#my legacy is too great : [ ABOUT ]

[fatedroses]

Zenos, but he uses his grandfather's name and imagery for his new armor so he can actually feel like a hero.

[funnyscienceman]

listen listen listen listen. i am never going to get over singed & viktor. CAN YOU IMAGINE THE MENTAL ANGUISH. THE MESS OF EMOTIONS VIKTOR HAS TO DEAL WITH. he's so steadfast with his morals and ideals. hextech must not be weaponized. dangerous science is fine as long as the only person at risk of getting hurt is me. the moment it kills someone else he's fucking BROKEN by it and just throws in the gd towel. YET SINGED WAS THE ONE WHO TAUGHT HIM. like just. imagine, ok. imagine— take the premise that singed & viktor were actually pretty close. viktor was lonely as a kid, but he found company in rio. in singed. singed provides a space and opportunity for viktor to do his science stuff. "we can be loners together." here's someone he probably has a decent amount of affection and respect for, maybe even admires like a kid would a mentor/role model/parental figure. and he hurts rio. and viktor doesn't understand, he can't reconcile this. "we can be loners together," but also, "you did this?" viktor's got like a whole slew of emotions to deal with. What the fuck? How could you? I hate you. But also, "I told you, I was consulting a friend about our quandary."

"You built this? Why aren't you playing with the others?"

"We can be loners together."

Like just what are you supposed to do when someone who provided for you — who took care of you, who looked after you as a kid — hurts someone? Someone that you care about? What the FUCK are you supposed to when that person is willing to torture and kill for science — something that you are also passionate about, the very thing you both found commonality in, bonded over — and does it all without even a hint of remorse? What are you supposed to think?

Are you allowed to find comfort and safety in that person anymore? Can you still have good memories about them, and look back at them fondly? Can you be thankful for all the good that person's done for you?

What does it say about you, if they're the one who influenced you so much so early in your life, and here they are now?

Viktor gets Sky killed, and can you imagine what must've been running through his head? I'm no better than him. I'm turning out just like him. I am just like him. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

AND IT'S JUST.

AAGGHH!!!

[toupee-or-nottoupee]

i know there's probably been discussions around about what patronuses the peeps in Hogwarts Legacy may have but specifically for Ominis, consider the Owl instead of just the snake.

Like his happiest memory is probs his friends most likely but his memory of safety and the person he remembers fondly, why he is the way he is with willingness to go against the Dark Arts his family is steeped in and how he never broke as a child is probably because of his Aunt. Noctua.

Noctua is Owl.

The idea that despite the fact that even if she's gone, she's still there

owl representing so much to ominis. his aunt. the possibility of freedom (since common symbol is a flying bird). the arrival and company of his friends despite the distance (letters). CONSIDER.

[plumdale]

I’ve learned that I cannot play more than one save at once. I feel the need to give my all to every save I play with and I can’t do that with more than one 😭😭

[rebornofstars]

thinking about twilight calling time forefather. quiet moments around the campfire. conversations on the long road.

if you met a man that was a living assurance of your love and survival - if you met a man that was a living piece of your own history and home, a man who will make you what you are - wouldn't it be a little strange, a little soft? nobody has understood you more. nobody has understood you less

[bluektw]

Heey,

So, I just posted my Cobra Kai Rewrite, in case anyone wants to check it out.

Let The Games Begin

Let The Games Begin - Chapter 1 - BlueKtw - Cobra Kai (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Tory’s life had never been easy. She knew that. Then why did no one care? Why did everyone always leave her to deal with her problems by herself? Why did no one help her?

And now, winning the Sekai Taikai is more than processing her grief. It’s more than guaranteeing Brandon had a future with her as his guardian. It’s more than bringing Cobra Kai back to its glory.

It’s to show everyone in that Dojo that if they don’t care about her when she's at her worst... She doesn’t care about them either.

Hope you all like it <3

[kay9leo]

#MCtober2024 - Week 2

Based on @lamieboo's #MCtober2024 event (click on #MCtober for more info).

What are your MC / OC study habits?

Iñaki has a few methods of studying as you can see above. She usually doesn't like to review in groups (unless its with trusted friends) until she feels comfortable with the material on her own where she knows what she doesn't know and can bring it up to the review session. While on her own, she'll either will use flash cards, rewrite notes or teach Uturunku (her jaguar plushie) in her shared dorm room. Eventually Imelda joins in on her teaching session with Uturunku since the two girls are in the same class and share the same dorm. Once she gets more comfortable with Sebastian and Ominis as friends, you would often find Iñaki in Undercroft studying with the two boys especially when Midterm Season hits and the library is packed. She would usually be sitting on cargo crate box reviewing her flash cards or notes, waiting for the boys to show up. She also like doing reviews on charms, spells and dueling techniques with Sebastian by physically practicing them in the Undercroft.

Her other known study locations is her dorm room or the Slytherin Common Room with Sebastian when burning the midnight oil, the Room of Requirements (not often since it's out of her way) and the Great Hall with her friends who are in the other houses. She also likes white noise the noisy Great Hall provides. Iñaki vs History of Magic

Iñaki hates Professor Binns. She thinks he's the most boring-est person in the planet with how monologuist, plain and calming his voice is and hates how he can knock her to sleep. It is her goal to actually sit through class and stay up completely for once and take notes, but she can't. She always knocks out if she's trying to focus and ends up becoming Ominis' pillow once the two are friends.

At least Ominis is kind enough to share his notes with her as he takes them with a bespelled diction quill that he'll later transfigure the notes into braille. Eventually Iñaki gets her own diction quill like everyone else in class does.

After a couple of classes with Prof. Binns, Iñaki will eventually accept that she's either going to nap in this class period or try to get ahead and do homework from her other classes with her enhanced earbud on to listen to music while her diction quill does the work of taking notes down.

Iñaki's Girl Crew

Iñaki becomes especially close to Natty, Poppy and Imelda for different reasons:

Natty is the first friend Iñaki made while at Hogwarts. She and Natty bond over living in a foreign country far from their homelands and learning to live in a different world. Natty's friendship is important to Iñaki because she is one of the few people who really gets what Iñaki is going through and the same is true vice versa. It isn't surprising to see one going to the other to have a good cry over missing their homeland. Natty also was the one who helped her finish her animagus training in secret and saw her transform into a jaguar for the first time. At one point, the two would go running in the Forbidden Forest in their animagus form, baffling any locals as to where a gazelle and a giant cat came from. Natty is also the first person Iñaki says is her friend.

Poppy's friendship with Iñaki began after defending the kneazle in class. After they partnered up in Beasts class that same day, the rest became history. Poppy enjoys Iñaki's frank and playful nature and Iñaki's enjoyed Poppy's bluntness and kindness (it reminds her of home). The two girls end up bonding over being oddballs, caring for beasts and going over the different magical beasts and their tales around the world. Poppy especially loves it when Iñaki tells her stories about the magical beasts native to the Americas that you wouldn't be able to find in Europe and ends up making it a goal to see the thunderbird that lives near Niagara Falls one day.

Imelda Reyes at first is Iñaki's roommate. For about five minutes until Iñaki grumbles in Spanish "¡Ay!¡Por el amor de Dios! after stubbing her toe against her misplaced suitcase as she was moving in a week later after arriving at Hogwarts. Imelda was surprised to learn that the American spoke Spanish. Iñaki didn't realize Imelda was Spanish (Imelda holds duel Scottish-Spanish citizenship) and spoke Spanish as well. They became friends like a house on fire due to their Hispanic heritage (Iñaki's family is originally from Latin America who immigrated to the US. Imelda's father was the one who moved their family to the UK when he went play on Puddlemere United to be close with them). They only speak Spanish to each other as it makes them feel at home as they both miss speaking it while at Hogwarts (There's very few Spanish speakers there). The two spend a lot of time talking about their Hispanic Heritage while comparing and contrasting the differences in the cultures (Iñaki' is bicultural as her Latino roots hails from two different countries) and the Spanish language as well.

When Imelda found out that Iñaki has family in South America (but didn't realize Iñaki was a first generation/muggleborn witch) she immediately assumed Iñaki was good at quidditch due to the sport culture in that continent (quidditch is essentially the magical equivalent to soccer/fútbol) and tricked her into trying out for the team in having Iñaki play in pick-up quidditch games since it didn't seem like she wasn't going to try out because she seemed nervous about it (in Imelda's eyes). The moment Iñaki realized what Imelda was doing, she calls Imelda out and the two end up having a frank discussion as to why Iñaki didn't play quidditch (American racism is the reason why - Iñaki didn't want to play into the stereotypes and found she couldn't really enjoy playing the sport back in New York) despite being good at it (Iñaki played with her first-generation/muggleborn mage cousins on both sides of the famiy as a kid and picked up the sport pretty fast). In the end Imelda helps Iñaki get over her prior reservations on playing the sport but not enough for Iñaki to play as a starter. Iñaki ends up playing as the reserve chaser though and ends up as a starter in sixth year during her last year at Hogwarts.

The four girls accidently become a friend group through a class project. Iñaki had them all meet at the Three Broomsticks to discuss what they would be doing and it spiraled to the four girls realizing they were outsiders in different ways as they talked about their lives and bonded over feeling like a fish out of water at times with their peers. They ended up making outing to the Three Broomsticks for lunch to be a weekly thing after their class project was done as all four became close friends with each other.

...

More on Iñaki "MC" Martinez Cariaga

[anghraine]

I love the Númenóreans for a lot of reasons (peak problematic faves!), but a big one is how much they love the Edain.

[spork-supremacy]

I think my most disjointed media experience has to be Harry Potter.

I feel so all over the place thinking about it.

Like, I’ve had the books for a while. Got to the diagon alley bit in the first before giving up and getting bored. Also somehow ruined those pages with hot chocolate. I skipped the second one. Fully finished the third, got over halfway on the fourth. Skipped the fifth. And got a couple pages into the sixth one before calling it quits.

I did binge all the movies, could not tell you a thing about them other than particular scenes. I really didn’t like the lighting in most of them. Very dark. Browsed free to air tv last night saw order of the Phoenix and it proved my point.

I felt no attachment to most characters no matter how hard I tried. Except, like Minerva or the twins.

yet I owned a copy of the curse child and binge read it. (Really need to reread it just to pay closer attention to scorpius).

I own both a history of magic, and fantastic beasts (the encyclopaedia book)

played Hogwarts mystery, that little Mobile game, and liked it. (For like, characters and plot, game play itself is tedious)

then I got a copy of Hogwarts legacy and played the shit out of it.

What I’m getting at here is I did not care for most of the main story or the characters, but I liked literally everything else around it.

A case of world building better than actually story to me. Granted this was just my experience, I’m happy for those who can connect with the main canon, more fics to yee I say.

quite literally though, in HL there’s a small mini game where this raven claw girl quizzes you the lore and I got it all correct, despite not actually caring about those books, just the stuff in the world around them.

[eyepatchdate]

ok. i read tom king's mister miracle run and tbh? i don't think i vibed with it. but it DOES read interestingly as a proto-strange adventures though.

[fayriequeene]

Okay but is Ominis Gaunt a stalker? 😂

Whenever I turn a corner, look behind me etc he’s just… always there. Mostly at night as well which makes it really creepy 😫

I assume it’s a glitch and he somehow always spawns behind me ??? but this was making me laugh the whole game 😭

[krytus]

a week ago i was ready to give up on kings blood and today i just finished outlining each new chapter of the restructuring/rewrite im doing 😌.....

[thekidsare-not-alright]

I think some mcr fans would rather die than acknowledge that the break up helped cement their legacy and popularity. everyone loves a martyr/what they can't get more of, yknow. it's a fact of life

[imminent-danger-came]

"I can't handle the fanon depictions of anyone", this is so true it hurts 😭

I‘ve never been so hyperfixated on a piece of media, without being able to read anything about it. The way every character get‘s flattened like a pancake and forced into a archetype is unreal.

I have like- 5 stories I can read and don‘t really engage with with the fandom in any way.

It‘s all just:

Monkey King is depressed and MK has to mother him and kiss all his boo boo‘s.

Macaque never did anything wrong in his life, it‘s all Wukong‘s fault. He is also secretly a mom.

What is Mei? Do you mean the month? Bitch can‘t even spell right.

Red Son‘s parents are still assholes, because parents changing for the better is impossible and children can‘t have decent parental figures I guess.

-Casually bastardizes everyone into an asshole so my fav has a reason to be sad-

"What is Mei? Do you mean the month? Bitch can‘t even spell right." IS THE FUNNIEST THING. HOLY SHIT. I'M CACKLING.

"I‘ve never been so hyperfixated on a piece of media, without being able to read anything about it" is also so relatable. I've never had my fandom experience be so self-generated before. I'm just kinda stewing over here, having fun, making my own gif sets and analysis posts. Maybe I reblog some fanart from time to time.

[outeremissary]

!! (a surprise for you :))

A surprise indeed, haha. As usual, this was how I discovered I had posted something. This was uhh. Not my most prepared night for it.

Hmm... I guess this will just be random rambling, and I don't have any nice, new art for this, so it's going to all be old art that's mostly not colored (lot of it is years old and I hadn't uhhh figured out the color thing). Anyway, Caina Lilindel, the ghost who haunts this blog and I am geased to have as my pfp forever.

First the meta notes: Caina was a grugach (mechanically wood elf- the UA for grugach hadn't been released yet) rogue inquisitive I played in a Curse of Strahd game that ran from 2017 to 2020. He was loosely based on a side character from an abandoned project I worked on periodically during my first year of university (which was then loosely inspired by something in VtM, but that's not important), and I made him as a quick, edgy character who I wouldn't mind dying because the DM was very adamant that the first area was a meat grinder and we might TPK. He survived though, and I was left to play my joke concept straight. And then I got really into that. Really, really into that.

Caina was a secretive exile who had been wandering the world alone for almost three decades at the start of the game. He was sharp-tongued and abrasive, never willing to help anyone for free. He hated risk but easily plunged into recklessness at the behest of emotions he made only the barest efforts to keep in check. He was always pushing away those who might befriend him, and every time someone responded to his vulnerability with kindness he recoiled as if they could burn him- or as if he would burn them. He hated being touched but yearned for intimacy. He killed without a second thought but argued passionately against dealing out further death. He was an absolutely wretched liar on the occasion he tried, and in moments of peace he was an excellent cook and unfailingly kind to children. His primary hobbies were card games and reading unimaginably trashy novels- he was the only member of the party who recognized van Richten, and that was because he was a longtime fan of a horribly prolific series of pulp thrillers based on van Richten's adventures. He had a way of following those he respected or cared about as if starstruck- he never knew what to do with his feelings. And despite his own tendency to break his word or bail on things he could never recover from anything he felt was betrayal. I always loved the combination of vulnerability and prickliness.

(backstory summary that got ahead of me ahead. and this. isn't even everything.)

Caina was born in a small semi-nomadic community in a hilly land and lived his early life without ever straying from his home. Life moved slowly and quietly there, the circular turning of seasons the only visible mark of the gentle passage of time in a community of near immortals. He was one of very few children and the spacing between the youths of the community was easily such that a child could be the only in their age group all their young life until reaching the more even ground of adulthood. But Caina was fortunate. There was another child his age in his home: a boy born the very same year as him, timing so close that the two were often called twins. That boy was Avél, Caina's best friend, constant companion, and the first person to lose his life at Caina's hands.

Caina was a quiet, diligent child who always went along with everything his more outgoing friend wanted to do. From a young age they shared the same dreams of adventure and tale-worthy glory far from home- although Caina would never be able to say if heroic legends had always set his heart racing or if this dream too was simply following Avél. He was known as a sweet child, one constantly fretted over and sheltered by his mother, who feared for a son who had been born sickly, and his grandmother (the family matriarch), who was intent on raising an eldest son who would be useful to his family. He would have duties when he aged, his grandmother knew: to his parents, to his grandparents, to his cousins, and if the Most Revered was good, to a sister who could pass down the name of the family to another generation. It wasn't for eldest sons or only sons to stuff their heads full of fairy tales and stray.

In contrast to quiet Caina, Avél was a troublemaker and a free spirit. He was never one to be confined by a rule if he could challenge it, and as a second son with no sister who would one day rely on him to keep the house for her, Avél's life had a certain openness to it. His tricks and disappearances were met with gentle scolding but never with restriction. He could imagine any future ahead of him, could dream of danger and distant lands, of anything in the world he desired. Anything he wished for might be his. And what he wished for was to be taken under the wing of the gruff old huntress Siyir. Siyir had been further afield than any of the others who wore the title of ranger. She had gone well beyond simply charting the movements of the community or passing messages between the pockets of the grugach people or brokering trade deals. Siyir had slain a griffin. She had descended into human lands, had seen mountains that spat fire and waters that spanned the horizon. She was Avél's vision: a legend who had stepped through campfire flames to stand in the mundane material world. And of course, this meant that Caina worshiped her too.

So the stage of life was set. Two boys, near opposites in every way, but each the other's closest confidante and the mirror of his own experiences- or perhaps less a mirror than a shadow and the bright thing that cast it. Avél pulled Caina out of his shell and into new experiences. He supplied dreams enough for two and invented adventures to match. There was an awe that Avél inspired in Caina. He wanted to nurture passion that could match his friend's to more truly inhabit their shared dreams. He wanted skills to match Avél's natural athleticism and way with words. It gave him a hunger to keep up, to learn, to know, to show that he too was equal. But nothing he did ever seemed to bring the two of them even. His boldness crumpled under caution, his hesitance and appeals to the wisdom of elders earning him affectionate teasing as a stick in the mud. He could never run as fast or far as Avél or climb as high or win tussles between them without tricks that brought out whines of "no fair! do it right!" The skills Caina learned alone bored Avél. Cooking was dull and far beneath a legend, Avél insisted. Wayfinding was useful but too much work- Caina was the smart one, so he could take care of it, couldn't he? And the runes of a seldom used writing system (taught to Caina by the community's shaman) were entertaining only for an afternoon or two- he laughed when Caina asked later if he'd been practicing them, and Caina's ears burned with shame for finding them so fascinating in the first place.

With age came a sharper sense of the distance between them. Avél was the golden child of the community, Caina his keeper. When Avél broke his arm falling out of a tree on a forbidden excursion it was worth a day's scolding that quickly melted into doting and repetition of the grand tale of his adventure for months, while Caina was reprimanded for allowing Avél to hurt himself and then quickly forgotten as more than a timid accessory to Avél. Siyir took interest in Avél, but Caina quickly realized had little in him: she hardly acknowledged Caina when she spoke to the two of them together, and she had a way of only offering things when Caina wasn't around. And Avél, for his part, hardly seemed to protest surprise hunting trips at dawn or archery advice when Caina was unavailable. He always shared what he learned afterwards, but no matter how many times Caina asked for Avél to bring him along the next time there was always an excuse when that next time came around. Suspicion set in that his friend was hoarding time with the huntress to himself. And when the changes of puberty began Avél grew taller and filled out better. His features emerged from teen acne as defined and handsome, new edges to his face only making the soft twinkle in his eyes seem brighter and the creases of his smile kinder. Caina stayed spindly and awkward. It was painfully clear that strength would never come to him naturally, and without it a slight edge of grace didn't feel like much. He began to distance himself from Avél to have time to hone skills his friend had and he felt he lacked. But it was never enough to do more than keep up. Just to keep up, and hope desperately that Avél's aimless talent would one day lose to training.

And then Caina's mother gave birth to a daughter, and Caina was too old to miss the meaning of the event. The first brother's duty was to his sister- to be a part of her household more constant than a partner, for those were fluid and often changed over the long turning of the decades, and more vigorous than a mother, who would one day be claimed by the years. To share in her generation and her legacy. Caina would go from a childhood sidekick to Avél to a supporting character in the tale of Cailo. There would be no breath for his own story, his own adventures. Like that he added Avél's freedom to the endless list of envies.

Yet Avél, in his careless optimistic way, never acknowledged the change. They still had the same dreams, the same loves, the same life. Even as Avél spent more time with Siyir as Caina helped care for his baby sister Avél danced around it. Any time the future was questioned Avél suddenly had a new story that needed telling immediately or somewhere to go or something that needed doing. And sometimes he simply laughed and pushed it away.

In the midst of this stormy sea of adolescence, Siyir decided to take an apprentice.

The decision wasn't an announcement, but a challenge. The ranger let it be known to all of the youths that she would take on whichever best passed a series of tests she set. Worth, she said, was the only way to decide who was fit to carry a legacy like hers. And that worth superseded all else: she would take her chosen apprentice and no other, and it was known without ever being said that likewise nothing could take her chosen from her.

Worth.

Worth.

Caina knew all her skills secondhand, but had practiced them to the best perfection he could imagine. He knew the one who would ultimately be the only true competitor inside and out. Siyir had never seen him, but he could make her. He would show her that he was worthy.

He matched Avél in every test. He could shoot, he could hunt, he could track, he could pitch a camp of his own. He was still Avél's superior when it came to navigation, even if his friend had improved. The few other challengers quickly proved half-hearted and dropped out. It was only Caina and Avél, just like it had always been.

The night before Siyir's last test, Caina returned home late. He had gone out to gather herbs for the shaman, Galen, and been sidetracked by the urge to practice one last thing. When he passed by Siyir's dwelling, he caught the sound of a familiar voice that gave him pause: his grandmother was in Siyir's home.

He crept closer, and the conversation became clearer. His grandmother was asking what she was meant to do if Caina won the contest. Who would be there for Cailo? Was their family simply to dwindle, plagued by foolish wanderlust and misfortune? Caina could hear in his mind Siyir's counterargument: that many daughters grew up alone, that Cailo didn't want for cousins who could help her, that their father was still with them and far from old. That one son was an acceptable concession for a woman who had once shot a griffin from the sky. That maybe Cailo didn't want her legacy either.

But Siyir said none of those things.

"Avél is my apprentice." It wasn't her usual brusque tone. It was a reassurance, a gentle correction. "I just couldn't let it get to the boy's fool head by letting him have that without a little fight."

Every semblance of hope evaporated. He hardly remembered the rest of the night- only the listless dreams that tore at him whenever he tried to rest. He was trapped in a haze.

He was still in that haze when he rose before dawn and found Avél.

They walked out and away from the early spring camp, Avél chattering all the way and glancing over here and there at Caina with something that sometimes looked like relief and other times looked like guilt. Caina was quiet for the most part. He smiled and nodded and urged Avél on. Once or twice he laughed. It was so easy to slip into familiar patterns while following familiar paths. By the time they reached the cliff over the falls, the light made it clear that despite the lingering morning mist dawn was well behind them.

Many years before, a lone long-branched pine growing at the edge of the falls had fallen. The reason was unknown- no one had been around to see it go- but now it lingered in death as persistently as it had in life, laying its lattice of branches out across the open air to form a precarious bridge from one side of the gorge to the other. Mist from the falls left it permanently slick, and between the spring rains and the snowmelt still trickling down the surging falls had crept in precariously close.

When they were younger, they had often talked about crossing it. Avél had take a few steps out, falls plunging down on one side and open air on the other, and Caina managed a half step before begging Avél to come back. "Next time I'll do it," Avél always laughed.

"What do you say- for old time's sake?"

To hear the proposal come from Caina stopped Avél dead. His laughter wasn't the familiar bell of joy. It cracked at the edges- nerves, perhaps, or surprise.

"As if I could say no."

And Avél stepped forward, hesitating a moment at the edge. His eyes flicked to Caina and his mouth hardened into a thin smile. He took his first step onto the trunk. A few steps later, Caina followed.

Looking back, Caina was never sure what he had wanted from that morning. It was like a dream, the roaring falls eating the sound of the world around them and the mists swallowing everything outside that tiny expanse and the figure of his friend.

Somewhere near the center, Avél stopped. He turned and shouted something. Caina read the words on his lips: Let's go back.

Avél was moving his feet, trying to reposition to walk back, when the dreadful inevitable happened. In the blink of an eye he had gone from upright to clinging to one of the branches jutting out from the edge of the trunk below. There was no thought when Caina rushed forward recklessly, bracing himself against one of the more solid branches as he grabbed a slick hand just in time as his beloved friend's support cracked and fell away, useless. Avel dangled at Caina's mercy, clinging with both hands onto Caina's arm as he struggled to find a foothold to pull himself up.

In this moment of nightmare, lucidity returned.

Caina would never be able to say why he brought his friend to the falls. He didn't know why he challenged him at their stupidest, most dangerous childhood game. He didn't know why he followed so close, never allowing Avél the space to turn around. All coincidence. All error. None of it conscious. None of it him.

But he could never forget the moment he chose to let go.

If Avél screamed, Caina never heard. The falls swallowed the sound greedily. In the constant roar of white noise, it seemed like Avél was as silent as a shadow, and when he disappeared into the mist below he became every bit as transient.

There were searches, of course. There was weeping. And finally there was blame. Caina hadn't planned the crime, and only began to hide it too late. Put before the gods in all of Galen's power, he cracked. He had believed like a fool that he had hated Avél. Now as its target he understood what true hate was. Yet for all that, there wasn't heart in a community that couldn't remember ever having an execution to kill another so soon after their loss. No one could remember the curse ever being used either, but Galen knew it all the same.

It was with nothing but the clothes on his back and a new fear of death that Caina left the home he had been cast out of. The brand of defilement burned on his hand, the angry red scar weeks from true healing. Cast out from his home, from all kin, from the sight of the gods themselves, who had sealed his exile with the cursed brand. The legend he had made for himself was one of misery. And beyond its edge, only wandering without rest- always running from the guilt carved into skin and soul.

[gimmick-blog-bracket]

Now for the final round!

@hellsitegenetics

I love them

I didn't know I needed to know that the weed-smoking girlfriends post was genetically a wolf, but I did, and I do. Also puts great stuff on my dash.

it’s so fun to be scrolling unhinged posts and then boom. an organism!

so many moths‼ also, unexpected comedy with some of the matches

perfect blend of silly and informative, and makes for an excellent punchline at the end of a long post. puts creatures on my dash. literally what more could you ask for

It's a really unique blog concept and a lot of times the results are pretty funny. It's great when the sequence matches the post content too!

Creatures 👍

Finds beautiful creatures out of the mess of the hellsite

Offers finality AND gives us a creechur.

I love them. English speakers talk like moths

If this blog wins, they could run the text of the winning announcement, and determine the post's genus and species!

They're also very good about tagging the type of creature depicted in the results, so as long as you mute tags of creatures you don't want to see, it's a very fun time seeing iconic legacy posts (and new submissions) being reduced down to a string of letters and assigned a random species of fish or moth or something!

uhh it’s cool

BLAST

There are so many weird bugs in the world

Yippee!!

If, as Haldane said, God has an inordinate fondness for beetles, then surely this blog proves that Tumblr has an inordinate fondness for moths.

Top tier blog as a geneticist, I love seeing obscure organisms and MOTH

Admin got rate limited after trying to blast the bee movie

the knowledge of biology to pull this off (i have taken one biology class in my life) and also the work to find all the strings honestly deserves quite a bit of praise

This gimmick blog has it all: science, pictures of animals, interaction with the text of other peoples' posts, interesting information, and a unique and fun premise. As a biologist, I'm rooting for hellsitegenetics to reach the end and take the tournament, because it is truly a standout among gimmick blogs.

If they win, perhaps this blog too shall become a cool organism :3

@hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

What's more happy holiday cheer than cheering on the destruction of a giant straw goat?

The birds may have won 2023, but I believe in humanity's capability for arson for 2024 <3

a vote for me is a vote for arson! This message was approved by hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

gavle is SUCH a public service and holiday feature

what's more tumblr than comical destruction and holidays?

sometimes you just gotta vote with your matchsticks

Bringing a cultural staple to tumblr since 2021

Arson is so much more fun

It would be really funny and ironic if it survives the tournament

you have no idea how much joy watching the chronicling of the gavlebocken brings me every year

hasgavlebockenburneddownyet provides an essential public service

always love seeing a bit of Swedish history on my dash 'Swedish bamboo season'

the goat account is peak gimmick blog

If I don't get to beat the goat then nobody does. -pointless-achievements

Never ask Tumblr to choose between lies and arson! The winner threatens by nature to rip apart the very fabric of our DNA!

goat statues made out of straw are exciting and interesting

I wanna see things burn

the goat is an essential part of tumblr culture and the goat blog is a sacred keeper of the tumblr high holidays

watching to see if the big straw goat has burned down each year is a true delight, something I never knew existed until tumblr and the blog dedicated to it

the incredibly focused nature of @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is what makes their gimmick superior.

Please guys bite gavlebocken

Look, I'm Danish. I was put on this earth to annoy the Swedes and vice versa, but even I voted for @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

gavlebocken is also such a fun name and this blog informed be about its existence, so for that I am grateful

hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is providing a vital service! Every year, people rely on their updates regarding the fate of our most beloved Yule Goat! How could they NOT deserve the win!?

sacred anti-corporate arson

a vote for gävlebocken is a vote for anarchy!

pls vote for them they're the funniest gimmick keeping track on the funniest phenomena in recent human history, like when i look at their acc i think to myself this is what tumblr was created for

the goat is the GOAT

HASGAVLEBOCKENBURNEDDOWNYET DESERVES TO WIN, I have them on post alert for a REASON

the holiday season wouldn't be the same without them

they do important reporting. Do you look at the news and be like 'the reporters aren't doing work they're just telling you whats happening.' Have some respect for the goat news

let the weird burnt sacrificial ritual of it all appeal to you

nothing makes my December more interesting, arson should win

doesn't barge in on other peoples posts which is always a good thing in my books. not a fan when obnoxious gimmick blogs turn a decent post into a garbled mess