#nothing works!!!!! it does not care. and no it cannot be taken to a shelter. they just dump them back where they were collected

[songofsaraneth]

i am FUCKING pissed about the feral cat situation yet again

[thebadchoicemachine]

Jonah raised Jon AU

Can't get this AU out of my head where Jon was adopted and raised by James Write and then later taken under the care of Elias Bouchard, as per his father’s will.

1.) He's raised to be the perfect eye avatar and Knows plenty pretty quickly—even the stuff “Elais” never told him. He's helping Elias search for the perfect avatars to be part of their ritual (if only because it’s what been ingrained in his head since he was 8. It’s no different than studying for college to him. It’s simply something he, as an Avatar, does.)

2.) One day, when he’s just turned 18, he runs into a few people hanging out at a cafe. Or, more accurately, a person ran into him. With a bike.

3.) (Martin didn’t mean to hurt Jon. He saw a hot regal-looking guy outside a cafe and started daydreaming about a meet cute and then… oops. He’s not sure how it even happened, it was like something yanked the handlebars of his bike)

4.) While Jon and Martin are laying on the ground—Martin apologizing like his bloody life depends on it and Jon cussing him out, wondering why he didn't See this this coming—two baristas come out to help.

5.) Tim and Sasha burst out the front door, clambering to get a break from work help with the commotion outside the shop.

6.) After more outrage from a (much more entitled) Jon, Tim ends up calming everyone down with his charm and some pastries. They end up talking after Jon gathers his composure and demure. He finds the three intriguing and resolves to be friendly with them, even if only as an act to dig into their minds.

He ends up having a surprisingly good time, though.

7.) Also, Tim hits on everyone a bunch because you cannot escape polyarchives even here, though he's mostly joking.

8.) That evening Jon returns home with some news for his father. He explains the three people he met and how he was drawn to them… as possible avatars to be used.

Martin was the strongest, tormented by the Lonely and with a fierce potential for the Web. Jon could tell that, as sincere as he was trying to be, Martin was manipulating the converversation to paint himself as far more pathetic than he was. He wanted Jon to pity him. For what purpose? Seemingly nothing more sinister than wanting a connection of some kind. He was good at it too; if Jon didn't Know it, he'd never have guessed.

Tim had a deep-seated hatred of the stranger, though he didn't know what it was, making the connection rather vague. He hid it well, but there was a hunger in him for revenge and a willingness for violence. It wasn't purposeless or self-indulgent like the Desolation would feed from, but there was a seed to work with.

Sasha was the least interesting Avatar-wise. She was hard to read, which could be a sign of the Dark or Stranger, but she also had a drive about her that could feed the Hunt quite nicely if driven to extreams.

9.) Elias nods, thanks him for his reconnaissance, and lets him go to bed.

10.) Jon tries to sleep but lays awake that night, thinking about his first genuine interaction with people since he was eight. He was extremely sheltered living with his father, both bodies, and his interactions were limited to small talk and supernatural beings. Despite doing it for his father’s mission, he found that talking with them to be oddly freeing and even a little fun. “Elias Bouchard” was technically his gaurdien, not his father, and he was 18 now. He could argue for more freedom. Barring that, he was getting strong enough that Elias couldn't read him anymore, and he could tell when he was. Maybe, after a decade of being under All Knowing observation 24/7, he could allow himself another attempt at rebellion.

More of this AU under #Jonah raised Jon AU

[haveyoureadthistransbook]

TransRightsReadathon Sales & Freebies!

I will be collecting books that are reduced or made available for free by authors for the TransRightsReadathon here. Feel free to share any that you know of that I might have missed:

Queeird: A Collection of Unusual Trans Masculine Erotica edited by Max Turner | ebook 2,80 £, paperback 6,30 £

Androids and aliens, werewolves and vampires, furries and… tentacles? This is a collection of unusual, and at times monstrous, erotica featuring trans masculine characters. From the ridiculous to the romantic, expect kinks, quirks and tropes. All the stories feature trans masculine main characters, with a variety of cis, trans female, trans male and non-binary lovers.

Deck the Holes by WrenVLothaire | ebook 0.50$

It’s Yule, a celebration Aloysius is well versed in but never has the time of year been his favorite. But with Malachai, a partner with whom he’s come to love and cherish, this holiday may not be as somber as it’s always been. This time he has a surprise in store. Let’s just hope the owner of the home approves of the decorations. t4t, trans man MC

Tales of Genesis I-III by H.S. Wolfe | ebook free, (the book one that these short stories are based on costs 1.99$)

Out of the Rain by TinyLesbianRobot | ebook 0.50$

Echo interrupts a lazy morning with a strange request of Ender. The first in a series of shorts set in the Genesis universe and can be read as a stand alone without having read In The Garden Of Echo t4t, trans man MC & trans woman MC

The weather has taken a turn, forcing Flax and Lost to rush for shelter.  But now that they've found a place to dry off, Lost's drenched clothes are clinging to her, and Flax is finding it difficult to keep from staring... This story is a non-canon short set in the world of my novel 'Messenger': just under ten thousand words of warm, fluffy, robot-on-angel-on-human smut, a cozy and affectionate scene between women who love each other a whole lot. transfemme MC

Rien Gray's Trans Rights Readathon Sale | ebooks 60% off, $6.00 for 2 books

Follow a fellowship of sapphic knights as they’re seduced by witches, queens, goddesses—and each other—in a dark, lush fantasy inspired by Arthurian legend. genderfluid butch MC, agender MC

Valerin the Fair by Rien Gray | ebook free (+ other free sapphic books)

genderfluid butch MC

Our Monsters by Jemma Topaz | ebook 69% off, $1,23

Rosemary Dulahan, answering a strange job posting, arrives in Monstertown – a place inhabited by magical beings from another world. Navigating the politics of sphinxes, lamias, and secrets, she must learn how to get along with her non-human coworkers and maybe romance a few monster girls along the way. There's nothing she wants less than getting caught up in a murder mystery troubling all of Monstertown… but the mystery doesn't care what she wants, and she's about to discover the darker side of her new world. trans woman MC

A.A. Fairviews TransRightsReadathon Bundle | ebook free

In celebration of the second TransRightsReathon you can grab A Doctor's Touch and Peaceful in the Dark for free.  Following a trans masc vampire and queer werewolf- these stories are as sweet as they are sensual.  transmasc MC

Bury your Gays & Bound in Flesh | ebook free

Anthology of tragic queer horror & anthology of trans body horror by ghoulish books

The Fealty of Monsters by Ladz | ebook free

Winter 1917. After years on the run from a dangerous cult, twenty-three-year-old Sasza and his father have established themselves among the Odonic Empire’s ruling class. But there’s a problem: Sasza is a vampire, and vampires aren’t supposed to get involved in human governance. What the aristocracy doesn’t know, after all, cannot hurt them. Unfortunately, Sasza is far more involved than a stealth vampire should be. Not only does he work to quell the rumors of the vampires’ responsibility for an unsolved massacre, his lover is also the pro-proletariat Ilya, the Empire’s Finance Minister, who tries to recruit Sasza into the same cult hunting him. Then—the Emperor declares war against the Vampire States. Diplomacy has failed. Sasza quickly learns that he will do anything to preserve peace–including giving in to the monstrosity he spent so many years concealing from even himself. nonbinary MC

Trans Readathon by Wicked Witch Writes | ebook 50% off, $5

Your Body is Not Your Body anthology | ebook $1,99

A centaur seeks illicit surgery in an alien bodily modification club. Two medieval monks react to their transformation and demonic pregnancy in very different ways. A resourceful trans teen destroys sports bigots through the power of pluckiness...and abundant body horror. A stellar cathedral crosses galaxies to dump the corpse of God into a star before the mission devolves into a panoply of psychedelic orgies. A doxxed teen falls victim to violent assault and dishes out some harrowing retribution of their own. Over thirty Trans and Gender Nonconforming creators unite to voice their rage, and the rules of conventional Horror go out the f$%&ing window in this collection featuring murderous pleasure-bots; proselytizing zombies; acid-filled alien cops; science run amok; sorcerers, ghouls, cannibals...and that barely scratches the grave-dirt.

Blood from Stone by Bellamy Scott | ebook PWYW

Hitting a deer while driving a country road is unfortunate, but common enough that no one expects it to re-order the fabric of reality as they know it. For Sam, a rogue stag on a summer night takes his husband, his life, and his name in a single blow. As months of grief pass, he things he's begun to get used to his new reality, until an encounter with a childhood friend changes it all over again. BLOOD FROM STONE is a story of an old lady doing good deeds for bloody boys on the side of the road, of poisoned wine, and of a trans man Becoming Real.

Becoming Light by Riley Nash | ebook free

When people meet me, they see a bright faced, happy-go-lucky kindergarten teacher who will do anything to support his friends. Not everyone knows the struggle I’ve faced to become the man I am today.  Now it’s finally time for the gender-affirming surgery I’ve been dreaming of for years. But when an emergency leaves me without a caretaker, the only person who can take me in is my best friend’s aloof, reclusive, and incredibly sexy dad. The one who has no bedside manner and struggles to communicate. The one I’ve had a crush on for years. The deeper we see into each other’s worlds, the stronger the attraction gets. I’m not sure either of us can make it through the next four days without giving in. Trans man MC

​TransRightsReadathon Sale by Matthew Zakharuk | ebook 50% off, $2.50

a story of trans transhumanism + a dystopian gothic

[thesilversun]

Wip Wednesday time, a bit from Before the Dawn again.

Fang Duobing and Qin Po talk about helping Ali Lianhua.

—

“What about Di Mengzhu?” Qin Po asks. “What are his intentions?”

There is a lot that Fang Duobing doesn’t know for certain, but there is one thing that he’s sure of. “He wants him to live. He wants to save him. He been searching for the Styx flower because he want to give it to him.”

“All that hope pinned on a flower.”

“You don’t think it will work?” If she says no, Fang Duobing isn’t entirely certain he isn’t going to burst into tears. It’s the one thing that they’ve been holding onto, one last desperate little scrap of hope.

“He’s been ill for a long time,” she looks at him, sad. “He should have come to me in those early days. I wouldn’t have been able to cure him, but he would have suffered far less. But then, I think he thought he deserved in it someway.”

“He doesn’t! He-”

“Shh, let him sleep. I didn’t say he did. I said he thinks he did.” she sighs. “He still does. He feel so guilty about everything, even living.

“Do you think the Styx flower will work?” Fang Duobing asks, “If I can keep giving him energy, it will be enough to make it work, won’t it?”

“If he lets us help him through it I think there’s a good chance it will. He might never how he once was, you will all need to prepare for that. He’s suffered a lot and somethings can’t always be truly healed.”

“As long as he lives, that is enough.”

“For you. Will it be enough for him?”

“For A-Fei?” He knows how much he want a rematch of even terms. To have that taken away will be a bitter disappointment, but even more than that he knows he wants Li Lianhua to live.

“For Li Lianhua.”

As far as Fang Duobing can tell regaining everything he was doesn’t matter to Li Lianhua and is something that he’d probably rather avoid. “He doesn’t want to go back to being Li Xiangyi.”

“True, but he still likes being able to come to the rescue, to protect those he cares about. Even if it means giving more of himself than he should, pushing himself to point of injury or harm. You’ve seen him do it. You’ve been on the receiving end of it, I’m sure.”

Fang Duobing nods, and wishes he didn’t know such things.

“How would he manage if he lost being able to do that? If he lost all his inner energy, all his ability to use it to fight and to heal.” She looks levelly at Fang Duobing. “If he could never use Yangzhouman again. Would he be able to accept that?”

There’s no way of knowing, and he cannot make that decision for him. He said he wanted a simple life of cooking, fishing and laying in the sun. He looks at him sleeping, eyes still tear swollen, face too pale from spending so many years in poor health. He wants nothing more than to go over to him, to lay down beside and hold him tight, sheltering from any harm the world might direct at him.

“He’s scared,” Qin Po says, when Fang Duobing hasn’t replied. “He's going to need us all if he’s going to pull through this.”

[iridescentgleam]

as night eclipses day (know the sun won't ever rise again)

Hi, did someone ask for Leshycat angst? ...No? Ah, well, too bad, I guess. I'll just leave this here then. read it on Ao3 Word Count: 2,493 TW: Main character death and a brief mention of violence and maiming (although it is never depicted and no detail is gone into).(Note to avoid any confusion: My Yellow Cat's name is Rowan.)

The sky is bright and clear as Lambert casually makes their way to the temple for the morning sermon. They can hear their followers go about their morning routines all around, some just waking up and heading to breakfast while others are hard at work, having been awake for hours already as their job requires them to be. Nothing of note will be happening today, but their followers seem to be in good spirits anyway, conversing good-naturedly over berry bowls and stopping for small talk on their way to the refinery or the lumberyard. All things considered, today is shaping up to be a good day, they think.

Which is why the guttural scream coming from the direction of the shelters takes them so off-guard.

It’s a horrid, awful noise that Lambert can only compare to the feedback that was filtered straight into their brain whenever one of the bishops emerged in front of them back when the Old Faith was still around. It is not a typical mortal scream in any regard, but, somehow, it is familiar to the lamb in a way they cannot quite place. Even after the person has stopped screeching, the sound echoes deep into the woods surrounding their community and leaves the lamb’s ears ringing violently.

The flock is silent when the echoing finally stops. All chatter has ceased, and even the sounds of people working in the stone mines and lumberyards halt. Everyone, the lamb included, is stunned by the scream. For a moment, nobody is moving at all.

And then, in that same terrible voice, someone cries out, “LAMB!!!” and instantly, Lambert knows why they recognize that scream.

It’s Leshy.

All eyes turn to Lambert, the curious, confused, and concerned all wondering why someone, let alone Leshy, would be screaming for their leader on a day like today.

But Lambert knows why.

It is only after the second, “LAMB!” though, that they take off running. Because if Leshy is calling for him, that can only mean one thing has happened. -----------

It is natural for followers to grow old. This is the way of life and death, and by the time their followers become elders, the lamb makes sure they are well taken care of and ready to greet death with open arms, unafraid of what comes after.

Of course, for some, death is not the end, but rather another bridge to cross in the road of existence. Lambert is guilty of reviving followers who they believe truly earned their right to continue on past what is supposed to be the end, but only if they know that it is something they want. Many of their followers are perfectly content to embrace eternal rest, after all. It is because of this that they do not take resurrection lightly.

They know what can happen if a follower who does not want it gets resurrected.

Thus, it is customary to ask elders what they wish for themselves when their time comes to retire from work. Many have family members and friends they want to be reunited with in the afterlife, so it is not a hard choice for them. Some simply crave the pleasantness of eternal rest. Others still tell them that they would be honored to continue to serve the cult, granted they were chosen for revival.

After many, many years of asking this question, they start to be able to predict what a follower will wish before they ask them, even without reading their mind. Certain types of people are more inclined to choose one path over another, so it does not shock them when a strong, nurturing type chooses to be reunited with the family he lost due to heretics or a burly, hard-working type asks if she could serve the cult longer. Some change their minds as their end grows nearer, but, for most, this is a question they have entertained for a long while before Lambert ever asks it to them.

Very rarely do they receive an answer that truly surprises them. They ask the question more as a formality than anything and simply end up nodding along to the follower’s explanation for why they chose the answer they did, even though Lambert can easily deduce why themselves.

That’s why, when Rowan -the diligent head farmhand for more than twenty years- says that he wishes to pass on peacefully and leave it at that, Lambert is already nodding along with a pleasant smile on their face before they can even process what is being said. When they finally do, they find themselves rearing back as if struck physically by the shock of what they just heard.

“I’m sorry?” they can’t help but ask, glancing down at the yellow cat as if they were seeing him for the first time.

“I wish to pass on, Leader. When it’s my time, I do not wish to be resurrected,” he reiterates, his tone even and almost carefree,  although the lamb can still sense the faintest bit of apprehension in his voice.

“...You haven’t told Leshy yet, have you?” they find themselves responding in a considerably more somber tone. It isn't really a question, although it comes out of their mouth like one. They already know the answer because... “Otherwise, I would have heard about it by now.”

Rowan dips his head, his graying whiskers barely skirting his chest. It’s all the confirmation the lamb needs to see to know that Leshy, indeed, has not been informed of this.

“You do not know how to tell him,” Lambert deduces, their voice becoming soft, almost coaxing. “You know you will have to eventually.”

“I am aware, yes,” the cat whispers back in an almost pained tone of voice. “But I do not want my last days with him to be ones of sadness and anger.”

“So you will go on letting him think that this state of yours is simply temporary and that you will rise again shortly after you pass?” they ask, casting a side-long glance at where Leshy is currently on the other side the cult grounds, blissfully unaware of the conversation Lambert was currently having with his partner.

“If I must do so to maintain the peace, then that is what I shall do,” Rowan replies, a steely sort of determination entering his tone. Much to their chagrin, he seems willing to die on this hill. They get the sense there is nothing they can say to talk him out of it.

They have half a mind to stomp all the way over to Leshy right now and tell him exactly what Rowan is telling them, but something in the yellow cat’s expression stops them from doing so.

After a long drawn-out silence, he eventually states, “I’m sure Leshy will find another lover eventually. And I want that for him, I truly do! He’s terrible at letting people in, but, deep down, he’s sweet in his own way, and he’s been taking care of me for the past few months, as he has done for all the time we’ve spent together. He’s funny too, and he has a great sense of humor. Really, what’s not to love?” He laughs softly to himself with a fond smile, as if he’s thinking of something Leshy had said long ago.

Suddenly, the lamb’s heart aches as they get a full sense of what Leshy will be losing. Rowan truly loves Leshy, that much is plain to see, and anyone with eyes (or even without them) can see how enamored the ex-god is with him as well. Lambert desperately wants to shake the cat by the shoulders and snap some sense into him, but they can tell that this decision is not one he has taken lightly. There is very little anyone could do to talk him out of this.

So the lamb concedes. After all, it is simply not their call to make. -----------

As Lambert approaches the shelter area, they can hear the sounds of Leshy’s agony loud and clear. There is clearly another person there with him because they can hear him snapping at someone in between whispered sweet-nothings to a lover who can no longer hear them. Really, he's speaking in frantic, half-baked sentences more than anything. Sometimes, it’s just soft, barely there mutters of “...my camellia, my camellia…” over and over again before morphing into blind rage in the form of earth-shaking cries of “YOU! YOU!”

If it was hard to hear, though, it was even worse to see. The lamb hesitates for a moment as the scene comes into view, swallowing down a lump got stuck in their throat before continuing on.

Leshy is kneeling over Rowan’s body, both hands blindly fisted in the cat’s robes as he alternates from focusing his attention on said cat to the other cat that happens to be in the vicinity.

Narinder, for his part, looks stoically down at Leshy grieving his dead partner, seeming exceptionally detached from his brother’s grief. The bridge that had been burnt between the two a thousand years ago seems yet to be rebuilt.

When Narinder looks up and makes eye contact with Lambert, his only reaction is a casual, “Lamb, deal with this nonsense,” and a thrash of his tail. Once they approach the scene fully, the black cat hardly spares him another look before turning on his heel and abandoning his brother with little more than a second thought. Lambert knows, though, that he will not stray far, as is the nature of an older brother, however estranged.

Narinder’s words seem to have gotten through to Leshy, despite his immense grief, though, because the ex-god of chaos whirls his head around to face them so fast they worry he might have seriously strained his neck. If he did, though, he doesn’t say anything. He simply gently cradles the body of Rowan in his arms and hoists the cat up into a bridal carry like it is the most effortless thing in the world. If Lambert didn’t know better, they would simply think Leshy is carrying Rowan because he fell asleep again somewhere, as is typical for an elder of his age.

The lamb instinctually flinches back as his body is thrust at them like a broken toy by a child. “Fix him…” the ex-god hisses in an otherworldly voice. “I declare it. NOW!”

Any hope Lambert might have had that Rowan told Leshy about his decision promptly shrivels up and dies in their chest.

Well, they thought, it’s been a good run, at least. It was nice knowing you, Red Crown. Please give my regards to Narinder when you promptly return to him after my death.

When the lamb makes no move to immediately remedy the situation, Leshy takes a step forward and presents Rowan’s body to them even clearer, as if it were possible for them to somehow miss it the first time. “Well?” he hisses, his voice dipping in and out a vocal range that was achievable by mortals. “What are you waiting for?! I am not speaking in tongues, am I?!”

They send up a silent prayer to any other gods that may possibly be out there and listening to them at this very moment as they reply, “...I can’t.”

For a moment, Leshy falls silent, seemingly stunned, before the rage returns stronger than ever. “What do you mean ‘YOU CAN’T?!’’’ he hisses, sounding truly like a god again, despite his continued presence in his mortal form. “YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE THAT CAN!”

Woo boy, time for the moment of truth, they think, before just deciding to spit it all out in one go. “Rowanaskedmenottoresurrecthimimsorry,” they reply, half tempted to shut their eyes against the onslaught they know will be coming.

Leshy falls silent again, this time for a longer period of time. The silence rings loudly in their ears, almost as deafening as his screams, if not more so. It’s eerie, watching all the fight seep out of Leshy like a snuffed candle. “What… what do you mean?” he eventually asks, his voice no louder than a whisper. This time, he truly does look like a child, his expression open and vulnerable as he turns to face his late lover, despite not being able to see him.

The lamb takes a deep breath before answering. “He didn’t want to tell you because he didn’t want you to be mad, but he asked specifically not to be resurrected. He said he was ready to move on.”

Oddly, it seems like the whole world has gone still. No birds are chirping, no insects humming. It’s all disturbingly quiet. The kind that tells you something is wrong. Lambert should have seen the signs before they all came crashing down on them.

“No… NO! YOU ARE LYING, YOU FILTHY LAMB!!!” he howls, throwing himself forward at the lamb despite still cradling Rowan’s corpse in his arms. “HE WOULD NOT SAY THAT, HOW DARE YOU LIE TO ME!! I WILL HAVE YOUR HEAD FOR THIS!”

“I’m sorry, Leshy,” they tell him sincerely, and that seems to be all it takes to break him, truly.

If they thought the scream he let out the first time was guttural, this one is just brutal. It sounds like it scrapes Leshy’s very mortal vocal cords raw as he falls to his knees and lays his late lover’s body back on the ground. Sobs and screams fight for the ability to leave his throat as he throws himself over Rowan’s corpse and cradles it tight to his chest. Black ichor quickly soaks the bandages that cover his face, so much so that the liquid starts leaking and quickly stains yellow fur as black as ink. As black as death. All Lambert can do is stand here and watch as Leshy starts pleading with his lover as if he were still alive.

“Please don’t leave me here alone! How come you get a choice and I don’t?!”

His cries echo around the silent grounds of their cult and permeate deep into everything that can hear his grief. Eventually, though, there is a limit to the mortal vocal cords, and Leshy’s wails of grief die into hoarse shrieks that fade away with each passing vocalization. Still, the ex-god will not give up Rowan’s corpse for anything. He fights brutally as a few cult members come by to collect Rowan’s body for burial, using instinct as his only guide. He successfully maims two of their followers because of it, but Lambert can’t find themselves too torn up about it after witnessing Leshy’s grief in its purest form. Rowan's body will need to be collected eventually, lest it rots, but it can stay a while still before Leshy realizes clinging to it will not bring his lover back.

For now, though, the lamb watches as Leshy, throat screamed raw, weeps over the body of one of their most successful farmhands. Watches and, for some reason, find themselves crying too.

[fipindustries]

Is a really weird fact about human nature that we have creators. I think a lot about artists and crafters and artisans and gardeners and their creations. I think a lot about makers. I tend to view everything as art, and almost all human activity as an art of ceeation, and all products of human endeavors as projects, as art pieces.

and in that context having a baby is just another project a human may take up on. A human life as a work of art. And the parents as the artists responsible for that piece.

One does not usually think of their parents this way, at best one thinks of their parents as those really nice loving adults that gave food and shelter and love and care and are very important (or, at worst, monsters which do not bear to think about). But one does not think of them as The Creators.

Like my parents created me. To say that they gave me life feels like understating it, It sounds like i was already here and all i needed was to be activated. They created my flesh from nothing. I exist in this world because of their whim. They did the thing religions claim gods do.

And i cannot emphazise enough how, in my case at least, they are just some people. Like, whatever, they are nice and they have their flaws, and can be kind and can be really annoying but they are just two random ordinary humans who met each other at a club, sort of liked each other, and then they created life and that life was me. And then i visit them and have lunch with them and talk about the weather or whatever and all the while i kind of cant stop thinking in the back of my mind "this person created me!!! What the fuck!!!" Is like i can just hang out with the Gods, architects, creators of the heavens and earth and it turns they are a 55 year old lawyer who really likes the ramones and goes out with friends to play soccer and a 50 year old english teacher who watches the crown and likes eating ravioli while doing crochet (and also at the moment they created the heavens and earth they were 20 year old college students)

And that is the thing that trips me up a bit. If i had taken a look at these people, these mundane nobodies, i would have never guess they would make someone like me. I mean i have some things in common but i am also my own person who is extremely wildly different from them and yet i am the product of what they made of me. I am an ongoing chemical reaction that started in my moms loins and was fed and kept going and guided afterwards by them. And here i am.

This is not meant to comment on any duty of care or respect that one may owe to their parents, fuck that, those are things that had to be earned by them. Im more interested in the philosophical aspect of it. We wonder all the time "where we come from? Why do we exist?" And at least in the individual case the answer is, "these two other people"

Is kind of crazy the yuxtaposition of something that is so fundamental and also so ordinary.

[darkwood-sleddog]

Hi! I was curious about something. Often times in photos and videos sled dogs and other working dogs are tied up with their dog houses. I was wondering why people choose this over large fenced enclosures? Or do more owners do this then the media portrays? Does it come down to the cost of it or is there a purpose? Or do you think it would benefit dogs to switch over to enclosures? Sorry, I don't have any experience with this stuff so I'm very curious!

Random, but I follow this project on TikTok called chain free Knoxville which builds enclosures with high chain link fence and better shelters for free so dogs don't have to be tied up on a leash 24/7 with minimal protection. Obviously this is a different situation from working dogs but I think it's really neat that it helps people without judgement while still making the dogs life better.

Anyways, I loved to hear your answers! Thank you!

The main reason chains are used often for sled dogs is that it keeps them contained no matter how much snow falls and builds up, which can be a very big issues with dogs kept in pens in snowy environments. Of course many mushers also keep dogs in pens, but it requires a lot more work keeping snow away from the barrier than chain containment. Considering that huskies and sled dog types tend to be excellent escape artists regardless of containment, chaining also tends to be first choice containment as it is often the most fool proof way to keep your dogs where they need to be.

I want to impress that nothing about keeping dogs on chains is inherently cruel. If dogs are provided food, water, shelter, vet care, an environment free of feces, and enrichment such as work, play, free running etc. than it is not cruel and this includes non-sled dogs.

It is often the most affordable way that people can keep their dogs properly contained and properly contained is better than a dog that can jump fences and climb fenced constantly getting loose. I personally see no difference when a dog is kept on a chain properly then other types of non-fence containments like cable runs (considering most people don't have enough space for a large cable run, it really just is a longer chain...). I also don't think that chaining is any more or less "cruel" than keeping a dog crated all day (both restrict a dogs ability to move around during the day, but a crate much more so imo, at least a dog on a chain can go to the bathroom as needed...).

That being said, looking at Chain Free Knoxville's approach, I really like what they're doing and their mission statement. The type of the work they are doing, providing those in their community with resources to better care for their dogs, is greatly needed instead of judgement and harmful (often and historically anti-black, anti-poverty) legislation. Many people are extremely limited in what they can afford and good fencing is VERY expensive. I do wish that organizations like this would also educate about the correct way to chain (providing off chain time, exercise etc.), but I don't think anybody at such organizations sees any chained dog as a positive, so that nuance is probably out of the question from non-working dog folk.

Unlike many dogs deemed as "chained dogs" though, sled dogs do not spend a majority of their time on a chain because they need to build muscle and keep fit. A musher will be allowing their dogs to free run and play, the dogs will be taken out to work, many even spend rotating time inside their musher’s houses for individual and team bonding (I cannot even begin to list the number of Iditarod mushers I follow that posts pictures of like 16 dogs piled on their couch at once). Sled dogs that are going to be worked in extreme environments need to be kept outside often. 1.) they are bred for it and prefer it because of their insulating double coats which often cause them to be uncomfortable (sometimes to the point of overheating) indoors and 2.) they need to properly acclimate to the weather to be able to do their work safely.

What type of containment a musher (or any person honestly) may choose is an incredibly personal decision and there is neither a "better" or "worse" type of containment when it is done properly and dogs are cared for, just different options for different people. Again I impress, (as somebody that has crate trained dogs), how is people keeping their dogs in crates all day any better or worse than a dog on a chain with proper shelter, food and water? There is no one answer.

Being able to be chained calmly is also an important sled dog skill if you are going to take your dog places (being able to sit calmly on a short containment is a great dog skill regardless if you have a working dog or not imo). Expedition overnight? Dog needs to learn how to be on a drop chain/picket line which is similar to chaining. Same with a race. Same with if you are pulling over to have lunch on the trail and your dogs need to hang out calmly in harness for a bit. This is an important skill regardless if your dogs are kept in pens or on chains at home. My dogs sleep in my house, but spend a LOT of time outside. They are also trained to be chained because it is a necessary skill.

When looking into proper sled dog care guidelines I highly recommend the Mush with P.R.I.D.E. sled dog care guidelines and kennel inspection program requirements. The care guidelines lay out how dogs should be kept in multiple types of containment and it is a care ethics organization run by mushers, for mushers. I personally find their guidelines and kennel requirements a step above what pet dogs often receive in terms of care, enrichment and living environment.

[tigerspite]

Would you believe me if I said I re-wrote this from scratch four times?

Anyway. Hopefully this gives a bit of context to the previous chapter. Remember that this is all being written out of order.

Read the rest of The Devil's Claw here

Next chapter

-

CHAPTER ?? / The Captive

Under blue pre-dawn light, a human staggers across a beach on the southern coast of England. His clothes are ragged and torn, hanging from his body after soaking up sea water, and his dark blonde hair is plastered to his head. He makes it no further than twenty paces up the sandy slope towards the cliffs before collapsing, crawling towards the shelter of a rock and slumping against it.

"He is already dead. This is a waste of our time," Varzis hisses, her glare ferocious. "Solkis has no use for specimens like this."

Wethraks lurks behind an outcrop with the rest of the crew, fixed on the unmoving body. So few humans remain around the steep and rugged cliff edges of the coast, with almost all viable land destroyed by dramatically increased sea levels and the natural disasters surrounding Earth's Collapse. His patrol ventured so far in search of any surviving colonies and securing the area, but the man is the first he has seen in days. A dim flicker in the back of his mind suspects he is a distraction, a decoy to start an ambush on his crew, but their scouting Shanks and Servitors are silent.

The human clinging to the boulder before them is utterly and completely alone.

"There is nothing of worth in a half-drowned human." she continues, turning away as if she cannot stand to look at him any longer.

""Humans don't come out of the sea," he counters. "Solkis will want to study him, even if he releases him afterwards. There has to be a reason why he's here."

Chuffing sharply at his rebuttal, she shoves a set of chains and cuffs into his hands. "Then he is your burden alone. Some of us have better things to attend, and a city to go home to."

He flexes his mandibles in protest, but Varzis stalks away before he can make a more coherent argument. The members of the crew who do not yet understand that he is the one in command, not her, follow with haste. Having authority over her while he is a Vandal, and she is a Captain who saw him freshly docked and joining her crew on Sepiks-Fel, is not an adjustment she accepts.

With an aggrieved sigh, Wethraks rises to his full height and slinks from his hiding place. Cautious, he circles from several feet away, scanning for concealed weapons or wounds on the human that might aggravate if he touches the wrong place. Provoking him into a fight when he has no backup is certain doom. Adult males particularly tend to resist capture, especially when alone, and Solkis's trappers have plenty of scars and stories between them to prove why they recommend specific care be taken.

While caked in sand and salt and draped across a boulder, however, he appears harmless enough.

Alerted to movement, the man stirs and lifts his head. Eyes cloudy with exhaustion, he stares without registering what is in front of him. Before he is able to spend any more time processing, however, Wethraks steps behind him and closes in to take his arms.

Mercifully, he does not resist the shackles. But the dead weight of one limb, colder than the rest of his body, steals his focus away. Rolling the cuff of his sweater sleeve up, he a wrist made entirely of metal. Through the rips in the fabric, steel plates shift over each other as he pulls his arm around to restrain him fully. It looks like a prosthetic limb - one at odds with post-Collapse human manufacturing, and unusually elaborate to be of Eliksni make. Dozens of wires and servos within work together to produce the most subtle movements, indistinguishable from a real limb, and he cannot help but feel along his back to find the seam where metal meets flesh around his shoulder.

For a moment, he wonders if he is one of the mechanical humanoids that are occasionally found in the wilds given flesh and bone, a monstrous experiment never meant to see the light of day. Casting him out to sea to be forgotten would ensure that nobody learned of what happened, but they must not have accounted for whether the tides would carry him ashore. Through that, he feels a pang of sympathy for the man. Solkis's anthropologists would be over him like flies, regardless, elated at the opportunity to investigate someone so unusual. They would take better care than whoever had him before.

Confident that he is secure and too exhausted to fight back, Wethraks takes the chain trailing off of the handcuffs and drags him from the rock, pulling him up the path towards the cliff face. His captive slides through the sand without resistance, weighing nothing compared to others he has taken. As concerning as it is, he finds he is thankful. A pliable, co-operative human is more accepting of their fate and more willing to be left sedated in a cell than someone who comprehends what is happening to them. Even if the agreeableness comes from a dangerous lack of energy.

It takes a few minutes until he reaches the top of the cliff, where the anchored convoy of Skiffs rests. At their edge, Varzis narrows her eyes to see him and chatters her mandibles in distaste. She heaves herself away from the ship she rests against with a growl, personally inconvenienced by his brief detour but already moving to the loading ramp.

"Wait there. We'll have to re-distribute the salvage to accommodate your prize." she calls, bobbling her head before disappearing into the circle of ships to unload.

Wethraks chitters back in return, choosing to ignore her vitriol and pulling his human to where a set of storage crates have been stacked. Propping him up to sit against it and lifting the crate to put the end of the chain underneath, he hums at the paleness to his skin. Cold like ice. Without intervention that he does not have access to, and although the Skiff is warm, he senses he may not survive the journey home unless extra care is taken.

Unbuckling his cloak, he settles it over the man and tucks it in around his body. The action rouses him, blinking up at his captor in a daze, and the recognition of his situation takes a few seconds to register. His breath catches and he jerks back, the metal limb twisting to try and pry free of his bindings.

"Stop, stop stop stop!" Wethraks trills, putting all four hands out to steady him. Careful to avoid touching him directly, he keeps him corralled against the box. "I am not going to hurt you!"

Breathing heavy and eyes wild, the fear scent emanating from him is palpable. There is no way it can be his first encounter with Eliksni, but Wethraks senses that it may be the first time he has heard one speak his language. That often shocks and disorients the other captives the most.

He crouches down to his level to seem as non-threatening as possible. "So- um, hello," He gives an awkward little wave with an upper hand and offers a smile. "I have to let you know that you've been captured for being on House Devils territory. You'll be safe, but my Captain is taking us back to London with you as our prisoner."

The human blinks hard again, staring for a heartbeat too long in the wake of his introduction. That, or he is attempting to work out whether anything in front of him is real or a delusion. He glances around, brow furrowed while he searches to make sense of any of his surroundings.

"My name is Wethraks, Vandal of House Devils," He leans over, back into his line of sight and blocking out anything that could confuse him further. "I need to ask you a few questions, unless you have any for me first?"

The man sighs, and a voice rough from saltwater and disuse comes out of him. “What do you want from me?"

“I'm afraid it's not really my business, my Baron makes those decisions," Wethraks shakes his head. "But we will take care of you, he may want to see you personally. He's friendly."

His affirmations receive nothing more than a grunt and another bout of broken eye contact. He shifts where he sits, wincing in protest of the movement, but offers nothing further to say.

Wethraks waits until he is done and settled, watching him expectantly. "Are you hurt?"

The response is short and immediate. "No."

"Okay," he trails off, and tilts his head. "Can I ask for your name?"

"Yami."

"Do you know how you got here?"

Silence. A mistrustful, sideways look.

"Do you know where you are, or where you were before this?"

No answer.

Wethraks understands then that it is going to be a very, very long trip back to London.

[thekimspoblog]

Sweetness

Jimmy is around in "Slippin Kimmy", but there's no suspense or tension about his relationship to Kim. He's always loved her, he always will, even as he fights her it's almost inevitable that he will do what she asks. There's nothing "will they or won't they?" about this relationship.

The real whirlwind romance in this story is between Kim and a pistol.

We see her practicing at a shooting range with this handgun at the tail end of Episode 1. Then, in an extended flashback in Episode 2, we see where she got it: during the crisis at the Florida clinic, it was knocked out of the active shooter's hands and Kim grabbed it. She didn't use it on anyone; she just wanted to take the gun away from the bad guy, but she also chose to flee the scene before the police showed up. At first, Kim wanted to get rid of the gun, but after being attacked by the crooked cop she decides to keep it and learn to use it.

The gun continues to make appearances in Episodes 3, 4, 5, and 6, mainly as Kim attempts to do business with Dawson, and I want to spend a lot of time on the duality of Kim's feelings towards this object. In her mind, the pistol represents acquiescence to an extremist worldview, where everything comes down to a matter of life or death. And even as someone who's become disillusioned with the government, Kim is still warry that true justice cannot be carried out without an appreciation for nuance. On the other hand, the gun also represents responsibility: There's a recurring theme this season about Dawson and his meat industry, how everyone wants to eat steak but few people want to kill the cows, and how the money Dawson has made from doing the dirty work for the public is what has made him rich enough to perpetrate all this political corruption. The implication being that perhaps the "Law" is something similar; we put our faith in a higher institution to maintain social order for us, but this doesn't eliminate the ethical problem of vigilantism; it just outsources the power to make difficult choices to an untrustworthy third party. It doesn't matter how you order society; as long as you entrust one person to hand down punishments for everyone else, that person is going to be exempt from punishment themselves. The way Dawson sees it, the only alternative - the only mature choice - is chaos. He wants to return to the anarchy of the wild west, where if you're a MAN you don't come crying to Big Brother about your problems, you deal with your enemies with your own two hands.

This all comes to a head in Episode 7, when Kim finds Mary in the church playhouse. Mary gives Kim an ultimatum: if Kim endorses (or at least condones) Mary's crimes as justified, then she must give her food and shelter in the Church. If she condemns her actions, the moral thing for Kim to do would be to end Mary here and now. Mary has no remorse for the people she's killed, she even tells Kim she plans to kill more people, but she also realizes that without support she will probably be dead in a few weeks anyway. She just doesn't care anymore, she's too hurt confused and angry. She dares Kim to put her out of her misery, because that way at least Kim would stop Mary from taking other people down with her.

In spite of everything that has happened, Kim makes the choice to call the police and turn Mary in. Even though she knows getting the law involved means Jimmy will be going back to prison, and likely this time she'll be joining him. But emergency services don't answer the call: the rioting in Cheyanne means that the police won't arrive for hours if at all. Outsourcing this ethical quandary to the justice system has officially been taken off the table, so Kim must choose between helping Mary or killing her. And still, Kim does neither, opting instead to tie Mary up until police arrive or she can think of a better plan.

She keeps the gun trained on Mary just to keep her in check, all the while Mary egging her on to just pull the trigger already. But then, a distraction! Kim turns her back on Mary for two minutes because she thinks she heard Jimmy scream, and that is enough for Mary to wriggle free of her bindings and tackle Kim. She wrestles the pistol away from Kim and escapes out the Church's front door. Kim never sees the handgun again.

So everything comes down to a matter of perspective, and more specifically a question of whether Mary's victims deserved to die. Episode 7 put Kim in a position where she was going to break the 6th commandment no matter what, where her choice was between murdering a murderer or sparing that murderer's life so she can continue to kill other murderers. Was it cowardly, that Kim refused to do either option, and in doing so she ended up letting someone else make the choice for her? Or was it brave, that in spite of everyone around her trying to push her to her extremes, Kim refused to approach the dilemma as a binary? Maybe what's important is that Kim found a line she wasn't willing to cross, even if part of her knows that line is arbitrary.

In any case, this was the second time Kim's held a gun but it won't be the last.

[wiredaughter]

@tropetember #22: canon rewrite/everyone lives

Missed You

supernatural ☆ adam milligan/michael ☆ ao3 ☆ fixit ☆ temporary presumption of a character death im sorry(? ☆ light angst

Adam liked the rain. He'd seen his memories, walking home after school in the drizzle, going out to the yard in a downpour, falling asleep to it on stormy nights. Now, Adam's gone, and it's just him getting rained on. He still does it, figures it's the least he can do now.

He doesn't really know what else to do, let alone how is he alive at all. Without Adam. He's got a working understanding of the new world order, where a nephilim has assumed control of heaven, but can't resolve the reason he's alive in this body, without its rightful owner. He tried to bring him back as soon as he was aware of him missing. And that was, truly, the first thing he registered before even parsing out his own return to life. Then he realised he wasn't able to raise the dead anymore. Being cut off from heaven was a new experience for him, but going back was out of the question. Heaven had taken so much from both him and Adam, there was no way.

So now, he lives like he thinks Adam would like to. He goes out for a walk when it rains, then makes sure to take a hot shower afterwards. A bath, if the hotel he's crashing has a bathtub. He still can't get sick, really, but it feels like taking care of his vessel. He sings up for a correspondence course with Adam's old email, gets a job in the post office. This seems adequate, being that he was a messenger of the divine, but it doesn't last. He leaves mid-shift on his second week, snaps away when he sees one of his coworkers mouthshrug just like Adam used to when he was unsure of something. Leaves town, zaps into a suite on the other side of the country. Everyone around him is alive, fragile like a human and yet alive.

He opts to apply for jobs online, but he can't bring himself to care. He sends a couple applications but forgets to follow up on them, and his course emails continue to clutter his inbox, unread. He changes towns again, stays close to the East Coast, knowing Adam had visited Maine on holiday a couple of times with his mother. It's not the same, it's not enough. It does nothing to quell the feeling of being dead where it matters. He finds himself praying one night, seeking revelation, and all he hears is a call to come home. Heaven keeps to itself. Right. The way he openly dissents is also new, but he cannot be arsed. It was heaven's machinations that got Adam killed, going back is out of he question.

He's alone with his grief, that much is evident. He'll need to work this out on his own, both for his sake and for his vessel. He settles down on Kittery, and actually gets a lease this time. He walks the beaches for nights on end, doesn't bother getting a job but starts volunteering at a local shelter. He thinks Adam would like that, and it doesn't require him to work close to anyone. There's a dinner two blocks away, and he eats there when he remembers to.

On Saturdays, he's supposed to man the counter for a couple of hours. He used to dread it, but has since started appreciating humans in a distant way. The man who walks in with his headphones playing loud enough for him to recognise the song as one Adam liked, the overexcited girl who's eyes are just the right shade of blue- the way they make the human's absence hurt in his chest hasn't changed, but it's not entirely unwelcome. He's not running from the memory, he reminds himself this Saturday as he walks to the building under a light drizzle bundled in an anorak in a shade of ochre he thinks would have looked good on Adam. It looked good in the mirror, and he'd forgone stopping for breakfast for an extra thirty minutes of staring into the eyes he loved as Adam's. It's a slow day, which lets him sit back after taking the mats out of the drier. He's focused on his book, a sequel from a saga Adam liked but was still unfinished when he went to hell, when he hears the door open.

'Welcome to Big Paws rescue...'

'You! Me? What...'

It's the voice more than the words that get him to look up from the pages at- 'Adam?'

He's on his feet before he realises, putting the desk behind him and stopping to take in his figure. He'd recognise his soul no matter what, but he's changed. He takes it all in in an instant, dyed black hair longer now, the glasses, the eyes that are unmistakably Adam. The human is frozen in place, but reaches out as Michael advances towards him. Any doubts he might have held disappear when his hand meets the archangel's. He's stumbling forward and holding him tight like he's trying to melt into him and Michael feels more than sees the lights flickering above them and he can't hear the dogs barking because it just now hits him the human's not even wearing the same aftershave he did last time they met. His power is pouring out of him like it hasn't since he came back, and even as the human huffs his awe into his shoulder he hears his thoughts rushing in, and how he's missed that. How are you alive? and You look just like I did, what are you doing here, were you really reading that? and I've missed you. Missed you so much. The door opens brusquely, the weekend manager stumbling into the room looking troubled.

'I've called an electrician!' He pants. 'Adam?'

They both turn at that, not breaking apart, to see him sigh between bewildered and relieved as the lights stop flashing on and off. They can hear distant car alarms and Adam nudges him discreetly to get him to turn them off. The older man looks between them until Michael steps back, his wrist still in Adam's firm grip. The manager throws a look around. 'I'm going to keep an eye out for any storm warning too.'

Michael clears is throat. 'Sure, I'll do the same.' He turns to Adam. 'This is Elijah, he's the manager. Elijah, this is my boyfriend-'

He tenses imperceptibly as soon as he says it. They never really talked about their relationship, never had a reason to. Adam, however, seems undeterred. 'Fiancee, actually.' He extends his free hand to shake Elijah and has the nerve to wink at Michael. 'I'm Michael.'

[yjwhatif]

I wonder what all the younger heroes plan to do career-wise once they're older. What do you think? I can't really see Bart becoming a scientist like Barry or Wally, or a reporter like Iris, so he's a mystery. Maybe a counselor like Ed? Helping kids with traumatic backgrounds? Does Jaime want to be a dentist like in the comics? What about Cassie? She doesn't wear a mask or anything, so is she a public hero now? And Virgil? Even Tim and the other Batkids? Sorry for the overload, just curious!

Sooo... for reasons I cannot explain, I am terrible at thinking these sorts of things up (seriously I can even do it for my own life) hence why it has taken me SO LONG to come up with any of this (very sorry about that)... anyway, here goes...

Careers…

(there is absolutely no logic or reasoning behind most of these - I just wrote down the first thing I thought of… and I have no wider DC canon knowledge either...)

Ed - (who is probably the easiest one) would be some kind of counsellor… maybe if we ever see the sanctuary thing Dinah mentioned in the last episode we could see Ed actually working there as a counsellor (I presume there’d be councillors there) - the MHYC certainly doesn’t seem to have much happening there anymore - so maybe that’s his next step?

Bart - definitely something with kids - I imagine he loves babysitting and being around kids who are bursting with energy all the time - he’s good at keeping up with them - so something that involves taking care of them.

Jaime - an engineer… i can see him studying in something technical but I definitely cannot see YJs jaime being a dentist… but who knows maybe he is - Greg and Brandon do like keeping in obscure comic details - like Dinah being a florist.

Traci - something with animals… I can imagine her working/volunteering in an animal shelter and having a strong connection with all the animals  

Cassie - a writer...

And Virgil - something artistic... illustrator or photographer maybe...

Again, there’s no actual reasoning behind these two, I’ve just got this image of Cassie shadowing Clark at work and cassie not shying away from going straight into a difficult story and Clark being impressed and a really great mentor - those two bonding would be so fun to see (honestly, after s4, I just want more Clark interacting with the youngsters - it'd be cool)… Then maybe Virgil could be like the jimmy Olsen to Cassie's Clark Kent - they have such a strong friendship, and I like the idea of them teaming up outside of the hero game - it doesn't have to be in journalism, but whatever it is, she writes and he illustrates to create something truly epic!

Raquel - I have no clue and can't even think of something random...

same goes for kaldur - though i feel like for him, up until the end of his arc in s4, his life was being Aquaman or serving the king/council in some way and nothing else... so yeah, no other clues on him.

then, Dick - a detective, but in his off time he goes back to his acrobatics...

and Zatanna is a stage magician.

And that’s all I got for potential professions. In terms of secret id’s, I will say i have always been confused on what the situation is with those who don't where masks who are public heroes - Ed, Virgil, Cassie - i presume they're just out and, given nothing has ever been said otherwise, I guess they don’t get too much trouble from it. I don’t know but I would really like to see what everyday life is like for those who don’t wear masks - I imagine there’s the odd selfie request… and now I have the image of Ed and Bart walking down the street when they’re stopped by someone asking if they can have a picture with Ed the Outsiders, the kid gives Bart the camera and he and Ed just share a knowing look at each other before taking the picture, the kid thanks them both and goes merrily on his way while bart and Ed playfully tease each other for the rest of the day.

Thanks for the messages anons - I hope this answered at least some of your questions…

LB

[hxrricvnes]

c. | ryann lux matthews.

I had to fight like hell  and fighting like hell  has made me who I am. 

Is that KATELYN NACON? No, that’s just RYANN MATTHEWS. They were born on 06/11/1997 and are a WITCH living in Northknot Town. They work as a BARTENDER AT THE GRAPEVINE AT NIGHT and RAVING RAVEN DURING THE DAY. Some say they're HARDWORKING and CARING, but I’ve heard others say they're PARANOID and OVERPROTECTIVE. When you think of HER, don’t you think of A CHILDHOOD NEVER HAD, WARM COFFEE ON A COLD MORNING, LIGHTNING VICIOUSLY STRIKING ACROSS THE NIGHT SKY AS THE SKY WEEPS?

A E S T H E T I C

the smell of the air after it rains. a childhood never had. sleepless nights with pale skin shining in the moonlight. magic radiating in waves. warm coffee on a cold morning. a sisterly willpower to protect. a sparkle fighting to shine once again. lightning viciously striking across the night sky as the sky weeps.

M U S I C    P L A Y E R

“  miss the person i never got to be . . . never got to be wild like the horses , naive like a child . horrors of the world came knocking , knocking  .   ”   wild horses  by  grace powers. “  i will send out an army to find you . in the middle of the darkest night, it's true . i will rescue you. there is no distance that cannot be covered . over and over . you're not defenseless . i'll be your shelter , i'll be your armor . ”  rescue by lauren daigle “  all the battles , all the wars , all the times that you've fought . she's a scar , she's the bruises , she's the pain that you brought . there was life , there was love , like a light and it's fading out . ”  broken home by 5sos

P E R S O N A L I T Y  

ryann learned early on how to be independent. she never wanted to be home but also kept to herself. no one ever pushed her to open up. so due to all that, she does take a minute to warm up to people. but despite everything, she is extremely kind and always willing to help someone in need. she basically raised herself and from the age of 13 she raised her brother. so all she really knows is how to look out for others. once she becomes close with people, she tends to put their needs before her own. which isn't always a bad thing, but does make it obvious how little she care about herself. she's working on it. she's also very smart despite not going to school past high school. in her teens, school was her escape and then became her way of making sure she knew all she had to for her brother. she had little time for herself and basically had to learn it everything and do it quickly. anytime she's faced with learning how to do a new task, she manages pretty quickly. ryann's also known to be very respectful. some of it steaming from the years of abuse and only being able to refer to her own parents as "sir/ma'am". but also coming from the fact she of all people knows how well people can be at keep secrets. she doesn't know what everyone is going through. also known to be extremely hardworking. as soon as she was able, she would work any job she could. she had to provide for luca. and nothing was off limits. she has slowed down a bit, but still does work two jobs.

H E A D C A N O N S

born in england to robert and lisa matthews, ryann never stood a change to having a good childhood. the matthews never wanted children but they worked for a man who told them that once ryann was of age, he'd take her so he could take her power. unlike robert and lisa, the man knew that the matthews came from a powerful bloodline and if it hadn't been for their own efforts to dull their own powers, he would have taken them instead. despite knowing that they wouldn't have to keep her long, they treated her poorly. as soon as she could walk, she was left alone. and due to her age, she got into things and made messes. this caused her a lot of trouble and the abuse turned more physical. even though she didn't understand fully, the pain was enough to let her know that she wasn't allowed to do much of anything. suffering from years of abuse, ryann did try to run away a few times. especially after she reached the age of ten. that was the age she realised that those accidents that seemed to happen when she was scared or upset were because of her magic. she had overheard her parents talking about it. but her parents wouldn't let her since they still planned on just handing her over. not that ryann knew that. when she was thirteen she stopped trying. that's when her brother, luca, was born. ryann fell in love immediately and started taking care of him without being told too. which her parents were fine with. the only reason they kept him, was because they figured when their boss showed up again, he'd be happy to take both and would repay them since they were offering double now. the young teen age promised that luca would never have to hurt the way she had. he was never neglected and ryann took all the physical abuse for him. anytime he accidentally did something wrong, she said it was her. once she was eighteen, she had enough money saved up for her and luca to leave england so she packed up and came to the states. living on and off the streets for awhile. woking any and all jobs to get buy and save up. it took her a little less then a year to have everything fully sorted and she was able to reconnect with everett, a childhood friend who told her about northknot. she was only nineteen at the time. besides with everett, she struggled cause while most people seemed nice and left her a long, she didn't miss the judgement either from people who thought she was a single teen mom with a six year old. and while it didn't matter what people thought, it did remind her of why she has a hard time letting people in. she was there for a little over a year when luca was taken while she was at work. and despite knowing she had people now who would help her, she left right after him without letting many people know. it took her about three months to catch their trail, but by that time, the hunters had taken luca back to england. they planned to return him to their parents so they could give him over to the man from before. this is when ryann learned the truth about all that. once she found her brother again, she had to deal with the hunters, who were holding onto him waiting for instructions. ryann ended up using her powers, but despite having learned more and finally having the hang of things... her fear and anger took control and she killed the hunters. despite knowing they were bad and it was in protection of luca... and that she'd do it again for luca, it still haunts her. being reunited with her brother wasn't the end of things. she now knew the truth and feared for her brother's safety. so she decided to not rush back. instead, she used this time to study harder and practice her magic as well as help luca learn more. spending more time looking over her shoulder then feeling safe. after a few years of this, she knew luca was tired of moving around so much. so she made her way back to northknot. it was the only place she's ever felt safe. she didn't want one bad event take that from her. being back for the last few years now, ryann has relaxed a little more, but with everything happening around town, she's still pretty stressed.

C O N N E C T I O N S

witch friend. this is a person she met here in northknot and maybe didn't know much about magic until getting to northknot. they bonded over figuring things out. ryann isn't in a coven right, so maybe they aren't either or are new to one and they help ryann out a little and get her to join with them. someone connected to the man who wanted to steal ryann and luca's powers. they don't/didn't know about ryann or luca. but just had that connection to the man. once they find out, they can either work again ryann or try to help her. whatever works. MORE: friends. co-workers. someone who just doesn't like ryann. etc.

[mushroomwillow]

Ok like….

My new “friend” has nothing but horrible things to say about our boss. Now yes, our company is run like shit. However, our boss is new. Like last 6 months new. So yeah no shit she gets in bad moods sometimes. Yes! It is frustrating! And it does make me angry! But this “friend” is hell bent on “taking down the company”. Listen, healthcare sucks ass. I have so many issues and so much I hate about it. But these are people who are trying.

And I’ve told her that I cannot lose this job, I love this job, I need this job. Do I think she can actually “take it down” not really no. Especially after talking to other patients that have had her. I’ve heard all the same things, she doesn’t listen to their needs, she doesn’t follow their care plans, and she’s loud, crass, and overall rude.

Now, my boss has told me many many times that I’ve been requested by everyone I’ve worked with. My current patient being taken from our care is heartbreaking. Next week, he’s no longer on our care. This “friend” has been removed from the schedule in October. Starting Tuesday this week, my boss has been back and forth with me asking who I want to work with, two of which she said are brand new and she immediately thought of me when she did their assessments. And her last text to me she said I get first dibs on whoever I want.

I have a very hard time accepting that any of her words are fact, but then again, given how this “friend” is acting, I have to believe that I’m at least not as bad as she is. And every patient I’ve gone too who has recognized me, has begged me to stay working with them. I’m just scared of like, believing I’m good at something because then I’ll make a mistake and everything will crash and burn.

This is a lot of rambling to pretty much say, this “friend” has forced her way into my life, is young and immature and very sheltered of how people like me cannot lose their job or just find a new one no big deal. And because I have my own place that obviously means I can afford to not work (which is fucking bullshit). It’s all bothering me and the only reason I’m even talking to her is I’m watching her cat for her for a while.

[mylittlehellwolf]

I certainly do feel the superiority sometimes, especially when humans attempt to abuse or manipulate me, but most of the time I too am fascinated by the odd little creatures that managed to take over an entire planet by pure force of will. It's amazing to see the diversity required to make that happen! And they are so cute sometimes with how they pack bond! They will put googly eyes on an object and personify it and suddenly it is a member of their pack - as real and important as a pet fish. They name their plants and love them and have serious and personal conversations with them despite knowing they have no idea if the plant cares for the interaction or their affection. They form deep emotional attachments and bond with the vehicles and technology they produce - many will keep a car/computer/phone/etc FAR past the point of deserving a replacement exclusively because they are bonded with it.

They have made what for any other species would see as purely shelter into HOMES - a place you love and care for and decorate - to the point where they feel distressed and detached when they sleep elsewhere and often have anxiety about doing so purely because it isn't *their* shelter.

Yes, they have caused extinction in many cases, but in others they have single-handedly refused to let a species die out by forming expensive breeding programs. If the captive-born animals cannot be released into the wild successfully without dying out again, then they will KEEP THOSE SPECIES ENTIRELY IN CAPTIVITY!! That means they will spent thousands of dollars for the rest of the foreseeable future protecting animals that have fallen out of the order of nature's way of doing things! Why? Because they believe that everything, inherrently, on the basis of it's existence and nothing more than that, has a right to be on this planet.

Also there are many of them who throw their survival instincts completely out of the window in an attempt to save even the smallest form of life - sometimes even things that could kill them with one blow. Some of them will pick up an animal actively trying to attack them and move it out of harm's way with nothing but gentle, loving care in their hearts. It's heartwarming to see a species that took over this planet still have that kind of sentiment towards the other lifeforms even if they pose a threat to them.

The creatures that they have not yet taught to trust them, they make small versions of out of fabric so they can PRETEND to hold and touch them. They sleep with these at night to feel secure!

The creatures they have taken in from the wild into their homes are some of nature's fiercest predators - bred for thousands of years not to lose the ability to be a predator, but to be a smaller, cuter predator that feels nice to touch. And if the animal doesn't want to be touched in spite of it's entire life being maintained for free by that human? Then it will not be touched! It is a living being that has a right to not be touched anyway. Living in captivity rarely strips an animal of it's rights in most ways, actually. If it does not like a certain bowl or food or treat (a concept they completely made up to reward an animal for it's very existence!!!!) or litter box or bed or toy or anything else, the human will 9/10 times relentlessly work to find a replacement it does prefer. These pets they've brought into their homes are not *just* treated with the respect another human would be - they are held on a pedastal and idolized for no other reason than that they are there even though the human brought them there.

The worst of this species is disgustingly horrific, yes, but the best and even the neutral ones are sweet and very fun to watch. I adore them and I appreciate the time I've been given on this Earth to live amongst them and call some of them my friends and family. Many who know I am a demon have still chosen to love and respect me and make me part of their pack in spite of the lie that the vessel I use is telling them, in spite of the years I lied to them pretending I was human.

There are entire groups of humans equally fascinated with my own species - and in an odd turn of events, find themselves attracted to and/or aroused by us *because* they perceive us as a threat. How that survived in evolution is a wonder to me, and it is cute as hell.

I don't doubt that Lucifer put me here for a reason! I was becoming cold and jaded by war and daily life amongst demons and angels and the hate that often exists between them. I lost my sense of wonder, which is a vital resource to continue living.

Whilst I miss my home sometimes, I am beyond grateful for the opportunity my need to recover in a weaker vessel has given me.

going through fellow divinekin blogs is so alienating sometimes. they give off a sense of superiority to humans (no judgement there, just pointing it out) and i seem to be the only one to love being on this earth with them and being one of them. i love humanity in all it’s disastrous glory. it’s all so fascinating. i probably just need to look more i’m sure there are others similar to me

🌌

[phoenixyfriend]

A Candle in the Night

(Read on AO3)

In which Luminara finds a heavily injured Jedi, nurses him back to health, and falls in love.

Then they get back to the real world, and she just can't figure him out...

For day two of Anakin Rarepair week, inspired entirely by that one anon.

Chapter 1/2, the second will be posted later today

--

Luminara has only been a knight for three years.

She is twenty-four, not quite a fresh adult for a species that ages so close to the galactic average, but young enough that people often don’t take her seriously. She is the kind of Jedi that people expect, in behavior and in bearing, even if her choice of clothing is based far more heavily in the culture of her birth than that of her upbringing. She is calm and controlled and compassionate, even if she sometimes has to hide how nervous these solo missions make her.

Sometimes, Luminara wishes she were a bit more of the kind of Jedi that people do not expect, a jedi like Quin or Obi, or even Depa. Maybe then, she’d have a better response to her ship being sabotaged, her communications blocked, and both of the factions she was meant to be negotiating a peace for turning to try and kill her instead.

Nothing brought sentients together like a common enemy.

--

Luminara is not ashamed to admit that she’s in hiding.  She has no way off planet until she can steal a ship, or a comm unit. Given the current situation, she’s not sure she can get into the city long enough to manage that. All the tech is in a language she doesn’t recognize, so… it’s not exactly a quick in-and-out trip to a local interstellar payment comm station. She’d have to figure out how to even work it, couldn’t leave until she had, and that means a sure chance of getting shot at.

So she hides in the mountains, and tries to figure out where to go from here. She can survive indefinitely here. The plant life is familiar enough to forage, and there’s a cave she can take shelter in from the daily thunderstorms. It’s temperate, for all that the weather rages from dawn to early afternoon, so she can offset the problems her heavy, water-absorbent clothes cause her if she gets caught in the rain. It isn’t pleasant, but she can make it through.

Then the second ship crashes.

--

The wreck is miles away from her, but there’s a spark of life in it, like a star to her senses, and she knows that there is a Jedi aboard. Technically, it is not the only option; there are plenty of Force Sensitives across the galaxy. Something about this one is just… Jedi, though. Familiar.

She thinks the Order may have realized she’s in trouble, and sent back-up. She thinks the local government may have shot the second Jedi down, for much the same reasons they’d attacked her. She thinks that, if her fellow was injured in this crash, she cannot leave them to the mercy of people who hate them for reasons beyond her understanding.

Luminara sprints to downed ship. She arrives before the locals do. She uses her saber to get through the hall, for the hatch is smoking, and ignores the unfamiliar circle symbol. It is not important in this moment. The person inside is.

The human inside is a Jedi, though not one she knows. They carry a saber, and the clothes they wear are in the fashion of Jedi classics. She pulls them from the ship, makes sure there are no spinal injuries to be careful off, and ducks out just as the first speeders land.

Luminara takes the human to her cave. She lays them out, and Luminara is not a healer, nor does she have any plans to be one, but she’s taken enough classes to almost qualify for many things. She knows just how painful those burns on his arms are, just how dangerous the already-infected wound on his leg. The man is feverish and unconscious, and she worries that there is a head injury to handle on top of the rest.

She gathers herbs from the nearest patches of forest, clean water—the Force has many uses, after all—and tears her own skirt for bandages to boil. She makes poultices, with half her hearing on the speeders that search the forest below, and applies them to human Jedi’s wounds. She hopes that her handmade, natural remedy will be as helpful as the Healing Hall’s readymade medicinal creams, but she is limited in what she can use. Half the plants are familiar, yes, but she doesn’t dare try those she doesn’t recognize.

The human sleeps on.

Oh, there are periods of almost-wakefulness. They speak, technically. They try to sit up, for all that they immediately fall.

They are unmoored and incognizant, muttering for people she knows and more that she doesn’t. They know Obi-Wan, apparently, but the rest are… well, she doesn’t know an Ahsoka, Rex, Fives, Kix, or most of the others that the Jedi calls out for. They recognize her, seemingly, call her ‘Master Unduli’ with confusion and only a shade less disorientation than the others. They ask her where Barriss is, which is as confusing a question as any, because the only person she knows by that name is a five-year-old in the crèche.

She tells the Jedi this. They may not register her answer at all, because they drift off again soon after.

She changes out the wet cloth on their forehead.

--

The fever breaks. The Jedi wakes.

“Careful,” Luminara warns, when they start moving. “Your stomach wound is nowhere near healed yet. Don’t sit up without help.”

They don’t. They stop struggling rather quickly, actually, which is gratifying. “Stomach wound?”

“Some sort of hook, or a serrated blade, I think,” she tells them. “I’ve packed it clean and have tried to speed the healing, but it’s not my specialty. Thank you for following instructions, now that you’re aware.”

“Been injured too many times to ignore the medics,” the Jedi mumbles. “Where…?”

“A little planet by the name of Reverenta. I was dispatched to broker some peace negotiations, but they quickly fell through and both parties turned on me. I had assumed the Order found out and sent you to help me get off the planet, but your ship was shot down.”

“Brokering…?” the human mumbles, brow furrowed in pain. They grimace. “No, I was in a dogfight with Grievous and some of his vulture droids. One of them got me in the port engine while I was distracted.”

“I do not know who that is,” Luminara admits, “but I hope that the situation is resolved soon. Was there anyone with you that may know to follow?”

The human stares at her. She thinks, perhaps, that the possible head injury is still affecting their cognition.

“Let me get you some water,” she offers. “You must be thirsty.”

The human continues to watch her. She tries not to take it personally. When she turns back from the pot she’s been using to keep and boil water, they are lightly feeling along the bandages she has on their abdomen. “Don’t fiddle with them.”

“Just mapping out,” the human tells her, eyes on the ceiling. They finish feeling at the edges, and drop their hand. Their head falls to the side, just looking at her. “I need a sanity check. What’s the date?”

“Third day, eighth month, six-nineteen,” she tells them. “You think you lost time to a head injury? I couldn’t tell if there was any damage, just that there wasn’t any cranial bleeding.”

“Something like that,” they mutter. She doesn’t ask further; they seem familiar enough with injury that they may have a private history with memory loss that she isn’t entitled to, even in their circumstances. “You’re… Luminara Unduli?”

“Yes,” she tells them. “You actually recognized me, while you were still in a fever, though you called me a Master. I am only a knight.”

“How old are you right now?” they ask. Their brow is furrowed again.

“Twenty-four,” she tells them. “I’m afraid I don’t have your name. You don’t wear a padawan braid, so I assume you’re a knight as well?”

“Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker,” they say, with a practiced, almost mocking lilt. “Twenty-one. I’m a ‘him,’ if that was your next question.”

“Not the next, but coming up,” she says. She shifts closer, and takes his hand. He stares in confusion until he realizes that she is taking his pulse. “How do you feel?”

“Like I just woke up with the worst hangover of my life, because my fighter ducked out of hyperspace while I was too out of it to fix the nav,” Skywalker mumbles. “Must’ve spent days in that thing without the… the… fuck, I can’t get the word.”

Luminara files this away. Infection needed time to set in, so it makes sense that Skywalker had a few days between suffering the injury and landing in her care.

“Drink something,” she tells him again, because she still has the water she’d been getting when they started questioning their memory. She does set it aside first, because Skywalker needs help to sit up, but it’s still only a few seconds before she’s pressing the cup to his lips and doing her best to keep from over-tilting it and spilling.

“Thank you,” he says, after. “Is it too early to know if I can eat?”

“I don’t want to risk anything heavy,” she says. “I can make a ground meal from some of the plants, though, or a broth if I catch something.”

“Sounds good,” Skywalker mutters.

Luminara looks at him for a few moments, judging, and nods. “You should sleep, I think. I’ll see what I can do about food.”

He doesn’t argue this. He simply closes his eyes and rests.

(Continue on AO3)

[nyerus]

Crimson Rain Sought Flower – Hua Cheng

This is a meta that’s been in the works a while now, and yesterday I posted it to Twitter for Hua Cheng’s birthday! It’s June 10th in my timezone now, so here it is reformatted, tweaked, and with a few additions for Tumblr.

This is quite the long thread, so grab some snacks! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

Hua Cheng and Morality

First, we need to understand Hua Cheng’s origin. He is a reject of society. He was cast aside by the world, and thus in return, holds zero esteem for it. He couldn't care less what happens to the world, apart from the one person left in it who treated him with compassion and humanity. However, Hua Cheng is not ever intentionally cruel. He is not a cruel person, yet he's also not a particularly nice person. He's neutral. He has known severe poverty, and has suffered at the hands of hypocrisy and injustice—so he hates these things too.

That is why he’s sincere in his actions (even if they are not always “good”), and a man of his word. That is why he rules Ghost City with an iron fist, yet is fair. He does not abuse his power, and is always clear about terms in an agreement, but is not very forgiving. If you cross him, or try to swindle him, you will be put in your place. Pray to him with less-than-honest goals, and he will ignore you. Or if he's in the mood, ruin your life to teach you a lesson. Wrong his beloved, and there will be hell to pay—full stop.

Meanwhile, he will protect innocent humans trapped in Tonglu, not only because that's what his God would have done, but because those people are helpless. Hua Cheng knows helplessness. Especially to use them for his own gain is a hypocrisy he cannot accept for himself. And then, he will build a city for other ghosts (serves also to keep them in line), so that they won't be taken advantage of like he was as a small ghost fire. He will give shelter to a ghost who got revenge on her rapist, and even for animal spirits who seek their vengeance.

These can be seen as benevolent acts, yet it's more accurate to say that Hua Cheng's hatred of bullies and the abuse of those who are vulnerable is the basis for whatever moral code he has. It's an eye-for-an-eye (sorry) ideology. Rather than kindness or righteousness, it's about balance.

[CONTINUED UNDER CUT DUE TO LENGTH.]

(This is part of why he so hates Heavenly Officials, as he knows many of them were abusing their position and powers for personal gain. They parade as paragons of virtue, while many of them are sycophants or outright corrupt. And worst of all, they bullied Xie Lian.)

Interestingly, Hua Cheng is actually more lenient with people who make no ploy at being virtuous or such. He minds his business for the most part, unless he sees blatant abuses of power. Even then, his intervention is not guaranteed, depending on the situation. Frankly, Hua Cheng seems more likely to step in when a) there are people who are vulnerable or disadvantaged, and b) when he is pissed off enough about the situation. People who are either rich/powerful/have the means can, generally, help themselves.

After all Hua Cheng is a Ghost King, in part because of the freedom it gives him to do as he pleases. This means he can decide whether or not to care about someone or something, without any ambiguity in terms of his responsibility. (Which is the opposite for Gods.)

Importantly, if Hua Cheng had to choose between anyone—including innocent people—and Xie Lian, he is without a doubt going to choose Xie Lian. Zero hesitation, period. Again, this is the crux of his character and he makes no ploy in pretending to care about others, especially those he does not know.

This may be off-putting to some, as “shouldn’t he be a good person?” But Hua Cheng himself makes no such claim, and considers himself as neither good nor bad. He is exactly what he wants to be in that aspect, nothing more, nothing less. That’s part of what makes him a fascinating love interest.

Hua Cheng’s Relationships

Despite Xie Lian being the first in his mind, and despite being quite comfortable in his solitude, there are other people Hua Cheng holds in high regard—or is at least on good(-ish) terms with.

He greatly respects people like Yushi Huang and Mei Nianqing, especially since they were good to Xie Lian, and this is reflected in his interactions with them. Yushi Huang specifically helped Xie Lian when no one else would, and is also an honest god who takes care of her people—and Hua Cheng very much respects this. Meanwhile, Hua Cheng quickly identifies Mei Nianqing as that father figure of Xie Lian’s he wants to impress!

He Xuan earns Hua Cheng’s respect as a fellow ghost king, though their relationship is fairly transactional. He’ll provide funds in return for information, but doesn’t seem to really like his modus operandi. As far as Hua Cheng is concerned with He Xuan’s plans: not his circus, not his monkeys—until and unless Xie Lian is involved.

Yin Yu is someone Hua Cheng trusts and values as an employee, and takes responsibility for in that capacity, while understanding Yin Yu’s past (which is similar to Xie Lian’s). In return, Yin Yu has a place to belong without fear of judgement, and can put his own talents to use where they will be—at the least—fairly compensated.

(A deeper look into all 3 relationships + others will come eventually.)

All that being said, there is a very clear difference between how Hua Cheng treats everyone else—including those he very much respects—and Xie Lian. When it comes to Xie Lian, Hua Cheng is overwhelmingly devoted and amicable. Xie Lian is the only person he is truly concerned about wholeheartedly, and wants to keep safe/happy/ loved. Even if he would help other people, it doesn't go nearly as far as this. And again, if he had to choose between them, there is no question about it.

Hua Cheng's "true self" is both the cold and aloof ghost king, and the mischievous and sweet San Lang. The latter just happens to be a side of him that he is only willing to show to Xie Lian—who knows this and loves all sides of him equally. No one else, even people he respects, will ever get to see that San Lang.

Hua Cheng’s Goals

Before we dive much deeper into Hua Cheng’s relationship with Xie Lian, let’s briefly circle back to Hua Cheng’s regrets and view of power, much of which stem from his early life. It’s something that is like the foundation of his current views, goals, and personality.

Hua Cheng’s biggest regret in life was being powerless to help Xie Lian when Xie Lian needed him. His goal as a ghost is to never be in that position again, and thus he amassed unimaginable wealth and power. At the same time, he is not actually very attached to any of his material possessions. (Except E’ming of course.) It’s all a means to an end: to not only have the power to help and protect Xie Lian, but to provide for him. Hua Cheng gets the most satisfaction when he’s able to fulfil these primal needs of his, which he never got to before.

We see this crop up sometimes, such as him being eager to have Xie Lian stay in Paradise Manor for a while, gifting him an armory of priceless weapons, etc. And then of course, his frustration whenever he’s put in a position where he can’t protect Xie Lian (e.g. when he gets kid’ified in book 3, though he makes the best of it by accepting the free cuddles).

At the same time, Hua Cheng is cognizant of not making Xie Lian feel uncomfortable, and is careful of never intruding on Xie Lian’s agency. All of Hua Cheng’s wealth and power is meant to be used as needed by Xie Lian, as the strongest weapon Xie Lian could ever have. Never to undermine him.

Hua Cheng also knows Xie Lian is not the type of person to use someone like that. “If I could, I would have you use me as your stepping stone, the bride you burn after crossing […] But I know you wouldn’t allow it.” (ch. 240.) So instead, Hua Cheng ensures that he is Xie Lian’s greatest ally, no matter the cause. He does not expect anything in return, and daren’t ask for it.

Hua Cheng’s Respect, Devotion, and Love for Xie Lian

Changing gears: this is where we start looking at Hua Cheng in terms of his love for Xie Lian. We can’t talk about Hua Cheng without going into it. After all, that’s what makes him, *him.*

Hua Cheng at times can seem quite passive because to the reader, as he is so willing to go along with whatever Xie Lian decides. At first glance, this seems quite odd for a character who is otherwise so free-spirited, but it’s very in line with Hua Cheng’s choice to unequivocally support Xie Lian.

"If your dream is saving the common people, then my dream is only you." This is overlooked in importance. Hua Cheng understands that Xie Lian will do right by the people—but he really couldn't care less about them. Instead, he will be the one to look out for Xie Lian. If Xie Lian has prioritized helping the common people over his own well-being, Hua Cheng is ready and willing to be the one to prioritize Xie Lian in return. Given that Xie Lian is self-sacrificing in service to his principles, Hua Cheng's motivations make sense. Someone has to look out for Xie Lian, and that someone is him.

He is not interested in opposing Xie Lian, even if he disagrees with what Xie Lian chooses. He will even give his honest opinion, e.g. when he tells Xie Lian to not get involved with the Shi Brothers and Black Water. But when Xie Lian decides to anyway, Hua Cheng already predicted as much, and simply accompanies.

The main exception to this is when Xie Lian tries to solve problems with self-harm, which Hua Cheng will always try to mitigate, because he can’t watch the one he loves intentionally hurt themselves even if it’s “for the greater good.” Not to mention, Xie Lian’s concept of pain is… not so good….

Ultimately, Hua Cheng isn't there to make Xie Lian's choices for him, since he sincerely respects Xie Lian's own decisions. He is merely there to ensure that regardless of what Xie Lian decides, he will offer unconditional support. He especially has no interest in morally policing Xie Lian.

As an aside, Xie Lian also has no interest in morally policing Hua Cheng. He may not always agree with Hua Cheng's methods or reasoning (e.g. the Gambling Den), but he doesn't try to be an expert on things he doesn't understand, and respects Hua Cheng enough to trust him with his own affairs.

All of this is to say, this doesn’t make Hua Cheng a pushover or anything. Hua Cheng is incredibly strong-willed, and actually listens to no one but himself. It's simply that he's decided that his God comes first. He is an entirely devout believer. He made that decision with every fiber of his being, and it's why he is a supreme Ghost King at all. Anything less would not be enough. It's understandably difficult for most people to relate to this aspect or understand it because it's basically impossible in the real world.

So, it's not that he doesn't have anything else, but rather, he does not want anything else. He is the embodiment of pure devotion with no strings attached. It's actually not something meant to be relatable (which is not to say that he doesn't have many relatable qualities).

This is what makes him so compelling as a character: the fact that he's a fable, a darkly beautiful idea taken to the extreme. This is the unmatchable, celestial being aspect of his character, and it goes incredibly well with the sheer humaneness of his narrative. Because... funny thing is, Hua Cheng is completely aware of his zealotry. It's the source of his power—that which his entire existence is built upon—but it's also one of his greatest insecurities. He doesn't care if everyone knows he worships Xie Lian, would want them to, and would even be very proud of it.

However, the intensity of his beliefs, specifically coupled with his romantic feelings, makes him afraid to be found out by Xie Lian. Hua Cheng cannot separate his devotion from his love and desire for Xie Lian, because the reasons for both are the same. And yet he feels shame for daring to yearn.

By the time he is introduced in the story, Hua Cheng is mostly "complete," though he doesn't get a traditional character arc by virtue of not being the main character. It is Xie Lian's story, after all. But like Xie Lian, he's missing something crucial that he doesn't get until the events of the story unfold.

There's a bit of cognitive dissonance for him. Part of him knows just how hard he worked to get where he is, crawling through the mud to end up as a supreme, rich and powerful in a way most will never know; completely self-assured he's the best suited to be by Xie Lian's side. Another part of him is still that child, covered in mud and nothing but useless trash. The scars from his cold childhood will never fully heal, nor will he ever be able to forget them, try as he might.

He is trapped between knowing he's the best, and thinking trash such as himself doesn't dare wish for something as precious as His Highness' love. Even for all his flirting, there's still a part of him choked by fear.

But Hua Cheng does finally get what he's been missing, and it's not Xie Lian as a prize for his hard work. Rather, it's the realization that he is loved in return. It's him *allowing* himself to be loved, and to want. Ultimately, Xie Lian and Hua Cheng actually wished for the same thing after all: Not being loved in spite of their flaws, but that love encompassing them as a whole—as flawed people. "What matters is you and not the state of you." It is free of all burden, utterly crystal-clear in its manifestation.

There is some sentiment that Hua Cheng has Xie Lian on a pedestal—but this is rather untrue. Because a pedestal implies two things: 1.) Dehumanization of the person 2.) Should they falter, they will fall off

Other people did in fact have Xie Lian on a pedestal, and when he fell off, had difficulty reconciling the image of godly perfection that they believed of him, and his fallible human self. The exaggeration of someone’s goodness is not maintainable by either party.

Hua Cheng never holds Xie Lian to any such standards, thereby eliminating the possibility of Xie Lian not meeting them. Once again, it's not "he can do no wrong" (like what many others did believe, and thus come in the impossible standards). Instead, it's "there is no right or wrong involved, there is only him."

It's not Xie Lian who is infallible, it's that Hua Cheng's love for him is infallible.

He doesn't care if Xie Lian makes a mistake, because he understands that Xie Lian can and will by nature of being human—but he will love Xie Lian through them, regardless.

As said in the beginning of this thread, Hua Cheng is not a hero. As far as he is concerned, he does not care for either heroics or villany. And he is not about helping Xie Lian to grow/change/become better/etc. To him, whatever Xie Lian is, was, and will be... is perfection defined. He loves with 100% of his being. This is incredibly powerful.

Hua Cheng as a Concept

Of course, in real life, we must be aware of our fallibility and help each other learn, hold each other accountable, etc. Hua Cheng’s level of devotion and complete selflessness to Xie Lian is not really something to “strive” for in real life. But I’m sure no one is under any other impression anyway. It's not possible in the real world, but that's the whole appeal! The sheer fantastical element to how far and how deep a person's devotion could go, removed from the constraints of reality, and what that would mean. That's why Hua Cheng is such a fun and interesting character to think and talk about. He is a character who is beyond the reach of reality, while still rooted in it.

Interestingly, I believe this is also why he tends to also be a somewhat polarizing character, too.

TGCF is filled with characters like this. Xie Lian, He Xuan, even Shi Wudu are extremely similar to Hua Cheng, just different in the fable they embody. (And actually the Black Water arc is a mirror to the overall themes of the story.) There is a reason the novel starts and ends like folklore.