#some of these are odd out of context i realise

[very-uncorrect]

Gonna start talking about my original stories through AITA posts in the characters' povs

Some e.g.s:

- AITA for half blinding and causing permanent physical scarring to a young child due to accidentally spilling a deadly acid all over their face (it was for science)

- AITA for murdering any rude customers in my shop (I worked in retail for 8 years)

- WIBTA if I decided to destroy all of humanity because I think they're assholes (I'm a fascist alien dictator)

- AITA for keeping my cat café open when people are dying from hanahaki in the streets (my workers get good pay I promise)

- AITA for abandoning my childhood friend because I wanted eldritch alien dick

- WIBTA if I stopped trying to escape the time loop me and this other girl have been stuck in for months because I want to learn how to code and make crème brulé (she REALLY wants to get out but I also hate her so-)

- AITA for hiring a hitman to kill anyone who is better at making pancakes than me

[thedissociatives]

was using my phone to hold my notebook open but. obviously i decided i needed to use it so had to grab the first thing close to me heavy enough to do the job which turned out to be my capo

[blueepink07]

My interpretation of Diana's character

(spoilers for chapter 1 and fte!!)

I find it interesting how many people believed that Diana is the mastermind, when the prologue released, and still believe that she is hiding something, especially since we see the events from Damon's perspective. And for me it's really odd, because I feel like Diana doesn't act with other ill-mannered intentions in mind, but out of consideration for others. So much so that I think that she has become a people pleaser. 

Starting with her animal motif, the chameleon, everyone knows it for its ability to change its appearance as a form of protection, in order to survive. Many people tied the chameleon with her ultimate talent, because as the ultimate cosmetologist she can change others and her appearance with make-up. But I think it goes further than this. Her personality is rather unpredictable. Of course, she is usually bubbly, and very talkative, however, it seems she cares a lot about what others think of her. 

At the end of chapter 1, after the trial, the conversation she has with Eva, highlights some interesting details about her character as a whole. She wanted to make both Wolfgang and Eva happy. However, these two had contrasting beliefs, two sides of the same coin. She was forced to choose between two different points of views… But she wasn't able to. So she tried to support both of them, the best she could.

In the end, this choice led Eva to not trust Diana's kindness at all, because she knew Diana was never fully on her side. She would still agree to what Wolfgang said, which implied going against her. What comes next is more concerning, however. And I’m not talking about the fact that Diana might become the antagonist in the future chapter, but strictly about what it will become of her character. To throw away your sense of self so easily and to state that you will live to fulfill somebody else's wish, that she will change to become more like Wolfgang and continue on his footsteps…

And then, I've completed her two fte's and realised that her decision to continue Wolfgang's legacy makes sense. Damon, in the second fte, asks her why she never told anything about herself, but insisted for him to open up more. From Damon's perspective, of course he finds her behavior suspicious, because considering the context and the fact that they are in a killing game, Diana is at advantage, not sharing information about herself.

So I've decided to look again at Diana's first fte and this part was truly interesting. 

She asks if Damon wants her to become his follower. The report card summarizes the conversation by stating that Diana asked Damon what he wanted her to be.

Considering all these aspects, I have reached the conclusion that Diana doesn't really have a "sense of self". She is always seen changing the way she behaves in order to please the person she has a conversation with or is seen asking how she can improve in order to meet the expectations. The reason why she even went to the boiler room was also because she didn't want to disappoint Wolfgang. Diana's always thinking about how others perceive her, so much so that, with time, it seems she has lost her sense of self.

That’s why, the moment when Damon wants Diana to talk about herself, she is restless. Diana has no idea what to say. The only thing we learn about her is the fact that her family is nice and supportive and she never had to worry about money. But she didn't continue on with the conversation, because she felt like she was bragging.

Moreover, she always seems to see the good in people, but is harsher on herself.

Despite Eva being the culprit, Diana considers that it is solely her fault for not saving both her and Wolfgang. Even after the way Eva treated her, she can't see her as a bad person. Diana acknowledges that nothing will ever be the same, but is still standing strong, wishing that her actions will give hope to others. She hasn't just  covered the wound that she received from Wolfgang, but, indirectly, also her trauma and her negative thoughts about herself by stating that she will change, in order for others to not suffer anymore. 

Maybe I'm just biased, but I can't see Diana having any bad intentions. She is just a 17 year old, who experienced something very traumatic, and is trying her best to help the people around her by putting her own needs aside, changing the way she behaves so the others can feel comfortable around her. 

[mercutio-the-velaryon]

Okay, the Twitter takes are pissing me awfff, so let's get this straight and then never talk about it again.

The conversation between Mel and Jayce in the council room definitely should have taken place at some point. I think it was better suited to have happened at an earlier point, like episode one. However, the conversation itself fell very flat, and its contents failed to properly reflect the issue with Mel and Jayce's relationship dynamic.

In the confrontation Jay asks, with a very fragmented mind, whether she only protected her and Jayce on purpose, she says no, he says I can't believe that because of you using victor and me for hextech and calling us investments.

This accusation doesn't really make any sense, because although her actions and methods were unethical making a business investment out of hextech does not align with the extremities of purposefully not protecting the other in the council room.

Let me be clear, it is blatantly obvious that Jayce only makes this accusation because he has been through the mental and physical ringer. That is part of the reason why I think this conversation should've happened earlier so the real issues could've been addressed. Because now within context, his almost valid criticism is treated as lashing out, and it has to be swept under the rug because we got war the next episode.

Now for a breakdown:

Mel and Jayce's relationship was imbalanced from its inception. He had piqued her political interest from the moment he stood before the council for his unlawful science experiments. She was interested in Hextech from the jump but didn't make it known until she knew it was a beneficial venture. But that wasn't a problem that was the fall of the first domino.

Throughout their relationship, Mel is always one or two steps ahead of Jayce. She leads and guides him to make decisions that she deems necessary to attain the power and influence required to improve Piltover. I believe that she wants Jayce to fully realise his dream of helping the masses, due to her being an empath, she takes on his wants and desires which results in his success mattering more and more to her as the story progresses.

So, she is well intentioned but inconsiderate of the fact that Jayce rarely wants to be where she encourages him to go he just has an unshakeable sense of responsibility. She orchestrates behind the scenes for his benefit, springs investors on him, and advocates for his place on the council, all without any discussion or proper dialogue with he who it does concern. It's kind of funny that she's very considerate of him, but she doesn't consult him on anything. She's already made up her mind when they speak; she goes to convince not to discuss.

Let me very quickly assert that I don't think what Mel does obstructs his autonomy or his own free will, she offers and he accepts and he always has the option not to but he rarely does mainly because I think he's a people pleaser and he also holds Mel in high regard.

Let us also remember that he is an educated man from a House in Piltover with a sponser from the council he is a man of privilege his social status is his largest obstacle to realising his dream because he isn't even versed in the complex issues of the people he's trying to help.

Considering all of this, the conversation in the council room followed by Jayce's non-apology and their subsequent break-up scene that was more a viscerally implied break up than explicity stated (which I think was an odd choice because they'd known each other for years and they just kind of fizzle out) are an ill match to what actually transpired between them.

There was such an amazing opportunity for them to have a compelling dialogue about their relationship imbalance. If it had been more two-sided, we could have had Jayce bring up being used as a political pawn but also bearing the weight of his own choices, and Mel being emotionally closed off and unreachable.

It should have played out like a tennis match until both of them lost. Then, for the break up, if thats what it was, they were still characters who meant a lot to each other and deserved a just goodbye, featuring a little hand holding and Mel pulls away first and then they walk away from each other.

In general, Mel, as a character, endured a lot with little to no triumph or compensation. For example, the next time we see Mel after that she's trying to talk her mother down speaks "out of turn" and ends up getting bitch slapped by her I mean...

And you can argue that becoming the wolf was triumphant. I would say that it was a very bittersweet moment with an emphasis on bitter because that felt like the passing on of a generational curse.

You could also argue that Jayce had endured a lot by that point. Well... yes! He did, and he didn't seek comfort in her. He couldn't. He wasn't asking for it like she was. He also got to die in the arms of the person he loved, man got glorious closure, no notes.

I think the scene with Jayce also revealed how isolated Mel is as a character. In the sense that she feels so separated from the main narrative, like if you culled her entire storyline, it wouldn't change much. She also has no other established relationships of depth among the protagonists, no dynamic with anyone, her final battle is her and Cait teaming up, and they don't really mean anything to each other. Which sounds irrelevant until you consider how inextricably linked everyone else is.

And yes, they were both somewhat Ambessa's heirs in some capacity more figuratively for Cait, but it fell just fell short emotionally especially in contrast to Ekko and Jinx and Jinx and Vi and even Ekko and Jayvik because they're the science buffs and the kid straight out of Zaun with no formal education shattered time. Ugh, now that's a Triumph!

[deathbxnny]

Hiya! Can I request Lynette, Kaeya, and Ayaka with a sibling!reader who sleep talks in their sleep?

I was inspired by my sibling who sleep talks the most random stuff in their sleep. We both shared a room together when we were younger, so I had heard some of the stuff they say. While my sibling never said if i myself sleep talk but apparently my assigned roommate yesterday told me they possibly? heard me sleep talk.. I wonder if it's genetic?

context:

Write however you want but please make what reader say either funny ("seelies taste like mist flower core") or heartwarming ("I'm so glad we're siblings -insert chosen character-")

Hope you have a lovely day/night!

-Flower Anon 🌸

Genshin characters with a sibling that talks in their sleep. | Kaeya, Ayaka, Lynette x Gn!Reader

Hello Flower Anon!! Thank you for your great request, I had a lot of fun writing this!<33

Content: Sibling reader, platonic relationships, unserious, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

》KAEYA

Said man was used to your rather odd sleeping habits since you were children in the dawn winery. Sleep talking was the norm for you, and whilst it usually was only a couple of words, it was still hilarious every time. This time, however, you actually spoke in whole sentences in your sleep during a sleepover at his humble home.

"... I want to eat snow so I can grow taller..." You whispered in the dead of night whilst he was busy completing the last of his paperwork. His head tilted to you in confusion, your back turned to him as you spoke. Were you asleep? He was unsure. "Hm? Why's that?" "Milk... makes you taller... and snow is white... so it's milk." Ah, you were definitely asleep. And quite responsive at that! Snorting, he put down his pen and crossed his arms, body leaning back in absolute amusement. "Oh? I didn't know that." "Many don't... no one can know this secret..." "I see, who told you about it though?" "... The snowmen. They are watching."

Kaeya raised a brow at the ominous message yet it took everything in him not to burst into laughter. You certainly wouldn't remember saying any of that in the morning... but he would for sure.

》Lynette

"If I drank all the sea water in Fountaine, would the fish float in place?" Silence overtook the bedroom you shared with your sister, who was very much unamused. She just wanted to sleep, and yet, your mind didn't let her even in your sleep. Deciding to ignore you, she pulled the blankets over her head and prayed you'd stop soon. But alas, you still had a lot more to share. "I think they will, because they can actually fly and are lying to us..." More silence, and the girl had to realise that you were in a better mood than usual. It wasn't abnormal for you to talk in your sleep but this was getting ridiculous!

Taking a deep breath, she lowered her blankets and gave your sleeping form an unimpressed glance. "Stay quiet and go to sleep properly." She muttered, but you clearly didn't seem to hate her properly in your dreams. "And you know what...? If the fish can fly... then Freminet can probably fly, too... oh my god, he can-" You were shaken from your deep sleep by a door slamming shut, as your sister fast walked down to another room with her blankets in hand.

You had the nerve to ask her why she left in the morning, clearly not remembering what happened, but she simply ignored you as a response with a tired huff.

》AYAKA

The one time you and Ayaka were sleeping in the same room, it definitely took her by surprise to see you sleep talking. It was certainly not common in the family. But what worried her the most were your ominous words. "What-" "-The birds... are walking towards us." You hummed into the darkness of the room, making your sister sit up in confusion. Had she accidentally left the door to the outside open? No way... she would've noticed the strong wind seeping in. She couldn't make out your form in the dimness of the room and therefore assumed that you were awake at first. "Uhm... where are they?" "They are on my head now, all three of them... and they can sing... but they are also red, so they shouldn't be able to."

Blinking, Ayaka slowly turned to your form next to her and out a hand on your shoulder carefully. Leaning forward, she could only barely see your closed eyes, which confirmed that you were indeed sleeping. Ah, so that was it... you were somehow sleep talking? "Oh... well, tell them you have to sleep." "Okay..." With a small hiccup, you relaxed back into a deep sleep, and the silence was deafening.

She definitely brought it up to an awfully amused Ayato the next morning, who reassured that this was normal for you. Expect to be teased about it, too.

[lemonhemlock]

I think a thing that bothers me the most is how fragmented TG (the fandom) is now. After season one, many of us had issues with character writing, but it still felt like we were largely on the same page. Now, some people can accept Aegon got bad writing but not Aemond, Alicent, or Helaena. They are all “good” or “bad”characters depending on how much they hurt Aegon this season. I’m so glad he got the time to be well rounded, and that TGC delivered on all his scenes, but I think people forget Aegon has received some poor writing as well even this season. His whole outburst about Jaehaerys’s death is not about his son, but the impact on his legacy- I thought this very odd at the time, but realize it’s because they can’t have him mourn Jaehaerys for a long time either. Nobody on TG is allowed to focus on this dead child, least of all his mother! Aegon goes out drinking with his friends next episode 😭 seemingly unconcerned. But somehow only Alicent and Aemond are called out for this, when it is a clear problem that Daemon is more affected by this loss than the greens. It feels like such an uphill battle to even discuss the faction and family anymore.

This is such a good point!

I know I am so contrarian about this rn, but I have had some issues in connecting with Aegon's grief scenes over Jaehaerys this season. And it's such an opinion I DON'T want to have, bc I'm fully on the Aegon/TGC bandwagon and I do think TGC is a competent actor.

But it's something about the general clownery of the framing, how everything is gloomy and dark but at the same time no one gives that much of a shit over Jaehaerys? It's very weird to describe. I know Olivia also shows Alicent crying and swallowing sobs and trying to conceal her grief, but, if you think about it, Alicent is just Kind Of Like That in a lot of her scenes anyway. Big doe wet eyes, filled with regret and unspoken emotions etc so that her acting similarly after B&C kind of doesn't hit as much?

And, in that context, having Aegon rage over this event is rendered kind of.....hammy and, honestly, comical. I'm reminded of the scene of the small council where everyone is somber and quiet and he kind of looks like he's pretending to cry. In other moments it's fine but there are frames where I can't take it seriously and it registers in my brain like a parody.

I realise how I sound right now, like I'm not satisfied with the subdued performances, but I'm not satisfied with the expansive ones either. IDK. I have a huge problem with the framing and direction this season, I think it's a huge impediment in making me enjoy the supposedly emotional scenes.

All of this to say that I agree, Aegon has also received some bad writing this season, especially him ALSO being kind of over Jaehaerys the next episode. But people tend to overlook it, because when you draw the line, the writing for him is still so much better than what he got in S1.

And, yes, this is why I can't really join the choir in blaming Alicent and Aemond for how they act with him, because it's not a naturalistic and organic progression, it's shoehorned in with little buildup or motivation and not even drawn to its natural conclusion. For example, Aemond should have been toast the minute Aegon woke up, because Prince Regent or not, Aegon is still the King and has the power to remove Aemond if he fears him. He doesn't have to justify himself in front of anyone, just give the order to arrest his brother and name someone else as regent, then just go back to sleep.

[just-ornstein]

WHAT THE FUCK IS THE BEAKER CASTLE EVEN - A SimPE Deep Dive

Alright, so after stumbling upon some of the Beta pics on the Russian TheSims.cc site and this analysis post about the Beaker mansion, I became deeply curious if some of this would be reflected in the lot relationships. After all, some characters like Viola, Kelly, on top of several others could be found when digging through the raw and somewhat encrypted code of lots.

By now it's pretty clear that the Beaker home once belonged to this dude and his army of girlfriends (definitely check out the post I mentioned earlier). On top of that Loki (and possibly Circe) seems to have gone through at least two iterations before eventually settling on their final forms.

And on top of that whenever you scan the mansion in a completely new game, you will find fingerprints of primarily deceased Sims everywhere!

Now to get to the Sim relationships on the lot...

712 freaking Sim Relationships, all of which are unknown. Some of which still have stats set such as married, friends, relationship scores, etc. I tried comparing this to other lots in their neighborhood and NONE even come close. Both Olive and the Smiths have around 400. The other lots have below. And the only lots that are even a tad higher in this number are the Capps and the Summerdreams which makes sense when you realise that hood went through at least one other iteration before turning into Veronaville.

Now I wondered if the encrypted code (despite being very hard to read due to being partially encrypted) had any old Sim remnants left in there. And yep, several even. Many of which even have information such as their gender, hair, clothes and age in there. So lemme go over some of them:

1. First one, a guy who's name is partially encrypted so it will never fully be visible. It's not Johnny cause Johnny also has his character file on this lot.

A male teen with brown hair who used to wear the "tmbodyhoodedsweatshirtboardshorts" + the "tmhairhatcap" hairstyle.

2. Second is another teen, this time by the name of Zeeshan. He had black hair, the bucket hat hairstyle and wore the hooded sweatshirt, except with pants this time around (and grey apparently?).

3. The third was an adult male Sim by the name of Kenneth with black hair. Based on his info he was likely meant to be a Gardener Sim.

4. The fourth was one named Kana... Possibly a longer name cause once again the code becomes a bit shambled here. She too was meant to be a Gardener as seen by her outfit and hair data. Her hair would have been brown.

5. Elle, another female Gardener Sim, this one having red hair.

6. Vasyl, an adult male Sim who wore the busdriver outfit. Sadly his hair data seems to be blocked behind the code. For funsies I like to give the name to Bald Beta Loki, since he gives off that vibe. BUT, I think this was an NPC busdriver due to the outfit.

7. Joanne, an adult female Sim with an unknown hair colour in corn rows style and the classy afbodyjacketturtlesweaterdressboots. Sadly her ID is hidden behind the encrypted code, so it's hard to fully make out.

All of these Sims appear to be NPC/Townie Sims. None of them match ANYONE in the Beta pictures. And the current Townies/NPCs seem to have replaced them. Interestingly enough, those that were NPCs are still NPCs and those that were Townies are still Townies. Making me wonder if this is a thing that translates to other Sim IDs too. That Sims that were Townies in earlier iterations are still Townies in their new form. Same for NPCs and yep, Playables. This is merely an assumption I'm making on what I'm finding here, but if anyone can help research this further, that would be greatly appreciated, especially as this could mean the Viola ID may not belong to Viola Monty.

Viola is an odd case cause no outfit, hair or other data can be found in the lot file and she's only ever mentioned once in the context of lines filled with "sleep in pyjamas". But for now I cannot say anything with certainty unless more remnants of these old Sims could be found somewhere. OR, if these files could be read in its entirety which is quite difficult.

It's very hard to get a Sim ID attached to a lot (believe me I tried) and often times seems to rather happen accidentally than intentionally. Moving a Sim out or having a Sim die usually removes the data they once held to that lot. Good example is Loki in my current Strangetown who lived on this lot all of his life and when he died he had no remnants left on this lot.

REGARDLESS! The Beaker lot is ancient and seems to have been ground for a ton of testing, Sims and many more things. No wonder the Beakers got this home with its incredibly shady history. Half of the beta town was partying here!

[saintsenara]

from a narrative perspective i definitely see why the order can’t understand what harry understands about voldemort targeting kids still at school, but how does that work from a watsonian angle? like do you think it’s as simple as the order members just not taking kids seriously (fitting the general genre convention), or that the kids who were being recruited by death eaters in the first war were successfully subtle about it that no one realised? i’m always down to suspend my disbelief for the sake of the narrative but it feels so unrealistic that, at the very least, the order members who were at school during the build up to the first war wouldn’t have recognised (even after the fact) that some of their classmates had been recruited, and thus that it could happen again. i mean they know that voldemort’s operating out of malfoy manor, so how would it seem inconceivable to them that draco, who lives there, might be expected to act on voldemort’s behalf, even if he wasn’t marked? the kids staying with the order were all begging to join the order despite being in school, what do you think would make them picture the other side being so different?

[the context for this post]

the explanation - once again - is that the order is an unradical, pro-state organisation, rather than a proper guerrilla group.

that is to say, the order is focused on the wars as political conflicts, and never moves beyond seeing voldemort as primarily as a political threat.

nobody in the order ever really understands the mystical aspects of voldemort's warfare - the prophecy and the hallows and the horcruxes. this is a massive rift between the trio and the adult characters who are order members - none of whom, including sirius, ever really grasp just how odd and supernatural harry's relationship with voldemort is.

this more mystical tone is quite clear in both order of the phoenix and deathly hallows.

goblet of fire and half-blood prince, in contrast, present the first war as a political conflict, and the second war as shaping up very similarly.

voldemort targets the state and its institutions - he seems to have enormous numbers of ministry infiltrators; his recruitment of the dementors is about weakening the wizarding penal system; his targeting of hogwarts is about controlling the state education system; lucius malfoy spends order of the phoenix clearly pushing fudge's anti-dumbledore press agenda, and so on.

even his targeting of muggles is connected to his aims against the wizarding state: it keeps the ministry scrambling, makes the statute of secrecy harder to enforce, stops the muggle government being willing to communicate with the wizarding one, and provides voldemort with cover to expand his violence by making it look like natural disasters or terrorism etc. in the muggle world.

[if the prime minister had been assassinated in 1996, he'd only have had to send out whichever death eater could do the best belfast accent to talk to the muggle press and the heat would be off him...]

the first war seems to have progressed in much the same way. based on what sirius tells us in order of the phoenix voldemort's violence must escalate in 1978-79 - since, as he says, his parents didn't get cold feet about voldemort and what he was willing to do to get power until after regulus joined up.

from this we can conclude that voldemort spends the first period of the war primarily attacking state targets. this doesn't mean his violence was less significant, but it does mean that the public would be able to rationalise it as people - aurors, civil servants, etc - facing the risks of their jobs, and view any wizarding civilians who died as collateral.

[and not give a shit about muggles, because - well - that's how wizards are...]

we can then assume that after this point, he moves towards attacking civilians indiscriminately. which makes it impossible for soft supporters like orion and walburga to delude themselves that they'll be safe because they're not connected to the ministry.

while many of the death eaters who are important characters in canon have no significant institutional roles, it's clear that these death eaters weren't the ones the ministry was the most interested in catching during the first war. for instance, by far the biggest scalp of the first war - or so canon implies - was augustus rookwood, voldemort's source of state secrets and one of the only death eaters who seems to have been sent to azkaban for life on non-violent charges.

and so the reason the order doesn't think it's plausible that voldemort is using teenage recruits is because they think he's only concerned with people who have access to the state. and teens don't.

[we see something similar when it comes to bellatrix. obviously we, as readers, know that she's voldemort's favourite death eater and has been since the first war because she literally tells us so. but there's no evidence that in the 1970s anyone in the ministry even suspected that she was a death eater, which is how she - and rodolphus, rabastan, and bcj - weren't investigated in the immediate aftermath of voldemort's fall, leaving them free to attack the longbottoms once - as dumbledore puts it - people thought they were safe.]

obviously, barty crouch jr. is an exception, because he was undoubtedly recruited by voldemort to inform on his father. but - as sirius tells us - regulus wasn't someone voldemort would have considered important, with the clear implication being that this is because he had no access to the state targets [and the information which could be gleaned from them] that the order understands voldemort as valuing above all else. regulus is just painted as a fanboy in the order's eyes - someone who's very keen to suck up to voldemort, and someone who voldemort might use as cannon fodder, but who voldemort doesn't see as someone who's actually useful.

and the same thing happens with draco. in half-blood prince, lucius malfoy is in azkaban, the family are clearly under some sort of ministry surveillance, and their earlier privileged position at the heart of the minister's machinations has vanished. the order's view is - therefore - clearly that draco has become less important in voldemort's eyes than would have been the case if lucius was still free and had access to the minister. this is the only version of voldemort's warfare they understand.

harry - in contrast - is the person who gets that voldemort is nowhere near as interested in the state as the order thinks.

[kookygranger]

Spirit in the Sky

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, fem!reader, no upside down/no hawkins au, ghostrider!steve, mention of murder (no main characters), what IRL would be considered stalking for sure but is a direct reference to that The Bikeriders scene lol

Word count: 2.7k

Author's note: I had recently read an interesting article on lucid dreaming when I started writing this so @bettyfrommars' nightmare!steve kinda pops up in this one. Also, this is only loosely based on the idea of Ghost Rider and does not follow all the MCU superpower rules, etc. – I read up on old Johnny Blaze and thought nah this doesn't work, I'm gonna make it up.

Also also, I kind of hate this but really just don't care anymore x

Series Masterlist

Chapter Three

You dreamt of him. Once you’d finally fallen into a restless sleep.

Each time you were pulled back under, he’d appear.

You wanted to be mad. At one point, when you spotted the clock on the diner wall and realised it was unreadable, realised you were in fact in dream standard time, you tried to take hold of the situation. With your back against the brick wall again and Steve tracing the line of your jaw, you warned him.

“Get out of my dreams.”

And he’d given you a sad smile, his eyes crackling like melted sugar as they watched your lips.

“I can’t do that.”

You’d jolted awake when he leant in.

And over again, each time he got too close to you in every dream he appeared, and you found your dream self betraying you. Always ending up in his arms or stuck between a dark corner and the heat of his body. Finally coming to your senses when you heard the distant rumble of his bike and decided to run, barefoot through streets that seemed to go on endlessly, never getting any further than where you began. You were hit by something that time, a dark mass that came out of nowhere, sweat making your pyjamas stick to your skin when you woke with another jolt. Sighing as you rolled over and read the numbers on your alarm clock clear as the daylight finally breaking.

You turn the hot water to borderline scalding when you step into the shower. Plagued by visions of that smile, those hands, and the way he kept his eyes on the road when he left you standing in front of your house last night.

Get a grip, get a grip, get a grip.

It was ridiculous.

How much one date could affect you.

He’s just a boy, you keep telling yourself as you get dressed. Reasoning that the crushes you’d had before never amounted to anything. The dates you’d been on, the beds (or backseats) you’d found yourself in spurred only by a feeling of obligation. By a desire to understand what everybody else but you seemed to. Any actual feelings, crushes on classmates that never looked your way in school, or beautiful strangers just breezing through town looking for a bite to eat at the diner, were never allowed the context for infatuation. So, maybe that’s all this was. It’ll pass, you repeat to yourself as you pour your first cup of coffee for the day.

You decide to kill the extra hours before you start your shift by baking banana bread. The idea of your home enveloped in the warm smell of cinnamon and butter an extra appealing thought this morning. It’s not until you start making the batter, the bananas caramelising in a pan, that you realise you’re two eggs short.

You turn the gas off before shuffling to the front door in your fluffy slippers. Your neighbour, a sweet albeit slightly odd older lady will be willing to give you some. You’ll offer a couple of slices in return.

It’s like déjà vu, the way your focus is pulled when he sits up on his bike, your body stilling as the front door closes behind you. You’re tempted to count your fingers, to try and blink him away.

But Steve Harrington is definitely leaning on his bike across the street watching you.

He moves the same time you do, his steps matching yours as you walk down the stairs of your porch. You avoid eye contact, instead watching his feet as they cross the road in long strides, before he gets to the footpath, you’re hopping over the flowers that divide your house with the neighbours. Steve stops short as you scramble up to the front door, knocking in a loud but distinct pattern on the metal of the screen door so Lotti knows it’s you.

“Oh, good morning darling.”

“Morning, Lotti. Do you have any eggs?” You’re out of breath from the hurdling, noticeably more so than you should be from walking in between your houses.

Her gaze falls behind your shoulder, no doubt at the person causing a tingle up your spine from the mere thought of his presence there, before shifting back to your strained smile.

“Of course. You coming in?”

“Yes.”

Lotti shuts both doors behind you and your breathing begins to steady, the cool of her darkened house and the scent of white sage that’s ingrained in her furniture grounding you.

“I guess all that racket this morning was for you then.”

You follow her into the kitchen, “I thought it was just in my dream – the motorbike I mean.”

“You were dreaming about it?” She holds out an almost full carton of eggs. You only offer a nod in response, taking the two eggs you need before she gently grabs your hand, craning her neck to make sure you’re watching her. “He’s beautiful. Don’t let him in.”

You stare back at her for a second, her eyes reflecting your own, framed by skin weathered by the world before you nod again. She seems appeased by this, letting go of your hand and walking you back to the front door. You give a cursory glance outside to check if the coast is clear, seeing that Steve is stationed back by his bike.

“Thanks for the eggs.”

“Anytime darling.” Lotti doesn’t close the door behind you, watching as you walk away so you take the front path to the road instead of making a fool of yourself by jumping through the bushes again. You walk quickly, head down as you approach your own door and slide back into the safety of your home.

There’s something foreign in your space that belongs to him, and you know that’s probably what he’s here for. It’s scratching at a corner of your mind as you finish baking and start getting ready for your shift, but you won’t give him the satisfaction of its return just yet. You’re half hoping he’ll just give up and ride off, unable to keep yourself from peeking out the window to check every now and then as if you wouldn’t hear the roar of his engine when he kickstarted it.

When it’s time to leave, you spend half a minute taking deep breaths at the door, subconsciously fixing your hair with the hand not occupied with a helmet.

“Just get it over and done with.” You mutter before swinging the door open, with more force than you intended. Steve sits up straight again when he hears the slam on your way out, a little stunned as you storm down the footpath heading straight for him. He meets you in the middle of the road, opening his mouth to say something before it's cut off with a sharp exhale as the helmet is thrust into his chest.

“Here, take it and leave.” His hands catch it before you drop it in between you. “And don’t be driving past here anymore. The neighbours aren’t very happy being woken up by that thing.” His head turns briefly as you point towards his bike, before snapping back towards you when you turn abruptly.

“W-wait.”

“I have to get to work.”

Steve slides in between you and your car, “Let me give you a ride. I’ll pick you up and we can talk after.”

You shake your head in disbelief, “There’s nothing to talk about. You got your helmet back, now leave me alone.” He moves aside as you brush past him, getting into your car without another glance his way. You stop your eyes from flicking to the rear-view mirror when you pull away, head fuzzy in the silence on the drive through town.

***

The familiar sizzle of the griddle and clanging of metal cookware and plates that greets you when you enter the diner through the kitchen distracts you from the lack of talk. It isn’t until you walk into the serving area, tying your apron around your waist that you notice the quiet.

“What’s going on?” You mumble when you approach another waitress, noticing her eyes glued to the TV much like the rest of the diner. “Oh shit.”

The headline catches your attention first, followed by the image on the screen of the varsity jacket-clad young man. He was someone you recognised from school. A couple of years older than you and definitely well past his letterman-wearing days but the local news had picked that photo of him, presumably to show him as someone with potential; someone whose mistakes could be more easily forgiven. Local boy murdered in heinous attack.

He hadn’t been a boy for at least a decade.

“What happened?”

The other waitress, Maggie, whispers to you as she resumes pouring coffee. “They don’t know yet. Found him in the alleyway beside The Oasis early this morning – everyone’s in shock. The news didn’t mention any stab or gun wounds, but apparently Penny Lee saw the body as they were zippin’ it up while she was walkin’ by to get to work and says his eyes were just gone. Nothin’ but blood there. But you know Penny, she convinces herself she sees stuff all the time.”

You didn’t really know Penny, not like how everyone in town knew each other. You’d grown up with these people, taken the same classes, the same school bus when you were younger, but you were never afforded a second glance. Until high school ended, and you were stuck here like the rest of them, finally growing into yourself only to be stunted by the lifestyle of a small town.

You’d only ever had one friend growing up, and you’d stuck by one another through it all. She’d moved a town away recently, to live with her boyfriend. That’s why you’d met her halfway at the carnival a week ago. She’d already been with him but wanted to enjoy it with you as well – gawking at the stunt riders together.

You hadn’t even told her about Steve yet. Maybe now there was nothing to tell.

The mood in the diner as the rest of your shift dragged on weighed down the air like the threat of rain on a humid day. The news on repeat on the box TV hung in the corner, customers shaking their heads and whispering solemnly; you moving on autopilot nodding in response to their conveyance of shock.

It follows you as you’re untying your apron at the end of your shift, exhausted from the emotions you’ve experienced through every interaction, not to mention the lack of sleep from the previous night.

“Much planned for the night?”

You shake your head as the line cook takes up the space next to you, letting his long curls free before untying his own apron and shoving it into the locker next to yours.

“No. Probably better to stay in and lock everything up though.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, sweetheart. That asshole probably just finally ran his mouth to the wrong person.”

You look down at him as he sits on the bench to swap his steel cap boots for his worn sneakers. You’d always been friendlier with the kitchen staff than the waitresses, but you were comfortable with Eddie and his friends. “We mustn’t speak ill of the dead.” You faux admonish.

“Why not? Everyone in this town speaks ill enough of the living.”

You exhale an almost laugh. “What about you? Any wild plans?”

“If you think making my uncle mac and cheese with hot dogs for dinner and getting stoned in front of the TV is wild, then yeah,” he looks up at you, eyebrows raised, “it’s gonna be off the rails.”

You hook your bag over your shoulder and offer him a wave, “Have a good night.”

“Call if you need, okay?”

You return his look of sincerity, ”I will, thank you, Eddie.” He salutes as you turn away and head out the back door, the fresh air giving you a bit of a boost as you breathe in the night.

***

It was too dark to see him when you first pulled up.

Now, as you step out of your car and your eyes reflexively find him in the same spot you left him you start to worry about what you really know of this boy that rode into town to steal your common sense – and where you’d written down Eddie’s number.

“This is insane you know that? I should call the police.” Your voice carries easily in the silence of the night as Steve steps further into the light of the streetlamp his hands raised.

“I just need to apologise for last night.”

“Fine, apology accepted. Can you leave?”

He tilts his head, a smirk pulling at his lips, “That doesn’t sound very sincere.”

You scoff, moving towards your door and Steve runs across the street.

“I didn’t want it to end. I really had to take care of something. I didn’t have an option. Believe me.”

You turn around abruptly, and he stops a few steps in front of you. “Why should I? I barely know you.”

Steve holds a hand to his chest, taking a steadying breath before pleading with you again, “Please, give me another chance. Let me make it up to you. Get to know me.”

The light catches his eyes, reminding you of your dreams; the way he held you, the wind passing through your skin as you clutched onto him riding to some unknown destination out of town.

Maybe it’s this feeling of unease in being alone tonight because somehow you can’t believe Steve would ever intentionally hurt someone. Maybe it’s the earnestness in the way he looks at you, or the fact that you feel anything at all when he does – but you can’t stop the words from slipping out.

“You hungry?”

He nods slowly, unsure at first. “Starved.”

You gesture with a flick of your head behind you, “I’ll heat up some leftover spaghetti.”

You make him sit on the back porch after he freshens up in the bathroom, his eyelids drooping to the sound of you pottering about through the window as the cushions on your outdoor sofa draw him further into a state of comfort.

“Should I just leave you out here?”

Steve jolts at the sound of your voice, rubbing his face as he sits up straighter, “M’sorry, just…”

“Long day standing in the street like a hopeless stalker?”

He smiles as you pass him a bowl of pasta, “Yeah.”

You leave a cushion space between you as you sit down. Steve concentrates on twirling the pasta around his fork to stop himself from moving closer.

“Did you uh–how was your day?”

You shrug, “Not great. Probably worse for a lot of other people. They’re saying this guy was murdered last night, someone I went to school with.”

“I’m sorry.”

You sigh, “He was an asshole anyway, from what I’ve heard. But still…it’s weird for this town. Unexpected. You should be careful,” you shake your head, “I don’t think they’ve caught whoever did it.”

“Are you okay?”

You look over at him. “I just feel a little emotional, I guess. Seems to be something in the air at the moment.”

Steve’s hand twitches, “I’m around, you know? If you ever feel unsafe or anything–I meant what I said. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

You stare at the furrow of his brow and the short stubble peeking through along his jaw before you catch his hazel gaze again.

“Why wouldn’t you let this go? I mean, the carnival’s only in town for another few weeks anyway. Do you have some sort of extreme people-pleasing complex or something?”

He laughs softly, “Well yeah kinda, but that’s not why.” You urge him with a look to elaborate. “I didn’t back off ‘cause I didn’t want you thinkin’ that I don’t care about–you. That I was just some asshole.”

You shake your head, “Why does it matter so much?”

“’Cause you see those things…you see me.” He pauses, licking his lips. “And I want you to know that I see you too.”

Fuck.

Tagging @dreamerjj

[itallcomesfromhoney]

just friends | kirishima eijirou x bakugo katsuki x reader

synopsis: friends to lovers ft. fake dating

note: ahh! thank you so much for all the love on the teaser, this is the first fic i’ve actually written, not entirely sure where it’s going yet but we’ll figure that one out. i wanted some context to these three so we're starting with a first year throwback before we go straight in, let me know if you'd like more of their friendship years sprinkled in. i'm so sorry for the delay, feedback is always appreciated and feel free to pop into my inbox any time ✨

wordcount: 1.6k

chapter one

“Outta my way, nerds!”

You feel pressure between your shoulder blades and you stumble forward into the freshly red headed boy in front of you. Eijirou Kirishima catches you by your forearms and raises his dark eyebrows at whoever it was that pushed you, “That wasn’t very manly.” You follow his gaze to see a blonde figure, almost out of sight across the cement plaza already and a small black cloud appeared above your head at the sight. “What is his issue” You scowled, tiny drops of rain spit out into your immediate area, accompanied by low grumbles of thunder and Kirishima waves his hand through the thick cloud, dispersing it back into the atmosphere. “C’mon, Stormcloud, let’s find our class before you flood us all.”

You and Kirishima had gone to middle school together, quickly becoming friends and applying for UA together alongside Mina Ashido, your mutual pink friend. The three of you had managed to get not only onto the same course but into the same class, by some miracle. The pair of you walk side by side, attempting to navigate the corridors of the new school, but mostly just taking everything in. You marvel at the upperclassmen loitering near their classrooms, you can’t help but to daydream about that being you someday. Your face heats as a pretty girl with long lavender hair waves a hand at you and you quickly face the floor as she giggles to her friends, “First years are just so cute”

Eventually you both find the room marked '1-A' and slide into the class behind a small freckled boy with green curls that you vaguely recognised from the entrance exam, “…put a stick up your ass?” Your ears pricked as you recognised the voice from earlier and the room darkened as another storm cloud formed above your own head. “You’re totally joking” you grumbled at Kirishima, eyes locking onto the blonde head of hair that had shoved you earlier, at least it looked like it wasn’t just you he had beef with. Kirishima shook his head and tugged you away by your shoulders, “What are the odds”

“Whoa sick cloud” You snapped your eyes off of the angry looking boy, now arguing with a tall dark haired boy to look at yet another blonde, this time with black stripes near his eyes and a wide friendly smile. “Do you, like, make that?” He asked you, staring at the grey mass rolling above you head. You shook your head to clear my previous thoughts and the cloud dissipated, replacing itself with a warm breeze that ruffled your hair before stilling. “Oh! Um yeah, kind of?” You stammered, rubbing the back of your neck, “I can’t control it very well yet though” “Kaminari Denki, your quirk is so cool!” You introduced yourself to the ball of sunshine in front of you and Kirishima did the same. “So, what’s your quirk?” Kirishima asked the new boy and you half listened to the pair chatting as you scanned the rest of the classroom.

You recognised a fair few people from the exams, you realised, not just the small green boy, who now seemed to be locked in a tense conversation with the scary blonde. There was a small brunette girl, bouncing slightly on her toes who you were sure had some sort of levitation quirk, maybe? And oh god, there was a tiny boy with shiny purple spheres attached to his head with a spooky looking smile on his face who you distinctly remember harassing a group of girls at the exams. You spotted Mina, already making friends with a tall brunette girl a few rows down and sent her a wave before a huge yellow tube seemingly appeared at the front of the room, “Welcome, to UA’s hero course.”

— Months Later —

The Class A dorms were buzzing with activity, chatter bouncing around the hallways as everyone got ready for the school dance. “I can’t believe you actually convinced me to wear this stupid thing!” Bakugo scoffed, looking down at his suit and tugging roughly on his tie. Kirishima eyed him and laughed, “Bakubro, c’mon! It’s a dance! You can’t wear a suit without a tie.” “I’ll do what I want, shitty hair”

The boys’ banter was interrupted as the elevator opened, revealing you wrapped in a baby blue silk slip and fiddling with a small piece of hair that wouldn’t quite sit in place. “Wow! You look great Y/N!” Eijirou gasped, running a hand through his red hair. You smile at the red head and smooth down the fabric of your dress, “Thanks, Eijirou! You boys look nice” “Thanks!” Eijirou beamed, looking over at Katsuki for his opinion, only to be met with a frown. “Tsk” Katsuki made a noise of dissatisfaction. “Suit’s too tight…” Eijirou rolled his eyes at the blonde boy, “I doubt it is. It looks the same as it always-” “Shut up!” Katsuki’s scowl deepened, muttering under his breath.

You frown at Bakugo, “Is it the tie?” You ask the blonde, concerned. You knew he’d apparently been sensitive to tight clothes around his neck since his encounter with the sludge villain, not that he’d ever really admit it. “Don't get why these damn things have to be so tight.” Katsuki looked away and grunted to himself. “Hey man. You sure you're alright?” Kirishima asked, “I’m fine. Just shut up.” You stepped forward to tug on Bakugo’s tie, loosening it slightly and popping his top button open, “Is that a bit better?” Katsuki was caught off-guard by the sudden tug, but let out a small breath when he felt the tie loosen up. He turned around to face you. “Thanks or whatever” He nodded his head once, his scowl softening just a bit. You smile at him and step backwards, checking yourself over in the reflection of the large window in the common area, “Let’s go then, we can’t keep everyone else waiting” You joke, moving to leave the dorms.

The two boys fell in line behind you as your trio made their way towards the main hall, Kirishima nudged Bakugo once as they stepped into the crowd of students. “Looks like your mood is better.” Katsuki huffed in response, crossing his arms. “Whatever. I just wanna get this crap over with already” “Lighten up, Katsuki, you might even have fun” You tease, Kirishima snickered “She’s right, y'know? You’re just stubborn” “Whatever, shitty hair. I’m not having fun.” Bakugo looked away, but couldn’t hide the small smile on his face. Eijirou sighed, shaking his head but smiling back at his friend. “Eijirou and I will just have fun without you then!” You joke, grabbing Kirishima’s hand and tugging him behind you into the hall. Eijirou barked a signature laugh and let you drag him forward as Bakugo rolled his eyes. “Hey! Wait up, nerds!” Katsuki stepped forward and began following the two of you at a leisurely pace, trying his best to act stony.

As soon as you stepped into the hall you smiled, looking at all the decorations and scanning the crowd for some of your other friends and classmates. Spotting them across the room, you tug Eijirou over, you knew Katsuki would catch up eventually. The theme of the year was 'Under the Sea', the room swathed in blues and bright corals, sunny spotlights dancing around the walls and briefly you wondered if Gang Orca or Selkie had had anything to do with it. You hear a pitched squeal as you and Kirishima make your way to your classmates and you let go of his hand as Mina tackles you into a hug, “Hi! You look so gorgeous!” You feel your face warm as you thank her, repeating the comment back to her. Mina was decked out in a soft green dress, the fabric shimmering against her pink skin.

Bakugo had chosen this moment to catch up to the group, an unimpressed look on his tanned face. “You know, you could’ve waited for me you two…” He grumbles and you shoot a wink to him over your shoulder, “Where’s the fun in that?” The blonde huffs but otherwise doesn’t respond and Kirishima shoulders the other boy lightly, “You could smile, you know” he teases. Bakugo grits his teeth and looks away, fully intending to ignore his friend, but he eyes the crowd of classmates forming around you, watching carefully.

“Hi! You all look great!” You smile, spotting some of the other boys heading over. Mina, forever the gossip, lights up as she spots a particular classmate and pulls him over, Todoroki’s own baby blue tie shines on his chest, “Todoroki! You two totally match!” It was a complete accident, but his tie matched your dress perfectly, the fabrics looking as if they were pulled from the same reel, you doubted it though; it was likely that his tie cost at least triple what your dress did. The half and half boy blushes and agrees, smiling a little “Y/N, you look nice” he compliments.

Bakugo rolled his eyes at the interaction, “Blue for under the sea? How original.” You turn and frown at the blonde, “Don’t be rude, Bakugo.” You hiss glaring at him. Bakugo scoffs but says nothing else and Kirishima looks at the taller boy with his eyebrows pinched, “Why didn’t we think to wear blue” he whines; Bakugo glares at him.

You chat with the group for a while before pulling away from the group, moving off to be with Kirishima and Bakugo. “What’s wrong with you?” You raise an eyebrow at the blonde boy’s scowl. “Nothing.” He frowned, not looking at you as he crossed his arms again. “Were we supposed to wear blue?” Kirishima asks you, still pouting, you tilt your head in confusion “Why would you?” “Don’t be a dumbass” Bakugo mutters, and you’re not entirely sure if it’s directed at you or Eijirou. You shake the weird comment off, “Well if you’re going to be grumpy all night, I’ll just dance with, Eijirou.” For the second time that evening, you wind your hand into Kirishima’s and tug him towards the dancefloor and for the second time that evening, the muscular boy lets you.

--------

✨taglist: @abadbitchblogs @/sixxze (i haven't been able to tag you!) @/I0ren12 (I can't tag you either, I'm so sorry!)✨

[bloo-the-dragon]

I've been seeing some people express concern for Bloodmoon on this post SO i'm going to throw in some extra context and Bloodmoon lore to clear some things up

Honestly i probably should have done this a long time ago BUT ANYWAYS-

The sudden change for them was very.. shocking to put it kindly. A very drastic change but after the initial shock Bloodmoon is very euphoric - Just happy and whimsical and freed because they're in a new form that just feels right even if they havn't fully come to terms as to why yet.

But existential crisis still boils under the surface and it's not til sometime later that it breaks out.

This is Bloodmoon shortly after the transformation -

- cheery, silly, happy. Sun and Moon arnt worried for too long because they seem happy (and in a way they're kind of flattered that their fae friend decided to take a form similar to their own - they've met many kids who dressed up like/wanted to be like the glamrocks afterall so this isnt too odd for them)

This is when the existential crisis/questioning moment really hits home

(happens while they are out too which only quickened it what with anxiety being around people and all)

Now the reason they changed in the first was because they realised they had fallen in love (platonically) with Sun and Moon. Their shapeshifting specifically is very emotional based and will trigger usually when high emotion is felt. This is the biggest physical change they have ever had however, and the most impactful.

And why did they turn red like the Bloodmoon you might wonder? Well 1. Lunar Eclipse, or Eclipse vibes specifically and 2. Have you ever heard of the red string? ~

But yeah right after the change they would be too caught up in the euphoria of feeling whole and comfortable in a new body and identity to really acknowledge the panic beneath the surface. And the crisis kicks in over time because they had been very much the non-partnering type before and never saw theirself ever truly falling for anyone (again even in a platonic sense)

They would talk to Sun and Moon after this, and while feelings would not be outright admitted there would absolutely be understanding there and acceptance which is all they really need. They become qpp's over time after that.

Also i mentioned in the tags of my last post that this is basically irreversable and thats because the only way it could be reversed is if they stopped loving Sun and Moon (which ofc they could never)

They loved them enough to make them part of theirself - and in a way Sun and Moon do the same when they get tails installed to match (I'm a sentimental sap and tails are fun)

They're robots too so one thing that they have in common with a fae is they can also alter their forms to an extent ;D tho in this case they just wanted to have tails so they could be more like Bloodmoon.

Both parties adopting pieces of each other into their respective selves/identities out of love shared for each other.

The sillies

[bluntblade]

Realised that this never posted, but I stand by it:

It's really weird that Rogue One's aesthetic, which was specifically developed for a Star Wars film which had minimal space wizards and was instead about much more subdued characters and murkier moral themes, has now become the aesthetic which gets slathered over all new live-action Star Wars whether it fits or not.

If you step back, Rogue One isn't just very different to the Saga movies either side of it, it's pretty damn different to what came back, what with the modern war movie influences. It's working to portray how the Galaxy often feels outside the saga, and the visuals are part of that.

Mando mostly works with the same look because while there are some big personalities, they're almost all side characters, while the mains are stoic and reserved except for Grogu (who's the only wizard regular). Andor looks downright great, not least as much of it is shot on actual locations and on full sets.

But apply this to Ahsoka and Kenobi, and it rather cuts against the vibe they're going for. Space wizards, with their operatic cosmic conflicts and connection to a mystic energy, tend to want something a bit more heightened (which I think is an under-discussed problem in the PT which is very muted much of the time, and a major strength in the more stylised Empire and TLJ). The colours are muted, the angles mostly flat, and it ends up being at odds with the story being told.

To extend Kenobi some goodwill, lots of the latter seems to have come from the Volume. You keep seeing where the cinematographer wanted to crank a shot of Vader to be sharper and more impactful, but couldn't because the Volume doesn't permit that. Although I do think there are some baffling bits of blocking like in the chase and the first duel, the floaty shaky-cam is a generally poor look and really, Lucasfilm shouldn't lean so hard on the Volume (I mean, seriously guys, look at Monarch. That looks miles better than anything you've done on TV except for Andor.) But point is, they tried and ran into constraints.

Meanwhile Ahsoka seems exceedingly comfortable with both feet in Gordon Willis' metaphorical bucket of cement. The characters' energy levels are tamped way down from Rebels to match the muted presentation, and things often feel low-energy even just within the context of these shows. Even when the show steps into the World Between Worlds, an explicitly supernatural plane (or goes into Ahsoka's coma dream) there's no real change in look. Contrast the way that Empire employs that low shutter speed in the dark cave, while TLJ steps into something surreal complete with voiceover and an impossible CG camera move. In Ahsoka, though, there's little attempt to make the place feel otherworldly beyond how the scenery looks.

And these are largely missing a vital part of Rogue One's look, which is scale. Both Gareth Edwards and cinematographer Greig Fraser are great at portraying large-scale things in interesting ways, and that's something which will tend to get lost with a move to the small screen and the massive use of the Volume, without shots from locations or physical sets to balance it out and make spaces feel more real. Without that, the Mandoverse keeps feeling... rather pokey.

[quitealotofsodapop]

So can we get more context on this situation for the Tang River Water au?

referencing this au.

Literally one of the first things Peng does when they get released from the Scroll is to try and kill who he thinks is Tripitaka [Tang]. Peng presses on Tang so forcefully that the stone around him cracks. Tang doesn't be looking so great afterwards either.

Only reason Tang isn't passing through Diyu after this scene is Azure mentioning that he's just the monk's reincarnation (which 100% must have tickles Peng pink since they of all people know how embarassing it must have been for Buddha's teacher's pet to fail to break the cycle of rebirth). I have seen aus where Tang does die in this scene and his Golden Cicada powers have to come in clutch to keep his soul there. (link to a really cool animatic)

But in the "Mother Child River Tang" au?

Peng immediately takes one look at this *obviously* pregnant monk and just starts screeching with laughter! You know that sound peacock's make thats like a strangled laugh? That is all Peng is doing for their first five minutes out of the Scroll.

Yellow Tusk has already given Azure a warm welcoming hug and gotten caught up on the most recent millenium by the time Peng manages to catch their breath.

Peng: "The- [peacock cry]! The monk is- [more peacock cries!] ahhhhh! I can't even be mad at him right now! It's so funny!" Tang, still a little hurt, now offended: "Rude. A pregnant man isn't that funny." Peng: "But a pregnant monk is! Looks like that vow of chasity didn't stick eh?" Azure: "Peng, they are not the monk." Peng, laughter stops: "...then who the Diyu are they??" Tang, emboldened: "I'm Tang! Reincarnation and/or decendant of the Great Monk! And this is my husband Pigsy, our son MK, and our friends." Peng, tears in eyes: "HE MARRIED THE-!" [peacock cry!] Azure & Yellow tusk: *both sigh tiredly*

On a more serious note, since Sandy was forced to push Tang out of the way of Yellow tusk's attack + Peng pinned him to the ground, the Monkey King's part of the Scroll is damaged, MK is having a mental breakdown, and if we combine this with "Slow Boiled Stone Egg" au - the Brotherhood has taken Yuebei Xing hostage? Tang is in a lot of physical and emotional distress rn.

Like... enough to trigger early labor-level of distress.

Bodhisattva Guanyin is summoned immediately to Subodhi's temple before any actual training can occur. She's (and many other buddhist deities) so preoccupied in making sure that the Golden Cicada and his baby survives that they are distracted from the threat sieging Heaven at that moment...

Pigsy has to be held back from trying to tear the Brotherhood apart himself. Zhu Bajie wasn't *just* "some demon". He used to be one of the most powerful Marshals in Heaven - commanding 80 thousand heavenly sailors/soldiers. In one mythology, Marshal Tianpeng was even a son of Doumu - the mother of constellations (making him the Queen Mother of the West's brother oddly enough).

Whos to say that Pigsy doesn't accidentally tap into the powers of that life? The whole naval power of Heaven is suddenly at Subodhi's school, waiting for the orders to turn the Brotherhood into a fine red smear on the wall. It's only Tang's own pleading that Pigsy doesn't act rashly.

The chaos does lead to an odd conciencidence occuring though...

Nezha, post-s4: "I do wonder... has the Jade Emperor broken the cycle of rebirth? If not, then that means the location of his soul could prove dangerous if left unchecked. I must contact the Underworld." *starts mediatating* MK: "What do you mean?" Nezha: "The Emperor was eons old. That amount of acculmilated divine power needs a host that can handle it. Like-" Tang & Pigsy's baby: *snorts/burps loudly* Nezha, realising: "-the child of the Golden Cicada and of the Doumu herself..." Yama, King of Hell, astral projecting: "You guys are not gonna believe where the Emperor ended up! He's in a half-demon piglet somewhere- oh there she is!" Tang & Pigsy: ( 0_0) (0_0 ) "uh oh"

[glorious-sunset]

LBFAD is the most inspiring series I have ever watched and here is why…

Although Love Between Fairy and Devil (LBFAD) only caught my eye on Netflix in December 2023, I’m so glad it did and that I didn’t miss out on this stunning and thought-provoking masterpiece. It is the most inspiring series I have ever watched for many reasons. Aesthetically, I found the beautiful 4K production quality as enjoyable as high-budget productions such as Lord of the Rings and Game of Thrones. I frequently felt the need to pause and admire the well-designed sets, and exquisitely detailed costumes of even minor characters. The acting is superb across the board, and the leads act and respond very naturally to each other. The long hair of male characters is especially well-done, falling naturally with subtle highlights and looks real. All these details breathe life into this fantasy world and make it very realistic.

Every line of each song from the phenomenal OST is brimming with hidden meanings related to the series, adding lots of additional context! The artwork created for the opening and ending sequences is also full of meaning (minor spoilers ahead). Take, for example, the last picture where the OTP are sitting on a boat in the Oblivion River, the junction between their two tribes, the male lead has removed his crown and hence his responsibilities at least for the moment, and they are watching the sunrise together for the rest of eternity after the close of the series (sigh!)

Every single character of note in the series goes through profound character growth, the only exception being the abstract ultimate villain Taisui. Even the secondary villains and dictator of Shuiyuntian have grown and changed their perceptions by the end. It made me believe that anyone is capable of opening their minds and bettering themselves. Both lead and side characters are repeatedly faced with overwhelmingly bleak choices and heartbreaking challenges, especially in the last ten episodes. Yet every time, they show courage, sacrifice and selfless love that is amazing and very inspiring.

It is rare to find this kind of poignance in any production. I used to find Game of Thrones inspiring due to Daenerys freeing the world of slavery…until Season 8 happened. LBFAD tops Game of Thrones in this regard by freeing two distinct realms from conflict. The actions of the OTP break through a hundred millenia of mutual hatred and relentless conflict between their people with no end in sight, to create a new dawn of lasting peace. LBFAD reminds me of Lord of the Rings in terms of its cinematographic beauty and themes of never losing hope and prevailing over overwhelming odds. However, the stronger focus of LBFAD on the lead couple’s development and on creating multidimensional villains and side characters made it, for me, more engaging to watch.

The world-building and depth of characters has many layers in LBFAD, to the extent that much of the context was clear to me only in retrospect on rewatching the series and on deep reflection. The fast pace of the series also means that a lot of action occurs off-screen in between scenes. There are no filler scenes, there is no room for them. Every scene adds new plot twists and depth to characters, making the series highly addictive.

I am not a native mandarin speaker, and came to realise how beautiful the language is only on encountering LBFAD and its OST. It inspired me to learn mandarin, which makes rewatching the series highly enjoyable as I am able to pick up new nuances. I’m embarrassed to be late to watch LBFAD after its release in August 2022, but have thoroughly enjoyed the posts on Tumblr from fellow fans, including enthralling artwork, meta and links to fanfiction. It has encouraged me to post on Tumblr myself. I have started to post my interpretations of artwork, mandarin names, xianxia concepts, and story-format reflections on each episode. I am thrilled to be a part of this wonderful community!

Links to some of my other LBFAD articles:

Character Names in LBFAD - Meaning and Significance

Location Names in LBFAD - Meaning and Significance

LBFAD Opening Artwork - Hidden Meanings

Here is a link to my episode 1 review (contains spoilers). All of my LBFAD articles and episode reviews can be viewed with the tag #lbfad reflections (hyperlinked) and the table of contents to these is here.

[championofsanghelios]

Linked Universe Snippet - Son...

"…is it odd that I-" Twilight stops mid sentence, shaking his head. "…this sounds so strange but-…I consdier you family…not just you, but everyone…the entire group of us…"

"That's not odd at all." Time says with a small, knowing smile. "…if anything it's actually true. You wouldn't have happened if I hadn't had children, and Wild wouldn't have happened if you didn't have children at some point."

Twilight tilts his head as he considers that. "…huh…I've never-…I've never actually thought about it that context before…or myself as a father and husband…"

"Well it might not be a case of marriage or making a woman in your life pregnant…not all children are of ones own flesh and blood. You could meet your son or daughter one day…a lost soul looking for a part in something…"

He looks down at the maps he's staring at. "…I know that from experience…"

"You do?" Twilight asks, tilting his head. "…who was it? If you don't me asking."

"Does it need saying?" Time looks up at him again, something akin to fondness in his eyes. "…don't you realise it by now?"

"…" Twilight's whole body straightens as it dawns on him, and his eyes widen, his mouth parting in a slight gasp. "…m-…me?"

"You were so lost when I found you…" Time says next. His smile only growing, an almost fatherly pride in his eyes. "…and now look at you. Look how far you've come since this all began…I couldn't be prouder of you, Link…if you were my own child."

Twilight's eyes soften at that, and he feels tears prick the corners of them. His words, his smile, everything about that had created the perfect storm of feelings with him, enough to break down a few very stubborn walls he'd built long ago. "…oh…"

That comes out as a strange croaking noise as his voice breaks slightly. He looks back up at the Old Man. "…you-…you really mean that?"

"Of course I do." TIme nods, conviction in his voice, and sincerity in his gaze. "…every word."

[happyhauntt]

give your tears to the tide — nikolai lantsov.

series masterlist | writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: now that he knows, nikolai lantsov is the only soul in the world aware of the truth at the heart of her. for better or worse.

─── pairing: nikolai lantsov & anya kamenev (original character.)

─── warnings: sexual assault tw! (off-screen, not descriptive), serious angst, character death (minor character), manslaughter, mentions of the army (in a canon context). this one's a lil dark. hurt/comfort. trauma. nikolai learns that anya is grisha except it's in the worst way possible and he behaves like a fucking king. threats of violence. i realise this plot would've been a lot more believable if anya were a heartrender or squaller but i fully believe in my heart that she's a tidemaker so suspend your belief for five minutes pls and thank you.

─── word count: 2.8k.

─── taglist: @naushtheaspiringauthor / @a-taken-url / if you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know!

      There's a body in the corner and the stable floor is soaked through with water. It seeps through the fabric of her army-issue trousers, clinging and cold, but Anya can hardly feel it. The ground is hard beneath her, but still she sits, with her knees pulled up to her chest, and she watches. She waits. She prays to Saints she doesn't really believe in that the body in the corner will twitch, or breathe, or something.

     But it doesn't, and it won't, and there's no Saint in the world that can save her now.

     That's how Nikolai finds her. Not long after curfew, when she didn't check in with their commanding officer before dinner, he'd known something was off. In all the months he has served with her in their unit, he cannot recall a time when she was late for anything. Nikolai didn't think she was even capable of such a thing, really, so he'd asked Dominik to cover for them and slipped off to look for her as everyone got ready for bed.

     He checks the gardens first. More often than not, he'll find Anya laying on a bedroll beside her tent, watching the sun set over the horizon. She'd count the stars as they came into view and once, when she'd been feeling particularly tolerant, she'd even invited him to sit with her so they could point out constellations. It is a rare day when he doesn't set her teeth on edge, so he'd joined her eagerly and listened, enraptured, as she told him all about the stars and their stories.

     Those same stars glitter overhead now, winking mockingly at him, but there is no one to be found in the gardens. The estate their unit is staying at on their way north belongs to some baron whose name Nikolai doesn’t care to remember, and it isn't too large, but even so, he checks the gardens again.

     Just in case.

     Nikolai sighs to himself, unable to think of where she might be, before he notices a light in the distance. Everyone else has gone to bed, and the officers are drinking and playing cards in the drawing room, so why would there be anyone in the stables this late? Why would Anya be there?

     He doesn't dwell on the thought for longer than a moment. If it is her, then his worries will ease, and that's enough to send him striding down the dirt track that leads to the stables.

     As he nears, the ground beneath his feet grows soggy with muck. An odd trickling sound catches his attention, and when he squints into the dark, he notices a small stream of water escaping through a crack in the doorway.

     Nikolai pushes the unlocked door open, wincing as the hinges shriek. One of the horses chuffs at the sudden sound, but otherwise the room remains silent as a grave. The sudden draft makes the lantern flicker where it hangs from its hook, and as his eyes adjust to the dim light, he realises that he is not alone in the stable.

     "Anya?" Even though his voice is little more than a murmur, it still feels too loud. The sound of it rattles off the walls, and he can't help but flinch, but the girl curled up on the floor doesn't move. Doesn't raise her head, or even really seem to breathe.

     He creeps closer. Dread settles over him like a burial shroud. Old bits of hay crunch beneath his feet and the lantern spits, but the pit in his stomach only grows as he takes in Anya's appearance.

     Her hair straggles around her face in limp, damp strands. When Nikolai last saw her, it had been neatly braided and pinned, but now honey-coloured strands hang loose and messy. Her skin is damp, too, and pale. So pale, white as a corpse, and a flash of panic rolls through him.

     "Anya, come on." He kneels on the ground beside her. Cold, dirty water seeps into the knees of his trousers. He reaches out with gentle hands, but doesn't touch her. They merely hover above her shoulders, as if to offer comfort he isn't sure she'll accept. Not from him. "What are you doing out here? You're soaked, and it's freezing. Let's get you inside before you get ill."

     Anya doesn't look at him. Her stare is fixed, unwavering, on a dark corner of the stables. There's something hollow and hopeless about them that makes him feel sick.

     A long moment passes, and then— "I didn't mean to."

     He doesn't think he's ever heard her sound like this before. Doesn't think he's heard anyone sound like this before. "What? Anya, what are you talking about?"

     "I didn't mean to." Her voice is brittle. The words are shards of broken glass on her tongue. Every one of them slices her open. Makes her bleed. "I... It was an accident. I didn't... I swear, I didn't even..."

     She wavers at the end, trailing off into a heavy silence. When she looks at him then, eyes so wide and frightened, Nikolai swears his heart grinds to a halt. That look cuts him deeper than any blade ever could.

     "Anya." Concern wavers in the depths of his eyes, and finally he reaches out to touch her. Gentle hands clasp her shoulders. She's so cold. He wonders how long she's been sitting out here. "What happened? Where did all this water come from?"

     Anya swallows roughly. Her lower lip quivers. Every part of him wants to hold her close, as if that will chase away all her demons, but he knows she won’t allow it. "Me. Or... him, maybe. I don't know. I didn't mean to do it, I just—"

     A choked sob cuts her off, and Anya buries her face in her hands. There's no doubt that she probably wishes anyone else had found her out here, rather than the boy who teases and goads her relentlessly. She doesn't even like him, really.

     Yet he's the one who noticed she was missing.

     "Anya. Nastya, look at me." The childhood nickname falls from his tongue before he can stop it, and he squeezes her shoulders once, a little too harshly, to pull her focus back. "Tell me what happened."

     "I came down to check on the horses. Maksim asked to swap duties with me so he could run into town and post a letter to his mother." Anya's hands begin to shake violently. She curls them into fists and presses them hard against her thighs to make them stop. "I was just finishing up when— Fuck, I don't even know him. He was only just assigned to our regiment. Lenkov, I think? Saints, I killed him and I don't even remember his name." She manages a short, sharp laugh. She almost sounds hysterical.

     "Anya." A sudden chill sweeps over Nikolai, as if someone dumped a bucket of ice over his head.

     Anya shakes her head. "I didn't even notice he was in here. And then he— he grabbed me, and he put his hand around my throat and shoved me up against the wall and told me to shut up even though I wasn't even screaming, I couldn't scream, I couldn't— And he started pulling at my shirt, and I didn't even think, I just did it. I remembered seeing them do it, the hand gestures, I didn't even know what they meant, I just wanted him to get off me."

     A thousand thoughts sweep through him all at once, but the only thing Nikolai cares about is the tremor in Anya’s voice, the shaking of her hands as she gestures to the corner. He sees the body slumped over in a puddle. Bits of straw stick to the fabric of his uniform. The familiar emblem of Ravka winks back at Nikolai, as if the double eagle is sneering at him, but there is nothing here to be ashamed of.

     "Can you stand?" he asks.

     She looks up at him sharply. "What? Nikolai, I just told you—"

     "Can you stand, Anya?" Her name sits like a lead weight on his tongue. He says it firmly, harsher than he wants to be, but there's a manic look in her eye he's never seen before. Not on her. He needs to keep her attention, her focus, away from the body in the corner. Away from the blood on her hands.

     She nods, once. "I think so."

     "Alright." Nikolai pushes himself up from the ground, and tries not to shiver at the way his damp trousers stick to his skin. The beginnings of a plan begin to formulate in his mind, and when Anya looks him in the eye, the certainty she finds there begins to set her at ease. "You're going to go back to the manor. Sneak in through the side entrance. Make sure nobody sees you. Go to the library. It should be empty. I'll meet you there in an hour."

     "Nikolai."

     "Go, Anya." They're not friends. She's made that abundantly clear so many times these last few months, but the way she's looking at him now, with her heart split wide open, makes him want to hold her tight and never let go. "I'll deal with this."

     And somehow, because she trusts him — Saints, she cannot believe she actually trusts him — she forces her stiff limbs to carry her out of the door and away from the chaos she caused.

     When she dares to cast a glance back of her shoulder, she finds the dim light extinguished, flooding the stables with shadows.

     An oil lamp flickers on the table, dim enough that it won't cast any light beneath the door, and Anya has to squint in order to decipher the look on Nikolai's face when he sneaks into the library nearly an hour later.

     A deep frown has etched itself into his features, and Anya’s chest seizes at the sight of it. She cannot recall a day in her life where Nikolai wasn’t smiling. There are lines carved on each side of his mouth, even at the age of sixteen, that bear the echo of his good humour.

     She cannot stomach that she is the reason for that frown.

     He doesn't say anything as he presses a glass bottle into her hands, before settling himself into the low armchair opposite. When she removes the stopper, it smells suspiciously like brandy.

     "What have you done with him?"

      There are still flecks of dirt stuck beneath Nikolai's fingernails, even though he scrubbed his hands nearly raw in the kitchens just now. Streaks of mud stain the hems of his trousers. A faint scent of soil lingers in the air.

     "Do you really want to know?" Nikolai hadn't felt all that terrible as he'd rolled Lenkov's body into a shallow grave at the edge of the property. Perhaps he should have. But every time the guilt tried to creep in, the memory of Anya curled up on the stable floor would flash through his mind, and every shovelful of dirt became a little easier to bear.

     Come morning, their superior officer will find a scribbled letter in Lenkov's bunk and assume he is a deserter. The reputation that will earn him is not nearly as bad as he deserves, but it will do. It’s not like he’ll live to harm anyone else.

     Nikolai nods at the bottle in her hands. "Drink, Anya."

     It's odd, really. Watching her follow instructions. His instructions, at least. Nikolai is used to her battling him. More often than not, his remarks are usually met with a snarky retort or an outright insult.

     As her lips close around the bottle and she swallows a sip of the brandy he stole, he decides he doesn't like her silent. He doesn't like it at all.

     When she's done, she holds the bottle out towards him like a peace offering. He takes his own long swallow of brandy and relishes the burn as it slides down his throat.

     "Why did you help me?" Anya’s voice wavers as she speaks, though she tries her best to steady it. In this light, Nikolai cannot quite see her expression, but he knows, somehow, that she's frowning. A little dip appearing between her brows. He's so familiar with it, has dreamed of smoothing it over with his thumb until she smiles at him. In his dreams, it’s the sort of smile that could cure any ill in the world.

     He chuckles and downs another sip. "Would you prefer I stand silently by as they arrest you? Sit in the crowd at your tribunal? Would you rather I watch as they lead you to the gallows and hang you for murder?"

     Her breathing turns ragged. "It wasn't murder—"

     "The First Army hates Grisha, Anya." There's no venom in his tone, but she flinches all the same. His eyes soften as he passes the bottle back to her. "You think they'd care if it was an accident? Or self-defence? All they would see is you, a Grisha who hid her powers and infiltrated the ranks of the First Army, killing one of their own. There would be no saving you from that."

     The statement hangs in the air between them like a noose. The gas lamp spits and crackles.

     "My parents hid it. Not me." She takes a large swig of the brandy and clutches the bottle close to her chest, as if it's a shield. "I was... Saints, maybe eleven, when I started to show. My mother cut my hand when the Grisha testers came so they couldn’t test me.”

     Anya’s hand flexes slightly, as if she is even aware she’s doing it. There’s still a thin white scar hidden in the crease of her palm.

     “After that,” she says, “my parents stopped bringing me to court. Told everyone that my health was fragile and that I wasn't well enough to travel."

     Nikolai nods, humming beneath his breath. He remembers that. One summer Anya was there, screaming through the gardens of the Grand Palace with him and Dominik and some of the other children, and then she was gone. She'd only appear once or twice a year afterwards, at the Winter Fête or his brother’s birthday ball, and her mother would always keep her close by.

     "I am my father's heir." Anya swallows roughly. Affection threads through her voice like strands of gold.

     Nikolai had met the Duke of Balakirev a few times as a child, and unlike many other nobles rattling around court in Os Alta, he hadn’t found the man to be ridiculous or, worse, intimidating. He recalls an older man, somewhere in his fifties with ruddy cheeks and silver streaking through his hair, but he had kind eyes. That, Nikolai remembers well.

     He sees the same soft blue in Anya’s eyes. 

     Anya’s heart warms at the memory of him. She last saw him just before she enlisted, months ago, and he’d watched her leave with shining eyes and a worried little pout. He’d tried to smile.

     He hadn’t wanted her to know he was afraid.

     "I’m his only child.” Anya’s lips form a tight line. “And the Grisha testers would have shipped me off to the Little Palace. I'd be lucky to ever see my parents again, Nikolai. Once you are labelled Grisha, it is a brand you bear for life. It becomes the only thing you are, and I... I love my parents for protecting me. I don't practise or train, I don't... I didn't know what I was doing in the stables. I don't know what I was thinking. I just wanted him to stop."

     Her voice is quiet, so quiet he can hardly hear her now.

     Nikolai wishes Lenkov were still alive, if only so he could rip the man to pieces with his bare hands. A shallow grave isn’t good enough. He should’ve left the body in the woods and let the wolves have him instead.

     "I've killed before. We're soldiers. But I never... I didn't mean to..." Anya's voice cracks, and a sob bubbles up in her throat. She presses her palm hard against her mouth, hard enough that her teeth almost pierce the skin, as if that will keep her tears at bay.

     Nikolai leans forward. Rests a gentle hand on her knee. She looks at him, eyes glistening with tears. His heart shatters in his chest, and the shards of it dig into his lungs with every breath he takes.

     "I won't tell anyone," he says, solemn as the grave. "About what happened, or about you. I swear."

     "Thank you."

     When daylight comes and Dominik finds them huddled together in a quiet corner of the house, Anya’s head resting against Nikolai’s chest as if the steady rhythm of his heartbeat had soothed her to sleep, he knows something immeasurable has changed between them. 

     He nudges Nikolai’s foot and quickly ducks out of the room as his friend begins to stir, and he doesn’t know what secret the pair of them share now, but Dominik swears he will take it to the grave, too.