#sometimes i answer these and then just.. never post them but like

[lemonlinelights]

@dialup-dragon YES HI HELLO!!!!!!!! The can has been opened I hope you like worms XD

The diva's name is The Question aka Vic Sage My Beloved. He's my favorite superhero like EVER in DC and Marvel I love him so much. I can say like SO MANY THINGS ABOUT HIM!!! Idk where to start UHHH the other person in the art is Huntress aka Helena Bertinelli she's a badass character with a lot of cool stories of her own. Cause it's ya know ✨comics✨ it depends on what you're reading/watching but they're sometimes lovers and I love them together so much.

The Question is from DC comics and he's from Hub Cap City which like a lot of cities in DC comics is corrupted and full of crime.

Vic DOES have a face! He just has a special mask that makes it look like he doesn't. The mask is weirdly very important in the start of his alter ego. He uses a gas to take the mask on and off and it also changes his hair color in the process. His skill set is martial arts and his detective skills. but later on he sort of starts to be able to communicate with cities? And also understand coincidences, comic book logic lol.

Uhh I'm trying to keep this short without going into an essay XD

For awhile his main struggle was seeing things strictly in black and white, until he's basically beaten to death by Lady Shiva which starts his entire journey into morals and learning that not everything is what it seems (I've a post that explains this a lot better hopefully I can find it) A LOT of other stuff also happens, many tragedies and character growth as is the life of a comic book superhero. Skipping all his dramatic adventures Vic eventually dies from lung cancer, and his successor is someone who he's been training-

Renee Montoya! She is AWESOME! I don't know her as well yet but she's amazing as The Question I love her. While Vic is alive their dynamic together is SO fun and Renee on her own is also neat. Again comics so the story changes a bit but shes a former cop struggling with alcoholism and her girlfriend leaving her when Vic enters her life giving her something to work for again. Renee usually has a relationship with Kate Kane (Batwoman) and I love it just wkhxenhdben💕

So yes there's two Questions, sometimes at the same time! Vic Sage has some appearances  in Justice League Unlimited that a fun watch. He and Huntress are together in it <3

They're my beloveds I love them a lot. I think it's mainly their personalities that draw me in a lot of the time. They're entertaining :-) ✨Divas✨

Uhhh also at some point when the universe got rebooted (this is usually done once the comics get too complicated even for the creators) they tried giving The Question a fresh coat of paint by making him a cursed guy who will be able to solve other people's Questions but never answer the biggest one, his own identity. Also this version doesn't actually HAVE a face he legit has no face. The version also has some superpowers? It didn't last long though and I think they've just been ignoring it. So uh yeah we ignore that one.

A whole bunch of JLU Question doodles

Shout out to these comments that changed how I saw certain scenes + Jeffrey Combs' entire performance (his voice is so goodd)

Adding another compulsive nerd to my "favourite compulsive nerd characters" collection

[signanothername]

Sorry if this is a dumb question, but, like, is your nightmare atleast... Good in close combat Or like... He can get knocked out easily?

With "close combat" I mean that he can't use His tentacles and, and he's gotta punch and kick and the only thing he can have with him that won't trigger the conditions of the term of "close combat" is a knife or smth like that

Btw, you're very talented, and I love reading your comics, seeing your drawings and the way you explain your interpretation of each character everytime someone wants to know anything about them <3

(I saw your post and I'm kinda worried for murder lmao, did he get his ass wooped after saying that?)

Not at all this is a very good question actually!

And the answer is no, he absolutely sucks at close combat, my Nightmare has a problem with his legs, so using them in violent/ aggressive activities is absolutely out of the question, he can use his hands just fine but even if his legs weren’t giving him trouble, he never truly fought close and personal ever in his life, so he lacks the skills and experience, he mostly keeps his distance, he can get close sometimes, but only if he’s planning on a quick retreat to a distance again

He heavily relies on his tentacles, aura, and shapeshifting abilities in combat, he’s really fast too, so even if someone got close he can easily dodge and put distance again, but he never actually goes for close combat ever, and I try to show that when Nightmare gets weakened enough to not be able to use his tentacles or move much out of the way Nightmare immediately tries to rely on underhanded tactics to get out of trouble

And thank youuuuu, super happy to know! <3333

(Funny enough I actually have two pages after that I made, but they were for fun in my corner of “never sharing this” but since you asked, I might as well share them, they both absolutely got punished unfortunately for them shdhhdhdh)

[xixistar]

Apologies for bothering you, but I have two questions:

1:How did Laura meet Starscream and join the deceptions?

2: why did she join the deceptions?

OKAY ALRIGHT I wanted/planned to draw something like a small comic, but studying and new hyperfixations on other fandoms just distracted me and I forgot to answer 😭 but thank you very much for asking!! I apologize for answering only now, but I'll try to explain everything with text

I like this art so I'll put it here

How did Laura get on the Nemesis?

Unfortunately, she didn't get there by chance and clearly not with the goal of making friends with everyone. I have another character, Lostvoid, who is quite a curious scientist and therefore needed an organic test subject that would fit the characteristics for a "small" experiment. Laura was the perfect example.

Lostvoid!! first art by @mictiankityrrrr

From there comes her first unwanted meeting with one of the Decepticons and several Autobots in the midst of a fight. The little human was unknown to both sides, even when Laura was caught in the rubble and broke her leg, falling into some kind of unplanned mousetrap for Knockout, who, as 'a very good Lostvoid's colleague', decided to use this opportunity of easily accessible organic. She got caught, of course. Grabbed quite roughly.

Well, and then the tests, and attempts to restore her leg as soon as possible in order to stabilize the condition..... isolation on the Nemesis only led Laura into a period of apathy 🫡 not surprising though

How did Laura become part of the Decepticons?

You may or may not have seen it, but Laura has what's called a "costume." A metal body that makes her almost on par with Cybertronians, except for the repulsive expression on her faceplate and the lack of coordination. This body is part of Lostvoid's experiment where the body of an organic is used solely for the purpose of advancing Decepticon affairs. Slavery, I guess...... or something close to that......

some sketches with her last design.... I'll redesign it later

I wouldn't say she's fully accepted as part of the team, but she helps Knockout and sometimes Lostvoid 🕊️

SO she didn't really have any choice, uh

How did Starscream and Laura meet? How did they become close?

Starscream, as the commander and everything like that, knew about the experiment when it began. There is no need to explain that this arrogant bird treated Laura with hostility at first, with mockery and so on. Laura treated him almost the same as the rest of the Cybertronians... if she even had the strength to think rationally then 🙌 But at the moment when she already began to accept some role as a "Decepticon", then it became much more fun considering Starscream's frequent visits to the medical bay.

Starscream now treated Laura with some kind of apprehension and tension, although he understood that she would NEVER do him any serious harm. But exactly this was scary for him. For a human in such a difficult situation, Laura treated him with some kind of ease, sometimes sympathy and sometimes friendliness. This frightened him, to be honest. But why did Laura do that? She herself had no idea, but against the backdrop of problems outside Nemesis territory and a broken relationship with her girlfriend, Laura found some peace while staying on Nemesis. Some peace when her "beloved commander" involuntarily began to open up through his complaints when Knockout was absent from his post. That was some kind of progress for both of them.

it's a very big slowburn for these two.... angst and hurtcomfort

I think they were brought together by some sort of need for comfort and understanding each other. But damn, it would have taken them a year to become friends, and starting a relationship was a real challenge for bpd cybertronian and his depressed girlie 😀

[jule116]

I posted a little story my little sister wrote in the arcane fandom a couple days ago, and people really seemed to like it! She just wrote another bit about ambessa and Mel so yeah enjoy! 😅😅😭😭

The first time Ambessa Medarda saw war, she was eight years old.

Her father did not shield her from it—he led her into its jaws.

The sun had barely risen when he took her by the hand, his grip unyielding, and guided her through the charred remains of a village whose name she would never know. The air was thick with the scent of blood and burning wood, a noxious perfume that clung to her skin, her hair, the very marrow of her bones.

“Do you hear it?” her father asked, his voice calm, unaffected.

Ambessa did not answer. She did not want to hear it. The cries of the wounded, the wails of mothers clutching lifeless children, the desperate whispers of men begging for mercy—none of it was meant for her ears.

And yet, it was all she could hear.

A man lay sprawled in the mud at her feet, his chest heaving in shallow, ragged breaths. His eyes found hers, dark and wet with terror. He was missing an arm. The stump was jagged, raw, and weeping crimson.

“Please,” he rasped.

Ambessa turned to her father, expecting him to call for a healer. Instead, he drew his blade and drove it into the man’s throat with a sickening crunch.

She gasped, stumbling back, her small hands flying to her mouth.

“Never hesitate,” her father said, wiping his sword clean on the dead man’s tunic. “Mercy is for the weak. Hesitation is a death sentence.”

Ambessa did not answer. Her pulse was a war drum, hammering against her ribs.

They walked deeper into the ruins. The corpses grew thicker, the devastation more complete. Some had been burned alive, their bodies curled in unnatural poses, their mouths frozen in silent screams. A child no older than Ambessa lay beneath the rubble of a collapsed house, a wooden toy sword still clutched in his tiny fist.

Ambessa looked away.

Her father grabbed her chin, forcing her to look.

“Do not turn your back on this,” he said. “This is the world. It does not care for you, and it will not be kind. You will either stand above it or be crushed beneath it.”

She wanted to tell him she understood. That she had learned the lesson he wanted her to learn. But she could not speak.

So she only nodded.

The lesson did not end that day.

She watched her father command armies, wage wars, cut down men with a steady hand and an empty gaze. And he made her watch. He made her understand.

“Strength is all that matters,” he told her, time and time again. “Weakness is a death sentence.”

Ambessa learned.

She learned to wield a sword before she learned to read. She learned to kill before she learned to love. She learned to bury her heart so deep inside herself that even she could no longer hear its cries.

By the time she took her first life with her own hands, she did not flinch.

By the time she led her own battles, she did not hesitate.

By the time she stood at her father’s grave, she did not weep.

She had become what he had forged her to be.

A Medarda.

Unyielding. Unforgiving.

A conqueror.

And yet, sometimes—only in the silence between battles, only in the dead of night when sleep eluded her—she would remember that village.

The bodies.

The fire.

The boy with the wooden sword.

And for the briefest of moments, she would wonder—if she had never seen those things, if her father had let her be a child instead of a weapon—

Would she still be capable of love?

Ambessa Medarda did not believe in love.

She had seen what sentiment did to men—it made them foolish, weak, vulnerable. She had cut down men who begged for their lives, not for themselves, but for the people they loved. She had heard warriors, mighty in battle, cry out for their wives as steel pierced their flesh.

Love was a wound. And she had never allowed herself to bleed.

Until him.

He was not like the men she conquered beside. He did not seek power for the sake of it, did not wield a sword as an extension of his arm, did not believe that war was the answer to all things. He was a diplomat, a scholar, a man of ideas. He spoke of peace, of building rather than destroying. And against all logic, all reason—she loved him for it.

With him, she felt something she had never felt before. Softness. He touched her as though she was more than a weapon, as though she was something worth cherishing, not just wielding.

And when she told him she was with his child, he smiled as if she had just handed him the world.

“Mel,” he whispered, resting his hand against her stomach. “She will be brilliant.”

Ambessa was terrified. She had never known how to be anything but a soldier. How could she be a mother?

But he showed her. He was the warmth she did not know she needed, the balance to her unyielding nature. He held her when nightmares pulled her back to the battlefield. He whispered to Mel while she grew inside her, telling stories of a world Ambessa had long given up on.

For a moment, she believed that perhaps love was not a wound after all.

Then war came.

It always did.

It did not matter that she had tried to build instead of destroy. It did not matter that she had hoped. The world did not care. It never had.

She fought, because that was all she knew how to do. But this time, she was fighting to protect. To defend the life she had built, the family she had sworn never to allow herself to have.

And in the end, she failed.

She found him in the ruins of their home, pinned beneath the rubble, blood painting his lips. His breath was shallow, his eyes distant.

She dropped to her knees beside him, pressing her hands against the wound in his stomach. It was too deep. Too much.

“You’ll be fine,” she told him, because she did not know what else to say.

He smiled, weak and fading. “I suppose… you finally learned to lie.”

“Shut up,” she snapped, her voice breaking. “I will not let you die.”

His fingers found hers. “Take care of her,” he whispered.

Ambessa did not cry when the light left his eyes. She did not scream, did not wail.

She stood, her hands stained with his blood, and ordered the city to burn.

That was the last time she allowed herself to love.

Mel never knew of her father.

Ambessa made sure of it.

She did not speak of him, did not keep his memory alive. What use was a dead man to a girl who would inherit the Medarda name?

Love had made Ambessa weak once. She would not allow it to make Mel the same.

She raised her daughter in steel and silence. There were no bedtime stories, no whispered words of affection. She taught her strategy instead of lullabies, strength instead of sentiment.

She made sure Mel understood the truth of the world—the truth her father had been too blind to see.

Power was all that mattered.

Mel was ten years old the first time Ambessa told her she was weak.

She had always known her mother’s love was different from what she saw in others. The other children had mothers who embraced them when they cried, who kissed their wounds and whispered reassurances.

Ambessa Medarda did not believe in such things.

“You are soft,” she told Mel one evening, after watching her hesitate too long during a strategy lesson. “Weakness is a disease. If you do not cut it out, it will be your downfall.”

Mel wanted to argue, wanted to say that hesitation was not weakness, that there was value in thoughtfulness, in caution. But she had learned long ago that Ambessa did not tolerate defiance.

So she nodded, swallowed her words, and tried to be what her mother wanted.

But it was never enough.

Years passed, and the lessons grew harsher. Ambessa tested her constantly, pushing her harder, waiting for her to break.

And Mel did.

Over and over again.

She was not like her mother. She could not kill without question, could not silence the part of herself that wanted to create rather than destroy.

And Ambessa saw it.

“You are not strong enough to be Medarda,” she said one night, standing over Mel with cold, assessing eyes. “You are not strong enough for Noxus.”

Mel’s breath caught. The words struck harder than any blade. “Mother, I can—”

“You cannot.” Ambessa’s tone was final. “I have no use for weakness in my house.”

Mel stared at her, waiting, hoping for something—anything—that would tell her this was not rejection. That Ambessa was not throwing her away.

But her mother’s eyes were unreadable, her face carved from stone.

“You will leave for Piltover,” Ambessa continued, as though this was nothing more than another lesson, another strategy. “You will find power in their wealth, in their politics. You will use your mind, since your heart makes you unfit for war.”

Mel did not know when the tears began to fall. She wiped them away quickly, but it was too late. Ambessa had already seen.

Her mother sighed. Not with sadness, not with regret. With disappointment.

“You see?” she said. “This is why you will never survive here.”

Mel wanted to scream. To beg. To prove she could be strong enough.

But deep down, she knew it was pointless.

Ambessa had already decided.

And just like that, Mel Medarda was sent away—not as an exile, but as an investment. A tool to be sharpened in a different kind of battlefield.

She did not cry when she boarded the ship to Piltover.

She did not look back.

Because if her mother had taught her anything, it was this—

Weakness had no place in the Medarda name.

Piltover was not Noxus, but it was its own kind of battlefield.

Mel learned quickly—power did not come from brute strength here, but from influence, from the ability to manipulate, to control without ever drawing a blade.

Yet, it was not enough.

No matter how high she climbed, no matter how deeply she wove herself into the city’s politics, she still felt weak. The voice of her mother echoed in her mind, a ghost she could never silence.

And then, the Black Rose found her.

They whispered to her of power beyond anything her mother could comprehend—power that did not come from steel, but from the unseen forces that ruled the world from the shadows.

She listened.

She learned.

She took that power into herself, let it change her, shape her, sharpen her into something new.

By the time war came for Piltover, by the time Noxus marched at Ambessa Medarda’s command, Mel was ready.

The battlefield was not a throne room. It did not care for politics, for manipulation, for whispered deals in the dark.

It was blood and fire. Steel and death.

And now, mother and daughter stood across from each other, two figures amidst the ruin of war.

Ambessa had always imagined that if she saw Mel again, she would find a woman broken by the softness of Piltover. But the daughter before her now was something else.

There was darkness in her eyes, power curling around her like shadows given form. The Black Rose’s mark was upon her, unmistakable.

Ambessa almost smiled.

“So,” she said, raising her blade. “You finally found strength.”

Mel did not answer. She only lifted her hand, and the battlefield twisted at her command.

The fight was brutal.

Ambessa had fought countless warriors, had cut down kings and warlords alike. But this—this was different.

Mel did not fight with swords, but with sorcery, with a will that bent reality itself.

Ambessa countered with steel and experience, pushing forward, relentless. A lesser opponent would have faltered, would have been crushed beneath her might.

But Mel did not falter.

She did not hesitate.

And in the end, it was she who struck the final blow.

Ambessa staggered, feeling the cold grip of death wrap around her. She fell to her knees, blood spilling from the wound Mel had carved into her.

She looked up at her daughter—her victor.

And for the first time in her life, she felt something like pride.

“You did well,” she murmured, voice thick with blood.

Mel’s hands trembled, her expression unreadable. But she did not look away. She did not weep.

Ambessa gave her the faintest nod.

“Good.”

And with that, Ambessa Medarda, the great conqueror, fell.

Her daughter had surpassed her at last.

[strangerthingsfanworkrecs]

I would love to recommend @tomtomslongdong as a *reader* highlight. It is always such a joy to see what they’re reading but also to read whatever comments and tags they leave behind. Let alone to be a writer and receive their feedback. One of the greatest supporters in the fandom, truly if no one else cares for a fic I wrote but they enjoyed it, it’s like the ultimate stamp of approval.

This week, we're highlighting @tomtomslongdong as a commenter! All recs this week will be from her recs.

Tomtom answered some questions about what she does to find fics and to leave great comments under the cut

Why Stranger Things?

I went from casual watcher in anticipation of season 4 coming out to falling in love with all the characters in the space of a few weeks. Friendship, loyalty and messy family dynamics are such a core part of st, which is something I latch onto when I’m watching anything. And maybe.. there were some characters(Eddie) that I grew even more fond of(definitely Eddie). I even remember seeing edits of Eddie at the picnic table but it wasn’t until I had watched that first episode of season 4 that I truly got it. It’s been 84 years but I’m still in love with that man.

What's your favorite ship (platonic or romantic) to read?

I read x reader the most but I adore platonic stobin and I wanna read about them more. Their dynamic is everything to me. Infact Robin with any of the st girls too. I look up this one fanart of robin and Carol Perkins a lot. A LOT.

How do you typically find fics?

At the start I would brave the tags more and I do still do that but genuinely it’s from blogs I like and follow reblogging them. I’ve curated my own little balance of people reading stuff I know I’ll like and also being introduced to fics I might not have even thought of reading before seeing their reactions.

Are there other forms of fanart you enjoy? How do you find them?

Fanart that’s been inspired by fics or concepts, just witnessing one artist inspire another is so joyful. Also when an artists self inserts themselves into their art! It’s seriously one of the coolest things ever. My favourite thing to do is trawling the tags of an eddie blog as I go on a deep dive. I scrape the barnacles off that boat allllll the way back to the start. I find all sorts of fanart and work that maybe I’ve never seen as I didn’t gravitate back to tumblr till later in summer ‘22.

What's your tip for leaving comments on works?

Just tell them how it made you feel man. Scream it at the writers. I’m no good at articulating myself at all but sometimes you read the exact thing you needed to read and all is right with the world. Let them know they’re very much to blame for your emotional state when they post. And who knows those writers might occasionally grace you with the biggest gift of all (more lore on the world they’ve built directly from their mind via an IV drip known as the DMs)

Is there any fanwork that really stood out to you?

hockey!eddie has an iron tight grip on me and if anyone could find the stats on how many times I’ve viewed dr-aculaaa and hearsegrrl art on him, you’d take my phone away

Is there anything we didn't ask that you'd like to add?

Just that it’s wild, there’s this little community in my phone that’s so smart? So talented? And I’ve formed what I hope I can call genuine friendships from this and yet no one in my day to day real life knows I’m just kicking around in here haha! I get to be my weirdo self with my weirdo friends in peace and I think that’s lovely.

[emma23]

Unplanned discussions :

Steven grant x reader

You laid there, sprawled out across the tangled sheets, still panting slightly from the aftermath of what just happened. Steven Grant, your wonderfully awkward yet surprisingly talented husband in bed, was catching his breath beside you, his curly hair damp with sweat and his chest rising and falling with deep, heavy breaths.

The room was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of the duvet as the two of you tried to come down from the high. Your mind, still a little foggy from the haze of pleasure, suddenly honed in on a singular, horrifying thought.

Oh God. Did he just—?

Your eyes widened, the realization hitting you like a freight train.

"Y-you came inside me," you blurted out, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them.

Steven froze, his head turning slowly towards you, his doe-like eyes wide with surprise. For a moment, he just blinked at you, his face slightly flushed, as if he hadn’t even realized it himself until now. Then, a flicker of something primal flashed across his features—something that both thrilled and terrified you.

"I did," he murmured, his voice soft but filled with a satisfaction that made your pulse quicken again.

You stared at him, your mind racing as the implications of what just happened began to sink in. "What if I get pregnant?" you asked, panic lacing your tone as you propped yourself up on your elbows. "You don’t even know if I’m on the pill."

Steven’s expression shifted from confused to… amused? His lips twitched into a small, almost shy smile as he leaned in a bit closer, his voice low and teasing. "Don’t tempt me with ideas, love."

You gaped at him. "What—ideas? Steven, this isn’t a joke!"

Steven chuckled softly, the sound almost endearing if you weren’t currently panicking. His hand reached out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle, soothing, like he wasn’t at all concerned about the potential consequences of what you had just done.

And then, because your mouth always worked faster than your brain, you said something even more ridiculous.

"You’re not giving me a baby until I’m thirty."

The words left your lips, and the moment they did, you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. Your gasp was audible as you clapped a hand over your mouth, eyes wide with horror as what you had just blurted out in your post-orgasmic haze sunk in.

Steven, to his credit, didn’t seem as freaked out as you were. In fact, he looked… thoughtful. Like he was actually considering it.

"Thirty, huh?" he mused, tilting his head as if the idea was something he could pencil into his schedule. "That’s… that’s a bit far away, innit?"

"Steven!" You buried your face in your hands, groaning in embarrassment. "I didn’t mean—oh God, I can’t believe I said that."

Steven reached out, gently prying your hands away from your face, his brown eyes soft and filled with affection. "It’s alright, love," he said soothingly, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. "I mean… kids, yeah? That’s not such a bad idea."

You stared at him, dumbfounded. "Are you—are you serious right now? We just—" You gestured vaguely to the bed, your face heating up as you remembered the very unprotected sex you had just had. "And now you’re talking about kids?"

Steven blinked, his brows furrowing slightly. "Well, I mean, we’re married, yeah?" he said, looking a little confused by your panic. "It’s… it’s natural to think about it, isn’t it? Or did I… did I mess this up again?"

You groaned, flopping back onto the pillows, staring up at the ceiling as if it would give you answers. "Steven, you didn’t mess anything up," you said, exasperated but also a little fond of how completely clueless he was sometimes. "I just… wasn’t expecting to have the ‘baby talk’ right after, you know, that."

Steven chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, that’s fair," he admitted. "Bit of a… well, bit of a mood swing, I suppose."

You sighed, staring at him from the corner of your eye. "And anyway," you added, "I’m not giving you a baby until I’m thirty. At least."

Steven’s lips twitched into a small, teasing smile. "You said ‘at least,’ love. That’s open to negotiation, yeah?"

You glared at him, though there was no real heat behind it. "No negotiations. Thirty is the minimum."

Steven hummed thoughtfully, as though he was weighing his options. "Alright then. But just so you know, if you change your mind…"

You rolled your eyes, sitting up and reaching for your discarded shirt on the floor. "I’m not changing my mind."

"Right, right," Steven agreed, though you could hear the grin in his voice. "I’ll just keep reading up on those parenting books, just in case."

You shot him a look over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "You’ve been reading parenting books?"

"Well… not yet," he admitted sheepishly, "but I could, you know. Get a head start. Be prepared."

You couldn’t help but laugh at the image of Steven, sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea and a pile of baby books, taking notes like he was preparing for an exam. "Steven, you’re impossible."

"Maybe," he agreed with a smile, pulling you back into his arms and kissing the top of your head. "But you love me for it."

You sighed, leaning into him, your hand resting on his chest as his steady heartbeat calmed your nerves. "Yeah, yeah," you muttered, though the smile on your face betrayed your words.

A moment of silence passed, and then—

"So, about those baby names…"

You groaned, burying your face in his chest. "Steven, I swear to God…"

[lucabyte]

So does anybody else ever think about how Loop felt the need to demonstrate that the party's deaths wouldn't have any effect on the loops. I know I do but that's besides the point. Anyway I don't think Loop actually needs to bathe, they just like to feel included.

[demaparbat-hp]

In your Spitfire AU, since Zuko is looking after Lu Ten II, what happened to Ursa?

Zuko is slightly older in the Spitfire AU. He was banished at fifteen, his head a little clearer and denial a little weaker than in canon. After his first look through the Air Temples, Zuko decides that if he can't find a myth, he might as well search for the next best thing.

Finding Ursa isn't easy, but in time he makes it to a secluded house in a near-forgotten part of the world. His mom is there, older and stronger and alive.

But she isn't alone.

And Zuko, as it turns out, didn't keep the best company during his search.

When Ursa is discovered and her secrets are laid bare for assassins (for Ozai) to find, she begs Zuko to take his little brother and run. She'll do anything it takes to protect her children, even if that means leaving them behind to keep a target off their back. Ursa diverts attention from them and allows Lu Ten's ancestry to be kept a secret. She orders Zuko not to follow her again, and disappears.

Zuko is left with a little three-year-old brother to raise and a mother he cannot hold onto.

[gingermintpepper]

As usual I read your tags always and so you said Apollo did not ask for resurrection of Asclepius and Hyacinthus so i just wanted to share this. About Asclepius death I read it on theoi.com, that earlier authors don't make him resurrect as a god but that's a later development mentioned only by Roman authors like Cicero, Hyginus and Ovid. But still Apollo has a role in Ovid's version

Ovid, Fasti 6. 735 ff (trans.Boyle) (Roman poetry C1st B.C. to C1st A.D.) : Clymenus [Haides] and Clotho resent the threads of life respun and death's royal rights diminished. Jove [Zeus] feared the precedent and aimed his thunderbolt at the man who employed excessive art. Phoebus [Apollon], you whined. He is a god; smile at your father, who, for your sake, undoes his prohibitions [i.e. when he obtains immortality for Asklepios].

So here it is actually because of Apollo the decision was taken to resurrect him as god. And with Hyacinthus, I don't think I've read about Artemis playing the primary role. I know in Sparta there was a picture of Artemis, Athena and Aphrodite carrying Hyacinthus and his sister to heaven.

This is not on theoi.com but I saw on Tumblr it's from Dionysiaca by Nonnus

Second, my lord Oiagros wove a winding lay, as the father of Orpheus who has the Muse his boon companion. Only a couple of verses he sang, a ditty of Phoibos, clearspoken in few words after some Amyclaian style: Apollo brought to life again his longhaired Hyacinthos: Staphylos will be made to live for aye by Dionysos.

So since he is singing inspired by amyclean stories it probably means in that place it was believed Apollo was the one to bring back his lover to life.

Apollo as god of order was very important so i think it shows how special these people (and admetus too) were to him that he decided to go against the order for them 🥺

ANON!! Shakes you like a bottle of ramune!! BELOVED ANON!!!!! I'm littering your face with kisses, I'm anointing you with olive oil and honey - you absolutely made my night with this because, not only did I get the pure serotonin shot of having someone interact with my tags (yippee, wahoo!!) I also got to have that wonderful feeling of "oh wow, have I misunderstood something that was integral to my understanding of this myth/figure this whole time or is this a case of interpretational differences?" which is imo vital for my aims and interests as someone who enjoys mythological content and literature.

I'll preface my response with this: Hyacinthus is by far the hardest of these to get accounts for because his revival itself, as you very astutely point out, is generally accounted for in painting/ritual format which muddies the waters on who interceded for what. I wasn't actually familiar with that passage from the Argonautica - and certainly didn't remember it so thank you very much for bringing it to my attention!

That said, what I've come to understand, both about Hyacinthus and about Asclepius is that in the accounts of their deaths, Apollo's position is startlingly clear.

For Hyacinthus, it is established time and again that Apollo would have sacrificed everything for him - his status, his power, his very own immortality and divinity. Ovid writes that Apollo would have installed him as a god if only he had the time:

(Ovid. Metamorphoses. Book X. trans. Johnston)

Many other writers too speak of how Apollo abandoned his lyre and his seat at Delphi to spend his days with Hyacinthus, but they also all agree that when it came to his death - he was powerless. Ovid gives that graphic account of Apollo's desperation as he tries all his healing arts to save him to no avail:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book X. Apollo me boy, methinks him dead. trans Johnston)

Bion, in one of his fragments, writes that Apollo was "dumb" upon seeing Hyacinthus' agony:

(Bion, The Bucolic Poets. Fragment XI. trans Edmonds)

Even Nonnus in the Dionysiaca speaks constantly of Apollo's helplessness in the face of Hyacinthus' fate where he writes that the god still shivers if a westward wind blows upon an iris:

and when Zephyros breathed through the flowery garden, Apollo turned a quick eye upon his young darling, his yearning never satisfied; if he saw the plant beaten by the breezes, he remembered the quoit, and trembled for fear the wind, so jealous once about the boy, might hate him even in a leaf...

(Nonnus, Dionysiaca, Book 3. trans Rouse)

And the point here is just that - Apollo, at least as far as I've read, cannot avert someone's death. He simply can't. Once they're already dead - once Fate has cut their string - all Apollo's power is gone and he can do nothing no matter how much he wants to. And this is, as far as I know, supported with the accounts of Asclepius as well!

Since you specifically brought up Ovid's account, I'll also stick only to Ovid's account but in Metamorphoses when we get Ovid's version of Coronis' demise, he writes that Apollo intensely and immediately regrets slaughtering Coronis. He regrets it so intensely that he, like he does with Hyacinthus, does his best to resuscitate her:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo's regret)

And like Hyacinthus, when it becomes clear that what has happened cannot be undone, Apollo wails:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo wept.)

Unlike his mother, Asclepius in her womb had not yet died and so, with the last of Apollo's strength, he does manage, at least, to save him.

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo puts the 'tearing out' in Asclepius.)

But it goes further than even that because Ocyrhoe, Chiron's daughter, a prophetess who unduly gained the ability to directly proclaim the secrets of the Fates, upon seeing the baby Asclepius, immediately prophesies his glory, his inevitable death and then his fated ascension:

(Ovid. Metamorphoses, Book Two. Ocyrhoe's prophecy. trans Johnston)

Before she too succumbs to her hubris and is transformed by the Fates into a horse so she can no longer speak secrets that aren't hers to share.

These things ultimately are important because it establishes two very important things: 1) Apollo can't do anything in the face of the ultimate Fate of mortals, which is, of course, death and 2) even when Apollo is Actively Devastated, regretful, yearning, mournful, guilty or some unholy combination of all of the above, when someone is dead, he accepts that they are gone. Even if he is devastated by it, even if he'll cry all the rest of his days about it - if they're dead? Apollo lets them go. In Fasti, when Zeus brings Asclepius back, he does not say Apollo asked him to - Zeus, or well, in this case Jove, brings Asclepius back because he wants Apollo to stop being mad at him.

(Ovid, Fasti VI. Apollo please come home your father misses you. trans. A.S Kline)

Even Boyle's translation which you used above in your findings hints that Zeus made Asclepius a god because he wanted Apollo to stop grieving. (i.e 'smile at your father', 'for your sake [he] undoes his prohibitions')

And like, Apollo was deeply upset by Asclepius' death - apart from killing the Cyclops in anger, in book 4 of the Argonautica, Apollonius writes that the Celts believe the stream of Eridanus to be the tears Apollo shed over the death of Asclepius when he left for Hyperborea after being chastised by Zeus for killing his Cyclops:

But the Celts have attached this story to them, that these are the tears of Leto's son, Apollo, that are borne along by the eddies, the countless tears that he shed aforetime when he came to the sacred race of the Hyperboreans and left shining heaven at the chiding of his father, being in wrath concerning his son whom divine Coronis bare in bright Lacereia at the mouth of Amyrus.

It all paints a very clear picture to me. Apollo did not ask for either of them to be brought back. Though bringing them back certainly pleased and delighted him, they are actions of other gods who are moved by Apollo's grief and mourning and seek to mollify him. Him not asking doesn't mean he didn't want them back which I think is a very important distinction by the by, but it simply means that Apollo knows the natural order of things and, even if it hurts, he isn't going to press his luck about it.

Which, of course, brings us to Admetus. And I'm really not going to overcomplicate this, Admetus is different because, very vitally, Admetus is not dead. Apollo can't do a thing once Fate has been carried out and Death has claimed a mortal but you know what he absolutely can do? Bargain like hell with the Fates before that point of inevitability. And that's what he does, ultimately for Admetus and Alcestis. He sought to prolong Admetus' life, not revive him from death or absolve him from death altogether and even after getting the Fates drunk, he's still only able to organise a sacrifice - a life for a life - something completely contingent on whether some other mortal would be willing to die in Admetus' place and not at all controllable by Apollo's own power.

All of these things, I think come back to that point you made - that Apollo's place as a god of order is very important and therefore these people are very special to him if it means he's willing to go against that order but, I also wish to challenge that opinion if you'd let me. Apollo's place as a god of order is very important and therefore, I would argue, that it is even more important that it is shown that he does not break the divine order, especially for the people that mean the most to him. The original context of my comments which started this conversation were on this lovely, lovely post by @hyacinthusmemorial which contemplated upon Asclepius from the perspective of an Emergency Medical personnel and included, in their tags, the very poignant lines "there's something about Apollo letting go when Asclepius couldn't that eats my heart away" and "you do what you can, you do your best, but you don't ever reach too far" and I think that's perfectly embodied with the Apollo-Asclepius dichotomy. Apollo grieves. He wails, he cries, he does his best each and every time to save that which is precious to him but he does not curse their nature, he does not resent that they are human and ultimately, he accepts that that which is mortal must inevitably die. There is nothing that so saliently proves that those who uphold rules are also their most staunch followers - if Apollo wants to delight in his place as Fate's mouthpiece, he cannot undo Fate. And, if even the god of healing and order himself cannot undo death, what right does Asclepius, mortal as he is, talented as he is, have to disrespect it?

The beauty of these stories isn't that Apollo loved them enough to bring them back. The beauty is that Apollo loved them enough to let them go.

[k1tty5]

hello :D please tell me more about your mezalian (is that how you spell it??) smalletho I will forever be indebted to you

(they are gorgeous I love them sm)

hey hi !! it would be my pleasure … (and I’ve been spelling it mezalean ??? but i have no idea LOL. there might be a canon spelling but i havent watched joels esmp1 since… probably since it ended. i will have to check sometime)

apologizing in advance because i will probably get very ramble-y!!

ummm. Oh god. How to start. Lets see. WELL. In this silly little au (i guess it has become a bit more than just me doodling designs LOL) in my head they have like this sort of zelink dynamic? obviously without all the zelda lore & stuff, just that kind of … okay forgive me I haven’t brushed up on my zelink lore for a good many years but. Like the princess and her personal knight that doesn’t really talk much sort of thing.

this made more sense in my head. But yeah. They have the vibes of zelink ? At least if i remember zelink right, I have a really bad memory :’) not exactly the same, i do think etho talks to joel (whereas if iirc link never really talks) - especially after getting to know him a bit - but just. they have the Vibes. You know?

I reckon Joel’s definitely very into sculpting in this au, maybe dabbles a little in painting - I imagine mezalea to be very heavy on art and expression in general. think you’d especially see lots of pottery and textiles all around the place. He probably also has an interest in some form of like. um. whats the word. Some sort of … fighting. lmao. Specifically thinking of fencing, i had this idea in my head that he’s watched Etho practice outside the palace at some point and is just absolutely fascinated and enamored. by both the practice and etho himself haha.

and for etho… talented swordsman? he is Not washed. i dont really have many ideas for his character in this au To be completely honest, mostly just of his personality. Although, I alsooo think he’s probably not actually from mezalea? I like to draw him with those pointy elf ears, and i think mezaleans are just humans. I cant remember if thats canon or not but um. mezaleans have human ears, so i’d imagine etho’s probably from like.. rivendelle? Is that. What it’s called. The elf guys? Are they elves??? Goodness I cant remember. Grimlands would make sense too since i THINK they’re kind of like. technical engineer guys? but i dont know what species they are um so ,,, yeah,,,,

i think joel’s probably a bit put off by etho at first, mostly just because he’s not super enthused about the idea of a personal guard, but also because the guys a bit odd, you know? but he’s also probably suuuper intrigued by him. he wants to figure this new guy out, and when they start talking a bit more, i think. They are both incredibly charmed by the other. head over heels? possibly.

most of my ideas of this au are just little scenes that are cute and silly but dont follow any main plot. I would love to write some one-shots of some of the ideas i have in the future, but as of right now im experiencing a bout of creative burnout and am busy with the holidays - spending time with family, so… not right now lol!

hopefully this is what you wanted,,,, i tend to get very ramble-y when talking about literally anything, so i do apologize for that haha, i am Not good at explaining things in simple ways, as i’ve said many a time before.

[lynxfrost13]

Maybe I’ll finally Wanze post soon

[leelreallylikespersona]

Ryoji's parents are wild

Who should get the kids?

[sodarlo]

thinking about that one time someone asked me to be in a queer platonic relationship with them and I didn’t know what it was but agreed

technically we never talked about it again so I guess it’s still ongoing. fuck, do I need to reach out to them to break up????

[shima-draws]

have you ever had to deal with hate in a fandom if so how do you deal with it?

Hmm maybe be a little more specific? Do you mean hate in general or hate directed at me? Tbf I kinda deal with both in the same way lol and that is: the block button is your best friend!! If someone is being downright awful and toxic in your fandom space, or if you're getting hate messages for no reason, you don't have to deal with that. For me specifically I usually don't try to start shit (sometimes I do tho LOL without meaning to. If someone says smth nasty and I have a rebuttal there are times where I do answer back even tho it's probably best not to give haters any attention). Just block and move on. You get to curate your own fandom space, if smth makes you uncomfortable you don't have to put up with it. Just make sure it's not YOU that's being the asshole. People will call you out for that and sometimes you need to hear it. (It's happened to me more than once.)

Also keep in mind that not everyone will agree with you, and that's okay! I've had my fair share of disputes bc of ships or opinions or whatever else, and that's just bc people like different things, or have differing opinions. It's impossible to get everyone to agree with you, or for you to agree with everyone else. And that's how it SHOULD be :")

Just take care of yourself out there! Block people who are rude or make you uncomfy, be respectful when someone challenges your opinion, and have fun!!

Basically this is my philosophy LMAO

[3416]

thinking about "mitch will assault me if i don't pick him" again.... i circle back to it all the time but it's like..... auston KNOWS how he feels about being left out and will always tease him for it but ALSO wouldn't dream of not including him anyway ...as if it were a given that mitch will always be his pick.......... his face when he says it too. i will never get over how relaxed he seems and i will NEVER stop wanting the mitch and auston leaf to leaf we are OWED. it is so long overdue, how do the leafs not understand this

[kelin-is-writing]

Hi, I know you hate endevour and his fans..but whay if people like him because of his psycholgy, he is an intresting character..

Honestly, I hate Endeavor but I don’t really care if peoples likes him or not; y’all can like whatever characters you want, it’s really none of my business at the end of the day.

What I don’t like and find embarrassing, it’s rude fans that come into my inbox disguised as Anonymous only to attack me because I hold him accountable for things he has in fact done and for supporting his victims, while not caring about what happens to him.

I mean— Why do you care if 1 out of billion other fans doesn’t like Endeavor (for fair reasons)? It’s just like when bullies in middle school hate on someone for their looks. Like, the other person is allegedly “ugly” and you get mad on a personal level because of it? Very questionable behavior.

If you find him an interesting character, that’s totally fine. I don’t really have any say in it, because patronizing a total stranger is a weird and narcissistic behavior that I won’t engage in.

I just personally don’t like Endeavor nor I think he’s an interesting character, since I don’t really like nor him nor peoples who are like him irl, this because of personal reasons that I won’t disclose on here. It’s really just this 👐🏼