#the point is it feels distant

[coin-z3fs]

After the 15-year timeskip, Aaron feels guilty every time he looks at Dante because the longing in his eyes won't go away, so he keeps helping Nana with anything and everything as a nonverbal apology. He'd help her bake, go out and pick fruits for her, play with Nekoette more, anything as long as he can communicate how sorry he is that he can't let go of Dante, even if Nana doesn't know.

It gets so bad to the point he doesn't even want to be in the near vicinity of Dante. Aaron would sense the guards' footsteps or hear his voice and immediately runs for it.

He hates how he still loves him.

[novorehere]

Fellow non-sexual vore enjoyers in their mid-twenties and older… are you out there…

[fumifooms]

do you happen to have that page that talks about the beauty standards of each race?

Yeah sure. While scavenging pics for this I found this neat reddit compilation & chart & theory talk too. I had um, way more to say than I anticipated (I know you only wanted the one page. I have nothing to say for myself. Like most topics in Dunmeshi things snowball because they’re so interconnected. Mercy…) so, many races and observations are only mentioned near the bottom.

Beauty standards and race in Dungeon Meshi

Not pictured there’s also how elven society is harsh on visibly disabled people, and how the demon took away Mithrun’s silver eyes and ears to take away his pride. There’s also how Senshi might have fit in with the orcs more easily because of the dwarven wide body shape, and how they tend to have more body hair too I suppose. In the extra on orcs we see Senshi living with the orcs and he gets judged because of the hierarchy rather than his looks.

What is fashionable also differs from culture to culture, and there’s how tattoos only seem common with elves, though dwarves and others do also sometimes have some. They seem to not raise much brows, which makes sense since for many essentially they’re for professional (magical) purposes especially with elves. Gender roles also differ in type and importance, but generally they are similar to irl ones for the races we see. Elven society seems to be the least gendered, which would be an unsurprising logical outcome of having lesser sexual dimorphism aka they look more androgynous. Comparing fashions and gender roles and how they affect beauty standards would be a whole other compilation and conversation. Kui has great worldbuilding partially because she’s got such a good grasp on sociopolitics and geopolitics. History affects cultures and beauty standards greatly. Kui’s oneshot Distant Utopia was very eye opening on her way to worldbuild and the consideration she gives these things, I do really recommend reading it.

Out of the big 5, we know the least about gnomes, but their sheet does say both culture and region are similar to dwarves’ and they end up being confused together often, so we can imagine the beauty standards are similar to dwarves’ as well.

I wanted to touch on this in a post eventually, but how one daydream hour page said half-foots tended to be curvaceous like in the artwork below puzzled me for a long time, all the half-foot characters we see during canon are rather slender and lanky after all, Chil’s succubi also being more curvy than plump. Economics are for sure a factor in that I imagine, the half-foots characters we see are all implied to be some flavor of poor or malnourished, as are half-foots depicted as empoverished oppressed minorities in general. Even comparing the artwork with the half-foot sheet’s depicted average half-foot, the ones on the left seem bigger. Wouldn’t it make sense though, if unlike dwarves half-foots don’t have similar naturally wide bodies, yet due to idolizing dwarves they work towards having a similar body shape/type to emulate them?

It’s said half-foots tend to stick to pretty ethnically homogeneous regions (aka half-foots-only communities) unless they move to the big city with ambition to try and make it big (like Chilchuck and his wife & kids did), and that’s interesting imo because then that would mean that in a ton of half-foot communities, they rarely see or interact with dwarves whom they try to emulate. Of course, one thing about beauty standards is that when they get adopted, at one point it stops being "this is how dwarves look and so this is how half-foots should look" and just becomes "this is how half-foots should look", most people feel as though beauty standards aren’t learned but innate, so I figure the half-foots wouldn’t have any problem still seeking dwarvish traits when there are no dwarves around.

There’s also stuff you can glean here and there if you want to extrapolate more. Like how in the race swap artworks, Mickbell is only smiling in the dwarf portrait, and Rin’s elven portrait looks very close to her elven one- Rin who is stated to be beautiful in her profile blurb. Benichidori’s extra does teach us tallmen can definitely have harsh beauty standards, but also since the text portrays her as very dysmorphic that’s likely reflected in her thoughts to a much more intense degree than is common, not an accurate strict baseline to go off. Ah, Kabru’s blue eyes are also why he and his mother lived a rough life in Kabru’s hometown, but that seems to be regional. Good post here on the topic of Kabru’s blue eyes and ties to irl history. There’s a lot to be said about Kabru being a man that in many ways is close to elven beauty standards, and how that might have affected or been affected by his upbringing with elves + his persona as someone that can effortlessly charm most people. Marcille’s section here in this essay also goes into Marcille’s struggles to fit in with the ideal image of an elf.

Looking human

Also notable are beastkins and demihumans: Demihumans are all dehumanized which makes people treat them worse. So if you differ from the visual idea of "human" (an in-world subjective categorization just as much as demihuman is) most people do judge you negatively. Elves and dwarves get to fight about which type of human is considered the prettiest, but demihumans are below tallmen and half-foots, they are considered as simply below the beauty contest, incompatible with it.

Onis are perhaps the demihuman people we know of with the least cultural influence on the dunmeshi world, and with the least intensely different appearance than other demihumans—they seem to be technically categorized as human to people not from the eastern archipelago?— but even them are treated as lesser than human, treated as beasts to slain for reputation points or useful strength to have around and command. It’s said their "magnificient horns" and fangs are often shaven off when the oni lives in tallman towns, so you could easily make the argument that onis are denied the right to have their own beauty standards, having to conform to other people’s and going through mutilation to take away features they might otherwise have taken pride in. Inutade was bought by the Nakamotos from a dangerous sumo fighting ring that got one of Inutade’s tooth broken on her first and only fight, and kept as a low ranking servant ever since. Remember when I said different fashions existed in dunmeshi and how those could also affect beauty standards? Like the elves, if you look at the portraits pages which include a lot of characters that aren’t in the story you can see distinct cultures within the same races, for example one young elf is bald which is in sharp contrast with the usual elven long luscious hairstyles, and that’s especially true for onis I think. Maybe not only from different regions but different eras as well… They have a bit of population in the very north of the western continent, so I like to think some of the ogres live in very cold, maybe even subarctic or arctic conditions. The point I’m getting at here is that within a race, culture/ethnicity like with Kabru will also influence them it isn’t just tallmen as a whole, different communities will have differing beauty standards. The oni history blurb and third row first collumn portrait remind me of Mongolia (which historically was a lot of different nomadic communities with different cultural identities as well. Something something, the oni empire experienced a decline and then tallmen overpowered them, and now they’re governed and split apart by stronger social classes & slavers and the richness of culture was hurt for it especially if they have no real community left of their own), but obviously many of them are dressed and look rather japanese, makes sense considering living in/close to Wa, and first row second collumn portrait reminds me of ainus which again would be logical considering geographical placement, though I’m far from an expert. Interestingly, ainus are indigenous people both in Japan and Russia- Perhaps the northern western continent ogres are meant to be closer to Russia than Canada like I imagined? Ok tangent over.

The kobold sheet says they’re especially sought after as slaves because they’re "adorable", but locally in the western continent they’re repeatedly said to be seen more as ferocious and dangerous. The dehumanization is most apparent in the first comic below. The language barrier and conflicts no doubt worsen this by a lot, but I think it’d be hard to deny that their canine appearance makes the dehumanization worse. "They’re ferocious beasts, they’re demihumans, they can’t be communicated with". Most characters in Dungeon Meshi’s world are desensitized to slavery and most characters are prejudiced one way or another. Point being, kobolds are fully removed from human beauty standards, but no doubt for kobolds, other kobolds are more beautiful than humans are. They’re assumed to be an uncivilized bunch, but just like any other people they like to adorn themselves with nice clothes and jewelry and keep themselves clean and groomed; they too take care of their appearance and take pride in it.

And the orcs! This one we have the most contact with in canon, with not only there being foreigner characters from the ethnicity or hearsay of their homelands and culture but full on contact with a community. We get to see up close what they’re like and what they think, and of course in turn they’re our introduction to how demihumans are harshly looked down upon and seen as inferior, less human and thus less worth valuing and less dignified. It’s text that orcs are ugly to most humans and humans are ugly to most orcs. Since I judged they didn’t need accompanying explanation the pictures showing this are in the pictures dump at the top.

God forbid you sell vegetables to orcs my god- but then again they do basically mandate adventurers to kill any orcs they come across so yeah the world isn’t above that even a little bit.

So yes, my main point here is simply that orcs are yet another evidence of the physical ideal of "human" being an important beauty standard for human societies globally.

Izutsumi is our glimpse at how beastkins are treated in the world, and in Wa at least that’s ending up being caged and mistreated as part of a freak show. Izutsumi hates her appearance and wishes she could leave the feline part of herself behind to only be human. Interestingly, not that we have a lot of info on them so this is very much a take with a grain of salt situation, but there seems to be less stigma around artificial beastmen, those who can shapeshift at will. The main difference is of course appearance, that most of the time they simply look like average tattooed humans. Artificially creating humans is an illegal practice, and no doubt it’s not well regarded, but being able to hide that makes them less likely to be discriminated at any moment, or even just discriminated less intensely. Again, looking human is important, not only for belonging but for safety’s sake. Beauty standards rule the world with harsh hands.

Mermaids and fishmen

Ok we’re done now right? Right-! But wait… Wait…! Mermaids and fishmen are said to be demihumans too, special separate cases to the main three demihuman species however, which is also represented by how mermaids and fishmen both are in the Adventurer’s Bible chapter Monsters meanwhile ogres, kobolds and orcs are in the chapter World. They’re an interesting topic because they directly tackle this topic, not only in a meta way for the readers but also making characters themselves struggle to quantify their humanity with the goal of knowing wether they should be eaten or not, especially Chilchuck. Chilchuck’s "is it really just a matter of feelings?" mini arc.

The party asking themselves "Should we eat this?" is very common, and often they end up playing a little loose on morality, like eating the red dragon’s meat despite it having digested Falin. Not unsimilarly Marcille freaks out a little over the vegetables they harvested having been grown with fertilizer, aka largely human poo. Half of the motivation of "should we eat this perhaps sentient creature" is out of consideration and compassion, but more strongly and more often, the characters struggle with a sense of taboo at eating something too closely related to humans. Even, feel uncomfortable because of the deepseated impression that eating it would dirty them in some way. Cannibalism is an interesting and relevant topic in many ways, but what I want to mention is how there’s the more or less universal belief that committing cannibalism inherently taints you as a person and turns you more monstrous, morally but also literally depending on some myths such as w*ndigos and onis in some cases, like in Touge Oni. Marcille and Izutsumi both express a fear of eating monsters turning them monstrous. Maybe this is part of what Laios was hoping for, honestly. There are two fears here, if eating a demihuman monster constitutes as cannibalism or not, and so, will eating it taint you because it’s a human, or will eating it taint you because it’s a monster? You are what you eat, until it’s a little too literal. You morally are the means by which you get your food, and you physically are the result of your nutrition. Dungeon meshi manages to mix an exploration of humanity with the theme of food because our relationship to food is very deep and complex, psychological as much as physiological.

In the end, the characters sort of shrug and accept that they’ll never quite understand the world of mermaids and fishmen and how they operate, and what that means about them. Laios is the one always challenging these notions other characters take for granted, it’s not obvious to Laios why people are softer on mammals than other animals and plants, it’s not obvious to Laios why people would be afraid of eating a monster just because it’s a monster, it’s not obvious to Laios why some food is gross to Marcille but not fish testicles, it’s not obvious to Laios why you should immediately regard orcs and kobolds badly.

"Cows are probably closer to humans [aka closer to being human] than fishmen, though they’re clearly intelligent", dehumanization to lessen empathy towards them to be able to eat them. Meanwhile, mermaids seemingly have a less noticeable "civilization" or intelligence, they hunt in groups like fishmen, but they don’t use tools and such, they feel more primal and similarly instinct driven, and yet… Do they attract sympathy more? Mammals, humans, is it because of their nature or because of their appearance?

Both the nature and appearance of fish are ones people don’t typically sympathize with. "Fish don’t feel pain", "goldfish only have 5 seconds of memory", "it’s okay to keep fish in completely empty bowls too small for them until they die from it", so many lies and misconceptions exist that make people less considerate of them. The average lifespan of a goldfish is 10-15 years, the record is 43, but they’re not seen as lives that really matter, so a lot of goldfish die in a few weeks of bad aquarium conditions. There’s a lot of research on animals evolving to look cute and appealing to make some predators want to kill them less and parents want to care for them more, including humans. First good google research result gave me this credible short article on the topic. In Chilchuck’s weighing wether a fishman is far enough from being human or not to eat, "face is 100% fish" is his biggest argument for it being more acceptable. The face, the most important thing for empathy and recognition. The face, the decapitated fishman one that falls into his hands next chapter.

To quote @room-surprise: "Chilchuck can't explain why it's wrong to eat the merpeople, even though it's NOT complicated. But the problem is Chilchuck would have to accept and acknowledge that the merpeople might be people? And that's outside of the worldview he passively believes, so he can't just say that, because he doesn't think that's true. But that IS why he "feels" it's wrong. And it's all you'd need to say for Laios to understand! But it would require acknowledging that maybe the way they're treating and talking about the merpeople is wrong."

The idea of Chil not being able to grapple with how maybe some monsters are more humans than they seem, him who had been an advocate of half-foots rights, half-foots who get undermined and treated as inconsequential sacrifices… Grappling with how he could relate to the merpeople’s situation almost, and pulling away because it’s so existentially horrifying. I do not want to see myself into an hostile fish-faced warrior I can’t communicate with. In a way this also relates to Chilchuck being the only party member who doesn’t see Izutsumi as a cat in the relationship chart, the only one to treat her with full human dignity. He knows the struggle to be taken seriously, he knows being infantilized and he knows what it’s like to be treated as less than human.

Below, you will see Chilchuck draws the line of where they become not okay to eat as when "they already look like mermaids". Above, there’s speculation that the algae hair is partly to mimic "the mermaids’ beautiful female form". Is it because mermaids are their enemies and the ambiguity might give them extra seconds to attack or flee? Is it to trick adventurers instead? It’s striking to me that this is what works, with the adventurers. Sure the fishmen are intelligent, but explicitly here, what makes them no longer acceptable prey to Chilchuck is that they look close enough to a mermaid, close enough to human. Mermaids who of course themselves have this form to entice and seduce and charm the adventurers they prey on. Chilchuck considers the intelligence due to the tridents, but most of his internal debate centers around their appearance, and the image of a fishman skewered sickens him. The power of mimicry… Mimic being a beautiful human woman. Mimic being cute, babies being wired to make us feel protective and softened. Half-foots, sometimes pretending to be children for scams or help or avoiding trouble.

The mermaids are only concerned by their differences and not their similarities, and have no trouble treating the fishmen as food rather than peers. To an outside perspective like us, the audience, all these categorization of "more human" and "less human" between onis and orcs and elves and tallmen etc seem stupid and unfounded, but to the people living in Dungeon Meshi’s world, elves may as well be mermaids while onis are fishmen, not alike at all, unworthy of empathy and thus fine to eat.

Ultimately, Dungeon Meshi promotes unity. It’s about seeking to understand the unknown and the misunderstood, the dehumanized and the inhuman. It shows the good that comes from seeking to understand what you do not, even when that’s one another.

[feroluce]

I've only recently started having my own thoughts about Emanator!Sampo and I think my favorite version of this is that he is technically an Emanator, it's just that he doesn't talk about it because Aha is a dick who only blesses people that don't want it and Sampo hates it here dkjxkdkdck

Aha blessed the Mourning Actors! A whole faction of people who have specifically made it their life's mission to resist Elation! THEY made a literal worm THEIR Emanator just to see if it would be accepted into the Genius Society! And when it wasn't, Aha just as easily killed it and tossed it aside! So I feel like there is a good possibility that Aha looked down at Sampo, this little oddball who doesn't seem to even like Epsilon or a lot of the Masked Fools and was like.

Hey.

You know what would be really really funny.

And I feel like being an Emanator wouldn't even be a plus for Sampo, because of how he operates. Sampo excels at blending in; he managed to smuggle himself onto a planet

that had been isolated for 700 years,

with only one (1) single city on it,

and going even further, he snuck himself into the Underground,

where the population is even more sparse,

and STILL. Not a single accusation of him being an alien! Not even after the Astral Express lands and proves that interstellar space travel is possible! Sampo is so thoroughly ingrained into Belobog that yeah, some people admit they don't know his origins, but none of it ever comes with the question of whether he actually is a Belobog native or not. Sampo knows exactly how to blend himself into his surroundings in the most subtle way possible. And being an Emanator, something far more powerful than any normal human or Pathstrider could ever hope to be, would only throw in a massive extra variable for him. Sampo would have to be so so careful to keep a lid on his Emanator traits, to keep up the appearance of being totally normal and average at all times. It doesn't help him at all.

And this part is pure indulgence, but I love taking Aha's closeness with mortals, and THEIR tendency to take human form, and twisting it into a case of THEM using Sampo as a vessel.

I want Aha to look at Sampo the same way all of us look at Sampo. A chew toy. A plaything. Something to shove through the meat grinder. Aha thinks Sampo is hilarious and a funny, silly little guy, and THEY want to put him in Situations just to see what he does. Sampo is not a fan.

This though, this is what makes Sampo so wildly entertaining as a vessel. Because Aha knows that Sampo does not want to be a vessel, does not even want to be an Emanator, and THEY find it SO much fun to watch the mental gymnastics he has to pull to convince himself he's ok with it, this is fine actually, because he's not exactly about to tell off a literal god. He doesn't feel like getting a smiting today, please and thank you.

Because squeezing yourself into a human vessel is so different than merely adopting a human disguise, there's already a human soul in there, it's kind of a tight fit. If Sampo doesn't make room, doesn't all but dissociate right out of his own body, it could cause. Consequences.

And so, Aha always gives a warning, just to watch him squirm.

It begins with the sound of bells.

Just little ones, at first. Small, clinking little sounds that could even be considered nice. Something almost gentle, like a wind chime in a pleasant breeze on a warm day. This is the signal for the countdown.

Sampo breathes in, breathes out. Makes himself as small as possible within his own body.

The bells rise and multiply, tinkling wind chimes give way to sleigh bells, to shopkeepers bells, the sound of something inevitable approaching, something entering.

Sampo breathes in, breathes out. Dilutes himself, weaker and weaker concentrations.

The bells rise and rise, multiply and multiply, celebration and tragedy resonating in the sound of church bells, ringing bright and loud, the sounds of weddings and funerals both the same.

Sampo breathes in, breathes out. Becomes like smoke, like vapor. Hollows himself out.

Empty, empty, empty until he echoes, like a bell, like something with the sole purpose of being shaken and rattled around, a thing to be struck, the sounds jarring and punched out and gasping and piercing the air, the lung, the eardrum.

Sampo breathes in.

Beaten he rings, bashed in he sings.

Aha breathes out.

[gingermintpepper]

“Your hair’s gotten longer.” 

It’s conscious effort that keeps him from tucking the strands behind his ear, from taking the knife at his hip and shearing it all off. He keeps his stance focused, attentive, there’s little else he can do when he’s taken so completely after his mother when it comes to his hair. His father scratches his chin, the clouds of his beard snaking about his finger like mist parting for mountain-peaks. Ares’ chin is still child-smooth. He can feel the tickle of his over-long fringe against his soft jaw. There’s no heart in his chest, but still he feels as though a pulse is lodged in his throat. 

Father sighs, put-upon, disappointed, and Ares feels a slight tremor start in his calves from holding himself so tense. “Well done, Ares. Go clean yourself up and get some rest. Phoebus will want to look you over later.” 

He should be ecstatic to be praised by his father. Over-the-moon with joy. There should be pride emanating from every pore of his body, the blood on his skin should be sweeter than ambrosia. 

Instead, he bows, manages a soft ‘thank you, Father’ around the lump in his throat and immediately flees the room. A mild ‘make sure to trim your hair’ hits the back of his head like a spear through the skull. He almost wishes the great door had slammed on his foot so he would have reason to feel this horrid in his retreat.  

Phoebus Apollo is waiting for him in his infirmary. 

He’s gilded as ever, gold from crown to heel. Perfect like the statues they carve of him in his temples. He has a smile for Ares when he sees him, a crinkle at the edges of his pretty eyes from the weight of his joy. Ares is waiting to see the crack in the marble, to see if that’s the chip that’ll reveal his fangs.

“Brother,” he greets, and his voice is warm - like the arms that embrace him, his voice is so warm, “Welcome back. I’ve heard you’ve done well.”  

There’s a tremble in Ares’ fingers he hadn’t noticed before. Strain from carrying his sword for so many days, a throb from wounds he hadn’t noticed he’d accrued. “Heard? There’s already gossip?” 

Phoebus blinks, disarming, demure, coquettish, “But of course,” and Phoebus’ voice is honey to Ares’ gravel, the juxtaposition is grating on his skin, “It’s Olympus. The gossip began long before you set your course.” Those warm hands lead him further into the room, bodily sits him on the chaise, pulls his helmet from his head. It’s all one, unbroken motion, “It’s summer alas, so I could not watch your war myself, but I hear it was quite the decisive victory.” 

A thousand thoughts run on horseback through his mind then. 

Did Father overhear some terrible slander that pre-emptively disappointed him? Was Ares’ victory merely a rumour, a bet his father hadn’t bothered to take? Was the gossip more enticing than the stark truth? That Ares wasn’t some child toddling about in the shadow of his sister, that his sword and spear weren’t merely for show - he’d think such a thing would warrant celebration. Not -

“Oh my,” Phoebus is in front of him, pleasant warmth more sticky heat with how close he’s pressed himself into Ares’ space. From this angle, Ares can see the multi-coloured flecks of his eyes, like shards of golden glass suspended in ichor. From this angle, with his hand so gently holding his hair, were Ares to blink too hard, he’d swear Phoebus looked just like his mother. “Your hair’s grown long again.” 

He pushes Phoebus off with such force that he bangs into the wall. It’s Phoebus, it won’t make even the impression of a scratch on him, but Ares wishes it would. Wishes he’d hit his shoulder or crack his neck or hit his head just hard enough for all that perfect, gilded gold to bleed. 

“I’m only here for you to heal me,” the tremble in his hand extends to his shoulder now. He flexes and unflexes his palm. Gods what he would give to just have a sword - “Don’t waste time with the pleasant-work.” 

Phoebus huffs, adjusts the fit of his himation, “...Only because we’re meant to be celebrating your victory.” He crosses the room in two great strides, his hair a swirling tempest behind him as he gathers his poultices and wraps. “The only reason I’ll not throw you from the window is because we are meant to be celebrating your victory.”  

There’s not enough acid in his tone for this to truly be a fight. Ares’ jaw clenches, he bites out a terse, “How benevolent.” 

“Aren’t I?” He’s got nectar and his sutures in hand, that focused look falling upon his face when he switches from overbearing busybody to Paeon of the Gods. “Now strip unfaltering Ares, let us see the measure of damage done to your indomitable flesh.” 

(Somewhere between the fifth set of stitches and the gentle frown that crosses Phoebus’ face when he notices the persistent tremble in his fingers, Ares pins his eyes to the far wall and asks, “What does it mean when Father says ‘well done’?” 

Any other sibling would mock before they gave a true response. Any other sibling would laugh and dismiss it, would say that praise is praise and any lingering ill feeling is just the worst of the war still fogging his mind. Phoebus does not answer immediately. He doesn’t make a single sound. The question settles like fetid water between them, unignorable, the scent right there on the tip of the tongue yet firmly unacknowledged. Ares closes his eyes and tries again to settle his squirming so he does not interfere with Phoebus’ work.  The metallic snip of scissors cutting thread breaks the silence. Phoebus bids him to sit up and slides his warm palms up his back until his fingers tangle gently in the ends of his hair. He twists the dark red strands until he’s gathered it all into a neat handful, holding it loosely as he switches his scissors for his shearing blade. “You should know it was not praise,” Phoebus says softly. The first of Ares cut hairs fall like viscera from his head. Phoebus treats each cutting with the sacredness of a blood-sacrifice. If he focused on the moment of tension right before the blade cuts though, Ares thinks he can imagine the agony of his sister’s sacred birth. “It is acknowledgement. Father thinks you’ve done well so he says ‘well done’.”

Gently, Phoebus releases him. Ruffles his head so all the extra hairs fall like red rain to the floor. Ares runs his fingers through the ends now curling against his ear. “Has he ever told you ‘well done’?” 

A laugh, warm and gilded, “No, and it would not make you feel better if he had.” 

Ares swallows down a thousand different questions. Phoebus wouldn’t answer them, he’s infuriating like that. Instead, he clenches his teeth, the phantom of Father’s dizzying tangle of grey cloud-hairs persistent in the corner of his eyes. “Cut it shorter.”

Phoebus doesn’t protest. He never seems to say a word when it really matters.)

[mohntilyet]

Personal headcanon about the "you picked the wrong dellamorte" line, I don't think illario actually likes rook outside the context of them being someone close to lucanis. Like rook on their own isn't much to him, but when they meet it's yet another person talking about his cousin (why isn't he good enough for whatever job they're hiring for?) and on top of that they somehow bring him back from the dead (another whole can of worms for illario). Now he starts turning on the charm, but whether he's actually interested or this is just one more thing his cousin has that he doesn't and it gets under his skin, who knows. Either way, rook ignores illario, the guy who lives off his charm, and is instead interested in the guy who's never even dated before and thinks giving someone a knife is how to flirt. Infuriating

NO THANK YOU !! i am genuinely sorry if i have ever implied illario is into rook like i see some takes about it and unless it like ties into your rook's personal backstory i don't seriously think he's romantically jealous. at all. my enjoyment of that line stems from illario's pathological need to make it about himself and not see his strengths but what lucanis has, and therefore what he doesn't. he's annoyed enough to try and goad you in the middle of a fight about the 'wrong' dellamorte and completely blind to the fact that the venatori are at best, a stupid fucking alliance, and at worst, a cult that will devour the crows from the inside out and illario would have been the one to give them the keys. he sees lucanis make allies, needs his own, and instead of charming the other talons/houses as he should, he (probably spitefully) picks the venatori. or maybe he just thought it would be easier. ugh he makes me want to telekenetically throw him around

[heyclickadee]

This is based on nothing but vibes and the fact that Crosshair hasn’t actually been there for most of Omega’s development, and therefore hasn’t seen what a tiny little badass she’s turned into, but: unlike the other four guys, who have mostly settled into the idea that Omega is definitely a child and needs to be looked after in that regard, but that she’s also extremely capable and can handle herself pretty well, Crosshair would be a bit stuck in his own overdone version of “baby cannot be in any danger ever” mode for a while. Like

Omega: *hanging off the marauder’s tow cable*

Crosshair: Why is Omega hanging off the ship?

Wrecker: Oh, she does that sometimes. It’s fun!

Crosshair: It’s. What?

Or

Omega: —and then I jumped off the platform and pulled that droid with me—

Crosshair: The platform…above the lava pit?

Omega: Yeah!! It was a long way down, too!! But I knew Hunter would catch me, so—

Crosshair: *has to walk away so he can privately scream into the void*

Or

Crosshair: That’s an interesting weapon. How do you set it to stun?

Omega: Set it to stun??

Crosshair: …

Crosshair: HUNTER?!?

Hunter: Hmm??

Crosshair: SeT iT tO sTuN??!??!

[nevlartery]

28. Terror

[ID: A black and white sketch of Damian as Robin petting a cat on a doorstep]

[skrunksthatwunk]

landing

[pjharvey]

it actually really scares me how much of a different person i am than i was five or even three years ago but i think thats probably what being 23 is supposed to feel like

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Lockjaw

YA horror

set in a small town, where a boy died tragically in an old abandoned mill

a group of 11yos on bikes are determined to find the monster and hunt it down - while facing the monsters and prejudices haunting their small town

and some teens, including one of the kids’ sister, a genderqueer guy who tried to get out of town but was drawn back, a homeless trans guy and his dog, and the police captain’s son who get drawn into the web of it all against their will

shifting timelines and perspectives from various kids and residents of the town (plus the dog)

[nashvillethotchicken]

Louis acting more traditionally masculine, aggressive and angry ways in Paris coinciding with his realization that he hasn't had real control over his life in 77 years because of armand

[lemm-moxx]

Stupid silly goofy idea, Someone's body temp lowers the higher their lv gets

[spongebob-connoisseur]

I forgot to share but a friend of mine gave me Slappy's character sheet!

I had it for a while but I wasn't sure if I was allowed to share it around, they said it was fine so I'm sharing here (and also I shared it with the author of The Animated Peter Lorre so if you've seen this before then that's why)

I was so happy that I actually cried <3 For years I said I would sell my organs for Slappy's character sheet and now I have it! I printed it out immediately and framed it above my desk so I could always look at it <3 (I also keep other copies scattered throughout) My bestie @froskii printed it out and ate the paper live on discord. I did blood rituals on it too! Overall we had a great time and I still have all of my organs in tact too!💞

Thank you kind stranger from the bottom of my heart!!!!!💞💞💞💞💞

[sammygender]

so many people can’t conceptualise emotional neglect as anything other than ‘my parents were cold and distant and never talked about feelings with me’, and this, while being just a general awful problem of course, is also what leads to so much john winchester mischaracterisation. in this essay i will

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

september 1, 2021 6:15 p.m. basil's restaurant

ten minutes ago

[ktmurphy86] i might be a few minutes late, but i'm almost there.

grant scrolls through the metric ton of messages piling up in his notifications until he reaches the very end, and with a lump in his throat, opens it to respond. or like it. or send a thumbs up like a cool cucumber.

baby steps, he tells himself. one task at a time. the responses to all the messages from family, friends, and former co-workers inquiring about his exam results will come later.

just meet your sister first and–

“you seem different.”

he nearly jumps out of his skin as kelly’s high-pitched voice supersedes his thoughts.

“hopefully in a good way,” grant replies, looking up as he slides his phone off the table and into his back pocket.

it’s been nearly a decade since their last encounter, and he’d still recognize her from a mile away.

kelly’s hair is dyed platinum blonde like always, but now it’s twice as long, and her natural brunette locks–peeking through at the root–are streaked through with shocks of silver. her ice blue eyes are just as piercing, only underlined with tiny wrinkles. she’s still thin, too, but rather rail thin; her sweater dress seems to wear her more than she wears it.

“yes, in a good way.” kelly pulls out the chair opposite him and sits down with her arms wrapped across her waist. the candle between them casts a strange yellow glow over her wiry features. “you look better, much healthier.”

“uh, thank you. you look great as well.”

she half-smiles. “it’s just hair dye and botox. i look old. i didn’t inherit the ageless ó súilleabháin genes, so i'm going grey very early like all the callahans. by the way, you weren’t waiting long, were you?”

“oh, no, no, not at all. i have my car, but i didn’t want to deal with traffic, so i took the subway, but then that also kind of took a while. i pretty much just got here.”

“okay, good.” kelly pauses for a moment, her lips pursed. “well. i thought about what i'd say to you the whole ride over here, and now it’s all gone.”

for a moment, they exchange no other words. they drown in the silence, staring into each other’s eyes and into the past.

she’s surprisingly warm, all things considered. the last time they’d been in the same room–

grant is distracted again from his thoughts, watching as a strange sadness falls across her face. she reaches up at the collar of her dress and tug at it like it’s choking her, and her eyes then drift away to stare at an indistinct point on the table between them.

“it’s weird to see you again,” she admits suddenly, her gaze still fixated far away from him, “i didn’t think you’d message me back a few months ago.”

“to be honest, i didn’t mean to. i replied by accident one night and then just decided to follow through with talking to you. and now i'm here. yeah. um, anyway, why’d you reach out to me?”

“i was on facebook a couple months ago, and one of those ‘look at what you posted this day years ago’ things came up. it was a picture aunt bridget tagged us all in. it was the whole family at one of your high school hockey games, i think your freshman year state championship game.” kelly shrugs. “i didn’t even know any of those pictures were still there. that was a real surprise, given i unfriended and blocked everyone i'm related to on there when i left home after high school.”

grant nods. “a picture of me probably very sweaty and gross with helmet hair made you want to reach out to me?”

“not quite. my kids were with me at the time. we were in an airport coming back from vacation, so they were bored and nosy. ‘is that you? who are all these people?’ i was then immediately caught in my lie; i'd been telling them their whole lives i had no family left, and their only extended family was their dad’s parents.”

“yikes. i'm sure that was awkward.”

“it was,” kelly says plainly, “my oldest kids weren’t happy with the news. they’ve been, um, a little jealous of their friends for having lots of cousins and big family events for the holidays, and it didn’t go over well when they figured out they do have a big family. besides, they rightfully did see it as a betrayal of their trust. if mom lied once, what else might mom be lying about? the tooth fairy? santa claus? the easter bunny? yes, those, too. sorry. also, if you didn’t already guess based on my new last name, i married jack, and…”

“i figured you married him. you’d already been together a really long time even when i last saw you. we all grew up together, and you guys were middle school and high school sweethearts and all.”

“he’s a good guy. as i was about to say, though, jack is very partial to you. he always liked you. he thought you were a sweet kid, and he won’t let me forget what happened between us. so, after the facebook incident, he encouraged me to contact you, if only for the kids’ sake. after living in a huge family, i don’t think it’s all that fantastic, but he has a bit of a chip on his shoulder being an only child, and he doesn’t want the kids to have no one besides his parents in their lives. don’t get me wrong; i will never ever get involved in callahan or ó súilleabháin bullshit again, but i will consider reconnecting with you and letting you meet the kids.”

grant bites into his lip as that nagging anxious lump returns to his throat. “well, why me? why bother getting involved with any of us again after everything? even if it is for your kids, what's your motivation?"

kelly outright ignores his question. “tell me what you’ve been up to for the last, what, eight years? nine years? i don’t remember how long it’s been. you're at least talking to our dad, i hear.”

"how do you know that?"

"my in-laws may not know anything else about you these days, but they've seen you with him around our hometown."