#this woman is a blessing to humanity tbh

[wordslikesilver]

I am once again thinking about Hoarah Loux, the only man Marika ever trusted and the only man she ever loved. It’s such an insane thing to think about the fact that the second last boss of Elden Ring is Some Guy. He is literally just A Human Man. Marika looks at this fucking raving barbarian man and decides to My Fair Lady him into a Lord like the deranged woman she is by assigning him a babysitter to perpetually gnaw on his neck whenever he’s in public. As insane as all that sounds, let’s break down that imagery a little because it’s actually really good! His babysitter is the king of beasts, a lion named Serosh, who digs his claws and his fangs into Hoarah Loux’s body to keep him suppressed and restrained enough in temperament to now be fit to be named Godfrey, The First Elden Lord of Queen Marika.

Serosh is frankly quite mysterious as far as what he actually is goes but as far as story themes go, he’s a really interesting symbol of lordship. The lion basically IS Godfrey’s crown, it’s what makes him Godfrey. The symbolism is essentially stating in a very overt way that this man is more savage than all the beasts of the world. In Elden Ring, beasts with five fingers indicate an enlightened or elevated intelligence, blessed by the greater will. It’s fascinating how it’s basically stating that Serosh is more intelligent, refined and noble than Hoarah Loux, that this man is more wild and savage than the greatest of all the beasts in the world. That only a beast king could teach this man to be a Lord. Godfrey can rip him apart anytime but he doesn’t. It takes more than strength of body to wear a crown and he knows it. He needs Serosh to honour and do right by Marika. He is showing his opponents a courtesy, as he puts it. Morgott takes after his example and so too is Radahn inspired by him. It’s really wonderful imagery.

There’s more to the symbolism. My knowledge of alchemy is, I completely admit, too surface level to elegantly speak at length but I’ve done some light reading online to back up my confidence in what I’m saying. We know Miyazaki loves dark edgy anime like Berserk and I posit that he also gained inspiration from the anime/manga Hellsing, in which the main character recites the line “I am the bird of Hermes, eating my own wings to make me tame.” This line comes from the Ripley Scroll and is theorized to have many meanings but popularly is presumed to mean giving up higher philosophy and knowledge to live normally on the earth as a human. Miyazaki uses lots of alchemical symbolism in his works, Elden Ring especially (go watch Quelaag’s videos!) so I could be totally full of shit about hellsing but I’m completely confident that Godfrey is meant to be an inversion (like literally everything else about his character) of what the Bird of Hermes represents. Godhood is a prison, a shackling. The entire plot is Marika (and Ranni tbh) trying to escape that imprisonment. Godfrey loves Marika enough to chain himself down, to eat his own wings, to pull out his own teeth and claws for her to make himself tame and ascend to lordship.

What’s especially fascinating about him is that he carries Serosh out into the badlands with him, as the opening cutscene shows. Cut dialogue indicates he already knew the Elden Ring would shatter and the tarnished would be beckoned to return. That Marika told him her plan in full before she took from him and his warriors the grace of gold and sent them away. A line from him saying to trust in gold, always, that it will guide our fates to our true destiny has wonderful implications I would certainly love to expand on in another post maybe. Hoarah Loux was just a human man and Marika trusted him enough to tell him everything. Trusted him with her gambit to escape the shackles of godhood. This is the fascinating part about taking Serosh with him. Keeping himself disciplined enough to remain a Lord when he returns. To hold back his aching heart just enough that he could follow through on this dark plan and allow his wife to protect him from the machinations of the greater will by sending him away. Also note that in that opening cutscene, he’s being crucified, with a lion about his shoulders and spear buried in his abdomen. They could not be milking the Jesus imagery harder if they tried. The Bird of Hermes is also thought to represent Christ, more points for that symbolism.

I love Godfrey so much as a character. He loved his sons and he loved his wife. The tenderness that he holds Morgott with is enough to make me cry. How he wished he could’ve seen him sooner, I’m all too sure. He’s the only other character we see guided by grace in the entire game. Marika guides you and her beloved husband, that’s it, that’s how much she trusts him. When he rips Serosh from his shoulders, you understand how Marika felt such faith in him. In Elden Ring, it is through battle that you face the true self of an opponent. Godfrey reveals to you Hoarah Loux, Warrior Chieftain of the Badlands. It is a test. Are you worthy to free her? Can you do what I could not? I have shown you courtesy enough as a Lord. You served me well, Serosh. I relieve you of your burden and feel only gratitude for your service. Now begins the test. Are you, tarnished, stronger than the only man who was strong enough to bear the burden of Lordship? Are you stronger than the only man that Queen Marika ever trusted? Are you stronger than the only man she ever loved?

[astridthevalkyrie]

your match is made | xavier x reader

“I know,” he continues, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “that the people in our classes, the nobles, the folks in the marketplace, they all hold me in high regard.” “Xavier,” you try to argue weakly, already feeling your heartbeat speed up from where this conversation is going. The thought of losing him, of losing your best friend, your prince, your everything, it is paralyzing. “Please don’t—” “I know that my weapon of choice is a longsword.” “Stop,” you whisper. But he doesn’t, and he looks directly into your eyes with an open, honest sincerity written all over his face. Like this is his truth, even though it is yours. “And I know that you have known me all your life, and I feel that I have known you for even longer than that.”

cw: fluff, like that's it that's literally it this is so fluffy

word count: 6.6k

a/n: lyric credits used in this fic: téir abhaile riú by celtic woman <- fire song btw, listen to bless your ears, it also sets the vibe of this fic very nicely tbh. jeremiah's my favorite boyfailure.

Lanterns hang from every available line in and around the town square, brightening any block lucky enough to fall under its horizon. In every corner and roadblock, there are carts littering the streets, dozens upon dozens of merchants calling out their best prices on their finest goods, all the way from fabrics stitched by the very same threads used for the royals’ robes, to common sweet chocolates that all the teenagers are purchasing in bulk to share with their friends and younger siblings. There is room to move around, but there is not a single area that is not bustling with people, either trying to purchase steamed corn from the stalls or simply enjoying the festivities with their families. And in the center of it all, the bards play with such finesse that their fingers may as well be the source of the music rather than the instruments. 

Such is the celebration of lights, a celebration of the light. Of Philos, of this miracle that humanity has been gifted with. Every year without fail, the people gather in the town square to commemorate this historic occasion, and every year without fail, it is the grandest jamboree you have ever bore witness to.

“C’mon, Xavier,” Jeremiah protests out loud, “what would be the point of having the crown prince with us if he refuses to pay for our meals?”

Xavier simply shakes his head, the serene smile never leaving his face as he denies Jeremiah for the third time tonight—he clearly derives great pleasure from doing it. “I’d hate to rob you of the chance to participate in Philos’ market tonight of all nights.”

Jeremiah groans at his right, and from Xavier’s left, you giggle. It’s the same routine every single year, and at every occasion to be honest, and yet Jeremiah never stops trying to emphasize the difference in his wealth versus the royal family’s. Xavier, who you think would give his last dime to an ant if it looked hungry enough, looks like he loves refusing Jeremiah more than participating in any one of the activities tonight. 

The spicy aroma of rice cakes fills your senses then, and you let out a longing sigh as you look to the stall decorated with steaming bowls on all sides. “I’m starting to get hungry too, now.”

Both of them follow your gaze, where the vendor is hurriedly turning this way and that to discuss prices and accept payments, while three of his chefs work in the back, delivering more as the demand increases. Xavier hums quietly, then takes out a small black pouch from his pocket.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to eat.” He holds out the bag for you to take, but before you can, Jeremiah scoffs, loudly.

“Oh, that’s sick.” He points an accusing finger at the prince. “That’s sick! If you keep playing favorites, you’re going to get betrayed when you take the throne, I hope you know. I swear I’m going to lead a revolution against you myself.”

“Do you really think my grandis knight would ever let you harm me?” Xavier shoots back, and you beam as Jeremiah rolls his eyes, snatching the pouch straight out of his fingers.

“I’ll take this, and I’m going to get two”—he holds up two fingers for emphasis—”two bowls, and I’m not sharing. Your grandis knight can split her portion with you.” With that, he stomps off in a huff, leaving Xavier with his head tilted and a confused expression on his face.

“I don’t understand. There should be enough coins for three bowls.”

“He’ll get you a bowl.” You raise your voice enough for Jeremiah to hear as he walks. “He’s very grateful that you offered your money, isn’t that right, Jermy?”

Jeremiah makes a rude gesture without even turning back to face you, and you laugh, grabbing Xavier’s wrist to follow him. If it were any other member of the royal family, they’d be getting swarmed right about now, and would likely require at least ten guards to stand around them at all times to ward people off. That is how the king and queen sit, a few blocks away from the main festival, up on a platform elevated high enough that no one could think to climb it, with Lightseekers both in front of them and on the ground, safe and observing the celebration from a distance. Philos’ crown prince is different. Xavier is out in the town with the common folk so frequently that he’s almost lost all the celebrity status his title comes with. Of course, that makes him popular in an entirely different way. The people in the market always seem happy that someone of such high status would lower himself enough to walk and talk amongst them.

His hand slips lower as the two of you go after Jeremiah, warm fingers intertwining with yours. You think little of it, reckoning he doesn’t want to get separated with so many people around. Xavier isn’t one to shy away from touch, at any rate. Once you spar with someone enough, it’s only natural to become physically comfortable with one another. He places his hands on your shoulders when he wants to guide you somewhere, bandages your cuts with his own calloused palms, presses his lips to your forehead to check whether you’re sick or not. In the face of all that, him holding your hand while running through a bustling crowd is hardly surprising.

Jeremiah is waving the pouch in the air hopelessly, trying to be noticed amongst the rest, when the vendor spots the two of you. “Xavier!” he calls happily. “Good timing, I have a fresh bowl ready just for you!”

“Unbelievable,” your chestnut-haired friend mutters under his breath, elbowing you as you laugh at his misfortune. Xavier steps closer, and you see him hold up two fingers to ask for more. When he points over, you wave to the vendor, who waves back before calling out instructions over his shoulder. In almost an instant, he has three steaming bowls filled with rice cakes ready for you to take. Your mouth almost waters at the sight. 

Xavier picks up one of them to offer to you, which you take gratefully. Taking a few steps to the side to avoid crashing into anyone, the three of you find a relatively less crowded place to dig in. 

Before you can take a heaping sip from the spoon, he gently takes your wrist and blows on the hot broth, meeting your eyes with a soft, concerned look. “Be careful.”

“I’m always careful,” you remind him teasingly, but blow some air of your own onto the spoon before finally digging in. As the flavors explode inside your palate, you hold back a moan at how good it tastes.

“Miss Knight!” a high-pitched voice calls out, and you turn in time to see a tiny pink blur moving past people’s legs. 

“Adelaide!” You hand your bowl to Jeremiah, who passes it to Xavier without even blinking, and kneel down to catch the blur in your arms. “Look at you, you look so pretty! I love your dress!”

The little girl’s eyes light up at the compliment. “Thank you! Miss Knight,” she bounces up and down eagerly, “I made something for you!” In her hands, she holds out a product of one of the several craft stalls set up for the children during the festival, a simple but elegant flower crown that she holds out like a grand prize. And from how your heart melts, it may as well be. 

“Oh, how beautiful. Thank you so much. Would you put it on for me?” You tilt your head down, and she places it on with all the care a child of six years would have. You know you’ll have a difficult time getting it out in a while after the flowers tangle with your hair, but you don’t mind at all. Adelaide is your favorite person to visit whenever the three of you come to town, the daughter of the seamstress who makes your uniforms, and you’d do anything to see her smile the way she is now.

“You look like a princess,” she says in awe. Your cheeks warm, and you stand up, gesturing to the other two.

“Speaking of which, you remember Xavier and Jeremiah, don’t you?”

Her small hands grip your dress robes as she hides behind your legs, peeking out at them. Xavier, with both his hands occupied holding your bowl and his own, merely smiles encouragingly at her, while Jeremiah waves. “Hiya, Adelaide. Your dress looks awesome!”

From the corner of your eye, you see her face turn bright red, and right as you’re about to coo inwardly about her adorable little crush, you hear someone calling her name. All your heads turn, as an older blonde boy, out of breath, almost pushes past people in his rush to run to her. 

“I told you not to run off like that! You could get lost—oh.” He stops short when he sees you, blinking as the color returns to his cheeks after his run. “H-hi there.”

“Hi, Neville.” You smile at Adelaide’s older brother, who’s almost always around when you visit. “Enjoying the celebration?”

“Definitely—I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you, I was helping Mother with her stall, a-and I didn’t know your master would give you the night off.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the world. And the grandis knight is at the king’s side, he could hardly stay to train me on such an important night.”

“Right.” He stands with his hands on Adelaide’s shoulders, only staring, seemingly forgetting why he’s there in the first place. For a few moments, no words are said at all.

Right when you’re about to cough awkwardly, he snaps back to attention. “Um, would you like to dance?”

“She can’t,” Xavier says immediately, almost making you jump. He’s almost right behind you, looming over your shoulder and staring Neville straight in the eyes with an expression you’ve never seen on him before. 

“Xavier!” The blonde bows clumsily (and unnecessarily) before straightening up, an unspoken question in his eyes. He looks between you and Xavier, and while you hadn’t been planning to agree to his request in the first place, you look at Xavier curiously as well. He’s never before dictated what you do during the celebration, whether you’re with him and Jeremiah or with some of the others in your class. 

“She can’t,” he says again, a bit more softly, “she can’t, because…” He takes one glance at you, then down at the two bowls in his hand, then looks back up. “She’s already going to dance with Jeremiah.”

“What?” both you and your supposed dance partner question at the same time. 

“You’ve been meaning to ask her to dance the whole night.” Xavier’s blue eyes fall on Jeremiah, with a pointed gaze. “This song is about to end, I think now is as good a time as any.”

“But I’m eating!” he whines, shaking the bowl in his hands as though to beg Xavier to take pity on him.

“I’d be happy to dance with her before Jeremiah steps in—” Neville offers, but he’s cut off by Xavier again, and this time his voice is icier, and his eyes are narrowed on Jeremiah who’s pouting at him.

“No, I think Jeremiah should do it now before it’s too late.”

Whatever message he’s trying to get across, Jeremiah clearly understands it, groaning and taking one last sip before grabbing your hand and tugging you to the main grounds. You’re only slightly irked that no one actually waited for your answer on whether you wanted to dance or not. But you’re more confused than anything else. Just a few minutes ago, both of them were fine, what could have happened so soon to make Xavier sound so cold?

“Have you really been meaning to ask me to dance all night?” you try asking, but Jeremiah only rolls his eyes.

“Please shut up. I already have to deal with His Majesty the Oblivious Idiot tonight, I can’t deal with both of you.”

“What are you talking about—”

“Miss Grandis Knight!” one of the bards, the violinist, waves to you. You’re momentarily distracted, smiling at her. It’s quite nice, if maybe a bit egotistical, to hear anyone call you what you’re trying so hard to be even when you haven’t achieved it yet. “Coming to dance?”

“I am!” you shout back cheerfully. “Give me a good one!”

She thinks for a few seconds, then makes a motion to the other musicians. Placing the violin against her collarbone delicately, she begins to pluck a familiar tune, one that has you lighting up and has the crowd cheering. Even Jeremiah grins as the two of you face each other, both of you well versed in proper dance etiquette from taking the same classes growing up. 

First, he bows, mimicked by the other men in the large circle that’s formed, extending a hand to their dance partners. Then you, and the other ladies, curtsy, and with a light step you take his hand and begin the dance. The bards begin to sing the contagious melody, as you and Jeremiah step in place, back and forth, your arms extending then coming together, before he twirls you under his arm. Both of you are laughing for no real reason, perhaps aside from how frivolous this is compared to the fighting techniques you’re usually partaking in together.

The song builds, and builds, and his hands slip to your waist, helping you leap across him before he ducks his head dramatically. The violinist calls your name, pointing at you to sing the next verse. Through your giggles, your cheeks warm at the attention, but you oblige.

Swishing your dress around you, you bounce off Jeremiah, pointing at him with a flourish. “Come now and follow me down, down to the lights of Galway where—” Your eye catches Xavier’s, who’s watching you as though you’re the main event. With everyone else’s attention already on you, you’re not sure if you can possibly take any more, but something about his gaze makes your chest feel lighter, as though in this celebration of lights, the real light is the one staring at you, the one who has eyes for no one else. “There's fine sailors walking the town, and waiting to meet the ladies there!”

The bards take over the song again, yet the spell doesn’t break. As Jeremiah twirls you again and hands you off to the next man, switching dance partners easily, you beckon Xavier towards you, urging him to join. 

The night is young, you try to convey to him wordlessly, and I don’t want to be without you.

He steps forward, as you switch dance partners again. While you hadn’t meant to dance in the first place, it makes you feel lightheaded in a good way. The movements you have to do are light as opposed to rough and unforgiving on your muscles, and the alternating hands on your body handle you as gently as possible instead of trying to seek out all your weak points. 

Your head tilts to the side, trying to see if Xavier entered the fray or not. You’ve lost sight of him, in a different part of the circle now, and you can’t search properly without breaking the formation of the dance and ruining everyone’s fun. The next person you spin into ends up being Neville, who chuckles shyly and tells you, “Not bad, Miss Grandis Knight!”

His moves are far more stiff than Jeremiah’s, but far be it from you to judge when he hasn’t had formal training. The important thing is that he tries, and you still have fun, and besides, the song is ending now. You’re almost back to where you started in the circle, just one more spin and—

A familiar, calloused hand grazes yours, skimming down the side of your arm. You gasp at this touch, far more coarse than the others, and the only one to leave you breathless, not least because it’s accompanied by the striking blue of Xavier’s eyes. 

When he extends and brings you closer, it is more than just natural. Xavier is of royal blood, it is almost as if he was born to do this. Your feet step with his without you having to look down, so familiar with his balance and pace from years and years and years of sparring together. And not even once do you break away from his piercing gaze, because you’re nervous that if you do, he might just disappear.

The song comes to an end, with a final step forward and your hands on Xavier’s chest, and everyone erupts into cheers. The noise surrounding you makes the silence between you and him all the more deafening.

As the two of you simply stare at each other, breathing in sync, one of his hands reaches up, first resting on your cheek before then making its way up to gently adjust the flower crown that had slanted on your head while you were dancing. Once he fixes it, his head tilts down, just enough that his nose brushes against yours, and a smile forms on your lips.

“I am very pleased you joined, my liege.” Your eyes shine in gratitude.

Xavier opens his mouth to respond, and that’s exactly when Jeremiah chooses to slump against his shoulder, yawning. “Oh man, I’m spent. When do we go back to the academy?”

Xavier looks mildly disgruntled. “This is going to go on for hours,” you tell him, frowning, “we can’t leave now. Besides, the fireworks will start soon.”

“Another dance?” the crown prince suggests, sliding your palm into his. 

Jeremiah gives him an unimpressed look. “Give it a rest.”

Stepping past the two of them, you look at all the tables mostly occupied by children being distracted by someone painting little butterflies and stars on their faces or the tiny flutes that are passed out for them to blow into. One of the pastry vendors is handing out baked goods for free, and while you didn’t actually get any chance to eat earlier, you want to find something to actually do. You’re not tired after dancing; on the contrary, now you’re restless and brimming with energy. 

“Come on,” you declare readily, taking both their hands and pulling them into the ruckus. Your boys have little choice but to come along with you. Your feet will start to ache soon too, you’re sure. But for now, while they don’t, and while the way Xavier was staring at you is still burned into your mind, you want to enjoy yourself.

Once again, his fingers tangle with yours, clinging to your hand warmly—a stark difference to Jeremiah’s, which you have to grip onto harder to make sure he doesn’t get left behind. He whines and complains the whole time, telling you he’s sore all over and that the three of you should try and beat the rush by leaving early. You’re used to this routine every year, so you’re not fazed. Nor is he serious, because even though you could physically force him to stay, Jeremiah never tries to leave until you and Xavier are good and ready.

As you run, different students in your section call out to you and Jeremiah. People are just slightly more hesitant to address Xavier directly, but you’ve never understood such a thing. The last thing he is is intimidating. Well, maybe place a sword in his hand and he becomes slightly fearsome (to everyone except you). There’s still no need to pretend that Xavier ever struts around demanding everyone show him the highest respects. He’s the furthest thing from arrogant.

It makes you feel proud, really, knowing you’ll be in the service of Philos’ greatest king.

“Xavier!” someone finally calls out. For a second, you’re thrilled, until you see who it is, and your face falls.

The title of grandis knight comes with a certain authority. Not one that you actually have yet, of course, but people respect the current holder of the position, and as his prized mentee, that respect teeters down to you most of the time. 

Keyword being most.

Just a few months back, you and Lillia had been close friends. You weren’t as close to her as you were to Xavier and Jeremiah, but she was still someone you confided in. You knew a few personal things about her, and she knew a few personal things about you. It was nice to be able to talk to someone who wasn’t a guy, or your trainer, or one of the older students. Just another girl around your age training to become a Lightseeker.

But you should have realized that the respect you garnered by swearing to be the future king’s bodyguard came with a reasonable risk of betrayal as well. And yes, betrayal is a strong word. Technically, nothing happened. There is no accusation you can level at her. At least not without someone calling you hysterical, and that’s hardly needed when you’re already a woman seeking the highest position in the court, second only to the king himself.

It had come down to one night, with just you and her sitting and talking about nothing in particular, when she had leaned in and asked you something.

“So do you like anyone?”

It had been a quiet night, and the two of you had been the only ones awake, holed up in an old classroom, so you hadn’t thought any consequences could come from speaking truthfully—or at least, what you had genuinely believed to be the truth.

“Not really.” You’d shrugged, leaning back on the desk you were sitting on, putting your weight on your palms. “Most of the people in our section aren’t really my type.”

“Really?” Lillia had smiled slyly. “Not even Xavier?”

Your nose had wrinkled—not in disgust, just confusion. “Xavier? Why?”

“What do you mean? You two spend all your time together. You’re always sparring. Doesn’t romantic tension build up after something like that?”

“Maybe if we were equally matched,” you’d huffed, shaking your head, “I always beat him, I certainly don’t feel any tension. Besides, he’s going to be king. And I’m trying my best to be his grandis knight. We could never be in a relationship even if we wanted to be.”

“So you don’t have any interest in him?” she’d asked, a little more forcefully. You’d thought nothing of it at the time. 

“I mean…” Your stomach had twisted a bit uncomfortably and you’d averted your gaze. “If you had a sword to my neck, if I had to choose someone…”

And it had forced you to think about it. A far off scenario, if he wasn’t going to be the king, or if you weren’t going to be the grandis knight, or maybe both. It had been difficult to see Prince Xavier as anything else, but…it wasn’t impossible. If you were both just students, or partners, or even if you worked at that bakery that he loved to frequent. 

If you were just a normal person, and he was as common as everyone else, the first thing you’d thought you’d notice about him would be his eyes. It’s what you notice about him most of the time regardless. He has nice eyes. They have a sincerity in them that most people lack. And he looks at you a lot, so you would know.

He’s not bad to look at either. And he’s kind. A good leader. With a precious heart. And skilled fingers—

Blinking out of the hypnotic thoughts you’d fallen into, you’d hidden your suddenly flustered state as best you could and simply answered, “I suppose if I had to choose to love someone, I’d choose Xavier.”

And that had been that. Or so you thought. Everything had been alright, at least.

Until the next morning, when you’d walked out of your class and seen Lillia’s arms around Xavier’s neck. 

For a second, it had felt like Philos stopped turning on its axis. 

It wasn’t like Xavier had reciprocated. But that was only because he had been too polite to shove her away, and it would’ve been inappropriate to engage in anything further. Crown prince or not, he was still a guy, and obviously a pretty girl pressed into him in such a way would interest him.

And Lillia had caught your eye, and smiled triumphantly, as though to say well, if you don’t want him, then…

Even though you hadn’t said you didn’t want him. Well, you had said you weren’t interested, yes. But you had also told her that if someone held a blaster to your face if you didn’t cherish someone, then you would cherish Xavier. And maybe that hadn’t been a confession, but it hadn’t been you giving her permission to pursue him either. Not that she needed your permission, because it wasn’t like you had a claim on him, and it wasn’t supposed to make your chest burn that he, even for a second, looked at anyone else the way he looked at you.

You hadn’t confided your weak feelings to anyone else after that.

“Hi, Lillia,” Xavier says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You didn’t even realize until now that the three of you had approached her. “What’s this booth for?”

“Oh, it’s amazing,” she gushes, wrapping her hands around his arm and tugging. Your eye twitches. “She’s a fortuneteller. For just a few copper pieces, she’ll answer any one question you want to know about your life.”

“Really?” he asks softly, and all your gazes shift to the woman who bows her head to the prince, sitting in her chair with a purple drape over the small table in front of her. “I’m not sure what I’d want to ask.”

Lillia smirks in a way that makes you uneasy. “Well, I asked about my future partner.”

“Partner? For sparring?”

“For marrying, you dolt,” Jeremiah snorts, “c’mon, Xav, sit down and let’s see which unlucky soul gets to be queen of Philos.”

You’re nervous that he will, and you’re nervous that you won’t like the answer. Because it wouldn’t be you, you’re sure of that. And you shouldn’t want it to be you. That doesn’t mean you think he should be with her, either. What business did Lillia have pursuing Xavier, at any rate? She was training to be a Lightseeker too—but of course, the average knight did not have the same restrictions the grandis knight did—not that it matters because you have no say regardless—

But Xavier shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. My future partner will simply be…whoever the kingdom deems the loveliest of the lot.”

Your heart both inflates and deflates at his response. On one hand, you hadn’t wanted him to have his fortune read, for fear of heartbreak. On the other hand, a part of you had foolishly hoped that he would have the same option to love like everyone else did.

“You should do it,” Jeremiah nudges you with his elbow. Before you can protest, Lillia’s eyes light up.

“Oh, yes, you should! Here, come sit.” 

“Um, I don’t know.” Warily, you gaze over at the fortuneteller, who merely gives you a serene smile. “Is she going to give me someone’s name?”

“No, just a description. She told me my future partner would be someone of noble descent.” Lillia beams, showing off her too-perfect teeth, and suddenly you feel inadequate. You know what she’s implying, even if Xavier doesn’t. After all, there are very few people who would match that description.

So, not wanting to seem like a coward, because the king’s sword is anything but a coward, you step forward, sitting down in the leathery chair. You’re about to reach for your pocket to take out the copper pieces, when Xavier reaches over and places them in the fortuneteller’s palm, giving you an encouraging look that makes your heart sink. Perhaps you should have listened to Jeremiah earlier and called it a night.

When the woman takes your hand, she closes her eyes, running her thumb back and forth against your calluses. Your breath gets stuck in your throat, and you try not to move a muscle. For some reason, it feels like if you so much as twitch, you’ll get the wrong answers, and you’re not even sure what the right answers are. 

Her eyes open, piercing yours with a startling gaze. “Fascinating,” she murmurs, “I see three things about your lover.”

To hear that word—lover, instead of spouse or partner, makes your entire face feel hot. Lillia giggles, saying something under her breath that you don’t catch but makes you feel violent tendencies nonetheless.

“First, he is someone held in very high regard by all around him.”

Oh no.

“Second, a longsword is his weapon of choice.”

Oh no.

“And third, you have known him all your life.”

Well, she may as well have just screamed Xavier’s name at the top of her lungs.

Everyone is silent for a few seconds. There is a heavy pause in the air, because who else could she be referring to? Who else fits that exact description? All Lillia was told was she’d be with someone of noble descent, which could be at least a few people. The painful beating in your chest is onset because there is only one person that your fortune fits. 

You know it, he knows it, even Jeremiah and Lillia know it. 

So you do the only thing you can do. You calmly stand up, offer the fortuneteller a tight-lipped smile, and turn on your heel and run.

Behind you, a few different people call your name, though you note distinctly that Xavier isn’t one of them. After that, even if other people are still recognizing you and trying to get your attention, you can barely think straight enough to identify their voices, let alone respond. You run, out of the town square, out of the festival, out of the sight of anyone who could possibly perceive you.

You run as far as you can before your legs start aching, which, unfortunately for you, takes a long time with your endurance training. By the time you feel even a twinge resembling pain, you’ve already made it a far distance away from the celebration, near the seamstress’ shop. 

With gritted teeth, you heave yourself over the fence, knowing you’re more than welcome in her garden. It’s luscious, orange and lavender chrysanthemums in the center stealing the spotlight from all the other flowers. Instead of going towards them, you curl up next to the lilies, because you already feel unremarkable enough.

It’s not that you think Xavier would be disgusted by you. The two of you are friends—but that’s exactly it, the major problem of having feelings for him. Besides the fact that you are supposed to brandish your sword in his name, you cannot like him because you’d rather die than lose your best friend. You couldn’t even say how long you’ve known him, but you do know that he’s the best part of your life. Not for anyone would you bow your head. Not for anyone would you lay your life down. You’ve observed Xavier for years and years and there is not a single other person in the royal family that you would follow into any battle, through any world, past any planet. 

You groan, burying your face in between your knees. At some point in between the months Lillia first asked you about him and now, you’ve gone beyond just considering him as more than a friend. You’ve even got past having a measly crush on him.

You’re in love with Xavier, and it’s awful.

Breathing slowly, you gaze up at the night sky, where the fireworks have still not made their appearance. The wind teases the flowers around you, making them tilt a little to the left, which is oddly how you feel too. Not uprooted, but bent, just like a flower. 

With a blade of grass in between your fingers, you follow the direction the flowers are blowing in, only to find yourself staring at shining ceruleans.

“Xavier!” you gasp, eyes widening with a start. You move to stand as a reflex, but he raises a single hand, and you stop.

There isn’t a single bead of sweat on his face. He is breathing a little raggedly, and his uniform is stained with some sap he must’ve not been able to avoid from the bushes on the way over. His face—well, his face is pristine as always, there isn’t a moment when the prince of Philos looks anything less than dreamy. But it’s not his features you’re gazing at, but the concerned expression upon them, directed straight at you, with caring eyes and pinched brows.

You almost want to cry just at the thought you’ve worried him.

“Are you alright?” His voice is quiet, cautious, fragile. Like you may break if he’s too forceful in his questioning.

“Yes, fine,” you reply automatically, though you suppose you now have to make up a story for why on Philos you ran away like a child, especially because he sits next to you, knees raised in the same manner as yours.

“I was merely…overwhelmed, by the crowd.” The explanation sounds weak even as your tongue speaks it, but you cannot think of any other reason for your actions. At least this is easier than the truth. Anything is easier than the truth.

For a few seconds, there is silence, and as uncomfortable as this already is, you can’t bear it. So you turn to look at him, and you realize with burning cheeks you realize he is staring right back. You don’t even think he’s looked at the blossoming flowers even once; his head seems to be fixated in your direction.

“I know you constantly score better than me,” Xavier says softly, “but I am not foolish.”

With a hesitant hand, as though he’s asking for permission, he reaches up to once again adjust the flower crown on your head. Your heart falls, and you really should’ve known better to think Xavier could not read you like an open book, especially after a fortuneteller quite literally did read you like an open book.

“I know,” he continues, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “that the people in our classes, the nobles, the folks in the marketplace, they all hold me in high regard.”

“Xavier,” you try to argue weakly, already feeling your heartbeat speed up from where this conversation is going. The thought of losing him, of losing your best friend, your prince, your everything, it is paralyzing. “Please don’t—”

“I know that my weapon of choice is a longsword.”

“Stop,” you whisper.

But he doesn’t, and he looks directly into your eyes with an open, honest sincerity written all over his face. Like this is his truth, even though it is yours. “And I know that you have known me all your life, and I feel that I have known you for even longer than that.”

Your lower lip trembles. Never once did you take him for the cruel type. There is no rule nor reasoning for this, to utterly expose your feelings even more and mock you for them, and if you sit here any longer you’re afraid you will begin to sob, and then not only will your friendship with Xavier be at risk, but your future position as well. The grandis knight cannot be weak. The grandis knight cannot shed tears for such silly matters as love. 

To preserve your role, to preserve your reputation and your dignity, you make to stand, to run even farther this time, but Xavier holds your wrist before you can, tugging you back to face him. There is no cruelty in his expression, in fact there is a tenderness as though he is somehow touched by your very clear devotion to him. 

His finger tilts your chin up, unwittingly making you demand a respect you don’t believe you deserve right now. His brow is pinched, as though he’s upset that you would let anyone, even him, turn you soft as a dandelion.

“I also know,” he breathes, “that this kingdom finds you incredibly lovely.” 

The world seems to stop.

“As…” Xavier’s hand rests itself on your cheek, and the most beautiful smile lights up his face as he murmurs, “Do I.” 

You lean in the same time he does, and faintly you hear fireworks erupt as you kiss the prince of Philos for the first time. 

The world is quiet, and so, so, so loud. Blood rushes to your face and to your ears, and you ignore it by placing both your hands on his cheeks, whimpering softly at how good he tastes. Every burning feeling and sensation you’ve felt in his presence these past few months, and really, your entire life, all seem to explode in this moment. The world is blue, and white, and Xavier.

His lips move so gently against yours, once again acting as though you are fragile, but it feels good this time, the idea of being something so precious as to require care for him. His thumb rubs soft circles into your cheek, you can barely pull away from him to assure him that he can be more forceful if he wishes, more wanting, more greedy. 

“Please,” he whispers against your lips, asking for what you aren’t sure, but you nod your head regardless, because you’d think you’d give him your very soul if he were to ask.

When you do pull back, he is looking at you so longingly it makes you more breathless than even dancing you did earlier. His gray-blonde hair nearly conceals his eyes, so you brush it from his face, breath hitching at his proximity. You’ve always known that he’s the apple of everyone’s eye, but you’ve never had the privilege to admire him so closely before.

“I don’t need a fortuneteller to tell me who my partner is.” Xavier rests his forehead on yours, eyes closing. “Whether it’s for sparring, or marriage, or anything else. You are the only one I want with me, through everything.”

You’re surprised you can even muster words when you shyly respond, “Likewise, my liege.”

His eyes shine, and the two of you finally look up to admire the fireworks bursting across the sky in incredible explosions of color. They pale in comparison to the eruption within you, but they are magical nonetheless, and you lean your head against his shoulder to watch.

A gentle kiss is placed on top of your head. “I know we only celebrate this once a year. It is a special time. Still…” He meets your gaze again, and the corners of his lips turn upwards. Tonight, there is only you and him now, you’re sure of it. “Would you mind terribly if we were to ignore the fireworks?”

Maybe one day you will learn to resist him. You sincerely doubt it, though.

“Not at all. But the seamstress and her kids will probably be back soon.” You place a begrudging hand on his chest, not wanting to stop him, but trying to act proper regardless. “Neville checks on the garden every night. He might see us.”

Xavier seems to consider this for a second. 

“Oh well,” he mumbles, leaning in to kiss you again, “what a shame.”

He doesn’t sound very sorry at all, and amidst the soft glow of moonlight, you surrender to him, lost in your very own little celebration of lights.

a/n: if i had a nickel for everytime i’ve written a character x reader story where they’re at a party and they dance together but then leave to have a nice moment by themselves i’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice, right?

[matan4il]

Hey! Anon from the last time here! By "Pro-Palestine Westeners" I was partially referring to all these students from Columbia and MIT who were illegally occupying the school grounds and harassing/hurting the actual Israeli/Jewish/Middle Eastern/the other generally decent students.

I know there's Pro-Palestine people who are actually decent, but all these college students are risking suspension/expulsion/jailtime because they'd rather chant pro-Ha*as slogans rather and listening to news from biased fonts rather than educating themselves on what's really happening. Some people would rather stay in their ivory towers, rather than going outside and touching grass.

I also know there's LGBT+ people in Palestine and other parts of MENA, and all I wish for them is that they live long enough to find a place where to live freely and out of the closet, without suffering persecution from their government.

Hope this clarified at least a little bit my other ask, and sorry it sounded so ambiguous. Finally, let's hope that Eden Golan gets at least in the top 5 at Eurovision 2024, just to spite anyone who booed her.

Hi Nonnie!

Thank you for sending this ask to clarify the previous one, it's what I thought you meant, and I'm glad to hear I wasn't too off.

TBH, as a gay woman myself, with gay Palestinian friends who are a part of my queer community, and whose struggles I know well, that's the first group I thought about as well. Then I thought about the fact that under Hamas law, husbands can rape their wives with impunity. I thought about the way the Christian population (the biggest non-Muslim minority under Palestinian rule) has demographically plummeted in the areas that Israel passed on to Palestinian control as a part of the Oslo accords. I thought about black people, whose ancestors were kidnapped because of the Trans-Saharan (i.e Arab) trade slave, and are still treated as lesser humans because of that (based on their skin color, they are still referred to in Arabic to this day as "Abeed," meaning slaves).

I think this last group, which most people don't even realize exists, deserves a bit more info shared about it:

Pretty sure black activists in the states, who don't know the history (and present) of the Arab slave trade, or the persisting anti-black racism that exists in Palestinian society, have no clue they're being exploited against the same Jewish community, which stood with Martin Luther King Jr. and the civil rights movement, even having some of its members paying with their very lives for this. I hope they wake up and realized they're being used for antisemitic purposes by the same people who enslaved and are still discriminating against some of their people.

But it's funny how the world's activists and human rights defenders seem to ignore the plight of these marginalized Palestinians, isn't it? Almost like, because they're NOT being oppressed by Jews, rather by fellow Palestinians, and can't be used to justify antisemitic rhetoric and action, then they don't count. So much for minority solidarity and intersectionality, right? It doesn't extend to Jews, and it doesn't extend to Palestinians who can't be weaponized against Jews.

Regarding the last bit of your ask, bless you for being hit with Apollo's dodge ball and predicting Eden making it into the top 5, despite every effort made by the jury members of so many countries, the awful people in the audience, and members of fellow delegations. It was magnificent!

Sending you hugs! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[steviebbboi]

🎃 - Ask a creator about a current project or WIP.

Can you post a snippet from the oldest WIP you have? 😄

Cate <3333 thanks for this ask 🥹

oh man, i had to dig into the archives for this one! This was written in 2016 - (dude what~). Tbh, im not sure that it'll ever get written but who knows! This was meant to be my first Steve x Goddess!Reader series fic starting from Thor's landing on Earth! This is so unfiltered/unedited omg lol -- anywho! Voila:

Untitled WIP (Steve Rogers x Goddess!Reader)

A distinctive, loud ‘boom’ echoed in the city of New Mexico. Citizens stopped to look around in wonder. After a few minutes, people began to dismiss the boisterous sound in amusement.

They shouldn’t have.

She was beautiful, naturally. The Goddess, Freyja, blessed her well. The woman was surrounded by a bright light, shaped to fit her and her only. She hovered above the sand covered ground before landing roughly, causing a loud thump to be heard across the city. The rings of light now gone, her position was of servitude. She had both hands curled in a fist, her knuckles pressing into the dirt. One knee touched the sandy surface, little specks of rocks pressing into her olive skin. 

The woman looked up, a smile gracing her face. Whines of police sirens were heard within earshot. She saw tiny forms of metal hit the ground around her, sparks flashing following a loud bang!  

“Peculiar…” She thought, suspecting their violent intent.

She cocked her head to the side and barely twitched her finger. After a few seconds, all the bullets stopped in mid-air as if they were stopped by an invisible force. The invisible veil no longer glimmered as the bullets fell to the ground.

“I thought the humans were supposed to be peaceful.” She voiced to the open sky, knowing the all knowing guard heard her.

Police cars and black sedans came to an abrupt stop in front of her. The men in uniform quickly stepped out of the vehicles before taking defensive positions behind their car doors. 

“Stay right there!” and “Freeze!” were heard as she took a step towards them. The woman fearlessly smiled before taking another step. Their guns cocked and fired at the woman. She quickly put her hands in front of her with her palms facing them. The shimmery barrier appeared again and disappeared as before. The smile wiped off her face and was replaced with a scowl.

“Enough.” She muttered with annoyance. The ground beneath them started to grumble and growl as the cars and sirens went off in a frenzy. It started to shake, everyone looking at the floor in a panicked awe. A loud crack could be heard as a crooked, jagged line started to appear on the dust covered Earth. 

The agents could only look amazed until a brave soul gathered some courageous sense to throw these crystal-like rocks surrounding her looming figure.

She looked down at the opaque crystals in alarm as they formed into a wide triangle-- the sediments glistened under the sun’s rays until a bright beam shined from within to exert a power she has never felt before.

The woman visibly winced as a loud, high pitched ringing noise pierced her eardrums, effectively, creating a psychic chaos in her mind. She twitched her fingers, visibly this time, towards the crystals but found that they didn’t even budge. 

She started to growl, teeth bared and banged against this static force field, violently, only for the noise to amplify the more that she hit the inner walls of the shimmering prism. She clutched her head with a pained groan and proceeded to knock on the barrier until blood spouted from her nose and ears. Eventually, causing her to black out with a defeated air.

AN: Unfortunately, no Steve in this lil snippet but would anyone be interested in reading this pairing?? 👀

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[voxofthevoid]

Time for Role Reversal Fem!Goyuu Wednesday 1!

I'm one(1) chapter into the story. It's only 3k, but given that it's got 0 sex despite how this story was supposed to be a pure pornfest, I think we can all see the writing on the wall. I will, however, bitch and whine all the same. The current plan is seven chapters, all fully outlined, but if the sex scenes or setup gets too long, the number may grow; that's what happened to Chapter 1.

The funny part is that I'm sure this chapter became...well, a chapter, as opposed to an intro scene or two, because this is my first time tackling goyuu role reversal from the inception instead of leaping into a point where Yuuji and Satoru are established teacher and student.

Anyway, it's been fun writing fem!Yuuji with Sukuna's OG form. I think this may end up catering to the folks who want to fuck Lady Dimitrescu—which would be great tbh.

Venture forth to find a 7-ft tall woman whose muscles ate you for breakfast 🍑

Satoru doesn’t have heroes.

Humans in general aren’t well suited to pedestals, and sorcerers in particular are worse. Satoru is a clan child, born blessed and grown only more so; she has seen all extremes of what their sequestered world has to offer. There’s more bad than good, more horrors than miracles, and that’s as true of sorcerers as curses.

It’s just as well.

She’s Gojou Satoru; she does not need heroes.

What she does have are stories. Two, specifically—a woman who was once a calamity and another woman, a thousand years later, who ate that calamity piece by piece. It’s been barely fifteen years since Itadori Yuuji’s name was burned into the history books alongside that of Ryomen Sukuna, a footnote that became the master title, and Satoru’s been alive and aware for nearly all of them.

Her childhood obsession was the King of Curses and her vessel-turned-devourer. She’s ingested every neatly bound book and dusty, disintegrating scroll in the Gojou clan’s possession that so much as references the Sukuna. Itadori has fewer records, but she’s alive and thriving, the strongest sorcerer in the world. Her name is voiced with equal parts fear and revulsion, the worse fools daring even condescending disdain, but Satoru’s heard more in what they don’t say than what they do.

Itadori Yuuji is a monster; she is a sorcerer.

She is—

“Are you some kind of pervert?” Satoru asks.

Itadori blinks all four of her mismatched eyes, the lower pair a few milliseconds slower than the primary one. She tilts her head, looking not unlike a puppy—an oversized, three-headed puppy.

A seven-foot-tall behemoth of a woman with her tits out has no business looking cute, but that doesn’t stop some small, senseless part of Satoru from swelling like she’s bring pumped full of sunshine and roses and other sicky sweet things.

Itadori asks, “Do you want me to be?”

Suguru makes a choking noise. Her hand snaps around Satoru’s wrist, squeezing tight in silent warning.

“What? No!” Satoru snaps, digging an elbow into Suguru’s side. She thinks she’s being subtle, with how the two of them are pressed so close together, but Itadori’s lower left eye drops to where the pointy edge meets Suguru’s flesh. Her expression doesn’t change from that pleasant smile that only reaches half of her eyes, and she doesn’t say a word in censure, but that eye stays there, even as the other three bore into Satoru like Itadori’s waiting for an answer.

Satoru drops her arm and takes a slight, shuffling step away from Suguru.

“Please forgive Satoru, sensei,” Suguru says, her voice the same deep, blandly pleasant thing it was when she introduced herself to Satoru a year ago. “She doesn’t think before she speaks sometimes. A lot of the time.”

“Hey!”

“That’s alright,” Itadori says, her smile widening enough to make her eyes crinkle—only the main pair, the lower two a ringed red that watch them unblinkingly. “I was worse at your age. But I’m curious now. What did you mean, Satoru-chan?”

Satoru wrinkles her nose at the address; no one’s dared to call her that in a long time. At least it doesn’t sound particularly patronizing coming from Itadori, not that the inexplicable fondness there is any less weird.

“Your tits are out,” she tells Itadori.

Itadori looks down blankly at her own chest, her expression growing quizzical as if the swell of her breasts is some sort of surprise when she’s the one going around wearing nothing but a haori up top. It doesn’t cover shit either. She hasn’t even put her arms in the sleeves, and alright, maybe it’s tricky when she’s got four of those too, but like this, the fabric draped across her shoulders and falling limply down her back only serves to emphasize everything she’s not covering, the blood red of the haori unsettlingly striking against her sun-warm skin tone.

And there’s a lot to see. Her sheer mass is blinding, and it’s all muscle, from the four bulging biceps to the abs you could break a bone on. The haori also does nothing to hide the mountainous breadth of her shoulders, and with every breath she takes, the fabric shifts, exposing new slivers of skin and flesh. The offending tits are the only points of softness on that torso, and even they’re firmer than Satoru’s used to seeing on women.

She can’t look away.

They’re big, objectively the biggest Satoru’s seen, except all of Itadori is immense and her bulk makes the breasts seem like they’re on the smaller end. They suit her, curving sweetly out like plump fruits, the nipples and the surrounding skin a mouthwatering dark.

Satoru tears her eyes away, swallowing wetly.

There’s nowhere that’s safe to look. If Satoru glances down, she’s treated to the sight of the mouth curving across the middle of Itadori’s stomach, distinct lips demurely closed but promising stranger sights beyond. If she looks up, there’s Itadori’s face, scarred and four-eyed and strikingly pretty, framed by a spiky mane of hair that’s offensively pink except toward the end, where it blends with a few strands that are a tame black.

Satoru makes furious eye contact with Itadori’s feet. They’re bare too. Of course they are. The nails are jet black, and maybe it looks like nail polish to normal eyes, but the Six Eyes know they’re pure keratin, only a color more suited to death than life.

Itadori is alive though. She’s flush with it, her cursed energy pulsing with a hunger that’s the unfiltered essence of life.

This woman, she’s—

“—stand now,” Itadori is saying, the words taking a moment to coalesce into sense in Satoru’s ears. “You’re shy.”

Satoru’s head snaps up. “Huh?!”

[ohbo-ohno]

CONGRATS ON 1K!!!! 🎉🎊🏆 May I please request “An old well” from the list? (Hehe, I’m a Sadako fan, I couldn’t resist) - 🕸

1k game here

how dare you make me google what "Sadako" is and see that terrifying shit. shame on you (/j)

inspired by an ancient mayan tradition where human sacrifices were shoved to the bottom of a well (which i read in a book called lotería, but i can't find sources on whether or not it's a real thing). the italics are a mayan prayer, found here

1.7k of god of rain ghost x sacrificed reader. there's actually very little ghost in this, sorry! it's mostly vibes tbh

The jewelry weighs down your every limb, dripping down your neck and arms. The mix of the drugs you'd been fed and the heavy ornaments leaves you unable to move, left lounging on the table you're carried on. You recite the prayer of the seven directions as you're paraded through the streets of your city.

From the East, House of Light May wisdom Dawn in us So we may see all things in clarity

You can hear the cheering crowds of your people. As scared as you are, you comfort yourself with the knowledge that you're helping them. If the God of Rain accepts your sacrifice, your people will have a prosperous harvest. And then, if the gods are kind, they will feast.

From the North, House of the Night May Wisdom Ripen in Us So we may know all from within

It's not much, but it's enough for you to find peace with your coming death. You picture your mother and father, bellies full and bodies healthy, and you know that it is enough. It has to be enough.

From the West, House of Transformation May Wisdom be transformed into right action So we may do what must be done

The sun shines down on you, leaving your skin tight and burning. There's not a cloud in the sky, yet another reminder of what your sacrifice is for. The rain god has not been pleased in recent months, and you are the final attempt at regaining his favor.

From the South, House of the Eternal Sun May right action reap the harvest So we may enjoy the fruits of Planetary being

You take a deep breath and let your eyes slip closed. You tell yourself there is peace in death, that you'll meet the ancestors with open arms. You are not afraid.

From Above, House of Heaven Where star people and Ancestors gather May their blessings come to us Now

A tear slips down your cheek as the table is settled to the ground. The cheering is a distant sound now, left at the bottom of the steps of the temple. You slowly blink your eyes open, and see the blurry image of your halach uinic, you ruler. He's a tall man - big and dark and broad, decorated with the scars of his conquest. His regalia nearly outshines yours.

He pulls you up with surprisingly gentle hands, doesn't even flinch when you give him almost all of your weight. The drugs you'd been given paint the world in stunning colors as they begin to settle more, and you watch with wide-eyes as the scars across his torso begin to move.

From Below, House of Earth May the heartbeat of her crystal core Bless us with harmonies to end all war

"We thank you for your sacrifice," you hear him saying, his voice muffled. He's reciting a prayer you've heard a dozen times before, before dozens of sacrifices. It's as familiar as the one you finish in your head, eyes slipping closed to give you a break from all the squirming scars.

From the Center, Galactic Source Which is everywhere at once May everything be known As the light of mutual love

"And we pray to you, Great God of Rain, of Thunder and Lightning, that you will split the clouds again, and allow us the great gift of your prosperity! We pray that our humble sacrifice be accepted, that our Woman be to your pleasure."

There's a muted sense of grief for yourself, deep in your chest. You can tell yourself again and again that you're ready to meet the dead, to beg for entrance to Death's kingdom, but it doesn't make the departure from life any easier.

"Are you ready?" The halach uinic asks, but you both know that you can't answer. It's difficult enough to open your eyes and look at him, nodding - or even speaking - isn't possible right now.

He's careful not to brush your skin as he guides you forward, hands wrapped around the gold bangles. He stands behind you, and your breath hitches.

You know what happens now. He's going to shove you into the well, where you will die and hope the God of Rain accepts your spirit before allowing you to pass on.

It doesn't make you less terrified when his handles settle on your shoulders. Your breathing shudders in and out of you, tears slipping down your cheeks.

You don't get a warning. One minute you're standing at the top of the temple, at the edge of the well, and the next you're falling through the air.

Oh Yum Hunab Ku Evam Maya E Ma Ho All Hail the Harmony of Mind and Nature

It's a terrifying thing, to fall.

The jewelry does it's job, weighting you down so you sink far faster than you would've naked. It flies into the air behind you, the thick necklaces pulling back on your neck and nearly choking you. You're forced to turn in the air, with the futile hope that your neck won't break. The adrenaline and fear gives you just enough energy to turn mid-air.

You want to scream as you watch the spot of light become smaller and smaller at the top of the well. You want to wail and cry and kick and beg, beg any deity listening to stop time, to keep you from falling.

But you have to be thankful. If you die angry, the God of Rain will never accept your sacrifice.

You let your eyes fall shut again, and pray the drugs do their job. You pray it doesn't hurt to die.

Mercifully, your prayers are answered. You can both hear and feel when you stop falling, the sudden jerk to stillness a shock, and the heavy weight of gold and emerald landing on top of your chest.

It both hurts and doesn't. You're aware that it should hurt, that you should be in unfathomable pain, that you should be sobbing and begging for the relief of death.

But there's no pain. There's a weight, a heavy cloud over your existence, but there's no pain.

It's dark at the bottom of the well. The glow from the sky is faint this far down, giving you only the impression of light. There's a glow coming from somewhere to your right, but you aren't strong enough to turn your head and look.

All you can do is breathe shallowly and stare up at the small blue circle above you.

Then, footsteps.

Loud, scraping footsteps, like the person making them isn't lifting his feet the whole way. Your breath hitches, but you force yourself to relax.

This is it. This is the moment you meet the God of Rain and beg him to accept your sacrifice.

He appears above you in pieces. A head of hair, a mask, a neck, a shoulder, a torso.

He's large, like all gods are presumed to be, and wearing a mask of bone like you've seen painted across temple walls.

"Another one?" He rumbles, voice low and echoing.

It's jarring to hear a god speak. His voice is both loud and quiet, both echoing and muffled, for you and for everyone. He's cloaked in black and bone, a picture of death, but his gift to your people is life. He's a contradiction, in every sense of the word.

"Please-" you choke out, voice weak and quiet. You have to fight to get the words past your throat, the drugs leaving you a prisoner in your own body. "Please... accept.... my hu... humble sacrifice.... and.... and...."

He sighs, stepping away. "Quiet."

You listen immediately, praying you haven't already ruined everything.

"They're always so slow," he mutters to himself. Before you can realize he's come back, you're lifted into his arms, held like a baby.

The part of your mind untouched by the drugs screams at this blessing, this gift, but the part of you still high only goes limp.

"No wonder you humans need so much extra help. Can hardly even speak yet."

Your eyebrows furrow, and you feel the pointless need to defend yourself. "It's... drugs...."

"What?" He looks down at you. "You're still alive?"

The best you manage is a hum.

"Huh. None of you have ever made it this long. Good for you, I supposed. Drugs, you said? Why on Earth would you be on drugs?"

"So..." you take a breath. The air is musty and cold down here, unpleasant in your mouth. "So... no... pain."

He snorts. "That does make sense. You humans are very sensitive, it can't be pleasant to hit the ground from such a height."

You'd laugh, if you could. Who knew gods could be talkative?

You're laid out on something cold and rough, almost like stone beneath your naked back. A hand presses into your stomach, forcing you to lay flat.

"I don't think any of you have made it this long," he muses to himself. "At least, not in recent centuries." His hand is warm as it strokes over the sensitive skin of your concave stomach. "You're very thin for a human. The ones they send have been getting thinner and thinner every year."

"Famine..." you whisper, rapidly losing your ability to speak. You can feel yourself fading now, can feel the first inklings of pain beginning in your head.

"Hmm. I suppose I have been putting off my duties for a bit too long."

A few tears slip down your cheeks, your body going cold.

"Well, I suppose you are a rather good sacrifice. Determined little thing, aren't you?" His warm hand cups your cheek, turning it to the side. You whine when that makes the pain ten times worse, lips quivering. "Hush, little one. Would you like the pain to go away?"

You try to look up at him. It takes several tries, every part of you slowly losing it's numbness. Everything is excruciating.

"There you are," he hums again, thumb stroking just between your eye. "It has been a while since I've had an assistant. I might keep you to myself for a bit."

If you were at all capable of anything but crying, your eyebrows would furrow. As it is, you can't do anything but sob.

"Alright, hush now," he shushes, other hand coming up to cover your eyes. "Let go, little human. Things will be very different for you when you wake up."

You're helpless to obey, closing your eyes against the pain and welcoming the sweet oblivion of death. You feel the God of Rain by your side the entire time, hand resting over your eyes. It's painful, but his presence brings you some peace.

You hope your sacrifice was worth it, hope that he'll bring water to your people again.

[moonlightseranade]

the only author i trust as of now is suzanne colins, god bless that woman and tbh i dont think its parasocial to expect ppl to be decent human beings.

[skeelly]

who are your fav mutuals and why?

tbh, i ignore these kinds asks as much as i can because i'm scared I'll offend someone by not putting them BUT I'll do it lol

heres like, my main mutuals that i love more than the boy i met in the comp

(IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER, I SWEAR)

@melodydepp (lol idk if it mentioned you) ml fr. so book coded i can't. also the most amazing human to ever walk planet earth, likeee???

@gergthecat HEY POOKIE. finally, a person who has the same or at least close humor as me and understands my jokes. youre the best fr. alsssoo, not to mention, you are EQUALLY as weird as me? like what a blessing (YOURE the blessing)

@mqstermindswift MY MAIN GIRL ILYYYYYY. LITERALLY ONE OF THE FEW PEOPLE KEEPING ME SANE LMFAO

@urbanflorals how do i introduce such important person in my life?? that's hard. but EM ILY. i physically cannot explain how special you are

@yourtwistedlies WOMAN YOU ARE BETTER THAN ALL THE MEN I KNOW. MARRY ME (platonically)

@sophiesonlinediary HEY SOPHIEEEEEEEE. i think we both know why you're here. you have taught me that making decisions is hard and i thank you for that (but fr, thank you for making sure i remember that something is stupid). also, what's up with the apartment??

@nqds NADSSSSSSSSSSS AAAAAH. IDEK WHAT TO SAY BUT AAAAHHHH. ILY. STAY FUNNY PLEASE

@reminiscentreader hiiii jassssssssssssssssssss. do I need to explain? jas = happy, good life. you're the best

@myster3y come back i miss you too much i don't think my mind can function correctly anymore

[soylent-crocodile]

Sleigh Beggy (Monster)

(image taken from Ancient Magus Bride, produced by Wit Studio)

(I love Magus Bride a bit too much, tbh, so I simply HAD to convert Chise to Pathfinder's setting. The nature of magic in Magus Bride is fundamentally different from than in Pathfinder- the tl;dr being that all magic comes from a fey source- so I deliberately tied the template to Fey and changed the rules a bit. I wonder how a sleigh beggy PC would play out. If you're curious, the word "Sleigh Beggy" is a corruption of "Sleih Beggey", a Manx word that means something akin to a generalized "Faerie". To my knowledge, the sleigh beggy as a magically gifted human is entirely original to the manga.)

CR2 CN Medium Humanoid

Sleigh beggy are a rare quality arising in humanoids of many races; they are naturally attuned with the rich magic of the First World. This is a blessing and a curse; it draws magical creatures to the sleigh beggy and gives them a natural affinity for magic (almost all sleigh beggy are sorcerers, or have the capability) and for fey creatures, but mages and fey alike may wish to use the magic inherent in their body for their own purposes.  

Sleigh beggy typically run in the family- it is comparable to a recessive gene, something that shows up occasionally within a bloodline. These bloodlines also almost always carry the touch of magic in them, although this magic does not necessarily tie the beggy to fey.

How a sleigh beggy reacts to her condition varies. Many attempt to hide their condition for fear of being hunted; and indeed, few sleigh beggy survive past young adulthood, between the strain of their magic and the threat of being poached. Those who do pursue magic find themselves incredibly gifted, and many chose to live in the First World, where those who would use them at least have the courtesy to keep them alive and intact.

This red-headed young woman is followed by a cheerful sprite, but she herself appears incredibly tired and frail.

Misc- CR2 CN Medium Humanoid HD3 Init:+1 Senses: Perception: +7 Aura: Fey Magic 30ft Stats- Str:8(-1) Dex:14(+2) Con:8(-1) Int:12(+1) Wis:14(+2) Cha:21(+5) BAB:+1 Space:5ft Reach:5ft Defense- HP: 10(3d6) AC:14(+2 Armor, +2 Dexterity) Fort:+0 Ref:+3 Will:+5 CMD:11 Offense- mwk Quarterstaff +1(1d6-1) CMB:+0 Speed:30ft Feats- Alertness, Familiar Bond (B), Improved Familair, Toughness Skills- Bluff +10, Knowledge (Local) +2, Knowledge (Nature) +2, Perception +7, Sense Motive +5, Spellcraft +5 Spells-  1 (DC16, 7/day)- Alarm, Color Spray, Disguise Self, Grease 0 (DC15)- Ghost Sound, Mage Hand, Mending, Message, Prestidigitation Special Qualities- Destined Bloodline, Familiar (Sprite), Fated +1, Feycharm, Magical Flesh, Touch of Destiny Ecology- Environment- Urban (Temperate) Languages- Common Organization- Solitary Treasure- Standard (mwk Quarterstaff, Leather Armor, Potion of Moment of Greatness, Potion of Cure Light Wounds) Special Abilities- Aura of Fey Magic (Su)- Fey creatures within a sleigh beggy’s aura of fey magic gain a +2 Morale bonus to skill checks and concentration checks and a +1 bonus to caster level of spells. Feycharm (Su)- The starting attitude of all Fey and creatures native to the First World towards a sleigh beggy is increased by two steps. Magical Flesh (Su)- A sleigh beggy’s body is imbued with fey power, making them detrimentally valuable. The flesh of a slain sleigh beggy can be used to replace 500gp worth of material per hit die of the sleigh beggy when crafting magical items, and a limb or major organ can be used to replace 100gp worth of materials.

Making a Sleigh Beggy

“Sleigh Beggy” is an inherited template that can be added to any humanoid (referred to hereafter as the base creature). A sleigh beggy gains the following abilities;

CR: Same as the base creature Feats: A sleigh beggy gains Familiar Bond as a bonus feat. A sleigh beggy with levels in a class that grants a familiar instead gains Improved Familiar as a bonus feat.  Additionally, a sleigh beggy who has levels in a casting class that does not grant a familiar gains the deliver touch spells, scry on familiar, share spells, speak with animals of its kind, or spell resistance special abilities for their familiar from Familiar Bond, and a sleigh beggy who wishes to take an improved familiar with the Fey type reduces the required level by 2.  Special Qualities: A sleigh beggy gains the aura of fey magic, feycharm, and magical flesh abilities, as above. Abilities: A sleigh beggy gains a -4 penalty to Constitution and a +4 bonus to Charisma.

[rebellenlied]

* / character profile: lilith.

full name: lilith (she has no family name)

age: 2,000+

species: primordial quincy (explanation under the cut)

affiliation: none

alias: lilith, mother of quincies

contains shared lore with: yhwach (@/hxbiris' only, also open to plot w/ others with approval tbh)

faceclaim: semiramis/assassin of red, fate/apocrypha

explanations on lilith's lore + primordial quincies will be done in a Q&A/FAQ bullet format!

what is a primordial quincy?

they're essentially quincies that precede yhwach's time by several centuries; humans blessed by the heavens to bend the elements to their will, and could bend more than one element if they wished to learn to do so. lilith is one of the primordial quincies, and is able to manipulate the element of the earth and the element of lightning.

you said her name is lilith, and that her moniker is "mother of quincies". is there a particular reasoning behind this?

yes! her namesake is that of lilith, the mother of demons from the bible. i would also like to share the disclaimer that comparing quincies and biblical demons to one another is not my intent, rather the overarching theme is a source of inspiration regarding lilith and the alias dubbed for her. like her namesake, she is a free-spirited woman who refuses to be controlled by anyone or anything, but is still a maternal figure all the same.

as a result, lilith considers even the descendants of the quincies she's created as her "children", referring to them as "my son" and/or "my daughter" - or simply "my child" if they identify as neither male nor female.

it's also stated above the cut that she has a connection to (reb's) yhwach. how is that the case? how did lilith earn her moniker?

this is where lilith's moniker comes in - along with another inspiration from the bible. lilith is an iteration of yhwach's mother, who's identity is canonically unknown. the biblical inspiration of this here is the story of jesus christ's birth - specifically, the virgin mary bringing into the world the son of god. in this case, it was lilith that gave life to the son of the soul king. rather than reb's yhwach staying with lilith to be raised by her, however, he was quickly taken away. stricken by grief over the loss of her son, the tears she shed were used to create more quincies - all of whom eventually began their own bloodlines and thus created some of the quincies we know and recognize today. because of the occurrence of these events, this earned lilith the moniker "mother of quincies".

what is lilith's role during thousand-year blood war? where do her loyalties lie?

lilith remains hiding in plain sight up until thousand-year blood war. as the arc starts up, she locates the walled empire and infiltrates in search of her son, eventually disappointed by the man he had ultimately become. she remains in the wandereich not to serve her own child, but as a reminder that while he claims to be their "father", it wasn't his tears that were used to create the rest of the quincies. in a sense, she's haunting the narrative.

lilith ultimately joins in the final battle against yhwach, wanting him to be put out of his misery rather than see his own hatred for humanity consume him whole. once the arc comes to an end, she returns to living a rather normal life, opting to live in peace alongside several displaced/orphaned quincies she had taken into her care as the TYBW arc continued.

[kittiewales]

lost characters and their sexualities bc i say so:

jack: straight. this man is not attracted to other men. he’s vanilla as fuck but in a kind way. strong ally. has a hard time keeping up with all the labels but he tries his best.

kate: i have never been more sure of a character being a lesbian. she has stronger chemistry with women she barely knows than with any men she’s paired with. she was ready to die for claire and sun. let kate kiss a girl.

sawyer: identifies as straight but has definitely done some stuff while drunk. has been to a drag show. low key homophobic without trying to be.

claire: pansexual. she is a lover of the human spirit. don’t know how she got pregnant tbh. she’s so innocent really. bless claire. get her a girlfriend though.

charlie: bisexual with a strong preference for women. has had some experiences with men so he doesn’t rule them out but has never actually pursued a man bc he’s shy.

sun: bisexual but doesn’t know it. her first kiss was a girl best friend but probably assumed that’s what all girls do. she’s wrong. she likes women but grew up with traditional parents so never saw it as an option. but she’s happy now with jin :)

jin: straight. doesn’t have many thoughts on his own sexuality. just loves his wife really. he’s a simple man. chill with gays cause he knows they won’t flirt with sun. cautious of kate (lesbian who has a crush on sun).

locke: this man doesn’t believe in labels. believes sexuality is a natural part of the human expression and shouldn’t be put into a box. goes to pride. makes a sign.

juliet: bisexual with a strong preference for women. should probably team up with kate and educate sun. has been very aware of her love for women from a young age. good for her.

sayid: straight. low key such a ladies man. a flirt if you will. has an excellent talent for spotting the lgbtq community. prefers gay clubs.

shannon: sapphic. she’s never been with a woman but she’s definitely had crushes on them. unlike with men she’s incredibly shy when it comes to her attraction to women.

boone: gay. this is a gay man. he wanted jack. jealous of shannon and sayid bc he also wanted sayid. it’s so obvious.

desmond: bisexual. a top. open to try anything once. goes to gay bars with sayid.

ben: asexual. this man has never had a sexual thought in his life. would like someone to grow old with.

hurley: probably gay. that’s why he’s never had a girlfriend. bc he doesn’t like girls. he likes boys. he’s gay. good for him.

micheal: a straight man yet again. unfortunately this show is full of straight men. strong ally though. he’d prefer a gay son over a thot daughter :/

ana lucia: lesbian. a top. hates men actually. is offended by their presence. pretends to be tough around girls but actually just wants to be loved by them.

libby: cottage core lesbian. wants to go on picnics with her girlfriend. poor libby.

[thatbitchsimone]

re gypsy rose: being center of attention is all she knows. i can't blame her for being attention seeking, because that's her whole damn life. she has always gotten attention from doctors, from people, from news, ever since she was a child. first she was the sick child and now she is the woman who was forced to fake being sick child who killed her mother, she lost the opportunity to normal life and normal behavior long, long ago. i can't blame her for going to the news or talking about herself, how can she know anything else?

thats also a really good point and theres probably at least some truth to that but idk if i agree that shes attention seeking in that way. like i dont personally think she craves fame or whatever i just think shes like… a normal girl i guess. like yeah she got onto social media right away, but tbh she would most likely do that even if she was completely unknown bc most women her age use social media and ofc she would want to participate and post cute instagram photos with her husband and pretty selfies etc bc why not? its what everyone does and shes finally free to take part in normal life.

and the reason shes even doing these press tours is to promote her docuseries which is where she for once gets to speak out fully and tell her story in her own words and be truly heard. she knows her story has been told by others, she knows about The act and the documentaries and how viral her story went while she was away, and now she wants to take her story back and tell it herself which is only fair and id probably do the same if i was her

and yeah she wants to meet taylor swift. well duh what taylor swift fan would not want to meet taylor swift? shes just sharing her dreams. shes always been a dreamer like that, and honestly if she gets the chance to actually meet her fave singer ofc she will take it. anyone would lol.

but anyway, she is used to having the spotlight on her just like u said but i guess rn thats almost a blessing in disguise in a way since that means she kinda knows how to handle it better than most. like id be overwhelmed as fuck in her situation but thats bc ive always been a private normal person who has never been in the public eye but shes sorta.. accustomed to it which is sad bc as we all know she never should have been bc she should never have been in that horrible situation in the first place but at least now that can be an advantage for her during the media hype. shes being smart with it and she wants to use it to help others and be an advocate which i think she will have lots of success in and do lots of good in the future.

i guess what im trying to say is that in my opinion shes not seeking the attention, the attention is already on her and shes just embracing it and making the best of it in order to do something good and to finally have her voice heard for the first time in her life. when u have gone through abuse and have had to keep quiet about it and keep it inside ur whole life ur gonna have that urge to scream it out and let the whole world know whats been done to u and its healing and freeing and empowering to do so when ur finally safe and ready to. she needs to be heard and seen for once and she deserves it bc everyone deserves that. its very human

[masckarlach]

OC questions tag meme!

THANK U USER FRAY @bg3 FOR TAGGING ME!!

i will be doing only wren bc ill be so honest theyre the only bitch ive developed

under cut :3

Name:

wren!! chose virtue name harmony but doesnt use it bc she thinks its cringe (subject to change throughout game, not Quite sure)

Nickname(s):

tavernkeeps tend to call them birdie or little bird :p other than that, their older sister calls them spots a lot (due to her little boney growths along their forehead and cheeks)

Gender:

wren doesnt think about gender much other than their chest is a nuisance. they dont think abt it in the sense that being a woman isnt something they necessarily like. see themself as similarly with being a man itslike. nonbinary by virtue of genuinely just not percieving themself and not wnating to

Star sign:

copypasting frays explanation here!! im not so good at lore stuff so my answer will be... off!

this is a little difficult because realms lore has changed on this a lot, if i'm correct in my information. from people being blessed by stars or entire consellations to each month actually having a sign in more recent lore. here is a link anyone doing this for realms ocs (like bg3 ocs) can use to figure this out! the lore on stars and consellations in the realms is spotty at best, but this could be helpful if you wanna go that route!

wren was born at the end of marpenoth, a few days from the start of uktar :3 their sign is praying mantis but i dont know what this means

Height:

just wanted to show wrenlach height giff :3

Orientation:

wren themself isnt too sure of this. theyre pretty sure theyre not into men but they like... havent really explored much outside of flirting with everyone they meet. they dont know but i do. trheyre a nonbinary lesbian.

Nationality/Ethnicity:

wrens an Unspecified Tiefling with a human mother born and raised and living pre Worm Abduction in the lower city of baldurs gate

Favourite fruit:

wren likes apples and pears :3 they think they taste like sand but they like the taste of sand

Favourite season:

wren likes whenever its not too hot and not too cold and not too windy and not too polleny. consitution (8) of a sheltered victorian noble child

Favourite flower:

wren likes potato flowers :3 theyve always been more of a herb person than a flower person truth be told

Favourite scent:

freshly baked bread. when its still soft. a little luxury she afforded herself once in a while whilst in baldurs gate, occasionally given as payment for a days work. wren likes the smell of bread.

Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate:

given the lack of monster energies in faerun lets go coffee. she thinks it tastes like pee pee and poo poo but shotguns it bc it makes her buzz

Average hours of sleep:

anywhere between 1 and 24 hours. roll a dice baby.

Dog or cat person:

wrens an equal opportunities animal enjoyer. dogs maybe. bc wren likes birds and cats keep killing her friends

Dream trip:

wren would like to stay home tbh. adventuring has made them grow as a person bc if they had their way theydve stayed curled up with the artifact in an abandoned house theyd found

Favourite fictional character:

the mermaid from the mermaid smut book wyll, wylls dad and shart have read.

Number of blankets they sleep with:

ideally every blanket in existence. they can make do with 1, maybe even none but they will complain abt being cold and the lack of pressure

Random fact:

wren bites their fingers so her hands are always chapped and bleeding

TAGS!!!!!!!!!!

@bigfatlesbian @oyyokat @orkbutch @lesbianshadowheart @atomicbouquet-heart and anyone else who wants 2 :p

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

ohhhh my god mac. mac. part 2 of the cullen games. that was SO GOOD. i knew it wouldn't be that easy to kill edward bro i KNEW it couldn't be the real edward in the arena but god it was so satisfying just for a second to think that maybe he was dead. man. this campaign is everything. one minute arthur was agonizing over his own humanity and about to kill a woman and the next he was throwing it back on a tree branch. supermassive black hole playing in the background while arthur played vampire baseball. the boogie bombs. what the fuck was that <3

and OH MY GOD THEO WITH THE INSANE ROLLS????? BRO JUST DIDN'T DIE??????? WHAT THE FUCK????? CHARLIE'S DICE WERE BLESSED BY GOD OR SOMETHING THEO JUST DID NOT DIE. THAT'S MY BOY!!!!!!!!!!! also I Understand his true faith thing. i get it now. i'm losing my mind over it. fellas is it gay to have such devotion and complete and utter faith in your best friend of all time to the point where you are literally immune to vampiric mind control?????? fellas???? is this gay???? is it??? who knows. thats INSANE though dude i so thought emizel and theo would have to try killing each other but theo just went "nope <3" and it was so fucking epic oh my god. theo is the GOAT!!!! FR!!!!!!

and arthur oughghgh arthur slowly losing more and more humanity by consuming these other vampires. what if i exploded. HIS WINGS BRO. HIS WINGS WERE SO SICK. THAT WAS THE SICKEST THING EVER. OH MY GOD. AND THE SNIPER RIFLE WAS ALSO PRETTY SICK NGL. god im obsessed with arthur he's literally such a mary sue character and i love that for grizzly actually. arthur just kept getting more and more cool and angsty throughout the campaign. i love me a man with cool wings who is also riddled with guilt and struggles to keep hold of his humanity <3

SHILO........ THE FUCKING. GUY OF ALL TIME ACTUALLY. ugh. dude. lemme tell u i went insane when charlie told bizly to remove shilo's innocence specialty after turning "edward" ugly. fucked up oh my goddd i love shilo fucked up moments <3 i love when shilo is fucked up and also loses all his innocence <3 also FUCK YOU BIZLY FOR DESCRIBING BEN'S LAST MEMORY. WHAT THE FUCK DUDE. WHAT THE FUCK. BIZLY WHEN I GET YOU. oh i am so so scared of what he will do as the dm for prime defenders. mac im scared. if he can make me almost cry with one (1) fucked up little guy i am TERRIFIED of what he can do guiding a whole story

EMIZEL MY BABYGIRL <3 he is my everything. my right hand arm. man. my confidant. my silly rabbit <3 THE LIL NOTE HE LEFT IN HIS OWN ASHESSSSSSSS BROOOOOOOO losing my mind im going to be thinking about that forever and ever. my favourite part was him sucking gabriel to death <3 i love those two and their homoerotic fights. i know gabriel is dead but how fucking funny would it be if he somehow came back next season just to fuck with emizel. i would love that so much. also theo is totally still alive trust me he is going to find emizel and they are going to kiss next season. trust me charlie slimecicle told me himself 👍

man. that was SO FUCKING GOOD. god. im excited im so so excited for if/when another suckening season comes out. i love these guys!!!!!! i want them back ASAP i miss them already!!!! i do like emizel and arthur but tbh shilo reallyyyyy really grew on me. innocent lil guy who gets his entire worldview turned upside down and then does extremely fucked up things and loses some of his humanity along the way but still has so so much love in him and will continue loving and caring despite how shitty the world is. what if i exploded and died right now i fucking love shilo bathroy so much i am putting him in a microwave in my mind and spinning him around i am throwing him against a wall so he makes a loud thud like a sopping wet beanie baby full of milk i am grabbing him in my teeth and flailing him around like a chew toy <3

OK. WONDERFUL. prime defenders next 👍 im so ready i am sure there will be no heartbreaking storylines and no angst and people will not die and it will be a good happy fun time for everyone!!!!!!

DUUUUUDE THE FUCKING. THEOS ROLLS WERE SO INCREDIBLE . BECAUSE THERE IS A RUNNING JOKE ACROSS EVERY SINGLE JRWI CAMPAIGN. THAT CHARLIE SLIMECICLE IS FUCKING CURSED . HIS ROLLS ARE ALWAYS SO FUCKING BAD AND KNOWING THIS GOING INTO THE THEO FIGHT I WAS SO FUCKING STRESSED DUDE. I WAS SO STRESSED. I WAS LIKE FUCK MAN CHSRLIE IS ROLLING FOR HIM HES GONNA DIE HERE. AND THAT SCENE WENT ON FOR SO FUCKING LONG . GOOD GOD. I love you theo soda i love you so dearly. ugahbhhhh. also yeah fellas it's totally fucking gay. they did a qna after the last ep and talk about the true faith thing and how it works mechanically and jonesy and i left matching comments on it that looked like this:

dude yeah arthurs whole.diablerie arc was so fucked up. he lost so much of his humanity at the midnight circle. god. broke ass ugly vampire still manages to be the coolest fucking guy ever. the curse of being a grizzly pc.

DUDE THE FUCKING. "I NEED YOU TO REMOVE YOUR INNOCENCE SPECIALYY" THAT GOT ME SO BAD. SHILOOOOO I LOVE YOU SHILO D:

also there is totally 100% a way gabriel can come back next season because IN THE FUCKING. DEFINITION FOR DIABLERIE IN THE HANDBOOK it says . when you do that theres a chance for the soul of the vampire you killed to stick around and haunt your ass. I need this to happen

I also love shilo so much i think if I had 2 pick a favorite it would be him. i just. he makes me so sad. he's my fucked up little prince I love him so much :( he's never gonna get to go home again dude. hhughghghhghh :((((

[katyspersonal]

Transgender micolash

Valid, tho tbh I am not sure whether you sent it to ask my thoughts about it, or just informed me about what idea you like? Sorry it is just hard to say with ask lacking extra words to make it a statement or a question, hahah

I've shared my thoughts about Micolash's attitude to themes of birth and pregnancy occasionally, especially in this post ( x ), but yeah, it comes down to: no matter what Micolash is born with, he would LOVE to have an uterus. So imo, if he was born female, he'd come to lack genital dysphoria and even feel elevated during periods, however would absolutely dread being associated with femininity or motherhood as a role OTHERwise. Like... He'd love what his body allows him to experience, but in terms of gender identity absolutely be a man. And alternatively, as a trans woman, Micolash would definitely take advantage of weird eldrich powers gathered to be reborn in a new body - remember what kind of setting Bloodborne IS! Alternatively, his gender identity could stay male forever and he'd JUST want a type of body that can birth life. He admires this shit to a bizarre extent no matter what!

Again, you didn't specify whether you mean trans man or trans woman Micolash, but in Japanese original Micolash is referred to with the status more akin to king/lord (pretty masculine), not 'host'. So if you mean trans woman, that piece should be factored in. In my mind, Micolash is a man (or, as I like to say, 'my precious boy'), but yes if he is a trans man I can't help but feel like he would yearn to change many things about his body... but not That One. Deeper voice and no b00b tho? For sure. But besides personal dysphoria, there'd be added layer of wanting to become a 'perfect human being' - both male and female. However, that would turn out... well, not so perfect. I think we all can agree the only character in Bloodborne setting who changes the body with eldrich magic and gets the perfect result is Paleblood Hunter when they turn into a squid! (no, Val, you don't get to make the 'is that Patches erasure?!' joke fhghfutjh)

On the OOOOOTHER hand, notice how most of Great Ones are feminine figures? Oedon and Mergo aren't even gendered in Japanese original, and I for one only call OoK 'he' because he appears weirdly humanoid and resembles fishmen, while his mom (who also has human face) is more similar to snail/slug women (sex dymorphism strikes again)! You might want to say "but Oedon-" but holdup! Ebrietas is adult version of what Arianna's child is and is known in internal files as 'bastard of the Moon' so Flora, a feminine Great One, could impregnate mortal women too, you know? So it is possible that a man could get gender dysphoria induced by close proximity with Great Ones, rather than it occurring initially. Like what if Rom for example is only a she after being blessed by Kos, because apparently Godhood in Bloodborne is feminine.

That being said, trans woman Micolash is not necessarily excluded! Just not an interpretation I'd personally choose, because Micolash and Rom in my thing ARE 'brother and sister' mentioned in Brain Fluid description! My Mico is a man no matter with what body he was born! Also, now that I considered it, for trans man Micolash it could work that he used to have full on dysphoria, but it was after communing with Great Ones that he got appreciation for organs of birth that was stronger. Basically Great Ones can shift one's whole self-perception by being TOO much of moms?

(Fun fact, @saintmicolash did come up with an idea like whole three years ago - that Micolash, born male, is reborn with female reproductive system after weird eldrich s3x with Kos, but he can't birth a human and instead can only convert human sperm into her phantasms. I think this fits the character well too, but this idea is just change of the body, without any gender identity change, so I can't say how much it counts...?)

[joyboythehopepunk]

expectations vs reality of humanity

so like. i'm awkward. but also charming. i'm bright. but i also have a morose side. i can be anxious. i'm attractive.. but i don't act like it. i don't flaunt it. i don't womanize.

tbh my self esteem is probably bad for someone who looks like me.

but also.. i'm smarter than average. i have to admit i'm intelligent, too.

having both of these traits in equal quantities has been a burden. and i know how that sounds. i know i have been blessed.

but i'm also a little insane from.. this world. the people. my experiences. i try to be a good person. but i can be a shit head. i can be ignorant. impulsive, emotional, and insecure. i try very hard to not take it out on others.

i'm so fucking bitter, tho. how can i not be?

yet.. yet i know there are other people who feel like that. they think it should be a certain way for them or in a certain situation and it isn't.

expectations vs reality. if the gap is very wide, what do you do? what's your response?

or what if you're just confused about the information you're getting? i guess the natural response is to avoid it. or to learn about it. maybe to get angry or disillusioned?

i've experienced all of those reactions to varying degrees in different circumstances.

i'm a human being. i bleed red. i have flaws. but i also have.. so many positives. like anyone else. i'm complex.. and weird. def weird (affectionate).

sigh. yet i am alone. and when i compare myself to others i see no reason for it, either. except i can't find someone FOR ME. that's what i'm looking for. a companionship i've never had.

and yes.. people have offered. but i just.. idk. i can't? not with them. i don't feel comfortable. i know some of the blame lays with me. maybe even sometimes most of it.. still. i feel like i'm trying harder than other people. to do anything. even just be human.

i'm as authentic as i'm going to get short of bearing my soul all the time.

i'm tired of being alone