#wow these are all so evocative

[macbethz]

i want to draw more child characters actually looking their age but im very bad at reading how old children are and theres no way to google "14 year old boy" without wondering if that put you on some sort of watchlist

[cilil]

Hi, do you have any advices for budding writers on AO3 or here?

Hey! :)

I've given this some thought and compiled what I hope might be some helpful pointers, but if there's anything else or anything specific you want to hear more about, feel free to ask again. Also I'm assuming this is about the amazing craft of fanfic and not, uh, building a platform or whatever (I wouldn't be very helpful with that, I'm a nobody x)).

Share what you feel comfortable sharing.

So since you're asking about budding writers on AO3 and Tumblr, I take it you're at a point where you feel comfortable sharing your writing online, which is amazing. Nevertheless, I feel the need to once again mention (just for anyone who may be in the same or a similar situation) that it's completely alright not to be comfortable with it (yet) or not to share everything you write. I share almost everything simply because I'm annoying and it makes me feel accomplished and since I've grown pretty comfortable with it, I might as well; but not everyone feels that way and feelings also change. It's completely alright to write just for yourself or a small circle of friends.

Don't worry too much about "being good".

I will be the first to admit that I deeply relate to struggling with perfectionism when it comes to writing (and other creative pursuits). However, as someone who's been reading fic for many years, tends to be into quite niche and obscure things sometimes and is rarely spoiled by big fandoms' abundance of food, I want all writers, especially new ones, to know that you don't have to write the most amazing, perfect, publishing-ready pieces. What matters is your passion and creativity, which will show in your writing regardless of skill level. Not to mention that fic is free and in fact a tool for many to experiment.

That's not to say you can't strive to improve or be good - by all means, I find it admirable if you want to hone your craft and make progress as you continue to write. Just don't let perfectionism ruin your fun and stifle your creativity.

How to get better without trying overly hard.

Aside from just writing, writing and writing (that is the most important part though), how do you improve without making it a point to do so? Well, if it works for you to read/watch guides or you enjoy specific writing exercises, that's great, but one thing that I find gets overlooked a lot in writing spaces is simply: Reading. Just reading for fun.

I find that I often discover little things in other people's writing that I really like and then I think to myself "wow, that's really neat how they did that, maybe I could take a page out of their book" (pun intended) and make it a point to pay attention to these things when I write. Essentially, it's like creating a nice patchwork blanket which is your style, made up of your own voice and preferences as a writer and cool stuff you picked up on the road.

Let me just name some examples, which, yes, are also an excuse to shamelessly blow some writer friends of mine a well-deserved kiss of appreciation. @sauron-kraut writes incredibly polished short stories with beautiful wording and atmosphere that have a lot of little hidden things to discover and dissect, and I want to steal her ability to set the stage and hide those easter eggs. @a-world-of-whimsy-5 is an absolute legend when it comes to writing medieval and medieval-adjacent stuff, and I learned so much from her fics. @i-did-not-mean-to has a way of writing with such esprit and wit that I always end up in a good mood after, a style of narrative voice I've adored for over a decade, and I've greatly improved my humorous writing in particular thanks to her. @crackinthecup has the marvelous ability to craft extremely emotionally evocative scenes, which have encouraged me to be more courageous and experimental in my sentence melody and structure. @tragedybunny has a way of writing that reminds me of coming home to a warm and comfy place, and I will find out how she did it and how I can do it as well.

So as you can see, it can be super helpful to compare notes with your fellow writers. Never be discouraged by someone else's ability; instead learn and expand your own.

Feedback, criticism and community.

Let me just get one thing out of the way: You don't have to take criticism from everyone. Or at all. As far as I understand, the fanfic community has come to to agree that we're doing this for fun and don't give criticism unprompted/when we aren't sure it's wanted or welcome. As a general rule: Take criticism from those you would also seek advice from. Ask for feedback if you feel comfortable, and if not, that's a valid boundary to have and I will gently smack anyone who presumes to pick apart writing that was made for fun and generously shared with the community for free.

The community aspect, however, should be taken into account on other fronts. While I won't tell anyone they have to interact and believe that, in an ideal world, everyone's writing would just speak for itself, it is helpful to engage with the community. Things you can do (both on Tumblr and AO3 if also applicable/possible) include: Respond to people interacting with your works, interacting with other people's works (for example while you're doing your reading sessions and looking at other writers' styles) and just overall being present, being talkative, going with the flow.

Again, this is not a must. But I will say that pretty much all of us want positive responses and interactions on their work and that just won't work if you expect everyone to show up for you all the time and never show up for anyone else. Engagement, passion and community are our "currency" in the absence of money and reciprocity is an important element of that. A lot of friction and complaints in the fanfic community regarding lack of interaction or entitlement are rooted in misunderstandings of this fundamental principle.

But don't take this in a cynical manner. Seek out what you enjoy, share the joy and passion and you'll make friends just accidentally - which is the part that I find makes fandom on AO3 and Tumblr so much fun! (I don't even want to be a "traditional" author anymore, I want this instead😁)

Find your groove and groove along.

Lastly, make sure your writing is fun for you or else it'll become a chore and eventually get ruined for you as a hobby. This is unfortunately a continuous task as your needs and interests shift - for example you might be in the mood to do an entire drabble challenge one month and during another month you feel so drained that you couldn't do another one. Or you might want to write something different for a change. Or whatever it may be.

Either way, one recent lesson I've learned is that I got too tied up in obligations and it left no space for spontaneous inspiration, so I never got to write what I wanted to write in the moment and it pushed me quite close to burnout. Do yourself a favor and always hold that space for yourself. In practice, this could for example mean that you do one event and on the side write this cool new idea you had, instead of doing three events - which is fun and games until it starts getting too much and you don't have time for your passion projects.

Finding your groove also includes the whole technical aspect, such as which writing programs you use, which device (or none at all), where you write, how to make yourself comfortable, how to get in the right headspace for things. I would also like to encourage all of you to be a bit crazy and whimsical about this: For example I've gone to the perfume store, picked out a scent for a specific character in a specific scene and sniffed it while writing the description several times now. Do what it takes. And say goodbye to your squeaky clean search history - you will research some weird stuff just to get that one line right.

So yeah, these are just my random thoughts on fic writing and what has been helpful in order for me to have lots of fun with this hobby. Happy writing!

[fernsnailz]

HI . GET ON THE DISSECTION TABLE. taking your brain RIGHT NOW OH MY GODDDDD. OH MY god ,,, everything in the zine,,,,,

obviously the quality of your work, the art itself is so good ,,,, but OUGHHGGGGHGH i need to bang my head into a wall until im unconscious . like the title itself, starting off . woe mama we are in for a fucked up roboty treat . your comps . your writing . in the most respectful and awestuck tone possible . i need to kill you

my favorite i think is how you draw gemerl ,, all the robots you nail their expressiveness but oughh ,, him in particular makes me kick my feet . 'you are everything i fear becoming' makes me actually tear the fucking floorboards up the themes of autonomy ,,,,,, ,,, and how you storytell through your comic panels,,, the 'what a fool you are to think the doctor is gone' panel set makes me drink 2 Monsters and eat glass

THE . THE IMPOSSIBLE GOAL COMIC RAGHHHHHH. FAV FAV FAV . geninely shaking and trembling looking at it like jesus thats so fucked up ,,, your mind . your writing is so everything !! i would love to get any insight for how you workshop it because it is consistently breathtaking it sticks with me so heavily,,, one time i accidentally stole a line of dialogue word for word from your Never turn back zine comic and had to change it dfhjd,,,,, (wow this line is so cool ! ...a little toooo cool. squint.) but yeah god the last comic wow,, your panel compositions are banger after banger you are so good at consistently writing evocative stuff,,, tragic, rlly funny, hopeful, its so inspirational

thank u so much for putting together such a cool zine, would love to have it physically one day !

GOD. THANK YOU SO MUCH THIS EDIT IS KILLING ME. this is such a rewarding ask to get, i'm so glad you picked up on these things!!

my writing work shopping style is. hm. a bit all over the place. i have a lot of thoughts about it i'll put under a cut if you're interested. there's a lot of little things i've picked up that help me out so so much that i would really love to share!

ok FIRST i should note that it took me so goddamn long to write this thing. like i had the very very VERY first concepts for metal sonic good future like. a year ago. the first scrawlings are literally in a notebook right after some thumbnails i was using for dance in fire and i was editing dialogue up until two days ago. i'm ill

BUT!!! there are a few things i like to keep in mind when i write/edit that have really helped me!

GET OTHER PEOPLE TO READ YOUR STUFF. ESSENTIAL STEP. i get stuck in holes with my work a lot and having beta readers and other eyes on this thing made it like a million times better

sometimes you have to kill your baby. there will be certain lines or moments that you ADORE that simply don't fit into the larger piece, and you gotta just cut it out to make it better sometimes. but usually this gives birth to an even cooler and more epic baby. or sometimes your killed baby is also resurrected later to be used in a different scene. does this make any sense

figuring out what emotion you want a scene to make people feel is very important - with this in mind, i also pay really close attention to how my writing or scene concepts make me feel physically. i think this is the thing that has helped me most with work shopping anything i want to be evocative. does a line make me tense my jaw? make my teeth vibrate? make my chest tight? do i suddenly feel the blood in my hands? if it makes me feel something within my body, i try to draw on that physical sensation when forming the rest of the scene.

ok this last one is. stupid. as i was wrapping up this thing i went through a final edit phase i'd call "Garten of Banban Vision." Garten of Banban is an indie horror game that has uhhh kinda mid dialogue. a lot of it focuses on exposition, and any emotion in it feels a bit hollow. with this in mind, i read through everything one last time and imagined like all of the lines were from a Garten of Banban game and spoken in the character's monotone voices. if the line felt like it could fit a little too well in the Garten of Banban world, i considered editing it. but if i started thinking "oh shit this is pretty good for a Garten of Banban game" i knew it was fine. do you understand what i was alluding to when i said my writing process is a bit all over the place

in conclusion. writing hard

[lemon-natalia]

Gideon the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 20

i just wanna apologise in advance for how long these posts are getting lol, i have a lot of Thoughts about this book

oh wait nope they are going back to the creepy lab where two people just got murdered. great plan guys

Dulcinea wanting to team up surprised me a little, but it really shouldn't have. she's been paying a lot of attention to the Ninth, and especially Gideon.

'thousands of years after you're gone ... is when you really live' this is such a different, almost warmer, perspective on death and necromancy, and i can see why it appeals to Dulcinea specifically, who's clearly had to come to terms with her mortality pretty early on in life. but its also part of the more disturbing theme that the past never really goes away, and can't help but view this line along the same lines of discovering the ancient study last chapter, and the ancient laboratory, and Canaan House in general, which are only just now having their secrets revealed, and the terrible consequences of those secrets becoming apparent, after thousands of years

'she grasped a railing, leaned over, and proffered her hand' well this is getting very courtly romance

ah yes lets go through the door decorated with a swirl of human teeth, i'm sure there's happy fun times to be had in there. harrow, resident goth interior designer who specialises in bone decor, is probably taking notes as we speak

even after hurting her hand twice, Harrow really just can't resist experimenting even further huh. she's so very reluctant to accept that her existing powers aren't enough by themselves for this

ooohhhh, having to literally suck the life force out of your cavalier to win?? thats so sick and twisted and i love it. these challenges are, again, clearly relying on this intense relationship between the pair, both in trusting them absolutely and in this literal soul-siphoning/melding link thing.

however, it feels like Gideon's really getting the brunt of it in these challenges. Harrow's absolutely putting in an awful lot of effort and power, but it's the cavalier who has to fight the bone amalgamation, the cavalier who has to have their life literally siphoned out. they're about trust and a bond between them, but also seemingly about a willingness to sacrifice your cavalier to achieve that goal, and i have a really bad feeling about where exactly this is going in terms of how exactly one achieves lyctorhood

'under no circumstances will i ever desire your juice' Harrow you may wish to revisit this sentiment when you guys (to my limited knowledge) eventually become girlfriends

'none of this is worth it, at all [...] i'm sorry. We take so much' i'm like 90% sure the voice talking to Gideon throughout all this was Dulcinea, largely because it doesn't really make sense for it to be anyone else, but there were certain lines, specifically these ones, that made me suspicious at first it might be some(one? thing?) else. but it also feels fitting that its Dulcinea coaching her through this.

wow, just wow, i'm really impressed with the writing in this chapter, and how the pain Gideon is feeling is expressed. its such an abstract experience/feeling to describe, but i think its done incredibly well

'Ha-ha, said Gideon, first time you didn't call me Griddle, and died' ok i know she didn't but THANKS for giving me an absolute heart attack with that sentence Tamsyn Muir

Harrow i get understand u are protective of Gideon but let Dulcinea comfort her plz

'you can't just ask someone why they want to be a Lyctor'. ahh the duality of Gideon the Ninth. this just evocative prose about how it feels to be on the brink of death, and then immediately afterwards hits you in the face with a mean girls reference. beautiful, iconic, effervescent.

[atamascolily]

Thinking about hands again, which brings me back to this shot of the bar where Junko Kaname and Ms. Saotome go for drinks, with Michelangelo's The Creation of Adam looming over everything. It's very hard to see in this shot, so here's the original for comparison:

This is an obvious reference to Kyubey's speech earlier in the episode about how contact (contracts) with the Incubators is what created modern humans: we have the divinity--albeit with a human form here--bringing life to mankind. There's a close-up a few moments later of the relevant bit, just in case we missed it.

(just noticed that the lines running vertically through this close-up are not present in the wide shot above, so they must have been added for Symbolism, lol.)

This imagery appears again later, when Madoka wishes to erase all witches "with her own hands" and we are treated to a much more benevolent deity hovering over a fallen human with outstretched hands, taking away the cruel fate that the Incubators have given to them along with the "gift" of being a magical girl.

This imagery is repeated in Rebellion, too, with Madoka/the Law of Cycles reaching out to Homura in her purple goop witch form, where she is reduced to nothing but a hand.

(Oh, wow, you can see the self-harm scars on Madoka's human hand in this shot, too, holy crap. Or maybe they're supposed to be wounds from the battle against Walpurgisnacht? Either way, Shaft really wasn't messing around with the symbolism there--from Homura's perspective, it's all the same thing.)

A connection is made and Homura transforms back into herself through the contact, again mediated through hands. Note that although they start out at the same angle as in The Creation of Adam, the camera pivots so they end up on the same level, but Homura's position makes it clear that this is still not exactly a relationship of equals:

Then we have an image that is incredibly evocative of The Creation of Adam, as Madoka comes to take Homura away to "Heaven":

... except things veer wildly off-script.

Instead of Adam accepting the gift of life from God, or an exhausted magical girl accepting her fate, Homura yanks on those outstretched hands, pulling the human Madoka out out the divine shell in a subversion of everything that has come so far and setting herself up as a divinity in her own right.

Given all the emphasis on hands in this series, I have no doubt this will continue to be a running theme and that any resolution between Homura and Madoka will involve holding hands--as equals this time--though we'll see how long it takes them to get there.

Additional Notes:

The original anime doesn't directly come out and say this, preferring to focus on historical figures like Cleopatra and Joan of Arc, but given Kyubey's role as the devil, this segment strongly implies that part of the "secret history" of magical girls at key moments throughout human history, myth, and legend would naturally include Eve gaining the "knowledge of good and evil" after an encounter with a certain serpent… which in turn would naturally lead to death.

"Human woman giving the transformative fruit of knowledge to her male partner at the behest of a telepathic alien entity who is diegetically both the Tree and the Serpent" is the central theme of Kamen Rider Gaim, so I think it's safe to say that Urobuchi was already thinking about it here, even if he didn't develop the idea more fully until later.

The Creation of Adam is also parodied in the forthcoming Rusty Rabbit game, also written by Urobuchi, this time with Peter Rabbit and Mr. MacGregor from Beatrix Potter.

What can I say, this guy knows what he likes.

[bapple117]

I’m not even a Bill simp… but I smelled cheese(good writing) and stepped into your mouse trap anyways! In all seriousness, I LOVE the way you write. Perfect balance of not being overtly wordy yet still really evocative and compelling! And that’s not even mentioning your superb grasp on dialogue? And I hate to say it…. but wow you’re making Bill’s blushing very cute and appealing, can’t lie! more bill blushes and dies scenes please /j. I like it when he’s pathetic what can I say.

AHHHHH STOPPPP I’m BLUSHIN over here 😭💜

You’re too kind. This message made me giggle like an idiot. Thank you so much for the support!

[oonajaeadira]

In honor of Catfish Day, may I ask a question? What is Frankie's best line of dialogue in TF? (also every time i consider deep and evocative world-building, i think about your stories and wanted you to know)

My Megan, my Cheese. You are a lovely soul, did you know???

I will admit that I've only watched Triple Frontier the once, but of course "We gotta fly over the fuckin' Andes, man!" is iconic.

This movie was what I VERY LOVINGLY call "Bro Fare" and is full of boys-being-boys, full of drugs and violence and military and bad decisions. And while I applaud the fact that it kept me gripping the back of the couch in a half escape, afraid for all of them and what could go wrong next, it wasn't really my kind of movie.

And now I'm gonna say something that may raise some hackles around here....other than Pedro and Oscar, I don't really remember the other characters. I know a lot of folks like Garrett or don't like Ben or whatever, but at the end of the day, I felt like the other three dudes were just playing your run of the mill military dudes.

But Oscar's Santi had a LOT of subtext. He was fighting against blaming himself for anything that happened because he called them all there and he didn't want to drown in it before they were out. There was a morally grey center to all of them, but I really feel like Oscar did an amazing job holding down the one that was the furthest from the light even if he was also trying desperately to protect them all. (Come after me if you want to say Tom was the worst, but that guy was just a damaged idiot. He's almost not even on the same scale.)

And on the flip side, I was amazed at the choices Pedro made to play the opposite end of the scale. You give a man a role like this, most of them are gonna play the military bro. These boys have seen service and it's easy to just play that stereotype (which, sorry, is what I felt the other three kinda did.) But Frankie is almost too soft of a heart to be there. His personality doesn't scream military in the Hollywood sense...because Pedro made a conscious choice not to play it. Any chance he could have swung into macho, he went the opposite direction, and listening to his lines and imagining how they are, flat on the page in a script, that role could have easily become that. He actually read his lines and found a different Frankie under them, chose to play someone who made bad choices and regretted them because he'd hurt people he loved with those choices. He isn't the loudest of the bunch, he's more a wallflower in the group because he's there to support, not be supported by them. And when Pedro asked himself, why does this man say yes to this with so much on the line? His answer was obviously love. He loves his brothers. He's at the fight not because he loves the fight but because he loves his friend. He hates saying no to Santi when he's asked to go because he doesn't want to disappoint his friend and you can see it in how he pussyfoots around his (very valid and nothing to be ashamed about) excuse. He ultimately says yes out of love and loyalty even if it hurts himself, even if it turns him back into the monster he wish he never was and Pedro made that choice to make it make sense to himself. And then he played THAT guy.

I love Pedro just as much as the rest of you, but I make a living in the theater and beyond his looks and his killer personality, I respect Pedro's acting chops and his choices and his deliveries so very very very much. I'm wowed by him on a nerrrrrrdily technical level. It's what drew me to him in the first place--when Din took off his helmet and told Grogu it would be alright and barely held it together, when this big tough warrior showed his face and that actor was not afraid to show that emotions in no way weakened his strength and could exist in a warrior in harmony, I was like WHAT IS THIS FRESH CHOICE WHO IS THIS FUCKING AMAZING ACTOR AND WHAT ELSE OF HIS SHIT DO I NEED TO WATCH NOW.

And now I can't unsee it. I love falling in love with his characters because they are so multi-dimensional, so nuanced, so real because he does the work and makes good choices. Every time a new role shows up, I'm a true Gemini: one half of my brain is squealing like a little girl because dur dur pretty Pedro boy and the other half is squealing like a little girl because OH MY GOD THAT'S A FKN AMAZING READ WHERE DID THAT CHOICE COME FROM.

He's amazing. And what makes Frankie amazing to me is all the easy choices he turned away from and yet made the harder ones look like childsplay.

[catmansquad]

Winged

Angel!Miguel x M!Reader (Body/wing appreciation, size difference, Miguel having a low opinion of humans)

Out of sheer curiosity, you try to summon an Angelic figure. You do not expect that one will answer...

Enochian Magic. The spells that supposedly allowed the evocation and communication with angelic beings. All you saw was a headache in the making; a mess of painted symbols and candles and half a dozen books on the translation. Not to mention the huge amount of wasted time and resources if nothing even worked. In fairness, you held out hope that it would work, just so it could. It would be simply fascinating, to speak with an Angel. You carried out the rituals to the letter, trying not to splutter over the more complex words that you had practiced several times over and still struggled. Hopefully, it wouldn’t cause it to fail. Your words fell into silence, and only silence answered in response. Did the candle flames just flutter? Was that a sign? Hope fluttered in your heart as you lifted your gaze and called out, asking for the presence of an Angel to make themselves known. Nothing. Sighing, you began to recognise the folly of your efforts and blew out the candles one by one, the melted wax could be cleaned up quickly before it set.

You had finished packing everything away, a box that could gather dust in some lonely corner of your home as a forgotten monument to yet another failure into a cult. Bundling the box in your arms, you turned with disappointment in your heart, and it fell from your arms with sheer surprise, crashing by your feet as your wide eyes took in the sight of the towering figure who now barred your path. In every respect, he was huge; from his sheer stature, and rippling physique of sheer strength. Your eyes wandered higher up his tan skin; gold bangles around his ankles and wrists, and a simple white kilt around his narrow waist. His arms were folded across his impressive chest, his broad shoulders were taut and bristling. You gulped at the sight of his handsome face, of his smoothed brown hair, and felt fear in your heart as his ferocious red eyes narrowed softly. The most startingly impressive thing about him was the pair of massive red wings folded tightly against his back. ‘…Wow…’ Your voice was a whisper. His eyes narrowed further as he leaned down from his towering height, so tall he had to stoop to not hit his head on the ceiling. ‘Do you hear and see me now?’ He demanded with a scowl, voice deep and heavy with irritation. ‘I am. Right. Here.’ His great wings ruffled and spread out, spanning so wide that they could reach from one end of your room to the other and still need further to spread out fully. You nodded frantically, eyes wide, still drinking him in; here was an Angel, a real, living, breathing Angel. He was impressive, handsome, and looked very annoyed. The combination became quite intimidating with growling tone of his words. ‘Y-yeah, I can definitely… See you. Wow…’ You didn’t even realise your shaky hand had been reaching for him until he seized your wrist sharply in his huge, warm hand, there was a threatening pressure behind his grasp that was just shy of pain. ‘Do you assume that you can just touch me, human? Such arrogance. I am not your obedient pet, here at your beck and call. I am powerful, I am majestic, I came here because I was curious, and I am offended by your callous ignorance and obliviousness.’ Your eyes widened, and swallowed the thick lump that had settled in your throat. ‘I.. I’m sorry…’ You pleaded in a soft voice, trembling with apologies. ‘I-I didn’t mean to offend you, I just really wanted to see if it worked- I just wanted to speak-‘ ‘Stop. Talking.’ You were not making the situation any better. Your mouth was going to get yourself into deeper trouble. His red eyes closed as a low sigh of irritation escaped him, his broad shoulders slumped.

Slowly, he pulled his wings back in and his grip relaxed on your wrist, letting it slip through his fingers and fall back to your side. When he opened his eyes, his gaze was still haughty, but softened somewhat as he rose back to as close to his full height as he could manage against the ceiling. Your gaze wasted no time in racing up and down his sculpted physique once again; power coursed through each inch of him for every minute movement. If there was any sort of higher power, this Angel was a masterpiece of creation. You swallowed again and lifted your gaze up higher; those powerful legs, narrow waist, rippling six pack, sinewy arms and massive hands, up to his broad shoulders and… and handsome face with those crimson eyes staring right at you. The haughty smirk curled onto his lips as your eyes widened, and you knew that you’d been caught staring and admiring. ‘Hmm…’ His eyes were bright, sparkling with pride. ‘When you have had your fill, human, I may charge for the pleasure.’ ‘F-forgive me…’ You spluttered, head bowed with eyes on the floor until a huge hand cupped under your chin and lifted your gaze back to his eyes. ‘Ah, my dear human-‘ ‘I have a name…’ You gave it to him and watched him nod in quiet understanding. ‘I am Miguel.’ He answered, widening his posture, hands on hips, wings ruffling. ‘… and I will forgive you when you earn it. Now, get on your knees and beg.’ Deciding that “Saint Michael” was a smug Angel, you shoved the box aside and knelt before him, hands trembling.

He sighed in soft delight as your hands ghosted down his calves and rubbed softly across his ankles. ‘Hmm… Perhaps I should have you rub my aching feet if you are so inclined to adore my form.’ You glanced up to meet his crimson gaze, he was still smug. ‘I… Think I’ve got enough of you to get on with already, big guy.’ Your hands ghosted further up his legs, blushing as he moved again, shifting his weight, flexing powerful muscles beneath your touch. ‘Wow, you… Really don’t skip leg day….’ He beckoned with one hand, fingers curling, to draw your gaze and grasp further up. You heard him snort a laugh as you pressed a kiss to his bulging thigh that could crush a watermelon or a man’s head with equal ease. Looking up, he peered down at you over the swell of his pecs. ‘Hmph… Do not hesitate, your appreciation of my form, there is so much left of me that requires your… lacking touch.’ ‘Lacking touch? Wow, you really are an ass.’ His gaze narrowed, one hand curled into a fist. ‘Hmph.’ His wings ruffled, a loose crimson feather tumbled to the carpet. Then he leaned down from his towering height once again, one hand bunched the front of your shirt and when he rose back, he pulled you back to your feet with effortless ease, then lifted you clean off your feet, leaving you to dangle helplessly from his grasp, near the ceiling. ‘It is very unfortunate, little one, that even at eye-level with me, you still cannot see things from my perspective.’ Your hand wandered across his grasp, tracing a bulging vein down his forearm and up his bicep. It was like the rest of him; huge and solid. He hummed in thought as you squeezed a hand against it, and the muscle remained unyielding. He could lift you with one hand and utter ease, just how strong was he really? Combined with his impressive size and physique, your mind plummeted straight into the gutter; the thought of him pinning you under him, that smugness on his eyes, the kiss of warm lips against your own, letting your hands roam his body, and him listening to your requests for him to flex for you. This Angel could ruin any human man for you.

‘Mhmm…’ The amused hum escaped him as your hands began to rub his broad shoulders. What was little strokes became firmer touches, an impromptu massage and you watched the Angel ruffle his wings again, crimson eyes closing as he rolled his head, a little groan of delight escaping him. ‘Mmm…’ He rumbled, gaze on you once more as you applied more pressure, trying to work the tension from his taught shoulders. A tremble ran through him and his tongue licked slowly across his lips. ‘This is it. Now, you are meeting my expectations… Ngh, my good little human…’ You felt his arm tremble, and he nearly dropped you as your touch ran across his neck and down his broad chest. The salacious moan that escaped him made your blush worse, you wanted to hear a few more moans like that from him. Your eyes ran down his form and gulped at the bulge that was beginning to form in his kilt. His hands were massive; their span over a foot, the rest of him was probably frighteningly proportional. Another crimson feather tumbled to the carpet and you gently rested your hands on his shoulders again. His gaze was far more relaxed, a small smile on his lips. ‘Can you-? Please, can you put me down, Miguel?’ ‘Why…?’ ‘Can I tend to your wings? A-are you moulting?’ That little twinge of irritation set across his face again, but vanished just as quickly as he slowly set you back to your feet and released his grip, leaving your shirt creased from his grip. You stepped around him gently, fingers hesitating short of touching those crimson pinions. ‘Do I have your permission, Miguel?’ ‘Yes. You can.’ He nodded slowly. You reached out with a tender touch, running slowly across the soft feathers. They were silken and warm, and you brushed against each one like, tending to the feathers that were already loose and tumbling. ‘Miguel…?’ ‘Mm…?’ ‘How do Angels tend their wings?’ Miguel sighed again at your touch and care. ‘With great attention and pride… Mm…’ One damaged pinion came away between your fingers, like all the others it was long and beautiful, a shade of scarlet that seemed to shimmer in the light and imparted a smoky warmth, like a gentle, tender flame. In the spur of the moment, you slipped it into your pocket, as a memory to cherish later.

‘Miguel, please could you… Uh, kneel down or something?’ ‘Why?’ He ruffled his wings as you took your hands away. ‘Uh… it’s because you’re huge and I can’t reach all of you. Please.’ A great, amused chuckle shook his form and the Angel turned to face you with a smirk, resting his hands on hips again. ‘Little one, you are too small…’ He spread his wings out as much as he was able and knelt down to eye level with you in a great woosh of wings, shedding more feathers. ‘I came because I was curious about your call. Amateurish, but still driven. But I struggle with humans, your kind are simply too small, I do not know how you live like this at such a stature. I had to make myself as small as I could manage to fit in this very home.’ He took your hands softly in his own, swallowing them in his grasp, eyes watchful. You took him in and met his red eyes once more. ‘… H-how big are you normally?’ He hummed in thought, eyes narrowing with a smug smile on his features. ‘I do not believe you could comprehend it…’ ‘Try me.’ He chuckled softly at your annoyed expression; his smirk only grew. ‘Very well, little one; imagine that you were the size of a single grain of rice. That is it.’ He released his grasp on you and pointed to himself with one hand. ‘Me, myself; my true stature.’ He held up his other hand, thumb and finger almost pinched. ‘You; a single grain of rice. Think on that, if you are capable. I do not have a high opinion of mankind, for I do not understand how such small, frail, and short-lived beings can achieve anything of explicit worth in their lifetime. My brother would disagree with me, but he is not here… It is just you and I, little one…’ He closed his eyes, teeth gritted briefly, as if he was on the verge of admitting something he could not bring himself to speak, then it passed his lips. ‘… Your touch is divine. Perhaps you can change my stance… Perhaps…’ His smug smirk returned as he turned his back to you once more, wings still spread and glancing over his shoulder. ‘Now, return to your task, little one.’

As soon as you massaged the points where his wing joints met his broad back did you draw the greatest reaction from him yet, his whole form shuddered, his wings twitched, and a great moan passed his lips. ‘There.’ He growled, voice rumbling with pleasure. You paused with hands hesitating over where you had touched, and Miguel looked back at you, you could see the blush on his cheeks. You had apparently found the erogenous zone of your Angel. His crimson gaze narrowed. ‘Touch me there again with such presence and I will not be responsible for my actions, little one…’ You slowly drew your hands back and watched his gaze narrow further as he rolled his shoulders. ‘I did not say to stop.’ You glanced frantically between his eyes and your own hands, before Miguel exhaled slowly, head bowed. For a being so large, he moved incredibly fast and the very next instant you found yourself shoved against his chest, scrambling to wrap your legs around his waist hands lost amidst warm feathers, ghosting over them, finding the joints, the warm muscles, and finally the point where the two met once more. He moaned again as you stroked, and he bucked up into you. Your eyes went wide, meeting his own hungry gaze. Proportional, indeed. ‘You are playing with fire, little one… I could burn you with it… Is that what you want-?’ ‘Oh, stop speaking and just kiss me, handsome.’ You saw that brief glint of annoyance in his eyes before he closed the distance between you, moaning into your mouth as your hands continued their work.

You were sprawled on his chest, surrounded by crimson feathers as his hand softly stroked through your hair. You looked up to meet his gaze; relaxed, at peace, still smug. ‘Did I improve your opinion?’ You asked with a smile, listening to his heartbeat calm, the rise and fall of his chest that carried you like a moving mattress. He hummed in thought, arms moving to embrace you against him. Miguel had been amazing. He had been utterly mind-blowing, his size, strength, and presence had taken you to the heights of pleasure and the crashing ecstasy that waited beyond, over and over again. You had taken everything he had to give you. A fine way to spend an evening. ‘My opinion of you has improved… You will have to try harder than that to drag up the rest of your species, little one.’ The smile on his lips was fond. ‘Perhaps, when you finish tending to my wings, I will give you a treat…’ You lifted your head from his chest, curious. ‘Perhaps- perhaps, I will take you in my arms, spread my wings, and show you sights that only I can witness. Great places of beauty that elude your kind…’ He licked his tongue across his lips slowly, eyebrows raised. ‘Then, we may relive our passions in such places. But you have work ahead of you, no? Mhmm… A task for later.’ His arms were secure, inescapable. You did not wish to be anywhere else right now. You would make his wings look beautiful, and maybe one day he’d show you just how big of a man he really was. Miguel considered the human in his arms, of the swelling fondness in his chest, and quietly decided that Gabriel had the right opinion on humanity after all.

[fallenrocket]

As an aroace, being a fan of the "hot" character can be so interesting. This applies to numerous characters over the years (everyone from Loki to Edward Teach to Finnick Odair,) but right now it's about Qimir on The Acolyte.

First of all, I get some aesthetic attraction, and I know that Manny Jacinto is an incredible handsome man. That's nice. I appreciate it. Qimir's character design is so badass and evocative, especially in episode 5, and I love that.

But it's fascinating, in an almost anthropological way, to look at the reactions online. Manny Jacinto, Leslye Headland, and the show are clearly very good at what they're doing, 'cause folks are out here gnawing on concrete over how hot Qimir is. There's an oddly lovely collective horniness going on right now over this character, and I can't really understand what that's like.

I'm definitely down bad for Qimir, but in a platonic crush/hyperfixation sort of way (I've come to learn that, for me, the two usually go hand in hand.) I'm losing it over Manny Jacinto's amazing, compelling performance. I love how unsettling and off-balancing he was in episode 5, and I'm super interested in his interactions with Osha in episode 6. I'm here for all the analysis and speculation. We just got a new episode last night, and I'm already waiting eagerly/impatiently for next week!

What I don't really get are Manny Jacinto's muscles. I mean, he has them, obviously. I saw his ginormous arms in episode 5, and the show plainly knew what they were doing with "that scene" in episode 6. But I don't know how it feels to have Manny Jacinto's muscles make the episode even better, to enhance my viewing experience in any way.

When I was younger, before I knew that I was asexual, I wrongly assumed that maybe I just appreciate characters on a "deeper" level than a lot of the fandom (hello, internalized sexism/purity culture!) But that's clearly wrong. One, I didn't realize back then that I was on an entirely different playing field than most people, and two, the horny fans are just as analytical about Qimir's character and just as wowed by the acting as I am. It's just that they're also horny.

That's what I find so fascinating, that tons of fans are experiencing this character on a level that's completely unknown to me. That I love this character with the same intensity but none of the sexual energy. It makes being part of the fandom such an interesting experience.

[rudjedet]

What is something you think it is cool or interesting but seems to be underrated?

In terms of egyptology, most of the stuff that isn't publically known. You know like, all the knowledge about Egypt that's in the public consciousness? pretty much everything else feels underrated to me.

People don't want to hear about the workmen's rosters of Deir el Medina, they want to hear about Tutankhamun or Ramses II. People don't want to hear about Tawosret's reign, they want to hear about Hatshepsut's bog standard time on the throne. People are extremely invested in the things that speak to the imagination, such as grand treasure, enormous statues, inscriptions with interesting stories about battles, and less invested in the bits that make up the day to day life in history.

Pot sherds? I fucking love them, not just the ostraca, but also the actual literal pot sherds that can tell us what period they're from by having one very specific lip or rim type. Iconography, epigraphy, being able to look at a relief or coffin and going "oh yeah that's X dynasty because Y bit of iconography, and also two different draughtsmen worked on this piece". The variance in Hieratic signs across dynasties. Grammatical intricacies. Diagnostics in the medical papyri. The fact they didn't have horses and chariots until the New Kingdom, the fact that donkeys weren't used as mounts but as beasts of burden. Flood plains, population numbers, emergence of the state, the economic structure and its development...

But to name one specific example that I think is probably particularly underrated, it's stone quarries. The monuments of ancient Egypt are so evocatively Egyptian, and while people say "wow man how did they even do that" a lot, and the whole "how were the pyramids actually built" keeps cropping up every three months or so, no one really wants to hear or learn about the stone quarries in use throughout Dynastic Egypt.

And if you were asking in general terms, Robert van Gulik's Judge Dee books are extremely underrated lmao. Much as though I've enjoyed Agatha Christie, Van Gulik is objectively the better detective writer. Plus, bonus historical fiction because it's set in T'ang dynasty China*!

*While the eponymous Judge Dee is a T'ang dynasty historical figure, the books actually portray Ming dynasty China in terms of morals and fashion. This is because the books are based on the Chinese work Di Gong'an, which was written in the Ming dynasty, and in these fictional works the historical period is seen through the lense of the time the text was written in. The initial five books in the series are, in that same tradition, always prefaced by a chapter as written from a Ming dynasty official, and it is implied that the story that follows was written down by that official. Which is another reason why these books are cool because as a historian and a writer as well (Van Gulik was a sinologist himself), I think extrapolating your fiction from the historical tradition you're basing it on is fucking lit.

[yes-these-obsessions-are-healthy]

Ok I’ll give Veilguard this. In Inquisition you grow to love Solas (if you actually like him, haters need not apply here). In Trespasser you can feel the weight of his hinted past and sorrow and feel that uncomfortable mixture of betrayal and sympathy but also more betrayal and doubt. You look at him as a friend or a lover, and in high approval he very much behaves as a thoughtful man with a touch of wry irony to him. But always gentle. That’s the framework Solas loving/liking Inquisitors see him in.

But in Veilguard… hoooo boy, I hate him (in a good way). Like I love him? But the game showcases him at his most snide, his slyest, his most calculating, his most haughty. We can argue whether it’s a facade that he’s channeling to help him push through to finish his goals or if his Pride is in fact twisting him, or if this truly is all of his flaws front-loaded for Rook and the player to see.

It *does* fulfill the warning that Solas gave Lavellan in Trespasser that he didn’t want her to see what he’d become. I came into the game a die hard pining Solasmancer and yeah, I wasn’t.. frightened or put off, but I was admittedly unnerved. In fact it fulfilled a specific fear I have of people, it being “I don’t know who is secretly evil”, so watching Solas sneer and talk down to Rook in their first two conversations from a place of power and self-importance made my stomach turn in an evocative way. It was effective for me, and they managed to keep the facade up by not making Solas one-note in his evil. He was regretful, nostalgic, and gave kudos to the people of the Inquisition. I was happy to know he didn’t see them only as pawns in the end. He did grow to care for them. But in his mind, that phase of his life, that “mission”, is over.

Like thank GOD they didn’t completely butcher this character. Lotta stuff surrounding him was fucked but Solas himself remained at least somewhat coherent and functioned adequately as a versatile ‘anti-villain that thinks he’s an anti-hero but also a villain and it’s complicated, okay, but he does have some villainous mannerisms that make you go ‘uh..hold on a sec, you seem to be enjoying that a bit..’ villain.

To see my man be that wicked to Rook is like.. wow, this is how he treats people he has no feelings for who stand in his way. The Solas we got in Inquisition was de-powered, and maybe you built an antagonistic relationship with him, but he got to *know* you. With Rook you are conversing with a Max Disapproval Solas from the jump. It is greatly derived from the fact that you foiled his ritual—you, some guy. He treats you like some random off the street who infuriatingly messed with his plan, because you are. You have no direct connection to him. You might as well not even exist to him. That it wasn’t eveb a former member of the Inquisition who managed to pull a fast one on him. If it were a member of the Inquisition he would have deemed them worthy. But you? You’re unworthy of having accomplished trapping him.

Like Who are you to stop him? Who actually in the fuck are you? You’re a whelp, you’re vapor, a waste of perfectly good yearbook space.

It’s giving Sovereign v. Shepard vibes, naturally. And I’ll admiiiiiiiit it was at least modestly interesting to see this dynamic play out with a humanoid rather than a giant eldritch space monster.

But anyway, yeah. Solas was kind of misused, as was everything in Veilguard, but there are some decent truffles to dig up in this mud.

[molagboop]

On Mawkin Honorifics

It's not unusual for Mawkin to have a descriptor following their given name. Surnames do not exist in Chozo society (though clan names do): honorifics are usually tacked on to an individual's name by reputation or occupation. Wise Wing the Elder and Hesek Golden-Eye are a few examples of Mawkin names with their honorifics attached.

Some of the older warlords have excessively long names because of an old Mawkin tendency to concatenate any formally recognized titles to their "legal name". You'll see this with the names of renowned warriors in history books: Hohara of the Twin Blades, Hethepsu the Perpetual Storm, Gorash Wind Rider, Na Hoatzu, the Astral Bulwark, Hileki of Labyrinthian Wit, Krahuul Ka, Whose Blood is Wed to Furthest Reaches, Iska Kai, the Edge Forged in Deepest Fathoms, Kasi Blade-of-Teeth, Whose Star-Worn Trellis Hangs in the Minds of All Warriors... you know, bog-standard names for the average Chozo.

This begs the question: are these titles self-chosen or ascribed by the greater community? It's both.

Raven Beak was dubbed "[the one] Whose Blade Reaches Furthest" when he took power, but as his reign continued for unprecedented centuries, that changed to "the Divine Sunburst". The name's both reverent and a bit of a tribal in-joke, as though to say "wow, this guy's gonna rule until the heat-death of the universe, huh".

Some of these additives are quite literal, but the vast majority of Mawkin honorifics are drenched in metaphor... which is how you get names like Kasga Orphan-Killer, a name ascribed to a warrior so ruthless, they could probably slay an orphan without feeling bad about it (but hasn't actually killed any orphans). Or Serubas Widow-Slaughter, who, in battle, never ceased their onslaught until all before them had fallen. Never slain a widow in their life: "Widow Slaughter" is just evocative of how hard they rolled.

You don't need to be a Warlord to receive a fancy honorific: Widow-Slaughter and Orphan-Killer weren't. Warlords merely tend to have the longest or most dramatic additives.

^ The "Orphan-Killer" in question. Was actually quite kind to children in their lifetime.

[galebrainrot2024]

Gale Seeking Godhood Part VII PATH 2

Wow. This took longer than I expected because it needed to be done justice so I couldn't rush it. This is choose your own adventure, Path 2 and conclusion. Path 3 will be coming soon!

Enjoy!

CW: Death

GALE'S POV

The letters blurred before his eyes, Gale brushing his fingers against his eyes and brought away wetness. Was he crying? What time was it? Gale blinked deliriously, realizing he must have fallen asleep at his desk, now waking from a horrific dream. 

Gale could not shake the feeling that the nightmare left in his gut. It was a dream that was so evocative it gnawed at him - it felt real. One that ruins the rest of a day. 

The dream started with you stood on the docks of Boulder’s Gate, the Chionthar just on the horizon. In the dream you stood between him and Raphael midbattle for the crown, and you - you stepped between them, desperate to help as Gale launched an attack. Gale’s heart lurched and he felt the bile rise in his stomach. The image was worse than he could endure. 

Gale uttered, “Dolor” - the disintegrate spell intended for Raphael - but it missed. Before he woke from this nightmare, the image of you dissipating to nothing but dust was engraved into the darkest crevices of his brain. Gale heaved, the violent sob shaking him. What was he doing?  

For six months Godhood was his focus. He was so close to achieving his goal - he should be elated, shouldn’t he?

The last three months spent in isolation took a massive toll on him. With not even Tara for company, Gale had never felt so alone. He hadn’t heard from her and ignored the constant communication from his mother. Although Godhood was within his grasp, the power of the celestial tempting, there was a deeper yearning.  

The dream shook him to the core, the blind quest for power and its consequences rushing over him all at once. How he had nearly killed you, how poorly he treated you, how poorly he treated Tara. It made him feel sick, disgusted with himself - he was no better than the Gods. He had no excuse and he felt a new determination plant its seed.  

***

YOUR POV

You are sitting on the docks when Tara finds you, something strapped to her collar. It is a warm night, a night that makes the sky blaze a brilliant pink and orange. The clouds look like puffy treats, as if you could pluck them from the air. A cool breeze off the water whispers through your hair. 

“It took me long enough to find you,” Tara huffs mind-landing and brushes her ears with her paws as she settles. You start by the sound of her voice and yelp. “Oh, my apologies, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’ve been give quite the task - Gale -“ 

“Don’t,” you said, holding up your hand as your expression darkened. “I’m not interested in having my heart ripped out over and over, thank you. I cannot help you. I will not help him.”  

“If you’d stop talking and listen a moment, perhaps you’d be inclined to hear what I have to say. If you insist on a closed mind, however, so be it. No wonder you an he got along so famously.” 

You grit your teeth and close your eyes, inhaling. You know if she asks for assistance you will not help. The better part of you is silenced by your curiosity and you indulge, “Fine.” Tara let out a forceful puff, indicating her displeasure. Her tail swishes and you take the warning. “What is it Tara? You came all this way, the least I can offer is to listen.” 

Tara seems assuaged and continues, “Gale wanted me to give this to you.” Tara looks at her neck and you raise a brow. “Yes, that.” You gingerly take the tightly rolled parchment, written on an impossibly small piece of paper. 

“I owe you more than simple apologies… I have been a sorry excuse for both a man and lover, and my behavior has been beyond inexcusable. I know I am not worthy of your time, company, or forgiveness. And yet - I write to ask for it. However long it takes, I will be here, waiting for you. -Gale” 

You feel the blood rush to your face, tears pricking at your eyes that begin to fall in large drops onto the parchment. You see your fingers trembling and Tara notes gently, preparing to take flight: “He forgot to note he surrendered the crown to Mystra.” 

*** 

You wait, absorbing and processing what you learned. You’re not sure how much time has passed since you received his letter. Not only did Gale want to see you, speak to you, he had surrendered the crown to Mystra after all. You fight yourself, unsure of how to feel - as if two parts of your soul tugged at the opposite ends of a rope. 

Your curiosity wanted to indulge this meeting, as did the part that desperately still loved Gale despite everything. Your logical mind, the one that wanted to protect you from further harm scolded, warned against the idea, warned against seeing him and indulging him when he hadn’t chosen you at the start. 

Gale wrote he would wait as long as it took - did he mean that? You are about to test that theory. 

** 

When you arrive in Waterdeep, Tara informs you that Gale is out - teaching - and wouldn’t be back for a few hours. Although you insisted you should leave, Tara refused and warned if you did not that she you would force her hand. You have no intention of finding out what that means. 

You sit for a while in the main hall, sunning yourself like Tara, not wanting to pry. As boredom and the nerves of seeing Gale ate at you, you decide to wander. You allow yourself to explore. You climb the iron stair to his study and the door opens with a click. It looks as it did the last time you were here and you inhale, a sharp pang coursing through you at the memory. 

You walk around the large oak desk, your fingers trailing across the smooth finish and you furrow your brow. Across his desk are all images - drawings. Some are crude sketches, some self portraits and a few of Tara lazing in the sun or playfully chasing a conjuration. A majority, though, shared the same subject. 

You. 

The first you notice was of the moment you pulled him from the portal. You are startled by how life-like it appears, gazing back at what feels like a reflection. There are dozens more, all memories Gale had of you - and some of a future yet to happen. You trace your thumb over the images and feel weak, collapsing into his chair your resolve evaporating. On some of the sketches are brief poems, words of both lament and love. Of a yearning that was visceral and you feel it deep in the marrow of your bones. 

“Oh,” your head shoots up and you and Gale lock eyes for the first time in months. “I didn’t - how are you?” He says breathlessly, although he hasn’t moved from the threshold in the door. He holds a pack, reading glasses a top his head and his gaze bears into you. You stumble as you stand and Gale lurches forward instinctively, “Are you alright?” Your breath catches as you realize the Gale you knew, the one you loved - the one you thought was a casualty of his ambition - he’s here before you now. His eyes are glazed with tenderness and something unconditional. 

“Yes, thank you,” You murmur and he clears his throat and steps into the room awkwardly, as if this is yours and he interrupted you in your own space. He stays on the opposite side of the study from you, seemingly hesitant to approach. You step to the front of the desk, closing the gap between you marginally. “You wrote.” 

“I did,” Gale breaths and begins to rub his chin, “I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you again. To be clear,” he said abruptly, “I am very glad to see you. I’m a bit shocked actually so please excuse my ineloqunece at present.” You see his face bloom crimson as he maintains eye contact with you and you feel your cheeks respond with a similar heat and you give a wry smile. You forgot how endearing this clumsiness was. It was so raw, so genuine - a part you hadn’t seen in some time. “I am so grateful you came.” Gale took a tentative step forward to test the waters. You allow it and he sighs, his eyes brightening and he takes another. 

You hold up a hand, crossing one arm across your chest. “Why did you ask me here?” 

Gale swallows and rubs the back of his neck. “How much did Tara tell you?” 

“Hm...” You toy with how much to tell him, if any thing at all and decide on the truth. “Only that you surrendered the crown to Mystra.” You see Gale’s expression drop for a moment, his eyes swimming with shame. It makes your chest tighten and stomach clench, your hand reaching out subconsciously though Gale is too far to touch. 

“Ah. Yes, okay. Shall we sit?” Gale gestures to his balcony and you follow, eager for the warmth of the sun and the sound of the waves lapping against the docks. You sit side by side, your knees brushing against each other and Gale combs a hand through his hair, looking out onto the horizon. “I…” he looks down and chuckles, “I wondered whether to share this bit with you - considering how much you sacrificed and did for me, it feels somehow… silly and unfair that this is was the final slap in the face I so clearly needed.” Your body quakes with adrenaline, your fight or flight in full gear and you bite the inside of your cheeks to ground yourself. “Do you want the long, sordid story or just the important bits?” 

You purse your lips, and say, “How about you tell me the important bits first, and then we can decide if I indulge you in the rest.” 

Gale gives a somber lopsided grin. “Very well. Raphael paid me a visit - a personal visit from a devil is not something to be encouraged, as we know. He told me that my having of the crown was for the best - that ambition was a delicious sin for an immortal to wield. At first I thought it was hyperbole, his usual dramatics -“ Gale pauses, looking at you, “I had a feeling that I could not shake, though. What if he was right? What if, despite my best intentions, I corrupted everything? More than just the Weave, more than the heavens - but all in this space and time. That what if ate at me.” You feel yourself smile. Gale is still incapable of telling a short story. Gale seems to realize this, noticing your look. It makes him blush and laugh, “Ah, you did say just the important bits. But this is all important, really if you think about it.” You smirk and gesture for him to continue, not wanting to influence his story telling. “It happened the night before I uncovered the final incantation. The dream, I mean. It felt so real…” Gale’s voice drops and he leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he holds his mouth with his hands for a moment. 

You watch him and he sighs before sitting up again and turns to face you and takes your hands in his. Your breath hitches and you feel the rush of heat flood you. His hands are warm, familiar and it makes your soul ache for him. You allow him to take your hands, chasing the adrenaline of him. 

Gale continues: “Raphael had paid me a visit at this point and I… well, as you might imagine wasn’t exactly in the best of health. I was exhausted. You… I…” Gale’s body shudders and he breaks eye contact with you for a moment before returning to yours. His brown irises are swallowed by black pupils and you feel your lips part. The world seems to slow. His gaze is overwhelming and his tone is one you’ve never heard from him. 

“I killed you. I watched you evaporate before my eyes.” You tense and Gale quickly continues, sensing your discomfort, “The spell was meant for Raphael and you… you stepped between us because you were trying to help. You were trying to help me.” You feel a weight crash down upon you and all at once Gale’s hands are on your cheeks and you feel your hands raise to cover his. Gale’s eyes are misty and his touch ignites you. “It wasn’t real, but I felt it forcefully. I have put you in such danger, harmed you more than I can forgive myself for, and the idea of that nightmare ever becoming a reality was too much to bear. A world without you… at my own hand… that’s no world worth being part of. I am ashamed at what I was willing to give up in pursuit of vain hubris. I am so, so sorry. More than words can express. And I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness and still I ask for it. I will do everything in my power for the rest of this mortal life and beyond to be the man you saw in me from the beginning. I love you.” 

You drink in his words and feel his hot breath against your lips, your vision blurred by how close your faces are. Your mind stills and you say, “I think we have work to do,” you see Gale’s shame for a moment, before you say, “but I’m willing to let you try.” 

You take a breath and Gale grins, tilting your head as if wanting a kiss, “May I?” Your lips part and you nod. When Gale kisses you it’s as if it would be the last. As if he had never had the opportunity before. As if you had died and this was just a dream. Gale kisses you in such a way you cannot doubt the sincerity of his intentions and you allow yourself to melt into him. 

[mathmusicreading]

Currently thinking about the title of Supernatural season 4 episode 1 "Lazarus Rising". It's so simple and so evocative. I think I get something extra from it because I love Terry Pratchett, Discworld, Hogfather, Discworld's Death, and the quote "where the falling angel meets the rising ape". (Do the Destiel shippers go wild with this? The Cas fans supporting his love for humanity and even creating free will? They should.) But just on it's own, it's referencing coming back to life and the phrasing has connotations of ascension and empowerment. It also avoids connotations of zombies or likening Dean to Jesus Christ.

On that note, I wonder how much Supernatural meant to parallel Dean Winchester to Lazarus of Bethany, and Castiel to Jesus for that matter. (With how little I engage with Supernatural canon, I think my thoughts on Chuck's relationship with Castiel are mixed and not set, but for fun right now: Castiel is Chuck's favorite angel, and Chuck hates it and hates him for it!)

Dean was dead for four months, much like Lazarus was dead for four days. (Dean was also in hell for 40 years, a significant number and amount of time in the Bible. And moving away from the Christianity angle, four is a fitting motif with Dean's death given "four" sounding like "death" in Mandarin Chinese.)

Dean is "the righteous man", while part of the title with which Lazarus is venerated is "Righteous Lazarus".

If "risen dead" evokes zombies and "risen from the dead" invokes Jesus, then "Lazarus rising" conveys that the subject of resurrection is a normal human, and the key is that they are resurrected by a great power who is good. Specifically, Lazarus is resurrected by Jesus, the Son of God, and Dean is resurrected not by a necromancer or demon, but by the angel Castiel, sent on a holy mission.

Jesus did not immediately save Lazarus, rushing to heal him upon hearing of his illness, but waited two days before traveling to and resurrecting Lazarus after he died. I can't help but feel like this is similar to Castiel's not rescuing Dean until 40 years into Dean's sentence in Hell, after he had broken on the rack and become a torturer shedding blood in Hell.

Jesus did not merely heal Lazarus when he was sick, but resurrected him after death, for God's glory and that people might believe in Jesus' own coming resurrection. (God resurrecting Castiel, anyone?) I think Supernatural canon is not explicitly clear, and it may be widespread fanon or a popular fan head canon that Castiel was sent immediately to rescue Dean, but wow the similarity to Jesus and his mission if Cas couldn't reach Dean or wasn't sent until after Dean broke because of heaven's ultimate plan to carryout the apocalypse, rescuing Dean not being about saving a righteous man but about breaking the first seal to Lucifer's cage.

Not full of meaning, but Jesus resurrected Lazarus in his tomb and still wrapped in his grave cloths. So for the people jokingly asking why Castiel left Dean in his coffin, six feet under, instead of zapping him out, it's because we're really leaning into the Jesus angle. (Is Cas lobotomized Jesus?!)

And the kickers now that we've gone through all that: Jesus wept. He was moved with compassion for Lazarus' sisters and friends. He mourned Lazarus' death even while on the way to resurrect him. It was well known by all that he loved Lazarus. Take that how you will and run with it, Cas fans and Destiel shippers!

Last thing not being included with the rest because you can't as easily get it just from reading John 11:1-44 or doing an internet search for Lazarus. DiscIaimer that above, I got the title with which Lazarus is venerated in the Eastern Orthodox Church from Wikipedia, and so too the following Biblical interpretation/theological commentary.

The miracle of the raising of Lazarus is the climax of John's "signs". It explains the crowds seeking Jesus on Palm Sunday, and leads directly to the decision of Caiaphas and the Sanhedrin to plan to kill Jesus. Theologians Moloney and Harrington view the raising of Lazarus as a "pivotal miracle" which starts the chain of events that leads to the Crucifixion of Jesus. They consider it as a "resurrection that will lead to death", in that the raising of Lazarus will lead to the death of Jesus, the Son of God, in Jerusalem which will reveal the Glory of God.[17]

Dean's resurrection led to Castiel's death. Castiel died because he saved and loved Dean. When Castiel first laid a hand on [Dean] in Hell, he was lost! Castiel died because Chuck is a Pharisee that can't accept his manly everyman main character (sorry, Sam) is bisexual instead of straight. Chuck can be bisexual, but the manly everyman main character has to be straight, and so he killed Castiel for it. Dean too if you believe Chuck won.

And if the point of Lazarus' resurrection is Jesus' divinity, then the point of Dean's resurrection is that the angel is gay and Dean is bi!

[cottoncandylesbo]

Hey I just needed to say that I love your art so so much. You have an incredible ability to make characters evocative and expressive!! You're doing so fucking great. I wish you all the best!!!!

wow, thank you so so much!! that means the world ♥️♥️♥️♥️

[orcelito]

orcelito's trigun fic recs!

making this for @trigunfanfic's fic appreciation week! this is a nonexhaustive list & not in any particular order (aside from the smut fics, which i separated into another section). just a few fics i rly love & think should get more attention!!

so Here are the multichapters (some of which have smut, but it's not the focus):

someone to last your whole life by catchatter / @needlab7

this one is sooooooooooooooooooooooo 🥺 i was reading it as it was being released and MAN it drove me insane. every bit of the post-trimax love and healing i couldve ever wanted. genuinely one of my fav trigun fics. it's just so well written & evocative. it really does feel like Vash and Wolfwood... and just. aughghghgh im gonna have to reread it sometime bc it truly is something special

CAUSE OF DEATH (See instructions and examples) by neatrogenous / @floofyfluff

this is the other post-trimax fic that Changed My Life. i read it all in one go in one euphoric hyperfocus. i felt every emotion known to mankind. it is just. slkdfjsldfjlskdfj god. i adore how Vash is written here. both of them, really. it just feels so much like them. someday, i will reread this one Too...

Make it to Daybreak by @hypermoyashi (on both ao3 and tumblr)

god. what to say about this one. honestly i have never watched Demon Slayer so going into this fic i was missing that context, but i never felt like i was actually missing out on much. Allen does such a fantastic job at bringing u into the world without having to know anything about it at all. i LOOOOVE demon vash sooo much. so very much. im a little behind on updates rn sldfsdfkj but im excited to catch back up bc everything about this au is just Sooooo fun. everyone potentially interested in Demon Vash should read this. Do it. Right Now. 🥺 pls

Trillium and Ivy by @shastafirecracker (on both ao3 and tumblr)

AUGHHHHHH omfg this one was one of the first fics i read for trigun, and MAN it really set a high bar for me. im a little picky when it comes to modern aus, but this one is just so.... WONDERFUL... i read the entire thing in the first half of my day one day and spent the rest of my day in a fugue state. it was just SO SO SO good. i recently reread it and even having read it before, it was just as wonderful to read. realistic relationship development, compelling Saverem drama, all of it. it's also probably my favorite fic for the depiction of Vash's injury & recovery. the first time i read it i was just blown away by how realistic it felt, right down to the trauma memories of watching bargain bin movies while he was stuck in bed. honestly i could rant for forever about this one lol. it truly is special.

and RELATED TO THAT,,,

Wildflowers, also by ShastaFirecracker

i actually didnt know these 2 fics were written by the same person at first lol. Wildflowers got linked in my trigun server & i checked it out bc Fuck Yeah trans wolfwood. and then had my world just blown away. it's SUCH a good fic, & i really am such a sucker for fantasy au. and i was just absolutely gushing about how realistic the depiction of trans wolfwood was even before i finished the fic. SUCH a great fic. so imagine my surprise & delight when i went back to reread Trillium and Ivy and realized -- OH FUCK, it's by the SAME PERSON !!! such beautiful writing, For Real. i really do love these 2 fics.

Sun, Moon, and Stars by tragic_unpaired_electron (can't find a tumblr link on the fic or ao3 profile, so if anyone knows them feel free to share this with them pls !!)

WOW LOOK it's a fic that doesnt have VW as the main focus!!! unfortunately the only one of those on this list (i May be a tad predictable...), & it really earned its place here. it's just such a fascinating fic that answers the question of What If Tesla Survived? i adore the exploration of her strengths and struggles, as well as her sibling relationship with Knives and Vash. it's so INTERESTING, and it gets into the meat of fighting for the rights of Independent Plants (and plants in general) and just. man. i read this and wanted to devote my life to one Tesla Saverem. she is so precious and hard-headed and SUCH a good big sister. pls do read it, it's such a lovely fic

and NOW...

onto the smut fics lol.

there are Plenty of very good smut fics around, but these are the ones that really stuck with me. either for being Different than the norm, or just being very... well. ya kno lol.

dont worry about the picture this paints of me lmfaoooo

you'll never get enough by tagteamme / @phaltu

AGHHHHHHHHH oh my god this fic made me FEEL things. it's a boxer / gym au, and MAN does it do it well. u get the sweaty gym setting, u get the homoeroticism & horny pining, u get the blatant masochism that drives them both... im just obsessed with it. that stove scene is going to stay with me For Life. & the smut is of course VERY good, but the Vibes... oh the Vibes are so impeccable. obsessed.

there is a season for all things by SolidShrimp (cant find their tumblr on the fic/profile, but i Know ive seen them on tumblr 🤔 if anyone knows their url, pls do me a favor and send this to them!)

THIS ONE.......................... man. man. man. man. like i know xeno is The Average for fandom vash, except the normal flower "plantussy" doesnt really do much for me. im too much of a monster fucker for that i guess. it's not BAD, just not particularly exciting. this, though? now, THIS one left an impression. ive already gushed about it to the writer in the comments of the first fic (havent kept up with the sequel fics, tho i really should catch back up sometime) so i'll keep it brief here. just. such an UTTERLY delightful inhuman vash portrayal, to the point where his reproductive biology is just plain incompatible with Wolfwood & Meryl's (oh yeah, it's mashwood, which is WONDERFUL...). wolfwood and meryl are in over their head trying to figure out how to get vash off in his own way, but they do their Absolute Best!!! it's just rly sweet and i adore the way the writer went Full Ham into the inhuman aspects. utterly delightful.

Kick me once again, and say we'll never part by epsilontauri (doesn't look like they're on tumblr? there's just a link to their twitter on the fic. but if anyone knows them, feel free to send this to them!)

this one is. so. very. AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. ok i will be honest this is probably my favorite vw smut. and it's barely even smut. the sequel is definitely much more sex, but this one is. well. it's some extreme, dangerous, and barely negotiated S&M. as the saying goes, it's neither Safe Or Sane, but it sure is consensual! it's just so. well looking at just the tags sure does reveal it. horrible coping, it's an intense fic, but it's just so.......... DELIGHTFUL........... i really really really love fics that stick to their guns like this. and i love how even though Wolfwood had a GREAT time, we get to see how it kinda freaked Vash out (he did Not like hurting Wolfwood), so the sequel is good for a fic where they're both genuinely having lots of fun. this one is actually rather not fun for Vash. but it's just. it's about the Extremity of it. the Possessiveness. pushing someone to their absolute limits!!!!!!!!! this is another fic that i rambled in the comments about bc. yeah. yeah. it's. just trust me. if ur into fucked up dudes being fucked up dudes, this is the fic for you.

& OKAY i think that's my list. again, it's nonexhaustive, but ive had enough typing i think lol

hope u guys enjoy the recs 🥺