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markscherz · 9 months

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This might be a weird question but I can't think of a better person to ask! My nibling recently came out as non-binary and wants to change their name, but they're struggling to find something they are happy with.

They were given a feminine name at birth and are currently using a masculine name, but aren't happy with either of them. Every human name that's suggested to them is either too masc, too femme, or has poor associations. However, they love frogs, so I wondered if that might be a solution.

I've tried to find frog names that might work as a human name, but so far I'm not having much luck. It's not allowed to start with R or J, and apparently it's not allowed to have an X in it because nibling thinks they're "not cool enough" to carry that off (I've tried explaining that they're wrong, but 16 year olds are very sensitive).

If this isn't too weird a question, can you think of any frog or toad names that might be manageable as human names? We live in the UK for reference

So many thanks for even reading this giant info dump 💕

Wow this is only the second time I have gotten to help find a name for a human. What an honour.

Okay firstly, sounds 100% like your nibling is cool enough to use an X (despite my current negative emotions associated with the letter due to the Elongated Muskrat), and there are some *amazing* names out there with X's in, so they should at least consider them. Scinax and Ixalus for instance are great. Ixalus has a fun history: originally it was coined as a replacement name for Orchestes, which wasn't available because there was already a beetle genus called Orchestes. But then it turned out that Ixalus was *also* not available, because the world's most beautiful antelope, the bongo, was already called Ixalus. Only, the bongo had already been called Tragelaphus. So now Ixalus isn't the name used for *any* animal. Ixalus is Greek, meaning 'bounding, springing, spry'. Also there are numerous other frog genera that use the ending -ixalus, such as Heterixalus, Micrixalus, etc.

But, taking the lack of X seriously, here are some other alternatives. I will avoid names that are derived from other people's names, and focus on names that have a neutral ring to my ear, and are also euphonious (nice to say or hear) and fewer than four syllables. I am also only considering genus names, because there are too many species names to choose from:

Acris — meaning sharp, sour, bitter, pungent, sharp, keen, acute, energetic, eager, etc. Technically this is the feminine version of the adjective; the neuter version is Acre, but I do not think anyone would read 'Acris' and immediately think either gender. It is supposed to be pronounced with a long a, as in 'hard', but a lot of people pronounce it with a hard a as in 'ace'. This name is most familiar to Americans, because Acris are cricket frogs, widespread in the US.

[Acris crepitans, src]

Mantis — of course, the genus Mantis was coined by Linnaeus in 1758, and so it is unambiguous that this is not a frog name. However, it is very often used as part of frog taxonomic names, such as Chiromantis, Boehmantis, Guibemantis, Gephyromantis, Phlyctimantis etc. Mantis is Greek (μάντης), and means oracle, prophet, soothsayer, seer, clairvoyant, or fortune teller. The name has the feminine gender in its language of origin, but that has no bearing on its use, which, barring the character in the Marvel movies, does not seem particularly gendered to me.

[Pristimantis cruentus, src]

Dasypops — simply a delightful name, but probably not neutral enough. I have not been able to figure out what the etymology is; it might be a play on Dasypus, the Greek word meaning 'rough-footed', which is a genus of armadillos. The frog is also spectacular, but there are no photos I can legally share on tumblr.

Kaloula — a euphonic name with an unclear meaning. Very round frogs. I love them.

[Kaloula pulchra, src]

Adelotus — means 'unseen'. These are 'tusked frogs'. Males have crazy extensions of lower jaw bones, and they fight with them.

[Adelotus brevis, src]

Taruga — a Sanskrit name meaning 'tree climber'. I fucking love this name, and the frogs are just *chef's kiss* POINTY, and have really committed to bold colours.

[Taruga eques, src]

EDIT: I have been informed that taruga means ‘blockhead’ or ‘numb skull’ in Spanish, so it might not be the best choice. Sorry!

If the nibling would like to check out a list of genera themselves, there is a tolerably complete list here.

I hope this helps!

#frog #frogs #frogs and toads #names #animals #nonbinary #answers by Mark #annamelia-art #herpetology #I guess

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real-fire-emblem-takes · 3 months

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hi to chrom hater anon i'm a professional chrom enjoyer

if you get deranged enough about awakening i think chrom is a very well done character :) he's ignorant but well meaning which meshes in interesting ways. he's not overtly prejudiced to the plegians he knows personally but still *generally* prejudiced because of his upbringing.

additionally in discussions of the ylisse-plegia war he tends to focus on how ylisse came away from it because that state of ylisse is what shaped his formative childhood years (seen particularly in his feelings about emmeryn's early years as exalt). this is UNDERSTANDABLE but still an extremely DEEPLY FLAWED and naive stance when doing politics on a larger scale, which chrom is incredibly ill-prepared for. it's a very childish view of a large scale conflict.

chrom's propensity for violence is a trait that actually deeply fascinates me. he has intense admiration for emmeryn's desire for peace yet he has a very short temper in tense situations (seen in basically all of chrom's interactions with gangrel), and he tends to lash out easily at anyone he views as an enemy. he admires peace but sees no other means to achieve it than violence. isn't that interesting. the implications here. like, he's the inheritor of the falchion, he's the only son in his family, in all likelihood it was expected that HE would take the throne and continue his father's war, but he was so young when the exalt passed that the crown went to emmeryn instead.

it really seems like emmeryn intentionally kept her siblings away from politics, which results in BOTH of them being naive in vastly different ways, with the expectation that she would always shoulder the burden of the crown yet left all the bigger a void when she died.

mind, intentionally being raised to behave this way isn't an excuse either. it's ultimately still something chrom, as an adult, SHOULD examine critically. this is, in fact, a character flaw, and i think its great.

you can then of course do nice little compare and contrast at the shitty dads, i.e. chrom's dad vs validar. robin's first act as an awakened god is murdering validar. robin became the monster everyone saw them as, the one their father thinks they were born to be. it's a neat lil nature vs nurture comparison if you really get into the depths of grima-ology (hi grima ✌️ mutuals).

to dig more into points the chrom hater anon makes.

"chrom is transphobic for killing excellus" do you hear yourself. excellus was an enemy commander. chrom has no personal grievances against the commanders other than they are part of the army with the known intent to raze ylisse.

SAME WITH ROBIN BURNING DOWN THE BOATS. THEY ARE AT WAR. IF ROBIN DIDNT DO THAT THEY'D ALL GET KILLED. they would have to fight the valm forces ON FOOT and BE KILLED VIOLENTLY because they are vastly outnumbered. it would be weird if he WASN'T at least happy about this.

he could stand to be regretful about the massive loss of human life but honestly hashtag robin warcrimes W.

"chrom makes sure to only recruit white ylisseans" i think this is just dev colorism actually. like you know how robin's dad (who is evil) is brown, but robin (who is good) is white? and how that makes no sense and robin should logically also be brown? i dont think chrom would've turned down if like, mustafa joined him. it is simply that intsys was still in their racism era (which is, tbh, only really ended with engage, like, cmon, look at literally all of FE, this isn't a chrom flaw, it's a FE being racist flaw.)

same with the sexism things actually FE is just homophobic and sexist a lot so all the characters are also by extension. this is called doylist analysis

Chrom tells Aversa "One person's life means nothing in the shadow of millions" Chrom is a hypocrite i hope this helps. additionally what aversa is doing is "help the dark god literally causing the apocalypse rn" whereas the sacrifice/save robin choice is "doom people in some hypothetical far off future" which is FAR less personal than "all of humanity RIGHT NOW".

TLDR: the real chrom enjoyers know about his character flaws and love him anyway because it's nice flavor to chew on

also never insult my beautiful daughter lucina ever again. she is deeply compelling even if she is narratively underutilized. anyone who calls themself a chrom fan and hates lucina is a faker and will not survive the winter.

also learn the difference between flaws of the story's writing and flaws of the character otherwise everybody in awakening is sexist.

anon you should read chrom/grima fanfiction unironically we fucking love tearing this dude to shreds for his flaws. this has all been a ploy to say that. chrom is naive and selfish and hypocritical and i love him very much he is my wif e :)

#fe #fire emblem #chrom fe #chrom fire emblem #i am no longer neutral on chrom #fe13 #fe awakening #fire emblem awakening #what am i witnessing #fave takes <3

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writing-with-gremworm · 1 month

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A Bothersome Herbivore

I'm not sure when it happened, this tiny herbivore started clinging to me. It's hard to get a break since they follow me everywhere. When I nap, they nap beside me. When I eat, they follow along. Though, the latter is better than the time they slept so soundly I was able to leave them for a few days. When I went back to my normal napping spot they were sitting like a dejected mouse. They had teary little eyes, and their complexation was terrible.

I learned later that they slept through lunch, so they ended up just not eating the first day, and they refused to move during the weekend when I hadn't retuned yet. The worst part about it is they were so happy when I came back. They were like a stupid dog, so happy to cling to me again.

I let them be for a while. It wasn't really my problem, and they didn't actually bother me most of the time. They were surprisingly quiet.

"Why exactly do you follow around like a lost dog?"

"I dunno. I just like you. So, I stay with you, because you're safe."

It was weird. I shouldn't be safe for them. I'm just a lousy second prince with nothing in my future but disappointment. I am, and will always be, second best in the eyes of anyone else, so why is it that this creature clings to me? I still don't understand it.

The thing that irks me the most is that I started to worry about them. I woke up from a nap as usual, expecting them to be beside me. They weren't there. The little mouse had scurried off somewhere and that made me uneasy.

"This is bullshit."

I must have done so subconsciously, but I ended up looking around the places I usually went, expecting to find them there. I only found them when I returned to the greenhouse. They were sitting, waiting for me to come back.

"Leona!" They sounded so happy, their eyes lighting up as if the best person in the world was standing right in front of them.

"Ah." I had so many questions, but none of them mattered. 'Why did you wait? Where did you go? Are you okay?' They were here, so why did it matter?

We returned to routine. But one thing did change. I started leaning on them. I don't know if they noticed, they never mentioned it to me. This change ... felt necessary.

In time it felt stranger to be separate from them than to be near them. In a way, I guess I must have found them comforting too. So, it felt strange when one day, they started crying.

"What's with the tears?" I asked, not really expecting an answer.

"I don't know. I just- I." They sobbed quietly, sniffling and rubbing their eyes. They tried so hard to calm down, only to sob more. It hurt, hearing them quiet their sobs. I felt like I saw a bit of myself in them. Maybe that's why I spoke up.

"Don't force it, just sob okay?" It was a useless comment. They would probably cry for a while anyways. They did stop trying to choke back their sobs, though they kept sobbing quietly, as if they forgot how to cry loudly.

"I'm scared. I don't know if I want to go home or stay here. I feel unwanted either way. I don't know if anyone would miss me if I left, of if anyone in my world even realizes I'm gone. I'm terrified because it doesn't matter which world I choose. I'll be alone again in either world."

A beat.

Right, they needed to go home eventually. They weren't from this world. I forgot that somehow. Unlike Yuu, who was social, this one wasn't particularly close to anyone. Except maybe ... me.

"Oh? Aren't I right here? Do you think I'll forget you because you vanish for a little?"

"I-I ... I thought you were annoyed by me."

"Then why would I let you cling to me? I could have actively ignored you."

"But you ... you left me alone and I ..."

"So? People can change their minds. I'm not running from you anymore, so don't go running from me, okay?"

"Heh, hehehehe."

"Why are you laughing?"

"Sorry I just- I didn't expect you to say something like that. It's so sweet."

"Don't get used to it."

"Hehe, I know. I'm just ... Thank you."

"... It's fine."

Things were nice after that. We returned to routine.

Or, as close to routine as possible. I found myself gazing at them for longer than I intended. If they were still asleep when I was up, I would pick them up. If they were hungry, we'd eat early, or I'd get Ruggie to buy us snacks.

'Fuck.' I had fallen for them. It was confusing. They weren't particularly pretty, or smart, or even useful. Even so, I found them undeniably breathtaking. I couldn't look away from them.

It was juvenile, but I couldn't help but touch their hand. Just to feel their skin against mine. I wanted to kiss their forehead, to hold them in my arms, to claim them.

I'm no idiot. I know I'm handsome, I know my position, though lesser than my brother's, is coveted. I understand that being a member of royalty limits my options for love. Despite everything, I wanted them to stay with me. If nothing else, I just wanted to continue our days like this. The litte moments of warmth, their laughter, their joy. I wanted to bask in it.

When did my world stop being gray?

No, not my world. Just them.

It's still hard to justify waking up, to find a reason to move forward every day. But even still, I want to be selfish and be beside them. I wonder if this is what it means to feel safe with someone.

"I'm going to graduate this year. You've still got a few years left."

"... Yeah ..." They smile sadly.

"Come to me. When you finish. Find me, and I'll have a napping spot ready to share." It was a stupid promise. They might be blocked from my side. They might not even be able to understand me outside of school property.

But I think their smile was worth it.

"You've been sulking in that window every day, brother." A grating voice says, a smirk decorating the words.

"So what?" I glare, irritated by the interruption. I come to this window whenever I think about them. It seems like a spot they'd like. Or maybe they just liked me. Maybe after all this time they forgot me. It would be better that way. For them to forget me, they can live a different life, instead of being tied to the second prince.

"I was just worried. How can I not worry a little when you're my brother?"

"Piss off."

"Ah, I see you don't want company. Should I send your visitor away?" My ears twitch. It's rare I receive visitors. It's even rarer my 'perfect' brother bothers to tell me about them.

"A visitor? Haiz. I have enough sense not to turn visitors away." I shift, hopping down from the window ledge.

My heart is beating faster than I would like. It seems like my chest is going to burst at this rate. It will be disappointing if it's not them, so I shouldn't keep my hopes up.

"Leona?" A familiar voice chimes as I enter the room. They smile warmly at me and walk over, looking at me somewhat reluctantly.

"I'm surprised you actually came here." I hold out my hand. They take it carefully and I pull them into a hug, "Welcome home." I add with a whisper.

They tear up, hugging me tightly.

"Yeah, I'm home." They mutter. They feel warm in my arms. They feel like the keystone of an arch, holding me together despite being so small.

'So, I still love you.' I think to myself, closing my eyes and forcing myself not to do too much. I want to give them soft kisses, I want to whisk them to my room and cuddle with them. I want to tell them how much I love them. But the words don't leave my throat. I can't love them, not as a royal.

"Well, isn't this a nice reunion." That ruined it.

"And you're still here because? This is my guest. I thought you'd leave." I hiss, glaring at my brother.

"There's no need to be hostile. I'm just surprised you have someone close to you."

"Oh? Thanks, I didn't realize I needed to tell you these things."

"I'm not chastising you, I'm glad. Really. Ah, I should probably introduce myself to your lover."

"Lover?"

"Are you two not? Ah, I'm sorry for misunderstanding." He doesn't sound even slightly apologetic.

"I-It's fine."

"... This is my brother. That's it, don't worry about getting close to him."

"Oh- okay." They smile sadly.

"Well this does complicate things a little. I had just convinced the elders to let you have your lover join you here. But if they're not your lover, then I'll have to clear that up."

"That won't be necessary. It'll be more convenient if everyone assumes we're lovers anyways." 'Though I'm not particularly fond of receiving help from you, I won't turn it away when it benefits me.'

"S-So then- Do I- have to pretend to be your lover?" They seem surprised, their face flushed a bit. It's cute. It makes me want to lick their cheeks and nibble on their ear.

"No, just act like before. Us spending so much time together will get the point across."

"Oh! Okay." They nod, seeming perhaps a little disappointed.

"Last time we spoke, I promised to have a napping spot pick out for us. I think I found one. Though, you'll have to sit on my lap if you want to lean on me." The window ledge wasn't wide enough to sit side by side unless you laid against the window.

'This spot is chosen partially out of my selfishness. If nothing else, then I can hold you tightly. Not that you need to know my reasoning.'

"That's okay. If you're okay with it, I mean. I've always kind of wanted to hug you when napping." They admit wanting to cuddle closer.

'I wonder.'

I pick them up, cupping their rear as they cling to me. They seem a bit surprised.

"W-We could just walk there-"

"We are walking there. What? Did you never wonder how I carried you before?"

"I never thought about it- This is embarrassing. I could just walk with you."

"Hm, no. You clung to me this long, cling to me more, won't you?"

"Leona." They whine.

I can't help but chuckle a little. This was warm. It felt nicer than just remembering them.

"Hey, do you love me?"

"What? I mean- yes. You're the closest person I have."

"I mean, romantically, sexually. How, do you love me?"

"T-This is very sudden- and I don't know how to answer- aah."

"That's fine. We've got plenty of time." I sit down, letting them situate themselves on my lap as we sit by the window. I wrap my arms around their waist, and rest on my chin on their shoulder.

"You're more affectionate than I remember."

"Well, I have to make up for the missed nap time cuddles somehow, right?"

"What? Hah, hahaha. Sure, let's go with that. Leona. I missed you."

"Yeah ... me too."

"I never thought you'd admit it ... so ... the question."

"Do you love me?"

"Yeah, that one ... was it, because you love me?"

"Yeah."

"W-wait really? Um! How so?"

"Hm, I'll tell you after you tell me. I did ask first."

"Hahaha, okay, that's fair." They lean into me, resting against my chest, relaxing in my arms. We sit there for a while, just enjoying each other's company. It doesn't really matter how they answer. We'll stay beside each other anyways. I can tell that much. They wouldn't have found me if they didn't intend to stay.

"Hey ... Leona ..."

"Yeah?"

They turn their head and move so their mouth is close to my ear before whispering their answer. Perhaps embarrassed, or worried that telling me loudly would hurt me. Regardless, the action was cute.

"I'm not sure. I've never felt anything like this before. I've never had the chance. So, I may not get it right the first time. I don't know what type of love this is."

"Okay, then let's figure it out together." I've waited this long, waiting a little longer should be fine. Besides, I'm with them now, so that is enough.

#twisted wonderland #character pov #leona kingscholar #twst leona #leona twst #fluff #warm and cozy #self indulgent #gn reader #reader insert #I let him have like two swears. It's fine.#Have soft Leona #he deserves some softness.#he's just a silly guy #a bean #Anyways #i hope you enjoy #Sorry for not posting

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mangoguy · 2 months

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CBF! König x GN! Reader (Prologue)

Warnings: reader has a dad (they are adopted), no pronouns but 'you', König has a name.

You have moved into a new neighborhood, although you're not thrilled your dad mentions it could be fun.

I'm reposting this again because I changed his name, plus I wasn't entirely sure where I was going with this... but with some brain power, I got to thinking this was based on a game called Our Life, which is super great and a very sweet story, but personally I don't think König would be a very good friend once he gets to his teen years. This story, while it will have sweet moments, is going to sprinkle in some toxic/unhealthy friendship.

Comments/Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Age: 12

Memory One

“New area, new kid”

“But Dad, I don't want to move! Aren't we perfectly fine staying here?” You exclaimed, stomping your foot and crossing your arms. Your 12-year-old brain thought it was the best argument. Your dad just looked at your pouty face and sighed.

“Not my choice bud, they're relocating me. Besides- moving isn't that bad, think of all the new friends you'll make!” He remained positive, for your sake. He wasn't particularly happy about this move either but this was an opportunity he couldn't pass up.

So that's how you found yourself on the first day of summer break, miles away from where you grew up. Your dad was driving in unknown territory. You looked at the card your classmates gave you on the last day… along with a small book your teacher gave to you as a housewarming gift. You frowned and sunk lower into your seat, watching the rooftops of houses pass by. You could see your dad peek at you through the rearview mirror.

“Are you doing okay back there?” He asked.

“...No… I want to go back,” you lamented.

“I know… here, why don't we play your favourite song?” he beamed at you, fiddling with the radio before you heard your favourite song come out of the speakers. You had to admit it was making you feel better. You grumpily swayed your head to the music and your dad chuckled.

“Well, we're here,” you heard your dad announce. He got out of the car before looking up at the new house, putting his hands on his hips in the weird pose he did when he was admiring something. You huffed and got out yourself, quickly scanning over your new house. It honestly looked like something from a fairytale, vines decorated the front. There was also a small balcony with a window above it… that seemed to be the entrance to it.

Alright, maybe you were a bit impressed. You held your book and card close as you followed your dad towards the front door. He fished out his keys, unlocked the door and pulled it open for the two of you to see inside.

To say it was dusty was an understatement. You walked in first and observed your new surroundings. There was some furniture that was covered in plastic and the stairs looked creaky. Your dad sighed behind you.

“Well, let's get work, kiddo.”

It was a long week of unpacking, cleaning, and finding the nearest store for supplies. The majority of the unpacking was easy- since your dad just ended up doing all of it. You got to decorate your new room which was fun (you ended up claiming the room with the small balcony). Currently, you were outside, your dad urged you to explore the neighbourhood just as long as you didn’t go to the next street. You looked over to your left when you passed your front gate to see your street was right by a forest… all your street was surrounded by woods, besides the part that led to the other block. You decided to head in, walking the little gravel path that was made. It was cloudy today so most people were inside. It was fine with you, you haven’t been able to meet the neighbours. You remember your dad mentioning they seemed nice from the small interaction he’s had with them.

You stopped in your tracks when you spotted something colourful off the trail you were on. Growing a bit curious you went to investigate, it wasn’t hard to see that it was a playground. You were caught off guard by a boy playing by himself. He was around your height, maybe a bit taller, chubby, and had brown hair. He was moving around the play structure rapidly, waving a large stick around like it was a sword. He shouted around giving commands to his ‘soldiers’ and claiming they needed to save the princess from the clutches of the evil wizard. Who the evil wizard was… you didn’t know, but it looked like fun. You stepped closer to the playground and that’s when he finally noticed you. He tensed, turning to face you, he looked like a deer in the headlights.

“Hello, sorry- I didn’t mean to scare you,” You spoke, trying to make yourself seem less threatening. It didn’t seem to work though, he looked like he was going to bolt at any moment. You could see him biting the inside of his cheek, it was awkward but you waited for him to say something.

A minute passed, then two… before he finally spoke.

“It’s… fine I was just about to… leave…” He spoke, he sounded anxious. You frowned, that was not what you were expecting. You should be the one leaving, not him, but he seemed hellbent on leaving this situation. You watched as he started making his way towards the gravel path and walking towards the neighbourhood you resided in. Did he live near you?

“Wait!” You called out to him.

He continued walking and picked up speed when you called out for him. You didn’t follow him since you didn’t want to spook him more. You watched him disappear down the path, you decided to wait a few minutes before heading home yourself.

Knock!

“This is the third visitor we’ve gotten today…” Dad mumbled as he got up from his desk. He said he was working on some papers, though he kept getting interrupted by neighbours who wanted to introduce themselves. You’ve gotten two casseroles already and it looks like you’ll be adding a third. You walked with your dad to the door, he opened it to see a whole family of five on your little porch. You immediately noticed that the husband looked like he didn’t want to be here. The wife was holding a container full of what looked like dessert. Their kids were standing behind them, and from the looks of it they had two boys and one girl..

“Hello! I hope we aren’t interrupting anything, but we thought it was finally time to introduce ourselves, I’m Lina and this is my husband Albert and behind us are our kids… get up here you three,” she motioned her kids towards the front. You instantly recognized the boy from the park whom you scared off three days ago. His eyes widened slightly spotting you and he shifted on his feet.

“This is Andreas, Marie, and Alexander,” She went down from oldest to youngest. Marie waved at you and smiled, saying a quick ‘nice to meet you.’

“It’s nice to meet you all, I'm Andrew,” Your dad shook hands with the parents before introducing you.

“My kid just recently turned 12, they’ll be going to the nearby school,” Dad said. Lina perked up at that.

“That’s wonderful! Alexander here recently turned 12 and goes to that school, maybe they could walk together?” Lina offered. Alexander seemed to deflate at that and Andreas snickered.

“But anyway, before I forget, I brought you an apple strudel! I hope you like them,” she handed off the dessert to your dad who took it with a quick ‘thank you.’

It seems like forever before Dad’s and Lina’s conversation ends and your dad finally closes the door. He looked over at you and gave you a small smile.

“Thought that conversation was never going to end…” He mumbled.

“It’s not like you were helping,” you mumbled, taking the apple strudel from him and resuming your movie.

Words: 1247

Chapter One

#call of duty #cod mw2 #modern warfare 2 #könig call of duty #könig cod #könig mw2 #cod x reader #cod x you #guy.writes #konig cod #konig x reader #konig mw2 #cbf!König

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idiotlovesongs · 9 months

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i wanna talk about being latino (mexican and colombian) in bandom, specifically being a fan of ptv.

as we all know, bandom is so very fucking white. sure you can go looking for specifically poc bands, but the majority of the popular bands are white with one or two people of color in the band and they are either white passing or get treated fucking weirdly by fans because white fans don't know how to interact with their poc idols normally (not that they interact with their white idols normally but it's a bad weird when it comes to poc).

most bands are sexualized but with ptv it felt particularly gross in the way it was tied to the fact that they were mexican. they were and are hot, don't get me wrong, but did the term sexican have to be so fucking popularized?? the fact that they were latinos was really fetishized in a way that white artists really didn't get. i remember someone talking about how the only reason they got a girlfriend in middle school was because in between getting called a beaner and a wetback, she was also called a sexican. it gave emo and alt people almost a right to fetishize latinos, specifically mexicans. and emo latinos just had to sit and take it because it was the only love we really got from such a largely white fanbase. a lot of memes around them (at least the ones that i remember, the ones that stuck with me) were kind of racist and stereotyped them. not to say ptv didn't make those kind of jokes from time to time, but it's different when it's coming from your own people rather than some person on the internet who is probably white.

i really fucking love ptv. it was so nice to finally look and see someone like me up on stage playing music for you. it was nice getting recognition from other people that we could also fucking do that. it gave us something to be. and i grew up around a lot of poc, but i always identified more with fandom spaces and bandom cause i was a weird emo child with a fucked up sense of sexuality and gender. i experienced that sense of other from my irl community and then in bandom spaces because most people were white. i wasn't totally conscious of the effects until i noticed in my writing that all my characters (and i do mean all) were white. Do you know how embarrassed I felt? How ashamed I felt? How it still feels so fucking shitty? that shit sticks with you. how is it that i was so entrenched in a white community that i forgot that i existed? that people like me existed. ptv really helped pull me out of that.

rpf is bandom was and is a big thing. if you were gay or questioning in middle school and you were emo, you read rpf. that's just how it fucking goes. i read maybe like one or two from bands that i liked, but the ones that i fucking devoured involved vic fuentes. yeah most of the writers were white and fetishized him, but it was still nice to have someone there that looked like me. idk if other poc can relate to this, but i always feel super uncomfortable walking into a room and have there be only white people. it makes you feel alienated as fuck. having vic and the rest of ptv in these digital spaces made me feel less alone subconsciously. again, this works were definitely a little racist and homophobic but i wasn't super picky back then and i had yet to unpack some internalized issues.

a little sidenote that i've noticed is that people talk about gender envy a lot when it comes to white members in bandom, but i've seem almost no one talk about it when it comes to ptv. maybe i'm just on the wrong side of tumblr, but i've very rarely seen someone say shit about ptv giving them gender envy and they are so fucking gender. literally fuck y'all. the day another white twink gives me gender envy is a cold day in hell. i went to mexico and got it so fucking often because i finally saw what my actual fucking face could be. i saw my features on guys and wanted to fucking crawl into their skins just to see how it would feel. and the gender euphoria i got at everyone saying i looked just like my dad was literally unreal. and yeah i got told i was the female version but it was so fucking close. i felt like i could fucking taste it. tangent over.

this is not to say ptv were always amazing and helpful to the community. i mean, they definitely catered to a white audience. i still remember watching their music videos and wondering why all the actors were white. they were the only poc in most of their old music videos. i particularly took note of the fact that there were poc in the music video of pass the nirvana because they quite literally had none before. i still remember the day i watched bulls in the bronx and wondering why they didn't have latinos in a music video for a song that was so tied to their latin roots. i get that latinos come in all different shades, but they are always picking the palest shade?? come on.

and i acknowledge that ptv probably didn't have control of the actors chosen for their mvs, but it still demonstrates the issues in bandom and how even in their own music videos they are kind of othered. i know if i was in a band, i would at least try to push for one actor to be visibly latino or some other poc. but like i said, they could very well just have no control over this and it's someone else pulling the strings for their music videos. it just felt kind of shitty to look at their music videos and see that even their they were the only latinos in the space.

sidenote, being latino and emo is fucking hard. being emo is seen as a white thing and, if your peers don't make fun of you, your family and community sure fucking will. i was in mexico and had my hair dyed bright red (which is admittedly an attention grabber) and you have no idea the amount of stares i got in my dad's pueblo. kids, parents, grandparents, everyone looks at you and stares. i'm sure this isn't specific to latinos, but i'm talking about my personal experience. my uncle, who had admittedly been kind of creepy and weird, kind of stopped interacting with me as much when i got my hair colored, when it became very visibly obvious that i was kind of alt/emo, and i definitely felt like my family was gonna talk shit as soon as i left. but that's also just how latino families are. there's always chisme. i can't imagine what it must feel like to actually live in mexico while being emo (especially in the 00s-10s) but, from what i've heard, it's not fucking fun. you're just really othered in a way that i didn't totally feel in the states because i had my friends who were also emo. i mean the mexican emo wars is such fucking proof of the difference in the way white people interacted with alt cultures and the way mexicans did.

anyways this was just me putting words to a feeling i've always had about ptv. it is by no means articulate or well crafted, but i just wanted to get this out. i really do love pierce the veil and most of their work. i always smile when i see the way their heritage influences their music and they really effected the way i see myself and my culture. i love that they got a mexican folklorico dancer to dance with them on stage for bulls in the bronx. it seriously warmed my heart to see them embrace us that way and honestly makes me wanna fucking cry. don't come at me because this shit is half assed. i know it is. it is just me talking about my experience and feelings and what i've heard from other latinos. if you're latino too, add onto this post or message me if you want to talk about this stuff or just ptv in general. white people, don't engage in this convo. it is not about you and i don't care about your opinion on the latino experience in bandom. other poc are welcome to talk about their experiences too. was there a band like this that y'all had and how did that impact you guys' perspective of yourself and your culture?

#pierce the veil #ptv #vic fuentes #tony perry #jaime preciado #latino #mexico #bandom #i really hope i get some emo latino mutuals from this

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avatar-anna · 2 years

Note

Hi ☺️ you can write something where yn is also Harry's guitarist, and they have feelings for each other but are afraid to admit it. And the reader always thought she wasn't his type either.

i...had no idea where this was gonna go. it's not really what you asked for, but i'm sure these two will get there eventually. enjoy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry was a nice enough guy, but he was driving you insane.

You were hired as a guitarist for Harry Styles' Love On Tour, and while you were picked out of a long list of guitarists for your talent and extensive resume, your boss seemed to think you couldn't fill the shoes left behind by the guy you replaced. Apparently he recently had a baby and he and his wife, the drummer, were both taking some time off to take care of the little guy.

You knew you were talented, you wouldn't have gotten this job if you weren't, but Mitch, the usual lead guitarist for Harry's band, must've been a god or something on the guitar because during rehearsals, Mitch was all Harry could talk about. "Mitch usually does this," he would say, or "Mitch doesn't play like that," or "Well, Mitch actually..."

Harry brought up Mitch while you tried to play—key word tried because Harry barely let you play any chords before he had a correction—that you began to dislike the man in question, and you'd never even met him! You'd never been so tense or annoyed while playing before, but Harry just couldn't seem to leave you alone, so much so that the other members of his band had taken notice.

"Don't take it too personally," Pauli said after a particularly excruciating rehearsal. "Mitch is Harry's best friend. I think he just feels weird having to perform without him and he's taking it out on you."

That was fine, you could understand missing someone who made you comfortable onstage, but Harry was making you uncomfortable, which caused you to underperform, which caused him to nitpick even more.

"I don't understand why he hired me if he doesn't like the way I play," you said into your phone. You were on your daily rant phone call to your mom before you left for rehearsals, something that was necessary so you wouldn't bite anyone's head off and get fired.

"It's nice that he cares so much, though," your mother said, always looking for the bright side. She'd been your number one supporter from the moment you'd set your sights on becoming a professional guitarist. And she was undeniably a Harry Styles fan.

"Maybe, but maybe he cares a little too much," you replied, running a hand through your hair. "I mean, no offense to this Mitch guy, but I could probably play circles around him."

"Very humble of you, Y/n," your mother deadpanned.

"But I'm not wrong."

You were classically trained on the Spanish guitar as well as a standard acoustic or electric guitar, having started out at a young age. Playing was your lifeblood, the thing that made you feel the most in tune with yourself. Mitch was more than likely a great guy, and probably a fantastic guitarist. You didn't mean to sound cocky, but you were so frustrated by Harry's inherent lack of belief in your talent that you almost had to say you were better out loud before you started to doubt yourself, something you'd never done before.

"Maybe. But show them that. Make him stop questioning you."

"That's probably unlikely," you muttered, but you kept her advice in your back pocket. Looking at your watch, you cursed. "Shit. I gotta go, Mom. I'll talk to you later."

"Kick some ass, sweetie!" she said, and with that, she was gone.

You sped over to the rehearsal space, not needing Harry to tell you that Mitch would never be late for rehearsal. Thankfully, you weren't the last person to show up, so you were in the clear. For now.

You walked over to Pauli and Paige, a new hire like you. Apparently dating co-workers was allowed in Harry Styles' world, not that you'd be doing that. Everyone was nice—including Harry when he wasn't breathing down your neck—but you weren't interested in a relationship while touring. If something were to go wrong, it would only make things awkward. But you took comfort in the fact that if you did, Harry couldn't say anything about it, because Mitch had done it, and anything Mitch said or did was gospel.

"Ready for another day of fun?" Paige asked sarcastically. She'd also been a recipient of Harry's nitpicking, but it wasn't as bad.

"Aw, come on you guys, H is just a perfectionist," Pauli reasoned.

You were careful to look around before saying anything that would possibly get you in trouble with the subject of your conversation. And even when you saw that the coast was clear, you kept your voice down. "So am I, but you don't see me telling anyone how to do their job."

Rehearsals started soon after, and things went surprisingly smooth. Harry only had a couple of corrections, all of which you took with a grain of salt, but he was pretty mellow today.

Until you got to 'She.'

"I don't know guys, it doesn't feel right to do it without Mitch," Harry said, playing with the guitar strap around his neck.

"Oh, but it's such a vibe, H!" Ny'Oh said. "The fans love that one."

You'd heard the song before. You'd listened to all of Harry's music before applying for this job. It was a good song, a great one even, with an awesome guitar solo, performed by the man, the myth, the legend Mitch Rowland himself. It was probably why Harry didn't want to perform it. Or better yet, he didn't want you to perform it.

"But Mitch always does the solo," he replied, still unsure.

You held back an eyeroll. Of course Mitch always performed it, he was the lead guitarist and recorded the guitar solo on the original track. But that didn't mean he was the only one who could do it.

"I can do it," you said. You normally kept quiet during rehearsal, but you wanted to prove yourself to Harry. You were sick of him underestimating you.

Not once had he complimented your work during rehearsals. You made corrections, you did things the way Harry preferred, and you played well, but anytime you did any of that, he couldn't just say, "Good job," or "Nice work." He just made suggestion after suggestion, and you wanted him to realize that while you weren't the almighty Mitch, you were just as good, if not better in your (humble) opinion.

"I'm sure you can, Y/n, it's just a really complicated solo, and I don't want to overwhelm you on your first tour with us. Mitch put a lot of passion into—"

"Can we just try?" you interrupted, trying not to sound as frustrated as you felt. If he didn't let you do this, you were seriously considering quitting. There was only so much of his condescension you could take.

Harry looked unsure, but he eventually agreed. And even then, it felt like he was just amusing you, like he'd already made up his mind.

You decided then and there that this would be the performance of your life. Not in front of tens of thousands of people, not in front of screaming fans and spectators, not even at an actual show. No, the defining moment of your career was about to be during a tour rehearsal for a man who didn't think you could live up to his expectations. What a surprise.

The song started, and you followed along. As you slowly approached the big solo, Pauli gave you a thumbs up, mouthing "You got this!" from his place behind his keyboard. And when your time to shine finally arrived, you were flawless.

You were better than flawless. Your fingers moved along the fretboard with ease and worked the strings masterfully. With each chord you played, you drifted further and further away from the rehearsal space. And you had to give credit where credit was due too. The guitar solo Mitch created helped to transport you to that other plane of existence. It was idyllic and gritty required a certain amount of focus, but you were more than up to the task. Playing this solo and forgetting about everything that had been bothering you reminded you why you took this job in the first place. To play music. To play good music. The rest almost seemed worth it if it meant you could play this solo every night.

By the time the song slowly trickled to an end, you were nearly out of breath from how intensely you played for the last few minutes. Your fingers ached despite your calluses and your cheeks were undoubtedly flushed, but you felt good. Satisfied with your performance of the song.

The rehearsal space was dead silent, and you couldn't tell whether it was good silence or bad silence. You'd changed up the solo just the tiniest bit, like an artist leaving a signature on a painting. If you were going to be doing this solo on tour, you had to do it your way. You weren't Mitch, no matter how much Harry wanted you to be. But it honestly wasn't a lot, hardly even noticeable, but you were sure Harry noticed.

Speaking of, you looked over at him to gauge his reaction, and dare you say he looked...impressed? His eyes were wide, like he was seeing you for the first time, his hands frozen on his guitar, fingers positioned on the last chord of 'She.'

"So...it was okay?" you asked, letting yourself smile a little. You knew it was better than okay, but it didn't matter what you thought, the only opinion that mattered was Harry's, and he'd yet to say anything. No one had.

He finally seemed to return to himself and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, um, Mitch normally walks around the stage a little more, but—"

"Oh my God," you muttered in disbelief. You slipped your guitar from around your shoulders and moved to put it in its case.

This was never going to end. No matter what you did, no matter how you played, you would never be good enough in his eyes, and you didn't need to go out of your way to prove yourself to someone who wasn't willing to change your mind. You knew you were good, and you knew you could find work elsewhere.

"I'm out. I'm sorry it's last minute, but I—I can't. I can't work like this," you said, making eye contact with everyone but Harry. Paige looked sad to see you go, but there was sympathy there too.

When Harry didn't try to stop you, you picked up your guitar case and walked towards the rehearsal space's exit. Harry's manager was there, and he tried to stop you, but you weren't willing to listen to anyone at the moment.

"You don't have to pay me or anything. It's fine. I just can't work with him. I'm sorry." And then you were walking out to your car.

-------------------------------------------------------

You were right, you did find work quickly.

It was to help record for an album and not touring across the United States, but hey, work was work, and the artist you were helping appreciated and recognized your talent. They even asked you for advice on how to improve.

You were at home after another day of recording, watching a nature documentary while you crocheted a sweater for your mom. If you timed it right, it would be done by Christmas. You were finishing a carrot nose on a snowman when there was a knock on your door. You didn't answer at first, figuring it was just a package delivery, but when there was another knock, you went to go see who it was.

"What do you want?" you asked, not even trying to hide the annoyance in your voice.

Harry had the decency to look sheepish. He scratched the back of his neck, his shirt lifting to reveal a sliver of skin. "I've come to apologize."

"Apology not accepted. Now if you'll excuse me I would rather be doing literally anything else than having this conversation," you said, trying to close the door, but Harry put a hand out to stop it from shutting in his face.

"Okay, I know I was...difficult, but can we please be civil?" he said, not appreciating your dry tone.

"Difficult?" you scoffed. "Passing kidney stones is difficult. Math is difficult. You...You're impossible!"

You never said anything to Harry because you didn't want to cause a scene in front of the rest of the band and you technically worked for him, but there was no one around, and you didn't work for him anymore.

"I realize that I set impossible standards and shouldn't have been comparing you to Mitch," he said, cheeks flushed from being labeled "impossible." "I shouldn't have done that, so I'm sorry. And...you really are an amazing guitarist. I'm sorry if it felt that I was harping too much. I've been having a hard time accepting that Mitch won't be on tour with me this time around, but it wasn't right to put that on you."

Well that was an understatement, but at least he realized he'd been asking you to do the impossible, which was basically to become someone else. Still, you wanted to get under his skin the way he'd gotten under yours these past few weeks.

"How long did it take you to prepare that?" you asked. You were the one being difficult now, and you had to admit, it felt very satisfying.

Harry frowned. "I didn't prepare anything."

You grinned, noticing the way he wouldn't meet your eyes. Crossing your arms, you said, "So you tracked me down all the way to my house by yourself to apologize? This has nothing to do with the fact that you're going on tour in less than two weeks and have yet to find a replacement?"

Paige had been texting you updates on rehearsals since you quit. Apparently Harry had been worse with all the new people his manager brought in to play with them.

Crossing his arms like you'd done, Harry looked at you, his height causing him to look down just a little. "You're not as charming as you think you are."

"Oh, I'm not trying to be charming. You couldn't handle my charm," you said before you could stop yourself. Where the hell did that come from?

A smile flickered at the corner of Harry's mouth. "I could handle you just fine."

You craned your neck to look at him. When did he get so close? And when did your breathing become shallow? Was this going where you thought it was?

Harry stepped over the threshold of your door, and you let him, mouth dry as the door fell shut. He rested his hand on the side of your face and held you there. Too busy loathing him, you didn't realize how piercing his stare could be, or how sharp his jaw was, or how pink his lips were. You were suddenly very hot.

Finding a semblance of composure, you swallowed and said, "I'm not so sure. I can be a very harsh critic too, you know."

Your eyes flicked down below his belted jeans pointedly. When your gaze returned to his face, Harry's expression grew hard, but you were pretty sure that wasn't the only thing that was hard.

"You're a real brat, you know that?"

You shrugged. "You gonna do something about it?"

You could not believe where this was heading. When you answered the door, you wanted to slam it in Harry's face, part of you still did. But you were under some kind of spell. It had to be his cologne, or his eyes, something. Something was making you act this way, despite the fact that you found him extremely irritating.

"I have a couple things in mind, but—What are you doing?"

You weren't really sure, but you were going with it. You'd sunk down to your knees and had begun to work his belt undone. Quickly, you met his eyes to make sure this was all okay, and when he nodded, you continued to undress him while he continued to speak.

"I—I've been told I have to—shit," he hissed. "I have to get you to come back and go on tour with us."

You'd finally gotten his jeans off completely, and the cool air surprised him. Sitting back on your heels, you looked back up at him innocently. "Okay."

Harry had been distracted by your hands, which had begun to explore. But when you caved easily, he peeked an eye open. "Okay? That's it?"

Shrugging, you said, "Sure, I just have to hear you say it."

"Say what?" he asked, but you had a feeling that he would do just about anything you said right about now.

"I'll come back and go on tour with you if you say, out loud, that I'm better than him."

He'd gone back to closing his eyes, enjoying the feeling of your hands, but you stopped to get his focus back. "Better than who?"

"Better than Mitch. If you tell me right now that I'm a better guitarist than him, I'll come back."

Harry glared at you, but you just shrugged again. "Up to you," you said simply.

He took his time, debating whether what he was feeling was worth saying what you wanted him to say. He'd unwittingly walked into a trap, though you only planned it when he stepped inside your home. He didn't even have to mean it, you just wanted to hear him say it.

Pulling your phone out, you began to scroll, letting him know you weren't particularly bothered by his current predicament, and that wasn't just referring to the tour.

Finally, horniness won out, and he muttered, "Fine."

He agreed, but he hadn't actually said anything. "I'm waiting."

"Fucking brat," he muttered under his breath. "You're a better guitarist than Mitch. There. Happy?"

"Very," you said. "Especially since I can listen to you say it over and over again."

You were scrolling on your phone, but only to find your voice recorder app. The second he said he would do it, you hit record. And just to rub salt in the wound, you hit the "play" button.

"You're a better guitarist than Mitch. There. Happy?"

Smiling, you shut your phone off and slid it in your back pocket. "I think I'm gonna make that my ringtone."

Done with your games, Harry reached down to hold your hair in his hand. "Are we doing this or not?"

You shrugged. "Sure. Why not."

Just like you predicted, he glared at you even more, but that didn't stop him from urging you on, guiding your head with the hand holding your hair. You were sure he hated that you couldn't be assed whether you hooked up with him or not. He seemed like the type that needed to be praised in bed, but you weren't about to give him any kind of satisfaction. Well, not any verbal satisfaction.

"I think we're going to have a lot of fun on this tour, you and I," he said through gritted teeth when you eventually gave in.

You hummed noncommitally, trying to appear like you didn't really care. But you did. Harry was an ass and had expressed some diva-like behavior, but it would be fun to push his buttons and see how far his limits actually went.

Maybe touring with him wouldn't be so bad after all.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot

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satans-left-asscheeky · 1 year

Text

Pining Fo4 Companions react to getting stuck under the mistletoe with sole

Maccready

"Oh wow! I actually had my first kiss under some mistletoe back in the little lamplight days..."

He'd lean in extremely close so sole would understood what he was getting at, but he didn't have the nerve to initiate the kiss... at least not when sole meant so much to him, thankfully sole did it for him placing their hands on either side of his blushing face as the kissed him deeply. Mac giggled into the kiss and placed his hands on the small of their back pulling them closer to him. This was turning out to be a good Christmas indeed.

Hancock

"Would'ya look what we have here? It'd be a shame to let this moment go to waste..."

He'd wrap his arms around soles waist and gently touch his lips to theirs. The second he felt them kiss back he deepened the kiss moving one hand to cradle their head. If the ghoul had his way they'd make out the rest of the day no matter where they were

Cait

"If you wanted to smooch me all you had to do was ask"

She'd pull them close to her and kiss them deeply. Caits not exactly the kind to do anything half and the same goes for kissing...

Danse

"I wonder where on earth the scribes found this plant. Could've sworn it was extinct"

The whole thing went over his head. It wouldn't be until about a week later that he'd realized and he'd beat himself up over ruining the perfect moment, but also wouldn't try and recreate it because of his insecurities :/

Curie

"Oooh this is a tradition is it not?"

The kiss would be more like a peck, but to be fair it was also the synths first kiss. Her face would be burning and no matter how hard she tried to return to whatever task she had been doing before her mind would keep wandering off to the special moment her and sole had shared

Deacon

"Well would you look at that, some conveniently placed mistletoe, almost like someone placed that there just so we would kiss..."

He put it there. Might seem a bit ballsy for Deacon, but he was sick an tired of this silly crush and wondering if they liked him back. Now that's not to say he wasn't internally screaming and blushing profusely, but despite himself he'd lean forward. He kept just close enough for sole to get the hint, but far back enough they could pull away if they were uncomfortable, but oh boy did they got the hint and they threw themselves on him with such intensity he had to take a step back to keep from falling as they crashed their lips into his with vigor. in the end it was all worth it when he had his lips on soles. Mission accomplished 😎

Piper

"Oh wow mistletoe... Ya know I've always found it kinda weird how people kiss under a poisonous plant. Not that I wouldn't kiss you! I mean not to imply we have to kiss or anything! Unless of course you-"

She was interrupted by sole kissing her. The kiss felt natural, like they'd been doing it for years, inspite of this being the first time. Piper felt like she could easily get lost in the others lips. As nice as it all felt Piper still wasn't entirely convinced it wasn't just to shut her up, but either way it's the nicest way anyone has ever asked her to shut up so she'd except the gesture gladly

Nick

"Think the universe is trying to tell us something doll"

Him and Sole had been walking home to the agency on a particularly cold night, so he had stopped to put his coat on his shivering companion when he noticed the mistletoe. The kiss was extremely chaste and brief, but it still made him feel oddly warm on the cold evening

Preston

"Wow that mistletoe looks so pretty. I'll have to thank whoever put it up..."

Much like Danse if goes completely over his head, only when he realizes he takes sole back there and nervously pecks their lips with his, of course he ends up bonking their forehead with his and then ends up apologizing profusely before sole laughs and gives him a proper kiss. He relaxes a bit after the kiss and him and Sole going back to do whatever they were before walking hand in hand. Task failed successfully 😎

X6-88

"I've heard the plant can be poisonous... perhaps we should test it against our enemies"

Hes not aware of the tradition, but he totally killed the mood for sole. If someone was to tell him of the tradition he'd think it was foolish, if he wanted to kiss someone he would kiss them, and besides he doesn't take orders from a damn plant

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bonefall · 6 months

Note

decided to try my hand at some oc clanmew translations because i think it's fun :3c i have more but here are the ones that are either my favorites character-wise or took some thought!

STAR HIVESWARM - shai ffawsbabfsfsafen

star bee-home swarmed. there's no word for a hive in term of bugs, so i just shoved ffaws with the first part of babipanna to make hive. She's called hiveswarm because her gray ticked fur looks like a swarm of bugs and she was overwhelmed with many things as a warrior and deputy, swarmed with them

ISOPODSPOTS- booiwoowoo

rollypolly-spotting. Isopodspots is white with black spotting like a dairy cow isopod! He's in star hive's clan, which has an abundance of bug names

booiwoowoo is really fun to say.

BLUEFLOWER - luparponma

blue flower... hers is very simple but i like her. she was named for her blue eyes, bluish grey parts of her dilute calico patterning, and for her knowledge of medical flowers as a medicine cat. If her clan knew what lotuses were she'd be bluelotus (blue water-flower?) instead. a very straightforward name, but as a character she's far from straightforward!

STAR BREEZESONG - shai hraa'ahwuosoon.

star breeze wind-whistling. i would have used the singing verb, but I thought the hypothetical literal "song" the wind sings would be fitting for her name instead. she wasn't named breezesong for any super specific reason in particular but i imagine she may have been born on a particularly windy day, or maybe her fur flows in a specific way akin to a breeze

HOUNDSNIPE - bayaokikaboohafefyl

large hound-wader-bird. her name is a joke about guns since the character she's based on uses guns as her main weapon, but uses the name of a wading bird! as for why the hound prefix... she looks somewhat doglike, being large with black and white markings and having huge paws, teeth and distinctively pointed ears. she's breezesong's sister. breezesong looks like a normal cat

JUNGLEHOPE - papayaogshaba

steady rain-forest-prayer. jungles and rainforests would probably be synonymous to warrior cats since they don't know a lot about em, and i'd imagine a prayer to starclan is similar to hoping!

SPLINTERFLOOD - boekarkworrl

a lot-broken piece-flood. the clanmew word for splinter, as in the piece of wood or thorn that gets stuck in your paw pad, isn't what i imagined for splinterflood's name. splinter as in the verb, splinter as in breaking into many small pieces. he's flooded by the splinters in his namesake, parts of himself. his old name was floodheart, but he changed it to splinterflood, then eventually splinterheart again. (worrlbabun, boekarkbabun) he's indecisive and also very dramatic, almost like cat the shakespeare

MOTHFLARE - ffyyfyn

moth-flame, her name is an honor title! she survived major burns as an apprentice from a forest fire that occurred during a battle with a warring clan, and when she recovered she was granted her honor title. she's also a sorta charcoal black color, with long fur that wisps like a flame

ffyyfyn is a very nice coincidence of a name. it's very pleasant sounding

very nervous to send this but who cares i'm having fun it's clanmew time. i love better bones it's super cool

No need to be nervous! These names are all great! Booiwoowoo my beloved!

I'm going to give you words for homes that insects construct. I AM GOING TO BE POSTING IMAGES BELOW THE CUT. So here's a Trypophobia warning!

There's BEES down there, and SPIDERS, and HOLES. And weird plant tumor things called galls. Basically, bugs are adorable but they are also horrorshows who bend nature to their little leggy whims.

A home that an insect constructs is a Kin. Kin is also a word with many meanings in Clanmew. It can mean...

An insect's home

A clay pot with only a small opening

A strange object

A belonging of someone, especially an object that has special value to that person; a prized possession

A hole with a biting animal in it

Something that someone will fight you for; something you may have to fight to keep

There's a LOT of words for specific Kin.

Large, flat web = Yyb

Cobweb = Feep

Gall/Bauble = Kichaw

Honeycomb = Mlogur

Hive = Skib

Anthill = Shein

Yellow Meadow Anthill = Eebo

Large, flat webs = Yyb

The sorts of webs made by orbweavers, hanging straight downwards. Big, strong, and sticky. Word can also mean that something is vertical-- perpendicular to the ground.

Cobweb = Feep

NOT made of dust. Cobwebs are formed first by cob spiders, and then dust can settle on them in a house after they've been abandoned, damaging them beyond use.

In Clanmew, a cobweb is a fuzzy, 3D web with an odd structure. It can describe any spiderweb that doesn't have the "classic" flat shape, like the webs you may see in your cellar or the corner of your house.

Gall/Bauble = Kissaw

These are ALL galls that Clan cats can find on oak trees alone. They're specialized growths that certain types of wasps and flies can force the tree to grow into, to protect and feed a larvae before it pupates.

The word can mean gall, or it can refer to any interesting little natural object or adornment. Clan cats also can't always tell these apart from blights, chawb, so the word tends to be applied to useful galls (ink can be made from one type) or ones that are particularly interesting.

Honeycomb = Mlogur

SPECIFICALLY the hives of honeybees. Cartoons lie to you; honeybees do not create the grayish, papery hives that wasps and hornets do. A mlogur is yellow, droopy, and sometimes drips with honey.

And they're VERY important. Honey is one of the best natural antiseptics in the entire world, INVALUABLE for treating wounds. The wax can also be repurposed into all sorts of useful things, and even the larvae can be eaten.

Hive = Skib

EXACTLY what you usually imagine when you hear 'hive.' A nest of stinging bees, wasps, and hornets; but NOT honeybees.

Dangerous and useless. Clan cats avoid these at all costs; nothing good comes from messing with them.

Anthill = Shein

The hilly, bare structures that 3/4 of the ant species they encounter create.

Yellow Meadow Anthill = Eebo

A term mostly used by WindClan! At first glance, one may think these are strange little natural landmarks, but in reality, they're actually colonies of yellow meadow ants. After they build their homes, grass comes up to cover the structure.

Sometimes WindClan apprentices like to play hopping games with these, seeing how many they can successfully bounce over without stopping.

#Clanmew #Insects #Hives #anthills #tw trypophobia #Spiders

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froggiebi-moved · 7 months

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i swear nothing has been so validating and helpful to hear than other intersex people with pcos explaining that they had an alternate puberty than what we were taught to expect - because i did, too.

the first sign i had that i was entering puberty was the development of acne at age 8. even as a kid i knew how weird that was, as everyone around me still had nice, smooth skin, while i was the kid in the photographs covered in red bumps. it was humiliating.

as i travelled further into puberty, my boobs and body hair developed as expected, though the boobs got way too big too fast, and the body hair was patchy (but at least easier to maintain). my hips developed, too, but i always felt more top heavy due to the growth of my boobs, as well as the fact that my body type already had a longer torso and big tummy, the latter being a very common pcos thing. i had also been tall until i suddenly stopped growing at 14, giving me a squarely average height and dooming my legs to be forever short. i'm not kidding; at 11, i was about an inch shorter than i am now. i grew a measly 3cm in as many years, and that was it for me. i am now 164cm (5'4") despite my parents and all my siblings being taller.

as a teen, i tried to focus on how i was just like the girls now, how we shared this commonality (even if i had extreme dysmorphia from my body developing somewhat differently), but i couldnt help but be preoccupied with the state of my skin. i noticed the boys were not only more likely to have acne or to develop it early, they were more likely to have severe acne than the girls. my acne began to spread over my chest, shoulders, and back, and some zits were particularly painful and/or itchy. i didn't have cystic acne, but it was mild to moderate on almost every inch of skin down to my armpits. i thought of myself as a monster, fated to be the ugly, overlooked friend, the weirdo who couldn't get a boyfriend as they kept having crushes who didn't like them back - fairly typical teenage concerns to be sure, and one that i couldn't even express as different to my peers' as we were all hormonally haywire. even my irregular periods and heavy cramping seemed normal, because it was hard to find a teenage girl without a single experience of irregular periods and heavy cramping.

all the girls talked about using proactiv, clearasil and neutrogena to battle their pimples, and i tried what my mother was willing to buy for me, even dicey balms she found on ebay, but nothing helped; not until i went on the combination pill at 16. until then, i understood the boys who straight up pretended they didn't have it because either nothing worked, or there was nothing socially acceptable they could do about it - what millennial teenage boy would ever wash their face with specialised soap? don't worry boys, because i tried it, and it didn't do shit; the pill, however, was like a miracle cure. it didn't clear my acne up 100%, but it got better by at least half, and the redness calmed down. my face now seemed just as pimply as most other 16 year old girls, and i couldn't be happier.

i wasn't diagnosed with pcos until i was 19, after a decade of suffering and hating myself and questioning what was wrong with me and begging my mother to take me to a specialist. she even told me that as a teenager she only got pimples when she was due for her period, but didn't make that same hormonal link for me because i had pimples all the time. the constant dismissals and blaming, the shit like "you just need to be more hygienic! here, put toothpaste on your skin!" - it was all infuriating, and only succeeded in bringing my self-esteem down further.

the diagnosis helped a lot with helping me let go of a lot of the self-blame and shame i developed alongside my symptoms, but as an adult i have had other associated issues. since giving birth to my son, i have been growing facial hair that steadily became more and more noticeable, and it now has to be removed every week or so - just like my body hair, it's patchy, so i can get away with leaving it for a few days, despite it growing at the same rate as a typical beard. pregnancy changed my body and made that "topsy turvy" feeling even greater, as my bust is now far larger than my hips, despite women's clothing accommodating for the opposite. (though to be fair, this is also genetic, as my mother was more top heavy than i am; it's just another factor in the struggle of accepting my body.)

on top of all that, i have been struggling to understand my gender for the last decade, coming to the realisation i am nonbinary but itching to know what "flavour", trying on a bunch of different labels (mostly multigender ones that hover around agender), knowing i had dysphoria but not really understanding how as it differed to most accounts told by afab people. due to how my hormones work, as well as my nebulous dissatisfaction with my body, i figured i had to be a transmasc, or at least equally masc to fem. however, the more i heard trans women's stories pre-transition, the more i realised i could relate to them, and that i was doing the same thing - trying to conform to what i felt i had to be, though for me it was more that i didn't feel "womanly" enough to deserve being called one, despite wanting to be involved in the collective of women. trying to pigeon hole myself as transmasc or even completely agender wasn't realistic for me, and the reason my dysphoria was so great was because i wanted to be fem and to feel that i fit in - with women.

this whole confusing journey has been aided by my making the connection between dysphoria and pcos, finding out pcos is considered an intersex condition by the intersex community, being acceped into the community, and growing to understand just how complicated gender can be for us; i'm far from the only intersex person in this boat, despite sailing in it alone for quite some time. i've been calling myself a nonbinary woman / agender woman for a while now, and it feels right, even if it seems counterintuitive to perisex people. but i'm done trying to make myself palatable for perisex people, especially perisex cis people. i am intersex, and nonbinary, and a woman, and the "nonbinary" part modifies the "woman" part, and the way in which i am nonbinary and a woman is further influenced by my intersex status and bisexuality. and all of that is okay.

we are who we are, and when you have a community behind you, it'll quickly absorb the limitations you've put on yourself all your life. i see that now.

*terfs do not fucking interact*

#pcos #intersex #pcos intersex #intersex community #nonbinary #agender #agender woman #nonbinary woman #body dysmorphia #dysphoria #intersexism #misogyny #echoes from the void

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theoldlesbianwithcats · 6 days

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nanshe fest anon here, haha let me invent a callsign .... how about Rio :)

i totally relate to what you mean when you said you are not able to distinguish between the "lesbian" and bisexual experience shared in that interview. things like this hindered my ability to understand what my sexuality even was, since i cant relate to either of them. then i read "lesbian books" and dont understand how they can have sex with men without a mental breakdown. i had a mental breakdown about my sexuality when i was pressured to marry, tried DIY conversion therapy on myself but when i faced with the option of even touching a man sexually, death seemed better because how could i live like that? theres no way. of course this made my mental health worse but not to trauma dump - i am ok now, so dont worry.

the anon who talked about strap ons was also very insightful. the focus on strap-on contributed to me developing a severe sense of dysphoria around my genitalia with this depression that i would never be able to have a "real" sex life.

this is why it is so important for lesbian experiences to be heard, i think the queer spaces are making things worse for us, particularly when we are young and vulnerable. also i am from a non-english speaking country, where homosexuality is still criminal so i could only turn to these spaces for support. i think even in countries such as the US, its the same for a lot of lesbian girls in rural towns... they turn to these spaces for help online since its so scary to be a child in a violent homophobic family. maybe they get helped because its worse than nothing. but also it can screw with ur mind a lot. my dream lesbian event would be to hear from more lesbians of color who grew up outside west europe/us/canada... i had to leave my birth country to be able to have a future. but i feel so awkward to be the only lesbian of color in the room 99% of the time. its not that the white women are cruel, dont misunderstand me, they can be lovely and supportive. but it adds an extra level of alienation, because so many times in my country people would call homosexuality as a white persons invention. of course i know that lesbians exist elsewhere but it would be nice to see that in person at these events!

-rio

Hi again, Rio! :D

Yeah it's messed up that even in the "lesbian community" we think we're freaks so we don't even dare talking about our experience! I grew up in a small town and I remember discreetly reading sex ed books for teens at the bookshop for any info or positivity about lesbians, instead I would only find a paragraph telling me it's a phase. So tumblr was my lesbian safe space back in 2010, for example the "it gets better" campaign really helped me when I was bullied in high-school (unfortunately now that charity pretends they have no idea what a lesbian is...) Now the lesbian content is awful and lesbophobic everywhere, offline and online.

And I feel you about lesbian books, I finally got around to reading one I bought years ago because it was recommended to me and it was about two "lesbians" leaving their husbands for each other... We need book lists with actual lesbian rep!

All the strap-on stuff invading lesbian spaces is so weird yeah... A few minutes ago I clicked on a blog because she was talking about wanting to finger a woman while having acrylic nails, which made me go 🤨 and while she called herself a lesbian, it was obvious she wasn't, it was all talk about c*ckwarming and deepthr*ating ("but it's only for strap and girlc*ck, if you're a man do not interact!!!!" 🤪) I don't know if you had sex already but let me tell you that you are not lacking anything and no real lesbian will think you need a sex toy to be a complete partner and have real sex, she will only want you as you are. I mean, my ex-gf and I never even considered trying a strap-on and we definitely thought the sex we were having was real and amazing haha

About meeting lesbians of color, maybe you can find events on Instagram? I wondered why I never saw many women of color at lesbian events in Paris until I learned that black women preferred creating their own events and advertising them on Insta! Maybe you can also find an organization for LGBT refugees? Hopefully you can meet lesbians there :)

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thecheshirerat · 4 months

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a Bridge Season?

Thinking about season 3, folks. And the more I ponder it, the more I am utterly befuddled by the idea that season 2 is a bridge season.

Because if someone says "Yeah, we had a sequel planned for the book- but we need a bridge season to get to that starting place for the series." You anticipate that the setup for the sequel was all in the book, but some crucial bits of that setup were cut for TV. You think, ok, so this bridge season- season 2- will mostly be highlighting things that were in the book which were cut from season 1, combined with things that might have ended up in the prologue of book 2, with some fun extra bits for the sake of a coherent narrative.

There was a lot of "fun extra bits," but for the most part? That's. Not what season 2 was.

Season two was a lot of things- I like to describe it as a love letter, to the fandom, to Terry, to all the people involved in making the show- but it's hardly any of the things I listed above. There's some touching on book-things left out of the show, I can't think of any good examples now, but a lot of it is new!

And those new things made waves, that's absolutely sure! Season 3 will start from a very different place than season 1 ended. Aziraphale's in heaven. Crowley's a mess. Gabriel and Beelzebub are a thing. Muriel's running the bookshop.

But none of those could POSSIBLY have been crucial for season 3 to work.

It would have been pretty wild for 668: The Neighbor of the Beast (the proposed title of the book sequel) to have begun with Aziraphale suddenly in the position of Supreme Archangel. Even if they had a little explanation in the early chapters, it would have been weird- in the first book, there's very little in terms of heavenly politics. It would've been equally weird to have Crowley a mess over their off-page breakup. If that was why season 2 was necessary, Book Omens would've needed a bridge too!

Additionally, from what we know of the planned book, Crowley and Aziraphale were originally planned to work together- I lost the post where this was summarized so long ago, but I vaguely remember mention of them road-tripping across America, which will have to be changed now.

So their whole fight- the consequences of the final fifteen? We can assume that was all Gaiman.

Gabriel was practically a footnote in the book, so it would be wild for his and Beelzebub's absence to be fundamental to season 3- and we know Neil got the idea to canonize ineffable bureaucracy after season 1 was put out.

Maggie and Nina were involved because Neil wanted Maggie and Nina on the set (he's said that too). (I could find sources for all of these things if I went looking, but I'm very tired right now.)

Saraqael was added.

Muriel morphed out of a character Neil said was originally Aziraphale's replacement on Earth, but who he made nice because he was sick of writing about mean angels- so, Muriel could be fulfilling a season 3 role set up for that heaven's-replacement character he mentioned- but they probably weren't at the center of the plot, if Neil and Terry had left the character mostly unplanned.

The flashbacks are either follow-ups to flashbacks introduced in season 1 (1941, for instance), unlikely to be relevant (the Resurrectionists) or very unlikely to contain key plot details (the Job minisode, which was written by John Finnemore without much input from Neil at all).

So what was introduced in Season 2 that makes a transition from book-sequel to show-sequel smoother? Dear Reader, I have no idea. I am not a particularly good theorist, just someone who is pretty sure none of these words [this season] was in the bible [original book].

I just keep coming back to the thought that if the start of season 3 was also the planned start of 668 (and we know it won't be), they would've written a trilogy. Because they would have needed a bridge there, too.

I don't doubt that season 2 was necessary to bridge the gap- and I love it, even if it wasn't necessary, I love it and if Neil wants it back he can pry it from my cold dead hands- I'm sure it was, in some way that we have no way of understanding yet. It must all be in his authorial, ineffable plan, because that's where I am with this, I GUESS. But when he says this was a bridge season to something he and Terry had planned out before season 1 ever aired, I'm clueless.

#if someone sees something I don't please. tell me #i'm out here asking questions that I don't know the answer to #just like a certain #just like-#you know #good omens #Cheshi squeaks #good omens s2 #good omens meta #good omens s3 #gos3 speculation #ineffable fandom #good omens s3 speculation #Neil gaiman

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littleeyesofpallas · 6 months

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How do you feel about Ikomikidomoe and hikone? I personally think they’re nice additions to the world but I’ve barely seen anyone else talk about them

I think I did a post on that at some point actually, but I'm not in a position to go digging thru my archive on mobile. (found it, but it's mostly just poking at kanji in names rather than really commenting on the characters themselves, so I guess I can do more of that here.)

Broadly speaking I'm not really big on the LNs, least of all Narita Ryogo's. I know he is kind of the most beloved of the ancillary creators for actually addressing many of Kubo's obnoxious loose ends, my main beef with him is that even though he ties a lot of them off he never ties them off satisfactorily, and seemingly just for the sake of saying he did it; there's generally no thematic meat to any of it, all his hooksjust kinda amount to shuffling around Kubo's left overs. And granted, maybe that's a little harsh or unfair of an assessment, but I'm also not a big fan of light novels as a gimmicky genre/format to begin with, so take all that with a grain of salt.

Anyway. Of all the things he did over course of three books in Can't Fear Your Own World, I do think Hikone was a really neat idea. I like the general idea of exploring artificial souls and synthetic life forms and the hybrid spirits and how that all relates to the nature of the soulking as a lynchpin of reality, I'm just not super about the specific plot he built around it all.

I'm not especially in love with Ikomikidomoe specifically, I feel like it either needed more or just different lore or that it could have been done without entirely. I really think Hikone being an artificial god candidate and the nature of what that means and as an excuse to explore how the other canonical attempts to replace god could/would have gone was enough to center a story around. In particular I was already not super fond of some of the late throw away lore additions about zanpakutou that exist independent of a singular individual. (ala Nanao's family sword, and Oh-etsu's harem). I feel like it raised a lot of questions that got immediately swept under the rug and added nothing of value to the lore at large. I don't implicitly hate the idea of a zanpakutou that embodies a different kind of identity apart from that of an individual wielder, but that idea feels like it requires a LOT of additional explaining that we never got. So the fact that Tsunayashiro has an ancestral sword for no particularly meaningful reason, and that Ikomikidomoe has its whole convoluted backstory always kind of annoyed me.

It's a shame too because Narita seems to ever so slightly brush up against an idea that Kubo himself danced around in world building --that the identity manifested in one's inner world as a sword spirit, and the mask a hollow forms from its heart are the same thing, and thus a Menos accumulating myriad hollows within itself to consolidate into one uniform identity is basically the same process as what Oh-etsu describes is behind creating an Asauchi. So the idea of a powerful hollow becoming a zanpakutou or something similar has precedent, but the weird convoluted choice to make Ikomikidomoe specifically a product of Ichibee and Oh-etsu's intervention, rather than a natural consequence of a Menos ascending toward Vastolorde doesn't sit well with me.

On a side note, it bugs me that Kubo just casually threw in the idea that Asauchi are made of, what, hundreds if not thousands of shinigami souls(?) and then just NEVER addressed this weird implication that Soul Society, and Oh-etsu personally, have just, like, institutionally and systematically been committing mass genocides on the regular for all of recorded history? Huge huge mess of a world building flub. Not that it "couldn't" be answered, but that it wasn't, and that the effort it would take to patch up the apparent plot holes it introduces would just be so much effort for the sake of nothing but maintaining the status quo of the story.

Since you've got me in this rant, it's almost the same with the Ouken thing. I'm already not fond of the awkward retcon(ish) thing Kubo did with making the keys the bones of the Royal Guard as if that somehow answered any questions, when the bigger issue had been the idea that, literal key or not, each of the royal guard members was implicitly baptized in the fire of an apparent Sodom & Gomorrah catastrophes with whole cities or other swathes of land, densely packed with living, spiritually aware people being scraped off the face of the earth, ala Aizen's unfulfilled (and frankly Kubo's seemingly half forgotten) plans for Karakura.

And in the face of that weirdness there was a fun unaddressed parallel in the Royal Guard's private "cities" floating up in the royal realm with the king's palace looking like the perfect inversion of the hypothetical hole in the ground we were shown during the Ouken explanation. Were those cities populated? By whom?? Or were they empty? I don't know which possibility is more interesting to explore; that the royal guard each had a whole cult of ascended spirits living with them, each under the domain of one guard, or that the guard just lived in the hollow shells of the sacrifice it took for them to ascend alone to nigh demi-god status.

Was it that the ouken itself was the condensed souls of thousands of people, just like the later reveal about both the asauchi and White, and they died or were otherwise sacrificed to make this object(or i guess imbue the object that is living bones into becoming it(?) god the bone keys thing was dumb...), or did the souls serve some other purpose? Could it have been that rather than melting down living souls to make the key, as was kind of implied, that to create or imbue a key with the power required to function as the ouken it simply needed the presence of those souls? Did access to the god realm require being actively worshipped as a god, by thousands of people, a united spiritual power of a singleminded cult, a city of followers united in ascending the key holder into the realm of god? Who the hell knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But on that level, you'd think that's the same as the idea of a family zanpakutou, right? If the zanpkautou imprints or a person to reflect their true inner self which then grows stronger and gains power in the material world thru acknowledging and reconciling with, then implicitly the idea of a zanpakutou shared by a family would imply that its spirit is not a reflection of one person's singular traits, but those shared consistently across generations and in exchange for the lack of personal identity it confers the strength of literally multiple people's worth of power, just all reflected in a single persona.(or maybe not, i dunno, maybe the inner world of a family zanpakutou has some atlab avatar state stuff going on, who knows? Probably not Kubo.) What was the Soukyoku's giant execution blade, its destructive power conspicuously described in a measure of zanpakutou, if not a massive communal zanpakutou?(complete with its own spirit manifest as a phoenix) And what is Ichigo's inner spirit of a younger Yhwach if not the communal spirit of the Quincy bloodline? Andi n the context of these sorts of escalations of scale and power, is then the soul king actually a "human soul" in the way the cycle of human/quincy and shinigami and hollow all traffic in the same base elemental "stuff"? Or was the Soul King not that type of a "person" at all, and just a giant collective zanpakutou, a singular spirit reflecting the inner truth of humanity as a whole, and his "bankai" the wheel of reincarnation itself. Anyway that's veering too far off into speculation and potential headcanon.

Getting back to Hikone, though... I like the idea of there being various different approaches to achieving the hybrid spirit form seemingly central to god status. Ichigo was naturally synthesized that way by the circumstances of his birth, Aizen used the hougyoku and "science" to forcibly and unnaturally synthetize himself, Yhwach was seemingly born not by actively joining disparate elements together but by simply being an offshoot of something that was already a hybrid... And then there's Hikone... and while I feel like plot wise there are a lot of issues to there just having been the means to synthesize artificial life just floating around in the background, while characters like Mayuri and Urahara and even Aizen are out there actively struggling with the process, but I like the idea of a kind of middle ground where, ignoring the stupid contrivance of the Gremmy brain thing, Hikone's fundamental contraction isn't quite artificial "life" in the spiritual sense that Bleach deals in so much as it is a "body" without a brain.

But I like the implicit idea of having to draw a line around that. If you can make a thing that fulfills most of the requirements of life, then which things reserved for living personhood can it do and which can it not? If you elevate that to the level of godhood, then it's a fun question that in the grand scheme of things where apparently someone needs to be stripped of their autonomy and sit in the crystal for forever to hold the world together, then can it just be a fake person with no autonomy to lose in the first place? Where as Aizen thought being god would be cool(and was very probably wrong), and Yhwach doesn't seem to want to be god so much as remove him and replace him with ???(unconfirmed: in which it seemed like(ironically) plan A was originally Juugram, and plan B was Uryuu), Hikone is the Indiana Jones rock and the golden idol solution to the problem: Can I just swap god out for this god-shaped bag of rocks and get away with it?

I'm sorry between being at work, and googling images, and then making this silly edit now, I've totally lost my train of thought... Uh... to summarize:

I like Hikone as an idea: I like "synthetic god" as a plot hook.

I like their name having associations with silk and, like, silk worms, as if they were spun and woven like a fiber but also with cocoon imagery attached.

I also think they're a super cute design.

I'd have liked the artificial souls to have more of plot behind them: like what are Urahara and Mayrui's actual goals in making them in the first place, other than just mad science for mad science's sake

I'd have liked for Ichigo's(and Aizen's for that matter; like how was it different and/or insufficient by comparison to Ichgio, or Yhwach or Hikone) hybrid theme to have a better actual conclusion.

I'd have liked better exploration of the nature of god souls and what that requires/means

#bleach meta #bleach #CFYOW #ubuginu hikone

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starlyht · 2 months

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✩ — 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒.

▸ IS YOUR MUSE TALL / SHORT / AVERAGE? sol'rys is 5'5, which is on the tall-average side for a drow man.

▸ ARE THEY OKAY WITH THEIR HEIGHT ? yes. less amused when surfacers are weird about it, though. y'all are massive, how is that his problem. it is something he thinks about when fighting anyone larger than him, though.

▸ WHAT’S THEIR HAIR LIKE? wavy, very well cared for, and worn about to his shoulders. a nice shade of silver that stands out against his skin tone. parts it in front of a scar on his face, but if he's working he wears it tied back.

▸ DO THEY SPEND A LOT OF TIME ON THEIR HAIR / GROOMING? yes, when he can. being on the road for circumstances like in baldur's gate 3 where there aren't many chances to care for himself as much as he wants is an exception, and not one he enjoys. when they get to the city and aren't in need of a place to stay he clearly puts effort into how he looks. he bathes, etc, any chance he can get.

▸ DOES YOUR MUSE CARE ABOUT THEIR APPEARANCE / WHAT OTHERS THINK ? yes. he is a bit vain. but that's also probably a natural consequence of having been raised to think the only real value he has is in his appearance. he is very self-conscious of the scarring on his face and ears, particularly when around other elves.

✩ — 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒.

▸ INDOORS OR OUTDOORS? outdoors.

▸ RAIN OR SUNSHINE? rain, if only because he hates having the sun in his eyes.

▸ FOREST OR BEACH? forest.

▸ PRECIOUS METALS OR GEMS? precious metals.

▸ FLOWERS OR PERFUMES? perfumes.

▸ PERSONALITY OR APPEARANCE? appearance.

▸ BEING ALONE OR BEING IN A CROWD? alone.

▸ ORDER OR ANARCHY? order.

▸ PAINFUL TRUTHS OR WHITE LIES? painful truths.

▸ SCIENCE OR MAGIC? science.

▸ PEACE OR CONFLICT? conflict.

▸ NIGHT OR DAY? night.

▸ DUSK OR DAWN? dusk.

▸ WARMTH OR COLD? cold.

▸ MANY ACQUAINTANCES OR A FEW CLOSE FRIENDS? few close friends, if any at all.

▸ READING OR PLAYING A GAME? neither.

✩ — 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐄.

▸ WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR MUSE’S BAD HABITS? perfectionism; he holds himself to a standard that really isn't attainable. alcohol dependency / use. vanity. stubbornness.

▸ HAS YOUR MUSE LOST ANYONE CLOSE TO THEM? HOW HAS IT AFFECTED THEM? no. you can't really be effected by loss if you don't get close to anyone, or haven't really been close to anyone. everyone in his immediate family is alive, and he wasn't particularly close with any of them. if anything he's relieved to be free of that family unit.

▸ WHAT ARE SOME FOND MEMORIES YOUR MUSE HAS? i don't think he looks very fondly on any.

▸ IS IT EASY FOR YOUR MUSE TO KILL? yes. he doesn't care. he'll do what he must. killing and fighting is something he's been desensitized to since he was very young. warriors sent to melee-magthere are noticeably different upon return, and an unquestioning capacity to kill or inflict violence is one such way.

▸ WHAT’S IT LIKE WHEN YOUR MUSE BREAKS DOWN? it can be difficult to tell that he's feeling something, because he tends to get very quiet. he isn't very public about what he might think of something or how he feels, regardless of how strong the emotion. thinking of something like realizing he was infected with the illithid parasite or lycanthropy, there was a fair bit of cursing. he tries to be silent about it, but internally he wouldn't be coping well with either, as much as his immediate response to how can i fix this.

▸ IS YOUR MUSE CAPABLE OF TRUSTING SOMEONE WITH THEIR LIFE? possibly? that would just be very difficult to get to. he lived his entire life in menzoberranzan, and it's been drilled into him that trust is foolish and gets you killed. it's accepted that you don't trust, you ally yourself however temporarily for some sort of social or political gain if not for survival. it isn't sustainable and he doesn't enjoy the extent which he's had to lean into the distrustful self-reliance, but it's not been an easy mindset to break out of.

▸ WHAT’S YOUR MUSE LIKE WHEN THEY’RE IN LOVE? surprisingly normal? he's frustrating probably because he tends to hold himself back, but he can be a quietly affectionate partner in other ways. probably easier to see some of his more positive traits, like his loyalty and protectiveness. shows you he cares through doing things rather than by telling you outright. he also does have a resignedly, frustratingly lolthite approach to love, in that it's only really something women enjoy.

#🏹 headcanon.#alarmed barking !!! 🐕🐕🐕

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tommybowefuneralattendee · 6 months

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oh 4 from the angry prompts for literally whoever you want that one hurts so good - katie

4. “You think I wanted this to happen? You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you?”

linked on ao3 || read under the cut || 3.3k, rated gen

It's not a good day. Both of his dads are on one about something or another, at each other's throats and at Augustus's, though to his knowledge Augustus hasn't done anything particularly wrong. It's just a mood thing. Changing of the seasons, maybe. He doesn't have work today, so he heads over to the Agnew household to get away from the yelling, the angry and snapping retorts, the rare breaking of glass. Swear, his dads were better, more even keeled, when he was a kid. He doesn't know what he did wrong. He doesn't know what he did to them, growing up weird in their presence. Because he knows he's weird. He just wishes his dads didn't think so too. They love him. He just doesn't know if they have any idea how to love him in a way he understands.

He knocks on the door of the Chosen's house, pasting on a smile. He likes Mrs. Agnew. She's told him a million times to call her Laura, smiles at him indulgently when he goes on one of his freak tangents, never makes him feel like an intrusion in her house. The same cannot be said of her son, but Augustus knows Chosen likes him. At least, that's what he tells himself.

"Auggie!" Mrs. Agnew says as she throws open the door, fully outfitted in her scrubs. She's either gotta be just home from the hospital or just leaving- she hates staying in her scrubs for even a minute after getting home. He knows Mrs. Agnew. She knows him as well, unfortunately, because he can see when she clocks the falseness of his smile.

"Hello, Mrs. Agnew. I have come to give your son my esteemed company. Is he in?" he asks, knowing that Spencer is. He wasn't on the schedule at the store today, and the boy has some of the worst agoraphobia Augustus has ever seen, and he's him. He knows freak behavior when he sees it. Laura gives him a slow look, still kind but questioning, and opens the door wider for Augustus to step inside.

"He's right in his room, Auggie, I just told him bye. It's swing shift tonight, so I'll be home around 3am if you're still here, kiddo. You two play nice," she says, grinning at him before leaning up to kiss Augustus on the forehead. The affection of the action nearly brings tears to Augustus's eyes, but that would be terribly embarrassing, and so Augustus does not allow that to come to pass.

"Have a good shift, Mrs. Agnew," he says, unsure of what else to say. Mrs. Agnew leans back in the door to say one last thing before she closes it behind her.

"For God's sake, Augustus, just call me Laura!"

Instead of thinking about that, Augustus makes his way down the hallway toward her son's room. Chosen likes to pretend that he does all of his living out of their garage, but most of his belongings and markedly his bed are located in a bedroom right next to his mom's. The Agnew house feels so much more like a home than his own. He's always heard about how sad it was to have only one parent, about how people with both of their parents still should be grateful, and he is, but. There's a but. Laura loves Spencer like she never even tried to learn how to do anything else, indulges him in his oddness, makes sure he has a therapist that doesn't invalidate his delusions. They all know Spencer knows the difference between what's in his head and what's real; it's that talking about himself in the way that he does makes the Chosen feel more in control of the situation. And there's nothing wrong with that.

He knocks again, this time on Spencer's bedroom door. It drifts open slightly as it hadn't been properly closed. That's pretty typical of Laura being the one to close Spencer's door. Moms are like that, he thinks. He wouldn't really know, though, would he? When he pushes the door open, Chosen is sitting on his bed with a book in his lap, sunglasses sitting on his bedside table. His hair is falling in his face and he's utterly focused on the material in his lap. He looks pretty. Augustus taps his knuckles against the door a second time.

"Mother, I thought you had- you are significantly not my mother. What are you doing here, you sloppy idiot?" the Chosen asks, his tone vitriolic and dismissive like Augustus isn't here at least three times a week. Today, Augustus folds under the pressure. Everything is too fucking much. He can't deal with this, with his own best friend hating having him around, when he's already this close to a break. He closes his eyes for a quick second, swallowing as he tries to keep himself from crying in front of the Chosen. He doesn't know if he would survive the Chosen making fun of him for being emotional right now.

"Never mind," he says at a volume barely higher than a whisper, turning on his heel and heading back down the hallway. He doesn't expect Chosen to protest at all, let alone get up, let alone come after him, so imagine his surprise at feeling the other boy collide with his back, arms wrapped tightly around his stomach. It stops Augustus in his tracks.

"I'm sorry," Chosen mutters into the back of his shoulder, "I know I'm a dick, but please don't go." If he's ever heard Spencer sound so unsure of himself, he doesn't know when it was. He puts his hands over Spencer's and leans back against his friend, the Chosen immediately resettling his weight to accommodate Augustus better. They've never been the hugging kind of friends, let alone the kind that hold one another like this. It's nice. It doesn't remove the empty sadness in Augustus's chest, hot like mourning, but it helps. Only a little, but it helps. Augustus closes his eyes again. It makes the world quieter.

"It's not you, Chosen. Just a bad week," he says, his voice still that empty whisper. Spencer squeezes him a little before turning Augustus around, pulling the other boy's head to rest solidly against his neck. Augustus relaxes into his hold.

"I'm sorry to have contributed to the substandard condition of your week. If there is some way I can assist you, vanquishing your foes for example, you must know that I would complete whatever task you asked of me," the Chosen says, and it's really nice to have a best friend that is also autistic. The complexity of his linguistic patterns is fascinating. As much as Augustus tries to distract himself with that line of thinking, tears are still welling up at the corners of his eyes. He presses closer to the Chosen, hoping that the other boy won't be able to feel the moisture of his tears through his shirt. It's a pretty thick shirt. He doesn't know how Chosen deals with that texture. Different autism, he guesses. Back on track.

"Fighting with my dads again. It's no big deal, dude," he assures, his voice muffled because he doesn't lift his head. He really doesn't want to show Spencer his face. He knows he's red, and splotchy, and that his glasses have been pressing into his face for the last few minutes, and he doesn't want to give him any more ammunition for calling Augustus names. The Chosen makes a little confused noise. The fact that it's adorable doesn't even occur to Augustus. (This is a lie.)

"Again? You have not told me about this previously," Spencer says, his tone lingering somewhere between confused and something that might be hurt. Augustus doesn't know. No matter how much he studies people, he still gets it wrong sometimes. It makes a customer service job incredibly difficult. Stay on task, Augustus.

"Why would I? It's not like you care," he says, injecting some humor into his voice given the obvious nature of the statement. Chosen squeezes him a little, not hard but like a reflex, like he didn't mean to do it at all. He loosens up nearly immediately, starting to shift back, but Augustus isn't ready yet. He wants to pretend that Spencer actually likes him, is that so wrong? He knows that Spencer doesn't actually care. He knows that this probably has more to do with whatever happened to Spencer since he last saw him than it does to do with him actually giving a shit. Augustus isn't an easy person to give a shit about. He knows that.

"The magnitude to which I do care has been alarmingly cumbersome in recent months," The Chosen says stiffly, even the vibration of his voice somewhat sharp in nature. Forgetful of his own reasons for not putting space between them, Augustus ducks back to look Chosen in the face.

"What do you mean?" he asks, squinting.

"It seems I have developed... feelings. For you. Against my better judgement," Chosen says, still still, but almost embarrassed now too.

"You're joking," Augustus says flatly, voice empty of all inflection. Spencer rolls his eyes.

“You think I wanted this to happen? You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you?” he asks, and Augustus can't fucking do this. He can't stand in Spencer's hallway with Spencer's hands on him, listening to Spencer lie to him.

"I'm already upset, and you're joking me about the fact that I have a crush on you. This is a new low, Spencer," Augustus says, and the Chosen's heart drops to his stomach. This idiot cannot like him back. With how Spencer treats him? Being attracted to, let alone genuinely liking Spencer seems indicative of some extraordinarily low self-esteem, but it's not like... well, it's not like Chosen doesn't want it to be true. Would it be better for Augustus, probably, but who else is going to keep him safe? With Augustus aware of his feelings, he can be more overt in how he cares for the other boy, and defend him from others without the worry of Augustus reading more from it than he's willing to share. He can do something to balance their scale, which so often goes unfairly in the Chosen's favor; he knows that Augustus lets him get away with fricking murder. And all of this only matters if Augustus accepts his feelings. Accepts him.

"Augustus, I am not joking. I assure you, I would never joke with you about something of this nature. It should also be noted that... I did not know that you have feelings for me. I am not sure how to proceed under these conditions," the Chosen says, his expression quickly betraying how awkward and uncomfortable he feels. Augustus looks at him, head tilted, for several solid seconds.

"Wait, are you serious?" he asks, incredulity palpable as it drips from his tongue. Spencer blinks.

"Do you know me to lie?" he asks, tilting his head in an unconscious mirror of his friend. Augustus sighs.

"Well, like, no, but. I can't... I can't be disappointed again. Can't be disappointed if you never expect much." Augustus says the last part like a mantra, worn from it's repetition. His eyebrows raised but he's not looking at the Chosen's face, so he doesn't see the way Spencer looks like someone slapped him across the face. "You can't stand me. You've told me several times. To my face." This drops out of his mouth with the clunky weight only resignation can tender, as if Augustus had repeated those to himself as well, like if he broke his own heart first, Spencer wouldn't be able to hurt him. Chosen's chest hurts. He wishes the weight of the safety of the world on his shoulders had not hardened him to showing his feelings for Augustus, that he could have told Augustus how much he cares for him without wanting to crawl out of his own skin. Augustus needs this, and so the Chosen will have to be brave. He can do that. He's good at brave. He reaches down and takes Augustus's hand off of his hip (as much as the very sight of it nearly overwhelms him), tangling their fingers together. He lifts their hands to his mouth, looking directly at Augustus as he presses a kiss to the back of the other boy's hand.

"I have been unkind to you, and for that I apologize. If you would allow me the opportunity to make it up to you, I would not disappoint you. No matter your expectations. Expect as much of me as you'd like," he promises, forcing the words out past the hot feeling in his chest, the thing that had always caused him to lash out at Augustus to keep the other boy at a distance. Chosen has no idea what to do with the way Augustus makes him feel. It felt like the world ending when Augustus had turned to leave him. He knows he makes it hard to stay. He just hoped Augustus would anyway. Suspicious still, Augustus has his eyes narrowed once again. At least he's looking at him.

"If there was a new restaurant that I wanted to go to, would you let me be annoying about my review for the entire hour or so we're there?" he asks, looking like he genuinely wants to understand. Chosen drops his shoulders, relaxing more than he typically allows with any other soul in the room.

"I like listening to you talk," he says honestly, dark blush crawling up his face as soon as the words are out. Telling Augustus the truth of his feelings may be even more difficult that originally estimated. He is the strongest warrior in the multiverse. He's good at brave. Augustus is blinking rapidly, his disbelief still plain.

"What if I wanted to kiss you in public?" Augustus asks next, and Chosen knows immediately that his flush has gotten even darker. His face is hot. He brings their hands up to his mouth, leaving Augustus's hand to his lips for longer than a second this time. He clears his throat, moving their hands back down to rest Augustus's knuckles against his chest.

"The idea that you would like to kiss me at all is one I am still growing accustomed to. The idea that you would want to do so in front of others is... I would not object to it, to say the least," he says, stumbling over his words a bit at the end there. The awe on Augustus's face is finally surpassing the suspicion, like what Chosen is saying is finally beginning to sink in. Augustus pulls him a bit closer and Chosen would do anything he asked, he thinks. The unbridled devotion that he had been holding back with the idea that Augustus did not want him like this has truly escaped its enclosure. As long as Augustus would have him, he would be the loyal champion of this boy. Augustus releases a squeaky giggle. He's so fricking cute. This is not becoming of a warrior.

"And if I... if I wanted to kiss you now?" Augustus asks, his eyes large and round behind his glasses, and Chosen loses most of his stoicism, let alone his sense of decorum. Leaving one of his hands laced with Augustus's, Chosen moves the other to cup the other boy's face, pulling him down and into a kiss. It's Chosen's very first. He never thought he would like it, always thought it would be too wet, too intimate, too close to someone else for comfort. Immediately, he thinks he could kiss Augustus for hours and never grow bored. Augustus makes a soft noise as soon as their lips connect, moves his mouth against Spencer's in a manner that is far too close to overwhelming. Augustus has either done this before or he is very naturally skilled in the area. Truthfully, Chosen would not be surprised by either. Augustus, while admittedly annoying, is quite pretty, and he excels at learning skills with expediency. This is not to say that he will be telling Augustus any of this. Even if he's telling Augustus how he feels now, he does not need to have knowledge of his inner monologue. That's none of his business.

"You can kiss me whenever you'd like," Chosen says pointlessly when he pulls away, as if he had not perfectly demonstrated the point not moments ago. Augustus giggles, pressing his face into Chosen's neck again. It's nice to feel his smile rather than his tears. Chosen puts his arms back around Augustus belatedly.

"You really like me?" Augustus says; it takes Chosen a moment to realize that it's a question. He tightens his grip on Augustus and deeply contemplates finding whatever unfortunate souls had caused Augustus to feel such insecurity and introducing them to his blade. Augustus needs him at the moment, so revenge will have to wait.

"I care about you. I would like to be with you. I have never felt for someone else what I feel for you," Chosen says, the last bit more of an admission than he was certain he meant to give. Augustus pulls back to look at him again, the pink glow of his happiness making Spencer feel weak in the knees. He straightens himself to his full height. He cannot be this effected by how Augustus looks at him. It would be particularly distracting should they be in an unsafe situation. This does not stop Chosen from looking up at the other boy like he hung the goddamn moon.

"What if I- what if I wanted to call you my boyfriend?" Augustus asks. Pleasure is a hummingbird behind the Chosen's sternum, winds spread in his chest, fluttering about. Hummingbirds can flap their wings up to eighty times a second. It feels much faster.

"It would be an honor," he says a beat late, bringing a look of amused affection to Augustus's face.

"Oh my god, you like me," he says, grin goofy and wide, and Chosen feels equal parts fond and exasperated. He rolls his eyes.

"You like me too, idiot," Spencer says, and he immediately winces. "Sorry." His voice is quiet, his gaze somewhere over Augustus's left shoulder. Augustus cups his chin and tilts his head up, making Chosen look up at him again. He's pretty. Spencer isn't good at being nice, even worse at being sweet. His mother says that being sweet was something he excelled at as a child; Chosen does not know when he lost that particular skill. Augustus leans forward and kisses his cheek, kissing the other as well. It sends Chosen blinking, unsure what is coming to pass. He was rude. Why is Augustus showing him affection when he's been rude?

"Spence, I figured out a long time ago that you don't always mean what you say. It's often very confusing for me, really, but I know you. You're an ass, but you're not a dick. If that makes any sense at all," Augustus says; Chosen can't help himself. He bursts into laughter, pressing his face against Augustus's shoulder. With his face hidden, he doesn't see the way Augustus blinks in surprised delight at hearing the Chosen's free, honest laugh for perhaps the first time. Something shakes loose in Augustus's chest at the sound, like he had been waiting in want of that laugh even when he didn't know to miss it. Impulsive, he presses a kiss to the side of Spencer's face.

"You are so dumb," Spencer says, but his voice is so saturated with fondness it's dripping with it. It's sounds more like a pleased observation than anything else, like dumb might be one of Augustus's best qualities. Augustus kisses the side of his head again.

"How about we play a game? You might be my boyfriend now, but I'm still gonna kick your ass at Smash," he says, attempting to bridge this new development with the way they've always been. Chosen pulls back to look at him, eyebrow raised.

"Not on your life, my love," he says, taking Augustus's hand and pulling him back toward Spencer's bedroom with him. My love, Augustus thinks to himself. That sounds pretty nice.

#sorry if this wasn't what you were looking for my friend this idea ate my frontal lobe #nintendogs #the chosen #augustus st cloud #nintendogs is a nightmare ship name tagging wise #ask answered #prompt filled #smosh fic #mine

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dirtytransmasc · 1 year

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Finally Ro'eyk's part!

Z-dog didn't mind being assigned babysitting duty all that much, especially when it was Ro'eyk. She liked kids - and yeah, Ro'eyk was like 18, so not exactly a kid - and Ro'eyk was a nice kid, sweet too once you get past the general weirdness all three siblings have about them.

Ro'eyk was also the easiest of the kids to watch over since he was pretty content to just sit in one place and tinker with his little gadgets. Rävi wasn't particularly bad either, he was easily the calmest and most level-headed but after the last visit to Bridgehead where he graphically described how easy it would be to rip out a human's spine after some dumbass made a comment about flicking up Reyzì's loincloth, Z-dog was more than happy to let Lyle or Lopez babysit the oldest boy.

Reyzì was Reyzì. It was agreed that if the Colonel couldn't watch the girl, then Mansk would.

Z-dog liked Mansk, sure she heard the rumours about the guy, and she's seen him snap more than once, but he was a good guy, just got a very shitty and very fucked hand in life.

The kids got dealt with a similar hand too.

But at the end of the day, Mansk was the only one outside of Quaritch - or her siblings - that could rein Reyzì in, and frankly, Z-dog was pretty sure the girl had a crush on Mansk.

"Fuck!"

The hissed curse broke Z-dog away from her inner thoughts, and she looked down at Ro'eyk, who was sitting crisscrossed beside her on the ground, who was fiddling with a long metal tube with a bunch of wires inside.

"What'ca doing kid?"

"Making an EMP."

What the fuck did he just say?

Z-dog abandoned the bubble she was blowing, suddenly at attention as she looked more closely at the device in Ro'eyk's hands. Crouching next to him, careful not to get too close as they long learned that touching the boy without warning didn't usually end well, and lowering her voice - both to remain unheard but to also sound comforting.

"An EMP?"

"Yeah, an electromagnetic pulse device."

The calmness with which he said it was unnerving, it reminded Z-dog of the frigid and steady tone she heard Rävi use when threatening that human worker, or the almost sweet but too sharp smile Reyzì did.

"Can I ask why you're making one?"

Ro'eyk stared her in the eye.

It was unsettling, the kid never looked anyone in the eye and now that he was - big amber eyes that bore into her yellow ones - a sudden shiver shot up the marine's spine.

"To take out Bridgehead's life support systems if necessary. Don't worry, I won't set it off unless Ardmore tries to put Spider back in that machine."

Z-dog really fucking hopes that the General doesn't do that because right now, she's pretty sure this 'sweet kid' has zero qualms with causing a practical genocide.

If Lieutenant Nikita 'Z-dog' Zdinarsk never mentioned the EMP, or the fact it wasn't on Ro'eyk when leaving Bridgehead, that was something between her, god, and the boy whose idle fingers made explosives.

I think the msot terrifying thing about the siblings is that ro'eyk, despite being the least imposing of the siblings by first glance, he is without a doubt the most deadly.

he's the one who feels no sense 'connection' towards his victims. reyzi feels hot boiling rage towards her victims, Ravi feels cold controlled wrath; but both of those things have to run out eventually, they can't last forever. but Ro'eyk feels nothing, he is capable of genocide, and not feel a thing, he can't burn out, there is nothing to run out; there is no need for a drive of any sort, cause to him, killing a perceived enemy is just the same as taking out the trash.

reyzi and ravi are also both vaugly personal killers, they want to be smeared in the blood of their victims, they want to smell their fear and watch the light leave their eyes. even if they plunge into the battlefield, it is still on some level personal.

ro'eyk on the other can, takes his victims out from the distance, preferably with no mess on his hands, so he builds bombs and EMP's capable of leveling whole buildings or wiping out a whole system's air supply like its a model toy, no stress. that's what makes him so utterly terrifying.

and despite that, even if a little part of her knows to fear him enough to make sure she doesn't get on his bad side, she's still her little guy.

also "the boy whose idle fingers made explosives," is such a good fucking line oh my god, its stuck with me since I read it.

#spellman siblings #z dog #zdog #recom z dog #recom zdog #mama bear zdog #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #my little sociopath <3

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