#they're coming... at some point

[utterlyazriel]

whom the shadows sing for— (and the thief's echoing hymn)

a/n: it's time for some more ✨trauma✨ time to learn ur own backstory tehe <3 feel free to let me know what you think or any future... predictions... you think might be coming...

word count: 3.3k

synopsis: Azriel leaves for Velaris. You reflect on old choices and everything that you lead you to where you are now— and realise it's been awhile since you had anyone to miss. fem!reader, mulan-esque au

—CHAPTER THREE :: COMPANIONS

There's a girl screaming in the middle of camp.

Anguish, a pure guttural agony, litters her voice. She's shrieking, screaming herself hoarse, tortured cries piercing the air as a piece of her identity is ripped from her forcibly. The scream that you know only follows a wing clipping.

Fear rolls through your body, seizing every nerve til your limbs lock up. Your stomach lurches, nausea swimming and threatening to choke up your throat. The screams dive beneath your very skin and make a home there, unbidden.

The screaming isn't stopping and you acutely notice that you're crying because of it, big fat tears rolling down your face as though you're the one in pain, unable to quieten her suffering, because... because...

Because the girl is you.

The girl is you and they had found out somehow and they had come, they had held you down and taken the knife between your wings and starting slicing through muscle and sinew and it fucking hurts, it hurts so much—

A ragged gasp rips from your throat at the slice down your back.

You wake you with a violent twitch.

Your dagger is in your hand in an instant, stored beneath your pillow, always within reach. The cool leather beneath it is a comfort as your senses search blindly for any threat. The rabbiting sound of your heart looms in your ears and you keenly strain your ears to try listen over it.

A threat? An intruder? You're looking for anything hidden in the darkness, while your senses are still swamped by your nightmare. The effects of it are melting away too slowly. Your breath comes too fast.

Shadows loom. You're not sure what is fear is still lingering from the dream and what is real instinct, kicking in to protect yourself.

Worse is, your suspicions are not at all unwarranted.

Around you, the space is still. Dead air trapped within your shelter.

Outside, the howl of the Mother's Kiss sounds again, the rattling wind against the windows somehow grounding you into your home. You're in your home. You're not out in the middle of camp, not held onto that horrid stained piece of earth where all the clippings take place.

You're tucked away in your space, hidden beneath your secret still.

Your chest heaves rapidly, dregs of panic still running through your system. You force yourself to inhale slowly, blinking slowly and letting your eyes adjust to the night. It's still dark.

It's nighttime and you've had a night terror and you're still safe, still just like any other male in the camp.

Behind you, you give your wings a little shiver, just to check.

Still there, still working in every capacity. The relief that pours through you soothes like a balm, heady and overwhelming. You release a shaky breath and curl your knees up to your chest, wings cocooning around yourself.

The nightmares, this nightmare, has been unrelenting for as many years as you can remember. Well, since...

Since twenty six years ago, when you had made a very difficult choice.

Perhaps the only time you'll ever be thankful for being a bastard in this camps is when it had granted you the privacy to make such a choice. Nobody cares if a bastard child dies, male or otherwise.

It had made you dispensable and therefore, unnoticeable.

Nobody noticed when one more begging child, one more hungry face, went missing. And certainly nobody paid any mind when one more turned up again — hair cut down to the scalp, bleeding in places from the shoddy cut, and a gritty determination in their eyes.

No, in fact, the only time people started noticing you was when you started tasting the mixture of blood and dirt, knocked down in a fight you knew you had no chance of winning.

You had started it. Pushed your way into the group of boys and shoved one, hard. Fought back as best you could with half formed fists that quickly got pushed into the mud and held there as the boy you shoved wailed on you, hit after hit after hit.

By the time he had been pulled off you, your mouth was a river of blood and your face ached in a way you had never felt before.

The very bone of your skull felt bruised. Your nose was definitely broken. You wanted to cry but even scrunching your face up hurt too much. It was impossible to think anything beyond pure pain.

The group of boys were sneering as they left you in a crumpled heap on the ground, kicking mud in your direction and hissing the word bastard.

But not one mention of you being anything other than that.

Just a bastard. No slighted comment at being a female, at not being worthy of a fight for that reason.

In the Illyrian Mountains, being a bastard gave you very little in the manner of food, things, and choices. If you managed to survive past childhood, that is.

If you could scrape around for food to fill a belly that never seemed to stop growling and manage not succumb to icy embrace of the winter in the mountains, there was very little waiting for you. Even less so, if you weren't a male.

Males, at the very least, could fight for a sliver of something better.

And wasn't that just the Illyrian way? If you can fight, if you can beat and claw your way to the top, it's worth something. It's the only way to gain respect. To earn it, even when you came from nothing.

For you? Living past childhood would mean getting your greatest love torn from you.

You had seen half a dozen clippings before the age of ten. It was said that other camps littered throughout Illyria tended to be more gracious. Did it in private. Healers on hand. No excessive force.

But you'd believe that when you saw it — clippings were brutal.

Females having experienced their first blood were dragged out into the middle of camp, some kicking and screaming, others a ghostly quiet. Everybody watched and nobody stepped in, no matter the pleas.

You, no older than eight years old, had stared at the bloody patch left on the ground til your vision had blurred. It was crimson, mixing with the dirt of the earth. Beneath it was this horrid scorched brown colour.

Old blood.

The final straw for you had been Adesi— Lord Mylind's own daughter. You're not sure when or why some part of your had become convinced that she might be spared. That because her father held rank and could bend certain rules, that she might escape the fate you so feared for yourself.

She hadn't. Lord Mylind had done the clipping himself.

And she hadn't cried or fussed. There hadn't been a struggle, just this soft weeping as she kept her eyes on the ground, every pained sound that passed her lips lined with a bitter resignation of knowing this was always coming.

It had stoked a simmering ember within you — a furiously upset flame that burned hotter and hotter, til you were trembling with the force of it. Forced to watch yet another girl stripped of her freedom. Polished up for breeding stock.

If Adesi wouldn't be spared, neither would you. The future, you could see, was growing impossibly bleaker and would continue down that path if nothing radical appeared to change its course.

You had cut your hair that same very night.

It was a shit job. Trying to get it as short as you could manage without a mirror or proper tools to do so proved incredibly difficult. The lack of proper shelter didn't help either.

Bandages you were stock-piling for Mother knows what were used to bind your chest. Then you spent the rest of the night time scouring the mountain-side for those bitter herbs on the mere hope that the rumour that they would keep you from bleeding held an inkling of truth.

The next day had been the day you got into your very first fight.

The first of many. Lord Mylind didn't take kindly to bastards, especially when you paled in comparison to the size of the other novices. You had been refused to be allowed to join training the first time you had tried, his cold eyes narrowed with a cruel curl of his upper lip.

But you had, perhaps, what no one else did.

No other way forward. No other choice.

Every part of you that yearned to keep your beautiful wings, to keep your freedom, your autonomy, was channeled into your intense drive. You would not be so easily dissuaded.

You trained day and night, working up weak muscles til they hardened beneath your skin. Without proper training, it was nowhere near as efficient as it could've been. There was no-one there to soothe the aches of your growing pains, nor the sores that came with hitting the ground time and time again as you honed the balance and fluidity of your body.

A season passed. Your drive did not falter— not when half a dozen more females got clipped in that same period. A wedge drove itself between your ribs, attempting to crack open your chest; a heavy guilt at what they experienced... what you could not yet prevent.

It pushed you to train harder than before.

It took seven whole months of solitary training before Lord Mylind reluctantly allowed you to join the ranks— forced to when you disarmed and wiped the floor with Brudam in the ring to prove yourself.

By that time, the list of clipped females had climbed to nearly fifty. You kept track of every single one, forty-eight notches carved into your soul for every person you failed to protect from a terrible fate.

It killed you having to bide your time.

To train alongside the males of the camp who detested you as they did any such bastard. To hear their uncaring jeers of the clippings as they flaunted their own wings proudly. There was no shortage of things to stoke the fire within you, fury burning through every cell in your body. There was no distraction from the ultimate goal.

But between Lord Mylind's abysmal training, geared specifically at you, the purposeful way other warriors wouldn't hesitate to kick you while you were down, and having nobody else in your corner, you had no other choice.

Routines formed. Train. Eat. Train. Scrounge for ingredients, for knowledge, anything on healing tonics. Fail miserably at making anything. Chew the bitter herbs. Train. Sleep. Wake. Train.

Loneliness became a familiar companion.

Every creak in the dark was a potential threat that came looking to see if they could knock the unwelcome bastard out of the ranks. You learned to not just how to duel, but how to brawl and win. To fight dirty. To come out as unscathed as possible.

Your first bleed did eventually come, bitter leaves be damned.

They had done a decent job. They had given you a few crucial years to establish yourself as a worthy fighter, not to be messed with, and enough time to build the shelter you now called home.

It had been a saving grace. If you had been out and exposed, if any of the males in town came sniffing for a fight and felt entitled enough to challenge you, the lie that kept you safe would've come tumbling down like a house of cards.

All those years turned to ash. Wasted. For nothing.

And the only thing that terrified you more than that was... what you were certain they would inflict upon you if they ever found out.

In some of your worst nightmares, they do much worse than just clip you. They take them from you— saw them from your back, splintering bone and tearing muscle, not caring if you cry or scream — not caring if you die.

Around you, your wings give a shiver as if they could feel the ghost of pain that still lurked from your nightmare. You curl them up tighter around you. A blanket of softness, of warmth, finally breaks the chill on your skin.

Routine was easy. Your terror was manageable based on the familiarity of your life. The fact that you had nobody to lean on meant everything, every pillar of comfort, of tough love, of the extra push when you needed it, came from within.

Slipping away from training to deal with the excruciating agony of your cycle was a necessity, even if it pained you to do so. Avoidance of the Blood Rite was born from that too. It was too great a risk— too much time spent that you couldn't ever be sure wouldn't overlap with your cycle.

Besides, you already had the biggest target on your back — the label of bastard giving you more than your fair share of enemies.

They would hunt you down on the first night. That you had no doubt about. The killing would be slow and merciless. To you, the Blood Rite was just another brand of nightmares.

All this dread had become second-nature, stitched into the fabric of your angry and miserable life which seemed to exist against all odds. You were cursed with an ambition that would not let you rest. A compassion that drove you to keep training, to help others more than just yourself.

You were singular. A lone ranger who relied on nothing but your own instincts to keep getting you through the day.

You were solitary. You were lonely.

And yet, within the last month, something else had barrelling into your life and altered its course.

A Shadowsinger.

A Shadowsinger with hazel eyes that dance with mirth and a rueful smile that comes out far too easily for the battle-hardened soldier you know him to be. He's a conundrum. A mentor and a damn hard-ass when it came to training but also someone you could trust.

Calling him a friend felt too close.

A tenative ally, perhaps. A companion, even.

And the fact you can trust him — the fact that you do trust him — is perhaps the biggest change of them all.

All of your routines have been suddenly altered.

Because now, unlike ever before, there's someone there in the morning. Someone to notice your absences. To come looking when it takes longer to drag yourself out of fitful sleep. To comment on the circles under your eyes and roll back the punches accordingly.

He brings the things you need, a sudden plentiful stash of ingredients you wouldn't have dreamed of affording. The good stuff that makes a difference in the potency of a healing tonic. In turn, your feeble attempts at concocting have begun to produce far more useful results.

He brings food too.

No point in all this training if you look like your bones will snap. He had said, almost dismissively as he summoned the abundance of food from within that pocket in the shadow realm. You had been too startled by that alone to question how much he had brought with him.

A fucking feast. Enough food to last you at least half the year, if you stretched it.

Some withered, bitter part of you had shriveled up when you saw it. Your mouth watered and your stomach ached and yet still, you couldn't help how you snapped at him.

I don't want your pity.

Azriel had leveled you with a stare, his shadows roaming about his shoulders like wisps of smoke. He tilted his head to the side an inch, as if trying to pick apart the reasoning for you being so standoffish.

It's not a handout. It's part of our deal. Like I said, there's no point training you if you're starving all the while.

You bristled as his tone, even if there wasn't a hint of condescension to it. It was strong and sure.

When you still hadn't moved, Azriel had spoken once more. It's okay. To eat. I understand that generosity is not something you are familiar with but not eating will not help any of them. Getting stronger will.

He had spoken as if he knew that exact reservation on your mind — the sheer unfairness of having a platter served up to gorge yourself sick on, when so many others... So many others had nothing.

Eat. Azriel had murmured, turning for the door. He had paused just like he had on that first ever night, one scarred hand on the door. Please.

A particularly loud whirl of the Mother's Kiss outside shakes you from the memory.

You blink hard. Your wings twitch and curl in even closer as you realise you've been looking at the door. Looking at where he had stood all those nights ago.

That conversation had been in the first week of knowing Azriel. Back when you were still so wary it was impossible to not raise your hackles when he came knocking at your door, no matter how friendly he had seemed. Friendly, but not harmless you knew.

It took time to stop being constantly on guard around him. But if your lack of trust and general frostiness bothered Azriel, he never let you know.

And now... now you've known him for nearly a month.

A month of routine with him in it. With sparring in the morning, tiring yet rewarding drills beneath the winter sun, and quiet conversations in the evenings, his hazel eyes competing with the crackling fire with how they set your heart ablaze. A month of companionship.

A month, the first month in years, not spent entirely alone.

In the cool night air, knees pulled to your chest, something tugs at your throat at the knowledge he won't be back in the morning.

Last night, after an evening spent in comfortable company where you finally heard him laugh for the first time ever and nearly melted at the sound, he had told you he would be returning to Velaris.

Temporarily, he added on hastily at the flash of surprise in your eyes.

Business with the High Lord. Reports and assessments to deliver. I's to dot and t's to cross.

He assured you he would be back in a day or two, certainly no more than three. He had left ample food and generous tonic ingredients, with all the assurances to continue practicing during the evening.

With no Azriel, you had no reason to avoid training with the rest of camp.

Maybe that was why this particular nightmare had plagued you tonight. Something curdled up in your gut at the thought of returning to your old routine— another part relishes in how you will get to stand your ground as a better, hardier warrior now. To prove yourself worthy of the specialty training you were receiving.

You huff out a small sigh in the dark.

There's no telling what time it is. You force yourself to sit back, easing back into your bed gently til you're lying back under the makeshift duvet you have. It's moth-eaten and seen better days. You snuggle beneath it anyway.

It's been a long time since you've missed anyone, you think forlornly.

The thought surprises you. Staring at the ceiling, your brows furrow and you close your eyes but the truth of it rings clear throughout your very being. Undeniable.

The Shadowsinger has somehow wiggled into your life, burrowed into your routine and has begun to mean something to you. And when he's gone, you... miss him.

Your eyes flash back open, glaring up at the ceiling, and you huff as if that will change that fact.

Rolling over, you pull the duvet in closer, your arms tucking into your chest snugly. Your bed is a bit too small for someone with wings and they ache because of it. Sleep trickles back into your system, dragging your lids down.

As you fall into sleep, some part of you realises, faintly, that you haven't had anyone to miss in a long, long, time.

This time when you dream, it’s of hazel eyes.

—

tags below!

@strangerstilinski @janebirkln @itsswritten @mischiefmanagers @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @idkitsem @illyrianbitch @jeweline16 @fightmedraco @iamjimintrash @maeandering @spideytingley @aneekapaneeka @cassianswh0reeee @viciane @astarlitsoul @mybestfriendmademe @archiveofcravings @reputaytionn-13 @bionic-donut @chessebookgirl @itseightbeats @littleblackcatinwonderland @twsssmlmaa

#i hope that even tho there's no interactions this chapter u still enjoy it!!! well there is but they're all in the past #just think.... at some point all this horrible backstory... is gonna have to come out #im vibrating in my seat thinking about writing the scene where he figures it out #GAWSH im so excited for it!! #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel shadowsinger x you #azriel acotar #azriel fic #azriel fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #acotar #azriel fanfic

[mispatchedgreens]

welcome to another installment of 'what if the radiant emperor was a whole nother thing', vol. shounen manga

this was fueled by a completely normal post wondering abt ouyang's blade, and then me trying to figure out a universe where he'd wield the zhanmadao

#the radiant emperor #she who became the sun #he who drowned the world #zhu yuanzhang #general ouyang #esen temur #ma xiuying #my art #playing another round of is this even for anyone #in my days of ailment and suffering I've been doing nothing but watching anime #so these happened organically and like an evil prophecy coming to life #notice how i haven't drawn my oh tea pea bc Balance! #actually no I'm just too tired after painting that ma #maybe I'll do more covers later with the rest of these dickbags. and xu da. #this is the one where! ouyang escapes soon after all the ouyangs have been killed! #so obviously he ends up w zhu at some point and they're buddies and zhu lounges behind him and claps as he slaughters! #they're friends they're buds they're besties #and the ouyang esen business happens as unhingedly but more nemesis to ally to friend to crazyinsane no-straight-explanation manga mind meld

[scltbvrns]

homogenising something that has always been inherently diverse will kill us all one day.

#-> myra text #political critique #that is why hindutva should have not been popularised. hindutva is not decolonisation or reclamation. #it is homogenising and exclusionist. it takes away the diverse history of this country. #but this statement will reach deaf ears. rather than critiquing nobility they will go and bark casteist and islamphobic bs. #did invaders did what invaders do? yes. but this whole property destruction and lives being at risk has been going on for years. #biggest example who are quite popular: ajatshatru (son of bimbisara) & ashoka the great (the massacre at kaling) #i'm all in for criticising nobility i have no respect for any kings despite their religion and community and whatever. #they're all shits who benefited and left the common people to rot. #these people will say that tipu sultan is the devil reborn but will go on praising the marathas #as if the marathas did not cause a bloodshed in bengal karnataka and the punjab regions. not saying tipu is good but i rather #wanted to point out the hypocrisy of people in certain spaces. its a good thing to appreciate history and even better thing to learn from #the mistakes made in past but some of you guys did not understand the whole point. #absolute shit head cunts some of you guys are. come at me brand me whatever slurs you fuckers use i don't give a shit #calling people sex slaves just because they don't subscribe to your viewpoint is not the big own you think it is. #sanghi bs #india #hindutva

[crescentfool]

it's dangerous to go alone... take this with you!!!

#persona 3 #ryoji mochizuki #lizzy speaks #silly little thing for today. happy mochizuki monday! #you know. like. fucking bnuuy but. nui! #im very excited for february :D reload is so sooon and im just !!!!! 💥💥💥💥🚀🚀🚀🚀 cannot wait to experience the journey in HD! #do not install persona 3 reload you'll think you're fine and then you realize you installed a virus called ryoji mochizuki brainworms... #and of course. the nuis should be coming out that month methinks... im so excited to take the guys around to places!!! #u can totally expect that i'll have pictures of the lil guys in situations at some point. im going to cherish the nuis with my life #if any of you are looking to get these!!! they're still on amiami. and ofc proxy is an alternative if amiami doesnt work for you :3 #have a lovely rest of the month everyone!!

[crow-with-a-pencil]

Hi @naffeclipse I'm very normal about your fic. Have some frantic midnight sketches as extra kudos along with some tag rambling :)

#my ârt #crush depth #crush depth spoilers #fnaf #tw blood #tw drowning #idk how many others apply #anyways this is midnight crow coming out of the shadow realm to scream at you #first of all a cs ramble is on the way I'm still recovering from that fic too #im biting you naff im biting you so dang hard #I don't even know much about iron lung besides watching a play through but damn do you make me want to know more #just. where do I even start. the atmosphere is established so well and even though there was such a small space to work with I FELT it #I felt the claustrophobia I felt the walls and the console and the single dim lightbulb as my only solace in this death trap #the THOUGHTS #poor yn had so much time to just get lost in their head and spiral pretty much constantly #the dread. the constant overhanging dread of knowing there's a 99% chance they're not getting out of there alive and at this point #they just want to accept it and let it end bc there's hardly anything to go back to if they live #naff. look at me. reading some parts made my chest actually tighten with dread. it was so well done. #this poor human just buried in existential horror and just wanting it to end in a slightly less painful way #and the unknowable beings trapped outside who absolutely REFUSE to let that happen #god those eldritch fish were trying their hardest but just couldn't get in #yn was trapped inside while they were trapped outside and I just #I am EXPLODING the more I think about it #thinking about when they thought they were drowning and tried to breathe again #wanting to die but still having that instinct to survive #asking to be ripped apart but still cherishing their last breath of air #I'm shaking you I'm shaking you I'm dying on the floor #ough. #I'll never mentally recover from this and I want you to know I genuinely get inspired by your writing #this has been midnight crow ramblings. I just hit the tag limit. have a lovely night.

[butterflysonnets]

yes i'm rooting for m*leven breakup because byler is neat but mostly? i'm rooting for m*leven breakup for the sake of el and mike.

to me, their romance was always a puppy love born out of a combination of social pressures, naïve curiosity, and a lack of true understanding regarding intimacy and romantic love and what it really is. it was real in that they do truly, deeply care about each other and they are close friends, maybe even shared an attraction, but a maturing romance is so much more than that. they've grown up and out of being boyfriend/girlfriend, and that's okay! i think television/film needs to show more often that most of us don't have definite "soulmates" or first childhood loves that we spend our whole lives with. it doesn't mean these relationships meant nothing and didn't impact us, it just means they've run their course and that something else is in the cards, and this is part of life!

i've always felt el was at her best and most confident self when broken up with mike, discovering who she was and what she liked alongside another girl her age instead of just relying on mike for mentorship on how to live in the real world. she deserves more of an opportunity to find herself, her autonomy, and her independence, and to love who she is, and she's made it clear she's felt insecure in the relationship with mike because she isn't being loved and understood the way she wants, needs, and deserves from someone who is her partner.

also, it's okay if mike doesn't love her in "the way he should". he is not obligated to love her romantically and stay in a relationship with her just because she's a girl, because she "needed someone", or because he cares about her a lot. he shouldn't be pressured into a romance if it's not truly coming from his heart. he deserves freedom to find out and honour who he is, too, instead of just staying in his non-functional first relationship — one he got into as a child, essentially — and defining himself that way because it's what's expected when a boy and a girl are close. he loves her in some way, yes, but it's okay if he doesn't feel comfortable or secure being her boyfriend anymore, for whatever reason that is. he's felt insecure too, and that's valid and it matters.

they are their own people and are steadily growing and changing every day. they need time to figure out who those people are, and it's become clear (at least in my opinion) that those people aren't meant to be a couple at this stage.

they deserve freedom. they deserve to grow up and be authentic to themselves and not feel like they need to lie for the sake of a relationship. they deserve to move on from this version of their relationship that isn't making them happy and rekindle the best part of their bond: their strong, beautiful friendship. they don't have to be a couple if it doesn't make them stronger and better and happier people.

i think it would be healthy and wonderful for a show, especially one consumed frequently by young adults, to show a relationship starting, progressing, and ending on good terms in this way. sometimes things don't work out, and that is okay.

#eve text #elmike #stranger things #byler #only tagging byler because i feel like yall will like this take lol #tagging tagging tagging WHAT ARE EVERYONE ELSE'S THOUGHTS #god i can't believe i'm making a post about stranger things. this feels like poking a bear #i'm not particularly anti m*leven but like... they'd have to do something pretty special at this point for me to feel like it's viable #i'm seeing the bts of s5 and it's got me Having Thoughts #elmike friendship is something i am so passionate about #even before i ever liked byler (didn't ship at all until s4 even though i knew it was a thing before) i've felt this way about elmike #i always believed they were close friends at heart and needed to break up #the romance part of them felt very distinctly young and very much “he was a boy she was a girl” to me #and it hasn't deepened into anything more mature and i don't see how it could based on the current state of the writing... #the fact that lumax exists — a young relationship that is actively maturing and is healthy — makes that clear to me #and the “love confession” in s4 and how disingenuous and miserable it felt was just the nail in the coffin #also the fact that will (who is IN LOVE with mike) was instrumental in making it happen? ... uh... okay... interesting choice… #fucked up and reductive if they make it another queer unrequited love sacrifice for the sake of pushing the heterosexual agenda YUCK #so i really hope the speculation about a m*leven breakup is real!! i think it just makes sense for their characters but who knows #i don't believe in the notion of love at first sight or one true love and i think the writers don't too??? #love to me is an accumulation of experiences and we inevitably choose it at some point rather than fall into it... but idk #tv is so fixated on keeping couples together... sometimes it's just not reality guys especially with young people... LET IT GO... #like i said though i'm not 100% sold that they're going to give up their “golden couple” LMAO #stranger things hasn't historically subverted too many tropes if i'm being honest #anyway i seriously need this season to come out quickly... i'm so bored and getting my master's is crushing my soul #i need frivolity #ALSO btw i won't respond to hateful messages about this so please don't bother. it's not that serious. this is a netflix show

[fromtheseventhhell]

"Arya wouldn't have been able to survive in KL" is really one of the dumbest fanon takes where you can tell someone only believes it because they like the idea of Arya and Sansa being "exact opposites and perfect complements" (even though it goes against the books). Actual evidence from the books to back it up? Never anywhere to be found despite how confidently people make this claim.

And not only does it severely mischaracterize Arya and ignore what she's been through, it also ignores her importance as a political hostage. The Lannisters weren't searching for her, and lying about having her, for no reason. They needed her because having only one Stark after executing Ned put them in a poor position to negotiate. So Arya would have been more than capable of handling herself (thoroughly shown in her Harrenhal chapters) and the Lannisters would've done everything in their power to keep her alive but, somehow, she wouldn't have been able to survive? It's truly one of those takes that falls apart if you think about it for more than two seconds but apparently, that's too much effort for some people.

#arya stark #asoiaf #as song of ice and fire #anti sansa stans #cause they're the main culprits #the story comes secondary to putting Arya down to prop Sansa up for some people though #it's just one of the dumbest and easily disprovable takes in this fandom #I don't even get mad when I see it cause I know it's not based on anything in the story and it's just fanon misinterpretations #and then they try to be neutral and say that Sansa wouldn't have been able to survive what Arya did but they NEVER point out Arya's #skills + intelligence or talk about what Sansa lacks in comparison or why she wouldn't have been able to survive #a majority of the time it's just /Sansa wouldn't have been able to pass as a boy/ cause they hate complimenting Arya #I'm supposed to buy Sansa as the smartest character in the books but there's nothing in her chapters that her own stans can use to prove it #they have to rely on dropping the intelligence and skills of other characters to make room for her and we're just supposed to ignore that #/Arya wouldn't have been able to survive/ instead of pointing out Sansa's actual skills okay okay got it #personally I'm going to use quotes from my faves chapters to prove their intelligence but I guess that's only if it's actually there...

[valiantvillain]

So this may just be me being totally naive about how D&D handles vampires but...does Astarion still have, like, bodily functions? Because unless it's mentioned in some banter I've yet to find in-game it never seems to get mentioned and all my Tavs have questions they're too afraid to ask.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #d&d vampires #every story's got different rules when it comes to vampires and every time i have uncomfortable logistical questions #i know that if this man's shooting any shots they're blanks but does he even have ammo anymore? #i'm just saying what all our tavs would be thinking at some point

[molagboop]

Noise game.

#winging it #raven beak #samus aran #samus #metroid dread #metroid #chozo #metroid comic #Chozo have a habit of just making noise. it's fun! #Samus does it too (picked it up during childhood) though her smaller human throat doesn't allow her quite as much range. #make no mistake: her mimicry is very impressive. she just can't flawlessly imitate an oncoming 16-wheeler. #She can do other Things though. As Raven Beak displays his mastery over the ringtone. so too does she have this power. #she has the upper hand in some places: lips and teeth allow her more tools with which to execute the finer points of complex noises #but her elders have tricks of their own. #Raven Beak can imitate human kissy noises in his throat using the very back of his tongue #making noises at each other is honestly one of their best bonding activities so far. #though they're usually sitting across the room from each other when they come out with the ear blast-tier moves #they don't need to talk to each other. don't even need to look at each other. they can just sit in the living room and go back and forth #with noises. they get competitive sometimes. that's typically when the loud stuff comes into play. #sometimes they have these wordless competitions of who can make the most intricate noises or the loudest noises or the weirdest noises #or they try to see who can make the most outlandish sound that flesh can feasibly make. like heavy machinery. stuff that you wouldn't expec #someone to be able to make on their own without the help of equipment.

[hella1975]

it's been pointed out on here before that a lot of terf arguments are actually rooted in sexist idealology that feminists fought and died to unnormalise decades ago and that's its own kettle of fish but one thing i also find very frustrating about this so called 'radical' feminism is that it's so... defeatist? like the moment you categorically label an entire section of society as Bad and Inherently Evil then there's also the implication that nothing can be done about it, and it completely takes all accountability away. saying all men are evil is just another way of saying boys will be boys. he raped her because he's a man. he hit her because he's a man. he didn't listen because he's a man - it's almost offensively oversimplified. there's no point trying to fix this issue in society because men are just Like That, okay! so now what? it's not like they're going anywhere, so you just accept that 50% of the population are evil and will forever treat you terribly and there's nothing to be done about it bc they're biologically predisposed to it? like is that fr the argument here? you're soooo radical for that

#this is coming from someone who used to very genuinely be a misandrist #ironically it was only when i started actually analysing my own feminism that i got MORE confrontational with men #and started respecting my boundaries a lot better BECAUSE i started holding them accountable again #like when men treat me like shit nowadays i dont just write it off as 'what did you expect? he's a man' i get MAD about it #because i EXPECT BETTER FROM THEM even if it's just tiny shit women have to deal with daily #i hold them to just as high a standard as im held to and i make them take accountability when they dont meet that #and whether you realise it or not even on a subconscious level the MOMENT you black-and-white blanket statement all men as bad #you stop holding them accountable. #like it is literally just boys will be boys. do terfs seriously not realise they're sending feminism BACKWARDS #like if a girl came to me with her trauma and people - other girls no less - tried to comfort her with 'yeah all men are evil' #id be fucking furious. like no he did that because he was a piece of shit that had it normalised to him that women arent to be respected #dont you dare let him off the hook with something as simple and uncritical as 'he's a man' #i promise you men like that will MUCH prefer a blanket statement such as 'all men are as bad as each other' #than actually being point blank told they're an abuser or a rapist. because being lumped together is comfortable and even empowering #wheras isolating their behaviour with words that are Bad and Ugly (LIKE 'rapist') is not comfortable at all and has heavy connotations #idk i dont think radical feminism is always bad on its own it can be v liberating. just terfs and misandrists that i have a problem with #dropping this post in a piranha tank and closing tumblr knowing im gonna have some thirty year old karen yelling at me within 5 mins #i probably wont respond to any terf comments bc they literally mentally exhaust me with their stupidity #but that also depends on my mood and ability to keep my mouth shut LMFAO we shall see

[moss-on-trees]

dp x dc prompt: "never ever let a fenton drive", or team phantom's dimension-hopping adventure

danny inherited the abysmal driving skills of his parents. the people in amity park are used to it though so this wouldn't be such a problem if he hadn't started learning to create portals recently, as seen when he opened a portal under his car while driving to avoid crashing into someone else while pursued by the GIW (sue him, it was a stressful situation). jazz is passed out right next to him, sam and tucker are screaming in the backseat while dani's cackling between them, adrenaline junkie that she is. the car is falling into the ghost zone and right out of another natural portal. they land right in front of a group of weirdos dressed in colourful costumes.

"... the only reason why i'm not killing you a second time is because this city looks super goth," says sam, waving the fenton thermos threateningly.

"there's nothing stopping me," mutters tucker, eyeing the costumed people warily.

danny squirms. "well, at least the GIW can't get us there?"

#dp x dc #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc au #batpham #danny phantom #batphantom #bonus point for liminal!team phantom #and the batfam being somehow convinced that they come from a dimension where the whole planet is radioactive #all this because of a throw away comment tucker made about their weirdness being common at home because of the ambient ectoplasm #a possible reason why they were pursued: vlad was somehow caught by the giw and experimented on #turning him into little baby man plasmius #team phantom rescued him very reluctantly #they were caught sneaking out of the facility #though thankfully that was after danny had turned back into his human form #they'll have to come back at some point to close the fenton portal #but i like the idea of them staying and employing their ghost wrangling skills to work with the justice league #either as heroes or support #idk if i like it better if they're still teens in this au or if they're all adults who were just in amity somehow

[coldflasher]

anyway, thanks to that moment in the sound and the fury where barry is standing around watching with blank frustration like "god i wish i'd taken a language in high school" while hartley verbally eviscerates both cisco and eowells in multiple languages, i now headcanon that len speaks a second language, mostly cos barry would find it really annoying

#my headcanons #right now im leaning towards spanish. michael schofield had a hispanic/spanish-speaking cellmate in prison break right? #and who doesnt love a cheeky prison break ref in a coldflash fic #so yeah len picked up spanish in prison. he had the time. im not saying he's like fluent necessarily but he can get by #this gives me a fun chance to have him interact with cisco in spanish while barry is clueless. which is fun. i enjoy their dynamic #even more bonus points if lisa ALSO speaks some spanish because then i can have cisco speak to her in spanish #he thinks she doesn't understand so he says all these romantic things he'd never be bold enough to say normally #and then of course you get the trope where at a pivotal moment lisa turns and answers in spanish and it turns out she knew #what he was saying all along... #it's a classic <3 #anyways im obsessed with this now #the bit gets even funnier if everyone but barry speaks at least some spanish. like iris took it in high school so len and cisco are talking #while barry is like ????? and then iris joins in. still in spanish. and barry's like oh come on!! you too? #so they all get to bully him and he has no idea what they're saying <3

[valentjin]

i come bearing gifts of ascended fiend raphael holographic stickers (or a preorder for an acrylic charm, if that's more your style) + bg3 companion stickers!

*update: Etsy suspended my shop for no reason so I have a bigcartel shop now: valentjin.bigcartel.com

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #etsy shop #raphael bg3 #raphael #come get yalls ascended fiend stuff! aint enough of it in the world #and i have the little guys stickers of the companions too (not sticker sheets though they're individual ones) #i hope to offer prints at some point too <3 #sorry for the radio silence lately i was trying to get all this set up LMAO #idk how to promote myself uhhh look at my stuff it's pretty cool! i apologize in advance for international shipping being horrid

[canisalbus]

i like think about machete's death as a culmination of his paranoia and eventual cruelty and vasco as the single ray of light loving him up through the end. even through as terrible as he becomes, the thought of vasco's heart being with him even as he chokes on his own blood as the one thing that he could hold on to. what is it to love something you know is vile, and to mourn their loss regardless. i could drink the tragedy like wine

.

#*deflated wheeze* #you've clearly Thought About This have you #man #I was about to head to bed and in comes this curveball #Vasco's image of Machete is very different from the public one they've known each other since late teens #of course he'd be willfully blind and reluctant to believe someone you love dearly has developed this widely hated and feared work persona #even when the evidence mounts you still think surely it's not that bad you know they're going through rough time but it'll pass #they're still the same person when they're with you at least mostly #and then when things escalate you take steps to save them but they're not letting you #towards the end Machete is so drenched in perpetrator trauma and moral injury I think he starts to try to distance himself from everyone #on some level he realizes what he's become and how far beyond the saving point he is #everything's gone wrong how did it end up like this #and he can't let Vasco get dragged down with him #his single ray of sunshine #answered #middry #Machete #Vasco

[sadlynotthevoid]

Since I saw that post about og!Cale solving a murder crime in Alberu's noble meeting, I've been obsessed with detective!ogCale, who solves crimes on his free time because he's too fucking bored.

Hence: bungo stray dogs crossover AU where, while a transmigrated RokSoo and company go around doing the usual "let's mess with white star" stuff, og!Cale got basically adopted by a bunch of weird professional detectives.

I'm talking about an AU where bsd happens in the world of tboah/tcf. So, while a member of the agency was going through the county for reasons, they witness og!Cale stealthy dropping a hint about a mystery to a near knight. Then he leaves, pretending to be drunk all the way to his home.

What everyone else sees is the local drunkard ready to cause trouble at the minor inconvenience.

What the detective in question sees is a very bright teen, good at solving crimes, who has nothing to do but pretend to be drunk. Needless to say, they take Cale back with them.

(It could be anyone, but it's most likely to be Dazai if they just take Cale with them and don't tell anyone. Though, I think it would be funny if it was Kenji the one who did it. Double-way adoption ensues)

Og!Cale is puzzled at how he ended up at the Armed Detective Agency as a recruit, but he doesn't complain. He even likes his job and his coworkers, even if Dazai keeps trying to unalive himself.

Besides, he doesn't have to keep with his trash act here. Everyone here is smart enough to tell he's acting. They're detectives, damn it. It would be strange if they didn't notice.

So, freedom.

And the ADA people like him too. This quite quirky, smart, witty and creative teen fits just right with them.

At some point, Ranpo has to tell him that "no, you're not smart. You're really smart. Not as much as me, although" because og!Cale's hypercompetence is normalized for him and sometimes he doesn't realize that "everyone else hasn't reach to that conclusion yet" when talking with normal people.

Fukuzawa looks at this sassy child and is like "I guess I got yet another son". Because, why would the hella rich son of some noble be so happy to join a group of strangers and do all this hard job? You can say he obviously loves his family from the way he talks about them, but he also brights up at the minor genuine act of care. It's concerning. Not urgent, but still concerning. He's keeping him. He's eighteen, legally an adult, and came on his own will. So, It's not a kidnapping.

#og cale henituse #original cale henituse #og!cale henituse #bsd #and about how does og!cale keep at day with the other powered members #idk man #he's og!cale. if he got an ap or took on swordmanship or any other weapon #or even if he got some thames secret thing #all of them are possible #bsd x lcf #detective og!cale AU #btw fukuzawa has big dragon vibes so... #just saying #og!cale took one look at the younger members and went like 'they're all my siblings now' #oddly ranpo did the same with him #he was like 'yes we're both amazing. we could be brothers' #at some point both groups run into each other and is like #'what are you doing here?' coming from the people covered in suspicious things #og!cale is like 'idk. I came here one day and just never left' #dazai mess with ron for fun and giggles #as he should

[ddenji]

okay i think this is about to be an unpopular opinion but…. these two are like 2 sides of the same coin to me. beyond the shared public safety allegiance, they both violate denji's autonomy (yoshida stripping him to his underwear, tying him up, and threating his family in chapter 132 vs fumiko assaulting him in the movie theater in chapter 136) and work against his own best interest for the sake of the government. however, while they both take action in trying to force denji to do what they want, fumiko takes a more directly active role in the space of the fanatic who can't see/ doesnt care about the human behind her idol, whereas yoshida takes the more passive role of the government drone who wont act to protect the human if it means going against orders. in previous chapters, fumiko actively runs away from denji, leaving him to fight for himself, while yoshida passively tells denji that he isnt allowed to protect himself, putting him in harms way in his own right (and there is still the underlying threat of violence there if he tries to protect himself). even in the panels from this chapter, we see fumiko being active about her disregard for denji's well being by asking for little pieces of him, where yoshida is more passive in his disregard of the plan to dismember denji with a simple "yeah" answer. i know that they also have their differences, but i just think that they share intentional similarities (that other characters, particularly in the chainsaw man church, also share!!) that overall lead to denji getting hurt.

#chainsaw man #csm #chainsaw man manga spoilers #csm 156 #spence.speaks #guys pls don't come for me... #know that this is all fun & games and if yoshida is your scrimblo then please enjoy away!!! but #listen. the yaoi goggles are real and they're blinding some people #sorry…. just know that i've been there too.... #i don't really like either of them... but i hate to see a man get praised while a woman is getting hated on #it doesn't sit right with me #i've just lived through too much fandom misogyny to let fumiko get hate every chapter (even though it's deserved) #while yoshida gets “aww it must be really hard for him to hurt denji like this” (which is definitely not deserved at this point.) #don't worry guys in 20 chapters when yoshida finally shakes off public safety and helps denji i'll be willing to take this back #but until then... he is not denji's friend to me lol #anyways enough waxing about this #flop post incoming