#this post by itself is fully just me rambling though

[ambient-arena]

what if the narrative wasn't so horrifically fond of gideon. what if instead of the lobotomy harrow just straight up tore herself apart trying to pry gideons soul away from hers. what if she resorted to the same violent, animal desperation john did when trying to consume the earth but instead of trying to destroy she was trying to recover. what if harrow in an unimaginable fit of despair forced her entire soul and necromantic capabilities to their intense limits but it doing so inadvertently rendered the task she was trying to complete impossible. like trying so so hard to use necromancy to give gideon's soul back that she accidentally ended up cementing its place inside her as an eternal furnace even more. and then what if she just lived like that with gideons soul and memory inside her and it was terrible and everlasting. yeah what if also my brain is rotting out of my skull

#stayed up too late being plagued with thoughts #and yes i am going to write this concept as a fic yes its going to have zero semblance of happiness or comfort #sometimes jts fun to be like what if this book that was already terrible and depressing was more terrible and depressing. #what if there was literally no hope #this post by itself is fully just me rambling though #😜 #anyway .. #tlt #the locked tomb #harrow the ninth spoilers #nona the ninth spoilers #harrowhark nonagesimus #gideon nav #griddlehark #< -- but not really. lol

[angeldreamsoffanfic]

content warning: this took SUCH a turn to dom eddie munson wanting to make steve harrington just absolutely one, turn his brain off, and two- realize that his interests aren’t stupid. like it’s not… necessarily explicit on here but when this gets a bit more fleshed out… it’s gonna have to be posted on ao3 😂

-

The thing is, Steve Harrington knows hair- okay?

And he also knows that his friends completely like to tease him about it, that they think that most of the time his affinity for it is a bit narcissistic. That he shouldn’t spend as much time as he does on it and he should “let go sometimes”, but he can’t.

He can remember watching his mother years ago in the bathroom mirror teach him how to style his hair, with little spritzes of water and a just a few puffs of sweet smelling hairspray. He can fully and thoroughly recall flipping through magazines when he was younger, back when his parents had started to travel, and taking beauty tips from the pages in regards to detangling. He’d spent three days with a knot at the nape of his neck, after a few days of swim practice, and he had too much pride at the time to ask anyone for help.

But anyway, Steve Harrington knows hair- and it’s not that he thinks other people don’t… but he also knows that some people don’t care as much as he does. And that’s why watching Eddie Munson take a brush to his curls (completely dry which is painful in it of itself) is absolutely heartbreaking in the weirdest way possible.

Steve also is completely and totally aware that his face must be doing… something, because Eddie has turned around to fully face him- instead of glaring daggers at his own reflection.

“What, Harrington?”

Steve shook his head quickly, fingers drumming against his thighs as he diverted his attention to the tv again. He hadn’t had a television in his room before actually, had figured it’d be a bit too much of a distraction from trying to sleep. Steve is sure there’s some study about the light too, a study Robin had rambled to him before.

That’d been before Vecna though, before the year 1986 and all of it’s horrors that it brought along to the town Hawkins once again. In Steve’s mind? A small tv and a couple of VHS tapes was probably the least of his worries after surviving everything. The tv itself had some poorly made horror movie on, something Eddie had brought along from his government provided home, while the two waited on Robin and Nancy to make their way over.

“Stevie?” Eddie had moved closer, brows slightly furrowed as his dark eyes widened. “What’s on your mind, man? Not getting like…” Eddie mimed wiggling his fingers at the side of his own head, and Steve couldn’t hold back the laugh that made it’s way out from his throat. “Okay so Vecna is not getting his creepy hands on you… so what’s up then?”

Steve took a moment and shrugged, before he let himself card a wide-splayed hand through his own hair. The hairspray was just ever so slightly crunchy under his fingers, and Steve huffed as he shrugged again.

“It’s so stupid man, like don’t even worry about it.” Steve flapped a hand in Eddie’s direction, and Eddie was quick to click his tongue against the back of his teeth as he moved closer.

“Nuh uh, big boy.” Eddie eased himself onto the foot of the bed, and Steve forced himself to not scrunch his nose as Eddie’s dry curls swished a bit around his shoulders. “C’mon I can see it in your eyes! Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell m-”

Steve cut Eddie off with a press of a flat palm up against Eddie’s lips, and Steve tried to not think about how soft Eddie was up against Steve’s skin. Steve groaned as Eddie’s tongue swiped against his flesh, and Steve hissed as he reared backward away from the older teen.

“Fucking gross dude!”

“Usually I’m the one doing that, big boy!”

Steve and Eddie both spoke up at the same time, and the two eyed each other warily, before they split into soft laughs between the two. Eddie then shifted further up onto the bed, back pressed up against the footboard, before he knocked his leg against Steve’s.

“C’mon dude, what’s up?”

“Your hair!” Steve finally answered, before he then folded his arms over his chest. “I know it’s stupid, but watching you tear a brush through it dry is actually breaking my heart, Munson.” Steve groaned, and ran a hand over his face before he continued. “And I know it’s stupid and everyone always says it’s stupid of me to care about hair so much-”

“It’s not stupid.” Eddie’s firm tone cut Steve off, and Steve glanced back toward the man through his lashes. Eddie’s jaw is set, firm and unyielding, and Eddie let out a dry laugh. “Fuck man, what has everyone in your life done to you?”

“Huh?”

“You’re… fuck sweetheart, you’re allowed to enjoy things.” Eddie’s voice has gone saccharine sweet, soft and gooey- and the tone has an immediate effect on Steve, making his brain feel all fuzzy and soft. “So, what has everyone in your life done to you?”

Steve doesn’t answer and instead just shrugged again, and it draws a quick intake of breath from Eddie- before the man has pushed himself up and off of Steve’s bed. He’s quick and methodical in his movements, scraping his curls up and off of his neck into a low bun at his nape. Eddie then pulled his boots back on, before he checked his pockets for a moment, and then proceeded to nod to himself. Eddie then extended a hand out to Steve, and wiggled his fingers with a small grin on his face.

“C’mon then, dude. We need to go to the store.”

Steve let his hand meet Eddie’s, and is quick to ignore the flutter in his stomach at the touch. His hands, Eddie’s, are larger than his but the fingers skinnier and calloused from what Steve knows to be years of guitar playing. That, and Eddie now has a pretty decent job at the local mechanic shop, and Steve knows that Eddie enjoys the job. Knows that Eddie likes working with his hands, and Steve tried to ignore the idea of Eddie getting those hands on Steve—

“Stevie?” Eddie snapped his fingers in front of Steve’s eyes, and Steve shook himself out of his revere. Steve sent Eddie a nervous smile, and he tried to ignore the flush of heat he can feel under his cheeks at the soft coo that Eddie let out. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Mhm,” Steve bobbed his head in a quick nod, even when Eddie hummed before he moved as to grab the pair of Nikes that Steve had on earlier in the day. “Where are we uh, headed?”

“You and I-” Eddie moved back to Steve, and he curled a hand around Steve’s right ankle before he pulled- which caused Steve to unsteadily rock back, before he clamped a firm hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “I gotcha don’t ya worry baby-” Eddie murmured, soft and saccharine again, before he continued on as if Steve’s heart isn’t about to beat out of his chest. Eddie worked Steve’s Nike onto his foot, methodical in tying the laces tight, double-knotted just like Steve does. “You and me are gonna make our way out to Anderson for the afternoon.”

“But why?”

Eddie just sighed, soft and slow at Steve’s softly asked question, before he grabbed at Steve’s left foot, and set about slipping the other shoe onto it. Eddie took a moment, made sure to tie the laces of the shoe tight, before he stood back up so he could peer down slightly at Steve. Steve doesn’t move as Eddie pinched Steve’s chin soft in between his thumb and pointer, before Eddie slightly shook Steve’s face from side to side.

It’s enough that something in Steve just burns.

“Because Anderson has a nice and big hair supply shop in it, and we’re gonna go spend a little bit of government hush money there.” Eddie cooed, his voice soul-achingly sweet again, and Steve forced himself to swallow down the saliva that had been quick to pool in his mouth at Eddie’s tone. “And then when we’re done, I’ll drive us back here and you can do anything you want to my hair.”

“Anything?” Steve croaked, eyes wide as he kept his eyes on Eddie’s from under his lashes. Eddie’s smile is gleaming, and Eddie hummed quietly as he nodded himself.

“Absolutely anything, sweet thing.”

Steve Harrington knows hair, and he knows that.

And he also knows that his friends completely like to tease him about it, well, it’s seems like except for Eddie. So Steve let himself smile and nod, and he reveled in the way that Eddie grinned- a quick flash of teeth as he pinched a little firmer at the meat of Steve’s chin, before he let go.

“Atta boy.”

-

just a little sacrifice to the tumblr readmore gods

#angeldreamsoffanfic #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie munson #steve harrington has bad parents #steve harrington is not stupid #eddie munson lives #dom eddie munson #sub steve harrington #(eventually) #this is getting fleshed out and posted onto ao3 y’all don’t even worry bout it #background ronance #like if you squint your eyes and tilt your head and don’t have your contacts in so everyone looks like everyone #eddie munson’s love language is acts of service #so is steve’s #i wrote this in an hour can you tell

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Is it ever explained in the game why the Mc doesn't have their memories post-resurrection?

Like they get the Fool’s body and the fool is like new beginnings and stuff ( I ASSMUE, Tell me if I'm wrong) , but is an actual explanation in the game? Like did they also have to give something up even though the didn't make the deal? Is it because they don't have their original body?

Spoil it for me idc I just wanna know

The Arcana Brainrot Essays: MC's Memories

Hi anon friend! I hope you don't mind the ramble that's about to proceed -

Not only is the magic system of the Arcana pretty vague, when it comes to MC inhabiting the Fool's body, we have six different canon routes and twelve different canon endings, all with different implications.

With MC not being present for the ritual that gets their body back, it's fairly safe to assume that MC is not bound by any deals at the time of the prologue (though there is plenty of space to argue otherwise, given how vague the details are). Many of the routes include other characters reckoning with the deals they made at the time, but MC's reckoning has more to do with the truth than anything else. The best explanation, and to my knowledge, the canon explanation we get across routes for MC's missing memories is "because of the resurrection." That's it.

Here's where I jump from canon stuff to the implications I picked up through the different routes, focusing on the how aspect:

Similar to what other creators have pointed out in the past, MC's amnesia bears a lot of similarities to amnesia caused by traumatic brain injuries or (in my opinion) trauma in general. Based off of the occasions where MC is able to recover their own memory of dying, it seems like in at least some routes, the memories are still in there. They're just suppressed by a mysterious something. Given how the memory loss is associated with strong headaches, how said headaches are triggered by attempts to remember or vivid references to the past, and how attempting to forcibly remember something has led to further damage in the past, MC does seem to be in the middle of a nonlinear healing journey. As several of the routes progress, we can even see MC being able to succeed at mental tasks with lower levels of difficulty when previously it would have resulted in a debilitating headache.

My personal conclusion from all of that is that MC's amnesia is the result of the sheer trauma of dying and then coming back. It's a mind boggling experience simply to process the facts of what happened - let alone the physical and emotional experience. The story picks up with MC having physically recovered enough to live independently, and continues with MC's mental and emotional growth into fully growing into themself (in the upright endings). In some routes, they're able to recall a memory of their own as the story progresses, in other routes, any knowledge MC receives of the past is from other perspectives. Which leads to one of the biggest questions: can MC get them all back?

Some of our best clues outside of MC's personal narrative are the two other characters involved with returning missing memories: Muriel and Julian. (Asra, we know, forgot the details of the ritual itself, but otherwise has all memories intact. Nadia's missing all memories since entering Vesuvia for the first time, but it's never clear how much she gets back.) Julian recovers his memories when he reverses his deal with the Hanged Man, choosing to live as a normal person again with MC so that he can piece together the answer to the Plague. In his case, all the memories come back at once, fully intact.

Muriel's situation is different. He doesn't have any memories missing, he just has the capacity to take away the memories of the people around him. At first, the method for returning those memories is a sensory trigger (myrrh), but as time goes on and the deal loses its effect, the memories seem to slowly return to the people around him. It's different from Julian suddenly having access to the full breadth of his memories again, but the overall effect is the same: the lack of memory is resolved to the point that "normal" functioning can resume.

So, what does that say about MC's case? In short - anything. It really is up to how you imagine your MC, their past, the specific dynamic they have with their specific LI, how their future progresses post canon, etc. There's canon examples of characters regaining their memories gradually over time, getting them all back at once as the result of a deal, or simply learning to move forward and embrace the chance to start anew. And these are just examples of the default apprentice - there are plenty of MCs with gorgeously fleshed out backgrounds whose stories are their own twist on canon, where none of this really applies!

In short, how MC interacts with their missing memories is largely dependent on who your MC is. As to why they're missing - it's written as being because of MC dying and coming back. Whether that's due to the nature of it being trauma/a traumatic brain injury, or whatever other reason you can think of, is up to you ^.^

Cheers friend!

brainrot

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc

[historicity-was-already-taken]

I want to echo all the nice things people have said about your work, and add one more: I appreciate that your blog offers space to mourn the Holocaust. Not the Holocaust as a metaphor, not the Holocaust as a rhetorical invocation, but the Holocaust in and of itself. It provides a sobering kind of relief. When I was a kid learning about the Holocaust, my classes always showed me Life is Beautiful and The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas (UGH) and one teacher insisted that she wanted me to understand "how the Jews kicked Hitler's ass!" Which... no. On so many levels. So I admire how your work holds the dialectical truths of mass tragedy and brave resistance. Your scholarship matters, your mental health matters, and I can't wait to read your book next year!

This message is so lovely I was too verklempt to even answer it last night. Thank you, so much, for taking the time to write and send this.

And yes I totally get what you mean. It's not some, as you put it, rhetorical invocation populated by faceless martyrs, but the very real murders of millions of real, flawed, living, breathing humans. I think the rhetorical version, with its ideologies and hagiographies, is easier to swallow.

I hate most Holocaust movies. At least, American ones. They just want so badly for there to be a happy ending and...the Holocaust doesn't have one. [Unnamed legendary Jewish director] optioned the rights to [book similar in scope to mine which came out in the last 4 years] and I'm not even upset, because I don't enjoy that director's gentile-focused quasi-uplifting attempts to depict said events. Hitler said he was going to destroy the majority of European Jewry, and he did. In the space of 12 years he destroyed civilizations, cultures, and languages spanning 1000+ years; more, if you hold him responsible for the ethnic cleansing of MENA Jewish communities post-1948. Nothing uplifting there.

That's why I think I like weird, post-modern, magical realist approaches to Holocaust fiction [see: my boyfriend recently convinced me to watch Jojo Rabbit and Inglorious Basterds]. Telling any of these stories doesn't fit into Western narrative conventions. So make it weird; have the characters dance to David Bowie; make it a Western with subtitles; make the audience wonder if magic or just mundane in the specific context of the story. That's, imo, the only way to capture the sheer unreality of these very real events in fiction. I would LOVE a work of magical realist Holocaust fiction that involves the golem of Prague (if it exists omg tell me!) or something similar. Keeping in mind, of course, that I'm neither a film not a literary scholar. Just, as a historian who took one cultural criticism course in undergrad, those feels the most...right.

And oy your teacher. I feel for her; this is a difficult subject to teach. But...the Jews didn't kick Hitler's ass. That's the opposite of what happened. The Warsaw Ghetto Uprising is the most famous instance of organized Jewish resistance to the Holocaust, and those fighters only kicked ass until the Nazis (quickly) realized that they needed reinforcements and flamethrowers because oops these Jews came prepared. And even the fighters themselves knew that they weren't going to "win" anything. They were making a symbolic historical gesture/statement and fully expected to die. To the point that survivors almost uniformly express in their memoirs and testimonies that the ones who died fighting were the only real heroes and they rest of them are nbd, and this isn't something that should be talked about (which, is something that I'm trying to respect in my book! Like the fact that Zivia Lubetkin utterly rejected any attempt to describe her as a hero matters, even though that's how I personally view her).

Anyway I've rambled enough. Thank you again for the message!

[descendinginto-madness]

welt except he has a fever and desperately needs sleep

cw: descriptions of illness, high fever, being kinda delirious/out of it, sleep deprivation?, nightmares, headaches, mentions of death

contains spoilers for welt's hi3 lore

also, disclaimer! welt in here is very reluctant to ask for help and feeling bad about it because... well i imagine he'd react like this, BUT! needing help and asking for it is completely normal and valid and okay; please remember that and take care of urself ok!! ily /p

alright, so...

i'm gonna be honest since i found @bugbytez13 's blog welt sickfic ideas don't want to leave my head LMAO except i will write a detailed description of a fic instead of the fic itself. that's it that's the post

tbh this ramble in particular could be made into two separate fanfics (one sickfic and one specifically about the nightmares) but shh

i will forever be self conscious or anxious about things i post that aren't just headcanons or silly little rambles, but also... writing this went surprisingly smoothly so! enjoy the essay or something idk HAHA

======================================

so, about welt...

i just know this man is going to force himself to stay awake. maybe his self-sacrificing issues are less present now, and he doesn't immediately throw himself in danger in every fight ever, but he's still stubborn as hell. so he won't admit something is wrong. he won't admit that maybe getting way too little sleep several days in a row wasn't doing wonders for his immune system and he's now finally feeling the consequences. to be fair, he expected it might end like this, but he didn't want to take breaks - there's still too many things to take care of before they finally head to penacony. and now, he will still insist of taking care of everything, even though his body is basically begging him to go take a nap.

except maybe, he didn't even expect it to get this bad. or thought that he can just power through it. i mean, he's been through much worse, right? this is nothing compared to literally losing his body for some time. but he's sitting in the parlor car, and he's half awake, and unusually cold, and his head is hurting, and keeping up the act is getting harder and harder - but he has to, because the younger members of the crew are here too, even if only march is talking to him.

but they pick up on the fact that something is wrong, of course they do. his eyes are unfocused, he looks like he's about to fall asleep - or pass out - and march had to repeat herself twice for him to even fully process what she was asking him, and so suddenly stelle is next to him, attempting to touch his forehead - and he recoils. "i'm fine," he says, and it's probably a bit too quick and a bit too firm than he'd like it to be, and all of this is stupid, really, because he shouldn't be scared of someone touching him. how hot can it really be anyway if he's feeling so cold, right? but if that wasn't enough dan heng asks an even more dreaded question, "are you sure, mr yang? do you want us to call himeko?" and welt decides it's time to excuse himself, before he makes them even more worried. because even in his present state, he can pick up on the fact they're concerned, but at the same time unsure of what to do, and it makes him feel guilty. of course they're unsure; he's usually their caretaker, and he always knows what to do, and it should never be the other way around. he should've just stayed in his room all day, shouldn't he.

"thank you all for your concern, but i'm alright." he stands up. "now, please excuse me, i still have some work to do." of course that's true, but he's almost certain he won't be able to focus on that- but he just needs an excuse to get out from here and be left alone anyway.

but stelle is right next to him, and looking determined to accompany him to his room, too. "you look like you're about to fall, mr yang," they explain, and he wants to insist that he's okay once again, but realizes he's too tired to do so. it would take him at least a few minutes, and it's a few minutes he doesn't have nearly enough energy for. he just wants to finally lie down. so, he lets stelle essentially escort him into the hallway and to his bedroom, and make sure he doesn't collapse on his way there, and-- it's embarassing, honestly, because it's already so difficult for him to show himeko the slightest hints that something might be wrong, and right now the situation is similar but ten times worse - so it's also ten times harder for him to come to terms with the fact he needs to rely on someone.

"my... apologies for making you all worry," he says quietly when they reach his room, and he's so thankful that he left the lights off, because the parlor car was way too bright, and though the hallway was a bit better, it still wasn't good.

"it's alright," stelle shakes her head, and stands there in the doorway, even as he heads towards his bed and sits down. "i'll ask himeko to check up on you in a bit?" she asks, and he only nods, though he isn't sure if she can actually see it. he doesn't want to talk anymore, he doesn't want to think because even just that seems to make his headache worse, he just wants stelle to leave, he just wants to sleep-- he isn't even sure if he understood her question correctly, but he also doesn't have the energy to care. he falls asleep the moment the door closes behind her, fully clothed and half covered with a thick blanket, but even then he isn't allowed a peaceful rest.

memories from old battles flash before his eyes, silhouettes of enemies he once fought, those against whom he won - but also of those who severly injured or even killed him, and with that come the memories of the pain

and the fear of losing his body again.

when he finally awakens, sweating, shaky for reasons other than his fever, and still feeling pretty awful, it takes him longer than usual to remember where he is. it takes him longer than usual to remember that he's safe.

but now there's medicine and a thermometer on his nightstand, and a note written in himeko's neat handwriting - though he actually spots and reads it some time later - telling him to rest as much as he needs to, because she'll take care of everything; and only after he does read it and feels a sense of relief come over him, he realizes how much the thought of having to leave all the work in order to take a break actually stressed him out. he still feels bad about it, because of course he does, and of course he's going to apologize to everyone later.

but he's also able to sleep more peacefully now.

#whump #whump writing #welt yang #honkai star rail #hsr #rambles #hsr headcanons #headcanon #stelle #march 7th #dan heng #ig these three are here for a bit! #sickfic #angst? #hurt/comfort #i guess #himeko #dim writing ☁️

[flamebringer0]

About the Ending of Darkness of Dragons

Everyone has a take about this, right? Well, here's mine. I'm kind of late to the party since I was forcibly inducted into the Wings of Fire fandom just last Thursday, but that's fine. This will probably be kind of long and rambling and maybe not even that interesting to anyone but me. Sorry about that, but I'm really writing it more to work through my thoughts than anything else.

I find Darkstalker to be a very compelling character. I'm not going to bother trying to explain why I find him interesting, because it's irrelevant and would also be longer than this entire post. I feel like I have to clarify, though, that it's not because I think he's a good guy. He's obviously a pretty awful guy. I mean, I thought it was obvious, but I guess there's actually a significant contingent of people who say Darkstalker did nothing wrong. Apparently many people see him as some kind of misunderstood heroic figure, or at least a morally gray one. I find that to be a fully silly and indefensible position. You can talk all day about how abusive Arctic was, but you can't pile a tower of mitigating circumstances high enough to explain away genocide.

Anyway, he's my favorite character in Wings of Fire. He's one of my favorite characters period. And I really would have liked it if my favorite character had had a satisfying narrative arc, with a climax that appropriately, uh... that is to say, a climax that was appropriate in any way. For example, it would have been pretty good if Kinkajou had killed him.

But in fact she did not kill him; she forcibly polymorphed him into a baby. As noted by everyone who has ever read the books, this is a stunningly odd thing to have your hero do at the end of a quintet of novels whose most consistent theme is that it's wrong to force someone to be something they aren't. I'm sure this is well-trodden ground at this point, but I just-- I can't figure it out. The narrative is very clear up until this point that this is a very bad thing to do. In fact, I think mind controlling someone is all-but-explicitly presented by the books as a worse thing to do than killing them. That's probably a questionable position in and of itself, but I swear it is the position taken by the text.

In Moon Rising, Moonwatcher finds out that Darkstalker killed Arctic, and she's still willing to hear him out about how that might have been justified and maybe it would be fine to let him out of the ground. But in Escaping Peril she finds out he also mind controlled Arctic, and her reaction is much more severe. She's in tears, she declares it "the cruelest thing I’ve ever read", and she decides she can never let him out. Nothing else has changed about Moon's knowledge of Darkstalker and Arctic's relationship; the only new information she has is that Darkstalker used mind control. The narrative never seems to treat this like a contradiction or a weird quirk of Moon's personality, so I think it's a belief the author also holds coming through in her writing. Mind control is worse than killing. And then suddenly it isn't, and erasing Darkstalker's mind and turning him into an entirely different dragon is presented as a happy ending for everyone, including Darkstalker.

The only explanation I can come up with for this is that she wrote herself into a corner by making her villain omnipotent and invincible, and therefore impossible to stop without comprehensively incapacitating him. I surmise that the only way she could come up with to do that was to turn him into someone else, and so that's what she had to have happen, even though it clashed violently with the theme. But I have a better idea: just kill him. He's terrible! He deserves it!! It would have been satisfying to see him die after everything he did, and it wouldn't have dropped this bizarre dissonant note at the end of five books of consistent messaging.

It turns out the difficult part there is actually the "he deserves it" bit. Because, astonishingly, it seems the author of Wings of Fire is also in the category of people who think Darkstalker wasn't so bad after all. Apparently, Tui T Sutherland said at a release event for The Lost Continent, "I didn’t want to kill Darkstalker, because he didn’t deserve it [...]". This is a very interesting way to put it. She didn't say that nobody deserves to be killed. Apparently there's some bar he could have cleared to deserve death, and he didn't. But what can one actually do to merit death if genocide isn't enough? Well... I just don't know. I wasn't hatched in the light of a full moon, so I can't read her mind and tell you the answer. I'm just going to have to move on. Here's the full quote I excerpted above, along with the question that prompted it:

There is a theme across Arc 2 of Wings of Fire that seems to suggest forcing dragons to become something else via magic is wrong (Peril, Hailstorm/Pyrite, Anemone forcing Kinkajou to love Turtle, etc). However, the second arc ended with Kinkajou forcing Darkstalker to become Peacemaker against his will. How did you feel about writing that, since it seems to clash with your theme? I didn’t want to kill Darkstalker, because he didn’t deserve it and that felt like a cop out (plus, it was supposed to be impossible). I wanted a surprising and authentic end for these characters. One of the main themes I wanted to emphasize was that most dragons, like Peril, deserve a second chance at becoming a better dragon. Darkstalker needed to have everything erased in order to get that second chance. I did think a lot about how the theme was subverted by this ending though, and it’s very valid to be concerned about that. But, there was no other way to ‘save’ him.

(source)

There's something else that's weird to me about this quote, which is... do we really think that what happened to Darkstalker was not death? His mind was completely and permanently wiped by magic. He had "everything erased", word of god. Peacemaker apparently doesn't share any of Darkstalker's memories, personality, feelings or opinions. In what sense is Darkstalker not dead, then? Is it his soul? Whenever the word soul comes up in Wings of Fire it seems to be metaphorical. It's not clear that Darkstalker had a soul in a literal sense, let alone that Kinkajou didn't erase that too. Animus magic is apparently of infinite power, there's no reason to think it can't rewrite someone's soul. I guess his body still exists, sort of, but if that's enough to say that Darkstalker is still around, I think you could make a pretty strong argument that anyone who has ever eaten a steak is in fact a cow.

I think this gets at the heart of what bothers me so much about the ending. Darkstalker... actually did die, just like I wanted him to. Which is fine, actually. Contrary to what the author thinks, he completely deserved it. But what makes it ridiculous and unsatisfying is that it happens via this weird magical get out of jail free card where they kill him without "killing" him. Aren't there moral complexities to killing someone, no matter how much they deserve it or how much better it makes everything? Shouldn't we... talk about that? Well, apparently we don't need to talk about it, or think about it. We can just use magic to change the name of what we're doing away from "killing", without substantially changing its nature.

And it drives me even crazier that the more I think about it, even this nonsensical juke of an ending feels so ripe with interesting questions of its own, which are just glossed over. Isn't it interesting that Moon killed her first friend, that Hope killed her own son, and that neither of them ever have to face the fact that that's what they did? Do they even know? Do they suspect it? Isn't it interesting that Peacemaker came into the world as some kind of magical quasi-dragon whose only reason to exist is to make sure someone else can't? Did anyone stop to think what it would be like for him to grow up like that? How will he deal with the fact that he's surrounded by dragons who half think that one day he might pull off his face and let Darkstalker out again? Does Darkstalker still have loyalists who want that to happen? Wouldn't it be interesting to hear Hailstorm's thoughts on this? What about Ruby's? Fierceteeth's? Isn't it interesting that Darkstalker sat under the mountain trying to convince Qibli that it was better to use magic to change a dragon against their will than to kill them, and Qibli said "no, no, no" and then turned around and did just that? How would Winter feel about the fact that after he bared his heart to Qibli and Moon about how awful it was to ever do something like that, they did it without a second thought? How can they call themselves Winter's friends while they're keeping something like that from him??

Maybe I'm the only one who thinks those are interesting questions. Tui T Sutherland certainly doesn't seem to. It would seem that she wants us to believe that Darkstalker is now going to have a wonderful life in the rainforest as Peacemaker, magically shorn of everything that makes him himself. And that's good, because Darkstalker can be forgiven for committing genocide, and so he didn't actually deserve to die. He just deserved to have his entire self obliterated by infinite magic, which is different from dying. Different in a way that was all-but-explicitly stated to be worse, until it was better. And this will never cause any problems for anyone.

I don't know what else to say. It almost makes me dizzy to think about it. I wish I knew how to write this story.

#this one isn't really a headcanon #not sure what else to tag it though #wings of fire #wof #wof darkstalker #darkstalker #wof peacemaker #peacemaker

[amazingmsme]

A Gift, No Strings Attached

AN: Tickletober is finally upon us! I'm so excited for this, I can't wait to see what everyone makes! Hope you all enjoy day 1: anticipation with Miguel & Peter B! Everyone seems to think a certain spiderman needs to be introduced to a certain belt, as seen in episode 17.

Miguel was a skeptical person on the best of days, so when Peter B. waltzed into his office declaring he had "got him something," he was rightfully wary. Peter hopped up on the platform as it lowered, seemingly too impatient to wait for it to lower fully.

"MJ and I went to the mall yesterday, and when I saw this I just knew it had your name all over it," he rambled before Miguel could question him. He had a small shopping back hanging off his arm and Miguel resigned himself with a sigh.

"Oh yeah? What is it?" he asked, deciding to play along.

"It's a utility belt!" Peter exclaimed, feeling only a little disappointed when he didn't share his enthusiasm. He just stared at him, a single brow raised.

"Y-you know, for tools and stuff! Thought you'd appreciate something useful," he felt the need to explain himself, growing more nervous by the second. Maybe Miguel saw through the act, or maybe he hated belts, or maybe-

"Wow, uh, thanks. This'll actually come in handy," he said, accepting the offered gift. Or maybe he wouldn't suspect a thing.

Peter hadn't expected this to be so easy.

While he really had gone to the mall with MJ, that wasn't where he got the belt. He had been watching tv with Mayday when the villain escaped from his frozen prison, now capturing his attention as well as his daughter's. He was sure that SpongeBob and Patrick would be in deep for letting the worst villain escape, chuckling when they resorted to "rehabilitating" him instead. His interest was piqued when they activated the character's iconic belt, sending him into a fit of ticklish laughter.

"Heh, Miguel could use a belt like that, huh Mayday?" he cooed before gasping at the revelation he just made. He set her in her baby jumper in front of the screen, leaving her to bounce and giggle to her heart's content. He left the door to his office open so he could still keep an eye on her as he began to draft the blueprints for Miguel's "gift."

A week later, it was finished. And of course he had to run a few tests, curtesy of his loving and very patient wife. Though when she found out who it was for, she didn't really mind testing it out, especially seeing as she always got her revenge.

Peter wanted nothing more than to activate the belt right then and there, but in a monumental show of self restraint, he held back. If he did this now, then only he would get to see the outcome, and this was too good to keep for himself. Unfortunately, he would have to be patient. Wait it out for the perfect moment to present itself.

Honestly, Peter didn't expect anyone else to know what it was supposed to be. Clearly, his universe wasn't the only one with SpongeBob.

"Gonna go out on a limb an' say he has no idea what that belt really is. Right?" Hobie questioned from behind. Peter jumped, not because he didn't know he was there, (spidey senses and all) but because of what he had said.

"I-I have no idea what you're talking about!" he bluffed, but crumbled when Hobie leveled him with a knowing look, cocking an eyebrow in mild amusement. "Okay yes, it is what you think it is, and hell no he doesn't know, are you crazy? You think I'd be standing here talking about it if he did?"

Hobie shook his head with a slight chuckle. "I doubt you'd even be breathin' mate," he teased, playfully smacking him on the back. Peter let out a slightly nervous laugh.

"Heh, yeah me either. He'd probably superglue the damn thing to my suit if he knew," he joked.

"Yeah well, keep me posted. I wanna know the second you plan on using it," he said, saluting him as he left the room.

Hobie made sure to spread the word to his friends, swearing them all to secrecy in the hopes that they could be lucky enough to witness Miguel's giggly downfall.

Too bad Miles was out sick and didn't get the memo.

He was back at the Spider-Society, catching up with his friends in the cafeteria when Miguel spotted them and decided to check in.

"Miles, glad to see you back," he greeted with a nod. "How're you feeling?"

"Oh, hey! I'm glad to be back sir," he replied, still unable to shake the urge to keep things formal between them. "B-but I'm feeling good! Much better now," he assured. He looked down at the burger in his hands, ready to take a bite when a new accessory caught his eye. He froze just as he brought it to his mouth.

"I've told you, just Miguel is fine," he assured, a soft smile gracing his features. He noticed Miles's gaping mouth and wide eyes, looking him over with a puzzled expression. "You uh, you sure you're okay?" he asked just to double check.

Miles shook himself out of it and nodded. "Yup! Never better!" Gwen shot him a look from across the table, undoubtedly wondering what had him acting so weird. She followed his line of sight and things suddenly fell into place. She locked eyes with Hobie, sharing a subtle nod as Miles continued on, "But is that a new belt? I don't think I've seen you wear it before..."

"Oh yeah, Peter gave it to me. Said he wanted to give me something useful for once," he explained, and it all suddenly clicked for Miles. "It's a nice change of pace from all the useless knickknacks. Don't get me wrong, they're fine in small doses but he seriously overestimates how much free space I have," he said, but Miles wasn't paying attention. "To be honest, I'm just glad he picked something that matches my suit."

"Heh, yeah. 'Cause that's the worst that could happen- ow." Miles wasn't sure who kicked him, but judging by all of their looks, he was clearly out of the loop on something.

"Riiiight," Miguel said, noticing how weird they were all of a sudden. "Well, you know where to find me," he said and walked off. Miles waited until he was out of the cafeteria to speak because you could never be too careful where Miguel's concerned.

"So were you guys just not gonna tell me Miguel got a tickle belt?" he blurted out as soon as he deemed safe.

"We were going to! We just... forgot," Pavitr said, a shy smirk tugging at his lips.

Miles scoffed, "You don't just forget something like that!"

"I was gonna tell you as soon as I saw you, but then we were on a mission and it really wasn't a good time, and I did forget to tell you. Sorry about that," Gwen explained.

"Nah it's cool. I just can't believe he's still wearing it," he said in awe.

"Oh he doesn't know," Gwen said, causing Miles to whip around to look at her.

"What?"

"Peter hasn't used it yet. Figured he was waitin' on you or somethin'," Hobie said, dipping a fry in ketchup.

"Wait so you guys haven't said anything to try and warn him?" he asked, a little shocked. He was met with a chorus of no's and furious head shakes.

"And ruin the fun? As if!" Pavitr exclaimed, appalled that Miles would even suggest such a thing.

"Look, Miguel is the fiercest, most stoic spider in all of HQ, and he's chewed my ass out more times than I can count. I can't wait to see what happens when he's trying to choke back laughter and you sure as hell aren't gonna ruin it for me, got it?" Hobie said, pointing a threatening finger in his face. Miles nodded.

"I won't! I won't!" he promised, hands held up in surrender.

"Good. 'Cause I honestly don't know why you'd wanna help the bastard," he teased, grabbing him in a headlock and giving him a noogie. Miles laughed, shoving him off and punching his arm.

After lunch, Miles immediately set out to find Peter. It didn't take long until he bumped into him.

"Miguel is gonna kill you," he said in way of a greeting. Peter spun around in a panic

"What? I didn't even do anything!" he froze upon seeing Miles and relaxed. "Oh, I'm guessing you saw the belt," he said nonchalantly.

"Uh, yeah! Are you crazy? I was serious, he's gonna kill you!"

Peter waved him off. "I appreciate the concern, but I'll be fine. Worst that'll happen, he'll tickle the shit outta me. But I'll avoid it as long as I can. Trust me, I've weighed my options and it's worth it to see the look in his face," he rambled, falling into step with Miles. He shook his head in amusement.

"You won't be acting so cool when he gets after you," he gave a playful warning.

Peter laughed nervously. "Hey, why do you think I haven't tested it out yet?" He smiled to himself, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Honestly, you all act like I don't already know I'm a dead man walking."

"So... why'd you do it?" Miles asked, genuinely curious. Peter shrugged.

"Eh, it was kinda a spur of the moment type thing. If I remember correctly, he kinda snapped at me for wasting his time, and I was a little ticked off, I'll be honest. Got the idea while watching tv with Mayday when I got home."

"SpongeBob?"

"Yeah."

"Nice."

"I guess I just thought he could use one, y'know?"

"Oh, you're absolutely right with that one," Miles agreed with a chuckle. "So, when do you think you'll try it out?" he asked eagerly.

"Well, I've kinda been waiting for him to piss me off again. I think that's when I'd get the most satisfaction," he decided.

All in all, it didn't take long for the man to get on his nerves. Ha, and Miguel said that he was the annoying one.

He was in one of the many break areas, letting Mayday crawl around with Pav, Miles, Gwen and Hobie. She really liked getting to see them, and they loved playing with her, so it was a win win. It gave Peter a chance to let his guard down, thankful for the extra sets of eyes watching over his daughter. It also gave him the chance to get a plethora of new adorable videos of the light of his life.

Miguel however, thought it fit to hunt him down and interrupt his break. (Yes, he knew it was going on three hours, but Miguel was trying to get him to file paperwork! He couldn't let that happen!)

"Peter, there you are." His voice alone made Peter groan. "Where the hell have you been? You went on lunch hours ago, you said you'd do that paperwork."

"Actually, I never said I'd do it. You told me to do it," he corrected. Miguel rolled his eyes.

"Whatever, it's the same thing." Peter muttered under his breath something along the lines of "no it's not." Miguel cocked his head to look at him, "What was that?"

"Oh nothing," Peter said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out an innocuous remote. He started fiddling with it, and the teens started whispering amongst themselves. Nothing super obvious, they didn't want to give themselves away.

"Just drop her off at the daycare when you're ready, you work better when you're not attached at the hip," Miguel said sternly before turning to walk away. Peter scoffed at the notion, clicking a button and cranking a dial. He stopped in his tracks, squirming where he stood and rubbing his waist in confusion. Peter smirked and turned it up, causing Miguel to double over and bark out a laugh.

He turned around, fighting off giggles as he leaned on the wall for support. He glared them all down, though the wide smile and deep chuckles that slipped out really diminished the effect. "W-whahat the hehehell is going ohohon? Ihihi know you guys hahave something to do with it," he accused through grit teeth, unable to contain his giggles as he twisted back and forth, knees buckling as he wrapped his arms around his waist, allowing himself to laugh freely.

This was what they'd all been waiting for. Phones were taking videos and snapping pictures all while Miguel cursed and writhed on the floor, tugging at his suit and the belt, unable to get it off. The wait had well been worth it. Even better, the only one to suffer any subsequent consequences was Peter.

#tickletober #tickletober 2023 #tickletober day 1 #miguel o'hara #peter b parker #hobie brown #miles morales #gwen stacy #pavitr prabhakar #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv fic #spiderman atsv tickle fic #ticklish!miguel

[teabutmakeitazure]

Ahh thank you for answering!Take as much time as you need<3

I loved the way you wrote for Pierro so :3

“Why do you care?"(Pierro)

This can be read as a continuation to this post

The sound of Pierro's heels clicking against the polished floor floods the hallway. His only comrade is the dread of facing you again, the last encounter having ended at your demand of seeing Teyvat.

He had left almost immediately after the argument. Perhaps Pierro thought that being engulfed in his work would bring about a feeling of peace, but all it did was irritate the harbinger further. This is for your own good, he thinks.

A door, tall and imposing, separates him from you, the hallway from the bedroom. Even reaching for the doorknob is painful, for he knows what's going to come next.

Tears. That is what he is greeted with.

They swiftly run down your cheeks, and Pierro finds his heart shrinking painfully at the sight. The room is cold, and you are seated on the chair by the window in nothing but a dainty nightgown. You must be cold, so he immediately sheds off his coat and places it over your shoulders.

No reaction. Sniffles continue as he seats himself opposite to you. A table is in between you both, and Pierro finds the setting to be akin to an interrogation so he drags the chair to your side and then sits.

Again, you refuse to give a reaction. Your eyes longingly gaze outside the window, watching the snowy terrain as more snow falls. Pierro finds the silence agonising. There is no crackling fireplace and no incessant rambling from your side.

If he hadn't known any better, he would believe that you are cross. However, he realises that what you feel is disappointment and he is fully prepared to rectify it. A hand is placed on your own before he speaks, but before the latter can occur, you've shrugged it off and shrinked into yourself.

Ah. So you're not willing to talk? Well that is certainly going to pose a problem. Your tantrums usually start with him receiving the silent treatment, followed by you making yourself scarce by locking yourself in the study which is succeeded by your outburst of fury where you remind Pierro of just how much destruction lies beneath your skin.

He thought he had quelled it long ago, but it sometimes resurfaces as a taunt to his inabilities.

A hand, warm and reassuring, places itself on your shoulder. Any attempt to shrug it off if unsuccessful for Pierro is unwilling to let go this time. Your malicious gaze pierces through him, but he remains firm.

"Get your hand off of me," you seethe.

Pierro merely shakes his head. "I would appreciate it if you spoke to me. Acting like a child and throwing tantrums is beneath you, my dear."

"Why do you care? Your only concern is this snowy land called Snezhnaya. Nothing else."

Pierro thinks he saw a spark in your eyes again, and before he could even conjure up a response for your little jab, he finds himself wanting to soothe you instead.

"My concern is you," he whispers as though revealing a secret. "I have many things to deal with, but you, my dear, come first."

The spark in your eyes dies out and is replaced by a bottomless pit devoid of any emotion. "I only wish you had thought of that before chaining me to you. Had you really loved me, you would never have been so selfish."

To substitute for a lack of words, Pierro chooses action and moves to cup your cheek. However, this act is seen as belittlement in your eyes, and you swiftly get up and leave the room.

As Pierro mentally prepares himself for the fire damage that will inevitably occur, one thought constantly eats away his mind. Why can he not win you over even after centuries?

#genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #yandere genshin x reader #pierro x reader #yandere pierro #yandere pierro x reader

[yaoiconnoisseur]

♠ Knight of Spades - Mari ♠

〈 Protector of Innocence 〉

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Ahhh I finally get to post this :D It was an honor to be able to contribute to the amazing project that is Yuri!!! On Cards from the Yuri!!! On The Web Discord server!

You can see the entire project via this masterpost! If you'd like more context for this gigantic YOI AU, head over to this blog post for an explanation of everything.

I'd like to give a massive shoutout to @arom-antix and @lines-on-ice for basically putting this all together and making this amazing idea a reality. I know Arrow credits me as one of the admins of this project, but I really only made a Google Drive and did a little research for the artists on how to format their cards haha

I had a ton of fun coming up with Mari's design as the Knight of Spades. I knew right away that I wanted Mari's design to reflect her Japanese heritage since the suit of Spades is a fully Japanese cast.

I've cut me talking about the art itself and my thought process while working on it so I don't nuke your dash, but if you'd like to read my ramblings feel free to

Making Mari a samurai was an easy choice since, one, that's basically what a knight was in Japan (albeit there was no legal binding between a daimyo and his samurai), and, two, I've always HC'd Mari as a protective older sister in the sense she'd be fairly hands off until someone made the mistake of bullying her little Yuuri.

I wanted her armor to be blue since that was the overarching color scheme for Spades, but choosing what blues to use was.. Difficult. There needed to be enough contrast between the different pieces of her armor to show that the armor is made of multiple parts while keeping the hues and brightness values close enough to still look cohesive. I also wanted to keep the blues relatively low saturated to bring our Mari's blonde highlights.

(As I was coloring her armor I realized half way through that I basically drew a Samurott ginjinka oops (￣▽￣*)ゞ)

I had originally intended for the sarashi (the belt) to be pure white, however when I put all the base colors down I realized the white was too much and pulled your eyes away from Mari's overall form. I knew having the belt be pure blue would make the belt blend in too much with the rest of the armor, so I ended up making the belt mostly blue with white accents as a compromise. I still wish the belt could have been white, but oh well.

As for the katana.. That was originally going to be pure blue, but like the belt problem, I had issues keeping the katana from looking muddied. I ended up trying five different variations of black/dark gray until I settled on what you see above lol. It was really difficult making the hilt of the katana look nice because if I went too dark with the blacks I would lose detail on the hilt, but if I went too light I would lose the contrast with the hilt's blues. As for the saya (scabbard/sheathe) I wanted it to be black, but I ended up matching it to Mari's armor instead because a black saya with a mostly black hilt somehow made the entire katana look flat.

The color palates I used for everything else was just me eyeballing her fleshtone and hair color through various screenshots I ripped directly from the show.

The background gave the the most trouble out of everything though because I'm not particularly great at making interesting, minimalistic backgrounds for my art. The card looked to plain without some sort of variation of color behind Mari, but since her armor was already so complex I needed a background that didn't take away from those complexities and didn't muddy the entire piece. I had originally planned to do a sumi-e type background, however I found that no matter what I did the sumi-e designs took away focus from Mari. Eventually I settled on a default abstract Procreate brush and drew lines until something stuck.

Overall I had a blast making this and also the borders for the rest of the cards! I learned a lot about how to format and prep digital canvases for making a card deck, too lol

#eeeeee im so happy about how this whole project turned out #i hope you all enjoy :> #yoi #yuri on ice #yuri!!! on ice #mari katsuki #katsuki mari #yoi fanart #yuri on ice fanart #yuri on ice!!! fanart #katsuki #digital art #art #my art

[fierrochase-falafel]

A moment later, it was dead silent within the darkness, and Xie Lian repeated with certainty, “You are the Crown Prince of Wuyong.”

Finally, White No-Face was no longer silent.

He lunged towards Xie Lian, his palm blasts sharp and powerful, and this time, it was Xie Lian’s turn to dodge. He leapt up, and asked as he dodged, “Your Highness, I’ve got a question for you. How come you never show your true face to anyone?”

White No-Face said darkly, “Your Highness, I’m warning you not to address me with that title.”

“You call me ‘Your Highness’, so why can’t I address you the same?” Xie Lian rebuked. “You won’t answer, so I’ll have to guess myself. There are only two reasons why you don’t want anyone seeing your true face. Either you are someone I know, or someone I don’t know, but once I see your real face I could easily figure out who you are. Or, your true appearance is exceedingly ugly, so ugly you can’t stand it yourself!”

Warning for major spoilers in this post! We're back with post 10 of Xie Lian being the funniest mf when he confronts White No-Face at the beginning of book 5, and if there's 1 thing I love, it's a good "fun mocking ramble while dodging an angry loser".

I think it's really interesting how book 4 ends after so much pain, so much...eventfulness of Bai Wuxiang. The impression you're left with of him is that he is powerful and dangerous even though Xie Lian rejects his philosophy and shows huge personal growth. We grow to really respect Xie Lian's character development without losing that fearful reverence for Bai Wuxiang. Book 5 though, from the get-go, is set on tearing down Bai Wuxiang's terrifying reputation built up over 4 books. At the end of book 3, Xie Lian is absolutely terrified at the sight of the cry-smiling mask, but the minute we get back to the present-time, Xie Lian gets over his terror pretty fast and just lies on the floor pretending Bai Wuxiang doesn't exist. In the first chapter of book 5 itself, Xie Lian gets to expose his former crown princehood- and when he literally just addresses Bai Wuxiang by the same title as Bai Wuxiang does for him, the guy loses it! Like...for such a powerful man, you can't help but feel how much he's being undermined here. He's always had the upper hand over Xie Lian and here they are, in his territory the Kiln, and his control over Xie Lian has somehow decreased in comparison to all their prior encounters!

It's a culmination of Xie Lian choosing to grow and make peace with his own former insecurities (unlike a certain other white-clothed calamity) and the power of hualian being in gay love that bring this about, I feel. That's what really gets the edge over Bai Wuxiang. Because it was 1 thing when Xie Lian went on with his life still terrified of Bai Wuxiang, having changed and grown and become stronger but scared of what Bai Wuxiang represents as to who he could be- who he WAS. Before he met Hua Cheng, Xie Lian was alone and unlucky and nobody cared for him in any way, and he was cool with assuming he didn't deserve to be cared for because of his actions. Hua Cheng's devotion to him is perhaps the 1 thing that makes him feel that he is worth more, that he doesn't have to atone the way he's been trying to and that he IS better than Bai Wuxiang.

In book 3, Hua Cheng says, "I can swear, you are you. You're not anyone else." Even if Xie Lian may not fully believe Hua Cheng when he reiterates that they are different people, Hua Cheng still goes out of his way to stress that Xie Lian is a person who himself is worth it. If Hua Cheng really sees that in him, maybe he is different to the Crown Prince of Wuyong in the ways that matter after all. So when he's having the same mask pressed onto him by White No-Face, it doesn't make a difference! He doesn't lose his mind in any way, and says all of this to White No-Face WHILE the mask is being forced on him (remember how the mask in book 4 correlated consistently with Xie Lian's worst days, like appearing on him right when he decided to genocide Yong'an? Xie Lian changes this and takes control of the mask!).

He, in the cry-smiling mask, is able to turn the tables on Bai Wuxiang because he is actively different to him, and he KNOWS it. Hua Cheng makes sure he knows it when he doubts himself, giving Xie Lian the confidence he needs to finally emotionally overcome Bai Wuxiang (the same way he gives Xie Lian the spiritual power needed to break his shackles! perfect symbolism). This is the ultimate win I feel Xie Lian gets over him, because of both himself and Hua Cheng! The rest of the book is Xie Lian solidifying this win over a man who keeps being subverted, keeps being confounded ever since book 4 by Xie Lian's refusal to do what he did.

Further point I would like to make about Xie Lian calling Bai Wuxiang potentially really ugly- which, A) Burn?!?!?! And B, got me thinking that him reacting so violently to that is also kind-of a sign of him having not made peace with his former Crown Prince-hood. I'm sure he was praised for being handsome as a Crown Prince the way Xie Lian was, and never got over the fact that he fell so far from his once glorious status. The idea of being ugly under the mask now makes him feel even more defensive of his own failings and the idea that under the mask, internally, he might not be as good/right as he wanted to be and that this is his own fault- because Xie Lian doesn't wear a mask, doesn't care about being called ugly because something so shallow (even though it's perfectly valid to care about your appearance at all) makes no huge difference to his self-perception. He's just doing his best out here no matter what. By choice. Jun Wu could've had that, but he chose not to out of self-pity eclipsing his desire to be, in some sense of the word, a good person, and it kills him to know that.

I think the fact that this 1 funny exchange actually reveals an awful lot about the characters really says something about the quality of MXTX's narrative placement as well as intricacies in dialogue that make reading TGCF so...beautiful.

#xie lian #tgcf #xie lian being the funniest mf I take no criticism #analysis time by me so I can track them in my tags #hualian #hua cheng #jun wu #bai wuxiang #white no face #tgcf book 5 #tgcf meta #tgcf book 4 #posts originating from my brain

[rebloggedsunsox]

HOLD IT!!!

SPOILERS FOR THE FNAF MOVIE UNDER THE CUT!!! PLEASE GO WATCH THE MOVIE IF YOU HAVEN'T AND WANT TO BEFORE READING!! This is your given warning!

Thoughts I'm scrambling together as fast as I can just off the top of my head. Im back from the cinemas, and I first off can't say anything other than wow.

~

That post I made earlier about waiting a week to talk about it? I lied I'm talking now I can't not talk about it I can't wait the brainrot is far too strong LMAO so heres my ramble.

• The movie actually didn't feel out of place or too mashed together with series and new content at all. Some choices were definitely confusing from a game and lore background knowledge standpoint, but in its own universe and continuity it didn't hinder the overall quality of the movie. Still an extremely enjoyable time that didn't leave me frustrated or unsatisfied! And s big mention also to the fact that I went to see it with 2 friends - one who knew the lore like me, and one who didn't. The latter loved it as much as the former and I, no problems in understanding either! Lots of questions on what we knew afterwards, but no complaints all around!

• I think it's really good that they blatantly established that the animatronics, as kids and not when they were controlled by Afton, were just that: kids. They liked pictures and play and never wanted to hurt their new friend Abby. Golden Freddy is definitely a seperate problem that I'll get into, but they were all so cute together it warmed my heart so much :']]

• Mike was played very well by his actor (except for that one scene with Vanessa and the dry delivered "What are you scared of?" line), and I did grow to enjoy his character in the end. Definitely took me a while to get there though. I don't think his emotional connection with Abby was established very well in the beginning, but I think it was still remedied enough to be satisfying after everything had happened.

• The Balloon Boy bit was hilarious. He absolutely is that goddamn creepy, and they somehow MADE HIM CREEPIER in the film! I'm glad that he didn't end up posing an actual threat and stamping over the terror of the main 5, but I was definitely considering it in the back of my mind.

• Wow. Golden Freddy was intense. All the way through. From the phenomenal work of the child actor who played him throughout most of the movie, to the TERRIFYING animatronic who made its mark without even being in the movie that long? Wow. I'm definitely still confused about where the movie was trying to take the plot point of Golden Freddy's existence since a lot was left out and not really explained, but again, overall didn't make understanding the movie much harder. Just leaves me curious as to why they went with what they did. That scene at the very very end of Golden Freddy closing the door on Afton convulsing in the back room? Chilling. That actor played the part perfectly.

• CAMEOS!!!! Claps and cheers for Cory and the very brief Employees cameo! My theatre erupted into screams so loud that when MatPat was on screen in the diner, I kid you not I have 0 idea what he even said. Gonna have to rewatch it and see for myself. My friend who had no idea who he was got jumpscared by the theatre crowd itself and it was very, very funny.

• THE SONG!!! THE song for the end credits!!!! I broke out into singing so fast man, literally the best feeling and a wonderful way to bring the movie home right back to those who had been waiting for it for so long.

• The animatronics were incredible. Just amazing. All practical effects, fully built they were for most of that, right? Regardless, they really took my breath away in that movie. From their movements to expressions to their funny "haha uhoh robot moment" scenes. So so awesome.

• Vanessa's whole deal was probably where I was left the most confused. My whole crowd audibly gasped when she outright said that William was her father. So, the problem that I came to was,,,, basically all of it. Vanessa was told, by Afton, to make sure that Mike never found out what was happening at the pizzeria and to kill him if he got to close. Why hire him there then? Because he wanted to kill him himself? In order to get him to take Abby there to kill her? But non of that would have been something he was going to make happen if not by chance like how it did! She had no problem with Abby being there and playing with the animatronics one moment, and then made Mike ensure she was never going back the next. And the whole "I wont be much use to you if I go with you" said by Vanessa. I was assuming it was a Vanny mind control type sitch, but literally nothing happened? They argued, she shot him, he strangled her, he stabbed her, basically end of confrontation between them. She didn't do anything to hurt Abby or Mike at all? And her somehow knowing about Mike believing his dreams could change the past. Her connection was to Afton, not really the kids, right? Someone please tell me how they interpreted that whole thing, I really couldn't nail it down. Again, weirdly didn't damage my experience much? I guess I'm just used to some things not being understandable within the fnaf lore, huh. Im also just not hugely invested in Vanny/Vanessa's deal in the games either, so maybe that's why lol.

• Abby handing Bonnie the heart, and then Bonnie showing it to the others was the single sweetest thing oh my god. So adorable.

• It's me on the mirror. Glitching in the training video to show Golden Freddy. Mwah chef's kiss. Don't really know how the Its Me bit ties into this version of the lore but I really don't mind. The callouts made me giggle.

• That whole scene with the men trashing the place and getting murdered was madness. The tension was so thick, I love the atmosphere and how they really nailed it where it mattered in that part of the movie. The girl(Max?) Getting literally chomped in half was so unexpected. Poor Max, I can't believe she got roped into it. Also the???? Auntie said nothing about the disappearance of any of them either??? What???? Im only just realising that???? Why was she at all those court discussions with the lawyer again????

• No Honk Freddy's Nose bit. How dare they.

I'm gonna be thinking about this a lot, but thats all the points I have to make right now! I'll definitely comb over all my thoughts again, maybe post about them some more, we'll see. Really good all round, can't wait to watch it again when I get my hands on a copy of it!!! Id love to hear everyone elses thoughts on it too, and the possibility of a sequel? Thank you for reading!!

#everyone loved my cosplay I went in! I went as Bonnie in a human outfit wig and cardboard made Bonnie ears and everyone was really lovely #me and the only other person in costume (young kid in a fully decked out freddy getup) complimented each other and that was so sweet too <3 #FNAF #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #fnaf movie spoilers #five nights at freddy's movie spoilers #we're tagging everything man I hope everyone who's going spoiler free has these blocked #sox speaks #if you also needed the disclaimer these are just my personal intial thoughts. if you dont like them all you gotta do is scroll on by bud :]

[abitofafreudmoment]

HELLO IRL FRIEND OF NICO

i have noticed that you are into discworld and would like to hear more about it bc i am interested in reading it but am incapable of getting into anything unless it's been hyped up to me enough and you seem like you'd be willing to ramble lovingly about this series so uhh. favorite characters? what's it about? themes? fun tidbits?

(no pressure though and sorry if this is a weird way to introduce myself hi im luce)

lol no worries Luce! yes I'm very happy to ramble for you. (post-writing here, this is so all over the place sorry for like not sticking to one area but hey it's defos a loving ramble - kinda just talked about vague stuff, but I can 100% go into specifics).

So. . . where do I begin?

40 books in the series, he wrote right up until his death. NOT a continuous plotline through all 40. In fact, I recommend not starting with the first one (two actually)as it's not spectacular (that being said, it is still worth reading once you're in the series, good for the overall worldbuilding if memory serves). below is a sorta ok guide to how they connect - I have my issues with it but it's the best I've found.

I wouldn't recommend starting with Sourcery, but that's cuz Rincewind isn't my favorite character - I'd start with either equal rites or Lords and Ladies or Mort or The Truth or The Fifth Elephant or just wherever really as long as it isn't the Colour of Magic or the Light Fantastic.

A few crucial ordering things - READ THUD AND SNUFF (and ig Making Money and Going Postal) BEFORE RAISING STEAM. READ THIEF OF TIME BEFORE NIGHT WATCH. Those are the really imperative ones that you gotta order right, generally do it vaguely chronologically and yeah. Have at it.

The Hedgehog Song - this is a tidbit that shows up a lot in the Witches books as a very rude song that Nanny Ogg sings, BUT WE NEVER GET THE WORDS and I so want them.

Because it was written over 32 years, there are so many characters that just like slowly worm their way into it and I love watching a character turn from like a single footnote into a fully-fledged, important-to-the-plot character (I'm looking at YOU, Cassanunda)

SPEAKING OF FOOTNOTES OMG the books are riddled with them and. . . chef's kiss they add So Much to the series. They're so funny.

Pratchett is actually just like so funny as an author in general, but wittily so. Not saying he does pure comedy - he doesn't. Many a time have I cried over a Pratchett book. He's also great at taking stuff and . . . twisting it ig into something brilliantly new - Take, for instance, Maskerade, which is the Phantom of the Opera but Pratchettifyed (New word! yay! I'll be using it a lot I'm sure.). or like just what he does with Fairy Tales in general (Witches Abroad, Lords and Ladies sorta)

Also his MAGIC omg - soft magic system done right. I also love like the different approaches to magic that the witches and wizard have to it. Also how like the Creatures from the Dungeon Dimensions get [spoilers removed]

The gods man. Love them. They exist, they feed off of raw belief (Small Gods' premise is that people start believing in the institution formed around a god as opposed to the god itself and then that god like almost dies cuz no-one believes in him. (surprise surprise it's a commentary on the Church)) and they play games with the lives of men (the Last Hero). Love Granny Weatherwax's opinion on them which goes smthn like this: "No use believin' in 'em, it only serves to encourage 'em." <-- As a concept belief is not simply tied to the gods either. He does a lot of stuff about how what people believe to be true can affect how they perceive things around them.

THE FOOLS. Pratchett understood the tragedy of clowns and as such his fools are so insanely sad - the Fools' Guild is the least happy of all the guilds. I love them so much

Speaking of guilds: the Guild of Thieves. is a legit guild set up by Vetenarii to do crime to the socially acceptable level and no higher - I'm doing a bad job explaining it but it's ingenious.

Vetenarii is probably one of my favorite characters in the entire series. He, above all else, understands how humans work and he uses that skill to get people to do what he wants.

Pratchett does not pull the punches when it comes to messaging and such - very anti-war, anti-racism, anti-sexism etc. Also love what he does with People and how they can/can't be controlled (The human condition as a whole ig) - one of my fav quotes from the series is Vimes saying "They're scared. You can't expect much from people when they're scared."

My personal fav book is Monstrous Regiment, which is relatively standalone. Very good. Very "horrors of war"-y with a touch of the classic [redacted due to spoilers].

I could go on, but this post is getting very long so if I do continue I'll do it in another post.

TL;DR: Pratchett = FUCKING BRILLIANT

#discworld #ramble

[ana-chronista]

Its not really much of a prompt but I've always wanted to see Jan painting Nace’s nails and being all blushy because they're touching hands

Not much of a prompt, you say, Anon? Well, my brain apparently took that as a challenge as it managed to spin this out for 1500 words. Enjoy! (And as always, if you would like to let me know your identity, I can gift this to you when I cross-post to AO3. 😊)

“So... will you?” It takes Nace asking a second time to shake Jan out of his surprise. It’s one thing to mess around together on stage, all up in each other’s personal space with hands trailing over guitars or faces, or even in interviews, crammed onto couches that always seem slightly too small for five fully grown men, nudging and poking at each other to pass the time. But this – Nace appearing in front of him in the dressing room with no one else around asking if he’ll help him out by painting his nails for the first time – is something else entirely. Maybe it shouldn’t be. They’ve been friends for ages now and basically live on top of each other along with the others. But it just is, somehow. He realises that Nace is still watching him with that expectant expression because he still hasn’t replied, and rushes to fix that before the silence drags on any longer. “Er, yeah, sure.” he offers, shifting his own bottle of black nail polish to one side. “I’m done with mine anyway.” Nace smiles and pulls a chair over to sit opposite him at the narrow table. “Only one hand though?” he says, nodding at Jan’s left hand. “I noticed you do that, but I don’t think I ever asked you why.” “Oh, er, I’m no good at painting with my left hand. I pick at it anyway, so it never lasts long and...” He shrugs, trying to cut himself off before he rambles too much. “It just doesn’t seem worth it.” If Nace notices Jan’s mouth edging towards running away with itself, he doesn’t say anything. “Oh, OK. Makes sense.” he agrees amicably as he passes over a new bottle that’s been nestled in his hand. “Still, I’ve never painted mine before so I wouldn’t even know where to start really.” Jan frowns at the familiar bright purple shade of the bottle. “Is this Kiki’s?” “Yeah, he said I could borrow it. Besides, it seemed like a good colour for the first time. I like purple.” He can feel a smile tugging at his lips as he shakes the bottle. “Like Gengar, right?” “Yeah, exactly.” Nace replies, and when Jan glances up he sees a wide grin lighting up the bassist’s face. It does things to his insides that he doesn’t want to think about, especially not when they’re alone and this close. He takes a deep breath and gestures with his free hand. “Alright, whichever side you want to start with.” The sharp scent of the polish stings his nostrils as he opens the bottle and clears the brush, providing a moment’s distraction as Nace slides his left hand across the table. It takes a moment to get used to painting from a different angle to usual, and another moment to get used to the different shape of Nace’s nails, but he soon finds it easy enough. The older man’s hand is pliable in his own as he lets Jan move it whichever way he needs to get the best angle, years of bass playing apparently leaving him with no issues about holding his fingers in potentially uncomfortable positions for a while. They’re nice fingers, Jan notices. Not that he hasn’t before – he’s been mesmerised on stage and in practice more times than he can count by their speed and dexterity on the bass – but there’s something different about it now, up close and just the two of them. Try as he might, focusing on the rhythmic strokes of the brush and the need to keep the colour even doesn’t distract him fully from the strong muscles and firm knuckles of Nace’s long fingers. His throat feels dry suddenly. He finishes up as quickly as he can and sits back. “Left side’s done.” he says, dipping the brush again and starting to scrape off the excess. “Be careful with it while it’s drying and we can – ” But before he can even finish the sentence, Nace puts his right hand directly into Jan’s free left one, almost startling him into knocking over the bottle. The calluses on his fingertips brush gently against the inside of his wrist just briefly before he pulls back to settle his palm more comfortably in Jan’s.

If he’s ever thought of what it might feel like to have those callused fingers tracing over his thighs, or the weight of that palm pressing on his spine to bend him over, or that strong grip wrapped around him, well, he’s certainly not thinking about it now, no matter what the heat rising in his cheeks and pooling in his belly might indicate. Those are definitely thoughts best kept between him and the walls of his shower. The silence between them is ringing in his ears. He knows Nace is watching him intently as he prepares the brush and starts on the blank set of nails. Even while refusing to look up, he can feel his eyes burning into him as he keeps his head maybe a bit lower than it needs to be, hoping his loose hair is doing a good enough job at hiding his flushed cheeks. Right now, he feels like Nace would be able to see every less than platonic thought he’s ever had about him written all over his face. Much safer to keep his head down. Three nails to go. He dips and clears the brush again. He can manage this. Two nails to go. Is it hot in here all of a sudden or is it him? He doesn’t want to ask. It feels like the walls are narrowing in on them. One nail to go. Whoever designed this table had no idea how tall real people are. It feels like they’re far too close. Nace’s foot is centimetres from his own but it feels like he’s pressed right up against him. If he shifts at all, his knee is going to brush Jan’s thigh. And finally... “OK, all done.” Jan says, leaning back with a nod. “If you decide you like it, we can do a second coat after that dries fully.” He wants to kick himself as soon as the words leave his mouth. The last thing he should be doing is putting himself through all that again, but apparently his need to be a good friend and do the job properly has won out. That, or perhaps his subconscious wants another go at holding Nace’s hands. But he pushes that idea out of his head as soon as it pops up and busies himself with screwing the bottle back up. Maybe a second time round won’t be as intense; at least it feels like the walls have moved back out again. Nace, meanwhile, is twisting his hands this way and that, fingers splayed carefully to avoid any smudges as he admires his newly painted nails. “Great, thanks! It looks so much better than when I do it myself.” Jan freezes. Nace’s tone is light but his words pin Jan to the spot nonetheless. “Wait, what?” he manages past a throat that’s suddenly too dry again. “I thought you said you’d never had your nails painted before?” There’s a pause that goes on slightly too long as Jan stares at him in disbelief, until suddenly Nace’s lips quirk up at one side in a grin that’s anything but apologetic. The scrape of his chair on the floor tiles is shockingly loud in the otherwise silent room, but Jan doesn’t even have a moment to register it before Nace is standing, palms pressed flat and still against the table top, and leaning over to – His lips land right at the corner of Jan’s own, teasingly light but distinctly there for a moment longer than friendliness would allow for. In his mind’s eye, Jan sees a flash of himself turning his head just a fraction, meeting Nace’s mouth with his own, but before he can kick himself into action, the bassist is already pulling away with a slight scratch of stubble and a warm rush of a murmured “thanks, Janči” right in his ear.

He hopes Nace is too busy sitting back down to notice the shuddering breath he lets out, but with that self-satisfied smile still in place, it honestly could have gone either way. Desperate to avoid lapsing into another silence and having it be a whole thing, he says quickly, “They’re probably fine now, as long as you’re careful with them.” Nace glances at his nails quickly and nods, but his mind seems elsewhere. His gaze flicks to the black nail polish before returning to meet Jan’s own, rooting him to the spot. “If you like, I’ll do your right hand for you.” And Jan’s not sure he’s fully capable of coherent speech right now, but at least whatever answer he gets out sounds positive enough. Then again, maybe he doesn’t need to say anything at all, because Nace’s already reaching for his hand, brushing his thumb over Jan’s palm, smiling all the while.

#prompt fill #jance

[faircatch]

It really sucks being afraid to speak to people because I don't know how they are going to react if I let it slip out that I am Jewish and Israeli.

I don't know if I will get support or attacked (not necessarily physically, but verbally). I can't express my feelings about the situation my people and family are in, but can only listen to others and try to insert facts as carefully as possible...

Watching how Jews are being singled out and harassed by Pro-Palestinian protesters makes me nervous about revealing I am Jewish.

And sometimes the support from others is nice, but it can lead to vitriolic sentiment from non-Jews and non-Israelis which I also don't want.

I don't want innocent civilians dead. But I support Israel defending itself against Hamas who uses innocents as shields. But there is no way to have a civil conversation about it.

Not when I have seen people, even on this platform, say "Tear down those 'Kidnapped by Hamas' posters, because fuck Israel!" because they support innocent civilian Palestinians, but will not support innocent civilian Israelis. And they don't see how fucked up that is.

They don't see that months ago, when talking about right wing politics they used phrases like, "If Nazis are marching with you, maybe you're the bad guy." But don't see that at Pro-Palestinian marches there are Nazi flags and antisemitic shouts and cries from the people among them should make them question who is arranging and attending these protests.

There's so much I see, and I don't feel safe. I never fully felt safe. I have faced enough antisemitism in my life when people have found out I was Jewish, that I always knew it was around. Added bonus for being born in Israel. But seeing how people have been so vicious, spreading lies and propaganda from Hamas without ever researching it or actually looking into anything - going so far as to say things like Oct. 7th never happened and there are no hostages, even though Hamas has proven itself that it has done all the horrible things and will continue to do so - and will believe Hamas' lies about Israel even when proven to be false... How can I trust anyone?

I don't scroll through Instagram anymore because it makes my stomach tense, hoping I won't see something posted that is a lie or pushing an idea that will only make things worse. And its hard to scroll through Tumblr because suddenly there is "Fuck Israel!"

I know there are people who understand what it's like to not feel safe in the world... To worry where an attack may come from. To worry when someone is going to say something that is messed up or fucked up around you - especially if they don't know who or what you are. It's a constant tension. I low level always had it because it happens to me from time to time, but there is no where safe. Not even online. And I could unfollow people, but I don't want to isolate myself or judge people or disconnect... I don't want to live in an online echo chamber where all the information is the same... I just wish it wasn't so hateful.

So, yeah... I am afraid to speak and constantly watching what I say. Listening to conversations around me seeing lies and misinformation spread on social media, and feeling isolated by places I once felt connected to.

Sorry... it's early and I'm rambling again.

#Israel #jewish

[actuallymanu]

Kafka's Metamorphosis: My Ramblings

Hello world (Luna)! Since I got this account like...2 days ago, I'm just gonna post whatever insane ramblings I have in my brain into here, and that's all that is necessary for me.

I finished Metamorphosis this morning, and knowing not only how he saw himself, but also how he saw his father:

"You never hanged me, but I always felt the rope around my neck"

In all honesty, I saw this quote attributed to Kafka's writing, but I cannot find the quote itself so please take this with a grain of salt. However, the quote still applies to the book itself.

Ramblings:

Turned into a bug, Samsa's first thought when he transforms is not about him. In fact, never — not for more than 2 or 3 instances for which he is almost instantly punished — does he think about himself. Rather, his every thought, his life, and his existence seem to be consumed by his family.

He lives for his family. He breathes for them. But in his essence, what is he, if not for his family? Now, he must know. He must know because he has no family any longer. He's a vermin hiding inside a house that was no longer his the second he was not the perfect son, although he paid for it.

Even as a bug, he thinks of his family. Completely starved for any kind of human treatment for himself, he still hides underneath a blanket for his sister's comfort.

And yet, he hopes, silently, that she would move it and look upon him with the adoration she used to have for her brother. But she doesn't.

She treats him like he is dead, and feels guilty about it. That is why she empties his room like one would a missing or gone relative. She believes her life is ruined by his transformation, more than his. She is who matters because she retains her human form. In fact, that is why she doesn't let the mother clean the room.

She doesn't want to treat his room or him as something that should be cared for because she knows she does not care for him. When her mother tries to, it proves the neglect that she has been showing him. She cannot be confronted, just like her father couldn't, with the truth that their beloved.

Samsa is almost immediately resigned to his fate. He aches and longs for communication with the only ones he loves. He aches for belonging, so much so that he is willing to live with the torture of the room as long as he can see that it is his own. He aches for communication.

But he cannot bother his family. He cannot do it. So he screams silently.

They clear his room, and he only asks for a single painting to remain.

They leave him scraps that he returns untouched, only hoping that they notice his starvation

They leave the door slightly ajar while refusing to engage in conversation with him, and he stays in the shadows to not horrify them with his appearance.

His father tries to kill him, and he stays on the floor to not scare him further.

He hides in silence under a blanket to prevent his sister from witnessing what she considers disgusting.

His sister's music plays and is not fully appreciated his only thought is to protect her and play for who would truly appreciate her — him — but only through her free will.

He wakes up as a cockroach and though he describes the pain as debilitating, he still tries to force himself to work for his family.

However, his family only thinks of their own. No longer human, Samsa was no longer their concern. If he could not be a part of the family as a human, he could no longer be a part of the family at all. But they cannot admit to themselves the cruelty of their actions in their pursuit of freedom.

Samsa did not have the privilege of a job he enjoyed for his family.

Samsa observed the world with the innocent eyes of an observer.

"Was he an animal if the music could captivate him so?"

No, Gregor Samsa. You were the one with the most humanity of them all.

#the metamorphosis #franz kafka #gregor samsa #cockroaches #lit analysis #ramblings #in all honesty the book is a lot deeper than “oooh family evil” and i actually have a lot to say about it but I'm tired #kafka

[disruptivevoib]

I am very silly about the Eleutheromania and Lacuna AUs, I don't really have any specific questions but feel free to rant about either of those AUs :3

Eleutheromania is my so very beloved AU.

And I could say so much but. I have this ramble about Eleuthero!Whole, aka Clio. And loosely also Calliope, Eleuthero!Soul.

-- So thats under the cut!

So, I do often think abt trying to add more distinction between Clio in co-existence and Clio in fully formed Whole. Which are both things as of yet to be seen in the fanfic writing. But it will be seen, and thusly needs to be considered.

I know Clio in co-existence was very very apathetic.

He, universally, maintains that he is a loathsome person and pretends to accept this with a boastful ego but. He does absolutely hate himself.

So, I think that co-existence Clio is the more raw or realistic one.

When the self-aware loathing of Soul, the overwhelming seeping and creeping of emotion of Heart, and the harsh brutalist truth or moral/societal pressures of logic are all stripped away you ARE just indeed left with this thing writhing in misery because it cannot even really stand the idea of being where it is, being itself.

So, co-existing Clio accepts everything /he/ essentially does to himself because its what he believes he deserves. And on the vice-versa end, a fully formed Clio perpetuates the cycle because he also still believes its what /he/ deserves just.. backwards.

Where Callie has never inherently believed he deserved the treatment Whole gave him, Clio has only ever thought it was just that at least some part of himself be tyrannical over the other. Even in switching up because he was fully formed once more.

The distinction there is that he HAS all that loathing and self vitriol in him again alongside the misery of it.

On both ends he still puts up this face, and he still accepts the deserving nature of it all, but flips it into.. sort of.

"If I deserve it, and I am me, and they are me, they deserve it too."

A nonsensical and delusional mentality that at the end of the day, no matter where he is, he deserves to be, in some form, whether deeply subconsciously or right there at the surface level of basic thought, miserable.

Which likely stems from just. Who Clio is or became as a person. I do not think he has that many friends, and the ones he did have, obviously didn't notice he changed when Soul took over because by the time Calliope did so, he was already just *that* similar to Whole if only different in that he did not accept their sameness and delusionally denied the fact that he had become "himself" in a way by perpetuating the narrative that Mind and Heart are not people and that Whole is deserving of all the horrible things. Though he saw it as just because Whole did it first, regardless, they were both harming themselves.

I do think Clio likely did make songs still, and he threw himself into them for a time but idk if he ever actually did post them.

The inital concept was that, he did and such but.. ah. The evolution of the character and the disconnection I feel between him, or all of them as characters from source material or CJ as the artist, ahh blah blah. He never posts music he writes, or continues it.

He does enjoy creating, he just struggles to find a footing in believing anything he does is worthwhile- or even furthermore, that if he deserves to be miserable and self-sabotages so much... why would he ever properly pursue something that could make him happy when he is undeserving of that.

Which also side-ish note is yeah! Eleuthero aside from base root concept to me is pretty disjointed from the canon of CCCC. The AU is highly self indulgent and more an exploration of someone who struggles to even attach personhood to themself in a solid way, etc etc.

#voidthoughts #eleutheromania #Clio isn't great but neither is Calliope. None of them are great people in the au they're just struggling ig? #asks #eleutheromania au