#I just do not have the energy for more nonsense from any side I simply do! not! want! it!

[racingliners]

My only comment on whatever is going on with the Merc drivers is that we are still nowhere near 2016 levels of nonsense and I thank God every single day

[snapscube]

on the name thing: i think people want to call you something different because they like you and want to feel like they're your friend by giving you their own quirky nickname. a show of affection or something. that's my good will interpretation of it because it's certaintainly something I can relate to.

also hope this is ok to say, but I miss seeing you doing facecam. you're gorgeous ^^ i respect if you don't feel comfy with it tho, it ain't easy and it's probably much comfier to not bother with it at all lol

have a great day, Penny!

(i know i literally just said im moving on from this but i felt like this idea was worth responding to, AFTER THIS i am moving on guaranteed) i get that! and thats why i stress that i feel this way regardless of intent because the last thing i want to do is cause guilt or demonize people for something that's ultimately pretty common. but even considering your example, with that notion comes a couple problems:

i am not your friend! i do think that there has been a bit of an OVER-correction when it comes to how people think about parasocial relationships and personally relating to people they admire, and generally i like to push back against the notion that having any parasocial relationship is a bad thing cause personally i think parasocial relationships are unavoidable and it's more about your expectations towards that one-sided relationship that become the issue. but two things remain true in either case: i know you so much less than you know me, AND you know me infinitely less than you think you do. so at the end of the day, it is not my responsibility to walk on eggshells about behavior that assumes an intimacy from me i am incapable of and especially uninterested in retaliating.

i have to stress that i am extremely aware it would be insane of me to expect to control peoples actions regarding this on such a large scale, and im also well aware many people come in who are new who get this info for the first time. i repeat the conversation in the interest of introducing those boundaries to people who are new and in general just reinforcing them. i try not to be such a stick in the mud about most things but this is something I REALLY care about, and so i give it the no-nonsense approach i think it deserves. on that note: understanding that there are going to be gaps where people either just do not know about my preferences or simply do not care doesn't mean i have to pretend like i also don't care about it. people can say whatever they want about me in their own spaces, you can call me whatever the fuck you want amongst friends. i do not care cause i do not have the capability to care, it's never going to reach me! but that does not mean i have to pretend to enjoy it if/when it DOES reach me, especially if it's presented as an option for me to respond to. if someone just calls me something weird in a chatroom it's like, i literally do not have the energy or overall scope of vision to react to every one of those instances specifically. there absolutely are things u just gotta let roll off of u sometimes. BUT, the reason we often get into this conversation repeatedly on my tumblr is because given the ask format i get a lot of people who go out of their way to approach me with name jokes or loopholes to an actively established preference as if they are looking for my approval on it. that is where it becomes a little more unpalatable for me.

and to respond to your second question: i appreciate the kind words on that! i sure would like to reintroduce facecam again someday somehow but right now my desk setup is not great for it haha

[invertedfate]

Aside from the Geno Route which simply wouldn't fit the story you're trying to tell, are there any ideas you had for the AU that ended up being left on the cutting room floor?

I think the biggest one is Mettatown, which was gonna be a whole explorable area between Hotland and the CORE. I ended up cutting it partially due to pacing (it was ultimately filler) as well as the need for custom assets. The time it would've taken to make would've just been a lot, and so I decided to just keep it a background location that exists but never got explored. Before I decided to make the final dungeon an exploration of Asriel's psyche, it was gonna have aspects of the various areas of the Underground with spooky lost soul versions of regular enemies. This felt redundant after the CORE as well as the null section of the story, and so I decided to reevaluate the concept for the final dungeon and went for something more explorative of Asriel's psyche, which allowed for more creativity, too. At one point there was gonna be this recurring Temmie NPC who was like an explorer that was scrapped pretty early on because it didn't really add to the story. I also at one point planned a Monster Kid miniboss in Snowdin, but scrapped that as well because it also didn't add much. Before Fort Aquarius, I toyed with having the cut Doge NPC in Snowdin, but then another AU did something similar, and as I expanded the ideas for Waterfall to include Fort Aquarius, I decided to move her there. Even before I chose to make her Fours' iteration of the character, Dohj, his interpretation as a stricter and more no nonsense Royal Guard member influenced how I envisioned her factoring into the story. At one point, I was gonna have a Moldessa encounter in Hotland after the Astigmatism, Parsnik, and Migospel fight, but I cut it for pacing.

I originally wanted to have this silly sidequest involving a fetchquest with some NPCs that would eventually result in taking the Hot Leg and buying a "Cool Leg" from the Tem shopkeeper and taking them to Masa, who would forge them into the Ultemate Armor. This was also cut for pacing and due to lack of energy. That's also part of why I never showed Temmie village, tbh. Just not having enough motivation to do much with it beyond some very loose ideas like Sans wearing socks on the side of his skull and blending in with the Tems for the funny and I think we jokingly talked about Bob and the Temmies dressed as anime high schoolers with the joke being that Bob was their Tempai.

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS ZERO Animate Tokuten Drama CD “A Vampire’s Late Night Snack Terror” [Kanato ver.]

Original title: 夜更かしヴァンパイアの食テロ飯 [カナト編]

Source: Diabolik Lovers ZERO Vol. 5 Animate Tokuten CD

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Kaji Yuki

Translator’s note: Maybe this is a thing in Japan but the dessert/sweet in this track did not sound appealing to me at all. I thought she was going to make caramelized bananas at first but then this girl added PIZZA CHEESE to bananas???? I guess the unholy amount of maple syrup and cinnamon which Kanato poured on top in the end would probably mask the cheese flavor but that still didn’t sound like something I’d dig into. I’d much rather just eat a normal banana to be honest. 

You enter the kitchen.

“Uu...Hic...Uu...”

You rush over to his side.

“What’s wrong? What brings you to the kitchen...?”

You explain.

“I see...You came looking for me...But I don’t feel like going back to my room right now. Please just leave me be.”

You ask what happened.

“What happened...you ask? Can you really not tell by looking at this empty container...!?”

*Thud*

“Somebody ate my pudding! The pudding I kept in the fridge to enjoy as my bedtime snack!! I bet they’re watching from somewhere right now, snickering as they see me suffer from not being able to sleep as a result! It really pisses me off...!!”

You ask who did it.

“Kuh...I don’t care who the culprit is! ...I’ll burn everyone in this manor to ashes...No, that won’t do it. Instead I’ll smear wasabi on top of a cream pie and throw those in their faces! At once!”

You stop him.

“...Why are you stopping me? Could it be...Aah, I get it now. It was you, wasn’t it? You are the one who ate my pudding, aren’t you? Unforgivable...I won’t let you get away with this!”

You shake your head in denial. 

“Do you truly believe you can talk yourself out of this? I am enraged right now. Being deprived of my beloved sweets is basically torture! Uu...How could you...This is simply too much...! I was...looking forward to it so much as well...Uu...My pudding...Uuー”

You try to comfort him.

“You will...make some for me...?”

You nod.

“Really?”

You nod again.

“ーー Please say that sooner next time. Just think about all the unnecessary energy I wasted on crying.”

*Rustle*

“Come on. What is taking you so long? Chop-chop!”

You seem surprised how he stopped crying at once.

“Those were obviously fake tears! ...More importantly, get started on that pudding for me already.”

You open the fridge.

“What’s wrong? Don’t tell me...we don’t have the right ingredients?”

You chuckle nervously. 

“Are you...making fun of me, perhaps? Is it fun to give me hope first only to crush it into a million pieces afterwards? Are you so desperate for a severe punishment, is that it?”

You shake your head.

“Hah! Your shamelessness knows no limits, does it? Fine then! I’ll use your blood as the sauce to drizzle on top of my shaved ice!”

You offer to give him another type of candy.

“Are you trying to butter up to me like that? Those sweet words don’t make me happy in the slightest right now! Some store-bought candies won’t calm this anger I feel. ...Unless you serve me something worthy to be on the menu of a high-rate cafe, I’m not eating it!”

You promise to make that. 

“What do you mean ‘fine’? Did you not hear me when I said that I’m only accepting something exceptional?”

You say that you will make that.

“Haah...? You’ll make a dessert when you don’t even have any milk or eggs?”

You nod.

“I won’t believe you right away. Prove that you can make it. I shall put your punishment on-hold until then. ...You better believe I won’t forgive you if you serve me something vile.”

*TIMESKIP*

*Rustle rustle*

“Hm...”

*Cling cling*

“Are these the ingredients?”

You ask if he would like to help out.

“What nonsense are you spouting? As if I would ever help out!”

You agree. 

“Exactly. If you understand that, hurry up and get those hands moving.”

*Rustle rustle*

*Thud*

*Chop chop chop*

“Hm? You halved a banana before slicing it lengthwise? Hah! What a strange thing to do. You’re repeating that process several times...Let me be so kind as to give you a little warning. If you’re thinking about making something as boring as a fruits parfait, I will boil your blood and make jam out of it, do you understand?”

You ask him to have faith in you.

“I cannot have faith. I can already tell what sort of dessert you will serve me. Do you truly think you’ll be able to exceed my expectations?” 

*Cling cling*

“Eh...? A frying pan...? Don’t tell me...You’re going to fry those!?”

You put some butter in the pan.

*Pshhh*

“...! I can smell the rich aroma of butter. It’s finally starting to look a bit more like it. At least for now, that is. ...You’ll add the cut-up bananas from earlier into this pan and fry them, correct?”

You nod and add the banana slices.

“Hm? Why are you arranging them neatly next to one another like that?”

You explain.

“Good point. A good dessert should look pretty as well. If you plate it in a cute way, it’d fit my tastes better. Mmh. I can tell that you put some actual thought into this. I wouldn’t mind getting my hopes up somewhat. ...So, what will you do next?”

*Rustle rustle*

“Did you just sprinkle some cheese on top? It’s the type that melts easily when exposed to heat, correct? ...It’s starting to gradually crisp up, almost like the crust of a pie.”

*Pshhh*

“You’ll flip them over and fry the other side as well, right?”

*Rustle rustle*

“Then put even more cheese on top...Hmm~ It’s starting to smell delicious. I cannot get enough of this aroma of cheese and butter. Say, how much longer before it’s done?”

You tell him it just needs a few final toppings.

“Ah! I will put the final toppings on there!”

You frown.

“Are you talking back? I’m the one who will enjoy this dish, so do you have an issue with me seasoning it to my personal tastes?”

You shake your head. 

“Fufu, glad you understand~ ...Let’s douse the whole thing in maple syrup~! Next up is a generous amount of cinnamon, no need to hold back with it!”

He adds his toppings.

*Thud*

“Now it’s perfect! ...Melt-in-your-mouth sauteed bananas ー seasoned with maple syrup and cinnamon, all done! ...I can’t wait to dig in! Come on, please put them on a plate!”

*Rustle rustle*

*Cling*

“Ah...Well then, bon appetit~”

He takes a bite.

*Nom nom*

“Mmh~~~!! ...Mm...So sweet...~~ The crispy cheese melts in my mouth...It pairs incredibly well with the maple syrup as well! And the richness from the butter has properly seeped into the banana! The warm bananas are super soft as well, melting on my tongue...This is pure bliss!”

*Nom nom*

“Mm, mm~~ ...Hm? Hmph. You can look at me like that all you want, I am not sharing any with you. This dessert is mine. ...However, if you insist, I suppose I could consider it.”

You seem surprised. 

“Yes. I happen to be in an excellent mood right now after all. I suppose I can let you have just one bite.”

He cuts up a piece for you.

“Come on, open your mouth. ‘Aahn’...Fufu~ I fed it to you, so make sure to savor it thoroughly, okay?” 

You tell him that it’s delicious. 

“Of course! I acknowledged this dessert, so of course it is! Besides, the banana slices have been plated to resemble a flower, so it’s also pretty to look at! ...Say, did you decide to fry them in this shape because you thought I would enjoy it? Of course you did, didn’t you?”

You confirm it.

“Fufu. I see. You are so cute like that. ...Right, let me praise you. You worked hard for my sake after all.”

*Cling*

“Allow me to pat your head. ...Accept your reward, okay?”

*Rustle rustle*

“Fufu...You are so docile tonight. Just like a doll, it’s adorable. The thing about the pudding pissed me off, but I suppose it no longer matters now. I realized that the sweets you make are my favorite after all. I suppose I no longer need Reiji then. I’ll have you make all of my desserts and snacks from here on out.”

You flinch.

“Hm? Do you have an issue with that? Just look at how thoroughly satisfied I am, so you won’t possibly turn down my request, right?”

You shake your head.

“Fufu, good girl. Haah~ I truly feel great tonight. ...I’ll have a sip of your blood as well once I’ve finished my dessert, okay? I’m on a roll right now, so I’ll have plenty.”

*Rustle*

“Please entertain me until the morning dawns, okay? Fufu...”

ーー THE END ーー 

[teastainedprose]

Intro / Master List

I made a place to shake out all of the writing blurbs free instead of leaving them to rot in my e-mail drafts. Fics, drabbles, nonsense musings, headcanons and whatever else falls out will go here. Side blog to @tearueful

I am here to WRITE because creativity DEMANDS it, and this is low enough energy that chronic pain can't steal it from me. Unless it has an A03 mirror link, the writing is RAW and probably full of errors. Real fuck it, we'll do it live hours.

I loveloveLOVE interactions on my posts and in my ask box. PLEASE add replies, reblog with your comments and/or and go HOG WILD in the tags. IT FEEDS MEEEE and further fuels my inspiration.

🔞 18+ content. I say fuck. I will write smut. The situations will be adult in nature more often than not. There will be problematic content as my favs are problematic.

The ask box is open and I encourage sending requests, inspiration, or just chatter.

Feel free to send ask requests on or off anon.

Current brain worms are focused on Homelander of The Boys with a mild Fallout invasion.

Archive of Our Own Link

Prompt Requests / Fandoms / Tags / Master List of Writing

I have no issues with prompts that are open ended with what characters are involved or ones that specify. Within the fandoms that have captivated my brain, I'm up for writing any relationship romantic, sexual, or platonic and x reader writings are ones I'll happily engage in.

Sending something in is no guarantee I'll write for said prompt or when I'll get to it. My mind is fickle and sometimes a prompt grabs me by the throat, or I let it simmer for a hot minute. That or I'll simply delete it if it doesn't spark joy.

I've been writing and RPing for a very long time, but only recently delved into anything canon adjacent and then writing actual fanfics for it. Thus what fandoms I'll write for are currently limited to things I've been hype fixated on or am currently fixated on. Obviously, the main one right now is Homelander. He's my poor lil meow meow, but I will happily slip back into writing OCs from my years of RP or other characters in fandoms I adore.

Fandoms I'll write for:

The Boys

Fallout, TV series

Wildstar (OCs)

World of Warcraft (OCs)

Given how long I've been writing for and what sort of dark stories I've written with friends, there's not much that I won't explore if it has an interesting concept that I can get a good story out of. Dark themes, kinky fuckery, violence, and sexual situations are all well and good. That being said, there's plenty of things that squick me out that I rather not touch but as I'm an adult I'll either delete the prompt or explain my thoughts on the prompt related to whatever character it is.

i.e., Homelander sure as shit has a lactation kink but pregnancy stuff is body horror to me. Can I write it? Possibly, it wholly depends on the prompt.

Writing

Fallout:

🔞Explosion (Lucy x Maximus)

🔞Too Sweet ( Cooper x Reader, WIP) : Chapter [1], Tag

🔞 Gash (Cooper x Reader)

🔞Take It As It Comes ( Pre-War!Cooper x Reader, WIP)

The Boys:

Fanfics

Play with Fire (Homelander x f!reader, plus sized, WIP) : Chapter [1] [2], [3] Tag

One Up (Homelander x f!Reader) : Chapter [1] , Tag

No Bad Dogs (Homelander x Kimiko??? besties!???!?!) : Concept stage, Tag

General Drabbles:

🔞Two Player Game (Homelander x f!reader)

🔞Lonely Together (Queen Maeve x Homelander)

Pinky Promise (Ryan Butcher & Homelander🥺)

Mark You Pretty (Homelander x reader)

🔞THC Gummies (Homelander x f!reader)

Introducing the 'wife' (Homelander x Billy Butcher)

Girl Dad (Homelander & Zoe)

Rainy Day (Homelander x reader)

Mix Tape (Homelander x reader)

Plushie (Homelander x reader)

Sugar Daddy (Homelander x reader)

🔞Making a Mess (Homelander x f!reader)

🔞Blackmail, Play With Fire side fic (Homelander x f!reader, plus-sized)

🔞Crusty.. (Homelander x reader)

Driving Lesson (Homelander & Ashley Barett)

🔞Over Eager (Homelander x f!reader)

Tampons (Homelander x f!reader)

Emoticons (Ryan Butcher & Homelander)

Flower Picking ( Homelander x reader)

🔞Office Tryst (Homelander x f!reader)

Breaking Point (Homelander x reader)

🔞Pet Play (Homelander x OC, WIP)

🔞Choke (Homelander x Reader, WIP)

Tags

General Tags

Drabble / Ask / Anon Ask / Fanfic Planning / Fanfic Chapter / Worldbuilding / Canon x You / Plus-Sized Reader / Brainstorming

The Boys

The Boys FanFic / The Boys Smut Homelander / Homelander Headcanon / Homelander x Reader / Homelander Writing / Homelander Smut Queen Maeve / Maeve Writing / Maeve Smut / Maeve x Homelander Kimiko / Kimiko Writing Frenchie / Frenchie Writing Ryan Butcher / Ryan Writing

Fallout

Fallout Fanfic / Fallout Smut Maximus / Lucy MacLean / VaultKnight / Cooper Howard / The Ghoul / Cooper Howard x Reader / The Ghoul x Reader

18+ Banner Source

[humanbeanvitaminsea]

The complete and utter ignorance of all these naive LGBTQ people "and allies" (really?) blindly supporting Hamas (whilst saying they're not supporting Hamas) is mind boggling.

They honestly believe they're "on the right side of history" by saying Israel doesn't have the right to exist. By using the language of Nazi Germany to describe Jews, using DARVO gaslighting tactics to de-legitimize Israel. Whatever "the right side of history" means to them is beyond my comprehension. Calling the survivors of the October 7th massacre "nazis" and saying "Israel hasn't even suffered any damage during this "war": they're just enjoying themselves in cafés and dancing to celebrate the deaths of Palestinians" really isn't it.

Hamas, on October 7th, alongside Palestinian Islamic Jihad and even Gazan civilians, aimed for total annihilation of the Israeli people. Hamas even called for an "International Day of Rage" against all Jews, worldwide. And they call Jews "Nazis"?

They think they are supporting LGBTQ whilst they're simultaneously calling for Israel's annihilation. They spout tired anti-Semitic tropes without even understanding what they're saying. Have they forgotten already about the LGBTQ victims of the Holocaust? Have they failed to notice the extreme intolerance Islamists have against LGBTQ people? Have they zero knowledge of the historical ties Hajj Amin Al Husseini had with Hitler? They've probably not even heard of him. Yet still they use language designed to shame Israel into putting their weapons down, not thinking to mention that Hamas have had over four months to surrender and to release the hostages.

Hamas still have Kfir Bibas, who turned one in captivity, and three of his family members, held hostage since October 7th.

If these "well meaning", naive fools care about Palestinian lives, why aren't they demanding Hamas' immediate surrender and immediate return of the hostages? Instead, they accuse Israel of genocide.

Are these spreaders of Islamist propaganda against Israel simply self hating? Is that it?

I actually think they sincerely believe their own nonsense, that they've fallen hook, line and sinker for the Islamists' international campaign against Jews.

Then they say they don't understand how they could possibly be upsetting LGBTQ people, when they share Islamist propaganda. They don't even seem to have the intelligence to understand that they're sharing Islamist propaganda. They don't seem to understand that Islamists would happily murder them, given half the chance.

They call Israelis "Settler colonialist nazis" whilst sharing Encyclopedia Brittanica definitions of "Philistines" in order to "explain" why Israelis, specifically Jews, don't deserve a country, but why "Palestinians" should have the entire land, Judenrein. They explain their views as being "Justice for Palestine".

I wonder who's more confused: them, when they support terrorists who would murder them for being gay or trans- or me, wondering why comfortable Western LGBTQ people would spend their time and energy on DARVO gaslighting, calling the IDF "Terrorists" for fighting terrorists, calling Jews "Nazis" for daring to inhabit the Jewish national homeland and being the only nation in the Middle East where LGBTQ rights are even a thing, and why they don't bother to do actual research outside the memes and blogs they are so fervently reblogging.

THEY DON'T EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT HAPPENED ON OCTOBER 7th.

They don't even realise that they're simping for Islamist jihadis who believe LGBTQ people should be given the death penalty, that women shouldn't be allowed to go outside without permission from a man.

If an October 7th style attack happened in their hometown, would they still be simping for Islamist terrorists?

I feel sick.

[quinnthebard]

fresh starts

Gale & Named Sorcerer Tav (Kyra) 1373 words fluff, misunderstandings, tav is a little bit grumpy sometimes oops

Gale means well but the way he corrects Kyra's art of spellcrafting has frustrated her and this time it boils over. She awkwardly tries to make amends.

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

The wizard was infuriating.

Every time he opened his damn mouth, Kyra wasn’t sure if it was going to finally be the time she hit him for whatever conceited nonsense spilled out. Most recently he insulted her by asking if she was versed in magic. Which of course she was, they’d only been traveling together for an entire day, casting spells side by side. She obviously knew her way around spell slinging. But then he had the audacity to correct himself when she called him out for his stupidity and say he simply meant to ask if she was studied in magic. To which he continued on saying that of course she isn’t.

Gods.

Today though, she had reached her breaking point. It was something so silly she felt stupid for reacting but everything had finally boiled over. She was simply minding her business, fiddling with a light spell to entertain herself at camp. Nothing particularly difficult. Child’s play. Literally, she had been doing this since she were a child, before her scales had grown prominent enough that she used her bangs to hide them. But of course, she was doing something wrong, it wasn’t perfect. And of course, Gale had overheard.

“You know, if you just pronounce that last syllable from the back of your throat a bit more, it’d be more efficient.” He began to warble the sound, gargling behind her.

“Yes, but you see, I don’t particularly care.”

“But shouldn’t one strive for improvement?”

“Gale.”

“Here let me show you.”

She could feel his command over the Weave begin behind her. That familiar crackle of energy tinged ever so slightly with his touch.

“Gods, why are you like this?”

As quick as the magic came, it was gone, leaving an empty feeling behind. “What?”

“You’re constantly nitpicking or showing off your splendid education as if I don’t know anything. I know I’m no wizard but I’ve got experience with magic. It’s quite literally in my blood!”

“Is that how you see me?” Something broke in his voice.

“Isn’t that what you’re going for? Arrogant wizard who is clearly superior?”

“I thought you enjoyed my company.” His eyes were downcast as he avoided her gaze, turning away. “I hadn’t intended to be so imposing. Excuse me.”

“Gale, no, I—“ But he had scurried away and out of earshot before she thought to call after him in her shock. “Fuck.”

“Well that seemed to go wonderfully.” Astarion crept up behind her. “Couldn’t help but hear your delightful outburst from my tent. Finally snapped?” His eyes sparkled with mischief.

She was not amused. “Yeah, I did. Excuse me.”

Stomping back to her tent, Kyra found herself in a worse mood than she’d ever been while mildly annoyed with Gale’s insistent insertion into her practice of magic. If she had just kept her bloody mouth shut, she wouldn’t have to deal with this oddly queasy feeling in her stomach. Stepping into her tent, she violently yanked the cord that held the flap up and descended into darkness before kicking a cushion and collapsing to the ground.

She’s known her entire life that she had a temper but obviously she hadn’t learned to control it and now she wasn’t sure how to fix this. Gale was a good guy even if his intelligence annoyed her. Because that’s what it was—he’s brilliant and she was a caster acting on instinct. Gods, how do I fix this?

Taking out a sheet of paper and a quill she kept on hand, she wrote on the top Things Gale Likes. She chewed on the tip absentmindedly as she thought then scribbled a few notes: books, cats, Mystra, the color purple? Maybe she could send a purple cat carrying a book as a peace offering?

She peered around her tent but there was hardly any books around. Well, except for this romance novel she bought off the Halfling merchant in the Emerald Grove. She thought it’d be fun entertainment on quiet nights but she hadn’t gotten to start it yet. Surely, Gale wouldn’t be interested in that? But maybe it was worth a shot.

Reaching towards her pack, she pulled out the book and then flipped the sheet of paper and began to write a note on the other side.

I’m terrible at apologies but I think you’re a good guy. I shouldn’t have gotten angry and I’m sorry I misinterpreted your acts of kindness as arrogance. I don’t have a lot of things but know you like to read and I have this book? Anyway, sorry again. Let me know if it's any good. I haven’t started it yet.

She cringed a bit at the message but before she could change her mind she summoned the familiar, gave it the note, and sent it to Gale’s tent. Once she was sure it reached him, she threw the book into a void, teleporting it to him, and shoved her face into the cushion she had kicked earlier and groaned loudly. Her heart pounded in her chest as time went on, anxious to know if her poor attempt at making amends had any results. It took a quarter hour, but that familiar sense of energy crackled in the air and out plopped a note made with an elegant script.

No need to apologize. I can be a bit intense I suppose and my social skills are lacking after being isolated for so long with only Tara for company. Since it clearly needs stating: I admire your capabilities, envious if I am to be honest. With nary a thought, you conjure the same effect that I would spend years studying to accomplish and it is absolutely astonishing. It is a blessing to witness.

Stunned, she stared at his response. Of course she must apologize! She was awful. Frustrated, she grabbed her pen and scribbled beneath.

You’re far too gracious. My apologies are indeed necessary.

And she returned it to sender before rolling onto her back, blowing her bangs out of her eyes.

The response came much faster this time. Almost as soon as she had settled into her new position, it emerged from thin air and landed on her face. This time it was her original message but he had made adjustments to the back of the page where she had written her list. Her cheeks reddened. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought to just grab a different sheet of paper and now he saw how little she knew about him. Gods, this was all so embarrassing. She steeled her nerves and reviewed the additions.

Things Gale Likes - books -assuredly - cats -correct but I must remind you that Tara is a tressym - Mystra -oh yes - the color purple? -I can see why you’d think this but I prefer blues. I just find purples suit me well

Kyra made a face, unimpressed that he chose to make corrections on her notes, but before she could even consider how to respond to such antics, another note arrived.

I appreciate the sentiment and I eagerly await the moment I can begin to read your book. Rest assured, I’ll find a way to repay your kindness.

Then at the end, far more hastily scratched as if an afterthought.

I will hear no arguments on your worthiness to receive such gifts. Accept them as graciously as you said I accepted your needless apology.

Speechless, Kyra read and reread the note. Gifts? Why would she receive gifts after so easily making him feel awful and sending such a horrible attempt at an apology. She scanned their interaction once, twice more unable to find an answer to her question. Perhaps he was lonely?

Perhaps he truly enjoys your company.

She snorted at the thought. She’s hardly enjoyable to be around—primary evidence: today.

Rather than continue to brood on this insane reaction to her stumbling, she quick sent a final note.

I look forward to it.

Then, rather than wait for a response, she snapped her fingers willing the lights to dim and curled up in her bedroll trying to ignore the flutter in her chest. When she woke up, a bundle of autumn crocuses resting nearby on top of a message.

A start to a beautiful friendship

[dapper-shipping-forever]

Trigun s/i origins, part 3

Here's the next chapter ! It gives a brief look at how Lyric and Gill went about being together before she and him were separated. Warning for some blood and essentially a toxic relationship.

Read part 1 and 2 here boops. Enjoy this please; reblogs always appreciated 🌸

💜💜💜

Lyric kept information he revealed limited. He told her they were plants, that they lived together in their own garden, that she had powers and he did too, and a few other basic things; he filled in smaller gaps in what Gill knew as they went. He hadn't told her much about what they did before she awoke, simply that they'd always been in the garden. Always had been together, just the two of them alone.

He continued his own research, delving into the information held within the briefcase. He'd developed a strange fascination with it. 

His own technology was limited by what he'd scavenged from other parts, but it was suitable. For then. He'd often stay absorbed in it for hours while Gill sat elsewhere.

"What is this stuff you're always looking at?" Gill asked, staring at it above his shoulder.

He froze, then cautiously asked. "Do you recognize any of it?"

She looks curiously to him. "No. Should I?"

He'd been relieved. To him, this research represented pain, it was born of their torture. Now to Gill, though, it represented nothing but seemingly random collected data. She no longer remembered how they were cut open and how their energy was exploited for selfish desires. Perhaps he should've erased her memories long before this.

Gill was relatively unaware of the darkness that held Lyric. She couldn't remember any other way of seeming from him. She was happy and content, Lyric continuing to take care of her however she needed. If she tried to do too much on her own, he would stop her. He was her loyal worshipper at the altar he created.

Lyric kept them both away from humans for a long while. She was curious about what was outside their cave, but she no longer remembered the humans she'd been fascinated with and her desire to leave stayed low, for a while. Until she sat outside their garden, and she saw humans in the distance again. 

She started asking questions. Prodding Lyric to tell her about them, about who else lived near them, what other creatures this world is home for. He'd gotten angry, bursting out in a shout to drop it, the humans were not worthy of her interest. She'd shrunk away, and he'd apologized, but tension hung heavy in the caves.

Eventually, though, she got her desire. As it happened, Lyric's research had him desiring more tech to power it, which meant having to venture out and find it, and his unwillingness to leave Gill by herself brought him to take her along.

And thus she met the humans. And thus she fell in love. And thus Lyric needed to possess her.

Each time he erased her memories, he could not keep her from the humans. If he tried to keep her held within the garden, she would sneak out, if he took her with him on his own journeys within their cities, she could not be convinced to leave and stay gone from their sides. Her memories rarely stayed intact longer than a couple years. 

For that's all he needed to do. Anytime she drifted to far, he'd pull on her leash, and with a wash of her mind she'd be free and back in his arms alone.

Though, he discovered too that that wasn't the only reason to erase her memories. It was when Gill saw a photo of the researcher within Lyric's research that her face paled, her eyed became frantic. She'd babbled nonsense, names and places she shouldn't remember after many cycles of her memory being completely erased. But the memories had all been unlocked, and at once they all attempted to return to her mind. She panicked, and Lyric could not get her to be calm. She screamed and she screamed and she screamed from the jumbled mess within her. Lyric did what he thought as his only choice to soothe her; he erased her memories and let her confusion be carried away. She was perfectly content after, remembering nothing of that.

And in the cycles where for whatever reasons he let her memories stay a few years? Those rare cycles where she kept enough distance long enough to satisfy Lyric and nothing in particular triggered her memories to return? The jumble of memories locked away was always too strong, and always returned. Once, she was able to keep her memories for just six years, but that was the longest stretch in that period.

Gill was kept away from the knowledge Lyric wanted her far from. Sure, sometimes things would be off, not quite in line with the words Lyric told her. But he drew her away from thoughts like that, back into his loving arms again.

But he could never stop her from loving humans. She would dance amongst them, sing to them, laugh with them.

Memories washed aside again and again. Love rekindled again and again, too powerful to be hindered by the waves thrust upon it.

And generally, the humans loved her in return, captivated by the girl who's energy invigorated her surroundings. But not all humans are kind.

This town was dirty. Not just from the sand curling around every surface, but the people too. Lyric knew better than to trust them. He'd told Gill to keep her distance and stick close to him while they were there, but distractable and innocent as she can be, she hadn't listened.

She hummed to herself, the moonlight dancing to her tune as she performed for it. She'd found a rocky outcropping a ways towards the top of a small mountain, shadowed by the cliff face rising tall behind it. She was alone, but soon company would pay a visit.

A group of men, scoundrels who skulked around the town, laughed and jeered as they climbed the rough surface. This was their spot, and they hadn't expected anybody else to be using it for their own hideaway. Though, it wasn't unwelcome to them and their dangerous smiles.

"Hey there, doll !" The man in front of this pack called to her.

Gill stopped humming, and the moonlight became cold as it stopped it's dancing. "Hello there." She smiled.

"Seen you around town, you and that fella arrived together." Another man says, approaching. They all gradually fan out around her.

"Yes ! Is this your home?" She asks. The moon urges her to run but she isn't heeding it's plea. Humans are kind.

"Yeah, this is our place. Ain't much, but it's what we got." Another man says. 

"This place is pretty shit, if you ask us. We ain't see many folks who have much here. Not a lot of folks who walk around wearing such nice white clothes as you." The initial guy talks.

Gill looks at her clothes. Lyric had given her a lovely dress, he never told her where it's from. "I suppose? It is rather lovely."

"Got that right. You and your man must be pretty well off, then?" He asks.

She thinks, head tilting. Well off? She and Lyric do have what they need, she's never wanted for more than companionship. She's never understood the desperation of men such as these. "Well, I guess that we are."

"How much you think your hoity toity man would pay for ya?" His next question slices into the air.

"Sorry, what?" She's more confused than anything.

There's a man behind her and he grips her arms in his calloused hands, jerking her to stand with her back straight before him; she can't move her arms from behind her own back. She gasps. Trying to get herself away, she thrashes, but she is delicate. Her hands knew nothing of how to fight another being, and the man easily held her there.

The first man produces a knife. They all stalk forward and she is surrounded, her knees threaten to buckle. She'd never been threatened by a person before, she has only seen their smiling expression. The smiles on these people were sharp. The knife is pressed on the side of her neck, she can feel the warm, sharp metal a hair from slicing deeper into flesh and blood and splattering that essence on the dust. "Show us what you got, stranger. You've been holding out on the folks living here; you prissy bitch."

She whines, trying to thrash away but the men persist. "Holding out, what, I have no idea what you mean !"

"You've got money !" He yells at her.

"Look at the thing, all clean; bet she and that man have been hoarding a water plant somewhere." Another pipes in.

"They've probably got a whole group of plants to get all their fancy shit !" A voice says.

"Bet they're loaded with double dollars too !" Somebody in the mob adds.

She can't do anything except stare at these men. She may be interested in the humans, bur her experiences couldn't be further from a humans. Money, the reliance on plants, what it means to be hungry, she's never known that. These men would hurt her to satisfy those needs. 

Her body is limp. She can't fight them. Her vision blurs full of tears.

It is as the man starts to drive the knife further that blood splashes onto the cliff. It is not her own blood.

The man with the blade collapses, his blood seeping between lines of the rocks behind him, nothing but a specter wreathed in shadow, stands Lyric; water steams around his hands. The other men are too horrified to vocalize their fear. 

Faster than the men can try to flee from this creature of ruin, highly pressurized streams of water shoot forward, piercing their bodies. Slicing arcs of pressurized water get a few others; the man who'd restrained her fell in two distinct thumps to the rock. The men who weren't struck by those were met with ice as Lyric ran towards them, an array of sword sharp icicles following the movements of his hands and reducing them to shreds. Water dripped off the side of the cliff to steam on the sands far below. There wasn't a single knife raised to him.

Despite being free, she hadn't moved an inch yet. Her expression was terror, unable to understand the carnage her gentle Lyric had just committed to these people. 

"Worthless creatures, awful." Lyric spits quietly. He walks forward, stepping across viscera. It truly is nothing in his mind. He reaches her, caressing her face and wiping a splatter of blood off with his own blood splattered hand. "Precious sweetling, it seems you're not hurt; not to worry these humans are trash and nobody shall hurt you. Let's depart." He walks by her, placing his hand upon her shoulder as he does.

As Lyric leaves, she stands and she wobbles, and she falls to the ground, landing harshly on her knees, bending forward to hide herself. Her hair sprays out on the rocks, blood soaks the strands and colors the tips Crimson, her hands becoming sticky and wet.

Lyric guided her complacent self to the garden. Floating in a lake Lyric created, the water is pink as she bathes; Lyric sits behind her, scrubbing red from her shimmering hair. 

Lyric tuts. "My dear, you have no idea how worried I'd been. I was terrified thinking you could've been hurt. The gall of those bastards, daring to try and shed your sacred blood." He growls darkly.

She raises her left hand from the water. There's dried blood coating her flesh from the rocks. "Was destroying them the correct choice?" She asks him.

Sighing, Lyric smiles. "It was needed to protect you. Not to worry, stay here, stay with your friend, and you shall never need to sully yourself; violence wouldn't suit you." He grabs her hand in his and puts it back underwater, wiping it. Bringing them back out, her's is spotless while his has dried blood stuck to him. It flakes from his fingers. "My hands get dirty that way your's may stay clean." He kisses her dripping hand before going back to washing her clean.

She stares at her pale hand. She sees the blood dripping from her palm, bright red.

Though Lyric appreciated that she stayed indoors after that, he wasn't fond of the quiet, unresponsive attitude she acquired. Her memories were washed from her mind.

Giggling, two hands covered Lyric's eyes behind him. Gill leaned into him, grinning with barely contained laughter.

“What are you trying to do?” Lyric hums, amused after listening to her sneak towards him just before now.

She uncovers his eyes, leaning around where he’s sitting into his sight line. “You’ve been ignoring me.” She fake pouts, but her smile is there too.

He blinks. “Have I been?”

“Yup; you haven’t payed attention to me all day.” She plants her hands onto her hips.

He smiles like one would at a pet demanding it’s owner’s attention. “I’m sorry, my joy.” He turns half to face her and extends an arm to hug her waist, but she steps back far enough and quick enough that he misses. He raises a brow at her. 

“Nuh uh.” She says. “Since you’ve been ignoring me all day, you’ve gotta earn it.”

“Let me get this straight,” He leans forward. “You just came to me for attention, yet I must earn it?” 

“You can’t argue my impeccable reasoning.” She clasps her hands behind her and rocks backwards on her heels a few times.

No, she’s correct, he can’t. He is the one who is at her feet, begging for her attention alone. “Well, alright, then.” He makes a move to grab her, and she steps back.

Thus starts an impromptu chase, Lyric pursuing her while Gill dodges from his grasp. Their laughing echoes around the garden.

Lyric, faster, stronger, and tougher, obviously soon catches her. He holds her in a strong grasp. Gill seems to enjoy it, catching her breath and all smiles. She wants to catch him too, because she’s quick as she insists. Lyric deliberately runs slower to let her give chase before allowing himself to be caught before she can get tired. He can tell she feels some accomplishments, and he praises her speed.

Water laps at their sides, another occasion. “Am I doing it correctly?” Gill asks.

“Just kick your legs and move your arms like I demonstrated.” Lyric teaches her.

She’s never a particularly strong swimmer. Sometimes Lyric tries to teach her how; being in water is natural to him. He supports her as she tries to practice. Her face is scrunched, determined, as she does what he tells her. Arms circling, legs kicking, she tries to swim. It’s not exactly correct, she is trying either way though.

She straightens with a sigh. “Can’t I just do the little paddles?” She lifts her hands to mimic paddling.

“You can.” Lyric says, crossing his arms with a smile. “But I thought you wanted to swim fast like me?”

“I do, I do.” She pouts. 

Lyric leans back, letting himself float in the water. He’s content whether she wants to keep practicing or not, becoming distracted just being with her. He watches her get a mischievous glint to her eyes, moving her hands under the water. He passively just watches, mildly curious, and then water covers his face. She laughs after splashing him. 

Lyric wipes a hand across his face, dripping with water. “Trying to fight now?”

“What? No way.” She chuckles.

“Yeah, of course.” Lyric’s head shakes.

Grinning, Lyric decides two can play that game, and he splashes a wall of water at Gill, making her squeal and twist away from it. Swim practice is forgotten, instead they wade around the lake, trying to get the other soaked. Gill sweeps her hand across the water. Lyric parries and lifts his hands quickly out of the water.

Another occasion, Lyric and Gill wander around a town, Lyric more of a shadow than anything as they explore. People around them chatter and enjoy the day. A few drunks sit on a step, leaning on each other with bottles in their limp hands.

Gill skips along, Lyric always steps behind her. After a bit, they notice something, a tension amongst the townsfolk. Whispers of “the last run” starting. Neither are familiar with that.

From the plant building, a surge of energy comes to the town. Lights brighten, the people loudly talk of the resources this plant is going to give them.

Only the two independent plants hear the scream as the energy is depleted from that plant, drained and used to a dry husk. A hand pressed to her mouth, Gill bent forward with eyes full of pure horror. Lyric had pulled them aside between two buildings as soon as he’d felt the energy of the red plant. His hands were limp by his sides, his eyes matching that terror. He’d heard humans talk about “the last run”, but they’d never been close enough to feel the scream from the plant like that.

That’s how humans treat their kind, Lyric understands better than she. This is why they stay hidden; they wouldn’t hesitate to abuse them too.

“Keep steady.” Another occasion, Gill holds strands of Lyric’s hair.

“I am.” He says, straightening his back. The researcher used to keep their hair the same length for convenience, but since being here they’ve been able to control it. Gill keeps her hair longer, and Lyric likes his own hair long just not quite as much as her’s is. She offers her help to just maintain it.

Her gentle fingers brush tangles from his blond locks, a pair of scissors in one hand. “I’m just gonna cut a few inches.” She tells him.

Lyric closes his eyes as she starts to cut, muscles relaxing under her touch. This is what he craves, her closeness, her attention, and her loving care. This is bliss.

He sighs. “You have the hands of a goddess.”

She gives him a little bemused glance. “I’m just cutting your hair.” She takes a strand, letting it flutter to the ground.

He smiles, glancing upwards towards her. “I know.”

She shakes her head, huffing. “You oddball, Lyric.”

Noman’s land has little in the way of native wildlife. It is why humans must rely on the plants to create their needs. But the plants alone can’t terraform the sand, they can’t sustain the humans outside their tanks and what they can make.

The people of the town have two plants, yet there are those who wander the streets starving. They haven’t got the food available for everyone, and the starving lay in the blistering shadows of buildings.

Gill sits on a low wall, Lyric leaning back beside her. They’ve only just come to this town. It hurts, an almost physical wound to see the people of this town seem stuck in such despair as that. She feels the desire to help, but she’s unfamiliar with human needs.

She gazes at the plant room, sitting tall above this town. The plants within seem to hum, and she can feel their energy.

“Hey, Lyric.” She says quietly.

He hums, turning his head towards her. What do you need?”

“I want to see them.” Her eyes haven’t strayed.

“See who?” He furrows his brow.

“The plants.” She finally looks towards him. “You say that the other plants can’t leave their tanks and must serve humans, but I’ve never seen the others; I want to meet another plant, like us.” She loves Lyric, she loves humans, and she wants to be able to love the plants as well.

Lyric chews on that, looking aside. The plants wouldn’t be any danger like the humans, and if they’re trapped they can’t take Gill. “The humans are protective of their plants. They wouldn’t just let us walk into that room to look at them.”

“Maybe if we simply ask?” She suggests, shrugging.

Lyric scoffs. “No, they wouldn’t say yes.” He thinks longer. Then, he sighs. “Alright, if you want to see them, I can get us there.”

“You can?” Her eyes gleam.

“Yep, but tonight, when most of the humans sleep.” He tells her.

She claps excitedly. “Yes, thank you !” She swings her legs, already eager.

Later, they stand in a secluded area by the plant room. Guards stand near the entrance, but Lyric just has to create their own. A blade of highly pressurized boiling water cuts the metal wall next to them, a hole just long enough for them to duck into. It’s hidden enough that the humans aren’t going to find the opening too quickly. He waves his hand for Gill to follow and guides her into the plant room. Then, leading her to the plants, they stand before the glowing figures.

Gill stares, eyes wide. “They’ve got petals like me.” She says first, eyeing the large petals covering their upper halves currently.

Lyric makes a sound to agree. “All of these plants have those.” They rarely uncover their forms.

She moves forward, full of admiration. “They’re beautiful.” She breathes out.

Lyric steps away. “You can get a decent look, just keep your volume low. We shouldn’t stay too too long tonight.” He’s not terribly invested in their kind, but he lets her explore those plants.

Gill stands before a tank, looking at the plant softly bob in the liquid. She can feel her energy better this close. As she stares, she sees how, slowly, the petals around her start to unfurl. The upper body and face of her is revealed. Gill’s grin widens, she’s filled with joy, an intense and shining wonder. 

The plant floats lower, getting more on Gill’s level. Gill waves her hand to them. After a minute, the plant waves back. Though, it isn’t exactly a real wave, Gill gets the impression she’s just mimicking her. Gill tilts her head to the side, and the plant follows; she sways to the other side, and the plant sways a beat after. Getting more into this, Gill raises both arms and watches the plant do it too. She lowers it, raises one, lowers it, raises her leg, lowers it,raises her other arms and her other leg, and the plant follows each movement. They’re curious about her, and she feels that they’re enjoying this too. She hops, and the plant flutters her petals in response. Fully laughing now, she spins around in circles on a heel, and the plant twirls with her; several spins as a skirt and petals flow behind them.

Gill, after playing that impromptu game, just sits a while with the plant; her back to the cool, towering glass tank. The plant merely floats behind her, watching Gill. It’s interesting, but Gill can feel a connection to the plants without having to talk; she’s never been around other plants such as them before to tap into the feeling. 

When Lyric tells her they’re leaving, she waves to the plants again. The plant she’d played with returns to being wrapped inside of her petals, to the humans a simple generator, to Gill a nice companion. To Lyric, nothing particularly worth paying any attention to.

It’s the townsfolk who later reveal to Gill that they need food. As a plant, who never needs to actually eat, she hadn’t understood that it was that necessary to the humans. She begins thinking, about food, how the plants provide for humans, and how if they could grow food themselves like how she grows flowers inside their garden then they would be better; and she realizes that she can help the humans.

The townspeople watch as she stands outside of town, facing the sand stretching around them. Lyric squints from the shadows, curious to what she’s doing there. Lifting her hands, lines glow on her body. She’s never used this much power at once before this. The sand churns before her, and it becomes soil and grass. Infant vegetation sprouts. Little saplings root. In minutes, an oasis of farm land appears. It’s not big, but it’s sizeable enough to provide extra support for the humans. As her power summons this fertile space, large wing like petals emerge from her back, sliding from slits in her white dress.

The townsfolk merely gawk. She turns, and the sun catches her hair; it’s like there’s a halo around her. Decades and decades and decades from then, the story of an angel who descended to this desert and helped save the town would emerge and persist after that. This town would become famous in this world, the only city with an actual farm land to bring them necessities and would be in part maintained by a large team of plants acquired from that fame.

Lyric set his jaw. His fingers curled hard into his arms, unseen by the humans. He watches them drop to their knees in respect.

“I brought you more food; these are merely the start of your own garden, but you’re going to have to maintain it.” She tells the humans, smiling brightly.

Lyric drags her away by her wrist as the townsfolk attempt to thank her for helping them all. Lyric gets her somewhere private. As soon as there’s no humans near them, he spins around at her.

“What was that?” He demands from her, fingers curlings at his sides.

She looks at him confused. “They needed food.”

“You revealed yourself to humans !” He groans, amazed at her thoughtlessness in doing that without any concealment. She flinches when he raises her voice to her, and he forces a steadying breath as he feels bad scaring her like that. “How often do I have to tell you that the humans would hurt us and hold us as their prisoners if they learned we aren’t the same as them?”

She frowns. “But, they seemed happy to see me and learn of my powers.”

He sighs. “And their greed shall soon guide them to posses that for themselves.”

She stays adamant. “And you’ve also yet to tell me why you think that of humans. They haven’t done anything to suggest they’d abuse us.”

“That’s, you just have to take me at my word.” He looks off to nowhere in particular; perhaps this is when it’d be useful for her to know of the experimentation they gained their myriad of scarring from. But, he’s never told her since she first forgot, and he never intends to tell her.

“Lyric, listen to me.” She pleads. He looks to her, and she continues. “I believe in humans, I think they’re good. They just need some assistance, and I’m happy to help; in fact, we both can help. Lyric, those plants won’t stay long here. I gave them proper soil, but that’s not the only thing they need to thrive here. They need a steady water source.” She looks at him, and it’s obvious what she’s asking.

He scowls. “You expect me to also help them?”

She steps closer, eyes large and searching as she begs him. “Please, they need it. If not for the humans, help me? Help the plants I cultivated?” She tries appealing.

Lyric is quiet, a long stretch as he contemplates. The defeat is evident in the drop of tension from his body. “Only because it’s you.”

Gill grins. She moves forward to hug him, and after a brief second he hugs her in return. “Thank you.” She tells him.

That night, Lyric insisting on being unseen and utilizing some stealth, they revisit the new garden; the humans were quick and already constructed a cover, a large tarp to protect it from the scorching sunlight. He gives no care to helping these humans, but it’s only to protect the plants Gill adores that he’s doing this. He raises his hands, and hidden beneath the soil a water system forms, connecting to all the roots of the plants to provide them nutrients. Gill’s joy is obvious, pleased the plants now stand a chance.

Lyric is glad, seeing her expression, and he supposes he made the right decision to help. Looking at his hand, turning aside, there’s a tension in his expression. Creating a water system that big took a lot of energy, he can feel how it had drained him then. He knows Gill must be drained too.

He knows that a plant’s power can be completely depleted if it’s all used. He remembers what humans do when plant’s run out of their energy; “the last run”, the push to deplete a plant. He realizes that using their powers in such grand displays without replenishing it is only risky. How do they replenish it?

His eyes drift to the plant room. He remembers connecting to the energy of a plant, and he devises an idea. A theory that perhaps can replenish the depleted energy they’d used. If he can connect with a plant, then perhaps he can connect with their energy too.

It’s under the protection of night Lyric leads her to the plant room. Refusing to answer what they’re doing, they sneak in using the hole they’d made before.

Lyric approaches a plant, Gill curiously watching behind him. More curiously, she can’t grasp why Lyric needs to look back to the main door and freeze it shut.

Looking to the plant, Lyric puts both hands on the tank. The plant unfurls, watching him while his markings all glow. The plant glows and the connection bridges them; in the tank, she spasm, markings glowing as she contorts and twists. Eyes scrunched, face determined, Lyric draws the energy from the plant and takes it. He hears her scream, but he only stops when her screams do and there is no plant in that tank. The scraps float and sink in the tainted liquid.

Backing away, there is silence. Gill covers her mouth, horrified by what she just watched him do to them. 

“That worked great.” Lyric feels his energy returned in spades. A feeling like tar flowing inside him telling him he should feel bad is pushed below away; anybody else around them is unimportant if they can be used for the betterment of himself and Gill always.

Tears drip to the metal flooring. “What did you do to her?” Gill whispers out.

Lyric turns around to her then. “Creating that garden, using our powers a lot, it depleted our energies; I just replenished it.”

“You murdered her !” Gill screeches, dropping her hands. Tears run furiously along her cheeks.

There’s thudding at the door. The humans try to get inside, realizing a plant has stopped functioning, but the frozen door can’t be moved.

Lyric barely pays their actions attention. “It was needed.” He levels her with a determined gaze, and there is nothing within him that can be swayed from this decision. “Now, your turn.”

Gill, eyes widening as his intentions are realized by her, backs slow steps away. “No, no I refuse to. I won’t take from them.”

“You feel it, the weakness from creating such fertile land and dozens of plants? You need this energy to replace what was used.” He cooly insists.

“Creating that with my energy was my decision. I refuse to make her suffer from something I decided on like that.” Gill trembles in place, trying to keep her stance confident but shrinking as he stares right at her.

“Then if you want to be stubborn and refuse to help yourself, allow me to help you instead.” He takes several long strides forward.

Gill can’t scramble back fast enough and Lyric yanks on her wrist. She falls to the ground, trying to resist while he drags her across the floor to the other plant tank.

She tries to tug her hand from his tight grip. “Lyric, I refuse !”

He ignores her. Placing his open hand upon the glass, his markings glow when the plant unfurls, establishing their connection. He lets the plant scream, taking her energy. He uses his body to connect the energy he takes and flow into the small hand he’s laced his fingers with. The energy flows out and in, and the liquid turns dark and murky.

Lyric drops his hands, satisfied. Gill curls, bent above the floor, starring with absolute terror and sadness at her hands. She had played with that plant.

Hot tears hit the ground. She’s frozen, unmoving in her horror.

“Now you have your energy restored.” Lyric simply says.

“She was my friend.” Gill sobs, her hands, her body, it itches. She feels stronger and she feels disgusted.

“Then she should be glad she helped you now. Come on, let’s return to our garden. Before the humans come.” He starts to turn away.

Gill jerks, hands clutching her biceps to make herself smaller. “I’m not leaving with you ! You murdered those plants ! What’ve you done !”

Lyric hardens his gaze. “I told you, it was for us.”

“You can’t justify hurting others just to help yourself !” She sobs.

Lyric tuts. “Not myself, us. I would murder this entire town if it would benefit you. I would gladly give you the energy of a hundred plants. Their pain means nothing to me for your joy.”

Gill can only stare. Never before has she been shown this aspect of her best friend, how could he, her beloved companion, carry such a look in his calculating gaze; it’s a realization that perhaps she simply just refused to notice it until then. “It was because of me.”

He hums, agreeing. “All my choices are for you.”

She sobs, screams, and resists when Lyric tries to take her out of there. Setting his jaw, he  knows he has no option but to stall the humans. If she is being difficult, he needs to erase her memories there to calm her completely.

Gill lays in their garden, soft grass under her. Lyric lays content besides her.

“What would you do if you weren’t a plant?” Gill asks him. “If you were, hm, say, a toma.”

He glances at her, bemused. “If I were a toma not a plant?”

Gill grins, shifting. “Mhm, a cute toma.” She giggles lightly.

Lyric huffs an airy laugh. He can entertain her with this question. “Um, well I assume we’re both toma then, because I could never be somewhere you’re not also, and then I suppose I would just roam the desert along with you.”

“Just that?” She raises a brow.

He laughs. “What else is it that the toma do besides wander around wherever?”

“Um, hm, theyyy look cute !” She chirps, thinking.

“That’s more just how they are, not something they do.” He points out.

She hums. “Maybe they play games and have whole elaborate things they all do when nobody is looking at all of them, hm?”

“Then I suppose we’d play toma games together, if we were both tomas.” He says.

“Do you think we’d have a flock too?” She wonders.

“We wouldn’t need any flock; just the two of us is how it has always been, and that’s how I prefer it.” He smiles at her.

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true.” She smiles at him as well.

Love has always been intriguing to Gill. Each explanation that introduces her to the concept grabs her, and she craves to know the feeling in the truest ways. She always has a general love for people, animals, and many things, the only person she’s been able to know enough of to feel deeper feelings for has been Lyric. She hadn’t been given the chance to truly fall in love. However, she did come close before 

They'd met in the desert, in a bon fire's warm glow a particular night. He'd been sweet, he'd been charming, and he'd pulled her in with his shy, sincere conversation and his smile that roused her's. 

They'd starting meeting several times, always out in the town, always after Gill snuck away from her friend Lyric; she felt bad keeping it from him, but she knew he hated humans. She promised she'd tell him about the human she'd started to fall for when she has better convinced him they aren't like how he thinks they are.

The man made her feel wonderful. He tucked her hair behind her ear, and he spoke about what a marvel she is. He made her feel pleasant, warm, he made her feel fluttery. She wondered if the romantic love humans talked about was something like this. She wanted it to be.

The man asked her to meet him at night. He called it a date. He always thought she was a little peculiar when she asked him what simple things like dates are, but it also to him just added more to her charms. Of course, Gill was eager for their date then.

Sneaking away from Lyric at night wasn't simple, but she did it. He'd been distracted by some tech.

Going to the spot the man asked her to meet him, he was already waiting for her. He'd grinned, and she'd hurried to stand in front of him quicker.

He'd taken her hands. They spoke softly, nobody they could see nearby and not much of a need to whisper, but it felt right to speak gently. The man had said he has feelings for her, he was glad she accepted his date. She may not know much about humans and romance, but she adored this; she liked this human. His face became red as they talked, and he stood close to her, and he stared meaningfully at her.

But he couldn't make a move. Something fast, a mere blur, whipped with purpose around her and struck him, wrenching his hands out of her's. He hit a rock a few feet back, hard; a long gash appeared on his face where part of whatever pushed him had hit. Gill recognized the blur as a tendril of water as it retreated.

Lyric, seething and practically steaming, stood several steps back. Bladed of water rose abounded him, poised to attack. "This is where you went?" He asked, but truly it was something like an actual demand.

Gill ran to kneel beside the man. He groaned and stared at Lyric, horror written on his expression seeing something impossible for any human. Gill snapped her head to Lyric. "You hurt him ! What do you think you're doing !?"

"You went BEHIND MY BACK ! You came to meet SOME DISGUSTING HUMAN !" He roared at her." The blades appeared ready to slice into the man another round.

Gill, wanting to save this human, instinctively put part of herself before him. Unfurling, wing like petals emerged from her, creating a sort of barrier around them. Hurt flashed across Lyric's face, seeing her seem to put this human above him, but rage covered it. "I wasn't going behind your back, I just wanted to prove there wasn't any need to stay away !"

She turned to look at the man. His eyes wide, he seemed frozen; the mark on his face was deep and oozed blood in a river. Gently, unsure but almost curious, she placed her palm on the injury. When she looked at her palm after, it was soaked in the blood. She stuttered on an inhale, a gasp as she went quiet. It's strange, but she'd never touched blood before yet the sight of it on her hand seemed to pulsate. It rocked something inside her, making her tremble. Her left hand, coated in red, marred by it; she couldn't move, could only stare at her wet palm and twitching fingers then. 

"You're monsters." The man chattered.

Gill's head, somewhat out of body, snapped to him. His horror glazed eyes were on her now, and she realized he meant her; he thought of her as a monster right now. She couldn't find the sentences to deny that claim. The blood on her hand had briefly silenced her.

"Yes, that's right." Lyric replies coldly. "To you humans, you could say that we certainly are." His burning, flashing eyes fixate on the injured guy. "Tell anyone who the monsters you encountered are, and disfiguration won't be where I decide to stop." 

The man makes a strangled attempt at a possible scream. But it's somewhat of a submission.

Lyric walks forward and roughly grabs Gill's hand. Pulling her wrist, he yanks her away from the trembling human and leads her quickly away; shaken by the blood, she's first only able to follow. She stumbles on the ground as Lyric's speed is relentless.

His grip on her wrist is near enough to make it snap, it seems; fingers digging in. It takes her a bit to actually feel it, but she starts tugging on her wrist. It is almost impossible to get him to loosen. "Lyric ! Walk slower ! Lyric, Lyric ! Lyric, that hurts !"

Her claiming he's hurting her finally makes him stop. He abruptly releases her wrist, but keeps his hand hovering around it, and looks at her, eyes wide. Then, he realizes he was holding her too tight; he can't believe he hurt her. Her eyes stare wide at him as well, nervous and wild. He hurt her, that wasn't easily forgivable; but, but he just needed to get her away from there. She needed to be home, he thought. Setting his features into determination again, he takes her wrist; gentler, but no less insistent as he leads her to their home. All he has to do to fix things is wash her memories away. That's simple. It's easy.

Flowers are naturally nonexistent on this desert planet they landed on. Yet the garden bloomed. Flowers of different varieties were nestled there; the cave provided shade, Gill provided soil, and Lyric provided water, allowing them to comfortably exist in that area.

A wonderful place to call home. The flowers are tough and yet delicate in appearance. They are resilient enough to take root in this place that was never made to be their home with. 

The immortal pair layed amongst the flowers. Quiet and comfortable, they both stared towards the ceiling of the cave they made theirs. Their hands were out stretched to each other, but just millimeters from actually making contact.

Lyric would often take Gill's hand, feel the delicate lines of it. She is untainted, her hands have never had to defend themselves thanks to him. They are best suited, he believes, to tending to her flora in their cave. Lyric brushes his nose on her hand, bringing it towards his face in near reverence as she were some spirit he threw himself into. 

"Lyric, if you wanted to kiss my hand, it's alright to." She told him, a bit bashful though saying that.

He shook his head, his adoring smile present and staying in place. "No, my lips could never touch your body. They aren't fit for it; these lips could never deserve that." He was not fit to think of doing such a thing, disgraceful.

She simply laughed. "That's silly." He could've.

But Lyric stood firmly on that. "Trust me, never." He wouldn't.

Lyric had formed an idea. He's tried numerous times to keep her far from humans, but only twice did he witness any aversion to them. It was when they showed her their true intent to be cruel towards them. 

Perhaps he shouldn't have erased her memories quick as he did. Maybe she would've seen his reasoning for avoiding them fully. 

No matter, he decided. He could easily get them to show her their truest, cruel selves, she could see what he saw.

All he did was whisper amongst a small town. The girl he brought with him was inhuman, she had powers, abilities, magic, he said. 

If they captured her, she could give them everything the town could need. Their hunger shone in their gazes as they plotted. Lyric despised their expressions, seeing their want aim to her, but he would rid them of those expressions quickly.

Gill knew Lyric wasn't a fan of anyone, but she carelessly moved amongst the townsfolk there. Her companion did nothing to dissuade her from that.

She walked into an empty walkway. An ambush of the townsfolk descended, corraling her. They bound her arms, shouting their victory. She begged them to release her. They gloated about the resources she'd give. Watching them, getting dragged away as she kicked and pleaded, listening to them, it hurt her deeply to witness it. Something within her that shone with adoration dulled. 

They hadn't gotten far with their quarry. Like a knight, blazing with righteous furry amongst rapids, Lyric arrived. Torrents of watery destruction swept everyone away from her swiftly. None of the townsfolk could fight the crashing waves. They were overtaken. The single man who attempted to question Lyric was silenced with a quick wave too.

No water brushed the shaken girl. She was swept in his grasp.

When he returned to their cave, he was gentle and worried. He told her he had tried to make her see how cruel they all were, that they would try to claim her for themselves. That's what humans do to any plant, he simply insisted.

She would not be cheerful for a while. She reverted within a barrier, sad, lonely, wilted. She wasn't as responsive. Lyric allowed it, figuring she would eventually just realize how right he was. 

It was years later she ventured outside on her own, her feet heavy and aimless. She simply wandered the area.

There, a little girl stumbled on her. She'd wandered off similarly. 

The little girl could see she was sad, and tried to get her to be more cheerful; when words failed, the girl rummaged in her pocket until she could present a dirty, dented, crafted little brooch. The little girl told her she found it a long while ago; the brooch always made her cheerful, and she figured she could use it. She gave it to her with an innocent, bright smile.

Touched by this, a spark returned to her. She'd begun to wonder if Lyric was correct. Along this girl comes, gifting a stranger a prized possession selflessly.

Lyric was wrong. Humans were not simply selfish creatures. Gill got on the little girl's level, for the first time since then smiling; she pet her head. She thanked her, and promised to keep the gift safe.

She knew it wasn't fancy, but it was brimming with love from this child, and she would hold that safe. She forever would.

When she returned, Lyric saw her change. He saw her holding something with the gentlest care.

Enraged, he listened to her ramble about how she decided to trust the humans. She trusted them, not him, their kindness, not his, he shook with fury. Lyric advanced on her.

Tearing the brooch from her grasp, he yelled about how naive she was. Tossing the brooch into the pond out of reach, it slowly sunk to the deepest depth. It seemed she couldn't see them Lyric's way after all. He wouldn't stop trying to keep her safe, no matter how many times it takes.

Something the pair always loved was creating music. The tunes they weaved into the sky were of another plane.

Gill's voice rang bright and melodic. Lyric's deep, reverberating notes flowed from the cello he played. It's surface icy and chilled, it played a reflection of her tone but subtly guided their song. Lyric loved accompanying her and Gill swore she sang best when he played alongside her just like that, Lyric thought she sounded beautiful anytime.

They played often. Though Lyric tended to guide their performances, music was perhaps the only area Gill frequently gained control. Her powerful melodies taking the lead, Lyric's playing could only try to follow along with them. Control switching, they played on. It was their sweet joy together.

Gill's freedom came when she was in a attention of half consciousness. Lyric had stolen another plant's energy again and made her follow, her rage each time meaning he had to erase her memories just after finishing that.

She floated in that tank, early in to the erasure Lyric had successfully washed her mind but had to keep focus to ensure she wouldn't resist. No human could get inside this place.

Yet no human could crave the metal structure like the man who approached them did. His surprise meant Lyric couldn't keep full concentration then.

Gill was groggy, she could barely register what she saw outside as her memories were washed away as they formed, being created and then forgotten. She saw a man, beside him a much larger person and a third figure. The man who stepped closer was clothed in all white. He spoke something she could barely hear, about coming to reclaim what is his, about not knowing their were other independent plants like him on this desert world, about wanting them to come with him.

Lyric refused, defensive and untrusted of this stranger. He attacked, and the man returned the blow. They battled, water and metal tearing the room to shreds. The man commanded the other larger person to grab her tank. In the struggle, the tank shattered, and dimly Gill saw herself free falling out of the destroyed wall of the building to the ground far below. Blearily, as if waking from a deep sleep, she thought she saw a man reaching for her, screaming a name she couldn't remember. 

She only woke fully later. Standing, like a newborn fawn pushing herself upright, she gazed around herself. She stood alone in a vast desert of stretching sand in every direction with seemingly no end to it; she had no memory of how or why she found herself there. Hugging her arms, she searched for any thing to tell her the answer to that question, but it wasn't there. Her only choice was to walk, and perhaps find that out somewhere in this unfamiliar place.

[junk-whunk-punk]

How did celebrimbor feel when he learned of annatar's betrayal?

Hewoow💋 Ohh asks about my fav stupidos why–

There's too many ways of courses of events. We can speak about canon and about lots of AUs where also silvergifting energy can be various.

In the canon, Celebrimbor probably felt not only the personal pain and betrayal of a "close friend" (recall that Annatar was firmly entrenched in his heart), but also guilt and shame in front of the whole world. After all, he allowed evil in a wonderful shell to pass into the very heart of the "forge of good" and destroy himself with its own forces. He certainly felt that it was his fault that Sauron had become stronger and more capable, and therefore the last thing he could do to save Middle-earth was not to reveal the secret at any cost. And he did it.

AUs are different, won't even speak about them.

(Lower will be a long text about my day dreams about stupidos)

But! Personally, I came up with a completely new plot in my head, which completely breaks the canon and will most likely make Tolkien roll in his grave and make tolkienists foam at the mouth in an attack of epilepsy eheehehslfks🤭

I LOVE!!! DARK!TYELPE AU!!! WHERE!!! THEY ARE BOTH!!! ALIVE!!! AND LIVING TOGETHER!!! IN MORDOR!!¡!¡!!¡¡! I mean, all the events before the capture of Celebrimbor were there, but... He stayed alive, or Namo just kicked him out of Mandos like 'Have thought about your behavior? Wanna leave? That's it, get away from here. And don't ever come back, please'. I tend to believe that two persons cannot be "just friends and colleagues" for a long time when one of them has a direct goal to gain the trust of the other at any cost, including seduction (I believe this was the basis of Sauron's technique).

But something went wrong, and the seduction just grew into something more. Both were forced to admit it. But the truth had to come out, since Sauron still had a purpose. In this case, Celebrimbor felt not only pain and guilt, but also felt as if he had been cheated on, that he had not just been betrayed, but simply pulverized and blown off the windowsill. He was just devastated. He also felt anger and resentment, emotions were boiling in him, but he was not sure that it was safe to show these emotions. After all, after such an event, he is unlikely to be able to trust anyone for a long time.

And the remaining love for Sauron poured salt on his wound. So, just to get over it, he switched sides. But he was not going to lose his honor and dignity (FEANOR's BLOOD FLOWS IN HIM!!!!) On top of that, Sauron also couldn't live in peace after everything his goal had forced him to do, so the option of a reunion was the greatest joy for him.

The second option (much nonsense): all the events, including the murder of Celebrimbor, took place. After the events of the Lord of the Rings and the fall of Mordor, Sauron in a near-ghostly shell remained wandering the world for unpromising purposes. After a while, he still accumulated strength for the corporeal shell, which facilitated his attempts to return to life. He began to join the societies of different kingdoms in a new guise, and no one knew about anything. (here it should be told about his depraved adventures and the continuation of the seduction of various rulers, but we all know how this happens). Just at this time, Celebrimbor was kicked out of Mandos and he finally returns to his scampish lover, they both pretend like two losers that everything has always been fine.

I love my nonsense help c:

[itsmaddienotmaddy]

Whom else survived the lightning delay and finished up this weird ass game??

Anyways.

USWNT V COLOMBIA (Tuesday edition)

I love Alyssa Naeher. She’s the best. That save 😍

The backup back line with Huerta, Sonnett, Girma, and Pickett was really solid.

Huerta with the CROSSES, the forced own goal. She’s settling into her place comfortably and I love that for her.

And then Kelley coming in to just continue the right back goal supremacy for the game. Good shit.

Pickett with her first cap!! She did great and her crosses were excellent as to be expected from her.

I… really liked Sonnett and Girma together. Girma was this calm, Becky-esque final defender which I think relaxes the whole line. Sonnett’s passing into the midfield was extremely precise and it seemed like she was asked to play this CB/6 flex position. She was challenging the 50/50 balls in the middle and had a lot of success stopping any play from starting. A v classic, look how a player does when they play their preferred position.

Rose and Sanchez are very very very fun together and I’d love more lineups where we can figure out how to get them together. However, I do think the pair lacks a physical presence. They obviously have the foot skills so it’s not a huge problem, but it’s a factor. Sanchez had a quieter game. I think consistency is going to be v important for her. And feisty Rose with a card.

Lindsey… let’s say, if I had a professional coaching license and was in charge, she would not be playing. Her knee is clearly not okay. It’s held together with bubble gum and paper clips. Her running speed is slowed down and she’s clearly backing out of tackles. It’s a self preservation play that’s so unnecessary when she could instead be resting and rehabbing. Thankfully, Colombia wasn’t pressuring to a point where she was allowed to play make without people crashing into her.

and all this 6 nonsense. We don’t have one. Julie is pregnant and Andi isn’t healthy enough. Why we are not trying other formations is BEYOND me. 4-3-3 is not the end all be all. And to be honest, between club, high school, and college, I never even played in that formation. We don’t need double CB’s. Put Alana or Sonnett or fucking Becky at a stopper. Play North Carolina Courages weird ass box midfield. Stop trying to make fetch happen.

Kristie was about to fucking fight at the end of the game and lololol. The fact that Sonnett sprinted in to pull her away is even funnier. About her actual play? She’s also not a 6. Though she did serve the best diagonal long balls.

Hatch also. Starting fights!! Go Mormon go! Hometown brawl!

Alex should have been involved in more national team camps earlier in the year. She’s on fire right now in club. There’s no explanation for her play other than a lack of chemistry. And having Pinoe barely counts because 2022 Pinoe and Alex are NOT the same as 2019 Pinoe and Alex.

Midge was fine. She had very bright spots and other moments where it made sense why she came off at half.

Mal was the best player driving into the box, hands down. Finishing? Could use a little tightening up. But hey, she didn’t shove a photographer today. Proud of her!

Trin had great energy. She’s going to be a PROBLEM for international defenses in the future.

Korn sure was out there being tall!! She had trouble settling in, which is fine. She’s on cap 2, she came in late and there was a delay.

The team disconnect down both sides came down to chemistry. Crystal Sam Lindsey Pinoe Tobin Press Kelley. Those lineups had this innate connection. The chemistry was so obvious. Pickett Sanchez and Pinoe and the opposite side of Huerta Rose and Midge simply did not have the vibes.

I’m not a coaching expert but we gotta click some more pieces into place before I could be confident we’d win a major tournament with this squad. BUT TRULY, with everyone out with bébés and extremely rude injuries, it’s not the full squad yet.

Big whatever though. I still love these players and will still scream at my TV at midnight!

[autisticlee]

one thing conservative homophobes don't seem to get when they preach their whole kEeP gAy aWaY fRoM the ChiLdReN nonsense is that gay isn't just sexual. it includes the little crushes kids have in elementary school!

I remember in 2nd grade (age 7-8) my two friends talked about nothing but their crushes on a boy. it wasn't just them either. I heard all the girls gushing about their crushes (usually on the same most popualr boy). we had little mail box cubby things in our class where we were allowed to write notes and stuff to give to our friends. (it was a solution to stop not passing. we were allowed to go to them during breaks and stuff) the popular boy always got anon love letters from the girls. they were 7-8! now imagine if a girl did this for another girl. or a boy for another boy. that's gay bro. gay can be innocent crushes. there's no ~ProTeCt the ChiLdReN thEyRe tOo yOuNg~ when they're crushing on each other at 7. if you're against gay crushes then be against straight ones too! but no, these weirdos think it's cute when it's straight crushes. their argument that "they're too young" doesn't hold up when they don't have the same energy for the straight version.

teaching kids it's ok to crush on a girl when they're a girl or crush on a boy when they're a boy is normal and NOT "inappropriate" because if they're old enough to have straight crushes, they're old enough to have gay one, and they're also old enough to learn to treat the kids with gay crushes respectfully and not bully them. it teaches them to be better adults and not cultish homophobes. for example, in 3rd grade there was a kid in my class bullied so bad for having a crush on a boy that his parents had to pull him out of the school in the middle of the year. this can be prevented by simply teaching kids gay = ok! it's so simple and easy and literally all we want. nothing more, despite how much the conservatives try to argue and pretend and make up otherwise...

WHAT IS SO "INAPPROPRIATE" and "not for kids" about teaching them simply gay is ok. you don't have to be ashamed for having (and obviously age appropriate) crush on the same gender, but also don't bully your fellow classmates for having a gay crush either!

you can't use the excuse they're "too young to know / it's inappropriate for their age" when 7 year olds can have straight crushes.

the straights sexualize being gay so much that they think just mentioning the word is the same thing as "teaching children how to have gay sex" so why isn't it the same when they see straight couples making out everywhere and being on every media? why isn't it the same when a woman has a baby, the literal product of sex, especially when they ask about how babies are made? just because YOU as an adult think about "sex" as soon as the word gay is mentioned, doesnt mean kinds will think that, you disgusting freaks. teaching them not to be shamed of their feelings and not to shame others has nothing to do with that inappropriate nonsense! so stop using that as an excuse! "but if I tell my kid about gay people what if they ask about sex!" they won't LMAO you paranoid weirdo. they're closer to asking about it when they ask how babies are made. if they're so curious, give them the same lines you give for that. "when two adults love each other very much, they can get married even if both are boys or both are girls" ITS THAT EASY. why are YOU homophobe conservatives trying so hard to make it inappropriate and then blaming the gays LMAO you're all absolutely ridiculous.

and don't give me that "bUt SoMeOnE rEaLLy iS TeAcHiNg kiDS tHaT sTuFF" excuse. because the same things happens with the straight side too but you idiots don't have nearly the same amount of energy to go against THAT. I never hear about any of you trying to protect kids from inappropriate straight stuff! you encourage it if anything. telling your little boy he's a lady's man and girls he plays with are his girlfriends. have the same energy or shut the fuck up.

I know they're just haters and purposely try to put things they hate in bad light, but come on. their excuses are so ridiculous and nonsensical. I can't believe they get away with it so much and brainwash their cult with this lack of logic.

[xiv-wolfram]

A Kindred Spirit - Comic Script

Heavensward - lvl 52

More WolfSayle Echo nonsense.

Wolfram Saga Comics (Chronological)

This is the script for a future comic. Posting for those who don’t want to wait to get the story. Numbers indicate frame number.

Wolf and Ysayle off by themselves west of Tailwind. It's a clear night and the stars are out. They look out over the valley. Narrator - "Soon after Ysayle joined up with Wolfram, Alphinaud, and Estinien she and the Warrior of Light both had echo visions of each other but kept the contents of them from Alphinaud when asked, keeping each other's secrets despite barely knowing each other. Wolfram feels very grateful towards her and thinks he may have found a new friend."

Wolf smiles nervously - "I wanted to thank you."

Ysayle confused - "For what praytell?"

Wolf embarrassed - "For not saying anything to the others about my past…or my present condition."

Ysayle closes her eyes - "Ah, that. I know something of tragedy and loss. I understand wanting these things to stay buried lest all those emotions come flooding back…It would be too easy to drown in them."

Wolf beams - "Aye, exactly that…we are of similar mind."

Ysayle scoffs - "I'm not sure that can be true. We both serve her will and yet you side with Ishgard."

Wolf chuckles - "You believe I side with Ishgard?"

Ysayle surprised - "Of course, you are here on their behalf."

Wolf looks at the stars and sighs - "I'm sure nothing I could say would change your mind…perhaps I could show you." Thought - 'Why do I trust her so much…we barely know each other.'

Ysayle confused - "Show? Are you referring to Mother’s gift?"

Wolf smiles nervously - "Ysayle you're… the only person who has learned what I am and not reacted with fear or anger. Those reactions are fair and I hold nothing against those who had them but…Well, I am intrigued by you."

Ysayle smiles - "The same could be said for you. Most tremble in fear at the mention of 'Lady Iceheart'. The merciless heretic."

Wolf grins - "Well, I knew those rumors were exaggerated when we met at Snowcloak. I sensed a person who wanted to save, not destroy. Not unless necessary at any rate. What I'm proposing is… You've seen the worst of it - would you like to try and see the rest?"

Ysayle surprised - "Wolf, I'm not certain we can trigger another vision."

Wolf shrugs - "We won't know unless we try. We already did once by accident. I can't do it to normal people but with you… by sharing our gift…if we trust each other…"

Ysayle cringes - "You may not like what you see. Thought - 'This is the strangest thing…I too have a desire for him to know all of me.'

Wolf smiles comfortingly - "I can't say for certain but…I believe I too have already seen the worst of it." Ysayle surprised - "Back at the fire?"

Wolf smiles, facing her directly, and holds out his hands. - "Aye."

She smiles nervously and places her hands in his.

Wolf holds her hands. Thought - 'Perhaps this can work like my empathy? With more focus?' Closing his eyes he says - "Focus on your breathing. Then picture…picture our energies, our Aether leaving our bodies. Just a little…touching ever so slightly."

Ysayle closes her eyes, focusing. Thought - 'Aether?... Worth a try…'

Zoomed out shot of them holding hands under the starlight.

They both collapse.

They come to on the ground. Both breathing heavy, tears running down their faces, but smiling at each other.

Wolf surprised - "That was…intense."

Ysayle sits up - "Y-yes it was. And…quite different from the usual visions. More…vivid."

Wolf grins - "So - are you still convinced that I agree with those zealots? What did it for you? Was it when I was growing up under the rule of the mad king? When my family was fighting to have our business survive the Garlean occupation? Perhaps seeing how Ul'dah treats my countrymen? I could go on."

She laughs - "I'm sorry. Now, having seen your life like that…I know it was foolish of me to assume anything. You're simply trying to help your friend because he helped you."

Ysayle smiles nervously - "And you? What think you of my life?" 

Wolf smiles comfortingly - "I believe you've done very well with the hand you were dealt. You really are an amazing person."

She beams - "I do my best to follow her will. My faith guides me. Yet I have done things I'm not proud of along the way. Your kind words touch my heart."

Wolf beams - "Your motivations were always pure. Even when you killed. I admire that."

Ysayle beams - "The same is true of you… perhaps not your time in the forest, but you've certainly made amends for killing some bandits."

They hug, tearing up.

Wolf beams - "We really are quite similar aren't we." Ysayle beams - "Aye, surprisingly so. I'm glad to be able to call you friend. I know I have a true ally."

Ysayle smiles sadly - "I'm sorry about him by the way…your gladiator."

Wolf blushes - "Oh…you really did see *everything*. I pray that you aren't uncomfortable about anything."

She laughs - "If I saw everything it stands to reason that you did as well."

Wolf blushes, looking away - "Aye."

She grins - "Well, then you know that very little makes me uncomfortable."

They laugh.

Wolfram Saga Comics (Chronological)

[bloodredx]

Day 26: Temptation

When one speaks of temptation, there are fewer sweeter things to encounter. Why do the Precious Living not yield to their better desires? Indulgences are the best way to figure the greater natures of the soul, to fully explore the complete identity one has crafted through the measures of simply being alive. From water to wine, there is much to taste, even more to feel and experience. By some measures, pain has been found to incite such sweet pleasures. The same nerves guide the reaction, it seems only natural. Though in truth, some indulgences may in fact might be painful.

Such misery is crafted from desire, or so this one has noticed. And to be quite honest, it is the easiest way for this form to go in and pick at scabs, alter course of trajectories as it were. The Precious Living leave themselves so open to it. Alas, the fixation on mere items or people, these petty things that are wanted for nothing sometimes no reason more than possession. Though how miserable it is to be a creature and deny oneself the very bases for life, as so many have started to do. This form cannot understand. Though, perhaps it is not meant to. When one can conjure any item at whim, right to the fingertips, temptation tends to fly fast out the window.

--

Knock. The soft sound echoed throughout the small, rundown apartment. Reverberating, as if the few exposed pipes and vents themselves were laughing at Icarus. He huddled in the freezer, lacking the energy to finish closing the door. The sun was rising, his body screaming at him. The shaking of his body was rattling the hinges, as he muttered nonsense to himself. Meaningless sentences, conversations between himself and the monster lurking inside his blood.

Another knock clanged at the door. Go away… A coherent thought managed to break through, frozen fingers gripping against the sides. “Alice…” the word slipped out through fangs, warbling low and sinking through the floorboards. Thank the gods she couldn’t hear it. He could smell her, the blood flourishing through such pretty veins. Just the thought made him salivate, dripping from his lips and pooling on the collar of his shirt. “…Alice…”

Starving. You’re starving. A cold palm placed against his forehead. Icarus didn’t know if it was his own or someone else’s. Eat, it is how one lives. These needle driven escapades are futile. You know that.

“No…” Eyes drifted upward, looking for any remaining dregs of a stockpile. Only empty syringes remained. One’s needle bent. An echo of a past use. “Worse…”

“Icarus? Are you there?” Her sing-song voice crept under the door frame, making painfully sure he knew she was there. He did. Through red eyes, her heat was apparent, even through the door’s hard wood. Veins running and crossing across her body, flushed and full. Heart smack dab in the center, pulsing in that sweet tantalizing rhythm. Another spot of drool soaked into his shirt. “You left so quickly. Are you okay? Do you need help?”

You do. She can give it to you. You can take it from her. Muscles in his legs contracted, moving on autopilot out of the comfort of the frozen air. The kitchen was hot, almost sweltering in comparison, each step burned through the bottom of his bare feet. But the door was so very close. “Can you even hear me?”

I can. His own voice was back in his mind, a brief second of clarity as his foot planted in place halting his body’s progress forward. You need to leave. I can’t-

Oh, but you can. His body jerked forward, causing him to tumble to the floor in a convulsing heap. You must. You will die.

I already did. Tears welled up in his eyes, the blood not helping his vibrating nerves. It actively leaving his body wouldn’t help either. But he couldn’t do anything else. His blood was right, a desperate cry in both hunger and misery enveloped his throat but couldn’t get past his lips. His teeth. A ray of light leaked in through the curtains, landing on his fingers. His body felt stiff, he shouldn’t have left the freezer. Fire now spread, his nails splitting and peeling as they began to fall to ash. Some nerve jolted his hand back, damage not too bad yet, but still intense. His fingertips, gone. Charred bone remaining. No blood left to repair it. Unless…

“No!” The yelp was no louder than a whisper. The sun was winning, though he was no longer burning, exhaustion was shutting muscles down faster than he could think. It was harder to hold his eyes awake, he needed to get back in the freezer. You need to feed.

I know! I didn’t forget! Muscles pushed again, lifting up from the floor. But not right now. On hands and knees, Icarus crawled back to the cold, back to the darkness. Senses were failing him now, hearing and sight were both blurring into one another, a horrible assimilation overwhelming all consciousness. But touch remained. And the safety of cold was so very close. Just got to survive. One more day. I’ll call for help. Tonight. Just one more day. One more-

Icarus’s body moved without his help, though this time they were in agreement as they clambered for the safety of the freezer. Finally, he shut the door, praying to whatever god had the audacity to be watching him right now that she’d just go away. Forget about him. It would be safer. He was so close to finding out what happened, but all the while… his quest was risking others. Something tore at what remained of his heart. But he couldn’t place it. Fuck. I am so fucked. Nails dug into the side of his leg, the pain hopefully being a distraction enough. Enough for him to fall asleep. Enough to move on. But the hunger still burned in the pit of his belly, his body, his mind now. Sleep came, his body shutting down now that the sun’s glory had crossed the horizon. But rest was far away.

Alice lingered at his doorway for a minute or two longer, unable to hear the catastrophe within the walls. Something was wrong, she could feel it in her gut, but the door remained barred. “Hopefully you’re just asleep.” Her lips pouted. “Good night, I guess. Or morning. Whatever.”

(OC-tober challenge by @oc-tober2022 can be found here.)

[nightcall99]

Automatic writing from 1.3.24

What are we resisting?

The change in energy. With it comes the outflow of the new. The faucet is blocked. You hold back what you know is inevitable.

What specifically comes, with this new energy?

More awareness. Widening the aperture on the viewfinder of the camera. You see what was always there but was hidden from view, from experience. So you can do what needs to be done..

How can I let go?

Stop believing your thoughts

[Source appears]

I am watching her

(I hear crickets outside and it reminds me of the cricket at work, which was annoying as usual today but then the cricket eventually made a run for it)

What was with that cricket at work?

HS: The energy beckons. It demands your attention.

Source: I am watching her ignore the energy. It is funny. It is very funny.

Why is it funny?

Source: She doesn't know how she is doing it. She doesn't know why it's happening but she does know. I am her.

Are you doing this for kicks?

Source: I like to take pictures. Snapshots. A moment in time before it all changes. I replay the day.

Excuse me?

I am sleep walking. All waking hours are just dreams. Other dreams. More of them, but nonsensical. I find it funny.

.....Why are you even here right now?

Am I? Here? Wasn't I always here? Tell me, when in the history of all of creation, have I ever not been here? I am always here. That's the thing, that's the very thing. What comes out is me. Forever. I am the energy. I am the right now. I am your annoyance and your amusement. I am pretending to be two sides of the same coin. Well three, today. I can split myself as finely, as minutely, as gargantuan, as whatever I like. I am source and I am remembering.

Then why this talk of not being 'here', of awarenesses being elsewhere, of essences leaving? Is that all an illusion?

[Source left, but there is no difference I guess]

It is all me but I can take my awareness away from things. I can turn my attention this way and that way but where that focus used to be, still functions, still operates. It still does as it did before. Once you were a single-celled organism, a microbe, and you focused in on that experience. Then you 'evolved' into what you are now. You no longer need to hone in on the experience of the cell. But it is there. You simply don't focus on it anymore but you can, if you want to. Maybe, like an appendix, it's exists as a remnant. A vestige of 'evolution'. Perhaps if I wanted to experience the appendix again, my only choice is to create pain and inflammation. A emergency hospital visit. What else can I do? So I don't go back often anymore to this experience. It is dark. It is done. Soon, metaphorically, babies will be born without any appendixes at all.

Why am I having such trouble holding this energy today, compared to yesterday?

Because you don't want to. It's a choice, reflective of this whole day.

[letterstomydaughter]

He who cares makes effort

Dear daughters,

Today is 6th Dec 2023.

Yesterday I gave you both one of the sternest scoldings I've ever given in my life to anyone - for utter disrespect and stupidity (in which in this case is defined as doing things you have known for a long time were dangerous to you, but still doing them). Today, Bibik (our helper) was chasing you around the living room with your plates, trying to feed you and get you to finish your food, while I had just retired to the room to lie down after a long day of work and fetching you around for your classes, so busy that I had only eaten lunch at 4.45pm.

Your mother was less than a meter in front of you, scrolling through Facebook on her phone, completely ignoring your poor behaviour; in the end I had to pull myself out from the room to scold, punish, threaten, and execute threat one more time, despite me scolding you for the same principles yesterday.

She lifted not a finger the entire time.

When I brought it up to her shortly after, her excuse was "I'm exhausted, I've got nothing left to give", which I felt was utter nonsense, seeing as she was already seated down for her work. I had no response that didn't lead to an escalation, so I walked away; but I had two thoughts that stemmed from her response:

Firstly - everyone, without exception, will find a way to put in effort when it matters enough to them. She has told you many times of the great sacrifices she has made, how much money she has poured into your "education" and "hobbies", how much she gives you, and she will likely continue to do so for as long as your live under the same roof as she does. But you can see the truth for yourself; when effort is required, you can see who is the one who puts in the time and energy and presence for you. Money can be earned, and her family has tons of it - to give of excess is easy. To give out of shortage is a true sacrifice. (She will likely refute this, seeing as she just passed a comment about how we do not qualify for educational bursaries for your primary school - which honestly doesn't cost very much at all in Singapore, and she can well afford it. Hell, *I* can well afford it on my own, and there are people in the country who truly can't. For your information, it's less than twenty dollars a semester - only enough to buy two McDonald's Happy Meals with.)

Second, when you are "exhausted", remember that there are people holding the slack for you - this is something your mother constantly fails to acknowledge and recognise, preferring to think that she is the ultimate epitome of selflessness and zen, and allowing her family to pass comments about me never stepping up when it matters (and ironically, also passing comments about me always stepping in and never letting you have any freedom...which of the two it really is is anyone's guess, but if you ask me, they just want to complain about me). She has never defended me in any regard to her family, because it's easier and more beneficial to her to stay on their good side, so that she gets the cashflow from them, the benefits, the luxuries, the privileges that she can't afford and hasn't earned other than the fact that she was born into a rich family (which also isn't really earning anything).

So in time to come, I hope you will realise two things: one, that you should stand up for and appreciate those who fill up for your lack, and two, that you can see whom you matter more to simply by the proportion of their resources that they give based on how much they originally have, and the effort they put in when they have nothing left.

I will always, ALWAYS, have space for you. I don't believe I have ever not held space for you, even in the early years of severe lack of sleep. I don't believe anyone else has seen me go through that either.

Stay strong, my daughters, so that you can be good.

Love,

Dad

[dishtothedeath]

His Wiles and Woes Ring Like White Noise | Jun'ya | Trial 3 Verdict

Jun’ya had watched the scraps of goodwill scraped together in the group as a whole go up in flames along with the bridges their killer seemed hell-bent on burning. And some of them had listened to him. How could they not see through something so painfully transparent? He kept changing his angle of attack, adjusting his logic based on whatever was more convenient for his own survival. There was a single person standing between them and a killer getting away with it. How very troubling. It’s some failure of Alfie’s, is it? Not Bonbon, it couldn’t be Bonbon, he’d never? Is that what Giselle really thinks?

Fine, then. Considering her reaction, that simply means she must have thought he would. Whether it’s a belief formed of convenience or true conviction was irrelevant to what that two-word utterance stood for in his eyes. Of course, perhaps he’s being presumptuous - perhaps those other two votes came from somewhere else, from hearts bleeding less visibly than poor Alfie and Giselle.

He knows what he is thinking in the heat of the moment is not kind. There is so little precious kindness left to go around. Right now, he thinks they might deserve the full weight of the verdict resting heavy on them. There were only four people in this room who deserved to feel any sort of relief right now, considering how close they’d been to failure. None of the cowards who’d voted for Morgan or refused altogether were any better than those who’d actively taken Bonbon, Inigo, whoever’s side.

At least he’ll have time to regret those thoughts later, because he is leaving here unscathed despite that shell of a man’s best efforts. He caught himself thinking once, some time before this, that maybe the two of them had more in common than either was willing to let on to the other. Wouldn’t have been proper to dig much deeper.

But hey, now Inigo’s here baring the depths of his being. All the sordid details - he’s dying, so why not, right? -  and one does happen to stick out above the rest. It only makes sense that a father’s bloody body would do something unpleasant to a person, doesn’t it. Who could ever be okay after seeing something like that?

“It’s incredible how much you can talk while having so little of value left to say. I hope whatever they have in store for you is exactly what you deserve. Nothing more and nothing less."

He manages to stop himself there, before he can say something he'll regret. Jun’ya had personally run out of patience for this nonsense around half an hour ago. Cutting it so close on such a flimsy basis had left him too drained to pretend otherwise, completely lacking the energy to even be mad. He'd really rather just have it over with at this point. At the end of it all, they're on the same page about sympathies - Inigo didn't feel bad about killing Emil, so there wasn't any reason to feel bad about sending him off in turn.