#I refuse to diminish their accomplishments

[romantichore]

a student of mine brought her best friend's sketchbook for me to see today. it was at the bestie's request, because she was my student almost five years ago. back in the day she was an 8-year-old drawing mostly poop and toilet paper rolls, but she enjoyed drawing and after the first time I showed interest on it she started showing me more of what she drew.

she's getting so good at it. she's been clearly studying anatomy though she still tends towards less realistic styles. she draws little comics about her and her best friend's ocs. she's been exploring other mediums too, like watercolors instead of just pencil.

now I'm sitting here and holding back my tears because I am so, so proud. I remember sitting with her after class a handful of times because she had a new drawing to show me. once or twice we stayed late because she missed her mom and she just needed to cry about it, and we chatted about what she'd been drawing while we waited for her grandma to pick her up.

I don't think she remembers any of it, and it's okay. I'm just so glad she didn't quit it. and I'm so thankful that she trusted me not to be a dickish adult about it. she's even been open, they both have, about the fact that they're on that teenage girl into gay ships phase. they had no way of knowing I'm queer, because talking about anything lgbt+ is a no-no, but they trusted me anyway.

I hope it all means I've been doing something right. and I hope I get to see other sketchbooks as she progresses.

[ceasarslegion]

I know this is like. An unpopular stance to have (as if i dont have enough of those) but i wish we could just bring back terms like "loser" and phrases like "suck it up" instead of pretending that one's circumstances are never ever their own fault and it's always something else.

And before you start claiming things about my politics here, i am very much not saying that homeless people ever deserve to be homeless or that racial, gender, disability, and general minority discrimination doesn't exist in the world and the workplace.

What I am saying is that I have experienced a few too many people who just. Seem to absolutely refuse to help themselves and then blame it on the economy, or their identity, calling their parents loaded terms like "abusive" for asking their adult children still living in their childhood bedrooms if theyre going to at least try to get a job or improve their circumstances. I've experienced a few too many folks who just give up and roll over the second something is a little uncomfortable or scary that they could have accomplished if they well, sucked it up, and then go on to complain about how its all the fault of other things.

I'm not saying it's not hard. I'm not saying there aren't other factors that may make it harder for you to do. I'm not saying that your worth as a person is diminished if you don't do x.

I'm saying that if you don't even fucking TRY the moment it's not handed to you by others anymore, it's a little misguided to always blame the resulting lack of social mobility and accomplishment on other people and things, and it's a bit presumptuous to act like you are never at any fault for your own circumstances just because of [insert factor here]. I hate to break this to you but youre going to have to put effort into your life if you want it to get better. That doesnt mean its always going to work out but if you dont even try because you give up the moment it gets hard then well. The last thing i want to hear from you is constant complaining about circumstances youre doing nothing to improve

[tactfullyinappropriate]

This is part rant, part sex advice so read at your own discretion. Also one of those posts I'll get a lot of flak for.

In lesbian nsfw content on tumblr dot com one of the most prevalent sentiments is 'I want to pleasure my partner' (insert any variation on it) which is fair and all, and there are a lot of service tops around so it makes sense really. But. For some of us who have difficulty experiencing orgasm or even enjoying sex at all, making our pleasure the focal point of the experience is the absolute worst thing you could do.

It's a nice sentiment, I guess, but if it doesn't actually produce pleasure, is it really that nice? And before you come at me with 'some people really are just service tops and they get their pleasure from pleasuring their partner' - I get it, I do. As a top (or dom/me) you have the right to your preferences and you may absolutely refuse to tell your partner 'Your orgasm is inconsequential, I'm gonna fuck you anyway'. Not to mention that approach is verging on kinky and getting near mindfuck territory, which not every top (as in the person doing the penetration in this case) is comfortable with. Heck, not every dom/me is comfortable with that either - pretending to disregard your partner's pleasure can be a particular flavor of kink not everyone is into.

Buuut.. a lot of what I'm seeing here comes across more as a lack of real-world experience rather than a self-aware preference to focus on your partner's pleasure. Like for example, the amount of 'overstimulation' posts I'm seeing is just wildly disproportionate compared to the amount of women who can be forced to orgasm again and again, and again. This has never been my experience on either side of the dynamic, nor the experience of any of my friends or acquaintances. More often than not, women have trouble reaching a climax and can't really be "forced" into it.

Orgasms are not just a bodily sensation triggered by a certain type of mechanical stimulation. They require you to be in the right headspace as well. So if you actually want to bring about an orgasm, dropping the pressure may be (I want to say usually is) your best bet.

Look, I get it. I've been with women who come from a 2-minute clit rub. I didn't feel particularly accomplished with them... but they do exist! How wonderful for them and the people who just love pleasuring them. The rest of us however? 'Your pleasure is my pleasure' is the worst approach with us. Like, thanks, now if I don't come not only am I bruising your ego but also diminishing your pleasure? That's A LOT of pressure put on my fickle mental focus and unreliable vagina.

All of this is to say: it's fine to have your fantasies of overstimulating a partner to the point of incoherence. But be prepared that the reality of sex may be very, very different depending on how your partner's body and mind work. And sometimes, if your partner's pleasure really is that important to you, pretending it's the complete opposite might be the key to the castle - if you can get with that of course. Nothing's done a better job at helping me let go and experience actual pleasure than a partner's response to my 'I'm not sure if I can come though...':

"That's okay, baby. I don't need you to come for me to enjoy your body."

Um. Yes, Sir.

*I use the word 'woman' here purely based on my actual real-life experience so far but I'm sure this is applicable to a number of different identities. Even for some cis men orgasms are not as easy and effortless as porn makes it seem, I've been told.

[deathlessathanasia]

I've talked about this before, but I feel the need to do it again.

It is not that I am a big fan of incest or anything (and they are gods! Why even care about the incest anyway?), but it is actually important that Hera is also the sister and not just the wife of Zeus. It is actually important that she is called “the most glorious child to issue from crafty Kronos and mother Rhea” (Homeric Hymn 5), “eldest/most revered daughter of Kronos” and “august goddess, daughter of great Kronos” (the Iliad), “the supreme celestial goddess, daughter of Kronos” (Pindar Pythian 2). It is not for nothing that Hera emphasises her birth and not just her marriage when talking to Zeus: “And yet my labor must not be rendered worthless; for I too am a god, and my parentage is from the same place as yours, and devious Cronus bore me to be his most revered/eldest (πρεσβυτάτην) daughter. For both these reasons, my birth and also because I am called your wife, and you are lord among all the immortals.” (Iliad IV) or “I—who claim to be the best/noblest (ἀρίστη) of the goddesses, both by birth and because I am called your wife, and you are lord of all the immortals.” (Iliad XVIII).

“It is not possible, nor is it seemly to refuse your request; for you sleep in the arms of almighty Zeus.”, Aphrodite tells Hera in Iliad XIV, but a few lines earlier she also says: “Hera, eldest goddess, daughter of mighty Cronus, speak what you will; my heart compels me to accomplish it, if I am able to accomplish it, and if it can be accomplished.”

To change her parentage because eww, incest! is to diminish her status, to accentuate the already existing power imbalance between her and Zeus even more, and to make her authority depend primarily if not solely on her marriage.

And of course this doesn't just apply to Hera, because family connections are meaningful for all the gods. Demeter is so closely associated with her mother Rhea that they can even be identified with each other. It does say something that Gaia, Rhea and Demeter are some of the only four or so goddesses in Hesiod's Theogony who are given the title “mother”. Persephone was not just some irrelevant flower goddess until Hades made her important and respected, she was the daughter of the king of the gods. To take away their connections (and only theirs; nobody ever seems to change Hades' parentage) just because you are uncomfy with Persephone being married to her uncle is just... weird, not particularly interesting, and certainly not inherently less problematic.

[janthewriter]

I Am Tired

I am tired of feeling unloved.

I do not think anybody could ever love an unusual creature of perpetual habit like me. Only can they become intrigued with fascination of the unknown. Digging and prodding, only to yield no answers, fueling their anger until they move on to next best thing of existence, one that will gift them with the satisfaction they do hungrily desire.

I am tired of feeling this way.

My mind takes me to the dungeons of a Victorian castle in some frightful place unknown. Even the moonlight raises no hope against this stand of darkness within. I can never seem to escape the shackles. I must free myself. I must free my brain from it’s cranium. And then maybe I will finally be set free at last.

I am tired of the hollow emptiness.

It almost feels as if there is nobody else out here in this void of darkness. I call out, echoes of silence are my only answer in return. I turn mute. Only to match the peaceful, yet painful silence, that I am forever engulfed in.

I am tired of feeling trapped.

I wish I could free myself from this labyrinth, that I somehow found myself stumbling into. The birdcage in my chest that encloses a beautiful bluejay, feels punctured with every breath, being poked and prodded for amusement.

I am tired of breathing.

I breath, just for the oxygen to be sucked out of my lungs through the mouth of a lover, into the infinite space unknown. It is pointless, I shall take shallow breaths until my breathing diminishes altogether; this way it can never be stolen at the hands of a thief needy for more, again.

I am tired of seeing the good.

It becomes painfully hard to see the good, when I can only feel the bad. My eyes are the most diligent. They never fail at accomplishing to deceive me with enticements that are almost up for no refusal. I know better to believe the sweet lies that my eyes show me, telling me all is well. Almost nothing in this world is.

I am tired of fighting.

I am strong and indestructible, until I am not. I become so weak and fragile that with every step I take, my bones creak, revealing my hand of vulnerability. My armor has become too heavy, my arms to weak. Tears cascade down the calming silver onto the battle ground. Fighting has become pointless. It is not in my favor. But someone must win the battle. This war must end eventually.

I am tired of only being seen externally.

My body has nothing left to give. I have ripped every organ out with my bare hands, just to serve them on a silver platter to the greedy. I have given almost everything away, but no one has accepted my heart yet. Seek pity on me and just take what’s left of my heart and make it yours.

I am tired of this torturous day to day life.

A good day only seems to stare at me with wide eyes, extending it’s hand. I reach out in acceptance, thinking greatness is to be bestowed upon me, at last. I am deceived into receiving the small left over bread crumbs called inconvenience. I watch as the the latter is passed on to the next one in line awaiting the opportunity of delight.

I can’t do this much longer.

I am just really really tired.

~Jan

[foursaints]

taking notes, nodding thoughtfully while reading your lily thoughts and I realized I struggle to understand her as a character because everything she is in canon is so muddied by who she is in relation to everyone else. I want her to have a hermit era where she locks herself in her apartment every night learning some new little craft just for the satisfaction of mastering it and I want her to have a going out era where she’s at the bars every weekend and everyone’s watching her but she only dances with her friends and always goes home alone. Like I need to her to live her best life outside of who she is to other people, and see how that’s realized for her. What crafts would she learn behind closed doors, what’s her getting ready routine?

I’ve had friends who feel very much defined by who they are to other people and the expectations surrounding them and it’s interesting to question their conception of themselves - a lot of times, I’ve found they don’t have the words to describe themselves without invoking other people’s opinions of them, even if it’s just an attempt to diminish the reality of those opinions (ex. “I’m not *that* good at piano” etc etc). I want to know how Lily would describe herself and what she sees when she looks back on her accomplishments.

anyways. thank you always for your thoughts 💕

this is such a beautiful message, it’s so thoughtful and well-put. i agree that i find her challenging to pin down because she only (canonically) exists in relation to others but that struggle is what always brings me back to her…

i tend to see lily as profoundly lonely but in a secret way that only makes her more Singular. i think her private life (her getting ready routine!! her daily rituals!!) is extremely well-cultivated because she is used to being misunderstood/projected on but it’s the fact that she appears so self-sustaining that gives her that special halo she has. lily always has little private things it seems she’s doing just for herself (it’s to make the daily experience of Being Herself feel more bearable… she’s trying to assert borders on the nothingness by giving herself Things Lily Does) but it makes others want to watch her and guess at what she’s thinking.

the flipside of this question, to me, is also that it is addictive to be loved in the way that lily is. she doesn’t have a clear picture of who she is (profoundly lonely also means empty) and it can be freeing to have an outsider offer a flattering one for you: when she’s the object of love, she’s a beautiful intelligent witch and even apparent flaws like her temper become charming & palatable facets of this picture. it feels really good to be that girl.

i think it’s less a question of expectations and more one of definitions. her relationship with petunia interests me the most because her sister refuses to see her as Special, and if lily isn’t Special then she’s nothing at all. and that’s really horrifying but it’s also part of her reality.

to me, what happened to her (dying young and getting made into a saint, essentially) is the best thing that could have happened - because she in a sense escaped her own self and Became “that girl” permanently in collective memory. i think she’s pathologically committed to her own self-mythologizing and that’s an answer itself.

[kidgillis]

Darling, I refuse to pretend to be someone I'm not. I won't lie about where I am, what I'm doing, or what I'm going through. I refuse to lower my standards or abandon my beliefs. I won't diminish my personality, undermine my accomplishments, or dismiss my successes. I am enough.

[theweeklydiscourse]

One of the most annoying things about Show!Alina is the way she’s used as a mouthpiece for the writers to convey their half-baked takes on her relationship with Aleksander.

They do everything they can to diminish the emotional resonance of their dynamic and in turn, make Alina into a callous and emotionless heroine. This is accomplished through her dialogues with Aleksander, where she will fiercely contest his points with remarks about how little she needs him and will act as though the connection they shared never happened.

If the Shadow and Bone show was going for an abuse narrative where Alina falls victim to his manipulation only to rise triumphantly later on, they utterly failed. Because when the writer’s are so eager to distance Alina from her feelings for Aleksander, they obliterate any potential emotional complexity that could have arisen from such a dynamic. In abuse narratives, the victim ideally should have some emotional stake in the abusive situation and for Alina that has yet to be seen. When Alina turns on Aleksander, there is no hesitation even though there should be considering that they use his betrayal and supposed violation as an emotional linchpin in season two.

“You may have needed me, but I never needed you”

Powerful line right? Except it isn’t backed up by any instances where Aleksander might have tried to get Alina to “need” him or “depend” on him to an unhealthy degree. Aleksander could have a moment where he uses Alina’s low self-esteem to his advantage and expressed doubt in Alina’s ability to use her powers independently. Perhaps, he could have trained her himself and gotten her to depend on his amplifying abilities as a crutch, so that she would always lean on him. Something like that would have justified a line like this and made it even more powerful. Crazy what can happen when you thoroughly plan the details of your story and actually follow through.

But really, it is because the writers are too hesitant to convey the complex emotional reality of the Darklina relationship. They want Alina to be a powerful badass who undergoes an emotional character arc, but at the same time refuses to let her be vulnerable when it comes to Aleksander. It really does erase the nuance that Alina had in the books in favour of your typical unfeeling heroine in a fantasy series.

[bunkahi]

[MAJOR SPOILERS] up to the end of 6.0: Elidibus knew the future, and how translation harmed it's impact.

I posted this on twitter, but almost no one saw. As such I'm uploading it here, not only because I can go into more detail, but because I think this is one of the most important aspects to Elidibus' character that I never see anyone talk about.

Elidibus knew the future. This has been DIRECTLY stated since 2.55... but what you may not know is that this has been indirectly hinted at (more explicitly in Japanese) since Elidibus' first appearance in 2.1. In this sickly written 'essay,' I will be sharing with you all an incoherent babble of Elidibus' story, along with major changes in the English translation that diminish the legitimacy that he knew the future before becoming Zodiark.

Please note: Tl;dr version is at the bottom, for this post IS long. Tl;dr implores you to at least look at the images provided below.

Let us begin not at 2.1, but rather 5.3. The most important translation difference in my personal opinion. It is your climb up the crystal tower, and Elidibus stands before it's throne. As he awaits your arrival, he ponders the crystal in his hand. The crystal of the Exarch's memories... memories of a possible future.

For those who may not be able to see the images above, I will summarize the difference. While most of the translation is the same between Japanese and English, there is one major difference.

In both versions, Elidibus looks at the Crystal and calls it worthless. A possible future is the same as the past. It is fated to fray, fade, and disappear. In English he follows this with "Leaving naught but a gaping void..." Meanwhile, in Japanese he says "Within me as well... could such a thing have once dwelled, I wonder?" (keep in mind I'm trying to keep the translation here as exact as I can, including the awkward structure, as I want it to be easy for people to compare my translation to the original text.)

I think this is very... very interesting. While I, at times, adore Square Enix's liberties in translation (otherwise we would not have the absolute banger “The rains have ceased, and we have been graced with another beautiful day. But you are not here to see it.”), I think this was an interesting moment to take liberties.

What's done is done however, my main focus on this essay is not to criticize the translations though. It is just to inform what I believe is true about Elidibus' character. As such, I will no longer be addressing translation differences beyond providing them for context.

So let us move on to discuss the very interesting implications this has, using the short story "Ere Our Curtain Falls"

English version: "Will you not look at your crystal?" I asked.

When Elidibus was still Elidibus and Lahabrea still Lahabrea, we had collected all of our memories of the Fourteen and committed them to crystal, that those who would take our seats one day might learn. Elidibus would, I was sure, find much within to help him remember─yet he shook his head.

"I am Elidibus. So long as I remember my duty, that is enough. Aught else I would only lose again in the course of this timeless struggle...and if these memories are truly so precious, pray do not ask that I forget them twice."

The last part in Japanese: "I am Elidibus, and I remember what I need to do, and how to accomplish it. That is enough. Even if I remember this or that, I will lose it again in this continuing battle. If it is an important memory, don't make me forget over and over again."

(Link to Japanese story, which you can switch into English, at least on desktop, at the top right of the page)

Elidibus thinks a crystal that holds memories of a possible future is worthless... and he refuses to look at his own memory crystal... how interesting... very very interesting.

As a quick refresher of the important things that occur next: You fight Elidibus and put him in the crystal tower. The final days begins again. Left with no one else to turn to, we go to speak to Elidibus at the crystal tower. He remembers us in the past, and knows where he must send us... which is something that can only be done THANKS to him being sealed in the crystal tower.

And now I feel we can move on to OUR beginning of Elidibus, aka 2.1. Though there is a LOT of text that I feel should not have been altered, I only translated what I feel matters most to me. A specific piece of information that had it's implications completely altered, and the implications that Elidibus goes out of his way to TEACH Minfilia about the ascians.

(I will only transcribe the translation.)

"Was I not passed down in folklore? Well, it has been thousands of years since I last appeared in this world. Can't be helped. You all are the ones who defeated the priest of the abyss. I thought you understood a few things about us but...

We are immortal beings. When we posses a person, even should you destroy the dark crystal, our existence won't be destroyed.

I am the mediator. I have no desire to fight you all. Today, I came only to tell you that. Let us meet again."

Kiiiiind of strange that he would just casually tell us that they can't be defeated like that. What is there to gain in giving away such a secret? Perhaps he's cocky... or perhaps there's more.

to recap what matters in the next patch, 2.2: The sahagins are preparing to summon Leviathan. Y'shtola spies on them, and hears them speak of how they're going to ascend in power (a parallel to things Elidibus said to Minfilia.) We decide to investigate, and witness the Sahagin priest ascend into "immortality," before watching his essence be absorbed within Leviathan, with him questioning why the emissary/white robed one seemed to have tricked him.

Now keep in mind, before this patch, it's already established that Lahabrea is the one to promote primal summonings, AND that Lahabrea is back. What reason would Elidibus have to no only promote the summoning of Leviathan, but to risk teaching immortality to the Sahagin priest, especially when he KNOWS the scions are in direct opposition to not only to the ascians but to primals? And for this to be one of the first things he does, after thousands of years of not appearing in our world, and AFTER he approaches Minfilia to speak of seemingly only non-sense. What, oh what could be the purpose?

"My power... it's being taken... I'm being absorbed by the great water god? Did I... not become... immortal? White robed one... what... is this?!"

It is thanks to this "slip" in Elidibus' decision making that we learn that the ascians are in fact NOT immortal. They are simply beings of aether that have not dispersed. They can be ABSORBED within something, and when that something is destroyed, they don't return. It is directly thanks to Elidibus doing this that we learn not only how to defeat him and his brothers... but also that we can seal him away in the crystal tower.

Surely this is just coincidence, right? There's just no way. Clearly this is all set up to be a piece of sad, tragic irony right?

I take us now to the very final cutscene of 2.55. Though there are differences in translation, I find them mostly negligible. As such I will speak referencing the English translation.

The final cutscene features Lahabrea and Elidibus. Elidibus appears within Lahabrea's shadow to speak of Nabiales' death before the camera changes, placed in a cage and peering into the other side where Lahabrea and Elidibus stand. The bars of the cage separate them, though the darkness makes it hard to see.

Elidibus says that the warrior of light is becoming too strong. That they must make haste to stop them. He suggests Lahabrea head to the northern lands, and Lahabrea agrees and departs.

Urianger appears from the dark behind Elidibus, wishing to know why he has been summoned. To which, Elidibus says the he wishes to speak of fate.

Now why does he do this? As a reminder of what comes next: We defeat Lahabrea, Igeyorhm, and Thordan. This leads to there being no calamity on the source ready to absorb the 1st after it succumbs to light, and the Garleans having access to Azys Lla, meaning they have direct access to the warring triad.

All of this happens at the very end 3.0. However, this conversation between Urianger and Elidibus happens in 2.55. Even should you try to argue that it doesn't take place exactly when it's shown to us, it does HAVE to happen before the mid point of 3.0 at a minimum considering Lahabrea is obviously alive in this cutscene, and more than likely happens before you cross the bridge into Ishgard.

The only thing left to truly note when it comes to this topic is that all of this is reinforced in 3.1 with cutscenes in the Great Gubal Library (2nd to last cutscene of the patch)

"This is thy proof? The Gerun Oracles? Apocrypha."

"Our fates were ordained long ago, Archon. The Garleans are no exception. Nor the Triad. You know what must be done.

In conclusion, Elidibus knew Lahabrea would fail, and that he would need Urianger for not only the warring triad, but to get Minfillia to stop the flood of the first. It was a fate ordained long ago, for we are in a soft timeloop.

Now you may ask, how can you explain him knowing to do this despite his memory loss? If this is all the case, why does he fight us at the crystal tower so genuinely? To be blunt, I cannot give you a direct answer, outside of what is stated above. Elidibus seems to know on SOME level 'some' kind of goal. Specifically saying "I know what I need to do, and how to accomplish it."

Does he directly state what this goal is? No. Ultimately everything above can only be counted as speculation, but personally, I am of the mentality of "why show us this if it's not meant to mean something? Why does Elidibus do something that has already been established as another character's role? Why would THIS be the first thing he does in our world for thousands of years? Why have a character do this if it's not meant to mean something? Especially when THIS something (teaching immortality) leads to the DIRECT consequence of being sealed in the crystal tower, which is our ONLY way to go THAT far into the past to know about Meteion?"

When did he learn the future? That also would be speculation, but as Emet-Selch states, the memory crystals were made before the Zodiark's summoning. If they are truly eluding to his crystal holding memories of a possible future, and the Japanese version of Ere Our Curtain Falls specifically states that he's been losing himself and his memories since the moment he fell from Zodiark to help the convocation, then chances are high it's before the summoning. Who told him would be pure speculation, but the most likely answer is either Venat, Azem, or the Warrior of Light. And before anyone brings this up, no, I do not believe the writers are going to drop every character related to Zodiark and Hydaelyn just because we're moving on to a new chapter. The consequences of the past will continue into the future. While the ancients may no longer be the FOCUS of the story, I doubt we're never going to see them or interact with the past ever again. They will more than likely be explored further in side content ([SPOILERS FROM DAWN TRAIL TRAILER] given Solution 9 has text in Proto-Alphabet, aka the alphabet of the ancients... yeah... um... don't think our explorations related to the ascians and the past are over.) [SPOILERS OVER]

Now, I still haven't worked on translating 4.X, so I will make no comments towards it and any information it might hold in terms of Japanese Elidibus' views on not only the world, but of the future. Perhaps when I have time to translate it I will make a follow up post. I will also be posting some of my smaller translations from twitter to tumblr in time.

Tl;Dr: Elidibus thinks a crystal of a possible future is worthless. He refuses to look at his own crystal. Because his crystal was made before the sundering, he knew the future at least before that point.

Elidibus taught us indirectly how to seal away ascians, and summons Urianger to help him before there is even a CHANCE of knowing he'd need him unless he knew the future.

With this in mind, it's clear to me that Elidibus guided our path into sealing him into the crystal tower so that he could make the time portal and secure the soft timeloop we're in. Though chances are HIGH this is all subconscious the entire time because of memory loss.

Thank you for coming to my Elidibus Talk.

[enbyleighlines]

one of the hardest things about getting older is how your ability to do things gradually diminishes. this is going to be especially hard on Ike, who puts so much emphasis on being strong enough to protect his loved ones. how do you think our wandering trio would cope with the physical effects of Ike’s aging as he gradually goes from being physically the strongest of the three to possibly the weakest? I imagine Soren taking it especially hard, and Ike trying to be chill about it for his sake but really struggling to deal with the reality that he’s the one who needs protecting, now. meanwhile Ranulf would try really hard to keep everyone’s spirits up, but eventually have kind of a breakdown about it, prompting a really difficult conversation between the three of them.

guess I just answered my own ask lol. oops. do you have any thoughts? things you disagree on? that kind of thing?

Ooof, way to hit me right where it hurts.

I definitely agree with you, though. Mule-headed Ike would have trouble adjusting to the fact that he’s no longer able to accomplish physical tasks as easily as he could when he was younger. Thankfully, I imagine it might take a while for him to start “feeling his age”, since he stays so active.

But even if he stays in shape with regular exercise, it will only prolong the inevitable. Eventually, he will reach a stage in his life where he can no longer lift as much as he used to, or maybe he has achey joints, or a bad knee, or some other health issue that makes navigating the world just a little harder. And because he’s Ike, he will refuse to let that hold him back.

He definitely is the type of man to throw out his back because he keeps pushing himself past his limits, and get Quite An Earful from both of his doting househusbands.

That said, I like to think that our trio has found their forever home by then, in a cottage just outside a small town in Hatari, so at least Ike doesn’t have to worry about protecting his husbands from bandits, natural disasters, wild animals, or other such travel-related hazards. And by that point, Soren and Ranulf have honed their own respective skills to the extent that they can defend themselves. So even if it’s hard for Ike at first, I also feel like he would be the first to accept and move on from those feelings.

His attitude would basically boil down to: “Well, there’s nothing to be done, so there’s no use worrying about it.

Soren would have a much more difficult time, because the physical signs of Ike’s aging (his hair turning gray, the wrinkles, the loss of muscle mass, etc) would be a visual, omnipresent reminder of Ike’s mortality. For Ike’s sake, I think he would try to put on a brave face, but inside he is Not Coping Well.

Ranulf would definitely try to make jokes, esp concerning the fact that Ike looks old enough to be their grandfather, while they’re still fairly fresh-faced. And he’d tease Ike about how his blue-silver hair is so handsome.

Only, internally he is terrified by how quickly Ike seems to be aging.

When they finally all sit down and talk, it hurts. And it takes a long, long time, the three of them huddled up together and discussing their thoughts and feelings well past midnight.

And it doesn’t drastically alter anything going forward. Their individual fears are still there.

But Soren and Ranulf both get to sob into Ike’s (no longer buff) chest, and it’s cathartic. It helps dull the sharp edge of their pain. And Ike gets to hold them both and marvel at the fact that Soren and Ranulf care so deeply for him, and be proud of how far they’ve come in their own relationship.

Even when he’s gone, they will have one another. Ike takes great comfort in that.

[celticcrossanon]

BRF Reading - 19th of April, 2023

This is speculation only

Cards drawn on the 19th of April, 2023

Question: How does King Charles feel about Prince William at this point in time?

Note: This reading is for the present, not for the past and not for the future. Feelings can change over time. I asked specifically for the present, which is why the question says "at this point in time".

Note 2: I am not a Charles fan, and I am on William's side in whatever is going on, so bear that in mind when you read my interpretation of the cards.

Note 3: This reading is inflammatory given the current state of affairs in the fandom. Please take a deep breath after reading it and give yourself time to calm down. I can not emphasise this enough. People are going to have strong reactions to how I have interpreted the cards, so please go in expecting things to be bad.

Interpretation: King Charles does not think anything good about Prince William at this point in time.

Card One: The Eight of Pentacles, reversed.

Upright, this is the apprentice-to-master card. It is about moving from apprenticeship to mastery, about using your skills and talent, about building the foundations for a secure future. it is about commitment, dedication, and gaining accomplishment through practise.

Reversed, this card indicates that you are not putting in the effort required to move from apprenticeship to master, you have demanding tasks that you are not doing or not doing with enough care, you have little motivation for the task at hand.

The Eight of Pentacles is usually a work card, but it can be read as a relationship card. In terms of a relationship, it means you are not putting enough effort into the relationship.

So as a father, Charles feels that William is not putting enough effort into their relationship. Remember that this is Charles's perspective, and what he sees as 'putting in enough effort" and what another person sees as "putting in enough effort" might be two different things.

In his role of King, Charles feels William is doing a terrible job as Prince of Wales. He sees himself as the master of the role of "Prince of Wales" and William as the apprentice. The energy of this card is of responsibility and motivation. Charles feels that William unmotivated and that he is not fulfilling the responsibilities of his role as the Prince of Wales, i.e. supporting the monarch in all his decisions.

I'm getting a very petulant energy from this card. What I am feeling - and this could be wrong - is that Charles asked William to do something, William said No, Charles said it is your duty as The Prince of Wales to say yes and support me, William said No, and Charles is having a strop about it. This may not be the case at all, but that is the energy I am feeling - someone who is sulky because they were refused something and who is thinking badly of the other person because they were told no.

I'm going to pull a clarifier for this card and ask why Charles feels this way.

The clarifier I drew is The Knight of Pentacles in reverse. This is the same card as the underlying energy. This is the Harry card (the Knight of Pentacles represents the sign Virgo, and Harry is a sun sign Virgo). This opinion that Charles has of William is related to Harry somehow, and with the card in reverse it is related to Harry being eclipsed or diminished somehow. I wonder if Charles wanted to give Harry a bigger role in the coronation and William said No? It's something like that - one person wanted the other person to do something for or about Harry and the other person refused.

Pentacles is the suit of money and status, so one or both of those are most likely to be the issue here.

Card Two: The Six of Cups, reversed.

Upright, this is a card about the past, about feeling nostalgic about the past. about childhood, and about children.

Reversed, this card is about leaving home, moving forward from the past, and being independent. It can also mean being stuck in past relationships, or living in the past.

The energy of this card is of independence. Both as a father and as a King, Charles feels that William is too independent. He (William) is not listening to his father and doing exactly as his father says (as a child does), but instead he (William) is making his own decisions and forging his own path (as an adult does), and Charles is not very happy about this. It may be that William is not listening to Charles's good advice (born from his lifetime of experience), or it may be that Charles wants William to do things his way and William is doing them his own way. Either way, Charles sees William as being too independent for his own good.

I drew a clarifier for this card, and it also came out as the Knight of Pentacles in reverse, so again this is all about Harry.

Charles feels that William is stuck in the past as William is not able to forgive and forget what Harry has done and move on from it. William has moved on from being the one who always looked after and protected Harry, and Charles is really unhappy about this.

Cups is the suit of emotions and relationships, so this card is all about relationships.

Card Three: The Strength card, reversed.

This is a major arcana card, and so is a main energy of this reading.

Upright, this card is about having inner strength, being confident in yourself, being controlled and disciplined. In the reverse, it means inner weakness, being insecure, inadequacy, and being a coward.

The energy of this card is of cowardice. For some reason - and I have no idea why - Charles feels that William is a coward. He sees William as insecure and threatened by his brother (Harry). None of this makes logical sense, but that is the energy I am getting from the card.

I drew a clarifier for this card, and it was The Fool. The Fool is a card of fresh starts, being somewhat naïve, and it can be a children card. The energy of this card was of a fresh start.

I drew a second clarifier, and it was the Five of Wands, a card of conflict that is also one of the underlying energies of this reading. The energy of this card was strong. Whatever they are fighting about, both Charles and William have very strong feelings about this.

Charles wants to give someone a fresh start, and William is opposing him, and so Charles thinks that William is threatened by the idea of giving this other person a fresh start. Given the underlying energies, this person is Harry. Charles and William are arguing over the wisdom of giving Harry a fresh start. For some reason, Charles feels that William is a coward because William is not prepared to give Harry a fresh start.

The Five of Wands, the conflict card, is in the suit of PR (Wands can be PR), so this conflict will be seen in the PR put out by the media (Charles wants to reconcile and William is being a meanie and saying no, anyone?)

The Strength card is the card of the sign of Leo, and Leo is linked to the ego/the self, so this could be a case of Charles having his ego wounded by William not going along with what he (Charles) said.

Underlying Energy: The Six of Wands

This is a card of triumph and success. The quest is won, the golden fleece has been obtained. The energy of this card is of someone feeling triumphant. They have finally achieved a long desired goal. I think this is Charles finally becoming King, not that he wanted his parents to die, but that he has prepared for this job his entire life and finally he has the job and he is the boss. It is that sort of energy.

There is the energy of someone being on a bit of an ego trip or a power trip about this card - an I win, you lose, hahaha energy. It is not someone being modest about their triumph, but rather someone flaunting it a bit.

Underlying Energy Two: The Five of Wands.

This is a card of conflict, arguments, rivals and clashes of ego. Charles and William are fighting over something (Harry, as per the next card). Charles is the King, he is the boss, he is the victor (the Six of Wands), he should have his way in everything - and William is saying No to him and his proposal (whatever it is) about Harry. The energy of this card is intense, so both men feel very strongly about their side of the conflict.

The Six of Wands card before this one suggests that Charles is going to win this battle and have his way about Harry.

Underlying Energy Three: The Knight of Pentacles, reversed.

This card also appears as a clarifier of the main reading above. The Knight of Pentacles is the card for the sign Virgo, and Harry is a sun sign Virgo. Coming after the Five of Wands it says that Charles and William are fighting over Harry and what to do about him. The card in the reverse indicates that Harry is not at his best - he is being eclipsed or diminished somehow. This most likely refers to his drug and mental health issues.

Reversals. We have three cards reversed for the main reading. This indicates that King Charles is not thinking well of William at this time.

Conclusion:

Charles is not feeling very highly about William at this point in time. He and William are fighting over Harry and what to do about him, and it looks like Charles has triumphed. Charles feels that William is weak, insecure, and threatened by Harry. He sees William as a coward, being stuck in the past, unable to forgive and forget what his brother has done to him. He feels that William is far too independent. He also feels that William is doing a terrible job as the Prince of Wales; he is the apprentice and not the master, and he is avoiding his responsibility to support the monarch in everything that he (Charles) does. He feels that William is not putting enough effort into their father-son relationship.

As I mentioned earlier, there is a very petulant energy to this reading, and perhaps if William was not arguing with his father over Harry then Charles would feel a lot better about his eldest son.

[precious-little-scoundrel]

I feel like because of how rotten the people Maureen grew up with were, they would try to diminish her accomplishments during the war, because they would feel her slipping away. And to make things worse they would belittle Gale while they are at it. That imagine would fully end any residual fondness that she might’ve felt for those folks and drive her away even further

They totally would.

And I’ve got two post-war plot points to this. And it partly includes Lu and Maureen.

When they disbanded the integration experiment, as the brass so blithely dubbed their wartime sacrifices, that was bad enough for the returning girls to find themselves practically without a company and in limbo. Then when statements and depositions of these girls and Ida reveal their tortures and the targeting of their sex, there’s a bit of a PR slimey pivot that occurs. It doesn’t look good that these women went through all this and have gotten no thanks. So instead, it’s best to deflect, to say that they shouldn’t have been in combat in the first place. They pass the buck to some poor scapegoat who they blame for having signed off on the experiment of women in the military and proceed to dismantle the Banshees reputation.

This includes digging up dirt on these girls, to prove that the sort of women who would sign up for this aren’t the respectable sort, they’re not average good American girls, no:, they’re mongrels and runaways and tramps.

It is a massive blow to a lot of them. And it’s what sends Ida into an utter tailspin of fighting for any bit of retraction for the insult to injury. It has her begging Gale to admit and prove to the brass it was not just the women targeted, it’s not a matter of their gender. Their most decorated men shared the same fate. It was the enemy, not the combatants who are to blame for their treatment.

SPOILERS:

Gale’s decision to finally cave and testify in 1947 after initially refusing is something her entire family balks at and is the last straw for her ever owning them again. She would support Gale no matter what he chose, but if he’s going to expose himself to national controversy and judgment, something so vulnerable and awful, she will not be humoring those who’d tear him down. It’s the final straw.

[greenteaandtattoos]

Something that I loathe about Shippuden is how it portrays Sasuke and Naruto’s “relationship”. In the OG Naruto, through Jiraiya the show outright states that Sasuke and Naruto’s rivalry was unhealthy.

And yet... in Shippuden, the show portrays that Naruto’s obsession with Sasuke as a “power of friendship will save the day” thing. Sasuke doesn’t want to be saved, he says it outright, over and over, he says he’s tired of Naruto’s fixation with him. That alone is unhealthy, but Naruto just... ignores that and even says that if Sasuke would have to die, he would fight him so he could die with him and they could be friends in the afterlife.

What happened to “Until I become hokage, I will not die”? You know, the spiel he gave when he saved Tsunade, the future Hokage and person who healed Kakashi, Lee, and Sasuke, right before he finally accomplished the Rasengan for the first time, the very jutsu that matches Sasuke’s Chidori.

Sasuke tried to kill Sakura. He tried to kill Kakashi. He joined the organization that killed Jiraiya, Gaara, Kakashi. He planned to not just destroy the village that Naruto loves so much, right after Pain already destroyed it, but to slaughter every single person in it. Not just the elders responsible for the Uchiha Massacre, he wanted to kill the innocent people because “how dare they enjoy the peace that Itachi’s sacrificed everything to give them”.

Despite all of this... Naruto insists that they have a “special bond”. He insists that Sasuke “was the person who accepted him the most”, meanwhile Kakashi explains that Sasuke couldn’t understand why Naruto was getting so strong so fast, and he refused to acknowledge and accept him as an equal because he believed that Naruto’s growth diminishes his own.

Naruto says that he understands Sasuke because they’re both strong shinobi, but can he really? He can really understand Sasuke for trying to kill the people he cares about and destroy the village he loves? 

Naruto is prioritizing Sasuke’s life over anyone else’s. He would rather try to save Sasuke than kill him to protect everyone else. He acknowledged that Sasuke was extremely powerful, saw how he almost killed some of the strongest shinobi he knew, and decided that he would rather risk everyone else’s lives in order to try in “save him”, and would resort to fucking suicide so they could possibly be friends in the afterlife.

He completely disrespected the rest of his classmates’, his FRIENDS’ wishes to take care of Sasuke so that Naruto wouldn’t have to carry that burden anymore. Especially Sakura, who loved Sasuke, too. Her love for him was just as valid as Naruto’s, even if it started as a childish crush, and she chose to put it aside to deal with Sasuke as the rest of the world saw him: a threat. She saw him as a threat to the rest of the people she cared about, and was willing to push aside the hurt and love to strike him down to save the village and her loved ones.

But Naruto acts like his feelings for Sasuke are more important, are stronger, that his bond is more special than anyone else’s. She saw the bigger picture, saw the people who were still with her, saw their feelings, and decided that as both Sasuke and Naruto’s teammate, she had to take matters into her own hands so that no one else would be hurt. She was going to try and save Sasuke by killing him so no one else would get hurt because she loved both him and the others, and couldn’t bare to watch them all suffer. But Naruto acts like he’s doing everyone, especially Sakura, a favor by continuing to try and save Sasuke.

One of the worst is when Kakashi uses Sasuke’s hatred of Naruto as a motivation for Naruto to get stronger, and not in the “you’ve gotten so strong because you have to beat him”. It was in a “your hatred of him inspires him and is the reason he’s gotten so strong”.

I just... gah, I hate how Shippuden dealt with Sasuke. And don’t even get me started on how quickly the village just... accepted him back with no repercussions or questions asked. Just, “yep, good ‘ol Sasuke is back!”. It doesn’t matter if Sasuke decided to put himself into exile to redeem himself, the way the others reacted and responded so positively was absolutely ridiculous. 

[prouvaireafterdark]

Love Hath a Bitter Taste

Inspired by the "This is not a life!" "That's 'cause you took my life!" exchange from the trailer and written before 1x03 aired.

I know this definitely isn’t how it’s going to go in the show, but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head, so here it is!

TW: suicidal ideation, depression, eating disorders, murder (you know, typical Loustat things - see AO3 tags for full list)

Also on AO3!

***

The townhouse at Rue Royale was silent as the grave when Lestat came home late one evening, flushed and sated from his second kill of the night. He heard nothing as he stepped inside, not the crackle of a flame in the fireplace nor the soft turning of a page as Louis read the night away, as he was often wont to do. 

The silence unnerved Lestat. Something about it just didn’t sit right.

“Louis?” he called from the door, but there was no answer. 

He had only seen Louis in passing these last few weeks, since their latest spat over Louis’ refusal to feed properly had sent them both licking their wounds, but there was usually some trace of him about, some sign of his comings and goings to reassure Lestat he was still there. He stepped into the parlor to look for him, then the courtyard, and even the kitchen, but all were as he’d left them when he’d gone out to hunt this evening, not so much as a mote of dust out of place. 

Panic spurred him on and his feet carried him up the steps two at a time until he reached the landing. He threw open the door to their bedroom and walked swiftly to the mantle of the fireplace, his finger catching the wooden button with practiced ease. As the door to their coffin room swung slowly open, Lestat impatiently forced his way inside, half expecting to find that Louis’ coffin had been spirited away in the night—that Louis had finally grown weary of their bickering and left him.

But Louis’ slick black coffin was exactly where it had always been, right next to Lestat’s.

Lestat let out a small sigh, reassured for the moment that, wherever he was, Louis had not yet abandoned him, though he chafed with annoyance when he noticed that his coffin was still turned around so it would open facing the wall. His beloved’s anger would not be so easily placated this time, it would seem. 

Not that Lestat could really blame Louis. Not this time. Kissing him with blood in his mouth in a vain attempt to end his ridiculous hunger strike had not exactly had its desired effect. He could remember with perfect clarity the look of heartrending betrayal in Louis’ eyes as he planted his hands on his chest and shoved with all his meager strength. Even in his indignation at being avoided, Lestat could recognize that he’d crossed a line. It was why he’d been on his best behavior ever since, giving Louis the space he’d asked for no matter how torturous it was.

Still, Louis’ coffin hadn’t moved and that alone made the pain of their estrangement easier to swallow. 

His relief was short-lived, however, because a fraction of a second later Lestat finally heard something. 

It was the softest sound, easy to miss from downstairs with the ceiling between them, but there it was again—the faintest of heartbeats. It was coming from inside Louis’ coffin. 

Lestat crossed the room and ripped off its glossy, black lid. Horror gripped his heart at what he saw inside: Louis, his beautiful Louis, lying still and emaciated as a cadaver, his smooth brown skin gaunt and sunken around his eyes and mouth. He was still dressed in the suit Lestat had seen him in the other night, as if he had simply kicked off his shoes and hadn’t bothered—or had the energy—to change for bed.

“Louis!” Lestat shouted, reaching for him immediately. “Louis, wake up!”

His lover made no response but the barest flutter of his eyelashes, too diminished to accomplish anything more, and a pit of anguish opened in Lestat’s stomach so wide it threatened to swallow him whole. 

Without another thought, Lestat pulled Louis into a seated position, propping his back up against the wall of the coffin, and slashed his own wrist with a glass-like fingernail. He tenderly cradled the back of Louis’ neck in his palm as he brought his wrist to his mouth, urging him to drink with desperate, whispered pleas. 

The blood trickled down over Louis’ lips and into his mouth, a few stray drops escaping down the curve of his chin. Louis moaned softly at the heady scent and taste of it and Lestat thanked a God he didn’t believe in as Louis reached blindly up to grab his wrist and finally began to drink.

As Louis sucked down the blood flowing from the wound on his wrist, Lestat felt the swoon rise up inside him, beautiful in all its pain and pleasure. He fought against its tide to stay focused on Louis, watching with keen, anxious eyes as the color returned to his cheeks and the life to his limbs. 

Once Louis could hold his head up on his own, Lestat wrapped his free arm around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his temple, letting him drink and drink and drink until his vision began to swim and his body began to grow cold. 

“That’s enough for now, mon coeur,” he whispered against Louis’ forehead before pulling his wrist free from his grip.

Still in the throes of unfathomable hunger, Louis reached out for Lestat again in blind instinct, around the neck this time, and before Lestat could stop him, Louis sank his fangs into his throat. Lestat gasped in pain as Louis tore at his flesh and again began to drink.

“Louis! Stop!” he shouted, using his superior strength to shove Louis away from him.

Once free from Louis’ grasp, Lestat stumbled to his feet and backed quickly away from the coffin. With some space between them, he took stock of how he felt: his head was pounding and he could still feel the blood slowly leaking from the wound on his neck as his body worked to repair itself, but no lasting damage had been done. 

“‘Stat, what—?” Louis rasped, gazing up at him from his seated position inside the coffin, his chest heaving like he’d just awoken from a nightmare. His eyes darted all around the room before honing back in on Lestat, taking in the state of his pale face and bleeding neck. He reached up to touch his own mouth, and when his fingers came away red, Lestat watched the pieces fall into place.

“Did I—? Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—“ he said, pulling himself up and climbing out of the coffin. “Are you okay?” he asked, stepping toward Lestat carefully, as a mortal might approach a wounded animal.

“No!” Lestat shouted incredulously. What a ludicrous question! “I am not okay! You looked like a corpse when I found you, Louis! How long has it been since you’ve fed?”

Louis’ grimace was worth a thousand words. 

“Three days,” was his measured response, and the absurdity of that notion made a harsh laugh escape Lestat’s mouth.

“Vermin doesn’t count, Louis!” he seethed, his anger beginning to get the better of him now that Louis seemed alright again. “How long since you’ve fed on a human?”

Louis needed a moment to think about this, and that alone should have been answer enough, really—had he been feeding himself properly, his mind would have been much sharper.

“A few weeks? A month?” Louis guessed at last, and Lestat could hardly believe what he was hearing.

“A month?! You haven’t fed properly for a month?!” Lestat asked, taking a step closer to him in his outrage. “Mon Dieu, Louis. Are you insane? Are you trying to kill yourself?!”

The silence that came next was so sharp it cut Lestat’s heart like a knife, shattering his temper. He’d known that Louis had struggled with feelings of melancholy all his life, but he hadn’t realized they had grown to such a degree.

In his mind’s eye, he could see another fledgling, another dark-haired lover prone to self-destruction he had failed. The idea that his beloved Louis would follow in Nicki’s footsteps was a misery too grave to contemplate, even if he infuriated him to no end half the time.

No, not again. I cannot bear it.

“Louis…” he whispered, his voice a broken thing as his eyes began to fill with tears. 

Louis looked away from him, seemingly cowed for the moment by the heartbreak on his face. 

“You cannot keep living like this,” Lestat continued, his resolve and desperation growing with each word. “I won’t allow it. This ends now. Tonight. You need to hunt with me again. I never should have let you carry on like this so long, it’s beneath you and—”

A familiar indignation mounted on Louis’ face the longer Lestat went on until finally the dam broke.

“Don’t tell me how to live my life!” Louis shouted, enraged as ever by Lestat’s demanding nature. 

“This is not a life!” Lestat screamed in response. 

“That’s ‘cause you took my life!” Louis fired back, reflecting every ounce of Lestat’s anger right back at him.

Lestat recoiled as if Louis had struck a physical blow, his expression twisted with a maelstrom of emotions. He could do nothing but stare at Louis as he began to walk away from him, rooted to the spot by his shock, his fury, his pain.

Was that really how Louis felt? 

Did this home they’d built together mean nothing to him? 

Was his life here so devoid of love and happiness that it no longer counted as a life at all? 

When Louis had finally disappeared out of the open door to their bedroom, Lestat snapped to action, following after him with preternatural speed, unwilling to let him have the last word. He caught up to him easily and was beside him in a flash.

“How dare you walk away from me!” Lestat bellowed, his throat raw as he reached for Louis’ arm to keep him from walking any further. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Louis shouted back, yanking his arm out of Lestat’s grip.

They stared at each other then, each daring the other to be the first to break the silence, chests heaving with breaths they didn’t need to take. 

“Is that really what you think, Louis?” Lestat asked at last, angry crimson tears finally spilling over his cheeks. “That I robbed you of something precious the night I gave you the greatest gift there is?”

“And what gift is that, Lestat?” Louis asked, tone tired and mocking. “Eternal damnation?”

“Freedom!” Lestat shouted, anger and frustration bursting out of him once more, unable now to be contained. “From fear and shame and death, from the laws of mortal men who would deign to tell us how to live or how to love!”

Louis scoffed with an incredulous shake of his head and opened his mouth to argue, but Lestat was done listening. He took a step closer until he was right in Louis’ personal space, demanding his full attention.

“And don’t forget, mon cher,” he snarled, the endearment dripping off his tongue like venom, “that though you love to imagine yourself as my victim, I did not force the dark gift upon you. You asked me for it!” 

With that, Lestat stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him so hard it fell off its hinges. He heard it clatter to the floor behind him, but by then he was already at the bottom of the stairs and halfway to the front door.

The light drizzle that had begun when he’d first come home was now a downpour, but Lestat hardly noticed as he stalked off down the street, the rain soaking into his clothes and washing away the blood from his skin. Anger burned inside him and something else, a pain so deep, so profound, that it felt as if his very soul—if he even still had one, or ever had at all—was bleeding, a tattered, wretched thing in the cavern of his chest. 

It wasn’t until he came upon a beggar hunched under a makeshift tent in an alleyway near the docks that Lestat felt the gnawing hunger Louis had left him with, his throat painfully parched.

Lestat pounced upon the man like an animal, his fangs ripping into his flesh without an ounce of his usual grace. He relished the frantic beating of the man’s heart, the struggle in his limbs, and the hot gush of blood that followed as it ran down his chin and stained his clothes, something savage inside him satiated by the brutality of the act. 

When it was done, his heart still ached, but the man’s blood had helped him feel a little more like himself again. He turned his face into the rain and let it wash away the evidence of his sins before he wrapped the beggar in the stretch of canvas that had served as his shelter and threw him into the Mississippi.

He wandered a while longer, until he could feel the dawn approaching, and then it became a bitter race against the rising sun back to the home he shared with Louis on Rue Royale.

This time, as Lestat stepped through the front door, the townhouse was not so quiet. 

Lestat could hear the pacing of footsteps in the sitting room to his right and then a sudden quickening in their cadence before Louis appeared in the archway. He was still wearing the same clothes as before, though now he was missing his jacket and tie, and his curls were mussed like he’d run his fingers through them. 

“You’re back,” Louis said, eyes darting all over his disheveled frame, and Lestat couldn’t help but scoff.

“What, did you imagine I had decided to finally rid myself of my ungrateful fledgling and find someone more agreeable to share a home with?” Lestat seethed, his tone as sharp as the pain he still felt in his heart. “If only you were so lucky.”

Hurt flashed across Louis’ face at the barbed comment and Lestat couldn’t stand to look at him anymore, the thin veneer of impassivity he’d constructed on the way home already beginning to crack. 

He turned and ascended the stairs without another word, rainwater dripping off his clothes with each step he took. He headed straight for the bathroom and stripped off his clothes, tossing them carelessly into a soggy pile on the floor. 

As he waited for the frankly enormous claw foot tub to fill with hot water, he chanced a look at himself in the mirror and cringed at his own reflection. The blood on his face had mostly been washed away by the rain, but his eyes were tired and his beautiful golden hair was wet and limp where it framed his face. If he was being charitable, he looked not unlike a drowned rat. 

Hmm. Perhaps Louis will want me now, he mused bitterly at the thought.

When the tub had filled, Lestat stepped into the water, barely feeling the heat on his skin. He sank down until the bridge of his nose was submerged and his eyes were left above the water’s surface.

He sat there, stewing in his feelings, for an indeterminate amount of time. Alone in the tub, he thought only of Louis and found he could not cling to his anger any longer, his mind turning instead to the thoughts that plagued his wounded heart.

Had he made a mistake, turning Louis? 

Was his heart truly too tender, too human for the life they led? 

Were they destined to keep hurting each other until one of them had the courage to end it?

He felt his eyes begin to well up again with miserable tears, his vision clouding red, but when he shut his eyes against it, in his mind he saw Louis’ face, his beautiful face, marred by righteous fury, and it only made it worse.

When he opened them again, he saw little rivulets of crimson expanding out in front of him where his tears had hit the water. He watched them swirl and spread like tendrils, their gentle meandering a mesmerizing distraction.

Suddenly, he heard a soft knock at the door and his eyes darted up from the water.

“Lestat?” came Louis’ familiar voice on the other side of the wood. “Can I come in?”

There were two impulses in Lestat’s mind then. The first was to shout, to tell Louis to get the hell away from him if he hated it here so much. The second was to invite him in and beg him, on hands and knees if he had to, not to leave him. 

Neither one of them won out in the end. Instead, Lestat gave no answer, closing his eyes and sinking further into the water until he was fully submerged. 

Lestat’s senses were dulled by the water around him, but he was not so deafened that he could not hear the bathroom door creak hesitantly open, nor the slow footsteps that approached the tub, nor the nervous heartbeat of the one who made them. 

When he finally rose above the surface, slowly and making hardly a sound, he found Louis sitting with his back against the wall of the tub, his arms crossed on top of his knees where he’d brought them up toward his chest.

“It won’t work, you know,” Lestat said at last, gazing back down at the water. “A vampire can live for centuries without a drop to drink. And all the while you’ll only drive yourself mad, until your body withers beyond recognition and you are a husk of your former self, trapped in a slumber from which you cannot wake under your own power.”  

Out of the corner of his eye, Lestat could see Louis raise his head, but he said nothing to indicate he’d heard him, nor did he turn around to look at him.

“Why, Louis?” Lestat asked him, when he could bear the silence stretching between them no longer, his voice thin, barely above a whisper. “Why are you doing this to yourself? Is—is this new life I’ve given you really so terrible?” 

Is life with me really so terrible? is what he meant to ask, but the words turned to ash in his mouth.

Louis craned his head around to look at him then, and Lestat could see smudges of dried blood around his eyes.

“Sometimes, yeah,” Louis admitted after an excruciating moment and, oh, even though he’d asked, Lestat was woefully unprepared for such an answer.

Lestat’s eyes began to burn with tears once more and he averted his gaze back to the water, his heart breaking all over again. He saw in his mind’s eye the faces of Nicki and his mother, Gabrielle, remembering all too well how it had felt when they had cast him aside. The thought that he was on the precipice of losing Louis the way he’d lost them was painful beyond articulation. He didn’t think he would survive such a thing. He didn’t know if he wanted to.

“Are you—“ Lestat forced himself to ask, voice trembling fiercely, the words nearly impossible to get out, “—are you going to leave?”  

“No,” Louis said, turning the rest of his body around to face him. He reached across the space between them to cup Lestat’s cheek and force him to look at him directly. Louis’ eyes were also glazed with a crimson sheen and there was an intensity there Lestat hadn’t expected to see. “No,” he repeated. “I don’t want to leave you.”

The relief of hearing Louis say those words so plainly wrenched an ugly sob from Lestat’s chest. Louis made a soft sound of pity and pulled him forward by the back of his neck so Lestat could bury his face against his shoulder as he cried, the release of emotion inside him too much to hold back now.

When Lestat had calmed down some minutes later, Louis was still holding him, stroking his fingers through his damp hair with a tenderness he didn’t deserve. Lestat could have happily died there, wrapped up in Louis’ arms, secure, for the moment at least, in the knowledge that the love of his exceptionally long life had no intention of leaving him.

“And I’m not trying to kill myself,” Louis said quietly. “I just… I’m not like you, Lestat. I don’t want to keep killing people every night for the rest of my life. I won’t do it anymore.”

“Then let me do it for you,” Lestat sniffled, and he felt Louis’ fingers pause in his hair. 

He leaned back to look up at Louis’ face. His green eyes were narrowed in confusion.

“You need blood to live, Louis,” Lestat said, begging him to understand. “Without it, you will waste away to nothing, driven mad by your hunger. You cannot expect me to just sit here and watch.” 

“I know,” Louis sighed.

“I won’t,” Lestat continued, reaching up to caress the curve of Louis’ jaw with wet fingers. “I love you too dearly for that.”

“I know,” he said again, softer this time, his eyes shining. He sighed again, tipping forward until his forehead was resting against Lestat’s. “I love you too.”

“Then let me help you,” Lestat said desperately. “Drink from me instead, if you must, but drink.” 

Louis pulled back a little and Lestat could see the idea had sparked some interest in his eyes, but it was quickly snuffed out by his conscience.

“You would need to feed more to compensate,” Louis argued, shaking his head. “More people would die.”

“What if I said I would kill them anyway, just for the sport of it,” Lestat asked, running out of options. “Would that ease your conscience?”

“You wouldn’t,” Louis said, voice hard, and ordinarily he would be right. As a general rule, with some notable exceptions, Lestat did not kill without feeding. 

But there wasn’t a rule on this Earth Lestat wouldn’t break to save Louis, even from himself. If he needed an excuse to start drinking human blood again, Lestat was going to give it to him by any means necessary.

“Wouldn’t I?” Lestat asked, daring him to deny it a second time.

Louis’ mouth pressed into a thin line, but he said nothing more.

“Make their deaths worth something, Louis,” Lestat urged in a soft, pleading voice, stroking the apple of his cheek with his thumb. “You can give them that, at least.”

Lestat watched the conflicted look in Louis’ beautiful green eyes turn to resignation and he knew he had won.

“Alright,” Louis relented. ”Alright, I’ll do it.”

“Thank you,” Lestat sighed, relief flooding through him once more, and he leaned forward to brush his lips against Louis’ other cheek.

“You’re a bastard,” Louis replied, but without the heat it was usually accompanied by.

“A bastard who loves you very much,” Lestat smiled cheekily. 

Louis huffed what sounded suspiciously like a laugh, the corner of his mouth ruefully turning upward. 

They stared at each other for a long moment, neither one quite ready to part, before Louis broke the silence.

“Alright, I’ll let you finish up in here,” he said, and then after the briefest moment’s hesitation, he leaned down to press a soft, tender kiss to his mouth, their first in weeks. 

Lestat had gone so long without the feeling of Louis’ lips against his own that a truly pathetic whimper was torn from the back of his throat when Louis pulled away so soon. He chased eagerly after his mouth for more, reaching up to wrap both arms around his neck and pull him closer, but he soon felt Louis’ hands on his forearms stop him. 

“Not tonight, Lestat,” Louis said, but he softened the rejection with another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’m too fuckin’ tired.”

Lestat felt a pang of disappointment, but he nodded in understanding—it would take at least a few days of regular feedings for Louis to feel like his old self again. He watched as Louis rose to his feet and started to leave the room.

“Wait,” Lestat said suddenly, gripping the edge of the tub nervously with both hands.

Louis paused and turned around, a question in his eyes.

“Will you sleep in my coffin tonight?” Lestat asked, and maybe he was pressing his luck, but the thought of spending another night in isolation was almost physically painful. He needed to feel Louis in his arms again, to hear his heart beating in time with his own.

A fond smile appeared on Louis’ exhausted face and he nodded before he left the room. 

Lestat sank back into the now-cold bathwater when the door closed behind him, resting his head back against the edge of the tub. He wasn’t sure if he had managed to truly solve their problems tonight—if Louis would wake up with a change of heart or if perhaps they had at last reached some kind of understanding.

What he did know was that when he finished drying himself off and went to ready himself for bed, Louis was in his coffin waiting for him, and for now that was enough.

[nytehavyn-circle]

IMPORTANT THINGS people need to know about my main OCs.

Taken from Terran Nytefyer's about: He’s highly intelligent (and has no qualms with saying so), has a bit of an ego (remember, he’s spent centuries developing a huge network of contacts, highly sophisticated resources - in fact, he’s spent centuries building up one of the largest, most comprehensive and interconnected spy and information intelligence networks in the world - in fact, Tony Stark helped him with the AI in his computer network. But because of his intelligence network, he can find out almost anything - he even knows the identity of many of the world’s superheroes. He has top-notch security. materials, etc.  The list goes on. There’s a reason he seems to know almost anything that goes on in the world.)

So, Tolaas can know whatever he needs or wants to know because of Terran. A single phone call can accomplish this.

Also, keep in mind this: Tolaas (and Terran) is a Living Vampire, and in my lore, Living Vampires have the ability to see/read auras and have empathic abilities. so Tolaas will know if your muse is lying to him or not, if your muse is hiding something (without Tolaas knowing what is is), he will know if your muse is human or supernatural being (and usually what kind, by the aura and the feeling he gets from your muse), and the like.

If this sincerely bothers you, then I'm sorry. But I refuse to dumb down and NERF my characters (mostly within reason) in any RP. These abilities, what they can do and the like, are part of their history, part of their lore, a part of who they are. To take that away is to diminish them and make them less than. And I refuse to do that.

If we can't RP because of this, I am genuinely sorry and I'll miss you if you decide to unfollow me, and it will suck if you refuse to follow me because of this.

But I'm not sorry for how I play my characters.

[askfordoodles]

Whats your Cortex x N Tropy headcanons¿? And N Tropy x Fem!N Tropy?

lmao, oh boy here we go... *rubs hands together*

My sorta crack cortropy headcanon is that when Uka Uka left them unattended to reconnoiter the time-prison, they hate-fucked exactly ONCE during a particularly heated argument.

Uka Uka noted to himself when he returned to them that they were unusually quiet and refused to look each other in the eye for 3 whole days. He appreciated the peace and quiet, though, and didn't care to ask any questions.

The entire rest of their imprisonment Cortex and Tropy wordlessly decided between them to pretend it never happened. Literally, neither of them will EVER bring it up, no matter how petty they're feeling because they would both rather forget. What happened in time-prison STAYS in time-prison xD

I do believe that they both secretly admire and respect the other, but they're sadly too proud to communicate it. They're literally some of the most accomplished geniuses in their respective fields and they can't deny the evidence of that. Nor can they deny that they could never achieve what the other has, and it frustrates them to no end. Instead of elevating each other, they decide the best way to feel better about themselves is to try and diminish the importance of the other's field.

Basically when I ship cortropy it's usually tragically dysfunctional at best and toxic at worst. There's something there, but it isn't really what I'd call love.

My Tropy² headcanons are a lot more wholesome, since they actually uncompromisingly adore each other/themselves 😎

First headcanon is that they never actually got around to fucking. They keep getting distracted by their own dirty-talk and wear themselves out before anything escalates. They're both fine with this arrangement, however. It just works for them.

Second headcanon, I've briefly mentioned elsewhere, is that the only thing they truly disagree on (or argue about) is which tuning is superior. N. Tropy's resonator is in 430Hz whilst FemTropy's is in 440Hz.

FemTropy has perfect pitch, so she can actually hear the difference and it annoys her, while N. Tropy doesn't have perfect pitch, so his insistence on 432Hz is primarily a matter of principle. For now, they've decided to leave it alone.

FemTropy (despite being the more accomplished villain) does not judge her male counterpart in the slightest, even though he was the one who gave the heroes a chance to win. As they both consider the other the be an extension of themselves they will quite literally never place blame on the other. They're too proud to examine what that would mean for their perceived flawlessness.

They don't spend every waking moment together; they retreat to do their own villainous businesses in their own universes every so often and then meet up to discuss and plan together. Occasionally N. Tropy will visit FemTropy's universe, since the lack of Crash and Coco makes it more palatable to him. It is a world in which The Master of Time has already won.

That's what I could think of for now ^^