#Me about my own idea: Makes sense.

[yeonban]

Somehow arrived at the topic of names and now I'm thinking.......... Tobias... the Book of Tobit/Tobias in which the son of Tobit, Tobias, is sent to recover money and an angel in disguise accompanies him to teach him how to drive out demons. Tobias, who later grows wealthy, and is told to depart from his hometown forever and live in righteousness away from it because it will be destroyed as an example of wickedness... Elijah... the prophet from the Book of Kings... always the messenger and herald, thought to appear before the 'great and terrible day'... challenging the demons and the priests alike...

[zephyrchama]

(obey me!) moments where they fall in love with you all over again

---01

It’s dinner, and you’re talking about mundane things that happened during your day. You saw a cool bird, got some gum stuck on your shoe, and bought a new flavor of toothpaste to try. Everyone is listening intently. If only they would pay this much attention in class.

Lucifer knows the way his brothers look at you all too well. It’s a look full of respect, admiration, and fondness. It’s a look that’s often reflected on his own face when in your presence. At first he never really understood why you put up with his siblings, as the option to ignore them and be on your way was always there. Yet you continue to make time for them anyway. How unusual.

Moments like these where everyone is together and you don’t treat them as the Seven Rulers of Hell, you just treat them as your dear friends and family. That’s what makes Lucifer soft. He tries to imagine a long future of things staying just like this.

---02

Mammon’s hesitant to lend anybody money, even you. It takes a few minutes to butter him up and fluff his ego before he relents. At last, he hands you the crispest bill in his wallet. “Don’t spend it all in one place,” he kids, knowing full well he’d do just that if he was in your shoes.

He’s curious what you plan to buy. It never dawns on him that you have no intention of spending the cash. Half an hour later, he finds it on his desk. The exact same bill, now creased and folded neatly into an origami bird.

He picks it up to wiggle the little paper wings, entranced, then looks around frantically and catches your eye. A playful smile graces your face and tugs at his heartstrings.

---03

Leviathan is not typically one to make mistakes when it comes to anime. But even he’s not perfect.

He had it set in his mind that the new show premiered at 6:00pm, which left plenty of time to prepare the ultimate solo viewing party after school. He was humming quietly to himself when you walked over. “Isn’t your show starting soon?”

You specifically took an interest in his hobbies. You remembered that it started at 16:00 (four o’clock), not 6:00. Leviathan wondered, how could he make such a egregious mistake? You were the one who dashed back to the House of Lamentation at full speed by his side. When your human stamina started failing, he unconsciously picked you up so you’d both make it in time. You made it with two minutes to spare.

Sweaty and out of breath, still in uniform, you were able to watch the premiere together. It wasn’t until after credits rolled, you went elsewhere, and the live reactions on social media started calming down that Levi realized what a big deal this was to him. What a big deal you were to him.

---04

Satan wasn’t expecting you to be spacing out in his favorite armchair. He had plans to read in it that evening, and considered asking you politely to move. But the way the lamp light shines on your skin, the thoughtful expression on your face while pondering ideas unknown. The way your lips part ever so slightly and your eyes gaze off into nothing. It captivates him. You look like a painting. His breath gets caught in his throat, and in clearing it he manages to break your trance.

“Oh, hey. Welcome home, I didn’t realize you were there.”

You go to get out of the chair, but Satan insists you stay. It doesn’t look right without you anymore. He doesn’t feel right without you anymore.

---05

Asmodeus does not have wardrobe malfunctions often. His outfits are of the highest quality and a lot of care goes into putting them on. Still, things happen.

When his fans rush forward out of nowhere, sometimes they are successful in tearing his clothes. A fistful of shirt here, a mouthful of pants-leg there. Being in the center of a lust-fueled stampede can make even the most collected people lose their minds, but you are steadfast. You shout at the rabid demons, shaming them for their disrespect. You believe you can chase them off all on your own, not knowing that the Avatar of Lust behind you is exuding a killer aura and warning his fans to back off with a powerful glare.

As you sloppily stitch up what remains of his shirt so he can walk home without the incident repeating, Asmodeus is smiling from ear to ear. You’re so focused on genuinely helping that you don’t even notice the bedroom eyes he’s flashing. The scene of you waving your arms and trying to chase off a pack of demons as if they were stray pigeons is permanently ingrained in his memory. Just as your existence is ingrained in his soul.

---06

Beelzebub knows what he likes. He knows what will catch his interest and is pleasantly surprised when a new one crops up.

One thing he likes is you. Another is food. Both are in the cafeteria. He piles a tray high with carbs and goes looking for you at lunch time, finding you seated in the middle of a long table at the edge of the room. He calls your name.

It’s unexpected, the way you quickly swing your head up mid-bite. Your cheeks are full and noodles dangle from your mouth, sauce dripping back onto your plate. Your eyes light up as you look at him from below. It makes him stop in his tracks, causing several shorter demons to walk into him. Such a simple action, yet so profound. You hurriedly chew and offer him a seat while Beelzebub powers through his emotions. He takes a seat across from you to offer a napkin, wondering when he’ll see that face again.

---07

It’s late, far past everyone’s bedtime. Yet Belphegor forgot to tell you something during the day and decided now would be a great time. When you don’t respond to the quiet knocks at your door, he lets himself inside. Your sleeping figure looks too comforting to resist and he gets the brilliant idea to crawl into bed with you to whisper in your ear.

The problem is, as soon as he lifts the covers, you fart. It’s loud. You don’t move an inch, remaining fast asleep and ignorant of what just happened.

Belphegor freezes in his tracks to process it, but is soon doubled over on the futon laughing. The vibrations wake you. You sleepily open your eyes to see who is in hysterics and ask the obvious: “what?”

Belphegor is laughing too hard to tell you. He doesn’t want to tell you. It’s too priceless. You groggily smack him with a spare pillow and it makes him laugh harder. While he loves to look at you, that week it becomes difficult for him to meet your eyes without erupting into a fit of giggles.

[pits-stops]

[lover-of-mine]

[sysig]

“It could be that the loss of her children drove the Queen deeper into her darker desires...but, I don’t believe she was fighting against them that hard before that particular tragedy. No monster does.” (Patreon)

Bonus:

Hmm, wonder what he could cover those holes with :3c

[sneeb-canons]

Headcanon #500:

Mind is afraid that when he distances himself from or above the others, that he will be too far gone to come back down. That when his paranoia gets the best of him, he'll shut everyone else out and then be completely alone with no way back to where he was before.

Heart is afraid that if Mind is right, with the idea that what he does isn't genuine, that he's being manipulative without realizing it. Then therefore being Whole without himself there is the better option. That he'd be thrown out because his ideas would then be "not worth it" or even "vile"

Soul is afraid that no matter what he does or how good things will be, they'll always eventually split up again or even end up worse. Even then he has no clue what he's supposed to do or be during everything, and so because of that he'll never be whole. Or worse that he'll never really "feel" whole.

[whoopseydaisy]

An addition to the cocktail chapter of the @worldsbeyondpod Unofficial Cookbook:

Honey With A Note Of Song

an absinthe wash (the green fairy, for your roots)

2 oz. rye (your liquor of choice, strong and spicy)

1/4 oz. pine and rosemary honey syrup (you cannot go home again)

1 barspoon of saline solution (for your first divine smite, where you found your breath once more)

1-2 dashes of peychauds bitters (because this is a play on a sazerac)

a grapefruit twist (a touch of the bitterness age has brought you)

serve in a glass reminiscent of a chalice

[uncanny-tranny]

Passing as a trans man is a nuanced and complex topic, but one thing I have been noticing as somebody who is a cis-passing (white) trans man is the way I'm treated when there is conflict.

I've noticed that in conflict, people are almost meek around me, willing for me to try working with them up until a woman is involved. When a woman (or, really, anybody who the other party assumes is one) is part of the conflict, they direct all their anger and rage to them. It's fucking insane the way a woman is treated when there is conflict, even if it isn't her fucking fault. These people are fundamental cowards for seeing my manhood as the only reason they can't be openly hostile to me, but it reveals a lot about how a misogynist thinks on an almost primal level.

I'm watching the women and people around me I care about being torn apart by people, and that's unacceptable. I can't sit around to watch it, and I don't want to do that. I need other people to perhaps read this and remember to not stand by if there is something that you can tangibly do to help, even if it's to lend a listening ear or let the person vent.

[theoisdaydreaming]

What I want angel and Arackniss's relationship to be:

So, we can see arackniss watching the news about the battle with heaven in the last chapter.

I want next season to start with arackniss knocking on the hotels door and becoming a guest there, Wich angel finds rare and begins avoiding his brother.

I want the general trope to be, they both think the other hates them; so things are tense at the hotel.

Also, the older brother does something to protect little brother but the other doesn't know it?? And that thing leads them apart trope??? Yes pls

Maybe they can have a 'arackniss thinks it's his fault angel died' cuz I remember in older drawings that the backstory was that they died together (don't know if that changed) but if not, what if angel did died but arackniss survives and so he blames himself for his brothers death for the rest of their life's and once in hell he can't reconnect with angel because he thinks he hates him but really not but actually kinda because hello? I'm beings abused and put under a soul binding contract?? Why are you avoiding me??? And thus ✨miscommunication✨

[cuubism]

"Nice place you have here," says Desire, sliding into the booth opposite Hob.

Hob, unfortunately, recognizes them by voice alone. Desire speaks with the melody of an arpeggio, smoothed into oblivion by the sustained press of a piano pedal. Drag without release, in comparison to Dream's resounding deep notes.

"Never seen you here before," Hob says, instead of get out of my pub. He doesn't actually need to start a fight.

"I've decided to respect my brother's play set for now," Desire says archly, as if this is a huge consideration on their part. "He's been through so much recently, after all."

"And you've been so much help with that," Hob says.

Something dangerous flashes briefly in Desire's eyes, and Hob remembers how fickle they can be. Like fire, Dream had said.

Then it subsides. "Careful, Robert," they say easily, leaning on their hand, "one might think you've chosen a side."

No thinking about it, Hob thinks. "Families shouldn't have sides."

"Oh, ours isn't supposed to," Desire agrees. "And yet."

And yet. "Is there something in particular that has you breaking your self-imposed generosity today?"

It's one day before his and Dream's usual meeting, after all. That can't be a coincidence. Technically, they meet all the time now, but they always keep June 7th for nostalgia's sake.

"I simply enjoy the atmosphere," says Desire, leaning back in their chair. They thrust out a hand, and a rainbow flag flutters off the wall into their grasp, drawn by their whims. Desire drapes it over their shoulders.

"I guess that makes sense," Hob says.

Desire raises an eyebrow.

Hob gestures at them. "Desire. Isn't that your thing?"

They give him a crafty smile, a little teeth, that suggests Hob's going to learn something he may not entirely like. "Well, it is certainly of interest to me."

"Of interest," Hob echoes. Might as well say fire was "of interest" to a pyromaniac. "Isn't that what you do? Dream makes dreams, and..." he trails off.

"I am Desire," they say. "So, in a way, I feel all desires at all times. Yes, even yours, Robert." They pat him on the cheek, and wink. "I know what you feel."

Hob's cheeks heat, but Desire doesn't linger on it, thankfully.

"But, my own desire? Hm, no, not in the way you would think."

"But you--" Hob doesn't know how to phrase the confusion in his mind.

Desire runs their tongue along their lower lip. "Are you calling me a slut, Robert?"

"Would take one to know one, I suppose," Hob says before he can even think about it, and Desire laughs, bright and loud.

"You are so cute. You would be delicious if you weren't obsessed with Dream. But, no. I can feel desired," Desire says, emphasizing the past tense. The objective nature of it. "But that, while certainly tasty, is not quite the same as feeling it oneself, now is it?"

What might it be like, Hob thinks, feeling a pang of sympathy for them despite how they've treated Dream, how he'd automatically marked them as an enemy in his mind, to be surrounded by wanting and not be able to feel it?

"I... guess not," he says. "So you don't want anything?"

Desire shrugs. "I enjoy things. But if I can't have them, it simply passes like--" they pull off the flag and let it flutter to the floor "-- a gust of wind. And I move on to something else. Otherwise, I chase others' desires. Your inn is full of them. Desires for peace, for belonging, for change and magic and-- yes, lust, too, but more of an undertone. It is..." they run their tongue over their teeth, thinking. "Aromatic."

"What does desire 'taste' like?" Hob asks.

"Why don't you tell me," Desire says.

"I'm not going to lick you," Hob says, and Desire cackles.

"Open offer," they say. "Be all metaphorical like Dream, then."

"Alright, fine." Hob decides to indulge them, because he has actually learned something interesting today. "It's like... the smell of a good meal. You don't quite... taste it, exactly? But you can imagine tasting it."

"Good answer," says Desire, and steals his drink for a sip. "I knew I could count on you to listen, Hob."

Hob's not sure if it's the tone, like something long undecided has now been settled, or if it's the use of his old nickname, but suddenly the afternoon tilts, and Hob realizes with a swoop in his stomach that they're here for a purpose, and not just poking at Dream.

The Endless almost never communicate directly, Hob knows this. Goddammit.

"I've spent a lot of time in these sorts of places, you know," Desire says, gesturing around. "They are right--" they interlace their fingers in example "--in the center of my realm."

"Depending on the year, I would have thought you and Despair together," Hob says, wary now that he's realized this is coming to some sort of point.

"A common assumption," Desire says, nodding like a teacher whose student is getting on the right track. "See, people often think my twin and I are opposites. Desire, Despair." They hold out both hands separately again, then clasp them. "But they don't have it right. Hope is the opposite of Despair. Do you know what the opposite of Desire is?" They reach across the table to tap their sharp nails against his sternum. "Shame."

"And that's... part of your domain, as well?" Hob guesses.

"Indeed. Who could know shame as well as one who desires? They both--" they lay their hand flat to his heart "--live here."

Hob supposes he himself has had plenty of desires over the years, and plenty of shame too -- though not necessarily over the same matters.

"Hence," they spread their hands wide, "my presence. The duality of Desire."

"So what do you do?" Hob asks. "When you're here because of shame, I guess."

"I am always both," says Desire. "But." They smile sweetly, and it actually does look sweet, for once. "I am merely here to hold your hand."

Hob must look at them with an expression of vague disgust, for they snort and roll their eyes.

"Not you, Robert. You!" They gesture broadly at the entire inn. "Death is always going on and on about serving humanity. I know how to do my job too, you know."

They frown at him, at the idea he might think otherwise, and it's-- it's actually kind of sweet, how much they care about this. It really is.

"That's sweet," he says, and Desire grumbles. Hob can't help but smile.

"I take the charge of those who live in the heart of Desire very seriously," they sniff. Their gaze slants over Hob's shoulder, watching something across the room. "Relatedly, if that man at the bar follows through on his desire to say something homophobic to those children on their date, I am going to shoot him."

"Ooookaaayyy," Hob says, snapping his fingers in front of their eyes until their attention turns back to him. Hob's bartender will handle any issues; he would really rather not have an Endless making a scene.

Desire smiles placidly at him. "What was I saying? Ah, yes. Desire and shame go hand in hand. Almost like dreams and nightmares, you might say."

Hob goes still again, on instinct. "Right."

"My sister and I are very close, even if we are not, actually, opposites. Dream and I were close, once." They drag their finger around the rim of Hob's glass. "Wanting. Dreaming. So similar, and yet, so different, too. It hurts, to really let yourself want what you've dreamt of. It hurts to desire, don't you think? It's sharp, like a blade."

"Yes," Hob says. "It is."

"Mmm. But shame... shame is like a heavy, warm blanket. It makes you want to just--" they mime pulling fabric over their head-- "disappear. My brother and I have a very complicated relationship. Perhaps, one day, we will be on better terms again, and he can tell me about his desires, and I can tell him about my dreams. I would love to know what it feels like."

Hob isn't sure if he's putting the pieces of this meandering conversation together correctly, but whatever he is picking up on, he doesn't like the sound of.

"Dream is always going on and on and on and on about the importance of dreams and it's so annoying but you know what? I'm starting to think he's right." They give Hob a warning glance. "Do not tell him I said that. But, yes, I'm afraid that desires without dreams hand in hand are just--" they slide their hand across the table and let it stop at the edge. "Impotent. Static. And god knows what good dreams even are without desire but Dream will never admit that."

"So you're what," Hob says, even though he knows this is not what this is about, "trying to mending fences?"

Desire smiles sunnily. "I just want him to call me. I'm bored, and he's spent far too much time in my sister's realm recently."

Then they stand in one fluid motion.

"What are you saying," Hob asks. He feels sort of faint, whiplashed.

"Oh, I've said nothing, I'm doing nothing. I merely don't want to have to fill an empty seat next June, that is all. I'll be far too busy." They wink, and then they're gone.

Hob sits still for a long time, after. He's still not sure he understood... all of that. He understands that the Endless aren't supposed to interfere in each other's affairs and that sometimes riddles result.

What he does understand is that if Desire, of all people, has decided to be helpful, then he definitely has something to be concerned about. Something he needs to do something about.

He shakily drains the rest of his glass, then stands. Hob has never gotten anywhere by being static.

Time to go try to do something about it.

[sea-buns]

Forgive me if I'm a bit nervous about Gorgug this season. It's just that the last Zac Oyama pc was Colin Provolone, who was arguably one of his greatest D20 performances, if not the greatest.

Zac always does great with every pc he plays, but Colin was something else. He came out swinging with actions and words that were teeming with unspoken emotional baggage. The way Colin's presence affected the other pcs; there was this level of depth that I don't think I've seen in any of his other characters. It was understated and quiet in that signature "just a guy" way that he tends to be, while still captivating everyone instantly with just how raw it was.

Not to say we haven't seen emotional depth in Gorgug. It's just that, compared to the other Bad Kids, Gorgug's journey and progression as a character has been very... impersonal? Like, yes, he found his birth parents, and he found friends who appreciate him, and he faced his insecurities about his intelligence, and he navigated relationship troubles, and his trial through the claustrophobic bug-tunnels was a horrifically-uncanny parallel to how he's spent his entire life trying to make himself as small as possible.

But how much of that has actually changed him from the Gorgug we started with? I would agree that he's definitely happier with his life, given all the loving and supportive people that have been added to it when it used to be just him and his parents. And he's certainly grown into himself and become more self-assured in his abilities, even if he's still, and always will be, our anxious little guy. And there's nothing wrong with that. I've always liked how Gorgug was a representation of all the little things. The subtle acts and kindnesses that don't seem like much to most, but to some are everything.

We don't need another Bad Kid living in fear that their mouth could be shit-in at any moment. We've already got one-too-many.

All that being said, I just feel like Gorgug's personal story beats are much easier to sweep under the rug than everyone else's. He has the same soft and understated quality that Colin held, but they lack that extra oomph that pushed Colin over the edge from being just another guy in a series of dudes, to a character that the vast majority of us could not get out of our heads. He took someone who was anxious and softspoken, who ultimately never wanted to be violent— someone who is remarkably similar to Gorgug in many ways— and maintained that demeanor and core in Colin's character while still hitting us in the feels with character development at max velocity at every turn.

I think Zac gets better and better at this with every season that goes by. With each new character, there is always something that leaves me stunned in awe. And it's been, what, three? Four years since we last saw Gorgug?

I'm just,,, I'm cautiously optimistic but also going into a bit of a worry about what violence this man may inflict upon us

[cerise-on-top]

Hank, Sanford and Deimos with a Reader who does Handcrafts

Gonna post my old MadCom stuff since people seem interested in it! I didn't write too much back then, but I'll post it anyway and hope for some MadCom requests as well! What the title says! Reader knits, crochets and embroiders in this! The format is different from how I usually write, but that's because I wrote this months ago, if not in 2022! I don't remember when, but it's been a while since I wrote this!

Hank

If you get his attention while doing one of your crafts, expect him to just stare at you for a while. He knows what knitting is, since you can use those needles to stab someone with enough force, but he never really cared much for any of it. So, seeing you do those small, but precise movements has him somewhat curious. If you beckon him closer to check out what you’re doing, he will approach you, taking your piece from your hands and gently examining it, before returning it to you.

While he won’t join you that often due to his occupation, Hank will lie down next to you from time to time, watching you work until he falls asleep eventually. Doing so next to you, especially when you’re knitting or doing embroidery, takes a lot of trust on his behalf, so it’s a rather rare occurrence, but it might happen. Still, sometimes even Nevada’s most wanted can’t resist getting some sleep in.

If you give him a scarf or anything of the likes it might seem like he doesn’t like it at first. As he only grunts in acknowledgement and doesn’t wear it, it might seem disheartening at first glance. But rest assured, he’s well aware that him wearing it would only get it covered in blood, and he wouldn’t want your creation, that you put so much love into, to get sullied like that. Hank does keep it somewhere hidden where only he can find it so that it won’t get stolen as well, he truly does treasure anything you give him.

Sanford

He has helped his mother crocheting every once in a while when he was young by holding her wool for her. Sanford always thought it to be really cool how you can make something so beautiful out of something as simple as wool and yarn. Much like he did when he was younger, he’ll hold your yarn for you, making it more comfortable to knit or crochet for you. Unlike Hank and Deimos, he will try to learn it as well. It seems relaxing, so why not? But by no means is he a master. Due to his strength, he will likely rip the yarn and wool apart from time to time and come to you for help.

In order to relax and unwind a bit, he’ll likely come to you and ask if you would like to practise your craft for and with him. Having you around in and of itself already makes Sanford happy, but just getting to spend time with you without having to worry about being killed by the enemy makes it all the better. If you let him, he will hold you close, lean into you, put you on his lap, anything you’re comfortable with.

Please give him a sweater. Because he’s never wearing a shirt he gets cold fairly easily. He’ll cherish it dearly and wear it whenever he can, and whenever he knows it won’t get ripped. Another thing he’d be very happy with would be a piece of embroidery. It reminds him of better times and gives him hope, especially when your piece of art is something pleasant and sweet to look at. Because of that, he will put it up somewhere in his room where he can always see it. Even if Deimos makes fun of him for it, he will simply lightly jab at the smoker, all the while smiling at it.

Deimos

He’ll lovingly call you a grandma for having hobbies like these. Even while doing embroidery, where you stab things thousands of times, he will snicker at you whenever he catches you doing any of these things. Though, he doesn’t mind that sort of thing at all since that means you’ll be sitting still for a while, meaning you’ll give him a chance to unwind with him. Deimos will wrap his arms around you, leaning onto you or just cuddle into you in general. No fighting, no getting hurt, just watching you do the same movements over and over again.

Despite possibly calling you boring, he does have great respect for your craft, since he can’t do any of it. It’s too tedious and he can’t sit around for long enough doing something like this. It’s simply not exciting enough. But the moment you give him his first sweater, he will think it’s the most awesome thing to ever exist. Proud as a peacock, he will flaunt and taunt his new piece of clothing, especially to Sanford and Hank, declaring just what a great lover he has.

Present him with a plushie and his mind will be blown. He always thought knitting and crocheting are just for woolly hats and sweaters and scarves and all. If he sees you made him a tiny grunt, he will simply lose it, run around the Status Quo base and show everyone what you’re capable of. It doesn’t even matter to him whether or not it looks good. Your hands are magical to him and absolutely everyone has to know just how cool and epic you are.

[tonyglowheart]

"Does Shen Qiao even like Yan Wushi?"

I feel like it may be relatively easy for people to pick out "what does Yan Wushi like about Shen Qiao / what does YWS get out of yanshen." but I think a criticism/line of thought I see around is people struggling with "well what does Shen Qiao get out of all of this?" and like, "does SQ even like YWS, what with how YWS annoys him and gets him angry all the time."

But I think that actually is the crux of their relationship, lol. Because if you think about it, to everyone else, Shen Qiao is this lofty ideal, this untouchable immortal/仙, maybe even this obstacle or goal to conquer or shoot down.

Who else treats him casually and teases him and pokes at him to get emotional reactions out of him because they like that about him?

If he wants to seek people who treat him with respect and reverence, he just has to step out into the city square - hell, he just has to travel out and random people he meets are likely to treat him with that sort of dazzled awe or reverence too (we literally see this happen several times in the course of the novel).

So yeah, I think joking not joking, YWS makes him angry and feel Emotions and he likes that, YWS is enrichment for him, YWS pushes his buttons and his boundaries but reframing that it's pushing him out of his comfort zone and like hardening him off to the elements and realities of the world like a gardener with plants out of the greenhouse. But also, YWS treats him like a person, like a man, and not like Shen-daozun, Shen-daozhang, Shen-zhangjiao. To Yan Wushi, Shen Qiao is Shen Qiao. (and he loves to tease the shit out of him hehe (￣▽￣) )

CONVERSELY! This also gives Shen Qiao a space to *be* Shen Qiao. With Yan Wushi, he does not have to be Shen-daozun, Shen-daozhang, Shen-zhangjiao. He does not have to always be magnanimous and generous and a bastion of righteousness. These are in his nature, yet, but it's not ALL of his nature - he is, after all, still a man, a human, with human emotions -- including the full breadth of human emotions. Yes Yan Wushi annoys him and he shows it, but it's specifically BECAUSE of that that they are closer than him and anyone else in the world. He can "be himself" around Yan Wushi, he can get worked up and be petty and be snippy, and it's fine and won't cause catastrophes or undesired splashdown sociopolitical effects.

But also, he (lets himself?) get worked up by Yan Wushi - they HAVE that level of intimate understanding with each other where they can be like this and not have feelings hurt in any irreparable way. This isn't something that SQ does (lets himself do?) with just anyone, which we see throughout the novel reflected in his internal narration and comportment. So really, the fact that he DOES get annoyed with YWS shows that they are on a different, more "real" level with each other than SQ is with anyone else.

And like, they didn't get there in a day, sure, but imo we definitely see through the novel how they get there, so imo, the yanshen relationship is incredibly justified.

(I also say this bc I think literally every "I've connected the two dots" moments I've had in my reread, I would metaphorically flip the page only to be met with that connection I'd made spelled out on the page by MXS lmao. Like... yeah okay MXS *shakes your hand* you know your stuff. oh and also because I do think there may be some level of skepticism about yanshen esp from SQ's side floating around lol, but like... MXS did the legwork! yes chapter 45 happened, yes YWS never "apologizes" with words, but that doesn't mean that they don't share a deep mutual understanding of themselves and each other by the end, nor that they haven't moved past the events of literally 83 chapters ago, 96 if you count the extras -- a whole literal two-thirds of the novel ago. Like, I know we piss on the poor here and many educational systems around the world are in shambles these days, but work on developing reading comprehension skills, pls :') )

(lmao rip this post got long AGAIN. well, hopefully at least some people are reading all of this lol.)

[fredoesque]

ok so yesterday i saw this post about the wedding imagery in hickey's trial scene and left a tag about iphigenia at aulis. and in the time since that comparison has spiraled entirely out of control

i was initially just referring to the way the play draws parallels between the rituals of a wedding and those of sacrifice/death and the way the two start to overlap throughout

but then i started thinking about how iphigenia's sacrifice serves both as a illustration of the violence of war turned inwards and simultaneously as the catalyst for said violence turned outwards. killing iphigenia highlights the actual human cost of war by exacting it on a familiar insider, not just a nameless enemy. but her death is also the only reason the war can take place at all--the chorus even calls her the destroyer of troy near the end

and that reminded me of hickey and his unique relationship with the violence of the british navy; of the british characters he is undeniably the one that suffers most at its hands, yet he is also a driving force in perpetuating violence--in general, but also specifically towards the inuit

and i know i'm not the first person to point out that hickey is both a victim and a perpetrator of the violence of the empire, but i find it fascinating to approach that dichotomy through the lens of (ritual) sacrifice. it adds a new dimension to not just the trial, but basically all his scenes that are concerned with said violence. his own death (during a botched ritual no less) is actually a great example; it doubles as the final nail in tuunbaq's coffin. he dies not just for or because of the empire's interests; it's the very act of him dying that causes said interests to be furthered

anyway all that to say hickey thinks he's christ and he's wrong but that doesn't mean he's not a lamb on the altar

[not-available-for-comment]

“Image-obsessed celebrity can’t be struggling behind the scenes because being ultra-famous and almost pathologically protective of your public image is famously a very mentally healthy experience with no psychological downsides” is just as much of a dogshit parasocial take as “famous straight conventionally attractive if sometimes cryptic celebrity is leaving secret puzzles to prove to me specifically that she’s gay”.

You don’t know these people. YOU DON’T KNOW THESE PEOPLE. You can just like or dislike the music and it will be ok. I will not send the art cops to your house. Go to a coffee shop and put a tenner in the busker’s guitar case if you’re that exercised about it.

Also, not for nothing, being wealthy can be helpful with mental illness, but pushy stage parents and legions of obsessive fans historically Are Not. We’ve somehow blown straight past “money can’t buy happiness but it can pay for rent and doctor’s appointments which sure fucking help” to “no rich person has had a real problem ever” and I regret to inform you that that second statement is what the original platitude is about. It is, tragically, possible to have rent and groceries and doctors bills and cute clothes paid for without a second’s thought and still have a bad time of it, because even rich people are human beings who come from families of human beings and have human friends and lovers and staff and coworkers and part of the human condition is that sometimes some of us suffer.

I get the impulse to be resentful of someone singing about having a hard time when the spare change from between her couch cushions would easily save your life. I’ve been through a period of my life where I tried not to obviously resent my friends for *having food*. It’s ok if you can’t listen to her for that reason and in fact I’d argue that you shouldn’t. It’s painful, and it’s not the kind of pain that produces anything worthwhile, just more resentment. But “she’s making up alcoholism for clout” is such a deeply stupid way to phrase that. You don’t know her. What if she isn’t? What if she IS? Making up personas is literally part of her brand. Do you need a hug? Sincerely. I think a hug would maybe be more productive here. I’m sorry things are hard. It’s not fair. You’re right. It isn’t.

I just think one slightly overexposed pop singer is maybe not the main reason it’s hard.

[sarellathesphinx]

Both square enix and other players can take the idea that Cait has his own personality and sense of will separate from Reeve from my mummified hands