#anyway thank you for coming to my ted talk i love them forever and will be thinking about them forever

[denkryn]

“You had a chance at life with love and music; dresses fit for a lady and you wasted it. You left everyone behind, again. And what did you do with this life, that you were given? What did you do? What did you do?”

“I told someone our name.”

[imjustvibingyaknow]

Hehehehehehehe,,,,,, gay,,,,,,,

[pedgito]

please please PLEASE do a blurb of eddie fucking the reader and shes like struggling and saying “have.. to.. be.. quiet” while eddie is just cooing her telling her that she doesn’t/no one is home

author’s note: i will die on the hill of ‘struggling to be quiet’ fucking, thank you for coming to me ted talk and i hope you enjoy my poorly written smut.

cw: 18+ (minors dni), unprotected sex (pulling out), exhibitionism (sort of), eddie being a menace, just another reason to write depraved smut

word count: 1.6k

You were accustomed to the quickies that happened, more often than not, in the back of Eddie’s trailer—early mornings, late nights. Eddie wasn’t particularly fond of fucking you in the back of his van anymore, feeling rushed and uncomfortable, and you deserved to be treated beautifully—not forced onto your knees in the back of some metal death machine, scrapping them up for the sheer idea of getting laid. You deserved a bed, at least—but the only downside to that, despite his lack of being a teen, Eddie still lived with his uncle.

And as often as Wayne was gone, he also couldn’t stay gone forever. Most of the time it could be managed without worry—Wayne was gone more evenings and nights, aside from the rare occasion he had a day off, but Eddie didn’t have any qualms when it came to you and when he needed you—and there really was no denying him, not when you wanted it just as badly.

His uncle doesn’t question when you start staying overnight, it’s not his business and he knows Eddie’s grown and level-headed enough to make good decisions—and you’re good for Eddie, he sees it in the way Eddie carries himself now and in the way he does everything possible to accommodate to you first—it really isn’t necessary, but Wayne raised him to be a gentleman and he’d be damned if he didn’t see that through.

Regardless, Eddie loves to catch you at the most inconvenient times—particularly the warm, summer weekends when Wayne was off, saddled up on the couch in the living room catching up on the latest sports game, television blasting through the trailer.

He knew. He had to.

Besides, Wayne had been nice enough to give Eddie the only bedroom in the trailer—and as a hormonal kid in his last year of high school, it was probably for the best.

He shuts the door with a soft click, the mix of his radio and the booming television drowning out everything else—still, when he fucks you, his hand is clasped tightly over your mouth to drown out every last moan he pulls from you.

Eddie loves it, face lighting up in excitement as you struggled to keep quiet, eyes nearly rolling back in your head at how hard he was fucking into you, panting his own soft breaths over the back of his hand, his face so close your eyelashes could touch.

“Fuck,” He groans brokey, voice cracking on his final thrust, pulling out swiftly to come over the soft expanse of your stomach, pulling his hand away from your mouth,“—baby—“

It’s too loud for your liking, springing up from your reclined position to clasp your hand over his mouth, his eyes falling shut as he tugs at his dick, working through the aftershocks of his orgasm. He mumbled something against the palm of your hand, another curse or filthy remark, you’re not sure—but you’re more than thankful to have muffled his mouth because there was no surviving the shame of having to walk back to the entrance of the trailer after this.

When Eddie finally calms down, releasing his dick to pull at your hand, he’s laughing—and you can’t help but look at him with absurdity, shoving gently at his bare stomach.

“Eddie,” You say in a hushed voice of warning, “are you trying to get us caught?”

“He’s not stupid,” Eddie replies half-heartedly, shrugging, “He probably went out for a couple smokes anyways—he usually does.”

“Still,” You stress, “If you can’t wait, at least don’t make it so fucking obvious.”

Eddie smiles, tipping your chin up with his forefinger, the curved metal of his ring bumping against the skin.

“You can always say no,” Eddie reminds you playfully, “It didn’t seem like you cared a few minutes ago.”

Your eyes narrow, trying to look as intimidating as you could despite your soft features, “I was trying to be quiet. You were being loud on purpose.”

“You feel good.” He defends weakly, “Sue me.”

You roll your eyes fondly, swatting his hand away gently.

“Well, for my sake, try a little harder please?”

Eddie agrees with cautious regret, knowing he definitely didn’t have enough self control, but if it was for you—he would. And it becomes normal after time, almost too easy, and Eddie takes full advantage of it.

You’ve never fucked in a storage closet, let alone at school, but it’s something you can say you’ve tried at least once—all thanks to Eddie’s steadfast determination. He’s even bold enough to fuck you in the bathroom of your parent’s home during a big dinner with other friends and family—and no one had a clue. Eddie always knew how to take full advantage of every situation, both a blessing and a curse.

But when the rare occasion does come, leaving you both alone for the night and Eddie free of his Hellfire duties, it’s like you don’t know how to handle yourself, forcing yourself to keep quiet out of habit.

You pull your bottom lip tight between your teeth, snuffing out the soft whines begging to escape, the slow, full thrust of Eddie’s hips overwhelming when mixed with his calloused fingers working at your already sensitive clit. He moans unabashed, tossing his head back to throw his hair over his shoulder, free hand gripping your hip like a vice, pulling you against him just as eagerly as he thrust into you.

“Love watching you like this,” Eddie says softly, voice shot from pleasure, “—look so pretty on my cock, sweetheart.”

You nod jerkily, agreeing with whatever he said at that point, brows pulling together in concentration, mouth falling open on a soundless gasp.

“What’s wrong?” He asks teasingly, tongue peeking out past his lips and near the corner of his mouth, smug as fucking ever.

“Have to—“ You pant softly, “have to be quiet, Eddie.”

Eddie pouts endearingly, pulling you against him in a rough snap of his hips, your hands grabbing at his messy sheets.

“No, baby,” He shakes his head, “—it’s just us.”

“But—“ You start to protest, but Eddie's hand comes to grab at your face, gentle despite his quickening pace, less restrained than earlier. “—what if your neighbors, you know—“

It was true, sound traveled far too well in the tiny trailer park—but Eddie couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“I want to hear you,” Eddie tells you honestly, eyes falling upon your face, mouth gaping open in his grip, you nod slightly, “—unless you need me to force it out of you.”

And he could with no problem.

“Turn around,” He instructs softly, pulling out momentarily to adjust your hips until you push up onto your knees, face shoved gently into the mattress, “don’t hold back, baby.”

Eddie came in with a plan, sliding into you with ease, hips snapping at a hurried pace that had you gasping into the sheets, even then they were muffled, all semblance of thought and self control gone, practically drooling into his sheets at the brutal pace he’d set.

It isn’t enough for Eddie though, his hand winding into the back of your hair until it hits the root, yanking your head up tenderly—the strain is bordering on uncomfortable, but it’s worth it, the sound he releases as he thrusts into you with furious precision.

“Fuck—you feel so good,” He says in a haze, head tilted down to watch himself sink into you, squeezing at the dip of your hip, “squeezing me so tight, sweetheart.”

You nod, mumbling a soft “Uh huh,” in response, but it’s not what Eddie wants—he knows you have it in you, keeping it so calmly at bay.

“Am I making you feel good, too?” Eddie asks teasingly, another quiet nod, the motion weak against his tight hold on your hair. “Say it, baby—who makes you feel like this?”

“You,” You reply softly, pulling gently against his grip until he lets go, palms pressed against the bed to keep you upright, using your own momentum to slam your hips back against him, plunging Eddie so deep your vision feels like it goes spotty, “—fuck, you do.”

“Say it, sweetheart.” He instructs in a sweet tone, leaning back on his calves until you’re seated in his lap, “say my name.”

You gasp as his fingers reach around to find your clit in a desperate attempt to pull you to a quick orgasm—“Eddie.”

“Louder.”

You sob softly, the muscles of your legs twitching as the pressure builds, your body going white hot with euphoric pleasure as you come around Eddie’s cock, crying out a broken, “EddieEddieEddie—“

Eddie curses as he comes a few seconds after, over the swell of your ass, feeling desperate to catch your breath. He leans down a moment later, pressing a soft kiss to the middle of your back, running his hands along your arms gently. He lifts you up slowly until you can face him again, face at chest level from where he stood above you. His face is outlined by the low light of the room, another satisfied grin pulling at his face.

“Don’t act so innocent,” Eddie teases, “I knew you had it in you.”

You roll your eyes light-heartedly, shoving your fist against his abdomen gently, his fingers coming to wrap around your wrist with ease.

“I never said I didn’t.” You counter and Eddie grins even wider.

It’s safe to say that Eddie goes out of his way to make sure the trailer is always cleared from then on, never depriving himself of such an experience ever again.

[iokheira0541]

I've been thinking about the whole Tav being turned into a vampire thing. Considering the context ("...if you just go along with whatever they want to do, you may find yourself ... turned into a vampire..."), the one turns Tav can only be Astarion himself. At that point, He probably has drunk Cazador's blood with Tav's help. Larian made it sound like a bad ending. It's actually far from that if you give the situation a second thought. (Larian could forgot the word 'spawn', but let's assume they didn't.)

According to Astarion, to become a true vampire, you need to be a vampire spawn first. He also said that the greast threat to a vampire was another vampire, therefore no vampire fancies the idea of turning a slave into a rival. If Tav is turned into a true vampire at the end of Astarion's quest, it means two things. First, Astarion allows Tav to drink his blood knowing they could be his potential enemy with the power he hands over to them. I mean, with all that vampire power, Tav may just leave him alone or even kill him. Second, Tav allows Astarion to turn them into his spawn. What if Astarion changes his mind after having the very first slave? Though he won't treat Tav as a servant, it doesn't make 'losing free will forever' sound better. Actually, it will be pretty bad.

And now we have the conclusion. In this particular ending, Astarion and Tav must love each other SO SO SO much. They know all the risks, yet they choose to entrust their own life to each other. THINK ABOUT IT. THINK ABOUT ASTARION TRUSTING AND LOVING TAV WITH HIS WHOLE HEART.

Anyway we will find it out in 18 years... I mean 18 days.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

(I haven't written anything in English for years. Please ignore all the grammar mistakes if there are any.)

[commander-rahrah]

Talking to the Moon: Part IV

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader Word Count: ~4700 Warnings: swearing, PTSD, trauma, past/implied abuse, fluff, angst, emotional hurt/comfort

archiveofourown: here

masterlist: here

part I: here part II: here  part III: here

Summary: Set at the end Act II in the Gauntlet of Shar. Shadowheart finally faces Reader/Tav's blessing from Selûne in the temple of her dark mistress.

Notes: We finally got to the angsty part between Reader and Shadowheart muahaha. I've had a couple of these lines stuck in my head FOREVER. Does anyone else play the game and immediately start thinking of the scenario and more detailed dialogue for their specific Tav?? No.. just me? ahaha...

Also — Shadowheart rejects Shar in this, as an FYI. If that isn’t your cup of tea or prefer other decisions, etc. that is your discretion for your own game, etc.! For the purpose of my fic and this specific Tav, that is the route I took and don’t want it to be a debate! 👍🏽 Cause I know that happens in fandom sometimes - and that’s not what this fangirl is about baby!

I also just really really love the idea of letting Astarion and Reader/Tav explore things sloooooooooowly. Like little tiny fingertip touches and touching shoulders. I think that Astarion being emotionally vulnerable with someone first and slowly building up to being physical intimate is just MUAH chef’s kiss.

ANYWAYS Ted talk over — Thank you so much for reading and interacting! It means so much to me ♡♡♡

.·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨

“Tell me another thing.”

It was Astarion’s new favorite game — asking for you to confide in him, to tell him about how you see him. The things that made you fall for him. 

Each one had made him feel more and more seen. More and more safe. Some had been surprising characteristics he would have never assigned to himself — but you had explained them so earnestly that he couldn’t help but believe you. You had said he was strong, that he had more strength than he realized. That he was funny (obviously). That he was open-minded. 

He was collecting the compliments and observations, letting them stroke the flame inside of him that he had long thought dead. 

“Hmmm…,” You were sat on the worn, dirty floor leaning against a crumpling wall. The group was taking a moment to rest after another harrowing trial in Shar’s Gauntlet. Squinting your eyes you pretended to study him, before speaking, “I like how materialistic you are.” 

“Oh." Something akin to shame flooded through him. "I don’t like this one, pick another.”

A chuckle escaped you, shaking your head. “That’s not how this works.” 

The vampire frowned at your laughter, “This one seems like some back handed compliment." He turned his nose up, trying to mask the small twinge of pain spreading in his chest, "Just tell me I’m pretty instead.” 

You finally recognized the hurt, the smile vanishing from your face. “Astarion, I swear it's not a backhanded compliment. It’s something I genuinely like.” You sounded earnest, you looked solemn. 

He met your wide eyes, nodding as he believed you. “Hmph. Why?” 

“Well, you know I come from a noble background… I grew up with certain luxuries and I miss them." You admitted, your nose scrunched. "It’s nice to have someone who also appreciates the finer things in life.” 

He realized that you thought it was trivial to admit such things, surrounded by death as you all embarked on a seemingly impossible mission. But you were being honest and vulnerable with him in the broken hallway of the dark temple. 

He kept his tone light, smirking at you. “I do have good taste.” 

“Excellent taste. You would love the keep I grew up in, the art and amenities…" You closed your eyes as if you imagined them right there. "I dream of them on cold nights on my bedroll.” 

“Hmmm, tell me about them tonight when we are holed up in our tent.”  

Our tent. A slip of his tongue, but it really had become that way. You rarely were in your own tent anymore, only enough to change and store your things before you were slinking into his.  

“I’ll take you there someday and you can see it yourself.” 

His eyebrows shot up his face, shock morphing his features. You thought that far ahead? Taking him to see your home? Meeting your family? 

You smiled at his reaction, before filling in for his stunned silence. “And… you’re very pretty.” 

A puff of air escaped through his nose, his lips quirking. “Oh I know.” He stretched his fingers, before sweeping his thumb across the back of your knuckles. “Thank you," He whispered. 

You smiled at his touch, your eyes darting to where his pale fingers met yours. 

The pair of you stayed in that quiet moment, until it was broken by the sound of a swear echoing down the length of the crumbling hallway. "Shit!"

Karlach and Shadowheart were sat across the hallway, the tiefling putting on a new bandage across the half elf's small palm — or was attempting to. The cleric had sliced her palm three times now, offering her blood in the name of her dark mistress before every trial. The party had winced every time she did it — but the woman never faltered. 

And she didn’t not heal it with her divine abilities, instead letting the wound remain, cutting into it deeper with each trial and then only wrapping it up. She said it was intentional, purposeful pain that her Goddess demanded. And that she alone would pay the price for it. 

Astarion had immediately marked the strain in your face as she said it. Knew that you wanted nothing more then to remind her that she was not alone, that she could be anything, anyone she wanted to be.

But the words had remained unspoken. Like you didn't have the right to say them to her anymore. 

The vampire was now watching you watch them — studying you once again, trying to decipher how you were feeling. Karlach continued her efforts, but her large fingers fumbled as she tried to tie the knot and the bandages fell off again. 

"Godsdammit! Sorry, Princess." She said sheepishly, snatching the bandages up quickly. 

"It's okay, Karlach." Shadowheart shook her head, looking down at her hand and squeezing it into a fist. She winced from the pain, a hiss coming from her mouth. 

"May I?" Your voice was soft, quiet as a mouse. But not so quiet that Shadowheart did not hear you. She flashed her eyes over to you, her face contorted with genuine surprise. The cleric said no words, instead nodding and offering her hand out. 

Astarion remained sitting, watching as you stood up and crossed the hallway to the two women. You knelt before her, bowing your head slightly as you grabbed the bandages and began to wind them tenderly around Shadowheart's hand. If it were another moment, another person, the vampire would be jealous. Wishing he had a wound himself so that you could offer your services and gentle touches. 

But this was monumental. Not only was it a rare sight — one blessed by Selûne taking care of one of Shar’s disciples. But it was an olive branch, a silent offering that meant much more then those bandages. An offering of peace and acceptance. 

He was sure he saw Shadowheart's eyes lining with silver as you worked, the bob of her throat as she swallowed thickly. With a slight cough, you made to stand back up. "All done." You said in a hushed voice. But before you could stand up, the cleric grabbed your elbow. 

"Thank you," She choked out. The gratitude was for more then just this moment, he imagined. 

You bowed your head again, "Of course." As you marched back across the hallway, Astarion stood up to meet you. He ducked his head to look at your face, a silent conversation passing between you as your eyes met. An art the two of you had begun to master already. 

Are you alright?

I will be. 

He blinked and nodded in understanding, before falling into step at your side. 

• • •

Every place they explored in the Shadowlands somehow topped the previous wretched place. If Astarion never had to step foot in a temple of Shar again, it would be too soon. 

The air surrounding them was freezing, and the hairs on his arms and back of his neck had been standing up for what felt like hours. It felt like eyes were always on him, trailing after your group and judging every step taken. 

Glancing behind him, he waited for you to step onto the disc with the rest of the party. You were hesitating on the edge, the smallest tremble in your hand as you stared down at the floor. "Darling?"

Your face shot up, like his voice snapped you back to reality. You looked rattled, completely shaken. 

Astarion extended his hand out to you, beckoning you forward. He grabbed your hand easily, pulling you into him with a questioning glance before letting go. The rest of your party was looking at you, worry forming in their features. 

You had all but stepped into him, your shoulder pressed into his. He actually didn't mind it one bit. 

“You look pale, are you feeling okay?” He kept his voice low, his mouth downturned. 

You gathered yourself for a moment, before flashing him a smirk. “I’m pale? Coming from the vampire himself?” 

“Ha," He rolled his red eyes. "Trust me, my sweet. I’ve memorized the flush of your features by now — something’s off.” 

Your eyes settled on Shadowheart for a moment, before looking down at your boots. “I think it’s being in here… Her gift is straining inside me.” 

Her gift, Selûne's blessing. You didn't dare say the Goddess' name in Shar's ruined temple. The rest of the party had heard the tale over the campfire about a week ago. While most of their faces had been filled with awe and astonishment when you had told them then, now their faces were only anxious. 

“Oh gods, you’re not going to...?" Wyll trailed off, his brows furrowed together. 

“Drop dead? I hope not.” You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. 

“Not funny.” Astarion hissed, flashing you a look. The sentiment was echoed by Gale, chastising you for saying such things. 

You quirked your mouth, before wrapping your arms around your torso. "I'll be fine." 

Suddenly, there was a loud click and the disc you all stood on began moving — descending deeper into the ruins. 

Astarion heard the heartbeats of the entire party begin to increase, the thrumming pounding in his ears. None were as loud as the rhythm of your heart. 

Then the scent of your fear filled his nostrils. 

He could think of no words, no quips or jokes. The dark ruins had been taxing, draining. And he did not know what to expect at the bottom of this temple. 

But he was afraid too. Afraid for you, for both of you. 

The disc settled below with another audible click, and as the rest of the party began to move off of it and deeper into the next area you stayed planted where you were. 

The vampire stayed with you, eyeing your complexion that was turning paler by the minute. Your breaths labored as you blinked, long and slowly. His red eyes followed your line of sight — to Shadowheart and Karlach. 

The half-elf and tiefling were standing before large ornate doors, shoulder to shoulder. Their hands were intertwined, fingers laced together as they continued to stare the door down. 

Your eyes were fixed on their hands, before you licked your lips and spoke quietly — only for him to hear. "Would you be okay with that?”

His brows furrowed together in confusion. “With what?” 

“A touch like that.” 

A bewildered look crossed his features. Here? Now? This is where you wished to discuss such things. Moments before stepping into the unknown darkness of the mistress of night. He stepped in front of you, his back to the rest of the party as he looked you in the face. 

“Holding hands? What next, you want to cuddle?” He teased with his sharp tongue.

The smallest twist in your features was your only tell. Anyone else would have missed it — a flash of sadness at his rejection. 

He suddenly realized it. Longing. You had been looking at the pair holding hands with longing, yearning to be touched like that right now. "You want that, don't you?"

You stiffened, as if you had said the wrong thing. You stumbled over your words, immediately backtracking, “Not if you don’t want to. I'm sorry, I just thought—“ 

His eyes softened at your reaction, “You’re upset.” 

“No, never." You shook your head, your voice unwavering. "It’s your choice, Starry.” 

“I’m not the only person in this—" In this, what? Finish the sentence, Astarion. He thought to himself. "Is it, something you would like to do?” 

“Maybe." You licked your lips, before nodding self-consciously. "Yes, but only if you were okay with it.” 

“I can try." He whispered sincerely, before looking back over his shoulder to the group. Shadowheart and Karlach remained at each other's side, their fingers still intertwined in a tight grasp. "I just— I don’t really understand it. The touch I’m used to is… sensual, erotic. Or incredibly violent. I thought touch was only supposed to lead to some explosive end, one way or another. What’s the point of it?” 

“It’s comforting, holding the person you care about. Feeling their presence with you, when you need it." You admitted, your eyes unguarded as you looked at him.  

He recalled how he felt when you had held him in your arms in the river. How he had let his fingers linger and hold onto you as you pulled away from that first hug. The overwhelming urge he had sometimes to just be near you. He could understand that feeling, he knew that feeling now. He just wasn't sure how to act on it. 

"I think I'd like that." He agreed, the corners of his mouth pulling up with a hopeful expression. "I will try." 

You smiled back at him, the pair of you momentarily forgetting where you stood. What was to happen next. What could happen next. 

As you made to finally step off of the disc, he called your name softly — halting your movement. "We will get to try."

It was a promise. A vow.

No dark mistress or Absolute or bastard vampire master would stop him from having you. 

You nodded, smiling back at him before moving to join the others. 

The group was cautious as they entered into the final chamber, the hundreds of candles in the room suddenly lighting with an eerie purple flame. The coloured flames flickered and cast dancing shadows on the stones around them, all leading to a pool of still water. A ginormous, untouched statue of the Mistress of Night stood in it — her arms outstretched, beckoning you forward. 

"This must be the last step. I need to pray. Only by Lady Shar's grace did we even make it this far." Shadowheart fell to her knees immediately, offering silent prayers to the intimidating figure ahead. Karlach stayed loyally at her side, but her brows were crinkled with worry. 

Everyone lingered behind, unsure of how to proceed. 

"I'm ready." The dark-haired cleric spoke, determination flashing in her features as she stood up. The spear she had fought and bled for in the trials strapped to her back. She held a boot over the unmoving water for a moment, hesitating for a moment before stepping into it. 

A voice spoke throughout the chamber, echoing and rattling the stones. The candles flickered with her voice, as if the magnificent voice caused the cold breeze that suddenly filled the room. "You are so close, my child. So close to fulfilling your destiny. And is that another trophy you bring for me? You honor me with your dedication.“ 

The party turned to stare at you. Shar was aware of who you are, of what lingered in you. Astarion swear he saw Shadowheart’s bottom lip tremble as her gaze fell on you again. 

But you put on your practiced expression of calm, nodding at your companions to continue. But as you stood on the precipice of the pool, Astarion noticed your fingers twitching at your side. 

It should have been be so easy for him to reach out and hold them, like you said you wanted. He had been daring himself to touch you more lately — a brush of his knuckle against yours, tucking an unruly strand of hair behind your ear. He was trying. He wanted to, so badly. 

But something was holding him back. A weight on his chest and lungs that made it feel him feel so tainted and undeserving for such things. 

He hesitated for too long, and your hand was moving away as you stepped into the sparkling water. So he took his own steps in. The water was ice cold, instantly sending goosebumps over his entire body. Then a frozen sensation that went deep into his half-dead body. It began clutching at him, at everything he was and ever could be. 

His red eyes widened, searching frantically for you beside him — his hand reaching out wildly for you before he was suddenly pulled under. 

• • •

The last thing you had seen was Shar’s menacing face —looming over you, spelling your end. A blanket of cold had surrounded you, tightening unbearably around your ankles and wrists before yanking you down into the darkness. 

You had never been afraid of the dark before. 

You could no longer say that. 

With a gasp, you wretched your eyes open to find yourself somewhere new. Standing on a craggy rock, floating in raging winds and surrounded by streaks of lightning. A living storm of black and purple swirling around you. 

"Lady Shar...," Shadowheart's voice was quiet — her tone a strange mixture of astonishment and fear. "I can feel her all around. This is her domain. This is the Shadowfell.”

“Bloody hells.” Gale muttered, the wizard's mouth a hardline. 

“We best keep moving.” Lae'zel ordered, eyeing the surroundings with a look of disgust on her face. 

You all murmured in agreement, before traveling down the precarious craggy rocks until you were at the very bottom. You hesitated at the site of a person— a pale, large woman dressed in only shredded rags.

The Nightsong. 

She stood in the centre of several complicated sigils, the symbols radiating a sickly green. Her head flicked up to your group, her eyes narrowing as she inspected every single party member. Before they settled on you, and softened. 

“I recognize you." Her voice was hoarse at first, like she hadn't spoken out loud in ages. "You aren’t a sibling… But I recognize you. Why are you so familiar to me?” She cocked her head at you, her eyes studying you. There was a flicker in them — hope.

Her hair shined silver like yours, but her eyes glowed even brighter. Much more than any mortal could. Your mouth fell open as you realized. She was not blessed by a divine being like you, she was immortal herself. 

“You are...“ 

“A child of the gods.” She finished for you, and even clad in nothing but rags she stood tall at the words.  

“Selûne’s?”

Your mind raced as you put together the pieces, the ritual on the stone similar to the secret room of Balthazar. Kethric’s undying nature. She was bound here in the Shadowfell — being syphoned like those fairies in the lanterns. And the dark justiciar’s — they used her, killed her like a bounty for their goddess. Over and over. As Shadowheart was meant to do now. 

But you. You were bound to nothing, and you were not born from the goddess — only a mortal woman, who feared for her child. A mortal mother who was thousands of miles away, not knowing where her child now stood, not knowing that they were waiting to see if a spear would be driven through their chest too.

"My mother spoke of you once. I don't think that even she knew we would meet." The daughter of Selûne eyes shone with quiet understanding. The flicker of hope in them still catching light somehow in the dark storm in the Shadowfell as she stared at you. 

Shadowheart stepped forward, toeing the edge of the ritual symbols carved onto the floor. Her face was stoic, determined. Yet she refused to look at you. 

"But you.” The woman’s eyes dragged to the cleric, her voice a vicious snarl. “YOU. You, who have come to seek the praise of your wicked goddess. You, who have come to drive a dagger through my heart." 

"Not a dagger — a spear. My Lady Shar's spear. Your fate is mine to seal." You noticed Shadowheart's hands were trembling fists at her side. 

"The fate that you seal is your own. To be a Dark Justiciar is to turn your heart from everything but loss. You will know no love, no joy — only servitude." Karlach stiffened next to Shadowheart, concern etching every feature of her red face. "Until, of course, your mistress inevitably discards you. And there is much she does not tell you — a terrible blood price that may extend beyond my own death. Beyond your companion's."

The cleric looked over her shoulder to you, her eyebrows furrowed. You said nothing, keeping your face steady. 

But it was the first she looked you in the eyes since you found yourself in the dark place. Truly met your gaze. And the rage and betrayal you had first seen in them that day she learned the truth about you had lost their heat. Instead you saw only pain and regret. 

Astarion made to move in front of you, to act as your shield as Shadowheart turned her attention on you. But you waved your hands at your side, silently asking him to stop. 

You knew the rest of your party waited with bated breath for you to intervene, to speak up for this woman, for yourself. 

But instead, you held Shadowheart’s gaze and waited. 

The Nightsong spoke again, drawing her attention away from you. "You may think you know what they are, but do you know what I am, little assassin? For I know you — a lost child, frightened by wolves in the dark." 

"What did you say?" 

"Much has been promised to you, hasn't it? But what has been taken from you?" She asked sadly, her eyes piercing through Shadowheart. "What do you know of your own heart — your own life? I sense more in you then you know." 

"I—" The spear was suddenly summoned into her hand, her light coloured eyes widening as she feels its weight. It was as if Shar would wait no longer, and would thrust the weapon into her hands and guide it through the Nightsong if need be. "I..." She raised it up, inspecting the intricate designs and deadly tip of the spear. The bottom of her eyes filled with silver as she studied it. 

And just as fast as it was summoned, it was gone. Soaring over the party's heads, away and into the swirling storm below them. 

You let loose the breath you didn't know you were holding.

It was echoed by a sigh of relief from the rest of the party. 

Shadowheart's mouth was agape, staring into her empty hands and then to you. A humorless laugh escaped her, like she was in a state of shock. "I can't believe I just did that. Lady Shar will disown me... what will happen to me?"  

"Not what will happen — what will you do? Your past is not yet lost. Your future is not yet fixed. Lay a hand on me in friendship, not-quite Sharran, and I will fight the battle that been waiting for me this last century." The large woman knelt before them, bowing her head. "Then — oh then, we will have much to discuss. All of us." She looked up to nod at you, still standing on the edge of the circle. 

The cleric stepped forward with more certainty then she had in most of the trials in Shar's Gauntlet. Her head held high before she grasped the child of the god on her shoulder. Suddenly the green of the binding ritual turned into a bright, silver light. The woman fell to all fours as the silver light traveled through her.  

"Our lady of Silver. Hear me! She Who Guides, the Moonmaiden Selûne — mother of the so-called Nightsong. THE NIGHTSONG IS NO MORE!" Then she began to levitate in the air, a shining light of white and silver wrapped around her before large wings spread from her back, and spectral armor and sword appearing upon her body and in her hands.

The group was amazed as they watched her fly up and up. Before she landed with a gentle thud.

A child of a god indeed. 

"I am resplendent. You have given me a great gift, little warrior." She nudged Shadowheart's chin with a gloved hand, before stepping back. "Come now — there is a battle to be fought." 

"My kin," She looked back to you, her eyes and brow set in a determined line. "Are you ready?"

"Ready for what?" You asked, stepping forward until you were at Shadowheart's side. 

"To kill Ketheric Thorm." She flashed a wolfish grin that was filled with a controlled rage. Vengeance and justice was to be served by that glowing spectral sword in her hand. With a large woosh, she was soaring into the air and vanishing back to the mortal plane. 

• • •

It wasn't until you were out of the Shadowfell, away from Gauntlet and endless depictions of Shar that you all finally spoke. 

The cool air of the Shadowlands was welcoming for the first time since you had arrived. Astarion watched as you took large gulps of air, your hands resting on your hips as you centered yourself again. The colour was already returning to your cheeks, your heart slowing to a familiar rhythm. 

He made to reach out for you, but Shadowheart got there first. A look of surprise flashed across your face as she threw herself at you. "I don't— I don't know what to say." She muttered into your shoulder. 

You swallowed hard before holding her back fiercely, your mouth quivering. "You don't have to say anything. I forgive you."

Astarion blinked. You gave her your forgiveness so easily, much easier then he would have. But wasn't that one of the things he was so fond of? Your kind heart, your innate goodness. That even though he didn't feel he deserved your attention, or that Shadowheart deserved to be forgiven, you still granted it to them. Your kindness was not just for him, but for everyone in the group. The hubris wizard and seasoned fighter who didn't think they were enough. The warlock and barbarian ripped from their homes. The manipulated manipulators who were used and discarded.  

“You can't—You can't just forgive me." She pulled away from you, staring at you like you had gone mad. "What I did, what I almost did — I almost didn’t bring you back that day, oh gods—" Her hand moved over her mouth, her brows meeting in the middle. 

“But you did.”

“But if I didn’t—" Her voice broke.

You grabbed her by the shoulders, ducking your head to look at her. “But you did. And we will not speak of the past any longer. But we will get you answers for your own, okay?” 

"What she wanted me to do in there, what she's made me do..." A sob escaped Shadowheart, the sound breaking something in Astarion. Something that hit a little too close to home. His red eyes flickered to his boots as he tried to keep his own emotion at bay. 

Your next words were a whisper in her ear, too low for even his elven ears to hear. But you both nodded together, before Karlach was pulling the cleric into a hug of their own. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, whispering her own affections to her. 

Before the vampire could even try to will himself to do the same things for you, you were in front of him. He could see no hint of expectation on your face, only relief as you took him in. 

He ran the tip of his finger down your wrist, to the back of your hand, before trailing it in your palm. "That was all a little dramatic, wasn't it?"

A tired chuckle escaped you, "I'd thought you'd learned by now that we have a flair for it, don't we?"

"We certainly do." 

Suddenly, flashes of divine white power swept above you, before shooting fast across the sky — the light silhouetting a set of large wings. Without further thinking, Astarion threaded his pale fingers through yours, squeezing them slightly as he watched the light head closer and closer to the imposing tower in the distance. 

He gulped as you squeezed back. 

Your party watched the sky for a moment, silence filling the air before you all stared at each other. Your tired, aching bodies were begging for rest. But the world would not wait for you to rest. 

"To Moonrise?" Gale asked, a sad, tired smile on his face. 

"To Moonrise." You nodded, starting to march forward and lead the group forward. 

Astarion curled his pinky around yours as you meant to pull away, not quite ready to let you go again. 

Read part V here

[cursedconstellation]

Okay, so I know - "Supernatural obsession never leaves" this, and "Destiel brainworms are forever" that, but I'm about to raise a different point.

Supernatural is like your fucking ex that won't stop hitting you up. When you got together it was intoxicating, and you were borderline addicted to them, and when it was good it was euphoric, and when it was bad you felt like they were ripping your soul to pieces. And they gave you almost everything you wanted, and that almost was killing you. Almost stopped being enough, so you walked off and slammed the door on them. Or you just drifted apart until you thought you were over the relationship.

And at first, it's freeing. You find other people (media) to fixate on, and they're great too, but there's that looming feeling that perhaps nothing would compare. And your ex fucking texts you.

They're promising to satisfy your every need, and you try to resist, you know better- but the moment they said anything, you're gone. And you love it, and you hate it, and it sucks, and it rocks.

And every fucking time you think you're over them, there's that notification. Hitting you right where you need it. And you always end up back with them, be it for a month, year, what have you.

I am fully and utterly convinced no one on this hellsite and in this cursed fandom has a healthy relationship with Supernatural, and if you think you do, you're just in denial. That's non-negotiable.

Anyways, thank you for coming to my TED talk.

[anja-the-sane-panda]

An Over Analysis on Jack's Facial/Body Language in Locked out of Heaven

Note this is all my take on the map and my brain is literally broken so take this all with a fist full of salt.

Also this is SUPER LONG, so I apologize for giving y'all a collage essay on this.

VERSE ONE:

First let's talk about the face where he stares into the player's soul

It's pretty much a poker face which makes sense with his background. He probably perfected it over the years to just keep his mother quiet and not jump on him for not liking her plans. (Too much anyway)

But then he does the first move and his cocky side comes out in a blink of an eye. Like it's almost scary how quick he went from stiff and expressionless to sassy and confident. He's hyping himself up for the performance like how other performers would do quick vocal exercises or doing a quick shake to get their bodies and mind ready. Especially since this takes place after Witch where he looked both depressed

Now the pre-chorus

He is so happy to perform

this entire pre-chorus you see him grow a true smile that just gets bigger until he gets to the top when he goes into his full routine. You can feel his excitement right through the screen. He is ready to give the people what he wants and he is going to love every moment of it Hell he even winks to us. I mean that doesn't add much but I feel the need to point that out for the Jack Rose fans.

Now in the chorus we get to see full Jack Rose, complete with sassiness and confidence. Though we also can see the same smile from the pre-chorus, which makes sense! He is having the time of his life performing and he obviously loves his fans with how he is constantly pointing and smiling at them any chance he gets.

Now the second verse/pre-chorus are pretty much the same as the first except the fact that he seems for focused than cocky when in the room of mirrors (Most likely due to his mother watching him from the reflections) And he seems more excited the closer he gets to the stage.

But now we get to the juicy stuff in the bridge hehehe

Now this part is a little obvious with him pointing to his fans during the "Can I just stay here? Spend the rest of my days here?" He is pleading to whatever deity is listening to just let him stay on that stage with people who actually love him and he loves them back, even if it's just because of his voice/performances he is taking whatever love he can get. That's his heaven, but a certain ✨slaying✨ witch only lets him bask in it for a little while before locking him out it again and again.

K in the final chorus

Small detail I didn't notice the first time but at this part it looks almost like he's reaching for one of the helicopters whilst singing "I've been locked out of heaven" (Yeah this isn't beating my theory that those copters were sent from Night Swan to watch her son during his performance)

Now that Swan tower has lit up behind him and has even taken over the screens in the stage Jack is facing the complete opposite direction, with the most he goes towards it is when he faces the player completely and a few spare glances to the crowd behind him

He knows what's behind him but he doesn't want to think about it. Also at these last few repeats of the chorus he seems to almost be belting it in some spots. Like he's trying to drown himself in the song and stay in the zone forever. But alas, it has to end

That face when his mom waves him off tells us all we need to know. He's used to her actions and distain, but it also stings a lot for him.

Also while it isn't noticeable at first you can actually see him sigh after his hand goes all the way down and he looks at the floor.

In conclusion: Jack needs a hug yesterday and this sets up his reaction to seeing Wanderlust and his fans get turned in majesty. Is he cocky? Yes. But does he love what he does? Well when it comes to performing, yes

thank you all for coming to my Ted Talk, cookies are in the lobby

[shiningnightstars]

I LOVE MY QUEERPLATONIC PARTNER!!!!!!!!! THEYRE THE ONLY PERSON EVER TO ME AND I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

we have both agreed that it would be SO weird to be in a romantic relationship, but still incredibly weird to be just friends. i lvoe them sosososo much i want to hug them and kiss them and give them all the love ever. RAHHHHH they. they make me so happy <2 oguh...........

they are my beloved ever and it makes me so happy to sit down with them and like. lean on their shoulder as i look at their laptop to see what theyre doing. and they just sit there and talk to me and listen to me and,,,, aaaaaaaa i love them. i love them forever and ever and. AUFH. dying rn /pos

they understand me and they care about me and actually think im cool and they.................

augh anyways. i love them. thank you for coming to my ted talk

[biggiedraws]

okay i just went back and rewatched all the scenes from this season involving dazai and/or chuuya, now that i know that chuuya was pretending to be a vampire the whole time, because. i was possessed by the soukoku brainrot. anyway 10/10 recommend, knowing what theyre actually up to adds so much flavour

first off. dazais whole "chuuya, wake up. our fate will not end here" monologue is SO funny now. his dramatic ass deliberately planted himself in front of a camera and put on a show for fyodor. no wonder chuuya cut him off partway through lmfao he is SO sick of him. i would also bet that chuuya shooting him in the shoulder wasnt part of the plan (bc lets face it, he fucking would), and thats why dazai yelled and cursed him out- because he genuinely wasnt expecting it. of course it could all be part of the show, but its VERY funny to imagine that chuuya was like "hey i bet i could shoot this bastard right now and play it off like it was part of the act" and then just did it. i hate them so much

theres also the chuuya drowning monologue. now, i think its safe to say that dazai knew how that was gonna shake down, given that he clearly knows chuuyas powers better than fyodor, and he couldve reasonably predicted that fyodor would catch on in time to make an escape plan. which means this one was also completely for the drama of it. however, if you wanna get a little angsty about it, dazai is basically trusting that fyodor will save chuuya here. hes deliberately trying to kill both of them and if fyodor isnt clever enough to escape, he just killed chuuya while chuuya was IN DISGUISE TO HELP HIM and COMPLETELY AWARE OF WHATS HAPPENING. do you think there was any part of dazai that considered that these could be his last words to chuuya? he does seem to be genuinely reflecting on their history, given the flashbacks that play in the background (although that could just be for the viewer, of course, and not a reflection of his actual thoughts) so...... it might not be ENTIRELY for show. but maybe im just saying that bc i want to believe that dazai was being at least a little bit genuine when he straight up admitted- OUT LOUD- that they do actually understand each other and have a genuine connection even though they dont get along. because holy shit

one last thing. when dazai reveals that chuuya stopped the bullet and goes "we used to do this all the time, remember?" ????? hello?????? like i know chuuya has stopped bullets plenty of times. but stopping them RIGHT at someones skull, especially DAZAIS where the gravity manipulation would vanish as soon as it touches him..... how many times have you needed to do that?? and why????? like its just casually so fucking chaotic, i love references to their past like that because it can be easy to forget the kind of shit they got up to. i should rewatch the arc where they first met.......

anyway this has more than made up for the lack of chuuya content. knowing that chuuya was aware the whole time and pretending to be a vampire...... and that dazai knew that and was just putting on a show...... i will be going insane about this forever. theyre literally soulmates theyre desperate to kill each other theyre so fucking dramatic i want to hit them with my car. thank you for coming to my ted talk

[runwayrunway]

No. 35 - Saudia/Saudi Arabian Airlines

This is the third of three requests from @twtd11. A very serendipitously timed one, because I had just begun researching for this post when it came in.

I would just like to take a moment to thank you for the requests. Everyone, but specifically twtd11 for sending in multiple. I love writing these, and there are so many potentially juicy topics out there. There are between 5,000 and 5,500 airlines currently with ICAO codes, some of which have had multiple liveries throughout history or even multiple in active use, before even mentioning the defunct ones. There is a non-negligible degree of decision paralysis that comes with choosing subjects, and requests help steer me towards topics and trains of thought I'm interested in discussing. Not to mention, of course, that I get to cover things that people are actively interested in seeing. I appreciate them a lot.

Okay. Aside...aside. Let's talk about Saudia, or Saudi Arabian Airlines, whichever one it is at any given time, the flag carrier of Saudi Arabia.

Let me propose a hypothetical to you. Say you were one of the richest countries on the entire planet, strategically located somewhere that both has most major cities in the world within range for a nonstop flight and enough oil that it basically prints money. You're trying to participate in geopolitics and have the world's third largest immigrant population. You are the site of the largest pilgrimage in the world, now largely conducted by air. You have a flag carrier, like most countries, and over half your fleet is large twin-aisle jets ready to be plopped down at airports all over the world.

You'd want to make them.....look really interesting and striking and memorable, right? Really represent your country's culture and heritage and remind the people exhaustedly looking out of the window of a plane that's been baking on the tarmac for an hour of how big and important your airline is?

I just think I would have made different choices here.

Saudia is obviously the flag carrier of Saudi Arabia. I think the government tried to privatise it at some point but I don't think they've actually finished that process. It was founded in 1945 as Saudi Arabian Airlines, and was run by TWA despite being wholly government-owned.

Saudia is really weird.

It was named Saudi Arabian Airlines until 1972, when it became Saudia. In 1996 it was renamed back to Saudia Arabian Airlines, and it was then renamed back again to Saudia in 2012. This is definitely confusing and/or silly. It also makes it comparably harder to date historical mentions of it just by name the way it does hearing USAir vs US Airways. I even see sources, including relatively journalistic ones, incorrectly use the anachronistic name anyway. Saudia is the better name, in my opinion. If you think 'Saudia' is shorter than 'Saudi Arabian Airlines', compare 'السعودية' to 'الخطوط الجوية العربية السعودية'.  'al-Ḫuṭūṭ al-Jawwiyyah al-ʿArabiyyah as-Suʿūdiyyah'. The way that proper nouns work in Arabic make an already long name completely unwieldy, while Saudia is completely regular and manageable. It's a bit pointless to discuss, though. The two have become interchangeable at this point. The switches have become more and more frequent over time, too. I'm taking bets for what happens in 2026 - are they going to become Saudi Arabian Airlines again, or will they daringly pick a third option and become Saudia Arabian Airlines? (They will not do this, and they're Saudia to me forever anyway.)

This is sort of a trend with Saudia. They have such a non-brand that they keep doing 'brand overhauls' which are negligibly different from each other. This applies to their liveries too. A new Saudia livery is the equivalent of a Fall/Winter collection from the Gap. It's...the Gap. New Saudia livery? Well...it's an airplane livery with Saudia branding. That's just not anything.

 image: ted quackenbush

image: ruthas

Hey, everyone! We added a livery revision! We had a cheatline and now it's a hockey stick!

We added more stripes! Aren't we innovative?

I actually do love the combination of these specific blues and greens, and would love to see it used on a competent livery, but attached to nothing it's just so sad. The same goes for the typeface used. Gorgeous, but meaningless. It was actually decent for the time, but...look, I'm not here to talk about it, and given what's coming it's hard to be too nice to it even though the colorscheme is genuinely gorgeous.

I also think this illustrates fantastically my point about Saudia vs Saudi Arabian Airlines. In the pictures above, each side has one of the names written in English and the other in Arabic, and...I think you can see for yourself.

This livery is so incredibly boring that it somehow looks worse on the TriStar than the 737, which is so unusual! The more interesting shape of the TriStar just lets on how painfully boring this is.

But that was then. Where are we now?

Ah...not much better. It's an upside-down United situation, half white and half off-white, which can look classy in some cases but in this example just looks dated. You have to do something to distinguish a livery like this. A nice color scheme (which this gold-and-dark-blue certainly is) and a gorgeous typeface can't save it.

This picture gives a fantastic view of how gorgeous the cream, gold, green, and dark blue used are. If only they were used in a way that accomplishes something! This is a travesty of great details which are just put down on a piece of paper and left to sit! Good details mean nothing if they're all you have. It just makes this livery all the more tragic.

('God Bless You' is not the name of the plane, just something written on all Saudia planes. Bless you too, HZ-HM1A.)

Why would you ever. Why would you ever color only the top of the fin on an MD-11, and then leave the engine flesh-color. Did not a single person realize that the ratio of blue to cream this creates looks terrible?

This is so frustrating. Every feature here is visually pleasing, and the plane itself sort of is unless you look close, but it's so nothing, so cowardly, that I become angry. This is bereft of design and creativity, despite having all the features it needs to succeed if they were applied decently. (Seriously, that typeface is beautiful.)

The Arab States of the Persian Gulf are some of the wealthiest countries in the world. Their airlines tend to be luxurious, with brand new fleets of well-equipped airliners replete with some of the world's best first-and-business-class cabins for the discerning travelling millionaire. I've never flown with one of them, because I am not a millionaire (or particularly discerning when it comes to cabin service, in all honesty), but it absolutely does show in their liveries. Each of them carries itself with a unique sort of careless gravitas, like a bed with a carved walnut headboard and brocade sheets, neatly made in the morning by an underpaid and mistreated migrant housekeeper.

Compare Saudia. The elegant frame of the Dreamliner given the livery of a mid-90s US carrier which would go out of business before the mid-aughts. This is non-design.

I mention, when I outline my grading system, that a D grade is not only for liveries which are ugly or badly designed. That's how I've ended up using it so far, most of the time. After all, I mostly discuss liveries that are interesting, since there's more to talk about and more to motivate me to write a post. And I do think Saudia is somewhat interesting case of a livery which is pretty, which has nice features, which is...inoffensive. Yet it is so cowardly that I truly do not believe it is satisfactory. It's almost a little unsettling, how there's nothing about this livery I specifically dislike yet the complete package is so reprehensible to me.

Final Grade: D+

Well, okay, I'm done with this livery. Tomorrow's bonus post will be about a much more interesting Saudi airline, and we'll have a post later today about a much more interesting aspect of Saudia's design, but for the moment thankfully we're done with this...

...this is a wet lease. They've been wet leasing planes to meet hajj demand, and those planes are primarily white. But for a moment I thought this was actually a new livery and almost began crying.

Okay. We're okay. This is their most recent non-lease delivery. We're okay. Don't scare me like that, Saudia! Geez!

[itsame-ariana]

Lil adventure time post:

Don’t come at me yet read first. Am I the only one who gets kinda sad and bummed out every time we see shermy and beth in an ep? (which I know was literally twice but just bear with me)

Not anything wrong with the characters I actually really like them and I think they have a cute dynamic and are fun. I love when people make comics of them etc

Just- knowing that it’s the future of Ooh and seeing how different everything was- like how their world is kind of a reminder that all of the characters we love except bmo are dead- (including possibly pb and marceline even though they were supposed to be immortal together forever 😭)

And also for example seeing in f&c how divided Ooh seems :C

And I know the whole point is that things end and change but “everything stays- ever so slightly” and it’s okay.

Which is actually a really nice message and sweet- but like even if the message is good and the characters are fun and reminiscent of the ones we love;

It just a still makes me a bit sad, you know?

I guess now im in my older teen 16/17 yr old philosophical existencial adventure time arc and no longer my 13 year old silly goofy arc. Me and Finn twinning frrrrr

Anyway thanks for coming to my Ted talk I continued some thoughts in the tags

[wyllzel]

bzz it's bee hello i'm literally talking to fern about this while we speak but isn't it insane how much fantasy is reliant upon like. defunct race science?????????? and how much work one has to do as a writer or creator or like. passive consumer of color to try and untie what is just. utter pseudoscience that has been at the mast of white supremacy for CENTURIES from what is admittedly a fun and cool premise that has existed for... forever (namely worldbuilding around folklore and fairy tales and the such)

it's extra annoying being a displaced and colonized person with less physical interaction with the sort of . motherland of your culture. imma do it it's just gonna make my head hurt i deserve to have fun with swords too

thank u for coming to my ted talk

@sohcean HI BEE!! 💞🐝 (and fern, hello!!!)

yeah... from what i understand, modern high fantasy (and all of its tropes) largely originates in jrr tolkien's LOTR system - wherein you can find a lot of biases if you're looking for them. as a young asian american woman, the most obvious to me is the notion that the "good" humans live in the west, and the "evil" humans lives in the east (literally called 'easterlings' and described as having 'slant-eyes').

these ideas seep through the modern high fantasy tradition, and that's how you end up with a conflict between characters who look like this:

where one has the potential for good and change, and the other is irredeemably, cartoonishly evil...

one of my least favorite lines in the game is when astarion calls kozakuran (cazador's home language, and analogous to japanese) a "chicken-scratch language." just feels deeply unnecessary and hits a little too close to home for comfort.

but yeah 😞 like you said, these ideas have been instilled in western cultural values for like forever, lol, so it's really not much of a surprise. i can only speak to orientalism since that's what i understand the best, but on the topic of race science and all that, gary gygax certainly had ideas 🤮 it still baffles me that dnd was going off race-based morality (ie. all drow used to be chaotic evil, all githyanki were lawful evil, etc.) and race-based classes for so long 😬 i was looking through my dad's ancient copy of DND 1e and it was so baffling i could barely skim it, lol

plus - "i deserve to have fun with swords too" is so true!! ;; it saddens me that even an immersive, 'forget your irl troubles' game like bg3 still reflects... a lot of those irl problems, haha, but game devs and creatives are human, too, and sometimes we're not always conscious of the biases we carry...

anyway :') thanks for dropping by + sharing, i always love to hear your thoughts! hope you've been doing well!

[ari194]

First of all, just major spoiler warnings for the wolf 359 finale. Second of all this is gonna be a long post of just all the thoughts while I listen to the finale.

God I love the beginning with Cutter and Pryce like just that whole story time back and forth is so so good

Adding Hera and Eiffel's first meeting also hurts so good I can't. Just the little smile you can hear in Eiffel's chuckle and voice after Hera's "good boy" and the immediate establishment of them being partners in crime from the get go, just not even five minutes of knowing each other and they were already breaking rules together, words cannot describe how much I adore them

"These people have taken our lives away from us" line is so good, Renee Minkowski is t h e leader and I love her with my whole heart. She could rally me to do anything

"your dad loves you, your dad loves you so much" those are his last words to his daughter while he remembers her. fuck fuck f u c k. Christ this shit hurts. I love this podcast so much

Eiffel and Minkowski getting to laugh together one last time before everything goes down is so so good

"Goddammit Renee don't do this" and my heart b r e a k s

The fucking score in this episode is so so excellent the dramatic piano and just the everything about the pacing of the music is executed masterfully Alan Rhodey is a god

Dougie no, stop no self deprecating in this household. Also holy fuck just got hit with the "I can't do this" from Eiffel holy im being devastated with every second that goes by, we love parallels in this household

"you're just going to have to trust me"

"with my life darling, with my life" I love them so much eiffera has my entire heart forever 😭

Eiffera again hitting me with the "I can do this" "Of course you can darling" just her being able to confidently state her abilites and Eiffel not questioning her for a second, complete faith in Hera and always supporting her without hesitation.

God I love Kepler God I love him so much his reveal is everything his last lines are everything his last act is everything I can't I can't I can't.

"The beautiful thing is, I don't need you to be" is just such a fucking good line I will never ever ever get over it.

Also, harpoon?!

It's the fact that all I had to hear was the sound of the mind sweep and I started to completely come apart. I'll always love and hate that they didn't let Doug say his last words to Hera.

Wolf 359 will always always always be my absolute favorite piece of media to exist ever. Nothing will ever top it and I will never be able to love something as deep as I love Wolf 359. Just the fact that they saved the world they saved all of humanity and they would have all died with no one ever knowing a thing if it wasn't for Jacobi, Wolf 359 could have so easily ended as a tragedy and still been a good and wonderful piece of media but it's the fact that they got their somewhat bitter mostly sweet happy ending that sets it apart. It's the question of what makes the self, what makes a person themselves, it's that even while bawling your eyes out there will still be lines that make you laugh through it, it's every heartbreak throughout the show and the finale finally having the payoff of getting to hear them be safe and go home. They're battered, wounded, and bruised but they're alive and they are all going to start again. It's the last scene being our original 3 voice actors and the fact that when Doug goes "spending time with you two was the best damn thing to ever happen to him" there was never any doubt that he was talking about Minkowski and Hera.

I will never be over Wolf 359, and I will always be grateful I stumbled upon it and had the chance to fall in love with it. Anyway thanks for coming to my Ted talk I'm gonna go sob some more for a few hours.

[groenendaelfic]

Regarding the Fate of As Long as We Have Each Other

Dear Anons,

First let me say that I absolutely love your wonderful messages and compliments. They give me life and I treasure them and few things cheer me up more than a nice word or two about my fics and knowing I'm not just typing into the void.

I'll keep trying my best to answer asks if they include questions or bring up interesting points others might be interested in as well (in fact there are quite a few I have been putting off answering because I want to do it properly and that'll probably take an hour or two each, but I haven't forgotten about them!) and you can always message me with other stuff so I don't have to answer publicly (although admittedly it sometimes takes a while for me to reply because irl and anxiety), and I don't want to sound ungrateful, but please,

PLEASE stop sending me melodramatic asks regarding the fate of As Long as We Have Each Other. I get that you are impatient, but they aren't helpful and I got eight of them over the past ten days.

Don't get me wrong, a 'btw I still love that fic, will there be an update anytime soon?' is totally okay and appreciated, those are not the kind of asks I'm talking about.

Now I'm not sure if it's one anon or multiple ones, but my answer hasn't changed so let me copy/paste it from a previous post:

I have decided to finish A Pack of Two first,

Not because I love it more, but because it'll be a MUCH 'shorter' fic than ALaWHEO and I simply cannot keep switching between feral!Wille pov and official boyfriend!Simon pov, especially because both have a very narrow pov and are only aware of like a third of what's going on, and it's driving me bananas.

So yes, As Long as We Have Each Other is going on a short break, but I will definitely get back to it once APoT is done because I'm as enthusiastic about the story as I was on day one, maybe even more so.

ALaWHEO is my favorite fic across all of my fandoms and my baby, but I simply cannot write both it and APoT at the same time. I thought I could or else I wouldn't have started APoT, but I can't and so I had to make a choice.

If it helps, both my notes doc and my outline for ALaWHEO have grown significantly over the past seven weeks and it will definitely end up being over 400k, but only AFTER APoT is done.

Also in all my 23 years of being in fandom (in fact my fandom anniversary will be in 4 days! wtf is time even?) I have only ever given up on posting one fic that made it over 20k and that was because the fandom was an absolutely toxic dumpster fire and not because I lost interest, and even that fic I one day plan to go back to and post in its entirety once the fandom has shrunken considerably and all the 'I might not speak the language or have ever been to the country, but I've read a fan translation with footnotes and a few background posts and so now I totally know the time period and topic you've written your thesis on better than you' people have lost interest. So I promise ALaWHEO will get finished. I'm a completionist. I have all Civ6 steam achievements and believe me that was not fun. The only reason ALaWHEO will not be finished is if I am suddenly for whatever reason unable to write anymore (aka dead or gravely ill).

Anyway. Sorry for the rant. I don't want to call anyone out or seem unappreciative, but my anxiety can only handle so many versions of 'have you completely abandoned ALaWHEO? do you hate it? do you hate me personally for once stating that I didn't like abo fic? I don't know how my poor heart will be able to cope if you give up on ALaWHEO forever and ever but my hope lives on' (no that was not as much of an exaggeration as you might think)

So please stop or I'll disable anon asks, which I'd hate to do because I love hearing everyone's thoughts and comments and also it'd be unfair to everyone else who has been so absolutely lovely, motivating, encouraging and most of all inspiring.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk. (are those still a thing?)

[late-tothe-party-07]

Nerding out about Rise Movie

(Yes I am aware Im late. That's my whole brand. Shut.)

Anyway. This is specifically about the last bits cause of course it is.

*ahem *

Cant find a GIF but yknow that bit, when Leo tells Casey to basically pull the plug, to let him die, and the kid grabs the key to do so. But he doesnt do it right away and you can see the struggle so clearly its amazing.

Theres Casey knowing he will be the cause of losing Leo again, in such a short time. He doesnt want to. This is his father figure/uncle. This is one of the only comforts he knew and he has to be the one to kill it. And then there's resolve that its the right thing to do.

Its almost like Casey was trying to impersonate Future Leo, a person he looked up to, who made hard choices for the good of everyone.

But then the bravery is gone, crumbling at his feet and Casey doesnt want to make the hard choice. This is still a kid. This is still someone who a few hours earlier had watched his world die. Every last bit of it.

He doesn't even look when he finally does it. And he doesn't stay put and pull, he runs away.

-

The moment the portal shuts Leo stops fighting.

The moment his brothers are safe he just stops.

There is no brave front, no stoic decree that he will make the Kraang's life hell or take revenge somehow more than he has. He's done.

However almost everyone I see writing this bit in fanfics always makes it sound like he didn't care about dying and that isn't true. He wants to live. He's crying, wanting his family to hold him and be in the good times again so he holds onto the picture. But he's genuinely too tired to do much and he knows there's nothing he can do anyway. Doesn't mean he doesn't still want there to be.

Who says sacrifices arent scared of dying?

-

The fact the boys gave it everything they got and all the Kraang had to do was flick a finger. That is terrifying and such an awesome way to display the villain's power. They have no hope of defeating it, and its not hard to see how the Kraang took over the world in a different timeline. To have the turtles do all that and it to be brushed away as a little less than an inconvenience. Horrifying. Good job.

-

Call it talking about something obvious, but I love the scenes we see that we thought was the end, with Leo gone forever. Cause at that point the world was saved, people were probably celebrating if they could see it happening, but to our heroes there was no victory. To them the end is as devastating as if they had lost. The background behind Casey as he clutches Leo's sword is the same red he grew up with, where death and loss and fear was as common as air.

Donnie is crying, and he shakes his head as he realizes cause no, this cant be reality. This wasn't in his plans. He denies the tears because that means its hurting. And if it's hurting that means that it happened.

Raph is on the ground cause he is the big brother, meant to protect them, and he failed. The grief is piled on by guilt and anger and sorrow and the need to do something but he can't and its too heavy. Even he can't carry all of it.

-

Fun little tidbit to finish but I love how when Mikey opens a portal to get Leo back, Raph and Donnie also take some of the backlash to that power. Its also a little funny that its the two turtles who were dead when he opened the time gateway, especially since Ninpo is stronger when they are united as a family and he opened that portal alone.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk

[malka-lisitsa]

Casual reminder of the way Katherine snapped at Stefan when he said "Then Damon and I died for NOTHING." and her retort was a very aggressive "NO YOU DIED FOR LOVE."

Because in Katherine's book, love is the only valid reason to die. Either you die for it or you die bc you gave up on it.

Sure she's still gonna absolutely try not to die ever forever but if she has to? Its going to be for love, and she PROVED that point with her death.

Idk how bitches be out here actually believing Katherine is heartless when it's literally the core of her character that she believes in, chases, and lives for love.

"If we cease to believe in love, why would we want to live?"

Love is the only redeeming quality in the world that makes it worth it for Katherine and she SAID THAT while still human. She continued that same philosophy the entire time she was a vampire too. Every motivation and action she does is driven by her desire to survive for love.

"I never compelled your love, it was real, and so was mine." "It's ok to love them both. I did." "You and I both know that's not true. I loved Damon. And you." "That sounds like the beginning of a love story, not the end of one."

She literally talks about it all the god damned time she saves her boys asses REPEATEDLY out of love and yet some ppl just still can not grasp that Katherine isn't EVIL shes CAREFUL.

LITERALLY all she wants in life is to be with Stefan. She loves him more than anyone has or ever will and god damn if she hasn't proved her loyalty by picking him over and over for 147 years. She literally picked him over her own daughter, Nadia wanted to run away when Katherine took Elena's body and Katherine was like "mkay but what if actually Stefan"

She has gone through three fucking YEARS of EVERYONE throwing EVERYTHING in her fucking face, while singing the praises of people far worse than her. Literally all she wanted was the man she loved and to be happy with him forever and yet all she's ever met with is back lash for shit that comparably is NOTHING on the scale of half the other characters. Instead she gets to feel this kind of heart break.

It is literally a fucking crime.

Anyway thank you for coming to my Ted talk, I expect all Stefans, and all of katherine's other lovers to come give Katherine a compliment bc shes worth it, and ppl are mean to her.