#becomes something that they try to emulate and it's just very interesting

[naramdil]

Of course your passive aggressive ass would support Selena

Justin really made so many careers Selena and Hailey need to thank him, because of all the Disney kids Demi deserved the hype Selena’s talentless ass gets

What a way to down another woman Hafsa do better, nasty for no reason when Hailey was a model before and a ballerina before that she has worked for what she has got and obviously is a wife so I don’t know how that is a drag

Bella getting dragged as well by that puffy faced loser, lord her instagram is a mess

omg.. first of all it's truly not that serious to me, I genuinely am not following any of this closely. but how are you calling selena a puffy faced loser and then telling Me to do better when it comes to talking about other women akjhdakjshd that's so mean!! I haven't even said anything mean like that about hailey! I don't have anything against her, if I were her I would just live my life in bliss and not care abt fame whatsoever. I also like the brown manicure w the vanilla chrome powder, that is cute. I've also considered trying a product from her skincare line, but like I don't rly have a vested interest in any of this drama. I'm sure that all parties involved are doing just fine given their tax brackets. and I'm sure their publicists are thrilled

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Dating After A Toxic Relationship

A/N: Not requested, just an idea I had 😊 Remember, requests are open! Be sure to read my rules and please respect that I'm only interested in writing for these characters. Thank you! Feedback is always appreciated 💜

Butcher is very vocal. He knows you jump and scare easily, so he always makes a point to say where or if he's going to touch you, if he's upset and why (so that you don't worry you're the reason), when he'll be back, etc. This takes a lot of trial and error between the two of you. Butcher is an angry, violent person. You knew this going into the relationship. There's always a worry it could turn on you, and that's what he fears most: that you'd ever be afraid of him. He reassures you constantly he would never, ever hurt you. He knows all about what your ex did. You wanted to be up front and honest, knowing some of your behaviors might seem strange or out of place. The last thing he ever wants to do is emulate your ex and though it takes a lot of rewiring and assessment of his actions, he's trying to be better for you so that he doesn't lose you.

Hughie hates what your ex has done. Bit by bit, you give him the overview of your relationship, what they were like, and how they treated you. Sometimes you jump or flinch and he's reminded all over again that, despite what he does, there will always be this underlying fear and distrust. It took a long time to date him let alone tell him everything. He's patient and gentle and makes sure you're okay with every step you take further into the relationship. He takes every relationship show regardless of past history. When you see your ex again you have to pull Hughie away, not wanting him to start anything. He can't help it. He looks at them and he sees red. He's filled with disgust and hatred. Hughies always been on the timid side, but the thought of someone hurting you like that boils his blood.

Annie never wants you to feel like you have to hide that kind of thing from her. She knows all about power hungry people who take advantage of others. Still, she can't believe it. You're kind and funny and sweet and you always have everyone's best interest at heart. You know what it's like to get hurt, you wouldn't dare hurt someone else. She knows you don't want any trouble with them, you just want to move on, but she can't help but light up when she sees them. Secretly she goes to them and makes it known if they so much as look at you, even think about you, they're done. She's always asking if what you're doing is okay and wants to be as open as possible about boundaries. You're grateful she likes innocent touching, mostly hand holding, and when you're having a hard time you know she'll grab your hand and squeeze it, reminding you she's always here for you.

M.M knows all about your ex. He was the one to help you get out of that relationship in the first place. Since then you've become really close, so close he's now your boyfriend. After your ex shows up at your work one day, Marvin decides to take things into his own hands. The Boys make a special appearance at their apartment where they make it known they are never to go near you ever again. You have a lot of fears about trusting someone again, especially in a relationship, but M.M. is patient. He never wants you to feel like you have to do something you don't want to or aren't ready for. He's more than okay with taking things slow. He actually prefers it that way. He's extremely protective over you and, unfortunately, are his biggest weakness. If Homelander ever found out about you, M.M. would be done for.

Frenchie met your ex a few times before you broke things off. The way they spoke to you, wanted to control you, all the sings were there. He feels awful that he didn't see it sooner, but you could never blame him. You're just glad you got away from them. Frenchie is attentive and devoted and males sure you're comfortable with every step in your relationship. He offers, jokingly though not jokingly, to have your ex killed when they start sending calls and texts and emails. You assure him it's okay, you'll handle it. He knows you're more than capable, but he's always got a back up plan ready just in case they want to try anything more. He's extremely patient when you decide to tell him. He knows there's more to the story than what you're sharing, but he doesn't push it. He's grateful you shared anything at all. It's a big step and means a lot that you'd trust him.

Kimiko is learning to trust just like you are. You've both been through a lot, but you find a great solace in one another. Kimiko isn't sure who this random person is that shows up looking for you, only that the rest of The Boys are suddenly cagey, angry, and very protective. They're grateful you're not there. When she asks about them, you finally tell her. You dated a while ago and it wasn't a safe relationship. You thought you could get away from them, but they seek you out. They like to know they're in control. She feels awful. You're genuine and smart and sweet. Those terrible things that happened to you only made you softer and, unfortunately, more prone to anxiety and distrust. She leaves it up to you to take the next steps in your relationship. You appreciate more than you could ever put into words. You love her, but you need to take things slow.

Bonus! Homelander killed them a long time ago. The moment you showed up in his life, he knew there was someone who'd hurt you. It takes a long time to tell anyone, let alone him. One day the phone calls and texts and emails just stop. They stop showing up at Vought looking for you. You think you've finally scared them off or perhaps they got bored, but it was actually your new boyfriend. Normally he'd like to boast all about how he tortured them, h9w easy it was to kill them, how stupid they looked when he pulled out all their teeth, but he knows you wouldn't like that, so he keeps it to himself. He knows no one will miss them. You certainly don't. You're sleeping better now and getting more comfortable in your relationship without the constant threat of them showing up or following you. Homelander rests easy knowing they can never hurt you again. He lacks a lot of self-awareness in this department.

[viennacherries]

Prompt suggestion <3 Rolan/Tav NSFW. Tav really likes it when Rolan speaks to her in infernal. She doesn’t understand it, but it doesn’t change the fact that it turns her on. He starts to notice her subtle reactions to when he curses or something in infernal. Which leads to bedroom shenanigans lol. My username is the same on A03 ^^

this has taken me a minute, mostly because i had to spend some time literally making up the infernal language for the purpose of this fic LMAO. if you're interested in my process it's in the end notes on ao3.

i changed the prompt a little though; rolan doesnt notice because he's very silly and keeps failing the perception check. lia notices immediently.

NSFW read on ao3 here

~~~

The first time Tav hears Rolan speak infernal, she doesn't even register it as a word. It slips past his tongue and it's all consonants and noises that she's not sure she could emulate properly with her non-tiefling tongue.

"Zurgan." He mutters it under his breath as he drops a pile of books.

Her quill stops midair where she's busy writing up an inventory of magical items they've found. With everyone else busy or gone from the city, she offered to help Rolan with organising the tower. It's been a nightmare, frankly. The previous tower master (she wont do him the privilege of speaking his name, the bastard) had apparently spent the last who-knows-how-many years stuffing things into random shelves and boxes.

She frowns as she tries to repeat the word, "Zu- Zurgan? What's that mean?"

Rolan jumps, clearly having forgotten she's in the room, "not zurgan, zurgan. It means- well, I don't know if it translates literally to common. It's... an expletive, I suppose ."

She laughs, "so it means 'fuck'?"

He huffs, and rolls his eyes, "I suppose that's a close enough approximation, yes."

"I don't think I've ever heard you swear before."

"Well," his brow is furrowed as he thinks, "I suppose I try not to, really. It's not becoming."

Tav snorts at that, "Gods, how old are you, 150? Besides, how is swearing in tiefling any different?"

"The language is called infernal, you uncultured swine. I'm a tiefling, I speak infernal."

"You speak something alright. Usually a crock of shi-"

"What did I say about it not being becoming, hm?"

She rolls her eyes at him, "so sorry, Master Rolan, please accept my humblest of apologies for disgracing your presence in such a regard."

He rolls his eyes at her, but she hears him snort and sees the quirk of his lip. "I suppose as far as apologies go, that one will suffice."

~~~

Several weeks later, Cal shouts through the door to the study where they're cataloguing evocation books, "Rolan! Lia and I are heading to the market, do you want us to pick up more of the wine you like?"

He laughs, which is rare enough in itself, and leans out the door to reply.

"Fazit drakon'ziz orum?!"

She hears Cal's responding cackle from down the hallway. "alright, alright, little drakon'ziz. I'll get 2 bottles, 'cos I love you."

When Rolan comes back in, chuckling to himself, Tav doesn't say anything. She wants to ask what it means, but she's... distracted.

Something about the way the words sound when he says them is... enticing. She's not sure if she could repeat them without butchering them, but even if she could she's sure they wouldn't sound as delicious as when they come from him. It's something about the rich tone to his voice, which she's always liked, coupled with the harsher edge it takes on when he speaks the foreign language.

Gods, she's been spending far too much time with him,

She clears her throat, "drakon'ziz?"

Rolan turns to her, still smiling, " drakon'ziz , but close. It means dragon."

His lopsided smile, aimed at her, coupled with the gruffness of the unknown word, is a little bit intoxicating.

"What about the rest of what you said? Fa- Fazit something?"

"'Fazit drakon'ziz orum?' It means 'does a dragon want gold?' It's a tiefling saying, basically means 'yes, obviously.' It just sounds better in infernal."

Tav agrees. It sounds rather lovely in infernal, in fact.

When Tav doesn't reply, he raises an eyebrow, "I could try and teach you some? Infernal, that is. If you'd be interested. Tell me something you want to be able to say, I'll try and teach you how to say it."

She thinks for a moment.

"What if I want to call someone a shit-head?"

He barks out a laugh as he rolls his eyes, "of course you'd just want to know how to insult people. I think the closest translation would be uzterku'zereb.  That means 'shit-for-brains'."

Despite the small jolt her stomach gives as he utters the phrase, she starts cackling. "That's even better!"

~~~

It's been about a month and a half since they started cataloguing everything in the tower, and it's basically become a nightly occurrence that Tav stays for dinner with them. Rolan has finally sat down at the dining table, after bringing all the dishes and cutlery through, and right as he hits the chair there's a sheepish voice from beside him.

"... Rolan~" It's Lia, in a singsong voice, and he huffs.

"What do you want?" It's a question, but it sounds more like an admonishment.

"How could you?! Assuming I want something from you. My beloved big brother. I look up to you so much. Also I left my drink in the sitting room."

You and Callum both laugh, and he makes a very dramatic show of pushing his chair back out with a huge sigh.

"You're such a..." He flails for a moment, as if the word in common has escaped him, "an uztanatez. Next time, you're getting it yourself."

She laughs, "My dear brother, I would fall on my sword for you."

"Mhm." He grumbles, " gladiz zurzum kuluz ..."

Cal nearly falls out of his chair laughing as Rolan trudges from the room, and Lia has a grin on her face from successfully riling him up and getting what she wanted.

Tav is blushing.

"What did he say?" She feels hesitant to bring attention to herself when she knows she's bright red, but she's also too nosy for her own good.

Lia looks at her and opens her mouth to answer, but pauses as she takes in Tav's face. Cal, blissfully, doesn't notice.

"Well the first bit was him calling her a suck up," he laughs through his explanation, "and the second bit was him telling her exactly where she could shove her sword."

She laughs, and thanks him for telling her. Lia is still looking at her. Her face warms more.

"What?"

"Hm." Lia smiles in a way that looks slightly threatening; the way Tav imagines a shark would smile at a seal before taking a huge chunk out of it. "Nothing, really. Only, you weren't that flushed before Rolan spoke in infernal. Got a thing for the devil's tongue, have you Tav?"

Cal furrows his eyebrows in confusion, before his eyes widen and his mouth drops in an 'o' of understanding.

She's about to deny it but she can feel that she's even redder now, so instead she buries her face in her hands. "Don't you dare! Don't you dare say anything!"

"Say anything about what?" Of course Rolan would walk back in now. He places Lia's cup in front of her and turns to Tav expectantly, but Lia speaks before she can.

"Tav is just embarrassed because she didn't understand what you said, she felt left out."

His face breaks into a look of confusion, "You shouldn't be embarrassed by that, Tav, you don't speak the language. Uztanatez-" Tav sucks in a breath, and Lia snorts, "means 'bootlicker'. Gladiz zurzum kuluz means... well... 'shove your sword up your rear'."

Cal and Lia are both sporting shit eating grins. Tav thinks now is a good time to pick a God and pray.

~~~

" Pulch'zer."

He says it as she walks through the door to the study one morning.

"Sorry, repeat that?"

His eyes widen, and his face flushes a deep crimson colour. She's never seen him blush before, or at least she's never noticed because of his skin's natural shade.

"Sorry I was just..." He averts his gaze, looking back at the paperwork he's working on, "I was just thinking out loud..."

She chuckles lightly. "Ah, that text will be kicking your ass then. Pulch'zer. What does it mean?"

He looks up at her again. His eyes lock with hers.

"You're close, it's not pulch'zer, it's pulch'zer . You have to put more emphasis on the 'Z' sound."

Gods, she needs to stop asking. He always ends up correcting her, and she always ends up going bright pink. He pronounces the words more precisely when he's teaching her how to say them, it drives her insane.

"Pulch- Pulch? Pulch'zer."

He chuckles, stands and walks over to her. "You're close, but now you're putting too much emphasis on it." He's only an arms length away from her now. " Pulch'zer ."

She gulps. He needs to stop repeating it.

"P- Pulch'zer." She can't tear her eyes away from him, she stares right into his gaze as she repeats it. He sucks a small breath in, so small it's barely noticeable.

"Yes. Very good."

There's a pause.

"So. What does it mean?"

He's flushing again. "It... Well. It..."

She raises an eyebrow, "that bad huh?"

"... it means 'beautiful'."

Tav's face twists in confusion. "What about your book is beaut-"

Rolan surges forward and plants his lips on hers. She gasps into it, the rest of her words swallowed by her inhale and his tongue. She sinks into it. His hands fall onto her waist, and he uses them to drag her closer, pulling the whole length of his body against hers. When he pulls away it feels far too soon, but in his defence he's breathless. He only leans his chest away, his hips still against hers.

"I wasn't talking about the book."

The look in his eyes is vulnerable in a way she's never seen him before. As though he desperately wants her to understand, and yet is terrified that she will. Like he's scared to fracture whatever comfortable thing they've fallen into together.

"Well..." She takes a deep breath, rests a hand on his chest. "Then I'd like you to know that I think you're very pulch'zer."

He sucks in through his teeth and lets out a single disbelieving laugh. "That sounds ridiculously good when you say it, you know."

She snorts, dismissive, "please, it's far better when you say it. I love when you speak infernal."

He stares at her.

She feels her eyes bug out of her head as what she said hits her. "I mean! Not that- I don't mean that like-"

"You love it? What does that mean?"

She can feel the heat in her face. Suddenly everywhere he's touching her is too much, she needs to fall through the floor to a new realm and start her life over with a fake name.

"I don't- I didn't mean-"

As she fumbles over her words, Rolan's face starts to lift into an understanding smirk. "Oh. I see. You love it."

He leans forward towards her, and his lips brush her ear.

"Tibiz plazet link'zon mezoq ?"

She shudders, "Rolan, I have no idea what you're saying."

He chuckles lowly against the shell of her ear. " Zedzit'n, nul'umne? Zede illizquit diko ."

Gods, it's torturous. He's dropped his voice an octave, giving the already heavy words an even more gravelled tone. Her breath is coming out in pants and she whines. The way it's affecting her is ridiculous.

He doesn't stop, " morentez me'zam? Notzo'illi ."

"Rolan, please."

He grins against her, and she feels his length pressing against her body through his robes. " Quid plaket, dilekt'miz ?"

" Rolan , common tongue, please . I want to know what you're saying."

"I said 'please what?'"

Tav huffs in irritation, "I don't know."

He brings his lips up to brush hers, smiling against her as she tries to pull him closer.

"Do you want me to kiss you again?"

She swallows hard around the lump in her throat and nods.

"Mhm. Ask me nicely."

The noise she lets out is embarrassing, a high pitched whine that she couldn't stop if she tried, but she feels his breath against her lips as he exhales in excitement.

"Kiss me, Rolan. Please."

His smile is wide against her, "as you wish, pulch'zer."

When he kisses her, his lips are gentle against hers. Soft and pliant, eager but restrained. When he parts them slowly, she responds in kind and finds his tongue with hers, and he rewards her with a deep, sensual moan from low in his throat. His lips are warm and soft, his mouth tastes of spearmint, his breath flows through her. She feels her small-clothes growing damp.

As he deepens the kiss his movements grow more insistent, more intense, and he squeezes her hips as he grinds her into him. She moans in response and the noise flips a switch in him. All of a sudden his lips are frantic, the kiss turning messy and needy, and his hands are running up and down her body as thought they don't know where to settle.

He pulls back enough to speak, his breath dancing along her lips, his voice barely above a whisper. " Nezkiz quid'mih fakiaz. Volui'illi tamd'umne ."

Tav moans, long and slow as the words rush over her skin, "Gods, Rolan. I wish I knew what you were saying. Fuck ."

He chuckles quietly, "perhaps I'll teach you Comprehend Languages. Then again... Forzit adv'illi."

She groans. "Rolan, please ."

He grins, grinding his length against her, "please, what?"

The huff she lets out is impatient, "you know what."

His mouth traces the shell of her ear again and she shivers. "Perhaps. But tell me anyway."

She groans, "please fuck me, Rolan."

He needs no further invitation. Rolan undresses them both rapidly, swift and efficient just as he treats his work, and they're both bare before each-other in a few moments.

When he looks over her, sweeping his eyes across her form, he lets out a low noise of appreciation. "Hells, Tav, you're beautiful."

She feels nervous, all of a sudden, bare before him, but she smiles despite it. "So are you."

He's back on her, trailing his lips along her throat and collarbone, leaving teasing bites and grazes with his canines. She's a whimpering, writhing mess beneath him but she doesn't care. She can feel his length pressed against her stomach, can feel the grooves of the door on her back, and she's absolutely aching with need.

"Is this okay? Are you comfortable?" His questions make her chest ache with a different kind of need to the one pulsing through her core.

"Yes, Rolan. Please, for the love of- fuck me against this door."

His moan in response to her words is loud and wanton. " Hells , Tav. Lift your leg for me."

She does, and he grabs under her knee, lifting it up so it wraps around his hip, the heel of her foot against the base of his tail while her other foot stays planted against the floor. His other hand comes between them, grips the base of his cock and rubs it against her folds. She throws her head back as she keens, and at the same time he lets out a groan closer to a growl.

"Fuck, you're so wet. Is- This is still okay? You want this?" His voice wavers with lust.

Hearing him curse is almost as incredible as hearing him speak infernal. "Yes , Gods if you don't-"

He's sliding himself into her before she can finish her threat, and the rest of her words fizzle out into a high pitched moan as she throws her head back. His length is ridged and she can feel every notch as it slides into her. He works his way into her slowly, thrusting only an inch at a time until his pelvis comes to rest against hers, and he folds over to rest his forehead against her shoulder.

His first half of his sentence is muttered, the second half directed at her, "Tam strikta , fuck. Ita infek'tum strikta. Tell me when you're ready, dilekt'miz."

"I'm ready, please, fuck me."

He silences his own moan by clamping his mouth over the meat between her neck and shoulder, and begins thrusting shallowly. The slide of him inside her, the ridges on his shaft dragging against her walls, has her tightening her leg around his waist and dragging him closer. He grunts through his mouthful of her skin and starts to pick up his pace, until he's thrusting hard and fast into her.

She's a mess, and she knows it, but it doesn't matter. She's digging her heel into his ass and arching her hips away from the door to get closer to him, head thrown back and eyes wrenched shut. It's too much, but it's not enough. She grabs his hand that isn't holding her knee up and places it round the back of her other thigh. He's a quick study as always, taking a firm hold on the back of her leg and hoisting her other leg up around him, so she's held up against the door by just his weight against her and his bruising grip. It changes the angle, he drives deeper into her, and they both moan in tandem.

He's speaking again, infernal dialect spilling from him freely into her skin, " Nezkiz. Nezkiz quam di'tez vellem. Quamdiu korpuz tuum'kontraz petivi. Vid'tez habzeq. Miz'tib animez'umne ." He speaks the words with a reverence that that has her keening, clenching around him.

"Rolan, I'm so close, fuck don't stop."

He shakes his head, thrusts into her harder, "Hells, I won't, Tav. I won't, I won't, adv'illi, adv'illi -"

The utterance of more quiet infernal words against her tips her over the edge, and she finds her release around him. His movements become stuttered, desperate, " Tez amorez. Tez amorez taz'multo. Perfik'miz. Amaz, amaz, num'quam latuz dezeraz. Morent'illi anim defendam."

He follows her over the precipice and empties himself inside her. She tightens her hold on him with her legs and kisses his neck as his hips twitch through his release, and as he stills they both try to find breath against each-other's skin.

"Gods, Tav." His voice is hoarse, "you- that was- I-"

She chuckles, which makes her walls clench and his hips stutter as he gasps at the feeling. "That was amazing, Rolan. What... Um. What were you saying?"

She pulls away to look at him, and his face is incredibly red. His freckles are barely visible through the violent blush. "Oh, um. Nothing- Nothing, really. Nothing important. Just... babbling. You know."

She laughs, slowly lowering her legs to the ground, both shuddering as he pulls himself from her. He mutters a quick incantation and they're both clean.

"You're going to have to teach me Comprehend Languages, now. I'm far too nosy to leave it at that."

"Hm. We'll see."

~~~

Translations:

"Tibiz plazet link'zon mezoq?" ("You like when I speak to you in my native tongue?")

"Zedzit'n, nul'umne? Zede illizquit diko." ("But you don't care, do you? It's not about what I say.")

"Morentez me'zam? Notzo'illi." ("Moaning for me already? Aren't I lucky.")

Quid plaket, dilekt'miz?" ("Please what, my beloved?")(he lies and tells her it means "please what?")

"Nezkiz quid'mih fakiaz. Volui'illi tamd'umne." ("You have no idea what you do to me. I have wanted you for so long.")

"Then again... Forzit adv'illi." ("Then again... Perhaps I won't.")

"Tam strikta, fuck. Ita infek'tum strikta. Tell me when you're ready, dilekt'miz." ("So wet, fuck. So tight and wet. Tell me when you're ready, my beloved.")

"Nezkiz. Nezkiz quam di'tez vellem. Quamdiu korpuz tuum'kontraz petivi. Vid'tez habzeq. Miz'tib animez'umne." ("You have no idea. You have no idea how long I've wanted you. How long I've craved your body against mine. I have dreamt of having you like this. My soul burns for you.")

"adv'illi" ("I won't.")

"Tez amorez. Tez amorez taz'multo. Perfik'miz. Amaz, amaz, num'quam latuz dezeraz. Morent'illi anim defendam." ("I love you. I love you so much. You complete me. Please, please never leave my side. I would protect you to my dying breath.")

[slavonicrhapsody]

I’ve been seeing a lot of people argue that Radahn would never agree to Miquella’s plans because he loves the Golden Order and would never want to replace it… but I think there are some nuances about the current state of the Golden Order that call that assumption into question?

The first thing to know about Radahn is that he’s defined by his idealization of Godfrey and his reign as Elden Lord. His lion armor is an explicit tribute to him, and he tries to emulate the “Lord of the Battlefield’s” martial prowess and heroic, honorable nature. When looking at the iconography associated with Radahn, it is always directly tied to Godfrey alone.

But Godfrey isn’t here anymore, he was banished… and the current state of the Golden Order is now extremely culturally different than it had been under his rule. The crucible and those associated with it gradually became less and less accepted, and more and more “disdained as an impurity as civilization advanced.” Godfrey’s crucible knights used to be heroes, and it’s even implied that they were the very face of the colosseums’ ritual combat… the Ritual Sword Talisman is “patterned after swords used in ritual combat held to honor the Erdtree,” and it’s the exact same design as Crucible Knight Ordovis’s sword:

so there’s this connection between the colosseums under Godfrey’s reign and the crucible.

But, in the present day, both the crucible knights and the colosseums have fallen by the wayside: “In time, the strength shown by these knights, and even their appearance, was seen as chaotic and deserving of scorn,” and regarding ritual combat, “the practice had died out by the age of King Consort Radagon.”

We do in fact see these hallmarks of Godfrey’s reign in association with Radahn as well — from Freyja’s backstory, we know that Radahn first met her by watching her fight as a gladiator at the colosseum (probably the one in Caelid!). And there’s a boss fight at Redmane castle with a Crucible Knight and a (red-haired!) Leonine Misbegotten! It’s also worth nothing that Godfrey, his crucible knights, and Consort Radahn all share the same earth-stomp move! Another interesting point is that Godfrey is associated with lions (Beast-Regent Serosh), and of course Radahn wears lion armor inspired by this, but there is also a Lion Guardian enemy at Redmane castle that has horns:

the old crucible society of the Hornsent revered the horned lion above all…

and Radahn, the “Lord of the Battlefield’s lion,” gains horns after being resurrected in Mohg’s body… literally becoming a horned lion!

I think it means something that Radahn is associated again and again with these symbols of the OLD Golden Order and the crucible… the time when Godfrey ruled, the crucible still flourished, and glorious combat reigned supreme. Yes, Radahn is absolutely defined by nostalgia and trying to recapture the glory of an old age… but I think this is actually a reason for him to OPPOSE the current Order, because now all the things he loved and admired about it are GONE! Indeed, there’s no evidence that Radahn made any attempt to preserve the current Order during the Shattering, and Morgott considers him to be a “willful traitor” with the rest of his siblings!

Does this mean that I think Radahn planned to be where he is with Miquella at the end of the dlc? Not necessarily, and I personally am really skeptical that where he ended up was entirely of his own choosing… I just think that the logic of assuming Radahn would want to preserve the Order in its current state is flawed, because the differences between Godfrey’s reign and Radagon’s reign are quite significant!

[petday]

your art is so so so so inspiring to me which is strange bc my style isnt very similar to yours at all. but it makes me happy to see your art, especially when you make art from things from childhood id forgotten about💫💫💫💫💫🩷🩷🩷🩷

Thanks. Your message and similar messages from others over the years inspired me to try to put into words why I draw 'nostalgic things'. I ended up writing a lot.

There was a period of time when I became cynical about being seen as an 'artist who reminds people of childhood' or a 'nostalgic artist'. I no longer feel that way but I will explain why. Some artists, who I like and respect, will sometimes mention 'nostalgia holding artist's growth back' and 'nostalgia causes learned helplessness.' But I feel differently.

Maybe I perceive time differently. I have lived long enough to witness cycles of 'what is valued, and what is not valued' repeated. For example, I loved what is now called 'Y2K' style, but during mid 2000s, for whatever reason it was derided as something to be left in the past, something embarrassing. "Aren't we glad we optimized things now, and they are 'sleeker' and less complex? Old things were childish, an embarrassing weakness for humans, we must advance and reach our ideal evolution." That became the common attitude. I felt pressure to have the same thoughts. I just couldn't make myself feel that way no matter what, though. Even with the increasing threats about, 'keep up with others or you won't ever develop positive social relationships!' I couldn't change my mind.

(If what is currently valued becomes devalued and then it becomes valuable after that… that's an odd cycle to me. For example, if we like bananas, even when bananas cannot be harvested, we still like them even though they occupy a smaller space in our minds but we don't deride them. Going even further, though, I sometimes wonder if it is possible for humans to eventually remove the 'devaluation' stage, particularly in art 'trends' as I am an artist. Whatever is considered valuable remains valuable. A counter arguement would be, 'no, the devaluation of the previous thing is exactly what causes the next thing to be valued, and then the cycle flows beautifully: X was valued -> Y is valued, X is devalued -> Y is devalued, X becomes valuable again. If you want X to always remain valuable, just develop better patience. Like we cannot pick fruit we like all year, we cannot simply keep adding onto the pile of things we like, something has to be seen as inferior by the majority of humans.' I disagree. I might explain my thoughts against this argument more in the future.)

Anyway, what people call 'Y2K style' or 'art that emulates how things commonly appeared in early years of 2000s' is popular nowadays. Even someone who did not grow up with it can become attracted to it. That 'desire' itself is a communication between past and present. Something can make someone feel 'lighter' [in sense of, "wow, the crushing weight of my circumstance feels not so crushing when I look at this'] -- a similar 'light' to how someone in the past was perceiving it when it was the present and not the past. So, even though two people were born in different eras and may not become friends or even meet, they're still connected by that 'lighthearted' feeling they both like. I know it will be seen as 'lower value' soon, but I truly cannot care because as I mentioned earlier, I might perceive 'time' weirdly.

When I started playing video games, a family member would point out, 'those games were made before you were born, interesting!' but that statement confused me at the time since my perception was, 'well, if these games are from before I was born, I don't understand why she is bringing attention to it. Why is it interesting? It's just regular. They're alive in the present now, because I'm in the present and so are they.' That was when I was a very young child. I subconsciously kept the same feeling even as I was reaching teenage and adult years. The feeling echoed when people liked to ask the question 'why are you still playing games from long ago?' as I got older but still played the same 'old' games. The answer: they are beautiful and will remain beautiful, and something made in the past is still communicating in the present, so are they really truly 'outdated inferior games'...? Just because the cycle of valued and devalued happened to be in a different position and those old things were seen as an embarrassment? (Now there are popular games inspired by the era of games many people ridiculed me for consistently enjoying, lol. Similarly, I was using 'crappy' old versions of programs even through 2017. Now people from wealthy upbringing and background use 'crappy' programs willingly. lol)

The present talks to the past all the time, nostalgia is not a dead end. In that sense I cannot see nostalgia as a death trap but rather a connection made from past to present. A string between the past and present that feelings can crawl across and communicate. Feelings such as 'I wish my life took a different direction. I can't make things like how they were back then, it won't ever be the same again, so I'll do nothing.' The criticism of 'nostalgia' is towards that last sentence. But there are things you can do with those feelings. 'Doing nothing is boring. And I keep thinking of that fun drawing I saw... I kinda wanna try to make something.' Making something while thinking of the past and present at the same time, so there is a communication between past self and present self. Pure bitterness communicating with slightly light-hearted view, the 'end result' is artwork/creation.

*I used light-hearted feeling as example, but nostalgia can exist for any feeling, and not just for people who were nice when they were younger. If someone was cruel as a child/teenager, after the person has been an adult for a while, they can communicate with their younger self about what was it about the cruelty that was enjoyable, and then extract a small part from the cruelty that they wish to bring back into the present -- example, the attraction to 'high speed activities, playful mischievousness' can be extracted from 'hurting people on purpose so they will acknowledge/react to you'. The dialogue could be something like, "'honestly, you and I both know spamming people with bad things felt pretty fun at the time, so let's just keep the 'high energy mischievousness' feeling and leave behind the crap that hurt people deeply, and let's make an animation while thinking of that high energy feeling.

^ I don't answer questions or reply to messages often because of giving answers that aren't too long or too short is tough for me. lol. Thanks for liking my art. I like a lot of art that doesn't resemble mine as well. It's fun! Like appreciating different flavours in the same meal even if you cannot make the meal yourself.

[icedroppedinparasolcider]

Momoi Airi is a Trans Woman

This is headcanon at the end of the day and there's nothing wrong with disagreeing, but the way she's written regarding her sense of identity as an idol, the choice of phrasing they use when she talks about herself in reference to others (namely Shizuku), and the connections her visual motifs provide to concepts and other characters tied to or commonly seen as trans just makes it incredibly hard for me to view her otherwise.

A lot of what I have to say is very personal to me; I'm a trans woman myself, and Airi's writing and experiences connect with me and my own transition journey in a way I haven't really seen anywhere else in media (I'm not a very prolific media consumer). So it's entirely possible a lot of this is just me projecting onto a character I care a lot about. But while I've adored Airi before this revelation, I didn't reach the level of attachment I have for her until the realisation of just how well she's written through the lens of a trans girl. Specifically one who's, for the most part, entirely socially transitioned but keeping the fact she is trans secret.

When Airi was little, she was, as she herself describes, very boyish. She'd get into physical fights with boys around the neighbourhood or at school, she'd come home most days covered in dirt and mud from playing with her majority boy friend group of the time. She was intensely defensive of her little sister, most of her fights being with possibly bigger-than-her boys because they were mean to her sister. It formed a reputation for Airi, a reputation that followed her as she began to deviate from these patterns and pivot her interests and activities hard and fast thanks to starting to watch idols on TV. She was enamoured with them, would rewatch recordings of their performances and interviews over and over so she could emulate it and be more like them. She'd stop getting into fights, stop playing with her rougher friends; everything started changing dramatically thanks to her being introduced to a new "type" of woman: an idol. Something Airi wanted to become, and was willing to change everything about her to be.

These changes weren't socially easy for her, though, with backlash coming from these old friends and classmates because of how girly she was trying to become. The idea of being a tomboy was something Airi started to consider a bad thing, a gross thing. During her Colourful Festival side-story, To You Who Yearns To Be an Idol, amidst a conversation with her younger self Airi calls the little girl a tomboy, something that makes the younger Airi immediately deflate and shy away from the conversation. It upset her to be called that, especially by an idol, something she wants to become. Which leads to the younger Airi talking about how she's been treated by her peers for changing the way she dresses and not playing the same way she used to, for changing the way she talks, with her being talked to like she's doing something horrible and wrong for simply chasing a dream of who she wants to be. And in this conversation, Airi says a particular line that changed everything for me:

This is said in response to Little Airi's repeating of what the boys in her class call her as she wears cuter, girly clothes. That she's some big, mean monster who shouldn't wear things like that, who could never become an idol. Effectively telling her that she could never be a girl because of the way she used to behave. She started as someone rough, someone harsh and dirty, that's not something she should—not something she could—change. Something we see in present day that she's largely internalised through her struggles with what it means to be an idol, her struggles with calling herself an idol.

For Airi, being an Idol and being a Girl have become synonymous with each other. Her ability to be an idol, to draw that attention, have a smile that sparkles on stage and in front of the camera, spread hope and joy to other people; this part of her identity has grown beyond her job, it's who she is as an individual. Being Momoi Airi, the second year Miyajo student, is inseparable from Momoi Airi, the ex-QT member and now member of MORE MORE JUMP! And if she can't be the image of an idol that exists in her head, that she's always viewed idols to be, that Haruka and Shizuku manage to embody, that Minori is becoming, then can Airi even really call herself as much of a person, of a woman, as them?

Airi's been in this constant uphill battle where she believes she doesn't sparkle as much as the other idols around her, so she puts more effort into learning how to make herself sparkle, but manages to convince herself that because she struggles with this, she's less of an idol than those very peers. It's in large part what Ice Drop is about, Airi's difficulty finding satisfaction with her work as an idol because it doesn't shape up to her own expectations and beliefs of what an idol "should be", because it doesn't match what she sees other idols she looks up to, like Shizuku, doing. Something also portrayed during Airi's conversation with Shizuku in Chasing the Radiance Beyond the Blue Sky, where she outright tells Shizuku that because she doesn't have the same physical appeal she has to fight harder and use different strategies to get any attention as an idol. And if Shizuku is the "perfect idol", and Airi will never be able to achieve that, can she even call herself an idol?

If she can't call herself an idol, does she even deserve to call herself a girl? Or are the harsh words of her grade school classmates right about whether she should be wearing the cutesy clothes?

A large part of Airi's struggle with this, why it's even a spiral in the first place, ties into her nature as a Solid Heart student as well as why I see so much of myself and my transfemme journey in Airi's story. It doesn't matter how many people tell you that you're enough and that you've done what you set out to do, not if every thought in your head is telling you they're wrong. According to everyone I know, I pass really well as a girl. My voice is naturally feminine, even without masking it very hard, I've basically never been misgendered since growing my hair out by strangers looking at me, I've even been told by close friends that they'll forget I'm trans because I'm just "one of the girls" to so many of them. And I appreciate all of it, so much; I'm very lucky to have had such a smooth social transition. But none of that changes who I see in the mirror, who I hear when I talk, what I feel when I wake up in the morning forced to acknowledge my body. I'll never be a "real girl", not until I fix these things, and it's entirely possible that it's impossible to truly get rid of this feeling.

That's what Airi feels regarding her identity as an idol. Everyone in the world could tell her how good an idol she is, how much hope she spread as Happy Everyday, how beautiful and bright her smile is. But that will never replace or fully mask the doubt in the back of her head about whether she's really an idol, because nothing that she used to do aligns with what she's always seen idols to be, so much of what she does today is so different from the reality of her dreams. She's not that idol, so is she even an idol at all? I'm not that girl, so am I even a girl at all? Obviously I am, and obviously she is, but it's a feeling of doubt that never goes away.

Airi needs to constantly be an idol, or she's not an idol at all. And, at least to me, this has come to mean to Airi that if she's not an idol, she's not a girl. Because all of the work she put into being cute and girly was to be an idol. If she can't accomplish that, does she even deserve to be a girl at all? Or is she just a fraud wearing a mask trying to make people laugh on TV?

[victoriadallonfan]

Rereading Ward, it’s very interesting how Victoria desperately wants to put on this facade of statuesque calm and implacable manner. Even without spelling it out, it feels like she subconsciously wants to be Brandish or Alexandria or Chevalier or arguably Scion: people who don’t break who don’t show any of their emotions and are steadfast about keeping to the job.

Except, that’s not true for them. Brandish, Alexandria, Chevalier, and Scion all break down at various points from the stress, all of them feel hampered by this facade more than anything, and it ruins nearly all but one of their lives.

And it’s especially not true for Victoria. She doesn’t like being this stiff upper lip person, despite her thinking it’s what she’s supposed to do.

Victoria is a passionate person: she likes making jokes and innuendos, she likes pulling pranks and having people pull pranks on her (in good fun), she likes being excited about nerdy shit and movies and music, she loves to hear people talk about their artistic passions, and she craves being able to help those who are dealing with traumas like herself.

She wants to be able to cry and love and hate.

And we see that it’s this side that compels her team to basically adopt her into their therapy group, it’s what helps Fume Hood find the confidence to stay a hero, it helps Ashley feel like she belongs and Kenzie like she can be loved. Rain feels like he actually has some on who will have his back, Sveta has a newfound sister, and the Capricorn twins feel she treats them with dignity and respect.

It even works on some of the villains she fights. Moose is basically her friend who can’t resist her passion for doing the right thing, Prancer finds her amusing but also identifies with her wanting something better than a life such as this, and when she’s trying to rescue the Old Man from the other villains - it’s her removing her mask and making herself more human, joking with them, that allows them to relent and play along.

Even in one of the darkest moments of the story, where Sidepiece is mocking Victoria for her rape, none of the other villains join in. Victoria is hurt, she’s offended, and she’s hating herself because of the comments said to her, but she notices the none of the villains think this is funny or seem comfortable with it. They don’t do anything about it, but it seems pretty clearly signaled that seeing this happen to someone who is visibly hurting is not something they agree with either.

And of course, her friendship and divorce with Tattletale, a person whom Victoria hated for her role in her wretching, but when they put aside the masks and bravado they find a commonality and love to people close to them.

And stranger still, they find themselves recognizing that they each sort of fill gap left by others in their lives, and grow to become deep friends even if it’s of the snarking kind. It’s Tattletale seeing Victoria broken by her power and Victoria seeing Tattletale broken from her trigger event that the first big steps to that friendship are made, and the deal is sealed when Tattletale confides in Victoria her own fears and vice versa.

Being this indomitable and implacable force of nature isn’t strength. It is arguably part of why the Simurgh was the final opponent and so terrifying. Human but not, a mere statue taking action with no care or concept of caring beyond The Mission.

Victoria being able to express her humanity and be vulnerable is what matters and what inspires people around her. And it’s very fitting that Chevalier, a person who, Victoria tried to emulate several times, realizes that maybe it’s time to follow what Victoria is doing and just… be human and vulnerable.

To rest and self care, and acknowledge that you need it.

[gynandromorph]

i phoned in a lot of this one, but... my hand hurts from thumbnailing, i just wanted it done. it's been half-done for a couple weeks now.

this is another NofNA style emulation comic, taking place 1 or 2 months after this one. I imagine that Legend has badgered PS relentlessly with study material, including jumpscaring her with flashcards, like in this strip, so it has sunk in pretty quickly. Legend is not known for her chill.

there was a lot of stuff that i could have included, but i wanted to keep this one short and to-the-point. it is a direct parallel to the facture Legend uses later in the comic with Machinations. i wanted to make the initial thesis's implicit relationship with memory more obvious. it spends most of the story trundling down a path about fiction, but it doesn't actually become fully realized until Legend reworks it to focus on memory specifically, with fiction as a motif nestled around the core, instead of being the core. more importantly, it was always at least a little bit about manipulating memory. Legend's mantle and diamond rings in the more "present day" comics were created with her only successfully telenoetic application of the style's supreme facture. this instance of telenoesis is supposed to be brought up a couple of times as evidence that there is *something in the thesis that is direly correct*. it would not have achieved telenoesis if there weren't something reflecting reality in its rhetoric. Legend just cannot figure out what is and is not the "real" parts of the thesis causing this effect. allusion, tangentially, always functions as a telenoesis, because it is always invoking memory by its very nature. it's not a wonder that Legend sees it as her most powerful facture.

she absolutely does not have the words for various forms of unconscious memory such as implicit memory. it would be like expecting an ancient greek scribe-in-training to know modern psychology intuitively. even up until the present day comic with Dr. Rations, Legend did not even know that memories could be inaccurate. it was interesting to try to figure out how she might conceptualize the fact that there are things your mind clearly acquires as memory, without being able to actually remember it consciously. i imagine that it's very instinctual to not doubt your memories; most people will consider reality itself fake before doubting their own memories or the beliefs built on top of them. relatedly, i figured PS, who has even less education than Legend, probably doesn't even have a concept of thoughts she doesn't think. it's a strange, inherently unknowable aspect of cognition.

the flower PS starts eating is a lion's tail flower (leonotis leonurus). lemurs are the largest pollinators on earth, and they consume the nectar of flowers regularly as part of their diet -- they also often consume most of the entire ass flower. the other plants i really did not bother to look into... it takes a lot of time, even with the extremely convenient inaturalist sources.

[difeisheng]

in a drama that pays SO much attention to and is deliberate about giving each character a very distinct silhouette, it has been driving me absolutely fucking insane for several weeks now that some of jiao liqiao's outfits are cut like li xiangyi and li lianhua's robes.

you can see the visual similarities between jiao liqiao's most-worn outfit and li xiangyi in the general form of the robes, but particularly in the drape of the sleeves and where they fall open at the shoulders (sorry, i don't know the technical term). it's harder to see here but both outfits also have bracers that match the robes in a very integrated way and colour-wise, with the same fitting to the sleeves.

here, if not for the colours and material of jiao liqiao's outer layer, this would be something li lianhua would wear. the fit of these robes are the same. the pleats at the lapels even match. jiao liqiao is visually paralleled with li xiangyi and li lianhua, mirroring the man she's forever seen as competition for di feisheng. it's as though in truly every way, she's trying to replace him. maybe if she tries hard enough, di feisheng will finally look at her for once.

i mean hell, think about how even more interesting this scene gets— jiao liqiao's "i'm the victor in this game of love" moment— once you realize she's taunting li lianhua about having a place beside di feisheng while emulating the image of li xiangyi, the man di feisheng cannot leave behind. ("maybe you could still have had him now if you'd stayed like this. if you hadn't become what you are now. it's too bad i stepped in all those years ago, and so you're in this state, isn't it? i've won, li xiangyi.") mysterious lotus casebook already did a stellar job in everything else in establishing jiao liqiao and li lianhua as rivals for di feisheng, but this visual aspect just elevates some of these character interactions throughout the show.

[nightislandnoveltymug]

actually, proper answer now that i'm awake and have had some time to percolate lol. best thing armand did!

i should say this is kind of a tie for me because the person armand becomes with daniel is always going to be up there -- he didn't let him die, he gave daniel what he wanted, but more importantly he told him, and showed him, that he loved him, and just in general in their time together he allowed daniel to see so much of his real genuine vulnerability and cared for him and worried about him so much and that fucks me up!!

but!! the thing i actually wanted to mention is his homes! (this is maybe cheating a little bit because it isn't something he did, it's something he does, but whatever.) one of the things i love most about armand is that he's always creating these stable places and central points for everybody to congregate on. while a lot of the others are sort of nomadic and don't stay in touch and you don't really know where they are, he is always (as he says) "a canker in the very eye of the world". he's easy to find, he stays in one place and he uses his resources and his power to create these stable, lasting home bases and then opens his doors to others. he creates stability and then shares it in a way that really nobody else does.

and i think it's very interesting because this sort of stability is a character trait that (i think!) maybe most people would first and foremost think to associate with elders like maharet, or marius, when in actual fact, the truth is that neither of them has ever done that -- for their own disparate reasons they've always been highly reclusive, and have protected their own stability by staying out of touch with the rest of the vampire world, not opening their doors, and for the most part not helping anyone or intervening in anything in any way.

there's something fascinating and honestly poignant about like... armand, maybe subconsciously, running a household according to an ideal which (imo!) is based on marius, except that marius has never actually done that. not for vampires. and so in actual fact, this is something that armand has innovated; this actually comes from him, and is coloured by his experience with the covens (which marius has never shown anything but disdain for), and perhaps even beyond that, by his experience with the sense of community in monastic life (which really ditto).

i personally suspect that rather than praiseworthy, he probably sees this as ultimately pretty self-serving on his own part, because he has this longing for community that drives him to create these places, so he probably just sees it as something he does so that he won't have to be alone. and also, from the way he talks in late canon you get the sense that he rather sees himself as trying to atone, and as trying to emulate those who are better than him. when in fact he's doing something that nobody else is doing, and in many ways (imo) behaving more like a leader of a community than any of the characters that everyone else thinks ought to lead, like marius or lestat. not because they couldn't, but because neither of them has ever had the resources, capabilities, patience, and willingness to create something like that and then open it up.

and for a character who's been so lost, and has spent so much of his life feeling lost, feeling abandoned (and i think, right up until present day, still feels that way really), and has spent so much of his life looking for something to anchor his life to, without ever having the luxury of truly finding it, and having to just sort of go on anyway, keep living anyway -- for that character to be a stable anchor point for everybody else is something that really really gets me about him, maybe especially because i think he isn't fully aware of it himself.

[vaspider]

I genuinely hope this isn’t too prying or intrusive, I am strictly asking out of curiosity but…. What…. Is going on with that 16 year old and why is it on a post about a house coat? Are you ok?

I'm fine.

That kid has been fixated on me since I said, basically, that the French Revolution killed a bunch of innocent people and isn't something to be emulated.

For the past 3 weeks, since I told her to leave me alone on Tumblr, she's been stalking me across the internet, digging up every possible way to contact me, and sending elaborate death threats along with suicide threats. I've turned off the contact forms on my professional website and NK. She's sent asks here and contacted me from multiple Tumblrs, multiple Facebook and Instagram accounts, TikTok, LinkedIn, Reddit, YouTube, BlueSky, and multiple email accounts. I'm pretty sure I'm missing something, though I do have it all screenshotted and saved. She found my phone number and left multiple threatening voicemails, and she kept contacting my business, sending death threats to places where my employees, including my younger brother, had to deal with them.

She seems to think that I'm a man, and that I'm attempting to use magic on her, and that she can threaten me into doing whatever it is she wants. I don't really understand what's going on in her head, and I'm not trying to do so. I don't really read the things she writes.

At this point, the FBI is involved - she's been sending death threats pretty much every day for about a month now with a few breaks here and there - and I've been declining to respond to her for the vast majority of that time, hoping that she'd get bored, or, hopefully, that someone who cares about her would realize how deeply, deeply unwell she is and get her help before this becomes a criminal matter. I really, really don't want to be put in that position, but I also can't ask the people who work for me (some of whom are my family) to deal with a constant barrage of messages detailing how if I don't publicly apologize for ... fuck all if I know or care... she's going to "slit [my] throat like a Sicilian" and throw my body in the Willamette River.

I really, really, really just want this kid to leave me alone. I didn't seek her out - she sought me out - and I'm not interested in talking to or debating with a 16 year old. But, also, the things that she's been doing for the past month are crimes and truly beyond the pale.

As to why that's on a video about a housecoat... your guess is as good as mine. Her last comments before this were on the two public videos on my abandoned YouTube account, both of which were process videos about making patches, and she left death threats on a post on my old personal Instagram that I made on the day of the Tree of Life shooting. It has nothing to do with me or what I'm saying - she seems to just randomly pick things to add her bizarre urban fantasy VASpider fanfic to.

Please leave that person alone, everybody. She is a third my age and very clearly deeply unwell. I'd been ignoring her, but I'm kind of hoping against hope that knowing that, yeah, actually, what she's doing is a crime, people take that seriously, and I really really really don't want her to fuck up her life? will convince her to stop.

I'm not afraid. I'm mostly just tired and very, very sad. It is really upsetting to see someone who is so out of alignment with consensus reality, and it's even more upsetting when that person is so young. I feel deeply sorry for her, both that she's unwell in a way that's clearly causing her harm, and that she doesn't seem to be getting the help she needs from the people around her. I hope it's just that the people around her don't realize what's going on and that someone can make them aware, because it is just... rotten... to see someone that young making such a mess of things.

I don't want to talk about this further. I've been avoiding talking about it publicly at all, but at the point where we're closing on a month... I dunno. I hope saying something directly and making it clear this isn't going to go the way she thinks gets it through to her.

I'm gonna go play with my dog.

[tinycheesecakedetective]

Bird Woman!

And with that, Black Raisin Cookie is complete. I see that maybe it's a smidge bit unfair PV and Black Raisin get full body shots but not White Lily and R. Velvet. Give it time, they're coming. In other news, I finally have a name for my Swap!Vanilla! Blight Orchid Cookie! And I'm still mad I didn't think of it earlier. Vanilla is a type of orchid, stem blight is a disease, and since PV's a healer, why not name the corrupted version of himself after a disease?

In addition, I would like to clarify something about Blight Orchid. That's very much Pure Vanilla. 100% him, no coma or anything. I know in the recent update they did the whole soul splitting thing (which is very interesting), but I feel like it takes away the bite of White Lily's story. So when the moonstone saves him, it'll only save his original body(which is now a dormant husk because it has no soul in it), and his soul is now Orchid's body. ...I need to get on a master post ASAP.

Back to bird lady, though. Black Raisin's role, if it isn't obvious, is taking the original role of Red Velvet! Instead of being discovered during the Witch's Banquet, Orchid releases himself into the world like the menace he is and finds her at the outskirts of her village. He sees a young Black Raisin injured and bedridden, and decides to take care of her as well as the other villagers. When he attempts to heal her he succeeds, but due to his corruption she develops more crow-like features like wings and talons. Orchid decides to stick around for a bit and before long the village becomes fond of him. Black Raisin specifically swears loyalty to him and becomes one of his most devoted members of the COD. So interesting thing, Black Raisin's personality doesn't shift that much. Asides from being evil now, she's the same Black Raisin we all know. Not her appearance. I made the decision to have her more crow like, a cool design choice but it caused immense pain trying to emulate into a cookie form. So that's on the back burner. She also has one wing on the side her arm was, meaning she can fly on her own. And that's about it! She was easy to conceptualize, but difficult to draw. I'm gonna try and see if I can start writing the actual thing. I think I want it to be more than just a concept thing. I think when/if I do, I can post it here and maybe AO3? I'm not sure yet, I guess it depends on how this goes.

[professional-bulshitter]

so so I finally found words for it but there is no way Annie as a character is meant to be with Jeff,,, and yes this does come from a place of hate for anything even remotely related to JeffAnnie but it's also more than that and totally based on their behavior towards each other throughout the seasons but I just found the perfect moment that incapsulates it

and that is in 4x13 Advanced Intro to Finality wherein Jeff is ready to graduate and there's sorta paintball with the darkest timeline and all that (which just saying is such a cool fucking setup but this is not the post where I talk about it) and both the Annie's (from the normal and darkest timeline) are facing off against each other,,, what the evil Annie tries to persuade the normal Annie with is the fact that they (jeff and her) are sleeping together in this alternate future and normal Annie literally responds with, and I quote, "No-one is supposed to sleep with him. Not even me." let that sink in

Now does this seem like somebody who has a serious romantic crush/is in love with the guy? What it seems like to me is a case of admiration (as a person and a human being) which is further warped into her assuming it's love because that's what we're supposed to do and told to do by society... What is more she obviously views Britta as a woman who (might not be the smartest and I will always hate on how the show ruined her character) but is still recognised and acknowledged as a woman,, something that Annie feels alienated from since most people look at her and tend to infantilize her (which is also a part in her dynamic with Jeff which is just,, n o),,, so a lot of the tines she tends to look at britta's choice of partners to turn to, to fall in love with (obv this is something that I derived from the 6 seasons laid out before me but this is my opinion and yeah)

and yeah the question then becomes why didn't she do the same with Shirley,,, number 1. Shirley is obviously in a different place in her life with her husband and kids,,, number 2. Shirley and her also have quite a big age gap which is again only widened by number 1,,, and number 3, if you notice properly there are episodes wherein you can see her try to emulate Shirley,,, the easiest and most off the top of my head example being the one where they are the campus security together which does end with her professing that she wants to be a grown powerful woman like her.

Now, if we talk about her other main crush, talking about Troy here throughout the first few seasons,,, it's again based a lot on her admiration for him for being popular and again THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO DO AND WANT TO BE especially when you're literally at the sidelines of the high school hierarchy so much so that you would busy your ass to score good and do good but still never be known by anyone or acknowledged for anything you do,,, and she technically knew nothing about him which at most i can grant her being infatuated w him and yeah

and most of her attraction to anyone feels very surface level,, in the this-is-what-i've-seen-people-do-so-this-is-what-i-need-to-do-as-well,, instead of being properly attracted in a,,, i want to be romantically with you sense,,, she's essentially creating a fairytale of her life and idealising it and all the models she has for them are heterosexually inclined,, so this is the kind of behavior she ends up adopting and emulating,,

so a large part of Annie's behavior I do chalk up to heterosexual compulsivity (or comphet) because there are moments throughout wherein she shows more admiration and love for women than men in a i-want-to-be-with-you kind of way (and it would be really interesting to look at her struggle as a difficulty to differentiate btw I want to be her,,, and I want to be with her)

a large part of her character is also so interesting to me because of the fact that it feels like she gets away from the writers quite a bit,,, because a lot of the instances you can see how the writers want her to be perceived vs how she ends up being perceived by us (but that's true for most things related to media concerning the expected reception vs the actual reception)

i didn't know this was going to end up being a lesbian or at least queer Annie post either,, but apparently that's my truth and I stand by it

(also I do acknowledge the fact that the part of all this (the part about her being queer) can be chalked up to my own desires and biases and a little bit of projection but regardless,,, in any case, JeffAnnie is still weird and bad and doesn't really fit for their characters regardless (technically for both of theirs but this too long already) and I'm a firm believer of that (anti JeffAnnie till the day I die fr)

[reitheist]

The way I'm seeing Bucchigiri so far is that the Honki people feel coded as homosexual and as a kid Arajin was really into being like that. But he was never open with that to anyone but his one friend, who was supportive and bonded with him over it. And in trying to defend that, that friend got mercilessly attacked while Arajin just ran away. So the way that Arajin so desperately avoids even Matakara is that he feels like that lifestyle reminds him of both that danger and his own personal weakness. And so he finds it safer to overcompensate by trying to act 110% straight.

ooh this is an interesting reading! i've thought about how fighting=an act of love in this show, but honki people=homosexuality could fit quite well into ara's character arc and relationship with matakara.

given how arajin is the protagonist of a brawling show, I think it would extremely strange for arajin to completely reject his childhood desire to become a honki person by the end. they've definitely played up his refusal of the call so far, so i think we're going to see ara stepping up into his fighting anime protagonist role. if we assume that fighting, in the language of bucchigiri, is an expression of true self/feelings, i think we're definitely in for some kind of reciprocity of matakara's feelings on ara's part. i will be very surprised if we don't get an arajin x matakara fight by the end.

arajin has obviously buried his feelings about his past very deep and has tried to pivot his life in a completely opposite direction. I wouldn't be surprised if it's revealed that his obsession with dating is due in part to his trauma surrounding fighting; possibly him trying to emulate what a normal teenager does instead of 'embracing his true self' (ie. becoming honki). if this is how the story goes, there will be a definite queer reading to be had.

allegorically, the story would read as: young matakara is beaten up for being queer, arajin sees this and knows being queer is dangerous, he runs away and tries to compensate for his queerness by acting 110% hetero, matakara meets back up with him years later and tries to bond with ara over queerness, ara soundly rejects him and tries to distance out of shame, and ara (assumingly) learns by the end that being queer isn't shameful and embraces that part of himself (i.e. becomes a honki person.)

this all makes me a bit curious how mahoro's character is going to be dealt with going forward. i think there's a few things they're likely to do with her:

get over her brocon stuff and get with arajin at the end as his 'prize' for finally accepting his role as a fighter

arajin's moved on from focusing on girls by the end, mahoro gets with matakara

remain brocon to the very end

get over brocon stuff, become friends with arajin

i'm not a fan of option 1, i find it boring and a disservice to ara's and her character. i think option 2 is plausible given the romantic trope-y type scenes we've been seeing between matakara and mohoro, plus them bonding a little over their brothers. however, neither of them seem really interested in each other during those scenes beyond caring that other knows arajin. these scenes seem superficially romantic to me. i'm not really a fan of this ship so i wouldn't enjoy this outcome and i find it a boring thing to do with mahoro. option 3 sucks, but it wouldn't do damage to any other character at least? option 4 is my ideal outcome. it would allow mahoro to finally function outside of being in love with her brother and be a 'look how he's matured' moment for arajin.

there are a few appealing other options (like giving her a kickass majin) that i would personally love the show to pull off, but unfortunately i don't think bucchigiri is going to do them with their limited run of 6 eps left. i'll be super excited if it proves me wrong, though.

sorry for the rambling here, thanks for giving me something to think about anon!

[drones-of-innocence]

ChatGPT Fanfiction in My Style

Just did a funny little exercise:

I asked ChatGPT to write a fanfiction like I would, and it lowkey startled me with how concisely it described my writing style. I know that it's AI and its literal purpose is to use all the data at its disposal to create these responses, but still, like, that's me. So at first I was a little alarmed by what it gave me.

...Like, excuse me?>?? This is absolutely something I would write??

Am I about to be outdone by a robot??

But then I kept reading:

Like it's cute, but..."Peach's Day??" Or Mario putting on his clothes "after the day's heroics?" The very juvenile cheesiness of "moments like these" that matter the most?

Granted it's very short so there isn't much wiggle room to try to make a nice point or theme like it's trying to there at the end, but I just get the sense that there's something totally absent from here that a human-written story would have effortlessly. I wish I could explain it but I can't really put my finger on it. It's disingenuous.

Maybe I'm not being fair because it's not like my singular style is providing the engine with endless amounts of data to try and really emulate my style. But I have several stories out there and I think it's interesting that it's able to define and approximate my style in some way.

I don't really have a huge takeaway here, only that I'm not really worried about AI taking over for creatives. This did a really nice job of imitating my writing in terms of the prose and how the characters interact, but it's very inorganic at the same time. The story feels blocky, almost. I'm no expert on what makes writing great, but I know it's not this, and that it's not me either. And anyway, the more these engines get refined, the less accurate they actually become, so I think us writers and artists are gonna be alright.

[honey-beann]

I'd Burn Every Soul I Knew (If I Thought the Fire Was Warming You)

rk boys (Nines, Connor, Sixty) x Reader

Chapter "Four" - Being a Kamski

Word Count: 2,310

Note: This chapter takes place both previously to all other chapters as well as immediately after the events of chapter "three".

Growing up with a brother like Elijah had been... interesting to say the least.

He was only two years older than you, but always seemed infinitely more intelligent, and had this certain charisma to him that you had simply never managed to match or emulate.

Not that you'd ever really wanted to.

No, growing up you'd needed to worry about far more serious issues, such as enduring medical emergency after medical emergency just for a chance at the simple kind of life you desired so greatly.

And surprisingly enough, Elijah had been there every step of the way.

If you told those who knew him presently about the boy (and even man) he had once been, they would scarcely believe you, but truthfully, he had never been anything but kind and understanding toward you for nearly your entire life.

Something about you, his "baby" sister, seemed to soften his usually logically driven and unemotional heart, and with each developing medical dilemma, he was always trying to make things easier for you. In fact, he had even spent several of his formative years yearning to become a doctor so he could help find out how to make that insufferable pain that seemed to constantly exist within your eyes go away.

But who could blame him?

You had grown up so lively, so adventurous, and so very much the opposite of your brother, that you had all but dragged him out of his comfort zone simply by virtue of existing at his side.

You were his other half, and he yours, and until you were around nine, you had done almost everything possible together.

But then the sickness started.

Some strange form of anemia at first, something your doctors had believed to be curable and simple, except it had just never gone away.

Some days, things were perfect, exactly as they once were, but on others, you were bedridden or passing out on the playground of your elementary school as your friends rushed to try and find your brother and get him to help.

And this constant struggle with your health, the seemingly endless back and forth of it all took its toll on your body rather quickly.

Soon enough, you were informed that it just might not ever truly end.

Sure, treatment existed, and it would make living easier, but it seemed that stressors, be it emotional or physical, played a critical role in the severity of your symptoms, and there was little that could be done about any of that.

So, you adapted.

Your entire family did.

And your entire life changed because of this.

Most of the time, you were trapped inside, not allowed to experience every day stress the way that others did at the order of your parents, and not allowed to risk your safety by doing those activities you had once found so much joy in participating in.

And all you'd had left was Elijah.

You saw him every single day, and even when you knew he was busy, when middle school became high school and grades became real and important things, he never ceased to spend as much time as possible at your side, both within and without the hospital room you found yourself occupying with increasing frequency as you grew older.

But what you had failed to realize, was how frustrated and angry your brother had become with the social and medical world around you, how upset he was with the ways that they had failed to make you better and keep you safe.

And thus came the obsession with more, the obsession with better.

The obsession with androids.

He had never told you much about his new fascination, nor his determination to make the world a better and more accepting place for you, not until after he had gone to college and you had gotten slightly better after moving away from your parents and living on your own.

The new environment, paired with the emotional control you had developed throughout the years, seemed to do you well, and until your early twenties, you had very few dangerous medical emergencies (though notably, whenever you had, Elijah, even with his increasing fame and popularity, was always at your side when you woke up at the Detroit Medical Center).

But when your parents died, things had taken a far more drastic turn for the worst.

You hadn't anticipated it, nobody had, it had been an accident after all, but even so, your heart hurt, and your body suffered the consequences.

Hospitalization after hospitalization followed, until it seemed that only the importance associated with your last name was keeping you alive.

Elijah was all that you'd had left at that point, your sole living family member, and the only person around to help take care of you, except you both knew that he was far too busy, and far too antsy to remain with you for long enough to help you get better.

So what did he do?

He built you not one, not two, but three care taking androids to watch over you for him.

One was built to emotionally soothe you, the other to physically protect you, and the final one to keep you happy, entertained, and comfortable.

They had differing assigned priorities and tasks, and it seemed, differing personalities as well, though you always wondered if this had been done intentionally, or if it was a result of their designated duties.

Connor, Sixty, and Nines became your everything at that point, in lieu of Elijah's once almost permanent seeming presence.

And after a year or two, everything had gotten so much better.

Sure, your androids acted strange from time to time, their once so artificial seeming emotions and reactions slowly but surely becoming more realistic and personal... but who were you to complain? It was nice to spend time with them, and even more so as they began to seem so much more human.

Of course, you missed Elijah, who seemed to have far less time for you now that he knew you were medically stable and had the androids to keep him updated, but there was a happiness to your life that you had not felt since the freedom of childhood.

You felt alive again.

That is, until the unthinkable happened.

Elijah disappeared.

And your health had crumbled at the news.

Two FBI agents had arrived at your apartment door, eyes downcast as they told you the news about the CyberLife CEO.

About your brother.

The only family that you'd had left.

Except they weren't telling you to make sure that you found out before the media did.

Rather, they were telling you because they didn't want the media to know at all, and they needed someone to make things seem okay.

And who better than his sister to attend events in the great Elijah Kamski's stead?

You were a Kamski, weren't you?

"I'm sorry, did you say Kamski? As in, Elijah Kamski, CyberLife founder and CEO?"

The woman sitting at the front desk in front of you asked, causing you to nod numbly in response, that question you had asked yourself so many times after your visit from the FBI repeating itself rapidly within your mind.

You were a Kamski, weren't you?

With all of the gravitas that the name carried now, you weren't so sure anymore.

Sure, you had been born a Kamski, before the name held weight, but that version of your surname felt eons away from the one people heard you say now.

When people asked if you were a Kamski, they weren't ever asking if that was your last name, because of course it was, they didn't think you were lying about that part.

You're a Kamski?

Was never about what your last name was.

It was about what your last name meant.

It meant vast intelligence, even vaster wealth, and a sort of solitude known only to those smart and rich enough to want and buy it.

And you didn't feel that you quite matched up to what your last name meant anymore.

So, were you even a Kamski at all, in any of the ways that mattered?

You weren't the Kamski, after all, had no desire to be.

But here you were, his unwilling and unfitting substitute.

You opened your mouth to speak, still feeling numb, and suddenly infinitely more tired than you'd been just seconds prior.

Perhaps it had been unwise to consider all of the things that haunted you so, but when you heard the question of your relationship to your brother, the memories had come flooding back all on their own.

They were never welcomed, they were just too strong for you to force out, so much like the very nature of your illness in general.

So much like Elijah in their perseverance.

"That's right."

You said politely, forcing a smile upon slightly trembling lips as the woman's eyes widened at your reply.

You clarified.

"I'm just his sister, no one you have to worry about rolling out the red carpet for, I promise."

You joked gently, praying for once that someone might just let this go so you wouldn't have to endure the pain of your memories for at least the remainder of your evening.

It would do you no good to think of Elijah, not after all that had happened,

Not after all that you did not understand.

The woman nodded tightly, offering a far more nervous and forced sounding laugh as she frantically typed something into her computer before standing up rather suddenly.

"Well in any case Miss Kamski, I am terribly sorry for the wait, had I known it was you I never would have requested your billing information, nor would our technicians have requested your presence in person. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."

You opened your mouth to correct her, to let her know that it was quite alright, that you even preferred it this way, but then the receptionist interrupted unintentionally,

"If you'd like, I can lead you straight to the room your android recently underwent repairs in. I believe the other rk800 model is there with him still."

At that, all thoughts regarding the way that people treated you, or the way that they thought of you based entirely upon your last name alone exited your mind.

You smiled as politely as you could manage, and nodded,

"That would be highly appreciated, thank you very much for the kind offer."

And with that, the three of you were off, the familiar and warm hand at the base of your back just about the only thing keeping you moving as you were walked in the direction of a large elevator that opened up to reveal an entire panel of buttons.

You watched as the receptionist scanned a card of hers and pressed a button before glancing toward you with a smile, her eyes briefly falling to the severe lack of space between you and Sixty before she looked away nervously, perhaps concerned about offending you by appearing judgemental or overly curious.

It took effort to not tell her how little you'd learned to care about the persistent stares of others when it came to the company you kept.

After what felt like ages of waiting, and what was perhaps the longest elevator ride of your entire life, the three of you finally stepped out into an almost hospital like wing located a great many floors above where you had once been, and from there, the woman led you to a room, one that was notably far quieter than the rest on this floor.

The sounds of technicians tinkering with machinery was loud here, though no more so than the bottom floor, and it filled you with some ignorance fueled dread to know that all operations has ceased in regards to Nines, at least as far as you could tell.

There would be no going back from whatever you saw on the other side of this door, no taking away any pain that the sight of him might cause.

You turned to Sixty nervously as the woman moved to push said door open, and he offered you a brief and reassuring nod, his hand still steady against your back as it applied the slightest of pressures, urging you to move forward behind your guide as she began holding the door open for you and your companion.

You thanked her quietly as you passed, the sudden absence of Sixty's hand going almost entirely unnoticed as you took in the sight before you.

There, upon something that resembled a metal table far more than a bed, was Nines, his chest open and his thirium pump exposed, as Connor sat in a chair located to the side of the bed, clearly having been asked to make himself as little of an obstacle to maneuver around as possible.

As soon as you entered and came into view, both android's looked immediately toward you, unwavering with their stares, though they were notably different.

One appeared to be of concern, as typical of Connor.

But the other seemed almost like disbelief, and seeing Nines wear such an expression baffled you so.

How strange it was, to exist within a world where he had not anticipated something.

How fitting, though, that said something would be you.

Slowly, cautiously, you took a step forward, allowing the woman and Sixty to fall behind you as you approached Nines' bedside, your eyes searching his even as you hung back a bit, as if afraid he might somehow move away if you got too close.

"Hi."

You breathed out softly, watching as the android looked between you, Sixty, and Connor over and over again before finally, he settled on you once more, though the words he spoke next were for anyone but.

"What is she doing here?"

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