#but he tells her that it’s a scar of heroism

[haliaiii]

fuck romeo and juliet i want what kane and kalani have

Thank you, have some more 👍👍

Also some misc. facts about them:

- Kain was the captain of the baseball team in highschool, his dream was to become a professional if he didn’t loose his leg

- Kalani did ballroom dancing in highschool with Val

- Kalani works for the government under the Council, her boss is Virgil who’s the Chancellor

- She lives in the capital but comes down to see Kain and the others on every other week on weekends/her days off

- they both like going bowling together with the girls

[sciderman]

Currently reading through the spiderpool blog and just finished the civil war era. That alternate timeline where Pete is an assassin, of course we know Ben is alive but what happens to that version Ben and May? I wonder if they know what he is doing and if they are still even apart of his life.

oh, anon. anon... it's a sad little tale,, it's a sad little story. i do imagine that this specific peter parker pursues his career of fame and fortune, and becomes vain and horrible. a real "talk to my agent!" kind of asshole.

and initially, he still cares for uncle ben and aunt may. they're the only two people in the world who loved him properly. but... but. fame goes to his head. the old cliché. he's making bank, and – there's less urgency for him to stay to support aunt may because uncle ben's still around, so, peter kind of goes his own way. very quickly he can afford his own apartment by doing tv deals and very quickly he's signed on for a movie deal. he is hot shit.

of course all of that fame and being so busy and being so secretive and spider-man's identity still being a secret to the public and to ben and may means that he ultimately grows distant from may and ben. he skips school to pursue fame, doesn't think he needs it. and i mean, the guy hates high school. it's a living hell for him. he's given an out - of course he'll take it. he doesn't graduate high school. doesn't get a college education. doesn't tell uncle ben and aunt may because obviously they wouldn't endorse him dropping out of school.

they wouldn't get it. they wouldn't understand. he becomes a mystery to them. they don't know where he goes, what's going on with him. he's barely home and then he, so very quietly, moves out with all the money he's made.

fame is fickle, though, and - spider-man doesn't capture peoples hearts for the long-term. spider-man doesn't inspire heroism in this world. he doesn't waste his effort on selfless deeds. he doesn't become a heroic figure. hence why wade doesn't join weapon x.

the spider-man of this turn of events doesn't amount to more than a quick cash-grab, and the people are over him so quickly. people who worked with him realise he's kind of a jerk, and isn't even pulling in money anymore. spider-man becomes a has-been before he even reaches his twenties.

so, this spider-man lives alone - can't face uncle ben and aunt may because he's quickly realising that yeah. he made the wrong choice. he dug his grave, and he has to lay in it. he's a drop-out, and he feels like peter parker is entirely worthless. he can barely look at himself in the mirror. at least as spider-man he has some power. some reputation. something. peter parker? peter parker disappeared off the face of the planet some years ago, and nobody knows who or where he is. peter parker is dead and neglected. there's no future for peter parker. so he builds a life with the skills that he has, as spider-man. he does what he's good at. becomes hired muscle. becomes hired muscle for anyone that can pay his rates. those are usually bad guys.

he falls deeper and deeper into that rabbit hole. and the further he falls, the harder it is for him to conceive he could ever come back to uncle ben and aunt may and have them welcome and accept him, with all the mistakes he's made.

unfortunately, in this particular timeline - as bex and i'd plotted it out for the alt!verse fic where wade winds up trapped with this sad, isolated peter parker - it still takes uncle ben dying to destroy peter's barricades and have him finally reach out to aunt may, in his way. first distantly offering her financial support before he, after months, eventually gains the courage to face her. and she can see the scars on his face.

i think it kind of universally takes uncle ben dying for peter to learn "great power great responsibility" - not as peter interprets or misinterprets it, but... the loss of uncle ben meaning peter recognising he has a responsibility to the people around him. he can't disappear from it. he can't isolate himself from it. when uncle ben passes, he finds out he has a responsibility to aunt may. that's kind of the whole thing, that's what great responsibility is. him filling uncle ben's shoes.

i think that's something i'm obsessed with - that peter knows that the loss of uncle ben means he needs to step up and fill ben's shoes, but he's still not entirely sure what it means. what he has to do to be able to fill that void that's left empty by ben's absence. what ben meant. what manhood means.

great responsibility is about manhood, and looking after the people you love. it's not - it's not about what you owe the world.

i think peter unfortunately has to learn that lesson the hard way, every time.

but, eventually, at some point, peter comes home.

[ms-kio]

Demon(slayer?)hood

Izuku Midoriya, Eri X Demon Slayer! 2296 Words

“Remember, boy. If you see me, run. I’m only about four hundred years old then. I will not recognize you.” The six-eyed demon commanded his pupil, the only sign of his aging being the silver white hair streaking his ponytail.

Izuku bowed, “Hai Sensei!” He said, the necklace gifted to him bouncing off his chest as he righted himself.

“And hide that necklace.” Kokushibo reminded Izuku. “Having one of my eyes on you is an immediate trial in the Demon Slayer Corps, and potential execution.” The boy nodded, tucking the jewelry under his shirt.

“I’ll only use it as a last resort.” Next to Izuku was a little girl, Eri. Since Overhaul had been imprisoned and not killed, she had no faith in her safety anywhere in this world. She was eager to step through the rip in reality behind her, to leave forever.

Kokushibo stood up, walking around his desk and embracing the two silently. He didn’t ask if they wanted to turn back, or change their minds. All he did was shove them through the portal, turning to face a mask, and a pair of golden eyes.

~ ~ ~

Izuku immediately turned, frantically looking for Eri. Where was she? He drew his Scorpion Stinger, wandering into the forest at the sound of rustling leaves. “You! Bow to the power of the Great Inosuke!” Now, Izuku knew someone named Katsuki Bakugou, and immediately recognized the attitude.

“Fight me!” The greenette shouted back. “Whoever wins has to help the other with one request!”

The boy paused for a minute, as if not believing what he was hearing. “Finally! Someone wants to fight me! Bring it on!” Inosuke howled, charging Izuku. The youngest of the Midoriya Family expertly sheathed his sword, entering a grappling match with his new friend.

Eventually, Midoriya decided to end their match, taking a deep breath in. ‘Broccoli Breathing, Friendship Bat!’ Izuku landed a roundhouse kick on Inosukes skull, causing the boy to collapse, his boar mask falling off and revealing one of the prettiest faces he had ever seen. But not as pretty as Eri’s, of course. Izuku picked Inosuke up, along with his mask, carrying him down the path towards the Final Selection, which Kokushibo told him he needed to attend if he wanted assistance from the demon slayers in any significant way.

Izuku had planned on just living a quiet life with Eri as his pseudo sister, but now with her missing -most likely separating in the portal- he needed all the help he could get.

: : :

About an hour later, Izuku had taken a break from carrying Inosuke, stopping by a river to bathe himself. The water was cold at first, but felt nice against his scars. Scars he had earned in only his first year of hero training.

The boy had given up heroism after the year was over. It had become too much for him, and he wanted to preserve himself for the people who he loved; Every inch of unscarred flesh, and every bone left unshattered in his body. He’d given OFA to Aizawa-sensei to give to students of his choosing, teaching the man how to separate the quirks and transfer them individually with Quirk Pass and how to use them over the summer. However, Aizawa had decided to have Izuku keep Danger Sense and Black Whip, being one of the few who knew of Izuku's plans to enter a world of demons, with a little girl to protect.

They had delivered the news in a last minute fashion to his classmates (aside from Bakugou), only telling them that he would be leaving, and not coming back. Izuku had cried when he told them, but he didn’t regret it. He couldn’t bear to look at the world he lived in any longer, cloaking disdain for it every minute of every day he was allowed to let his thoughts stew.

And what better place to go than Kokushibos own world? A place he might be able to find something familiar without wishing it wasn’t there.

Izuku was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed Inosuke join him in the river until now, quiet and with his back turned as he washed himself. His mask and clothes were on the riverbank with Izuku's belongings, however, they weren't folded like the greenette’s was.

The duo continued to respectfully ignore each other until the hour was up, when they both left the river to dry and get dressed.

“Inosuke-san.” Midoriya spoke up after a minute, drawing the boy's attention. “Are you alright?” Inosuke paused for a minute, before sparkling and answering.

“Yup!” The bluette replied. “I was being quiet because creatures usually don’t like to talk while they are vulnerable, or their scars are present.”

Izuku smiled, then grinned. “Thank you Inosuke. By the way, what is your full name?” He asked.

“Hashibira! Hashibira Inosuke! What is your name, person-I-owe-a-favor-to?” Hashibira asked in turn, still sparkling.

“Midoriya Izuku.” The boys sparkling intensified, causing Izuku to shield his eyes. “Tone it down, will you?” The sparkling went down, and Izuku was able to see again. “My little sister went missing. She has pale blue hair and red eyes. Would you look for her when we part ways?”

“Fine! I will find your sister! You can count on it!”

~ ~ ~

Eri opened her eyes, looking around. Where was she? Where was Izuku?!

Suddenly, the horned girl heard the strike of a biwa, and her surroundings changed. She was on a tatami mat floor, in a room that had walkways and stairs on the ceiling and walls, appealing to have infinite surfaces in every direction. "W-where am I?" She asked quietly, too confused to be scared. "You are in the Infinity fortress, young one." A femenine voice replied. Up on a raised platform, a woman holding a biwa looked down at Eri. "Tell me girl. Are you human? Can you walk in the sunlight?" Eri nodded, hesitantly looking around. The woman struck her biwa again, teleporting next to Eri, causing her to jump a little. "Sit, girl. What is your name?" Eri sat down obediently next to the woman,"My name is Eri Aizawa."

~ ~ ~

Nakime glanced at the girl, noticing the exhaustion on her face. "Come, girl." She said, putting her biwa down. "You look tired, you can lie on my lap." The pale blue haired girl cast her a thankful look, accepting Nakimes offer and almost immediately falling soundly asleep, in what looked like the first time in days.

Not an hour later though, Nakime sensed the Upper Moons. They were granted permission by Muzan to enter whenever they pleased, much to her irritation, so Muzan allowed her to kick them out after 24 hours if they were too bothersome. Kokushibo and Akaza were never a problem, Daki and Gyutaro mostly minded their own business, but the other three could get annoying as hell. It was even worse when Doma and Akaza were in the same area, she always had to clean up their messes. Though, she really couldn't blame the ladder.

Kokushibo was the first to reach Nakime and the sleeping girl, much to her thankfulness, who seemed to catch on to the situation and went to quiet the loud ones. Namely Doma, but the others too. Roughly 15 minutes later, the others arrived.

They were all quiet, much to Nakimes temporary relief, until Doma opened his mouth. "Aw! How cute!" He said quietly, to everyone's surprise. But, he wasn't quiet enough. The girl jumped, clutching onto Nakimes kimono in fear, snapping awake instantly. The biwa demon glared at the blonde, placing a hand on the girl's shaking form.

"Doma, you fool." Akaza hissed. "Kokushibo said to be quiet." The demon promptly decapitated Doma with his hand, veins bulging.

"I was just trying to be nice!" Doma protested.

Nakimes anger had been steadily rising, but immediately simmered down when the girl stopped shaking, standing up and timidly approaching the decapitated head. The gore didn't seem to bother her as blood dripped onto her feet, proceeding to hold the head up to Domas' still standing body. "H-here you go sir." She said quietly, the demon taking his head and putting it back on his head.

"Why thank you little girl!" He said. No longer trying to be quiet, but not loud either. The girl quickly zipped behind Kokushibo, clutching his hakama pant leg as she eyed the other demons cautiously.

~ ~ ~

Kokushibo looked down at the little girl, giving her a questioning look as she returned his gaze. It was silent for a moment as they had a small staring contest, until she wrapped her arms around his legs. "You look like you need a hug." She said, as she closed her eyes and pressed her face into the side of his thigh. The demon's stoic demeanor broke as a small smile graced his face, placing a hand on the girl's head. A calm, peaceful sensation washed over Kokushibo as he ruffled the girl's hair, his eyes falling closed in a happy manner, his smile widening ever so slightly. But, the moment was ruined when the duo heard the metallic clang of one of Domas' fans clattering to the ground.

Kokushibo almost felt bad for his second.

~ ~ ~

As Akaza turned around to face Kokushibo, he saw something he never thought he would ever see in his life. 'Kokushibo is smiling. Upper Moon One is fucking smiling.' Using his compass, Akaza sensed Doma was about to turn around and say something stupid, so he quickly slapped a hand over his superiors mouth, motioning to Kokushibo.

'And Doma stayed quiet. Doma is being quiet- WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!?'

~ ~ ~

Muzan Kibutsuji was quite confused when he felt large amounts of panic, shock, and confusion from Akaza. But oddly, Upper Moon Three wasn't dying. This caused Muzans confusion to rise. He looked into Akazas head to hear: 'Kokushibo was smiling. Upper Moon One is fucking smiling.' Akaza then quickly slapped a hand over Domas mouth.

'And Doma stayed quiet. Doma is being quiet- WHAT THE FUCK IS-' And thats where Muzan left Akazas mind.

He then decided to visit Kokushibos head and felt a peaceful serenity in the demon. His eyes were closed, but he could feel a small child hugging the demon's body. From Upper Ones memories, he saw the face of a red eyed girl, with a small, barely noticeable stub of a horn. In the background, the demon king could hear Daki fawning over the girl in her head. Muzan then shifted to Doma, who was stunned to silence, almost feeling bad when the blonde dropped his fan.

~ ~ ~

Eri jumped when she heard a metallic clang, looking over to the blonde man, who seemed relatively shocked. Eri hesitantly let go of the six-eyed man's hakama, walking over and picking up his fan. "S-sir?" She stuttered out, drawing his attention. "You dropped this." The girl held up his fan, seemingly snapping him back to reality.

"Oh, thank you! I was just surprised, it's not often you see Kokushibo-dono smile." The blonde smiled, who Eri remembered his name was Doma, from when Mr. Kokushibo was telling them about his world.

She gave a small nod and hurried over to said pink-haired man, hugging his legs in a similar manner. "You also look like you need a hug." Eri said. This one was Akaza. Kokushibo had described him as one of the better ones, he wouldn't hurt her. She didn't notice Akaza giving Kokushibo a panicked look, asking for advice. The demon only nodded towards the girl's head with his own, prompting the nervous demon to pat Eri on her pale blue locks. Eri didn't notice any of this, only leaning into the demon's touch, happy for the comforting gesture.

Eri then passed out, stressed by the recent development, and light headed from the last blood draw.

~ ~ ~

Akaza panicked again, quickly catching the girl's limp body as she fell. Did he do something wrong?! He glanced around to see the other Upper Moons snickering, even Kokushibo had an amused glint in his eye. Akaza then glanced at Nakime, begging her for answers. She only smiled and gestured to her lap, Akaza quickly placing the girl with her.

"Akasa, you dolt." Daki snickered. "The kid's just tired and stressed. Don't worry your pink-haired head." Akaza sighed in relief, almost wilting. But he, and all the other Upper Moons, went ramrod straight when they sensed Muzan in the room, bowing immediately. Aside from Nakime, who simply straightened in attention.

"Originally, I was going to make her my heir, and train her to be the next Demon Queen." He stated. "However, it seems being with you six would be better for her. Teach the girl the ways of the Upper Moons, only then I will make her the new ruler of demons." Muzan then warped away, presumably returning to his office. All of the demons were shocked at this new development, Muzan was not one to give up even an ounce of his power.

"Well well well!" Doma was the first to speak up. "That is quite interesting! What should we teach her?" He asked.

"I'll teach her hand-to-hand." Akaza offered.

"Swordsmanship." Kokushibo continued.

"I'll teach her how to appear human for when she becomes a demon!" Doma said.

"I'll help with that." Daki also said. "And Gyutaro says he'll teach her about poisons. Hantengu, you and Doma can teach her psychology. And Gyokko, you and Nakime can teach her about music and craftsmanship." The lewd demon ordered, not afraid of her superiors. During this, Nakime had put the girl to bed, much to Akazas relief. He swore, if anything were to happen to her, Akaza would kill everyone in the room and then himself.

~ ~ ~

Muzan choked. What now?!

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

May 11, 2024

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

MAY 12, 2024

If you google the history of Mother’s Day, the internet will tell you that Mother’s Day began in 1908 when Anna Jarvis decided to honor her mother. But “Mothers’ Day”—with the apostrophe not in the singular spot, but in the plural—actually started in the 1870s, when the sheer enormity of the death caused by the Civil War and the Franco-Prussian War convinced writer and reformer Julia Ward Howe that women must take control of politics from the men who had permitted such carnage. Mothers’ Day was not designed to encourage people to be nice to their mothers. It was part of women’s effort to gain power to change society.

The Civil War years taught naïve Americans what mass death meant in the modern era. Soldiers who had marched off to war with fantasies of heroism discovered that newly invented long-range weapons turned death into tortured anonymity. Men were trampled into blood-soaked mud, piled like cordwood in ditches, or withered into emaciated corpses after dysentery drained their lives away.

The women who had watched their hale and healthy men march off to war were haunted by its results. They lost fathers, husbands, sons, and brothers. The men who did come home were scarred in both body and mind.

Modern war, it seemed, was not a game.

But out of the war also came a new sense of empowerment. Women had bought bonds, paid taxes, raised money for the war effort, managed farms, harvested fields, worked in war industries, reared children, and nursed soldiers. When the war ended, they had every expectation that they would continue to be considered valuable participants in national affairs, and had every intention of continuing to take part in them. 

But the Fourteenth Amendment, which established that Black men were citizens, did not explicitly include women in that right. Worse, it introduced the word “male” into the Constitution when it warned states against preventing “male inhabitants” from voting. In 1869, the year after the Fourteenth Amendment was added to the Constitution, women organized two organizations—the National Woman Suffrage Association and the American Woman Suffrage Association—to promote women’s right to have a say in American government.

From her home in Boston, Julia Ward Howe was a key figure in the American Woman Suffrage Association. She was an enormously talented writer who in the early years of the Civil War had penned “The Battle Hymn of the Republic,” a hymn whose lyrics made it a point to note that Christ was “born of woman.”

Howe was drawn to women’s rights because the laws of her time meant that her children belonged to her abusive husband. If she broke free of him, she would lose any right to see her children, a fact he threw at her whenever she threatened to leave him. She was not at first a radical in the mold of reformer Elizabeth Cady Stanton, who believed that women had a human right to equality with men. Rather, she believed strongly that women, as mothers, had a special role to perform in the world.

For Howe, the Civil War had been traumatic, but that it led to emancipation might justify its terrible bloodshed. The outbreak of the Franco-Prussian War in 1870 was another story. She remembered:

“I was visited by a sudden feeling of the cruel and unnecessary character of the contest. It seemed to me a return to barbarism, the issue having been one which might easily have been settled without bloodshed. The question forced itself upon me, ‘Why do not the mothers of mankind interfere in these matters, to prevent the waste of that human life of which they alone know and bear the cost?’”

Howe had a new vision, she said, of “the august dignity of motherhood and its terrible responsibilities.” She sat down immediately and wrote an “Appeal to Womanhood Throughout the World.” Men always had and always would decide questions by resorting to “mutual murder,” she wrote, but women did not have to accept “proceedings which fill the globe with grief and horror.” Mothers could command their sons, “who owe their life to her suffering,” to stop the madness.

"Arise, women!” Howe commanded. “Say firmly: ‘We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies. Our husbands shall not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause. Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience. We, women of one country, will be too tender of those of another country, to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs.’”

Howe had her document translated into French, Spanish, Italian, German, and Swedish and distributed it as widely as her extensive contacts made possible. She believed that her Women’s Peace Movement would be the next great development in human history, ending war just as the antislavery movement had ended human bondage. She called for a “festival which should be observed as mothers’ day, and which should be devoted to the advocacy of peace doctrines” to be held around the world on June 2 of every year, a date that would permit open-air meetings.

Howe organized international peace conferences, and American states developed their own Mothers’ Day festivals. But Howe quickly realized that there was much to be done before women could come together on a global scale. She turned her attention to women’s clubs “to constitute a working and united womanhood.”

As Howe worked to unite women, she came to realize that a woman did not have to center her life around a man, but rather should be “a free agent, fully sharing with man every human right and every human responsibility.” “This discovery was like the addition of a new continent to the map of the world,” she later recalled, “or of a new testament to the old ordinances.” She threw herself into the struggle for women’s suffrage, understanding that in order to create a more just and peaceful society, women must take up their rightful place as equal participants in American politics.

While we celebrate the modern version of Mother’s Day on May 12, in this momentous year of 2024 it’s worth remembering the original Mothers’ Day and Julia Ward Howe’s conviction that women must have the same rights as men, and that they must make their voices heard.

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[obsidianpen]

Tbh I think BG!Hermione had it coming... I've been very meh about her since the moment she decided to kill Merope. Now, Merope did a pretty despicable thing herself, but there were extenuating circumstances, namely that she was a desperate girl that grew up in terrible conditions in abuse and poverty that probably had very little understanding that she actually raped Tom Sr. in the first place (seeing what the Gaunts were like and how wizards and witches seem to regard love potions in general, I doubt she even realized she did anything wrong at all). She didn't deserve to be killed for that imho, and she certainly did not deserve to be killed for the (still hypothetical) crimes of her yet unborn child.

Before someone says that she would have died anyway, I say that magical medical intervention would have most likely saved her. If Hermione saw it as necessary to disrupt the timeline, she could have taken Merope to St. Mungo's, Merope would have survived and loved her son, and he would never become canon Voldemort. (As per Word of God, Tom Riddle would have become a different person if his mother had survived.) Of course, Hermione canť know that, but what she _ought_ to know is that killing young, pregnant, desperate women isn't usually considered a hallmark of heroism.

For that matter, I'm still not sure what Hermione exactly intended to achieve by going back in time? Like, say, that the original timeline disappeared... so Hermione sentenced all those people to non-existence without their consent because she wasn't happy with her own life... am I supposed to cheer that? The second option is that the original timeline didn't disappear, but Hermione created a divergent one. So, all that suffering in the original tiomeline still had happened, she just created a new timeline in which people can suffer in a myriad of new ways (or maybe they won't, the judge is still out). Like, Hermione dear, wouldn't it be easier if you had just emmigrated to the US for real in your own time? The British wizarding world seems very isolated, so I doubt anyone would care about your love life in the US. Could have started there a new life and everything. For an alleged genius, she kind of didn't think it through or I just don't see it. I'm not a genius!

I don't know if this was the intention or not, but I cannot help it, I just find this Hermione very selfish and unlikable. I enjoy the story for the suspense and the amazing worldbuilding and the plot and for the great portrayal of Tom Riddle on the way to becoming a full-fledged Dark Lord, but Hermione... she's not really a villain, but she's not a heroine either anymore and she canť own it, which drives me mad. Am I too harsh on her?

well, no, you’re not too harsh on her - she is not real, and you as the reader with autonomy are allowed to feel however you like about any character you read. I don’t think many people look at Hermione as a ‘hero’ (protagonist does not equal hero), she’s just a jaded girl hanging out with a jaded boy whispering bad ideas into her head. As for what could have happened with the timelines, I already had her and Draco talk about the possibilities extensively, so I won’t rehash it, but yeah, they don’t really know, and their motives are mostly selfish, yes. But not entirely - they conclude they would save far more people than they could conceivably damn. It wasn’t ever about starting a new life, it was about erasing their scars, preventing the wars from happening at all, hopefully in their timeline and therefore ‘rewriting’ it (this obviously did not happen, much to Hermione’s dismay).

anyway, not sure what the comment is supposed to be doing. I don’t care if you or any in particular reader find hermione unlikable or not, it’s fine? If you think you are supposed to always like the MC, that’s just… not true. Have your feelings. Like or don’t like whoever. I’m not her to tell you how to feel.

[ships-to-sail]

Five facts AU *cracks knuckles*: D&D AU with Alex as one of the adventuring party and Henry as the grandson of the shapeshifter dragon queen

xoxo MJ/kiwiana-writes

ooh, yes please!

The only reason Alex handed over the sword to begin with was because Henry had asked nicely. If he'd known at the time that Henry would later hold it to his throat and tell him that the only way for him to live in this life was for Alex to meet him in the next one, he might have held on to it for a few more hours before he'd parted with it.

When he'd come of age, Henry refused to embrace the scorching fire that was the right and revelry of his royal family line, choosing the impossible task of embracing logic, law, reason and rhetoric over the screaming rage and crushing rage of the monarchs before him in the line. Even now, almost a century later, he still fights to hide the scars on his neck from every swallowed flame.

Alex had bet their first kiss would taste like the cherry spice of spring wine, and Henry had bet him that it would taste like the ember and ash of coal-roasted chestnuts when the first autumn leaves hit the ground. They both lost, sliding Nora a cool twenty gold apiece when their first kiss was a shot of the summer sun with a goblin blood chaser, the carnage of the Battle of Helion still fresh on the ground around them.

Nora has a plan, on the metagame level, to betray the party and kidnap Henry's cunty dragon grandma to sell her to the rebels currently planning a siege of the capital. The party plans a peaceful exchange for hostages, but honestly Nora is tired of the bigoted bullshit Pez has to come up with as their DM. Only June knows of her betrayal. However, Henry does know about her plan to double-cross her betrayal and use the threat of death to barter for even greater stakes. No one knows about her plan to triple-cross them all and slit the old bitches throat herself. Long live rogues, long live Equestria.

No one ever guesses, but the truth of the matter is: it's Henry who brought Alex to the table. Henry, who's love for stories pushes him outside of himself and into the very-much-not-a-math-gay world of character sheets and stat boosts; Henry, who comes home for months with his face practically split in two with joy as he replays for Alex a story of epic proportions, a tale to rival Lord of the Rings with arguably way hotter elves. Henry, who one night drags Alex along when bar trivia is cancelled and, tray of fruity pebble rice krispies in hand, introduces him to a world of heroism, of chivalry and slaying and as many conquerable villains as Pez has the time to throw at them (and the dice have the willingness to help them defeat). So it may be Alex who falls harder, enamored with the ability to now love Henry in a million different lifetimes every other Thursday. But it will always be Henry who fell first.

[Send me a potential AU and I’ll tell you five fun facts that would happen in a story.]

[mahko-writes]

Day 14: Telling

“Have you ever wondered if you were made with a specific purpose?”

G’raha Tia paused mid-bite of his taco and stared across the table at Mahko, he returned the piece of food to its plate and studied her face. He could not see any major differences from her normal resting position, yet there was a strange feeling of something being off. He cleared his throat and cocked his head to the side, “I'm not quite sure I follow, my friend. Could you explain further?”

Mahko nodded and looked down at her drink, fidgeting with the cup. “Remember when we first met, our first-ever adventure together?”

A nod, “Yes, and please don’t remind me of my behavior back then. I assure you that impetuous youth has long since left me.”

This earned a small chuckle from Mahko, though her green eyes betrayed her jovial display. “Right,” she continued, “and obviously you remember the revelation of your bloodline and your decision to inter yourself in the tower.” She sipped her drink, “Did you never think about why it was you? Did you ever wonder if sealing the tower was all you were born to do?”

G’raha dabbed at his mouth with a napkin, having devoured the taco as the warrior of light walked through her logic. He nodded, “It certainly did, but that changed after the events with the First. I am my own person now, and the tower is secured.” He reached over and snatched up another taco, happily gorging himself with it.

Mahko took another draw from her cup and rested it on the table, she looked at the slight reflection of herself on the liquid’s surface, watching how every subtle movement, including the small vibrations from her pulse, distorted the image. She sighed and rubbed one of her horns, “You might be, but I’m not certain I am.”

A pregnant pause, partially because the miqo’te was busy swallowing yet another taco. G’raha looked over at his friend, concern starting to push away his appetite. “I’m sorry, what do you mean by that,” his eyes darted to locate his staff, just in case, “Are you under the influence of another’s will?”

She shook her head, “No, it’s nothing like that.” She quickly ate a taco before continuing, and before he could finish the lot, “I find myself wondering if heroism and combat are all I’m meant to do. Every adventure I've had has culminated in a confrontation between me and a being of opposing strength.” She took another drink, emptying the cup and signaling for another round. “Even here in Tural, a journey that we had made light of in comparison to The Final Days, it ended with me performing regicide. It feels to me that despite my actions earning me titles like ‘liberator’ or ‘champion’, I am nothing but a living weapon.”

G’raha’s ears tilted back against his head, it was true, almost every journey Mahko took involved her engaging in combat. The star would not exist without that combat prowess. It was not like the scions could not hold their own either, all of them had seen their fair share of bloodshed, and all of them had participated. “Mahko…,” he began, trying to choose his words with care-

The au ra held up her hand, “Before you try to assuage my feelings, it’s not the killing that concerns me. It’s this feeling, almost a compulsion, for me to act as the spear point.” She looked at her hand, calloused and scarred from countless engagements, “My body has this need to throw myself into the fight, to strike hard and fast before there’s a response.” She looked back across the table to meet G’raha’s gaze, the man’s red eyes a sharp contrast to hers, “Then in the First, I met a part of myself and he had a similar nature because we’re of the same sundered soul. Then in Elpis, I learn more about the Ancients, about their strict hierarchy.” She pauses in her ramble to drink from her new glass, “And while putting a stop to Athena in Pandemonium I learn that some souls are created with single purposes in mind! That’s what worries me, am I only fighting because that’s what my soul was made to do, or is my soul telling me to fight as part of its purpose?” Mahko chugged down the remainder of her second drink, hoping the alcohol would calm her anxiety.

G’raha simply watched as she pounded the beverage, in awe of her small frame being able to handle that much mezcal. His thoughts, however, were focused on her ramble. She had good reason to be concerned about everything she had learned, and recent events clearly did not help her doubts. He cleared his throat, “I see… Thank you for telling me this, I now see why you asked that first question. Would it help if more of us were included in this? Perhaps I should send for Y’shtola?”

Mahko shrugged, feeling the embrace of drunkenness starting to creep into her mind. “If you think that’s best, you can,” she slurred, her body wavering in her seat, “I’ll be here as long as you want.” She slumped forward and lay against the table, “I’ll just rest my eyes until she comes…”

[novemberhope]

Summary: Niara and Ginny finally come face to face in Dressrosa in the colosseum. Notes: The third fic in a short amount of time. I'm rather pleased with myself actually. Let's hope I can keep this up. Please note that it's been a while since I've read the Dressrosa arc, so the surroundings here might not be 100% canon accurate. Word Count: 2466

The Colosseum stood high against the bright sky of Dressrosa, a symbol of cruelty and entertainment. The air was heavy with the smell of sweat and fear, as warriors battled for the twisted enjoyment of Doflamingo and his cheering crowd. This was a place of violence where only the strongest would win and earn a great reward—a chance to possess the Flame Flame Fruit.

In the shadows, Ginny stood with her long red hair flowing down her back. Scars marked her skin, each one telling a story of the life she had led ever since she had departed from the Spade Pirates. The latest one went right across her face. It still felt fresh. She had gotten it while being held prisoner, forced to fight in the Colosseum. She hated this place. But a small spark of hope filled her now. If she could grab that devil fruit, it would mean freedom from slavery and the knowledge that she would ever again be dependent of anyone. But she wasn't alone. 555 fighters would be competing against each other, sorted into four blocks. And only the strongest would remain.

"Well, well, look who it is," a voice behind her interrupted her thoughts. Niara stepped into sight, already having gone through a round of fighting. She looked bruised and her clothes were torn and dirty. Apparently fighting in close combat was still not her thing. But she seemed fine otherwise. Her brown eyes narrowed as she stepped closer. “Still trying to make it big, huh?"

Ginny’s green eyes narrowed. She balled her hands into fists. As she stood her ground, she faced Niara, who wore an infuriatingly carefree expression. As always, everything seemed to be a joke to her. It always had been like this. Niara had to smile and turn on her charm and everything was handed to her on a silver platter while Ginny had to fight for everything all the time, only to be let down again and again by everyone around her.

“What do you want, Niara?” she wanted to know.

Niara rolled her eyes, twirling a strand of her brown hair. “Oh, come now, Ginny. Can’t a girl just drop by to catch up? We haven’t seen each other since, you know, Marineford.”

“Don’t bring Marineford into this,” Ginny hissed. “Or Ace.”

“How can I not!?” Niara replied. “After all, we both are competing for the same thing - the Mera Mera no Mi. Which I want to point out you of all people have no right to after what you did!”

When the past was brought up, it always felt like a punch in the face to Ginny. She was haunted by the memories from that day of betrayal. And for what? She’d done it for the man she had called her father only to learn later on that he had just used her to get a promotion and she had ended up betraying her real family in the process. Regret gnawed at her, but she pushed it away, covering it with pride and anger, as she usually did.

“I was just hoping to have a family again!” she exclaimed angrily. “You wouldn’t understand. You always knew your father is a shitty person. I got told tales of his heroism and bravery all my life. I never met him but he was my hero. After my mother died, I was hoping he’d come to get me. And when he did, I…”

Niara looked at her. “You’re right; I don’t get how someone could betray their crew, their true family. Leaving us to be with a newly found parent, yeah, sure. That I could have gotten behind. But selling us out? We were your family, Gin. We laughed and cried and fought and partied together, shared adventures and fun and late night talks about our dreams and fears and hopes. How could you, Ginny?! How could you!? We trusted you - every one of us - HE TRUSTED YOU…”

It was very clear whom she was talking about. Both girls glared at each other.

“But here we are now, battling in this horrible arena for a chance at Ace’s legacy,” Niara concluded. She could see that Ginny had gone through a lot in the last few years. She would always resent her for what she did, but she wasn’t a cruel person. She did not wish Ginny more harm. She had done the right thing and changed sides in Marineford. Never again would Niara be her friend, but she could acknowledge the fact that Ginny might feel regret over her past decisions.

Ginny turned away. She didn’t like the way Niara looked at her. It made her feel angry and ashamed.

“I don't want your pity or your judgment,” she hissed. “Just let me fight. I'm not scared of you or anyone else."

The next match was announced. Ginny's heart raced. She knew she had to win. Winning meant facing Niara, someone who used to be her ally. Winning also meant facing a ton of devil fruit users and people who were more than twice her size. There was a actual giant out there. Niara was the smallest problem. She knew she could take her, even with her devil fruit. But some of those people out there… that would not be easy wins.

As the two stood facing each other, Niara spoke again.

“Are we really going to fight?” she asked. “Is this how you want our story to end?”

“Shut up, Niara!” Ginny yelled, her frustration boiling over. She didn’t want to feel guilty or remember the crew had sold out long ago. She wanted to get out of here, to be free, to have Ace’s fire powers and become a stronger fighter so she would never ever have to rely on others again.

Gatz shouted for the fight to start, and right away, the battle began. Ginny rushed in with strong blows and quick dodges, showing the skill she had built over years. The crowd cheered loudly, full of excitement. They didn’t cheer for her though and she did not want them to. Never again she wanted anyone’s approval.

As Ginny fought, she couldn't help but notice how different her fighting style was from Niara's. Niara moved gracefully through the attack, flowers blooming in her hands and vines wrapping around Ginny's arms, trying to hold her down. Ginny broke free immediately, her anger making her hit harder. But Niara stayed close, dodging her punches. All around them, fighters were battling each other. Which was a good thing, Niara thought. The big guns could take each other out that way. But once there weren’t that many fighters left, what then? Eventually there would come a point where neither of them could continue. Niara knew she would be out soon. Ginny was a strong fighter, she would last longer. But in the end, Luffy was their best bet to get to the end. Now, if only Ginny would see that… In working together, they could tackle bigger enemies. Enemies that Luffy would not have to worry about later on. But was this something Ginny would agree to? Right now, she rather looked like she wanted to smash Niara’s face into the nearest brick wall.

“I have a plan, Ginny, and I need you to listen. There’s more at stake than just us.”

“We’re on opposite sides, remember?” Ginny said. “I’m not letting you get to the end, Flower Girl.”

“I will not get to the end either way and you know it,” Niara replied, trying to wrap Ginny’s whole body in vines to stop her from being able to move. “I trained but I’m not made for these kinds of fights. You are, yes, but have you seen your competition? You can’t win this either, Ginny, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, you know you’re going down and you think I’m letting you drag me down with you!?” Ginny growled, ripping apart the vines with her bare hands. The girl had some serious strength going on. She certainly had trained a lot more in the past few years than Niara ever had.

“Whether you deserve it or not, I’d rather have you have the Mera Mera no Mi than those guys!” Niara cried, throwing herself on the ground and rolling away when someone attacked her from behind. Crap. They were already coming after them.

Ginny took one look at the guy going after Niara and sighed. It was very clear that all Niara could do here was dodge until she couldn’t dodge anymore. He wouldn’t be bothered by any of her powers. Ginny scanned the arena and looked at the people still fighting - powerhouses, all of them. Huge, all of them. Devil fruit users, some of them. Even if she made it through this round - the next one would be even more difficult. She didn’t like trusting Niara. She had vowed to herself to never let anyone in ever again. People had the nasty habit of disappointing her every time. And she had the sad habit of placing her trust in the wrong people and making wrong decisions.

“Just so you know, if you stab me in the back, I’ll kill you,” she said, pushing Niara out of her opponents way. He immediately went after her and stepped into someone else's path. Now those two were fighting.

“I won’t,” Niara replied, catching her breath. “I think Ace’s brother is our best bet to win this. But Luffy can’t eat the Mera Mera no Mi and neither can I. If I promise you to ask him to give it to you when he wins it, will you work with us?”

Niara didn’t know if she was making a mistake in trusting Ginny again. She also knew it was Luffy’s decision who he wanted to give the devil fruit to. Ginny might be all the way down his list or not on it at all. But Niara also knew that she herself wasn’t a fighter. But Ginny was. It would only be a matter of time until Niara would be taken out but Ginny could be Luffy’s ally all the way until one of the last rounds.

Ginny couldn’t answer because she was locked into a fight with a guy twice her size. But she was lighter and quicker and used this to her advantage. Niara herself was now using her vines to swing around and get away from people, dodging attacks and making opponents stumble. But as the battle continued, Ginny's anger started to fade a little, giving way to memories from the past. She recalled the laughter they shared on the Spade Pirates' ship. She recalled training with Ace and she even remembered spending time with Niara. They had never been best friends but they had gotten along just fine.

With a growl, Ginny rushed forward again, but this time, she was motivated by understanding rather than anger. Her attack slammed into Niara’s flower-based defenses, sending petals flying like snowflakes through the air, giving the others fighter the impression that they were busy fighting each other.

Niara made a spiral of plants that wrapped around Ginny's fists, stopping her mid air. "If you win and gain the Mera Mera no Mi, what will you do?” she asked. “What will you use your powers for?”

“I want to be strong and powerful so I’ll never have to be anyone’s slave again,” Ginny said. “And I never want to have to rely on anyone ever again.”

This was not the answer Niara had been hoping for. But she had no choice. And really, she couldn’t force Ginny to live a certain way. At least she would not be their enemy or use the firepower to aid the marines. And then -

“GINNY, WATCH OUT!!”

Without bothering to check, Ginny threw herself to the side. The long blade only touched her hair, sending most of it flying.

“FUCK!!” Ginny cried, jumping to her feet again. Her hair barely even touched her shoulders anymore. Not that it had looked that great after many months of being a prisoner and being forced to fight for Doflamingo’s entertainment, but still -

“Little girls should not play gladiator,” the guy with the blade said, showing them his ugly grin. He had more muscles than everything else and was missing his hair completely.

“The only one playing here is you!” Ginny cried, jumping at the chance to get back at him for cutting her hair - everything other than not having to think about the fact that she had let her guard down long enough for Niara to having to shout a warning to her. She did not need others, especially not Flower Girl Kaito Niara.

The guy suddenly put his hands to his mouth, paying no attention to Ginny. He was making weird noises and was grabbing his mouth, as if he wanted to rip his own tongue out.

“What now!?” Ginny asked impatiently.

“He’s choking,” Niara said.

“On what!?”

“Bunch of flowers…”

“Oh… I didn’t think you could do that?”

“I didn’t know I could do that either but it kind of worked…”

“You realize it’s killing him, right?”

“Yeah…” Niara sighed, biting her lips. She did not want to kill these people. At least not those who, like Ginny, were forced to fight by Doflamingo. To be honest, she would rather not kill anyone if it could be avoided. But playtime was over. She had volunteered to join Luffy in the Colosseum and now she had to do her part.

In a surprising moment, the reality of their situation sunk in. The old grudges lost their sting, and the anger between them began to fade, leaving more room for understanding.

“Let’s go,” Ginny said, dragging Niara away from the suffocating guy who was now spitting out flower petals. She did not tell her to remove the flowers or change them to smaller ones to give him more air. The harsh reality was, if he survived, he would be after them relentlessly.

“What now?” Niara asked, trying her best to tune out the noises of the guy they were leaving behind.

“Stay behind me and back me up with your vines,” Ginny ordered. “And once we’re done here, you bring me to your captain.”

As the roars of the crowd echoed in their ears, Ginny locked eyes with Niara, an unspoken understanding passing between them. They turned to face the attackers side by side. Niara rose her vines from the ground and let them wrap around their foes. Ginny was right next to her, punching and kicking. Niara's vines tangled and tripped the enemies, while Ginny struck with fast, precise blows. The strength of their combined powers was a force to be reckoned with and eventually, they both ended up as the winners for their respective blocks.

[ijustkindalikebooks]

You know, I hate stereotypes but as I look out my window and I see stereotypical British weather in the beginnings of Summer, you know this one is based in truth. Of course it's raining.

I have completed 42 books this month ( plus 4 DNFs) and have read novels, manga, poetry and essay collections to get to this point. I read mainly from women this month and predominantly fiction which is not unusual, but the numbers were so high this month.

I also had my highest amount of five star books this month as well, so this might be a bit of a long one.

I am also going to link four different gofundmes I am aware for people trying to get themselves and their families out of Gaza.

Dina - Lulu - Doaa - Jumana.

Blue Exorcist 14 and 15 by Kazue Kato - I really am deep into this series now. The end of the last arc was fantastic and this one involved some of my favourite characters and I really feel the strength of the team and class is really beginning to show now. I just really appreciate this series alot so far and I can't wait to keep reading more of it. The story of Rin who finds out he's the son of satan when his exorcist father figure is killed, Blue Exorcist is definitely a heck of a series so far as they fight demons and break curses.

I Who Have Never Known Men by Jacqueline Harpman - I've read this month so many books that have demanded to seen, heard and felt and this is definitely one of those books. The story of a young girl who grows up with a group of women who finally escape the confines of a cell they were trapped in, this book tells the story of her exploration of the world she now inhabits. Gloriously written and packing an emotional punch that will leave you breathless for days, I'd recommend this book to everyone.

Sketchy Vol 1 by Makihorichi - I am not going to dwell on this long as I have a whole review on this blog for it, but I highly recommend this manga about a woman who gets into skateboarding and begins to find new friends and create a new life for herself.

Mansfield Park by Jane Austen - I've been reading alot of classics and honestly very few have got five stars, actually few have even got four, but Mansfield Park is just so good. How Austen writes people is way ahead of her time, she is fantastic at creating people you love, you hate, you feel for and this book is no exception (even if the awful man in this book seems to come from my home county smh). The story of Fanny Price, a young but poor girl who is sent to live with rich family, she navigate, love, life, loneliness and envy, it is a classic for a a reason.

Homebody by Theo Parrish - I was lucky enough to see them discuss this book at my local Waterstones and was able to get a signed copy of this fantastic graphic novel. The story of Theo as they figure out their identity and find the gender they feel at home with, Homebody is a beautifully drawn and fantastically written story of figuring out who you are. I loved this so much and highly recommend it.

Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan - Keegan is at the height of her talent right now and it's short stories like these? Novellas? That make that so abundantly clear. A beautifully told story about a man learning where the power lies in his Irish village (with the church in this case) it touches on the Magdalene Laundries and the impact they had on women and the places they were based in. A tale of quite hope and heroism, this book is a gem.

The Facemaker by Lindsey Fitzharris - I will say from the top if you are not comfortable with explicit examples of wounds or surgery, this is not something I'd recommend, there is a lot of detail that goes into how these men got their wounds in world war one and I took several breaks to read this book. However this doesn't change just how well written this book is and the depth this has gone to research Doctor Gillies who basically invested plastic and reconstructive surgery for men who were burnt, scarred and hurt in the trenches and the impact of his work that is still seen today. The story of a pioneer in 250 pages, it's a piece of history that doesn't get heard about.

What were your favourite books of May? Please let me know!

Vee xo

[avictimofthejazz]

“You’re not what I was expecting.” (Belle x Pat)

There are a lot of ways Patrick might interpret that sentence from the gorgeous brunette, and most of them are not nearly as flattering as they might be. He knows he is not exactly a top line catch. Most women want doctors or lawyers, men who can promise high-end futures for them. A soldier who has spent almost half his adult life in combat zones, who has finally returned to his home village is not exactly the guy women queue up for. Now if he had had a few major promotions under his belt, a dozen commendation medals, or maybe some acknowledgement from the government for matchless heroism… well maybe then women might be more willing to overlook the scars, and vacant stare he gets sometimes. While he has two medals, when one of them is for being wounded in the line of duty, that just tells the women in his village that he has injuries that might be unattractive. Despite everything leaning against him, the village matchmaker assured Viona that she would be able to find a wife for the oldest Michaels son. Apparently, the matchmaker had been right because now he is meeting the woman everyone in town expects him to marry. Belle did not grown up in his village—she and her father moved in after he joined the military. All he has heard so far are the rumors about Belle—that her father is the town loon, and she is beautiful but eccentric.  Still… his parents approved of this match. That means something else has to be going on here. They would never allow him to marry a complete lunatic, and bring her into the family.

Patrick finally finds his voice to address Belle’s greeting. Pulling up a grin he is not entirely feeling, he tilts his head enough to hide the scar on his face. “Oh? You weren’t expecting someone so devilishly handsome? Or were you expecting that meathead, Gaston so now you’re disappointed?”

[ofdetonation]

@varicrux inquired : mina's just going to spend countless minutes tracing katsuki's scars on his arms & hands. expression gentle , quizzical , & soft. ' -- you're like a roadmap of battles & victories , ain't'cha? ' ╱ unprompted.

battle after battle, the scars accumulated. katsuki hasn't let them bother him since obtaining any of them ⸺ they were just a reminder of the fights he had to fight, the events of his life carved indiscriminately into fair skin, some ragged and raised and taut. if people were to ask about them when his sleeves are rolled up, he speaks of them in a clean, medical manner ╱ obtained because of his right arm being shattered, requiring intervention and proper surgery. or if it was the lightning scars ; those were an exposure to weather events, called upon while they were on nabu island. they were just a part of his path to heroism.

but mina refers to those same scars as a roadmap ; suddenly, they weren't just events he would gloss over, medically described in sterile words. they were a retelling of every event he survived. they stand to remind him that each battle he ventured into might have left a mark on clear skin, but he persevered through them anyway, unyielding even when he should have yielded. they taunt and torment as much as they bring him peace ╱ he won the battles, survived the wars.

soft and slender rose fingers graze over the blond's scars, gentle and tender, her gaze gentle and observant. katsuki's breath hitches as she traces across jagged scars along the palm of his hand. scarlet gaze, once harsh and stern, softens a fraction while the sharpened knitting of his brows relax, the tension in his shoulders melting away the more time she spends contemplating their presence. he almost can't find the words. she is admiring such a recent history and seeing them as more than just another mark on skin ; a mosaic of his victories.

❝ ... guess so. ❞ katsuki doesn't tug away his arm, only glancing up to catch black sclera and golden irises. ❝ 's what happens over time. ❞

a pause. eventually, crimson falls back on the scars scattering his hands and arms.

❝ what's catchin' your interest this time ? ❞ katsuki reaches with his free hand to rest over hers, palm calloused but comfortably warm to the touch. ❝ somethin' you wanna know ? i can tell you my point of view behind 'em. ❞

[everysongineverykey]

I posted 5,679 times in 2022

1,712 posts created (30%)

3,967 posts reblogged (70%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@wrightfamily

@jonathanrook

@you-can-always-come-home

@lieutenant-columbro

@neitherlightnordark

I tagged 4,490 of my posts in 2022

Only 21% of my posts had no tags

#deltarune - 260 posts

#dhmis - 147 posts

#don't hug me i'm scared - 114 posts

#the stanley parable - 113 posts

#undertale - 53 posts

#oh... - 38 posts

#star trek ds9 - 36 posts

#💙 - 34 posts

#snowgrave - 34 posts

#donations - 32 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#who. wh. whooogohorowhwhwogoohowooebo💖💖❤💖💚💜💚💜💙💜💜💚💜❤💘💚💕💛💕💙💜💙💜💞💞💕💝💗💕💙💙💜💞💞💜💜💗💙💞💕❤💞💙💜💞💞💖💙💙💖💙💕

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

in a world where so much queer rep in big media is overly sanitized and watered down to the point where it's respectful but terribly boring as character writing due to writers being terrified of getting criticized for "bad queer rep", toby fox making a trans man who's a self-obsessed, fame-drunk, vainglorious trashy pop star (and also a tyrant in the king mettaton ending), a bi character who straight up accidentally turned a bunch of monsters into horrifying melty abominations and then locked them in her basement and didn't tell anyone about it for literal years before she learned that hiding from her mistakes was killing her and came clean, a lesbian who starts the game as an intimidating school bully and in whose first big moment we see her slam the main character against a wall and threaten to eat their face before she learns to open up and connect with and trust others, a trans woman who tries to kill you twice in the game and is always delightfully mean to everyone until she gets some understanding and the body she needs to be happy, a traumatized nonbinary kid who hated their own species so much they killed themself just to get their revenge and free monsters in death, and a nonbinary cat who has been through so much shit and is so nihilistic that at this point, if push came to shove and all looked lost for the heroes, they would be content to sit back and let the world end- i'm being totally serious. toby fox making those kinds of queer characters, making them messy and imperfect and scarred and letting them grow as people but still do terrible things as part of that process, that constitutes HEROISM

3,213 notes - Posted June 27, 2022

#4

HELP???

3,622 notes - Posted January 6, 2022

#3

kris dreemurr is so awesome. the protagonist ever. they eat moss. their best friends are a purple dragon lesbian and a goat with glasses. they do speedruns. they have their very own knife that belongs to them that everyone recognizes as kris' knife. they ripped out their soul and locked it in a cage and went all red-eyes-looking-at-the-camera-with-a-knife and then did literally nothing but eat an entire pie. they eat entire pies on a regular basis. they eat dog treats and lick book pages. they make their own bath bombs just to throw them in the toilet. they slashed their mum's car tires. they're even nonbinary

5,353 notes - Posted January 16, 2022

#2

dhmis is great because imagine a series centered around three roommates living in a small incredibly isolated house in a story run by a strange omnipotent woman with unclear motivations who amuses herself by tormenting the roommates over and over again in various awful ways by dangling something new and exciting in front of their faces and then making it backfire horribly thus traumatizing them all and often maiming and killing them and they can't escape because they're nothing but puppets in her little show and they're chained to a narrative that will not let them go and one roommate is a naive kid with a sadistic father who traumatizes him horribly when he isn't neglecting him and also eats people and another roommate is almost aware of his situation but will never be able to save himself or his friends and is constantly rejected by his own kind and only wants to leave the tiny house but nothing, no one, will play along and the third roommate is caught in the middle, not a naive child but not quite meta aware, and thus is doomed to fall victim to the same traps over and over and also they're literally the only three people in their entire world besides the evil things that keep intruding in their home and terrorizing them and they can't call for help. ok and now imagine they look like this

6,077 notes - Posted September 29, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

if i were toby fox i would tweet "so honoured that megalovania was played in front of the pope yesterday! especially since i've always thought of sans as catholic" and then turn off my phone

32,323 notes - Posted January 6, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[wildstar25]

2, 4, 16

question list

2. How did they learn to fight? Have they learned other martial or magical arts since then?

Arsay's first fighting skill was arcanist magic! Her caretaker, Emrara emra, was a retired adventurer who had specialized in healing magic. The bookcases of Arsay's home were lined with old grimoires and codex from Emrara's travels, and she would often sneak one or two out of the house to try and figure out what all the shapes and lines were meant to do. By the time Emrara figured out her kid was practicing magic, little Arsay had managed to figure out summoning the carbuncle familiar by "thinking of fun shapes!". Any attempt to teach Arsay the actual geometry behind the magic led to the most messed up carbuncle known to man. I'm talking full on mess of polygons you'd see in a corrupted game. Frustrated, Emrara resigns to let Arsay practice magic however she can; and begins to pen a letter to her old guild stationed in Limsa Lominsa. Maybe in-practice Arcanists might be able to teach her. That said she instantly found herself in the rogues guild upon arriving at limsa. She learned all her rogue skills from Jacke! She picked up surprisingly quickly too. Granted she's used a knife before, its pretty standard to have one on your if you sail at all. But dual wielding is a different story! She's always been spry and light on her feet, so that might of given her a leg up! This then of course led her to meeting oboro and learning ninjustu from him.

Arsay did of course go back to the arcane, and even learned the ancient Allagan art of summoning with the help of Y'mhitra! since ushering in the seventh astral era, she's tried out a few other types of fighting techniques but not much has stuck. Most of what she learned came from her traveling companions. She demanded Estinien to teach her how to use a lance as they traveled through Coerthas and Dravania. As well, she had gotten Lyse to give her some tips with hand to hand combat as they travels through Orthard.

She's also picked up astrology and machinistry (would they call it gunnery?? not sure) while she was running about Ishgard but those are just hobbies for her!

4.Are they the kind to ask first or stab first? Was there a time they really should have picked the other option?

Definitely ask first! She'd feel terrible if she hurt someone who wasn't being actively malicious! Plus as a scion she's always interacting with high ranking figures from other nations... the last thing she wants to do is cause a political event.

The only time that she wishes she had done otherwise was on Baelsar's wall. Had she simply gone for the throat right away instead of letting Ilberd monologue and enact his summoning.... well she felt like she had let everyone else down in that moment.

16. Tell us about the two major events from MSQ that left the deepest emotional scars on your WoL.

Heavensward and Shadowbringers 5.0 -> 5.3 spoilers under the cut!

The first that comes to mind would be the the vault!

While she could easily deny the possibility that her scion friends didn’t make it out of the tunnels in ul’dah; she couldn’t will away what happened to Haurchefant right before her eyes. A dear friend died to keep her safe. She felt terrible, and so very guilty. She’s no stranger to death at the point in her career but this is really when it hits her just how much she has to lose. This is when the cork pops on that bottle of grief she had put on her mental shelf. If he could die so could have the others. All of them, all her friends, could be dead so she could keep fighting another day. The pain and heartache she had that evening was like nothing she'd ever felt before. From then on she swore to do anything she could to make herself feel worthy of the life she’s been granted through their sacrifice and heroism.

This also became the point where Arsay started being much more clingy with her friends. Fully aware any day together could be their last, she refuses to let a single opportunity to let her friends know how much she loves them go by! As well, Arsay decided she'd smile twice as wide whenever she can; her way of honouring her fallen friend.

---

The second moment is a tie between what happens in the final chamber of pyramid temple and the right after the seat of sacrifice

What can I even say about them other than wow Arsay's poor, big ol' heart sure got sent to the meat grinder in shadowbringers. I mean watching Y'shtola fall to the mysterious voice in the source had already given her enough heart ache, now she had to see her fall into a dark pit (presumably to her doom) too?? This was so very cruel!! THEN she had to see her bf get crystalized! turned into a statue!! AND there was a chance that the memory transference wouldn't even work for him specifically! She was literally so devastated about both events as they took place. It doesn't matter if they are fine now, the faces of her loved ones in those "final" moments are absolutely burned into her brain forever.

[faneposting-my-beloved]

I don't speak about Elane a lot, mostly because I don't think people find my ocs all that interesting but on the off chance that someone is indeed interested, I really want to talk about the inspirations that really kickstarted her origin.

Warning: slight spoilers for my fanfic, houseki no kuni, ancient magus bride To begin with, I started my first-ever run with Elane with the 'Leech' talent. It heals you a small percent when you stand/go through puddles of blood. Obviously, I picked it solely because cool, but then I started asking myself - what caused this/made her be like that? as the purebred historian that I am. (The answer I came up with is naturally careful worldbuilding worth a 500-page novel)

There were few moments where she would hold on in battle solely because of this perk - and my boyfriend joked that she can't die as long as she bleeds. That joke stuck with me, hard.

As you could've picked up from reading Song of Infinity or looking at my bizarre artworks - Elane's wounds heal as they bleed. That makes her 'suffer' from a very odd kind of immortality. A continuous cycle that I often contrast with Fane's eternal stasis. If Fane's existence is impervious to time, hers is impervious to action.

Infinite kind of immortality, if you will.

With Elane, I'm asking and answering questions I that regarded most of the inspirations for her character.

How much of yourself can you lose and still be you?

Characters from Houseki no Kuni are Gems. Just like the real thing, they have a certain durability and can be melded into alloys and such. The protagonist of the series Phos -Phosphophyllite - is among the brittler ones, and over the course of the story (thanks to their clumsy and active character) loses parts of their original body. Those get replaced with many others - up to a point where Phos is not Phosphophyllite, not even in the slight majority.

As Elane can loses and regrows any part of her body - it does raise a similar concern. If the flesh she fled Fort Joy with is not the same flesh that made it to Arx - where is 'herself' truly contained? This is why Elane values things bound to herself like clothes or accessories more than she does her body - things that can define her or she can define, using them as an anchor for her personality and thoughts to cling to while everything within her is ever-shifting.

Being immortal while you still suffer from pain, disease and hunger - is it worth it? What toll does it take?

Cartaphilus - the wandering Jew - introduced to me through the lenses of the Ancient Magus Bride. The original legend speaks of a Jew who taunted Jesus on the way to the Crucifixion and for doing so was cursed to walk the Earth until the Second Coming.

In the anime, Carthaphilus indeed does wander, with its body failing him because of the passage of time, and damage over time. Illnesses, the fault of flesh. He is then fused with an innocent soul who wanted to help this suffering stranger - and the vicious cycle starts anew, driving the new host mad.

Similarly in Elane's cause, the body and psyche are interconnected - but ultimately function differently. Elane's tragedy revolves around all her suffering over the ages having no basis in reality - no scar or weariness remain from any harm that happened to her. But she clearly remembers what has happened - but then again, does she? This dichotomy is a breeding ground for mental issues, and this is barely the tip of the iceberg.

What do you become when there's no consequence of death for your decisions?

Still relating to Cartaphilus/Joseph and partially to - unexpectedly, I'm sure - Deadpool. Common sense keeps most people in check from doing daring or outright idiotic things, but it is not the case for those who can jump into a tree chipper and come out the other side to tell how the ride has been. Sacrificing oneself for others becomes trivial - an inconvenience at worst. There is surprisingly a very faint line dividing heroism from lawlessness, never mind all the flavours of god syndrome that kick in.

Elane still is in the hero phase - but it quickly becomes less and less attractive to put herself in harm's way over and over and pay for it in pain she didn't truly deserve.

Immortal characters are one hell of a drug to my brain, I love treading the line between humanity and total cosmic alienness, and happily dip my ankles into the other. In all honesty, I modelled Elane as a counterweight to Fane's eternity. He takes it as a given and the correct way of being, she considers it an illness - a curse to dream about getting rid of. And now to see them clash- I really hope I can do this concept justice.

[thedennysmanager]

Arana. 3. 5. 6. 9. 11. 16. 22. 25. 31. 34. 36. 38. 39. 45. 50. 57. 61. 67.

I just answered 5, 16, 22, and 38 for Arana in the last ask post (sorry its taking a while to get through these I am busy hyperfixating) so I will answer all the others. Thank you for the ask about the prime blorbo.

3: What is their goal right now?

Arana is currently trapped within her own body as her demon Maeyir is in control and running the show. So her main priority is to escape the mind prison and take control of her body.

6: Which party member do they relate to the most?

Of everyone, she relates to Cuk the most because 1: they both have a demon in their brain in the same way, and 2: they have ruined their intimate relationships through their own behavior. Arana has a soft spot for Cuk and will probably listen to him whenever he needs to open up but she is very bad at giving life advice.

9: Do they care about their appearance? How much effort do they put into presentation?

Arana cannot leave her home or be seen by anyone until she thinks that she looks perfect. Arana does this because she has a lot of scars from iron wounds (iron poisons and permanently damages fey in my world), and because she needs to be the center of attention at all times.

11: What skills are they proficient in? Why?

In terms of dnd skills she is proficient in:

Acrobatics (because she likes to be active and it helps with other extracurricular activities especially the more adventurous extensions of them); Animal Handling (natural fey skill); Arcana (from her studies of magic and creation); Deception (because fey need to get crafty since they can't outright lie); History (Because she is very well read); Insight (political shenanigans, and innate vibe detector); Intimidation (because she needs to make it absolutely clear not to fuck with her plans); Nature (natural fey skill); Perception (trauma response); Performance (from her love of singing and dancing); Persuasion (natural fey charm); and Sleight of Hand (extracurricular activities that require specific hand motions).

Outside of skill proficiencies, she is excellent at sculpting, painting, arcane practices and is a competent artificer.

25: What stories do they like to tell? What stories do they like to hear?

The main stories she likes to tell other people are fantastical tragedies and epics of heroism which are actually just regular things that happened in the feywild all the time. Might be typical for a fey, but Arana loves to hear fairy tales both the morbid ones and the ones with knights and princesses. (she also likes reading smut)

31: They're given a blank piece of paper - what do they do with it?

Within a few minutes the page is filled with a mixture of illustrations, paintings and scribbled schematics for magic items. She loves to create and always has an abundance of ideas.

34: Which party member do they go to in a crisis?

Depends on the type of crisis, for serious problems, she will go to Vesryn as she is her girlfriend, and generally the most competent and reliable party member. For emotional problems or if she did something evil she would go to Cuk or Sweg because she can count on them to be less judgemental and also Vesryn has the emotional range of a rock.

36: What's a secret they've kept?

The biggest secret she has kept is that she has a secret 4-legged arthropod-like form which she hates but is technically her true form.

39: Are their hands calloused, soft, or something else entirely?

Arana has very smooth and soft hands as she has a 200 step skin routine.

45: How do they hug people?

She gives big bear hugs to everyone and squeezes as hard as she can. If its someone who she is close with she hugs by literally jumping onto them and clinging on with all her might.

50: Can they sing? Can they dance?

Arana can both sing and dance very well but she refrains from doing it often with mortals as fey dances and song are magical spells that can distort time and trap people for days.

57: What makes them angry?

This is a woman who is sent into a rage at the slightest inconvenience. What really gets her into a fit of rage though is people insulting her or her companions and disrespecting the authority of hosts (big fey taboo). Lying also makes her furious (very big fey crime). Disrespect or lying is also legal justification in the feywilds to maim and murder so be careful around her.

61: What kind of flower would they chose to pick from a meadow?

Arana loves brightly colored or patterned flowers especially pink ones. However, she would try to pick out at least one of every kind of flower to assemble into a bouquet as that was something her ex-husband used to do for her.

67: What makes them laugh?

The wholesome answer is when people embarrass themselves trying to impress their partners (she adores cheesy romantic gestures). The less wholesome answer is blood and violence. It brings her joy to see people injured and killed especially when she is doing the injuring and killing.

[red-and-eclipses-aphmau-rewrite]

A Question of Identity: A Post-Season 6 Aphira Shalashaka Character Study

“Are you sure you want to do this? There will be a cost. There is always a cost.”

“I know. I’m sure of this. Is everyone else?”

The other three people floating in the strange white void nod, and the woman who looks too much like me reaches out a hand. I take it.

Then, there is nothing but the anger and rage of a pained god.

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I sit, now, in a wheelchair, horrible pain wracking my body from every tiny movement. I know why this happened. There was a cost. There is always a cost.

They have their best healers looking at me constantly. They are confused. Of course they are. They know nothing of the prices I paid to do what I did.

I knew nothing of the prices I would pay to do what I did.

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"Aphira, you need to listen to me. This isn't you. You don't want to hurt him, do you? Please tell me you don't want to hurt anyone."

"I want this, Lady. I have to want this, otherwise why would I be doing it?"

"Did you want to kill Aaron? Or was that only the potion?"

I don't remember any more.

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I wish I could run, these days. Far away from the past that haunts me. Far away from the memories that consume me, from the burning hate that isn't mine.

I miss Aaron. I miss Katelyn, and Lucinda, and Garroth, and Laurence. I miss so many people.

I may never see them again. I won't, unless I get this strangeness under control. Unless I stop waking up from nightmares, eyes full white from whatever power still rests within my broken body.

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I stand in this strange place, now alone with this strange Lady. Why am I here, when my friends are fighting and breaking without me?

"Aphira, you have to listen to me. You have to keep them safe. I gave you this power for a reason. It's time you understand what we are."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you ever wonder where your dreams come from? Where this strange knowledge of a past you couldn't have known about comes from? We're the same, Aphira. You have to understand."

"But I don't want to be this!"

"You have no choice. Or perhaps, you did, once. But we both made our choices. In very different ways, but you did choose to take this power. It's a part of you, now. Remember, though. There's a price to this."

I speak at the same time as her, then.

"There's always a price."

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Here I am, now, paying the price of my stupid heroism. I am nothing, now. Shattered and permanently changed. The scars on my back the perfect example.

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"What's happening?!"

"He's going for our wings, Aph!"

"Where have you been?!"

"Talking with... someone."

How could I explain the conversation I just had? How could I explain the fear, the sorrow?

Then, there is only pain, as our wings are sliced off of our back. As my wings are sliced off of my back.

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There's a knock on the door. Toby. He's nice enough, tells me what's going on with my friends while I recover.

"We've come to a decision." He sits on the bed, next to me.

"About?"

"Your... situation. It's been decided that you'll recover quicker if you're sent to stay with your friends. Of course, there are some things that will be important to this."

"What are they?"

"A contingency of the Guardian Forces will be in the neighborhood at all times, ensuring that none of you are attacked for what you are."

"Does this mean you're sending Travis home too?"

"Regrettably, no. He requested to recover further from his possession before being reunited with the others."

"Well, at least I'll have something other than memories of what happened to keep me company."

"That'll be good for you, Aphira."

"Yes. Yes it will."

He has no idea how good it will be to not be alone anymore. To not be haunted by the Lady who says that this was her mistake as much as mine.

To be free of the reminders of my death.