#go make someone else attached and ruin their emotions . find someone else thats as easy to manipulate as i am

[netbug009]

thanks for taking it seriously. tbh you talked about how you cared more about the final product even if the creator had questionable morals than who participated in it which made me suspicious. later you talked about how we should hold ben schwartz accountable for music and it felt like you only cared about stopping the support of people or content that only affected yourself. im glad thats not true and that your change is not superficial and am happy for you.

TBH you kinda read my mind of late. The whole situation with Music has been making me think a lot about that kind of thing. On one hand, I’m not sure that’s a 1:1 comparison, because even if you separate Music from its creator, Music itself remains a deeply ableist and bigoted work. I don’t think Music counts as a death-of-the-author issue the way reblogging a benign work from someone without benign views does. On the other hand, for me personally, Sia being ableist definitely ruined all of Sia’s work for me. I will not be able to enjoy her contributions to things I like, such as MLP and Finding Dory, the same way I used to. I’ll probably roll my eyes when her songs come up when I rewatch those films. I won’t pretend it didn’t impact my view and enjoyment of the work she’s in, and it would indeed make me a hypocrite to claim nobody else has the right to feel that way when they find out someone who created or contributed to a work is spreading harmful views.  That said, the way people interact with work is complex. I remain a fan of Danny Phantom despite Butch Hartman’s myriad of concerning views, including the classic “mental illness can be prayed away and is a sign of lack of faith” nonsense that has hurt me personally. I likewise see a lot of LGBT fans taking DP back, because those characters still mean a lot to them and they enjoy the work outside of what Hartman has to say about it. I also see trans Harry Potter fans choosing to distance that work from its creator as well as opposed to shunning it all together, and I don’t think it’s my place to shame them for that. That said, I ALSO don’t think it’s my place to tell people who go “Oh, I can’t enjoy this thing anymore, because of the views of its creator” that they’re overreacting.  Does acknowledging all of that make me a hypocrite for going so hard on Sia? Maybe. I try not to be. That’s kinda why I stressed that I’m upset with people supporting the film and its album specifically, despite the fact that I personally have no intention of supporting ANYTHING Sia makes in the future unless she backs up her recent apologies with actions (so far, it seems she lied about the actions she claimed she was going to take, so... keep digging that hole, Sia.) I’m also in the spot of formerly being a pretty bigoted person, and having people who chose to support my benign work despite it, and... while I can’t say this will always be the case, that gave me the opportunity to interact with a lot of people who made me question and ultimately change my views. I firmly believe that kindness when I might have not deserved it helped set me on the right path better than any amount of anger towards me did. So that’s another element that leaves me a bit conflicted on how to handle things like this. Maybe I was treated with more kindness than I deserved, and I certainly don’t blame anybody who chose to distance themselves from me completely, but I don’t think I would have ever broken out of the harmful mindset I was raised around without that, either. What one person may see as rewarding a bigot, another may see as rewarding someone for keeping bigotry out of what they create, creating a stark contrast between the success of something wholesome and something harmful. Sometimes I flip flop between those solutions myself.  I’m still learning, still trying to understand, still working to be accountable to my own feelings and the feelings of others. I’m still thinking about a lot of these things - I think online, we’re expected to be able to pull a very final and firm statement about what we believe out of a hat at any moment, and I’m not sure that’s always a good thing? Especially on something like this, which I think has more nuance than most people give it credit for, and most people make exceptions to their own rules about?  But I guess the one thing I’m sure of is I’m not going to assume that someone enjoying a work means they agree with its creator's views, and I hope people will give me that same understanding. I think the way a person connects to a work is deeply personal and may not always be consistent. Even if I can personally no longer enjoy anything Sia puts out because it’ll be attached to memories of “The Music Incident” I’m not going to assume anybody who streams Chandelier is an ableist bigot who doesn’t care about autistic people, even if in my anger and hurt that’s an easy kneejerk reaction to feel like jumping to. TBH, maybe saying Ben shouldn’t be allowed to work on other, benign things until he apologizes was a hurt, hypocritical kneejerk on my part. Maybe what I’m really upset about is the general lack of outrage about this film, because it’s just another sign of how little people tend to care about autistic people, and I’m desperately trying to find someone to “pay” for it. Maybe I just want that sweet, sweet validation of someone with a large platform standing up and saying “this is wrong, actually.” It’s a complex issue and one I’m very emotional about, which clouds my judgement, but... My goal when talking about Death of the Author isn’t to dismiss the hurt of people who feel a creator’s views have harmed them - it’s to help fans take back the good things in a work they love. I hope people get that and assume the best of me, even if I seem to be contradicting myself, even if I flat out DO contradict myself in anger and hurt. I’m far from a perfect person. Fandom is deeply important to me, it’s a major part of my life and often something I find beautiful, and at the end of the day I want what’s best for the people in it.  I wish I had a simpler answer for you, anon. 

[the-everlasting-dream]

The Easiest Thing In The World - Dallas x MC

Summary: Dallas has been through some hard stuff and what shouldn’t be, suddenly becomes the easiest thing in the world. 

A/N: Idk what compelled me to write this but I felt i had to after the latest chapter of BSC. I dont even like cowboy stuff so I have no idea where all of this came from. No one asked but idc this had to be done. 

Word Count: 2200 (this was supposed to be 500 words!)

Warnings: None. 

Tags: @choicessa , @meeraaverywalker , @drakewalkerwhipped , @quartzandarrow ,  @mfackenthal , @srawesleyghuewrites , @topsyturvy-dream , @enmchoices , @gardeningourmet @debramcg1106 , @alesana45 , @meladoridarcy, @blackcatkita , @tmarie82 , @annekebbphotography , @lizk77 , @jayjay879 , @tornbetween2loves , @akrenich , @theroyalweisme , @likethetailofacomet , @sleepwalkingelite , @littleblossom-18 , @ooo-barff-ooo

Running takes a lot of guts, a ton of fear and a dash of luck to be exact. 

 Dallas James knew that well. 

 Leaving hadn’t been easy. Leaving his mama, his friends, his whole life back in Tulsa and everything he knew because some jackass with attachment issues didn’t know when to quit. He’d been happy with Alex. They had that good old fashioned romance that played on Grandpa Wilbur’s worn out records that'd play on the brass gramophone when he'd coax to life every Saturday afternoon as he’d sit on the front porch watching the kids play jump rope. Alex was a good girl, pretty too, with that kind of smile that just warmed you up from the inside every time she looked at you. Dallas thought he was gonna marry her, he did. Heck he would have married her and by now they’d have given his mama at least two grand babies to chase round the house for bath time.

Dallas was a God-fearing man, like his mama had drilled into him since he’d been in diapers. But he couldn’t understand for the life of him, why God put men like Leeroy Davis on this earth. With a permanent sneer on his face and a shiny Glock glued from his belt, the star quarterback strutted around like he owned the place, doing whatever he wanted to whoever he wanted with a bunch of cronies worshipping the ground he walked on. That’s what you get when your daddy was the head council man and owned half the businesses in town. 

Dallas couldn’t imagine how someone as sweet as Alex could have ever been with a jerk like that. He’d asked her once and she admitted she thought she saw something different that no one else did and she was determined he could change, determined to prove everyone wrong and show them that there was a good side to Leeroy Davis. Alex’s heart was always too big for her own good and thats blinded her to Leeroy's emotional manipulation. They’d been over for almost a year before Dallas had worked up the courage to ask her out and she’d agreed to see a movie with him at their local community theatre. He remembered neither hide nor hair of that film, he’d spent the whole time watching Alex instead, fascinated by how keenly she felt everything and how openly it showed on her face. By the time the credits were over, he knew he was smitten and by some miracle, she agreed to a second date and a third and a fourth. 

He remembered the last time he’d seen her, dark hair tangled by the wind, tears pouring down those rose cheeks of hers, big eyes urging him to go, to take the best shot at escaping Leeroy and the jail sentence he’d placed over his head, while simultaneously she also pleaded with him to stay. She held his sobbing mama close, silently promising she’d take care of her and that last image, a final look thrown over his shoulder haunted him every day he was away.

Leaving sure as hell wasn’t easy but life on the run hadn’t been easier. He learned keep his mouth shut, not to ask questions and take work where he could find it. Doing odd jobs for almost no pay, picking up slack where they needed him to, he was never in one place long enough to get attached. Each place he’d been, he’d been treated with caution, kept at arms length, never trusted with anything other than manual labour. He was a black man in Midwestern America, it was nothing he wasn’t used to but that didn’t make it any easier. It wasn’t easy but he managed. 

By the time he’d worked his way up to Montana, he’d been in more places that he could have counted and it was only by some miracle that the Oakleys had taken him on as a desperately needed farm hand. They were more than happy to take on someone who would work for the meagre rate they were offering. Dallas didn’t mind, work was work and as long as he had a roof over his head and something in his belly at night, it was enough. Cliff and his boys didn’t ask about his past and Dallas didn’t share. It worked that way and for a few months he was content. Not happy, just content. Sawyer was nice enough, Duke was tolerable, Cliff was, well, Cliff but together they had a lot of heart, something he’d missed since Tulsa. In the back of his mind, he knew he’d have to leave soon and it was the most sorry he’d been to leave. He’d been on the run from a past that would eventually catch up to him. He also knew that the further he ran, the sooner he’d run out of places to run to. 

In fact, he'd been gearing himself up to break the news to Cliff that he was leaving when Jo went over to the Mendozas and he found himself needed more than anything. Sure Sawyer knew the farm like the back of his hand, Curly could handle the mechanics even Duke could hold his own with the herd with Cliff there to oversee everything but Dallas knew that losing him would be a huge blow to the Oakleys. He couldn’t in good conscience leave like that. Even with that city slicker, Dominique, whom Sawyer had picked off the side of the road, helping out, it still wouldn’t be enough. 

Dominique was something else however. When he’d first rescued her from trampling Bessie, Dallas had given her two days before she was out of there, screaming for sparkling water, ducted air conditioning and a toilet that flushed without you thumping on it a few times. With a name as pretentious as that, he’d dismissed her immediately, being quite rude, almost hoping to put her off but she’d pushed back. She’d proved him wrong over and over through stubborn persistence or sheer volume of luck, he couldn’t quite comprehend how but there was no denying that the perfumed manicured city girl had cleaned out cow pads next to him, despite the risk of getting hay in her perfectly dyed brown blonde ombre locks. She hiked the Lonely Pine Trail — a hike not known for its easiness —  with them all as per Cliff’s request without a single complaint. Wherever she was from, they were certainly made of harder stuff than he’d first assumed. Dallas had glanced over at her, taking in the lush scenery and the look of wonder on her face almost brought a smile to his own.

Smiling never came as easily as it did since Alex anymore. More important things like looking over his shoulder, avoiding the cops, landing a stable enough job had taken priority but he’d found his lips curving up more times in these last few days since he’d left Tulsa. There was something about her, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but she radiated a hopefulness that he hadn’t felt since Alex. For so long he’d abandoned any thought of a future other than one on the run that he’d failed to see the possibility that existed in the spaces in between. Dominique brought a fresh perspective to everything, a different mindset and viewpoint than the rest of them and perhaps it was part of her charm but Dallas caught himself looking forward to seeing her around. 

It was when they had made camp for the night and everyone was laughing at Juliette’s latest antics that Dallas realised how easy this suddenly felt. He watched as Broolynne frantically waved the flaming marshmallow she’d been roasting while Asha’s brother Miles scurried to prepare another one for her as Duke and Sawyer watched on in interest, half listening to Juliette’s ramblings. Dominique was listening with rapt attention, her every emotion playing out on her face and he almost smiled at the sight. For a moment, there was no weight of a potential jail sentence hanging over his head, no risk of being discovered just a few friends hanging out around the campfire at night. 

That’s when it hit him. This wasn’t a permanent reality. Leeroy Davis was still hackling for his head out there, his poor mama probably worried sick that he hadn’t written in ages and Alex… he didn’t know what to think about Alex… 

Not wanting to ruin the mood with the scowl on his face, he’d slipped off for a walk to try clear his head before realising he’d been followed. 

 Dominique. 

 Dallas wasn’t surprised that she’d come after him, she seemed to be great at reading people, far better than he ever would be. He was surprised however at how easily they fell into step together, walking quietly, the only sound being the leaves and twigs crackling gently underfoot. He tried to keep his thoughts on track, his current rumination being how soon he could move on from Oakley ranch after surpassing his usual five month timeframe. Cliff’s condition and the financial situation hung in the balance leaving a great many factors unaccounted fo-

Dominique’s hand had slipped into his at that point, derailing his train of thought, bringing him back to the present. 

 ‘You okay?’ 

After she’d hesitantly affirmed it, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze to reassure her. Not long later, they reached a small cliff over looking a huge lake lined with trees silhouetted against the brilliance of the night sky. The last light of day could be seen peaking over the horizon and above them, a crescent moon hung amid the glittering stars, spilling soft light onto the water below. 

 ‘Its so beautiful,’ Dominique breathed as they took a seat, legs dangling over the precipice as they looked out at the scene. 

 ‘Yeah…,’ he agreed, his eyes on her and the way the moonlight reflected off her dark hair. ‘Beautiful.’ 

 She glanced over, blushing when she realised he was already looking at her before doing what she always did, guiding them into an light conversation that immediately set him at ease. Dallas was just beginning to enjoy himself when he caught himself too late replying with a vague comment that definitely piqued her curiosity. He should have realised she wouldn’t have let him get away with it and as she waited for his response, he raked a doubtful glance over her. He knew that spilling all his secrets to some newcomer was a bad decision, it formed an attachment, the last thing he needed right now, with thoughts of moving on and all. But her green eyes compelled him and he eventually gave in.

Sighing, Dallas related the real reason for leaving Tulsa and bringing up Alex was as painful as he’d predicted. He’d been holding on to it for so long, hiding it away in the deepest part of his heart and now bringing everything to the light was just such a relief. He found himself revealing all the details about his biggest secrets to a girl he’d barely known for two weeks. There was no logic in it but once he started talking, it felt kind of cathartic to finally share the burden with someone else. He kept his eyes on one patch of grass inching its way between the boulders they were sitting on as he talked, not wanting to meet Dominique’s gaze until he finished his story with edge to his voice. 

Her eyes were filled with empathy and concern when he finally looked at her. ‘I’m sorry Dallas. I wish there was something I could do to help.’ 

He should have recognised her willingness and generosity to want to help out even if she’d barely known him but he was feeling too jaded to notice, leaning back to stare out at the lake for a long moment. 

‘Thanks for telling me…’ She put in after a long moment. He simply nodded, not trusting his voice but recognised her empathetic tone. 

Sharing so much wasn’t in his nature and after basically baring his soul to her, Dallas knew needed something to smoothen the mood so he produced his harmonica, the one his mama’d given to him when he was young. He hadn’t played in years — he’d had no reason to — yet he kept it with him all the time. Soon enough he was telling her about his dream to be a singer. His mama had had the music in her and she passed that down to him. 

 Dominique’s rapt interest was more entertaining than anything he’d ever witnessed, the way her face lit up when he announced he’d sing her the song he’d written and how her expressions changed with the lyrics. He never took his eyes off her, wondering how in the world a random girl from the side of the road had gotten him to open up like he’d never had with anyone else before. He didn’t know how and he could’t begin to guess how she made everything in his crazy, mess of a life seem so easy… 

 ‘You’re something else, Dominique,’ he told her, unable to find words to properly express himself. 

 A grin grew on her features and as if by some magnetic force, Dallas found himself leaning in closer, the strange desire to kiss her on his mind. And when she leaned into him, a part of him hesitated a little, reminding him of his past again, who he was and all he risked by getting attached, but when her soft lips met his, kissing her back suddenly was the easiest thing in the world...  

[yuzuka-rei]

The Dark Affices: Lord of Shadows Analysis

(Unpopular opinions sorry+mostly criticism but the book is good, its just Imm irked by these points GAH ) I loved this book while reading it, the plot flowed well, the characters were quite lovable, but once I finished it- it felt like I had read nothing at all. The only feelings I had came from the whole situation with Kieran and Mark and Cristina, and that was just because I'm a total sucker for sad romances where one loves the other way more than they are loved back but ANYWAYS. (THE KIERARKTINA ANALYSIS IS NEAR THE END) Plot Villians Unseelie King Isn't even half as threatening or formidable of an archenemy as Sebastian Morgenstern, and that makes the whole story quite weak already Seelie Queen She's going to do something that will bite the shadowhunters in their arse the moment Julian gives him the Black Book. Predictable. She could've done way more manipulation on the others as well. Zara and the Cohort Everyone who fought in the way againt the Circle/Valentine is still alive. There is no way that within 10 years people who go back to wanting to brand downworlders and such. They remember the last time someone wanted to do that a massive war broke out and their relatives died. Also Zara is a two-dimensional character: her goal is weak, and she doesn't seem to have any human/likeable qualities. So she's a Regina-George-type character, made to be hated, but the Unseelie King has already taken that role. Repeat: Sebastian Morgenstern was a way better villian, since he had a single human quality: he wanted to be with his family, his sister and his brother. This brings us onto my next point Characters Both the villians and the heros both had very single-trait, non in-depth personalities, probably due to the amount of characters and arcs. Emma: too unflawed. Her emotions are quite simple throughout the book (there could've been great inner turmoil about whether she could give up being shadowhunter to love/protect Julian). She killed a rider too easily- making her seem to powerful. Julian: He was a pretty horrible person in this bk but in terms of character depth he's not too bad. He loves his family and would do anything for them and it's shown in a variety of ways. I've been comparing him to Cersei, since he's on the whole "family is most important" and "manipulation" thing. However, considering that he's practically been running the family, he should definitely sound less whiny and more mature. Cristina: I don't even know what to say. I can't even remember what you did apart from sing lullabies and be attached to Mark. Her lack of more personality sucks because Kieran keeps saying she's really nice and kind and stuff, but it's not that supported really. She could've contributed way more to the fantastic love triangle, by trying to actively push Mark away because she's seen how much Kieran loves him. Her selfishness here doesn't lone up with her wanting to end the Cold Peace for both faeries and shadowhunter's gain. Mark: I hate him and love him. Cassie made a good decision in making him quite the douchebag, not quite loving Kieran as much as he loves him and not caring enough about Kieran's feelings. But that makes him the most realistic of all characters: he feels regret since he's practically ditched Kieran the minute he didnt need him (I mean there's the whole "you made my brother and sister get tortured but you saved my other brother" thing which should've been Mark's excuse to himself about why he's not choosing Kieran, but he's doesn't and runs around with Cristina anyways. Interesting. Kieran: I love him to much to make any judgement. Also he's a faerie- they aren't exactly "humans" and their emotions are more 2D so... Ty: Better character compared to some others, and we now understand mildly how the twins and Kit work together as a team (since Kit needs to become one of the only people that understand Ty due to Liv's death) . Also his loyalty to family as seen by the letter to Annabel. Cassie has laid great groundwork for him. Can't wait for him to be a main character. Kit: He and Ty need potential to evolve in the next series so I'm giving them some slack. I'll do more analysis on their relationship later. Liv: She loves her brother and is curious about Kit and she's a generally more "realistic" character. Really thats it. I wish I felt tears for her death. I dont. Cassie could've developed her even more as a character, but then that would make her death more painful so. But her importance to Ty and the rest of the family is written enough that it would justify the changes that will happen due to her death. Dru: TBH Cassie could've not spread the characters out so much that we're kinda at a lost. Time spent writing about Dru could've been used on main-er characters, but Jaime needed an introduction. So did she. Looking forward to reading more about her in TWP. Diego: A character with multiple loyalties! Yay! Diana: It would've been way more influential if she had been forced by Julian to explain why she couldn't apply for the institute instead of dropping it like a "bonus" story which makes her seem like then token LGBT character. It's a great plot twist that couldn't have seemed even more forced. It's kinda sad that a brilliant character reveal was ruined Gywp: He's leader of the Wild Hunt and I know he's in love with Diana but he's not Magnus, who's always had nothing better to do than help hot shadowhunters. (Jkjk) Magnus/Alec/Jace/Clary: domestically cute and cameos that contribute to the main arcs. Now, onto the more controversial topics: THE ROMANCE Julian/Emma: This entire book is supposed to be about them balancing dealing for their love of each other with saving the world. It's written in a whiny way and not nearly enough character (If you've read the Throne of Glass series, then you'll understand- they needed the long-ass training scene between Aelin and Rowan). We never read about how they fall in love and that makes the emotions quite plastic...? It would've been fantastic to read more about how they fell in love instead of how they are insanely tortured now. It doesn't emotionally appeal to me at all. Cristina/Mark/Kieran: Words cannot express how much I fucking love this romance arc. It gives me so many feels, and half of them make me cry. I'll analyse Kierark first. When it first debuted it felt like the "token hot gay ship thats thrown in for the fangirls to get off to", but then as time passes we slowly learn how toxic this relationship really is. Kieran doesn't love anything else in this world apart from Mark, having no family, no friends to love him. Whereas with Mark, he's always been surrounded with love, with his half-brothers and sisters, Emma, Helen... etc. He doesn't understand how much he means to Kieran, and Kieran definitely loves Mark more. In the Wild Hunt, it's shown just how much Mark depended on Kieran to stay sane, which suggests, as Cristina says, that Mark owes a debt to Kieran. But it is not nearly that simple. Kieran's love for Mark is what kept him sane, and love is unconditional in most cases, including this. It is undeniable that Mark, despite him having the possibility of not being in love with Kieran when they first become lovers, due to it merely being what he needed, it is certain that Mark does feel for Kieran. Even when Kieran betrays Mark, Kieran believes it to only bring Mark back to him. I see someone so broken that they'd do anything to have their lover back, not a selfish bastard who doesn't cate about Mark at all. Kieran doesn't understand "Family", and in his defence the Blackthorns are a large enough family to survive without Mark. I'm not saying Kieran is entirely blameless, but its a totally understandable thing to want things to go back to how they used to be, and that is extremely human and ("I betcha you would have done the same"). Their love is insanely primitive and raw, and it is more of a "need" to both of them. Kieran needs someone to give him love, Mark needed someone to keep him sane. Then we move onto Mark. For some reason, the faerie-blooded characters seem to act the most human in this series. Mark is a bloody douche for stringing Kieran on, while pursuing Cristina, but then that's exactly what he craves. He needs someone to love him, in a simple way. He craves normality, and that comes in the form of Cristina, whom he finds himself attracted to, originally physical (he says he wants Cristina and that Kieran wouldn't mind: he was not emotionally attracted to Cristina. But now that he's spent time and realised how easy she is to love, he loves her). Kieran and Mark's relationship is not just sexual, or romantic, or friendship, or brotherhood- it's insanely complex and dependent and its toxic but they will never be able to remove the bond between them. They've experienced life and death together. But Mark doesn't want to be burdened by such a heavy emotional relationship anymore, and that's understandable, so he turns to Cristina. Kieran cannot bring himself to hate Cristina, since she wants the Cold Peace to end and that shows how much she cares for everyone and how she uncharacteristically wants to protect faerie rights despite being a shadowhunter. Cristina also oddly finds their relationship arousing instead of being jealous of Kieran, which leads to some of the fandom wishing for a polyamorous relationship. (Including me to an extent). On one hand Cristina could neutralise the toxicity of Kierark and also slowly teach Kieran to love other people, which would result in him not requiring the entirety of Mark's love. (Cuz currently, Kieran love mark with 100% of his heart and wants Mark to do the same. If Kieran loved other people it would be less toxic, since Mark does HAVE to share his love with his family even if Cristina is out of the picture ) On the other hand, it would be great for Kieran to find someone who will love him as much or even more than he loves them. The smol deserves more love in his life, don't you think? Also, I forgot to mention that Kieran does need to go back to the Wild Hunt, or he might become Unseelie King, and then Kierkark could actually be impossible, but I firmly believe they'll always love each other, maybe not as much as before, but they've left quite the imprint on each other's lives (The stars will go out before I forget you, Mark Blackthorn) Ty/Kit: LIKE THEY COMPLEMENT EACH OTHER SO WELL TY DOESN'T OPEN UP EASILY WHEREAS KIT DOES (he's already attached to the Blackthorns) And Kit is so much more outgoing and cool and GAH its a great ship looking SO forward to TWP. (Srsly I have so much hopes for TWP cuz in my opinion TDA is a bit of a weak arc and the only redeeming characters seem to be Mark's drama (I don't think we're going to see this in TWP I'm sad) Gwyp/Diana: super cute and deserves more love In conclusion: I love Cassandra Clare's style and how she can make character relationships insanely lovable. The fact that she always protects the characters all of us love from dying is great too. But @cassandraclare if you see this, please do consider these points made by a fangirl who is nitpicking a bit (I hope this series ends up as good as TID) for the greater good😂 (Also Diego/Kieran ain't too bad of a ship either😏😂) If you disagree with any of these, I am open to dicussions:) Just please don't blindly hate on this: all of us are entitled to opinions, you have yours and I have mine. Let's respect each other, okay?

[mysticmysterywrites-blog]

Prompt #1

So. Lets combine Soulmate "first words on the wrist" style, with Dungeon and dragons.

- I like the idea of lichdom being akin to TaaaaaZ's style of liches. More spectral, able to possess things, if you have a spare body you can inhabit it. Most of the time, the transformation from mortal to lichdom ends with its soul anchored onto something. More often then not, this is knowledge. Its why so many liches are labeled under the evil category, because logic can be cold when its left alone. But also, most of the time, wizards that turn to lichdom do so out of a search for knowledge. And in turn, that knowledge is what they anchor onto, leaving them with only knowledge to run off of. My boy? Nah homie he went the chaos route. Without a flesh suit, he's anchored himself onto emotions. Which is like, while its going to keep you sane much, much longer, its also going to be an absolute BITCH to control most of the time. He runs entirely off of emotions, and it takes a lot not to be what you think of when people compare others to water. Always changing, always turning. He has NO control over that. Anyway, he also just has a hard time thinking straight (Which like same) as a lich. So until he gets back to his body, he's going to be rambling nonsense.

I'm aware this is not how lich work in actual DND. I do what I want.

- As for soulmates, I'm more fond of the idea that soulmate isn't inherently romantic, so much as it means that it will be someone important in your life. More over, for an au like this one, you can have multiple soulmates, either romantic, platonic, ect ect ect. So it's like. Your soulmate isn't guaranteed to love you. After all, love takes work and time, and effort, and sometimes fate just doesn't guess a personality right. However, no matter what they will come into your life. Somehow, somewhere. And they WILL impact it. And thats the important part. (That said, you know this beotch a SLUT for shipping, come AT me with that shit) Oh, also I like the idea that the sentences on your skin evolve to fit the words you know. So babies down have much but like, a line. Toddlers will have broken up words and phrases, younger kids will be more simplistic. Though, about by the time most are 13, their full statement should just about be there (Unless, you know, somehow the soulmate drops a word they wouldn't know until that exact moment)

Finally, Slight warning. The main plot of this rp deals with a Atropals, which is like literally a god fetus that's been aborted. So like, if you're uncomfortable with that kind of enemy. Whoops

Anyway, that world building and warning aside. So, who thinks that a good way to "stop a not so all the way there ex from resurrecting a dead god fetus to raise it to it's true potential" is by becoming a lich and working entirely on your own because involving anyone else might get them killed, but also you don't feel so bad about getting YOURSELF killed. Well. Certainly Thales Depressed Ass.

Notedly, he's a LOT more finicky when he's not attached to a body. He either has a one track mind, or his mind is all over the place. Once he's back in is body (and while he is able to leave it) He acts a lot calmer, and far more collected. But he's still kind of, new to this lich thing? Like you know those liches that have been at it for at least a hundred years and have their shit together and just kinda wanna devour souls? Yeah no that ain't him, he's been at it for a year and a half and he is ALL over the place. However, when he has a body to possess? All of his stats went into like, Intelligence and Charisma. Dex and Wisdom got like a little more. Constitution and strength?? Oh no. Oh noooo....

He's a fuck boy. Just like, a fuck boy that can die multiple times, so.

In his human flesh suit, Thales is 6'2, with smooth long hair about down to his mid-back. He has a tendency to lean twards glam fashion over anything else, because whats the point of having magic if all eyes aren't on you? Paints his nails, hairs always in a different style, deffo has at least four or five rings on the same finger sometimes. Would in fact wear the wizard hat. Lich wise.. its as I mentioned. Think more, spectral skeletal figure mixed with dementor, type of deal. His magic is silver based, so I imagine his spectral would end up leaning to the same. Have the like, bright red eyes though, and keeps that distinct skeletal figure.   He has a twin brother that he ditched, that probably will end up becoming relevant sooner over later. That chump is fucking pissed.

As for the character type I'm looking for.. Species and gender wise? I'm not picky. Personality wise? I'm kiiiinda leaning to characters that are more on the chaotic end of the spectrum? Like. Maybe not ENTIRELY assholes (though I love asshole characters and would never dare to deny them) but you know. Characters that got a little umph to them. Maybe some with just as questionable morals. That said, this is /not/ set in stone. The idea of this Chaotic Neutral Gremlin getting paired up with some Lawful Good chump thats just standing there HOLLARING as he grows ANOTHER body is also VERY appealing to me. So. Hm, Guess I'm not picky about personality type either then, just something that can be amusing.

Also, your character can have as much or as little an idea of whats going on with this situation as you want. Did they start snooping where they shouldn't have?? Just kind of pick the wrong guy to argue with at the bar? Kicked out of the Cool Kidz Cult for necro-crimes? All up to you, world is your oyster. Ect Ect Ect.

Theres a line of gold on his wrist.

It matches his brothers perfectly. It's not something he questions, for the longest time. You don't question the freckles on your cheek, nor the color of your eyes. It was something that was just /there./ It was apart of them, and to question its existence wasn't even an offense, so much as unthought of.

He points it out to his twin one day, when he realizes that no one they've met has one quite like theirs. It's basic, for all intent and purposes. Just a bold line of gold, shines against the light like a bracelet. Like paint, even. "Ma doesn't have a band around her wrist," He says, as he traces the line in his own skin, "'Lae don't either. I think it's just us."

Their mother answers them with a smile when they ask. "Well, You were always together," She points out to them, as they hold out their wrists to her pointedly. She gives them a small smile, and carefully holds each of their hands, "It's never been important, for you to know what you'd say to eachother. It's simply important that you know it's there. And well.. There you are," She lets go of their hands, lets a soft breath out, "People love to talk about the bonds of family, but its rare for family to actually be bonded by fate. Don't ruin what She gives you, boys,"

Their mother was smart, and they were not. So they nod along, even if they don't fully understand. And it takes them years to truly realize what she meant.

~~

Theres a red one on his wrist, snug carefully under the golden line on his wrist. Its crimson, and brilliant, and he finds himself mouthing the words to himself time and time again.

His brothers has a very ugly word on it, according to their tutor. He blinks at it time and time again. "I'm not even sure how you know that word," His tutor frowns, then - "Ah Right. You're Kioko's children. Your mother should take more care to watch her mouth around the two of you."

"Ah, you're that motherfucker that the word has been about as of lately around?" His mother laughs herself silly at his brother's bond, when he asks. Sticks his arm out right to her. It's obviously not fully formed, the words are simple, still changing. But the swear stays thick on his arm, and she tells him not to repeat it with a pat on the head.

He rubs his own at night and wonders about it till dreams take him away.

~~

He dates a girl when he's 16, and then a boy when he's 20.

The girl, she's beautiful. She had these beautiful, teal eyes that just lit up when she spoke about something she loved. She had a passion for hammers, knew how to swing a punch. He'd once saw her deck someone straight across the room. She finds her romantic soulmate because of him, ironically enough. An Aasimar woman, skin bronze that has an affinity for flames. Their first words are

"I know I'm a little drunk right now, but I think I just saw an angel." "You shouldn't act so surprised, It's just the alcohol talking."

They've no hard feelings between the two of them, and once or twice they take care to take a job or two together.

The man is more complex. A centaur blessed by the forest in whispers and prayers. His figure is thin and hind reminds him of a dears, and he's eve got these elegant horns to show. He's a bit older then himself, maybe six years or so. He studies magic, all the same as him. Gets lost in his studies and forgets about things easily. He has this beautiful blonde hair, and a hand carved stave, and- Their break up is sloppy, and leaves him torn up for months.

"You shouldn't look at people like that, they might get the wrong idea, lad." (He never does find out how his conversation goes. Maybe he should return to that forest and find out one day.)

~~

He starts researching necromancy not for use, but for archiving.

It's an easy lie to play off of. He wouldn't make the lie too broad an say that the magic did not, at least, fascinate him. And certain spells are easy to incorporate into his magic pool. False life is incredibly handy for when they come across being that see them as little more as targets. Vampiric Touch has given him a sharp heal far more then he'd like to admit, and he finds himself using Circle of Death on men far more menacing then he.

But he keeps himself in the clean. Between himself and his brother? They like to travel. And as he travels, he writes down the oddest, most unique spells he can find in a singular book. He's never been sure what for, not immediately. But maybe one day he'll get use out of it. Maybe one day they'll actually know what to do with it.

They're 16, young, and dumb, and if you'd told him at the time he'd get use out of the most dangerous spell he'd collected he would have laughed in your face. (They separate, later. Some stupid fight over some stupid issue. But he keeps the book near and dear to him, and doesn't let go.)

~~

The third man he dates is by far the most interesting.

By then, Thales is maybe 23. Allsuns... gorgeous. Again, a few years older then him, but thats to be expected with high elves. His soulmate has long since passed, something about a magical accident on the coast line. He laughs it off, tells him that it was a long time ago. Grabs his hand as he tells him not to worry. It should have been his first warning, perhaps. It had always been weird when he'd phrased it like that.

Not to worry.. Not to worry....

But he's always been easy to trick with a pretty face. (Trick wasn't the right word. He always knew, of course, the man was dangerous. It was just easier to ignore when he had such a nice smile to him)

The man is really the reason he really begins to delve farther into necromancy. The push he needed into the pool.

~~

"Did you know there was suppose to be another goddess of fate."

Thales raise an eyebrow in Allsun's direction. They're in a library, reading over some book to dig out Information for the man's latest project. He always told Thales, you'd never believe how much knowledge you can find in the pages of a book. It might not be what you're looking for, but you can apply knowledge anywhere.

And you know. Thales was included to agree. But he was tired, and the book offered him little use. "Odd topic, but I'll humor you. Go on,"

"Not odd at all. In fact, I dare say it to be relevant," the man snaps his book shut, pushes his hair back on his head, "Lady Istus was with child. However, a great sin was cast upon it. Poisoned, if it were, by an overly zelous god. Stricken by grief, she goes to her good friend," A wiggle of the eyebrow, metaphorical air quotes "The raven queen, and begs her to help. So, the goddess rips it from her womb!" He swings his arms up, and Thales can't help but hide a snort into his hand, "Problem solved, right? Wrong! Now they need somewhere to put this child, and-"

"An unborn child to a major god? That's just Her story," he tilts his head, lets an easy grin cross his face, "Try again."

"Im not! Consider it- Perhaps. Perhaps it is, fate, wouldn't you put it? That her child suffers the same route as she," and suddenly, it happens. He'd always been easy to read. The emotion showed best on his ears, and there was nothing more amusing then sitting back to watch But this? This was different. This was serious. It was a tonal shift that might as well have shocked him awake, straight into a new conversation.

"See, the fetus? They needed to put it somewhere. What better place then the lands they rule? It was left to rot here-" he taps the floor with his staff, "not here, specifically. But here, on this plane, on these grounds. And know what? It fuels our fates, Thales. Istus thinks she's in control of our bonds, but she simply records fate."

"No, no. It's spoken to me. It is the one that ties the strings between us and and the gods," there's a pause in the man's voice, and it's in that moment he catches the glint in the man's eye. It's bitter, and numb, and the pretty face that hides his intent is gone. He was serious. The joke was gone. This wasn't hypothetical.

"But it is so, very angry. And instead of rotting, it feeds." Allsun's smiles, and the casualty of it chills his spine.

"/We're/ going to raise a deity, Thales."

Hey.

What, the fuck.

~~

He's use to traveling with his brother, is the thing.

Between the two of them, they're quiet good at getting attention on themselves. Thales has magic that's different from your everyday wizard. Knows how to put his own touch to it. His brothers a bard. His entire job is to entice crowds. And though he doesn't come off as such, his brother enjoys having the attention on him, on stage.

They're good at what they do. Put on shows, make some gold.

Allsun is different.

He uses his words, gathers crowd not by story, but by motivation. He tells people what they want to hear, sways them in his direction. At first, it had been interesting to watch. He'd sit back and scribble in the notebook how the man swayed the last crowd, watch as more people turned their attention to his gaze. Once he begins to hear the poison behind the honey, he knows he can't stay. But Allsun has already planted his seen in the world, and its only a matter of time before he watches it take its root.

And he's terrified as to what this man can do.

~~

Despite this, He stays with him as long as he can.

At first it's easy. Don't show him what you've found, things that could possibly help his conquest. He likes to think he did some kind of damage to it. That he put it off for just a LITTLE longer. But it gets harder. The Allsun quickly finds followers, finds people who gather under word of mouth. It's far faster then he ever expects them to gather, and by then he's no stop to the resources the man has access to.

It's not just Allsun that is dangerous. This, thing. Allsun had been all too eager to explain to concept. Explain what it could DO and how it could grow. He's not an easy man to rattle. Despite this, he doesn't see why the man is so eager to rise such a being. But he knows, if anyone can do it... Allsun can.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. And he is so, incredibly desperate.

He turns the pages of his book of forbidden magic, magic he's collected after years on years of travels through ancient ruins and tucked away cities. Magic only people that have been forgotten by the sands of time would practice.

For now, he runs. Begins accounting for what he'll need.

~~

The spell is not simple.

Of course, anyone could tell you that. If necromancy were easy, if just any ol'chump could do it, then they'd have immortals casually wandering about. He thinks, maybe Mystra made the magic neigh impossible not as a test, but to test the bounds of morality. Ask any who defy the laws of nature, why were they doing it? For what purpose did they have, thinking they could go against the gods and the order of things as they stood.

But he is no simple wizard.

No, no. He's motherfucking Thales Maheras. If anyone is going to become a lich, it is him.

~~

He wonders, sometimes, what his brother is up to.

Bet he found his soulmate by now.

His thoughts linger on it for a moment, but that hesitance does not linger for too long. He had more important things to deal with.

~~

If life is a knit scarf, staying alive is keeping on strings

With every attack in battle, another string is cut. And most of the time, when you fall in battle- Loose all your hp, so to say, the strings are given to death to tie. You're pulled to the next realm with guidance or by force. Or perhaps you're pulled to a new body, if you're quick enough.

However, becoming a lich... it's taking those strings, and wounding it around your soul. Time and time again, until theres no where you can go but here. For that, being a lich is dangerous. Theres nowhere to go when you die, when you truly die. You're trapped to wander forever, or vanish into nothingness.

He finds that, maybe. The idea of nothingness isn't horrible after all.

~~

Lichdom suits him well.

He manages it with far less struggle then he'd imagined he would. The hardest part was getting the supplies. Necromancy was not a cheap class, and he finds himself stealing more then he finds himself buys. He knows, he could possibly turn to his mother for money. Knows that she would not hesitate to send him a couple thousand gold should he ask. Might ask out of curiosity, not out of accusation.

But it feels wrong. He can't ask her for money, something that he'd be using to buy the supplies that would inevitably kill her son. He spends the money on bigger things. A clone pod, a new stave, a new wand. He keeps the stave in his house, a little place on the mountains, where snow just falls and falls. It's cold, its unforgiving, but its private. You need to know where to go to get there. Has a teleportation Circle in place, just to make things a little easier to manage. Getting there is harder then leaving.

Its also, private. Privacy is important, and if people are around to hear his screams, they think its the wind.

But once he has the supplies, its as simple as... following steps. Practicing his magic. Something he's done for years, shoved himself into time and time again. It only takes him a year. Between jumping around, collecting the supplies he needs, practicing the magic he sways, and avoiding men on his trail, it only takes him a year to become a lich. He supposed, if there were anything to be smug about, that would be it.

(When he looks down at the words on his wrist, they've turned black. They're the color of death. He wonders if he's severed his connection with a lover. He wonders if this is his punishment, for messing with fate. He was hoping she'd understand, but.. bah. He has more important things to deal with)

~~

He leaves to find Allsun.

Allsun has grown powerful in two years. Both in influence and magic. He has men to do his bidding, watches him create men to do his bidding. If he's ever felt bad about his necromancy, he knows not to now.

And. It clicks, one night when he's just.. watching. Far enough away not to get caught, but close enough to see. A warlocke. Not a wizard, a warlocke. The man is a warlocke, and he's made a deal with something far outside his pay-range.

Then again. So has He.

~~

He burns through his first new body on accident.

He's lucky. His old body hardly had even decomposed

It teaches him to be careful with the blood and body he carries, however. There could always be another incident. He didn't have control over his powers, and snapping from something like possession to burning

If he lost his body entirely, this would be so, so much harder.

His second body had been slaughtered.

He's foolish, with the second one. Doesn't wait until the third has finished growing to actually start doing shit. He's lucky the process only takes three months. He even considers, for a time, finding another clone pod to bid on- steal. But one was bad enough to take care of.

So, he quietly learns not to proceed with a plan until his body has grown once again. He needs not to be left without a body for three months again. It gives him time to practice his abilities, sure. But it leaves him alone, with no one but himself.

The third

And the fourth is.... Well...

~~

He was killed again.

Allsuns men got to him. He knows, then. Damn, he'd thought he'd been sly, too.

He's patient. Patient enough not to blow his cover, patient enough to linger in a limp body, allow himself to be carried and ditched. It's a long wait. His body grasps desperately for sleep, to leave in a state of ignorance. But he can't let Allsun know about this, his lichdom is the one thing he has up his sleeve. The power that comes with it, is the one thing that he has up his sleeve. And he continues to wait. He allows himself to bleed out. Normally, he'd not suffer the pain that comes with dying so slowly. He'd sever the threads of life that remains, taint his own living body until his soul could rise and lash out on its own accord. But he needs to know there's no one near by. He knows their men will linger, knows it's safer to let himself die a slow, agonizing death.

In a sort of Mccob way, it's.. beautiful. Relaxing, even. Hanging onto the last threads of life, just long enough to feel the way few settles on him. Long enough to feel himself settle into the earth, something he knows very well he will not do for a very long time. His breaths are fleeting, shorter with every passing moment.  

He knows it's nothing more then a calm before the storm, and It's when the last string of life leaves him, does his world turn to flames.

His screech is one of murder, one of absolute hatred and anger. It's absolutely animalistic, and bloody, and filled with a poison he didn't know he had in him until he'd died.

It's hard to keep himself composed. He /doesn't/ keep himself composed. Its moments like this he's envious of those that run on logic, that run with their mind fully in gear. But here? It's a pure show of emotion and power. His rage meets his magic, and together they create a spectacular show of light and flame. It circles around him, dances on the grass and trees, sparking like electricity and dazzling like glitter. It's not entirely harmless, but he takes as much care as he can manage not to burn this body. He's been careless before, and there's nothing worse then needing to slice your skin on a fresh body, just to grow another. The memories of it don't exactly give him control, but it stops him from burning his immediate surroundings to a crisp. And when he's done he's left... Alone. His power falls off of him in waves, a display that was only moments ago a spectacular display now chilling him to the bone (haha.) It falls off of him in waves, trailing off into smoke, which quickly turns into heavy mist. It settles in the ground around him, lingers in between the blades of grass and fallen leaves. But it's harmless, now. Any necromancy taint is minimal, And he's left alone, at the mercy of his own emotions.

...

Except.

He's not alone.  

As his anger dies and the flames fall, leaving him floating there, he actually notices them for the first time They're sitting close enough to him that they couldn't have gotten caught in the cross fire, but absolutely must have felt the heat of it. They look.. terrified? Pissed? It was hard to tell. He couldn't connect dots or emotions in this state, just knew that emotion absolutely should not have been a positive one. His eyeless gaze flickers over them, taking in the sight of them on the ground (broken leg? Bruised body. Possibly beaten by Allsuns men. What the hell did they do to them?)

They speak to him.

He blinks. Everything snazzy he'd thought he'd say in this moment- if his soulmate was the one to speak to him first. It's gone out the window. Something.. Vore. Something about wanting to be tied up. Something FUNNY. He just feels dizzy. Thats hard to manage, when you've no physical form.

"Oh Huh," He says, thoughtfully, glancing down at his own, skeletal wrist. The words are still there, engraved in black under a dusky grey, "You know, I wondered how I was going to tell whatever poor bastard got stuck with me about /this/." A pause, and he doesn't even acknowledge that is on their arm forever, ("Guess that cats out of the bag.") The laugh that follows is sad, and to a degree cruel. He wonders if they've been given a new soulmate yet- Another one. How ironic would that be?

Though, he thinks, perhaps this is istus' way of punishing him for his sins. Not by not giving him a soulmate. By tormenting them, his /soulmate./

Its not something he needs to be concerned about.

He hovers for a moment, glancing down at his own body. The strings that keep his soul tied to it have far since been severed, leaving him without a husk. Its a nonissue. He has another one grown, and he'll have another one soon enough. "Look, as excited as I am to meet my soulmate. Thrilled, really, honestly, like genuinely it's hard to express this right now but- Fuck it. Okay," Keeping his voice from the terror it demands to be is hard, cruel even. He manages, "We don't have time for formalities. We need to leave. I burnt through this body faster then I thought I would," something about that is wrong. He knows, he knows he needs his body. He can't just fight without it.

"Come on, it's not safe." He casts false life on them.

It's no pure heal, but it should fix them up long enough to get them out of here.

(It's a shame. The words "So, what are your thoughts on vore?" Would have been /hilarious/ on someone's arm.)