#just having times where they're “unreachable” is good for them

[sab-cat]

May 9, 2024

As schools grapple with how to keep students off their cell phones, one Connecticut school took a blunt approach. In Manchester, Illing Middle School requires students to lock phones in a pouch until the end of the day. It comes as lawmakers in at least half a dozen states are pushing their schools to curb phone use. Amna Nawaz discussed more with Illing assistant principal Raymond Dolphin.

Raymond Dolphin:

So, initially, of course, our students, they had major resistance. They thought it was — they were a lot — a lot of them were very, very fearful.

What does it seem — what does it look like for me not to have access to my phone, when this device is something that, for some students, they would sleep with? And so it was a lot of fear there, a lot of frustration. But they soon adapted to it and responded very well....

If the parent wants to reach their student, they can call the main office and we can get messages to them. So you have access to your students. And the only change is that that immediate, like this-second reaction to send a text or send multiple texts is no longer there.

So, families do have to be a little bit more planned, but that opportunity still exists.

[yeyinde]

in connection to the previous post about simon/price’s dynamics; do kyle and johnny have similar dichotomies w their loves ?

i love the surge in SoapGaz because we really get to see how insane these two really are together lmao but yeah. charm and obsession is kinda how i see them.

both are intense, bold. their attention makes you feel like a bug under a microscope, but not at first. when it first happens, it's a spotlight. red carpet. dizzying. who wouldn't go a little insane having such an intense, gorgeous man lazer all his focus on them? and the way they do it is fan-ish. an unfathomable concept to wrap your head around until you have a man checking every single box you've ever had, raising the bar to an unreachable height as they shower you with unparalleled attention.

but the problem is, you don't see all the red flags because their personalities blind you to it. a little bit like a tsunami. you don't see the wall looming in front of you when the water recedes because you're too busy staring at the pretty seashells they uncovered for you.

with them, it's all charm, manipulation, and an unhinged obsession to the point where they're not content to simply be with you. they need you rooted so deeply to them that you just can't be without them.

Gaz slowly, steadily breaks down every wall you've ever had and rebuilds it around the two of you. locking you inside. sealing the exit. and you let him. because why wouldn't you?

Gaz is mature. a rock. he's someone who immediately feels untouchable; a phantom in a dream you can't ever seem to catch. but when you finally get him, it's almost fantastical. he's solid. steady. takes everything single thing you throw at him and tidies it up for you. ailments, illnesses. quirks. nothing seems to phase him. there's not a single thing you could try and leverage against him to see if he'll leave because he has an answer to it all. he doesn't mind going to physiotherapy with you. he reminds you to take your pills. gentles you into submission. peels back the layers slowly and examines every single part of you until nothing is without his fingerprints.

Gaz leaves you yearning. there's nothing else after him. no one else.

(and if you happen to slip away, he makes sure of it. stalks you, the people you date. threatens them with a flash of his canines and eyes that look far more wolfish than they should. isolates you slowly. methodically. narrows your world down to just him and ensures you'll come crawling back.

what else is out there for you when he's the Perfect Man? just ignore the stench coming from the closet.)

Soap is tumultuous. a whirlwind. the sirens wail warning you of a tornado but he's already ripped your house apart by the time you hear it. his attention is undivided. blistering. he's too handsome for his own good. too sweet, too. lures you in with roguish charm and devoted from day one. if you met on a dating app, he's deleting it before the first conversation is over. doesn't need it anymore, he says. he found the one. with Soap, it's the most intense relationship you've ever been in. a nonstop marathon of everything: conversations, future plans, sex. he dotes on you, but doesn't treat you like you're made of glass. showers you in affection, attention. makes you feel wanted in every conceivable way.

without him around, you feel dazed. confused. waking up on the beach after falling asleep under the sun. a little sunburn and sick.

and that's how you stay without him. a sigh of relief, at first. the silence is blissful. but then you hit a wall. you stagnant. he's the human version of a serotonin hit and the moment he leaves, you're left feeling empty. sucked dry.

it just makes sense to go back.

they pull you in, strip you bare. wrap themselves around your neck like a boa constrictor but where Soap takes a bite right away and then breaks you down, Gaz plays the long game of slowly coiling around you until it's too late.

[shushmal]

rating: G tags: getting together, fluff prompt: Love is what makes you brave. @steddielovemonth

Knowing Steve, Eddie's decided, has been one of the greatest things to ever happen to him. All the shit he put up with a kid growing up, all the stupid high school bullcrap, the hell dimension of government conspiracies laying dormant beneath his feet: all of that doesn't matter because now Eddie has Steve.

Well... Has Steve in his life. Has Steve's friendship. Has him in casual touches, in inside-jokes, in silly matching friendship bracelets that Robin made them.

Steve isn't Eddie's. Even though Eddie is Steve's. Because Steve does have him, in every possible way. And Eddie doesn't mind that it's unbalanced—he could be happy like that for the rest of his life. He would be best friends with Steve until they're old and sitting in the nursing home and playing with Steve's grandkids.

It doesn't stop Eddie from wanting though. From dreaming. From pretending about some unreachable future where he gets to wake up to Steve, gets to eat meals with Steve, gets to drive Steve around and complain about his music and eat all the food Steve cooks and tell him how handsome he is each time he smiles.

Eddie's not a kid anymore though. Dreams don't fuel him like they used to, don't drive him to reach for bigger and better things.

Instead, Eddie has something else that makes him braver.

"Hey," Eddie says, a little breathless, hands sweating around the horribly expensive roses he's got clutched to his chest.

"Hey!" Steve echoes, surprised and flustered and confused.

"Is this a bad time?" Eddie might be an idiot. Steve's in sweat pants and a lumpy sweater, a handmade thing that Eddie recognizes from one of El's hobby experiments. He looks so cozy, and Eddie would be happy being Steve's friend the rest of his life, but that doesn't stop Eddie from wanting.

"N-No, not at all," Steve says, and his eyes are caught up on the roses in Eddie's hands. "Wha— Is everything okay?"

Eddie might be an idiot, but he still knows Steve, knows all his tells: the way his ears are pink, his eyes wide and hopeful, his hands running though his hair nervously.

"Yeah," Eddie breathes, the tension releasing his spine, leaving him instead with a growing bubble of warmth in his chest. Eddie's only felt this brave a few times in his life. He grins, giddy, and asks, "Can I come in?"

Steve's answering smile is just more wind beneath Eddie's wings. "Of course," he says in a breathy whisper. "I always want you here, Ed."

Eddie leans in close, too close still for a darkened doorway in the middle of Hawkins, Indiana. But Eddie is Steve's and Eddie will always be caught in Steve's gravitation, will always want to be as close as Steve will let him.

And Steve rewards Eddie's bravery by leaning in just as close, meeting him halfway, so that Eddie can whisper in the shared air between them. "Good, because there's no where I want be, unless it's with you."

[younglingslayer300]

something that i find really interesting is that i think anakin is actually a very sociable person - we don't see much of him off tatooine, but in that first film he invites complete strangers into his home, and he's talking to them without any reserve. he does have friends, and the conflict he does have with the other slave kids mostly seems to be because he has so much hope of escaping slavery, something they also want, and they resent his hope more than his abrasive personality, something that never happens again in the whole series. (also, they're children in a horrible environment who need some kind of outlet for their resentment, and that conflict is something anakin understands - he may argue with them, but at the end of the day he's still one of them, which is a sense of security that he doesn't achieve with the jedi)

and then you get the next films, and he's much more awkward, but he's still very direct - he likes talking to people, and he doesn't really like being alone. but, crucially, he frankly doesn't seem to like most of the people he's around, and i know that can be explained by saying that actually he is antisocial, and his behaviour as a kid was just a childish lack of inhibitions.

but tbh i find it much more compelling to imagine that he is very sociable, and he does like people, and naturally gets on with them. and the reason this is pretty much the opposite in the 2nd and 3rd films is because he's so completely out of his depth. he hates tatooine so much, and he obviously hated being a slave, but he's never been able to shake that from his identity. he can't be sociable anymore, can't click with people, because they're so completely unreachable to him; he doesn't know where he stands with them, because he's only ever felt 'right' as a slave (he's so ill), and he can't connect with people the way he naturally would, because he can't fit in anywhere else. he never feels confident as a jedi (e.g. interrupting padme when she calls him a trainee, and getting overly angry when the council doesn't make him a master), because he has an entirely different set of values to them - succeeding, to him, is proving that he is good at violence and does not need to be violenced - and knows that his view of life is just incompatible with the rest of the jedi. he can't feel comfortable, he never knows exactly where he stands with them, and their mindsets are completely incomprehensible to him, so he can never be sociable again the way he was as a child.

and that follows him his whole life. he tries desperately to escape tatooine, and prove himself worthy of personhood, but there was never anything to prove, so he never manages it. i think it's one reason he's so comfortable with padme (possibly @husborth said something similar in one of their posts?) because even though he doesn't want people to know about his childhood, the fact that she understands him, and knew him in the only time of his life where he didn't feel out of his depth, means he can relax around her. i also think it's one of the many reasons he's so miserable in adulthood, because he desperately needs lots and lots of friends, and has 0, and also he hates everyone around him. that hatred isn't natural to him, but he can't relax around anyone because he's been taught, as a child, never to let his guard down. on tatooine, he knew the stakes: disobey orders, get blown up. everywhere else, he has had to navigate this nuance-led structure, that involves feelings and frowns on violence, and frankly he never adjusts to that change. even though he wants to be friends with people, naturally likes people, he can never relax around them, and so he automatically dislikes + distrusts them instead, which exhausts him. he is not a naturally mistrusting person, but it's been beaten into him, literally

[questforyellow]

One thing I don't think I've ever seen anybody talk about yet is this incredibly fascinating difference between the colors and lighting of the very beginning cutscene of KATFL when Kirby is still in Dreamland and the colors and lighting when they're in the Forgotten Land.

In Dreamland, even before the sky becomes cloudy, there's an odd plastic quality to everything. Seeing it for the first time, it almost struck me as a tad unsettling.

All the grass blades are so defined.

There isn't any warm light bouncing off of Kirby or the grasses. It feels like white light.

And see the horizon? There's no fading of the landscape into the color of the sky (I tend to call this "world fog" because of Minecraft, but I don't know if that's the actual scientific term for it). So much distance, so much to see, and no fading.

It's a cutesy-dangerous wonderland of whimsy and fantasy somewhere far away and removed from us. It's nothing like our world. It's so different, so separate, from the reality we know.

And everything, both foreground and background, seems to be largely in focus, as well.

It's like they want us to take a good, long look.

Maybe this strange idyllic-seeming combination is hinting of the disaster to come ...

But I'm of the impression that maybe, just maybe, it's also because Dreamland isn't real.

Not to us.

But then along comes the portal, and Kirby is zipped off to a new world, a different world. The "real world".

Or it seems to be, doesn't it? It definitely seems like this was the place humanity lived and prospered in, and left behind. Before humans were ever in Kirby's own galaxy, before Shiver Star ... this must have been where humanity started.

As they step onto the beach, we can see the warmth of the sun on their body. They've got a warmer pink instead of the colder one of the very beginning.

Now so much closer to us, in our world, Kirby---and everything else around them---looks real.

It's all different.

It's just so fascinating to me. It's so striking a difference.

And here, we can see the way the city in the background fades into the sky color. Everything at a distance is soft, out of focus.

We can see the way the sun lights up the grasses, not like plastic or toys or dreams in an unreachable place, but like real grasses bouncing real sunlight, in a real world, in our world.

[massivechildturtle]

Astrology observations.. ♡

🌱-people with mercury in aries cuss alot like A LOT which can be sometimes inappropriate (they're also very blunt.. They dont think before they speak which can cause problems).

🌱-people with prominent pisces placements are often good at dancing and have flexible bodies they just have something about the way they move its sensual..

🌱-is it just me or do all cap venus people want to spend their time in a countryside when they get older?!

🌱- i hv often seen people with venus in Aquarius placements (especially men) staying single for majority of their life due to their different standards (its not like they have unreachable standards) they just have so many people simping on them so its hard for them to identify "the one".

🌱-scorpio moon/jupiter people are very much interested in astrology, psychology, occult science like subjects bcz these stuff require deep research and study which they hv mastered since birth

🌱- its not easy to pass on a Capricorn's vibe ... But for some reason pisces people create a soft corner for themselves in a cap's heart (lemme know wht u guys think )

🌱-alright i think people were quite confused on the last post i made abt cancer moons. Although my experiences with them hv been quite good but we cannot forgive the fact that they are masters at manipulating shit.

🌱-venus in sag does not always have to indicate a foriegn spouse it could just mean that if you're from aa country where there are different religion and cultures.. Your husband/wife can have a very different cultural background.

🌱-Sagittarius women deserve all the love.. These queens are savage and damm their humor, wit, sarcasm its just a perfect blend.. I just love that how they are not afraid of anything.

-------------------------------------------

Y'all thanku so much for so much love... I love you guyzz alot 🫶

Do lemme know wht u think abt above observations... Bye see yaa🌼

[shuttershocky]

Hey shutters, another Arknights newbie attack!

I just got spooked by Ebenholz, he looks super cute and I'd love to use him, could you give me your thoughts on him? Would I use him instead of the single target casters I have (Amiya and Click at the moment)?

(Extra question: if you feel like it, could you explain chain casters too? Or just Leizi in particular, she spooked me as well haha)

As always thank you, you've helped me (and other newbies) so much with understanding this game!

You've come to the right place, Ebenholz is a personal favorite of mine!

Right so to understand him you're going to have to understand his archetype. Ebenholz is a Mystic Caster. Mystics differ from Core Casters (like Amiya) or Mech Accords (like Click) in that they have ginormous ATK stats but also attack very slowly, meaning if they were to repeatedly attack the same target, a Mystic will lose out to both a Core or a Mech Caster in DPS.

But! The archetypes gimmick is that if there are NO enemies to attack, they begin charging up. Let's say enough time has passed that a Mystic would have attacked 3 times already if there was a target, if there's none, a Mystic instead stores those 3 attacks as charges. As soon as an enemy walks in, the Mystic is ready to greet them like

Which could be amazing if that enemy is a dangerous one that gets instantly deleted before it even does anything, but could also suck if the target is, let's say, an originium slug.

As you may have already realized, Mystic Casters are terrible at dealing with crowds and stages that have plenty of trash enemies, but are incredibly good at guarding lanes with only occasional but highly dangerous enemies that you want to kill as quickly as you can.

As the 6 star of the Mystic Casters, Ebenholz takes the idea of the class and ramps it up to 11. His sheer oneshot burst potential is currently higher than anyone else in the game, and in fact if you look up videos of him you'll mostly see videos of people cheesing boss stages by setting Ebenholz up to oneshot the boss outright. To aid him in this, Ebenholz's talents let him store an extra charge that he will ONLY use for Bosses or Elite enemies, while his S3 makes him ignore all enemies EXCEPT for Bosses or Elites, meaning slugs and dogs and drones will fly right past him as he continues charging his attacks.

Think an operator ignoring certain enemies might be a little difficult for a newbie? No problem. Ebenholz's S2 is both automatic and ridiculously easy to understand, where as soon as his SP bar fills up, Ebenholz automatically converts any charges he's stored and drops them as goat-shaped magic mines on the stage. If an enemy touches them, the mines explode. The mines also have a pull to them, often to pull an enemy into a full minestack to deal a ton of damage. If you're intimidated by Ebenholz's mechanics, start by playing with S2, and then imagine all that damage from various mine explosions being focused into one gargantuan burst attack, that's his S3.

Oh but I can't leave you without telling you how to tell an Elite enemy from a normal one!

In the enemy information screen, Elite enemies like Heavy Defenders have that triangle logo next to their name. If they have one, it means Ebenholz will attack them even with his S3 activated.

As for bosses, they're fairly obvious to tell apart from normal enemies no?

____

As for Leizi, Leizi is a Chain Caster. Think of Chain Casters as the halfway point between Core Casters and Splash Casters. They shoot at a single target, but that attack can bounce to nearby enemies while slowing them. They only have a limited number of bounces so they can't quite hit theoretically infinite targets the way Splash Casters can, but since their attack bounces can move diagonally, Chain Casters are able to ricochet shots onto otherwise unreachable enemies, or else deal with a crowd that stays a little further apart to minimize AOE effects. The slow they deal on hit is also a decent crowd control option, especially in alternate game modes like IS or SSS where you can gain really large ASPD bonuses for Chain Casters so they never stop zapping an enemy.

Leizi in particular is a funny one. Her biggest powerspike isn't once she's hit Elite level 2 and it isn't once you've fully leveled her second skill. Unlike the majority of operators, Leizi's module upgrade is gamechanging for her, giving her +1 SP for every enemy she hits that isn't blocked (and remember, her attacks bounce). This lets her spam her S2 which usually has a massive SP cost and is the secret to why Leizi in particular is seen as one of the strongest carries in the SSS game mode. All you have to do is slap 5 Sniper ASPD equipment onto Leizi, point her in the general direction of the enemies, activate her S2 whenever she recharges it, and then watch her annihilate the map.

[sword-dad-fukuzawa]

but yeah, no. misa amane doesn't understand sex with no strings attached. hell, she doesn't understand any relationships that aren't transactional. but it's very pivotal that kiyomi takada doesn't have anything she wants from her. misa amane can't give her anything. more accurately, kiyomi doesn't need anything that misa could possibly give her, and it's a strange dynamic that's so alien to misa that she's intrigued and repulsed by it.

YOUUUUUUU UNDERSTAAAAAAND

i think a lot of why misa is attracted to light in canon isnt because she actually likes him as a person whatsoever it's just that like. she's so goddamn lonely. open wound of a person latching onto a black hole. AND he has a perfect family too thats why she calls soichiro "dad" in the car scene she's a cuckoo bird she needs people so bad and they don't need her. and it's so fucking nice being with light because he gives her a very clear goal to work towards: Be Useful. so she can just do that!!!! she knows what her role is and she plays it perfectly!!!! misa never says what she likes about him, only that he's perfect, the ideal statue to work towards and never attain but it's okay because that means she'll still get to be in his and his family's shadow anyway!!!!!!!

and kiyomi just ruins that mindset entirely! kiyomi doesn't need anything from her (canon kiyomi would very subtly flinch at you if you ever even suggested she did) and that's so fucking weird, what the hell is wrong with kiyomi, misa thinks

im a kiyomisa truther forever but i also do rotate remisa sometimes and i think half of why remisa doesn't work out reciprocated in canon is because like, misa cannot comprehend why rem just wants to protect her straight up, she keeps asking what rem's ulterior motives are in the bathroom scene, and rem is just like no i want to protect you. thats all. thats it. and misa fundamentally cannot fucking deal with thatttt but it's easier with kiyomi because at least she hates misa so she makes SOME sort of sense. theyre mutually obsessed with each other but kiyomi doesn't liiike misa that can't be it! thank god! her internal crisis is staved off for one more day

(— kiyomisa anon) (it probably didn't need clarifying but still)

YAHOO!!! YEAH!! she is so so lonely. a black hole is a good metaphor for misa amane. a black hole of a girl where identity and attachment are sucked in and dispersed on the event horizon, unreachable for ever and ever. i think that for misa to ever become a person with a stable sense of self and attachment she would have to be with someone who can support her and love her in a way she'll understand. this is not light yagami, who is a gay fascist, but quite possibly either L or kiyomi takada for very different reasons in my head. i love you remisa truthers but @ kiyomisa anon yes that is why i have a hard time envisioning them requited and mutual.

(lawmane voice) i think L is so inscrutably uninterested in her past her connection to the kira case because she really cannot do. anything for him. in any other field. that lawmane could be cute. also because L is a greedy and possessive thing and that would appeal to misa, who needs someone fuckass obsessed with her to cope.

(louder, kiyomisa voice) and then there's kiyomi takada, who, for all intents and purposes, understands exactly the pressure that misa amane is under. they are both celebrities, they're both women (with all the pressure that implies), they're both beautiful and sought after and searching for some higher thing to devote their lives to. i think that thing could be each other because kiyomi and misa dating would be objectively a bad thing for their images. you know. 2000s homophobia in japan. misa having to adjust to the fact that kiyomi wants to fuck her when it's kind of. not a "smart" choice. i think it would be a good brain exercise for her. it would also make her cry but at least she doesn't have to examine it right away!

[they-of-fixation]

Die Alone Together [Placeholder Name; DRAFT]

A Cult of The Lamb fic (my AU)

There I lay, crouched in the grass, clinging to myself desperately; falling, falling, falling... my mind miles below the soil in which I cowered. The moment I fell to my knees, there became of time this... dissonance, a rift between it and space, and though the ground caught me, I never quite stopped falling- falling away from myself, from this place, and into a memory; miles away from here, years, suspended in an unreachable past and yet frozen in the present. For my dissociation, I could hardly think but one thing:

I was too late.

They're all-

I could scarcely hear myself screaming, nor could I feel the tears stinging my cheeks, nor the burn in my lungs or the ache in my legs from the fighting; my body did not and does not feel like my own. I am not in it. Everything felt distant as I held myself, and as I drew the corpse of one of my own to my chest, I realized how far this place had become from my home.

'They're all dead.'

And I will never get them back.

I don't know how long I laid there for, but I do remember thinking myself damned to the same fate, trapped in the same place; that I'd die there, alongside my brethren, eventually- in some way. I couldn't bring myself to leave them, not even to stand, and had little reason to think anyone would find nor save me. I was alone in the depths of Darkwood, miles away from any living thing- who could possibly hear my crying? I could hardly hear myself, and any person who might would surely, in devotion to the Bishops of the Old Faith, to the Worm, Leshy, end my life.

That is, or so I thought.

There was movement, rustling, in the brush surrounding me, and I was suddenly aware of just how loud I had been mourning, and, consequently, of the fearful silence that followed- but I did not move. I was not frozen in fear, at least not completely, more I was complacent; maybe someone had heard me, and I was going to die here. In a way, I deserved to. Perhaps dying the same way my friends, my found family, had would honor them, perhaps it would free me.

So I stayed. I stayed right where I was, amongst the remains of my community and embracing the body, only turning my head up to look in the direction of the sound, to see my assailant and face them head-on, if only for a moment. I dared not stand nor speak, I just patiently awaited in trepidation whatever fate it'd be to befall me.

It was quiet again for a moment as I stared into the shadowed flora, but then, not only could I hear the crackling of leaves on the forest floor, I could see someone, something, moving towards me. I drew in a sharp, panicked breath despite myself and held it as I watched the cloaked figure step into the clearing and catch sight of me.

I could feel my breath hitch yet again as I made eye contact with what seemed to be a child, at least no older than me, donning the crown of my god, and... not just a child- at that, a lamb?

I knew my face betrayed me; I was never known for my poker face, and despite my position, now was no different. I could not hide my confusion, for it had been years since anyone had seen a lamb. I thought- as we all did- that the Bishops had caused their extinction. The lamb's eyes were dark, stoic- nearly expressionless, if not for the silent and subtle shock at the sight before them; had it been any darker, I would not have noticed. I stared back with exceptional surprise but equal intensity. I did not ask.

Neither did they.

"What is your name?" They spoke softly, their hooves visibly unarmed and reaching towards me in, be it genuine or not, seeming good manner, the bell clasped to their cloak jingling quietly with every step.

"What are you going to do with me?" I diverted; they were a lamb, a living lamb, likely the last of their kind- and better yet, their crown… not to mention that they held no weapon that I could see- but even so, after everything I had gone through, and they as well, I could not be certain of their intentions. It was not in my favor to let down my guard, not with such ease.

They blinked slowly, taking another step my way. "Be not afraid, I mean well. Did he," Their smile faltered, no gesture necessary. "do this?"

"...If you mean Leshy, then I suppose. At least, his following. I," I felt my brow furrow as I forced myself to speak through gritted teeth. "was not here to see."

"Ah."

"You didn't answer my question." My voice cracked; for my tears earlier, I could hardly speak. It was only then I realized that I had never let go of the body- and with this realization, instinctively, I pulled it closer to me.

"Nor did you answer mine."

A beat.

"Your name?"

"Oh. My name is..." My hesitance was not to save face, nor to deceive- I could give a false name to “protect” myself and hide my identity, but if this lamb were to kill me, pretending would do nothing to lengthen my life, it couldn't truly protect me- rather, I was weighing my options, deciding my fate in the only way I knew I could. To continue as I had, or-

I looked down at the doe clasped to my breast: her eyes, lifeless, and lips slightly parted by her final breath. “Fern. My name is Fern," I decided, to honor her, not a lie now that it'd been spoken, but not the truth. If they meant what they said, that they were not here to hurt me, maybe, just maybe, this would be my chance to start anew. I did not turn my head to the lamb again; I let my eyes flutter shut and my head hang low, loosening my grip on the carcass to hold her face in my claws.

“...And yours?"

I could barely choke the last two words out.

"Fern… a pretty name!" Their smile, so mellow, in stark contrast to the death around us, struck me- I could not decide whether it was comforting or off putting in the moment. Again, they reached out their hand. "You may call me Lamb.”

This time I did look up; I watched them cautiously, my eyes shifting from their outstretched hoof, which I still refused to take, to their face.

‘Just… “Lamb”?’ I thought to myself, but said nothing. The question, I decided, was one likely better left unspoken.

“Okay, Lamb- your turn.” I interjected, changing the subject, or at least trying to, for what time now I had lost count. “What do you plan to do with me? Why spare me and not just kill me already?”

“No one deserves to meet a violent end. You deserve to have a choice in the matter; I can't, however, deny having an ulterior motive,” their smile never faltered as my eyes burned a hole through their own. “Would you rather me kill you, or to run away and hide before I have the chance? Or rather, the most forgiving of your options, would you like-” they adjourned, their eyes glinting wildly, still holding contact with my own. “to join me?”

“...Join… you?”

“It isn't safe in Darkwood- though I needn't tell you that- and it isn't much safer in any other of the Bishops’ domains. I can offer you shelter; for a price, of course, but a small one. All I ask for is your loyalty, and your devotion- to me, and to my god.”

“You're asking me… to join your religion?”

“Offering, yes. I won't force you. It is your decision, after all- granted, it is the safest, and in my… qualified opinion, smartest choice of the three.”

“And if I decline?” A face on my behalf, more out of curiosity than defiance.

“Again, I won't force you. But would you truly rather die, or spend your life running, only to lose it to one of them in the end, than to stand by my side? A side you should, in theory, have no hard time taking?”

Any argument I could have made, not that I had one nor any intention of refusing (because what choice did I really have?), was instantly, with ease, brought to a screeching halt. Their honesty, their sharp words and rightful, righteous confidence shook me thoroughly, to my very core; that last statement, a confirmation of my only suspicion. They didn't ask, but they knew. I said nothing, but they knew, and when the realization of their admittance donned on my features, they were more than aware that I knew, too. It was like telepathy, a secret passed silently between us, fate drawing me in.

“I am tired of running.”

“Then? I’m giving you an opportunity you can't possibly refuse.” Their expression darkened, their smile, different now- more serious, more grave; the weight of my situation coming back to me once more, and hitting me like a freight train. “Take my hand and join me, join my cult. You will be safe in the commune, and you can take your life back into your own hands.”

And with this- I looked again from their hoof to their twisted smile and somehow, despite the ominous air about them, emanating from the red crown atop their head, I knew that I’d be safe, or safest, with them- I, reluctant to let go and with a final embrace, laid the doe down in a patch of softer looking grass, and took the Lamb's hand.

[lokorum]

1 and 31 for the bg3 ask game if youre still doing it!!

(i love ur art so much btw)

lovely anon, thank you for your ask!! sending you soooooo many hugs!! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ this question is like GOOD just GOOD 

but also theres a bit of spoilers about what orin did, be careful if you havent played yet!!

so! ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

31. does your character have new or old phobias or superstitions that affect their story? (31)

the most obvious one is ofc isa's fear of people which manifests in all wrong ways, like they barely talk to anyone, they often refuse to listen to someone's reasonable advice\suggestions, they're scared as hell of accidental skin contact, and they're generally very hard to be around. 

when i was coming up with their backstory, their connection to bhaal was the fundament on which everything else was built upon. who do i want them to be? what's their place in the world? why are they still alive when they struggle to see any meaning in life? 

it all came down to the point where i had to decide "what kind of relationship-dynamics isa have with bhaal?". and i just went with maybe a bit too dramatic option - bhaal really loves them, sees himself in them even. guides them in a way a knife guides a hand which holds it. and this twisted "love" deprived ise from normal life almost instantly. 

all ups and downs of being "a person", of growing up, meeting people, making and breaking connections, all mistakes, doubts and self-reflection was denied to them since the moment they killed their own "parents" and felt nothing about it, or worse - felt like it was the right thing to do. 

and so at the beginning of the game, they're not scared, they're terrified. orin not just "carved out" their memories - she destroyed the only connection isa had - connection to their god.

bhaal is selfish, egocentric, and as the creature that was shaped by violence - he is constantly, on the back of his mind, so scared of the things he himself embodies. he sees the world through broken pieces of himself which he barely manages to keep together, and so of course when he teached ise how to stay alive - he became their sole survival mechanism. he stained them with his blood. or maybe, in a way, he inseparably tied them together throught it.

ise are untouchable, unreachable for others, but endlessly dependent on bhaal. 

aaaaaaaaaand now its probably the best time to say that isa are not party leader. they are like a stray dog you know? walking in and out, helping here and there, creating a mess or cleaning it once in a while. my party leader is ☆*✲⋆gale☆*✲⋆, despite his very questionable jokes about hygiene phphph 

[kinetic-elaboration]

April 18: Raven/Octavia, Balcony

More from Make a Lot of Money and Feel Dead Inside. Pre-fic, though, and no spoilers.

~1,000 words, written in about 40 minutes

For the prompt "Location: Balcony" from my 2023 July Break Bingo card.

I was a little tired before I started this and now I'm... like falling asleep tired so I do not know about that.

*

The red-orange tiles of the balcony, baked all day in the sun, still retain most of their warmth even as the long fuse of the evening starts to burn itself out. Raven leans all the way back in the spindly silver chair that, one of two, with the spindly little table across from her, is the only furniture the narrow space will allow. The top of it cuts uncomfortably across one of her vertebrae. She wiggles her back slowly, trying to ease the sudden pain. She unsticks the soles of her bare feet from the tile, shifts them, lets them stick again to the hot, burnished surface. Slowly, inevitably, she feels like they're burning, the persistent seep of heat edging from pleasant, smooth, to searing.

Across the nearly still, heavy summer air, sharp shouts and discordant thumps waft up: a group of kids playing basketball in the court across the street. Lower: faint traffic sounds. This isn't a busy neighborhood. Each noise seems to slice through a greater silence.

She pulls up her feet again, walks them to the side, lets them fall. Sweat gathers on her upper lip.

Across from her, Octavia is leaning against the white bars of the balcony railing, reading the letter again. Her other arm, crooked at the elbow, rests on the railing behind her, and Raven watches, not her face, or the expression on it, but the fizzing of tiny, transparent bubbles up to the surface of the champagne in her glass. Octavia is standing with one foot on top of the other, unsteadily balanced—it looks like some sort of modified yoga pose. Raven can't imagine her doing yoga. She can't even imagine her trying.

"You must have that thing memorized by now," she says.

Octavia takes a sip of her champagne. The corners of her mouth are curled up, the same expression for a while now, as her eyes scan over the same line of text. "I like looking at that number," she answers. The advance for her book. It's not exactly the most impressive, as far as advances go. A modest first printing, tempered expectations. Still more than Octavia has ever seen in one place at one time before—both the money and the rest, the belief in her—more than Raven has ever seen either.

"It's a good number," Octavia adds.

Raven's been at the apartment now for five straight days. She leaves only to go to work. They are hermits together in her off hours; she can't think this more than idly—all the way in the back of her head, while the front preoccupies itself with tapping her fingers against the chair arms and watching the fading yellow sun, right before it shades out to periwinkle-blue between the buildings, light up the side of Octavia's face—that she's never fallen this fast for anyone before. Never wanted to untangle someone with her bare hands. Never been so utterly fascinated and so unable to explain to herself why.

How Octavia's focus can settle right on her, hold her, pin her unceasingly; how this is tempered with wide swaths of time when she's so distant she's unreachable; how her spikes of anger erupt on tight triggers and always fizzle out into dark and mysterious moods. Moments she won't explain. The why, the why, the why.

"Do you ever feel like you're just fucking blessed?" Octavia asks. The profanity's spit out like venom, a hard underline, the rest wistful and aching like prayer. "I'm not talking luck. I mean like—" She glances up, not as far as the heavens, to the tops of the buildings maybe, where they form sharp, square edges against the bleeding colors of the sky. "I mean like you've caught some kind of fire?"

Raven doesn't know what that means either. She flicks out her tongue to lick off her own sweat. "I don't really believe in that kind of thing," she answers.

An idle remark. Octavia raises her eyebrows at her. "Oh?" She sets her letter down on the little, round, white table, her champagne glass on top to keep it from blowing away, should the stagnant air be ruffled by any sort of breeze. "What do you believe in then?"

"Hard work," Raven says, shrugging as if it weren't obvious. "Myself."

Between them lies a space all of five footsteps long. Octavia measures it out with careful, deliberate steps—almost a straight line, her heel placed just beyond her toes. Her feet are bare, too, pale from the sneakers she wears all year round, marked tan at the ankle. Raven has a sudden image, of Octavia asking a lover who is not her to kiss them.

"What about me?" Octavia asks.

She’s stopped just in front of Raven, so that Raven has to tilt back in her seat just to catch the sharp, daring expression on Octavia's face. Like you've caught some kind of fire—does she think she's ablaze?

Octavia tips forward, her hands on the arms of Raven's chair. Raven covers them, grabs for the wrists with her own sharp grip, until she's not sure which one of them has caught the other, who has caged who in.

"I believe in you," she answers. It's not a lie and it's not breathing smoke; she doesn't mean it as an oath either but it comes out as one, like she's pledged something now in a way she'll never break. The way Octavia looks at her, she must know it, too. She leans in, lower, and kisses not Raven's mouth but the warm, sweat-salty skin of her neck.

A tiny sound escapes from between Raven's lips, and that's an oath and a promise, too.

When Octavia is on her knees, and the still-warm tile, smooth with borders of rough, gray grout between the squares, burns against her skin, Raven twists her fingers up in the long, loose strands of Octavia's hair, tilts her head back and bares her throat and opens her eyes to stare up at the streaked, slow-deepening blue of the sky.

[songsofbloodandwater]

Hey, how’re you? 13 and 12 for the asks

Hello! All good here, deeply enjoying the beginning of autumn and the much lower temperatures, how have you been?

12) what do you think your practice would taste like? If one could taste a magico-religious practice

Honestly, blood. Whatever blood can taste like. I've had moments where it's just metallic and asphyxiating, and others when it's pungent but peppery, almost floral.

I really wanted to say something normal, like bread, or milk, or some herbal tea. Or a passed down family recipe. I also thought of water and all that it represents to us. But realistically, it's just blood. I'm sorry if that answer is kind of predictable coming from me!

13) How does your craft feel in the spring vs in the darker months?

In my experience, the most tangible difference comes from the differences between Day Spirits, and Night Spirits. Traditionally, in my family, there's specific workings that we cannot do at night, the lack of sunlight means the Spirits that would be called are not the kind of spirits you'd want to call at all. This type of belief extends to seasons. Seasons stem from the natural changes in daylight hours available on Earth, and we see it as not just the plant life adapting to the colder months, but the spirits associated with the Land also adapting, hibernating, migrating (within this Realm or to other realms), or being in whatever way less available to us. Some, entirely unreachable.

In my opinion it's not that the Day and Night courts are "rotating" and one season or the other belongs entirely to one or the other court. It's simply that in the darker months the tangible presence of the Night Court becomes most prevalent, dominant, due to the absence of most of the Day Court, and viceversa. But they're always coexisting to varying degrees.

In my family that means we begin the warm months in August-September, awakening and feeding the earth and then slowly welcoming back the different allies and relatives of my spirit family throughout the next spring and summer months, as they come and as we get to spend time with them. It reaches a peak in December, with Solar festivities. Then starts to decline again throughout the next months, until we reach the "Lunar" peak, and the weakest moment of the Sun and Day court, in June with the Longest Night of the year. My seasonal calendar isn't just depending on daylight hours, but also on the apparent cycles of certain sacred constellations across the sky, so throughout the year I'm paying attention to Them and working with each as they come and go aswell, for example, the Southern Cross's rotation marks some special dates for me in regards to the fertility of the Land and to the Beloved Dead, or the Pleiades appearing and disappearing, carrying messages and omens, bringing with them certain Spirits and their influence, and taking them away as they go.

It feels like a family reunion that lasts months instead of hours. When people just start arriving, when there's feast and stories and sharing and warmth, and then everyone starts saying their goodbyes again, until next year. Summer is the height of the party. Winter is the only time of the year that reflects what you'd normally imagine from everyday family life, when it's just me and the Spirits that walk with me, that "live with me in that house", so to speak. In practicality, that means more outwards work during the warmer months (in relation to the Land and Spirits that are tied to different kinds of cyclical natures), more inwards work and "housekeeping" of my own courts during the cold dark months. There's still some work to do with perennial spirits during the winter (for example, La Dolorosa and The Wild King, and their respective courts, are mostly unaffected by the seasons) but it's still a smaller workload in general when in comparison to the warm months.

Hope that makes sense! thanks for asking these were fun!

[lmskitty]

Hello.... What do you think are Gojo and Getou’s greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why? What do you love about their dynamic? Thanks if you want to answer....

Oh man thank you for the ask!!

This is super interesting. I think Gojo's weakness is clearly Geto, I mean seeing "him" again landed him sealed, Kenjaku knew that and used it against him. I think in terms of strength it's easy to see his physical ability as his key strength but I think in reality his strength lies in his resilience and responsibility. It says a lot that the loss of him put the entire world particularly the sorcerer's, in disarray, he's lived through some horrific events and seen the worst in humanity and could go crazy with that kind of power but chooses instead to eat sweets, have a laugh and keep going. Striving to protect others and keep surviving is a huge strength.

For Geto a key weakness I think was his mindset, he truly saw the world a specific way and when events happened that threw all of that out of balance I think it broke him. All his goals are based around the dichotomy of opposites rather than seeing things for how they are. Sorcerers Vs humans, strong Vs weak. The world is neither good nor bad it just is and I think he struggled to reconcile that. I think his strength lies in his loyalty though and his love. His technique involves digesting the worst of humanity but he raised his girls, asked Gojo to make sure his family was ok at the end and got emotional at the idea of sorcerers looking after each other. He wanted to create a world where a death like Riko or Haibara wouldn't happen. It's just tragic really. He was so kind before Toji.

As for their dynamic I love everything about them but to pick something specifically I love how they complete each other and make each other better. Gojo before Geto (the moments we see of him as a child) are sullen, angry and alone but when he's with Geto he's so full of life and love. His smile is infectious. Geto brings him down to earth and helps him feel human and not just "the honoured one" untouchable and unreachable. I think Geto probably feels disgusted and alone a lot of the time dealing with such a brutal technique and forced to swallow and consume horrible curses that we know from his description taste awful but Gojo makes him laugh, gives him a break from it and a reminder to not be so serious. Gojo brings out the joy in Geto and Geto brings out Gojo's humanity.

Also they're both like super hot goddamn. And the way Suguru says his name like they've been married for a million years and he left his keys at home again and not like beating up a guy, just cracks me up. I think I have a severe fondness too because they're the same age I was when I fell in love with my best friend who is now my husband of 14 odd years and our dynamic then was quite similar. I was a student librarian and he used to come in and take the piss out of me for being a nerd (before eventually also becoming a student librarian so he could spend more time with me) so it makes me feel nostalgic 😅 and I'm a huge sucker for a relationship built on love and laughter.

Thank you so much for the ask!

[bittenmoths]

CLOYNE FILES — RAFAEL VELAZQUEZ.

˗ˏˋ 𓂃 ( danny ramirez. cis man. he/him ). meet rafael velazquez, a 30 year old, who has been in cloyne for his whole life. they are a tattooist / owner at blackest ink, known for being equanimous and woolgathering. they are often heard humming along to everything in its right place by radiohead. residents would describe them as the quixotic. ( james, 25, they/them, est )

content warnings for... drunk driving, car accident, familial death, grief, traumatic brain injury, anxiety, dissociation.

profile.

full name — rafael amaya velaquez.

nickname(s) — raf, rafa, velaquez.

place of birth — cloyne, ontario, canada.

date of birth & age — july 15th, 1994. thirty.

gender / pronouns — cis man, he/him.

sexuality — bisexual.

occupation — owner and tattoo artist at blackest ink.

astrology — cancer sun, libra moon, scorpio rising.

residence — a small apartment on the west - end of town; all brick walls and busted heaters; dozen of knitted blankets and coffee wafting through the air, clinging to the fabric. comfortably cluttered and warm - toned, it feels like a proper home.

interests — ink drawings and paint markers; poorly made ceramics. the smell of a sterile work station; mindless sketches. stretching, sometimes just to show off faded but well - loved ink. dungeons and dragons; mysticism as a concept. high fantasy, comfort in a well - crafted world. reading, though he wishes he did it more often. huddling beneath a pile of blankets in the middle of winter; star - gazing. herbal teas with just a touch of honey. the scent of fresh laundry, cloves, roses. helping others where he can. cooking, but especially for others; and especially old family recipes. journaling, keeping notes; trying to regain a sense of purpose - feeling normal. ice cold beer and a pack of cigarettes, the occasional joint. loud music; the riff of a guitar. the feeling of one in his hands. love, found in the faces of everyone he's ever known. love, as a concept. love, as something unreachable.

aversions — mentions of his brother; a wound still so fresh, so red, a mark upon his entire being. acknowledging the lingering stares of his parents, and wondering if they wish he were someone else. excessive selfishness, when survival means only sacrifice. empty gestures and meaningless words; promises he can't keep. lying, though he can't help it. grinding his teeth together ( wears a night guard to bed ). laying awake for hours at a time, just staring at the ceiling; no thoughts, but sleep too far in the distance. thinking about only himself. being a burden. geese, god help him. replacing old clothes that reek of nostalgia; forever condemned to a lifetime of sewing buttons back onto sleeves, patchwork over holes. .

quirks — rolls his knuckles over a flat surface in order to crack them. nails bitten raw and short. frequently caught staring at the sky, entranced by the clouds - wishing he could touch them. notes app full of the things the people he cares about enjoy, or dislike; so he never gets it wrong. gives too much of himself, even when it hurts. never knows when to say no.

most played — everything in its right place by radiohead.

notable features — an old, cracking leather jacket he refuses to part ways with and a mess of curls well - cared for. an expanse of tan, tattooed flesh that stretches over bone and muscle; always peaking beneath hemlines.

general disposition — a bright, well - lit smile and shoulders that seem only sometimes heavy. dim - lit eyes, and a small sigh of relief whenever eyes turn away from him.

character study — ponyboy curtis ( the outsiders ) & james wilson ( house m.d. ).

public records.

the velazquez' have lived in cloyne for generations, rafael and his family no exception to that. his parents are both teachers, high school and elementary, and their family was as nuclear as it came. two parents, two kids, a dog; a white picket fence ( or damn well near enough ).

they're good people, well - respected in town. rafael and his twin brother, joaquin get into trouble from time to time; but only minor things, nonconsequential. kids being kids. they're close, growing up, as close as they can be. it's an ordinary childhood; but one filled with warmth and light, and life.

the only notable dispute that rafael and joaquin ever had were their positions in life; rafael's smart, but he's always been more practical, more artistically inclined. joaquin was valedictorian - there's a craving deep inside him for a life outside the one they know in cloyne. he wants to leave, rafael wants to stay; he can't imagine a life without his brother, but he can't imagine a life where he leaves cloyne either.

joaquin moves soon after; away from cloyne, and away from rafael. it's a loneliness that he's never felt before; one that eats at him. it's not long before he's visiting joaquin at college every other month. it's a long drive - but it's worth it. he's his twin; it would always be worth it.

drunk driving / car accident / familial death; one weekend away, one visit to joaquin's college nearing his graduation, and they're driving home too late, too drunk from the party they've just left. rafael knows they should call an uber, a taxi, a friend, anybody, but joaquin insists - it's fine; they've driven the same length of road so many times before. it's fine. it's fine, he says. rafael sees the other car before he does - joaquin doesn't see anything at all. he dies on impact.

grief; it's weird, mourning someone you've known all your life. grown up next to. their parents are beside themselves - blame themselves for joaquin's death more than they blame rafael. their relationship's never the same - but cloyne is home, where else would he go? the grief is heavy, all - consuming; rafael breaks up with his long - term partner at the time, and for a while there - it's like he's nothing more but a ghost.

he doesn't think time can ever heal the wound he feels, so viscerally - but little by little, time does pass. it does move - his parents warm up to him again, and he can breathe a little easier. he rebuilds his life - comes into ownership of the local tattoo shop; and it's been peace since - until lorelai walsh.

disposition & details.

a lover by all means; loves his friends and his family deeply, and when he does fall, he falls hard. quiet, but charming; kind. the boy next door, all grown up. he would do anything to protect the people he loves.

will always go out of his way to help someone in need; whether it's a ride home after they've drank too much, or they need somewhere to stay - or they just want someone to accompany them on errands - rafael's the first one to the door, the first one to call. never asks anything in return - never asks much for himself. a lifetime of brotherhood's left him more than willing to share what he has of his own.

grief; he knows he's not at fault for the accident that claimed his brother's life; but there's guilt in the survival of it all. he would turn back time just to switch their roles, just so joaquin could have the life he wanted. it's made him quieter, less enthused than he used to be - and it's not for lack of trying. years ago, he was angry; now he's defeated - stuck knowing that nothing could bring his twin back.

traumatic brain injury; the accident left rafael with a significant brain injury that effects his ability to hold and process memories; over the course of the years, his ability to retain past information has improved - but there's a constant struggle to remember the new. it's overwhelming, overpowering; it's terrifying.

anxiety / dissociation; appears naturally laidback - a quiet confidence; but anxiety lingers beneath his skin. he doesn't talk about his mental health often, or the things that consume him, the dissociative state he finds himself in more often than not. it's better this way, he thinks. ultimately self - sacrificing; by putting others at a constant first, he's only hurting himself.

not someone who beats around the bush; but he's gentle all the same. it's not tough love, just - love. despite any worries - he's never afraid to speak up, speak out; voice his concerns for others. stubborn, sometimes; he doesn't drop topics, even when they make him sick with worry, with fear, with anxiety. is someone who has to talk it through to the end, or else he can't sleep, can't function. can't live.

a better person to sit in silence with in quiet comfort than be offered advice; he falters, sometimes, because how can he give advice that he himself doesn't follow? tries nonetheless, but he's never been much of a motivational speaker.

cares deeply about his profession, his craft - the work he does. doesn't tattoo as often as he used to, before becoming the owner of blackest ink; but he'll make time for others, when they ask. his work is still precise, near methodical; laced with years - long practice and love. it's just that he's also handling the business side of things, the finances. he's constantly sinking under, but trying to remain afloat.

wanted.

the long term ex — it's been maybe six years now since they've broken up, with little to no warning or explanation on rafael's side. loose ends, and unanswered questions - things he still avoids to this day. why?

childhood friends — without them, he'd be lost; he needs people to anchor onto, to keep him from floating away. they've known him, his family, all their lives.

something more — he's always so hesitant, so afraid of messing something up; they're not sure where they stand, or what exactly they mean to each other. but it's - something, right?

clients, neighbors - people he's grown up around, but aren't necessarily his closest friends. family friends. enemies from youth; unresolved conflicts. exes, friends of joaquin's.

[byfulcrums]

I think your so on the money on ur thoughts on how would a “YJWally is JLU!Wally” would handle Clark is like the ultimate “oh no this authority figure who seemed unreachable is now a person who is my peer” feeling because yes, I totally agree with your assessment that the OG team would have mixed feelings on superman (pre season 2) and Wally would look at this Clark like hmm…but I think that’s what this idea is missing in the grand scheme of things seeing that shift for Wally internally, seeing him changing his thoughts on these people he used to know in another context become something different. Like I for one, would love to see a fic dedicated to Wally and the JL show league original seven building their bond that it almost makes him forget what the others were like we cannot forget that for instance, JLU superman really wanted to kill lex (and did in one universe) for seemingly killing Wally and Wally broke into tears when Clark showed up again after HE thought was to have died. He also told Clark to smile more sweetie and stop being an ass during the whole brainiac/Cadmus arc. The relationships between the JLU original seven make me so feral

What you said! Yes!!!

Tbh I personally think that the team is still somewhat bitter about Clark's relationship with Conner, including Wally. But bitter as in “Will make fun of you and mention it all the time to annoy you”, not “I'm actually angry about this”

Wally knows that Conner and Clark are in good terms now and while he's spent a lot of time shitting on Clark with the rest of the team because that's what friends do when they find out you have a complicated relationship with your parents, he still accepts it and is totally supportive of them

However, this doesn't mean that he won't be salty with Supes over it. The whole team is

And also yeah, I would pay to see Wally's view on the JL after the dimension travel

He first viewed them as heroes. So high and unreachable; he basically worshipped them, as any other little kid did

Then, he thought of them as celebrities. Famous people with money that can be assholes but can also be the kindest people in the world

And when he discovered Barry was the Flash, some of them even became family! But only some, because after forming the team, most of the members became his friends' parents or relatives

But then he ‘died’ and appeared in another whole universe where not only did the Justice League not even exist, both his uncle and him were dead and Hal, not having Barry, wasn't even living in earth anymore!

And that's when things start to get complicated. Because he takes his dad uncle's name, wears his suit and becomes him, in a way. He takes the name of Flash and starts going out to be a superhero because Central City needs a speedster there

So when he, along with the others, forms the Justice League... well. Things are awkward

He can no longer view them as his friends's relatives. He can't even think of them as heroes. Now, they're actual people to him. They aren't celebrities anymore, they're friends. He's watched them doubt themselves, cry, laugh, get angry just like how he did with his old team and he just can't not view them as people now

And I personally believe that he avoids thinking about it as much as he can, but when he's left alone with his thoughts he can't help but remember that he used to call some of them aunt and uncle and now he's calling them coworker or sister or brother or friend

And he tries to remember what the old versions of them he used to know were like only to find that he can't remember them. Like, can't remember them at all

Now, when he thinks of Green Lantern, he doesn't think of Uncle Hal anymore, he thinks of John Stewart. The versions of them he used to know were slowly replaced by his now coworkers and friends

He can't remember. And now he's worrying that he might forget his old family friends too

[katyspersonal]

18 for Gehrman and 22 & 25 for Laurence!

(Asks from this ( x ) meme)

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

We only really have Laurence, Maria, Doll and Moon Presence because whereas Willem, Djura, Eileen and Ludwig are addressed there is so much to headcanon about them that it probably evades "in canon" category... :') I really love the depth and the sadness of both his bonds with Maria and Laurence, regardless of whether they're romantic or platonic. I am a little antsy that they've left some lines suggesting a much deeper bond with Laurence in cut content realm, but I am reusing everything I physically can, sooooo xD

There is also Paleblood Hunter which I love to think is sort of reincarnation of Laurence ( x ), but this one, again, either falls back into Laurence category or there isn't enough to develop during just one night.. 🤔 Final product suggests that Gehrman loves all hunters equally, including us, which is still sweet!

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to this character? Something you don't like?

Hahaha, tough luck, I only read fanfics from either 1) people that are unreachable and would never interact with the fandom or 2) people I trust deeply as friends! Reading fanfics became way too important emotional experience for me to mentally manage feeling rejected by the writer as a person. But in the AU where I am a normal person without such deep insecurities, I say everything regarding his story is good! Byrgenwerth era where he only starts picking interest in holy blood? Good. Early Healing Church? Good. His last days where he can't save himself anymore? Good. Whatever time of his life you take will be interesting, because HE is interesting! I definitely adore how Laurence is included in your fanfic, both his personality and his actions!

I do not know the state of Bloodborne fanfics well enough to judge, so I think my general turn-off applies; romantic/sexual fanfics that have such little character-specific or lore-specific context that if you detach the characters from the source material no one will notice! Good ship fanfic is the one that specifically applies to these characters, not just a random fantasy with their names attached! Easiest cheat with this problem is having characters reminiscise or address some prior events in canon, especially if they led to... uhhhh, the """interaction""", but really, there are various ways to bind them to the setting 🤔

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

YEEEEES YES GOOD QUESTION!!!! My first exposure to Bloodborne cast was getting recommended a compillation of boss themes with images attached on Youtube, so I just saw a BW image of his beast form without any context paired with his theme. For some reason I thought he was some wise, serious, dignified monster found (fought?) somewhere in library-like place, and that he could talk too!

I was yet to discover how feral this form of him really was, or that he even used to be a human to begin with! I thought this videogame just had monsters x) Now I am also aware how dirty his hands are, when I thought he was a morally grey character until [player] would disturb him for some reason. He is very complex and deep. Love him for that, but the guy is so heavy that memeing about him is easier dfshfhds But I was right on the money with 'dignified librarian dad' impression, after all! *spoon-feeds you my "Laurence is a son of Cainhurst librarian and quite a bookworm in general" speculation for 700th time*

^^^ This is also the closest I can get to my first mental image of his human form after I've learned he had one and was a scholar in Byrgenwerth! You can see dark hair and buttchin were always there, but he used to have green eyes and less facial hair... Also his glasses were exclusively for reading. And he was tall and less "cute". I agree the "handsome" beta Laurence is a bit better than my final product <:3 He feels more... laurence-y xD If I am to ever create something 'serious' for Bloodborne, like maybe a large comics, I might roll back to this image more, but for now it is all little kitten Laurence for me.

Thank you for asking!