#or the similar name is literally just a coincidence

[pianokantzart]

Okay okay! !!! What if!!! .... What if Wario's background in the Movie-Verse is a reverse-isekai.

Wario's a prolific swindler who's been banned from more kingdoms than he can count. After his hundreth failed scam his long-time partner (soon-to-be Waluigi) ditches him, and Wario is left at the end of his rope and a little exhausted with the whole rigamarole.

Then he takes a wrong turn in a busted warp pipe and ends up in Brooklyn. He looks around at the abrasive behavior, streets littered with garbage, advance-fee loans, phishing scams... rental escalation... minimum wage rates... health insurance... and is like "oh, these are my people!!!"

He quickly makes himself at home and becomes fast acquainted with the ins and outs of underhanded business. At first he attempts to hide his physical differences, but soon decides to make his odd appearance part of his branding as he builds his own companies upon the fine line between "legal" and "illegal." Every so often he'll visit his old world to try out some of the "tricks" he's learned until one day, inevitably, he and Mario end up crossing paths.

[luxuriantegg]

2am here but. against all odds. I am gripping tight to my dumbass completely unfounded theory that Ruby is a Rose/Tentoo kid SOMEHOW . and IDK HOW. doesn’t make sense. but it makes sense…… to me :’)

[masqueradeoftheguilty]

still cant believe genshin dropped the wings of concealing snow in ver 1.2, which very explicitly mention diluc and then never brought it up ever again

[mewtwoandme]

I was hoping this would all blow over, but since it's continuing to happen, now with people attacking other artists of the commewnity. I'm putting out my two fucking cents! Cause this whole art/character theft and pointing fingers, who stole what from who bullshit it driving me up the fucking wall!!

Long story short, it started with me and one other blog whose name I won't mention publicly. Despite the horrible light they tried to paint me in, I don't want anyone going to this person and ganging up on them. This person had some serious bitterness towards more "popular" artists and claimed that I've made characters similar to theirs and once used a pose they apparently used before (which was a very common pose, considering it was a reference from the game version of mega Y). Since then, they had desperately tried to conjure up evidence, narrowing down to the most miniscule detail how I've been stealing from them when I hadn't even known their blog existed until I was forcefully thrown into that unnecessary drama with the unhinged call-out posts they've made. With this being said, I'd like to point out that they never came to me or addressed this concern with me in the first place. They had every opportunity to privately DM me if they had suspected I was "stealing," but no, simply because they already made up their mind that I was a thief, that was a good enough reason to lack common fucking sense and decency, making what should have been a private issue public, going on to villainize and dehumanize me. And apparently, it hasn't stopped with me either, cause recently I've been seeing other artists in the community having to deal with this where people are being white knights on high horses, pointing fingers on how one artist's mewtwo looks "the same" if not "totally identical" as another artist's mewtwo. I refuse to believe it's a coincidence. But what makes me disgusted is that since TC's post, apparently it's had the opposite effect on some people and they're hopping on this blame bandwagon like it's some damn media trend!!!

This is NOT okay! Nothing about this kind of behavior is funny! It's upsetting to all of us. We dont need you causing problems where there isn't any, thinking you're doing us a favor! The majority of us are adults for gods sake! We are old enough where we don't need other people coming to us being tattle tails saying this person did this and that. That's what little children do! If you suspect any form of theft, I think I speak for ALL creators in this commewnity that we'd prefer you DM us privately saying something like "Hey, I think this person is copying you, might wanna look into it." And if possible, provide a link to the art in question, for which we would kindly thank you for making us aware and we'll handle it ourselves from there. Just a brief, yet SIMPLE interaction...that's all we ask!!! Don't even come at me with "Well, it's scary attempting to talk to an artist that's well known." Or dare I say ~pOpUlAr~ If you claim that taking the first step to send me a quick DM makes you nervous, yet you have no problem making public call outs in posts or asks, belittling and degrading what could actually be innocent artists doing nothing wrong, literally leaving yourself open to all kinds of comments and opinions from all kinds of people....I'm sorry but your anxiety isn't as bad as you say it is then, if being rude and ignorant in a public post/ask is easier for you. If you come to us, shaming someone else who 9/10 probably isn't doing anything wrong, thinking you'll be in our good graces for doing so, sorry, you're not going to be told, "Good job!" with a pat on the back and given a lollipop! You're just being an asshole.

Quick reality check for everyone who's made it this far before I end this train wreck of a rant:

People can have similar ideas that coincide with one another! There's only so much you can do when a whole community is focused around drawing the same character! We mainly draw mewtwos and mews, you're bound to find a plethora of similar colors, patterns, and designs because of it! Creativity only goes so far when trying to stay true to a character and not stray too far. It's not a crime to take inspiration from other artists' characters, we actually encourage this! It makes us feel good that you liked something we've done and you want to incorporate it into your own designs! It makes us happy that we inspired you! The line is crossed when someone does a literal copy/paste of a character down to the exact detail, and they call it their own original creation. That my friends is what stealing actually is!

[obscure-entity]

your shading is AMAZING specially when its conveying organic forms..... do you have any tips for people who dont know wrf going on (with shading)

ok so HI. hi. my old tutorial pisses me off so i will make a new one

i made a guy whose sole purpose is to be shaded so dont worry he likes it. and his name. his name will be mr. Boob. mr boob does not have to be blue

theres probably way better explanations of how to do it but unfortunately trying to "emulate" shading does ask you to somewhat understand ur character in a 3d way. like what would the 2d shape be if you "sliced" it? mr boob is made of so many circles. his tail also does a kind of weird perspective foreshortening thing because its pointing at you. is this being conveyed

you obviuously dont have to draw a horrendous grid on your characters skin to do this . BUT it helps you put down (or at least envision) the lines of the form shading :

dont worry about cast shadows or the shading color because this is FORM SHADOW time only. think about what surfaces of the character are obviously facing away from the light source and put down the "separation line" of the shading based on that. thr most important thing is that youre trying to separate light from dark

im going to pick the first one for cast shadows bc it will be the most obvious to me

ok so. his ears and snout are blocking other surfaces of his body from the light, which means a shadow is cast!!!! bam. i saw someone describe cast shadows as what the light's pov "can't see." his entire body is putting down a cast shadow on the ground too

im impatient so i blended the form shadows now. its usually the easiest to just NOT blend cast shadows as a way of conveying that they are still cast shadows. but you can still blend them if you want to show "distance" between the obstruction and the surface its blocking. but its just a way of saying form and cast shadows should not be treated the same even if their softness coincides

im going to lump reflection and ambient light together because theyre like. similar. reflections dont just happen in mirrors

since the sky is blue, making the ambient lighting, i tinged mr. boobs existing shadow to be a bit blue. (*this is kind of important because it can help you decide a shading color, which should USUALLY be based on the environment) (unless your character is just in the transparent void then it doesnt matter)

since the ground is pink, i made pink light bounce off of him. pointed and labelled. i dont rlly know how to go more in depth than that

contact shadows are literally shadows formed from direct-touching contact. very little light can reach in there, even from how reflections disperse, which means youre free to use the darkest color available (black). in this case mr. boob is making contact with the floor. because he is sitting on the floor.

i touched him up a bit and wow!!!!!!!!!! look at mr. boob!!! he is so beautifully sculpted.

and one more thing

thats right. i made mr boob PINK. hes fucking ruined now. just kidding i would never say that to him

what im trying to convey here (its the easiest with really light colors) is a transitional color. this can also show subsurface scattering depending on how you use it which is fun to look at. the mistake i made on my last tutorial was "Just pick a warm saturated color!" which is really wrong in examples like Blue mr boob. because it would be weird to use a warm color to transition from blue to blue.

if you have a character that isn't bright enough then obviously the shadows wont be as visible. its BEST to bring more attention to highlights and reflections to reveal the form a bit. they play the biggest role with darker colors

thats all i can think of. fun things to look up:

structuralization + contour lines + foreshortening etc. 3d lingo

form shadows

cast shadows

ambient light

contact shadows

subsurface scattering

im also just speaking out of my ass otherwise. i didnt look up any of these terms until the end now im inferring and hoping i got them right

and remember every time you shade mr boob will be rooting for you

[weird-is-life]

Hello loves! I really enjoy your writing and perhaps if it’s make sense could you please wrote about Aaron x Ex!Reader requited love? If you can’t it’s fine, have a nice day!<3

Hi lovely, ty for the request💕! I don't know if this is what you had in mind, but hopefully it's at least a little good, warnings: fluff, angsty, use of pet name, like one swear word (0.8k)

It was a complete coincidence, that you bumped into Aaron. You literally bumped into him, your face colliding with his chest and by some miracle you didn't spill the tea, you'd just bought all over his expensive suit.

Aaron was just as surprised to see you as you were. And he couldn't understand the weird feeling in his chest at the sight of you.

You had a similar feeling too, a breath catching at your throat as you were looking up at his handsome, slightly older than you could remember, face.

And you don't even know why, maybe it was the shock of the whole situation or maybe it was something else in you, that made you do it, but somehow you invited him out for a coffee.

And that one coffee turns into two, then three, then four, until you loose count of them and until you're spiraling back into those old, forgotten feelings.

The realisation of it takes you by a huge surprise. You weren't expecting it. It scares you, that you're feeling this way again.

You like Aaron, but you know that Jack is his priority and he probably isn't looking for a relationship, he has enough on his shoulders already.

So with every friendly coffee date your feelings grow stronger and you can't help but to worry about it. You like having Aaron back in your life, a lot actually, but you don't think you could survive being just his friend, it feels impossible.

So in your worried state, you stop responding to Aaron's texts. Yes, you know, it's not the best way to cut contact with somebody, but you don't think you'd have the strength to explain the why to him.

Aaron goes completely crazy with worry over you. You suddenly just stop responding and he doesn't know if it's because of something he did or because something's happened to you.

He hopes, it's neither.

He tries not to fret over it, but eventually the feelings get the best of him and he finds himself standing in front of your door. He stands there longer than he should, before he finally knocks.

You appear at the door just a moment later and noticing, that it's Aaron at your door, your eyes widen.

"Aaron? What are you doing here?" you debate whether you should just close the door on him and pretend to not exist.

"I'm sorry to barge in on you like this, but....I had to make sure, you were okay. You weren't responding to any of my texts." Aaron explains, his relief, at seeing that you're okay, is huge.

You don't look as happy as he does, you look like you'd rather be anywhere else, but there.

"I'm sorry," you mumble, you don't know what more to say to him, so you keep quiet and look everywhere but him.

"I'm just glad, that you're okay," he says and you almost wince, you didn't think of how much you must have scared him with the no responding, poor Aaron.

"But what's wrong?" he asks, trying to catch your gaze.

"I-I-I....I just can't do this anymore," you whisper with sorrow.

"Can't do what, huh?" Aaron asks softly, even if he's loosing his mind.

"This. Us. I-I just can't, I'm sorry," you take one look at Aaron's crushed and confused face, before your gaze is back on the ground.

Aaron baffles, he's thought, that you had a good thing going on," Did-Did I do something wrong?"

"No, it's just....," you can't find the courage to tell him the reason why.

"What's wrong?" Aaron takes a small step towards you without thinking, he's desperate to fix whatever it is going on. He likes you and he's finally let himself to feel something like this again with you, so he is super anxious about this whole situation right now.

You sigh and irrationally, you just blurt it out, "I like you, a lot, like too much, Aaron. And-and I'd love for us to be friends again. But I don't think I could survive being just your friend. I know, you're definitely not looking for a relationship right now. And I understand, but I can't just be your friend. I'm sorry."

Aaron lets you say all of your thoughts before he reacts. Halfway through your speech his confused frown turns into a smile. Because he realises, that it's just a huge misunderstanding.

"Good," Aaron's says with a smile and now you're the one being confused. What the hell does Aaron mean 'good'? You start to almost get upset before he continues.

"Good, because I don't think I could be just your friend either," he actually grins at you.

You immediately look up at him,"what?"

"I like you too, honey. And I'm definitely looking for a relationship, if it means I get to be with you," Aaron couldn't be looking at you with more heart eyes and you think, you might melt.

"Really?" you ask shyly, too scared that you're imagining this whole thing.

"Yes, really," Aaron chuckles and reaches out for your hand," so what do you say, will you give me, us a second chance after all these years?"

Aaron doesn't have to wait for an answer for too long, because your lips are on his in a matter of seconds, answering his question clearly.

[emilystheories]

The Throne of Glass world no longer exists.

It was destroyed by the Asteri to create Midgard.

[Spoilers for Throne of Glass, ACOTAR, and Crescent City]

Many thousands of years ago, and prior to the Asteri's invasion of Midgard, there existed another civilisation. Part of this civilisation lived in a place called Parthos.

More specifically, when asked what the Crescent City world was before the Asteri's reign, Tharion noted that "ancient humans and their gods dwelled here."

An exact description of the Throne of Glass world.

Interestingly, despite the Crescent City books mentioning other continents (such as Pangera), readers are only given a map of Lunathion.

This is particularly strange, as all other SJM books have provided a full world map.

So, why would this be hidden for Crescent City...?

As such, I theorise that Midgard is actually the Throne of Glass world; hence why a full map has not yet been revealed.

Thus, I believe that following the events of Kingdom of Ash, some years later, the Asteri showed up and destroyed their world. The result of this was the creation of Midgard, and subsequently Lunathion - the world Bryce inhabits today.

The Timeline.

Evidently, this theory suggests that the timeline between the ACOTAR, CC and TOG worlds are not simultaneous, but rather that Throne of Glass occurred in the past - many thousands of years ago.

When considering this possibility, some rebut that this cannot be possible, as Aelin fell through worlds - right past Velaris and Lunathion. However, there is nothing to suggest that Aelin didn't also fall through time.

In fact, there are a multitude of hints throughout the various SJM books to suggest that time travel, or time manipulation, is indeed possible:

When the Asteri lured people into Midgard, it is said they offered a hand through "space and time."

The Harp, when used, can transport people through "space and eons." In fact, the 26th string is time itself - but what happens when a full melody is played?

Merrill straight up suggests that all of the worlds overlap - sharing the same space, but are separated by time. Almost as if it suggests that ACOTAR, CC and TOG are in the same 'world,' but manifestations of differing time periods; the past (TOG), the present (ACOTAR), and the future (CC).

Most importantly, when Bryce lands in Prythian, she starts to wonder if she had travelled in time; or, if this new world occupies a different time period (the exact concept that Merrill just suggested...)

Further, in her most recent interview, SJM was asked whether time travel would play a part in future books. SJM mysteriously replied, "no spoilers."

Thus, if this theory is correct, and Throne of Glass is indeed set in the past, then it is perhaps no coincidence that "Midgard" is the Norse name for "Earth."

And that "Terrasen" means "Old Earth."

Parthos.

As previously mentioned, a portion of the civilisation that used to inhabit Midgard (and as this theory suggests, the TOG characters) resided in an ancient city called Parthos.

As readers, we are first offered a glimpse of Parthos when Apollion takes Bryce to a "dream world" - a landscape in which the Great Library of Parthos used to be.

When in this dream world, Bryce notes that what remains of Parthos is a "DUSTY plain."

Interestingly, in the ACOTAR world, the Bone Carver mentioned that the world he (and his siblings) came from is now nothing more than "DUST drifting across a plain."

As the Bone Carver mentions this, Feyre notes that he draws three interlocking circles into the ground.

This is the exact symbol of Bryce's Archesian necklace - which is also the symbol of Parthos.

If this theory is correct, then the Bone Carver originated from Parthos - from the Throne of Glass world.

Considering the similarities between the Bone Carver and the Sin Eater (the absent God-like being in the TOG world who quite literally carved bones, and was known as the 'God of Truth')... it makes perfect sense.

However, the most telling clue of all, that connects everything together, is this;

Knowing that Parthos is referred to as a "dusty" plain, consider Rowan's words to Aelin:

"I love you. There is no limit to what I can give to you, no time I need. Even when this world is a FORGOTTEN WHISPER OF DUST between the stars, I will love you."

Why would the world Aelin and Rowan inhabit ever turn into a "forgotten whisper of dust"? Just like Parthos?

Because IT IS Parthos.

It is the world the Asteri destroyed to create Midgard.

Asteri Archives.

As even further proof, recall that when Bryce entered the Asteri's archive rooms at the end of CC2, she found notes on how Midgard came to be.

These notes stated that the "indigenous life was not sustainable" for the Asteri.

If this theory is correct, this suggests that the "indigenous" lives were the Throne of Glass humans, and that they did not possess enough magic (or first-light) to feed the Asteri.

We already know this is true, as it was a similar problem that the Valg previously faced.

Additionally, on the exact same page of the notes that detail the Asteri's invasion of Midgard, there is a sketch of both a wolf shifter, and a mer.

The wolf shifters and the mer are the two species confirmed to be the Throne of Glass fae.

So, it begs the question; why were the Throne of Glass fae explicitly mentioned on the Asteri's Midgard (pre-colonisation) notes...?

The Southern Continent.

If Midgard is built on the ruins of the Throne of Glass world, then I believe that Lunathion is situated on the Southern Continent (the setting of the TOG book, Tower of Dawn).

More specifically, as Lunathion is said to be modelled after an "ancient city," I believe it is modelled after the famed Southern Continent City - Antica.

In Tower of Dawn, Antica is described as a city surrounded by a wall, lined with "olive groves" and "wheat farms" bordering the city.

Lunathion is described in the exact same way:

Further, both Lunathion and Antica have "arid" climates:

Lunathion:

Antica:

And, most notably, both are surrounded by deserts; a unique geographical feature that is not prominently featured in other SJM settings.

As such, this suggests that the lost library of Parthos, is the Torre Cesme.

Perhaps the most sacred building in the entirety of the Throne of Glass world, the Torre Cesme is home to a huge library - one that is said to be the oldest.

In the present day, Jesiba Roga guards the remaining books that were once held in the library of Parthos (or, in the Torre Cesme library).

Prior to the end of CC1, Jesiba kept these books locked away in her store, Griffin Antiquities. Interestingly, a set of "glaring owl eyes" had been placed on the store to Jesiba's shop.

Owl's are the symbol of Silba, and the healers of the Torre Cesme.

Further, considering that Yrene's healing abilities are the exact same as Bryce's Starborn powers - could this explain why Jesiba looked like she had "seen a ghost" when she first beheld Bryce's Starborn light?

Such a notion makes even more sense when you consider that Hypaxia's tutor was brought back to life using necromancy, and was originally an inhabitant of Parthos.

Hypaxia states that this tutor specifically trained her in healing magic; just like the healers of the Torre Cesme.

In fact, the scene of Hypaxia removing the Kristallos venom is near identical to Yrene removing the Valg parasite from Chaol:

Lidia Cervos.

Speaking of necromancy, knowing that Hypaxia's family dabbles in such magic calls into question the identify of Lidia, Hypaxia's half-sister.

Is she Aelin Galathynius, brought back to life?

Or, perhaps she is a child of Aelin and Rowan, brought back to life?

Not only do Lidia and Aelin look near identical,

Not only is Lidia represented by flame (Aelin's power),

But her shifted form is that of a deer; that sacred animal of Terrasen. Even her last name "Cervos" is a type of female deer.

Lidia is also seen wearing a "gold ring, crowned with a square, clean-cut ruby." This is the exact description of the ring Aelin have to Rowan when they married.

Further, Ruhn also suggests that Lidia must be an Asteri, or as old as one, given the way she uses language. However, as Lidia is only 47, this makes no sense.

However, it makes perfect sense if Ruhn is actually talking to Aelin, or Aelin's child; someone who, according to this theory, existed many thousands of years ago.

(And, as a side note - given that Lidia looks like the "spitting image" of Luna, and that Luna's sacred animal is the Stag... could it be that Luna is Aelin? And that Lunathion was named after her?)

Connections.

Is it then perhaps no coincidence that one of the houses of Lunathion is the "House of Flame and Shadow." Aelin was known as the "Queen of Flame and Shadow."

In fact, Throne of Glass being the past world of Crescent City explains a plethora of connections:

The "Stag King" of Avallen.

Ruhn being named after the Ruhnn mountains.

Why so many CC places sound like TOG places (Morrah = Morath, Korinth = Orynth).

The witches worshipping the same "three-faced goddess."

Why wyrdmarks can be found everywhere (especially underwater, where some of the ruins of the "ancient civilisation" are said to lie).

It also explains the "World of Throne of Glass" book, which to this day, mysteriously remains unpublished.

According to SJM, the World of Throne of Glass is an "encyclopedia" that documents the full history of the Throne of Glass world. Written by a "grumpy librarian," SJM stated that it will "feel like a book you can pull off the shelves of an ancient library."

It's almost as if the World of Throne of Glass is a Parthos book in itself...

Is that why it remains unreleased?

Future books.

If this theory is correct, some may wonder how SJM could possibly include TOG characters if they are indeed dead.

I believe there are two viable options:

The "rewrite history" route:

In a future multiverse book series, the main characters of CC and ACOTAR would team up, and using the Harp/Horn (or perhaps the full power of the Dread Trove), they would go back in time. In doing so, they would join forces with the TOG characters, and stop the Asteri from ever overthrowing their world.

If successful, it would mean that the Dusk Court was never destroyed. At present, Bryce is hinted to be the ruler of this court... but it doesn't exist (and there isn't a lot of time to rebuild an entire city). However, if time manipulation was used... no rebuilding would be necessary.

It would also explain why the Oracle told Ruhn that the "royal bloodline will end" with him - as Midgard would never be created, the same applies for the Autumn King's reign.

The "escape" route:

Alternatively, perhaps when the Asteri arrived in the TOG world, some of the main characters were able to escape into other worlds - such as Prythian.

This would explain why so many of the characters in the ACOTAR and TOG worlds share many similarities (for example, Tamlin as the ancestor of Aedion and Lysandra...)

This would also explain why so many of the ACOTAR character's last names have been hidden from the reader.

Some characters may have escaped elsewhere too, such as Hel...

(^ This is more of a crack theory, but there's only two characters in the SJM universe who have "freakishly" blue eyes, can shape shift into any form they choose, and have powers that manifest as cold...)

However, no matter the method of saving the world, or storyline adopted, Aelin said it best herself:

"This world will be saved and remade by the dreamers."

[ven0moir]

So I'm not quite sure how to phrase this yet so PLEASE reblog this so a smarter Byler is able to connect the dots properly HAHA

But ... I was watching the show Eric last night and I noticed some ... VERY compelling similarities to Stranger Things: NUMBER ONE Time Period 'Eric' and Stranger things are both set in the 80s.

NUMBER TWO Main Premise The disappearance of a child as one of the main plot hooks. And look at Edgar ... doesn't he look familiar?

NUMBER THREE Queer themes Although the queer themes in Stranger Things are more ... subtle/subtextual, in Eric they show the struggles of one of the main characters as a closeted gay man in the 80s. It's honestly gut-wrenching and had me tearing up at the end. NUMBER FOUR William and Michael Speaking of the main character, his name's Michael. And his lover ...? William. Yep. There is a literal queer couple named William and Michael in this very VERY obviously inspired by Stranger Things Netflix show. And I REALLY don't think it's a coincidence.

I don't exactly know what to make of it, though, and I am sure there are far more themes between the two than these four, but these are the ones that were the most obvious to me.

I'm not kidding my jaw was on the floor. And I might be delusional but I mean come on ... it's one thing watching a Netflix show like .. idk, Bridgerton, with not as many obvious common themes with Stranger Things at surface level.

But this one?

I'll eat an edible later tonight lmao and revisit this to see if i can make any more connections but for now I'm weirdly excited ...? It feels like we're receiving Byler crumbs through this show or something. Makes me wonder what the point would be.

Anyway, please share any thoughts! I'm curious what other Bylers might think of this or maybe I'm just delusional haha

[celestisnothere]

Did one for ch251 I NEED TO DO ONE FOR CHAPTER 252

Because WHAT THE FUCK

VERY LONG POST AHEAD!!

HEAVY 252 SPOILERS!!!

LIKE WE DID HAVE SOME ANSWERS ABOUT THE WHOLE ALLEN SITUATION

BUT THE FUCK YOU MEAN "LAVI" WAS THERE?????

IS THAT "LAVI" OUR LAVI?

Like knowing the power Apocryphos has and how that's how Past!Allen became our Allen w/o remembering. It could very much be that it was Our!Lavi and just shared that same fate bc he got hit in the aftermath when trying to save Past!Allen as this chapter just showed us

But also since "Lavi" is just a name Bookman gave to their successor for the mission, it could be they aren't the same Lavi.

BUT it's too much of a coincidence both "Lavi"s had the same name when meeting their respective Allen's so....... The Bookman knew what he was doing when he gave Our!Lavi the "Lavi" name for the Black Order mission, that Old Man.

ALSO if it turns out to be Our!Lavi and just got hit (which would explain why the Bookman spent years finding the "new" successor).

LIKE IT WOULD MAKE SO MUCH SENSE!

Bc we saw that other!Lavi (to call him something) didn't wear a eyepatch and had a huge scar over the eye that Our!Lavi covers with an eyepatch.

Bc we know form the previous chapter that the Bookman took Our!Lavi as successor when he saw his eye (the eyepatch covered one) bc it had some sort of marking (almost literal words) that marked him as the Bookman Successor.

So the years the Bookman spent looking for his new successor, he was actually looking for the same successor and when he saw Our!Lavi as a kid, he actually saw the scar and *realized* that the kid was the successor that deflected all those years ago (since the other!Lavi deflected after meeting nea and wanted to offer himself as his new host).

BUT IF ALL THAT IS TRUE IT STILL DOESN'T EXPLAIN WHY THERE'S A 20-SOMETHING YEARS GAP (35years in our current timeline minus Our!Lavi's age) BETWEEN THAT HAPPENING AND THE BOOKMAN FINDING OUR!LAVI AS A 6YO AND TAKING HIM IS AS THE NEW SUCCESSOR

NOR THE ALSO 20-SOMETHING GAP (35years in our current timeline minus Our!Allen's age) BETWEEN IT AND OUR!ALLEN BEING AT THE CIRCUS AS RED (SINCE HE WAS AROUND 5YO IIRC).

Because the whome de-aging only took moments (minutes at most) or so it seemed.

Unless that's what seemed to us and it actually took several years just in stasis for some sort of Innocence wacky explanation.

AND NOW I HAVE TO WAIT 3 MONTHS OR SO FOR MORE ANSWERS?????

EITHER WAY NO MATTER WHAT A WIN FOR ME SPECIFICALLY BECAUSE

LONG HAIRED LAVI IS CANON!!!

ALSO LET ME POST A SIDE-BY-SIDE OF OTHER!LAVI AND OUR!LAVI BC I AM STRAING AT THE SIMILARITIES

And the SIDE-BY-SIDE WITH THE OUR!LAVI LOOK THAT MSKES ME THINKS THE POSSIBILITIES LF THEM BEING THE SAME PERSON ARE VERY HIGH

LIKE AM I BEING CRAZY OR DO THEY LOOK VERY VERY SIMILAR DOWN TO THE FUCKING EARINGS????

[dustyphantom]

What the fuck is up with the Thunder Legion

Okay I've made similar posts a couple of times, but I realized that Evergreen fits into this too. I'm more or less just rambling here, so if y'all have any input please do let me know. I need more fuel for the headcanon fire.

All three of these bitches are inherently connected to Zeref and/or Mavis, and it bothers me that this is never mentioned or explained. It's really weird since they're more or less background characters at this point. Are they actually connected, or is this just supposed to be a coincidence?

Bickslow uses Black Magic, and he's one of only three non-villain characters to use it (the other two being Nab and Mavis). Who else uses black magic? Zeref, for one. It's not a particularly uncommon magic type and, according to Invel, has no connections to morality. Nevertheless, connected to Zeref. Also, the whole disembodied souls thing? Where did he get them? Sir????

Evergreen used Fairy Magic. Although not confirmed, it appears that the Grand Fairy Spells are also Fairy Magic, since they look very similar and also literally have "Fairy" in the name. It's been a hot second since I watched the Zero arc, but if I recall correctly, Mavis created all three of the Grand Fairy Spells.

Freed is probably a demon or half-demon. He is the only "human" wizard who uses bane particles (as Wahl explicitly states he breaks Freed's enchantments by dispelling bane particles). He also seems to be more resistant (though not totally immune) to bane particle exposure, as he's the only one who can stay conscious through Tempester's initial attack. And who created the demons? Zeref. Zeref did.

There's definitely something going on here, and I am disappointed because this feels like foreshadowing for a plotline that was never (and will likely never be) expanded upon. Why specifically are these three connected to Mavis and Zeref? Is this supposed to mean something? Where did these fuckers come from?

[wannaeatramyeon]

Can we get lookism boys seeing their s/o for the first time?

Literally love at first sight and maybe their reactions?

Thanks,

Thanks for the ask! I've written a few slightly more fleshed out 'Meeting for the First Time' listed here (Gun, Goo, Jake, Johan). But let's do some other scenario for my usual suspects.

Umm...I actually really dislike the love at first sight trope. But I do like the double-take at first meeting trope, yknow what I'm saying? Here's a mix of everything!

Love at First Sight Double-Take at First-ish Meeting: Gun, Goo, Jake, Sammy, Vin + Taehoon!

Gun Park - Ultra Instinct

Gun is not ashamed to admit that it was the sashay of your hips that turned his head at first. He is a hot blooded male after all.

And then when you whirled around, asking "See something you like?"with a confident smirk and your own jet-black eyes staring back, moments before landing a throat punch.

Well. Gun is a goner. Head over heels, lying-awake-thinking-of-you obsessed.

Maybe he should have gotten a name. But two UI users meeting each other can't just be a coincidence, he must be destined to see you again.

Who would have thought Gun Park would believe in something as ridiculous as fate.

.

.

Goo Kim - Reflection

Goo detested you on first meeting. How can such a pretty face have so much venom.

All double-edged and saccharine, nothing to be taken at face value. You even had the audacity to ask if the weapon wielding was compensating for something.

And to add insult to injury, Gun had laughed. Goo didn't even realise Gun was capable of such emotion.

Ugh. Goo does not like having a taste of his own medicine.

As the day dragged on, Goo's obsession grew. It really was like looking into a mirror. Sure this reflection isn't as sexy as his usual. But. It's still pretty sexy nonetheless.

Huh, he wanders the corridors with a sly grin, wondering about you, Let's see how well you can keep up with me.

.

.

Jake Kim - Business Unit for Rent

Jake, for some bizarre reason relegated to realtor duties, shows you around the vacant Big Deal Street business unit. A long empty store that, fingers crossed, after today would no longer be a drain on the finances.

"All this can be yours for 2 million won a month," he flashes his most dazzling smile. Charming and toothy that he knows few could resist.

Unfortunately, it is completely missed by you as you continue casting an astute eye over the premises.

"Ah look at the state of this. The ventilation system is awful."

Jake blinks, looking at whatever the hell you're pointing at. "It is?"

"And the walls! It'll need plastering and floors completely redone."

"Um. Maybe it has been a while since-"

"I heard the footfall is terrible here. Constantly declining. 23% down on last year?"

Your sharp eyes peer into his and he freezes. Where the hell did you even get those stats? Not even Lua or Jason would know this.

"Well..." he scratches the back of his head, thinking of what to say.

Half an hour later, after a whirlwind of complaints and pointing out flaws, you've signed a 12 month contract for less than half the initial asking price.

Shit, Jake thinks, Jason is going to kill me. Actually... Fuck. This unit had been recently renovated to attract potential renters. And footfall figures? Must be plucked out of thin air.

You completely twisted his arm with your bullshit.

Jake can't even bring himself to be mad, he's impressed. Who the hell are you? He's looking forward to seeing more of you and your smart mouth.

.

.

Samuel Seo - Tattoos (let's ignore the timelines here)

Not many people pass Samuel's exacting standard on first meeting, but you do. He's frankly impressed with your work.

Someone similar to his age yet already amassing an impressive portfolio with impeccable linework and pristine colouring. No wonder you're booked out for months.

"So," your hands graze over his pecs, all strictly business yet his skin prickles at your touch. "You're thinking of your first tattoo here?"

"Yes."

"Cool, and you want it to eventually be a Sak Yant full body?" He nods. "Ok, it's going to take a while and quite a few sessions."

You give him a smile that leaves his throat dry. "Guess we're going to see a lot of each other."

.

.

Vin Jin - My name

Vin holds out his phone and with his most charming smirk, asks for your number.

"Sure," you fold your arms, showing no intention of reaching for the device, "You can have my number if you tell me my name."

"What?"

"I'm waiting," And now it's your turn to plaster on your smirk.

Fuck, who the hell do you think you are. Vin storms into the corridor, ego bruised and mood soured. Ugh, whatever. He has plenty of chicks interested anyway. He doesn't need to-

The lightbulb goes off over his head. Mary must know. She knows goddamn everything going on in this school.

Vin dashes off in search for her, thoughts from seconds ago already completely erased and giddy at the thought of finally getting your name and your number.

.

.

Seong Taehoon - Taekwondo

The first oddity is having someone your age show up for their first lesson. Then it turns out it's not your first.

The second oddity is when Taehoon tells you to show him what you got, you execute a perfect 1080 kick.

The last oddity, which really shouldn't be an oddity at all for Taehoon's ego, is that you are a fan of his from his UFC days and you think Taekwondo is the best.

Damn. And all that punctuated with a perfect 90 degree bow and 'Master Seong' too.

If that isn't the perfect way to worm yourself under his skin. Taehoon's going to be keeping an eye on you.

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Though We're Strangers 'Til Now

And now for something completely different! Now I want you guys to do me a favour here, and I need you to picture this fic as having like, a BBC Saturday night family show budget. I’m specifically talking Atlantis, but if you’ve not seen Atlantis (like most people), think Merlin. I wrote Edwin and Charles’ voices entirely as I’d write them in canon-verse, with nearly no regard to the fact I was transplanting them into ancient Greece, so it’s VERY important to me that you embrace the Camp. This is a styrofoam dungeon. Charles is about to meet his destiny in a labyrinth that’s just a quarry in Wales. The historical outfits all have zips up the back. Get on board with the vibe. This one goes out to @every-moment-a-different-sound, who not only made me aware of Painland week as a thing but also approached me for a collab! Go check out their FUCKING GORGEOUS GIFS for this fic!!! This fic quite literally wouldn’t exist without them, Robin you fuckin' rule 💛 4.7k, T-rated, also available on Ao3. Thanks again, @painlandweek!

The dungeon was a proper dingy place. Charles wondered if that's where they got the name from. Dingy, dungeon. Too similar to be a coincidence, right?

Lying on his back on the hard wood pallet, head on his hands, he stared at the pale moonlight bleeding through the window. 'Window' was being a bit generous; it was more of a slit in the wall. Narrow, barred, so high he could've stood on tiptoes and barely brushed it with his fingertips. But at least it was big enough to let in that light. He supposed he was lucky. Between the sliver of moonlight and the sputtering candle in the hallway past the wall of bars, he was bloody spoiled. He didn't know exactly where they were sending him tomorrow, but he had a pretty strong hunch that it would be dark. The kind of dark that drove men mad. Maybe the madness would get him before the bloody great beast in the tunnels got the chance.

Seemed a bit off, really. Putting him in the dingy dungeon when he bloody volunteered for this. Maybe they thought he'd change his mind and leg it in the night. Any half-sensible person would, wouldn't they? No one had ever given Charles an earful for having common sense, though. Usually the opposite.

No running away for him, that's for sure. He was bedded down for the night, just him and a handful of snoring cellmates. Despite the panic and crying, the six other lads had managed to drift into some kind of sleep, however uneasy. Not Charles, though. Too much on his mind. The stupid idea that brought him here in the first place. The near certainty that he'd fail, in the end, and he’d have no one but himself to blame for his bloody demise.

Wasn’t all bleak thoughts, though. After all, there was always him.

The prince.

He closed his eyes, letting it all play out in his head again. Stepping off the boat, being 'greeted' (shackled and marched to the dungeons) by the 'welcoming committee’ (royal guard). Him and thirteen other boys and girls, thanked like heroes and handled like criminals. The king in all his fancy regalia, booming his solemn gratitude to the brave youths for their sacrifice — as if any one of them but Charles had any choice in it. And standing there, at the king's back...

Look, Charles may have had more important things to think about, but he knew a fit lad when he saw one.

Fit didn't even cover it. The boy was just about the most gorgeous thing Charles had ever seen — or ever would see. Unless he spotted a prettier one before he died tomorrow, that is. Bit unlikely.

There was just something about him, the prince. Charles wasn't even into the posh sort, generally. Like with the more well-to-do lads from his own town — something about the baked-in entitlement soured them. Made them ugly, even if they were objectively alright looking. He could smile politely and play nice, but he’d sooner kiss a frog than a rich merchant’s kid. And a prince was a pretty big step up from a merchant's son, wasn't he? By rights he ought to be even worse. Charles probably didn't even register as a human to him. He wasn’t worth wasting a thought on.

Except Charles could still picture him perfectly, in his head. He could play out the whole welcome start to finish. How Charles' heart, all shrivelled in fear, had jumpstarted soon as he clapped eyes on the prince.

"Charles..."

He'd had dark hair all perfectly combed into an inky shine, almost prettier than the gold crown on top of it. Eyes like sea glass, clear and green and shining with a cunning light; eyes that had scanned the line of offerings and landed on Charles. Fixed him with such an intense, curious scrutiny he'd actually felt himself blush.

Hadn't Charles seen him somewhere before? That chin, that nose, those high cheekbones? He could've sworn he'd walked past him at a temple somewhere, carved from pristine marble. He could see him so clearly in his mind's eye, surely he must've known him all his life.

"Charles...?"

If he concentrated, really concentrated, he could even hear his voice...

"Charles Rowland!"

Blimey, that was scary. That sounded real.

Charles blinked his eyes open and frowned. He let his head flop to the side and looked across the cell, where the stone wall gave way to bars.

There, framed by iron and flickering candlelight, there he stood. Pretty as a picture — baffling as a dream.

Charles sat up, slow, cautious. He almost said something proper stupid, like 'what's a nice boy like you doing in a dungeon like this?'

"Um," he fumbled. "Evenin'?"

Mm. Not much better, really, was it?

"Evening, your highness?" he corrected himself, with a wince. Gods, his old man would've walloped him good and proper for talking to a royal like that.

Prince Edwin, however, didn't sneer or snap or even walk away. It was hard to see his face, at a distance in the gloom, but he almost looked amused. Charles thought he could see the barest shadow of a lifted lip, anyway.

"Good evening," said the prince. He said it so quiet, barely above a whisper, but his crisp tone carried regardless. He cocked his head slightly and beckoned with a finger. "Might I have a word?"

Charles glanced behind himself. Just on the off-chance there was another Charles Rowland he didn't know about squeezed onto the narrow bed with him. There wasn't, obviously, and he was a good few feet from any of his sleeping cellmates. No mistaking who the prince was after. He swallowed, stood up, and crept across the uneven flagstones, stepping over the sprawled legs of another boy.

As he neared, as the situation sank in and the prince came into focus, a new bundle of nerves started kicking off. Nothing like the anxious dread that had been stewing in his gut all night, the 'oh, gods, they're feeding me to a monster in the morning' nerves. No, this was different. More familiar but also, weirdly, worse than the monster dread. Fuck, but this lad was gorgeous. Not even the dungeon gloom could hide it. He was almost blinding to look at — and now those clever eyes were fixed right on Charles, no one else. Nowhere to hide. Fuck, Charles probably had sweat and cellar grime all over his face, and all!

Charles came to a standstill, toes almost touching the bars. Up close, he could see that him and the prince were about the same height. Edwin might've had the advantage by an inch or so, but maybe that was just his perfect posture. Spine straight and shoulders back, he regarded Charles with his head curiously cocked and his hands steepled. For a royal, he wasn't dressed all that flashy. Hadn't gone in for any jewellery besides the gilded circlet on his head. And under the blue silk chlamys clasped at his shoulder, his chiton was a simple white, clean and sharp and draped neatly to knee length. Expensive, pristine, put-together, but not exactly ostentatious. Mind you, that's just the sliver of outfit that Charles could see — because the prince had topped the whole thing off with a thick, practical brown cloak. A peacock disguised as a pigeon.

After a moment's quiet contemplation, the prince finally spoke. "I'm told you volunteered," he said. He kept his voice down, but it stayed crisp and clear. Highborn through-and-through. Probably wasn't even capable of mumbling.

Charles supposed it was a bit unusual, but unusual enough to bring a prince skulking down to the dungeons? He reckoned he was right about Edwin's eyes, that cleverness in them — he wasn't just a pretty face under a crown. He wanted to know things. He was staring at Charles like he wanted to pick him apart, understand him.

"Yeah," Charles answered. He forced a grin. "Not my best idea."

The prince blinked and leaned a little closer, intrigued. "Why in the world would you volunteer for this?"

His attention was sort of a lot — but it felt... good. Charles wanted to keep it. Hold onto it. He wanted this clever, gorgeous lad to think he was the most fascinating thing in the room.

Charles shrugged. "I can fight. I can take a hit. Seemed like the right thing to do. The decent thing, yeah?"

Edwin narrowed his eyes. "You’d forfeit your life to... give the beast a fight for its food?"

Charles shifted on his feet. "Not... exactly."

The prince watched him, all expectant. Charles sighed.

"Years it's been going on," he said, barely a mumble — Edwin leaned a little closer still to listen. "Lads and lasses being packed off, fed to that thing to keep it happy. Not right, is it? And I thought, well..."

He'd thought a lot of things. He'd thought well, he was already getting the shit beaten out of him every other day, so what's a little mauling on top of it? He'd thought about being his father's son, with his father's temper, and how maybe that could be a good thing for once. He'd thought about how things could change for him if he came back — and about who would even miss him if he didn't. He'd thought of all those kids less deserving than him, sent miles from home to be ripped to shreds. Sent away from bright futures and families that loved them. Gentle types who'd never hurt a fly. Kids who'd never learned to take a beating. Kids who didn't have the anger to keep them alive. Kids who weren't monster enough to survive the real thing.

"I thought, well, I'm pretty good in a scrap," he said, brightly, plastering on a smile. "Pretty stubborn. Thought if I went down there, maybe I could..."

"Could what?"

Charles raised his eyebrows.

Edwin looked at him blankly.

Charles rolled his eyes, held up one hand, and punched his fist into it twice.

Edwin's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "You mean to... slay the minotaur?"

"Told you it wasn't my best idea," said Charles.

"You have a talent for understatement," said Edwin, a sharp hiss. His voice had quickened and thinned into a hushed, incredulous patter. "I'd go so far as to describe that idea as fatuous, hubristic, and downright suicidal!"

Charles snorted. "Yeah. Sounds about right." He leaned his shoulder against the bars, brought his face closer to the prince's — which was such a brilliant idea it immediately gave him a really, really bad one. So bad it was impossible to resist.

He gave him a lax, lopsided grin — the one that he could bring out back home to make the girls giggle. "Be good if it worked, though, wouldn't it?"

Coming onto a bloody prince like he was some blushing farm lad... well, it probably wasn't a worse idea than throwing himself into a minotaur's labyrinth, but it probably wasn't much better, either. But what did it matter? They couldn't punish him, could they — they were already feeding him to a monster in the morning. What did he have to lose? Why not take a crack at the handsome prince with the pretty eyes? Sod it, it was his last night on Earth.

Edwin, to Charles' immense glee, actually seemed to get a little pink in the face. His eyes darted away and back again. "Yes, well..." He cleared his throat and straightened his cloak with a sharp tug of the front. "Have you a plan? Tactics? A weapon, at the very least?"

"Um. Well. No, not really." He dropped his fist on the bars once, twice, mulling it over. "But, I have been told my smile's pretty disarming!"

If his clumsy flirting hadn't been enough to break through the regal composure, that would've done it. Edwin's mouth dropped open a little, his brows drawing close together as he stared at Charles in abject disbelief. "Dear gods," he said, voice light and brittle. "You're doomed."

Charles chuckled, resting his forehead against the bars. "Yeah. Suppose so. Won't go down without a fight though, eh?"

He looked up through his eyelashes and found Edwin still staring, lips parted just a bit. Fuck, he had nice lips. Kissable. Charles reckoned he’d miss kissing when he was dead. What was the sentence for stealing a kiss from a prince — was it worse than death by minotaur? He might be willing to risk it.

Edwin tore his gaze away and glanced down the hall, first one way, then the other. Furtive. He seemed to come to some kind of decision. "Charles," he whispered. "Are your cellmates all asleep?"

Pulse quickening, Charles forced his eyes away from the prettiest person in the room to have a glance at the others. Everyone looked the same as they had before. Same chorus of snores and soft breaths and muttered, whimpered nightmares. "Yeah. Yeah, I reckon so."

"Right. Excellent." Edwin cleared his throat again and crowded closer to the bars.

Charles' heart was racing. He couldn't lean any closer to the bars than he already was but he wanted to. He didn't mean to, but he bit his lip, eyes flickering down to Edwin's mouth.

Edwin took another wary glance behind him, and tugged his cloak back. He reached inside. His hand closed around something under his arm and drew it out — something long and wrapped in leather.

Charles caught his breath.

"Take it," Edwin ordered, holding the hilt of the sword to the bars and looking Charles in the eye. "Quickly, and quietly."

Charles didn't need telling twice. He grabbed it, his fingers grazing Edwin's. Gods, he even had beautiful hands. Smooth on the back but a bit calloused on the pads. Didn't escape Charles' notice that the blade, though heavy, seemed to be a familiar weight in his hands.

"Cheers, mate," Charles breathed, drawing the cumbersome thing through the gap. If he was careful, he reckoned he could stash it under his thin cloak without anyone knowing.

He hadn't meant to call the gorgeous boy (who also happened to be fucking royalty) mate, but if Edwin was offended he didn't show it. In fact he ducked his head in a bashful little dip. It was so endearing Charles had to do another quick pros-and-cons list in his head about the risks of snogging him through the bars.

"Well," said Edwin, a forced lightness in his tone. "If you must embark upon this fool's errand, you must have the proper equipment."

Charles let out a ragged breath. "Thank you," he said, sincere, as he slid the scabbard through his belt. He laughed a little, rubbing the back of his head. "To be honest, I've... I've never been more scared in my life."

Edwin's shrewd gaze softened. His whole face did. It actually bowled Charles over a little bit, the difference. He felt like he ought to look away, like he was seeing something he shouldn't. A prince shouldn't be looking at him like that. Not him. Like he was something special. Something he was in awe of. "I can only imagine."

Charles bit his lip. "Less scared, now," he said, fidgeting with the hilt of the sword. Even though he felt a bit like he'd been flayed open and laid at the prince's feet, he still managed a wink. "Reckon I'll show that big bugger what's what with this thing, don't you?"

The prince’s eyes twinkled over his small, indulgent smile. "Oddly enough... yes. I believe you just might." He seemed to catch himself, a pretty blush high on his cheeks as he schooled his expression back into something a bit more lofty. "And quite a feather in your cap it will be. That beast has been a thorn in my father's side for years, holding the kingdom to ransom."

Edwin's gaze flickered over Charles, head to toe, and the pretty blush deepened. "If you were to end its reign of terror, you'd be more than deserving of a handsome reward."

"Oh, yeah?" said Charles. If he sounded breathless, it's 'cause he was. "What sort of reward?"

He felt dazed. He must've been dreaming. Five minutes ago he was accepting his fate, and now he'd been brought a fighting chance. By a gorgeous prince. Who was fucking flirting with him. They must've knocked his head on the bars when they shoved him in the cell — he was probably lying in the corner, drooling and babbling.

Edwin's eyes were restless, darting from Charles' face to his feet. His throat bobbed around a dry swallow. He looked too real to be a dream — but also too good to be true. His hand lifted, fingers resting on an iron bar between them.

"Well," he said, sounding pretty bloody breathless himself. "You could take your pick."

If this wasn't a dream, it was definitely a trick. Some rich kid teasing him, waiting to pull away at the last second and laugh at him for being so easy to string along. Or waiting for an excuse to run to his daddy and bag Charles a fate worse than death for getting fresh with him.

Except for whatever reason, he didn't believe that. Couldn't. For some reason, he trusted Edwin. Felt like he knew him. Like he'd always known him. And he knew he was kind. Not necessarily nice, but kind. For whatever reason he knew Edwin wasn't the sort to mess around with someone's feelings — or pretend to be interested when he wasn't.

Why he'd be interested in Charles of all people was another thing, but... sod it. Charles was probably gonna die tomorrow, anyway. Why not pretend it was possible for a minute? What the fuck did he have to lose?

Feeling once again like the undisputed king of bad decisions, Charles took a breath, and put his hand on top of Edwin's. He almost couldn't believe his luck when Edwin didn't pull away. His hand was soft — like the little gasp he let out when their skin touched.

Swallowing past his dry mouth, Charles laced their fingers. He let them lay there, woven on the bars; the warp and weft of it felt so right he wondered how they hadn't been doing this for years. How'd he gone this long, not realising how empty his hands were without Edwin's tangled up inside them?

He looked at Edwin's face and saw all his own thoughts reflected. Saw Edwin staring at their hands like they were a bloody marvel. Like the last piece of a puzzle had clicked into place. His face was so open, so alive — so gently amazed and Charles had never wanted to kiss someone more in his life.

Charles laughed, quiet, awed. "Handsome prize, alright."

That earned him another quick, coy duck of Edwin's head — but Charles could see him preening clear as day. "Be sure you're alive to claim it," he said, soft and serious. He squeezed Charles' hand once before breaking the hold.

Charles sketched a lazy salute to distract his hand from how empty it felt. "No dying. Right-o."

Edwin smiled. A proper smile; a quick flash of teeth breaking through his tight-lipped, regal composure. Charles would've fought the bloody titans to get another glimpse of it.

"You are... odd," said Edwin, matter-of-factly. "And quite mad, I suspect."

"...Cheers?"

Humming, Edwin reached into his cloak once more. "There is just one other thing..."

He brought out something small from a pouch at his waist. Something round, with a leather cord threaded through the middle and tied off in a loop. Edwin held it aloft, thumb and forefinger pinched through the handle. The little round something glowed silky gold in the candlelight, and Charles squinted at it.

"...String?" he asked.

Edwin nodded, reaching into the cell to take Charles' hand and draw it through the bars. His touch lingered as he placed the generous clew of fine, shimmering string in Charles' palm.

"I had the idea that if you were to unspool it behind you, perhaps you might be able to navigate the labyrinth with greater ease." Head bowed, he looked at Charles through his lashes. Pretty, fluttering things they were, charcoal black. "So that when you slay the beast, you might find your way back."

Charles gawped at him. "Mate. That's proper smart."

Edwin preened again — actually, he preened more than he had when Charles' complimented his looks. Handy to know. "Yes, I thought it rather a sensible idea. I spun it myself; I’ve been experimenting with the tensile strengths of different fibres. It shan’t break."

Charles grinned, closing his hand around the clew — and Edwin's fingers, too. "Brains and beauty, eh?" he said. "Where've you been all my life?"

Edwin went pinker, his eyes twinkled. Warmer than the candlelight, brighter than the moon.

Charles would have to offer up a prayer tonight to any god who might be listening. He'd do anything, give them anything, if they only promised to get him through tomorrow alive. He needed at least a thousand more days ahead of him, just to spend finding more and ingenious ways of making this boy smile at him.

Soon, too soon, Edwin sighed, reluctantly extricating his hand from Charles'. "I must go," he said, apologetic. "Questions will be asked if I'm discovered down here in the dead of night."

"Yeah. Yeah, 'course." Charles let his hand fall to his side, clenching it around the thread — still warm from Edwin's hand. He laughed, softly. "Well, um. Thanks for... dropping in?"

"And thank you for your discretion," said Edwin, raising his eyebrows as he drew his cloak back around him. "I'm sure I need not impress upon you the fact that I was never here."

Charles mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key.

"Good. Very good." Edwin shifted his weight between his feet a moment, finger lifting, mouth opening as if he had more to say. But whatever it was, he thought better of it. He drew his hands into fists in front of him, pressed together knuckle to knuckle, and offered a tight smile instead. "Well... best of luck, Charles Rowland. I truly hope you find fortune on your side."

With a stiff bob of his head, he turned fluidly on his heel to walk away. And it hit Charles again, hard, right between the eyes. The possibility that tomorrow could be his last day alive. A few minutes ago, the idea hadn't bothered him much.

Fuck. It bothered him, now.

"Edwin," he said, almost losing control of his volume as desperation sunk its hooks into him. He grabbed the bars, white-knuckled. "Edwin, wait —"

And he did. He waited, his back to Charles, his posture so, so perfect. Still as a statue.

Charles swallowed. "Can..."

Edwin turned his head, just slightly.

Charles' courage abandoned him. He huffed, shaking his head. "Nah. Nothing."

Of course, if there's one thing Charles knew about Edwin by now, it was that he couldn't resist a mystery. He turned to face Charles, eyes bright and curious. "Is there something else you require?"

Charles forced a smile. "You've already given me two gifts, mate. Bit greedy to ask for another one, yeah?"

"Perhaps." Edwin paused, and took a cautious step closer. "But, between ourselves... I can see little harm in the asking."

Charles' grin bloomed into something more sincere, something real. "No standing on ceremony, eh?"

Edwin's eyes crinkled at the corners. "I hardly see the point. I think perhaps you and I might dispense with formalities."

"Right."

Well then. Why not? Last night on Earth, and all that.

Charles ducked his head, laughing softly at himself. "Well. I was gonna be a bit cheeky, actually. Ask you to gimme a kiss for luck. But I reckon that's a bit — mmf!"

Quick, quicker than Charles could've imagined, Edwin was right there; reaching through the bars, taking Charles' face in his hands, and pulling him into a bruising kiss.They were lucky neither of them broke their noses against the iron strips.

Charles startled, gasped, so blindsided he didn't even know what to do with his hands — so he ended up just sort of clinging onto the bars. But soon enough his eyes fluttered closed, his breath rushed out of him and he melted. He kept his grip on the bars, though, holding on tight just to keep his knees from buckling. Edwin's lips were soft, and hotter than fire. His kiss was clumsy and overeager and not even slightly what Charles would've expected from someone so elegant, so refined. But he tasted of honey and home and Charles could've got lost in him, happily. Charles felt like he'd been shoved against the wall and plundered, in the best possible way. He felt like Edwin was everywhere, filling his senses. Hard not to feel wrapped up in him, with the way Edwin had his hands cupped round Charles' face, covetous and claiming. Like Charles belonged to him.

Fuck, maybe he did. Maybe he always had.

Edwin broke the kiss, but he didn't let Charles go. Just pulled back a little, still framing Charles' face with his fingers. His eyes were dark, hooded, his pretty eyelashes fluttering as he stroked Charles' cheek with his thumb. Face flushed, breathing hot and fast, gazing at Charles like he could devour him with his eyes. Charles shivered under the possessive weight of his gaze. He felt seen, admired, treasured. He felt owned.

He wanted more. More, more, until he suffocated under it.

Edwin took a shuddering inhale. "Come back to me," he said. And just because his voice was high and wavering with feeling didn't make it any less commanding. It wasn't a request; it was an order.

Charles nodded, in a daze. "I will," he promised.

He was as surprised as anyone to find he actually meant it.

Edwin nodded, and pulled him in close once more. Quick as you like, for just one more kiss — this one dry and fleeting, almost chaste. Bit of a departure from the one before, but somehow all the more devastating. Charles could feel Edwin's palms against his jaw, pressing so tight they ought to bruise. He hoped they would. A sword and a string weren't enough; he wanted everything Edwin could give him. Every tangible reminder that this was real, wasn't just a mad dream.

When that kiss broke, so did Edwin's hold. When he stepped away, he went all the way. And with one last lingering, longing look, he was gone, fading into the night. A mirage. A ghost.

And like a broken amphora, Charles remained right where Edwin had left him. Off-kilter, rooted to the spot. His outer shell shattered; his insides pooling at his feet for all to see.

~

It would be a sombre morning, just as the others had been. A familiar and predictable tragedy; as it always was, and always shall be.

At dawn's early light, just as they always had, seven young men and seven young women would be led — marched, bullied, carried — to the mouth of the labyrinth. There, the trembling gathering would be ushered into the embrace of the earth and stone. Pushed by the merciless hands of a royal guard, who'd long learned to look past the blood upon them.

But on this occasion, quite without the guards' knowledge, one youth would hang back from the crowd. From his cloak he would draw a small token, round and bright like a golden apple. A ball of fine yarn — spun in strong, beautiful fibres by strong, beautiful hands. He would find the end of the thread and fasten it, tightly, to an old iron ring within the threshold.

Then, with the clew unspooling from his fingers, painting a trail behind him like a steady drip of molten gold, he would walk into the jaws of death. Not with fear, not even with resignation, but with purpose. He was no hapless sacrifice, no tragic victim. He was a youth who'd grown accustomed to treading lightly through the dark, lest the monster in his house leap from the shadows. A youth with steel in his hand, and his own monster in his belly; a monstrous rage, and monstrous desire. A hunger to rival that of the minotaur’s.

A youth with a promise to keep in the dark; and a path waiting to lead him back to the light.

~~

A ball of thread is known as a clew or, in an alternative spelling, a clue. To this day, we talk about following the ‘clues’ to discover something, and it’s all thanks to the story of Theseus and Ariadne’s thread. — things I didn’t even know when I came up with this idea but make me insane… everything is connected… detective boys forever… Thanks for reading guys! You know I adore your comments 💛 and don't forget to give Robin's amazing gifs some love as well! Dunno if I'll get anything posted tomorrow, but if I do it'll either be something much shorter or maybe some sketches. I will defo see you for another fic on day 4, though! Any encouragement very much welcomed, it's been a rough couple of weeks💛 Painland Week Prompt List

[sunlightmurdock]

this is your psa to just be a kind person and respect other people tysm

okay so after being subposted about a lot, I just wanted to clear some things up on my end because this was not random and I literally refuse to be made the villain here.

About a month ago, I was sent an anon about some similarities between my fic Blow by Blow and another creator’s series of drabbles. I messaged this creator calmly and we had a really nice conversation where we both agreed that lines get blurred sometimes and it’s easy to forget if you were potentially inspired by another fic you had read a while ago.

So, they had read Blow by Blow and still followed me at this point. But, they acknowledged the similarities and apologised. I was more than happy to continue with my life bc who cares.

Then, I received another anon about the same creator but about similarities between another of their series of drabbles and my fic Trouble in Paradise. I took a look for myself, and it was astounding. Upset, I blocked them. After a really upsetting day yesterday, I published that anon. I have since taken it down because exposing their name didn’t feel like the right thing to do at that point…

But, after they made a series of subposts last night claiming to have never heard of me or read any of my works, I’ve had enough to be honest. I have screenshots of this person in the likes of that fic. Even if they haven’t read the whole thing, they posted two chapters to their drabble Masterlist that were strikingly similar to chapter 1 of Trouble in Paradise, which they have liked and read. One of those chapters has since been deleted (I can only imagine why).

I reached out to them this morning explaining the situation and giving them an opportunity to talk to me, but they decided to block me instead, so here are:

similarities from the not stolen fic from a creator who has never heard of me or this work, theirs highlighted in purple while the original work (mine) is highlighted in pink. If you’ve read trouble in paradise, you may also spot some more underlying similarities. sorry in advance for the long post 🙄

so the premise of their drabble plays out exactly like the second half of Trouble in Paradise 0.1. reader is wearing the exact same thing. male mc is a stranger to the island, who on his first day has found someone exciting, happy and much younger. description of the bedroom is also looking eerily similar… they are both bartenders, who after a shift drive the male mc back to their place.

So in this realm, we can see that the dialogue is not only the exact same but once again, the reader is wearing the exact same thing and performing the same actions.

and here we have their Drabble ending the exact same way my chapter does, with the dialogue being nearly word for word the same.

I am not claiming to own the silly girl on an island trope, but after specifically speaking to this creator before about another one of my fics which had wayyyy too many similarities of theirs to be a coincidence, and them apologising, I thought we were beyond this. This creator then claimed to have never heard of me or my work.

I have screenshots of them in the likes of this fic, I know that they read at least the beginning, which is where the similarities start and end as far as I’m aware. Up until I blocked them, they had followed me for 11 months. This is the second time I have had an issue with them, after handling the first privately.

It’s really upsetting 1. not only to have had the premise of my stories rewritten by someone else but 2. for them to pretend that they have never heard of me when we have had conversations, and when I have screenshots of them interacting with my fics.

@devinedoll not really cool

[mymarifae]

jade did nothing wrong

oh yeah she only put aventurine in a new, fancier form of slavery, reducing him to a tool. an asset. a pretty little thing to make her richer that she'll cast aside the moment he's no longer useful to her.

and don't give me any crap about how aventurine "wanted" this - he was literally a slave?? his options at this point in his life were EXTREMELY limited and just killing his "master" wouldn't have been enough to secure his freedom. as we saw in this very cutscene, he was about to go on trial for murder. the ipc didn't give a damn that the man he killed was a fucking slave owner; they were still going to punish him to the full extent of the law, so he would have been going to prison for a VERY long time (or for life), or he'd be sentenced to death. playing off the murder in a way that caught their attention and made them consider his... "worth as an asset", so to speak, was his best bet. he'd be freed from his (literal, at least) chains, and he would have the opportunity to earn money and thus survive in this capitalistic intergalactic hellscape the ipc has been building up for centuries.

ah, and while we're here, should we talk about how she tells him here that his birth name is "destined to be buried in the dirt?" after seeing her interactions with topaz, this isn't a stonehearts thing. they don't HAVE to cast off their birth names and embrace the identity of their cornerstone.

i suppose it's only a coincidence that topaz's name is of slavic and greek origin while aventurine's is romani, and this totally doesn't play further into the (not-exactly-the-most-subtle-anymore) subtext of the ipc's chokehold on the entire universe being an allegory for the racist, white supremacist capitalistic systems plaguing the real world today. which, for the record, is an idea that has existed throughout the game's duration thus far and was articulated a little more loudly in the 2.1 update, with the deep dives into aventurine's past and all, and then was really hammered in with boothill's backstory.

(let's set aside the very valid complaints about hoyoverse's allergy to melanin for a moment - we know aventurine and boothill are not white, and the way their home planets were treated in comparison to, say, topaz's, means something.)

and even if you don't want to connect these two very obvious dots and want to pretend the ipc is more of a neutral force (????), let me just point out how fucked it is for jade to sever aventurine's connection to his birth name. one of his last ties to his culture. topaz gets to keep hers, gets to claim both her past and her cornerstone as integral parts of her identity - but aventurine only gets his cornerstone. the ipc encompasses every part of who he is now. i suppose this qualifies as doing nothing wrong too and not as an act of manipulation and cruelty?

(digressing for a moment to point out a positive because honestly this is a heartbreaking thing to say. aventurine's future self calling him Kakavasha suggests that he didn't truly give in to this treatment and instead fiercely clung to every scrap of his past he had left.)

and just. before i move on from aventurine and topaz completely, i guess we can ignore how inappropriately she touched topaz?

"they're both adults" yeah! thank fucking god! but topaz is said over and over to be Very Young for the position she holds. she, much like aventurine, has been working for the ipc since her late teen years. neither of them were promoted to stonehearts - a position that typically requires a loooooooooot of experience over SEVERAL years with the company - right away, remember that. backtracking to this for a moment:

jade is very much a Grown Ass Woman here. while aventurine is probably like, freshly 18. he and topaz are similar in age. jade is definitely more than one decade older than both of them. maybe you don't care about that; maybe you don't care about a senior boss figure taking advantage of what appears to be a puppy crush born from starry-eyed admiration (which is in turn born from topaz literally being indoctrinated when her home planet was "integrated" into the ipc's system) to make topaz more agreeable to whatever she's told to do. and notice how jade dangles the promise of a promotion right after overhearing how difficult topaz's recent demotion has made her life...?

also if you want to argue about me referring to jade as a senior figure that's quite literally what topaz says about her, so...:

but whatever, right? not a thing done wrong here. Nope.

and we can definitely overlook the way she runs bonajade exchange, right? surely it's of no significant note that she shows no mercy in the contracts she writes up. people come in, trade away their most valuable possessions, and almost immediately find themselves in a hard place with no options... except for another visit to bonajade exchange. consequences of their own greed, sure, but i really want to point out how she doesn't try to help. she doesn't try to include a clause or two that may work in their favor if they're clever. she doesn't leave any loopholes. she forces them to be completely dependent on her, and takes, and takes, and takes... to what end? i don't know, and i'm scared to find out.

i'm not saying she has to or should show mercy to the people that visit her pawnshop. i'm fine with a character who just does evil things, and some of her customers probably deserve whatever end waits for them in the jaws of the snake. but if they were going to show that she has a softness about her, a hint of good intentions... this is where they would have done it. the fact that this is completely absent says an awful fucking lot about the kind of person she is, yeah?

and on that note, i'm guessing you want to just ignore how numby is TERRIFIED of her?

because yeah i'm sure that has nothing to do with the very common trope of animals being able to tell when a person is actively malicious and dangerous. everything is fine, isn't it?

[nobodysdaydreams]

More Hatchetverse Theory: Sycamore High and the Timberwolves are connected to the Hatchetmen and the Tree-People

Starkid's Hatchetverse has retriggered my hyperfixation, and by golly if you think I'm not gonna share every unhinged theory...you're wrong. I’ll tag them “#hatchetverse theory” to make it easier. So let's dive in.

One thing I haven't seen anyone talking about is the fact that, based on what we know about canon, Sycamore High School likely shouldn't exist.

Hatchetfield is a "tiny town". There doesn't seem to be a reason for them to have two high schools, especially when Sycamore seems to not even have enough staff and students for most extra curriculars and programs (in TGWDLM, Paul mentions they don't have a theater program).

So why does Sycamore High School exist? Well, one thing I noticed was that SYCAMORE High as well as its mascot, the TIMBERwolves, have tree related pun names. And what a coincidence, trees happened to be big in the hatchetfield universe, particularly when it comes to the hatchetmen and their hatred of the LIB and magic/“the gift” in general. They did plant a forest of magic tree people after all. And, since they hate the LIB so much, they likely wouldn't want their children attending high school at one of the black altar locations, which just so happens to be Hatchetfield High. That gives them a motivation to build an alternative school.

Sounds like a pretty solid theory to me, but then there's also the fact that the residents also seem to have an odd attitude towards Sycamore High. It's not hated by Hatchetfield High with the same level of hatred they give the Clivesdale Chemists, but they still don't like Sycamore, and the students hate the idea of transferring there. Which seems odd. You'd think it would be the other way around since Hatchetfield High is the school with the black altar. Unless being around a black altar makes the students hate Sycamore, and I could probably do a whole different rant on how the LIB's influence is messing with the perceptions and behavior of the people of Hatchetfield, particularly at the altar locations or when someone uses or has used the black book, but maybe I'll save that for later.

However, if you really wanted to take this theory to the extreme, it could be part of the reason why Paul "doesn't like musicals." Musicals and music are the primary way Pokey expands his influence in Hatchetfield, at least in TGWDLM. That might be one of the reasons Sycamore doesn't have a choir or theater program: not just due to lack of students, but strategically to keep Pokey's influence out. Paul went to Sycamore High, which isn't a black altar (and indeed, might even be designed to counteract or resist the LIB), therefore he's more put off by music and musical performances in Hatchetfield, though he doesn't really know why.

I also suspect this isn't the only instance where the name of locations around town have significance. This has already been seen several times, particularly with the black altar locations.

For example:

The Starlight Theater: has a star theme similar to "the Church of the Starry Children"

CCRP (COVEN Communication Research and Power): Literally has the word "Coven" in it.

Lakeside Mall: Used to be the old mill (which would be located near water, also "mall" and "mill" are one letter off).

And trust me, I have my theories about Clivesdale as well, but again, maybe that one is better for another time.

I hope you enjoy Starkid fandom!

[emilystheories]

Aelin, Nesta, Bryce: the secret of the eight-pointed star.

My all time favourite SJM universe theory.

[Spoilers for ACOTAR, Throne of Glass, and Crescent City!]

In Empire of Storms, Aelin is seen wearing a Wyrdkey around her neck. Because of this, a temporary gate is opened inside of her, allowing Deanna to possess her body.

Within the Throne of Glass world, Deanna is a god.

When Aelin attends a religious service to honour Deanna and the other gods, it is noted that the High Priestess bears the marking of an eight-pointed star above her brow.

In the ACOTAR world, it has been widely speculated that the Cauldron - with its three magical legs - is also made from Wyrdkeys (thus creating a Wyrdgate). Items dipped into the Cauldron, such as the Dread Trove, also appear to take on similar properties to the Wyrdkeys.

When Nesta uses the Dread Trove items - just like Aelin and the Wyrdkey - a god-like being appears to possess Nesta.

Nesta also bore a tattoo of the eight-pointed star. The symbol of the gods.

Many believe that the fourth Dread Trove item is the Horn in the Crescent City world.

The Horn is embedded into Bryce's back. Just like the Wyrdkeys, it allows Bryce to open up doors to other worlds.

When the Horn was repaired... Bryce also gained the same marking of the eight-pointed star.

Thus, it appears that Wyrdkeys and the Dread Trove (including the Horn) allow gods, or higher beings, to possess the bodies of those wielding them.

However, unlike Aelin or Nesta, who can remove their access to these items, Bryce is stuck with the Horn permanently inked into her back.

In the final chapters of CC2, when Bryce reaches the Asteri palace, it is said that an eye opens within her soul, and "snarls."

This begs the question; is there someone inside Bryce as well...?

Interestingly, after the Horn was healed and Bryce is racing to save the humans, the Prime of the Wolves looks at Bryce and refers to her as a "wolf." As he says this, he points to his heart.

Similarly, when Bryce meets the Prime again in CC2, he once again refers to her as a "wolf" and taps his chest - his heart.

But, the Prime isn't referring to Bryce. He's referring to Danika.

Bryce's best friend, the wolf-shifter... the one who is always inside of Bryce's heart... literally.

Danika told Baxian that she was trying to find a way into a new world. But, she also knew that she was going to die before this could happen.

Perhaps it's then no coincidence that Danika inked the Horn on Bryce's back; creating a gate inside of Bryce - one that she could enter, even after death, should she need it.

Danika inked the Horn in the "language of universes" - Wyrdmarks.

In doing this, she spelt out the phrase "through love, all is possible." When Hypaxia asks Bryce about this very phrase on her back, Bryce explains the meaning: that she and Danika will never be parted.

Danika says the same thing herself; that even if Bryce cannot see her... she will always be there.

And, I don't think these are just pretty words. Because, through the Horn - a gate into Bryce's soul - Danika's own soul resides.

This explains how, after the Horn was healed, Bryce was able to the Drop.

The Drop is a descent into one's soul. When Bryce does the Drop, when she descends into her own soul... she found Danika there.

But, this raises an interesting question; can any deceased or otherworldly being enter Bryce through the Horn?

Or... is Danika someone important?

Given the theme of reincarnation within the SJM universe... it is possible that Danika was once a god, or a higher being, herself?

Well, the name Danika means "morning star." Or, otherwise known as Sirius.

In the Crescent City world, Sirius was the seventh (and long deceased) Asteri.

Sirius was known as the WOLF STAR.

Further, within various strains of mythology, Danika is known as the Goddess of Dusk.

...Danika's search for Dusk's Truth.

...The Horn, given to Bryce by Danika, is a beacon to Prythian. To the Dusk Court.

The Dusk Court (most likely situated on the Prison Island), with the same marking of the eight-pointed star.

The symbol of the Starborn fae.

The symbol of the Gods.

With SJM's next (multiverse?) series speculated to be called Twilight of the Gods...

Twilight being another word for dusk...

It's all coming together.

(And, as an additional headcanon - if this theory is true - I wonder if this is all leading up to Starfall - the migration of souls. That we will see Danika's soul leave her place inside of Bryce, and join the other souls in the sky - destined to be reborn once more).