#pls the thought of it is so amazing

[derangedthots]

so i was thinking abt how harry said when he auditioned for jace that the other actors were taller+buffer than him and he thought he wasn't gonna get the role...imagine one of those actors ends up getting cast for cregan

[samberrybay]

This part in 32 chp always felt kind of odd to me and this is the reason why:

The coward wolf boy, Lock. Until Choi Han found him, Lock had been hiding as the chief had told him. The Lock at that point is very much a coward, a weakling, and kind of slow. In simple terms, Lock easily took the position of the character that readers found to be extremely frustrating.

This has bothered me since I first read the novel, and to this day, even after several rereads, it still haunts me.

Cale simply isn't the type of a person to actually call a kid, no matter how they behave, to be "frustrating".

(When the text said "readers" it's damn well obvious of Cale being the one to think so.)

Pondering for some time I can roughly guess why the wording was so unexpected for his character.

At the time of the assassination/kindaping in the village, Lock was only thirteen years old. He also hasn't had his first berserk transformation yet. Therefore it is not surprising that Lock's uncle hid him and told not to go out, saying that everything was fine and he should continue to hide.

Now let's look at the situation realistically.

Lock (in tcf) jumps out of his hiding to protect his younger siblings. The adrenaline and inner Blue Wolf Tribe's instincts to protect turned on his berserk transportation one year beforehand, however if not Rosalyn and Choi Han, who came earlier than in the actual novel, i don't think it would help much.

Lock would possibly be able to kill a few people or at least seriously injure them, but CMON. They killed an ENTIRE village full of berserk Blue Wolf's and with almost-Wolf King (Lock's uncle). Do you really believe that a thirteen years old boy jumping into his first berserk transformation would be able to fight properly against strong organization that had holy water or some sort of holy artefact on their hands?

Again, if not for Choi Han's and Rosalyn's arrival... it would have definitely ended pretty bad.

In TBOAH Lock for some reason didn't jump out. Different circumstances, wrong wroted part in the novel, idk, but the fact is stated: Lock stayed hidden. He also most likely survived only because of Choi Han's help. Just with much worse scenario where he was left alone from the whole village.

And it wasn't Lock's fault yet again. He was a child. No matter if a Beastman one or not, the boy was just an innocent, naive and weak child.

So why would Cale, Kim Rok Soo at the time, find him frustrating? Extremely so even!

The answer is much easier if you think about it.

Because it wasn't Kim Rok Soo blaming a kid for being weak and cowardly in a fearful situation, it was a man who saw his own past that he hated so much.

A coward, a weakling and kind of slow.

For Rok Soo, who blamed himself for half of his life for the deaths of team one members, Lock was like a salt for still open, but ignored wounds.

KRS greatly disliked and maybe even envied Lock for a bit. The boy got a new family, he got friends and some sort of guidance from them even after facing so much despair.

While he was all alone, trying to understand what to do on his own.

It sure is irritating for Rok Soo.

Yet Team Leader Kim Rok Soo was probably unable to fully hate Lock for his weakness, because while the latter was still a kid, the same forgiveness can't be used on him. At least in his own head.

So with conflicting feelings Cale settled on "Extremely frustrating" description.

[panoffrying]

I suddenly really had the urge to draw sun and moon so here y'all go lol.

ALSO, the art pose template thing, I found it on Pinterest already reposted by someone else and I made an effort to search for the og artist, but I had no luck. here's the template THIS IS NOT MINE

[fatuismooches]

Alright I know I'm only supposed to talk about the Harbingers on here,,, but I really can't get this little thing out of my head so please indulge me 🤲

Breaking up with Neuvillette (angsty I know but hear me out). Due to his important position, he has a large workload and you often don't see him, resulting in you feeling lonely. Not to mention he's bad at showing emotion and his face kind of has the same expression all the time which makes you uncertain if he even enjoys your presence at all. Along with some other things, you just feel uncared for and think that he doesn't love you (which is absolutely not the truth) and ultimately break up with him. And it just gets you more upset when he doesn't even seem to react that much!

But right after you leave, it starts to... rain. For some bizarre reason. It usually only rained during trials. So why was it raining now? But you soon lose interest, after all, it doesn't concern you. But the weather remains horribly murky and gloomy for the rest of the week. A lot of people wonder why, the old story of the Hydro Dragon being sad popping up here and there, but no one could ever know for sure. Little did you know you were the cause of this rain. And you had no idea how much your ex was hurting now.

SO basically just angst to fluff hurt/comfort mutual pining as the two of you want each other back so badly but literally cannot hold a whole conversation anymore since you're still bitter about the whole thing while he's trying to be respectful as possible (his heart is breaking every time you refuse to look at him and the weather goes to shit five minutes later)

OH but the Melusines love Neuvillette so they automatically love you a lot too, they think you two are the perfect couple! So you can't just go and break their hearts about the breakup! This leads to you having to still act like a couple every now and then with Neuvillette in front of them so as to not raise suspicion which is the hardest thing you've ever done.

[muchcelebrated]

PSA: If you loved My Lady Jane you should watch The Artful Dodger! It has immaculate romance and banter and angst and the two leads (Thomas Brodie Sangster and Maia Mitchell) have great chemistry!

It’s got great writing and is a part period drama, part medical drama, part romance, and has heist elements! I also really can’t overstate how great the romance is!

[crazy-fangirl2524]

Andrew Minyard puts on his black combat boots and black armbands. He wears his black hoodie because Andrew is not like other boys. His newest teammate Neil Josten has an aura of danger that Andrew knows he is better off not getting close. But Andrew cannot help it. He is like a moth drawn to a flame. Neil’s untamed auburn hair that is never styled yet it is messy in an effortless way and his big blue orbs that must have a lot of hidden secrets. Andrew knows he should not play with fire but with that toned body Andrew minyard can not stay away.

Whatever, not like Neil josten would notice him anyways. He is the outcast in his teams and no one likes him. Neil josten would not care about him.

Imagine Andrew’s surprise when Neil josten joins him on the roof and shares his secrets. Andrew is right, Neil has a very dark past that is even darker than Andrew’s. Neil is involved in the mafia! But because Andrew is not like other boys he does not care and promise to protect Neil even though Andrew probably cannot do anything if anything happens. Neil probably has to be the one to save Andrew.

Neil also turns out to be loaded and he buys Andrew a car when his was destroyed and Andrew cannot say no to a Maserati.

Everyone else on the team is so shock when super attractive good looking Neil josten will choose to be with someone like Andrew minyard but Neil does not care and growls at anyone that says anything bad about Andrew.

[soothedcerberus]

A really sweet commission I got from Casey White! 🥹🥺

[allastoredeer]

~Lucifer blanches. He looks around, as if trying to find a sense of Alastor’s words somewhere in the trash-heap he calls a room, before rounding back to him, lips pulling up in disgust. “Are you asking me out?”

“Ahaha!” Alastor laughs, slapping him so hard on the back it nearly takes Lucifer off his feet. “Oh, Heavens no. I’m just proposing we let Hell continue thinking that you and I are,” he waves his hand, searching for the word, “in cahoots. In that way.”~

This is golden comedy right here. Honestly every time I read ur fic I always start wheezing so hard I can’t breathe, u are an amazing writer, hope u know that. When I saw ur last update on the ‘damage control’ chapter i was so excited i devoured it so fast help

Alastor saying he wants to be in ‘cahoots’ with Lucifer it’s so funny to me cause no one use that term anymore, and Lucifer is just downright dumbfounded that they are even having the conversation. I can imagine the shadow rolling his eyes at them, we need more sassy shadow moments, he is so underrated. 😭😭

I love that Lucifer is trying to respect Al boundaries, especially after the ‘incident’ , and doesn’t pry to much on his scars, but now I am curious about what did Al meant. Does he not remember who did that to him? 🥺

Also I am curious about what they gonna tell to the others about their new found relationship. I don’t think Lucifer would want to lie to Charlie, but I also think that it would be too risky to make the whole crew knew they are acting, someone might slip. And it’s not like Al is gonna make it easy for Lucy anyway. If they want to be credible, less ppl knowing it’s best course of action for me.

Last thing~ I really wanted to thank you, cause ur fic really brings me a lot of joy since I recently only been able to find happiness in small things like these , and I I can’t wait to read more🌈

Hehehe, Alastor purposefully refusing to go into depth about their "sexual relationship," and even side-stepping outright calling it a relationship, is what's going to make it all more entertaining when he actually has to commit to the bit. Cuz you see, they're not fucking. They're "in cahoots."

It's different.

(I love Alastor's Shadow being sassy. If it's attached to Alastor, it has to be. I take no critiques.)

😈 Alastor and his scars is something I'm very excited to get into it. I've been thinking about them for a while, and while it may take a bit to actually get the answer, I'm very eager to get there when we do.

The way I see it, Alastor doesn't want to tell the others (as they already know their not actually dating--as he made VERY clear last time), but Lucifer isn't going to be okay with lying to Charlie. Out of the group, Alastor knows he can trust Husk and Niffty to keep it a secret. Maybe Angel Dust too. But he's most worried about Charlie and Vaggie.

Vaggie isn't a good liar, and Charlie's such an open, bright, heart-on-her-sleeves person, he doesn't trust her to keep up the ruse without letting something slip--most likely by accident.

But Lucifer is stubborn. He doesn't want to lie to Charlie, and if he tells Charlie, Charlie is going to tell Vaggie. If Vaggie knows, well, we already know she has a hard time lying on the spot, so if the others see Alastor and Lucifer suddenly "in cahoots," and ask about it, she's not going to be able to come up with a plausible excuse on the fly.

This is all to say, the next installment is going to be full of silly Hazbin Crew hijinks, where Alastor is forcefully enrolled into Chaggies Dating 101 Crash Course, and he is definitely not setting the grading curve. (And maybe we'll even get a bit of HuskerDust thrown in there, who knows. Certainly not me).

And it warms me so much to know that my fic can bring you joy in a time that such things are scarce 🥺 I can't wait to share more of the story with you!

[gloryride]

Dogtown Nights

We're never safe in Dogtown, Vanessa always has her gun in hand, we can never know what could happen there ...

[oneluckydragon]

got hit with the echo+sora brainrot so i am once more rambling in your askbox about it. because reasons.

anywho i think there is something truly saddening about echo's struggles to make peace within herself and how she truly finds it hard to find that peace when she is so certain that if the truth about her origins were to be revealed to the world, much less to *sora*, everything she achieved, everything she worked for, all of which matters to her most, will crumble away in a moment's notice.

but the fear of losing all your life's work is none compared to the fear of losing sora. the feeling of poison that settled itself within themselves and between each other out of fear and tragedy of what had happened to them is familiar. echo's resemblance to dusknoir was already enough to set the two off because of how much it had all hurt to see someone you love and yourself turn into a mockery and a splitting image of someone who had pretended to care yet showed he never did at all, but this poison is louder. it hurts to bare, to carry, and to have none but yourself to be its sole holder.

but this poison, this feeling of heartache is different. because whereas the previous pain was something both of them felt, sora was lucky enough to not have known the truth about the person who she cares for so dearly.

echo knows that she used to be darkrai. and it haunts her to have known that her previous incarnation was so *cruel*, all for the sake of it just feeling right. wishing to engulf an entire world in darkness, solely for whatever desire she used to have.

and for how much she knows, how much she will hammer it into her own head that she is *not* like that anymore, that she looks at her past with sneer and disgust and that she will not be the barer of evil anymore, it will not matter in the slightest when she will have to look at sora if she were to ever find out.

how afraid, angry and dejected she would look when finding out, and how she will go on the defense/offense because of how much this will overwhelm her.

because when echo looks at her own shadow, she sees herself for what she is. she knows what she is, be it out of shame or guilt.

but when sora will look at it, she will see a tall, contorting and menacing shadow, towering over with a bright cyan eye doing nothing but looking at her, as if tempting her to make the next move.

and she defends herself. from someone she knows will not harm her. she raises her arms up in self defense from a hand that would never hurt her more than the world has already did.

she knows echo will not hurt her. and thats why she is afraid.

Oh my oh my OH MY, Sinnoh!!! YES YES YES!

HOW!!! IN THE WORLD!!! Are you so good at crawling into my head and creating these vivid analysis/snippets on my OCs??? I've barely shared ANY information about Echo and Sora because I've been wanting to hoard most of my stuff for when my fic is finally finished... but... I think you've broken my resolve a bit, if I'm entirely honest.

You know what? I'm so inspired by your accuracy and eagerness to talk about my girls that I'm gonna forgo my crippling anxiety regarding my writing skills and instead post a snippet of my WIP fic here as a treat for you. A teaser, if you will. Since I have no idea when the fic in question will actually be done and ready (or when I will be satisfied with it, cause the thing is currently 36,000 words and still slowly climbing). And now you've got me eager to share SOMETHING of my fic with you and anyone that might want to take a peek at it.

Please enjoy this conversation between Dusknoir and Echo. The topic deals a lot with what you'd described up above!! c:

[Note: this is an unedited part of my fic because I am still in the process of writing and it may change in the future, so please be gentle w/ me but I'd love to read any thoughts/comments that pop up while reading!! pls send asks or replies or anything really cause I love you guys]

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

“I’m going to tell you something now, and you are going to listen.” Echo commands with a sharp bite in her voice that Dusknoir cannot fathom ignoring. He pauses and then offers a slow nod, waiting, wondering what she could possibly desire to tell him at a time like this, of all things.

Minutes pass as Echo remains rooted in place, still as her own shadow, and her eyes dart around as she stares at the patches of dry grass and sand beneath her paws. Her claws clench and unclench, digging into the earth like daggers as the wind of the forest (it’s trees so close, just behind them, a looming sort of presence that could engulf them whole) whistles through the surrounding branches, carrying stray leaves of many bright greens through the chilling breeze. Dusknoir watches them dance around Echo, twirling, floating down, down, down… but it’s quiet, too quiet, and Dusknoir feels a shiver pass through him when Echo’s voice finally rings out through the silence.

"When I evolved, Sora was petrified," She says, nearly a whisper, an admission that melts away her confidence and appears to bring her a flood of both shame and regret. Her face twists up then, strangely, like she’d felt a twinge of pain from somewhere deep inside the very fabric of her own soul and was unable to quell it. "She couldn’t even bring herself to look at me most days. At first, my appearance… well, it reminded her too much of you. And eventually of someone I used to be.”

Someone I used to be. At that, Dusknoir’s immediate reaction is to recall Echo’s previous life as a human, as the miserable shell of a creature surviving alongside Grovyle that he’d relentlessly hunted in the dark future. A human made of contempt and anger and apathy, who never smiled or laughed or cried or screamed like the old legends said humans would-- an entity that simply existed rather than lived. An echo of a life long dead and buried. But, judging by her tone, by her voice, by some uneasy intuition itching in the back of his mind like a swarm of pestilent Ninjask… he knows that she means something else entirely. Something that she isn’t willing to share. And frankly, that concept utterly terrifies him.

Someone I used to be. Dusknoir wants to speak, to break his own silence, wants to ask the myriad of questions bubbling up in his throat because this isn't the first time she's hinted at another life beyond being human, but those questions die at the source like a flame doused in water. And always the coward, coward, coward, instead he takes the easy way out by doing nothing at all. Whether Echo notices his surge of inner conflict or not-- the nervous wring of his hands and the tremble in his spine that he cannot control under her gaze-- she does not react.

“I’d take a step and Sora would flinch away.” Echo confesses, her markings flickering with light before going dark and dead, as if her body wished to snuff them out entirely, a deep seated rejection, a self-loathing so strong that Dusknoir cannot help but recognize it and empathize, and his heart aches, “It took ages for her to stop shaking when I’d speak. To stop looking at me like-- like I was going to…” 

Echo grimaces like she’s enduring waves of grueling torture and doesn’t finish that string of thought, but it’s not hard to make an educated guess on what went unsaid. Like I was going to betray her. Hurt her. Break her heart. She’s been through so much already and I couldn’t bear to be another influence in the history of her suffering. I hate myself because of how I made her feel. When her eyes went wide in fear and through them I could see myself staring back like some sort of burden, some sort of curse.

“I am not my past.” Proud and true, Echo straightens up and holds her head high, a spark igniting in her eyes, a glint of determination, a will to keep going and going despite such circumstances and strife, despite this horrid, unspeakable past that haunts her so, “And I am definitely not you. It’s taken a while, but I know that much now. I’ve accepted it.”

I am not my past. And I am definitely not you.

A sigh, a breath, and Echo glances at him with a certain sorrow that cannot be described, a sorrow that lingers even through the veil of her tenacity, "But no matter how I feel, no matter my conviction, my shadows still find ways through the cracks. Every time I think I'm getting a grip and that I might finally understand myself… I change all over again." She admits, sounding more angry and tired than defeated now-- like a mirror of her old self, her human self that had clawed and damned and cursed him, despised him more than anything. "I hate it. I hate that I never truly know who I am. That I have to learn about my past through stories others tell me, or through fragments of twisted, broken memories that I wouldn't wish on anyone. Through conflict and pain and… and..."

"Echo," Dusknoir murmurs her name softly, an offering, a potential escape if only she would wish to drop the subject and forget this conversation had ever happened-- if she'd overstepped and needed an excuse to back out, a diversion, an understanding. And briefly, Dusknoir wonders why she is opening up about this particular information, why she would delve into something so vulnerable, so personal. Why she would bring up this hurtful history when it obviously brings her great discomfort.

And then, he gets an answer.

“You’re lucky, Dusknoir." There it is, that wildfire burning in her eyes again. A spark that’s new and bold and startling. But lucky? No, never. He'd have to disagree, accounting the mountain of evidence that was his life and regrettable deeds.

"You already know exactly who you are and what you’ve done, and most importantly why. You have more than a tattered picture of yourself that reflects broken answers. And you can change with that knowledge. I see you trying.” She tells him, searching, looking for something so deeply and Dusknoir wishes he knew what it could be so that he could give it to her, because he would, he would gladly give it to her without a second thought if it meant they could be close again. But he isn’t a fool, and he’s wise enough to know they’ll never be like they were before. “And if somehow I could change, even as half-assed as I have. Well, then what’s your excuse?”

You can do it, say her unspoken words, I believe in you.

[garmaballs]

cant a girl sleep on the floor anymore.

[manichewitz]

im happy to live in the 21st century bc i just got to see jacob elordi say on live tv that his first crush was on brad pitt as achilles in troy

[petalpawws]

[bechloesupercorp]

“Oof-” Ava slammed straight into the grass, sending plumes of dust up in her wake. Her muscles ached in protest as she dragged herself off the ground. Nope, not as young as she used to be. Reya’s realm had felt like centuries. To her, it literally had been, slowly aging her as she fought God herself to go back. What didn’t make sense though was Michael. Maybe he’d just taken the term “growth spurt” a bit too literally and just ran headfirst into adulthood. Nevermind that. Ava shook herself off, a jumble of emotions climbing up her throat at the sight of Cat’s Cradle. She was almost home.

The sisters were nice, but wholly unfamiliar. No Cam, no Lilith, not even Mother. And definitely no Bea. A trill of joy ran up her spine – maybe Bea had listened, and actually went to live her life. A spike of fear wedged even deeper at the same time – what if Bea didn’t want her in her life anymore? What if she had gone and done all these amazing things while Ava was stuck in another realm. What if Bea had outgrown her, like plenty of roommates had before, being adopted out or leaving for school and bigger things than Ava and witty banter. 

She still had to try. Beatrice had left almost nothing. No phone number, no email, just a P.O. box in familiar writing, paper aged with the tendrils of time. Even then, Ava could see that the strokes were sure, certain, like the Bea she’s always known. But they were lighter too, the ends of her letters lifting up just a bit, like even she didn’t know exactly what was coming next.

So Ava thanked the sisters and rushed on out.

She didn’t move as fast as she used to anymore, even with the halo thrumming in her back. But she trudged along, feet drawing her closer and closer to her final destination. The sunrise broke over the horizon as she plowed up the mountains. Of course, Bea would go back to the one place they’d shared. Not Ava-the-Halo-Bearer and Sister Beatrice, but simply Ava and Bea. 

The sun glowed against her cheeks and she felt like she was nineteen-just-turned-twenty again. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes when she realised that this could all be gone. Bea’s, but not hers. Who wouldn’t love Beatrice? She probably had a whole new life, new family, new love, just conveniently in the same place they’d learned to love each other. She planted herself on a park bench, just across from the pool she’d spent almost every free second she’d had at, and the doubt wormed into her chest, shredding at her heart til she could barely breathe.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” A young voice drifted in in German, accompanied by someone settling on the bench next to her.

It took her a second to respond, “I’m fine, thanks!” The language felt odd on her tongue. Thirty years had passed, but her mouth still moved, falling into a routine that was natural, but a bit misshapen, like clearing the cobwebs of an old hangout.

The young man had looked straight through her, with a funky little mustache and mischievous eyes. Ava wasn’t quite sure why, but in seconds she was pouring out her life’s story to this random stranger. She could almost hear the music in the background, like she had done hundreds of times to Hans before. 

“It’s been years, and I don’t even know if she’d wait for this long. It feels selfish to want it but–” The boy stopped, glancing as another figure settled near the pool, “Sorry, my father sends me each morning to watch–” Ava followed his line of sight and everything faded. Bea. Streaks of grey laid where the blond used to be. Hair still up in a bun, a few strands hanging loose and framing her face perfectly. Ava’s hand itched to tuck it back behind her ear. To trace the soft smile lines at the edge of her eyes. Good. All Ava had wanted was for Bea to be happy. 

She couldn’t help but launch herself at Bea, Halo giving her a little boost. Bea’s head shot up at the movement, cycling from alarm to immediate recognition as Ava’s feet pounded against the grass. Bea shot to her feet, arms reaching forward, crashing together in a tangle of limbs. 

“Ava?” Bea’s voice cracked, a slight tinge of disbelief, as she clutched at Ava’s spine, drawing them together as close as she could.

“Bea,” she whispered, gripping at anything she could. She buried her nose in the crook of Bea’s neck – she smelled exactly the same. A flood of relief washed down her muscles as Bea pressed her lips against the side of her head, tears dripping against Ava’s face and mixing with her own. It took a few seconds of stunned relief, multitudes being said without any sound. “You came home,” Bea sniffled, voice thick with emotion.

Ava drew back, hand gently tilting Bea’s chin, eyes searching for the truth she already knew. “I’m home.”

[skitskatdacat63]

I owe hoyo my life for adding new poses to photo mode oh my god.

[wavesmp3]

@zzoguri moni I’m slowly making my way through this piece and this line in particular absolutely ripped my heart out. I love your writing omg