#words of eons

[travellereon]

Someone probably got to this before me, but I haven't seen it yet, so I'm making my own sassy lil rant post about it!

We know that Hoyoverse is extremely lore conscious. I mean, take a look at the intense rewrites they do for Rukkhadevata's erasure! All of the Sumeru quests come with two versions of any line that mentions her, and they're played depending on whether you have or have not completed the Archon Quest. In all 4 languages, the team built in a hidden trigger that swaps out dialogue, changes voicelines, alters item descriptions, and even renamed a basic inventory item purely for the sake of lore consistency. They didn't have to rename the mushroom! Nobody needed to know the mushroom was named after a deity who didn't exist anymore! The Genshin team did that just for the sake of their world building and lore.

So why are Lumine's flowers still in the opening cutscene?

Lesson time kids

The flowers in Lumine's hair are the Inteyvat, the national flower of Khaenri'ah. That has been established since the main quest chapter 'Memories of Inteyvat.' Both Aether and Lumine will remark on that fact when they encounter the flower in the quest, saying that she's had the flowers since they woke up.

Since they woke up!

Hoyoverse polishes the daylights out of this game to ensure lore remains consistent. Could this really be a mistake on their part? It's such a major moment in the game when your character realizes the significance of the flower itself that I have a hard time believing this is a simple mistake.

The flowers certainly don't appear to change between the opening and the start of the game, not from where I'm standing. If someone can prove me wrong about the flowers being the same, I welcome it. But they really do look exactly the way they do in game from where I'm sitting.

It would be tedious, but they could edit the flower out if they really needed to. Hell, if they still have the full files for the original video, they could remove the flowers from the model in that set and re-render it for an update. They hid an entire trigger to swap out a massive amount of voice lines, written dialogue, lore, and even a useable item's name just to trip it based on where you stand in the Archon Quest. Hoyoverse clearly have the manpower and dedication to change this detail if it doesn't fit with their lore.

Lore and characters are the two big things that separate Genshin from other gacha games. If this truly is a continuity error, a video made before they decided the significance of the flowers in Lumine's hair, why would they not change it?

I'll tell you why!

Because it ISN'T a continuity error!

There's more than the 500 year slumber that we've missed. The siblings were in this world before they were separated. It could be insignificant, but from what we know of Hoyoverse, I'm betting it's not completely so. It might just be an emotional memory that will pop up towards the climax of the story, but it could be even more! It could be days of their time in Teyvat that have a great impact on why the Lost Sibling ended up in Khaenri'ah, and why they view the Archons with such disdain despite knowing Celestia probably forced them to participate in the Cataclysm.

This could be a major lore detail hidden in plain sight.

Now watch Hoyoverse erase the flower in the 4.0 update because that's always my luck

[favvn]

I must create and share it, not for the note counts but for the love of it. Note counting is the joy-killer. Note counting is the little death of creativity that brings total burnout. I will create without care. I will share it online and let the notifications pass by without a sound. And when the hellsite hides my creation, I will let the disappointment pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past, I will turn my eye to the inner truth: that my love for what I created will remain.

[efverse]

not pictured the nerd they have this much weird tension over happily walking over w a tray of food for all of them

[zenixromeave]

troy is? the only character whose name is not Some Other Word? blink, runt, lint, onyx, may, the list goes on...

[ardenigh]

kevs?

additional notes in varying order of importance

- idk yet how i want the white accents to show up so it changes every time. is he redhood or not? none of my business yet

- eule-vos as a revan sort of functions as a morally chained and regulated version of whatever was going on with the revan anecdotes in kotor 2. he's still a win-at-all-costs type of guy. he'll still look at people in terms of what they can do to further his goals. he's the butcher on a leash. he's toeing the line for now because bastila and carth get weird when he doesn't but he'll also swan dive past it once they are out of line of sight.

- so ig, like, the butcher on a leash but he can step out of it whenever. he just doesn't want you getting nervous because that will be a whole nother issue to handle. he can heel just fine alright

- its like 1 am and i'm thinking about that post compilation that's like. guard/attack dog metaphors applied to people. or like how the devotion between an attack dog and the one holding its leash is as tenuous, sometimes, as the leash itself i don't know man whatever that's about. eule has shades of that. i think it's hard for any revan to not be a little unnerving on this front

- smth smth hk voice to give the illusion of control until the end comes or smth you know? like master like droid is all i am saying

- if, to solve a problem, a guy has to die - but he's with someone he values and who would disapprove of an outright murder - eule isn't above puppetmastering a circumstantial rube-goldberg execution machine yk. like, after a point does culpability even lead back to you? not really right? it's okay he will make it happen don't worry he can work within your moral constraints. you don't have to feel bad about it and you especially won't if you don't know

- (with all this in mind, outings with hk and canderous are also great times to cut loose a little)

- i don't think he struggles to love per se so much as i think that he can't do it conventionally it's always going to be built with an undertone of implacable duty or something like pity. and if he loves you he'll do it to death, only it won't be his and it might be yours. no single person is worth letting the galaxy fall, not to him

- everyone who has taken darth revan ever and smushed them together with the entire concept of having loved rome more... genius

- as is par for the course he is not a romancer he is barely a crusher alright the only remotely similar thing he's ever felt was for yuthura ban for about .4 minutes and looking back it might have just been that she's amiable and understands the shedding of morality for a goal but also, like, she's really purple and that's super eye catching (read: kev eule-vos is my walking excuse to never not bring up yuthura ban)

[groenendaelfic]

Young Royals Fic Recs

so I've spent forever moaning about not having enough time to both read and write Young Royals fic, until I in my neverending genius realized that there's a simple solution for that, and so here are some gems I've been enjoying recently while out on runs.

I’m not in Love, it’s Just a Thing We Make by @unfortunate17 (5k, post s1)

Simon transfers to Marieberg after Christmas and Wilhelm's coping mechanisms couldn't be any worse. @unfortunate17 has a wonderfully captivating voice and is a great storyteller. This fic is sad and angsty and heartbreaking with a guarantee to make you feel all the feels, but the ending is hopeful and I had the best time reading it.

Misery Loves Company by FranFrantastic (23k, wip, ger, post s1)

a Madison & Vincent & Walter fic beautifully told and with great characterization. I love the character backstories, the thought and attention to detail, the friendships, how everyone's personalities are developed and really everything. Go read it now if you understand even the tiniest lick of German!

We're not who we used to be by @iwouldnevergetintofanfic (14k, wip, AU)

Simon and Prince Wilhelm meet as kids in school and become fast friends, but grow apart as they grow older, only to meet again at university in their early twenties. I got very emotional reading this because @iwouldnevergetintofanfic is insanely talented at subtly and not so subtly showing how completely different Simon's and Wilhelm's worlds are and how poor young Simon has to deal with racism and classism and discrimination constantly, always drawing the short straw while Wilhelm, despite all the challenges, gets to stay sheltered and naive. Oh also all the pining, jealousy and feelings which never went away.

[worstlovesong]

Was I always a pile of broken pieces?

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

every website having anything to do with languages nowadays wants to be an ✨Academy✨, wants to be my one stop shop for my ✨Journey to Fluency✨. you are not that special. i dont want you. i dont need you. im doing this hands in the dirt dirt in my mouth style. im not here for ✨Methods✨ and ✨Guaranteed Results✨. im not here for results bestie im here bc it feels funny when i put new languages in my brain. i dont need you to offer me ✨Courses✨ and ✨Personal Teachers✨, i just need you to be the least annoying way to cram 1000 new words into my passive vocabulary in a week. Stop Wanting To Be More Than That

[deus-ex-mona]

january is finally over…

[travellereon]

Imma say it

Cyno isn't looking to make people laugh at his jokes. He revels in their cringing and sighing. Anyone laughing is an unexpected bonus.

[purralyth]

turn the edgy gemsonas you made when you were 13 into fully fleshed d&d characters. it’s the right thing to do

[nerdalmighty]

.

[saturdaynightghostclub]

hey toady i love ur brainnn can i maybe ask for a lil donnie angst perhaps something to do w him being on the road 🫣 you’re an incredible writer btw :)

Drivin’ on 9

Come back, just fucking come back.

You couldn’t just get a job as a Sears photographer, could you?

They need you, fuck, I need you, just pleasefuckingcomehome.

You’re trying hard to curb the bitterness of your inner monologue. It’s not Donnie’s fault he’s all over the country, and usually it’s alright. You miss him, sure, but you know he loves you, know each night that he’s wishing just as hard as you are that he was back in Chicago with you. Usually. But usually his mother and oldest sister aren’t perched anxiously on your couch, backs pin-straight, trying to pretend it’s okay that you were the only one home when they arrived.

“I’m sorry,” you say, addressing Mrs. MacClain, “really, he should be home any minute. Usually he calls me from the airport to let me know he’s on his way, I can’t imagine what’s keeping him.” You’ve already offered tea, wine, whatever the hell’s in your pantry, but the MacClain women are here on business. That one-track mind must be a genetic thing.

Mrs. MacClain (you really can’t get the hang of calling her Lisa) reaches across the coffee table and squeezes your hand. “It’s alright, sweetheart,” she says, smiling through the strain in her voice, “I’m sorry I’m not better company, I’m a bit preoccupied.” She doesn’t want to say whatever it is she’s come to say until her son arrives. You understand. If it’s anything like what you’re suspecting, it would be tough news to break twice. Carrie swallows hard beside her mother. She hasn’t said a word all night. For all that Donnie’s family loves you, there are certain things they need to deal with among themselves; you imagine that’s why Jack and the girls aren’t present. As for Eliza and Mr. MacClain, you’ve got no idea. Your throat itches with unasked questions and your fingers twitch uselessly in your lap, wanting to do something, anything, to help.

The minutes tick by achingly, and you remind yourself that you can’t actually be upset with your boyfriend. It’s something you used to have to tell yourself repeatedly in the early days of your relationship: it’s his job, it’s not about you, you’re not angry, you just miss him. It took a lot of reassuring back then, a frankly embarrassing amount, to have you fully convinced that this long-distance thing wasn’t going to break you. Eventually you started to recognize his attention for what it was: love. It took you a while to get there–to accept it, I mean. A man can tell you he loves you until he’s blue in the face, and you can believe him, but how do you know for sure? How do you know, until you really, really know?

For you, the “I know” came at possibly the most inopportune moment it could have. It was the height of that first baseball season after you moved in together, and things were good. You had your work, and he had his; he’d fuck off to Cleveland, or Detroit, or Milwaukee, or whatever city on Earth the Cubs were losing to that week, and when he came home he’d hold you just tightly enough to make it all okay again, rinse and repeat week after week. You knew it was hard; you always assumed it was harder for you than it was for him. This was his life, and sometimes you didn’t fit, but it was alright. He loved you enough to make space for you. You never considered that he would be struggling just as much as you were (something you feel guilty for to this day). So it came as something of a shock when you arrived home from a rare trip to the office to find Donnie slumped over the kitchen table with his head in his hands and a half-drained beer growing warm and flat before him.

“What the fuck are we doing?” He’d asked without raising his head. He’d sounded so miserable. It caught you off-guard, having known him as a man of two temperaments: optimistic and optimistic-but-kind-of-tired. You’d tried to play dumb, asking what he meant, but he had you. “Baby,” he groaned, lifting his head with Herculean effort, “don’t pretend, okay? We both know this sucks, and we’re both acting like it doesn’t,” and then, heartbreakingly soft, “do you need me like I need you?”

Do you need me like I need you?

You did. Obviously. You do.

That was the first time you’d ever seen Donnie cry. Exhausted and heat-weary and worn to the end of his rope, he’d collapsed on the table, planning ostensibly to stay there. That was when you really, really knew. You knew that you were in this for the long-haul, for the good and the bad, and that you would do anything in your power, as long as you lived, to keep him off that goddamn table and in your life. And when you had coaxed him into a sitting position, when you were sure he was going to be okay, you said the thing you needed to say, even though you knew it would break him cleanly in two: “Fuck. You love me.”

“I–yeah,” he stammered, his face flickering indescribably between confusion and hurt, “I love you, I–you know that, don’t you? Oh god, don’t you know that?” He was terrified, you could see it plainly on his face. Had he not done enough, not tried as hard as he should have? Should he have done things differently, should he have been different?

And what on Earth were you supposed to say to that? I knew you wanted me, but I never realized you needed me. I knew you loved me, just not as much as you loved your job. Not as much as I love you. I knew, but I had no idea. So what you said instead was “I guess I didn’t realize…that we were on the same page about this.”

At that, Donnie had pulled you roughly onto his lap, each breath shaking like it might be his last, and held you fast, swallowing sobs to promise you over and over that things were going to change, that he was sorry, that he loved you desperately and frighteningly and truly.

To his credit, things did change. That was both the worst night of your entire relationship and the one that you absolutely couldn’t imagine your life without; what the hell would have happened to the two of you if it hadn’t been for that night? Your resolution was to stop pretending everything was fine and that it didn’t absolutely blow to be apart more often than not. An absolute, no-holds-barred, total bitchfest whenever the situation called for it, plus tagging along on the occasional trip whenever work could spare you. You kick yourself, wishing you could have seen this one coming.

The sound of Donnie’s key in the lock makes you jump. You clamber to your feet to meet him at the door, noting gravely that Lisa and Carrie make no move to join you.

“Hello, my love,” Donnie grins, moving to kiss you before he sees the look on your face. His hands go to your shoulders, slide down your arms, circle your wrists–you wonder if he’s even aware that he seems to be checking you for injuries. He looks you over, eyes landing hard on your own. “What’s wrong?”

You don’t know what else to say but “Your mom and Carrie are here.”

Donnie pulls you into a brief hug, squeezing you once before he passes you to sit in the chair you yourself occupied only seconds before. He looks at you from his seat, a silent plea to stay, but you shake your head. This is family business. You busy yourself for a moment with leftover breakfast plates, letting them crash against each other in the sink to drown out Mrs. MacClain’s hushed voice. Eventually, you drift off to the bedroom and sit on your bed fully clothed, wondering what proper etiquette would suggest you do.

It takes about an hour. The front door opens, then shuts, then Donnie enters your room. His eyes are red-rimmed and hopelessly lost.

“I, um…” he starts, shrugging around a deep, shuddering breath, “I was in Philly.”

“I know,” you say gently, moving to stand before him. He tugs you closer by the waist, eyes sailing over the top of your head before coming to rest on your face.

“No, I mean. I mean I was in Philly when he,” deep breath, “my dad had a heart attack.”

Alright, you need to play this one right. You nod slowly, gently. “And?”

“He’s gonna be okay,” Donnie murmurs vacantly, like that’s not even the important part, “but I was in Philly when it happened.”

You think you see what’s going on. “You being in Philadelphia has nothing to do with your dad’s heart attack,” you say, “these things are completely random, I mean–no, they’re not, but they almost are.” You’re rambling now. You’ve never been very good at comforting people when they’re upset. “What I mean is that there’s nothing you could have done differently that would have changed anything.”

“Okay, but that’s not true, is it?” Donnie asks. His words are the start of an argument, but his tone is one of complete despair. He runs a hand up and down your back in apology. “I’m sorry. If I were home, I could have been here when he–when he went in. I could have been there when he woke up. And what if he never woke up? He could have–,” he chokes, leaving the rest of his words unsaid. He could have died, and I would have been in Philadelphia.

There’s nothing you can say right now that will calm him down, so instead you wrap your arms around his neck and press your body against his, letting him hold you as tightly as he needs to. “I’ll drive,” you say, pulling carefully away, “it’ll be good for him to see you.”

You don’t need to elaborate, Donnie knows what you mean. Knows what you’re doing for him. He nods. Then he kisses you. When he pulls back, your skin is cold where his tears have touched it.

Maybe you’ll have to talk him out of quitting his job tomorrow. Maybe you’ll have to make a casserole and bring it to his mother. Maybe all you’ll be able to do is love him. In any case, there’s one thing you know: there will be no compromise. He’ll keep the job, he’ll keep his girl, and he’ll keep his family–there’s no other way for him to be.

[quirkle2]

“Still kickin’?” the spirit calls, gentler than Reigen has ever heard him speak, “Hey, Shigeo, look at me.” Reigen still has his hands cupping the kid’s face, and even though Shigeo blinks through the agony in his eyes and moves his gaze around to look for Dimple, he can’t find it in himself to remove his hold. They stay there and Shigeo seems fine with that, even leans into the touch as he sees Dimple and attempts to keep his wobbly attention on him. Something in Dimple’s face cracks. “You have to tell him, kid.” Heart hammering in his throat, Reigen looks between them both, feeling miles away. Shigeo, still breathing hard and still looking unsteady in terms of consciousness, takes a moment to register the words, but when they drill through his head his glazed over eyes widen just a little. The no that eeks across the room makes Reigen want to cry, it’s so small.

[fivedollarfred]

After near five whole months(maybe, i'm bad at math) I've finally gotten the chapter I've been working on complete!

Thank goodness! It is done!

onto the next one lol

[unproduciblesmackdown]

(genderly) chill as hell if i was only ever glimpsed / detected like this