#I liked the colorblind casting too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kannra21 · 5 months

Text

Bc I "love" (lol) Gege so much, I gathered some info on him. Pls DM me to add more if you remember anything

Pen name: Akutami Gege (芥見下々)

Birthday: 26th February 1992 (31yo)

Zodiac: Pisces

Born: Iwate Prefecture, Japan

he went to all boy's private school

Akutami has an older brother who's married. Yuji is strongly inspired by his brother who is Akutami's opposite. He is someone who succeeds in everything he undertakes: sports, studies etc.

he was never really interested in drawing or manga until 4th grade when his older brother bought Weekly Shōnen Jump. The Jump that he read had Bleach on it and that's how Akutami's love for Bleach developed. When he was in the 5th grade and moved from Iwate Prefecture to Sendai in Miyagi Prefecture, he was surprised to see that the kids at his new school drew manga

he started drawing manga by imitating his friends' work

so his Bleach obsession started in elementary school and his Evangelion and Hunter x Hunter obsession started in middle school

he wrote a poetry analogy called "Giant From The Clouds" in middle school, inspired by the Bleach mangaka

His previous works are Kamishiro Sōsa, No.9, Nikai Bongai Barabarjura and jjk 0

Yuji was named after his childhood classmate

Geto was named after the "Geto Korean Ski Resort", located near Akutami's hometown of Tohoku

he's slightly colorblind

he's a fan of occult, mystical practices and horror

he wears glasses

he cooks somewhat

he loves hot springs and scalp massages, he goes to dermatologist to maintain healthy skin

he exercises and he's trying to get in shape despite the busy schedule, workout is not as painful as it is boring

he's very grateful for his chiropractor bc of his stiff neck, he said that if he ever time-travels and meets his younger self he's gonna tell him "get in shape, seriously", he craves afternoon naps but tries to resist by eating sweets like Pikmin gummies (why's he so contradictory haha)

when Nakamura first debuted with the jjk cast and got to meet Gege, he was surprised by how young he looked. He also said that Gege has a calming voice

hobbies: he reads a bunch of novels and watches a bunch of movies whenever he can, he's busy with work most of the time

his favorite food is crispy thai pandan chicken

his favorite onigiri flavor is mentaiko, he loves Umaibo snacks, Schau Essen, potatoes, hayashi rice, ramen and seedless grapes

He's usually not a fan of name brands but he likes Balenciaga. He also wants to support Royal Host restaurant

he likes comedy podcasts like Arabikidan group

the first manga he submitted to Jump was a gag manga

when he was a student he found studying boring but he likes doing research on things that actually interest him (like engineering facts he needed for the manga)

when he was an art student, he didn't really like making drawings where the model stayed for hours in a specific pose. He preferred to sketch in 3-4 minutes

he relies too much on sketches, rough drafts and his editors (he says he's like a dog for the editors)

he has a habit of forgetting how to draw his characters sometimes

he's self-deprecating and he's sorry that he sometimes makes people feel awkward by being overly critical of himself *hugs him*

he finds it difficult to write Yuji bc Yuji and Akutami are fairly different, Akutami doesn't consider himself particularly athletic but he can relate to Yuji for being an "airhead" sometimes and does things when people tell him not to

he thinks he's clumsy and fucks up honorifics sometimes, he talks casually with his editor Yamanaka whom he has a beef with till this day, he reminds him to "respect his elders" (he's so Gojo coded lol)

He's so funny asdfghjhgfd

he's in good relationship with his parents, he respects them and they're very supportive of him

he cares about his mom's opinion on his manga

Toji's and Yuta's personalities are somewhat based on Akutami's dad, dad also reads the manga

according to Gege, jjk should've been a lot darker but editor didn't allow it

he's an otaku, he's a fan of Marvel, has Hunter x Hunter posters on the wall and enjoys Pokémon wii games, he collected Yu-Gi-Oh cards when he was younger, he's from the generation when Gintama was popular

He never felt hatred for Thanos from Avengers: Endgame (explains why he likes Sukuna so much lol)

his favorite Haikyuu character is Tendo and his favorite BNHA characters are Overhaul and Stain

he saw Brad Pitt in person wow

Idea for the pen name: Gege worked a part time job at the cleaners and learned what it's like to be humble in the world. "Gege" translates to a "person of lower status" or a "commoner"

he claims to be socially awkward with people he's not familiar with, he's not used to public speech but when he gets drunk he does a 180 and is blabbering a lot

people call him a genius with a great sense of humor, his editor Katayama says that he's a cheery and a cool person, much like Gojo

he bought a black mountain parka (like Gojo's) that's supposed to last for six years but he put it in storage after one week

he thought about dying his hair white (Gege stop with the Gojo cosplay)

he's a procrastinator, he's mentally preparing for hours to draw a manga chapter that would otherwise take him 30min. The truth is, he's getting tired of jjk and can't wait to finish it

he chose the cyclop cat avatar because drawing one eye is easier and no one hates cats

he said that he used to have a "type of girl" in high school but the more he grew up he realized that every woman is a good woman, he likes well-groomed women (although I think he likes girls with thick tights? he's a Hwasa fan)

he thinks that world can't be divided into black and white and that it's always a blur. Villains and heroes are treated the same because each of them have their own beliefs and ideologies that are valid

he isn't emotionally bound to any of his characters, he will kill whoever, as long as the story is interesting

he's deliberately not trying to sexualize his female characters, not just because of his parents, but also because he wants to leave a respectable impression. Mangaka profession is very looked down upon. He wants to change that

his net worth is somewhere around $12 million

he wants to stay anonymous bc he enjoys his commoner life, there's a certain freedom to being a normal person, he can go in public spaces without anyone recognizing his face. For instance: he secretly went watching the jjk 0 movie in theater along with the opening comments on the first day. A fan accidentally met him but he pretended to be a staff member

182 notes · View notes

nastyaromatherapy · 5 months

Note

Hiii I love ur work mwah mwah

Could u make some stuff for Gf Ethan as the readers Bf . Like a list of the different things happen to reader that they're unaware is by Ethan to trap her with him.

Ex: As Gf making the reader break her leg or arm so she has to relay on Ethan to take care of her.

Just a list of stuff like that

bf ghostface ethan headcanons 😽

wc: 700+ cw: mentions of sex, sociopathic ethan, reader's colorblind, a little dark but not rlly

๋࣭ ⭑ you met Ethan in econ class when your teacher paired you two for a project. you both hit it off instantly. it didn't take long for y'all to start dating, you making the first move of course.

๋࣭ ⭑ after that, the two of you were inseparable, two peas in a pod. you were never seen without ethan, and you never realized it was all subliminal.

๋࣭ ⭑ ethan was a master manipulator, a sociopath if you will. he wasn't toxic, he wasn't trying to use you, but he needed you. to be around you at all times. he knew someday you would leave him. girls like you didn't like to settle down, and often nice guys finished last. that was his ideology.

๋࣭ ⭑ first, he had to turn you away from your friends. he had to be your only emotional outlet. besides, since your friends were pretty sane, he knew that they would worry for you at some point, and maybe try and drive you away from him, which couldn't happen.

๋࣭ ⭑ he would casually talk about how he didn't like them while on dates, and he'd find the smallest things about your friends to turn you against them,

“the one with the wavy hair, yeah, i think she was kinda, laughing at me. it's okay if i'm embarrassing you, i'll wait in the car.”

๋࣭ ⭑ in turn, you would give the girls a piece of your mind and continued with your life, your long life in his captivity.

๋࣭ ⭑ now friendless, the only person you could talk to was him, which he loved. he loved whenever you were vulnerable and confided in him, even sometimes spilling a bit too much. you knew he had issues and was angry, but you never thought he'd ever actually kill for you.

๋࣭ ⭑ he could never let you know that he's killed before though. he knew you were soft and not like him. he was aware that if you had found out there would be no saving it, no coming back.

๋࣭ ⭑ so he did everything in secret, chalked it up to coincidence. you puked in bed, leading him to have to nurse you back to health? must've been the shrimp. the town is on lockdown due to the deaths recently, all of them being people that you despised or despised you? karma.

๋࣭ ⭑ the sweet boy persona worked so well, even having you fooled. even when he dicked you down into the mattress, claiming you, making you say you'd never leave him and that he was the only boy for you, you thought he just cared about you.

๋࣭ ⭑ he cared about nobody but himself. you were the closest he's ever got to caring for someone. he wanted to hurt anybody who hurt you, going lower than those who went low. but that was because he knew if they really hurt you, you'd be gone, and that wouldn't be good for him. it was always about him.

๋࣭ ⭑ even once, you insisted to go roller skating with some classmates you didn't even classify as friends, yet, but you would. so, he followed you. he couldn't just force you to stay home, but you needed to learn a lesson.

๋࣭ ⭑ he would cower around the rink as Quinn, his accomplice, "accidentally" crashed into you. For safe measure, she cushioned herself with knee and elbow pads. You, already great at skating, had nothing to help break your fall.

๋࣭ ⭑ you yelped loud enough for the whole plex to hear, your arm broken. Quinn was quick to apologize for the "mistake," it all being a face as she shared the same sociopathic traits with her brother.

๋࣭ ⭑ your friends took you to the hospital, and you called him unaware that he was still following you, already on his way.

๋࣭ ⭑ he coddled you when he saw you laying in bed with a cast on your arm, and you were quick to hug him as much as you could.

“I let you out of my sight for a couple of hours, god, promise you won't leave me again.”

“I won't Eth, I'm so sorry. I promise.”

210 notes · View notes

sleepynegress · 6 months

Text

So, I'm Watching Dollar Tree The Gilded Age: The Buccaneers (I apologize that this is a long one folks because of ADHD Romantic Period Drama w/ ~Color~ tangents)...

Okay... So, I have to preface this by admitting that Bridgerton never has been my great big thing. It's a cake sculpted from cotton candy.

Pretty and sweet, but not much substance. And very much leaning on the "fantasy" so everyone can enjoy the costume romance fun (but it does please me to see my marginalized players, playing well...). -Using an author's works as a base, who not only started with an all-white palette but was flippant and insulting in response to the idea of inclusion... And yet...

I'm just saying, it is something that the woman who walked away from ABC because an exec didn't respect her enough to get a Disney pass for her family, went on to make that lucrative author's uplift deal with, instead of say, Beverly Jenkins. I love underdog romances that aren't the typical het white bread. Give me the canon gays (I never got slash...but I love when it's canon, especially with color), the big girls, the dark brown skin girls, the Black couples, and the interracials, especially when both are BIPOC and there's no lag in charm/looks in the lighter half in some expertly lit, dressed, confection that makes everyone look as gorgeous as they actually are and there's all kinds of soft plotting and chemistry. Bridgerton for all its lazy ways of handling color, gave that. Everybody is hot. And the people that studios have typically just pretended either weren't "invented" yet or were all living horrible tortured lives of enslavement got to get the sweet costumed wooing, will-they-won't-they, ~romance~ treatment. But... being an obscure Black history nerd... I'm neurodivergent, so I have some deep-dive GEMS that I'll mention here that I NEED TO SEE DONE WELL, before I die. FYI I called Dido Elizabeth Belle a good 8 years before that was actually made. It is frustrating to see some of the ACTUAL interesting capacities in which some actual existing Black folks in history who did live interesting, not tragic lives, not given the big glossy budget, well-written renderings they deserve... In lieu of what has now, firmly taken hold as a trend, colorblind casting in known white works. See recent adaptations of David Copperfield, Persuasion, Tom Jones, & Great Expectations,

and now, this The Buccaneers (which like I said, is Dollar Tree, and *worse* the colorblind cast sister Conchita is using her regular-eggular Cali accent and...is not a compelling actress & her man is a jar of mayo) and baby...them costumes are Reign-levels of anachronistic/bad. It's the lazy jump onto the trend Shonda exploded, and Mr. Malcolm's List started (yeah, that short film was put on YouTube a full year before Bridgerton debuted). So, my point... Instead of *just* doing colorblind casting in old classic white period works... I need to see these ACTUAL GREAT stories of and/or written by or about the colorful people who lived in those societies. And this is where it could get long... but I'll do my best to keep it short... EXAMPLES that were gotten right and those *I need to see adapted*: ____

Interview With The Vampire is inclusive color-AWARE casting... The showrunner went beyond and actually rewrote the narrative to make sure the inclusion wasn't lazily done, but actually improved the depth of the source IMO. And I believe the showrunner is a queer white man. It just takes empathy and effort.

Passing... is a moody slow-burn horror based upon an actual work written by a Black woman in that period, and adapted by a white-passing WOC who not only lived the theme, but rendered it expertly.

Belle is often pointed to as a good example, but my nerd-ass knows Gugu's beyond AMAZING handling of the material elevated it.

Too much was changed from the reality of her life (IMO), still...Most period dramas are about as "true" and yall know I was not a fan of Sam Reid's over-dramatic ass in this... (yelling in that damn carriage for what?!) but he is PERFECT in IWTV. Sanditon being made, despite the typical side-character Black character issues...really was a reset because Miss Austen had already envisioned, in her day and above her class(!) a Black heiress as a character getting the Austen treatment, w/o any modifications the salty and ignorant would prefer to think is beyond "true history". ----- I have a little hopeful part in my brain that wishes it had the power to will capable adaptions of the lives of Carlotta Stewart Lai - middle-class educated Black woman who became a teacher & lived an "Anne of Green Gables" type of Edwardian life (more interesting really) surfing, having "bathing parties," and teaching Hawaiians with her Black family, Portuguese, Hawaiian and Chinese friends on the big island... Her life was w/o the stereotypes people assume all Black Americans lived in Victorian/Edwardian "America".

Gustav Badin, a Black man who was "Chessmaster" of the Swedish Royal Court in the 1700's...was in charge of the Royal family's secrets after the Queen's passing, really gives me intelligent queer Black man energy in his portrait and lived out a non-tragic life in a VERY white space many don't know we occupied.

And The Hunters... Who already have a short film and I've posted about it here... but I would LOVE to see an actual rendering of their lives in the Klondike, with their gold and silver prospects and son grandson Buster and daughter Teslin in Edwardian Canada.

(that is Teslin at the highest point in the photo, named after the lake she was born at)

(and the Hunters' grandson Buster ice-fishing)

All this to say... Now, that I've thoroughly veered away from my review of a middling show... I WISH THESE DAMN SHOWRUNNERS used a little effort in research and imagination and gave us more "true to life" renderings of Black life (and life of color, in these romanticized spaces) that isn't tragic nor the patronizin inclusive "fantasy"... That feels like it's smirking at me while saying "we know you weren't ~really~ here, but here! have a cookie!!" These people existed.

You don't have to *just* make inclusive versions of white works with the lie that you have to do that because thee above people ~didn't exist~. Nor do you have to be lazy when you do!! (see: IWTV) Right now, for me... It feels like for the most part we're in a period of very shallow "advancement" in period rep. And I'm saying if little old me can find the actual stories that could make AMAZING true history-based media. Why can't the more powerful people do the same?? P.S.

You already know I'm fresh off being mad about that shitty Bass Reeves show...but I'm even madder because I can't even say, "just make sure its made by Black people," because Jeymes Samuel (AKA Bullitts) gave us skinny biracial StageCoach Mary!!!

---NO!! I will never stop being mad about it!!

DO BETTER!! Have the empathy and care for the material, regardless, and don't rest on "I know what I'm doing because I'm Black" That male gaze won out over truth in The Harder They Fall *smh*

P.P.S I get the feeling the lazy adaptions are about cash-grabbing, what they see as a trend, and being all the ready to jump back into the whitewashed business as usual, that ain't true to *all* actual histories nor (as Austen proved) fictions of those eras or spaces.

P.P.P.S. On The Glided Age!! I do love that the Fellowes drama has Erica Armstrong Dunbar (known for her book and research on Ona Judge -another figure whose story needs to be adapted!!!- the Black woman who successfully escaped enslavement from George Washington's household and was doggedly pursued by him throughout her life) and Salli Richardson-Whitfield as producers... so, Denee Benton's Peggy is authentic... but as much as I like The Gilded Age, I want to combine Fellowes comfort drama... with a CENTRALIZED Black character... Why can't someone do all of it correctly?? WHY??!!!

#I am so sorry...#I may have to attempt to do a video essay on youtube to truly cover what I want to fully say in this..I #blah blah #meta #the buccaneers #the gilded age #bridgerton #black history #marginalized folks in period dramas in comfort period drama is what I want #and done WELL!!#give me sarah forbes bonnetta's life

163 notes · View notes

ride-thedragon · 9 months

Text

The Lack of Nuance with House Velayron.

I want to establish that the strange relationship to blackness in the show is confusing.

The show runners didn't write black characters. The Velaryons are Valyrian.

The cast is filled with black actors who draw parallels in their interviews to their blackness and this house. Without correction.

In a similar vain to how house Targaryen, house Hightower and house Lannister are all played by white people the Velaryons look black but are not written o be perceived as black in the narrative.

It's not inherently colorblind casting because the intent was to differentiate the Velaryons and Targaryens and to show how obvious Rhaenyra’s adultery is. It does, however, act in the same way. Their blackness isn't supposed to impact the narrative past that extent. Unfortunately, that's not how race works in media. Look at Bridgerton. For example, they knew they wanted to include racial elements to justify their alternate history while imploring colorblind casting and building these characters around their actors.

The biggest issue that comes from this understanding is that because they didn't write the script with black people in mind and just wrote it thematically to reach up to the dance, they end up sidelining and putting black characters into a lot of reductive stereotypes and fulfilling harmful tropes that contribute to the oppression of real world black people.

Laena is the second choice bride for Daemon, a white prince. He spends their marriage, making it known that he'd prefer to be with his other niece while not discounting the fact that they are happy enough for their circumstance.

Laena is a black girl who is passed over twice in the narrative for white women for different reasons. Her husband can't truly love her or their black children to the full extent he would her white counterpart.

Laenor is a gay man who can not do his duty to the realm and, as a result, does not sleep with his wife, causing her to look for a man who will essentially making his successor not from his blood.

Laenor is a black gay man explicitly traumatized during a wedding, not being able to fulfill his duty. His wife finds someone willing to do it during this time and he agrees to take the blame. The kid doesn't look like him. This pattern and behaviour continues because it can cost these kids their life. Rhaenyra actively contributes to the erasure of black succession for this house, choosing instead to sleep with and have kids by a white man.

Certain things work with this change. Corlys saying 'history does not remember blood it remembers names' gives 'I'm not black I'm OJ'.

The perception of success defines him more than the inherent loss of blackness he's pandering, too.

That wasn't the show's intention, though. None of my reading was intended to be placed on the story.

They made Laena into a sapphire who ended her life brutally after thinking it would be lost to childbirth.

The statistical and historical relationship to black women and childbirth was a burden the show runners did not consider.

It gets worse when the writers call it a 'dragon riders death' because it's so much more brutal than the death she endures in the book. A black woman chooses a brutal death as opposed to being helpless in childbirth. That's not imagery that was utilized well.

Laenor rededicating his life to his family after his sisters death only to be replaced by a white man and killed off violently (not really though, he just abandoned his family).

They also casually make him and his dad absent fathers.

With Corlys, they unknowingly employ Uncle Tom tropes with him while making him absent from his family, and next season, a cheater with an outside family.

Vaemond is a black man being gaslit all around him, and when he stands up for what is a real concern to have in his shoes, in a moment where he chooses to be unapologetic and angry he's brutally killed by a white protagonist. They punish the black character who didn't want to assimilate.

Again, this wasn't the writers intention because they are not writing black character. With someone like Nettles, this relationship to the narrative will be clearer. The racism and prejudice she faces in the story are different from the Velaryons because she's perceived as other or black in this world. Like Missandei and Grey Worm, she's a black character in the universe.

However, the imagery that these things invoke can not be avoided just because you don't focus on them. That's even more reckless because you get the diversity points, claim there is a reason behind their blackness, and then utilize reductive tropes and stereotypes.

I truly think they should've utilized the Bridgerton method and attributed the difference to dragonriding and the fact that a lesser dragon riding family would still be better than a rich non dragon riding family and that their ability to have dragon riders now should evaluate their status even though, through the show we see it not shifting their dynamic.

Racism and the stereotypes that come from it aren't based on anything tangible. White hair dragon riders through marriage and people with white hair who inherently can claim a dragon by blood alone is the same nonsense racism is based on. It's not really an important distinction but a necessary one to perpetuate and hold power. It could simply be a prejudice that the Velaryons acknowledged is there and are trying to break through.

This is a good show. It was beautifully done with the source material they had, but consciousness when it comes to perception and duality are so important when it comes to media, especially when writing for marginalized groups.

I would've loved to see Laenor and Rhaenyra have a discussion along the lines of her icing him out of their family unit, replacing him during a hard time. Or him actively acknowledging the burden of his position as heir with Luke and relating to his inability to do his duty and Luke's burden of perceived bastardy.

I'd love to see a Corlys and Vaemond Arguemnt of Corlys' assimilation to the politics of Westeros and the identity of house Velayron being lost as a result.

Laena could've acknowledged her worth to their marriage, calling Daemon out on his complacency to their collective happiness and expecting him to be better would've ate, cleared and devoured.

Imagine that last scene coupled with book Laena's death. I would've secured the Emmy for Nanna.

Not only does this add to the world building, but it sets up future (technically past) relationships between the Velaryons and someone like Nettles. Between them and Targaryens.

I need a cold cigarette. I will end this by saying the framework should they decide to establish this better is already there. It's just unfortunate that we lost three cool people before the nuance would hit.

#house of the dragon #hotd #a song of ice and fire #house velaryon #corlys velaryon #laena targaryen #laena velaryon #laenor velaryon #rhaenys velaryon #rhaenyra x harwin #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon x laena #daemon targaryen #vaemond velaryon #house targaryen #race in media #racist tropes #black women in media #black men in media

97 notes · View notes

whatgaviiformes · 2 months

Text

Fic: Grannies (part 1)

A/N: When I am in a writing lull I default to two things: crafting and post-Hydrofoil/post-SOS. I hope this is still enjoyable - dedicated to the craftyfam for inspiration. In this part: Scott

On a new day, Scott realized he wasn't alone in the lounge. Sometime in the early morning his younger brother must have stumbled in, still encumbered as he was with the cast helping his leg to heal, but Scott had been too engrossed with the work begging for his attention to notice.

He apologizes for it now.

Gordon has used pillows to prop himself up against the arm of the sofa so that he's sitting, and there's a space right past the injured limb for Scott to gently position his weight. This couch is made for Scott’s height, so Gordon seems entirely too small against the decor pillows.

He’s healed nicely after the events of finding Braman - the strain on his arm and shoulder had just needed rest. Their caution saved his neck and spine, though he hadn't been able to escape the head injury, which still gives him headaches from time to time. And the leg - well that needed a bit more than just TLC.

Scott’s hand finds the ankle attached to the uninjured leg, his voice crackling a “good morning” from the lack of use and dryness he hadn’t realized was there. Gordon, with honey-brown eyes that shine with a knowing amusement, pauses the movement of his hands and lets the strand of orange yarn drop at the reminder of Scott’s presence. They both share in the explosion of color just outside the lounge windows.

Clouds like peach fluffs remind Scott of just how long it’s been since they were able to enjoy the dawnslight together. Prior to the accident, their routines aligned with daybreak, the timing of their exercises overlapping. Gordon’s, of course, included laps in the pool. The pool which was decidedly off limits with Gordon’s current accessory. Scott would often go for a run, chasing the sun. Scott’s not so much a fan of this new normal created by the Hood’s attack - the world where Gordon is unable to partake in what runs through his blood, and where the rest of them are spread far, far too thin.

“Granny for your thoughts?”

Scott shakes his head. “They’re not worth the - wait, what?”

In response Gordon tosses him a square of fabric, blaming aerodynamics when it lands on his own foot instead of on Scott’s face where he was aiming. “Well, I can’t reach my wallet and you don’t need my pennies anyway.”

“So this is your substitute?” Scott picks it up between two fingers to inspect it. He’s not trying to make it seem like there’s a practical joke here… but it’s Gordon. So there’s a practical joke here somewhere.

If anything, it’s the color combination. Gordon’s never been afraid of putting clashing colors together, though Scott’s never been sure if that’s truly fearlessness or whether it’s just Gordon being oblivious about it. There was a period when they were younger where Dad thought Gordon might even be colorblind - had him tested and everything. But when all was said and done, Gordon could see what he was doing when he dressed himself with one green sock and one orange - he just didn’t care.

The square’s got the same energy, the only pattern being that no color is repeated. Otherwise, it’s random and clashing, and oh so Gordon.

He loves it immediately.

Even the Barbie pink near the autumn orange.

“Can I keep this?”

“Sure. What’s one granny?” Gordon cuts the orange yarn with a flourish and loops it back through his work. “I have hundreds more where that came from.”

“Oh, wow, that’s … a lot.” Scott wonders if they all channel Gordon’s chaos the way his square does.

“Yeah, well. Not being able to swim is a lot.”

“Oh, Gordon…”

“Don’t. I’m irritated, and it’s not your fault. Pick a color for me.”

“Hmm. Teal.”

There’s a basket on the floor. Gordon reaches for it, placing it instead on his lap while he digs through his options. In the end the color he holds up for Scott is more turquoise than teal, but it’s close enough to the bird feathers outside the window, which inspired his choice in the first place, that he nods his approval.

For a while, Scott watches him work the green-ish blue over the row of orange. Without knowing exactly what Gordon’s doing with the hook and the yarn, Scott catches the general pattern: spaces over the clusters of color and new stitches where the previous row had spaces. Each row around the row before it with corners shaped into a square.

He understands the principle.

“What do I do with it?” he asks. It's small, despite the volume of its color. “Will it work as a coaster?” Scott hopes so; he could use some life for when working at Dad's desk.

“It's perfect for a coaster.”

“What are you doing with them? You can't possibly need hundreds of coasters, can you?” There's actually very little Scott assumes about Gordon’s logic. This is one he feels fairly certain about.

“Ha, no.” Gordon's sly smile would make warriors cower. “Virgil's making me a blanket.”

“Virgil is?”

“Well, yeah. He doesn't know I know. But it's Virgil so of course he is.” Gordon leans in conspiratorially, lowering his voice. “I'm leaving them around the villa for him to find. There's one in his favorite coffee mug right now.”

Gordon cackles. An actual full belly laugh. “I haven't had any sent back to me in retaliation,” he explains further. “Ergo…”

“Ergo,” Scott echoes, the pieces coming together. He absolutely understands now that Gordon is doing just the part he enjoys, a welcome distraction from his current misery. The injured aquanaut gets to enjoy the instant gratification of the small project while Virgil…

…does the heavy lifting.

That’s so entirely them it makes his teeth hurt grinning.

Scott glances at his square with a rush of warmth being welcomed into the language his brothers seem to share over yarn. He never learned when Mom taught Virgil her magic, but he knows it’s important to the two of them and that Virgil taught Gordon at the hospital all those years ago now.

There is still one more thing he’s wondering.

“Gordon? About these ends?” The square looks unfinished with the strands dangling with each color change.

“Oh, do they bother you?” He beams. “I don't mind them so much.”

Scott's gaze immediately jumps to Gordon's gaze away from the trailing yarn. That little shit. Virgil will hate that. Hell, Scott can't stand them unfinished like that himself. And Gordon knows exactly what he's doing.

“You're maniacal.”

Gordon shakes his head. “No, I'm bored. And Virgil likes fixing things, remember?”

#Gavii Scribit #fic: grannies #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction

31 notes · View notes

lordoftheweevils · 3 months

Text

I’m going on a little rant so you don’t have to read this. Might delete it later.

So obviously we’ve all seen the “forced diversity” discussions everywhere over the internet, right? Whether it be colorblind casting or casually queer characters, people always have something to gripe about. But what I’m here to say is I am always so grateful for casual diversity. Do you know how gratifying it is to see people like you on paper or screen? To be seen as any other person and not some anomaly? I am so grateful that recent fantasy books, especially middle grade, are taking the initiative to represent all walks of life in their stories, and not just as background characters, but main characters! So what I am trying to say is that even though some people complain about going “woke” and other crap there will be people (like me; and I’m sure, you too) who get to experience the euphoria of being seen.

#wilderlore

18 notes · View notes

apollos-olives · 4 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/apollos-olives/737378302267883520/taika-and-lin-are-both-people-that-i-want-to-like?source=share

He lobbied for PROMESA, an economic oversight board imposed by the US which most people in PR consider to be colonialist. Their approach mostly involves austerity. And then he performed Hamilton at a university that was on strike over budget cuts from PROMESA. He has a very white savior-y approach to his passion for the island (which I believe is genuine). He doesn't really seem to be championing the PRican people's issues in anyway other than by bringing Hamilton, which most of the students he's screwing over could never afford to see anyway.

That combined with his colorblind cast Hamilton musical lionizing the founding fathers just doesn't sit right with me. It’s giving Taika and his slave owner fantasy. But at least LMM was talented enough to make it work lolllllll.

[I will say tho, Hamilton doesn’t glorify or paint the founding fathers in a good light. Hell, the whole musical is basically about Hamilton’s downfall. It’s not trying to re-write history like how Taika likes to rewrite history, it’s telling a heightened version of the story of one person. It is not a play about the founding of the country, it’s a play about Hamilton cheating on his wife which did happen historically]

thanks for letting me know. also the musical most definitely rewrote history. "hamilton was an abolitionist" he was a slave owner and a colonizer. the musical definitely woobifies the founding fathers too. it's gross

20 notes · View notes

bethanydelleman · 1 year

Note

Please rant about persuasion 2022. I'm so glad I'm not the only one who thinks the movie missed the mark completely on ANNE

Oh, you are not alone, not even a little bit. I did this little rant a while ago. I've avoided talking about it because the anger was so strong online already when released and then there was the whole thing about how we 'purists' disliked it because of colorblind casting which was not true (though racists JA fans do totally exist, I will not deny that). Many Jane Austen fans loved Bridgeton and Clueless! We hated Persuasion 2022 because it destroyed Anne!

It also destroyed her emotional journey. Like this scene was teased and I already knew it would be horrible:

The thing about Anne is that she goes through Wentworth's return alone. Lady Russell doesn't want to talk about it, her father and Elizabeth disapproved, and no one else knows. No one! Not the Musgroves, not Mary, not Louisa. Anne must endure everything without a caring friend. No one notices her pain for chapters and chapters!

Persuasion 2022 Louisa is like, "You guys look like you were in love." Like honestly, I wanted this Louisa to have Wentworth because she was sweet and as cute as a button, but in the book Louisa was focused on Wentworth, not Anne! Anne was sitting there sobbing into the piano keys and everyone else just dances by...

And then THIS (Wentworth and Anne meeting for the first time)!

That is a dude who is happy to see you, not a man who is resentful and hurt. Like the movie could have ended there, just f*ck already.

The scene in the book is just so poignant:

Mary, very much gratified by this attention, was delighted to receive him, while a thousand feelings rushed on Anne, of which this was the most consoling, that it would soon be over. And it was soon over. In two minutes after Charles’s preparation, the others appeared; they were in the drawing-room. Her eye half met Captain Wentworth’s, a bow, a curtsey passed; she heard his voice; he talked to Mary, said all that was right, said something to the Miss Musgroves, enough to mark an easy footing; the room seemed full, full of persons and voices, but a few minutes ended it. Charles shewed himself at the window, all was ready, their visitor had bowed and was gone, the Miss Musgroves were gone too, suddenly resolving to walk to the end of the village with the sportsmen: the room was cleared, and Anne might finish her breakfast as she could.

Movies can do this! They can make everything around Anne go chopped and blurred out. They can make this scene exactly, I've seen it done, but instead they did... that.

Persuasion 2022 was a bad adaptation, but it was worse than that. It was just a bad movie. (I think MP 1999 you could argue is a bad adaptation but a good movie) Maybe one day if I feel like torturing myself I'll watch the whole thing again and write down everything wrong with it. But not today, today I'm actually watching for some baby chickens to hatch.

#random end note there I know #literally hatching baby chickens though #anyway #persuasion 2022 #dumpster fire #destroying Anne's emotional journey #like I did not even care about that letter #how can you ruin the letter?#It's almost impressive that you can ruin the most romantic letter in history!#anne elliot #louisa musgrove #captain wentworth

56 notes · View notes

jesncin · 7 months

Note

Did they colorblind cast the cast? I know some shows do that to give everyone an equal chance and so end up with a predictably colorblind first season because the writers literally don't know what race the characters will be until the second season. I don't know if that's a thing that happens to animated shows too.

I think that's highly unlikely for MAWS. The concept art for the pitch shows Lois as Asian and Jimmy as Black that early on. My educated guess is that they looked at Superman: American Alien, which also features an Asian Lois and Black Jimmy. Though I wouldn't be surprised if they had CW Supergirl's Jimmy Olsen in mind as well since that interpretation is more mainstream.

Lois is Korean like her voice actress, Alice Lee. Though her dad is voiced by Joel de la Fuente, a Filipino actor. I don't know if that means his character is also Filipino or if it's just monolithic casting at work. Jimmy's voice actor (Ishmel Sahid) is Black as well.

So in that regard I don't think they colorblind cast the characters. I mean, it didn't take CW Supergirl 2 seasons to acknowledge Jimmy's Blackness :/

#askjesncin #imagine getting outdone by a CW show #MAWS was a 2 season order btw so they knew how many eps they were getting #it's very unlikely that they're going to change their approach with the near universal praise s1 got #also can we not treat these characters as if white is the default and “poc characterization” is unlockable DLC you get in s2 #just let maws take the L on this one yall #jesncin talks maws

25 notes · View notes

aplaceinthedark · 4 months

Text

chapter eleven: JUST wouldn't STAY DOWN

Summary: Down in the Shenandoah Valley, there lay a court consisting of the Grim, the Drowned, the Witch and the Watcher.

CW: supernatural themes, mentions of vehicular accident, mentions of motorcycle accident, religious sacrifice, ptsd, large canines, bodily injury, body horror, graphic violence, religious trauma, blood, witchcraft

Every chapter will have a different cw section. This is Bad Omens rpf, so obviously I don't know all the little nuances of the members or their family members.

A/N: Some things are color-coded. If any of you are colorblind lemme know.

I tried to relax the best way I knew how: playing with the cats. When that didn't work, I tried staying still on my bed, but the scent of Nick was still ingrained in my sheets.

“Lyds, why am I so useless?” I asked, less to the calico and more to myself.

My only response was the sound of cat paws hitting the wooden floor. Great, even they were abandoning me. I sat up, watching Lydia move towards the dresser that was still pulled away from the wall. The lock box still discarded near it—

But not empty.

I scooted off the bed and picked it up. In his haste to take out whatever had been it, Noah didn't scoop out some papers that had stuck to the bottom.

It looked like notes, like mine, but attached to it was a page from a book, or maybe a handbook:

"Beyond the conceptual or abstract, it is an existence born of darkness and light, manifesting in every corner of our world. This Divine Power cannot be wielded or controlled by humankind, but merely channeled through distinct means. The greatest way to channel Divine Power is to become a Vessel for the Truth.

To become a proper Vessel, one must be completely open to receive the Truth. To be open, one must be empty: all unnecessary thoughts and emotions must be cast aside in a process called Hollowing. Hollowing occurs at the end of one's journey to seek Truth.

Once the Hollowing is complete and one has become an Empty Vessel the Truth may then fill that void using the Ritual of Cleromancy. Those filled with the Truth are fully enlightened, a receptacle of knowledge and Divine Power. Imbuement is the greatest privilege for those who seek the Truth, as all who journey strive to reach this peak."

And then on the paper, written in a small, clipped handwriting:

"RITUAL OF CLEROMANCY = STAB SOMEONE IN THE GUT"

God, even back then Noah was a blunt bastard.

I shook the lockbox, thinking something else might've gotten stuck, and I was rewarded with something metallic and small dropping out of the box. It bounced, and Jerry scrambled to chase it, batting at it with his paws. I quickly retrieved it before he would try and chew on it.

It was a small ear spacer, almost the size of a stud. It had to be Nick's, from when he started to stretch his lobes.

That's when I heard noises from the other side of the house “Taylor?” I heard Folio call.

“Coming!” I scrambled up and out of my room. I ran to my living room where—

"What the fuckin' hell?” I shouted.

Folio’s hands and mouth were coated in blood, but Noah was almost drenched head to toe in it. He had shed his shirt and jacket, and this close I could make out the pattern of symbols tattooed from his collarbones to his hips. And despite his human appearance, the branch-like antlers were present.

“Like what you see?" Noah asked after popping his jaw, a sound like several twigs snapping accompanying the motion.

I was too grossed out to be angry at his comment. “What the fuck did you guys do to him?”

“Interrogated,” Folio said, grinning. God, his fangs were dripping blood still.

"When you said bloody, I didn't think this much—“

“There's a lot of blood in a human body,” Noah said, wiping his bloody mouth with the back of his hand, which didn't do much since that was covered in blood as well.

I swallowed. Surprisingly I didn't feel like throwing up. “Did you at least get something out of the guy?”

“Well, we definitely got his intes—“

Noah smacked Folio upside the head, earning a small growl. “No location, but Jolly's working on that. But we got the reason behind all this.”

“Between all the screaming," Folio added.

“They’re going to try and resurrect the old Watcher, so they can go back to the old ways. And since it’s not one of the Days of Power, they’re using a practitioner for the Ritual,” Noah said. “They were going to use Granny, but they took Nick when he showed up unexpectedly.”

My vision started spinning. The Ritual. “Cleromancy,” I muttered.

“How did you—“

“You left some stuff behind,” I said. My legs felt too heavy to move, so I couldn’t get the handbook page. “We have to find him. I can’t…”

I couldn’t lose Nick. Not after I’ve lost so much already.

“Is there a way we could speed up the locating process? Jolly only has maybe eight hours, and has fifty miles to cover,” Folio said.

“If you know another way, I’m all ears dude.”

My eyes fell on my coffee table while they conversed. Amongst the papers we had abandoned last night, the little red string stood out like a fresh wound.

"What if we get separated?"

"This helps with that as well. Unless you'd rather I hold your hand the entire way?"

I don’t know why I threaded the string through the ear spacer, nor why I tied the string around my wrist. I wasn’t a practitioner, nor a witch. Was it a good luck charm? A pathetic excuse to connect to Nick? It wasn’t even that great of a job, since I did it one-handed.

Except I felt a spark of… something.

It started as a warmth in my chest and head, where my near-healed head wound was. It moved to my hand, where the metal spacer heated up and felt like it would sear my skin. I hissed in surprise and pain, pulling the spacer away, but there was no mark on my skin.

“The fuck are you doing over there?”

I turned around at Noah’s voice. He looked annoyed but curious at what I was doing. When I turned though, the metal cooled down. I turned back, and the metal heated up again.

“I think I just unintentionally casted a location spell.”

“So when did you learn how to practice?” Noah asked.

“I didn't. It just… I don't know,” I said, sighing.

This trek through the woods was a lot faster, even though I kept tripping and falling, due to not having Nick keeping me upright. At one point Noah suggested Folio carry me on his back, even going so far as to call it a “furry piggyback ride” after we refused the first time. Needless to say, we refused again.

I couldn't feel angry at him. Just… pity, I guess. “You got serious anger issues then. Probably should see a therapist about that,” I stated.

Unfortunately, Folio ran on ahead to scout the area in front of us, with Noah acting as the middle man if we had to change directions because of the terrain. Which left me with the man who just this morning had me pinned to the wall by my neck.

“So how long?” I asked. Noah made an inquisitive grunting noise. “How long did you have feelings for him?”

Noah was silent for a while, almost making me think he wasn't going to dignify me with a response, until he finally spoke, “Not too long before shit went down, actually. We… bonded a little after we watched Folio get killed.”

“Bonded? Is that a euphemism for–”

“No, get your mind out of the gutter,” Noah snapped. “We kissed once, okay? After i lost my mom, I stayed over a lot. Nick wasn't into it, and I respected that. We stayed friends, and I got a girlfriend soon after.”

“Elin?”

“God, don't fucking remind me. That bitch deserved her fate,” Noah growled. The thought of what that fate probably was had me pushing through another several moments of tense silence.

“You didn't get over him, did you?” I asked quietly.

“I did, in fact. When I was in service to the original Watcher as the Towering Man,” Noah said with a bitter laugh. “Being over six feet tall was a curse in school, and the Watcher just loved to rub my face in it.

“I would wait for Nick to realize that I wasn't dead; that I was right outside in the woods behind his house. Nick used to search the woods after the search parties gave up, turns out. I thought he had just given up. So I left, and didn't see him until the next Summer Solstice.

“I guess seeing him with you… brought back old wounds. And I acted on them.”

Noah was about to respond when he suddenly crouched down, pushing me down with him. “You see that fire?” He hissed.

We crept up on the scene before us. It was… horrifying. That was the only way I could describe it, but even then, it felt inadequate. It looked exactly how I’d imagine a cult would look like: dark clearing, candles, an altar.

I could only count ten members. They all wore black cloaks, and black masks that mimicked a deer’s skull and antlers. They all stood in pairs, except one who stood before a tall effigy made of thick branches, twigs, vines and leaves. And tied that effigy, in some kind of terrifying mockery of the crucifixion, was Nick.

I had to clamp my hand over my mouth to middle the sound of my choked sob. From this distance, I couldn’t see if he was alive or not; just that he was covered in blood.

“What do we do now?” I asked.

“Wait for Jolly to lure them to the river. He's not far,” Noah said.

My stomach churned when I looked back at Nick. A part of me wanted to rush the cultists and get him down, but I knew with my disabled hip I wouldn't be able to take on ten people who may or may not have something to stab me with. At least one person had to if they were going to try to sacrifice Nick.

Just then, one of the cultists brought out a small drum, starting to tap out a rhythm that was simple but loud. I could compare it to what my heartbeat felt like.

The one that was closest to Nick, who stood out amongst the others because their mask’s antlers were blood-red instead of black like the others, held up a hand. “We will now drink from the Cup of Fate,” the leader called out.

“Come on, Jolly. Any second now,” Noah hissed from behind me.

“Our words uttered into the formless void.”

“Our words uttered…” the cultists parroted back.

“Reverberate through the space between space, between space.”

The rhythmic beating of the drum and the smell of smoke was almost hypnotizing. More so than the one time I heard Jolly’s guitar playing…

“We are heard by THAT WHICH WATCHES OVER US, so it may lift one heavy, eager eye in our direction.”

“You don’t think they have the drum to dispel Jolly’s song, do you?” I whispered to Noah.

“We are heard by those who shall always be nameless—“

“Fuckin’… shit!” Noah cursed.

“—whose incorporeal arms reach for us—“

“Alright, Folio, get in there.”

“—uniting us in unbodied observance, until we are heard no—“

The chant was cut off by the sound of a long howl. The drum stopped, and when the howl faded, I could hear the sound of a guitar and a clear voice singing:

“If God came down from His kingdom; He came down from His home, and we asked Him if He would take us back, He would surely tell us no.”

Noah had warned me of Jolly's songs, which was why I brought some small ear plugs that blocked out certain frequencies. It just so happened to block out any siren-esque frequencies as well.

What they didn't block out was the absolute chaos that came next.

They didn't block out the sounds of creaking wood and snapping branches behind me as Noah shifted into his other form. They didn't block out the sounds of Folio’s paws thundering through the forest, nor his snarls. They didn’t block out the screams as some people were ripped apart by Folio’s jaws. I had to block it all out myself.

I looked up as Noah’s deformed shadow fell over me. He looked down at me through a deer’s skull, which from this angle, I could see was melded to his face. His large, glowing white eyes pierced the darkness.

GET TO NICK.

I didn't need to be told twice.

As Noah loped towards the remaining cultists, I bolted towards Nick as fast as I was able to. I almost slammed face-first into the effigy when I skidded to a stop, but I caught myself by digging my fingers into the cracks between the sticks. The carnage behind me was still unfolding, even as I heard Noah unleash an unearthly shriek. Using a small pocket knife to cut Nick’s legs free, I soon had to climb the effigy to free his wrists.

That's when I heard a small noise come from him. I pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat and his chest rise and fall. I almost collapsed in relief. “Nick? Nick, hold on. We're gonna get you out of here,” I sputtered, moving my hand to cup the side of his face. His eyes fluttered open at the touch. They looked drained of color in the dim light.

“Hey, you’re gonna be alright, okay? I’m gonna get you out of here,” I repeated, trying to keep him conscious. “I'm gonna cut this one rope, and I'll try to catch you, but we might take a fall–"

I had cut through the rope, finally freeing him, and Nick started to slide down. I managed to catch him, but I couldn't compensate for the near-dead weight in time. As my footing slipped, I tried to catch us by grabbing onto the effigy. The wood tore my hands up. I hissed in pain, but held on for dear life; more for his and less for mine.

My feet touched the ground, followed by Nick's. Luckily he was only half a foot taller than me, because otherwise this would've gotten awkward as I wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

I searched wildly for Noah. Thankfully, he was easy to spot. I got him!! I screamed out into the ether in his direction.

GO! RUN!

Just then, a dark force barreled into me, launching me and tearing Nick from my arms. As I landed on my bad hip, a visceral scream of pain tore up my throat. In my dazed state, I barely saw the same force kick me with what seemed to be supernatural strength, as I heard bones crack as I flew several feet away and landed on my back.

“You who are empty, I shall guide your step. Lo, though you envy, envy not. Lo, though you covet, covet not.”

Despite the agonizing pain in my side, I managed to turn myself over onto my stomach. Vision spinning, I was able to find Nick, who had managed to push himself up onto his elbows. I started to pull myself toward him.

“You who are empty, I shall see through your eyes. Lo, though you toil, toil only for me. Lo, though you suffer, suffer only for me.”

A strong hand grabbed the back of my skull, tearing some of my hair out from its bun and my scalp. The pain was dulled, thanks to the adrenaline. The voice that hissed in my ear was the same voice as the leader.

“You who are empty, I shall be with you and within you. You who are empty, you shall want no longer.”

He suddenly let me go, a wave of dizziness and fog overcoming me as I collapsed back to the ground, face smashing into the hard ground. I groaned into the pavement as the adrenaline faded, and my entire left side felt like it had been scorched. I couldn’t feel my legs.

I sucked in a deep breath, though it hurt my chest to do so, and shifted my head to where my cheek was pressed against the hot asphalt. Someone’s headlights illuminated the entire crash scene, but my eyes immediately fell upon a masculine body that was several feet away, blue-gray eyes fixed on me. Eyes that pleaded for me.

I forced my body to move, even if it was just my arms. I clawed at the blacktop, my weak strength barely getting me off the street, and I barely felt the twinge as my fingernails split and broke.

YOU CAN'T SAVE HIM.

Yes, yes I could. If my stupid body would just cooperate–

YOU ARE WEAK.

Why wasn't I moving?

YOU ARE EMPTY.

No. Not this again.

My brother was dying. Again.

And I was being forced to watch. Again.

Fuck, everything hurt.

Everything was hazy as well, like the whole day was spent underwater. Nicholas tried to think of the last thing he remembered clearly. Having sex with Taylor? That was practically so ingrained into his brain, he’d never forget about that in a million years. Noah being angry and yelling at him about Taylor having sex with Taylor? Yeah, that was pretty much ingrained into him as well. Driving to his grandmother's house, going through the front door, and then… That's where his memories took a nosedive.

He practically existed in a halfway state, up until now. Small flashes of consciousness here and there was all he had. He had tried to reach out to the Woods to try and gain some energy back, but he couldn’t, so whoever had him must've drugged him or bound his inner power. He felt like a battery whose insides were slowly leaking.

Except he could sense a little spark he couldn't quite reach.

It was like it only existed in the corner of Nicholas’ vision; whenever he would look directly at it, it would disappear. When he looked away, it would appear again. It felt familiar, the little golden light, like it was a friend—

Oh, that's what it was. The fact that they were still holding onto it was surprising to him. Maybe they did share the same feelings after all.

He had coaxed the little spark closer and closer, weaving his practice into suggestions that would lead them to him, until he could almost touch it. Except when was right in front of him, he couldn't. Why couldn't he take it? It was his, after all.

“--? Nick, hold on.”

With the sound of a familiar voice, Nicholas roused to a state of semi-consciousness, but that meant the spark vanished, leaving him in the dark once again. Except now he could feel. And everything hurt.

He felt his body let out a small noise of pain. “Hey, you're gonna be alright.” A warm hand touched his face, and he was so shocked at the feeling of something not painful that his eyes slowly opened. His vision took awhile to clear up while a slightly feminine voice kept speaking. Large brown eyes swam into view. Noah?

No, Taylor. “I'm gonna cut this one rope, and I'll try to catch you, but we might take a fall–”

He couldn't hear the rest because he was too focused on the feeling of gravity pulling him down. It quickly stopped, but not before someone let out a noise of pain. He then felt his feet touch solid ground, and Taylor took all of his weight onto themselves.

Except then he was flying again - no, falling. Everything hurt more when Nicholas felt his body connect with a hard surface, almost knocking him out again, but that darkness went away when an ear piercing shriek roused him more to consciousness.

Taylor. Taylor was hurt.

Nicholas pushed himself up and looked through the curtain of his tangled and bloody hair. He managed to see Taylor, saw their eyes connect with his, until a shadow descended over them. All he saw of their attacker was blood-red antlers, and his heart dropped.

He screamed in pain and terror and anger as he launched to his feet. He managed to land a swing despite being drunk on pain and blood loss. The figure, this new leader of the cult, stumbled backwards, and then a long, branch-like arm snagged him and threw him further away.

Nicholas fell to his knees next to Taylor. “Tay?” he shouted, rolling them over. “Taylor!” Their brown eyes were wide, unseeing, but he could feel their pulse beating frantically under his fingers. They would jerk and moan occasionally, like they were experiencing a nightmare. They were under some malediction.

“Maledictions are just what we call dark practice,” Granny had told Nicholas several years ago, when he was just starting to learn the practice. “These are mostly spells that are used to hurt people, like a curse or what ordinary people might call a hex.”

Nicholas looked up at the sound of a roar that used to haunt his nightmares.

Despite facing two paranormal entities, the cult leader was somehow still standing. It was almost like watching the fight between Noah and the Black Stag all those years ago. But that meant there was only one way to defeat the Stag, if he really was possessing the cult leader. Just like last time.

And to save Taylor from the Hollowing, he’d have to kill the Vessel the only way he could.

“That sounds intense,” Nicholas had replied that night with Granny. “Have you ever done a dark spell like this?”

“No,” Granny had replied, “they can steal something from the practitioner. You might not even feel it, but the malediction can take something from you. The darker the malediction, the bigger the sacrifice.”

Using what little of his inner power he had left, Nicholas scooped a handful of dirt and rubbed it between his palms. “Come denizens of the dark earth, banish the evil and let it be no more,” he muttered into his hands. He then ran and jumped onto the Vessel’s back, earning a surprised, unearthly shriek. He wrapped his hands around the man’s throat, digging his now-black fingers into the soft flesh.

YOU CANNOT KILL US.

“No, but we can stop you. And we’ll keep stopping you from coming back, again and again, until you finally give up,” Nicholas hissed into the Vessel’s ear.

WE WILL NEVER GIVE UP, FOR WE ARE THE VERY BEST AT WAITING.

“Then you can wait in Hell, motherfucker.”

Nicholas squeezed his fingers tighter around the Vessel's throat, speaking the spell he had learned those several years ago, despite being warned of the consequences. “May the righteous triumph over he who walks the untrue path. With this sacrifice, I bind your suffering. May you eternally wither.”

And under Nicholas’ fingers, the cult leader began to rot away, until nothing was left except the wet slap of skin and bone hitting the ground.

Nicholas looked up at Noah, who was shifting into his humanoid form. He could hear Folio limping towards them, and could hear Jolly’s song fading, meaning that they were all okay. All his family was safe.

He turned to look at Taylor, who was stirring to life. Nicholas let go of the cloak, breathing out a sigh of relief as the last scraps of his essence slipped away.

And everything went black.

Tysm for reading! Next chapter coming soon!

12 notes · View notes

haliteatiger · 1 year

Note

What are the drawbacks and pluses of your werewolves?

Oh gosh, it's been a while since I thought about this...

Pros:

Advanced sense of smell and hearing in both forms - better transformed, of course

dark vision, better low-light vision at least

easier to get into shape and maintain it, stronger and more resilient than average in human form. Higher chances of survival if gravely injured by anything other than silver.

No diet restrictions, in fact, you can probably eat more of what you love and still burn it off very quickly as, even in human form, a werewolf's metabolism is very efficient

Genetic hair loss, what's that?

Heal quicker than a human - a cut can take a day or two to completely heal over, immediately if they transform. More devastating injuries such as a broken limb can still take a few weeks, but almost half the duration of a normal person, even less if they transform regularly. (Barring complications such as if the bone is set wrong or the damage was initially catastrophic enough to do extensive nerve damage. Werewolves can still suffer long-lasting effects of catastrophic injuries and cannot regrow limbs completely.)

Weirdly more resistant to higher doses of radiation - although of course it will eventually cause damage or kill them. They can also be sensitive to electromagnetic radiation, which is believed to be tied to their strong sixth sense and some werewolves' abilities to communicate with the dead.

As mentioned above, more sensitive to the spirit world - some more than others, but generally all werewolves can sense an unnatural or unusual presence. I suppose this can be both a pro and a con.

Resistant to most forms of magic, but can generally only cast their own brand of magic, which is both innate and also draws on the (spiritual) power of the moon. All werewolves have the ability to even unconsciously cast low-impact spells that help them to maintain their autonomy from the rest of the world. So things like being able to momentarily slip between dimensions to avoid detection, intimidate someone without any apparent reason to be intimidating, influence someone enough so that they may not even remember your face and barely their interaction with you. This draws on the same sources that can cause them to transform, however, so if they are a learned magic user, can overspend themselves enough to restrict transformation. Subtle ones like those mentioned above don't seem to impact their energy as much, if at all.

Increased tolerance for pain and cold resistance, especially in were form.

Can be an embarrassment and not care, because you're a ferocious fuck-off werewolf.

Seemingly endless stamina.

Extremely long lifespan.

Cons:

Advanced senses can cause migraines, especially in younger werewolves. Also be a huge distraction as your sensitivity to noise and certain smells can be pretty severe.

Advanced healing = more severe pain and incredible amounts of itching during the healing process.

More sensitivity to bright light

Reduced color vision at the cost of better darkvision. Werewolves are mildly colorblind, more severely so in were form. Being a werewolf may only improve the quality of your vision through the subtle changes made to your eye over time through subsequent transformations. This phenomenon is referred to as "Transformation Drift" and can happen to any part of the body, for better or worse.

Repeated transformations too quickly can have some very annoying side effects such as migraine, body aches, nausea, and a feeling of numbness or "static" under the skin and in appendages. Can also result in hair growth that may not fall out even in human form and may take a few more transformations more evenly spread apart in order for it to go away for good.

Transformations can become quicker over time, but will always hurt. Werewolves tend to adapt to this, however, which results in an overall increased pain tolerance.

Transformations are mandatory and must be done at least once a month to maintain good health and prevent a spontaneous transformation. Resisting transformations can result in restlessness, irritability, mood swings, insomnia, severe hunger often followed by nausea and vomiting, fever, tremors, migraines, brain fog, dissociation, and depression. Not necessarily all of those at once, however. Fortunately, there are concoctions made by witches and the like that can treat these symptoms and stave off transformations, but it comes at a high cost.

More prone to certain conditions such as depression and various forms of cancer. May also suffer dementia later in life and "formlock" - the inability to transform.

Can come into direct conflict with their more bestial aspects, especially during certain times of the month when their "Other" or animal instincts are strongest. Some describe it almost as a separate entity entirely that has influence over them, others feel it more as a natural and integrated part of themselves. Particularly those who are natural-born (granted Bittens practically do not exist in this setting, except for Denholm, but that's a whole other basket of worms.) Discipline is required to keep this in check, otherwise the consequences can be disastrous. In more severe cases, this "Other" can manifest as an entirely separate personality.

Sensitivity to silver, albeit this can be mitigated through repeated exposure.

One must live with occasional feelings of paranoia - whether because they feel they have given themselves away or because they're sensitive to the presence of spirits.

Werewolves are strongly drawn to one another, being pack animals, and with their instincts being closer to the surface of their psyche than humans, will feel the need to be close to other werewolves in a community. Not all of them feel this way, however, and there are those - like Autumn - who seem content to be on their own - or are just at the very least much pickier about who they hang out with because reasons. But, for those that require it, it can be a very lonely existence as werewolves are quite rare, and it's never a guarantee you'll get along with the ones you do meet.

Animal instincts can make you seem impulsive and can cause trouble if you're too reckless.

Metabolism may be more efficient than any other animal, but it still requires a steady intake of calories. Werewolves can easily starve themselves, although their bodies will transform as a reflex to resisting death. This can have counterintuitive effects, however, triggering going full beast mode and becoming mindlessly ravenous until sated.

More dense anatomy = poor buoyancy. (Although, there are stories of werewolves simply having walked across the bottoms of lakes.)

Your life will revolve around your transformations, and you will find yourself making a lot of preparations in the event your bestial instincts get the better of you. Stuff like hidden supply caches in typical roaming spots, being sure to take out the garbage on full moons, no wearing tight clothing if you're at risk of transforming, someone just gave you a beautiful silver necklace and expects you to wear it all the time, groceries are expensive, and you need a lot of them, better become good at mending your own clothes, it's going to take way more than one or two beers to get you feeling drunk, etc.

Extremely long life span.

I think that's just about everything. Hope you enjoy this book I just wrote for you, Anon. ^^;

#words #werewolf #werewolves #creatures of alchemy #Haligren's werewolves #Haligren's werewolf lore

25 notes · View notes