“Beatrice is a very guarded individual,”[...] “I think her upbringing and her life up to the point where we meet her in the beginning of the first season has kind of forced her to become protective of herself and her true nature.” [...] “I think she's very logical, very calculating, but also still a real softy on the inside. Though I think that's the part of her that she doesn't really nurture that much until we start to see her going on this journey with Ava [the Warrior Nun] and with the other sisters throughout the two seasons where she can actually start becoming more open and more free and more herself.” [...] “I am not actually sure whether she was originally written to be Asian,” [...] “I suspect so because of the style of martial arts that she does, and I guess that little bit of Asian perfectionism stereotype that was sprinkled in there.” “I think growing up I was very much a know-it-all child. I felt like I had to prove myself all the time to be smarter and be better and be the best in class and do everything perfectly in order for other people to see my value. That I had to bring something useful to the table or just be useful to other people and to make other people proud. And then as I've kind of gotten older, I've realized that, you know, that's not very interesting. You can be a living, breathing, colorful human being and also be all of those good things that you know you can bring from your skill set.” The show itself was not about queerness or race, but it did make striking statements about both topics despite its gentler touch. While Beatrice was both queer and Asian, those aspects informed her character but didn’t define her. At no point was she treated as a simple side character or reduced to a love interest or a stereotype. For actors like Tonteri-Young who are Asian or of mixed race, it is not just their craft they are often recognized for but also the representation they are expected to shoulder whether they want it or not. “It's my pleasure,” [...] “It's a great honor to have played her..."

TLT meta post suggestion: explain the biblical significance of Paul to someone who knows jackshit about Christianity?

Paul is what happens when a clever person with establishment clout has a searing moment of metaphysical transformation that allows them to become a real nuisance...

The very TL;DNR version of Paul in Christianity (Bible!Paul, if you will) is that he was once an observant Jew called Saul who was involved in persecuting the early church. But one day, while enthusiastically doing this, he is struck blind by a huge flash of light and hears the voice of Jesus. From that point on he is known as "Paul", becomes an enthusiastic follower of Jesus, and helps to spread the gospel. Specifically, he is referred to as the 'apostle to the gentiles', taking the teachings of Jesus beyond its early Jewish roots to the wider Mediterranean world.

On a basic level, Necro!Paul being 'Paul' is probably a reference to that blazing moment of transformation - Bible!Paul is both continuity and change: the same passion, but expressed very differently. Well-educated, willing to cause trouble, and energised by something beyond the human norm.

But it's their speech to Ianthe where the Biblical stuff really starts to come through. It's worth noting that letters written by Bible!Paul (or 'written by him') account for nearly half of the books of the Christian New Testament and are hugely foundational in Christian theology.

And Necro!Paul's speech to Ianthe is full of Biblical references:

"I know how hard it is for you to kick against the goad," said the new person. "But there are more worlds than this. Come with us. We are the love that is perfected by death - but even death will be no more; death can also die."

That first line, 'kick against the goad', is a direct reference to Paul's 'Road to Damascus' moment where he hears Jesus:

I saw in the way a light from heaven above the brightness of the sun, shining round about me, and them that were in company with me. And when we were all fallen down on the ground, I heard a voice speaking to me in the Hebrew tongue: Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me? It is hard for thee to kick against the goad. And I said: Who art thou, Lord? And the Lord answered: I am Jesus whom thou persecutest. - Acts 26:13-15

To kick against the goad (or, in the slightly more colourful language of the KJV 'kick against the pricks') is to engage in an excercise in futility. It's a reference to an ox goad, a sharp instrument used to steer oxen in farming, which would hurt the animal if it tried to kick against it instead of following where it was being directed.

It's an acknowledgement that Ianthe is doing something that rubs profoundly up against the metaphysical grain, that her own proud self-direction will only hurt her in the end.

'More worlds than this' is a reference to Hamlet, which Dulcie of course also quotes in TUG. (Hamlet rather seems to haunt the question of the River Beyond, but that's not what we're discussing right now...)

'We are the love that is perfected by death' is, I suspect, meant to reference two different Bible verses. The first is:

Put me as a seal upon thy heart, as a seal upon thy arm, for love is strong as death, jealousy as hard as hell, the lamps thereof are fire and flames. - Song of Solomon 8:6

Despite centuries of the church trying to claim that it's about the spiritual relationship between God and man, the Song of Solomon is now generally accepted to be a sexy poem about sex. So that's an interesting thing for the fusion of Palamedes and Camilla to quote... But perhaps more salient here is what's contrasted to the strength of love and death, which is jealousy and hell. Ianthe is being offered a chance at redemption - which is of course Bible!Paul's whole thing - which she summarily rejects. I'm sure, given NTN ending with Harrow going off to, one assumes, er, harrow hell, that this won't be relevant at all...

The other verse that 'love that is perfected by death' may be referencing is:

In this is the charity of God perfected with us, that we may have confidence in the day of judgment: because as he is, we also are in this world. Fear is not in charity: but perfect charity casteth out fear, because fear hath pain. And he that feareth, is not perfected in charity. Let us therefore love God, because God first hath loved us. If any man say, I love God, and hateth his brother; he is a liar. For he that loveth not his brother, whom he seeth, how can he love God, whom he seeth not? And this commandment we have from God, that he, who loveth God, love also his brother. - 1 John 4:17-21

The quotation in the Douay-Rhiems translation (apparently the preferred translation of lesbian necromancers in space, if Gideon the Ninth is anything to go by) is a little opaque, but 'charity' is an old timey way of translating 'love'. Essentially, this passage says that those who love God and are loved by God do not need to fear the day of judgement, and clarifies a bit about what it means to love God.

There are two things that are important.

The first is that this is from 1 John. There are five Biblical texts associated with St John: the Gospel of John, the Book of Revelation, and three Epistles (letters). Revelation is John's vision of the end of the world - and if you're wondering whether it's relevant that The Locked Tomb features a guy called John who ends the world, yes, it is - but the Epistles were written right at the end of his life. And 1 John has two themes that might be relevant to The Locked Tomb: the first is the question of what it means to love god (spoiler: the answer is not 'dinner and a movie'), and the second is whether your actions matter.

The second thing that might be relevant here is that just before this in 1 John 4, there is a warning about not heeding false prophets. Specifically, it warns about the antichrist. You know, the thing Necro!John says he was repeatedly accused of being? The point is that love - love properly understood - can protect you from the wiles of the antichrist. Probably not a relevant theme as we head off into the 'you have not yet begun to witness the horrors of love' book where people are presumably facing down a pretender god...

The final part of Paul's speech to Ianthe - 'death will be no more' - is also Johannine: this time from Revelation:

And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes: and death shall be no more, nor mourning, nor crying, nor sorrow shall be any more, for the former things are passed away. - Revelation 21:4

This comes from a section where the Biblical John watches as the old world is destroyed and the new Jerusalem descends from Heaven. Death and sorrow are ended, and the righteous will rule with God. The sinful have a less fun time of it, involving fire and brimstone and 'the second death'. If that sounds familiar, it's because Necro!John cribbed that particular bit when making up his shoddy Space Catholicism (TM). (The implications of this really deserves a much longer treatment, so watch this space...)

One of the nice things about Tamsyn Muir's Biblical parallels is they're not generally exact. But it's perhaps relevant to note that amongst Bible!Paul's rather dramatic adventures are quite a few instances of casting demons out of people, starting at least one riot, shipwreck, and an "Incident at Antioch". Also...it's probably not relevant that the writings of St Paul were the turning point in the conversion of St Augustine...specifically a section about how the end of the world is nigh so you'd better get your act together...

All in all, Paul is...a very niche joke about Plato, hopefully not a joke about Dune, and mostly very, very apocalyptic. A new beginning at the end of the world! An offer of redemption to those swimming against the current! A warning to false gods! A sign that the end is nigh! All of which suggests Alecto the Ninth is going to be a wild ride (as if we didn't know that already).

"Bruce’s protective control and Dick’s perfectionist caregiving are core dysfunctions for their characters" oh this is such a beautiful, and perfectly fitting, way of describing them that ive ever seen! and it's really interesting to note that, their dysfunctions are.. how do i say it, 'complement' the other's? giving a 'perfect' looping feedback?

like, bruce's protective control pushes dick's perfectionist self to work even harder--to achieve the impossible and essentially makes him more desperate to take care of bruce, and in return this pushes bruce's protectiveness to another whole new degree which then lead to his need to keep everything under his control become even worse. and that makes it harder for them to break from the cycle (am i making sense? i hope im making sense)

hold my beer, I'm using this as an excuse to write the Bruce & Dick enneagram meta in my head.

"He's so determined to prove he isn't like Master Bruce it scares me. In their own way they are so similar that I thank heaven for the differences." - Alfred Pennyworth Batman 1940 #438

I've mentioned before that I use enneagram typing to characterize Bruce and Dick. like all personality typing, it's unscientific bogus. (this one is sold as a business tool lol.) but i find the types compelling.

first of all, their types

Bruce is an 8, the challenger or protector. an 8's ego is attached to the idea of vengeance—destruction of self or others out of a sense of injustice. if the person has a huge ego, has a deluded perception of the world, it is tied to the idea of vengeance. their "holy idea" is truth, which is basically a core value and potential. their trap is justice, which they think is the right path, but it will actually keep them stuck in their bullshit.

[Dick calls Bruce out on going too far as he's breaking down after Jason's death. Batman 1940 #439]

an 8's deepest fear is being controlled, harmed, or violated. their base desire is to be influential, self sufficient and protect themself. their temptation is to think that they are self sufficient.

like, you see why I like this for Bruce.

Bruce saw his parents being murdered and his reaction to that trauma was to control himself and create a powerful alternate ego that gets vengeance on Gotham's criminals and protects the innocent.

[Bruce appealing to family court to take in Dick. Batman 1940 #439]

at his worst, Bruce is a control freak who doesn't let anyone help him and has a warped sense of justice. so much emotional armor.

[Bruce possessed by Antithesis and lashing out at Dick, which Dick correctly identifies as a fear reaction. Teen Titans Year One #3]

at his best, Bruce is a strong leader, is willing to do what is right even at personal cost, wants to protect and help others fairly, and strives to create a better world.

[Bruce creating a victims advocacy program. Batman 1940 #217]

tl;dr Bruce is driven by fear of loss and compensates by controlling his world and protecting himself and others.

Dick is a 2, the helper or giver. 2's ego fixation is flattery, pleasing and giving to others in order to be liked. their "holy idea" is freedom/will; there's several interpretations of this but for Dick I see it as wanting others and himself to be free of metaphorical shackles and to fly. the 2's trap is also freedom: from having personal needs and needing others.

2's fear is being unlovable and their base desire is to be loved unconditionally. their temptation is to deny their own needs and be manipulative.

[Dick hiding his sadness as he leaves Wayne Manor for college. Batman 1940 #217]

[Hugo Strange psychoanalyzing Dick's relationship to Bruce. Batman Gotham Knights #11]

Dick is constantly pushing himself to the limit to be the perfect hero and mentor, and wants to help others but doesn't accept help himself. he maintains an image of being the bringer of light. I think being raised as a performer made him associate doing well and making people happy with love and family; after losing his parents he searched for that unconditional love from Bruce, being a hero, and romantic partners.

at his worst, he's prideful, and both ignores his own needs and sacrifices himself for others in order to get those needs met.

[Dick killing himself to save people in nuclear-bombed Bludhaven and feeling good about it. Nightwing 996 #116]

at his best, he is compassionate, helpful, parental, and warms the hearts of others.

tl;dr Dick is driven by fear of not having love and family, and compensates by caring for others and being perfect.

[Dick having a nightmare during a month's long mental breakdown. Nightwing 1996 #117]

you are correct: Bruce and Dick's personalities complement each other at their best and worse.

at their worst, Bruce is emotionally withholding and pushes Dick away. this is out of need to protect himself; any emotional intimacy or love is a threat because what if they die? Dick interprets this as not being good enough for Bruce's praise or a place by his side, and tries to be better. no matter how far gone Bruce is, Dick has to be the exceptional one who stays and loves him. the fact that Dick always comes back to him and gets under his skin makes Bruce lash out or become more controlling. so the cycle continues!

"That's what eats away at you at night—not just that you're forever in his shadow—but that you love him. That you're the loyal son who has never been allowed to truly help—never permitted to save him from himself." - Hugo Strange, Batman Gotham Knights #10

at their best, Bruce uses his own traumatic experience and leadership to better Dick's life. Dick is a ray of light for him. their fears are eased in relation to each other, they both help others and improve their world.

[Alfred remembers Dick early in his Robin career. Batman 1940 #438]

I think they have a lot to learn from each other. but they can also be deeply stuck in this dysfunctional cycle because they can both hold onto their negative delusions.

"I love Bruce. He's my family. But I couldn't bring him out of the past... I was sacrificing my own future. I don't want that for you... Trust me, Tim. At some point... you have to set yourself free." - Dick, Batman Urban Legends #10. demonstrates a healthy Dick's relation to an unhealthy Bruce.

ajkfljskj I saw you were taking requests now and I lowkey just- 👀 I'm having sexy Bayverse Turtles intrusive thoughts. Imma share a Leo one. Ever imagined Bay!Leo sharing his hobbies with reader after she earned his trust and teaching her Japanese calligraphy? Him watching her skin glow in the candlelight, dreaming to use her naked body as a canvas for a Japanese love poem written in kanji? Sexual tension, mixed with slow, agonizing brushstrokes? Cuz I have 😏 -💙

so i got this and immediately i was like 'omg. this would work So Well as a deleted scene of sorts for tea-verse' so that's what it ended up as. kind of sexual tension but it edges more on pining. also, i'm burning now, thank you everyone for playing, we had a great run here on desceros dot com leonardo x reader; T, GN!reader, 1.8k; leo pining like a TREE. officially takes place after the leaf scene in this fic if you want context for some of the subtler touches but tl;dr reader always makes leo his tea. (the fic itself has a female reader but this snippet is GN)

He wonders if you know. 

You’ve caught him staring, before. It makes his shell feel tight, his skin too-hot. Even with mating season coming up, it’s too soon for him to be reacting like this; the burning ache that comes just from the bell of your voice, the alluring sway of your footsteps as you come to his side. And yet he does. Because it’s you. Just because it’s you.

“Okay, I’m excited for this,” you tell him, teeth biting into a smile as you tuck as close as you can without touching. He knows you do it for him, that you stay away because of his wishes, but it’s an agony all the same. The sweet smell of your soap haunts him, even under the burn of the incense that ghosts the room with smoke.

“Yeah?” he asks, pleased when he sees the happy, easy glow of your face. 

“Are you kidding? It’s so pretty,” you say. “Plus I like how the ink smells. It smells really nice with the tea when I bring it in.” 

Pretty, he echoes, trailing his eyes down to your throat, your shoulders, your hands. The way all your angles and curves catch the candlelight and dance in a softness that makes his palms ache with emptiness.

…He wonders if you know how soft you make him.

“Okay. Tell me the names for everything,” you tell him, studying the tools laid out before him, a gentle eagerness brightening your eyes. He smiles, turning his head and gesturing at everything to share its proper name in Japanese, then English. Grinding the ink, he explains the process, looking to you and your fascinated expression and trying to remember to breathe.

“What do you want me to write?” he asks once he’s ready, causing you to look at him and smile.

“What do you want to write?” you ask. 

Reaching out, he picks up the brush between his fingers. He studies the paper before him, blank and infinite, but his mind is somewhere else. 

…It had rained, a few days ago. You’d come into the lair drenched, laughing as Splinter had sent him off to bring you a towel. He’d returned in time to see you lift your shirt, squeezing it out over the storm drain, miles and miles and miles of skin stretching before his eyes. The curve of your spine as you turned to speak to his father, the arch of your hips as you leaned to twist the fabric, the pull of skin over your flesh. Breathless, motionless, frozen, he’d faltered in the doorway, ensorcelled by the image forever, marked, seared into his mind.

It’s that sight that comes to his mind, now, as he closes his eyes. 

He could do it, he thinks. He could ask you to turn, to pull your shirt over your head. It’s so easy to imagine the way your shoulder blades would curve, the dip of your spine, the way you’d shiver when he pressed the brush to your skin. It would tickle, at first, until you got used to it; then you’d sigh, still, and let him spread his soul onto your canvas.

Oh, all the things he wants to write there, where it would sink into your flesh like a brand. All the little ghosts of you that haunt him, memorialized with love in charcoal: the way your teeth catch your lip, the flash of skin at your hemline when you stretch your arms above your head, the wet press of your tongue to your lips when they're dry, the way your eyes flutter shut when you have your first sip of tea, the hum of pleasure you give when it tastes good. 

…He’d make you feel so good.

“…Leo?”

Leo opens his eyes, feeling the hunger in them, letting them get as far as your mouth before he turns them back to the paper before him. A pointless daydream, a torment of his own making. 

“…Sorry. I was just thinking,” he says, and it’s not a lie, not entirely, but also nothing but. There is nothing just about the way that you consume him.

It’s easy, then, to think of what to write. In long, elegant nine strokes that pull from his shoulder, he glides the brush over the paper. Each inch of ink carries a memory of you, your hands as you pass him a teacup, your care in checking the flavor, your endless drive to perfect the art just for him. 

“…Tea,” you recognize, proving your familiarity with the subject. He smiles; of course you’d recognize it, what with how often the two of you share.

“Tea,” he echoes, waiting until the ink is dry enough to handle before he takes the paper and hands it to you. “Here. For you.” 

“Wh—Really?” you ask, eyes wide. 

“Of course. It’s about time I gave some tea to you, after all,” he says with a smile that makes you laugh. He tucks the sound into his heart, next to all of the others. 

“It’s beautiful, Leo,” you compliment, holding it before you. Your eyes take in every stroke, awe open and genuine, before they meet his own and your smile goes warm like the sun. “Thank you. I’m going to hang it somewhere nice in my apartment.” 

And oh, but you are the sun, he thinks, heart pounding as he watches your fingers trail down the edge of the paper. Reaching out with warmth, lighting everything you touch, smiling as everyone around you basks in your radiant glow. What is life without you, he wonders, chest aching and so full and so empty all at once it hurts. Madness. 

…He wonders if you know. 

major spoilers under the cut!

Tl;dr: Ingrid and Z OTP

I knew from the moment Ingrid quit Parsons (and Murphy didn't leave with her) that she and Murphy couldn't work out — the entire time that she's been doing dodgy shit, i.e. violating her own moral code (remember that letter to Sears?), Murphy was telling her she was doing the right thing. To make partner. Their shared, singular goal, only it turns out Murphy is willing to go even further to achieve it — he betrays her, and while Ingrid before had the luxury of telling herself she didn't have a choice, he knows he does.

I know exactly when he sold Ingrid out: after they heard about Hunter. He had no reason to before, he and Ingrid were the dream team next to Dan (ugh), but then that fell apart. And he told her, he fucking told her: he's not going back.

He sure kept that gloating well under his hat.

Anyway, back to my point: Murphy represents Ingrid's flaws, he was the perfect foil to her ruthless pursuit of partner. He stood right at the beginning of it, with their wedding fling, and now six years later he's here for the end, whispering into her ear all the while that she's doing nothing wrong even as she's screwing people over and hates herself for doing it. What she told him about how she knew she wanted to be a lawyer? The death knell for their relationship. You don't go into Mergers & Acquisitions to right wrongs, or for justice. You go because that's where the money is.

So when Murphy wasn't upset about the dawn raid, when he told her he loved her instead? He saw that as absolution for what he'd done to her, because it marked Ingrid out as the same kind of person even as she's now on Green Tech's side: acting behind her partner's back to pull a stunt. She's on the side of the good guys now, sure, but that only matters to us, the audience. Not to Murphy. He only sees her ambition. And while he had her, he kept her busy with one hand so she wouldn't see what the other hand was doing.

And the entire time, there were subtle vibes between Ingrid and Z, but it wasn't just for the lols. He is someone who acts in alignment with his moral code, and who's actually honest about who he is and what he wants; the polar opposite of Murphy. Ingrid and Z back each other up without expecting anything in return in the finale. And here's the thing I love about Z: he represents optimism, not idealism as opposed to reality; and what Murphy calls realism, what Marty fucking Adler calls "thinking like a partner," that's just stone-cold ruthlessness and cruelty.

So hell, what I want for season 2 is for Ingrid to kick Murphy to the curb — though of course they're still going to have to work together, and that will turn out wonderfully acrimonious — and for Ingrid and Z to make good on those vibes and oh so achingly slowly fall in love. Nick moved too fast, Murphy made his move immediately when Nick was out of the picture, and Z is going to be the one who understands taking his time — and giving Ingrid time. Because, shit, this is gonna hurt.

In conclusion: Team Ingrid x Z, all the way.

Nobody even says TL;DR anymore but that one post from forever ago that said TL;DR stands for "The Lord; Da Rings" is seared into my brain permanently for some reason

what are your favorite canon ice/mav moments? :)

Ah, but there are a lot of those, anon! :D Mav and Ice are great at bringing the tension even with the quickest of exchanges, so practically every moment makes it onto the list.

(I'm about to get on a plane without my laptop, so I'll say right now that I'm probably going to remake this post with gifs in a few days. You can still reblog in the meanwhile!)

From Mav and Ice's very "that is a dominant and that is a masochist" enemies-to-lovers vibe in 1986 to their former-enemies-now-only-lovers married for years vibe in 2022, it's all golden. They have a whole arc, and I'll show you what I mean:

ACT I. SEARING SEXUAL TENSION

Searing sexual tension at their first meeting at the club ("No, you mean notorious. I'll see you later." "You can count on it.")

The Snap, obviously, with Ice telling Mav to never leave his wingman (a decent case for Mav being a few years younger, scrappier, than Ice)

Searing sexual tension in the air. ("Just a walk in the park, Kazansky." The looks on their faces are competitive, but a lot more than that. They're respectful rivals, both the kind of people who are turned on by a challenge, and it shows.)

ACT II. HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO HANDLE THE WEIGHT OF THIS

Ice trying his best to reassure Mav after Goose's death, to reach out and offer him the tiniest bit of comfort when everyone else around him (including Viper, a straight-up parent figure) is refusing to handle grief. Ice doesn't do great at this - he's also young and also, clearly, doesn't know how - but he's clearly genuinely trying, and he notably does a lot better than Charlie in the very next scene.

Mav coming back to graduate, shaking Ice's hand to congratulate him, looking genuinely happy for him and supportive of him - there's zero grudge or competitiveness here, which I really think points to the important core tenet of Mav Being A Good Boy.

ACT III. WINGMAN OUT OF TEN

Mav refusing to leave Ice, and relentlessly pursuing and shooting down the MiG that's chasing Ice.

The Wingman Hug we all know and love. The one that spawned fic upon fic of their wedding vows (guilty, lol). The one that persists all the way into the angsty, angsty present day.

And then, speaking of the present day, there's ACT IV. FORMER ENEMIES, LONGTIME LOVERS

Sugar Daddy Guardian Angel: We hear that ~mysterious forces~ are responsible for keeping Mav up in the air, where he belongs. We then pretty much immediately learn that said mysterious force is Iceman. Mav is not surprised about this. In fact, it's apparently such common knowledge that literally no one in the narrative is surprised about this. Iceman kicks off the whole plot of TGM. Those kids came home safe because Ice fought for Mav to train them.

Pictures Hanging In The Hallway (And The Fragment Of A Song): Who put those pictures in the hall at TOPGUN? Mav hasn't been back there in decades. Cyclone sure as hell isn't going to come up with that shit. I bet it was Ice who did it - and Mav's little smile at Ice's picture is the fucking cutest thing I've ever seen.

Everyone Kind Of Acknowledging They're All But Married (Sugar Daddy Guardian Angel 2.0): We hear of their bond from Cyclone and Penny; we see it in their texts. We see it at Ice's house.

There's That Picture Again, This Time In Ice's Study: Mav finally lets himself break in front of Ice, the literal only person he ever cries in front of. Ice is the only one who can truly break his defences down, get vulnerable truths out of him he would never discuss with anyone else. And Mav clearly doesn't want to bother Ice, with how sick he is, but all Ice ever had to do was ask, and Mav will give him whatever truth he wants.

Mav Giving Ice His Wings: Mav officiates Ice's funeral, and straight up gives him a piece of himself to keep for eternity. If that isn't love, I don't know what is.

tl;dr I love these idiots and their love for each other right to the very fucking end.

Iridescence (WIP)

I've been getting my ramblings together and as thus far. I have a solid idea of where to take my ideas.

TL;DR

Currently outlining a Berserk retelling spanning from the Golden Age Arc to Fantasia, focused on an AU where Griffith forcefully turns Guts into an immortal (Apostle).

For a frame of reference, I read the first chapter of the golden age arc, and this quote just summarizes perfectly what I want out of a Griffith/Guts post-Eclipse retelling. When I say retelling, I really mean a twisted, dark romance. They're fucked up courtship, where with every exchange, they mend a little piece of themselves they never dared bring up to anyone else.

Exploring Griffith’s psyche fascinates him, I’m debating where exactly in the Golden Age arc to start because I want to drill in the dread of loneliness into him. It’s gonna be subtle at first, but nonetheless there. I think it’d add on to the angst sandwich I want to make with this fic. Not just that but making Guts and Griffith blossoming lovers, not outwardly either to themselves or others but a blurred mix of the two.

I fleshed out my idea a little more clearly. Some plot points are very much lost in the word soup that is this fic lol.

Main Idea:

The turning point, where Griffith will turn Guts into an immortal, will be after they have fought.

Guts' primary motivation— his dream, and life’s purpose is Casca. He does not lose her, but he's trying to be a man worthy of Casca’s devotion. He needs to control his urge to chase Griffith, to not give into temptation but his inner demon coaxes his psyche into passivity— making him fall prey into thoughts, nightmare. Estranged lucid fantasies of his former commander.

It whispers of possibilities that ring bloody and sour to his sanity, but with the rusted aches comes an emotion rivaling even the sweetest kiss from his lover. And that terrifies him beyond all reason.

Guts dies while fighting Griffith, an entity he should know better than to challenge.

He knows defeat but the bitterness of an impending death comfortably sits on his tongue, soothing a pavlovian response in him to tear and thrash and glaze, endlessly enamored as a quick, seamless slash breaks his skin, muscles and bone.

The horrid, white-sear leaves him breathless— without the strength nor mind to scream or is it the sight before him. One of Griffith, his face ghosted with a smile he’s only known in far-off memories of a time long before his maturity. He’d be a fool to be scared of death but he’d be a liar to say it doesn’t cause him fright, losing Casca and the potential of being with her scares him,

But for now, for this singular moment of agony, he smiles. His mind wonders, fruitful in its fantasies and nightmares and for once, aimless in his struggle, he finds peace— as if being nurtured by the embrace of a mother, he’s satisfied. Seeing a glimpse, a crack in Griffith’s armor, lulls him.

While clashing, the past's excitement rekindles inside Griffith. His heart beats at his ears, singing of a long tattered wound. A scar left known in a far-off time beyond his conscious psyche, a deep seeded loneliness remembrance only pray tell him. The very one that clung to the man stumbling before him.

Then and there in the brief moment of their swords play, Griffith's blood runs cold as he watches the man he once grew to love and hate smile at him. His composure collapses with Guts’ dying breath, and, for the first time, in his immortal life, he processes the depths of his solitude.

In that moment, Griffith ruins his former friend once more by giving him the very thing he swore to take, his life.

for the ask game - 5, 11, 18? (the amount of willpower it took not to send you every single number. I deserve an award. great ask game!)

I would give you an award if I had one, Milk. But please know you can send as many asks/numbers as you like and I will do my level best to answer all of them!! (Also thank you very much! I've never tried it before, but this is fun!)

5. Great Fluff Piece Hmm. I think for this one I have to put "After the Whisperer" by @heyitsthatonesmolgay. There's a tiny bit of pain in the begininng, but the whole thing's so sweet, and it has some of the fluffiest Constance-SQ cousin stuff that I've seen. It's exactly how I picture their relationship in my head, and the whole thing is just so... Texture in my brain. It's like running my hands over my favourite blanket.

11. Memorable Ending "Some Choice Words"!! By the talented @mysteriouseggsbenedict!! I was just rereading it this morning :) This was ALSO one of the very first MBS fics I read (If I remember right I was lurking on Wynn's blog just devouring everything I came across before I got brave enough to start posting), but it has stayed in my head for ages. I must have reread it upwards of ten or fifteen times, and many points are seared into my brain, but I especially remember the ending.

18. Fic(s) that keep you up at night (Either reading or thinking about) Oh, I have just the answer for this. This is actually the main fic I was thinking of when I wrote this question. I'm talking about "The Psychic File" by the ever illustrious @acollectionofcuriousreblogs!!!! I danced around this fic for a while because the tags made me nervous, but finally I just sat down and read it, which led to me finishing the whole thing in more or less one sitting and staying up until well after one in the morning the night before a big family roadtrip. Not my wisest decision, but oh my stars was it worth it. I adore this fic, even though it still makes me a bit nervous. It's not exactly TLS's style, but it's really close. Maybe also more Lemony Snicket? Either way it's just fantastic and I've been trying to sum up my thoughts into a coherent comment for, like, a month and a half. Which is part of why I rambled so severely about this one, but, please, trust me, go read it

I recently received a Sears 135 in a package deal with a Sears TLS camera. I used it for the first time today. I've been very happy with all my Sears cameras and lenses. High quality. Sony a7rii, Sears 135 3.5 SN11447 (mid 1960s?)

[TEASER] Dust and Gold (Working Title)

Just a small set of teaser WIPs from a fic I've been working on - hopefully I can get the first two chapters up soon...

tl;dr: Yu-Gi-Oh DM, but make it gayer an Utena AU.

Once upon a time, a long time ago, there lived a little prince. He was sad and lonely, for he had no friends with which to share his life.

One day the prince was given a special gift: a golden box. Inside were gold pieces of a mysterious sort of puzzle he had never seen before. It was rumored that whosoever solves the riddle of the puzzle shall be granted their deepest wish.

The prince set to work alone, day and night, twisting and turning the pieces in his hands. Though his loneliness grew, the thrill of being one step closer to his deepest wish kept his spirits lifted.

Days turned to months, which turned to seasons. Many years had passed. Finally, one day, the prince fixed the last piece into the puzzle, completing it at last.

“What is your deepest wish?” a voice from the puzzle asked.

Heavy from his lonely task, he wept, and whispered softly his deepest wish: “I wish for true friends.”

Upon uttering his wish there arrived a traveling king, dressed in the finest gold like spun sunlight. He possessed a confident air and a compassionate smile.

The king embraced the young prince in perfumes of myrrh and frankincense, and gently wiped the tears from his eyes.

“Young one,” the king spoke, “whose spirit shines bright within the shadows: never lose that kindness and nobility, even when you grow up. Then, your wish shall be granted.”

The king produced a chain and bestowed the completed puzzle around the prince’s neck like a badge of honor. “I entrust the miraculous mystery of the puzzle to you as a symbol of our promise. Let it one day lead you to me.”

Perhaps this promise had been an heirloom, or yet another puzzle.

Emboldened by this promise, the young prince gave up everything – his inheritance, his name, and his crown – to seek out a kingdom of friendship all his own.

But, was that really the wisest idea?

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

Their blades met with a heavy thud, sending both duelists backwards. There seemed to be an electric shockwave that accompanied it, a white lightning that sent a painful vibration into Yuugi’s arm. He quickly regained his footing, but Kaiba was on him in an instant with brute force slashing downward at him, laughing as he went.

Yuugi successfully managed to parry the blows, despite the involuntary spasming of his arm, though he was unsure how much longer he could keep on the defensive.

Kaiba pushed into his last parry, forcing Yuugi into a kneel. That was when he saw it: a glitter of silver-white surging behind Kaiba, the consummate rows of bone white teeth, the piercing ferocity of icy blue eyes –

Yuugi paled. This was impossible… his grandfather’s Blue Eyes White Dragon? But how?

“You’re good, I’ll give you that,” Kaiba sneered, as Yuugi rose back up to both feet. He held the wooden sword parallel to Kaiba’s shining blade, pressing back only to keep their blades locked together.

Kaiba pressed in once again, and Yuugi could feel his arms burning from the effort.

“You think yourself a king, here to defend your honor and bring your judgment upon me?” He laughed and, with one last push, swung his blade into Yuugi’s sword.

A deafening sound of thunder crunched directly in his ear, searing hot lighting coursed through every muscle, and Yuugi was thrown to the ground.

He was stunned by the attack, but managed enough control past the spasms to reach up and protect his rose. Yuugi lifted his blade up to meet Kaiba in another challenge, only to find that it had been cut clean in half, charred by a lightning strike.

His eyes darted from the smoldering hilt up to where Kaiba stood over him; the Blue Eyes White Dragon towered over them both, poised and ready to breathe more white heat.

Yuugi desperately tried to still the tremors in his arms and legs as fear iced his veins.

“Wait a minute… that trick sword, and my grandpa’s Blue Eyes… they’re real?”

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

It was a clear, starry evening, and the hallowed ground of the dueling forest lay silent.

Emerging from a copse of trees along a path strode a man, imposing in build and bearing. His sun-loved skin contrasted sharply against his white hair, like spun moonlight. He came dressed in multiple layers of thick, patterned fabrics and robes of the deepest reddest hues.

He moved toward the center of the dueling grounds, gazing upward at the lustrous wonder of the pyramid slowly revolving in the sky. The light of it danced off the gold of his jewelry.

As if he had willed it, the pyramid began to spiral downward to meet him – down, down, down, spinning faster and faster, threatening to impale and crush him.

When the impact came, there was nothing.

The next moment, he was inside its dark and musty halls, embraced with its sweet spices and incense.

Caged in bars of moonlight sat the silhouette of a young man atop a throne, his head pressed against one raised knee, holding himself as if in slumber. The white linens of his robes pooled around him like dry smoke: a stark ghost against the shadow of a dark indigo cloak draped over his shoulders.

In the pale light of his prison, his golden accessories glinted. The most prominent of these ornaments was a winged crown wreathed in a tangle of thick, dark hair shocked with ribbons of blonde. Sheathed at his side was an equally luminous gilded sword.

The Man in Red approached the throne. A cruel chuckle warmed in his chest as he observed the king in repose.

“You still haven’t awakened?” he asked derisively. “Does the egg’s shell remain unbroken?”

fallen london update

the wiki guide for whitsun is terrible. i refuse on basic principle to edit a wiki. tl;dr i made my own egg guide.

saw a thing

railroad moustly mouseyed tou moulin

finished up amphibian studies

oh this has been sitting around for a while too, visual list of faction relationships. Something I might do this week is a proper line diagram not in sheets that also incorporates the primary stat and quirk where there is one. idk. fingerkings not listed because they are vv isolated from everything else, proxy through shroud, and broke the diagram when i added them.

research note: I think? we need to go to khagania and grind searing enigmae, must confirm. also! check revenue sources, we are low.

what kind of songs do you think Lestat wrote as a rockstar?

open for curious anons!

Bless you, rockstar Lestat is so near and dear to my heart. I actually have a whole playlist dedicated to this, if you want a TL;DR version of this absolutely self-indulgent answer.

This is my second formal apology to the Queen of the Damned soundtrack, but in terms of Lestat being a rockstar of the '80s I always imagine he was out there screaming songs like Always by Bon Jovi, or Another Day by Dream Theatre, or Poison by Alice Cooper, or November Rain by Guns N' Roses (conceptually, I know some of these are actually from the '90s). I know AR wrote all those vampiric lyrics for Lestat in QotD, but the content of these songs I think is also pretty apt -- a lot of angsting, a lot of failed love, you're telling me Lestat never wrote an Always-esque power ballad about Monsieur de Pointe du Lac? (Or even, and this is getting a bit off base perhaps and a bit too self-indulgent, but something like Lover You Should've Come Over by Jeff Buckley if he's feeling a bit melancholy about it all, or trying to win his man over a little).

Overall, think DRAMA, those SEARING vocals and that BIG sound, especially when they introduce more classical elements. This is a man who I believe would still want to play the harpsichord from time to time in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, after all. Speaking of which, I cannot listen to Yngwie Malmsteen without thinking of Lestat -- not only for the scintillating, intense playing, but also because he wrote classical pieces integrating the electric guitar. Hello? Hello? For something a bit more relaxed, Tender Surrender by Steve Vai also, to me, savours of Lestat on that stage.

Basically, I think Lestat should've been on that stage screaming his heart out and putting his vampiric ferocity, virtuosity, and speed to good damn use on his guitar, and on any instrument he could get his hands on.

‼️Sorry this is just a vent scroll past if you want!! ‼️tw transphobia, tw JK Rowling.

So a non-binary family member of mine was considering buying Hogwarts Legacy.

I asked them why they would do that. Their automatic response is very practised, and they actually as though I'm being very annoying, "we've had this conversation. Jk Rowling is a witch with a capital B, but what she needs is for people like us to have a conversation with her and put her in her place."

Quote fucking unquote.

Soooo many issues with this wording. (using witch and bitch as a slur, refusing to call her what she is, a terf.) As well as the fact is that you can't reason with these people. She's made her position clear. And buying the game isn't going to make her fucking listen?? All they'd be doing is subjecting themself to a shitty game...

And the conversation we had? Doesn't exist. They're referring to the other time they said this exact thing without listening to what I was saying. And this time they ignored me too.

I know they're just stupid and naive but they're older than me?? By several decades???

Anyway this "conversation" was followed by them misgendering me (and my Nana but I forgive her. She remembers sometimes.)

I'm pretty pissed off and considered walking home (it would take me about 9 hours, in searing heat, and I bet they'd love it if I died so I won't do that...)

Now that I think abt it they probably misgendered me BC I'm wearing a skirt today. Which is somehow worse.

Not to mention. The game is obviously going to be full of transphobia and antisemitism, and whatever else JK fouling is into. I haven't played the game obviously so idk what it's like... Idk I'm just complaining at this point :P

TL;DR:

The last couple of years I’ve started giving my siblings books for Christmas. Because books are important and, as my sophomore English teacher seared into our brains years ago “any thing that gets you to read is good reading. Even if it’s just a magazine or a comic or a book that other teachers claim is “below your reading level”. Yes it’s good to read and analyse challenging things but it’s also not a crime to read things that you just want to read, even if past teachers told you it somehow didn’t count. Because you’re still reading.”

And I went back and forth about it and about feeling like maybe I was forcing something onto my younger brother just because I like it so much. But I went ahead and got him the first Percy Jackson book. Originally I wanted to find him the paperback box set like I have, but with the Disney series coming out it’s regained popularity so I was only able to find the first. Which is possibly for the best, if he doesn’t like it he has just one book and not five. If he does like it, I can get him the rest of the books later on.

And despite being worried that maybe I only wanted him to like it because I like Percy Jackson so much it also comes down to more than that. For all the imperfections of the series and it’s early rep the biggest thing is Percy is neurodivergent. He’s dyslexic and ADHD and struggles in school. And the book makes it no secret that he struggles in school. It’s not a terrible horrible comment on his character, it’s just a fact.

Percy is 12, and reading is hard, and school sucks. And he’s trying so much and his mom knows he’s trying so much and it’s not his fault.

And I think, especially in my parents’ house, that’s a message my brother needs to hear. That just because he has ADHD and dyslexia and reading is hard and school is hard and he’s not getting the support he needs from where he needs it, it’s not his fault. And kids with those same struggles can still be important and successful and be heroes.

TL;DR: I guess my whole point is that diversity matters and so does how that diversity is presented and I think on one level we know that but also sometimes we forget that until it’s us, or someone close to us that’s finally reflected, and positively reflected, in media.

And also, don’t be mean about kids who’d rather read comics or sports magazines than Lord of The Flies or whatever “true literature” you think they have to read. Because all reading is still reading and that’s what matters.

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For the avoidance of doubt, this text shouldn't be an incitement to purchase cryptos, purchase shares, and even to promote members of the family within the hope of shopping for cryptos or shares.Please observe that each one copyright is reserved to Curious Cryptos Ltd.Ask politely to share and replica often, and your want shall be granted.New subscribers to this missive or our web site are all the time most welcome.www.curiouscryptos.comhttps://medium.com/@mark_curiouscryptos [ad_2]