#They are all Outcasts/Monsters and quite weird in their own ways | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

umbrace-rambles · 4 months

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One Piece and Being Different

I could talk long and wide about all the things I love about One Piece, from the worldbuilding to the character writing to the political/darker topics it touches, anything. But one of the main reasons I personally love it so much and I don't believe has been talked about as much as it should, is how much it celebrates otherness. This is very much an overarching theme in the series because pirates by themselves directly go against society's standards, but this is focused more on a character point.

Objectively speaking, most OP characters are freaks and weirdos and strange and off putting, and it's good! Luffy specially, and he is the MAIN character, celebrates and embodies this weirdness to the extreme, and it's incredible how he manages to push this idea to other people around him too. It happens time and time again that he will meet someone and, the more different they are, the more he instantly wants them to join his crew. He is so incredibly driven by the wonder of discovering things different to him that he only feels happy about their existence, he wants to know and have fun with and love them because they're different!

And it has been acknowledged, the general effect Luffy has on people, how he manages to pull them to him like moth to a flame and recruit them to his side without even trying. It’s such incredible power, but it's also incredible how everybody around him, and especially his crew, always strive to become better for him, and most of the time becoming better, in OP, implies stop being normal. Being human, being acceptable by society's standards.

Like damn, the whole character plot of Luffy's fight against Katakuri was Katakuri coming to realize that he doesn't have to put up a front for other people, that he can keep going being himself, without hiding his monstrous features. That is when Katakuri stops fighting for his family and starts fighting because he wants to. And even after Luffy wins that fight he is respectful of Katakuri's wishes and covers his mouth with his hat.

Most of the Strawhat crew are really adopted strays, lost people and old enemies. They were othered, by people or circumstance, and Luffy gave them a home and a purpose. And in their increasing devotion to his cause, and through his constant love towards them, they have learned to stop being afraid of being different. Luffy will always accept them.

Franky had to quite literally rebuild himself into a living weapon, he chose to do that so his Battle Frankies couldn't be used against his will ever again, but despite being a cyborg he still looked mostly human. His pre-time skip design often shows how he pulls off his skin gloves to punch with his real metal hands. He was a criminal and shunned by his city and he was okay with that, but he still chose to blend in. After he joins Luffy he fully embraces himself and becomes quite extravagant in his own design, he is proud to show off his body modifications, he has fun with it, he accepts his cards and decides to use them at their full extent for Luffy. His metal parts in full display, painted with bright colors. Flame-shaped fists, changing his hairstyle at the push of a button, that is not someone trying to blend in anymore.

Chopper is a character whose biggest fear has always been being an outcast. He was bullied out of his herd for not being reindeer enough, he was hunted down by humans for not being human enough. Eventually, however, he learns that in order to be able to keep going, to defend his newfound family, he will have to become a monster for them, and he is happy to, because he would do anything for them. He knows that they will never think less of him for being a monster, for being different. These are some of the most extreme examples but every single character in the crew reflects this theme in some way.

We have people with extremely bizarre powers, shapeshifters, furries, witches, made up creatures, zombies, talking animals, talking food, living skeletons, a whole kingdom of queers, sea monsters, dragons, human experiments and so much more. In a series that mixes so many genres, so many themes, so many types of characters, such outrageous and unconventional character designs could have been used for mockery, or simply used as villainous traits as so many other stories do. And they are certainly sometimes cause of mockery, but it's rarely ever malign. In OP this extreme otherness is often a source of awe, a positive trait, something to be admired. It certainly is for Luffy.

Luffy is a main character that exclusively judges people by their true selves, beyond what they may be saying or doing, with his very keen emotional intelligence. In the world of One Piece, where the maximum power is held by the World Goverment, an organization that actively shuns everything different and is willing to sacrifice anything for the continuity of censorship, power and control, that turns a blind eye towards unaffiliated countries, the slave trade, and the underworld, that is willing to create agreements with some of the most feared pirates and allow them to continue to exercise fear in exchange for their assistance as brute force, Luffy and his recurring thread of freedom and acceptance is beautifully fitting.

#This got away from me #Sorry if something doesn't make sense I literally wrote this in my phone's notes app at 2am in a fit of obsession #but just got around to edit it lol #this rly turned out to be a love letter to Luffy huh #main character of all time #one piece #this is LONG i apologize. it's mostly the pictures lol #one piece meta #one piece text posts #monkey d. luffy #franky one piece #tony tony chopper #one piece chopper #charlotte katakuri #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #world government #op_meta

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bisexualcacti · 2 years

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Summary: your life in Hawkins has been pretty normal so far, but things get a little complicated when one of your friends, Chrissy Cunningham, is found dead (if by little you mean literally entering another dimension to save the town from a murderous monster with freaky powers)

Pairings: Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader, Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2540

A/N: Hey!!! This is my first time writing a fic and also, English is not my first language, so apologies for any sort of grammatical mistakes or if anything sounds weird. I finished s4 and had the urge to write something for these two dorks so I hope you guys like it. The fic will probably go through the span of the season so the last chapters will probably come out by the time s4 is over. Happy pride month!!!

Edit: if someone would like to be added to a taglist for the next part, dm me ;)

PART 1 - THE LAND OF MAKE BELIEVE

It’s funny when you think about how a group of people can come together just to get the worst out of everyone. Steve Harrington, Tommy H., Carol Perkins, Nancy Wheeler, and you. “Friends” you’d call yourselves. As if.

Out of the bunch, you only ever really knew Nancy and Steve, mostly since you never felt like they belonged there with you, and you meant that in the most flattering way. Tommy H. was an asshole, simple as that, and Carol was basically a trash can with a mouth, just full of garbage. Steve was more of a special case. You didn’t like him, but you knew that wasn’t really his fault. It’s just that looking at him felt like looking at you, and every time you saw him you saw the same fucking image that haunted you daily when you’d wake up and look at yourself in the mirror. A loser who’s so fucking scared of being cast out that she’d rather be a miserable idiot with no opinions or thoughts of her own than to be herself.

Most likely ‘cause who you were scared the shit out of you.

Lastly, there was Nancy. Sweet, smart, good ol’ Nancy Wheeler. She wasn’t like you. You could tell from a mile away that she had a soul, unlike the bunch of you. Maybe that’s why you treated her the shittiest, hoping that at some point she’d have enough of your vicious digs against her and would tell you all to go fuck yourselves. Turns out, you didn’t even need to try that hard. The moment she left Steve for Jonathan everything started to crumble. It was soon after that that Steve got tired of Tommy’s shitty attitude and sent you all packing too, which you admit made you a bit jealous, but also happy for him if you were being quite honest.

Your happiness didn’t last though, since as soon as he left came Billy. He would flirt with you relentlessly, but you would shut it down every time. It didn’t discourage him, though. Quite the opposite if you were being honest, as it just made him try harder. Only after the mall fire did he finally stop. Since he was, y’know, dead. That year, Tommy and Carol graduated and that marked the definitive end to your little gang, but you wouldn’t let yourself be a nobody after all the hard work you put in to fit.

So, you made new friends, joined the Hawkins High cheerleading squad and started to hang out with the basketball team. Chrissy Cunningham became your new bestie, and you were once again at the top of Hawkins High food chain, officially untouchable.

None of them compared to her though.

Not thinking about her was hard. Being honest with yourself, there hasn’t been a day you haven’t thought about her since you both went separate ways. Robin had that effect on people. It was especially hard now, though, since you saw her every single fucking time the team had a game. Her and that stupid little red head she kept smiling to.

The both of you used to be thick as thieves once, in middle school, when you were still a huge fucking nerd and Robin was the outcast that completed your little duo. But then, by the end of middle school, you started to feel... different. Your feelings towards Robin started to change in ways that shouldn’t be possible, ways that weren’t natural. Girls didn’t feel this way about other girls. There was something wrong with you, you... you were broken. So, you freaked out, shut yourself off to her, and the moment the both of you started high school, you became a totally different person.

Yet, Robin had another version of the story.

“Hey,” someone waved their hand across your face. “earth to Y/N. What are you staring at?” Chrissy followed your gaze towards Robin, who made awkward conversation with Vickie Whatever-the-fuck-her-name-is, and you turned to look at her, realizing you were staring.

Clearing your throat, you responded. “Oh, um, it’s nothing.”

Now, one thing you knew is, Chrissy Cunningham, contrary to popular belief, isn’t stupid, so the moment she looked at you with a cocked brow you knew you were about to be called out unless you redirected the conversation right at that moment.

“So, um, are you coming to the party after the game?”

Apparently, that put her on edge, since she tensed beside you and avoided your gaze. “No, I–um, have to go home, y’know, get changed first,”

You thought about asking, but it truly was none of your business, lest it be she start questioning you about why the hell you were looking at Robin.

“God, I sure do hope they win something for once. It gets kinda embarrassing always cheering for the losing team,” you sigh rubbing your neck.

Chrissy laughs in that all too charming way that reminds you of why half the basketball team trip over themselves to even get a word in with her. Big shiny smile and a cute tiny nose all scrunched up. Man, if you weren’t so hopelessly in love with someone else you’re sure you would’ve gotten a thing for her right away. “Don’t be mean, they’re… trying. I think.”

Nudging her elbow and wagling your brows, you reply, “You just say that ‘cause your loverboy is there,” a smirk on your lips.

The intention was to make her laugh, but at the mention of Jason, all she seemed to do was tense, a forced chuckle falling from her mouth. Once again you got the urge to ask, to see if she was okay. You noticed something seemed amiss a few weeks ago, but decided to brush it off. Now you’re kinda wondering if you should say something, but even if you did, you doubt Chrissy would actually tell you anything.

This was the nature of your relationship with her. To everyone else, you were best friends. You’d have sleepovers, go shopping together, gossip about guys, and whatever else girlfriends would do, but in reality, you probably knew about Chrissy just as much as everyone else did. There was no place between you for deep conversations or actual intimate talks. Not that anyone knew though. That was you, your life a carefully arranged act.

The game was thrilling, or that’s what you would say if you actually cared about sports, although you do have to admit it was more exciting than the previous one, with freshman Lucas Sinclair scoring and bringing the victory to the team, not a single second left to spare. The moment the game was over, you walked as quickly as possible to where you agreed to meet your supplier, but to no one’s surprise, he was late, so there you stood in a deserted hallway waiting for him to show up.

Man, Hawkings High was kinda creepy when there was no one around.

A few minutes later, you heard your supplier's annoying voice announce his presence.

“Aww, if it isn’t my favorite prissy princess,” Eddie Munson greeted teasingly, a big smile on his face as he saw you.

“Yeah, yeah, you got my stuff?”

“I missed you too, honey,” he said sarcastically. You raised your eyebrow and stuck your hand out, and at seeing your deadpan expression, he rolled his eyes and put his arms up. “Alright, alright. Yeah, I got your weed. Gee, I might get diabetes if you keep being this sweet,” he muttered.

Now, maybe calling him just your supplier was kinda mean. Against your better judgment, you couldn’t help but like the weirdo. You don’t really know how he went from being your dealer to your… friend, but you couldn’t be more glad it happened. You and him started to hang out occasionally since you lived in the same trailer park, and by the time you realized, occasionally turned into once a month, then once a week, then twice a week, to the point you’d always hang out if he wasn’t busy with his band or his D&D club. Hell, you would even go to his concerts sometimes, and help him plan his campaigns. Of course, you would never be publicly seen hanging out, and less of all dream of actually admitting that you care about him, but he– the way he was so unapologetically himself and didn’t give a fuck about what anyone thought… you admired it. It reminded you of her.

Everything seems to remind you of her nowadays.

“So, how did the campaign end?”

As he looks for your weed in his little metal box, his brown eyes seem to light up. “Ah, so you do care!”

His enthusiasm was adorable, but you tried to play off your interest anyway. “Pfft, you wish. I’m just interested in what you did with the amazing world I built,”

The look he gives you is skeptical as he hands you your weed. “Sure,” he draws out, “As much as I’d love to tell you, my fair maiden, I gotta meet another client so I’m in a bit of a rush,”

“Someone’s busy,” you remark handing him his money.

“All in the day of a devil’s work,” he says, arms open theatrically as he walks away from you. Before turning around completely, he shouts. “Ey, if you get shit-faced tonight save some for me, alright angel?”

“First of all, I won’t. Second of all, don’t call me angel if you want to keep your dick, Munson,” you shouted after him with a small smile on your face. He laughed and once again, you were alone.

Shaking your head, an amused chuckle left your lips. He acted all tough but at the end of the day he was just a nerd. A cute nerd, even, if you said so yourself. You were about to exit the building when a strong pain in your head made you dizzy, and you had to lean against the lockers in order not to lose your balance. Feeling a warm liquid drip down your nose, you lifted your hand up only to find blood

“Hey, you alright there?”

Fuck. Oh fuck. Shit. You knew that fucking voice, of course you knew that fucking voice, you’ve been hearing it in your dreams since middle school, fuck! Having a mild crisis, you questioned what to do, but before you could decide on anything she spoke again.

“Can you, like, speak up, please? Unless you’re like mute, in which case like I totally understand but if you aren’t um, like, it’d be appreciated. You don’t have to, but you don’t seem okay. Although if you’re not okay and want to be alone I can totally leave you alone y’know, I hate it when people don’t understand that, but also if something is wrong you can tell me, they say it’s bad to bottle things up and–”

You feel a fond smile slowly creeping up to your lips and can’t help but snort. “You talk a lot,” more than you remember.

As you turn to look at Robin you can immediately see the change in demeanor. She’s still in her band uniform, which makes her look a bit ridiculous, but you gotta admit she makes it work all the same. “Oh, it’s you,” the way her tone changes slices through your heart like a knife, but fuck if you don’t deserve it. She’s annoyed, you can tell, arms crossed, dismissive look; you think she’s about to leave until she gets a good look at your face and her eyes seem to zero in on your nose, eyebrows furrowed.

“Is that blood? Are you okay? What happened?” she leaned forward, as if to move towards you, but thought better of it and stayed in her place, although the look of concern remained.

“Yeah, just a nosebleed, don’t worry. Probably from all the spinning around,” an awkward laugh escaped you and you rubbed your neck, wondering how you’d get out of this situation.

Robin wrung her hands together, conflicted, as if she wanted to question you more, but refrained herself from it. “Sure, just… be careful,”

Placing her hands in her pockets, she turned around to leave but before you could stop your stupid mouth, the words had already escaped you. “You still care?”

That stopped her in her tracks and when your eyes connected again you could see a thousand emotions crossing them at lightning speed. Confusion, surprise, hurt, disbelief, before finally settling in anger. Fuck, that was a mistake.

“Believe it or not, I wasn’t the one who willingly stopped hanging out with you,” she said sarcastically.

“It’s–it’s not like that. I–”

“Yeah, well, you never bothered to explain anyway, did you? Just, ditched the loser and got a fresh new batch of cool friends,”

“Robin, I–”

“Hey, Y/N!” Patrick McKinney interrupted your conversation, jogging down the hall to where you were, smiling at having found you. As he went to put his arm around your shoulders, he finally seemed to catch on to the palpable tesion in the air, and looked between you and Robin confused.

Shit, you forgot. To prevent people from getting suspicious, you accepted a date with Patrick, one of the jocks from the basketball team. Morally, you know what you did was wrong, but out of the bunch, Patrick seemed sweet, and you know that he wasn’t as pushy as some of the others. He was the perfect candidate, and he liked you, you just, didn’t quite like him, as more than a friend at least.

“I’ve looking for you everywhere, you ready to go?” he sounded unsure, words trailing off and eyes drifting from Robin to you.

You stood there troubled, not knowing what to do. In truth, you wanted to explain the situation to Robin but really, what was there to explain? You weren’t about to say ‘Hey, Robin! So glad to see you. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, but I just had the hugest crush on you, y’know. Been in love since forever and couldn’t stand having to be with you without being able to kiss you or without imploding every single time you got close to me, and I would rather die than have to be there for when you got a boyfriend and came to talk to me about how much you loved him and how cute he was. But I’m cool now so everything’s okay, let’s be friends again! wanna have a sleepover?’.

As you pondered on what to do, Robin decided for you and sighed irritated. “Have fun with your lil’ boyfriend,” she muttered as she left, head downcast.

“You know her?” he questioned.

“Just– just an old friend. Let’s go,” ´Patrick looked hesitant, curious to know more, but he knew you, and the fact that you even gave him a chance at all was too big of an opportunity to fuck it up by being nosy, so he just smiled, trying to diffuse the tension by making idle chatter with you about the game.

Not that you really listened though, watching Robin leave from over your shoulder as you exited the school, headed to the party, and on your way out you could’ve sworn that you heard a clock ticking.

Robin’s route: Part 9 | Part 10

Eddie’s route: Part 9 | Part 10

#robin buckley #eddie munson #robin buckley x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #robin x reader #eddie munson imagine #robin buckley imagine

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wyverian-lady525 · 1 year

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Basically, Cheval meets his S/O, that was avoided practically their entire life due to losing half their face causing them to be angry towards humans and monsters until they met their monstie, as them and the Magnamalo shared the same feeling of being an ‘outcast’. The Magnamalo is incredibly protective, needing to be bribed to let Cheval anywhere near the rider. However after being saved from an Astalos the rider finally warms up to Cheval, you take it from there

Hope you like it!

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Outcasts

You and your Magnamalo monstie have been alone with each other for quite a while. Cheval has to try his hardest to earn both of your guys' trust.

Cheval would never forget the day that you allowed him into your life. The day your monstie allowed him into your life. It was a long and perilous struggle for all members of the party. But your story started long before he arrived.

And here it is...

You were in outcast in life, choosing to avoid both people and monsters whenever possible. It wasn't by choice either as most people tended to avoid you anyway. And you knew why.

It was due to your looks. People can be so shallow.

A monster, a Lucent Nargacuga to be exact, attacked your village when you were young. The invisible monster was all out of sorts, and many people got hurt, you included. In fact, one swipe of the monster's tail caused half your face to be viscously scarred. It was a miracle that you survived, however, the impacts of that night would forever live with you.

Your fear of monsters turned to anger, and soon, humans shared that same anger. You weren't any less of a person because you were missing your face, however, people will always see you as different. As an outcast that needs avoidance. You were on your own for years, preferring it actually.

But then you met your monstie, which was a monster no one thought could form a bond with anyone.

A Magnamalo.

The rampaging beast was misunderstood in its own way, feared by villagers for the damage it causes both to other monsters and people. It was an outcast to monsters, just like you were an outcast to people. In some weird way, you guys understood each other. The monstie became fiercely protective overtime, keeping watch over your blind side whenever possible.

Cheval met you by accident.

It turns out that both of you were hunting the same thing, a Zinogre, and the red-haired rider thought that you guys could hunt together. But you blew him off.

"I don't like working with others." You stated plainly.

"But that would have the best outcome." He argued back.

"Quite staring at my face!"

"I'm not!"

You guys would squabble, him just wanting to get to know you better and you wanting him to just leave you alone. Cheval found you intriguing, and yes, he couldn't stop himself from looking at your scars in the beginning. But it never caused him to avoid you like other people. In fact, it pushed him to travel more with you, much to your disdain sometimes.

"Can you quite it?" You said one evening when he offered to get some firewood.

"Quite what?" He asked, confused.

"Being nice." You said while shuffling in your seat.

"What's wrong with being nice?" Cheval argued with you again. It was a simple conversation to most, but to your protective Magnamalo, you were in need of saving.

Cheval was pushed flat onto his back when your monstie rose up and roared, shoving him to the ground. It had no boundaries when it came to guarding you, and Cheval was grateful that Rathi intervened. Her hissing and warning flames were enough to cause your monstie to back off-right to your side. Cheval patted the rathian, who settled a bit, and he sighed.

It was going to take a long while for you or it to warm up to him, this he knew. But he wasn't giving up.

In fact, Cheval figured out (and it was the weirdest thing) that your Magnamalo was addicted to the treat called Bunny Dango. A basket of that, and your monstie was brain dead as it munched on the treats. It was the perfect opportunity for him to talk to you without worried about getting eaten.

"Y/N, I have to ask...do I really bother you?" Cheval and you have never really had a heart to heart, but he really wanted to be your friend. And he didn't know it now, but his heart would soon long for more as well.

You sighed heavily.

"I'm just not used to people treating me like this." You admitted, and Cheval raised his brows.

"Do you want to tell me about it? I'm here to listen." He told you, and you suddenly felt insecure. No one has ever been so kind to you since you lost half your face. But Cheval was a different kind of man.

And so, you told him all about your life.

As days went by, you may have grown softer to Cheval, but your Magnamalo hasn't. No matter how much Bunny Dango he gave your monstie, it still didn't like him anymore. M/N and Rathi have grown to tolerate each other, but there was still fights here and there. Cheval didn't know what he could do to get your monstie to like him.

But then, out of the blue, an answer was handed to him.

You guys were camping on a rocky cliffside when the attack came. The two of you only had seconds to react when an Astalos came down from the sky, cloaked in lightning. It was on your blind side, so you were slower to react. Luckily, Cheval was quick to react and barreled into your side before shielding you protectively, scuffed up.

Apparently, you guys were camping close to the monster's nest, resulting in its aggressive behavior.

"You okay?" He asked, slightly out of breath.

"I am now." You said, smiling at him for what felt like the first time in forever. Cheval couldn't stop himself from smiling as well. Your guys' monsties were able to fend off the monster, and then you guys made the decision to leave the area in respect to its nest.

You were on your Magnamalo and Cheval was on Rathi as you guys gingerly walked down a path towards the next town. It was silent, and you were slightly flustered each time you looked over to see how scratched up he was.

"Thank you...for saving me." You said quietly, and your monstie huffed as well. You gave M/N a pat.

"M/N thanks you as well." You said with a slight smile. Cheval turned to look over his shoulder.

"Don't mention it. It was nothing." He said gently. Then there was silence again as you guys thought of what to say. Your monsties were walking closer than ever before, finally accepting each other's presence after nearly losing their riders.

"I want you to keep traveling with me." You said out of the blue, which caught him off guard.

"Really? I'm not too nice?" He said with mock offense, and you giggled for the first time in years.

"Don't push it."

The two of you then continued to travel together as friends, which quickly turned into lovers. You were afraid to let someone so close to you in your life, but Cheval understood your pain, even if it wasn't physical. You trusted him with your life now as did your monstie.

And he was never going to break that trust...

"I kept my word, right?"

"Yes. I have never felt more wanted in my life. I trust you wholeheartedly." You told him after he recalled this whole first meeting in his head. Cheval smiled as you moved to kiss his cheek, leading him to nuzzle the scarred side of your face.

The light of your campfire lit up the sweet embrace as Rathi snoozed on the sidelines and your Magnamalo was munching on some Dango.

Cheval still had to bribe the dang monstie to be near you.

#monster hunter stories #monster hunter stories 2 #mhst #mhst2 #cheval #monster hunter stories cheval #cheval x reader #mhst2 cheval

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thepaperqueendom · 1 year

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A few thoughts on Wednesday Addams.

A lot of people rn are discussing if the character is autistic - and maybe she is. It's a nice thought.

As someone who's probably on the spectrum herself (not officially diagnosed yet), I relate to her for a different reason though, and I think there might be another explanation for her behavior.

I believe old Tim just wanted to make a goth character who's a bit of an asshole for once*.

[* I know I'm oversimplifying this, as he didn't create the character and didn't even produce all episodes, but bear with me.]

He's worked on anchoring the macabre in the mainstream for decades, coming up with quirky but very loveable characters that are definitely goth. For me, as a kid, as for many other goths I know, his movies were a huge gateway to the aesthetic, I just didn't know back then that it would lead to me identifying wholeheartedly with the Dark Scene (to use the umbrella term common in German, "Schwarze Szene") as an adult.

If you're part of the scene, at least in my circles, you always try to stay approachable. Show society that you're not a menace, you just like what you like. You go out of your way to be extra polite and poised to make a good impression and elevate the reputation of "those terrible goths". See also: Gothic Charm School and, in general, the work of Jillian Venters aka The Lady of the Manners.

And sometimes, you just get fed up. You find yourself wanting to be elitist and shitty and deliberately creepy or off-putting to the "normies". You want to go back to gatekeeping the scene because it's yours, your own, your precious... not some fad for those who used to hate you for it. If you're a goth reading this, don't deny it!

Nevermore Academy is - in quite a bubblegummy and cute way that instantly reminded me of Monster High and other mainstream-y spooky infiltrations of recent years - every alt kid's dream already.

Wednesday should thrive there and feel right at home from the first minute, which is also what her parents expect, but instead, her first reaction is to sneer at everyone and everything, to try and keep her hard-earned status of weirdness and outcast-ness even among werewolf and vampire peers.

Because if you've been rejected by society long enough, your loner status becomes your own after a while, your sanctuary, your pride.

TL;DR: Wednesday is blunt and abrasive and antisocial not (just) because she's autistic, but because she's _proud_ of it, and because it's _fun_ sometimes, and because, after making goth a family-friendly household brand for so many years, Tim Burton just wanted to enjoy being a rude elitist deadpan goth for a bit. Also: the famous dance?! That's not Wednesday being weird or stimming, that's literally every goth club on earth, always!

#wednesday #netflix wednesday #tim burton #gothgoth #gothic musings #wednesday addams

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nikosasaki · 2 years

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tell me what you have planned for lou and nick in season 4 👀

hee hee ho ho;

this is a pretty rocky season for them both, mostly romantically speaking. for Lou, she's still reeling from the kiss between her and Steve last season; they haven't really talked about it and if it's up to Louisa she's probably taking that conversation to the grave.

when Eddie pops into Lou's life it's not only a mess of it's own, but it also complicates things between her and Steve even more. Eddie and Lou used to be friends in high school but Eddie completely embraced the whole social outcast thing while Lou chose to keep floating safely in the middle — so they grew apart. when Louisa finds out her baby brother has been hanging out with known drug dealer Eddie Munson, she very publicly (meaning in front of the whole Hawkins crew) threatens to turn him into a human jigsaw puzzle if he ever gets Dustin in trouble. in response to this Eddie laughs, gives Lou a side-hug, and tells her she's looking good. you can imagine the kind of jealousy spiral this sends Steve into.

Nick isn't faring much better, to be honest. ever since she found out Robin likes girls she's been all over the place, to the point where she can barely get a normal sentence out whenever Robin is around, which — since Robin and Lou became really good friends during the mall incident — is all the time.

to make things worse, aside from the new monster that's rearing it's head, Nancy suddenly joins their little group to help with the investigation. what's worse then hanging out with your current crush? hanging out with both your current and past crush. Nick really just keeps making a fool out of herself, not even noticing that Robin is doing the exact same thing, because they're both love-blind idiots. in one particularly award-winning stupid moment, Nick and Robin are bonding over how intense Nancy can be when Nick accidentally admits that she used to have a crush on Nancy. Robin, missing the pretty essential 'used to' part of that statement, can't help but also become quite jealous — though she's a lot more subtle about it than Steve is.

also some fun small bits;

Steve and Eddie bond because Eddie shows Steve all of the rock music that he knows Louisa likes.

Nancy and Louisa bond over Mike and Dustin, and their weird shared history with Steve (they finally talk about it!)

Robin discovers something interesting about herself; she thinks it's really hot when Nick is all covered in blood after fighting the demobats.

Steve and Robin bond over being to halves of a very jealous dumbass.

Louisa and Steve do actually talk about the kiss. but probably not in the way you'd hope they would.

Nick and Max grow close! along with Nancy, to the surprise of everyone. nobody really gets grief like Nick and Nancy do, so they're the ones Max ends up confiding in for the first time.

#thank u SO much for the ask #this is the season of jealousy and miscommunication #also the way lou and nick parallel robin and steve in how their friendship works <3 #i cant wait until 4b bc i really want those dynamics #also so i have a reason to write more about nicks little brother ricky #fragilestorm #again ily for the ask <3 #asks #ch: louisa #ch: nick

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readnburied · 8 months

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Book Review: Eliza and Her Monsters by Francesca Zappia

Date of Publishing: May 30th, 2017

Author: Francesca Zappia

Publisher: Greenwillow Books

Genre: Contemporary, Young Adult

After finding out the release date of this book I realize I’m kind of late to the party. But, don’t fret, that’s the norm for me. I’ve properly got back into reading since a couple of years ago, so I’m like the backlist queen because I’m reading books that have been published ages ago and gushing about them as if they’re new releases.

However, despite being late to the party, I’m still going to gush about this book because it was one of the cutest books I’ve ever read in quite a while. Not to mention this made me wish I was an artist so I could draw my own comic strip. And fan fiction is not a genre I write, but after reading this story, it made me want to give it a try, though I doubt I ever would, but it’s nice to think about it.

The story follows Eliza Mirk who is your typical definition of an outcast. She doesn’t have any friends and most of the people would consider her unpopular and weird, but she has a secret. A secret she likes to keep to herself as it protects her from the rest of the world. But she’s incredibly popular online because of her comic strip, Monstrous Sea and goes by the name Lady Constellation. Everybody loves her comic, but no one knows who she really is and that’s how she likes it. Then comes in Wallace Warland who happens to be a fan of Eliza’s comic just like everybody else and writes fan fiction based on the comic.

When Eliza comes in contact with Wallace, which signals the inception of their friendship, things start looking up for Eliza’s social life, even though deep down she’s afraid of Wallace finding out her true identity despite the fact that she wants to tell him herself. But things kind of fall of the rails for Eliza when her secret comes out in a way she never expected—in a way I never expected either—her world falls of its axis and the next she knows, she has to face the world and especially the boy who she’s started falling for.

I found this book to be adorable… and sweet. You can’t help but smile when you read this book which was what I did the entire time I was reading. Francesca Zappia not only nailed the family dynamics in this story but the way Eliza feels the need to hide her true identity from the world as she continues to do the thing that she loves the most is something I can relate to on a personal level. I felt seen by this book. Not to mention the fact that Wallace is one adorable character, who has his own secrets, but is a genuine person nonetheless and that’s all we’re looking for in this world—a bit of honesty.

Moreover, the writing style is easy and the pace is steady. You keep turning page after page and it doesn’t feel as if you’re experiencing bumps across this journey of the two characters who’re trying to show and hide at the same time. This was my first book by this author, but since I enjoyed her writing style, I definitely want to read other stories by her and hopefully I’ll enjoy those as well.

The plot wasn’t something unique, but it did bring with it its own unique flavor. I’ve never read a book involving a comic artist, so I found that pretty interesting. And I could relate to Eliza in a lot of ways, maybe that’s why I enjoyed this book as much as I did. Even when I was telling my friend about this book she also said that I’m like the real/human version of Eliza and maybe she’s right. Not only are the characters fleshed out really well, there’s something about each of them that make you feel something on a personal level and for me that character was Eliza, so thank you Francesca for writing this story and creating this character.

And the way Eliza’s secret comes out, I must say that was creative and something I did not see coming. I love it when authors catch me by surprise and this was one hell of a climax. I really need to learn a thing or two by Francesca Zappia about writing the climax as I always screw that part up. I’m a terrible writer. Pity party aside, the climax was amazingly executed and the ending was perfect. I couldn’t have asked for a better ending and if you wish to know how this book ends, then go pick yourself a copy. I highly recommend this book and the next time somebody asks me for a recommendation, I’m definitely naming this book as my first pick.

So there we go, my thoughts on Eliza and Her Monsters by Francesca Zappia. If you read this book, then do let me know in the comments what you thought of it and whether or not you agree with my opinions. If not, then do let me know if you intend to read it, because I know you won’t regret it.

#Read n Buried #Reading #currently reading #books and reading #booklr #Book Review #book community

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pumpkincentaur · 3 years

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NANOWRIMO 2021 PROJECT INTRODUCTION || BLOOD SPORT FOR COWARDS

MORDA LUCAN-AVASTIER is damaged goods. You aren't the same after you overload, even if you're lucky enough to survive. Even if your mind survives, your magic changes. Most survivors can never use their magic again. But Morda is different. Morda has seen the light on the other side. The accident didn't ruin her potential. Instead it shattered her limits. And now, she's going to be the greatest goddamn Ignisite this world has ever fucking seen.

KAHALI, SON OF AHARA shouldn't even be here. How he got here doesn't matter. What matters is that he's here, now, and it's going to be worth it. All the scars, all the pain—it's all going to be worth it in the end. Kahali is strong. He's spent his whole life struggling to become strong, going against everything he's ever known, and now, it's finally going to start paying off.

STERLING SILVERBLADE is a waste of breath. Compared to his younger twin brother, Sterling is worse in just about every way. He's standoffish rather than charming, an average student rather than a natural genius, an average mage rather than a magical marvel... and in the prestigious and powerful Silverblade family, that just won't do. He's tried to go his own way, but he can't put down the aching desire to prove that he's just as good. So he's not going to be just as good. He's going to be better.

JAEHAN LEAR is a freak of nature. Born with a rare, troubling form of magic, he's been an outcast his whole life—a mage discouraged from using his magic for the comfort of others. He is used to it. It's hard to have lived for nineteen years like this without being used to it. Getting involved with the Ignis Games is only natural for him. In a world where anything goes, even monsters are welcome. But nobody loves a monster, not even in an Ignis ring... right?

Every year, mages from all of Taralon's arcane colleges form teams of four and compete in the IGNIS GAMES, a nine-month-long series of magical duelling tournaments fought to the death. But in Taralon, even death is not permanent, and for the sake of spectacle (and TV ratings), the players are resurrected at the end of every match.

The rules are simple. The first team to die loses. The other side wins. At the end of the season, each member of the winning four-man team gets granted a wish—a wish without any sort of restrictions. Jaehan, Sterling, Kahali, and Morda are going to WIN—and die a whole lot trying.

WIP INFORMATION

Genre: Urban Fantasy/Dark Comedy/Sports Drama (is that even a thing?)

Series or Standalone: Intended to eventually be a web serial, actually!

Expected Word Count: Who knows? I don’t.

WIP Page: here (also linked in the title above)

WIP Tag: #bsfc

Themes and Tropes: sports anime character development but make it wizards and also completely bonkers | university coming-of-age stories | wrestling influences in that the main cast is an all-heel team | insane sports rivalries | the drawbacks of intensely competitive environments | strict & disapproving parents | found family | soft magic systems | I mean EXTREMELY soft magic systems | everything is bullshit and the points don’t matter

Blood Sport for Cowards is an ongoing project. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, please let me know! More info under the cut.

Hoh boy. What do I say about Blood Sport for Cowards? Where do I even begin?

This one’s a bit of an oddball. I’ve actually had the concept for it in mind since 2016 (came up with it while I was in Japan, before this blog existed), but I haven’t actually done anything with it... until now, that is. I think it’s a really neat idea that deserves some attention, but...

...It’s weird. Obviously. It’s quite offbeat in a way that I feel is a little bit too funky to seek traditional publishing for. So, depending on how it develops, I intend on publishing it as a web serial. I should stress that this is a very exploratory draft zero, so the project may change enough to fit into a traditional novel format. Who knows! We’ll figure it out.

Anyways, it’s going to be very fun to write in a very different way from how UHT is fun to write, and I’m looking forward to it.

(Side note--UHT is NOT going away! I’m just taking a bit of a break from it for Nano, considering my personal life at the moment does not lend well to continuing work on UHT. I’ll get back on that bandwagon again soon.)

#bsfc #myedits #writeblr #writblr #writers on tumblr #novels on tumblr #nanowrimo #nanowrimo 2021 #thinking i'll post weekly updates too! i'm ready to get involved with this one hardcore #blood //

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kate-river · 3 years

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Of Dragonids and Witchers

In which two Wolf school witchers set out for a monster hunt and finally come to terms with their difficult emotional past.

Dear @ohciq this is your secret santa speaking :) I wish you very happy holidays and I hope this adds a few drops of water to your crops! ;)

Thanks @thewitchersecretsanta for hosting this amazing event!

Warnings: none

read on AO3

Geralt smelled the shabby village miles away. Humans, no matter the space they had on offer, created the stench with their infallible ability to destroy their surroundings. Over time Geralt got into the habit of avoiding such places as they were usually tied to all sorts of trouble. And it seemed like this place was no exception

Suddenly the tracks he had been following came to an end. Geralt sighed and reigned in Roach. He had expected this to happen and still it irritated him. What the fuck was that bloody idiot up to?

Pondering his options Geralt looked around. To his left, just out of the thicket, a narrow uneven trail headed for the village. To his right, it vanished into a light forest. “Great,” the witcher mumbled. It was impossible to further track the soft hoof prints on the stony ground. But he already knew which way to go.

Still, he hesitated for a moment. Why would he hide in such a place? What had kept him from covering his tracks? Something was very fishy and Geralt didn’t like it.

Anyways, he spurred on Roach. Passing a few outcast buildings, an old decrepit barn and a small herbalist’s cottage along the way Geralt made for the village. It wasn’t a big settlement: a few wooden houses, the alderman’s clearly distinguished from the others. And of course, there was an inn. The modest horse shelter in front of it caught Geralt’s attention. A fine black horse was contentedly feeding on hay there and the witcher immediately recognized the Kaedweni bred steed.

He stopped in front of the inn and tied Roach to the shelter. The other horse, clearly trained to avoid a stranger’s touch, did not twitch under Geralt’s caress. Instead he snorted and nudged Geralt’s torso. The witcher couldn’t help but laugh quietly. “It’s good to see you, Scorpion” he whispered and pulled a sugar cube out of his pocket. Roach jealously stomped her front hoof and Geralt turned to treat her just as well. Then he headed for the inn’s entrance.

The main room was pretty dark, only a few tables fitting into the space. Some drunkards were assembled around one of them and from their babbling Geralt gathered that they must have spent a fair amount of time in that inn today.

It took them a few moments to become aware of Geralt, but when they did, their noisy chatter fell silent. The innkeeper however was not impressed by the witcher’s presence. At least he didn’t let it show “Good day to you sir”, he greeted Geralt “What can my humble establishment do for yet another one of your kind?” “Another one?” Geralt asked curiously and the innkeeper nodded towards the corner on his right. A dark figure, covered in a long dirty cloak sat separately at a small table, two long and thin packages lying next to him. Geralt smiled and the innkeeper’s façade started to crumble at this sight.

In the same instant the dark figure got up and pushed back the hood. A face, disfigured yet cordially smiling, appeared underneath. Eskel.

“Glad to see you, Wolf!“ The other witcher hugged Geralt tightly. The embrace was short, brotherly, but like music, there was more to it. It was I missed you just as well as good to have you back. And it lasted a few seconds too long adding an unspoken feeling that lingered between them.

They sat down at the small table in the shady corner and started a casual conversation. After a proper meal their merry chatter grew more serious and finally Geralt asked Eskel what he was actually doing here. Geralt carefully withheld the fact that he had tracked him. Very easily at that. In fact, so easily that Geralt had initially suspected a serious issue, since Eskel had obviously paid no attention to covering his tracks.

“Had a pretty nasty contract down in Lyria. Thought I’d better head for Kaedwen early this year. Also, this fucking weather…” he nodded toward the dirty window and suddenly went silent.

Immediately sensing Eskel’s discomfort Geralt changed the topic. It was no use asking a witcher about things he had encountered on the Path and was not yet willing to talk about. Whatever happened to him sure had been unpleasant but apparently Eskel was out of danger and Geralt decided not to inquire any further.

They slowly found their way back to less serious topics, finally joking about old stories and anecdotes. By then the atmosphere of the inn had somewhat changed. The drunkards had left and only the innkeeper remained behind the bar. While he had appeared rather brave at Geralt’s arrival, he didn’t look anything like it by now. He was frantically cleaning tankards and seemed visibly distressed.

Eskel had already caught on to it and in an instant changed the way he talked to Geralt. “I guess we have a job for Vesemir here” he muttered. It took Geralt a few seconds to understand the code phrase as he hadn’t heard it in quite some time. Focusing on his sharpened senses he also became aware of the light footsteps quickly approaching the inn. “I guess we’ll have a visitor soon”, he growled.

Suddenly the innkeeper vanished into the backroom. The witchers perceived a knock on a wooden door, the timid opening of the same and muffled voices. The man who had approached the inn tried to reach the bar. But the innkeeper didn’t let him through, insistently whispering. “She was my daughter!”, the intruder shouted at him. Eventually the innkeeper lost his patience: “Mihal, you won’t bring her back to life!” “Out of my way, old man!”

Next, they heard a thud and a stubby man with a red face burst into the room. He came running to the witchers and Eskel already raised his hand to cast a sign as the man threw himself to the ground.

“Master witchers, I need your help” he cried desperately and Eskel immediately lowered his hand. “Then speak!” Geralt commanded, adding a bit more emphasis to it than intended.

“There is a monster in the mountains! A flying dragon! It haunts our village and a week ago,” he started sobbing uncontrollably, “it killed my daughter! Please, I will pay you with all I have left. But bring justice to my little girl!”

While the man was regaining his self-control, the innkeeper returned to his place behind the bar. He was pressing a wet cloth to his head and an endless stream of curses left his mouth. “That bloody witch! The wench summoned the demon! We should have burned her!”

“I’ve heard enough” Geralt spat out and shot the innkeeper an irritated glance. He fell silent immediately. “But he’s telling the truth master witcher!”, the red-faced man interfered. By now he was on his feet again, but silent tears were still running over his cheeks. “The damn wench cursed us! She lured the monster into our village! There was a dead sheep and some smelly grasses.”

Eskel shot Geralt a glace. A dead sheep stuffed with buckthorn? The ideal bait for a griffin! Whatever was going on here, somebody really meant to attract a monster!

“Are there still any traces of the bait left?”, Eskel asked calmly. The innkeeper nodded and answered grimly. “The beast turned its back on it as it saw Mihal’s daughter hiding underneath the shack nearby. The minute Mihal ran to her rescue the beast grabbed her with its huge claws and tore her apart. I beg you, please kill that monster for us.”

Still fighting his tears Mihal added: “The attack happened at the old barn on the trail that comes in from the south.”

“I think I know where it is”, Geralt muttered. He got up, Eskel following a moment later. “We will check the area. Meanwhile stay indoors if possible!”

When they rode through the darkness next to each other a familiar feeling welled up in Geralt’s heart. It reminded him of the stolen nights they had spent in the forests of Kaer Morhen, their first attempt to try their newly acquired abilities. It also painfully reminded him of when they had overcome the fear of punishment for walking the Path together. The time they spent in each other’s arms becoming the greatest liability in their lives so far. Eventually the light feeling changed into something heavy and Geralt tried to stop his reverie.

“What’s going on Geralt?” Eskel asked. He was comfortably sitting on Scorpion’s back and seemed lost in his own thoughts. “Did they teach you mindreading at Ban Ard?”, Geralt replied half smiling, trying hard not to let show even more of the things that came to his mind. “Unfortunately, not”, Eskel laughed, “but I still know you well.”

You bloody well do Geralt thought, but he didn’t reply. The bond they had regained over the past few winters was too precious to be tested on silly thoughts.

Eventually they arrived at the barn. The grass around it was grown high and it seemed like the decrepit building hadn’t been in use for years. A crooked sign hung in front of it saying “Do not enter” in the common language.

They examined the surroundings in the pale moonlight, and within a short time they came upon the odour trail of the monster bait. They found some of the remains of a herb stuffed sheep in the thicket nearby and it was pretty clear that the bait had been torn apart by gigantic claws. The sheep had indeed been stuffed with Buckthorn, but there was another herb too. Eskel fished some off it from a tree and identified it as beggartick blossoms. It was a rare herb, and it was usually used to refine fisstech. A strange choice to put into a bait, as it was far more use to the owner when sold to some shady individual for a good price.

“What do you think, Geralt? Beggartick is a weird choice for a bait! Something’s wrong here...”

“Guess we have to have a word with the herbalist. And we should examine the body if they haven’t buried it yet.” The body of a child - disfigured by a dragonid.

“I can take care of the examination”, Eskel said softly. Geralt nodded and was silently thankful that Eskel spared him the horrible sight of a child that could have just as well died from a Witcher’s trial.

After a short discussion they separated and Eskel rode back into the village to find Mihal and his daughter’s corpse. Geralt instead stayed at the abandoned barn and started a search for beggartick in a more extensive radius. One hour after sunrise he admitted defeat and carried on to the more important task that he was responsible for. On Roach’s back he returned to the stony trail that ultimately lead to the village and stopped in front of the herbalist’s cottage.

There was a small garden around it, no curious herbs, but practical ones like fool’s parsley, ribleaf and celandine. Geralt dismounted and knocked at the shuttered door. At first there was no reply but as he knocked a second time a woman answered. “What the hell do you want? Leave me be!”, she frantically shouted.

It took Geralt some time to convince her to let him in, but finally the herbalist opened the door. As he started his inquiries on the buckthorn, she grew impatient, irritated even and tried hard to avoid the topic. But Geralt kept pushing and finally she admitted having stuffed a dead sheep with buckthorn from a nearby lake. It was intended to scare the local folk as they had accused her of witchcraft when she had started a fight with a band of fisstech dealers. She finally wanted to scare them, force them to show some respect. And then it all went awfully wrong. What she had thought to be an old wives’ tale was truly a powerful means to attract monsters. The incident with the small girl was neither planned nor foreseen. Mihal’s daughter had been playing not far from the place where the herbalist had put up the sheep and suddenly a dragon had aimed at the bait. But as it had made out the girl, it had chased her instead and killed her in an instant.

“And you’re sure it was a dragon?” Geralt asked. The herbalist gave a long but vague answer and Geralt made a mental note to discuss the possible dragonids in the area with Eskel.

When she finished the description of the monster, she added some useful information though. She had seen where the monster had come from and returned to – the mountains north of the village – and by her description Geralt was sure to find the monster’s lair there.

“And what about the Beggartick?”, Geralt reminded her after she had finished her story. She sighed and said “You see, I was really tired of this shit. All those people, they come to me for help, for, I don’t know, a magic cure, and in the same breath they call me a witch for all the things they don’t understand. Jacub’s gang is spreading rumors and now half the village would burn me if the chance arises. I simply became furious and saw my chance for revenge!”

Geralt left the herbalist after she had finally admitted the unintended murder of the girl. There was not much to say about her situation and Geralt wondered if leaving the village would change it for the better.

Eskel was already waiting for him at the inn and updated him on his finding about the corpse. In fact there was nothing new about it. Big claws, a bird’s beak and a preference for internal organs were not much to go on.

The witchers finally decided to follow the herbalist’s advice and set out for the mountains. They stuck to the path leading north and by the end of the day they had climbed a rugged hill. Beneath the shoulder of a rock they found a good spot to make camp and they decided to give both the horses and themselves a rest. For some time, they indulged in food and conversation and eagerly discussed their speculations about the monster.

When the night grew colder and the fire between them turned into an appreciated source of heat Eskel pulled out a bottle from his saddlebag. It was a fine distillate of White Gull and Geralt anticipated there was another long night ahead of them.

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

By now they were far from the amount of hooch a human could manage. Their pupils were blown wide and they relied upon their joint forces should the wilderness around them turn hostile.

“Seriously, were did you get this?” Geralt asked and raised the bottle he was holding. An appreciative gesture that made Eskel laugh.

“Won’t tell you Wolf”, he answered mysteriously and fondly looked at Geralt.

He in turn smiled mischievously and lent back against the rock. Maybe Geralt would come back on this later, there must be a good story behind it. But talking of a good story…

“Well, what about your route then? Came across your track. Twice. You’re not trying to cover it up these days?” Geralt said, a teasing smile still on his lips.

Eskel hiccupped silently. It was hard to tell where the melancholic look on his face suddenly came from. Up next, he sighed and gently rubbed his scar. “Stop this, Geralt.”

Even though Geralt didn’t get to the bottom of it, he again felt Eskel’s displeasure. There was no way around it and suddenly it took up the room between them.

“I don’t understand…”

“I see.” Eskel deadpanned and took another gulp from the bottle. Then he went silent. After some time, he stared up into the starry sky. “What do you think the Path would be like if there were different rules?”

“Well, wouldn’t make it any easier, would it?”, Geralt slurred. Through his blurred vision he tried to observe Eskel. His dark hair, the amber eyes, that damn old scar.

“What’s this all about, huh?”

Suddenly irritated, Eskel got up. His movement seemed a little too fast for his current state and his unsteady footing additionally attested to that.

“Sorry Geralt, but this”, he vaguely gestured back and forth between Geralt and the empty bottles that had started to pile up “is giving me a headache. Good night.” His smile looked crooked and Geralt was reminded of the several times Eskel had overindulged.

When he made it to his bedroll a few minutes later, the awkward smile would not leave him though. In his dreams it turned into an evil grin, a mocking laugh, scorning the warm little feeling that had crept into his heart again this evening.

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

“Geralt?”

An ungloved hand touched Geralt’s shoulder. The touch was accompanied by a soft tingle and the scent of petrichor and leather. This stilled the white haired witcher’s immediate reaction, as he concluded that the hand did not belong to an enemy.

Geralt growled as he sat up and was pretty astonished to see a well-rested, even cheerful Eskel finishing the preparations for a sparse breakfast. Suddenly the warm feeling from yesterday evening returned.

Eskel laughed, cordially and kind this time, and handed him a mug. It contained some kind of herbal tea.

“Didn’t expect that, huh?” he smiled.

Geralt tried to smile back, but yesterday’s white gull still made him hurt. With a questioning look he muttered: “How did you…?”

Taking advantage of Geralt’s confusion Eskel put on his lecturer face and cited: “When there is the risk of intoxication, the witcher has to retreat for meditation.”

“Seriously, in your state?”, Geralt laughed in disbelief.

“Just drink your tea, Wolf!”, Eskel replied softly and started to dismantle their little camp. It was not until Geralt’s headache had ceased that he realized that Eskel must have put something into the tea.

“You bastard, it’s Wives’ Tears, right?” “Let’s rather stick to the meditation story”, Eskel grinned and mounted his horse.

They set out for the high plateau that reared up in the distance. Whatever dragonid was waiting for them it would certainly have its lair in great heights. But great heights came with difficult paths and after hours of traveling Eskel and Geralt eventually decided to leave behind Roach and Scorpion.

Not long after they had dismounted, Geralt discovered a piece of sheepskin in the bushes. It strongly smelled of buckthorn, but as it had been a week since the dragonid incident there was no scent left in the air to track. Still, both Geralt and Eskel grew tense. They were closing in on the monster.

They continued their ascent and finally reached a small trail that lead up to the plateau. By then they walked in silence - alert and ready to fight. Geralt didn’t like the way they approached the monster. The dragonid would most likely attack from above and additionally their lack of knowledge about its hiding place put them at a disadvantage. But that was a witcher’s everyday business, right?

Suddenly Eskel signaled Geralt to stop. He dodged and pressed against the stone wall. Geralt immediately mimicked his movements.

Above them a gigantic griffin raised itself into the air. Its wide-spread wings shimmered red and blue and the gigantic claws on both wings and feet flashed in the daylight.

Eskel spat some dwarfish curses and the witchers made for the last few steps on the trail. The griffin turned in midair and aimed for them. Eskel only just reached the plateau as the monstrous beast dived over them. It didn’t attack, the dive was simply intended as a warning.

“Damn it”, Geralt cursed and drew his silver sword. How were they supposed to kill such a majestic creature? For a split second he locked eyes with Eskel.

Are you ready?

As the griffin returned Eskel certainly was. He struck it with a blow of Aard and the griffin tumbled to the ground. Geralt lunged at it and dealt a blow to its wing. The griffin reared up and Geralt could jump back just in time. As the griffin took off it tried to grab Eskel who parried the attack with a furious blast of Igni. The immense creature emitted an ear-piercing cry as it withdrew into the sky.

Eskel cursed again but he underestimated the griffin. Instead of fleeing, it turned around and dived down toward the plateau. This time focusing on Eskel only.

Something in Geralt’s brain snapped and he took a leap forward. He barely managed to shove the other witcher aside. In a split second he had to combine this protective move with the Aard sign. Geralt’s magic wasn’t as powerful as Eskel’s but it was enough to knock the griffin off its balance.

Don’t you dare.

Suddenly furious, he turned on the griffin. His movements were fast and flawless, accurate and cold. Pirouetting away under the griffin’s assaults he managed to injure it on a delicate spot just beneath its collarbone.

But then there was a single movement that slipped Geralt’s attention. The griffin tried to strike him with its right wing and when Geralt launched into a counterattack, the griffin started to take flight and grabbed him.

Geralt’s cry mingled with the griffin’s screams as Eskel pierced the beast’s left wing with his sword. The griffin let go of Geralt and turned on Eskel again. It screeched at him and Eskel ruthlessly smashed an Ard sign against it. This time it knocked over the beast and Eskel didn’t waste a second. He darted at the griffin and before it was able to move again, he thrust the silver sword into its heart.

Panting heavily, he jumped off the dead body and ran towards Geralt. The white wolf lay on the ground, hunched over, his face contorted in pain. A long bloody gash gaped over his stomach.

Eskel fell on his knees and in a first impulse he pressed his hands against the ferocious wound. At the touch Geralt screamed in pain. From then on, Eskel couldn’t remember the chronological order of events. At some point he realized that his hands were aching as he had conducted healing magic for Melitele knows how long. Next to him lay an empty vial of Swallow - some of its contents were poured over the wound and the rest of it had hopefully found its way down Geralt’s throat.

As the bleeding ceased, Eskel carefully tried to take off the pieces of armour and clothing that still covered it and he skillfully managed a makeshift dressing of the wound.

Geralt made a few muffled noises, but his heartbeat had become steady again. “Hey Wolf, can you hear me?”, Eskel asked softly. Geralt grunted and Eskel went on, “I have to get the horses – you’ll need stitches when the magic wears off and I don’t have any equipment here.”

“Hold on to me!”, Eskel continued and ever so carefully lifted the other witcher, not actually relying on Geralt’s cooperation. He laid him down under the shelter of a small rock and tried to make him comfortable with his cloak. Then Eskel bent over him and slipped his last vial of Swallow into his hands. “I’ll be right back. Stay safe, Wolf”, he whispered and turned around before Geralt could see how worried he actually was.

Searching the horses took Eskel longer than expected and when he finally managed to force Scorpion and Roach up the uneven trail, it was already getting dark. He was instantly back at Geralt’s side and sighed in relief as he realized that nothing had happened in his absence.

After Eskel had unpacked their bedrolls and prepared a small fire, he fished out his equipment from Scorpion’s saddlebags and got ready to tend to Geralt’s wound properly. He worked in silence, expert and precise, but the memories that were tied to patching Geralt up tormented him. When he finally finished, he saw that Geralt’s witcher medallion was twisted around and reached over to set it right again.

Then he saw the plain stone framed on the reverse of the medallion. It showed a hastily carved rune of Quen. Eskel remembered it all too well. He had crafted it for Geralt as some kind of protection for his first year on the Path. The older witchers had punished him for “excessive attachment” to somebody else, but the stone still remained. Eskel did not know that Geralt had kept it all along the way through everything that had happened to them.

“You kept it after all those years?”, he stammered, trying hard not to show any of the feelings he had buried deep inside, ever since their emotional attachment had turned into a problem.

“Always”, Geralt said slowly and reached for Eskel’s hand.

The two witcher had never been good with words and so Eskel just cherished the moment. Not long afterwards Geralt fell asleep and Eskel eventually decided to rest a bit too.

He would not let go of Geralt’s hand though. Instead he knelt down next to him and sunk into a light meditation. When Vesemir had taught them how to meditate they had also started like this – with touch as their only focus.

It was still dark when Eskel opened his eyes again. The fire had nearly burned down and Eskel added some more wood to it. In the meantime, Geralt turned and made an uneasy sound.

“Are you awake, Geralt?”

Geralt only groaned, but he already tried to sit up as well as possible.

“You asked me why I didn’t cover my tracks…”, Eskel took a deep breath. Somehow the words came to him and he knew if he didn’t say them right now, he probably never would. “I missed you. Badly. There were rumours you were in Daevon, so I rode up to Kaedwen hoping to catch up with you. There was a day where I felt like I had crossed your path and from there I stopped covering my tracks. I was hoping you’d find me. Well, you eventually did. But then some foglets came first and followed me for days. It was constantly raining and I didn’t want to fight them until I knew how many of them there were. But they ambushed me and I ended up in that damn village. I am glad you found me, Geralt. I just missed you so much.”

Carefully he squeezed Geralt’s hand. Geralt reciprocated and suddenly he softly pulled Eskel closer.

“You damn fool”, he said slowly. “I missed you too, you know?” Then he pressed a chaste kiss on Eskel’s lips.

The soft touch was neither a confession nor a vow. It felt like a permission – a permission to explore unspoken feelings and experience closeness in a new way. And that was it. Plain and simple.

#the witcher secret santa #thewitchersecretsanta #ohciq #gifts 2020 #witcher fic #geralt #eskel #geralt x eskel #gereskel #eskralt #geralt/eskel #or whatever the tag is these days ;)#aaaahhh i can't believe this is happening #my first fic in english❤#what do you think?#😊

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brightbeautifulthings · 3 years

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My Heart Is a Chainsaw by Stephen Graham Jones

"No, she can never be a final girl. Final girls are good, they're uncomplicated, they have these reserves of courage coiled up inside them, not layer after layer of shame, or guilt, or whatever this festering poison is. Real final girls only want the horror to be over. They don't stay up late praying to Craven and Carpenter to send one of their savage angels down, just for a weekend maybe. Just for one night. Just for one dance, please? One last dance?"

Year Read: 2021

Rating: 3/5

About: Jade is certain that her small, Idaho town of Proofrock is being stalked by a slasher killer. The only problem is that she's the "horror chick", a social outcast obsessed with the slasher genre, and the more she tries to explain what's happening to the local law enforcement, the guiltier she makes herself look. Positive that Letha, a new girl from the rich neighborhood being built across the lake, is the Final Girl, Jade tries to convince her of what's happening before it's too late. But getting close to Letha means giving someone else a glimpse into who Jade really is, and her secrets may be just as dark as whatever's stalking their town. I received a free e-ARC through NetGalley from the publishers at Gallery Books/Saga Press. Trigger warnings: graphic character deaths, suicide attempt, rape, pedophilia, incest, gore, racism.

Thoughts: There are quite a few things I liked about this book, and I think it will work well for most slasher fans. Jade will be easy for most horror fans to relate to, since she thinks in slasher films. They're how she sees and understands the world, not just a hobby but almost a religion, at least if we think in terms of things that save us. If you've ever been comforted by monsters or serial killers, or if horror ever gave you something to hold on to when you most needed it, then you're in this weird club with Jade and me, and I think that's really what this novel does best. It's a love letter to the slasher genre, with more references than even an avid horror fan like myself could follow.

There are other things to like about Jade. She's both gutsy and vulnerable, with a teenager's penchant for doing things that aren't always in her best interest, and I constantly wavered back and forth between ‘let's be friends’ and ‘someone please protect this child.’ (She just wants someone to listen to her talk about horror movies! For the record, I'm always available for that. Lay your nerd knowledge on me.) She's also half Native American, which brings some much-needed diversity to the slasher genre. The side characters are interesting, and I think purposely edge toward stock with the town sheriff and the Final Girl. Things are always more interesting when Jade is interacting with one of them, and it gives us the most clues to what's really happening. (That confession scene? Masterful writing.) One of the bigger flaws of the novel, for me, is that this just doesn't happen that much. Jade is a loner and spends most of her time in her own head instead of interacting with people. It's relatable and even understandable given her background, but it's pretty devastating to the character development.

In terms of setting up its own slasher plot, the book isn't quite as strong there either. I like the way the novel keeps us guessing about what's really happening. Jade isn't the most reliable narrator, and there were plenty of times I didn't trust her to interpret what was happening correctly. There are a number of people dying in ways that could almost be coincidental, and the book is constantly walking that knife's edge of tension on is there/isn't there something more going on here. While the clues are there, I didn't feel prepared for the direction Jones actually took with that, and it felt a little like he went for the shock value solution instead of the credible one. (More on that after the spoilers.) All in all though, this book is bloody good fun, and I hope they make a movie out of it. I think it would translate really well to the screen.

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS. TURN BACK BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE.

Huh... Okay, I wasn't expecting the book to take a dip into the supernatural. I guess I should have been, since there's precedent in things like Friday the 13th Part 2 and A Nightmare on Elm Street, but when I think "slashers" I'm not usually thinking that there's no reason Jason Voorhees should even still be alive in these films, just that he's hacking people up with a machete. Jade touches on the subject of the Lake Witch a number of times, so I suppose it shouldn't have been a surprise that she turns up as the town killer. It felt less like the best answer to this mystery and more like an excuse to have an absolute bloodbath at the end, which is fun but sometimes hard to follow. But, whatever. It's creepy that she walks on top of the water, and I like Jade rising to her full Final Girl status. She’s a worthy addition to the ranks of Laurie and Sidney.

#book review #my heart is a chainsaw #stephen graham jones #horror fiction #horror #slashers #gallery books #saga press #netgalley #3/5 #rating: 3/5 #2021

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inessencedevided · 4 years

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The Untamed, episode 48 - watching notes

I've got more tissues prepared because Yunmeng bro feelings always hit me HARD and that's where I left off last time

I find it kinda sweet that lwj is defending Wen Ning

It makes so much sense for Jiang Cheng to immediately bring up his old resentment cor the way his father treated then up. It really all goes back to that. The feeling of being always second best, both to his father in comparison to wwx and to wwx in comparison to lwj. And while wwx sacrificed his core because he thought of himself as inferior to Jiang cheng (not in skill but in worth), to Jiang Cheng it comes off as him once more playing the hero :/

All in all THESE IDIOTS NEVER LEARNED TO PROPERLY COMMUNICATE

Also the way Jiang cheng says "then what am I?" Reminds me a lot of the way he grieved for his core

You know what fucked me up most during this whole conversation?

Because that's it. He can't! 😭

He still loves wei Wuxian and he can't understand why wwx never chose him. Why he chose to protect lwj and the wens when he knew it would endanger their clan. And from that perspective, I get it. I feel like to Jiang Cheng, his clan is everything. It's only natural. He is the (future) clan leader and he was raised that way. It was always going to be his responsibility and at the same time, he always had this very clear cut role in their society.

But wei Wuxian? He loved their family and he did feel at home at their clan, but he was still very much an outsider. Madam Yu hated him, people kept calling him a servant when it suited them and told him to mind his place as such when he spoke up. He could emphasize with the outcasts of society because he himself never truly left that outsider status behind either!

Which left him and Jiang Cheng in opposing positions with no way of understanding the other's point of view

... while still loving each other

😭

Because all they were in the beginning, was two boys being brothers 😥

Which leads me to the conclusion that, once more, the true enemy of this story isn't any single person, it's society.

Okay, sorry that this essentially turned into meta. That's probably not what you're here for, but as thus show comes to an end, I have FEELINGS and THOUGHTS and I need to get them out 😅

I have another rant in my head on whether or not I think wwx was right in transferring Jiang Cheng his ckre without telling him, but I'm holding that in for now 🙈

That I'm sorry. From BOTH of them. 😭

THAT'S GROWTH!!! 😭😭😭

Wei Wuxian saying that it's all in the past now made me cry. So. Much. Because it's an ending. It sounded to me like he wanted to wipe the slate clean. No promises. No betrayals. Start anew. And ... I'm not okay 💔😥

Hey Nie Huaisang. Welcome to the party :D

Um ... what's happening?

Are they ... burning?

Jin Guangyao played with fire and got burned or what kind of metaphor is this?

I'd be about as good as nie Huaisang at hiding my reaction in that situation, tbh ^^

This is the weirdest hostage situation I have ever seen, with everybody just running around sind no one even guarding the hostages

The hell is in that tomb? 😳

Wait ... nie Mingjue was the headless corpse? And okay, the head is obviously seen back on here but ... how did it get there so quickly and WHY is Jin Guangyao surprised?? Wasn't he in possession of the head??

I.am.confused

Poor Huaisang :'(

And poor Jin Ling. He's learning quickly just how fucked up his family is 😬

*dramatic thunder in the distance*

👆 favourite trope of mine :D

It's an oldie but a goodie

Wwx understands something I don't ^^

Also nice to know that even when they're both without powers lwj will still protect his husband 🥰

Okay, so ... someone put the body there. The same somebody who orchestrated everything else

WHO??

Omg, I love how wwx plays at Jin Guangyao's paranoia by essentially manipulating him as he did others and then turns to lwj, with a little shrug and a half smile like

CAN I PLEASE GET 50 EPISODES OF THESE TWO SOLVING MONSTER OF THE WEEK MYSTERIES TOGETHER? 😭

So they FINALLY thought it was a good idea to actually restrain their hostages. Genius!

Wait ... Su She has that hole curse, too?

OHHHH

He was the one who cursed Jin Zixun???

I hadn't even thought about the fact that that was still an unanswered question! 😱😱😱

Jgy telling wwx that they were always going to end up on opposite sides is SO interesting and betrays a level of self-awareness I would not have afforded this guy

The thing is, su she raging at lwj for this is really the wrong address. Not because what he says isn't at least partially right (lwj was born into privilege and there is a stark disparity in how clan disciples and peripheral disciples are treated), even in the lan clan, but not BY lan Wangji. He's the guy who knelt before his uncle and let himself, the sect leader's son, be punished alongside the servant's son.

It's fascinating to see Jin Guangyao's mask fall

And his view of wwx is even more fascinating

He deliberately used wwx status as an outsider to society in combination with his impulsive and righteous character to further his own agenda of setting his own status as an outsider

It's like the ULTIMATE Slytherin vs. Gryffindor story line 😁

Also SOCIETY IS THE VILLAIN!!!

I'm not gonna lie, Jin Guangyao nakes some good points. Not saying he's not a terrible person or that he's not responsible for his own actions, but still he's successfully identified a lot of systematic problems in the cultivation world 🤷‍♀️

... and then proceeded to horribly exploit them for his own benefit *sighs*

Very sneaky, Wei Ying. I don't know what you're doing it, but good job getting him to keep talking

Xichen really be regretting all his life choices right now

It breaks my heartba bot, knowing that they really did bond that first time they met. And Xichen believed in him ever since 🥺

As sorry as I feel for him, I'm pretty sure it's going to get worse 🙈

OH MY GOD WWX CAN CONTROL GHOSTS BY WHISTLING ALONE NOW?

That is simultaneously SO cool and SO creepy! 😱

And kinda hot

On a related note, I realized that wwx is basically a Necromancer Bard and now I really wanna play one

Ohhh, the sword ghost!

😳

Isn't Xichen without powers right now?

No!!!

Puh, su she didn't kill him

But now I'm confused how lwj can use his powers

Ohhh

He's got the stygian tiger amulet?

I'm missing some crucial bit of plot here because I fo not know how he could have gotten it

I mean ... Xue Yang had half of it right? So ... is it this piece?

HE PLANNED THE WHOLE THING ALREADY BACK THEN??? 😱

Or ... not the whole thing? I feel I'll have to watch the show again just to discover what Jin Guangyao even knew and when 🙈

The way jgy looks at Xichen, there us real affection and regret in his gaze :(

Still I did not see THIS coming

He does care for Xichen, doesn't he? Who always saw the best in him. Never once treated him as below him for who his mother was.

But I dont think lan Xichen will give him a second chance right now, tbh. Just from the way he acted, he looked like his trust was irreparably shattered 😥

Meanwhile...

Wwx is tired of your monologueing :D

I apologise for the weird mix of stream-of-cosciousness musings and half-formed meta musings 😅

Also all the typos ...

(And who sent the letter and hit the body??? 😭)

@sweetlittlevampire @fandom-glazed @elenirlachlagos @allhailthedramallama @luckymoony @kyrrahbird @i-love-him-on-purpose

Tomorrow I'll watch the jast two episodes and ... I can't quite believe it 😔

I'm just happy that I'm reading the book now and still got so much to look forward to there, otherwise I think l might draw out this show even longer

#the untamed #sophie watches the untamed #wei wuxian #wwx #lan wangji #wangxian #lan xichen #jin guangyao #jin ling #jiang cheng #nie huaisang

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hypexion · 3 years

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Can You Hear Me? is an episode about fears, but it’s not a scary episode. It’s more of an episode where events happen, and we learn more about the characters.

This post comes with a content warning for discussion of suicide and depression, due to the nature of one the scenes in the episode.

So it’s time for the obligatory spooky episode of the series, except in the end Can You Hear Me? is only scary for the characters. Zellim is a bit unnerving while he’s slinking around in the dark and popping off his fingers, but he’s also basically a guy who is slightly weird. And while the monsters stalking Tahira in 1380 Aleppo have potential, the episode immediately breaks the important rule of “don’t show the monster“ and so the “Chagaskas“ are immediately reduced to being generic monsters. Alas.

Can You Hear Me? aslo does the whole thing where the Doctor goes “oh no it’s the legendary guy“, except this is the first ever mention of the legendary guy Zellim. It’s one of those things that never really works, since if the audience doesn’t know who your legendary guy is, they don’t know how to react. As villains go, Zellim is at least smart, and manages to bamboozle the Doctor into freeing his buddy, who’s never used onscreen name is Rakaya. It turns out that both of them are totally evil, and Rakaya even summons some fancy exposition to explain how badly the Doctor screwed up. It’s a bit like The Pandorica Opens, except with the Doctor’s Doctorness actually being used against her instead of there being a weird reversal. Sadly, for all their spookiness, Zellim and Rakaya are defeated incredibly quickly. They don’t even do anything after Rakaya escapes other than walk along a road and bother some people.

While the villians might end up being a letdown, Can You Hear Me? does have some interesting scenes in the form of the various nightmares the characters experience. Minus the Doctor, who’s slot is wasted on pointless arc stuff. It’s not like she’s suffered from any major traumatic events recently, like discovering a new forbidden Doctor or having her home destroyed again. Truly the worst thing for the Doctor is a child standing on a rock. Not all the companions she thinks she let down, or the time she spent a few billion years punching through a wall. However, even if the Doctor’s segment is a let down, the rest of Team TARDIS actually has stuff happening.

Graham’s nightmare the most straightfoward and obvious of the bunch. He’s worried about his cancer returning. He still feels guilty about Grace’s death. It’s simple, but it works, because these are the sort of things people will worry about. While Graham might have found some sort of closure, he’s still effected by these things, especially given how they are connected. The only problem is how this is handled in the denouncement - where the Doctor suddenly forgets to be ceaselessly optimistic and just sort of... ejects herself from the conversation. It’s just so grimacingly awful. The Doctor understands loss, and even if Time Lords don’t get cancer, she could still try to mumble out something vaugely positive in Graham’s direction rather than do what she actually did. I’d even say it’s a little out of character, because my take is that Thirteen has a pretty strong aversion to confronting her own inner negativity, to the point where she forces herself to be overty positive whenever possible.

Ryan’s nightmarescape is a tad more estoric, and deals with both his fear of the future, and his guilt at missing his friend’s lives. Dream Tibo is quick to accuss Ryan of not being around, even as the world ended. I think this scene is actually a little more subtle than it first appears, once you factor in Ryan’s relationship with his father. While the future of Orphan 55 is certainly a factor, it’s worth considering that Ryan’s true fear is betraying his friends in the same way he felt like his father betrayed him.

The scenes most open to interpretation, however, are Yaz’s. While the others are fairly direct in showing the character’s fears, Yaz’s doesn’t provide information in that way. Similarly, while Ryan and Graham talk about their visions, the extra context for Yaz comes in the form of an almost equally cryptic flashback. Using information from other episodes, it’s possible to work out that Yaz ran away from home due to bullying and other harassment, and is almost certainly suffering from some kind of depression, given her general attitude in the flashback. And given the context, it’s quite possible that she was not only depressed, but also suicidal. Yaz is in the middle of nowhere, doesn’t seem to have taken many possessions with her, and simple wants to go “away“. The Sonya in the dream tells her to “Do it right this time“ - and notably, uses “you run“ as a justification. To me, this implies that running away isn’t what Yaz should be “doing right“, but something else.

This provides a signifigant new context for Yaz’s entire character and her actions. Her tendency to try to empathize with various side-characters isn’t just a product of general community-mindedness, but comes from knowing exactly what it means to be alone. Whether it’s a outcast in Stuart England, a blind girl in modern Norway, or a millenia-old Time Lord, Yaz isn’t just trying to be generically friendly - she’s trying to intervene before they end up where she was. It also gives some insight into why the Doctor is “the best person [she’s] ever met“ - the Doctor’s entire thing is to show up and beeline to the nearest person in need of help. And it will explain Yaz’s actions in Resolution, where she refuses to give up on the Doctor.

Overall, Can You Hear Me? is a bit weird. The main plot ends up going a bit all over the place, and it just sort of stops. But there’s also some interesting scenes in here for the companions, which I think are deeper than a lot of people give them credit for. There isn’t quite a consistent quality over the course of the episode, but it does end up on the decent side of things, at least.

#doctor who #Thirteenth Doctor #can you hear me?#doctor who rewatch

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thatssokatsuki · 4 years

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Monster || Hitoshi Shinso x Reader

Pairing: Hitoshi Shinso x Reader Song: Dodie Clark - Monster Summary: You’re a simple transfer student who sees more in the quiet class outcast than meets the eye Warnings: fluff, mostly Word Count: 2,537 A/N: If you’re on mobile, I’m so so so sorry, not all of the formatting is crossing over ㅠㅠ

Tell me again about how it hurts Being awfully loud for an introvert Get out of my room, smile wiped clean Isn't it weird to be so mean?

His entire life, Shinso had to deal with people making crude comments and overall bullying him over his quirk. Yeah, sure, it wasn’t a physical quirk like say Almights or Mt. Lady,, it was more mental. Well, to be specific, he could brainwash people when he wanted as long as they spoke to him. For this, well, everyone thought he would make a good villian and nobody would let that go for years. Even when he got into the school of his dreams (albeit into general studies because his quirk doesn’t work against robots for obvious reasons), it never let up. There were a handful who didn’t treat him like some kind of monster, but even so he was usually met with distrust which understandably got on his nerves quite a bit. He pretty much got tired of it real fast, and that was very evident in his face, as he hardly ever smiled and his exhaustion showed very clearly in his eyes.

I'm guessing that I've grown horns I guess I'm human no more I can tell I've rotted in your brain

A few months into the school year, you transferred into his class, also having a quirk that didn’t really help much in combat. Not too long after walking into your class, you noticed a tired looking, but cute, boy in the back of the room sitting away from everyone, or rather, it seemed they were sitting away from him. He seemed disinterested in you and your other classmates, and even went as far as to yawn as you introduced yourself to the class. There were a few other empty seats around the classroom, but it would seem you surprised him when you decided to take the empty seat next to him. A brief look of confusion crossed his face, but he quickly shrugged it off, assuming you handn’t heard about him and his quirk yet. However that would quickly change. Just as you were getting up to go to lunch, and hopefully sit with him, one of your classmates noticed what you were going to do and tried to stop you. They had said that he was almost destined to become a villain, and that he had a brainwashing quirk. He happened to overhear this and ended up assuming that you would be no different than anyone else he had ever met. He assumed that you would think he was a monster.

Oh, how easily passion twists You think I'm a crazy bitch I craft my words to fit your head 'Cause no one listens to the dead

You ended up shrugging off your classmate, mumbling a mere “His quirk doesn’t make him a villain in the making”, although no one seemed to hear you. Your classmate threw their hands up and said “Hey, just thought I’d warn you before you speak to him”, and walked away. You jogged up to him and decided to go for a friendly greeting, but he cuts you off, saying that hes not interested in hearing your opinion about him or his quirk. This leaves you standing there, shocked, as he continues his pace to the cafeteria. He honestly felt a bit bad after the fact, because you seemed genuinely nice,, but hes seen enough “genuinely nice” people that he doesn’t wanna take anymore risks. Hell, its not like anyone up to this point wanted to be in his presence.

So maybe I will talk to you The only way I know how to Mhm, I've said my speech Mhm, through sharpened teeth You break the rules and spikes grow from your skin Please let the devil in

Despite your recent interaction with him, you ended up sitting at the same table as him, figuring it was better than sitting by yourself amongst people you dont know. A lunch alone and silent had seemed like the better option than having to listen to a conversation you had no interest in. He looked down the table and noticed you seeming deep in thought, quietly poking at your food. He looked around and took note of the empty seats at all the other tables, and how even after your last conversation, you chose to sit at the same table as him anyways. “Hey! y/n, right? Look, I’m sorry about earlier..” He said, shifting in his seat. You simply looked up at him and shrugged, smiling slightly. He took your lack of words in a response as you taking what the other students said as truth. So he looked back at his own food in silence, not expecting your eventual response. “...Actually, I understand. You probably overheard what they said.. It wasn’t cool of them though, and I can’t even begin to fathom what it must be like to deal with that..” You had said softly, but loud enough for him to hear. He looked back up at you, a little surprised, but you haven’t looked up away from your food it would seem. “Yeah, its rough, but its been this way for a while so I’m used to it.” He had stated. This time you looked him in the eyes, sadness adorning your own. “You shouldn’t be, though.. Used to it, I mean. Your quirk is honestly really cool, and I think it’d make you a really awesome superhero.” You finally saw the smallest of smiles creep onto his face, causing you to smile back at him in return.

A meter apart, we blankly stare We shout in our heads, "Are you still in there?" Well, this ends bad then, we knew it would So we won't eat our words, 'cause they don't taste good

A few more months pass, and you and Shinso have become practically inseparable.You both got some odd looks here and there, but nothing you couldn’t handle. You wouldn’t trade your best friend for the world, and overtime you felt yourself wanting to be more with him. He was quiet and a bit cold, yeah, but with you he was sweet and charming and warm. You knew he would never use his quirk on you to hurt you, and you wouldn’t do the same to him. Although your newfound feelings caused for some awkward moments, but thats mostly because he didn’t know how you felt. He honestly wanted to know why that happened, but he knew forcing it out of you would only break the trust you both shared, although he would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried you would finally listen to your classmates.

I'm guessing that I've grown horns I guess I'm human no more I can tell I've rotted in your brain Oh, how easily passion twists You think I'm a crazy bitch A thousand words are left unsaid 'Cause no one listens to the dead

A few more months pass, and to his relief, you two are still as thick as thieves. Whenever someone would bully him, you (in your slowly growing confidence) would stand up for him, and if anyone bullied you, he had your back and stood up for you. Along the way, you had befriended some of the kids from class 1-A,, Deku, Ochaco, Jiro, Tsu, and Tokoyami to be exact. Although it was during that time you really shined in his eyes, and he realized that he started liking you as more than just a friend. It was hard for him, at first, dealing with his crush on you. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, or think hes changed. You mean too much to him for him to lose you over feelings he didn’t realize he had. None of your other friends knew either, as you were his only confidant, so that made dealing with these feelings a bit harder. However, unbeknownst to you and Shinso, Jiro and Ochaco managed to connect the dots pretty quickly, which then hatched into the matchmaking plan of the century, or at least, for your friendgroup. The plan wasn’t to elaborate, it was mostly just to catch you both talking to eachother standing towards eachother, and they’ll both just accidentally bump you into him, so he’ll have to catch you and you’ll have to hug for the first time. The others didn’t really like the idea, but they couldn’t think of anything better, so they went through with the plan the very next chance they had.

So maybe I will talk to you The only way I know how to Mhm, I've said my speech Mhm, through sharpened teeth You break the rules and spikes grow from your skin Oh, I think it might be worth a try

The very next day, you and Shinso are standing outside of school having a brief chat while you wait for your other friends to catch up. It was a normal ritual for the group to go home together after school since the only other time everyone saw eachother was in passing or at lunch. Today, however, You happened to have had your back to the school doors, and Shinso was so invested in what you were rambling about that he didn’t even notice your small group of friends making their way towards you. Just a moment later you let out a yelp of shock as you went falling into your best friends arms causing you both to blush like crazy. Both Jiro and Ochaco apologized for their “clumsyness” and stated that they were just excited due to a good day at school and that they “couldn’t wait to tell you what happened”. You both laughed it off, although could hardly look at eachother without getting flustered after that. Especially you because in all this time, you had never noticed how strong shinso had gotten since the sports festival. The plan, as expected, didn’t go quite as your friends had hoped, but it did confirm to them that there were definitely feelings present. This time, as a group, they decided to just confront you both individually and hype you up so that you could confess to one another.

Oh, am I ready to let this die? Mhm, a monster's here Mhm, you plug your ears But hey, you might just listen to it sing Please let the devil in

Luckily for the group, you all had the next day off from school, it being a weekend and all. Jiro, Tsu, and Ochaco decided to go to your house, and they managed to talk Deku and Tokoyami into going to shinso’s for this plan. At first Shinso was a bit confused but decided to go along with it anyways. You seemed to cherish these friends, so what was the harm in getting to know them better? The next few hours ended up being quite the wild ride. When first confronted by both parties, your feelings were adamantly denied for the other, and then denial hit as there was no way your crush liked you back. The girls stated that he was never as interested in them as he was in you, and the guys stated that just because youre comfortable with them doesn’t mean you don’t look at them differently than the way you look at Shinso. Eventually, denial led to hope, and the “proof” led to a peptalk. Next thing you knew, you and shinso were planning on when to hang out, leaving out a key secret as to why you wanted to see eachother in the first place, leaving the other to think that you were just gonna hang out as friends, per usual.

We won't eat our words They don't taste so good

You dressed up a bit, as did he. You both wanted to look your best for the upcoming confession you both would be making to eachother. You knew Shinso didn’t really care for looks, but you did your best anyways, wanting to look nice for him anyways. He left a bit early to get a small bouquet of your favorite flowers. He figured that even if it didn’t go well, it would still be a nice gesture. Time flew by faster than you expected as you both got ready, and the next thing you knew you both were standing in front of eachother outside of the local small coffeeshop. You greeted eachother with small compliments, and Shinso brandished the flowers, handing them to you a bit abruptly. It caught you off guard, but the small thank you that escaped your lips and the dusting of red across your cheeks told him he made the right call. You both go in, and he tells you to just pick a table and that he would order. Having been friends for a while, he knew what you wanted, and you trusted him to not disappoint. A few minutes later, and a few shy glances later, he was sitting across from you, flowers on the table next to the window, favorite coffees in hand. You had looked around, trying to gain some confidence when he gently grabs your hands. This caught your attention, and caused you to forget what you were about to say. He looked down at your hands as he started to gently play with them across the table sweetly, and he mumbled a confession. “Look, y/n, the last few months have been amazing-” before he could finish his sentence , he looks up at you to see your shocked expression. He shifts awkwardly in his seat, unsure how to read the gaze you had set upon him, but he decides to continue anyways, this time looking into your eyes. “I, just.. ahh.. I really like you, y/n.I know you probably don’t feel the same, but I just had to tell you. I hope this doesn’t run anything between us..” He states, and to his dismay you withdraw your hands, and take a sip of your drink, needing a moment to process what you just heard.

Look, we know that I've seen this before High and mighty, at the top of your list Adoring every move, now my rank is sinking But we're both guilty of black or white thinking And through my red eyes, you look pale All of your scars are looking more like scales Two ugly creatures, two sinister preachers Blind to the past, like a couple of monsters Just a couple of monsters

You blink a few times, and place your drink back down, reaching out for his hands again, missing the feeling of his hands against yours. You look back up at him, giving him a small smile as he looks at you expectantly, “Thats actually why I wanted to see you today.. Shinso, I really like you too. You mean the world to me.” He pauses for a brief moment, just like you did just a moment prior. “So...Does that mean we’re dating now?” you giggled to yourself over his question, “If I didn’t know better, I would assume this is our first date~” He chuckled and shrugged, leaning in onto the table, “How would you feel if it was?” “I would be most delighted~”

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #shinso x reader #bnha fic #bnha imagines #bnha fluff #mha fic #mha imagines #mha fluff #hitoshi shinso imagine #hitoshi shinso #hitoshi shinsou #shinsou hitoshi #bnha shinsou #mha shinsou

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vixensheart · 4 years

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How It Feels to Take a Fall

Running wasn’t something Ochako did often, really. Though there was something oddly therapeutic about the way her calves burned from the effort, how her chest heaved with each breath she took. It was grounding, in its own way. She appreciated that. Especially now, with her thoughts spinning as wildly as they were.

She thought of before. Of her matchmaking.

“The Chieftain has come forward requesting you as a match for the prince.”

Ochako stared at Kayama with wide eyes, fully expecting the woman to bust out laughing any moment now. She swivelled to gawk at her parents, who both wore matching, shocked expressions.

“Re-really?” she stammered. “Me?”

Kayama shifted, her furs rippling in the firelight. Her lips curved into a smirk and she chuckled, low and bemused. “Yes, you. You are Uraraka Ochako, yes?”

She nodded, dumbstruck.

The matchmaker laughed again. “Thought so. The Chieftain has been watching you for some time, it seems. You have a good head on your shoulders, and I agree that you would be a good match for the firecracker of a prince. The Chieftain is offering the finest furs, jewelry from her own personal collection, and a raised status for your family within the village. Should you accept, the Chieftain has requested an audience with you, at sunhigh tomorrow.”

Ochako staggered to a halt, collapsing against the trunk of the nearest tree. Her palms stung at the impact, and she breathed ragged, trembling all over.

A match with the prince.

Her.

She pressed her forehead into the rough bark, sucking in a breath. Of all the matches possible, of all the men in the village, this was the least she expected. Sure, Ochako knew she was a quality match; her mother had raised her with care, after all. She knew how to skin rabbits, deer, how to pluck a quail. She knew herbal remedies, how to tan hides, scrub clothes in the creek. She was strong, too; able to carry a basket laden with fruits up and down the mountains. Her family was of respectable standing in the village, but they weren’t high class. They worked with their hands, worked to help provide their fair share.

Ochako expected, then, to be matched with someone reasonable. Someone of her class. Like, Kota. He was quiet, sure, but he was an excellent gatherer. Or perhaps Satou. They lived close together, their huts among the same cluster. Those options made sense.

To be paired with the prince...it was unexpected. It was the highest honour.

It was everything Ochako didn’t want.

She slid down to the ground, collapsing onto the gnarled roots of the tree. The rough bark scratched at her back, forcing her to feel through the numbness. Her gaze drifted into the underbrush, lost. There was a lump in her throat. Ochako swallowed, but it didn’t go away. She pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them tightly.

Matchmaking was a tradition as old as the dirt their village was built on. It had purpose. It kept their village healthy, helped it flourish. It shuffled dynamics, kept her people humble. Or, that was the idea, anyway. Things were never that simple.

Ochako was raised with this. She knew the day was coming, an ever looming presence on the horizon. Still, where once the matchmaking was an abstract concept, like the stars burning in the sky, now it was as real as the scrapes on her palms. Ochako sighed and hid her face. The worst part in all of this, was that she had no say in any of it.

Sure, theoretically she did. She could just go in and say no. The law allowed this. But their village? Their society? They did not. Saying no to a proposed match such as this was suicide. She would be shamed, her family, outcasted. Plus, to refuse the goods and riches that came from such a pairing was stupid. Her parents worked hard to raise her; they deserved the things she could give them.

So, she was doomed to marry the prince. The bombastic, loud, arrogant, asshole of a prince. Ochako grimaced. Okay, maybe that was too presumptuous of her. She didn’t actually know him all that well. It wasn’t like they hung out a lot, or anything. After all, he was the prince and she was well...herself. Lower tier berry picker.

Nothing special.

Ochako propped her chin on her knees and sighed. Well, soon she’d be the wife of the prince, she supposed.

Echoes of howls resounded through the trees. Huh. The hunting party must’ve been out. Ochako supposed that made sense; it was early dawn when she’d started her run. And she was further out into the forest than she usually trekked...

It’s then, mid musing, that it happened. A crash, sudden and loud, sounded from the branches above her. Ochako jerked her head up in time to see a solid shape tear through the forest canopy, bouncing off limbs in its descent to the forest floor. Whatever it was, landed in a heap, a few hundred paces away from her.

Oh, gods. What the…?

She was on her feet and creeping forward before she even registered what she was doing. Her breath lodged itself in her throat, and her heart hammered in her chest. Anxiety prickled at her skin, like pinpricks of needles. What...what if this was one of the monsters their warriors warned about?

It was common for monsters and dangerous beasts to roam the forests around their village. Their warriors spoke of them often; massive wolves with fangs thicker than a grown man’s wrist. Scaled serpents that smelled of death and decay. What if this, this...being was one of them, here to disembowel her and eat her heart?

Still, she crept closer. And gasped.

Ochako wasn’t sure exactly what she was looking at, other than it wasn’t a what, but a who. A boy, sprawled across the forest floor, with massive, feathered wings sprouting from his back. His feathers, black, with iridescent greens shining through in the low light, were in disarray. Dirt smeared his skin, and the smock he wore was battered and torn. A single arrow shaft stuck out from his right wing, the white fletching stark against the shadows of the forest. Ochako lowered to her knees, tilting her head as she peered down at the boy. Was he...alive? She gulped.

Only one way to find out.

Tentatively, Ochako reached out and brushed her fingers along the boy’s neck. She pressed down on his pulse point and bit her lip. There, ever so faintly, she felt the thump thump of his pulse, beating against her fingertips. The relief that rushed through her was dizzying. She wasn’t sure what to make of the feeling, really. Only, dead bodies falling from the sky were always a bad omen, perhaps.

Another chorus of howls rang through the trees, closer this time. Ochako felt her breath hitch. She cast a glance over her shoulder on instinct, peering into the shadows. There was no sign of movement, but the howls echoed louder and louder. Wait… Her gaze whipped to the unconscious boy sprawled before her, and the arrow sticking out of his wing. Were...were they looking for him?

But...why?

The howls drew closer. Ochako’s gaze darted about, and she bit her lip. She had no explanation for why she decided to stoop down, and hoist him over her shoulders. There was no logical reason Ochako staggered deeper into the forest, struggling to see around his massive, feathered wings. Yet she carried him as best she could through the underbrush, crossing the wide creek that cut through the forest floor and over a ridge, to a small overhang she knew was there.

Ochako only knew of this overhang because of one unfortunate incident, years ago, when she wandered away from her mother while gathering berries. This was quite a bit farther than their berry picking crew travelled into the woods, by a few leagues. Ochako hadn’t known that, of course. She was only a young girl at the time, and had been distracted by a beautiful, emerald butterfly. It fluttered this way and that, and she’d been so enamored by the graceful insect, that she hadn’t realized her mother was gone until she’d stepped into the chilly creek and soaked her boots.

Of course with her luck, it had started to rain at that moment, and Ochako had come to the decision to dart across the creek and run until she stumbled onto this overhang, where she waited out the storm. She’d gotten lucky; someone had the sense to bring the hunting dogs across the creek, just in case, and they’d picked up her scent.

She hoped they didn’t do that now.

With as much care as she could muster, Ochako lowered the boy to the ground beneath the overhang. Which admittedly, was hard to do, thanks to his wings. She didn’t want to hurt them worse than they already were. Or, at least, the one that was injured. The other wing seemed alright, but it was rather hard to tell. Regardless, she settled him on his stomach, taking care that his face wasn’t smothered, and stepped back, hands on her hips.

Well. Now what?

Ochako’s gaze flit back to the arrow sticking out of his wing, and she grimaced. Right, he was injured. He needed medical assistance. Ochako sucked in a breath. There was no way she could bring a strange winged boy back to her village, especially not one with one of their hunter’s arrows sticking out of him. So going to the village healer wasn’t an option.

Luckily for her unconscious patient, Ochako knew a thing or two about healing. She rolled up the sleeves to her smock, jaw set with determination.

Sometimes, Ochako dreamed of flying.

She wasn’t sure how. Her memory of her dreams was always hazy; sometimes, it was as though she sprouted wings and flew like a bird. Other times, she just lifted free of the earth and drifted, higher and higher, until she was floating amidst the stars. Ochako wasn’t sure what these dreams meant, other than that they came with such intense longing, a longing that pierced her heart, like an arrow. She spoke about it, once, to a friend.

“Do you ever have weird dreams?” she asked, pausing in her scrubbing. They were at the creek, washing their family’s clothes. Ashido straightened from her place on the rock beside her, her expression screwing into one of confusion.

“I mean, once I had a dream that I pooped acorns. That was weird.” She tilted her head and peered at Ochako, lips pursed. “Why?”

Ochako shrugged, lifting her garment out of the water and watching the droplets stream off the fabric. “Sometimes, I dream about floating up away from the ground. Up into the stars.”

Ashido barked out a laugh. “Wow, that’s weird. Dreams are wild.” She plunged her arms back into the water, her tongue poking out as she scrubbed. Ochako watched as her friend worked, focused. Her short-cropped hair bounced as she bobbed up and down, up and down. It was horribly mundane, and Ochako lowered her gaze to her hands and sighed. They were red and numb, from the chilly waters. She stared at her hands and chewed on her lip.

“Do you ever just...wish there was something more?” she said, suddenly. Ashido’s gaze was heavy as it rested on her.

“What do you mean?”

Ochako shrugged. She didn’t know. She just… Her stare drifted to the gurgling creek. Ochako had seen this creek so many times; she knew the way it winded, the sounds the water made as it lapped against the rocky shoreline. It was the same as it had been every day she made the trek to it, laundry basket balanced atop her shoulder. “I guess sometimes I just want to fly away from here,” she said. A low chuckle reverberated from her chest, and Ochako met Ashido’s questioning stare. “Crazy, right?”

Ashido snorted. “Yeah. You don’t have wings, silly.” Her friend wrung out the cloth she was scrubbing with a sigh. “Besides, soon enough we’ll be matched and married. Why would you want to fly away from that?”

Ochako didn’t have an answer for her then. She still didn’t, now, but sitting cross-legged in front of a crackling fire, staring at a boy with wings, she felt as though she was closer to the stars than she’d ever been.

A low groan had Ochako’s heart jumping in her chest. She watched, awed, as the boy shifted beside her. His massive wings rustled, and his face pinched into a wince. He blinked, once, twice, his glassy gaze coming quickly into focus. Ochako’s breath lodged itself firmly in her throat as she watched him rise, gaze scanning the space until it found her. There was a beat where they merely stared.

Ochako couldn’t breathe properly. She was lost, buried amidst the ever changing greenery of his gaze. So many emotions blew through him in just one breathless moment; a breeze of relief, the deafening silence of terror, the golden light of awe. Ochako witnessed it all. A sigh shuddered past her lips, and she managed a wobbly smile. “Hi.”

The boy flinched, brows furrowing. His expressive eyes narrowed, uncertainty crackling there. “Um,” he said, voice hoarse.

“My name’s Ochako, Ochako Uraraka,” she said. “Sorry for freaking you out and all, but you sorta...fell from the sky? And you’re hurt...I took the arrow out but I don’t think you’ll be flying for awhile. I patched it up, best I could, but um. Yeah.” She paused, rubbing at the back of her neck, face heating. Wow, she really just rambled like a dunce, didn’t she? She bit her lip, staring intently at the fire as it crackled, and seriously contemplated just sticking her head into the flames.

“...thank you.”

It was quiet, a wisp of a phrase, nearly lost to the popping of the fire. Ochako whipped her head up so fast she felt almost dizzy. He sat, curled practically in a ball, gaze fixed firmly on his scraped and muddy knees. His left wing was folded tightly to his back, his right extended and dragging at the dirt floor. Ochako smiled. “Of course,” she murmured. “How is your wing feeling?”

What a question to ask. The boy fidgeted in place. His gaze darted to her, and that was when Ochako noticed the dusting of freckles across his cheeks and nose. She bit her lip, hard. Cute, she thought.

“I-it-it’s sore,” he murmured. “B-but thanks.” There was a beat. Then, “I-Izuku.”

Ochako blinked. “Eh?”

The boy blushed, ducking to hide behind his knees. “My-my name,” he stammered, and Ochako could have sworn he was blushing. Maybe it was just the light of the fire, playing tricks on her.

“Call me Izuku.”

At that, Ochako’s breath hitched. The boy, Izuku, gazed at her with such intensity, Ochako swore she could see stars dancing there in his eyes. She found herself drawing closer, her heart beating in her chest. “Izuku,” she breathed, the name rolling off her tongue.

For the first time, Izuku smiled.

FIN

#izuocha #bnha #my hero academia #izuocha week 2020 #day two #injury #my writing #adventures in writing

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ravens-shadows · 4 years

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I guess I’m updating my rant on Tom Riddle to an actual essay so be patient with me

I don’t even remember what I wrote last time lol but I wanted to do my full analysis now that I’m not in rage if that makes sense.

Let’s go by parts.

First, his parents.

So we are given Merope Gaunt and Tom Riddle Sr., and they tell us this woman just straight up drugged her crush and then expected him to stick around and love her? Like, she literally raped him. I can’t fucking blame him for just going back home and abandoning her, because that would be so traumatising. And what angers me the most about this, is that Rowling makes it seem like he was the bad guy because he ‘abandoned’ them. But all my issues with Rowling will have to wait for another day.

When Tom is born, he is raised in the orphanage, and it’s stated early on that he ‘does not have emotions’, and is ‘naturally evil’. But the thing is, was he really incapable of love just because he was conceived under the influence of amortentia? If he really had no love inside of him, by basic logic he wouldn’t have any other emotions, because is utterly ridiculous even by the standards of a magical world. In other words: he was capable of loving as much as any other child, the thing is, he wasn’t given the opportunity to learn how to love, which is precisely the whole basis of his character!

Growing up, he was looked down as the weird, abnormal kid, bullied both by the other kids in the orphanage and the adults too. And what the fuck are you supposed to do in the situation? There was no one to really explain how wrong the actions of those around him were, and kids absorb everything like sponges. In his eyes, their behaviour was normal, and therefore the way to avoid getting hurt was hurting them even worse. And let’s entertain for a moment the idea that love is the only emotion he didn’t have, which yet again, is portrayed ridiculously! Love had nothing to do with the situation he lived in. He could still felt fear and anger, and even guilt, but we were never showed that because, oh no, he’s the villain and he’s absolutely evil.

Dumbledore walks in. This. Fucking. Bitch.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, who could have ended the war before Harry even started Hogwarts but didn’t because a stupid prophecy said so.

Dumbledore takes a look at this kid, after hearing a very biased opinion on him, and in that second he decides that this child is too far gone and can’t help him. And, of course, Tom is not stupid and he can see that Dumbledore doesn’t like him and he obviously will avoid him from now on and in consequence won’t trust any other adult.

And here is the worst part: even in a world where his magic isn’t rare, no one cares. The adults give a fuck about him, they never offer help. They know about the abuse he’s suffered for years and are doing nothing about it, so he starts making himself stronger. If only he was stronger, no one would hurt him again.

Then we get to the worst fuck up Rowling did with this wonderful character, because why, why in friggin hell, would he be afraid of death?

It doesn’t make sense, it doesn’t add up to everything that’s been building up in the background. He is sixteen at this point, asking about horrocruxes so obviously he is already looking for ways of staying alive, but it doesn’t make any sense! Sure, if he was an adult it would make more sense, but in this point in time there is absolutely no reason whatsoever for this ridiculous thing to pop up.

It doesn’t make sense that he wants to kill his father because he abandoned him, he would be angry and bitter but Tom is smart and being sane at this point would know that there is absolutely no point in doing it. It doesn’t make sense that he is afraid of an abstract construct that he probably doesn’t understand completely like any other teenager. It doesn’t make sense that he has plans of becoming a dark Lord at all, because in this point in time, he is in the middle of the war with Grindelwald, a war that started before he was even born, and wouldn’t finish until he was nineteen years old in 1945. Nothing makes sense (but hey, what can I expect from J.K. Rowling).

Anyway, let’s get going. Let’s imagine this makes sense despite being absolute shit, and he makes his horrocruxes.

Is should be widely known that he was fucking insane at this point. An horrocrux splits the soul in two, so he would have just have half of his soul before making the second one and so on.

From here on, his actions make more sense because he is not human anymore by any means, and he is completely bonkers, let’s face it. Mass homicide was expected to happen.

Now let me tell you why he is one of the best characters despite the author butchering him. Important to note that most people look to Harry as a survivor of abuse and I’m a 100% on board with it, but let’s not pretend their situations are in the same level.

Proof 1: Tom is an abuse survivor too, and in many ways I think it was possible he would have been killed if it wasn’t for his magic, a magic he knew he had and used. In other circumstances, he would have ended up in a similar situation to Credence. His actions are seen to be evil, but the main point of his whole character and this is stated, is that he acts in anger, pain and fear. He is afraid. And in the correct way of telling his story, his fear is justified. He is afraid because despite being ‘special’, people still cast him out. His fear is not the fear of death that was sold to us, is the fear that no one will ever feel the slightest empathy for him, that no one will ever understand how it feels like. His pain comes from being treated like a monster, by not receiving any kindness in his whole life, because even after Hogwarts he had no friends, just followers fascinated by his natural power and talent.

Proof 2: Tom’s ‘inability to love’ is simply the fact that he does not know what is love. How could he? He’s never been shown what it is. And later on, mental disorders can be developed, specially in cases like this, when the child eventually starts rejecting any kind of affection (a condition that doesn’t have a cure). The way this whole thing comes down would have made an even better character, and he wouldn’t even be the villain. I wholeheartedly believe that if he had been written correctly, there would have been a real villain, Dumbledore (not to say he is evil, but you don’t have to be evil to be a villain), and Tom would have been more of an antagonist. This may have given the opportunity to have a special interaction between him and Harry when he realises this teenager isn’t that much different than him. And Harry could have found too someone who understands how it feels to be a freak. This two have the potential of a great relationship that doesn’t necessarily have to be on good terms, but they would have naturally developed mutual respect by still being able to dislike each other and it would have been more logical, more natural.

Proof 3: Tom is, in reality, a good person. He is a little bit of a sociopath, as a matter of fact, but he is often described as quite a genius (?) child. He is smart, brilliant, and clever. If we ignore the nonsense of dark lords and horrocruxes, Tom would have fought to change the magical world for all those who are outcasts like him. While the ministry has laws against magical creatures, Voldemort is constantly making alliances with them, not only because is convenient, but because he genuinely does not care what they are. His hatred for muggles is exaggerated but understandable, but if he truly believed in wizards supremacy, he would not trust nor ally himself with werewolves, giants, etc. Tom is so brilliant that, even when Dumbledore suspected him when young, he got away with the things he wanted because he was so careful as to not leave any evidence of his plans, until it was too late. Once having this redirected, he could have perfectly fit in politics or similar places. He is charming and can easily make people do his bidding. He would have used this to get justice. Maybe not in the most peaceful way, but his intentions wouldn’t have been bad.

Of course, much of what I’ve said can be biased but I’m not here to be totally fair, I’m here to proclaim my love and devotion for what Tom Riddle could have been.

There is so much to this single character that deserves his own series of books because there is a lot of wasted potential. Harry and Tom are such parallels and yet, their whole dinamic was simple and vague, with good points but had as much significance as it would have been with any other protagonist with a totally different backstory.

Tom Riddle is this traumatised yet strong character, even if he isn’t good, but... cartoonish villains I guess.

Thanks to coming to my ted talk... if you managed to go through the whole thing.

English is not my first language, sorry for all my fuck ups

[Shameless side note: I do have a fanfic where Tom is the chosen one, and it’s not very good because I suck at everything but if you wanna check it out is here]

#tom riddle #harry potter #albus percival wulfric brian dumbledore #tom is great and deserves better #jk rowling #i hate this woman so much #grindelwald too i guess?#gellert grindelwald #merope gaunt #i should stop adding tags now

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shiftingpath · 3 years

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To My Exalted Secret Santa

A Solar, a Lunar, and a Dragon-Blood behind the cut:

1) Ledaal Manus, the Hand of Towersong, Twilight Caste Solar

Manus is a beautiful, delicate-looking young man, impossibly young for his position controlling the Clockwork Empire, a Solar kingdom stretching across the North. Manus is dedicated to being whatever his Circle needs; scholar, spy, tactician, diplomat, prophet, but his real skill is in management, changing the flow of entire economies with the flick of his brush. The enemies of Towersong are beginning to consider Manus the most dangerous of his Circle for his subtlety, adaptability, and ruthlessness.

Manus is of average height, slim and pretty. His skin is pale and his hair white, kept in a short ponytail or braid just a bit longer than his shoulders. He wears oval-shaped spectacles, and his remaining natural eye is ice blue. The other one is glass set with aquamarine in the shape of a broken hourglass. Occasionally when trying to appear intentionally intimidating he'll wear an eyepatch, but he is very vain about his appearance and prefers to come off flawlessly pretty.

His upbringing as a Dynast is no longer very evident in his fashion sense, which leans more towards the (Viking) style of nearby Karn, but he does still like the high collars. Manus tries never to show more skin than his face whenever possible. He loves purple and charcoal, and wears gold to match his Queen. In addition to his northern adventurer look, he loves jewellery and always wears a gold circlet on his brow and a gear ring nailed through his finger, as well as plenty of other necklaces and rings that he changes out as the mood suits. Though they're usually hidden, he also has a brand around his bicep of a chain sealed with a crown, and a bioluminescent tattoo around one wrist that looks like a glowing blue string of beads.

His beloved sword Silver Riddle is a long thin moonsilver daiklave, with tiny starmetal strands etched up the blade. He used to wear his hair in a signature long white-blue braid to his knees, but when Ligier cut it off Manus instead fixed it to his sword like a long tassel. His other common artifacts are a blue jade chain shirt and one of a pair of matched assassin's blades, his showing a brilliant orichalcum sun in a blue jade sky. He also wears a black jade badge with the mons of House Ledaal.

Manus is a Solar Circle sorcerer, absolutely chock full of weird magic, a hint of necromancy, and just a whole load of bizarre clock-themed eerieness. He is a prophet who can pull the stars from the sky, a sorcerer who can stop time and walk unseen through it, a warden of Towersong's memory able to strip entire experiences from the minds of the public if he deems it too secret or too horrific, an arcane link to Autochthon himself. If you make it clock-themed it is probably appropriate.

Manus is distant, cool, and very polite. In combat he is a noble defender, pleased to act as assistant to his Dawn Caste best friend. In diplomacy he is ambitious and shrewd, and will make allies of nearly anyone with his willingness to bargain and deal. In home life he is deeply respectful of his father and spouse, still trying to be the perfect Realm son and husband. The world perceives him as a spider sitting behind his desk, controlling the North, and in his dreams, he walks strange roads lit in blue-green, patrolling alone among the frozen, sleeping citizens of his home.

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2) The Ninth Hand, No Moon Octopus Lunar Ninth Hand is a vengeful sorcerer, eager to cut down the Realm and its monsters wherever they encounter it. They are a consummate shapeshifter, discarding forms with no sentimentality and rarely considering any shape "their own", having long since happily forgotten the details of the shape they were born to. However, over time they have refined their preferences, and when they appear "as themself" to another, the forms they invent for it will usually have some overlapping common traits.

In a "true" form, they usually appear very tall and slim, with long fingers. Their appearance of androgyny varies widely, though they often appear with a flat chest. Their skin is a deep black with underlying blue tones, covered with patterns of multicoloured dots rippling across their flesh at random, their subconscious octopus nature trying to camouflage them into the background. Their moonsilver tattoos appear like transluscent silver scarves, caught with stars, weaving in twirls and loops across their face and down their limbs. Several large hearthstones are set into their skin. In their forehead, an opal. Between their collarbones, a cloudy grey gem with a black swirl deep inside. On one arm, just below the shoulder, is a translucent grey stone and on the other, a translucent black one. The most important of these turns all water nearby them an inky black, and another causes tendrils of dark water to form out of their anima, able to pickpocket or open doors for them and so on.

They usually appear with a shaved or hairless head, though if they appear with hair, it's natural, strong and curly, styled into shaved-side mohawks of locs or beaded braids pulled back. Their eyes are usually either a eerie warm silver or a brown so dark as to appear black. When wanting to appear extra spooky they'll make their sclera black as well. They can shift their clothes as effortlessly as their body, so their disguises are easy and appropriate. When appearing as themself, they wear coils of long violet sashes swooped loosely around their chest and arms, and soft loose pants easy to move in. They wear a black cuff around each wrist, and a gold bracelet around one wrist and one ankle. They never wear shoes.

Their beastman form makes them even taller, with unusually long arms and fingers. They have four or six arms, and their Tell becomes much more pronounced, constant camouflaging patterns emerging and disappearing. They like to pose their extra arms in artistic, occult fashions while using one set as the “working pair”.

Ninth Hand carries one artifact, the Grasping Claw of the Nemesis, a sorcerer's staff appearing like a single long thin band of moonsilver twisted like a ribbon. It's topped with a sharp obsidian claw with three prongs, which when used to clutch at an arcane link to a person, makes it easier to cast spells of darkness and hatred upon them. Hand likes to use it primarily on other sorcerers, whom they regard with a jealous rage.

Ninth Hand is cool and distant by nature, and speaks in an oblique, formal way. They are a cunning planner, cautious and suspicious, sitting back and observing long before taking action. They have nothing but disdain and disgust for the rich and idle, especially Dynasts. However, they are relatively warm and protective of the working class, slaves and sex workers, and servants of all stripes, having come from a similar background and never forgetting the exhaustion and indignity of it. They are also fond of younger Lunars and are happy to lend them aid and advice in their personal goals, with no need for favours or payment. They are often found still as a statue, sitting cross-legged on the ground with a wide bowl on their lap full of burning herbs, witnessing visions of the future as they inhale the smoke.

Ninth Hand's favourite spells are Death of Obsidian Butterflies, Impenetrable Veil of Night, and Insidious Tendrils of Hate. Their anima appears like silver tentacles shifting in and out of view as if a cloud passed in front of them. Twisting tendrils are revealed, grasping exotic and glimmering gems sparkling with power.

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3) Ledaal Zyden, Fire Aspected Dragon-Blood Some of you may remember Zyden. This is a new Zyden! We relaunched his campaign from the ground up!

Zyden is a quietly troubled young man fresh out of the House of Bells, a gruelling experience that has left him bitter and disillusioned. His natural hunger to help and support others was nearly extinguished, and he still has long periods feeling like a guttering flame. He is friendly and open with nearly everyone, and his feeling like he should hear them out has led to him befriending mortal children, Lintha reavers, and even Anathema. At school he specialized in solo spear fighting, and his skill at it has let him outfight even Dragon-Bloods years older than him. He loves fighting, and knowing he's doing the right thing defending villages of mortals or ostracized outcastes gives him a heart and intensity he lacks in defending himself. His time travelling in the West has led to him picking up all sorts of skills unbecoming for a Dynastic Dragon-Blood; cooking, sailing, playing the tin whistle. He takes immense joy in them and truly loves cooking for others.

He has already been contacted by three Sidereals, curious to observe and guide him, for they believe that against all expectation and likelihood, he may be the inheritor of a grand and important destiny that would set him head and shoulders above his Dragon-Blooded kin in achievements. But destiny is a fickle thing, and they have not told him what it might involve. Zyden's fate has been cast in the air, and even Heaven doesn't yet know where it will land.

Zyden is quite tall, with pale skin that sunburns easily. His eyes are icy blue and his hair is white, flickering like flames. He is always warm to the touch, and water evaporates off him quickly. His "good clothes", as he thinks of them, are a grey silk shirt with a high collar, a pair of soft trousers similar to martial training gear, and a pair of boots with upturned toes. He has a lot of trouble forcing himself to do up his collar the entire way, and it's often open a button or two. The clothes he prefers to wear sailing alongside Coral crews are a loose white shirt and grey-blue trousers, going barefoot whenever possible. Around his waist he wears a blue and yellow sash he was given from a local in the Neck, and around his neck he wears a string with a large shark tooth. When he is most content, he'll sometimes tuck a tropical flower in his hair, which are almost always, coincidentally, blue.

He currently wields two artifacts- Saltspray Exorcist, a black jade guan dao famous in his family for its specialty against ghosts and the undead, and the Uniform of the Vigilant Watchman, a blue jade reinforced buff jacket. Exorcist is a tall spear with a long slashing head of black jade, a white silk tassel dangling from it. The haft is decorated with gold studs, with a gold cap on the end. His buff jacket is dark blue, with smooth plates of bright blue jade. It has a wide collar and is decorated with gold embroidery of a flaming sun emerging from dragon-scale clouds.

His anima is a brilliant-burning four-pointed star of white fire with a blue core.

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#exalted #exalted secret santa

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