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sedgewicke · 1 year

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Well. Reading the prologue to the fifth book sure is... A Thing when you've only read the first. Half of it doesn't even count as spoilers to me, it's pure word salad.

My main takeaway is that Sadeas would be fucking pissed if he knew Gavilar was keeping aaaaaaaaaallllllll thaaaaaat from him. And Merida is in on it? MERIDA!? No idea what he'd make of the secrets themselves, it's kind of a lot of a lot.

I am disappointed to know that Sadeas being with Gavilar that night meant nothing more than him hustling up like "Here, take my armor, I'm gonna go probably trying to save your life I hope you haven't been keeping any absurdly massive secrets from me bye!"

Not that I expected it to be revealed that they were banging on top of everybody's coats, but it's nice to have some empty spaces for the imagination to roll around in.

So, what's the deal with telling Dalinar not to drink (albeit in a weird, cryptic way), and then telling his guy to make sure he gets something to drink? Is it to test Dalinar's will? Is it just to fuck with him? Is it to redirect blame from Dalinar for choosing to get drunk that night and put it back on Gavilar? Because that would be on-Brando. (See: Dalinar having the gall to blame Sadeas for not doing enough, and this not being treated as an absolutely wretched thing to say.) As someone who's lived with an alcoholic for 15+ years: Fuck that. I ain't got that kind of patience for winos no more.

Everybody's pissed at Gavilar for how he treated Navani, but to be brutally honest? I don't care. You married a war criminal. What do you want? No, what I'm pissed about is how he must've treated Elhokar if that's what he thinks about him. No wonder that boy's got so many problems. I sure am glad Elhokar got to prove his dad wrong by becoming a Radiant and helping to save the wor--ohhhh. Yeeeaahhh. Fuck you, Sanderson.

EDIT: Because I should've known better than to not include a disclaimer re: my opinions on this fictional character's fictional life situation. I would have been sympathetic towards Navani, despite the fact that she made a blatantly terrible decision... but then ch 75 of TWoK happened and she pulled some real Scumbag Mom Tactics--and unlike Gavilar's Scumbag Dad Tactics, it's treated as NBD, nothing to see here--and so now? I don't care. And if you tell me I need to care? I will care less. Signed, a real life victim of emotional abuse--not that that matters, apparently.

I hope it's explained somewhere, at some point, how Gavilar got into any of this. Did he just up and start having visions like Dalinar, and one thing led to another? I don't know shit about any of these non-human entities pullin' strings and whatnot yet, but I feel like they probably have some stuff to answer for. They gotta know that humans do not do well with having mystical nonsense foisted upon them like that.

What's up with mentioning Aesudan like she's an old chum. We're talking Elhokar's wife, right? How old is she, that she'd be pallin' around with Gav and the Sadeases? Is she like Aesudan Jr. or something?

His family. In that moment, Gavilar saw his legacy crumbling. He was dying. Storms. He was dying. What was le to him? What did anything matter if he was dying. He couldn’t. He couldn’t... He was supposed to be eternal...

ngl, this got to me. Sure, he was a dumb bitch getting up to all kinds of dumb bitch shit, but I dunno, man, something about dying thoughts does stuff to me. Look, I hurt inside when I think about... Roshone's? shitty kid's death, and I don't even remember his name. No one can predict what'll get to me and what won't (probably what's not supposed to and what is, respectively), not even me.

I liked that there were little bips of humanity tucked in between all the red conspiracy string. Like "When was the last time I hung out with my friends? NO TIME! GODHOOD NOW! I think I used to like my wife? NO! RENEW THE APOCALYPSE TO SAVE THE WORLD OR SOMETHING!"

#the stormlight archive #book 5 spoilers #idiot who's only read WoK reads the book 5 prologue #for Sadeas content tbh #gavilar kholin #on no the cat got into my yarn stash #apocalypse renewed for another season #the opposite of cancelling the apocalypse #apocalypse gritty nostalgia-bait reboot #very clearly Gavilar apologism #*looks at the camera like it's the Office*

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just-a-new-gi-writer · 8 months

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"Creator Reforged" is (chef's kiss) concise and yet Exactly What It Says On The Tin lmao, big brain! Poor Sucrose in Ch7 tho: she must be traumatised too, for lack of better description.

Oh oh! May I send an ask for the Follower Special? How would the acolytes react to a creator who crochets/knits/sews them various clothes and accessories? I feel like Childe would appreciate (and definitely smugly show off) any scarves or coats you make him lmao??? Liyue has nobles and society stuff, so maybe when Ningguang or the other Qixing wear trinkets/shawls that the Creator made, there'd be similar clothes in fashion? Inazuma and Sumeru seem pretty big on textiles (Silk, Cotton, maybe Wool/Fur?) so would they be smug at their textiles being featured in some of the creator's works??

Also, just a last thing: your writing style ABSOLUTELY gives off shounen light novel vibes. It's honestly perfect for Genshin, imo.

Yeah, no one in that situation is really in their best mind at that point. Albedo, Sucrose, and the reader are all likely not thinking straight. (Hopefully going to get back to work on it soon...)

And thank you for the compliment! I'm honestly not all that familiar with shounen light novels, but I hope that the eldritch/weird moments that undergird party of my writing don't distract too hard.

A/N: Getting back on the wagon. ...And I let myself stray to an adjacent yet (in my opinion) equally interesting version of the Creator. Hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 2.7k

CW: None?

Masterpost

taglist @iyohme

The night in Liyue was young. Though the furthest edge of the sky still wore the faintest remnant of the day’s glory, the rest of the sky glammered with pearlescent stars, crowned with a nearly full moon, and bounded in the north where an azure comet tugged at the sky as it fell.

Far below these celestial sights, the opulent city of Liyue slumbered, nestled between its towering mountains and perched beside the tranquil sea. Uncountable lanterns burned quiet and low, illuminating the streets just enough so the guards could patrol yet low enough to allow the citizens to rest.

Though the thousand hands of the industrious city lay low, not all of the city was asleep. In the city’s main hall, where the highest matters of state and commerce were conducted by words and contracts, through coins and goods, by bribes and threats, different kinds of activity were taking place. Heads of states, merchants, nobles, and the like from nearby Sumeru, Inazuma, Fontaine, and a few from even further afield, met and socialized with each other. They forged and renewed acquaintanceships, sought new avenues of commerce and trade, discussed and reviewed new discoveries and theories.

The event there was in full swing. Chandeliers with ornate carvings in Cor Lapis diffused amber light across the whole room. People clustered around the room, conversations flowing as freely as the drinks. The front of the hall was dominated by a stained glass relief of the Creator, The Forge of Days. Though no light filtered in through the myriad colors, the veiled image of Her figure seemed to glow with its own glorious light.

Gathered at the front of the room were piles of gifts and offerings. In years past, they would have been iron and copper, silver and gold, crystals with shimmering hues and gems with an unfathomably deep color.

But recently, their Creator had undergone a change of hobbies. The hands of The Forge rarely sat idle, but the items She created would change with her interests. For months, Her hammer and tongs sat idle, Her billows quiet, and Her fires cold. She’d found a new craft to occupy Her hands for a while, and the people followed Her whims.

A different bounty had been gathered tonight at her feet: bolts of cloth in all kinds of dyes and textures, spools of thread in every color imaginable, skeins of yarn that seemed to glimmer with gold spun into their material. These, the people hoped, would gather Her attention and affection enough to be worthy of receiving a gift from Her in turn. Though She chafed at formalities and ceremonies, these She would bear to see Her creations given.

Tonight, there was no shortage of people gathered to show off the artifacts that She had personally forged, crafted, or spun and then given so generously. It was hard to miss the heads of state and important nobles- Ningguang was garbed with plenty of jewelry of gold and amber and topaz. Keqing kept at her side, displayed prominently, a sword forged of impossibly sharp steel and inlaid with awe-inspiring arrangements of Inazuman amethyst.

Few were arrayed so brilliantly as them, but one person stood taller and prouder than both. In the middle of a group of weary and exasperated onlookers, a peculiar Snezhnyy man bragged about and paraded off his new gift. Tartaglia was not much loved by the people of Liyue- connections to the Fatui tended to do that- but showing off the new turquoise scarf generously pooled around his shoulders, studded with constellations of pearl stars, strained the patience of most.

“Oh, what’s the matter, Afong?” Tartaglia chided a merchant who finally had enough of him and tried to leave, “Can’t stand the sight of someone who has one of Her new styles? What do you have, just a tarnished, old bracelet? I think She’d be embarrassed to see that old thing in public! It’s probably for the best that She tosses that dull thing back into the furnace and starts over from scratch.”

A small, timid voice came up behind him, “Tartaglia, isn’t that enough?” He spun on his heel to see who spoke up, the half-adeptus Ganyu. She was carrying a tray of food in her arms which clearly had a wide selection. “You’re going too far with what you’re saying.”

“Listen, Цилинь,” Childe plucked one of the morsels from her tray, something skewered on a wooden pick, “talk to me when Her Grace decides to visit you with something noteworthy. I can tell,” he gestured down to the arm he could see, “that She gave you some pity. I remember hearing about that meager ring She made, Her last product before turning her sights to Her new craft.” He eyed the ring set with an aquamarine gem, then slid his gaze to what sat on her wrist. “But I didn’t hear about that.”

A dainty, delicate work of lace lay barely hidden under her sleeve, like a fine layer of ice had been worked around her wrist. While many would merely overlook it, it contained many curious details the likes of which would only be seen with Her handiwork- notably, the centerpiece of it was a recreation of Ganyu’s vision- frame, cryo symbol, even the subtle cracks and chips were represented through Her handiwork.

“The Forge of Days generously gifted it to me.”

“An early work of hers, probably. Most likely, she made it to familiarize herself with the craft, getting the early failures out of her system.”

“Did Her Diligence make a single weapon for you?”

There was a momentary flash of anger on his face- the first anyone had seen that night. It was quickly gone, but Ganyu had turned and left before she could notice. She heard another conversation haltingly spin up as she walked away, before fading into the noises of the party.

Ganyu left the party, following a familiar path of hallways as the sounds behind her began to become muddled and indistinct under the weight of their echoes. She turned a few corners, passing various shrines placed to honor and venerate the Adepti, mostly, but also the other benevolent beings who shared the region with the city and who helped guide its people in the past. Designed to impress and show off Liyue’s splendor like the main hall, there was little expense spared for these collections as well.

She slowed, then came to a stop. She was nearly on the other side of the building from the main hall, and her surroundings looked like it. This space was dominated by a large door formed of wood and metal, something that looked more at home in the industrial sections of the city, not here among the shrines. The walls and floor here were dirty- darkened soot seemed to almost grow on any available surface and the air was thick with the smell of earth and fire.

To a place built to celebrate the divine and the supernatural beasts that crowned this corner of the earth, this seemed wildly out of place. But Ganyu, among other important people in Liyue’s governing bodies, knew the truth of this location.

Ganyu balanced her tray on one hand and reached out to one of the enormous door handles. It took a bit of force, but the doors began gliding open, ethereally and unearthly quiet. She passed through the doors and began descending the stairs below, each one decorated with a different pattern of golden crystals that glowed in a circle around anyone walking down them. To Ganyu, it looked like the steps were being cast from the darkness just steps ahead of her as she descended. As she reached the bottom of the staircase, she heard the doors behind her gently close by themselves, a soft but unmistakable noise through the space she just entered.

And what a space it was.

Lit by larger clusters embedded in the walls, not too dissimilar to those on the stairs, the room was a crafter’s dream. Uncountable machines of industry filled the space, of every type and make, most repaired by hand after their user damaged them from overuse or overapplication of force. They were distributed about the room by trade- over there sat the forge, its bellows quiet and the stockpiles of coal, iron, silver, gold, and countless other metals full and ready; there rested every tool one needed to hew art and purpose from any stock of lumber one chose; there rested

And through the middle of it all, and under the low dais in the center, ran a stream, to quench and cool the products of the forge, to supply the (currently disengaged) mechanisms with power.

And sitting there on that dais, bathed in light from a ring of crystals suspended over Her head, surrounded by an impressive array of tools and stock of materials all at Her fingertips, the Creator moved with impressive speed. Her hands flew from one movement to the next, a blindingly fast dance between Her fingers, the tools, and the dress that She was weaving on the mannequin in front of Her.

Ganyu set the tray down on a nearby table that wasn’t totally overrun with supplies and materials, pushing a few bolts of cloth out of the way. She carefully stepped through a field of bobbins, careful not to upset or step on any. As she approached the Creator, she wondered if She had actually noticed her. “Pardon?” She tried to get Her attention, stretching a hand out to Her shoulder. “Burning Forge–?”

The Forge of Days suddenly snapped out of the way, Her head whirling around to glare at Ganyu, Her eyes burning a brilliant yellow-white from the focus on Her activity. Her glare was uncomforting on the best of days, but when She wielded it like this, Ganyu could almost feel the heat of the forge pouring on, through, and around her. She could feel some of her hair begin to singe.

Ganyu took a step back, covering her face. “M-My apologies! Ningguang only wanted me to check on You!” The heat began to bleed away from her, quickly dropping to a simmering heat. When Ganyu risked a glance, she found Her back at Her craft, continuing to weave like She hadn’t been interrupted. “I wanted to check in on you as well. I know it’s quiet down here, and I know you don’t like crowds–”

Her Industriousness made a noise of frustration as she pulled the last of the yarn taut. She spun in place, planting the hook in the dress, then grabbed a plain knife and walking (at a speed that should have been called running) over to a spinning wheel. She began gathering up Her hair in large handfuls, then cutting them off with quick, clean cuts of the knife.

As quickly as She had turned away from Ganyu, the heat had faded away; only the memory of the warmth remained. Ganyu winced to see Her shear so much of Her hair off so carelessly, but she knew there was a method behind Her actions. As She stopped in front of the spinning wheel, She set the knife aside and began turning the spinning wheel, arcs of magical light started being cast from it as it spun faster and faster. When the arcs began to connect into circles, She fed Her hairs into it one at a time, and began winding the resulting golden thread around an empty bobbin.

Ganyu took the moment to look the dress over now that the Weaver of Fates was away from it. The beautiful garment looked like it was painstakingly constructed- the various materials made it look like it was spun from the condensed light that shimmered over Liyue harbor every morning, the angles and sections of construction chosen to mesh with each other so seamlessly. With how She had woven it all together, it felt like the dress was creating itself, like it was destined to simply be.

Thinking back to the excruciating minutiae of measurements that She had made of her body (after she found the demand from her Creator carved on a slab of iron which was unceremoniously deposited on her working desk…), part of her hoped that it would turn out this beautiful.

As she looked back at the spinning wheel, she caught The Forge feeding the last of her liberated hairs into the wheel and loading the last of the thread onto an overloaded bobbin. She snapped it up in one hand and turned back to the mannequin to continue her work.

It was now or never. Her Industriousness hated being interrupted.

“Your Grace?” Ganyu started speaking before She could set down the bobbin. “I was just thinking about you. I know you don’t like social events, and they’d prepared so much for the party- I thought you’d appreciate me bringing you a sample of what they had.” Ganyu began talking faster as she started threading the needle. “I-I made sure to grab some of your favorites as well, and I wanted to…”

She eventually stopped herself. If Her Unending Warmth wasn’t interested in something, it was basically guaranteed to be a futile struggle to get Her to cooperate. None in all Teyvat could match Her strength and endurance, let alone Her abject stubbornness.

Ganyu turned to leave. “I… I should go. I should see if they need me upstairs again. I’ll–” She barely took a few steps before suddenly being stopped. Turning around, she saw that the Creator had lunged towards her to grab on to her, Her incredibly strong and calloused grip, able to crush stone and deform iron, gently but firmly wrapped around her arm.

She looked up and saw The Forge’s face, one that was so used to its grim and steadfast glare that its current one, creased with worry, almost looked unfamiliar. The light in Her eyes was still bright, but had cooled to an orange glow.

“…Stay.”

The single word croaked from Her throat, gravely and unclear from disuse. It was incredibly rare for Her to speak- it was said that lifetimes could come and go without her making so much as a single utterance.

“–! …Alright, I’ll stay here with you.”

Her Grace let go of her breath and the room seemed to warm. She released Her grip on Ganyu, who slipped off to find two chairs that could easily be decluttered and dragged over to the table.

“…For all the work Your Industriousness does, I’m surprised You don’t do more to keep things tidy down here.” She moved an armful of cloth up onto a table, where it likely would be a hazard later on. “But I’m sure no one complains because they just like it when You make things on time.” She struggled to maneuver herself and the chairs around all the other clutter, but Her Grace managed to move through it with surprising, well, grace.

“There.” Ganyu set the two chairs down and it wasn’t long after She sat that She popped the lid off the tray and grabbed two different treats, offering the smaller one to her. She gave Her a light punch on the shoulder (that likely only hurt herself) then accepted it. After She started biting into the delicacy, Ganyu saw the light in Her eyes had dimmed further into a reddish glow, the natural steel gray beginning to show through near Her pupils.

The Forge labored many long hours to hone Her craft and produce all kinds of goods. Ganyu figured it was best to let Her rest for a while.

#sagau #self aware genshin #genshin cult au #ask response #I'm back baby #hopefully #Forge!Creator don't mess around

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shadowmaat · 1 year

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Creative theft

I don’t think I’ll ever fully wrap my head around the rank entitlement some people have. Specifically in regards to paying artists, writers, crafters, etc.

* I want thing. * I can’t afford thing. * I’ll steal thing because I deserve it and the person who made it is a rich greedy asshole.

Stealing food and vital supplies from big box stores is one thing, but stealing from individual creative types who are probably also broke is fucking horrifying. No, you don’t “deserve” someone’s lovingly-crafted story or artwork without paying for all the time and effort they put into it. Sure, you deserve nice things once in a while, but not at the expense of someone else.

Pirating a struggling author’s books isn’t a “win” against Capitalism, it’s a “fuck you” to the author you claim to love, who sees their sales drop so far that their publisher decides there’s no demand for their books and doesn’t renew their contract. And you’d be surprised how many authors are just barely keeping afloat, even when they’re well-known names.

Using an AI program to copy your favorite artist’s style isn’t a “compliment” to them, it’s an insult. “I like your stuff but you charge too much” isn’t a valid answer, it’s just a convenient excuse to not give them any money. Artists deserve to eat, too. And they deserve recognition for the hard work they’ve done.

Buying cheap knock-offs of a dicemaker’s design isn’t some “gotcha.” You’re ruining their life and making them less likely (or less able) to create more designs. Dice-making is fucking expensive and time-consuming, and then you add in the creative effort needed in order to come up with unique designs that haven’t been done by someone else and yeah, it’s gonna get pricey. They aren’t overcharging. If anything they’re undercharging in hopes of some sales.

I keep thinking of that one story that makes the rounds here on occasion. The knitter who had a potential customer get angry because the price of the afghan they wanted was “too much.” The customer priced out the cost of the yarn and needles and decided that was more than fair. Except, y’know, that isn’t how it works. If you go to the store and buy the right amount of yarn and the needles to do it, are you going to be able to create the afghan on your own? Even if you know how to knit, can you follow the complex pattern you decided on? How long is it going to take you?

It isn’t just about the cost of the raw supplies, you’re paying for a person’s talent as well, and any skills/expertise they’ve developed in their field. Telling them that their effort, creativity, and time isn’t worth any money is fucking rude.

The only thing you’re proving by stealing from artists is that you’re a greedy, selfish bastard who cares more about your own petty needs than about the livelihoods of others.

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blithesharem · 7 months

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🧵 Satan

Outside, the seasons have begun to turn, a crisp wind blowing the first few leaves of fall past the window of your bedroom, and it was for once, blissfully, incredibly…a quiet afternoon at the House of Lamentation.

Part of that, you suspect, had to do with Asmo and Mammon sleeping off the remnants of their prior night out. Leviathan is comfortably holed up in his room, Belphie was passed out in the living room the last you checked, and Beel had poked his head in to bid you farewell on his way to the gym. Likewise, Lucifer had already sent you a text telling you he’d be home late from Diavolo’s.

It was the perfect day to catch up on some reading, or maybe watch a movie, or you could –

A sudden pounding on your door made you leap from your daydreams, and wistfully kiss your plans for peace and quiet goodbye.

“Satan?” You’re surprised to find him at the door. From the pounding you would have guessed it was one of his more excitable older brothers. Then again…a second glance shows the blond to be uncharacteristically frazzled, his cheeks flushed and his hair tussled. His sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows, jacket abandoned, and all together this was the most undone you’d ever seen him.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, alarmed.

“I need your help.” Was all the explanation you got before he was dragging you back to his room. Inside, he pulls you to his desk, gesturing helplessly at what can only be described as the monstrosity on top of it.

“Oh god. What did you do to it?”

“Shut-! I didn’t intend for this, of course! The instructions are incredibly unclear!” Satan snapped, cheeks reddening at your tease.

“You’ve been torturing it,” you observe solemnly, lifting the tangle of yearn and indicating the two knitting needles that are sticking out at jutted angles.

“I-If you’re not going to help, then leave!” the demon pouted, his flush creeping down the back of his neck now. You laugh affectionately, shaking your head and setting down his failed knitting project, turning to move a stack of books from his spare chair.

“No, no, let me see…” You smile at him and reach out a hand to coax him to sit down next to you. He lifts a book, A Demon’s Intro to Human Handicrafts, and sets it before you. You scan the instructions on the open crumpled page, carefully detangling Satan’s attempt as you do.

“Okay, so to start, you have to think of the pattern as a code,” you begin, and Satan leans over your shoulder to study the page with renewed curiosity.

“A code?”

“Yep! Like, right there, ‘dec’ means decrease…’p’ means purl…But first we need to cast on the number of stitches you want,” you explain patiently, watching Satan’s brow furrow cutely.

“Cast on?” he repeats, and you can almost see the spell working before he opens his mouth.

“Not that kind of casting…here, I’ll get you started,” you laugh, showing him your fingers as you work the yarn over the knitting needle.

“Ahh…Can I try?” he murmurs, and you pass the needles into his hand.

“So…like this?”

“Perfect!”

Three months later, and Satan is perhaps the proudest you’ve ever seen him when you unwrap his winter gift to you to find the most perfectly lopsided scarf you’d ever seen.

Send me an Obey Me Character and an Emoji (or two) and I'll write a ficlet or HC post for them.

#I really enjoy these!!#Satan is a cutie #obey me satan #obey me fluff #blithe fics

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urban-homesteading · 9 months

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This video describes a way that the leaves of a pineapple plant can be used after the harvest.

Pineapple leaves can be turned into a fiber which is then turned into yarn or a leather substitute. Pineapple fiber has been woven into clothing since the 17th centaury. A labor-intensive process, machines can now automate most of the work of turning the raw leaves into fiber. This yarn is biodegradable and from a renewable resource.

About thirty years ago, Carmen Hijosa invented a product called Piñatex. A leather substitute, the fibers of pineapple leaves are combined with a cornstarch derivative called polylactic acid. Polylactic acid is from a renewable resource (corn) but degrades poorly outside of commercial composting facilities as it needs temperatures of 140 °F to break down effectively. The fiber/polylactic acid combination is then coated in a petroleum-based resin for strength and durability. So while 95% of the process uses biodegradable products, the final product of Piñatex is not biodegradable and has the same waste effect on the environment as plastics.

However, compared to chrome tanning of animal leather, a process that is used for 85% of all leather products, the effects of Piñatex may be less detrimental to the environment if properly disposed of and composted in a commercial facility. If done properly, vegetable tanned leather seems to be the best for the environment in our current society out of the three.

So while this is very admirable and gets rid of a waste product that is otherwise normally burned, like all things, it stills affects the environment negatively and you have to go by your personal morals of what environmental impact is most important to you when choosing what product to consume.

#pineapple #pineapple fiber #alternative fibers #leather #Piñatex #vegetable yarn

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kerubimcrepin · 3 months

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Episode 40 - The Beginning

The same text asset as in the previous episode. I really like how good this show is at re-utilizing the art assets and files, by the way.

I don't know why this made me laugh so much.

This moment is made funnier by the fact that they have these balls everywhere at home. Everywhere in episode 1 and 2, then in a basket downstairs after that, then, in the movie, yet again, all over the fucking place. Chances are, playing with balls of wool is something Joris does a lot. No wonder he has no idea why Keke's mad at him this time.

KILL HIM JORIS. I really like that as time goes on he will say this about the most inane things. Buddy, he had a dinosaur tooth, and you're doubting that his orphan ass took a single yarn ball from Ecaflip's collection?

There are all these kids, who are friends, and Keke only plays with Ecaflip. I had said that, probably, being Atcham's brother didn't help him socially, but also,., I do think Ecaflip was isolating him on purpose too.

See, when Ecaflip needs Keke to feel awesome, it's "you're the luckiest ecaflip ever", but when he needs Kerubim to need his care and stay by his side, it's "you will Die without me."

I hate this guy.

DUN DUN DUN. None of the other kids even passed the confirmation. And it turns out they weren't meant to pass it to begin with, apparently... Very kind of Ecaflip.

It seems that most disciples are free to leave. Kerubim's the ~Exception~.

...Says the god of cards and fortune, who is characterized by his ability to manipulate luck and results. But did he really? Or is he simply... lying?

One very pointed detail here, is that we are shown the number of the tarot, which is "13", — and that allows us to pinpoint which real world card Misadventure is supposed to represent, to see what it means. So, shall we?

Oh my fucking god. Ecaflip... Cards never lie, but you just disregard what they say anyway!

Here is what the internet has to say on the topic:

The Death card symbolizes the end of a major phase or aspect of your life that you realize is no longer serving you, opening up the possibility of something far more valuable and essential. You must close one door to open another. You need to put the past behind you and part ways, ready to embrace new opportunities and possibilities. It may be difficult to let go of the past, but you will soon see its importance and the promise of renewal and transformation. If you resist these necessary endings, you may experience pain, both emotionally and physically, but if you exercise your imagination and visualize a new possibility, you allow more constructive patterns to emerge. [...] Finally, Death is a sign that you need to learn to let go of unhealthy attachments in your life to pave the way to a fuller, more fulfilled life of deeper meaning and significance. Death teaches you to let go of outworn and outgrown ways of life and to move forward from them. This is a perfect card to break a bad habit or pattern of behavior. See this as a time to cut out excess and let go of what is unnecessary for your life. Purge the old belongings, memories and baggage that are getting in your way.

I can't deal with this show anymore. How do I even analyse this, when this being the Death card already says all there is to say about Kerubim's childhood and his relationship with Ecaflip during it?

Yes, Ecaflip values the freedom of his disciples. As long as they are not useful to him. If they are... then, well, it doesn't matter what they want.

He probably wanted Kerubim to be by his side forever. For centuries. Just in one place, for him to have fun with. And I think that's a very normal thing to be scared shitless of.

...Orphanage confirmed to have toilers despite the fact that ecaflips can use a litter box. Also it really is such an Ecaflip move, to punish Kerubim for not wanting to be his pet for his whole life.

Can the metaphors in this episode get any thicker than this?

Also, the expression "a gilded cage" does exist in French.

Man, haha, I wonder if he's seen someone get the expulsion from the orphanage before, to give him this idea. I wonder if whoever that was had a name starting with A—— (I am forcibly removed from the stage and medicated.)

Things are that bad. He's being kept here against his will by a guy who plans to do this to him for centuries, and he's forced to mop for him.

I really do think that it's admirable, that no matter how much bullshit Ecaflip throws at him, Kerubim never loses his willingness to fight for himself, or, at the very least, make himself a problem. He will not go gently into that good night.

Y'know, judging from how often hearts are used in graffiti in this series, I genuinely think they may symbolize something far more risqué, in-universe.

It is a common misconception that, in earlier human history, this symbol was used to represent sexual organs, which may inspire its usage in this context, within the show.

(Apparently it simply doesn't look like a heart to modern people because we usually look at scientific diagrams, instead of like... actual real hearts of animals during butchery and cooking, or human cadavers. Apparently the real thing, without all the veins, is "<3" shaped. Yes, I went on a deep dive for this symbol's history, for this post. You're welcome.)

He really is the class clown. We love to see it.

This confirms that, within modern, cartoon-canon, god conversions are still a thing. Though probably very rare.

God, Ecaflip's literally that one meme.

Anyway, he was really, really betting on those 600 years of undying immortal codependency he already imagined for him and Kerubim, huh...

But sadly, his personality is too... bad for that. Someone else will get this specific brand of horrific parent-child relationship with Kerubim instead. It will be a very casual Joris Jurgen Win.

(It will also be an instance of Kerubim perpetuating the cycle. But let's not talk about that.)

Kerubim is saying this to make him feel guilty, as can be seen from his pout immediately after he says this. But the thing is...

The thing is that if you keep telling someone that they're worthless, so that they stay with you, they will, generally, probably start believing it just a little bit. Even if they don't want to. Especially if they're a child.

He can't hide how much these words actually mean to him.

Is it any wonder his relationship with Lou fell apart because he felt unworthy of her, and it made him fall into gambling addiction, and the glitz and glam of being "successful" and "rich"?

Of course he would develop 20 mental illnesses about this...

The scariest part of this episode is that Joris recognizes enough similarities between his own situation and Kerubim's (an isolating relationship with a single adoptive parent (Don't forget, Kerubim did have a mortal family once, before the temple, — Ecaflip essentially took him in, despite being his biological father), and said parent insists on being ~Besties~ with you, while you don't really have many, if any at all, friends outside the household. And the household is a very high-stress environment), to clock the relationship between Keke and Eca as a parent-child one.

Even without yet knowing that Kerubim is a demigod.

Man... Kerubim perpetuating the cycle.

#ep40 #ro liveblogs dofus #dofus #wakfu #krosmoz #kerubim crepin

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shilohta · 2 months

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WIP Wednesday

The oatmeal vomit cardigan! (So called bc I think the yarn is hideous in an interesting way)

I haven't fully figured out what I want to do with the sleeves. I have a dream, but not the math to back it up. Nevertheless, we persist.

I'm impressed with myself for finishing the body, that's the most knitting and most complex knitting I've done on a single project so far.

But I need to finish the sleeves and buttonband so this doesn't languish in the Bin of Shame (UFOs)

No pattern, just guidelines from a top-down sweater book that's overdue at the library (and I can't renew it bc other ppl have it on hold). I could have/ should have made the body longer so that my crossing lines could bounce and come together again at the back. As it is, it hits about my natural waist. It would have been rad as a longer cardi. I'm hoping to give the sleeves some extra poof to add to the vauge medieval jerkin vibes it's giving

#knitting #wip wednesday

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bumblebeeappletree · 3 months

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youtube

We are exploring how to achieve all the prismatic colours of the rainbow. From deep luscious red to dark blue and deep purple, find out how you can dye at home to get the colours you want for a rainbow project. I will cover red, orange, yellow, green, blue, pink, purple and black, using the intersectional pride flag to help give an overview for the colours we'll be achieving. This channel is run by a queer crafter and I am happy to share my knowledge for pride projects. Happy Pride!

Note: this video also includes yarn which is about 50 years old, as an exploration of how we can renew and use antique materials to new uses.

Chapters:

0:00: Intro

2:09: Starting Material (Antique Yarn)

3:52: Scouring

5:13: Mordanting

5:40: Red & Pink (Brasilwood)

8:49: Orange (Coreopsis)

11:11: Yellow (Birch leaves)

12:25: Green (Birch leaves & Indigo)

13:49: Blue (Indigo)

14:42: Purple & Black (Logwood)

15:45: Results

Video Links:

Brasilwood:

• How to Dye with Easter...

Coreopsis:

• How to Dye with Coreop...

Birch Leaves:

• Naturally Dyeing with ...

Indigo:

Part 1 (Setting up a vat):

• How to Set Up an Indig...

Part 2 (Using a vat):

• How to Dye with Indigo...

For more in-depth discussion on mordanting, check out my video on dyeing with acorns:

• How to Naturally Dye w...

#Wildcraft Dyeing #solarpunk #how to #how to dye #dye #natural dye #diy #do it yourself #rainbow #queer pride #Brasilwood #Coreopsis #Birch #Birch leaves #indigo #Logwood #Youtube

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obwjam · 7 months

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Lady Seraphina's terror intensified as she found herself cradled in Gulliver's enormous hands. Her wide eyes, filled with fear, darted between his face and the ground below. The stories she had heard about the giant's supposed malevolence haunted her thoughts, and she couldn't shake the dread that gripped her heart.

"B-please," she stammered, her voice quivering, "don't hurt me. I beg of you, spare my life."

Gulliver, his expression softened with understanding, gave a kind grin. "Whoa, whoa, slow down, little knight! No need to freak out. I'm not the bad guy here. I'm just a dude trying to lend a hand, literally and figuratively. You've got my word, no harm will come to you."

Despite his reassurance, Seraphina couldn't shake off her fear entirely. The enormity of the giant before her was overwhelming, and the stories she had grown up hearing continued to cloud her judgment. Her voice trembled as she replied, "I've heard tales, terrible tales of your monstrous nature. Please, prove to me that those stories are wrong."

Gulliver's eyes, as big as saucers, conveyed a mix of amusement and empathy. "Yeah, about those stories... I think people may have exaggerated a tad. But hey, we all have our flaws, right? Sometimes, it's just fun to spin a good yarn."

Seraphina, still cautious but starting to relax, couldn't help but be intrigued by the unexpected humor in Gulliver's words. She ventured, "So, you're saying you're not here to destroy our kingdom?"

Gulliver shook his head, causing Seraphina to sway like a leaf in his palm. "Nah, destroying stuff isn't my style. I promise you, I'm here to help."

As moments passed without any sign of aggression, a glimmer of trust began to flicker in Seraphina's eyes. Slowly, her initial terror was replaced by cautious hope, and she started to believe that perhaps the gentle giant before her wasn't the monster the tales had made him out to be.

With a sigh of relief, she finally managed a weak smile and whispered, "Thank you for saving me, Gulliver."

Gulliver beamed down at her, and together, they faced the enemy with renewed courage, ready to protect their kingdom, the princess, and prove that sometimes, the most unexpected alliances are the strongest ones.

took me too long into this to realize it was jack black gulliver LOL

#i was like #they didnt talk like this in the 20th century #asks

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beardedmrbean · 2 months

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On March 1, Bulgarians celebrate Baba Marta - one of the most beloved Bulgarian traditions, preserved to this day. We associate the holiday with the symbolic beginning of spring and the renewal of nature. On this day, everyone presents their loved ones with martenitsi – special ornaments made of white and red yarn. They are a symbol of health, luck and strength during the year. This custom is an important element of Bulgaria's cultural heritage and continues to be a favorite tradition for many Bulgarians today.

Although there are different variations and names in different cultures, the general idea of wearing ornaments associated with spring and wishes for health and luck is widespread in the region. The tradition of tying a martenitsa, made of twisted white and red woolen threads, is known not only in Bulgaria, but also in other Balkan countries such as Romania, Macedonia, Greece, Serbia and others.

The name of the holiday "Baba Marta" is associated with the mythical creature "Baba Marta" (Grandmother Marta), which is part of Bulgarian folklore and personifies the changeable month of March. She is the personification of March and is considered the sister of Golyam Sechko (Big Sechko) and Malak Sechko (Small Sechko), which represent January and February. The custom of Baba Marta is related to the beliefs and traditions associated with the coming of spring. Throughout the month, rites are performed to chase away snakes and lizards, as well as fortune-telling related to certain migratory birds.

The custom of wearing martenitsi on March 1 is closely related to the feast of Baba Marta and is the day of her arrival. Bulgarians believe that when Baba Marta laughs, it is sunny and warm outside, but if she gets angry, the wind blows and clouds hide the sun. Therefore, many of the traditions on March 1 are aimed at propitiating her. She is believed to appear dressed in red and visit only tidy and clean homes, so people clean their homes at the end of February. This spring cleaning symbolizes getting rid of everything bad and unnecessary from last year. A red tablecloth is brought out into the courtyard to please Baba Marta and attract favor to the house, according to Bulgarian stories.

The martenitsa is made of two twisted threads, mostly of woolen or cotton yarn - in white and red. In some areas, the martenitsi are multi-colored, but the red color always predominates - a symbol of life, the sun and fertility. While the white color represents purity, innocence and happiness. It is a tradition on the first day of March for the oldest woman in the family to tie a twisted white and red thread on the children's hands for health and against bad luck. Martenits are carried for a certain period of time - until the appearance of a flowering tree or the first migratory bird. They are placed on a tree or under a stone. In the latter case, you can guess - if there are ants under it, the year will be fertile. Another custom is to hang them on a flowering tree or bush or carry them to the storks' nest and only then put them on a tree. Decorated trees and bushes are traditionally seen in many places in Bulgaria and the world. It is believed that the gift of the martenitsa brings happiness and luck. That's why all people give martenitsi to their relatives and friends.

Legend of the Martenitsi

There are many legends and traditions related to the origin of Martenitsa in Bulgarian culture. One of them tells about Khan Kubrat, the ruler of the proto-Bulgarians, who at the end of his life ordered his sons not to split and always remain friendly and cheerful. So that Bulgaria's enemies may never defeat them. Time passed, the khan died and it was time to check his vow. Then the Khazars attacked the proto-Bulgarians and captured Kubrat's daughter - Khuba.

The leader of the Huns, Khan Ashina, offered the five sons to recognize him as their ruler, and he would free their sister and conquer the Bulgarian lands. The Khan's sons did not know what to do, the choice was difficult.

The eldest son, Bayan, decided to recognize Khazar rule and stay with his captive sister. The other brothers did not agree and went to look for free land for their tribes. One brother went north, and the others, Asparukh, Kuber and Alcek, went south. Before parting, the brothers secretly agreed with Khuba and Bayan to stay with Arshina, at least until free land was found. After that, Asparuh would send them a bird tied by a golden thread to its leg as a sign to flee. The brothers went on their journey and left the captive girl and Bayan in Ashina's hands.

Soon Khuba and Bayan received the sign from the dove with the golden thread on its leg. Eventually, they escaped from the bad khan and reached the waters of the Danube. They did not know how to cross to the other shore and only the dove could show them the way. Bayan took a white thread, which Khuba tied on the leg of the pigeon. They let the bird fly, but at that moment Hunnic troops appeared and fired at them. Bayan was injured, and the beginning of the thread he was holding was stained with blood. Just at that moment, Asparukh appeared with his soldiers on the other side of the river, which caused the Huns to flee.

Asparukh helped Khuba and Bayan cross the river. He took the thread from Bayan and tied its white end with the red one. He then pinned his troops with a piece of the red thread. After that, he stood before the army and confessed that he and his brothers had disobeyed their father's advice and thus paid with their blood for their disunity. He ordered that the red and white thread never be torn, because this bloodstained thread will forever bind the Bulgarians.

#nunyas news #baba marta

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verfound · 7 months

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MINIFIC: Oct. 23: Day 1: Autumn (MLB, Lukanette, DLM AU)

...I was gonna do these, and then I wasn't gonna do em, and then work life flipped off creative life and here I am, joining the fun at @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers's late. Using the Ghostober 2021 prompts here. Just having fun. 👀

Read on A03

To Feel Alive Again: Day 1: Autumn

A chill breeze whispered through the street, nipping at the edges of exposed skin peeking out from coats and scarves. Marinette pulled her own coat – a lumpy, gray thing she had lifted off a reap a few weeks back – and tried not to scowl.

She used to love this time of year. Before.

The changing of the seasons meant a new wardrobe. Layers of material, vibrant splashes of color, boots and hats and scarves – so many accessories. She used to have the cutest peacoat, made from a deep burgundy wool that always kept her warm on the coldest fall days. She had embroidered a swirl of leaves around the hem in a rich gold thread, and she had even found golden buttons shaped like maple leaves to line the front. She had been so proud of that coat. She’d lived in it every fall for years.

…she hadn’t died in it, though.

She’d died in the spring.

When it was too warm for such a heavy coat.

She supposed it was funny, in a way. Before, the fall – a season marked by death – had always brought a new life to her, but the spring – the season for life and renewal – had brought with it her death.

Now she saw it everywhere.

It was hard to love things anymore. In the After.

“You’re still allowed to love things,” Théo had said, not unkindly, one morning over breakfast. It was a rare moment of seriousness for him, and if she hadn’t been in such a foul mood she might have appreciated it. Instead, she hunkered down deeper in the gray coat she hated and stared – glared – out the window. She hummed, not really agreeing or disagreeing. She didn’t see the way Luka glanced up at her from his coffee, a small frown playing at the edges of his mouth.

She did see the large, chunky sweater folded on the foot of her bed when she came home a week later, though.

“…Fred, what…did you leave this here?” she called, her hands trembling as she held the sweater up. It was obviously handmade – not as good as she could make, but absolutely perfect in its little imperfections. The stitches pulled just a little too tight or a little too loose, the slightly uneven ribbing along the neck, the braiding that hadn’t been blocked properly zigzagging down the front…it spoke of time, and care, and things Marinette hadn’t let herself think about in far too long. And it was soft, the yarn used to make it obviously high quality. She knew just how much a sweater like this would cost – more than she could dream of affording these days, when she was still struggling to hold down an after-death job.

“Hmm?” Fred called, popping his head in the room. When he saw the sweater, his eyebrows lifted. “Ah, that? No, it wasn’t me. Luka dropped it off while you were out. Said something about pink suiting you?”

Marinette’s head jerked up, surprised, but Fred was just smiling at you.

“You’re still allowed to love things, Marinette,” he said, inclining his head towards her. “You’re still allowed to feel.”

She looked back at the sweater, her lips pursed and her eyes burning with tears she refused to shed, and didn’t answer. Fred sighed and flipped his hat onto his head, nodding at her.

“I’m off,” he said, tipping his hat at her. “Make sure you eat tonight, kid, all right?

…he probably hadn’t meant a mug of hot chocolate and a plate of macarons, but as she hunkered down in the nicest sweater she had ever worn and watched her old favorite sappy movie on the cracked tv…well.

At least when you’re dead you don’t have to worry about calories.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain-cheng #luka couffaine #fred haprele #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #lbsc october minifics 2023 #ml fic #ver fic #lovebugs-and-snakecharmers #prompt fic #established character death #angst #dead like me au #dlm au #to feel alive again

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