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#words of the trade
theoutcastrogue · 18 days
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Commentary more than welcome! Which word flatters you, which intrigues you or attracts you? (In the broad sense, though the narrow sense is very much viable.) Which repels you, and which, weirdly, does both? Terry Pratchett wrote that rogue is "a word with a twinkle in its eye", but there's no shortage of words like that. How do you like them?
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dingledraw · 6 days
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South Downs cottage fluff based on the Dolly Parton song “Berrypie” 🩷
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yk there's a lot of talk about the way merlin is practically a god but lives as an unassuming servant, and seeing this surprises druids/other magic users. i wanna see kind of the same thing happen to arthur with the people of his kingdom. we know arthur so intimately, from merlin's pov, but i wanna see him as a living legend. stories of his valor spreading across land, blown out of proportion and missing details. “the prince slayed the great dragon and gifted its head to the king!” “some say the goddess blessed him when he was born, when she took the queen back. how else does one survive an attack by a questing beast?” “he held out his hand and the sword stuck in solid stone flew to him! iwan says meredith’s aunt saw it herself!” “the word has come, king arthur defeated annis’ champion—a giant of a man!” old men discussing arthur’s policies, comparing them with those of previous rulers, and being glad that it's him on the throne “finally, a good fucking king.” people having faith that their ruler is generous and fair and can be approached in times of need, and having the comforting knowledge that he would do his best to help because that's what he did with the other village last year! young boys dreaming to join his army and young girls daydreaming about a fairy tale ending with him (or vice versa, obv). just... arthur of his people.
what I'm saying is i want an outsider pov character study of arthur pendragon king of camelot. hope that helps
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bakudekublogblog · 3 months
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god thinking about katsuki murmuring "gotta win... right izuku?" right before charging right into his death is so so so fucking batshit insane of a thing to include. like he's yearning for him. like not only is he speaking as if izuku is still at his side, but he still remembers what izuku said to him all those months ago and is fighting to live up to the version of himself izuku admired. and then he goes "tell me.... izuku.... can i still reach you" CAN I STILL REACH YOU LITERALLY LONGING FOR HIM, TELL ME, ONE LAST THING BEFORE I GO, JUST TELL ME IF I CAN REACH YOU FUCKING I'M LOSING MY MIND OVER HERE IT'S PEAK PINING TRAGIC ROMANCE
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its-leethee · 5 months
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"...I know."
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crybaby-bkg · 5 months
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cw: this got long sorry 😔 but creepy/perv bakugou, recording, film major bkg x art major reader, masturbation, coercion, dubcon before it just becomes con, voyeurism/exhibitionism
as an art major, you typically did some works for a few students on campus; for their plays, as background pieces while they danced, a cover for their released songs. it wasn’t out of the ordinary for people to ask you to create something for them, and you enjoyed it more often than not. but, you weren’t usually the art itself.
Bakugou is a friend’s friend that you’ve seen a few times, ran into at the library or at coffee shops. he’s a film major, and always looks so unhappy about the whole thing, as if he didn’t choose it himself. you joke to Mina that you think he’ll graduate and become one of those directors that hate everything and yell at the actors constantly and later on get sued for being a dickhead. you never say it to him though—you’ve never spoken more than a couple words to the man.
it’s why it shocks you when he approaches you one day. it’s after one of your painting classes, and he stands outside the door with a frown and his hands shoved in his pockets, his eyebrows scrunched as if pissed at the mere sight of you. he asks you, in that low and gruff tone of his, if you could star in his final project for the semester. says it’s supposed to be a film made with this criteria and that, but, you’ve kind of checked out on the conversation after the first sentence.
“You mean, you want me to create something and that be the star of your film?” you ask him, feeling so intimidated at his stature. he always seems to loom, his hair shadowing the lights above, creates a cast over a portion of his face, makes his eyes look…unsettling. like they’re looking straight through your flesh, can find the marrow in your bones. he scoffs like you’ve offended him, rolling his eyes into his skull, mouth pulled tight.
“No.” his voice is firm, gaze concentrated only on you, like the halls are empty and you’re the focus of his lens. “I want you to star in it.”
his words confuse you—you’ve never presented yourself as an actor before, never alluded to wanting to be in the spotlight if not for what you create with your hands. but he shuffles on his feet, looks desperate even. there’s some hemming and hawing for a minute or so—why not choose Mina?—she’s busy—why choose me?—‘cause you’d be perfect for my short film—what’s it about?—you’ll find out once you get the script.
and even after you hesitantly agree and get the script—you still don’t understand what you’re doing. why you’re here, why you’re the only person, why it has to be a solo film, why there’s damn near zero lines in the entirety of the have-to-be forty five minute film.
the scenes are all so long, and maybe it’s because movies aren’t your forte or chosen major, but you just don’t get it. one scene; you’re staring at yourself in the mirror while Bakugou holds a small, black camera over your shoulder. he’s eerily quiet behind you, whispers out a faint fuckin’ go when you have to wash your face in the sink, makes you do it over because your movements are too jerky and unnatural.
the rest of the scenes go that way; you doing regular at home activities, being put under a lens, quietly barked at to do this and move that way and fix your hair and remember to frown.
“Isn’t there another way to film this?” you ask him on the fifth day of shooting in his spacious loft. there’s a bubble bath scene coming up, one you dont understand the importance of, but Bakugou tells you it’s the most necessary part of the entire thing.
“No,” he grunts out, looking at you from under his lashes as he sits on the lid of the toilet. “But I’ll make it soapy, so the camera won’t see much.” the camera? much? you weren’t worried so much about what the camera captured as you were the man behind it. he looks at you with such intensity, you feel naked already despite the robe you wear that’s suspiciously already your size.
he leaves the bathroom when you sink in the hot water, returns before you can say it’s okay, hears the water splashing and thinks that’s good enough. he kneels on the floor beside you, camera pointed directly in your face, makes your chest hot and your skin feel prickly. the scene passes on regularly enough; you run the water over your arms, tilt your head back as you sigh, whisper the few lines scripted, lean back and close your eyes, sigh again. it’s almost relaxing, makes you forget about the friend of a friend recording you naked right now. almost.
“Touch yourself.” Bakugou suddenly demands, hushed and quiet behind the camera. your eyes immediately shoot open, looking to him in question, how he’s eerily still in his spot hovering over you.
“Huh?” you ask, unsure if you heard him correctly, looking around the rounded lens in your face, trying to ignore the red blinking light. but Bakugou only frowns.
“It’s a masturbation scene. Touch yourself.” he repeats, voice louder, more demanding this time. your stomach twists at the thought of doing something so intimate in front of him. he’s a handsome guy, for sure, even made you consider asking him out after this, figured he was just serious about his work and awkward about certain things. but…something had been off about this entire thing since the start.
“But—but I don’t, I’m not,” you stutter, sitting up a little, the bubbles covering your chest starting to disperse with your movements. but Bakugou only sits a little higher on his knees, finally pulling the camera away from his face for the first time since he’s asked you to do this for him.
“You want me to fail?” he asks, booming voice eerily quiet in the silent bathroom, carmine eyes dull, shaded over with something terrible. “Then do it.” he tells you when you shake your head quickly.
you stare at him until he gets back into position again, camera back pointed at you. when he doesn’t say anything else, you swallow thickly, wondering if the art that will come out of this will be worth it. so you listen, sneak a hand under the water, start touching yourself in a way you never have in front of anyone.
is it bad to say that it’s exhilarating? being watched and recorded by someone who breathes so heavily every time your voice hiccups? being directed to touch your chest next when the suds start to disappear and your nipples start to peek through? is it bad that you want him to send you this portion of his film, only, just so you can watch yourself again and again? make a portrait of yourself with your fingers on your nipples and your knees raising from the water and your head thrown back from the intensity in oil pastels?
“That’s a wrap.” Bakugou announces when you finish, head spinning and still panting. you look over to him, how he closes the camera, the obvious bulge in his pants. “I’ll get you a towel.”
you wonder when’s the next time he’ll need you. or better yet—maybe he could be the star in your final drawing project? you had finished it already but, what was the harm in starting over with him as your muse? as naked as you are? camera not blocking his face so you can paint the similarities of his blushing cheeks and eyes when you direct him to look at you? to touch his chest? to play with himself just like that?
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edsbacktattoo · 2 years
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just had (evil) thoughts
so Ed gets rid of the silk first, right? He lets it go to the wind. then he gets rid of Lucius, then all of Stede's nice things, then his crew (save for Jim and Frenchie).
he puts on the Big Bad Scary Kraken persona and says this:
"Farewell Bonnet's playthings. Onto the next."
does that. does that mean he views his red piece of silk as one of 'Bonnet's Playthings' as well?
does that mean that Ed thought his heart was being toyed with? but does that also mean that he nevertheless believed it still belonged to Stede?
like yes, you may have been reckless with it, but it was yours anyway.
and maybe that's part of why he abandons it. maybe he didn't think it belonged to him anymore. maybe it became Stede's the moment he held it with both hands and treated it with care despite how 'tatty and old' it was.
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anthurak · 6 months
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So I have a number of interesting and fun thoughts on MAMMON’S MAGNIFICENT MUSICAL MID-SEASON SPECIAL (ft Fizzarolli), but to start with:
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Even though it's not directly brought up in the episode, how much does anyone want to bet that a sizable chunk of why Fizzerolli believes that he 'owes' Mammon is because Mammon quote-unquote 'saved him' from Cash Buckzo? As in, becoming Mammon's brand figure after the accident is what allowed Fizz to finally get away from Cash for good?
Basically, Fizz's gratitude for (among other things) getting him away from an abusive, manipulative and exploitative boss/wannabe-father-figure left him in denial that he was now under ANOTHER abusive, manipulative and exploitative boss/wannabe-father-figure.
In short, I wasn't expecting Fizzerolli to have common ground with the likes of Winter Schnee and Miranda Lawson, but here we are :D
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diathadevil · 5 months
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Do you ever think about how Fakir, after him and Ahiru finally broke everything that kept the town of Goldkröne in the ghostly hands of its writer, after they finally have some air of peace over the town finally being able to live in its intended early 2000s environment, that Fakir still feels at times like it's not real and that for a while he fears that if he closes his eyes it'll be back in Drosselmeyer's control. Like it just doesn't feel real to him during that first year of calm, until he feels the dull pain on his recovering hand injury and Ahiru who follows him without a pendant anywhere to be found.
He doesn't feel it's real, the calm finality of this town, but he makes sure to feel the scar on his hand. And he makes sure to hold the little duck and realize that she is who she has always been. Him and the town are finally living peacefully.
#dia talks#princess tutu#He probably starts planning on writing Ahiru into the world mayyybe like 3-4 months into his recovery#he doesn't know what a cell phone is yet but he sure as hell can look at a bookstore and ask for a notebook and pens#i bet that first year in Goldenkröne must be hell because trading deals bring all sorts of new things into the town#Just Fakir going “what the fuck is a scooter?? Wait what's a CAR---”#he ends up having to read a bunch of newspaper articles about “Goldenkröne booming in German tourism!”#Actually does he even know his country's name... Did they all even know they lived in Germany and not JUST a city????#Drosselmeyer would've really pulled one on them for only talking about the city and its outskirts and NOT the country it resided in#But let's assume they did know. Fakir would have to figure out so much has changed in 2002 Germany compared to whatever time they were in#My god just thinking about the thought of Fakir learning what a television is... or a radio for that matter has me howling internally#local amateur writer is put into a coma after hearing for the very first time german rapper Sido#alternatively: local amateur writer's brain explodes after hearing german Happycore artist Blümchen and dance pop group No Angels#ptutu spoiler#i know its a +20 old show but just in case people wanna watch it i love it enough to tag the post show headcanon#ptutu analysis#ptutu headcanon#ptutu post canon#Also sorry i keep jumbling between Goldkröne and Goldenkröne in the writing its 4 AM and the german part of my brain is a mess lmao#(its supposed to be Goldkröne but for some reason I keep making it into the attribute word Golden so dont mind the mistake)#(if you do i will sob please be gentle towards my polyglot self)
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WHAT DO YOU MEAN FANTASY AU HOME FINDS WALLY A LOVER AND THAT ITS COMPLICATED?????
AM I SNIFFING SOME LORE????
OK LISTEN YES AND NO YES AND NO it's not so cut and dry!
most if not all of my decisions in au-crafting stems from the source, my understanding of it, and my interpretations. so warlock!Wally & patron!Home's relationship is how i view their relationship in ~canon~(albeit slightly more intense due to the change in situation). in short: devoted, codependent, intimate, a little strange, and unable to be labeled
so i wouldn't say that Home looks at Wally with outright/explicit romantic feelings, because it's more complicated than that. plus i'm an aro Wally truther. i actually have a ramble post queued up about exactly this so i won't say anything more on the matter rn
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theoutcastrogue · 3 months
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Cold Iron in folklore, fiction, and RPGs
'Gold is for the mistress—silver for the maid! Copper for the craftsman cunning at his trade.' 'Good!' said the Baron, sitting in his hall, 'But Iron—Cold Iron—is master of them all!' — Rudyard Kipling, “Cold Iron”
Folklore
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Drudenmesser, or "witch-knife", an apotropaic folding knife from Germany
The notion that iron (or steel) can ward against evil spirits, witches, fairies, etc is very widespread in folklore. You hang a horseshoe over your threshold to deny entry to evil spirits, you carry an iron tool with you to make sure devils won't assault you, you place a small knife under the baby's crib to ward it from witches, and so on. Iron is apotropaic in many many cultures.
In English, we often come across passages that refer to apotropaic cold iron (or cold steel). "All uncouth, unknown Wights are terrifyed by nothing earthly so much as by cold Iron", says Robert Kirk in 1691, which I believe is the earliest example. "Evil spirits cannot bear the touch of cold steel. Iron, or preferably steel, in any form is a protection", says John Gregorson Campbell in 1901.
Words
So what is cold iron? In this context, it’s just iron. The “cold” part is poetic, especially – but not only – if we’re talking about either blades (or swords, weapons, the force of arms) or manacles and the like. It just sounds more ominous. There are “cold yron chaines” in The Fairie Queene (1596), and a 1638 book of travels tells us that a Georgian general (in the Caucasus) vowed “to make the Turk to eat cold iron”.
Green’s Dictionary of Slang defines “cold iron” as a sword, and dates the term to 1698. From 1725 it appears in Cant dictionaries (could this sense be thieves’ cant, originally? why not, plenty of words and expressions started as underworld slang and then entered the mainstream), and from ~1750 its use becomes much more common.
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NGram Viewer diagram for 1600-2019.
In other contexts, cold iron is (surprise!) iron that’s not hot. So let’s talk a bit about metallurgy.
Metals
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In nature, we can find only one kind of iron that’s pure enough to work with: meteoritic iron. It has to literally fall from the sky. Barring that very rare occurrence, people have to mine the earth for iron ore, which is not workable as is. To separate the iron from the ore we have to smelt it, and for that we need heat, in the form of hot charcoals. Throwing the ore on the coals won’t do much of anything, it’s not hot enough. But if we enclose the coals in a little tower built of clay, leaving holes for air flow, the temperature rises enough to smelt the ore. That’s called a bloomery.
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clay bloomery / medieval bloomery / beating the bloom to get rid of the slag
What comes out of the bloomery is a bloom: a porous, malleable mass of iron (that we need) and slag (byproducts that we don’t need). But now we can get rid of the slag and turn the porous mass to something solid, by hammering the hot bloom over and over. And once the slag is off, by the same process we can give it a desired shape in the forge, reheating it as needed. This is called “working” the iron, hence “wrought iron” objects, i.e. forged.
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a blacksmith in his forge, with bellows, fire, and anvil (English woodcut, 1603)
This is the lowest-tech version, possibly going back to ~2000 BCE in Nigeria. If we add bellows, the improved air flow will raise the temperature. So smelting happens faster and more efficiently in the bloomery, and so does heating the iron in the forge, making it easier to work with. And that’s the standard process from the Iron Age all through the middle ages and beyond (although in China they may have skipped this stage and gone straight to the next one).
If we make the bloomery bigger and bigger, with stronger and stronger bellows, we end up with a blast furnace, a construction so efficient that the temperature outright melts the iron, and it’s liquified enough to be poured into a mould and acquire the desired shape when it cools off. This is “cast iron”.
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a blast furnace
So in all of this, what’s cold iron? Well, it’s iron that went though the heat and cooled off. (No heat = no iron, all you got is ore.) If it came out of a bloomery, or if it wasn’t cast, it’s by definition worked, hammered, beaten, wrought, and that happened while it was still hot.
Is there such a thing as “cold-wrought” iron? No. In fact, “working cold iron” was a simile for something foolish or pointless. A smith who beats cold iron instead of putting it in the fire shows folly, says a 1694 book on religion, so you too should choose your best tools, piety and good decorum, to educate your children and servants, instead of beating them. When Don Quixote (1605) declares he’ll go knight-erranting again, Sancho Panza tries to dissuade him, but it’s like “preaching in the desert and hammering on cold iron” (a direct translation of martillar en hierro frío).
Minor work can be done on cold iron. A 1710 dictionary of technical terms tells us that a rivetting-hammer is “chiefly used for rivetting or setting straight cold iron, or for crooking of small work; but ’tis seldom used at the forge”. Fully fashioning an object out of cold iron is not a real process – though a 1659 History of the World would claim that in Arabia it’s so hot that “smiths work nails and horseshoes out of cold iron, softened only by the vigorous heat of the sun, and the hard hammering of hands on the anvil”. [I declare myself unqualified to judge the veracity of this statement, let's just say I have doubts.] And there is of course such a thing as “cold wrought-iron”, as in wrought iron after it’s cooled off.
Either way, in the context of pre-20th century English texts which refer to apotropaic “cold iron”, it’s definitely not “cold-wrought”, or meteoritic, or a special alloy of any kind. It’s just iron.
Fiction
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The old superstition kept coming up in fantasy fiction. In 1910 Rudyard Kipling wrote the very influential short story “Cold Iron” (in the collection Rewards and Fairies), where he explains invents the details of the fairies’ aversion to iron. They can’t bewitch a child wearing boots, because the boots have nails in the soles. They can’t pass under a doorway guarded by a horseshoe, but they can slip through the backdoor that people neglected to guard. Mortals live “on the near side of Cold Iron”, because there’s iron in every house, while fairies live “on the far side of Cold Iron”, and want nothing to do with it. And changelings brought up by fairies will go back to the world of mortals as soon they touch cold iron for the first time.
In Poul Anderson’s The Broken Sword (1954), we read:
“Let me tell you, boy, that you humans, weak and short-lived and unwitting, are nonetheless more strong than elves and trolls, aye, than giants and gods. And that you can touch cold iron is only one reason.”
In Peter S. Beagle’s The Last Unicorn (1968) the unicorn is imprisoned in an iron cage:
“She turned and turned in her prison, her body shrinking from the touch of the iron bars all around her. No creature of man’s night loves cold iron, and while the unicorn could endure its presence, the murderous smell of it seemed to turn her bones to sand and her blood to rain.”
Poul Anderson would come back to that idea in Operation Chaos (1971), where the worldbuilding’s premise is that magic and magical creatures have been reintroduced into the modern world, because a scientist “discovered he could degauss the effects of cold iron and release the goetic forces”. And that until then, they had been steadily declining, ever since the Iron Age came along.
There are a million examples, I’m just focusing on those that would have had a more direct influence on roleplaying games. However, I should note that all these say “cold iron” but mean “iron”. Yes, the fey call it cold, but they are a poetic bunch. You can’t expect Robin Goodfellow’s words to be pedestrian, now can you?
RPGs
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And from there, fantasy roleplaying systems got the idea that Cold Iron is a special material that fey are vulnerable to. The term had been floating around since the early D&D days, but inconsistently, scattered in random sourcebooks, and not necessarily meaning anything else than iron. In 1st Edition’s Monster Manual (1977) it’s ghasts and quasits who are vulnerable to it, not any fey creature. Devils and/or fiends might dislike iron, powdered cold iron is a component in Magic Circle Against Evil, and “cold-wrought iron” makes a couple of appearances. For example, in AD&D it can strike Fool’s Gold and turn it back to its natural state, revealing the illusion.
Then Changeling: The Dreaming came along and made it a big deal, a fundamental rule, and an anathema to all fae:
Cold iron is the ultimate sign of Banality to changelings. ... Its presence makes changelings ill at ease, and cold iron weapons cause horrible, smoking wounds that rob changelings of Glamour and threaten their very existence.... The best way to think about cold iron is not as a thing, but as a process, a very low-tech process. It must be produced from iron ore over a charcoal fire. The resulting lump of black-gray material can then be forged (hammered) into useful shapes. — Changeling: The Dreaming (2nd Edition, 1997)
So now that we know how iron works, does that description make sense? Well, if we assume that the iron ore is unceremoniously dumped on coals, it does not. You can’t smelt iron like that. If we assume that a bloomery is involved even though it’s not mentioned, then yes, this is broadly speaking how iron’s been made since the Iron Age, and until blast furnaces came into the picture. But the World of Darkness isn’t a pseudo-medieval setting, it’s modern urban fantasy. So the implication here is that “cold iron” is iron made the old way: you can’t buy it in the store, someone has to replicate ye olde process and do the whole thing by hand. Now, this is NOT how the term “cold iron” has been used in real life or fiction thus far, but hey, fantasy games are allowed to invent things.
Regardless, 3.5 borrowed the idea, and for the first time D&D made this a core rule. Now most fey creatures had damage reduction and took less damage from weapons and natural attacks, unless the weapon was made of Cold Iron:
“This iron, mined deep underground, known for its effectiveness against fey creatures, is forged at a lower temperature to preserve its delicate properties.” — Player’s Handbook (3.5 Edition, 2003)
Pathfinder kept the rule, though 5e did not. And unlike Changeling, this definition left it somewhat ambiguous if we’re talking about a material with special composition (i.e. not iron) or made with a special process (i.e. iron but). The community was divided, threads were locked over this!
So until someone points me to new evidence, I’ll assume that the invention of cold iron as a special material, distinct from plain iron, should be attributed to TTRPGs.
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carameldansan · 5 days
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BROOO they’re all gonna die 😭 going into the show blind, but I’d be so upset if somebody traded my life for bread. However it’s forgiven since it was senshi. ♥️
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andersdotters · 4 months
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Oddly enough, in terms of love languages, I don't think Diluc would have physical touch ranked at the bottom.
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enlighten3d · 4 months
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(this is literally just an appreciation post for the watcher trope because its one of my favourite things of all time.)
listen ik the whole watcher thing gets quite a bit of hate in this fandom for being so overused, but personally i love it. i love it so much. just because of how versatile it is. i mean, just scroll through the watcher grian tag on ao3, and youll see hundreds of different interpretations of the same beings!
some have wings, some are humanoid, some are decidedly not, some are really fucking evil, some are just misunderstood, some actually do good, some are literal gods, some are just a group of people, some are like a cult, some are just random mysterious fuckers, some are just the explanation for anything weird, some are engaged in gang warfare with the listeners, etc etc etc ETC !!!!! so many different things, so many different narratives, based off one thing!!!
i have like four unfinished watcher!grian fics in my gdocs right now. i will probably not finish all of them. but sometimes i just think about how even between those four fics, the interpretations are so DIFFERENT. so, so, different. but its all from the same thing! the same vague concept from an 6-7 year old smp!! isnt that fucking amazing? what we, the fandom have done with it, and how far weve bent it, and just.
the whole watcher thing is one of my favourite bits of ANY fandom i have ever seen. the sheer creativity of fandom really does surprise me sometimes.
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giggleeclown · 4 months
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My side of an art trade for the amazing @pocky-dragon !!!! 💕💕💕 thank you so much for partaking in the art trade with me, it was so much fun to draw!
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pan-perkozeq · 2 months
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@genocat get your four letter word thing up I'm waiting to finish this art trade JEJSBSNDKKS
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