So, I thought you guys should know, that a few of us from a Discord I’m a part of engaged in email correspondence with Jen Cohn, and through that correspondence, we found out that she ‘likes the idea’ of Pharmercy.
Add this in conjecture to the fact that Lucie Pohl has been giving us hints on the low (via her likes on Twitter) and has told Mike Foble that she’s ‘on-board’ for Pharmercy, and you have both VAs quite possibly being on-board for the ship.
(Not to mention the fact that Irene Koh is also open to the prospect of drawing them ‘officially’ for Blizzard as well, and has posted a lot of Pharmercy art to her Patreon.)
The point is, there’s a lot of support and momentum going for this ship, especially with the current resurgence of Pharmercy in the meta as well.
One wonders if Blizzard will ever build on the momentum of it. Because after all, any smart company would try to capitalize on something so popular, instead of blatantly just ignoring it in favor of something else.
Just a friendly reminder: Don’t allow people to tell you who you are because of the games you play
Just because you play otome games doesn’t mean you are missing something in your current relationship.
Just because you play otome games doesn’t mean you don’t want a real relationship.
Just because you play otome games doesn’t mean you prefer 2D men over real ones.
Just because you play otome games doesn’t mean you have given up on real dating.
Just because you play otome games doesn’t mean you are hideous and desperate.
Just because you play otome games doesn’t mean you don’t deserve real love.
The games you play don’t affect anyone else. Don’t allow other people to tell you that you should be ashamed to play these games. Don’t allow other people to embarrass you for playing these games. If your significant other breaks up with you because you play these games, maybe they weren’t worth your time in the first place.
Seriously. Don’t give these people a second thought. They aren’t worth your time.
You deserve to be happy.
You deserve to play the games you want to play and be happy.
THEY ARE TELLING A DIFFERENT STORY WITH MALEC. HOLY SHIT. YES, WE GOT JACE BEING VERY HETEROSEXUAL AND WITH LOTS OF GIRLS THIS EPISODE, BUT UM, WAS THERE EMOTION? NO?? LIKE WHY IS EVERYONE LOSING THEIR SHIT OVER JACE SLEEPING WITH AND HANGING OUT AT A BAR WITH RANDOM WOMEN? I GENUINELY DON’T GET IT. WTF DOES JACE HAVE TO DO WITH MALEC? WE HAD THREE MALEC KISSES AND AN ALMOST KISS, WHICH FOLLOWED A REALLY BEAUTIFUL MOMENT BETWEEN THE TWO. WE HAD BOTH MAGNUS AND ALEC TALKING ABOUT THE OTHER TO SOMEONE THEY TRUST. WE HAD MAGNUS ADMITTING THAT HE IS VULNERABLE AND AFRAID OF LOSING ALEC. THE ONE THING WE DIDN’T GET WAS AN EXPLICIT SEX SCENE. SO YOU GUYS ARE COMPARING THAT TO JACE??? I AM LITERALLY IN AWE RIGHT NOW, BECAUSE I SEE ZERO CONNECTION BETWEEN THE TWO. JACE WAS AN EMOTIONLESS SHELL THIS ENTIRE EPISODE, AND SOMEHOW YOU’RE ANGRY THAT MALEC DIDN’T GET ENOUGH COMPARED TO HIM? “MALEC-MANIA” DOESN’T JUST MEAN THEM IN BED TOGETHER. WE DON’T EVEN KNOW IF THEY HAD SEX OR NOT. I CAN’T HONESTLY BELIEVE PEOPLE ARE COMPLAINING AND COMPARING THESE TWO VERY UNRELATED ASPECTS OF THE EPISODE. WTF. I’M ALREADY SO TIRED OF SEEING THIS BS ON MY DASH. I’VE TRIED TO BE CALM AND HAPPY AND NICE AND POSITIVE. BUT SERIOUSLY, CAN WE STOP ALREADY?
Remember when the Shadowhunters fandom was positive and happy and filled with love? Yeah, I miss that fandom.
(I’m not saying people can’t be upset that they were tricked into thinking there’d be a sex scene, but I don’t understand how people can relate this to Jace as if Jace wasn’t a mess this entire episode.)
Heck so. My sketchbook is full now. Yay! A lot of the art from it is not posted here but I believe that’s fine. Most of it is random doodles like this anyway. Oh!! And!! In the first picture there is a couple Drips doodles. Drips belongs to @bendy-and-the-askblog !! And like I’ve said many times you should go check them out! (If you couldn’t tell I really like their art;-;)
Also, Felix the cat!
(okay this kind of….like I just can’t angst with elucien apparently @valamerys be proud of me I blame you for this. Concept pinched from a tumblr post I can’t find but…yeah. Anyway.)
He has been warned about her, about this place. But those warnings are impossible to heed. The closer he draws the more he feels that this is right. Old instincts that whisper to run, to hide, to flee are replaced by the deeper instinct that sings in his bones.
The urge to come to this place, to her, has been driving him wild for days. He can’t eat. He can’t sleep. He can’t think past the pull in his chest that draws him to her. He doesn’t know if this is part of her magic. None of the stories have warned him about it, but none of the stories would ever be able to explain this feeling.
Nothing could ever explain this. The need to be with her. The ache in his chest that tells him that the world is wrong without her in it. The desperate ravaging screaming in his head that threaten to drive him mad unless he answers them.
He decided this morning that he doesn’t much care if this is part of her magic, part of her curse, to lure him into her trap for the sheer pleasure of killing him that he doesn’t care. This burning compulsion is going to make him lose his mind if he doesn’t yield to it soon. It’s worth it. Just one taste of her will be worth the death that follows.
His feet drag through the thick, wet sand. Sea water laps at his bare feet. Small stones and shells pepper them with cuts and the salt stings them but he carries on. He can hear the sharp cries of birds overhead, feel the sharp slap of wind against his face, trying to push him back, send him home, away from this place.
But all the while she calls to him. And he’s helpless to resist.
His fumbling fingers brush against the rough rock of the cave as he enters it, needing the sensation to ground him. His heart pounds in his ears, drowning out the soothing rush of the sea and the cries of the gulls. As he steps into the cave, the salt smell is replaced by what he thinks is the scent of soft, spring flowers…
Elain looks up from the small pond overflowing with plants that she was tending as magic tugs at her skin, warning of an intruder. No. No not again, not again, please not again.
They all tell tales of her. They say that she is a monster. They say that any who tries to slay her never return. That she keeps their stone corpses as trophies. It’s only half-true. Elain has killed every man who has entered her cave, spurred on by the folk stories and the hungry desire for glory, but she hasn’t wanted to. She’s wept over every one of them. She cries herself to sleep each night because of what they whisper behind her back: ‘monster, monster, monster’.
She never asked to be a monster. She never wanted to kill. She doesn’t want to hurt anyone. She just wishes to be left alone with her plants and her peace. Please, please…
The shuffling steps are echoing down the passage to her now, she can hear him approaching, can scent him, can’t deny his existence now. Standing Elain moves back, pressing herself against the furthest wall, her heart pounding, tears springing into her eyes. She doesn’t want to do this again, she doesn’t, but she can’t help it, can’t make it stop, she doesn’t have any control over this awful curse.
“Please!” She calls out, her voice trembling. She has to make it stronger, more commanding, then perhaps they wouldn’t think her weak, they wouldn’t think they stood a chance against her. “Please don’t come any closer, please just leave.”
“I can’t do that.” His voice is low, controlled, a little raspy, a little fearful, but steady and firm.
“You must!” Elain insists, “Please, whatever they promised you, it isn’t worth your life. Just go home, tell them you tried to slay me but couldn’t, none will doubt your bravery for coming here.”
“I have not come here to kill you.” Elain starts in surprise at that. No-one has ever come here for any other purpose. She is a monster, and monsters were made to be slain.
“Then why?” She demands. He’s still coming closer, he’ll be here soon, see her soon, and then there will be nothing she can do but bear witness to his death and honour him. “Surely it isn’t worth your life.”
“It is,” he says, his voice hoarse, desperate. For the first time, Elain feels something other than fear tugging at her chest and…”I have to, I have to meet you. It might kill me. But not meeting you, not knowing you, is killing me too.”
She starts, taking a step towards him, unable to help herself, “It’s you,” she whispers to him. The one she’s connected to. The one who keeps trying to draw her from this cave, draw her into killing hundreds just to try and find him. Her mate.
“Yes,” he whispers, understanding what she means, still slowly moving towards her, unable to resist. A pare of magnets pulled irresistibly towards her. She curses fate, curses the gods that made her into this thing and then tethered this poor man to her, dooming him.
“I know how it feels,” she says, brushing the tears that threaten to spill down her cheeks away with the back of her hand. “But please, you must resist, you must leave. Go home, please.”
Stubborn idiot. Elain balls her hands into fists.
“I don’t want to kill you too!” She cries in anguish, stamping her foot on the ground, not sure that she could bare that, killing him, feeling him die through this connection. “Please,” she pants, “Please don’t do this to me.”
“I can’t just leave,” he chokes, “I can’t bear it, I, please, please-”
“What’s your name?” She asks him, desperate to keep him talking while she tries to think of what to do, how to save him.
“Lucien,” is his reply and her heart aches for him. She wants him, she doesn’t even know him but she wants him, needs him. “Do you…Do you have a name?”
She starts in surprise. No-one…No-one has ever asked. No-one has ever called her anything other than ‘monster’ within the walls of this cave, this prison she fashioned for herself to keep them safe. She aches to hear something else, the illusion of kindness, a thing she’s nearly forgotten.
Selfishly, knowing it will only draw him closer, she whispers, “Elain. My name is Elain.”
“Elain.” She can hear the smile on his lips when he whispers her name and it wrecks her. She will give him everything, even if it destroys him, because she cannot refuse him, cannot refuse this. “Please, Elain, please let me meet you, please.”
Squeezing her eyes shut, praying he will do the same, she nods, then remembers that he cannot see her and whispers, “Very well.”
He moves towards her, fumbling, going slowly, and when she sees the tips of pale, delicate fingers on the black rock, she can’t help herself from taking hold of them, drawing him to her, to his death.
He’s tall, much taller than her, with long red hair he has bound in a thick braid down his back. His skin is pale white, dusted with freckles, his clothes are fine, cut to emphasise his slim, muscular build. And his eyes- Elain gasps, the hand not holding his covering her mouth in shock. His eyes are gone. Two empty black sockets, a deep scar tearing through one side of his face.
Elain starts crying. Tears flood down her cheeks, clogging her throat, her lungs, choking her. It’s been ten years, ten years since she was cursed, ten years since she’s looked upon any face that still had life, that could still smile down at her. Ten years since she’s had any company, any contact with someone she hasn’t left a corpse.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, clearly afraid, “Is it your power? Does it hurt? Should I-”
“Lucien,” she rasps, sinking to her knees, unable to keep herself standing. He kneels down with her, obviously confused, “I can look at you,” she sobs, “I can look at you.”
“I wish I could return the favour, dove, but unfortunately…” he gestures to his sightless eyes, smirking playfully at her.
Reaching out, still crying silently, she takes his hands and gently places them on her face, letting him feel her, explore her with his soft, deft fingers. Musician’s fingers, she’s quite sure.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers quietly, his thumb ghosting tenderly over her lips.
“You would say that even if I was covered in barnacles and mould,” Elain says, finding a hysterical little giggle bubbling from her chest.
“Naturally,” he says, fingers now examining the tips of her ears, the curve of her jaw, the shape of her cheekbones. “Elain,” he murmurs, growing serious, “Why am I not…I mean, why have you not…Is it because I’m your mate?”
Yes, she thinks, because only he could be her mate, could match her and be with her. But she cups his face in her hands and whispers, “It’s because you can’t see me,” she brushes the scar on his cheek, “I can’t hurt you, Lucien. I will never hurt you.”
He stiffens at her words and a noise like a choked sob bursts from his lips as he begins to tremble. A laugh bursts from her chest, and joy floods her for the first time in years. She lost her fiance, her family, her home, her life, everything on the day this curse claimed her. She never thought she would ever even speak with another person for longer than it took to beg them not to try and kill her, let alone have a partner. And now she has a mate, a mate who she will never lose.
Lucien’s throat bobs as he swallows, Elain’s face still cupped in his hands, her fingers tracing tenderly over the wound in his cheek. He had never thought he would be thankful for the day the brothers had taken his eyes from him. But now, with her, feeling her jubilation bursting through their connection like a firework, he is.
So he doesn’t stop himself when he surges for her, a little clumsy, and a little off-target. But she’s still laughing when she guides his lips gently to hers. He has never known such gentleness. He had laughed, a hollow, bitter thing, when he had realised that he was mated to a monster. Fitting, he had told himself, he must have been made for them. But Elain…
Elain is a monster more like him than his brothers. Broken and left in darkness, forgotten, abandoned, unwanted. But now…Now they have found the light again in each other. And so he lets himself kiss her, long and slow, letting them be swept up in the joy of finding each other, of finding this thing they never thought would be possible: acceptance.
okay you know what pisses me off? the fact that every other love interest kara has had, it has ended because of things that happen have even to her and mon-el
with adam, she didn’t think it was meant to be because they were always interrupted (via kidnapping or other means). with james, it was the same damn thing. they were getting interrupted constantly. that led her to think that the universe was telling her not to do it, that she wasn’t ready and needed to focus on her
now, i’m not knocking that. i’m knocking the fact that that same shit happens with mon-el. their first kiss was under a poison/drug induced mon-el who pretended it never happened. their other “flirtations” were interrupted or kara showed obvious disinterest. and their latest “thing” was interrupted again. but kara will bend over backwards to make this work, right? because he’s basic straight cis white boy #3 and that’s who she’s meant to be with because oh don’t the cw just love their basic white boys who give nothing to the plot but take everything from the leading ladies and the men of colour who should be getting the screen time (and the girl), and also the lesbians
these are just a couple of the times i personally have asked inclusionists for sources on their claims that exclusionists are doing random nasty shit. i have never gotten sources on any of these, and never even got replies on half of them
if y’all really wanted to protect the people you claim exclusionists victimize, you’d be giving us sources and links to call these people out with, not vagueing about them and blaming us for doing nothing about it