A Young Gay Dragon Being Forced To Explain To His Dad Why Hes Only Kidnapping Princes

A young gay dragon being forced to explain to his dad why he’s only kidnapping princes

okay but "the symbolism is Real and Trying to Kill You" is my favorite kind of symbolism

OKAY BUT NOW I ALSO DEMAND THERE IS A MUSICAL EPISODE. WE NEED A MUSICAL EPISODE!!!! A SPELL-INDUCED MUSICAL LITTLE PLOT, PLEASE!!! I'VE BEEN BEGGING FOR THIS SINCE THE "ONCE S'MORE, WITH FEELING(S)" COMIC.

I need Callum to have a well-executed and heartfelt "I want" song. I need Ezran to sing his doubts aloud while Corvus plays the cello. I need Soren and Corvus to perform a duet and have a cute little ballad. I need Rayla to finally express her inner world in a raw emotional solo. I need Claudia to breakdown when she hears the words as they come out of her mouth. I need Janai to sing over a montage that gives us inside into Sunfire history. I need Zubeia to have her own sorrowful tune while she looks at the heroes. I need Zym to then join in and make it hopeful. I need Opeli to have a complex heavily choreographed number she is extremely annoyed at performing and she is just begging to the spell to be ended between her lines. I want Terry to point out how completely unseasonable it is to be signing but noticing he's happy to be doing it anyway. I need it. Please.

Link

Oh it's gonna get interesting.

Leola is a unicorn

Is no one going to point out that the Startouch Elf we see from behind seems to only have ONE horn?? And is therefore a... unicorn. Ever since we learned Leola was "rare among her own kind" I thought she might be a one-horned Startouch elf, and this 'screencap' looks like confirmation. Of course it might look like that because the image is cut, but the horn does look like it's centralized, does it not?

I think of the Arya chapters in clash of kings really showing the worst of what the war can do to the smallfolks and in the middle of it, we have Arya being incredibly traumatized but also making sure to save people (even the worst criminals) and protecting younger little girls and not abandoning kids who are (probably) mortally injured and deciding someone else who also had an horrifying traumatizing thing happened to them because of the people she is being traumatized by should get justice first, before her own safety, and I cry.

I love Arya so much and her clash of kings chapters are all very difficult to read but they are so good.

It didn't change me, it made me. The fact that I was weird and queer and that my interests didn't align with that of other kids is a material reality. My interests still don't align with that of several people and that makes me uninteresting and sometimes even off putting to them. That's fine, why wouldn't it be. To burst the bubble the op refers to and be "accepted" I would have to not be myself, and that is not a price I'm willing to pay. I never was.

People (and kids) should always be respectful of each other, but we are bound to be guided by our interests, and if your interests an behaviors diverge from the norm, it's to be expected you'll be less frequently liked and celebrated... If you're not being bullied or harassed, why is that a problem? Why should that fuck someone up?

I'm not saying it's easy. Living is never without suffering, even for the well-adjusted, and it gets harder for the ill-fitting. But I reject the narrative that being the odd one out changes our trajectories. It makes them!! If most people won't, than it's up to us to seek out like-minded persons and to celebrate ourselves. Being faithful to your own interests makes for a beautiful journey, every time.

People underestimate how much it fucks you up to be subtly excluded as a kid. I would try to talk to my classmates and be met with disinterest or annoyance. The one friend I had, who I clung to and nodded along to his every word, had other friends he liked just as much or more. And his other friends didn’t care for me at all.

I look back at pictures from the time and see how separated I was from them. I remember knowing I was different. I remember posing questions about the world to the girls playing next to me and realizing that they had never asked the same ones to themselves. That the ways we thought couldn’t be more different.

I kept myself amused with my own fanatical stories and musings in my head. I would wander the playground on a circular path, imagining a friend and being sorely disappointed when it didn’t feel as real as I’d hoped.

There was a bubble separating me from everyone else, thin, and nearly invisible, but with a pearly sheen you could catch under the right conditions. I knew it was there, they knew it was there, and it changed me