puppet-master-iv
A Puppet on a String
Hi, I am the IV, the winner of the Asian Dueling Championship. If you're here, you're probably a fan of mine. I love to make sure my fans get the service they deserve, so please don't be shy. Drop me a line. ~ IV
Magic Anon Status: Normal
{Independant...
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costumingofkira:
“Let me drag him back down to hell…”
All cosplay pictures by artisticaise cosplay photography
#ooc#mun's cosplay#hasn't been on here in forever but thought i would share#cause i still love my baby
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costumingofkira:
I entered Arda Wig’s Spring Banner Contest!
You can vote for me here! Please do!
photo by: artisticaise cosplay photography
#ooc#mun's cosplay#this would mean the world to me because i worked so hard on this cosplay#please vote
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I, V
Fandom Meme || Accepting
It takes me forever to get to shit. Last weekend was very busy.
I - Has tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why
I have learned that there are two kinds of fandoms. “The Fandom” and “The Tumblr Fandom”. Quite frankly, I have a few “Tumblr Fandoms” I just can’t stand because of the way they act. I adore Tiger and Bunny with a passion but because of past experiences (like a while ago I would like to think things have gotten better by now) I do not RP in that fandom anymore and I don’t think I can bring myself to do it again any time soon. I took hate on one of my RP blogs (in the beginning of rping on tumblr) and one of the other RPers who rp’ed my character sent me a lot of crap for the way I roleplayed, and since she was a popular RP’er a lot of people jumped on me.
I also like to meekly poke my nose in the fairy tail fandom but the fandom has so many shipping wars I prefer to just stay on the side lines with that one. I also noticed a lot of Roleplayers won’t even give up a chance if you’re not caught up with the manga or the anime. (you watch the dub?! how dare you! It’s awful! catch up! (i like the dub so i do what i want))
V - Are you one of those fans who can’t watch anything without shipping
Nope. Normally it takes me a while to ship something in a series, because I need to see some form of chemistry. I have quite a few shows that I watch and have no ships for. Some of my favorite ships I have now only happened with development and poking around in the fandom. Some of my ships are the “they started off as a joke” ship and now they wreck my life.
#ooc#mun speaks#about the mun#meme: fandom edition#yuurivy#sorry this took so long but it is prefect for munday#munday
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repeat after me...
roleplaying is a hobby.
roleplaying is a hobby.
roleplaying is a HOBBY.
it’s OKAY if you take awhile to reply.
it’s OKAY if you can’t find the muse for a thread or ask right now.
it’s OKAY if you can’t find the muse for a thread or ask ever.
it’s OKAY to drop threads.
it’s OKAY to be selective when roleplaying.
it’s OKAY to ship, or to not ship, something.
it’s OKAY to miss a reply.
it’s OKAY to take a break when life outside of tumblr calls.
use the bathroom!!
take a shower!!
take a nap!!
go eat something!!
get a drink!!
take a break!!
do things you probably need to do but haven’t done because of roleplaying!!
DO NOT STRESS ABOUT ROLEPLAYING!! IT IS A HOBBY. FOR FUN. I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH.
#ooc#this is also why i poof every now and then#like i'm here#but i need to make dinner#so ya'll can wait
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Send my character a ★ and I’ll bold everything they feel toward your character.
I like you // I love you // You’re one of my best friends // You’re like family // You are family // I dislike you // I hate you // I’d kill you if I got the chance // I want you to like me // I’m scared of you // I would adopt you // I’d date you // I’d sleep with you // I’d marry you // I’m worried about you // You confuse me // You’re annoying // I pity you // I respect you // I trust you // I feel protective of you // I’d invite you with me to parties // I’d lend you my money // I’d borrow your money // You’re good-looking // I’m suspicious of you // I’m hiding something from you // You’re fun // You’re boring // I’m upset with you // You’re nice // You’re mean // I’m envious of you // You’re smart // You’re stupid // I look up to you // I think you’re a better person than me // I think I’m a better person than you // I want to apologize to you // I wish I’d never met you // I never want to forget you // I want to get to know you better
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# beecause why not
Send “#” for a RANDOM text.
__
[Text = Katio] “You really should enter a tournament one of these days. I need a challenge. They’re kinda boring.” [/text]
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Send “✆” for a MORNING text.
Send “✉” for a text that WASN’T SENT.
Send “☎” for a RUSHED text.
Send “⁇” for a DRUNK text.
Send “✿” for a SUGGESTIVE text.
Send “ø” for a LATE NIGHT text.
Send “✘” for a HATEFUL text.
Send “#” for a RANDOM text.
Send “@” for a SCARED text.
Send “&” for a LOVING text.
Send “%” for a CURIOUS text.
Send “ツ” for an EXCITED text.
Send “$” for an ACCIDENTAL text.
Send “♀” for a HEARTBREAKING text.
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|| Source ||
#Thomas Arclight#Michael Arclight#Christopher Arclight#Zexal#yugioh zaexal#v#iv#iii#arclight family#tron family#g! puppet master#g! I want to forgive you#g! precious brother
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Excuse me, don’t speak on things you don’t know. This is exactly why I use an alias when traveling the world. Reporters would have a hay day with my family of weirdos.
My whole family is officially gay.
#stoicallyscientific#v; crack#he's totally gay#I HC him pan but still#he's just in denial#therapy hasn't gotten to that part yet
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It was a river of emotions flooding his living room. Food growing cold, and child like man before him collapsed in a pit of self loathing and blame. He blamed himself for it all huh? He sent him off with that power on purpose, huh? His lips twisted into an odd smile as he reached down and forced the small body that was clung to his legs to the stand.
Tears. So many tears. Rolling down his cheeks, golden eyes over flowing as they struggled to look away from him. It was a mixture of fury, sorrow and guilt that swirled around at his core and caused his heart to crack. There was no way to hold it back any longer. There was no way to hold on to the carefully crafted control he’d had over his emotions.
His hands gripped the other’s shoulders tightly as his voice shook and his own face quickly became a mess of salty tears and buried regrets.
“When did you ever stop being the man you were? When did you stop being my father cause I want to know!”
His fingers clenched onto the other tightly as his words boomed and his voice broke. How could he never have seen just how broken their relationship actually was? They’d both been fighting their own demons for so long that they failed to ever look at each other clearly.
He’d been told so many times that he was so much like his father and that was why they didn’t get along, and he had refused to see the truth. The both of them - they were almost like mirror images of each other except that mirror had cracked and skewed the image of the two them so long ago.
Hands pulled back as he shook, a drawn breath attempted to calm himself once more but the result simply became with the younger man crying even harder than he had before. “You’ve always been the same man you were, the same Father I loved. Sure, you got a little misguided. Sure, went down a path you probably shouldn’t have - but you were being led blindly by something you didn’t understand. But this... but this...”
Fumbling as his hand rose to his eye and a finger touched against it gently, sliding the contact away to reveal the truth that was hidden by a simple piece of plastic. He looked his father dead on, as the tears continued to stream down his face like rivers.
“This is not your fault. I could have ran when the fire started. I could have just turned tail and saved myself, but I didn’t. I chose to stay there. I chose to stay in that heat and risk my life to save her. You didn’t make me do that nor did you know I would. Don’t you ever think for one second that this scar of mine is your fault. Because it’s not. I never blamed you for this back then and I don’t blame you for it now. You had no part in this, it’s my cross to bear and mine alone.”
The tears fell harder as he moved again, this time tugging the smaller man into his arms and to his chest as he hugged his father as tightly as he possibly could. How long had they been setting on these emotions, making everything stew and fester like an untreated wound?
“I don’t give a damn what you look like. You’ll always be my father. Then and now, dad. Nothing’s changed.”
…. What?! Byron hadn’t noticed that he stood up in front of his son, fists clenched and a rather overly horrified expression written in his face. Did he really just hear him blame himself for everything, that his failure was his own fault and those horrible things would have happened whether or not he existed in the first place? He couldn’t accept that reaction at all, no tolerance toward any of his sons when it came to self blame. Byron couldn’t handle it and his fists began to shake in anger - but mostly at himself for letting his precious child think these things.
“First of all,” he hissed, “your therapist is an idiot and feeds you incoherent and misjudged psychobabble. We must see things very differently then, my son, because every word you’ve just spoken to me is… i-it’s–” No. He didn’t want it to end up like this.
Thomas was certainly stronger than him. Tears welled up in his eyes and the shame was ripping his heart into pieces, and those now clouded eyes looked at the scar on his face. Tron’s mark of failure. Tron’s negligence and abuse.
It was so weak of him for his voice to crack and break, words stuttered as he forced himself to speak instead of crumple to the floor and sob. “You wouldn’t have pushed yourself so hard if I at least gave you a second glance, Thomas! All I did was shun and insult you, make you feel like you weren’t worth the effort or the attention. You would have never went to great lengths to hurt those people if I were the father I used to be, the man that you’ll never see again. This… this god damn child! And I’ll never be the person I was before it all went to Hell for what Doctor Faker did, and I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I can’t be the man I once was!”
The overwhelming feelings that boiled inside of him burst to the surface and it was too heavy for him. Byron crashed to his knees and as he fell, he gripped his son’s pants and hid his face in his lap but kept his lips separated, so that his shaken and choppy words could still be heard. “And that scar… the accident… I am the one who failed, not you. You didn’t know what would happen, I threw you into that knowing damn well what that card was capable of and I knew the outcome! I did it on purpose. I scarred your beautiful face and made your right eye blind, that scar is my misdoing, and I–” his voice broke as he choked, his frail frame trembling. “-I-I… I’m so sorry…. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry….” His words trailed off and he continued to mumble ‘I’m sorry,’ broken and sobbing into the fabric of his middle son’s pants.
#v; moving forward#notaspaceface#ow i hurt now#i did not make an icon just for this#i wouldn't do that you have no proof
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“ I apologize for the c r u e l things that I did
But I don’t r e g r e t one single word I said…”
_____________ ___________ _____________
|| Selective Independent Roleplay Blog for Thomas Arclight “IV” of Yu-Gi-Oh! ZEXAL ||
✭ — Multi fandom, AU and crossover friendly
✭ — Will rp any length. Capable of one lines to Novella; Novella preferred
✭ — 15+ years rp experience, 6+ years on Tumblr
✭ — 4+ years roleplaying this character
✭ — willing to do NSFW, only with muns 18+
✭ — Uses Icons
|| .:H o m e:. || .: A b o u t :. || .: R u l e s :. ||
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It was such a strange thing to hear his father speak to him like that. The smaller man came to set down on his couch next to him, plate in hand, and then his heart simply began to pour forth. It was needed, it was such a needed thing for the both of them to air out all the dirty laundry and finally be rid of the walls in their emotions that paralyzed them from acting as an actual father an son, however in that moment - that moment of his father’s weakness there was only one word that he could think to say.
“Stop.”
It was more than he could handle and while his mind was screaming in anger, there was a second voice within that was assuring him that while he was justified, he needed to calm himself before he lost control of himself. His father was trying and he couldn’t hold it against him. The man seemed to believe he was completely at fault for everything that happened, and was completely missing the piece of the puzzle that was his middle child’s unwavering devotion.
“Please stop acting like you held a gun to my head.” The words came out harsher than he intended to, as his anger slipped through the cracks ever so slightly. There was a pause, a breath and a moment where the younger simply sat in silence with his eyes closed while he focused on nothing more than the pace of his breaths.
“I did horrible things back then. Horrible, inhumane things. I hurt people. I almost killed a girl, and almost got myself killed.” His hands moved together as his fingers wove into a tangled pattern while he moved his gaze to his living room carpet, the malice and blame that should have been present in his tone, completely absent.
“You never forced me to do anything. There may have been a push or a nudge in the direction you wanted me to go, but I did everything of my own free will, Father.”
His expression shifted, it was obvious the conversation was upsetting for him, but at the same time it was apparent how much personal strength he was using to hold himself in composer. It was a striking difference to the child he was just those few years ago.
“Honestly I’ve been wondering how long it was going to take you to realize it, but I suppose my therapist was right and I have to tell you to your face.” There was another pause followed by a drawn breath meant to steady himself as he forced himself to have the will to speak the words he’d longed to say.
“Everything I did back then. All those horrible things. I don’t blame you for them. I never have. I did everything because I love you. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be proud of me, but I’ve always felt like I was your troublesome child. I don’t avoid you out of anger, Dad. I avoid you because I don’t feel like I’m good enough to look you in the eye.”
He clenched his hands together tightly as he forced himself to fight back the feeling of fear that was bubbling in the pit of his stomach. There. He’d said it. He’d finally just said what he’d meant to for so many long years. How would he look at him now? Would it be the same look of shame and disgust? Or would it go differently?
He swallowed hard with anticipation and fear. He just had to wait.
Now he was at a standstill, the clash of words and touch a comforting gesture that was taken at face value. His shoulders relaxed while sliding away from his seat from before, making his way to the couch to sit down next to his son. Byron’s front was facing him however his eyes were staring at the floor beneath them, eyes seeming so lost as he tried to pick himself up from where he fell before it all went to hell.
There he went, blaming himself for his father’s temper tantrum and emotional outburst. And, his son’s words of why he lived so close weighed heavily in his heart. Thomas was there, he was there for him even though he hardly ever contacted him. And for what? Not that he deserved any of this kind treatment or a show of affection and concern. It only made him feel worse that in that instant he plummeted to a ‘woe is me’ reaction, which was another major issue he had to work on.
“Thomas.” He uttered the name so softly in an attempt to set the mood he wanted, though fear caused his fingers to tremble around the plate of delicious smelling food he gripped onto.
“I… I have so much to say to you.” This was a ridiculously huge leap of faith, opening up his heart despite how afraid he was to be shot down. Those nightmares of his son laughing in his face and making fun of him, telling him he didn’t care for his remorse. “But I feel like my words would never be enough. There’s so much in my heart that you don’t realize, and I wanted to show you by just trying harder. I failed in that as well, making excuse after excuse like they were good enough.” The blonde teen chuckled bitterly, his eyes closing as the pain that shook his frame nearly became too much. “But I– I’ve been so selfish. So afraid to say anything, so self convinced that what I felt didn’t matter because of what I’ve done.”
#v; moving forward#notaspaceface#did you want your heart?#you never should have told me that you liked things that hurt
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//time to break hearts and do my drafts. I’m free for most of the day, so what a better way to spend the day then crushing people’s hearts?
#ooc#mun speaks#i went and saw deadpool with my boy#and i need to do the dishes and re-dye my hair#but other than that i'm free till like 7
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source
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For Anyone who wants to plot with me Post- Series, please consider the following:
v; moving forward
Thomas is 21 years old - four years post series.
Thomas still duels professionally. He travels all over the world to where ever his ‘career’ takes him.
He lives alone in a small one bedroom apartment; excluding his many fish, one dog and two cats.
Thomas sees a therapist once a week to help work through his issues and manage his bipolar.
He also keeps a journal to help him manage it as well and keep track of things.
Most of his earnings go to taking care of Micheal’s college tuition and anything else he may need for school.
Outside of dueling, Thomas is a very private person. He doesn’t keep many friends, and has no ‘relationship’. He is single and has no intention of changing it.
IV is a name he uses strictly for the dueling world. People in his private life all know his real name and he expects them to use it. (I.E. Ryoga, Yuma, Kaito, etc.)
Thomas has all the old pictures of his family, every where. They almost litter his apartment.
Thomas does not drive. He can’t in fact as he is blind on the right side. He hates public transport with a passion because Thomas hates being in public places that are super crowded.
I cannot stress the fact enough that Thomas Arclight and IV are two different mindsets for him.
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by 野糞
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