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pedgito · 1 day

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𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 | Lucien Flores x reader

summary | this is for @iamasaddie's kinky may writing challenge, a mix of a kink i haven't tried writing before and character i adore dearly but know next to nothing about. this was really fun to try out and my first fic back in almost four months, cheers to finally being back ig? may we christen it with smut.

content warning | heavy smut, literally pwp (there's some backstory if you squint), sensory deprivation, safe words, some food consumption as foreplay, some bodily fluid exchange/consumption, gags/restraints/ect and all that good stuff, oral (m/f receiving), p in v unprotected sex, established relationship, lucien is still a relatively blank character so none of this is canon (just how my silly little brain likes to imagine him rn)

word count — 4.7k

The rain is quiet against the apartment window, a soft and slow pattering that matches the slow beat of your heart. You can’t see it, not in your current position as Lucien leans his knee into the mattress behind you and the bed dips, warm fingertips brushing over your cheeks and the shell of your ear as he carefully and methodically secures the blindfold in place with a knot that feels secure. He brushes his fingertip over your nose as he nitpicks and mumbles something under his breath, fixing the black material until your vision is completely hindered.

“Princesa,” His voice is a soft caress, “everything alright?”

Constant check-ins, reassurances, comfortability and security—it was all you felt with Lucien. Things had clicked with him so easily. It made your heart drop into your stomach with the first realization, unlucky with love to a fault that never let up. He had eyes on you from the moment you first met and they never drifted.

A mid-life crisis. You were younger, a subordinate under his wife, and unattainable by most standards and rules. Fetching coffees, keeping Rose on schedule and reminding her of all the never-ending events she kept yes-ing—Lucien and her had long been divorced but a chance encounter at an industry mixer had landed you here. A routine you’ve both upheld for the last six months and it felt real. You had solid ground to stand on with Lucien and he never diminished how you were feeling, even if you felt so embarrassingly naive about things.

And the sex had never steadily climbed and crescendoed—Lucien liked to ravish and devour in a way that had you holding your breath and helped him realize very quickly how overwhelmed you could get. It wasn’t necessarily bad, but there was too much outside distraction—him, the droning buzz of traffic outside of his apartment, the distant muffled television a room away that Lucien always forgot to turn off before settling down for the evening with you.

You needed focus, grounding—given Lucien’s illustrious history and Hollywood rumors and all the things you’ve heard from around town and within the social networks you shared, he seemed like the furthest thing from a good choice.

But, the care and attention he showed you drowned it out entirely.

Hell, he gave you a key to his apartment within a month and you’ve never seen anyone else visit him—he doesn’t host parties here, he doesn’t even let his ex-wife set foot past the threshold. It was your own little sanctuary.

You lift the blindfold slightly and ruin the work he’d done to get it just how he wanted, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Hmm?” He’s got an eyebrow half-raise, features relaxed but masking an obvious worry that he didn’t want to harp about. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good.”

Lucien tilts his head, “How good?”

Just good. Kinda good. I’m only telling you I’m good so you don’t worry about me.

His thumb rubs at your chin and the thoughts float away and you allow yourself to live in the moment, reaping in the undivided attention this man showed you.

“Really good.” You reply salaciously, using the angle to your advantage as he towered over you on the bed, foot dragging along the inside of his thigh and pressing into the back of it until he lost his footing and slipped further into the deep pockets of the comforter. “Better if you start touching me like you kept promising over dinner.”

“Eager today?” Lucien teases as he crawls until he’s found his way between your legs, resting on his outstretched palm as he fixes your blindfold and darkness floods your senses again.

“Game recognizes game.” You retort, allow Lucien to use a guiding hand to settle you against the plush headboard, buttons pulling in on the fanned, velvet material. “I really need this today.”

There’s a soft shuffling and the familiar clink of expensive jewelry scattering against the bedside table—it was the forewarning that Lucien was prepared to make a mess of you, hammering that final nail in the coffin as he drags three fingers in a harmonious unison over your clothed pussy, the thin shirt you were wearing rubbing against the inside of his forearm as he applies just enough pressure to have you chasing after it when it fades away.

“I know, baby.” His voice drips like a warm honey, sticking to your skin and making you sweat. “Say your word.”

“Luce, we do this every time. I know it, we’re good.”

Silence lingered and you cleared your throat, the dip of pressure in the mattress between your legs from his hand, not allowing himself to touch you until you repeated it back to him.

You nod, “Peach.”

The small tick of a fond memory shows on his face, lips curling up at one side. It happens every time and Lucien knows it was meant as a playful jab in the beginning, but it quickly became something so sacred.

You've only used it once and never out of fear or miscommunication—Lucien understood your limits and liked to push when you agreed, but one too many orgasms by his tongue as he buried his head between your thighs had eventually became too much and it was said through a shaky laugh, yanking at his curls until he surfaced.

Lucien, almost instantly, is there—mouth pressed against the barrier of your underwear, fingers curling around your thighs and spreading you apart with ample pressure, exploring your skin like uncharted territory, a new exploration. Like he hadn’t been going down on you for the last several months and already mapped out every inch of your body, knew all the shortcuts and quick routes.

The wetness soaked your underwear, the fleshy fat of his tongue rubbing hot and lapping at the heady taste of your arousal with a sigh before his fingers curl around the edges of your underwear where they cling to your hips, moving them down your legs and suddenly, despite being surrounded by darkness, the feeling of exposure is still daunting. Every time.

“Tell me about your day.”

Then he’s licking a slow stripe down your center and you’re curling at the sudden touch, but quickly relaxing as he settles in, letting your fingers rest back in his soft curls, using your other senses while they are still available. Your mind wanders and wonders, thinking about the expertise and dexterity of his tongue. How if he really wanted you to come, he would have you there in less than a minute, but he was going easy.

“Boring,” Is all you have, “Most of the same.”

He’s just trying to fill the air, giving you a solid distraction outside of his filthy mouth. It’s not exactly his aim to bring up work during sex, especially when it’s in relation to his ex-wife.

“And dinner? How was it?”

Lucien purposefully flicks his tongue over your clit and you gasp softly, tugging at the strands of hair under your fingertips and you feel a hand rub at your lower back as it arches, a tender touch that you give into.

“Perfect,” It’s the truth, eternally grateful for his choice of personal chefs, because as much as you adored Lucien, he was not to be let into a kitchen, “delicious, as always.”

Lucien groans, deep and low against your pussy as his mouth sucks greedily at you, feeling his fingers inching closer and closer to your core, like he’s trying to take things slow for now, but the impatience is winning out. They’re tight at the apex of your thighs currently and just bordering on discomfort when he squeezes every time you moan or sigh or make even the smallest reaction to his mouth.

“R-right there,” You direct, canting your hips up despite his strong grip, “fuck, just—yeah, right there.” Lucien has always responded well, course-correction and sensing the way your body pulls him in, thighs squeezing around him as he dips a finger inside of you in time with his tongue, working you over mercilessly.

The lack of sight is making everything that more intense, searching for something to ground you, using your grip in Lucien’s hair, your other hand placed over his where it’s curled around your thigh as an anchor, feeling him speak against your cunt, filthy words you can’t quite catch but if you could see him, he would be sporting a shit-eating grin.

The heat in your stomach coils, feeling the sensation down your spine as you whimper, one final swipe of his tongue over your clit within the immense build up of tension has you brokenly moaning out, “Come—fuck, I’m c-coming, Luce.”

Lucien laps at your greedily, prying your thighs apart forcefully.

“Shit—” His voice encourages, “—such a sweet fuckin’ pussy. Makes me fuckin’ crazy. Need you to taste it, baby.”

He’s already moving up your body as your lips part, your tongue dipping blindly into his mouth and tasting the headiness of you on his tongue, a sweet tang that isn’t unwelcomed. You don’t often make it a habit to kiss him after he’s gone down on you—he’s often messy, face a mix of saliva and you, smeared all over his chin, but the frenzy in his voice is hard to deny, giggling softly into his mouth as your teeth graze his bottom lip.

You’re still effectively blind, rubbing your palm over the inseam of his silk lounge pants, pulling at the delicate string that was struggling, tight against the length of his cock. Lucien grunts into your neck at the touch and widens his knees against the mattress, biting playful at your skin to soothe it moments later. His hands rub at your weak thighs, still shaking post-orgasm and you can’t help but be eager despite how much energy Lucien had worked out of you.

“Sit up,” You pointedly squeeze at his shaft and lean up, feeling the movement of his body follow. “—my turn.”

Lucien huffs in amusement, shuffling back on his knees as you sit upright. You reach for your blindfold but his hand engulfs your own, “Not yet.” He orders calmly.

You relinquish control to his guidance and sit on your calves as he places your hands flat against his bare chest, just above the softness of his stomach, feeling his heartbeat under your palms. “Like this.”

“But, I want to see you for this.” It’s nearly a beg, more of a test to see how easy he gives into your wants, but he chuckles in response and taps at your chin once. So, that was a no.

Despite how quickly he got off from a single look, his cock stuffed into your mouth and his hand gripping hard at the root of your scalp—maybe he was actually doing himself a favor.

Your shoulders slump slightly, barely noticeable but you smile and trail your fingertips down his abdomen, featherlight as the muscle flexes underneath your touch and they hover around the hem of pants as you lean forward and aim to press a kiss to his sternum, his chest, down and down until you feel your lips brush against the waistband.

“Take it out,” He encourages, “wanna watch you.”

You pull at the waistband with your teeth playfully, curious of just how quickly you're driving Lucien up the wall with the way you're acting, the material catching over his stiff, hard cock and allowing your hands to help you get them the rest of the way down.

Lucien is kind enough to be a guiding hand, thumb pressed against the side of your jaw as he guides you forward, feeding the head of his cock past your lips, tongue dragging along the tip and under, the brush of foreskin like soft, warm velvet.

And you have him in the palm of your hand like this, despite how helpless you must look. It only takes a few minutes before Lucien is louder, mouthier with his words and harsh with his matching thrusts into your mouth.

Frustrated, Lucien pulls at the knot on your blindfold hastily, the soft grunts of his impending orgasm loud in your ears, feeling so starved of sight that when the blindfold falls away and your eyes open and you’re overwhelmed with light, ignoring the fact that Lucien’s cock was nearly pressing against the back of your throat.

But, it’s quickly nulled out by Lucien, towering over you and blocking most of the harsh fluorescence that drown out the room around you, eyes falling close again despite being free of the blindfold as you take him until your nose is pressing against his groin, the fingers resting at the back of your neck squeezing harshly.

Selfishly, he wants to keep you here for a while longer. A few minutes, a few hours.

“Relajate,” Lucien forces out, his mouth hanging open on the word as you pull away, now wide-eyed and wiping away the string of spit that connects you to him, “there’s no rush.”

You smirk at his words, grinning up at him before you lick at the head of his cock, wrapping your hand around his shaft as you respond, “For you, maybe. But, I want you to fuck me.”

Lucien’s fingers dance along the shell of your ear, drifting down the column of your neck until his palm covers the expanse of it before gripping firmly, a soft gasp ripping from your throat as he forces you to straighten, leaning down into your space.

“Slow, princesa,” Lucien demands, “Or you’ll regret it later.”

As if that didn’t already intrigue you enough, you nod subtly and return his mischievous grin.

Slow is what you give him, long strokes as you circle your tongue around the head of his cock, occasionally dipping your head down to lick the underside of his shaft, too dangerously close to his balls, taut from how obviously he was straining to hold off, his usually perfectly quaffed hair sticking to his forehead and every which way.

There is no wondering—you could do this all day if you wanted, bringing him right to the edge but never quite falling, like he enjoyed doing to you, a shared pastime you’ve explored a few times but clearly not enough—because eventually you just get impatient.

Thankfully he seems to understand, nodding as your lips hover near his cock, playful kisses pressed against his pubic bone and scattered around until you finally decide to swallow him down, a few minutes later and he’s coming down your throat, eyes watering at the force but his eyes are locked on your own and you swallow on instinct, taking a sharp breath when he finally pulls back, seemingly just as wrecked as you were a half hour ago as he slumps into the bed, landing on back beside you, his hand rubbing over your knee tenderly.

“Are you up for a snack?”

You look at him quizzically, bemused at his question.

“Is that code?” You tease, fingers scratching at his overgrown stubble beard, “Should I be worried?”

“No, I’m hungry,” Lucien laughs gruffly, groaning as he turns on his side and slips off the bed, walking naked to the door and out of the room casually, coming back into the room with a sizeable plate of cut fruit and you grin, his heel forcing the door closed behind him. “See?”

He offers the plate up as proof as he sets it at the bedside table, though his fingers linger near the closed drawer a few centimeters beneath it. And you know where things are heading, the routine isn’t always the same, but Lucien liked to cover most, if not all the bases on nights where he was really needing the distraction. It seemed to be one of those nights, watching as his fingers dipped inside the drawer to grab the wrist restraints that hooked to the center of his headboard, a soft material that helped with comfort but made it damn near impossible to slip out if you really wanted to while your hands were hooked up.

But, that’s what Lucien wanted. The ability to trust that he would know your limits or that you would trust him enough to react to the safe word if you ever, for any reason, needed to use it.

“Oh—” Your gaze lingers and Lucien rubs the material in his hands.

“This alright?” He wonders, though the glint in your eye is enough of an answer.

You laugh softly through your nose and take the binding in his hand, slipping your wrist through the loops, leisurely scooting back until you hit the headboard, raising your arms above your head, “You tell me?”

Lucien chews absently at his bottom lip as he takes a rogue bite out of one of the strawberries on the plate before leaning onto his knee against the mattress, securing the restraint into place. A small latch that was also accessible to you if needed. He leans down quickly and you’re unprepared for the suddenness of it but he presses against you in a slow, sloppy kiss that leaves you chasing after the sweet juice that lingered in his mouth, mixed with the glass of malt whiskey he’d had earlier.

“Blindfold too?” You ask curiously.

Lucien shakes his head distractedly and takes his seat beside you on the bed, facing in the opposite direction so you’re both facing each other. The lack of clothing should feel distracting, but you’re too focused on his face, watching as he carefully bunches up the leaves on a strawberry and presses it to your lips, tongue curling around it and biting into it with a soft crunch.

‘What’s with the food?” You ask with a slightly furrowed brow, food stuffed in your cheek as you chew, “Not that I’m complaining but…this is…”

“Baby, relax,” He notices the tensing of the muscles in your forearm, nodding in the general direction—you hadn’t realized how hard you were curling your hands into fists until he pointed it out, “—remember the new assistant I hired?”

Another bite and the strawberry is done for, Lucien’s finger following as he wipes away the mess of juice around your bottom lip, savoring it for himself as he presses his thumb against his thumb and sucks and if he sees the way your thighs inch together, he doesn’t say anything.

You hum in acknowledgment and chew at the fruit, remembering the fresh-faced and terrified young man who Lucien had given a shot to after firing his old assistant—the embezzling funds was a problem, but he also insisted that he needed a fresh start, but you didn’t think he meant that fresh.

“I was craving it,” Lucien shrugged, “He went and picked up a bunch of shit.”

“Craving it,” You mince the words and Lucien chuckles, noticing your pointed gaze, “—for a sex thing, clearly.”

Caught. Sort of.

Lucien was big on trying new things—it was harmless, but the way he had tore into a peach during the picnic luncheon at for the acting agency both he and Rose worked under, eyes locked on you as he split it in half and shared the other half with you, less than careful about the way he cleaned up the juices on himself and you, finding yourself unexpectedly drooling over him in one of your less than finest moments. It was either the delicious fruit or an oral fixation. Maybe both.

He shoved a slice of kiwi between his teeth and leaned forward, pressing the fruit into your mouth and following with his tongue, devouring you into a kiss that has you whining quietly into his mouth, pulling away as you leaned forward to chase after him, chewing at the fruit in annoyance as you slumped back.

“Play nice, princesa.” Lucien teases.

“I am,” You retort with a sharp bite in your town, “you are making me wait.”

Lucien takes the ringlet slice of pineapple and squeezes it over your bare chest, down the valley of your breasts and you gasp at the sudden change in temperature against your hot to the touch skin, eyes snapping to the liquid traveling to your belly button.

“Lucien!”

You shriek, watching as he tossed the mangled fruit aside and made his ascent, licking from your belly button to the junction of your neck in one go, hovering over you with a devilish smile.

“If you don’t fuck me right now—” You gritted through clenched teeth and he presses his forehead against your own, giving you nowhere to hide as he stares you down, “I swear to god, Luce—”

“You trust me, right?”

“Stupid question,” You retort, nudging him back with your nose, “of course.”

Lucien hides the bemused expression on his face as he looks away, leaning over the side of the bed for a couple items that are out of your line of sight but quickly come into view as he lays them against your stomach, his thighs slotted underneath your own, taut muscle rubbing against your skin.

“Thought we could,” He separates them out carefully along your abdomen, “try a few at once.”

A gag—familiar and frequently used, black leather around a silicone black ball. A different blindfold, more like a sleep mask—it looked like Lucien’s sleep mask, actually. He could use the traditional one he tends to stick with but it seems he’s aiming for comfort here, fingers tracing along the last item with a raised brow.

“Ear buds? Really, Lucien? Headphones?” You giggle softly, “You want me to listen to music while we—”

“No, no—” Your laughter is infectious and he chuckles too, “baby, they’re just noise canceling.”

“Oh?” Your wrist yanks in interest before you realize you’re still restrained.

“If it’s too much, we don’t have to.” Lucien is very clear about that, fingertips pressed into the sheets beside your hips.

“You really like when I give over control, don’t you?” You tease playfully.

“Como siempre.” He says softly before leaning down to nip at your breasts, eyes flicking up at you.

“Okay, yes. But—” You look up at your hands, bound but not uncomfortable, “maybe no blindfold. I’ll keep my eyes closed but I want to see you. I like being able to see you.”

Lucien nods in agreement, a slow and treatours pace he takes as he retreats, tongue dragging down the center of your body and still tasting slightly of citrus. He smirks at your obvious squirming before doing away with the blindfold and allowing himself to get everything else in order.

The gag comes first, a small muffled grunt as he tightens the strap around the back of your head, adjusting it until you give him a solid nod. It helped that despite your inability to communicate verbally that Lucien had created a way for you to rid yourself of your wrist restraints whenever everything felt a little too much but you weren’t worried about using your safe word, a small latch connected to the metal chain that linked you to the headboard, easily accessible. And then the headphones, an odd experience to say the least—you can’t imagine what kind of money Lucien wasted on these because they immediately drown out all noise, the small buds resting in your ears and relatively out of sight.

It feels ridiculous, but when Lucien speaks and you can’t hear, your heart races with an anticipation you’ve never felt before. Exhilaration, more like.

You have no other choice than to watch—watch as Lucien settles comfortably back, kneeling as he runs his fingers along the underside of his cock and down to his balls, cupping them and rolling them around leisurely, your eyes watching every single movement, teeth baring down gently around the ball as he fists him, fingers dragging over his shaft and working himself up quickly, his chest slightly flushed from a mix of your previous activities and now, his eyes never settling on one piece of your body for too long.

You communicate through nods and eye contact, feelings incredibly vulnerable in the moment, watching as Lucien pressed himself inside of you with slow intention and you swear you can hear the deep exhale he forces out through his nose as it flares before he settles and gives you no time at all to prepare, a small gasp escaping you as your finger tighten around the slack in the strap connection your wrist cuffs to the bed, a slow but deep snap of his hips that shatters your focus, back arching into his touch as his fingers run along your spine and dig in, gripping you tight, practically sitting in his lap with the angle he has you held at.

“Mi vida,” He sighs, knowing you can’t hear him, “mi vida, mi vida, mi vida,” growing quiet with every utterance of it, “too perfect for me, baby.”

The vibration of his voice is pressed against your collarbone, his nose dragging along the junction of your neck and you’re so curious of what he’s saying, but you try not to let your mind wander—not that he allows much of that, gradually switching the pace to something stronger.

You wished you were stronger than Lucien liked to give you credit for, but you do find that your impatience eats away at you, coming in short whines and pleading looks and Lucien catches your gaze, eyes soft and watery.

He’s breathing out in short grunts through his mouth and you can see his nose scrunch up as he groans, fingers digging into your skin, squeezing tight at your hips—you can’t do it anymore, reaching your fingers up to grasp at the latch keeping your arms hoisted up, falling back in a heap with Lucien pressed against your chest, hastily slipping your hands out of the binding.

Lucien catches on quickly, working the gag off and tossing it aside, hearing it clink heavily against a nearby object but neither of you bother looking and quickly discarding the headphones on the nightstand, his forearms coming around your head to barricade you in.

You’ve never felt more safe.

“Pobrecita, come on,” Lucien coos, “ask for it, yeah? You want me to touch you?” Lucien moans heavily against your skin, your own hands twisting it his hair, fingers curling gently around the back of his ears, “Want me to make you come with my cock inside you? Is that what you need?”

“Yes,” You whine softly, “touch me—please, just touch me.”

He doesn’t move quick enough, finding that your hand quickly searches for his own, pressing it between your bodies and his fingers know you, working like muscle memory as he circles your clit a combination of his middle and ring and it’s nearly instantaneous, a mix of built up tension and desperate need for release. Your fingers pinch at the skin of his neck as you come, pulling the hair at the nape of neck and breathing in a sharp gasp, mouth hung open in silence as your eyes squeeze shut.

“That’s it, baby.” Lucien breathes quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to your breast as you come, eventually finding your lips and kissing you thoroughly, silencing your weak moans, chest heaving deeply in the aftermath as he pulls back, nothing he’s on the edge himself.

“I want you in my mouth again,” You sound desperate, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze from where he towers over you, fists gripping the sheets, “wanna taste us together, baby.”

Lucien rises suddenly, one palm pressed against the headboard as he grips his cock with the other, quickly spilling over your stomach, a sigh punches from his chest as he comes down, flush with a slight embarrassment at how easily it was for you to work him up.

“Or not,” You say through a tired laugh, soft and airy, “too much?”

“Never.” Lucien assures, brow furrowing in amusement as he drags a finger through the mess he made, bringing it to your mouth and allowing you to suck, lick, and make an over the top and unnecessary show as you swallow his cum and Lucien feels his cock twitch between his legs, despite how tired his body felt.

“Jesus, princesa,” He laughs, “—greedy tonight?”

You mirror his actions, bringing your own finger into the mess before pressing it into his mouth—and Lucien opens with a lust-drunk grin, capturing your wrist in a tight grip and licking off his own spend from your finger.

“Absolutely.”

And thank god, because your night was far from over.

↝ beta: @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

↝ divider credit: yours truly.

#lucien flores x reader #lucien flores x you #lucien flores x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #my writing #little lady kinky may #lucien flores #pedro pascal

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days

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The Sticking Point 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, possible violence, illness, death, bullying, ableism, and other elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are sent in the place of your ailing sister to marry a stranger. (Regency AU)

Character: Loki

Note: I'm moving tomorrow.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The tension turns roiling. Even in such airy halls, you cannot escape it, not that you venture very far from your rooms. It seems with each interaction, your relationship with your fiance only grows more fraught. You needn’t wonder why. It’s the very same reason your own father regards you with derision. You’re defective, less than what he hoped for.

You sit in the window seat, looking over the greenery that reflects Jade Garden’s title. It’s a home anyone would covet and yet it feels as a penitentiary might. These walls are unyielding and the isolation suffocating.

Your visions drifts into the distance as the leaves turn to green smears blending into the dimming blue of the sky. You close your eyes and turn your head straight, leaning against the wall as you hook your arms around your legs.

A banquet. It’s less than a proper debut. You’re not certain anyone would be expecting you, or even know who you are. Will they be surprised when they hear your father’s name?

There are things you know. Things you must ready yourself for. Certainly, there will be jeers, mocking whispers, and errant giggles. Just the same as anyone ever reacted to you. Even the farmhands would echo your speech and laugh bawdily. It hardly matter’s your a lord’s daughter when you sound so ridiculous.

You hang your head and sigh. It isn’t just one banquet, it is the beginning of a lifetime of events. You will not only face this one night, but many anon. You will be the one they speak of behind their hands and the joke at the card tables.

You stand, made restless by your dread. The window darkens with the evening’s arrival. Doreen raps at the door and leaves a tray of supper. You pick at it but don’t eat much. You must keep yourself busy so your mind is not.

You go to your chests. You will need Doreen to unpack these soon. It’s as if the longer you leave them full, the less assured your fate. You might still strap them up and flee.

You know that isn’t truly an option.

You take out a gown the shade of cooked pumpkin with an overlay that lends it a bronzish hue. The bodice is trimmed with an eyelet effect and the hem of the cap sleeves and skirt finely threaded with beads. You lay it out on the chaise and find a pair of slippers to go with it and ribbon for your hair decorated with black onyx and brass.

If Edith could see you then. It should be her in your place. That thought rings louder and louder, bolstered by the constant disapproval.

You back away from your attire, spinning so you won’t have to look upon it. You never thought to miss home so much. Not your parents, you’re certain they hardly grieve your absence, but for the familiarity, for the simple walls and memories. Edith is there, even gone, you know you would see her in every cushion and every corner.

You go to the door and listen. As silent as ever. You emerge into the corridor and make careful progress on the pads of your feet. You come to the top of the stairwell and peer down on the foyer. For all it’s beauty, this place is rather grim.

You descend and let your eyes lead you. You take in every ornament, every statue, every door trim, and every tile of the floor. You want to know it all. You don’t want to feel so lost.

You find your way along to the sunroom. Upon your approach, the door opens and you falter. A lithe figure emerges. You press yourself to the wall, unready for Loki’s appearance. He has a snifter of liquor in hand as he glowers in the light of a lantern in his other.

He steps towards you and pauses, lifting the light higher to cast over you. His breath escapes him derisively. He lowers the lantern and sniffs.

“Like a rat, you skitter incessantly,” he remarks.

“My Lawd,” you push away from the wall and angle away from him.

“I am speaking to you. Do not go until I give leave to,” he demands.

You stop and face him again, hands meeting in apprehension.

“This banquet business,” his nostrils flare, “I will not be humiliated. Not as you have tonight.”

“My Lawd, I have been twained in etiq—etiqwette,” you insist.

He scoffs, “your manners hardly bother me. Certainly you might have some grain of awareness.”

You seal your lips. He’s said it plainly, as you have. He might be able to close his ears to your impediment but it is with you always.

“Perhaps you might keep your words to a minimum,” he advises, “select them wisely.”

You stare at him, cheeks fiery and eyes tinging, “If you would wather, I might make an excuse. A sudden malady, my lawd. I’d hate to stain your chawacter.”

His eyes roll to the side and his features sharpen, “more would be said were I to appear without my betrothed after my mother’s promises.”

That he has referred to your nuptials is not so nice as it should be. He speaks to it as a sentence. You look him in the face.

“It won’t eva go away,” you say.

“Hm, I only need get through the wedding night,” he retorts and you can’t help but wince.

You swallow, your hurt turning bitter. “As do I.”

His head tilts and he squints. He lets out another snort, “pardon?”

“My sista would’ve hated you,” you whisper. “You did not desawve to know haw.”

“Be wary,” he steps closer.

“You make an enemy of me, not I you,” you lift your chin.

He’s silent. He shifts even closer. So near, you have to keep from wilting away. You stare back at him defiantly, heart beating.

“You do not know yet what it is to have me as an enemy so you best mind your mannaws,” he mocks your cadence with his last word.

Your lip trembles as he green eyes sparkle like dark emeralds in the lantern lights. Your chest is a flurry of hurt and anger. What have you ever done to him, or anyone, to make them so spiteful? You swing your arm against his to knock the snifter from his hand, sending a splash of alcohol across the wall and and his vest. The smell is acrid and sour.

You back away from him, horrified at your reaction. You have learned to restrain yourself, to tamp it all down, to swallow it with a smile and say nothing. In that moment, you simply cannot. You shake your head as your face twists in despair.

“I would wather an enemy, saw,” you hiss, “as I would be ashamed to call a cad like you husband.”

His glare flashes and he sways as if he might lunge at you. He rights himself and his brow arches. His lips draw and his cheeks pale.

“Very well.”

He spins on his heel and stomps away, the light limning his silhouette sinisterly. You stare after him mortified. What has come over you? You were never bold or brazen or brutal to any. Edith would be disappointed. A gentle soul like her could never even think a hot word.

You fall back against the wall and clutch your hands over your chest. Is this to be your life? Are you to live in loathing, not only of that man but of yourself. To be castigated for the lilt of your own tongue, the very pulse of your existence? You’d thought your father a villain but this man has proven himself worse.

Worst than his distaste is your own futility, for he has assured you there is nothing you might do to appease him. As he is bound to you most miserably, so are you vowed to the same fate. Not even in that might you commiserate.

🔹

You sit in front of the mirror, holding the brooch over the table, feeling the embroidery with the pad of your thumb. You turn it over and back again. It’s the only piece of your sister you have left. Every day she feels further away from you. Every morning, you awake, expecting to hear her, to see her, and she is not there, and you are not at home.

You peer up at your reflection as your hand hovers over the painted wood. You’ve not touched a tress or cheek. You must ready, you know it, but your reticence is like chains on your wrists. You know what you are to face but knowing cannot make it any less unpleasant.

A knock comes at the door. You call for the maid to enter, thinking Doreen’s come to remind you again of your pending engagement. The maid opens the door but says nothing, letting in the duchess instead. Lady Frigga is almost rapturous in a dressing gown of peach fabric as her hair is set already in tight curls around an elegant chignon. You stand, apologising for your misstep.

“Dear, it is quite forgivable,” she assures, “I only meant to look in on you before the banquet, to be certain you do not require anything, but darling, oh,” she sweeps towards you and cups your cheeks, “you’ve not even begun. What is the matter?”

“There is no issue,” you lie, “I mewely let time escape me.”

You smile and gently pull away, turning back to the vanity. You open your hand and once more consider the pin.

“Is this the dress you mean to wear?” Frigga asks as she crosses the room in a swish of silk. You peer over your shoulder as she looks down on the orange fabric. “It is a rather keen shade.”

“Yes, my lady,” you answer in a dulcet tone. You cannot find a glimmer of concern for your attire.

She sighs and returns to you, holding the ribbon you’ve chosen, “these are far too dour,” she touches an onyx, “haven’t you some pearls?”

“Somewhaw...” You bend your neck, staring at the bluebird, at Edith’s handiwork. You remember the day she gave it to you and the way she smiled so proudly. How she pinned it on you herself and made you go around and show all.

“Oh, dear, that won’t go at all. It would be nice for a lunch, no doubt, but not for a banquet,” she remarks and you close your hand around the brooch. You put your shoulders straight and face her.

“I have a pawl band in my chest,” you resign and step around her.

You go to the chest and sift around, careful not to let the brooch slip from your grasp. You take out the pearls on the ivory band and show it to her. She tuts.

“It won’t go with this gown,” she insists.

“Yes, the onyx--”

“Mmp, I prefer pearls. Darling, you must be your best. It is your first social appearance. I do not say this to demean you, only to assist. I know your own mother cannot be here to see you debut but I cannot imagine her pain at this moment. So much loss. Both daughters at once, in a way,” she bemoans.

Yes, you think of your mother too. You know she won’t be well. Nor your father. All their hopes and dreams dashed in a deficient daughter sent to carry a legacy on with a spiteful husband who mightn’t even have the stomach to deliver one.

“I vewy much appweciate it, lady,” you make yourself smile, “I suppose it must be nawvs.”

“Suppose it must,” she hums, “how about you wear the orange gown and I fetch you a feather pin from my own collection? I have a fabulous ostrich and topaz piece,” she assures, “and some black lace gloves. Ooh, yes, dear, we will make certain all is perfect.”

“Thank you, Lady Fwigga, but it isn’t necessawy--”

“You are to be my daughter, of course it is,” she preens. “Besides, who shall notice anything but how splendid you look?”

She twists on her heel and your smile dwindles. You know what is meant. What she will not state plainly. Perhaps a fine outfit might distract from your crooked consonants. You sit on the stool again and watch her go.

Even those who are kind cannot help their thoughts. She mightn’t be cruel about it, but you can hear the disappointment in her pandering cooing. You are not the daughter she wanted just as you are not the wife her son wanted. Just as you do not want to be as you are.

#the sticking point #loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #regency au #mcu #marvel #thor #avengers

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sigmasemen · 2 days

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YOUR BEAUTY IS SIMPLE.

chigiri hyoma x reader tags: fluff, gossiping, girl talk, cutesy relationships, flustered reader, established relationship, short.

taglist: n/a currently.

characters: chigiri hyoma, hyoma’s sister, reader, (non romantic) mentions of isagi yoichi, chris prince, reo mikage, nagi seishiro, rensuke kunigami, meguru bachira.

word count: 625

extra: FINAL REPOST FROM A TWITTER THREAD. technically i’m also gonna make a kaiser one but that isn’t posted yet!! wish this was longer but im lazy + i get to post the rest of my fics soon since i’ll have enough backlogged !!

many people assume that when you started dating chigiri, he would automatically care for your skincare and routine constantly. everyone assumed he would be making sure you’re taken care of always.

it was… partially true.

sure, he did care about taking care of you. he’d comb his fingers through your hair slowly before you two fell asleep. he would brush your hair and help you out of bed in the mornings you weren’t feeling the best.

it wasn’t as major as people made it out to be. it wasn’t constant. he did it when you two were both open.

what was becoming a constant was his big sister doing your nails every weekend. you’d come over an hour early for chigiri, then get stopped by her when she saw you walk in.

the conversations ranged from your day, to a childhood memory, to her skin care routine, it just mattered on how you two were feeling. but on this day, the conversation had trailed off into chigiri.

since he had been away from his sister for a while because of soccer, you were there to give her all the updates.

“oh! and he made friends with this guy named yoichi isagi.”

“oh… the black haired undercut? i see why! he’s so, so sweet, isn’t he?” her shrill voice made you briefly stiffen.

“he’s very sweet! they get along well, along with reo, nagi, bachira, kunigami, the… british coach guy? hyoma has had an easier time making friends with people.”

“maybe manipulating teenagers into thinking they have to only care about themselves makes them clingy towards people with very similar experiences?”

it seemed about right… “why are you thinking about it like that?”

“i’m just happy my brother doesn’t only have some freaky guys talking about ego in his ear… that facility annoyed me,” she brushed her fingers against your collarbone, “besides, he’s always talking about you.”

you knew she saw your little twitch as her lips curved into a smile, “mhm, always. it’s like all he thinks about is you!”

you didn’t care, you don’t care, it doesn’t matter, it isn’t important, why would it matter? “what does he say?” fuck.

“oh… y’know,” she was dragging this out, “he mentioned that he wanted to take you on a date this friday. like a little surprise. he had a rose and everything on order…”

“oh! yeah… cool.”

…

it was impossible to remain casual. “what else?”

the words of his sister continued to fuel your ego more and more. it shouldn’t have made your heart feel this warm for your cold-hearted princess of a boyfriend to be secretly saying this cute stuff about you, but it did. it made you want to burst out into tears and run into his arms.

the entire time she spoke, your leg bounced as a tick to show joy. your hands fooled around with each other as a mechanism to calm down. it wasn’t that these worked, but it was worth a shot.

“then he grabbed a bonsai plant, which he said he hated, and wanted to give you it because it reminded him of you! he carried it around the entire store and—”

the click of a lock shot both of your head straight to the door. chigiri. you swung your body to be facing the window instead of him. though you couldn’t see it, a light was pulled from his eyes briefly.

“hm. how are you two?”

you willingly ignored the conversation you had been having previously in a feeble attempt to suppress your feelings. you were just focused on calming that blush on your face. the stupid blush your boyfriend didn’t even know he caused… you hoped to give him the same sort of embarrassment one day.

#chigiri x reader #chigiri hyoma x reader #chigiri hyoma #bllk #bllk x you #blue lock #x reader #cupid’s bangers

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stinkythehutt · 5 months

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also. something about palpatine being so adept at seeing into the future that all of his successes feel completely joyless by the time he achieves them because he’s just going through the motions… how fucked up and nihilistic and brutal that would make you…

#teddy talks #anakin is like the opposite of this bc he’s tortured by his future failures #so he lives in constant terror and denial #whereas palpatine is lowkey tortured in a different way though he’d never ever label it as such #but the boredom of it all. the inescapability…#in a sense of course you would long for ultimate power over the force. because you would feel so much just like a meaningless vehicle #of its will otherwise #and anakin would be a PERFECT toy for someone like that. because he is so bewildered. he’s easy to tangle up in knots #i’m just doing some character Thinking #but yeah. of course one in palpatines position might hate the force and feel a need to lash out and dominate it #and he manages his own repressed bewilderment by manufacturing it in anakin to an extreme degree #but. importantly. while also having complete control over the machinations of anakin’s experience #and by crushing the force and all knowledge of it #CHRIST i’m back sorry but all the stuff he does to extend his life. he obviously is terrified of death #and rather than face it he just creates My Apprentice: The Guy Super Fucked Up About People Dying #to punish somebody else for his own horror…. it’s giving projective identification. not to bring freud into this

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dollsuguru · 4 months

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love delving into suguru’s overthinking brain <3

#i think his paternal instinct is natural and that it affects the way he interacts sometimes (shows itself in good and bad ways)#i think it’s a genuine struggle for him in terms of nature & nurture. he wants to take care of you/fix things but doesn’t want to make you +#feel like he’s controlling you in that way… it’s a fine line i kinda wanna explore that w him #i underthink to a fault sometimes 😭 so it’s cool to write about a character who’s a constant overthinker #MIND YOU THIS IS FROM MY V-DAY WIP FIC 😭 wanted to add a lil conflict/a look into the way suguru’s brain works #still a bit messy/choppy but i’m just writing stream of consciousness rn #snippets #personal

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no1ryomafan · 6 months

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I have said this before but me being self proclaimed number 1 Ryoma fan and that being possibly literal-bc even if this bro had fans before me I might’ve simply done the most for him by talking about him so much + being the first to write fics that are in depth studies on his trauma across canons-I gotta say if there’s one other character I rotate a lot that isn’t him it’s probably Kei. (Shocking it’s not Hayato even if I do think about him too- but it’s usually associated with Ryoma bc gays 🗿)

I’m not even exaggerating when I say Kei would be my favorite and only isn’t because she doesn’t exist in many other canons yet my brain rotates the endless possibilities of how to incorporate her. I’ve already written a fic where she’s in shin vs neo verse which worked surprisingly well but I’ve been thinking how universally she could appear in other things. (Whether it be fitting her into a idea of a possible Go team in New or just a new canon completely) I think what I’ve narrow it down to is that she could be like- in Michirus role? Like she’s the supporting female who isn’t a pilot but helps out the real occasionally which I think would align very well especially with the original manga role she has of being Hayato’s assistant. And even if Hayato isn’t grandpa mode yet he still very much is in Saotomes position at that point. Not sure if she’d Hayato’s biological kid to further parallel Saotome and Michiru given well Hayato already adopts the Go team and his wife is irrelevant LOL.

I have no idea if I’ll ever write this specific idea but I’m still- rotating it cause this is such a easy way to get around “picking between Sho or Kei as the 2nd pilot” since both of them can still exist even if one doesn’t get to pilot, idm my supporting females. (Granted there could always be like- plot line where Sho gets hurt so Kei is temporary pilot but I can’t remember if Getter ever really did this since “once your hurt your ass is basically replaced” lol)

#meg text #getter robo #au rambles #I think I rotate her so much because my friend and I talked about her relationship with Go #like it makes so much sense if among all the universal constants in getter one would be Kei is important to Go #granted the shift from “she’s my love interest” to “she’s my sister” will never not be so fucking drastic 💀#also I get why in SVN she wasn’t there for time and idk where you’d fit her but man Kei deserves a more significant role #hence why I imagine her in Michirus role because even if she also had it ROUGH some iterations knew how to use her #also Kei already has a established relationship w gai mainly thanks to arma so- Sho deserves to speak with her too #they can be besties who rat out on the boys but still have high respect for hayato #granted I know the real reason why this hasn’t happened is because Kei is a minor character and “no proper go manga adaptation??”#at this point I don’t expect a anime but it be nice if Go team got used in a spin off bc we had a good run of OG team #I’d also want them to use arc in spin offs too but I understand their more- finicky characters to use #given their main thing is their actual descendants of existing characters and one of them is our first boyo (ryoma)#if you took out the bloodline stuff it make them feel redundant because you can just use go team for that #also honestly despite how mixed arc anime is for everyone they really don’t need to be in anything after this #other then wishing they get something with nicer animation but that’s what’s SRW is for #(also back to Kei I’m a bit upset she did not get a cameo in arc even if she’d probably look horrendous it was just salt in the wound)#(GAI LITERALLY SAIDS WHEN HE DIES IN THE MANGA HE SEES KEI WHERE WAS SHE WITH ALL THE GETTER GHOSTS?)#actually Michiru wasn’t there too so it was probably just woman erasure /hj

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prodogg · 1 year

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chan rejecting azula is a good thing though? azula is a lesbian

Anon, my post was not about Chan rejecting being good or bad but rather that she got her feelings hurt. Anyways, Anon, Azula being a lesbian is a hc just like her being bi. Her sexuality was never clarified in the show. you can believe her being a lesbian that it valid, I’m not going to berate you or anything since there is nothing to berate. Everyone can have their hc about her sexuality. I’d just recommend you not to push your hc on others and say then they are canon. I’m not saying that was your goal with this anon ask, I’m just mentioning this for the future since it makes you look like an obnoxious rabid fan and I already saw some of those on twitter. Since we are on the topic I’m going to just throw in that I see Azula as Bi.

Edit: btw everything I’m saying is from my experience, I don’t deny that others are pushing their hc on people who like the lesbian Azula hc or that they are the only ones doing it.

#pd answers #azula #sexuality headcanons #her sexuality doesn’t make her whole character and I personally dislike it when it’s the case #I spoke with friends yesterday about it that some rabid Azula fans push their hc on others while oppressing other voices since they believe #being loud about it makes it true #I’m rolling my eyes at the people that write under Hicks twitter comments to make her a lesbian #jfc her sexuality is the least important thing Im worried about #Im more concerned about her portrayal #but I digress #I have friends who just feel annoyed by the constant push of the lesbian hc down our throats #it’s not like other fans do the same #we justs mind our own business but get harassed nonetheless #okay #screaming in the void is over #just don’t be a douche to others and let them like what they want #headcanons are cool #but don’t be obnoxious about them when others don’t believe them #pd talks #it was 2005 and they wrote her as straight girl but fans can do whatever they want with the characters #just let people be #her sexuality is such a non factor #to me

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spicyicymeloncat · 2 years

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The “this character annoys me because they are undeveloped and their actions in the story are unreasonable” to “wait I actually love this character when I realise how much potential they had and how there is groundwork’s for explaining why they do many controversial decisions and as the story goes on they actually develop and grow like people which is admirable” and “I no longer know how much of the things that make me obsessed with this character is canon or manifested by my desire to rewrite the subject material I don’t like” pipeline is so strong

#tried to make readable #in other words I am now a Ninjago wu apologist lol #i don’t like Kai - Harumi - wu - Misako’s writing but I love the groundwork and potential they can live up too and #i spend more time thinking about them than I do about my favourite characters #lol #hot take: Rät by Penelope Scott but it’s not sung to wu it’s sung by Wu about his dad #Ik it looks like I’m favouriting him but think about it for a second #his dad started training him and garms when they were really young #Wu has had the pressure of feeling responsible over Garmadon in every aspect: he’s supposed to be the good one #he’s in control of his actions #it’s his fault Garmadon is like this #the fsm is dead so wu is the only childhood family men ever Garmadon has #and what’s more is that the fsm seemed to make everything about the constant battle between the balance #i mean the fsm didn’t even tell wu where his fucking grave was #he made it a test!#Wu was taught that parenting is the same thing as being a teacher and trainer of combat #and when we see him ultimately take a fatherly role he continues this generational trauma #he treats Morro and the ninja like his children but unfortunately he’s been told that the way you treat children is prepare them for battle #and obviously he becomes aware that’s not entirely useful bc times change and whilst Ninjago is still frequently attacked #they aren’t in full blown wars anymore #but breaking out of toxic cycles is a process #and Wu frequently goes through arcs of feeling useless and going off on his own #which is major parallels with Lloyd Morro Kai #and also like everyone else #every ninja has daddy issues even the ninja’s dads have daddy issues #ninjago #ahahah

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gamingstar26 · 8 months

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Yes, you are exactly right about totk!! A lot of my own complaints come from the story (or lack thereof). To be honest, it's a rare LOZ game that has a particularly complex or nuanced story, but in my opinion, the best ones more than make up for it with their characters.

My favorite game that I've played is Skyward Sword, and I desparately want to play Wind Waker, because the both of them have such fun and compelling characters that I don't really mind the simplicity of the narratives (and Wind Waker even hints at nuance the other games won't dive into!)

Tears of the Kingdom tries to use plot driven storytelling, but... expects us to be far more invested than most of us ever really are. There's hints of character driven story in there, but it all just falls flat in the end and feels really superficial, ESPECIALLY when you look at how they treat the women in this game. Zelda is JUST the sacrificial maiden (again) whose only autonomy comes from choosing to give up her autonomy. Mineru is JUST the smart character who magically technobabbles the solutions. Purah is JUST the scientist that tells you where to go. Most indicative of Nintendo's attitude in this, to me, is with Riju. The way they treat her, it's clear they want her to fill the role of the sexy one, but they know that won't go well if they go all out because she was canonically a young child in the last game. Still really gross, Nintendo you're not subtle.

All this to say that TOTK thinks it's more clever than if is, and fails to pull its own weight in any meaninful way.

All of this!!

I’ll add a bit more that I forgot to add:

Yea usually zelda games have simple plots overall (with some expectations of course) but they do make up for it with memorable characters, etc, etc…

My favorite zelda game is Ocarina of Time cause of the lore (also gameplay of course) and the how interesting it is to me and the overall themes it goes into being tragic and relatable, even tho the surface story is simple overall.(the hero of time games being my favs cause of the story driven nature yet also have fun gameplay) Also other games like skyward sword having a good engaging story with good characters (Groose is the best), wind waker being a simple coming of age story, but also having the king and ganondorf both cling on to the past, etc.

Like you said totk thinks it’s clever and fails to deliver on making us invested in a meaningful and exciting narrative, in a way it’s using tropes from previous zelda games like oot, botw, SS and link to the past without even knowing why they worked in the first place. While failing to reuse tho tropes in a more unique way like previous games have done. It’s true there are hints of character driven story it’s just ignored or mentioned in a half assed way.

Also like I said in the post the lack of consequences with the main story at the end, like Link’s arm just being restored even tho furry rauru had said it was beyond saving, and zelda being recalled back to normal, so her “sacrifice” was not worth it at all (master sword is also worse somehow like wtf zelda)

I’ve also noticed the way totk treats the main women it’s very not good, like you said with zelda she’s just sacrificial maiden turned into a dragon, mineru being exposition dump lady cause that’s all she does tbh, also has the worst Sage ability in the whole game, etc.

zelda being the worst one. (Tbh botw/totk zelda is mixed overall she’s overrated) cause she’s dumb as hell didn’t even recognize that Ganondorf and Calamity Ganon could be related, she does nothing until furry rauru and sonia are dead. Also being a terrible princess, she didn’t even do any meaningful things to hyrule’s rebuilding efforts other than build a school and some small memorials and fuck around doing whatever the hell she was doing pre totk. Also she stole links house damn it.

there’s also the way the gerudo are treated in the zelda series as a whole, but that’s a whole other topic others have done better at that. Like with totk and botw (mostly totk) being helpless yet also warriors needing help from hylians to even survive in their own home?! Like how ingame they explain that zelda of all people was the one to help them get to know the desert and how to survive better wtf? And the secret heroine side quest end, how it’s just some random hylian guy to be the hidden 8th. (There goes the 7 sages and the 8th being the hero of time theory)

Also the way the botw events are treated. they just pretend that none of the ancient tech never existed at all and refuse to mention anything about botw, only in small passes. And the side quest with the Hateno school mentioning the original calamity.

The depths having potential to be better but we’re just empty and massive instead, I like the bargainer statues those are cool as an concept. And the sky islands being boring and copy paste the same few islands throughout.

Holy shit this game makes me write entire essays of complaints. I’m sorry if I repeat myself I’m terrible at explaining stuff at times.

Now I’m going to play the zelda games I’ve never finished to cleanse myself of totk.

#totk critical #totk criticism #totk neg #loz #also the constant repetition of the same few events over and over again #Sage cutscenes being the worst offender #also don’t get me started with the hero’s aspect and the stupid lore implication of it #puppet zelda had more personality than real zelda and that’s just sad #ganondorfs amazing design in totk being wasted on the worst and most boring version of ganondorf to date #some amazing character design wasted on shitty writing that’s just sad #this game legit makes me go on long ass essays cause of how much this game disappoints me #I wish that zelda team listens to these criticisms and makes a better story in the next zelda game #but the future of the series is definitely concerning if they keep going like this #as a big fan since 2011 I hope the series gets better in the story and lore department #I’m critical cause I care it’s not cause of nostalgia ( a bit tho)#this game feels like a terrible oot/botw fanfic au #I did a let’s play of this game half of it was me saying my criticisms about the game without spoiling much #i just couldn't help myself

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eredins-a-king-aint-he · 1 year

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Once again coping with the fact that 1. I’m bad at remembering that I should write for myself because I enjoy it and not just for validation, and 2. I also gotta remember that pretty much all my fics and art are for less popular characters/ships which just means they’re gonna get less attention🤷🏽

Just makes me kinda sad sometimes, but it also makes me adore the few of y’all that put out for the less popular characters of a franchise even more🥺❤️

#cedar rambles #cedar complains #this is my constant struggle #I am simply drawn to less popular characters and ships I can’t help it #they’re more interesting to me #every single fic or art I’ve done for gerlion has gotten EXPONENTIALLY more attention than my other stuff but like #idk I don’t feel like making stuff for them often at all #I’ve made my own bed but I’m gonna complain about it while I lie in it LMAO

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causticfanatic · 6 months

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I’m shifting and rotting and watching and tearing, rending face from face a cacophony of identity and cruelty and eternity. I’m a monster and I’m not real. I am less than human, worse. I exist to hurt and to feed from pain and I have never felt bad about that fact. I am a leach never providing any use, any value and I am a beast hurting, breaking, scaring. i am the monster under the bed, the thing in the shadows, the tapping on the window, the creak in the attic. I am lies and rot and cruelty.

#mag archive lore sat marinating in my brain until I followed my constant brain mantra of I am not human I am not real back to where it led #then otherkin #I can’t tell if it’s better or worse #probably worse because I’ve got more things to be dysphoric about but hey I guess self knowledge is pretty good too #nonhuman #.t #otherkin #unreality #just because I’m pretty sure like the way I talk about myself is a trigger #monsterkin #changlingkin #idk dunno if I fit that category #tma kin #I absolutely fit that one though even if I don’t feel like one specific character

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nerdsandbabyteeth · 1 year

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Constantly trapped between I can’t wait to live away from my family and spend more time alone because I feel like my thoughts will have time to settle and I will lose my mind if I live alone because I am starting to lose a sense of self this week simply because two of my friends are away and I don’t speak to anyone much in school.

#noggin time #I also cannot stand the fact that people I know follow me online or people I respect even #because I have a constant nagging feeling I’m completely and utterly embarrassing I see people posting abt things in their life and like #venting or whatever and I could never do that I think bc so many people follow me that I see face to face #I mean I’m doing this right now but tumblr is it’s own beast I have like one person I know irl on here I think #also it’s not like I have no friends I still talk to teachers and other people but it’s my best friend who I meet every morning and my new #friend I made this year who is in all the same free periods as me and also likes talking about tv shows so it’s like two people I talktomost #if this were a therapy session which it now is I would trace back my feeling of pure unfiltered embarrassment at simply being online back to #when I used framecast when I was like 9 and I drew a character inspired by someone’s oc and they vague posted quite civil abt it like please #don’t copy my ocs guys and I cried about it for hours and hours and I’ve never been the same since not to sound dramatic but it’s true #I delete Instagram every 3 days because it starts to make me feel physically unwell and then I re-download it because I miss everyone #I didnr consider i might have some sort of mental issues other than autism until recently because I just convinced myself this isn’t a prope #r issue I should just get over it but at this point it’s violently affecting my moods when I’m not immediately talking to anyone

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devilsskettle · 1 year

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every self-aware meta-slasher piece of media is just not for me and i think i need to accept that and stop trying to get into films and books i know will bore and annoy me in the hopes that i’ll find slasher-related media that actually has something interesting to say about the genre

#i’m trying to read my heart is a chainsaw because i really liked the same author’s novella the clown brigade #but i just don’t think i can get into it #part of the problem is just not liking the main character as a character tbh #but the constant movie references is annoying to me. and that’s like the premise of the book lol it’s 100% necessary to the storytelling #it’s not Bad or anything it’s just not for me #which is ironic because that’s probably how people feel about me irl. just silently praying i’ll shut up about slasher movies for 2 minutes

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etre-grantaire · 1 year

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I relistened to the episode again today to try and wrap my feelings around it but I really just can’t? In a very positive way though

The tragedies that are unfolding are really getting me, and the fact that they’re barreling down like a freight train and we can’t avoid them

Link was completely right that if Scary left I think she would have been too far to reach, but that came at the expense of Taylor who had just seen his dad killed in front of him

Normal’s home life is literally in flames and the one stable thing he’s had to hold on to and a major source of his identity has just been stolen from him by someone he thought cared about him (and isn’t that a just a kick-in-the-pants recurring theme for him)

Link can’t process everything that’s happening to him so he’s just shutting down entirely and modelling himself after Scary because, as he sees it, she’s the only one who is confident in what she’s doing so she must be doing something right even if she’s following the wrong people

Taylor finally got physical proof that his absent father loved him and thought about him while he was gone, but this only came after his friend killed him. And then his other friends side with and protect the person who killed his father, and expect Taylor to put aside his emotions in favour of hers (and maybe he’s “not really dead,” thanks Normal, but that doesn’t really change the fact that he is now just a torso floating in space and also that Taylor thought he was and thought that he watched him die)

And Scary… Scary seems to be torn between two sides where she feels unwanted and unwelcome now (putting aside the other teen’s actual feelings it’s clear she doesn’t believe they care about her, even at the end of the episode) but it’s maybe easier for her for right now to be with the teens. She might feel safer with them than with Willy right now but I don’t think she feels back in the fold and I think we’ll start to see some repercussions from that. I’m also absolutely terrified for her for when she next goes to sleep if Willy realizes she’s on the teens’ side

#honestly the storytelling this episode was fantastic but I’m genuinely filled with dread for these teens #I feel like I’m watching them shatter in slow motion #I really hope they explore the scary and taylor dynamic next episode #bc it’s clear that the other teens expect taylor to put aside his feelings after seeing his dad cut in half #and then having scary mock him about it while he’s crying on the floor!#in favour of what they want i.e. scary back in the group and doodler hunting #I wonder if they really are setting up a second split with taylor finally leaving as a lone ronin #the constant disregard of the close-foster-swift family by the others is a recurring theme and I love/hate it??#I’m frenemies with it #I’m just not seeing a happy ending for these characters and it’s breaking my heart #dndads s2 spoilers #dndads s2 #dndads #dndads spoilers

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yamujiburo · 2 months

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Why I Love Hanamusa

I get this question very frequently but have never given a really in depth, definitive answer. All just kinda implied through my comics and spread out asks. So here's this I guess! Long post ahead:

First, as a Pokémon fan in her mid 20s, I love seeing a ship where the characters are both in their mid/late 20s. Already, they’re much more relatable to me and my current experiences. Most Pokémon ships are between preteens, which can be cute but ultimately don’t interest me as much as they used to when I was a kid myself. Not enough to get super invested in and draw a lot of fanart for anyways haha.

I’ll also start by saying that canon doesn’t always influence whether or not I’ll ship something. I’m much more drawn to potential. Could the characters work together? Do their personalities work together in a nice way? I feel like this so much of fanon is anyways. Especially with queer relationships because they’re rarely depicted in the first place. A lot of the context for these ships is usually up to the fans to piece together or make up in general. And that’s the fun part to me!

Jessie and Delia have only met in the anime a handful of times. Any interaction they’ve had has either been pleasant, or just a typical Team Rocket interaction, with Delia dismissing them/not seeing them as a threat. Already a great jumping off point for me since, truly, they don’t have any actual beef or true, ill feelings towards each other. It’s not TOO out of the realm of possibility for them to potentially fall for each other. “But Jessie chased Delia’s son around trying to steal his Pokémon!” That’s where that dismissive and aloof attitude that Delia has comes into play. I’ll go more into Delia’s whole deal a bit later but I do think this aspect of her personality is a large reason why this ship can work. It’s not that she doesn’t care that Jessie has a bad past, but she can tell that, on the inside, Jessie’s a good person. And, in a scenario where Jessie is trying to become a better person, is forgiving enough to give her a shot. I feel like this is such a solid foundation for a ship. A character who has done wrong but is trying to be better and another character who is willing to help them be better. A classic dynamic!

It’s not just one-sided though; where Jessie is the only one benefitting and learning from the relationship. I believe Delia could get a lot out of being with someone like Jessie. To understand why, I think it’s important to know these characters’ respective backstories.

Jessie is an orphan/foster child who grew up in poverty. Her mother Miyamoto (from The Birth of Mewtwo) was a Team Rocket operative herself, who went on a mission to find Mew. In order to do this, she had to leave Jessie when she was just a toddler. Unfortunately, Miyamoto went MIA on her mission leaving Jessie to more or less fend for herself. Jessie went through life with zero stability, evident by her MANY different careers and constant moving around. It’s implied in the show that she went from foster home to foster home, and later in life tried being an idol, weather girl, florist, wine connoisseur, actress, most notably a nurse and finally a Team Rocket field agent. And even while in Team Rocket, she, James and Meowth were always doing odd jobs to get by. We see that Jessie used to be a sweet kid, and even adult, but the world and her circumstances repeatedly did her dirty, leading her to become the character we know today. Hot tempered, mean, selfish, etc. But despite this, her soft side does still shine through for the people and Pokémon she cares about. She is incredibly loyal.

Delia, unbeknownst to a lot of fans, also had a rough past (see Pocket Monsters: The Animation). Like Jessie, she had a lot of dreams and aspirations like wanting to be a model and even a trainer. But when she was 10, her mother didn’t let her, telling her that she had to stay home and learn to run the family restaurant (she’s an only child). Delia’s father left her and her mother to be a trainer, and never returned. When she was 18, she married Ash’s father and became pregnant shortly after. But right after Ash was born, he also set off to be a Pokémon trainer. And soon after that, her mother passed away, leaving Delia with just the restaurant and baby Ash. This gives so much context to Delia’s attitude in the show. We see that Delia is pained whenever Ash leaves on a journey, but she never shows that pain to anyone. ESPECIALLY Ash. She’s very quick to shoo him off when he shows any sign of wanting to go on another journey and even when he returns home, she acts more excited to see Pikachu than him almost every time. Without all this backstory, it’s easy to just read this as a funny gag, BUT with context, I think it really shows how quickly Delia shuts down and detaches in order to not confront her own feelings. She’s afraid of losing people and getting hurt again.

All that said, I think Jessie and Delia provide each other with EXACTLY what the other needs.

Aside from becoming rich and famous, Jessie’s biggest aspiration is to get married. In my opinion, this is more so an underlying want for love and stability. There is no one more stable in the show than Delia. Delia’s lived in Pallet her whole life, she’s worked at the same restaurant since she was young and she is always there when Ash comes back home. She has all the love, patience and stability Jessie needs and craves. While forgiving, Delia’s not stupid and can keep Jessie in check. Delia’s also just an angel, which I feel, would make Jessie want to be better. And on top of all this, on more of a surface level, Delia’s a chef and excellent cook. She shows love through cooking and Jessie, who grew up poor, regularly starving and eating snow, happily receives that love. Jessie’s able to live a happy and healthy life with someone like Delia.

Delia, as stated, is very stable. Likely pretty monotonous and solitary, especially living in such a small town like Pallet. This isn’t a bad thing but it’s a little sad when you consider that Delia also had dreams of traveling, being a model and a trainer. She had to give up so many dreams in order to fulfill her duties as a restaurant owner and mother. And even now, when Ash is off on his journey, she feels the need to always be home and be that stable pillar, leaving behind any ambitions she had, thinking it’s too late for her (she’s only 29 btw). But then along comes Jessie, dangerous, passionate, an absolute firecracker. Someone who’s whole life has been about chasing dreams and either, never giving up on them or finding a new dream to chase. Upon learning about Delia’s past aspirations, I could see Jessie pushing her towards them, letting her know that life’s too short and she has nothing to lose from trying. On top of this, Jessie’s also loyal. She, James and Meowth are depicted as doing anything for anyone who gives them food or shows them kindness. Delia does both so there’s no way Jessie would leave her. This fulfills an essential need for Delia, who is afraid of the people in her life leaving her.

There’s so much potential for mutual growth and learning between these two and I adore that. They compliment each other, they help each other and they bring out the best qualities in one another.

I’m not really sure how to end this and I could truly talk about them even more but I don’t want this to be tooooo long haha. OH I could end it with maybe the most funny aspect of this ship that I've brushed over and also what drew me to it in the first place. Jessie. As Ash’s stepmom. THE END.

#hanamusa #hanamusashipping

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