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#It’s like. With the first one it boils down to character A (in this case Leo) going “I’m useless because I’m not good at [thing]”
cryptvokeeper · 2 years
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don’t get me wrong I think the general interpretation of Leo being like “I put up a cocky front but deep down I don’t actually think I’m that great and that’s why I have something to prove” is good. It’s cool, plenty of drama/angst potential and probably what the creators were going for, I’m here for it.
But there is a distinct appeal to me of the slightly-to-the-left interpretation of Leo being like “it’s not a front, I know I’m that good/smart/skilled, but I also know I’m seen by others as just the goofball face man and that’s why I have something to prove.”
#Rottmnt#Wild metaphor incoming but it’s like the difference between a hersheys bar and fancy Ghirardelli or something#At the end of the day they’re both chocolate. But ones got a bit more depth.#where was I going with this again idk I got caught up in food metaphor#It’s like. With the first one it boils down to character A (in this case Leo) going “I’m useless because I’m not good at [thing]”#Resulting in those around him either going “of course you’re good at thing! Remember the time you were good at thing?”#Or sometimes “it doesn’t matter that you’re not good at [thing] we love you regardless of what you can provide”#And again THATS GOOD THATS SOME GOOD SHIT#I LOVE THAT#but with the latter it’s more like “I know I’m good at thing *but I don’t know how to prove it to you*”#And that gives you the best of both worlds where you CAN get character A feeling bad but not for their lack of thing#But because if no can see it surely they *must* be doing something wrong right?#And ALSO you get the characters around them getting all sorts of feelings of “we didn’t do enough to show we believe in them”#Or “we didn’t notice how hard they tried”#Cuz you can get that a little in the first one but it can come off as kinda meh cuz they didn’t actually do anything wrong#It also has more opportunities for emotions besides straight sadness#You can have anger and conflict of “why am I not good enough for you?!”#That straight sef deprecation doesn’t always allow for#You can also have jealously and envy that feels less toxic and more justified#Not that it strictly needs to be justified mind you#Sometimes some toxic feelings stemming from perceived inadequacy are fuckin *chefs kiss*#But again it’s abt the VARIETY yknow#This isn’t even about Rottmnt anymore I’m just rambling#It’s my post and I get to choose the bullshit tags
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xiao-come-home · 7 months
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❝Uncurable disease... or so they say.❞
┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓
✰ Characters: Neuvillette.
✰ Words: 1k.
✰ SFW ; gn!reader, no mentions of pronouns, but neuvillette uses female pet name towards the reader, I think.
Warnings: slight hurt, but then a lot of comfort. neuvi doesnt know how confessing works and does it his own way.
A/N: NEUVILLETTE BRAINROT NEUVILLETTE BRAINROTKORFKKTGOID GRRRRRR it was supposed to short but oh well 1k words hehe shy emoji
┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛
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“You make me ill.”
Neuvillette’s words pierce through your heart like daggers. His orchid eyes stare you down and indicate absolutely nothing; his sudden confession left you in a circle between shock and confusion.
The words spread throughout your body like poison, but in reality you’re only staring back at him. The hurt starts to become visible on your face, but your mouth seems to be unable to let out a noise; yet, the voice in your head yells and begs to know the answer as to why.
You clutch the rainbow rose he brought you close to your chest, being the first to take your eyes off him. You look at the ground, feeling the familiar clump in your throat that starts to form.
Neuvillette has been feeling sick as of late. Or at least, that’s what he thought - well, what else could explain that he feels his temperature rise, his heart beating so fast it could escape his chest, making even his voice tremble? “No, this cannot be-“ Neuvillette thought frantically, massaging his temples, “It’s time for a professional to evaluate.”
Though, as expected - the doctor was of no help. She giggled to herself, “I apologize, monsieur Neuvillette, I’m afraid I can’t help in this case. I can assure you however, you’re perfectly healthy.” The chief of justice felt the uncomfortable feeling of embarrassment, but thanked the doctor and left the room.
After yet another trial where Neuvillette seemed to be somewhere else with his thoughts, Furina confronted him with a tinge of annoyance in her voice. The white haired man could only mutter a thing, that he does not feel well; at the sound of his pathetic excuse, Furina stood up from her seat furiously, throwing her hands in the air, “You aren’t sick, fool! You’re in love!”The hydro archon’s cheeks flushed a slight pink at her own statement, but she was no match for her subordinate; she pushed the sudden bashfulness away, “n-now, do something about it immediately! I will not tolerate it in the courtroom any longer!” Furina crossed her arms and sat down again, furrowing her brows and watching the empty seats below her.
Seeing you divert your eyes away, Neuvillette’s expression softened significantly, his line of sight mimicking yours and shifting to a nearby bench.
“Why?”
Neuvillette blinks quickly, his eyelashes batting at you in surprise, “Come again? What do you mean?”
“Why do you hate me?”
He could feel the boiling hot feeling spreading through his body, although not a pleasant one. His eyes widened at you and his lips parted ever so slightly - but Neuvillette could only hear his heart beating so fast, beating to the rhythm of worry and uncertainty.
Before he could react properly, he saw a small tear dripping down your cheek, onto the cold pavement.
But his body moved without thinking.
He cups your cheeks gently with his gloved hands and moves your head up, just enough so you could look at him. His thumbs wipe your tears off your face, sighing deeply and finally speaking the real deal.
“You… make my heart race. It beats ungodly fast whenever I lay my eyes on you. You’ve been occupying my thoughts for many months, and even if I try to think about anything else - I cannot bring myself to do it, because it all comes back to you. I can’t… stop thinking about you, I can’t stop myself from admiring your ravishing beauty, I want you-“
“Wait!” You yell just enough to make him stop, both of you avoiding each other’s gazes and blushing bright red, but his hands stayed firmly on your face, no longer drying off tears, but caressing the apples of your cheeks he gently, “if that’s how you feel, then why…? Why did you say it like that?” For what it feels like first time in forever, you look into his gorgeous eyes that resemble the finest amethyst.
“I… I apologize, I didn’t want you to misunderstand me,” Neuvillette gasps slightly when he feels your delicate palms on his own hands, “but I truly mean it - I…”
Your breath hitches in your throat; the butterflies in your stomach don’t seem to help, but the anticipation has you almost shaking.
“I love you.”
Neuvillette can’t describe the weight that’s been lifted off his shoulders; but the sinking sensation in his stomach of not knowing what will happen next is making him nervous more than anything. When more tears meet his hands yet again, he fears for the worst.
“It’s alright, please do not shed any more tears because of me. I’m happy enough to have said it,” except, he doesn’t. He feels his heart break in half, getting filled by nothing but a void of emptiness.
The clouds become gloomy - looks like it’s going to rain later.
Just as his hands slide down and he begins to turn away, you reach out for his arm and grab it, causing him to spare you one, last look.
“Wait! I’m sorry, don’t go… I love you too, silly.” You manage to murmur the last few words loud enough that he could hear.
Neuvillette can’t believe it’s actually happening. He appears stunned for a minute, watching you in disbelief, but then a genuine smile graces his lips; his hands play with your fingers and silently ask to be intertwined with yours. When your interlaced hands give him a small squeeze, he gives you the softest, most lovesick look with his eyes that no one could ever imagine.
He places a quick kiss on your forehead and leans against it. Neuvillette’s eyes close for a moment, absorbing the fleeting moment.
It doesn’t take long before the chief of justice pushes your chin up with his fingers, his thumb brushing your lower lip, awaiting for your answer, “Can I, ma chérie?”
It only takes seconds for him to finally lock your lips together, and he wishes to feel that tenderness forever from this day forward.
Neuvillette certainly has to learn a bit more about expressing feelings - now, with your help.
The golden sun returns to adorn the clear skies once more.
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cy-cyborg · 6 months
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Writing disability: The Super-Crip Trope, and how to avoid falling into it's harmful elements
The "Magical disabled person" or as it's often called in disability circles, the "Super-Crip" is the name of a trope in which a disabled character has some kind of magic or special abilities, which is used to mitigate or erase the impact of their disability. While not a mandatory part of the trope, many super-crip characters are also stronger than their peers, specifically because of their disability's impact on their powers. So why is this trope so unpopular among many disabled people? There's a few reasons. The main one is because more often than not, Super-crips who are written by non-disabled people are often treated as an easy way out of actually having to deal with a character's disability, and a shortcut out of having to do the research into how a disabled character would deal with certain situations. When these writers encounter something they think their disabled character can't do, instead of actually talking to people with the same disability as their character and doing research, they just write that its not a problem because "magic powers go!"
In some cases, but not all, their powers all but erase their disability completely, at least from the perspective of it's relevance to the story. While, to my knowledge, this was never in the comics or movies, A good example of this is a "fan-theory" I've seen among non-disabled X-men fans who claim professor X could use his telepathy to walk, functionally bypassing his spinal injury (Or his leg injury, if we're going off some of the comics' timelines). This would functionally erase his disability, making it an example of both the super-crip trope and the miracle-cure trope.
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ID: An image of Professor X from X-men, a white bald man wearing a suit, sitting in a silver wheelchair, and another unknown man in a suit standing beside him, framed by a circular doorway, both their faces are partially obscured by shadow. /end ID]
Another reason this trope is disliked is because writer's often have good intentions when using this trope, but they actually end up undermining the points they were trying to make. Often, super-crips are portrayed as badasses in an attempt to show that "you can still be a hero/useful to the plot and be disabled", but the way they portray it usually implies that disabled people, as they exist in real life, aren't useful unless they have something that compensates for their disability or have impossible powers.
So should super-crips be avoided entirely? Some folks in the community think so, but personally, I don't agree. Despite all of what I've said so far, I think there are ways to write characters who technically fit the definition of a super-crip, without it being harmful. There's an argument to be made that "super-crip" specifically refers to harmful version of the trope, so not everyone will consider characters who aren't part of it, but I do, and I think it's important to discuss both the harm this trope can bring, and how this trope can be used in non-harmful ways. Humans (and creatures with human-level intelligence) are adaptable creatures, and in a world where magic exists and especially in worlds where its common, disabled people will find ways to use it to help themselves. but help is the key word there. So let's talk about some ways you can write super-crips, without it crossing the line into becoming harmful. The following are some things for you to consider about your character's disability, how their magic/powers interacts with it, how they interact with the world (and vice versa) and more:
Are your character's powers an aid or a cure?
The first, and one of the most important things to consider, is if your character's powers function like an aid or piece of assistive tech, or a cure? If you boil it down, is the magic helping them or "fixing" them? This can be a cure in the literal sense, as in giving an amputee the ability to shape-shift to get their limb back, or a functional cure, meaning the power essentially by-passes the disability, like the above mentioned professor-X fan-theory. It's not literally curing him, but it might as well be. In a world where this magic or super-powers exist, it's perfectly natural that a character might use the magic to lessen the impact of their disability, but it shouldn't erase it entirely. Give the magic a trade off, make it imperfect. You character can cummon a magic prosthetic, but there's a time limit on how long it lasts for, or their magic needs to recharge it. A wheelchair using mage might be able to engrave magic runes on their chair that allow them to pass over rough terrain, but only to a certain extent. It might allow them to go up-stairs, but it can only be used so many times per day (and make sure you show the times where they need to get up the stairs, but have run out of uses!) Things like that.
Is the power directly tied to their disability?
Is the power you're giving the character directly tied to their disability? There's 2 ways you could read this, and both should be considered. 1. The power is something you, as the author, gave to them specifically because it would help mitigate their disability (e.g. giving a character without arms telepathy so they can still pick things up/hold things because you couldn't figure out how they would be a badass swordsman without it) or 2. Does this character, in universe, have their power specifically because of their disability? e.g. Did our arm amputee develop telepathy through sheer-force of will because they really wanted to be a swordsman, and their determination manifested as telepathy/A god gave them the powers because they felt bad for them/a wizard taught them how to do it because they were inspired by the person's perseverance? If the answer to the first one was yes, perhaps reconsider and do more research. If the answer to the second one is yes, proceed with a lot of caution. Generally, if the powers originate from someone feeling sorry for your character, being inspired by them or anything to do with their determination and perseverance, I'd recommend changing that. However, if the powers came from your character having to adapt something to to their disability, that is really a case-by-case basis thing. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. your success with it will depend on the character, the setting and the specifics of how.
Is this power common, or is this character the only person in the cast/only person we see with this ability?
Is the power you're giving your disabled character rare, or even unique? It's fine to give your disabled characters powers that are common within the world, but if they're one of the only people who has that ability (or similar abilities), ESPECIALLY if it directly helps mitigate their disability, you might want to reconsider that choice. In a world where everyone can fly, it would be weird if your wheelchair user couldn't without an explanation. But if no one else in the story can fly except your wheelchair user, it starts looking more like you just gave them that power so you don't have to think about accessibility in your world. If you really must give your disabled character the rare/unique power, consider making another character with a similar disability but no/more common powers so you aren't just avoiding the issue, or making the power not related to/impact their disability directly (e.g. giving your leg amputee super-hearing.)
Does this power solve a wider access issue in your world, or does it just make it easier for your character alone?
As a general rule of thumb, if you are writing a story where you don't want accessibility issues to be a thing (e.g. a story set in a utopia), focus on fixing the environment, not the characters. Instead of giving your wheelchair user the ability to fly upstairs, give the buildings ramps and lifts. That way, its a solution for everyone with that disability, no matter their access to things like magic or technology. When talking about super-crips, this is especially important, doubly so if your character's power is rare! I made a (mostly joking) post ages ago about an idea for an earth-bender character in the Avatar universe, who gets fed up with republic city being inaccessible and starts earth-bending all the stairs into ramps. This solves the accessibility issue for them, but also makes their environment more accessible for others without bending to get around. Of course, not every disabled character will want to help/care to help others, but often when non-disabled people write disabled characters with powers, they kind of forget that their character won't be the only disabled person in this world. It often feels like they honestly think fixing things for their character means there's no problem anymore, and that's not the case.
Avoid, "I may have [insert disability here] but I can still do stuff because of my power!"
By this, I mean give your character other ways to address issues relating to their disability than just their powers. One funny example I remember reading in a writing group I was a part of was this author who was bragging about how their paralysed character could still drive a car because they had electrokinisis (the ability to telepathically control electronics). Aside from the fact that wouldn't work on all cars - including the one their character drove, since not all cars have electronic components controlling their acceleration and brakes, the way they described it was extremely complex, and overall not worth the effort when the real-life solution, hand controls, was much, much easier and the setting allowed for easy access to that kind of tech. When I pointed this out to them, they said they had no idea hand controls were a thing, and they had no idea that real disabled people could drive. They thankfully changed it, but there's 2 things to take from this: 1, double check that disabled people can do the things you assume they can't, your magic solution might very well not be needed, and 2. variety is important regardless. No one device, or in this case, magic power, should act as a one-size-fits-all solution. IRL disabled people have lots of tools to help us, I have 2 sets of prosthetics for different tasks, a wheelchair, a grabby claw (for reaching things on high shelves when using my short legs and wheelchair) and hand controls in my car (or at least I used to but we won't get into that lol). My prosthetics won't "fix" all my problems, I need other tools too. keep this in mind when it comes to magic too - it shouldn't be the only thing at your character's disposal.
There's nothing to compensate for.
Remember, don't treat your character's disability as something they need to make up for (especially if they "make up for it" using their powers). Your disabled character is allowed to make mistakes, they're allowed to have flaws both related and unrelated to their disability, they're allowed to not be good at some things, and they don't always have to be the best at whatever their roll in the plot is. In most stories, they should be on par with the other characters, or at least in the same ball-park, but as I mentioned before, a lot of stories don't let disabled characters fail. In order to justify them even being present, they are often made out to be the undeniable best, almost to mary-sue levels of perfection and super-crips especially fall into this issue a lot. They can be good at things, but balance it out, like with any other character.
You don't have to use all of these points, but they are still worth at least considering. For example, Toph fails all of these points except the first three. Despite that, she's still one of my favorite disabled characters in media, even if she's not perfect, and I'm not alone in thinking that. I've seen lots of other disabled people say the same about her. Which of these points you should use will depend on your story, character, setting and tone. As I've mentioned a few times now, the key is striking a balance. At the end of the day though, these are only general pieces of advice and a lot more factors go into making a character like this work. only disabled people will be able to tell you if you've pulled it off, and that's where beta-readers and disabled sensitivity readers come in!
Also, remember, these kinds of tropes don't just apply to the more common/well-known disabilities like amputations and wheelchair users, that's just what I have experience with! Be sure to research any disabilities your character has to ensure you are not falling into these tropes.
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autistichalsin · 1 month
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I have tried to avoid discourse around this ever since November, but since people are once again upset at the ultimatum (which doesn't seem to trigger in game yet, though it has been voiced) I guess I will offer my defense of Halsin.
A lot of the anger at Halsin here boils down to "he's against Minthara, therefore fuck Halsin," ignoring that Halsin has very good reasons to not trust her. (And also purposeful misinterpretation of his comments about HER to be about all Drow).
So first of all: We need to look at what has happened to Halsin in his life before arriving at this point.
Yes, obviously, there is his captivity with a Drow noble house, but I think people are kind of just forgetting what that means here. It isn't "he hates all Drow now because of his trauma", which is an almost insultingly reductive take. Minthara is from House Baenre, the top house of Menzoberranzan for centuries. She is at LEAST 200 years old, and likely older; she witnessed the downfall of House DeVir, and was old enough for her to fully understand it, but "young enough that it left quite an impression on me", likely placing her between 200 and 300 years old. Halsin is 350, and was kidnapped as a young Druid- likely between 100 and 175. There is a very good chance that Minthara was a young adult when he was a captive, and he would have heard about her evil actions long before encountering her in the goblin camp. He would know who she was before the tadpole.
Halsin was a captive for at least a few days if not longer, tortured in his bear form (the goblin lashers are mentioned at least a few times, not to mention rocks being thrown at him, Gut mentioning threatening to cut him open and put maggots in his belly, etc), and had his Grove threatened by Minthara.
Most important, and most easy to miss: this ultimatum is planned for if the Rite of Thorns is carried out, hence the reference to Kagha's foolishness. He has lost his home, his place of worship, and the people he considers his family forever. Watch his reaction after you tell him the Rite has been carried out; his world comes crashing down, he lets out the tiniest "the Rite of Thorns? no", and he is so upset he no longer asks you to take out the leaders. He says he needs to be alone for a while. He is grieving the loss of everything he had, everything that got him through the loss of his original family, and it is directly because of the Cult of the Absolute.
Now, let me go through some rebuttals to arguments in Minthara's favor.
She doesn't mean Halsin any harm at this point.
Rebuttal: Halsin has no way of knowing this. Her actions have already demonstrated otherwise- she has caused him harm. He has no tadpole to see her true intentions, like the other players, and Minthara doesn't make her case particularly well. She simply says she "has no quarrel" with him. Not an apology for his sufferings in the past or the loss of his home. If she doesn't regret the harm she caused him, he has no reason to trust her.
And of course, Minthara DOESN'T feel any remorse, whether or not she raids the Grove; if she does succeed, she'll later say her only regret is not making the choice to do it herself. Because she is evil and that's how evil characters work.
2. Halsin works with Shadowheart/Lae'zel/Astarion/an evil-aligned player; Halsin is willing to sleep with the Seldarine Drow twins; Halsin is forgiving and wants a better world for all, this should clearly include Minthara too.
Rebuttal: by rescuing him and saving the Grove, the former four have shown themselves to be capable of good deeds. He is very consistent that his one redline is DO NOT FUCK WITH HIS GROVE. If you DO NOT FUCK WITH HIS GROVE, he will give you the benefit of the doubt. If you FUCK WITH HIS GROVE, he is done with you; if the player raids the Grove, he will hunt them down and attack them, no matter what the player tries to talk him out of it.
FURTHER, he very much calls the party out on any future evil deeds they do (I.E. Shadowheart slaying the Nightsong if she's on the Shar path), and will leave the party if the player sinks their approval low enough.
The Drow twins are Seldarine, not Lolthsworn, and having a one-night-stand is very different than trusting someone as an ally.
The "wanting a better world for all" thing is of course subject to the paradox of tolerance. In the epilogue, it is very specifically mentioned that their commune is "hidden from those who are not welcome, open to any who need shelter." I.E. those who want to cause harm are not welcome to it, because the "better world for all" can't allow, by design, those who DON'T want a better world for all.
3. Halsin hates her because she's a Drow.
He specifically mentions Lolth-sworn Drow here. "Cruelty comes to Lolth's followers as naturally as breathing. I have seen it- experienced it." Minthara literally only abandoned those ways because she was abandoned by Lolth first- only when it suited her.
She still supports all the same teachings (which is why she openly insults surface elf players the first time they meet, and will tell an elf player who becomes a mindflayer that it was an "improvement"), and she uses slurs against surface elves to boot. Minthara is far more racist against surface elves than Halsin EVER is against Drow.
4. Halsin is condemning Minthara to a fate worse than death (unspoken: out of spite) and this makes him not a good person.
Halsin fully believes Minthara to be a threat to himself and the player. He says in as many words that if it's a choice between Minthara's freedom and the player's, he picks the player. In his eyes, it's a choice between Minthara's freedom and the fate of the world since he knows the player is the only one who can defeat the Absolute. He's in a dilemma similar to the player having to decide whether to let Orpheus die or turn the Emperor into an enemy- it's just that people don't realize because we have meta-knowledge, as players, that Halsin doesn't.
5. That "viper" comment is hypocritical.
He isn't referring to Drow as a whole. He is referring to Minthara herself.
Remember, he knew Kagha before she went bad, and knew she was capable of better (better enough that he made her his second in command). All he would know of Minthara was what she did in the Underdark as a Baenre (including owning slaves, which I'm sure didn't do her any favors), what she nearly did to his Grove, what she allowed to happen to him, and that she's now claiming to have changed when showing zero remorse or actual interest in changing anything. Perhaps it was wrong for him to phrase it it as "cannot" change instead of "will not" change for her, but the sentiment is spot on. Minthara doesn't fundamentally change in any path the player brings her on- what changes is, at best, who she considers it acceptable to subjugate.
6. Halsin has no stakes here, it's wrong for him to demand Minthara go when she has more to lose.
Again, Halsin views Minthara as an existential threat to their plan to save the world. He is lacking in personal stakes by comparison, but remember; he also has lost the only home he knows. That is no small thing.
(From a meta perspective, I do think they should have done something like mention the Shadow Druids/Ketheric Thorm loyalists are still hunting Halsin, just to make it more fair, but this was clearly written with the main goal of enforcing the exclusivity. And honestly, I can't imagine all that many people actually want both in the same party on every playthrough? Mostly I saw people wanting to recruit Minthara on good playthroughs, and wanting to not have to abandon the Shadow Cursed Lands to darkness; many of the people I saw expressing this specifically said they wanted to dismiss Halsin after accomplishing that. This seemed like exactly what those players would have wanted, being able to spare the Grove, free the SCL, and then dismiss Halsin and travel with Minthara.)
7. Halsin owes the player his unquestioning trust after they saved him/his Grove/broke the Shadow Curse. He has no right to question their judgment.
This... really isn't a good way to think? He shows his gratitude by traveling with them to help (when he has no tadpole at all- he's doing this out of pure selflessness to thank the player for helping him), but that doesn't mean he should stop having thoughts on the goings-on. Where is this energy when other characters continuously question your judgment when you have them wait at camp?
8. Halsin is being stupid by allowing her to go be mind controlled by the Absolute.
This is one I will concede. It's not the wisest decision, and I can only guess it's because they didn't want to write Minthara automatically going aggro on the player if they choose Halsin over her. (I, on the other hand, think that would be brilliant, and would be a mark in Halsin's favor for this choice.)
9. This is manipulation of the player.
Halsin wishes the player the best, and leaves without fuss, if they choose Minthara over him; he thanks them for all they've done, and he even says he hopes he's wrong, but cannot stay to find out. He is being sincere; he believes he, and probably the player, will be killed if Minthara stays, which in turn puts the fate of the world in question. He will accept the player's decision if they choose her, but he feels threatened and won't stay himself. This is a boundary, not manipulation, not malice, not anything else.
10. Halsin comes across as uncompromising/unsympathetic; this is OOC for Halsin/ruins his character; he is being selfish; other assorted similar sentiments
I already addressed most of the other arguments with the points above, but I will say, truthfully: I don't find this particularly OOC at all. He has been very clear that his one and only rule is DO NOT FUCK WITH THE GROVE. Minthara fucked with the Grove. He has no reason to trust her. And he has ALSO been incredibly consistent: if you are in a situation where it's someone else or you, you have every right to choose to save yourself. He shows sympathy if Wyll has to let Ravengard die, he doesn't blame the player if they kill EVERY DRUID IN THE GROVE to save the Tieflings, he doesn't even blame the player if they order Orin-as-Lae'zel to kill Yenna, an innocent child he was very attached to. He is devastated at the latter two, clearly, but he blames the Druids for the second for forgetting their principles, and he blames Orin for the latter for making the trap. This is perfectly in line with his Druidic beliefs; you have every right to protect yourself first and foremost.
I get that a lot of people don't like the ultimatum (worth noting is that this has always been part of the series; in the first two games, characters of different alignments would outright refuse to work with each other), but it really doesn't make Halsin look as bad as people say, and I feel like a lot of people are being really callous/dismissive/reductive to what Halsin has been through here.
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convito · 29 days
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Blasting Off To The Past: Chapter 1: The Customers Are Used To This By Now
Finished chapter 1 of my fanfic based on @yamujiburo's Jessie/Delia Pokemon comics. The fact that it's just the first chapter is a development that materialized roughly 5 minutes ago when I realized this thing is getting way too long to write all at once. It's just a fun little day-in-the-life story because I wanted an excuse to write these characters.
Here's the AO3 link.
Below is the full chapter text. Enjoy!
“Meowth, I demand to know why you just kicked me!” James yelled dramatically.
“Don’t flatter yourself, I wouldn’t waste my time kicking you!” Meowth
The lunch rush took its toll on everyone in different ways. For Delia, the strain kept her too busy to notice anything outside the restaurant. For Jessie, it meant Delia wasn’t looking at her.
In the case of James and Meowth, it was dealer’s choice. Today, that meant each blaming the other for the table leg they each routinely tripped over. Meowth’s thimble-sized temper had reached a boiling point. James was mad by association.
Delia had been holding down the kitchen until the commotion piqued her attention, prompting a peek around the corner into the dining area. She saw Meowth seething as his serving tray clattered to the ground, trading leers with James whose serving tray remained pristinely perched atop his fingers.
Then time stood still as she saw Jessie burst in with a face that gave her conflicting feelings, making a Beedrill-line for the bickering duo. How she heard the noise from across town would remain a mystery. The love of Delia’s life was a lit fuse heading straight for a flamboyantly colored powder keg. The focus now needed to be heading off the stormfront before it turned the restaurant into a restauNOT (she took a second to chuckle at that).
“Jessie. Babe. Sweetie.”
The red menace continued undeterred. Delia raised her voice.
“Jessie, stop! Jessie! Honey!”
Still nothing. Delia was desperate.
“STOP, DAMMIT!”
Jessie screeched to a halt, bringing the universe with her. She and her two partners in something or other all turned their heads toward Delia, three identical faces of exaggerated shock. Though Jessie’s sported a tinge of crimson.
“I… buh…” she attempted.
“Delia made a swear,” Meowth whispered.
James simply covered his ears.
But whether through shock or sheer force of Delia’s long-bided power, the situation was defused for now. The residual fallout kept things together until the restaurant finally slowed down. James and Meowth lost their abrasion around each other, more or less back to their regular selves give or take the occasional shared look towards Delia. Granted, not unlike their usual behavior.
Jessie, meanwhile, had stuck around to help however she could. At the moment, she was employing her puppy dog eye technique to try and soften Delia’s mood every time her wife looked her way. Despite coming across more like bewildered Magikarp eyes, which had Delia desperately suppressing a snort laugh at every turn, it probably would have worked even if she actually had been angry.
Eventually, closing time arrived. Jessie had finally released Delia from her fishy look and was taking a break from cleaning to watch James and Meowth. The other two former Rockets were Taurosing around with each other as they took the garbage out back. Delia noticed a wistful look in her wife’s eye. It was one she’d been seeing a lot of lately.
“You miss the adventure, don’t you?” Delia asked warmly.
Jessie gave a slight start at this before nodding. They’d grown to know each other well enough that it was no surprise Delia could read her so intimately.
“I know we weren’t the good guys going after the twe- eh, Ash and Pikachu like that,” Jessie seemed just a bit embarrassed, “but getting out there and traveling around really got my juices moving.”
“Even more than our little battling vacations?”
“W-well, I wouldn’t say…” Jessie hesitated, but she knew she never needed to hide anything from Delia, especially after all this time. “Kinda, yeah.”
Jessie’s regular trips out into the region with Delia to explore and battle gym leaders had very quickly begun to rank among the highlights of her life, and she wouldn’t trade them for anything, no matter how shiny. But…
“I just miss the camaraderie with James and Meowth,” she found herself gushing. “I miss the cartoon-level plans we came up with together, I miss the big Meowth balloon, I miss James’ camp cooking and Meowth’s snoring, not to mention-”
“I’m sorry, what was that about Meowth?”
“Oh, right, you never heard his outdoor snoring. Only happens when he’s camping. Real conker of a wavelength he could belch out, which you wouldn’t expect from a little fart like him. I think he developed it as a defense to make predators think a Snorlax is sleeping nearby or someth-”
“What?” Delia had trouble getting a word in edgewise sometimes, a trait of their relationship she oddly treasured. She liked seeing Jessie excited. “No, why would I ask to hear about…? Never mind, I meant the balloon thing.”
“Ok, yeah, that makes more sense,” Jessie admitted. “It was a thing of genuine beauty. A huge hot air balloon in the shape of Meowth. We even used official Team Rocket funds to commission it. They seemed cool with it.”
“I’d like to point out that they did very much fire you.”
“Oh yeah,” Jessie said with a guttural giggle. “Wow, things are definitely starting to make some more sense now that I say them out loud. But anyway, we used to go everywhere in that balloon. It was our own little home where we never had to deal with property tax. We’d sleep up there, have some fun by spitting off the sides, do… other things off the sides…”
“Honey, I love you but oh my god.”
“Hey, if you can think of other ways to handle being up in the air for days at a time…” Jessie’s old smug nature crept in, which she caught before going any further. “Th-the point is I just miss the balloon. It was sort of a symbol of that complete freedom we used to have. Nothing tying us down, literally. No rules. No responsibilities. No bosses or authori-” she paused, her expression that of a system reboot. “How did we not get fired sooner?”
“I didn’t realize how much you thought about that time,” Delia started to feel just a touch of guilt. Or was it jealousy?
“Not 'all the time' or anything. Some things just remind me of that past life. Like how James and Meowth have been sniping at each other a lot lately,” Jessie said with a look of dawning realization. “They must be feeling homesick too. Or, I mean ‘homesick’ I guess,” she made some halfhearted quotes with her fingers. A glance over at Delia dropped the fingers immediately as Jessie read her wife’s expression, as subtle as it was.
Jessie wordlessly walked over to Delia, not rushing, not holding back, simply going. She took her hands in her own and clasped them.
“I am happier now than I’ve ever been,” Jessie answered a wordless question. There was no need to explore the topic further. This is the most she’d talked about the old days since, she realized, that awkward time when she, James, and Meowth had shown up on Delia’s doorstep completely out of options. It was enough that she got it out.
Delia just smiled. It was a genuine smile, but one that obscured hidden depths. Depths that ironically flew right over Jessie’s head.
Once they finished closing, Jessie and Delia stepped out of the restaurant hand in hand, following James and Meowth who had apparently regained their passion for griping. Jessie paid little attention as they fired quips back and forth, sounding to her like synthesized speech from a Nintendo 64 game. She was content where she was, blissfully strolling home with the love of her life. No thoughts, just vibes.
If she’d only opened her eyes, she’d have seen the poorly-hidden look of sneaky determination emblazoned on Delia’s face.
-the next morning-
“Ash!” Delia burst into her son’s room. “We’re making a balloon!”
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carnivalcarrion · 2 months
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Milk theory? 👁️👁️
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ANYTHING FOR YOU TWO!!!!
ok this is gonna be short and mildly insane. i would like everyone to understand that this is pretty much Entirely unfounded & i'm just reading too much into a teeny little thing. however i've convinced myself that this theory is viable against all better judgement
take these mad ramblings with a Monumental grain of salt. im not to be taken seriously ever
so it all boils down to This
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Little
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Motherfucker.
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the milk carton behind Barnaby's house.
it was added with the last large update, and it Immediately made me lose my mind. it's such a... strange thing to add to the map, which already has Teeny Secrets - along with other choice objects that make me narrow my eyes. but this isn't about them.
The very first thing I thought of when I saw the milk carton was the phrase "no use crying over spilled milk". which, of course, essentially means that there's no point in crying over things you can't change / things already done. There are a couple ways i'm interpreting it with this context
Something is going to happen that Barnaby feels personally responsible for. or is responsible for - either indirectly, or maybe he'll do something terrible. i think it's entirely possible that he might do that possible something for Wally. and again, take this with salt, but Clown has implied through trivia and fun hypotheticals that Barnaby would go to lengths for Wally. and yes, i know. taking evidence from "what would the neighbors do in Among Us" is absurd. IN MY DEFENSE! while the trivia isn't really to be taken seriously, there's always a thought process behind character roles and dynamics and behavior, and that is something that can be (carefully) looked into and applied. like in Among Us, apparently Barnaby would, and i quote, "Barnaby does all the Dirty work if Wally is an Impostor- Anything to help his little Buddy out...". anything to help his little buddy out, huh? like, it's been stated that Barnaby knows things about Wally that no one else does. and it's been mildly implied that he's fairly protective of Wally. and we all know that Wally is getting into some deep shit, and whether he means to or not he's likely gonna fuck everything up for everyone. it's not that big of a leap to speculate that Barnaby might do something drastic/horrible/regret-worthy in Wally's name / for his sake.
2. something terrible is going to happen to Barnaby / directly related to Barnaby, and he's going to be absolutely powerless to do anything about it. though i think that's kind of a given... yeah this section is pretty self explanatory
3. Barnaby is going to go missing. because what used to be on milk cartons? Missing Posters! yes yes i know this one is even more of a reach, since milk cartons didnt have missing posters on them till the 80s, but yk. it's a Thought.
my second thought was "oh ok so when the carton spills, it's curtains for Barnaby." this part of the theory is just me being paranoid that Barnaby is going to wind up kicking the bucket - though i suppose if that were the case, there would be a bucket, not milk. well, if a bucket ever appears, i'm going to start prematurely mourning. Still!
the point is - at some point, that milk is probably gonna spill. it may be just a detail as things get better Worse, or it could be indicative of something terrible happening to / because of Barnaby. the milk spills, Panic Time.
Milk Theory.
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yanderederee · 9 months
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yandere!mitsuya takashi x crush!reader
tw: stalking, obsession, threatening remarks, cursing, gaslighting, your normal yan things♡
I’ m not too proud of this piece, but I can’t bring myself to discard. So, here it is if you like it.I also planned to add more friction and more stalking bits but :( I thought it ended on a cute note and didn’t have the heart to keep going. Enjoy what you can♡
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
You had been on Mitsuya’s radar for a long long time now.
Ever since grade school, you both ran with different crowds, so it was hard to get close to you. For years, Takashi has watched you from afar. He knows more about you than anyone, he would bet.
He knew what foods you prefer, which foods you hated, and how you like them seasoned. He knew your favorite shows, he watched them all. Which character troupes you fall for (even knew that ‘Big brother type” guys were your thing), your love language, and how you choose to spend that love. he even keeps track of your monthlies … He knew your size in clothing, down to the specific measurements. Don’t ask how. He knew the shampoo you used, how often you showered—- but still, it was never the right chance to actually talk to you.
Mitsuya Takashi was a fool.
He told himself this every, single, day. He was a fool for not befriending you sooner, before you grew into a relationship with some idiot. It made his blood absolutely Boil.
Mitsuya Takashi fucking hated your boyfriend.
Mitsuya Takashi hated your boyfriend more than absolutely anything. At first, he assumes is was a little crush. A fling even, between you two. I mean, he was an obvious dope. No good qualities about him and it was obvious that as time went on, you wanted less and less involvement with the relationship.
It was also obvious you were scared to leave.
He was furious when he would see the two of you holding hands when you’d walk to school, or go on a date. He wasn’t mad at you, you only craved attention. And it was only fair that you should be admired. But he would damn anyone who dared to take you away from him.
It took time, but Mitsuya found a way to control his rage when we witnessed the two of you together. He had been patient for so long, he could wait for this stupid fling to pass.
It was weird though. Mitsuya really did know everything about you. He could tell when you grew bored of a subject in class, he could tell when you lose interest in a series after it became mundane, he knew when you would start to wander. And he could see it, clear as day on your face.
You were becoming more and more impatient, the longer your relationship went on. Of corse he didn’t know all the details, but he did know that you weren’t into it anymore. He knew you were strong enough to break up with the fool anytime you wanted. So why didn’t you?
That thought kept tripping Takashi up for a few days. He too was growing impatient. What was taking you so long to drop the sack of shit?
He simply couldn’t understand. Until one day, you came in with a look he had never. Not once. Seen on your face before.
Fear.
Alarms start to blast in his ears. What did you need to be scared of? Why were you looking over your shoulder like you were avoiding someone? Like you were trying to avoid someone. Like someone was following you.
You’d never caught Takashi stalking you, even an after all these years. He was good at what he did. So this was all the more concerning to him.
By now, you two were older and it was easier to talk to people outside of your group troupe. But he still couldn’t tell if now was the best time to try threading himself into your life. He weighed the options over and over.
There’s nothing to lose, he concluded. Worst case scenario you ignored his friendly advances. Sure, it was better for you to not even know who he was than for you to consider him a creeper, but he was determined.
Mitsuya took note of the times you were and weren’t around the parasitic form that loomed over you, and decided during lunch would be the best opportunity.
“Ah.. um, y/n, right?” Takashi called out to you, gently. You turned, full attention to his lilac gaze. “Yeah.. um… Mitsuba, right?” You asked with a kind smile. A tinge of pain hit him, but he recovered with a playful laugh. “Close, Mitsuya. Mitsuya Takashi.” He introduced himself with a casual bow. You did the same, and waited for him to continue his inquiry.
“Say… you like Tokyo Mew Mew, right?” He asked. He knew you were into it, you had a cute little Pudding* figure dangling from your school bag. It was basically public knowledge. You blushed at his question. It was a bit childish, and being into anime at this time was target enough for bullying. And Mitsuya Takashi looked like a bully.
“I guess…” you muttered, looking away. “Hm.. my little sisters are really into it, you see…” he mentioned, taking in your figure this close nearly made his heart beat out of his chest. He could actually smell you. Touch you, if he was so daring.
“Well, I mean, they really want to see the new movie that’s coming out. I don’t really know anything about it,” he lied. “They said they’re too embarrassed to go with me, and my mom’s too busy with work to take them..” he rubbed the back of his head as though he was about to ask something of you.
Unsure of how to respond to this complete stranger, you shift your gaze between your fiddling hands and his chin, unable to meet his eye.
You knew better than to do that.
“So I figured since you like it, yo-“ before he could fulfill his master plan, you paused him from talking further by placing your hand up gently.
“I’m sorry… I have to go…” you bow, your gaze shifting between something else entirely, and your fiddling fingers.
He could read your face as clear as glass: you were uncomfortable.
Scared.
Mitsuya narrowed his eyes, testing to see if he could tell where your gaze was wondering to. He couldn’t possibly scare you that much, could he?
“Oh, right… um, well, here,” he said sheepishly. “You can still have the ticket, I don’t think I’ll see it on my own. Consider it an apology for taking up your time.” He gave his best charming smile, pushing the movie ticket into your hands before you could refuse. Oh god, he almost gasped at the feel of your soft hands…
Your hands were warm, from all their fiddling. A little clammy, given your nerves. But so soft. Your hands were so soft and he didn’t want to let go. This was definitely a test of his willpower. But the touch lasted less than two seconds, before he traced his finger tips against the back of your nail beds to release you.
Immediately though, as though his touch was painful, your eyes widened like saucers. That same scared look took over, and your gaze again drifted. He pretended not to notice, instead turning on his heal to follow your gaze. “See ya,”
Making his exit, he followed your gaze to a sickening figure that shadowed the hall. The bastard himself; your boyfriend. Mitsuya knew how to read the way he was looking at you. The way he was glaring at you. At you, Mitsuya seethed. He’d expected to see the son of a bitch’s glare directed at him, if anyone.
That glare.
Takashi had to physically take a breath to hold back the blooming hate in his chest.
How Dare he look at you like that?
Mitsuya reminded himself of his surroundings after someone called his name, and suddenly everything was back to full motion. He hadn’t realized how blinded he was just a moment ago.
Still. The gears in his head were processing full throttle. What was he glaring so disgusted about? Why did you force a smile and apologize so sincerely to him? When you had done nothing wrong, what was he obviously blaming you for? And why was it that in one of the hottest days the week forecasted, you had on your long sleeve uniform top? You almost stood out amongst the school of sweaty teenagers.
Slowly each hint lined up perfectly, but still no evidence. There needed to be proof. He couldn’t just kill someone without good reason—-
well, he could, and he Definitely Would.
In fact, he might.
That look he gave you was reason enough.
.
Despite what one might think, Mitsuya Takashi was a gentleman. He truly loved you. Fully and unconditionally. He’d walked you home from school practically every day. Every day he could, revolving around his sisters and gang, of course.
He could mostly only check on you when you were sleeping, and would leave just after. He never spied on you while changing. Takashi wanted to wait for that.
His heart couldn’t take it, he decided a long time ago. But that was a long time ago.
A lot was taking up his attention these days, though. Toman’s been having a lot more challengers, and Luna was just starting to get into harder mathematics. And Takashi was nothing short of a team player. The best big brother. He had lots of responsibilities, yet he couldn’t help fussing over you too.
Now look, Mitsuya really did want to walk you home everyday. He used to, in fact. But there was just too much he was forcibly needing to attend to. His family always came first. And once the time was right, you would become part of that family. And until then, he had to keep up appearances, responsibilities, and the gang.
Today, Mitsuya decided he had the time to walk you home, too. You walked home with the parasite, but he did like the idea of finding out where he lived, pay a visit perhaps. Unfinished business, and all. He walked a distance, and made sure to keep unseen, until the walk home became a detour to a crowd less street.
That was the only explanation for how he didn’t know about all of this until .. now? Right fucking now?
“Are you trying to hurt me that badly? Really?” your boyfriend sighed, angry and teary eyed.
“No, it isn’t like that,” you tried to explain. “He didn’t mean anything by it. Just a friendly gesture-“
But he cut you off by yelling at you.
“Friendly my ass, he’s been drooling over you for years y/n!”
You rolled your eyes.
“You’re just making that up… I’ve never spoke to him once before today.”
Yet it wasn’t convincing enough. “No, I get it. You told him something you shouldn’t have, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t tell him anything, I …. I haven’t told anyone, I promise.” You seemed to look away.
Mitsuya could see the both of you from his hiding spot, see both of your expressions as you both fought. Finally, you guys actually might break up, and by his unintentional influence? What a dream come true.
Excited, Takashi listened in further, hoping to hear your magic words.
“Really? I think you’re lying.” Your boyfriend nabbed out short.
You gasped sharply when he grabbed you by the root of your hair and tilted your eyes up to face his pissed off look.
“I think you’re trying to leave me behind. You want to leave me so bad. You hate me so much. Wish I would drop dead, even though I’m the one who looks out for you,” he scoffed.
“You would be a target without me. I hear the way the girls gossip about you. How you can’t put together an outfit to save your life. How clumsy you are.”
Your boyfriend gives you a pitiful smile, rolling his thumbs over your cheeks.
“No one talks badly about my baby though. I protect you, I always do.” His expression darkened as he frowned. “But you can’t stand being with me. You just won’t get that stupid idea about breaking up out of your stupid fucking head.”
The whiplash that snapped its way through Takashi’s system was unreal. The wind knocked right through him when he finally caught back up to reality.
Red lights were blaring in Mitsuya’s vision, yet on the outside, aside a hitched breath and a glare that could kill, Takashi was composed and poise. Out on a mission to kill, and he had his prey, and prize both locked in sight.
“Ooi, Y/n-chan,” Mitsuya casually yawned in a greeting to break the muggy tension of the empty school yard.
Your boyfriend visibly rose to full height, which was somewhat taller than Mitsuya. It’s fine. If Mikey has taught anyone anything, it’s to not determine dominance on size.
Takashi Mitsuya was going to rock this guys shit.
“Thought I’d come around to ask if you’d reconsider ‘bout that movie tonight.“ he lied with a sickly sweet smile your direction.
Like your boyfriend simply did not exist in his line of sight.
“Asshole. You got a lot of nerve.” Your boyfriend spoke down to Mitsuya, completely blocking you out of his way.
A nuisance. An obstacle.
—-One that commonly makes your life harder. The same guy who belittled you and kept you complacent. With his threatening words and god knows what else.
“You’re talking to My Girlfriend, I think you’ve forgot.”
“Don’t give a shit who you are,” Takashi whipped back, a look of murder flares his expression red.
“Not’a very respectful way to talk to your partner, someone aught’a teach you some fucking manners.”
Takashi grinned in your boyfriends confused face, the crazed feeling of hate swirled in Mitsuya’s chest, he reminisced in how much he hated the son of a bitch in front of him.
Just before Mitsuya’s instincts took the better of him, and began what would have been a series of combination martial art memoirs. He realized you were still wide eyed and stressed by the conflict before you. He could see you were about to jump in, to try and divert the friction.
Takashi Mitsuya knew what kind of person you were, and loved you for it. Almost instantly, Takashi found himself composed from that wild instinct to kill, from fit in his sheep’s clothing. To be the guy who you needed when things were dicey. Someone reliable to depend on because no one else in this world has ever looked out for you before. Before him.
A fake, kind smile spread on Mitsuya’s expression when he stepped-in uncomfortably close with your boyfriend.
And he whispered.
“You’re going to pay for the shit you’ve done to y/n. She’s not about to see any of that though, you got that you piece of shit?” Takashi’s voice seethed with poison.
“Get the fuck out of here before I dislocate your fucking femur. I swear to god, I can make it look like you just passed out while you lay here winded and unable to call for help while you can’t feel anything below your fucking-“
“M-Mitsuya…” you called out, feigning confidence.
He loved that look.
Mitsuya patted on your boyfriend’s shoulder, soon to bask in the look of primal fear sweating through his shirt. “What.. the fuck is wrong with you? Fu-fucking psycho…” your boyfriend sighed, fumbling to make a few feet distance between him and Mitsuya.
“Please… no more tonight, seriously!” You spoke up, taking a belittled stance closer to your boyfriend.
But Mitsuya gently took your free hand, halting you further.
“Y/n… he’s ready to back off, you don’t have to keep hiding behind him.” He spilled out, his words catching on to your boyfriend as he high tailed his way out from your sights. “I don’t have to be anything to you, but I can’t sit quietly while I know you’re hurting like this. I won’t. So please, let me look out for you, unconditionally.”
“I meant it when I said my little sisters were into Tokyo Mew Mew,” Mitsuya chuckled to ease the awkward tension, pulling out his extra tickets. “Only part I lied ‘bout was not knowing much about it. Binged it the other week, ‘n I’m actually caught up and pretty stoked to see this movie, too.”
“We can still make it, if you’re up for it.”
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solitude4chiron · 10 months
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“Fashion Killa”
Earth 42 Miles x black fem reader
May or may not be a Pt.2 🫣
About ig?: Little bit (maybe more than a little) of Angst and fluff, smoking, kissing but nothing further than that, music, nostalgia, slight songfic using the song “Fashion Killa“ by A$AP Rocky because music is my personality andddd I think that’s all?????
Alr so first post, and first time writing abt any character… I gave up taking Spanish so pls spare me a little 🙏🏾 and if you do write and see anything you could give constructive criticism on it would be deeply appreciated, anywaysss
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The message pinged through your phone disrupting your daydreaming session after a boiling hot shower, you still lay on the bed clutching the top of your towel in case someone barged in. Knowing you’ve lived alone for a few weeks after your boyfriend cut off all communication with you, with the world, but we never officially broke up. So I assume he’s still mine and I’m still his.
“Voy para allá ahora, ma, algo emocionante viene hacia ti. -Amor M” (I’m coming over now ma, something exciting coming your way. -Love M)
Your feet sprang up with the excitement of being able to see miles, the negative feeling your heart stored for weeks crumbled and dropped on the floor. Disappearing from hearing from him. You brush past your anger and focus on the positive, like always.
You and miles had been dating for a year now and it was the longest heart wrenching year of your life, within him being the prowler, living in a city with no hero to protect it and most of all. Breaking open his nonchalant attitude caused by Grief. It had been a lot for you both, but still holding on was the best thing you could do for your heart. Hoping through everything his love for you would never waver.
And within that thought a knock came from the door, you squeezed past the groceries still on the floor after you brung them in a few hours ago to unlock the door for miles, you would hope through all this time was still yours.
“Hi Y/N missed you baby”
And you stared at your lover, cuts sharpening his already hardened face. Hair knotted and neglected, you would assume from being on the run, and clothes slightly ripped. Even though you could still tell he was putting on his best for you. A crate of your favorite things filled one of his arms as you peered inside, 2 vinyls. Long Live A$AP and Nostalgia Ultra, a bouquet of tiger lily’s. Tiny jewelry boxes stacked on one another and some other trinkets and candy’s you would sprawl out on your bed and Indulge in with miles. 
You couldn’t say nor do anything. After Miles’s disappearing act a few weeks ago, seeing him and you within feet of each other made your heart ache to converse with him about every thought that was polluting your mind for weeks.
“I missed you miles, everything about you. Your smile and voice rolling r’s in every word, your music filling my halls in the morning, the smoke on your breath after a long stressful day, braiding your hair. I missed us. Where were you baby? Why did you run?” While choking back tears you kept your head down avoiding eye contact. It shielded you from shedding any more tears while being vulnerable.
“Los siento Amor, (I’m sorry love) I know. I got caught up in some deep shit. I know it hurts you who I am. Deep down I can tell you wish I wasn’t runnin the streets. Yo también ma. (I do too ma)” He said in a disappointed manner because he was disappointed in himself. For almost losing the love of his life.
Realizing y’all were still talking in the doorframe of your apartment. You grabbed and pulled him by his free hand to our room where he put the decorated crate on your sketch filled desk before flopping on our bed and laying his head in your crossed legs. Prompting you to take out his old braids while looking through the box.
“Miles how did you find these? I thought they were discontinued?” You said. Slightly shocked at how well he knew you. Or maybe how well he remembered you
“I have my ways, but I’m hopeful that you still realize I love you, even with the time we weren’t communicating. Lo seinto mami” (I’m sorry Mami) he stated so low it felt like an intimate whisper as he tilted his head back in my lap to lock eyes with me
And that sentence made your stomach coil, because you knew what he did. How it provided for you and his family, and in some piece of your heart deep down you wanted to be mad, so mad, but his guard was down. So you anticipated your words before saying them. Trying not to ruin the moment of vulnerability
“Cuidado, (careful) you trying to hurt me?” He said jokingly and you adjusted your hands while playing in his coils forgetting he was slightly tender headed 
“Miles baby, I love you so so much, but when you’re in these situations you need to tell me something. Anything, I’m not as strong as you, Lord knows that. You know that. Just communicate with me baby. Please.” 
And as if he could feel the tears forming in your eyes he got up from his spot, cupped your face within his rough hands and pressed kisses on your forehead and lips.
“I’m sorry y/n, I promise. Don’t cry over me. Open your gifts babe, everything I do is for you.”
And as time passed you opened boxes of rings with both of your initials engraved in them. Bags of candy that melted in your mouth (you made sure to share with miles popping them into his mouth from above him) old and newly released clothes because fashion is your favorite thing in the world, and little childhood toys you always wanted but expressed you couldn’t afford as a child
You get up to play y’all favorite album and hear miles groan a bit from the sudden movement. You spin the records he got you, listening to the music while talking and taking out his braids. Combing out the old dirt and gel buildup at his roots so it was easier for you to wash later
And somehow your on the last box, after hours of opening gifts and wrappers littering your floor (you knew that gift giving was Miles’s love language so it wasn’t surprising) he asks for you to close your eyes and allow him to open it for you. Coldness draped over your neck while Miles’s breath from behind raised your senses. As fashion killa played from our record player you felt love admitting from him while behind you.
As the song played you remembered the nights you and him would smoke together in our room, window open, moonlight shining through allowing his brown skin to look blue. Lips pressed to each other, tongues exploring each others mouths through each exhale of smoke. Tumbling through our small Brooklyn apartment kissing and touching on each other, backs pressed to each wall in the house. He would call you his fashion killa and sing the lyrics about how he adored your Dior knowing proudly he bought it for you.
“You can open your eyes now Y/N”
And in the mirror you stared in awe at a one and only piece wrapped around your neck. A crystal drop orb pendant necklace. Vivienne Westwood a piece of fashion you’d studied for years since you were a little black girl, feeling a sense you would never have it draped across your neck dripping drown your collar bone.
Until now 
So you pulled him in, and wrapped your arm around his neck using your free hand to play in his freshly detangled hair. Standing on the tip of your toes to reach his cocoa butter covered lips that were now glossy from your clear lip gloss.
“you look cute with my lipgloss on pretty boy” you teased as he rolled his eyes
“shii if you like it I love it ma” and the statement warmed your stomach
Through slight groans from miles and intimate whispers you both expressed your longing for each other very well. One of his hands traced your curvy frame as his other was occupied on holding you up against the wall whilst your legs wrapped around his waist.
“I want you at my level Y/N, not at the tip of your toes. Right in front of my face.”
“You kno you fine huh?” You muttered between sharp breaths
“Definitely do.”  He replied almost instantly kissing your collar bones while your eyes lowered in pleasure
do y’all fw this?
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𝓲𝓶𝓾𝓰𝓲 𓆗༒︎𓆘
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wc: 2.9k reader: afab (no pronouns at all used to refer to reader) warnings: smut 18+; MINORS DNI!!! -- specific warnings under the cut -- swearing, angst, violence (very little depicted and no graphic descriptions), also happy? ending? love? something along those lines. summary: in the case of his failure, the serpent god imugi chooses two new vessels every one hundred years. the primary vessel is raised in isolation and the spirit god awakens in this body. the ultimate vessel lies in wait until it's finally time for the merge. you're so close you can taste it. if only this generation's primary vessel wasn't such a pitiable, loveless creature. modern dark fantasy AU. find other works here ੈ✩‧₊˚ yep it's a 𝓻𝓲𝓬𝓴𝔂 fic. bit the bullet and went for it. though a lot of lore describes imugi as a dragon/lizard king, this version of him is based on the imugi character in the tale of the nine tailed. he's more like an elegant, tortured serpent-human villain? i just think ricky is perfect for this concept and it was fun to write tbh! i took a lot of liberties with the lore lmao. lemme know what you think xx
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EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: experienced!reader and touchstarvedvirgin!ricky, both of them are subby and dominant at different points that's just how imugi rolls y'know, choking (reader and ricky receiving), oral (ricky receiving), p-in-v penetration, cumming inside w/ no protection (i literally don't care if you don't use protection i'd nevershame you just thoroughly research the consequences babe), angsty and dark but also love there's love that's kind of really sweet in this EW so be warned.
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𓆗༒︎𓆘
a young, icy blonde man walks purposefully down the dark, ornate halls of his estate. one would think he was a prince. and they’d be right. just not the kind of prince that first comes to mind.
“ricky, sir,” you beg as you rush after him, grabbing his silk-sleeve covered arm when he’s finally in reach. “please.”
his head whips around, serpent eyes glowing as his pupils contract and expand. you know you’re not allowed to touch him under any circumstance and the palpable rage in his eyes almost makes you regret breaking the long-respected rule.
almost.
“let go,” he huffs, gaze so white-hot it could melt you to a boiling puddle on the marble floor. when you shake your head, he shoves you down, forcing you to your knees in front of him. “let go or i’ll kill you.”
you don’t. you can’t.
not when you’ve seen what happens if he rushes into battle with the gumiho before the merge. not when you know this decision leads to his servants laying him to rest in the garden every time.
not when you know you could wait a hundred years for his return. for the merging process to begin again. 
a patch of scales appears across his neck, glowing green and unnatural in the dim light of the hall chandelier. you know he means it: he’ll kill you. 
he’s done it three times before. perhaps it’s inescapable this time, too.
so you tip your head back. expose your jugular. wait for him to slice his lizard claw through you like you’d seen him do to so many of his enemies before you.
your friends. your family.
you were only sorry they’d have to die in their next lives, too. all for some prophecy they had nothing to do with.
he brings a hand to your throat, engulfing it in his palm and tilting your head side to side as if examining where to make the incision. he looks you over for another moment, before realization hits him. “you saw something, didn’t you?”
your eyes water with frustration, wishing you could just tell him. even if it meant having to sugarcoat things. if only your own curse didn’t make things that much more difficult. 
his awakening happened at eighteen, the power of imugi coursing through him at an uncontrollable frequency. that’s when it always happens: the destruction of the town and everyone that inhabited it. 
knowing what was coming, you hid— lying in wait until it was over. this time, you’d approached him right after the disaster. though many primal vessels didn’t recognize you after their awakening, you could tell in his contracted serpent eyes that, to some extent, ricky did.
ricky, of course, being the new “fashionable” name imugi chose for this vessel. imugi was always one who wanted to appear cool. whatever the trends were of the time, you could bet his vessel would be following them.
he was an interesting god in more ways than one.
when ricky demanded to hear how you’d somehow known to hide from destruction that left every townsperson dead except for you, you’d stuck with your usual explanation: you were a clairvoyant.
it was a guise you could easily keep up, since you already knew everything that would happen between now and your own awakening. it proved useful enough to each primal vessel and ricky took you in: letting you stay as his guest (prisoner) in his secluded mansion estate. 
there were two little problems though: the first being that you weren’t allowed to tell him his own fate. or else you’d both die. learned that one the hard way. 
most times, you could figure a way around this. you were incredibly clever after all and wise with knowledge beyond your years (literally). but with something so direct as life or death, you always found yourself in a bind right about now.
the second little problem was that imugi always liked to present his ultimate vessel with a charming challenge every rebirth cycle. that challenge was that the catalyst for the merge was different every cycle. 
and you still haven’t figured out what it is this time.
“what did you see?” he demands, tightening his grip around your neck. “tell me.”
biting your lip, you nod dutifully. “just kill me.”
“at this point, i should,” he seethes, throwing you further to the ground as he lets go of your neck. “fucking pathetic waste of investment.”
he spits on the floor beside you before turning around and continuing towards the door. it was beyond time for desperate measures.
“quanrui,” you breathe. the name he’d worn in youth before the birth of imugi had ripped through the weak vessel and torn his human self to shreds. the name his keeper used to call angrily when she’d catch him outside playing with you as a child. through the wrought-iron fence... exchanging pretty-colored stones.
he freezes, body stiffening at the sound of his real name. his jacket falls from his arm to the floor.
“i love you.”
he turns around slowly, lips parted in shock. the patch of green scales around his neck dissolves back into pale skin and his eyes turn a deep, chocolate brown.
“i love y—,” you begin to repeat before realizing you’ve chosen the wrong word. “i mean... i need you.”
“need me,” he repeats softly, full lips pouting as the words fall from them. the primal vessel to the dragon king, born without parents and raised without friends, seems to understand this concept more than that of love. he was used to people needing him, even if it was only to keep themselves alive.
you blink back at him, eyes swimming with desperation. are you getting through to him? will he stay here with you?
“show me,” he orders, closing the door and taking a few slow steps toward you. “show me how you need me.”
you force yourself up to your knees as he closes the distance between you, standing in front of you and waiting for your demonstration. you look up at him, eyes locking as your fingers reach for his belt buckle. it’s nothing you hadn’t done before with other, albeit less powerful and handsome, men.
but he hesitates, flinching back as if he’s afraid of your touch. 
“would you prefer to undo it yourself?” you ask calmly, thinking he might just wish to keep your grimy hands off his expensive clothes. 
“it’s... i don’t—,” he stutters, suddenly avoiding your gaze as if his life depends on it. if only he knew. “i’ve never...”
you feign a gasp. of course he hasn’t. he’s touch-starved and brooding and tragically beautiful. a broken man carrying the soul of a god. like every primal vessel before him. “but how can that be true? you’re so desirable, ricky, sir.”
“shut up,” he barks suddenly, a quick smack across your cheek to put you back in your place. “i’m... i’m sorry, just—... just keep going.”
you fight the urge to smile. this vessel had far more heart than the others. maybe that’s why you’d grown quite fond of him in the years since you’d met him.
your fingers connect with the metal of his belt buckle, unclasping it and pulling it through before discarding it with a clank on the marble floor. he jumps at the sound, swallowing hard as his attention returns to your hands on his black dress slacks. 
“may i undo this, too?” you ask quietly, tapping on the clasp and zipper. he nods slowly, glancing over his shoulder as you make quick work of the fastenings. 
pulling his slacks down with his black, satin boxers, he inhales sharply when the cool air hits him. for a different reason, so do you.
you’d be lying if you said your mouth didn’t water at the sight.
looking up at him through your lashes, you wordlessly ask for permission to continue. he breathes in and out shallowly before nodding just once. so you wrap your hand around his length gently, steadying him as you take him into your mouth.
swirling your tongue around his tip before pushing him in even further, you watch as his head lolls back— tattooed neck exposed as a large patch of scales works its way up his body. 
“feels good?” you ask, unable to help the smugness in your voice as you pop him out of your mouth. you pepper kitten licks around the head of his cock as a strangled moan falls from his lips— a clawed-hand moving to cup your jaw, brushing your cheek cautiously.
you notice the young prince continues to avoid eye contact, no matter how much he’s enjoying what you’re doing to him. you suppose it makes sense. he might fear being vulnerable. he probably never learned how to.
“look at me,” you encourage softly, hand pumping him steadily. “want to see your eyes...”
you’re reminded violently to always be careful of what you ask for as you’re tackled to the ground, glowing, serpent eyes no more than an inch from yours. 
“you think you’re worthy of the gaze of the imugi prince?” ricky hisses— hands pinned beside each of your shoulders as he hovers above you. 
he reaches one hand down to the designer pants that he’d bought you for you last year. you couldn’t wear rags in his presence. dragon claws tear through the fabric, ripping them and pulling them off of you. he doesn’t even have to use a claw to rip through your underwear, discarding them as a patch of scales flashes across his right hand. you should’ve expected such theatrics from imugi’s vessel. the smile that is forming on your face is completely erased as he promptly buries himself inside of you— a moan escaping both of you.
he meets your gaze, pompous smirk accompanying his yellow eyes as he starts to thrust into you. this new skill is undoubtedly the effects of imugi’s extensive spiritual well of muscle memory. “are you happy now? are these the eyes you wanted to see?”
truth be told, they were not. perhaps you’ve just had too much experience already with having imugi inside of you...
“quanrui,” you mewl. “wanna see your eyes...”
he doesn’t respond and instead averts your gaze— continuing to thrust into you, silent and detached. you’re fairly certain this will begin just as it started, until...
“is this what it feels like?” he asks suddenly, chocolate eyes full of innocence once more as he looks at you uncertainly. “love?”
the question shocks you, only able to cry out when he thrusts even deeper into you— cock hitting the fleshy wall of your cervix. you recall what you’d said to get his attention. to keep him from storming out of the door and into the clutches of premature death.
of course, you’d been manipulating him. it was your duty to imugi. how sick you are growing of your eternal duty to that snake.
but you nod. you lie. if you wanted a human life free from the serpent king, you shouldn’t have ever picked that flower from his castle garden.
“then i must love you, too,” ricky breathes, emotion emphasized by a collapse to your chest— deepening the angle of his thrusts until you’re begging for release. “i must’ve loved you even through the fence.”
you gasp, partially because of the desperation in his pace and partially because the last thing you expected was for him to utter such a sentimental confession. you could always tell that he recognized you, but you had no idea until this moment that he remembered from where.
“i’ve never met another person outside of my house before,” the little boy said solemnly. “you’re the first. i’m six. i like your socks.”
“thanks,” you replied with a smile. you’d found him again, even faster in this life than the last. the imugi prince. “my name’s (y/n). i’m seven. my mother owns a bakery in town. she gives free bread to all the children.”
“my name’s quanrui,” he returned, corners of his lips upturning softly. “i wish i could go. i’m not allowed to leave. bad things could happen to me. i guess that’s what happened to my parents, anyway.”
with every rebirth, you felt more sorry for the primary vessel. always so confused about their identity until the truth was revealed: they were never meant to have one in the first place. 
“i like rocks,” quanrui said suddenly, digging in his pocket and pulling out a beautiful emerald stone. “i picked this one up by the fountain. it’s pretty. you should keep it. also i like you.”
something as pure as that had never happened before. you begin to smile now, thinking of it.
a familiar sensation in your stomach begins to bubble abruptly, but it’s not the one you’d normally feel during this act. it’s painful. and the intensity of that pain swells rapidly until you’re screaming in its wake.
“what’s—...” ricky stutters, palpable fear in his eyes. “what’s wrong!? am i hurting you?”
scales, green and eerie begin to patch across your skin; vision blurring as your human eyes are replaced with that of a serpent. vicious claws sprout from your fingertips, so sharp you accidentally cut a small slice across his cheek.
he pulls out of you, clambering back as the frightening transformation occurs before his very eyes. he doesn’t have time to worry for long, as a screeching sound rips through both of your skulls. covering your ears,
you count the seconds until it stops— the heinous noise suddenly replaced by something else.
what the fuck...
you hear it: ricky’s thoughts tickling the back of your brain. 
can you hear me? is the merge complete?
his eyes widen as your voice rings through his mind, blinking as if he’s sure he must be hallucinating. no, no, no. this—... i’m dreaming. i just need to wake up! that will end this nightmare and—
oh, i don’t think so, gorgeous. i think we’re finally getting started.
his jaw drops as you crawl towards him, body stiff and cautious as you slink your way closer. your hand reaches to cup his cheek, thumb ghosting over the small incision you made.
“i know this is a lot to take in, but... i’m actually supposed to dispose of you now. it’s unwise for two imugi vessels to be running amuck,” you hiss, fingers running through his long, white hair. “so i’ve had to make a habit of... retiring the weaker one.”
he gapes at you, eyes shifting back and forth from yellow to brown. “you—... you’re the second vessel? that’s why you could predict the future... you knew all along what would happen? since... since—”
“since the fence, yes. i know. what a shame,” you coo mockingly, wrapping your hand around his neck as he’d done to you earlier. you shove him to the floor, flat on his back as he looks up at you. he doesn’t struggle. “and i’m called the ultimate vessel, thank you very much. it’s so tiresome... always having to be the one to step up and educate you primaries. but then again, telling an innocent child he was born to die is a bit grim. even for imugi.”
ricky stares at you, brow furrowed pensively. what triggered the merge?
his question is a good one. i don’t know. what happened immediately before? 
ricky’s eyes widen. “i—... i said i love you.”
love? could that have really been the catalyst that imugi chose? for his vessels to fall in love? there was one glaring problem with that...
i was lying.
“you didn’t mean it?” he asks after your thought permeates his mind. sadness is visible on his face, but there’s something else much more dangerous underneath it. something like suspicion. and you simply can’t have that.
you smile at him softly, starting to roll your hips against his. he inhales sharply at the sensation, involuntarily grinding against you.
“if you walked out that door, the gumiho would’ve ripped you apart,” you assert, hand reaching to his still-hard cock and lining it up with your entrance— sinking down onto him with a satisfied sigh. “imugi can only win that fight after the merge. i tried my best to allude to that, but you primaries always go and—”
“i’m not them,” ricky yells, causing your lips to part in shock. “stop referring to me as the primary vessel. i understand: you knew all along what would happen to me. you manipulated and lied your way into my life. into my home. my body. and i know now that not one of those things belonged to me from the start. but... my heart does.”
your serpent eyes fade as his human ones bore into you. 
“and the only time i ever felt like it even worked was when i was with you.”
could it really be true? was the reason you were so fond of ricky, more than any other primary vessel before him, by design? had you always been meant to fall in love with him in this lifetime?
a love strung up and puppeted by imugi himself. doomed to end in tragedy.
but this boy beneath you couldn’t see that truth. part of you wished you couldn’t either. part of you wished you could be him for once.
“this never happened before,” you say softly, running your free hand across his chest as you slowly start to lift yourself up and down on his cock. even if this is the most brutal end yet, you might as well make the most of it.
“w-what do you mean?” he asks breathily, voice raspy as he grapples with the renewed pleasure.
“in the previous lifetimes,” you respond with a smile. “this never happened in any rebirth cycle. i think we got close to it once— during a battle so hateful that six servants perished... alongside the both of us.”
you feel him gulp under your palm. 
“but maybe this makes sense,” you continue, speeding up your pace. “in every lifetime, you never learn to love. in every lifetime, you rip love from me. we’re a sorry doomsday pair.”
he moans under you, biting his bottom lip as you milk him between your walls. “fuck...”
“i wonder what would happen if we tried to be partners this time,” you say, high rapidly approaching as the head of his cock hits the sweet spot of your upper wall. “maybe we have what it takes to cooperate with each other. not to mention, we could do this whenever we wanted...”
“but... but imugi wants you to kill—.”
“oh no, the killing you part is all me,” you say with a laugh, the vibration making him whimper. “i really hate competition.”
“fucking— please,” he whines, hands rushing to your hips and guiding you up and down as you start to lose yourself. “kill me if you want, just... let me cum before you do.”
you oblige. he moans sweetly, another few thrusts and he’s spilling himself inside of you. as you feel yourself fill up with his warmth, you reach your climax— back arching as you ride out your high.
you look at him. why are you the only one burdened with eternal memory? you’re astounded by the way he grows more beautiful in every life. 
thank you. he smiles, one eyebrow raised. “does my beauty save me from death?”
you capture his image in your mindseye for another moment, leaning down and connecting your lips to his. it’s a tender thing. in no lifetime have you deserved it. 
when you pull back, you smile and shake your head. “i’m afraid i still desperately yearn to kill you.”
“i don’t believe you,” he says suddenly, hands helping him upwards to a seated position. almost-human eyes meet almost-human eyes.
you blink back at him dumbly. what?
“i don’t believe you, because... i found them,” he says, claws tracing up your incandescent, scale-covered thighs. “in your top dresser drawer. in a blue velvet sachet.”
no. wait. don’t say it. please, don’t say—
“the stones,” he says, a charming and devastating smirk on his perfect lips— eyes flashing yellow just for a moment. quanrui. ricky. imugi. no matter how hard you fought it, you loved them.
all of them.           /              all of them.
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raiinbqw · 1 year
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I know you already got a muzan request but I really love yandere stuff of the demons
so if you don't mind id love to request yandere muzan dealing with a darling he finds he can't turn into a demon
muzans a guy whos all ab control ,, and hes got that whole problem with death so id like to see how he'd react to being unable to control the death of his literal obsession
does he start flipping tables?? does he just go " eh, whatever " and then live in horrible depression after they die? 💀
feel free to discard this if it's not that interesting of an ask though 💕
DEVASTATION
characters: Muzan Kibutsuji
warnings: mentions of death.
writer’s note: I loved this idea so much I turned it into a fanfic!
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MUZAN desired one thing: immortality. It would fix all of his problems. He could be rid of those pathetic Demon Slayers, especially that piece of shit with the hanafuda earrings. He just needed that blue spider lily. It would grant him that immortality, the one thing that could save him, the one thing that could grant him rest. Except…
“I’ve been giving these demons my blood left and right. They can’t even give me anything in return. No matter how many Hashiras they slaughter, it’ll all go to waste if I don’t have that flower.” Ah there he goes, ranting about his frustration. “At least, I have one thing that can always make me feel better….”
As he made his way down a couple of stairs, his surroundings were dark and the floor was covered in blood, the smell of corpses and bones causing an odor. Finally he arrives at an iron door, and opens it.
“QUIT IT.”
“I thought you would’ve realized that your attempts to get your restraints off were pointless, my love.“
HE had approached you, his aura getting darker with each step his spontaneously clean dress shoes took, sending shivers down your spine. You were more than aware that he is a vile and cold person, but what could you do? He was far stronger and smarter. It didn’t help that he was possessive over you, his little flower. Caressing your soft warm cheek with his cold hand and sharp nails, his crimson orbs stared into yours, which such…love and care. If only he acted like what he says.
MUZAN put a hand under his chin, pacing forward in though, which surprised you. Was this man that had the image of perfection actually thinking about something? As much as you were surprised, you wondered what he wanted from you and why he came here in the first place.
“I’ve been thinking, love. Since you’re human and I want us to live forever….why not become what I am…perfection…”
He hated your hesitation. It made him believe that you’re putting yourself first and that, that’s selfish in his book. So he kicked your cheek in impatience. “Your hesitation makes my blood boil. I’ve been a good partner. I give you food, love, a nice place to sleep, and you’re hesitating?!” Muzan yelled as you stayed silent, knowing interrupting Muzan wouldn’t be good.
“You’re becoming a demon whether you like it or not…” Muzan stuck his finger into your arm, injecting his blood into your body. To say it was painful is an understatement. Let me tell you, that was worse than a vaccine.
After he injected a good amount of his blood, he left alone as always. He never really had time for you considering his position and hunger for the blue spider lily. He loved you, he truly did. Just in his own toxic, selfish way.
MUZAN checked you on everyday, trying to see your transformation as a demon. Except….there wasn’t one. He was in shock to find that you’re completely human. Of course, he had to do some research as to why. Let me tell you, this took weeks after weeks to find the specific case, but he found out your body was immune to his blood. In other words, you will never become a demon. Ever.
Muzan was devastated by this discovery. For the first time in forever, his cold heart was bleeding, and tears fell from his eyes. He banged the table in frustration as he started throwing down all the books in the research room before promptly turning to leave.
“NO. If there’s a blue spider lily, there is most definitely a way to turn Y/N into a demon.” The demon king snapped his fingers, summoning 2 demons to his presence. They were bowing and said nothing as Muzan was already angered. “Watch over Y/N. I’m going to be working late. Make sure she’s behaving herself.”
He didn’t care what that book said.
He didn’t care how long it took.
He wanted you with him…
for eternity.
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thepeanutgallery · 7 months
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Avatar Generations game: New Team Azula story drop Pt. 2…
[Read PT. 1 HERE]
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Wait WHAT??? Has Azula completely LOST HER MARBLES??? And no I don’t mean the emotionally unstable kind of marbles I mean she is acting dumber then a sack of rocks here, Azula would never do this its completely unnecessary, she is efficient and precise and she doesn’t waste effort and resources when she doesn’t need to.
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TV show Azula only needed to talk to or in some cases just LOOK at someone to get the information she wanted out of them. She was freaking psychic and it was scary.
Also Azula wasn’t stupid either, if you were looking to fix a problem with a city the first thing you wouldn’t do would be to raze down the economy.
several downed peasants and fried dumplings later…
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Azula actually knows this quite well, she has many tactics up her sleeve as opposed to sheer violence, using deception and manipulation that involves gaining trust and telling people what they want to hear are among many of the tricks in her toolbox. Azula is adaptive, they act like she only has one stupid way of responding to everything.
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This is just pathetic, Azula never had any problems getting what she wanted out of people, she never had to convince people she didn’t mess around. No wonder the original VA didn’t take this job, she was the one who said she felt Azula was just so powerful she didn’t need to yell. You can’t just go and name your character banner “Triple Threat” and remove everything that made said character threatening.
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So Mai and Ty Lee basically are acting as the sole voice of reason in this story, and honestly I can at least appreciate SOMEONE pointing out this sheer insanity, although this really wouldn’t work in the actual series. The reason these three could function as a team was Azula being the brains of the bunch, that’s how she worked well as a leader. If this is how their dynamic worked in the actual show I can guarantee you they would have left ages ago before the boiling rock.
I also think the writers just wanted to give a better excuse for them going turncoat when the time came, you know, them joining the “good guys” and all? Like they needed to give them some sliver of moral judgment to justify the switch that didn’t exist in their original version. Reminder that the only reason they switched sides was because they got dumped after defending former group members: Mai defending Zuko, Ty Lee defending Mai. Once again this is because they grew up together and had an attachment, they never had any moral qualms about terrorizing the Earth Kingdom.
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XD Ok, this is actually hilarious. There is like no redeeming this version of Azula at this point. They’ve gone too far. The only thing left to do is just finish the job and run this train wreck into the ground in the most extreme way possible. And no. when I say “redeeming” Azula, I don’t mean making her nice I mean saving her from the wretched screaming brain dead banshee state that she has devolved to. Honestly it really does feel like writers have no clue how to incorporate the Sozin’s Comet incident properly into her character. I dare say this tops even the Search/Smoke and Weed plotline.
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XDDDD lol it only gets worse from here. Can’t wait for more stories. Of course I didn’t expect a cash grab game to get their character correct, but entertainment takes many forms and one is spending valuable free time nitpicking and scrutinizing flop pieces of media. Perhaps I’ll write more commentary when more Azula stories come out. Thanks for tuning in! ;]
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essaytime · 3 months
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I think the main thing that absolutely infuriates me about the "Romeo and Juliet were just dumb, horny teens" take is this implication that because they were so young, their relationship had to boil down to them being dramatic and inventing some great romance to moan about, or lust and hormones. As a teenager, it makes me want to tear the speaker apart with my bare hands. Interchangeably with stabbing, maybe.
When you look at the text, you can clearly see that there is some emotional connection between Juliet and Romeo. Their first conversation is literally a sonnet - which already indicates some sort of understanding and mutuality, and it's also beautiful poetry. They are the only characters in the entire play that they are really fully comfortable talking to. The adults are caught up in the feud, Nurse loves Juliet, but cannot understand her (and makes a dirty joke at her expense in Act I, which for a person Juliet's age would be awfully unpleasant), Romeo's friends, though I Iove them, don't get his sensitivity - Mercutio laughing at it and Benvolio worried by it - which Juliet, in turn, appreciates. They speak of each other with respect and admiration, quite unusually in Verona, where all is conflict and even Juliet's own father insults her: look at the sonnet, the balcony scene, Romeo comparing his sweetheart to the sun or a jewel (in contrast to his earlier quotes about Rosaline, which are literally a compilation of clichés stacked on top of one another). Even when Juliet awaits their wedding night, in a speech clearly centered on sexual matters, there is a visible softness and affection with which she treats Romeo ("cut him out in little stars"...). She waits for the night because it's him, not "I want to sleep with someone because I want to sleep with someone". The two genuinely care about each other, and are fond of each other. Of course, we can wonder if this love would last if they were given an opportunity to grow older, but when the play takes place, this love is there, and it's beautiful.
(Off-topic, I'd also like to note that this is an Elizabethan play that takes place in even earlier times, presumably late medieval - early renaissance Italy. They wouldn't live in the modern world where you can date many different people and settle well into your thirties or fourties. The average marriage age for girls in Shakespeare's time was about twenty, in fifteenth century Florence it was eighteen. Both of them were from wealthy families, so they'd likely be expected - even if Juliet's parents did not force her into a marriage with Paris - to marry earlier, for financial and political purposes. There couldn't be a "growing older" like we imagine it. Even their hypothetical different relationships would be early relationships for today's standards)
And it makes my blood boil when the visible genuine bond between these two is reduced to just "dumb kids being horny". The motive behind these words being partly, of course, the high-school-acquired All Required Reading is Nonsense edginess, but also a deeper issue - the inability to comprehend the fact that teenage love is also often real love.
Being capable of having deep and meaningful romantic relationships does not come baked into your birthday cake when you turn eighteen or attached to your first ever bill. Not every single feeling a teenager might harbour is at its core shallow lust and wanting to get laid. Of course, there's lots of cases of shortsighted infatuation where the pair really have nothing in common! I could name at least a few examples I have seen personally. But still, on every street and every corner of the world, and often a few metres from these pointless infatuations, teens fall in love because there's something more to it. Because they find they have a lot in common, because they get along well with each other, because they are able to see the good in the other person - their kindness, their intelligence, their enthusiasm, you name it. "Teens" including the younger teens, from thirteen to fifteen. And this love is a deep emotional bond. Sure, in most cases it will not last until death (and to be honest, relationships not working out is not really a teenage-specific phenomenon and a sign that young love of all is inherently doomed and it has to die so the curse of growing up is fulfilled), but it doesn't make it less of a love when it still remains, and it includes all the things love is about. Young couples go on dates, and have fun. They confide in each other. They support each other through hard times, they show care, they sometimes make sacrifices for their loved one's good. As any person in love does, at any age.
When I fell in love four months ago, I did not fall in love because I wanted to sleep with someone so bad. In fact, I do not want to - not for the next several years. I realise it's something I might want someday, but it's not today; and above all, I'm way too young. If anything, what I want is to kiss someone, or run my fingers through his hair, or read with his head in my lap - but it's not something I'd go out of my way and date a random person to get, come on. I fell in love because he is actually the first boy that reminds me of myself so much, the first I can understand so well. Because I also have a penchant for history and writing, I also tend to use formal and flowery language in very informal situations, I also enjoy people's attention (though I seem to worry more about being a potential inconvenience than he does), I also believe that we should judge people as individuals, because there's too much nuance in one person to make proper statements about large groups - and I find in him so many things that I can relate to, though of course I can't say I know him well enough to speak much for sure. Besides, he's simply a wonderful person, not flawless, of course, but he has a good heart. He is always kind, and well-mannered, and intelligent, and you can laugh with him. He would care if something bad happened, no matter if he says that he wouldn't. I think I know him well enough to say this at least. And if he loved me back (a thing I consider unlikely for now, but not entirely impossible), would we stay together forever? Heaven alone knows! Maybe not! It is up to the higher power. But even if we broke up, that wouldn't erase the fact that I loved him, and I would have done a lot for him, and we were able to have meaningful conversations. Just because a love isn't forever, doesn't mean it was never there.
Because - what the "dumb kids" people don't seem to grasp - teenagers are also human beings with a functioning, even if not fully developed, brain, capable of having complex feelings and thoughts just like an adult. Note that Shakespeare's leads, at least Juliet, actually do that - hence the pre-wedding night monologue, the "deny thy father and refuse thy name", her statement (I don't know the English original of that one, to be honest) that she is too soft and loving towards Romeo already, but it's because she has such profound feelings for him she can't even pretend to be strict. It's noticeable that she has some emotional maturity, at least - she shows some critical thinking abilities, she understands the consequences of many actions, she is able to see that the feud is pointless and a name is just a name. She's a teenager, and someone in their teens is also a Homo sapiens specimen, not a being from a different planet. Teens think and feel. It might not be the same reality as the adult one, and they don't deal with emotions with such ease as an adult would, but that doesn't mean they are unable to truly love and care, to enjoy talking to someone and want the best for them, like grown-ups do - as developing an affection for someone that makes you happy is a very human thing, and I can guarantee you a thirteen or fourteen-year-old is a developed enough human being to experience it.
So, to sum it up, if I hear any "Romeo and Juliet were just dumb kids being horny" on my watch, the author of this statement will presumably be mercilessly killed, and then I'll do as Fulvia allegedly did to Cicero and stab something through their tongue, except instead of a hairpin, I'll probably use one of the darts my little brother got for Christmas. They are very sharp. We have several holes in the floor already.
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sillyfiresong · 11 days
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The reason I like kabumisu boils down to the way Kabru is set up as a character, then the way Mithrun is introduced, and how the two are forced to interact.
My silly little thoughts under the cut.
Kabru is set up to be someone who isn't honest because he doesn't feel he can be, he holds his cards close to his chest and always has a knife hidden somewhere even in the most seemingly benign interactions. He's deeply traumatised and his sense of threat is HIGH. The higher his sense of threat the more he masks and pretends. He reads people then manipulates them based on what he knows of them i.e. feigning interest and a lack of disgust in monsters/eating monsters with Laius. I think he's even like this with Rin, he seems to know she likes him and he's flirtier with her despite his relationships page saying he sees her as a sister.
So we can establish that his guardedness and manipulativeness is there even with those he clearly cares about a lot. If it was a choice between fight, flight, freeze or fawn, Kabru's natural inclination is fawn. It's a great set up and he's a fascinating character who I'd love to analyse more.
When the elves arrive and we see how Kabru dislikes them because he doesn't like how they treat shortlived races. He doesn't want them swooping in and take the dungeon from tall-men because that's what they always do and they always treat humans like children.
When we meet the canaries we actually get to see his point proven because everyone finds out he's Milsiril's adopted son and are like "oh wow you're so big now, you want some cake?!?!?!?"
Additionally when he says that the dungeon is in the nutrition stage of it's development he gets called crazy and treated like he doesn't know what he's talking about.
However this is not the case with Mithrun.
Mithrun knows Kabru is right and he doesn't treat him like a child, but rather as a source of knowledge about this particular dungeon. His methodical way of approaching things and lack of shits to give means his reaction to Kabru is totally different from everyone else's and he doesn't see him as just a little guy but as an equal, admittedly as a potential tool, but also as a potential threat. He's worthy enough to negotiate with, and there's no patronisation or sense that he's looking down on Kabru just because he's a human.
From Kabru's end, we initially get to see Mithrun through his eyes. Mithrun is a character who continuously subverts expecations; first by taking Kabru seriously as a leader/information source/tool in conquering the dungeon, then again by having 0 sense of direction despite being such an authority figure (this seems to be the biggest one for Kabru at least), then again by having an unexpectedly awesome fighting style... etc.
When they do end up spending time alone together, Mithrun continues to subvert Kabru's expectations of him from the moment he wakes up. He doesn't want to continue fighting him, he's not someone who cares about niceties, and he's pretty vulnerable in unexpected ways despite being strong and great in a fight. As a result we get to see a different side to Kabru; a gentler side, a side where his thoughts and actions add up.
Now this isn't to say that Kabru was never kind or gentle to begin with because he was, he wouldn't be doing what he does if he weren't and he clearly cares for his comrades, shows a lot of concern for the crowds in the dungeon as well as humanity at large, what I mean here is that it becomes a lot more overt and personal when he's with Mithrun. He clearly feels for him, particularly once he learns about his past, and as such he's gentle with him, wrapping him up warm, gently laying him down, telling him to rest easy when he passes out, and thinking inwardly that he'd like to make him something nice to eat. Also he massages Mithrun's feet instead of just learning the sleep spell and casting it on him. What's more he looks after Mithrun SO well that even Lycion comments that Mithrun's hair is looking glossier than usual when they reunite after a week of Mithrun being under Kabru's care.
Kabru's people skills become something really important here, he doesn't treat Mithrun as a burden and he puts his skills to use in helping him and caring for him.
Ultimately over the course of their time together Kabru and Mithrun learn that they want the same thing. That's why Mithrun decides to go with Kabru instead of just going back to the canaries, because he recognised Kabru from the beginning as an equal and someone helpful. Eventually he even sees him as someone pleasant to spend time with, which is why I think he smiles when saying he'll go with him. He could have been more impersonal and pragmatic, but he asks Kabru what he wants (partially because he probably already knows) then smiles and says that's what they'll do. It's more personable.
This commonground and equality is also why Kabru continues to care about Mithrun even after he stops needing to take care of him to guarantee the survival of the others from the threat of the canaries. And it's why Kabru doesn't give up on Mithrun and stokes new desires for him once the winged lion has been defeated. Kabru never saw Mithrun as a lost cause, and Mithrun never saw Kabru as a harmless little human. They have mutual respect, they see each other the way they need to be seen on a fundamental level, and it's great for both of them whether you see them as romantic or not. They play a huge part in each other's development over the course of the manga.
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tavyliasin · 2 months
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A gift, from Tavylia and the Dear Abdirak fans who made this happen, and of course the star of the show himself~
Hello darlings, dear ones, and sinners all~ This cameo is our gift, for all of us who know pain a little too intimately. Written and joint funded by Abdirak fans and Lia, to provide some measure of comfort. Please, enjoy, know you are heard, you are loved, and you are never alone when enduring the most intense of Loviatar's affections. (And all my gratitude to Declan for making this so very swiftly right before going offline for his holiday)
--- The script, including content there was no space for, and some more notes from Lia, will follow after the cut~ This one is clean, no NSFW content, so feel free to proceed at your leisure. For those new here, please be aware that the majority of my content is around NSFW writing with a few art shares and essays on fandom things. Welcome, and I hope you enjoy your stay even if you're only here for this one video.
About The Script
Even with the additional payment, the maximum character limit in a request is 650. My original draft? 1117. We got out the knives, we cut it up, we boiled it down to the most pertinent line, and still had to defenestrate some of the punctuation. Far be it from me to ever know the meaning of brevity, loves, simply not in my extensive vocabulary. I also cannot thank Declan enough for the stunning performance, both in the game and in the cameo, and for giving us a character who we can relate to and adore in so many unexpected ways.
The Script We Sent
[greeting] Loviatar Maiden of Pain felt the echo of your pain singing through infinite realities. In her mercy, she has allowed us to speak. Agony is a cloak that you wear, armour you cannot remove, it is as bound to you as the guilt you feel for its very presence. I might envy you, but you did not choose this path. Your penitence is unnecessary. Let go, dear one, do not punish yourself further. The ebb and flow of exquisite torment, the rise & fall of the tides, you need not try so hard to swim. Breathe. Whether it is of the flesh or mind, your devotions have been heard. [reminder to share burdens/rely on each other/not alone/anything else]
The Original Draft Script
Greetings, Dear Ones, beloved of Loviatar - perhaps too beloved, in your case… Your pain sang through the fabric of the planes of infinite realities, catching and pulling at the Weave like a loose thread. My Goddess, the Maiden of Pain, she felt your echo through her web. Through her mercy, she has allowed me to speak with you. Agony is a cloak that you wear, an armour you cannot remove, it is as bound to you as the guilt you feel for its very presence. I might envy you…but you did not choose this path. Your penitence is not necessary. Let it go, dear one, do not punish yourself further. The ebb and flow of exquisite torment, the rise and fall of the tides, you need not try so hard to swim through them all. Breathe, keep your head above the water. Whether it is of the flesh or of the mind, your devotions have been heard by our most beloved Maiden of Pain. You endure it well, and you are not alone. There are other voices that sing her melody, listen for them, share your burdens and know you are all very dearly loved by the most gracious Loviatar. Even if her affections are a little excessive…
Lia's Notes And Thanks
First of all, a HUGE thank you to the dear ones who helped this happen, with encouragement, editing advice, and throwing some pennies in the pot to cover the cost I couldn't do alone. I shan't name names but you are already well aware of the endless affection I hold for you all. For everyone else, I really do hope this brings you some measure of comfort. It's important to recognise how much we tend to give of ourselves even when we suffer most, and how harsh we can be towards ourselves too.
You are not a burden, having needs is normal and natural, the people who matter most should be there to support you just as you would wish to be there to support them were your roles reversed.
We can rely on each other to a degree, even if it is just to listen, to say "I understand, it's alright to feel all of the things you are feeling. You do not have to be strong, you do not have to wear that mask of endurance with me." So do let go of that guilt, dear one, it does not serve you. If you would like to read more of a discussion on chronic pain, Abdirak, fandom, please see the main essay on the topic (click here) though be aware there is discussion of the more spicy topic of how pleasure and pain can be entwined, even for those of us who feel too much pain in our every day.
Tavylia's Offer
I'm going to round this one off with a simple offer to you all. Should you wish for words of comfort from a beloved character (probably BG3 but if I know the character well enough I can try others), send them to my ask box, or on Discord/Twitter/Anything on my Carrd. This is what I have worked on before, mostly SFW (only some light suggestive moments) as the focus is on comfort to the reader.
Abdirak - Migraine Comfort Yurgir - Migraine Comfort Tav - General Comfort, with Audio Multi-Character Comfort Drabbles (Including Abdirak)
If my little words can bring you any measure of comfort or relief, you need only ask.
Farewell for now, Dear Ones, darlings, loves, Pain Pals, - all of you. Please take care of yourselves - hydrate, nourish, and for the sake of the gods please allow yourself some rest and be kind to yourself for a change. And I do mean all of you. No exceptions, now. Love yourself with grace and forgiveness, care for yourself as if you were the most precious friend you have ever made. I hope to see you all very soon~
May Loviatar's blessings be more merciful. ~ Lia
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jadeazora · 16 days
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Honestly tho, this is years off, probably more than a decade, but I hope just because we're getting a Kalosian Legends game, that they don't skimp out on giving Kalos an actually GOOD remake when the time comes.
Especially as far as Team Flare-centric characters go. They had the most potential as a villain team, and XY dropped the ball so bad with them, I would hate for a BDSP-esque remake to do the same. No joke, these guys were most of the reason I wanted Z back in Gen6.
Like, Lysandre is pretty much at the forefront of Kalos' tech and communication, and is a very influential person there, they could do something with Malva running cover-ups for Flare in the news media, the entire organization is probably full of politically powerful people given the wealth of their members (Kalos could be quite corrupt for all we know), they have this secret stranglehold on the region, and it's scary, like no one in Kalos really had any idea how fucked they were until it was (almost) too late. Even the Champion was likely completely in the dark, their strongest line of defense was a total no-show, even when the Ultimate Weapon had been raised.
We can definitely pin that on Malva tho, since she keeps all of Kalos in the dark with her job in the news media, and as a mole in the E4, she likely keeps any sensitive information from Diantha too. And she gets away with ALL OF IT. Diantha never even knows, like even as far as Masters, she doesn't seem to be aware of Malva's true allegiance. And Malva never shows any regret or anything for what she did, she tries to justify it. She's even actively hostile to the player for taking them down, and routinely threatens to burn them up where they stand. (And this is before she becomes an accessory to murder in Masters, like, this woman smiles as Lysandre prepares to have Volcanion flash-boil a couple Rocket grunts. What is wrong with her.)
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Even the grunts, they're essentially a genocidal secret police of elitist fuckheads who don't give a single flying shit about throwing everyone else under the bus so long as they survive, listening in on Holocaster conversations and having some implicit plainclothes agents (showcased more in Masters tho), and given how wealthy the organization is, it would be very easy for them to make problem people disappear. Imagine if they played up that paranoia factor they have, like, you're on their radar getting into battles with them and interfering with their plans on the regular, Lysandre calls you at multiple points (and definitely knows you're the one causing trouble before the player character finds out he's their leader), you're definitely not safe.
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Also, it would have been neat if Sycamore had been in on it too somehow, maybe a joint leadership with Lysandre or something with how he plays off the man's blatant bloodlust as just him being "passionate"? I was side-eyeing him my entire first playthru. But even tho that turned out to not be the case, it would have been cool if one of them tried to save the other, be it Lysandre kidnapping Sycamore to try to spare his friend from the culling, or Sycamore joining you on the front lines to try to talk some sense into his friend. It was such an interesting dynamic at the time, and it was always such a waste it barely got any development. (At least Masters and Evolutions have made steps to fix that complaint since, but still.)
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gffa · 4 months
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Have you watched the First Okiro's recent Star Wars video? He made a really interesting case about how TLJ Luke was a form of character assassination. When I saw the ask you answered about how Luke treasured Yoda and read the last paragraph, I thought maybe you'd agree.
https://youtu.be/r0I86ii2N_8?si=-oHY6dQsFBsSAfPv
Hi! Honestly, I pretty much refuse to watch any Star Wars video essays anymore because so many of them are anti-Jedi and I don't think it's fruitful for any of us for me to put myself through that, they don't gain anything, I don't gain anything, etc. So I have no idea what the case being presented in the video is, I'm only going on "character assassination" in TLJ and how I actually disagree. I mean, I think it was poorly executed in some ways, but that the basic concepts of it are ones I actually think are the best parts of the movie. My problems with TLJ's Luke story is that I think the extremity of it was too much, that him being on the island for six years without contact with anyone was too long for how I see Luke, as well as I think the structure of having Han die and not showing that deleted scene of Luke mourning his death, of having Luke interacting with Rey but making it all about Ben, none of that worked for me. But what does work for me is that the idea of overcoming pain and suffering is a one-and-done deal is just not how Star Wars or the Force works. Luke very nearly fell to the dark side in Return of the Jedi, that wasn't just put there for the aesthetics, that was something he was genuinely teetering on the edge of, he was raining hell down on Vader when slicing away at his arm, Sidious genuinely felt the anger and rage roiling inside Luke, he had to struggle to turn away from it and embrace what it meant to be a Jedi.
That's not a one time struggle--that's something characters face their entire lives. And if you include the Disney comics (which are really good imo), Luke struggles with loss and pain and anger after the defeat on Bespin, he has to struggle through not falling to the dark side again. And, hell, even MARK HAMILL says that Luke's fall down the reactor shaft on Bespin was akin to him basically trying to commit suicide because he was so devastated. So I think it's fair that Luke could struggle with that again later in his life, I think it's fair that after pouring everything of himself into building up the Jedi again, to have it torn down by someone he loved, someone that he may have bordered on attachment to (as Star Wars and the Jedi define it--love and attachment are not the same thing, attachment is the desire to hold onto something/someone so tightly because you can't live without it and thus you can't see it clearly, which I think I could believe of Luke, that he was so blinded by his desire for what he wanted for Ben that he couldn't be objective about him, just like he struggled with loving his sister so much that rage boiled inside of him when Palpatine threatened her and Luke's friends on the second Death Star), that he retreated because this felt so massive and he felt like he was the only one who could build this school and that he pulled these kids into this life. Like, it's fair that Obi-Wan struggled with Anakin's betrayal and cut himself off from using the Force on Tatooine, so I think it's fair that Luke struggled with Ben's betrayal and cut himself off from using the Force on Ahch-To--they both had to process that grief and it's not always a perfect path when it's someone you love that dearly and were so incredibly close to. Ultimately, the entire speech Luke gives is one that is DESIGNED to be knocked down, he is literally standing in front of the First Order and facing them down with his laser sword at the end of the movie, Rian Johnson literally says that it was Luke's personal failure, not the failure of the Jedi religion, and Luke finds his feet again. And that's my guy!!! The guy who makes mistakes, but is such a core of goodness and compassion and care for others that he eventually gets over these massive hurdles placed in front of him, and so that part of Luke's story worked for me. I'm just not wild about the finer details of how it was actually executed, even if I think it's fair to point out that Rian Johnson was handed a pre-existing situation that he then had to reverse engineer a backstory for with an extremely limited time to do it, because apparently THEY DIDN'T PLAN OUT THE TRILOGY AHEAD OF TIME for fucks sake.
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