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#being more specific isn't everything it's cracked up to be sometimes
gideonisms · 3 months
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I become 300% more of both a lover and a hater when I'm on my period. just a time of the month when I have strong opinions I would say
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vanteguccir · 3 months
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Sleeping inside her | Matt Sturniolo pt. 2
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Matt Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Matt wakes up the next morning and just wants to fuck Y/N.
Warning: Smut (mdni), somnophilia (consented!), p in v, fem masturbation.
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
Part 1
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Matt felt his senses slowly return the next morning. The sun that came through the cracks in the blinds kept the room warm and welcoming, warming the blanket that covered his body. The sounds of birds outside and Y/N's light breathing filling the space.
The boy tried to move, holding his breath for a moment as he felt his cock being pressed by his girlfriend's walls, keeping him warm and hard, then remembering how they went to sleep the night before.
His blue eyes closed as Matt tried to focus on anything but his completely naked girlfriend next to him as his cock was buried inside her, the scent of her skin keeping him high. But all his self control was lost when his girl's hot, sticky walls squeezed him tightly while she was still asleep, seeming to want to expel him out or bring him in more, Matt wasn't sure.
The boy wrapped his left arm around Y/N's waist again, careful not to wake her, before lifting his own left leg and placing his foot on the bed, so that he could guide his movements more easily.
Matt pushed his hips back until only his head was inside, before slowly inserting his length again, letting out a breathy sigh at the delicious sensation, thanking Y/N for using lube the night before, which along with her wetness made the contact easier and more pleasant.
Matt rested his forehead on Y/N's shoulder, closing his eyes and focusing on the sensation, his hand going to one of the girl's tit on instinct, massaging the area carefully.
His hips seemed to take on a rhythm that he was already very well accustomed to and would never tire of doing, a calm and slow one, specific to moments when he wanted to love his girl and feel every little part of her perfect body.
His back flexed with his movements, sweat starting to accumulate on the back of his neck and biceps as low pants fell from his lips.
The wet sound that Y/N's pussy made with each thrust was the only thing that filled the room, increasing Matt's arousal.
It didn't take long for the girl to wake up, a moan escaping her lips before her eyes even opened.
"Matt- Fuck." Y/N moaned slowly, pushing her hips back against the brunette's pelvis, eliciting a low moan from him.
"Morning baby." Matt said in a low voice, the fingers of his left hand now able to pinch his girl's hard nipples, pulling them, making Y/N arch her back so that her ass was completely pert and her chest was fully forward.
Matt's right arm, which had previously served as a pillow for his girlfriend, was now around her neck, forcing her head back so that he could see her expression over her shoulder. Y/N's right hand quickly snaked its way until it stopped on Matt's arm, which served as her special necklace at that moment, squeezing the spot tightly as she licked her lips, wetting them.
One of the greatest pleasures for the boy was watching his girlfriend's pleasured features as they fucked or made love, the way her eyes rolled back and her eyelashes fluttered, the way her mouth opened in a perfect circle as her tongue lolled out or arched inside her mouth at the sensation, sometimes her full lips being bitten hard by her teeth in an attempt to silence her loud moans.
Matt was able to adjust his feet so that his thrusts were deeper and stronger, but keeping them slow, not wanting to break the spell of the moment. His cock moving in and out of Y/N at a single pace, taking out almost everything and then thrusting his entire length until his red head hit the spongy spot that made his girl see stars.
"Does it feel good, baby? Does it feel good to feel my cock moving in and out of you so easily? 'Was made for me, hm?" Matt whispered against Y/N's ear, hearing her gasp and moan in response.
The girl took her left hand to Matt's back, grabbing his ass and forcing him to go deeper, rolling against his hip and Matt followed her movements, Y/N's eyes rolling as she felt his dick hit points inside her that she didn't think was possible
Sex, fuck or love was always like this with Matt, no matter how many times the two got intimate, the boy always managed to surprise her.
Matt moaned hoarsely when Y/N made a specific movement that made his dick twitch, feeling suffocated by her moist walls. He lifted his left hand, which was previously on her tits, and brought it to her bare shoulder, removing the strands of hair stuck there by sweat, planting kisses on the area, his blue eyes opening and closing constantly, feeling like he could drown in the intense pleasure.
That same hand snaked down his girlfriend's body, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind, stopping at her hip momentarily, where he squeezed tightly, smiling at the idea of ​​being able to look at the area later and see the imprint of his fingers adorning her skin in a perfect way, almost like an art.
Y/N felt unable to form coherent words, moans, and murmurs escaping her lips along with gasps and sighs, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration and pleasure, wanting to stay there forever.
Y/N's body twitched on its own as Matt moved his fingers nimbly across her clit suddenly, his hand going from her hip to her pleasure point in seconds, moving his index and middle fingers in circles and then up and down at its own pace, his hand acting automatically as if that action was already engraved in his memory.
"Fuck, look at you, I could watch you like this all day." Matt murmured, his blue eyes fixed on Y/N's face.
His hand acted quickly to lift his girlfriend's left leg into the air, his fingers pressing the inside of her knee, starting firm and faster thrusts, looking for his own orgasm, wanting to reach it with his girl. Matt took his cock out only halfway and came back in with force, making Y/N feel each of his veins massage her walls and his head press against her magic spot. Her hip movements became more frantic and uneven as her head fell further back, slamming the back of it against Matt's shoulder, telling him that she was close to her orgasm.
"Please Matt, I need- Please..." Y/N begged, unable to form a complete sentence, only able to think about reaching her peak.
"Do you want to cum, babe? Are you going to give me one, hm?" Matt asked against the top of her head, closing his eyes as he felt his own orgasm begin to rise.
"Please. Please, Matt, please." Was all Y/N could say, her hands clenching into fists in their respective places, marking her boyfriend's skin and crumpling the sheets.
"Cum for me, love." Matt whispered and his approval was what made Y/N collapse, her legs shook incessantly as her stomach contracted, the fingers of her hand taking on a white color with the strength the girl used in her grip, her head pushing firmly against Matt's shoulder as her eyes rolled back tightly, her mouth open in a perfect O as loud moans escaped her rosy lips.
The image along with the way Y/N's pussy squeezed Matt's dick tighter than before brought him to his own orgasm, strong and hot jets reaching the depths of his girlfriend's pussy. His left hand went down from the girl's knee to her thigh, squeezing the area tightly, while his right hand, still around her neck, clenched into a fist in pleasure. His own thighs shook from the intense orgasm as his mouth opened and gasps and sighs came from his lips, along with some moans and calls of his girlfriend's name.
A few seconds passed and the two felt the waves of pleasure gradually diminish, their minds becoming active again as panting echoed through the walls of their shared room.
Y/N opened her eyes slowly, her vision adjusting to the brightness of the room that was almost imperceptible before, lowering her leg that was still in the air.
Matt took his length out of his girlfriend slowly, afraid of hurting her, knowing how sensitive she would be, his left hand going to her stomach and caressing the area affectionately, kissing her shoulder repeatedly.
The girl lightly squeezed Matt's arm one last time, before taking her hand away, turning on her boyfriend's bicep so that she was now facing him. Matt's right hand quickly found comfort in Y/N's hair, caressing it.
"Hi." She smiled big, her eyes shining with love.
"Hi." He responded, laughing lowly as he brought his face closer to hers, his lips finally finding the ones he loved so much, his tongue passing through Y/N's closed lips, wetting them and asking for passage, which was granted.
A slow kiss began, the kind that makes you want to stay there forever, the kind that allows you to breathe through your nose calmly, lengthening the time of the gesture.
Y/N broke the kiss, placing her forehead against Matt's and closing her eyes, breathing in, absorbing the natural scent of the brunette's skin and the lavender of the blanket.
"I love you." Matt whispered, his left hand making a calm and affectionate path from her thigh to her waist, touching his nose to hers in an eskimo kiss.
"I love you more." She responded, letting out a low laugh at the gesture and moving closer, pressing their bodies together, her face settling against Matt's chest so that the top of her head was under his chin, her right arm wrapping around his waist. A sigh of relief and comfort escaped her lips, her mind convincing her to enter a state of sleep again.
"Sleep, baby. Today, we have the day to ourselves." The brunette muttered, knowing it was Saturday, so she had no work, and he had no videos to record. His lips found the top of her head, kissing the area for long seconds while he inhaled through his nose, instantly relaxing, being able to enter the world of dreams again.
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shalotttower · 3 months
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Fractalize (part 2)
Title: Fractalize Fandom: Hunter x Hunter Summary: "You do this sometimes," he continues, tugging a bit harder. "When I ask a question and it takes you longer to respond. When we watch a movie, and I'm sure you stopped following at least twenty minutes ago." Word count: 2100+ Characters: Chrollo x Reader (female) Notes: yandere Chrollo, kidnapped, depressed and miserable Reader, Reader is dissociating, morbid pondering, morbid imagery, psychological manipulation, intrusive thoughts, non-con touching, non-con kiss. I start thinking that sad is probably my favourite genre to write at this point. Part 1 Part 3 is in question. I have some drafts, but not sure if it'll become anything.
Fractalize - making things into smaller copies of themselves over and over again.
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Your mother always smelled of fresh linen and something powdery, like her face cream which you tried once in secret. The fragrance held you mesmerized, and when the jar accidentally dropped from your hand, shattering into pieces, it lingered everywhere: on the bathroom tiles, in the cracks and narrow space under the sink. Her silent disappointment was so overpowering that you cleaned the mess three times.
That scent clung to her knitting needles too when she sat with yarn on her lap. It made way into your mind place, waiting for the most inappropriate of moments to resurface: she would show you how to knit, loop after loop, and eventually you were able to create your own tiny scarf.
Hideous, that's what it was.
But also the first thing you ever knitted, so you cherished it, not caring for the holes and loose threads. She called it pretty, mothers do lie like that.
"I was thinking," Chrollo begins. Clean plates are stacked next to a dish rack, ready to be dried. You help him sometimes with this mundane chore out of boredom or a faint allusion to the life you had.
"Mm."
When you stand so close, his shoulder occasionally touches yours, and a lump forms in your throat, a very unimportant physical aspect of your being that you've stopped paying attention to long ago. You swallow it away, like every single morning before putting on the same shirt for the eighth day in a row.
Dry and repeat.
"Is there anything specific you'd like to do today?"
You pick up another plate. How odd. A few months ago this question would've made you ecstatic. Not that there was a real chance to sway Chrollo's plans, but it was a gesture, the pretence that your input mattered, and you took everything from it, until it started tasting stale. A shy kind of feeling, misplaced and fragile, would bloom in your chest, and prompt you say something soft, silly and naive: 'maybe we can have a picnic?', 'I'd like a carrot cake', 'yes, I want to watch that period drama for the hundredth time.'
And he would agree sometimes. Or suggest his alternative instead, which turned out more often than not to be less favorable, but you accepted it because what else was there? In-between the walls decorated with expensive paintings, books you already read three times, between Chrollo who listened intently to every word and a faint buzz of some high-end place, you chose to take whatever you could.
It doesn't bother you anymore, going or not going. Doing nothing or doing something. Being with him in a room or being alone, even though the last one is more compelling. The initial excitement that came with having small choices has passed. You think sometimes that if you took a knitting needle and sunk it deep into your chest, the surface around it would start crumbling and bare a hollow cavity with just ribs and dusty spaces.
Chrollo's suggestions are very thought out. Aimed to convince you that this arrangement isn't that bad after all, but also aimed to bring him something from it, be it sitting uncomfortably close to you on a sofa or holding your hand the entire walk. His presence is stifling in more ways than one, and you've been choking, choking, choking on it for so long, that finally all those cracks running across your insides started to feel liberating.
"No," you say. "Not really. Anything you want is fine."
Chrollo's been asking this more often lately. What you want to eat and what you want to do. Even whether you want to go out sometimes (with him, of course, never alone). Perhaps he's trying to figure any new preference you might have. Or a part of him can sense this deterioration that's slow to set in, but once it does - it stays.
"Dear," there's a tone in his voice. It's not worry per se. Chrollo doesn't worry for you, he worries for that little world of his, made of forced interactions, silk bed sheets and fake domesticity, which you're a part of, an intricate cog he can keep closely tucked to his side. Sheltered, protected, cared for - these words don't fit. So you use other instead, like imprisoned, kept, thing. He likes to have them, from trinkets he steals to human beings - you. Maybe it comes from years of owning nothing at all, having nothing at all, and now the allure of having much and more is like second skin.
You've heard stories about children abandoned to their own devices. Those who were left to roam the streets, scavenge through trash and fight other kids for a half-eaten sandwich or a can of beans. You wonder if he was like that, with messy hair, bony limbs and a desperate need to own something that no one could take.
Bit by bit you slip.
That tone means he's sensing it already, that bit by bit you're trying to leave him behind.
Chrollo always catches up with things easily. From the way he grips your arms, you wonder if that's what he did just now, caught up.
"Yes?"
The dishes are all done, clean and sparkling. The sink shines too, almost mocking you with its perfectness - there's nothing to do anymore. Your mind space of fake wooden floors and wide windows is waiting to be occupied, but it would feel wrong to retreat there so soon. Chrollo will ask questions, and if you're not able to keep up, he'll notice too. He slides both palms down your skin, squeezing a tad harder at the elbows; and so you stare into the sink.
His hands aren't soft at all. They're a little dry from soap, callused around fingertips. How effortless it would be for him to break your bones, one by one, starting from the wrist, but that won't happen; no, all that comes from him is words whispered in your ear, caresses and cruelty wrapped in kindness - it sounds poetic when phrased this way.
Your reflection stares back from the stainless metal. She doesn't look bad. Chrollo takes good care of her, makes sure she eats balanced meals and drinks enough water. She looks alright, with shiny hair and healthy nails.
The eyes is what doesn't match this picture of okay-ness. Not empty. Not vacant. Just frozen in time and very, very still.
Chrollo presses closer until his chest is touching her shoulder blades. You wonder if he considers it a victory, this silent compliance. It's not acceptance really, because that should be accompanied by a sense of peace or fulfillment and none of the two are currently present. It's not even resignation - that requires energy to acknowledge defeat.
If neither of those, what is it then?
"You've been awfully quiet today."
A drop of water falls from the tap and slides down the drain.
"The whole week in fact," his thumb strokes her stomach through the fabric. Slow circles, up and down. Chrollo enjoys physical closeness so much that it should be surprising for someone like him - reserved, calm and collected - to thrive on such things, but you suppose when it comes to her there's an exception.
"Not that I mind it, but if something's bothering you, you know that I'm always ready to listen."
There is something bothering you actually. Many things. You want your cat back. You want him gone, away, to see your mother again and bake with her. Eat fresh pastries while listening to old songs on the radio and talk about silly things or whatever she liked to ponder over before you were swept off your feet like in those old fairy tales. You want your phone and accounts unlocked so you could message friends. You miss your grandmother with her apron, the way she laughed at corny jokes and told stories about her youth. You want many things that Chrollo would never agree on - you're well aware of that, that's why you keep them safely tucked away and rotting.
You also want him to stop pressing against your back, and this is far easier to achieve. Slowly you untuck yourself from between his body and the counter, then turn around. He watches your face calmly like always, with this unblinking gaze full of strange fixation; there are small lines in the corners of his eyes, barely noticeable ones. You count them - six in total, three for each eye.
Then you blink.
"I don't think there is anything."
"Really," Chrollo hums, playing with the hem of your shirt, and you wonder if he knows something you're not aware of him knowing. "You've spoken less than ten sentences in two days, yet there's nothing bothering you. I must say I don't believe that."
So this is how it's going to start. This is how the conversation begins, and it'll flow from here until Chrollo finds what he's searching for.
"I've been paying close attention."
You don't doubt it.
"And what did you notice?"
"Nothing pleasant," his finger finds a loose thread and wraps it around. The pull is light, as if testing whether it'll prompt you to move closer into his space. "Quite concerning things actually."
You don't budge an inch.
"You do this sometimes," he continues. "When I ask a question and it takes you longer to respond. When we watch a movie, and I'm sure you stopped following at least twenty minutes ago. Or when you go over the same page until it's clear that I'm looking."
Chrollo's collarbone is a crisp line with a faint old scar; your attention skims over it to the sharp edges of his jaw. No smile today.
"And I wondered where you have been going."
He tugs a bit harder and the thread snaps.
It should've stunned you how fast everything crumbled - the imaginary wooden floors, Miss Whiskerton on your lap and the lizard, the wide windows - but no, it's surprisingly anti-climactic. Nothing breaks dramatically, just splits the middle, leaving you with cold kitchen tiles underneath your bare feet. You thought about this scenario - Chrollo cornering you, many times, and the words you would choose when he did, yet they fail to manifest and nothing fills the silence except a mute sensation of acknowledgement which settles over your head and shoulders. Your knees don't buckle. Your breath doesn't hitch, there is no shivering, and perhaps that's the most terrifying reaction of all.
So what, you think. And it's such a simple thought, plain and ordinary, so what.
Chrollo has his ways, but you have yours; they are slow and small, and squeeze you very tight. You can't comprehend this new expression on his face, haven't seen it before.
"My dear," he says in a quiet voice, so unlike his usual smooth, charming tone. "Broken thoughts and forlorn dreams can't fix what you want them to."
He taps your forehead, as if to engrave those words into the soft tissue of your brain. They slip away though, like running water.
"Wherever you choose to wander, there's not a single spot where I'm not right behind. Delusions don't suit you and it's simply sad to watch."
The kiss comes without warning; Chrollo doesn't bother to say anything else, just cups your face. It's warm and deep, a full-mouthed kiss that tastes faintly of tea you two drank during breakfast.
It's rot, you realize with a ten minute delay; and this slack mouth he's caressing isn't yours. There's a plant behind his shoulder, some small cactus with white needles sitting on a windowsill. The sunlight creates patterns on the glass, soft yellow circles and lines. They shift every passing second.
He's going to do this now, isn't he. Kiss you when you slip too deep as a way to break the pattern and remind that this is where you're supposed to be - with him. In the kitchen wearing a thin shirt above the knee, with cracks that spread across your insides, seeking for every small space they can fill. You'll grow older by his side, he'll bring you material pleasures to compensate for the lack of mental ones - books, clothes, jewelry, a pet if you decide to ask (you won't). Chrollo is going to kiss you often until age creeps onto your faces, and you'll watch each other turn old together.
The plant on the windowsill looks so dry.
"Dear."
He pulls back a few inches. You meet his eyes.
"Mm?"
You will let the rot dig under your nails and wait for it to eat away until his hands eventually become empty; rot is something to grab onto. It's slow to set, but spreads fast once does and never runs out of supply.
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rivkadreamer · 7 months
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Push and Pull.
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a/n: I actually have no idea what is this, I'm sorry. This was supposed to be a short drabble since I've been wanting to post something to Tumblr for quite some time and then...I got carried away, ahaha. Also I'm posting this through my phone, so if the formating is weird...ops.
Warnings: None, this is not proof read.
Genre: Hurt/comfort (?), light angst, fluffy at the end.
Summary: Scaramouche isn't the best with words, but for you, he's willing to tone down a little.
Alternatively: where his darling is fed up with his bad attitude and give him a scare to make him man up lmao.
Words count: 1.18k
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Imagine Scaramouche with a significant other who does exactly just what he asks for.
He tells you to leave? Sure, right off the door.
He tells you to not talk to him anymore? Okay, you stay silent like a mute person until he cracks and asks you a question.
He tells your presence is annoying? Watch him crawl back after weeks you went aloof, ignoring his presence in your life. Begrudgingly, he will start to tell you that he had some matters to attend in the specific area he found you, acting like it was a big coincidence you two end up meeting.
It's not as if you don't know that most of the stuff he tells you, he doesn't mean it, not really. You do know it, but that's the thing.
You are a human being, someone who has it's own thoughts, opinions and feelings. And since the beginning of this relationship, Scaramouche made a point quite a few times to ignore it, not trying to apologize or understand that even if you know he doesn't mean it, his actions still might hurt.
How did you two even got in a relationship, in the first place? You, yourself don't know. Sometimes it feels like he sees you more as a subordinate than a lover.
That's when you started taking the approach to stop reading between the fine lines of his words, trying to save some face and dignity he stole from you by crossing and neglecting the boundaries of your good will again and again, discarding your words when you tried to talk to him about it.
Honestly, he's similar to kid throwing a tantrum sometimes. Except he just narrow his eyes at you or gives you a hard glare when you fail to meet his needs. Scoffing when you not bother to try to understand the hidden meaning behind his harsh words, everytime he throws them rudely at your face.
The day he finally got your message through that stubborn head of his, was the day he blew up at your face and took his rage out on you after a particular stress inducing week.
Screaming at you how useless you are, how he didn't need you by his side and how you were a nuisance for foolish thinking he needed some kind of comfort. He told you such humans silly rituals and interactions where bellow him, to just stop nagging him and finding something better to do if this was what you interrupted his work for.
You tried to reason with him, saying that being here for him was just what you were for, what lovers do, they support each other. You just wanted to help him.
Then, he told you that you could help him by getting out of his life, since all you did was get in his way, distracting him from his goals by forcing your unwanted affection down his throat. His words cut deep and managed to finally shut you up, much for his relief.
You noticed that and frowned. You knew he didn't mean it, you knew that. But there's a limit to everything and you have reached yours. Getting the memo that he wants to be alone, you quietly left his office and made your way to his Fatui headquarters, determined to once more do just what he asked of you.
Scaramouche's blood run cold when he saw the empty room, devoid of any of your belongings or clothes. Many scenarios took a turn to settle upon his head, making his thoughts scatter all over the place as the initial shock wear down. The likely scenarios of you being kidnapped or leaving and abandoning him as many others did in the past, always betraying on the bitter end of everything, left him reeling and fuming on the very same spot he lost you.
He frantically searched for you all over the place, sending his Fatui underlings to look through every leaf and hole around the area, not leaving a single rock unturned.
When he finally found you, he was seething with fury, eyes practically bulging out of his face as he angrily demanded to know with a dark voice just what were you thinking and how dare you abandon him just like her did.
Scaramouche righteous anger quickly died down, however, when you threw at his face the same words he spoke earlier on his spur of the moment outburst, reciting letter for letter the painful words he spat like venom at you, wounding your heart in the process. That's when he noticed the hurt flashing through your eyes, a hurt dangerously alike to his.
His face fell.
He was quiet for a moment. Digesting your words wasn't easy. Scaramouche was never good with feelings and he always runs away from whatever situations that require him to face with the complex bundle of emotions that swirls just inside him. They're the moments he's forced to face the fact that he feels just as much as any human he so readily declares bellow him, feels.
And he hates himself for it. It reminds him too much of the time he was but a wandering vagrant of Tatarasuna, eyes sparkling full of wonder and curiosity. In all his glorified naivety, hopeful and yearning for the love of a family he could never attain.
But he hates your absence even more. It exudes such a gruesome, hollow emotion, it brings a hateful sting behind his eyes. Bringing himself to sit down by your side, and for the first time in all of the duration of your relationship, admitting that he was the one in the wrong. He apologizes and begs for you not to go, to not leave him alone.
He truly doesn't know if he can outgrow the pain of being without you, and surprises himself with how earnest he is being, realizing in the process he's much more attached to you than he initially thought.
His own metaphorical heart quivers with the notion, drumming forcefully and shaking the electric cords of his handmade body to it's core. It scares him, the vulnerability of it all, right now feels the same as being completely naked before your eyes. But the fact that you were about to slip away from his reach was terrifying, so he presses on...
After this incident, his behavior do not do an whole 180° turn, but he mellows out quite a bit.
He listens now. He stops with the unnecessary rude comments and have actual talks between the two of you, paying attention to your body reactions to assure himself he hasn't spout anything harmful.
The most noticable change is how he looks more for you and, how he doesn't push you away anymore, when you come to see him. He doesn't outrightly say he enjoys your presence, but he doesn't put a tough facade just to drive you away and prove his point about being "superior", either. He's still serious, but gentler. A soft expression on his face that is reserved for you and these quiet moments with you, and you only.
Talking and communication are still a sore spot for him, being truthful and honest about his emotions not coming as naturally to him as it comes to you.
But he's trying, and for the time being, that's enough for you.
"Where are you going? No, you can stay. You aren't distracting me, how arrogant of you to think so. Contrary to the bumbling fools I hesitate to call co-workers, your presence is much more calming. I feel reassured when you are by my side, so stay."
There's a quiet murmur at the end.
"Please, darling." ~♡
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End note: My first fic ever posted on Tumblr 🎉 (PS: I have no idea how Tumblr works LMAO)
[@rivkadreamer on Tumblr, please do not steal my works.]
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pocketramblr · 4 months
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For the AU ask game, what about a roleswap between Izuku and All might?
Fun fact: a role swap does not necessarily mean an age swap. It really depends on what roles are being swapped.
1- The Symbol of Peace, Dekiru, has been the Number One Hero for a few decades. Happy, bright, and always moving, his smile is the only part of him not covered by his lucky green rabbit costume. Toshinori was a few years out of college when he was rescued in Dekiru's debut, and sometimes when he's sad or needs motivation, he goes back and watches videos of it. Which is why what he's seeing is impossible:
2- Dekiru's mask torn off, revealing a child's face, still round and freckled even with the pale skin and dark eye bags. Toshinori would think he was just a kid cosplaying the hero, except that kid definitely just saved his life from the villain now knocked against the wall, and even as the kid is passed out on the ground too, a thin layer of smoke is flowing from the neck of his costume, trying to obscure his face, too late. When Toshinori gets closer, black tendrils flip out from his arms and stand threatening over him. Toshinori holds up his hands, "I just need to check your pulse and airway" and he's allowed closer to do that. The kid wakes a few minutes later, and in a crack of green lightning, they're dashed away to the roof of a nearby building, the kid panting. Toshinori asks what's wrong, how can he help?
3- Dekiru sighs, and then tells Toshinori everything. He was created in a lab by a villain trying to get a very specific quirk. He couldn't wait however long it took babies to manifest, and he didn't want to deal with adults, so Dekiru has always been a child. But even then, the villain would not get the quirk he wanted. Dekiru escaped with some help- don't ask- made pro hero, made number one hero, and went and killed that villain a few years ago. However, doing so weakened him- he used to only need one hour of sleep a day to reset and get 23 of quirk usage and crime fighting. Now he only gets two hours of energy from each hour spent asleep, though he really does try to push it. Hence, just passing out now. He's swaying on his feet now, actually. Toshinori offers to carry him to his agency- he could throw his bright yellow suit jacket over the kid and carry him on his back, without the mask no one would realize who he was, just assume he's taking his kid home. Dekiru says it's fine, actually, and flies them both off the roof- only to fall the last few feet. Bright red, he agrees, though he tries to use float to be as light as possible as Toshinori's back. Not that it's needed, the man isn't as fit as he was when he was younger, but he's still plenty tall and strong.
4- except, ah ha, you know how they kinda left the villain from earlier there? Whopsie attack number two a few minutes later, and Toshi just puts Dekiru down behind him and grabs a pipe to fight back with. With the villain defeated, Dekiru looks up at Toshinori, and asks if he wants his quirk. He'd make a great hero, and probably would be able to do more with it than Dekiru can, since he'll only need to rest more and more over time. Toshinori accepts, walks Dekiru back to his agency, and gets a number to talk about it later.
5- later, Toshinori asks what will happen to Dekiru when he gives up his quirk. The kid is evasive, and Toshinori is pretty sure he'll lose his repowering speed even more until it goes away. He asks if Dekiru has ever done anything besides sleep and fight. Dekiru hasn't, and Toshinori ties his acceptance of the quirk to the fact that Dekiru has to gain something too. A normal life, friends, school, something. Toshinori suggests UA- they changed their rule to allow quirkless students, so Dekiru could get his license that way and prepare using support gear, have a second run at a real career and life instead of giving it up all to Toshinori. Dekiru admits that Nedzu was one of his fellow lab rats kept by the villain and would probably be all too excited to approve of this, but don't expect not to end up owing Nedzu a favor after this. So, Toshinori begins training physically again, this time to receive a quirk, and Dekiru begins studying, since he never needed school before and has several years to catch up on if he's going to be ready for high school in a months. Toshinori gains a provisional licence in the winter and can get a full one after a year at an agency, which Nedzu insists be UA. After sending Dekiru off to the entrance exam with a good luck and double checking all his support gear, Toshinori gets invited to watch, and almost has a heart attack when Nedzu stamps "Accepted" on the paperwork as Dekiru dismantles a giant robot, sliding the stack over so that he can see that on the top of the boy's form, his name is listed as "Midorya Izuku" and for emergency contact, "Yagi Toshinori (Uncle, legal guardian)"
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blood-orange-juice · 6 months
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About Childe and his weird gender again, expanding on this post.
I think it has a lot to do with how gender is constructed. Male gender has very clear-cut prescriptions, mostly it's everything that is considered "good" or "human" in current culture. The expectations it places on a person may not be realistic or achievable but they are very clear. Great importance is also placed on separating itself from Everything Female. Things That Are Too Much. Things that break the current culture meaning-making procedures.
Women, while having quite a few prescriptions of their own, also deal with whatever fell through the cracks. Someone needs to ensure the world still functions and reality is never completely covered by whatever official model of the world we currently have.
So women deal with the things men have the luxury not to notice. Mostly bodily and psychological aspects and societal injustice that are not supposed to exist in the ideal picture of society men have imagined. (to be fair, it happens to anyone oppressed and othered. the task of not letting the oppressors meet with reality is delegated to them. I'm just talking about women specifically in this post. but there's a reason oppressed minorities always have ties to supernatural in folklore)
In a way, feminine women are very scary. Walking semiotic horrors.
And I explain all this to say that Childe can be perceived as feminine in two ways.
First, with his disregard for all and any societal norms he just doesn't follow the normal gender prescriptions. He plays a superhero/knight role because it's shiny and it reminds him of the stories he loved as a kid. He doesn't suppress his love for his family because it brings him joy. He looks pretty because looks are a weapon too. He does all these things that would be either stereotypically masculine or painfully unmasculine for anyone else who cares about what society thinks, but he doesn't really see any difference between them. He truly, genuinely doesn't care what others think.
Second, he's also painfully aware of the dark and insane parts of the universe everyone else has the luxury to ignore. He also knows no one cares so he dances around the things a normal guy would never have to deal with (it's such a stereotypical female experience. sometimes I wonder if that's why women rarely like Lovecraft. it's not scary or exciting to them, it's just Tuesday).
But that's just our perception, a trick of light. These are not necessarily gendered.
He also gives an impression of someone extremely vulnerable, yes, but I don't think he handles his vulnerability in a feminine way. He just doesn't hide it and we are used to labeling everything vulnerable as feminine.
He also doesn't really do anything feminine-labeled in a characteristic female way. He isn't really in contact with his emotions (despite having a lot of them), him caring about people takes the form of "protector and provider". his cooking... have you seen his cooking? He doesn't look for support and doesn't try to build things that last. He doesn't accept his vulnerability. If anything, he's trying to pretend he has no vulnerabilities and maybe no psyche at all. He's self-sacrificing in a very male way too. Because he was there and because he could and because it's a cool thing to do.
So he's just that. Himself. Someone outside of gender.
(or rather his gender is knightcore)
If we perceive him as feminine it says more about how our culture perceives gender than about who Childe is.
Also, quoting my previous post, it's a part of him being full of contradictions. For every thing that he does he also does the exact opposite, and this holds for gender too.
Yes he lives the male power fantasy. He also does it in an incredibly feminine way. I think this was Hoyo's original intention and then it blossomed into this human disaster we see.
And to end up on a joke, surely you all have seen that leaked art that is theorised to be Skirk but could have also been an early design of Childe before Hoyo decided to make him a guy.
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mickedy · 4 days
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do you have strong feelings about minnie? the way disney writes her bothers me severely, i'm trying to find out how to write her better and i'd like help!
she's always written as nothing more than a mickey genderswap, they have the exact same character strengths and flaws, i want to write her like how ortensia is written to oswald or daisy is written to donald (in. ducktales 2017 at least when they dont feel like being . so toxic.), theyre character foils and they work better together
for example daisy is more practical and sassy and headstrong?? while donald isn't very practical he is very emotional and in the moment and isnt as ambitious as her he's just a guy
but minnie doesnt compliment mickey in any way their relationship is just Same Braincell Teehee
and its like every time disney TRIES to have friction between the two its usually making minnie less interesting than mickey in the sense he's going off the walls insane and she has to fold her arms and make him stop, w donald and daisy donald has to ground daisy sometimes but minnie can usually do no wrong ever??
i want to write minnie as mickey's foil in a similar way because she's always a copy and paste mickey and she deserves so so so much more, but im also worried that making a foil for mickey would stray too far from minnie's personality range?? which is why i keep referencing donald and daisy specifically because they have similar personalities but still manage to be foils, and i ALSO dont want to make her copy and paste ortensia, WHILE ALSO NOT MAKING HER JUST LESS INTERESTING MICKEY AS THEY DO SOMETIMES by just writing her as feminine mickey without the character flaws he has, so its a really weird balancing act here
You hit the nail on the head with a lot of points here. I've always found Minnie to be the MOST sidelined out of the 5 in terms of characterization. She's almost always written as "girl mickey", very interchangeable with him, not really developed with her own personality in mind independent of her relationship with Mickey.
I guess on a lot of levels I consider Minnie and Mickey to be like... really sturdy nuts. They have these extremely tough shells surrounding them, they are two of the most private people you will ever meet. Outwardly friendly, outwardly pretty boring and unemotional, a pretty vanilla flavored couple at any way you look at them.
But, we don't really get to see what goes on under that shell. What they're like in private. My favorite stories with Mickey are the ones where they crack open the shell, even just a smidge-- and we get to look on the inside. What we see is almost always the same. Above all else, Mickey cares about his friends. Mickey cares about his friends so much that he would take a bullet for each of them. He would give up everything. Friendship means more than anything else to Mickey Mouse.
On the flipside, we don't really get that same introspection with Minnie. I can't think of a time where they let her be emotional, like that. She's sweet and patient and polite and filled to the brim with goodness and kindness, but that's just what her shell looks like. She's very, very reserved. Like Mickey, maybe even moreso.
A lot of this is definitely because the writers don't really care about Minnie on that level, because she's Woman and she's Girlboss and whatnot. When they show her being emotional, it's pretty much always played up for laughs because Women Are Emotional amiright wink wink nudge nudge 😁🔫 <- (he does not know he is playing into misogynistic tropes)
But I like to think she just has these incredibly sturdy walls around her character. You will most likely never get to see what her private self is like in the entire time that you know her. I seriously doubt Minnie's actual friends know that much about her.
Mickey cares about his friends, but what does Minnie care about...? Where Mickey is an optimist, I consider Minnie to be a pessimist. That is a very strange claim to make, I know. But I think the reason we never see her walls break down is because... there'd just be more walls. She's such an incredibly reserved individual, she'd rather stick her hand in a paper shredder than admit that she's got feelings.
She's pretty no-nonsense in that regard, too. Mickey is a compassionate guy, but Minnie is more quick to lash out and start kicking and yelling when someone pisses her off. Tying back to the whole "friendship is Mickey's emotional core" thing... friendship is definitely not Minnie's.
I'm not saying she's not friendly. She's incredibly friendly! She's such a sweet and affectionate individual. But it's all very much an outward thing. I think, if you're looking for a "foil", that's definitely where they clash in that regard. Mickey is a plain, unassuming guy who-- at his core-- is sweet and silly and compassionate, and motivated by his love for his friends. Minnie is outwardly sweet and silly and compassionate, but doesn't have that same motivating factor, the deeper you look.
In the end, this is all really my interpretation of Minnie's character. Because she is definitely a victim of misogynistic writing, which sucks 🤷‍♀️ But I do think there is a lot of potential to make her and Mickey clash a lot more often than they're shown to... because, they don't really show themselves to anybody! That sort of intimate exploration of their character is something that really only comes out with each other. Which leaves a lot of room to mold their inner personalities into something much more interesting...
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traff1csstuff · 1 month
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HOLY SHIT TPOT 10
It was sosososooo good!! Spoiler warning ahead Black Hole using his nightmare to try and explain to Fanny that he can't kill without severe repercussions. He's scared he'll end everything, even if its killing someone to save them [like with Tree] and he has a valid reason for that. I mean, He's a BLACK HOLE. He's kinda made to kill everything eventually and has the power too, I'd be overly cautious as well. I'm glad they could find a middle ground though, and allowing Fanny to cut Tree down to save him is a big step for him. He's learning to accept it's necessary to kill sometimes in order to help the people he cares about. [Especially tree. Tree x Black Hole yesyesyes]. Pillow actually feeling bad about losing the challenge made me remember she may enjoy killing but she isn't mindless and I feel like a lot of the community overlooks that. She was willing to try other things to help Book out and win the challenge, even if they lost she admitted it was worth a shot. And, thanks to Pillow forcing her, Price tag and Book became good friends. She did two good deeds [sort of] to help her team out and they both worked in their own way, maybe they're still up for elimination but good things came from it. Clock and Winner. I'm really glad they made up as well. Clock just wanted Winner to not be forgotten, just like he was in BFB. He wanted to help Winner but Winner didn't want that help. I do admit, Clock crossed his boundaries, but he apologized and tried to make it right. Winner being hurt by Loser fueled my hatred for Loser [I already hated him]. I'm glad Winner forgave Clock and even wished Loser luck on his journey to fame. More about Clock. Four and X getting pissed when he was eliminated cracked me up. I'm so happy they actually made a contestant friend, similar to Two and Gaty but in a different way [Since they're different people]. Being sad when he left and angry at Two made me happy because they really did care about him, like taking him on the boat trip and such. It just made me really happy and I could talk about them for hours and hours. Final thing, not about anybody specific but in Book's dream I like how the style changed to BFB's old style, it really stayed with the vibe of Book being "back in BFB". Also Two looked funny with the same style as old Four and X.
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marcymeow · 5 months
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Ripper stomps into the confessional, an hour or so after the first challenge was over. He does his business in the outhouse as usual, but while rubbing his head, and gritting his teeth. "Ugh. What the hell happened? What am I?" He mutters to the confessional, forlorn and waving at himself.
He'd instantly correct anybody assuming he was upset from his team losing. He's very confident he's still in, especially from the amount of weak-willed nerds on his team. He is a little upset he lost in specific, but considering the challenge was "dodge balloons from the best pitcher in Woman's Baseball," he has to be humble sometimes and say not even he can fight against Axe Hatchet. No, his distress is from something much more embarrassing. "So, here's the problem." He tries to speak to the audience directly, knowing that Chris has encouraged them all to do so at a meeting off camera. "I came here to win. I came here to crush the competition in a way that I wasn't able to last season! I was too distracted with things like records, which I've already beaten anyway! And nothing else should stop me!" "So why is-! Why-! Axel is-!" He growls, balling his fists. "Why is it so hard to talk about this?! It's muddied up in my head like fog!" "So." He tried to start over, shaking his head. "I hate Axel, yes? I hate her a lot." It was something about Axel, he knows that. The fact that he kept getting pushed around and beaten by Axel. That Axel, who he got out last season for causing his heart to beat in emotion like a crack of thunder, or like the growling of his stomach. Axel made him react, so Ripper reacted back, throwing insults at her like he did to somebody like Millie. No matter how ill-fitting of the label 'Nerd' Axel was, he'd treat her just like he'd treat them. "She's very much like me. We match brains and brawn, we're harsh, we're loners. Neither of us care about anybody but ourselves! We're destined to be rivals, to be opponents! We're enemies!" He, obliviously, smiled. Balling his fist down onto his palm, he continued. "She even tripped me up in today's challenge! I hate her."
"So..." He dropped down. "So why... Um... Ughhhhh! There's-! Something in here that I'm trying to get out but it's muddied up with everything! Why are emotions hard!" He once again grit his teeth, and continued. He's stubborn, he'll do whatever he wants no matter what! If his mind isn't letting him do what he wants, he'll just fight back against his own mind! Come on, Ripper! Take it out! That glistening little sparkle that's covered up! You are upset! And by whatever you can do, Ripper, you will say what is making you upset-! "I liked it when she pushed me down!" It flows out like a waterfall, the dam finally broken and destroying everything in its wake. "And when she tripped me during the challenge! She's so strong and confident and knows what she's doing, that she's decided that I'm a threat against her! Me, somebody whose just as strong as her, she sees me as a threat, like I deserve to be! Being hit, being attacked and pushed down by her, it's me being kicked down and shown who I am! Somebody who's strong enough to matter, that she's strong enough to actually hurt me! And..." ...He crumpled, after everything he bottled up hits him. He looks at the camera. "...I'm not supposed to care about other people. I'm Ripper, the strongest kid in the school, the one whose beaten the record for the longest continuous fart! I'm great! I'm a king! I'm not supposed to be a... lovestruck dweeb." "But I am, now. I see Axel, and I want her to hit me, to show me how much of a badass she is. I wanna be hurt by her, and then make out with her. I'm swooning over a zombie survivalist for gods sake! I'm not nearly as much of a man as I thought I was..." He sighs, and gets up. He likes Axel. He has a crush on her, on the girl who, as far as he can tell, actually genuinely dislikes him. Oh, he'd love to have a girl swoon over him and for him to date her. But this isn't that. This is him getting blushy over a girl because she beats him up sometimes. He's starting to actually care. He exits the confessional, with mixed feelings on if he actually wanted to unearth that buried realization. Well... It's too late now. He knows that he's into her now. The only question is... What now?
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chaosfairy18 · 1 month
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I felt the absolute need to ramble about the problems my boys have so yeah this is certainly a deep dive into how I think of these characters, in a way, so... buckle up. I will try not to go completely crazy here (also it is kinda Pirate AU specifically but also applies to most versions of these characters for me)
First Spot. He obviously feels the need to be strong, to protect his people, he spreads rumors, makes himself larger than life, there is no room for mistakes, he needs to be perfect to keep everyone safe, no matter the cost for himself. It is suffocating him, but if anyone sees the cracks Brooklyn (either the borough or the ship in my AU) could be attacked, they wouldn't fear him anymore, they would dare to go against him. Specifically in pirates where we meet him in "Toss a Coin to your Pirate" he is worn thin by this, he has had to be perfect, not mess up, not do anything wrong ever for years at that point and it worked, he's respected, he's feared. But also lonely. He has Hotshot and his crew, but he is always just a bit detached, thinks he isn't allowed to get closer, even if no one would mind. And then he meets Race and it just gets a bit better.
Speaking of which: Race feels the need to be perfect too. Or felt, rather. In this AU I thought of him being the son of a rich Sicilian merchant who came to what is in the AU kinda where America is but... mostly Islands (I have played a lot of Anno as a kid okay). His father's only goal is to bring the family upwards, go from having almost nothing to basically royalty, meaning there can be no screw ups, no mistakes, no tardiness, only perfection in everything. Always smiling at social gatherings, charming people, bringing your skills to perfection however you can. He found it suffocating and got out, naturally, but while he would say he's stopped being like this he hasn't in a way. He still feels like when he doesn't do enough, makes too many mistakes, he'll get left behind by the others, he knows he needs to do more jobs then them - and why shouldn't he, he's good at them, might as well do it - working himself to the ground. It gets better, he has about a decade on Jack's ship to realize he doesn't have to do things perfectly to have people like him, enjoy being around him. But any reminder of his family could bring that crashing down. Make him fall back to previous habits.
That's why they also in some ways fit together. They have smiliar issues but not and they know what to do, what to say, when not to say something.
Buuuut they aren't the only ones with this issue of everything needing to be perfect. Which is why I thought of doing this post in the first place.
Bumlets wants control over what is happening to him and the people he loves, he knows if he doesn't have it he'll worry all the time. He does his best to help everyone, to do anything for them, to plan ahead, to take control where he couldn't before because his life belonged to someone else. But this also means the moment something goes wrong, there is an argument he takes it as a mistake he did. He knows he isn't doing enough, not enough for the people he loves, they're suffering because he didn't think of everything, because the choices he made weren't the right ones. Most days no one would know, but sometimes he just has days where he curls up, asking himself how he could do this, how he can't keep everything together, how he didn't do enough and give everyone a perfect life, murmuring apologies to everyone who is there.
Going away from being perfect but keeping close to Bumlets we get to Swifty. His problems are with his own image in a way, he knows he enjoys sewing and crafting and embroidery and before he hadn't really thought anything about it, he can also fight, but eventually he also thinks about what it means that he likes to wear skirts. They're easy to make and he can design them as he wants, but what does it mean? He doesn't feel like a girl or a woman, but maybe he should as he likes wearing these types of clothes too. And then he thinks about all of his hobbies taken together, are his boyfriends maybe only with him because he is more societally feminine in some ways? Not even his looks, but how he acts. If they don't even want him for who he actually is, if they're with him because it was convenient too. It ends in a loud argument and accusations, but at least after he learns it wasn't as he thought.
Last but not least Skittery who in every cannon has problems with schizophrenia-esque symptoms in the way he always feels watched, feels like nothing could ever go truly right in his life, people are whispering behind his back, only taking him in because of pity. That they would get tired of caring for him - especially in episodes (which aren't frequent but they happen) - and leave him behind. That no one could really love him at all, not like he is, that he isn't good enough for that. And later, that he is also different in more ways (I am generously taking Blood Drips lore for this one) meaning he almost can't get injured or is somehow just different and he doesn't know why. That he'll get taken away or go off the rails and not be able to be there for his brother, for the people he loves.
Honestly this is a depressing note to end this at but that's just mostly my rambles that I had to get out and they are all so sad. Similar but different problems and while Spot and Race were kind of Pirate specific Bumlets, Swifty and Skittery are too but also more broadly in a way. Hope someone read this to the end :) Imagine them all talking about their issues and resolving them <;3 Or arguing and causing lots of Angst
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dareactions · 1 year
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I'm a sucker for angst and tragedy, so I'd love to see your take on how Romances would react to an Inquisitor who's become corrupted by Red Lyrium- maybe sort of like Corypheus? God-like powers at the cost of sanity... but it's fiiiine cause they're on *our* side... right?
So, I'll be honest I think a lot of them would dip if this went down, like instantly. Specifically Iron Bull and Blackwall probs? I think they'd either try to make you reach your expiration date faster or run for the hills, but like, what if they didn't.
Also this was written while suffering some real shit health issues so apologies for any spelling mistakes ;; I haven't really been able to move around a lot rip
Cassandra: She isn't one for staying silent. Cassandra watches quietly for the shortest of moments before she voices her concern over the situation, it's hard to not do so to the Inquisitor directly but Red Lyrium makes people temperamental at best. Cassandra is the first to bring up being ready, in case something ever goes wrong. In case they finally step over the threshold Corypheus did. There's something so unsettling about watching someone you know slowly crumble underneath a pressure they have no control over, watching them slowly go from a perfectly normal person to the husk of who they were. Romanced: It's worse when it's someone you love. Her eye keeps searching them for any trace of the person she loves and sometimes, just sometimes, she can see it in the edges of how they look at her but it's not the same. There's nothing to really remove the evergrowing pit in her chest, the way it aches and cracks more and more every day as they go further down a path that Cassandra can't really do much to save them from. Being the person she is, there's that obvious need to protect- but you can only do so much to protect someone from their own downfall.
Blackwall: It's really hard for Blackwall to not just instantly run off. To not tuck his tail between his legs and dash out in the dead of night because he made a promise to follow the Herald, the Inquisitor, someone who stood strong and bravely in the face of disaster- not whatever has taken their place. He does his best to spend as little time around them as possible because in a way they feel like a bigger reminder of his own failings. The inquisitor gave up what is practically themselves for the greater good, and he is well aware he could never even consider following their lead. But that doesn't change the unease, the way he can't help but feels his fingers twitch for a blade whenever they get more obviously inhuman so to speak. Romance: His heart will never recover from this. After everything, all the ups and downs and this might just be what makes Blackwall properly break. He watches their gradual change with a twisted expression of grief and knows he can do nothing. There is no talking someone out of this, once it begins it doesn't really stop. Blackwall can make as many toy horses or wooden ornaments as he'd like, it doesn't ease the stress of knowing the person he loves is slowly dying and he has no power to stop it. The worst part is even if he did, Blackwall isn't entirely sure if he would. They made this choice, a choice that cost them everything but a choice made with so much love for the world around them he isn't sure if he could take that from them.
Dorian: In some ways, it reminds him of Blood Magic. The way the Lyrium corrupts and takes whatever it gets its hands on, and he is equally uncomfortable watching this. Dorian has seen people fall for less and the idea that the Inquisitor is now walking the thin line that most have failed to walk before without tipping in either direction makes him nervous, to say the least. It's heartbreaking, really, to watch someone you cherish and in the past looked to for guidance become this and Dorian will probably never stop questioning if he could've done something. Magic can do so many things but not the thing he wants it to do. Sometimes he sees a hint of the old Inquisitor, and that's almost worse than dealing with the current corrupted personality he sees daily. Romance: Dorian never dealt well with grief, it's not quite an emotion he likes to linger on. And here he is, feeling it heavy on his heart more so than ever, watching the love of his life slowly dwindle into nothing more than a memory. He isn't really sure how to cope, if there is a right way to go around it, or if he can even do anything to help. There is one thing he knows for certain though and that is that people are far too quick to give up hope. Dorian can see his love in the small actions that nobody else seems to notice, the remaining sliver of hope shining like a beacon in the dark. The Inquisitor is slowly becoming more and more corrupted, but Dorian loves them and he isn't ready to give up hope yet and he isn't sure if he ever will be.
Iron Bull: There are some things Bull doesn't fuck with, and demons are one of them. Even if this is different, a corruption, unlike anything he has seen it is eerily familiar. He doesn't want to be on guard around the Inquisitor, they're taking one for the team- they're pushing themselves so far they're willing to become something unrepairable. And maybe that is a part of the reason he feels bad whenever his fingers twitch to reach for his axe when he holds his breath occasionally when they pass. There is a level of trust but it is far more brittle and he isn't sure how to go around it. Bull has seen more stable people do horrible things and the fact that every day the Inquisitor threads closer to something similar to Corypheus horrifies him. Romance: I can't see him not making his stance on the matter very much known instantly, if this was an accidental thing there is just heartbreak- but if the Inquisitor did it as some self-sacrifice I imagine him to be very hesitant to even let them. It's their choice, it is their sacrifice to make but Bull loves them so wholeheartedly and he wonders if there really isn't any other way. He values every little second more than ever though, the small moments have all the more importance because he knows it might be the last moment where they are themself. It is partly overshadowed by the fact that he knows that if it comes down to it, there might be a day when they're gone and there is just an empty husk in their place and he isn't sure if he will handle it.
Sera: The way Sera pulls away is instant. She doesn't fuck around with demons, and even if the Inquisitor isn't one entirely- they're all the same in her book. They're doing it for the greater good- blah blah, it doesn't matter. Because at the end of the day, she has absolutely no reassurance this won't turn around and backfire. It just shows that the inquisition is like every other political faction and organization in the world, it doesn't matter who is being torn down or hurt if it's for the cause. As long as it's for the good of the people a little damage doesn't hurt, which is fine and dandy when you're fighting rogue templars or mages- but not when you watch your friend and leader slowly turn into a less horrific version of the man you're trying to end. Romance: She has never really been one to hold back and that doesn't change even when she is in a relationship, I think there'd be an instant discussion because if Sera doesn't like something- she won't let it happen. Her words become snappier and the occasional comment becomes a daily occurrence, her distaste for the situation is obvious and she has no intention of hiding it - and if she is ignored she'll take her leave even if it breaks her heart a million times over. She isn't going to watch the person she loves break themselves down from the sidelines, she isn't the person to do that.
Solas: Oh, what has he done? Solas always edged on the feeling of remorse, pity, and regret for the fact that these are the steps he has to take to reach his goal. This wasn't in the plan. There is something so grotesque watching someone pull themselves apart at the seams because of you, because of something you put in place and orchestrated. He watches the Inquisitor lose themselves with morbid curiosity and horrified dread because it's something that in many ways is on him. This is his goal and agenda affecting the world and he gets to see it in the worst possible way. Solas keeps telling himself it is worth it, even if he feels an unsettling sense of dread settle in his stomach more and more every day. Romance: Every action, whisper, and loving word is given with a steady hand that is entirely held up by a devouring sense of guilt. Whenever he looks at them, their form and being slowly corrupting more and more with each passing day and sanity fickle- he knows it is his doing. Yet Solas selfishly loves them, he takes and gives and then takes some more because gods the way they smile at him and say his name - it's enough to make any sensible man lose their wits. But he lays away, staring at his hands as he wonders just what he is doing- what he has done. He ruined the person he loved, but it's for a cause, it's a must. A necessary sacrifice, or so he will continue to tell himself as they crumble from the ripples of his actions.
Cullen: Every time they are in the same room he feels that familiar suffocating panic that he did in the tower. There's only so much he can ignore, so much to look away from and it tears him more every day. But Cullen is no stranger to dealing with horrible conditions and accepting questionable morals to get the job down. He has no issues swallowing his doubts and concerns if it means the world becomes better, and they save people. If that means being unable to rest easy at night or holding his hands closer to his sword than he is comfortable doing, so be it. If Romanced: There isn't much that can make Cullen falter in his affections, not even this. If anything, to him this is a showing of his own failings. Damned, be this templar and his ability to turn everything into something he has done wrong or can fix. He isn't as blind as most probably think he is, Cullen sees the alarming signs of instability and they scare him- of course they do. But Cullen is just better at hiding it than some of the others, he just knows how to keep his concerns within the innermost circle, and keep the crying behind closed doors. But it's tearing him down slowly and it's just a matter of time before his love just isn't enough.
Josephine: From a work basis, she despises it. Josephine has always been quite good at separating her feelings when it comes to work, she can look past her own feelings on the matter to realize just how hard this will be to sell to the world. To make them realize the price someone is paying for their safety. But then there are obviously the personal thoughts, the ones that creep in late at night as she stares into the burning candle on her desk. The Inquisitor is a friend, a close one at that and she has to watch them slowly die practically. She isn't sure what to do about it, what she can even say or do or think to make this situation not feel like watching a person get tortured. Josephine lives every day with the anxiety that one day there might not be recognized in their eyes when they look at her. Romance: Nobody knows when Josephine will break, but mostly everyone knows she will. It's obvious in the way she seemingly cradles the fragility of her relationship with the Inquisitor in her hands. They will one day be gone and she probably won't get to do the things she wanted. Go to places they discussed, have her family meet them properly- these are all things that won't take place because they're a walking corruption. Proof of the fact that the veil keeps taking from everyone- the Inquisitor especially. One day she'll crumble into pieces and not be able to entirely pick herself up, and it'll be the day that the Inquisitor is the closest thing the world has ever seen to a god- and that will be the day they will most likely be killed, and Josephine will be defenseless to do anything.
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cryptidfuckery · 1 year
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Your old social media was literally my first ever introduction to anyone identifying beyond the gender binary. In 2014, I was watching youtube videos in the small UK city I grew up in, and your videos were recommended. And I felt instant recognition when you talked about gender things, because I'm non-binary and I'd never heard of anyone identifying or expressing themselves that way when I was younger. You were the LGBT+ elder that I really appreciated advice from. (Even if you are only a few years older than me, you seemed much wiser). So I just wanted to say thank you for being your out and authentic self for so many years. Wishing you a good week. P.S. if you like cute animals, I highly recommend looking up photos of bog turtles, they definitely made my week better.
I'm really, really glad that I was able to help you!!
This definitely isn't the first time I've heard this. Notably, when I was at an anime convention years ago during that time, I had someone approach me and say essentially the same thing and also cry. Wonderful experience, also a fucking wild experience!!
It's one of the things I'm proudest of my younger self for. I was lucky enough to learn through my close friends at the time, but I definitely saw that there just. Wasn't enough information readily available for the people who might be interested. So I dug my heels in and allowed myself to be a resource, because it was important. Most of what I was doing was regurgitating what I was learning from my own elders and community, but it was important for people to have a face to the idea. Someone they could talk to and be validated by.
That was either around or over 10 years ago now. I've identified as genderqueer for over 10 years. I sometimes think about an the people who might have a similar time line just for the sake that I talked about it openly.
That time also helped me realize that I didn't want to go into activism full time. I love it, its important, but it made me realize that it would take too much out of me. Maybe I was able to handle it better because I was still being supported by family, and my only obligation (that I shirked a hell of a lot of) was highschool.
That doesn't mean I Completely stopped though. I'm one of those people you can make the joke "they'll trans your gender." I have a joke that the only people who don't end up more trans by the end of dating me are Very cis men. (I have a theory that the people who do end up "more trans" are attracted to the androgy for a reason, whether they realize or not).
I like to think it's because I know what questions to ask, not to push too hard, but more than anything, let them describe how they're feeling about their gender/sexuality with no judgements. Letting them explore it in a safe space. So my activism kind of happens there.
But more than that, I'm a hairdresser that caters toward queer/trans/gay people. That's where I feel I actually do my activism.
And I'll be real with you, I'm not out to all my clients. I work in a mixed bag neighborhood (old conservatives, young liberals, EVERYTHING inbetween) so half of that is keeping myself safe. The other half is not wanting to put extra work on myself trying to fight to explain my identify to someone who 1) doesn't actually care and 2) most likely won't actually hear a thing i say. I talk to the clients that bring it up, and come out to them if they ask. I'm not necessarily tight lipped about my queerness, but like all of us, at know how to illude without specifics. I let my clients decide their comfort level.
But my TRANS CLIENTS. They are SO important to me. I'm able to surround myself with the people I love, who I can crack a gender joke at and know I'll get a laugh. People I can really talk to about dysphoria, about hormones, about surgeries, about relationships, about sex, about family, about friends, about life in a way I don't get to with my other clients.
Even more important than that, I can make a huge step in their transition that much easier. I had a good amount of freshly cracked eggs find me after quarantine/the pandemic (it's not over). As we all know, it was a huge self reflection time. But I got to be there to be the first to validate their gender through their hair. That in itself can be an extremely nerve wracking process. My trans clients coming to me have allowed me to figure out the best way to naviagte the situation in a way where they feel comfortable and validated. It means the world to me. Seriously.
This is where I feel I actually do my activism. It's not explaining what gender is, it's not explaining pronouns. It's getting to assure someone they're on the right path. That what they're doing is good, and it's happy, and there's someone who's proud of them for going through the hard, hard process. I have people I've now been seeing for years who I've gotten to support through hormone changes, through identity changes, through relationship changes.
But one of the things I really try to stress is that being trans, while it absolutely has it's difficulty, it's supposed to be joyous. It's supposed to be the joy of being who you feel you really are. The joy of being loved for who you are. The joy of loving as you are. The joy of being loved by your community. The joy of loving life. Being trans is the joy of love, and the constant readmission that you love yourself more than anyone else can take away.
I cried a little bit writing that ngl.
Last thing I wanna say is that if I did happen to touch your life in a way that helped you become more fully realized, pass on the favor. The next time you have a friend or loved one you're getting the signals from, ask the questions. Be patient with them. Let them change their answers. Nudge but don't shove. Crack a joke. Meet them where they are.
Do it with love.
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feastfic · 1 month
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mephone....i am starved i am desperate i am on my hands and knees begging my title is that for a reason
👋👋👋 have I got hella news for you brother I rise from my chamber-den full of half-finished ideas and a half-finished fic to bless you once more. I return once again.
(This will just be a general list since there's a few more that get a little more specific !!!)
• This one's probably a given, since we rarely see him with any other Meeple, but MePhone is generally pretty distant from relatives. It's a mix of being too uncomfortable to be around them, and simultaneous guilt for not taking anyone with him when he escaped Cobs. (MePad knows bits and pieces about it, but has promised him not to tell anyone.)
• Since the contestants gathered his split memories he's been noticeably more at peace with himself in the long run, even if at first it had him really messed up. Suppressing everything for so long, to have it blow back in your face definitely wasn't a thing he was expecting from a "challenge".
• He has yet to really figure out why he doesn't like Toilet. There's a reason there beside the assumption that Toilet is under management from Adam, but if you were to ask him about it he couldn't provide a solid, sensible answer. He honestly just has a lot of animosity for the guy.
• In my head there's an Object Facebook and he's an avid user of it. He has like no followers but if you go into his post history you can see the change in character he goes through. Old text posts complaining about contestants behind their backs to his more recent ones being the photos taken during the challenge in III. (Side note: the selfie he took is the photo that means the most to him that he's ever shared.)
• He's a lot older than he looks. Which is definitely saying something given he's a phone, but in certain angles under light you can see hairline cracks on his screen and his backing has become worn over time from natural wear and tear. If he were human he'd be in his early 40's.
• One time he was asked if he had a favorite/least favorite contestant and the only reason he didn't list them all in order of most to least liked was because he didn't want to be sued for emotional damage (this was in S1, in S3 for example he wouldn't do it because he doesn't really have a Least Favorite of them. Yes some of them annoyed him but that's just how life is sometimes, y'know?)
• He has a Nighttime Mode but never uses it. This has lead to him losing TONS of sleep during hosting because his own blue light keeps him up all night. Coffee isn't going to save him now.
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sanyu-thewitch05 · 8 months
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Imagine Male Yandere Artists X Female Reader Creation. Obviously inspired from the Greek myth of Pygmalion…but think of how much worse and complicated it’d get if poor reader Darling was a project worked on by multiple men together…It’s almost as if this is now Greek Pygmalion myth X Helen of Troy myth. Let the war for love begin.
General premise…reader Darling comes to life through the power of the mens’ accidental prayers of love to the goddesses of love. She is everything the men wanted in a woman somehow (dare I say Mary Sue territory, and a sprinkle of Manic Pixie Dream Girl I suppose since she is still otherworldly just being born and all). Doesn’t help that Darling is also enchanting every man she meets across the city too. Her creators all get mad jealous, and fight over who has the true “rights to have her,” (cause we stan men who see women as their property *sarcasm). Climax…the creator men end up offing each other off in the art studio (battle royale style), and their blood mixes together into another art creation they had collaborated on together. And through the power of love and “friendship” (*cue jazz hands), the men are reborn into one, and can pursue Darling more easily. I’ll leave up to you if Darling is genuinely more pleased with this new outcome of the mens’ rebirth, or if she’s terrified to no end of what they’ve become. (I trust your writing skills as always). Either way, no escape for her. The power of love is a formidable foe…
A/N: Some of these asks might be late because I'm trying to brainstorm as for what to do character-wise. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.
Your body was crafted from clay and stone. Your hair and scalp are threaded from spider webs, horse hair, and human hair. Your body shines with the finest oil. You are the perfect woman. The name on your plague was...well, you didn't have a specific name, so per se. But your creators decided to name your statue Earth's Women. Your name was because of your magical abilities. In the morning sun, your hair is curly, and your skin is olive-brown. By the afternoon, your skin is dark brown, and your hair is so coily it sometimes is in an Afro. During the evening, your skin whitens, and your hair straightens out. By nightfall, your skin is an albino white, and your hair is bone straight.
Because of these abilities, you gained the love of millions around the world. Many prayed for you to be alive. For you to be their perfect woman. Then, one day, the sunlight shining on you made your body crack. Your creators were so upset that they closed the exhibit to fix you. When your creators touched your skin, your statue crumbled. Screams and dust fill the room. Suddenly, your human body rises from the rubble.
"Where am I?" You ask, dust covering your dark skin.
"My God, she's alive," An olive skin man with black curly hair says. "Stai bene?"
You try to move your naked body, but you fall. Your legs are too wobbly.
"Get her a towel, Leon! She's never used her legs before," Ciro commands, rushing to pick you up from the debris. "And bring some bandages and wound treatments too! She's bleeding!"
Several hours later, you are properly introduced to your creators. There are six creators, and they call themselves the Sexy Six. Each one created a body part for you. Leon DiCardio made your head, Ciro Nikolaou shaped your torso and bosom, Aoi Hiroshige crafted your left leg, Matias Dorado sculpted your right leg, Abe Okoro created your right arm, and Caspian Narain made your left arm. Together, six men from different continents made a woman representing every girl.
"So what are you going to do with me, now?" You ask, tightening your fluffy robe.
"We're going to have to hide you from the public. They can't know you've come to life. You're something a leader would start a war for," Ciro says, giving you a cup of water.
"That's a bit unfair, isn't it? If the goddess answered their prayers to have her come to life, shouldn't we introduce her to the public? If we don't, we'd be defying the goddess's will," Leon says, making Ciro think about his decision.
"True. I suppose we could take her out in public. But only if she wears a cloak to cover her face," Ciro says, making everyone happy.
When you walked through the city, you could understand every conversation. Turns out, you can understand every language known to mankind. It was overwhelming, but Matias helped you power through it by distracting you with clothing. Abe took you away from Matias soon after and showed you the foods of every culture. You tasted everything, and even brought back sweets. You hardly even noticed Caspian glaring at Abe before he snatched you away to learn how to dance.
You are simply beautiful to him, to everyone, really. Your skin getting darker and your hair becoming coils under the afternoon sun while you twirl in circles was a scene that magic could've created. In the sun, you are everyone's Cinderella.
"Let's go, Every," Ciro says, dragging you away from the crowd.
"Hey, I wasn't done yet!" You whine, trying to stop Ciro from moving.
"I don't care. You're drawing too much attention to yourself," Ciro replies, putting your cloak back on and walking you home.
When you arrive home, Ciro puts you in a windowless white room. You lay on your bed and stare at the white ceiling.
"It must be nighttime," You say, noticing your hair is straight. "I wonder what my creators do during the night? I wonder what humans do when the sun falls?"
You sneak out of your room and tip-toe to a room with the lights on. You hear arguing and hide behind the wall.
"You can't keep her to yourself!" Matias yells, breaking a glass.
"Says the man showed her clothes like it was a date!" Ciro hisses, making you flinch.
"Hah, please! If you want a date, try Mr. Prince Charming of Oceania! He was dancing and twirling with her in the middle of town!" Matias retorts, making Caspian stand up with fury.
"At least I wasn't trying to charm her with food!" Caspian yells, glaring at Abe.
"I don't see how you brutes made such a pretty thing," Leon remarks, looking at his peers fighting.
"Don't drag me into this, Mario," Aoi insults, making Leon grab his shirt collar.
"Don't call me that you piece of crap," Leon snarls, making Aoi smile.
"You know what, I have an easy way to settle this. Whoever is the last one standing gets to claim Every for their own. I always hated having to share credit for creating her, anyway," Aoi wagers, pulling out a blade.
"Fine by me," Ciro says, pulling out a dagger.
Everyone pulls out their blades, daggers, and knives and begins their battle. You try to stop them, but you get thrown to the side. Cuts and bruises are made, but no one is dead yet. A trail of blood leads to the art room, and you see Ciro stab Matias through the heart. The Spaniard falls to the ground and extends a hand as if he was reaching for you.
"Matias!" You scream, running to his body.
Leon's bleeding corpse is thrown onto you as Aoi is on a stabbing rampage. You glimpse at the hole in Leon's head and throw up on the floor. When you look up again, all is silent. The floor is painted red, and Aoi is the only one standing. He looks at you with a crazed smile and drops his blade.
"You're mine. My work of art. My woman," Aoi says, hugging you with his bloody body.
You can only hug him back in horror. A squelching sound comes from below you, and you see Abe stabbing a dagger into Aoi's back. Aoi slowly releases his hug, then collapses onto you. His blood has stained your whole being red.
"What am I going to do now?! You all were supposed to help me!" You cry, putting your bloody hands on your face as you weep.
You cry until morning. When you awaken from your exhaustion-fueled sleep, you find bloody footprints. Your former creator's latest statue, coined Luno, is missing.
"Where did it go?" You question aloud, getting up from the sticky floor.
"My love, you're awake," A naked man says, coming from behind a wall.
"Luno, you're alive?" You ask, backing away from him.
"Yes, the goddess of love spared mercy on us and brought me to life for you. Through the blood sacrifice of our masters, I am here to be your divine equal," Luno says, kneeling and kissing your hand. "I have all the traits our six masters did."
You snatch your hand away, and trip over Aoi's corpse.
"Princess, be careful. I don't want you to trip over anyone and hurt yourself," Luno says, his face shifting into something similar to Ciro's.
"I don't want anything to do with them! Not after how they killed each other!" You shriek, standing up and heading towards the secret entrance.
"My love, wait!" Luno yells, running after you.
You close the stone door behind you and pant, looking at it. Luno's muscular arm punches a hole through the wall, and his eye looks at you.
"Eve, don't run from me! We are made to be!" Luno yells, breaking more of the stone.
You don't waste any time running away, your feet leaving bloody footprints. You don't know where this passage leads to, but you don't want to be here. Not with him.
"Seafoam?" You question, seeing signs of the sea on the lower walls and stairs.
You get onto the last step and look at the blue water. Luno's heavy footsteps are getting closer, and you don't have time to think. If you were every woman on Earth, surely you could be a mythical creature as well. You dive into the water, swimming till you find the open sea. Your master's blood washes off of you, and you swim to wherever you want to go. Luno, arriving too late, stared at the bloody mist in the water at the bottom of the stairs. In his eyes, a vow to always be yours and always find you is made.
Thus beginning the never-ending cycle of you running from him. An everlasting, divine hunt for the woman with a thousand faces. Prey to be caught for the man with a thousand features.
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thana-topsy · 9 months
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1,6,8,11,17 for the ask thing!
Answered #6 in this post, and #8 in this post!
A fanon characterisation that you love
Oh, this took some thought. I went scrolling through my AO3 bookmarks for this one. But at the end of the day I have to go with my good friend @nientedenada's interpretations of Elenwen and Ondolemar in her Q&A style fic: "The Dominion is Here and They're Answering Your Questions" - her take deeply influenced the way I wrote both of these characters in "Hollow Men" as well as just helped to shape the Thalmor into people in my mind, as opposed to stick man villains.
11. Recommend a fic with an unusual/original headcanon or characterisation that you loved
Accidental Double Thalmor Post, but I'm going to have to recommend "Evil is Made of Us" by LeviathansEyes on AO3 for their masterful interpretation of the Thalmor. It's a purely OC-driven fic that's technically a sequel to a much longer fic, but I think it can be enjoyed on it's own easily enough. I had already finished up my own Thalmor-centric fic (Hollow Men) by the time I was reading their work, but I was still SHOOKETH by the end of that story. It was an unflinching look at how "evil" manifests itself, but also how, at the end of the day, people are just people. "Evil" is a concept within the framework of an institution.
17. Something you love that you don’t often share because you’re worried what others will think
Hmm... well, for the most part I'm pretty shameless with most of the stuff I share. I put myself out there in good faith, and generally expect that my work will be taked in good faith in return.
I think, maybe, if I want to be vulnerable for a minute, I'll admit that I tend to meme on Neloth publicly a lot to cover up just how deeply I've been impacted by writing his character. More below the cut, because this turned into a bit of a ramble...
I write Neloth as a low-empathy individual who arguably has a personality disorder (I won't throw around specific labels, as I don't think there is a specific one that I had in mind when going into his stories). My love for Neloth runs incredibly deep because I've been working with this fatally flawed, deeply damaged character who has built his own defences up so impossibly high over hundreds of years that even he is unsure of where his own walls end and the core of himself begins.
And then, to pair him with Teldryn, (which I think most people who only see the ship art or the memes think I just picked two characters and smashed them together for fun or because Hee Hoo Gay, which... isn't a lie, but it isn't the whole truth either). I write Teldryn as an endlessly compassionate person beneath the armor he's been forced to wear (literally and figuratively) over the years. The Nerevarine Prophecy left him questioning his own place in the world with a terrible case of impostor syndrome, and then the Red Year absolutely ripped out his heart (no pun intended??) and left him feeling that everything he did amounted to nothing. So he's cynical and jaded, he's hiring himself out as a merc, he has every reason to hate the gods and the life that's been thrust upon him. And then, for whatever reason, when I put him and Neloth in a room together for long enough, they somehow managed to crack through each others' shells. And it wasn't pretty at first, and, hell, it wasn't even romantic. But it happened. And sometimes, writing can be magic like that.
So here's Teldryn, a literal hero, giving this (by all accounts) terrible person a chance to show that he's capable of both receiving and giving love, actually. And that love can look a little different in everyone. And augH GOD, I HAVE A FUCKING CHARACTER TYPE, OK???
Anyways, tl;dr -- Neloth is actually more than just my special little meow meow babygirl blorbo, he is my shadow self, my darkest reflection, the opposite of everything I strive to be and everything I fear becoming. And I think, by writing him as still being worthy of love and companionship and joy, I'm writing to let myself know that I am also worthy of such things.
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mdhwrites · 1 month
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Fire Trailblazer is Slept on Too Hard
Since I got him, he has been a permanent part of my team. Literally only Skaracabaz has ever convinced me to take him out. He was my sole sustainer until Phantylia, at which point I rocked dual sustainers with him and Bailu and I have cleared up to Conundrum 6 of Gold and Gears with him as my SOLE sustainer running Nihility.
And very reasonably you might ask "HOW THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT!?"
They (and sorry that I'll likely use He a lot in this, I have Caelus) don't look impressive. They don't even look functional! A LOT of people have stories of what is supposed to be their showcase fight leaving only them alive to fight the Phase 2 of Jarilo 6's boss specifically because he couldn't keep them alive. So what gives? Do I just have the most cracked out Trailblazer on the planet with literally as high defense as you can get it?
No, I just have the defense set on and the Belobog Planar Ornaments on. I have okay defense substats but when I put together the set, I wasn't paying hard attention to substats and haven't grinded the set since. I admittedly have even defense boots on him so quite literally EVERYTHING gives him defense besides his gloves but that's it.
The thing that needs to be remembered about the role of sustainer, especially for preservation is that their job isn't to make sure you take no damage, it's about keeping you alive. Fire Trailblazer does that. Even if you're taking chip damage each round on your characters, he's still reducing the damage they're taking by roughly 10-20% of their health for most characters in the game. After all, max level of his ability might only be a bit over 6% of his defense but 6% of FIVE THOUSAND DEFENSE is still over 300, plus another 89 base on top. That's 400+ shield in a game where most characters have less than 4000 health at level 80, even when fully equipped, if not almost 3000. And the game's damage understands this, keeping damage a lot lower than you expect in most scenarios so that your DPSes in main content don't just crumple up and die from a light breeze. This gives them the extra buffer those DPSes need to stay alive A LOT longer.
And that's without recognizing two elements:
1: He has an emergency button for if aggro gets off of him and your DPS is getting hammered. His ultimate not only deals not an insignificant amount of damage (his damage scales off that giant defense stat after all) but also reups his shield because
2: Literally every action he takes gives you his shield. You don't need to spend skill points to get this buffer. If you do use his skill, not only is his defense already super high but he takes 50% less damage than he'd already be taking while giving a 15% damage reduction to your allies for those pesky AoE attacks. Which...
Let's admit one of the biggest issues for him: He doesn't have a natural taunt, he only has his skill. Admittedly, Preservation characters inherently pull more Aggro inherently but you DO want a Landau's Choice or Moment of Victory on him. I went from sometimes everyone ganging up on my DPSes and causing problems despite the party wide shield to that being a LOW chance of happening after getting Moment of Victory on him. But that only happened for me maybe two months ago. Slightly before Scaracabaz came out. I still used him before then because any defense Preservation LC works and I literally didn't get Landau's Choice until like maybe a month ago. My luck in this game is not good.
The other big detriment for him is that he is slow and his shield only lasts two turns. This is okay usually but it easily can leave your party open to the first attacks from the enemies (then again, there are enemies with 140 speed and so will outspeed most DPSes with their speed boots on so good luck stopping that damage with anyone) and there can be times where because your other characters lap him, they may briefly be without shields, especially if you don't hold back on his ultimate to be able to cover those blind spots. And the defense aren't insignificant. They give me 600 defense. Sure that's like 40 points of shielding but you are barely keeping your shields on people after an attack already. It can be daunting to want to swap out for that speed even if it means more consistent defense. But if you want speed boots on him with some good defense substats to help make up for what you're losing, it's the ONLY variable relic he has that has more than one substat you care about. Heck, his chest, rope, boots and orb could all be dedicated to getting speed substats if you wanted because they can't get the ONE substat he cares about otherwise which is Defense%. Unless you want to go Energy Regen Rope which is an interesting idea that I wouldn't go for personally but that's because I use his ult as a panic button.
I've saved his best role for last though, and frankly want to do a couple blogs about this game mode: He is the best sustainer in Simulated Universe. Aventurine is the only who is going to rival him in this and you get Fire Trailblazer for free.
That might sound even more insane than the rest of these claims but it's actually really simple. Shields are a lot harder to come by than healing in Simulated Universe. Literally only Preservation and Remembrance don't have a way to give you back health in their blessings. The only ones with any form of shield though are Preservation, Remembrance, Destruction and now Erudition. Erudition's requires using its keyword though so it's not easy to pull off while funny enough, the only one who can't heal in combat with a healing blessing they have without their keyword is Abundance. There's also only one relic that gives health during combat... But zero that give shields.
And hey, the way to get shields in these paths isn't consistent. The ONLY consistent shields (especially ones that are worth a damn) for multiple rounds in Preservation, the shield path, is a level 2 blessing that has an 80%/100% chance to give a 12%/15% shield, usually weaker than Trailblazer's already, and a level 3 blessing that gives its stackable shield. Meanwhile, the blessings that heal? Most of them are level 1 blessings with a couple stronger level 2s. Some paths like Hunt even get more options for healing once you have their keyword. That healing can turn on Abundance's blessings but you're going to hard pressed to enable Preservation through blessings alone.
Which is a kind of a big deal when one of the level 1 Preservation blessings just gives a flat damage decrease of 16/24% damage which is a LOT for the only requirement being that you have a shield on. Preservation in general has a lot of strong blessings that can be utilized by any other path, not just when you're focusing Preservation... So long as you have a shielder.
And Fire Trailblazer doesn't even stop there as his offensive ult makes him able to take advantage of some fringe elements like ANYTHING in Erudition and being able to be given a follow up attack from Elation. All while giving a shield that makes sure that your characters aren't one shot. Hell, I run dual sustainer a lot of the time with Bailu as backup and those teams literally HAVE to be oneshot to die at that point most of the time. I don't know if I've ever lost an SU run with those two as my sustainers.
So yeah, I REALLY like Fire Trailblazer. It'll be hard for any other version of trailblazer to be better than them in my opinion, especially as a free character. Aventurine after all is the one I said could dethrone him as the best sustainer in SU after all and he's a limited five star. The fact that no one else in my opinion has beat him yet is kind of a big deal. I won't say he's the best sustainer everywhere, Huohuo kicks ass and Luocha is honestly so mechanically perfect as to be a mistake, but there's a reason I haven't pulled on another sustainer's banner yet.
I already have one that has almost never let me down.
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Frankly, I could try to use Fire Trailblazer against Scarakabaz at this point. His death balls just kind of spooked me with their damage and so I actually swapped to running Bailu and Gepard for the fight so that essentially I could ult for ult his explosions. It's not a fast way to do the fight but it got me through it, even with Welt and Yanqing as my two DPSes otherwise.
And I am serious about wanting to talk more about SU stuff. I saw a comment of someone going "I can clear Memory of Chaos 12 but can't beat Swarm Disaster 5" and that has gnawed at me because it's a skill issue but a reasonable skill issue because not everyone is good at roguelikes. It's just that talking about that has so many facets it's probably going to be multiple blogs interlinked to each other because just general advice/rules I have on the mode would be LONG.
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