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#consider this a notice that ill be deleting
dr-gaytorius · 1 year
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Have you ever been so angry you can't sleep bc you're thinking about murder and revenge. This is worse than being too horny to sleep. Shaking and crying because how can I make him suffer without it tracing back to me. Things that are normal and regular
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destructive-path · 4 months
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having ‘single hot lesbians in your area looking to fuck!’ ellie brainrot…..
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tags: 18+ NSFW (duh) swearing, smut, strap usage, theres a x video linked for ur pleasure that loosely inspired this….
a/n: i had a much better ending to this but tumblr deleted it so sorry if the ending SUCKS also not proofread ( i have a gun ) IM LAZY
“fuuuuck.”
your grip tightens around your phone when the mystery woman you have been chatting with sends you a picture of herself.
the photo cuts off just below her nose, so you cant make out her full face.
her mouth is slightly agape.
the picture is illuminated by a red light.
the woman is wearing a black tank top and black jeans. she is slumped in a sitting position with one hand resting on her crotch.
its just bright enough for you to notice a tattoo on her forearm.
“fuckfuckfuck.”
this cant be real. is this real? she was hot. you couldn’t even see her face but you knew, she was hot.
“okay…”
hesitant to strike up a hookup with a possible catfish you took a second to consider the worst outcome of this situation. eventually you decided it was worth the risk, the longer you stared at the image on your phone the more the voice of reason dissipated. too eager to peak behind the curtain you let curiosity win.
when are you free?
E. 1 hour. you know the motel on 5th?
the creepy one or the 50s themed one?
E. …
E. the creepy one.
a regular romeo
E. 1 hour.
see you then xx
you clutch your phone to your chest and start to feel slightly manic. were you actually about to slut yourself out to some stranger you met online? on a website you found from a porn ad no less. apparently so.
with a toss of your phone across your mattress you sought out the bathroom in order to prep yourself for the night ahead.
this place wasn’t as bad as you remember, still creepy…but it had a solid remodel that eased your senses.
when you make it to the correct room number you stop for a moment just before your knuckle comes in contact with the door. should you turn around and forget this whole thing? being just inches away from your goal really made reality set in. before you can lower your fists and turn away the door swings open in front on you.
she looks even better in person. taking in the whole picture of her leaves you speechless. god those eyes. she was such a cruel thing to leave them hidden, you think.
one of her eyebrows raises at your frozen nature. but she doesn’t say anything and just leans against the door frame with her arm resting above her head.
“e-ellie?”
you question. with your hand still stuck in a fist formation as if you were still going to attempt to knock on the door. unable to move due to pure shock, you wait for an answer whilst the woman in front of you observes your state for a moment.
she gives your body a once over then steps aside to give you access to enter the room, still saying nothing.
“ill take that as a yes”
you say and make your way past her, twisting to the side due to the fact that she didn’t give you much room to enter the space anyway. once you land in the middle of the room your cheeks grow hot.
theres a king size bed in the middle of the room. for some reason the sight of only one bed makes you sheepish. it makes sense, you and ellie didnt link up to have a sleepover in some shitty motel in separate beds. still you couldnt help but feel nervous at what was to occur on that bed in the next few hours.
“youre late.”
finally she lets you her the sound of her voice. it shocks you. its more delicate that you imagined, its laced with some bass and a hint of rasp but still its, almost soft?
“im sorry?”
she’s unimpressed by your apology and growing clearly suspicious of your fidgety disposition.
“…”
you swallow thickly feeling intimidated by her stare. your eyes leave hers for a moment to observe her physique. her photo holds up in person.
ellie is less revealed in front of you currently contrasting to the image she had sent you earlier. a black button up hangs loosely around her shoulders, the top few buttons are left unclasped revealing the valley of her chest. you can spot freckles there. the shirt is cropped right above her belt buckle to which she fastens her equally loose fitting jeans. it creates a silhouette around her that makes your thighs rub together slightly.
“you’ve never done this before have you?”
you had stared entirely too long and you cursed yourself for it.
“are you- damn, is it that obvious?”
she leans into the doorway smirking slightly as she turns her head away from you. she’s attempts to hide her amusement, but you catch a glimpse of her grin.
“mhmm.”
she nods and bows her head. her tone reads like shes doing her best not to laugh at the current situation. like she should’ve known you would be this lost sort of thing, unsure of how to proceed with this sort of exchange. the notion has you riled up. she didn’t know you. what right did ellie have to decide that you were a prude? even if that wasn’t the case, you didn’t come here to be laughed at.
“so what your some sort of veteran?”
pure sass. ellies biggest vice. she hated retaliation from others.
“fuck off.”
you relished in the feeling of finally making her show you an emotion other than contempt.
“oh? its okay if you want a badge, just say so….”
your smiling now but as soon as you watch the woman push her weight of the wall and begin walking towards your direction you wish you hadn’t begun this dangerous game.
“careful. dont start something you cant finish.”
you were definitely in over your head.
—-
(consider)
if constantly chasing absolute pleasure was a sin, you were going straight to hell.
ellie had ruined you.
you werent sure how long it had been. whos sweat was sliding down your sides as ellie strapped into you with unparalleled precision. but you didnt care. everything had become so slippery, including your thoughts.
you had hooked up with other women before but never like this.
ellie was a grandmaster of pleasure. the bed room her chessboard. each move she made knocked over a piece of your fortitude. until you were left with no choice to fore-fit complete power insuring her victory in this match. having become bored of the somewhat vanilla hookups you endured, you sought out something a little more, dirty. something more raw, dangerous. maybe it was the thrill you chased, but there was one thing you knew forsure. ellie was filth personified.
if it were possible you would spend the rest of your life in the walls of this motel room. after what you could swear had been hours of experiencing pleasures (that you didnt know existed) you sought out more to no end. to ellies surprise, your stamina was impressive considering how foreign you seemed to intamacy this intense. something about that intrigued her deliciously. she had made it a point to see how far she could bend you until you broke. she wanted to see you cry. to scream her name for everyone in the motel to hear.
what ellie didnt expect is that she would begin to fold first.
you were so eager. the woman had flipped and fucked you every which way until her body was sore. but still you wanted more. your thighs were spread and knees pointed to the sky as ellies own resolve began to crumble. she supported her weight with her palm to your waist as she gave you what little energy she had left. too stubborn to let you steal an orgasm from her she struggled to fuck you at a consistent rhythm. you could feel her hips stuttering and the mere thought of her beginning to snap only made you move your hips against her faster.
jesus you were practically fucking ellie yourself now. even though she wore the strap it was you who was in control. every movement of your hips pressed the back of her harness in a way that massages her clit perfectly.
grip tightened on your hips as ellie began to chase her own high at the feeling of you rubbing against her.
“keep going. just like that.”
the sound of your voice oozing desperation, it was music to ellies ears. she was barely moving at this point losing strength by the second at your words. bending down to hear you closer she settles in your neck.
“yeah?”
she encourages more of that sweet music leaving your lips. the more moans you surrendered the more whines ellie rewarded you with. creating a symphony of lewd noises. the melody you two created so easily only fueled the fire in the pit of ellies stomach, which was now something closer to the size of a bonfire. her composure was burning at the seams and the only thing that eased the singe she felt was the taste of your sweat on her tongue.
once her mouth began its advances on your neck you could tell she wasn’t going to last much longer. you could feel the way she sucked on your skin like it was medicine. your pussy had brought her to a fever pitch and she would do anything to let it break. her tongue danced on your jugular and she swore she could taste your pulse. the suction she created with her lips left behind precious pink and purple marks in places where you couldn’t hide them if you tried. not that you cared, ellie made you feel so good you wouldn’t dare protest in fear you might miss a pleasure you were sure no one else on this earth could give you.
just a little longer, a little deeper you thought to yourself as your hands floated to the plush of ellies ass. pulling her so close to you that you began to feel her cock in the spot that made your whole body vibrate.
“t-there!”
you shout as your body resumes its involuntary progressions towards the womans hips. the pace of your hips doubling in speed finally makes ellie shatter into a million tiny pieces.
“w-wait baby im-“
you didnt mean to become obsessed with the feeling of it all. the way she thrusts into you until she cant move her hips any more, the feeling of her falling ontop of your body completely limp. the way her cock reaches so deep in you is too tempting. it feels so foreign and you feel so good that you have to see it through. until your broken and unable to move a muscle. you cant help but obsess with how she sounds in your ear while you buck your hips into hers. unraveling in your grasp.
you don’t pay ellie any mind as she comes while you roll your hips into hers. you cant. ellie had taken so many of your orgasms tonight that you relished in being the one making her succumb to a moaning mess. a string of ‘oh gods’ leaving her lips until finally she was chanting nothing but your name until you were seeing white.
with a final arch of your back at your release your bodies collide, the feeling of white hot pleasure mixed with skin to skin contact makes you both hum. your hand wraps around her back scratching there harshly before you bring her body back down to yours landing on the mattress with a soft thud.
two idle minds were all that was left in this space, too dumb to remember how to complete the simple act of breathing. neither of you can move as you desperately seek out any air to return to its rightful place in your lungs. needless to say it took a moment for you and ellie to form a coherent thought. or a coherent breath.
when a sliver of life entered ellies system she used her minimal strength to leave her home in your neck and support her weight just enough to remove the toy buried in you. the sight had stolen a chunk of strength. she sighed shakily at the way a string of your slick connected to her cock whilst she pulled away. the action causing her head to fall on your chest in awe. ellie was weak.
“perfect.”
you could barely hear the sweet complement leave her lips. before you could comment on it she placed a kiss on your sternum and trailed upwards until she met your lips in a tender peck. each time her lips made contact with your skin you twitched. even the smallest kiss left you feeling over stimulated.
you couldn’t help but curse yourself knowing that you just had the best sex of your life with a stranger you met online in a motel, and that if shed ask, you would definitely do it again.
****
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xvysarene · 18 days
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𝕌𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝔹𝕠𝕟𝕕
Pairing: Zayne x Fem!Reader Prompt: “I’ve built walls, and yet they crumble when I see you.” Words: ~2.5k Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff Notice: Y/N is not MC, Antagonist MC, Mentions of wounds
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His childhood friend exuded energy just as vibrant as her Anhausen class Evol, captivating those around her with her bubbly demeanor.
However, beneath the cheerful façade lay a calculated use of charm, a trait you couldn't help but notice, especially in her interactions with Zayne.
As a senior hunter, your responsibilities included supervising new recruits, and you discerned her manipulative tendencies over time.
"Just because you've seen me at my weakest, you’re not entitled to pass judgment on those dear to me. It proves how I've known her longer and better, as she would never stoop so low as to speak ill of you. I don’t need you babysitting me."
Quick to defend his adored friend and seemingly caught up in emotion, he voiced those unfavorable words your way.
You knew Zayne was a direct person, but being on the receiving end of those words hurt. Especially as you later realized that you harbored feelings towards the cold doctor, feelings that had unknowingly woven into what you had always believed to be a purely platonic friendship between the two of you.
“—and you’re here because?”
His voice jolted you out of your reverie.
Somehow, standing in the exact spot where your last conversation occurred, resulting in months of silence between the two of you, had clouded your thoughts.
You cleared your throat, trying to focus back on the present moment. “Greyson and Yvonne have been trying to get in touch with you.”
When news about Dr. Zayne taking recuperative leave had spread like wildfire throughout the UNICORNS, you had considered reaching out to him. 
Your fingers had hovered over the phone, composing and deleting messages repeatedly.
In the end, you completely abandoned the notion altogether when you heard his childhood friend’s not-so-subtly mentioning her plan to visit and cook for him while chatting with the short-haired girl from the Data Analysis sector.
“I’m fine,” he managed to huff out after a while.
Taking a swift glance at the unexpected mess on his kitchen counters—scattered papers and remnants of food packaging—you challenged him. "I thought we had moved beyond the superficial 'I'm fine' responses when asking about each other's well-being."
Zayne didn’t reply and you noted that he had absentmindedly leaned his long legs against the kitchen counter as if seeking support from it.
“You, the Chief Cardiac Surgeon of Akso Hospital, someone who enjoys his lack of free time, couldn't possibly have felt 'just fine' after being placed on recuperative leave."
“I wasn't aware that you still kept tabs on my whatabouts," he retorted, eyes slightly gleaming competitively. However, they lacked the usual spark; instead, they hinted at tiredness and something indefinable that looked familiar but you couldn't quite pinpoint.
“I understand that your friend has probably visited you, but my great buddies insisted I come and check on you. They didn’t want to pester, but after two days of no answer, they are beginning to worry.” You raised your hands in a gesture of surrender. “Though if I’m not welcome, I’ll leave you be.”
As you moved past him towards the front door, you felt yourself emotionally drained from the brief exchange.
“Why you, specifically?” his whisper caused you to stop in your tracks.
“They know we are—” you stopped yourself, “used to be each other’s confidant. They thought you might be willing to speak to me if not to them.”
He chuckled dryly. “Used to…”
His muttered words compelled you to turn. Your hunter’s awareness noticed how he had subtly shifted, leaning more against the counter with one hand supporting his weight while his body slightly hunched forward, facing your retreating figure.
His body trembled with involuntary shivers, and the silver-framed glasses that had been perched on his nose earlier now lay discarded on top of the black granite.
“What’s wrong?” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could stop them.
Your eyes instantly snapped to his arms, expecting to see the familiar bluish hue and the delicate, yet deadly patterns of ice crystals.
Instead, you saw fresh cuts on the back of his hand. Both of them.
A sound must have escaped your lips because Zayne quickly tugged at his light gray pajama sleeves, trying to cover his hands. He took a step back as he heard you stomping towards him.
Helplessly, he played a brief game of tug-of-war with you before yielding to your unexpected strength.
“What the hell,” you breathed out as you took the angry red marks marring his pale skin, making them stand out more. When you rolled up his sleeves further, you discovered fresh lacerations, a chilling reminder of the frost's icy grip.
You cupped his cheeks. It took his gaze a moment to gradually refocus on you, seemingly startled by the sudden skin contact. “Zayne, what happened?”
His lips were sealed shut. He began to resist, however, as you guided him towards his bedroom, but your hunter strength slightly won over his sluggish state.
Zayne watched you intensively check his wounds after you managed to get him to bed. They were more severe than the scratches you saw after you had cradled his frozen arms and succeeded in defrosting them using your Evol. It was when you found him beating himself up in regret for failing to save your partner during surgery.
As you stood up to fetch the medical supplies, his hand swiftly caught your forearm, surprising you with its speed. "You don’t have to take care of me," he insisted.
“Respectfully, Zayne,” you began, knowing he'd grimace at your next choice of words, “Fuck your pride and let me look after you.”
Seeing his familiar disapproving grimace at the brash word, you chuckled quietly to yourself. 
Your boldness and recklessness often clashed with his calm and collected nature, one that left people wondering how a friendship could blossom between two such opposites.
As the antiseptic scent filled the air and silence enveloped the room while you tended to his arms, memories flooded back to the griefful night when you had lost your partner.
He had treated your temporarily forgotten battle wounds after the frost had thawed from his arms.
“It’s not your fault,” Zayne had spoken softly as he cleaned your wounds.
Your breath stuttered, surprised by the doctor's attempt to console you. Many people regarded him as highly reserved due to the carefully crafted mask of indifference he wore.
"The other staff told me what happened. You couldn’t have known that he was bitten; a child Chlorostaga leaves a very small puncture, and it would only feel like an ant has bitten you. With adrenaline running high, he wouldn’t have felt a thing."
“He told me that his heart was racing unusually fast during the transport back,” you whispered, feeling the tears clouding your vision. “And I jokingly suggested he needed to do more exercise.
“He laughed at it until—“ you forced down the bile rising in your throat before being able to continue, “until he suddenly collapsed from cardiac arrest. We were only a few minutes out before arriving here to treat our wounds.”
Zayne continued gently dressing your gashes as you recounted the last moment with your partner. “His last memory was of happiness with you, feeling fulfilled knowing he had once again protected Linkon City from Wanderers... With his trusted partner."
The tears you had struggled to contain finally broke through, cascading down your cheeks in torrents. He held you close that day, offering comfort until every tear was dried.
From that moment, a bond seemed to form between both of you, drawing you closer from mere acquaintances to individuals you could trust with your deepest emotions. Only a few had ever witnessed each other's vulnerable state.
In the present, you noticed his breathing had calmed, and the hazel eyes that had been watching you carefully moments earlier had closed as you finished tending the last cut.
Gently smoothing out the crease between his brows, you couldn't help but wonder how troubled he must have been. “I’ve built walls, and yet they crumble when I see you,” you whispered, afraid of him hearing your secret.
You had tried to shield yourself from future heartache after you slammed his front door the day he had spoken harshly. Yet, seeing him so vulnerable, your caring for him only deepened.
Listening to the rhythmic sound of his breathing, an unexpected exhaustion washed over you like a tidal wave.
Sleep claimed you swiftly, and it wasn't until you felt Zayne's gentle touch on your shoulder that you awoke.
“You’re going to strain the muscle in the back of your neck sleeping like that.”
Still groggy from the unplanned nap, you couldn’t protest as Zayne easily deposited you to the space he occupied earlier, as if you weighed nothing.
Your skin flushed hot feeling his fleeting touch behind your knees. Blinking, you met his gaze as he settled back beside your feet on the bed, already looking much better than before.
As the heat from his body permeated the wool blend of his pajama pants, you could feel it warming the tips of your toes. “Are you feeling any better?”
He nodded, casting a glance down at his arms adorned with scattered adhesive strips. Awkwardness filled the air as you both grappled with the ever-present unresolved tension.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled softly. You looked up, startled.
"I'm sorry," he repeated more clearly. His hazel eyes, appearing browner under the dim lighting, seeking yours. "For saying those hurtful words to you, for failing to accompany you on mourning day."
Your eyes widened, surprised that he even remembered about the day that had occurred months earlier.
When he didn’t appear at the cemetery of fallen hunters on mourning day, an annual tradition to honor your late partner whom he couldn't save, you learned just how much he cherished his childhood friend.
While he hadn't explicitly promised to join every year, he had always done so without fail. At that time, you couldn't help but feel disappointed when you discovered he had spent the day with his childhood friend instead.
And perhaps, an ugly thorn of jealousy had begun to bloom inside your heart.
"Greyson gave me an earful after he found out about our... conflict, and then he pieced together why I was absent that day. Why didn’t you remind me?”
You broke away from his gaze, not prepared for the sudden query. “You are under no obligation to accompany me, so there's nothing to apologise for."
"I absolutely have to apologise, for on the day you mourn for your late partner the most, I callously had fun with my friend."
And there it was, his childhood friend once again stealing the spotlight in your conversation. You felt the barriers you erected creeping back into place.
"It's getting dark outside, I should head home," you said, retracting your legs and hurriedly standing up.
However, a warm hand on your wrist carefully pulled you back down, knee bumping with yours.
"I was ensnared by my memory of her innocence from our childhood," he confessed, voice heavy with regret. "She envied the deep connection we share and after overhearing your conversation with Yvonne, purposefully suggested a day trip to our hometown that exact day. She exploited my weakness for her gain, knowing my fond memories of our past together."
Zayne tenderly unraveled each of your tightly clenched fingers, soothing the nail marks that had etched into your palm.
It was one of your bad habits, surfacing whenever anxiety and stress took hold. Ever the observant person that he was, it was something he was well aware of.
Your breath hitched as he wove his fingers with yours, larger palm easily covering your smaller one.
"I'm the one who foolishly let myself be blinded and stooped so low, wrongly accusing you when your intentions were nothing but good-hearted." He swiped a hand over his face in frustration. “People praised me for my good judgement, but I evidently failed to make the most important one."
“And so this happened?” you gestured towards his arms with your other unoccupied hand. “Punishing yourself because you felt guilty for your lapse in judgment?”
She had heard bits and pieces of what happened from Greyson. The Chief Psychologist in the hospital had noticed Zayne’s peculiar behaviour for weeks—moments of zoning out and evident emotional distress.
Not wanting to jeopardise his patient’s health, he agreed to take a leave until he felt mentally prepared to return to his responsibilities, which required a clear mind above all else.
"No, it's me losing myself because I've taken advantage of the only person who understands me; to the extent of hurting that one person who, despite knowing her for a shorter time, has selflessly always been there for me." He placed a kiss on the back of your hand. "And fearing I may have already lost her, as I come to realize the depth of my feelings for her."
You whipped your head to fully face him, face flushed at his confession. His gaze unwavering, trapping you with fierce affection.
“You don’t need to say anything—”
“Zayne—”
“I just want to let you know that I’m sorry for causing you pain—”
“Zayne, I—”
“And I would understand if you don’t want to do anything with me again after everything that’s happened—”
"Zayne!" You moved to cover his mouth and lost your balance in the process, tumbling together onto the bed.
Him beneath you.
As you stumbled, his hand found the curve of your hip, supporting you from falling on top of him. While his other arm remained thrown over him, fingers still intertwined with yours amidst the sudden movement.
You could see him trying to mask his discomfort, no doubt feeling some of the deeper slashes being tugged.
"God, you really need to shut up sometime," you blurted out, catching Zayne off guard with your abrupt remark following his heartfelt revelation.
This close, you could see his pupils dilating at your close proximity, almost consuming the green in his eyes.
With profound confidence and a fuzzy feeling spreading inside your heart, you eased his mind. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The content smile painting his lips tugged at your heart. It was a genuine happiness that chipped away his usual cold demeanor. 
He squeezed your hip and slowly urged you to lay on top of him, a silent invitation to be closer. Strong arms circled around as you nestled your head against his throat, enveloping you in his scent—grounding, and slightly musky, like the scent of a forest after rainfall.
“I never want you to lose control of your Evol over me again,” you warned him, eyes closing as you felt his lips pressing on your forehead.
“I can’t promise, but—” he interjected before you could interrupt him. “I’ll work on myself for the better. It’s the least I can do for the one who holds the dearest place in my heart.”
When you opened your eyes again, you could finally pinpoint that familiar glint in his eyes, the one you noticed when you confronted him hours earlier in the living room; it was endearment.
As you lay down on his bed that night, fingers gently combing through his tousled midnight-black hair as he rested against your chest, it dawned on you that the glow of affection had been there all along, subtly shimmering in his eyes throughout the years whenever you were by his side.
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pencileraser1 · 2 months
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things i noticed/thoughts about most recent rewatches of dps (plus laserdisk deleted scenes):
whenever theres a group scene i've started watching the characters that the story isn't focusing on to see what they do and i've been having a fun time with that. pitts and cameron specifically seem to almost always be doing something interesting in the background.
hopkins!!!! my favorite minor character who somehow got character development despite having like 2 lines!!!! the last guy to stand on the desk but he did it!!!
sometimes i do like to think about what the rest of the students thought about the dead poets society, esp in alternate timeline neil lives dps keeps meeting universe. like yeah theres this guy in their class whose one of the most credited students in the school and we think he maybe started a cult. idk though. but that group runs out into the woods every few days to do god knows what and one of them keeps talking about "dead poets honor" whatever that means and holy shit welton star student neil perry started a cult.
i watched the movie with headphones. and maybe it's because ive seen this movie Far too many times and mabe i'm listening too hard but it was Really obvious sometimes when audio was added in post production. llke in the sweaty toothed madman scene when you can hear laughing and to be fair the camera is behind their heads. but it does Not look like anyone's laughing. my favorite is at the end of the phone call to chris scene where knox is like i'm gonna seize the day!! and runs up the stairs and the poets are cheering him on and neil is sort of yelling "carpe!!!!" and i could be wrong but i'm like 75% certain that the person singing is Also rsl so now neil is just speaking two times at once somehow. anyways it didn't ruin the experience for me or anything it was maybe just a little bit funny to notice but very sorry if this did ruin anyone's viewing.
people talk a lot about how rsl and ethan hawke really made their characters what they are but i have to add dylan kussman to that list. I get the impression that older versions of the movie didn't really give as much depth to cameron and watching dylan kussmans performance is like. he Knew who his character was so fucking well and it shows!! like the deleted scene of them getting clubs assigned. like i could tell So Much about cameron from that scene
for how little she actually appeared, there is an emphasis put on the fact that neil's mom smokes pretty frequently. and i think that's interesting considering neil is one of two poets shown actively smoking. neil's mom doesn't appear for very long in the movie but during that time it definitely seems like the movie is intentionally making parallels between the two, particularly in the last argument with neil's father. neil and his mother are both sitting for almost the whole time, which contrasts with his father who is standing. they are both almost powerless in this scene. they stand up at almost the same time. anyways there's a couple different possibilities for what this could mean? that i've though of? 1. to show that neil's mother is in a similar situation to the one neil is in in regards to neil's father and 2. maybe a stretch here but the theory that neil inherited his mental illness at least partially from his mother. i'm pretty sure 1 was fully intentional on the directors part, not entirely sure about 2 though
unmanned flying desket scene: it's probably cause he and ethan wrote the scene themselves but the way rsl talks in this scene feels more like the way he talks in general than the rest of the script. like briefly neil perry is talking in rsl's voice. one of my absolute favorite scenes though the sarcastic dialogue is so good.
the light of knowledge at the first shot of the film vs. todd standing on his desk at the last shot of the film paralel
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alicerosejensen · 16 days
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I love your page so much omg. I‘m literally obsessed with your work😭🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
Also I have this imagination in my mind going on about how Leon would try to help his girlfriend from recovering from her mental health issues since she’s always helping him. I was recently thinking about how he would react finding her not moving on the bathroom floor and trying to bring her back! I rewatched American horror stories and the scene with tate and violet in the first season episode 6 (ig?) is always in my head. I‘m still recovering from my past and my unhealthy habits and tbh recovery never felt better.
If this is too much for you or triggering please ignore this.🫶🏼❤️
I had a terrible period in my life when I was a few steps away from doing something like this in my life and unfortunately this shit often comes out. I'm not sure that such texts help me work through my psychological traumas, which were, in fact, inflicted on me and continue to be inflicted by close people who do not consider me a person, but at least such works help me to vent my pain, which I cannot permanently bury in myself.
I have been postponing this request for a long time because I was probably waiting for the right moment to write this text.
There are mentions of suicide, psychological trauma, severe self-doubt and anxiety, so if this is not acceptable to you, then please just block it.
Perhaps there is a similarity with my previous texts, but I am writing this with strong emotions now that I am trying to cope with it again.
the text is chaotic, I repeat, written while I was under the influence of strong heavy emotions. Maybe I'll delete it later, when my brain gets back to normal a little bit.
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If a songbird doesn't sing well, they wring its neck.
Maybe it was the costs of Leon's profession and the result of his constant missions, after which something human is gradually dying in him despite the constant struggle to save everyone. Raccoon City was supposed to teach, if not to survive, then make him begin to understand that some are doomed to die.
Leon Kennedy was taught not to offend, but to protect the weak, especially weak women. But it is difficult to calm the flow of disordered thoughts and put aside the fear that has seized him in order to clamp bloody wrists and apply something to them to stop the blood. Leon knew many strong women: Ada was perhaps the first among them, he did not know either her past or her real name, only the present that pushed their foreheads against each other; Claire, a fighting friend of misfortune that he met in that ill-fated city; Ashley, who turned from a baby eagle into a proud eagle; Angela Miller and others…
Your strength dissolves in the water, coloring it scarlet while your heart stubbornly still beats, let the rhythm noticeably shorten.
In truth, over the past few months it became clear that this was the only way out. When even your loved ones considered you an expired product and did not hesitate to remember this and remind you every time. In the end, their words turned into an obsessive worm that settled in your head, slowly day after day, month after month, devouring you and the circumstances seemed to be not in your favor. Instead of support, you somehow faced reproach, as if the universe was screaming that you were an wrong person, nature's mistake who had no right to live.
Escape attempts were doomed to failure. At first you tried to suppress it in yourself, helping Leon, because, in your opinion, he was the only one who had the right to complain about life, although he did not do this in front of you, because everyone said that you had no problems: you have everything limbs, there are no fatal diseases, all loved ones are healthy and there is a roof over your head, as if this is enough to not fall for nonsense and not walk around forever with a sad face.
This was the last time you shared your experiences. You didn’t even bother telling Leon, but everything inside was torn from constant pain. The feeling was as if you were being beaten by two extremes that led you to the edge of an abyss where you ultimately voluntarily jumped.
no, you really loved him, it was just other people’s words and your own speculation that convinced you, despite your strong relationship with him, that Leon would find someone better, someone more confident in himself, someone who would not be you because you had already missed the chance for a good life because it moved too slowly. Ultimately, a couple of sips of alcohol with sleeping pills and a sharp blade in his hands simply promised to correct the mistake in the form of you with your own hands.
You didn't have the courage to do it any other way.
But you really didn’t think that if you could try to open up to your loved one, you would meet support and not condemnation. Perhaps in a mad world he would be the only one who would heal your wounds as you healed him in your time. Leon clenched his teeth, feeling tears flowing down cheeks, seeing these crimson stains, when he pulled your body out of the bath, holding you close to him, repeating “I’m holding you. It's allright"
He so carefully laid you on his lap, managing to pull out a first aid kit and then bandages to tightly, albeit carelessly, wrap them around your wrist in order to somehow stop the bleeding. At least you were still breathing, thereby giving him hope that everything could still be fixed. the darkness and emptiness came to life, calling in a whisper to dissolve into eternal silence where there is no pain or condemnation. Your body will be in a grave under a gray stone, while the remains of your soul will float like a small grain of sand in infinity.
For Leon, everything happens in a fog; he tried more than once to save people, but he had no right to lose in this battle, even if you yourself surrendered to death. Shaking his head, brushing away the tears, he wrapped your body in a large terry towel, kissed your temple and picked you up, trying to somehow warm you, pressing you closer to him. the ability to provide first aid in the field and pull suicides out of the other world is not the same thing. Leon would have thanked God if he had believed in him, convinced that blood loss was the least of the evils that you had caused yourself, until he saw the remains of some substance at the bottom of the glass that stood on the table along with an almost full bottle of alcohol.
You really didn't give him a chance.
The ambulance took several minutes, which seemed like an eternity. In fact, Leon wasn't sure if it was worth trying to make you vomit when you'd already lost so much blood that it was already seeping through the bandages. Surely you would need a transfusion and Leon is ready to give you all his blood if only you would wake up. Holding his breath, he carefully looked at your chest, watching whether you were breathing and fortunately, your heart was still beating, slowly, but it was still fighting for life.
He stroked you on the head, kissed you, promised that he would take you somewhere else, quiet, where no one would dare to offend you, even if it was your family. You could have just asked him for help, just cuddled up to him and he would have protected you from other people’s attacks, but you preferred to remain silent. Kennedy was tired of waiting for the medical staff to let him in, although relatives should be allowed to see the patient first, but the position of a government agent sometimes had its advantages, and they concerned not only the high salary. When he was let in to you, it seemed to him that you had become half your size while you were lying on the bed, curled up under the blanket. It didn’t work out to pull off a beautiful suicide, which meant that soon angry relatives would come here with new sweat of bile especially for you. They won’t care about your feelings, but Leon sat down next to you, trying not to intrude too much into the space in which you imprisoned yourself, as if this blanket cocoon could be a separate world where you could hide. He spoke to you carefully, hating himself for not being able to understand in time what was wrong with your behavior; perhaps if he had been more attentive to you, the incident could have been avoided. You would see a psychotherapist, take a course of medication, and your environment would definitely be taken care of.
You cry, not letting him come to you, hating how you weren't just left to die and how much you hate this world. Hysteria after hysteria, nervous breakdown after nervous breakdown, in the hospital you repeatedly tried to commit suicide, but the attentive staff managed to prevent this before you inflicted fatal injuries on yourself, and if after some time Leon still managed to carefully break through your armor, then your loved ones This did not concern relatives in principle. You only allowed one person to visit you while you were undergoing psychological treatment and you behaved calmer and calmer, listening to the velvety words that soon all this would be behind you.
“We’ll go home soon,” Leon smiled, gently holding your hand and kissing your forehead, just glad that you’re alive, that you’re breathing and that your psycho-emotional state is slowly but improving. “You know, I have a surprise for you, I think you’ll like it when we get home.”
Soon what happened will become another nightmare in his life, a blessing with a good ending, but for the sake of this happy ending, Kennedy is ready to descend into hell at least every day.
You nod at him and smile a little, fearing that the gift is some kind of party on the occasion of your discharge. In fact, the last thing you want is to see someone’s faces, especially those who diligently hammered into your head how insignificant you are. Why do you even hope that the doctor will postpone your discharge, but the plans for your further treatment were completely different.
On the other hand, after taking antidepressants and psychological help in a special medical institution, how many men are ready to stay with their girlfriends who have been there for several months? For Leon, it seems this was not a significant problem, or he simply carefully did not show it. However, there were no parties, no calls, you simply returned now to his home where there were new interior items. it became somehow more comfortable... but something else surprised you.
Puppy. A small puppy of a couple of months old ran towards you and Leon to meet both of them, but stopped and began sniffing your shoes, while something thawed in your heart.
“Animals seem to help us well, They feel when we feel bad, it seems to me a good idea to get us a little companion,” Leon said quietly, stroking your back while you were busy with the puppy, rejoicing at the little living soul who will love you with the same pure and devoted love.
Ultimately it should have a happy ending too. Leon is ready to go to great lengths so that his beloved songbird starts smiling and singing happy songs again, even if it is necessary to remove other birds from her family who sleep and see how to pluck all her wings again.
You and he also have a chance for a happy ending.
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aita for telling someone they're a horrible person and making them relapse?
trigger warning: self-harm, suicide(?)
so im, like many teenagers online, an avid participant of fandom spaces and my current favorite is genshin impact. if you've ever interacted with the genshin fandom you may guess where this is going but i happened to find myself liking a ship that is the big nono ship in this fandom (aka the incest ship, kaeluc) but since i mostly stick to my space and don't really interact with anyone that doesn't already have content of this ship on their account id never gotten into any hot water over it.. until recently.
this person, ill call them rick, suddenly liked a bunch of my (non-ship related) posts. normal interaction, i didn't think anything of if and moved on. (i didn't even notice at the time, but they unliked all of the posts before what happened next, i assume as they realized i was a proshipper and didn't want to associate with me.) next thing i know, the same user is in my askbox, sending me the most vile, hate filled messages i have ever seen.
ok... no biggie. i delete the asks, block them and move on with my life. but it doesn't stop. i had never in my whole life received hate online, but now for the first time ever, i had a dedicated hater, sending me anonymous asks at all times of the day. death threats, dox threats, telling me to kill myself, calling me a degenerate and all that, all with the same consistent writing style. now, one could say that maybe this wasn't rick, and maybe not even all the same person but i really feel like this is the only reasonable explanation considering i have like 6 followers and my most famous post has 3 notes. i don't think im important enough to have that many haters.
so, i did the only thing i could think to do: turned off anon asks. then the asks started coming from random throwaway accounts. ok...turned off asks. then it was dms. turned those off too. THE FUCKING COMMENT SECTIONS OF MY POSTS.
dedication isn't enough to describe this. at this point it's actually becoming distressing to me and im considering closing my whole account cause i just wanna get away from all this. im 16, i don't have the mental capacity to spend all day policing my social media because someone wants me to die for liking fictional incest.
so i very reluctantly unblock rick and send them a dm. i very gently ask if they are the person who has been sending me asks/dms/etc and if they are, if they could please stop because it's become genuinely distressing to me and i just want to be silly on a website. they block me.
alright, im now out of options. everything on my profile is blocked at this point and i don't even want to post anything else so i just kind of leave the account behind for a while. when i come back, i discover that someone HACKED into the account and defaced the whole thing (changed pfp, deleted posts etc etc) so now im genuinely bummed. i go to rick's profile and guess who has been unblocked? i ask them if they can please answer my question. they don't answer but instead tell me i deserve everything ive gotten and i should choke for all they care.
i tell them they're a terrible person and go absolutely off the rails like the dumb, upset teenager i am. i didn't say anything particularly horrible (mostly i just tell them about how awful they've made me feel over fictional shit that really doesn't matter and how i just wanted peace) but i definetely wouldn't like to receive a message like that. and rick didn't either, because they blocked me.
well, since im sure you're wondering where this comes in, here's where i kind of feel like an asshole:
i continued to stalk rick's account on a different blog (because i was bitter. ok?) and they've been posting about how they relapsed into self harm because of a message they received from a stranger and how they've been crying non-stop and this is the worst relapse they've had in years and etc etc and i just got this pit in my stomach. this person's bio says they're 15! i don't want to ever be the reason a fifteen year old is hurting themselves! i've been feeling like a piece of shit ever since (esp since i also deal with sh) and i just feel like the worse person ever. i honestly don't know if i was just acting like anyone else and this was an unfortunate consequence or if i need to go pray for god to forgive my sins or something.
aita?
What are these acronyms?
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1/4: in a deleted comment on the AMA Ben said that while he was being scoped by doctors and trying to recover his voice he developed a vocal cord infection to top everything off. But the comment also included him complaining about people at the closing and someone assumed he was sh*t talking Sarah Brightman so he deleted it.
2/4: As someone who works in PR (and has judged Phantom for their terrible PR for years) the possible options look messy and make the production look worse than Ben. Either it was obvious from the start Ben would not be recovered from his vocal injury in time and so they told him he wouldn’t go on but they delayed announcing any cast changes to try and make it seem like it was last minute and illness-related and brushed everything under the rug.
3/4: Or Ben was trying to heal from his vocal strain in time and spent two weeks hoping he would be able to go on and mid-week closing week they had to scrap together a plan. Either way, the drama could have been avoided if on April 2 they said that because of doctor’s orders Ben was on vocal rest indefinitely and if he could not do it a secret Phan Favorite would take over. It’s just baffling because it would have been really easy to advertise Laird as a veteran from Phantom Broadway with advance notice while still doing a little segment at the curtain call to thank Ben and do a photo op with Laird.
4/4: As for Ben’s PR right now, it’s not a great look but he’s not going to be blacklisted for being messy on a small Reddit thread when known abusers still get cast in the industry. It seems like he’s hurt from missing out on getting closure the way he imagined plus not getting the limelight after being the lead for 3+ years, which is why Greg and Laird made sure to post about him closing night since the production didn’t. 
Oh, I SAW that comment. I was at work scrolling while on the phone with a client (who had been complaining uninterrupted for the past 15 minutes) when I saw Ben's answer and I nearly CHOKED. That whole reply thread quickly spiraled out of control (just WHY was that commenter so convinced that Nick Lloyd Webber was the son of ALW and Sarah Brightman??).
I completely agree with your take. I don't think the AMA was a good idea, especially considering how emotionally fraught this whole situation is. Ben is (understandably) hurt and frustrated by the entire situation and the Phantom management team should have handled this better. I'm rewatching the remarks made after the final performance, and I wish the prepared remarks highlighted Ben's contribution to the legacy of Phantom. I know his portrayal can be divisive amongst phans (and lord knows I've had plenty to say about him) but he's played the role for 3 1/2 years. He deserves some respect on his name.
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ofthenoseclan · 11 months
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Who is your favorite Touhou character and why? :0
sorry for taking so long to respond to this, i had to charge an infodump spirit bomb. also my original draft got deleted when firefox crashed on me halfway through typing
for a long time i considered renko and merry my favourite characters in touhou as a unit (and they are still definitely second place) but over time another character has grown on me enough that she overtook them in my mind, and that was toyosatomimi no miko!
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her backstory is a bit confusing for those unfamiliar with a very specific period of japanese history, so this is going to be a lot to explain, but ill try my best to recap it:
umayado no ouji, or better known today as shoutoku taishi, was a political figure in japan during the asuka period. he was regarded as one of the primary founders of buddhism within japan, which granted him sainthood status after his death. in recent years, the legitimacy of some texts chronicling his accomplishments has been doubted by scholars, making him somewhat of a semi-legendary historical figure nowadays.
in touhou, his biography is reframed a bit: shoutoku taishi was a renowned regent from a very young age, capable of listening to the concerns of many individuals at once and easily posing solutions to issues of the countrys people. he was incredibly caring for his nation, and so feared for the deaths of his subjects—and by extension, himself, as he believed he was the only one capable of leading his people away from strife. because of this, he sought for a way to live forever.
he was then taught the ideals of taoism by seiga kaku, an immortal taoist hermit, or "xian", who moved to the country from china. he wished to follow in her footsteps to ascend to immortality, but the process would take time away from his position as regent. shoutoku taishi needed to be sure that japans public would not be led to unfair death by an improper ruler while he was focused on pursuing taoism, so seiga recommended he first spread buddhism to the public, since its creed discouraged violent acts and power imbalance.
as time went on, shoutoku taishi noticed his health was dwindling faster than expected. the ascetic training needed to become a xian was something that took a great part of ones life, and he feared he would pass on before reaching immortality. so, he devised a new plan: he would become a shijie, a xian who achieves an unjust form of immortality by swapping their body with an item of great value to them. the object takes residence in their coffin, replacing their corpse, and the consequence of death they have gained by living in the first place gets passed onto it. the practice is said to fool deities who would otherwise come searching for them to take to the afterlife, sacrificing the item in their place. in this case, shoutoku taishi chose his shichiseiken, or seven star sword, as the object to swap places with.
to go through this process, one has to cut ties with their identity and all people close to them in their life in order to prevent deities from tracking them down, so after the former regent performed this ritual, he slept under the earth to lay low. while he laid dormant, his legitimacy as a historical figure began to be doubted by many, so his resting place was teleported into gensoukyou, the setting of touhou, where myths and legends that have had popular belief in them fade away get brought in order to survive.
the saint finally resurfaced in 2011 during the events of touhou shinreibyou ~ ten desires., the 13th mainline title in the series, taking a new form and name to avoid detection and subsequent judgment from deities of death. she is now known as toyosatomimi no miko, shijie xian and crown prince of taoist thought, who aims to convert gensoukyou to taoist beliefs using her renowned charisma and leadership skills.
my absolute favourite aspect of miko is not her backstory, but rather her personality. she is obscenely self-centered, truly believing 100% that she is the only one fit to lead gensoukyou, but nevertheless acts completely composed and dignified to maintain her image. she knows gaining power by force wont lead anyone to worship her, so she attempts to gain political favour grassroots-style, just like she did in her prime. she once showed up to a contest where people compete for the most visually appealing danmaku, and upon appearance said something along the lines of, "i truly hate to steal the victory so easily, but i appreciate the opening act before my arrival." no one could call her out for being insulting, however—because, reluctantly, everyone agreed her danmaku unfortunately was in fact better than the competition. this sense of flair extends to her design as well; she's got a huge focus on royal purples and golds, and her danmaku patterns have motifs of blinding holy light, befitting her high-and-mighty attitude of herself and her ideals.
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she has an ongoing rivalry with byakuren hijiri, the figurehead of gensoukyous buddhist group, who serves as her foil in many ways. despite publically endorsing buddhism, miko disagreed with its principles internally; now that her act is through, she sees it and its spokespeople as no more than an obstacle on her way to the top, and byakuren is no exception. because of the tension between the two, a lot of people ship them together. i dont, personally, but i dont dislike the ship either, its fun.
miko also has a major appearance in my favourite spinoff literature, touhou gumonkuju ~ symposium of post-mysticism., which transcribes an in-universe symposium between three different religious powers in gensoukyou: kanako yasaka representing shintoism, byakuren representing buddhism, and miko representing taoism. the three of them have a dialogue over how best to lead gensoukyou's people politically and spiritually. this book is wonderful to read if youre someone like me who enjoys touhou for its political satire, because it gives so much focus to the ideologies of these three characters and sets up a lot of dry satire and political text between these three characters with extremely varying mindsets. it gives these cast members a lot of time to shine, while setting up the finale of the ongoing arc within the games that introduced all three of them.
im a huge fan of mikos aesthetic in general. she has a really fun outlook and attitude, and whenever she is on screen she becomes the center of attention without fail. she demands attention, she is confident, self-assured, and an enormous prick, and i love her for it all. she is also, if only by technicality, canonically transgender, which is a big point in her favour for me. toyosatomimi no miko has grown on me for good reason; she epitomizes everything i love about touhous cast, plot, and worldbuilding. shes my ride-or-die favourite and likely will remain as such forever!
ps: here, check out a spell card of hers
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azrielfiend · 1 year
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a bunch of sketches/concept art/wips of hs!slugcats because i thought it was interesting to share! (+ my commentary because i love to ramble)
((looong post))
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first appearance of survivor and hunter, i did them in an aggie with my kismesis... although i drew on half of the canvas,, survivor looks very disasterous here because i was struggling to give them the most "neutral" clothes (the lines on their skirt is the the survivor karma/symbol) (ill get to it in the next image
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concept ideas for all of the symbols for the scugs, originally was going to also include the karma theyre associated with, but i quickly dropped that realizing how "complex" it would be on their designs, especially rivulets. you can actually still see this in monks design! their necklace still has the monk karma on it x)
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more survivor outfit failures... i think this would look too weird for me + unconventional in an environment where they have to run around the world (thats why i gave most of them shorts/clothes that make them move better. except for saint of course.) also, survivor with this outfit looks like toriel LOL
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i reeeeaaaaally disliked spearmasters older design. it looks uncomfortable. there was another one where they wore long black gloves and thigh highs (again, i did not like it so i deleted it and kept redrawing it.) sm also appears more spiky here, but the texture was too rough for me if that makes sense. i did not like the scarf either...
oh, yeah. i kept the artificer pose from this because it was too cool to let go !!! amazing considering i drew it with my finger on ibis paint haha
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this is the sketch for the second bundle of the designs, again i borrowed the artificers pose from the previous one x)) nothing to say much other than this is where i redrew the spearmaster (i still did not keep their long cape still, you can still see it in this sketch though)
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heres the third bundle... i changed the rivulets pose because they looked like they were holding in a pee........... saint looked too dramatic so i changed it too
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speaking of saint, this is their older design, i didnt keep the long hair because i thought it looked a bit too silly. i still prefer the one with short hair! also rivulet has way more frills in this than their current design
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and hey! speaking of rivulet, coming back to this. i kept changing their colors because something was bothering me and i couldnt figure it out! was satisified enough with the current one though
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going back to saint again, i was going to make them have a pink robe but it blended in with the tongue too much so i made it orange instead! strawberry saint would be... very interesting though!
now to the other stuff that doesnt have art/purely just text
heres vibes i wanted to have for each of the scugs and their shape language
monk = friendly, energetic, joyful, some sort of childish shape
survivor = neutral, unsure, wary, a mix of shapes intented to not make you feel anything
hunter = hostile, cool, alert, sharp shape
downpour ones!!
gourmand = "cool uncle" energy (i dont know how to explain it), silly, round shapes
artificer = dangerous, rough, unhinged, spiky shape
spearmaster = mysterious, elegant but still dangerous, agile, sharp shapes
rivulet = the "athletic dude" (gender neutral), bubbly (get it?), very long shape (i also made them the tallest scug due to how tall swimmers are the fastest)
saint = smirky, calm, quiet, cozy shape
id also like to mention this- the reason why hunters clothes are purple is because they are associated with nsh! not a detail that many people notice. also another thing that i put thd detail in, since monk and survivor are siblings i made their clothing styles similar to each other!!! the brainrot goes so hard!!!! i think thats enough rambling,, as i have many things to do..
if you genuinely read all of that, thank you for much??? not many people sit through my rambles and read them so aaa,, thsnk you again,, i better get going now!!
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chihoshisai · 11 days
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Days of Dash ch3
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Goth Family (Zoro, Perona, Mihawk) and Straw Hats (Luffy, Nami, Usopp)
Ch1, Ch2
cw : romance dawn trio shenanigans, face slap, arguing, illness, more straw hats to come // wc : 1,862K as a PREVIEW, the full chapter is 3,157 words you can read directly on ao3 or find the link at the end of the preview for the full chapter // kinda sucks that there's no brown for usopp
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Recruiting Friends : A Pathological Liar
“Let's make our way to the cafeteria then!” Luffy grinned, remembering the reason behind their outing while the notes of the first bell rang above his words like a deliberate sabotage. Zoro too, having been swept up in the recruitment of their new member, almost forgot.
“What? No, there's no time for that,” Nami began, exiting their place under the stairs, “we have to get back to class before the second bell rings or we'll be in trouble.”
“What,” Luffy whined, following her alongside Zoro, “but I'm hungry!” 
“How can you be hungry when it's still so early!” Nami roared in his ears, walking next to the two.
It was true that not enough time had passed to trigger one’s hunger, the weight of Zoro’s undigested meal pressuring his stomach in a bearable way. “Did you not eat breakfast this morning Luffy?” he asked, concerned.
“I did, in fact I ate eggs, ham, bread, pancakes,” Luffy began, numbering each dish on his fingers and harvesting the laugh of Zoro, along with the bewildered expression of Nami.
“Then how are you still hungry?!” She boomed in his ears.
Still grinning, Zoro's affinity towards his new companions increased, as the warm sensation of enjoying himself swelled inside his heart. “I'll give you some of my snacks to eat when we're back.” 
“Really, what sorts of snacks?” Luffy rejoiced, raising his arms in triumph before turning an excited face towards Zoro, and causing Nami to shake her head with a sigh. 
“You'll choose when we get there,” he simply answered, further smiling at the thought of helping his friend out. 
---
With the start of the curriculum, discovering the general outline like the beginning of a new book, class mostly consisted of reviewing previously learned concepts and testing the student’s knowledge simultaneously. Zoro, having no interest in academic matters, going as far as deleting whatever information he struggled to bring forth during tests once they were over, considered it a waste of time seeing that he could have been training instead. 
Now sitting at the back of the class, feeling the dull of time passing, he glanced towards his newly acquired connections — Nami sat upright, taking note of any additional information that may prove useful, and Luffy seemed oddly engrossed in his notebook, his hand fervently moving along the pages with his signature smile. Consequently, upon a stretch of his neck Zoro witnessed the meat looking shower of doodles that perpetuated to fill Luffy’s notebook with every move of his wrist. Zoro wasn’t sure what to expect, but certainly it was not this — Luffy was in a world of his own. With that thought dancing in his mind, almost bringing forth a smile on his face, the poor feature was forced to recoil at the murmur of Nami’s voice. 
“What are you looking at?” She arched an eyebrow at him, hiding her notes with her slender arm.
Taking notice that his neck was still stretched thanks to her, Zoro simply returned a bored look while distancing himself from her desk. “Nothing, I just wanted to see what Luffy was up to,” he mumbled with a shrug. And as his words caused Nami to glance towards the said straw hat student, Zoro silently grinned as he saw the exasperation rain down on her features, making Nami aware that responsibility towards their grade would fall on her shoulders.
The rest of the class consisted of a mixture of focused students, attentive but easily distracted ones but all failing to capture Zoro’s attention, as he thought of them like similar looking plants, while his eyes lowered to his empty notebook before turning to the translucent color of the window, ignoring his self reflection to gaze at the faraway school ground that glowed under the soft gold of the sun. 
His first day had been going well, far better than he had expected and with the right company, the glimmer of hope made him consider that maybe he wouldn’t be labeled as a problem child with anger management this time around. Chuckles and contentment had found their way into his heart and behavior ever since his meeting with Luffy, making for the right aspiration towards change. Plus the school seemed to host far worse concerning cases than him, so there was that too. 
With his head in the clouds along with the speech of the teacher sounding like nothing but the buzz of a bee, Zoro found his peace disturbed by the ringing voice of a classmate.
“Me, the Great Usopp, will gladly answer the question,” a long nosed student confidently stated with a hand raised. Seeing from his peripheral vision that Usopp had managed to capture the attention of Luffy, Zoro momentarily parted from the window to watch with expectation the way in which the right answer would be delivered. 
“It’s no big deal since I’ve got an IQ of 300,” Usopp boasted, following the praise he received from the teacher, while remaining steadfast in his gloat as some of the class erupted in a muffled laughter at his unreasonable fact. 
“300? Surely there’s no way,” Nami silently pointed out under her breath, her eyes fixated on Usopp with a dubious expression. Right, his claim might have sounded akin to a lie, but it was enough to incite a chuckle out of Luffy, whom Zoro saw due to Nami’s comment.  
“300? That’s amazing!” Luffy intensely exclaimed, sharing his innocent opinion around him. 
“It’s not true!” Nami quickly told him in a scolding manner.
Curving his lips in disappointment, Luffy disheartenedly lowered his voice in response. “What? It’s not?” 
With the fuzz of the class continuing still, Zoro took the opportunity to chime in on the conversation, “how could you believe such a thing?” he asked him, intrigued at his thought process.
“I just thought it was true,” the straw hat earnestly answered, before the shush of the teacher slithered throughout the class to bring back the respectful academic atmosphere. 
Zoro exchanged a last look accompanied by a grin with his seat neighbors before bringing his attention back to the window that greeted him with its unchanging scenery and so until the ring of the bell, like a pandemonium that would stir anyone from their occupation, came announcing the second break.
“Usopp!!” A loud Luffy yelled, rising from his chair. 
“What’s with you?!” The surprised voice of Nami came asking, resulting in a synchronized startle from Zoro who felt his mood irk at her sudden uprise.
Upon hearing his name, the person in question turned to see the frown of a scary looking green haired student, a cunning yet almost certainly double faced expression of a tangerine colored one and the clueless, carefree look of the other. “I must’ve heard the wrong name,” Usopp loudly muttered, visibly intimidated by the strong atmosphere as he rigidly stood from his chair and to disappear behind the front door.
“Why would you call someone’s name like that?!” Nami scolded, a hand latching a slap along Luffy’s shoulder. 
Slightly losing balance, Luffy gave her an apologetic look, “he seems like a funny guy so I wanted to ask him to join our friend group,” he whined. 
“Then just walk up to him and talk to him like a normal person,” Nami angrily roared in his ear, making Luffy feel small. “You’re only scaring him by yelling like that!” 
Her words certainly weren’t wrong, but upon putting himself in Usopp’s shoes, Zoro thought of it as nothing too alarming. “Well that’s one way to do it,” he shrugged.
“Don't encourage him,” the fury directed itself at him, causing another flinch to occur in Zoro at the sight of her inflamed eyes and the fist that threatened to rain down on him. If her blows were strong enough to deal damage on Luffy, Zoro dreaded the feel of her punch, as he remained silent after a slight grunt. 
Which proved to calm her enough as she sighed, a hand to her forehead. “Let’s try to ask him again alright Luffy?” she turned to face him, only to be faced with an empty seat and a backdoor that stood aghast. 
Grinning, Zoro stood from his seat, “seems like he got a head start,” he glanced towards the seat, before making his way towards the sea of hallways, a discouraged Nami following in his track.
---
Walking amidst the bright veil casted by the sun on the corridor, the chatter and laughter of other students filling the air with a sense of youth, Zoro and Nami quickly paced util noticing the peaking red lining of Luffy’s straw hat and who seemed meters away from interrupting the conversation of Usopp.
Leaping with unforeseen speed, Nami extended her arm to grab the loose back collar of Luffy, “didn’t you hear what I said earlier?! Don’t scare him off,” she hushed in his ear while dragging him away, having avoided a disaster. 
To the silent Zoro who stood watching the scolding, he thought that he along with her dubious demeanor might’ve scared Usopp more than the straw hat did, but he preferred to keep that comment to himself, unwilling to attract her temper to him and instead crossed his arm.
“But—” Luffy began, his arms limping by his side while his once loose necktie itched at his neck, courtesy of the pulling.
“Plus look, he’s clearly talking to someone,” Nami pointed out, interrupting and pushing the attention of her listeners towards the conversing Usopp, who stood with his back turned at them, his conversation carrying to their ears.   
Seeing a frail looking girl, her skin almost resembling snow despite the glow of the sun, Zoro came to the conclusion she must’ve been from another class as he didn’t recognize her. Not that he paid any attention to his own classmates since having already formed connections. But seeing how the girl kept glancing towards what seemed to be her classroom, almost eager to return with her mood growing bittersweet by the second, Zoro came to deduce as much.  
“Kaya, you really shouldn’t be here,” Usopp pleaded, hesitantly extending caring hands towards her. “Can’t you see that Klahadoll is evil in letting you come here?”
She drifted, avoiding the upcoming touch with a shaking head. “How can you speak of him like so, Usopp. He does not wish me harm,” she swayed upon speaking, making the four who had their eyes on her to flinch in worry — Usopp grasping her by the arms in a gentle way towards steadiness. 
Releasing what he held upon feeling the feeble attempt at wrestling away, Usopp further tried to beseech his reasoning. “Kaya, listen to me, I’m telling the truth this time, Klahadoll will be the death of you!”
Visibly losing her temper, the hand that found its way grazing the cheek of Usopp with a stout piercing sound, made all who stood nearby halt in shock, their mouth gaping. “Klahadoll has always protected me,” she stubbornly protested, her hand hovering in the air, while the stunned expression of Usopp lowered towards the ground, a cheek red from the aftermath.  “I’ve always liked listening to your stories, regardless of their credibility, but now you’ve taken it too far.”
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Find out what happened between Kaya and Usopp on ao3!
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unstabull · 4 months
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TW victim blaming, mis-gendering in screenshot
TW personal mentions of my own abuse /trauma
warning for a long post
So I was going to just block and move on but considering @bcbdrums decided to post a screen shot with my username and tag the whole soul eater fandom in an attempt to, I dunno, shame me? I feel I need to at least say SOMETHING on my own behalf. I am trying to learn I matter and can stand up for myself and I think this is a good time to practice that.
So when the original post was made, in my head I was thinking to myself "I didn't tag or say who said the thing, I simply made it known the thing was said, so I could give my own opinion" and although I was a bit nervous in the end I decided this is my blog and I am allowed to have and even share an opinion.
I am a nervous mentally ill trauma survivor myself hence why I love Crona in the first place, so when I first even noticed the comment on my original post I was filled with immediate fear, because I had already openly disagreed with this person before. Now after some hours of panic and my mate waking up, so they could tell me what the comment said in the first place, (I was too frozen with fear to even go on the app), they suggested I not delete my post (which was my immediate reaction) and instead just block and remove the comment.
I did this because one I wasn't looking for an argument or a discussion, if I was I'd of reblogged the original post where the original thing was said. Two the reply itself was talking about how "the quote in that book meant adult child relationship-" I literally addressed this first thing by saying that no adults, in the universe in which we are discussing, are offering that help. So by starting with that they were ignoring what I already said. Three if you innately hate Crona why are you even near my blog? Personally I hate soul x maka and I could go comment on everything to do with it, but guess what? I don't, because I don't need to.
Now, when I was shown parts of a post, you ask why no one will talk to you about this ship, and instead they block or ignore you. From just a small search from back at our first interaction, I found many posts proving it would of been pointless to try discussing anything with you. One of the most concerning to me was this one:
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you clearly hate Crona (and misgender them). In this post, you victim blame an abused child saying that they're willing in their actions? "Dont care if (their) mom was horrible that's no excuse" You are blaming an abused teen for doing what their abuser tells them they must, this kid is 15 and been groomed since day one of its life, and you're calling them cold blooded and willing? meaning they feel nothing no remorse and want to do these things? that's literally not true you are just insanely bias by your hate. If you actually understood what abused kids go through and feel you would know Crona had no options and deeply truly felt it had no choice. Even Maka understood this.
Now I'm not gonna continue about that or even go out of my way to pull any "evidence" for you on why Crona was clearly unwilling, because of posts like this:
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"Crona should have died" like why the hell should anyone even attempt talking to you about this subject, when you're saying stuff like this? "It would have made Crona's story meaningful" you've obviously made up your mind that Crona is some heartless monster undeserving of forgiveness, and will forever be guilty in your eyes, so the idea you really believe you are capable of discussing this topic is ridiculous. And I'd like to stress again, you are talking about a mentally ill, abused 15 year old in the above post... fictional or not, I find your hate towards this abused teen disturbing. I really can't even imagine how you would view and treat real victims of abuse. I mean again even if it's fiction, you openly think a teenager deserves to die because in your eyes its the only way they can, what? "repent"? Like honestly that's pretty ableist in my opinion. The fact you can't accept that Crona is worth helping and deserves to be saved shows just how little you got out of this series.
Now I am going to discuss more personal topics and down to why I felt I truly needed to say something in the first place.
As previously stated I am an abuse and trauma survivor myself, I have been through a lot, and my first abuser was my older brother, and therefore I could not get away from him. Having a family member abuse you from day one and constantly be in power of you, and above you, and stronger than you, is extremely detrimental. I had him bullying me almost 24/7 growing up until I was finally about 11 or 12 when he went to live with my bio father. I was SO relieved he was leaving I cried with relief and couldn't wait till he left. And It wasn't until a couple of years later when I was about 14 that he came back. I was terrified. Now here's where people assume I should have said something or done something or perhaps even isolated completely to get away from my abuser (I did that near the end).
Well as a survivor of abuse I tend to always blame myself by default, and back then I had no confidence, I was pretending to be cishet, and also hiding that I wasn't "normal". So when my brother came home I was subservient to him almost immediately. I kept his secrets, I played the role assigned, I was his punchline, I was his errand boy.
Like Crona I felt I had no options and my best choice was to protect myself and to do whatever my abuser wanted and keep them appeased. Even if that meant hiding everything and pretending we were close. Yes Crona is fictional but their character means a lot to people who have been through or are going through abuse like that especially familial. And your comments that Crona is a willing participant and guilty because they do what their abuser says, really is insensitive to people who have been in a situation or are still in a situation in which they must do what an abuser wishes, or believe they must do it.
Now another point you keep bringing up is how "Crona needs therapy" an argument that is moot because no one in the universe in which this character lives is offering such help. And even if they were openly offering therapy to Crona it's still not the only thing mentally ill abused people need. Especially ones that have gone through childhood trauma and continued abuse.
I first went to therapy when I was about 15 or 16, because I was young I was treated as if I had no need to depressed or struggling in the first place. My first counselor not only taught me that masking was best so that I didn't make others uncomfortable, she also would talk about other cases she was working on. I decided to find another. Again because I was young I was not taken as seriously, and because I had learned to mask so well from my last counselor my new one didn't recognize any signs and after a year she "graduated" me. I've tried a few others throughout the years and all to no avail. It took me a bit more than decade from my first counselor to finally find one that knows what they're doing, has been through trauma, and is actually helping me.
"Go to therapy" isn't the magical fix neurotypicals think it is. And asking us to completely open up to strangers in a system that could possibly lock us up and harm us for our thoughts and feelings is such a ridiculous request. Most mental health providers I have met are not trust worthy.
Now that doesn't mean I have said anywhere that therapy doesn't work, or should be avoided or disregarded. But I am also not going to pretend like it's all we need either. I am a mentally ill, trauma survivor and I am so tired of people telling me what I experienced, and what I need. I know exactly what I needed, I was there. And I know what it's like asking adults for help and looking to adults for help and getting none. I don't need to have someone come at me on my private blog trying to convince me that I'm wrong and that I don't know what I'm talking about when I have literally been through a lot of what I discuss. Also I don't need someone framing it like me posting on my personal blog about a book on trauma and a fictional character is "spreading misinformation" that's ridiculous. I have done nothing wrong.
As someone with experience being abused and being through trauma I know for a fact if I had, had someone near me, near my age to befriend me, and that I could trust, that would have done me a lot of good. Not because they would have "fixed" me but because I would have gradually started to learn that I am capable of being loved, and that I deserve good things. A very important step for those of us with trauma.
And in conclusion I want to say this whole thing has been quite ridiculous. The fact there was even a need to publicly post the screen shot with my username included in the first place, along with adding the tags to the main fandom to, again I can only assume, try to shame me? is just weird to me in general, and all this because I blocked someone for my own wellbeing. This is all I have to say on the matter, I felt I should stand up for myself, and after seeing a screen shot of this person saying they "really want it to be explained to them" I decided to give the reasons why I don't bother discussing topics with people like that, and people who think in the ways shown in the above screen shots, there is nothing to be said, because they are never going to listen. I hope this marks the end of whatever this has been, I have said what I feel I not only have a right to say but honestly should say.
I want to thank whoever reached the end of this post I appreciate your time, and if you agree with either of the screenshots above we should now part ways.
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officialgleamstar · 10 months
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For the art ask game 8 ! 2 3 6 !!!!
hi cubey!! :D i wasnt sure if the 8 was on purpose but i answered it anyways!
art ask game!
8 | what's the most fun and the least fun parts about your process
i love doing line art (which may be surprising, considering how little i do it nowadays LOL). i think its really fun to finally watch everything come together and to refine the sketch!! i barely enjoy it more than sketching though, they're pretty tied to me.
least favorite part... probably shading. ive never been very good at understanding what parts of the body will be hit by light, no matter how many observation and life drawing classes ive taken lol. i love shading a still life! but when it comes to the human form, not so much 😭 i cannot explain how many drawings ive done, like, three layers of shading, took a step back, then deleted every layer and posted it as flat colors instead because i hated it LMAO
2 | what's your favorite thing about your style
ohhh thats hard. i really like my art in general, honestly? i dont think im a fantastic artist, but i do think its clear that i like. went. to school for it bhbjfdghjbdfjh im proud of my art!! i really like drawing noses i guess and i think my style works well for good variation there? i still need to practice more types of noses, but i think im already doing well, so ill say that! the noses.
3 | what's your least favorite thing about your style
very small thing but EARS. I HATE HOW I DRAW EARS but i also dont know how to draw them BETTER ? i used to just never draw them. then i used to do them more detailed, but it always just looked... odd. i think it looks better without the extra details because i always did it weird, but it still looks goofy. its such a small thing though that i dont know that anyone else would ever even notice LMAO also! jawlines. my style very much favors a round soft jawline, which is obviously my default (stares at my art and tries not to think about same face syndrome), but then i try and do a sharper jawline and feel like im dying LOL im trying to get better at that though, because i want more facial diversity in my art. scary and veronica marlowe i just know you have sharp fuckin faces and im trying to get better at showing this aspect of you every day
6 | warm colors or cold colors
WARM COLORS!!! orange is my favorite color! i love warm colors! i tend to use a mix of both in my art though, i like the way warm tones and cool tones balance each other out :]
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wc-confessions · 1 year
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I'm not the treetops anon but darktiger is darkstripe/tigerclaw, and I'm gonna be honest someone shipping that is not really a red flag? specifically, it's a bad ship but the tourner dans le vide map caused irreparable damage by neglecting the fact that darkstripe was like. tigerclaws apprentice. it caused this damage to the extent that in a non-au map I was in, someone made a part where tiger and dark were apprentices TOGETHER. so basically anyone who didn't notice the 1-3 lines in prophecy begins And watched that dumbass map (very large amount of ppl) would think it's a normal ship. I have also been in a treetops map, treetops has been in 2 of mine, and considering that anons judgement appears mildly skewed, I'm really gonna have to give tree the benefit of the doubt. if they're actually racist ill rescind that doubt but also..... we gotta acknowledge not everyone is a diehard book reader. it isn't always that deep
ahh ok thnx for the context. and if they dont come up with proof then i'll delete the ask.
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thenexusofsouls · 1 year
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Private Muse: Nuada Bethmoora
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[Bio and other information below the cut!]
Type of Character & Fandom/Source Material: Fantasy canon character from the movie Hellboy II: The Golden Army (I used to write him over at @fallxnprxnce​).
Disclaimer: All the information in this post is a mashup of canon information and my own headcanons/fleshing-out/OCs, etc. I’m not going to bother to mention what’s what for most of it or I’ll be here all day, heh, so I’m just going to lay it all out as one narrative. If you have any questions on whether something is a headcanon or was actually in the movie, or you want further explanations about anything below, please don’t hesitate to ask. I have been developing Nuada, his friends, and his world for many years, so although this post is long, it is only a fraction of the info crammed in my brain about this muse, haha. So yes, feel free to ask about anything you wish. Please do. =)
What I Mean By “Private Muse”: This muse is only open to mutuals and people I already rp with, so no new partners with this one for now. I have my own mental health and time constraint reasons for limiting him, and I only want to write him in a limited capacity and on a trial basis right now. Anyone can send him or me informational asks (ones that aren’t starters or rps, but that just ask questions about him), but for actual rps I’m keeping this mutuals and regulars only until further notice. If you aren’t sure if I would be willing to write Nuada with your muse(s), you can always ask me through the inbox or messager.
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FC: Luke Goss as Nuada
Species: High Elf (collectively refers to ancient lines of full-size, humanoid, bipedal Elven races; seen as sort of nobility among Elvenkind... as opposed to smaller, non-humanoid-shaped, quadrupedal, shapeshifting, cryptid, or aquatic races of elves)
Race / Ethnicity: Sun Elf (a race of High Elves associated with the sun, fire, heat, gold metal, gold and yellow and cream colors, and the growth of plants as nurtured by the sun; these elves are distinguishable by their cream skin, golden hair... unless white from age, ochre colored eyes, and ochre colored blood; they are known for their battle prowess, musical ability, intelligence, dexterity in many trades, and their resistance to fire)
Bloodline / House: Bethmoora (the longstanding ruling House of the Sun Elven race)
Age: Ancient (2K+) (Sun Elves are immortal but not invincible; they can still die of injury, illness, broken hearts, and they can “fade,” which is a graceful way of saying they lose the will to live and die of what they call “natural causes”; they consider fading to be nature’s way of returning them to the earth and allowing their spirits to rest when they have served their purpose in life; fading is cause for grief, to be sure, but it is also seen as something natural and better than living with bitterness, anger, or sadness in one’s heart, or outliving one’s usefulness in life)
Gender: Male
Romantic Orientation: Demi-biromantic
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Occupation: Prince; Warrior
Family: King Balor (canon father, deceased or not based on verse); Queen Elunae (OC mother, deceased, but her ghost still hangs around him, unbeknownst to him; I used to write her under the url “queenofbethmoora,” but the blog was deleted because of T.umb.lr derp); Princess Nuala (canon twin sister)
Potentially Triggering Material in Threads: Violence; g.enoc.idal tendencies (against humans as a race compared to elves); toxic thinking and relationships; sibling rivalry; patricide; sui.cidal ideation 
Negative Personality Traits: Arrogance; anger; impulsivity; shortsightedness; stubbornness
Positive Personality Traits: Bravery; fierceness; loyalty; passion; perseverance; and a surprising amount of love even though it’s been tainted in some ways over the years
Important Personality/Nature Aspect - Nuada’s “Wild Heart”: This is something that I’ve spent a long time thinking about and detailing, and it is crucially important to Nuada as a person, as it influences his thinking and actions in many ways. I call it "croí fiáin," which in Nuada’s native language means “wild heart.” With Nuada, it’s not just a case of being hard to catch and hold onto, being a free spirit, or being a restless person with a lot of energy. It’s much more than that, and it is a condition that is so much a part of him that he cannot escape it. It functions almost like a medical or mental health condition. It’s the essence of the difference between a domesticated animal and a wild one, on a mental and spiritual level. In this post, I explain all about it and give links to other posts that go into some analyses or talk about it from Nuada’s point of view. There is a good chance it will come up in threads, so you may want to read some of it over. Or you can just ask me for a quick rundown, that’s fine too.
Nuala was not born with this same "croí fiáin" condition. Even though they are twins, Nuala is very much Nuada’s opposite in personality, demeanor, emotional/mental inclinations, and temperament. She balances him out. So in contrast to his wild heart, she is serene, calm, practical, and measured. Their people believe that they are very literally two halves of one soul. The two of them together make one whole person, so each of them are incomplete without the other. This is a rare but known phenomenon that occurs among Nuada’s people, and it is the reason why they are physically and mentally linked to each other as well. Their people believe such occurrences of this split-soul phenomenon are indicative of some kind of special destiny for one or both of them, and that they are both cursed and blessed.
Important RP Note: I DO NOT ship Nuada and Nuala romantically or sexually. I know this is canon, but I’m just not doing it at all, sorry. My twins have a very negative relationship, with each believing they have been wronged/neglected/unappreciated by the other. Nuada is possessive of Nuala, and he does get jealous if she takes romantic interest in others, but that doesn’t mean he’s in love with her or wants her for himself. His jealousy more stems from his desire to mean as much to her as their father and others have, since he believes he doesn’t. It’s... a whole big mess and a longstanding feud of resentment between them. Nuada was closer to their mother but she died when they were younger, and Nuala was closer to their father. He resents Nuala for being their father’s favorite while also being jealous of others she gives her attention to. But yeah... I absolutely don’t ship them with each other.
Important Potential Medical Condition, the “Iron Malady” (tw: depression and suicidal thoughts/actions): The Iron Malady is an illness I created for one of my fictional medieval fantasy worlds that afflicted my own original races of elves, the Silverwood and Purplewood Elves. But I’ve also developed it for Nuada’s people as well, and this is actually the illness his mother died of. You can read more about it here. At its core, it is a lot like dying of grief or a broken heart, but there are some very specific causes, symptoms, and cures for it.
Background and General Information: I... don’t even know where to begin with this, heh. I’ve fleshed out parts of his childhood, his mother and his relationship with her, how his mother died, his early relationship with Nuala, his interactions with magical creatures that are now extinct, what his adolescence was like... There’s just so much. I feel like things will come out as they come up in threads? I’m just way to lazy to write out everything I can think of, haha. Feel free to ask me anything you’d like about him, though.
But very generally speaking, Nuada was born a prince to King Balor and Queen Elunae, along with a younger twin sister, Nuala. He’s a Sun Elf, meaning elves that are associated with warmth, sunlight, plants, forests, dawn, and the color/metal gold. They are naturally resistant to fire, cannot be burned, and unaffected by high temperature climates, but vulnerable to injury from freezing and hindered by cold climates. They are one of the older and more major races of elves, and one of the few with surviving members in the present day. Bethmoora is a well-known and longstanding House within Elven culture, whether you’re a High/Sun Elf or not. It was also a well-respected House, but news of Nuada’s break from the family and self-imposed exile put a tarnish on his reputation, and partly on Balor’s as well.
I keep pretty much everything from the movie as canon, I just add in a lot more to fill in the blanks, so if you’ve seen the movie, you’ve already got a good jump on Nuada’s story. Anything in his past that needs explaining or that comes up in threads, I will try to give enough context to understand it.
As far as the story of the movie if you haven’t seen it, Nuada is angry at humans for destroying the earth and causing the dwindling and extinction of numerous races and species, most notably his own. Non-human races have been relegated to the dark corners and underbellies of the Earth, being forced to live in fear and confinement out of sight and with the safety of their own kind. Instead of living in vast forests, Nuada’s people live underneath human cities, among brick walls, dark sewers, and metal pipes instead of trees, lakes, and mountains. They’re dying off, giving into what they feel is their time to “fade,” but Nuada, as one of the last real warriors of his race, refuses to fade, refuses to abandon the earth to human destruction, and refuses to accept that the future has a strictly human face.
His cause and his arguments are just and sound, but from there, he embarks on a cruel and misguided campaign to eradicate all humans from the planet using a weapon called the Golden Army. It is an army of magical, indestructible clockwork soldiers of goblin make that can almost instantly repair and rebuild themselves the moment they are damaged or destroyed. They are deadly, possessing immense strength and sharp blades. Whoever has the gold crown that conveys ownership of the Army controls their agenda. Nuada sets out to obtain that crown, which has been thirded to prevent anyone from taking control of the Army for the wrong reasons.
One piece says with Balor, one with Nuala, and one was given to the humans as a gesture of peace. Over time, humans forgot the treaty and the story, allowing their Elven friends to fall to ruin and treating their crown piece as a trivial piece of art. Nuada kills his father to obtain his piece, crashes an auction at which the humans’ piece was to be sold, and then goes after his sister for her piece. Nuala does everything she can to keep Nuada from getting the piece and reassembling the crown, but he does anyway, gaining control of the Army. Hellboy challenges him for control, being demon royalty himself, and Nuada has no choice but to accept. They duel, and as Nuada is about to win in a rather underhanded way, Nuala stabs herself, kill herself and her brother, since they are linked. Hellboy, now in control of the Army, ponders all the power it could afford him, but his girlfriend Liz melts it, destroying it forever.
I usually write Nuada before he thinks about gaining the other crown pieces, or I write him as not being able to find the human piece, kindof to stall the canon story in the movie so I can have more time and freedom with him in threads. I keep his basic agenda and opinions, but just pause the main story of the movie for threads to happen, heh. But I’m open to whatever people might like to explore at any point in his timeline.
Magical and Supernatural Abilities: 
Fire resistance and heat tolerance (e.g. holding the glowing hot map case without burning his hand)
Empathic and somatic link to his sister since birth (they are mentally linked over long distances, and their bodies mirror wounds and ailments between them)
Potential for empathic link creation with others by touching with his hands (Nuala and Abe created a link between them by touching their hands together, so Nuada can do this as well with other empathic individuals if an emotional connection is there)
Supernatural empathic capabilities: gleaning information from individuals, creatures, surfaces, or objects by touching them with his hands (e.g. knowing who touched an object last, learning someone’s name by touching them, or seeing what recently happened in a room by touching the walls)
Magical energy infusion: granting qualities, characteristics, or abilities to weapons or individuals by infusing them with magical energy (e.g. his spear lengthening and retracting; flawlessly regenerating the spear head)
Magical compulsion: compelling individuals and creatures to do something by lacing his speech with magic (e.g. whispering “kill him” to the forest god)
Friends: These are characters that tend to make somewhat regular appearances in threads with Nuada, depending on the location and nature of the thread. (See below for details and lots of links to posts with headcanons! Just be advised that these are from Nuada’s now-inactive blog and many of these posts are very old. Some of the info and links contained within them may be outdated.)
MR. WINK (a rock troll, also known as a rock ogre to some): Nuada’s righthand man, no pun intended. XD Also his close and dear friend. He is strong, brave, loyal, and shares Nuada’s hatred of human beings.
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Appreciation post
How Mr. Wink met Nuada and how they became so close
Mr. Wink & sweets
Mr. Wink & tea
Mr. Wink hates sneezing
How Nuada sees Mr. Wink
THE BARK CHILDREN (small earth fae): The little two-headed creatures seen scampering all over the Troll Market. They act as messengers as well as eyes and ears for Nuada throughout the Market. They are innocent, intelligent, timid, playful, helpful, and curious.
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Appreciation post
How Nuada sees the bark children
Nuada musing on the bark children’s treatment of him
Headcanons based on canon, part 1
Headcanons based on canon, part 2
Bark children and naming/identity
Jix & the bark children
TOOTH FAIRIES (small sky fae): Tiny, cute, but ravenous little fairies with an appetite for biological calcium, e.g. the calcium found in bones and especially teeth. They are one of the most intelligent types of fairies, able to speak and learn. They are playful and mischievous, as well as frenetic and talkative.
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Pictures of the fairies
Gifs of the fairies
Nuada befriending a poisoned fairy
“CATHEDRAL HEAD”, A.K.A. THE ARCHIVIST: A wise old cartographer and archivist who makes and stores maps, scrolls, formal documents, and important letters in his library/shop. He lives and works in the specific Troll Market that is located underneath the human city of New York City, under the borough of Manhattan. He is well respected and trusted by many.
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Appreciation post
The most interesting thing about this fellow is that his race are typically colonized by very tiny beings who build on top of their heads! They build from biological material (bone, keratin, sebaceous material), so the cathedral on his head is actually made of living material, an extension of his head. Tiny members of this wee race live inside the cathedral, and if you look closely, you might see lights going on and off in windows, or even the tiny creatures walking around on ledges and walkways.
The tiny race that lives on the Archivist’s head are actually involved in a mutually beneficial symbiotic relationship with him. They gain nutrients and building materials from his body as well as protection from the outside world, and he gains a very valuable protective covering over his brain. Otherwise, his kind are born with very soft heads and frequently suffer brain injuries without the benefit of the hard, keratin-based (the same material that fingernails or horns are made of) material shielding them.
When someone of his race is born, tiny colonists from the diminutive race are introduced onto the baby’s head. As the individual grows, the colonists build and multiply, protecting the baby’s brain from harm. When an individual dies, their colonists are transferred to infants, very often within their same family/bloodline.
The relationship between the wee race and the Archivist’s race is considered a very sacred trust, with each race benefitting and protecting the welfare of the other. The Archivist loves his head colonists dearly and takes very good care of them. His race considers it a solemn honor to be colonized.
Potential Starter Ideas:
Maybe not a starter, but if you want to ask Nuada about his family, friends, life, etc., I have spent an inordinate amount of time fleshing him out over the years. I’ve expanded his family, detailed a lot of inhabitants and aspects of the Troll Market underneath which he makes his living space, and have elaborated on things like his fears, triggers, likes, dislikes, customs, habits etc. He’s my oldest T.um.blr muse that I really took seriously, and back when I wrote him (2015 to 2019) I had a lot more free time than I do now, so I had the time to spend delving into the minutia of his life and world. Feel free to ask him (or me) about anything, as I would love to get back into this muse I put so much work into in the past.
The bark children see Nuada as a protector of them, of their community, and in general someone to go to when something is... going down. They will inform him of threats, curious things they find, things that scare them, and intruders. Very often bark children will show up in threads with Nuada because they are such a part of his life. This presents a number of starter opportunities... A pair of bark children could be captured and put in a pet store, and your muse can set them free and let them lead them to their home. Or, your muse could be wandering near to a Troll Market entrance and encounter a pair, and decide to follow them. In other words, bark children can either directly or indirectly lead your muse to Nuada for various reasons.
If your muse is non-human or would be able to access the Troll Market with magic and gain entrance, they could hear about Nuada from the bark children or the Archivist. Maybe they go looking for him for some reason?
He could be injured and need help. If you’ve written with me at all, you know how I love the classic “I could die if you don’t help me” starters for threads, heh. Being shot by police in the city is a very likely thing that might happen to him. Or whatever injury situation we could think of is also fine. Fair warning that he would be grumpy in this situation. Or... your muse could be injured and if they’re of a race Nuada would be sympathetic toward, or he’s just having a bout of rare empathy for a human. He would likely take your muse to his home beneath the Market to watch them. He can’t heal, so he’d have to treat the wound and then just... wait. Makes for interesting conversation, heh.
Fun facts & Colorful Information: 
Nuada’s and Nuala’s facial scars were given to them as infants. They designate them as royalty. Nuada was actually going to receive them first, since he is the eldest, but then they manifested on Nuala’s face automatically as a result of their supernatural somatic link. That was how Balor and Elunae found out their twins were two halves of one soul, or one soul split into two bodies. Them being born with this rare condition was seen as a potential curse or blessing from the gods, yet to be determined.
The darker coloration around Nuada’s eyes and lips compared to Nuala and others of his kind is indicative of the corruption that has taken hold of him. He is literally being poisoned by the negative energy of the dark path he’s chosen to go down. Negative emotions, evil, cruelty, a lack of mercy, and lapses in moral judgement are slowly poisoning him, both mentally and physically. This corruption affects his physical health as well as his personality and decisions, and is very similar to that experienced by Wanda Maximoff (1, 2) in the MCU.
Nuada was very close with his mother. When he left in exile, he took with him his mother’s wedding necklace, once a gift from his father to his mother on their wedding night.
Three reasons why Nuada might be pushed to violence.
I once did a rudimentary analysis of Nuada’s living space underneath the Troll Market, looking at everything he keeps/stores there. You can find it here.
If you want to know what Nuada thinks about fictional depictions of elves by humans in popular media, or his opinion on wandering about on Halloween, you can read about those topics here.
On the subject of human items being sold in the Troll Market and the general diversity to be found there: 1, 2
Nuada and Mr. Wink looking at human billboards
Nuada and Mr. Wink taking in the sight of the elves’ “home”
Muse Playlist: These are songs that I have used and turned to countless times for writing inspiration, many of which I’ve been associating with Nuada for many years. Some of them are related to the movie in some way or have had music videos set to clips of it that I’ve linked to, but most are just songs with lyrics that fit his mindset, the mood, or various situations perfectly. 
Hellboy II Trailer Song / Reminds me of a quote from Nuada: “Let this remind you why you once feared the dark.”: “Mein Herz Brennt” - Rammstein (it’s in German, so here are the translated lyrics)
Main Theme Song: “Mordred’s Lullaby” - Heather Dale
The Golden Army: “Invincible” - Two Steps From Hell
Determination: “I Will Not Bow” - Breaking Benjamin / H320 dubstep cover version
Ancient Battles: “Heart of Courage” - Two Steps From Hell
Exile / Savior Complex: “Torn” - Creed
Pride: "Live Free or Let Me Die” - Skillet
Arrogance: “Fireproof” - Pillar
Anger At His Father and Sister: “Numb” - Linkin Park
Relaxed: “Kindred” - Jillian Goldin
Thinking/Meditation: “Nothing Else Matters” - Metallica
Pensiveness: “Winternight” - Visions of Atlantis
Sadness / Brokenhearted: The Old Ways - Loreena McKennitt
The Old Religions: All Souls Night -  Loreena McKennitt
Heritage: “Ancestors” - Albannach
Wildness: “Beat the Speed of Sound” - Emmelie de Forest
United/Determined Twins: “Awake and Alive” - Skillet
Divided/Adversarial Twins: What Have You Done? - Within Temptation
Breakdown/Downward Spiral: “Let Go” - Frou Frou (Imogen Heap)
Failure/Defeat: “Failure” - Breaking Benjamin
Final Battle: “Blow Me Away” - Breaking Benjamin
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