#I’m so very sorry about this long post

[invece-sto-sdraiato]

Rant about everybody’s waiting (and some general fandom stuff) cause I finally found words to my feelings:

tw// mental health struggles, anxiety (can you notice that I’ve never done this before 🥲)

Yes, okay at first I was skeptical about the song. Reasons? I’m not entirely sure (yet) but once I heard the whole thing, I was like, “ok, not as bad as I thought, kinda my taste but will take time to grow on me…” by now I can definitely say that it’s super experimental and brave of them to do something like this, so props to that! I think the second half of the song is what really convinced me.

Lyrics-wise? As much as I understood the meaning, the importance they held for bojan, I didn’t see myself actually “getting” them, if you get what I mean. I didn’t understand what they even meant, at first. (well, I couldn’t hear some words in the song properly)

But now these-

What a wonderful life, panicking

A perfect time to get lost in deep, unoriginal line

There’s nothing left, just flight or die

Lonesome and run down

Can’t tell the sky from the ground

Turning around

Okay now… this hit me straight in the gut. (not sure if these are accurate, feel free to correct me) This… doesn’t exactly explain my feelings, but they sure do come pretty close. This made me realise certain things about my personality which I never thought about before. I was never the “take it easy” type and these words…somehow remind me to slow down sometimes… (I’m just rambling here atp)

I’ve always, ALWAYS been a nervous wreck, since maybe I was ten? And I’ve always gotten anxious about so many things (whether they’re in my control or not) for so long, that I just thought it was human nature to feel so much, and I thought everyone else was just better at handling it than me. I’ve never thought to label it or even address it, cause it was so ingrained in my unconscious, to know that it isn’t normal.

So, seeing how important it is that bojan is addressing this issue is not only a big deal for Slovenia, it is for me too. Joining this fandom, I see so many of you being so open, so vocal about things I generally would’ve never dreamed of admitting (it also does NOT help, the fact that I’m from an extremely conservative country 🥲)

The first time I ever felt accepted, or seen was here. People in my life till this point, have shared similar opinions with me, but no one actually got to know me, the real me because there was always that disconnect that somehow made me distance myself from them. Obviously this is all online and I don’t know any of you personally, but y’alls sheer honesty just makes me go waaaahhh (the only word I can think of rn)

And I think, the real therapy for me was talking to @da-proti-toku-grem and @paperphilia thank you so much for your kindness and acceptance. It means the world to me 🥹

(especially the fact that @paperphilia you asked me “are you ok?” after seeing my rant about the jance photo shoot. That is something I will not forget for a long long time.

And maca, obviously our long conversations will always have a special place in my heart (love you!)

Huh, okay this is getting too long. Anyways whomever of the baby boos reads this, just thank you so much for being there, a part of the reason why I’m happier now. This song ended up being therapeutic for me, who would’ve foreseen that lol.

[bloobydabloob]

Holy shit I love your Dirk interpretations, it's so true and I could talk about this shit forever. I feel like another part of his character that people seem to forget (along with Roxy for some reason) is that he's from the future in solitude in an apocalyptic wasteland. I just see that part of his character always removed which is disappointing because I feel like that's a pretty big part, especially regarding his themes around technology, his brother's theme of Time, his own isolation, and how he plays in the vastness of the universe and spacetime.

Art I drew related to the subject because I like to respond to asks with art.

But absolutely. I certainly understand where the lack of discussion over his isolation + upbringing comes from, considering a majority of the fanbase that I have seen builds their ideas based on their own version of postcanon. I’m not entirely sure how that would be fixed, but certainly even in the somewhat recent past I would see a lot more content regarding his upbringing both literally and symbolically. I don’t have much to add regarding the things you’ve mentioned, because they just are what they are. Dirk being confined to a singular room left to him by a father figure he never met, in a future where the only other person left on the planet is someone he cannot pursue a relationship of because of himself, with purely 3 robots to keep him companion, one being an exact replica of his own brain who is *also* trapped inside a pair of glasses, is about as literal as it gets to me.

The contrast to me involving the flooded, organic world in comparison to the little speckle of Dirk’s apartment packed with the dude and his technics is not only a representation of his isolation and entrapment within himself, but also of his lack of control. I think his obsession with & themes of control are a direct product in the case of Dirk specifically *of* this kind of upbringing. His themes of technology are also related to his themes around control. So much of his character is actually revolved around this to me like so much. Dirk is so deeply disconnected from humanity in every way and so much of his character + symbolism is based around that.

It doesn’t even have to be about the symbolism or anything though. It’s just pretty *interesting* in the literal sense that he lives in the middle of the ocean in the future. There’s not only a lot to theorise on to do with his young life there, but on how it might affect him in the way he acts for the rest of his life. The latter part is probably what I see mentioned the most by people talking about Dirk regarding this, I’m surprised I don’t see more discussion on the former too though. I really ought to actually talk more about Homestuck stuff on here. I will do it myself.

Roxy & Dirk’s relationship is largely ignored though because there is a narrative a certain demographic spreads that Dirk resented and blamed Roxy for her interest in him, and thus too many people believe that their relationship was or would continue to be an abusive one. Realistically, I believe it’s important to acknowledge that the way Roxy treated Dirk regarding his homosexuality wasn’t right while still acknowledging the obvious amount of respect and admiration Dirk had for Roxy. I mean we have a huge piece of dialogue from their post trickster mode conversations on the quest beds from Dirk purely stating how he feels about Roxy that people completely ignore somehow. I think this usually happens to characters that are women though. I know everyone says it, but it is true. Jane gets the exact same treatment of boiling her down to solely her negative aspects. The things I see completely mischaracterising both of them are horrific.

I mean how much more explicit can it get that their relationship is obviously very important to Dirk? But I digress. I think the best or I should say “most interesting” interpretations of their relationship usually come from DirkRoxy shippers actually.

I would be interested to hear about Dirk’s relation to his brother’s theme of time though. I don’t have any thoughts on this and I don’t recall ever hearing anyone talk about it before. If you or anyone else would be willing to enlighten me I’d be thrilled.

[marybatson]

the only reason I hc billy as an emancipated minor is literally just so that mary can still live with the bromfields and freddy can be fostered by the vasquez family. so rosa and nora have no actual relation to each other or have the rights to tell billy what to do but theyll pick him up for school and have extra bedding and a toothbrush saved for sleepovers and knuckle down his head (rosa) and fix his collar (nora) and. will pick up a household object and swing harder than any mlb player could trying to protect him faster than he can blink

[turtleblogatlast]

Things I make for myself when insomnia kicks in

Just a chart about what I wanna change up and keep consistent in my art - I mainly wanna draw Raph with a tail because he deserves one, it fits too well. Donnie gets a long tail too because I didn’t realize how dino-like he looks until I gave him one, and now it’s a must for me haha.

[legendoftherisingtide]

[intro]

Bakugou is a prideful, arrogant person. He holds himself to the highest standard; he is the best and everyone else is simply below him. Everything he has ever done was in pursuit of being number one, shining above the rest. He has to have a perfect victory, he has to be a perfect student, he has to win to save.

He pushes and pushes and won’t let anyone see his weaknesses or his insecurities. He can never lose, he can never fail, he can never show that he regrets or hesitates or that he hasn’t thought everything through. He must never be vulnerable in every sense of the word.

Then why is he standing in the rain.

To apologize shouldn’t be a sacrifice, but it is for Bakugou. To pour his feelings, to admit his wrong, to let down all of the walls he has built and be vulnerable. And in front of his whole class.

He is willing to sacrifice his pride, to fully sacrifice any superiority he could have, to bare his soul and even risk rejection. Because he knows Midoriya is more important. Because he wants him to come home, he wants him to know his true feelings, because he wants things to change. 

Because Midoriya has changed him. Midoriya has opened his eyes; by showing him he’s allowed to be open, that his feelings should be expressed, that he has so much to learn, and so much of that was learned through Midoriya just existing.

He isn’t sacrificing his safety frivolously because he’s expected to as a hero; he is doing it because he has grown. He is doing it because he has finally admitted to himself that he wants Midoriya to be with him and safe.

So I will sacrifice this for you. Not because it will change anything, as much as I want that I know that I can’t just fix all the wrong with just this. And I am willing to do as much as it takes to earn your forgiveness. But I don’t need that from you, not now and not ever if you don’t want that, I just need you to rest. I did so much wrong. And I am sorry for everything. You don’t have to do this alone. Lean on us. You are so strong and being supported doesn’t discount that. You’ve taught me that. 

I hate the rain. But I will brave it for you. 

He would do everything in his power, admit so many things, just to get Midoriya to take care of himself. We see him being the most vulnerable he has ever been in front of people that aren’t Midoriya. He does so much completely out of character, all in pursuit of being there for Midoriya. 

For Izuku.

He finally gets over himself and finally tells Midoriya the feelings he has felt for so long.

He lets go of this idea he is inherently better and finally acknowledges that his hatred for Midoriya has always been about his own shortcomings and insecurities. But he still wants to be better, they are still rivals. He isn’t going to sacrifice that part of him because that is just who he is; he is still going to push to number one.

But now it’s different.

There is verbal and vocal acceptance and respect. Before it was unspoken; their relationship had changed ever since Ground Beta. They were proper rivals, with mutual respect and care, they were actively making each other better.

But Bakugo finally verbalizes it and tells Midoriya, not only is he sorry, but he wants to actually have a proper friendship; he wants to continue to become better and earn his forgiveness. He wants them to push each other to be better, he wants to continue to fight for the top spot, he still wants to be the best.

But when did it become something else? 

When was the turning point when it started to shift from wanting to surpass Midoriya and be the best, to wanting to keep up with Midoriya and stay by his side?

Bakugou has already sacrificed himself for Midoriya before. His body moved on its own; with no hesitation, he would save Midoriya. He has already risked his life for him. But there is a layer to it that I don’t think people talk about. 

He tells Midoriya he shouldn’t try to win this on his own. 

He disguises his concern with an insistence that he’s in it to fight for himself when he initially joins the battle. But it is to fight by Midoriya’s side and support him.

But taking the hit for Midoriya, jumping in the way isn’t just support. This is sacrifice. This is giving yourself to ensure the safety of someone. And it was second nature. 

There are two reasons and both are a sacrifice of something in the moment.

It is knowing someone is so valuable, so great, in all senses of the word, that they must be protected. Bakugou is sacrificing his body and admitting that Midoriya needs to stay alive, for personal reasons and/or for the world. He needs Midoriya to be okay, Midoriya can’t fight alone and Bakugou will do anything to make sure he will be okay. 

But the sacrifice of ideology. 

With every development, he has relinquished parts of himself. When he sacrifices himself he is not only sacrificing his body but is admitting that he can’t do this on his own; he needs Midoriya too. This isn’t him wanting to be better than Midoriya, it’s him wanting to do it together.

Midoriya changed him.

He doesn’t die for Midoriya. He wakes up and just as his last thought was Midoriya, so was his first as he woke up. He runs to his side. People are dragging him back, trying to have him rest, knowing before he even said anything that he would lose his mind over Midoriya’s situation. 

Everyone sees how Bakugou feels about Midoriya.

He sacrifices himself because Midoriya can not die on him. Midoriya has to stay alive. Midoriya has to keep fighting. 

There can not be a world that doesn’t have him in it.

This is the culmination of what has been developing ever since the final exam where Bakugou finally works with Midoriya; the day that win to save, save to win was noticed. Then furthered after Ground Beta where they finally talked to each other and something changed within them both.

But the final sacrifice is the culmination of Bakugou’s character.

He knows what this decision will mean. Everyone screams for him not to. He knows that he is going to die. He knows he will not win this fight.

This isn’t dying for the cause. This isn’t just a hero complex. This is because he can help Midoriya and he will. This is for Izuku.

I will sacrifice myself for you. To give you more time, to give you even the slightest chance of winning. I will sacrifice myself for you because you are who can win. I am going to die. I am going to die and in my final thoughts, I will ask if I will still be able to be by your side.

It is no longer can I beat you. It is no longer can I surpass you. It is can I still catch up to you. It is can I still even be equal to you. He has already sacrificed the idea that he could beat Midoriya, that isn’t what he wants anymore. What he wants is to stay here with him.

I will sacrifice everything I am. I have wanted to be the best. All my life I have wanted to surpass you and everyone around me. But you. I will let that go for you. I let it go in my mind for so long now and I have never wanted to admit it. Is it even possible? Is it even possible for me to catch up to you? Is it even possible for me to stay by your side. I can’t be that anymore. I am sacrificing even that now. I will never be number one now. I will never become the person I always dreamed to be. I will never surpass you. I am forever sacrificing that now. I will die here.  

But can I still be with you?

The sacrifice of his life is him fully relinquishing everything he is, admitting that he can’t keep up, losing all of the progress he has made, letting go of everything that made up his character.

And the last thing on his mind is if he can still be able to be by Midoriya’s side.

He won’t let him go again. 

[messiahzzz]

while it’s perfectly fine to have your own headcanons that are non-canon compliant — by all means, go wild. recognizing pieces of yourselves in fictional characters can be a very healing and validating experience. this is nonetheless a casual, well-intentioned reminder that gale, in fact, does not have bpd.

bpd is a pervasive pattern of instability affecting interpersonal relationships, self-image, and mood. the disorder is marked by impulsivity beginning in early adulthood and is present in a variety of contexts. a diagnosis requires at least 5 of the following 9 criteria to be met:

Fear of abandonment

Unstable or changing relationships

Unstable self-image; struggles with identity or sense of self

Impulsive or self-damaging behaviors (e.g., excessive spending, unsafe sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating).

Suicidal behavior or self-injury

Varied or random mood swings

Constant feelings of worthlessness or sadness

Problems with anger, including frequent loss of temper or physical fights

Stress-related paranoia or loss of contact with reality

source: [x]

i highlighted the criteria that do apply to gale in one way or another in a pretty purple.

i personally believe that it’s rather harmful to equate his relationship with mystra with her being “his fp”. she is a deity, his goddess, and the source of his powers, who is in in full control of the magic he wields.

gale: mystra commands all magic. salvation, if such a thing exists, is hers to bestow or withhold.

gale has been effectively groomed and conditioned to serve and revere her at every turn since early childhood. imo this comparison really undermines a lot of crucial points in gale’s story that deal with his overall trauma and abuse. after all, you wouldn’t call shar sh*dowhe*rt’s fp either.

gale doesn’t revile mystra, nor does he commit benevolent deeds solely motivated by the secret hope that she will somehow notice and take him back. when you meet gale in the game he has already fully come to terms with the fact that he has been abandoned by mystra with no hope of reconciliation whatsoever. he also had some very fitting lines in ea regarding this topic that i'm sad haven't been repurposed in the full release in some way.

gale: [the tadpoles] don't know that some things are impossible. they don't know that... they don't know. player: what is impossible about what you're being shown? gale: forgiveness. gale: it is mystra i see. and yet it cannot be her. there was a time when i would have believed - but no longer. gale: suffice it to say she would not bestow upon me the favors promised in these dreams. that is how i know they are delusions.

he has already reached the stage of acceptance. moreover, gale only starts to realize that mystra might have been in the wrong for requesting his death once the tadpole squad & tav speak some sense into him. and even then he doesn’t ever show that his emotions regarding mystra are anywhere along those lines. he is instead rightfully angered that she only saw value in his death, after he had been worshipping her loyally for years.

gale: i worshipped mystra loyally for years, and in that time she granted me the barest sliver of the power i was ready to wield. gale: even with the fate of the world at stake, she had little more to offer me than the means of blowing myself up at a more convenient time. she's done nothing to help us.

gale: you abandoned me in my hour of greatest need. i had no obligation to help you in yours. gale: because you had no right to ask that of me. you cast me out, remember?

gale doesn’t display rapid changes in mood either. he is a character who is generally very composed and has been known to remain nonchalant even in the face of utter horror. tim downie himself even commented on this once. source: [x]

the only instance i can think of is his sudden switch from resigned-to-death to utter-eye-sparkling-enthusiasm once he spots the crown of karsus. apart from crucial story reasons that i won’t touch upon in this post, i’d also like to add that it’s a rather common phenomenon for people who have just barely survived a suicide attempt to suddenly be filled with zeal and unbridled energy. he doesn't display impulsivity without thorough consideration when it comes to its acquisition either. he considers this a golden opportunity and is positively enthusiastic and elated that this might prove an alternative to him ending up in a cloud of netherese smoke. nonetheless, he knows what he is doing. evident in him actually succeeding in ascending in one of his endings.

gale: this is no passing whim, trust me. if i can obtain that crown, it will affect us all. it is not a decision i'll take lightly. gale: it's our future that i'm thinking of - we can't rely on anyone else to do it for us. gale: for now - we've learned all we can.

neither are his relationships that we do know of (namely elminster, tara, and morena) frequently changing. they are marked by years of mutual respect, care, and consistency. there is nothing unstable about them. while it's important to note that his relationship with tav is still in its honeymoon stages during the main game, there is no inclination of any push-and-pull dynamic between them whatsoever.

gale isn’t preoccupied with keeping up some sort of benevolent act in order to win (back) affection — he genuinely IS a good person and he proves this at every turn. moreover, to have a tressym become your familiar you must be of Good alignment.

(taken from tumblr user galedekarios's post.)

there is never a moment where his ideals or alignment suddenly change. in fact, i’d argue that he and wyll are most consistent in this regard when compared to the rest of the companions. gale makes his moral standpoint very clear from the beginning on and also explicitly states that he believes that in order to survive this entire ordeal it would be selfish of him if he wouldn’t be willing to compromise on his morals. this isn’t a sudden bout of ✨muahahaha wizard hubris✨ that he barely contained to hold in before, this is yet another act of selflessness — it is what he’s willing to do for the group and subsequently, the welfare of faerun.

player: i love unsavoury things. don't feel guilty on my account. gale: that's good to know. although i should say i do what i do out of a sense of utility and pragmatism, not a love of the unsavoury. gale: we're up against the greatest threat faerun has ever faced. i don't mind getting my hands dirty if it gives us a better chance of surviving. gale: whatever advantage i can gain for us. i will. and i refuse to feel guilty for it, no matter how much mystra's chidings might echo in my skull.

this is him, once again trying to be useful in whatever way he can. to give them an advantage, a slither of hope against seemingly impossible odds, so they might make it out of this in one piece. gale wouldn’t approve of those actions under normal circumstances, but their predicament is as far from any definition of “normal” as it can get.

gale is no fool, he realizes this is essentially about survival. he knows that he has no option left other than to tolerate, which is why he can be convinced to not immediately depart tav’s company even if they choose to commit atrocities. this is no character flaw of his or him displaying a previously dormant openness for cruelty, this is about recognizing the necessity.

player: you don't stand a chance alone. you're free to go. i dare you. gale: gods damn you - you're right. few things are more powerful than the will to live.

gale: i thought the orb to be the greatest of my sins, but i see now that there are darker depths to which i might yet sink. you may be content to sink into that abyss, but i assure you - i am not.

gale doesn’t lead a split existence. he has a very strong sense of identity. he knows what he wants, what he doesn’t want and he isn’t shy in expressing his boundaries either. which he has especially shown when it comes to his relationship with tav. i originally had intended to touch upon this in another post entirely but: i firmly believe his entire Gale of Waterdeep™ persona is more of a performance than him struggling to find a sense of identity and trying them on for size. it is an intentional decision to separate gale dekarios from the great wizard of waterdeep, to create distance and make sure his family name remains untarnished in case things should ever go sideways.

gale: i agree. and on the plus side, if i get myself into any truly cataclysmic straits during the remainder of our journey, my family name will go untarnished.

there is also a deep-rooted feeling of unworthiness and his firm belief that love and praise are conditional resources that he will only be granted through his talents alone, naturally. presenting himself as gale dekarios, the man, would mean highlighting his shortcomings and very human flaws, while distracting from the aspects of himself that are deemed praiseworthy, the ones that actually matter: his magical prowess.

i personally believe that part of the beauty of gale’s story is him realizing just how “little” it takes for him to be truly content. he gets his happy ending, with someone at his side who truly sees him, understands him and unabashedly commits to him. they worship and adore him in return — and it is well deserved. he isn’t reduced to be constantly and restlessly searching for some unattainable ideal to fill the gaping void within himself. he doesn’t secretly thirst for more power still or believes that in being with tav he is settling for something. instead, he is finally happy to just be. be and be accepted. teaching a class of unruly wizards and coming home to his spouse each day already fulfills him.

gale: that's how i feel with you - content. it's a rather unfamiliar feeling, i must say. not something gale of waterdeep ever craved.

even if he doesn’t pursue a romance with tav, he reaches a realization of “oh, it appears i am not irredeemably flawed and only able to reach true redemption through my own death. what i needed was actually with me all along.” throughout their journey and through his friend's support. i think that’s a very powerful and comforting message. he is very well capable of finding peace within himself.

devnotes: his default state is that he returned to waterdeep and became a professor of illusory magic at his former school, blackstaff academy. general vibe here is that this is a gale who's found peace with himself - he's a great teacher, one his students are mostly in awe of.

to repeat myself: sharing your headcanons is all in good fun, nor should you ever be discouraged from doing so. this is your personal tumblr experience, after all. but i personally think we should be mindful of unintentionally perpetuating negative stereotypes, such as narcissism being a general indicator or being deemed a classic depiction of bpd. i think we can all agree that the continuous longing for acceptance, connection, praise, and approval is something we all have in common deep down, regardless of whatever disorder we may have. [insert victoria justice meme here]

gale may be many things to many people, but he is no entitled narcissist.

[lunalikestowriteanddraw]

Can I just take a moment to praise OUAW (and the LOA cast as a whole), and their subtle yet VERY effective method of storytelling?

(Spoilers for OUAW below the cut)

For starters; the mix of comedy and gut-punch, and how they usually lure the audience into a false sense of security using humor, before hitting them with a really dark and angsty moment/episode, and then jumping right back into comedy to cut the tension.

Don’t believe me? Fuck, listen to episode fucking ONE, which inadvertently introduces this whole method that the continue to do for the rest of the campaign (and maybe others, im not entirely sure, but I’ve noticed this same method for Icebound, but almost in the reverse). The whole episode is full of jokes and antics, before hitting us with the (really depressing) death of a fairy at the end of the episode, immediately turning the mood around. And then the following 15 EPISODES were just a whole lot of fun and chaos.

Jokes and antics > depressing moment > more jokes and antics

Or how about episodes 41 and 42? They were joking around and doing their usual antics, before tensions rose with the death of Twig and everything afterwards, and then in episode 43 they spent the first hour as dancing singing mushrooms

Humor > angst > humor

Or episode 46? The first two thirds of the episode, the party were turned into toys and it was just…absolute chaos. Before they all got killed by the Jabberwock

However, I also noticed that episode 47 onward, this changed. Dont get me wrong, they still joke around and do their usual antics, but it seemed like it stopped being as a way to try and shrug off what just happened. Though, I guess this could partially be because of the circumstances, all things considered. Though I’m interested to see where season 2 takes us with this.

Also; character arcs. Or perhaps the lack thereof? I’m honestly not sure, to be honest.

There has been a change in these characters throughout the campaign thus far, don’t get me wrong. But these changes have been so incredibly subtle that you won’t even notice that they are going through a character arc unless you’re specifically looking for it.

Like how Torbek has been growing more confident—both in general and in his abilities; or how Gricko has been slowly shedding his “comic relief” exterior to show just WHY he’s a valued member of the party (other than his ability to heal); and fuck, I’ve even noticed a bit of a change in Kremy and Gideon (tho I can’t quite place what that character arc is, or when it started, but there IS a character arc happening here)

And like, I’m generally pretty good at picking up subtleties like this from media (in fact, most of my fics and character studies/analysis require this), but somehow OUAW managed to make their character arcs so subtle that I completely missed that there even WAS a character arc even happening until it suddenly reared its head (again, like with Torbek and Gricko)

It’s so subtle yet so effective and I just…agh! I can’t wholly verbally express how much I love the storytelling and character development in OUAW, it’s so good

[bizabumblebee]

tell us about yunobo

why's he ur funky lil guy

id love to hear why

This is a very good ask I don’t think I’ve ever actually told anyone why I like Yunobo so much

Preemptive spoiler alert for both Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom by the way

(Also this turned into a bit of a character analysis on Yunobo I’m so sorry it’s so ridiculously long lmao)

Personally my favorite Zelda “race” or whatever has always been gorons, huge fellas who mine rocks and eat rocks and are rocks, just big ol walking boulders with kind souls, I think they’re very silly and cute. But I really like Yunobo because he’s not really like any of the other gorons (He’s not like other girls!!), because he’s so much more… emotional? I guess? In each of the Goron race’s appearances throughout the Zelda games they’re portrayed pretty much the same way, either tough and brave and heroic (Like Darunia, Daruk and Darmani), or chill and generally nonchalant (Like… pretty much every other goron). Though they are kind and playful, they’re also tough and unmoving as stone. Yunobo (on a surface level), is neither of these things. When you first meet him in BotW he runs and yelps in fear, and a great portion of the fan base calls him a coward because of this. He’s very unsure of himself, and unsure of a lot of things in general. In the artbook “Creating a Champion”, his description is as follows:

“Yunobo is the grandchild of the Champion Daruk. He has an adult body but still has some growing up to do. He is easily frightened by monsters and isn't exactly what one might call brave, but, driven by thoughts of protecting his people, he gathers enough courage to aid Link in quelling the Divine Beast Vah Rudania. He is earnest and naive, readily believing nearly anything anyone tells him.”

So yeah. He’s a scaredy-cat. He’s a pushover. He’s incredibly naive and a bit childish.

AND YET.

He helped save his people, and the entirety of Hyrule… TWICE. Because he is brave. Bravery is not an immediate heroic desire to face any danger for the sake of the greater good.

It is action in spite of fear.

He is afraid. He’s unsure, and he’s flighty, and he’s defensive. But he swallows these fears and chooses to act in spite of them, helping link to take back control of Vah Rudania, and saving his people. For me, seeing the journey Yunobo takes to find his courage is a lot more satisfying than if he were just already a brave go-getter from the moment you meet him.

And then things get even more interesting in the second game (again, spoilers for TotK ahead).

After he helps Link take back Vah Rudania and Calamity Ganon is defeated, Yunobo goes right to helping his people recover from the the post-calamity craziness. He’s incredibly devoted to them. He’s a helper through and through, willing to do anything it takes for the sake of others. His loyalty knows absolutely no bounds. But unfortunately, this can get the better of him.

Like when his good friend “Zelda” shows up and gives him some weird mask and tells him to put it on.

Honestly, when I saw Yunobo for the first time in TotK, I was one of the many people who was terrified that Nintendo might have made him an asshole for no reason. I mean, they gave Sidon a wife so people would stop shipping him with Link, I wouldn’t put it past them (totally backfired though lol, now they’re just a polycule).

But instead they had actually put him into one of my favorite character tropes: self-conscious but good-natured character easily susceptible to corruption (See: Luigi [SPM], Bolin [TLoK], Locksley [AS:TNC] -they’re all also green for some reason? Crazy). I really like this particular trope because it shows the very real (and frankly scary) way that those with the best intentions can most easily be led astray. As someone who’s kinda struggled with having a people-pleaser personality (incredibly susceptible to peer-pressure, neglecting my own needs over the needs of others, not able to set boundaries, etc), this trope is a relatable cautionary tale for me. Those who just want to help more often than not end up helping those with bad intentions without realizing.

Buuuuut I won’t go too far into all that (it’ll get sad fast eugh)

My main point is that Yunobo is brave, kind, and loyal (even to a fault), and for me that’s a wonderful formula for a character as nervous and dopey as him. Yeah he’s got rocks for brains, but he’s got a heart as big as a lynel’s. I don’t throw this term around liberally but I would say he could definitely count as a himbo.

Ugggghhh this is getting too long ffs. I’ll just list a couple more reasons why he’s important to me specifically.

He is… very large. Ahem. I like big fellas. You know how it is. ANYWAY

He’s a bit dopey but he’s definitely not incompetent. He’s the president of a highly successful mining company and he’s helped save Goron City (and the entirety of Hyrule) TWICE. That’s pretty cool. I’ve seen a lot of people shit on him in the first game for “always getting spotted by the drones” but like. Dude that’s your fault. He told you he would come when called and stop when told to, it’s on you if he walks into a searchlight.

He’s got very intriguing lore (to me at least), that leaves a lot of room for speculation. Like, he’s the “grandson” of Daruk, but how does that work?? Gorons are born from the mountain itself, they don’t give birth. There’s a pair of Gorons in TotK that call themselves “brothers” (still a bit confusing since most gorons throughout the series call each other brother anyway), but they explain it was because they were born in the same cave at the same time, so they’re like family. Does this mean Yunobo was just born in the same cave Daruk was, and therefore inherited his “genes” and his magical abilities? Maybe! Maybe it’s a really cool special cave, right at the summit or something, where his whole lineage was born all the way back to the first sage of fire. Cool stuff to think about!

He’s not the leader of his people, in either game. That job belongs to Bludo. In the second game he’s definitely got a lot more influence and does occupy a position of leadership, but he’s not the chief. He’s just some Goron. The role of aiding link in both games is thrust onto him entirely because of his lineage. But he takes responsibility for it. He understands the power he holds, both as a champion’s descendant and as the Sage of Fire, and he steps up to the role. He feels a responsibility to his people and his city, even despite not being its official leader like the other champion’s descendants. That’s pretty cool.

He’s very sweet! I’ve talked about how kind and caring he is already but there’s a difference between doing it with a stoic sense of heroism or duty, and doing it with a big dopey grin and a genuine care for those he cares about. He’s often unsure and self-conscious, and yet he’s surprisingly optimistic about most things a lot of the time. He has a big smile (most gorons do), but he has an absolutely heart-melting laugh. I often tear up during the cutscene in which he sees the spirit of Daruk reclaiming Vah Rudania, him laughing and waving with such genuine joy and excitement, aghhhh it’s too much. Joe Hernandez certainly did a great job putting authenticity into Yunobo’s (and Daruk’s) emotions, this cutscene especially.

He has the best secret stone ability (gameplay wise). You cannot change my mind. Tulin is great for mobility and the other two are fine for tactical combat stuff, but none of them even come close to the versatility and power of Yunobo. Don’t have any good rock-breaking weapons and don’t want to use up bombs or zonai devices? Yunobo! Using a control stick-operated machine and can’t pull out your bow to snipe that pesky aerocuda? Yunobo! Wanna separate a big group of enemies from each other without wasting bombs? Yunobo! And don’t even get me started on the fact that when he’s on a vehicle, he’s got zero cooldown. You can hop on a hoverboard and decimate a molduga just by dribbling Yunobo on its head like a basketball.

All this being said I certainly think Yunobo is too often overlooked by fans for “being a coward”, or just… being a Goron? Gorons in general have often been a bit neglected in favor of the other more serious, conventionally attractive and *cough* slimmer *cough* Zelda races. It’s a bit disheartening seeing the amount of fan artists who don’t even have a clue how to approach drawing Yunobo or Daruk, simply because they don’t know how to draw bulky, fat or muscled characters. But I won’t preach too much on the subject, haha.

Long story short, I love Yunobo a whole lot and I’d love to give him a big hug and a smooch. That’s about it :))))

Also here’s a little sketch I made of him as a bonus for reading all that haha

[presidentbungus]

in a similar vein to my last post i very much think demo’d be so good with kids. i don’t know if he’d be a good dad necessarily with all that emotional baggage and undoubtedly enough generational trauma to permanently ruin a toddler within seconds but he’d be a great uncle, godfather, weird neighbor, etc.

consider with me here. uncle tavish with the eyepatch and the peg-leg. he looks scary but he tells great stories about wizards and wars and explosions and he leaves in all the gory bits. he’ll show you how to make a pretty good firework out of the cleaning stuff your mum’s got lying around the house as long as you won’t tell on him. he’ll help you pull pranks on your adult relatives and he’ll take the blame for them. he’ll let you sip on his beer and scrumpy if you swear up and down you’re grown-up enough and when you hiss and stick your tongue out at the alcohol he’ll tell you that means you’re probably more mature than him. he doesn’t seem that rich but he’ll buy you a dirtbike or a pony or a whole set of expensive action figures for your birthday and he won’t even act like it’s a big deal. there’s something so simply enjoyable to him about kids (kids that aren’t his), so kicking with wonder and fierce excitement about the world, and he does whatever he can to give them what he never got—the push to run around and discover and do what they want, and to spit and curse and play-swordfight in the backyard and everything else all the adults in his life never really let him do. really, under it all, at the end of the day he’s got the big dumb heart of an absolute bloody sap and he knows it, and it’s almost relieving to know he’s still got it after all these years. you know? it works out

[jounosparticles]

you’re telling me tetchou is the only person that sees that jouno is one who protects the weak? you’re telling me tetchou was willing to put saving the world from the vampire pandemic aside in order to protect jouno because he knows jouno is good and wants him to be safe before anything? you’re telling me tetchou sees through the cold exterior jouno puts up and will defend him against anyone? you’re telling me that tetchou put his extremely strong sense of justice, which is one of the core parts of his personality, aside to save jouno?

tetchou is the only person that looks past everything and sees a good person in jouno. he is willing to look past everything for him. i genuinely believe they’re soulmates that were destined to meet; tetchou can be the one to assure jouno that he’s a good person despite the fact he was only made a hunting dog to be fukuchi’s pawn.

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂���️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[tedzyrotten]

it is so intensely interesting to me to watch people’s reactions to sleep token because i feel as though the journey differs based on what you listened to first

[kinnbig]

oh my god, tell us more (about the arm tankhun fake dating fic in your head), please! :D

OKAY so the concept is. about 6 months post-canon, the main and minor families are invited to the destination wedding of one of their allies from a hugely powerful mafia family - it's a few nights staying on a private tropical island, and as a respect/trust/hospitality thing, it would be considered really inappropriate for guests to bring more than one or two bodyguards per group.

so Tankhun is like “well then obviously I can’t go?” because while he is now much better at leaving the house, he’s not quite ‘get on a plane and fly to a random island for several days of intense socialisation with incredibly dangerous near-strangers without a single Trusted Bodyguard’ levels of better.

he’s talking to Chay about it and Chay's like “yeah, it's kind of fucked up that everyone gets a +1 but not a bodyguard. how would anyone even know if your +1 was your bodyguard?!” and Tankhun's like “.....Chay you're a genius. Arm, I need you to be my wedding date.”

commence the fake dating shenanigans! they ‘reveal’ their secret, long-term relationship to the entire family, and then they’ve got to pretend to be a couple in front of everyone while Arm actually works as Tankhun’s bodyguard. as the only other person who knows their relationship isn’t real, Chay is helping to mastermind the entire operation. what Chay also knows is that Khun does actually have very real and Not Fake feelings for Arm - and you can be sure he’s going to be a menace about it.

luckily, Khun is being just as much of a menace in return - the wedding is the first time Kim and Chay have been in the same room since… well, everything, and Tankhun has watched them both silently pine for each other for long enough. background KimChay reconciliation era my beloved!

and so the usual fake dating antics ensue! lots of pining… plenty of acting out intimacy while wishing it was genuine… Chay putting them in so many Situations… lines slowly blurring between what is part of the act and what is real… and. obviously. there was only one bed.

🥰 thank u so much for indulging me, i love talking about blorbos from my shows and my silly story ideas for them! i came up with this with @aikinn and @thewholedamnboulangerie during some kind of group astral plane projection, which makes it especially delicious as they always have the best and most objectively correct Tankhun takes 💪

my brain is currently on 24/7 armtankhun lockdown soooo if u have thoughts about Them… pls… i would like to eat them…

[solar-halos]

so are we just going to keep ignoring how blond people don’t fucking exist

[nocentis]

Black Arum ┆ Siegrain

Content warning: main character death, cannibalism, gore, toxic/unreliable narrator, highly canon divergent character portrayal. Read at your own risk. You will probably take psychic damage from this.

╳┆A lure was stuck in the soot between his lungs. Many times he'd felt the tug — enough that the wire fray had worn a rut where his ribs met — and many times he'd found her on the other end, reeling for remnants of him that no longer existed. She would aim to break him open, sift around in the cinders for those specks of him she wanted to confiscate, keep for herself, so that she could finally be rid of him. Once those flecks were washed and panned, the remains would reek like plough mud closure. For that reason he would come to her whole, every whit of ash accounted for.

A cherry little game they'd play. Her with flint and steel, eager to reignite that paltry spark of "good" that flickered freely for a lapse before he remembered himself. Him with tinder and kindling, letting it light only to call on the rain again. Her with just enough hope. Him with just enough time.

That resolve was so very compelling. More than her beauty, her candor, and even that glow he so loved to bask in — that luster he wanted to hold between his teeth and bury under his nails — more than that, her tenacity was a toothsome temptation, and he wasn't keen to deny himself anything.

So when he felt the pull, he caved to the beck and spooled the lisle. That day, the line seemed lighter, thinner, than it ever had. It should've been strong. Tensile. Instead it felt gossamer fine and just as frail, poised to tear at an ill touch, and he wasn’t exactly renowned for his gentle hands. Still, he gathered it with both palms and wrapped it proudly around himself like a ceremonial sash, grin scrawled across his face something devilish.

╳┆He found her lying in the shade beneath a long-lived magnolia, still and silent as she never was, with the color of her namesake spread around her head in halo streaks. Battle-torn, as she so often was, and yet uncannily... passive.

Anything he'd planned to say went out the airlock. Instead, he stood there with an anchor in his stomach, reaping the benefit of doubt.

Not a frown nor a sigh when he darkened her sanctum, only heavenward eyes tearless and unblinking and a resigned breath just short of peaceful. That worn tether waned phantom thin, light as helium, and the tension in his chest went slack.

There was no definite snap. No dramatic severing or ear-popping moment of clarity. Only the vague sense of loss so fresh a wound that denial was a numbing salve.

“Get up,” his voice a command, sandgrit against whetstone, thickened by an unnamed antigen.

The silence felt like mockery. A placid scene void of chittering fauna, clouds' drum, or even the most timid breeze. It wanted him to hear the absence of her breath and the stillness of her chest. It wanted him to hear the hollow. The empty. The nothing. Wanted it to resonate; to find the furthest reaches of his mind and clean them out until all that was left was this icy, clarifying silence.

He knew the end when he saw it. This was something much worse. It was robbery.

Her life wasn’t for the world to take. It was for him to hold in his hands. 

Something wet and pathetic slicked his tongue — some whiny, pleading thing — and it was stubborn as oil. The authority slid to the back of his throat and left him choking, “You are the indomitable Titania. You’ve laced fingers with Death time and again only to rise and slay and conquer, so get up.”

Her warmth was set to a slow drip, spilling from her in tired beads and seeping soundlessly into her chosen ground. Little whispers of her lost to greedy loam, sullied, never to be returned.

A waste of precious love. The sod won’t drink of her as he will. It will take of her and give back what? New “life” so fragile and fleeting? A feeble weed will take root, bloom its days few, and curl itself inside out? Pathetic. An insult to her legacy. An insult to the diamond-split sharp of her bladesoul.

His heart boiled over — popping, sticking, simmering sicksweet saccharine. It colored him cloying, flooded his mouth, and forced him to kneel at her altar.

"Please," he keened, hollow and morose, and his own pleading sickened him, “Say something.”

The sun trickled through the leaves like ichor, lighting up her black-blown eyes and the thin ring of honey surrounding them. Dim, distant, and dead as the moon.

His hand carved a path to her face, fingers featherlight against her fading flush. He brushed her bangs from her eyes and forced an unbroken breath through his quavering mouth. He traced each scar too faint to see and the parts of her skin their star kissed. Memorized the map of her face — each curve and crease, each fine hair, and every eyelash. He would carve out a space in his mind in her shape and fill it with the thousand sweet nothings he kept in his pockets.

He gathered her hand and threaded it with his own. When he opened his mouth, a rickety twine escaped from the deepest point of his chest, so he forced his jaws shut to keep the grief corked. He uncurled her fingers and pressed his cheek into her palm, trapping her there against his own scarred skin. His eyes fell shut as he breathed in this borrowed touch — this moment fated, stolen from him by this world's insatiable avarice.

He kissed her palm directly in the center; held it against his mouth and felt his own ruined breath echo back to him from the deepest grooves of her skin. Again, he begged, “Please, Erza.”

Of the armors innumerable now haunting this hallowed ground, this one least befit her. 

He revered Death. If there was a god, surely it was Death, he thought, for Death asks for nothing but life. The dead don’t know that they’re dead. They know a split second of euphoria and then a sharp, definite end. Isn’t that the work of a gracious god? One last stroke of color whether in peace or peril, and then eternal rest. Back to the dust you sprouted from.

But now he couldn’t see any of that beauty he often waxed poetic about. All he could see was change yet to come. All he could see was her, and he wanted her back.

He wanted her back, yet he knew better than anyone that there was no such thing as resurrection. While Death might be gracious, it was not generous, and it was not to be reasoned with.

The thought of her buried deep, bathed by the dark and abandoned to rot — it washed his mouth acid sour. It ate straight through his tongue and lingered in the roots of his teeth, burning, raging redhot in his jaws’ marrow.  A grave didn't suit her anymore than a pyre.

Soon she would be cold. Stiff. A feast for flies and their insatiable young. In the days to come, she would bubble and bloat and sallow. Her skin would loosen and slough off. The sun would bleach her bones. The meat of her would melt into oil and fat and bogspit. She would mix in with the soil, the groundwater, and this thankless magnolia would thrive.

It was tall, thick, with branches spread in all directions. The lowest of its limbs showed off the varied deep greens of its large waxy leaves, their undersides a chalky brown. A few white flowers bloomed, palm-shaped petals open in praise like they'd come to witness and worship. There was no question why she'd chosen to crawl here. It must've reminded her of home.

Despite its beauty, it was hardly worthy of her. Nothing in this ravenous world was. Her grave should be carved within his chest. There, he could keep her warm. He could host her in his veins. One day, they would wade the waters of woe together. Until then she could live under his skin.

He wouldn’t allow her to spoil. Wouldn’t place her gently into time’s whittlesome hands only to lose her peel by peel by rotting peel.

This world has taken much from you. Do not allow it to take her too.

A carnal ache etched itself into bone, a depth of passion he hadn't felt since he wrought for a false Heaven.

She is a fruit, ripe as a plum and twice the taste. Peel her open. There is a seed at her core. Plant it in your soot-field chest and watch her bloom anew.

What are these hands for if not this?

Flesh like sheets of silk. Muscle like rope. Blood like honey. Bone like an ivory trove. The splitting, the squelching, the straining, ripping, snapping; it burrowed marrow-deep and lingered there. Her chest peeled apart like jagged teeth, jaws croaking their rusted tune, and inside that redslick maw was the center of the universe.

The heart upon its throne, still as she, shielded by her precious lungs. It slid into his palm like it was always meant to be there. Raw, rich, and so very scarlet. Its sinews strained against his pull — those hollow vines that fed even the furthest parts of her — so he wrenched them free and draped himself in them like matchless finery.

Eat. Eat ‘til you’re sick. There’s a hole the size of her in the pit of your stomach. Eat until you fill it. 

What are these teeth for if not this?

Tough as leather; smooth as rubber. His teeth slid right off the rind and clicked together with nothing but metallic sheen between them. He gnashed at that ink-dripping muscle until he found a spot weak enough to tear apart. It tasted of rare meat and iron; a heady gore thick enough to drown in. He swallowed, gasped, and that first new breath felt like a blade.

The child inside him saw her split-open ribs as his cradle. He wanted to crawl inside, curl up, and die. He wanted to paint himself her color.

He lost his vision to the hot, angry wash. His own sobs were a distant sound, muffled by meat and blood and his own desperate fingers. He was numb in the mouth and in the shake of his hands, but he forced himself to eat, eat despite the choking, the gagging, the wet, weeping remorse.

Don’t you dare throw her up. Be grateful. Swallow and say thank you and finish what you’ve started.

He bit into his own palm, indistinguishable from her core, and he cried out in sour relief. His hands spread raw grief over his face, through his hair, and down his neck.

You’re no better than this starving world.

He curled into himself, hands clutching his own aching chest, and despite the cloudless sky, he called upon the rain.

[mudsbray]

i wish i could draw again. It’s strange to loose what i loved for my whole life