#Idk I hope I'm allowed to rant | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aimfor-theheart · 1 month ago

Text

to break first

|| mel medarda x reader, jayce talis x reader, viktor x reader || E/18+ || messy dynamics/hurt/comfort || wc: 6k || ao3 ||

minors and ageless blogs dni, 18+

Your lovers are strange, demanding types.

a/n: idk man. but this revived my writing so. pls take it. dividers by @/cafekitsune

tags: messy dynamics, light smut/smut mentioned and implied, implied rough/hate sex, some hurt/comfort, ends on a hopeful note. not beta read/edited.

You've never liked Jayce much.

And you might just be the only person he doesn't like, either.

He plays nice, though, especially around Viktor. You think Jayce has teeth that he tries to hide, but you catch the flash of them from time to time. He smiles at you and it doesn't reach his eyes. It's just shy of contempt.

It makes your grin cheshire and sharp. You like watching him squirm. You like watching him wrestle with his distaste for you, try to keep his teeth hidden. Especially here, at this gala, all gold and sparkling and pristine, for all the world to see.

Bubbling rosé is bright and fruity on your tongue. You're shoulder to shoulder with Viktor, the two of you half-miserable together, stuffed into formal wear and ripped from your respective labs and studios. Which is why Jayce lingers; he's hovering in that annoying way of his. Bumbling a little. He's trying to make Viktor feel more at home but—

You have something Jayce doesn't.

Only you can do that.

You're Viktor's childhood friend, thick as thieves and twice as inseparable. You're an artist from the Undercity—a painter, a poet, a musician. An artistic genius, the world claims, an artistic savant. And one of the rare, lucky few who has been exalted and raised above your station to be paraded around Piltover like some trophy of success from their lowest. It's mostly Viktor's fault, you claim—the moment Heimerdinger found him, he also accidentally found you.

"Ah, if it isn't one of the most brilliant and groundbreaking artists of our generation." A smooth, easy voice floats through your thoughts. You turn your head to find Councilor Medarda, swathed in what could be a starry sky of silk and gold.

She's even more beautiful in person somehow; if you were to paint her, she'd be all easy, graceful lines, curved and long. A lily stem. The arch of a tiger.

"Just the person I was looking for." She muses.

"Me?" You balk, at the same time that Jayce gaps, "Them?!"

You swing your gaze to glare at him and even Viktor wrinkles his nose. Jayce tries to clear his throat, clear the mistake.

Councilor Medarda raises a brow at Jayce, but then her eyes flicker to you, honing in on you. Hazel and gold and reflective; a kaleidoscope of color. And with such—intensity. You feel it in her. Thrumming. "Yes, you." She says smoothly and she smiles in the elegant way of royalty; perfect and mysterious.

"Are you sure you have the right person, Councilor Medarda?" You joke, "you know I'm just—"

"I'm certain. And please—call me Mel. I'd love to commission you for several art pieces to be displayed in the council chambers."

Viktor whistles a little, impressed, though you can tell it's a little dry.

(He both rambles and rants about Councilor Medarda from time to time and you can never tell if he adores her or resents her.)

Jayce startles at this, but again, he tries to play it off. He places his hand on her lower back, "I didn't know the council chambers was looking to display art."

Mel allows his hand to remain, but she tilts her chin up and her eyes flash somewhat—quick, sharp. There's a silent conversation there that you can't decipher.

But you can tell there is something more than just coworkers happening between them.

"I'm looking to display art in the council chambers." Mel then says.

Jayce looks away, cowed somewhat, tail tucked between his legs in a way that makes you smile.

Mel drifts from Jayce's hands, offering her arm to you, "will you walk with me? I'd love to discuss what I have in mind."

If only to steal her away from Jayce, you finally peel yourself away from Viktor's side and the wall. Your shoulder, where it was touching his, goes cold. But Mel's arm is warm as you twine it around yours.

She draws you away from the scientists, into the fray of swirling, dazzling people.

You glance over your shoulder only once and catch Jayce's eyes, and let your smile curl into something a little smug, almost vicious; baring your teeth as if to gloat at his own, still tucked behind his lips.

***

"Mel's an artist." You say to Viktor, offhand. "A good one, too. You should see her paintings—"

Viktor sighs heavily, snatching one of the little tools that you'd been fiddling with out of your hands. "You sound like Jayce."

You wrinkle your face in disgust, reaching back for the tool and grappling with him a moment for it. You press all against each other, squabbling, before you win out and take it back from him. He stares at you, almost in some form of a glare and you stare back, watching his eyes, dark in the low light of the lab. He glances at the tool in your hands like he might try to take it back, and when he moves, you move faster, and hold it out of his reach.

"Are they together?" You ask.

He gives up on the tool.

Then, he lifts his shoulders in some form of a crooked shrug, eyes going skyward. "One can only assume."

"She's out of his league." You sigh, throwing your weight back in the chair in despair.

Viktor snorts at that, returning to his work, "I'm sure few are in league with Councilor Medarda."

His voice is dry. A little brittle.

"I don't know what you have against her." You then venture, speaking more to the ceiling, returning to fiddling with the tool. It twists in your fingers, the sound of metal whirling and softly grinding.

"I have nothing against Councilor Medarda." He says too evenly.

"You know, I've never been able to tell if it's contempt or adoration you have for her." You continue, as if he hadn't said anything to contradict you. "But either way, she gets under your skin."

"She does not—"

"Are you jealous? She took your big, dumb partner away?" You press, twisting and twisting away at the tool.

"No—" Viktor says sharply, but it rings with a note of truth. It's not quite that then.

You pause. And then.

You crack your eye open, "I think she likes me."

Viktor pauses now too, metal clinking quietly with the sudden stop of his work again. He knows that tone of your voice. His face pulls; distaste. Frustration.

(Jealousy.)

His speech is slow as he tries to parse through what to say, "Councilor Medarda is charming and—"

"She invited me to dinner." You say and now you're watching him carefully, "at her personal suite. Just us."

Viktor rounds on you, "you're going to get yourself into trouble."

You can't help but smile, slow and amused, "I feel like it's good for the art—fool around with a politician—"

"You know, I have always wondered if you would learn your lesson," Viktor continues over your monologuing about drama and passion and politics, "—maybe this time, you'll finally learn it."

He snatches the tool from your hands and throws it down on his desk.

"I love learning." You chirp innocently and he shakes his head, face flushed with passion.

He looks at you again when he can, shakes his head some more, some of the irritation fading from his features. He never stays mad at you for long; doesn't have it in him. Besides, he causes his own trouble. Doesn't learn his own lessons. And when the dust settles, the two of you are still here, beside each other. The artist and the scientist, making messes, breaking things—all for some higher purpose only the two of you have ever understood.

(You've loved him your whole life. Sometimes, you think you carry half of the other's ribs inside one another. He must have twelve of yours, and you must have twelve of his—)

You lift your foot, nudging his calf beneath the desk with it, then up to place it in his lap. An olive branch, of some kind. Your affection is unsurprising to him and he sighs. He drops his hand to your ankle. He squeezes.

"She's going to eat you alive." Viktor finally warns.

"One can only hope."

A laugh startles out of him, rough and raspy, before it dissolves into coughing.

You lurch up to give him water, sitting near you, and bring the glass to his lips on reflex, like you used to as children. And on reflex, he drinks—he doesn't try to take the glass from your hands right away or push you away. Instinctively, you care for him, and instinctively, he lets you.

(You think you're the only one he'd ever allow to do this, born out of years of pressed side to side in the same bed, listening to him weather the nights. Born out of years of your love and stubborn care for him.)

After a moment, he lifts his hand and slowly replaces yours.

You hover over him. He sets the glass down. The water is almost gone. You'll replace it for him before you leave the lab.

He settles back into his chair, eyes returning to the pieces in front of him; all the odd metal scattered like little silver stars in front of him against a vast, dark sky. He picks up one, and then another, and tries to fit them together.

Then another. And another.

You watch him twist and turn, put the puzzle together.

He says, "Lately, I feel as if—" his fingers are careful, almost shaking, as he tries to create something of the scattered, broken pieces, "everything is quite fragile. And it's all just going to—" he presses a little too hard, and the metal all splinters apart, clattering back to the desk, "break. At any given moment."

After a moment, he looks up at you, still hovering over him, "I fear you're heading towards a breaking point."

You hum a little.

"What is it you scientists say?" You ask, running your fingers through his dark hair, thick and tousled. You twirl a strand around your finger, let it fall;

"It has to break first, before you can discover anything."

***

You'd say Mel Medarda is a wolf in sheep's clothing, but she doesn't feign anything so harmless or lost as a sheep.

You do think she's—

A little like Jayce, where she hides her teeth. But where Jayce irritates you because he's certainly trying to seem better than he is, or more harmless than he can be, Mel does so with intention. Mel hides her teeth to lure you closer. She doesn't pretend she doesn't have them; she waits until you're in range before you catch a glimpse of them.

And by then, well. It's too late.

You realize this over dinner, as she laments about what art she'd like from you and she's adamant about not censoring you.

(You're known for you controversy; whether in your physical art, your poetry, or music. Once pulled to the light of the Upper City, you refused to let them defang you. Where Jayce pretends he doesn't have teeth, you bare yours proudly, and sometimes wish you could tear the tender parts of Piltover open.

You strive to do it with your art. And while applauded in some vague capacity, you are also kept on a tight leash. Your patrons are warily supportive of you. Your commissions are strict. You're treated the way you think a wild animal is; with utmost care and fear and awe.)

In fact, her only rule for you, is to not hold back.

Which, given the growing tension between the Upper and Lower Cities, you realize this cannot only be from the goodness of her heart or for the integrity of art but—

You tilt your head and consider her.

"Am I a political move, Mel?"

She smiles in that enigmatic way of hers, her teeth flash, "isn't all art?"

You narrow your eyes, "perhaps. I wonder of it's effectiveness when it's employed by the people it often critiques." You lift your chin and pretend to be hurt—or perhaps, mask your hurt within dramatics to make it seem ironic, "and here I thought you really liked me—"

"I do." Mel assures, "I've admired you a great deal from afar. And getting to know you, your mind, it's—" she considers her words, "it's been nothing short of mesmerizing. Astonishing."

She sounds sincere. But you wonder if she always sounds that way.

She can tell she hasn't convinced you because you've never been able to mask your emotions well, so she leans forward and says, "unfortunately, everything I do is a political move, whether I'd like it to be or not. Both can be true—" she says, "I can adore you. And I can also need you to make a public point, wield you like my own elegant weapon."

"Artists make for disobedient weapons, usually." You say.

She laughs a little at that and agrees, "True." And then she lowers her voice, looks at you through the fan of her dark lashes in such a way that seizes you—arrests you, holds you right there, caught, in her heady gaze;

"But I don't need you to be obedient."

"I can never tell if you're trying to seduce me or persuade me." You blurt out, the words running from your mouth like a rabbit from a wolf. Your desire bursts from you like frightened birds taking to flight, like most of what you feel does, all of it spilling out of you in a gush of rawness.

She stands gracefully and again, you think of how you'd draw her—how you'd capture her in a poem or a song. The sharp curve of her waist, the predatory grace she carries effortlessly. You think her song is a croon from the deep part of your chest. You think her poem looks like an hourglass on the page and she slips from your fingers as easy as time does, too.

She rounds the small table to your side.

You look up at her. Your heart kicks up into a quick dance.

She brings the back of her knuckle to your jaw and gently—with all the carefulness in the world, strokes you.

(She touches you the way one does a bird, as if they know it's fragile. Perhaps as if they know it might fly away.

Or maybe she touches you the way one does an animal they're not sure of; will you bite? Will you lean into the touch?)

"Both can be true." She finally answers.

When she kisses you, it's fiercer than you're expecting; a lightning strike, a blow to the heart.

Your teeth come up against hers.

She gasps when you drag her further down to you, greedier than she's ever known, meeting her fierceness with your own, like the clashing of blades, or the destruction of stars.

And you think, if you don't want obedience, then I'll show you.

I'll show you.

***

"What are you playing at?"

Jayce's voice is a vicious little hush in the caverns of the council chambers. Mel has just left you after peaking over your shoulder to view the preliminary sketches.

You lift your head and blink up at Jayce slowly, dragging yourself from your sketch; from your world of art.

(It sets his teeth to grinding because Viktor makes that same look, when he's so deep into his work and Jayce disturbs him. It's a face he finds endearing on both of you, unfortunately. He imagines your minds are in heaven and he's selfish enough to drag you both back down to earth.)

"What do you mean? For the art piece?" You ask, glancing down at your lap, at the series of gestures and lines that you've been lost in. Maybe you're feigning innocence a little. But you want him to say it, if he's going to pick this fight.

Jayce's eyes flash like the too-hot part of the flame.

You have to bite back a smile.

Come on, you think wildly, say it. Let's fight. Here in the chambers, where you try so hard to be their golden boy.

"What are you trying to get out of Mel?" He asks and it makes you laugh outright, because he's dancing around what he really wants to ask.

Your laugh echoes in the hall, bouncing off all this marble and gold. It's out of place here, too loud, too free.

"The better question is what she's trying to get out of me." You say, "do you think I have it in me to manipulate the Mel Medarda?"

He goes quiet at that.

"Are you doing this to get back at me?" He asks after a moment and it's so close to what he wants to ask, so close to what he really wants to talk about.

"She kissed me first." You answer. "Have you had this conversation with her?"

You can tell by the shadow of uncertainty that passes over his face that he hasn't. You stand, easily setting your sketches and pencils aside, and drift nearer to him.

"Oh," you hum, "you didn't know. She didn't mention some plan of seduction to you? Maybe she really does like me."

He rounds on you so sharply that you are genuinely surprised. You gasp when your back hits the wall and he's got you caged in, a snarl on his lips and you finally get to see those teeth of his—

"You just always have to push me, don't you? In all the years I've known you, you've only ever tried to get under my skin. I tried so hard, for so long, for Viktor's sake to get along with you." He says lowly and distantly, you think, does he cage in Mel like this? With his big arms and broad chest? Or does she have him on a tight leash, underneath her?

"This time, I didn't mean it. Surely, you understand—" you say slyly, "when she comes onto you like that, all honey-voiced and half-lidded. She's hard to resist, isn't she?"

The grip he has on your biceps tightens to a point of pain—he'll bruise you. You'll be tender there, where his big hands gripped you, and it only makes you smile.

"Stop it." He snaps.

But you can't help yourself now, because once you've got something between your teeth, you've never been able to let it go;

"I just want to know if she kisses me the same way she kisses you? Does she play nice with you? She's quite fierce with me—"

When Jayce kisses you, it's a crush of aggression.

You laugh into his mouth wildly as he shoves you harder against the wall, teeth mean in the tender part of your bottom lip so that your laughter melts into a groan of pain. Of pleasure.

You claw at his back and wonder if Mel does, too.

You fight and hiss and snarl, show him your teeth when he sinks his into the fluttering pulse at your throat. You try to draw blood. You think he tries to bruise.

And well, you always wanted to see his teeth—

Just never thought you'd end up with a ring of their mark on your neck.

***

You're not really sleeping—nights are long. Days are longer. You're in the studio too much. This art piece is strangling you, wrestling with you and you're losing. Your lovers are strange, demanding types. Jayce comes to you at his lowest, and Mel at her highest. She licks the wounds Jayce leaves on you, purrs about how good you're being for her, goads you into putting up more of a fight that she likes to quell. She asks, have I stolen your bite? Are you going soft on me? Until you try to wrestle with her, too.

Mel subdues you the way snakes do—constricts and tightens and puts all that pressure on you until you just burst.

Until you go slack in her grip.

Jayce takes his anger out on you and he's not so cunning or delicate as her. You think Jayce struggles with you the way he must with his hammers, with high heat and all his strength.

Your art is starting to look like pieces of them; brutal and brilliant and cunning and beautiful. Tricky to capture, even more difficult to mesh together.

You're covered in paint when Viktor comes to visit you, frustrated with the canvas in front of you, which you think you'll end up scrapping again.

(This is the fourth one. You've been trying to fit all the components and pieces together but none of it's working, all of it's a mess. Splintered apart on the canvas. It looks like a disaster on the page.)

"Have you eaten?" Viktor asks as he comes to stand behind you. He gazes at the canvas n front of you.

You sigh heavily. "Have you?" You return.

He snorts at that, "No. I'm coming from the lab and thought I'd check on you—Mel mentioned you were here."

He pauses and then, "that you'd been here. For awhile now."

You hear the layers in his voice; the worry, but then the—

Irritation? Disdain?

"Are you asking me to dinner?" You say instead, dashing the canvas with a sudden great, horrible X. It's your meager attempt at some sort of joke or flirting, but your voice is perhaps too thin for it. You stare at your canvas, now dripping with that great X, the paint slipping down and marring it further.

When you turn to look at Viktor, he regards you warily. He glances at the canvas you've just ruined, and then back to your face.

He takes in your appearance; your disheveled hair and the paint all over your clothes and skin. And then his eyes skip down to your throat, to your arms. All marked up and bruised, unhidden and worn proudly here, in the safety of your art studio.

"Should I be concerned?" Viktor asks instead and you've always loved his bluntness. His lack of tact is like coming home. It's a relief, when you're constantly with Mel and Jayce lately, who talk in riddles and niceties and flowered language that hides their intentions or feelings.

There is a bitterness in Viktor's voice that you know well, too.

"About?" You prod.

"I'm no fool." Viktor answers, "I know you're sleeping with Councilor Medarda."

"Is that all you know?" You return, tilting your head.

"Is there more to know?" Viktor asks, eyeing you.

"Jayce hasn't said anything?"

You watch a strange shadow pass over Viktor's face as he slowly comes to the natural conclusion that you've lead him to. He's right, he is no fool. And then you watch his eyes catch fire, catch jealousy.

"I warned you—" he starts, suddenly.

"And I told you, it's good for the art—" You joke.

"Obviously it isn't!" He snaps, gesturing to the canvas behind you, ruined and glaring at your back. And then he heaves out a rough, agitated breath, dragging a hand through his hair. "Do you ever think of consequences?" He demands.

"Sure," You say, "I'm exactly where I want to be."

"You know, they are my colleagues. What am I supposed to do if—?!"

You laugh at that, enough that it startles him out of his beginning tirade. He comes up short and his shoulders bunch with tension as he glares at you.

"Is something funny?" He hisses.

"Your colleagues?" You repeat, "that's all they are to you?"

"Well—yes, technically." He stumbles on his words here.

"Are you jealous, Viktor?" You ask. "You don't have to be."

"I'm not jealous—" He refutes, even as his cheeks grow ruddy. And for a moment, you could be twelve with him again, his face flush as he looks at you after you'd kissed him for the first time because he'd never kissed anyone before. Or twenty-two and drunk, kissing one night under the stars when you felt so lost and disorientated in the Upper City—just wanted to feel like yourself again.

Or now, at thirty-two, staring at the man you've loved your entire life and whatever mess you've made out of everything.

You reach out and touch his cheek, glowing with color, and at first he winces away, but when you persist, he relaxes. He presses his cheek to your open palm and looks at you; raw and frank and so Viktor that you can't help the faint smile that touches your lips. Even as he frowns at you.

"What are you meddling with?" Viktor murmurs, turning his face into your cupped hand. You feel the faint brush of his lips, a little dry, and soft. Warm.

"Apparently our political landscape." You respond and that at least gets a laugh from him. You feel it against you and some spark shimmers through you, shudders and opens itself to you.

(Your desire for Viktor is something always with you, ambient, perhaps dormant, that always resurfaces like the great fins of some horrible, huge monster in dark waters. Your desire for Viktor is a symptom of your love. You've never know what to call it except that, except his.)

"Have I upset you?" You ask now as his laughter fades, and with it his amusement.

He sighs deeply and you feel his breath against your skin. You draw nearer. He leans back onto his crutch only slightly, only for a moment, before he allows you further into his space.

"I don't—" He struggles for the words before admitting, "yes, somewhat. For some reason."

"Are you feeling neglected?" You ask and try very hard to keep your amusement out of your voice, lest you irritate him further. He's always had a jealous streak in him, even as kids. If you made another friend, he would pout until you draped yourself over him and showered him in your attention again.

Even your previous relationships had bred some sort of jealousy in him; he's never liked any of your partners.

(It's so endearing to you that you have to tuck your teeth into your own lip and hum a little.)

You lean towards him, ducking your head so that your nose dips to brush against the line of his jaw. You feel his body shudder more than you see it. His breath goes tight. Your eyes flicker, a flash in the sun-spun light of your art studio;

"Do you want me to kiss you the way Jayce kisses me?" You murmur, your lips hovering over his. You watch his face gutter, lashes fluttering against his cheeks. His breath goes shallow.

"Or would you prefer Mel?" You murmur, just before you close the distance and kiss him with a certain fierceness, a meanness that you don't usually have with him. He stumbles back a little with the force of it and your hand that had been holding his cheek, slips into the hair at the nape of his neck.

A groan startles out of him when you tighten your hand into a fist and pull.

You part from the kiss, panting a little, and he looks down at you, eyes molten gold and burning.

You're about to kiss him again, when he murmurs, "I want—" he swallows hard, "I want you to kiss me the way you do—I want—"

You press back into him instantly, suddenly overwhelmed with the thought, with the notion that his desire, his jealousy—

You kiss him like you always have, overeager and desperate and messy. You urge him backwards, towards your workbench, all cluttered with paints. His crutch clatters against the ground uselessly as you grab for each other. You knock over a jar of brushes half-haphazardly placed on the floor.

You're overwhelmed with the thought that his jealousy might've been for you, too.

When he braces his hand against your work bench, he knocks over a cup of paint. You laugh into his mouth as you paw at his stupid, perfectly buttoned vest. When he touches you again, he stains you blue—and later red and violet. Burnished gold and paint so silver it makes the stars look dull.

A mess, he tsks, impossibly fond, as he looks at you and himself and the work space.

At all that you'd done.

***

"You've been pulling strings," Mel says as you lay in her lap, letting her pet and stroke you. Her fingers dance over the ridge of your brow.

You blink up at her slowly, eyes fluttering. "Shouldn't that be my line?" You ask.

"I'm not naive to the way you've been pulling our strings." She muses, fingers tumbling into your hair. She's gentle here, careful as she cards her way through your hair, her fingers nimble.

"Pulling strings is a far too sophisticated thing to call it." You snort and lean into her touch like a cat, preening a little.

"What would you call it?" Mel asks and the smile she wears is less of a mystery to you now, and you can tell there's a fondness to it.

(She does really like you—she is really being sincere, you've learned.)

You think about this for a long moment; you toy with saying a fucking mess. Or digging my own grave. But neither feel quite so full—while true, in many ways, there leaves little room for—

Well, this.

The way she holds you. The cat's curl of her smile, pleased and mischievous. Her fingers, gentle and coaxing, urging you to unfurl and bloom.

Or Viktor's rasping laugh that you can pull out of him. The fondness you hold for him like a pearl held inside a clam, growing and glowing. The way you drape yourself all over him, and he accepts it as easy as the day accepts the sun, or the night accepts the moon into its skies.

And even Jayce and the strangled back-and-forth that the two of you dance; it's still yours. It's still his. And the way he cups your cheek admist the violence or how he let's no one speak ill of you in front of him.

(Or the way Jayce and Viktor's minds work together, or how tactical Jayce and Mel can be; sharpened like daggers and twice as pretty. Or the creativity you pull out of Mel, allowing her to see the world like a boundless piece of art. Or the way Viktor's science influences your art; how your art influences his science. The fierceness you bring out in Jayce—the passion he brings out in you.)

It doesn't quite account for all the parts that make you burn and grow and shake out your great, big wings to fly.

Finally, you say, "it feels like I'm trying to find the melodies and harmonies and how they mesh—or the composition of a painting, or the feeling of a poem, but some of the words are still missing. It feels like when I chase art and try to break it open, to reveal what it wants me to learn—or show me."

"Have you figured it out yet?" She asks and she's genuinely curious, almost quiet in her desire to know.

At that, the door creaks open and there are several hushed whispers before Jayce suddenly strides into the room with all the false confidence in the world. Viktor looks sheepish behind him.

You sit up sharply, trying to detangle yourself from Mel.

"I told you they were here—" Viktor hisses to him, "and we shouldn't—we shouldn't be here."

Jayce isn't listening, though, and he's clearly inflating himself to get out, "I've come on important business of the council."

Mel raises her brows and throws you a sideways glance. She then says, "then come in, Councilor, since it's so important that you've come to my personal quarters. Unannounced."

Jayce at least has the good sense to look a little sheepish now, too. You can't help the laugh that springs out of you.

He throws you a dark look before clearing his throat.

"Councilor Haskel and Salo are seeking to strike down the art deal." Jayce announces and your heart drops a little, sinks in your chest.

You look at Mel. She purposefully keeps her face a mask of coolness. She rolls her shoulder briefly, which is your only tell of irritation or concern.

"Come in, Jayce." Mel finally says, "and you, too, Viktor. Shut the door behind you."

Both wander into the space and it's such a surreal moment, all four of you, for once, in the same room, that you can't help but laugh again.

Mel sighs in a way as if to say, I suppose this would happen eventually.

Jayce and Viktor can't quite look anyone in the eye and they both take uneasy seats int he living room.

Again, you feel like laughing—you're not sure what all the trepidation is for. Each of them have you seen you naked; you have seen them naked.

"What's their angle?" Mel asks, ignoring both Jayce and Viktor's shyness.

Jayce clears his throat, "they don't think it's worthwhile to support an artist from the Undercity at this time."

You wince and Jayce adds, "their words, not mine."

"Well, that won't do." Mel tsks and she suddenly moves to stand, graceful as ever, her robes trailing in a wave of silk and the smell of lillies. She likes to pace when she's thinking, and she pads over the window, to look out at the city.

Eventually, she says, "we'll need a grander plan. Something they can't refuse."

"What are you thinking?" Jayce asks.

She turns and all around her, she's doused in gold light, glowing in the evening sun as if she was born to it. "Perhaps combining some science with it." Now she looks at Viktor, "something symbolic to the current advancements with Hextech, perhaps."

Viktor looks at you, then back at Mel, "I can do that."

"Jayce, I need you to talk to the other Councilors and be sure they're not swayed by Haskel or Salo." She then adds, "and I want more publicity around it—and around our artist and scientist."

Our artist.

Our scientist.

"Ah—" Viktor starts, "I don't want to be in the public eye."

Our, our, our.

"It'll put pressure on Haskel and Salo if the people are behind you both, too." Mel presses gently, though her gaze has softened on him; she's sympathetic to his desires.

To assure him, you chirp, "I can do all the talking."

"Not sure that's our best idea." Jayce remarks.

"I am certain I can name several worse ideas of ours." You quip without thinking, and then you toss one of Mel's throw pillows at him; the beautifully embroidered one that's likely far too expensive and made from the rarest threads.

It hits him with a dull thud. And for a moment, he's shocked. The room is silent.

Still, your heart sings our, our, our.

But then Viktor snorts, before breaking out into his low, soft chuckle. And then the twinkle of Mel's giggles, coupled with your own laughter that bursts from your chest like a bird taking to flight.

And Jayce watches a moment, all of you laugh and smile, and if you could paint him in this moment, you would—

A little awe-struck. Tender around the edges, burnished gold. Breath stolen from him.

(Oh, he does really like you, too. All of you.)

But then laughter rumbles from him, too. And the tension slips from all of you, drains from your bodies with each bubbling sound.

And all of them together—finally together—are the melody you've been looking for, the words you couldn't place. The color on the canvas that finally brings it all together.

It's all the broken pieces like a mosaic, finally put together to create something whole.

And it's all ours, you think, the sun a flare of light and beauty bursting through the room, bathing all of your favorite people in it's gold and glory;

It's all ours.

#jayce talis x reader #mel medarda x reader #viktor x reader #meljayvik x reader #arcane x reader #cielo writes!#cielo's writing!

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pyrodolls · 1 year ago

Text

this isn’t paw-some… (bi-han, tomas x gn reader)

WARNINGS: slight angst to comfort in both, established relationship in bi-han's, slight spoilers for mk1 story mode, gender neutral reader

SUMMARY: bi-han and tomas vrbada somehow turned into animals! but you have no idea it's them, so you end up telling them a secret... (both separate)

A/N: heyyy so um i had no idea what to write yesterday bc i hated every draft i had but i FINALLY got this one done. idk why but i'm in a phase where i hate everything i write. thanks for your patience guys!

bi-han

bi-han woke up to his bedsheets completely engulfing him. in confusion, he tried pulling them aside, but it barely moved an inch.

“what is this…?” he tried mumbling, but instead it came out sounding like the meows of a cat.

in a panic, he immediately rolled out of his bedsheets and tried to stand up, but his legs weren't strong enough to hold him up.

in fact, he didn't even have his legs anymore. he had little legs and paws.

this had to be a nightmare. there's no way he just woke up as a cat. fortunately, he happened to have a day off. but he still had many questions. why did he wake up as a cat? is this a permanent change?

but he knew there was no need to stress. bi-han needed to chill out. panicking doesn't solve anything. he must find you, surely you can recognize him immediately.

first, he must learn to walk as a cat. walking on all fours felt so strange to him, especially because his new paws were so sensitive to the hard, wooden floors. but he can get used to it for now.

you heard a quiet scratching noise at your door. thinking someone probably just accidentally brushed up against your door, you ignored it. until you heard it again. and again. louder each time.

you groaned, getting up and opening the door to a cute black cat.

"oh hello there! what are you doing in a place like this?" you giggled, immediately picking it up and petting it gently.

the cat purred in contentment, and rubbed its head against your hand.

while bi-han enjoyed the close proximity to you, he still needed to find out how to let you know *he* is the cat you are holding.

"i wonder if bi-han would approve of you wandering around." you sighed.

bi-han meowed as loud as he could, tapped on your chest with his little paw, then pointed towards himself. he hoped you understood what he was trying to say.

"it looks like you're trying to stretch. maybe we can go for a walk?" you offered, setting him down.

'this is gonna take a while.' bi-han thought. for now, all he could do was grumpily walk beside you.

"...and then, bi-han told me he was too busy for a night out. i understand that he's the grandmaster and stuff, but i just wish i could spend more time with him. you know?" you ranted to the cat walking beside you, *still* unaware it was bi-han himself.

he listened intently to what you had to say. it was true, he was very busy most of the time and couldn't spend much time with you. but he had no idea it was affecting you this much. once he turns human again, he'll make sure to fix the problem.

after an hour or so of walking around, you finally got tired and walked back to your home. once you reached your bedroom, you picked up the cat you spent your day with and placed it on your bed.

"i hope you don't have any diseases, that wouldn't be very good for me." you laughed nervously, as you climbed into bed next to the cat.

bi-han looked at you in annoyance and scrunched his little nose as if you just called him something offensive.

"anyways, goodnight little one. i hope we can find your owner tomorrow. if not, i can take care of you! as long as bi-han allows it..." you trailed off. "in fact, i'm really scared of displeasing him.."

bi-han's ears perked up at what you said. why would you be so scared of pleasing him? is he so intimidating that he even makes his significant other frightened?

"i mean, it's not like he's aggressive or anything, i just don't want to disappoint him. i feel like i'm walking on eggshells around him. if i say the wrong thing, he would think i'm unworthy of being with him. sometimes... i'm not sure if he really loves me. if he really loved me, he would put more effort into spending time with me... right?" you whispered, as a small tear escaped from your eye.

bi-han's heart broke a bit when he heard that. he knows that he is a bit.. judgemental. but he never meant to make you feel unloved.

he crawled up to you and licked your tear away. he hoped that it would make you feel a bit better about your situation. he made a mental note to talk to you as soon as he was human again. the last thing bi-han wanted to do was hurt you. even after all the people he has betrayed, hurt, and even killed... you were the only person he never wished to harm.

he cuddled up beside you and made himself comfortable. surely a bit of physical touch would make you feel better? it's not like he has been doing that in his human form anyway.. which he notes to fix soon.

soon you both drifted off to sleep peacefully, with bi-han curled up comfortably in your arms.

the next morning, you woke up to bi-han sleeping right next to you. when did he get there?

“bi-han?” you whispered.

when he woke up, he immediately checked his arms and legs. thankfully, he was human again.

“good morning, beloved. how did you sleep?” bi-han asked, strangely casual even though he magically appeared in your bed.

“i slept.. fine. but i had a cat with me. it was a cute little black cat, it showed up at my door out of nowhere yesterday. it was kind of grumpy, but it listened to me when i ranted to it. it kind of reminded me of you.” you giggled.

“about that…” bi-han sighed. “…i have some explaining to do.”

tomas vrbada

tomas had invited you to madam bo’s for dinner, and he was planning on confessing his feelings to you there. but unfortunately, he couldn't exactly make it.

he accidentally fell asleep, and when he woke up he realized he was late. he immediately got up from his bed and tried standing up, but he couldn't stand on his two legs anymore. because his legs were now full of fur, and he had paws.

this could not be happening. the first time he gained the courage to make a move and ask you out, he ends up turning into a dog.

he had to find a way to get to you and do something. what if you think he stood you up on purpose?

you were sitting at a table at madam bo's, waiting for tomas to arrive. you get that he's probably busy, so you were being very patient and decided to wait a bit. but you were sitting there for so long, the place was going to close soon.

you were about to get up and leave, until a golden retriever dog ran up to you with its tail wagging intensely.

it didn't have a collar, so it seemed to be a random stray dog that took a liking to you. but it also seemed so well-behaved, how could it be a stray?

tomas was relieved to see that you were still at the restaurant. he felt bad that he made you wait for nothing, but at least that was a sign that you cared about him.

"oh, hello there. what could you be doing in a place like this?" you greeted, petting the dog in front of you.

tomas felt a bit strange getting petted by you, but it somehow felt really good.

"i was waiting for someone, but he never came..." you sighed. "this place is about to close. maybe you can accompany me while i walk home?"

tomas didn't hesitate to walk beside you, but he couldn't help but feel extremely guilty for wasting your time. he'll find a way to make up for it.

"i know he's a busy guy, but wouldn't he know if he couldn't make it today? i kind of got myself all dressed up for nothing.." you admitted, opening up to the loyal dog that never strayed from your side throughout your walk.

tomas's heart broke when he heard how you felt. if only he was human at that moment, he would've been apologizing profusely and trying to make you feel better.

"i really, really like him. i think he's so kind, fun, and he has always cared about me. i was so excited to go on this date with him, because i thought that maybe it was a sign that he liked me back. i'm trying to stay positive and hope that he was probably just busy, but what if he just doesn't actually care about me?" you sighed.

tomas whimpered in response, feeling extremely guilty about hurting you. he never meant to make you feel that way.

"i don't know if you are sad for me or if you're just hungry.. but you're a good listener. you remind me a lot of tomas..." you mumbled, feeling appreciated by your little companion.

once you arrived to your house, tomas felt very creepy. he was walking around your bedroom, looking at the little trinkets you have and sniffing around. he couldn't help it, it's like he had an instinct to snoop around your living space now that he was a dog.

"i'm really tired... stay here, and i'll find you some kind of blanket to sleep on. i have to put on my pyjamas first, though." you said, silently regretting that you wasted such a good outfit to be stood up.

when you returned to tomas, he was still sitting in your bedroom and patiently waiting. you laid out a blanket for him, and then you crawled into your own bed.

"goodnight. hopefully i can find your owner tomorrow, if you have one. even though you probably can't understand me and i'm just talking to myself.." you mumbled, rolling over and going to sleep.

tomas tried to think of a way to make it up to you when he was human again. he felt so guilty for hurting you. he hoped you didn't lose feelings for him, it would make him feel even worse if you did.

the next morning, you woke up and you were expecting to see the same golden retriever from last night sleeping on the floor.

instead, you looked down and saw tomas himself peacefully asleep on your floor, wearing nothing but a blanket over his privates.

you immediately pinched yourself. this had to be a dream. you had so many questions. what happened with the dog? did tomas break in while you were sleeping?

"tomas?" you whispered.

he slowly opened his eyes, and he let out a sigh of relief as soon as he saw he had his regular body back.

but that sense of accomplishment faded as soon as he noticed that he was pretty much naked on your bedroom floor.

"good morning..." tomas greeted awkwardly.

"good morning." you replied, trying to look respectfully.

you both stood in awkward silence for a solid minute before you finally spoke up.

"so.. what brings you here... naked...?" you asked.

tomas blushed. "well..."

"so.. you were the dog from last night?" you questioned.

"yeah. i'm sorry for uh.. you know, turning into a dog and accidentally leaving you alone on that date." tomas apologized.

"did you hear everything i said last night?" you said quietly, embarrassed that you practically poured your heart out to him without knowing it.

"i did. i am still so sorry that i hurt you. i'll make it up to you, i promise. i'll take you out for dinner again, but i'll show up this time. and i'll pay the bill!" he offered.

hell yeah, free food. who could resist that? you instantly agreed to his offer and you had hope that the date would go well this time, and then maybe you two can become something more.

"great! i'll go get ready right now!"

"tomas, you have hours to get ready, there is no need to rush. and you're still naked, by the way." you sighed.

#mortal kombat 1 x reader #mk x reader #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #sub zero #sub zero x reader #bi han #bi han x reader #bi han sub zero #tomas vrbada #tomas vrbada x reader #tomas x reader #smoke x reader #smoke mortal kombat #im so happy i finally got this done #i kinda dislike it tho LMAO

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innocent-cat · 10 months ago

Note

Hello darling! Is it okay to request a Vax x F!Reader x Percy (love triangle) one-shot? Where the reader is a human sorcereress from a noble family and somehow ends up with Vox Machina, only for Percy and Vax to develop feelings for her (or them, if you are more comfortable) a year later and become rivals and try to impress her.

I hope this isn't too weird! And it's fine if you don't want to do it! Have a wonderful day/night! Stay safe! 🤗💖

OH MY GOD YESSSSSSSSS i actually love this idea so much

Sorceress and noble????? OF COURSE SHE HAS TIESSS WITH THE DE ROLOSSS AND THATS WHY SHE JOINSNSMNNSNS

It's awesome you clarified gender! i only do non-b pronouns when someone doesn't specify the gender. Otherwise I am happy to write for male or female!

sorry im getting excited

Vax'ildan x Reader x Percival

Warnings - idk probably gonna lean towards my bbg percy, not so obvious love triangle, swearing, im literally gonna be using f/n and shit, I'm literally rewatching to remember how to write them as I write this so good luck reading my poor memory of characters, I will use she/her, FUCK I HAD TO USE [name] IM SO SORRY, timeskip because oh my god this is so long,

"Vox Machina's (least) favorite Sorcerer.", Vax x Reader x Percy

.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺༻

[F/N] - Family Name

Lady Mystra - Goddess of magic/The weave

[Name] - I was too embarrassed to use y/n

Envonium - The name of the city you are a noble to (Sorry, couldn’t avoid it)

Twinned spell - A sorcery thing that allows a sorcerer to make one spell turn into two to attack two targets, never the same one twice in a row.

You come from a very rich cultured, religious, well mannered, prestigious and otherwise very dependent on magic kingdom. It only makes sense for such a huge part of the culture surrounding the beautiful city known as "The city of the weave", purely for its well known prestigious academies of magic, to have a generally magical culture. Many everyday tasks require magic, or it is commonly frowned upon to do some actions without it.

As a noble sorcerer yourself, your parents couldn't help themselves but give you the education you needed to become stronger as a magic wielder. They began your education at a young age, which proved a struggle for you to connect with companions and school partners who surrounded you. You were always disconnected from the reality of the lives of non-nobles. Other students seemed to feel the same way, and instead of adapting for you or explaining culture to you, they excluded you, making you an outcast in your own kingdom.

Lucky for you, your parents had many allies and peace treaties with those they were more powerful than or equal to, which happened to include the de Rolos. Once they learned of their children, one of which happened to be your age, Percy, they urged them to allow you, their only daughter, to meet Percival and his siblings.

Sadly, your exclusion in school made you awkward around him, and the two of you had trouble holding conversation for a very long time during your visit to Whitestone. It wasn't until your parents mentioned to Lady and Lord de Rolo the education they put you through so you could become a stronger sorcerer, that Percy warmed up to you and began to ramble about sorcery and wizardry, of which you knew much of both.

His curious personality led to conversations that lasted hours only asking the weave, which was tiring. When you began asking him questions back, he could not help himself but go on rants about science, history, and anything he remembered learning, which was a lot. The two of you had a rivaled education.

"That's... not really how the weave works. Where did you even hear that? That's absurd." You'd quip back at his stupid questions(At least, to you, they were stupid.), that you assumed were common knowledge.

"Well- in this book- it speaks of manipulating and changing the weave to cast spells." He was always defensive, quoting books directly and going as far as showing you the page.

With a sigh, "That book is decades old. You don't manipulate the weave, you pull it. Not even pull! It is a very delicate process." You knew it would be hard to explain, because you didn't quite understand it yourself yet.

Every summer, you would visit Whitestone until they suddenly stopped responding to letters, in which your parents cautiously chose to cut ties with the kingdom, without telling you. Whenever you'd ask about it, they'd hush you or change the topic. It confused you, but deep down, you knew they knew something about it.

Of course, this lets you down. You had begun to develop feelings for the boy who showed you kindness and bonded with you over something you were very prideful in. However, you eventually had to give up asking your parents questions about this, and continued your education in the weave.

Of course, your demanding parents practically begged you to practice your magic in real world experiences so you could be truly prepared. When you showed hesitation in doing such a thing, they only pushed harder- in fact, they packed your bags for you. They gave you a lot of gold for the road, a magic bag to hold everything needed, a change of clothes, food for a few days(Bread, cheese, water.), and a map. Not much, but they knew you were more than capable of making due.

Obviously, being a noble of the [F/N] family gave you a target on your back, but it wasn't much of a problem. It seems people underestimate you because you aren't armed with anything but a quarterstaff, but it takes no less than a chromatic orb or a fireball to kill them within seconds.

With background check over, you sit in a tavern.. :3

A group of loud, drunken, lowly mercenaries are shouting across the bar and asking for trouble with several strong looking city dwellers. You can tell they have no real experience in fighting other than bullying people for their money based on their muscles and lack of scars.

You try to ignore the banter, trying to get lost in a pint of beer as you sip on it, the woozy drunk feeling freeing you from an emotional state you get late into the night when left alone to think of your family, your people, and more importantly, all the books you had to leave behind to come here.

You're brought out of your thoughts as a table goes flying over your head, followed by a mug that hits your head, wetting you with the remaining alcoholic liquid left in the cup.

You quickly snap around, rubbing your now pounding head. You ready yourself to cast a spell strong enough to rival the sun against the dirty drunken party, but you realize it was one of the burly men who like to pretend to be tough who threw the table at you. You quickly change the direction of your twinned spell, making quick work of both of them as they fall stunned to the floor. The bar fight ensues as you knock the two of them out, an elf with dark and long hair defends you as another drunken man swings at you with a makeshift weapon. It seemed like it was a leg to a chair, but you couldn't tell in the blur of the quick paced fighting.

Once the quick turned fight ends, a female ranger announces to the barkeeper that 'Vox Machina' will pay back their tab in due time. You roll your eyes, and with a groan, you begrudgingly hand up a small bag of gold to cover their tab and look at the elven woman with an extremely annoyed face. She looks back, surprised you paid their tab, and even more so surprised you have the audacity to look at her with such a face.

A white haired, taller man looks at you with extreme shock. His face is familiar, but you know better than to stare, something he must have forgotten. Your face shifts into a less disgruntled face as the barkeeper speaks to you, thanking you for kindly paying the group's tab.

With the showy smile you were taught, you give him a soft and polite 'You're very welcome. Thank you for your hospitality.'

Your conversation with the barkeeper is cut short when the brunette, elven woman loudly asks you "And who the fuck are you?"

It sounded much more like actual curiosity than impoliteness, so you choose to not respond with the same tone, instead introducing yourself.

"[Name] [F/N]." (Guys im actually so sorry for having to do that, it feels taboo bc no one likes it) One side of you hoped they knew your family name for the sake of fear or authority, but the other hoped they didn't for the sake of having new beginnings.

Their gnome cleric seemed to be working your name out, familiarity reading on her face. You can tell it clicks when she looks up at you thinking of what to say, but she instead introduces herself and the rest of the party.

"Hi.. I'm Pike, this is Grog, the two similar looking elves are twins, Vex and Vax. The druid is Keyleth, and.. Scanlan is the guy pissing on the sign right now." As she speaks you can hear the encouraging smile on her face in her voice, her friendly introduction and personality persuading you to not judge or speak ill of Vox Machina.

You smile at all of them as she introduces them, except for Scanlan, your face rests in disgust watching the half nude gnome piss on a sign, then accidentally piss on a guard of the kingdom.

You turn expectantly to the one Pike seemingly forgot to introduce, the look of disgust still on your face. He seems startled you gave him the sour face, and you quickly fix it. You wave a beckoning motion at him to introduce himself.

"My name is Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III'' You finally realize who he is, and your face contorts to curiosity, but there's a small amount of disgust evident in it as well.

You have no clue what his family might have done to your’s for them to cut ties with his, but it couldn't have been good. Your mother always fought your father to keep as many allies as possible, and it was very rare for them to both agree on cutting ties.

Rolling your eyes at his long introduction, you cross your arms. The wisp of cold night wind swishes through your hair, as you feel it on your neck. You look up at him like scum under your foot, standing a distance of around 4 feet away from him.

"Do.. you guys know each other?" Pike asks you awkwardly, the rest of the party staring at the two of you awkwardly as well, noticing your repulsed face and Percy's face of surprise.

You scoff. "Know each other? No no.. we're only childhood best friends of neighboring kingdoms." Your voice seethes in sarcasm, your gaze not leaving Percy.

A new voice enters the awkward situation, the elven rogue, Vax, who protected you earlier.

"Yeah, you two really seem to be bonded to the core." His sarcasm matches your's, and you laugh softly, finally turning away from the silent Percy.

Walking towards him to converse, your face changes to a more smug than angry expression, your eyebrows still turned downward. The two of you banter for a moment before Scanlan awkwardly reveals a request for mercenaries.

"You guys wouldn't mind if I joined you, right? It's been a long while since I've been part of a party, and even longer since I’ve seen Percy." You ask Pike, who you assume is the leader of the party as she seems most responsible.

"It never hurts to have a few extra hands!" You can tell she's still dwelling on your interaction with Percy, as her tone is sensitive and her words practically dance around what just happened.

(Timeskip because theres literally a gap in writing in the show BECAUSE I DONT FUKCING KNOW WHAT TO DO HELP)

Waking up in the morning and climbing the stairs up to the ruler of Emon was a struggle, and you couldn't help but cast an ice spell to soothe the headache you currently had. Percy had tried to talk to you a few times, but you had shrugged him off at every opportunity. He opted to walk in the front of the group, conversing lightly with Vex and Keyleth.

It was nice talking to Vax so casually, as it wasn't an opportunity given to you often to speak informally. He gave you a few confused glances whenever you slipped up and started speaking formally, and you'd let out an awkward laugh and wave your hand in front of your face to try and get him to ignore it.

"So- what brings you to Emon?"

"My mother and father pushed me out of the kingg..domm.. I just want to practice my sorcery. I haven't really used it outside of learning it in practice." You trail off, when he gives you a weird look after mentioning your home.

"Oh. Really? That sounds.. wonderful. You seem a truly powerful sorcerer." He replies to you with an awkward smile on his face, trying to keep the conversation flowing with you as best as possible.

Once the party reaches the doors, Trinket, Vex's pet bear, stays on the outside of the doors with the guards. The party all make an awkward introduction, and you attempt to quip that you aren’t part of Vox Machina perse, but Scanlan quickly spoke over you in song, and went over you quite quickly, introducing you as “The sorcerer princess of the city of the weave!” And honestly? You had to admit it was better than anything you were expecting him to say about you, even if he had gotten some facts wrong.

A ‘punch in the gut’ feeling washed over you as you remember that you are a high status noble walking among a group of barfing, hungover mercenaries, and you look just as hungover as the rest of them. You quickly straighten yourself out and push around Vax with a soft ‘Sorry..’ and stand next to Percy, hoping to look better next to him, another noble. He seems surprised but ignores it, letting Scanlan bullshit you guys through the ‘meeting’ you had interrupted by walking in. Eventually, Emon’s ruler and a few advisers approve of your group saving the kingdom, in exchange for a very large box presumably full of gold coins.

You all quickly board the boat like aircraft, shuffling to stand near the railing, you find yourself standing next to Percy after not wanting to interrupt whatever was going on between Vex and Vax, opting to not seem rude or nosy. You of course, keep your space between you and him, and lean on the rail, debating on starting the conversation.

And you do.

“So.. what could the de Rolos have done to have angered the [F/N]s?” You ask, sarcastically, but genuinely curious.

Percy turns and looks at you with a face of bewilderment. “What did we do? What are you talking about?” Percy’s voice has anger lacing through it, and he wasn’t trying to hide it, but it’s not like he was trying to show it either.

“I mean, what did you guys do? Lord de Rolo stopped responding to my mother’s letters, and one day both mother and father refused to speak of Whitestone. It was like you guys did some horrible offense against lady Mystra, or, I don’t know, maybe betrayed one of our stronger alliances?” You dig deeper under his skin unknowingly, your face only showing confusion.

Percy’s stance changed, and he turned his body to face you. “My father stopped responding to your mother’s letters because he was murdered. They.. were all murdered. I ran from my kingdom, barely escaping my attackers, and I assumed you did your’s?”

Your mouth drops ever so slightly in shock, but you quickly close it. “I’m so sorry, Percy. I had no clue. I wish I could have convinced my parents to do something.. And no, I didn’t run from Evonium. My parents sent me away to become stronger.. I finally graduated from my academy.” Your eyes are glossy, as if hurt for Percy for what happened to his family. Your expression was soft, and pitiful. It almost completely contrasted the look you gave him at the bar, if it weren’t for that same pitiful look that knitted in your eyebrows as the wind blew against your face.

He turns away, unwilling to think about the look you had given him. He sighs. “It’s quite alright. I don’t blame you for assuming our families crossed one another. If I was in your position I would have done the same.”

You scoot closer to him, but leave room to breathe. You felt selfish for wanting to heal your relationship so fast, so you would let him choose when the wound was closed.

You felt eyes burning into the back of your head, but you tried ignoring it. Unaware it was Vax, you choose not to turn, and hope it was nothing. It seems he doesn’t want the wound to close at all, and he has a face that reads jealousy. He turns back to Vex, continuing their conversation and trying to shake off the feeling he had about you and Percy.

The ship shakes, and quickly levitates to the ground, a small wooden town ahead of you. The tents were torn, and burns were evident in the wood that kept the cloth up. It didn’t look like the work of a reckless wizard or sorcerer, and it seemed like it came haphazardly from above. You slowly walk down the aircraft beside Percy in silence. Scanlan makes some kind of sexual comment to the woman who brought us here, to which she ignores and promptly leaves without a word. You can’t help but roll your eyes at him.

You and Percy walk awkwardly behind everyone else, as Vax walks beside Keyleth, Pike next to Grog, and Vex next to Scanlan, which she was visibly upset about. However, she didn’t seem too upset as the two bantered sarcastically back and forth. The trail to the tents begins to go down hill, the path muddy and slippery. You try to hold onto Percy’s shoulder as you walk down, in which he drapes an arm around your waist in response to, trying to help support you, but it only brings you flashes of your childhood crush on him, and you fail to pay attention to the floor, despite having a staring contest with it.

You slip, falling backwards for only moments before Percy’s hand grips your hip, his arm already behind your back to support you, and pulls you back up. It was a pull with quick strength that was more of a reflex than an action, and it pulls you nearly face to face. You blush, and mutter a quick ‘Thanks, Percy.’, and he looks away with a quickly spoken, flustered, “Yeah! Yes. Of course.” as if he was trying to pull himself together. You pull away, but keep your hand on Percy’s shoulder until fully down the slope.

Vax turns around to look at the commotion, and he catches a glimpse of you blushing at Percy. He can’t help but scoff at it, and turns back around to talk to Keyleth, only really half talking to her, and her only really half talking to him.

#x reader #percy de rolo #vox machina #percival de rolo #percy de rolo x reader #the legend of vox machina #vax'ildan #vex and vax #vex'ahlia #pike trickfoot #scanlan #vax x reader #vax #vax'ildan x reader #critical role #female reader #love triangle #percyxreaderxvax love triangle #percyxreader love triangle

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luna-loveboop · 6 months ago

Note

Luna, my dear sweet friend, can I pick your brain?

Lofty gave me a veeerrry good scenario for a Time vs Sky conflict, but I'd love to hear your thoughts on what that could look like? I picked 2 very mature characters and now I have to make them brawl lolol

I think the best route (for me at least) wouldn't involve the master sword or Hylia. So this would be a personality conflict. I don't wanna spoil the scenario she gave me, so I thought I'd ask for your general opinion on what you think would make them fight, personality wise🥰

Feel free to delete if you don't care to go over this, but I thought I'd ask cus you're really good at going in depth with character analysis❤️

BYE FRIEND😀 also I hope you're doing well and you're amazing and wonderful❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

YES ok so personality conflicts between Sky and Time. There's... a lot to look at there lol.

So I'm just gonna look at each of their personalities +flaws, and then how they interact :))

Soo for Time

Time is dad. He's older and more experienced- and he's still a stubborn gremlin like all of them. He's patient with them but also stern- he cares very deeply about all the boys and Sky is no exception

I don't doubt for a second Time wants to be just as close to Sky as the others

One of Times biggest flaws is the idea of a closed mindset. Which makes sense, since we know Time's ending as the hero's shade- he spends years in that mindset of regret. Time has these thoughts of being too old to change (<no), and allows himself to keep holding onto bitterness, especially about the sword. Which he has good reason to be a grumpy old man already, with the mental and physical age difference, but still

Time is obviously capable of changing his mind- as Wind took a challenge to prove

But overall Time is still. He's not super expressive, my man likes to just be. He wants to be still and live, and hero as needed, and not be a super crazy hero, but just a chill dude with malon.

Time is patient and stern and calm and good. He is also closed and stubborn. That's all good, but it doesn't always work the best with Sky.

So Sky.

I literally love this ask because I could rant forever about his flaws to talk about them more (no one kill me).

Sky very highly values being a hero as part of who he is- in contrast to time who literally just doesn't want to.

I see so much of Sky's patience. And with good reason- with others Sky is endlessly patient and calm in resolving conflict. He's emotionally intuitive and intelligent and awesome

But Sky is also I think extremely impatient. With himself, and with things around him that aren't going well.

He wants answers and he wants them now, which is kind of scary from him. I see a lot about Skys temper, but I don't want to forget how much of that is from impatience- not knowing how to handle things going slow.

Because things moving fast and violently is how it needs to be right? *cough cough IMPA

For all sky is extremely patient with others feelings, he is one of the most impatient people with himself and his circumstances. Which a lot of comes from immaturity, which is my next point-

Sky is. A monster with pranks. I don't even know why it took me so long to realise this was Sky-

Saying 'I know we should help but this is too funny'. Twilight and wild are looking disturbed and like they want to help, and Sky and legend are just cold-blooded leaving four struggling for his shield and taking bets. He's very immature, and furthermore, he doesn't really respect Time as an authority as much in the face of pranking/joking

Bro is not remorseful at all I swear-

I also think 'nice hair' Sky is a little... idk judgy? With people he doesn't get along with as well. Like Hyrule. (Wait I haven't yet I gotta rant on that sometime sorry- but yeah he and Hyrule don't vibe well)

Sky can also be unrestrained with his words and snark- his words can practically be a prank in itself 'nice hair' 'am I late?'. I think sometimes he toes the line with pranks and joking around (like that one quest where you could break Peatrices heart?), and same with his words. Overall he's a snarky and sharper person- and being able to pull off good pranks and jokes isn't inherently a bad thing- he's smart. He's a kind person too, but I think sometimes his words and actions can be too sharp.

I think Jojo also said in the post with their ages that she made him slightly younger because of his immaturity compared to twilight. Do with that what you will

So point is, Sky has flaws that are mildly subtle but still prominent, like his impatience with himself and situations, his immaturity with joking and temper and words, and I hc he's a slightly judgy person. 'Nice costume' to Zelda like SKY but I swear I love him. Don't kill me for discussing flaws please I have a dog

So how this comes together with between him and Time is pretty cool-

Skys impatient, and Time has a resistance to change in his mindset- which means that as far as the sword, Sky wants change now, he wants validation and Time to not hate it. Time does not care about this because the sword hurt him and he's spent years hating it.

But with situations and stuff, especially with the entrance arc, we can see Sky being very impatient after Twi's injury- from what I can tell he wants to rip dinks throat out. But it's still subtle- what's not as subtle is how much Time wants to slow down. He wants to hold them back and protect them, and Sky is impatient in a frustrating situation. I could honestly see Sky wanting to run after the shadow on his own right now (sorry, I've been rereading elastic heart). Sometimes patient + wanting to hurry up doesn't work well.

If you think about it in relation to their journeys it makes sense that they are portrayed this way. Skys journey was about rushing and trying to hurry up. Times journeys were horrifying, with this insane feeling of running out of time.. but he could still turn back said time.

I can't even count the number of people I've seen say they tried to rush through the eldin temple as fast as possible on reruns- after Impa telling him it was too late trying to run as fast as possible even knowing it wouldn't change anything. That translates into skys character, and it must be insanely frustrating for him.

They are both heros. Time's journey was about saving the world and Sky's was about trying to kill a god. It's a big disconnect between them- one is patient and one is not, one doesn't want to be a hero and one's life is being a hero dating a goddess. One lightheartedly jokes and one throws a love letter down the toilet (SKY), one is older and one is immature. Yet on the surface Time wears a scowl and Sky is as soft as can be.

They are so very different in so many ways, but so much alike- they are both heros, they both want to be young and playful at heart. They both really like stabbing things and setting them on fire. And also saving the world.

They are also both extremely mature in ways beyond their years and endlessly kind.

I love them so much.

I wasn't sure to say this in the post bc the ask is about personalities, but I feel like another major issue between them could be whatever happened with Time and timelines and the triforce. Obviously the timeline is messed up. I also have not played times games... but I think in timeline talk one he mentioned the triforce of courage ended up broken? I can see Sky not taking well to all of that.

Soooo in terms of personality conflicts that would make them. Fight? Yikes what are you planning Oma, I would say there's several possible triggers outside of the master sword and Hylia (which I think is wise of you to avoid btw)

I think that Skys impatience contrasting with Time's fixed mindsets can have issues. But the way Sky has shown no acknowledgment of Time when he's tried to stop the boys goofing off w/ pranking can also be a trigger- as well as that sharp and sometimes insensitive snarkiness in Skys words we all know and love. They have. A lot of issues. lol.

Yeah! I uhh hope that helped and was relevant or made sense at all- I swear I love these guys. These two are fun to look at because outside of the obvious stressor of the sword they have a lot of other issues as well. They have differences in thinking and personality that can lead to a lot of tension between them.

Thank you for the ask and I can't wait to see what you come up with

The art and comics is by Jojo @linkeduniverse au :D

Thank you for listening to my rant, and here's one of my favourite pictures of these guys

Simply majestic <3

@skyloftian-nutcase

#also I wanted to answer this so just saved drafts and didn't edit! so if something didn't make sense or was accidentally mean I'm sorry /ge #don't. don't kill me I love them it's just important that they have flaws-#not hate! no hate ever!!#I have not played times games so I talked more on Sky than him #thank you for the ask I've been wanting to answer some like this! but I wasn't sure how to say hey guys what do you want me to rant about #like characters and interactions or whatever cause that's wierd #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu sky #lu time #asks #my very favourite froggy friend

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taffywabbit · 2 years ago

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idk if i'm way off the mark on this, but the way some people are responding to that Guillermo del Toro interview about the decline of studio animation is a bit frustrating to me. specifically the bit where he talks about "emoji animation" and how everything is over-animated and pushed too far and things are rarely allowed to not be ultra-cartoony (y'know, because animation always needs to be marketable to children who are never trusted to have attention spans, right?). like, i think he's generally correct about it! but some folks are taking the wrong message away from that.

i've seen people going off about how "soulless" and "corporate" various recent examples are, and talking about these pieces of media as though they're the result of some kind of personal failing or lack of skill/range on the part of the animators, and it's just like. do people realize that's the only animation you're usually allowed to DO in the industry, unless you get incredibly lucky and land yourself on a project/studio that's unusually cool?

when i was in college for animation it was literally drilled into us nonstop that everything had to be pushed more, that exaggeration was not a guideline or a sometimes-treat but a hard rule that always had to be applied regardless of what was going on, because the viewer couldn't be trusted to pick up on subtlety and we sure as hell couldn't be trusted to convey it. you ever wonder why there's such a specific vibe to a lot of self-directed student films, particularly ones that are focused on character acting/interaction or deep emotions and introspection (especially when there's minimal/no dialogue)? it's because for a lot of young animators, they haven't had the freedom to experiment with realism and subtlety up to that point and they're likely not going to have it again for a while (or at all, unless their career path leads to higher positions where they might have more creative direction over the things they work on. which also becomes a lot less likely if they're anything other than a cishet white dude, for what it's worth).

i would LOVE to see more nuanced, realistic, understated motion and acting in animation. i WANT more characters to be able to express what they're feeling through natural body language and facial cues and for scenes to allow me to breathe instead of spelling everything out in giant bold flashing text all the time. what del Toro wants to see changed in the animation industry sounds great, and i hope others join him in seeking to revamp what modern animation is allowed to be.

but as things currently stand, and as they've stood for a long while now, most artists doing the grunt work on the shows and movies you see are completely at the mercy of corporations and networks who have a vested interest in producing a very specific kind of marketable and cost-efficient media all the time. (and by extension that style is ALSO what's taught in most animation schools, because their job more than anything is to grind you down into a perfect little sweatshop worker who will bend over backwards to meet quotas and get your work approved and not question the higher-ups, even if you have little to no personal investment in the projects you're working on, so that the studios who employ you can maintain their good reputations or whatever)

anyways idk what my point was here, this really just sorta became a rant and my views have undoubtedly been coloured by my own personal experiences (this kinda shit is largely why i dropped out before my last year of animation school, for the record).

i guess just be kind to folks in the animation industry? they've had it fucking rough nonstop for well over a century (the majority of them are still not unionized and there's HUGE pushback against doing so in many places). i assure you they are doing their best to infuse the latest uninspired illumination flick or weird spinoff kids' show with literally any amount of soul they can. you don't have to like the stuff that gets produced by any means! be a hater! i'm certainly not gonna stop you. just remember where these creative decisions come from and why these conditions exist, and consider that when YOU watched something and thought "hmm that could've been done better", you can bet your ass someone actually working on it probably thought the same thing but couldn't do anything about it. these things WILL change as the industry itself improves, but in the meantime folks have to pay their rent, and that usually means doing what they're told and working in a way that will minimize revisions and meet quotas so they can keep their jobs. it sucks, but it is what it is.

#buny text #long post #animation #i don't have a rant tag because i don't necessarily want to encourage myself to make posts like this frequently #but this is obviously a touchy subject that's close to home for me and it felt important to get it out #i realize i am on the Getting Super Mad At People Who Make Popular Media website so hopefully this does not bite me in the ass

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jonathanrook · 5 months ago

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girl. talk about impossible goals.

this whole "updating all my goat profiles" thing is really doing a number on my goat riches

#idk on the fence about the polar ursa ad tbh #and i don't need the grim reaper ad until either dupe names are allowed or the purge opens up the name richie #bc i'm gonna give richie my wereling ad that's currently on klyde #and make klyde the grim reaper #fingers crossed at least #idk i'm really torn about the polar ursa ad bc it's either that or the sweet dreams probably #but i also really like the sugarplum and beast master. which might seem like left field picks but it's for an oc #rachel rants #“richie just buy a rosemary moth orb and hope for the best” well i hate gachas and refuse to engage w them so jot that down

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amymbona · 5 months ago

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i need angst so !! thinking about patrick with an introverted, shy, kinda closed off reader who sometimes needs to just be by herself and isolates and ghosts the people around her because she gets overwhelmed. and of course patrick gets mad because he doesn't get it and he confronts her about it and they get in a huge argument idk. i feel like she's a lot like a female version of art and she gest sneaky and mean when she's angry so i just imagine patrick seeing this part of her for the first time and they end up saying the worst things to each other

thank you <33

Patrick angst Zweig <3

I think that, as much as Patrick tries to be a good guy, he's just really oblivious and fails to notice important stuff. It doesn't mean that he doesn't care - no no no - but he's simply kinda stupid. And unfortunately, he's having issues with figuring out certain social cues.

So when your responses are dry, only sending simple yes and no to his messages, Patrick gets really pissed. What exactly is the issue - do you suddenly hate him? Has he done something so terrible that offended you and you weren't even able to talk to him about it? Or is it the harsh truth that you don't want to be friends with him anymore? While you're (somewhat) peacefully asleep, hoping to get past your anxiety in that way, Patrick spends hours pacing around his room, literal steam shooting from his ears.

And then he storms into your dorm in the middle of the night - because Patrick Zweig doesn't understand the concept of time and because Patrick Zweig doesn't care if somebody wants to get rest and mainly because Patrick Zweig doesn't like waiting - so you're forced to listen to him rant, half asleep, in your pyjamas.

"I don't understand it, I just - did I do something? - or what is it? Why won't you just tell me?"

"Patrick, just go to your place. We'll talk in the morning," you beg him with a sleepy voice, eyes closing.

He stomps towards your bed, hands on his hips, staring down at your tired frame, "Why? Why won't you just talk to me? You've been ignorin' me since the start of the week. What the hell's your issue?"

"Just go," you plead once again, genuinely not in the mood for any of it.

"Don't tell me to go - goddamn - don't sleep now! Just talk to me, for fuck's sake," Patrick is still pushing his luck, unable to respect your wishes. He is determined to get this answer. And unfortunately, that pushes you over the edge.

"Why do you have to be so pushy all the time? Oh my god, just leave me alone - why don't you get it? I'm not texting you cause I wanna be alone!"

He's dumbfounded, totally.

"What the hell, Y/N?"

But you're having none of it, sadly, too upset about this whole treatment, about Patrick constantly chasing you, glued to your back, not allowing you a single moment for yourself. You love him, but you need to be alone as well, "You're after me all the time - do you have an idea how frusttating that is? I can't be with you all the time, Pat. I'm not a robot, I need some time for myself too!"

And you know Patrick is quite an emotional guy, dependent too. He requires constant reassurance and presence of his loved ones - so much, that he's blind to all the hints of discomfort, unable to understand the world doesn't revolve around him.

"Oh," he nods, stepping away from your bed slowly, "Okay."

Like a harsh shake, the realisation that you have unintentionally hurt his feelings wakes you up. But you couldn't hold it back, you just couldn't, when you were so overwhelmed, "Wait, Patrick-"

"No no no," he cuts you off, "Good night."

And then you're left alone. But suddenly, you don't want to be alone. You want Patrick to come back, to be here, lay next to you and talk your ear off. To rant and rant and rant until you're asleep, unaware of anything he's saying, but snuggled closely to his side. Hurriedly, you pick up your phone and text him.

Y/N: pat [0:28 am]

Y/N: sorry [0:28 am]

Y/N: i'm sorry [0:28 am]

Y/N: come baxk [0:28 am]

Y/N: please [0:29 am]

Y/N: sorry [0:29 am]

Y/N: :( [0:29 am]

[seen by Patrick Zweig]

#pookies army <3 #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig angst #challengers #challengers angst #ask

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softspace-fics · 5 months ago

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I have a rant and it's stupid but it's a rant

I do not like milk I have NEVER liked milk and in my brain milk is ONLY allowed on cereal and with cookies (also I'm probably lactose intolerant or something because the bathroom trips are NOT worth it)

Now with all that being said I understand littles wanting that nostalgic feeling when drinking milk or you might like it in general idk whatever the reason you do you

But I need to read a fic with a sleepy little and one of the Marvel men carrying they around the kitchen while setting up the tea kettle, then walking over to a cabin with decades worth of a tea collection (calling myself out rn I have tea from before I was born passed to me from my grandma it's still good) but after preparing the bottle with beautifully brewed tea they sit with they're little feeding them till they pass out

Anyway thank you for coming to my rant/Ted talk you can 100% ignore this I hope you have a good day

Cabin time!

Steve rogers x Bucky barnes x Little!gn reader

Masterlist - All my work!

A/N - I really hope you like this! I was so excited to write this because I absolutely relate to you, I hate milk, I write it in a lot of my stories because I know a lot of littles love milk, but I absolutely agree that it's just not worth the bathroom trips at all-. But this story is one of my favorites that I have written so far. I hope you like it!! (P.s I was so tempted to write this as Strange x Tony but I feel like Steve and Bucky would have centuries of tea that they collect)

Warnings: None! Pure fluff.

____________

You buzzed with excitement as you watched the trees past you. The smell of the rainforest surrounding you in the car as your two favorite caregivers sit in the front seats, a lofi playlist playing softly through the speakers.

You clutch your favorite stuffie in your hand, your paci safely in your mouth, giggles filling your throat, alerting your papa that you were awake.

“Morning sunshine, were about 10 minutes out.” Steve glanced back at you from the rear-view window, smiling as he sees your relaxed but excited state.

You mumble something incoherent behind your pacifier as a response which makes both of your caregivers chuckle. Bucky turns slightly in his seat to face you in the back seat watching the sparkle in your eyes that grows every second from seeing the trees that you all love so much.

You, Steve, and Bucky all like to go up to your cabin every November where its a little colder and stay there for about 2 weeks, away from anything and everything that could take them away from you. They make sure that they leave their jobs back at home when they're with you in the cabin, being your caregivers and loving you dearly.

When you guys arrive at the Cabin, your Dada climbs out of the passenger seat and helps you out of the backseat, carrying you with his metal arm as he helps Steve carry some bags with his other.

He walks up to the cabin with you clutching his shirt and you happily laying on his shoulder, comforted by his touch and his smell. He kisses your head as your papa opens the door. ITs later in the day, the sun begins to set behind the trees and the night creatures begin to wake. This means that the boys want to get you in and settle in time to hopefully get you down for bed at a reasonable time.

Your dada sets down the bags he carried in before heading to drop you into your play pen that looked like you left it when you left last november. Your precious toys need a serious catch up of blabbled and stories, so your dada sets you in there so him and your papa could unload the car.

You pick up the bunny sitting near you and begin to play, telling your old friends about your best friends Peter and Stephen, how you guys would cause your caregivers a hard time all for the giggles and laughs. Getting up to no good is fun with your best friends.

The two finish bringing in the items from the car before steve comes over and scoops you up with your bunny and turtle friend, kissing your nose and crading you in his chest.

You look up at him with droopy eyes, the nap in the car not sufficing for keeping you awake to far past bedtime. You drop one of the stuffied to ball steves shirt in your hand before burying your face in his chest, the comfort of your papa settling in.

“Does my sleepy baby want some tea?” Steve softly whispers as he begins to walk to the cabins kitchen. You nod into his chest, your favorite drink sounds wonderful right now.

You had always struggled with the taste texture and how milk made you feel, so you loved tea, any time you could, big or little you were drinking tea. When you were little it was your favorite thing to have before you go to bed, some nice herbal tea while being held by the people you felt the safest with.

Steve carries you around the kitchen, filling the kettle and placing it on the stove while keeping you securely in his arms. He leaves little kisses on your head as he grabs your favorite tea out of the cabinet, and grabbing a bottle that can safely hold the warm drink.

Once the kettle gets warm enough that the waters just almost boiling, he pulls it off the heat and carefully puts together your tea. Making sure to keep anything hot away from you until the bottles made and ready for you to drink.

You both walk out of the kitchen to bucky on the couch in comfortable clothes and some blankets surrounding him, he has your favorite movie to watch when you get to the cabin set up and hes so ready for some cuddles.

Steve sits down next to bucky with you in his arms, he puts the bottle of tea to your lips as bucky softly pulls your legs onto his lap, rubbing gentle small circles on your calf as he presses play on the movie.

Life was perfect.

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somewhereincairparavel · 2 months ago

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If Jason's character had been written to its fullest potential, as you and many others have discussed several times, do you think that there would still be a large amount of favouritism towards Percy or do you think there would just be people arguing over who's better?

Personally I like to think that if we had gotten a few books documenting Jason's time at Camp Jupiter prior to the release of The Lost Hero, people would've had time to warm up to Jason a bit more and develop a fondness for his character and then the second option probably would've happened but what do you think?

my inbox was sort of jammed w asks so I'm sorry this took so long anon! i wanted this post to be more in-depth and not lazily written so I waited for a while to get my motivation recharged again, i hope this post reaches you somehow haha

my take on this, is that yes, jason would've gained more support than he did originally, and there wouldn't have been an agressive bandwagon of people jumping on the slander train, but he would still be somewhat disliked/suppressed imo.

from what I've observed the hate doesn't just stem fom him being uninteresting, it's combined with a lot of people's attachment towards percy, that they gatekeep him and are agressive to anyone who even alludes that other characters have a chance of being more interesting/powerful if rick hadn't played favourites. (like hazel, nico, thalia, etc)

i think you'll get a better perspective with this example I'll be giving you from one of my observations (i sound like a philosophy professor pfft)

I was on the r/camphalfblood reddit once, and a post came up on my feed, the person went on to rant about how jason shouldn't be 'trying so hard to suck up to nico by being so overbearing' and that they 'wished it wasn't jason with nico in that scene, it should've been someone else' and that rick shouldn't have made jason so nice and understanding about it. they were outright bashing him for being supportive?? idk it was clear they favoured percy over him and had some kind of prejudice against jason.

i didn't even understand what op was so pressed about. that jason wasn't being homophobic and was being a supportive ally? lol thankfully the comments went off and a few of them said 'you're saying this but you would be bashing jason if he wasn't comforting nico as well, jason can never win in the fandom' and that was VERY true.

I've seen people say that jason shouldn't have been written to be a very handsome heartthrob either and that they were very annoyed that rick kept emphasizing his good looks, making him 'too perfect' but that person failed to acknowledge that rick emphasized percy's attractiveness way more than he did jason lol but that was apparently completely alright (to me it just translated to 'how dare rick make jason as good looking as percy, only percy is allowed to be hot, jason deserved to look like an ugly rat' LOL)

so you can see how people pick on him about the most trivial things ever to 'defend' percy from imaginary arguments/rivalry lol

if jason was written well, they'd still find a way to hate on him, probably tossing the 'hes such a gary stu he has no flaws' in there aswell

funny thing is that they hated him for being too perfect and not making mistakes, but proceeded to SHRED him to pieces during MOA when he said he was suspicious of nico. didn't you just claim that he needed flaws? but the moment he displays it you are driven off of the handle??

I do have an interesting perspective that works in jason's favour tho, where I'm willing to bet that atleast 80% of the fandom would've been sympathetic to his struggle and he would've become a fan favourite, even going as far as to rival percy's fame, where, like you mentioned, there would've been equal percy and jason stans and it would've become a debate as to who is better. (hint: villian jason grace) send me an ask if you want me to elaborate on this ;)

#pjo #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo series #pjo hoo #jason grace #pjo hoo toa #rrverse #hoo #hoo fandom #heroes of olympus #percy jackson fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #character analysis

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charmedreincarnation · 1 year ago

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hi i’m sorry for this small rant. i really hope you reply to it because i’m spiralling so bad. i have been listening to v powerful luckiest girl and get all your desires instantly forced subs and i had two really bad days and overall my life feels so shit and i feel like nobody gives a shit about me feel left out with my friends and am really regretting some past choices i have made as in subjects i chose to study. why do subs not work on me ever? i detach but subs just don’t work for me idk what should i do i want to enter the void and live my better/dream life but i keep failing and i’m so spiraling so hard rn. i am not even seeing small success i can’t even manifest my acne away or to grow a few inches how will i enter the void and magically change my life entirely. please help me out. how do i manifest or enter the void as soon as i can. i am being delululu living in 4d but yes ik if i am truly living in the end i shouldn’t have doubts but it’s been so many months when will i see results in my 3d. manifestion should be instant right. i’m sorry for my negativity i hope you have a great day

Hi love! I feel like any of this could be answered in another ask, but you seem really worried, so I'm going to answer it anyway!

First and foremost, you are allowed to have doubts. Just because you have doubts doesn't mean you're producing those thoughts. From a psychological perspective (which aligns with LOA), our thoughts are not entirely our own. This is a scientific truth, whether you believe in LOA or not. Scientists say that our thoughts are influenced by external factors such as our environment, upbringing, and the thoughts of others. Sound familiar? They also claim that we have the power to change our thoughts and create our own reality by consciously choosing the thoughts we entertain. So, just know that you're going to have doubts until the end, but as long as you categorize them as random thoughts and not your own beliefs, they don't matter! For example, if someone dressed as Chucky the doll jump-scared you and you started having "scary" thoughts about it, that doesn't mean you actually believe Chucky is real and coming to get you. You have psychological responses to certain things that have been ingrained and coded in you for a while now. What LOA does is help us intercept these false messages and reframe them as "useless" instead of messages we encode in our mind and assumption.

I've always been interested in psychology and neurology, and even though it doesn't directly relate to your question, it's important to mention that you do have a brain, and your brain is wired to act in certain ways. Once you're aware of why you're acting and believing certain things, it becomes way easier to understand that the 3D world is malleable. I really suggest reading books by authors like Joe Dispenza so you can understand yourself better. Also, watching YouTubers who explain anxiety and reading self-help books can provide helpful ways to manage your own anxiety.

The second thing is, if you don't believe in subliminals, I don't know why people do this, but if you don't have faith in something or assume it doesn't work for you, just use something you have a little faith in. For example, maybe you're more logical. You can read about brain waves and then listen to binaural beats for anxiety,manifesting, and faith. Have faith in it, because you'll understand and know that those waves genuinely change your brain's alignment. That's just one example, but subliminals are not the only type of audios out there. There are many other methods to explore.

Also, meditation is very helpful. Not just to reach the void, but do you know how many conscious thoughts we have in a day? On average, it is estimated that a person has around 60,000 to 80,000 thoughts per day. These thoughts can range from conscious, deliberate thoughts to automatic, repetitive thoughts. That doesn't even include the number of unconscious thoughts we have, which is probably 100k+. You constantly have these little things running around in your head, trying to keep you alive, keeping you repeating the same thought patterns, beliefs, and assumptions. You can't consciously control them most of the time, but your brain and mind are working overtime 24/7. It's not your fault, so that's why meditation can help you. Not just to reach the void, though you can tap into that using some form of meditation as well, but to clear your mind and then it’s there it will be better to affirm and believe you can do whatever you desire. If you're not truly embodying the desired state, which you're not because you sent this ask, do you think a few measly affirmations can counteract the hundreds of thousands of thoughts you've been having every day since birth, most of which you don't even know exist? Affirmations do work, but trust me, I've been where you're at and worse. This is not the state to solely rely on "miracle affirmations" because you won't believe them, and when something doesn't happen, you'll just want to give up and confirmation bias will make you subconsciously think, "Well, see? I knew it. It isn’t real" But in reality, your mind is just looking for proof to align with your negative beliefs.

I know you say you haven't manifested anything, but can you really think back to something you thought was a "coincidence" or something you didn't really ask for but it just appeared? We usually brush those off as just the world at play or a small world, but nope, that was you. Maybe you don't have clear skin or whatever your desire may be, but as you probably know, that's because you've put it on a pedestal compared to all the other "small" but great things you've manifested

I know you probably wanted me to tell you exactly what to do, but I genuinely don't know you the way you know yourself - your own self, mind, and behaviors. You know best, fr! I could have said anything I've said before, like imagination is the real reality, the 3D being malleable, if you can see and feel it you can manifest it, try SATs or lucid dreaming lalala. But I've learned that you know what you have to do. Sit and meditate to learn about yourself and your mind, and why you think what you think. What past experiences do you still hold onto, reliving them in your mind and creating assumptions that no longer serve you? They can still affect you, we are humans and emotions cling to us like bees to honey, and that's okay. But we need to start moving those experiences into the past and start creating with what we are now, which is the present. Any given moment is a time to say, 'Okay, this doesn't serve me anymore, and this does. I don't want this life anymore, I want this type of life,' and consciously start creating with those desires instead.

Acknowledge your doubts, they're just doubts, and they're really just an extension of life factors that have been slowly consuming your mind. You may have them, but as a god, do you have them? No. But as a human, you are influenced by them, and who cares? You know who you are and your power now, so if you disregard them, work around them. But I can't tell you what to do because I'm not you! I wholeheartedly believe that you will get through this because I have as well and the lows are just apart of your journey as the success as corny as it sounds. But when you do succeed I promise you’ll back to this movement and just be very happy you didn’t give up despite how hard it was 💝

#law of assumption #manifesation #manifesting #void state #my asks

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fight-nights-at-freddys · 6 months ago

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"I don't support it in real life!"CW: talk of sexualizing minors, slight rant

Then why write about it? If for coping purposes, why post it online for others (especially actual predators) to see and consume? Then why portray those things in a positive light instead of condemning them?And you're seriously going to tell me that just because as an adult (1) you want to see a fictional minor (that mind you, is usually designed to resemble an actual child) depicted in sexual situations doesn't mean you don't share that same view concerning children in real life? You find fictional minors attractive but not real ones? Why does the line between finding someone who is (and usually also looks like) a child sexually attractive get drawn at whether the child is real or not? I'm not calling anyone pedophiles, but if the shoe fits...(1) No I am not talking about 18 y/os finding 17 y/os attractive. Use your brain. Creating content of underaged characters is still questionable regardless of age, however.

"Just mute/block instead of harassing others!"I have nearly 70k people blocked on twitter, and hundreds of words and tags muted, I softblock and mute people who post things I don't want to see. I still see certain things on my timeline, usually because1) It's posted in the main tags of something I'm interested in2) The post isn't even tagged at all3) If someone quote retweets from someone I've blocked, I still see the take on my timeline.

"Antis use the same rhetoric as exclusionists and TERFS!"What exactly does being against pedophilia have to do with trans (women) exclusionary radical feminism?And what does lgbtq discourse in general have to do with not wanting minors to be sexualized?

"Antis harass people!"Apparently, proshippers have never done this before! Not once has a grown adult stalked literal children for calling their ships gross!Not saying harassments ok at all, but let's not act like the poor proshippers are being oppressed here.Also, I promise you, someone saying "x is a proshipper, please block them if you don't want to see their content" is not harassment. Writing callout posts and videos on underaged "antis", however is most definitely harassment but y'all don't want to hear that. People have the right to know if they are platforming people who go against their personal beliefs and morals. Choosing to hide that from people who would otherwise not want to interact with you for the sake of not wanting to "lose friends" makes you a bad person, and you should feel bad.

replying under the cut bc this ask was long enough, and i don't wanna make ppl who follow us/see this have to scroll for eons

why do you think coping mechanisms have to stay private? if someone's coping mechanism was yoga, or working out, would you say they have to do that by themselves, in the confines of their own house, and they aren't allowed to talk to anyone else about it? i hope not, because that would be ridiculous (inb4 "yeah but yoga isn't harming anyone!", neither is fiction!).

the fact of the matter is, anyone can consume any type of content, and that shouldn't prevent people from making what they like. why not portray it in a positive light? what does it matter? any regular person knows that what they see in fiction should not necessarily be replicated in real life. i know better than to go out and kill someone just because billy loomis and stu macher do it.

furthermore, wouldn't you want actual pedophiles to use fiction rather than them going out and hurting real children? that's not how that works, but using your argument that they're one and the same, wouldn't that be better for everyone, and result in less people getting hurt, ergo fiction doesn't hurt anyone?

no, fictional characters are not meant to resemble actual children. that IS a crime. however, you cannot look at an anime child, or idk, kid ashley from TCOAAL, and tell me that looks like a REAL child. that's nonsense. and no, it does NOT mean i "share the same view concerning children in real life", because those characters aren't real, and i (can't believe i have to say this) am NOT attracted to real children. yes, you ARE calling me a pedophile, which is just categorically not true. it's not "questionable" because it's not REAL, which is necessary for someone to be diagnosed with pedophilia, which is a disorder, and not just some label you can put on people.

genuinely, if you are THAT sensitive to people having other opinions, or are sensitive to different kinds of art, maybe social media isn't the place for you to be. if the post isn't tagged, i agree, something should be done about that, but the fact is, WE DO tag our stuff. that has nothing to do with me (or chica), or even proshippers as a whole. you're doing the thing were you believe one rotten apple spoils the bunch.

when you post something online, you HAVE to understand that literally anyone can view it, and if your accounts aren't private, anyone can interact with it. that is the cost of posting online. if you can't handle that, log off.

i don't think i've ever compared being an anti to being a terf/exclus, BUT they do objectively share some of the same opinions as conservatives, and even nazis (which is NOT to say all antis are conservatives/nazis, but that you share some of the same ideals).

i can't speak much to that because i don't think i've ever made that argument, but it is a lil radfem-y when most of y'all go after specifically BL and yaoi. also terfs aren't only bigoted towards trans women, it's also trans men. idk why you said that.

yes, correct, anyone can harass anyone, but the fact of the matter is, 99% of the time proshippers get harassed, it's while we're in our own lanes, minding our own business, and y'all (much like you're doing right now) come into OUR spaces and call us pedophiles, and say we deserve to die, or that we should kill ourselves.

if you've been following this blog for the last week-ish, you'd have seen some prime examples of just that. doing nothing, talking to no one, and getting harassed. people saying i should be on watchpeopledie, saying i should be killed, that they hope i get cancer, or die in a car accident, or that my dad beats me to death. that i should "slit", cut to the bone, kill myself, hang myself. threatening to doxx me, find my address, have tried to grab my ip. the difference is, when proshippers are found to be doing this stuff, they're called out and reported, often by other proshippers, whereas antis, when they exhibit this behavior, they are encouraged. they're praised by their peers.

if all people did was say "x is a proshipper, block them", we wouldn't have an issue, but the fact is, a significant amount of y'all don't start with blocking. you start with slurs, nasty names, disgusting accusations, and downright deplorable behavior BEFORE you block us. if you block us. and when we block you, it's entirely possible you just create a new account to harass us from, or grab your friends to do it for you.

if platforming people who like different types of fiction than you is that big of a problem, that you feel the need to write callouts, make google docs, harass them, and threaten to doxx them, you need to get off the internet. stop interacting with people AT ALL. live in a bubble. because again, people you don't like are always going to exist on the internet, it's your duty to navigate that in the best way you can, WITHOUT hurting anyone.

people hide the fact they're proship because we don't want the harassment. that's sorta the crux of the issue? you're completely ignoring the COUNTLESS posts of people being harassed for simply existing and being proship. we shouldn't be made to feel bad for trying to protect ourselves and our peace, YOU should be made to feel bad for making others feel bad.

#my brain too small for ts *huff*#hope my ramblings make enough sense to y'all bc i got a headache #proship #proshippers please interact #profic #proship please interact #profiction #anti anti #pro ship #pro fic #🏁🎸

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