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aikoiya · 3 months

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Hello there with a (long) vampire question about weakness (mostly about WOD vampire weakness but with a couple of other vampire weaknesses).

Can you please tell me your opinion on these vampire weaknesses (beside the common ones like sunlight or fire because it very common)

a stake to the heart which paralyzes them

their power depends on the amount of blood (vitae) they have which depletes when used

holy item like crucifixes or holy water, but only in the hand of a true believer

they have an id (the part of the mind in which innate, instinctive impulses and primary processes are manifest.) called the beast which compels them to feed or cause a frenzy ( go on a blood rage to feed which is a bad thing because it causes a masquerade breach)

do a torpor (do a deathlike stasis) upon taking deathlike damage, while looks like a good thing, it is a bad idea when a hunter who knows what happens when a vampire truly dies looks like and has a fire weapon.

(from Vampire the Requiem) grow more powerful when older, while sounds like a good thing when vampires get more powerful, the type of blood they need to feed on changes from being able to just live on animal blood like a rat, to human blood, to finally having to drink vampire blood to survive (which is not allowed by vampire society) which is why vampire willingly go to torpor to weaken themselves, also sunlight affect them faster).

And of course saving the best for the last, surprise shotgun blast to the head (even better if the shotgun round is fire-based like dragon breath or heat slug).

also, do you think it funny that there is so much conflicting lore about how to kill a vampire that when some hunter has to kill a powerful vampire they use everything as overkill (like kill and dismember the vampire, burn the body, mix the ash first with holy water and concrete, separate the concrete into ice cube trays, and dump the cube into the sewers) just to be sure.

Actually, I do find it very interesting.

Something to add onto that? I'd like to think that a Palo Santo stake through the heart specifically would, if not kill them outright, would at least hurt a heck of a lot worse.

The True Believer stipulation is also interesting because it suggests that part of what gives it power might be the believer's actual belief. Though, I feel like this would only extend to the crucifix thing. (Meaning that holy water or holy oil would work regardless.) Like, I don't think that God told us to start carrying around crosses. So, in a way, you could call it sort of like "faith training wheels." Which honestly sounds kinda sacrilegious when I think about it. Last thing I ever want is to take the Father lightly. But, if it is a case of true faith equals bad times for blood suckers, then wouldn't someone, like... super mature in the spirit, not even need one? Can you imagine that? Some priest dude is just sitting there, super chill, & this jerk vamp comes up to him & tries to take his blood, but guys' like, "sit down, son." And the vamp feels the weight of just being glanced at by THE One that you do NOT want to mess with. Like, is it bad that I'd find that cool? Though, I think this sort of thing would only work on a vamp that was evil.

Because, what if a vamp was a True Believer? Like, they didn't choose to be turned. It was forced on them & even now, they continue to have faith. In such a situation, I imagine that... I dunno. I don't think the holy oil or holy water or the faith of a True Believer would harm them.

The vitae one makes sense because if you hungry, you ain't doing too hot.

The thing about eventually needing to feast on Vampire blood legit sucks, though. Like, great idea for a caveat to be placed in the small print of a contract. Doesn't jive with my hc... Unless one becomes a vamp through bootleg means... but anyway!

Ah! Gotta love a surprise sawdoff to the dome! Classic.

And with fire? Ooo!

A couple of things I'd add, though? Garlic still works, but not because it physically hurts them unless they eat it themselves (which would result in more of an extreme allergic reaction). More in the "oh, heavens, the heck is that stink coming from" sort of way. Like, not just the fart stink. The "oh my gosh, my eyes are watering & I need to vacate the area asap" sort of way. So, Italian cities are actually really cool for those looking to chill out on the whole vamp hunting thing. Like, you get enough people to start cooking with garlic in one area & it's like a scene outta Exodus.

But I also think that other, similarly strong, vegetable-y smelling veggies would also work, though maybe not quite as well. Durians, too, maybe. Though, only garlic would result in such a bad reaction upon eating it.

Another would be dead man's blood working as a sort of temporary off-button. At least, from what I remember.

#wod #world of darkness #vampires #vampire the requium

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morgana-ren · 4 years

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Im. I love you? Your answer to that ask is beautiful, also I forgot about the other meaning for weed for a moment and got confused like, 'is morgana-ren a stoner? Beefy weed muscles???' and now i cant help but imagine stoned Shiggy. Specifically him forcefully shotgunning his captive because hes bored and if hes getting stoned she might as well too. Laughing at her when she gets spacey. This is a fun train of thought lol, thanks for inspiring it

I am a ridiculous and incoherent person. My first instinct is to literally reply with complete gibberish to most things. Shaming me has absolutely Z E R O effect because I have no shame. I’m a ridonkulous person. Last time I got high, I just laid in bed singing “Secret tunnel, secret tunnel” for like 3 hours.

To be fair, I would also do that completely buttfuck sober.

Gods I wish I had a gif of Shig smonkin some donk wods, but since I don’t, you’ll have to settle for me writing it.

PSA after the fact: I AM SO SORRY IT GOT A LIL CREEPY BUT TO BE FAIR, IT’S ME AND IF YOU SENDIN ME SHIT YOU KNOW YOU HAVE TO BE REAL FECKIN’ SPECIFIC OR ELSE I’M GUNNA MAKE IT CREEPY also weed hits me way different than it does most folks so it’s really hard for me to be able to accurately describe how it might be to anyone else. SO imagine this is supervillain quirky weed he has special made to calm his...uh,.. never ending rage. also it’s ridiculously longer than I planned. cause I get carried away. anyway love you!

His room is dank and smells like mold and must.

Tight metal bindings cut into your wrists, leaving you raw with crusted blood despite the fact you stopped fighting days ago. Your tailbone feels bruised from constantly shifting on his worn down carpet, your legs prickling and aching from inactivity.

He’s kept you bound here for a while, handcuffs looped through the foot of his bed. You’re not entirely sure how long, since his ratty blackout curtains make it hard to see daylight. He’s got them taped down, blocking out all but the tiniest slivers of light. Like most of his life, his room exists in total darkness.

Time has little meaning here.

He doesn’t leave you alone often, only really exiting the room to bring you food which you refuse to eat. Most of it has been kicked into the corner, the soft buzz of fruit flies accumulating more and more by the day. It frustrates him, but he’s keen on reminding you that he’s patient. You’ll relent eventually.

Truth be told, your willpower is starting to give. Your body is stiff and sore, head perpetually aching from crying. His moods are like whiplash, one second crooning to you how special you are to him, the next backhanding you and calling you a stubborn bitch. You don’t know what he wants from you. If the fates were merciful, he’d get it over with and just kill you.

Ending your life doesn’t seem like it’s high on his list of priorities.

He’s facing away from you now, tinkering with something on his desk by the light of his various computer monitors. You can’t make out what it is, only that he’s been at it for the past ten minutes. Grateful as you are for his lack of attention, it always makes you nervous when he gets preoccupied. It usually means he’s working on some new and exciting way to break you.

You take comfort in the momentary peace, some temporary reprieve from the invasive leer of those horrid crimson eyes scanning over you in the darkness. Whatever he’s doing, there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Only steel yourself against what he gives you when he’s finished.

He reaches into his desk, pulling out a plastic bag of something you can’t make out. All you know is when you hear the ziplock open, a strange scent floods the room. It smells vaguely familiar, but between your fucked up headspace and even worse situation, you can’t really bring yourself to care.

Leaning against the little metal bed leg you’re imprisoned against, you realize just how heavy your eyes are as you rest the back of your head on his threadbare mattress. Fighting off oncoming waves of pulsing anxiety takes most of your energy reserve, and bouts of sleep tend to come few and far between when you’re sleeping in the den of a predator.You’re so tired, so worn down, and you don’t know what else he could do to you that he hasn’t already done or planning to do. It would be a lie to say you hadn’t considered saying that to him, but you feel like tempting the universe or him isn’t a great idea right now. Either way, your eyelashes feel like weights dragging you under into the sea of sleep.

You’re almost there when his chair squeaks and you jolt awake, that overwhelming sense of dread coming over you. Your instincts blare and somehow you just know his eyes are on you again, waiting for you to acknowledge him. He wants your attention, and he expects you to give it.

Dragging your exhausted lids open when you know you’ll have to see that terrifying man is a burden you haven’t grown accustomed to having quite yet, but it’s one you bear anyway. Besides, you know that if he thinks you’re ignoring him, he has no problem forcing you to look at him. It’s easier to just give him what he wants. He hurts you less that way.

So you do, and just like you expected, he’s simpering down at you, holding something you can’t make out in his hands. Gulping comes on impulse; he looks far too pleased and that never bodes well for you.

“Do you know what this is?”

He holds it out and it takes you a second to make it out in the dark, but you know that basic shape.

“I-is that a pipe?”

“At least you know that much.” He gives you a cheeky lip quirk, making heat rise in your cheeks. Palming it in one hand, he uses the other to fish in his pocket, one finger carefully pulled outside the kangaroo pouch of his jacket. Following his movements, your brows furrow and curiosity almost wills you to speak. The words stall in your mouth, however, when you see him pull a cheap lighter out between two fingers.

He flicks it a few times with his thumb, sparking the light and sending small cinders dancing across the his lap. After a few tries, it finally holds. The light across his face only makes him seem all the more sinister, exacerbating the shadows that reside in the craggy, marred flesh of his cheeks. The flame dances in his pupils and the orange tinged shine glimmers off the edges of his weirdly perfect, jagged teeth. It’s extremely unsettling.

He lets the flame die, picking his pipe back up and tapping it on the desk once or twice.

“I don’t do this often. I usually prefer to keep a clear head.” He lazily arches back in his chair, inhaling the dank stench of the sticky green plant packed in his pipe before returning his gaze to you. “But in some cases, I find it can help you relax.”

Bringing the pipe to his face, he wraps his chapped lips around the bit and sparks the lighter again. You watch as the flame is sucked toward the bowl, igniting the contents and bringing them to a dull simmer.Thumb twitching on the carb and pinkie pulled away, he inhales, letting his head lull back on the seat of his chair. After a few seconds and a suppressed cough or two, he leans forward and exhales, sending a splay of thick, billowing smoke directly into your face.

You turn your head, watery eyes clinging shut, but it’s not enough to keep the acrid stench from clogging through your sinuses. It constricts your throat, compelling an instinctive cough from deep in your chest. Whatever it is he’s smoking, it’s strong.

His high pitched laugh echoes off the barren walls of his room as you scrunch your nose and try to disperse the smoke pooled in your face. When the air finally clears, he’s leaning toward you, arms resting on his knees with the pipe in one hand and his lighter in the other. The little embers still burn beneath the lip of the bowl, little grey spirals rising up from the still burning plant clusters.

He holds it out to you (as if you could take it with your hands restrained behind your back), hyena-grinning as you scowl up towards him.

“You should try a little. It might make you a little more-” Pausing, he pretends to be in thought. More mockery, you really wish you were desensitized to it by now. “-friendly.”

“I would have been friendly if you hadn’t kidnapped me like some sort of psychopath!”

He rolls his eyes at your outburst, languidly pushing himself off of his dilapidated computer chair and crouching down next to you instead. You know better than to kick at him, he won’t hesitate to break your legs to keep you in line. All you can do is stare at him nervously as he shakes his shaggy pale hair out over his forehead, still sporting that unnerving expression. His scarlet eyes burn arguably brighter than fire from the pipe, and exponentially more threatening.

He moves a little closer into your space, bringing the piece back up to his lips and lighting it up once again. He takes a deep inhale this time, even deeper than the first. Chest puffed and breath held, his lanky arm reaches out back behind him places the still-burning pipe back on the desk, gaze never leaving yours.You figure he’s going to blow it in your face again, either to be annoying or to try and give you some sort of shitty second rate high to make you more malleable.

It’s obnoxious, but not even close to the worst thing he’s done to you.

Yet, his cold, dry fingers grab at your jaw, forcing you to keep your attention on him. A chipped nail from his thumb prods at your lower lip and you realize he wants you to open your mouth. You could tell him to go fuck himself, but that only gives him what he wants, if only for a moment. Instead, you choose to glower at him.

If looks could kill, he would probably keel over, but unfortunately you live in a world where he has the upper hand. He squints at you, something you know would be equally as furious as your own grimace if his features had the freedom to express it. The fingers on your chin clamp down, digging into your soft skin in a bruising grip. The more you defy him, the more he punishes you, and his large hands have more than the power they need to cause you pain.

Eventually you feel your jaw start to crack. You try to hold out, try to stay your ground, but it becomes too much. Between his brutal strength and your already weakened condition, it’s no use fighting him on something he really wants.

You open your mouth, if only to cry in pain, and he immediately crashes his lips against yours.Teeth clack as you try to shake him off, but it’s too late. He’s breathing his air into your lungs, caustic mixture of the taste of the weed and the bitter scent of his breath swirling deep inside you. You try to heave it back at him, but the damage is done. Smoke barely seeps from the tiny cracks he allows between your faces, and your need to breathe is stronger than your ability to fight, so eventually, you relent.

You gulp the air he gives you down, just wanting him to get the fuck away from you. You can feel his lips quirk in a smile as you fight the urge to spit up from the foul scent of his exhale, ripped and bloodied lips scratching against yours. Eventually when he does pull away from you, you go into a hysterical coughing fit and between your bouts, you can hear him cackle.

You finally manage to calm yourself, but whatever it is he’s made you inhale, it’s strong. Stronger than anything you’re used to. Even second hand, your head is already humming, and you can feel your chest tighten against your will.

“You feel it, don’t you?” High pitched giggling and a weirdly gentle brush of a hand across your buzzing, swollen cheek. You go to swat him off, hissing in pain when the metal edge round holding you back cuts into an already existing cut. “Soon you won’t have any fight left in you at all.”

He leaves you alone for a minute, door clicking behind him. You catch your breath in his absence, eyes scanning your surroundings. You look for something, anything he has left within your reach that you can use to escape. It’s what you do during the exceedingly brief moments he’s not around, and so far, it hasn’t yielded any results, but you refuse to give up.

The curtains likely mean that there’s presumably a window behind there. If you can just get free, you might be able to jump out. Problem is you’re stuck with your hands restrained behind you on a metal bed post. It doesn’t matter how much you kick and scream, no one ever comes, so it’s probably safe to say whoever is below or above you doesn’t give a shit. You need to get out of these cuffs.

He smokes, at least occasionally. He’s probably got a bobby pin around here for scraping. If he’s anything like your mates, they probably litter the floor. To be fair, even if you get one, you don’t really know what to do with it. You could try your hand at lockpicking?

Heh. Hand. Get it? Cause all those hands?

Focus.

The biggest problem right now is the handcuffs. Technically, you could get out of them, but you’d have to disjoint your fingers to do it, which takes away from your already pathetic chances at escaping. It hurts to move your wrists, let alone yank on them. Why the fuck did this asshole have handcuffs anyway? Unless he’s doing some kinky shit in his down time. You wouldn’t put it past him, he’s obviously a weird guy. He seems like the type to be into some dirty stuff. You don’t know who with, but there’s probably villain fuckers out there he could find and take advantage of. Gross.

You audibly laugh.That’s funny.That’s really funny. You don’t know why, but the thought makes you giggle uncontrollably. Your mind refuses to stay on track.

Fucking focus!

Somewhere far away, you hear the door open and his heavy footsteps off to the side of you. Too late. You’re still laughing.

“Hey Shigaraki-”

He’s leaning down next to you, fucking with something behind you. Your hands. He’s messing around your hands. He’s cold. Why are his hands always so goddamn cold? Is that why he’s a villain? Cold hands? That would make you a villain too.

Your head feels several sizes too big, and you can’t help but think about how he smells like dust. Everything feels slow. You can feel your heart pumping. You can hear it too.

“-You should like, just let me go.That would be kinda cool. My hands hurt.”

You don’t notice they aren’t even cuffed anymore, or that he’s scooping you up in his arms and gently placing you on his bed.

“Don’t try to fight, now. You need a tolerance to before it’ll feel normal. You’ll only hurt yourself, and that would be such a shame.”

You can tell he’s mocking you again, but you just chortle because the words are processing like a slurry. The back of your head feels so soft. It’s definitely not the awful metal he’s made you crick your neck on the past little while. He’s touching your arms and it tickles. Flashes of his face play in your mind a little slower than they’re probably actually happening. It’s terrifying, but the fear doesn’t register. You wanna touch his face. You bet it feels funny.

You can hear the click of handcuffs again, and you know he’s cuffed you once again (so rude), just somewhere new now. Your fingers grip and you feel metal bars. A bed frame. Again. Uuugh. You kick your feet a little and they bounce off the mattress. Bouncy.

There’s a weight shift near your feet, and before you can really understand what’s happening, he’s on top of you, face hovering less than an inch above yours. Your cheeks are burning as his flaxen hair tickles and curtains you, and no matter how hard you want to, you can’t stop staring at his eyes. They’re so fucking intense you swear they scorch you. Like an abyss, you feel yourself being swallowed inside them as they stare long into you. Hate. Rage. So much embodied negativity you can practically feel it. Panic blooms in your chest but your body is reacting too slow. All you can do is squirm.

“Shh-” He’s caged your head in his arms, and his breath is glossing your cheek, just as sour as before but somehow you know what’s about to happen is much worse than forcefully smoking you out. “This’ll be much better for you if you relax and give in. Who knows? You could even enjoy it.”

He grinds his clothed pelvis into yours, and while somewhere inside your head, sirens are blaring, all your body can process is pressure against your most sensitive area. You whine, and he takes the opportunity to press his lips to yours again. Your mouth is slack and moist, so it’s nice and easy for him to slide his slimy, disgusting tongue down your throat. With your brain short circuiting from both shock and whatever he’s made you consume, your body doesn’t have enough control over its facilities to fight back.

He kisses you long and hard, if you can call whatever he’s doing to you kissing. It’s more like he’s trying to devour you. Sloppy, wet, and possessive, like he’s trying to choke you with his essence. It could have been a minute. It could have been hours. You don’t know.

When he does finally pull away, you can feel your stomach lurch as he laps at the string of spit that connects you to him, but you only blink your eyes wearily despite your extreme bodily reaction. You feel sleepy, or more accurately, your eyelids feel kinda heavy. Really heavy. Something visceral is telling you to stay awake, to keep fighting, but you just can’t. You can hear yourself speak but you don’t even know what you’re saying. You don’t remember.

“You’re cute like this, all spacey and stupid.” He flicks your forehead and your eyes flicker back open, but only briefly. “I guess it hit you kinda hard, huh? Sorry about that. I should have warned you. It must’ve slipped my mind.”

He presses his mouth to yours again, a little softer this time. You’re almost out at this point, everything feels so heavy. So sluggish. You barely feel his long, thin fingers glide slowly up your shirt.

“I think you could come to like it here with me if you stop being stubborn. But that’s okay. I forgive you. Like I told you before. I’m patient. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

#Shigaraki #Shigaraki x Reader #tw implied noncon #drugging???#slight somnophilia #kidnapping #sorry weed actually hits me different than it hits other people #and when I tried to do research on how to accurately portray it they basically said you cant lmao #HE GETS YOU HIGH AS FECK BOI #It's special villain quirk weed dont ask lmao #this ended up ridiculous #just like me #it's doing that thing again where it cuts off the read more JUST under the ask #will someone send me a picture for how it shows up on your dash? Am I the only one seeing this?

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theaetherhealerffxiv · 5 years

Text

Amaurot Days

FFXIV Oneshot: OC Based Fanfiction [Wol-verse]

Rating: Rated M please, its smut. If you are under age dont read please.

Pairings: Wol x Emet-Selch/Hades

WoL/Wod is NB with female leaning [you/yours/etc]

Summary: You want to congratulate Hades on his new office.

Word Count: 1898

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he lounged in the chair. A satisfactory hum greeted you as the tired man rolled his head to gaze up at you. “I hear congratulations are in order.” You say with a giggle, gently placing your lips on his forehead. Feeling him grunt as your mask bumped the skin leaving a little red mark.

“Yes,” Hades muttered reaching up and snatching the mask from your face, pausing to take in your visage. “I see that the gossip has reached you.” Throwing the white mask he reached up and dug his hand into the hair that hid behind your hood, pulling you down to kiss him. It was slightly awkward with the angle you two where at, but you kissed regardless. The kiss was rather chaste for what you wished to give him but after a moment you two broke apart and you walked to a table that had caught your eye when you came in. On it, a red mask. Lifting it up you fingered it gently; you could feel your lovers eyes burning with anticipation.

“There was no other proper candidate for this position.” You placed the mask back down to turn and look at Hades, his golden eyes, his white hair, your heart swelled and you smiled. “I am so proud of you.” He rolled his eyes, looking away and placing a hand on his mouth to hide the smile while his other waved that silly little wave he always did. “But!” You put your hands on your hips bringing those gold eyes to stare at you again. “I wish you had come to tell me!!” You did wish that he had come to tell you, instead leaving your coworkers at the Hall of Rhetoric, and your mutual friend Hythlodaeus to tell you. You watched as he sighed and leaned back in the chair, clearly more exhausted than you expected him to be. Your love was always fond of naps, but this seemed like a different kind of exhaustion.

“I wished to keep you from producing one of your, squeals, that you do. In public at least.” He muttered the last part and looked away again, once again your heart swelled as you saw a soft blush creep across his cheek bones. You strode over, heaving your robes off and throwing yourself on his lap. Hades quickly adjusted his position to allow you to straddle him, he sighed and placed his hands on your hips as you sat and tilted his chin up. “Yes, my Soul.” Hades muttered as you caressed his face and gently brushed your thumbs over his dark circles.

“You look so tired Hades…” You mutter concerned. Hades shifted, clearly a little bothered by your position. You ignored it in favor of trying to get the man to talk to you. He tried to distract you by rubbing circles on your silk shirt. You frowned and held his face so that he had to look at you.

He sighed with defeat. “Hythlodaeus needed my help with something. I had to change, for it.” Hades sighed again as he saw you frown. “My Soul, it was needed. I needed to do what he asked of me.” He reached up and cupped your cheek as you leaned forward pouting a little. “I used more magic than I calculated. I will be fine with rest.” He leaned up and forward to kiss you again pulling you forward with a groan.You pulled away a little and he whispered your name before letting his shoulders heave a little.

“You do not want to rest do you?” You tilted your face, which was still close to his and kissed his lips lightly, then you began to pepper kisses across his face, pushing back is hair to plant kisses on his forehead too.

A hum was rewarded to you as he shifted to hold you closer. “Nay, I do not. I want to celebrate with my Soul.” Hades muttered a small smile crossed his lips. “You know, Hyhlodaeus said my other form was impressive…” The man teased as you pressed kisses to his lips.

“He always does my love.” You tilted his head up and gently bit down his neck causing him to moan your name. “Now, you said you wanted to celebrate yes? Should I create some food?” You where being a tease at this point, you knew what Hades wanted, as you two had been working non-stop for days. Originally the two of you thought that you could resist touching each other, or needing to copulate. You were wrong, you wanted him as much as he wanted you. Golden eyes hooded he gazed at you, pulling himself up straight and yanking you down to press his lips against yours. His hips ground against yours, his hands found easy purchase in your thin shirt. No more talking, was what this told you. Part of you was a little disappointed, you had wanted to tease him more. Suddenly you gasped, dark wings appeared wrapping around you as Hades snapped his fingers, relieving both you and him of clothing. “Hades!” You scolded, but was only rewarded with him lifting you up and striding over to the bed you two shared.

“Yes, my Soul?” He asked, the wings dissipating into nothing. You gently slapped his now bare chest.

“There is no need to manifest your other self here.” You glared at him, even as his hands began to touch you, as he moved your legs so that he could press his erection against you. You shivered as you felt the warmth of his body against yours.

“But, it was impressive.” Hades murmured as he kissed your neck, biting and sucking ruthlessly. Internally you thanked that your robes would cover them.

“You are impressive, to me in either for Hades.” He lifted his head as you spoke and kissed you, telling you ‘I know my Soul’. You bucked your hips into his and he caught them with a groan. Then moving to press your hands to his back you breathed evenly as you allowed your magics to mingle with his. Now that you two where close you could sense that he had used quite a bit. The least you could do is replenish it a little. He shivered and shifted his hips, muttering your name as a prayer as he slid into your slick heat. Your eyes nearly rolled back into your head as you felt him do so, the pleasure of the two of your magics mingling and the physical connection caused you too to moan his name. He shivered in your arms and buried his face into your shoulder, his breath taken away as you let your magic flow slowly stop. Once it did he sighed.

“Part of me wishes you would never stop doing that,” Hades muttered nipping at your shoulder again. “By creation I do not know how you do that.”

You giggled, “I have told you! I developed it specifically for you. Which is why I refuse to go to the Bureau to get it cataloged.” Hades shifted in your arms to raise up on his elbows, his gold eyes searching yours, before letting his hips gently pump into you. Letting your lips pop into a O. He smirked above you.

“By creation,” He hissed. “It has only been a few days but it feels like it has been eons.” You bucked your hips into his and one of hands caught your hips stilling you. “Not yet my Soul.” Hades moaned, “You will know when we can throw ourselves into such passions.”

“Hades,” You wined. “Why do you want to take this so slow?” Usually the two of you would fall into the will of your bodies quickly, but tonight was truly a crawl. He shifted to look at you leaning into one of his hands, while the other, that had been on your hip, was now roaming your body touching and groping you. He did not answer you, but you stared into the heat of his eyes with confusion. Hades has always been a bit of a mysterious figure to you, and the whole of your friend group. You had fallen for him quickly, and he you. Originally he had said it was something about your soul, that there was something connecting yours and his. You could not see what he did, so you could not understand. Your hands, still on his back slid down and gently kneaded his rear. His eyes fluttered as he pressed further into you, your legs gently falling open more to allow him access. “Hades,” You breathed and he, now playing with your nipple, hummed opening his eyes again to look down at you. You frowned, causing him to pause. “Emet-Selch.” You said, testing the name on your lips. He frowned now.

“No, to you I am Hades. Only ever Hades my Soul.” He growled pressing his lips to yours, and you knew it, that was the catalyst. His hips began pumping unabated, and you tried to keep pace. You felt your magic gently pouring into him again, and then, his into you. You moaned against his lips loudly as the pleasure began to mount deep in your belly. It was a fire, and you knew, and felt his. The passion continued hands sliding against skin trying to memorize bodies that the two of you already knew. Until suddenly you two stilled, the pleasure snapping rippling like unabated magics. His name tumbled from your lips as yours fell from his. He shook violently as his strength left him, but he did not wish to fall on you and crush you. Panting you caressed his cheek as he slowly settled on top of you again. Still inside of you he gently pressed loving kisses to your lips.

“You will forever be mine Hades,” You whisper. “Forever, this soul of mine is yours.”

“Yes,” He breathed as he rolled to have you on top of him, snapping once more a blanket landed atop of you two. Shifting so that you were no longer connected physically you sighed at the mess he created. Hades looked at you with a smirk. “I can magick it away my Soul,” He whispered but you shook your head.

“No,” You curled up against him. “It is a welcomed mess.”

The bliss of sleep took the two of you swiftly.

------

“Why are you staring at me Ascian.” You growl as Emet-Selch watched you carefully, his golden eyes almost looking, hurt.

“Nothing, Hero.” He snaps back before reaching out and catching your arm, you frown, it had caused the entire party to stop.

“Nothing? Then why, pray tell, are you grabbing my arm -” You froze as you saw his golden eyes stare at you, his hair went stark white and he looked younger for a moment. A name crossed your mind, quickly, Hades? Something other than the light struggled against you. It reached out to the Ascian with such force you began to panic and ripped your arm from his grasp. Turning quickly back to the Scions you clutched your chest in an attempt to hide your sudden stress.

You left the Ascian there, his hand slowly falling. “You are there.” His words quickly taken away by the wind. Emets hand shook as he looked at it, shock, you were there.

#i need to get back in the swing of writing emet #but this was rather fun if possibly ooc?#young emet is a personality that eludes me currently #ffxiv fanfic #ffxiv fanfiction #emetxwol #Remember Me [emetxwol]#wol x emet-selch #wol x hades #wol x solus von glavus #solus von glavus

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desertdragon · 5 years

Text

I wrote this for myself originally because I have Feelings; but then it started feeling also up @symphcnii ‘s alley-here’s for being cool

Presenting Renda-Rae, proud Ghost Mom of one dumbass WoL bc me and my friend can’t stop joking about Vaste being helpfully haunted (also if you’re sensitive on spoilers there’s vague passing reference to who turned the WoDs into Sin Eaters; I don’t name drop but Still)

2000+

———

Renda-Rae had always known a quick wit and playful tongue. Were fate kinder in life she’d have made a dazzling entertainer. Ardbert himself couldn’t count the times her unrivaled hearing caught the timing for scathing banter. To no one’s surprise then as they hovered she exclaimed,

“By everything look at her, the fool- the utter fool! Nice ones always lack a bit of sense.”

Below in the ordered paths of Limsa Lominsa stood their charge. Amidst the white stone streets that blinded under the sun her blue hair was a beacon. They watched Vaste ponder over a selection of tabards. Watched her carelessly ask to try them all- sighed when few fit.

There were mere seconds before Renda sighed; and Ardbert knew it would be a day he’d not soon forget. She wouldn’t let him. The first notes of a frustrated tune played on the lyre built into the Artemis Bow. Her fingers remained as nimble as when they were flesh. He listened with shut eyes. It was something she’d played long ago; nothing of its name remained in him now. Regardless in this moment he knew she was scrutinizing, thinking.

“No matter how you pout she cannot see us. Not on The Source.”

“So now my ire is a wasted effort is it? You should be shocked too to find the one you witnessed kill an Ascian can barely read. Or has much common sense.”

The strumming on her lyre grew agitated. Ardbert shook his head and made for their charge. His shout carried above the sailing winds.

“We’ve not been here longer than a bell; don’t gnaw her to pieces just yet!”

Renda sucked her teeth and strung the Artemis on her back. She followed after, within a minute’s span they touched ground. From all sides they came; couples, families, children, hawking merchants and scarred adventurers. A sea of faces to open the locks on her distant memories.

The white stone beneath her feet could well have been the cliffs at Kholusia. Beneath the sunlight’s glare the differences melted. It could well have been the white ooze she’d watched a boulder of a man force inside her corpse. How she’d screamed bloody murder intangible above him; how he’d forced it next upon her friends one by one-

“If you linger we’ll lose her. Make haste lest we overstay our visit fumbling about.”

“...Right, sorry.”

Ardbert moved among the crowds as though he might still meld into them; even as they passed through him. He’d had a century of practice. She trailed cautiously behind, each step poorly dodging one person to be passed by another. Each new phase through her body left an unnerving tingle; something almost tangible again only to be broken by reality. She thought she might understand those who’d lost limbs. Long ago had she thrown herself from flesh, remained now an exile of Man for Man’s sake.

Finding him in his distinctive armor and silhouette was child’s play. Ahead a few paces Vaste continued on her way. They followed on bridges of all sizes and practicalities. A winding staircase that left her a tad woozy brought them before a port. Around them wafted the sea breeze and endless waters broken by ships. They were united by a wish to re-imagine the last time either had known unique sensations such as these.

She’d only begun to tune her keen ears when she spotted a debacle. Vaste stood jabbering on fish with a Lalafell accustomed to a day’s labor. Renda’s ears shot straight up as she hissed.

“Her shirt is on backwards! You’d think someone would tell her.”

Fueled by purpose Renda strut up to her. Useless as it was she poked insistently like a nagging mother. At least, that’s the sense Ardbert felt. He dared not mention it in the moment. Instead he stifled a laugh, which may well have been worse.

Vaste stood seemingly oblivious to the inspection she’d already failed. Renda enunciated every word.

“Your.shirt.is.on.the.wrong.way.”

The effect was instant. Their hapless savior tensed straight pole in her posture. Her tail stuck straight up in alarm; her ears flit helplessly. Sisipu’s pleasant chat paused and while her tiny stature prevented seeing all the signs, she knew stress in the same breath as casting her line.

There came worried questions and exclamations; Vaste startled and stepped further away. A bug eyed look that spoke a thousand more words than she said controlled her. Renda retreated to Ardbert’s side. Her hands on her hips she shook her head curtly. She shrugged after Ardbert lightly jabbed her side.

Their walk soon continued. If Vaste truly hadn’t been aware of the eyes on her back, now she dreaded. They felt her eyes begin to shift every so often; she seemed to inspect twice anything she passed. More than a handful of times they tread and retread city paths in winding alleys and wide streets.

“She’s thorough at throwing off pursuers- color me impressed. I’d do much the same.”

“There was little need for it when we journeyed together. All the same she’s dependable as they come.”

Ardbert grinned and though they’d once been separated a century she knew his habits down to her bones.

“A lot like you my friend.”

“Still the flatterer I see.” She replied tugging down her hat to smile.

The meaningful silence between them shattered in the deserted road bend behind The Hyaline. Vaste had pulled her shirt off halfway before they threw their hands over their eyes. Together they shrieked as Vaste turned her shirt inside the proper way.

“What was that again about her heroics in Norvrandt?! I may follow you in death Ardbert but for the gods sake did the Light take her mind too?”

“I know a man mustn’t stare but the both of you are women! The embarrassment is less-“

“That counts for naught, I’ve courted men and women in equal measure; this one however is not someone I want to see in small-clothes!”

Eventually in a silent agreement Renda was the one to peek between her fingers. Vaste was once again dressed. The inner hem of her spring shirt no longer showed; but now she stared in their direction. Renda jabbed Ardbert who dropped his hands. They both stood utterly still like some improper standoff.

The hardened suspicious look on Vaste’s face fell away. Her ears flit searching for the noise; for voices long thought lost. Any edge to her face softened to near hopeful tears.

“...Ardbert?”

The ocean breeze answered. Her voice wavered and dropped.

“And Renda-Rae...no I must be imagining. I should eat before hunger drives me mad.”

Stuck on old habits they breathed a sigh of relief. In an unspoken thankfulness the final leg of their journey brought them nearby. The Bismarck’s sails were untouched by the wind above it’s outdoor dining patio.

It came as no surprise for them when a waiter greeted Vaste with reverence. Just as respectfully she bypassed the wait list to be seated. Though they didn’t need to they sat themselves opposite her. They mused over the dazzling blue waters beneath the grey and white cliffs. By their poor arithmetic which they soon abandoned they guessed such a place cost well past five hundred Gil. Per plate. Renda groaned.

Conversation waned. Instead they gave Vaste a once over. She’d taken to resting her face in her palm; her finger tapped steadily. She too stared out into the blue below. Whenever they’d met they’d clashed in battle. If not for her ferocious mask of fury then, the aftermath revealed profound weariness. It was not the kind from mere toil. To the moment Renda gave Minfilia the last of her soul that face had lingered. An exhaustion at the hands of a battered world.

Despite her antics she saw traces of it emerging. Vaste had grown quieter than quiet; her emotions coiling in herself. The spirit in her eyes swamped beneath her thoughts. Though she was the Warrior of Light she ate alone. She separated herself as protection from a realm that’d already pedestaled her above it.

“Doesn’t she remind you of me, Ardbert? Of that foolish self burdening I touted.”

“I may have chided you then but in truth...we’ve all brought that task upon ourselves. One method or another. Though there is always hope, it is a cycle.”

A pause. Renda felt Ardbert’s gaze upon her.

“Why did you want to see her?”

Renda answered without hesitation.

“When we were all turned, made Eaters all but you. Our bodies were as scattered as what little conscious remained. The crystals we held so dear turned paler than death.”

Renda clenched her hands in her lap. Were they still skin they’d bleed. He leaned in staring at her hands then her face. Vaste had told him long ago the horrors in rediscovering his comrades. The longer he watched her in horror, the smaller he seemed.

“When we were lost and enslaved to not be ourselves- I thought my mind might go blank. That for everything I’d faced I’d truly die when I was a husk body and soul.”

Their eyes met and Renda’s voice quivered then stood firm.

“She came for me first. The most hesitant of us in the end. Saved only by the fear she gave me for you all. Me. I owe it to look after her for that.”

Frighteningly close to their ears came vigorous chewing. The tension snapped as their eyes bulged. No wonder they’d been allowed to give speeches- food disappeared at breakneck speed. There wasn’t time to admire a dish before it’s contents vanished. Renda’s brow twitched. Ardbert hid his face in his hand.

“And yet every time I compliment her she proves a bigger fool.”

One after another the plates piled; until they concealed her beneath them like an old forest. The time for words had been paused for stares of wonder and terror; both in equal measure. Akin to watching an animal feed behind a fenced enclosure.

“She’s going to be sick.” Renda finally whispered.

“Not a question of if but when.” Ardbert replied.

When the check arrived untold minutes later (it could’ve been an hour, a day, or eternity- they’d lost the mind to count) it’s contents were quickly waved away.

“Eorzea’s savior dines at no cost. A missive from Head Chef Lyngsath. We staff agree.”

“Nonsense. Besides it’s thanks to you all I learned civilized cooking. I owe Lyngsath for pitying some wide eyed foreigner.”

From her satchel she hefted a massive coin purse. Really it was one of several bags. She piled two onto the table. By the sound it was as if everyone but Vaste had the wind punched from their lungs. Quickly and with more cheer than anyone needed she ducked out; blocked further exclamations on her generosity.

Renda and Ardbert willed themselves after her. For a good minute they could talk only of the ridiculous scene. To their dismay and frustrated sighs their arithmetic again fell short.

“I feel as heavy as I did when we bar crawled in the old days. And I can no longer eat!” She said with noticeable exhaustion.

“Funny, if I remember well your stomach was second to Branden.”

“Was. If I suddenly could eat now an appetizer might put me to sleep. Just watching her made me remember throwing the bulk of it up piss drunk.”

Their oblivious chatter seemed to spill and rise around them like flood water. A century’s parting left them in greater reminiscence than elders. Vaste’s final stop pulled them from reverie. Her hair rose with the wind. Beneath their feet stood the great La Noscean cliffs. From the corner of his eye Ardbert saw Renda slink back. He rested his hand on her shoulder.

Green wild grass covered the hills the length of the coast. They sat together putting the waters ahead out of mind. It ceased to be a cliff if you ignored the edge. Above Vaste’s head Renda counted the clouds. The blue that made the sky stole her breath. It was blue, nothing more, not white. A sky a million miles from the bleakness lighting her forced undeath as a mindless monster.

Her ears twitched. Muffled sobbing stood out against the lapping waves. Vaste had hunched herself over; her hands balled at her sides. She let her shoulders shake at every hiccup in her cries. Without thinking Renda reached to get up. No use came of it when Vaste slunk on her knees.

“Is she...”

“No. No she wouldn’t.” Ardbert muttered with a breaking calm.

Together they rushed to her side. Reason with it’s grimness felled them back into reality. Their hands could touch nothing.

“Hey...hey...what’re you thinkin’?”

Renda liked to believe her voice broke through when Vaste quieted. She laid herself spread eagle on the ground. A breathy rasp spelled the last from her grieving. Her mind raced consumed by memories, by their faces; utterly hers and utterly alone.They knew the feeling well. An isolation that forever smoldered in men’s hearts.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry to each of you.”

“She thinks a part of me resents her.” Renda whispered if only for herself; to hear it aloud as real.

“That’s not true and she should know it.”

“It matters naught. In her mind it is truth.”

The day saw its first stretch where no one had heart for words. An eerie silence heavy with guilt sapped their spirit. The burden of wondering where to go eased at Vaste’s steady breathing. She’d fallen asleep. Now her face grew as gentle as a babe’s.

“Perhaps we should be going.”

“Not yet. There is one thing that may reach her. Even in her dreams.” Renda said.

She unslung the Artemis and rested it in her arms. With some positioning from muscle memory she tested the lyre strings. All in tune. Of course, it’d remained as she’d died wearing it. Ardbert softly gasped.

The distant nights illuminated by stars before a crackling fire returned at the notes. He blinked and heard their laughter, saw them pass drinks while Renda sang. In the next blink it disappeared like a dream. The play on her lyre continued as his tears dripped.

Light as a feather yet clearer than the ocean Renda sang. Dexterous even on the occasional stumble through a passage, she accompanied herself.

‘Walk not alone my friend

Run not from the approaching fen

For if you look to the stars and see

I shall ever guide thee

To home and valley beyond the bend

Ever and ever till we meet again’

On and on her verses poured forth. As though she’d never set the lyre down; as though the past lived now and into the future.

When the final note echoed Renda smiled hearing Vaste in deep sleep. Ardbert remained silent when she strode past. She clapped a hand on his shoulder. Her playful grin held unfathomable emotion beneath. If he let himself forget their battles and their merrymaking, she beguiled him into meeting her anew. Renda stared into the sky.

“It’s time for us to leave. At least for now, I’d love to hear how the others feel on visiting the living.”

“Wouldn’t it be meddling?”

“Meddling? No no. This world isn’t ours anymore; leave that for her generation. They’ll do better than us.”

The sun began falling from noon. A pair of silvery lights arced toward the clouds. Above her she could hear Ardbert concentrate his aether. She spared a look down at the dot among the green. With a ‘Hurmph’ she gave a two finger salute.

“Don’t worry about a thing kid.”

#writing #ffxiv writing #renda-rae #even dead Renda cant stop running into clownery #the soul is many; the heart is one

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levyowl · 5 years

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How Epic Mickey could fit into the Kingdom Hearts Universe so Oswald can get the Love and Attention he Deserves: The Text Post

Ok, so it’s been confirmed that Nomura really wants to add our favorite lucky rabbit into the KH universe, but for some reason, Disney told him getting the rights to Oswald would be ‘difficult’ for whatever reason. I know Oswald used to be owned by another party, but when Epic Mickey was being pitched, Disney bought back the rights, so they now own him fully. I’m not sure why Disney wouldn’t just let Nomura use him, seeing as they’re sure as hell aren’t.

As you can imagine, this is pretty sad. A surprising amount of people love Oswald, including myself. But it honestly got me thinking about how Epic Mickey could fit into Kingdom Hearts. They have some vague similarities, seeing as a lot of the older characters, such as Horace the Horse, make an appearance in both games, EM has some talk of hearts, but obviously, the rules of what a heart is is different in both games, etc.

So, as you can imagine, this was a bit of a challenge for me to think of, and this is going to be a long post. But I’ve been seriously reflecting on this topic for a while, so much so that I wrote this post on a Google Doc so I could properly get my thoughts together before I posted this.

Also, you never know if Disney could change their minds or Nomura goes through all the possible legal stuff and get Oswald into the game, so all of this could just me pointlessly screaming into the void, but I don’t care; I’m making this post. And keep in mind that this is what I personally would do with it. I am in no way a professional game director like Nomura, and if Oswald does make it into a KH game, it will probably be done better than my idea. Though keep in mind, my idea is kinda convoluted just like the rest of KH’s plot OOOOO lol jk. With all of that said:

All of this takes place between the events of BBS and KH1.

Disney Town and the world of EM are the same. Sorta (this will have to do with why Disney Castle is more pronounced in the overworld art in the timeline after BBS).

All the residents in EM live in DT.

Oswald is the Mayor of DT (Or at least the small town area we see in BBS).

We presumably don’t see him in BBS because he was too busy running the town in the background. Queen Minnie and Duchess Daisy were there to oversee the Dream Festival for him.

Oswald is personal best friends with King Mickey. Like, everyone jokes about them being brothers all the time.

After the events of BBS, we see Pete be freed from his prison by Maleficent. Right after this, Pete asks for help for immediate revenge on the residents.

Maleficent decides to completely destroy the world as you do.

More specifically, she wants to make the world fall to darkness and wipe the world and its residents from the minds of others (think of it like Xion’s disappearance)

Firstly, to get Pete further indebted to her so he’ll go along with her plans without question.

Second, if everyone forgets about Donald, Goofy, Minnie, and Mickey after they were to fall to darkness, then that’s several enemies she wouldn’t have to worry about anymore.

Thirdly, she could use the hearts of the residents to create a powerful army of Heartless.

The fourth reason was she was feeling particularly bitchy that day.

All the while, Yen Sid senses the sudden spike in darkness in DT.

He warns Mickey about Pete and Maleficent, but orders Mickey to stand back and observe for now, as he only just became a Keyblade Master and Yen Sid isn’t sure if he can take her on by himself.

But ofc Mickey goes back to DT with Yen Sid’s Star Shard to confront Maleficent anyway.

However, he’s too late; Maleficent’s already started the spell.

Mickey fights past Pete but can’t quite make it to Maleficent before she creates a portal in the sky straight to the World of Darkness.

The residents, including Oswald, start to get sucked into the portal. As this happens, Mickey starts to forget some of them. (Like how Roxas’ memories of Xion faded slightly before and after she ‘died’)

Just like Roxas, Mickey gets a bit of a power boost in a desperate attempt to stop Maleficent and remember Oswald.

Before they get completely sucked in, Yen Sid uses his magic to change the destination of the portal and quickly creates a small ‘pocket world’ in his tower within an enchanted scroll on his desk with magic paint and thinner ala the Fantasia world in DDD (I’m sure you can see where this is going).

However, due to the darkness of Maleficent’s spell and the fact he rushed to make it, the world he created was a dark and twisted version of DT.

And since the spell was to make the residents fall to darkness, they all lost their hearts. However, in the world Yen Sid made, time doesn’t exist (just like the WoD), so they don’t become Heartless/Nobodies; they’re stuck in-between the process.

They still have their emotions and memories, but without their hearts, they can’t leave the world.

Besides, even if they could, they would only become Heartless and/or Nobodies.

Mickey manages to use his Star Shard to transport himself, Pete, and Maleficent to the Keyblade Graveyard before she sucks in all the residents, but Oswald and the others who appear in EM are sucked in and forgotten.

Yen Sid, due to the trans-dimensional/spatial and magical properties of his tower, is the only one who remembers.

Considering that not even Maleficent remembers what happened now, she takes Pete and teleports away to do whatever she did between BBS and KH1 plan her revenge.

Mickey, confused as to why he’s suddenly in the Graveyard again, teleports back to the Mysterious Tower.

Yen Sid tells Mickey about what happened, but Mickey can’t help but feel a little detached since he can’t remember any of it.

However, when Yen Sid mentions Oswald, Mickey feels a sadness in his heart that he can’t quite explain. A single heart rolls down his cheek.

Yen Sid tells Mickey how he needs to go into the scroll and fix the world. He tells Mickey that he can’t fix the darkness from the outside, and how he can sense Heartless in the scroll.

Mickey grabs the paintbrush and dips it into the paint.

“What do you mean? Couldn’t we just use the paint and thinner to fix the problem here?”

“Mickey, don’t!”

Mickey, surprised by Yen Sid’s outburst, jumps back.

In the process, he accidentally knocks over the paint and thinner onto the scroll.

OhDearGodWhatHaveIDone.jpg

Mickey tries to wipe up the liquid puddle on the scroll, but it’s too late; Yen Sid tells Mickey that the damage is irreversible here on the outside.

With Mickey’s only option made clear, he jumps into the scroll.

From here, the events of EM play out pretty much the same, with some differences.

The real world references in EM are either completely missing or made a lot more subtle (things like the Walt Disney statue with Oswald are removed while small things in the levels are still there).

The Blotlings are a new type of Heartless instead of just monsters.

The magic paintbrush Mickey brings with him turns into the Epic Masterpiece Keyblade.

The “multiple Petes” in EM are animatronics this time, based off of other personas of the KH Pete (like Captain Justice and Captain Dark)

Characters like Smee who were in KH before while also in EM would just be animatronics.

The Donald, Daisy, and Goofy animatronics were made by Oswald to try and replicate their powers to protect them from the Heartless. This obviously failed.

The Mad Doctor was obsessed with experiments with the heart, like Xehanort before and during EM (tho obviously not as bad or as successful as he was).

Oswald and the Mad Doctor were working on these animatronics before Maleficent tried to wipe them out (The Donald, Daisy, and Goofy animatronics were incomplete before they were sucked in, hence why they’re so damaged in EM).

Oswald was named King of Wasteland in place of Mickey.

If everyone were to remember the residents, they could possibly get their hearts back.

The hurt and betrayal that Oswald felt in EM are not because Mickey got the spotlight and replaced him; he’s upset because Mickey, who was a brother for him, doesn’t remember him anymore. And even worse, he caused the Thinner Disaster.

At the end of EM, Mickey regains his memories of the residents and especially Oswald.

He wants to bring them out, but they can’t leave without their hearts.

Mickey is torn because he knows the Wastelands, while fixed for now, are still dangerous as the Heartless could possibly come back and the Mad Doctor is still on the loose.

But even if they could leave, bringing them back would possibly bring back everyone’s memories of them, including Maleficent’s, so it’s dangerous either way.

So Mickey does the next best thing he can think of: he bequeaths Oswald.

Since Oswald doesn’t have a heart, he couldn’t summon a Keyblade the natural way, so Mickey hands him the Epic Masterpiece Keyblade.

However, Mickey’s bond with Oswald was so strong that when he handed it to Oswald, his hearts reacts to it even though it’s so far away from Oswald’s body.

Basically, the bond and memories that Mickey shared with Oswald were strong enough to call to Oswald’s heart for the Keyblade to spring from.

It’s called the Lucky Remote Keyblade, (Obviously based off of his remote from EM2).

Mickey leaves Wasteland after promising to tell only those trustworthy about them.

Basically, only Mickey, Yen Sid, Donald, Goofy, Minnie, Daisy, Chip, and Dale remember the residents of Wasteland to any extent. They all keep the secret. (Mickey probably told Ventus, Aqua, Terra and the others about it after KH3.)

Donald treats it just like he treats the Order; if anyone even remotely hints at it, he scolds them like he does Sora.

EM2 is canon; all the previous notes apply. Those events take place before KH1 but obviously waaay after EM1 in the timeline (Ten years is more than enough time for both of these games to happen before KH1).

Well, there you have it! This post is way too long and I’m tired :’)

Maybe I’ll draw the Keyblades and my redesign for a KH! Oswald at some point, but this is more than enough for now.

#kingdom hearts #epic mickey #kh #this post is three pages long in a Google Doc I hope you appreciate my sacrifice lol #my idea #my concept #my post #levyowl

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crusaderjeziel · 6 years

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30 Days of WoW

Day 04 — Your favorite zone (Classic, BC, WotLK, Cata, MoP, WoD, Legion, & BfA)?

Classic: Feralas. Something about the misty air combined with the sky completely obscured by the tree canopies was appealing from the first moment I quested there. I can practically feel that zone, maybe even smell it -- warm and thickly humid breeding an earthy musk from the decay of foliage on the ground. I just love it.

Burning Crusade: Zangarmarsh. I really hate questing there, because questing sucks, but the way it looks is so cool. Enormous, towering mushrooms are so surreal to look at even now, years and years after the first time I saw them. The creatures are so cool and, some of them, borderline ethereal (fen striders, anyone?). I also love that it’s overrun with water. Was a pain to get through at one time, but now I can go there and just appreciate it for all it’s worth.

Wrath of the Lich King: This one is a tie between Grizzly Hills and Stormpeaks. Grizzly Hills has Grizzlemaw, which is probably my favorite place in the entire zone -- definitely my favorite place in Northrend for sure. It makes me want to go on a trip to the mountains, hole up in a nice, warm cabin, and sip hot toddies/Irish coffee/apple cider all day. The music there is so great, too. Sometimes I just... listen to it. It’s great writing ambiance.

Stormpeaks is just so... grand. It feels enormous, and it’s so shockingly white. I’m very slightly obsessed with Vrykul, too, and the fact that you get to bECOME ONE FOR A QUEST LINE is so damn dope.

Cataclysm: Uldum. I had more fun in this zone than I care to admit. The Harrison Jones quest line brought so much Indiana Jones nostalgia that I was laughing the whole way through it. The races/mobs introduced here are also maybe my favorite in the game, as well. (Ramkahen, pygmy, and Neferset.) (I added these because I’m assuming this list might just be old.)

Mists of Pandaria: Literally all of it. This is my favorite continent in the entire game. I can not pick a favorite. Don’t make me do it. Please... I’m begging you.

Warlords of Draenor: Shadowmoon Valley. It just seems so mystical, like a fever nightmare from the mind of a fae but had the majority of the magic wiped out by demons, or something. I don’t know. Does that make sense? It’s been a long week... I also like that it’s pretty dark there without it having to be super edgy/creepy. That trope is old and tired.

Legion: Suramar. I’m basic af, but I’m still BLOWN THE HELL AWAY by Suramar City. I fly around it to kill time or just because it’s been too long since I’ve seen it. Everything about Suramar is cool and if you disagree with me, that’s perfectly fine. People are wrong all the time. For example: Trump is the president of the United States. Also, before you mention my aforementioned Vrykul obsession, listen. It’s Suramar. It’s... It’s so cool. Leave me be.

Battle for Azeroth: Stormsong Valley. I don’t play Alliance so I’ve been flagging for PvP over and over just to look at all their cool settlements. I haven’t explored quite enough, but it’s my favorite zone this expansion by far. Zandalar is a distant second and that’s only because there are dinosaurs everywhere (even though they are actually odd amalgamations of real dinosaurs that are honestly just as cool so why even do them like that) and because Dazar’alor was really breathtaking at least the first time I saw it.

Day 05 — Your favorite classic instance?

I actually hate all of them, but the ones I hate least are: Stratholme, Scholomance, Scarlet Monastery, and Shadowfang Keep. If I never do any of them again, it would be too soon.

#30 days of WoW #This took a while holy crap #So many expansions...#So many years of my life...

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raincityathletics · 3 years

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[FF] July Training Block Details

Hey RAthletes!

Sorry for the delay getting this breakdown out to ya! Obviously things have been a bit hectic making sure we’re ready to rock and roll for group classes, plus we had to make some changes & updates to the cycle once the return of group classes was confirmed... but here’s your breakdown of what to expect for the next 12 weeks in the [FF] classes / program.

Reminder, you can checkout the calendar & strength outline details way in advance via the links here: www.rncty.ca/wod

JULY - SEPT TRAINING BLOCK

For now the plan is to keep the workouts on the same days each week - though it’s been a while since we’ve had group classes, so we may shift the days after 4 or 6 weeks. Let your coach know if you have a preference :) Also a reminder that we’ll continue to offer [FF] Access alongside the group classes, so if you’re ever a little too beat up for that days workout you can come in to do your own thing! Just make sure you’re not cherry picking! [FF] Access blocks will be ‘un-coached’ (they’re busy with class) but [FF] Open Gym will always have a coach actively on hand to help you out and answer questions... anyways, onto the breakdown:

MONDAYS

Front Squats & Front Rack Lunges (12 weeks)

Starting with a 5RM benchmark, we’ll then drop down to ~90% of that load, and begin to build volume in the front squat, working back up to completing a 4x5 (4 sets of 5) at that same load at the end of the cycle. So follow the % - you shouldn’t be ‘maxing out’ every week! Building volume at sub maximal loads is the most efficient and safest way to get stronger :)

We’ll alternate between the Front Squat & the Front Rack lunge, so we can continue to work on that core strength & front rack position while maximizing our strength development by ensuring no leg is left behind! Just like the Front Squats we’ll start with a nice manageable load for the lunges and then continue to build in weight each week.

Chest to Bar and Bar Muscle Up Strength / Skill (8 weeks)

Continuing our pull-up strength work from the last block, we’ll begin to focus now specifically on chest to bar / bar muscle ups. Even if you’re no where close to having these skills, developing your ability to pull through a larger range of motion with the upper body is beneficial at every level! The skill work will progress in a way that will continue to help those who are even just trying to get their first pull-up, or those who are already repping out bar muscle ups.

This block will end 4 weeks prior to the strength cycle, allowing us to start playing with our new tricks in workouts for the final 4 weeks of this cycle.

TUESDAYS

I apologize in advance for this, as I know it’s a love hate thing, but it’s good for you...

Overhead Squats & Snatches (5 weeks)

If you don’t have the mobility to overhead squat (in the shoulders, wrists, hips, ankles... anywhere) they can be VERY frustrating - which is why we don’t commonly do them in our [FF] program. That being said - developing the mobility & strength needed to do them is VERY beneficial.. so suck it up ;)

The goal is to build weight on the OHS while maintaining good position. The reps will drop every 2 weeks, and the tempos will speed up every week, allowing you to increase the load each week. This block is only 4 weeks of consistent work before we re-test the overhead squat August 10th.

It’ll be paired with variations of hip & hang snatches, so you can practice utilizing your beautiful new overhead squat mobility with some lifts! If you still struggle with snatches, or the combo of OHS & Snatching is too much for your wrists / shoulders still, we’ve added a [scaled] option for athletes to do cleans instead.

Landmine Deadlifts & Rope Climb Skill Development (7 weeks)

After 5 weeks of being tortured with overhead squats, we’ll transition to something more fun! Landmine deadlift variations paired with rope climb skill work! We’ll progress on rope climb variations each week, with appropriate levels for every athlete regardless of how much experience you’ve got climbing a rope!

WEDNESDAYS

Strict Press & Split Jerks (8 weeks) into Push Press & Split Jerks (4 weeks)

After watching everyone attempt to max out their overhead lifts in the prior blocks, we decided it was time to dedicate some time to our split jerks.

Each week will be based on your 1RM strict press - ensuring that the weight stays light and manageable for your split jerks so you can practice your footwork and dropping under the bar at moderate loads while continuing to develop your vertical pushing strength.

We’ll re-test your strict press on Sept 1st, then we’ll continue the cycle progressing through push presses & split jerks, continuing to increase load & volume before a final benchmark at the end of September. So in the early weeks, practice catching in a lower & better position than you’re used to, so when we get real heavy towards the end it doesn’t all go out the window ;)

THURSDAYS

Deadlift + Clean Complexes (12 weeks)

Taking a break from conventional deadlift work, we’ll be progressing through high volume complexes of deadlifts + power cleans + squat cleans. Each week the complex will get a little shorter, allowing you to increase the load each week.

Use these high rep complexes as a chance to develop your consistency in the lifts and THEN build the load! High rep hinging complexes are a really quick way to a really sore back if you don’t do them properly - so keep that bar close to the body, and (especially in the early weeks) focus on form until you’re ready to get heavy towards the end of the block.

Pistol Skill Work & Progressions (8 weeks)

Continuing our focus on single leg strength this block - we’ll begin to work on pistols & their progressions! I wrote an article recently for Impact Magazine’s Runners edition talking about the importance of the pistol to help runners avoid injury - so it only made sense to include them in our strength block as everyone starts running more in this (too) hot weather!

Like an overhead squat, your ability to do a pistol relies as much on mobility in the hips, knees, and ankles as it does strength. So each weeks progression will include a variety of skills & holds to help you get comfortable in that position - regardless of how close or far you are from getting them! And if you can already do pistols - great! Let’s make them perfect ;) #virtuosity

As this can also be a frustrating skill, the block will end @ week 8, allowing us a few weeks of practicing our newfound skill in workouts for the final weeks of the cycle.

SATURDAYS

TEAM WODS ARE BACK!

Love it or hate it, if you haven’t experienced the joyful pain of a team wod then you haven’t really experienced Raincity at it’s finest <3

Saturdays will be long sweaty team based workouts in the 20-40 minute time domain, followed by some coach led mobility work to work out the kinks from the week :)

SUNDAYS

Strongman / Landmine Strength (4 weeks)

When we wrote this we weren’t sure if group classes would be back or not yet, so the first 4 weeks are formatted to be consistent development of your ability to hold onto big heavy balls while under fatigue. This is paired with some landmine strength & axel bar holds. The first 4 weeks will stay consistent so you can get comfortable with the new moves / objects, then we’ll start to mix it up.

Strongman / Odd Object Workouts (8 weeks)

After the first 4 weeks of consistent work, we’ll then begin to mix it up on Sundays with a hybrid of Saturday long sweats but with strongman odd objects like sand balls, axel bars, and more!

CHANGE OF DAYS

As mentioned above, to start we’ll keep the primary lifts on the same days each week - to allow you to consistently develop those skills & strength, but we may shift everything over by a day after 4-6 weeks - ie Monday moves to Tuesday, Tues to Wed, Wed to Thurs, Thurs to Monday, and switch Sat / Sun.

As always, apologies for the ramble (#sorrynotsorry) :P and never hesitate to reach out to me directly if you have any questions, feedback, or anything in between :)

Coach Thor & The Raincity Athletics Team

#raincityprogram #raincityff #raincitynews

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manycoloredkingdom · 4 years

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POWER PLAY PART ONE

Man, I'm lazy.

Although plotting a V20 game and a C20 game AND setting up a place holder game for when V20 takes a brief hiatus AND getting back into writing fiction.... AND working a full time job, maybe I'm not actually lazy. I dunno.

I have been enjoying writing these essays on good storytelling, though.

And examining what made the bad stuff that I have experienced so bad.

I'm not trying to say that if you don't do what I suggest that you're sorry sucks and so do you. Not at all. I'm giving examples of the things that the majority of my players have told me they liked.

So I wanted to talk about something that every Storyteller needs to consider when starting a new game: Power.

When I talk about power, as a game team, I mean both "starting power" (what the characters are at right after creation) and "final power" (how strong politically/sociallyphysically/magically they are at the end). These two ratings vary pretty widely in the World of Darkness. Werewolves start with a fast greater capacity for physical violence than a neonate Vampire who starts with fewer magical abilities but no real penalty for using them than a Mage who has a much easier time hiding what they are than either of the previous two.

But the end power levels? An Archmage against an ancient Vampire would be catastrophic and the Werewolf wouldn't stand a chance. But the vampire would likely be the least one standing in terms of sheer power. (We literally saw this play out in the Week of Nightmares where Zapathasura tore through waves of shifters, ancient Kuei-jin and who knows how many humans before the Technocrats intervened... And failed to kill it on the first try.)

With that said, I find low power stories much more interesting than the high power stuff. Knowing that the upper limit of power is nightmarishly high is fun...being on that level is also fun for a little while. But it gets old real fast.

Having it hang over you that the Ancients might or might not be out there waiting to rise up and destroy their progeny in an orgy of feeding and destruction? That adds a whole new level of horror if one of the elders were to awaken in your town and expect obedience. After all, they have the power to command it.

For the current Vampire game that I'm running, I had one player who wanted a high power campaign. That's fair. Nothing a player wants is wrong, per se. It may be wrong for the game and the tone, but wanting a particular game is fine.

It is even one of the first things that I ask when we get started: "What do you want out of this game? What kind of game are you looking for?"

The consensus, including this particular player, was that they wanted a mystery. So I started up a mystery. That evolved, once they began interacting with the Court, into a political thriller with an overarching occult doomsday plot. Tons of intrigue, lots of description and misdirection and a relatively low power level since getting tougher in the WoD takes a pretty long time and they didn't take high levels of Generation.

Well... Midway through Act I, this player got mad over the fact that he couldn't just tear his way through a group of hunters.

There are a couple of problems with his logic and I tried to gently point them out:

He didn't build a combat character.

His generation (13th) makes him slightly better in combat than a human... But not a group of them.

His elegant rebuttal was: "But I'm a fucking vampire!"

That's stuck with me. He dropped a while back but the argument is still there. His character was, as he noted, a fucking vampire. And I understand his frustration. The games he has played in have all been high powered murderfests.

And there's nothing wrong with that either.

But the direction of a chronicle honestly does have a lot to do with the power level.

If they had said they wanted a war story between the Camarilla and the Sabbat, I would have likely started everyone at 9th generation with more points and a huge rate of being killed to death.

But with a mystery, a sense of powerlessness and being outnumbered, outgunned, but potentially not out-maneuvered leads to a higher generation and stronger enemies to prevent them from just wading through the enemies and using violence to solve all the problems they face.

(continued next)

#Storyteller tips #WoD #World of Darkness #vampire the masquerade #changeling the dreaming

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megan-rambles · 4 years

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I just...I literally feel like I get wronged so often. I’m not even sure if it’s to do with me as a person or I just have shit luck. I mean I just read back some of the posts and I realised I copped it at IGA. I copped it at headspace when I wasn’t able to apply for the job the first time. And now I’m copping it with this gym friend shit. This is probably the worst because it’s just soo like how it was at school. And I think I’d be more ok with it if they were already friends and I joined the gym. But seriously it’s the fact that I introduced liv to the gym and we were ‘gym wives’ and then she’s literally gone and made more interesting friends and starting hanging out with them without me. It’s the really clear rejection I think that’s getting to me. And like...she wouldn’t have had those friends if it wasn’t for me. It’s the fact that now *i* have to consider moving gyms even though I was the one who introduced her to the gym in the first place. And of course!! It’s me this happens to. I mean Bec has kinda been removed too but that was definitely more her decision. I was always happy to go to any events they planned (unles I physically couldn’t) but goodness forbid I don’t talk to them every hour of the day so they just start hanging out anyway

I have to consider Emma wasn’t there too. But she wa away for the weekend. I have to consider that liv and bel were probably already out (a bit of a sting but whatever) and then just decided to spontaneously go to Lucy’s bc they know where her house is (which is clear from the what’s app post). I am curious as to what the fresh fuck they were thinking it would make me feel, especially making story after story on Instagram.

That being said, from the moment they starting saying things like “she doesn’t look like a dancer” or planning to go to lunch even when I couldn’t go, or when I started to feel like I couldn’t be myself around them when they were all together with bel (it was fine when she left...just saying 😂) I was really starting to consider whether these are good friends for me or people I want to surround myself with. So maybe they’ve picked up on the vibes that I’ve already starting to clock out without intentionally trying to hurt me.

The thing is, I don’t really want to be talking to people constantly. With my anxiety that’s absolutely exhausting. So if liv is talking to them constantly bc that’s just who she is then of course things like this are going to happen and it’s unreasonable for them to just be like ‘invite Meg’. If I was in this situation I wouldn’t have thought to invite Emma, for example. And I don’t want to randomly go to someone’s house with no notice, that is not my vibe. I don’t want to spend time with people that I have to fight to be heard or people that clearly just don’t want me there. I do have friends and people in my life that appreciate me for me and I don’t have to fight to pay attention to me. I always thought if I didn’t have these friends I’d be fine, the only thing I lose is that sense that I finally had friends in the mountains and from gym. But that’s not worth fighting for if the people I’m trying to be friends with are toxic friends for me.

I’m really curious to see how the next two weeks go, if we can stay friendly with each other at the gym and for the occasional get together. Tbh I’d be happy if we don’t meet up outside of the gym at all, like that planned trip to QLD sounds like it’ll be a fucking train wreck for me. Maybe just like get coffee after gym.

But ok, if I’m honest I feel really awkward around bel. I honestly feel like she’s just replaced me bc she’s so interesting instead of joining the group that was already there. And ever since I suggested we be partner for the partner WOD last Saturday and she just like looked awkward and didn’t say anything I got the sense she really didn’t want to do that. BUT her liv and Lucy obviously get along really well and I love that for them, but it makes it hard for me to spend time with them or have it feel like it used to because literally when they’re together they just ignore me. Such a fucking weird dynamic. But like...if I organise coffee at Fed bc liv is such good friends with bel I’d feel like I’d have to invite her, but I literally can’t get a word in when she’s there. And I mean liv and bel get together by themselves (....and then go to Lucy’s and forget I exist...but I digress 😂) so I COULD just invite liv, but if we’re going to be a ~group~ i don’t think that’s right. I don’t want liv to feel like she has to only hang out with me when we get together. This whole thing gives me serious Blake vibes and I really don’t want anyone to feel like they have to tip toe around me or feel like they have to invite me to everything.

At the end of the day I don’t have to surround myself with people that make me feel like shit. If people are going to exclude me, that sucks but i DONT have to put up with it. I feel angry that this even happened, I feel angry that they wouldn’t even be hanging out if it wasn’t for me but when I reflect, I didn’t even WANT to be there. Literally sitting on the couch with josh watching survivor is literally the idea of my ideal night. Like same with the QLD trip, I literally heard them organising it and was like “yeahhh nah”. I think sometimes you can become friends with people wayyy to quickly and it just becomes a train wreck. I knew from the start I was the odd one out being the only introvert.

I feel like Emma is the only one who actually cares about how others might feel. I don’t think she probably has even thought what that would have been like for me, perhaps just assumed I couldn’t be there. But I feel like if I told her she’d be heartbroken for me.With liv it’s like as soon she’s with bel she’s completely forgotten we used to joke about being codepend gym wives 😂 Lucy I do wonder what she’s thinking or even noticed how I might have felt, especially given it obviously wasn’t her decision and she posted on the what’s app group like “ANY of you can come to my house any time”.

Liv, I’m really not sure. I feel like she has a heart and would be upset if she knew I was upset, but I don’t think she’s ever experienced any like this before so just wouldn’t get how I felt. Like I don’t think she understands that flaunting that she’s hanging out with people I more or less introduced to her (mind you, she definitely made her own friends with them bc I wasn’t super close to them before she started. Like I’m the reason they KNOW each other but she’s the reason we are now all hanging out). I honestly don’t think she thinks there was anything wrong with that, it was just a ✨spontaneous ✨ night for her and nothing else.

Bel, I literally think she doesn’t give a fresh fuck but how I’d be feeling 😂 I could be wrong but usually my intuitions about people are correct.

Basically, if people make me feel shit about myself, whether intentionally or not, it’s not worth my time. Maybe I can be at the gym and be friendly with them (I mean like, Ali wasn’t there for example but they’d still be friendly with her) but if I can’t because of my ✨anxiety✨ then that’s ok too. They likely won’t exactly miss me 😂😂😂 so I don’t think it’ll be that bad if I just leave. I was already considering leaving bc F45 fits better in my schedule but didn’t want to bc of this group. Really ironic that as soon as I decided “no ok I’ll stay with CrossFit” this happens 😂 PLUS I ALMOST left CrossFit when i first started and only stayed literally bc of liv. Literally, this WHOLE thing wouldn’t have happened if I left before. So interesting!

It’s hard not to take this personally because it’s so similar to high school, but maybe the universe is telling me this CAN happen, but also not to surround myself with people that are going to be toxic for me. Not toxic in general, they are all good people, but for me. Because of what I’ve been through, I’m not going to chose to be friends with just whoever, like someone like Liv might be. We’ve all been though our own battles, and this is one of mine. Yes I broke down because of this because it feels unfair that this constant rejection isn’t a thing of the past anymore, but fuck. The fact I can face shit like this again again and again and still be standing, still feel confident makes me fucking strong. I’ve been excluded, rejected and treated like shit by ‘friends’ ALL of my childhood and I’m still fucking standing, but also I’m SUCCESSFUL. This is a fucking blessing, the opportunity to become stronger and more resilient. If I can make the decision early to not surround myself with people that make me feel like ✨shit✨ then that shows that I’m resilient. I’m strong. I can still feel the painful emotions, I can fucking grieve the fact that I thought I was in a community that finally accepted me. But I can chuck a pheonix like I have done in the past and rise above. No painful emotion I’ve ever felt has lasted forever. In fact I’ve spent a good few years since I was like 21 where I haven’t had to overthink my friendships at all. I know it’s not personal at all. I was happy before I had these people in my life and I can be happy after

Anyway Josh had left so time for me to feel this emotion 😭

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risrielthron · 7 years

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Good vs Evil / Horde vs Alliance

So people are passing around a post like wildfire right now. Guys be courteous and mark your stuff.

Also people on both sides of the argument flying around have made some interesting points. Some rightly pointing out that we have tacked modern day sensibilities onto the arguments and bringing our biases into play.

I’d like to point out that until Christie Golden’s book releases, stuff makes its way out of beta and PTR, and onto live servers: We don’t know the whole story.

Much like the Alliance’s POTV on Sylvanas’s leaving at the Shore, we don’t know the whole story yet. We can speculate, we can make up theories, we can even begin to plot how our characters might react ICly. But at the end of the day, we are all Humans of Earth...not Azeroth, playing behind those characters. Please be nice to each other in your avid fanning.

Let’s remember to keep our conversations civil, and keep the name calling to IC when more information is available.

Now for my thoughts on that post, under the cut for length.

As I have said before, I’ve played both factions at various times over the last 13 years. For every expac (except this one yet) I have done the quests on both sides.

Both sides have different reasons for doing the things they do. Up until Garrosh took over, the Horde’s story and the Alliance’s story had similar themes and people doing similar things. Sure there were “evil” and “good” people on both sides but until MOP we never really had a strong these are the “good guys” and these are the “bad guys”. (except maybe the Forsaken *cough*New Plague*cough*)

The bad guys were the end game bosses. Then Garrosh came along. And for the first time the faction war really felt real to me. Garrosh’s behavior though was influenced by what? An Old God.

Then we get to WoD and what’s going on there with Gul’dan and the Iron Horde. But again both sides were not really hating on each other, Vol’jin’s a chill dude...(still salty he didn’t get more time).

Then Legion...the grand “betrayal” at the start. The story line leading us into more and more faction tension.

It makes sense that it will come to a head. We’ve been sort of ignoring the whole Horde vs. Alliance since the death of Garrosh. And neither side is innocent. Let’s not forget that the whole Legion problem started with some elves. Let’s not forget that a Human razed a whole city of innocent people. Let’s not forget that Human’s enslaved a bunch of Orcs. Let’s not forget all the countless things each side has done to get us to this point. The faction hatred runs deep.

This is the expac that will change the way we view the world...until the next one.

Ultimately, World of Warcraft is a story about good and evil, about the lengths gone to do the things each side thinks is right. And each side thinks it is the “good” guys. Its why its such a place to suck us all in and keep us here.

Love you all. Be kind out there.

#ooc

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c0rpseductor · 5 years

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vtm gehenna: time of judgment novel spoilers ahead. im just reviewing this shit

surprisingly pleased with the novel, actually. i’d heard it wasn’t great and i don’t necessarily like gehenna scenarios as my personal WoD headcanon, but i really enjoyed this one. it definitely confirmed for me some headcanons i had about both caine, and the take about what it “means” to be kindred on a sort of philosophical level was actually one i REALLY liked. the ending was oddly very satisfying even if it was kind of depressing, and personally it dovetails pretty perfectly with what i’d always felt about how Being A Vampire should or could work - the idea that it was individual choice and attitude that had to do with everything rather than something so abstract as Fate or Damnation. and ultimately that has a broader meaning as an allegory for regular life, as well, because the point was that everyone should choose their own meaning and purpose in life and that kindred had sucked precisely because so few of them did and accumulated power as an end rather than a means.

i really enjoyed beckett’s characterization, though his dialogue left just a touch to be desired to me; it wasn’t QUITE formal enough compared to how i’d gotten used to it in vtmb. it was REALLY fun, however, finding out that he’s actually kind of a big softie for a vampire, and seeing him make a whole bunch of dumb goofs. he’s really extremely likeable and i’m very glad he was the main character. his relationship with caine was also great, especially because caine was like......also kind of soft, at least for THE FIRST VAMPIRE, but then again i’d always considered that he must be so to some degree because he’s kind of portrayed as sad and guilty. so that was kind of gratifying, actually, was just chill friendly caine

theo bell was another favorite of mine in the novel and honestly the only thing that made me like him more was remembering his backstory that hadn’t been touched on in the book. as soon as i remembered who he was i was like, “HOLY FUCK! THEO BELL!” it was really awesome to see him defect from the camarilla for the Right Reasons and he just was extremely amazing the whole time. theo bell KING i love you

i am of two minds about jack, however. it was VERY interesting to see him pick up gardening, and also very humorous that the author included him snatching a goldfish out of a pond and licking it, for reasons that only made the vaguest sense. him suddenly being into noddism was weird but kind of interesting, and his character had shifted just enough while remaining recognizable that it felt not unlike going to a high school reunion and discovering the delinquent of the class had taken up knitting as a career or something. so all that was fun. it was ALSO interesting to see him decide to fight against the institution for something a little deeper than just himself, even if that’s also part of what made him so fun in the first place.

i would have liked better if his motivations were more clear, though. i assume he wanted jenna cross’s people to win out against the camarilla to ensure a bunch of oppressive shitheads didn’t pick the reins back up once gehenna was over if there were any survivors, and maybe that he would’ve wanted them to resist gehenna, because i literally can’t imagine jack ever accepting the apocalypse or taking it lying down even if he KNEW it was coming. i also don’t think his death was intentional on his part like the wiki implies. but it didn’t seem like a fitting end for him at all. i understand it’s because oukulos/samuel had him in a bind by potentially fucking cross’s movement over for good, and that because he couldn’t kill samuel he was kind of fucked in that regard, but it still seemed too passive for him. i would’ve accepted it better if at LEAST he had died in an extremely cool and jack-like way, but he did not.

the idea of him actually making a sacrifice for someone else or the good of a cause is actually a really interesting end to his arc, though, i will say that. i like the idea of jack only answering to jack, but sometimes i think that almost clashes with some of his political leanings, so it’s an interesting choice to have him decide he’s going to take a stand about something that doesn’t directly benefit him or that’s primarily for the sake of someone who isn’t him. and i think both that and the way jenna cross looked up to him SO hard is a nice nod to the marginally softer parts of his character, insofar as any part of jack could be called “soft” at all.

once again, though, i think all these ideas could’ve been executed in a way better manner than “jack lets himself get stabbed by some douchebag.” that was unsatisfying even from the standpoint of gehenna being worst case scenario, and really just did not sit well with me. i’d known that was the decision for the time of judgment timeline, but i’m not into it. if jack had to go down during gehenna i would be much happier to see him go guns blazing, you know? i don’t want him to die at ALL but that would just be a better way to kill him off if it HAD to happen, because he wasn’t the type to take things lying down that way.

honestly in regards to the other characters i don’t know most of them well enough to comment, because i’m not all too familiar with the other novels. lucita’s arc was pretty cool and i enjoyed reading about her but i’m also biased toward loving the token lasombra even if i hate that individual lasombra as a person. it’s complicated.

overall i think it was a really good novel and my only particularly significant gripe with it was that smiling jack got unceremoniously stabbed and died in the lamest way possible, which just makes me irritated and sad, because that’s not right or how he’d want to go and him being so passive is like, fucked. also the author made him use a slur, and that’s not nice.

EDIT: i almost forgot because i did not want this to be true but that business with the tremere means strauss probably met a horrible gruesome end and i’m so upset about it. strauss did NOT deserve that shit he is the most valid tremere on earth and i LOVE HIM and i [cries]

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smokingbomber · 7 years

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that WoD AU

LMAO there have been some comments and asks about AU #1, so let me just say it’s been like four or five years since I’ve played? and @heavensthunder and @wittyblather noted that they’d been thinking more along the lines of the Senshi using the Princess fansplat, which probably makes more sense than Mages, but the biggest problem with either Mage or Princess is that I’m not nearly as familiar with either as I am with CTL, so me setting up Senshi-side would be hella hamfisted-- and as far as Mage goes I’m more familiar with oWoD Mage than nWoD.

that said! this being a potential fic instead of a campaign, it’s not like i’d have to be doing character sheets and following all the rules. also this is basically suggestions, someone whose head is more firmly in WoD mindspace could do this better.

so!!!

Senshi

obviously the girls are a cabal, and they are in fact a mixed-order cabal, and mamoru’s just... on his own. because he always is.

potential breakdown if even using orders: probably rei is the mysterium monkey (unless she’s silver ladder), makoto is the adamantine arrow, minako’s a guardian of the veil, ami is the silver ladder (or possibly also a mystie), mamoru is an apostate or also silver ladder, and usagi is the free spir-- I MEAN FREE COUNCIL chick, i mean, who’s gonna tell the princess what to do. it’s just that given the orders, tbh, they all end up more loyal to each other and to usagi than their own orders, so they all probs get kicked out and it doesn’t matter anyway.

paths: another WoD shortcoming, basically, because powers-wise they should honestly all be Obrimos because all their shit is elemental except Usagi whose element is MAAAAGIC so prime works anyway, and mamoru who is a thyrsus because omfg duh life + spirit (and because while mind would make him super mastigos space has no place). if we were going by philosophical alignment to watchtower instead of powers, usagi would be acanthus, mamoru would STILL be thyrsus (unless he were moros) and so would minako (but for completely different reasons, unless she were obrimos), ami would be mastigos, rei would be moros or thyrsus, and makoto obrimos... unless all the girls were acanthus, which would make sense anyway given the DK. can you tell i don’t much like the paths?

essentially it’s really hard to keep the senshi’s stories their own in the mage setting unless you do a shitton to the world and basically houserule almost the entire setting away. the way i think about it, anyway. someone who likes nWoD mage more than i do can probably do a better job.

Story

So basically, yes fuck everything the important part about Mage here is that reincarnation as an Awakened is a thing, and back in the days of SilMil (which Mage fans would be like ATLANTIS OBVIOUSLY IT’S ATLANTIS) the Senshi were the guardians of the princess of Atlantis, etc etc; the important thing here is that while Atlantis was the seat of magey power Elysion was the seat of dreams. Like the way I’m seeing it is more or less pre-Sundering CtD; it did not answer to Atlantis, and the Lunargent Thorn were the ambassadors to it, and fae souls reincarnated (if the fae were killed) just as much as nWoD Mage souls do. shit i’ve had better ideas...

anyway: blar blar shit went south when the mage princess fell in love with the faerie king and a rabble-rousing faerie jerkwad was like ‘no i wanted him’ and gets a bunch of mages to try building a stairway to heaven and then tells a bunch of faeries about it and foments war everywhere, and she got the power to do it from a powerful nightmare that had been locked away, or something.

cue literally everything exploding and everyone dying and CtD being rebooted to CtL because part of the fall of atlantis was the loss of balance in everything and all the dreams failing and the nightmares coming to life.

fast forward to the present, and metalia-true-fae has been working on her realm, and has designs on eating the rest of everything, and she ganks beryl again and gets her to focus on finding the faerie king’s guards...

no really i’ve had better ideas. why don’t i skip to the shitennou.

Shitennou

legit i wanted to go into so much more detail on this but ok, this still isn’t posted so obviously i can’t.

so: jadeite, werewolf elodoth. zoisite, changeling flamesiren. kunzite, vampire i forget what i figured out because the nwod vampire version of ventrue sucks. nephrite, weird-this-AU mage unless he is a changeling telluric.

#text post #world of darkness #au #inner senshi #shitennou

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theaetherhealerffxiv · 5 years

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Temperament

A FFXIV fanfiction - One shot

Pairing: Wol/wod x Emet-Selch

Rated: PG-17 [for safety]

WoL/Wod is NB with female leaning [you/yours/etc]

Word Count: 2370

Summary: After the Greatwoods you return to rest in the Pendants; only to find Emet-Selch in your bed. With the conversation you had with him fresh in your mind you want to take this time to ask the Ascian questions only he can answer...

Continuation of this

You had not expected to find a sleeping Ascian laying on your bed in the Pendants. You looked around for Ardbert, usually he was so very willing to appear when you came back to your room. Instead, you found a peaceful nothingness. You could not sense the fallen warrior nor the eyes of the Exarch. Walking to your bed you tilted your head, reaching down to brush the older man’s hair from his face letting your fingertips graze his cheek. Causing his expression to squint and sleepy golden eyes to appear from under his hooded gaze.

“Ah, the hero returns.” He murmurs shifting to give you room on the bed. “Care to rest hero? No prying eyes shall see you while I am within this room.” Yawning Emet-Selch shifted to sit up briefly and shed himself of his usual jacket. You stood frowning as he handed it to you. “Please, be a dear and put this on a chair? Oh and do hurry, I am very tired.”

Sighing you snatched the coat from him and began to shed your own garments. After throwing the coat upon one of the chairs you walk over to the sink. You grabbed a washcloth and soaked it in cool water, using it in a vain attempt to scrub away the days grime. You could hear a hum behind you, which you attempted to ignore. Throwing most of the garments that where dirty on the floor you snatched a shirt, which you found you did not recognize. Looking at the bed you saw a shirtless Emet laying with his back to you.

“Truly?” You asked, annoyed. “You could have conjured me a new shirt, but you gave me yours?”

“Perhaps hero,” Came the sleepy snarky voice of the Ascian, “I wished to see you within my own shirt. Tis still warm I bet.” Groaning you slipped it on over your head - it was, deliciously warm. Wrapping yourself up in a hug you sighed and stood there a moment before hearing Emet speak again. “If you are quick I will hug you instead.” Blushing you looked at your bed to find him smirking coyly at you. You opened your mouth to stammer out a response but you were silenced by seeing the man reach out his hand to beckon you. A shiver traveled up your spine but you strode to your bed with purpose and pulled the covers back sinking into the mattress next to Emet-Selch. Who wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest with a sigh.

Your ears burning you gently placed your hands on his bare chest, surprised to see dainty scars upon them. They looked like he had been attacked by a knife or something similar. “Emet,” you murmured. It had been sometime since the Greatwoods, since he saved you from your first bout with the Light within you. Perhaps it was those memories that spurred you on, but you had to ask. Above you you heard him grumble in response. “What are these?” Tracing the scars gingerly.

“Hmm, I was an emperor hero.” He scoffed, clearly irritated that instead of sleeping you were trying to converse. “Not all liked my methods.”

By the Twelve even you did not really understand his methods of leadership. Even though you had come to terms with being in love with the Ascian. You sighed. “They tried to kill you?”

“Of course.” He answered curtly. “You likely do not remember,”

“Hang on,” You pushed him back and he balked at you with a glare. “I do not remember?”

“Have you already forgotten hero?” He sighed. Rolling his eyes his voice patronizing as he continued. “Your soul is that of my past lovers. Every single one was you.” You squinted - so he admitted it. You where those people. Emet-Selch’s face softened as he reached out to caress your cheek. His golden eyes searching yours carefully as if he was unsure if he wanted to tell this story: that it was clearly still fresh within his mind. After a prolonged moment he sighed, conceding to your glare. “You, where my guard, my true lover despite me taking a wife. As Solus.” He clarified. “And stress not the woman knew that I loved you and not she.” Waving his hand he replaced it on your hip. “Regardless of your careful ministrations upon my safety assassins still often snuck into my palace, my quarters.” The Ascian grinned mischievously. “Caught in a passionate embrace we where, when the man appeared to try to kill me.” You blushed furiously as he leaned forward to kiss your forehead. “Alas, you, true to your nature protected me with your body dying instead of I.” His hand was like iron upon your waist as it traveled up to your back, and then your head. You wanted to look at his face but was unable to because of his grasp. Instead you felt the hot splash of tears upon your hair. “It was quite unfair. Of course, I had a son by this point, but regardless I still died of a broken heart weeks later.”

You scoffed. “A broken heart, you Solus zos Glavus?” Part of you felt that he had died of that several times in whatever mortal life he had. The other part of you wanted to disregard it as a frivioulus fancy. The tears that fell and the arm that was around you of course dissuaded these thoughts but they lingered.

“Yes. Did you not think it possible for one such as I to be wounded so?” He pulled away clearly irritated. “I spend my lifetimes searching for your soul foolish fragment. Every time, regardless of what gender or race you are. I search for you.”

“Why.” You asked seriously. “Surely the temperament that Zodiark put upon you keeps you from having such attachments.”

Emet rolled his eyes. “Yes, I am tempered, I have said this before. But he does not see it fit to impose his will upon us all the time like those lowly Primals that the beasts summon. He takes his time, urges us only when we stray from our goal.”

“To bring about the rejoining.” You muttered watching his face smile softly as if a memory was flitting across his mind's eye.

He hummed. “The rejoining, a beautiful prospect. And then we shall sacrifice what little life there is to bring back those that we have lost.” Emet seemed far away from you; unlike when he had been telling the story of your previous life he seemed: tempered.

“Why, I am right here am I not?” You asked, seeing him snap out of whatever stupor he had been in to turn his golden eyes back to you, shifting in the bed to lay his head against the shared pillow.

“You are, and yet,” He caressing your face tracing your cheeks and lips. “You are just a hollow shell of who you used to be.”

“I do not believe that.” You countered causing him to frown. “If that is so why do you continually seek me out?” This caused you to pause and then add; “Why did you not seek me out after you had ‘died’?”

Emet seemed slightly taken aback, as if the words out of your mouth greatly surprised him. His eyes were wide, his brows high upon his forehead and his mouth slightly ajar. “I,” He frowned, staring at your lips as he brought his hand back to press gently on your lower. “I am, was, tired. You see.” He murmured as if ashamed. “I could not bear another loss. I, you were so like yourself, in both that incarnation and this one-”

“I am myself Emet. Clearly being a hollow shell does not keep me from being who I once was.” You spoke as his thumb was still on your lip, his hand almost felt like it was shaking. Which was clearly out of the character you knew.

“Speak not like that hero.” His eyes lowered, but you could not decipher his face. Was he angry at you? “You know me.” He spat.

“Your right,” You countered. “I do.” You dug your nails into his chest. “I may not remember, but I know what I feel. And I know you would have not given up that easily.”

The Ascian growled and moved his hand to snatch your hair and pull your face to his kissing you with passion. Gasping in surprise he took the chance to force his tongue into your mouth. He groaned and shifted to press you against his body. Your own body boiled, emotions that you had felt that day in the Greatwoods came tumbling back twenty fold. You knew him, you knew how to push him to the edge, you knew he would give you the truth but twist it just so that you would not understand it. Hide just enough of it to keep you wanting. You moaned against him and then found that he was on top of you, pulling away disheveled. Frowning down at you.

“I came here to nap hero.” He panted, “Not be interrogated about past choices. Need you forget that you too are tempered?”

“I am not - “ He silenced you with an angry kiss. It was as if he was pushing lifetimes of need upon you; and you tried to respond back, but the bruising pace that he set kept you from reacting properly. After a moment he pulled away.

“Lifetimes, lifetimes I spent looking for you! Over and over and over!” He growled, leaning forward nipping and sucking at your neck. “You have no right to ask me, why.” You gasped under his touch, bowing your back under the sheets. You wanted more, you wanted him to touch you. “We had children, we made love, we died in each others arms so many times!” Emet-selch hissed. “Can you blame me for wanting a little rest away from you!”

“No!” You cried, causing him to freeze. “No I do not blame you!” He shivered, his face buried in the crook of your neck. Your arms reaching up to bury in his earthen hair. “But why this lifetime! Why with me being a hero did you decide to return! It had not even been one full lifetime had it not since we last met?” Surprisingly tears sprung to your eyes. The Ascian pulled back, his face somber, the anger that he had exhibited moments before extinguished with your tears.

His face, pained shifted to sit at your feet one hand covering his eyes. “I did not have a choice hero.”

You sat up tears flowing freely. “And you cannot tell me why right?!”

He shook his head. “I can only say it is part of our great plan-”

“And what if it comes into fruition! What if you bring about the grand rejoining and my soul is no more? That you cannot bring it back! Or that you sacrifice it?!” You spat, knowing your words caused him pain, he was clearly struggling with himself. With the love he had for you, and with the weight of the countless deaths and wishes of the dead; the wishes of Zodiark. He hunched over now clutching his head. “Emet! Tell me! What will you do if you lose the one thing you clearly search for?!”

“I will not.” Came the heated response, his hands fell away and crazed eyes stared at you. You had pushed him past the breaking point, you were no longer speaking to the Emet you knew, but the tempered Ascian that was your enemy. “Zodiark will bring them back, we just have to create an appropriate sacrifice.” His hands reached out to you, “I will make you whole, you see? We will be together again my love -”

You slapped his hand away. “Leave.” The man before you stilled. “You are not Emet. Leave Tempered of Zodiark.”

His eyes fell, you could still see a glimmer of your Emet in there. His hand, which had stilled shot for your shoulders quicker than your tired body could move and you where in his grasp. “Hero,” He growled. “Do you know my name?”

You blinked, confused. “Emet-Selch the Ascian, and Solus zos Glavus the Garlean emperor?” You squeaked, his grip hurting you.

“No, my name. Do you remember my name.” He emphasised the words, as if this name that he sought would free him from whatever will Zodiark was exerting upon him. You shook your head slowly, staring at him as your mind raced. A memory, you could see it, barely, it looked as if it was covered in fog and crystal, as if Hydalen herself did not wish for you to see it.

“Your, name?” You breathed as you watched Emet’s shoulders heave and fall, his body slouching and his hands retracting from your shoulders. His expression was disappointed, yet hopeful.

“It is within your grasp, is it not?” He breathed. “But she does not wish you to see it.”

Your eyes widened.

“She controls you by hiding your past, just as Zodiark controls me by making me relive mine.” He slouched against the wall clearly exhausted. Rubbing his head he sighed, raising his hand. “Fear not, he has withdrawn. I am once more upon the correct path. You did wonders to shake my resolve hero.” The Ascian laughed and let himself fall upon the bed beside you. “Shall we take a break hero? No more of this interrogation I beg of you.” You watched him carefully, but seeing the deep bags under his eyes you settled down next to him. “Did I harm you while I was within the thralls?” Emet whispered as he pulled you closer to him.

“No damage has been done.” You responded carefully. Your mind still racing at his words, but against his bare chest you felt surprisingly at peace. As if nothing could touch you while you were in his arms.

“Praise Zodiark.” He sighed, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “I am exhausted hero let us sleep.”

You frowned, about to respond when you felt him breathe gently as sleep took him.

While he escaped to sleep you where left with many questions and no answers.

#im sorry im on a roll #literally these take me like a hour?#ug i love writing #emet selch x wol #emet-selch #emet-selch x wol #emetxwol #Remember Me [emetxwol]#solus zos galvus #solus zos glavus x wol #ffxiv #ffxiv shadowbringers #ffxiv shb spoilers #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxiv fanfic

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ebenpink · 6 years

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4 Misunderstandings About Carbs and Stress https://ift.tt/2tUkuje

The relationship between stress and carbohydrates is confusing, with seemingly contradictory arguments bouncing around the online health sphere.

There are those who say high-carb diets cause stress, and that eating more fat and fewer carbs is the solution.

There are those who say high-fat diets increase stress and eating carbs ameliorates it.

Who’s right? They can’t both be right, can they?

Well…

You’d be surprised.

Let’s dig into four common carb questions and assertions.

“Stress Increases Carb Cravings.”

This is well-established. You have a terrible day at the office, your kids have appointments twenty miles apart within fifteen minutes of each other, the traffic is backed up to your driveway, you’re late for work, the dog needs a walk, you haven’t even thought about what to make for dinner, you slept four hours last night—it adds up. People deal with a lot. And in that moment, a carbohydrate-based snack really does seem to take the edge off.

Across millions of years of hominid evolution, the human stress response developed in the context of real-world, short-term, and infrequent but intense stressors: battles, hunts, freak injuries, dangerous animal encounters, interpersonal conflicts. These were situations that demanded heightened senses, available fuel, and a rapid heart rate to deliver everything to the tissues that needed to move and act. It makes perfect sense for your body to pump out adrenaline to increase fat burning and glucose in the blood—you need that fuel to deal with the situation. It also makes sense for your body to follow that up with a blast of cortisol, which makes you crave high-carb junk food to replace the fuel you utilized. The problem is that our modern stressors are too frequent, they aren’t physically demanding, we aren’t utilizing the fuel we mobilize, and we have no real need for the carb cravings that come after.

What happens when we eat too many carbs that we never actually needed?

We get fat. Cellular energy supply becomes overloaded, impairing our mitochondria’s ability to process energy efficiently. This degrades metabolic flexibility—the ability to switch between different fuel sources—preventing us from burning the fat on our bodies in between meals. We become reliant on those carbs, and when we don’t get them fast enough, our bodies perceive that as a major stressor.

So while giving in to carb cravings can reduce stress in the short-term, it sets us up for longer-term, more chronic stress.

“What About Gluconeogenesis? Isn’t That a Stress Response?”

It can be.

A primary goal of cortisol is to increase glucose availability. It does this through multiple avenues. One I just mentioned is to increase carb cravings. Another is to make you insulin resistant, thereby preventing insulin from sucking up blood glucose. Gluconeogenesis—the creation of glucose from amino acids and other substrates—is another.

If you’re a sugar-burner, stressful situations will increase carb cravings, induce gluconeogenesis, and may even make you insulin resistant. If you’re fat-adapted, the story shifts.

A fat-adapted person will have ketones and fatty acids available to provide energy in between meals. A fat-adapted person will have ketones and fatty acids available to provide energy in stressful situations. A fat-adapted person will be able to utilize those ketones and fatty acids during stressful situations—their mitochondria will literally be primed to utilize those fuels, not just glucose. A fat-adapted person is less likely to perceive carbohydrate shortages as stress shortages because they’ve got all this other fuel available to burn.

This adaptation doesn’t happen overnight. If your diet is low-carb or keto, but your body is still reliant on sugar, you will perceive reduced carb availability as a stressor. That’s one of the hallmarks of the keto flu, and it’s one reason why some people have extended keto flu—their bodies are still expecting and demanding glucose.

Some people never get over the carb cravings; they never fully adapt. This is the subset of the population that doesn’t function or perform well on a long-term ketogenic diet. The cause is unknown, at least for now (I suspect it has to do with recent ancestry and genetic proclivities), but what matters is that these people exist. For them, a long-term keto or very low carb diet approach will probably always be stressful. But even in these folks, spending some time in ketosis—through short term low-carb eating, intermittent fasting, or even extended low-level endurance activity that primarily burns fat—is a good idea that will reduce stress and improve overall resilience.

“But Carbs Make Exercise Less Stressful!”

Exercise is stressful to begin with. But then you adapt to the stress and overcome it—and end up stronger, fitter, and faster than before. Without the stress, working out doesn’t work. A legitimate method for increasing your work capacity is to train-low (carb), race-high (carb). Athletes have been doing this for decades—training in a low-carb state to get better at performing without ample muscle glycogen, then going into a race with full glycogen reserves and the ability to perform without glycogen. Exercising in that low-glycogen state is stressful, but that’s the whole point. It makes them better, stronger, faster, and it conserves glycogen for when they really need it.

If you consistently perform glucose-intensive high-intensity anaerobic activity for extended periods of time—CrossFit style WODs done 3-5 times per week, for example—you will run up a glucose debt and should replenish some of the carbohydrates you expend or risk cortisol spikes. Fat-adaptation can improve your tolerance of anaerobic activity in a low-glucose state, but there’s a breaking point, a physiological limit.

Eat the carbs you earn. This is a subtle point I don’t often see made. The reverse is widely understood—don’t eat the carbs you don’t earn—because millions of obese and overweight people do that every day. It’s a big reason why we’re so overweight. But if you fail to eat the carbs you earn through intense, protracted physical activity, you’re creating an undeniable glycogen deficiency that your body may perceive as a stressor. It may turn out that fully fat- and keto-adapted athletes can perform intense medium-to-long-term activities at high levels, and there’s some indication that this is the case, but for the time being it appears that eating the carbs you earn can stave off the stress.

“Low-Carb Diets Are Stressful For Women.”

There’s a glimmer of truth here. Allow me to explain.

Women are inherently more sensitive to caloric fluctuations than men…on average. The reason is sheer biology. Human evolution is concerned with fertility and reproduction. Can you produce, foster, and support viable offspring? Awesome. Natural selection deems you fit.

To fulfill their biological role, men have to produce sperm. They can do so almost indefinitely. They don’t run out; they just make more. If a batch is damaged due to poor lifestyle or dietary choices, there’s more on the way. After a man gets someone pregnant, his biological involvement with the growing baby is done. What or when he eats has no impact on the survival of the growing baby.

To fulfill theirs, women have a finite number of eggs, or “chances.” Once an egg is gone, there’s no replacing it.

And so the body seeks to inculcate the egg from environmental insults.

When you are preparing to get pregnant, your body needs extra nutrients to build up a reserve and “prime the pump.”

When you are pregnant, the growing baby needs a reliable and constant stream of nutrients for almost a year.

After you’ve given birth, the growing newborn needs breastmilk. To make that milk requires additional calories and extra doses of specific nutrients. Modern technology allows us to skip nursing and go straight to the bottle, but your body doesn’t “know” that.

It all points to women being more finely attuned to caloric deficits. For example, women’s levels of ghrelin, the hunger hormone, are quicker to rise after meals. Even if you’re never going to have kids, your body is still wired to protect against these caloric fluctuations.

Where do carbs come in?

One’s carbohydrate consumption is uniquely hewed to our sense of caloric sufficiency. If carbs are plentiful, your body perceives that as a signal of environmental plenty: the weather is good, the plants are producing, the trees are bearing fruit, the men are bringing back lots of honey. Life is good. It’s the perfect time to get pregnant. Above all other macronutrients, carbohydrate consumption increases the short-term expression of leptin, a satiety hormone that signals the presence of incoming calories, caloric sufficiency, and environmental plenty.

There’s also the issue of extreme satiety. Low-carb diets often become low-calorie diets without you even trying. That’s why they work so well for fat loss, by inadvertently reducing the amount of food you eat and increasing satiety. But for some women, especially those at or approaching their ideal weight, going too low in calories can increase stress.

Summing Up…

Are you unable to access your own body fat in between meals for energy? Then you’ll be a ball of stress unless you can get those Jolly Ranchers unwrapped quickly enough. It’ll be a constant battle. And yeah, if you keep pumping yourself full of carbs to keep your blood glucose topped off, you’ll keep stress at bay—but you’ll always be teetering on that precipice.

Are you exercising? Then you should strike a balance between gaining the adaptive benefits of training in a low-carbohydrate state and eating the carbs you earn.

Are you a woman? Then you’re probably more sensitive to diet-induced stress and may benefit from occasional carbohydrate refeeds. You should watch out for excessive satiety on ketogenic diets, which is great for fat loss but can lead to stress issues down the line if calories get too low.

The relationship between carbohydrates and stress isn’t exactly straightforward, but it is navigable. Hopefully after today you have a better idea of where you stand in the relationship.

What’s been your experience with stress and carbohydrates? Has your tolerance for stress gone up or down since going low-carb or keto? Thanks for stopping in today.

References:

Mcallister MJ, Webb HE, Tidwell DK, et al. Exogenous Carbohydrate Reduces Cortisol Response from Combined Mental and Physical Stress. Int J Sports Med. 2016;37(14):1159-1165.

Dirlewanger M, Di vetta V, Guenat E, et al. Effects of short-term carbohydrate or fat overfeeding on energy expenditure and plasma leptin concentrations in healthy female subjects. Int J Obes Relat Metab Disord. 2000;24(11):1413-8.

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