#because it feels like it removes the choice from the thing
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Happy Birthday, Aventurine!!
“Aventurine always tries not to remember. He's never synced the Sigonian calendar system to check the date in trailblaze calendar, never makes the mistake of dwelling on the memories surrounding this day— even when he's too drunk to remember his own name. Done everything possible to not acknowledge it; because this day feels like nothing but a curse to him.
Unfortunately, Jade has now ensured that he never gets to forget his birthday, again.”
Pairing: Aventurine x reader
Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Comfort in the end to compensate for everything else ❤️ Reader is not physically present in the fic (they're not dead it's ok)
wc: 3.3k
Aventurine was abruptly interrupted by a knock on the door just as the sun began to slant westward.
With a sigh, he puts down the pen and glances at the wall clock. The hands on the parchment-shaped monstrosity read 1 pm, but his eyes are drawn back to the purple tongue protruding from its massively extended mouth. Seriously, where does Stelle find these items? "An ugly, purple parchment shaped wall clock that looks like it's ready to eat people"— isn't something most people would think to give him, to say the least. But that's the thing—it was Stelle.
She claimed to have found it during one of her "excavations." And even though Miss March 7th did her best to keep her friend from going into further details, stepping on Stelle's toes right in front of him and giving her a sidelong glance, as if he wouldn't notice, he could tell what kind of "excavations" would turn up something like this. Not like he minds the origins of this gift, however. Gifts from friends are few and far to come by, especially ones who actually tolerate him. Not to mention, Stelle likely sincerely believes that it's a cool gift, which is why it has replaced the diamond-embedded wall clock on his wall.
His musings are interrupted by a second knock, which, like the first one, reverberates once around the room before fading away in embarrassment. "Come in." He announces, reclining back in his seat and looking at the door with expectation in his eyes. It was not uncommon for his secretary to appear randomly in his office, constantly fussing over yet another minor issue. He believed it was her; at least, his itinerary showed he didn't have any guest visits today. Maybe it was time to replace assistants—the new hire is clearly not on the same wavelength as him. But he'd only recently had Topaz yell at him for changing staff so frequently; he'd prefer not to tell her that her choice was horribly disappointing just yet.
With a tiny bag bearing a brand he is all too acquainted with, the secretary enters the office. She keeps her gaze fixed on the floor the entire time, hence doesn't notice when her supervisor raises an eyebrow at the sight of his favorite jewelry brand. "Sir," she says in a low, somewhat flat voice, akin to that of a news reporter. "Earlier, a staff of Madam Jade stopped by. You have a present."
A grin appears on Aventurine's face, followed by a joyful chuckle. With how busy work has been lately, he'd almost forgotten when he asked Jade for a pink diamond, as has Jade apparently, seeing how long it's taken for her to send this. His request was a joke, of course, only meant to irritate Topaz. But he wasn't surprised either; Jade always takes good care of her weaponry. "Ahhh, no wonder!" He chirps and presses his palms together. "She must've finally found some generosity in her heart, hm?" He muses, and his assistant can only stand there stoically. He waves her off as she places the bag on his table and departs with an unnecessary low bow, never looking at his eyes once. As always.
When the secretary has left the room, he opens the bag, humming as he removes the box and gift card. Jade's handwriting is distinctive: prim and precise cursive that resembles a font.
"Happy birthday, Aventurine. This jewel would suit you far better than the pink diamond you asked for, don't you think?" — Jade
Kakavasha freezes. His birthday, she says, but she'd need to align the standard calendar system to the Sigonian one to find that out. She sent him a…..….a gift? For his birthday?
Is this a fucking joke?
The box reveals a chunk of corundum. Raw, uncut, pink and blue hues all over. Shades way too close to his eyes, and it doesn't take a gemologist to tell that Jade had done her searching thoroughly to obtain this. A jewel the color of his eyes, the color of Avgin eyes, neatly wrapped in a box for….to send ..what sort of message, exactly? Oh Avgin, never forget who you were before I found you—unpolished and undeserving. forget your name, but never your roots.
The note is crumpled and thrown in the trashcan, while the corundum and its box are hastily and carelessly pushed back into the bag. Really, so typical of Jade, he scoffs as he tosses the godforsaken bag into a random drawer, never to be seen again.
Kakavasha— no, Aventurine always tries not to remember. He's never synced the Sigonian calendar system to check the date in trailblaze calendar, never makes the mistake of dwelling on the memories surrounding this day— even when he's too drunk to remember his own name. Done everything possible to not acknowledge it; because this day feels like nothing but a curse to him.
Unfortunately, Jade has now ensured that he never gets to forget, again.
In any case, Aventurine concludes that it is not good for him to worry about this too much. Yes, he can just forget about the corundum. Yes, he is able to forget how it resembled Avgin eyes. Yes, he can also forget that Jade most likely sent this to "keep him in check" following the stunt he did in Penacony. But it was a mistake on his part to not see something coming. She had done this before, and it would not be the last time. He smiles at his own reflection in the bathroom mirror, composed, shrewd, and calculated. Since a mirror has the freedom of choice, it does not return his smile.
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By the time the car comes to a stop in front of his house, Aventurine is exhausted. His chauffeur unlocks the door for him, and he makes his way to the elevator. Yet he's interrupted again— of course, because it's a cursed day, and Aventurine has to restrain himself from scowling at the gateman, who stands in front of him wearing an anxious expression. "Sir, your friend had visited earlier to drop off something."
He raises an eyebrow and is about to inquire when he notices the bag the man is carrying. Without saying anything further, he simply takes the bag. You are the only one who'd own a dumb clockie bag and the only one who'd ever drop things off at his place.
When he steps in, his three catcakes meow loudly to greet him, and feels somewhat grateful for it. Today was just too exhausting, after all. He understands what this is about, based on the fact that you always give him gifts in person. Why, of all days, would you consider dropping it off today? And with no advanced notice- completely unlike you. How annoying, did Jade really have to do this too? He's never disclosed his birthday to you, so you probably coerced her into telling you, and she was glad to oblige, given you are of value to her.
Aventurine doesn't realize he's been standing in the kitchen for a long time until Spade begins massaging its fluffy body on his legs. He is surrounded by his three catcakes, who are all staring up at him expectantly. The message is crystal clear: We Want Food. He moves swiftly to get their food bowls, chuckling to himself before setting your lunchbox on the counter, sort of as an afterthought. At least they'll be able to go to bed well fed tonight.
After serving them dinner, he leaves the kitchen carrying a bottle of wine, hoping to spend the remainder of the evening crashing on the couch. He can just leave everything else for tomorrow. The benefit of drinking is that it can temporarily impair your ability to sense emotions. He only needs a short term fix, after all. Come tomorrow, he'll take hangover pills, and walk out of this house as Aventurine of the stratagems again— undoubtedly.
He turns on a random B-grade movie, prepared to drink the night away. And he does precisely that—he pushes down thoughts of how his childhood friends, whose features now misty in his memories, would react if they were to see him. With another shot, he pushes down recollections of his mother's cooking—the special meals for the Kakava—and his birthday. Another to accept the now-blurry face of his sister in his memory as the only proof of her existence. Another to forget the clay dolls she'd made for him, on the last birthday kakavasha got to celebrate, that were broken when he had to run for his life. And one more shot, and another, till he's forgotten everything; till he's numb and emotionless.
Feeling empty and hollow is far worse than anything else, and being unable to cry isn't as pleasant as he thought it'd be. But in his lavish home, where gold abounds in every nook and cranny, he has little reason for tears. Money may not be able to buy him happiness, as he is well aware, but it certainly does spare him from ugly tears unfit for his visage. Maybe that's why he hasn't cried in a while, or perhaps he has simply lost his soul somewhere along the way. He stays on the couch till 3 am, accompanied by his pets. He pretends not to see the troubled looks they shoot at him, whispered words passed between them that are clearly about him. By the time he decides to rest for the night, he is fatigued, sluggish, and barely keeping it together.
When he gets up to grab a glass of water from the kitchen, Ace makes a protesting noise before promptly shutting up. Catcakes are smart creatures, and they understand him better than most individuals in his life (or maybe the difference lies in care) His throat is dry, and ice cold water from the freezer provides enormous relief. However, the respite is taken away from him by the crackling lightning, loud as a whip, pulling out memories up to the forefront of his mind again. Of the lightning without the rain, of Sigonia-IV. The drumming of the thunder is largely hidden by the concrete walls, so it isn't as hard on the ear—but it aches a lot more than it did before. Aventurine sneers to himself, dismissing the idea as ludicrous. As if.
The second time the thunder sizzles, Aventurine has to take a sharp breath and grip the countertop to steady himself. It sounds like playing dead in the bleeding streams of Sigonia-IV, like the booming cackle of the mocking thunder. Had he been an insolent child, just a little more doubtful than he already was, he'd believe it was Mama Fenge herself laughing at her so called "blessed child". The thunder sounds similar, but it's not the same. No, because this is still Aventurine and he's still here and those are someone else's memories, forgotten and buried in sand.
Aventurine sighs.
Drinking too much has never done any good to him.
Just as he is ready to leave the kitchen, he notices the lunchbox sitting the counter out of the corner of his eye. Oh, right. He hadn't even touched it. A distraction doesn't seem bad now, though. If he wants to fabricate a plausible lie about eating the food, he would at least need to know what kind of food you sent. If the mental image of your frown after discovering he never even looked at what you sent is what gives him the final push , he would never admit it.
The lunchbox has a plains bear cub logo: you've always been a sucker for cute things. He sets aside the little note attached for later this time, preferring to taste the dinner first. It looks like you chose to make him some kind of soup. Insulated lunchboxes are a blessing— because it's surely been well over half a day since you made it, yet it's still warm. While the presentation is relatively simple, it smells strangely comforting— effect of some potion? He's heard of those, but they're usually used for sick patients, no? Other than that, this is the first homemade meal he's having in a….while. Not that it matters. Aventurine isn't picky, and while the leafy greens are unfamiliar to him, he believes he can handle at least a tablespoon.
Even the largest avalanche can be triggered by the smallest of things. Just one spoonful, and yet it's enough to make his world stop.
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The dry, broken soil scraped against his bare feet, producing little clouds of dust in its wake. His strides were light and rapid, nearly tripping over himself with excitement and giddiness. Just a little more, and he'll reach the finish line. Even the Sun's typical glare felt kind today; warm and tender against his tanned skin. Jumping over the homemade hurdles, he reaches the finish line far ahead of his friends. They protest and pout, and he taunts them with the biggest smile on his face. The soles of his feet feel slightly sore from running barefoot, but Kakavasha wouldn't risk destroying his only pair of shoes for a game.
When he hears his sister's voice calling for him, he rushes to embrace her and buries his face in her apron. His mother once told him that the Avgins all possess lovely voices, but Kakavasha believes his sister's is the best, especially when she laughs.
"And when will you listen to me and stop running around in the middle of the day, hm?" She pinches his nose and uses her apron to wipe the dirt off his face. Kakavasha beams at her with no regrets, proudly displaying the gap between his teeth. Once kakavasha had said his goodbyes to his friends, they walk hand in hand towards their tent.
There, his mother welcomes them with a warm embrace that smells like creosote bush and desert rain. “My darling," she coos, putting his small hands in her larger ones, rough from labour. "I remember you promised to be on time for lunch last time?" He grins cheekily, vowing not to do it again. (He's a repeat offender, but he knows that his mother and sister can't stay upset at him for long.)
His mother laughs, and tells him to tidy up before eating. Kakavasha's tummy is grumbling by the time he returns, and he finds the mats his sister laid down to sit on. The two siblings sit next to each other, chatting and giggling as they wait for their mother. She serves them a pot of hot soup with nettle leaves and lentils, just the way Kakavasha prefers it. He's overjoyed; quickly finishing his prayers before digging in. Kakavasha is a growing boy, and that's proved again when he finishes his bowl before his family.
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The soup she'd served him back then wasn't anything lavish; just a simple soup with local herbs and nettle leaves in a broth that smelt so uniquely of hers. His mama may have had a knack for cooking, but due to a lack of opportunities and resources, she never got to demonstrate her abilities. Compared to that, your food is much finer, and while excellent, it lacks the warmth of his mother's hands.
Nevertheless, he can't resist taking another spoonful and quickly putting it in his mouth because the familiarity is so, so palpable. He recalls that his sister wanted him to eat better, so she gave him half of her portion after he finished his. His mother then gave his sister half of her portion, as they are Both growing children. All of a sudden, the bickering, the laughs, and their voices are as plain as day in his mind. He can't fully recall the glitter in his sister's eyes or the dimple on his mother's cheek, but it's clearer than any other memory he had of them, that's for sure.
Aventurine can't stop crying, even if he wants to. Trying to halt the choking sobbing is fruitless, as is trying to figure out what's going on. He picks up the little message with shaking hands, hoping—praying—that it will help. You'll make it make sense. Somehow.
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“Dear Aventurine, I hope you have a wonderful birthday!!!!”
Written in thin, flowing, rounded letters that are noticeably cleaner than your actual handwriting. You undoubtedly put a lot of effort into each letter you wrote. Aventurine was correct in assuming you found out his birthday through Jade, as you have written it here. "Buying a gift for you seems…a little perfunctory," you said, "so I've settled with cooking you something myself."
"And if the dish tastes familiar (which I hope it does) then yes, you've guessed it right— it's a traditional Avgin dish."
The perfumed ink is thicker here, a few ink blots from where you've likely paused to think, go over each sentence in your head before writing them down.
You mention finding the Avgin dishes by reading some kind of research paper on Sigonian culture and food, but Aventurine isn't sure he can believe that. You wrote, "I was fortunate enough," yet chance alone wouldn't get you something like that. Sure, maybe some doctoral candidate was crazy enough to choose a dead planet and its deader tribes to write about, but finding that paper would be too difficult. The biggest issue, however, is that Aventurine believes this dish should not and cannot exist. The stinging nettle leaves his mother used are no longer available, and while he didn't know much about cooking at the time, he was aware that all of the spices he knew were almost extinct. He's looked enough to know.
"I'll be honest, I had some trouble locating the ingredients for it and had to swap the majority of them because I couldn't find them. I really wanted to bring back a familiar feeling, even if it tastes very different from how you remember it. Plus, it's the thought that counts, right?"
In contrast to the light-hearted language, your writing is slightly wobbly and darker here, and Aventurine wonders if you realise your emotions seep through every single one of your actions, laid bare for the world to see.
Noting the disappearance of their owner, curious, the catcakes peep into the kitchen are immediately alarmed to see their owner sitting on the counter stool, sobbing and clutching a box. Spade, unsure of what to do, nuzzles it's head on Aventurine's leg, while the others meow in an attempt to calm him down. Aventurine hasn't sobbed in a long time—he can't remember how to anymore. His body shakes with each ragged and broken sob, sounding shattered and damaged, but he can't stop.
"I hope it brings you fond memories" is what you wrote down, but are you aware of the full impact of what you did for him? Most likely not. Aventurine cherishes all of his memories, including the unpleasant ones: as long as it involves his family. His misery knows no bounds, but he's only had a few years with his sister, and even fewer with his mother. So even the saddest memories are never forgotten, so he can preserve as much of them as possible. They live through his memories, after all.
Even when plain, his mother's meals provided him with more warmth than anything else back then. To feel that warmth decades later is a blessing he can't repay— but a blessing nonetheless. He doesn't have many memories like this one either, gentle and happy, contrary to the endless memories of struggling. He remembers their love so vividly right now, feels it so strongly, alongside yours— that he has no choice but to revel in it.
(Come tomorrow , when he's sober, puffy-eyed from crying and not as vulnerable, he'll have trouble figuring your reasoning. But for now, he'll be fine. Tonight, he'll go to sleep feeling loved. Tonight, his pets will cuddle him to sleep. Tonight, he'll dream of a Sigonia Only he knows.)
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A/N: I'm honestly still so embarrassed about this bc I have an idea but can't execute it like I want to and 🫠🫠 As always, comments and reblogs are really appreciated!! Thank you for reading <3
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Hi Indie !
First of all, I truly love your version of TMNT. Your dialogues are so good and the designs are great. In terms of writing it kind of reminds me of the Webtoon comic: Batman, Wayne Family Adventures in the way that it’s a brilliant take on a famous franchise.
Also, I kind of had a question and a request.
I noticed a change of style with the color scheme you have now compare to your previous sketches. Like before, Mickey’s stickers were colored and blood was red when those elements are now in black and white. My question is why the change ? Not that it’s a bad choice or it doesn’t fit in you aesthetic, I was just genuinely wondering😁.
As for my request, well I’m French and I really enjoy doing translation either from French to English or from English to French. Therefore I was wondering if you were okay with me doing a French version of your comics ? If you’re not, I totally understand so no worry😁
I can’t wait for the next chapter !!! I wish all the best !
Aw thank you so much! I’m so glad you love the art and the writing! I’ve never read that webcomic, but I’ve heard about it before! I’ll take it as a compliment! ^v^
That is an excellent question! Basically I wanted to reduce the colors on the pages to just the colors of one of the characters items.
I’ve actually been cutting down on color usage since TMS (April’s hair and Casey’s under shirt were colored red and mauve respectively in ROTP but not in TMS) since I felt that it made for some very odd color things, like it felt like too much color be stylistic, but too little to be fully colored? Idk I just didn’t like it, so in TMS every character was allotted two colors: one eye color and one outfit color. That made it a lot simpler and drastically decreased the feeling I had about the colors.
That reason is also why I cut Mikey’s sticker colors. I did think about it, but I decided against it because it felt odd to give Mikey three colors and everyone else one. He’s not the MC, so like, it just seemed like an odd design choice to continue with.
The removal of using red for blood is a bit more complicated. I actually considered making it red in Indie TMNT, but I ended up not because of a few reasons.
1: Red is Raph’s color, it should be used as such (every character only got one color anyway, reusing the color makes it feel less special that it’s there)
2: flushing, whether because of love or illness or embarrassment or whatever, was also being shaded with red because it’s caused by blood, and I just didn’t really like the way it looked? I dunno probably a personal thing? I won’t say why cause I don’t wanna put the thought in your heads, but specifically with Donnie’s face being red from his fever in TMS, I just didn’t like it.
3: I found that the color red makes wounds more graphic. Not sure why? I found with TMS I was having to censor Leo’s wounds more than I anticipated. They were originally so much more disgusting when the red was added that I had to add a lot more black to be comfortable with the drawing. I’m satisfied with my results, I think I struck a good balance, but it did kind get me thinking since I plan to make Indie TMNT just as gory.
Its original purpose for being added was because wounds were key plot points in both ROTP and TMS and I wanted you to pay attention to them and remember them. Now, that’s not to say they’re not important in Indie Tmnt, but I found with the increased violence I was adding (because murder is okay in this comic) it felt unnecessary. Almost every fight scene has splatters of blood that aren’t really that plot related, so it’s not the same as TMS which follows 2012’s no blood or injuries in fights rule until it’s shattered. So in addition to all the other reasons listed, I felt it was fine to get rid of the usage of red for blood and other injuries in this comic.
TLDR: I want each character’s color to be special and they only get one cause I’m lazy and I think it looks cooler. Red blood makes people squeamish but black blood doesn’t 🤷♀️ also less important in this comic
As for your request: YES!! I’m totally okay with it, you absolutely may! I would love that! However you decide to do it, just be sure you credit me as the original author of the comic and send me a link when your done so I can post it on the comic masterpost for anyone who wants the translation to read!
Good questions! :]
#tmnt#q&a#indie tmnt#indie’s turtles#That was a lot longer than I thought it be lol#Wow who knew I could rant about the meaning of color for like 4 paragraphs 💀#Guess it comes with the job??#If you read all that here’s a cookie 🍪
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Okay, Phi, that's like 3 follow-up questions!
Good thing I like waffling though
1. Okay, yes, I do think it's possible Rex is spiralling. Part of it is likely to be a result in a drop of adrenaline after the events took place, a kind of "oh shit that could've been really bad" moment. And I wouldn't be surprised if it's all linked to "what ifs". What if the venator hadn't crashed and he was able to remove the chips from his brothers? What if the venator hadn't crashed and they were still unable to help their brothers because they were outnumbered by people trying to kill them? What if Rex hadn't been able to get to the Batch and help them get the chips out? What if he had managed to get their earlier? What if Fives had never warned him about the chips in the first place? What if the chips had never existed to begin with?
I think there is a lot going on in Rex's head at that point and I think the guilt and the fear is eating away at him. He went from fighting with his brothers to fighting them and that's a horrible thing for Rex to try and come to terms with.
2. I think the idea of a clones PTSD being influenced by the presence of the chip is interesting and I don't know if I have an answer for it. I think the way they react is going to change depending on what the circumstances were when the chip was removed. For Rex and Wrecker, it was taken out when it was activated. They were stuck in an internal battle of knowing that they didn't want to hurt their brothers but that they had no choice and that these people who are enemies of the Empire were trying to make Rex and Wrecker one of them, which the chip is telling them is wrong, but the part of them to hasn't responded to it is telling them that it's right. There is so much going on there to unpack.
On the flip side you have the rest of the Batch who had an inactive chip taken out, but were faced with reality of what could have happened to them had it activated, as well as the reality of what could have happened if Rex hadn't been there to take the chip out.
I don't to what extent Rex's PTSD has been influenced by the chip itself (alongside the chip's absence and removal) but so much happened that is going to result in trauma. I think his PTSD could have been made worse by the fact that he knew how it felt and that he literally watched that whole thing play out in front of him real time (a nightmare become reality) while also feeling immense guilt for not preventing it in the first place.
3. Partly yes and partly something else. I think it's not only a reminder of his brothers, especially the ones he buried, but a reminder of what was. That helmet represents Rex's entire life and purpose: a Captain's uniform, in 501st blue, scuffed and marked and battered by the war he was made to fight in. And now all of that is just... over. His identity as a solider and as a clone is tied up in that helmet and yet it represents an army and a life that no longer exists. I think it's both a reminder of the helmets of the brothers he buried and a reminder of the part of him that died when Order 66 happened.
guys do you think Rex was so invested in extracting the clones that woke up from the chips control because he realised that if his venetor hadn’t crashed his men could’ve woken up and been saved too
#you wanted like a full on essay right?#:))))))#tbf i have nothing else to do rn#i'm stuck on a train#so you get my uninterupted thoughts
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I fucking hate soulmate aus! But hear me out- skk soulmate au, Chuuya doesn’t have a soulmate for arhabaki reasons, Dazai doesn’t have a soulmate either for like other reasons, he’s just unlucky or smth idk. They find eachother, they skk it up, one of them is like ‘idk if I’m human man, I don’t have a soulmate’ and the other is like ‘yo me too????’ And then they KISS
#skk#I don’t like soulmate aus#because it feels like it removes the choice from the thing#like you’re just assigned a one true love and you don’t get a say in it#just ‘this is your bitch. don’t like it? get fucked!’#I don’t like fate I don’t like destiny I don’t like preplanned anything#it just feels like nobody gets an actual say in their life#your partner is supposed to be something you choose for yourself#idk if I’m making sense tbh#anyways#so like it could play into both their ‘I’m not human’ thing#cause like everybody has a soulmate- how can they be human if they don’t have one? clearly this is proof that they’re not human#bsd soukoku#bsd chuuya#dazai#bsd dazai osamu#chuuya nakahara#bsd shitpost#bsd chuuya nakahara#dazai osamu
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no one on the bumble friends app is giving me what I need/am looking for. so it's making me want to give up and delete the app. it exhausts me to do small talk with one person a week even if it only lasts for less than a day before they stop responding. I don't know what to do after that or when i'm allowed to move past it??? I know small talk is important to people so i'm trying to please them with a "proper" first impression but i'm still failing. no one ever told me what to do after that. I don't feel connected to them at all! and they obviously don't feel connected to me at all with the way they don't seem to be trying.
none of these people know how to lead. they don't do what I need them to do. maybe they're in the same predicament as me? they barely respond and don't initiate things. I need people that will lead and guide me through things since I don't know what to do! the type of people that know what they're doing and get you hyped because you just need to follow along and know everything will work out and be fine because they got this! the problem is, these types of people always already have a ton of friends and make them easily. they aren't the ones on these friend making apps. they don't need them! it's only us awkward, lonely weirdos who don't know how to interact with each other.
it's supposed to be an app to try to meet up with people irl. can any of these people plan a meetup for me?! why do I have to do all the work when i'm not capable of doing it in the first place??? I made two groups and a few people joined but I have no clue how to plan a meetup. that's much responsibility and don't have the spoons for that. someone needs to help me organize everything, but no one volunteered when I asked. i'm so lost and confused and exhausted and don't think i'll ever make friends 😭😭😭😭
#friendship problems#small talk#adult autism#autistic#autism#actually autistic#bumble bff#has anyone actually had success on that app? it feels pointless. i hate the whole swiping thing and small talk#and most people are bad at their profiles. they dont give me any info about themselves#or their profile just kinda sucks and i could be missing out on an actual good person/friend because they answered everything sarcastically#and didnt even try when filling out their profile. or what if someone rejects mine because of one thing i put and they misnudge me#there was one person that was exactly what i want but never heard from them because i originally had my profile set for cosplay friends#then changed it for summer activities friends and that person probably rejected me before i chamged it. i hate this#if it was a social media type thing where we can stalk accounts and have more context before being forced to do uncomfy small talk#or lose the chance to go back after rejection and possibly making a mistake...#i got 0 likes in a week when i had cosplay pics. then i removed them and got 30 in a week. how many great people have rejected me?#dumb useless app. but i have no other choices. theres no clubs and groups i can find near me. im too autistic for “normal” things
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our current dilema is that the pain from our wisdom tooth keeps getting so bad we have to take pain meds (like it keeps hitting an 8/10 for several hours at a time. we can't not take pain meds) but the only pain meds that touch it have a warning on them saying not to take them for more than 3 days in a row, and we have at least another month of dealing with this, so I don't really know what to do.
the warning is because they're opioids and can cause addiction but I don't actually know how bad the risk is because everything seems to treat it like opioids are the worst thing ever and should be avoided at all costs and you'll get addicted if you so much as glance at them.
either way, my options are to either keep taking them and just accept that risk, or deal with being in so much pain I can't function. even with taking the pain meds I can tell we're a lot more irritable and short tempered and probably just insufferable to be around honestly and I hate the fact that pain causes this, but once again we've got to deal with this for over a month and we've also got to deal with the anxiety over what the treatment for it is going to actually involve.
I've had to deal with medical trauma stuff I didn't even know about until like yesterday when Lucy suggested it might be part of why I feel so shit, and I've had multiple panic attacks per day and constantly feel way more anxious than usual and I get the feeling we're just gonnaa have to put up with this for the next month and I don't know how the fuck I'm meant to cope with any of this
#personal#thoughts#🍬 post#vent post#posts made on pain meds#there is absolutely nothing that gets rid of what essentially amounts to a constant sense of impending doom#like our brain has just fully decided we're fucked and going to die or some shit and now I have to deal with the anxiet from it doing that#and like I know logically we're gonna be fine and this is ridiculous#but I know we sometimes get a delusion where our brain just decides we're gonna die on a specific day or whatever#and I think that's flared up and combined with the severe medical anxiety#and since knowing a delusion isn't real doesn't do shit to stop you feeling like it's real#no amount of logic seems to be able to make our brain not freak out over this and make me have panic attacks because of it#we already had that delusion kind of going on in the background because something about this time of year seems to trigger it#and I guess having something planned that's incredibly triggering and causing that feeling a dread#probably just made our brain combine the two things#we also are definitely experiencing stress-induced psychosis just in general because I've been hallucinating so fucking much#actually I wonder if the fact that I've had to take pain meds so much might also be messing with our psychosis#I would like to maybe not have to deal with any of this#we were looking forward to just getting that one tooth removed and then resting and recovering and not having anything planned for a while#and instead we've got at least a month of dealing with this shit and I'm fucking exhausted#this year has basically just been me dealing with one unbelievably triggering thing after another because I have no other choice#like I keep being thrown into situations that involve triggers that I can't even think about without having panic attacks#there's a whole bunch of shit going on in our personal life and stuff just keeps piling up and we don't get a break from any of it
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So I'm adding to this after about twenty more hours playing it.
Yes it's a long ramble again. The last line sums it up for you.
Again I don't think it's a bad game; it's fun (once I removed the combat essentially. It does get repetitive very quickly though). Sometimes it does make me genuinely laugh. The music sometimes feels...Mass Effect. Like literally there's a few tracks that are too futuristic and I swear to every god I hear the main menu piano bits from one of the Mass Effects in a few. It's also...bland? There's no real identity to it. Like I can think of several tracks from previous games in a heartbeat, or just other games in general (DOS2 & Hades will forever be my favorites), but Veilguard...nope. It doesn't even get the benefit of my absorbing it unconsciously like Skyrim's. It's just...file not found.
But it's still so sanitized. It feels like Rook is supposed to be the protag of a Pokémon game? The type where it's all sunshine and rainbows and everyone gets along and power of friendship, you know?
Part of the problem, I think, is everyone in the game knows Rook's backstory, we don't. Rook knows their backstory; we don't. I saw someone mention there should've been like a handful of protagonist slides in the beginning, and I agree. It would've helped me to understand BioWare's MC, maybe care a little bit about them. But instead we find out about Rook's backstory via bits and pieces. Like Mercar apparently was found as a baby after a skirmish? And here I was thinking maybe they were orphaned or cast out onto the streets. Silly me. No. Mercar has never known anything but privilege I guess? Idk what the other Rooks familial status is (aside from the necro one) or if it ever gets brought up. But like knowing it up front would help me connect with this...person who has to be always funny (honestly the witty Rook is the only dialogues that make sense tonally for me?)
I get it. They want to be as inclusive as possible, but it comes at a very high cost. I don't really do evil routes myself, I'm more the redemption arc or anti-hero or just really reluctant hero type, so I get everyone is like "why do you want to be evil?" I don't. I just wish Rook had more personality, or our tonal choices matched what came out of their mouth? If I choose stoic/stern, I expect to be stern/stoic and not...impatient? I guess? Witty is the only one that always matches everything, everything else is just kinda blah, which begs the question why make it a choice? It takes away part of the roleplay.
And it's made worse, for me, by the fact that it is so sunshine and rainbows all the damn time? Again I understand they want everyone to feel seen, and some people don't like things like fantasy racism or classism or religious problems...
But...the major conflicts in DA involved those things? And now they are just swept aside and we are one musical short of a Disney movie.
So everything just lacks punch. Again we are told something is bad, but never allowed to witness why. It's like Bioware is an overly protective parent shielding our innocent eyes, going "oh no it's too terrible for you, we don't want you to feel bad."
So I, as someone who lives for angst because that's cathartic to me, just stop connecting to the characters because everyone's going to be nice, and there's no real conflict and the "hardening" makes no sense if you remember these aren't teenagers but fully fledged, battle-seasoned adults who know full-well Rook did send help but apparently the Veilguard Elite Force is useless without Rook...cough. Sorry, got salty about that again. (Don't get me started on Taash).
And all this light, this lack of something to balance it out makes the triumphs blah. Because...
Like I think of Hawke and the Warden on how invested I was in their story. Going through the prologues in Origins made me feel for those characters. I can still remember the gut punch and rage I felt playing a female City Elf, and knowing what was going on and murdering the entire castle, and feeling sick seeing Shianni. Or playing Mahariel and flirting with Tamlen, feeling like the "young love was in bloom" and having it all ripped away, and then him showing at camp? Oof, messed me up. I CRIED playing a Cousland and the sheer emotion in the goodbye scene. I teared up when my first Hawke lost Carver and then her mother and seeing the awkward and lack luster scene with a companion trying to comfort her...it hurt.
But that made the triumphs, the light moments, the humor, the storylines all the more sweeter.
The shadows that infested Thedas gave the characters depth and emotion. It made the journeys the characters went on mean more because I knew how bad it COULD be, and it felt like we could grow together as a team through the hardships and horrors.
Veilguard doesn't have that. There's no conflict between personalities or biases that need to be checked or opinions to change. Rook doesn't witness hardships and doesn't get a "COULD ONE THING IN THIS FUCKING WORLD JUST STAY FIXED?!" moment (so far...closest thing I got was telling Solas (still sickeningly polite for the angry option) to stop pretending he was doing a good thing (seriously the tone and the dialogue did not match the short "Quit the bullshit" tag; be angrier Rook! Tell him off!).
I replayed DA games so many times I can quote an obscene amount of lore, history, and direct lines. I did it because they were comforts to me, an escape from my own shitty life where there was something equally shitty going on and the characters reacted to it (like normal people, not witty one-liners) and even through that darkness I found a home in the characters, their stories, their journeys. We had ups and downs, and yes I'm a people pleaser so I memorized how to win everyone over completely, but that didn't detract from it, from getting to know these characters. It made me feel connected to them. I didn't love Varric because he was charming, I loved him because I could understand his need to slap a smile on and ignore the pain. I loved Fenris despite his hostility towards mages because I could understand it (I hate Anders because he is a toxic waste dump but I guess other people love him). I thought it beautiful that Fenris had to go on a little journey with me, learning to accept one mage at least and trust them.
Inclusivity does not mean pastel and rainbows; it means treating the dark topics with care and respect, giving warnings maybe or a toggle. Which I think is my main problem with the game.
Bioware forgot the darkness they scrubbed away...it's what made the light parts shine so bright.
Veilguard Thoughts
I just need to get my thoughts out of my head and the Void seems like a perfect place since I can’t write a review on console. I’m all for civil discussion, but at the end of the day this is my opinion/feelings after 20 hours. Perhaps it'll change once I finished the game, but I doubt it. Beware minor spoilers.
Warning: Incredibly long. TL;DR at the very end.
I’ll start this off by saying it’s not a bad GAME, just a bad DRAGON AGE. It runs nice (only had one crash, and minimal amount of stuttering on fidelity mode, one time the screen went completely black but the dialogue and music continued which was vaguely terrifying. Some movements are janky in cutscenes, but overall, not bad). It's pretty, I like some of the new designs. The music is nice.
I’m not a fan of this style of combat (never could jive with God of War or Bloodbourne; my preference for real time action is like Hades and DMC) mostly because I can’t cancel an action with dodge/block and the AI focuses solely on Rook so you end up getting swarmed and unable to properly see the flasher plus the timing is weird af. I tried playing on what I assume was supposed to be Casual mode (Keeper) because it said “emphasizes party composition over reflexes” and well…it lied. To the point that I was not having fun because the game is 70% combat, 20% exploring and 10% story. So I turned it to Story mode because I could not be bothered and enjoyed it slightly more. It feels very MMO, team-based, looter imo. The UI, how it handles, the depth of the story and how it goes about it (the Mission Accomplished Journal screens specifically), the emphasis on combat over anything else…
And here we get to my problem: I only enjoy it when I pretend it’s just a generic fantasy game and not Dragon Age. Because it doesn’t FEEL like a Dragon Age. It feels as soft as everyone’s skin texture. I don’t care about the story or the characters and it boils down to the writing.
It feels juvenile.
Like I loved DA because it was willing to confront the worst in humanity. The disgusting parts of war like Loghain selling elves to slavers, or the nunances of blood magic. Presenting choices that are morally grey like sacrificing the Circle or the Templars in DA2 (yes that choice was heavily forced and stupid but still). It didn’t shy away from it. There was levity, but the characters had multiple sides. They could get angry, they could get snappy or sappy. There was GROWTH to them. Zevran’s romance arc if you choose to reject the earring without more commitment was beautiful. DA2’ romances were…a little stilted, but I still enjoyed them. Inquisition also had lovely little arcs, depending on the romance. But even friendships felt natural as you got to know these people.
And Veilguard falls flat. They were okay with pissing off the culture war babies with trans/nonbinary options, but not with showing us the bad things. The game TELLS us “this is bad”, but doesn’t show why. They have their soap box moment of “slavery bad” like it’s not 2024 and anyone worth the air they breathe knows that, how about you still show that since we are IN THE HEART OF THE SLAVE TRADE?! Where’s the option to maybe be an escaped slave? An escaped Saarebas? They refuse to give us blood magic because “it’s messy” Yeah. It is. That’s the point. Maybe let me decide if that's a line I'd like to cross? No? Necromancy is fine? It’s like we traded the dark adult themes for better sex scenes.
The major choice I’ve gotten to means NOTHING outside of metagaming. It’s like they were trying to show they could be edgy or that “now now you can’t save everyone because we say so and we are going to force one of your companions to hate you”. And it boils down to who you want to romance, who is vital as a support character, and which faction do you prefer? Has nothing to do with anything else and there’s no way to fix this forced hardening, so have fun with that I guess? It’s not like I chose the dialogue options or anything, it feels as shoe horned in as DA2’s ending tbh. Like here have a shitty decision for no other reason than we want you to.
Then BioWare seems to have tried to both cater to the newbies and the ones who read/watch/listen to the extra media and fail to find a middle ground. It relies too heavily on codexes and journals and other media (which was my gripe with Inquisition) to do the heavy lore lifting (for example as someone who did not read Tevinter Nights yet nor listened to the third-party podcast, I have no connection to Rook's backstory).
But at the same time, it treats us like we are stupid? Going back to how juvenile the writing feels: it repeats itself a horrific amount. Every time Solas says “the Evanuris” it’s apparently a contractual obligation for him to say “or the elven gods as you would call them” immediately after. The amount of freaking out about them CONSTANTLY is like they are afraid we forgot after an hour. And again I kept thinking: how about you stop telling me they are terrible and why I should be scared and SHOW me? D’Meta did nothing because I didn’t see it happen like watching Loghain call the retreat after watching darkspawn slaughter the army. Another example in the beginning is after you get the dagger, you speak with Harding and you can discuss magic. Rook notes they know dwarves are called Children of the Stone. Five seconds later Harding goes in the most “I’m speaking to a toddler” tone: “Dwarves call ourselves Children of the Stone. Some of us have what we call Stone sense.” Like…Rook would know that??? If newbies are confused they can go look in the glossary (isn’t that what that’s for?) or give an option to ask a question. It just feels so fucking patronizing.
Then it spoils so much of the story with the Varric interludes, or repeats itself AGAIN when I think they are there for style and suspense. Like Varric I already know they need to craft a red lyrium dagger, they straight up TOLD ME. That scene didn’t need to be in there at all. Solas’ little monologue rehashing everything in the beginning was unnecessary, and honestly him just telling us who we were against without us first seeing how bad it was…just…It took the suspense out of it. Like imagine if Inquisition straight up told you that Corypheus was the baddie just immediately in the Temple of Sacred Ashes prologue scene. That’s what it felt like.
Which brings me to the dialogue and characters I suppose. The companions have the depth of a shallow pool and Rook has less. They have moments where I like them, but tbh I don’t really care for any of them because how could I? I can’t talk to them. It feels empty. I like that they have lights telling me when I have new dialogue, but I miss having conversations with Dorian or Zevran, getting to know them before I started flirting with them. But nope. None of that. And good god the flirting is cringey because of it. Just comes out of nowhere and feels like teenagers. Again, there are moments where I’m like: THAT DO THAT, but it goes right back to the blah stuff. Like whoever wrote the Crows, good job. I loved Teia almost immediately. Viago great. Illario, I’m intrigued. Lucanis by default also interests me, but unfortunately, I don’t get to explore his character much. Irelin is also good. I liked the Veil Jumper fight you could get into with Strife (felt like witnessing a father/child yelling match). Where’s that sort of dialogue with everyone else?
And ROOK. Oh god Rook. They make a big deal about us not being able to be a people pleaser, and yet that’s the only personality Rook has. My favorite moment of Inquisition was in Trespasser where the Inquisitor could FINALLY have a human moment and BREAK. It felt like they had been bottling it up for so long and they just couldn’t anymore. I don't foresee Rook getting that sort of moment.
Rook is just three flavors of customer service. There’s no option for them to be anything but the dashing hero who has boundless optimism like a puppy. Where’s the option be the reluctant hero? The ruthless “hero”? They are just a bumbling idiot with witty one liners.
They feel like a teenager’s first protag as they try to give them “flaws” but never show those flaws. Nothing you do matters, just how you say “yes I’ll help”. There’s no nuance. No places where I think Rook can grow without ME. Rook is just a blank doll without me projecting onto them and even in BIG supposedly heartwrenching moments, Rook is just an idiot. And put them with the juvenile and forced dialogue of the companions? It feels like they are a pre-teen who’s been put in charge of a bunch of toddlers while the nice uncle tries to soothe them and the abusive dad yells.
The abusive dad is Solas btw. Varric says he views us all as children, to which I want to reply: yeah and he’s a piece of shit dad who rubs their toddler’s face into their diaper going “LOOK AT THE MESS YOU MADE BAD BAD BAD!” Like honestly, you can tell it’s not the same people writing these characters. Solas feels like they decided the low approval Solas was the canon no matter what. In Inquisition I truly felt like he was redeemable. This Solas? Nah, I want to stab that bitch first chance. Like he’s giving me no reason to like him and he’s being a dick for no fucking reason. Maybe later on we learn a reason, but in 20 hours there’s ZERO. That’s a problem if you are trying to get me to see his side of things. And the tonal shifts from when he shows that he regrets stabbing Varric? Feel forced, like my dude I think you are lying just because you seem to be unable to comprehend half of this is YOUR fault.
Which ties into my last gripe: this is not MY Thedas. The decision to make only the last fifteen minutes of a paid DLC mean ANYTHING (and tbh I have yet to find where the hell it actually matters in 20 hours. I have two saves about the same amount of progress: one Solavellan and the other Dorian, they are basically the exact opposite choices. I can't say I've found where anything has changed, so what was that about them not wanting to do one bit of dialogue???? At least in Inquisition within the first two hours I could find those bits of dialogue) that decision made it where none of these characters matter to me. They feel more like carrots dangling in front of long-time players trying to entice us closer, but when you grab the carrot…it just vanishes.
That’s not MY Morrigan. That’s not MY Varric, MY Solas, MY Dorian. They are NewBioWare’s versions of them. The Inquisitor? The character I played over 100 hours as isn’t MINE. They are a stranger because they tore away any agency I had. They just picked whatever personality they wanted and said LOOK SEE CONNECTION. But there’s no history, no connection, NOTHING. There’s so many places where I can see where they could’ve done something. And if I can see them, why couldn’t anyone at BioWare?
They forgot that DA’s uniqueness wasn’t just the companions (and these ones are just below DA2’s since we didn’t get to interact with them either, so…), it was the world and how it reacted to choices in previous games. How new heroes might have to deal with the consequences (and to be fair, no DA game has ever actually managed to deliver on that, but they at least TRIED).
This though…
TL;DR: this should’ve felt like a homecoming and instead it feels like BioWare demolished my home, spray painted the ruins with soft pastels and is trying to tell me it’s the same, if not better. And it’s not, and probably never will be again.
#dragon age 4#the veilguard#minor spoilers#talking to the void#dragon age veilguard spoilers#pay no attention to the bird behind the curtain#I just needed to get the thoughts out of my head#long ramble because I have feelings again#And can't talk about them anywhere else#Even harding's talk about the Inquisition felt empty#Because there won't be any differing dialogues#I don't think I'll replay this one since nothing#not even Rook's personality will change#Only meaningful change is the faction stuff#but I can just look up videos for them#and the different romances#which also move slow as hell for about maybe an hour's worth of content#and I doubt there will be unique dialogue to reflect them so...#Even less reason to replay#Which is sad
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takes that r like Feminine women are so oppressed for being feminine. will ALWAYS annoy me. like yes, obviously feminine women r oppressed bc women r oppressed and femininity is seen as weakness under the patriarchy - etc. but it’s crazy to act like “gender non-conforming” women aren’t punished way more… and by “gender non-conforming” i don’t even mean being ESPECIALLY “masculine” (although obviously they are) i just mean like. being a woman who doesn’t shave or wear makeup in the professional world💀it’s crazy if u think women who opt out of these feminine social rituals are somehow LESS oppressed than the ones who rly buy into it. like yeah you’re not taken seriously if you’re so #elle woods blonde “bimbo” pink and mini skirts or whatever & (some) men will think you’re stupid but like i hate to break it to you but they’ll do that *anyway*? men don’t take women less seriously for loving feminine things particularly, they just take women less seriously if they love anything 💀sure obviously this has its exceptions - like a girl in a group of nerds might easily be taken much less seriously if she likes the colour pink and wears skirts in comparison to “acting like a boy” but at the school prom they could easily still expect her to put on a dress and makeup while the rest of them wear suits… and anyway even if they didn’t like. that’s one instance and it’s not a systemic issue. i WISH we had never popularised the phrase ‘not like other girls’ as a disparaging comment and i wish people could be a little normal about women who don’t conform 100%, please
#like no offence but your inability to leave the house without makeup IS a feminist issue. your need to shave every few days and your belief#that ‘it’s not a misogyny thing i just feel cleaner’ IS a feminist issue because body hair is natural dude and you can’t remove it from the#social context#obviously you can do what you want but choice feminism has ruined a generation of girls ability to think#oliver talks#feminism
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2 & 3 from section 1 for peri and 7 from whichever section has a more interesting #7 for diodore -moss
oooh these are fun ones!
2. Describe their tent set-up (outside and inside) (Peri)
I think Peri's tent is constructed similarly to Gale and Astarion's (boxy, fabric walls, little covered area outside). Deep blue fabric w/ golden astronomical embroidery, mostly the sort of thing you see on star maps. Little golden tassles around the edges of the tarp (?) and the doorframe. He'd have a small, circular, dark wood side table short enough that you can use it sitting on the ground, and a dark blue pillow next to it; there would be some parchment and a bronze miniature astrolabe on the table. The inside would be just. full to the brim with the gaudiest night-sky-themed pillows you've ever seen. No bedroll, no palette, just a nest that would put those cube pits in trampoline parks to shame. There would be two bird perches for his familiar Medani: one taller one next to his tent and one shorter one under the overhang. The shorter one would have a crow-sized bow-tie hanging from it. Rugs on rugs on the outside area ofc. 3. What would their character quest be titled? Why? (Peri)
This is a hard one! His tav ending involves taking over the Waterdeep arm of the Harpers, so I think his arc would have something to do with that. He'd be pretty bitter about being dropped into another near-apocalyptic mess when dealing with the last one a few years prior was supposed to be a one-time thing. Something-something ptsd in a world that doesn't have the words for that yet, something-something 'once a hero always a hero', something-something the weight of responsibility...he's a planeswalker so I think part of it would be whether he decides to stay on Toril long-term and directly help rebuild the Waterdeep Harpers or if he continues to run travel around afterwards, so maybe The Far Traveller/The Far Walker?
Harpson/Fae-son are also potential options. "Fae-son" nods to him being a changeling without it being super obvious (like Astarion's "The Pale Elf"). It would also mimic his backstory reveals from RoT ("oh he's not 'from here' so, like, the Feywild" -> "OH he's not from here"). 7. Describe their arc. How would a player help resolve it? What choices can be made? Can your Tav be turned down a dark path, or pulled to a lighter one? (Diodore)
Buckle up because we're in for a long one here. I've thought about Dora's story arc a lot because she's the first of my tavs that I truly made for the game while having full control over her backstory, etc. (versus Corentin, who had their arc baked into the story as a durge). Dora's a paladin of Corellon (oath of ancients) and her story arc as a companion would have to do with whether or not she should accept capital-r-Redemption, the process by which a drow can be truly "freed" from Lolth and rejoin the ranks of the rest of elven society. It involves all of the Redeemed drow's memories being erased and them being reincarnated as a surface elf. The implication seems to be that without that, regardless of a drow's actions, they'd be thrown back to Lolth when they die? Or at least that their eternal fate is unknown (which is the way I prefer to think of it for. personal reasons). Under normal circumstances, Dora would be a long way from Redemption being presented to her at all (she's not even 200 yet and has only been on the surface for a couple decades), but like with the other gods' Chosen among the companions, near-apocalyptic circumstances tend to speed up those sorts of things.
Of course, you'd have the themes of faith & relationship with deity when they're all unequivocally real and are also mostly all assholes; maintaining or breaking generational cycles; facing the unknown; morality when none of your choices are "good" (and how that interacts with morality vs self preservation); power vs freedom; identity outside of the people who made you; etc. The choice would first be presented to her sometime in late Act I/early Act II, likely the first long rest after the group resurfaces from the Underdark and you've probably gotten some of her backstory already. I have no idea how Larian would have characterized Corellon, but he's considered one of the more benevolent/open-minded deities iirc, which could be interesting to see contrasted with Mystra, Vlaa'kith, and Shar. How much that open-mindedness would extend to a drow, even one who has been a faithful follower even before she escaped to the Surface (and who inherited that faith from her father), is unclear. At the beginning of the game she would be leaning towards accepting Redemption, despite her own misgivings about whether or not she would still be her in that case.
Her final decision (at the ending pier scene) would depend on the relationship she has with the PC and the other companions. Her best ending, imo, would be her not accepting Redemption but continuing to be a force for good. If she has a good relationship with the PC, she would have something to lose. I think seeing the House of Mourning would affect her too. After all, the thing Corellon is offering to her as a way to find peace is the same thing the Sharrans are using as a way to manipulate and control others.
She's viscerally aware of how she was socialized and very actively chooses "good", so pushing her towards a darker path would be incredibly difficult but not impossible. If you side with the goblins she'll leave immediately, and turn on you if she's in your party when you attack the grove. But if you decide to try and control the cult in Act II, depending on your over-all actions before then and how you've interacted with her, you could disillusion her to the point of convincing her to break her oath. That path would entail convincing her that controlling the cult is actually the best idea. I'm sure there would be other times that her oath could break that wouldn't necessarily lock her into an "evil" path, especially with how Oathbreakers are handled in the game. Knocking out Minthara instead of killing her outright and letting Auntie Ethel go in Act I instead of killing her are two things that come to mind.
If she doesn't choose Redemption she would be at the epilogue party, of course. I'm a bit undecided on what would happen if she does choose Redemption. She may not be there at all, w/ Jaheira, Halsin, Minthara, and/or Astarion mentioning running into her in her new, reincarnated state. Or she would be there, confused, and mention how the PC seems familiar in a way she can't quite place. In that case, she would ask them how they know each other and mention something about feeling a twinge of grief looking at everyone, but that she doesn't know why she feels that way. It would be up to the PC how much they tell her (if they tell her anything at all).
#ty for the ask mossy!!#and sorry for the wait lol a couple of these stumped me for a minute#thinking about peri & jaheira as narrative parallels...#b/c i want to be clear here. peri was and is *not* looking for more responsibility re: harpers#he was perfectly happy doing security systems. him not seeking power was an active character choice i made for him b/c he's a wizard#but in the Faerun In My Head (tm) the Waterdeep Harpers also get decimated by the Absolute b/c why would they not? theyd be a major threat#especially b/c their high harper was the catalyst for forming the lord's alliance and. like. you think they're *not* reconvening?#for Weird Cult Two: 2 Cult 2 Furious??#gortash would take remallia OUT if at all possible#and also I like torturing my characters#and i think the whole 'weight of duty'/hero's curse (once you get drawn into one situation you can't ignore the others/they come to you)#thing is interesting for peri in particular. the man just wants to live a quiet life and he will! for the most part.#just now with thousands of lives in his hands b/c he's helped stop 2 apocalypses and is irrevocably tied to the fate of the Coast now#his conscious wouldn't let him just leave the Harpers or Waterdeep to rot. and that seems to be similar to the situation jaheira's in#generational cycles the cruel march of time history repeats itself etc etc#that's also why i think he would get Weave'd and have an unusually long lifespan. he wanted to rest and the universe said “no <3”#i think about dora's story a lot also because the whole 'you can be redeemed (from something you were born with)#but only by removing integral parts of yourself' thing hits *right* in the religious trauma#you cant tell me there wouldn't be *some* part of a Redeemed Drow's soul that remembers the people from before they were changed#unless they just. get a new soul in which case it literally isn't them anymore.#doras first real & healthy relationships happen in-game#thats part of why she's drawn to astarion. his bullshit is predictable to her and therefore feels safer.#definitely safer than whatever is going on with the others#(also why she trusts karlach so quickly: she's straightforward and blunt & doesn't really hide things?#and was also the only one to warn her against astarion. dora'd literally never had someone like that in her life before so it stuck)#and she'd feel a bit uncomfortable w/ the concept of Redemption at first but who is she to argue with a god?#esp one who seems kinder than many of the others#but as the story progresses she realizes that she *can* trust these people and that they trust her#and she sees how Gale and Shadowheart and Lae'zel are struggling w/ their deities#and not only does she have something to lose now but she's seeing more of how the gods work generally
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。yours, always yours
synopsis. satoru has always been yours—and he needs you to know you’ll also always be his
— word count. 2.4k (read the breakup fic first for better understanding, but can be read as a stand-alone)
— contents. fem! reader, college! au, rich boy! gojo, post-getting back together angst that gets a little heated <3, minors do not interact, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, satoru cumming too quick <3, creampie, tbh the smut is short and a lil rushed my b, it ends in fluff tho !! trust !! there is fluff !!
— notes. tbh this will probably get flagged rly fast but oh well u win some u lose some. anywayyyyy here is the make up sex bc yall nasties deserve it <3 jk love u guys
satoru falls first. and he falls hard. everyone knows it, it’s never been a secret.
“you want me to wash your hair?” you ask gently, kissing his shoulder as the water falls over his head. he hums, nodding absentmindedly as he stares blankly at the tiles of your shower wall.
“sure,” he mumbles, “don’t tug.”
“i never tug,” you roll your eyes, snorting. he huffs a small chuckle, but it’s not the usual laugh satoru gives you. it’s mechanic, almost—just there to fill the space. “baby?” you ask softly.
“yeah?” he asks, “oh, should i bend a little? sorry, i—”
“what’re you thinking about?” your hands cup his cheeks, gentle and warm from the hot water as it soaks his skin.
he shakes his head, trying to smile as he clears throat. “just how nice it is to be pampered. maybe i’ll let you break my heart every once in a while so i get my back scrubbed and hair washed like this.”
“satoru,” you insist. you know—and he knows it too. “tell me?”
“why’d you do it?” he mumbles, “why’d you listen to him?”
“toru, you know why,” you sigh, “you know i didn’t think there were any other options.”
“you could’ve talked to me,” he furrows his brows, “just because my stupid old man threatens you with my stupid inheritance doesn’t mean we have to break up.”
“i was afraid you’d choose me.” it comes out as a whisper, like a confession you can’t bear to admit.
“i would have chosen you,” he agrees, “why’s that bad? how’s that wrong—”
“you’re not thinking about the bigger picture,” you shake your head, “that company is yours. you’ve spent your whole life—”
“so what? was i supposed to give up the rest of my life for it too?” he asks tiredly—satoru’s defeated. he’s never been defeated, it’s the most magnetizing thing about him.
even before you date him. he asks and asks and asks no matter how many times you say no. because there’s always a chance you’ll say yes, and he’ll never stop as long as there’s a chance.
“i’m sorry,” you sniffle, lips wobbling, “i could have….i should have said something. i didn’t want you to make a choice young and then….and then regret it.”
“you think i’d regret you?” he’s wounded—absolutely wounded at the words.
satoru has always been careful, diligent and so, so meticulous to love you right, to love you how you need to be loved. hadn’t that proven enough? that he was in it for the long run—for forever? he’d been so sure you’d be his future, that the break up feels like waking up from a peaceful dream to a house fire—devastating, with smoke in his nose and lungs that he can’t breathe right, and everything gone within a moment before he can even register it.
he stares at the ashes in despair. nothing prepared him for the hollowness of not being yours—because satoru has never cared to make you his. all he’s ever wanted was to be yours.
you’re quick to remove him from everything, deleting pictures from your socials, untagging him from posts, removing him from your private stories and close friends list. he doesn’t understand how you could change your mind so quickly—and then he realizes you probably don’t. because he knows you—better than anyone ever has, satoru knows you.
so he’s comes to you, drenched from the rain, from standing outside your door even as the water pelts against his skin because he’s determined. he’s going to get an answer out of you, going to make you explain why you pulled him in so close, let him reside in your heart and fall asleep to the comforting rhythm of its beating—and then push him out like he’s nothing. what made you push him out?
and finally, when he does, when you let him be yours again and admit it’s never what you wanted, that it’s because it’s what his father wanted—well, satoru can’t keep his composure. don’t you know? hadn’t he always told you? hadn’t he poured his heart out and let you know every moment he’s always been stuck dangling from his father’s fingers? stuck somewhere between the sky and ground, too high to feel the floor under his feet but never high enough to feel the wind in his face.
you’ve always known, always listened—and fuck, you held him some nights too, let your fingers dip into his hair and soothe his sorrows of always being stuck.
satoru’s always been stuck, always had every choice made for him and every instruction carefully laid out on the table. and then you decided to make his choice for him too, walking away and choosing his future for him like he’s never had a say.
he’s always been stuck, but never with you—but now, he wonders if that’s changed.
“no,” you squeeze his cheeks, “no i don’t think you’d regret me….but satoru losing what you have is a big thing,” you mumble, “people work their whole lives not having a fraction of what you do. that’s a lot to let you lose.”
“i’ve never seen my dad kiss my mom,” he stares at you, hard and unwavering, his eyes stare into yours, “he’s never held her hand or made her laugh. and you know what she told me? that she would sell her share of everything to have what we do. why do you always look at me for what i have first?” he asks angrily, the water pouring over his shoulders as they shake, “why can’t you just look at me first for once?”
“i do look at you,” you insist, “toru, all i ever see is you—”
“then stop caring what he says,” he says louder, his voice echoing through the small bathroom of your small apartment.
everything about your home is small—smaller than satoru’s especially. but he loves it, thinks he’d rather be here than anywhere else.
because it’s yours. and as long as you’re here, the world fits into this tiny apartment, the galaxy too.
“okay,” you say shakily. and then you nod, looking him in the eye, “you’ll handle it?”
he nods, kissing between your brows, “yeah, i’ll handle it. who else is gonna take over that company anyway?”
“but what if he finds someone else? and then he—”
“he won’t. my grandpa will shred him.”
“but he’s old, and he stepped down, so what really can he do if your dad decides—”
“god, baby,” he groans, pushing your body against the wall gently, “i love your voice, but you talk so much. i’m wanna listen to something else.”
his lips find your neck, sucking gently at the skin, hand trailing to your tits before his thumb circles your nipple. it’s slow, deliberate, teasing as it rolls over the bud.
you whimper, clutching onto him as a breathy, “t-toru,” leaves your lips.
“yeah,” he nods, “that’s what i wanna listen to instead.” his lips are in a grin against your neck, kissing and biting until he reaches your collarbone. “anyone dm you after you took me out of your socials?” he asks bitterly.
“j-just one,” you admit through a stutter, “b-but i didn’t even open it! i wasn’t really—oh, toru,” you gasp as his finger finds your clit, spreading your legs as he lets out a soft growl at your words.
“what? just cause my face isn’t on your instagram suddenly you’re not mine?” he asks, thumb rubbing harsh circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves—you close your eyes, moaning as your arms wrap tightly around his neck. “you’re always mine,” he murmurs against your ear, low and careful so you hear him well, “yeah? got that?”
“got it,” you nod furiously.
“got what?”
“‘m al-always—oh, fuck,” you mewl as one finger prods at your entrance, gathering your slick before slowly sliding through your walls.
“c’mon, sweetheart,” he says firmly, “finish your sentences.”
“always yours, toru! always yours—please, please j-just…”
“just what?” he raises a brow.
“more,” you sob—it’s a broken plea as your hips thrust against his finger.
he’s quick to slide in a second, thrusting his digits mercilessly into your soaked cunt, his palm gliding over your clit as the slick sound of his fingers fucking you is almost drowned by the water in the back.
your water bill will be high this month. you decide it’s a sacrifice satoru deserves.
“you think someone could ever learn this body better than me? make you cum like i can? you think anyone will ever love you enough to learn you like i do?”
“n-no,” you pant, his fingers hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly, you feel that dull ache build up quickly. it’s good—everything with satoru is good. his other hand finds your chest to pinch a nipple, twisting and squeezing until your nails leave indents on his shoulders as you moan loudly. “no one—no one but you.”
“exactly,” he growls, “how could you leave me? how could you leave us?”
“‘m sorry,” you sniffle, whimpering when the tips of his fingers slam against that spongey spot of your walls, fluttering around him and squeezing him in. you’re close—so close that you almost don’t know what he’s saying anymore, too focused on the way your impending orgasm is approaching. fast. “i’m sorry, i’ll never—ever leave again.”
“say you love me,” he demands.
it sounds like he’s pleading, though, if you listen closely. there’s a small crack in his voice, a slight shakiness that makes you force your eyes open and stare at him and whisper, “i love you, satoru. i love you.”
and then he rips his fingers out—right before you’re about to cum. you gasp, pleading nonsense as you cling to him and buck your hips and search for something, anything to take you over the edge.
and then you hear a sniffle. is he crying? is that wet droplet on your shoulder a tear or the water? you’re too busy calming down from your orgasm dying before it ever came to focus.
satoru’s hard against your thigh, throbbing and painful to sink into you. he strokes himself a few times, whimpers as his thumb gathers the pre cum from the sensitive tip, smearing it along his length as he shakily lets out a quiet moan.
“f-fuck, i gotta feel you. please, can i? please—”
“yes,” you pull him closer, grinding your heat over his hard-on, “yes please, toru. more, need more.”
he’s sliding along your folds, dragging the tip of his cock along your entrance and smearing a mix of your arousal with his. and then slowly, ever so gently, he’s pushing into your after that, pushing past your walls and bullying into your soaked cunt, curving into you perfectly.
it’s only been a week—you feel like you haven’t felt him in years. but it’s familiar. you remember every part of him, including every vein that drags along your walls and makes your head spin. he remembers every part of you, including where that spot is that he needs to angle his hips to find.
he slams into you, hard and rough and fast—doesn’t even let you adjust your position to hold onto him tighter before he’s thrusting his hips and fucking into you desperately. you can feel him, every inch of his skin against you, every part of him that’s touching you. and you can feel the way his cock nudges past your folds, the friction burning pleasure through ever nerve.
satoru knows how to fuck you, just like he knows how to love you, he knows your body—every dip and ever curve, every place to touch and every part that has you gushing around him. it’s just the way he is, too good at giving you what you want, what you need.
when he moans, it’s breathy and he’s panting as he lets out those soft whimpers that make your head spin. “feel that? feel me?” he asks, grunting as you squeeze around his length.
“yeah,” you breathe, “‘m so full.”
“i need you. please, please,” he murmurs, “can’t lose you, baby. never you,” he chants, the quiver in his voice tearing you apart.
“i’m right here,” you gasp, lacing your fingers with his and squeezing his hand. he squeezes back, just to let you know he’s there too, “right here, baby. you got me.”
and then he cums, just as soon as you whisper that—he spills right into you with a broken cry, his hips rolling, needy and desperate and so, so lost on the pleasure. he’s too busy working himself through his high, trembling over your body to care he’s cum too quick—and you don’t have it in you to tease him. you can feel the hot ropes of cum filling you, painting your walls white, fucking deep into you as the blunt head of his cock slams into you without a second of hesitation.
but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t falter that brutal pace as his hips slam into you, perfectly kissing your sweet spot every time. and before long, you break—your head pushes back against the wall behind you, mouth parted as you wail his name and cum—hard. you’re quivering and spasming around his swollen cock, enough that he whimpers at the way you’re so tight.
it’s good, it’s always good. satoru makes you feel good. he’s the best you’ve ever had—the best you’ll ever find.
and then you hear it again, the sniffle into your neck as he clutches you tightly. you know for sure that wet droplet is a tear this time, and your fingers tangle into his hair as you stroke the wet strands.
“i love you, toru,” you murmur, “my sweet boy. i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry.”
“don’t do that again,” he huffs in between tears, “that was so mean. so mean.”
“i said i won’t,” you chuckle, fighting back your own tears, “how long are you gonna hold this against me?”
“how long do you plan on being mine?”
“well,” you pull him from your neck, cupping his cheeks as you wipe away tears and peck his lips softly, “i think….forever.”
“well, get ready, then,” he glares softly, “i’m gonna hold this against you forever too.”
“okay,” you nod, “that’s fair.”
“and i love you too,” he adds, “but block whoever dm’d you. it better not be that zenin boy.”
“block those girls who’s pictures you liked,” you shoot back, glaring at him with a pout of your own.
“don’t yell at me,” he mumbles, leaning into your touch as your thumb strokes his cheek, “i’ve had a rough week. you have to be nice.”
dabitee anon. are u seeing this. did u see the satoru who cums too fast. did u see it. report back if u saw this. i repeat, dabitee anon report back if you see this
#teepods.writings#thirstee!#rich boy! au#fics.#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo smut#gojo angst#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut
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~ ~ ~
#the way you talk about relationships/friendships is honestly so sad and kinda pathetic#but I think I needed to hear it because something seems to have finally flipped in my brain now to put me on the right track#because honestly the fact that you still want to keep our friendship hidden for your myriad reasons kinda makes me sick#and feeling like I just got used for a while and then tossed aside when it was no longer convenient also makes me feel sick#your worldview is just so bleak and depressing and for what?#I’m trying to squeeze out every little drop of happiness that I can from this shitty existence#and if there ever comes a time my girlfriend and I don’t trust each other or don’t feel like we can talk to each other about anything#well then that’s a fucking problem and we need to fix it immediately#because personally I believe your partner should be your best friend and I want a relationship where we’re basically attached at the hip#like no secrets completely open with each other talk about every single little thing kind of relationship#because otherwise what’s the fucking point? if you can’t even have that from someone you might spend your life with then what’s it all for?#if you wanna give your all to something already fundamentally broken then that’s your choice and I won’t judge you or try to change you#but couldn’t be me I’ll fuckin tell you that#at least this seems to be a turning point for me so that I can use this to make positive changes to myself and my life#which is honestly exactly what I needed because something inside was still bothering me and making me unhappy#and now I’ve identified it and can remove it and move on with my life#like we’ll still be friends and everything#I’m still happy to talk to you here every day because we do have a deep foundation of friendship at this point#but I think even that might be coming to an end soon…#not that I necessarily want that but just that it feels kind of inevitable at this point since we’ve hit a wall here#idk lotta shit to think through and figure out but at least this cemented my feelings towards my girlfriend#she’s so important to me and I want to give her the whole world and all of my time/attention and that’s how it should be#personal
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#he's good at his job! #crozier likes him! crozier chose him! #and any enabling of crozier happens because he lives and works in one of the most strictly hierarchical systems to ever exist #where dissidence can be a hanging offence! #and he's so! fucking! angry! about it #also having to deal with a spirit bear on top of everything #that makes you question the very fabric of the assumptions you once had about the world #also his cabin door is stuck!! #we talk a lot about jopson finally snapping and beginning to bite and kick #i really think he should invite edward to the inevitable breakdown - @maedhrus
listen i don't think edward little was actually a bad first lieutenant. when we see him in the first episode he's calm and confident. he does not say much but he's amiable enough. crozier likes him, and i don't think crozier would like anyone he doesn't think capable in some way. generally he's dependable and knows what he's doing. however unfortunately for edward he has these qualities because he has a major case of eldest daughter syndrome, which means he both wants to please his mum (crozier) and has an overdeveloped sense of responsibility for his younger siblings (crew), so when they get stuck in the ice and crozier starts going (more) alcoholic, he enables his mum bc he doesn't want to disappoint her even if he doesn't agree with her, and he has to pick up the tasks and care for his siblings she's not doing, but he can't let his siblings know about their mum's situation because they'll get worried and restless. and like a true eldest daughter he has to bear the brunt of mummy's anger for being a disappointment but he also doesn't want to seek refuge with the man she divorced (fitzjames) because that feels like a betrayal. also while this is going on there is a giant bear who hunts his siblings for sport so they're dying left and right and also a changeling master manipulator who's making his siblings mad at their mum and who wants to fuck said mum before eating her like some sort of praying mantis. anyway i think i would start being miserable and anxious too.
#the terror#edward little#helen just so you know i am in love with the way you tag these kinds of posts and i need everyone else to see how good your takes are#also curry; just your post in general; like-- YES. FINALLY. SOMEONE SAID IT. SAY IT LOUDER. SHOUT IT FROM THE FUKCING ROOFTOPS#i can and will die on the hill that ned little - the actual lt. little of the show - is as far removed from the sad wet doormat of a man#that fanon likes to portray him as; as humanly possible#the closest correlation between fanon!ned and actual canon!ned is his prolonged misery and level of worry-induced distress#he's more than competent - we see it time and again throughout the first half of the show#but the biggest indication of this is crozier himself handing little his pistol when he goes into self-imposed rehab#HE WOULDN'T DO THAT IF HE DIDN'T THINK EDWARD WAS CAPABLE OF HANDLING THE SITUATION.#crozier's not a man to mince words or spare feelings - if he thought little unequal to the task he would've handed his pistol to fitzjames#instead; but no. he chooses edward precisely bc he knows edward is loyal and steadfast and capable of doing what needs to be done#edward is the one who falters in that scene; not bc he's too overwhelmed to cope but because he knows exactly what is at stake if#anything goes wrong during crozier's convalescence; the lives of a hundred+ men turning on a dime should crozier not survive his withdrawal#and he's not wrong to feel daunted by the task! it's an immense amount of responsibility -#one crozier himself bowed and buckled under the second leadership of the expedition was thrust upon him! it's a terrifying situation;#but edward still steps up and in the wake of francis's seclusion; for once; things actually go somewhat smoothly!#the men are faring better without the black cloud of crozier's alcoholism and negativity hanging over them like a shroud;#he's gotten fitzjames off his back for the most part; other than for carnivale. and even here we see edward's diligence and commitment#to his position as first lieutenant of the expedition bc he's the one questioning using vital supplies for a party! he's the one#who agrees that the men need the distraction; but worries if they can afford to foot the bill later;#when things will be more difficult! that is the kind of mindset francis himself displays at the beginning#of the show when he's questioning sir john's decision to press forward despite every sign imaginable telling them not to!#EDWARD WORRIES FOR THE MEN THE SAME WAY CROZIER DOES#what trips him up; what ends up driving a wedge between him and crozier; what causes little to fuck up the armory situation; is this:#crozier himself. bc francis was a mean drunk. and while in his cups he treated little as no better than a ship's boy; running menial errand#and very literally risking life and limb to indulge the vices of a man who treats him with open contempt (and let's be clear;#that man isn't the captain edward has come to know and respect since they set out from greenhithe - no; that is a stranger wearing#his captain's face; making choices that leave edward feeling frustrated and helpless and enraged)#what crozier's belittling of little's station and rank does during this time is make him deeply insecure of his own purpose and competence;
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imagine cregan and y/n breaking the bed one night just because of his sheer strength and muscle whilst pounding her, ik the conversation with the winterfell wood crafter would be awks as hell afterwards whilst asking for it to be repaired 😇😇
IM HAVING A PROPHETIC VISION, ANON.
At this point, Cregan and his boo thang are just going to have to become familiar with the man. There is no other option, because your choices are either to have this embarrassing conversation a multitude of times with multiple woodcrafters or just one. Because if y'all think this is a one-time thing, you are terribly mistaken.
Cregan is a very passionate person in bed, regardless if he's on top or not. He wants to make sure the two of you are satiated—that does mean the bed will snap like a twig under a boot i dont make the rules i just work here. Personally, I find the actual deliverance of the bedframe to be the most mortifying. Firstly, that big ass broken bed has to be dismantled and removed, if it's not fixable, which takes manpower, and then the new one brought into the Great Keep and put together. Otherwise, the woodcrafter is going to have to make a house call and show up with his tools and planks, walking toward your marital chambers which is embarrassing too :)
ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ. (thoughts ver.)
NSFW stuff under the cut. 18+ only. I'm not responsible for the content you choose to consume. ty.
₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊
That familiar groan under his weight should've been the first warning sign, but Cregan was too distracted to notice. He was lapping at her pretty cunt, tongue delving as deep as he could go and as thorough as he could be without the motions being too unsteady. Alright maybe he did notice initially, but the thought was very quickly shoved to the back of his mind—especially when his pretty wife was trying to rock herself onto his nose, letting out the most quiet of whimpers muffled by their sheets. His ears were focused on her and her only.
With her pearl rubbing against his bridge and his cock feeling so strained in his trousers, no one could really blame him for forgetting about the delicate state of the bed in an instant. Last time they’d gotten particularly frantic in their lovemaking, there had been a low snap somewhere beneath the mattress, a taunt that he was probably too hefty to be moving so much. But winter was coming, a man’s gotta eat…in more ways than one.
By the time he’d recalled they should begin to take it easy on the bed, he was already balls deep behind her, hands gripping the flesh of her ass like a lifeline. He was suffocating in the best way, cock nestled inside, fogging his brain with nothing but instinct. And then she started begging. By then, well, he decided they needed a new bed anyway—six moons wasn’t too bad. Lasted longer than the previous replacement. Three harsh, unrelenting spanks bloom red on her backside as she squeezes around him, sending his blood pumping to the beat of an imaginary war drum. It would be a miracle from the Gods if she wasn’t pregnant by mid-summer. Cregan just couldn’t help himself.
Rutting against her like a man starved, the right side of the bed almost completely collapses, caving in and nearly throwing him off balance. His wife gasped, pleasure momentarily halted as she looked back at him. “Again? Seriously? I told you to write to him last time, did you?” The answer was no, no he did not. “It might have…slipped…my mind.” He murmured, trying to ignore the throbbing in his full balls. They had a silent conversation of glares and a sheepish grin. Then she concedes. “...We might as well finish then. I doubt it can get any worse.”
It could, actually. And it did. He came hard some twenty minutes later, pounding their hips together with a steady desperation. The dip of the broken side was a little annoying, but manageable. Without the support, the right beams of the canopy end up falling right down. No one was harmed, of course. It was only drapes. Cregan found it almost comical but his wife did not. It was going to be a long letter.
₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊
#dingdonganswers#hotd#house of the dragon#cregan stark imagine#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark#cregan x reader#cregan stark x female reader#cregan stark fanfic#cregan stark smut
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The Princes
Ten years later. When marrying a Prince turns a Queen and a Servant into actual Royalties.
Because Vil deserves a real crown and Jamil deserves to be treated better.
NOW I'M GONNA RANT ABOUT MY CHARA DESIGNS CHOICES AND ALL THE DISCOVERIES I MADE WHILE LOOKING FOR REFS! If you only care about art and funny doodles, you can scroll down for a handful of slices of life.
(Don't worry if you can't read my notes, I'm repeating myself better right under this)
Leona
-Lion: As you may know, one of my grievances with Leona is how his hair doesn't look like an actual mane despite being a lion. While I don't want to stray too far from the canon design with the usual drawings, that's the occasion for me to have some fun with a future version. Give that lion a beard and voluminous hair!
-Hair: First, get those bangs out of his face. Despite Leona being very confident, he still has bangs covering his scarred eye. I wanted him to finally own the aspects of him that may be scary to others (his UM, his scar, etc). I actually went with bangs framing his face similar to the ones he had during his Overblot. I wasn't sure whether to give him dreadlocks or curly hair, but I ended up choosing the free curls decorated with some atebas and braids so that Vil could have more fun styling them.
-Eye: Thanks @aria-faye for the idea, I decided to have his eye gradually lose its capacities with time. From a headcanon that, while the eye wasn't directly touched by whatever attack scarred him, the process of healing still had an impact on it and he gradually lost sight in his left eye years after years.
-Body: Not giving him a dad bod (yet, maybe in another ten years), but definitely giving him more voluminous yet casual muscles. Practical muscles with a healthy dose of fat and tissues. Also giving him two full sleeves of tattoos because I decided he should have much more than just his lion tattoo.
-Clothes: Went full Maasai dressing and Kenyan fabrics and beadworks. If you're not familiar with it, please go check it out, it's GORGEOUS!! Crown is beadwork too. He also has one Arabic styled foot jewellery.
Jamil
-Hair: My first order was to remove his double-faced hairstyle and also remove his bangs from his eye. Make him confident enough to show his whole face. Unlike Leona and Vil, he doesn't really want a crown though (he still feels weird about becoming royalty) so instead he uses a braid as crown. Also gave him a little goatee because I like facial hair and Jafar has a beard too.
-Body: He grew up! While he didn't quite catch up with Leona and Vil, he is now closer to their sizes than before, sitting at around 180cm. He kept his breakdancer/martial artist lean muscles but developed a bit of shoulders.
-Clothes: Went full Arabic dressing and fabrics (once more, go check the fabrics, they are pieces of arts). I gave him floral motifs instead of his usual fire/snake motifs (though he does have a snake earring and a fangs necklace) to symbolise his rebirth/blooming. Like Leona, he has one piece of jewellery that is beadwork.
Vil
-Hair: Here it was a bit tricky. Considering Vil's work, he likely changes hairstyles a lot, going from long to short for his roles instead of his wants. So I leaned into the little things he could add to his hair despite their constant changes, mostly jewelleries, beadworks and wool decorations he stole from his husbands. He also cares a bit less about them looking perfect and is allowing himself to be more natural. He doesn't have any facial hair (yet), keeping a youthful appearance for as long as he can. In another ten years though, he might start looking more and more like his father, beard included.
-Clothes: For Leona and Jamil's mental states, the three of them most likely started living in Sunset Savanna so they wouldn't freeze to death. Vil is well traveled so he can handle most temperatures without trouble, and he is used to dressing up in the local get ups. Here I decided to give him both African dress and Arabic fabric, and likewise both beadwork and golden jewellery. I gave him crown and heart motifs so he can keep being himself despite borrowing a lot from his husbands.
There, I'm done rambling. Here's some doodles, followed by some random headcanons.
-Vil does his husbands hair every morning and keeps giving them more and more intricate hairstyles. He developed a whole haircare and beard-care products set for them.
-When Vil is away for a movie, Jamil keeps his hair mostly down save for a few accessories.
-Jamil and Falena get along surprisingly well (to Leona's despair). Vil gets along very well with Falena's wife.
-Jamil acts as a Scalding Sands ambassador and still is the one to care for Kalim when he comes to visit, though this time he's doing it because he wants to and not because he has to.
-Vil got used to his new title immediately but Jamil struggles with it a lot. He still has a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that he is no longer a servant.
-The servants at the palace love Jamil because he always makes their job easier.
-Leona finally decided to put his wits to good use and became Falena's advisor. He still fights a lot with Kifaji about the direction to take with the country, but he managed to make some of his ideas heard to help with the staggering inequalities in the country.
That's all for now!
#so... that's officially my longest piece to date#this one took me nearly 10 hours#and I'm considering doing a colored version because Arabic and Kenyan fabrics are so beautiful I swear#won't happen in a while tho#mello's drawings#n2 squad#jamil viper#leona kingscholar#vil schoenheit#javil#leojami#leovil#twisted wonderland#twst#art#my art#analysis#Future!N2
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to the person who wanted a continuation of soapgaz from this, here you go <3
truthfully, you weren't that mad at johnny.
yes, it hurt, but could you fully blame him? he looked like he was getting his brain fucked out of his head, having no choice but to take the cruel thrusts his lieutenant was laying on him. you swear he slurred out a few apologies before simon stuck his fingers in the poor man's open, drooling mouth, and then you couldn't process anything other than your tears and the overwhelming urge to kick simon's head in.
but just because you weren't too pissed at johnny, that didn't mean the other two members of the team were okay with it. after all, this was his punishment just as much as simon's. what good would it be if he got away with every little thing he did?
"take good care of him, will ya?" price hums, patting kyle's back. the latter nods obediently and mutters a hoarse yessir, already eager to get his hands on the bastard and ruin him.
—
johnny doesn't know how long they've been at it; he only remembers kyle giving him a very brief, sweet kiss before he was pushed down on the bed and his pants were being tugged off, long forgotten on the floor of kyle's room.
"garrick, fuck—" he wheezes, fighting against the urge to roll his hips up. he received a slap to his cock along with a harsh hair pull when he first tried that and had no choice but to take kyle's snarled warning to heart. fuck, he's sweating so much, globs of pre-cum and lube creating a filthy, sticky mess all over his lap and the bed as kyle works his hands over his weeping cock.
"can't keep it in your pants, eh? jus' had to let this cock o'yours think for you," kyle teases, drinking in the way it twitches and spills in his hands. "and you upset the poor bird—sweet thing was all dewy-eyed. that what you were going for, tavish?"
before johnny can deny his words, the fist that holds his cock in an iron grip begins gliding up and down, and he just about chokes at the feeling of kyle's palm sliding over his sensitive tip.
"c— cannae take it, garrick, please—"
"i asked you a question."
"nae, for fucks sake!" johnny cries, letting out a pitiful little whine when the latter squeezes tight, almost too painful for him to handle. he whimpers out a soft sorry and grits his teeth when kyle clicks his tongue, shaking his head.
"behave. should be thankful 's me and not the cap, or even ghost." kyle huffs, loosening his grip just a little. "better hope he's nice to you at training tomorrow after his lil meeting with the captain."
tears clump johnny's eyelashes together as he's denied yet another orgasm, thighs shaking and chest heaving when kyle removes his hands right before he can peak, cock twitching uncontrollably on his belly. "'m sorry, kyle, jus' wanna cum," he groans, loud and unabashed. his hands itch to grab onto the other, but he's not allowed to touch, so he settles for putting on a pathetic display of rolling his hips, poor cock bouncing against him. the movement feels good, but it's not enough, and he swears he'll get himself off if kyle denies him again.
"you solid?" kyle's sweet voice melts away the heavy feelings swirling in johnny's chest, and he nods, forcing his hips to still. "need words, mactavish."
"i'm fine." johnny musters up what he hopes is an acceptable answer, not keen on being edged any longer.
kyle hums, sliding his hand over johnny's thighs, eyes trailing down appreciatively at the mess they've made. "i could let you cum, but..." he sucks in a breath—at the same time, johnny lets out a soft groan, warm hands working his cock again. "i'm a bit offended, soap. was i not good enough last time we shagged? is that why you went after ghost?"
"yer wrong, gaz, it isnae my fault—"
"shut it," kyle snaps, squeezing a fist around the head, fluids coating his hand as johnny thrashes against the bed. "i thought i was a good lay, apparently not. or are you that much of a slag?" kyle croons condescendingly, chuckling lowly at the sounds tearing through the other's throat and the desperate shakes of his head, denying it.
his poor cock's not helping his case, though. it throbs intensely at the dirty words and drips all over kyle's pretty hands, balls aching for release.
"is that it, johnny?" he purrs lowly, sliding up next to johnny on the bed, hand still wrapped tightly around his cock. he leans down to kiss him, swallowing all the sweet little sounds spilling out johnny's mouth. his hand moves a little faster, granting the smallest amount of relief, but it's just not enough.
when they break apart, johnny grits out his denial. he knew that simon had a sweet thing at home, but he was told that she was okay with it. he's not totally at fault; it's all simon.
gaz just tuts when he attempts to explain.
(johnny does feel guilty, though; he didn't stop his lieutenant from ravaging him right in front of you or shy away from your gaze. in fact, he became even more shameless, shoving his hips back and whining out barely coherent apologies. he hopes you'll let him make it up to you properly some day. preferably between your legs.)
"nah, i think you're jus' greedy. is it cause i'm not taken? that why you said yes to ghost?" kyle huffs, cruelly twisting his fist around the head of johnny's cock. the pretty smile on his face sharpens into something mean at the broken sob he gets in return.
johnny doesn't know anything anymore; he can't even decipher left from right. all he can process is kyle lifting his hand off a second too late and the unsatisfying feeling of a ruined orgasm rolling over him in ferocious waves, not nearly enough to satiate him for even a moment.
kyle shushes his heavy sobs, whispers promises that he'll let him cum next time as he slides down the bed, and picks his sensitive cock back up. this time, kyle actually puts his mouth on him, searing hot and so soft, and johnny's seeing white.
#haha who wrote this wth...#guys this has been rotting my brain all day i'm glad i spewed this out#ignore any mistakes ok goodnight 🤍#soapgaz#soap x gaz#soap#johnny soap mactavish#johnny mactavish#gaz#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#rainwrites 𐙚
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|| Make...Love?
Shoto Todoroki x reader
Tsuyu hosted a sleep over at her room and all of Class 3-A girls are invited. Obviously, a sleep over won't be complete without fluffy cushions, games, gossips and a special mention of Yaoyorozu's tea.
You guys have been playing truth or dare for a while, it's just you and Uraraka that hasn't got their turns which makes you uneasy. You honestly don't know what Mina would ask you to do and you've already seen the things the girls did. One thing's for sure, this woman is scary.
"So...... Izuku right?" Mina asked as she turned to Uraraka who's face is now turning bright red.
"I don't like where this is going" Uraraka replied, trying to hide her flushed face in the palm of her hands, which activated her quirk, causing her to float around the room.
Mina giggled a little maniacally at Ochaco's words. In her head, she's thinking of all the things she would have her do, but you know she won't torment the poor girl that much. The pink haired removed "truth" as a choice because according to her, that's no fun at all. The girls agreed, including you, which you kind of regret now.
"So the dare is--" she paused, thinking for a second. "You need to send Midoriya a selfie. You can't tell him it's for a dare tho" this made Uraraka groan as she sat back beside Jirou.
"Oh! You need to ask his opinion about your new necklace as well" Hagakure added and Yaoyorozu agreed. The girls gave each other a high five while Uraraka let out a defeated sigh.
She opened her front camera and positioned the phone above her head, tugging on the chain slightly. She showed us the picture before sending it to Izuku. The picture was rather suggestive in your opinion; the angle made her necklace pop up, but the top part of her bossom is visible in the background, it didn't help that her face is a little red in the photo as well.
Uraraka: *Sent a photo*
Deku-kun, what do you think of new my necklace?
message delivered
"Now we wait" Mina cheerfully said and turned to you "You've been awfully quiet y/n" you can't help but to notice that grin plastered on her face and you know damn well she's up to no good.
"Let's get this over with" you told her with a sigh. You just wanted to quickly finish whatever suffering she's going to put you through.
Jirou pulled out her phone, searched for something before handing it to Mina. While they were busy discussing something, you nervously turned to Momo who's currently adjusting the eyeglasses he took from Iida "Can I back out?" but she just gave you a cheeky smile and a pat on the shoulder. "Goodluck"
Momo was the first one to be dared; her dare was to walk up to Iida, grab his glasses, wear it in front of him and walk away without saying anything. Tsuyu was dared to sit on Shoji's lap for 20 minutes. Hagakure had to confess on her long time crush, Ojiro, and lastly, Jirou was dared to shower Denki with praises for 10 minutes straight. Mina, on the other hand, was dared to kiss Bakugo on the cheeks, and you can already guess what happened next.
A phone was shoved into your line of sight. "You need to do this" Mina said while she pointed at the phone with a video playing. You look at her horrified but she just laughed at your face.
"But with who?" Tsuyu asked.
"Todoroki" Uraraka grinned.
"Yep. Definitely Todoroki." Jirou crossed her arms and nodded while her eyes are closed.
You looked at them confused. Although you do have a crush on Shoto, you have never told anyone about it nor show even a slight interest at him. You can feel your face heat up at the sudden realization that your friends knows about your little crush on him all along.
You sighed in defeat and just accepted the dare. What can possibly go wrong, right?
"We'll be watching" Mina winked at you as you guys marched towards the common area where the boys are hanging out. The girls stopped by the stairs, peeking a little. You made your way towards the couch where Kirishima and Shoto are sitting.
"Yo, y/n" Kiri greeted you and you just replied with a nod.
You sat beside Shoto who was munching on a chocolate chip cookie. He offered you a piece which you happily took and ate beside him.
"Oh this is good! Who made this?" you asked.
"I made it" Shoto turned to you. "I asked Kirishima and Bakugo to teach me" you nodded and quickly look away. You quietly scanned the whole room; Kiri and Shoto are minding their own business eating the cookies Shoto made, the Baku-squad are playing a video game while Izuku and the others are playing a monopoly game, though Izuku isn't really playing, he's just staring at the screen of his phone, looking very red.
You can't help but to chuckle to yourself. You quickly glanced towards the girls and Mina mouthed "now". Unbeknownst to you, Kiri was also looking at the girls direction, when your eyes landed on him, he gave you a confused look and you just replied with an apologetic look. His mouth turned into a circle when realization hits him.
'A game huh' he mouthed and you answered with a nod.
"Shoto" you turned to him.
"Yes?"
"Can we--" here goes nothing "make...love?" You can see Kirishima choke on his cookie in your peripheral vision.
"Make love?" he asked, confused.
You nodded. You can feel your face heat up. You looked away, not wanting to see the look on Shoto's face, you mentally wished that the couch would swallow you up because of the embarassment you feel.
You don't know what Shoto's response will be, but knowing him, you're sure he'll be nice at least. You mentally braced yourself for a rejection you're about to face. Or so you thought.
"Sure, but do we even have the ingredients for that?"
"What?" You and Kirishima said in unison.
Shoto looked at you two, confusion visible on his face.
"This is the first time I've heard about that dish" he stated. Kirishima snorted and finally let out the laugh he's been holding for so long, while you bit your inner cheek to hold back yours. Shoto on the other hand, ignored the red head and called Bakugo instead.
"Bakugo, can you send me the ingredients for love?" he asked as he pulled out his phone and started searching for the dish called love.
"What the fuck, Icy-Hot?!" Bakugo yelled, his eyes landed on Shoto, his face looking like he just heard the stupidest thing in the world. This took the attention of your other classmates as well.
His gaze left his phone, he quickly looked at you then at Bakugo "Y/n said they wanted to make lov-" you hurriedly jumped from your seat to cover Shoto's mouth.
"Ah! Oh my gosh don't mind him! It's a dare!" You half shouted. Your classmates just laughed at you, you can feel your face heat up due to embarrassment.
'Screw you Mina' you thought to yourself.
"Didn't know you're freaky like that y/n" Denki teased you. The others gave you a teasing look as well.
"It's a dare!" You shouted in horror.
"Sure, if you say so" he and the others laughed and get back to playing again. Kirishima, who's laughing with the others, stood up and bid farewell to the both of you. "I'll leave you guys to your own business" he said with a wink.
You just sighed. You're pretty sure all of your classmates will be teasing you for the next few days.
"Y/n" Shoto mumbled under your hand.
You quickly removed your hand from his mouth and apologized. "Sorry" you said awkwardly as you sat back on your spot again.
He just hummed. Silence took over the both of you. You quietly glanced towards the stairs and the girls are nowhere to be seen. They must've gone back to Tsuyu's room. You contemplated whether to go back to her room or not.
You let your eyes wander and it stopped at his phone, a search tab was open and it was an article about "make love". You turned to face Shoto, you opened your mouth to explain about the dare, but before you can say something, he pulled you by the collar of your shirt and gave you a peck on the lips.
You stared at him, wide eyed.
"I can't exactly give you what you want right now but I'm pretty sure a kiss will suffice?" he said.
"Wha-" he kissed you again. This time it was longer, until it was interrupted when a throw pillow hit the back of his head.
"Get a room you fucking dumbasses!!" it was Bakugo.
Great.
You gave him a middle finger and was about to talk back when Shoto pulled you away from the scene and lead you towards the second floor.
"Where are we going?" you asked.
"Getting a room" he opened the door to his room and shoved you inside.
"Looks like I'm gonna have to give you what you want after all" he smiled at you and locked the door.
|| Masterlist
Note:Request box is open, pls pls pls drop someeeeee. I'd also appreciate anon comments/interactions so don't hesitate to reach out!!
#shoto todoroki#shoto x reader#mha shoto#shoto todoroki x reader#shouto todoroki#mha shoto todoroki#todoroki x reader#mha todoroki#shoto x y/n#todoroki x you#mha x reader#mha x y/n#mha
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