#dunno if I should tag the other characters

[kyo38]

doodles feat my two hellsing OCs

[gello-strands]

Enoch is just an eyeball.. his head too big

(REBLOGS>LIKES!)

[ashdash2417]

K, y’all. Can we talk about the abandonment issues Uzi may have?

(The info I’m about to share is just my thoughts on all this. I could be right on some parts, and I could be wrong. Again, I’m just sharing what I think based on stuff we’ve seen from the series. Anyways.)

What inspired me to make this was this very moment right here.

“Are you like, gonna leave me?”

You can tell by her voice that she was scared. Scared that the only friend she’s ever had, the only friend that she’s made her whole life was going to leave her, and it certainly didn’t help that N and V got along well with the other students. Doing some activities together, having fun, playing around and stuff.

I think seeing this, this was the starting point of that fear in this episode. (I’m a little certain that in general, this may go back as early as the first episode, but I’ll talk about that in a bit.)

Here’s that fear she shows after investigating a little bit in the cabin, watching her closest friend get along and interacting with her classmates, despite having been a literal killing machine. And to add salt to the wound, he did so in such a short time. Something that she herself has never really accomplished the whole time she’s been in school.

Some jealousy may also be shown because of this, as she was talking to V, who was also doing well interacting with her classmates.

“Just.. so glad you guys fit right in. Suuuper cool.”

As we all know, Uzi certainly isn’t the most popular girl in school (which btw… relatable imo). In fact, Rebecca had said that she was “super unpopular” when she (well, the top half of her anyways, hehe) reunited with a few drones, whom I’m assuming are her friends.

Uzi doesn’t fit in. She’s like an outcast to her classmates. The “freak” of the bunch. She stands out from the rest of them.

“… You freak us out.”

“But mostly bite me!”

(I’m sorry, I wanted to include that second part here, whether it was relevant or not pfbt. Anyways.)

And it’s not just her classmates that practically outcasted her. Hell, her own father left her to be murdered by the same kind of drone that took away his wife (well, technically, the same kind of drone that struck her with nanite acid, leading to him putting her out of her misery, according to himself from the pilot, but anyways). Now, he may have been too terrified to take action and save his own daughter, possibly reliving the trauma of what happened to Nori. He probably couldn’t fathom having to do the same thing he did to his wife to Uzi. But it still does not justify leaving her, his own daughter, for dead. That is a really shitty dad move there, Khan.

(Or I could be overthinking on that part, and Khan could just be a really shitty father, but anyways)

The way Uzi may have taken it, was that he prioritized his precious doors over her. Having put up more doors to keep himself, and everyone else in the bunker, safe from drones like N. She wasn’t important enough to be saved at the moment she needed him most. Her father- the one who’s supposed to have her back, no matter what happened, the one who’s supposed to protect her whenever things go from bad to worse- had left her to be killed by a murder drone. (Possibly, I’m just spitballin here)

Once this happened, Uzi now has no one she can really trust to stick with her, no one she can rely on for support. She has no friends, barely has family; her father isn’t much like a father to her at all, let’s be honest.

(I would say Thad is the only one she kinda had, but if I remember correctly, they barely knew each other to be considered close friends in the pilot. The only reason Thad knew Uzi (or knew of Uzi) was because she’s Khan’s daughter. That was it.)

(Another thing I wanna add is how neglectful as a father Khan has been, even before the pilot. Hell, the posters that we see can speak volumes of how their relationship is. Not to mention he’s never really spent much (if any) quality time with her, too busy focusing on his obsession with doors.)

(One more thing to add: remember when Uzi told Thad one of the reasons she made her sick as hell railgun was to earn her father’s respect? …That’s just another point I wanna make about the infamous Doorman and how well he’s raised his daughter.) :)

So yeah, Uzi never really had anyone close to her in her life, meaning that she didn’t have anyone to trust, either.

Until this goober shows up.

(Or more like, he was about to kill her until she blew his head off, but that’s not the point.)

Of course, we all know they didn’t become best friends right away. Because he’s a disassembly drone, and she’s a worker drone, and… yeah.

If it wasn’t for Khan backing away from the fight and closing the door on Uzi, Uzi probably would’ve been dead right then and there. N probably would’ve killed her and everyone else without much of a second thought. However!

Considering how he told Uzi about V and J, he didn’t have the best relationship with either of them. (his crush on V seemed one-sided, at least in that flashback where V’s character was introduced? And J just straight up insulting him while stepping on him, and talking about how she’d kill him if she were allowed to.) He didn’t seem to have anyone to consider a friend either, at least mutually. For the longest time, it was just N, V, and J, doing their jobs, working together on killing the worker drones and such.

Then, what Uzi said to him about how the company treats the drones had created some doubts. N never questioned JCJenson and their motives until Uzi came along. And because of that, he almost died via a virus put in by J.

Then, after Uzi saves him from dying, and after they both stop V and J from killing the worker drones, N still stood by her side. N has never given her a reason not to trust him after that. He’s been with her the whole time after Uzi banished herself, and he’s never left her like the other drones have.

I’m thinking, after Uzi had banished herself from the colony, N could have left her on her own, he could’ve refused to let her go with him and V back to the landing pod, but he didn’t. (Not only because Uzi had encouraged him to look at the bigger picture, so to speak, but it also would’ve been out of character for N of all people (or robots in this case lol) to just deny her of joining the squad. He’s such a goddamn softy, let’s be real here.)

(Also, I wanna point out that from N’s perspective, she was the one who encouraged him to become an “angsty, rebellious disassembly drone” in the first place. If it wasn’t for her, he would never even question why they’re killing worker drones to begin with (other than to consume the oil for survival, of course). If it wasn’t for her, he’d still be out murdering. She was the one who respected him more than V or J ever did combined. (Well, in V’s case, this would be after her memories became messed up anyways. She did seem to like him when they were worker drones themselves.))

So yeah, this whole time, N has been the only one Uzi had ever really had throughout the series. N has been the only one that didn’t treat her like a freak, nor had insulted or threatened her in any way (lookin at you, V!). And most importantly, he was the only one that never left her at all. He stood by her side, he had her back, and she had his, and they stuck together, especially through the scary stuff.

So going back to episode 4, that was the first time since they’ve met that they were really separated. And the one time they weren’t with each other, Uzi had taken her solver form for the first time, and had killed her own classmates as a result.

Had N been with her while she was investigating stuff, chances of Uzi taking her solver form happening probably would’ve been really low.

Hell, this whole thing probably happened because she was alone, because nobody was with her, and she didn’t want to be left alone again, and she was scared that she was going to be left alone again after seeing N interact with the other students!

TLDR: Uzi probably has abandonment issues, and was scared the only friend she has was going to leave her like everyone else had in her life.

I wanted to make a long rant about this because it’s been on my mind off and on for a while, especially after hearing Uzi’s voice when she asks N if he’s going to leave her (god that really hurts!), and as sucky as I am with words, I wanted to try anyways. Hope y’all enjoyed. 😁😅 (and now to end this on a lil lighter note, here’s an image of a robot huggy)

[randomminty]

I wanted to draw misakis funny shirt so so so badly but i couldnt draw her hat for the life of me :,,,,(

[flicks-random-stuff]

I’m the devilish AU-er I make the devilish aus . Dunno if I’ll talk about this one much here but it involves some plot points from my friend pory’s Bad Omens au ☝️

[d0d0-b0i]

oh requests are open! how about Fang the Sniper? he's my favorite, next to Silver :)

bastard man (affectionate)

[lieutenantselnia]

I'm thinking about how Firmus always looks so stressed and it just makes me(/Selina) want to cuddle with him to help him relax. Like I just want to flop down on him and basically act as a weighted blanket for him, no distractions, just feeling each other's breathing and warmth and maybe fondling his hair a little. I want him to be able to let go of the tension in his body and just hold him, letting him know that there's someone who cares a lot about him and his wellbeing <3

[green-eyes-and-orange-ties]

🍋 Lemon Boys 🍋

Sparked from the Season 2 poster of Sebastian wearing Augur uniform and the idea that Sebastian might move in with Styx. I like the idea of him staying with Styx and feeling safe because of Styx's magic.

Key, latch, door. *Thud* Bag.floor.

As Seb dropped his bag he could feel the floor rushing to meet him, but two hands grabbed him first.

"Hey hey" then more gently, edged in concern "Bas?"

The Irish lilt brought his mind back from blankness, as he realised he was only half standing, propped up by Styx. Eyes closed, arms lead-heavy at his side. Seb didn't even attempt to move, what's the point he'd probably just end up on the hallway floor.

"mmfine"

Seb went to move away but as soon as his head lost contact Styx's shoulder, he lost contact with reality. A single hand guided him back, the other hadn't let go of his jacket. 'I should take that off' Sebastian thought vaguely.

"Like hell you are! you're dead on your feet! Whatd they make you do today?"

No answer, but Styx could feel Sebastian grimace against his shoulder and his own jaw tighten in response.

"Yea yea NDA blah blah. Come on let's get this off ya"

Styx started helping Sebastian roll the Augur jacket off his shoulders. The jacket bit was easy, swapping out Seb's shirt? That was harder, it relied on Seb being able to stand unaided and right now that seemed alot to ask.

"mmjust" Seb paused waiting for his breath to catch up "mmjust tired"

"Yeah, and I'm just old. Whydya have to and sign the flamin contract anyway ya eejit?"

No response. Not that Styx had really expected one. Just as he hadn't been expecting the new bruises making a patchwork of new and old across Seb's torso. It's hard to believe there was even space for new ones.

"Easy. Easy does it." Styx could have cursed the person responsible... would have if he knew who... or even where. Instead he settled for hissing through his teeth.

"Mmmfinedontworry" it came out more slurred than Seb had intended.

Does it count as slurring words if you sigh them all together? The thought floated through Seb's mind, as he sounded about as coherent as the rest of his world. Styx pulled an oversized shirt on to Seb ignoring his tired attempts at reassurance.

"You gonna sleep tonight?" Styx half asked, half instructed.

"You ever feel you've outlived your usefulness? Like maybe on the ship I ..."

"Fuck off with that right now."

"I just mean, sometimes feel like yea I survived ... but was I meant to? I feel like now I'm in a timeline that doesn't want me ... you know?"

"What I know is that you're here and that there's no use tryna guess what the 'universe' - or whatever - thinks of that."

Silence.

"Come on you'll feel better after you've slept." Styx threw a pillow at Seb.

Sleep. The word itself seemed to have a soporific effect on Seb and he felt his eyes welling up at the thought of being able to go to sleep.

"Look ya don't have to sleep in the bedroom, I was gonna watch something - if I can get the feckin screen to work - you can join if ya want."

Seb crumbled into corner of the sofa mumbling something about 'wards' and 'staying up' as sleep took over.

"Yeah, yeah, don't ya worry about that. I'll stay up and keep em goin" though Styx wasn't entirely sure whether Sebastian heard. Throwing a blanket over Seb, Styx glanced at the TV screen

"Yeah. No. Fuck that piece of shite."

He pulled a book from the stack on the coffee table and settled in to 'keep watch'. What did missing one night's sleep matter, he had forever to catch up anyway.

[monty-glasses-roxy]

(sorry in advance, this might get long) Not to play devil’s advocate or anything, but Roxy DOES display a LOT of narcissism symptoms, just not where the ‘say anything you don’t like is narcissism or gaslighting’ kiddie fans like to say. The Gregory stuff is pretty much irrelevant for a lot of already mentioned reasons, but people discount the possibility of NPD going “no no no poor sweet little bean just has bad self esteem!” and

OKAY.

So I have TWO responses to this! Bare with me here. The second one goes more into the traits you're talking about, so stick with me.

For the first one, I'm going to focus on your first ask, where you say that Roxy does show traits of covert narcissism. If this is in response to the post I reblogged about how some fans continue to call her a narcissistic bully (obviously using the term narcissistic wrong as is typical), then you have missed the point entirely. I apologise if I come across as aggressive here, my intention is to be as clear as physically possible.

What we were not complaining about her being labelled as a horrible person. We are not complaining about her potentially being a narcissist in the way you've described. We are not complaining about people criticising her. We are not complaining about people just not liking her.

The whole point of the post, was that we were annoyed by the hypocrisy. The point was about the double standards in a large chunk of fandom spaces.

You're right! Narcissism is used as a catch-all for someone people (not just 'kiddie fans') don't like and want to hate on, when that's not what narcissism is! But that's not the point we were making. Let me give you some examples of what we meant.

Whether you believe it or not, it's widely theorised that Monty killed Bonnie. It's a common interpretation that he killed Bonnie to take his place in the band, and to get the spotlight all to himself, with his sights now being set on Freddy himself. These fans often say that he did this regardless of the virus effecting everyone, and got more aggressive under its influence.

Now, these same fans, see Roxy. She tells Gregory that he has no friends. She calls him nothing, a loser and that she's better than him. She talks to herself in the mirror to boost her ego, and compliments herself fairly regularly throughout Security Breach while she is under the influence of the virus that changes their behaviour.

Many of these fans, adore Monty. They love him despite what he's done. They find him interesting, with more character depth than meets the eye, and ship him with the rest of the male cast liberally. He's UwU'd and a himbo and they love him as their poor little meow meow.

However, this is not the case with Roxy.

To many of these fans, she is awful. She's irredeemable and deserves everything she got. She's the worst character in the game. She only likes Cassie because Cassie is a big fan of hers and idolises her. She's nothing but an arrogant, self-centred, bitch, with the word narcissistic used incorrectly to encapsulate all of this.

Do you see the difference?

This was the point of the post. And please don't come at me saying not all Monty fans are like that, I know that already. To say that to me would also be missing the point.

The point is that, if you swapped the two over, and Monty did exactly what Roxy did in the game, while Roxy did exactly what Monty did... The results wouldn't change. Monty would still be their complicated, deep and meaningful character to thirst over and adore, and Roxy would still be the worst person you've ever met because how dare she kill Bonnie? That's irredeemably awful!

This is what we were complaining about. It doesn't matter what words are used, it's the fact that they're used by some fans to villainise her, and not anyone else. We were complaining about how Roxy can't be mean without being hated, virus or no virus, there is no excuse for being mean, unless you're a hot guy everyone likes and it adds to your hot guy character. It's not just Monty either, he was just the best example I could think of off hand. If Moon, Freddy, Sunny, DJ, Bonnie or even Foxy said the exact same things as Roxy, and acted in the exact same way, they would also be loved and adored for it, while Roxy is hated.

I'm going to say this one more time for those still missing the point, I am not saying everyone does this. I know not everyone does this. What I'm saying applies only to those that do this. This is just a common way to interpret these characters in a handful of corners of this fandom, and it's part of a wider problem you see in a lot of other fandoms as well. We are annoyed by the hypocrisy of how some characters are betrayed compared to others. The wording used is a separate issue, to the intention behind them.

I am not aiming to call anyone out with this. I am not aiming to start drama either. That is not the intention of any of this. We are talking about what we've observed and how we feel about it. This is not intended as an attack on anyone, or saying you shouldn't like your favourites or any other bad faith read you can make of this. We were complaing about what we've seen and how we feel about it. That is all.

And this is the last time I am clarifying that discussion. I apologise if this all comes across as rude or aggressive, I'm just trying to make myself as clear as physically possible. This being the second time I've clarified it, feels enough to me. I'm open to discuss some of this, but honestly, this isn't what I want to continue spending my night on, so if anyone wants to talk about this stuff, the responses may be slow. Got other, more fun stuff to talk about, ya know?

NOW the SECOND response is more relevant to the rest of what you said.

You're absolutely right! You could attribute her traits to the covert narcissism that you've described! I've never said she can't be and I love the fact that you've drawn these connections with some level of understanding of it! I've only seen one other person describe Roxy as a narcissist that didn't use it as a way of saying she's awful and I love that! You might be the same person as that other anon, I can't really tell, but just know that I appreciate you telling me about your interpretation with actual information on narcissism!! I may not see her as such (for reasons to follow), but it's really interesting when people portray her differently to me, and can actually back up assigning her a label like that!!

I'll say my interpretation of her is different to what you've described, and I can elaborate on how I read and portray her any time you like but this post is already long so I'll save it for another time. We're different people, so of course we have different interpretations, that's what makes talking about a character interesting! This isn't the only reason I wouldn't describe Roxy as NPD though.

I will not say that she has NPD, and I will not argue the idea of her having it with someone that can tell me about it like you have. This is because I don't know enough about NPD to draw a conclusion like that. I don't have anywhere near enough information on actual narcissism to draw any kind of connections to anything. My understanding pretty much starts and ends with 'low empathy', and how people are constantly misusing the term by applying it to everyone they don't like, or people that are just kinda mean. As such, I'm just not in a position to use the term to describe a character at all.

I can research it of course, but until then, rest assured, I will not be describing anyone as such, fictional or otherwise. I have no plans to research it for the time being in case you were wondering on that one, so this isn't likely to change any time soon. I'm just not educated enough on the topic to confidently write Roxy as a narcissist. If people read my version of her as such, then that's great! But I will not go into a discussion on Roxy's character and refer to her as anything specific unless I know what I'm talking about. Based on what you've said, my version of her woudn't line up with NPD that much anyway, so it's likely not going to be a conversation I'll need to be having very often after this.

By all means, if you know what you're talking about or are willing to research and learn about it? Don't let me or anyone else stop you from reading Roxy as a covert narcissist! If that's something you wish to explore in her character then you do it buddy!! I'd love to hear about it!

I just can't really have a strong opinion on something I'm not educated on. I take no issue in people calling her a narcissist in the context you have described. I don't get involved in the conversations surrounding the misuse of the word as a general descriptor of every negative trait ever, as I don't have the knowledge to properly engage in that kind of discussion. So if you did talk about this more with me, I'm afraid I couldn't really offer you much but my own interpretation in return. Would still love to hear about it though if this is something you're familiar with and are interested in though, that's the takeaway here. I may not have all the information, but I can still appreciate someone trying to properly portray it, right?

And those are my two responses!

Tl;dr:

Response 1: If this was your takeaway from the reblogged post about people hating Roxy, you've missed the point. We're annoyed by the double standards between how she's seen as awful, whereas others are praised for doing arguably much worse things than her.

Response 2: YEAH!!! YOU HEADCANON HER AS A COVERT NARCISSIST IF YOU WANT TO AND KNOW ENOUGH ABOUT IT TO DO SO COMFORTABLY!!! YOU DO YOU!!! ENJOY YOURSELF AND DON'T LET ANYONE ELSE STOP YOU!!! I can't really have a big long discussion about Roxy displaying those traits though, because I don't have the knowledge to do so. Can still enjoy people talking about it though.

[loregoddess]

How about 8, 9, and 22 for the fe3h ask game?

8 was answered here, although I will also add that the Church of Seiros should have been developed more, it has like, hardly enough writing to qualify as a vanilla fantasy religion, I want actual meat not *vaguely gestures* whatever this is supposed to be. Hell, even Triangle Strategy, with its absolute minimal worldbuilding for the Hyzantian religion, created a more concrete and interesting fantasy religion than the CoS.

9. What is your favorite scene in the game (can be in the main story or a support convo)? No joke, I almost started crying when I watched Dedue and Ashe's A support. Haven't stopped thinking about it since.

22. What character do you headcanon as ace or aro? As usual, there's my "I am ace, I read every character as a little bit ace unless I get a specific idea otherwise" disclaimer, and please keep in mind that I'm using ace here as an umbrella for all the various asexual identities (ace ace, grey ace, demi, etc.--getting into their romantic orientations is an entire other project for me, but most here fall under the aro umbrella as well), but anyhow the most ace characters to me are:

Byleth, Hubert, Ferdinand, Linhardt, Caspar, Ashe, Mercedes, Ingrid, Raphael, Ignatz, Marianne, Hanneman, and Jeritza.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

Hey so you've posted a bit about replaying DA and I wanted to know if you have a canon run through

I do! I'm currently replaying through my canon run right now [with a few deviations here and there] because every time I finish a run, some time passes before I'm like, ".........I miss them." It makes doing an alternate run harder, too.

For DAO, I play as a rogue lady Tabris named Rosalie, or Rose. Dual-wielding ranger and dualist. Her most used party dynamic is Alistair/Morrigan/Zevran. She named the mabari Griffon after the tales of Grey Wardens and their griffons. Rose romanced Alistair, kept him a warden and made Anora queen. She considers Morrigan one of her closest friends until Morrigan reveals her true intentions for coming with them. I've written about that whole thing before. Honestly, as far as companions go, Rose becomes close friends with most of them... except Wynne, they tend to butt heads in a lot of ways.

Rose didn't want to become a warden and thinks most of their rules and secrets are bullshit. Duncan's excuse for not coming to help her and the other elven women Vaughan took is a driving force for her to defy that "we can't get involved" rule as much as she can during and post-blight. She sided with the mages in Kinloch and with their help saved Connor, made Bhelen king of Orzammar, and settled things between the Dalish and the werewolves peacefully by convincing Zathrian to end the curse. She executed Loghain at the Landsmeet since, y'know... he sold city elves, nearly including her father, to Tevinter slavers to fund his war so... in her eyes, he doesn't get to live after that.

This playthrough I did make a save to reject Morrigan's dark ritual to see what happens when the warden makes the ultimate sacrifice and it's the most unsatisfying ending. It's such a, "No no noooo we didn't deserve this! After everything we went through! Just for it to end like that??" hopeless feeling... which was then fixed when I went back and made my canon choice of begrudgingly accepting the deal [even though it mostly goes against Rose's character but I'm weak and selfish and want her and Alistair to live].

In DA2, I play as a male mage Hawke named Edgar, or Ed. Force mage and blood mage. His most used party dynamic is Carver/Merrill/Anders until Carver goes to the Grey Wardens, then it's Isabela/Merrill/Anders. He's mostly purple in personality, but occasionally dips into blue, and I can count the number of times he's gone red on one hand. He named his mabari Fleabag after Malcolm bought the pup from a traveling merchant who failed to mention he was flea ridden. Several baths later, the mabari was finally flea free but Ed decided he should never live it down and named him Fleabag.

Ed maxes out the friendships with everyone [yes, including Carver, Ed tries so damn hard with him] except Aveline, he maxes out her rivalry. They all side with him and the mages in the end. He romanced Anders. I once did a run where I romanced Fenris with Ed and even though I liked it, the whole playthrough felt wrong because romancing Anders is, like... a fundamental part of Ed's story now... Even though they break up in the end.

I've done all three options across different playthroughs when it comes to Anders; I've spared him, I've killed him, and I've told him to leave. My canon choice is to tell him to leave, and then let him join my party later after we've sided with the mages. It's hard to explain without writing a full essay, but Ed and Anders are pretty much life partners at this point. Even if it's no longer romantic because a huge amount of trust was broken, even if they never get back together in that regard, even if Anders will now be on the run for the rest of his life, whether or not Ed agrees with him [he does and he doesn't, it's complicated] like... Ed loves him and he'll always love him, y'know? He won't abandon him even when everyone tells him he should.....but then DAI happened uhhh

Finally for DAI, I play a lady mage Lavellan named Ashalle, or Ashlaen, or just Ash. She's a knight-enchanter who mostly does storm magic. I'd say DAI is the game where I have a pretty even party use that I rotate between; Cassandra/Varric/Vivienne, Solas/Sera/Blackwall, The Iron Bull/Dorian/Cole. She sides with the mages in Redcliffe and left Hawke in the fade [sorry Ed, and sorry Anders... and sorry Carver... and Varric]. When it came to picking a ruler for Orlais, she figured all options sucked but went with Celene and Briala. Ash drank from the well, and then disbanded the inquisition in Trespasser.

I dislike how DAI just kinda plops your inquisitor into existence with only a small paragraph explaining why they were at the conclave; I wish it had a DAO approach so that's what I did for my inquisitor. Before I start the DAI playthrough, I boot up DAO. Before she was Ashalle Lavellan, she was a circle mage named Ashlaen Surana who escaped with Jowan after he lied to her about being a blood mage. In the ten years pre-DAI, she lost Jowan. In her grief, joined the Dalish, changed her name, and eventually ended up at the conclave. It just adds a lot more meat and spice to the choices and interactions with companions and advisors since she keeps that part of her backstory a secret. After all, she helped a blood mage and then was accused of being one herself before fleeing; she doesn't want the inquisition to know that. All of her crafted staves are named after Jowan while her crafted robes are usually named after her conflicting identities and pieces of her past, too..... Oh, speaking of past, she romanced Cullen. Because of course.

With the context of all this, it becomes them reuniting after they may or may not have had a thing going on in the circle, but then she escaped and he believed she was actually a blood mage for ten years. Cullen sees her like "Ah. Yes. You. Whom I haven't met. Hope they're right about you. We've lost a lot of people to get you here. Glad you survived." when internally he's screaming "I know who you are, those tattoos fool me not! Why are you here?? To torment ME specifically??" Then there's Ash who takes a little longer to recognize him, and when she does, it solidifies that she needs to run after this because he knows who she is and why she fled, that's not good, she's not going back to the circle after all this is done.

But y'know... they work it out. Eventually.

That's my canon run through of all three games. I keep trying to talk myself into doing a full alternate canon run, but the only game I've successfully done a different route in is DAI with my male rogue Tristan Trevelyan whose backstory was that he's a pro-mage ex-templar. That was fun to see how different things play out, but I haven't managed it for the other two.

I'd like to play DAO as a more cutthroat warden who, unlike Rose, won't go out of their way to do kind things; they'll do what they deem necessary. I'd like to do a lady warrior Hawke run with Bethany as the surviving sibling, and I've tried before but every time I hit a point where I'm like ".....I miss Carver so much" and abandon the run. Like there's always something that makes me abandon the run. I almost abandoned Tristan's run, too, but somehow I pushed through and got invested. I dunno. One day I'll put on my big girl pants and just do it.

[mihari]

I went through the tag for an old flame and liked a ton of posts, then realized a bunch of them were all from the same artist.

[vulturvolanss]

you pour so much richness into a character’s writing and lore and then dedicate an entire idle to ship bait

[steddieas-shegoes]

never cared much for stuff

for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘stuff’

rated t | 483 words | cw: temporary character death, mourning | tags: love realizations, Eddie Munson lives, getting together, first kiss

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

He’s never really been the type to find a connection with stuff. He has things that have meaning, just as anyone does, but nothing that matters so much that he’d die if it went missing or got destroyed.

Until Eddie’s necklace.

He’d grabbed it before they left the Upside Down, just after Dustin screamed about bringing his body back with them until he lost his voice.

If this was all he had, if this is the only piece of Eddie he was bringing back, he’d treasure it.

And then he remembered he had Eddie’s vest on. Another thing. More stuff.

Dustin had taken a ring. When, Steve didn’t know.

Stuff started to mean more, or at least this stuff did.

He cleaned the necklace, the vest, made sure nothing was broken, no patches missing. He kept the vest in his closet, scared to even let others know he had it. He wore the necklace, but kept it hidden under his shirt if he was around others.

He cried every single night. Even the nights Robin was with him. Even when Dustin insisted on spending the night for almost a week straight. Even when he spent two nights in a row with Max in the hospital because no one else could.

He didn’t know why, didn’t quite understand why he felt a pull like this for someone he barely knew. He felt ashamed that he wasn’t able to let this go.

Steve was stronger than this. He had to be.

—

On the one year anniversary of Eddie’s death, Steve is certain of two things.

One: He is and will probably always be in love with Eddie Munson.

Two: Eddie Munson is alive and standing in his bedroom.

The first thing is a bit easier to swallow with the second thing being true.

Steve reaches for the necklace hanging against his bare chest, lets his fingers run over the carved initials that were almost worn down to nothing from his fidgeting.

“That looks good on you,” Eddie’s hoarse voice said, so low Steve was almost convinced he imagined it. “You got any more of my stuff or do I get to keep staring at you mostly naked?”

This is what Steve’s been picturing for so long. He’s pretty sure he’s not dreaming, but he pinches his arm anyway.

“How?”

“Wish I had a single clue, sweetheart.”

He looked normal. No blood. No visible injuries.

He looked like he walked out of there with them a year ago and washed the grime and trauma down the shower drain.

“I don’t understand.”

“Me either. But maybe we don’t have to understand.”

“I dunno. I think we should probably try,” Steve felt like he’d maybe finally lost it.

“Someone else can. I’d just like to kiss you.”

Steve could let someone else figure it out. He was gonna kiss the love of his life until they did.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Quiet One 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: have a good day.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

“So, what do you think?” Lloyd asks as he turns to you, outstretching his arms as he gestures to the endless hangers. “All yours. You got your pick.” 

You stand just inside the door of the walk-in closet. The space would take up at least half your apartment alone. You cross your arms as you glance along the rows of coloured fabric hung from the walls, organized in a perfect ombre effect of shades. On the far wall, there are shelves full of shoes and accessories, along with a vanity in the centre. 

“I know you’re a simple gal,” he grins, “but you don’t have to be anymore. Whatever you want, ain’t no mountain high enough and all that.” 

You nod and blow out between your lips. It all still feel surreal like a nightmare. You swallow and tamp down your discomfort. You didn’t hate the life you had. Your small apartment, manageable and tame. You prefer predictability, even if some might say it’s boring. 

“Erm, I dunno,” you slowly trail over to the other side of the closet. 

“Well, you could pick some shoes first. That might inspire you,” he suggests as he approaches you, “you don’t need to be too fancy, you know, you always look nice.” 

“Mm,” you nod,” thanks that’s...” 

You let the sentence hang. This is really freaking you out. Your chest feels tight and your head is buzzing. You shudder out a breath. 

“What... what am I choosing for?” You croak. 

“I told you, jellybean,” he puts his arm around you and pulls you against his side, “it’s a surprise.”  

He reaches to grab a hanger and holds it out at arm’s length. A blush-coloured satin dress with a bit of frill at the bottom of the skirt. It’s nothing you would choose yourself. 

“Sure, that’s nice,” you say, just to appease him. What else can you do? 

“Hm,” he hums, “you don’t like it?” 

“I didn’t say...” 

“You don’t sound very excited,” he pouts as he turns to you, his hand lingering on your hip, “none of it? I got it all for you.” 

“I’ll wear it,” you sniff, “I’m sorry, I’m just... I’m... adjusting.” 

You don’t know how else to explain it.  

He pushes his lower lip out and narrows his eyes, “sure, sure, makes sense.” He drags his hand off your hip and steps back, keeping the dress up as he angles it before you, as if he’s imagining you in it. “This is gonna look so hot, baby.” 

You do your best to stay placid. It’s harder as you heart pounds furiously. You can’t even begin to guess what he has planned but with everything he’s done and said, you know exactly what his intent is.  

“You should get washed up, huh? Then get dolled up. Like I said, won’t need much of that,” he winks, “you could walk in ass-naked and I’m sure you’d stun.” 

You can’t help how your mouth slants at his remark. 

“Alright, jellybean, let’s get you in the tub,” he lays the dress over the velvet bench and spins back, startling you as he grabs both hips and jerks you towards him with a growl, “can I watch? I promise, I’ll try not to touch. Yet.” 

You clasp onto his wrists with a yelp. He curls his lips eagerly and you repress your horror. You don’t want to antagonise. You don’t want him to get any worse than he is. 

“Um, did you want... to?” You murmur. 

“Fucking of course,” he urges you against him, “the things I want to do...” he smirks, “I’m quaking in my boots.” 

He bows to smother you with a kiss. His mustache pokes at your uper lip and up your nose as he hums and slides his tongue across your lips. You squeeze your mouth tightly shut but he pokes through, nearly choking you as he invades. You press your hands to his chest as he locks you into his embrace. 

Finally, he part and you gasp for breath. He snickers as you puff against him. Your skin is crawling as you wriggle in his hold. 

“Yum,” he purrs. 

He lets his arms fall away and quickly snags your hand. You let him drag you around to the door, your feet hollow as they move without a thought. Resistance is plainly not a choice. 

He takes you back into the adjoining bedroom, the one you awoke in, and through another door way against the perpendicular wall. He steps to the side as he tugs you forward and releases you. Your take in the sleek black walls and black tub, the silver shower head in a monochrome booth, and the ebon marble veined with sparkling white. 

“I get it, it’s going to take a lot of getting used to,” he boasts, “this is our home, sweet cheeks. Remember that. You treat it like your very own... it is. Just like me, all yours.” 

You pad slowly inside, if only to keep a distance from your captor. You won’t forget what he is. He can give you all the luxurious things but you remember the days of starvation, of terror. He can’t see himself for what he is but you do. 

“Face masks, body scrub, bath bomb, shower gel, bonnet, robe,” he points at the fluffy purple robe still around you, “slippers,” he flicks his finger towards the mat beside the door, “lotions, creams, everything you can dream of. Oh damn, I can call a nail tech if you want a fresh mani--” 

“Uh, no thanks,” ball up your fists, hiding your short-trimmed nails, “that’s not... that’s okay.” 

“Only the best for you, kitty cat,” he says. 

He strides forward and you flinch out of his way. He goes to the tub and cranks it on, water splashing out from the high faucet. He flips the silver lever to put the stopper in place and backs up. 

“Voila, all for you,” he declares, “I’ll just...” he looks around and backs up to sit on the fluffy cushioned stools near the wall, “sit and watch. If you need help getting your back, I got you.” 

He wiggles his fingers and gives a lecherous grin. You withhold a shudder and face the basin, the water battering the bottom. You step forward and peer down into the shallows. You clutch the front of the robe and peek over in his direction but not at him. 

He waits, silently. You sway, squeezing the fluffy fabric as you peer back at the water. You don’t know if you can do it. Not with him right there. 

“Whatsa matter, baby, you need help?” He shifts and you jolt.  

“N-no, I just...” you look down at yourself and frown. 

“Ah, you’re shy. I totally get it,” he coos, “you don’t gotta be though. Your beautiful, so you should be proud. Show it off, honey.” He clucks and shakes his head, “you know that’s the thing these days, all you girls, you’re so insecure, but you trust me, sweet lips, you got nothing to be insecure about.” 

Your stomach flips. You feel hazy. You try to shrug it off and drop your hands to the belt of the rob. You untie it. You’re really going to do this. Why? 

Because you’re afraid? Weak? Yep. 

You shed the rob and look around. You hang it on the hook behind the door and return to the tub. It’s getting deeper and deeper. You touch the bottom of your shirt and scrunch it up in your fists. Just do it quickly and get in. He can only see so much from over there. 

You pull your shirt off, nothing underneath. You push your pants down quickly, your underwear rolling down inside. The skin feels cooler then and tingles across your naked skin as you latch onto the tub and swing yourself over the edge. You barely get a foot under you before you submerge your body in the water. 

You sit up, legs bent, stiff on the porcelain as the water continues to rise. It’s not quite at your chest yet. If you let it fill all the way, it might touch your chin. As you watch the depth climb, you don’t notice him until he closes. You slide to the back of the tub as Lloyd cranks off the faucet. 

You notice how his eyes stray to you. Your legs stay bent in front of you, blocking most of everything. You shrink down, hunching your shoulders as he searches through the ripples. He tilts his head and cracks his neck as he exhales and backs away. 

“Take your time, baby,” he purrs as he rubs his chest. 

He sits again and you lower your head. You’ve never been this bare in front of anyone, rarely even yourself. You’re just not comfortable without some short of shield around you. Your eyes tinge with the threat of tears. You feel like you’ve been hit across the face. This is real. Really real. 

Your eyes flick up and you reach for the purple scrubby on the little black shelf. You just have to get through it. That’s what you’ve always done. 

👄

You stare into the open case. You’re not entirely unfamiliar with the concept of make-up. When you were a teen, you had a phase, and you’ve been to enough job interviews to wield a mascara wand. Still, the amount seems excess. 

There’s almost every sort of product in every shade. Some sort of tap you don’t know what to do with, highlighter, and finishing spray. It’s too much. Your look is either a bare face or nothing at all. More often the former. 

You fidget with a tube of lipstick, clicking the lid up and down. This is all so strange. What are you getting ready for? And why? This isn’t your home, this isn’t your life, and yet it’s all so perfectly planned. 

“Honey bunnnnnn,” Lloyd’s timbre has you dropping the stick. He strides in, flustered, holding up two ties. He’s half dressed. A pair of red velvet pants and amber satin button up. It’s not a look you would go for. “What do ya think? Which tie? Paisley or the stripes?” 

You shrug and shake your head. 

He clicks his tongue, “genius, baby, genius. No tie. You’re right. Just the jacket.” 

Your mouth falls open and you nod, “sure, yeah.” 

You look back at the vanity and huff. Your face is untouched. You sit in your robe in the walk-in closet, mulling over your misery. Self-pity is as inescapable as these walls. 

“What’s up, cheeks?” He asks, “you need some help? I’m thinking you could give a bit more colour to lips but keep the rest very subtle.” 

He crosses the floor and hovers behind you. You stir around in the case and take out two bottles of foundation. You’ve never really used that either but the shades are pretty close. He lays the ties down on the vanity, brushing your back as he does, and pulls back to grip your shoulders. 

“I tried to guess as best I could. Don’t know much about all that but the lady in the store was a blessing,” he massages your shoulders as he talks. You’re tense as steel. “But you know, you got perfect skin so...” 

“Mm,” you put the foundation back and peruse the little shelf alongside the mirror. You reach for the moisturizer. Your skin feels raw.  

“I like it, au natural. Touch of cream, little lash...” 

“I’ll figure it out,” you grumble. He’s kind of annoying. No, he’s really annoying. All of this is annoying. 

“Right, yep, I will get out of your way,” he bends and kisses the crown of your head, “lots of time.” 

He strolls out and you scowl at the mirror. Something about him is getting to you. You’re not an angry person. You’re a nice person. You don’t go out of your way to be around others but when you are, you strive to be pleasant. Or at least, out of the way. 

You spread the cream over your face, watching your reflection as if it’s someone else. Where did he come from? Why? This is some cruel trick because you only ever wanted to mind your business. 

You cap the bottle and put the moisturizer back. You fish out a mascara stick and brush it on your lashes then find a neutral lip colour to put on. Nothing special, just like you. Hopefully he sees that soon enough. 

You pack away the case and push it to the back of the vanity. You get up and go to the velvet bench where the dress lays. He’s plucked out a few things to go with it. A gold necklace with small diamonds speckled along it and a pair of beige heels.  

You peek at the door before you untie the robe. You shiver as your fingers brush your stomach. You close your eyes as you recall how he wrapped you up in a towel after your bath. His touches were more than deliberate but his intrusive gaze made you squirm more. 

You pull on the lingerie tucked under the dress. A thong. You’ve never worn one of those, and a satin and lace bra with no padding. Even as you pull the dress up your figure, you feel like you’re on display. You reach back, bending your arm until your elbow throbs as you push the zipper up. 

“Need some help?” Lloyd’s voice makes you wince. 

You sniff, “sure.” 

You hold up the bodice as he approaches. You refuse to look back at him as he nears. He tickles along your spine with a single finger before he tugs on the zipper. He pulls it up little by little, until the fabric is snug around you. His fingertips drift down your back and he spreads his hands across your ass. You gasp. 

Before you can step away, his hands glide around and he grabs you by the hips. He pulls you against him and rocks with you. He inhales your scent from above and sighs. 

“Jellybean...” he almost sings, “are you...untouched?” 

You lock up and grab at his hands, trying to free yourself. 

“Is that why you’re so shy?” He snickers and spins you around, hands going to your waits, “I’m honoured to be your first.” 

You gape at him, horrified. His intent hasn’t been hard to guess but said aloud, it is all too imminent. 

[dadsbongos]

mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. mommy?

kink adventures tag 1.2 K words / warnings - mommy kink, stuckage, stepcest roleplay, p in v sex (unprotected), degradation? i think?

summary - tomura’s mental health and psychology is a nightmare which i thought should be highlighted here haha

~~~

"Honey!"

Wheels roll dully against the plastic mat beneath your boyfriend’s desk, then soft padding across carpet, then a twisted laugh, before finally the laundry room door creaks open. Brass handle thudding into the wall.

“What?”

Tomura’s tone is unusually callous, even downright bored, and you’d be offended if not for the sundress hanging around your spread thighs. Your precariously cramped waist between his dryer and the wall, and the budding anticipation swelling in your chest.

“Can you help me? I’m a little stuck…”

“Ugh,” with your head hanging, you can just barely peer at his socked feet behind you, he then falls to his knees. Sweatpants loose, a bulb growing more apparent at his groin. Uselessly his arms hang at his sides until they disappear up, two seconds later is the warmth of his palms on your hips, “Fine.”

You rock back towards him but make no other effort to slip from the gap, not that Tomura is actually pulling. He leans as if he is, and quiet, husky grunts leave his mouth as if he is, but the only difference in his hold is how he squeezes your love handles.

“How’d this even happen?” Tomura grumbles, one hand moving to the back of your neck and wrapping it with his hand to pull again, “You’re such a ditz, dunno how my dad married you.”

“Be nice!”

“Only thing you’re good for is…” he yanks you back, jerking your rear into his erection and grinding against you. His thumb brushes tenderly along the column of your throat, “I bet he doesn’t even give it to you right. Old, limp bastard,” he squeezes around the back of your neck, “You walk around here practically begging for it,” he sighs, “You’re meant to be a slut, not a housewife.”

“What’re you doing, Tomura?” you drawl your voice a little more shrill, kicking flaccidly at his thighs as he uses both hands to work down his pants. Knuckles scratching your skin, “Get me out!”

“I will,” he reaches beneath the soft, thin skirt of your dress to pull down your panties, “Gotta get you wet, add some friction, it’s pretty basic. Though, I guess someone like you wouldn’t understand that.”

Tomura is disturbingly good at the bratty step-son character.

Weirdly, it makes you push further into him.

Papping the flushed head of his cock against your slit, Tomura spreads you open with his tip, pouring into the way his girth is swallowed by your slick. Your back arches, chest burdening the floor, a soft whine escapes you, making Tomura reattach his hand on your neck. Palming your throat to use as leverage as he bucks inside you.

“Tomura,” you whine.

“Tenko.”

“Huh?”

As a distraction, you assume, Tomura thrusts until his thighs are clapping yours. He huffs and groans, “Call me Tenko.”

“Tenko,” you moan, his hand squeezing the sides of your neck, and the other wringing you back into him by your waist.

“Yeah, mommy?” surprise wavers your arousal again, “Something you need to say? Or do you just like squealing?”

“Tenko…?”

His chapped lips find your pulse, sucking and biting along your neck, tongue affectionately cooling his teeth marks. You feel as if you two should talk about this.

You also feel as if Tomura’s not in the talking mood.

You decide to temper your confusion for now, instead meeting him at every thrust.

“Mommy,” he whimpers, raking blunt nails along your hips, “So wet for me,” just to rub in the point, his hand on your neck flies under your dress and between your legs. Fingers dance along where his cock splits you open, glossing his fingers just to dangle in your face obnoxiously, “You like me that much?”

Tomura flips up the flowy skirt of your dress entirely, fake AC goodness melting away under frizzling, spastic energy. Slowly, he glides out of your cunt just to feel the slow suck and squeeze of your inside. Hot and gooey.

“What if he came home right now, huh?”

Yeah, what if?

You’d be exposed -- soaking and full of dick, chirping out little “ah, ah, ah!”s at Tomura’s demanding plunges. The taboo nature only makes you tighten around him, flinging a hand back to snag his loose shirt and wrangle him nigh on top of you. Vague buzzing flows from behind you, the raspy and teasing foundation of Tomura’s voice -- not that you’re listening. You’re smothering his sound with moans and whines of your own. Content to wail against the back wall of Tomura’s laundry room until he plucks you out from the gap by your neck.

“You listenin’?” he cackles, rolling you onto the cold laundry floor before lugging your thighs into his hands and gleefully listening to wheeze as he presses them to your chest. Dipping back into your plush cunt, Tomura hands his head and babbles lamely, “Tell me you need it, mommy. You want my cum, right? Tell me I can cum in you.”

“Want it so bad, baby,” you gasp and twitch under his newfound vigor, “Cum in me, cum for mommy.”

Heat flares in your face as you call yourself such a perverted title.

But you just can’t stop.

“Mommy loves your cock, honey.”

“Uh-huh?” Tomura’s cheeks are stained red, voice now dripping pathetic.

“Fucking mommy so well.”

“Uh-huh?” he inhales sharply, eyes clenched shut.

He stretches over you, muffling your next sentence by obsessively kissing your lips.

“Such a good boy.”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh?” he mutters against your lips.

“Cum inside mommy, Tenko,” you coo, back arching off the floor.

“Ohmygod, fuck!” Tomura stills inside your cunt, eyes flying open as he heaves for breath -- cum spilling inside you, “Fuck me!”

He collapses onto you, releasing your legs to curl around him. You scratch through his shaggy hair silently, letting your eyes flutter closed. You allow yourself to bask in the moment before ‘spontaneously’ Remembering™.

. . .

“So…” you drawl, post euphoria glow fading way to curiosity, both natural and morbid, “Tenko?”

“I changed my name. A long time ago. I don’t go by Tenko anymore.”

“Obviously,” you sit up, elbows pitched against the hardwood floor. He can sense your upset, he must be able to because he’s pointedly ignoring your stare, “Tomura.”

“What?”

“Is there anything I should know about?” in his silence, you flood the room with more words, “I get it, if there’s something you’re not ready to share. I just don’t want you to think you have to keep anything from me. Or that, I dunno. I don’t like the idea of finding something out like this, but years down the line. Or from one of your friends. I don’t want to not know you.”

Tomura’s only response is a quiet, “You want to be together years down the line?”

“Yeah,” you’d feel ridiculous for the admission, if Tomura didn’t look more flustered than you felt, “But you should probably be more open with me, you know?”

“It’s nothing,” he sighs, shakes his head, and quickly continues before you can pout, “I just hated my given name, so I started going by Tomura in grade school. Had it legally changed a few years ago.”

“That’s all?”

“I don’t talk to my Dad. And not usually my mom. Sometimes my sister.”

“Okay,” you can faintly string those details altogether, laying back down, “Thanks for sharing.”

Tomura yawns with a small nod, tightening his arms around you, “Now you have to tell me something when I’m in my right mind.”

“Okay :3 ”