#either intense self loathing or annoying arrogance

[yanoharuhito]

grey really fucked me up beyond belief i am SO insecure about relationships at this point

[the-rainbow-lesbian]

(Sorry, I'm not used to avoiding search systems 😭) In your opinion, who are the worst moids from g3nsh/n? For me it's Alh4it/am, X/a0, Ay4t0 and Chi//d3. Alh/it/am is an annoying arrogant prick. X/a0 is a generic angsty boy and the designated husbando, the game forces you to interact with him and there aren't any options to be rude to him. I don't need to explain Ay4t0. C/i//de is also annoying and his thirsty fangirls are even worse.

(lol no worries thank you for asking again I’ll repost my answer)

I dislike lots of males from gensh!n and it’s mostly the tall models tbh. zhongl! was cool until the archon reveal (I thought he was a funny autistic dude who is special interest was m0rax/history in general and it was better that way) he is kinda of an ass? I don’t care for alh4ith4m because he is so arrogant, and for what? ugly design, ugly personality, ugly everything, and I feel the same exact way about d!luc. actually I don’t mind x!ao? I disliked him intensely at first until I realized he is less arrogant and more just extremely awkward and self-loathing with no regards for his life whatsoever, I have more empathy for him after playing the perilous trail, he is also very shippable with a3ther and vent! (sometimes that’s all males good for, shipping them with other males)

I wouldn’t care for ayat0 if his fans weren’t very homophobic and insist that m!ko loves him (ew that girl loves pussy and pussy only) ch!lde is just…. there?? he is just a weird dude and he is also the actual “yandere” not ayak4, it’s actually funny when the traveler is always highly sus of him but he is legit so obsessed with the traveler, him and x!ao are more obsessed with the traveler of either sex in general compared to the female characters who have more of a life lol.

my least favorite has to be itt0 though, I have no idea why he gets so much attention in inazum4 timed events, I am so so sick of this man, he is dripping with inadequacy and he is frustrating to watch. and apparently sara feels harassed by him?? 🔪 🔪 speaking of sara I wish she would get a crumb of the screentime they give itt0

in general I dislike all tall males and would rather not use them they are an eyesore and just ruin the vibe of the party. some male twinks are okay. most of the time I am apathetic towards most male characters but their fans are always one of the most insufferable people on the planet and just misrepresent lore to give their male faves more credit on the expense of the female characters (saw someone once claim ayat0 has more authority than m!ko and without him she can’t do anything I almost lost my mind over how stupid of a statement that was)

[chaotic-saturne]

Let it die

TW: suicide, transphobia, self loathing, BPD and probably other unhealthy stuff

You know, the feeling of drowning

I remember, at 17, heavily depressed, feeling like I could not take it anymore. Monsters within reaching for my feet and I could not stop them. I could not. I didn’t even try I think. I was so deep in my head, in my sad and empty bubble, that drowning felt like home. At least, more than what was supposed to be home: violent tears and guilt thrown at my throat from my beloved but so despised mother ; also aggressive words, hatred from my father’s voice choking any air that could be left. 

I don’t know what could be done at this time. To be honest, I still don’t know now. 

I’m 19. 

I’m emotionally a foster child. 

I don’t know how to deal with my emotions. I either feel like there are butterflies fleeing from my brain, fireworks pounding my heart and my whole soul feeling like I am invincible. Then, two minutes after, the sudden rush of euphoria disappears. All is left is despair. All is left of me is this addictive need to die, to let go of everything that’s left. Then, the depressed feelings disappear too: now comes anger. Anger kicks in my guts, anger kicks in my mind, yelling I should kill them all, cuz no one deserves me. And when all those feelings are too much, because it’s always too much, it’s never something else than a mountain on your chest, well, when the mountain vanishes, appears from nowhere the blurry void, the mysterious emptiness. Then, I look at the world like I’m outside of this whole universe. I don’t even feel human, more like an odd blue star, hoping to suspend time and watch all of is done be stopped. Maybe, then, maybe, I could remember happiness. But happiness is this old that even in my youth, nostalgia doesn’t look this aged. Happiness is a feeling, a state of mind, a being, that I don’t recognize anymore. This spirit of ataraxy is something I know I could not reach no more.?

 I don’t know how to deal with people. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you. All of these thoughts, crushing in my brain. It’s not that I split and idealize to hate you in the end that matters. What matters is that it’s intense. Someone can turn from my deity personified to my worst enemy. When I worship and adore someone, I’m also so scared, anxiety pushing me to see all my fears. Because I will always be too much for them. I hate being too much. But I can’t control it. That’s the way I am. An overreactive annoying bastard. Then, you will leave me, and my thoughts were right, as they always are. Fear of abandonment, this long time friend. As Death is to me my forever lover, Abandonment is my best friend. Abandonment is the only friend that stays in the end. When they all turn their back and no longer think of me, Abandonment stays by my side.

 I don’t know how to deal with life. As a whole. I don’t know how to go to work, I don’t know how to speak to people, I don’t know how to make things work, I don’t know how to do, have and be. I wish I weren’t born. Existing is so tiring, and I barely manage to survive. 

How can I live in a world that doesn’t want me?

Kim says the world is ready for me.

Not when people tell me I’m a ghost I am not. When they say I should be her, that they love her, that they still see her in me. That every she, lady, miss, kill me. Her body is what I see in front of the mirror. I hear her in my voice. I watch her in my hips, my face, my breast. I fear people love her and not me. That I’m not real and she is, while I want it to be the contrary. Maybe if I disappeared people would finally see. But I don’t want to be another statistic. Another trans percentage. Another trans death. Yet, living is harder and tougher every day. 

Not when people tell me I’m faking all the things in my head. I don’t know how to correctly love. I fear being as abusive as my parents are. Or maybe was I the one abusive ? Mom tells me I’m manipulative and toxic. Maybe she’s right. Perhaps dad was right. I’m an arrogant ungrateful kid. I should respect him more, talk to him more. Forgive and forget him for the hatred, bigotry and fear. Maybe I should...just not be me.

I”m socially awkard. 

I’m not made for this fucking world.

So let it die I guess.

[josefinaventura-blog]

Hello! My name is Dani, and this is my dramatic hero girl Jo! I’m so excited to write her and to be a part of this RP, and I’d love to plot with each and every one of you! If you’d like to plot something with my girl, give this post a like and I’ll hit you up, or feel free to im me!

cierra ramirez + female + she/her.┊ ❛ ━ hey, is it just me or do you hear glitter and gold by barns courtney playing in the distance ? oh, thats just metallic, a chaotic good member of the league of heroes. i suspect they might be josefina ventura, a twenty-four year old mechanic with the ability to manipulate metal. according to my sources, she can be confident, but also impulsive which is probably why they remind everyone of yellow and smoke so much. anyway, a superhero or not, crystalline city is keeping a close eye on them! (dani, 23, cst, she/her) 

HISTORY

Born in the suburbs of Crystalline City to a successful surgeon and a housewife, it seemed as though Josefina Ventura was destined for mediocrity. While her older sister was often doted upon for being smart, Jo lacked any real drive when it came to school, leading her to receive grades that were average at best.

Like most married couples, Jo’s parents fought often, leading her to spend most of her time at home with her older sister to avoid the arguments. It was because of this that she wasn’t entirely aware of her father’s drinking problem until it came to a head when she was eight. While Jo’s sister wasn’t entirely surprised when their parents were in a drunk driving accident that resulted in the death of their mother, Jo was blindsided.

Because he was drunk when he caused the accident and because a particularly good prosecutor argued that the resulting death could have been premeditated due to the marital issues between the couple, Jo’s father was sentenced to life in prison. With few other options, Jo and her sister were sent to live with their elderly aunt.

Their aunt was neglectful at best, wanting little to do with the two young girls who’d wound up in her care. She made it clear that she’d accepted them into her home out of an obligation to their mother and nothing else, and she did little to actually care for them. Because of this, Jo’s sister picked up the slack, taking on the role of caretaker and raising Jo practically on her own. When she moved out of their aunt’s house at eighteen, she took Jo with her.

Jo’s powers began to manifest when she was fifteen. Immediately, she found herself enthralled with what she could do, and she began defining herself entirely by her powers and her capabilities. She’d never been good at school and never cared for sports, but thanks to her new abilities, she found she could have some sort of worth. It wasn’t long before she was out in the streets honing her abilities and using them to help people.

She hid both her powers and her use of them from her sister, not wanting to add any more stress to her plate.

Since mechanics were the only thing aside from her powers that had ever come naturally to her, Jo got a job at a local mechanic’s shop the moment she was old enough to do so. When she started making enough to get by, she moved out of her sister’s apartment and got a place of her own to better hide her late night hobby.

Jo has been with the League of Heroes for a while now, working her mechanic job by day and helping keep the city safe at night. She tends to throw herself heavily into her heroics, intent on proving that powered people can be good and shouldn’t be feared for what they can do.

POWERS

Jo’s powers give her the ability to manipulate metal. Her ability works on all types of metal and metallic alloys, though she has more control over things with more metal in them. 

Using magnetism, Jo can form a force field of limited capabilities around herself. This takes a great deal of concentration, however, and is difficult to maintain during a fight.

By manipulating the magnetic fields around her, Jo can sustain flight for extended periods of time. She uses this often in battles, and through practice, has gotten good at it.

PERSONALITY

Though undiagnosed, Jo suffers from ADHD. This makes her easily distracted from the task at hand, forgetful, restless, anxious, and incredibly impulsive.

Aside from this, Jo also suffers from self confidence issues tracing back to the way she was treated by authority figures throughout her childhood. She craves attention and acceptance, and she often goes to unhealthy lengths to get it. While she’s outwardly confident to the point of arrogance, she struggles with intense self loathing that she tends to push deep down.

Of course, Jo has many positive traits as well. She’s incredibly loyal to the people around her, and once she’s decided that someone is her friend, she’ll do anything for them. She’s incredibly brave, and often selfless when it comes to protecting those who need it.

CONNECTIONS

Because of her intense need for attention, Jo is kind of a party girl. She enjoys going out, and obviously she likes surrounding herself with people when she does so. I’d love for her to have friends with similar hobbies who she can hit up when she’s looking for an escape.

Her need to be accepted often leads Jo into brief but passionate relationships. Jo probably has a string of exes (both men and women) ranging from serious relationships that didn’t work out to hookups that never really developed beyond a friends-with-benefits type connection. It’s up to you how they interact now; Jo doesn’t form attachments easily, but she’s also very dramatic, so both heated exes who hate each other and chill exes who are still pals are possibilities here!

Jo’s been a superhero since she was a teenager, and that means she met a lot of other superheroes while on the job! I think it would be cool for her to have at least one hero who’s a very close friend, one who she trusts enough to fight alongside often.

Being the world’s most dramatic person, Jo tends to get very into fights with villains. There’s probably at least one villain she considers to be her nemesis. Whether this villain sees her similarly or thinks of her more as an annoying hero who sometimes gets in their way is UTP, but Jo will almost certainly be dramatic about it either way!

I’m obviously open for connections beyond these, too! If you have any wanted connections you could see my girl filling or if you’d like to plot something fresh, please feel free to hit me up!

[a-nebulose]

Skybound Reunion

It was good to be home… or as close as she could be to home in that moment. Melwyn basked in the starlight atop the tallest tower of Dalaran, the tower of the Tirisgarde itself, as she overlooked the floating city below. The winds parted around her as the young woman balanced with effortless grace upon the railing of the tower’s highest balcony. Technically, she supposed, non-mages weren’t allowed where she was.

But who would dare to tell that to a kaldorei woman scarred of face and clad in the leather armor of an Alliance scout? To say nothing of her odd staff, the blade that would normally have marked it as a scythe extinguished and hidden. All of these things made her relatively immune to being called out for her trespass, at least for the time being, and she had the whole of the balcony to herself. The druidess took a deep breath of the clear air, the first lungful of wind not tainted by Fel in over a week, and exhaled it out in a sigh. Her starmotes, shimmering nimbuses of blue and violet, with cores of white, floated around her as always, constant companions no matter how dire the circumstances, luminous reflections of her peace of mind.

The relative silence was shattered by sounds of mirth, though Mel was far from annoyed by that, the laughter and conversation as a party moved out onto the balcony music to her ears. She turned, to face inward and catch a glimpse of the newcomers, no doubt mages taking time off from their work. The more mischievous part of her looked forward to baffling them with the sight of her balancing act. But when her bright gaze fell on the group, the smile that had been teasing about her lips died a swift and untimely death.

A cadre of mages did indeed stand in the periphery of the balcony. She glossed over the two humans, the dwarf, and the gnome, and focused instead on the tallest of them all, a kaldorei like herself. A man, his hair a dark blue-green, his features refined and aquiline, and his robe patterned in a grand fashion. He seemed reserved, but in good spirits, until eyes of a duller silver than her own rose, and spotted her. And a horrified mix of apprehension, anger, and guilt marred them.

The inane and pathetic urge to fly away boiled up in Melwyn’s gut, and she felt her teeth baring themselves as if of their own accord. Her starmotes flared up and grew still, and her gloved hands clenched as she stared right back at him. Soon, the remaining mages noticed that standoff, looking between them both with some confusion.

Finally, the dwarf cleared his throat. “Brenthar, lad, do ye… need a moment?” The wizened face peered up at the bearded kaldorei in a way that suggested a kinship, and a familiarity, one shared by the other mages. The fact that the source of her ire had friends sent a vindictive little spurt of anger through her once more.

After a moment, Brenthar replied, not once looking away from her, with the air of someone confronted with a venomous snake. “That would be appreciated, yes.” His Common was more accented than hers, something Mel took a petty satisfaction in. The soft tone was enough to disperse the mages, however, though the youngest human, a woman, cast a curious glance over her shoulder at both elves before she vanished around the corner. Alone, the two regarded one another carefully, neither willing to speak. It was, however, Brenthar who lost the battle of silence. “You look… different.” He took a few careful steps closer. While he not tall for a kaldorei, barely two inches taller than she was, Melwyn refused to relinquish her perch, and the height advantage it offered, staring down at him. The druidess grudgingly gave him credit for matching her gaze, if only barely. “I don’t remember your eyes being so… sharp.” He finished lamely.

“You didn’t spend much time looking at them.” Melwyn replied coolly, not for the first time wishing she’d been graced with a more powerful voice. “What are you doing here, Brenthar?” She almost spat the name, and again some part of her wanted to leave. But another part was very much interested in trying to make him squirm. Much to her dismay, he didn’t seem to be doing that to the level she truly wanted.

In response, the Highborne gestured behind him. “I work here. I’ve been working and serving the Alliance for years now, as an instructor and as an agent. Your uncle made it clear what would happen if I so much as spoke to you again, but there wasn’t anything left for me but to… join the world.” Some anger burned on his expression, briefly, as he reached up with his left hand to touch the matching ear, half of the appendage burnt off. “I was… regretful, when I heard he’d died. He was a good man.”

That brought a sneer to Mel’s face, as a snort of disbelieving derision came from her delicate nose. “I don’t think you were regretful at all. You hated him, from the moment you two met.”

“I did. I met him for all of ten minutes, and I hated him for years after. Because he forced me to look into a mirror. Because he hurt me, and burned me.” A long pause, and then another murmur, lower than before. “Because he took you from me.”

Melwyn snarled, then, her crescent moon pendant flaring, her eyes ablaze in argent fury, her starmotes lighting the night air around her. Brenthar didn’t flinch, but his eyes widened, and it struck her that he had truly never seen her like this before. That the last time he had seen her, she had been a meek, sobbing mess at his feet. “I was never yours to keep. Never yours to have, never yours to use. I wasn’t some plaything for your amusement, and I wasn’t something to take your frustrations out on.” Fury that she hadn’t felt in months, coupled with an old hurt, bubbled up inside her, and in that moment, Melwyn wasn’t certain she wouldn’t attack right then and there.

Her rage wasn’t met with a babbled apology, or arrogant denial, however. It was met with anger in kind, though not as intense, as the mage stepped forward. “Yes, you were. Because you were raised to be that, trained to be that. Just as I was raised and trained to take advantage of it. It was wrong, yes, but don’t pretend that either of us knew any better.”

“You knew better at the end.”

That made him jerk back as though he’d been slapped, and his anger vanished into shame and self-loathing. And Melwyn became very frustrated that the sight of those emotions on his face didn’t bring her the satisfaction she thought they would have. He looked at his hands, then, and didn’t speak for some time, time enough for Melwyn to calm herself just a tad. When he finally spoke, the soft bass of his voice was contemplative. “I did, in the end. When I was made to look like a fool, when I was forced to take a look at my self-image, and spit in its face.” He looked up at her again. “Your uncle saved both of us from the traps we led into by our parents, both of us molded to suit a world long gone. You were all I had, but I didn’t deserve you, and you deserved more than the life of servitude that was offered. I’m sorry, Melwyn Dewpetal.”

She stood on her perch for a while, watching him. For better or worse, the young woman had always been skilled at picking up emotion. What she saw on his face, in his stance, annoyed her with its sincerity. “It’s Duskstorm. Do you really think I want an apology? From you, of all people?”

“Honestly, I don’t know you well enough to presume what you want.” Came the reply.

Melwyn glared down at him, wanting to scream, to yell, to blast him, to make him hurt. Instead, she murmured back. “No, you don’t. You never wanted to.”

“And if I want to now?” Again he was trying to meet her eyes, far more steadily than before, and carrying a barely hopeful, earnest look.

Her face grew cold, and remote, and she knew in that moment she most likely resembled her adoptive mother at her most vicious. “It’s too late. Years too late.” Then she let herself fall, down into the city, her body changing as she descended, until as an owl she tore through the air as quickly as she could, leaving behind Dalaran.

But even as her body flew, Melwyn’s mind swam through memories. She prayed that she wouldn’t drown in them.