#feelings about perceiving and perception of myself as of late | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mycurrentobsessionis · 4 months ago

Text

After the Happy Ending: Do They Stay Together?

I don't believe that Baxter and Jamie are "in love," per se.

I made a post the other day talking about Baxter's rigidity and tendency to assert control over his relationships, and one of the reblogs included in the tags that there is no way that somebody still has feelings for someone that they met 5 years ago. This got me thinking on the realism of relationships in OL and the way pacing plays into the perception of that realism. Objectively, the best written romance in OLBA is the one between Cove and Jamie. Their relationship is the most deeply developed, includes the most content, and is the best supported textually. Baxter and Derek, on the other hand, have approximately the same amount of content. I found myself somewhat disappointed with Derek's romance (though I intend to replay his a few times to see if I can get some more satisfying outcomes) as it felt less like the slow-burn I expected and more meandering. Baxter's, on the other hand, felt a lot tighter in terms of pacing, despite the fact that in terms of in-universe timelines, he spends very little time with Jamie.

What do I mean by this? I mean that the player perceives less time passing over the course of Baxter's route. Or, more accurately, there are less "slow" spots. For the rest of this analysis, I will be making the following assumptions:

I am assuming all possible Baxter-related content.

I am assuming order of play as recommended by the creators (a Baxter-run includes replacing the 5 base-game moments with Baxter's moments and in chronological order).

Baxter develops a mild crush on/interest in Jamie at the Summer Soiree in Step 2.

Baxter and Jamie form a romantic attachment in Step 3, regardless of whether they formalize that attachment or not (e.g., Jamie being at "crush" but not actually dating Baxter).

The interest/comfort indicator does not necessarily represent Jamie's feelings at the beginning of each step.

I will admit to burying the lede a bit here. If the question is, "Do I personally believe that Baxter and Jamie are in love by the end of Step 4," then the short answer is no. I believe that being truly in love requires time, effort, and patience, and I think that Baxter, with the shortest timeline in-universe, does not have the time to cultivate that kind of relationship with Jamie. Rather, the questions I want to answer, and the ones I think are more interesting are these: Do Baxter and Jamie believe they are in love? Why do they believe this? Is their beginning a relationship realistic? And, are they likely to last as a couple?

Before we begin answering these questions, I think it's important to clarify the timeline of their relationship. They first meet in what is presumably late summer of 2011, and they have an approximately 3-5 minute interaction that includes minimal dialogue. There is no contact until the summer of 2016, during which they form a romantic attachment wherein Baxter is romantically and sexually attracted to Jamie, and Jamie returns at least the romantic feelings and possibly sexual feelings. This relationship lasts, generously, 3 months, and realistically 2-2.5 months. During the relationship, Baxter attempts to impress Jamie, shows his best side, and is largely performative, though there is genuine affection for Jamie, who is generally kind, cheerful, and inclusive. The relationship ends in August, either amicably or dramatically, and does not resume until approximately August of 2021, during which they work together on the Eckert-Adam wedding for four days, followed by the two days after the wedding, during which they begin a romantic relationship.

So, let's start with the question of whether Baxter and Jamie beginning a relationship is realistic. Personally, I think yes. You have to consider that this is a fictional romance story, and thus there is some suspension of disbelief that is required. The trope of two people working on a wedding together and falling in love through the process of that is not an uncommon trope. If the best man and maid of honor can fall in love under those circumstances, I don't see why a planner and a member of the planning committee couldn't. Frankly, the plot of Step 4 alone would not be out of place if this were a Hallmark movie.

Then we must consider the circumstances. These are two young people who are currently attracted to one another and have been attracted to one another in the past. They have just spent several days working in close proximity under intense pressure and on an event that tends to evoke thoughts of romance and love.

In addition to these circumstances, there are personal factors involved. I will start with Baxter, as his character is more "stable" and less influenced by player choices. Baxter has significant attachment issues that lead him to form unstable, short-term relationships that he quickly abandons at the first sign of conflict, which is likely related to childhood emotional neglect (I elaborate on this topic in this post). This has led to Baxter suffering from extreme loneliness and self-isolation as a young adult, as he has, at this point, burned most bridges in his life. Developmentally speaking, Baxter should be seeking connections with other people at this age in his life.

Attachment issues, like Rome, are not built in a day. They occur over a lifetime of neglect. As a result, they often create habitual and reactionary behavior that takes years to unlearn. In Step 3, we see a few of these behaviors, such as in "Drinks." In this moment, Baxter makes a minor mistake due to sleepiness. Jamie attempts to comfort him and/or brush off the mistake as no big deal, while offering an easy solution. However, Jamie is unable to connect with Baxter at all or to coregulate. Instead, Baxter becomes emotionally dysregulated and runs through possible solutions that he can implement on his own before reluctantly accepting the necessary assistance but refusing to be soothed. Compare this to a similar moment on Derek's route where Cove and Jamie forget their wallets, Derek offers to make the purchase for them, and they can either accept his generosity or offer to pay him back. Unlike Jamie, Baxter's negative feelings (embarrassment and disappointment), which are otherwise completely normal and valid reactions to the situation, persevere far beyond what is normal.

The major difference between Baxter's attachment issues in Steps 3 and 4 is that he is semi-aware of them in Step 4. In Step 3, he has poor insight into his own behavior and is extremely sensitive to perceived rejection, which he anticipates and attempts to circumvent. Baxter engages in various cognitive distortions, most frequently rationalization and catastrophizing, that cause him high levels of anxious distress in relationships and make it difficult for him to continue them for very long and lead to him attempting to assert control over the relation. As @mistyscenter says here, Baxter engages in a behavior called impression management, wherein he is attempting to influence Jamie's, and others', perceptions of him through regulating and controlling the information they have about him. This is likely a subconscious process for him -- basically second nature -- and allows him to feel safe in the relationship.

As of Step 4, he has ended his relationship with his parents, which was likely defined by seeking love and approval through minimizing his own needs and emotions and managing theirs. What does this accomplish? It removes the relationship that reinforced Baxter's worst habits. As long as this relationship was maintained, Baxter would be caught in a feedback loop of being positively reinforced for conforming to impossible standards set by his parents. As he could not hope to actually conform to the standards set for him (Derek actually does something similar), he is instead rewarded for manipulating the information that he gives his parents and that is what is reinforced. While we don't know when this split happened, I would assume he did it around 2019, when he no longer relied on them financially. That gives two years for those behaviors to fade. The reason those behaviors flare up again in step for is, in layman's terms, a case of slipping back into old habits. In psychological terms, this is known as spontaneous recovery -- Jamie's unexpected appearance provides a trigger for anxiety, which leads to the old avoidance behavior (leaving the restaurant), which reduces anxiety, which reinforces the avoidance behavior, and essentially lights those old neural pathways up like a Christmas tree. This is why the increased insight is important. While Baxter has fallen out of some of his worse habits, he hasn't actually formed any new, positive coping mechanisms, which means that when he is distressed, he immediately runs for the familiar. It isn't enough to just know he has a problem -- he has to actively choose to change his response. Because 19-year-old Baxter spent so much time rationalizing what were actually unreasonable emotional responses to perceived rejection and abandonment, he was incapable of doing anything different. The older 24-year-old Baxter is capable of facing past mistakes and doing something about them, though it will likely take years to relearn how to self-regulate and connect with people in a positive way habitually.

So, what does all of this have to do with my questions? A lot, actually! Baxter will tell Jamie after the wedding that he often revisited his memories with Jamie in Sunset Bird and treated them as precious, particularly those involving Jamie. Memories are not like files on a computer -- they are unstable and liable to change each time we recall them. On either side of these memories are long periods of loneliness, isolation, and self-doubt. It is probable that Baxter sees these memories as a lighthouse in a storm, something that he heavily romanticizes and clings to for comfort, much as he does his memories with Qiu and Ren. He also later adds that Jamie was the most stable relationship in his adult life. There is also the point that Baxter engages in mild superstition (or magical thinking), such as assigning meaning to coincidence (repeatedly running into Jamie over the years). This is part of why I don't think they are actually in love -- at least part of Baxter's feelings are based on a romanticized ideal of Jamie. That isn't to say I don't believe he could fall in love with the reality, just that it will take time. It does, however, lend credibility to the idea that he would restart the relationship. It is important to note his timing. Jamie is back in town for 6 days, and if Jamie does not restart the relationship themselves, Baxter will. He, notably, does this on day 5. Why is this important? It's simple, really. Days 1-3 are spent reliving memories from the first time he and Jamie formed an attachment, likely triggering the dormant feelings he had back then. While this caused him negative feelings, such as shame, guilt, embarrassment, and self-loathing, nostalgia is also a hell of a drug. On day 4, when Jamie responds positively to the idea or them reconnecting, that eases his anxiety regarding their relationship. He will protest a relationship early on if Jamie attempts to begin before he has explained his behavior and properly apologized. However, Jamie is also leaving soon. While Baxter is no longer choosing to see relationships as finite and time-bound, it's probably hard for him to kick the habit entirely. For an example of this in Step 3, he makes several comments in "Mountains" about how "it will be over soon" and "I wish it wouldn't end." He has some semi-conscious anxiety that Jamie leaving will mark the end of his opportunity to re-establish their romantic relationship, something that he holds on a pedestal, and hurries to do so to avoid feelings of abandonment. Also hence immediately wanting to visit Jamie after the events of the game.

It's hard to list personal factors for Jamie, as so much is essentially headcanon. However, there are some common factors. The first is, again, nostalgia is a hell of a drug. They have revisited many moments in which Jamie likely has very positive associations. The second is that while Baxter is not necessarily their first crush/relationship, he is their first adult relationship and one that ended against their will. There are a lot of "what ifs" that go along with that, particularly if one tends to ruminate.

So, do I think that these two maintained feelings for each other across 5 years of no-contact. Well... kind of, but not really. I think that Baxter likely did carry a flame for the idea of Jamie -- i.e., the idea of being in a loving relationship with someone who accepts you despite your worse tendencies. Baxter probably ruminated on the relationship and romanticized it. If he didn't date in the interim, then that was the last positive, stable relationship that he, and he ended it prematurely. If he did... well, basically the same thing is true. Jamie is a little more complicated, but I think it would have been more a case of lacking closure, which they can get without dating him, if they so choose. For both, I think the nostalgia of an old teen romance does a lot of heavy lifting. I do think that with personal and situational factors in mind, it isn't a stretch to believe that two people who are attracted to one another would reconnect in this way.

These two probably believe they are in love for many of the reasons they chose to get together in the end. The next question is, do they last? It's left up to the audience what happens next, so let's speculate. What kind of problems will they face as a couple? Most likely it will be similar problems to what they've already dealt with. Baxter has a lot of bad habits to unlearn and currently his support network is severely limited. His primary support person is Jamie, which is a heavy burden to place on another person, and likely to put strain on the relationship. His friend group consists mostly of Jamie's closest friends from childhood, which means talking to them about any relationship issues would likely be uncomfortable at best and unproductive or harmful at worst. His personal support group is basically Xavier, with whom he is fairly friendly, but there isn't a lot of depth there at this time. His outreach to others is primarily spurred by Jamie's encouragement and assistance. What would help them? I think that most of all, regardless of their future as a couple, Baxter needs to participate in some kind of counselling to learn distress tolerance, develop healthy coping skills, and reframe his understanding of relationships. Couples therapy would likely help them both learn healthy communication and give them a safe place to discuss developing problems in the relationship, especially during stressful times. It's normal to have some conflict in a relationship, but that is also when Baxter is most likely to relapse. Knowing how to work through those problems before they crop up will prevent the relationship from breaking under pressure. Lastly, Baxter needs to develop a healthy support network that exists outside of Jamie and that is likely to survive should his romantic relationship fail. A relationship is like a bridge: you want both embankments to be strong and stable, and you want there to be a little give. If there is too much pressure (such as Baxter equating losing Jamie to losing his entire social circle), then it won't take much for it to snap.

#olba #olba baxter #baxter ward #did i just spend 2.5 hours on this? yes #sorry #i am a nerd for psychology writing and romance novels #so there's that #this has been knocking around my brain all day and I had to get it out

72 notes · View notes

chibicharlie95 · 11 days ago

Text

Random Late Evening Thoughts

Olrox and Mizrak

Spoilers for Castlevania Nocturn S2

...

Soooo I think I may start doing some media analysis and thoughts here so please bare with me as I manage my thoughts and rambles.

...

So I really love Castlevania as a series both the OG and the sequel series in Nocturn. The series has a tendency to address really hard-hitting topics in a way that is approachable, but doesn't skimp out on the beautiful animation or action sequences, and it is just a top-tier show for me personally.

That said Castlevania nocturne has a specific reoccurring theme throughout as IT addresses morality and the impacts of immortality on that morality.

In season 2 it really focuses on a lot of the religious aspects of this concept happening within a time period of intensive discourse and strife about those very same things. In season 2 there is a large focus on characters who are facing a crisis of morality.

You have one character who as their life is revealed is shown to be a true faithful to their deity, who gets lost in their feelings of obligation and personal loss, that they lose sight of the mission their deity had imparted to them. Another character faces the difficult task of dealing with personal devastation and how that impacts their relationships with every single character that they interact with be that positively or negatively. This character is one who from the beginning of the series seems to embody everything that is good and righteous and innocent, so seeing the show take that same innocence and just utterly devastate it to the point that that character faces an intensive moral crisis was just a super interesting plot point.

Which all of this is to say, bringing myself to the actual point of this ramble, I think my favorite character in this second season and as far as my personal relatability is probably Mizrak. My reason for this is actually really really simple, I am a person who grew up within a highly religious atmosphere, and so I'm able to relate to a lot of his understandings and struggles within himself and with the situations that he is inevitably faced with. He is a character who is embodying the sense of moral uprightness or like Christian uprightness, or at least the perception of that from the view of the Christian person. Mizrak sees the corruption and that which can be perceived as evil throughout the story, but he feels as though it is his duty to his faith to uphold this so-called mission from who he believes to be a higher powered servant of God. And throughout the show we watch a deterioration of that trust in not only his faith community, but in himself, his fellow man, and eventually his God.

A big character point for him is his sexuality, which is again something that I really understand and relate to coming from a highly conservative religious environment. The second season hammers home in a very delicate way the fear that he has balancing his desire or love with his overwhelming sense of personal conviction. On the one hand he is supposed to represent this all for God very faithful, almost militant aspect of Christianity, but on the same token his so called "sins" are very human in nature. In the first season we watch him struggle with feelings of lust and an initial trepidation with his faith community, and the second season we see that completely fall apart.

By the halfway point of the second season Mizrak understands at least in his mind that he is in love with a vampire, but even more than that he's in love with a man. Which is something that from his conservative militant Christian upbringing, would be something so against god, against the natural order of things, against everything that he believes he stands for, that it messes with his head. And we witness him do everything he can to avoid thinking about it, to try to run away from his truth, and even to fearfully accept it.

At the second season's end, I found his story to be incredibly poignant and sad. Because on the one hand you have him facing this terrible battle, and being stricken down, only to be saved by his friends and the love of his life. But he is very clearly dying, and so there is an option put to him that he can either die or can continue on as a vampire. The problem that we see and that isn't solved in the last few minutes of the show, is the fallout of that decision. I say fallout, because Mizrak though he admits he is terrified of death, because he knows that he is a sinner according to his understanding of God and sin - and he understands that as a result of the choices that he's made and the love that he feels, that he is probably going to go to hell. He freely admits that fear, but he never asks for Olrox to change him verbally. And until the offering of an alternate end is given, he seems to be ready to accept that fear of death.

There is an argument to be made that he kind of just lets him do it, but the final scenes again have a multitude of interpretations. One could read his expression and body language as very angry, because the choice was taken from him. But on the same token you could read it as him just being a new vampire and having a craving for blood. We're not really given enough to make a final judgment call on that. But as someone who has only in the last several years started to deconstruct the very deeply rooted things I was taught, I'm leaning towards him being very angry. Because while he is terribly afraid of death, there is an assurity that he has in that death that his God exists, and that he lived his life serving that God in a way that he believed was just. By becoming a vampire, which is the antithesis of everything that he has been raised to believe in, he is being met with a very confronting set of options about the realities in the world. Mizrak is a person who sees the things that happen around him, and still tries to adhere to a singular idea of how the universe works. So when that is all called into question because of not only his heart, situation with the other characters, and lastly his untimely end, he is faced with a rather alarming dilemma. Either everything I know is correct and I die in agony, or everything I know is false and there is an anger there in having spent so long and so much of himself, including his life, in believing and practicing that.

I don't think we're going to get another season of the show, because unfortunately ratings are just not high enough for the series, but I really wish that they would and address the other character situations, and really let us see the ultimate impact of this whole situation with these two characters. Because there is something incredibly sad about their love. Not that it could not end well, but their entire relationship has been based on one of mistrust, and in transforming Mizrak, Olrox despite his love, has put a very steep barrier between them.

It's just going to show that the kindest gestures, the most heartfelt feelings that we have, can be incredibly detrimental to other people if they are not presented at the right time and the right place. Do I think that they will ultimately end up together even if the series is not ever completed, I think so. At least with a hopeful mind they would, that they would be able to overcome everything that they have faced, and the trials and mistrust that has formed their relationship - that perhaps with time they would overcome those things and maybe lose each other only to find each other at the right place at the right time again.

But also there's a very compelling narrative of hate growing between the two of them due to this misplaced idea of love when it was the wrong time and given in the wrong way. And as Castlevania leans more towards dark than hope, there is something to be said that this would likely be the narrative path they would choose.

But I'm going to sit in my corner and ship them all I want. LOL

That was my 30 minute rant using talk to text. So if there are typos, errors, or sentences that don't make sense please forgive them.

#castlevania nocturne #anime #rants #ramblings #olrox #castlevania olrox #olrox/mizrak #mizrak #castlevania mizrak

29 notes · View notes

mrradmccoolman · 2 months ago

Text

hello everynyan!! it's baby's second (?) tumblr post. i present to you:

ELLIOTT'S ANDERPERRY SONG ANALYSIS

okay, so, here's the gist of it: i have an ever-growing playlist on spotify of songs i feel fit neil, todd, or their relationship as a whole. each song is not only one i like, but also has lyrics that represent something specific about them. this sort of thing is something ive done for multiple characters for a long time, and ive always had carefully curated reasons behind my choices. i just recently got back into the dps fandom, and thought this would be a good way to not only show how i see the characters, but also become a part of the community on Tumblr myself :)

i will not be doing every song simply because i do not have the time and the playlist is way too long for that, but i'll definitely be choosing some favorites. i'll most likely just post whenever i feel like it, so i can't promise any sort of a timeline. this is just a little project i thought would be fun, especially considering the fics im working on take me ages lol 😅

sooo without further ado: song number one is....

Habanero by Rosie Tucker

i've been listening to a lot of rosie tucker's music lately, and this song really stood out to me as a todd/neil song from neil's perspective. one of the reasons i connect so much to neil as a character is because i see myself in him, and subsequently how he handles what i see as a very real depressive disorder throughout the movie. this song makes me think of his feelings and relationship with todd in canon, how he sees himself and todd, and the bittersweet-ness of loving someone in the "wrong" way.

"...you said "this never happens to me, this never happens" but you smile while you suffer so you're lying or wrong" this lyric encapsulates a big part of neil's perception of todd, especially towards the beginning of the movie. it specifically reminds me of the "what do you mean no?" scene and the argument they have leading up to it. it also alludes to todd's poem scene in front of the class and neil's reaction to it. he sees todd as saying this sort of bewildered, in awe, "this never happens to me," because, well, for todd, that's how it feels. he doesn't speak in front of people, he doesn't share parts of himself like that. i actually believe he didn't even really write poetry on his own before keating's class, either, so even writing at all is a big step for him- never mind showing others. we know todd hates public speaking and being perceived (although it's a lot more complicated than that, but i won't get into it here) so he "smiles while (he) suffers" because even though this is something he hates and feels so much shame about, a part of him is amazed and happy he did it at all. thus the "you're lying or wrong" from neil- i see this as neil recognizing that actually, knowing todd, this isn't the first time he's done something like this like he might think. in truth, todd says and does beautiful things like this all the time. though todd sees himself as dull and embarassing, neil sees the truth. we often think of neil as recognizing todd as a diamond in the rough, but people are more complicated than that. really, todd has always had this beauty inside him- this is just the first time he (and everyone else) has gotten the opportunity to really see it. neil feels vindicated in a sense, because he knew it was there.

"i'm never happy, but i've never been better" i feel this lyric is pretty straightforward when it comes to neil. he has depression, which makes it so so hard to feel happy, even when you think you should- and most of the time, neil doesn't even have those moments. todd isn't some cure-all for his problems, and certainly doesn't make his depression go away, but he's a huge aid to neil. he's the one person who really sees him. even if neil still isn't happy in the traditional way, he still feels better around todd. another thing i could get into buttt this post is already gonna be long enough as is lol.

"i need to see you sweat" i feel this one is also pretty self explanatory. it's sexuality and desire, something neil has likely not felt to this level before. especially when you're depressed, it's hard to feel any sort of desire. i feel that any thoughts neil would have would already be pretty vague because of his internalized homophobia, but this would be similar to the way he would allow himself to verbalize his feelings. there are a lot of great fics out there that i feel really encapsulate this well.

"wouldn't we be perfect together if we wanted exactly the same thing?" i would argue that the majority of the fandom kind of accepts neil's feelings for todd as pretty obviously requited, even though interestingly enough, from an outside perspective i would actually argue neil's feelings are the most obviously canon. not that i don't definitely believe todd feels the same, nor do i think this is a bad thing- it's just that the entire movie revolves around identity, and neil's passion for acting serves as a metaphor for queerness pretty obviously, and beyond that acting is associated with queer identity as a whole, another reason behind mr. perry's aversion to it. neil doesn't know if todd feels the same as he does. even if things may seem obvious to us, this isn't "normal" for the time period and so i believe wholeheartedly that neil didn't know todd had any feelings for him. was this more his own self hatred, him protecting himself, or that anything he saw that may have alluded to reciprocation he convinced himself was his own mind playing tricks on him? probably a mixture of all three.

"but i smile while i suffer like a sucker supreme" even though neil knows this won't end well, that his feelings are "wrong" and this is hurting him in the long run, he can't help himself when it comes to todd. he's a sucker for him and the feelings he gets being around him.

"all at once i'm a child trapping tadpoles in a cup, and i know they'll never make it (...) but i smile while they suffer 'cause i want it so much" neil knows being in the play, being with todd, and defying his father is a losing game. he knows, on a distant level, that he'll never get away with it. maybe during the play he finally, for one gorgeous moment, truly believed things would change- but then his father shows up and proves he was right all along. he knows he's doomed, that todd was right to doubt his plan to lie to his father in the first place, but he wants it so badly he doesn't care (or, more than that, he feels so incredibly trapped that he's given up and has resigned himself to the consequences). not only this, but his depression has made his latching onto the one thing that gives him hope even more intense. to be ripped away from this, the only thing he's ever wanted- the only person he's ever wanted- is the end. he knows that. even so, even though he can see the futility of it all crumbling beneath him, he sees the fall through.

"i can't believe i'll die before becoming a frog" there's a sort of disbelief in his resignation to death in his final moments, a darkly humorous "i can't believe it's come to this, that this is really happening" despite not really being surprised. neil is cutting everything short and throwing away his potential before his father gets the chance to do it for him. he'll never "become a frog" in so many ways- never get to live for himself, never get to become an adult, never get to act again, etc.

well...that was very long! if you've made it to the end of this post, i hope this was as fun for you as it was for me :)) i'll definitely be doing more of these as time goes on!! let me know your thoughts!!

(the playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3Fh97W8EItmoJHjQvjsBl4?si=WoH7J5GHTfmt3v7OuqbHnQ&pi=6x2g03n8Q1Knc )

| next ->

#dps #anderperry fanart #todd and neil #the dead poets society #dead poets fandom #neil perry #todd anderson #dps fandom #song lyrics #music analysis #Spotify

27 notes · View notes

kindnessoverperfection · 11 months ago

Note

Feel free to ignore this, but I'm a disabled writer who tends to focus on representation in my works, and I came across your posts about having npd while doing research for a side character in a story of mine. I really appreciate you taking the time to write out a description of npd that shows the roots of the issues and the way they affect the people who have it rather than how outsiders perceive it. I just wanted to ask if there were any traits of npd that you personally would like to see in npd representation/ if you have any thoughts on how you'd like to see characters with npd represented in media? I know at current there's basically no positive npd rep, which sucks for sure, but in a hypothetical situation where there was a character with npd who wasn't villianized for it, what sort of aspects of npd would be comforting for you to see reflected in a story?

Once again, feel free to ignore this ask if I'm overstepping at all, and I hope you have a wonderful day <3

Hi!! ♡ Apologies for the late reply, I wasn't on tumblr for a few days, then my alter was out for the next couple days and I wanted to be the one to respond-

I really appreciate that you're taking the time to research and create thoughtful representation, and I'm glad my posts could offer some help with that!

My first two thoughts are:

Characters whose symptoms present differently than the common portrayal of NPD

It's super common for people to not recognize NPD because they have this very limited view of what it is and how it can present - so it would be nice to see representation that shows variety in the way it can manifest.

For example, it's actually very common for someone with the disorder to primarily "lash in" rather than "lash out", but I never see that represented (intentionally, at least).

There's also a very limited perception of narcissistic characters being blatantly arrogant, grandiose, braggy, selfish, power-hungry, etc. But really, there's an unlimited number of ways someone can present outwardly, because the only thing that's crucial to the diagnosis is the internal experience - how it affects the person who has it. How they appear outwardly to others can vary wildly.

(I'll admit, some of these "stereotypical NPD" characters feel very relatable due to shared symptoms and vibes and power fantasies. To the extent that I have one of them as my pfp on some accounts lol. But if you met me IRL, my vibes are just "confident and bubbly, polite, quiet and distant, fashion-oriented, straight A student, cutesy, braggy, adventurous", and I always make the effort to be kind to people even though I can be somewhat distant and goal-oriented.)

It's also common to think of someone "flying into a rage" when they feel criticized - but anger (whether external or internal) isn't an inherent part of it. The issue is that someone perceives criticism as a threat, so their fight/flight/freeze/fawn response kicks in, and there's a large multitude of ways that can show up.

(Personally, I go into either fight or fawn mode. But the vast majority of the anger I've felt has been entirely self-directed, manifesting in the form of self-criticism, self-hatred, self-destruction, overworking, eating disorders, etc. I will occasionally feel outwards anger, but when I do, I give myself time and space to process it by myself so that I don't upset anyone. And even for those who feel external anger much more often than I do, it doesn't mean they'll express it in an aggressive or harmful way.)

tldr; I'd love to see a variety of outwards presentations, with the NPD being shown via their internal experience, rather than only displayed through stereotypical external behaviors.

2. Humanization for characters with NPD who make mistakes

People with NPD are human just like everyone else, which means that mistakes happen. Everyone accidentally fucks up, hurts someone, lacks self-awareness in certain areas, etc.

The level and type of interpersonal struggles, and the reasons behind these struggles, are all across the board. That's understood with any other disorder (or any sort of identity), but there's so much extra baggage and stigma applied when NPD is involved for some reason.

So for characters with NPD with higher interpersonal conflict, I'd want them to be humanized in the same way that anyone else with any other identity would be humanized. And I'd also want it shown that characters who don't have NPD can have high interpersonal conflict as well, that it's not limited to this disorder.

"what sort of aspects of npd would be comforting for you to see reflected in a story?"

In terms of specific aspects-

Personally, I'd love to see a character who like... tries to be perfect. Is externally very put-together in some way - maybe they're very kind and soft-spoken and sweet, or they're silly and happy and energetic, or they're quiet and serious and protective, or calm and mysterious and self-assured, doesn't matter. But everything seems okay on the surface.

But internally, they put so much pressure on themself. They hold themself to impossible standards, and feel like they HAVE to be seen a certain way and never show weakness. They have to handle everything perfectly. Just... so many symptoms and struggles that are hurting them internally, and overtime it ends up bubbling out in small ways, or like. Tbh I'd love it if someone would just... notice.

Notice the perfect bubbly happy straight-A student who's always kind and never shares their own opinions. Notice the quiet, highly-skilled protector of the group who somehow always knows the right thing to say and the right way to act.

And give them permission to be imperfect. To be human. Show them that they aren't their reputation or their skills or how impressive they are, they're so much more than that.

They can see the pain they're in, and instead of treating them as this untouchable perfect being, they treat them in a human way.

The super bubbly character seems completely unaffected by recent tragedy? Okay. Their friend doesn't ignore that. They don't push and prod, but they don't ignore it. They sit with them, spend time with them, hold them, they know it affected them.

I'm imagining a scene where the character w/NPD fucks up somehow, and they seem fine, but someone close to them suddenly Realizes and they just. Go to find them. And they're just having a massive breakdown, but the moment they see their friend, they quickly try and shove everything under the surface and act cool and unaffected and "normal", but their friend goes over and just holds them and. Ungh. 10/10

Couple months ago I did actually see an episode of a show like that, and both times I watched it, I bawled my fuckin eyes out lol.

Different people may have different answers in terms of what they'd feel most comforted by, but for me personally, I'd love this so much, because this is how I present and I desperately want to be Seen and Loved and have someone see my self-worth as being inherent and not tied into how "perfect" I am.

Closing thoughts:

Personally, there's not much that I'd feel offended by. To be honest, in addition to characters who fit the above points (various presentations, average-level interpersonal conflict, etc.), I also write characters who have that "stereotypical" presentation. I don't think there's anything wrong with it as long as it's not done maliciously, especially if there's other types of characters shown. (Similar to having both gay villains and gay protagonists or side characters, y'know)

The only thing I'd dislike / that would hurt my feelings is like... seeing a character be heavily demonized for their traits*, or the only characters with NPD being horribly abusive, or the usage of stigmatizing language (aka, if the character is spoken about the way buzzfeed articles speak about us).

*aka, demonized for the symptoms. Totally fine if someone does something shitty and it's pointed out as being shitty / if people dislike them for that lol.

Hopefully this isn't getting too long, but to give an example of what I mean, something I saw that did hurt my feelings was like-

There was an episode of a show where a character got super braggy and confident, and was relishing in the praise and admiration she was getting. Hinging her self-worth on that recognition and success. And her friends got annoyed and pissed off, simply because she was braggy. There were a couple of things here and there she did that were kind of insensitive, but that was never really pointed out or seen as the main issue, it was only her bragging that was being demonized for some reason.

And then her friends all ganged up behind her back and did something to intentionally trigger a crash and make her feel insecure and terrible about herself, all to "knock her down a peg". And the narrative framed that as being justified, framed her friends as being correct in this situation. They never once showed concern for her mental health or the fact that she was hinging her self-worth on other people's opinions of her, they tore her down for her bragging instead of either a) supporting and uplifting her, or b) showing concern for unhealthy mindsets, and they never even tried to approach her or communicate with her about the things she was doing that actually were insensitive.

Hopefully that wasn't too much of a tangent lol, but that's the type of thing I mean by "being demonized for their traits". Hate when all a character is doing is bragging and feeling good about themself and the narrative frames them in an extremely negative light for it :(

Okay I will wrap up the post here as it's already pretty long, but hopefully this helped a bit!! Thank you for the question, and good luck with your writing! ^^

#actuallynpd #writing #npd representation

122 notes · View notes

goodluckclove · 18 days ago

Text

Writing Third-Person Subjective POV (A Guide?)

So earlier I asked if anyone wanted me to attempt to give writing advice on anything else. Shortly after that, my editor @xarrixii asked me to provide some insight into what I'll tentatively call third-person subjective POV, which is essentially just third-person limited but with the internal characterization of the narrator baked into the prose itself. They used an example from chapter one of my book Blind Trust, which I'll show below.

I don't really see why Arri suggested this particular passage, so I'll compare it to a bit from the sequel Migration Patterns that I think might showcase the style better.

So this was a strange request to get. Mainly because it never occurred to me that this narrative style would be something anyone would want advice on how to do. It kind of goes against what a lot of other people - online, at least - say about 1st vs 3rd-person POV. I've heard people say it's sacrilegious to have a lack of objectivity in third-person narration. Which is fine. I get that's the thing for some writers.

I'm also certain I didn't invent combining the goals of both POVs like this. I am absolutely a product of all the writers I've ever loved. I will say I've been doing this particular style since I started writing at 12, so when I saw Arri's request my second thought was shit man I genuinely don't know how to explain how I do this or how someone else could do this.

Uh, but I'll try? I'll try.

(No one is allowed to point out the typos in the excerpts below. It's a first draft and I've now analyzed my own work enough that I simply must put away the manuscript for a while)

What draws me about third-person subjective is that it has the personality and character of first-person, but with an added sense of dissociated detachment that I enjoy and relate to. I enjoy the way multiple people can be in the exact same place at the exact same time and take in their environment in entirely different ways.

I'm in a cafe right now, late afternoon. It's a little warm. Sunlight through the windows. Wooden chairs, wooden tables. It's mostly empty. There is a mural on the wall of what I imagine to be an Italian shore side.

This is an objective description of my surroundings, but what I enjoy doing is seeing how they change depending on who's experiencing them. If I were wearing different clothes it would probably be too hot, and mixed with the hard chairs and the height of the table I might end up fidgeting a lot - perhaps creating some slight sense of anxiety. The mural might provoke an unpleasant or wistful memory in me. Maybe I got drunk the night before, so drunk that I'm no hungover to the point where the unobtrusive light and conversation the next table over are unbearable to me.

Maybe everything is fine in the cafe, and it's a beautiful blue day, and the barista gave me a second free cappuccino because the first one she made didn't have the white chocolate syrup I suggested. But all of it feels vacant and lifeless because, just the night before, my wife was sacrificed to the Outer God Nyarlathotep. There are plenty of circumstances, external and internal, that might change the way a character perceives the settings they're in and the people they interact with.

And I just personally think it's fun when the narrator at the time clearly isn't addressing that their inherent bias plays a role into this. It's literally baked into their perception of reality, so much so that the prose doesn't treat it as an exclusive thought. it's just how they see the world. They either don't realize it, or they know and either accept it or decide not to think about it too hard.

I can use Songbird Elegies as an example. I truly don't like when writers use their own work as examples while giving advice, but since it's in the context of something I specifically do, I'll give myself a pass. Uh, in Blind Trust, the central POVs are Edgar, Scott, Katy, and Tenzin. I refine this a little more in Migration Patterns, with each chapter showcasing an Edgar and Scott POV pairing or a Katy and Tenzin POV pairing. I'll occasionally throw in a moment where the reader can follow Regina (Scott's mom) or Ollie, mainly in a particular sequence where I think breaking the existing rhythm creates a striking effect.

It's definitely possible another reason why I do this is because I don't feel super confident in the distinction between characters in terms of dialogue. I'm sure it's there. I've at least been told it's there. But I think the separation in terms of narrative style is far stronger.

So far Edgar Gallows (POV in the first excerpt) tends to perceive things a little more poetically. A lot of the way they see the world is sort of - grumpy brooding? Like angsty, but not in a sexy way? There's definitely an undercurrent of a severe anxiety disorder. They will also get really into describing food.

The second excerpt is following Ollie Goose Bergeron, the Head Distiller of Bluerose. It's the only part in the series so far that is directly from her POV. I think what I posted is a decent example of how her brain works - at least while she's in Professional Adult mode. She's got a sharp, focused eye and picks up on details quickly. In a crisis situation (Which is what her excerpt absolutely is) she jumps in to take action while still keeping a fairly cool head.

Someone like Katy Delaney is kind of a cross between these two previous mindsets, as maybe seen below.

So Katy's a career server, and she also has an eye for detail - though for entirely different purposes (Mainly to scope which patrons will tip well and which would start shit). She's also kind of snarky by nature, and on this particular day she's in an extra kind of shitty mood.

Writing Tenzin Onyliogwu in third-person subjective is definitely when things start to get a little more complicated. She's very much the most objective narrator - she tries to be, at least. There are moments of poetry, mainly in the many moments in Migration Patterns where she struggles with no longer living in the past and actually interacting with people and moving forward in life. This is incredibly difficult as, unless you're someone she has an established relationship with, she is just terrible at reading body cues and usually has no goddamned clue what to do in certain social settings. As seen below.

Uh. What else? Scott Skylark Kaufman curses more. He swears the most because he decided as a kid that it's a great way to express strong emotions. He also is occasionally very confident about things that are either arbitrary or straight-up incorrect. In Migration Patterns he definitely has the most abstract relationship with the narrative, but I. I don't really know how to get into that.

So I don't really know what else to say. At this point I've analyzed my own writing to the point where I have now started to think that all of my intentions might not actually be expressed on the page at all. But I imagine someone has to think otherwise, otherwise the person on Tumblr who has read Blind Trust twice wouldn't think to bring up how that's a thing I know how to do.

In short? The way I see it, in a multi-POV story, it's cool to express that different narrative characters notice different things. They have a background that effects what they interpret day-to-day events to a degree so profound it might go entirely undressed. This can be depicted through detail choice, word choice, and even sentence structure. They can know they do this or they can not know. Doing this creates a lot of opportunities for contrast as their reality is implied to be different from how they perceive it. It's also a cool way to show the silent growth of a character. It's wacky and free and not usually a crime.

#writeblr #on writing #writing advice #it was fun to analyze myself #but i'm also not entirely certain that's something anyone would actually want?#so uh yeah sorry if not

13 notes · View notes

jellyluchi · 5 months ago

Text

Happy Anniversary dearly beloved! it's that time of the year where I ramble about my feelings and pour sentimentality out of myself like a leaking faucet so I will be putting that under the tag I want to be vulnerable so please don't be judgmental.

I have been waiting with mute anticipation every year just for this day every year to make it sort of a tradition for myself (and Prosciutto!) to enjoy and take some time to appreciate all the time spent together over the years, especially how things have changed or stayed the same from all those years ago

Prosciutto came to me right before a really difficult time I hadn't realized I was struggling so much until after I already decided to selfship with him. And boy, am I happy for that decision... This day really did change my life! I should have known when I'd spotted him that it would happen but seriously I could not expect all this from myself.

And so much more that I didn't expect from myself happened and he was by my side through all of it. If I told the me from 4 years ago that I would be getting into art because of this man I wouldn't have believed it. I distinctly remember a time when I was so heavily in denial of my selfship out of deep, deep shame that I could not accept I could be the type of person to own a lot of merchandise especially things like body pillows of a character. I didn't believe it because I felt too vulnerable and less than when thinking of showing my love like that.

But I'm so happy that that's changed and turned a complete 180. I will happily and proudly own a Prosciutto dakimakura one day! I used to believe I would never be able to draw even if it was my passion since I was a child. I genuinely believed it would not happen in my lifetime. The only push I really needed was Prosciutto as my muse. So this piece if especially personal to me since I am so happy to be able to draw something just for our anniversary.

So much of Prosciutto's character is about keeping those he trusts the closest to his heart and pushing them to be better, supporting them to be their best version. He would not allow me to be ashamed of myself. And it only serves as more motivation to think of having someone like him by my side.

It caused me to make a character so personal to me I could change my perception of myself through her. I wanted him to love someone who looked like me, acted like me because I wanted to see someone like Focaccia being happy, achieving her dreams and her dream life. So many of the things he does with Focaccia ends up being my aspirations and hopes, some he symbolizes for him.

There was a time when I used to be irrationally upset and insecure about our perceived age gap. But over time I became so much more comfortable I like leaning into it, and given Prosciutto's powers I love the thought of him aging with me, keeping our age gap and essentially growing old together.

This is really funny but I like to remember this day from 4 years ago very fondly. I'd just read a fanfic that changed my brain chemistry so bad I could not focus on even showering and I used body wash as shampoo clumsily falling over myself just thinking about a life with this man. It became a core memory.

And after that one day, every single choice I've made has not only brought us closer but has brought me so many new people and friends into my life. My perspective changed, my though process changed. I owe him my early to late twenties. And hopefully more ♡

#prosciutto #focaccia #profoca #art #selfship stuff #selfship art #prosciutto x oc #jjba x oc #yumeship #yumeshipping #yumeship community

21 notes · View notes

finalset · 3 months ago

Text

idk if I really have the language to put it all together and it’s a very nuanced subject, but this is smth that’s been bothering me and this is just from my pov: I feel like lately, among trans people (majorly online) being trans has been more positioned as like a tangible ‘aesthetic/look’ even like a scene, as if it’s punk or something?? I see so many posts across different social medias that are always like ‘woo trans guys take of ur binders. boy pussy is better’ etc (I am only using transmasc examples since I am transmasc myself) and it’s like idk if people think it’s different to say it as a trans person but to me it just feels equally as fetishizing as when cis people say it, it sounds like porn titles and like we are just only seeing ourselves as the derogatory caricatures of trans people that cis people have always seen us as ‘but make it sexy cuz I’m saying it 🏳️‍⚧️’ type of thing. and I’m purely talking about the Language in which I’ve seen more queer people online speak about trans people. I’m not critiquing at ALL what you look like, dress like, whether you ‘pass’ or not, whether you have gotten any surgeries/are doing HRT etc. that is NOT what this post is about. again I’m bothered by the way trans people are Spoken about, especially among trans people lately. I feel like we r just praising ourselves on how uniquely ‘fuckable, sexy, hot, different’ we are SOLEY bc we are trans and the implications of what a trans person ‘looks like’. which is very reductive of the entire value our existence imo. And I don’t believe we have to tone down our sexuality in any way so that ‘cis people can respect us’ or anything like that, if someone is transphobic there is nothing a trans person could do to change their mind, that type of hatred is something only the transphobe can fix on their own from within, that burden isn’t ours. My biggest concern honestly is just that I feel like we are veering too into fetishizing ourselves/our bodies without realizing it, basing the value of trans people on how sexually deviant and desirable we ‘inherently’ must be. I know on an individual level your body plays an important role in your identity, but there are many ways trans people look, I think assigning your own physical traits to a very diverse identity (trans/cis) is tricky, almost pointless, the truth is there is no one way a trans or cis person looks. Yes there are perceptions on what trans and cis people ’look like’ but that’s just what it is, a perception, not the truth. I think it’s important for oneself to untie what we are perceived as from who we know we truly are (and that even amongst other trans people we are very different from each other) in order to have a strong sense of self and to understand and maintain your value and self worth as we inevitably change over time.

#I have more thoughts ab how this also effects partnerships etc but this got very long already #text #idk hopefully that made sense though #open to others thoughts nd opinions as well

13 notes · View notes

marta-bee · 4 months ago

Text

youtube

I want to dig into this later in more depth; I'm still processing all the Appalachia destruction and suffering in a big way, and also my brain is still very much recovering from COVID. Plus it's late and life wasn't exactly boring before this last week. But for now:

1) "Your oppression will not save you." Those are words to think about a lot. I think coming from a different perspective they would have raised my hackles, too reminiscent of what was said to me after some people close to me completed suicide. But coming from a member of the oppressed they seem to have a lot of wisdom in them. This definitely makes me want to read them in the context of how Coates says them in the bigger book.

2) Seeing a black man comment on the situation in Israel, Palestine, and the wider region.... how fascinating. I'm thinking here of the Civil Rights movement and how white (or at least white-perceived) Jews were marching with MLK, but then over the decades because of class issues, they so often became experienced as the landlord or the boss rather than the ally. At least that's my perception coming out of my years living in Harlem and the South Bronx as a white person. So it's fascinating to see that dynamic (perceived-dynamic, whatever it is) flipped a bit and Coates given the stage to comment on the situation in Palestine.

3) I'm going to dig into the Christian side of my upbringing here, specifically little-b baptist. (Like, free church, equality, peace-enabling, etc. more than cultural evangelical/Southern Baptist.) But I found myself wondering how much of a healthy response to trauma and oppression starts with forgiveness. Not in the sense of pretending like what was done to you is okay, but in surrendering your right to vengeance and to cut them out of your life and walk away rather than letting your oppressors define you. Maybe that's only possible for me (to the extent it is possible; it's still a struggle and a work-in-progress) because what I'd call my personal trauma is directed to me as an individual. Not coming from generations of racism and other varieties of hatred, and based on me individually more than my race or whatnot. If I was coming at this from the perspective of centuries of chattel slavery or anti-semitic violence, it might be more difficult.

Which is the most I can say not having actually read Coates's book, and with my brain feeling more than a bit dazed with all the other stuff. But boy, what an interesting thought-provoking exchange. It definitely earned The Message a spot on my TBR list, which is really the big point (or at least the first one) of conversations like these.

#ta-nehisi coates #racism #jon stewart #history #philosophy #it looks like covid loopiness taps into my adhd tendencies #wherein you get parentheticals as bonus thought with each primary thought #enjoy!#also bilbo keeps reaching out to grab my wrist #she clearly thinks there's been enough typing and it is now cuddle time #and i am too loopy and tired to argue back #c'est la vie #or perhaps: k'ay la tee (kitty)#Youtube

10 notes · View notes

akolnoix · 8 months ago

Note

I've been following for a bit and I was wondering about your p4 au(?)/rewrite that you have going on honestly seeing you p4 posting has been making me think about it a lot more recently. Also you have a lovely art style!

thank you! it's honestly nothing very concrete, just an assortment of musings that i play around with in my mind for fun... might as well post some of my ramblings (apologies that it's long and a mess)

-im kinda obsessed with trying to make accomplice ending work? the ending itself in p4g is pretty great (seeing the "yu has forged a bond that cannot be broken" text you get for max social link is sooooo good) and fits thematically, it's just that it has like NO proper buildup to it to make it feel even remotely plausible.

so i'm thinking you'd have to really go out of your way to get it. like in addition to maxing out adachi's SL, you can't advance any other characters' SL past like rank 3 or something early on, and you have to select certain dialogue options (like the original game has so many mean/detached responses you can pick to be a dickhead lol), you have to refuse optional hangouts with your friends. and Then you have to choose to not reveal him. so through consistently refusing to truly connect with/care about the people around you, the protag can somewhat reach a similar worldview to adachi, and conceivably relate to him.

-izanami brings up the tv world also being a product of outside perception, but the actual implementation of it in the game feels messy and often like it's just there as a way to give reason for the shadows desiring transgressive things for shock value without committing to them being real aspects of the characters (like, how kanji's shadow is extremely stereotypically gay not just in mannerisms but in overtly showing interest in men, but in kanji's acceptance+future appearances they make sure to assert that the real kanji is not actually gay)

so i've been kinda toying with the idea that instead of the shadows as presented in p4, there would be like multiple fractured shadows in conflict? like i think it would be neat to play more off the tension between how the characters are perceived by the town vs their repressed selves, idk

-i've been turning naoto's arc around in my head a lot over the years... like the easiest thing to do would be transplant the existing (attempted) narrative to a trans woman naoto. but i also want to do right by canon naoto, who sees himself as a man, desires to be one, only gives up on that because he believes he can't become one, and gets treated like dogshit by the narrative for it. so lately i've drifted to the harder challenge of working out the logistics to make a satisfying+believable arc for trans man naoto. i've got concepts but i don't have enough worked out in this regard yet to talk about here.

-im autistic and rise has always read as such to me, so i'm being self-indulgent and making that an overt aspect of her arc. i grew up subconsciously masking my autism, and it wasn't until i experienced autistic burnout just after graduating highschool that i discovered just how much of myself i had been suppressing, and how much was constructed. it was like i had never known my true self until age 18, or noticed just how badly that repression hurt me.

so um. you might say i saw a lot of myself in rise. she's got a slightly different scenario, but still a pretty autistic one. a child with no friends because everyone thinks they're strange, who decides to learn how to be Normal in hopes of obtaining any human connection. but because she can't be herself, the connections she does make don't feel genuine. her becoming an idol specifically is really fantastic thematically, a career all about commodifying not just your body or talents but your very personality, for a girl highly manufactured on every level to appear Normal.

for the brief period you see her in person before her shadow, rise practically has a flat affect and monotone, with everyone commenting on how different she is from her idol persona, and i'd like to actually retain that as an aspect of her character. i'd like to shift her arc to being about relearning that aspect of herself, and allowing herself to be that. even if just among friends. her idol persona is still part of her (she made it after all, and it can be useful), but she was harming herself by thinking it was all she should be.

i've always hated her going back to being an idol (especially the way they executed it ugh) but it might be nice if she stuck with music...

-yosuke internalized homophobia arc is a gimme

-naturally a major aspect is in the differences btw a playthrough as yu narukami vs femc. as an ex-delinquent she experiences more hostility from the general populace and dojima. oh and i don't care for super self-inserty protags so yu and masami have more established personalities+history+etc.

i imagine the narukami sibling dichotomy is that yu tries to be perfect and masami intentionally disappoints (opposite attention-seeking responses to their ambiguously distant parents), and in their trip to inaba yu takes the opportunity to let loose, while masami reigns in the delinquent behavior (because dojima will actually react to what she does). and they both benefit from the power of friendship etc etc

-sometimes i enjoy daydreaming about a "cross-dressing" sequence that's actually fun. where the crew hang out in yu's room or something and try on each other's stuff for fun. and chie gets a buzz cut

-while it's very true that women can be bigots, that p4 claims that kanji would think that men are more accepting of gender nonconformity in men than women is something just. utterly detached from reality. it makes more sense that he thought there was no possibility of acceptance from boys so he never tried, but he thought there was a chance with girls but was rejected by them too, so he distances himself from everyone.

and i think kanji can be gnc AND gay. for many people there is a real fear of stereotype, of reinforcing them, but that repulsion is misplaced. stereotypes are bad when they are used to dehumanize, but to be a effeminate gay man, a fat butch lesbian, a trans woman with a beard, are not bad things to be. and i think it'd suit kanji to have that sort of conflict, and metatextually to take those aspects of canon that were so negatively presented and transform them

and i think it would suit his love of cute things to eventually start dressing cutesy.

-i've definitely got more in my brain i could say or i forgor but this post is long enough

#ask #blaughgh idk if any of this makes sense or is good but im sick of typing so im pressing post #just realized i didn't cover yukiko and chie at all. well that's okay im still figuring out the direction to take them.#other than them being obviously blatantly gay. (i've been watching the p4 anime and my goddd yukiko's dungeon...)#and butch chie. butch chie 4evr #ANYWAYS #persona 4

8 notes · View notes

madfantasy · 1 year ago

Text

Dears;

Sleepless

I didn't know that I could be more sleep deprived, more in the sense that the nightmares of death and murder wakes me up in fever and chest burn now.

I thought I was okay and I was just witnessing and grieving over everything happening in this world, I can't much speak on it but with my siblings, my guardians ofc know and part of our family even affected by the "wars" that raged in and around 🍉, I still feel just as suffocated, useless, helpless and isolated as I feel everyday if not more. The internet remains my only window to the world..

The only thing I could able to talk to my guardians about is that telling them I feel immense guilt, my other half, my other home is being wiped out, land stripped of human warmth, from recent and ancient memories, all the structures old and new, the nature that hugged it tightly and the music that floated from it's midst. And here I am carrying nothing but a blood connection and writing in immaculate Arabic, one thing I was consistently praised on and ment alot to me in terms of belonging, but literally can't understand the casual/slang part of it no matter how I think I get it. Which I understand finally is what called: a late diagnosis of autism, possible related to those specific speaking patterns.

I'm 80% nonverbal, and when I find my voice, specifically when it comes to expressing myself, everything I say sounds like riddles or poems instead of plain direct speech with clear indication and values. I take so long revising these little writings to make sure at least they are coherent. It's often frustrating as suddenly not being able to scream when u need..

In the same time, I can't deal with being perceived, I can not even interact with what I've shared on my TT or @madmanii because my brain just shuts down, it doesn't matter what's the situation, as long there's social interactions, my rational blanks and stops translating sense to me.. it might be so good I can't even say how much intensely I love it, same as bad.. Even through art, and I thought because it is in art form, something I feel more able expressing, I can't say more or do more or give more engagement than this. While engagement with my art shocks me each time as if It was the first time. It takes all my remaining soul to make this art, this last tether to my sanity and humanity, so I have unmeasured gratitude..

The only release to this raging sense of belonging and grief I had all my life is to make stories, OCs. Those two are just fantasy-ed version of the 2 homes I'm from. But never shared more drawings of them because I did not want to be identified and get any "anything-against-mainstream" phobia towards me as I've been punished for it severely lots in real life. They are even not a romantic pair, just bromancing and 'too' beautiful, and I still drew many other romantic ships and posts them, regardless..

But I worry too much and often my art, posts or whatever is never seen..

Whatever it's the algorithm or doing communication, I can't not do more of what is socially 'required' to be seen and heard, my art is all I can offer and as it always shows me it's never enough, I tried so hard that my art for the first time in my life became just another burden and chore instead of a sanctuary and brain food. Whatever I did, I don't have a presence online, I only have the few Snape fans who truly care about me and showed me humanity I've never known. But I still don't have numbers or popularity, and at this point I'm so burn out from trying that I don't care I'm losing followers or have no likes, it's silence on both ends now...

I wish I could achieve more and be more helpful and not worry about fearing anything, my existence here online is done by secret to begin with and not consistent cuz I have trash net, and I don't know how to do more.. even for myself..

It's my birthday month, and that's ticks down one year of six..

About perception I relate to Hard: https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNQeJy8u/

Thank u for reading, Sweet dreams, precious 🖤❤️

#text #drawing journey #vent

21 notes · View notes

realsfriend · 10 months ago

Text

unintelligible rant No. 1

I can't have normal relationships...I can't change the way my mind reacts to things. My roommate/best friend - who has never called me their best friend though I don't know what else I'd be to them - is completely exhausted by my moods, but no matter how hard I try not to, I continue to need constant reassurance. The problem is that no matter how much reassurance they try to give me, it is ineffective. I just convince myself they're lying. When I feel an episode coming on and turn sullen, I can feel their dread setting in, parallel with my mood. They bear the brunt of my moods, and it's not fair. I want more friends, but I'm desperate for the two of us to be all we need. And my wanting more friends is selfish, in the end, because I want them so that I have more people to turn to when I'm in an episode. I don't want more friends for the reciprocal nature of friendship, I just want them so that I can give my roommate a break, so that they don't hate me, so that they don't abandon me. But I feel so broken, and I can't concisely state why. My perceptions are so skewed, but maybe they're not. In a recent social situation I felt like I was one step behind, I felt like I didn't fit. I've always felt that way, in any given situation. I don't fit, and I'm not good enough. Lately, and in the past, those feelings have caused harm to those around me. Not only am I not good enough, I'm not enough at all. I always change the characteristics of my personality according to who I'm with. I don't know who my authentic self is. I feel like other people can cope effectively with feelings like these, but as soon as they set in for me, I am triggered beyond belief and it takes days to get over it. And, usually, I truly have no idea what is real and what is the fabrication of my disease. Why should it be such a big deal what other people think of me? It's like, I'm supposed to have this intrinsic sense of worth, but I can't wrap my mind around why the hell I should have that outside of how other people perceive me. If literally everyone hates you, and thinks you're a piece of shit, how can you still assume you're worth anything? Intrinsic self-worth...fuck it. It makes no sense. I am convinced that I'm the worst person in the universe. Out of everything that is conscious and sentient, I am the worst. I used to pin all this on my body, I used to think it was my body that made me unappealing, undesirable, unattractive, repellent. Now my body image has improved a bit, but big deal. I'm still awful and everything around me is pure wreckage. My best friend can't even talk to me. They want nothing to do with me. This morning, there's no way they didn't realize I was awake, but they walked right past my door anyway. Everyone hates me. I have always wished and pined for this person who would be able to handle me, who'd love me unconditionally with all my flaws and ways I make everything difficult, but honestly no such person exists. There is no reason why anyone should put themselves through a relationship with me. Everyone realizes at some point it's just not worth it to be involved with me. I reel them in at the beginning because I can make myself funny and soulful and effervescent all at once, and then they get to see who I really am and they're backed into a corner because they still somehow care about me and they know that severing the relationship would completely shatter me...they don't know what I'll do, they're afraid I'll kill myself, but even so, eventually being around me is too painful and they leave, and I AM shattered. In this way, I'm just the same as an abuser. I love-bomb at the beginning, and then something in me turns and the people in my life see me for real, and they want to get out but they can't get out. It's my insecurity, which is so big I can't even fucking comprehend the size of it. Insecurity, trauma, fear of abandonment, etc. I'm so exhausted, and in pain, and my pain turns my entire body into this one throbbing flesh wound that screams for attention and love. I just want to be loved, and I want to believe I'm loved.

#actually borderline #bpd thoughts #bpd vent #borderline personality disorder #actuallybpd #borderline #bpd #actually bpd

19 notes · View notes

everyones-fangirl · 8 months ago

Text

Delectable Little Pet

Warnings: 18+ This will be about after ascension Astarion so expect some extreme dark romance and future triggers. Stalking. Being super forward/not taking no for an answer. Murder.

Word Count: 5,601

Chapter 6

Cassara

The night that monster turned my whole world upside down had been fortnights ago by now, and my confusion only grew by the day. My feelings bounced between longing and anger, creating a tempest within me that I couldn't control. I didn't dare tell anyone what had happened, fearing they would think me crazy. How could I explain the way my body had betrayed me? How I had wanted it? I shook my head as if that would rid me of the confusing thoughts, the familiar burning deep in my belly.

At first, I didn't dare touch myself, haunted by his last threat while he tortured me with his surprisingly skilled fingers. But when I hadn't felt his presence in a while, I lost myself. I probably didn't leave my bed all morning, consumed by thoughts of him. I could practically still feel his hands on me, his voice whispering dark promises in my ear. Once I came undone with his words echoing in my head, I started back up again. And again. And again.

Guilt weighed heavy on my chest, a constant reminder of my perceived weakness. But the flutter in my stomach had me itching to return to my chambers. The memory of his touch lingered, an uninvited guest in my thoughts. I hated him for what he did to me, but I couldn't deny the fire he had ignited within me. Every night, as I lay in bed, I fought a losing battle against the desire he had awoken. My fingers would drift over my body, mimicking the path his had taken, and I would lose myself in the sensations. The anger and shame would resurface in the aftermath, but in those moments of pleasure, they were forgotten. I knew I had to find a way to rid myself of his hold, but the more I tried, the stronger it seemed to become. The conflict within me was a constant torment, and the only relief I found was in the dark, secret pleasure I took from those memories. The flutter in my stomach, the ache between my legs, they were both a curse and a solace.

As I made my way through the day, guilt and desire warring within me, I knew that eventually, I would have to face him again. The thought gnawed at me, an ever-present shadow lurking in the corners of my mind. I didn't know when that encounter would come, and I doubted that any amount of time would be enough to prepare myself. All sane thoughts seemed to disappear as soon as his hands were on me. I couldn't be trusted to handle myself around him. The people around me seemed to have sensed the switch within me, especially Caty. She had always been perceptive, and lately, I hardly ever saw her because my solution to my dwindling mental health and self-control was to work so much I didn’t have time for anything else. It was a temporary fix, a way to keep my mind occupied and away from the dark corners where thoughts of him lurked.

But tonight, things were different. A very popular festival was scheduled to be held in the heart of the lower city, and I was being forced to go. My job was on the line, and Caty had managed to talk everyone into teaming up to make sure I took a break. I argued, but they only used that against me, saying, "Any sane person would jump at a night off." I guess they were right, but as I mentioned before, I’m not as sane as I once thought. As I stood from my bed, I caught my reflection in the floor-length mirror across the room. My knee-high boots were laced up tightly, their dark leather gleaming faintly in the dim light. They hugged my legs snugly, the fit perfect and comfortable despite their imposing appearance. My usual flowy blouse billowed slightly with each movement, the soft fabric caressing my skin. It was a deep, rich blue, reminiscent of a twilight sky, and it contrasted sharply with the black leather corset that cinched my waist, accentuating my curves. The corset was intricate, with delicate stitching that added a touch of elegance to its otherwise sturdy design. The black leather was supple, molded to my form, and the silver buckles gleamed as they caught the light. It was both practical and stylish, offering support while enhancing my silhouette.

Tonight, I had traded my usual pants for a skirt. It was a bold choice, but one I felt was necessary to combat the summer heat. The skirt was made of a lightweight material that swayed with every step I took. It was black, like my corset, with slits up to my thighs that allowed for ease of movement and a hint of daring. The fabric was soft, almost silky, and it whispered against my skin as I walked. My hair was another story. I had pulled it back into a loose bun, but several dark strands had escaped, framing my face in soft waves. It gave me a slightly wild, untamed look that I didn’t entirely mind. My eyes, usually a calm gray hint, seemed to shimmer with a mix of anxiety and excitement, reflecting the turmoil within me. My cheeks were flushed, not from the heat, but from the anticipation of the night ahead.

I reached up and adjusted the leather band that held my hair back, making sure it was secure. My fingers brushed against the soft tendrils that had escaped, and I sighed, knowing they would only continue to rebel. Around my neck, I wore the simple silver chain with a small pendant from my mother. It was a delicate piece, understated but meaningful, and I found myself absentmindedly touching it for comfort. My skin was a light olive tone, slightly sun-kissed from my time spent outdoors the past few weeks, and it contrasted beautifully with the deep blue of my blouse and the black of my skirt and corset. I wore minimal makeup, just enough to highlight my features without being overpowering. A touch of kohl around my eyes made them stand out, and a hint of color on my lips gave me a fresh, natural look.

As I took one last glance in the mirror, I felt a mix of confidence and apprehension. Despite my fears and the confusion that plagued me, there was a small part of me that longed for the thrill, the danger he represented. It was a sick, twisted desire that I couldn't fully understand or control. I took a deep breath and turned away from the mirror, trying to shake off the conflicting emotions. Tonight was supposed to be about letting go, about enjoying a rare moment of respite from my self-imposed isolation. I couldn't let thoughts of him ruin it. I owed it to myself to try and find some semblance of normalcy, even if it was just for one night.

The streets were already bustling with activity as I made my way to the festival. The festival was a dazzling spectacle, transforming the usually gritty streets of the lower city into a vibrant tapestry of color and light. Lanterns of every hue hung overhead, swaying gently in the evening breeze, their warm glow casting a magical ambiance over the cobblestone paths. Strings of twinkling lights crisscrossed above, creating a canopy of stars that seemed to dance to the rhythm of the music that filled the air.

Stalls lined the streets, each one offering a variety of goods and treats. The aromas were intoxicating—a mix of roasted meats, sweet pastries, and exotic spices that made my mouth water. Vendors called out to passersby, their voices blending into a harmonious cacophony that was both overwhelming and exhilarating. Children ran between the stalls, their laughter ringing out as they chased each other and played games, their faces painted with bright colors and wide smiles. Performers dotted the festival grounds, each corner revealing a new act. There were jugglers tossing flaming torches into the air with deft precision, acrobats twisting and turning in impossible shapes, and musicians playing lively tunes on fiddles and drums. A group of dancers twirled in the center of a clearing, their movements synchronized and graceful, the swirls of their brightly colored skirts creating a mesmerizing display.

Caty and I navigated through the throng of people, occasionally stopping to admire a particularly impressive performance or to sample a tempting treat. The energy was infectious, and for a while, I managed to push aside the dark thoughts that usually plagued me. We paused at a stall selling hand-crafted jewelry, the intricate designs catching the light and sparkling brilliantly. Caty picked up a delicate bracelet, her eyes shining with delight as she tried it on. "Isn't it beautiful?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine excitement.

I nodded, smiling at her. "It is. You should get it."

She grinned and handed over a few coins to the vendor, who wrapped the bracelet carefully before handing it back to her. As we continued to wander, I felt a small measure of peace settle over me. Maybe, just maybe, I could enjoy this night without the constant fear and longing that had been my constant companions. But deep down, I knew that the respite was temporary. The shadow of his presence loomed large, a dark promise of things to come. And as much as I tried to deny it, a part of me couldn't wait to face him again. We continued our journey, the festival revealing new wonders with each step. There was a fortune teller's tent, draped in rich fabrics and emitting a mysterious, inviting aura. A puppet show nearby had gathered a small crowd of children, their eyes wide with wonder as the puppets danced and acted out a whimsical tale. We reached a central square where a large stage had been set up. The music here was louder, more intense, and a group of musicians was performing an upbeat tune that had people dancing and clapping along. The square was packed, but the atmosphere was electric, the joy and excitement palpable. I couldn't help but tap my foot to the rhythm, a small smile playing on my lips as I watched the dancers. Amidst the revelry, I allowed myself to relax, to soak in the sights and sounds of the festival. The laughter, the music, the vibrant colors—it all felt like a balm to my troubled soul. Caty squeezed my hand, pulling me into the dance circle. I laughed, the sound feeling foreign and yet liberating, as we joined the crowd, moving to the lively beat. The festival was a brief escape, a fleeting moment of joy amidst the chaos of my life. For tonight, I was determined to embrace it, to let the music, the lights, and the laughter wash over me and carry me away.

The music pulsed through the air, a vibrant, rhythmic melody that seemed to reach into my very soul. I closed my eyes and let the beat take complete control, my body swaying and spinning in time with the music. I felt free, unburdened, as if the weight of my troubles had been momentarily lifted. I hadn't even realized Caty had released my hands until I found myself twirling, my skirt billowing around me in a whirl of fabric. Suddenly, large hands gripped my waist, pulling me into an even larger body. My eyes popped open in surprise. The man holding me was a wood elf like myself, but he had the build of a giant. I had to crane my neck to meet his gaze, his beautiful hazel eyes twinkling with amusement. His hands, wrapped securely around my waist, were so large that one of them could probably cover my entire face.

"Do you usually just go around grabbing people?" I teased, a bit of a bite to my tone, though a smile played at the corners of my lips.

His grin widened, revealing perfect white teeth. "Only the ones who look like they need saving from dancing alone," he shot back, his voice a deep, smooth rumble that sent a shiver down my spine.

He spun me around, and I found myself pressed firmly against his chest. The heat of his body seeped through my thin blouse, mingling with the summer night’s warmth. His hands were firm but gentle, guiding my movements with an expertise that hinted at years of practice. I couldn’t help but lean into his touch, the sensation of his strong hands on my waist stirring something deep inside me.

I arched an eyebrow, trying to maintain a semblance of control despite the flutter in my stomach. "You think I need saving, do you?"

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. "Maybe not saving," he murmured, his lips grazing my earlobe. "But I definitely think you need a partner who can keep up."

He twirled me out again, and I laughed, a genuine sound that felt strange and wonderful. As he pulled me back, his hand slid down to the small of my back, his fingers tracing circles that sent sparks of electricity through me. Our bodies moved in perfect sync, every step a dance of seduction that left me breathless and wanting more.

"You're awfully confident," I said, my voice barely audible over the music. "What makes you think I want a partner at all?"

His grin turned wicked, and he dipped me low, his face inches from mine. "Because," he whispered, his hazel eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my heart race, "I can see it in your eyes. You crave more than just the music. You crave the thrill, the excitement... the danger."

Before I could respond, he brought me back up, our faces so close that our lips nearly brushed. The air between us crackled with tension, a magnetic pull that I couldn’t resist. He held me there, his eyes searching mine, and I felt my resolve wavering.

"What's your name?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly.

"Daeron," he replied, his lips curving into a seductive smile. "And you, beautiful?"

"Cassara," I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

"Well, Cassara," he said, his voice a velvety purr that sent a thrill through me, "let's see if you can keep up."

With that, he spun me around again, his hands guiding me with an expert touch that left me breathless. As we danced, the world around us faded away, leaving only the music, the night, and the intoxicating presence of Daeron. For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to get lost in the moment, surrendering to the rhythm and the heat of his body against mine. Daeron was unlike anyone I had ever encountered. His imposing figure towered over the crowd, easily making him a head taller than most of the festival-goers. His broad shoulders and muscular build suggested a life of hard labor or perhaps battle, but his movements were surprisingly graceful for someone of his size. He had the air of someone who was comfortable in their own skin, every motion exuding confidence and ease. His skin had a sun-kissed hue, a golden tan that hinted at long days spent under the open sky. It contrasted beautifully with his dark, wavy hair, which fell to his shoulders in a slightly unruly fashion. There was a natural wildness to him, an untamed quality that drew the eye. His hazel eyes were striking, flecked with shades of green and gold, and they seemed to sparkle with a mischievous light, especially when he smiled.

Daeron's features were chiseled and handsome, with high cheekbones and a strong jawline that gave him a rugged, almost roguish look. His nose was straight and slightly aquiline, and his lips were full, often curved into a playful grin. He had a slight stubble, adding to his rugged charm and giving him an edge of masculinity that was hard to ignore. He wore a simple yet practical outfit that seemed well-suited to both work and travel. A dark, sleeveless leather vest showed off his muscular arms and provided a glimpse of the various tattoos that adorned his skin—intricate designs that seemed to tell a story of their own. His trousers were made of sturdy material, tucked into high, well-worn boots that looked like they had seen many miles. Around his waist was a broad leather belt, from which hung various pouches and a sheathed dagger, suggesting he was prepared for any situation.

Despite his formidable appearance, there was a warmth and openness in his demeanor that set me at ease. He moved with the confidence of someone who knew their place in the world, yet his eyes held a spark of curiosity and adventure. It was clear he was used to living life on his own terms, unbound by the constraints that held so many others back. As he danced with me, his hands were gentle yet firm, guiding me with an ease that made it clear he was as comfortable in this setting as he would be in any other. Daeron was a paradox, a blend of strength and grace, wildness and warmth. And as I found myself drawn into his orbit, I couldn't help but feel a sense of intrigue and excitement. Who was this man, and what stories did he carry with him? For tonight, at least, he was a part of my story, and I intended to enjoy every moment of it.

After a few more dances, we found ourselves wandering toward a grand fountain, its cascading water illuminated by the festival lights. This secluded spot offered a respite from the crowd, a more private and intimate setting. Each step away from my friends heightened my nerves, but they all seemed preoccupied with their own revelries. I took a deep breath, trying to dispel the anxious and guilty energy swirling within me. My fists clenched by my sides as I reminded myself that I did not deserve to feel this way. What I was doing, what I was experiencing, was completely normal. I was exploring my options, and there was nothing wrong with that.

"What is going on behind those pretty eyes?" Daeron's deep voice pulled me from my thoughts, and I glanced up at him.

His gaze was intense, filled with curiosity and something else I couldn't quite place. I swallowed hard, feeling the heat of his scrutiny. "Just thinking," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

He stepped closer, closing the distance between us. The scent of earth and pine clung to him, a stark contrast to the bustling festival atmosphere. "Thinking about what?" he asked, his voice a low murmur. "You seem troubled."

I forced a smile, trying to shake off the lingering tension. "It's nothing," I said, looking away. "Just... a lot on my mind."

“Then allow me to distract you.” He sat on the stone edge of the fountain, gently pulling me into his lap so I faced him. The sudden closeness made my heart race, and I could feel the warmth of his body seeping into mine. His hands rested on my hips, firm yet comforting, and the intimacy of the position sent a shiver down my spine.

"Let me help you clear your mind." His voice was a soft rumble, and before I could respond, I felt his lips on my neck. My breath hitched in surprise, the sensation sending a spark of heat through me. His kisses were gentle, teasing, as if testing my boundaries.

I tilted my head slightly, giving him better access, my eyes fluttering shut. Each press of his lips against my skin seemed to dissolve a bit of the tension I had been carrying. His hands began to move slowly, one tracing patterns up my back while the other stayed anchored on my hip.

"Is this helping?" he murmured against my neck, his breath warm and tantalizing.

I could barely form words, my mind clouded by the sensation. "Yes," I managed to whisper, my voice breathy and uncertain.

He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, his gaze intense and filled with something I couldn't quite name. "Good," he said softly, a smile playing on his lips. "Because you deserve to feel good, Cassara."

His words were like a balm, soothing the turmoil inside me. I found myself leaning into him, my hands resting on his broad shoulders for support. He took this as encouragement, his hands sliding lower to grip my thighs, pulling me closer still. The fabric of my skirt bunched up around my legs, and I could feel the rough texture of his trousers against my bare skin. As his lips continued their slow, deliberate exploration of my neck, I felt a growing heat between us, a tension that was both exhilarating and terrifying. I was losing myself in the moment, in the feel of his hands and mouth, and terrifyingly, I didn’t want to pull away. I allowed my fingers to tangle in his hair, drawing him closer, my body responding eagerly to his touch. The world around us faded, the sounds of the festival becoming a distant hum. All that mattered was the here and now, the way he made me feel alive and desired.

He shifted his position, and I felt the hard press of his arousal against me. The realization sent a thrill through me, a mix of desire and apprehension. His hands moved to cup my face, tilting it so he could look into my eyes again. "You’re beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

The sincerity in his gaze took my breath away, and for a moment, I felt a connection stronger than I had ever imagined possible. He leaned in, capturing my lips with his in a kiss that was both tender and demanding. I responded with equal fervor, my body pressing against his, desperate for more. As the kiss deepened, I felt his hands exploring, one slipping under my blouse to caress the skin of my back, the other sliding up my thigh, inching closer to where I ached for his touch. The sensations were overwhelming, a heady mix of pleasure and need.

When he finally broke the kiss, we were both breathless, our foreheads resting against each other. His breath mingled with mine, creating an intimate cocoon that seemed to shut out the rest of the world. "Cassara," he murmured, his voice a ragged whisper filled with raw desire. "Tell me if you want to stop."

I shook my head, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw, feeling the roughness of his stubble. "No," I whispered back, my voice trembling with anticipation. "I don't want to stop."

He smiled, a slow, wicked grin that sent another shiver coursing through my body. His eyes, dark with hunger, bore into mine. "Good," he said, his voice dark and promising. "Because I’m not done with you yet."

I felt his fingers deftly pull my underwear to the side, his touch sending electric jolts of pleasure through me. My breath hitched, and I bit my lip, trying to stifle the whimper that threatened to escape. His hand moved with deliberate slowness, heightening my anticipation, making my body respond in ways I couldn't control. The contrast between the cool night air and the heat radiating from our bodies was intoxicating. My mind was a whirlwind of sensations, each one more intense than the last. His fingers traced a path of fire across my skin, every touch igniting a new wave of longing.

I could feel his breath hot against my ear as he leaned in closer. "You like this, don't you?" he whispered, his voice a seductive purr that made my knees weak. "You want more."

A soft moan escaped my lips despite my best efforts to contain it. My body arched towards him, seeking the pleasure his touch promised. He chuckled softly, a dark, knowing sound that sent a thrill through me. "That's it," he murmured. "Let go, Cassara. Let me take you where you want to go."

His fingers found their target, and I gasped, my hips bucking involuntarily at the sudden surge of pleasure. He moved with a skill and confidence that left me breathless, his touch both commanding and tender. I could feel the tension building inside me, coiling tighter and tighter with each passing second.

"Do you feel that?" he whispered against my neck, his lips brushing my skin. "Do you feel how badly your body wants this? Wants me?"

I nodded, unable to form words, my mind lost in a haze of sensation. His fingers moved faster, driving me closer and closer to the edge. Every nerve in my body was on fire, the pleasure almost too much to bear. I clung to him, my nails digging into his shoulders, desperate for more.

"Say it," he demanded, his voice a rough growl that sent shivers down my spine. "Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me."

"I want you," I gasped, my voice barely more than a whisper. "I want you so much."

His smile was triumphant, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "That's right," he murmured, his fingers never slowing. "You're mine tonight, Cassara. All mine." The intensity of his words pushed me over the edge, and I cried out, my body convulsing with pleasure. He held me through it, his touch gentle but insistent, prolonging my release until I was left trembling and spent in his arms.

He hardly gave me time to catch my breath before he lifted me effortlessly, his strength both surprising and exhilarating. In one swift motion, he pulled down his trousers, his movements sure and unhurried. The world around us seemed to fade away, the sounds of the festival becoming a distant hum. The chance of someone stumbling upon us felt thrilling rather than alarming, adding an edge of danger to our encounter. I felt the tip of his cock teasing my entrance, sending a fresh wave of anticipation through my already sensitized body. My breath hitched, and I looked into his eyes, seeing a predatory hunger there that both scared and excited me. His hands gripped my hips firmly, positioning me just right.

"You feel that?" he whispered, his voice a low, seductive growl. "That's what you've been craving. That's what you've been denying yourself." He slowly pushed inside me, the sensation overwhelming. I gasped, my fingers clutching at his shoulders, needing something to anchor myself. He moved with a deliberate slowness, allowing me to feel every inch as he filled me completely. The stretch was delicious, a mix of pleasure and a hint of pain that made me want more.

"Gods, you're so tight," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "So perfect." His lips found mine again, the kiss fierce and demanding. I could taste the intensity of his desire, the raw need that mirrored my own.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing him to move, to take me. He obliged, setting a rhythm that was both relentless and measured, each thrust driving me closer to another peak. The world around us ceased to exist; there was only him, only this moment. Every time he pulled back, I whimpered in protest, and every time he thrust back in, I moaned in pleasure. The connection between us was electric, an unspoken understanding that this was what we both needed, what we both craved.

He angled his hips, hitting a spot inside me that made me see stars. "Right there," I gasped, my voice breaking. "Please, don't stop."

"Never," he promised, his pace quickening, his control unraveling. "I'll never stop, Cassara. Not until you come for me again." The pressure built within me, coiling tight, ready to snap. He felt it too, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate. I clung to him, my nails digging into his back, anchoring myself to the only reality that mattered in that moment. "Come for me, Cassara," he commanded, his voice rough and demanding. "Come for me now."

And I did. The release was explosive, ripping through me with a force that left me shattered and breathless. I cried out his name, my body convulsing around him, pulling him deeper into my core. He followed me over the edge, his own release hitting with a guttural groan, his body tensing as he spilled inside me. We clung to each other, our breaths mingling, our hearts racing. The world slowly came back into focus, the sounds of the festival gradually creeping back in.

After we regained our strength, we went our separate ways. Before parting, I offered him a drink if he ever found his way to the tavern. He gave me a lingering look, a wicked smile playing on his lips, and nodded. As I made my way back to the festival, I spotted Caty near the edge of the crowd, chatting animatedly with a tiefling. When she saw me approaching, she handed a slip of paper to the stranger, who gave her a friendly wave before disappearing into the throng.

Caty met me halfway, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "You look like you had some fun," she said, her smile teasing and knowing.

I felt a blush creep up my neck but managed to tease back. "I could say the same thing," I replied, sticking out my tongue. The fatigue of the evening was starting to catch up with me, and I let out a long sigh. "Let's go home. I'm tired."

As we walked back through the festival grounds, the noise and lights seemed to soften, casting a warm, almost dreamlike glow over everything. I glanced at Caty, her carefree demeanor a stark contrast to the turmoil that still lingered within me. She linked her arm with mine, guiding us through the thinning crowd.

"You should have seen your face when you came back," Caty giggled, nudging me playfully. "You were glowing."

"Stop," I laughed, feeling both embarrassed and amused. "It was just a dance."

"And a kiss," she added, waggling her eyebrows.

I shook my head, smiling despite myself. "And a kiss," I admitted. "But that's all. We went our separate ways afterward." I felt bad for lying but I was embarrassed for a reason that made no sense. We continued walking, the festival slowly fading into the background. The streets were quieter now, the bustle of the day giving way to the calm of the night. The cool air felt refreshing against my flushed skin, and I took a deep breath, savoring the tranquility.

As we approached the tavern, Caty squeezed my arm. "You know," she said softly, "it's okay to have fun, Cassara. You deserve it."

Her words hit me harder than I expected, and I felt a lump form in my throat. "I know," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "It's just... complicated."

Caty nodded, her expression understanding. "Life always is. But that doesn't mean we can't enjoy the good moments when they come."

We made our way above the tavern, where the rooms sat quietly in the soft glow of lantern light. We had graduated into separate rooms a while ago once Caty started having more company. “Thank you for reminding me,” I said with a genuine smile, pulling her into a warm hug. As we parted, I waved to her, and we headed to our respective doors. I fumbled with my key, feeling the comforting familiarity of its worn edges. But as I pushed my door open, an uneasy feeling crept over me, making me freeze in place. Something was off. The room, usually my sanctuary, felt foreign and hostile.

My eyes swept across the dark space, stopping at the open window where the curtains swayed gently in the night breeze. Someone had been here; that much was obvious. I felt a familiar sense of paranoia, as if a pair of eyes were watching my every move. Steeling myself, I cautiously moved towards my bed, where a gift box had been placed. The wrapping was elaborate, topped with a frilly bow that seemed out of place. My brows furrowed in concern. Alarm bells were ringing loudly in my head, urging me to get rid of the box immediately. But curiosity, a dangerous whisper in the back of my mind, began to pull my strings. I removed the lid, causing the walls of the box to fall open, revealing its gruesome contents.

Raw, cold terror ripped through me as I fell backwards onto the ground. My hand flew to my mouth, choking back a sob. There, lying on my bed, was a disembodied head, mouth hanging open, eyes staring lifelessly. Daeron’s expressionless face stared back at me, his once vibrant eyes now dull and vacant. A note I hadn’t originally noticed had fallen to the ground with me. With trembling hands, I picked it up and opened it. The words were written in a dark, elegant script that sent a chill down my spine:

“Did you miss me, darling? Consider this a reminder of our unfinished business. Don’t think for a moment you can escape me. Your body, your soul, they will be mine.”

My blood ran cold. The terror and horror of the message mingled with an icy realization. This was Astarion’s doing. He had returned, and this time, he wasn’t playing games. The weight of the threat pressed down on me, leaving me breathless and paralyzed with fear.

#astarion #astarion smut #astarion x female oc #astarion x female tav #astarion x oc #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate oc #bg3 tav #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 oc #bg3 #bg3 gale #astarion evil #astarion fanfic #baulders gate astarion #baldurs gate astarion

19 notes · View notes