#i just feel like something is missing here that is going to be actively overlooked and it's a little disappointing to me

[generic-sonic-fan]

Hi!

When I read your fics I was amazed how you write team dark and their dynamic. I was wondering, since I would like to write about them as well, but am struggling with really getting them to feel like actual people.

Do you have any tricks or things you keep in mind when writing Omega? And on top of that, what do you keep in mind when writing Rouge or Shadow? How do you make these three fit so well? Like three puzzle pieces that kind of have the right shape but still don’t quite align.

I’m sorry if this is a big ask, I’m just quite curious, you have written them so well in Mirror Verse and other one shots like CTRL + ALT + DELETE. Can’t help but ask for the secrets of the master :)

I am so honored by this question and you've also activated my trap card. I LOVE talking about how I see these guys and the vibes I keep in mind for each of them while writing.

The TL;DR:

Team Dark are a group of three mutually beneficial friends who regard each other as equals, even if they occasionally disagree/fight. In my opinion, if this is missing, you're no longer writing Team Dark, but "Rouge and her two dogs" or "IDW Shadow and his no good very bad mandates" or whatever. This is my most controversial opinion.

For Omega, he's the boisterous rebel of the group. He helps keep their momentum going at all times, and tends to be a driving force in conversations and the instigator of new actions.

For Shadow, he's the serious anchor of the team. He helps keep Team Dark together, tending to be the one most willing to let his true emotions show, whether that be his attachment to them or his real opinions on a situation.

For Rouge, she's the charismatic tactician of the team. She helps point Team Dark in a direction, tending to outline the circumstances and situations they find themselves in to help the other two understand better.

To use tropes, they're all Lancers for each other. Ideally, each one of them can be compared and contrasted against each other- not just Shadow and Rouge vs Omega or Shadow and Omega vs Rouge.

To move onto individual breakdowns of how I see each of them and how they fit together- LONG post beneath the cut! You have been warned! Oh, and the actual writing advice is at the bottom because I got carried away, oops.

Omega:

The basis-

The very core of my writing for Omega comes down to three points, which I will reiterate here for convenience. Omega:

Hates Eggman

Will do ANYTHING to avoid being ignored and overlooked again

uses the first point to cover up the second point and would sooner deactivate than admit it

This is, in my humble opinion, what motivates Omega in almost everything he does. He's loud and boisterous. Why? Because he hates being silenced! He's violent and dangerous. Why? Because the idea of being (and being seen) as powerless makes him furious.

Omega's greatest desires, outwardly manifested by his drive to kill his creator, are about choice and freedom for himself. If he wants to do something, he does it. Flat out. Or in the very rare cases of his restraint, he will make it explicitly clear that he is choosing not to for a reason that still benefits him in the long run. This robot has a pathological need for control over his life, and god help anyone who dares threaten that.

That control includes control over his image- he's a deeply prideful individual. Getting him to admit a mistake is like pulling (metaphorical) teeth. Shadow and Rouge are more likely to apologize than he ever will be. He can't stand being perceived as weak, inconsistent, or incompetent.

He's much more of a liar than Shadow ever could be. I've heard the phrase "still waters run deep", and I think that describes Omega perfectly. Like all the other members of Team Dark, he is extremely guarded with his more vulnerable emotions. Whereas Rouge's cover emotion is a flirty suaveness, and Shadow's cover emotion is aloof determination, Omega's cover emotion is a sort of joyous rage. He wants to be seen either as A. Angry or B. Having the time of his life. Good luck getting him to express anything else. (Even in front of Shadow and Rouge!)

But the important part is that he does feel the full range of emotions. And he accepts that he feels all those things, even if you couldn't get him to confess it out loud. I myself tend to accidentally write Omega as more philosophical than I think he needs to be, but that doesn't negate the fact that he does care about things that he pretends not to! How people treat him vs how they treat his organic teammates, his role as the (not quite) only friendly robot in his universe, so on. He has a curiosity about the world around him that someone who was isolated from it might have. And yes, there's actual canon evidence for this now- he spends all of Shadow's campaign in Sonic x Shadow generations making remarks and generating conclusions about the world around him, not just about Eggman robots.

Omega has such a zeal for life that he's not himself without it. He cares. He cares. He cares. Make him have strong opinions on everything.

Fitting into Team Dark:

Omega fits into Team Dark as their catalyst. The definition of "catalyst" is "a substance that increases the rate of a chemical reaction without itself undergoing any permanent chemical change".

Omega is the one always spurring Shadow and Rouge into motion, and he's the one that forces them into conflict- not against each other, but against the world, and their preconceptions of just about everything. He's the one asking "WHY NOT?" whenever they say they can't do something, "WHO CARES?" whenever they worry too much about anything. He's got too much drive to ever sit idly by, and being friends with him requires at least some level of reciprocation of that energy.

The biggest way Omega shows that he cares is simply by his presence. Shadow and Rouge understand that if Omega did not want to be here, he wouldn't be. Tolerating their own problems and eccentricities is their biggest ask from him. Given that "their problems" usually tend to be far outside his skill range, he's always a bit unsure of how to solve them. And of course, as we covered previously, he hates feeling or seeming unsure.

. . . but he does want to solve them. Because he cares.

He's the most classically tsundere out of all of them. It took him the longest out of all of them to figure out that he did genuinely care about them, but now that he does. . . he's not quite sure how to navigate it? Relationships are still new to him, give him time. The line where "WANTING TO MAINTAIN TEAMMATE EFFECTIVENESS" separates from "SEEING MY TEAMMATE IN DISTRESS MAKES ME DISTRESSED" is really fuzzy for him.

So he tries. He's one to face their problems like he does every other problem- head on. It's moments like this where his own clarity and certainty of character can cut through the fog of a problem that the other two are overcomplicating.

---

He's most similar to Shadow in their shared bluntness and need to feel like they're accomplishing their goals. They're both impulsive. They're both guys who ask "well why don't we just do X" and then they go run off to do X, even if it's already been tried and found to not work by someone before them. They share a mistrust of the competency of others.

He's most unlike Shadow in the fact that Shadow masks, heavily, while he does not. Shadow keeps quiet and tries to blend in with "normal" people. Omega does not, from his appearance to the way he acts. He embraces his differences while Shadow struggles with them. Omega is much more certain in his identity than Shadow will ever be.

---

He's most similar to Rouge in their shared nonchalance for consequences. Rouge is barely, barely governed by the idea that it would be harder to do what she wants if the cops are after her. Omega has come to agree with this philosophy. I've always headcanoned them as being far more morally questionable than Shadow would ever let himself be. They're also both go-getters. When they see something they want, they get it, even if the methods they employ to do so differ.

He's most unlike Rouge in that Rouge loves to play the "game" of society. She gets joy out of playing the fool sometimes and allowing people to underestimate her, something Omega would never tolerate even if he did see the value of such a play. This extends to her proclivity for stealth and anonymity- she doesn't mind having the last laugh over someone in private, whereas for Omega, what's the point if nobody knows that you won?

Shadow:

The basis:

Shadow is a character that I have the most difficulty describing how I write. Probably because, for fuck's sake, he's Shadow the Hedgehog. Everybody knows Shadow. Everybody writes about Shadow. And everybody writes about Shadow differently yet they all feel like the same guy. He is "all of him", and in a manner almost similar to Metal Sonic, there's so many different ways you can portray him yet still have it feel right.

Here is just about the only post I've made about how I write Shadow. It's a bit rambly, but I still stand by it. My favorite paragraph from it is probably this one-

At his best, Shadow is thoughtful, neutral, and surprisingly level-headed. Impulse only gets the best of him when he perceives himself as being the only one who can act competently- if a situation "needs" an Ultimate Lifeform, he's the first to run in and try to solve it. Otherwise, he's much more methodical than the likes of Sonic, Amy, Omega, etc. He values efficiency over fun or flashiness. He's not very good at putting himself in other people's shoes, but if you want an objective opinion on a situation at hand he's one of your best bets to ask.

For me, Shadow is someone who values being stoic and being there for the people who need him. One of his innate desires, one that he consistently struggles with, is to be the perfect tool for the people he cares about. He wants to solve their problems. Ease their pain. Fulfill their wishes about the world. I always thought that his very first line in SA2 to Eggman, about "granting his wish" was very resonant to him both pre- and post-Maria.

Shadow knows that he has the tendency to follow the directions of others, and it's something he fights within himself. He pushes himself to be independent to the point of overcorrecting and putting everyone off. He also has a tendency to form attachments, deeply, and this too is something that he tries to suppress and avoid showing (for Maria-related reasons).

Ultimately, Shadow is the most honest character of Team Dark. His struggles with who he is and his own mental health are too big for him to fight alone- as a result, he's forced to share them. He tries so hard to deny parts of him to himself that he ends up spilling everything everywhere. Shadow tries, and does a decent job in front of strangers, but among friends he just can't hide. He is all of him.

(This ironically results in him being the 'token mentally ill one' of Team Dark when I write him, lol! He's the one who's had to put the work in because of his PTSD, and it shows! He's got more emotional maturity than either Omega or Rouge because he's had to develop it to keep moving forward with his life.)

Fitting into Team Dark:

Shadow is the anchor of Team Dark. He helps ground Omega and Rouge to the world. He's by far the most philosophical and spiritual of the three- he's the only one thinking about stuff like his purpose, his future, his role in life, what he's meant to be, etc. He's a thinker, and sometimes Omega and Rouge need that sort of anchor to the bigger picture to stay themselves.

He is honest and he is earnest. He says what he means, and means what he says. He provides the best evaluations of the current situation. He's almost like the "canary in the coal mine"- if something is going wrong, if the Team or anybody in it starts to lose their way, Shadow is the first to speak up.

He might not be the one to start the conversation, but he is the first one to really talk, and this helps the others open up. The most important thing is that he doesn't even realize he's doing it. He's not self-aware enough to be a facilitator or mediator in any capacity, but he is the stabilizer of the three regardless.

. . . which some might call ironic, given the fact that it's Rouge and Omega helping him stay level when it comes to his erratic mental health. He does lean on them when he gets triggered. He needs to. And sometimes he needs someone to talk him out of his own spiral when he thinks too much. Omega and Rouge help him to unwind from the tight little knots he binds himself in trying to sort out himself.

Saying that Shadow cares about them is like saying that Shadow cares about breathing. It's effortless. Natural. He couldn't stop caring about them now if he tried. It's just the way he's wired. The biggest way that he shows this is by doing things for them and worrying about them. Both in silence, of course.

---

He's most similar to Omega in his potential for ruthlessness and a stubbornness when they've made up their minds. They also relate through their shared otherness to the majority, being manufactured beings who have difficulty discerning the intentions and reasoning of others.

He's most unlike Omega in that he has a firm moral compass and a deep consideration for what is "intended" for him. Furthermore, conflict isn't something Shadow enjoys. Destruction? Sure. Conflict? Not really, so he avoids it for things he doesn't deem important. Omega finds disagreements refreshing, whereas for Shadow they make him feel trapped.

---

He's most similar to Rouge in that they both don't mind slowing down. They both take pleasure in the little things in life, from soft blankets to good fur care products and the like. Though Shadow is more duty-driven than her, they prefer having lives outside of their work. They both need to have periods alone to gather themselves again.

He's most unlike Rouge in that he's selfless while she's selfish. It's not even just that he's got a more heroic moral compass than her- he just fundamentally values other things more highly than he does himself. Of the entire team he's the most likely to step up to "do what's required" or "do what's right". Oh, and he's self-sacrificial to a fault, something Rouge just can't fathom.

Rouge:

Rouge is the hardest for me to write because she's the opposite of Omega in a lot of ways.

This is a bat who puts on a front for everything.

Including in her own narration.

I think my strongest POV character work for her that shows this is chapters 2 and 6 of my 2024 Team Dark Week one-shots. Both of which allude to things about her that she won't even tell the audience, as well as plenty of emotions that she kicks down so that nobody sees them.

Whereas Omega desires physical control, Rouge desires control over information. She's a string-puller, a manipulator, a planner. She's the ultimate tactician, and she will do everything in her power to ensure that she ends up on top and her enemies end up on the bottom, crushed by her own heel if she's lucky, but she'll also settle for their destruction by anyone or anything else.

She's invested most heavily into her social skillset. She always knows the right thing to say. Conversations are if-then equations for her; if she says this, then the other person will feel that. She uses this on enemies and friends alike, and furthermore, regardless of what she might actually want to say or do in the moment.

A friend might be sad, and if she needs them to be happy, she'll console them, even if she would rather grab their shoulders and scream her frustration at them. An enemy might ask her to do something that she hates, but if it means accomplishing her goals, she'll shove that down and do it with a smile. She's flexible, adaptable, mutable, and she can track her status with each individual with ease. . .

. . . except with herself. Not to say that she isn't incredibly prideful, and that she won't stick up for herself, but sometimes the gap between what she needs to be to get the result she wants and what she's actually feeling in the moment can grow so large she disconnects them entirely. She won't just hide her emotions- she will feel ashamed of them and try to force herself not to feel them.

She's the most 'herself' when she's 'off shift', so to speak. She relaxes significantly when she's alone or with the two people on this planet that she trusts enough to do so. She actually becomes less opinionated when she's at her most casual. She can get catty or annoyed by things in this state but she much more go-with-the-flow. While she gets the most pleasure from intensive gem heists, it doesn't take much to just make her happy. A good TV show? She's happy. A fun chat with a friend? She's happy. Painted nails and a good outfit? Happy.

The catch is having the stability to stay that way, hence the impressive tangle of machinations she concocts to keep her little corner of the world totally within her control.

Fitting into Team Dark:

Most people probably were surprised by my previous section stating that Shadow was the emotional anchor of the team. Most people see Rouge that way- and that's a valid interpretation, but I prefer a different take.

Rouge is the team leader. Period. I stand by the majority of this post I made about Rouge's dynamic as the team leader. The TL;DR is that she's the planner and tactician, the expert at cognitively thinking through the best way to aim the two living weapons at her disposal. This also, however, comes with resolving the differences between them when things get heated.

She often finds herself as the one resolving conflict, not because she's the "mom friend", but that she needs these two to get along (and some external parties to get along with them!) or else a lot of her plans could fall apart, and she cannot have that. Being a part of Team Dark is one hell of a vulnerable position for her, and there's some days where she wonders if it's worth it. Being dependent on others like this freaks her out in a way that Shadow and Omega can't conceptualize.

She's always had a soft spot for Shadow and Omega given the circumstances. That much is true. But I think it's only a significant ways into her friendship with them that she resolves to stick by Shadow and Omega's sides should the world turn against them. Choosing to have someone's back instead of distancing herself the moment things become dicey is a huge sign that she genuinely cares. I believe her confession in Sonic 06, and again in SxS Gens, to be the most honest and heartfelt she's ever going to be with them. Shadow and Omega might not understand the full depth of what those moments meant for her.

---

She's most similar to Shadow in that they're both pretty grounded. A lot of the basic assumptions they make about the world and scripts for how to behave are similar between them. They feel their emotions similarly and in response to similar situations, even if Rouge tends to hide them better. They're both just. . . pretty relaxed people outside of extraordinary circumstances. Not to say they don't have moments where they get passionate and excited on their own though.

She's most unlike Shadow in that she doesn't think anything is wrong with her. For all her knowledge on people and emotions and conversation, she doesn't understand that the way she operates is pretty mentally ill, folks! She thinks that she doesn't have any trauma, anything to cry about or angst over, and nothing is further than the truth. Her struggles were 'ordinary', distant from alien bioweapons or growing up on a space station or being freshly created then locked in a basement forever. But they were still struggles, struggles that shape how she sees the world and not in a good way.

---

She's the most similar to Omega in their shared pathological need for control, lol. They're both control freaks, even if said control freaking can occur in opposite directions from each other. It's where they chafe the most and it's because they're so similar. They're also both prideful and care deeply about keeping their reputations consistent. They're both liars in contrast to Shadow's honesty.

She's the most unlike Omega in that she's willing to mute herself to get what she wants. Sometimes she wishes she could scream "why can't you just pretend to be normal?!?!?!" at him when he's stirring up trouble and forcing her to alter her plans. She's calculated. He's rash. Fundamental mismatch of vibes sometimes.

Conclusion

It's been so fun to type out the culmination of almost my two years writing for these characters and how they weave in and out of each other.

In a not-at-all-concise way, I've tried to describe how they fit together and how they all have different sides to them.

I think the most important thing I've practiced to make them feel "real" when you're writing them is to hint, but not outright state, that there's something they're not saying that differs or is deeper than their surface-level conversation. For example, Rouge would never ever EVER say "I'm manipulating people to protect myself." Omega would never ever ever say "I care but I have no idea how to show it." Shadow could maybe possibly say "I'm trying to find myself and resist being the obedient tool I was made to be," but holy shit is he going to have to be going through it to even consider saying that.

You have to hint at it. Dance around the topic. Delight in withholding the information from the readers. Have Rouge sweet-talk someone to do something only for her smile to fade into something anxious and tired the moment their back is turned. Have Omega shoplift something small for Rouge from the supermarket and have him questioning the entire time whether it was even worth the effort, only to be relieved when Rouge squeals in delight. Have Shadow give an abrupt "no" to a seemingly benign request for a favor from Rouge and write him clamming up about why he did so afterwards.

It's blending these deeper facets of their characters into their current dialogue and actions that's my favorite thing to do in my writing. Even better if an outside character witnesses that little glimpse of the interior world and goes "huh, I wasn't expecting that."

Oh, and all the above paragraphs I've typed in this post to perfectly describe each character? Remember that they don't know all that about themselves.

They might be just as surprised as the outside characters are about how they've acted. They might not realize that something was bothering them, or that there was something they feel strongly about, until it surfaces unexpectedly! This can result in fights, or big dramatic moments.

All of THAT dives into the whole "avoiding therapy-speak" discussion currently happening in the greater writing community, one that would require me to write an entirely different post to explain. Here's my favorite primer on the subject if you'd like, but this post is already long enough, so I'll leave off here.

Thank you so much for this ask. You gave my autistic ass the best evening of my life typing this all out.

[fiona-fififi]

I wanted to respond here, but didn't have a chance last week, so please forgive me for bringing this back.

First (@theladyyavilee this one's not directed at you at all; I just figured it'd be easier to put it all in the same response), I feel like several people are misunderstanding a bit here.

In this post, I am not talking about Tommy telling Buck "I don't think you're ready." I am specifically referring to the later coffee meet up when he says "I didn't cut things short because you behaved badly. I did it because I didn't want to pressure you." These two statements occur in very different circumstances, and they also say two very different things. Some of the responses to this post seem to think I'm criticizing Tommy for the "I don't think you're ready" comment, but that's not actually the case. It's the latter statement and the way it's framed that I take issue with here.

So anyway, in response to your points here, @theladyyavilee, I absolutely agree, and I wish I was seeing a little more engagement with this nuance. I think that's what's frustrating me most. It seems everyone is either on one extreme or the other—that Tommy is a saint for putting up with Buck and forgiving him and acting as the perfect gay mentor OR that poor Buck is just navigating his way through his queer awakening and Tommy treated him horribly. But neither one of those things is true.

The reality is that this experience for both of them is complicated and messy, and it is okay both for Buck to stumble and for Tommy not to be okay with that. And the perspective from which you consider it does change the situation. If focused on Buck's experience, yeah, Tommy leaving him behind on the date without so much as a conversation was harsh and maybe even a little unfair. If focused on Tommy’s point of view, Buck did kind of behave badly (even if unintentionally) and Tommy had every right to be upset and end the date early, especially because, as you point out, Buck didn't just make a fool of himself but also actively forced Tommy back in the closet for no reason at all (Buck knows Eddie well enough to know that Tommy being gay is not going to make him uncomfortable, and while Buck obviously did not need to come out to Eddie then and there, there was no reason for Eddie to ever assume a date regardless; as if Buck and Eddie have never eaten out at a restaurant just the two of them before? And as if Eddie and Tommy didn't literally just fly to Vegas together just the two of them as buddies?). And yeah, Buck was flustered and anxious, but that doesn't make it okay for him to have pulled Tommy into his lie and forced him into the closet over Buck's own insecurity.

And I find that nuance—that they can both be kind of right and wrong (for lack of a better term) depending on the perspective—SO much more interesting than the way it seems it's being perceived as either one side or the other, with most of the fandom seeming to lean into Tommy as this perfect, soft gay mentor who couldn't possibly have done anything questionable and in fact was only looking out for Buck. Because that reading flattens Tommy’s character so much and ignores the reality of what was represented in that scene. But also, I actually get the feeling that is exactly what the show was leaning into, so I do also understand that reading.

But I am struggling so much with the way it ignores the nuance of the date situation.

And as a result, I'm also still struggling a lot with the "I didn't cut things short because you behaved badly. I did it because I didn't want to pressure you" line because it feels so disingenuous to what actually happened. And I think maybe I don't love it as a writing choice more than anything. Because part of me feels like it was an attempt for the show to really lean into Tommy as the perfect man, but all it did for me was make it feel like he was dismissing Buck and avoiding a conversation about his own boundaries. And I don't really think that was exactly what was intended, but that was how it read to me. I really feel like those lines needed to have been separated from one another or adjusted—maybe with a return to the "I don't think you're ready" point instead of the "I didn't want to pressure you" point. Or maybe just with a deeper conversation.

But for me, that line felt almost like a cop-out to avoid giving Tommy a real role in that conversation, and I think that bothers me a little. Especially because I kind of feel similar about the way he ended the date. It's like they're removing Buck's own agency here by giving Tommy the reins to dictate what Buck is ready for. And I don't think Tommy was wrong by any means—he is not obligated to stay in a situation or a relationship he is not comfortable with, and it really did seem like Buck wasn't ready. But by removing Buck's feelings from the equation and not opening up space for a conversation (especially in the way it forced Buck to seek out Eddie, who knows him so much better, to try to come to terms with what he actually wanted), but also then painting Tommy as perfect in the way he's apparently trying to guide Buck through this new experience feels. off to me.

Honestly, again, I think it's something about the way they’re using the character (in terms of the writing itself, I think, in ways that maybe don't feel fully intentional). Like, Tommy felt so complex in the beginning of the episode because he made those choices that felt just a little left of kind—not cruel or anything, certianly not intentionally so, but just not quite in line with the image they painted of him in the coffee meet up. It just feels like not exploring those more complex choices earlier in the episode flattens Tommy as a character and takes away so much potential for further complexity, mostly because I don't think they'll return to it, and I feel like I'm just supposed to accept Tommy as the sweet, perfect new boyfriend. And I guess that's kind of okay, but the little inconsistencies in that narrative stick out to me—especially because I want those little inconsistencies to be fleshed out and explored for the character, even though I don't think they will be.

And, I mean, this is all likely because Tommy is not meant to stick around and he's being used in a way that helps them move forward Buck's story without taking too much time to flesh out Tommy’s character, and I guess I get that, but I like him, and I'd like to see him become more nuanced than what they've shown us thus far.

And I think I ended up just babbling here in the end, so I guess this isn't a great response, but this is what's been in my head for the last two weeks.

Okay. I'm about to say something that's probably going to get me run out of the fandom, but.

I don't actually think Tommy leaving their date early had anything to do with him not wanting to pressure Buck (regardless of what he claimed later). Instead, I think it had everything to do with Tommy being annoyed and no longer into it that evening, and I think that is both okay AND significantly more interesting than taking him at his word later and framing it as some selfless act by a sanitized elder gay shepherd just trying to do right by Buck.

[fortheloveoffanfic]

The Profound Pleasure of Little Things

Hozier x reader

Author's note: Basically the thought was, "ohh, what if there was a real moment that inspired Wasteland!baby."

Summary: Andrew and Y/n spend an afternoon at the beach.

Warnings - poorly written fluff, I guess.

"I think if the world ended right now, I'd be alright with that.”

After spending the past fifteen minutes or so bearing witness to her magnificence. Ireland's solem grey sky meeting the frigid, green water and acting as a cool toned backdrop to the brightness of her beauty. The way those deep, blue jeans hug her curves, the woolen burgundy coat, draped over a band tee, that follows the contour of her frame and her hair tumbling over her shoulders as she stands a few feet off the edge, gaze cast out towards the horizon; as if the world below them had been thought up just for her.

As Y/n turns to face him, the wind whips her hair forward, and he smiles when she hastily brushes away from her eyes. “What?” She chortles, but there's an air of disbelief in the word and she tilts her head a little to the side, “why?”

Licking his lips, Andrew pushes off the boulder he's been perched on, one converse-clad foot planted on the ground while the other stayed propped on a smaller rock jutting from the lush grass. “Because,” he stuffs his hands into the side pockets of the denim jacket he's thrown over his red flannel, “I've seen you, standing here and that's gotta be the best thing that's ever happened to me.”

Y/n rolls her eyes; he's awfully romantic when he doesn't mean to be – and mind-bogglingly terrible at it when he actively tries. Just that morning he'd clumsily danced them into the kitchen table after daring more than their usual sway. But now, after a long afternoon drive and an impromptu hike up a hill that overlooks the sea, he's stringing together the sort of lines that make her cheeks go warm and stirs a flutter in her chest. “You're being dramatic,” she teases, relinquishing her hand when he reaches for it. Their fingers lace with ease; it's something they're so used to doing that Y/n rarely thinks much of it anymore. It's such a small, mundane thing and his hands have become so familiar to her that they almost feel like her own – and like she'd miss her own hand if it were gone forever, she'd miss his too.

He is a part of her; as vital as a limb, or the thing beating in her chest.

“Hardly,” his thumb ghosts the soft skin over her knuckles, and his eyes soften when they meet hers. It still startles him that she's his, and standing there with the smell of salt, autumn and her perfume flooding his senses, Andrew fears he might be dreaming, “you look…..” Like a painting, something that one could only wish to be privileged enough to see, let alone touch, “exquisite.”

Y/n giggles before glancing down at herself. She knows she must look plain at best, and a wind-tousled mess at worst. Even if she isn't the self-deprecating type, it's tough to believe that she looks like anything special without makeup, her hair free-styled by the breeze and her face nipped by the chill. The coat that she's owned for nearly a decade and a faded t-shirt probably isn't helping her case either. “Are you trying to get laid on this hilltop?” She asks conspiringly.

Snaking his free arm around her waist, Andrew simultaneously pulls Y/n closer and throws his head back in laughter. Lifting her gaze to drink him in, Y/n’s smile softens; she loves the way he looks when he laughs like that. Entirely carefree, as if he mightn’t have anything in the world to worry about, its a laugh she sees most off when he’s been home for a while and he isn’t concerned about deadlines and appearances, or when they have friends over and he’s had a bit too much to drink. Or when she says something that is a little absurd, but not quite funny, and he somehow finds the world of humor in it.

“Well, I wouldn’t be opposed,” his fingers curl into her waist. Then, when the shaking of his shoulders settle, he lowers his eyes to meet hers. It always baffles him how she could not know – not completely – what she does to him. Because if she did, Y/n wouldn’t doubt his credibility for a second when he says that she’s beautiful – and utterly in awe of everything that she is. “But I really do think that you look lovely darling,” he adds softly, freeing his hand from hers to gently cup her face, “if you saw what I did, you’d understand. If you could see yourself through my eyes…….thought of yourself with my mind, you would get to know the most breathtaking person I've ever met.”

Licking her lips, Y/n lays her hands on his chest, thumb grazing the sliver of skin left exposed by the undone top button of his shirt. “How do you do that?” She muses quietly, gazing up at him.

Andrew's thumb roves the apple of her cheek and she leans into his touch, “Do what?” He lowers his head a little, so their foreheads are that much closer to touching.

“Come up with…..stuff,” she hates the word in the context, “like that.”

“Well, it would just so happen, that I have the best muse,” because every beautiful thing he can think of is tangled up with the thought of her. He can’t see flowers without wondering how they’d look if they were laced in her hair, or held in her hands, he sees art and wonders if she’d like it too and when he’s faced with a day like this one – where everything seems to be in perfect measure – all Andrew wants to do is share it with her.

“I am just so in love with you,” he rasps, the sudden drop in his voice sending a shiver up her spine, “that it touches every part me, everything I do has a bit of you in it,” as if all the old parts of himself have been shed, giving way to something new, improved in a way that only be because of her presence.

The more Andrew thinks about the clearer one certainty becomes; in a way, the world has already ended. It happened the second he fell in love with her. Everything as he knew it was changed forever – reduced to a wasteland, and out from the ashes she came.

Lifting one of her hands, Y/n caresses his temple with the pad of her thumb. “What a beautiful mind you have,” she muses, gaze matching his. Y/n always faults him for having a way with his words, usually when he doesn't even mean to, but Andrew doesn't think she ever pays enough mind to what she's saying. “Who needs the rest of the world when they have this?”

His thumb continues stroking her cheek in that languid, gentle fashion and Andrew’s gaze softens so much that he thinks he must be melting under her touch. He must be putty in her hands – so easy to mold however she pleases, because the only thing he wants more than being with her is being exactly what Y/n needs.

May he always be a necessity, may her life be just a touch emptier without him, so she’ll keep him around.

“Who needs it, darling?” Who needs it when the best of it smiles when she looks at me? He’s just about to press his lips to hers in a kiss he’s been aching to steal since the moment she turned to look at him, when a wave – way down below – breaks so violently that a few droplets hit their faces, causing Y/n to shift her gaze towards the expanse of glacial teal.

“We should walk down to the beach,” she suggests suddenly, eyes alight with the wonder of someone yearning for the thrill of adventure. In an instant, Y/n is backing out of his embrace – like a dream just past his immediate reach. She takes his hand though, lacing her smaller, finer fingers with his and practically tugs him along, urging him towards the mouth of the stoney, sloped pathway that leads to the beach.

“Yeah, sure-” Andrew doesn’t even get to reply before he’s stumbling along, blindly following her. He isn’t even sure if she actually knows the way – he’s never taken her there, but Y/n is quick-witted enough to figure things out without anyone’s help. As he watches her trot ahead with purpose, feet clad in Chuck Taylor's stomping on the feathery grass as she moves ahead, Andrew keeps his gaze fixed on her. The way she holds her head up, as if she doesn’t need a map – or even him – to show her the way. The way the wind blows her hair and her delicate fingers work to keep them away from her eyes. She’s moving so quickly that its hard to take it all in, and Andrew finds himself wanting to ask her to slow down, so he can soak up the way she looks against the blur of the trees.

Sometimes, he wants to tell her – beg her – to just be a bit more still. Because while he adores watching her move, drinking in every miniscule action that is so specific to her, Andrew breathes for the moments where there isn’t the slightest quiver in her form. When his view of her is entirely unhampered by the demands of life; she doesn’t have to get up to answer her phone, or check on the laundry downstairs – when she’s just lounging in bed with her glasses propped on the bridge of her nose and a book held up in front of her face, when she’s sitting on the back patio while nursing an afternoon tea, watching the birds entertain each other.

When Y/n is standing before him, surrounded by a tapestry of greens and blues and other specks of colour that pale in her wake, like something he should never be so privileged to bare witness to.

His thoughts are interrupted when she stumbles on a rock and instinctively deserts her hand in favor of reaching for her hips. “Slow down,” he chuckles, reeling her close to his chest, one arm wrapping around her middle as they continue downward.

“But I wanna see the beach,” she protests with a giggle as his lips find her cheek. Reaching past herself, she lays her hand on his neck, holding his face close to hers for a few seconds longer.

“And you will,” Andrew mumbles, mouth still pressed up to her face, “but lets……enjoy the getting there too.”

“I think you’re enjoying it a little too much,” Y/n admonishes humorously when Andrew squeezes her to him.

“Impossible,” he bends his head to nuzzle the side of her face, “I actually think you’re not enjoying this enough.”

“Yeah?” She leans into his embrace, hand falling onto his forearm as she finally relents to stopping for a moment. She can hear the sounds of the sea a bit more clearly now, and the air is saltier than it had been when they were up on the hill. Through the foliage, Y/n spots bits of jewel toned ripples, a tell-tale sign that they aren’t too far off, and she’s actively holding herself back from urging him ahead. She does have a habit of rushing things, sometimes the need to just keep moving is almost overwhelming; she’s so focused on getting somewhere that she forgets the journey is half the experience.

Andrew, she often finds, is entirely the opposite. It's a quality she admires in him; his ability to revel in simple joys, the way he’s able to steady himself enough to thoroughly take everything in. While she’s eager to brush past everything in her way to get to her finish line, he’s perfectly fine with strolling through the trees, stopping ever so often to take pictures of things that interest him, or rattle off a random fact that he learned in a nature documentary.

“Yes,” Andrew hisses, kissing the corner of her lips, “just relax a little.”

“I’m very relaxed,” Y/n scoffed defensively, “we just have different definitions of that word.”

Andrew laughs loudly, finally letting her go and allowing her to take his hand again, “I’m not even sure that word is in your dictionary,” he chortles as she tows him along. Y/n doesn’t respond, he doesn’t even know if she hears him, because as the words leave his mouth, they reach the edge of the woods which opens up to the small beach. The sand is soft under his shoes, and the sting of salty air is sharp. “Happy now?” He teases when she lets his hand go in favor of going a few paces ahead.

“I was always happy,” Y/n corrects, “but now I'm…..satisfied.”

“If satisfaction is what you were looking for, I could've helped with that up there,” he nudges his head towards the top of the hill they’d been standing on about fifteen minutes earlier.

Y/n rolls her eyes as she turns to look at him, “oh shut up,” she giggles.

“Just sayin’,” he hums, moving to stand beside her, arm going around her shoulders. Immediately, Y/n tilts her head so its touching his side.

As she keeps her eyes trained forward, Y/n hums, “its so beautiful.”

Andrew returns the sound, albeit just a bit softer as he turns his head to look down at her, nestled against him. Its hard to describe just how much he enjoys the feeling of her tucked against him, its one of those simple pleasures that he never fails to appreciate; the way her form fits perfectly with his, like they were made to just click together. It's such a small thing; the comfort that comes with holding someone who wouldn’t trade the feeling of your arms around them for anything else in the world, and he can never seem to get enough of it. He lives for the way throwing his arm around her shoulder has become as natural to him as breathing, and how instinctive it is when she leans against him.

“Don’t you think so?” Y/n glances up at him, a smile dusting her cheeks when their eyes meet. There's always a little tingle that prods at her heart when she finds him looking at her, like the beat of butterfly wings against the petal of a flower.

Licking his lips, he glances forward at the ocean stretched out before then, and the near vacant beach that spreads out for at least a mile on either side.

He must’ve seen this beach near a hundred times by now. Andrew is well aquainted with the way the waves break against the collection of jagged rocks piled against once side of the shore, foam washing the salt-worn gray and seeping into the crevices. The crunch of pebbles and broken seashells under his boot isn’t foreign to him, and he knows all too well how frigid those waters can be around this time of the year. He’s seen the beauty of the place, he swears he’s done his best to appreciate it too, but there’s something different about holding her as the water pulls the sand seaward and salty sprinkles dust their lips. It feels like he’s seeing for the first time all over again.

And he loves it – all of it. The way it feels like a film has been peeled off his eyes, the thrill of enjoying the simplest things so much more than he ever has because he's sharing the moment with her.

“Yeah,” he looks at her again, lowering his head to touch the tips of their noses, “its beautiful, baby.”

[goddessinnerglow]

Become Your Best Version Before 2025 - Day 9

Auditing Your Relationships

Hey Goddesses! We're going to talk about something really important, but often overlooked, our relationships.

Our connections with others play a massive role in our happiness and growth. But life gets busy, and sometimes we put those connections on autopilot. That’s why today is all about doing a relationship audit. Think of it as checking in on your “connection bank” and making sure the important ones are thriving.

Pull out your journal (or open your Notes app), and let’s dig in.

1.Reflect on Your Circle

Ask yourself: Who are the people in my life right now? This isn’t about judging anyone; it’s about awareness. Write down:

People you talk to daily.

Those you lean on when life gets tough.

People you love but maybe haven’t connected with in a while.

Now ask: How do these relationships make me feel? Energized? Loved? Drained?

To keep it simple, create three columns in your journal:

Nurture: Relationships you cherish and want to pour into.

Reassess: Connections that feel one-sided or unhealthy.

Reconnect: Those you’ve unintentionally drifted away from but miss.

2.Strengthen Your Core Relationships

Think about the people in your Nurture column. These are your VIP, your people. Ask yourself:

When was the last time I told them how much they mean to me?

Have I been truly present when we’re together?

Now, pick one small thing to do for someone this week:

Send a random “thinking of you” text.

Plan a coffee date or video call.

Leave a sticky note of appreciation on their desk or mirror.

Sometimes, the smallest gestures speak the loudest.

3.Address Strained Connections

Relationships in the Reassess column can be tricky. Maybe it’s a friend who constantly cancels plans or someone whose energy doesn’t match yours anymore.

Here’s the thing: it’s okay to outgrow connections. It doesn’t mean you don’t care about them; it just means you’re prioritizing your emotional health.

This is where practicing boundaries comes in.

For example:

If a friend is always negative, limit how much time you spend with them.

If someone constantly crosses your boundaries, have an honest conversation.

It might feel uncomfortable at first, but protecting your peace is so worth it.

4.Rekindle Faded Connections

We all have people in our Reconnect column, friends or family who’ve been pushed to the edges of our busy lives. Reaching out can feel awkward at first, but it’s amazing how quickly the warmth can come back.

Try sending a simple message like:

“Hey, I was just thinking about you and realized how much I miss our chats. How are you doing?”

“Life has been so busy, but I’d love to catch up. Are you free next week?”

Sometimes, it just takes one brave step to reignite a meaningful connection.

5.Check in with Yourself

Let’s not forget the most important relationship: the one with yourself.

Ask:

Am I showing myself the same love and compassion I give to others?

Do I make time for activities that light me up?

Am I proud of how I’m showing up in my relationships?

Make sure you schedule me time this week. Even 30 minutes can make a huge difference. Take a walk, read a book, or journal about what’s on your mind.

So basically...

You don’t need to have perfect relationships to feel fulfilled. What matters is that you’re trying, that you’re showing up with love, intention, and care.

Let’s commit to nurturing the connections that matter, letting go of what doesn’t serve us, and pouring back into ourselves. This isn’t about being perfect; it’s about being present.

Tell me: which step are you starting with today? I’d love to hear how it goes, let me know in the comments or send me a message.

See you tomorrow for Day 10!

♡ ☆:.｡ Keep glowing, babes! ♡ ☆:.｡ With love, Goddess Inner Glow.

[olderthannetfic]

Gift fic anon -- to be clear, I'm not assuming they're an asshole, I'm assuming either it got missed, and I have to pretend it's fine that I just happened to be overlooked (like I always am when I try to contribute something), or what I wrote actually wrote sucks so badly they're struggling to find anything nice to say about it.

Recipient is not a close friend, or I'd be comfortable giving them a nudge to make sure they saw it. They're basically the only author actively writing a rarepair I love, which is what I wrote them. When I say they're reblogging stuff, I mean, 'other fics from our mutual fandom', and every time they pop up on my dash, I go "ooh, maybe now?" like an idiot.

I've been trying to be patient, I just really feel like I'm watching every present get opened but mine. If I knew they'd seen it and were saving it for later, it would be different.

--

I was assuming you wrote them a random gift from your first post. Now, it sounds like this is a tumblr such-and-such week or something? Or were you just contributing to something in the sense of making there be more fic for a rarepair?

If you really did write a stranger a random gift, that's sweet, but it can often go wrong in the same way as crafters being upset that their hand-made gift didn't elicit the response they expected. (Can you tell I'm deep in reading this year's salt about that on reddit. Haha.)

It's hard to speculate more on which of the billion options is right here. They read the other fics a while ago. They're leery of surprise gifts but will ultimately like the fic. They missed it. etc.

I think gift giving can often be an emotional letdown for the gifter, unfortunately.

[scribefindegil]

Some thoughts on unreliable narrators as I procrastinate on writing several tricky scenes with unreliable narrators:

Every narrator is unreliable. Just like there's no such thing as 'objectivity' in journalism or academia, there's no such thing as a truly reliable narrator. The narrator's viewpoint is limited, they're shaped by their culture and personality and experiences, they overlook things and make assumptions. It's all a matter of degree. But usually we talk about "unreliable narrators" when the gap between what the narrator says and what the reader/author believes to be true is prominent enough to be narratively significant.

Where is the gap?

Unreliable narrators are not all duplicitous. In fact, many are telling the truth as they understand it. But some are not! This is by no way a comprehensive taxonomy of narrators, and even within a single story there are likely to be shifts and overlaps, but here are some Types I find helpful to consider:

Oblivious The reader doesn't get crucial information because the narrator simply was not paying attention. Maybe they were missing context. Maybe they were bored. Maybe they were distracted by a hot girl (Gideon I love you). Alternatively, the reader gets clearly false information (especially about how other characters are thinking or feeling) that the narrator wholeheartedly believes to be true (Breq I love you).

Repressed You the reader can tell that what the narrator's telling you they think/feel and what they actually think/feel are not the same, but the narrator themself has no idea. For narrators that lack self-awareness and don't understand why they do the things they do or for narrators that are really good at not looking at things that make them uncomfortable.

Liar (internal) The "Sure, you keep telling yourself that, buddy" version, where the narrator is on some level aware that they're lying to themself but doubles down on it anyway. Tends to involve a lot of rationalizing or misdirection. It's very common for a character to have a realization about something important partway through a story (that The System is corrupt, that they're in love with their best friend, that their actions are actually more self-serving than altruistic, etc) that makes them switch between Repressed (passive internal conflict) and Liar (active internal conflict). Or, you know, they might have a realization and not immediately start lying to themself about it, but where's the fun in that?

Liar (external) Usually shows up in first-person stories or in-universe writing, since it requires the narrator to be aware that they have an audience and be attempting to intentionally mislead them. In this case, there is a deliberate disconnect between what the narrator's understanding of events and the account of it they're giving for the purpose of spin or deception.

Coerced This is where the gap comes from an external factor, usually magic or sci-fi nonsense that messes with a character's mind and changes their perception of themself and/or reality, (eg they can't talk/think about a certain subject, they've had their memories altered, etc). It's a different flavor than the other sorts of unreliability and can overlap with any of the others depending of how aware the character is of what's been done to them.

How Obvious Is The Gap?

Another thing to consider is at what point, and to what extent, a reader becomes aware that a narrator is unreliable. Is it clear from the beginning? Is it played as a reveal? Is is a slow dawning realization? Is it something that you could overlook on a first readthrough that only becomes obvious once you put the pieces together? All of these can be effective, but it's good to know going in. If you want the narrator's unreliable nature to be a reveal (that is, there's a point where the reader realizes that they're lying and that recontextualizes the whole story), you're going to approach it differently than if you want your readers to be screaming about the dramatic irony from the beginning. If your point is that the reader shouldn't actually know how much of what the narrator's telling them is true, that's going to look very different than a story about a narrator who has an on-page realization about one of the big things they've been lying to themself about and has to navigate the consequences.

[vincentvalenfine]

hai halo! the mansion fic sounds interesting!

i love my black hair turk and ex-turk so much so when your request is open again can i ask for something like tseng trying to make vincent jealous because he is tired of the mutual pining between vincent and the reader and just want them to be together? thank you for considering this🖤

There's no such thing as a former Turk. Well, only if they're dead, in Tseng's opinion; Vincent Valentine isn't dead in the conventional sense, only the legal, so it doesn't count. And the Director - calm, level-headed, keen, observational - can tell when a Turk is purposely missing what would otherwise be the easiest shot of their life.

It's one of the few things that actually annoys him, really.

Tseng is one of the only Turks not banned from Tifa's bar on the count of not starting any fights (Reno), talking himself into trouble (Elena), or being annoying in general (also Reno). Tifa had also pulled him aside once to admit he was still allowed in spite of working for Rufus because, in her words, "Aerith would've been happier this way."

(The emotions that had invoked in him... weren't to be dwelled on. Not out in public.)

But it meant he was given a free viewing of the torturously long, circuitous and mind-bogglingly slow relationship developing between you and Vincent, "former" Turk. The subtle glances when he thought you weren't looking, the care with which he pulled out your seat for you, the active listening skills that Tseng wished he could put to more serious uses than knowing when your birthday was and what your favorite flowers were. All of it pointed to obvious adoration, and though you clearly felt similarly, there were always overlooked chances that made Tseng clench his teeth on his words, trying to maintain his low profile in what could easily become a much less welcoming space to him if he wasn’t careful. Rufus needed his eyes and ears in here.

Tonight, though... he's finally had enough. Any more hours of pining sighs and tender glances from the corner of an eye and he just might do something much stupider than what he plans instead, discreetly speaking with Tifa beforehand. It's easier to pull stunts when the bartender is on one's side, and it doesn’t surprise him that she's just as aware of the mutual pining between her friends, though she's not entirely sure his plan is going to work. He uses calm confidence to his advantage to persuade her.

The evening carries on, Vincent Valentine arrives after sunset to quietly find his way to your usual corner of the bar - and stops dead in his tracks when he finds Tseng in his normal seat, quietly conversing with you like he might a friend.

Tonight Tseng has adapted with an aura of understated confidence and charm, subtle but effective in provoking smiles and giggles from you. His stoicism is set aside for soft smiles and warm little laughs at your jokes, and when crimson catches his peripheral vision he only offers a brief look and a raised brow, dark eyes meeting red and offering a challenge. Make your move already, or I just might beat you to it.

To his satisfaction, he sees a jealous spark light up in Vincent’s eyes.

"It was lovely talking with you," Tseng says casually, "but there's work waiting for me in the morning. Do enjoy your evening, won't you?"

"Aw, alright. See you tomorrow?" you ask, a hint of hopefulness in your voice, and Tseng has to give you another smile for that even as Vincent’s presence grows closer and the hairs on the back of his neck begin to stand with an atavistic response to the other. He masks that feeling with ease.

"I'll be heading to Junon, unfortunately," he lies smoothly, "but perhaps next week."

He has one last move to finish his plan out, sliding out of the booth as you pout a little and continuing to ignore Vincent while he steps over by your side to offer his hand. You blink with confusion but take the offered hand, and find yourself blushing but giggling again as he raises your knuckles to his lips and presses a chaste kiss there. Tseng can actually feel the aura beginning to radiate off Vincent in response, heavy and seething like a storm cloud full of static charge just waiting to unleash its fury. The reassurance that Tifa wouldn't let the man attack him here is a faint comfort when they all know full well what he's capable of.

Then he lets go, steps back, and makes calm eye contact with Vincent as he walks past, offering just a slight inclination of his head. If looks could kill, Tseng would already be dead twice over.

Maybe now this "former" Turk will finally take his shot, now that he's been given incentive.

[anonzentimes]

hi zen!! my friends and i are doing a powerpoint night this monday and like any self-respecting person almost 7 months deep in a dangan hyperfixation (i'm never getting out of here) i am using it as a platform for an all-encompassing kmhn infodump. this powerpoint is going to be the komahina bible and i want to hit Every Stop. i will grab everything i can find. no hesitation. however !! the danganronpa franchise is A Lot. so there's always a chance i will miss something. so! as a fellow kmhn understander and enthusiast, is there any particular Komahina Moment or piece of analysis you feel people often miss or overlook? could be big or small, or involve just one of the two of them, but i'd appreciate the input! <3 have a good one :D

OH MY GOD??? I’LL TRY TO ANSWER IN TIME FOR YOUR POWERPOINT LMAO THAT SOUNDS AWESOME?????? You should record it! Well, you probably will, but I’m still saying it anyways just in case you aren’t, because something that fun going unrecorded sounds like a tragedy!

I’ve had ideas of doing all encompassing komahina rambles for a video or something, but I’m already working on other projects so It’ll be a long time before I even try lmao. Makes me happy someone is trying something similar, and with friends no less! I’d be happy to help in any way I can, I hope you and your friends have fun! :D

ANYWAYS. I’ll say a huge ramble of Komahina things and hope it helps LOL.

This is more of a silly statement, but for a FULL Komahina coverage I think it’s most satisfying to cover the different flavors of komahina, if that makes sense? Like, depending on what approach you’re taking you may not cover kamukoma, since to a degree that’s an entirely different ship, but you’d still cover the canon adjacent other flavors. Basically, try including the canon adjacent variations!!! The Dangan island events are good for analyzing their dynamic with less horrible circumstances bringing them to worst and causing them to hurt each other. The stage plays are also great to mention since there’s some komahina content that is play original, and seeing them physically interact is fun! Can’t forget the Komahina CD too Lol. There’s also smaller things like their anniversary outfits, especially the matching purple ones, their animal outfits, and their Danganronpa S Swimsuits!

Little details that are so special to me are things like the parallel of Nagito waking Hajime up being reserved in Danganronpa 2.5, and there’s also how things like Hajime’s grief for Nagito that’s so compelling, special, and telling about their dynamic.

I think my main thing to actually add on properly is that, a lot of people say Hajime hates Nagito which is absolutely incorrect. I don’t think I’d try so hard or care enough to revive and or wait until a person I hated woke up. Hajime displays he actively cares a lot, they just happen to feel hurt and betrayed by each other due to the circumstances. Komahina is unhealthy but it isn’t toxic, if that phrase makes sense. The beauty of it is that they grow TO be healthier, they learn to love each other, understand each other, and in the process learn to understand and love themselves. Komahina is reciprocal, it gets unhealthy due to circumstances, but it is reciprocal and the beauty of it is them becoming healthier together.

Nagito is not a malicious psychopath, and Hajime is not an overly horny person with no personality, I see them misinterpreted and characterized like that constantly It’s ridiculous. Hajime is awkward, conflicted, introverted, caring, and tries to be positive but ultimately is usually a realist. Hajime gets attached to people easily and deals with discrimination, insecurity, and self esteem. Hajime is relatable enough to where he’s empathetic but unique enough to where he’s special.

Nagito is a mentally ill queer coded man who is an antagonist and an anti-hero. He is morally gray when it comes to his unhealthy coping mechanism and has complicated beliefs, he’s honest, intelligent, struggles with insecurity, struggles with self esteem, has absolute beliefs influenced by hope’s peak, is a parallel and warped version of Makoto while being his own person, and he’s very sweet. Nagito’s love language seems to be mostly playful teasing, he rambles a lot and weirds people out just by saying what he thinks is fact. He has tonal issues and usually isn’t self aware, despite this he also worries about the impression he gives off if he thinks it matters. His beliefs are very hierarchy based and he thinks he’s all the way at the bottom, he doesn’t absolutely hate people like him but he thinks they have no purpose other than to help those more capable and projects onto them. Nagito is a very complex character, he is numb to intense situations due to the immense trauma of it being normal for him. He’s optimistic but also pessimistic, he’s positive but also incredibly anxious, he’s well intentioned but also thinks anything is okay if it’s for hope, there’s a lot to Nagito but in the end once it clicks it really clicks. He is contradictory in a way that perfectly makes sense, creating the perfect character. There’s a lot to him but when you understand him there’s no need for words, you just get it. There’s a feeling to him, an understanding, and I think that’s really special. He really is amazing.

Anyways, the ramble on summarizing both of their characters simply is to more expand on points about their dynamic! Nagito and Hajime are sides of the same coin. Nagito is irrational when it comes to Hajime in the way that he defies his normal behaviors because he usually avoids others and thinks he’s not worth the ultimates time, it means so much to me that Nagito just immediately had a feeling and connection with him. I’ve seen some people not think about it, but genuinely Komaeda feels something upon first sight and it’s irrational given his regular behavior it’s so sweet.

This has been just a lot of me rambling, but hopefully some of it helps! I had fun yapping haha, thanks for you ask!

[lifblogs]

A Shift in the Galaxy

Neurodivergent Tech Week 2024 Day 2: Comfort Person @neurodivergent-tech-week

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Word Count: 1424 Summary: Tech writes a letter to Crosshair after fleeing Kamino, a letter he will never send. Crosshair finds it after Tech's death. WARNINGS: Canon Compliant Character Death, Grief, Heavy Angst READ ON AO3

Crosshair,

I am not quite sure why I am doing this as you will never see it, but… talking to the others seems… hard. We’re always so busy now being on the run from… well, from you, I suppose. Though…

It’s not really you, is it?

I have to tell myself it’s not. I have to look at the facts, put things in order. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one doing so. Hunter is… You know him. He likes to keep moving forward, and keep moving forward, putting things behind him without analyzing, or taking another look because he has to think about his squad.

And I can’t accept that.

I can’t accept that this is you.

Things just don’t add up. They don’t feel right, like the entire galaxy has shifted its place in the universe.

Order 66 went out. That happened. And you tried to follow it. You tried to execute that padawan we were helping without provocation, without good cause.

That’s not you.

You like to sit and think, you like to act carefully, and with the utmost precision. I know you do.

It was as if part of your mind was overridden. Just not all of it.

You were harsher.

You were angrier, especially with Hunter.

You wanted to distance yourself.

You were taken from our cell.

What were you taken for, I wonder?

I suppose we never did find out, though I have a few horrible hypotheses. (Experimentation, perhaps?)

Thinking about it turns my stomach, it makes me all tense. I wish I could have done something to stop whatever had happened from happening. Yet, I believe I am supposed to think about you being taken from our cell. It is another fact to add to this complicated situation. Another fact to add to the list that suggests you didn’t actually want us taken captive, or dead. Another fact to add to the list that suggests you are not well, that you are not yourself.

I worry about myself sometimes—the inhibitor chip. What if mine activates? What will I do? And what of the others?

Will I do what you did? Will they?

Are you… still in there?

Are you alive, Crosshair?

Or is it just the Empire now?

What did they do to you?

I find it ironic that you were the person I always went to when I needed comfort. Your steady silence was supportive, a strength that I think others might overlook. I need you right now, but I need you because you’re not here. How funny is that? Though, funny isn’t the right word. This isn’t funny at all.

This is…

I am…

I am afraid.

But I hope you are okay. I hope the Empire isn’t hurting you, causing you even more harm. I hope you’re still in there somewhere. I hope you can fight this.

I miss you.

I’m not exactly supposed to talk about it, I don’t think. There’s so much else we need to discuss that conversations about you are quickly ended. And we have Omega to look after, after all. I know she barely knew you, but she seems to miss you too. I find comfort in that—in knowing that I am not alone in caring for you now. I wish you knew you were a person who could be loved, that you could accept that you are in fact a person like the rest of us, with needs and feelings. (Or are you even that anymore? I don’t have enough data to analyze the situation. I feel like I am looking at a gaping hole where evidence should be, where answers should lie. Where are the facts? The numbers? I grasp for them, but what is there to hold on to?)

I know Hunter misses you. He just won’t say it. I hope someday you can believe that he did, that he didn’t want this for us, for you. I think he has to keep going because if he looks back at Kaller, at you being taken from our cell, then he will believe he failed, that he wasn’t the leader we all needed him to be.

He still is, in my opinion. I believe Hunter is a great leader, and I know at the end of the day you carry this belief as well. Or you did. Perhaps, somewhere in there…?

On Kamino we had had difficult choices to make, and we’d had to make them quickly. You have to understand, we could not have stayed. Not even for you.

My heart clenches as I type these words.

I would have liked to stay for you, perhaps. But it would not have been the ideal situation. The Empire would have hurt me too, would have hurt all of us. They would have made me lose myself, like we lost you. And I do not believe in them. I cannot. I refuse to. How can you…? Can you…? No, the inhibitor chip. It’s the inhibitor chip.

My wish was that you could have come with us, that maybe we could have helped you.

Even now I am trying to collect the right data so I can build a scanner for the inhibitor chips, to—I don’t know—perhaps remove them.

Is that possible?

I hope it is.

I miss you.

I want you back.

We… we have your armor and your gear, by the way. I hope we can have the chance to return it to you someday.

I feel unmoored without you here, like there’s something missing for me to lean on. It’s… lonely, despite being around the others all the time.

Whatever you’re doing, wherever the Empire has you, I hope you’re okay.

That’s all I want.

I just want you to be okay.

And if being okay means you don’t need us anymore, then I… I will try to understand.

Just please be safe. Be careful.

The Empire is dangerous.

I fear it will consume us all.

— Tech

The words on the datapad blurred before Crosshair’s eyes, and his legs lost all their strength. He collapsed hard, sitting on a rock, breath forced out of him.

He bowed his head, putting a hand over his eyes.

And he couldn’t breathe.

Why couldn’t he breathe?

It was then that he realized he was letting out harsh, ragged sobs, ripping right through his throat from his chest, tearing its way out of him, stealing his breath, his life.

He knew he had been Tech’s comfort person, had known since they were little cadets. And he had loved the moments where Tech sat with him, leaning against him, sometimes talking, sometimes just doing his own thing. Crosshair had never needed to say much to make Tech feel better.

To think that he had needed him, and he’d been…

Crosshair knew that the inhibitor chip wasn’t his fault, but the rest of it…

And yet Tech had thought of him, had written to him, had cared, had wanted him to know that the others cared too.

Now Tech was gone—a gaping hole in Crosshair’s life, a wound in his torso so large he didn’t know how he was alive some days.

His last memories had been of them on Kamino, of Crosshair wanting to be left behind. Why had he done that? He knew why. He’d had his reasons. And they all felt so stupid now. The time he’d squandered, the distance he’d put between himself and his brothers.

Tech had died trying to save him.

Tech had written to him.

Tech had cared.

And Crosshair had thrown that all away, had shoved Tech and his family so far from him it was like they had been in different galaxies, separated by his own actions, his own feelings. His own idiocy.

Crosshair had made Tech need him, and he hadn’t been there, hadn’t been able to comfort him.

For one devastating, fleeting—perhaps cruel—moment, Crosshair thought he could feel Tech leaning against him, could feel Tech seeking comfort from him. Then it was gone. He was gone.

Crosshair was all alone, nothing but birdsong, and crashing waves to fill his emptiness.

He hugged the datapad to his chest, and sobbed till the world seemed to rip apart.

Tech had been right: there had been a shift in the galaxy, and now it was missing one of its most incredible lifeforms. The galaxy was a lesser place for not having Tech in it, and Crosshair worried, that he was a lesser person without his brother.

[daystarvoyage]

Hello owl fans, I wanted to give my critical breakdown on When I first watched Owl House, now rewatching it, looking back at a well known character in

This very 3 part topic focusing on

Everyone's fan favorite Amity who I like to call

(Little Miss Self Insert) Amity analysis & why she’s popular

Literally the same (Real) hair color as the creator

DISCLAIMER THIS IS NOT AN ATTACK ON THE CREATOR But a Critic that could benefit the show & educate viewers, POC, BIPOC (Bi meaning black indigenous, Person of color) REP,

(don't Hate appreciate), if ya can't Face different opinions or anyone with an open mind who can critic just being nasty/policing people, There's the Portal Door to outer space.

Ok aight Lets start to this 3 PART topic post

I indeed love my run of Amity as a character because she made an impactful LGBTQ show great, along with her endeavor on how she developed as a character. ( Also Green Hair AMity is Better.) because she had great drive melding her into the person she is, having to face her parents, falling in loving with luz.

Due to the high demand being a lgbt character at times, (even though we been starved and wanting more rep) has at times repercussions and flaws,if the writing, narrative & pacing is compromised in the show which shown after rewatching the series ANOTHER TOPIC.

I'm fully aware that she's a well-known fan favorite character ever since the show's green light along the panel interview with Dana Terrace hyped her up during the debut panel of the other shark cartoon she worked on, DOWN BELOW

After Rewatching the show I felt there was more to her then just being luz girlfriend,

(like other characters to never get there titular moments at time like the Hexside students.)

and how she was written in a one-sided straight forward manner which people overlook cause we had proud lgbt content to gush over, googling, blushing eyes and the creator saying no romance in the series yet we have a two girls hogging peoples potential and spotlight?!

which contributed to her name trending more & talked about compared to our main POC character (which I find weird & Staggering at times.)

Theres proof from a Good post on here THATS IMPORTANT BELOW

Now we got that outta the way 3 major reasons LETS GO

The Favoritism

I feel the favoritism in fandom really says about how the show reacts TO OUR favorite characters, yes a world and great characters can be executed in titular episodes or moment you can let them see shine,

but diving into the season 1 of the show had its Rocky start till they started the real action in season 2 not to mention the kiss scene which put everyone on good edge however hogged (a titular poc spotlight.)

There's proof on how poc people in real life are depicted in media as something negative and gross yet caucisian people are giving everything handed to them in a silver spoon.

so here's a article ill bring up cause these types of behavior says in how poc see ourselves

Heck thats how we got that lumity controversial pic

(IF YA KNOW YA KNOW)

ill pull up with article on black media effects real life

I truly did feel the intent on the show at times was made selfishly at times,

Which there's a link about a unique article that sheds some light on this situation on how it treated Amity and why she was made into a self inset character. Showing relationship run throughout the show.

you can be able to write a good cartoon series and make an impact on fans, spilling your life on the show you care being in there shoes,

However don't let it sacrificed the many aspects excusing plots, and narrative with tonal whiplash & poor characterization.

Hope Your here with me now lets get on to

Shipping discourse

these girls took over the whole world by storm, to the point the fandom only cares about these girls, nothing beyond,

(social media numbers don’t lie on searched characters and many aspects on the owl house.)

if not them but solely for Amity herself. which I felt really was a selfish writing move. Cause I really did love the character until she was written good however shoehorned to being a hollow shel of herself and discourse did no favors.

It irks me to no end cause we have a prominent poc character said previously, who gets not talked about a yet amity is the one y’all favor to? At the point y’all really don’t show y’all don’t care about black, Poc, or BIPOC and there contributions to media.

it pains me to see a show like this has been nothing but a whole show of contradictions and ill-pacing,

And i know why we stand with the ship or any sexuality reveal with any character to gain a following or popularity for that matter is this a good term of how we gotten lgbt media uprising

(which I understand we crave years ago. )

PERFORMATIVE SEXUALITY (Article & Term HERE .)

Not to mention the celebrity worship yall put onto amity herself which is responsible for it

Where gonna make this quick so last session and hoep you have a good one afterwards thanks

The Colorism Issue (Glad fans are speaking out)

Its just facts that we see white or white-passing as something to be congratulated and praised for compared to what poc go through cause we POCs & myself have to work tens time harder for what we want, (one issue for another session is?)

WHY IS THE NOCEDA FAMILY HAVE DIFFERENT SKINTONES?!

FIX IT Titan

For media especially Disney has treated Poc if not BIPOC IN live action if not animation to an extent is degrading, you have kids on jessie acting any way without severe repercussions such as how they Treat BIpoc Characters with utmost disrespect. Which is shown throughout our favorite shows. (also shows how the show loves it kids cause it suffers no consequences.)

Now May wonder why i put in Princess & The Frog

We do see great chemistry to the show and movie example

The similar girl dynamic that will be is Tianna and charlotte

There relationship is done better, I do feel there was little bit of colorism played into this and alas not to mention tiana poc friends characters being black but non existing, however I do feel to a agree they really stretched on how we should have diversity in a negative way which I’ll get into in a sec.

Its at this point charlotte is the sweet spoiled girl and felt amity was favored cause of how she was written that way, they tried to make her favorable because you guess or see she’s WHITE.

Which shows not only poc characters are secondary in animation or forms of media, also how Luz is written in a white space, but with amity

She was gonna be depicted as a favorable one cause of how she was written LIKE CHARLOTTE

(To the point people started seeing charlotte as the main character form princess & the frog.)

Having the cultural representation & also inconsistent characterization shine to the point where we could’ve had great characters shown and debut yet

Have two girls take over the show as a whole really?!

oh reminder the diversity happen yet being sacrificed for a shoehorned lgbt content and activism to the degree it over whlems the show with

amity being a type of reverse mammy to make her look better for luz to counter her spicy latina ways, like a unruly tomboy to kiss the white favored girls booty, knowing full well the fandom will police anyone saying otherwise.

The article I’ll show about gearing our diverse audiences which I feel Disney needs to do a lot better on cultural representation, and harmful stereotypes as this.

ARTICLE ON HOW STEREOTYPES CAN BE IN MEDIA

Hoping I said it well, since there's so much to add to this however hope we can be reasonable on the comment section, so hoping we can have a civil discuss on about this topic thanks for reading this far you have a goodnight and great day where you are

with love kyoko cane

[weaveandwood]

The Snake and The Crow: Realizations

Pairing: The Viper x Female Rook (Bianca, an Antivan Crow mage) Words: 4.8K Rating: NSFW! (smut!)

Summary:

Bianca comes through the eluvian injured, refusing healing potions. Ashur helps her, and the two continue their evening the way they usually do.

AN: As always, my smut chapters can be read as a one shot, though you'll have a better understanding of the turmoil if you've been following along! I have been committed to weekly posting on a certain day for this fic but missed my deadline for the first time since beginning TSaTC. After almost 5 years of working from home 100% of the time, on Monday we were ordered back in office 100% of the time. I am exhausted and my free time is almost zero now. That said I am still committing to update the fic on a weekly basis, just not on a set day.

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Read on AO3! Previous Chapter

DOCK TOWN, THREE DAYS BEFORE THE DRAGON ATTACK

He would be lying if he said the time between her visits wasn’t getting harder and harder to bear. If he said he didn’t look forward to the latest hours of the evening when the hideout was almost empty. If he said he didn’t count down the minutes to when she would be in his arms once more. If he said he was able to focus on anything but mental images replaying through his mind—visions of her on the desk where he tried to reply to letters, on the sofa where he tried to relax, against the wall where he hung his coat and hat. He’d be lying if he said he minded it. 

He waited, as always, in the eluvian room, his mind wandering. If the hideout was completely empty he would suggest staying in here, making her come in front of the windows overlooking the ocean, his name ringing out over Minrathous as she reached the highest peaks of her pleasure. Maybe someday he would force everyone to leave. He laughed to himself at the thought as he thumbed through a stack of missives, each one detailing an injustice being done to slaves, the poor, the non-magical. It never ended. Some days it felt like they never made a dent, that they would never be able to make meaningful change here. He sighed, setting the missives down for the night. He was distracting himself from the important mission that was soon to be laying in front of him. 

As if on cue, the eluvian activated, the pale light shimmering across its surface in ripples and waves. It never really got old, witnessing the ancient magic inside working. Her shadowed figure stepped through, though it almost seemed as if she was moving slower than normal, her movements not as graceful as he was used to. The sway in her hips was stilted, the confident posture she carried herself with now bent slightly. If he hadn’t been intimately familiar with the lines of her body both clothed and unclothed, he may have reached for his magic, ready to fight the imposter. He stood up. No, something was wrong. 

“Are you hurt?” he said, moving to her in just a few steps. He tilted her chin up gently with one hooked finger, a purple bruise blooming under her eye. His brows knit together in concern.

“You should see the other guy,” she said.

“Believe me, right now you would not want me to see the other guy,” he said, feeling the sparks within him start to dance with his growing anger, begging to be set free. “Are you limping? What happened?” 

“I’ll tell you in your office, you go ahead. I’ll get there. Eventually.” 

“There’s hardly anyone here, and I won’t let you injure yourself further if it’s unnecessary. I know you won’t ask for help so I’m apologizing in advance for this,” he said as he picked her up, a wince on her face and a hiss sounding in his ear from being jostled suddenly. She was more injured than she was letting on.

“Ashur someone will see and then—”

“I don’t care. You’re hurt.” He wouldn’t tell her that the secret was basically out anyways, at least among the Shadow Dragons. He wouldn’t tell her about the looks others gave him, especially when Bianca and her team were in Dock Town during the day or when he came out of his office in the mornings. He wouldn’t tell her Tarquin figured it out weeks ago. He wouldn’t tell her he didn’t mind if everyone in Thedas knew, no matter how dangerous that was. Her arms wrapped around his neck, the magic within him surging to the spots their skin connected. It longed to be near her as much as he did. 

So much for no strings attached.

“What happened?” He asked once safely inside the confines of his office, setting her down gently on his desk. He crouched in front of her, removing his mask and setting it on the chair. She smiled softly when she saw his face, as she always did, reaching out to touch his cheek. He leaned into her touch, as always.

“Antaam. I’ll admit I never really fought them hand to hand much in Treviso—it’s much easier to kill them when they are asleep or with some well-placed poison in their wine barrels. A group surprised us in the Crossroads and we weren’t prepared for it.” 

Antaam in the Crossroads—that didn’t sound like good news at all. 

“No healing potions?” he asked, his thumb lightly tracing the edge of the bruise under her eye that was growing more and more purple by the minute.

“The others needed them more. We were incredibly outmatched,” she said quietly, something flashing in her eyes. “It was…close.”

“Do you not know any healing magic? Surely a faction of assassins would be taught to heal themselves.” He teased, looking up at her. He  couldn’t imagine the Crows could be that cutthroat. 

“You would think so, but for some reason we are only trained on taking life,” she laughed softly, then winced. “If you get injured enough that you can’t make it back, then you’ve failed your mission and deserve whatever fate befalls you. Some of the other mage Crows learned healing magic on their own, but…my sparks and fire were more suitable for destruction, and I was trained for that.” Apparently the Crows were that cutthroat. Tarquin would have a field day with that information if he ever told him. He could hear it now, how dangerous it was to be with Bianca—that no matter how good she felt, it was an invitation for disaster, practically begging to be at the mercy of these assassins. At times he couldn’t reconcile the Bianca who would kill people for gold with the one who sat in front of him now who was taking shallow breaths to avoid whatever pain her ribs were causing her simply because someone else needed a healing potion more. Her magic may have been trained for destruction, but its wielder had one of the most beautiful souls he’d ever met, capable of so much good. It was obvious to him why she was recruited to help save them all. He hoped she knew this. If not, he would make her see. 

“I’ll get you some potions, wait here.” He started to stand. The Shadows kept a stockpile of healing potions ready and waiting. One never knew when the Venatori would show up and he would never allow them to suffer the same fate as the Crows. Every member mattered.

“No, really, it’s fine. Give me a couple days, and I’ll be relatively good as new. Just a little sore and multicolored,” she laughed, then winced again. She tried so hard to disguise the pain she was in but he knew her body too well for that. “Save them for people who really need them. Please.”  He also knew her mind well enough that she would never take anything if someone else could potentially need it more. It was one of the things that kept drawing him to her. 

“Allow me, then,” he whispered. “Please.” He closed his eyes as he touched his fingers to her cheekbone. He felt the coolness of his frost move into her body, calming the swelling there, lessening the blooming bruise and taking away the pain. As the Chant had been drilled into his head since childhood, so had the ability to heal—supposedly to help the sick and the poor, but in reality only those who reached the highest stratosphere of society were deemed acceptable to lay his divine gift upon. It sickened him every time he healed an altus mage of some minor blemish, knowing ten slaves or soporati were dying in Dock Town. A part of him wanted to walk away from it all, but the hope that one day things would be different and that he would be a part of it made him stay. It was all that kept him going some days when he was wading through chest-deep waters, murky with corruption.

“So not only is The Viper an emancipator of slaves, killer of Venatori, a keen strategist, and an excellent lover, he also can heal people? No wonder the Venatori are so intent on finding him,” she smiled, that teasing tone back in her voice he loved so much. He tried not to dwell on the fact that she called him an excellent lover, though he knew it would run through his mind the rest of the evening and all day tomorrow. “Is there anything you can’t do?” 

“Get you to take a healing potion, apparently,” he laughed. His hands moved to the closure of the ratty robes she wore as a disguise. The seams were fraying, the edges were stained. Why didn’t he give her a better one? She deserved it, even though he knew she would never take it, giving the excuse that it would just be on the floor most of the time anyways. She wouldn’t be wrong. Every minute she was in these robes was a minute too long. “May I?” 

“Trying to get me naked?” 

“Trying to heal your injuries. You being naked is a side benefit,” he said, kissing her softly as he unfastened the robes and slid them off her shoulders to pool behind her on his desk. His gaze raked over her bared chest, taking in her injuries—more bruises on her side, a burn by her feathered scars, a cut on her stomach. He also noticed her nipples, hardening as he looked her over. He longed to take them into his mouth, to replace her pain with pleasure. Heal first , he thought. It was so easy to think she was invincible, but she was just as mortal as any of them. 

“Neither man nor Maker shall forget your bravery,” he whispered in prayer before placing his lips gently on a bruise over her collarbone. His fingers trailed after, cooling magic surging through him into her, healing each bruise, soothing her burns, knitting together each cut, each cracked rib as they traced a light path over her skin. The magic reached through her body, dancing with her sparks and flirting with her flames to ease her injuries as well as he could without the aid of elfroot potion. It wouldn’t be perfectly healed, but it would be enough. He heard her sigh. 

“Your magic feels good,” she said quietly, her eyes closed and her breaths slow. “Soothing.”

“Good,” he whispered, his fingers tracing the outline of her body, the cool magic giving her goosebumps as he healed her. 

“Tell me, do you kiss everyone you heal, or am I just special?”

“Funny. Now, let me see you walk,” he said, helping her stand. She walked to the sofa, the familiar sway of her hips and her catlike gait returned. His eyes were drawn as always to the line of her back, the movement of her shoulders, the way her wings looked as if she could take flight at any moment. Would she take him with her?

“See? All better,” she said before turning to face him. He watched her hook her fingers into the waistband of her leggings, pushing them off her hips to pool at the floor before stepping out of them. “But you should probably check to see if you missed anything. If there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you are a very thorough man.” 

Maker, he prayed to himself as he stepped to her, his hands on her waist, thumbs tracing slow circles under her breasts, how did I deserve this blessing? He kissed her shoulder, stepping around her, his hands blazing a slow and winding path across her hips, across the firmness of her backside, up her spine between her feathers. He moved closer, his growing hardness pressing into her while she arched back into him. 

“You’re perfect.” 

“Then take off your clothes so I can repay you.” He could hear the smile in her voice. 

“And if I wanted to appreciate my handiwork some more?” he whispered before kissing the junction of her neck and shoulder. Her head tilted to the side and she let out a soft sigh. He knew she had her eyes closed and a soft smile on her face. She always did when he kissed just the right location. Just a bit further up and she would melt into him. 

“You keep doing that and you can admire all you want, but it would be more fun if you were naked, don’t you think?” she responded, pressing her hips back into him. He couldn’t contain the groan that escaped his lips. 

“I think you’re right,” he whispered, gathering her curls to the side. He kissed his way up the soft skin to her earlobe, flicking it with his tongue before biting it gently. She gasped, the intake of breath sharp and sudden, sending a jolt through him and making him even harder for her. How did she always manage to do this to him? He was supposed to be healing her, and all he could think about was laying her on the sofa and taking her hard enough to break it. He needed her, urgently. Wasting no more time, his many layers of clothing soon joined her leggings in a heap on the floor.

She turned, running her hands over his bare chest, tracing the scars that crossed his tanned skin, relics of a youth spent getting into fights he couldn’t yet win due to misplaced anger and refused to heal to exert a modicum of control over his own life. Others had treated them as imperfections for one of his upbringing—blemishes against perfection, flaws to always hide away and always cover. Tonight, as she placed a gentle kiss on them, whatever shame he may have held toward them had disappeared entirely. He was grounded, made real by her touch when so many wanted him on a pedestal, out of reach—an idea, not a man. He was always just a man with her, and wanted nothing more.

“Much better,” she smiled. Her hand wrapped around him sent his sparks dancing, and he could not help the buckle in his knees as she slowly stroked him up and down, tormenting him along each inch, across the swollen head. He tilted her chin up to him and kissed her deeply, his tongue dancing with hers, his palm covering her breast. How could someone so strong and so fierce be so soft at the same time? He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, feeling it get even harder for him. What he wouldn’t give to have it in his mouth right now. 

She bit his bottom lip and he swore he saw stars. 

“Sit,” she said, motioning with her head to the sofa. He obeyed, as he always did with her. The one person in all of Thedas who could ask anything of him and he would gladly say yes, no questions asked. He watched with anticipation as she stood between his legs, kissing him deeply before pulling away far too quickly. She moved down his body, her lips worshipping him as so many attempted to do, though in a wholly different way. His body jolted with a flick of her tongue across his nipple, he groaned as she lowered herself to her knees between his, he closed his eyes and sent every prayer he had to the Maker when he felt the slow drag of her tongue up the length of him. 

“Bianca,” he whispered to the ceiling, replacing his prayers to the Maker and Andraste with only her name. He felt her lips wrap around him, her mouth warm and wet . He wouldn’t tell her how often he thought of her in this position, a supplicant to him, though he knew she was far greater than he ever could be. He opened his eyes, watching her—her hand and mouth working in tandem, her deep blue eyes focused on him as he started to rock his hips slowly. Slow waves of desire crested into deeper waves of pleasure, settling low within him. He reached out, tucking her curls behind her pointed ear so nothing would block this view. She hummed against him, a smile on her lips as she slowly circled him with just the tip of her tongue before taking his length back into her mouth. He thought he might come then and there. His hips rocked faster, his breathing labored. 

“If you don’t want me to come in your mouth in about one minute…” he said, breathless and panting. Part of him wanted to see his spend on her tongue, to watch her swallow it, to kiss her afterwards and taste him on her tongue. She had done it before, and he thought about it for a week straight afterwards. Not tonight though—he found that a larger part of him wanted her close to him, off her knees and above him where she belonged. 

“Come here,” he said, taking her hand and helping her up from the floor. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, delighting in her laughter as he placed a kiss on her stomach above where a once deep purple bruise was now healed to yellow. His fingertip traced the outline of her body, the contour of her breast, the peak of her nipple, the dip of her waist, the curve of her hip. He had meant it when he said she was perfect. His hand dipped lower, through the patch of dark, soft curls at the apex of her thighs. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched him. He kept eye contact as he parted her, circling her clit softly. 

“I can’t have all the fun,” he teased, pressing harder, applying just the amount of pressure he knew she preferred. Her hands rested on his shoulders for balance as she placed her knee on his thigh, allowing him to touch exactly where he wanted. Two fingers teased at her entrance, drawing a soft moan from her lips, the sweetest music to his ears. He pressed them inside easily, his other hand on her thigh as his fingers slid in and out of her. 

“Kaffas, you’re so wet,” he moaned. He didn’t use Tevene much around outsiders, but something about how slick she was drew the curse from his lips. 

“I must really like having you in my mouth,” she smiled, her hips starting to rock against his hand as she closed her eyes. 

“You should do that more often.”

“I would, but someone is usually very eager to fuck me,” she breathed, her words more moan than anything else. His fingers curled, hitting the spot that drove her wild. He was repaid with her nails digging in his skin and a moan echoing off the walls. It only made him want to hear more. It only made him want to be inside her more. He pulled his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth and tasting her sweet desire for him. 

“Always,” he corrected, his hands on her hips guiding her forward. “Always very eager to fuck you.”

She climbed onto the sofa, her knees on either side of his thighs. He could practically feel the heat radiating off of her center, and it was driving him mad. He was no stranger to casual relationships, never placing much value in the person he was involved with past whatever diversion they could provide for the hour or so they were together. Bianca may have started out that way, but with her hips pressed against him, teasing him mercilessly as she kissed his neck, he could never go back.

He felt her fingers wrap around him, finding him hard as stone for her and already pressed against her entrance. She started to close her eyes. 

“Look at me,” he whispered, tilting her face to his with a finger under her chin. Her eyes opened and he was transfixed once more. He trailed his fingers slowly down the column of her throat, between her breasts, feeling her stomach flex as he barely grazed her skin, the cut from before a faint memory now. 

He pressed up while guiding her down, slowly entering her slick, hot core and felt her give and stretch around him. Her deep blue eyes remained fixed on his, her mouth slightly open as he pressed ever upward, inch by delightful inch. He watched the minute twitches of her eyebrows as he pressed deeper into her, he listened to the soft sighs that fell from her mouth as he fully seated himself within her. He could stay here for eternity, blighted gods and Venatori be damned. When he was inside Bianca, the world melted away and he was glad for it. 

“Maker, you feel—“ he was cut off by her hips slowly starting to rock, just barely. He fought the desire to plant his feet on the floor and fuck up into her, wanting to be gentle for once. He didn’t know if it was because of her injuries or something else that had been growing deep inside him for weeks now, but at this moment he didn’t press his thoughts further. His hands remained on her hips, letting her set the pace, though this felt like the sweetest torture. “You may be the death of me,” he smiled, “if you keep that up.” 

“Well, I don’t want that,” she smiled at him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply as she rocked her hips more deliberately, the friction between them and the feeling of her tongue against his making his magic stir. He could feel his sparks flowing through his body, toward wherever she touched him. He wondered, as he often did, if hers did the same—if the lightning within her wanted to be near him as badly as his longed to be near her, if her sparks and his frost yearned to be beside each other though it seemed impossible. He groaned into her mouth as her hips moved against him, her hard nipples brushing against his chest bringing him out of his musings. 

He broke the kiss to watch her ride him. The rhythm of her body was hypnotic and he couldn’t keep his hands off her. She leaned her head back as he started rocking up into her, slowly, as if neither of them were in a hurry. As if they had nothing else but this moment for all eternity. One hand went to her breast, rolling a hard nipple between his fingers while the other hand traced her throat, feeling the vibrations of her moans. He wanted to feel the vibrations that made out his name, the ones that made out the sound of the heights of her pleasure. 

For a long while, the two of them remained that way, slow languid movements coupled with soft moans and whispers of the other’s name filling the empty space in his office. He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close so there was no space between them, only sweat-slicked skin against sweat-slicked skin. He held her as he planted his feet on the floor like he wanted to earlier, thrusting up into her deeply, slowly, deliberately. He felt her move her hips in tandem with his, waves of pleasure coursing through his body. From the noises she was making, he could only assume she felt as good as he did. What a far cry from how she came to him that night. 

He pressed his lips against her, the raised edges of her scars and the slight salt of her skin only adding to his desire, her soft pants of “more, more…” against his ear sending him closer and closer to the edge. He wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to hold out. 

“What do you want, Bianca?” he whispered against her pointed ear. 

“Make me come, Ashur…please.” She nipped at his earlobe. 

He groaned softly, wrapping his arms around her even more tightly. His fingertips dug into her back as he grasped at her, desperate for her to be even closer to him. It would never be enough, she would be gone too soon and he would be alone once more. Even two days was too long. He leaned back and began to quicken his thrusts, punctuated by a kiss against her throat, a bite on her shoulder, a tug of her hair as his fingers threaded through it. He could feel her starting to tighten, her body tensing up and becoming still against him. He looked up at her and he was breathless. Her eyes closed, the lighting playing off her curls, the flush of her skin as she reached her peak—he had never seen anyone more beautiful than her, right now. She was made to be worshipped, she was holy, she was everything. He trailed his hand back from her hair to the column on her throat once more, feeling her soft pants, the vibrations of her moaning. 

“Ashur, I—” she was cut off as he thrust into her deeply, roughly, hitting her just how she needed. He felt her pulse quicken in her throat as she cried out without a care who heard her. He pressed his lips against it, feeling her fluttering heartbeat like it was a butterfly in a cage much too small. Her body collapsed into his while waves and waves of pleasure washed over her, whispers of “come for me” in his ear. 

It only took him a few quick thrusts before the tension tightening and tightening low in his abdomen was finally released, his moans muffled by pressed lips against scarred skin. He spilled into her as she pulsed around him, the both of them riding out their orgasms clinging to each other. 

The two stayed entwined for several minutes after, neither wanting to be the one to break the spell they were under, where it was only them and this room, nothing else. The rest of the world didn’t matter. He brushed a curl that was stuck to her forehead back with the rest of them. He would never tire of rearranging her wild curls—whether that be back into place or messing them up while his hands were tangled in them, pulling her head back to kiss him while he took her from behind. She traced the faint scars that ran through his eyebrow down his cheek, placing a kiss on them just as she did the ones on his chest. 

As all good things do, the night had to come to an end. Bianca slowly got dressed, stalling as if she didn’t want to leave. He wouldn’t complain. He helped her put on her robe after using his healing magic on her once more. Just in case, he said. He pressed a kiss into her shoulder, against her neck, and finally, against her lips, each one with a prayer for protection running through his mind.

He watched as she stepped through the eluvian, giving him one small wave before the pale light swallowed her and she disappeared once more. He leaned against the wall in the eluvian room and looked out over the sea, a missive in his hand but his mind on her once more. He wondered what it would be like to have her with him for more than a few hours every other night. To not have to hide their entanglement, no matter how bad he was at it, and no matter how dangerous it was. He wondered what it would be like to attach just a few strings between themselves that could lead to more strings until they were hopelessly bound to each other. He wondered if she felt similarly, if it could be a topic broached the next time they were together. A plan formed in his head—a change of scenery. 

A quick series of images flashed through his head, ones that could never happen, no matter how much he wanted them to. Her, with him, always. In every facet of his life—no secrets, no gods, no Venatori. Her, walking down an aisle to him. Her, in his bed. Her, fighting alongside him with the Shadows. Her, belly swollen and laughing in the sun. Her, every day, forever. A future. 

The truth was simple, he realized, no matter how often he tried to shove it down and lie to himself and everyone else. 

He loved her.

[charliespringverse]

i've touched on this before but like . i really do think rowan's feelings get accidentally overlooked by readers that ,,, Aren't a bit obsessed and rereading for the nth time

and it's understandable because the version we primarily get of rowan is fereshteh's warped fanon & jimmy's longtime best friend mental illness riddled descriptions . and Because jimmy is unwell he almost idolises rowan in a way that holds him up as a pillar of stability and permanence — which is what jimmy needs and it's not a wholly negative thing, but he also inadvertently fails to accept any evidence to the contrary

whereas with lister we Learn a lot because jimmy is learning a lot — through deeper-than-usual conversations or blatant cries for help or very revealing behaviours — we don't get to discover anything new about rowan, and so when he's kinda mean or angry or distrusting it's easy to misinterpret that as him being deliberately and needlessly nasty

but if you stop looking at him through jimmy's lens, that boy has had an absolute bastard of a week . the jowan photo leak affects him as much as jimmy (arguably more so, because all the while he's dating bliss, jowan is an Active Lie rather than just an untruth), he's dealing with the same contract stress, his secret relationship has been exposed to the world, his girlfriend is ignoring him at a really difficult time, he's watching his two closest friends fall apart, he's learning that he really doesn't know one of them very well at all, his best friend is missing, the other is definitely an alcoholic making no moves to resolve that, his girlfriend has dumped him, he feels like they (and bliss) are being stalked by a member of a group he already feels like he isn't safe around, he feels like he's losing the two people closest to him

and all this time he's considering himself wholly and singlehandedly responsible for fixing all of this, feeling he has to hold himself and the world together . there's no real safe space for him to unload any of this because the three people he's closest to are either dumping him or going off the rails, and the only way he's ever known how to make himself comfortable is to have complete control over a situation, which just Is Not available to him here

it's not the fault of jimmy's narration that we never get to truly sit with the extent of what's going on with rowan, and in fact it really Really adds to the themes of being unable to truly know somebody and personal perception destroying objective truth

but GOD it breaks my heart to see people say they don't care for rowan, or don't like him, because he's snappy and sweary and short with people . because that's such a natural response to having that much shit piled on top of you in under a week AND losing your only coping mechanism (in this case, taking the weight of everything and moulding it into something tangible and possible to hold)

anyway. i am a rowan omondi stan first and a human being second and WOW rowan needs therapy and jimmy needs to stop idealising him

[butchladymaria]

elden ring discourse about invaders generally goes over my head because i think overall the solution to most people’s problems would be to just… make it optional. like have a setting where you can turn invasion off. sometimes people want to just play with their friends and goof off. in my experience invaders were only ever really obnoxious because it interrupted playing with a friend, and often meant we’d have to go through the tedious process of setting up co-op mode all over again. i can’t imagine it was a good experience for invaders either — we were literally often on brand new save slots in the very beginning areas at like, level 10. we’d usually just have to sit down and wait for them to just kill us or whatever because we literally did not stand any chance with our gear at the time.

and like, its not the invader’s fault either. they literally don’t have any mechanic to let them choose who to invade based on level or progression. they don’t have a way to avoid or even TELL who doesn’t want to be invaded. i don’t think you can even easily end an invasion by choice, you have to either kill the host or die.

it’s incredibly silly to me that there’s not a way to opt-out of invasion because it would fix so many problems. people who don’t like pvp don’t have to play it. people who actively enjoy pvp and are seeking it out aren’t wasting their time against people who aren’t there or prepared for pvp. this feels so obvious i feel like i must have overlooked the setting to do this. am i missing something here?

[overalls4all]

Cameron and Alex are on day 5 of a two week masculinity retreat. The retreat was sponsored by their boss, who made every man in the office attend. Cameron and Alex were expecting typical corporate crap, but they couldn't be further from the truth. Rather than some boring conference hall, the retreat was held in a huge lakeside cabin in the mountains. The two office mates entered the house where they were greeted by a man in overalls.

"Howdy men!" the man wore duck brown overalls over a blue flannel shirt. He was in his early forties and had a rugged stubble and buzzcut hair. "Name's Cal. I run the retreat here. Your boss said to expect some nice young men like yourselves.

"Uh, thanks Cal," said Cameron. "Is our boss here already?"

"Yes he is. He's out back helping set up. You boys will go and join him after you get properly dressed," replied Cal with a warm smile.

"Oh we didn't know there was a dress code," Alex answered. "We just bought some hoodies and jeans."

"Don't you worry, boys. I have the right clothes for you in here," Cal lead the two coworkers into a side room full of rows and rows of overalls.

"I ask that all men who come to this retreat wear overalls every day. I find having a sort of uniform helps us bond together as men," Cal pulled on his overalls straps with pride as he handed the boys a pair of duck brown bibs.

Cameron and Alex exchanged confused glances. This was not what they had in mind for this retreat. They figured it would be a few boring seminars followed by a catered lunch or something. In spite of this, the two guys took off their jeans and started putting on their overalls. They both stepped into the legs, feeling the coarse material run up their sides. They felt goosbumps as they reached over their shoulder to grab their straps. Finally they could feel their own hearts beating as they held the bib to their chest and fastened the buckles.

"Now you too look like proper men!" Cal was clearly proud to see the two young men in their new overalls.

Cameron looked down at his overall and then over at Alex. Cameron never noticed before how handsome Alex was. He appeared so manly and rugged in his overalls. Little did he know, but Alex was thinking the same thing about Cameron. The two coworkers couldn't help stare at each other in their matching overalls.

Cal smiled, "I can tell there is a strong bond between you too. That's something we'll explore during our retreat. Men nowadays are missing that kinship that existed in our father's and grandfather's days. I want men to share their masculine energy again. That's why your boss brought all his male employees here. A stronger bond will produce better work. And after all, men were born to work."

Alex and Cameron took in every last of Cal's words, even as they were staring each other in overalls. Both really wanted to bond with the other, and work as a great way to bond.

"Yes, work is a great way to bond with other men," said Cameron, almost without thinking.

"I want to work more with Cameron. I want to work in overalls," added Alex.

"Then you are in the right place. Come, men," Cal lead the two overalls-clad workers out to the backyard overlooking the lake.

Outside were their boss and several other coworkers who had already arrived. Each one wore matching duck brown overalls, just like Alex and Cameron, and just like Cal. Already they were acting closer than mere coworkers, many standing with their hands around each other's shoulders or hips. Others stood tall with their hands on their overalls straps.

As Alex and Cameron approached, each man greeted them with a firm handshake and compliment on their overalls. The two newcomers responded in kind, happy to share their regards for their new favorite outfit.

The coming two weeks would be transformative. Cal led the group of employees, each dressed in matching overalls, in masculine activities, like wood-chopping, working on cars, lifting weights, and carpentry. After each day of hard masculine labor, the men would gather around in their overalls, crack open a beer, and listen as Cal gave a sermon on the importance of masculinity in today's modern world. Each day, the men would would feel prouder and prouder to be a man and to embrace overalls as the uniform for any real, proper man.

As the night came to an end, the men would pair off and return to their bunks. Alex and Cameron were bunkmates of course. They would crawl into bed together, their muscles sore from the day's laboring and their bodies still covered in their overalls. There they would continue their intimate masculine bonding as they expressed their newfound fraternal love for each other.

Now, not even a week into the retreat, Cameron and Alex have already pledged to wear only overalls once they return home. In fact, all of the workers have made the same pledge. Their boss is requiring them to wear overalls at the office too, and any new employee or intern will be required to attend Cal's retreat to be properly educated on how to be a man.

Cameron and Alex have never been happier, as they have since moved into together. Two men sharing a life full of masculine energy, united in their overalls. They have never felt such purpose and meaning. They were men in overalls, and proud of it.

[woodchipp]

Looks like the OMORI subbreddit found me lmao. I was notified of it by an ask that seems to have disappeared (Tumblr being Tumblr, ig), so I'm including a screenshot of the ask here for posterity

Whether or not Omori's judgements are grounded in reality, they don't mean Sunny should kill himself.

I didn't say that. In fact, I wanted to emphasize how absurd it is that Sunny's irrational and suicidal self-loathing makes this much sense.

The game's failure to provide solid evidence against the arguments Omori makes is a fault of the writing itself, not Sunny.

His arc is about him coming to grip with what he has done, not where he grows to be a good person. Sunny being a good friend or something isn't really important to whether he should live or die.

We don’t really get to see if Sunny really changes beyond getting the words alone out. Because that’s not the point of the game. The entirety of the game’s narrative is about finding the courage to take the first step toward real healing; it is about the act of grasping what is real, to face in the direction of reality and therefore pain, suffering, and loss, but also happiness, growth, and change. But we only get to see the initial act of facing in that direction. And that’s what makes the game so powerful, is that it explores a process that is often so overlooked or seen as just a vehicle to a different, better story. But as the saying goes, a journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. What we see is the first step, and barely that.

Why should I be invested in said arc if the game gives me no reason to root for him? That literally was the point of the post the OP linked.

Sunny feeling bad for the shitty thing he did just isn't worth getting invested into. It's a start, sure, but if he takes a roughly 25 hr game just to muster up the courage to confess to a crime, and he does so only for his own peace of mind, why should I want him to reach his peace of mind in the first place?

Mind you, this is not the same as "I want Sunny to kill himself." What I'm saying is "OMORI wants me to care about Sunny, but doesn't put in the effort to give him any sort of personality, so why should I care about whether he kills himself or not?"

I actually agree with the OG post on the claim that Sunny is an extremely passive character [...] it’s incredibly frustrating to watch, which is kinda the whole point.

"which is kinda the whole point" Never heard that one before.

I understand the point just fine. In this case, my issue is that the point is conveyed very poorly.

Sunny has lost the ability to externally express himself, and doesn’t know what to do.

He doesn't know what to do, but he can run circles around his bestie while the latter's having a breakdown just fine! weeeeeeeee

Or so it would seem. The entire point of Headspace, as far as narrative function goes, is to demonstrate that Sunny in fact is taking very active internal steps to enact real change

Source?

Headspace was literally constructed to prevent any sort of change. it isn't shown significantly changing over the course of the game either.

Whether you believe spirit Mari or the backstage trio of Kel, Aubrey, and Hero were real or just a manifestation of Sunny’s mind,

The Backstage trio definitely isn't real, though.

they nevertheless demonstrate a significant overhaul taking place within Sunny and therefore a significant amount of character development!

Source? Any examples?

What is that even supposed to mean? What, should I consider Omori randomly seeing whatever that black-and-white apparition of Mari is supposed to be at North Lake solid character development?

I've previously explained why Headspace doesn't really matter much and why Backstage makes no sense story-wise, but it seems like I'll have to reiterate.

I'm not going to care about Sunny just because of what he thinks or says (and he doesn't even say much lol). What defines you are your actions. Sure, Sunny can say he'll miss his friends and dream about them all he wants, but if his love for them isn't backed up by what he does over the course of the game, I won't be inclined to believe in it.

Likewise, Backstage doesn't demonstrate character development to me. It's just Sunny shoving words of comfort he wants to hear at the moment into his friends' mouths, which is what Headspace was. The only thing that's different is the sprites.

What's the point of having your character trying to kick an addiction and framing said addiction as a bad thing only to have the character indulge in that addiction once again and frame it as a good thing at the end of the story?

By the way, I love that the comment's rebuttal to my first gripe - that Sunny doesn't do anything in real life that counts as actual character development - is basically "he changes on the inside!", which misses the point that he doesn't do anything substantial in real life. peak

The tragic irony of it all was that a depiction of someone suffering terribly was criticized for not being a “model” depiction of said suffering - as though there’s some kind of standard unit of measurement for that. I think in similar fashion, Sunny takes a lot of heat by players precisely because his situation is so extreme.

I love when people make no attempt to actually engage with what I'm trying to say and instead create an entirely different argument in their head because it'd be easier to argue against.

I'm not criticizing Sunny because his situation is extreme. I just don't like him because the game doesn't give you much of a reason to and because his actions towards the people we're supposed to see as his closest friends throughout the story paint him as very unpleasant at best. That's all there is to it.

Also, I've never seen The Whale. Looking it up on TVTropes, though...

lol. lmao, even. rofl, if you will

Let’s be honest here: even if you struggle with some kind of mental health issue, you probably won’t - hopefully won’t - really be able to understand what Sunny is experiencing. That doesn’t make for a very relatable character!

Yes, because I've never committed manslaughter.

I'm not one to measure how good a character is by whether they're relatable or not. In fact, I despise the notion that a character must be relatable in order to be well-written. However, in this case, I need to ask - if Sunny isn't supposed to be relatable, what is he supposed to be? Again, why should I care about him?

Unlike Charlie, who is apparently nice to people even when they treat him like dirt, Sunny doesn't have any notable character traits besides his mental illness. We're repeatedly told he's nice and supportive, but he's never shown doing anything substantial for his friends other than being "the baby of the group" before Mari's death, nor do we see him trying to be supportive to them after it.

Sunny makes no indication that his friends must accept his apology or that he expects their forgiveness,

but the secret ending shows that he did in fact forgive himself.

And everyone he hurt by letting them believe in Basil's lie are glossed over, but hey, who gives a shit about these people, right?

Aubrey’s reaction and her pushing Basil into the lake is a great example of this; a very similar scenario plays out, only potential tragedy is avoided. Does that still make Aubrey a killer? Is she solely to blame for the push, even if it was fully intentional?

"Is she solely to blame for the push, even if it was fully intentional?" Yes. What kind of question is this?

What about her upbringing

"Her upbringing" can only excuse so much. At some point, a Freudian Excuse stops being an excuse, and Aubrey pushing Basil into the lake was that point. The game doesn't bother delving into her upbringing much either, so, again, why should I care?

and, not nearly mentioned as much, Basil’s own continued choice to keep the truth hidden and allow people like Aubrey to remain in unnecessary pain and suffering?

Aubrey didn't even know the truth when she attacked Basil, though. She just flipped out at him for no reason.

It's easy for the player to grow attached to the main character because they're playing as them. Summing up Sunny's character traits as, in the critique's own words, "#relatable traits," is unbelievably disingenuous. Sunny isn't just "depressed and quiet." He is a traumatised child who is borderline neurotic and suicidal.

Okay. Aside from him being traumatized and being the protagonist, why should I care about him? These are not enough.

Trauma does not constitute one's personality - it informs it. I've said as such in the post the OP linked, and yet everyone seems to omit it in their rebuttals to my arguments. Convenient!

Sunny obviously cares about being forgiven by his friends, that's kind of the reason why he lied in the first place?

Oh yeah, he cares!

In the sense that he was more concerned with losing his friends' love than what they might think and/or feel about the truth, which is why he went along with Basil's lie. He cares only in terms of how it affects him.

It's more so... you know, that Omori was wrong and that Sunny's friends will forgive him and love him regardless? 

...The whole point of the true ending is that there is no definitive answer to whether they forgive him or not.

I'm kind of starting to doubt whether the people lambasting me for not understanding the game actually understand it themselves.

Oh, but of course

It’s not that Sunny didn’t go through a “legitimate character arc”; it’s that he went through an unconventional character arc

that post calls sunny an empty husk of a character yet refuses to analyze him or read into any of his actions beyond complete surface level and instead opts to demonize him at every opportunity. complete media literacy failure in understanding show don't tell. wild.

Anyone who can spend 70% of a game in the depths of a single character's complex, ever-changing psyche and then say that character is a husk concerns me

His development is certainly nuanced, but to say it’s nonexistent you would have to play with a blindfold. 

If I'm being honest, the more OMORI fans insist on the writing being too Unconventional™/Nuanced™/Complex™/Symbolic™ for people to understand and that everyone who has problems with it is lacking media literacy, the less believable and more obnoxiously pretentious they sound.

Also the words of encouragement Sunny receives during the Omori boss fight are all in-line with the characterisation of his friends and the overall narrative of the game, something the author of that critique happily omits.

That... wasn't even the problem I was talking about?

"There's just a problem with this, though - Sunny's friends offered him their support without the knowledge of how Mari actually died. They were convinced that Sunny is struggling with Mari's suicide, not that he's wrestling with well-earned guilt over committing manslaughter. We don't know whether they would've supported him all the same if they knew the truth, and the game doesn't provide an answer either since the group's reactions to Sunny's confession are left ambiguous." "Simply put, Sunny is twisting his friends' words, taking them out of context to make himself feel better. The support Sunny received is built on a lie."

I don't think anyone in that comment thread took the time to actually read my post. Unsurprising.

”Every character in Omori is an empty husk, because I’ve never played the game!”

I've seen this refrain pretty frequently. The funniest thing about this is that I was a fan of the game myself until I scrutinized its writing a tad closer than I used to and consequently realized how dogshit it is.

Well, whatever. I've said what I wanted to say.

[archivalofsins]

Ahh... I'm glad I have Milgram and Caligula Effect Overdose exist. This is a vent because I'm loopy and tired. A very indepth vent as well so feel free to ignore the negativity.

Honestly I'm in a downer mood because I'm slowly but surely catching the flu from my dad. I also caught covid from him at the end of 2023 to the beginning of 2024. I've been expected to take care of him and put my life on hold since I was eighteen basically. Each time he has a medical emergency of any kind I'm just expected to ddrop everything I'm doing.

Even when I went to visit Star for the first time it was riddled with guilt tripping calls from my older sister like how could you leave our dad at the house by himself. Even though he was actually in good health at that time. It's gotten to the point medical professional, cops, emts, at home nurses from the hospital are like you're his caretaker right you have to do this that and the other okay.

If you do this wrong once he'll die okay so pay attention. Like ma'am I just live here because my family has consistently stopped me from doing anything that would give me any prospects or future financial stability to do something they don't want to bother doing themselves. To the point some family have been like I'm gonna make it my life's mission to make sure you don't get paid for doing this because he's our dad and I don't think you deserve money actually.

But I deserve to be cleaning throw up, fecal matter, and showering my dad down as well as other members of this family when they got sick or had surgeries. Be soooo for real I'm tired and the only financial help I get is like Star who doesn't even fucking live or can benefit from helping and should be looking out for her damn self. I've had to stop going to college to do this, quit jobs I just got to do this, and all I get is you're a really considerate daughter giving up your life to take care of him I know who I want to take care of me when I'm older.

It's never ending... Like how many times do I have to get sick taking care of someone else. How many times do I have to have family members wellbeing leveraged over my head because you're the only one who can take care of them you have to. While simultaneously having all my own issues ignored. It's annoying because they ask for a lot thinking it's nothing then I feel bad for asking the bare minimum back.

Or they just actively harass me.

Like I'm not missing the comedy in my sister just last year calling adult protective services and accusing me of elder abuse. Leading to cops coming here and calls from social service workers. Yet now when he needs looking after it's crickets and my little sister has this again I'm gonna just keep being an influencer in cali and telling my hundred of thousands of followers what an evil person my sister is while consistently attempting to blackmail her with a video I took of her assembling a cat tower in her home in like 2022 that I refuse to give her access to but swear proves she's a shit person.

Online people are so fucking disingenuous don't believe anything online even this. I'm just so over it at this point. I just hate it. So, I do greatly enjoy that Milgram and Caligula Effect Overdose show people who are so deeply fed the fuck up with their circumstances. Whether those people are good or not genuinely does not fucking matter to me.

It's the fact that they all embody that animosity one feels when society consistently and actively overlooks a person or their issues. That's the good part to me. This is also why I'm like I can understand where Shidou was coming from when he said he wants the people he loves to stay healthy.

I get that shit and what it's like to have someone's life placed in one's hands or on one's shoulders. It's sooo annoying when people believe someone's opinions on other characters in a narrative negate what they may feel about another one in the same narrative. No one knows what another individuals relationship with a piece of media is or how far it goes. I'm just trying to find something that makes the unbearable bearable honestly.

I'm prettty sure I have the flu or norovirus now as well which being sick makes me more chatty sadly. Though my brother stops by and helps from time to time. Picking up food and playing cards with our dad. In short yay I have a burger now.

I gotta clean the kitchen after this.