#me vs bloodborne

[death-rebirth-senshi]

Bloodborne is literally 1984 CONFIRMED

[katkalis-the-horror-fanartist]

Dr. Zomboss attempted to inject plant DNA into himself...with terrible consequences.

@staticmonstera HES BIGGER NOW-

[mishavoltaire]

this brave hunter is wagging her tail

[ruthlesslistener]

Marcelline 🤝 Marcille: needing to keep an eye on your autistic sometimes-unnerving and dangerously competent brother because he keeps trying to do some freaky shit to monsters while also attempting to juggle being a full-time lesbian

[luxurysystems]

VampireHunter!Irwin R Schyster is just one of those AUs where I'm just like "oouuh my brain 😌" but then "ooOUUHH my feelings D: "

[lucifer-kane]

I love watching people who are better at video games than me, especially games that I own

[jaythelay]

It's genuinely ironic that the reason Couch Co-op died was entirely because of consoles.

Every time. Every single time, it's that they were "too weak"

Just saying. PC never has this problem, we expect varying performance depending on hardware and settings, not varying cut content depending on hardware. We're pretty relaxed about something being technologically fallible but working regardless.

[yandere-wishes]

⋆.˚ 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕜 𝕍𝕒𝕔𝕒𝕪 ⋆.˚

𐙚Yandere! Qimir X Reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He steals you in summer. Castaway on a planet with no name. But the way his eyes shine under the hot sun has your heart beating out of your chest.

⁀➷ Does this count as "That's that me, espresso"?

🪐 Yandere behavior, obsessive tendencies, Stockholm syndrome, blood, and gore.

⁺₊𝄞₊⁺ Espresso by Sabrina Carpender

Dark Vacay by CAS

The heat licks at your neck dangerously. The scathing red glow cleaves through flesh, through bone.

Warm, warm, warm.

The sort of swelter befitting rampant volcanos and rebirthing suns.  

The man, no, the Sith has you pinned to his chest. His force,a dark pulsating thing, coiling through your body, keeping you rooted.

Sol's voice echoes through the canopy. Sending ripples through the blood-matted forest floor. "Release her." His saber is drawn, pointed.

Blue vs red.

Hot vs cold.

"Give me the relic." The voice lacks emotion, empathy. It demands, it takes. There is no room for formalities here, no chivalry you've long believed in. This monster deals only in dark. Taking and taking. "And I won't hurt her".

You try to push him away, to fight. Your force against his, clawing at the dark ether around you, hunting for an aperture, a splinter anything to infiltrate. But he is resilient, strong the way most volcanos are.

Impenetrable.

You moan against the tightening noose. He demands and you must obey. Such a dark thing can even make your master bow, make him give up the ancient blood-red relic. "You have your relic, now release my pupil." Behind you the monster chuckles, an airy noise overflowing with malice, "I said I wouldn't hurt her, not that I'd give her back."

The lights dull. Neon fading into a fuzzy mess of colors too tangled to decipher. Voices weave bending to the blaring buzz echoing from within. The world grows darker, you try to clutch onto something, anything. The cool colors of saber light, the soothing tone of your master's voice. The monster's dark cadence. But it's no use, the darkness prevails, pulling you under its crushing waves, burying you in a sea of nihil.

The world is dim upon resurgence. The air tastes of salt, fresh and dry upon the throat. The earth you lay in is warm, not like the smoldering heat of a bloodborne saber, but the warmth you imagine a mother's embrace to hold. Soft in every way that counts.

The place is alien and abandoned. No family, no monsters. Just rock upon rock and makeshift furniture to further the illusion of a makeshift home. The pounding upon your temples has yet to cease, you wonder if the outlines of a bruise have yet to bloom.

Slowly, you emerge from the cocoon of worn blankets. Bare feet scraping across the jagged floor. You feel the monster's presence linger, his essence strong within this place. You remember the dragon dens you used to read about in fairy tales. The gold-adorned caves where little princesses were forced to dwell.

It's funny you should feel like one now.

There are clothes sprawled across the floor. Vanilla ice cream in shade and shape, they feel too pure to have been chosen by a man like him. Too pure to have been tainted by the darkness of his fingertips. It's only now that the dress glares back that you notice your bareness, Jedi robes stripped and discarded.

That fiend...

You feel skinned, alone. No saber to grasp, no golden drapes. Nothing to paint you as Jedi. It's with reluctance that you lace yourself into the sweet dress, with utter reluctance that you step out onto the beach of rocks awaiting outside.

You spot the man,

the sith.

Qimir

His name reverberates within your head. You lick each letter, rolling them across your tongue and drinking in their condensation. "Qi-mi-rr" the name shouldn't taste of exotic fruits blended and bled. It shouldn't taste like fruit cocktails and coconut cubes but it does.

It does and it's disgustingly delicious.

He walks with the steady strout of a man who knows he is the most dangerous thing on this beach, on this island, on this entire planet. A volcano among mountains.

You follow behind bare feet on smooth rocks. Fumbling across the beach.

Chasing shadows. Chasing monsters.

He sheds his robes like skin, peeling away sabbath vestments to reveal cutis. Tanned and scarred, marred flesh risen like volcano veins cascading across his spine.

You shouldn't admit how desperately your fingers ache to trace the tragic thing. You glid your nails across the notched igneous rocks. Dreaming its soft flesh, his soft flesh beneath your touch. He would shutter under your fingertips as you pull apart his secrets. Nibbling on them like picnic cookies.

He's stripped bare, soft skin caught in the dim sun. His open wounds glisten under soft gold rays. You skate away from the sight, that forbidden sun-drenched sight. Eyes averted and hidden behind the rocks, twice locked, to avoid a rogue glance.

He is nothing if not haunting, forbidden in every way.

Odd how the memory of his bare ankles is what lingers. Carved too steep and too deep in a way that looks too marble. They merge into long robust legs. You can't help but imagine the sculpture of his thighs after, the thing at the end of those perplexing ankles. They too must be strong, carved to define each muscle. You imagine being trapped between them, their forceful push against your meaker body as his ankles intertwine with yours.

"You can open your eyes now."

You taste his darkness in your mouth again. Potent tropical fruits laced with sea salt. He couldn't have known you were trailing after him, you'd been quiet, silent like a whisper.

"It's improper to strip out in the open. What would you have done if someone should have come upon you?"

He treads in the water like a pearl unearthed. Shimmering alongside the blue-green of the lagoon. "You came upon me and nothing happened."

"That's because I had the good graces to avert my gaze from such a sight."

"I'd prefer if you'd look."

He pours water over his face, sparkly droplets cascading down sharp cheekbones. Eyes wide with an odd groggy wonder. The sky and the sea and him ethereally in between. He shouldn't look so magical. Some water nymph playing spike ball with the sun. Drinking in the clouds and blue. Before diving back down into his aquatic galaxy.

"Join me"

"I'd rather impale myself"  

he's treading closer, water shielding his body like liquid lapis lazuli. "I wonder what your lips will taste like blue?" and it's the first time you've ever thought of your order's regalia as something so macabre.

His eyes are half-lidded, licking over your body like a melting Sunday. Or maybe he actually is, you can feel something wet and sinister sliding across your body. Slipping over and under the dress, sucking at pulse points. Anticipating soft vanilla.

You want to rip out his tongue and harbor in your mouth. You want to devour him as if he were ice cream on a summer day. Butterscotch cone with drizzled caramel and star sprinkles. Your teeth ache desperately for just one small bite.

He's standing, growing into a full man, no longer just a boy nymph memorized by soft whites and bright blues. The water droplet clutch greedy to taut muscles, refusing to leave such a Promethean thing.

The wet thing freezes. Running water to ice cube. His force evaporates from you, you bask in the mist of him. Before the shadow roots behind you impenetrable all over again. Qimir steps closer and you close your eyes on instinct. Stepping back, following the flow of sand in breeze.

Such sights are not for us to love.

It tips you off balance, You can't see Qimir but you can feel him. He's closer and closer. That's why you're stalking back. But the plasmic thing behind you nicks your ankle. Lurching you back. In the blink of an eye and the start of a scream, you're suspended in mid-air. Floating above the sands, save in the gossamer of his black mist.

"Careful" Qimir jests

And you crack your eye open just enough to see his outstretched hand.

"I want to take a shower"

"The lagoone is over there" he throws over his shoulder all so causally. like spelling out sea cemetary.

the warmth of the cave is suffocating. Lacing through your body making it breakout into little pearls of hidrosis. You roll over, watching Qimir, solder the cracks of his helmet. The rampant sparks cast him in a galactic white halo. Some intangible creature from the far reaches of the universe.

You wonder back to the incident by the lagoon.

You wonder if his tongue, his real tongue, would feel cool against your flaring skin. Muscle-bound ice cube rolling across your arms, your chest, drinking in your essence in half kisses and open-lipped moans. Sucking tenderly on the veins of your neck.

But shouldn't the tongues of monsters be spiked? cutting deep in search of blood?

Qimir swats the sweat from his temples. Pulling up the back of his shirt in an effort to fight the humidity. His scars transcend so low. Rivers weaving through him, overflowing with treasured secrets. You suck in the force through your lips drinking in its cold confidence. Marching up to stand behind him, only half admiring the rugged skin below the sandy shirt.

"Ahem" Spine straight, head held high. Your stance is practiced, sculpted in the confidence that the order demands. Lightside in every way.

Jedi, Jedi, Jedi

"I know it is futile to ask a treasonous sith like you to abide by the laws of common decency. But I'd ask that you do not come to spy on me while I bathe" Your hands ball into firsts. Glaring death and shark teeth at his blemished back.

He leaves the workbench with all the grace of a crushing tide. Elegance carved from salt rocks and years of walking through stars and shadows. But this time you refuse to step back. There is no dishabille to fear, no sand lines that may be passed.

But he doesn't confront you. He doesn't bask in his rage and stands proudly in front of you. No, instead he paces, or rather almost floats. He's in front of you one minute and behind you the next. The eerieness of it all only comes from the feeling of entombment. He is your cage, your coffin. Burying you under the sand with his precious secrets and red relics. Your nerve beats out of you in little droplets.

Qimir's fingers lace with your own, his hot breath fans the shell of your ear, "How can I make such promises when you act so cute" his voice is coconut shavings upon white sand. You aren't even sure he spoke. " I thought Sith only dealt in absolutes?" his laughter cuts like fractured seashells. Cutting through heartstrings. You want to hear it again and again until you've memorized its melody. "That's what we want the Jedi to believe."

His teeth graze the nape of your neck. That's the last straw, gravity crushes your nerve, and you take off running.

The pearls that shine within his sockets are entirely too dark. You shouldn't be thinking such this as you disrode. But the glimmer of pure drown isn't a worldly sight, it's something unplaceable.

Sith can not be trusted, even if, until mere days ago they had been things of fairytales like dragons and sea monsters. Mystical monsters used to frighten little padwans into finishing their plates. But the stories are true now, they've ripped open the holobooks and sprouted from the screen. Your fingers flex, feeling the weight of his hand in yours.

The monsters are real...

You keep your undergarments on as you descend with the sparkling tides. Qimir may appear at any moment. And you wish to confront a Sith in a Jedi's skin, or what little is left of it.

You're sinking into the watermelon greens and crystal blues, sinking into him... because even so far from the grotto his presence haunts your thoughts still.

"You wouldn't mind if I invite myself in?" The water laps at his feet, he's standing over the liquid threshold.

"What are you doing here?! I told you not to come."

he shrugs and you can't help but notice the definition of his muscles. "It's hot in the cave. Plus you don't own the beach."

He pulls the shirt over his head.

You scream for him to stop.

But this time as he pulls the waistband down you notice something underneath.

Swim trunks.

Bell-bottomed and shaped like a nebula, but only midnight in hue. The cuffs glimmer with red intricacies, patterns from a different time, a different solar system. Each stitch tells some tale of horror or history. Sith things that you'd rather not know. But why engrave them into a swimsuit? Why paint a tapestry on something so jejune?

He treads through the water, deadset on you. And again in every step, you notice a mettle valor that can only come from having killed and kissed your greatest fears.

The rocks are slippery beneath your feet, running, swimming, gliding whatever gets you further from him. But the rocks form barricades of their own. Igneous confines housing prey and beast.

"I meant it when I said you were cute." He has you pinned to the mineral mountains, eyes prying you open, studying your inner workings like a gutted bot. "So fragile so malleable..." You feel his power rolled over your neck.

You didn't expect the kiss. The taste of coconut shavings and caramel. Your heart hammers as he tugs on your hips, pulling you closer. Your lungs burn, filled with salt water and dark force energy.

But suffocating is a small price to pay when he parts your lips and pushes iced star fruits in your mouth.

That night Qimir had tried to feed you soup. Boiled fish and herbs in a cauldron that looks, entirely witch. But the refusal comes not from the perturbation of poison or the primal mistrust shared between star-crossed enemies.

No the refusal comes because you simply do not like fish.

"Just try a spoonful, it's from a rare breed. Considered a luxury on most planets". His entreaties fall on deaf ears, outvoiced by the stubbornness of a crashing tide. You retire hungry, and maybe it's hunger that stirs you in the dead of night.

Or maybe it's the heartbeat echoing from his mask.

He called it cortosis. But it looks more terror than diamond.

You sink to your knees in front of the haunted heirloom, cradling it gently within your palms. The iron flavor upon lips makes you part them, tongue fleshed tracing every welded scar. Sucking in the solder and crystal and every other poison.

You want to be a part of it, to pry open your ribcage and shove the empyrean taj within.

Let its darkness mingle with your blood. You want to feel it's royalty in the marrow of your bones.

In the morning you do not speak about the pulsating thing within. But the mask stares at you as you eat mint and bread from Qimir's hand.

It knows...

It knows things you can never admit.

You'd been planning on narrowly avoiding him. Tiptoeing across the cave to evade stirring him. But the plans die when first light breeches the aperture.

Qimir's gone.

And in his place, he's left yet another raiment.

The dress is summer and doll. Bowed in the back and studded.

Bar'biee in every way.

The hysterically placed designs parody the crisscross of twilight roses and all their thrones. Checkered in shades of obsidian and ink.

But the black of your dress doesn't quite match the ebony of his robes.

It simply plays testament to your ripeness. You're starting to feel like his little doll.

He lies on a beach towel overlooking the sea. So ordinary it makes you choke. Beach ball in the corner by his feet, waiting to be played with.

Fearless.

You wonder just who he had to kill to reach this hubris?

You float down the little exclaves toes barely touching the ground.

He's adorned the rocky beach with a comically large parasol too dark to even have a name. Another towel, a picnic basket, and little coconut cups with straws. Despite his black tainted sunglasses, he knows you're watching him. Caught in the bosom of this haunted shore. Awaiting your capturer's orders.

"You can sit if you want." again he's saying words without realizing how crushing they truly are. Their full weight pulling your bones until they slip from skin.

Might as well have said shark attack and death at sea.

But you obey because despite everything, the towel looks nice and so does the drink.

"The sun doesn't come out very often. But I figured we could at least enjoy it today."

"Thanks," you mutter chewing on the pink straw. You shift your limbs rigidly. Plastic doll coming to life. Pushing tense bones straight as you rest your uneasy head. The waves hum in your ear and you swear you hear the rocks buzze like star songs.

"Why did you bring me here? Why not kill me."

"Well, you're not really any use to me dead" He offers you a melon slice.

"So I'm bait." Qimir sighs, your query exhausting. He simply sips from his own drink. You notice the jounce of his throat with each gulp. How you'd love to ring to those bones, feel them crack between your fingers.

He turns to you, lips a breath away. He hasn't kissed you since that day in the lagoon. But you wish him too so very much.

This isn't the Jedi way...

What?

Qimir's fingers trace over your thighs and hips. Finally, they land heavily on your shoulders, pushing you into the rocks with zeal. He blocks the sun and you can't help but think he's lovelier than any red goliath in the macrocosm.

Qimir's teeth gnaw at your throat, kissing the blood and smearing it with his tongue. Traling open-mouth kisses to the plinth of your neck.

Your nails, rasp curiously at his back, tracing scars, tracing cortosis veins.

His fingers dig into your ribs, painting it in seastars. Kissing starlights and pearls in your bones. His body is hot, scolding. And you wonder if the minerals he surrounds himself with were all nursed in the womb of a violent volcano.

The result of destructive habits is knife bites called kisses and a heart that's finally exploded.

When he pulls off, he poises himself on his knees before falling back to his side, searching for something in the basket. You stare, dress distorted, and breath hitched. You taste the exotic fruit blend again. Burning, caramel, and coconut that linger across your body.

"Hey, can you put this on me?" reality blurs back in, he's dangling a yellow bottle in front of you. "What" he shouldn't have this ease with you. He shouldn't be playing make-believe lovers on the beach with the girl he kidnapped.

But he does.

And you play along too.

"it's sunscreen, believe it or not, I burn easily."

"No"

"please"

"N-"

You don't control your hand as it pours the cream onto his chest. He touches you with such familiarity, the force on this planet is just an extension of him. But you shy away at the thought of running your fingers across his muscle bound chest. What is the force if not a child's toy? If not another doll.

He notices the shyness. Or rather reads it from the air. His force pokes at your arms, laughing at the discomfort. Before you know it he's harbored between your thighs. Large hands holding your wrist.

Firm yet delicate.

He moves your hand over his chest, charting every bump and muscle. Coating the blocker over his skin. It feels like piecing together armor. Preparing him for a battle you've never been invited to.

You don't want this.

Well not quite.

You want to feel his body jolt under your touch and hear the sweet little quips he offers to lighten the mood. You want to capture the fleeting moment where he bites his lip and preserve it for eternity.

But more than anything you want to peel away his armor, his flesh, and bury yourself beneath. Become another one of his secrets and staying inside him. Safe and warm forever.

"Qimir"

He makes pomegranate soup that night. As he nestles your body over his lap. Kissing the half-healed bruise on your forehead. He brings the spoon to your lips and gently nudges your mind to let him in. You part your lips, welcoming him in with the shyness you've been raised on. Blushing little bride-doll.

Legacy. You realize when the seeds erupt inside your mouth.

He's feeding you his secrets, his bequest. Boiling you like the fish and the fruit. And birthing you anew.

You sleep with your head buried in the crux of his neck. Listening to the lullaby of his tattered heart, singing psalms of conquest.

That night you dream of a river red. You blame it on Qimir, the pomegranate seeds were too maroon in color and flavor.

From the crimson water the helmet surfaces. Bobbing in the waves, beckoning you. You cup your hands inside the river, guzzling down the water and licking your fingers after. You let the red kiss your lips and fill your lungs choking you by essence alone. You want to die drinking from the bloodlust. Die in front of his helmet.

So maybe he can call it love.

Or Devotion.

Or anything else equally sweet.

The river doesn't taste like pomegranates, or fruit cocktails, or iced coconut.

It tastes of salty iron, volcanic diamonds and Qimir's lips.

You plunge into the red...

He's thinking about you again. You know it from the moment you awake. His voice is loud inside your head. Reverberating from wall to wall until it is the only thing you hear.

This time the garments are waterproof. Swimwear. Two pieces in black, just black. And adorned with red trees on the seams.

Right, because you beat me in the forest.

Clever.

He has left bangles too, jagged and bruised purple with veins of white. cortosis. Accompanied by a golden necklace that looks like a beating heart, ripped freshly from someone's chest.

"You look beautiful," he remarks after you've dressed in his colors. When did he come in? You need to get better at hearing the man born from shadows. The man who's walking between worlds unseen, unheard his entire life.

He pulls you close, nails picking at the soft flesh of your tummy. Scratching skin and leaving red crescents. He kneels and licks and bites, claiming this new chart of unmarked skin.

This has always been about possession, domination, damnation. "Qimir" you moan and it feels so wrong and so right. Like saber to the heart.

Oh force, how far you've fallen.

Qimir laces his fingers with yours pulling you outside the cave. The sun shimmers off his lopsided smile and he really does glow brighter than every star in the known cosmos.

The lagoon is red.

It shouldn't be red.

"You killed them" Since when have such dire words spilled so easily from your lips? Sol, Jacki, Yord. Are they in this pool? shimmering translucent awaiting a vengeance you do not think you can deliver?

"Yes...But not your Jedi, not yet. These were just some self-pious knights who got in my way."

He brings his arm up showing you a fresh saber cut, before pulling you into the water. It's so warm boiling, lava meets water. You think your skin will peel off.

But you stand your ground. Force directing your every breath. Spine straight head high. Darkside in every way

Sith, sith, sith

You grasp at his forearm, pulling it to your lips. Your tongue finds the slit in the skin and dives it. Mapping out the muscles and drinking in the red.

Exotic fruits bled and blended.

"I think I'm finally getting through to you," Qimir says, brown pearls glazed over with pride. "My sweet little acolyte."

You giggle at the term. It tastes so bitter, like a raw espresso before dawn.

"Oh, master" you moan. As you pull him under the red waters. Lips and legs entwined.

ᯓ♡ : @feedmestraycats @moonlovefairy  @wicked0clouds @phoenixes-and-wizards @peridedarling @morax-on-my-mind @magikmaik @lov4gor3 @manchuria @bucksdonkey @embersofimagination @hauntedhedgehogs @peter-laufeyson @papitas-con-sal @f0odie @boredtone @bluechissbrain @yourfilthydevil @n0t-skywalker @xsister-serpent @gabriqllas @zionysuss @i-love-my-babygirls @pagingoswin @jxp1ter @faebirdie @deezhutts565 @thesithdiaries @pagingoswin @hauntingwolf @scentedbanditlampwobbler @uwingdispatch @mask-knife-is-buggys-girl @lunarsvertigo @scintilla-morningstar @carpinchootaku @penny44224 @suburbanlegendzzzz @jihyos-wifey @reylo-imperium @ladyofyourdreams @sassybananaweaselpsychic @96jnie @@jxp1ter @sunnymoonxx @scintilla-morningstar @carpinchootaku @smutmaniac @alena1100 @marice23top @ohdearmaggie @strawberrycat69

[thesilvervicar]

TIER LIST of every CF song. please show yours I'm very curious

here's mine🙏

[death-rebirth-senshi]

I was trying to see if it was ever explicitly stated that Maria was just a caretaker of the patients at the research hall or if she was like. Also participating in the experiments. Perhaps even in charge of the place?

Not that her hands are exactly clean either way - she couldn't stand to use her Rakuyo anymore, but she stuck around to see what came of what they found in the fishing hamlet, didn't she? And either way, the patients were clearly not treated well. In particular there's a lot of guilt among them, fear of abandonment, that they're failures, etc.

Idk just something I'm suddenly curious about.

[drenched-in-sunlight]

Your genuinely one of my favorite elden ring artists, what would you say is your favorite aspect of elden ring just in general

this might be a big revelation but i think my favourite part about Elden Ring is i... actually don't really like it until the DLC.

the way the base game presented a kinda basic and fragmented story, one i'd even say i were underwhelmed about. because i went in expecting Sekiro-level of character driven writing (they did promise that in an interview) and what i got... ehhhh. that's why my fanarts for the base game is literally just fluff pieces and shipping Malenia with another character altogether that isn't even in the game. meanwhile my AC6, Sekiro and Bloodborne art... i think you can tell i have a very deep emotional connection to those games from the kind of work im putting out for them. (hell, before the DLC i actually was thinking "well i'll probably only draw some general fanarts after the DLC then go back to draw more JJK stuffs lol" famous last words)

but holy mother of God the way the DLC completely blew everything tf up.

sorry Fromsoftware, i were not aware the Sekiro character-driven part is actually about the DLC. im sorry im still not familiar with your game yet 😭

(this turns into a mini rant so imma put it under cut OTL)

before, i were pretty "...." about Elden Ring female cast. i think Melina appears too little, i think NPCs like Fia and Roderika... i can't figure out the significance of them within the narrative at all. and it kinda upset me because it feels like they regress back to the helpless / fanservice maiden trope that was usually seen in DS franchise for no reason. i don't like how Rennala ends up as and i don't like not knowing why Radagon did that to her (which turns to me not liking the way it became a popular fanon that he actually loved her he was just bound by duty etc etc...i mean what?), i actually don't even really like how Malenia's barely-there story turns out (but that's a rant for another day).

as standalone characters, sure, i'd say they all have their own merits, but if they don't play any role within the narrative... what's the point then?

but all of that is because back then, we literally did not know what's Marika's deal either.

and so she became this cardboard that everyone pins all the crimes and bad things in the world on, which is... fine? makes sense. but the following line of reasoning that she did all that because she's just...like that drives me up the wall. if i want another "woman bad" story i'd just replay DS2 😭

and that line of thought also distance her from other characters in the game. those stories are not lining up, so we literally see no point in anything.

but by giving us Marika's story in the DLC they:

shine light on the possible division between two Numen factions (Anna & Jolan story + Sword of Light & Darkness // no one is left in Marika's home (those embraces Light/Gold/ Greater Will and its Stars children) vs the Numens in Eternal City (those embraces Dark/ Black Moon/ opposing GW and its children)

the discontent with the Moon and how there are those who will never accept it as being equal to the Stars

the other half situation

the Marika's eye colour possible reveal (link her to Roderika - Roderika as a reflection of the maiden Marika once was and probably still is deep down)

give Godwyn more agency in his ending (his personal knights are on a quest for Age of Duskborn) -> link Marika to Fia (Fia as a reflection of the mother Marika is)

draw direct parallel between Messmer - the child carrying Marika's vengeance for the past, to Melina - the child carrying Marika's hope for the future

Marika as a God full of human flaws >< Miquella as a God devoid of all human emotions. both are bad in different ways. but share a same gentle origin of a simple wish for a kinder world.

the DLC singlehandedly swipes clean every problem i have with the base game. like im actually in awe they managed to do that so efficiently 😭

all that is to say. my favourite aspect of all is truly how one's perspective of this one character could alter the entire story.

i still dislike the interpretation that Marika is cold and heartless or that's she's cruel for no reason, but at the same time, i can see how ppl viewing her that way affect how they see other events in the game. just like how my view of her changes my entire view of the story itself too. and i just love how the writers pull that off really skillfully. man. and i think that's sth so unique to videogame storytelling. it's amazing!

[chiffer178]

Toxic yuri

Game of the year

[violent138]

I want to get into the dc comics batfam and I must know it all. what comics do you recommend or are your favorites? I must learn e v e r y t h i n g

Oh my gosh this ask is so fun!

Okay this is not my complete list of favourites by any means and I did try very hard but a lot of these won't have everyone at once. For that I think Court of Owls is the best example I can think of, along with Dc Vs Vampires. Secondly, I cannot tell you anything about timelines/rebirths because I don't bother to keep track myself (I sort of just read what I like). If you have any questions at all about anything, I'll be more than delighted to try and explain.

"Long Halloween" and "Dark Victory" are must reads.

Robin: Year One

"Batgirl: Year One" (Babs!) and "Oracle Year One"

"Detective Comics #734" and "Batgirl Vol.1 (2000)" (For Cass)

Death in the Family and Under The Hood (Jason Todd and extremely popular).

Batman Prodigal

Batman Bloodborne

A lonely Place of Dying Batman No Man's Land (very long) Batman Eternal Batman and Robin Vol.2 (2011) Red Robin (2009)

Duke technically gets introduced in Zero Year (very adorable), but "We Are... Robin" and "Batman & the Signal".

Happy reading! (also hit me up for links, I read most of these via internet, library and friends of mine).

[thepersonperson]

I'm very much with you on the dudebros convincing me of the queerness in JJK. It's actually them who first directed me into Sukugo. It was a powerscaling POC (I think) youtuber who, during the height of the DE vs DE Sukugo Showdown, said on one of his vids that Sukuna LOVES Gojo. They even have a Sukugo manip as thumbnail for it.

I've never seen that before in an other shonen series ever. It was not treated as a joke. The usage of "love" in reference to a gay ship is unironic and serious. It's really weird not only how they just roll with it, they are very open about it too. There's not even any derision or hostility on female shippers about it like in MHA as far as I've seen at least.

Oh. I love your metas so much especially the one where you referred to Bloodborne. I never realized how through the "absence" or "belittling" of the women in JJK, the dark and horrific elements of womanhood is actually highlighted. I had wondered why there's this constant usage of the word "Womb" associated with curses. Your meta made everything click for me. Gege is probably doing a Bloodborne approach or just dark horror VNs/JRPGs elements in JJK.

(Prev Related Ask)

That video. Sukuna Loves Gojo is fascinating because it came out July 22, 2023 aka when only up to JJK 229 was out. The whole “the one who will teach you love is…” quote during the fight in JJK 230 appeared After that video was released.

This means, before Gege made it obvious, a powerscaling dudebro came to the same conclusion I did about Sukugo with less information and context. None of them can read the Japanese raws. The emotions they’re picking up on are just that overtly queer.

These are the types of comments that video. Note that JJK 230 was officially released on July 31, 2024 and leaked on July 25, 2023. (I used Hadzy and the video url to get the comment dates.)

And would you look at that. Other people have not only noticed Gojo’s weird attraction to Toji (aka Prior to JJK 231 that spells out Gojo sees Toji in Sukuna)...

Some of them are assuming Gojo is a bottom (again)...

And actively encouraging fujoshis to create content.

What I also really like is how they seem to be aware Sukuna’s idea of love is fundamentally different from theirs. They may not have the words grayscale, asexual, or aroace in their vocabulary, but they do understand Sukuna’s attraction to Gojo doesn’t fit the typical gay man bill.

I’ve decided to call these people fubroshis (not fudanshis because in any other context they are wildly homophobic). These fubroshis are correct in all their assumptions and I will continue to spread their agenda.

To your other point...

"I love your metas so much especially the one where you referred to Bloodborne. I never realized how through the "absence" or "belittling" of the women in JJK, the dark and horrific elements of womanhood is actually highlighted."

That is the power of Umineko's "Without love it cannot be seen." Since Gege has otherwise stayed away from gross Shonen tropes, I wanted to give the benefit of the doubt to certain story elements. It can be hard to tell when someone is exploring misogyny vs being misogynistic. Sometimes creators do both at the same time.

[felixcloud6288]

I guess I should probably put an intro blog.

This is my trash pile. It contains things I like and random thought scribbles about whatever I felt like thinking.

While you're here, why not donate to my local Pride organization. We're located in Central Florida, so they could use all the support they can get.

Tags:

#original post: Posts that I made

#chickens: See pictures and posts about my pet chickens

#reddit vs tumblr: Collection of my and other reddit refugees' experiences with Tumblr

#Saga of Containment Breach: View the chronicle of me joining Tumblr and somehow getting a 100K post in my first week.

#University Life: Annectdotes of my life as a University Graduate Student studying Bioinformatics

#Infinite Reblog Post: View a post of mine that is several hundreds of reblogs long and has caused multiple system-stress bugs and crashed the Tumblr app for multiple users (WARNING: you may experience technical issues if you interact with the infinite reblog post. The infinite reblog post may potentially fail to load properly on Desktop)

#asks: I respond to asks and cat pics sent to me

#poll: Polls I've done

#manga rereads: I talk about manga as I reread it

#media analysis: I talk about whatever media I'm interested

#i try pc gaming: My posts about me attempting to get Steam to work on my computer

More as I feel like it.

Fandoms I've posted about:

Fullmetal Alchemist

Higurashi no Naku Koro Ni

One Piece

Puella Magi Madoka Magica

Skyrim

Spy X Family

Things you might find:

animal pictures

flowers

fandom stuff

long philosophical discussions

math

Current Manga Readthrough:

Dungeon Meshi

Feel free to DM me or ask if you'd like to

have me look at your artwork

play Monster Hunter World(PS4)

play Bloodborne (PS4)

play Mario Kart

talk about One Piece, Spy x Family or whatever manga you might be interested in

tell me about your day

Welcome. Feel free to steal anything not nailed down.

[bishopony]

while we're on the subject of collections, here's all of mine! featuring ponies, the last unicorn, pokemon, and etc

these are my G4s and G3 favorites, all this stuff is crammed onto my one desk so it's not the most ideal for now lol. There are many more brushables but they just don't fit

right above those is my etc tier, mostly dragons and a couple Scar related things, adventure time, and LPS (more pending once I can find the rest)

the top tier featuring all my godzillas minus the 3 foot long giant one! in front with the chicken feather is 2014 goji, in the back with pinkie pie is 2019. you can also see Deet from dark crystal: age of resistance (highly recommend, it's on netflix but only has one season since it got cancelled in true netflix fashion), as well as my buddies Amelia and Rom from bloodborne, and the pyramid is a beetle my grandfather encased in resin back in the 80s for unknown reasons. on the wall to the left is a newspaper clipping of an ad for godzilla vs mothra from the 50s!

more ponies incoming, these are all my G1s, my changeling collection (still growing, I want an entire swarm), my mostly finished customs, and my Tabitha St. Germain corner to the right with Minty and Ditzy! In the back is the D&D/mlp collab figures. The sign on the wall I found at a thrift store and it says "horses gather here" lol

my last unicorn collection! this is the collection I'm most proud of, the displayed one to the right is a first edition I snagged for $70. The only editions I have left to collect are the super expensive deluxe/limited version (which just got harder thanks to Suntup releasing three VERY expensive special editions this year), but some of you will remember I did get super lucky earlier this year and unknowingly got a limited print, signed edition of the lost version for $3! so altogether I think the collection is worth around $1300

my pin collection! <3 some are in a display box and some are on my go bag so this isn't everything. the keychains are from my personal shop, a couple con badges I got in a merch trade (which I'm always open for if anyone's interested! I trade merch or art).

last one for now, this is the first page of my card collection! I'm not gonna show images of them all but these are the cool guys, I got these guys in a full 1996(? whenever the first printing was) japanese display box back when I was 15 for about $25, so that was quite the massive steal. These are technically leftovers, I've got all 3 starter evos and mewtwo in acrylic cases to display, and these guys are all double sleeved haha. I've got a lot of MTG cards as well but they're all in deck being used (if anyone else is into magic the gathering, do talk with me about it, I freaking love magic hahaha)