#the amnesia thing makes some sort of sense now more than ever

[marinaiguess]

blaze my beloved blaze. you could control fire before you sealed iblis in you. iblis wouldnt accept silver as a vessel but it did choose you. why? was it bcuz you are a royal soul even if you werent a princess in sonic's world? were you a princess in sonic's world but we never got to know abt it? was it your pyrokinesis that made iblis decide that you are going to be the vessel? have you ever cried blaze? i wonder if you could wake up iblis with your crying or if thats not enough since you can already control fire. who are you blaze? is the fire within you actually a curse? a tamed one? one that could cause the destruction of your world at some point? what are you made of?

[crossdressingdeath]

Lord Enver Gortash: You have the Netherstones - they resonate with my own. Lord Enver Gortash: I commend you for putting an end to Orin's madness - she must be screaming bloody murder in the Hells even now. Lord Enver Gortash: How was the reunion? I trust you demonstrated your particular spark of creative genius? Lord Enver Gortash: I always preferred your methods to hers. You have mastery over your Urges, Orin was consumed by her gruesome obsessions. Kyvir: My Urges are gone from me, as is any trace of Bhaal. Lord Enver Gortash: I'm surprised Bhaal allowed you to slip away from his grasp. But this changes nothing. Lord Enver Gortash: With me, you will have power greater than Bhaal could have given you, and you will bow to no master. Lord Enver Gortash: My involvement with Orin was never a true alliance. A mad dog understands the yank of the leash and the hand of its master, but it cannot be an equal. Lord Enver Gortash: You can be my equal.

I know people have talked about this before, but the way Gortash's immediate response to learning that Durge has fully rejected Bhaal is "This changes nothing" is so good. Even aside from the ship fodder of Gortash basically pulling an "I don't care about that, it's you I care about" it also makes a huge amount of sense if you think about it! Gortash doesn't like people killing just for the sake of killing, he doesn't seem all that fond of Bhaal in general, and he consistently praises Durge first and foremost for their restraint and ability to control their Urges. It feels less like he's choosing to maintain his alliance with them despite the loss of their connection to Bhaal and more like he allied with them in the first place despite them having that connection to Bhaal.

But I love how his first response is "I'm surprised Bhaal allowed you to slip away from his grasp." I mean, first off if you've got All The Brainrot like I do you can read it as a "He let you (the jewel of his collection) slip away?" sort of thing. I doubt that's the actual intention of the line, but it's fun to think about. But it can also be read as an implication that Gortash has known—or at least suspected—for some time that Durge wasn't serving Bhaal entirely willingly. After all, if he's surprised to learn that Bhaal "allowed" Durge to slip away from him that means he didn't think Bhaal would do that. He also doesn't seem to be surprised that Durge would want to reject Bhaal's power, just that Bhaal let them get away with that. Obviously it depends on the Durge, but the whole thing gives the impression that they may have confided some of their doubts in their old friend over the years. And the concept of Gortash being the only one who knows that pre-amnesia Durge wasn't as much of a gleeful, amoral monster as the companions seem to assume they were is just so good.

I'm also obsessed with the Chosen of the god of tyranny immediately choosing to assure Durge that if they stick with him they will bow to no master and have more power than Bhaal could ever give them the moment he learns they've turned on their father. On its own I'd assume he was lying, but with everything else he says... it really does seem like he means that. He decided that Durge is worthy to be his equal presumably years ago, and whether they're Bhaal's Chosen or not he does not regret that decision!

[bbcphile]

WIP Wednesday (MLC longfic again!)

Now that my amnesia fic is posted, it's time for more of my MLC longfic! At long last, LLH is awake again . . . and not doing that well.

(You can find earlier excerpts here.)

CW/TW: Panic attack, bicha flare, suicidal ideation

Something was different. The pain was there as always, waiting to devour him whole once he acknowledged it, but there was something else, something blanketing it, muting it somehow.

Li Lianhua stretched out his senses like a limb and tried to make sense of it.

Ah. Warmth. That was the strange sensation. Warmth–heat, even–all around him–his back, his chest, his legs, even his fingers, which had been more like blocks of ice than flesh and blood these last few months.

He leaned back, pushing into the banked heat behind him. The solid core of warmth tucked against his front from navel to neck twitched, then pressed against him more securely, as though it could make a home for itself inside his sternum, ribs, and spine and heat him from within.

He felt warm everywhere.

Well, almost everywhere.

He rolled forward slightly, wiggled further down on the bed, and tugged the core of warmth up higher. He curled his arms and shoulders around it and nestled the bit in his hand between his face and the pillow until it cradled his cheek. 

Much better.

He smiled into his new, warmer pillow and let himself start to relax back into sleep.

“Xiangyi?”

The warmth against his face gradually took shape as his skin and mind began to wake. That was a finger–no, several fingers. A hand. A large hand. And those calluses–how could he not know them when they had clashed steel with him, choked him, clinked brimming cups of wedding wine with him, even been inside him, taking him apart with a gentleness he hadn’t known they could profess.

He let his awareness spread throughout his body, setting aside the pain, and yes, that was a-Fei’s chest he had pressed himself against, like Huli Jing requesting head scritches, and those were a-Fei’s legs, tangled with his, and that was a-Fei’s breath rustling his hair–less now than it had been a moment ago–and that was indeed a-Fei’s arm he was clutching like a child would a favorite toy. 

But a-Fei had been holding him first.

Why was a-Fei holding him? It was one thing to wake up in each others’ arms in the newly wed room, after their  . . . exertions. Before a-Fei knew that any real dream of a future was doomed to fail.

But to hold him now? After he’d given away the wangchuan flower and left a-Fei behind, left their promise behind? To hold him like he still mattered. Like he wasn’t a curse who killed everyone he’d ever cared about. Like he was some sort of treasure . . .

Treasure . . . 

Cabinets stained in blood, Xiaobao’s blood–

“Xiaobao,” he gasped, flinging himself free and to his feet. Where was Xiaobao? He had to find him, had to heal him, before it was too late–

“Xiangyi! Sit down!” A-Fei caught him as his legs buckled and lowered him back onto the bed. 

Why wasn’t Xiaobao here? Had he killed him, too, just like he killed everyone he cared about? 

“Duobing,” a-Fei roared. “Get in here. Now!” Callused fingers cupped both sides of his face, turning it gently but firmly toward him. “Xiangyi, look at me. He’s alright. He’s on his way.” 

“How could he be alright?” Li Lianhua gasped, clutching at his shoulders, the already blurry world turning more hazy. “I saw the blood!”

“I healed him. He’s safe,” a-Fei said, cradling his head as though he could hold the shattering pieces of his mind together. “Now breathe.” 

Li Lianhua choked on an inhale, his lungs spasming, only managing to draw in a desperate wheeze.

A-Fei cursed and dropped to his knees by the bed, pressing one hand to Li Lianhua’s back and the other to his chest, filling both with a familiar warmth that began to break apart the iron bands strangling his throat and lungs. “Try again. Feel my hands. Press against them when you inhale.”

The next breath shook and spluttered like a dying candle but some air squeaked through nonetheless.

“Good.” A-Fei gave his back a short supportive pat. “Again.”

Lotus Tower shook as footsteps pounded toward the bed. “What’s wrong?” panted a beautifully familiar, impossible voice. “Xiaohua’er?”

“Bicha,” a-Fei growled, rising from the floor to kneel on the bed at his side, his hands still bracketing him on either side. “He thinks you’re dead. Show him the scab.”

“Shit,” the Xiaobao-shaped hallucination cursed. It seemed especially cruel of hallucinations to now match the blurriness of their surroundings. It made them seem far too real.

The hallucination knelt at his feet and took his hands. “It’s me, Xiaohua’er,” it said, tears in its eyes and voice. “I’m alright. A-Fei healed me. See?” It brought his hand up to a spot on the back of his skull and pressed his fingers to a crusted, raised line on its scalp. “I’m right here and I’m alright. Do you believe me?”

He could feel it. Why could he feel it? His fingers had always passed through hallucinations before. And even when he’d dreamt of Xiaobao, or of a-Fei, of holding them again, it hadn’t felt as real as this. His fingers traced the ridges of the scab–a perfectly neat seam–then the silk curtain of hair that covered it. 

This was Xiaobao’s hair. The texture, the thickness, what he could see of the color–no hallucination could do justice to this. 

This was his Xiaobao.

He was alive.

“Xiaobao,” he cried, turning his head this way and that to make sure it was the only injury. “You’re alright!”

Xiaobao’s bright smile shone through despite the haze his eyes imposed on everything. “Told you. No harm done. So focus on taking care of yourself, ok, lao huli?”

Li Lianhua huffed out a wet attempt at a scoff and bopped the side of his head. “No harm? What do you call this?”

Xiaobao captured his hands with his and brought them down from his head to rest between them. “Less serious than a Bicha attack. How are you feeling?”

Li Lianhua blinked. A Bicha attack? He turned his attention inward to his qi, and–

Ah. There was a-Fei’s Beifeng Baiyang, somehow wrapped around his Yangzhouman and pushing the last of the poison back into the recesses where it would lie in wait, coiled and ready for the next attack. The black tinge was almost gone from his veins.

He had been so worried about Xiaobao that he hadn’t even realized.

A-Fei had probably saved his life. Again. 

He shouldn’t have bothered.

[loquaciousquark]

I finished my Durge run! Got that Tactician achievement too, hoorah. Lots of thoughts about the Dark Urge/Astarion romance under the cut.

My final thoughts now that I've finished it - it's fine. Honestly? It's fine. I think there are some interesting parallels drawn specifically for his backstory with Cazador compared to the Dark Urge trying to resist the urges, but I didn't come out of the romance feeling like it was the end-all be-all One True Romance version for the character. I think there are some interesting dialogue lines ("is today a 'wed you with a delicate veil of blood staining your white curls' kind of day?" made me laugh every time), and it's definitely fun to see some major hurt/comfort vibes play out on screen in the attack-the-romance scene, for sure. That said, I didn't feel like there wasn't anything in that romance I couldn't get for myself with a dominate spell and 4k words of fic with a Tav I like much more.

And like, there's nothing at all wrong with the Dark Urge background! I think it's really interesting to have that internal struggle kind of flavoring the run, and of course it makes sense to have strong Bhaalspawn ties in this particular canon. I think the stuff that's added with Isobel and Scleritas and Orin is very interesting and it definitely added depth to to the Sarevok interactions, and even the conversations with Withers had a lot more nuance! I can definitely see why some people call it Tav+, because it is a customizable character with a lot of extra dialogue options that a regular Tav doesn't get.

That said, the particular type of character that Dark Urge is is one that's not as compelling to me, and setting that up against Astarion's arc felt correspondingly less compelling than the Tav arc I made on my first rogue run. I've played amnesiac characters with a twist before (KOTOR) and in that game I found myself similarly uninvested in the character to the point that I went full Dark Side with her very early in the narrative. To date, she's the only evil main character I've ever intentionally played! There's just something about that blank slate background that doesn't appeal - I find that my characters are generally very strongly shaped by their histories and backstories, even if the details of those backstories develop over the course of the game. They make choices because of who they are and what they've experienced and who they've lost and loved, and I find it hard to create a character with a consistent internal moral needle when there's no backstory to guide it.

And I guess that's part of why the Resist path for the Durge just makes me internally go ???? Because realistically, if I've spent my entire formative life being excitedly murderous, ritually necrophiliac, gleefully cannibalistic, and generally not very nice, why does the amnesia change that? Why would that character want to become something else? How do I internally justify a character making that sort of MASSIVE ethical and moral shift just because of a brainworm and a knock on the noggin? I get that it's fun as a player to try to play a good character with these unexplained evil urges, and I totally get why it's narratively satisfying to see good arise from the ashes of corruption, but I just can't find a way to make the character want to be good in the first place! I had this problem with Revan and I've had it again with the Durge, and that foundational schism was just something I could never really overcome enough to buy into the immersive fiction of the character.

Plus, as far as the Astarion romance goes, I think the Durge arc generally pushes into that similar need to resist the uncontrollable commands given to you by an outsider. It's very much the same space. The thing is, Astarion tells you he knows how important it is to resist those compulsions in the night attack scene, but--we KNOW he couldn't! We know he tried for two hundred years and never once could defy Cazador, and it broke him so badly he gave up resisting at all. And there's some interesting parallels there maybe, that he wants so badly for you to succeed that he's willing to ignore two hundred years of his own personal history, but it puts a pretty despairing tinge to the whole first half of the romance arc. And honestly, that makes me very sad for him.

I think it's just again a less riveting pairing. The Durge/Astarion romance is about both of them overcoming external compulsion through inner will and good choices and white-knuckled defiance, except the timescales of those compulsions are vastly different. And maybe there's a little bit of needing to depend on each other's support to do that, but it's not really so for Durge; you can do the entire Bhaalspawn questline without having Astarion in your party once and you only lose out on a few lines of dialogue. He definitely cares about you, sure, and he can talk to you about how worried he is for you, and that's nice--but there aren't a lot of times where his emotional support is directly critical for you to overcome your urges. On the other hand, I think it's arguable that your friendship (and relationship) with Astarion are directly responsible for his success against Cazador with that last persuasion/insight check combo. If you could have his emotional support be more directly impactful in terms of your ability to resist the urges or Bhaal in Orin's temple, I think I'd be more on board.

In addition, I find two characters going through the exact same narrative arc at the same time not as interesting. Like, if Astarion already had beaten Cazador before the Durge stuff happened and he could directly talk about what was successful for him and help you along the way, I think that might honestly have interested me a bit more. The mirrored arcs we have instead are a little less fascinating than complementary ones. And honestly, there's something about Durge trying to relate to Astarion's centuries of struggle with their own, like, two days of fighting that compulsion, that feels just a little pfeh to me.

And maybe that's why I liked my original Tav so much? As I developed the romance with Astarion, I could shape elements from her backstory (and the way she changed and grew from those events) to make a character that I felt resonated complementarily with Astarion's arc and emotional needs. I could create a character whose defining trait was hope and had always been hope her whole life, because I feel like that's a useful trait to have against an LI who explicitly lost all hope in any rescue. A character who has stubbornly clung to hope throughout a miserable broken life and a miserable broken family paired against a character with a similar background who's lost that hope and has to relearn it--I like that! I like that the characters can teach each other things and can learn from each other. I like that they can make each other better by sharing aspects of themselves that the other person doesn't have.

Having a hopeful Durge doesn't feel the same, because first, that hope is incredibly recent and only comes out over the course of the game because right before the game started, they were still full murderbaby. It's not as longstandingly stubborn despite setback after setback over many many years the way I can have Tav be. And second, again, I can't figure out why an otherwise perfectly content murderous bastard would ever want to hope for anything else after taking a fall off a skyship. I guess that's my biggest problem, that I can't get into the fiction of the character at its baseline well enough to build anything of substance on top of it.

So now, having gone through both the Tav/Astarion romance and the Dark Urge/Astarion romance, I can definitively say I prefer the Tav version. I think the extra stuff you get in the Durge run is fun, and I think the Durge material itself is great and wonderfully tied to the lore outside of the romance, but in terms of the Astarion romance itself, it's just not as captivating. Too similar in the wrong ways and too disjointed in the ways that matter most, and I'd rather have a Tav I can build to fit what I want, someone I can shape to draw out the elements of his character I'm most interested in exploring.

I will say that at one point my Durge sorcerer did roll a 44 on a persuasion check at one point, which was extremely exciting. But I think I'll be going back to my "canon" rogue Tav on my next game to figure out that exact story now that I know her much better, and that'll almost certainly be the one I stick with for future fics.

[radarsteddybear]

[For the Anastasia AU ask game] Back to the Future? (I mean, did you expect anything else from me...?)

Send me a piece of media and I'll tell you how I'd do an Anastasia!AU for it!

Oooooh, that's going to be tough because I've only seen the film once and that was probably...somewhere around 10 years ago? But let's give it a go. (I apologize in advance if this doesn't actually fit.)

In order to keep the royalty element, I'd stick Marty and co. in a fictional country that recently overthrew their monarchy and replaced it with communism. The country is buzzing with the rumor that the youngest of the king and queen's three children survived. Meanwhile, Marty, as above, has amnesia and is trying to eek out a meager living while trying to piece together who he is, only having bizarre flashes of memory fragments to go off of--fire, nearly being run down by a strange-looking car, blinding flashes of light, the sound of tires squealing against the pavement. He arrives in this fictional country's version of Twin Pines, where he finds himself drawn to Doc, former Scientist to the Crown, who's now working as...something that is definitely not science and is unquestionably beneath his ability/skill level. Doc, much like Marty, exists on the fringes of society as the sort of person that everyone else tends to avoid because they're different and weird and tend to say stuff that doesn't make any sense and are probably doing things that could probably get them in a lot of trouble with the law. Which Doc is, by the way. Doing things that could get him in a lot of trouble with the law, I mean. Idk what he's doing exactly (probably multiple different things), but he's doing it to earn money to fund his scientific experiments and hopefully get out so he can relocate to somewhere he can have the freedom to pursue his scientific endeavors.

Now, this next part's a bit tricky, because Doc is, at heart, a very kind person who would absolutely never intentionally do anything that would ever hurt his good friend Marvin (or whatever the heck's going by at this point in time), but let's see if we can make this work. Soon, what remains of the government in exile announces a monetary reward for whoever finds the Lost Prince, Marty McFly. This gets Doc's brain going, and he starts to put some details together in a rather "I've connected the two dots/you haven't connected shit" sort of a way. Dates line up, places line up, and the kid even sort of looks like the lost prince. And if he is the prince, the reward money is more than enough to get Doc (and Marty, because Doc doesn't really think through the idea that Marty being the prince would lead to their separation) out of this fictional country and set them up with the tools and equipment to do Science™️. Doc uses his knowledge of palace life to teach Marty how to be a prince as they make their way towards Fictional Country #2 where the government in exile is currently exiled. Marty slowly begins to regain more and more of his memories, though they don't paint the happiest picture.

After they arrive in Fictional Country #2 and start to prepare to meet with the Fictional Country #1 Government in Exile (which is mostly going shopping for snazzy new clothes), Marty starts to realize that, this whole time, Doc has been more motivated by money (and freedom) than by the idea that Marty actually may be the lost prince, that Doc has been twisting the facts in his mind to fit the picture he wants to paint. And Doc starts to realize this, too, and he is absolutely horrified because, again, he'd never do anything to hurt his friend, and now...he has.

And just before realizing this, Doc also realizes that, if Marty is the Lost Prince (which Doc hopes he is, after all this), Marty is going to stay in Fictional Country #2 to take his place as the exiled king leading Fictional Country #1's government in exile as well as take his place in Europe's royalty. Sure, maybe they'll still get to see each other here and there, but it'll never be the same; they'll never again get to live in the same world.

Marty is understandably angry and decides he needs his space. Doc decides that the best thing he can possibly do is respect this, so he wishes Marty the most genuine, heart-felt "good luck" he can and starts making arrangements to return to Fictional Country #1 (because without the reward money, he can't afford to start a new life in a new country; there also a definite element of some self-flagellation in there as well).

I guess Biff gets to play the role of Gleb, working as an agent for the government of Fictional Country #1, which has a vested interest in not having any of the members of its former royal family return from the dead. Biff's mission is to either bring Marty back to Fictional Country #1 to be made an example of (if he's not the lost prince) or kill him (if he is). So at this point, Biff has been following Marty and Doc for their entire journey, and this is the moment he chooses to make his move, having determined that Marty is, in fact, the lost prince, and therefore he needs to die.

Marty, of course, isn't going down without a fight. The ensuing fisticuffs somehow catch Doc's attention, as he's still nearby and hasn't left yet. He joins in the fight, probably with the help of an invention or two, and quite literally throws himself in front of Marty to protect him from Biff once Biff reaches for his gun. Biff doesn't get the chance to fire because Marty is able to use whatever invention Doc brought along to defeat Biff once and for all (he doesn't die, of course; he just ends up getting arrested by the proper authorities).

Doc and Marty hug it out. They don't have to say much to convey their apologies to one another. They decide to ditch the whole lost prince business and find a place for themselves in Fictional Country #2, starting from scratch, because they don't need much as long as they have each other.

[measurelessdreamer]

Do you have a scene you really liked but weren't able to fit it in a fic? Would you care to share? Do you have a most recent favorite line or scene? What is it?

*Asks are sent for fun, no pressure to answer.

I'm one of the writers who start up tons of stories at the same time and never finish any of them, so, more than scenes I weren't able to fit, what saddens me is that some of my stories had really nice moments in them, that were actually written, but because I could never finish the fic or even finish some part of it that could be shared with other people, they sort of just stay in my docs, haunting me. There are two post-mountain break-up geraskier fics I was writing a long time ago that I feel particularly sorry I never continued. Neither was very long (one had 8k and the other only over 3k words), but I really liked the premise of both and I wanted them to become real stories, but they were both building up to be long fics and I had other stuff to write at the time as well and by now I haven't even looked at them for two years. The longer fic saddens me more and I still like to think that I haven't completely abandoned it, but the hope is minuscule these days.

With scenes that I had in mind at some point and I didn't manage to put them in... usually, I just like the alternative which turns into the final product much more and so I don't mourn them so much. I don't think if I can think of a single example right now, which, considering what I wrote in the previous paragraph, is kind of a relief haha.

As for recent lines, well, I have been having a bit of a hard time writing lately, so they are not recent per se, but they are the most recent ones I actually like? If it makes sense? They are more like passages, though, so that's why they are a bit longer:

(unpublished) Ch4 of my royjamie amnesia fic:

“Fine, let me rephrase that. I want you to tag along.” Jamie snorted and his eyes glowed with mischief. “Wouldn’t say no to helping an invalid. My mum raised me better than that.” “Oi!” Roy said, far more loudly than the non-existent distance between them warranted. “Fuck, man,” Jamie said after a grimace and Roy laughed and Jamie shook his head and kissed him, not stopping for a peck or a breath of air. He licked his way straight to Roy’s brain and Roy felt him absolutely everywhere and nowhere at once. Never in his life had he imagined that kissing Jamie Tartt could feel like this and that he would ever get to feel it. His hands tightened around where he was holding onto Jamie’s hoodie as he felt them go forward. He had no idea whether he was pulling or Jamie was leaning forward of his own accord but now he was lying on the grass and Jamie’s hands were on his waist and none of it rang any bell, but it still rang true. So much so that he’d almost forgotten where they were in the first place.

The (also unpublished) continuation of my Éomer/Faramir post ROTK fic:

Because he needed the solitude, needed to feel the cold air on his face instead of the warmth of the hall that felt almost scorching when it had Faramir orbiting inside and saying all the things Éomer had heard numerous times and still had no intention to heed. But were this the only hardship he’d had to face, he wouldn’t have lost his nerve. He hadn’t lost it with Elfhelm even though he had to face Elfhelm's opinions on this matter almost daily, and he hadn’t lost it once when Aragorn kept insisting that the Mark had only to call for aid and Gondor would answer. His blood wouldn’t boil the way it did now, and his instincts wouldn’t be so akin to fleeing.

They are both pretty out of context, but I really like them and I really hope they get to stay in my final versions of these stories. Otherwise, they would be the ones, I would actually mourn lol.

Thank you so much for the ask! I wish you an amazing day!

[ronanziriano]

So. Um. Now that I've already got a few hundred posts on this blog, I should probably go ahead and make an introduction post. That's usually the order for this sort of thing, right?

You can call me Ronan. My pronouns are he/they. I'm a Scorpio and am an adult, and this blog is definitely very much for adults only.

My interest in and feelings toward whump is definitely very, uh, unconventional? Based on what I've seen around the whump community and others' intro posts, at least. Sort of a combination of a kink and a coping mechanism and a way to confront fears and a thrill-seeking thing. I dunno.

I'm aroace and sex- and romance-repulsed, which probably isn't exactly obvious based on, you know, everything. Especially the fact that a lot of the content here is very NSFW. I guess the thing is, at least for me, I see nsfwhump and non-con as such a completely different thing than sex? It's approached in fiction in such a vastly different way, and a way that's more relatable. Seeing non-con portrayed as something traumatic and horrific, I can understand. Seeing consensual sex portrayed as something beautiful and desirable, I can't wrap my head around.

I like the aesthetic of BDSM, and have done some self-bondage on my own time. In fiction and art, I have absolutely no interest in things that are safe, sane, and consensual. I engage in it in a way that's more about fantasizing. Playing pretend. Imagining that I am the whumpee, being captured and tied up and gagged. In real life, that's obviously going to be the means of enjoyment. But in fiction, that layer of pretend isn't necessary and just gets in the way.

Anyway. I do also enjoy plenty of whump stuff that is perfectly SFW and non-kinky, and I enjoy the occasional kinky thing that wouldn't be considered whump. But there's a lot of overlap between the two. Makes more sense to keep it all on one blog.

I've been a longtime lurker and only recently decided to jump in and make a tumblr of my own. I have tried my hand at art and writing, although I don't know whether I'll actually ever share the results. I don't know that people would be particularly interested in things I create.

I will warn, I'm, well, very picky when it comes to whump enjoyment. Less so when it comes to art than writing; just, writing has a lot more opportunity to include details that end up hurting my ability to enjoy it, while art just has the space of a single image to shoot its shot. That being said, here are a few of my favorite things:

Non-con/rape

Creative torture devices

Defiant whumpees

Slave whumpees

Whumpees who are humanoid but not quite human

Aroace whumpees

Restraints and gags of any variety

Objectification

Kidnapping and captivity

Blackmail, extortion, whumpee having to go along with the whump under extreme duress

Sensory deprivation

Public or broadcast whump

Body modification

Tight spaces/claustrophobia

Asphyxiation (including drowning, strangling, suffocation, etc.)

Mind/body control

Fantasy/sci-fi scenarios

Blood and the removal thereof

Cruel and unusual punishments

Whump where medical accuracy is more of a polite suggestion than a rule

Some things that I'm really not interested in:

Romance/shipping

Villain whumpees or whumper-turned-whumpee

Lady whump

Non-humanoid whumpees, including robot whumpees

Um... let's call it "bathroom activities"

BBU, and any whump where the whumpee doesn't resist or try their best to do so

Amnesia, memory loss, brainwashing

Comedic/crack whump

1st- or 2nd-person POV

Live-action media, particularly photography

I have a page here that lists the topics I always tag for, as well as topics you will never see on this blog under any circumstances. If you decide to give me a follow and there's a trigger or squick that you want me to tag, just let me know.

And, you know. Also let me know if you've got content that you think I will enjoy. I want to consume.

In conclusion:

Hello.

[eternalflashh]

nahida, irminsul, and representations of cognition throughout: an analysis

As the god of wisdom, it is probably intuitive that Lesser Lord Kusanali is depicted as someone omniscient, uber wise, indomitable in logic and without flaw of reasoning. More often than not, though, throughout the archon quest and story quests, we have been shown some of her shortcomings, from her lack of knowledge in certain aspects, and her susceptibility to certain forms of trickery. In this brief analysis we discuss aspects of human cognition and learning, and compare them to aspects from the story, providing evidence for the contrary—that, perhaps, there is no better representation of wisdom in the challenging nature of Teyvat than a god like her.

(Note: I do not claim to be any sort of expert in the topics I discuss here; this is merely a subjective analysis based on what I've learned of cognitive psychology and observed in canon. And, as with everything else I do, I did this simply because I was bored and I like overthinking things. Read at your own discretion.)

To me, Nahida, Irminsul, and Sumeru's stories are almost like this… super well crafted personification of working human intelligence itself. On a larger, fantastical scale, of course.

We know that the Irminsul is Teyvat’s repository of information—basically the brain. We know that Nahida is a branch of Irminsul, a part of that brain. And, well, this “brain” is actually represented in ways that are almost quite realistic, in many senses.

For starters: one of the most important functions of the brain is that it acquires information—that it learns. It accumulates knowledge, and while neurons do break down (and are not easily replaced, if ever), information is actually quite robust and does not “disappear” easily, besides the natural decay of time. There have been cases where people have lost part of their brains to accidents, yet retain their memories and even cognitive functions intact—the brain is actually far more malleable than one may think.

And in fact, you don’t “unlearn” things. You can’t “remove” things from your mind as easily as you imagine it—most of the time, when you “unlearn” or “extinguish” something, you really are just learning a new association that counters the old one. This new association takes time to develop, and spontaneous recovery often occurs—it takes time to “unlearn” something, or to “relearn” concepts. In life, we often have to correct our false preconceptions (not just in science!) and adapt to an ever-changing world—this constant process of unlearning and relearning and correcting is, essentially, what makes us “wiser”—the more we know, the more we understand. It is a constant growth of the mind. 

Nahida, then, being the deity of wisdom who rules over all knowledge, is a form of being where regular learning processes in cognition are essentially amplified: there is no normal degradation of “memory” (as things are stored in Irminsul reliably); there is no loss of information, and yet Nahida is still able to learn new concepts and understand how they relate to the old ones, revise her understanding based on most recent evidence or events. Basically, she learns quicker than mortals with minimal risk of decay; she is a god, this element of hers (arguably) understandably exists. 

But we also know: Irminsul itself is not perfect. We know that memories of Irminsul have, indeed, been deleted or altered. Of course this could easily be chalked up to the fantasy aspect outside of the analogy, but this could still be explained in terms of regular brain anomalies. Deleted memories could be analogous to memory loss in a sense (anterograde amnesia, cf. retrograde amnesia), while altered memories are, in fact, pretty common in real life—perhaps even more so than memory loss, for various reasons pertaining to heuristics, bias, and preconceptions—even though we tend to not realize it at all, unlike the glaring effects of memory loss.

Putting aside the why’s and how’s for now, memory loss is typically more noticeable than altered memory, but either way, the brain can actually accommodate for memory losses/alterations by bending to fit the “narrative” they previously had. The brain doesn’t like inconsistencies and gaps—it will try to explain something in the most coherent way possible with whatever available facts, which is actually a helpful adaptation to have in case we cannot obtain every piece of data we need. (The phenomenon is most common in terms of visual gaps, but is also prevalent with other senses and also with memory. For more, look up constancy bias.) Though, of course, in the case of memory loss or alteration, this isn’t necessarily a good thing. But in fact, this is what Irminsul does—it restructures itself accordingly with what facts are available, constructing a “coherent” narrative that, as we know, is false.

From this, we’ll be branching out to two points. The first is that Nahida’s existence aligns with this analogy in the sense that the removal of knowledge from Irminsul (of which she is an avatar of) is representative of the “weakening” or “shrinking” of the brain. As mentioned previously, this is not in the physical sense, for the case of the brain—but because Nahida is the physical representation of the abstract brain, then it makes sense that she shrunk during the eradication of forbidden knowledge. She lost all that knowledge gained—it would have mean her “growth” and “learning” has essentially reverted, hence she returns to a “younger” form of who she once was (see Nahida’s 2nd SQ) (though in act 5 of the AQ, it was Rukkhadevata splicing a branch off Irminsul itself, the image still stands that what’s left of the knowledge once forbidden knowledge has been taken away is not much). 

Now what, exactly, forbidden knowledge is, we don’t know yet, but how it affects the brain would not be so much of a mystery—there are pieces of insightful or revolutionary findings that can influence plenty of one’s beliefs, or the way one sees and interprets the world, which would then change the way one process information and generates new thoughts in turn. For example, imagine that one day you wake up with the existence of “blue” gone from your mind. Nothing is blue to you—things that you would once call blue will look greenish-yellow to you, even the feeling of “blue” will simply be called “depressed”, or something else, but nothing in the world will be blue to you. That simple “removal” can change a lot of things from how you perceive to how you describe, which is why the effects of removing forbidden knowledge can take a huge toll, or at least a huge change, on Irminsul—hence the big metaphorical brain, hence Rukkhadevata, hence Nahida.

And second, what happened to “Irminsul” being perfect? We cannot call Irminsul a repository of “perfect” knowledge, i.e., that every information it contains is true to the core, because we know the information stored in Irminsul is faulty and malleable. In fact, Irminsul being “perfect” is with respect to its functionality as a brain, as a system. Theoretically, when exposed to true information, a perfect brain should contain only true information. But we know there are forces beyond Teyvat, ones that Irminsul inherently can’t capture/perceive (e.g. the twins). It’s like us not being able to understand a dolphin’s cries, or the color vision of a shrimp, or anything beyond three-dimensional vision—this is inherently the nature of Irminsul itself to not capture that information (with exceptions I'll come to later). Irminsul is still an essentially “perfect” functioning brain, but inherently not designed to capture that beyond its scope. Which then would make sense why it can be altered or robbed of memories in such a way that it would not “break”—it can self-regenerate, it can still function brilliantly. It thinks it functioning perfectly fine means it’s still intact, when in fact, it has been contaminated with false information without it even realizing.

Back again: this is very much like the brain, like human cognition. Because rational humans make judgment based on the available facts, this becomes a problem when your facts are wrong. Usually, with humans, there is a degree of confidence to which you would know whether what you know is right—but if you have a “perfect” brain like Nahida theoretically does, or at least a very highly functioning one, you would have little reason to question your brain. And that, is in fact, her pitfall.

As we've seen from Nahida's second story quest, because she doesn’t have all the facts, she has to make do with what she knows. And she still does that sufficiently, as her godly capabilities should allow. But she also makes decisions that quite mirror her old ones: wanting to eradicate the remnants of forbidden knowledge herself, willing to lose her power and revert her own evolution in favor of apep’s health. One would not make the same decisions if they’ve learned the catastrophic price for it—Nahida is, alas, uninformed now, so she proceeds to make the same mistakes. If it weren’t for the traveler, Nahida would have so easily fallen into the same rabbit hole again; this is what happens when you “erase” memories, or revert time—you are only bound to repeat old mistakes. 

Here I’d also like to briefly mention that because the traveler did not have a good justification for stopping Nahida (they couldn’t, after all), it’s likely that Nahida would not “learn” why this was a bad idea, if not out of sole trust. As in, without the traveler’s continuous intervention, it is highly likely she would fall into this pitfall of her old mistakes one day… or would she?

Aside from her and Irminsul’s story being a very nicely fitting metaphor to the brain, she actually also represents cognitive strategies very well in her speech & personality, which solidifies in the metaphor very neatly. One major thing I'd like to point out is her constant use of analogy—which may sound like a gimmick or just a random personality trait. But in fact, in cognitive research, analogical reasoning has been shown to be a robust predictor of effective learning and success. So the fact that she often spits out seemingly random analogies out of nowhere isn’t just a random trait, but rather, a sign that she is constantly abstracting commonalities between distinct phenomena and learning about them effectively (in contrast to rote memorization). 

This is, in fact, an incredibly important thing—as you might’ve already realized—because it combats the dependence on memorization, which we’ve seen is a problem given the inherent state of Irminsul and malleable memory! And we’ve seen these analogies play a very important factor in the progression of the AQs and SQs, like when she transcribed the truth about Scaramouche/Wanderer in form of a fairytale to preserve it from being lost to the void, or how forbidden knowledge was altered into a different form—the oozing stuff in the Chasm. This is such an important aspect of Nahida’s character because it shows that she understands that the power of transformation or abstraction transcends that of simple mass erasure, and can be used as a manner of preservation. Quite literally, the power of analogy was used to show Nahida’s expertise not only through merely being knowledgeable, but also through creativity, just as its role is in the world.

And most importantly, it does imply that she realizes the shortcomings of her “brain” aka Irminsul. (I hypothesize it’s either an effect of her memory loss (memloss on a wide scale, like retrograde amnesia, would show “loss” effects instead of adaptation, like the symptoms Nahida exhibited) or Dottore’s intervention of telling her about false skies, that makes her realize how much she doesn’t know.) Perhaps this, even, is what Rukkhadevata meant when she said “you will be a better archon than I”, because she already has ways of overcoming these past cognitive flaws as well. This—this realization that your brain can be functioning perfectly and still be flawed, exactly because of its perfect nature—this is the invisible yet solid distinction between being knowledgeable and being wise. And this is why Nahida is the god of wisdom, rather than just a library that contains every information in the world.

In sum: Irminsul and Nahida is a really nice representation, whether intentional or just by pure coincidence and overreach on my part, of a "perfect" functioning brain in a world of unreliable information, and Nahida's ability to abstract hidden symbols to preserve truths addresses this issue quite admirably. All of this nicely manifests in Nahida through little quirks that may be overlooked, but (I suspect) may be very significant to her character and the development of the future plot. Thank you I am Done

[justkending]

Finding Memories. Chapter 24.

Series Summary: Waking up with little to no memory of her past, and being saved by a group of individuals who call themselves heroes, sends a long time captive for a whirlwind trying to find some form of grounding in this world she quickly learns runs on chaos. But she’s not the only one trying to figure out her forgotten backstory. Bucky Barnes, along with the other Avengers, can’t help but sense that there is a lot more to the whole situation than a diagnosis of amnesia. Her background slowly starts to come forward in pieces of her past and hidden information discovered. Who is she? And why was she in the room they were meant to destroy?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced Reader 

Word Count: 2200+

TW: Torture, cussing, gore, PTSD, triggers.  

A/N: I know this one is kinda short and leaves on a cliff hanger, but I promise the story to come will be worth it :) Enjoy and as always, I love to see what all you guys think! XOXOXO

Chapter 24:  

“Feels like I missed a lot today,” Steve sighed as they went a few feet further down the hall to not have her eavesdrop. 

Bucky had been giving him a rundown through text when he could during the day, but he gave him all the details in person now.

“You missed everything,” Bucky ran a hand through his hair with his arms crossed tightly across his chest. “It feels like everything that’s brought us to this point is minimal compared to everything that came up in the last 24 hours.” 

“How is she doing?” he questioned, looking in the direction of the room. 

“I think it’s a lot on her shoulders right now,” Bucky answered honestly, looking at the same door. “I think she hasn’t had a fraction of the time she needs to process it all, and with how fast everything has happened, she doesn’t think she’ll ever have the time to catch up.”  

“Something like this isn’t figured out in a day like it may need to be,” Steve agreed. “Maybe we’ll be graced with the time to get it all sorted before a big fight breaks out, or maybe we’re already behind.” 

Bucky turned to his friend seeing genuine dismay on his face. He didn’t like that his comment was true, but it needed to be voiced either way. 

“You think something else is going to happen before we can prepare?” Bucky asked. 

“I think with the track record that her enemies have created so far, we may have a day or two before they send their next agent in, but I can’t really make that kind of call on this side of things.”

“I feel like we’re sitting ducks,” Bucky groaned, leaning on the wall as his brain was on autopilot trying to come up with solutions. Then he decided what his next move was. He held up a hand, standing straight again. “Do you think Tony would let me borrow his cabin for a bit?”

Steve knew where he was going with that. 

“Do you really think moving her from the most protected place is the best idea?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“She’s already been attacked here. Is it really the safest place?” Bucky countered. 

“Compared to a cabin in the woods? They already showed that their willing to infiltrate a highly armed facility with weapons and security to last. What makes you think a cabin in the woods would be safer outside of being somewhat hidden?”

“I don’t know, ok,” Bucky let out an annoyed moan. “I just hate sitting here waiting for their next move. We don’t know what it’s going to be. How do we prepare if we just wait for them to sneak up on us again?”

“You were out on the trail. The trail is probably the easiest spot to get jumped across this property. It’s not like they sneaked in your room-”

“That’s exactly what they did,” Bucky gave him a straight face. “Remember? The smell, Y/N’s lotion, density changing mutant?” 

“Ok,” Steve relented showing it wasn’t a great example. “But what’s the likelihood of them having two of those.” 

“Wanda was a twin. They both had powers that fulfilled their mission,” Bucky came back with again. 

“OK! Jeez, I get it. The cabin is sounding like an option, but still. It’s not the only or best option. Maybe give it some more thought before you pack her up and head to the woods.” 

Bucky’s face showed he was putting more thought into it, but only in the one idea, Steve was trying to steer him away from. 

“It’s like talking to a brick wall,” Steve said flatly and placed his hands on his hips before looking down. “Look, you’re tired and haven’t had a break just as bad as Y/N. Maybe go sleep on this and tomorrow when both of us have clearer head spaces, we can discuss your options.”

Bucky broke out of his planning and nodded after processing what his friend was saying. 

“You’re right. I need to sleep,” he turned to the bedroom. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Steve said goodnight and they headed back to bed. When Bucky opened the door, he wasn’t sure if he’d find her awake or asleep. But luckily, she was out like a light and curled up to the pillow she had found solace in earlier. 

He couldn’t help the sad smile that marked his lips as he saw her position in a fetal-like ball and her arms strangling the navy-covered pillow. 

He grabbed a blanket from the end of the bed and gently laid it on top of her. He turned off the lamp closest to her and moved to the couch where his side lamp was the only light illuminating the room. 

Looking over the couch he watched as she snuggled closer to the pillow and wrapped the blanket closer to her face. 

He was happy to see that the exhaustion from the day was helping her relax some, even if it came from stressful and traumatic experiences. For now, she was finally resting and that’s all that mattered. 

_________________________________________

A large gasp broke Bucky out of his REM sleep. He didn’t remember falling asleep that hard, but when he blinked open his eyes he noticed just how heavy they were. 

Trying to break out of the spell of his body actually being able to shut down, he sat up and looked where the noise came from. 

Y/N sat up in the bed panting as she quickly threw her legs over the side. 

“What’s wrong?” Bucky’s voice came out raspy and dry. She didn’t answer, but tried to even her breathing and threw her hair out of her face. “Y/N? What’s wrong?” 

He was looking in her direction, but he was still trying to wipe the sleep out of his eyes. 

“I had a dream,” she sputtered out. Her hands were clutching the edge of the bed and the bedspread was wrinkling under her grip. “Not like my normal ones.”

“How so?” Bucky yawned, sitting up and moving to stand. Even if he wanted to go back to bed, he couldn’t until he figured out what had her freaked out. 

She looked at him and then back at her feet as if hesitant to explain her minds nightmares. 

The truth was when she first got there, she had had PTSD dreams where they were based around her traumas, but random things would interrupt them showing they were just dreams. 

Like after they had watched Star Wars; Return of the Jedi, the sand monster had opened a sink hole the facility she used to be in and started eating everyone in it’s path. She was able to get away, but she felt like she was running in quick sand. 

Those dreams were bearable to the memories that seemed to start flooding her mind the more the traumas came back to her. 

Eventually, the dreams stopped and only real and terrifyingly accurate memories played at night. 

But this one was different. 

“Maybe it wasn’t a dream,” she mumbled, talking to herself as she tried to understand what she just saw. “It wasn’t a memory though.” 

Bucky was slowly waking up and stood stretching a little before shuffling over to her. 

“Nightmare?” he asked, voice still groggy. 

She still didn’t respond, but instead got a pull to go to the door that led to the balcony. Bucky quorked and eyebrow at her ignoring him, not because he was offended, but because he wasn’t sure where she was going with this. 

Then he thought back to the night before when that strange thing with the sky happened while she was sleeping. He never had time to think much about it, and honestly, he brushed it off after crazier shit hit the fan. 

“Y/N, you ok?” he asked as she looked mesmerized by the sky as she walked to it. 

“I just need to,” she started, but never finished her sentence. 

“Y/N…” he dragged out, suddenly becoming more conscious of how uneasy this was making him. He took careful steps behind her making sure the distance was minimal between them.

Once she reached the door, she stopped and froze with her hand on the handle, staring up at the night sky that was cloudy seconds ago, but now becoming clearer. 

Bucky watched in concern, yet shock, at how she seemed to be the one doing it as she concentrated looking at the dark almost black sky. 

Then as if the stars had been reminded they were meant to shine, they lit up in a flash before going back to normal just as fast. 

Y/N seemed to snap out of her trance and she released her grip on the door hand, stumbling back slowly. 

She looked like she’d been socked in the gut, and was holding a hand to her abdomen.

“What just happened?” Bucky asked, coming up to her side and looking in her eyes for any kind of clue. 

“I-I don’t know,” she said out of breath. “I saw, a, um,” she stuttered as she tried to formulate in words what she just experienced.

Bucky studied her and placed his hands carefully and slowly on her shoulders before lowering his head to see her eyes clearly. 

“Are you ok, or do you need-?” He stopped midsentence when she looked at him with sheer fear in her eyes. 

“It was a diversion.”

Bucky was taken aback by her seriousness that overcame the fear and confusion from mere seconds ago. 

“What was?” he asked calmly. 

She looked from his shirt back to him and it hit her. 

“Oh, my God,” she sucked in a breath. “It was a diversion.” 

“Y/N-” She turned quickly and without a second to process Bucky was chasing her down the hall as she banged on Nat and Wanda’s door one after the other. 

“Wanda, Nat, get up!” 

“Y/N, what the hell did you see?” Bucky was a step behind her as he watched her frantically bang on the doors. 

“He was sent to distract us,” she mumbled under her breath as she moved back to Wanda’s door and looked down the hall frantically. “Gabriel wasn’t the real threat.” 

“Someone who can walk through walls and become invisible was a diversion? Not the real threat?” Bucky tried to put it all together. 

“What’s going on?” Nat asked, opening her door and Steve peeking out of his own room too. 

“I don’t know how much time we have, but we can’t waste anymore,” Y/N gave her a look, and whether she actually knew the problem or not, Nat didn’t hesitate to believe her. 

Wanda opened her door in the next second and looked exhausted, but tried to wipe it off her face.

“What’s wrong? Are you ok?” she asked forcing a yawn back. 

Y/N didn’t even have to say anything this time and Wanda’s eyes widen once she actually looked at Y/N. 

“Shit.”

“Shit indeed,” Y/N nodded and started walking down the hall at a quick pace. 

“Wanda, do you know what-?” Bucky asked, trying to get something clear. But she waved her hand and in an instant, he knew what Y/N was seeing. “Shit.” 

“What?” Steve jogged to catch up with the four. 

“Remember how I said we were sitting ducks?” Bucky asked.

“Yes.”

“Remember how I said we needed to be far from here?” 

“Yeah…”

“Wouldn’t have worked. They’re already here,” Bucky answered with a stern look to him after they stopped at the elevator with the girls. 

“But-” Steve started and power let out a low hum as if shut off and the emergency lights brightened. 

“They’re already here,” Y/N said looking up at the lights and her body tensed. She turned to Wanda and silently communicated with her. 

“Already on it. Go,” she waved her off, and Y/N gave her a head nod before taking off down the hall in a trained sprint. 

“Y/N!” Bucky turned to chase after her. 

“Don’t. She’s got it. We need to get suited up,” Wanda put a hand out stopping him. 

“She shouldn’t be on her own,” Bucky argued. 

“I don’t think you realize how little time we have to argue that. But for now, I’m going to tell you to get suited up and then we can hunt her down,” Wanda pointed at him with an arched eyebrow. If he didn’t listen, she would make him. 

Bucky knew she was right after learning what woke her from a dead sleep minutes ago. But that didn’t mean he was ok being told what was best, especially when he didn’t agree. 

“Come on,” Steve patted his shoulder and nodded toward the rooms to get suited up. “We aren’t much help if we aren’t prepared.”

He looked back at Wanda pulling Nat to her follow her and gave an unsure nod. 

“Meet us in the basement. She went down to tell Stark,” Wanda instructed. “And boys,” she stopped as they turned back. “Hurry.”

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[quibbs126]

I feel like the more we see the Ancients and Dark Enchantress Cookie, the more the prologue doesn’t make sense

Like, from what the prologue tells us, the Five Heroes fought against Dark Enchantress Cookie, then Dark Enchantress takes the five Soul Jams and they’re shattered, and in the wake of her and Pure Vanilla’s spell clashing, the five heroes, Dark Enchantress Cookie, and the Vanilla Kingdom all disappear (also the rest of their kingdoms are supposed to essentially crumble over time, but that’s less important)

And the game seems to go for the most part with this up until the reveal of Dark Enchantress Cookie’s true identity as White Lily Cookie. But honestly, I think that’s fine. Honestly I think it does work with what the prologue shows of her. Yes there’s now the confusion of why there’s essentially two White Lilies, but there’s also been evidence to show that there’s more to this story that we don’t know, and that there will be an explanation. Everything else however seems to be as we were told

In Pure Vanilla’s storyline, things seem to still line up. Now that Dark Enchantress Cookie has been freed, so have Pure Vanilla Cookie and the Vanilla Kingdom, and while we don’t see it, you could assume so have the others, but perhaps they were just scattered to other corders of Earthbread, hence why we don’t see them. Nothing contradicts that they disappeared too. Pomegranate also mentions how the Soul Jams are in shattered pieces across Earthbread, which we also know from the prologue. She also says that the spell going wrong between him and DE cursed the other Ancients, and yes, he calls it lies initially, the following dialogue implies that it’s true and that he was just telling himself that he didn’t

There is the question of how he suddenly has his whole Soul Jam back, but that’s like the only major contradiction, and it’s not one that’s really touched on. But overall things generally hold up

It’s at Hollyberry’s story that things start to get confusing. Now it does still use the “Soul Jam is shattered” thing (and is frankly the only one to keep that fact, aside from at the end where the Soul Jam suddenly becomes whole again but shush), with her shield’s pieces having been reconstructed over the years, but it’s the other things that start to contradict. For starters, Hollyberry didn’t seem to disappear as a result of the Dark Flour War, rather her disappearance seems to be that she left of her own accord, presumably sometime after the Dark Flour War, implying that she did not disappear. Also her memory problems aren’t like Pure Vanilla’s, since she seems to remember who she is, at least to some degree (I feel like it was very selective what she did and didn’t know, and the whole thing confuses me), but I suppose that doesn’t really matter as Pure Vanilla’s amnesia may just have been some sort of trauma defense thing, and thus just personal to him. I mean, Dark Enchantress remembers who she is

…I felt like I had more contradictions for her, but now I feel like the only major one here is that it’s implied that she didn’t disappear, but she stayed and went back to her kingdom

Oh wait, there’s also the fact that the Hollyberry Kingdom is fine and prospering, other than the whole dragon thing but no one seems too bothered by that. The whole idea that the world is suffering without the Ancients, specifically their own kingdoms, or that they were ever absent, just doesn’t feel like it’s there

But now let’s move on to Dark Cacao’s storyline, which I feel has the most contradictions

Hollyberry’s story feels a bit ambiguous whether the Ancients disappeared, but in Dark Cacao’s it outright says no they did not. Dark Cacao has been here and nothing implies he ever left, at least not for a significant period of time. Also, he has his whole Soul Jam, and again, nothing implies that he lost that or had to reconstruct it. He’s just had it the whole time. Both of these directly contradict the prologue

And while yes, his kingdom is suffering, and it’s partially because he lost his way, it wasn’t because of the Dark Flour War, rather this seems to have been a much more recent development with Affogato Cookie and particularly Dark Choco’s betrayal and exile. While some evidence may suggest things got worse for them after the Dark Flour War (in Dark Choco’s memories, his younger self seems to imply that the kingdom is isolating itself and is worse off for it), but things didn’t reach that breaking point until after Dark Choco’s banishment

Maybe that’s why the Dark Cacao storyline feels weird to me, because the conflict didn’t start because of things that happened in the Dark Flour War, nor does that seem to have had much effect on Dark Cacao or the kingdom, but rather it was because of something entirely separate

But yeah, going back to how things are presented to us now, the Ancients, other than Pure Vanilla alongside Dark Enchantress Cookie, never disappeared, their Soul Jams might have remained whole and with the heroes, and all the kingdoms seem to be doing fine (Dark Cacao’s not so much, but that’s due to external forces). So basically, pretty much all the points we see in the prologue don’t add up

Honestly at some point I start to feel like what happened in the prologue didn’t actually happen and rather that was just a fabricated story, and that we end up seeing what really happened

[multiplicity-positivity]

Hi, I'm George, and I suppose I'm questioning whether or not I am a system. I'm not sure if this is the right place to come for this, but I saw some similar asks on the blog, and doing this myself has been very frustrating, so I figured I might as well try. So I occasionally have these very strange dissociative episodes, where I have these intense screaming arguments in my head with myself. I spent a long time thinking they were just auditory hallucinations, but I'm not so sure about that anymore. In the past year or so I've been under a lot of stress, and some of these arguments have turned into almost calm conversations where I actually start sorting problems out. I've noticed in these conversations I'm both an active and passive participant on both sides, if that makes sense. In addition to this, I often feel like I have multiple identities. I am an atheist, but I sometimes strongly feel I am part of religious groups that I have literally nothing to do with. I'm also transmasc nonbinary, but sometimes I get the idea that I should be transfem, which is always very confusing to me. I will occasionally refer to myself with we/us pronouns on accident, but other than that I've never had the common symptoms of plurality, like amnesia, or people I don't know knowing me, and I'm running out of other explanations. Again, I'm not sure if this is the right place to come, but I couldn't find a better place, and therapy isn't an option for me right now. I'm just not really sure what to do or where to go, so any resources or insight you might be able to offer would be a huge help. Thank you : )

Hiya, George! So we’ve got a few things we can say that might help you :3

Since it sounds like you’re questioning things right now, the best resource we can give you is our resource post for questioning systems! It has a ton of links to articles with info on a bunch of different kinds of systems and plurality. It’s a great place to start for anyone hoping to learn more about multiplicity! >w<

Honestly, we’re not going to be able to confirm or deny whether or not you’re plural… sorry about that! >_<” But! What we can say, is that amnesia is not a requirement for plurality! And as far as dissociative amnesia goes, it’s possible to experience it without really knowing that’s what’s going on! We’ll link a post we wrote on dissociative amnesia, too, in case that might help! :3

We’re not trying to deny or dictate your experience at all here!! Members of our own system didn’t really know or understand that we were experiencing amnesia before we knew about our system, so we thought it was worth it to bring this up >w<

In the mean time, while you’re still learning about yourself and whether or not you’re plural, we’d like to say that anyone who feels like the plural framework is good for them is welcome to use it. So you can definitely call yourself plural if you want, as you are! If you find out later that you’re not actually plural after all… no harm done! It’s okay to question, and it’s okay to be wrong, too :33

Um, one last thing we’ll include here, is a post we wrote on establishing contact with headmates. If you’re questioning whether or not the voices you hear in your mind are other system members, this post might help y’all begin to make connections!

Gosh, we hope that this response here will be useful for you in some way! No matter what you end up deciding or discovering about yourself, we’re wishing you the best of luck with everything!! :3

[cupidsarrowssys]

1. What kind of system are you? (Describe this in any way you like. No need to use -genic or popular terms if you don’t want to)

In the most easy way we can describe ourselves, we are traumaendo, or mixed-origins!! Definetely stressgenic too.

2. How many of you are there?

At the time of writing this, a little over 70+ of us.

3. How long have you known about your plurality?

Depends on who you ask. Some of us knew for months - or even YEARS, but didn’t tell the host. Or at least tried, but were ignored constantly. The host had some denial over it in July of 2022, but finally noticed in September of 2022 when our smajor factive popped in front and was like “hey! you’re not the only person in this body!” and the host ended up finding out through talking to some of our friends. 

4. What kind of spaces/communities do you/did you hang out in? (Both plural-relevant and non-plural-relevant spaces are valid answers, past and present)

A lot of fandom spaces, the kin communites/spaces on here, and more pro-endo spaces on here. 

5. Had you heard of DID/OSDD/DDNOS before you became plural/discovered your plurality?

yes, oh my god, we had. that was enough to get our little host at 14 to question everything before being shunned by relatives when they tried to mention it. Ended up ignoring us for a while before mid-late 2022 happened. They thought we had DID (we don’t, maybe it’s something else entirely), and just ended up becoming more accepting about it through 2022 and up till now. 

6. Do you have a wonderland/innerworld? If so, what do you call it, and what are some things that you and your system members do there?

yep yep, we do have an innerworld. we just call it ‘the mansion’, as that’s what it is for the most part. we really just hang out alot in there and fuck around. i (eret) can recall having a movie night with a few other headmates and our host. we watched mama mia :}

7. What do you call your system members?

headmates/sysmates!!

8. If you’re plural but don’t use the word “system” to describe you&, what word do you use?

collective or flamobyance!!

9. What are some of the best things about being plural?

honestly? meeting people who have similar and different experiences like us. the communiity and our friends are really chill, and we love them dearly!! <3

10. What are some of the not-so-great things about being plural? (Any answer is valid- nothing is too minor or too major to be an answer to this question.)

crowding is not super enjoyabel, especially in high amount of people. it’s not the end of the world - we don’t mind it - but it makes us blurry and gives us headaches. that and some sort of amnesia that makes us miss out on things in the world, like holidays, birthdays -- and even our upcoming graduation in three months.  there’s so many things in life that we all want to be a part of! but the amnesia between us may make it impossible for us all to enjoy it togehter. 

11. Do you have a spiritual or psychological view of your plurality?

i don’t know? i think it’s definitely a more psychological view than anything. not sure what this question means either way. 

12. Do you ever experience “switching” or “posession” or any sort of change in who controls the body? If so, what do you call it, how easy/difficult is it, and what is it like? Were you always able to do this, or did you have to learn how over time?

we do experience switches!! they vary between easy and difficult , and it really feels like that person is stepping beside us or stepping where we once stood , if that makes sense?

13. How do you and your system mates relate to each other? (Are you friends, family, romantically involved, caretakers, etc.)

really depends , in all honesty. for the most part, aqauintences works? theres definetely a good amount of friendships in out collectives, and we have a few romantic relationships (and a queer-platonic relationship) between some headmates. 

14. Have you come out to anybody in real life/in a singlet space about your plurality? How did it go?

irl? no, and we intend to keep it that way - unless we know the person/people well enough. in singlet spaces (online)? yeah! it actually went really well. they were completely accepting and cool with it.

16. What are you and your system members interested in?

a lot of minecraft smps, writing things, drawing, character creation, roleplay, and watching movies/shows.

17. What is your life like in the meatworld?

very simple ig? yet also stressful? we’re a high school student collectively, and are almost graduated from that school. our classes are really cool, and we’re with a bunch of neat people. we have a lot of great friends (love u guys <33 /p), and we’re in therapy, so that’s cool! also just vibing as a collective fictionkin too! definetely dealing with school + aro struggles, along with social anxiety too lol

18. What are your music tastes? Movies? Favorite colors? Animals? List any other favorites as well

collectively, our music taste is all over the place. we favour rock/soft rock a lot, and dad rock. we really like the colours blue and purple, and *two-thirds* of us like cats, while the other third likes other animals. we don’t really have a favourite movie/show, and yeah.

19. Does your system have a host/original? If so, what do you call them? Explain what role they play in your system

yep! our host’s name is noel/joey/faolan! they’re literally just the host - they usually front a LARGE chunk of the time, but alas, they are in innerworld and have been since December. <3

20. Do any system members have notable relationships outside of the system? Explain them!

Honestly, a lot of friendships with a bunch of cool people - plural and singlets alike. we get along with a lot of our friends - if not, all of them - and they’re honestly great! we love them so much and are grateful as FUCK to have met them!! <333

23. Is there anything you’d like to say to the plural community at large?

regardless of your origins, you are all so, SO valid, and we love you guys <3 /p

24. Is there anything you’d like to say to any singlets reading this post?

we love you guys too! hope you’re all having a great day/night <3

Sysmeds should not get to write the narrative about us on this platform!

Scrolling through the tags, it seems like a great deal of what's said about us on tumblr is either sysmeds trying to make us look bad or all-encompassing plural blogs that just say everyone is valid (which is great! and these blogs should keep doing what they're doing! but it would be nice to have some more frequent endo (and other) representation on here too!)

Either my tumblr algorithm just sucks major balls, or most endos, tulpas, spiritual systems and other non-sysmed-approved systems get scared off of this platform because of how many loud hateful voices there are compared to how few people there are who we can relate to. (like most of the cool-looking accounts i can relate to that i find are dead and so is my blog for the same reason lol).

SO! Let's do a thing. If you are endogenic, parogenic, a tulpamancy system, a spiritual system, a daemien, or any other kind of system that sysmeds try to silence, reblog this post with answers to these questions to tell tumblr what our lived experiences as plurals are REALLY like!

(Feel free to pick and choose which questions you want to answer, or just come up with your own and tag them under #endovoices or substitute endo for whatever kind of system you are! Also, feel free to just reblog with one answer at a time, or to just answer the questions in a standalone post; no need to credit me, I just want more systems sharing their experiences!)

1. What kind of system are you? (Describe this in any way you like. No need to use -genic or popular terms if you don't want to)

2. How many of you are there?

3. How long have you known about your plurality?

4. What kind of spaces/communities do you/did you hang out in? (Both plural-relevant and non-plural-relevant spaces are valid answers, past and present)

5. Had you heard of DID/OSDD/DDNOS before you became plural/discovered your plurality?

6. Do you have a wonderland/innerworld? If so, what do you call it, and what are some things that you and your system members do there?

7. What do you call your system members?

8. If you're plural but don't use the word "system" to describe you&, what word do you use?

9. What are some of the best things about being plural?

10. What are some of the not-so-great things about being plural? (Any answer is valid- nothing is too minor or too major to be an answer to this question.)

11. Do you have a spiritual or psychological view of your plurality?

12. Do you ever experience "switching" or "posession" or any sort of change in who controls the body? If so, what do you call it, how easy/difficult is it, and what is it like? Were you always able to do this, or did you have to learn how over time?

13. How do you and your system mates relate to each other? (Are you friends, family, romantically involved, caretakers, etc.)

14. Have you come out to anybody in real life/in a singlet space about your plurality? How did it go?

15. What kinds of forms and appearances do your system members take on?

16. What are you and your system members interested in?

17. What is your life like in the meatworld?

18. What are your music tastes? Movies? Favorite colors? Animals? List any other favorites as well

19. Does your system have a host/original? If so, what do you call them? Explain what role they play in your system

20. Do any system members have notable relationships outside of the system? Explain them!

21. If you haven't been plural for your entire life/haven't known about your plurality until later in life: what was life like before plurality compared to life now?

22. If you chose to become plural: why? What has changed since then?

23. Is there anything you'd like to say to the plural community at large?

24. Is there anything you'd like to say to any singlets reading this post?

That is all I've got for now, but feel free to add any more you want to share! Please remember to be respectful to all system types if you post, I do not support bashing or invalidating of any system types. I will also reblog with my own answers soon.

(Note: these questions are not in order of priority or importance, I just wrote them down as I came up with them. Feel free to answer out of order and skip or add whatever you want!)

Also this should go without saying but making any rude sysmeddy responses to this will just result in being blocked and totally ignored, so don't even start, there's no point. The block button is right there.

Have fun everyone!

[furiouskettle]

So there’s been a LOT of fics about Ingo going back home, or Emmet going to the past, and i’ve definitely been inspired a bit by Detours...

but what if Rei got teleported to the future instead of either of them?

I’m no writer, and i only have so much comic juice (and i havent even played Arceus) so i’m not gonna polish these any further... but i wanted to share it anyway. more thoughts and even messier scribbles under the cut!

Some ideas, most of them copypasted from me and my friend’s chats, ordered approximately in chronological order. (C= me, Y=friend)

 Rei is fully convinced the train is some sort of horrible alpha pokemon nightmare beast the first time he sees it.

Y: he hears it coming and is like "oh shit oh fuck is it a steelix???? oh god i've only ever seen the one akari brought back to pasture i can't confront one oh god oh no" and then it's a train and he's just "THIS IS WORSE SOMEHOW???"

Y: this poor child is going to have a heart attack

Emmet doesn’t consider Rei a legitimate lead at first- he’s hardly the first kid to try and find the missing subway master in the subway...

Y: on the one hand rei probs doesn't know about the Time Travel and ancestors/descendants of people he knows on the other him just awkwardly trying to convince himself "ah they must be... related..." before Emmet is like "8> no shit sherlock"

(i think im leaning towards no idea abt time travel)

C: man tho. like. rei saying that ingo never said anything abt a brother would sting emmet So Much Y: like i imagine even with rei saying he's got amnesia it would still hurt in that way where he knows it's illogical but surely he would remember. surely. C: and like. rei wouldnt know that ingo vaguely remembers but also its funny that rei would mention that ingo remembers So Many Train Phrases despite never saying what a train IS Y: rei, genuinely never more confused in his life: well at least one thing makes more sense now

Y: rei starts asking all these weird questions about extremely simple terminology and emmet suspects the kid is fucking with him but every answer he gives rei is so earnestly like "80 OH MAN I GET IT NOW" C: and like. then the kid namedrops hisui, and like. idk how good emmet's history is so either it's like. "where?" or "why are you using the outdated name" Y: i honestly imagine he'd just be like "that's not a station on this line. where did you get on" and they go in circles on that for a bit Y: eventually he says he's from Jubilife and Emmet goes "that is verrrry far away. you did not come here by train" and rei is like "i said that!!!! many times!!!!!!"

I feel it might take a while for it to sink in for rei just how far away from home he is, both geographically and chronologically.

C: also im just imagining rei just sitting politely w a cup of tea in the breakroom and some kinda vending machine snack emmet got him fbjfvgcd ill prolly have to add the electric type leader lady to the au mix just so emmet won't go too hard on rei

Y: rei explicitly says his thick layered clothes are to protect him better against pokemon attacks so i imagine elesa finding him a nice outfit (bc emmet would not care) and he's just internally sweating "aaa i'm so exposed aaaaa" C: get him a denim jacket tough material might make him feel a bit better Y: at his most powerful in a Joutfit C:no pokemon will get him now Y: i'm basically imagining him piecing together "wait akari is from here????" based purely on seeing T-shirts and going "oh damn i remember that stupid outfit"

Y: also i am imagining emmet being very focused on the ingo side of things and kind of treating poor rei as an afterthought but eventually rei just breaks down bc he's a kid and he's scared and he wants to go home Y: emmet is not the subtle or assuring type but he can use the reminder that there's more than one reason to figure this out

Y: i imagine him (rei) getting super claustrophobic in crowds just like. oh god there's so many people. there's so many strangers and he's so small and lost and how is he ever supposed to find a way--

[cosmos-coma]

Prey of the Hunt- Chapter 5

A/N: This one took a little while, but I finally just decided to just cut the chapter I was working on in half because it was getting too long anyways. Have you figured out who you are yet? Make your theories before the next chapter comes out!

Pairing: Eskel x Reader

Warnings: reader with (temporary) amnesia, Non-verbal reader (also temporary),  Traumatized reader, Game canon characters/lore.

Word count: 3k

Chapter Summary: You find yourself reveling in innocent touches between you and Eskel and hard training with the other Witchers of the Keep, but you're... better with one of these weapons than you expected...  and now Geralt's suspicions have seemed to come back.

Chapter 6

_____________________________

It’s been a few weeks now since your incident in town; autumn has since come to a close and snow has started to fall every once in a while, though it never seems to stay very long. 

With the changing of seasons, you find that you have changed as well. Your injuries have started to scab over, your stitches have since been removed, and your fingers are starting to look better too. You were finally starting to feel like a real person again, mentally and physically.

You had since told everyone about your dream from that night, writing it all down so nothing would get lost in translation about how you finally remembered your earlier life and meeting Eredin.  However, Eskel was still the only one who knew what you saw in that mirror, but even then, he had only heard about it not seen it. You never went into detail about the way it looked at you or the uniqueness of the helmet. 

You had dreamt since that night, most of it was little things, however. You’d get flashes of your early life, your mother teaching you Elder, or your father and you catching chickens, it was pleasant. Every so often, though, you’d get short dreams of a place you had never seen before, filled with unfamiliar plants and animals, and a shining city. You had hoped for something more definitive and telling soon though.

“Good morning.” Vesemir greeted as you came into the kitchen, ready to help you during your morning cooking breakfast. 

Ever since it became clear that you’d started to take a more long-term residence in the Keep, Vesemir bestowed upon you more chores here and there. All of which you were more than happy to receive, it let you feel like you were pulling your weight around here and it gave the other Witchers a little reprieve regarding their own chores too. 

You waved pleasantly to him as you ducked inside, immediately getting out your materials and ingredients. 

“Any new dreams?” He asked earnestly, and you quickly nodded. 

“A small one.” you motioned with your hands. “Scenes of winter outside Brugge, and lots of bodies laying around. ” you continued, expelling a sigh. 

Vesemir had taken the strongest interest in your dreams of everyone at the keep. Whenever he heard you had had another he was right there to help you figure them out. He was the only reason you had started being able to put names to some of these places you were seeing and get some vague sense of clarity. And though He definitely could be a hard ass with you sometimes, you were starting to see why these younger Witchers saw him as a father of sorts. 

“Hmm.. that’s a new one.” He said, partially lost in the thoughts and implications of it. “and farther out from the other villages you've dreamed of. We’ll have to add it to the map later.” He finished with a nod and you couldn’t help but smile at his commitment. “On a different note- I have a new chore for you today.”

“What’s that?” you asked, brows drawn together in interest as you set down the bowl of batter you were preparing. 

“Well, seeing as your wounds have healed nicely and you seem to be moving easier, I want you to train with everyone today.” He stated and watched for your reaction as he continued. “Because- well, I may be old, but I’m not blind- I can see how close you and Eskel have gotten…”

Your cheeks and neck instantly burned bright red as you blushed and your lips began to stammer, trying to find the words to respond to this. Despite fumbling with your words for a short time in the end you could only nod and try to casually look back down at your batter. 

Of course, the older Witcher saw all of this but only smiled a bit and waved his hand to continue on his topic. “... But come spring there won’t be much of anything left for you here. And no matter what you do- If you decide to walk beside him on the path or just… make yourself a new life somewhere, it’ll be good for you to know how to defend yourself.”

Once you finally got over your bashful moment and your cheeks felt less heated, you nodded in agreement. It was a good idea, you had to admit- especially if the Wild Hunt were to show up again. Though you suspected Vesemir had already thought of that and just didn’t want to worry you by bringing the situation to light. 

By the time you brought out breakfast, all the younger Witchers had already taken their seats at the table. As you got closer, you could hear Lambert’s excited ramblings about the latest bomb you two had been perfecting. 

“Okay, so when it explodes it splatters out a slime that covers the enemy and slows it down. It took a while to get the mixture of arachnomorph webbing and siren slime to the perfect consistency, but I think we finally managed, I mean that shit was in my hair for days…” He said with a wide grin. 

“Mine too....” You thought to yourself, feeling the now much shorter piece of hair on the side of your head.

“And what exactly do you two call this fancy new bomb?” Geralt asked with an amused smirk that might as well have been written in bold all over his face. 

“It’s the…! uh, Slug…Launcher…?” He said, eyes darting around as if the room was going to reveal the perfect answer to him. “Look, we haven’t gotten that far, okay? We’ve only just wrapped up the first tests,” he tried to explain over Geralt and Eskel’s raucous laughter. 

“My vote is for Slug Launcher,”  you mouthed with a grin, sliding in next to your honey-eyed Witcher, and putting your hand on his arm.

“Ah, I know Lambert can come up with something far more ridiculous. So I’ll hold my vote for now,” Eskel commented and turned to you with a smile that you swore could move mountains if he wished. 

By other’s standards, you and Eskel were moving rather slowly. You two had only shared innocent touches so far, the gentle caress of a cheek as he held you after a sour dream or the slow intentional brushing of fingers as you worked side by side. They were small and subtle, but they were comfortable to you and comfort was just what you needed. 

You loved the way Eskel made you feel; the way his smile each morning caused a fluttering in your chest, the ease you felt in his presence like nothing could go wrong, the way he served you breakfast now before he even served himself. 

However, your mind and heart were heavy right now, and he knew that. Trying to figure out who you were and where you belonged has taken up a lot of space in your mind, leaving only a portion of you left to think about the inclinations of your own heart. Though just because you didn’t have a lot left of you to think about it didn’t mean you wanted to ignore them completely. 

You smiled and squeezed Eskel’s forearm as he set your breakfast in front of you, your hand only lingering as it trailed down and quickly squeezed his hand as well. 

It wasn’t much, but you could still see the way his golden eyes melted a bit as your loving touch grazed his skin. You and Eskel continued to eat breakfast, going back and forth with grazing fingers and gently knocking knees until Vesemir told everyone to finish up and make their way out to the courtyard.

“Alright…” Vesemir began when you all finally gathered around. “ Y/n is going to be joining us for training today. Y/n, since we don’t know where your skill level with a sword is yet, we’ll have you start by watching a round. Then you can jump in for a test run.” 

You nodded as your hands rubbed nervously against your legs, sure that you were getting in over your head, but you couldn’t really say no to this, nor did you want to. 

The younger witchers donned their armor, a second skin at this point, and grabbed their weapons, pairing off; Vesemir with Geralt, and Eskel with  Lambert. As Vesemir finished counting them all in they sprung at each other with steps like that of lightning, as quick as they were silent.

You tried to mentally take notes, but they often were just moving too fast for you to keep good track of all of them. 

“Okay, Eskel goes with a more defensive route, Lambert Offensive, Geralt is more of a mix, and Vesemir responds to whatever his opponent uses.” That was about all you could take in as the raucous clanging of swords reverberated in your ears and made the rest of your thoughts a fuzzy static. 

They seemed to get a few hits in on each other here and there, though you suggest that decades of training against one another had brought them all to even footing when it came to their fighting skills. But what style were you supposed to use? You didn’t even know who you were supposed to practice with yet. 

“Alright, that’s good..!” Vesemir called out and all the guys paused mid-swing, pulling their swords back and looking over as they waited for what was next. 

“Y/n? Think you can do something like that?” the older man asked, handing you a wooden sword so you wouldn't hurt yourself. 

“Uh… sure, of course,” you replied, very unconvincingly, but still quickly pulled on the leather armor he offered to you. “Who am I fighting?” you asked, nervous to go against any of them, honestly. You’d rather be going up against the one-armed wooden dummy in the corner over there. 

“You’ll be training with Geralt,” he explained, handing the witcher a wooden sword of his own. “Geralt’s mix of offense and defense will hopefully give you a better idea of what you prefer when you fight.”

You were sure they all could hear the loud GULP you swallowed as you moved into the space opposite Geralt. Nerves wracked you, But…  you used a branch as a club when the Wild Hunt first came for you, so you must know a little bit about fighting, right? 

Right?

“Alright, are you two ready? Then on your marks…” Vesemir spoke. 

Blood rushing in your ears was about the only thing you could hear as you took a ready stance. Realistically you had nothing to worry about, but your muscles still felt taut in anticipation 

“Go!” Vesemir yelled, the only thing that got past the static rushing in your ears. 

Immediately Geralt came in with a swing toward your side, not holding back his inhuman speed as he trained against you. You were sure you were going to miss it as you went to block, but… but you did it? You did it! 

The genuine look of surprise on your face was reflected in that of Geralt, who also didn’t expect you to block it either. Your small victory was short-lived as he quickly composed his expression again and came at you once more. 

You were clumsy, that was certain,  but it was like something in the back of your mind had awoken, and it knew how to defend itself. You let your mind become warm static as you continued the fight, blocking Geralt’s blows, and occasionally taking a swing as you saw openings. You had been growing tired of the feelings of deja vu you had had lately, but this one you welcomed. Training against Geralt felt more familiar than anything had so far. Your body anticipated many of his moves as he made them and allowed you to block most of his blows, but your sword still felt too unwieldy, too light in your hands. 

Geralt’s eyes continued to ring with surprise as you blocked more and more of his swings as time went on. As your wooden swords clacked together in the silence of the courtyard, he felt something recognizable tugging at the edges of his memory. He could have sworn all his memories had come back after he and Yennefer worked through them but now he began to grow doubtful. 

Things were going decently for you when out of nowhere, Geralt switched up his swing and instead came down on you like a hammer with his sword. A yelp rose from your throat as you quickly brought your sword up, gripping what would have been the blade as you held it above your head in an attempt to block. The hit came down hard and sent shockwaves down your arms and body, even causing the wooden swords to crack a little bit internally. 

“Okay, Stop! That’s enough…” Vesemir called and came closer to your duo. 

You hadn’t realized how loud you were breathing, how much effort you were putting forward until the fighting had stopped. Your blood still rushed around your ears but was now beginning to quiet down. 

Vesemir rubbed his hand down his face and turned towards you as he spoke. “You were doing so well to start off with, but that block you did right there would have cut your hand clean in half if you were holding a real sword. You’re blocking as if you’re using a-” Vesemir’s face went from mildly frustrated to a sudden look of enlightenment. “Wait here…” the Old Witcher mumbled and quickly ran off back inside the keep.

Quietly looking around at the other Witchers you mouthed out “Did I… do something bad?”

Lambert’s face only conveyed a quiet approval, while Eskel’s face was tinted red in the blush he developed from watching you fight. Geralt though was the one to speak up.

“Besides your block? Not really, but… I don't remember fighting you before. So why did that feel routine to me?” His expression was serious, mouth in a tight line like you would expect from “emotionless” Witchers. What hurt though, was that the suspicion and caution you thought you two had grown past was back. You thought he had loosened up into something akin to a good friend, but now you worried you were back to step one.

“Me too,”  was all you managed to respond before Vesemir came running back with a large stick in hand- No, a staff?

“Try this instead, I think this might be more what you’re used to.” He said, handing it to you and taking your wooden sword away. It was a heavy wooden staff, its weight comfortable and fitting in your hands. 

You gave it a slow twirl as a grin crept its way over your face, it wasn’t perfect, but it still felt right and you knew you had found a piece of your past. You weren’t entirely sure how this would fit in yet, but knowing this much brought you comfort.

Vesemir had the hint of a proud smile as he stepped back, “alright, let’s go again.” He said, motioning for you and Geralt to get back into position. 

“Actually-” Geralt, interjected a faint frown lining his features, “I think I’m gonna watch this one. Eskel can take it instead.” He said, tossing the wooden sword to his brother. 

“Me? Alright…” Eskel replied, catching the tossed sword and coming over to Geralt’s spot as he moved next to Vesmir, arms crossed. 

“Don’t be gentle,” you assured your witcher and assumed your ready position. You were feeling more confident in your abilities and figured that if you were going to learn to defend yourself- well they say offense is the best defense, right? 

“When you’re ready… go!” Vesemir instructed and stood back to watch.

This time you were the one who rushed in to strike first, your movements, while not as smooth as a Witchers, were more sure than your previous ones. It was perfect against Eskel’s more defensive tactics, though you suspected throughout the skirmish that he was holding back. Here and there you knew you had accidentally left yourself open, yet he still didn’t take the opportunity. 

A frustrated frown drew itself over your face as he kept skipping over chances to get you. Was he afraid to hurt you? Was he distracted? After minutes into the fight, you finally let out a frustrated grunt and swept your staff against Eskel’s feet causing him to fall back onto the ground with a loud THUD.

“Oh!” You exclaimed as you watched your Witcher fall backward, surprised at yourself. “Are you okay?” you asked, rushing over to take his hand.

A crimson blush stained Eskel’s cheeks as he looked up at you from the ground, a clear sense of arousal swirling in the pool of his eyes. “Yeah… I’m Great…” He finally responded, a little breathy as he looked on at you standing above him.

“Alright, love-birds. No one wants to see you plough each other in the courtyard- HEY!” Lambert yelled as you threw your staff at him, hoping he would be distracted by your staff and not see the rosy blush that passed over you at the thought. 

As you reached your hand down to help Eskel up, you took a glance over at the others and noticed that Geralt and Vesemir were no longer watching, and instead were whispering amongst each other. 

As you “helped” pull your mountain of a witcher off the ground and tapped his arm gently, pointing to them. “Can you..?” you mouthed. 

“What are you two whispering about now?” Eskel asked for you, also rather curious as it wasn’t often things that were kept secret in the Keep, let alone between brothers. 

Geralt looked to his brother as he paused in contemplation for but a moment, before a certain and solemn look fell over him. “Fighting styles… That’s all.”

_______________________________________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @open--till--midnight @dark-academia-slut

[ambulonflakes]

(Continuation from @classychassiss’s Keep reading)

Functionalism is directly tied to the Quintessons in Aligned, as is the implication that they went in and modified their very code and bodies to have cockpits and space to be used as transportation. So much trauma they inflicted that the Well of Sparks started to spit out bots that had no name, just a streamlined function, the Quitessons laid out the blueprint for the caste system down the line and later on in the novels, they are STILL hell bent on getting both revenge and copying the very holy code of the Matrix and Vector Sigma. Cybertronians apparently were SO scarred by this that they just straight up repressed it like some kind of collective amnesia ( which 1-800-Come-On-Now writers, I know you can do better than that ) I don’t think they explicitly ever state if the Quitessons were driven out before any Cybertronians were taken off planet to be slave labor or no, but that was the goal.

I think there is one continuity or two that has Quintessons use the Matrix/Primus/Vector Sigma specifically to create and control Cybertronians and isn’t THAT a horrifying thought?

G1 is the most in depth obviously, Cybertron their home planet was a FACTORY, they were made to be sold and used as manual labor on Cybertron until they gained full sentience and rebelled, and the after they had to both rebuild AND deal with the after shocks of their coding and divide, with lots of the War based mechs unable to cope beyond fighting amongst themselves before things got heated between their commercial Autobot counterparts, again because of practices kept around from Quintessons times (the Gladiatorial pits etc ) did things get nasty and the fighting turn into a full blow Civil war

Do you ever think about any efforts made post Quintesson rule to like...get Cybertronians back? There are outposts and colonies/communities of bots out in space with no knowledge of modern Cybertron beyond a very primitive understanding of either being an Autobot or Decepticon, and while some seem to know about the war, others like Paradron existed by themselves for a long time. That at least implies that yeah, many bots were brought or sent around the universe before any sort of rebellion happened. Do you think they had to go and get back the ones who were used as War Tools and like...just seeing what sort of damage that did to them, slowing growing sentience without the support of their own kind? Or how in attempts to branch out to meet new planets, there were some races who saw friendly Cybertronians and cowered because all they knew them as were potential war tools? Or the reverse where Cybertronians had to run the gambit that they might make contact with a planet that actively brought and used them? Do you think they lashed out during that Golden Age and these things were just...not talked about? Bots coming back from strange places, carrying a kind of trauma not really well understood against whatever mainland trauma was already happening?

IDK theres a lot of stuff in there, the colonization and exploration I know has been touched on in IDW I think so I’d have to go read that but like, just purely me talking through the lens of Quintessons and invaders and what that did to their psyche, whether that manifested in outright Xenophobia or if the need to expand outwards rather aggressively was like, a very strong reaction to what felt like a Reclamation of their autonomy more or less, because they wanted to separate themselves from whatever image the Quintessons had painted of them and WANTED to have the right to explore space and meet new planets as this new, free race....

It feels like in most of the media, none of these ideas are brought up or addressed and this isn’t me saying they SHOULD be (though I think it would be great, the bits and pieces we get are just a lot to chew on) but rather, just like in a meta sense, I wonder if they really actually weren’t fully addressed in-universe, y’know? Like its NOT a pretty time in their lives among the many interplanetary conflicts going on, I wouldn’t be surprised if much of this WAS just lost or shoved away into textbooks and tomes and old bots who told stories, and if those survivors were just....forgotten in the midst of whatever Functionist or Caste based system was going on on Cybertron. Would ANYONE be surprised by that given what ends up happening down the line? What lessons were gleaned from that time, bot by bot? A collective push to just straight up forget that they were ever involved in this?

I just think its interesting and sad and depending on what universe we’re talking about, how much that plays into the morals and ideas of Cybertron in a very meta sense

I think the Quintessons are such a dark, integral part to the fabric that makes up Transformers lore, in multiple continuities or in a mix, and its not often addressed in great detail but like, not just by us, but also Cybertronians themselves? I could be bugging and it could be because past G1, their role as their ‘creators’/oppressors has been underplayed as a note in history for those who remember or just as ‘an invasion’ because the focus is obviously on Autobots v Decepticons. And yet they STILL carry a huge weight in most of the media, whether they are there or not. Er cut because a bit long and rambly

Keep reading

[blzzrdstryr]

Galatea

Yandere(?) Albedo x gn!reader

Wordcount: 2410

CW: Panic attacks, hallucinations, slight dehumanization.

...and his creation was so beautiful: silent and non judgemental, pure and demure, it would endure any of his whims of love and passion.

Albedo looks calm as usual as he scoops the honey from the beehive, even though he doesn’t wear any protection; Bees are angrily buzzing nearby, but otherwise not attacking him. It would look strange to you if you didn’t know the answer: insects are not real. The alchemist created them, turning pure slabs of carbon, water and organic matter into tiny fuzzy bodies, as you watched the scene with wide eyes, one moment and a non-living becomes living. He commented on the whole process and while you tried your best to listen to him there were so many scientific terms and jargons in his speech that after some time you zoned out, preferring to observe the birth of insects instead.

There are bones and flesh and organs growing and fusing together. They writhe and convulse as blood starts to fill them. Whose body is it?

“Is this for examination too?”, you remember that Albedo was collecting honey several days ago, albeit in much lesser quantities, and when you asked what the alchemist was doing, he said it was for comparative analysis.

“Well, you could say that” alchemist looks at the full jar and closes the lid, “Previous analysis showed that this honey has the same compounds as the natural one in the same proportions and isn’t dangerous for consumption”. You nod, urging him to continue - even though Albedo isn’t the chattiest person, you noticed how talkative he becomes when you ask him for explanations.

“Smell and taste are usually dependent on the composition, but there is always a place for exceptions, so I decided to conduct another experiment, one that needs your help”

You raise eyebrows - alchemist, despite actually enjoying your company, usually didn’t disclose much of his work :“Is that so? How can I help?”

Small smile appears on his lips, subtle and controlled, “I want you to taste it”. He looks happy.

You have seen that smile long before. You can’t remember where.

You hate sweets, but there's something stopping you from declining. It's bone-deep and chilling, woven into every fiber of your flesh. You can’t get out the needed words, even if you wanted, with your lips somehow shutting tight at the mere thought. There's something stopping you from saying "no" to Albedo and you assume it's gratitude.

***

The honey turns out to be as sickly sweet as the one from the real bees. You frown, as you take another sip of tea, trying to wash down the saccharine taste from the tongue. Albedo sits in front of you and scribes something in his notebook, throwing occasional glances at you from time to time.

“It seems that we’ll need to keep this secret from Klee” you muse, no longer tasting the nectar on your tongue.

“Why so?” he asks, still writing - his handwriting is too small for you to see from this distance. You could stretch your neck to have a better glimpse, but it would be rude to do, so you refrain, curiosity still nipping at you.

“Well, you know what a big sweet tooth she is, and if she learns that your bees don’t sting...”

“But they do sting, just not me”.

“Why?”

“Bees were created with my will, so they just can’t. It’s against the nature of alchemical creation to oppose its creator”

You hum, processing the new information and guessing how far he would teach you that in your own alchemy lessons. You are far behind Sucrose or Timaeus in your studies, still stuck on basics, but Kreideprinz doesn't look displeased or bored with you. In contrast, mentoring you is something he really likes, judging by the rare smiles he allows himself to show. He proposed to teach you one day and you couldn't find it in yourself to turn him down.

You thought it was strange at first how the recluse seemed to favour you, but then as you familiarized yourself with a man you realized that he liked all things unseen and unheard before and your selective amnesia must be the one.

There are large gaps in your memory, but you can remember some small moments - peeking into a cave and plunging deeper into a forest out of curiosity, spending hours in the library, completely captivated by the book before you, feeling satisfied from finally solving an advanced math problem.

None of the memories include people.

It's an identity forming memories, Albedo theorized when you shared your concerns, experiences shape who we are, [First], and maybe that's why you retained them, they define you.

Were you as reclusive as him then?

A bit later you see what Albedo was drawing: a familiar bird and decapitated head. You are disturbed - how does he know my dreams?

***

Mondstadtians are weird, it’s the first time you leave Albedo’s lab and side, deciding to take a quick stroll around the city and look around. Some look at you with wide eyes, as if you just grew a second head before their eyes, some shamelessly whisper things to each other.

The knight that was assigned to look after you for the duration of the walk is no better than them. He also treats you like some sort of oddity, with all that persistent glances and hesitancy to interact with you.

What kind of person old you were to prompt such a reaction?

Walking along the streets of the city you can't remember any of it. Books that mentioned amnesia and other memory related issues stated that visiting once familiar places can help with overall recollection. Walking along the streets of the city you can't recollect any of it, memories slipping past your fingers like water.

You can’t remember the blue cloudless sky above, or the deep clear lake of the same shade or the gentlest breezes playing with your hair. You can’t recall the bright red roof tiles, or the giant windmills that dwarf other buildings, or the statue of the anemo archont overseeing the city. You can't think of once being among the other idle citizens, of praying and worshipping Barbatos, of participating in the windtrace or Ludi Harpastum. There’s emptiness where a familiarity should be, a dull ache rotting and festering at the back of your mind - I don’t belong here, I never did.

You don’t feel like a part of Mondstadt, not even a single part of you does. There’s an invisible yet unbreakable wall separating you from other people. You can smile and chat and be all polite and nice, yet there’s always a certain coldness and caution others treat you with. You want to be both accepted and left alone, feel loved yet be distant enough to avoid any emotional hurt.

Of course, there are people who managed to get close to you - Albedo and Klee, with the former one being your official caretaker and mentor and the latter being as bright as the Sun, you doubt there’s anyone that couldn’t fall under little girl’s charms, except acting Grandmaster Jean.

That must be why you act so warm towards them, why you decide to bare your soul and feelings towards them, no matter how scary it can be. That’s why you play with Klee, engaging her in less destructive entertainment than the fish blasting and that is why you never refuse Albedo in any of his requests, be it a quick walk on a sunny day or assistance in his experiments.

***

A familiar dream.

You see a giant owl, it's yellow eyes piercing right through you. It's a majestic creature, with snow white fluffy feathers and razor sharp talons. Bird looks at you with all knowing eyes, and then spreads its wings, soundlessly flying in your direction. You dodge it, still marvelling at its grace, as the bird continues its way to the giant head laying behind you.

You turn back still tracing the bird's flight, eyes then turning to the bodiless head. It has the face of an aged man with wise eyes, it's lips move silently chanting. There's something hypnotizing in the chant - listen to me and you will now, listen to me and I will tell you, listen to me and you will learn things that he doesn’t want you to know.

You take a step, hand outstretched to touch it. It burns your skin, and the world around you darkens, all sounds stop and soon enough darkness consumes the bodiless head too, leaving you all alone.

A memory comes.

You're absolutely naked and shivering with Albedo hovering above you. He says something but you can’t understand the words, liquid(?) in your eyes and ears. You hear Sucrose and Timaeus in the background too and how excited they sound.

You turn your head, catching the sight of slabs of pure carbon, bottles of water, pieces of lime and ammonia solution and the rest of organic and inorganic matter lying around you.

There are no thoughts and feelings - you are nothing but an empty vessel that needs to be filled.

"Timaeus, bring the blanket" It's Albedo's voice, “Sucrose, check.. [First]’s temperature. I will observe them”

“[First]?”

“It’s a fitting name”

The memory ends. You wake up.

***

You wake up to Albedo sitting near your bed. It's not a rare occurrence with him frequently checking up on your health, but the memories of previous dreams make you almost jump when you see his silhouette again.

"Uhm, hello?" you still sound husky from sleep.

"Apologies for coming here, I heard your whimpers and decided to check if everything was alright". His face looks as impassive as ever, but there's a concerned tone in his voice. He must be extremely worried then.

"I..” you start but then trail off, unsure what to say. Is the revelation that you dreamt even true? Aside from the strange coincidence and sense of isolation that loomed over you, becoming a bit unbearable with each day, you had nothing to prove your nonsensical conclusion: you are not real.

“I saw a dream, of me lying among the lime and carbon and water” Albedo gives you an intense stare, eyes and expression completely unreadable: “it wasn’t just a dream, was it?”

A moment passes and then another and you feel even more stupid with each second to just come to that conclusion, not to mention saying it outloud. And then the most unexpected thing happens: Albedo nods.

“Yes, yes it happened to you” he suddenly sounds tired, as if he admitted a dark, dark secret, that it arguably is. A shock goes through you, as you start to gasp for air - it’s one thing to speculate and guess, it’s completely different to hear a confirmation.

You can’t exactly remember what happens next - you think you broke down right there and then, as alchemist awkwardly tried to comfort you. He was explaining how and why he created you - he thought that your creation would give him answers he was looking for, solve his internal conflict, and then he started to wonder how different artificial life is from the natural one and that’s why he decided to give you memories.

It was hard at first, he says, to push back the existing ones back and replace them with new. Make you believe that you were born too. Memories were his favourite thing to do, he had a theory you see, that people are majorly products of their environment, and he wanted to prove that with you. That’s why he decided to mold you into a person with traits he usually finds valuable.

In the end you found yourself nursing a hot tea mug with a few drops of calming concoction dissolved in it. Albedo is lingering around in his own disquieted fashion, as you rethink your whole life - can it even be called a life anymore?

You glance at the alchemist fretting around you, frowning, and unsure what to do, the warmth and happiness you felt upon seeing him replaced by disappointment and confusion. Albedo isn't the one who you thought him to be, Archons, you're not the one who you thought yourself to be!

Suddenly the way all others interacted you became crystal clear - they treated you like oddity because you were one. You remember Klee and how she always seemed to love calling you her "bestest special friend". No way they don't know of your origin. No way they will ever treat you like a person.

There's an ache when you think about Klee also turning away from you; She is a sunshine personified right now, spreading her kindness and enthusiasm without even trying, but who knows what will happen once she grows up, will she have a problem with her peers because of you, or she'll adopt the general public's opinion of you? The thought is almost enough to send you into a crying fit again. You want to run far away.

"I want to travel" you finally say, there's no way you can integrate into society when everyone knows what you are and will always see it before who you are. You want to run away and start anew somewhere far, so the rumors will never reach that place and no one will look at you with that wide eyed stare again. You say what you think about this whole situation.

"Please, don't" he says and you of course stop, legs no longer listening to you, "I understand you are distressed right now, but running away isn't the solution"

"But I will never be able to truly connect with anyone, they know it, of my birth, right? The whole city knows about it, right?"

"I know that you want to feel loved, I… We are the same - before your creation I felt the same loneliness, I couldn't bond with anyone save for Klee, but interacting with you was far more pleasant than expected. Relationships are needlessly tiring and I never understood why people focused on them so much, yet now, looking at you I can understand them. I love you, [First], you are perfect".

You still again, now stunted by his words and sudden love confession. It's all so sudden and strange and confusing and you are too tired and too shocked to deal with this, so you decide to distance yourself. "I can't love you in return"

"But you will"

"Why do you think that?"

"It's against your nature to oppose me in anything"

Note: Galatea is an ivory statue created by Pygmalion, who later fell in love with it. The head in reader's dream is decapitated Mimir, a figure in Norse mythology who is known for his knowledge and wisdom. His decapitated head was reciting secret knowledge and giving counsel to Odin.