#and now I'm afraid to even try digging for it since it's most likely from like 2016 >.<

[nocek]

Check out the BuckyNat in the women in marvel story from today. It reminds me of something your silly petvengers might have gotten up to.

ok I've just read it and that story is so precious >w< 100% of silliness I approve and love and want more of <3

thank you so so much for letting me know about it !!!!!

#buckynat #comic rec #text post #and damn it reminded me i once was drawing whole longer petvenger comic #of very complicated operation of getting cookies #that i never finished and forgot about until now :S #and now I'm afraid to even try digging for it since it's most likely from like 2016 >.< #damn #petvengers are old

[ladyylavenderrr]

Garak and Psychosis

Very self indulgent little post about instances of Garak displaying behaviors that read to me (or at least can be read) as a symptom of psychosis. I will almost certainly miss some, but I want to compile this together for myself. I completely see Garak as having some kind of psychotic disorder. Most of these examples will come from A Stitch In Time, but we have some from the show as well. Also keep in mind that many of these could be interpreted in a myriad of ways, not just as a psychotic symptom. I’m not claiming any of this is definitive proof or anything of the sort, and Garak’s past as a spy (a profession that by nature demands a lot of paranoia) certainly complicates all of this. That’s not to say this an either-or situation. He can be both psychotic and a former spy and in fact the effect both would have on the other would be quite interesting, as laid out in this post

Again, all of what I say can be interpreted in many different ways, but I just want to have it all written down in one place. Psychosis can manifest in very different ways for different people. Some people might be debilitated by their symptoms, struggling to function without assistance. Others might function just fine most of the time and only experience relatively mild symptoms, though the associated distress isn’t any less important.

Season 6, episode 5 “Favors The Bold”. Garak insists Julian examine him for a some kind of mind reading device put in his head by Starfleet Intelligence. Despite Julian telling him there’s nothing out of the ordinary in his head, Garak doesn’t believe him and insists he keep looking. Came off as a delusion to me, especially since he remains convinced despite evidence proving his delusion false.

Season 4, episode 21 “For the Cause”. Upon meeting Ziyal, Garak becomes convinced that she wants to hurt and kill him. I wouldn’t say her being Dukat’s daughter is enough evidence for the average person to be this worried. In fact, Quark even calls him out on his paranoia and we get this exchange.

GARAK: I was going to cancel. I've had visions of Ziyal presenting my head to her father as a birthday gift. 
QUARK: That's a little paranoid, wouldn't you say? 
GARAK: Paranoid is what they call people who imagine threats against their life. I have threats against my life.

To be fair, Kira warning him to stay away from Ziyal gets him to calm down a bit, or maybe not because he still seems quite apprehensive when he actually meets Ziyal, still afraid she might want to hurt him.

Now to A Stitch In Time.

Part 1, Chapter 7. As Garak helps Parmak dig people out of the rubble of a bombed Cardassia (highly stressful and traumatic situation), he seems to hallucinate a figure. You could read this as metaphorical, but he reacts to and tries to interact with the figure in the real world, which doesn’t come off as a metaphorical way of describing his despair to me.

“I have never lived with despair, Doctor, the way I live with it now. It's almost like a phantom companion that shadows me and casts doubt on whatever I do.

"Why save him?" it asks, as we remove a young boy from the rubble of a school. "You're only keeping him alive for a future of privation and chaos. Wouldn't it be more satisfying to join the burial unit?"

I want to scream at this phantom, to shut it up. Once I turned around suddenly and raised my hand to strike it. When I realized it wasn't there, it was too late. Everyone in the unit was looking at me; I'm sure I must have looked like a madman.”

After this, Parmak gives Garak some pills. He only calls them “relaxants” so it might be a sedative of some kind, but I’m not sure. Either way, Garak hallucinates again after swallowing the pills, panicking as he sees those Cardassian orphans from the episode “Cardassians”. I doubt the pills are hallucinogens, both because Parmak specifically gave them to Garak after witnessing him hallucinating and is seemingly trying to stop that, and because they speak about the hallucinations like an unintended side effect ("I'm afraid they don't react well with me," I explained. “I understand," he said.)

Certain drugs making psychotic symptoms worse isn’t uncommon.

Part 1, Chapter 6. As Garak and the rest of his group in Bamarren are forced to stand still in the heat for what might be hours as part of a training exercise, he begins to hallucinate multiple figures, including his parents (it’s interesting that one of the figures seems to be Palandine, even though neither we nor Garak have been introduced to her yet). If this were the only instance of Garak hallucinating in the book, I wouldn’t assume he has a psychotic disorder since this example has obvious an explanation outside of a mental health issue. People are known to experience hallucinations when suffering from heat stroke. However I’m putting this example here simply because it’s part of a larger pattern of Garak hallucinating multiple times throughout the book. It’s also interesting to note that this scene happens right before the scene of an adult Garak hallucinating that figure with Parmak.

Part 2, Chapter 18. Garak seems to hallucinate as he looks at the frieze. He sees the frieze move and the people painted on it move as well. He thinks some of the figures are he and Palandine but isn’t sure.

“The frieze now began to move in the upward direction. I was too amazed to ask if this was truly happening. People would disappear at the top while more would enter from below.

Certain faces were recognizable, but I didn't know why. Something was also rising within me, an energy moving up my spine to my head, and I began to feel dizzy. Two of the figures could have been Palandine and me, but I couldn't be sure. I was almost nauseous with the energy surging within me. The figures completed the cycle and disappeared at the top. The frieze stopped moving.”

This one can be interpreted in a more metaphorical way than some of the others, but like I said, it could also be another symptom of this potential psychosis.

I’m sure I’ve missed some examples, but you get my point.

#star trek #ds9 #deep space nine #elim garak #garashir #psychosis #schizophrenia #a stitch in time #asit #andrew robinson #meta #media analysis #schizospec #deep space 9

[kiana-kaslana-423]

Hello!! this post is a little outdated since I would like to change some things + incorrect things so please check out this person's post since they've been a huge help!!!!

Hello!!!

I'm here to give everything that I know about Vill v's personalities! It is quite hard to find stuff on her since there's barely no video essays on YouTube and Google sucks so after my digging let me present you with what I found!! This is all a formal base of my opinion of each personality and what I was able to find!!

But before we get on that let me explain how Vill v works! The body of Vill v works Like a spider internally obviously but I should just explain this first so there's no confusion!

Obviously it's plays out like a spider because of the infusion of a Honkai Spider Beast! Helix is the body of the spider while her other personalities are the legs. More personalities can be split off but that will slowly deteriorate her brain, we get it from this line!

Though she does say that's “my current limit” Which means maybe she's trying to find another way to make more or get better at it but that's honestly a story for another day-

But just to make it clear Helix was not able to partition her mind before she became a MANTIS and it only happened after, Anything before that she was pretending to be someone else!

Though now that I explained this let's get on to the personalities and Helix!

- Helix -

Helix is the original!

She is insecure of her own self and from what I found she started to hate herself at a very young age (( I've heard people say it's 5 but I don't know )) and wishes she could be someone better which comes in with Vill v and the other personalities.

Like I said she's really insecure of herself, she's basically a genius that lacks confidence and is afraid of her own genius. She's such a genius she was able to accomplish many tasks such as what all of the personalities can do.

- Conductor -

The Conductor was the first partition that Helix did and is the most similar to Helix sense she was Helix's first time partitioning so she's basically just like Helix but with more confidence!

The Conductor manages the other personalities and is basically in charge of everything else like petitioning, etc!

- The Great Magician -

The Great Magician is one of the most users of the body and is the most hyper out of all the other personalities! She is loud, outgoing and mischievous + with her love of stranger magic tricks!

She's most likely the hardest to deal within all the other personalities!

- The Expert -

The Expert is the second one that uses the body the most along with Magician, she's normally stone face and cold along with being straightforwards but she is smart and intelligent!

She's the one that makes all of the inventions but the others do like to participate and add their own little pop to it

- Pure Evil -

Pure Evil was originally Helix's confidence and pride that she hidden, but she slowly became a resentful person once The Conductor started to throw every negative emotion that Vill v felt onto her. Making her suffer through 50,000 years

She's now a very resentful person and wants payback for the suffer that she had to go through but she does have a soft spot for the others even if she doesn't show it.

- Flavorful -

Flavorful is really shy and reserved, she's not the best at interacting with people but she is really nice and sweet, and she's one of the best chefs that there is!

- Occultist -

Occultist is basically like Aponia, she talks slow and is very observant. She is wise and mysterious!

- Lecturer -

Lecturer died because of Aponia's discipline, since The Conductor didn't want that so she partitioned Lecturer so much that she couldn't basically come back

We don't really know if she died before the Elysia realm or not since the only line that we have that mentions it is here (?)

So we don't really know much about her since that's all we really see of her but from I know she is a genius and is like a teacher! Kind of like The Expert but more nice!

- Kevin Killer Mk5 -

Mk is barely shown like Lecturer so we don't know a lot about her, from what we know she's just really bad at interacting and just stays in headspace,, so my personal guess I'm just going to say she really shy?

But that's all we sadly know since a lot of the personalities don't get a lot of screen time, I got a lot of this information from Reddit and from a YouTube channel called Homu Labs! They've been a big help on finding more about her since her own Wiki barely does anything. If you want to tell me anything else I'm gladly open to hear!!!

#I couldn't wait for all the votes to get in since I really wanted to talk about the personalities hdhdhdh #honkai #honkai impact #honkai impact 3rd #hi3 #hi3 vill v #vill v #vill-v

[stydiaandthejeep]

The first time Carmy cooks for her, Sydney weeps a bit.

* a The Bear headcanon about showing love through food *

It's three months after the Bear opened, one late night while they were huddled up in Carmy's tiny ass kitchen, tangerines and pomegranate seeds spilled on the counters, a decimated basil plant lying next to three type of summer tortellini. The thought of ricotta, which she normally adores, makes her nauseous now and she thinks she is going mad - the restaurant was good, but she wanted great, she needed to elevate it to tremendous, and all her ideas were falling flat.

The two courses they already had were ones Carmy had come up with, and she felt disappointing, and tired, and her hands were stained purple from beetroot. She was slumped over the couch, head resting in her hands, spiraling from the lack of sleep and the doom thumping in her chest, that anxiety permanently tethering on the edge of her skin. There was a strange, gnawing sensation too, tying knots in her stomach.

She hadn't realised that the background sounds coming from the kitchen had halted, not even when the sound of his steps stopped in front of her. A warm hand touched her shoulder,gently, a spike of adrenaline jolting her back.

' Syd. What's up?'

His tone is not prying, but his blue eyes betray the worry in it. It's sweet, she thinks, that he cares enough to ask. She's still getting used to him caring about her, beyond the interest of the restaurant.

She answers with the first thing that comes to her, the sensation most immediate to her. ' I think I'm- hungry?'

As soon as she reluctantly names it, her stomach lets out a loud grumble, and she grows red with embarrassment. She hadn't eaten since breakfast, nothing but little tastes of whatever they were cooking, had skiped lunch with her dad - had barely drank water. Carmy smiles, soft and tired too, bags heavy under his eyes.

' Ah. I got you, chef.'

Sydney doesn't get the chance to protest before he walks back into the kitchen and starts moving again, relaxed and natural and so fucking domestic. She can't bear to watch it for too long, the thought of him cooking for her, not to test a recipe or simply making family - but just because she was hungry, it feels like a hand reaching into her chest and wringing it dry. It feels too close to what she knew love to be.

Instead she closed her eyes, drifting away with the familiar sounds of him cooking, trying to clear her head of citrus pasta, of failures and what ifs. She was awakened by Carmy softly calling her name, nudging her hand with the end of a fork, the other hand holding a plate for her to take. The smell makes her mouth water, and her face immediately breaks into a wide, sleepy grin when she sees a perfectly cooked omlette, potato chips crumbled over the top of it. Sydney pulled her legs under her to let him sit next to her on the couch, and then immediately dug the fork into it, letting a satisfied sound and closing her eyes at the first taste. Carmy watched her with eager eyes that she avoided.

'Good?'

She nods, keeping her eyes down and fixed on the plate, too afraid that he'd see that tears had pooled into them now. No one had cooked for her before, no one that wasn't her dad or her grandma. Not like this - not when she needed it most, not in such an intimate way, like they had put their whole being into it. She feels ridiculous for crying at an omlette. She wants to ask him what it all means. When she looks up, his eyes shift to worry, a hand coming to rest naturally on hers.

' Hey, hey. What's wrong? Did I mess up or-?'

Sydney shakes her head, digging her fork into the food and then taking another bite, cheeks now wet with spilling tears.

' No, this is fucking fire, I just. No one's ever cooked for me like '

She means to say not like this, not like you, but she swallows that too, holds his gaze while his hand gently squeezes her forearm. He nods, eyes full of affection, always getting her without words being needed, always in sync with her.

'Thanks, Carm.'

He clears his throat, fumbles when he speaks out ' It was the best part of my day. Cooking for you, I mean.'

His shy smile hits her in the middle of her chest, so she focuses on clearing her plate, and tries not to wonder what it all means. The warmth of his hand on hers, the food that tasted like affection. The longing blue eyes. Carmy wordlessly offers to take her plate, goes to get up before stopping himself.

'You need to eat too, Syd. Next time you're hungry, just tell me. I'll take care of you.'

She nods,biting her lip, and he dissapears into the kitchen, before he can see her head spinning, before she can say that she'd do the same for him, always, before she can grab him and make him spell it out. In the quiet of the night, the sound rings around her head over and over. I'll take care of you.

#sydcarmy #carmy x sydney #the bear #carmy berzatto #sydney adamu #chefs kiss

[wreckingtickles]

Hellloooo! I'm so glad I found your blog! If you have time, please consider writing drabble/shortfic/"develop scenario into a treatment, breaking down the various story beats" just like you did recently... where shoto todoroki is tickling natsuo? hehehe... I'm definitely okay with non consensual/intense tickles Thank you so much in advance & please no foot tickles hehe... I hope you have a wonderful day & I genuinely love your content! <3

Sure, here's a quick one.

It started as just another day of big bro Natsu putting the fear of god into Todoroki, which he calls "brotherly bonding". He voices his delight that Todoroki doesn't even try to fight back when Natsuo tickles him, he just tries to escape, fails, and takes it.

Todoroki is actually surprised that he's allowed to fight back. Natsuo jokes that it's actually his big brother prerogative to wreck him whenever he feels like it.

Little does he know that Todoroki is an extremely vindictive, methodical ler once he gets permission; the only ones who know are probably Deku, Kiri, and possibly Kami.

Todoroki gives it a couple of days. Maybe even weeks. He doesn't want Natsuo to suspect anything, and he doesn't want anyone in the house who can stop him.

The two of them play some dumb sport Natsuo loves. Then, when he plops down on a bench to have a drink, Todoroki makes his move.

He creates an ice column that encases Natsuo's legs and arms, so now he's not going anywhere. Then, he drags a chair behind Natsuo, who can't get his ass off the bench and can't see Todoroki.

Natsuo realizes what's going on and begins bargaining, but Todoroki has entered his "scary literal unflinching" mindset and there's just no way to stop him.

Todoroki starts at Natsuo's sides, since they're one of the most ticklish spots on Todoroki, and he's not playing around, his hands are already under Natsuo's shirt, squeezing and kneading his flanks.

Natsuo isn't fooling anyone, it's immediately obvious he's ticklish, but he's not laughing hard enough for Todoroki, so he begins scribbling at Natsuo's stomach, and his brother goes from giggling to laughing in 5 seconds flat (horny author's note: as flat as Natsuo's stomach).

Todoroki is just relentless: he isn't just turning the tables on his brother, he's taking revenge for every single time Natsuo has subjected him to big bro tickles all at the same time.

Mid-laughter, Natsuo complains that it's unfair that he can't fight back, so Todoroki... coats his fingers in ice, which doesn't hurt Natsuo due to his Quirk, but they glide even more easily so Natsuo's laughter rises an octave, especially when Todoroki dives in his bellybutton as well.

Natsuo apologizes, it tickles a lot and also it's kind of humiliating, which is Todoroki's cue to change spots and go after his ribs and pits next, which aren't any less sensitive.

Natsuo has never seen that side of his brother, on the one hand it's kind of sweet that he is learning to accept and give physical contact, on the other he is absolutely terrifying and ruthless!! Like he doesn't quite understand what the social norms around it are, so he has no qualms about tickling his brother to tears.

And when he finds that spot at either sid eof Natsuo's chest and digs in there, that is exactly what happens. Except tears won't stop Todoroki, his brother is strong, he can take so much more (eager lee Kirishima has definitely skewed his perception there).

When Todoroki finally frees Natsuo, his brother just crumples to the ground in a pool of sweat despite the ice. He's worked him over good.

A month or so later, Todoroki notices that Natsuo hasn't really tickled him since and confronts him about it. Natsuo is too embarrassed to say that he's afraid of Todoroki's payback, but Todo guesses as much and tells him he can still do it, and he apologizes if he went overboard. Natsuo tells him not to restrain him again, Todo promises, and Natsuo pounces, keen on reestablishing his role as the big brother!

#mha tickle #bnha tickle #tickle content #lee!natsuo #ticklish!natsuo

[themuseandantarctica]

* 𝒂 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒏

sentence starters from christopher isherwood’s novel a single man. change however necessary.

tw: death, drugs, age gaps (between adults, no pedo.philia), some n.sfw text

i'm afraid of being rushed.

why? why? is it some cosmic entity, some arch-tyrant who tries to blind us to his very existence by setting us against our natural allies, the fellow victims of his tyranny?

such questions are hard to take seriously. they seem so academic.

intolerable old [name], always absolutely in the right, and crazy.

oh well, i expect it'll last our time.

the question "is this playacting or does he really hate us?" never occurs to them.

put them back, now! back! put them back!

i never hear the noise children make -- just as long as it's a happy noise.

do they know that they are afraid? no. but they are very afraid.

among many other kinds of monster, they are afraid of little me.

even when they are geniuses in spite of it, their masterpieces are invariably warped.

[name] wasn't a substitute for anything. and there is no substitute for [name], if you'll forgive my saying so, anywhere.

would you possibly be free tonight?

poor man, living there all alone. he has a kind face.

idiots -- fooled them again!

what is he up to?

these people are not amusing. they should never be dealt with amusingly. they understand only one language: brute force.

but does [name] want to be obeyed? doesn't he prefer to be defied so he can go on killing and killing -- since all these people are just vermin and the more of them that die the better?

no time to worry about that now.

it is a slander to say that they are identical.

the only ism i believe in is abstract expressionism.

is this some supersubtlety?

let's see if that old robot'll know the difference.

will any of them make it? oh, sure. one, at least. two or three at most.

you're always paying.

[name] wanted me to ask you, sir -- we were wondering if you could manage to get out to us again before too long?

won't this keep happening to him all through his life? won't he keep getting himself involved in the wrong kind of game, the kind of game he was never born to play, against an opponent who is quick and clever and merciless?

sorry, sir -- i lost you for a minute there.

they look as if they were ready at any minute to switch from studying to ditchdigging or gang fighting.

she has the look of a divorcee.

how can i impress, flatter or otherwise con this cantankerous old thing into giving me a good grade?

i must say, i don't see how anyone can pretend to be interested in a novel when he doesn't even stop to ask himself what its title means.

it's not much fun being beautiful for ever and ever, when you can't even wake up and look at yourself in a mirror.

well, what does [name] want them to say it's about? they'll say it's about anything he likes, anything at all.

wow! i don't dig that jazz.

what do we need eternity for, anyway?

the stupidest text in the bible is, 'they hated me without a cause.'

a minority is only thought of as a minority when it constitutes some kind of threat to the majority, real or imagined.

it's better if we admit to disliking and hating them than if we try to smear our feelings over with pseudo-liberal sentimentality.

why, you wouldn't recognize love if you met it! you'd suspect love!

well, after all, what else can you expect?

is this sheer idiocy or slyness?

i keep remembering that beautiful accent. it's like music.

i have to go down to the book shop.

you don't have any of those capsules left now, do you?

i bet, even if you had seen god, you wouldn't tell us.

someone has to ask you a question before you can answer it. but it's so seldom you find anyone who'll ask the right questions. most people aren't that much interested…

a place where the police are angels has to be an insane asylum.

the not-understanding, the readiness to remain at cross-purposes, is in itself a kind of intimacy.

isn't it some tiny satisfaction to be of use, instead of helping to turn out useless consumer goods?

just the same, it is a deadly bore and, to be frank, a wee bit distasteful.

want to go? we might ask him some awkward questions.

now we have with us a far more terrible fear, the fear of survival.

[name] stood me up. talk to me.

they're being cheated out of their childhood. they're being turned into junior consumers!

how can you talk such incredible nonsense?

that fills them with fury and loathing because they can never understand it.

essentially we're creatures of spirit. our life is all in the mind.

the nurses at the reception desk are pleasant, too. they don't fuss you with a lot of questions.

i am woman. i am bitch-mother nature. the church and the law and the state exist to support me.

i was screaming. they heard me clear down the hall.

it seems as if they can't bear to leave anything the way it used to be.

where's that fucking nurse?

if you'll just step outside for a moment. this won't take any time at all.

did she mean goodbye?

it will be a good christmas, the merchants predict.

i am alive, i am alive!

you old ass, who are you trying to seduce?

there is always an atmosphere of leisureliness in this place.

these things just kill me. man!

nobody is bitchy here, or ill-tempered, or inquisitive.

even up here, they are building dozens of new houses. this area is getting suburban.

the supermarket is still open; it won't close till midnight.

who says i have to be brave? who depends on me now? who cares?

look -- is it too late to change my mind? about tonight?

who can it be at this hour?

they might notice something queer about me, and you'd feel ashamed.

hey -- you can't die here! ain't this heaven?

the author gets slightly vague, so i've had to improvise a bit. i mean, he doesn't come right out and say so, but i have a suspicion that one's supposed to make it with human flesh. actually, i've used leftovers from a joint…

i've already made two new year's resolutions -- only they're effective immediately. the first is, i'm going to admit i loathe bourbon.

you know, i sometimes think, about you, whenever you do something really sweet, you're ashamed of it afterwards!

how many times, when [name] and i came to visit you -- sulking, avoiding each other's eyes, talking to each other only through you -- did you somehow bring us together again by the sheer power of your unawareness that anything was wrong?

he has made up his mind, really and truly. he wants a complete break.

i know you think he hasn't behaved well to me, [name]. i don't blame you for thinking that.

i betrayed you, [name]; i betrayed our life together.

i keep wondering just when it began to go wrong.

so here we are, just the two of us. just you and me.

i mean, until i've done that, i won't feel everything's really over. you have to do something to convince yourself.

i never wanted to live alone, [name].

how can you pretend you don't love it? and you miss it -- you wish you were back there -- you know you do.

i'm not sure how i should like that part of it.

whatever you say about it, darling, you always make it sound so marvelously romantic.

what's the harm? it's fun. it adds a new dimension to being drunk.

[name] not enjoying himself? he was having the ball of his life!

we were always making plans like that. we hardly ever told other people about them, even you. maybe that was because we knew in our hearts they were crazy.

no, [name], cross my heart, i am honestly not being bitchy!

feeling guilty's no reason for staying or going. the point is, do you want to go?

i think i shall go back, [name]. i dread it -- but i'm beginning to think i really shall.

i had to tell her at once, right after it happened. otherwise, i'd have been so afraid she'd find out for herself, in some uncanny way, and that would have been too shaming.

the past is just something that's over.

i can't stand anymore indecision. i've got to burn my boats, this time.

i should hate so to leave you, [name].

we could get drunk and earn money at the same time.

do women ever stop trying?

you are drunk. oh, you stupid old thing, how dare you get so drunk?

oh, the bloody battles and the sidewalk vomitings!

seashells are still less easy to find here than discarded rubbers.

it was nothing. only a poem.

but imagine your happening to pick on this particular bar!

do you really think i'd be such an idiot as to try to buy drinks for a minor?

you could invite him to stay the night at your place. tell him you'll drive him back in the morning.

you can talk about anything and change the subject as often as you like.

that's the trouble. i don't know what is important and what isn't.

the past doesn't really matter to most kids my age. when we talk like it does, we're just being polite.

maybe i will. maybe i'll get mad at you.

if you and i are no different, what do we have to give each other? how can we ever be friends?

whatever made me tell you all that? am i drunk or something?

i, personally, have gotten steadily sillier and sillier and sillier.

well, i'm not bluffing -- so what are we waiting for? you weren't bluffing, were you?

that's enough for now!

they ought not to let you out on your own, ever. you're liable to get into real trouble.

don't be an idiot. you'd get pneumonia.

you don't even have a cat or a dog or anything?

i believe you've discovered the secret of the perfect life!

getting married? no. that's out.

i don't believe you're that much interested whether i marry [name] or not. i think you want to ask me something different.

so now she's called the whole thing off?

you aren't exactly sober, if you don't mind my saying so.

and now get me another drink.

i suppose you've decided i'm a dirty old man?

don't you have a glimmering of how i must feel -- longing to speak?

the point is -- here am i and here are you -- and for once, there' s no one to disturb us.

it's the enormous tragedy of everything nowadays: flirtation. flirtation instead of fucking, if you'll pardon my coarseness.

thought maybe i'd better split, after all.

that was great, this evening. let's do it again, shall we? or don't you believe in repeating things?

quick -- we need a substitute!

yes, i am crazy. that is my secret; my strength. and i'm about to get much crazier.

what if [name] has been scared off? what if he doesn't come back?

this is where he found [name]. he believes he will find another [name] here. he doesn't know it, but he has started looking already.

but is all of [name] altogether present here?

how can such a variety of creatures coexist at all?

both will have to be carted away and disposed of, before too long.

#rp meme #rp starters #sentence meme #sentence starters #prompts #rp prompts #writing prompts

[takearisk-xo]

tenth anniversary

written for @hinnyfest prompt #2: i did something bad *content warning* death of a small rodent

The fire crackled merrily in the grate while snow floated past the front windows in gentle spirals. Ginny lounged on the sofa, basking in silence for the first time in a week. Christmas always had the tendency to come and go in a whirlwind, each year that much more chaotic as the girls got older, and this year had been no different. 

A whole host of new toys, books, sweets, and jumpers lay scattered throughout the cottage. She’d given up trying to tidy as it seemed every time she’d begun to pick up a room, someone, or several someones, would go behind her and destroy it all over again.

As an anniversary gift, her mum had blessedly offered to take the girls for the night. However, she’d said it with such an expectant expression that there was only one possible ulterior motive. In response, Ginny had rolled her eyes so violently they almost stuck in the top of her head; just because they had one night to themselves didn’t mean they would all the sudden try for a third.

Not a chance. They were too fucking tired. 

An echoing thud, followed by a loud swear, resounded through the ceiling and Ginny peered upwards curiously. Harry had disappeared a half an hour ago, but she hadn’t really thought anything of it. Until now. 

After a few quiet moments, she heard more swearing, then frantic footsteps in the upstairs hall.

Harry thundered down the stairs, rattling the whole house and whipping around the corner into the sitting room. 

His face was flushed and his expression panicked as he blurted, “I did something bad.”

Ginny sighed and sat up, her blissful reprieve from chaos apparently over.

“Reparo bad,” she yawned. “Or vanish the evidence bad?”

Harry stared at her with wide eyes. “Shovel bad.”

“What?”

She stood in a rush, following after Harry as he dashed back up the stairs. Ginny took them two at a time, her dozy brain returning to alert with each step. He led her halfway down the hall and then turned to stand in their daughters’ bedroom doorway. 

Peering around him, Ginny took in the riot of dress up costumes, toy broomsticks, and doll houses, until her gaze landed on a furry purple lump in the middle of the room. 

“Bridget!” she gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth. 

“I didn’t mean to!” Harry cried, his face positively miserable. 

Ginny took a few steps into the bedroom and crouched down next to the little pygmy puff. “You killed her!”

He winced. “Maybe she isn’t dead?”

“She’s squashed flat!”

“It was an accident!”

“Did you step on her?”

“No,” Harry scrubbed a hand down his face. “I fell on her.”

Ginny remembered the loud thud and bit back a laugh. “What were you doing?”

“I-” he faltered, embarrassment clouding his features. 

Eyes widening in clarity, her mouth dropped open. “You were wearing those dream specs they got from Percy, weren’t you!?”

“No!” Harry insisted, then he let out a resigned huff. “Alright, fine. I was, but it’s not my fault they’re brilliant-”

“Unbelievable.” Ginny scooped up the tiny corpse and grimaced. It was still warm. She held her hands out but Harry took a half step back. 

“Er-” He stammered. “You’ve got it handled.”

“Harry Potter, you take this dead pygmy puff this instant!”

“How about this,” he took another step backwards, fully into the hallway. “You dispose of the body, and I’ll go to Diagon and pick out another one?”

“How about you go bury it since you killed it!” Ginny shrieked. “And I’ll go to Diagon and pick out another one!”

Harry was shaking his head before she even finished speaking. “Seems like a lose-lose.”

“If you don’t take it right now,” she said in her most threatening voice. “I’ll tell Lily.”

His eyes sharpened. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“You want to try me?”

He stared at her for the space of three seconds, sizing her up. “How about I dig the hole, then we both go to Diagon?”

“That still leaves me holding a dead pygmy puff!”

“That’s the cost of being my accomplice, I'm afraid.”

Ginny groaned impatiently. “Fine! Just hurry! I can feel it’s little broken bones-”

Harry gagged.

.

.

.

EPILOGUE

Bridget 2.0 lived a long, full life of snickersnacks and cuddles. And Lily Luna never questioned why her royal purple pygmy puff all the sudden turned periwinkle. 

#hinnyfest #hinny #hinny ficlet #tpfy epilogue? #lets just say all my hinnyfest ficlets are tpfy epilogues #the path from you #my fic

[vesperlionheart]

Hello｡◕‿◕｡

I have had an idea in my head for a long time. But it is large, so I wanted to ask a few things.

How do you juggle all the characters? Do you write the setting first, and then create a backstory for each character? What is the most convenient way to prescribe all this? And how not to be afraid that no one needs my idea, and I'm wasting my time on unnecessary things? If my goal is to create my own fanfic and get feedback.

I like the idea that my story will end and people will still be writing reviews 5 years from now. How do you feel when you receive feedback? When did you decide it was time to write your first story and see it through?

large world building projects are so much fun, it always feels like snuggling into a comfort blanket or sweater you can really immerse yourself in, at least for me it does.

Juggling a lot of characters can be a struggle since I'm personally a world driven type of author as opposed to the character driven and plot driven types of authors you might run across. What I mean by that is for me the world usually appears first in my mind and I have to build it out before I know exactly who lives in it or what's happening. I think the most convenient way to prescribe all the steps you want to take starts with knowing who you are as a writer and what your personal style is cause we're all made a little different. I got to know myself better as a write after reading The Curiosities, a collection of short stories by three different authors who all are a different type or have a different approach to writing. (I loved their notes to each other reviewing their stories and its a great read.) Knowing what works for you is what's most vital, and a lot of trial and error shouldn't be feared in order to better understand yourself. You'll never waste time trying to grow and improve yourself, even if you don't achieve the fame or money in the end.

For me, when I come up with a story idea, I am usually provoked by some other media I see and feel the urge to make something more suited to my tastes. I read about vampires or werewolves and wanna do my own spin on an urban high school for monsters, I get a fraction of information about some obscure mobile video game and want to run with it in a new direction that gives it lore and meaning beyond the pretty visuals. What do you enjoy reading or playing or watching? Chances are those are topics you might enjoy creating with. For me writing is like 'play' and I enjoy playing with some things more than others as my tastes change and mature with time. On the more technical side of things, in order to build a functioning story I try to make sure I have a problem in my story and I try to ensure my protagonists are characters with needs or desires that push them along through the narrative. These can change depending on the setting they're in.

When I first started writing I was like 12/13 and I just wanted to write for the fun of it and didn't know what I was doing when I posted my first fic online. I appreciated the validation of others who read my work and commented/reviewed, and I think later on that motivated me to switch up my style and try new things for the thrill of it. (No regrets, 10/10 would do again.) You asked about "how not to be afraid that no one needs my idea, and I'm wasting my time on unnecessary things?" Believe me when I say people need stories. I'm not sure about a lot of things in life but I know stories have existed as long as people have lived and there's a reason for that. We need stories as a species. Maybe you do create a story that gets 0 comments or only a few likes and clicks. It happens to most of us when we start out. We think we're making crap and never realize our fields need that fertilizer for a better harvest in the future. You'll make some bad poems and stories and mess up plays or scripts in your life and that's good as long as you don't let it stop you. Keep trying and figure out what works for you. Keep digging until you strike gold. Your brain and your soul deserve the nourishment creating gives them. Make art any way you want and don't look back.

It's fucking amazing to know someone loved what I wrote, even 5-10+ years later. It's humbling and haunting at the same time. I'll never stop being in awe of how great it is to know someone, somewhere in the world of endless possibilities, found some joy in my story. I'm forever in awe of how cool that is. But the older I get the more I realize this writing thing I do, this expression of creativity I gravitate towards, is a gift unto me for my own sake. I need to create stories. I want to live a little in these dream worlds of mine before the daylight burns it all way and makes me go back to work. Writing is a means of self preservation at this point, even though it's a lot of hard work I still mess up on. I find so much joy in the ideas I try to flesh out, so I hope you can discover for yourself the unique joy of creating too. Don't let fear hold you back. Write your story.

#I think I rambled a lot but hopefully there's something good there #asks #writing

[licorishh]

So.

I just finished Act V of the Fontaine archon quest (aka the last one).

I am. Frankly astounded.

Like.

WOW. I am. Wow. The writing. Just. Oh my. Oh my word.

Huge frickin' massive biiiig fat 4.2 spoilers under the cut~

FIRST OF ALL, HOW DARE THEY MAKE ME GO FROM DESPISING FURINA TO ACTUALLY LOVING HER??? I thought she was a bratty little punk up until now but oh my gosh she's actually one of the most fascinatingly deep and dynamic and selfless characters in the whole game what???? HOW DARE THEY??? I was not going to pull for her at all and was gonna save for Ayato but bRUH??? WHAT??? (I also think Neuvillette should go down in history as like one of the most well-written and compelling fictional characters to ever exist, but that's just me, pfft.)

ALSO. THAT LAST CUTSCENE. WITH NEUVILLETTE MAKING THE FINAL VERDICT. I CRIED. THAT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL, DUDE. JUST. AAUGUGHG. The whole time they did the shtick with the Traveler watching Furina's side and Neuvillette talking to Focalors. Just. Ohhhm y gosh. The feELS, SIR. ILLEGAL.

And I already apologized a few days ago for the person I would become if Neuvillette and Navia interacted more and thEN LOOK WHAT THEY DID. LOOK WHAT THEY FREAKING DID TO ME. SHE FELL. HE FRICKIN CAUGHT HER. HE WAS THE ONE IN HER DREAM TRYING TO GET HER TO SAFETY. CAN YOU HEAR ME SCREAMING. THERE WAS MORE THAN THAT BUT I'M TOO SPASTIC AND INARTICULATE TO TALK ABOUT IT ALL RIGHT NOW. JUST. HOW'D THEY MAKE ME EVEN MORE INSANE ABOUT THEM THAN I ALREADY WAS PLEASE WHAT

Kinda sad Wriothesley was barely there, but it was understandable considering he pretty much had the spotlight during the last few quest chains and since he was chilling out in the Fortress the whole time. It made sense. Nice to have Clorinde show up more, though :D

I am so insanely glad that I didn't get anything spoiled for this because blindly reacting to it all was just. So frickin insane. I am just astounded and so so impressed. Literally this game is only getting wildly better every second the story gets more added to it. Like I originally thought it couldn't get better than Liyue, and then frickin Sumeru happened, and then nOW FRICKIN FONTAINE HJAPPENED JUST. UGH. PLEASE. WHAT. HOW. DID THEY. DO THAT. SO WELL. SIR THE WRITING AND THE GENIUS AND THE AAAAGHH

I am amazed by how much character development there was in Fontaine. For the most part, the majority of the characters in Genshin Impact are somewhat one-dimensional (which is fine, because they're still cool), and they tend to lack significant depth. That combined with the fact that the other regions' quests have been pretty tame and really the most major moral dilemmas they've tackled were things like Nahida's predicament regarding how the people viewed her in comparison to Rukkhadevata means that a lot of the time, it's the worldbuilding that really stands out. While Fontaine's worldbuilding was also excellent, they really turned everything on its head by making the characters (specifically Furina, Neuvillette, and Navia) deeply compelling, with all kinds of internal struggles and issues that the game doesn't usually go into. I could give you a whole literary analysis on why Fontaine has arguably some of the best-written characters in the game, but I'll spare you, lol. I also love that they weren't afraid to really dig in and give Fontaine some serious issues and tragedies (Navia's father's death and how the guilt of being the one to issue the verdict weighed heavily on Neuvillette, the prospect of an entire nation being killed because of one mistake the archon made, characters actually dying for once, the issue with the Melusines being seen as outcast and being horribly mistreated, Neuvillette's feelings of being an outsider and unwelcome everywhere he goes, just, MAN).

Can you tell I enjoyed the Fontaine arc or

#genshin impact #4.2 spoilers #fontaine #genshin impact fontaine #fontaine spoilers #i am normal. so so so normal (<- a lie) #anyway time to draw fanart :DDD #...once i finish the many hsr pieces floating around my head pfft

[turtlenovela]

The Blue Pragraphs - 49 Kids and NOT Counting

Welcome to the Blue Paragraphs! These are parts I cut from my fanfic's final draft, since I felt they were slowing down the story's flow in the long run. They always contain additional information that may or may NOT appear in the story again

If you'd like to have a glass of sunshine, enjoy banter, digs at TLC shows and want to spent a little more time with the whole Hamato clan and Barry at Todd’s place, this is for you

Chapter 9 ½ - 49 Kids And NOT Counting!

"Here," Todd said, serving the Hamato clan his famous lemonade, "after a glass of sunshine," the world will look a little brighter."

"Blasphemy!" Draxon shouted, hitting the tabletop with his fist that the lemonade glasses jumped. "This kretin defiles my creation with inferior-science-based mass production!"

"Barry, whatcha talkin' about?" April asked.

"The turtles," he explained, pointing at them, "they are a state of the art masterpiece, maybe even my magnum opus! And this disgusting individual just steals their unique DNA and copies them in the most profane way possible."

April made a sour face at this utter lack of empathy for her surrogate brothers. "Getting copied and mass produced is something every brand should get used to," she said, callously smiling."

Also it's outrageous," Splinter complained, "that this dweep dares to break our family tradition. "Yes, I might have stuck to these traditions quite loosely, but my grandchildren being about to be taught kung fu instead of ninjitsu? Unthinkable!"

"This is the only thing that worries you?" April hissed, her eye twitching. 

"I think," Todd said, "these kids should decide themselves what kind of martial art they want to learn. Then he patted Draxum on the back. "Well, not everybody can perform great alchemy. So they had to settle for cloning. I'm sorry your work got copied. But now the precious little beans are there and need our love and care."

Thanks to Mickey, Todd was still blissfully unaware of the true crime background of this whole affair. Just like Casey Jr., who also sat at the table at Todd’s puppy rescue station.

Raph sighed: "Now we'd need someone like you, Todd, but who's as great at kid rescue as you are at puppy rescue."

"Oh," Todd stated, "you have a master architect among you."

"That’s not the problem," Donatello said, trying to repress a flattered smile. "Sure, I can build new hideouts any time. But what we need is funding to fully and constantly care for our kids."

"Oh yes," Todd agreed, "funding is always a problem."

Raph cleared his throat. "Talking about funding," he said and eyed his second oldest brother suspiciously: "Raph might not be the brightest candle on the cake, but you can’t even make me believe  that you build all your shiny tech from scratch. You must have your own way of funding - probably one neither pops nor I would approve of." 

Don tried to look as hapless and innocent as possible. 

"I always suspected that, but was afraid of asking," Leo remarked, frightened. 

"Well, uh- I recycle a lot and due to the mystic tech powers I developed, I additionally could cut down on costs-," Tello stuttered sheepishly. 

"Purple", his father began in a benign tone, "I won’t judge you, when you tell us how you earn money."

"Dad, he doesn't fall for that anymore," Leo remarked dully.

Dee's expression turned from anxious to annoyed and he informed his fam: "Let me tell you this: I can either afford funding for my inventions OR provide for our kids. And I don't think such sacrifice would be in your interest."

Mickey changed the topic. "Why don't we sign a contract with TLC?" He suggested.

"Very funny," Leo said. 

"No, for real!" Mike stated. "I mean, think about it! Sure, they exploit people. But they helped these huge weirdo families to make a living, pay for surgeries and stuff. Also they loooooooove teenage parents, fundamentalists and unhealthy family structures in general. And all of this is yesterday's snow compared to reichsburgers, mutants, yokai -"

"It's official now," Lee interrupted him, "Miguel has lost his marbles."

"Aw man!" Mickey moaned. "Maybe such a program would help people to see more in us than just monsters."

"Yeah, completely broken freaks for instance," April remarked. 

Leon sighed, looking at Casey, who just raised his eyebrows. "Currently," he began, "I only see one way to start our own fund."

"Not another one of your fishy and highly dangerous getting-rich-fast schemes!" Splinter protested. 

"Dad, these were getting famous fast schemes," his son corrected him. "Over the years April applied for so many jobs, I stopped counting. And Casey and his mom work as camp counselors. Sooo the most obvious solution for us is to get jobs."

This speech caused a little bedlam: Mickey stuffed a thermometer in Leo's mouth. Raph complained: "But we already have a job: to keep New York's criminals at bay!"

"Do you even know the horrors of teenage work places?!" Donnie cried and then whispered: "Customers - you have to talk to them and smile!!" He ended his sentence yelling in panic.

"You're aware that even if all four of you start to work hard," April pointed out, "you'll be far from providing for 49 kids. "We have to start somewhere," Leo replied. "We can't sit around and wait for a benevolent sponsor."

"Okay," April said, "who are you and what have you done to Leo?"

Only Casey proudly smiled at his former sensei. 

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt fanfic #todd capybara #baron draxum #rise splinter

[darkkitty1208]

Of Magic and Love

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Before we start, I just want to give a *huge* thank you to the wonderful, lovely, and talented @artylu, who made an amazing illustration of Stephen in this AU.

~

Chapter 4: There Was No Other Way

The following morning proceeded similarly to the last. Chattering outside his chamber, hot bath, same robes and ridiculous belts, and then a walk to the throne room. Stephen loathed every second of it. 

Ever since yesterday, a lingering headache had made itself present on Stephen’s head, not disappearing no matter how many times he tried to massage it away. A heavy feeling of dread had also decided to settle in his throat, growing into some sort of lump that made it hard for him to gulp down. The very thought of meeting those people again made him sick to the stomach, and he sighed, trying to get his jumble of anxiety in control. 

As he was walking down the hallways, the double doors of the throne room's entrance just out of reach, a swipe of green entered his sight, and it took him a moment to realise it was Prince Mordo. 

"Your royal highness," Mordo bowed, which Stephen acknowledged with a nod. 

Great, what now?

Stephen tried not to show his irritation at the sudden appearance of the man, but he couldn’t help but narrow his eyes in suspicion. What does he want?

As the man straightened up, a smile, one that felt different than yesterday's, appeared on his lips. Stephen raised his brow at that, then saw the man grab something from inside his pocket. Mordo fumbled for a moment, digging and searching for something that took long enough to make Stephen feel tempted to just walk away and ignore the man, before he revealed the item, holding it up before Stephen’s eyes. 

And the sight made Stephen nearly choke. 

It was a silk veil, his silk veil, from the night at the lake with Tony. Stephen stared, wide-eyed, heart beating louder in his chest as his mind swirled in panic. 

Had he left it behind? Had the man seen him with Anthony? Does he know about their relationship? 

A thousand thoughts piled in his mind, each one adding to his anxiety and making his panic rise. He could hear his own heartbeat thrumming in his ears, his breathing picking up even as he tried to calm himself down. But through the piles of thoughts currently running in his head, one in particular stood out the most. 

It was all his fault. He shouldn't have taken his veil off in the first place. He was too reckless. 

But none of it mattered then, not anymore anyway. 

As Mordo lowered his hands, he said, "Yes, I saw it all."

He let Stephen take his veil back. 

"I should say I'm surprised, I wouldn't have thought the… grand and respectable prince of Kamar Taj would fall for… a lowly peasant." Stephen nudged the cloak to stop it from straddling the man and causing a scene, even if he wanted to punch him straight on the face. 

"Say, what would the Sorceress Supreme think of this?" He asked, and Stephen was really beginning to consider that punch. He settled for balling his hands into fists instead, giving him a glare. The man smirked at his response. 

"But well, of course, if… today ended well," he shrugged, or looked like it, "I wouldn't be doing such a thing." Stephen's jaw clicked, his fists tightening in anger. 

"The choice is all yours, Prince Strange." And then he walked away. 

The implications of his words made Stephen nearly gag in disgust. He shouldn't be afraid, shouldn't fall for such a thing, but the very thought of all the discrimination Anthony would receive when their relationship was revealed to the Ancient One, and then, predictably, to the public, wasn't a thought he could bear. He couldn't possibly be selfish enough to risk that just to preserve his sense of dignity. 

What choice did he have? 

As he went to the throne room, gulping, he scanned towards the crowd, palms sweating, taking deep breaths. 

I'm doing this to protect you, Anthony, was the last thought he had before he announced that he had made his decision to take Mordo as his companion to everyone present in the room. The crowd looked at each other in confusion, not expecting the prince to already have a choice in mind. Mordo, though, stood proud and tall amongst the people around him, and Stephen felt that urge to punch him come right back at full force. The cloak, sensing his irritation, tried to comfort him by tightening one of its lapels over his wrist. 

Looking to the side, he realised The Ancient One was giving him a look. The look. The same look from their conversation that night, one that made him shiver down to the bone, one he still couldn't decipher nor understand, one that intimidated him to the point where he had to take a moment to breathe. Instead, he paid it no mind, and swept his eyes back to meet Mordo's. 

As the crowd left, earlier this time, – much to their annoyance, – muttering their complaints as they left the gate of the palace, the three of them were left in the room.

A moment passed as they took minute-glances at each other. 

"Prince Mordo," the Ancient One said, looking at the man, "you've… chosen well, my prince." She said to Stephen. 

"It is an honour, my royal highness. I am grateful you have seen the potential in me to help you lead this kingdom," Mordo said, feigning gratitude, "together." 

Stephen didn't reply. 

"When do you plan to have the wedding, then?" The Ancient One asked, still eyeing Stephen.  

Mordo looked him in the eye, and Stephen wanted to slap away that look on his face. "The choice of our marriage will be all in your hands, my prince." 

Stephen's lip twitched in disgust, but he scowled his face back and tried to look unaffected. He was suddenly glad it was mandatory for him to wear veils.

"Our marriage," he spat the word like it was poison, pausing for a moment in contemplation, "shall be within a fortnight." He decided. 

Then he turned on his heels, not saying a word as he walked briskly away, ignoring the calls behind him. Slamming open the double doors of the throne room entrance, walking quickly through the hallways, up the stairs of his tower, and finally, finally, safe and alone in his chambers. 

He locked himself there, not bothering to change into his sleep robes as he plopped down immediately on the mattress of his bed. Anthony was surely coming this evening, and his mind kept trying to come up with a way to explain what was happening. The voices in his head were swirling together into an incomprehensible jumble of sentences, one overlapping the other as every thought piled up, slowly tumbling down into near-whispers, frantic, loud, almost static. 

Anthony, he found out about our relationship, we should end it. 

Anthony, our relationship should stop because I don't want to get into trouble. 

Anthony, I need us to stop hiding away our relationship. 

Anthony, this is for the best. 

Anthony, someone found out about us. 

Anthony, I'm going to get married. 

Anthony, I really had no choice. 

Anthony, I don't want to let you go. 

Anthony, I'm trying. 

Anthony, please forgive me. 

Anthony.

Anthony. 

Anthony. 

I'm doing this to protect you. 

The voices stopped right then. 

I'm doing this to protect you, it echoed again. 

I will protect you. 

He threw the blankets over his head, tucking himself into the pillows and trying to fall into slumber.  

He ended up ignoring the knocks on the balcony that night, choosing instead to fall into uneasy sleep. 

There was no other way. 

~

Tag list: @tommarixo @janora00 @bekah1218

(if you want to be removed or added to the list, feel free to tell me!)

Also on AO3

#of magic and love #ironstrange #stephen strange #tony stark #my fic #fanfic #prompt fill #royalty au #my writing

[thetombedspirit]

SPOILERS FOR GOD OF WAR RAGNARÖK - The Daughter of Loki and Angrboda

So, with Angrboda, Fenrir and Jormangandr's appearances in Ragnarök, naturally I'm thinking about the third child: Hel, Queen of the Underworld.

Now, after the quest in Helheim, you can find out that "Hel" is more of a title for the ruler of Helheim then the actual name of a character. As is stands right now, the eagle, Hræsvelgr, is the current and longest holder of that title. And after the main game, you find out that in order to secure her alliance, she requests a replacement so that she can retire. And since the OG Hel is Loki and Angrboda's daughter, then that could only mean one thing...

And that just gives me a ton of ideas. Here’s my take:

Atreus and Angrboda’s daughter, which in here, I headcanon her name to be Ursa, as a nod to Kratos being referenced as the bear to Atreus’ wolf and to Atreus’ first shift, which initially started Atreus on the journey that leads him to meeting Angrboda. And she is just the sweetest girl you’d ever meet: she’ll disappear for a day, freaking her family out, only to find her riding Jormangandr or playing with the wolves and bears of Midgard. She even makes friends with a begrudging war-horse with eight legs after just finding him sulking around the forest and just begs her dad to keep him 😉.

She can summon Hel-Walkers, ghosts and other dead creatures with ease. As a child, whenever she was sick, a pack of Hel-Walkers will just show up and stand guard around the house, not once attempting to take up arms, even as Kratos and Atreus attack, thinking they were there to hurt them. It’s only after Freya points out they’re not even defending themselves do they pause and realise they are here to protect Ursa in her moment of weakness, really driving in her role in the future.

She’s an absolute sweetheart, treating the Hel-Walkers as people in need and finding great interest in listening to the stories of spirits and trying to help them in any way she can, just like her dad would. She’s always growing in her powers of soul magic, even reaching feats that the most powerful of Giants haven’t reached. More on that in another post. Oh, and any curse word she picks up, she repeats with absolute joy and vigour towards her enemies and bullies, absolutely shocking her family. Mimir will ask where she learned such words, and she’ll just say "a friend".

When she gets really scared or angry though, she has her own kind of Spartan Rage: Her skin becomes a pale blue and appears translucent, revealing her skeleton, with looks like it’s glowing with blue fire, like Scorpion from Mortal Kombat. This pays homage to what her OG Norse myth says she’s meant to look: half alive, half dead. Her screams become icy winds, making it so cold as to make even Kratos shiver, flails about like those Hel-Broods, leaping on her focus of rage and just scratching their eyes and face like a rabid animal. She’s lightning quick and as agile as a cat, able to dodge and manoeuvre around the most powerful of attacks. She’s very self-conscious about how it makes her look. Afraid that she’s a monster. Her family will be very quick to remind her that her form is not her nature, that she decides who she is.

I’m gonna dig more into this, but I hope you enjoy my personal headcanon. Thank you!

#atreus x angrboda #hel #god of war ragnarök #god of war #ursa lokisdottir #family feels #sleipnir

[stormcrow513]

Been sitting on this for a bit, because it's absolutely going to piss people off, but what the hell if I can make just one person think, then well it's worth it,

I want to lose weight, or more accurately fat,

My reason are as follows,

I'm sure I'd feel better, I have bad knees, and bad ribs, I can feel the fat dragging on these tender spots at times, I'm sure shedding some fat would help,

I want to improve my overall health, my muscles, my stamina, ect. It all kinda comes together,

While I don't hate the way I look, I think I'd like my appearance more if I were trimmer then I am currently,

This is something I only talk to my ma about, because over the years I've discovered there's not really anyone I can talk to, I get the following responses,

People trying to sell me snake oil,

(It took be a while to realize how awful this is, and that you can't really trust any of it, which lately just hearing a fucking weight watchers commercial either feels me with rage or tears,)

These people are either the sellers of said snake oil or have bought into it for a number of reasons, either way no talking to em, it's like an almost cult brainwashing,

People with really stupid and fucking condescending advice,

Go to bed early and get up early,

I'm a night owl, I don't fucking work like that, that would literally make me more unhealthy and unlikely to exercise,

YoU'rE nOt TrYInG hArD eNoUgH

Then there's the 'you want to lose weight!?! Well aren't you a fat phobic pice of shit'

I mean I get how completely messed up people treat fat people, like I get it, it's messed up and unfair,

But,

Here's the thing what I want to do with my fucking body is not in fact an attack on you,

If you were to ask me how shits going and I mentioned how excited I am that I've lost some weight and am feeling good,

This is not a dig at you if you happen to be fat,

I don't care if you're fat,

I really fucking do not,

Also I am not betraying you personally by seeking to change my body,

Then lately in the last year to now it's,

Weight has everything to do with genetics and you will never never ever lose weight and why would you want to you need to seek to love your body as is,

Duuuuuude,

I mean yes we are in fact learning from scientists the sheer scope of the things we inherited from our ancestors, their trauma, and yes famine has its roll to play,

But good lordy am I the only gal around here that here's how strikingly similar that sounds to terf rhetoric?

I am looking around and it seems to me anytime someone is in anyway unsatisfied with their body there is someone out there frothing at the mouth with hate wanting to force you to not be allowed to do that, or laughing cruely at you with hate, trying to shame you into not doing it,

I've seen it my whole life, I knew this kid at school who kept coming at me calling my ma names for dying her hair,

People still get all pissy about hair dying,

Or how someone styles their hair, the most obvious the way black people are treated,

but everyone of the women in my family were afraid to cut their hair to short cause it pissed my sperm donor off, so it's wide spread problem, like also my eldest sister an I had like the same curly frizzy hair, she spent so much time trying to keep hers tame, which I get cause I never have and some people look at me like I peed in the middle of a church,

Then we got tattoos, my said eldest sister got a lizard on her ankle, and his it from our sperm donor since she was afraid of him,

After she died ma got the same lizard on her arm above her wrist, people will fucking sneer at her, even now 2023,

Then there's the plastic surgery of any fucking kind, sweet jesus,

And of course Trans people deserve their own seperate mention,

Sorry trying to start winding down this got real long on me,

One of the things that baffle me here is,

I have seen people be okay with women getting boob jobs (as long as the boobs are getting bigger) but have a fit over anyone else doing that, especially trans people,

I have seen people who are cool with women getting abortions, but not cool with trans people,

People who are cool with trans people on the other hand seem to lose their whole ass shit if any person who isn't trans wants to modify their body in any way, unless it's for medical reasons,

like their cool with you wanting to get a boob reduction cause of chronic back pain, but if you want to Botox your wrinkles you're an old people hating monster,

I saw this one post where this person was like I don't care if you do plastic surgery and they really clearly did cause they kept saying how sad it is that people hate themselves that much, in a tone so nasty it slapped me through the screen,

Then there was the thing where it came out a bunch of rich guys had their legs broken so they could be taller,

Which that upset me cause a, they can do that but someone wanting a dick or boobs or no boobs is becoming a literal criminal offense, b, I would kill a person to get a breast reduction surgery, my boobs are really messed up, completely loopsided not one just a bit bigger but two completely different sizes, one side being pretty big, I run into shit a lot cause my balance is fucked up,

I was mad cause they got to have that and I can't have what I want, but while people did remark on the unfairness of rich people getting whatever the hell they want,

a lot of people were going off saying this like

' jesus what freak would mutilate themselves like that,'

haha they must really hate themselves,'

'they must hate short people assholes, you're still a short person your height isn't real'

On and fucking on,

All of this shit is so tangled with this werid wide spread mentality that you should have a say in what other people do with their bodies,

It's in all, communitys,

I don't know maybe I watched Ripleys believe it or not, too much as a kid,

There was an episode where there was this guy who wanted to look like a lizard and a gal who wanted to look like a cat, they both had full body tattoos the guy green and scaly, the gal tiger orange and black, they both got cosmetic surgery guy had ridges put into his eyebrows and had his tongue cut at the end for the reptile split tongue look, gal had holes punched into her face around her moth and had removable whiskers,

I at first was a bit like ewww, but also thats kinda cool,

I watched that episode every time it came on, it was my favorite,

cause,

They did what they wanted done to their bodies, they found a way to be more comfortable in their skin,

I've always wanted that,

Not to look that way specifically, but to have that courage and happiness,

I have since then never found it my business what a person does with their body, and I never will,

I hope I one day live in a world that anyone can do what ever they want to themselves, as if our own bodies can be a canvas of our inner artistic expression,

Or to be left as nature built it,

That there is no shame in either choice,

And no struggle for money or such,

That it is simply a thing anyone can do at any time,

Anyway I don't treat people badly for shaping their bodies and I wish I could be extended that same curiosity,

That's all,

[fangsandfeels]

Since I gave Calliper such a disaster of a childhood and social life, coming up with Guardians for her was quite a chore.

I literally had to ask myself: "If I was a tone-deaf mind flayer, digging through the memories of a half-drow with huge self-esteem issues, slavery trauma, deep mistrust for drow, and a general feeling of inadequacy because of her origin...what image should I come up with to gain her trust?"

Option # 1. Personal high elf hero with a shining tadpole

Since Calliper hates drow, who is the opposite of drow? High elves, of course. Graceful and benevolent beings, sun-kissed folk attuned to Fey and wonderful magic, such a stark contrast with spiders, webs, and darkness of the Underdark. Oh, but they are so untouchable, aren't they? So distant. What are the chances of meeting one? Of having such an elf treat her like someone equal, worthy of respect, deserving mentoring and protection? Wouldn't it be wonderful? Doesn't Calliper secretly seek to be accepted at least by someone of her kin, especially those so viciously hated by drow? Wouldn't she trust such a guardian, who came to her when she needed him the most, with her life?

(Spoiler: not really. Calliper has met a few High Elves in her life, and all she got was raised eyebrows, side eyes, and mixed looks of pity. To her, they truly were something distant - while she didn't explicitly hate them, she always felt there was no point in connecting with them. They would never understand. So, while the presence of a handsome and mysterious elven knight, straight from heroic tales, would have been a huge relief in her condition, and it felt nice to be acknowledged and cared for, Calliper has never exactly dreamt about such a hero - and at that point, she gave up trying to impress non-drow Tel`Quessir, so she would treat his offers with suspicion)

Option # 2. "I'm just like you!...No, seriously, I'm literally the male version of you"

Yes, no drow allowed in Calliper's headspace...but what about a fellow half-blood? Finally, someone, who looks like her, who had been through same shit as her and who understands her fears, and concerns - and is there to protect her because he know her struggles and wants to make it better. Together, they can make it through this nightmare. She doesn't have to be alone. She doesn't have to be afraid. Now, open your mind to this tadople, Calliper. Don't worry, you're not alone anymore. He will take care of you.

(This version works better with tugging at Calliper's strings. Her need for belonging at least somewhere shows. While the odds of two half-drows finding each other in ther weirdest of circumstances are sus, just too good to be true, the prospect of finding a kindred soul may have Calliper acting unwise. On the other hand, the experience with her patron taught her that she better not act unwise in her dreams and visions -- it didn't take much for her to accidentally attach herself to the forces beyond her and everyone else's comprehension. She doesn't want to repeat that. Also, if he is half-drow like her, doesn't he know how dangerous tadpoles are? Why would he want her to insert more of these things into her brain?)

Option # 3. "Mother knows best"

The Emperor's cruelest and the most fucked up way to get Calliper's trust and attention -- take a dive into her most vulnerable memories and hopes, and carve them into an avatar for himself. Because even though Calliper tries not to reflect on the obstacles of her birth, she never really stopped asking herself "What if...?". What if her mother never ended up a slave in the Underdark, never went through all of this? What if she, Calliper, was a normal girl, a welcome child, born in a loving union, somewhere under the sun? What if she was born in the world where her mother wanted her?

How would she look like? How would she sound like? How hugging her would feel like? How would it feel to have someone caring and supportive, proud of her and there for her?...

She doesn't even remember the face of the woman who was her mother. Only fragments, none of them happy or pleasant. She knows that she had to be human and that she hated her. And Calliper didn't blame her. She could care less about what happened to her biological father (hopefully, he met his brutal death, got eaten alive, and shat out by a bulette). Still, the thought of having all these powers and being unable to find and wrestle just one more person from the darkness of the Underdark and take her home kept her awake at night more than once.

And then, there it is...an oddly familiar face. A protective touch. A kind smile. Calm, motherly demeanor. Calliper has never met this woman before, yet she radiates comfort and safety. How natural would it feel to trust her? To follow her advice? To hug her as she hides her pain and exhaustion from constantly shielding them from harm?

(I hate myself for coming up with this idea. This is so fucking unfair. It's manipulation at its vilest, and it would have worked. It would have convinced Calliper to consume another tadpole at least once. And, of course, she would be ruined after learning about the deception. Fucking devastated. She'll put two and two together, realize what the Emperor did and have a mental breakdown.)

#bg3 oc: calliper #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #designing dream guardians turned into uncanny mr.incredible meme #i'd want to say that the emperor isn't THAT ruthless but somehow i imagine he'd totally go with option three #to him morality is relevant and trauma is just brain reaction #brains can be tweaked #results are only things that matter #cw: abuse #cw: sa mention #i made my choice but i still feel i'll redo it if i don't feel like this is the way the story should go

[onceuponmyanime]

OBEY ME DEVILDOM

I've always wanted to write about little Fluffy segments on the side about how MC felt in a new place like the Devildom with all these people she should be afraid of but finds an odd sense of belonging.

So this is my small take on it.*

The Avatar of Wrath...

"Thou shall not be angry..."

Trying to find a quiet place anywhere was becoming more and more difficult, especially when all I wanted to do was read a rather interesting leather book I'd found earlier that day.

The best place I could think of was the Library I'd been dying to explore since I came to stay at the House of Lamentation.

But the fear of being eaten by any of the wandering demons here in the Devildom had restricted me to stay in my room most of the time.

Now I was just itching to look around and find out more about this place I was to call home for a year.

Going to the seat on the far side of the Library, I folded my legs up under me as I settled in to read.

I'd just opened the book when it was forcefully taken from my hands.

"I'd appreciate it, if you didn't snoop in to things that aren't yours."

A little embarrassed that I'd done something very wrong, I looked up at a not-so-happy Satan staring down at me.

I could've sworn it was like looking at a replica of Lucifer before his face was quickly schooled back to his usual disarming smile.

"That particular book belongs to me." He explained.

I don't know if my eyes were playing tricks on me, but I just managed to catch a glimpse of a fluffy cat peaking from the cover of said book before he slid it under his arm.

"I-I'm so sorry." I couldn't help but stutter. "I just saw it sitting there, and thought it was a book from the Library."

Even though I knew he was annoyed, he still masked it with a non-chalant shrug.

"No one usually comes in here besides myself, so I tend to leave my things everywhere. I daresay it was more my fault then yours." Then looking a little serious, he continued. "Next time, make sure it doesn't belong to anyone else before you touch it."

Well I definitely wasn't going to make that mistake again.

"Dualy noted."

A little scared to move from my seat, I reached for a book from the nearest bookshelf.

"Do you even know what that book is about?" Satan said cynically.

I shrugged my shoulders even though I knew my face was bright red.

Not really, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of appearing more superior then I was.

"That's the whole point of reading a book. You find out about them from the words written inside."

I realized I'd spoken too soon when the symbols on the page looked nothing like the english language.

"Well I do hope you can read Latin, because I daresay you would have a hard time understanding any of the words in that book."

Annoyed and little pissed off at being made fun of, I stood up and stormed out of the Library, trying to ignore his laughter in my wake.

The more I tried to bridge the gap between myself and the demon brothers, the more I seemed to dig my hole further and further in to the ground.

I wish it would just open up and swallow me, then I would be done with this whole nightmare.

#obey me! #obey me devildom #obey me mc #obey me shall we date #obey me otome #obey me rad #obey me satan #obey me headcanons #obey me hc #obey me fanfic #devildom #om! satan

[pyreflydust]

Sometimes my mother complains that my brother cares too much about appearances and she ignores when I say I do too. Because I don't do it in a way she disapproves of (he acts Too Smart and Too Academic and wears clothes that are Too Nice and I simply HIDE because if people PERCEIVE ME then they'll see my flaws) and I know part of it is because he holds himself together around everyone else and she has to deal with the fallout and only I have to deal with the fallout of my failure to hold myself together while still desperately trying but...

I don't have an On Paper bpd diagnosis but I have an On Paper "We think (he) has bpd but we're not supposed to diagnose that in 13 year olds" on some old psych test from 1999. I had a psychiatrist who insisted I had Rapid Cycle Bipolar despite the fact the cycles were Too Rapid and never really went Up and a therapist who years later, without confirming one way or another, pointed out that most Rapid Cycle Bipolar diagnoses are actually really just Borderline Personality. I have a therapist now who has gestured to coping that I do as Overcontrolled and I think about how the one who most implied I Might have bpd said I have control issues (not as a judgment just as a statement and fuck knows she's right.)

Overcontrolled Personality can come with so very many things. It doesn't have to be "Quiet" bpd but it can be. And I think about how much of my earliest therapy was about making me stop being loud and how many of my toxic behaviors I had to swallow instead of learning to cope with them because it was never "Why are you doing this? Are you in pain?" it was "jfc stop doing this and snap a rubber band against your arm instead" I think about how the "quiet" part of bpd reminds me of the complaint I've seen many people have about autism and adhd and how people rely on external symptoms to make diagnoses. How so many people only care how someone else's mental illness or developmental disorder affects them.

When I was digging into this, before I backed away for fear of seeing my own reflection, I saw someone use the terms pleasure seeking and risk averse and I think about how badly I wanted to be pleasure seeking even if it destroyed me but I was pushed back further and further until I became risk averse. Which is still destructive, just in a way people consider "quiet" so no one gives a shit.

When I go outside, I feel like I'm just visiting. I don't belong out there, mingling with the living humans. I care about appearances but I cannot fake something that Feels Human so I need as little exposure as possible to the Real Humans. I would love to interact with people more, to have a community (to be allowed in a relationship especially because it has been fifteen fucking years since my last one entire teenagers, potentially ones reading this, have been born since then) but the very idea of trying feels like shoving my entire hand into an open wound. I'm afraid everyone else will notice that I don't fit. I'm afraid they'll be disgusted by the very sight of me, let alone the words and the thoughts and the feelings that make up who I am. But the longer I stay shut in, the more I rot and the more I rot, the less chance I have of ever being happy.

#hello time for me to dump my guts onto tumblr dot com at 7am est...edt? whatever #anyway in case this Concerns anyone I'm gonna hopefully be starting a bunch of Extra Therapy soon regardless of Actual Dx #(almost wrong Canon instead of Actual but I mean same thing I guess when you feel Fictional) #little alien life shit