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#has left me feeling so disenchanted
araindropshallfall · 2 months
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The thing is, I’m well-aware there’s great tv out there right now. I even follow and enjoy my own fair share of prestige television.
But god doesn’t it all kinda feel like it’s starting to become the same thing? So many feel like they exist for the purpose of critical acclaim and awards. There’s so much money poured into these shows and they’re good but they feel like the whole point behind them is to make money.
Ofmd was a show that was so wholly and sincerely itself. It didn’t box itself into being just one thing and it took risks. It also had fun. I just don’t feel like enough shows have fun anymore. Not enough of them feel heartfelt. Even the best of the best television is starting to feel soulless to me because I’m being told the same stuff is good over and over again.
Ofmd wasn’t the last of its kind, but the number of shows doing something different right now is dwindling. And it’s depressing as hell.
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(Gif by @wondersmith-and-sons)
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chantsdemarins · 3 months
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New Fic: Breath of the Æsir ⚔︎🏰 (Loki X Reader)
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Formally (Collapsing in the Arms of Chaos) I changed the name. 😬 I know Medieval stories aren't everyone's fav but heck, I hope you like it! It has been brewing in the coffee pot that is in my head for over a year. I feel slightly self-conscious that after my first time with COVID, my brain is not the same. I hope I still have my ability to write! My last story published a few weeks ago was written while I was falling ill and I know it wasn't my best!
Thank you for reading!! If you want to comment I would be so happy and reblogs are like the most precious thing to me. All art is mine, it's a Photoshop-crazed situation.
Summary: Disenchanted with the Danes' misuse of Norse gods to sanction their brutality, Loki finds himself ostracized. Stripped of his divine powers and bearing a severe injury, he wanders into the realm of the conquered. By a twist of fate, he arrives at your manor, where you await your husband's return. However, destiny has other plans.
Warnings: Blood.
Words: 2,471
Smut rating: Not yet...but there sure will be!
Posting schedule: Every Saturday! I am going to stick to this!
Chapter 1 The Embroidery of Destiny Chapter 2 The Stranger Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5
@lokis-little-fawn @lcolumbia1988 @thesoftboiledegg @anukulee @mochie85 @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @nildespirandum @caffiend-queen @mochie85 @maple-seed @mischief2sarawr @kikster606 @thedistractedagglomeration @glitchquake@simplyholl @holdmytesseract @holymultiplefandomsbatman @wheredafandomat @fictive-sl0th @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @muddyorbs @vickie5446 @trickster-maiden @grymrayven
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Before your family settled again, you had been travelers, moving from one darkened patch of earth to the next. Soil on your boots muddied your paths, creating difficulties in finding a home. There were many things to see, some horrors, some things magical and unfounded. Shapes shifted in the forest where you camped at night. One day your father showed you where they lowered men into the bogs, decorated with bronze. These were not the ways of your people. They did not worship like that. It might have been too much for you to know where some ended up when they were no longer living, not in graves or on pyres. Something else.
By the time you reached the northern lands, your family had negotiated your belongings down to just what the pallid horses could carry. Your croft was built into the very earth you had struggled to cross, with bedrooms burrowed into the side of a hill. It was not built for so much rain. Buckets and sluices were not enough to keep out the floods.
So, when your husband came to marry you, you packed your things neatly, placed them in a pack, and left your parents’ home without drawing a breath. You walked a distance far greater than any you had as a child to his family's land, your new home. The way your family had negotiated the marriage remained a blind spot in your mind. You couldn't fathom it. From a croft to a manor.
Over time, nothing in your marriage seemed to flourish. The land, though beautiful, yielded nothing you sowed. Too sandy or too chelated, perhaps unfortunate timing. You became a wife in the loneliest ways. No spinning of yarn would produce a cloth finer than the wool you began with. Hours of practice composing embroidery resulted in nothing more than half completed sea escarpments, knots, and birds with no flight.
The elegant window that surveyed the tenants' labors only deepened your isolation. They carried on with their duties, and you retired to your quarters, curtains drawn. The chill from your childhood followed you here. The stone walls held a dampness no fire could dispel. You knew somewhere across the hills where your parents still sleeping too close to the earth. Rooms still flooded. Though your loyalty never wavered, even as your husband wandered afar, absent for days at a time, his pursuits as obscure as the horizon beyond your room filled with half-finished tasks.
In kindness or disappointment, he had ensured your education extended beyond your lowly beginnings. Through travels and courtly audiences, barons and other titled men and women recounted their lives' poetry over each glass of mead or wine. You listened for moments when they forgot their lines, most days this was more interesting than their images they wanted you to see.
Although had you not met Isolde of Easting, you would not have thought to plant the spiky yellow gorse along the manor's borders. When the proper conversation waned, you had discovered the titled people still spun tales of their lands. The places they had come or been uprooted from. In the best conversations, you gleaned knowledge of the plants, herbs, and tokens from the first peoples, their ways overshadowed by the new cultures but nonetheless seeming to flow from them to you during the quieter moments—the men away hunting, the embroidery thread running low, the teapot empty. These things were spoken of in hushed tones so the servants would not get ideas.
You spoke of the hawthorn tree, the ravens' work, the swords warriors cast into the cold estuary, found along all the lakes' shores. The Roman merchants who brought tales of Jesus and his cross. The god Woden came from the Angles, and Odin, from the North. Their wars and bloodshed filled the spaces between village homes and now the courts. If asked if you prayed to the Christian god, you couldn't say. You longed to speak of the place where they lowered men into the bogs, the place your father once showed you. Later, in the quiet of your room, you would pull out a relic from beneath the blankets in your chest, and it would look unrecognizable. It once held meaning, but that meaning didn't travel with it.
Sometimes when you were awake much too early, the nightingales still singing, you would dip your quill into the small pot of black soot. You would unroll a small piece of parchment, discarded by the cooks, and write down your dreams. Which had room in your sleep since they were so often unimpeded by the presence of your husband. You wrote in the lais of the Frankish people, counting eight sounds to the line, braiding your dreams with your words.
Had I found a small shell, not rope I would have held it to my ear The ocean's song would have come to me Instead, I was swallowed wholly
This was how things proceeded until the day they did not.
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As you came to learn, in the void and closeness of life, nothing is reliable enough to expect its continuation the next day. You should allow for change to slip through the crevices of even the dampest chambers. It just had not happened in so long you almost did not recognize it when something remarkable unfolded at your manor.
On this day, as you sipped your tea, with half-finished yards of cloth draped across your lap, and the unopened book of hours on the small, worn table, your gaze was fixed on the wind billowing the emerald curtains—silk from an era long past, traded by hands unknown. Like much of the decor in the manor, these were vestiges of your husband's family's trade in finery, symbols of their stature akin to that of minor kings.
Elinor, your companion for the last 10 years, rapped on your door abruptly, breaking your contemplative gaze.
“My lady, please excuse me,” she croaked, as the door opened before you could arrange a pretext to delay her entry.
“What is it, Elinor?” you asked, not wishing to dwell on the trivialities of the manor that day. Clearing her throat, she reported urgently of a man in a bad way, injured and lying on the steps. She hastened to your window, the portal to the land beyond your manor, and pointed to the makeshift courtyard where a man lay seemingly lifeless if not for the faint moan you heard.
“Why have you not sought my husband or some other man of decisions?” you questioned with a twinge of fear edging into your refuge of solitude.
“Lady, your husband has traveled beyond into the land of the Scots, and the aldermen are not present either,” she informed you.
“A household of women only, then? How did I overlook such an event?” you pondered.
“Lady, you are often engrossed in your own pursuits within these walls. How could you have noticed your husband's departure?” Elinor reasoned, her words not easing the panic now fully upon you. The thought that your husband had left you unprotected added another layer of anguish.
“At such a time, Elinor, how shall we defend ourselves?” you barely articulated.
“I suspect he gave little thought to the matter,” Elinor replied, her head bowed even lower than her subdued voice.
“Then it falls to me to act in their absence,” you reasoned. Not wanting this conflict or the talk that may ensue you knew you must act quickly. This man perhaps knew your husband, or perhaps it was only a small political scuffle that may have resulted in his injuries. You thought of the many reasons he could have ended up at the steps of your manor of this day. None of them added up entirely.
As you navigated the long, narrow corridors, your thin morning jacket provided little relief from the chill as Elinor aided you with the heavy door. You both stood in awe of the man at your feet. Having seen men before, chiefly your husband. This man’s appearance was now shocking at close view. He was unlike your husband in all ways you could imagine.
“Holy Jesus save us,” Elinor yelled through her missing teeth.
“He will not assist with this, Elinor,” you responded, your eyes surveying the severe wound from his stomach to his chest, the dark blood pooling around his lean form.
The man’s hair was a shade darker than the darkest night. Had night possessed more depth, it would resemble the hue of his locks. His attire suggested nobility, which only intensified the chill you felt. He had clearly been bested in whatever skirmish he had come from, and with no healer at hand, it seemed likely that a burial might soon follow—until his eyes fluttered open.
A striking blue that drew your own darker gaze, hinting at his foreign language or origins. His hand reached out feebly before falling back to his side.
He whispered faintly, “Ásjá.”
“He's alive!” you declared, as if the statement itself could reverse his fate.
“Yes, lady, he lives, I told you. Now what shall we do?” Elinor asked, concern evident in her voice.
“We save him. It is the right thing to do,” you answered.
“But without a healer, we risk much by sheltering him,” Elinor’s voice trembled.
“Then we shall tend to his needs ourselves,” you declared, your courage unusual, unfounded, drawn from the same well that had seen men saved from death at a distance. An instinct came over you. You directed Elinor to gather wood, cloth, herbs, and other necessities that seemed more from your imagination than any practical experience. You quickly cut away his clothes, exposing the dire wound more fully.
“Lady, he may not survive this,” Elinor observed with a somber tone. The unhinged flesh flapping against the seemingly unended torrent of blood emerging from him. How could there be so much blood.
“Silence, Elinor,” you hushed her. Your hands, though failed in the art of tapestry, were adept with needle and thread. So much failure had given you courage.
“We must stem the bleeding before we can stitch him up,” you instructed, asking for a branch from the fire.
“Lady, you cannot—” Elinor began, but you had already pressed the smoldering wood to the wound. The man awoke suddenly, thrashing in pain.
“Hold him down!” you ordered. Elinor, small but determined, restrained his arms.
You envisioned repairing his injury as if it were the "Galley of the Titan’s Moons," a rare piece of embroidery from the northern lands.
“I shall map the night sky upon your body, sir,” you said, speaking into the silence as he drifted further from this world. You sensed the ancestors gather, ready to welcome him, but you were not ready to let him go.
“No, not yet” you whispered, a soft rebuke to the invisible presence.
Elinor looked at you, puzzled. To whom were you speaking?
You were determined. This man would not die. Though you had sent for a proper healer, your task was to keep him alive until they arrived, hoping they would be sober enough to be of use. Much worse would be a drunk priest should your help not find any healer available.
It was not until you had finished suturing his wound that you noticed how his body appeared in the dim light of the great room. Your loneliness resonated with the landscape of his injury. It was a peculiar reaction, but there was something else broken within this man, beyond the sword wound. It was something familiar to your own. You held you own stomach for a moment, it felt as if you were the one almost slain, not him.
Eventually, his bleeding ceased, and the healer arrived, tended to him with poultices and what looked like grain spirits. You wrapped your furs around his sleeping form. He did not pass away. The stranger in your home survived. You had been told he might still not make the night. You watched him for as long as your eyes could. His faint inhalations mirrored in your own. But the exhaustion took over, and before you could retreat to your own chamber, you found yourself lying at his side.
“How improper, Lady!” Elinor’s voice pierced the quiet as dawn crept in and your eyes, heavy with sleep, opened. You hadn’t realized you had fallen asleep beside the stranger. Startled, you rose, wrapping a blanket around yourself. Quickly finding a reason that you had slept at his side.
“He remains unconscious, Elinor. The healer was unsure if he would wake,” you confided in the servant who had been by your side for so many years. She looked briefly placated. Yet you knew her mind was racing. The healer would tell the burgh folk of this strange man. Your husband was nowhere to be known. Northman had recently been subdued with heavy piles of church silver, and that arrangement was delicate at best. They would be back and this time they would perhaps sack the village since you knew the last of the silver had been promised away to visiting bishops and clergy. The wealth had run its course.
“He must stay until he awakens, until he can speak for himself,” you quickly decided.
It was better to know who he was. He would surely tell you since you saved his life.
“But what if he is a demon, my lady? Have you considered that he may have come from Hell to bring us further misfortune?” Elinor ventured, instantly regretting her words as her face contorted with shame.
“I apologize. I did not mean to imply you are cursed,” she hastily added.
You felt pity for Elinor, she was not as traveled as you had become. Had not the stories you knew, but you also could not see beyond, you had no way to know if it was safe to keep him with you. If your husband should arrive back, there would be no way to convince him that this man had not abused you in some way, but you did know something of him. There was something you did recognize.
“This man is no curse, no demon,” you affirmed, your gaze fixed on his hair, as dark as the ink with which you wrote.
“How can you be certain?” she queried.
“He spoke in the old tongue, asking for aid. Did you not hear him, Elinor?” you questioned, your voice steady.
The woman stepped back, tossing another log onto the fire, her confusion apparent. “I did not recognize the language, nor do I understand how you did,” she admitted.
The language was familiar to you, it was the tongue of your people from so long ago. From the place of your birth. The place that was destroyed till there was nothing but darkness.
Chapter 2 below!
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dyketubbo · 1 year
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tbh for me the thing about cbeeduo is that its so like. how am i supposed to look at this dynamic and not feel insane for the rest of my life. like going along w the crushing during nlm hc ranboo fell in love w tubbo at his WORST. they saw some child president who was probably on illegal substances like half of the time with a tired face and forced grin as he got through politics he didnt understand and got insults hurled at him, comparing him to an abusive dictator as he tried to solve a trolley problem (his best friend was on one line and his country was on the other and of course he chooses majority rule but the trolley loops back around anyways and all he did was delay the inevitable) and ranboo saw some 16yr old on his last leg going on about how he felt like he was going to die soon (and hes too too close to the cliffs edge but hes grinning and its like hes really hoping death is a happy ending) and everyone was leaving him and he didnt want all this and ranboo goes follow my voice i wont leave im sorry and they fall in love with whatever virtues there are left in tubbo and decide that they would keep trying to do right by him
and then, inevitably, ranboo messes up and betrays tubbo and tubbos voice shudders and ranboo never wants to see that broken expression of disbelief again so he fights for a country even though hes been disenchanted with it for a while and hes never liked picking sides anyways (but this is tubbo, and if hes choosing tubbo its okay because he cant hurt tubbo again) and of course it falls anyways and tubbo makes a new home and tubbo makes nukes and tubbo makes a plan and then tubbo is on his knees and an axe is held to his neck and ranboo barely gets a glimpse before things are moving forward and tubbo is pressed to her side calling them minutes man again
the marriage starts out as a joke, tubbos never been rich and ranboo only gets richer and tubbo pretends its for tax benefits, hes just a golddigger, because right now its a joke and thats all hes letting it be. but then hes laughing like normal but it feels different and hes looking at the family portrait of the two and michael and hes thinking about bunk beds and he gets a mansion because hes in love at this point because ranboo was there during his worst moments and even as tubbos getting (relatively) better ranboos still there and of course tubbo forgives him because when he met ranboo they reminded him painfully of himself and tubbo cant let ranboo be like him so he falls in love with them instead and if ranboos going to stick by him tubbos going to try and be someone good to stick by
but of course ranboo finds bad influences anyways and tommy is back but different and everythings different and ranboo wont move in so every few days its just him and michael (and god, he shouldnt be a parent at 17, what is he doing with his life? he should have been dead by now) and he tries so so hard to be good for michael and good for ranboo and better for tommy and he isnt really good to himself but thats fine and ranboo is so much better than he'll ever be and michael adores him and tubbo adores him and its fine that the mansion is collecting dust and its fine that ranboo lives by tubbos executioner and the people who helped destroy his country and its fine that he doesnt really know who ranboo is at all outside of his kind husband that was there for him at his worse and its fine that ranboo doesnt really know who tubbo is outside of someone who has been through a lot and needs a good break and its fine that theyre keeping secrets its fine that they never really talk about their problems (its fine that its been months and ranboo still hasnt moved in)
and then they have their first disagreement and tubbo tries to make up for it and it works until they have their first argument and ranboo tries to make up for it but he has to make a point too and they hardly get to talk about it before suddenly time has passed and
and ranboos dead and tubbos a widow and single father at 18 and his (their) son got kidnapped and hes making friends with murderers and hes not sure how to feel about his husbands ghost (and ranboo is so so happy to be dead and ranboo is in limbo alone and tubbo doesnt know how any of this works) so he moves on and his anger gets the best of him and he pushes someone off a bridge and he moves on and he isnt getting better and he moves on and nothings getting better and he moves on and because the dream smp is at its core not that great pretty often theres no closure to any of this ever tubbo dies and loses all his memories ranboos forever a ghost and takes his son elsewhere and thats it the end youre just meant to be normal about all this now. they never learned how to truly trust each other and they were so so in love and wanted to be good for each other but never talked about their problems and now they just Dont Get To. The End !
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satureja13 · 2 months
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Jack is disenchanted and disappointed. As exciting as it was to talk to Tiny Can, he'd expected more of the AI Therapist.
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Sai went back to sleep again, he's exhaused from crying and reliving his worst memories. And Ji Ho and Jack decided to play a bit. But the only 'game' available is a boring puzzle... Jack: "Oh my, I don't know what's more boring. This puzzle or our therapy... Have they never heard about gamification? Or fun? Or to make it a bit more interesting?" Ji Ho agreed. Though the insight about Vlad and his own locked away feelings was interesting. Maybe he should follow and explore these thoughts a bit deeper.
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Suddenly Saiwa was wide awake: "What did you just say, Jack?"
Jack: "Uh - probably something wrong? You finish the puzzle, Ji Ho, I go and run."
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Saiwa: "No! That's actually brilliant!
Gamification! The Game!!!
We combine the AI with our game and make it a Therapy Game!" Jack and Ji Ho: "..." (Haha you can see how Jack and Ji Ho's brains are working ^^') Saiwa: "And not just for us - for other creatures too! This would have been so helpful when we'd been so scared and alone! And who knows? This could be a sucess and we'd make money to pay Rubyn and the others back!" We barely get to see Saiwa this excited ^^' But here some of his main interests meet, his love for games and computers - and being there for others and help them.
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Vlad went back home to grab Saiwa, Jack and Ji Ho's content they'd already had created for their game over the last months and then they started their epic gathering to develop the:
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For the computer game they'd planned, Jack already made the concept art and design, Vlad wrote and Ji Ho composed the music and soundscapes. They are going to feed all this to Tiny Can and see what kind of 'gamification therapy' he'll create. How exciting! (For me it really is! Imagine this: a game that also is a therapy - supported by an AI! How amazing would that be if you could see the things that make you suffer from a distance and you'd find solutions for them by doing insightful AND funny AND interesting quests! You'd gain helpful new habits and get rid of unhealthy ones by playing a game! Where I live it's so hard to find a therapy place. We have to wait up to a year -.- I do have high hopes in AI. You could go by your own pace. And you wouldn't even have to leave the house!)
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After a very long gathering, Ji Ho and Jack relaxed in the hot tub. Jack's pain is thanking him. They sat silent for quite a while, lost in their thoughts. Very unusual for Jack, but his brain is running on hyper speed now. He's so excited :3 And Ji Ho was pondering about his locked down feelings. The Bond made it easy for him to love Luci. They had a whole different approach to each other. While his relationship with Vlad was doomed from the beginning (their story in (kind of ^^') short -> here).
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The only ocassions where Ji Ho was really comfortable with Vlad was, when they touched and made love. And this is also a benefit of the Bond and Luci because Ji Ho hated being touched in the beginning. After all he'd seen at the House of the rising Sun in the slums of Sulani. But Luci had approached him slowly and tenderly. Ji Ho shared his thoughts with Jack: "Do you think this might be a way to become more comfortable with Vlad and finally be able to love him? And to find my buried down feelings?" Jack: "I think that's brilliant! At least one of us learned something in that therapy. When you charge the Bond later, just try a bit more and we'll see how it goes."
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A little later Vlad came down: "Uhm, I'm leaving now. The Bond..."
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Ji Ho left the hot tub and went over to Vlad to charge the Bond - and try his new theory... They embraced each other as usual and then Ji Ho tried to kiss Vlad.
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But Vlad moved his head aside and whispered: "I want nothing more than you - but not like this." Vlad's breath ghosted over Ji Ho's still wet skin and made him shiver.
Vlad still has his principles - not to forget his foolish pride. No way he's going to have a plain physical relationship with Ji Ho - without love. There is no 'two out of three ain't bad' or 'it's better than nothing' in Vlad's world ^^' Only 'it's all or nothing'. He would do anything for Ji Ho, but he won't - and can't do that. It would break him apart. That does not mean it was easy for him to not give in and leave. Vlad really is the master of self control ö.ö
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And then Vlad left. Ji Ho seems a bit piqued after Vlad's rejection ^^'
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'I can't stop this feeling Deep inside of me Girl, you just don't realize What you do to me
When you hold me In your arms so tight You let me know Everything's all right
I'm hooked on a feeling I'm high on believing That you're in love with me'
Hooked on a Feeling - Blue Swede from the OST of Guardians of the Galaxy I
Outtakes
He will be mine, oh yes, he will be mine.
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Yang Mal: "Can we grill our corncobs now?" 🌽 Saiwa: "Uhm - sure ö.Ö'"
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Ji Ho checking the mail... 📬 Who might have sent that letter when Ji Ho looks like that?
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Tyalindo watching the sun set 🌅
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From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest 🕹️ 'Therapy Game' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28
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Breaking down the comics: BEMIS. Part 2
READING THINGS SO YOU DON'T HAVE TO! 
Part one is here. Thanks Tumblr.  (please go read it)
Two issues left of this trash heap volume. Any time you think it can’t get worse you look at the next panel. 
NEXT ISSUE. We’re almost through this collection. This bread is not what I ordered. Send it back. 
ISSUE #192. 
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(Spoilers: There are no sharks in this episode. For those of you waiting for the dolphins, that’s in vol 2)
Alright. In this issue. We open with Marc, Diatrice, and Frenchie sitting at the table having coffee. ANd Frenchie looks very dead and is in scrubs. 
I’MMA PAUSE FOR A SECOND. 
I will cover the Lemire run later. It’s inevitable and something I’m deeply looking forward to. 
The thing about the Lemire run is that it takes place at a time when ALL of Moon Knight’s original friends had left him. Gena, the kids, Crawley, Frenchie, Marlene… They had all been driven away. They were all in pain and either hated him, were disenchanted by him, or just pushed away. 
The Lemire run takes place with the Moon Knight system, Marc in particular, having a severe mental health crisis. 
DID is caused by extreme repeated trauma at a young age. It leads to dissociative episodes, and it is not uncommon for other issues to crop up (thanks trauma!). A lot of systems, if they have the health care, end up in and out of hospitals when they reach crisis points. 
In this run, a LOT of things happen that seem spectacular and fantastical and a lot of things that are grounded in reality. It’s hard to say if the whole thing happened or was really all just in Marc’s head. There is evidence for the latter. I’ll discuss that at a different time. But in this run, he witnesses his friends all leave him again. It’s a way for his mind to make sense of it and to let them go. To let go of the past and the pain associated with his friends departing him. In this world, Frenchie sacrificed himself to save them and died. 
So… Bemis is assuming that the audience took in the Lemire run at face value. He feels he has to explain away the events. He isn’t trusting the reader at all. In fact, he’s even going to try to explain it to the reader.  This is bad writing. This is just… Where is the editorial team? Why are they not explaining things to him? Did they even read his script? Or were they so desperate to feed off of the success of Lemire and get Moon Knight up and going again that they just shoved whatever they could at the fans and waited for the money? 
UNPAUSE. 
So this is why Frenchie is a zombie. He’s trying to explain away Frenchie’s ‘death’.
"Undead?" Frenchie asks Marc. 
"Well, no. Not really undead. Just dead. It's all I can visualize. Like when you seen an old person and think of them naked and then can't stop picturing it." 
"That's disturbing. But I'd be equally haunted if I had seen YOU get murdered in a waking nightmare of insane asylums and Egyptian Gods. You saw it. You felt it. It was real enough." 
(Also he has his legs.) 
There's one of those comic editorial notes in the corner: To find out what Marc's talking about, read the mind-bending Lemire/Smallwood Run! - ED
#^%#$$@ YOU ED. DO YOUR JOB AND ACTUALLY KEEP THE CONTINUITY AND EDIT THIS PILE OF-
deep breaths. deep breaths... We're going to get through this. 
So Zombie Frenchie talks to Marc about what Marc saw in the asylum. 
"Losing you was some kind of fantasy. You can chalk it up to me accepting my dissociative identity disorder, or me facing my demons...But I think I needed to see you die in order to make sense of your worth to me. That's not fair to you. You're my best friend." 
So close. He's SO close to getting the run. And I get the feeling it's spouting off what he was cliff noted about the run without either reading it himself or perhaps he did read it, didn't understand it, and someone had to explain it to him. 
It wasn't about him accepting his dissociative identity disorder or facing down his demons. It was so much more than that. 
At this point Frenchie pulls off his zombie look (literally) and is back to being a normal looking man. 
And we get what Bemis REALLY thinks is going on. 
"You think too much, Spector. You can picture whatever you want in that malfunctioning cranium of yours if it helps you make sense of the hand you've been dealt." 
"...Okay." 
"Now, Marc, are you actually hearing me, or are you still picturing some grotesque fantasy?" 
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He’s just using things as an excuse to paint Marc with whatever mental illness he fancies at the time. Hallucinations are apparently now in the mix. What does Bemis actually think is mentally wrong with Marc? Did he do ANY research at all? Is he just pointing at the DSM randomly and picking out things that make the comic edgy or ‘funny’??
As Marc prepares to go, a brick smashes through their window. 
He climbs out the window, dramatic style, and finds Bushman and Truth and some other guys with guns waiting on the street below. 
Bushman has the landlord (a little old lady) at knife point. 
They tell Marc to meet them in the lobby or the old lady gets it. 
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Oh look. Another jab at underlined villainous homosexuality. 
Just before Moon Knight can start trashing them all, and Bushman knows he would, Raoul tells him that Marlene is on the boat. 
Oh good. Khonshu's narration is back. I'd missed it. 
Honestly, any time Khonshu narrates it's just a lot of random metaphors, over explanation, or depictions on what's going on that aren't needed. 
He describes Marc being tied to a boat surrounded by his enemies with his fate unknown. ....as the comic shows him tied to a boat surrounded by his enemies with his fate unknown. 
Let the reader read the damn comic! 
Bushman goes against orders of the Sun King and decides to go toy with Marc. 
Never a good idea and everyone there knows it. 
He holds a knife to Marc's face. Well... Honestly, it’s in his style to do just this… Props for that I suppose. 
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And Moon Knight makes his way around the top deck of the boat and takes out all the bad guys,circling back around to Bushman. 
"You don't scare me, Spector!" 
"I didn't want to have to do this to you again." 
And Marc cuts off two of Bushman's fingers then tosses them overboard. 
"You can replace those, but they'll never be yours again. And next time, I won't be satisfied with a piece of you. I'm not one of those super heroes who won't straight-up kill you, Bushman." 
It's fitting for what Moon Knight did from the 90s through early 2000s. As much as I disagree with it, it does fit for those times. 
He goes below deck and finds a bunch of sad looking people sitting around like refugees. 
Marc asks what's going on and he's told that they signed up for this. 
He talks to one of the kids who tells him they are going to an island to form a new city for only them. 
Back on deck, he finds Truth. 
"Unlike Raoul, I think I may have learned my lesson in trying to defeat you personally. Besides, I was tasked with your delivery to the Sun King. I just want to help you see what I see, Spector." 
For once, Truth is pretty reasonable. 
True uses his powers on Marc and it's just... 
"I have a vision every waking day. Lovers and dreamers piled waist-deep in the streets. I wade through piles of their slack, twisted bodies. Utterly powerless. Nauseated. It's my fear of this moment that motivates me, not the desire to save lives. The Fear that I've built my sanity on a lie. My hope for a better world is my most tragic form of dissociation." 
You know... I'm not even sure Bemis knows what dissociation really is at this point. 
Truth tells him that he's ready to face the Sun King now. 
They arrive on the island where the 'refugees' get off and go to make camp in the village that they found. 
OKAY. Okay. okay... here we go. 
So... I'm going to point out something here that someone probably should have mentioned to Bemis while editing this crap. 
The bad guy henchmen are all disabled people. People missing arms, legs, hands, eyes, on crutches, or fake legs and things. 
They follow around a man that looks like white Jesus that calls himself "Ra the God '' and "Sun King". They head to a place that Bushman called an "Undiscovered tribe of underdeveloped backwards people". They take over the island for themselves and he brings in other people to populate it....
He's literally colonizing it. 
The other bad guy is an overweight drug dealing black man with possible repressed homosexual desires for the good guy. The other bad guy is a large menacing tattooed white guy that makes people spout nonsense and calls it deep truth like characters in a Chuck Palahniuk novel! 
Is anyone else as fed up with this as I am? Am I reading too much into this? Is this really not as bad as I think it is? Because…this looks pretty bad. 
Moon Knight finds Sun King on the beach who welcomes him to "Isla Ra". 
"Soon this island will burgeon with those willing to light up this shadowy world. They're like us, Marc! The sickly, the fragile, the INSANE. Society's regrettable by-product, but to me...To us... They are everything!" 
He tells Moon Knight to relax. He knows that as long as Marlene is his prisoner, Marc won't do anything to risk her. 
"Take a catnap, Marc. We fight to the death tomorrow, but tonight we indulge in a ritual." 
"A ritual you probably just made up." 
"Ra feeds my mind what it needs to know." 
"You're going to drug me, aren't you?" 
"Sleep, Marc. Tonight we become enlightened." 
So... We see nightfall and Sun King and Marc sit before a camp fire. 
So of course we get an instant jab of homophobia. 
"Why did we have to do this half naked?" 
"Shhhh Let your mind unravel, Spector." 
"I don't do well with psychedelics, Sun King." 
"It was only tea." 
"It smelled like woodstock." 
I have a problem with this. Marc is telling him flat out that he doesn't do well with psychedelics. 
Studies have shown that certain drugs can actually trigger mental illnesses that are linked to chemical imbalances. Not to mention that if he happens to be on any drugs meant to help him, they could negate their effects, interact with them poorly, or make him very ill. 
We know Marc has been in and out of mental hospitals. We know he's been drugged before in these hospitals. Forcing him to take a psychoactive trip is not a cool thing to do for the dramatic storytelling. What’s going to happen is that we’re going to get a really trippy scene of them going into Marc’s ‘messed up’ mind and he’s going to learn things, find peace or some bullshit, and then be healed. 
This gives the wrong message that doing these potentially harmful drugs will fix all your problems! Especially if you have dissociative issues or other similar issues. 
ALSO. People with DID? Not all the alters respond the same way to inebriation. Some will get drunk if they look at a beer. Others can do a LOT of pot and not feel a thing. The brain is a fascinating and complex place. Marc could do psychedelics and Jake could just be having a nice time while Steven has the worst trip of his life. 
Sun King goes on. 
"We share what they label 'insanity'. That gives me a gateway into your beautiful, tortured mind. Let me in, Marc. Let US in." 
NOT ALL MENTAL ILLNESSES ARE THE SAME. ONE CRAZY DOES NOT ALL CRAZY MAKE. 
And Marc starts tripping. 
In Marc's mind, we find Marc, Jake, Steven, Khonshu, Sun King, and Ra. 
Ra calls Khonshu a "bad boy" and Khonshu calls Ra a "loathsome fascist." 
Marc tries to tell himself that this isn't real. Jake demands to know how Ra can be there if it's "all just made up by Marc's mind". 
"Steven is distressed and theorizes that "I think we've entered the world of metaphor, Jake. ANd it's scaring the hell out of me." 
Bemis must really dislike Steven Grant. He writes him as weak, cowardly, clingy, and narcissistic. Not a fan. 
So now, Ra takes hold of Khonshu and tells him to show him the truth. 
He spouts a lot of garbage here and it just... It's fanatical. It's... It's dangerous. 
What do I mean by that? He's talking about things like righteousness. About prophets and saviors and gives images of a world under idealistic circumstances where everyone gets along because he rules it. 
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Marc snaps out of his trans by the fire to declare "No... Ra is....RIGHT?!" 
There was nothing right about that crap. It makes no sense. It’s just propaganda crap. There is no just and right and perfect in this vision. It’s a problem. A big problem. 
END ISSUE. 
One more to go. I can’t wait to put the Sun King behind us. 
After all? How much worse can it get? (spoilers so much worse. Sooooooo much worse). 
ISSUE # 193
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I like how the past two covers have had NOTHING to do with the actual story inside. It’s like they are trying to make it look cooler and more dramatic than things are. 
Moon Knight in the jungle? I’d read that. Marc spent a lot of time in South America. Although, standing on his cape like that means he can't stand up without falling out of the tree. Just saying. 
Alright so... Marc went on a drug trp and came to the realization that Ra and Sun King were right for some reason? 
And this broke him and made him some passive weakling for some reason? 
We see him wake up the next day and being kicked around and dragged around because "the moon can't save me now." 
Then he's taken to a tent with some old lady outside knitting and she uses her flaming hot knitting needles to burn a sun into his back? 
Back with Frenchie and Diatrice, we see her praying to "Dear Mister Khonshu" and she asks that he not let "the bad men kill my daddy." 
She asks him to let Marc save her mom so they can be a family. 
Marc is pretty broken now and he's taken to see Marlene. 
He tells her that "this time is different"
"I know. He's different. I know because I'm actually scared." 
And Marc begs Marlene not to let Diatrice forget him because he's going to die. 
Why are they acting like Sun King is some super huge bad guy unlike any they have ever faced before? They have faced WORSE. 
He's fought ghosts. He's fought vampires. He's fought werewolves. He's faced aliens and apocalyptic events! 
Some hippy looking man with flames is NOTHING. 
HE'S FOUGHT SO MANY ANIMALS (I need to make a list). 
Marc is taken to a ring of fire and tossed inside to face the Sun King in a battle to the death. 
He tells Marc to fight like he means it or he'll hunt down his daughter and burn her to death. 
They fight and he takes a beating because suddenly Sun King knows how to fight? 
He sets fire to Marc more than a few times. 
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Back in the head space, Jake tells Khonshu that they have to do something. 
I have real issue with the assessment here. 
Khonshu tells him: 
"Look around us. We're just faint firings of his synapses now. His defense against the darkness. As we have been since his childhood, and...Our connection is nearly severed. He is alone now, save for death itself." 
This is the belief that Marc is "the original" and that he created the others to deal with things and gave them all parts of himself. 
This is old thinking that people with DID were just shattered and broken bits of themselves that needed to be put back together. It's outdated. It's insulting. 
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Why does everything Khonshu says just sound like absolute drivel? 
Like he was TRYING to be deep and just spouting off things that sounded metaphorical. It's just bad writing. He's clearly trying to copy Lemire. 
So he asks if Jake has ever believed in anything. 
And Jake remembers Diatrice. 
And they all take a moment to bask in the glow of their daughter’s memory. 
Then we get Steven’s version of what Khonshu said. 
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Yeah. This is where that saying comes from. 
Somehow this gives them the ability to punch harder? 
And he starts beating on Sun King. 
He gets the Sun King to admit that he fears him now for some reason. 
And this makes everyone happy like some sort of 1980s movie.
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And the Sun King can no longer use his fire. Because 
"I convinced you. Now Bow before me you horrible bastard." 
I'm not sure it works like that, Marc. But sure. You convinced him. 
And the Sun King bows down before him. 
"Thus ends the reign of the Sun King." 
And the people in the croud are cheering? Despite being there to support the Sun King and because they hate Moon Knight. 
Later we find Marlene bandaging up Marc's burns. 
The Truth stands by watching for the boat to return to get them off the island. 
"The man's cause is dead to me. Proven false by his impotence. I would undo any affiliation I had with him. I've found the facts of life to be more...Malleable than I realized. Maybe with some time in a room by myself...I might reassess my purpose." 
Yeah sure. A man is impotent because he lost a fight with another man and now no one believes in him. 
This is some fucked up masculine toxicity. 
Marc turns to address the other people on the island. 
"All of you just got stuck on a desert island because you let yourself get convinced of a bunch of crap by a completely mad super villain."
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Uh huh. So the notion of him raising his own group of followers and warriors out of normal people. Cause that isn’t an issue. Obviously these people are easily swayed and maybe a bit fanatical. So telling them that you are now the new leader is not problematic at ALL. 
Also? That “I believe” in the back? 
We get a zoom in. I’m not going to show you the image. 
It’s Dr. Emmett! 
She's in her Moon Knight cloak thing (why would she bring that to the island with her if she was there following Sun King?). 
She's covered in burn scars and missing an eye. It's drawn to look like a rotten hole. 
Does no one believe in medical care here? Open eye holes are a problem. They run a risk of infection! Also they don't just stay open eye holes. The eyelids will collapse downward a bit. 
Anyways. She's back there going "I believe... I believe! Your doctor believes, Marc!" 
And the comic ends there. 
That was something alright. UGH. 
Give me a second to gather my thoughts up from this burning dump of ableism and poorly depicted mental health peppered with racism and anti-semitism. 
Volume one of Bemis is like a love letter to the kinds of people that think it’s fun and funny to show mentally ill people as dangerous, wild, unpredictable, and overall pathetic. 
The continuous use of language like ‘Insane’ and ‘Crazy’ is more than poor taste. It’s a constant reminder that we aren’t supposed to see Moon Knight as normal at all or even sympathies or identify with him. 
You see, there is a difference between “We have the power of crazy” and “You were the only superpower I ever had.” 
A big difference. 
In the former, it’s played up for laughs. Much like the old gags of seeing a man in a dress. It doesn’t age well but it persists. It persists because it still garners laughs. And the people that are still laughing are the people like Bemis. And he draws in more people who are like minded and he tells them it’s okay to keep laughing. 
The latter is a beautiful way to show that having DID was a powerful and wonderful way to be strong enough to survive when everything didn’t want you to. 
How did he get away with this? He is Bipolar. I’m not going to argue if he is or isn’t. I don’t know him and that’s his own personal history. I’m going to argue that being Bipolar does not give you the right to assume you understand ALL mental illnesses or that you can write for all of them. Or even lump crazy with crazy. 
Marvel is the sort to say “Ah yes, this person had a drink with a black person once so they should be able to write for Luke Cage.” Or “I took high school spanish so I can write for Miles Morales.” 
We can’t put up with this anymore. We can’t let them do this. We can’t let Marvel keep perpetuating things that hurt us. That hurt others. That keeps ripping the power away from those with so very little to begin with. 
So this is Vol 1 of Bemis. 
“But Drifting Pieces” you might say “How can it get worse than this? This was pretty bad.” 
My friend… You are in for a ride. 
PART THREE: HERE
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shroudkeeper · 6 months
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The red-lantern district had suited Shigure's needs, especially with the left-over coin from his exploits. He was shamed by his former clan, and humiliated by the oyabun, but here it didn't matter. Whilst under the sway of scarlet lights, the feel of silks, and the lascivious entertainment that was provided, he could plot his own vengeance. Whether it was his brother or the man who was more of a father figure than his own flesh and blood, they failed to see the bigger picture.
And for that, they would not be a part of his grand design.
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“..is that right, my little bird, you will do anything for me? ” how beautiful she appeared before him, with soft lips that ached for a kiss, he wanted to rip his very teeth into them, taste the ichor that flowed in her veins. He sampled her skin each night, some evenings she would fight against him but she always succumbs to him. His spirited little beast, how the chase only made the victory all the sweeter.
She made no noise, but her body ultimately always responded to his touch. The quivering of her slender limbs, the shudder that ran its course down her spine, all keynotes of her pleasure. Something Hayate was incapable of giving her.
“ I know what lies under all of this supple, and malleable, flesh. The true beauty that no one but me sees. My brother is blind, your father is an old fool latched to the past, sentimental about a dead daughter who has no worth compared to you.” Forcefully, he dug into her skin possessively, forcing her to settle upon his lap so he could look at her directly and see the reflection of the monster beyond her gilded eyes.
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“ Yet you still decide to invest time in someone who lacks worth, an ijin who barely can handle a blade to defend you. You belong to me, all of you, every monstrous ilm making up your existence. What must I do to make you understand, make you see, how much you mean to me..” His jaw tightened and he ran his fingers along the curvature of her naked frame, feeling every ridge of her spine, the slender pathway of her arms that lead up to her shoulders, until he found his prize.
Her slender neck.
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Rivulets of water ran down the canvas of her body, glistening under the gentle touch of moonlight illuminating them both. She struggled, kicking her legs, but he lifted her high above the surface of their shared bath. Waves of hot breath fell against her face as her features contorted into pain. Finally, she breaks into a stifled sound of supplication, but his hands are unwilling to release her.
She was fighting back again, as she did each night when he asked her this. Why could she not answer her truthfully, that she too wanted him, that she needed him badly in her life. They were cut from the same cloth: two horrors that were intimate with death. He wanted her to confess it, to say it. Suddenly the strangled cries emerged, but it was not the sound he wanted to hear. He pressed on but to no avail.
He would force it out of her, no matter what, he would have the words greet his horns. To satisfy him.
Crack!
The sickening sound silenced her cries, and within a heartbeat, her arms fell off to her sides and she failed, as others before her, to provide him with the answer he deserved.
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The sound did not shake him, but it shattered his illusion, and thios warped fantasy dissolved when his vision became clear. Shigure saw the woman he paid for listlessly hanging from his grip, no longer smiling at him, cooing from his touch. There was no empathy, no remorse, only disappointment as he sobered and saw the farce before him.
Men. Women. They all became disenchanting when the sake ran its course.
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heretherebedork · 1 year
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I catched up with Bed friend the series, the rules scene left me perplexed because I felt that he was saying some rules to make King back away, notably the monogamous sex friend where he was smiling when he saw King’s disenchanted face. He probably thought, he was not going to accept after this. Why would he wanted a monogamous sex relationship with him ?
Okay, so this answer was based on a misinterpretation of this ask, I admit. But also, yeah, Uea absolutely expected King to turn him down. Uea always expects to be turned down. He expects to be alone and to be punished for wanting anything. Uea has spent his entire life being beaten down by the people who should be lifting him up and protecting him. King is the last person he'd expect to be able to recognize and respect boundaries and that's why King is exactly who Uea needs to protect him.
But the rules scene made perfect sense to me. This is Uea trying to protect himself but also trying to find a way to have what he desires and wishes for and needs but also fears.
Because Uea's trauma means that the idea of having multiple sex partner is very, very triggering to him and I mean that in every sense. He has been told he's a slut and dirty for wanting sex at all and the idea of having multiple partners or his partner having multiple partners is horrifying to him.
Uea has always been told that his desire is bad and filthy and dirty and meant to keep him in the dark, to punish him, that desire and love for men meant he was punished.
He desires King and everything he offers but he is scared of his own feelings and desire and what he wants. All of those feeling present a clear danger to him due to his mother's abuse.
Uea craves closeness, sex, love, a relationship and more but between a lifetime of different abuses and his most recent relationship turning out to be cheating, he's going to lay down rules that make him feel safe. And that includes limiting sex, insuring that they are only doing it together and being certain that everything he asks will be respected.
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thevoidscreamer · 4 months
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Reclaiming the winter holiday season.
Christmas was not always a hard time for me. When my grandma Yvonne was alive, she made it magical. Every year we would have a holiday tea party with parlor games, fancy hats from the 20s and 30s, amazing food… and her house was always beautifully set up on the inside with simple kitsch decor. She’d set up this little ceramic village and let my brother and me put the people and the snow on it. I would get to see the side of my family that my mother always despised — my witchy aunt, my Peruvian shaman uncle, my sports-loving cousin who’s now crossed over to the other side.
Yvonne was my best friend, and also the kind and gentle hand that kept my mom in check. She lived at my house during her dying days, though she did officially pass in her own home, at her request. She was the epitome of gentle, affirming love to which I have always aspired.
We didn’t spend every Christmas with her. We made a point of visiting my mother’s mother and step dad in Nevada for holidays, too. One year, when we were particularly down on our luck, they came to us. My mother’s mother, Sue, is still around. She was good at keeping up the Christmas magic, always making gifts from “Sandy Claws” and the reindeer. One year, most of us cousins on my mom’s side got to stay over at her house (one of my cousins was in jail so he couldn’t be there. I’ve actually never met him). We had sleeping bags and we played games on the Super Nintendo and my now late aunt made some amazing culinary masterpiece. We played a huge game of hide and seek.
I have only this year allowed myself to voice these sweet and beautiful core memories. For all their magic, there is pain that wells up alongside them. I miss Yvonne. I resent my mother for alienating me from my cousins and aunts on all sides. Other christmases never stacked up because my parents would fight about it constantly during the season. My dad wanted us to have the magic and mystery he did as a child. My mom disagreed with the pagan roots. They both struggled with mental health and dysregulation, which can be exacerbated by the weather and pressures of that time of year. The best Christmas present I ever got was my dog Daisy. But when I reached adulthood, my parents made it clear I couldn’t take her with me when I moved out. It’s just a lot of bitter-sweetness. A lot of grief.
By adulthood I was disenchanted with the whole thing. The commercialism, consumerism, materialism; the politicization of some imaginary “war on Christmas” that demonizes non-Christians; the pressure to give a gift to every single person in your life, lest they feel left out. Plus, I had begun deconstructing my evangelical upbringing. Why celebrate Christmas if I’m not Christian?
I had three best friends who were huge on celebrating Christmas, all of whom invited me to their various holiday events. Slowly, starting in high school, their happy little traditions became cornerstones of joy amidst my struggles with homelessness, depression, dysphoria, anxiety, abuse, PTSD, etc. but it wasn’t until this year, now, as I approach the horizon of 29 years of life on this planet, that I’ve allowed myself to just feel Christmas joy, and the grief that comes with it.
One of the aforementioned besties (in her 60s) is very, very sick. I’m realizing that she may not be around next Christmas. I’ve been thinking about how she’s always included me in her life, kind of like a third kid (she’s got two) and how important this holiday is to her.
I’ve been thinking about how one of the other besties, her mom loved the holiday, but passed away our sophomore year on Christmas Eve. Bestie and I preserved her Christmas traditions for the little siblings, and now that bestie has a kid, she will be passing those down to the little one, whose first Christmas is this year.
I’ve been thinking about my late grandmother, aunt, and cousin, and the ways they all spread Christmas cheer in their own unique ways. Decorating, cooking, being kind. They built a safe space for me, a kid who was struggling to feel loved, accepted, safe, or stable in my own home.
I remember my grandmother saying, “well, what do you think we should do?” Highlighting that my artistic vision matters.
My aunt saying, “well go ahead and try it, and if you don’t like it just spit it out!” Reminding me that I am allowed to disagree with people in authority, and that it’s important to listen to my body.
My cousin saying, “it’s okay if you don’t want to play, sometimes it’s nice just to be together.” Letting me know that I‘ll still be loved, even if I’m not constantly displaying happiness or agreeability.
I still celebrate yule, as has been my personal tradition since 2014, but this year I’m celebrating Christmas, too. I’m hanging stockings. I’m making a little paper tree. Im wearing red and green and dancing to the music in the grocery store. I’m watching Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town and A Christmas Carol and The Polar Express. I’m lighting candles and allowing my joy and grief to mingle. I’m celebrating the lives, loves, and losses that led me to who and where I am. I’m choosing to continue the legacies of the people who loved me when I did not know what it felt like to be loved.
Happy holidays ♥️ I hope yours is full of peace and reflection, kindness, joy, and stable, affirming love.
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generalluxun · 10 months
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The show is less episodic, but it's always had emotional weight. Ladybug has her meltdown moments since season 1 because she's the only one who can save Paris and we feel for her being that the city is in peril. No mention of the French armed forces to help out this 14-year-old and make her job easier. No special squad to help with akumas. Somehow it's all up to her and we're supposed to not wonder about these things and feel bad. Emotional moment or not, you have to suspend your disbelief to watch this show and become emotionally invested in the characters. Doesn't seem farfetched to me in that area. Not for ml. Don't get me wrong. They are totally salting on Chloe, but I have a feeling they'd pull something farfetched like this Chloe salt or not and will in the future. It's just more obvious to you now and you're less willing to stomach it because you're disenchanted with how they're treating her. Which is fair.
I understand what you are saying. I do think there is a difference with suspending the Superhero's help. LB/CN are the protagonists, if they had an entire army out there and the NY heroes rolled in then they wouldn't be the protagonists anymore. So, we put it on her shoulders as a superhero.
It's also key they not help because duty/responsibility is Marinette's only tie to being Ladybug. They haven't given her any motivation other than 'I have to because I am the only one' (which I think is a narrative flaw but another topic)
However making that same protagonist NOT utilize her primary traits (making connections, looking at things differently, etc) in order to protect the main villain in a REALLY OBVIOUS ploy at the very end is just sloppy writing. It's something that could have even been addressed, explained away with a line or two. 'Daddy left these at the hotel. Look how they're already programmed!'
The lack of it, shows a lack of caring and single minded focus on said salt :) It's not the first(nor the last) time this season that huge holes with very simple single-line solutions were left hanging. It's just symptomatic of how sloppy S5 is. Stringing together a strong narrative is not this writing team's strong point. They think in terms of set pieces, moments, and point-to-point plotting that works in a reset-heavy episodic style. It doesn't work in a serialized style that requires continuity. *waves at multiple episodes this season that don't even care S1-3 exist*
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tairona-is-taken · 3 months
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So I finally finished Merlin ...
I had seen parts of the show over the last 15 years and loved the parts I saw, but for some reason, I never sat down and made an effort to watch it from beginning to end until last summer. Anyway, I finally got to the finale a few days ago. I knew what was going to go down already because I am a person who's alive and on the internet, but man, was that still crushing to watch. T_T
I have a thousand thoughts on the show and who knows if I will ever have time to write them up, so for now I will just dash out my immediate thoughts after the finale ended (aside from "I just had my soul ripped out and will never recover"):
The intense emotional bonding between Merlin and Arthur in the last episode, as well as Colin and Bradley's incredible acting in it, just swept me away. I have since read a review that points out all the logical holes and characterization issues in Diamond of the Day 1/2--and in retrospect, I agree that the finale has a ton of issues--but still, it hit me hard in the feels and I love that they allowed Merlin and Arthur to be so unabashedly ardent about what they mean to each other.
I was prepared for Arthur's death (or about as prepared as one can be), but what I did not know was that GWAINE was going to die, too. D: I have since read that apparently he is one of the knights who frequently dies in different versions of Arthurian legend, but still ... that one got me.
Gwen was a total badass at the end! Battlefield medic! Stabbing Saxons! Unmasking Eira the traitor! Figuring out Merlin's secret all on her own! And I love that Camelot is not actually going to fall with Arthur's death, because it has been left in her capable hands.
What really gutted me more than anything, though, is that we never get a denouement where Gaius, Gwen, and Merlin reunite, take comfort in each other, and mourn Arthur and Gwaine together--and that we never even see Merlin in the throne room scene when Gwen is crowned???? What the hell, show? I've seen the theories that--especially given the very last scene in the modern age--that Merlin never returns to Camelot, but I just ... refuse to believe that. So instead, I'm going to go with this excellent theorizing in an old LJ review by ravenya03 as my head canon for what happens after that coronation scene:
Though there’s been some speculation, I’m sure that Merlin will return to Camelot and Guinevere. How could he not? I assumed he already had, and that’s how they all knew that Arthur was dead. They’ll grieve together, they’ll talk about Arthur’s final moments, she’ll tell him that she knows his secret. She’ll legalize magic, she’ll appoint Merlin as her chief advisor, she’ll give him a seat at the Round Table, and she’ll make him her liaison to the druids (essentially, she’ll do all the things that Arthur was meant to do). She’ll arrange for Hunith to come to Camelot so that she can be with her son. Together, they’ll send out envoys to other kingdoms, creating an alliance of Queen Annis, Queen Mithian, Queen Elena and (a disenchanted) Queen Vivian which heralds in the Golden Age (I’ll consider this compensation for five seasons of rampant misogyny). Mithian will visit and comfort Gwen with what Arthur once said about her: that without her, his kingdom meant nothing. With Arthur dead, the love spell on Vivian is finally broken and she hooks up with Percival. Gwen will realize that she’s pregnant and give birth to a healthy child. Gilli will return so Merlin will have a magic-buddy that isn’t deranged. Gaius will die and be replaced by Alice as the new court physician. Guinevere will track down Sefa and make her peace with her. Merlin teaches her how to use the Horn of Cathbad so that she can talk to her father, brother and husband every year.
Anyway, I have now entered my traditional period of mourning that happens when I finish a beloved piece of media. Time to drown myself in fanfiction (and possibly start watching the show over from the beginning?) in an attempt to fill the Merlin-shaped hole in my heart.
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six-of-ravens · 1 month
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aloha friends and people who left annoying incorrect opinions on my posts, raistlin is a waif he is the waifiest waif it doesn't matter if his twin is a brick shithouse you are WRONG I am kinda sorta back. maybe only for one tipsy night, but who knows. listen, I'm 1.5 ciders in and feeling Properly Tipsy as opposed to last night when I drank jack and cokes for the first time in a while and just felt nauseous, so I'm Thriving atm. ANYWAY.
i feel like i have cleared some cobwebs from my brain. kind of. mostly i redownloaded bc i have the irresistible urge to natter about my life. tbh i considered deleting tumblr for a while bc there are some things about this site (but also social media in general) that annoy the absolute shit out of me, and also i feel like I dedicated too much ~mental energy~ to this site in the past (not to sound like some new age crackpot) and I need to cut down on how much scrolling and getting mad about other people's incorrect opinions I do. However, there are a few beloved mutuals on here that I miss talking to and also tumblr is kinda Home, y'know?
anyway TLDR I'm back, kinda. might still delete the app during the day so I can focus on IRL shit instead of being a zillennial social media addict, so I apologize if I miss messages etc but. yeah. for the sake of my mental health I have to be better at self-policing. Also, no longer going to allow myself to use the For You tab, so sorry if I don't see your posts bc tumblr only served them there. I can't control it lmao. frankly the algorithm here just ain't good enough and I don't want to cry AGAIN bc a video of a naked woman jiggling her stomach with a caption about how much she hates herself and wants to lose weight came up on my feed. Frankly since this is tumblr I'm not sure if that's porn or self-harm, but either way, fuck off with that shit, man! I kinda hate my body too and I don't wanna see that!! I don't want that in my brain!! Hence why I quit and went to ig-only for a while. My IG is all pottery and miniatures and painting and European travel vlogs it's so PEACEFUL!
now onto the fun stuff, a list of things I consider interesting that happened in the past 3ish weeks:
have done a whole lot of reading lately: Homesick for Another World by Ottessa Moshfegh which is weird and off-putting by very worth reading, then a reread of the Unicorn series by Vicki Blum (always a delight) and finishing Princess Jellyfish (there's quite the plot twist in the last few books but overall it's a delightful series), then my hold for Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk came up (extremely interesting and worthwhile read, especially after listening to the No Dogs in Space punk series, very sad ending though bc of course a lot of the punk musicians passed away young), and now I'm rereading The Mermaid's Secret and The Dragon Prince by Vicki Blum as a palate cleanser, and then hopefully I'll start the LoTR reread I've been meaning to do for a while. So yeah I read like 16 books in 3 weeks. this is the power of quitting social media.
Also I've kinda discovered that I'm just pretty... disenchanted with all book-fandoms online. it's just so...kinda annoying? nowadays? just the same old drama over and over and I don't caaaare lol. Read what you want, at whatever speed you want, idc, none of it matters. I read for funsies after work. Some people read 24/7 because being a book blogger is their career. Some people are 17 and still have the mental stamina to read a 500 page book in 2 days. Idgaf if you read Maas or Austen or Sanderson or whatever, there's no moral high ground (except maybe not giving Sanderson money bc WOW BYU is a shitty organization). Also I don't necessarily want other people's opinions on what I read or if a book I just bought has "mixed reviews" or whatever (unless the person is a mutual whose opinions I value lol). So I might start posting on the book blog again but just....not interact with booklr. Torn between the desire to communicate with others and the desire to keep my hobby all to myself and free from unnecessary judgement or bullshit.
Finally rearranged my bookshelves, by ~vibe or whatever~. Might post photos tomorrow but the living room is once again in a state of chaos since I started gardening today.
On that note, started my garden! planted some veggies, herbs, and a whole boatload of tomatoes in seedling trays (listen, MacKenzie seed were on sale 3/$5 today at the store and I'm weak for weird tomato variants and herbs. Still need to find rosemary and fennel though). Have more stuff to do, but I'm going to give the seedlings a couple weeks to get started and then maybe plant everything else Easter weekend. Last year was nice, garden-wise, but this year I really hope we don't get 30C weather in May. My allergies cannot handle it 😭
saw the Alien/Aliens double feature our cheap theatre put on and it was a DELIGHT
we also got a record snowstorm that weekend, which sucked bc it was the same week I'd had a random friday booked off (previously for traveling with my aunt, very glad that was cancelled now) so I basically did none of the other things I had planned.
also after said double feature, had to make my first 911 call. luckily I rot my brain with true crime All Day Every Day so I handled it like a pro 😤 (i am fine it was for another person, and uh, it turned out to not be so serious once the emergency people were able to get them to stop crying hysterically and realized this poor person was just intoxicated, underdressed for the weather, and a bit lost)
discovered the health foods store near my place has a bunch of funky herbal teas for like $5.50 a box so I've been going a little nuts there. I LOVE FENNEL TEA IT'S SO GOOD. ALSO LAVENDER MY BELOVED! they also have a bunch of local coffee blends, and I'm seriously considering getting a coffee bean grinder so I can try them
saw Lisa Frankenstein the week after the Alien double feature at that same theatre, it was fucking excellent I laughed my ass off, also at that theatre you can get your ticket and snacks and drink for the same price as a Cineplex ticket, it's excellent
finally watched Saltburn, which was great. love the Donna Tartt vibes. i watched it while somewhat drunk off Soju, which I think is how it's meant to be viewed.
also started a Ghibli rewatch, to justify not cancelling my Netflix just yet (I know I know, I should but I technically can afford it and it's my emotional support streamer you know? how else am I going to instantaneously watch Gilmore Girls on a bad day?) So far I have only watched Kiki's Delivery Service lol
Also, funny anecdote: last week I got my period and was VICIOUSLY craving alcohol. like I went to the store and bought the most bizarre range of random things (soju, honey jack, and mead...and then proceeded to drink them at my normal rate lmao). Realized afterwards this is a combination of my usual craving for sweet things + my very stressed coworker constantly joking about how we need to crack a bottle of something when this stressful project is finished. At the time however I thought my uterus was trying to make me an alcoholic.
Did my budgeting with my new rent and discovered that I'm actually fine, because I had DOUBLED A NUMBER SOMEHOW! and I basically had $150/month freed up. I'm so smart. I continue to procrastinate my income tax though (shhhh I have another month....)
Started writing a vague story about two women hiking to a portal to elfland, which is located near an abandoned train station. There are cultists called vampires living at said train station who are such a fucking delight to write (not real bloodsucking vampires tho, they are currently eating paella 🥘). It's fun and weird and I'm having a good time with it.
started listening to a podcast called No One Should Believe Me about cases involving Munchausens by Proxy, which is very interesting. the host has a sister with (alleged) MbP and genuinely wants to get her (and of course her kids) help, so it's actually a really good, compassionate take on an issue that's usually played for shock value. I have to listen to it slowly though bc it's Heavy
started knitting again! made 1 dishcloth and started a second. have decided I'm going to take these into work when I have a few done. If my boss won't buy us proper cloths then I'll pawn my knitting practice off on them lol
there is a lot of early road construction near my office since, aside from that random snowstorm, it's been a mild early spring. be glad you haven't had to listen to me rant about that lol
finally bucked up and got a duvet cover for my comforter that was lowkey falling apart at the seams. it's a good comforter aside from some light "my washer is evil" damage so I'm happy I can stuff it into a (less expensive) duvet cover instead of having to replace the whole thing
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mltrefry-ficwriter · 1 year
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hiii, hope you’re well! 💖 honestly i would read any/all of your answers to those fic writer Qs so i’m gonna be a little unhinged and send you a bunch, but feel free to just answer whichever you want!
11, 16, 41, 53, and then 75, 76, and 77 for the Run With You universe! 🥰
Oh, I'm going to answer all of your questions. I'm actually really excited to get asked this many! So thank you! This is super exciting for me.
11 - My three favorite fics right now? Ugh, I have to choose? Really? Alright, this was hard, and I even went through my Ao3 bookmarks to help me pick. In no particular order: -"All's Fair in Love and Serial Killing" by @wyvernquill -"What's in a name" by flawedamythyst -"The Sometimes Wife" by @marveliciousfanace
16 - I'm currently properly nurturing 4, though I have 6 kicking about my head when I feel like it. Because of your later questions, I'm going to admit one of them is in the Run With You verse, a Bill era rewrite with a heavier focus on Rose and Missy's friendship. 41 - Do a reread fics? Sometimes. It really depends for me. A LOT of what I read is a one and done, but there are some that stick in my head and I have to revisit. Maybe it was a scene that was so perfectly written or a plot that hit all the right notes. The three that I picked as my current favorites are actually all ones that have lingered in my head recently. 53 - How do I spend my time with fan fic. This one is really, really hard to be certain, but I'm going to guess it's more a reader. Mostly because while I write a lot, when I have a dry spell (Like now, it's been a minute since I've written) I still read a lot. 75 - What scene took the longest with the Run With You series? I'm going to say it was probably the bit in Until The End when Eleven is telling an unconcious Rose what he and Amy have been up to. I originally was going to rewrite the episodes, but so little changed it felt a bit redundent, so I had to come up with a way to make the changes work withing the verse without just repeating the actual episodes. 76 - Was there a scene that didn't make the cut in the series? YES! Because, waaaaay back when I was tempted to rewrite ALL of Twelve. There was something about reworking Moffat that left me disenchanted for a long time, and when I got back to the series five years later, I just focused on a few key bits from his time with Clara. That said, I have the start of Deep Breathe in a folder that has never seen the light of day. In fact, I even forgot it existed until I went searching to answer this question (I'm a word pack rat, I keep everything). 77 - Two favorite scenes off the top of my head: Rose and the Doctor's Wedding, and the dinner scene in the alternate reality where Rose, Donna, and Tim meet the Eighth Doctor.
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veliseraptor · 1 year
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Heya! I came across your reply about your unfinished marvel works and what your future plans might be for them as you've left the marvel fandom (which I assume that's the case). It got me thinking - what about certain fandoms or fandoms in general has cemented your decision to leave/exit/stop writing for it? For me (personally) it's Harry Potter. I simply cannot read a fic that so heavily takes and is inspired by the original canon books without this dread in my gut I feel.
I actually don't typically leave fandoms in a very dramatic or final way, generally speaking, and this is one of the reasons why I don't say "I will never come back to this fandom" or "I will never finish this project." I can say it's very unlikely, but the ending of my relationships with fandoms tend to function less like dramatic breakups and more like a drifting apart. I wouldn't say I quit the Supernatural fandom, for instance, so much as I just floated out of it into other things; same goes for the MCU, where I didn't go from "my main fandom" to "I'm never writing for this again" so much as just "there are other things now I'm more excited about."
I guess if I had to pin down the typical triggers for what causes that kind of disengagement...some of it's just a function of interest and time and proximity, some of it's about how much of a community there is for me to be actively in fandom with. (it's a little hard to maintain, for instance, the same kind of level of engagement with Doctrine of Labyrinths as for some of my other fandoms when there's just not quite as much activity there in general.)
but I think the bigger factors for me are either (1) intense alienation from fandom writ large, such that continuing to engage with the material is causing me less joy than it is stress (c.f. me and being really engaged with Silmarillion fandom; I'd still consider myself a fan but I don't really consider myself in fandom anymore) or (2) canon takes a direction that diminishes my interest/excitement about the source material (c.f. the MCU, but also Supernatural). I know some people can or even seem to enjoy doing fandom for a canon that they may actively hate, but for me there's a point at which my dislike for canon is going to outweigh the fun of engaging with it, even to rewrite or interrogate things I disagree with or dislike.
this has all been a very wordy way of saying "I don't so much leave fandoms as grow away from them, usually as a function of becoming disenchanted with either the community or the source material," which is really a very anodyne answer that's probably true of most people.
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willowser · 7 months
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not long after i followed you it inspired me to revive my dead fic blog with only one post because i deleted my last one (worst mistake of my life cause now those fics are gone to the void and ive got no idea which google docs account the originals are on) even though i dont really follow along with the bnha series anymore loll, but your writing reignited the spark for my bakugou love and i get the fic itch every so often so i just wanted to thank you for that because i had been in a no writing slog even for nonfic related things and its so nice to be writing again even if i dont think its good! its just fun and i dont worry about reblogs or likes or anything just that i had fun while writing it! its so disheartening that usually the older you get the more you stop caring about having fun and making things good or technically right which causes you not to write even though thats how you get better. so yeah thank you for reigniting my spark!
oh, friend 🥺 this message is so special to me because — i was very much in a stage like you had been ! in a no-writing slog ! and it can feel so terrible, to want to do this creative thing and have no energy or motivation to do it, to find no reason in it 🥺 i know so intimately what that feels like 🥺 and it was thanks to some wonderful writers here and this beautiful community that i found the spark to write again, too !! and so to think back on that rough time in my life and remember how it felt to find this lil bubble of ours — it means so much to me that you would associate me with helping you through that 🥺✨ what a gift !!!!
i'm so glad you're writing again and i'm so glad you're writing for YOU !!! for the fun and love of it !! i'm so happy to hear you say that !!!!! 🥺 it is so easy to get wrapped up in the numbers game here, and if you can keep yourself from it, i genuinely, genuinely urge you to do so as long as you can LOL bc you're so right !! in order to feel like your ability has approved, you have to keep at it, and it's so heartbreaking to see some of us walk away because we're disenchanted 🥺
and you bring up such a good point and i've had this discussion with my irl's many times because i hate to see the people around me that have abandoned their creativity because they "grew up" !! they left it behind because they thought they had to or they didn't dedicate the time to it !! i made the promise to myself in my early-twenties that i would never be that person and — here we are LOL
you're so sweet friend 🥺 my heart is so warm at this message 🥺 here is to all the writing that will come from your big brain that will only feed your happiness ! ✨
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dcwnthercbbithcle · 9 months
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i hope this isn't dumb to ask but what does exclusive/closed shipping exactly entail?
That’s not a dumb question at all! It always means a ton to me when you guys reach out and ask questions! It gives me a lot of insight on where I can be clearer and to explain myself! So thank you for the question!
For me, Exclusive/Closed shipping means I’m not open to accepting new ships for characters under most circumstances. They’re on the cusp of not being available for shipping, unless the person who I’m shipping with is a good friend/a longtime mutual/just generally someone I’m really comfortable with!
Now, the reasons from character to character on why I feel this way vary!
Sometimes a character is REALLY REALLY encumbered with emotional baggage. Making romance something that would need to be navigated around all the hurdles in play! Which would in turn need a lot of communication, which I would only feel comfortable doing with people I’ve known for a while and are willing to play out the journey with me. Y’know?
Other times I have a lot of feelings surrounding how often a character is sexualized and reduced down to a trope for shipping reasons, which has left me feeling pretty disenchanted towards shipping them! Like, are you looking for my character or the guy from 50 shades, y’know??
And some times I just don’t see a character being shippable under 99% of circumstances until you get me on board with your ship!
Either way, it’s just my way of saying I won’t ship straight out of the gate without some plotting/discussion/trust established ooc. But the simple and easy solution to that is just to chat with me! Shoot me a message! Send me a meme! Do the interest check! Any of the above are easy ways to start a convo with me and I’m always glad to chat people up!
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marzely · 10 months
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I was tagged by @cadetzarneki to talk about my oc’s and oh god I’m going to stick to IF oc’s because its already a long list in itself and were not going to dig into my anime/game oc’s from back in the day…..
Anyway it’s all below the read more. If you’d like to answer these about your own oc’s take this as a tag and go for it.
FAVORITE OC: This is a hard one because it's between Soile (SHOH), Valentina (Vendetta), or Freya (Disenchanted). They’re some of my favorite character designs, and they’re my more thought out character’s. If I really have to choose, I guess it would be Soile because she’s just overworked badass with a heart of gold. She went through a lot of shit but kept her head high because she grew up with so much love that she wanted to honor those who helped her be where she is now.
NEWEST OC: Echo (Infamous) is my newest oc. I stayed up one night, played Infamous, fell in love with it, and automatically went to Pinterest and started pinning clothes and tattoos. I love Echo’s design with all my heart, and I wish I knew how to draw tattoo sleeves because mine does not do her justice. A little about Echo is that she was left heartbroken by Seven and doesn’t know if she’ll ever get over him. Seven got her into music, and at first, it felt wrong to continue their dream solo she couldn’t help but feel the call of the stage.
MEANEST OC: Nova Tesla (Zombie Exodus) as a disclaimer there was a time back in the day I would just use the same few first name and just change the last name for characters. So I have a few Novas… This Nova, in particular, was a combat medic, has a child dependent, and is the leader of their survivor group. So she knows to survive and make sure her nephew gets to live a long life she has to make the hard choices. You can only be kind for so long in a zombie apocalypse.
OLDEST OC: Nova Peña (Heroes Rise), so this one is kinda an exception on the none IF oc because she’s a superhero oc I made that I than used for the Heroes Rise series. Heroes Rise was the IF that got me into IF’s. Nova was made because I love DC comics and wanted to make my own superhero’s given they have some of the most basic powers I did have a whole bunch of lore made up for them and I actually still have Pinterest boards made for them.
SOFTEST OC: Gotta be Kyra (AMR) Everything with the strikethough is spoilers for A Mage Reborn, so please check it out if you haven’t because it had me crying none stop at like 3am If you don’t care about spoilers, hopefully, it makes you want to read it. Girl was burned at the stake to save the same people who wished for her death. She holds no ill will towards them and forgave and still loves Leon even after he made the call. And she would do it all again if given the chance.
MOST ALOOF OC: Probably Freya (Disenchanted). After everything she’s gone through, she pushed herself to be more disinterested in everything and keep her emotions in check. She refuses to give anyone the reactions they seek from her. Though in the presence of Theo and Viktor and others she sees as family and friends, she's more expressive and playful.
DUMBEST OC: I’d say Salem (Attollo) shes an artist who stumbled into an entirely new word. She probably gives Operator chronic heartburn from stress from watching Salem run around making the worst decisions in existence, including the willingness to fight some of the most dangerous people in Attollo.
SMARTEST OC: I’d say it’s Valentina (Vendetta) since she set on becoming the head of the Morozov Criminal Family. She is cunning and careful. If there was a term to describe her, it would be femme fatale. She knows how to use her image to her advantage and look helpless, but it is quite the opposite.
OC’S I’D BE FRIENDS WITH: It would be Theodora (Novaturient) and Inez (Emberwood). I would get along with Theo because she is a giant nerd, and so am I, so we would have a lot to talk about. Inez is a chill person who is just trying to deal with her own bullshit just like anyone else, so i feel like she is the most “normal” I guess you could say. (As normal, you can get with someone who can manipulate minds…)
I’m so sorry this is so long. I didn’t think I would end up writing so much. Anyway, check out the IF’s my mc’s are part of they’re all great IF’s. I enjoyed looking back at some oc’s and I think I need to chill on making them……
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