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apompkwrites · 2 years

Note

Finally decided to send in a request for the black sheep event! My request contains, Draconia!Name and Riddle sharing the same desk for separate classes (ex. Draconia!Name first period, Riddle second) ,, with - Draconia!Name writing letters and leaving it at the shared desk for Riddle to pick up? Romantic if you could <3 and you can get very creative with it !!

passing notes || black sheep expansion pack

masterlist characters: riddle genre: fluff contains: not a whole lot of draconia!(name)? idk i just really liked the idea :), riddle pov summary: when a note left behind after a class turns into something more. notes: i had a lot of fun writing this :DD event: [black sheep expansion pack]

it all started with a simple note. one most likely left behind in a rush. riddle, in hindsight, was quite glad he found it. he would leave it behind with two other notes accompanying it.

one was a simple "do not touch unless first period", a warning to the rest of the students who sat in that seat.

the second was a correction to the initial note, correcting a certain aspect of the subject the writer had gotten wrong in theirs. riddle was satisfied with himself, especially if the recipient was to be a member of heartslabyul.

much to his surprise, it wasn't.

the next day, another note was left behind.

thank you! i passed my quiz because of you!

riddle didn't know what compelled him to answer this new note. normally, he would just nod in satisfaction at the thought of helping someone better their knowledge on his best subject, but that wasn't the case this time. something told him, urged him, to write back.

no need for thanks, was all he wrote, but it seemed to suffice. the next day, he was met with another note. and then he responded again. and then another note was left. and he responded again. and again. and again, and again, and again.

so that's how he ended up where he was now, continuing to exchange notes with a certain person that sat in his same seat just a single period before him.

how was your day, riddle?

the same as it always is. should he change how he writes? cater seemed to agree when he told the two third years about his new "friend".

that's good! i'm glad to hear it :} they always scribbled a cute smile beside their message, little fangs poking out from the mouth of their drawing. when is your next unbirthday party? i'd love to help one day!

"how sweet," riddle hummed to himself at the latest note. without another thought, he turned to his binder of papers and began flipping through them, letting out a soft "a-ha!" when he pulls out one of the many schedules he had laid out for his dorm.

the next one should be in the next three days. or, rather, two if you receive this invitation during your first period, was what he had written, quietly admonishing himself under his breath.

"is this too formal? should i rewrite it...?" before he could stick to a decision, his teacher ushered him and the other students out of the room, huffing on about the next period he was about to tend to.

oh well, riddle simply sighed, tucking his binder under his arm.

so the next unbirthday party is in two days, right? i'll try to make it! hopefully dorm leader draconia won't mind... i can't wait to see you in person!

riddle stifled a laugh, scooping the little note into his hands and tucking it away into his notebook.

i look forward to having you over, was what riddle left behind on the desk, a little heart scribbled in the corner only to be hurriedly erased a few moments later.

it's tomorrow~ dorm leader draconia said i was able to go, can you believe it? i'll see you soon riddle <3, riddle nearly choked on his own spit as his eyes scanned over the heart. and yes, i saw the little heart you wrote on the last note. don't be afraid to keep it there next time, okay?

"hnmg..." riddle let out a sound that he didn't even know he was capable of making.

i'm glad to hear that, was all riddle managed to write, his hand shaking as he wrote the last word. he felt his heart pound in his chest as his eyes continued to dart between his notes and the special note from his friend. yes, his “friend”. just his friend.

(of course, he only tried to convince himself of this because of the lingering influence ms. rosehearts his mother had on him.)

regardless, he could not wait for the day to finally end.

"you're restless," trey hummed in amusement, glancing over at riddle. "something's on your mind, huh?"

"don't even start, trey," riddle grumbled, earning a laugh from his vice dorm leader. and although riddle's words were sharp and snippy, he knew trey wasn't wrong.

"all hail our leader, the red sovereign himself... housewarden riddle!"

"we salute you, housewarden riddle!" despite his dorm members calling his name, riddle could only scan over the crowd in search of a not-so-familiar face.

see, he was familiar with all of his members and any guests that would be coming. all except the one he wanted to see. he knew their name and their dorm but not what they looked like.

and just when he thought they were not there, his eyes zeroed in on the one face he had never seen. a bright smile was plastered on their face and their horns were decorated with little red and white roses.

for the first time during the unbirthday party ritual's history (in riddle's era, at least), the dorm leader paused in his tracks. riddle couldn't help but stare in awe, finally matching a face with the little notes left behind on his desk. they offered a light grin, their little fangs barely peeking out from their lips.

"riddle?" trey suddenly called out, having paused a few steps in front of the redhead. despite the confused tone in his voice, the grin he shot at riddle was enough for the dorm leader to realize how much trey really knew.

"r-right..." riddle coughed into his fist, hurrying up to trey's side. the vice dorm leader merely chuckled before nodding, continuing to walk towards the table.

the ritual continued the way it always did, with riddle inspecting the decorations and embellishments and nodding in satisfaction as it was up to standard. when he announces the start of the tea party, he finds himself quickly ushering the unfamiliar face in the crowd towards him.

and as they hurry to his side, little red and white rose petals falling from their horns, riddle couldn't help but clutch the note in his pocket to ease the anxiety roaring in his heart.

allow me to court be mine? <3

taglist: @brokenncrown @help-meplz @destinationdesignation @rainys-personal-garden @kalims @sxftiebee @luxaryllis @auld-a @the-dumber-scaramouche @cherrykissesss890 @o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland fluff #twst fluff #twisted wonderland riddle #twisted wonderland riddle x reader #twst riddle #twst riddle x reader #riddle x reader #twisted wonderland riddle rosehearts #twisted wonderland riddle rosehearts x reader #twst riddle rosehearts #twst riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader

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antiloreolympus · 3 years

Text

8 Anti LO Asks

1. It doesn’t really make sense for a long term comic such as LO to have such a drastic change in the artstyle, and even more you can’t really call it an improvement when all the interesting parts of the art style are now gone and all that it is now it’s just some basic same-face and body art style with barely any backgrounds. RS is incredibly talented for illustrative artwork and it’s really a shame she’s not doing that anymore and instead has left it to her team, with leaving them very messy sketches. The artstyle in the beginning had life and glamour and now it’s just very dull and boring. That’s not an improvement

2. I genuinely can’t think of any man in LO that’s even half way decent. Poseidon maybe? Hephaestus? Those are the only two I can manage, meanwhile the rest are either Rachel purposely ruining them because of her own biases (Zeus, Apollo, Thanatos to an extent) or are “good” men who are just creeps who disrespect all the women around them and are super creepy and obsessed over a literal teenager who acts like a child (Hades, Ares, Hermee, Eros, etc). The women aren’t much better either.

3. About Perse making Hades childish: (this is no way defending him, just some speculation, and tbh I doubt that RS has thought this through haha) I wonder if he becomes a horny teenager around her because she’s a goddess of fertility? Would that have any affect on him? Doesn’t excuse his creepy ass behavior, but could explain it a bit, I guess?

4. Okay so I'll be honest I dont really see any reason to 'simp' over Any of the LO characters?

Also, not to start sh*t, but - I think part of the reason why some of the LO fandom does not like Zeus (and perhaps gives Hera more leeway - at least in terms of cheating) is because:

Mythologically Zeus is a known cheater / rapist (Io for example, or Semele)

They see Hera cheating a Zeus as okay (its not) because he's been known to cheat on her in the past / fans see Hera cheating on Zeus with Hades as 'justified revenge' for what he's (Zeus) put her through

I'll be honest I dont really see Zeus (or Hades for that matter) as good rulers because

Despite other deities (like Eros) doing 'acts of wrath' - they get away with it because they often have someone to back them up (like Aphrodite offering to sleep with Zeus to get her son out of trouble) - but the one time Persephone does something wrong (an act of wrath) - Zeus wants to give her the Prometheus treatment - mainly so he can feel like an in control king whos subjects respect him

The reason this sound so odd is because of RS writing choices. Zeus is a grade A d*ck who is willing to destroy a 'young girls promising career' because she made 1 mistake that one time. But at the same time the act of wrath is framed oddly because Demeter doesn't want her daughter to get in trouble so she covers it up (its like the equivalent of hiding a murder from the cops).

Zeus wanting to Prometheus Kore seems overly harsh because she is a Child. (Well a teenager) - so it adds to the "Zeus is a d*ck" card, because she doesnt have the life experience to "get away with" stuff like the other deities because she is young AND sheltered.

Like again, the whole concept of Human Laws applying to Gods is so confusing:

Would Zeus have been this harsh if Demeter had simply come forward in the first place about Persephone's murder rampage? Why did she blackmail / get other deities involved to cover it up? Is Zeus THAT much of a d*ck in Demeters eyes that she knows he would harshly punish a child for something "she didnt mean to do" (killed mortals based on a feeling?)

Why is there a motherf*cking trial in the first place? Do All the other deities get the right to a fair trial or is this a special case? (Like can any deity just offer to sleep with Zeus and he'll let them off the hook?). If the other deities had commited the same crime would the trial / punishment be the same or does Zeus just have a rage boner because he was lied to? If thats the case then why are the other deities taking Persephones side during the trial? (Ares I can maybe understand cause hes the God of War and stuff but everyone else is taking Perse's side because their either her personal friend or family member (Hecate, Hermes, Demeter, Hades etc).

Why are there certain laws like "Zeus cant get to Persephone because she has clemency in the underworld" but other deities - including Leto, Demeter and others (like Perse's nymph family) can just stroll into Hades house? Why is Hermes still on house arrest? Why are Hades + Persephone throwing a house party when shes on trial for scythe crimes??!!!

Why are the gods bound by such petty squabbles?

The way RS set up the governing "laws" in universe just doesnt make a whole lotta sense. Also, sorry this got ramblely.

5. Tbh i don’t think that Hades acting differently when he’s with Persephone is a bad thing, as a concept. But there are many issues with this such as the fact that Persephone is barely legal and Hades act like an actual child around her. Obviously when you’re with someone they are going to act different than they do when they are at work. The problem is that Hades essentially goes from the “cold-scary king” to a 17 year old hormonal boy when he’s with Persephone. And him making out with her in a middle of a store or them golfing with diamonds or him making out with Persephone again in front of his workplace is not exactly acceptable behaviour from a king. If Hades acts all lovey-dovey with Persephone when their at their home together it’s different, but when they’re at a public place they can’t really do that. I would say that he has to keep a status about him but from what we’ve seen all the citizens of the underworld hate him and don’t respect him at all, from yelling at him to actually fighting with him, so idk how much status there is actually attached to him

6. I swear, the majority of the “cute” HxP moments in LO just seem like a single father dealing with his hyperactive 8 year old over the supposed future intimidating rulers who Rachel is obsessed about talking and drawing their sex life. Is it really that hard to depict Persephone even acting like a smart teenager at the very least, as opposed to an airhead grade schooler? It doesn’t scream cute to me, it seems more like a father/daughter relationship. It’s just weird.

7. i mean, i have a LO oc who's persephone's brother (fertility god) between demeter and zeus. dude got thrown into tartyrus to cover up the affair and now serves cronus. he was the god of summer, and my reasoning was demeter's seasons/harvest + summer thunderstorms. wrote a whole minific i will never post about him and persephone realizing everyone around them are assholes and healing together. so the mistress-of-zeus oc isnt that weird.

8. I’m not a Zeus stan by any means, but I do find him one of the most interesting characters, and one that RS has, in her attempts to make him be the worst ever to make Hades look better, actually way more interesting and compelling than the majority of the cast. He doesn’t lie or whine to the audience he’s some good person like Hades when he’s not, he owns that he’s a dick and doesn’t bullshit the audience into thinking he’s someone he’s not. RS tries to show us he’s a “bad” king, yet we see no proof it beyond what, he wants to uphold the law P broke and doesnt kiss Hades’ butt? That’s not a bad king, it’s a good one that he doesn’t let family ties or lust cloud his judgement, unlike Hades or Hera, for example. I don’t condone his cheating either, but it’s not fair to hate him for it, but love it that Hades cheated on Minthe so he could get into a teenager’s skirt and praise Hera for sleeping with her brother in law while punishing Zeus’ mistresses because she’s being a fake “loyal” wife. Just because he’s a deeply flawed, even a bad person doesn’t make him a bad character. Hades and Hera and even Persephone are awful people who do worse than Zeus, yet they’re loved and praised for it, all while being written with the depth of a puddle.

#anti lo #anti lore olympus #lore olympus critical #lo critical

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cummingforkylo · 3 years

Text

The Prince Of Alderaan Chapter II

Chapter Summary: Lady Whistledown’s latest papers leaves you quite indignant and unsure of your next steps. Hyde Park is beautiful at this time of year but when you venture out with your Mama, you have anything but flowers in mind.

Chapter One | Read On AO3 | Send me a Ko-fi

Rating: Explicit...eventually

Word Count: 5,309

Warning: None as of now

Pairing: Kylo Ren x reader

Notes: Okay, Okay, I KNOW if you’ve seen Bridgerton you know that I pretty much took this one key element from the storyline but I promise i’m going to do it differently.This story is inspired by the netflix show/book series Bridgerton. It’s kind of a crossover because I do use some themes and characters from the show but it is mostly a Kylo x Reader fic. Remember: historical accuracy is not the goal!<3

Dearest Lords and Ladies of London,

After the first event of the season last night I’m sure we are all wondering what scandal or excitement awaits our hungry appetite! This writer has heard from her sources that while the ball seemed to be laden with the typical talk(Miss Philippa Featherington danced with no one, Lady Browning indulged far too much in champagne and had to be removed from the party by her son, Lord Linfield was rejected by countless ladies for a dance…despite his sizable fortune-perhaps it is the lingering oder of cabbages and onions that accompanies him wherever he goes) there was one bit of excitement that stood far above the other more typical anecdotes. The most scandalous young lady of this season so far, Miss Huntington, seems to have caught the eye of the most coveted (and reluctant) bachelor of the season, the Prince of Alderaan.

Prince Kylo Ren of Alderaan spent much of the evening avoiding the dance floor and was seen to scurry away from many very suitable young ladies including Miss Bridgerton-Queen Charlotte’s choice of the season. While he resisted strongly(and some might even have called his actions rude) most of the young ladies he encountered he seemed to be unable to keep himself away from Miss Huntington. Miss Huntington, still fresh off of her family’s embarrassing gambling scandal last year did not do herself any favors at the Danbury Ball. She danced with a number of men who would have been perfectly adequate for her, but she seemed to have had nothing but contempt for them. Showing no more interest in them then a horse shows a fly and this mare perhaps should not be brushing flies away too quickly, no matter how much their buzz annoys her.

But perhaps the Prince sees something in Miss Huntington that society as a whole does not, because after ignoring the Queen’s choice of the season all night, the Prince and Miss Huntington came together for, by all accounts, a most heated dance. I will be interested to see if Miss Huntington has a royal caller today and what that could mean for her prospects later on. Perhaps the Queen has chosen the wrong girl for the diamond of the season this year, perhaps we have all put our eggs in the wrong basket. But—perhaps not. Only time(and this writer) will reveal.

Yours most sincerely,

Lady Whistledown

“Contempt?” You gasped as you paced back and forth in front of the piano in your sitting room. Mama was sitting in front of a table holding the latest Lady Whistledown, a quickly cooling cup of tea completely forgotten sat on the table in front of her. “I didn’t show any of those men contempt! I was perfectly polite, Mama!” You complained. You were affronted to hear what that wretched Whistledown had written of you, written of you and the Prince.

“I understand that, but the members of the ton might not now that they’ve read this.” Mama sighed. Nerves clenched at your stomach, how could your status seemed to have gotten lower since the Danbury Ball? “Not all of what she wrote of you was terrible, dearest.” Mama said, trying to perk up. She set the paper down next to her tea on the table. “Don’t you agree, Ella?” she continued, looking to your lady’s maid who stood nearby.

“Oh, yes, not all of it was-“

“She compared me to a horse.” You said, turning around to face the two of them, frustration and irritation plain on your face. Ella’s face dropped and she nodded, looking away. “Sorry, Ella. I do not mean to take my own frustrations out on you.” You said.

“She did mention the Prince being taken with you-“

“Yes, what was the word she used to describe our dance?” You asked, “Oh yes, heated. That’s a scandalous word if ever I’ve heard one.” You said. You strode over to the table and picked up the copy of Lady Whistledown Society Papers that now sat on the table beside your Mama. You found yourself wanting to rip it into a million pieces, that of course would not be a proper display, even just in front of your mother and lady’s maid.

Your Mama reached out and took your hand, running her thumb along the backside of it in a comforting way that only a Mama knew how to do. You looked down at her and found yourself for what felt like the millionth time, wishing things were different. Wishing things had not exploded for your family last year. How much easier would life currently be if your father had not indebted himself to so many people, not made a mockery of your lives? You tried to brush away the thought but anger pulsed through you. A most unlady-like feeling, anger. It caused you to think of actions you wanted to take but never could, words you wanted to speak but never would allow yourself to. It made you long even more for a different world wherein you could do and say those things. And longing wasn’t ladylike either.

“Dearest, she also compared you to Daphne Bridgerton and said the Queen herself may have been wrong in her choice. That the whole ton might have been wrong in thinking the diamond of the season was Miss Bridgerton, and she means that it could be you.” As your Mama spoke a whole knew vista of opportunities, and chances seemed to open up before you. You could, no, you had to prove this true. That you were more eligible, more likable and just…more than anyone else. The Prince could call on you and he could court you, and ask for your hand and marry you. Then all this worry, all this anger and pain and scandal would be for naught. It would be forgotten about because you will have made the match of the season. Even if he was rude, cruel and you became irritated at the mere memory of his mocking voice, you would still become a Princess when you married him and that was exactly what your family needed. Yes, that was the goal and you were heartened by it.

“My guess is you will have quite a lot of callers today, suitors ready to vy for your hand.” Mama said and you smiled because you really did agree with her.

Your mood dissolved as the day went on, you spent the entire day in the sitting room awaiting on callers. You paced, and no one called. You sat on the sofa and tried to read, and no one called. You played piano and no flowers or gifts arrived. You talked to Ella about other things to try and distract yourself and no one called. You picked out fabric for your next dress from the swatches the Modiste had sent and no one called. Not one suitor. You had been so convinced that the Prince would call, or at least send flowers that in the afternoon when there was a knock at the sitting room door you were sure it was the Butler there to tell you that he was there but instead the door opened and your eldest brother walked in with his wife and your niece and nephew close behind. Matthew was jovial as he greeted you and your Mama,

“Did you read Lady Whistledown today? That woman has a knack for writing compelling stories does she not?” He asked as he grabbed a biscuit and sank down at the table. His wife, Rose sat down next to you at the piano as the children ran about already causing havoc. You rolled your eyes, had they not read the same thing this morning? Why would he think it compelling?

“She compared me to a horse, Matthew.” You found yourself saying once again, turning to look at your elder brother who attempted and failed to hide a smile.

“I told him not to bring up Lady Whistledown.” Rose sighed, reaching over to take your hand in the sweet and gentle way that she did.

“Ella, can you call down to the kitchens for more tea, please?” Mama said, looking to Ella who said,

“Of course, Ma’am.” She curtsied and left them. Matthew watched her go from the room, and leaned back against his chair.

“She may have made a few brash statements, my dear sister but she also reminded everyone that their choice of Daphne Bridgerton for the diamond of the season could be false and it could be you.” Matthew said, delicately selecting another biscuit from the tray in front of him.

“That is precisely what I pointed out out to your sister earlier.” Your mama said approvingly glancing from Matthew to you over her teacup.

“That was before absolutely no suitors came to call this morning,” You reminded your mother, irritation coloring your voice once again.

Your nephew sped past the table his father was at, grabbing a biscuit as he went.

“Simon, where on earth are your manners?” Rose asked. Simon stuck his tongue out at his mother and continued his game of chasing his sister around the couch with the biscuit in his mouth.

“You had no suitors this morning? None at all?” Matthew asked, and the shock in his voice made you want to shrivel up and die. It was unfair, unfair that Matthew was there to bare witness to your suffering, unfair that he should be here with his happy wife and children watching you fail at your only duty in life. Your mama shook her head to answer for you because you were looking anywhere but at your elder brother. Rose squeezed your hand and your chest flooded with sudden emotion. The tiniest gesture made you feel as though you were not alone. Had she once felt like this? Had she too wondered if anyone would want her? Had she wondered if she would amount to anything more than the hated title of ‘spinster’? No, Matthew had been there from the start, he had been interested and active in seeking her out.

Matthew was frowning as if in thought, “Does father know?” he asked, trying now to hide some of his shock by asking pointless questions. Of course Father didn’t know, Father wasn’t home, how would he know? Mama answered in a more polite fashion than you would have,

“Not yet,” She said.

“Hm. Well. There is still time.” He said shot you a quick smile, perhaps you weren’t entirely useless. Your mood did not improve, even when you retreated to your room to get dressed for walking in Hyde park. You knew you could not get discouraged. You knew you had to prove yourself as the best. Lady Whistledown might have helped along the No Suitors Situation but she herself had also said you could be the rightful Diamond of the Season and not Daphne Bridgerton. Everyone had already said this to you today and now you had to remind yourself. You had to convince yourself because it would take that confidence to pull it off. As Ella helped you dress you found your mind floating back to the night before, at the Danbury Ball and how flat every dance had felt, every look between you and a man had had no significance, every touch was dull and expected. It had all been nothing. All except one—the Prince. The rude, cruel, infuriating Prince Ren who had called you improper, even though he had been the one staring at you. Kylo Ren, who had…touched your skin. Your heart pounded at the mere memory of his fingers grazing against your back. It made you ashamed but not nearly as much as it should have, because it also was the only memory from the Danbury Ball that exhilarated you. He had sought you out, and you alone, it had to have meant something. And yet when he danced with you it seemed as though all he wanted from it was to humiliate you. You wished it wasn’t possible. You wished it hadn’t worked. And you very much wished you still weren’t thinking about it.

***

Your thoughts of Prince Kylo Ren didn’t abate when you left your house for the short carriage ride to Hyde Park. You were still thinking about him as you strolled along the walking paths with your Mama and your Lady’s maids. You were trying to work out what exactly he had meant by his behavior, why choose you to be the only young lady he danced with and then be nothing but rude to you? Perhaps he did not think himself rude? Perhaps he just spoke his mind very bluntly. You considered this as the best option for a while, barely noticing where your feet were carrying you as you walked alongside your Mama. But a memory resurfaced from that night, that made it very clear to you that this could not be the case. It was the memory of the smirk that seemed to hang even in his voice as he said, “You stared at me, my lady.” Your insides twisted at it. That and the way his eyes burned. He knew precisely what he was doing, he knew he was trying to humiliate you, trying to make you feel as if you had done something wrong. “How improper,” those words sent a spark through your body, something akin to anger and embarrassment. His voice had been dark and intense, your mind was absorbed in it…accompanied with the feeling of his gloved fingers against the bare skin of your back. It wasn’t the correct place for him to place his hand while leading a dance, it was slightly too high. Yet, he had done it. Accidentally? It must have been. He just had not been used to dancing with someone quite that much shorter than him, perhaps. Those fingers blazed through your memory, leaving little room for anything else in your brain. You could imagine his fingers there again as you looked out across the Serpentine River, which was little more than a shallow man-made pond that cut through this section of Hyde Park.

Your mind was so wrapped up in the feeling of those fingers, and the burn in his eyes that it took you far too long to notice you were staring directly at the real thing. It took your mother taking your arm and hissing in your ear,

“Staring at the Prince is not very lady-like.” She squeezed your arm and you blinked. She, of course, was right. Across the lake, the prince was standing arm in arm with the Queen Regent of Alderaan, his mother. Someone he had not been seen with years. As you took him in you realized he had not noticed you yet, you should look away, being caught staring at him yet again would surely end in more humiliation. He paused in his walk with his mother, his expression was irritated, lips tight, body stiff and upright as she spoke to him. His eyes flicked up and you were very suddenly caught in his gaze. Caught wasn’t quite the right word to describe it, trapped was probably more accurate. A shiver ran up your spine, it was that same blazing glance, a whisper of the memory of a hand on your skin. You watched as humor suddenly joined the irritation on his face, recoloring it. He turned to look at his mother, spoke and then pulled his arm away from her. He began to walk to the foot bridge nearby. She called something after him but he ignored her, she turned to her Lady’s maid who was standing nearby but your eyes were following his Grace as he walked over the bridge.

“The Prince is headed in this direction,” Mama hissed to you quite unnecessarily. You were about to hiss back that you knew but you started to feel not only his eyes on you, but many eyes on you. Everyone who had gone for a late afternoon stroll through Hyde Park seemed to be looking at you. All because Prince Kylo was stepping off the foot bridge and striding over towards you. You found yourself having the insane desire to run away. Perhaps it was because you couldn’t face him after he had caught you staring, or perhaps it was because of your disastrous dance at the Danbury Ball…or perhaps it was because of the persistent and scorching thoughts of his hand in yours, his fingers on your back. You wanted to hide from all of that and hide from his gaze but he walked up to you a moment later and inclined his head respectfully,

“Miss Huntington,” He said and then he turned slightly towards your Mama. “Lady Huntington,” He said.

“Your Grace,” Your Mama said, dropping to a curtsey. When you finally remembered how to move, and curtsied as well.

“Your Grace,” You mimicked your mother.

“What a pleasant thing, to meet you here.” Mama said, smiling almost adoringly up at Kylo. “Were you escorting your mother?” She asked. Something shifted slightly in his face, the subtle shift was enough to make his face go from mildly polite to the beginnings of irritation.

“Yes.” He said. “But I happened to see Miss Huntington across the Serpentine and thought she looked as though she could use a companion this afternoon.” He said. He offered his arm to you. You didn’t move. You were unsure if you should take it, unsure if you even wanted to take it. You knew you should and something inside of you did long for it, longed for his gloved hand in yours so that you could again revel in the memory of it against your bare back. Shock swept through you at your own thoughts, and with that shock was the realization that the prince had his arm held out to you still, “Would you care to walk with me, Miss Huntington?” He asked. You took the proffered arm as gracefully as you could manage while you still recovered from your own thoughts and the longing that still drove you to consider his hand at such length.

“Yes, of course, Your Grace.” You said. You watched him give your mother a tight smile and nod, before he turned you away form her and began walking.

It was quiet except for the sound of your steps as you walked along the Serpentine, you listened to his heavy footfalls and your lighter ones keeping pace. Was he going to mention the rude things he had said when you had last spoke? Should you bring them up? You were about to ask him if he planned on insulting you again on your walk when he spoke,

“I thought you might have learned your lesson about staring the last time we met.” He spoke casually as though he wasn’t attempting to wound your pride. “That does not seem to be the case.” He said. You looked about, wondering if anyone was within earshot, but no, Mama and her Lady’s maid were the closest people to the both of you and she was at least twenty yards back.

“First of all, Your Grace, I did not realize I was looking at you this afternoon.” You said, turning to look up at him. He was so much bigger than you that it felt as though you had to lean back to see his face. “Secondly, I maintain that the last time we met, I was only looking at you because I had caught you looking at me.” You insisted, and again the memory of that evening filtered into your head. The way you had felt his eyes upon you and how you looked back with curiosity.

“Hm.” Was his answer, and for a long moment it seemed as though he was going to leave it at that, then he spoke with no humor in his voice, “You presume to know better than I?” He asked. Your body felt tight and if you had not been holding on to his arm, your hands would have been shaking. Was it just because he was a prince that he was this intimidating or was it more? No, it had to be more, there was something about him that screamed at you to be nervous, to be afraid. You had to take a deep breath before you spoke to him again,

“I presume to know when I am being looked at across a ballroom, Your Grace.” You said, turning your face away from him so you looked forward at the path in front of you instead.

“Do you know so acutely what that feels like?” He asked, you felt his eyes on you again, that intense gaze that had burned into your across the ballroom at the Danbury estate. He was mocking you again, because he knew you did not know what it felt like. You swallowed and your eyes flicked up to him and then away again as you tried to recover.

“Perhaps not, but I knew I could sense your gaze.” You insisted.

“Perhaps I could sense yours.” He said.

“That’s impossible because I was not looking at you yet.” Your voice was colored with anger now and you wished you could take back the words, your frustration only seemed to spur him on.

“I think you might have been.”

“I was not.”

“Says who?”

“Me.” You almost ripped your arm away from him but you knew deep down that you could not. Not only was it impossible because you knew it would cause a scandalous scene but you could not because your body would not allow you to pull away from him. It felt like you were glued to his side.

“You seem unreliable to me,” His voice was humorless, irritated at your refusal to accept his version of events. You walked in silence next to him, not wanting to give him more fuel to flame his suspicions that you were an unreliable source, or a hot tempered girl. “Did you have many callers this morning?” You were so surprised by the question that you stopped walking, or you tried to because with your arm in his he simply towed you along with him.

“Excuse me?” You asked, breathless. It wasn’t an entirely unreasonable question for a friend to ask but you would not consider him a friend or even a potential suitor at this point. He had made it quite clear that he thought of you as nothing but an improper, unreliable, little girl.

“Lady Whistledown wrote that you might surprise everyone by making the match of the season,” He explained as he continued to tow you along with him. You turned your head to gaze up at him again, he was shocking in so many ways. Not only did he follow no real social protocols, but he spoke his mind and was too handsome to be reasonable. You wished you did not think it true, but as you looked at him you couldn’t help but notice again every pleasant thing about his face. Full lips, dark eyes with their fire-gaze, straight nose, and skin that was kissed with beauty spots in all sorts of delicate places. You blinked a few times, trying to beat back all the feelings that rose with appreciating his beauty,

“You read Lady Whistledown?” You asked, hating how stupid you sounded.

“Doesn’t everyone?” he asked. Your brow knit, you didn’t like being reminded of that fact. It must have shown on your face because he raised an eyebrow and his lip twitched towards a sardonic smirk, “I thought you would appreciate most of the things she wrote of you, Miss Huntington.” He observed. The idea that you would appreciate the things she wrote of you, of your family irritated you more than anything else he could have said. You let out a long, slow breath, trying to not let the anger towards Lady Whistledown effect the way you spoke to him. You were about to answer when he continued, cutting you off yet again, “You should appreciate that she’s willing to speak of you at all,” The frank way he put that boiled your blood and again you found yourself wanting to rip from his arm and march off but your body betrayed you once again and you remained stuck next to him.

“She…I can’t believe- that woman…she compared me to a HORSE!” You exclaimed, your voice dripping with contempt as you tried to not speak too loudly. Kylo frowned in thought a moment,

“I had not recalled that.” He said easily ignoring your fuming. “So, did you have callers this morning?” he asked again. You felt deflated, you had been so angry only seconds before and it was like it had been a soap bubble that he had burst. You swallowed and forced your eyes down, away from him. You felt your cheeks burn and you hoped your embarrassment didn’t show too much,

“No.” You said in the most dignified voice you could manage, lifting your chin. You weren’t sure why you were telling him the truth, but lying about it made it seem more shameful.

“No?” He confirmed, sounding surprised.

“No.” You said again, “No callers, no flowers, nothing.” He had walked you down the Serpentine to the next footbridge and now you were beginning to cross it. As you reached the middle of the bridge he stopped and looked down towards the water, you paused and stood on your tiptoes to look over the railing on the bridge as well, there was nothing but shallow dirty water below. Nothing of interest, but it was a good way to avoid his gaze.

“That surprises me. You danced with others at the Danbury ball I presume?” He asked.

“Yes,” You finally did look back towards him and again were struck by his handsome face. Your heart started to thrum faster in your chest. “I did think that perhaps you would call,” You admitted in a rush. The silence that fell seemed like the longest silence in your life. You wished you had not said anything. The words hung in the air and you wished they were physical so you could grab them and press them back inside of you, into your chest where he could no longer know them.

“Why would I call on you?” It was the emphasis on ‘you’ that hurt more than the sentiment itself. You let out the breath you had been holding and tried to replace the hurt with the frustration you had felt towards him earlier.

“I was the only young lady you danced with at the Ball,” You said, “And now you’re standing here, walking with me and asking if I had any callers. Forgive me, for thinking that might mean some form of interest, Your Grace.” You said.

“I am not interested, Miss Huntington.” He said so easily that you felt that same hurt as before. Why was he here then? Why was he walking with you now when you could have been walking with someone who was truly interested. Perhaps it was rude but at the moment you didn’t care,

“Why are you here then?” You demanded, you were finally able to pull your arm away from him now. “If you want so little to do with me, why walk with me?” You placed both hands on the railing of the bridge and turned fully towards the water once again. You tried to even your breathing, it was unbecoming to be gasping for breath even if it did feel like you had been kicked in the stomach.

“To irritate my mother,” He answered. Now it was easy to replace the hurt with anger, he was using you for his familial issues and it was at the expense of the rest of your life. How were you to have any suitors if he took up all your time with stupid walks that were only to his benefit.

You turned slowly towards him, feeling like anger was swelling up inside of you like the soap bubble from before, only you doubted it would be as easy to burst this time.

“To irritate your mother?” You asked, your voice dangerous and quiet. He was unapologetic. “How dare you? You think just because you’re some…some Prince that you can use me however you would like for your petty problems with your mother?” You gasped out, you were shaking now. Your whole body was responding to the indignity of what he was doing to you. His face darkened slightly and he stepped towards you, towering above you. Anyone watching might have mistaken this for something romantic if it hadn’t been for the loathing that was apparent on your face.

“You speak to a Prince like this?” he growled.

“When this Prince has acted anything but gentlemanly and has insulted me repeatedly-“

“Even when what I’m doing will help you in the long run as well?” He asked, his voice lowering even more.

“-by blatantly disrespecting me and my—what?” You pulled up short when he asked you that. “How on earth could this help me?” You paused, and then added with as much sarcasm as you could muster, “Your Grace.”

“Have you not noticed how many men have been watching you since I took your arm for this walk?” He hissed, leaning down closer to you. You could smell him now, and his scent with the overwhelming power of that dark gaze was enough to make you lose your breath for a moment.

“I-What?” You asked again, hurriedly looking around towards the other groups of people in the park.

“Don’t look now, stupid girl.” He growled. “Yes, my interest in you has piqued the interest of quite a few other men. You need suitors. I need my mother to stop pushing for me to marry…and I also need some peace from the idiotic Mama’s who push their daughters on me at every event I attend.” He said.

“I…I don’t understand.” You said softly, but you were beginning to, you remembered the way you had felt eyes on you when he had first come over to you. It hadn’t just been the eyes of gossiping old ladies, no, it had been the watchful daresay jealous eyes of men. He was proposing something to you, not something you would have thought of…but something almost as helpful.

“If you and I are seen together…seen as an item. Seen as if we were courting, you would become the most appealing girl in the ton. You would also become a challenge and men love nothing more than a challenge.” He said.

“And you…”

“Well, I would get exactly what I want as well-“ His eyes flicked to the other side of the river and down back where they had come where his mother was still walking with her Lady’s maid. You felt as though your heart would beat out of your chest, if he was right, if this worked it could very well get you a match by the end of the season.

“Do you think it would work?” You asked.

“If Lady Whistledown believes it. The whole ton will follow.” He said. “You just need to stop making scene of us in public.” He said. “Now take my arm again,” He instructed. “And walk back with me.”

You did as he said, hoping against hope he was right. He had to be right, your future was relying on it. You had to maintain that you were courting, you had to maintain it realistically and you had to do it while not thinking too much about his hand grazing your skin or the way his fire-gaze scorched your insides, burning excitement into your veins.

#kylo ren #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo ren reader insert #ben solo #kylo ren au #regency!kylo #fanfic #writing #kylo ren smut #fanfic: tpoa

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gingermintpepper · 3 years

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After thinking it over for a bit, I've decided that I might as well do a proper underrated 3DS game rec list. I'm a bit of an ATLUS junkie and that's gonna be pretty disgustingly apparent in this list, but it's not my fault that they released hit after hit and all of them were duly ignored.

Due to tumblr's 10 image limit (and my struggle to keep motivated to do one thing for more than three hours) I'm definitely gonna have to break this up into parts and I'm fairly certain one of these lists is just gonna be MegaTen games lmao but I'd like to let people know about these excellent titles and see if I can't at least get people interested in them so they can get more traction.

So, without further ado:

Some 3DS Games that were criminally slept on (part 1)

Monster Hunter Stories

God, where do I begin with this game. Well, the basics: It's a JRPG spinoff title of the now widely successful and popular Monster Hunter series featuring a different take on interacting with the varied and intricate monsters populating the world: Riders.

Yep, instead of hunting the beasties, you play as a young rider who's completed their intiation ritual and can now bond with 'Monsties' as they've cutely labelled the usually ferocious monsters of the wilds. The great thing is that you still fight Monsters--tons of them in fact but this isn't a paid review and in my humble opinion, the most impressive thing about this game is the visual style. The landscapes, the armour, the way they redesigned and 3DS-ified the classically hyper realistic and monstrous beasts to not only be absolutely adorable but still capable of being intimidating when the time calls for it, the stellar animation of special moves and combination attacks--it's delicious, nutritious, stupendous, I can and will consume it like it's part of my recommended caloric intake.

It's very akin to Pokemon in the way its basic gameplay premise is set up, however, instead of catching--or even indeed befriending--the Monsties in the game, you rummage through their nests and steal their eggs, later hatching them and getting yourself a brand new lightly kidnapped monster pal!

Other general things about the game:

Pros:

The armour and weapon sets for both male and female characters slap along with the general character customisation options. They're incredibly diverse (though limited in body type) and you can switch around traits and features whenever you want from your house.

The POGS--these porkers are everywhere and they serve as tiny little achievements for exploring every odd and end of the world. Also they have little outfits. They're so cute. 🥺🥺

You can actually ride the Monsties. All of em. Or, at least the ones that you have available to be your buddies. They all have exploration skills and traits that not only make exploring much more interesting but encourage you to swap out your active Monstie and play around with your options a bit.

Y'all breeding Monsties is complicated and I live for just how intense and ridiculous you can get with optimal builds for these things.

The story is really competently put together! The characters, character designs and even the internal conflict with your starting trio of characters is really compelling along with the mystery of the blight that's infecting Monsters across the world. It's not anything worth awards but it's compelling and it makes you care about the characters if that's what you're in the market for.

Amazing sound design, expansive world, everything about the presentation of this game oozes that Monster Hunter charm even if the art is cutesier than usual. You'll never get bored of its stellar visual presentation!

Available for around twenty quid on the Google Play store, so if you want, you could actually get the full game on your smartphone or tablet. Note though that it would be a battery nuker.

Cons:

If you're on a regular 3DS, frame rate drops are a given. This game kinda pushes the visual capabilities of the 3DS to its absolute limit--a lot like Okamiden did back on the DS.

One save file :( It's pretty much for the same reason as above but still.

If you're playing as the girl, you can't get male armour and vice versa. Since there's only one save file, you'll never be able to have all of the armour sets in a single playthrough and that's criminal because both of the sets for the genders are absolutely breath-taking, thank you.

I 👏can't 👏make👏my👏 own 👏Palico👏

Multi-player for this game is pretty dead seeing as it's almost five years old by now and never got much press or traction. Usually this wouldn't be an issue - this game is 99% singleplayer and you don't really need to fuss about with multi-player to have fun, but if you want to collect all the Monsties, you'll need it since the only way to get Glavenus is through pvp achievements. :/

Final thoughts: Play it if you find yourself getting tired or disappointed with 3DS Pokemon games but still want something that feels as fantastical as Pokemon. It outshines the 3DS Pokemon games at every turn and I will never be over just how thoughtfully put together and fully realised these games are. Of course, if you've ever played Monster Hunter, then you know just how intensive these games are with the lore, biology, cultures and world of their Monsters but seeing that translated into JRPG format was just very sobering and it's a game that, to this day, continues to awe me with just how much love and attention went into it.

Last note: If you're still unsure about it, there's a demo available on the e-shop of the 3DS that allows you to play through the entire initial area of the game. Your data does carry through to the full release and to give you an idea of how much I've been able to squeeze out of it - my playtime for that demo is currently sitting at 22 hours. Make sure to get a hold of that Cyan-Kut-Ku!

7th Dragon III Code: VFD

The title may sound intimidating but the premise is not! A mysterious disease called Dragon Sickness spread by the Dragonsbane flowers that have cropped up all around the world. You and your team are recruited by the Nodens game company after you display extraordinary prowess in their hit virtual reality game 7th Encount. As you go through the adventure, you are tasked with finding out the truth behind the Dragon Sickness and asked to stop both it and the Dragons that are destroying the world.

This game is fun. It's another turn-based JRPG however, in this game you create all of your characters yourself from the myriad of classes available to you from the jump. Different classes of course have very different specialisations - Samurai focus on high powered cutting damage with their swords, Duelists are summoners who can influence the element of the battlefield as well as summon monsters from each element, Agents can hack into your enemies and inflict a barrage of nasty ailments, just to name a few - and you are given three teams of three characters each to experiment with different team comps and find the balance that works for you. There's also a wide variety of Dragons to hunt and kill in the game, which directly affects how infected your world is with the Dragon Sickness causing Dragonsbane. Along the way you will also come into contact with many interesting characters, concepts and confrontations that will make the task of saving the world all the more imperative.

Pros

1. The character creator and differing classes give way for tons of experimenting and playing around with your own unique approach to combat and carrying out your missions. Granted, 'character creation' is generous, it's little more than palatte swaps but the classes are really where VFD shines. Eight main classes may not sound like a lot, but the expaniveness of the character skills, their synergy with their fellow classes and the uniqueness of some of the classes in and of itself allows for so much flexibility and creativity in approaches to even tougher bosses. It also encourages the switching about of your party members to really finagle with the options available to you.

2. God this game is pretty. The locations, the character art, the creature design - all of it is gorgeous and this game capitalises on every bit of the 3DS's presentation limitations as it can.

3. You can romance anything and everyone - yes, you can even be gay/lesbian/poly in this game. In fact, one of the main characters - Julietta - is gnc and he's a constant source of joy as well one of my personal favourite characters, right behind Yuma.

4. Exploration is very very forgiving as the game has healing spots and teleport nodes all over the world to allow for quick, seamless travel between quest points without feeling like anything is too much of a hassle. There are also special enemies that allow for quick grinding as well as quick farming of money. In general, the game does a really good job of making sure that the grind is never unbearable or inconsiderate of your time.

Cons:

1. This is the fourth game in a series the West has never seen any other title for, and from the looks of it, will probably never see any other titles for. Because of that, there are some elements that may seem confusing or revelations in the plot that may seem to come out of nowhere.

2. While the visuals are great, the OST of this one is pretty short making for a lot of reused soundtracks that can get really annoying if you're like me and need your audio to be interesting or consistent so it doesn't distract you too much.

3. This one isn't really a con but it is divisive: This game gets pretty difficult at times. A few of the main dragon enemies including and especially the final boss can give you a serious run for your money in the annoy-o-meter in terms of the kind of absolute JRPG fuckery they can pull out of their magic bag of bullshit movesets and while I generally enjoy that kind of thing, I know it's not for everyone. Most regular combat shouldn't be too tricky once you have a team comp that works well together but you also need to pay attention since the same team that carries you to victory one time might be worth beans against another dragon.

Final thoughts: This is... a really good game. Interesting story, really interesting characters, pretty world and a battle system that really makes you sit down and think. There's also a demo for this available in the e-shop and while your data doesn't carry over - you do receive multiple perks for carrying over your demo data including some exclusive items that, while not game breaking, do help a ton in the early stages of the game.

This isn't a final list by any stretch of the word; I only have the energy to do these two right now, but the next games up for coverage are Ever Oasis and Stella Glow! If you're interested in my full plan of games I want to cover here then my current lineup includes: Theatrhythm: Curtain Call, Project Mirai: Deluxe, Culdecept Revolt, Alliance Alive, Radiant Historia: Perfect Chronology, Etrian Odyssey V, Devil Survivor 2: Record Breaker and Shin Megami Tensei IV: Apocalypse.

Finally, if anyone has played any of the games I mention, cover or plan to cover PLEASE REACH OUT TO ME, I AM SO LONELY IN MY FORTRESS OF SAND. On a serious note, I'd love to hear what other people who've played these games think!

Thanks for reading,

-Ginger

PS: @feralpeacock Because a million years ago, on my first underrated games post, you asked that I remember you. :D

#ginger rambles #ginger talks about video games #monster hunter stories #monster hunter #code dragon iii vfd #video games #3ds #underrated games #These take so much energy to make holy shit #There are so many more amazing 3ds games I could talk about #But I legit just don't have the braincells for #Also I know Apocalypse probably has the biggest audience that played it out of all the games listed #But it's criminally underrated because it was different #So it's probably going to get it's own little review thing #Yeehaw

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outbythehighwind · 4 years

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Tifa’s Fighting Style

One of the things that impressed me most about FF7R is Tifa Lockhart’s combat. Her mechanics were dazzling. Her combos left me awed. Her style was so realistic, but... what was it? Naturally, I did some digging, and happened to stumble across a blog where most of the work had already been done. So this post is courtesy of Flowerslightning, with thoughts and elaboration on my part. THANKS AND CREDIT TO THIS WONDERFULLY INSIGHTFUL BLOGGER (do check out her tumblr for more fantastic content).

First, let’s note that Tifa’s combat design is very much in the field of fighting games. To some degree at least, developers take inspiration from real-life arts. The style of Tekken’s Lei Wulong, for instance, is based on the Drunken First. Street Fighter’s Chun Li uses the model of Chinese Kenpo.

The FFVII devs - to my knowledge - have revealed nothing on Tifa’s inspired martial arts background. She adopted the monk style (the fisticuffs of FF-verse) from a traveler named Zangan. That’s all we know. She trained (obviously very hard) as his pupil for the 2 years between Cloud leaving Nibelheim and Sephiroth burning the town. Zangan then brought her to Midgar and continued his travels. The only path for discerning real-arts inspiration is through observing Tifa’s fights - though even such attempt is limited. Her style is not as straightforward as Lei’s or Chun Li’s. She seems to employ a mix of martial arts, specializing in the offense and using speed and dexterity to her advantage.

Here are the main styles that Flowerslightning deduced, supported by some of Tifa’s abilities.

1. Muay Thai [demonstrated by Somersault].

This is the known as the “Art of Eight Limbs” and is commonly referred to as “Thai boxing”. It differs from traditional kickboxing (which has its roots in Japan) most notably in being an 8-point instead of 4-point striking system. In other words, Muay Thai employs elbow and shin strikes in addition to kicks and punches. Tifa’s kicks, I would say, are actually more akin to kickboxing, for Muay Thai places emphasis on heavy kicks involving the shin bone. Yet her acrobatic style is very akin to the latter.

In addition to the key boxing techniques of both the Thai and Japanese art, Tifa’s elbow maneuvers provide further evidence for the former. This is most evident during her fight with Loz, where she uses her elbows for offense and defense. One could say she expanded her Thai-based skills during in the 2 years that followed saving the world.

Running a new bar and raising two under-10-year-olds would have left at least a... smidgen of free time, right?

2. Muay Thai [demonstrated by Refocus].

Some may suggest this move of Tifa’s is a Taekwondo technique (we’ll get to that lovable sport soon, don’t you worry), but I agree with Flowerslightning in that her jumping style is more Muay Thai. Almost all Muay Thai techniques use movement of the entire body, rotating the hip with each kick, punch, elbow and block. This to me is the obvious discerning factor. Tifa exquisitely throws her whole body into the majority of her combos and limit breaks, ground and aerial alike. Specifically through that neat hip rotation. Refocus is but one example of many.

PS. Don’t you just love her boots? The gloves are really something but, those red boots... Just look at them.

3. Taekwondo [shown in Overpower].

Literally the “Way of the Hand and Foot”, this is a Korean martial art set apart by its emphasis on kicks. Head-height kicks, jump spin kicks, swift kicks, the list goes on. (But of course, there’s plenty of hand blocking and take-downs too.) Did you know that Taekwondo is part of South Korea’s military training program as well as their national sport? Its skillset is heavy in self-defense.

Tifa is mostly an offensive attacker (and wow, do her strikes deal devastating damage). Yet her aerial maneuvers and acrobatic footwork certainly have elements of Taekwondo. What makes the Taekwondo kick-style unique is its elaborate, advanced forms. Xtreme 720s, for instance, are underpinned by precise technical soundness and accuracy.

Yes, these are literal 720° mid-air turns with a SERIES of kicks timed in utmost precision. They require extraordinary strength. Something Tifa deceptively pulls off with ease, no?

4. Hēi-Hǔ-Quán [displayed in Starshower].

Flowerslightning deduces this ATB ability to be a Boxing combo. Though to me it looks more like Hēi-Hǔ-Quán (lit. ‘Black Tiger Fist’, a Shaolin striking art from China). Watch her hands closely: the thumbs are curled like the fingers rather than wrapped around them to form a fist. Tifa’s wide stances and acrostic kicks are a little less tiger-esque than Hēi-Hǔ-Quán, but there is definitely resemblance of the style there too.

All in all, she seems to employ a mixture of Shaolin arts and Boxing. Her finger-positions for fast jabs (as in Starshower and the Loz fight) are predominantly of the Tiger Fist. Her more powerful strikes, meanwhile, include Boxing crosses, hooks and uppercuts. The sewer cutscene demonstrates this clearly, when Tifa & Cloud encounter the Sahagin.

And damn, do we love the back-to-back Cloti in that scene. Surely I’m not just speaking for myself here.

5. Boxing [displayed in Unbridled Strength].

Tifa’s aforementioned fist moves and powerful finishing punches are no doubt reminiscent of boxing. Also, she always enters a fight with her fists closed in a boxing stance (whether she will employ Shaolin or other hand techniques is irrelevant). Take her cutscene against the Whispers where she, Cloud and Aerith arrive at Sector 7. She begins with a cross and follows with a rotated hook - one of the most basic boxing combos.

BONUS FACT: Rather than orthodox, Tifa always employs a southpaw stance (right hand and right foot forward). This is the preferred stance of a left-hand fighter. Is Tifa left-handed? Considering her fighting alone, yes is the plausible assumption. Here are a few examples:

- Unbridled Strength has her delivering a finishing blow with her left hand. We would expect such a move to be done with the power hand.

- Her single strike that hurls Loz across the church is also with the left hand. This punch is not part of a combo; she could have used either hand.

- In guard position, her left is the rear hand, to both attack and protect herself.

- And of course, in southpaw stance, she always begins with a left-hand strike.

However, all of Tifa’s general actions (to my observance) - like bartending, catching Aerith in the sewer, carrying the Buster Sword into Corneo’s quarters, etc. - suggest that she is right-handed. So why use the left, the weaker, as her dominant hand in fighting? Could she actually be ambidextrous? That is a possibility. But weighing up the evidence in addition to Tifa's ingenuity, this could well be out of fighting strategy.

Southpaw can give Tifa a strategic advantage, you see, because of the tactical and cognitive difficulties her enemies would have of coping with a fighter who moves in a mirror-reverse of the norm. In other words, she takes advantage of the fact that most fighters lack experience against lefties. Doing this:

- opens up chance for a variety of surprise combos;

- puts her human enemies in danger of KOs by what would otherwise be ordinary strikes; and

- enables her to trick her opponents should she unexpectedly convert to orthodox during fights.

Pretty damn awesome, huh?

6. Gymnastics [dodging maneuvers].

Gymnastics, like fighting arts, enhances balance, strength, flexibility and agility - the four areas Tifa excels at. Now, we’ve talked a lot about her strong points. But what of her weaknesses? Players will have noticed immediately that Tifa has a major setback. She can accurately be described as a glass cannon, due to her low HP and defenses that counter-balance her speed and dexterity. That is precisely what makes playing as her so compelling; you get that sense of life or death intensity. The fight feels REAL. She is the least OP character in the party, in addition to by far being the most difficult to master. Utilized properly, she can be the strongest of them all. And wow, is that rewarding or what?

Because of her weak defenses, Tifa must constantly remain on the move, and gymnastics is the quintessential means in doing so. Hand springs, aerial cartwheels - you name it, she’s got it. As if those kicks and uppercuts don’t scream epic enough already. Doesn’t it just make her even MORE amazing?

So I’ve added Hēi-Hǔ-Quán to Flowerslightning’s conclusion: that Tifa’s combat is Mixed Martial Arts, with her dominant skills as Kickboxing, Taekwondo and Muay Thai. And of course, the interweaving of Gymnastics, which adds an elegance to her epic kickassery.

Tifa lost her teacher after just two years, and spent the last five managing & running a bar, serving as AVALANCHE’s funder & treasurer, and effectively solo-raising Barret’s little daughter. Add two more years, and we have a completely absent Barret, a very sick child in addition to the one she is (now permanently) raising, and a depressed, distant Cloud who has left her to struggle as a solo barkeep, full-time nurse and single mother. How on earth did she find the time and will to master her fighting techniques?

Yes, we are talking about fiction, but this woman is nothing short of incredible. Not simply as a fighter - that isn’t even the start of it. Tifa is, to me, the character who has had it the hardest. Yet she perseveres. And not only that, but she gives. She gives and gives, and doesn’t give up, even when everyone else around her has. In addition, she is the only ‘ordinary’ member of the party: Cloud, on top of military training, had his senses enhanced with Mako & Jenova cells; Barret literally has a gun for an arm; and Aerith as the last Cetra possesses exceedingly strong magic. Tifa, like with everything she does, worked hard to hone her skills. And that, to me, is incontestably admirable.

As Flowerslightning put it, she was “ready to go through hell and yet still remain soft”. And those virtues she held to, where most people would have quit. Compassion and perseverance to the end, the two traits that uphold her - to me - as the most inspiring hero of fiction.

#my analyses #tifa lockhart #combat #ff7 remake #ff7 advent children

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vapid-slut · 4 years

Text

Perfect Harmony; Ch.1

Warning[s]: Swearing, Michael being a dirty bitch

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: Entering her senior year as a cheerio, the reader is excited to combine both her love of music and her newfound popularity. To Michael, however, this is the perfect opportunity to fuck with his innocent neighbor

A/N: Can we say, I hate this, because I really do. I have no idea what has compelled me to post this dumpster, just know that if you read this, no u didn’t <3 + I did not proofread this so if theres any typos I’m so sorry, I’m running on 4 hrs of sleep and 5 cups of coffee

Music was your life. Your parents often joked that you were singing before you uttered your first word. Unfortunately, there were no music clubs during your past two years of high school. It was only last year that you and the glee club won nationals, hence why you were able to keep funding. School administration was never really fond of the arts, but they would bend over backward to give the sports clubs whatever they needed.

Your biggest dream was to get a scholarship, preferably for music, since you excelled at it. All your life, you watched your father slave away to keep you happy. You just wanted to repay his kindness. Abruptly, your dream, which entailed you winning a grammy, was disrupted by the ringing of your alarm clock. Your arm stretched over to your nightstand, turning the device off, bringing the sound to a halt.

Slowly, you removed the sheets off your body, standing up for a brief stretch before walking to your bathroom. You went about your morning routine much quicker than you typically would. Mostly due to your excitement, this year would be the first that you spent closer to the top of the social food chain. Over the summer, your dad became fast friends with Coach Sylvester. She had come over a few times. And although their relationship was strictly platonic, they both had grown fond of each other. A week before school, she offered you a spot on the cheerios, one you couldn't turn down. Cheerleaders were at the very top of the pyramid. Girls wanted to be them while boys wanted to be with them.

Once you had finished doing the bare necessities your morning required, you hastily made your way to your closet, immediately reaching for one of the three cheerleading uniforms hanging on the rack. You stripped out of your pajamas before slipping into the skimpy skirt, unaware that you had an admirer. Michael had moved next door a few months into your freshman year, was a rather charming boy. He quickly became a hot commodity, no doubt due to how impeccably handsome he was. You were never too fond of him, but even you had to admit that he was a divine sight.

It never truly bothered you that the window into your room was straight across from the one piercing into his. But if you could see the look of satisfaction on his face as he watched you undress, you'd feel very unnerved. The boy had always felt attracted to you. He saw you as a challenge. You were one of the few students in your grade who was still a virgin. Not due to your looks, you frankly didn't have the time to go to parties or hook up with people. Your focus was on your education. And if getting into a great school meant sacrificing your social life, you were content with that.

Once you had finished getting your uniform on and slicking your hair into a neat updo, you gathered your things into your bag and hurried downstairs for breakfast. "Mornin' kiddo!" Your dad said, greeting you with a smile. You muttered a cheerful 'hey' in response, walking towards one of the cabinets full of cereal boxes. "Oh, I forgot to tell you. My car had to get fixed up last night so, I'll have to take yours today." You shrugged as a reply, not caring. "So am I taking the bus today?" Your father shook his head, reaching for a spoon at the same time. "No. That nice boy next door offered to give you a ride today. Isn't that sweet?"

Fuck- you thought to yourself, of course, the universe found some way to screw up your day. You took a long sigh before shifting your eyes to the clock on the wall. "Shit! I'm sorry, dad. I'd love to eat breakfast, but the Glee meeting starts in 20 minutes." Your dad shrugged, not too bothered. "It's fine, go have fun and tell Michael I said hello." You nodded to your old man, and with that, you were up and out the door.

As soon as you stepped foot outside, there he was. Hair perfectly curled, toothpick dangling from his soft lips. You sighed, walking towards the blonde, waiting for him to get out of the way. "Wow, you become a cheerleader, and now you think you're hot shit?" He spat, you gave him a death glare before pushing him lightly to get inside the car. He followed suit, taking his place in the driver's seat. "As much as I find you annoying, your ass does look great in that skirt." You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the boy as he started driving. "Listen up, Pillsbury fuckboy. Though this might seem hard to understand, I don't like you. And I'd rather not spend my senior year arguing with someone as unbearable as you, so can you please leave me alone?!"

The blonde chuckled at your response. Your mouth said one thing while your thoughts said another. "Your wish is my command." He mumbled sarcastically before reaching to turn up the music on the radio to an obscene volume. The rest of the car ride was entirely uneventful, neither of you uttering a word to each other. Ultimately, you had reached the school parking lot. Not many cars were there since it was early, and only a few clubs were meeting today. Before Michael could do anything, you swiftly got out the car, making sure to slam it loudly. "Don't fucking slam the door!" He said, his voice reaching you even though you were still walking, in response you promptly flipped him off. "Fucking bitch." He uttered lowly as you slowly left his field of view.

-----

"Welcome back, New Directions!" Glee's coach, Mr.Shue, said as you embraced your friends. "As you know, this will be our last year together, and a few of our beloved friends have left for college already. Which means we'll be having auditions for some newcomers." As he spoke, he walked over to the whiteboard, grabbing his trusted magic marker. "But there's a twist." You and everyone else in the room watched as he wrote out the words American Idol. "This time, you'll be judging with me."

You would typically be seated next to Tina and Mercedes, but they were both absent for the meeting. Instead, you sat with Santana on your left and Quinn to your right. You had to admit that it felt nice. Usually, you wouldn't ponder on things so benign. But you had spent most of high school getting teased by Michael and the rest of his sought after friends. Not a day went by that slushies weren't thrown in your face, now you could finally walk the halls without fear of humiliation.

Besides that, you were also really ecstatic to help Mr. Shue with auditions. Glee club was what had brought a group of entirely different people together. So you'd be more than glad to share that with a new ensemble of students before you all went your final ways.

-----

The rest of your day went by quicker than usual. There wasn't much to learn on the first day. Once the clock hit 3:30, You rushed to the auditorium as if your life depended on it. You had to admit that you missed the stage, singing, and dancing with your friends. You made your way the middle of the seating area, taking your place beside Artie.

A majority of the auditions were lackluster. Only a handful stood out. Like that girl Marley and that kid Jake. You were just about ready to leave and go home until something caught your attention. "Michael Langdon?" Your eyes lit up immediately as you heard the name. You watched as the blue-eyed boy made his way to the stage, smug look on his face.

There was no way in hell Michael fucking Langdon, the same boy who referred to glee as "homo explosion," would ever willingly audition. His rendition of "Suit and Tie" was incredible, which only pissed you off more. Not only was he insanely attractive, but he just had to be talented too, fucking men.

You watched as your fellow glee members watched in amusement. It was the girls who seemed most excited. Eventually, it all became too much, and before the boy could finish entertaining your friends, you stormed off into the parking lot. Far too upset with the blonde to drive home with him, you sent your friend Mike a text asking if he could get you. He lived pretty close to the school, so you knew it would only take a few minutes.

-----

By the time Mike had pulled up to the building, the other glee kids were exiting. You quickly reached for the door of his car, rushing to get to the passenger seat. "You alright?" He asked, worried by how fidgety you were. You nodded. "Yea, I just wanna go home." Mike was always very comforting. The two of you became friends during your freshman year, mostly because of how many classes you shared. You both had a love for music and were smart, so it wasn't long before you two clicked.

Within a few minutes, you had arrived at your house, Mike flashing you a smile. "Thank you for coming to get me. It means a lot." The dark-haired boy shrugged. "It's no biggie, see you tomorrow, cheerio." You rolled your eyes sarcastically. "Whatever, jock-face." And with that, you entered your home.

The house was currently empty. He was taking the night shift at the hospital so, he probably wouldn't come back till late at night. You walked up the stairs to your room, dropping your bag on the floor. After everything that had gone down today, you were exhausted. You quickly took off the scanty cheer uniform and slipped on your much softer penguin pajamas.

You practically threw yourself on the bed, hoping to get some rest, but were promptly distracted by a notification on your phone. The text, from an unknown number nonetheless, read 'look outside your window.' You quickly sat up, confused, and turned your head only for your eyes to be met by Michael Langdon, who just happened to be balls deep inside some random brunette.

You gave the boy a disgusted look before pulling down your blinds. Never in your life had you been more repulsed. Your mind tried long and hard to block out any memory of what you just witnessed. After around forty-five minutes, you received another text message from non-other than Michael.

'It's a shame you missed my performance."

'Go fuck yourself, Langdon.'

'If you say so ;)'

The rest of the night, you wondered what you had done to be the new subject of Mr. Pillsbury Fuckboys torment. You had spent most of your high school years avoiding him at cost. Suddenly it seemed like you weren't getting rid of him anytime soon. You were just lucky you only had to endure this for a few more months, and then you'd be on your way.

Or so you thought.

#Hawthorn!Michael x Reader #michael langdon x reader #michael langdong imagine #michael langdon smut #michael langdon blurb #michael langdon

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resident-dog · 3 years

Text

So I started playing OMORI

So, I’m fairly new to this site, but people still post live thoughts about stuff, right?

So I’ve got about 35 minutes into the game, going kinda slowly, and I have quite a few thoughts about it, whether it be tone, gameplay, or characters.

Full thoughts under the cut, if you don’t wanna read into it. And please, no gameplay or story spoilers whatsoever. I am going into this blind as a bat. Don’t even tell me of a funny one-off NPC with one really hilarious line. I’ll meet them eventually, I promise.

TL;DR, the game feels incredibly charming right now and I’m very intrigued to see where it goes.

First of all, the music is great on all fronts. It’s adorable and sometimes very ethereal (I especially love the road to Basil’s house south of the playground.) I love the little sound design bits, too. Everything feels very lighthearted and nice, with two key exceptions. One, White Space, and two, that one moment, right at the end of the Boss battle (very clever), where Omori’s health drops to 1, and we hear a heart monitor.

That already puts me way on edge. I am now officially scared about the harm that’s going to come to these children, and I need to protect them at all costs.

Second of all, the characters. They all very clearly have a personality trait that they’re built around, but I do really appreciate how they ebb, flow, and interact with each other.

I’m super intrigued by how different Omori seems from his friends. Very clearly, it seems he lives separate from them, entirely. And not only that, he’s colored differently. He doesn’t smile whatsoever.

He seems depressed.

I want to know what White Space is all about. Why does he live there with only a computer he stares blankly at, a tissue box, a cat, a black lightbulb, a knife, and mysterious red hands that force him back to his little spot if he tries to step out of line?

I am greatly in love with the other two kids, Mari and Basil, and their little dynamics among the four party members.

Kel, Hero, and Aubrey’s home, colored in purples and pinks and neon colors of all kinds, feels very pleasing, and reminds me somewhat of a Snail’s House music video.

The little sidequests feel very charming and neat, and I really enjoyed the little game of hide-and-seek we played.

I love all the references to Earthbound. They are everywhere and I love it very dearly. I can tell this game has set itself by Earthbound’s standards, and I am more than ready for it to tell a more compelling story. (Sidenote, I have been spoiled for the end of Mother 3, but I have yet to complete it. It’s on my list, I have the fan translation, and I really want to see the comparison between these two’s stories for being a darker MOTHERish game.)

Speaking of Earthbound, it just came to me what OMORI reminds me so much of right now. It feels like an entire game set in EB’s Magicant. For both the good and the bad (what the hell was that black-and-white specter near the beach? Why does it feel so damn ominous when the game tells me Omori (or I) have a fear of something?!).

On another note, the combat feels nice so far. Obviously I have had no chance to really play with it much, but I am intrigued to see how I can push the Emotion system. I got Omori up to Estatic during the Boss fight and it seemed to help, although exactly how, I’m not sure. I wonder what the purpose of actually making your party members sadder is...

Disjointed as all those thoughts were, I’m really enjoying OMORI so far, and I really really really can’t wait to play it again soon.

-Canine

#omori #omori liveblog #floofliloquies

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glumpiglet · 4 years

Note

Beetlejuice meeting his S/O and shes a ghost?

Hi..Thank you for the request.. I had a lot of fun with this one.. It really got away from me lol I hope you like it <3 to those who requested I havent forgotten about you, it’s just easier for me to write on the weekend when I’m not working. K love you guys

Warning: bit of swearing.. basic beej innuendos... thats it.

If you had known that when you woke up that Wednesday, it would have been your last day alive, you probably would have done so not hungover. Stumbling out of bed, sheets still clutching at your legs, you swore at the morning sun shining once again for the high, wide windows in all the bedrooms. It was on the list to replace the sheer curtains, but fabric that long was hard to find and not cheap to buy.

When Great Aunt Gerdy left you her house, the only wish she had was to ‘preserve, protect, and breath life back into Windflew Manor.’

Sweet, naive Gertrude. Spun of sugar more than flesh, your great aunt had been the youngest of twelve and definitely your favourite family member. Growing up, you fondly remembered spending summers here, riding your bike through the halls on rainy days, playing ‘Pirates and Rogues’ in the backyard with Gerdy and her children.

When you got older you begged to still come to the Manor; Gertrude watched you grow and in her own mind, Auntie Gerdy had assumed you would follow the steps of the women in your family, hunker down with a fine man, pop out some kids every few years.

As you said, Gertrude was tragically naive. Never had the heart to ever tell her the truth. That marriage….Children? Had never even entered the equations of goals. You wanted a spontaneous, fun life full of breakable things. Adventure.

But also it was known that if you didn’t take this house, it would have gone to an auction. It broke your heart the way her children acted, their mother was one of the greatest women you had ever met, a role model. It was what she wanted. You couldn’t do that to Aunt Gerdy. So with hesitant determination, you had set about restoring Windflew Manor.

Due to funds, you were forced to do most of the work, getting help for a few handier friends. But it had been coming along nicely, room by room the cobwebs and mold were disappearing. It was satisfying work.

Resting your head against the shower wall, however, you didn’t think you could find the strength to tackle the gardens today. It was all your friend's fault, ‘one more drink (Y/N), we’ve worked so hard!’

Exiting the shower, wiping the fog from the mirror, you reflected on how tired the image looked as you moisturized, changing into comfy shorts and a tank top without bothering to properly dry yourself. It was a warm day and you liked the cool moisture mixed with the lotion slicking your skin.

Just as you began brushing your teeth, the doorbell rang multiple times. Who the hell was that this early in the morning? The sound came again, more insistent and you had to roll your eyes.

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Hold your horses..” Sprinting down the hallway, trying to steady on the banister, you felt the gravity shift as your feet slid across the hardwood.

You supposed everyone would lament your damned clumsiness, your carelessness. Imprinted on the skin, you held the reminders of how prone to accidents you had been. It had been a joke in the family for years. ‘(Y/N) is gonna kill herself one day!’

It was only a matter of time.

Swing your hand wildly, nothing could be gripped as you felt yourself swinging forward, hurdling towards the twenty-six flight of stairs that as a child, never it was considered it would have spelled your end….

Turns out, it had been nothing more than a neighbor, wanting to let you know the street sweepers would be out tomorrow.

Life was funny that way.

Watching in dull horror as the EMT’s took your body away, trying to process the following information.. It came to you so obviously even though it sounded crazy: You weren’t having some out of body experience… You hadn’t taken any hallucinogenic drugs lately.. You were dead.

Thinking about what the afterlife would have been: Heaven, Hell, Purgatory…. Haunting Auntie’s empty house had not been on the top of the list.

Time was meaningless now, you could look at the grandfather clock and see two p.m and look five minutes later and see eleven a.m. it was always cold. You cursed not wearing something warmer than your p.j’s that last morning, not that you thought it would have helped.

Going outside had been a big no-no. Whatever fucked up colossal worm creature had been out there when you tried the one time to leave, was obviously meant to be keeping you here. So here you stayed.

It could have been only a day you spent dead and lonely in the house. Or a week. A month. Years. You were being a little dramatic, you knew it hadn’t been years. Friends and family came by, grieving openly, making your heartbreak; and removing all your items, which was even worse. Obviously to be sold off or stored in your old room. A time capsule.

On one of the many days that found you aimlessly wandering the halls, a book fell before you without pretense. Equal parts startled and puzzled, well as much as a ghost could be, you picked it up.

‘Handbook for the Recently Deceased..’

Gripping the pages, intent to open, you were halted as your front door swung open. A dozen or so handsome, young men carrying multiple packed things burst into Aunt Gerdy’s foyer, laughing and chatting loudly.

“Aw, dude this place is awesome!”

“Look at all the space!”

“Get that pong table over there!”

“What the fuck!?”

Stomping forward, you were about to raise your voice louder before you stopped yourself….Right, stupid... They couldn’t see you… The whole ‘being dead thing’.

Watching in impotent rage as they slammed their things on the hardwood floor, scuffing their sneakers on the expensive carpets you had saved every penny for…

This was not good. Not good at all.

You had been right.

It wasn’t hard to not like these kids. You weren’t really into the whole ‘boys would be boys’ excuse for male idiocy in their youths.

You didn’t like the way they treated each other, the archaic ‘hazing’ they would often do leaving you feeling ill. You didn’t like the way they treated the girls they used and laughed as they were forced down the traditional ‘walk of shame’ making you furious.

You especially did not like the way they treated the Manor. It was terrible, gaudy streamers and tacky posters were pinned to the walls. Daily parties...Keggers…. Were held here, the place was a war zone. Litter and garbage cluttered every hall and you were beginning to tear your hair out in helplessness.

They had turned your Aunt’s treasured home and your hardworking project into a frat house. It was just rude.

What were you gonna do? Time passed and you watched as the house grew further and further into decay when a lightbulb burst unexpectedly.

Realizing your answer, you hoped the discarded handbook was still where you had dropped it. Returning to the living room, you sighed in relief at seeing the odd-looking text where you left it. Walking up to it, however, you noticed something there that wasn’t there before.

A card, dusty, and sticking out of a random page. Bending down you began pulling at it, fingering the worn edges. You lifted it up into the light, trying to read it under all the dirt caked on. On the card, it just said one word three times, strangely compelled you said it out loud.

“Betelgeuse… Betelgeuse…. Betelgeuse?”

The burst of smoke made you hack instantly, it was like someone smoked weed in an embalming room, pungent and eye-watering.

It was a man. Well, no. Not a human man in any case. Duh. You would say this was the weirdest thing to ever happen to you, but nothing was normal after you died apparently.

Observing as he waved his hands, stepping out of the cloud, you couldn’t help the widening of your eyes...He was.. Definitely interesting looking..

“Geez, did I come late to the party or what-… Woah.”

He looked awful and smelt even worse, and why the hell was he here?

The… Character that stepped had gone silent. Awkward and stilted, you struggled to speak. It couldn’t help being noticed his... Hair was changing colour… Most certainly going from an almost neon green to baby pink…. What was he?

“Don’t be afraid. You’re dead. I am also dead.” There was a moment before an incredulous giggle escaped your lips, you couldn’t help but realize it had been the first time you laughed since.. Well..

“Yeah, I figured that. From... You know… Seeing my dead body get taken away.” The two of you stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, the silence deafening.

Before he pounced. Flouncing over in a comical manner, he began to circle you, the humour disappearing from you at the look in his eye.

“Huh, that line usually doesn’t work.. You’re surprisingly calm..” Turning your head until you couldn’t anymore, you swiveled striving for eye contact. He completed his journey around and stood in front of you, seeming to be searching for something. Before he held his grimey hand out…. The intense desire to hesitate held you still.

It didn’t seem to deter him in the slightest.

“Hello! A pleasure to meetcha-” Leaning forward, you realized in just enough time what he was doing before he could press his lips to yours, jumping back.

“Uh, excuse me!?”

“Can’t blame a demon for trying, babes. Anyways uh… What can I do for you?” He fidgeted with his jacket, pulling at the cuffs and flapping the lapels, wafting his stench towards you making you gag. Covering your nose you murmured beyond belief.

“What do you mean?”

“Well usually I only get called when someone needs something from me….. Bio-exorcism. Homicide. Sexual pleasure. I do it all.” This guy couldn’t actually be serious… You shook your head, none of this was helping. You had gone to the book for an answer and had only gotten even more questions.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about dude, I just found this card in this book. Anyways, what is happening right now? Who are you and why can you see me?”

Snickering, he continued to very eagerly invade your personal space and it was getting harder to find the space in the living room. The predator was cornering.

“You said my name, sexy. You called me.”

What kind of name was Betelgeuse? Deciding immediately to shorten it for ease, you opened your mouth but apparently, he was on a roll, and continued.

“And I already told you.. We’re dead. Deceased. Post Mortem.” Bumping into the wall, just hearing the words from someone else’s lips made you stop… Well, dead. Pun intended. Before they could be halted tears were gathering in your eyes… You weren’t even that emotional about it anymore, had already spent endless nights sobbing about what-ifs and regrets...Not for a while, still, it never got any easier to think about.

Trying and failing miserably to hide the sniffles, you peered at BJ’s surprised expression.

“Shit...shit..shit. I didn’t mean to do that…. Don’t cry,” Wiping at stubborn tears that fell against your wishes, you could see BJ shuffle his feet, looking extremely uncomfortable at your sudden breakdown. You tried to calm him, ironically.

“No, I’m fine. It’s just… Not been that great so far... Sometimes I think I might be in hell.” Staring at the ground, you had the overwhelming wish once again for it to finally swallow you whole and take you where you belonged.

“Is it… Your current occupants?”

“It certainly doesn’t help.” Looking up at BJ’s tilted head and rapt expression, the need to confide was making you continue.

“My Aunt left me this house and… I’ve hated seeing what they're doing to it.” BJ looked to be contemplating something before he spoke.

“I could help you.”

You looked at him “What do you mean?”

“I told you.. Again... Sweetheart, you’re smokin’ hot but your memory’s shit. I’m a Bio-exorcist. Getting breathers out is my forte. Well, most breathers can’t see me… But I can teach you! Breathers are waay more likely to see a ghost than a demon.” Riveted by what he was saying, you didn’t realize his pursuit until you felt his grip sound your waist, pulling you closer.

“Mmm… Get you in a little school uniform.. Give you extra credit...” Blatantly ignoring him, focusing on the important part of what he said.

“What you’re saying is we can get these kids out of here?”

“Of course babes. I take my job very seriously.” Shooting him an incredulous look, you managed to extract from him without much ease, he was really touchy for someone you just met.

“Yeah, I noticed…”

This was insanity. You weren’t actually considering letting this.. Demon?! To teach you how to scare the young men living in your house. It was dangerous and crazy.

Even more, there was no other option. Desperate times.

“Then you’re hired,”

“Oh, this is gonna be so good!” Once again having to duck away from his advance, you pressed a hand to the dirty front of his suit, holding him at bay.

“Stop that,”

“Hmm... Playing hard to get, I respect that.”

Maybe this wasn’t a great idea.

In hindsight, it worked out perfectly. Beej, as he had assured, was very good at his job. Just because that job entailed scaring the shit out of anyone and anything around him shouldn’t be held against him.

Once again, incredulously if you had known in your life that your love of horror movies would have come in handy in your afterlife, you would have paid much more attention.

Beej was impressed with your novice skill. The voice throwing came naturally to you, and your favourite trick was hiding in the corner of one of their bedrooms, positioning your arms and legs at odd angles and whispering to the sleeping boys, stifling giggles as they awoke, petrified and flew downstairs, waking everyone else in the house.

None of them could actually see you, but you had sworn the one redheaded one had locked eyes in the bathroom mirror, the two of you paused before the urge to scare rapidly left and the need to leave arose. Walking out the bathroom his eyes had definitely followed.

He never told his friends about it, but BJ had said he watched him lay awake more than one night, clutching his sheets a little too tight.

Possession was something you felt was unnecessary. Beej had often offered to uh.. Show you how it worked but the thought of BJ well.. Inside of you… It made your skin crawl and you didn’t know if it was from repulsion or excitement.

BJ was.. Unexpected in the best way. Devilishly Intelligent. Hilarious and.. You saw glimpses of his sweetness. He bashfully gave you dead flowers from the garden and was constantly sending you praises that would make you blush if you still had blood. How beautiful you were, how great of a scarer you were…. After getting over the whole stink thing, he was really cute and you might have been... Falling for him. Just the thought made you terrified.

It all came to an end gradually. It was unexpected, you thought it would have been some big final fright, using all of your cunning ghostly powers. But no, one by one they just disappeared. Claiming to be moving back with family, dropping out, or simply leaving for ‘reasons’.

On the day you stood in the kitchen, now empty save for a few left behind appliances, the beaming smile sent to BJ couldn’t be contained.

“We did it.”

“You did it, babes. I was uh- Just along for the ride, I guess.”

Shifting closer to him, you saw with amusement Beej staring at your lips. The BJ of before would have taken your closeness as an immediate seduction, trying his luck. Now the fact he was trying to control himself, made your heart swell.

The moment was broken by the sound of the front door opening, you held your breath to see who, or what entered.

A beautiful couple entered, followed by an obvious real estate agent, discussing the house. The couple seemed too good to be true, polite, and awed at the house. Seeing the little bundle of a baby tucked in the mother’s arm as they continued their inspection. You supposed in a way Aunt Gertrude had gotten her wish. And that could be enough.

You turned to Beej watching the scene with an odd countenance.

“Thank you BJ, really. I’ve had a lot of fun.” You finally noticed. There was purple in his hair, something was making him sad.

“Why does it sound like you're saying goodbye?”

Oh. oh.

Struggling to answer him, you watched as he further sank in himself. “I read the book, BJ..The Netherworld… Shouldn’t I be…”

“Not yet! Once you get there… We won’t be able to see each other this much... Haven’t we been having fun?”

“Of course but-”

“Don’t leave!” His voice was frantic, higher-pitched than you ever heard, you couldn’t find the words to calm him.

“Please! I’ll… I’ve been looking into something…” The moment took the oddest turn when Beej practically flew to his knees, reaching out to you to clasp your hands between his before clearly speaking two words you never imagined him saying.

“Marry me.”

The words shocked you. Scandalized, you said the one thing you could.

“Beetlejuice!” That wasn’t it, the look on his face broke you. It was pitiful, desperate.

“No nonono say something else babes, let me explain!” You reached out, stroking his stubble as his giant, golden eyes glittered at you with so many emotions swirling.

“I’m not gonna send you away Beej, stop please.” Taking deep breaths between you, the urge to sink to the floor with him ran over you. Somewhere in your mind you realized how stupid this was, two ghosts having a panic attack in the kitchen, but weirder things have happened.

“If I… Marry a breather. I get brought to life. So I’ve been thinking..” Beej was asking to marry you.. Could ghosts and demons even get married? Would you have a wedding? Invite other ghosts to the ceremony?

“I don’t know BJ… We don’t even know if it will work,” You hadn’t said ‘no’ yet. At the moment, you couldn’t find the desire to do so. You liked Beej, it was the little things in death you realized that mattered.

“What have we got to lose?.. I thought..”

Looking at him, on the floor with you. Overwhelmed with affection, you leaned forward, noting with glee Beej’s astonishment. Kissing the ghost with the most was... Everything and nothing what you expected. His tasted like cigarettes and dirt, still you leaned into him more.

The one thing that could make death totally rad. Being with him. He was absolutely right. Pulling away, looking at his blissed out face, eyes staying closed, you gave him your answer.

“Yes. Okay. I’ll marry you.”

#beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice broadway #betelgeuse #charles deetz #lydia deetz #delia deetz #adam maitland #barbara maitland #beetlejuice request

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grailfinders · 4 years

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Fate and Phantasms #59: Jeanne d’Arc

Today on Fate and Phantasms, we’re finally finishing up the original roster of servants with The Maiden of Orleans, Jeanne d’Arc! As you might expect from the holy maiden, Jeanne is 100% a Cleric, protecting her soldiers as she leads the charge.

Check out the level-by-level breakdown below the cut, or the build summary over here!

I’d also like to thank everyone who likes or reblogs these posts; I thought this would be a really niche topic, but this blog now has more followers than my main! We’ve still got plenty of servants to go after this, so I hope you’ll continue to enjoy them.

Race and Background

Like most servants, Jeanne’s a Human. Rather, she’s a bundle of magical energy roughly based on the impact a human made on history, but that’s a mouthful, and also not a race, so we’ll stick with Human. This gives her +1 to all stats.

Jeanne’s your typical Folk Hero; came from humble beginnings, achieved great things through sheer determination, and died a fiery death at the hands of those she saved. That last part’s not typical, but it’s also not part of a person’s background. Being a folk hero gives you proficiency with Animal Handling and Survival. You grew up on a farm, so that’s not too wild.

Stats

You receive visions from a higher power, and know other servants’ True Names on sight. That’s pretty wise, so your Wisdom has to be pretty high. Despite having zero formal education, you can argue theology with the best of them through sheer conviction- that’s Charisma. Third is Constitution; you have a martyr complex, so it helps to have some health in the first place before you go throwing it away to save others. Fourth is Dexterity, because it’s just more helpful here. Your Strength isn’t great. I know canon Jeanne can fold street lamps like pretzels, but sacrifices had to be made somewhere. Finally, dump Intelligence. Remember that “zero formal education” thing from earlier? Yeah.

Class Levels

1. Being a Cleric is a given, but being a catholic complicated our choice of domain a bit. Since you’re a monotheist, God falls under every domain, but your personal power set fits best in the Protection domain from an Unearthed Arcana. First level clerics get Spells, which they cast and prepare using their Wisdom. Protection clerics also get a Shield of the Faithful, letting them react to stick a shield or arm between an attacking creature and their target within 5′ of you. This makes the target harder to hit, imposing disadvantage on the attack.

You also have proficiency in Wisdom and Charisma saves, as well as two cleric skills. You’re a part of History, and I’m sure God’ll fill in any blanks you need to know. Religion is an option, but you’re not educated, just really persistent. That’s Persuasion.

For cantrips, Light will help your dumb human eyes see in the dark and make your flag all glowy for your noble phantasms. Mending will help keep the soldiers’ uniforms in one piece while on campaign, and Spare the Dying will help keep the soldiers in one piece while on campaign.

Clerics prepare their spells, so your exact spell list isn’t a part of character creation, but I’ll still go over some to keep in mind. Compelled Duel and Protection from Evil and Good are part of your domain spell list, so you get them for free. The former can keep your squishier teammates safe by forcing an enemy to target you, while the latter can keep a key member safe from aberrations, celestials, elementals, fey, fiends, and undead. Given the number of golems you end up fighting most events, this is a good spell to keep on hand. Some other spells to keep in mind are Bless and Shield of Faith for combat support, and Healing Word to keep everyone on their feet.

Finally, the question of what weapons to use. The closest thing to a flagpole on the simple weapon list would probably be a Spear, used two-handed. However, your strength isn’t going to be great; you’ll mostly be using this to wave your banner around. You should also keep a Dagger on hand as well. I’d prefer a shortsword, but a dagger’s is the only simple finesse weapon, so it’s what we have to put up with.

2. At second level you can Channel Divinity once per short rest. As a protection cleric, you have two options to pick from.

Turn Undead forces a wisdom save on undead within 30′ of you or they have to run away for a minute or until it takes damage.

Radiant Defense channels holy energy into an ally within 30′ of you as an action. The first time they take damage in the next minute, that energy is released on the attacker, dealing 2d10+your level in radiant damage.

3. Third level clerics get second level spells, including your domain spells Aid and Protection from Poison. The former increases three creatures’ HP totals by five for eight hours, while the latter does exactly what the name describes. Some other spells to look at include Prayer of Healing for when you can’t quite take a short rest, Lesser Restoration for disease and conditions, and Augury to start getting some divine visions.

4. Use your first ASI to become a Heavy Armor Master. This reduces all nonmagical slashing, bludgeoning, and piercing damage by 3 while wearing heavy armor. Calling what you wear “heavy” armor is a bit generous, but you’re throwing yourself in front of the enemy with d8s for hit dice, you can be a bit generous with yourself.

You also get another cantrip this level. Resistance adds a d4 to an ally’s saving throw, for when you need to be sure Spartacus doesn’t get charmed.

5. At fifth level, your Turn Undead transforms into Destroy Undead. Now when undead of CR 1/2 or lower fail the save, they just die instantly.

You also get third level spells, including domain spells Protection from Energy and Slow. Sometimes an idiot lizard is throwing fire all over the place and you just don’t want to deal with it, and sometimes the DM gives you a maralith with seven extra attacks. These spells help protect the party from those situations. Some other spells to check out are Aura of Vitality for health regeneration, Beacon of Hope to give your party something to rally around, Daylight for the aesthetic, and Mass Healing Word for when your whole party plays barbarians.

6. You can now Channel Divinity twice between rests, and you are a Blessed Healer. Rather than just healing Brian Blessed, this means that whenever you cast a spell to heal someone else, you also gain life; 2+ the spell’s level, to be exact.

7. Seventh level clerics get fourth level spells. Your domain spells are Guardian of Faith and Otiluke’s Resilient Sphere. The former isn’t that in-character for you, but the latter gives a creature Invincibility at the cost of trapping them inside a hamster ball. Another spell to look over is Divination to ask the big man a question that burning you up inside.

8. Use your next ASI to become an Inspiring Leader. Give the party a 10 minute speech to give them temporary hit points equal to your level + your charisma modifier. You may not know anything about tactics, military history, who you’re fighting, or why you’re fighting, but you’ve got heart, dammit! And that counts for something!

Also, your Destroy Undead kills at CR 1, and you gain a Divine Strike. Once per turn, you can add 1d8 Radiant damage to an attack for some extra holy favor.

9. Ninth level clerics get fifth level spells, including your final domain spells Antilife Shell and Wall of Force. The former can protect you from other creatures, so long as they aren’t forced through the barrier. The latter creates a solid wall between your party and danger, and is likely the closest you’ll get to invincibility at this level. For other spells, Dawn creates a cylinder of radiant damage you can move around the battlefield, and Mass Cure Wounds cures massive amounts of wounds.

10. You learn to call upon Divine Intervention. You use your action to beg the DM for a literal Deus Ex Machina, and roll percentile dice. If you roll lower than your level, you get some help. You can use this feature once per long rest, but if you succeed you have to wait a week before you use it again.

You also get another cantrip. Guidance lets you back seat game with the help of God, giving a creature a d4 it can add to one ability check.

11. Your Destroy Undead cranks up to killing anything CR 2 or lower, and you can prepare 6th level spells. Find the Path is another form of your Revelation skill, letting you find the most direct route to a chosen location, as long as that location stays in one place on the same plane. You could also check out Heal for, you guessed it, more healing.

12. Use your next ASI to become a leader on the battlefield with Tandem Tactician. Now you can Help as a bonus action with a range of 10 feet, and you can help on two attacks if they’re aimed at the same enemy. You’re not that accurate, so why not help out the who are?

13. Thirteenth level clerics get a Divine Strike Improvement, adding an extra d8 of radiant damage when you use it. You also learn seventh level spells! Divine Word can cripple weakened enemies, and more importantly it forces extraplanar creatures back to their own world for 24 hours. Regenerate is even more healing that you won’t have to pay attention to.

14. Your Destroy Undead increases to affect CR 3 undead. Now Mummies and Wights will tremble before your might! ...Isn’t it weird how the other Channel Divinity option doesn’t get any stronger?

15. Fifteenth level clerics get eighth level spells. Holy Aura will protect your party from anything Wall of Force won’t, Antimagic Field will give you a command spell to counteract most of the nonsense the other servants might be using.

16. Use your ASI to bump up your Wisdom for stronger spell saves.

17. Your Destroy Undead now destroys undead of CR 4 or lower, letting you instantly banish any ghost that comes your way. You also gain an Indomitable Defense. At the end of short or long rests, you can resist two types of damage from the following: Bludgeoning, Necrotic, Piercing, Radiant, and Slashing. You can also use your action to pass these resistances to another creature, who’ll hold onto them until your next rest or until you spend a bonus action to take them back.

Finally, you get 9th level spells! Mass Heal and Power Word: Heal will maximize your healing powers to help the rest of your party stay not dead.

18. You can now Channel Divinity three times per short rest.

19. Use your last ASI to round up your Dexterity for more accuracy and better saves and Charisma for more rousing speeches.

20. At your capstone level, your Divine Intervention Improvement means your calls for some holy help are always successful.

Pros:

You can set up a very strong Defense, shutting down and blocking out enemy attacks and spells. You can impose disadvantage, physically block their advance, counter any magic within 30′ of you, or make their attacks blow up in their face with some Radiant Defense.

Whatever damage does go through won’t be a problem thanks to all your Healing, keeping the rest of the party on their feet until the battle’s won.

Intelligence might be your dump stat, but you’ve got a hotline to the one who knows all, so it’s not a big deal. Spells like Divination and Find the Path will help keep the party pointed in the right direction.

Cons:

You can’t really do all that much on your own, offensively speaking. Your highest attacking stat is a 14, and that will only help you swing a dagger around.

Your physical stats aren’t that good in general. 143 HP isn’t bad for a caster, but you want to be on the front lines, so it could be an issue. Aid is a great way to cover this weakness, but that does mean you’ll be spending spells to do so. Your low strength also means you’re stuck with the weakest heavy armor available, so your AC isn’t amazing.

You don’t need to worry about getting hit if the enemy has to shoot through a wall though, so stay on the defensive and pray your allies will take up arms with you.

Next up: Animal Abuse!

#Fate Grand Order #fgo #D&D 5e #Jeanne d'Arc #Fate and Phantasms

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zachsgamejournal · 3 years

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COMPLETED: Breath of Fire 3

It is done. God is dead. Well...a self-proclaimed god. While we cheated, my son and I did beat the game...and, despite this being one of my favorite RPGs, it's uh...my first time "beating" it.

So! We crossed the desert into the futuristic city that now lies in ruins and took the elevator up to the Myria Orbital station. It's, uh, a space station connected to the earth by an elevator shaft...I guess. Concept Art

After all the wandering about, I was pretty ready to meet "God" and get this over with--but it's the finale, so they had to make it count. We wandered about, trying to feel our way around the "space station". Eventually, we found a room I had forgotten about...it had electrified floors. To un-electrify them, there are three consoles. Each console has a pattern of negative and positive signs on a grid. You have to get the three patterns to over-lap so that the postive-negative charges cancel each other out. But with three panels, you run into issues of two positives and one negative occupying the same space: thus it stays electrified.

Clever idea: yes. Fun idea: no.

One console is in the room with the floor, and the other two consoles are in a completely different room, separated by a 30 second walk not counting the one or two random battles you're likely to get. I got really frustrated, and my son went and told my wife: "That game is making daddy nuts!"

Anyway, I figured it out and moved on. This required a boss fight (easy enough cause we're cheating), which got us a keycard and special plant-killing shells for Momo. Going back to the other wing of the station, Momo uses the special shells to blow up plant vines blocking the door (not unlike a puzzle in Resident Evil 2...).

I think beyond this, we find a labyrinth of utility hallways. I had to back track a few times. Eventually we get to an indoor garden.

FLASHBACK: (not in the game, but mine)

Back when I first tried to play this game, I defeated every challenge thrown at me. I think I did have the guide to the game, but it was mostly used to help me through some sticky parts (and look at the cool art!). I made it to the final dungeon (Myria Station) but struggled to beat the final boss.

As a matter of fact. I never beat the final boss.

I needed to be a higher level. To reach that level, I did some grinding in the garden area. Mostly, you fight Plant 42s, which I loved since it was a reference to the mutated Resident Evil plant. But it shocked me to see that the exp was about 800, when there are fights elsewhere in the station that land closer to the 2k range. Surely that would have been more effective leveling?

Either way--I just never got strong enough to win the final boss.

BACK TO PRESENT:

We find Teepo here. Jack and Rei are surprised as hell! My son was excited, cause we all thought Teepo was dead. Turns out, Teepo is also a dragon, just like Jack. But instead of wandering the world with Garr and Nina, he joined the Goddess Myria who convinced him that his powers were dangerous. So he surrendered himself to her and is now her brain-washed lapdog, more or less.

Teepo causes Ryu to go into a weird dream (which we had to play twice due to game-freeze). Here, Ryu is exposed to the thoughts and anxieties of his party members. This is supposed to convince him to surrender his power like Teepo, but it doesn't.

Nina apparently struggles to please her mother by being a good, respectable princess while also trying to be herself and pursue her own sense of justice: such as helping Ryu and saving Rei!

Rei...I guess is concerned about his own power as Weretiger. Mostly, he just seems to want to help his old friend?

Garr wants to reconcile why he was ordered to kill hundreds of dragons, especially then they easily could have defended themselves--but they didn't.

Momo wants to understand all the advanced tech here, and how it could be used to better the world.

Peco is apparently the fucking tree of Yggdrassil in mobile form, and wanders about with thousands of years worth of world-knowledge, but can't communicate it to the team cause he doesn't speak English.

So anyway, Ryu doesn't relent and Teepo must be defeated. He dies and turns into a purple dragon. Rei and Ryu are sad, but yo--dick move.

Next, we have to find our way to Myria. First, there's this confusing 3 level maze of boss rooms that have you fighting past bosses, sometimes several at a time. It was annoying, and my son was done with it. WE JUST WANT TO MEET GOD!

Once through, we find a super sci-fi, futuristic room with holograms explaining Myria's intentions. The advanced world was being consumed by sand. My guess is that pollution made that world self destructive. Myria led her people to a greener, more flourishing land and then built a giant ocean between them to stop the sands. She also made the ocean very dangerous so the humans wouldn't return. Some how, she feared the power of the dragons would bring about another sand-issue, so she had them killed to save humans.

Now, this seems like a Lost scenario where Myria is no God, and likely didn't actually build any oceans. Instead, she helped people escape their self-destructive technology, and then controlled people's knowledge of tech so they wouldn't repeat past mistakes. So basically, she kept building machines and letting them fall in the ocean so they'd wash up on shore (Steel Beach). This allowed people to use machines a little, but not "make" machines.

I think she really feared dragon power as a threat to her own power, and wanted them out of the equation since they didn't submit to her rule. Since she martyred herself as a savior of humans, she felt justified in her genocide.

Ryu chooses whether to help her or fight her. But she warns that fighting her would mean facing the desert without her protection. Warning that holds little merit in my mind, cause she's a liar.

So we fought her. We defeated her.

The space station starts to crumble. Garr decides he's completed his journey and turns to stone like the other guardians. Everyone else escapes. Myria prays to God, asking, "If there is a God..." revealing that she was playing a part and did not actually know shit (like Jacob in Lost).

Afterwards, Ryu is seen joining his friends at a cliff overlooking a desert: fade to black.

Despite the many deviations the story takes for the sake of taking up time, I really enjoy this game. The world is well defined and the characters are good. Even the villains often have empathetic motivations, or perspectives that make you doubt your first conclusions. The game also tackles a variety of concepts that are morally challenging and deals with death and sacrifice in meaningful ways. It led to great conversations between my son and I. The last leg of the game is a bit tedious and shallow. I understand why they felt compelled to make it "bigger", but they used up most of their plot early on.

We cheated. We had infinite health and all that. Basically, we just killed all the grinding and retries. The game has a great story and fun mini games (and the sound track is fucking amazing!) so I don't think much is lost by skipping the tedious random battles and leveling up. If that's something you want as part of your experience, go for it.

It's just, for RPGs like this, the best things about them are story, characters, mini-games, puzzles, and exploring. The fighting is fine, and expected, but it shouldn't take up 70% of your play time when it's really only about 10% of the fun (if that).

So I feel no shame in cheating.

My son wants to play Breath of Fire 4 now. I'm excited to revisit this one (I actually beat it before (no cheating))!

#Zach's Game Journal #PLAYING #Breath of Fire 3 #Breath of Fire III #PlayStation #DuckStation #PS1 #Emulators #God is Dead #JK: she might be fine

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icharchivist · 3 years

Note

Thank you for answering the previous asks and hope you're prepared!

How much, out of ten, are you of each winter troupe member?

Have a good day :3c

ahah thank you for doing that all the way!

and oh boy i thought i was prepared but turns out-

okay notewise.:

Tsumugi: 7/10, Tasuku: 3/10, Homare: 4/10 Hisoka: 9.5/10, Azuma: 10/10, Guy: 6/10

(if you're supprised Azuma is actually my ultimate kin and it's not Hisoka: congratz i fooled all of u. the only reason i don't have an Azuma icon is that i genuinely think he looks too sexy in some arts and it doesn't feel Me despite everything else. The more u know.)

And. i need to warn that i went much more into personal details for Hisoka and Azuma under the cut to the point where it may be overwhelming. And that Azuma's entry alone is 2.1k words long. What the fuck me.

Relating to team "we have so much trauma" is going to be so much fun.

coughs, anyway take care :3c

(Links: Spring, Summer, Autumn , Winter ranking)

Winter my beloved, this is going to be a normal, non emotional ranking at all.

Tsumugi: 7/10 I relate to his lack of confidence, and the way he gave up on everything he loved when his spirit was crushed (re what I was talking about with my Kumon rant). On my down time I did study a bit of psychology and though I wouldn’t put myself at the same level as a psy student I’m often told I read people mostly in an accurate way so I can relate to that. I can use my powers for Evil like nudging people in some direction or knowing where to attack, but I am super aware of that and I’ve been extra conscious about not having it happen again for over ten years now DLKFJDLF (Azuma is kinda like that too). But yeah the fact he is like that too makes it relatable.

I also think that the whole “feeling you fucked up and took all the responsibility when a friendship broke apart” is also something very relatable. So is “ghosting your friends after that”. I relate to the fact he’s a nerd too. I relate to him more than not but I guess I just removed points because of how while I relate to specificities the whole thing doesn’t connect as much as it could?

Tasuku: 3/10 he’s probably the one I relate the least to. I honestly didn’t understand Tasuku much until Nocturnality on my first read, and it’s only then that things clicked. Legit I saw him the way Azuma saw him dLKFJDKFJDF. But I do feel it relatable that he feels responsible for failing his friend and that he took it upon himself to try to read more into how people are behaving to try to prevent it from happening again. But else he’s. genuinely not like me KDJFKLDFJDFL

Homare: 4/10 mhmm. I think I relate to the way he is passionate and how much he genuinely loves. I also relate to the fact he is pretty analytic, though the details of what makes his struggles are not something I relate to easily. I have felt broken before, I was told i was broken or unfit in some ways, so this particular pain is something I completely understand. I also did use to be an artist and a writer so I can relate to that passion of his, although as I mentioned in others ranking *shrugs*. That said he’s very much more exuberant and confident than I am and I would assume I know how to deal with people emotionally a bit more.

Hisoka: 9.5/10 oh boy where to start. This is going to be a tough one to get into without getting extremely personal. To start with, I’m a sleepy baby. I sleep a lot DLKJFDF though not much at night. I used to fall asleep in class all the time my friends had to always be on the watch out for me. I don’t have much energies. I love plushy and I love being comfortable in some places. I also really love sweets tho not as much as him. I also do care ways too much for my specific plushies and pillows (I do have huge penguins plushies too).

I, too, have memories issues, though of course to a lesser extend. I have a lot of trauma and for a lot of them I ended up getting fuzzy memories. I used to be in a pretty toxic environment where I constantly had to make use of my memory to survive, and so when my memory started failing me, I was terrified. My parents gaslight me all the time and pretends a lot of things that happened didn’t happen and that I’m crazy for believing it happened, so the moment my memory started to fail me I started to panic a lot. It terrified me to not being completely sure whenever I could trust myself or not. It made me feel extremely unreliable. It’s still something I struggle with a lot.

This would have been my answer pre-awakening moon at least. I always related to him to some degree so Awakening moon was a slap in the face in a way I wasn’t ready to deal with, and this is where I have to be uncomfortably personal.

I am the youngest sibling of 3. My eldest sister ran away from home when I was 6, never to be seen again. My other sister resented me because I used to be very close to the eldest and she was jealous about it, and while the reasons were linked to our parents, who were extremely toxic to us and kept us into this toxic environment for years on end, my sister took all her anger out on me. While we’ve discussed it as adults now, our relationships is too strained to fix it nowadays.

It took me a long while – it took me Azuma’s arc actually – to realize that the way I feel for my eldest sister is more akin to grief than to abandon. I don’t even remember her. I don’t remember her and still apparently the way I was close to her was the reason my sibling hold it against me. I couldn’t even remember *why* my sister was mad at me because I don’t even remember being close to my sister that much. All I know is that she left because the situation at home was too toxic. It was.. so messy.

I have. Much more trauma linked to that specifically but that’s the root of something that hit me in the face with Hisoka’s arc. Because I can’t remember a person that disappeared from my life, and yet it was enough for it to break and shape everything I’ve lived through since. I couldn’t even start to talk about how it still impacts me now 20 years later. I’m just now making peace with the fact this was grief. This is the gist of the reason Hisoka’s arc hit me as hard as it did (and the fact that Chikage is actively undoing all the bad things his own grief pushed him to do on Hisoka is the reason Chikage is so compelling to me. My sister could never lol.).

I felt also that I had to take all the responsibilities for what happened. I felt like I could make things easier for the family after this trauma, at the rip age of 7, and no one stopped to think maybe a child shouldn’t have to be dealing with a collective family trauma like this. But well. Here we are.

I relate to the fact Hisoka also struggles to accept everything that happened. And that now he’s trying to make things better for others people he can relate to. It’s so… complicated.

Also I can’t forget the fact Hisoka tried to kill himself and :/ as someone who has had a lot of suicidal idealization in my life this really hit a lot harder than it should have.

In general I would just say that socially I’m not really like him except with people I’m comfortable with teasing. Hisoka can be a little too rude and it’s where I can’t relate lol. But otherwise man I care him so much I feel so seen. I’m just removing 0.5 points for that and I don’t give him full mark because of what I’ll explain next.

Azuma: 10/10 This one is going to be a trip. It’s about twice the length of the Hisoka’s rant. Mister took me by the throat too. As I think it’s clear now I cannot relate to the fact he genuinely loved his family and how much his family cared for him. Yet I relate… to about everything else.

On the surface I do think I seem more approachable and easy to talk with. I try to be the kindest person I can be, to not be judgmental. I’m conflict avoidant, just like he can be, and if I’m annoyed with someone I’m muuuuch more likely to use passive aggressiveness like he does with Tasuku when he’s pissed at him. (sidenote: I do find it funny that Tasuku was the only character I really felt I didn’t get until Nocturnality, while Azuma was having the exact same problem, and then he became one of my fav the moment it clicked. Azuma is my braincell.)

More often than not, there’s a smile on my face and I try to be soft in the way I can be. I’m generally pretty calm, I’ve been told I was soothing, or give good hugs, this sort of stuff.

Now onto the heavy stuff.

I have a lot of nightmares and night terrors linked to a lot of my traumas. I’m honestly scared sometimes to go to sleep ^^”. But in general, if Hisoka reflects a lot of a personal trauma and how it would personally affect me, Azuma reflects a lot on how I would behave with others people in general and especially when I’m unwell. I’ve coped most of my life with, everything that happened to me, by just. Trying to keep people at armlength. I don’t want to let people close to me, especially irl. Discussing all of that online gives me a distance that allows me to discuss it but, I remember in high school I was going through very bad things, and a few years later I was hanging out with a friend and I happened to open up about those things. And she was going livid because, she had known me for what, 6 years at that point? And she never knew any of this. We talked a lot then, we were close, but she never knew all those things about me until years later. It kinda scared her because to her I was always a sweet and cheerful person and she never expected that I was doing this badly. I remember then she brought up something we discussed back in a party with many of our others friends from high school and similarly they were all. “how did we never know any of this.”. Seeing Azuma in Nocturnality kinda brought me back to that convo tbh LKDJFLKDFJFD.

But I’m good at pretending I’m closer to people than they think. I’m an excellent listener. A lot of my friends tended to rely on me as the person they could talk about their problems to. I used to do it much more back then but I also used to pour a lot of energy trying to make it easier for people, solving their problems. Full on Therapist Friend:tm:. It does help that, as I said with Tsumu, I have basis in psychology so sometimes some observations I can make help much more than expected. Just like Azu tbh lol.

Oh also I am cuddly with my friends in general. I’m super touch starved but also to the point I feel uncomfortable to seek hugs because I just don’t get any on a normal basis and my body isn’t used, but I’m super cuddly and when I’m with my closest friends I’m like a koala.

And it gives people the impression to people that I’m very close to them because I know them well, and I know the ins and outs of why they behave the way they do. But. I kinda feel like it’s one sided more than not. And it’s all because of me, because I keep my walls up very high and it means people don’t generally expect that I’m hiding things.

I’m good at distracting too. I don’t relate to how flirty Azuma is but I keep seeing it as him distracting others. It’s flattering, and just embarrassing enough that the person ends up dropping whatever they may be pressing on Azuma to talk about. And, while not with flirting, I do that a lot, especially using compliments like that. (That said my kindness or teasing has been misinterpreted as flirting before DLKFJDLKF I’m trying to be extra conscious about not having that misunderstanding happen nowadays but man it happened a lot).

Azuma knows a lot of people, and has been supporting a lot of people, but he doesn’t let people in as much.

And a lot of it is linked to his own sense of grief. Of the fact he has lost so much he can’t afford to go through the pain of losing something again, so he distances himself from it before it can hurt. And I do that a lot.

I mentioned in the previous rant but it’s seeing Azuma’s arc that made me understand how much it’s more grief than abandon that makes it so hard for me to move on. And a part of me kinda just. Grieves the family I could never have, the normal life I wish I could have lived and clang too all of my life. When Azuma told Guy “I was always so lonely. Everyone had families they could take for granted but I had no one.” Oh my god it destroyed me. And how he mentions just afterward that while he has new people to rely on, it couldn’t change the fact he was still feeling this pain of losing his family and it just. Man. Might be crying right now.

It’s like… I think the reason I especially related to that is that, in therapy I’ve often discussed my problems in the lenses of neglect and abandon but the problem with that lenses is that, at least with the therapists I had, they tend to focus on the fact that therefore I /must/ be still yearning for them to change and turn around, like I could change something. But I don’t. I was resigned at some point. And it’s really only when I read that that I felt this exact resignation I have been feeling all that time. I think I mentioned once how reading a3 felt like going one step toward recovery I didn’t know I could get and this was exactly the scene I meant. It legit took a weight off my heart that i've been carrying for decades. It was the strangest feeling in the world.

Anyway more in general too, on top of keeping people at distance, I am also a pro at “suddenly disappearing/ghosting when I get too close and/or have a relapse”. When Azuma starts to pull his relapses like we see in Nocturnality, I see myself. Legit had a friend who read a3 who called me out about that DLKJFDKLFJ. Acting weird like this, closing yourself in like this, coming back to some harmful coping mechanism as a way to connect back with your own self, those are all things I do. And it sucks. Like. The things I put my friends though sucks. But I really can’t help it sometimes.

I’m good at listening and observing, I’m generally good at picking up why people act a certain way, but I’m still very distant. I do everything I can to pretend I’m not distant and generally it fakes an idea of intimacy that I don’t specifically see as such.

And I see all of that in Azuma in ways that are terrifyingly relatable. Another thing Azuma says in this convo with Guy, about how “Everytime I would go to sleep, I would wish the morning would never come” me. Mood. Holy shit. Feel seen. I hate it. Just in general though the way he talks about morning as this terrifying thing is me. Between the night terrors and the fact morning genuinely makes me feel horrible, that’s kinda why I end up oversleeping until the afternoon DLKFJDF Azuma my lord I feel you.

Because of my nightly panic attacks I do try to come up with ways around it mainly by drinking some relaxing tisanes and stuff. Oh and I did have a huge period in life where I HATED being in the sun, and I fucked over all of my melanin because of that. as a kid I would tan very easily, but now the sun hates me as much as I used to hate it. So when Azuma is a drama queen about not wanting to stay in the UV too much I’m just like. How dare you pull out a mirror on me I didn’t ask for this. (also I have been called a vampire by people esp when I was a teen but that’s just how people called edgelords like me. Still. Reo my beloved.)

There is honestly so many little things with Azuma that reminds me of myself like this that it makes me go nuts. If Hisoka is who I relate to in term of specific trauma and how I cope personally, Azuma is more like, the direct physical impact of my trauma on me and the way it makes me relate to others people, as well as just every little behaviors here and there that are just so specific.

One of the only thing I really don’t relate to Azuma about is his love for Alcohol but I think if you replace it with like, my addiction to juice it works out the same.

Oh and, that’s a stupid but funny thing to me, I project hard on how much the reason he keeps his hair long is a form of mental stability for him, because I legit keep my hair long for my own mental stability. I have tied ways too much of my recovery process to my hair that when I see Azuma coping with grief with his hairstyle and how almost cutting it would be him spiraling down, I felt seen.

also i have 0 stamina just like him.

ANOTHER THING is also the fact Azuma is genuinely yearning for connections with people but he spent so much of his life keeping people away that as much as he’s yearning for it, it takes him so long to be able to lower those walls because he’s been so used to keep people away that he can’t reply to this yearning. And the way how, once he actually ends up feeling this bit of vulnerability toward people, he would suddenly shut in like it suddenly scares him? Mood.

One last thing (i promise) (i think) is that, if it wasn't obvious from all my ranting.... So much of myself and the way i view myself is defined by my trauma. I struggle to exactly come to term with my identity in any shape or form that isn't deeply related to my trauma. Even if you asked me what my sexuality is (please don't), my actual answer would be completely shaped by the fact i have so much trauma linked to sexuality, romance and gender, that i don't want to process it at all and can't actually manage to "fit the boxes" because i cannot see myself as something else than my trauma, or explain my feelings without linking it to my trauma. Honestly at times i find it kinda cringeworthy from me because i really, really can't tell about anything about my identity without thinking of my various traumas (i talked about a few of them in those rankings but it's not even the tip of the iceberg for a lot of stuff.) And when i see the way Azuma is in particular, maybe i'm projecting, but i feel like a lot of it is the same. Like not processing his age because if he does it reminds him of how he outlived those he loved (which is an headcanon but com'on.) or how even his hair is linked to his trauma. Or how he doesn't drive because it's linked to his trauma. I feel SO seen.

If it wasn’t for the fact he genuinely loved and was loved by his family, I would have felt exactly the same about everything regarding him.

But I still give him a full mark because the way Azuma’s arc has affected me is beyond any possible words I could use. And also because I legit wrote above 2100 words just on how much I related to Azuma ALONE. Even Hisoka took me 800 WORDS. HELLO. Guy: 6/10 Back to general coping here, Guy isn’t exactly relatable to me except in well. For exemple the ways the others relate to him, especially Hisoka and Azuma. So his memory loss to cope with intense family trauma is relatable to me, the way he can have nightmares and night terrors is also hella relatable to me.

But something that’s more Guy that I relate to is the whole “Step dad kept talking down on him and verbally abusing him until Guy basically completely closed himself in” because man. I won’t elaborate but I’ve really felt from reading that verbal abuse the same way I felt thinking back to how my ex-step dad used to talk to me. It made me so angry on his behalf. And the way he internalized it to cope was something deeply relatable.

Another thing with Guy is the fact that Guy did genuinely believes himself inhuman and tbh there was a time when I was very young where I would catch myself unable to feel a bit of humanity mostly from how I kept shutting myself in. (The reason I don’t relate to it with Homare is that this “inhumanity” was never actually there even if Homare did believe in it. But for Guy he went the extra mile convincing himself to the point where he denied this humanity as far as possible in a self destructive way and :/).

SO YEAH Winter is like. Therapy for me. The problem with “Trauma: The Troupe” is that saying “I relate to the Winter troupe” means “I may have problems and so what.” And it sucks.

if you read that wordvomit, congratulation, was it worth it?

Take care!

#closes eyes and pretends i didn't just type all of that for azuma ANYWAY #bows down thank you for indulging in my fav passion of 'therapy via a3' the more we go #ichafantalks a3 #pandapillow #ichareply #also man Risky Game is going to absolutly murder me isn't it.

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reds-self-ships · 3 years

Text

🔍 The Adventure of the Detection Club

Chapter 12: Opening Arguments

Table of Contents & Trigger Warnings

⚠ Chapter Specific Warnings: Contains allusions to spoilers for The Great Ace Attorney 2, as well as passing references made to blood and gore.

The next morning Central Criminal Court, Old Bailey Defendant Lobby

Ryunosuke Naruhodo quickly sorted his way through a stack of papers that made up the official court record for the case, shuffling his way through at such a speed that he looked as though he was certainly doing his best not to drop any.

Redford took a long drink from the flash of cocoa that Iris had specially prepared for him, whilst Susato kept a watch over Ryunosuke.

The door swung open with a loud crash as Sholmes barged his way into the room. “Morning, folks!” he roared.

Ryunosuke gave a yelp as he promptly dropped the pages of the court record across the floor. “Sh-Sholmes! Look at what you made me do!”

“Oh I’m terribly sorry about that Mr. Naruhodo—”

“Just help me pick these up!”

Ryunosuke fell to his knees, along with Sholmes, frantically picking them up and trying to re-organise them, all whilst Ryunosuke swore several oaths under his breath in Japanese.

“Apologies if I sound rude or anything, Susato, but is Ryunosuke always so…‘jumpy’ before a trial like this…?” Redford asked quietly.

“No…well…at least not that I’ve ever seen before…” said Susato, carefully playing with a loop of her hair.

“Me neither,” said Iris. “Normally when he’s a little anxious, his eyes dart around the room like no tomorrow. But this is definitely a new one…”

“Well it explains the way he was acting during breakfast this morning. With the way his eyes were rolling about in his skull, I thought they were going to roll out of his head or something. If I were trying to maintain eye contact with him, I think I’d’ve ended up giving up.”

The bailiff suddenly appeared from the entrance and called: “Now hearing the case of Regina V. Ninate, will all parties please report to courtroom no. 3 immediately!”

Just in time, Ryunosuke managed to get the papers together and get the court record back into its cardboard folder again.

“That’s our cue, Mr. Naruhodo,” said Susato.

“Well, I’ll be cheering you on from the dock. Good luck, you two!” said Redford with a bow.

Sholmes flicked the front rim of his hat. “And likewise, we’ll be cheering you on from the gallery!”

Iris flicked the front of her own forehead. “Good luck, everybody!”

——————————

The judge hit his gavel several times to bring the chattering of the gallery to a close, before clearing his throat and pushing his pince-nez glasses up his nose.

“Court is now in session for the trial of Redford Ninate!” he announced.

“The defence is ready, milord!” exclaimed Ryunosuke with a start.

“The prosecution is more than prepared, milord,” said Abidon, looking over the top of his half-moon glasses.

“And you,” continued the judge, “our six members of the jury, randomly chosen from citizens across the city of London, are you ready?”

The first juror, a young woman with her short and curly brown hair tied up with a red and white spotted handkerchief, rolled up a sleeve and flexed her bicep. “Ready and riveting to go!”

The second juror, a rather frail-looking old man dressed in a black suit and tall top-hat, stroked his sharp triangular chin with a bony hand. “I’m ready to commit the facts of this case to loving memory…kept in the grace of God’s right hand.”

The third juror, a familiar-looking Japanese man in a brown kimono with messy black hair and moustache, with several cats climbing over him, struck various poses. “I! AM! READY! BANZAI!”

The fourth juror, a tall man with black finely-combed hair in a widow’s peak and an aquiline nose, removed a pipe from the pocket of his dressing gown and began to smoke it. “I am ready to perceive the truth behind this case.”

The fifth juror, a man in a black tuxedo, top-hat with a purple band and a matching-coloured waistcoat stroked his moustache after he fiddled with his monocle. “I, the great Horace Velmont, will give everything that I can to this case!”

Finally, the sixth juror, a young girl with a black and white striped sweater, a mask covering the top part of her face and a black knitted cap on her head, said: “Yeah! I’m ready to go, guv’na!”

The judge nodded his head. “Excellent. Prosecutor Abidon, isn’t it?”

“Yes, milord?”

“You may begin with your opening statement.”

Ryunosuke looked around the courtroom nervously.

(It’s been a while since I’ve last been here. I just hope I’m able to get Redford off of these charges…for his sake…)

He looked over to Redford, sat in the defendant’s chair in the dock. And as he did so, Redford winked.

(Oh my heart…!)

“Mr. Naruhodo? Are you sure that you’re OK?” whispered Susato. “You’re looking at Red in the face.”

“Eh—sorry?”

“I said: ‘Are you OK? You’re looking a little red in the face’.”

“Is everything alright, defence?” asked the judge.

“Defence, you are aware that talking over the prosecution whilst it is attempting to make its opening argument is rude, arrogant and something that could lead to you being removed from this courtroom for contempt of court?” said Abidon with a glare. “I’m not sure how you Japanese like to do things, but it is the way we British people do things in this sacred court of law, and it is to be respected and heeded.”

��Sorry!” exclaimed Ryunosuke with a start. “Carry on. As you were…”

(Oh great! A smaller, jumped up, discounted-version of Lord van Zieks…that’s just what we really need right about now…)

“As I was about to say before I was so rudely interrupted…” said Abidon as he unfurled a scroll and held it in front of him. “The victim in this case was a Mr. Harris Thomas, a member of the same organisation as the defendant—known as ‘The Detection Club’, an organisation for crime writers to meet and work on their crime novels I believe.

“The victim had been expelled from the club for missed payment of membership fees, and a new member, Dexter Collins, was due to be inaugurated into the club the day before yesterday through a special ceremony. A ceremony that the defendant himself was placed in charge of organising and arranging.

“The defendant arranged ahead of time that he was to meet with the victim to formally inform him of his expulsion at the same time as began these ceremonial preparations. The prosecution, therefore, asserts that the defendant did, with malicious intent and malice of forethought, met with the victim beforehand and killed him unlawfully.

“He did so by hitting him repeatedly over the head with this—” Abidon reached under the prosecution’s bench and took out the alleged murder weapon, holding it high for the benefit of the court. “—this skull, which serves as a mascot for the club, affectionately referred to as ‘Norman’.”

“Oh my! An actual human skull? How frightening!” exclaimed the judge. “Still, how can you assert that it was the defendant who committed this horrifying crime?”

“Because, milord,” replied Abidon, “the defendant was the only one who had a key to this locked room mystery—the only door to the room is several inches thick and designed to be entirely impenetrable, as is the rest of the room. The windows are only able to open a few centimetres in width, and the entire room is located on the third floor of a building on High Window Avenue. And a cursory investigation has proven that there is no way for anybody to hide themselves within the room.”

“Very compelling evidence, I must admit.”

“HOLD IT!”

“If that is the case,” said the second juror, “I believe that we may finally be able to put this matter to rest. Dearly beloved, let us join hands together in prayer to mourn this defendant’s hopeless case. A truly, tragic death, indeed!”

With a knock of his hand against the jury bench, a fireball flew through the air and landed into the “guilty” side of the giant set of scales behind the judge, tilting them towards the right.

(Yikes! Already it’s not looking good!)

“An excellent opening argument indeed, Sir Prosecutor, but not necessarily one that would be enough to force a conviction in my opinion,” said the fourth juror, tenting his fingers together. “However, I would wish to hear more on this matter. It is only whenever we have eliminated every possible lead that we may know for certain what, exactly, has transpired.”

“I am inclined to agree with Juror #4,” said the judge with a nod.

Abidon nodded back in response.

“I acknowledge that particular fact, milord. As such, the prosecution would now like to call its first witnesses to the stand—Detective Athelney Jones of Her Majesty’s Metropolitan Police Service and Dr. Yujin Mikotoba, the police’s current acting chief coroner and medical examiner.”

#the adventure of the detection club #stories #fics #self insert #OTP: Red Dragon

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readysetstarker · 5 years

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Idea For your phone sex fix which I love Peter accidentally hits the face time button while getting off with his eyes closed

see, anon, i promised you an accidental face reveal, and i am delivering! set from tony’s pov.

Warnings: 19-year-old Peter, as I usually do. Underage drinking, phone sex, dry humping, masturbation, accidental face reveal, daddy kink. Consider this a gift from me to you if you’ve ever reblogged, commented, or messaged me lovely things about this little AU. You’re all dolls.

Tag list: @strawberryparkers, @hoe4parker, @deliciousflapbanditfarm, @idontfeelsogoodmrspock, @srrnnrrs, @carttorchdeatth, @starkerhowlter, @starkeristhenameshippingismygame, @awesomeimportantfan, @itsjustmeowrooh, @starkravingspiders, @subverbaldreams, @alicerose13, @this-starker-hoe, @moderndayqueenofscots, @prettyboy-parker, @sadbumblingmess, @winter-starker, @am-i-spiderman

if i missed you, i’m sorry! i just went by what i saw in the notes and reblogs of previous parts. there’s a part 4 coming up next, and you can leave a reply or reblog to let me know you’re interested in being tagged in the next update!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

—

Another day, another night of Tony’s sweet baby boy Peter calling him for some stress relief. Tony could never admit it if someone were to ask, but he was starting to look forward to Peter’s calls. They were the only ones he really got himself off to, the only time he felt compelled to pull his cock out and stroke it to the sound of another person coming.

And fuck, did he have a pretty voice. Climbing octaves when he released and moaning so dirty in his ear when he called Tony Daddy. Tony tried not to think of the time a female client called him that while she was masturbating, nor how quickly his cock had softened for her.

For Peter, though, he might be able to get his refractory period from his college days back.

Tony would be flat-out lying if he said that he hadn’t tried to picture what the kid looked like, sweaty and drunk on arousal, fucking himself silly and moaning Tony’s name like it was the only thing tethering him to existence. He wanted to know how the kid looked when he came, or how his face would light up when he smiled or, or…

He groaned as he looked at the familiar number on his screen. He was so screwed.

For his baby, though, he’d didn’t mind.

Tony answered the phone and barely got a word in before a very slurred and giggly voice greeted him with a loud, “Hey there, Daadddyyyy.” Tony’s mouth fell open on a greeting stopped cold by the voice in his ear. He took a moment to listen to the tittering on the other end before smothering a reprimand.

“Pete,” he said slowly, “have you been drinking?”

“Mm-hm,” came the pleased reply, and that was followed by a few more giggles. “Went to a house party, lost two rounds of beer pong.”

“Two rounds?” Tony rubbed his forehead. “Baby, you are going to have so much regret in the morning. Drink some water, take an antacid, and go to bed. You can call me if you want tomorrow night, but you need to sleep that drunkenness off.”

“Don’ wanna.” Tony didn’t need to see Peter’s face to know he was pouting. His voice was an open book, even more so now that he wasn’t sober. Tony could hear the squeak of box springs, meaning he likely was too inebriated to maintain his balance and flopped over. At least it wasn’t the floor; small miracles.

“I wanted to see you, Daddy. I missed you so much.”

Tony let out a heavy breath, although he couldn’t help the amused scoff. “Yeah, I missed you too. You mentioned having midterms recently. Is that why you went out and got plastered?”

“Maaaybe,” Peter all but sang into the speaker.

Tony wondered just how bad the hangover was going to be, since Peter was now intermittently giggling through his words. They slurred and morphed together as they tumbled from his lips, but Tony had little problem deciphering his words. He’d been through enough benders himself to be able to understand drunken rambling. Peter’s was a cakewalk.

Still, it didn’t make him feel better that Peter was drunk in the first place.

“You should sleep, baby. We can talk tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait that long. I need you.”

Peter gave a little whimper at the last word, and Tony hated that his cock twitched with interest. His ear was filled with little breaths and moans. Tony’s mind betrayed him with the image of his baby rolling his hips into the bed, fucking against the friction he could get, and he crossed his legs after another interested twitch from his member. It certainly didn’t help that Peter was now moaning his name, begging him.

Tony chewed on his bottom lip.

“You sure, baby?” he asked.

“Yesss. Yes, please, Daddy. I missed you so bad.”

Tony inwardly cursed and palmed his traitorous cock. Peter was going to be the death of him. Swore on his life.

That thought certainly didn’t stop him from giving himself a squeeze and rubbing his palm down onto himself. It was nice to hear Peter’s voice again. Nearly a month of radio silence from him, only for him to reappear drunk but horny as ever and begging for Tony to fuck him. He almost felt sorry, taking Peter like this. He would have to call Pepper back and ask her to refund the poor kid’s money when they were finished. The guilt would eat him alive otherwise.

For now, he had a brat to deal with.

“Are you touching yourself, baby boy?” he asked, rolling his hips up into his palm. Even with his moment of inner turmoil, his dick hadn’t flagged a bit. Tony wasn’t sure what that said about him. “You fucking your little fist for me?”

“Mm-hm,” Peter whimpered, breath hitching. “Feels so good, Daddy. Wish it was you.”

“Does it, baby? You feel good?” At Peter’s affirmative moan, Tony sharply said, “Stop, Peter.”

Peter whined, all but sobbing into Tony’s ear. He wanted it so bad, wanted to come, wanted his Daddy to fuck him. But Tony knew he wanted to be a good boy, to obey his Daddy, to make him happy. He still complained, though, and Tony let him.

Tony undid his belt and slipped his hand into his boxers to palm at the half-mast erection pressing against the tight confines of his jeans. He listened intently to the bratty whining on the other end and squeezed around himself.

“Shh, baby. You’ll get what you want. But you have to be punished first,” Tony cooed. It took every ounce of his self-control to not work his dick furiously and come to the sound of Peter’s high-pitched Daddy, please.

“You went out drinking when you know you’re too young, and then you called up your Daddy while drunk, and for what? A booty call. Misbehaving deserves a fitting punishment, don’t you think so, baby boy?”

Peter just hummed an answer rather than using his words, but it was good enough for Tony. He let himself groan into the speaker, let Peter hear him while he worked himself until he was hard. He wondered how Peter was reacting to this, if his hair was a mess and his eyes unfocused the way Tony imagined him.

Would he chew on his lip while waiting for commands?

“You wanna come, don’t you, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy. Please let me.”

“Yeah?” Tony pulled himself out of his underwear, flushed and red and leaking pre onto his fingertips. “Then put a pillow between your legs and rut like the little slut you are. That’s how you’re getting off tonight, if you want to get off at all.”

Peter’s voice broke on a moan. Tony could hear him rustling around on the other end. He wondered briefly what Peter was wearing, thinking he should have asked earlier so he could at least imagine the boy’s body, but that thought was abandoned the moment Peter gave him a shaky breath. He could almost hear the way his boy was moving his hips against whatever cushion he had put between his thighs.

“Did you remove your underwear?” he asked.

“No, should I—”

“Keep them on. If you’re going to start this call sloppy, you can finish it that way, too.”

Peter keened and Tony hoped he was grinding against his pillow like asked, his little mewls of pleasure perfectly timed with each lazy and desperate thrust of his hips. Tony squeezed himself on the upstroke, moaning deep in his throat, eyes slipping shut to the symphony in his ear. Peter had a voice he could listen to for the rest of his life.

The audio clipped out suddenly, as if the connection between them had been cut off. Tony stopped masturbating, pulling his phone away just enough to look at the screen. Did the kid hang up on him, or did one of them drop the call? His phone screen was black. Maybe hadn’t charged it that morning like he thought, and the damn thing had just died on him.

Or, he realized when his phone screen lit back up, maybe it was something else.

Like Peter, his baby boy, accidentally hitting the FaceTime option on his phone and giving Tony the perfect view of what he looked like half-dressed in a baggy red sweatshirt and his underwear, and his face pressed into a mattress.

And accidentally letting Tony see his pretty little face scrunched up in aroused desperation as he rolled his hips down onto the white pillow nestled snug between his thighs. God, he was gorgeous. Young, with thick brown hair now disheveled and messy and wet bitten-red lips opened in a silent moan. His brows were pulled tight in concentration, face relaxing as his pitch rose and he said, “Daddy.”

Tony’s mouth fell open as well, blinking as he tried to will himself to wake up from a dream. He had a face for the name, for the voice that had been moaning in his ear and sweetly calling him Daddy for nearly three months. And he looked like that.

His dick stirred again, fully interested in the display hypnotizing him as Peter ground against the pillow and moaned again. The phone must have been on speaker the entire time. One hand was holding the phone out in front of him, possibly unaware of the button he had pressed, while the other twisted his dark blue bedding in a white-knuckled fist. The angle, though, gave him a perfect view of how Peter’s back arched and his ass presented in the air.

“Holy shit,” he moaned, unable to stop himself. He panicked, then, trying to see if his own face was visible in the call. He put a finger over his phone’s camera just in case, and against his better judgement, continued watching his baby try to get himself off. “Fuck, baby, are you close?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Peter said, and fuck, watching him actually say the word was a completely different experience. Tony found himself wrapping his fingers around the base of his shaft to keep from immediately blowing his load. “It’s good, but I need to come.”

Tony wanted to watch him come, watch how that beautiful face would pinch together at the peak of his pleasure. He wanted to watch Peter fall apart, to know how he looked when he fell over that precipice of pleasure. He had heard the boy do so before, had brought him there with his voice and commands alone. To watch him do so would be priceless.

Unfortunately, Tony never got to see it.

Peter opened his eyes (brown, they’re fucking brown, like a glass of perfectly-aged scotch) and realization broke through his haze of arousal and alcohol. He realized his face was being recorded, although Tony’s camera was completely covered, and he scrambled to turn it off.

The call ended, and Tony was left staring at his now-blank phone screen with his dick still achingly hard in his hand. He couldn’t get Peter’s face out of his head, in that moment just before he realized he was live, pleasure taking over him and leaving him a mess against his bed sheets. He could imagine that face now, lip jutting out in a pout as he begged Tony to let him come.

It wouldn’t be the first or the last time he jerked himself off in his shower while thinking of his baby boy, of Peter becoming a writhing mess beneath him. But this time was different. He could close his eyes and imagine his spunk painting the defined features of Peter’s cheeks white instead having to watch it wash down the drain.

#starker #ironspider #peter parker x tony stark #my work #phone sex au #dinner's ready!!#Anonymous

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felicityfiction · 4 years

Text

[bulletproof glass part 4] part 3

a/n: its 5am. i needed a study break. this is terrible. im very disappointed in myself but also not sure if i can put anything out thats better. i have failed, please dont hate me :(

god, do they even teach them how to shoot?

san smirks, easily dodging a badly aimed bullet from a poorly hidden sniper. not really a sniper at all, if you ask him. just someone too cowardly to come down and face the action on the ground.

weakness.

in the chaos of a building carpark, there are guns blazing and shouts echoing, the occasional yell of pain or shattering of glass as these terribly trained excuses of henchmen hit a car instead of their intended human target.

it’s music to san’s ears.

to his left, he registers seonghwa, barrelling towards him with a wholehearted intention to get him into a car and to safety, but san is just starting to have fun.

he takes down two guys who have at least a foot on him, but he barely breaks a sweat. adrenaline is pumping through his veins, and he thinks that maybe he doesn’t have to smoke tonight to be able to get high.

this is his drug. san is addicted to the danger of it all. it’s messy and wonderful, a dance that is ingrained into san’s brain and burned into his muscle from years of first hand experience. choi san is talented, and he’s about to show it.

he sees seonghwa veer sharply to his right, and he spares a glance in his direction. just in time to see seonghwa gun down two guys who were surrounding hongjoong, trying to take him down. the leader was to be captured alive, no doubt, to be used as leverage. if his father was here, these guys would be all over him like hyenas to a carcass. but he isn’t, content to let san and seonghwa handle tonight’s minor matters.

he’s mine.

the words thrum in his ears, fuelling his slightly fatigued muscles to keep going until all their enemies were down. he was the next in line to inherit the choi name, and he sure as hell was going to make his name known to everyone in the underground.

and perhaps the child in him still preens under his father’s praise, and he’s greedy for more.

but san is amused by the sight of seonghwa fumbling in his attempt to get to hongjoong, his usual grace lost in his worry. he almost reaches out to hongjoong, then freezes and recoils like hongjoong at shot him. san feels a stab of pity, but also a brief inkling of scorn

this is what affection does to you.

hongjoong had come with few guards, despite knowing that there was a high chance that this deal would go south. perhaps he trusted san more than he let on, or he thought that san had a bigger target on his back, and he would be able to escape unscathed if it came down to it

or, san thinks, maybe he knows someone here will die to protect him.

a hand comes flying out of nowhere, barely missing san’s face, and san whips around faster than lightning. he grabs the wrist, and is about to twist and snap it when he registers the face in front of him. a smile curls onto his face.

“we’re allies here, did you forget? how can it be acceptable to try and take me out?”

“wasn’t trying to take you out. distracted. person shooting. wanted to get your attention.” yunho is speaking in breathless pants, sweat beading on his forehead. he grabs san and tugs, and san finds himself going willingly. he lets himself get pushed behind a pillar, as yunho scans for more aggressive men in black.

there’s a feeling san can’t pinpoint blooming in his chest, and he shoves it away, letting his god awful flirtatious nature come up as a defence.

“so sweet of you, darling. but you look more tired than me. i’d have been perfectly fine, but i appreciate the sentiment.”

yunho doesn’t realise he’s stilll holding san’s wrist, too busy being on the lookout.

“shut up.” he scowls

san sees a brief release of tension in yunho’s shoulders when he spots hongjoong safe, a few meters away surrounded by the remainder of his guards.

“you should go join them, sweetheart. it’s time for you to flee.”

yunho’s eyes snap towards him, and he angrily spits, “we’re not fleeing, you bastard.”

san wants to laugh again, because infruriating yunho is so, so enjoyable. “i didn’t mean anything. they’re all gone, anyway. we won. no point staying around for the cleanup.” he lifts his wrist to yunho’s eyes, and they widen exponentially. yunho drops his wrist and steps back, putting some distance between him and san. san decides he preferred it when yunho was pressed against him.

yunho makes to walk away towards a gesturing hongjoong, but san’s the one to reach out this time.

“thank you, yunho. i appreciate it.” yunho seems surprised by the sincereity that laces san’s words, but he quickly reminds himself that san is more than a proficient liar. he pushes san’s hand off his wrist, suddenly wishing he hadn’t tried to help.

stupid, stupid yunho.

“and don’t worry, baby. you always have my attention.”

and there it is, classic san. can’t have a conversation without dropping some kind of comment that made yunho’s skin crawl. yunho flinches, and walks away. san is staring after him, his lips upturned.

yunho picks his way through the bodies littered on the ground, trying to ignore both the vast amounts of blood, and the way that his ears are burning.

if hongjoong notices how red he is, he presumes that it’s from the physical exertion. he’s scanning yunho for injuries, relieved to find none. regardless, he pushes yunho towards the car, ready to take him away from everything and shelter him as best he can.

he shouldn’t have brought him here in the first place.

hongjoong can’t help the deep tug in his gut that compels him to look around once more before stepping into the car.

seonghwa is rushing towards san, and san is smiling so broadly it disturbs hongjoong. he’s certain that san is a psychopath, or at least someone who enjoys witnessing pain. or maybe he’s so desensitized that this has all become a game for him.

either way, hongjoong darts his eyes down and gets into the car. he pretends that the relief flooding his chest is for himself, for yunho and for his other men. not for the bodyguard of his rival gang leader, who just so happened to perhaps have saved his life.

fuck this.

hongjoong is absolutely fucking screwed.

yunho spends the same car ride trying to forget the deep voice echoing in his ears and the hand around his wrist. he’s all too aware that he was frantically searching for san the entire time the fight was happening, barely registering his members. he should feel guilty, he knows, and he berates himself fiercely.

why yunho, why? he’s a sadistic monster, he could have killed you and called it an accident!

but somehow, yunho can’t bring himself to regret that he threw himself in front of a guy that could very well be holding a gun to his temple in the near future.

yunho is also, absolutely fucking screwed

“he tried to help me, hwa. isn’t that so cute? i could’ve taken all of them blindfolded, but it’s still adorable.”

seonghwa purses his lips, a sharp pang striking a chord in his heart.

san is sitting on his desk, swinging his legs back and forth as he recounts the night to him, nevermind that seonghwa was supposed to be the one delivering the report.

“that’s the first time someone besides me has done that for you, san.” seonghwa says quietly, more to himself than to san. but his charge, his friend, hears it anyway.

“i’m attractive, hwa. what can i say? you tried to play hero too. good job on that, by the way.”

seonghwa flinches at the reminder. it was too close for comfort, the way hongjoong had been a split second from being overpowered, and seonghwa had moved before he had time to think.

“i’m sorry for getting distracted.” he had failed. seonghwa was supposed to protect san, yet he had some kind of messed up tunnel vision and sixth sense that led him to jump to the defence of someone he isn’t even supposed to associate with-

“don’t apologise. i’m a better fighter than you, or him. i didn’t need it.”

i forgive you. i understand. don’t worry, you did the right thing.

that’s how they communicate. with hidden meanings and the hope that the other party understands.

in spite of everything that went down, seonghwa’s frantic about one thing, and one thing above all.

it absolutely terrifies him how choi san is whistling a happy tune from his lips recounting the way jung yunho had tried to press him into a wall for his own safety. san chalks it all up to nothing, but seonghwa sees more. san isn’t just amused, he’s happy.

he’s happy that jung yunho had tried to save him.

it’s mortifying, seeing this unknown emotion on san. seonghwa knows how to deal with an angry san, a drunk san and an indifferent san. seonghwa knows san.

but seonghwa has never seen san care. and it sure as hell feels like san is starting to care.

“would you have done it?” he whispers, and san trails off, narrowing his eyes at him.

“what are you talking about?”

“would you have jumped in front of a gun to save him?” seonghwa bites his lip. please, please say something snarky and cocky and arrogant.

“i’d just shoot the source of danger, hwa. have you lost your touch? can’t protect someone if i’m dead, now can i? remember that next time, i doubt hongjoong would want to see you die in front of him.”

seonghwa’s ears are ringing.

protect someone? san, since when have you ever wanted to protect someone? everyone is disposable to you, no? why him? why now?

but seonghwa swallows all his words, and san continues on his painfully oblivious humming. he can’t even tell that this emotion is new and different. he can’t tell that his mind is drifting to a hand gripping his wrist, and the pressure of another body pressed against his.

word of the day: endearment. maybe san would do good to learn some new vocabulary, so he can put a label to that weird sensation in his chest, and his burning desire to see jung yunho again.

maybe, san would come to his senses. seonghwa can only hope.

#ateez #fanfic #kpop #ao3 #yunsan #choi san #jung yunho #seongjoong #ateez seonghwa #park seonghwa #kim hongjoong

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sokkathebluewolf · 3 years

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A review Why you do that? Making Sokka mention 28 in his vows now everyone think he slept around after the best time of his life? They both dont deserve this June slaves Hina Tylee now this Please don't make more girls fall for him involve with him feels like the whole fic turned around this Haru deserves better Tylee is flirting around

Don't get me wrong This is your fic and you can do anything you feel fit I'm merely giving an opinion ''cause Gladiator has things which you handled the best There is a Reason for this success I just hope this plus 1 girl thing in Sokkla relationship Stops But I always respect you with your great work(:

You do realize how utterly laughable it is to tell me “DON’T MAKE MORE GIRLS FALL FOR HIM IT FEELS LIKE THE WHOLE FIC IS TURNING AROUND” and then say “you can do anything you feel fit, I respect your work (:”, right?

This is not respect. This is not “constructive criticism”. This is not an opinion so important and valuable that it warrants being repeated about a million times across A YEAR. Most people? They give out their opinions, negative or positive, ONE TIME, and leave it be, because what matters to them is CONVEYING how they feel, not forcing a writer to constantly explain themselves or write whatever they would be comfortable with. Actually? Most people who have given me negative opinions so far have been like that, except one guy who was outright flaming my story because he wanted to wank to it, and he couldn’t believe he had to read 97 chapters to finally reach the smut. That I’m comparing you to this reader and reviewer is PROBABLY a bad sign, don’t you think?

Sokka didn’t MENTION 28: Sokka acknowledged his past mistakes because he’s a grown man who knows to feel remorse when he hurts people he loves. That he brings up having hurt her, to this day, isn’t in the purpose of going “HEY HEY AZULA REMEMBER WHEN I BROKE YOUR HEART LOL”, it’s in the purpose of saying: “I’ve learned from my mistakes and, as it has been for YEARS, I will devote myself to NEVER hurting you again”. That, anon, is a PERFECTLY VALID SENTIMENT for a wedding vow, and one that requires far more character growth and complexity than “Lol I’m so happy we were both virgins because that is the only kind of pure love that has ever been valid in the universe, anything else doesn’t count”.

Hell, you’ve literally made me go right back to the chapter to look at what he says, exactly: “I messed things up between us over my damn stupidity”, he... is literally beating himself up about this. To this day. He’s not talking about it proudly. And yet you’re here complaining as though he were?

SPOILER: More people will have feelings for Sokka in future chapters. In fact, I want to make it even MORE people than I’d originally planned after receiving all these asks. I’d rather derail my story into something you can’t stomach reading than cater to you. Azula will outright JOKE about being “jealous” in a future chapter, and Sokka will know it’s a joke! :D And I’m NOT lying about this to mess with you, it IS going to happen and your persistent asks absolutely WON’T make me alter my content. And why is it going to happen, you’ll ask? Why, because nice, charming, charismatic guys like Sokka attract people whether they want to or not. It’s what they DO about attracting others what matters to me! :’) And that Sokka rejects other people who attempt to be with him should be, I think, a much more important message about loyalty to someone you love than “I ONLY EVER ATTRACTED ONE PERSON IN MY LIFE AND MARRIED THEM”. Because I know that’s virtually the only thing you appear willing to accept, going by the first ask.

And holy crap, Ty Lee is... flirting around? Flirting around... with Haru. The guy she’s in a committed relationship with, whom she’s going to marry. The whole situation is meant to be insanely ironic considering Ty Lee is with the guy she SHOULD be with but it looks like it’s something else? (Hell, nobody even KNOWS it was Ty Lee, Mei Xun didn’t stick around long enough to discover the woman’s identity, so her reputation’s actually safe?) But you’re just so emotionally compromised by anything regarding Sokka being with anyone else, even if it’s 1. not true because he’s MILES away, with Azula 2. a joke 3. a plot device for a FUTURE EVENT, that you just can’t grasp this irony at all?

Ty Lee, by design in this story, has ALWAYS been pretty damn liberal about flirting and relationships. Despite we’ve mainly just heard such relationships mentioned on the side, rather than witnessing them directly, she is objectively the cast member who’s had the most relationships, whether serious or casual or just occasional, with other people. And even then, she’s getting married. Even when she’s had so many people in her past, she’s settling down with Haru for good. And Haru? Haru is THRILLED. Because he loves her. Because she loves him. Because HER past does NOT have a single thing to do with THEIR future. And yet you seriously read these chapters, where Ty Lee is having a lot of fun with her fiancé, and your brain just translated this as “OMG TY LEE IS A SLUT HARU DESERVES BETTER!”? Seriously?

I feel like I’m getting asks from a childish version of Drax from Guardians of the Galaxy. Everything that isn’t straightforward needs to be explained point by point, apparently, and even then, you don’t get it. I literally went to literature school and was told to write intelligent fiction so readers would feel compelled to unravel its complexities themselves... apparently that was a big fat lie? :’) Your persistence actually has convinced me that it is.

Oh and, for future reference (because I KNOW you’ll come back, that’s all you ever do): not because you throw compliments at me later to “cushion” your complaint does it mean you’re respecting me and my story. You can’t slap someone in the face and then go “Oh your cheeks are so plump that I bet it doesn’t hurt”. You can’t just disregard my request that you keep these sorts of questions to my PERSONAL blog rather than the fic’s blog, and pretend you respect me. You can’t come to me time after time with the same complaints and attitude, watch how I’ve basically gone from initially responding with discomfort (because, in my personal blog, there are MANY asks that predate yours, where I’d already explained my reasoning to someone else who apparently didn’t get it, which means the subject wears me out, A LOT), then seeing that I started ignoring your asks, then seeing I closed the inbox so I could regain some sense of normalcy in my life that you refused to let me reclaim, and then seeing that I’m answering with outright hostility, and pretend that it’s ME who has a problem.

If someone I respected responded in any similar manner to ANYTHING I said to them, I’d basically feel like shit and never talk to them again because I don’t want to be a burden or a problem for someone whom I value in any way. You, apparently, would rather be a problem, and to no avail, because all you’re achieving so far is convincing me to continue writing things that will make you riot until you stop reading my story. If you CAN’T stop reading regardless of the horrifying, amoral, dreadful decisions I’ve made? Congratulations: you still don’t have the right to tell me what to do with my story. And until you GENUINELY understand that, your compliments don’t mean anything to me. I have readers I value who have conveyed complaints, MANY TIMES, in an actual respectful manner. Readers who are even bothered by the same thing you are. And yet I’m even FRIENDS with them. Imagine that :’) It’s almost like the problem isn’t having whatever opinion you do... but rather, the intent of IMPOSING your opinion constantly and persistently until you’ve driven me to lash out as bluntly and cruelly as I may! To the point I’m outright saying I’m going to rewrite my story into becoming EVERYTHING you don’t want it to be so you leave me alone!

And if you’re not the one who’s been here for a year, and this is not really an echo chamber (despite all of these messages have the same complaints, wording, tone, format, style, punctuation and grammar mistakes), yet you SAW that other people have been doing this for a long time, and thought it was PERFECTLY FINE to join the party? You’re no less of an asshole than the rest of them. No matter if it’s your first time voicing your “opinion”. Because it’s NOT about what you’re saying: it’s about HOW you’re saying it. It’s about trying to guilt trip me into writing whatever you want and claiming the story is going off the rails because something makes you personally uncomfortable. This is NOT objective criticism. This is SUBJECTIVE, ENTIRELY. This isn’t a real problem in storytelling, it’s a personal problem for you because it clashes with your moral values. And NO ONE is forcing you to continue consuming content that goes against your moral values, you’re choosing to do that yourself.

If you’re to live by any of the words you said in these two asks, make it “This is your fic and you can do anything you feel fit”. Because that’s literally what I’m going to do. It’s what I’ve done over EVERY complaint in poor faith I’ve gotten, ranging from “quit writing so much happiness it’s boring” to “where’s the sex you prude”. And it’s what I intend to continue doing. What kind of criticism do I value? “This particular scene features a factually contradictory line with a previous event”, such as Zuko claiming he never went to Sokka’s house when he in fact did, and I plain and simple FORGOT about it. What more kinds of criticism do I value? “You need to work out the Gladiator League’s system better because it’s not a solid business venture”, and this one was right? And yet it was too late to fix it, despite it’s 100% spot-on and I should’ve worked it out way better than I did. Another? “Sokka may have gotten over the fact that Azula captured him and tossed him in a slave market too easily”, because? It’s a perfectly valid sentiment? I disagree because Sokka is canonically shown to get over grudges relatively quickly, and yet I CAN see why it seems too fast for some people. What else do I value? Maybe suggestions on wording problems! I’ve made a lot of stupid wording mistakes, in virtue of being a non-native speaker. I’ve done my best to amend those, but it’s a work in progress even now.

Point and case being: in literature, and thus, in fanfiction? Constructive criticism isn’t “WRITE WHAT I WANT TO READ BECAUSE I WANT TO BE PERFECTLY COMFORTABLE WITH ALL I CONSUME”. Constructive criticism is given by people who KNOW storytelling. So I’d only consider it constructive criticism if it’s given by people who can read those chapters and see that the ENTIRE purpose of that conflict is to trigger growth and development as both Sokka and Azula realize their own mistakes and shortcomings with each other. So, someone who’s giving actual constructive criticism wouldn’t come to my inbox a million times with the same complaint... someone who’s giving constructive criticism would come to my inbox, ONE TIME, and say “Hey, maybe this alternative to conveying Azula is instinctively jealous over her canonical insecurities about being a monster and earning people’s love and loyalties COULD have been preferable, despite I know you can’t change that anymore as it’s fundamental for your story”, or “Hey, I thought of another way for Sokka to convey that he realized their interest in each other could result in something TERRIBLE if they ever acted on their feelings, a way for him to not act on that specific impulse to flirt with Suki to push away Azula, but to act on ANOTHER, believable, IC Sokka-compliant impulse that might still convey exactly what you needed to”. But again, even if it were complaints like THESE? I can’t change anything anymore. It’s TOO LATE. If I think it’s too late to fix Zuko saying “lol I never went to Sokka’s house” when it’s not true? It’s WAY TOO LATE to rewrite chapters that are over SEVEN years old, and I don’t even want to do it to begin with. But I WOULD concede these criticisms. I would accept them. I wouldn’t consider them offensive to me, or my work, or disrespectful in any way.

Constructive criticism is NOT about forcing an author to agree with you, or to do whatever you ask them to. Constructive criticism is about helping an author convey what they were conveying in a better, smoother way. If you CAN’T understand what the author was conveying? You don’t qualify for offering constructive criticism. If you need explanations as to why the author did anything they did? You’re, again, not qualified to offer constructive criticism. Your criticism, in any such cases, is NOT constructive, no matter what you’re telling yourself. This is a VERY important distinction, and one you can’t pretend isn’t valid just by throwing a bunch of compliments at me after telling me I’m ruining my story.

Until the day you DO understand the difference between constructive criticism, and subjective complaints? Your opinions will not be considered valuable enough to affect my story in a positive way. And the more disrespectful you show yourself, by continuing to disregard my DIRECT request for you to stop coming back with these complaints, as well as the direct request to stop sending these questions to this blog? The less your opinions will count for me. I don’t bend over backwards for anyone. And I’m definitely not going to do it for you.

#anon #ask #how long will it be this time #before you return?#I should hold a betting poll #I might actually become rich #that'd be the only silver lining for all the crap you've given me for a year

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