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startears0153 · 4 months

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☾ Seeing you cry in your sleep

How they react to finding you crying silently in your sleep.

☾ Characters: Argenti, Blade, Dan Heng, Dr. Ratio

☾ Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, GN Reader, StellaronHunter!Reader in Blade's, Ratio (affectionately) calling you fool in his part

Might write a 2nd part with Gepard, Jing Yuan, Welt and Luocha (and maybe Sampo) in the future :)

Argenti

Upon entering your shared cottage, Argenti finds you sleeping on the chair by the window. They must’ve fallen asleep while admiring the scenery of the falling snow outside, Argenti thought with a fond smile.

For a moment, Argenti found himself unable to move, for his emerald colored eyes were transfixed upon the serene beauty of the scene before him. The falling snow, the white winter wonderland serving as the perfect backdrop to accentuate the beauty of your resting figure.

Still, he realized it probably wouldn’t do well if you were to fall sick from the cold. So, he quietly made his way through the room and draped a blanket over your figure.

That was when he noticed the presence of tears on the corners of your eyes.

For a while, Argenti thought his eyes were deceiving him. It wasn’t until he saw a lone tear fall from your eye that he was finally hit by the fact that you were, indeed, crying in your sleep.

His heart ached upon the sight and he instinctively reached to cup your cheek; his thumb gently caressing the corner of your eye, wiping away the stream of tears that began to fall like tender snow.

After some deliberation on how to proceed, Argenti would kneel before your sleeping figure before carefully stirring you awake with a gentle squeeze to your hand and softly calling out your name.

“Good morning my dear,” He would greet you with a tender smile, though you could easily sense the twinge of sadness and melancholia lingering in his voice. “I apologize if this may sound unpleasant to you but … you were crying in your sleep. Is … Is everything alright?”

He would fret over you, but he would try to keep it to a minimum lest he were to accidentally do more harm than good. He was obviously worried about what ailed you, but again, what mattered most to him was your comfort.

Regardless of whether you choose to speak of the reason for your tears, Argenti would remain by your side, kneeling before you as he held your hand in his.

If he could, he would do anything in his power to vanquish the reason behind your tears. He never wants you to shed tears, neither in sleep or wake, ever again.

Blade

It was almost time for the opening act of Elio’s Script. Blade comes to searches for you in the meeting spot, and finds you asleep above one of the many wooden crates of the abandoned factory.

How carefree, Blade thought with a scoff. Even so, Blade’s heart blossoms with warmth, that very same warmth that is born from his affection and adoration for you and all your silly antics.

If he could, he would let you rest for longer and perhaps even join you in your restful slumber, resting your head on his shoulder. But alas, the Script takes priority and it was almost time to begin.

So he reaches to shake your shoulder … but then froze upon the sight of tears falling from your eyes.

Blade has never been one for tears. In a different life, perhaps, he would have been. But tears have no meaning for Blade. Crying does not provide one with salvation, no matter how much one cries, what was lost could never return.

And yet, the sight of your tears shook him to his core.

Blade didn’t know what to do. What could he do anyway? Reach for your face and wipe away your tears with his thumb? Lean towards you and kiss the corners of your eyes, all in hopes for your tears to stop cascading from your eyes? How ridiculous. As though that would solve any of your problems.

So, he does what he is supposed to. Grab your shoulder and gently shake you awake.

“Wake up. It’s almost time to begin.” He says brusquely, already turning around for his back to face you. “Wipe your tears. Don’t let the enemy see even a single hint of weakness.”

You would be shocked upon realizing you were crying in your sleep and hurriedly wiped away the remains of your tears. Not soon after, you join him by the ledge of the building, watching over the city with puffy eyes. Blade would steal a glance at you and then he would say,

“Do not be hasty. I am with you.”

You didn’t need to try hard to know that he wasn’t just talking about the battle ahead.

Dan Heng

The hour was late when Den Heng jolted awake from his sleep. He dreamt of a vague memory of his past incarnation and saw a nightmare where his friends were swept away by the waves; of you disappearing in the dark sea of clouds.

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, Dan Heng takes a moment to recompose himself before shifting to rest on his side, thus meeting the familiar sight of your back. They’re here, Dan Heng thought to himself, breathing a quiet sigh of relief. It’s all just a dream.

Not wanting to wake you, Dan Heng simply stares at your back. The steadiness of your breathing, a reminder that you are alive. Gingerly, Dan Heng reaches to subtly trace soothing lines on your back. Truth be told, it was probably more soothing for him than you.

Then suddenly, there was a slight change in the pattern of your breathing. More feeble and erratic. Concerned that he might have woken you up, Dan Heng pushed himself up to check on your condition …

… Only to find you crying in your sleep.

Upon the sight of your tears, falling so steadily onto the fabric of your already damp pillow, Dan Heng’s breath hitches. He shakes your shoulders, calling your name again and again until your eyes open and meet his pairs of jaded blue.

“You’re crying.” He said bluntly, his brows furrowed as a tell-tale sign of his bleeding concern for you. “What? No, I’m fine. Yes, I woke up because of a nightmare but I’m more concerned for you.”

The two of you would both end up sitting on the bed, both fretting over each other’s condition. You asked Dan Heng about his nightmare and he would reply that it was the usual. He asked you about your tears, and you replied you didn’t even know you were crying until Dan Heng pointed it out.

In the end, the both of you would end up embracing each other tightly, providing both comfort and strength to one another. You both wind up laying on the bed in each other’s arms.

Dan Heng would stay awake for a while after you’ve fallen asleep, gazing at your resting figure in hopes that he would never have to see you cry in your sleep once more.

Dr. Ratio

After a long day full of shameful displays of stupidity from the people around him, Dr. Veritas Ratio was done for the day and is free to visit his beloved. I cannot wait to see them, Ratio thought as he made large strides towards your office. It has been far too long since I’ve had an intellectually stimulating conversation!

He thinks of all the topics he could talk with you, ranging from the most mundane things such as how each other’s days went and the more complex like the discourse regarding a recent hot theory.

Imagine his disappointment when he enters your office and finds you dead asleep on your desk.

Frowning, Ratio rationalizes that you were probably just as exhausted as he was and that there were plenty of chances for conversation when the two of you have rested up. Still. He was disappointed.

He walked towards your desk and took a moment to observe your resting figure. You were sleeping above your paper reports. Now that’s a lark. But then, he noticed something else.

Your papers were soaked, all from the tears that were still cascading from your eyes.

Upon the sight of your tears, Ratio’s heart seemingly ceased to beat. There was shock, confusion, concern and all these strong emotions that meld with one another. In a rare moment of panic, Ratio shook you awake, forcing you away from your stained papers.

“You fool, just what do you think you’re doing?!” He shouts, worry bleeding through his tone. “Don’t ‘What the hell, Veritas’ me! You’re the one crying on your reports and making them unreadable!”

You would be confused until you realize that you were crying in your sleep. You touched the lingering wetness on your cheeks and laughed feebly. It was probably the pent up stress, you offered weakly, annoying Ratio once more.

You expect a lecture, but unexpectedly, Ratio places hand behind your head, brings you to rest against his broad shoulder.

“You are a fool for ruining those reports. If you must cry … cry on my shoulder instead.”

It was a silly attempt at cheering you up, but you appreciated it all the same.

Hehe this was a super fun prompt to write! Might write a second part with Gepard, Jing Yuan, Welt and Luocha when I feel the inspiration hitting me 👀

Also still semi-working on banners ... sigh, lets hope I find a good theme soon enough.

Thank you for reading 💖

#honkai: star rail #hsr x reader #argenti x reader #blade x reader #dan heng x reader #dr. ratio x reader #ratio x reader #angst #hurt/comfort #hsr imagines #hsr headcanons #StarTearsWrites

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sabertoothwalrus · 14 days

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I’ve seen you post some labru stuff and I’m curious what your thoughts on it are. personally I don’t see it? I can buy Kabru having feelings for Laios, but I think Laios wouldn’t be interested in Kabru, so it makes me wonder why so many people ship them. (Tbh I feel like Kabru has more chemistry with Mithrun anyway)

Sorry if this ask sounds rude, I just genuinely don’t understand the appeal of the ship, but I want to understand and I trust your analysis of characters very much :] maybe there’s something I’m missing

I really like both ships, actually!

For labru, there’s sooooo much I could talk about. The inherent homoeroticism of being narrative foils. The inherent homoeroticism of being the king’s advisor. All of chapter 76. The fact that Kabru has mask upon mask upon mask, and Laios is the first person that made his facade absolutely crumble.

Kabru struggles with being genuine!!! Everything he says and does is so perfectly calculated, even when he sort of means it. But since Laios doesn’t get social cues, Kabru gets thrown for a loop.

I get so frustrated when people act like Kabru still hates Laios by the end of the manga!!!!! He killed those corpse retrievers for being corrupt, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to kill Laios. He has such a strong sense of justice, and knew that killing Laios would be a mistake. Because, after meeting him, he could tell he wasn’t actually evil. He’s strange, sure, but not evil.

Kabru DEFINITELY wants to be friends with Laios!! He was not lying about this!!!

But this last comic shows how much Laios wants to be friends with Kabru, too. He’s so nervous after calling Kabru his friend 😭 he doesn’t want to be presumptuous and fuck it up again.

Laios does show an interest in Kabru, at least when Laios thinks he’s interested in eating monsters too. Like,, what was up with THIS

Laios’s gaze is LINGERING. Plus, (this is before that bit at Thistle’s house when he forgets his name) he brings up Kabru when they first form their plan to eat Falin.

And maybe this is just because of my own personal experiences, but Laios reminds me a lot of my own girlfriend. I think they have a similar flavor of gay/aspec & autism combo where, had I not asked her out first, she probably never would have considered being interested in me. But she was very down when I did.

The tricky part about labru is more the political aspect. Regardless of whether you see Laios as aroace or not, he’s in a situation where he will probably get married. He had a fiancée before he was age 13, likely betrothed since he was a baby. He’s already comfortable with the idea of getting married because He’s Supposed To.

However, Laios is king, and could make gay marriage legal if he wanted to (He would probably do this for his sister and Marcille before considering it for himself ). But at the same time, I think Kabru would object to Laios making whatever policies he wants without considering the repercussions of how other kingdoms might react, especially when they’re just getting Melini off the ground and need lots of support from other countries. Laios and Kabru getting gay married anyway and dealing with the aftermath could make for a really compelling story.

I do think Kabru would be a good ruler. He’s already fit for it. He speaks a dozen languages, he knows people and their motivations, and likes politics. The manga already joked about Chilchuck’s daughters trying to marry a king, so it seems like noble blood isn’t too important, but Kabru’s foster family IS nobility. When it comes to heirs, I do like trans Kabru headcanons, but at the same time, I think it’d be cute if they adopt anyway. Kabru seems like he’d have strong feelings about adoption given,,, yknow.

The alternative version of labru to this is Laios gets straight married out of obligation, and Kabru is his mistress hdhdhshsj. I don’t know if I could see Laios doing that? or if Kabru would risk the scandal of being outed as Royal Advisor and Regent trying to seduce the king. It could go SO downhill. but maybe that would be fun.

NOW FOR KABUMISU.

I knew people shipped them, and I could see the basis for it while reading, but I wasn’t really sold on it until the very end. There’s something about “I had no desires left. I decided to create new desires, and one of them is you” that’s really charming.

There’s also something funny about “the demon ate my heterosexuality so I’m gay now”

I think it’s interesting that Kabru hates elves. He was raised by them, and he hates them. He hates feeling patronized by them. He made absolutely sure that elves wouldn’t take control over Melini, not just for his sake, but for Rin’s.

But Mithrun’s interactions with Kabru are founded on more mutual respect. Though, that’s not to say that Mithrun doesn’t still have his biases towards short lived races..

Where Laios doesn’t understand social cues, Mithrun does but just doesn’t care. For that reason, I think Kabru would enjoy spending time with Mithrun. It’d give him a break from his compulsion to calculate all of his social interactions. But at the same time, Kabru is the KING at bottling his emotions. Mithrun is blunt, but also doesn’t care enough to pry. If Kabru had anything bothering him, I could imagine him seeking Mithrun’s company to avoid thinking about it. Could make for a fun dynamic.

I do think it’s funny that Milsiril 1) took care of Mithrun for potentially 20 years and 2) is only four years older than him. I imagine this could lead to funny situations.

I don’t ship things for no reason! I think both of these could work platonically, romantically, one-sided, or even “requited but they don’t do anything about it.” Their relationships compel me and I think it’s sort of bad faith to brush off either like they’re nothing more than baseless yaoi pair-the-spares. To me, I see just as much of a foundation in the source material as farcille.

After all, dungeon meshi isn’t a story about romance, but it IS a story about love. It’s a story about life and death and grief and the love that comes with it. Regardless of shipping, these characters love each other!!! And I love talking about it!!

#long post #dungeon meshi #laios touden #kabru #mithrun #labru #kabumisu #dungeon meshi spoilers #photos

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cuubism · 4 months

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been wanting to write a sort of grey-ace character first time for a while now, so here it is with dream and hob from the silly cafe universe. tackling grey-asexuality can be a tricky prospect as it has the possibility of falling into a "you just haven't met the right person yet" asexual erasure stereotype, but uninformed black and white judgements will exist in the world anyway regardless of whether we explore shades of grey. so here it is anyway, grey-ace dream. [rated E]

Dream thought he would wait, be more patient, but it only took a few dates before he was following Hob home. Perhaps that already counted as waiting. He never knew what the timeline of these things was "supposed" to be.

But he knew he liked being with Hob. He liked when Hob held his hand, or hugged him. He discovered that Hob could easily tolerate his silent spells, often so annoying to others, by filling them with his own chatter. It was soothing to listen to him talk. He discovered that as easygoing as he usually seemed, Hob could be quite intense, too. On their third date, someone had hit on Dream rather aggressively at a bar—an unusual occurrence he'd had no idea how to react to—and Hob had told them not quite politely to shove off. This had made Dream feel all sorts of things.

Perhaps that was why he went home with Hob after their next date. He expected they would just fall into bed, wasn't that how these things usually went, at least in stories? But instead Hob cooked him dinner. And Dream learned that Hob was an excellent cook; truly, it seemed, his only weakness was coffee. Which called into question why he worked at a cafe of all places, but Dream wasn't about to complain when it was what had brought them together.

Hob fed him dinner, and a glass of very good wine, thus proving that his sommelier abilities were also up to par, and Dream might have been planning the rest of their lives in his mind. It was fine if Hob couldn’t make coffee, Dream could make the coffee, if only Hob would keep making dinner for him, and letting him stay in his cozy apartment, and holding his hand on top of the table.

He watched Hob’s hands as he poured more wine. Hob had very nice hands; Dream knew what they felt like, now, holding his, and cradling his jaw, and carding through his hair as they kissed. Hob’s shirt looked very soft, and clung appealingly to his shoulders. Dream found his gaze drawn to Hob’s forearms, where he’d rolled up his sleeves.

It was hard to focus on the conversation, but he managed. Afterwards they wound up on the couch, sitting just close enough to be touching, and Dream was not sure what he was supposed to do. He had figured Hob had brought them back to his home because he wanted to have sex. That was a common expectation, was it not? Dream was not very good at predicting these things. Perhaps he was meant to initiate?

This was often the point where his past attempts at dating had gone sideways. Trying to intuit what he was meant to do usually did not go well for Dream. Normally whatever he did was, somehow, wrong.

“Dream?”

Dream shook himself back to the present. Hob was looking at him, head tilted, a slanted smile on his face. “You looked like you were thinking about something very deeply,” Hob said, a question in it.

He had draped his arm across the back of the couch behind Dream’s shoulders, and started trailing his fingertips up and down the back of Dream’s neck. It made Dream’s skin prickle pleasantly. Perhaps… it didn’t matter what he was ‘meant’ to do? And only whether he wanted to do it?

He was not sure he had ever truly wanted to before. Not the way that he did with Hob.

He leaned into Hob’s side, into the circle of his hold, and kissed him.

Hob made a low sound of surprise, but kissed him back, wrapping his arm around Dream’s shoulders to pull him closer. As always, it was so lovely to kiss him. There was something comforting about it, which Dream had never felt when kissing before, and more than that, it sparked something in him. That feeling, it was new. When Hob kissed him, when Hob ran a hand through his hair, when Hob pulled him close with a hand around his waist—it made something in him go hot, something he hadn’t felt before. And... he wanted. Even if it was new, and unfamiliar.

He took a deep breath, and slid into Hob’s lap.

Hob took a sharp breath and braced him by the hips. Dream settled into his lap, resting his hands on Hob’s shoulders, a little shiver running through him. It was good, though, it felt good. He didn’t know exactly where it was going to go, but he wanted to find out.

“Well, hi, darling,” said Hob, a pleased smile growing on his face. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“You are horrible,” Dream told him, and Hob’s smile only deepened.

“You like me, though,” he said, ducking his head almost bashfully, and Dream kissed him, right above one eyebrow, overcome with fondness for him.

“I do,” he said. So much. So much that he felt things that were unruly and strange—but he wanted to feel them.

He tipped Hob’s face back up, thumbs hooked under his jaw, and kissed him. Hob hummed happily, sinking into the kiss. He slipped his hands under Dream’s shirt, fingertips pressing into his bare back, and Dream shuddered.

“Did you want to move things into the bedroom?” Hob murmured, lips brushing Dream’s. “Is that what that meant?”

Dream nodded, breathless, and then Hob was wrapping his arms around his thighs and picking him up. Dream squeaked as Hob stood up, holding on tight to the back of Hob’s neck, and Hob grinned at him. “You seemed to like it when I caught you.”

Dream had. Dream very much had. And he liked it now, Hob’s strong arms under his thighs, and how tightly they were pressed together. He felt all warm inside, like his body might set itself on fire in a flurry of a thousand sparks, and it was… scary. He hadn’t felt that way before, but he didn’t want it to stop. He wanted more.

“I did. I. Had wondered before if you would be able to pick me up,” he admitted, blushing, and Hob’s smile turned mischievous.

“Oh, yeah? I can do a lot more than that, love.”

“Like what?”

So Hob carried him into the bedroom. It didn’t seem very difficult for him, which made Dream’s stomach flip. When they reached his room, Hob tossed him on the bed. Dream landed with a gasp in the pillows.

“Like that,” Hob said, grinning. He tugged Dream’s shoes and socks off, and then his own, and Dream made grabby hands at him. Hob crawled up the bed after him, settling between his legs. His weight over Dream made him shiver pleasantly. He ran his hands up and down Hob’s arms, over his shirt, surprised by how much he truly wanted to touch him. And to have Hob touch him.

Hob kissed him deeply, then gazed down at him, his gaze heavy. Dream swallowed, throat dry. Hob stroked Dream’s hair. “You’re so pretty, you know.”

“Thank you,” said Dream, and Hob laughed. He kissed the corner of Dream’s mouth, then his cheek, little pecking kisses. He played with the hem of Dream’s shirt.

“Can I take your shirt off?”

Dream nodded, breathless, and Hob sat up enough that he could pull Dream’s shirt up and off over his head. He trailed his hands down Dream’s chest, over his stomach. Dream followed his touch, everything else fading to the background. He wished Hob would touch him all over. What a strange, scary, delightful feeling.

He tugged on Hob’s shirt, and Hob let him pull it off over his head. His chest was broad, and far hairier than Dream’s, and Dream stared, then laid his hands on Hob’s body, mesmerized.

“This is very flattering,” Hob said, humor in his voice, as Dream kept touching him. “What do you want, darling? Because I’d love to get my mouth on you.”

Dream’s attention was suddenly wrenched away from his examination of Hob’s chest by the fact that he was painfully hard. That Hob’s voice and words alone could do that—he hadn’t thought it was possible.

“Okay,” he said, voice tight.

Hob unbuttoned his jeans, and Dream lifted his hips so he could pull them off. Dream felt very exposed then, but Hob’s gaze on him was kind, and hot, as he looked Dream up and down. Dream reached for the waistband of Hob’s jeans—it suddenly felt very important that Hob be naked, too, if Dream was going to be. “Can you—?”

“Of course.” Hob slipped out of his own jeans, then sat before Dream on the bed again, only in his boxers, their legs brushing. Dream studied him, the strength of his thighs, of his hands, the weight of his arousal in his underwear. He had never gone this far with someone, wanted to go this far. He felt like he might combust. This was all so new, but he trusted Hob. He wanted to see where it would go.

Hob ran his hands up Dream’s legs, from his ankles, over his knees, up his thighs, thumbs brushing the crease where his thigh met his hip, and Dream shuddered, feeling heavy and warm and so very aware of everything around him. Hob was like a beacon, everything about him drew Dream’s eye, his presence so strong that everything in Dream wanted to go to him. Touch him, kiss him, lean on him, have Hob touch him. It was an overwhelming fire within him, consuming all sense.

“You’re so beautiful,” Hob said, voice a low rumble that Dream felt in his belly. “Tell me what you like, sweetheart?”

“I—” Dream didn’t know. He had rarely wanted any of it enough to consider it. He knew that he wanted Hob to touch him, but not much more detail than that.

“Wait, have you ever…?” Hob asked, suddenly unsure of himself, pulling his hands back. Dream did not want him to take his hands back, and briefly considered lying, saying, of course, of course I have, who hasn’t? But he didn’t want to lie to Hob. He shook his head.

“Shit.” Guilt settled on Hob’s features. He had nothing to feel bad for, nothing, Dream thought. “I didn’t mean to assume.”

“It is alright.” Dream huffed a laugh, but there was little humor in it. “It is a reasonable assumption, at our age, is it not?”

“Still. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

His mouth twisted in disappointment, and Dream took his hands, placed them back on his own legs. “You didn’t. I want to. If you’ll forgive my inexperience.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Dream.” Hob stroked his thumbs lightly over Dream’s legs, more a soothing motion now. “Nothing. You want to?”

“I do,” Dream said, still a bit shaken by the realization. “I never have because… I never wanted anybody. Not the way that I want you.”

“Oh.” Hob’s lips tipped back up into a half-smile. “Never fell for anybody else, then?”

“Mean,” Dream grumbled, and Hob laughed.

“That’s okay.” He seemed to be coming around to the situation now; he leaned forward again so he was almost in Dream’s lap, and murmured against his cheek, “Just means I get to make sure your first time is just as good as you deserve.”

“You are very sure of yourself,” Dream said, but curled his fingers around Hob’s hips, holding him close.

“I know what I’m good at,” Hob said.

“In that case I should probably inform you that you are terrible at making coffee,” Dream said, and Hob laughed, the sound loud so close to Dream’s ear. It made him smile.

“Wow,” Hob said. “I know, okay? I’m not usually in charge of it. Normally I just bake.”

Dream pulled back just far enough to see his face. “You… are not?”

Hob gave him a bashful smile. “Just wanted the chance to see you. Would have missed you if I was working in back.”

Dream stared at him, astonished—and touched, too. “I demand recompense for all the horrific coffee you forced me to consume.”

“It can be arranged,” Hob said. And kissed Dream again, his lips soft but sure. Knowing that Hob had been specifically engineering things to be able to see him, just as Dream had— it only made him like Hob more.

“Will you touch me?” he asked, and Hob groaned.

“Think I might die if I don’t.”

He eased Dream back to lie down against the pillows, then pulled off his underwear. Dream was breathing hard again now, lying naked under Hob’s hungry gaze. He hoped he wouldn’t faint, but it felt like a distinct possibility. At least Hob had proven that he wasn’t bothered by that, once before.

“I still want to get my mouth on you,” Hob murmured. “Is that okay?”

“Please.” Dream liked Hob’s mouth. He wanted Hob’s mouth on him. Had he ever felt that way before? He didn’t think so. But he imagined Hob taking him in his mouth and he wanted.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Hob said. “Since you walked into the cafe that first time, can you believe it? Sorry. Hope that doesn’t creep you out.”

The thought of Hob imagining this while talking to him over the counter only made Dream feel hotter inside. “I like when you think about me.”

“And I like thinking about you.” He kissed the tip of Dream’s cock, and Dream gasped. “And being with you even more.”

He took Dream in his mouth then, and Dream lost all ability to respond to him. Hob’s mouth was so much. All-encompassing wet heat, the flat pressure of his tongue, and then Hob bobbed his head and took him deeper and Dream moaned, startling himself with the sound. He flailed, and found Hob’s hair, holding onto it for balance, and Hob hummed his approval.

Hob felt so good. Dream did not know how he was supposed to survive it. Perhaps Hob wouldn’t mind if he didn’t. Perhaps he’d take it as a compliment. Dream felt much like how he had right before he’d fainted on Hob at the cafe, a rush of pleasant lightness at the thought that Hob was paying attention to him and wanting him, but he didn’t faint this time. He just fell into the pleasure of Hob’s touch.

He lost himself for a while, to Hob’s tongue, the pressure of his lips, his skillful pacing that kept Dream struggling to find where the edge was. He felt he was supposed to be participating more actively but he could not gather himself together enough to do more than play with Hob’s hair, to touch his jaw and throat and slick lips as if in a dream. He felt out of control, and Dream normally hated feeling out of control, but Hob felt so good that it was worth it.

“Hob,” he cried, as Hob dragged his tongue over him in a way he’d clearly learned would get a particular reaction. Dream’s hips twitched up, thrust automatically into Hob’s waiting mouth, and he rushed to apologize—but Hob moaned. The rumble of his voice was too much for Dream, who already felt held on a razor’s edge of control. The weight that had been building and building in his belly and thighs snapped in a rush and he came in Hob’s mouth, cock bumping the back of his throat. Flushed and overheated, he tugged on his own hair. It cut through the bright overwhelm of being touched.

Breathing hard, he looked down at Hob, who pulled off him slowly, and then swallowed. Dream swallowed, too, a shaky echo of the motion, and pet Hob’s hair, twining the long strands between his fingers.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I did not warn you.”

Hob slanted a smile at him. “It’s okay. I knew what I was getting into giving a blowjob to someone who’d never done it before. Besides—” he kissed the crook of Dream’s hip, tongue darting out to wet the skin “—I wanted to taste you.”

Hob was too much for him. He made Dream feel so overwhelmed, but in a good way, such a good way. Hob crawled up Dream’s body to kiss him, arms bracketing Dream’s head, and Dream let the heat of Hob's mouth, and the pleasant wake of orgasm wash over him.

"Good?" Hob murmured, and Dream nodded. Good, yes, so good. He pulled Hob closer so all of Hob’s body was pressed to his, Hob’s weight over him. There was so much skin like this, so much heat, Hob’s hair brushing his stomach and the strong planes of his back under Dream’s hands. Hob groaned as his erection ground into the crook of Dream’s hip, and Dream needed, suddenly needed to see him come, too. He wanted to see Hob fall apart. He wanted to be the one who made it happen.

He tugged on Hob’s boxers, and Hob budged up enough that together they were able to get them off. Then Dream pulled him back in, wrapped a leg around the back of Hob’s thigh, chasing skin touch. Hob kissed his throat, grinding his cock against Dream’s sharp hipbone, the flat muscles of his belly. An image flashed through Dream’s mind of Hob moving like that but in him and he was startled by how fiercely he wanted it.

It was joyful, too, to hold Hob close to him and feel his pleasure. Hob did not have to be inside him for Dream to feel that he had never been so close to another person before. It was fascinating and beautiful, the mess of Hob’s lips on his skin, the glide of precome, the moving warmth of Hob’s body.

He reached between them and took Hob in hand. Hob stuttered at the touch, then groaned. “Fuck, your hands.”

“Have you been thinking about them?” Dream asked. A thrill ran through him as Hob nodded. Dream would not have expected himself to want to, to be able to try to stoke Hob’s pleasure through words, this was all so new, but— “Did you imagine me touching you like this?” He twisted his grip around Hob, and Hob shuddered. “My hand wrapped around your cock?”

It did not feel awkward as Dream would have expected. Unlike with the stressful repartee of public conversation, he only had to focus on Hob’s reactions, and how he could use his words to turn Hob’s imagination, like he did with his stories. Hob was not even looking at him as he spoke, but he was focusing on him, Dream could tell.

He let Hob thrust into his hand, encouraging him on with his leg still wrapped around the back of his thigh, dragged his other hand through Hob’s hair, and murmured, “Did you know that I rarely fantasize about anyone, but once I met you I could not stop thinking about you touching me?”

“Dream.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he praised—Hob was, he was beautiful to Dream, he was an explanation of something Dream had always wanted to understand—and Hob whined. Dream caressed the back of his neck, down his spine. “I want to see you come.”

And Hob did, gasping against Dream’s throat and spilling into his hand. It thrilled Dream more than his own pleasure, to feel Hob come for him. Hob’s desire for him, and how he responded to Dream’s voice.

“Fuck, Dream.” Hob’s weight was heavy on him now, his breath hot against Dream’s throat. “I didn’t know you had that in you.”

“Nor I,” Dream admitted, and Hob chuckled.

“You’ll be a monster now that you’ve got started,” he said. They lay there like that for a few heartbeats, catching their breath, Dream running his fingers through Hob's hair. Then Hob pushed himself up on his elbows to look at him, hair falling into his eyes, a fond look on his face. “So. First time. Did you enjoy yourself?”

It was harder to speak again with Hob looking directly at him, but Hob’s look on him was kind, so Dream persisted. “I did,” he said, and Hob’s smile deepened, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “And it is not so often that I enjoy something that is new to me.”

Hob kissed him lightly on the lips. “I'm so glad, love. That's what I wanted for you.”

He pet Dream’s hair. The touch felt so nice. “I…” Dream started, because he did have something more he wanted to say to Hob, hard though it sometimes was to speak. Hob looked at him expectantly, waiting. “I did not know what it meant to want this— or to want someone until I wanted you,” Dream admitted. “And… it was not something that I needed. But now that I have it, I do want it, and I want to explore more. With you.”

Hob’s smile softened. "Seeing you enjoy yourself was better than I could have hoped for. Happiness is so gorgeous on you. So don't hesitate to tell me what you're thinking of." He kissed Dream’s cheek, and by the corner of his eye. “There’s a lot I want to explore with you."

There was a low burn of heat in his words, and Dream’s body prickled in expectation. So strange, the way that he responded to Hob, without intention or control, and it was so much stronger now that he knew what Hob’s hands, and mouth, on him felt like. There was so much to discover. He thought of what he had imagined, Hob moving within him, but didn't speak that desire yet. He did not think he was yet ready to bring that from imagination to reality. But someday.

Hob fetched a damp towel to clean them up, then pulled Dream close to him again. It was very warm, like that, their legs tangled, Dream’s head pillowed on Hob’s arm. He had never lain in bed naked with another person before. He found that he liked it. At least with Hob.

“Thank you,” he said, lips pressed to Hob’s shoulder.

“Hm?”

“I do not… often know what I am doing, in these situations,” Dream said. “But I never feel like I am doing it wrong, when I am with you.”

Hob kissed the top of his head. “You’re not doing it wrong,” he said. “You’re perfect.”

“That is objectively untrue, but thank you.”

Hob laughed, and held him close, arms wrapped around him. Dream felt encompassed, grounded. It was a good feeling. Hob was a good feeling. One that Dream certainly intended to hold onto.

He tucked his head in against Hob’s chest, and, smiling, let the dreams he had been spinning at dinner, of Hob cooking for him, of staying, fill his mind again. Only now, there were a few other things included in those dreams, too.

#hob's trying to be normal about it so it doesnt have to feel like a huge deal for dream #but inside i think he's 5 trillion exclamation points in a row. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! about it all #meanwhile dream accidentally discovered hob's praise kink and now is like New Toy! New Toy! New Toy!#dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my writing #last fic of the year baby #i've obsessed over this for long enough i must release it

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chaifootsteps · 3 months

Note

Sorry this is gonna be long. Vivziepop doesn't understand the gravity of sin and hence cannot comprehend the idea of redemption.

It's so obvious Viv has had some bad experiences with the Christian church, but she is also totally unwilling to research the philosophy behind the religion. There are reasons we believe what we believe, and reasons why what we believe gets twisted and used to hurt people, and even reasons why our beliefs in their truest and purest form can STILL hurt people. But regardless of their effects, whether good or bad, there are REASONS those beliefs exist, reasons backed up by literal millennial of theology and historical/academic study.

The idea that her characters don't even understand HOW someone gets into heaven just proves she gave no thought to the other side of the argument. The premise of Hazbin Hotel is that people can change and deserve a chance to be redeemed, but she fails to illustrate any actual change or redemption.

Redemption is predicated on the recognition of what you've done wrong and the desire to do better. It is an internal battle of constant self-examination and dedication to improve. The people that make up her main cast are sinful. Whether or not their sins mean they deserved hell is up to interpretation. I'm not asking her to follow the Catechism of the Catholic church. But if these people are to be redeemed, they have to acknowledge themselves as full of fault.

Husk was a gambler. A gambling addiction is not a fun or quirky hobby. It, like any addiction, is a complete loss of control and subservience to a vice that destroys your life and relationships with other people. Alastor was a cannibal and serial killer, who took the lives of fellow humans and desecrated their remains for his own pleasures, showing a complete lack of respect for the sanctity of life. Angel Dust hurts himself over and over and over again through his addiction to pleasure and narcotics. Sometimes sin doesn't hurt other people as much as it hurts us, but it's still a sin because we are supposed to treat our bodies as temples. These are all massive flaws of the characters, sins that have overtaken their personalities and lives, and yes, they may be interesting and fun and entertaining, but that doesn't change the fact they did bad things.

Vivziepop can't redeem anyone, because she fails to set a standard of righteousness. Sin is just a mutation of virtue. It's taking prudence and turning it into greed. It's taking humility and turning it into self-flagellation. It's taking love and turning it into lust. Because of her, I'm sure, completely valid religious trauma, she fails to recognize the humanity of the people that hurt her. That they too are just people who struggle with their own sin and vice. She can't comprehend or give the benefit of the doubt that religious people have valid explanations for their beliefs.

She seems to think of heaven as just a place of stuck-up hypocrites who don't know how to have fun. She seems to think the rules and regulations of religion are just arbitrary rules someone made up for a power grab and not a detailed and dedicated attempt of humanity to understand God and his desires.

Viv's understanding of redemption is likeability. It's illustrated in Angel's scenes in episode six. Yes, Angel is being nice and kind and caring about people, but his problems were never a lack of caring about people. His problems were using substances to deal with his problems, and yes he did deny the drugs Cherry offered him, but there was no moment of reflection as to why he no longer wanted to take them. It seems more like he wants to make Husk happy with him than he actually wants to form better coping mechanisms or even a recognition that he doesn't need the drugs to numb the pain anymore now that he has a support system.

She seems to think that if a sinner is likeable, they don't deserve eternal damnation. That's why she woobifies every character she grows to like, because being a good person and sin cannot co-exist in her mind. People who are likeable cannot be bad people and thus a system that would put a likeable person in hell is rigged and stupid. But that fails to comprehend the multi-faceted of humanity and sin.

Sometimes people you love, people who are good to you, are bad people to others. Child molesters can be good friends. Rapisits can advocate for animal rights. Murderers can be good parents. A person who abused you could be someone else's best friend, and a genuinely good friend at that. A failure to recognize the complexity of virtue and vice is a failure to understand what redemption means.

She can critique the idea of perfection. She can critique the hypocrisies of the church. She can critique the tenets of religion. She can even say the things I believe in are unfair and nonsensical and evil. But she cannot make a good critique without understanding the other side of the argument. Because without that, she herself has no counter argument!

The plot of Hazbin is no longer that people can be redeemed, but that redemption is not necessary, because the rules that government heaven and hell make no sense. And that's a COMPLETELY different argument to be making.

I apologize for the length. I hope I've made some semblance of sense.

No, no apologies for the length. It was an interesting read!

Some would argue that all religions are nothing but arbitrary rules someone made up for a power grab, but it's true, there's at least supposed to be some kind of rhyme and reason to it all. In theory at least, it's supposed to improve yours and everyone else's quality of life, but that goes against Viv's theory that the only thing that matters is doing whatever you want all the time. Viv doesn't have to side with Heaven or go full blown scripture, but you can't tell me that Heaven doesn't even know what it takes for someone to get in.

Thanks for your thoughts!

#Anonymous #viv stuff #hazbin hotel critical #actual blog post

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daughterofthequeen · 4 months

Text

A New Diagnosis

Pairing: Joel Miller x autistic daughter!reader

Summary: I have an idea. Joel Miller x daughter!reader, based in the camps they had everyone in after the outbreak(so a couple days after Sarah’s death technically) and the reader is a high functioning autistic who stims. So when they get to the camp and because of all the stress she has been under, it’s causing her stimming to flare up like crazy. So Joel and Tommy had to beg and plead to the soldiers, trying to let them know she is autistic and she wasn’t infected, that she just can’t control her stims.

Warnings: Angst, crying, cussing, stimming(not really a warning but its in the story), overstimulated meltdown, denial, most likely inaccurate chain of command about construction work or construction jobs in general, might be a little ooc Joel in one scene I’m not completely sure but it feels like it and I hate it😠😤.

A/N: the reader symptoms and preferences are based on my own, which is also where this idea came from. Ever since the show came out I just wondered what did they do to the people with ticks and stims at the beginning of the outbreak. I mean they eventually had to come up with a way to tell a difference in the beginning of the outbreak before they had the infection detector things, right?

I honestly might rewrite this because I don’t know if I like how this turned out. Usually I’m pretty good at picturing what characters would say in a certain situation, but there’s one part of the fic that I’m not so sure about( you’ll know it when you read it I’m sure). But it’s crazy because I’ve been living like this since the ages of 4 or 5 and it still extremely difficult to describe stimming, even harder writing about it. But I wish I had a Joel Miller parent so I guess I’m projecting a bit in this fic. And this may also be longest fic yet.

So I decided to make this into two parts because I want this posted today because it was supposed to be out yesterday and I don’t want to wait any longer.

Mockingbird (Part 2)

Taglist: @miss-celestial-being @ilovemydinoboi @taraiel @distorted-twink @geralallfandoms @your-shifting-gurl @daemontargaryenwhore @mihstar

What started out as a regular day went to hell in the span of a couple hours. I mean homes being set on fire, families separated, innocents slaughtered due to the fear of a sickness they had no cure for. But I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I? Let’s start from the beginning. My name is (Y/n) Miller, and this is the story of how everything went to shit.

I was only 4.

As a kid you’re oblivious to almost everything, but sometimes a child’s behavior can reflect the type of day the family will have whether they realize it or not. And my attitude had been off all that week, until my father’s birthday aka outbreak day. I called it the calm before the storm. That week I was in an overall bad mood. All of my senses had been on high, being overstimulated plus the struggle of always being alone in school. I mean don’t get me wrong I use to talk to some of my classmates, but most likely than not I would’ve been playing by myself either from trying to avoid the bullies or because nobody wanted to play with me in general. But hey, you can’t miss what you’ve never had. I never really understood people, I still don’t but I had my family and they always made everything okay. They never made me feel different about myself. Regardless of me being only four, I understood that the repetitive behaviors were definitely not normal. Along with the what I now know as stimming; physical, vocal, scripting, ticking, etc. I could go on and on about everything that makes me different, but my family had always helped me feel normal. To be honest I didn’t start realizing I was doing all that stuff until one day my dad sat me down and asked me ‘what are you doing’ and ‘are you okay?’, which made me more self-aware. And then there was school, the weird looks and the mean jokes came into play. I’ve rarely caught my family staring, but I knew they were. Growing up and remembering the past helps you realize things you might’ve missed or didn’t understand as a kid. Like the concerned/confused stares I would catch my dad or uncle Tommy giving me before I was diagnosed. I just didn’t know what the looks were for. But the day my father finally decided something was indeed wrong, that it wasn’t just a phase, had him making an appointment to my clinic fast. It was the first time my stimming caused me serious pain. Well, from what I can remember anyway.

July 23, 2002 - Austin,Texas (Y/n is 3 years old)

The day started out like any other. I woke up in my sister’s bed, once I got my bearings I got out of the bed and headed down stairs to see my dad and my sister having one of their many daily debates

“I’m just saying your generations music has nothing on ours- (Y/N)!” After hearing Sarah saying your name, Joel turned around seeing you standing in the kitchen doorway rubbing your eye.

“Hey babygirl. Did you have a good sleep?” He asked as he turned off the stove top and went to pick you up.

“Mhm. I’m hungry, daddy.”

“That’s good because I just cooked your favorite breakfast.” He said as he kissed your cheek and sat you down in the chair across from Sarah, who got the two of you orange juice. Joel then went to grab the plates. There were eggs, sausage, french toast, and he sat a bowl of grapes next to you knowing how much you love them. You all started eating your breakfast. You went straight for the grapes and started eating them, until you spotted something that looked weird to you. Frowning, you push the bowl away and went to the food on your plate.

“Something wrong with your grapes?” Joel asked you noticing the way you frowned up.

“They dirty daddy.” Causing Joel to frown in confusion.

“Dirty? I just washed ‘em.” Joel leaned forward and grabbed the bowl and didn’t see anything abnormal about the grapes. The water in the bowl didn’t even black specs in it that grapes leave behind. “They look fine to me.”

“No. They dirty daddy, look.” Standing in your chair, you leaned over and pointed to a grape with a light brown streak on it and another where it was brown from where the stem was.

“Oh, that doesn’t mean they’re dirty, baby. Grapes just to look like that sometimes or because they’ve gotten older. That’s all.”

“Ew.” You mumbled.

“They’re gonna taste the same.” Joel said as he sat the bowl back down next to you.

“I don’t want them anymore.” You say pushing the grapes away.

“They’re fine, (n/n). I actually think the small brown areas actually make them sweater.” Sarah says trying to reassure her baby sister.

“No.” That was your final statement before you went back to eating the food on your plate.

“Ok, you don’t have to eat ‘em.” Joel states as him and Sarah go back to eating their own food.

———

“(Y/n)!!! Come back here!”

“No!”

“We go through this every time you use the bathroom!”

Sarah was currently chasing you around the house. A daily thing really, but for the last few months you have determined on not washing your hands after using the bathroom. And not with just Sarah. With Joel and Tommy too. Joel usually would have to keep a firm grip on you that disabled you from moving away from the sink, and to keep you from running or flailing your arms around as an attempt to keep him from making you wash your hands.

The first time that happened you guys were at a restaurant. He would be surprised if that whole side of the restaurant didn’t hear you,

“Daddy, I have to use the bathroom.”

“Ok.” Usually he would have Sarah take you but her and Tommy’s food had made it to the table. And since he was still waiting on his, there was no sense in stopping her from eating. He took you out of the high chair, and you two headed to the restroom. After the long process of putting toilet paper on the seat, he sat you on the seat and let you do your business. Once you were finished cleaning yourself up and him flushing the toilet, he waited for you to go towards the sink. But you headed towards the door instead.

“Don’t forget to wash your hands.” Joel said from his spot on the wall he was leaning on with his arms crossed.

Turning towards the sink, you clasped your hands to your chest, letting out a low groan of disgust.

“What is it?”

“I don’t want to touch it.”

“What the sink?” You nodded.

“You have to wash your hands, babygirl. Come on.”

“No.” You whined, and Joel knew then the two of you were going to have a problem.

“Babygirl, please.” He said in a pleading tone and tired tone.

“No!” Joel sighed then picked you up and held you over the sink as he usually would when washing your hands, but this time due to your decision of fighting and squirming in his arms, he had to get a gentle but firm grip on your hands to wash them himself.

“(Y/n).” That caused you to stop in your tracks. The sound was unfamiliar until your mind put together it was your father’s voice. He never says your actual name unless you were in trouble, and even then it would depend. But him calling your name was enough time for Sarah to scoop you up and head to the nearest sink which was the kitchen.

Sarah sat you down after she finished washing your hands. After getting free you pouted and went into the living room to continue playing with your toys before your bladder interrupted you. So invested in what you were doing, you didn’t even hear your Uncle Tommy come in the house.

“What’s for dinner today?” He teased, rubbing the top of yours and Sarah’s head as he passed by each of you.

“I don’t know you’ll have to ask this guy. He was supposed to go to the store but surprise, he didn’t.” Sarah says with a sarcastic smile towards her father who was going through bills. Joel head turned towards Sarah giving a bored look.

“We’re ordering pizza.”

“Fine with me.” Tommy states triggering Joel to role his eyes.

“Of course it is.”

Sarah went upstairs for the book the two of you were reading. To ‘keep her ahead of her future classmates’. While Sarah was upstairs, Tommy eyes trailed over to you, he smiled as he watched you in your own little world playing with your toys while talking to yourself. He watched you for a minute until he saw you stretching your neck. Normally he would’ve thought nothing of it until he realized it was happening constantly. At first they were only seconds apart, then you would stop for a few minutes and start again. There wasn’t an exact pattern, but he caught the rhythm of it.

“Buns neck been bothering her?”

“No.” Joel answered absentmindedly, still invested in the papers he wished he could use as a coaster without consequence.

“You sure?”

“Yeah I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be sure?” Joel asked, getting annoyed by the fact he kept getting interrupted with his task.

“ ‘Cause she keeps stretchin’ it like it’s bothering her.”

Joel looks up at Tommy who had a slight worried look on his face. Joel then turns around in his chair to see what his brother was talking about. And true to his little brother’s words there you were stretching your neck and shoulder in a way that looks painful if he’s being honest. Joel turned back around to his brother with an equally concerned look. He leans closer towards him and lowers his voice before he started talking signaling Tommy to do the same.

“I don’t know why she does that, and every time I ask her if she’s ok she tells me she’s fine.”

“Maybe she has a crook in her neck.”

“No, if it was a crook we would know. She would be a lot worse. She tends to panic when she has one of those, and doesn’t do a lot of moving around. To stop the ‘bouncy feeling’. This. This is something else. And it’s been getting more frequent lately.”

“Frequent?”

“Yeah, this started a few months ago. It’ll leave and come back after a few weeks, but like I said it’s been happening a lot more often lately. She does it with her hands and wrist too.”

“Hm.”

Joel turned back towards his youngest. “Babygirl, you okay?” He said in a tone reserved for only you and Sarah when she’s upset about something.

You look up from your toys, bright innocent eyes finding your father’s concerned ones.

“Yeah.”

“You sure? Your neck not bothering you?”

“No.” You replied while standing up from your place on the floor and walked over to your father. When you got close enough he automatically picked you up and sat you on his thigh.

“Then why do you keep rollin’ it around honey?”

“I’m not.” Joel frowned in confusion. He’s clearly watching you do it so, either you’re lying for some unknown reason or you just don’t know that you’re doing it. But he’s always able to tell just by asking one question.

“Are you telling me the truth?” Simple, but it works. It was a question he would ask you every time he would think you were lying. And every time you answer you have a tell. When you tell the truth you tend to answer pretty confidently, but when you lie, you always fiddle with something whether it be your clothes, your fingers, or just bouncing your foot.

“Yes.” There’s no fidgeting. Covering up how even more confused he was in the moment he just nodded in understanding even though he didn’t.

“Ok baby, you want to go back to playin’ with your toys?”

“Yeah.” You replied getting down from your father’s lap before he even had the chance to put you down. Then you ran off to start back playing until Sarah came back down the stairs.

“(N/n), story time.” Hearing that you stood up and headed over to the couch with your sister. Before you sat down you picked up your stuffed bunny, Tommy got it for you when you were two. They used to use it to stop you from crying, but now you take it wherever you go. You laid down across the couch with Sarah and had your bunny in front of you in the same position you were to Sarah. She opened the book to where you two left off and started reading stopping at every few paragraphs to let you read.

Joel watched the two of you, his world. He would never understand how a mother would want to give this up.

“Have you thought about getting her checked out?” Tommy’s voice broke Joel from his thoughts.

“Checked for what?” Joel asked frowning at his brother.

“Joel, are you serious? Something could be wrong.”

“She’s fine, Tommy. She’ll grow out of it.”

“Grow out of it? Don’t you want to make sure?”

“Tommy, please.” Now Joel was lying. To himself especially. But that is understandable, what parent wants to accept that something may be wrong with their child. It was a scary thing to think about.

“What if it’s somethin’ wrong? Wouldn’t you want to get Bun’ the help she needs as soon as possible.”

“She doesn’t need help Tommy. I’m telling you she’ll grow out of it.”

“Joel-”

“Just let it go.” Joel whispered in a hardened tone, trying to keep his voice down so the girls wouldn’t hear that anything was wrong. “Look, would you order the pizza for tonight. I’m trying to finish up these bills.” Tommy mumbled a ‘sure’ and got up to make the call. He understood why Joel didn’t want to talk about that kind of stuff, what parent does? But knowing his stubborn nature he won’t act on it unless something happens that causes him to. After hearing the voice of the pizza lady on the line, Tommy uses it as a distraction to get his mind off his niece and his stubborn mule of a brother.

January 16, 2003 - 6:30am

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Sarah sat up with a soft groan and stretches, when she heard whining. She turned toward her sister who was hiding under the covers.

“Time to get up (n/n).” Sarah was about to stand up until she heard you cry out. She pulled back the covers to see you in a fertile position, hands covering your ears, eyes squeezed shut. “Come on (n/n), we- what’s wrong?” Sarah asked starting to panic seeing a tear fall from your eye.

“Too loud!” Sarah was confused for a second before she remembered the alarm was still going off. She quickly reached over to turn it off, and brought you into her arms. She laid you on her chest, rocking you back and forth while rubbing the top of your head, and she softly shushed you until you calmed down. When Sarah heard your cries turn into sniffles and looked down at you.

“You okay?” She asked softly rubbing the top of your head. She was confused as to why you reacted this way but, whatever the reason, it had her extremely worried. After seeing you nod your head she was able to relax, but she knew she still needed to tell dad about what just happened. Sarah got you up so, the both of you could start your morning routine. Everything went semi-smoothly, but that’s to be expected after your reaction to the alarm clock she’s not all that shocked about your agitated behavior. Sarah had just finished fixing your shirt when there was a knock on the bedroom door.

“Come in.”

“Hey, you girls almost ready?”

“Yep, we were just about to head down for breakfast.” Sarah stood from her kneeling position in front of you, letting you know that she was finished. And after going to tuck your bunny in bed you walked over to Joel.

“Unfortunately, you two are going to have to eat breakfast at school.” He said as he picked you up.

“Ew, why?” Sarah asked.

“Well your Uncle Tommy called and said there’s been an emergency at the house we’re working on so, when he pulls up we gotta go.” He grabbed your book bag and started down the stairs since you had decided to fall back asleep, not that he blamed you if he could he would have too. A minute later Tommy pulls up and surprisingly the Adlers weren’t outside, then again they were leaving a little earlier than usual. But, either way they didn’t have time to stop and talk. Sarah was dropped off first, then you. And it wasn’t until Sarah sat down in her first period class when she realized she forgot to tell her dad what happened this morning.

———

Time Skip

Normally, when school gets out you would ride home with Denise, due to her daughter going to the same school and Sarah’s school getting out 10 minutes after your school does. Then add another 20-30 minutes of her having to take the school bus then the city bus to get home. When Sarah makes it to the neighborhood she has to pass by Denise house to get to yours which is when she picks you up, but today didn’t work out that way. It started when Joel got a phone call from your school.

Joel and Tommy were currently managing the workers that were doing the framework of the building they were working on. Well Tommy was, Joel was trying to keep calm while talking to the construction manger.

“Look all I’m saying is we should be getting paid more since we’re working more hours than what we were told we would be working, don’t you think.” The construction manger has been going back and forth with Joel for about 10 minutes now, way too long for Joel’s liking.

“No, I don’t. Especially since the reason we’re in this situation is because you guys didn’t do your jobs right in the first place. You’re lucky you’re still gettin’ paid the amount that was agreed upon.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that if you and your guys spent as much time working as you do talking and taking breaks you probably would’ve done your jobs right the first time, and we wouldn’t be in this situation, or behind a day.” The manger didn’t take too kindly to that statement, and Joel was so close to losing his nerve until he was saved by the bell, literally. Right before he was about to tell the construction manager that he can stick it where the sun don’t shine, his phone started ringing.

Joel sighed while taking his phone out of the carrying case to see it was the preschool calling much to his confusion. He didn’t even notice the construction manager was still talking.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Take it up with Tommy.” He said while waving him off and answering his phone. “Hello.”

“Mr. Miller.”

“Yeah.”

“This is Elizabeth, (Y/n)’s teacher. We need you to come to the school.” Joel immediately sighs, dragging his hand over his face.

“What’d she do?” He replies in an exhausted tone. He never gets calls from your schools unless it’s to let him know he needed to bring a change of clothes for you. All the preschoolers have to have an extra pair of clothes that’s to be kept in the classroom just in case the kids have an accident or something. But you’ve been acting out a lot lately, and he wouldn’t be surprised if it was for something like that.

“It may be better for you to come up to the school so we can explain it to you face-to-face.” Joel didn’t like the way this was sounding. It was hard for him to pinpoint the emotion that was coming off her voice, which worried him more.

“Okay, I’m on my way.” He sighed while hanging up the phone. He walked over to Tommy who looks like he actually did tell the construction manager to shove it, going off the look on the of their faces. “Tommy, I need you to watch over everything here for a while.”

“What’s goin’ on?”

“That was (Y/n)’s school, they need me to go up there.”

“Is everything okay with bun’?”

“I don’t know her teacher wouldn’t tell me anything. I’m sure she’s fine, she probably just got into it with a kid in her class again.”

“Okay, call me when you find out what’s goin’ on.”

“I will. Alright I’m off, and make sure they actually do their job correctly this time.”

“I got it, go on.”

After that Joel made his way to the truck. Even though he says he’s sure she’s fine, he couldn’t help but worry about you. The tone of your teacher didn’t sound good at all. She sounded worried. And sad? Were you sick? He could deal with a common cold, but your teachers tone indicated something worse than that. And there has been a deadly virus going around the world, it hasn’t made it to America yet at least that’s what they’re telling everyone. But what if it has made it over seas? There’s no cure for it, and what if you had it? That couldn’t happen, to you or Sarah. He wouldn’t know what he would do if he lost one of you. No. Stop. That’s not going to happen. That would never happen. He hates when his mind gets like this, but as a single father the need to protect the two of you is the most important thing to him, and that makes him worry even more because that’s something he can’t ever fail at, and he doesn’t even want to think what’ll happen if he does.

He gets out of the truck and speed walks towards your classroom. He had gotten into his own head, but there’s something inside of him that’s telling him this is as serious as it feels.

“Mr. Miller.” He turns upon hearing his name being called, seeing your teacher standing in the doorway of the office.

“Where is she?” He asks as he makes his way to her. Once he got close enough he realized the tone in her voice wasn’t sadness, but pity? Why would she pity him, and where were you?

“She’s in the principals office. But! But before you go in we should probably explain what happened and why.” She said stopping him from brushing past her.

“What did she get into a fight with another kid or somethin’?” Joel ask impatiently.

“No-”

“Okay, then it can wait.” He moves to fast for her to stop and walks into the principals office to see you sitting in a chair with dried tear stain down your cheeks. He quickly kneeled in front of you gently grasping your hands in his.

“What’s wrong, babygirl. What happened?”

“I wanna go home.” You mumbled

“Ok, you want to tell me why?”

“Mr. Miller, we really need to talk to you.” The principal finally spoke up motioning to the officer hallway. He huffed as he stood up and followed the principal out, but not before he kissed your forehead and told you that he would be back.

“Okay, what’s so important that you had to drag me away from my daughter, who’s been crying? And why is she crying? I swear if that Richardson kid put her hands on her again-” He was annoyed with everyone at this point everyone besides you obviously, he just doesn’t understand why they couldn’t tell him while he comforted his daughter.

“We’re sorry, Mr. Miller. We just didn’t want to make her think that she was in trouble, we just got her to calm down.”

“So, she’s fine?”

“Physically, yes.”

“What? What does that mean?”

“Ms. Elizabeth?” The principal could he was getting upset so she found it best to let your teacher explain what happened.

“Mr. Miller.”

“Would y’all stop calling my damn name and actually tell what the hell’s going on with my daughter?

“Well (Y/n) has been in an agitated mood all day, but that’s not the problem. Uhm, the kids just got back from lunch about 30 to 40 minutes ago, and after they eat I usually let them have play time before I start their last lesson for the day before nap time. Today during play time (Y/n) had a little outburst.” Elizabeth knew she was beating around the bush, but that’s because she has heard this conversation happen many times with other teachers and parents and most often than not the parents don’t respond to well.

“Little outburst?”

“Well not really an outburst, but more of a meltdown. This is the special needs teacher, Ms. Thomson, and a friend of mine so I know what signs to look out for in a child. And (Y/n) has been showing these signs since the beginning of the year. They can be overlooked especially in girls and be seen as ‘normal’ and in a way it is. For her anyway.”

“What are you talking about? Signs for what?” Joel asked in frustrated tone.

Ms. Elizabeth look over at the special needs teacher to nervous to continue, and to make sure that she’s positive of (Y/n)’s condition. To which her friend responded with a nod.

“We think (Y/n) has autism. And before you say anything, the signs are all there. I’ve been watching her since her first day of becoming my student. And we highly recommend that she be tested.”

“What? She’s not autistic. I think I would know if my daughter had autism. Look at her, does she look autistic to you?”

“Autism doesn’t always have a look Mr. Miller, and just because she doesn’t have a physical disablement doesn’t mean she’ll be any less autistic than someone with one. That’s why we recommend getting her tested to find out how far she is on the spectrum.”

“You sound so sure that, that’s what it is. How did y’all come up with autism from her having a ‘meltdown’? And what do you mean by meltdown?”

“Well after I sent the kids to go off and begin playing I noticed (Y/n) hadn’t moved from the table, she just sat there, covering her ears with tears in her eyes. She had been in that position since they came back from lunch. When I asked her what was wrong, she told me the other kids were being too loud. But before I could offer a solution the students behind us started screaming louder than what they were, which triggered somewhat of chain reaction with the rest of the class, so I turned around make sure everything was ok but when I that’s when (Y/n) ran to the bathroom and locked herself in. I had to send the other kids to sit in a classroom with another teacher. (Y/n) was crying. Sobbing. When I unlocked the door she was sitting in the corner squeezing the sides of her head so hard it looked painful. All to try and block out the world because it was too much for her. It broke my heart to see her like that because (Y/n) is sweetest little girl I’ve ever met, and to see her in pain like, any child, it’s a hard thing to see. I had to wrestle with her a little to keep her from hurting herself, but I was able to get her calm enough to sit her in my lap and have her hold onto me while I called Ms. Thomson, who was able to calm her further until she reassociated with everything around her.

“Pain?” That’s when the special needs teacher finally decided to step in and say something.

“It’s called a sensory overload, Mr. Miller. It’s very common in the Autism Spectrum. It’s when someone on the spectrum becomes to overwhelmed with the world around them, and if they can’t find some kind of outlet from everything more than likely it’s going to cause a break down in one way or another.”

“That doesn’t mean she’s autistic-“

“Mr. Miller. Does (Y/n) walk on her tippy toes?

“Yeah, but all babies do that.”

“How does she act when she is in a large crowd or around someone she doesn’t know.” Ms. Thomson was completely calm while asking these questions. Knowing that getting agitated or saying something wrong could keep you from getting the help you need.

“The same as any other kid.”

“Does she get in mood where she doesn’t want to talk or just can’t talk in general?”

“Ok look, you’re only naming things all kids do.”

“Yes, but like every thing else on the spectrum there’s a line where it occurs more than it should. Let me ask you one more question Mr. Miller.

He doesn’t even reply he only took a breath to let her know he didn’t want to talk about the topic anymore. Still in denial, even after everything they just told him.

“Does she tend to twitch, or repeat her movements? Have you ever seen her stiffen or strain her body?” Joel didn’t even reply.

“Your silence speaks volumes Mr. Miller. Please, get her tested. It will help her make it in a society that wasn’t made for her. Giving her benefits she can use to even the playing field with neurotypicals. Don’t you think she deserves that?” Joel really didn’t want to accept this. Knowing that if you are autistic, you’ll face more difficulties in life. All because you were different. Difficulties you’re already facing, he just didn’t want to admit it.

“What do I need do to get her tested?” Joel asked after his little debate. All he can hope that the test comes out as negative, but that’s a long shot, given the special needs teacher already seems so sure, the test was just to confirm it.

Ms. Thomson who was smiling after hearing his agreement answered him. “Nothing, I already have an appointment set up for her with a neurodevelopmental pediatrician, who is also a good friend of mine. So, as soon as she finishes with the evaluation you will get the results. I just needed your approval.”

“Okay. Uh, thank you.”

“No problem.”

“Is it ok if I take her home?” Joel ask looking towards your teacher.

“Yes, I think that’s the best thing for her right now. Being in her safe space with all her things will help her get some much needed rest. I will write down the appointment information and what you’ll need for the evaluation and put it in her backpack for you.”

“Thank you.” After that Joel walked back into the office to see you playing with one of the pens on the principals desk in one hand and your head laying on top of the other. “Hey babygirl. You want to go home?” He asked as he kneeled in front of the chair, while making sure to keep his voice at a low level. Once you nodded he stood up, gently grabbed your hand, and the two of you went to get your bag and appointment information.

January 20, 2003 - 1:00 p.m.

Joel and Tommy were on their lunch break at a burger place when Joel’s phone started ringing. He cleaned his hands and took his phone out it’s carrying case before answering. “Hello?”

“Is this Joel Miller?” A woman’s voice.

“Yeah?”

“Oh, good. This is Tonia, the neurodevelopmental pediatrician that did (Y/n)’s evaluation.”

“Right, so what were the results?”

“Well, the documents are ready for you to come and get them, and I will break everything down once you get here, if you want.”

“Uhhhh yeah, I’ll be there in about 20-25 minutes.”

“Ok, see you then. Bye bye.”

“Bye. Get up Tommy, we gotta go.”

“I’m still eatin’”

“Tommy, bring it with you. Jesus.” Joel mumbled as he rolled his eyes at his younger brother.

They made it to the building, and Joel was doing his best to remember the way to the correct office while also trying to calm his anxious mind. When they made it to the office, Joel knocked on the door frame of the open door before walking in Tonia’s office.

“Here you go.” She said as she handed the papers to Joel who noticed it was about 15 pages.

“Wha-what am I looking at?” He asked looking up at the pediatric who let out a low chuckle, she gets the same reaction from almost all of the parents she encounters.

“Well first things first, I’ve concluded (Y/n) does have ASD. She is what we call a high-functioning autistic, and I came up with that diagnosis based on her teacher’s observations, your own, and from the activities I had her to do. The evaluation explains everything of what that means in detail like her sensitivity to sounds, her not liking to touch certain things, lack of social skills, etcétera.”

“So, what does this mean for her?”

“Well, she can stay in Ms. Elizabeth’s class, there’s no need to move her to the special needs class permanently. But she does have special education, and all that means is that Ms. Thomson will take her in her classroom to help her find ways to calm herself when she feels herself getting overstimulated. Or if she can’t and Ms. Elizabeth sees she is getting overwhelmed or she tells Ms. Elizabeth she’s getting overwhelmed they’ll send her to Ms. Thomson class or a quiet place for her to calm down. And maybe she’ll even have better luck with making friends in the special needs classroom than she does in her regular class. And education wise it means when she gets test she can go to a different classroom to take it and she’ll be able receive more time on any tests she has to take as well.” She looked up from her notes, making sure she got all the main checkpoints, but when she did Joel’s face told her everything she needed to know.

“Mr. Miller, the worst thing you can do for her is to feel bad for her. There’s no reason too.”

“No reason to? The whole point of this was to make sure she gets the help she needs to keep up with everyone else.”

“No, the reason for this was to make sure she had the help if and when she needs it. Academically (Y/n) is one of the smartest kids in her class, actually in her grade. It might take more effort, but she’s keeping up with her classmates. Some of the worst things you can do is pity her, hold her back due to being overprotective, or use it as an excuse to make her seem more fragile. I’m not saying she’s not going to have challenges because she is, but all you have to do is stay beside and make sure she keeps working at it till she gets it. And stay way from describing her condition as ‘slow’ or ‘retarded’. And you can’t punish her because of her stimming or overstimulated behavior. Not saying that you would! I mean- you just wouldn’t believe how many parents would get agitated and angry about things their child can’t control, but I’m sure you’ll be fine. You’re attentive to her, and that’s something she’s going to need from you growing up.” Joel nodded in understanding still skimming through the evaluation packet.

“Thank you for doing this in such short notice.”

“No problem. She’s one of the sweetest kids I’ve met. And cutest.” That caused a smile to appear on Joel’s face. He hasn’t been able to smile much since Thursday, always thinking about you and the whole situation. Which has been weighing on his mind literally 24/7.

“Thank you for this, you have a nice day.” He said before turning around to leave out the office.

“You as well.” She replied also smiling at Tommy, who smiled and winked back, reaching his goal of getting her to laugh.

Joel barely made through the door before Sarah hit him with a “what’d she say?”

“Uhhh- where’s (Y/n)? And how’d you know she called?”

“She called the house phone first. And (Y/n) is upstairs, I just got her out the tub, which she didn’t like, at all.”

“She didn’t want to get out?”

“No, she didn’t want to get in. But she should be finished putting on her pajamas by now.”

“Ok, go get her and I’ll tell y’all the results.”

“Ok.” Sarah ran upstairs to get you, when you both got down stairs and sat on the couch, Sarah sat on the right side of Joel, and he picked you up and sat you on his lap tucking you into his side.

“How was school today, honey.” Joel turning his head towards you.

“Good. Ms. Elizabeth gave me headphones to put on my ears when everything got too loud again.”

“Did she? That was real nice of her.”

“Yeah. How was your day, daddy?”

“It was really good, babygirl. Thank you for asking.” The smile you gave him made his whole day. He thought back to what the pediatrician said about not pitying you because that’s not something you need from him. Looking at you now he realized she was right. He’s going to do his best to give you what you need. Whatever it may be, and he knows you’re going to grow into a smart and beautiful woman. He reached down and kissed your temple getting laugh out of you, a sound he would never get tired of.

Joel turned his towards Sarah, about to ask her how her day went stopped him before he started.

“My day was fine, the same. What did she say?” Joel paused for a second before he chuckled at her before pointing to the where he sat the evaluation.

“That’s the paper, she gave me that explains everything.” He blinked and Sarah had the papers in her hand, while she started reading he turned back to you to explain everything to you somehow.

“Ok babygirl. Do you remember test you had to take with the lady a few days ago?” After you nodded he continued. “You remember she told you it’s going let us know if you think differently than everybody else?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it turns out you do.”

“Is that bad?”

“No! No, no, no. It’s not bad at all, and don’t let anyone tell you that it is. Ok?”

“Ok.”’

“All it means is some things may be a little harder or more overwhelming to you than other people, but it also means better at other things too.”

“Like what?”

“Like being artistic, and solving puzzles. But it also means you can be smarter than others in your class. You may have to learn some things in a different way, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be smarter. You already are. Ms. Elizabeth told me you were one of the smartest people in your grade.”

“She did!?”

“She did.”

“Wow.” You whispered in awe.

“Yeah, that’s a big deal, and daddy is so proud of you. You remember that, ok? No matter how big you get.”

“I promise, daddy.”

“Good. I love you babygirl.” He said, pressing another kiss to your temple.

“I love you too, daddy.” You said placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Awwwww, that’s so sweet. What are we eating for dinner? I’m hungry.” Sarah interrupted and Joel huffed out a laughed placing a quick kiss on her temple as well.

“I’m proud of you too baby.”

“I know, dad.” She said softly smiling.

“How about we go out for dinner? I really don’t feel like cookin’.”

“Fine with me. Come on (Y/n), let’s go put some clothes on.”

“Okay!” You said as you jumped up from Joel’s lap and ran off to catch up to your big sister.

A/n: Long story short the story was too long🤭🙇‍♀️😭 so I decided to split it into two parts. I hope you guys enjoy, sorry I took so long. But I love you guys for being patient, I really appreciate it.

#joel miller x autistic!reader #joel miller x platonic!reader #joel miller x daughter!reader #joel miller x reader #hbo tlou #tlou fanfiction #A New Diagnosis #joel miller x autistic!daughter!reader #joel miller x autistic daughter!reader

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shadowed-dancer · 4 months

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Horikoshi recently revealed that Endeavor was supposed to die during the PLF war and that honestly validates something I've been feeling but couldn't quite articulate: "Horikoshi doesn't know who the central Todoroki is" (or he does, but he changed it halfway through to the worse option)

Endeavor dying would have been AMAZING if Shoto were the central character in the Todoroki subplot. The main reason this is so is that Endeavor would be out of the way. Shoto would have full reigns on how he wants to handle Touya (the "final villain" of the Todoroki subplot), and the rest of the family can play a role in this as a supporting cast.

However, Shoto is NOT the central character in the Todoroki subplot. Or, at least, he used to be, but he's not anymore. He's not allowed to have a final fight with Touya because Touya needs to still confront Endeavor. Regardless of how that fight ends, whether it's Shoto saving his brother or knocking him out, Shoto isn't allowed to end the conflict until Touya and Endeavor interact.

At the start of the series, it was really obvious that Shoto was the central figure (and was our pov character) for his family drama. During the sports festival, HE'S the one who shared the backstory. The flashbacks are framed around what HE saw. HE is the one taking a step forward to fix his family, and it starts with reconciling with his mom. At this point, Endeavor is what I'll call "the instigator". He is the cause for the family drama, and though we may not know Touya at this point, Endeavor has already released the future final boss of the subplot into the world.

In the Pro Hero arc, Endeavor becomes his own central figure as a pov character into the world of pros. He then overlaps with the Todoroki subplot by wanting to atone and remove himself from the role of the instigator. The thing is, he can't. What was done cannot be undone, and the most he can do at this point is try to make things better for his family moving forward. At this point, he and Shoto can coexist as central figures because the final boss has not yet been introduced.

The second Touya confirmed his identity, either Endeavor or Shoto had to stop being the central figure. Having Touya need to fight two heroes before being able to come to any end just feels sloppy, and since Shoto was given the first fight, it makes him seem like the less important figure. Even Touya doesn't care! He spends a good chunk of the fight talking about how he'd rather fight Endeavor. This makes Endeavor into the central figure as he is now the one to end the fight. HE'S the one the final boss has been waiting for, not Shoto.

The thing is, this started as Shoto's story, so it would have made sense for it to end as Shoto's story as well. Even if it meant killing Endeavor to force Shoto to be the ONLY central figure (probably to Touya's dismay) it would have allowed Shoto the space he needed to lead the ending he deserved, rather than be pushed to a side character.

TL;DR Endeavor surviving forced Shoto into the role of a supporting character in a plot line that started as SHOTO'S plot line.

#bnha #bnha spoilers #bnha critical #shoto todoroki #touya todoroki #dabi #enji todoroki #endeavor #bnha meta

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ffb6c1lover · 5 months

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Why I think the Madrigals believed Bruno to be dead

The adults only speak about him in past tense. "Bruno didn't care about this family". As far as she knows, if he's still alive and not back it means he actively still doesn't care about the family, so why not say that? Félix also speaks in past tense ("You better figure it out, because it was coming for you"). Julieta's "My brother Bruno lost his way in this family" makes sense regardless of whether she thought he'd died or not, but to me it does sound very final. Pepa cannot even hear his name without thundering. With the amount of love she has for him, the thought that he might have made himself a happier life in a town that does not shun him should bring her at least a bit of comfort, but she's inconsolable even after so much time. I'm sure there are more examples of this and if I can think of them, I'll add them in the replies.

The door going dark. Now, we know it stopped being lit because he had decided not to use his power anymore, but it makes far more sense for it to be because he couldn't use his power anymore (because he was dead). Casita, much like Bruno, can tell the future, so she knew he was going to use it again, the vow did not really count for anything. Are you telling me that anytime a family member leaves their room and considers not using their power for a while their door goes black?? It makes a lot more sense for the family to have thought he had died. The same applies for Casita not being able to help inside the room: it sounds like a metaphor for the Madrigals not being able to help Bruno anymore.

The deleted scene. In the "Chores!" deleted scene, Félix talks about a fight Bruno had with the family (possibly even the moment he left the family?). In this scene, Bruno displays actual suicidal tendencies ("I wish I was dead!"), and, when he leaves, his room starts rotting and decaying. This scene was removed in the final movie, because it is clearly too dark for kids, but we have no reason to believe that it is not still canon in the universe, as we can see that his room is actually decaying and falling apart. If a family member tells you they wish they were dead and then disappear leaving no trace, it is not a crazy jump to think they are not still alive, especially considering the next point.

Bruno left behind most of his belongings. We do not know how much stuff Bruno had in the first place, but when he leaves his room after the vision, we do not see him holding a bag (or anything really) and even if it's there, it is definitely not a bag big enough to sustain someone leaving their home for good. The stuff he has in the walls was likely gathered long after his family had stopped searching for him. He also has no money and the social skills of a rat, where was he even going??

The room falling apart. Not entirely sure about this, but I think the characters' rooms reflect somewhat the emotional state of their owners (Isabela's room in What Else Can I Do + if I'm not mistaken, Camilo's room is supposed to change colour based on his mood like a chameleon). This is further demonstrated by the stairs, which had been growing for years before Bruno actually left. This is a bit of a stretch, but I think the family could have seen one of two alarm bells in the decaying room: a) Bruno's room was decaying like him (kinda gruesome, but it makes some semblance of sense); b) it did not change at all for 10 years. I don't think rooms change only when their owner is in them, so Bruno's emotional state supposedly not changing for so long is alarming. But again, this point is the one that convinces me the least.

Dolores. Dolores mentions hearing Bruno in the walls three (3) times, in the movie alone: in We Don't Talk About Bruno, at breakfast ("and the rats talking in the walls") and in All of You. It's been ten years and she still mentions him constantly, so she's probably been talking about it since the very beginning, but no one believed her. So, a child keeps hearing their relative who disappeared without a trace in their family home, without seeing him and with everyone saying it wasn't possible. Logical conclusion? It's a ghost.

The family's reactions to him returning. Alma is the most striking. It takes quite a long time for her shocked face to wear off. Julieta is equally shocked as well, like she'd never expected to see him ever again. It could also be she just didn't expect him to come back. Pepa looks relieved, like she'd been on edge for 10 years and can finally know peace. Why would that be? The fact that he's back does not mean they are going to rekindle their relationship, but it does mean that she gets a new chance to show him she loves him, being the first to run to hug him. Her eyebags also show many a sleepless nights tossing and turning, maybe feeling guilty because she hadn't shown him her love enough and she thought she never could again.

Bonus: "The mountains around the Encanto are pretty tall!" In this scene, after Bruno says this sentence, he makes a weird face, like he's already considered how tall the mountains are and he's trying to understand if Mirabel caught onto that.

#bruno madrigal #encanto #pepa madrigal #alma madrigal #julieta madrigal #dolores madrigal

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deer-with-a-stick · 8 months

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Idk if the people complaining about the BG3 endings are D&D players or not but like...this does feel like the ending of a campaign y'know. Sacrifices are made, people are stubborn and time is short so sometimes you have to choose between npcs who could have worked together but won't, and the thing with character arcs.

If you finished them, the companions' arcs are complete emotionally I think (except for Karlach rip, although I hope Larian does make up for it. Late-addition I guess :/). Lae'zel breaks free of her indoctrination, Shadowheart discovers who she is and now has the choice to decide who she can be, Astarion's learned enough things about himself that he's almost a completely different character by the end of it, Gale's gotten over Mystra and over his constant need to be better and stronger (this is all assuming the "Good Endings"), Wyll's broken his pact with Mizora and it makes sense for his character to keep trying to help people, whether that's by becoming the Blade of Avernus or otherwise.

Life goes on after the campaign ends. Characters move on, and for characters like the BG3 ones, where it ended at level 12, it makes sense that they wouldn't settle down in a place to chill and have a fairytale ending. They have the last tiny part of their stories to complete.

I think the reason it funnels a little right at the big moment (where it ends up being "Choose Orpheus or the Emperor," and "Choose who to become the illithid or let Gale explode") is because for these big last boss fights, there tends to have to be a sacrifice. I know there might be some bugs or whatnot, or people wanted more knowledge about what was going to happen to everyone else, but this is still a roleplaying game? Should I remind you that in BG3, you are, in fact, roleplaying as Tav/Origin Character?

That's the reason why you learn more about what a companion does after defeating the Netherbrain if you play as them and why if you play as Tav, you don't know what comes next.

For the few D&D campaigns I've played, at the end of it, it's always just been the players deciding individually what happens to the characters. Sometimes, they've died. Sometimes, they've continued adventuring and end up making appearances in the next campaigns, and sometimes they just had their fairytale ending. (From what I've seen the ending is quite a bit bugged and once Larian fixes that it'll probably please a bunch of people. My thoughts are incredibly disjointed right now but hjkrhlakjsdfh)

Those open-ended endings are good, I think. Lae'zel's always been a fighter, regardless of whether it was because of Vlaakith or not. She's always been steadfast in her beliefs and will stop at nearly nothing to make sure she accomplishes what she's set her mind to. She's got a code of honor, even if that code might skew towards "evil," so it makes complete sense that she would want to return to the Astral Plane to stop Vlaakith. What becomes of her and her mission, we don't know, because Tav, in that moment, is not in the Astral Plane with Lae'zel.

Shadowheart's arc was about reclaiming herself, so to speak. And that's hard when you've been brainwashed by a goddess for the majority of your life. Ironically, the whole theme of "Loss" is always prevalent, whether it's because she serves Shar or because she's let her parents go. Unlike Lae'zel, her purpose now is something vague: live your life. She doesn't know what exactly to do, so she heads off by herself. She doesn't know where she's going exactly, and so therefore Tav wouldn't either.

Astarion's ending pissed people off, and I do kind of wish that if you kept Gale's True Resurrection scroll, you could cure him, but it makes sense I suppose. If you kept him from becoming Vampire Ascendent, it signifies that he's finally free of Cazador and that he's finally free of his near all-consuming quest for power. The ability to walk in the sun is a power, and when he burns after the tadpoles die, it's because he's given up that power earlier, but is a better person because of that. I believe that if you do an Astarion Origin ending, it turns out that he heads to the Underdark to lead the vampire spawn because he's taking responsibility. He's becoming a leader where Cazador had been a tyrant

For Gale, his entire storyline is just him walking on a knife's edge. He's somewhere between desperately trying to live and trying to find some convenient time to die, between loving Mystra and hating her, between wanting more power and being content with what he has. The end (find the crown, give it to mystra) is a fitting ending I think. I honestly don't think Mystra's a very good goddess to hold the attention of, but he realizes that a) he's got a little obsessive and b) he doesn't need more power and that he'll be content just to be Gale Dekarios. So it makes sense for him to quite literally just settle down somewhere. He doesn't have the urge to make himself stronger and better constantly, and he won't end up killing all of Waterdeep. He's free to live at home, do wizard things, and have Tara yell at him for poor life choices.

And Wyll's Blade of Avernus ending makes sense (even if he didn't sell his soul to Mizora forever: I think you can get this ending if you save his father anyway). He's got his hero complex. His daddy issues aren't so much a problem and the pact is gone (you can break the pact and then hurry to the prison I believe), but he's going to keep fighting, keep being a hero. If Karlach's dying, he's definitely the kind of person to jump at the chance to help her, even if that means going to Avernus. Besides, he can keep killing demons and devils there.

I will agree that its a bit annoying (because again, I definitely think that Act 1 is the most thought-through and polished piece, and there are bugs abound in Act 2 and 3) but seeing Larian's response so far (we've got Patch 1 and 2 confirmed already, with the possibility of a DLC not off the table), people who were disappointed should still have hope.

Just be warned that the perfect fairy tale ending probably isn't possible, but your companions will still be happy. This isn't new: take LOTR for example. Faramir's father and brother are still dead, but at the end of everything, he'll still be happy. He'll have some more action when he cleans out Minas Ithil, but in the end, despite everything he's lost, he'll be happy. Frodo is heavily scarred by his experience, and perhaps it's not the best ending per say, by the end of the day, people and life move on, and we know that Frodo will be happy in Valinor.

(This is unfiltered rambling I'll probably edit or delete this later)

(This is also probably because I love the bittersweet endings, although I understand that most people probably hate them)

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spacexseven · 1 year

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would demon dazai n chuuya ever join forces and share a darling? i imagine itd be a huge mess if they both took interest in the same darling so im curious if you think theyd be able to share or if all hell breaks loose once they find out theyre going after the same person :3c

love this au, ure doing a great job ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ

hello user teethsies!! its always nice to hear from u huehue ^^ for more demon bsd content, check out the #demon au 🐟 tag!

cw: yandere characters + themes, violence

according to your very reliable source, the ritual was only supposed to summon one (1) demon.

but inhabiting your space now was not one, but two demons.

you tried to calm yourself down first before either of them could fully realize what had happened. maybe they were a package deal—unable to summon one without the other tagging alone, and you could ask them nicely to go back so you could summon the one you wanted. or maybe it didn't matter. the reason why you wanted to summon a demon didn't change just because there were two now, anyway, so as long as they were bound to you (at least, that was what was supposed to happen), you could make them do your bidding and promise to send them back right after.

but of course, none of that happened. for starters, your new housemates abhorred each other, and your so-called binding had no effect on them. it seemed you had, instead of summoning a particular demon, opened up a portal of some sort that the two happened to come across, which meant that you held no power over them.

to make it all worse, they were both completely deranged.

you're not sure what you were expecting from a demon, but it was foolish of you to think they didn't deal in trickery and torment. dazai was a master in both, somehow able to even make an invitation to stay in his torture chamber enticing (until you, fortunately, snapped out of it and realized just what that would entail). chuuya, though he never threatened you, had a permanent sneer on his face, and from the little conversation you overheard between him and dazai, was also no stranger to violent, cruel tactics.

it didn't matter why you wanted to summon them. dazai finds it silly anyway, whether it was for revenge or curiosity, the fact that you believed you could do such a thing and still be alive by the end of it was almost cute, and chuuya had made sure you knew how angry he was that you thought you could boss him around. regardless, they were here now, and...they were refusing to leave.

in retrospect, it was quite obvious when they were starting to take interest in you. dazai had always been a little too interested in you, apart from studying your clipped nails, which were completely different from his own claw-like ones, and constantly pointing out how small and human you looked, dazai found everything about you entertaining. he especially liked to make you frustrated, turning off your computer in the middle of your game, mixing salt into your sugar, hiding away your phone—little things that ruined your day,

chuuya, on the other hand, was a little harder to figure out. he seemed to hold a grudge against you, but there were times where he'd be almost...nice. after a particularly rough day or a night where you couldn't sleep thanks to someone deciding to also sleep right on top of you, you'd wake up to see your favorite drink waiting for you and all of dazai's usual tricks sorted out in advance. of course, he wasn't completely innocent. he had his own fair share of tricks, though never as bad as dazai's. chuuya was also a lot more familiar with the human world, and provided surprisingly good advice when you needed it.

the problem with the whole arrangement is that dazai cannot share anything, let alone his new human toy. he's suffocatingly possessive, and painfully competitive, constantly wanting you to spend more time with him and be nicer to him and smile more at him and—it went on. once he realizes that chuuya's warming up to you, he immediately starts plotting for damage control. he tries to send chuuya back and convince you that chuuya was only going to hurt you. while chuuya isn't opposed to the idea, dazai's hostility on spurs him on. having the two of you like the same darling will only end up in a lot of fighting.

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honeydippedwaffles · 7 months

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Request: Our Intertwined Fates

Request Information: A set of possibly two or three parts surrounding one my mutual's favourite, non-companion characters in the game: Rolan. This in a look at how Rolan and Tav's relationship builds over the course of the story from a friendship to something more.

Tav is not referred to by name.

Content Warnings: She/Her Tav

Word Count: 2.1k words

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

The scent of rust mingled awfully with the flowering bushes surrounding the grove. Something felt wrong about strolling into such a place with goblin blood still drying on her armour and the cling of an abduction over her shoulders.

She did so regardless, muscles strung tight from a battle nearly lost and an argument she could scarcely defuse. Who knew helping somebody out would cause such trouble.

“We’re off to a great start,” she said to nobody in particular. “Barely free of some wretched pod and already we’re wrapped up in another conflict.”

Her companions and her had crashed into this isolated area of coastline just the very morning they stumbled into this grove. How they’d managed to get themselves involved in whatever impossible argument was occurring between tieflings and druids escaped her understanding.

“This really isn’t our business,” she admitted to them when they looked at her. “But I suppose if we’re going there anyway, the least we can do is talk to the head druid? It won’t do any harm.”

She lied to herself like that sometimes.

If somebody asked her for help, she’d never been able to turn them down. Offering her assistance felt negligible in the grand scheme of things and this conflict really seemed to have a solution she could find. It would help also, to have the grove’s knowledge on her side.

Those excuses really didn’t feel genuine when the threat of a tadpole behind her eyes lingered.

Yet despite having it in mind, when she overheard an argument, she couldn’t help herself but stop to listen. The trio of tieflings sounded so irritated with one another as they fought about whether they should remain with the group or forge their own path to the city. A fight they’d clearly gone over before if the exasperation said anything.

“Don’t be ridiculous, we don’t even know these people. I’m not sticking my neck out for every person we come across. With my magic, we have nothing to fear about the path to Baldur’s Gate as long as we leave now.”

“Just because we don’t know them doesn’t mean we should abandon them here. What use are all our spells and blades if we don’t even use them to help people.”

She listened curiously, not planning on interjecting but also wondering about the goal of Baldur’s Gate. Some things unfortunately rarely changed and she couldn’t help but worry for this group. “Does Baldur’s Gate welcome tieflings at all?”

Her question directed itself at nobody in particular and yet, she must have spoken loud enough for them to hear as the three all turned to her with various expressions of disinterest or appreciation. She shifted uncomfortably beneath their gazes and smiled to show she hadn’t meant to get involved.

“More so than other cities,” one of the tieflings answered. “Perhaps they’ll stare but nobody will pull a blade out. It doesn’t really matter either way because I’ll be welcomed. You’re speaking to the recently accepted apprentice of the great wizard Lorroakan.”

Tall, haughty, and certainly pretty enough to be a wizard rather than a fighter, she could tell he had a great deal of trust in what he said.

Maybe even too much.

Lorroakan sounded familiar but she couldn’t place why it felt wrong. A wizard certainly but not one whose name carried very good rumours alongside it. She could share what she knew but to do so felt wrong and so she smiled.

“Congratulations,” she urged. “You must certainly be very talented to earn yourself such a grand apprenticeship.”

“I assure you, I am.”

“Then it sounds as though your help could be invaluable to these people who are blessed with neither magic nor fighting skill.” Her gaze drifted to where children and others attempted to spar with sloppily created training dummies. “Honestly, I believe they’ll need all the help they can get.”

He frowned; caught in the small trap she’d created through his own confidence. She felt a little bad for taking advantage of his arrogance but she hadn’t been lying when she commented on the tieflings.

They probably wouldn’t survive a day against the goblins.

“That’s what I’ve been saying. We have to stay and help.”

The wizard looked between her and the others before he threw his hands up in agitation. “Fine but if we end up rotting on a road because of this, it’ll all be your fault.”

He stormed off and she glanced awkwardly at the others. Perhaps she had overestimated their skills but she doubted their chances even more if they split from the group and tried to do it alone.

But if they died, the weight would never lift from her shoulders.

“Thank you for intervening. Rolan can get obnoxiously stubborn at times but he’s a good person. He’d have regretted choosing to leave later.”

She laughed awkwardly, unsure how to respond beyond offering her name as a means of introduction before hurrying off. They had so many problems to face, far more dangerous than even taking on a slew of unending goblins. Such a thing could wait until after the worm got removed.

One poisoning later and another child rescued and they took on the very task she’d tried to avoid, regardless of Astarion’s unimpressed complaints about it.

They ended up fighting through a, quite frankly, impossible number of goblins after rescuing a massive druid from the dungeons. Followed it with a battle against shadow druids who were disguising themselves as rats. And then still ended up standing exhausted at a party with the blood not fully washed from her hair.

As tired as she was, she couldn’t skulk away into her tent so early into the night. Everybody wanted to speak to her and she was now avoiding Lae’zel as best she could after the gith caught her off-guard with the strangest proposition she’d ever heard. Flattered, but uninterested, she looked around for help and eventually caught Lia’s eyes.

“What are we doing?” she asked.

“Rolan’s going to put on a show for us,” Lia told her, excited and a little teasing. She, like many of the others, appeared a little tipsy as she gestured to her brother. “Watch.”

“Patience,” Rolan chided. “You have no respect for showmanship.”

“Performance issues,” Cal whispered to her and she laughed behind a palm despite the wizard’s glare.

After all the near misses with fireballs through the day though… well, she really hoped whatever magic he wanted to use involved snow or water. Anything she didn’t have to dodge.

He surprised her pleasantly with neither and the small cascade of dancing lights lit up the sky in pretty shades of blue. She’d seen children do similar magic when first learning of their abilities and it never failed to make her smile.

“He can also make them purple,” Cal told her proudly.

She politely clapped and tried to keep her expression supportive of the tiefling trio. Rolan had skill enough to make something of himself in Baldur’s Gate… if his tutor held up to his expectations.

And, of course, the group had to get there first but she had faith. Zevlor, if nobody else, looked well equipped to shield his group from danger.

“You’ll do brilliantly with the proper training,” she complimented when she noticed Rolan’s gaze hover over her for a second longer. “You can ask Gale about some spare scrolls we found while exploring. They may come in use during your travels.”

Rolan straightened his spine beneath the praise, pleased with his successful show. “I have no need for scrolls but I thank you for the offer.”

She laughed and raised her glass to him. “If you say so. The offer still stands.”

She bid the three siblings good luck with their further travel and stepped away to clear her head, finally seeing an opportunity to seek peace and quiet. The shadows provided some solace as she made her way into the forest.

When she came across a small clearing, she settled on a log. It had been a long day filled with unending waves of enemies and her eyes felt heavier than ever.

She’d almost drifted off when she heard footsteps behind her. Footsteps, clumsy and unused to stalking through the dark. At least she knew it not to be an assassin, she imagined.

Although she’d expected Karlach or Gale rather than the tiefling she saw.

“Rolan?” she asked, confused as to why the wizard had followed her and now hovered uncomfortably at the edge of the clearing.

“Lia made a very good point,” he said, straightening imaginary creases from his robes as he spoke. “Scrolls could be useful if we get into a situation where my magic is lacking.”

She frowned for a second before she remembered her offer and waved back at the party with a smile. “Oh, right. Those are with Gale or one of the others. I don’t know what spells they have but any magic is useful, right?”

“Obviously but they’re mainly for Lia’s peace of mind. I don’t think we’ll have any problems when I have my thunderwave to handle threats.”

She smiled. “I’m sure. Make certain to aim for the nearest cliff.”

A wince followed as she remembered shoving a goblin from one of the rafters earlier in the day. She hadn’t appreciated the crunch of bones or the smear of blood… she hadn’t cleared out a goblin camp before the day and it really didn’t suit her.

“With any hope, you’ll have no need of spells at all,” she said. “I think the path to Baldur’s Gate should be open.”

“If it wasn’t, I don’t think they’d be singing your praises so highly,” he scoffed.

He took a few seconds to place the strange jealousy in his voice as not related to handling the goblin camp but rather the heroism of it. Strange, she’d never thought of a battle as something to be envious of. She certainly left with a great deal of pain in her ribs to show for it and little else.

“Something wrong?” she asked, fixing him with a soft gaze.

Rolan shrugged but she noticed the way his tail flicked, irritated, back and forth. He watched everything besides herself, not truly meeting her eyes as he gazed around the clearing.

“Nothing,” he said. “I’m just hoping you haven’t given my siblings any ridiculous notions about going off and being a hero. They’re not the type to walk through a goblin camp with no problem.”

She smiled, understanding his concerns. “I’m sure they’ll be fine. It’s not about being a hero, it’s about giving help where it’s needed and… I suppose it was selfish too. I needed a healer and Halsin was my only option.”

“A healer?” he repeated, gaze lingering over her bruises. “Did he manage to fix whatever’s wrong with you?”

Her heart thudded a little and her stomach sank. He hadn’t been able to do anything for her. Halsin pointed her in a direction and promised to help but he couldn’t remove the tadpole from her head. Every day, she ended up closer than ever to becoming a creature from her worst nightmares and she could do nothing.

Honestly, it may have contributed more to her mood surrounding the party than the actual exhaustion had.

“No, then?” Rolan asked.

She shook her head and tried to shake free of the worries. “Unfortunately, my condition goes a bit beyond his talents but he did give me a way forward. We’re heading toward Moonrise Towers to look for answers.”

‘You don’t sound confident.”

“It’s hard to be sometimes,” she admitted. “But I don’t really have much of a choice in what I do next.”

He coughed, a little awkward as he shifted his weight from side to side. “Well, I mean you’re clearly more than capable of handling things. I’m sure getting to wherever will be easy enough for your little group of heroes.”

She laughed at the unexpected and strange praise. “Thank you, Rolan.”

He nodded and seemed about to turn around and leave so she stood and the movement momentarily froze him. She leaned forward and pressed a small kiss to cheek in thanks.

“You’re going to do great with your studies,” she said. “I’ll be sure to brag to everyone I know once your name becomes renowned.”

Somebody once told her tieflings couldn’t blush but she swore she saw colour darken the tops of his cheeks even in the dim light of the forest.

Taglist: @miwn8

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #rolan bg3 #bg3 rolan #rolan x tav #rolan/tav

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acotarfrustrations · 4 months

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An ongoing list of ACOWAR grievances I'm keeping track of while I read (because there's too many to make a post about all of them) pt. 2

I'm on chapter 15 now and feeling the urge to complain again so here we go

1) the writing is way too overdramaticized. Like every other paragraph is some remixed version of feyre going "I wondered whether it would be eggs or bacon for breakfast. But when I looked at Rhys I realized that he was giving me my own choice. My mate, my high lord. In our home. With our family. Every thing was always my choice" and its CONSTANT, LIKE OH MY GOD GIRL SHUT UP

2) every thing about Lucien's plotlineand the elain mating thing. I HATE this subplot with a PASSION

3) feyre immediately fucking rhys when she got back instead of going to see her sisters

4) feyre and rhysand acting like they've ben separated for forty centuries instead of a month

5) the contradictions about how the high lord thing works. Like it was established that its a government position given to you through basically fate and being chosen by the cauldron or whatever which is why siblings kill each other for a chance for the throne and yet they just went to a priestess and swore feyre in as high lady?? It makes her title not feel real like it's purely ceremonial. It doesn't even make sense that she would be able to be HL of the night court as she has no more ties to that court than she does any other court. Is it because she's mated to Rhys? I don't understand the HL lord at all, it just keeps changing

6) the fact that Feyre, Rhys, and Cassian tell Lucien about their tragic backstories and everything that's happened to feyre at the NC and he just immediately does a Feyre™️. Like he's suddenly "Oh yeah you had a horrible childhood and took feyre into your found family without letting her explore relationships outside of the IC, that totally makes up for all the evil shit THAT IVE SEEN YOU DO WITH MY OWN 2 EYES. wow i cant believe youre not evil even though you killed 50 winter court children and sexually assaulted your mate and mind raped her constantly to get her to like you"

7) the way they're treating Nesta. It has been a MONTH since she was stolen from her home, brought amongst a race that she is terrified of and THAT ENSLAVED HER PEOPLE, and was forcefully turned into ONE OF THEM and the IC is acting like she's being unreasonable for not wanting to talk to them or to mate with Cassian. WHY THE HELL WOULD SHE EVEN BE THINKING ABOUT CASSIAN RIGHT NOW?? WHY THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO FEEL BAD FOR HIM? Instead of him worrying about how his mate is doing regardless of his own comfort he's like WOE IS ME, SHE DOESNT WANT TO FUCK ME?????? GET OVER IT ASSHOLE?? WHY IS FEYRE EVEN LETTING CASSIAN COME NEAR HER AND ANTAGONIZE HER?? DOESNT SHE LOVE TO FLAUNT HER HL STATUS AROUND?? THIS IS THE TIME TO USE IT, PROTECT YOUR GODDAMN SISTER FROM HIM? ITS SO OBVIOUS THAT SHE DOESNT GIVE NEARLY AS MUCH OF A SHIT ABOUT NESTA AS SHE DOES ELAIN!!

8) the fact that sjm didn't keep cassian's wings shredded. Him learning to live with that would have been a badass character development but now sjm doesn't want me to have good things

9) the mating bond in general. I think it could be a potentially good plot device but no one ever employs it well and sjm is definitely the most egregious with it

10) the fact that the ic never gave consequences for their fucking actions. Feyre dies in acotar? Turn her into a fey and give her ALL of their powers. Stealing a precious artifact that they didn't even end up needing and getting a bounty on their head in the summer court and then getting that court invaded? That's fine because feyre is SOOO brave and says things that are common fucking sense which makes her SOOOO smart so we obviously need her as an ally so we'll just rescind the blood rubies. Getting the spring court sacked? That's fine we didn't like them anyway. Rhys and feyre's bond gets snapped? Well they didn't know about our super secret mating bond that is actually the only thing that gives our characters chemistry so we still like each other. Rhys causes irreparable damage to every court for 50 years and kills 50 kids? Well that's fine he was being held hostage and hey! We don't know he actually killed those kids 😡 Feyre, a 20 year old girl who's been fae for like 6 months and training for even less goes up against thousands of years old beings? She beats them effortlesslessly! Rhys gets sexually assaulted for 50 years! Well he planned all of it so it has no negative consequences on him. Cassian gets his wings shredded? Well he worked really hard and they're fixed now 🥰. Rhys FUCKING DIES?? Well that's no problem, tamlin can just resurrect him, nvm the fact that there's no reason why he WOULD. like no harrowing situation is ever interesting cause we all know sjm isn't actually going to do anything to the ic

11) "my mate" STOP SAYING IT PLS IM BEGGING

12) "males and females" STOP SAYING IT PLS IM BEGGING pt. 2

#anti acowar #anti sjm #anti acotar #anti rhysand #anti feysand #anti sarah j maas #anti ic #anti acomaf #anti inner circle

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five-rivers · 10 days

Text

Cracked Clay Cup Chapter 3

Short one! @greatbigolhampuckjustforme

She was doing it. She was doing it. She was convincing him. She’d been dubious about the whole endeavor. Dubious about its necessity, dubious about her ability to pull it off, dubious about basically becoming Danny’s parent, everything.

But, well, if it was what needed to be done, it was what she would do.

She’d freaked out at first, of course. Hearing about it. Hearing about how many people wanted to take Danny, who’d take advantage of him like that. Hearing about what she’d need to do to keep that from happening. Maybe she and Danny joked about her raising him, but it really wasn’t true.

But then it was happening, regardless of whether or not Danny or Jazz wanted it to happen. And their parents were… Well, they hadn’t been disqualified, but Jazz knew they took a lot of getting used to. She didn’t have high hopes that they would be Danny’s choice.

Jazz, then, would offer another option. Even if Danny picked randomly, two ‘safe’ choices were better than one. He wouldn’t pick randomly, though. He might be exasperating at times, but he was a decent judge of character. She was sure he could sense her intentions, mentions of mad science labs aside.

Considering those questions, her parents definitely wouldn’t be getting him again. It was fine. It was all for the best, really.

Really. Things would be better. After. After all of this was done.

She smiled at herself in the bathroom mirror. No need to bother Danny with her brooding. He’d been here for a week now, and things were going great.

She walked out, stopped by her study, then swung by her study to pick up a few papers before going to the kitchen. Danny was sitting at the table there, working on schoolwork. It’d do no good if she got custody and everything turned out alright on the Danny custody front only for him to completely fail high school!

Okay, that wasn’t entirely true.

Still. She didn’t want this to set back his education.

“Okay, once you finish the English, I have the social studies.”

Danny looked up at her. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m always going to take your education seriously, Danny. It’s important that you stay on track to graduate.”

“I still think that’s sort of redundant for a ghost.”

“Half ghost.”

“I still haven’t seen any evidence about that by the way.”

“Well you would if you transformed.”

“And I’d do that, if you actually describe how I’m supposed to do that.”

“Well, you sort of just did it.” Danny had never given her a lot of details about what being half ghost felt like, or how it worked mechanically. Even though she’d asked. It was awfully inconvenient of him.

Danny shook his head and looked back at his homework. He tapped his pencil on the table a few times, then looked at the top page of the social studies work.

“A presentation?” he asked.

Jazz nodded. “It can be in poster form if you’d like.”

Danny sucked in his lower lip and nodded. “But this is it, right? This is all you want me to do?”

“Well, that and the English essay you have under here.”

Danny pulled out that sheet of paper and grimaced. “You– That’s really– No. No. Nope. No. This is way too much. You can’t expect me to do all this, this much every day.”

“It’s a totally normal high school workload. Seven classes–”

“Doesn’t that normally include PE? And, like, a study hall? Or something fun? Maybe?” He ran his hands through his hair, which had a really strange and fascinating effect on his ears.

“You have astronomy and science, you like that.”

“But I still need to use my brain for it. I’m talking about things I can turn my brain off for. Or whatever it is that ghosts think with. Whatever it is, it’s making my head hurt. I can’t keep going at this pace. I’ll lose it.”

“Don’t be so down on yourself. You can do this. And you do have a brain.”

“You sound very sure of that.”

She’d walked right into Danny’s mad science paranoia again.

“Humans have brains. It’s common sense.”

Danny’s eyes flicked down Jazz’s carefully formulated English assignment once again, and he shook his head. “No. I can’t do this. Not any longer. It’s been a week.” He dropped the paper. “It’s been a week, and there are six other people to talk to, so, thanks for the cool bedroom and not dissecting me but–”

“Danny, wait–” said Jazz, seeing where this was going a split second before Danny raised his hand to the pocketwatch.

She was too late. Danny clicked the button, and he was gone.

“Well,” said Jazz. She sat down at the kitchen table, feeling heavy. “Crap.”

#danny phantom #phic phight

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thydungeongal · 5 months

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What are your thoughts on situations where either a game doesnt have enough rules to cover particular situations and so rely on, or where the rules explicitly and deliberately rely on, irl skills (usually for social situations).

Like, for pathfinder/dnd, its obviously a lack of sufficient rules for how to mechanically carry out complex social situations. But there are plenty of games where this is deliberate, with the understanding being that you are supposed to resolve certain types of social conflict entirely via roleplaying the conversation.

Or another dnd favorite, riddles and puzzles, where it almost inherently requires the players to be good at that sort of thinking, regardless of the character.

I dont actually know quite where Im going with this, since the obvious answer is "play with players who like relying on out of character skills" or "play games where this isnt an issue, and all situations have mechanical means for satisfyingly carrying out stuff like this", but it still feels sort of.... those things are fun! A lot of people Do want to do those things, but just dont have the irl skill to.

It seems sad that a physically disabled player that wants to play as a super competent warrior can do that easily, but if someone with a stutter whos bad at social interactions wants to play a quick-witted bard, they either cant, or they have to do so with what feels like an extra step of removal (while both of them are only playing a character doing the thing, the one playing a warrior can decide exactly what they want their warrior to do in detail, whereas the one playing a bard only gets a summary of what they do/say, unless the GM Is very good at that sort of thing and on top of everything going on enough that they can effectively put the words in the characters mouth, which then opens up a whole new can of worms).

So yea, not even really sure what Im asking, this isnt even a major problem for any of the campaigns I run, was just kind of curious on your thoughts.

This is actually a really cool question, because it's a topic that I've gone back and forth on a lot over the years! I don't think I've yet reached, like, any kind of conclusion yet, but here's where I am at as of now.

So, I think there are basically conflicting ideas in tabletop RPG circles as to whether or not the purpose of RPGs is to challenge the players or challenge the characters. There's even a bit of controversy as to whether the purpose of these games to begin with is to be challenges or to be essentially shared narratives. I don't think these goals are necessarily contradictory, but I think they produce different types of gameplay: a traditional game like Dungeons & Dragons presents itself very much as a "series of challenges" type of game, where the production of a narrative out of the events is almost incidental, where a game like Apocalypse World isn't about presenting challenges, but presenting explosive situations for players to act in, and those situations pretty much by necessity produce interesting and dynamic narratives.

Now, here's one simple truth: games of the former type will always inevitably challenge players in addition to their characters. Character creation is part of play and part of developing as a player is to develop system mastery to be able to figure out which types of characters are most likely to succeed in the types of challenges the game often presents players with. So, even before the narrative starts, players will already be inevitably challenged. Even in game players will be challenged, because they will be asked how to best apply the character they have created. They'll have to think about which tactics are the best in combat, which abilities are the best for which situation, so on and so forth.

So yeah, I do think it's impossible for tabletop RPGs to entirely challenge just the characters, because play already begins at character creation and players will be expected to express system mastery. And I even think there's a bit of a disconnect when talking about your D&Ds and Pathfinders in that these questions of "is it okay to challenge the players" always seem to circle around talking and puzzles instead of what these games are mostly built around: tactical, granular combat. Because especially in combat these games do challenge their players with stuff like "this is your character; this is the opposition; this is the environment. Now how will you solve this goblin puzzle?" I have heard of people who will say stuff like "your Intelligence 8 Barbarian wouldn't know how to flank an enemy" to which I say bah humbug, and have my Intelligence 8 Barbarian flank an enemy, because I think my Intelligence 8 Barbarian can see the connection between having a friend attacking an enemy from one side and that enemy being unable to focus as well on defence. But to be honest, that's besides the point. Most people aren't like that.

Anyway, so yeah I do think that it's impossible NOT to challenge players. But also I don't generally vibe with the idea of expecting players to solve puzzles or convince me, the GM, that an NPC likes them.

I'll talk about the latter first: the mechanics exist for a reason. They're there to take the narrative out of the hands of the players, including the GM. Having to convince the GM to convince an NPC leaves the situation in the hands of the GM, and as you said, doesn't often allow for players to express the character they want to express if they, for an example, are shy or socially awkward. But there's a condition: I the GM still need to know what you're doing. This often gets misread as "You still need to tell me, the GM, what you are saying, exactly as your character would, using your character's voice, before I give you the permission to roll a Charisma check." I don't expect that much. But I need something specific and grounded in the fiction to work with so I know a) which specific skill might apply to this check b) what the potential consequences of success and failure might be. Specificity is what grounds these things in the fiction, and it's actually something that is useful for almost every kind of dice roll in the game (unless it's something where the input and output in the fiction is extremely specific): if you tell me your character wants to Strength check the portcullis I don't really know what you mean. If you say you want your character to lift the portcullis so the rest of the party can slip on under it, now we're cooking, at that changes the situation in a different way than bending the bars on the portcullis to create a gap your party can slip through.

Now the fact is that D&D and Pathfinder don't really have the deepest social mechanics, but that's okay in my opinion. The relatively sparse social mechanics should not, in my opinion, be paved over with a "we expect players do more talking because the mechanics can't." I feel that's fundamentally misunderstanding why these games don't have a lot of mechanics for talky talking: it's because that's not an activity these games have a lot to say about. A Charisma (Persuasion) check or Request action (handled as a Diplomacy check) is just about the level of social interaction these games can be asked to handle, and that's perfectly fine. The amount of social mechanics in a D&D you need is "mechanics for determining whether a creature wants to eat the characters right away and mechanics for convicing a creature not to eat the characters." And okay I guess having the characters ask around for rumors when in town.

So, yeah, players should be able to build Charismatic characters and be able to get meaningful and consistent results out of it in game provided they know where to point their Charisma at. And that's really the thing: we're challenging characters, but it's still the player's responsibility to figure out where they want to point That Thang at and where they want their character to shoot their Charisma beams. Just like a player in combat is asked to make a bunch of specific choices that inform their tactics, checks outside of combat also need to be grounded in the fiction. Your character won't just Charisma check their way through all obstacles, those checks need to be grounded in the fiction.

And finally, we get to puzzles. I emphatically think that puzzles in the sense I've seen them in RPGs are generally a bad fit for your D&Ds, because what they often are actually is singleton mechanics that player character's can't actually interact with meaningfully within the fiction and which are divorced from the rest of the game. Like, sure, they can be fun puzzles, but they're still often completely divorced from the rest of the game. I'm talking your chess board puzzles, your twisting gems puzzles, whatever.

But like, that doesn't mean there isn't a place for puzzles of a type in RPGs, but I think we need to move away from the idea of puzzles as, like, a separate board for players to solve while the game screeches to a halt. And I've already hinted at this: these games already have their own places where they intellectually stimulate and challenge players! More of that, please! So, like, instead of throwing the characters into a situation where they suddenly have to play tic-tac-toe to progress, instead introduce a situation where the players can gauge the situation through what they know about the mechanics of the game and assess the best way for their characters to act! Think about how the last two Legend of Zelda games did away almost entirely with your traditional video game dungeon puzzles and went almost entirely for physics puzzles which test the player's ability to engage with their physics engines! Do that, except with RPG rules! (This is why I actually feel systemic games like D&D 3e and, to a lesser extent, D&D 4e, as well as both editions of Pathfinder, the Hero engine, Rolemaster, and so on, are fantastic for challenge type gaming: because while there are lots of rules they produce consistent results and there's a degree of system mastery to be gained in learning to apply those rules as a player!)

Anyway, so to wrap things up: challenge type RPGs will inevitably challenge players as well as characters and that's okay; social mechanics are good because they allow for player expression and placing the situation outside of the control of all the players; traditional puzzles are not really a good fit for RPGs because they are usually divorced from the rest of the gameplay, and instead we should focus more on presenting game situations that provide a bit of a neat puzzle!

Thank you for this question! And I do think there's a lot of nuance to this whole situation and even though this is a very long answer I also feel that this is barely just scratching the surface.

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