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dykeomania · 1 year

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𝒎𝒊𝒂'𝒔 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃𝒔: parenthood (3).

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: parenthood means stress, and endurance, and exhaustion, and learning curves, and ... sometimes, really, really, really good sex?

𝐚/𝐧: this is my Parenthood (Thought) Piece because i understand that i am mentally 30 but i llloooooooooooveeee a good domesticity concept i eat that shit up nnomnomnonmonmnom. i needed to talk about early parenthood with ellie and i needed to talk about some of the ... Alternate Consequences ... of early parenting .. if you will. this was fun. this was also composed between the hours of like, 2-4am. i think it's pretty literate, and kind of alright. you may have a fun time reading it. if you don't, sorry i'll venmo you a dollar. not ssssure if i really have anything else to say, honestly. proofread (at a very early hour, mind you) but i always make mistakes, i'll always edit over time.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: i understand these tags are like super weird and i always preface my fics like "fuck around and find out," but just to be clear, this fic does not sexualize children in any way. any way. just to really make that clear. mentions of you and ellie being engaged. joel's technically alive. mentions of children. parental uncertainty. stress. a little bit of sub bottom!ellie. we're dipping our toes in. also dom top!ellie. mentions of oral (both receiving), mentions of vaginal penetration (reader receiving). both ellie and the reader being milfs / ellie thinking its really hot how you are a good mom (there are still so many things in this category that i could've hit that im probably not even thinking of, so if y'all like this and wanna talk about them, Please talk to me) i write in past tense for literally all of it and this is just a me thing, but that's not really my style, so things may be .. off. or maybe it's just me. maybe i'm tripping. we'll see. it's like, 4am. so.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.1k, just about (i did too much).

. . . .

you both lived on the farm. it was a quiet, proud little life that you lead. a picturesque actualization of all of the little thoughts and dreams that you and ellie have had about living together, about having a family. though, parenthood was new, and difficult. there were some nights that the baby wouldn't stop crying, and both of you would take turns feeling like shit -- one usually at a grander magnitude than the other -- because neither of you would know what to do. what, am i like, a bad mom? does he hate me? you spent time convincing each other that that is simply not the case, and that this was all part of the process. that you were both new, and learning, and that it's okay.

if you knew nothing else, whether that be due to not having experienced parenthood before or the delirium accompanying the heavy set bags and dark circled ruminating under both of your eyes, then you did know that there were a few things for certain: he will suck his thumb. his cries will turn to wails which will turn to sniffles, which will turn to sighs. he will get tired. he will roll over, and coo, and will go to sleep.... eventually.

granted, while this mentality in general made things easier throughout the early days of raising your newborn son, there was still no doubt that it was.. exhausting. in every way. parenting was a constant learning curve, and it took tolls on both of you in different ways. for ellie, she'd get quiet. snippy, even, and gain a little bit too much audacity at times. a snarky remark or demonstration of blatant impatience towards something minuscule, but still hurtful. her frustration would always point toward some deeper issue that she often struggled met with annoyance first, and words second. one of the first things that ellie learned while parenting was that she was really bad at communicating. she'd find herself throughout the first three, maybe even six months, constantly finding ways to say sorry.. even without saying really having said it. like, slipping into bed when after you'd finally went to sleep, and pressing kisses to your temple. or making sure the dishrack was completely empty, so you'd have one less thing to work about. albeit she struggled to verbally explain that while she understood you were too, she was just.. a little tired.

maybe it was the sleep deprivation, or her willingness to take up most of the tasks that required attention in areas other than just the inside of the home. which.. you did have to admit, were a little bit more intense than cleaning and washing dishes. no one asked her to do all of that. she took it upon herself to do extraneous tasks, like fix the fucking roof, during the peak of summer. and you'd always offer to help, truly. but it was always no, i've got it. you've got other stuff to do. you just go play with him, and i'll be in to take over in a little, okay?

you would, at times, have to sit her down and remind her to take it slow. that the roof isn't really bothering either of you, right now, and it won't until .. october, probably. that it's okay to swap out, if need be. she can do dishes, cook if she wants (burn down the house, if she wants), clean up while you go fix the wiring of the fence, tend to the horses, whatever the fuck she feels the need to do, on top of having to do already.

you would have to remind her, that she just can't do everything all at once. and that's okay. but that's also neither of your faults.

both you and parenthood alike would teach her to .. slow down, take it easy, and to talk.

ellie would have to teach you something similar, believe it or not. your back hurt. your tits wouldn't stop fucking leaking, and ever since you gave birth, you wouldn't stop getting these aching migraines that made your ears ring. you quite literally found yourself bending over backwards, trying to do everything all at once all of the time (sound familiar?), because you knew that it was as much of your job as it was ellie's. you can change the diapers, you can pump the breastmilk, you can clean the house, you can stop him from crying, you can read him books (that he couldn't understand, yet, technically), you could do everything. and theoretically, you could. and you would, until it made you frayed, and unhealthy.

that would be enough to make ellie to step in, put her hand on your shoulder, and advise you in a tone that was about as gentle as it was stern:

hey, let maria take him for a couple of days. you're tense -- i can feel you from across the house.

despite the anxiety and the frustration and the sleep deprivation and the exhaustion, you really would feel grateful to be experiencing this trying time together. there were some patterns characterizing it that were obviously stressful, and anxiety-inducing. but there were some consistencies throughout it that were be sweet, and tender. like, running each other warm baths. sitting – either in the bath, with the other, or on the toilet, or the side of the bath – and talking in low volume, not really out of fear of waking the baby, but just to kind of relish in the pocket of peace that existed between the two of you in that moment. the affection never died between the two of you. you were always snuggling close to each other when it came time for bed. always pressing tender kisses to each other's shoulders, holding each other's hands, circling your thumbs and indexes over each other's engagement rings.

… But!

you know... i'm a whore. so honestly, what really spurred this whole thought, is the fact that .. during parenthood your sex lives would practically be nonexistent. and it's not something that either of you really notice, until one of you explicitly brought it up. raising a child -- especially raising one in an environment that you both worked to keep safe, secured, and comfortable -- is a lot of work.

it wouldn't dawn upon either of you until you both were eating one night at the table - another tradition that you did not forfeit. you managed to dance around the subject due to something entirely tangential, and then it hit you, and you said – out of pure realization, ellie, we haven't had sex in .. like, months.

and just like that, the consequences of at least 98 days of involuntarily celibacy hit you both like a fucking truck.

for you, it came in the form of .. the simple reminder that your soon-to-be-wife is really... really fucking physically flawless. you'd notice this everytime she'd wear short-sleeves, or shirts no sleeves, which was really only.. every once in a while, as jackson got colder, or whenever you both woke up. sometimes you'd find yourself looking at ellie's back profile as she sat upright on the bed, adjacent and turned from you, stretching a big, grand stretch, and you'd feel a specific heat beginning to tickle the insides of your thighs. you found it harder to keep your gazes to yourself as ellie exited the shower, muscles apparent, and glistening. her whole body was littered with scars, and yet she was still so gorgeous. it was hard to believe that even for a second you failed to recall – or be conscious of – the fact that as much of a teddy-bear as she was, you were practically dating a fucking sculpture.

naturally, you would act on your desires first. and frankly, ellie would be so willing to lean into them.

she'd be lying if she said sometimes she didn't wake feeling a bit restless, and like there was only one thing that soothe her. she craved it, sometimes – your hands, on her. all she needed were some quick rubs against her clit and kisses against her skin to motivate her to get out of bed and feed the animals. and she was so, so fortunate to have a fiancée good enough to her to give her just that.

she dared, shame on her, to forget how good you could make her feel. ellie never really let anyone touch her, before she met you. before she met you, she was honestly convinced a lot of the parts "down there" didn't work. she could hardly achieve making herself cum. it’d take so long. ellie hardly masturbated because she’d get impatient in any ordeal that wasn’t some needy, feral 3am occurrence that left her stirring, sweaty, and overwhelmed. it was a lot of buildup for what she saw as, in the end, very little payoff. and as far as other people making her cum went? well, no one had ever gotten that far. frankly, she didn’t think anyone would get that far.

that was until she met you.

it definitely wasn’t easy. there were a lot of tired wrists and upper biceps, and your jaw did get pretty sore. her pussy was gorgeously messy. but her clit liked to hide sometimes underneath the extra skin. when you found it, you learned that it was usually, extremely sensitive. but you told her that that was okay. you could make that work.

you spent a lot of time learning all of the technicalities. what was too much, what wasn’t enough. what to say to her; how fast to rub her.

it paid off, because about a month into dating, you showed her that it — and frankly, anything — was possible. just takes a little bit of time, and patience, kisses and whispers of affirmation how about how good she feels. how good she’s doing. takes some listening, intently, to what she needs. to what her body needs.

can feel you twitching. you want my finger right here?

fuck, yeah. right there. just like that, baby -- please don't fuckin' stop.

and once you got good at it (and you got so fucking good at it), ellie couldn’t get enough. she jokes, regularly, that that’s one of the reasons why she’s going to marry you.

ellie's voice in the mornings would breathless and empty. all bostonian accent, rasp, and nothing else. they were vulnerable. whenever she'd let you between her thighs and you placed those kitten licks across her clit transitioning into these longer, learned drags, her moans would break, like glass. her hips would shuffle. sometimes, you’d have to hold her still.

no no, fucking running. it’s okay. just let me. can you let me? can you let me take care of you, baby?

fuck. yes. yes, yes, fuck. s— sorry just – oh, fuck.

it would mostly just be wake-me-ups. but ellie's back would always be arching by the middle of it. she'd find herself gasping, and sighing, and fucking -- against your tongue, against your finger -- and gripping onto whatever, all while mumbling to gods she didn't believe in.

that feels so, so so fucking – g–good.

so fucking good to me; feels so good, babe, thinki'mgonnacum–

ellie's orgasms hit her the same way every time. hard. ridiculously hard. leaving her breathing heavy, and screwing her eyes shut while she grasped at your hand, or your hair. her thighs would tense -- sometimes scramble -- and then collapse, after a while. she became this perfect amalgamation of tinted cheeks, chapped pink lips, messy brown hair, and sticky skin.

she was such a fucking .. painting. she's so incredible.

the plan, as she wrote it, often was to immediately get out of bed after you made her cum. but oftentimes, she couldn't do anything for the first couple of minutes except lie there, body just a sack of bones and jello. her head would rest instead of pressing into yours, or would nuzzle its way deep into your neck. both occasions a precursor to her finally catching her breath. when she moves her head to kiss you, capturing your lips in something thankful, and sweet, it is almost always grounding for the both of you.

better?

so much better. holy shit, babe.

and that's not to say that ellie would never act on her desires. she was always just a little more calculated.

for ellie, her frustrations would creep up on her in the weirdest ways. it would be.. small things. things that were, actually, probably mutual. watching you wash the dishes, even when you’re not bent in a particularly promiscuous way. watching you cook, even when she wasn't really watching you, 'cause she was keeping the baby busy. but what really did her in was watching how you handled your son. something about seeing you have him on your hip, cooing at him or laughing with him, or playing with him, or smothering his cheek in big kisses that elicited these big, big giggles from him, drove her.. a very, questionable? kind of crazy? it was pure. it was so sweet, and most of the time, it was just that. but you were so, good with him. after so many months, despite all of the struggle, you really did blossom into a beautiful, capable mother, who still held the glow and all of the weight from the pregnancy and just–

ellie would realize how good it all looked on you. she would feel.. really proud.

and it made her feel like you .. deserved something.

you both remember the first night she’d acted on her desires like it was yesterday. it was on the night that you two had hosted a dinner party for all of your mutual close friends and people who you called family. the dinner was a 3-week-long process of grocery picking, tablecloth finding, invitation designing, and recipe collecting. it honestly stressed you out more than it did ellie because, to be honest, she was kind of just there for moral support. it was your idea, after having had maria over for dinner once. and it was a great idea. but it left you drained – defeated from the final week of preparations, which was especially hectic. when you bathed that night, you bathed alone, a little overstimulated from the day. but you’d let ellie run the bath, though. only because she insisted on doing so.

the soak cured some of the ache that settled deep into your joints, muscles, and bones.. but not all of it. after you'd set the tub to drain, brushed your teeth, and wrapped a towel around your body, you entered the room with an expected level of silence. you slathered moisturizer on your face, over your arms, over your stretch marks. when it came time to take off your jewlery, the rings – except the prized one – came off easily. but when it came to your necklace, your hands were simply too slippery. you sucked your teeth. you always did this.

you eventually sighed, filling your lungs to call:

hey, bug. can you come help me take this necklace off, please?

ellie eventually would appear behind you, probably shuffling off of the bed or rounding some corner after changing and becoming into her own definition of comfortable. if she seriously complained, you didn’t hear it. you only felt her, how her hand placed itself on your shoulder just to let you know that she was behind you.

some things never change, move your hair over.

you do as asked, and hang your head. ellie's fingers brush against your skin with a kind of delicacy that makes shivers run down your spine. you lift your eyes, catching ellie's in the mirror before you. yours, heavier than hers.

you watched as she fought a smile, or a smirk. either was a given with her, honestly — in retrospect, it was most likely the latter. you couldn’t really tell, though. she’d dipped her head, eyes fixated on her fingers that fiddled with your necklace clasp.

you did a really nice job on the dinner, tonight.

suddenly, you were the one fighting the smile. you watched her, still.

yeah?

oh, you like.. completely knocked it out of the park. you did great. it was really, really really nice.

you didnt know if ellie was referring to the food, or the setup, or the wine choices – whichever. but something about the appraisal made your head buzz, like you were coming down off a two glasses of champagne (which.. maybe you were). ellie successfully removed your necklace, and yet didn’t back away. instead, she pressed herself closer to your back, and tilted her head so that she could speak just above the top of your ear,

you looked really nice, too.

been waiting for you to settle down, a bit. so i could tell you.

you probably hummed something in response, something that was probably suggestive but also thankful at the same time. it gets lost, though. because ellie bent down, and placed these slow, unassuming, appreciative kisses down your neck, and against the plateau of your shoulder. between those words and the way her hands lingered over your skin, the way she was breathing you in and drinking up the moment, and your scent, made you melt into her way too easily. like butter in a warm pan.

you exhale, like you've been meaning to for .. you don't even know how long.

el..

mhm?

you realize though, that the house is quiet. too quiet. there is a stillness to it that makes the pit of your stomach twist, and anxiety and guilt bubble in the base of it before you could even stop it.

...where's our baby?

you felt ellie grin against your shoulder. she masked it with a peck,

he’s at joel’s.

and then you felt her tongue drag across your skin. a long, open-mouthed kiss across the midpoint of your neck. she presses the padding of her tongue against tender flesh, sucks hard enough for blood to make the skin bloom, and almost -- against your own will -- makes your eyes roll shut.

the simple act -- acts rather, of ellie coordinating behind your back to have the baby taken off your hands (you knew it for a few days – it's always a few days). she thought she was so slick. it was odd, how much relief those three words gave you,

but at the same time, you kind of wanted to be mad at her.

it was hard to, though. but you couldn't think straight, with how her hands were moving over you, over your towel. with her pelvis pressed against your ass, and her lips on your neck.

you tried,

he was fine here. everything was .. fine, ellie.

but she was so..

i never said everything wasn't fine.

i just think... you've had a really long, stressful week.

you hate how your body reacts to ellie's hands smoothing up your towel. your whole body broke out into goosebumps, seemingly trying to fit into the pores of ellie's palm,

and i think i wanna make it better.

ellie's breath was hot on your ear, and you didn’t realize it, but your head was already tilted. your eyes had begun to flutter closed. you felt yourself, almost swaying against her. your mouth hung as her teeth grazed over sensitive flesh. her tongue pressed against familiar spots that had been untouched -- like the rest of you -- for so, so long. it was too activating.

in your best effort of defense, you spun yourself to turn around to face her. ellie’s head was tilted, her eyes were low. her breath spanned over your mouth while your palm laid flat against her chest. you stalled – shivering, shaking, suddenly caught in a rapture of toiling emotion that you hadn't felt that strongly in .. god knows how long.

her head dipped back into your neck. she pressed her cotton-clad hips against your towel-covered ones, and it just wasn’t enough. it was a lot, and yet, not enough.

your hand snaked over the nape of her neck as you breathed against your cheek, whole body feeling heavy and compliant. your knees were jelly. you could feel your clit. pulsing, and pleading. it ached as you feel ellie's hand slip over the backs of your thighs, inching under the cusps of your ass.

you needed something. you needed anything. you like to think that you had no idea what necessity meant before this moment, because you had never felt it so strongly. it knocked the wind out of you, only leading you to ask – to plead, without pleading,

e... ellie?

and she understood.

ellie’s head lifted from the crook of your neck she crashed her lips upon yours. the kiss was heavy, and deep. your knees buckled, and where you swore you may fall, she made sure you didn’t. you were shuddering, a hand suddenly possessive around the back her neck. her hands suddenly possessive and stabilizing with the grips she held on your ass. months worth of unknown tension relinquished itself in the pushes and pulls you demanded from each other's bodies while teeth clattered and bit into chapped flesh, turned glossy. moans and breaths circumvented between the two of you, and suddenly, the whole room felt like it was on fire.

she delivered a verbal command, teeth tugging at your lower lip as she half-way parted from it,

jump.

you’d used whatever remainder of your energy to follow the simple instruction, your legs wrapping around ellie's waist like she was your lifeline. they remained around her as your back fell against the duvet, and as she kissed you so deep, your head ran dizzy and your body was left no choice but to arch into her.

you remember your hand smoothing over her abdomen, and reaching up to grab her chest. you remember sighing into her mouth over the fact that you could. you relished in the moan she released your mouth, and only returned it halfway.

you remember gripping her and massaging her and bucking your bare hips up against her in hopes of making her make that noise again, louder. you remember how she bucked her hips into you in hopes of the same sentiment, her waistband grazing against your bair clit cauisng her to succeed far quicker than you.

the night was filled with mind-blurring, fuck-until-the-sun-rises kind of sex. sex that you had no idea your body had needed until ellie had given it to you. your body reeled with every kiss that she'd placed over your skin – you’d watched as she peeled back your towel, and replaced bits and segments of the fabric with her lips in soft, attentive kisses. it was hard to believe that they would transpire into messy, sloppy things. wet, tantilizing things that would trek down the axis of your body. that would hold your body hostage as her tongue and her lips worked on your clit to bring you closer and closer to your third orgasm of the hour.

your body wasn’t used to it. any of it. it was, however, too used to and hyperaware of having a tiny human in the house that you simply couldn’t wake at this time of night.

you were shuffling, at one point, scrambling to put a hand on your mouth, or to bite your own knuckle. when that didn’t work, you let your head fall over to a pillow while you fucked up against ellie’s tongue and bit the fabric, trying so hard not to moan. but you felt yourself cracking.

you’ll never forget how ellie looked up at you. eyes a deep, pointed shade of green as she shook her head – mouth still attached to your clit – which in and of itself had almost made you cry. when she pulled away, it was the only time you let yourself make a noise. only because the whine that was ripped out of you was entirely unanticipated, just like her action.

her breath rippled over your the nerves as she ran her fingertip up, and down your hole. you whimpered, hips shifting up relfexivley, cunt tightening just from the invitation. nearly gushing from the feeling of her beginning to small rub circles against it, instead.

i’ve missed you so fucking much.

she dipped a finger inside of you with such ease, and no warning. a long, slender digit bottomed out inside your cunt, before she pushed in another, and made your jaw go slack. her eyes hung on yours – glossed over with lust and a bit narrow as a result of the devious smile that’d begun to overtake her expression.

she’d begun pumping her fingers.

he’s not here, baby.

it’s just us.

her fingers were so fucking long, you swore to god, you would never want a life without them in it. couldn’t bear another 3, 4, 5 months without having them in you. jesus fuck.

wanna hear you.

wanna hear you be as loud as you fuckin’ want.

ellie emphasized her words by proceeding to fuck you faster. her tongue latched back onto your clit, rolling over and slurping at the nerves, rolling beads of saliva and your juices into and against the bundle. the sound of your cunt was so encompassing, it was hard to believe that it became the backdrop for the moans that ellie had ripped out of you. that made it into, and mostly out of, the pillow, amidst a sea of praise and bucking hips.

the next morning was luxuriuosly unproductive. ellie had only woke to feed the animals and returned to bed and slept with you until noon. she was always affectionate, come mornings. but especially riding off of the honeymoon buzz of the night prior, she made the morning after memorably tender, often pressing kisses to your forehead, and your shoulder, regardless of how awake both you or she was. she’d whisper sweet nothings into your ear, promises of how much she loved you. how she’s really glad this is how she gets to spend her life, as long as it’s with you. all of the sugary things that eventually caramelize into jokes and giggles and laughter, and that how you’d know it was time to get up.

it’s safe to say that parenthood brought you and ellie both very interesting things. it brought you challenges, and it brought you lows. it brought you highs, and photographs, and moments where you did feel like all of your hard-work was paying off, even when it didn’t seem that way. having a family meant having the opportunity to open your house up to people you who you loved. having a family meant having traditions, and things to fall back on – things that you would develop over time, as you learned more and discovered more of what you wanted. and having a family with ellie meant that you could fall back on each other, no matter how tough things got.

.. it also just meant sometimes having really.. really good sex.

(whenever you remembered that that was something that the two of you could actually do, that is.)

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #the last of us #ellie williams smut #joel miller #the last of us smut #literally no one asked for this i just needed this #it's pretty valid i guess #i always notice its so easy to just write thoughts that come to my mind as opposed to like Hovering over one idea for like 2 months #idk that's wild #i feel like i have texts that are literally just written a lot prettier but like #i like the vibe setup #i just can’t reread it anymore or else i get really like critical and for good reason but bleh #actually no (10am mia speaking)#this is probably like fine im gonna give myself the benefit of the doubt #i Finished it which was Good i'm gonna pat myself on the back #good job mia!!!!!

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transmascutena · 4 months

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these lines hit different when you read utena as transmasc

#i mean the first one is really awful regardless.#pretty sure i read somewhere that the words akio uses means something along the lines of 'you really should remain a child'#as opposed to 'you really should remain the gender that you are.' which speaks to his whole thing about keeping these kids from growing up #and there's So Much in anthy's line even without hypothetical misgendering #anyway the au where utena has already transitioned by the time he gets to ohtori is really good #and i of course have lots of headcanons about post-ohtori utena and gender #but i've been thinking about one where he's actively questioning while he's there and is not out to anyone.#and i guess not a lot would really change but akio's attempt at making utena more feminine would have a whole other layer of awful to it #and unfortunately i think in this scenario the first person he would come out to would be akio. which is so sad #like maybe it could be anthy but idk. i think it would be something he'd be apprehensive to be open about with her #(in the show utena does tend to be more vulnerable with akio than with anthy. at least the vulnerability with him comes first.#he's her go-to person for advice in the black rose arc and utena doesn't really begin opening up to anthy like that until the third arc)#maybe i should write something for this au. i can see it so clearly.#utena talking about his confusing gender feelings in one of those black rose scenes in the planetarium #and akio doing that thing where he sounds supportive and helpful but absolutely isn't.#that fake sympathy that's actually really patronizing and condescending and dismissive but subtly enough that utena doesn't realize it #and THEN the contrast when utena finally talks to anthy about it and she empathises by talking about her own confusing gender feelings #(transfem anthy realness !!!!!)#oh wow i did not mean to write so much in the tags #revolutionary girl utena #utena tenjou #my posts

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blueskittlesart · 1 year

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POST MORE SWORD OF FATE PLS IM BEGGING

i have very little in terms of actual art LMAO but i CAN explain the sword thing because i checked and i did in fact never make this plot point public. i struggled for a while with creating a villain for this story until i realized that. i put "sword" in the title of the game. of course it has to be about the fucking sword. DUH.

so i want SOF to deal very heavily with religion, specifically the way in which hyrule's religion forms post-sksw but pre-reincarnation. i've placed it on the timeline directly after sksw, making it the first actual reincarnation in hyrule. what this means is that there's no actual proof yet that the reincarnation thing is real and not just an insane bluff on demise's part, and so several key characters including link and zelda barely believe in hylia or demise at all when the story starts. my thought with this setting's version of ganon is that he's the polar opposite of the nonbelievers. The gerudo don't really exist as of now, but he DOES come from the desert region of hyrule--specifically, he was raised in a cultlike offshoot of the sheikah religion which interpreted the hylia/demise myth completely literally and believes that a doomsday is coming, heralded by the foretold return of demise. Because of this, he knows more about the cycle and how to set it in motion than basically any other character. Crucially, he and his people are some of the only ones at this point aware of the existence of the master sword.

ganon finds. a sword. a sword which he THINKS is the master sword. and this theory is only reinforced when the sword begins to speak to him about his destiny and the salvation of hyrule. unfortunately it is not the master sword and he ends up basically a pawn in the greater plans of what's left of demise & ghirahim within that sword, manipulated into attempting to revive demise and destroy the reincarnated hero and princess. he remains in denial until basically the very end of the final battle, completely convinced that he is the true savior of hyrule and LINK is the one being misled. ghirahim is a very good manipulator lol

#i know that the sword like dies with demise in sksw or whatever but this is my game and i can do whatever i want so ive decided it survives #because i need a plot device. ok. work with me here #asks #loz: sword of fate #anyway the religion thing is something that i really wanted to explore bc it fascinates me. bc obv in later cycles everyone believes #because they KNOW its true and have like. historical evidence of it. but what about the first few times it happened? post-sksw they had no #way of knowing if demise would make good on his promise or not. i can see belief vs nonbelief being a very strong dividing factor among #early hylians. its fascinating to me. lol #anyways zelda specifically fully believes that the hylia shit was made up by her great great grandparents or whatever as a power grab lmao #link is kinda like whatever. sure the goddess exists i guess ill pray to her sometimes but like did she actually found hyrule? probably not #and ganon and his people are HARDCORE believers. like to-the-letter. because of this they have one of the most historically accurate #accounts of hyrule's founding (which no one BELIEVES is accurate at this point. but it is) and have managed to hold onto records of both #the master sword and demise when society at large has basically either forgotten or decided to ignore them #wow. i forgot how fun sof is to write about. holy shit

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hephaestuscrew · 29 days

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Favourite Fleet & Clara quotes from High Vaultage

(Page numbers from my Goldsboro special edition, I'm not sure how they line up with page numbers in other versions. Spoilers for all of High Vaultage.)

p27: Clara had met Fleet only weeks before. She had just arrived in London and started work as a crime reporter, and pursued a murder case alongside Fleet despite his repeated objections, until he eventually conceded - as Clara had known he would - that they were making a good team, and furthermore proposed - as she hadn't a clue he would - that they go into business together.

p51: "There you are, Fleet. Where have you been?" / Fleet paused, made some confused looks between Clara and the room he had just left, and finally pointed at the door. "Isn't this the waiting room for detectives whose partners have run off? They were quite a few of us in there. Quite a lot in common." / Clara suppressed a grin into something more disapproving. "You're not as funny as you think you are, Inspector." (More below the cut.)

p70: [After Clara successfully sneaks into the Iron Bridge Club] [Fleet] should have known Clara would make it in. Her tenacity had been clear to him since she had first left the police roping at a crime scene of his. It was one of the things he admired about her, even if she didn't always check whether there was somewhere to land.

p76: [After Clara's business card strategies work on Cosgrove] Fleet glanced at Clara. She grinned back, eyes wild with pride, before tapping her bag and mouthing the word 'Posner'.

p116: [After Professor McCabe says “Top marks, Miss Entwhistle”] Clara beamed, and flashed her eyebrows at Fleet while elbowing him in the ribs.

p132: "Don't think you can shake me off, Inspector. I'll come with you." / " I'm not trying to shake you off. It's just late, Clara.” / "You're always trying to shake me off. Ever since we met. Despite my constant usefulness." / "I'd say occasional usefulness," replied Fleet, maintaining a straight face. / Clara, with some effort, twisted her grin into something approximating outrage. "Frequent usefulness, surely!" / "No, but I'll agree to "regular usefulness"." / "Deal.” / “And I asked you to join me in business, Clara. If I'd wanted to shake you off, that's a poor way to go about it."

p154: [From Fleet's POV] Clara really was the sort of person - indeed the only person he knew - who could find genuine joy and wonder in a building site.

p172: [When Clara fears for her life at the display of the Lanterns] She thought of her brother, her sister, her parents... Her ridiculous detective.

p176-178: Clara without her usual pep was almost unrecognisable. [...] Normally that sort of reply would at least elicit some playful scolding. Fleet grew concerned. [...] "Do you want to talk about it?" [...] " What do you want to talk about?" [...] He tried to think of more options. Not talking about things was Fleet's speciality, but for Clara this signalled a worrying malaise. Things were dire. He was going to have to resort to small talk. "Would you like to hear about my day?" A brief pause. "Yes," she replied, with a note of hope [...] Fleet remembered the mess he was in before he switched to the task of cheering up Clara.

p184: When he saw her, she noticed his eyes were shining with a rare zeal, and he appeared bursting to explain whatever he was thinking.

p187: Fleet had, after all, taken her under his wing, even if she did have to thrust herself there initially. She thought about the door plaque he’d had engraved with both their names on it as his way of inviting her to be his business partner – typical Fleet, refusing to tell her so much as his favourite breakfast food and then to go and do something like that. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her.

p201: [After Fleet sees a magpie get electrocuted] Fleet looked at Clara, who thankfully had been facing the other way.

p214: [After Fleet falls into the frozen river] Clara, removing her cape and placing it over Fleet's shoulders

p225: [Clara] had read several books on the subject - Surreptitious Sleuthing, Introduction to Ingression, Undetectable Detection, to name a few - but she always seemed to pick up more from her partner, whose years in the police had left him full of [useful tricks].

p235: [While navigating the Brunellian tunnels for the first time] "I still think my way is more fun." / "Escape, Clara. Escape and then fun." / "That's a promise, Fleet. You've promised it now.”

p259: “That's too much topiary,” said Fleet [...] Clara's eyes lit up at this rare revelation of a personal opinion from her colleague. “I didn't know you had such strong views on topiary, Fleet.”

p293: [When Crowe increases how much he'd be willing to pay them to investigate on his behalf] Fleet knew his answer, but felt he had to see whether Clara was still in agreement. He looked to her, only to be met with an expression of astonishment that he had taken even this long to respond.

p337: [After their falling out] Where do you even begin, she thought, let alone end, with someone you've worked with so closely?

p338: [After they squash the scone Fleet brought Clara as part of his apology] "You want me to eat an exploded scone!" cried Clara, stifling laughter.”/ “I think it says a lot if you refuse.” / “Fine,” she said, grabbing the bag, pulling out the crushed scone and taking an enormous bite. / The corners of Fleet's mouth twitched. Clara was sure he almost laughed.

p341: [Before they go into the Church of the Mechanical Man to look for Helena Evans] Clara smiled, and punched him in the shoulder. / "Ow! What was that for?" / Clara realised that in her excitement at Fleet's plan she had landed her friendly thump with rather more power than intended, so she clarified: "You're a good one, Fleet.”

p371: [After Fleet gets shot in the shoulder] Fleet thought he heard Clara scream his name, but he couldn't be sure. Suddenly she was next to him, checking his shoulder.

p371-372: Clara turned to Fleet. “Now I have an idea.” / “What kind of idea?” / “A terrible idea. Just the worst idea I've ever had.” / Fleet looked towards the distant exit, which could barely be seen beyond the fire, and then back to Clara. “I like it.”

p373: [As they anticipate an oncoming wave of molten metal] Fleet felt a sensation he did not recognise. Something like calm. Then Clara took his hand and turned him towards her. For some insufferable reason she was smiling again. He couldn't help but return it. [...] Fleet realised Clara still had his hand firmly in hers, and she seemed to be saying something at him that he couldn't hear. He tried to listen, but she stopped speaking, shook her head, threw her arms around him and hauled him down onto the ground.

p375: [When Clara won't tell Fleet whether she knew they were going to be saved by Helena Evans] “And you don't think this might affect how likely I am to trust your plans in the future?” / “Does it?” asked Clara. [...] “No,” said Fleet. “It doesn't.”

p381: Clara stiffened her posture, as though she might salute. "Archibald Fleet, I challenge you to a battle of business." / "We're partners, Clara. We're on the same side." / "A point for whoever solves a case first! More for trickier ones!" / "But we work together..." / "Let battle commence!" she cried.

#High Vaultage #Victoriocity #Clara Entwhistle #Archibald Fleet #There's just so much care and affection and trust and respect and understanding and humour between them #in the midst of all their differences #One of the nice things about the move to book format #is the chance to see more inside the characters' heads and to know more about their body language #And you can really tell the attention they pay to each other #like all of the times one of them looks over to the other to check in or to express a feeling #Almost all of the times Fleet smiles or almost-smiles in the book are at something Clara says or does #I had a system of pencil symbols for annotating as I was reading #e.g. an asterisk for every bit that made me laugh #a little heart for the sweet moments for character dynamics #so this is a good chunk but not even all of the lines with hearts next to them #Btw I'm in the process of writing a long ass post about the potential to read Fleet and Clara's dynamic through a QPR lens #which I'll post after all the S3 episodes are officially out #I guess lmk if you would like to be tagged in that #Inspector Fleet #Clara & Fleet

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skyloftian-nutcase · 3 months

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Febuwhump Day 10 - Killing in Self Defense

Well... I did warn y'all that I wouldn't be able to shut up about the Hyrule Warriors Imprisoning War blorbos... and uh, I liked this prompt so much that I wrote it four times >.<

(Head's up, this one gets dark. Lots of blood and some body horror kind of dark. Surprise, surprise given the prompt lol)

There was a difference between sparring and true war. There was a difference between the honor of defending one's own and the horror of meeting someone equally determined.

Hemisi... didn't like war.

She supposed it was a stupid sentiment to have. Given all the bloodshed she'd seen so far, it seemed reasonable to assume no one would like war.

But she couldn't tell if her father held the same idea.

She didn't know how he did it, how either of her parents did it. The original plan had been a quick snatch and run, to steal the Trio Force or whatever it was called and run back to the desert. She figured it was naïve to assume Hyrule wouldn't go after them, but if it had gone correctly no one would've been the wiser, right? Once the dust had settled, she might have even been able to reach out to Link again.

Instead, the Sheikah warriors had noticed the bodies. Instead, the sacred relic had shattered as soon as her father had touched it. Instead, their mother had screamed that they should retreat when things fell apart. Instead, she'd had to run around her boyfriend's unconscious body and was unable to help him. Instead, Hyrule had a face and a name to call culpable and brought its full wrath down on the Gerudo.

Instead, they were fighting a war.

Hemisi had fought before, but never to such an extreme, and never to the death. Yet here she was, covered in the blood of her enemies, staring at the bodies she'd just cut down.

She felt sick. She was sick. This was sick.

Is it really worth all this?

Did it even matter anymore? What was done was done. If she didn't fight, her people would suffer the consequences.

The scimitars fell out of her trembling hands as she stared at blood dripping off her fingers, down her torso, as she felt it on her face.

Hemisi started to hyperventilate, backing away from the carnage, her world spinning.

She wanted nothing more than to turn back time, to go to the days where she and Link were stargazing on the castle walls, where she was training with her father, laughing with her mother, annoying her brother.

But there was no going back. The empty, accusing Hylian eyes that watched her screamed it, cemented in her mind by the life-giving fluid that slid off her skin.

XXX

There was a difference between monsters and people. There was a difference between fighting mindless creatures of darkness and living, breathing women with loved ones and histories and feelings.

Link hated the difference, hated that he wasn't just dealing with Ganondorf's hordes of bokoblins and moblins anymore, hated that the Gerudo stood before him ready to die for a monster.

He parried another blow with his shield just at the right moment, leaving the Gerudo warrior open to a counterattack, but he couldn't bear to take it. So far in the war all he'd ever fought were beasts - there was no way he was going to take away a life like this. He couldn't.

The Gerudo roared, pushing forward with more intensity. Although Link was trying to just disarm her, it was very clear she was going for the kill. He knew he should be too.

But all he could see was the Gerudo settlement. All he could hear was the laughter, the music. All he could smell was the food and incense.

All he could see was her.

He knew. He knew as soon as this happened, he'd be forever changed. He'd been dreading it, selfishly enjoying the time the king had spent--wasted--leaving him in the castle to defend the princess. Because he knew that he could fight monsters a hundred times over, but the instant he had to face a Gerudo herself...

The warrior's blade slid just by his abdomen, cutting at his side, and he hissed.

You're going to die if you don't end this.

Link froze. I can't!

He shouldn't have frozen like that. He shouldn't have.

The Gerudo's sword swiped through the air at the level of his neck. His world slowed. She was wide open, the move a sweeping, large, long, slow one, and she was wide open.

Link dropped to his knees, his blade rushing forward. It hit true, requiring more force than before to cut through what was no longer air, to sink into what wasn't just monster flesh. He pushed harder, the blade jaggedly making its way through as he heard the sickening sound fill his ears.

The scimitar clattered to the ground. The weight on his sword grew heavier as the body sagged, lifeless.

Link twisted so the Gerudo fell to the side, his blade coming out of her quickly.

All around him, chaos erupted. The monsters no longer had a commander to guide them, and the remaining Hyrulian forces cut through their numbers quickly.

Link hardly noticed.

The Gerudo stayed motionless on the earth. He watched blood leak out of her abdomen where he'd stabbed her.

He'd killed her. He'd killed her.

And he... felt... nothing.

XXX

There was a difference between enemies and loved ones. It was strange to note it as, well, he'd never really had loved ones he cared about before.

"This war is getting out of control. There has to be some kind of terms we can come to."

Ganondorf turned sharply to look at his wife. "Surrender? You're suggesting we surrender?!"

"We've lost nearly half our warriors!" Nabooru argued. "If we continue this, there won't be Gerudo left to prosper from the Triforce. Not to mention we don't even have the entire relic, and our spies have discovered nothing about the whereabouts of the other two pieces!"

"The Triforce of Power is more than enough to win this war," Ganondorf snapped. "My power is unmatched. And then we will get the Triforce, and--"

"And what?" Nabooru interrupted sharply. "What will we do when we win, Gan? A war was never the plan, your obsession over that relic has nearly destroyed our people!"

"Our people?!" Ganondorf repeated, glaring at her. "Our people, who live out in the desert like rats? Our people, who suffer in the elements while Hyrule prospers?"

"Our people, who have adapted and survived, who persevere despite the odds, who value life and love and integrity and honor!" Nabooru fired back. "Our people, who are losing their way to this bloodshed! You said the Triforce would help us grow, but all I've seen is our people fall one by one!"

"You want the Gerudo to stay as they were." Ganondorf accused. "To forever nip at the heels of greatness--"

"Greatness," Nabooru scoffed. "As if you even know that word. You don't aspire for greatness, you aspire for control. This has never been about the Gerudo, has it? This has always been about you!"

Though he could feel rage steadily boiling his blood, Ganondorf remained silent for a moment. Of course this was about him - he coveted the prosperity of Hyrule, but that didn't mean that--he could share it with his family! What sort of accusations was Nabooru levying against him?

"When I first met you, you tried to steal my birthright, my leadership of my people," Nabooru continued, slowly walking towards him. "I showed you why I had earned that seat as chief. And as time passed, I thought you had learned, that you had realized that your selfishness and lust for power were not strengths but weaknesses."

"Watch your words, Nabooru," Ganondorf growled dangerously.

"Do not speak to me as if I am child!" Nabooru balked, rage pulling at her face. "You are the one being childish, the one who will never learn, who thinks the world should revolve around you and you alone. Don't you understand what you're doing?!"

"I am doing what I was born to do!" Ganondorf roared. "I was born to lead the Gerudo, born to rule the desert, and born for greatness! Hyrule's power will be mine! Have you not looked upon their land and seen more than the harshness of the desert? Have you never once coveted the winds that bless their lands?"

"Not at the price you're willing to pay," Nabooru answered, her voice suddenly growing quiet. "Never at the price you're willing to pay."

"I will sacrifice everything to achieve that goal," Ganondorf hissed. "Your weakness is your unwillingness to do the same."

"You're wrong," Nabooru said even more quietly, though there was no tremble to her tone. It was stone cold, and had more strength to it than Ganondorf had ever heard, like the low rumble of a dragon just before it attacked. "I am willing to sacrifice everything to do what is right."

Electricity shot through Ganondorf's veins as his wife drew her sword on him. The shock that cascaded through him quickly broiled into rage and overwhelming hatred, and he let it consume him. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm ending your war," Nabooru snarled, immediately striking.

Ganondorf drew his claymore and swatted her sword easily, his strength surpassing her own. However, Nabooru was nimble, and though her strikes couldn't hold the same force as his own, she was still more than capable of cutting him to pieces. Ganondorf took several steps back as he was hit with her fast assault, multiple blows in succession, some landing a hit on his legs, one on his side. Roaring, he swung harder, watching her duck under his blade and angle her sword upward to carve into his stomach. He kicked her directly in the face, and she went flying into a nearby table, dazed momentarily.

"You think you can defeat me?" he hissed. "You think you even stand a chance?"

Nabooru groaned, slowly trying to sit up.

"You dare defy me?!" he continued, his hatred ever growing. "Me, the rightful ruler of all things!"

His wife let out a mirthless laugh. "You are a ruler of nothing Ganondorf. You're letting that demon control you. I didn't marry a demon king, I married a man who sought to better himself, who wished to see prosperity spread across the land! You, demon, will die!"

With that his wife rose against him once more, attacking even faster despite how she shook her head and blinked blood out of her eyes, despite how her nose was misshapen and blood was pouring freely out of it. Ganondorf deflected, parried, counterattacked at every measure, but the Gerudo chief was too fast. He grew angrier by the second, outraged that she would actually attempt this, after everything--had their love meant nothing?! How could she betray him like this?!

Nabooru leapt off a table to come down on him overhead, blade ahead of her, aimed at his head. Ganondorf fel this heart stop a moment, fear gripping him, and he dodged just in time, bringing his blade up to carve through her back from her hips to her skull.

Nabooru fell to the ground, and the room grew still.

Ganondorf stood there, motionless, until he became dizzy because he'd forgotten to breathe.

I... I just... what did I just...

Nabooru was dead. Nabooru was dead.

My wife... my wife...

She betrayed you, the voice in his head purred, and Din's fire if he couldn't find an argument against it. She'd been trying to kill him!

This was her fault! He should've known she wouldn't listen! A fool would get a fool's reward!

My children will listen to me. They will undertand. They will obey me.

Ganondorf wiped the blood from his blade, ignoring how his hands shook, and stormed out of the tent.

XXX

There was a difference between fairytales and the terrifying reality of facing evil.

Zelda took a trembling breath as she watched what was once a man morph into a horrific monster. Darkness choked the air, swirling around like the winds of a hurricane. Link's blade glowed blue against it as he stood guard over the fallen Gerudo warrior, Hemisi. The air was sucked out of her lungs, and Zelda trembled at the overwhelming malice that dripped off the beast's tusks, at the heart stopping terror such evil magic brought, at how her entire body was paralyzed in the moment.

The stories told of a demon king who sought to destroy Hyrule again and again. Her father had never believed such stories, had grossly underestimated the man who brought such destruction back to their land. Zelda had known Ganondorf housed this evil, and yet...

Witnessing it was more overwhelming than she could have ever imagined.

The dark beast roared, stomping its feet, ready to devour its prey.

"Link!" Zelda called, feeling utterly helpless.

But she couldn't be helpless! She refused to be! She'd been helpless her entire life, and only recently had she started taking charge of her own destiny. But she knew this destiny was written in the stars, woven with a golden thread of the goddesses themselves. They wouldn't fail - they couldn't. And she had a part to play in it.

Inexperienced of the world as she was, Zelda was not a fool. And she refused to be a coward.

Hemisi slowly rose to her feet behind Link, looking at what her father had turned into, face pale with horror.

Link roared back at the beast, ready to fight.

Zelda channeled her Light within her, pushing the darkness at bay, sending diamond-like shards of magic towards her Hero. "Link, use these!"

Link leapt into the air to catch the shards, which turned into Light-infused kunai. After a moment to register what had just happened, a feral grin pulled at his face, and he bared his teeth against the enemy.

As Link charged ahead to face down the enormous beast, Hemisi looked back at the princess. "Hey! Lend me some of that magic, will you?"

Zelda watched her hesitantly, but she grimaced when Link narrows missed getting impaled by the dark beast's enormous tusks. Swallowing, she nodded, channeling her power and sending Light to the Gerudo, who caught it and watched it materialize into a glowing bow and arrows.

Nodding in thanks, Hemisi turned and stared down the beast, slowly taking aim.

Zelda brought her hands to her chest in prayer, begging the goddeses to aid them, allowing her power to create a barrier between them and the rest of the world, and the true battle for Hyrule began.

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anaalnathrakhs · 2 months

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i feel it's so fucking stupid and ungrateful but it still hurts a little when someone gifts me something i just don't like. i don't know. i know it's dumb and inaccurate to astrain that much meaning to a simple gift, but it feels kinda like they don't know me. i guess it feels like people don't see me, like a reminder that the person i reflect and the person i feel like are incredibly different.

#two fairly recent examples jump to mind #last year my class did a secret santa #the guy who got my name barely knew me so instead he asked our litterature teacher for tips #i was doing an effort to participate a lot in her classes and discuss stuff and i felt like she was an adult i could really trust #and adult who Gets It #and she picked just. the wrong gift. a classical philosophy essay.#stuff i hate reading. stuff i hate thinking about.#i said thank you to both of them and tried to read it during christmas break still. but i was right. i hated it.#and this year's christmas #recently i tried patching things up with my parents and we are a lot more communicative now #so they've opened up that my demand not to receive any gifts was painful to them #so we had an agreement: we write open-hearted letters to each other on christmas.#and they can gift me something if they'd like but no pressure if they don't find anything they feel would be a good gift #bc i myself opened up about the whole ''inaccurate gift'' thing being one of the reasons i dislike receiving stuff #and guess what. christmas comes. they got me a printed card from an artist whose work we saw at a local art thing earlier that year.#that artist does mainly either plants or nice architecture. stuff i love.#they picked the ONE work of hers that doesn't look like that. some reinterpretation of the great wave of kanagawa #a piece which i dislike with a passion for aesthetic reasons #i had promised i'd be honest if their gift missed the mark but tbh i couldn't. it's just an aesthetic thing it's completely begnin.#it's not like they spent lots or tried to pick something that was USEFUL #so i smiled and the picture is hanging with other stuff in my room #and i thanked them and i can't express how genuinely glad i am we have a better relationship #but man i felt my heart break a little under the tree in that moment #idk #i know it's silly but it makes me feel weird. and cold.#broadcasting my misery #vent

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duckiemimi · 2 months

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it’s bpd

#puts a lot into perspective i think #cost me a lot too especially my last major split #i’m doing cbt but my parents really want to try hypnotherapy so we’ll see (my poor bank acc…)#lots of things i wish didnt happen but for some reason i’m mostly bummed bc all my writing is just depressing #which is fine! but (and maybe this is my tendency to be harsh on myself) a bit corny even by my standards #i’m glad we had the bipolar misdiagnosis straightened out bc i dread going back on lithium (though at one point i thought it helped)#(i mean despite the way bpd is treated online i guess)#thank u all so much for ur kind messages and comments!!! i’ll never run out of gratitude #but i’m sorry if i don’t respond to everyone!#i’ll pop up once in a while (?) and i’ll make sure it’s good i hope that’s okay!

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pureleafpeachtea · 5 months

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Im gonna say something about sanders sides.

Because here's the thing. I love sanders sides. I grew up alongside it, i introduced friends to it. But im so, so tired.

Its been what, 3 years since we got an episode? And im not counting the ads, or the most recent aside. 3 years since we got actual content continuing the main storyline.

Its so frustrating. Thomas tells us nothing. No idea what hes working on, no timelines to expect, nothing. We're working with crumbs here.

He keeps putting out ads and i used to be excited about them, because who doesnt love merch for your favourite show? Especially a niche one. Official merch, supporting the creator you love, etc. All great things. But when hes posting ads but no actual content, it becomes less exciting and more... sketchy. Like. I dont like the idea of continuing to sell merch for a show that you havent made in years. It feels cheap.

I have a lot of more articulate thoughts that i will eventually articulate but at this point its just frustration. The show was good, it was really good! It had its flaws but overall its a good show. Loveable characters. Compelling plotlines. At this point i dont think we'll ever see the resolution of romans plot.

I thought they were finally gonna address it, it felt like they were building to it, but then they switched to pattons control issues, logans anger issues, virgils (for lack of a better word) anxiety. And while i like those plotlines, it feels like he got swept to the side, a bit. And Roman was never my favourite character but seeing the way hes treated in the show makes me kinda sad. Like theres so much potential. And if the season finale resolves the orange side and logans anger issues and virgils stuff and then after that we can focus on roman a bit? Then great. But when will that be? 2030?

I loved sanders sides. I still do. But the humour is getting dated, and my goodwill is running out. I dont watch any other thomas sanders content. I dont really care about it, tbh. And im getting tired of waiting for another episode of the sides.

I just wish he would say something. Give us some sort of information about whats going on and what to expect instead of serving us ads and filler and in-character livestreams

Idk. Im just so tired. This story and the fandom deserves better

#not trying to start an argument or anything #i understand that some people still have faith in thomas #and while i dont get how #im happy for you #i would love to just be able to enjoy the show #but everything around it is too frustrating #and also the new asides wasnt very good #which worries me about the quality of the finale #thomas is an incredible actor. i used to listen to the episodes on my old mp3 and i could pick out each character by voice #but i dont know how much of the writing has been him and how much has been joan #and i worry that now that joans gone the quality will take a dip #i guess we'll see #but i just worry. i really didnt like the new asides #ts criticism

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june-again · 19 days

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something something i'm not as interested in reading/writing x reader/r anymore something something

#june shines #bc. my boyfriend #periodt #but the dilemma remains because i still enjoy writing and want to scream about the characters #i guess it's the x reader part #which kinda alienates me from most writers on here!!!! which sucks a lot!!!!!#but idk there was also a point in like 2022 as well where i was experiencing this #and it never really stopped it only solidified #god but i still want to write here and for my favs and ahghhh #i just have to figure out a type of content i enjoy #i would be more suited for fanart at this point just because i can spend the whole time appreciating the character without coming up with a #-story i'm disinterested in #does that make sense #but i'm not very good at art! which is ok!!! i still enjoy it which is all that matters #but as far as fanart content creation goes i'm not really suited for it #anyways #certified yapper #i'm going to try to come back with some type of content after finals but we'll see what that looks like

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fuckmeyer · 9 months

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Wiggins!) the bizarre thing about the vampire men in the cullen family all seem to be at least subconsciously what Smeyer wants Bella to have but can’t seem to get over her initial vision of what she saw in her drafts or whatever. It’s odd that every single one of the Cullen men are like strongly devoted (but mostly devoid of personality because it’s so Bella centric) but when you compare them to Edward they seem interesting in some ways. Like Narratively we’re supposed to have this threat that Edward is constantly holding back from killer her but I don’t feel like we see that. Conversely, Jasper is constantly the one who is suffering about human smells and is the more vampire-like. But he’s also a glorified lap dog. So it’s like ‘oh he’s a monster but he’ll never hurt me” (things Alice has said out loud. Man even psychics slip up. I swear her powers weren’t so accurate until Smeyer needed an excuse for plot reasons)

Emmett feels like when some women say they like waifish guys because they don’t want to seem like they’re vapid for liking “big dudes with muscles” so of course you pair Emmett with the “shallow blonde”

Carlisle, I swear only exists so Edward has someone to model but I would also argue that he’s proto-Edward before whatever reworking she had to do when writing Twilight for a YA audience and brought him back as a different character.

Yeah a rant

hello again bestie Wiglet! (note to self: learn Photoshop so i can shop Jacob's bad wig onto a pic of Piglet)

this is such an interesting take! thanks for sharing. i totally see what you're saying. in all the Cullen men we see both a blend of softness & devotion *and*, interestingly enough, a patchwork of patriarchal ideas of what a man "should" be. & this idea comes to the forefront with the depiction of the love interests

smeyer wants us to see Edward as the chivalric gentlemen from the Days of Yore. we see this in the opening doors, the cutsey little romance taglines ("you are my life now," "look after my heart; i've left it with you," "so the lion fell in love" etc), the knight saving the damsel in distress, the expensive tokens of his affection, etc.

at the same time, in both Edward & Jacob we see the crude traits of the Patriarchy Dreamboat kinda guy. if i had to sum it up, it's like the guy you see in 80s movies. "bad boy." "opposites attract." he's a jerk. he's a hunk. he's domineering. he's allowed to show emotion only & especially if that emotion is anger. he's persistent in his efforts to get the girl, going so far as to kiss her without her consent if it's For a Good Cause (Edward in New Moon post-Volterra, Jacob in Eclipse). he's a cool guy who's In Control 👉😎👉

perhaps that's why the Twilight saga appealed so such a large swath of women & girls. the women, who grew up with the notion that they could have the true love of their dreams so long as they submitted to the patriarchal social contract, saw the contract being fulfilled in Edward. (i.e., "you can be the king if you treat me like a princess.")

on the other hand, the 90s/00s girlies who grew up in the midst of a feminist revolution & who could see the glimmer of a dismantled patriarchy on the horizon were attracted to Edward for the flashes of radical feminist love they saw: the unapologetic expressions of emotion, the honesty of him sharing his vulnerabilities & weaknesses, Bella's ability to override Edward's will when necessary, etc.

sorry, i know this isn't really the crux of the rant you submitted, but it is extremely interesting to see these contradictions playing out in all the male characters of the saga. it's almost like smeyer is having this internal debate with herself without even realizing it...

#twilight meta #twilight renaissance #the twilight saga #i have been reading too much bells hooks (jk that's impossible) and have been thinking about radical feminist theory &#how it actually both applies and does not apply to twilight #i've been wanting to write a meta about it but fuck it #fuckmeyer 2.0 only takes meta requests i guess #anyway you brought up a really good point about how the cullen men are all a mix of what smeyer wanted Edward to be #and yet she was too afraid to realize the vision to its fullest extent #like yes she wants the muscles but she wants Edward to be soft and loving and delicate #and she wants Edward to have an Unforgivable Past but not SO unforgivable that he's completely damaged goods #and she wants him to be Devoted but not SO devoted that he's 'pussywhipped'#and she wants the devout religiosity and Goodness of Carlisle but she recognizes at the same time that women & readers want conflict #my response was getting long and frankly i didn't want to derail or dtract any further from the facts you were spitting but #i see what you're saying and i think you touch on something very incisive about the vision versus the execution of twilight #if we imagine a saga in which Edward WAS balls-to-the-wall Edward...what kind of character would we see?#that is another meta for another time but WOW am i thinking about this Intently and how different the saga would be if smeyer were to Commi #thanks for sending this my way!!!#cheers <3

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cynosra · 5 days

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Some thoughts regarding chapter 419

I needed some time to stomach the revelations of chapter 419, but now that that’s done I think the story’s been building up to that moment for a very long time. It’s an extremely painful chapter to read, but, in my opinion, it had to happen. I’ll try to explain why I think so.

Tomura’s lack of/struggle with agency had always been a core theme of his character, perhaps even the central theme. However, I feel like this aspect of his character often got overlooked in favor of other aspects like his bond with the other members of the League of Villains, his development into a more competent and threatening villain, his issues with the shortcomings of BNHA’s society in general and heroes in particular, etc. Well and then, chapter 419 happened and brought this core theme to the forefront with a vengeance, pretty much overshadowing everything else. (It was really kind of a… challenging read.)

Personally, I think this chapter’s purpose is neither to make Tomura more redeemable nor to let Nana and Kotarou off the hook for the decisions they made. I doubt that people who were against Tomura’s redemption before chapter 419 dropped, are on board with it now. And I can’t really imagine Horikoshi expecting them to change their minds with this reveal. (He would have to be beyond naive to believe that.)

The decisions, Nana made, were entirely her own – chapter 419 changed nothing about that. And regarding Kotarou: Just because a cherished friend gives you parenting advice, you’re not obliged to follow it. Especially, since All For One didn’t even tell Kotarou to be strict with Tenko, he merely encouraged his strict ways. He encouraged what was already there. He used what was already there to his advantage. This chapter may bring Tomura’s agency into question, but it certainly doesn’t do so with Kotarou’s.

(Furthermore, I don’t see anything in the story that indicates All For One as the cause of all of society’s flaws. He merely knows how to use these flaws to his advantage. He threw quite some bombshells at Tomura and us in this chapter, but he never mentioned having anything to do with all those civilians ignoring little Tenko in his hour of need. If he were also behind that, why wasn’t he bragging about that as well? Now would be the perfect time.)

So, what is the purpose of this chapter, of All For One’s revelations? I think it’s to finally shatter Tomura’s illusion of agency. It’s to pull the rug out from under his feet and push him into the deepest depths of despair. At its core, Tomura’s story is a tragedy in its purest form (or at least it has been up to now) and chapter 419 marks the lowest point.

In chapter 379, Tomura is able to one-up All For One and regain control over his body for a while. He manages to do so by clinging to his origin as Tenko Shimura. At this point, he is already aware (at least to some degree) that All For One has groomed him since picking him up after the Shimura tragedy. He knew that “Tomura Shigaraki” was All For One’s creation. But at least he still has “Tenko Shimura”. “Tomura Shigaraki’s” decisions may belong to All For One, but “Tenko Shimura’s” decisions are his own. Or so he thought.

“Tenko Shimura” was his final weapon against All For One, the shield protecting him from getting completely overtaken by his abuser. And also the life ring he was clinging to to keep himself from sinking into despair. But now, All For One has destroyed that, too, and Tomura has nothing left to hold onto.

“Tenko Shimura” is All For One’s creation as well. “Tenko Shimura’s” decisions belong to All For One as well. All that is “Tenko Shimura/Tomura Shigaraki”, all that ever was, all that ever will be, belongs to All For One. “Tenko Shimura/Tomura Shigaraki” is not his own person. He is nothing more than a tragic figure in the story All For One is writing. Or so All For One wants him to think.

What I believe All For One has done in this chapter is to destroy Tomura’s illusion of “I have control over my life and the decisions I make” by setting up a new illusion for Tomura: “I have and never had any control over my life and my decisions whatsoever”. He pushed Tomura out of one extreme narrative straight into the next one. Both of which are at odds with the truth, however.

When dealing with All For One, we mustn’t forget that he is a liar and a manipulator, a groomer and an abuser. (In fact, he is so good, that he can even manipulate the fourth wall and make the BNHA fandom believe every little thing he says.) Naturally, he’ll always tell his victims what makes it easiest for him to manipulate them, be it lies, the truth, or a little bit of both.

Thus we should be careful to take his words at face value. He is definitely exaggerating when he claims that all of Tomura Shigaraki’s/Tenko Shimura’s decisions actually belong to him, his abuser. One example: Does anyone really think it was All For One’s decision that Tomura cares for the other members of the League? That he grew to genuinely trust Himiko, Twice, and even notorious anti-team-player #1 Dabi? Befriended Spinner? Fed Mr. Compress all the sushi he wanted? Decisions like these go completely against All For One’s modus operandi.

For me, the key to growing to appreciate this chapter and its revelations was to bring together all these extremes regarding Tomura’s struggle with agency, Tomura’s flawed perception of himself, other character’s flawed perceptions of Tomura, All For One’s exaggerated claims about Tomura and well… I guess to kinda conciliate them with each other. Tomura was groomed by All For One and thus has struggled with agency. He made many decisions All For One groomed him to make. But he also made decisions of his own.

Tomura is not a transcendent being. He is not a god. He is not destruction incarnated. He is not the angel of death. He is not an innocent little baby boy (not with a kill count like that). He is not a character in All For One’s story.

He is a victim but not just that. He is a villain but not just that. He is a hero to some but not just that.

In fact, I think the story (namely chapter 411, courtesy of Izuku Midoriya) already gave us the perfect term for what Tomura Shigaraki/Tenko Shimura truly is: a human being, nothing more, nothing less.

And I guess the key to giving this story a happy ending is to convince Tomura of that as well; that he is a human being whose first 21 years were shaped by All For One’s toxic influence, yes, but there is also a future for him without All For One. Where he can truly be free, make his own decisions, and grow into his own.

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