#Troy Calypso appreciation post | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

border-spam · 4 years

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Maw

Troy inspects his latest body modification prior to a planned reveal to his followers in a horrific LetsFlay, and considers how heavy the price he’s paid to change his appearance may really be.

Part of my Leech Lord AU series, some OC mentions. Long post. TW - Terminal illness, body image / mental health issues, gore, violence, death

He hissed sharply inwards, then held the breath in his lungs. Futilely willing his heartbeat to calm as he began to mentally count down from 10 like the surgeon had taught him. Every session had been a little better than before, he’d get through it. Stay focused, stay calm, and count from Ten...

Nine… Same as he’d had to do twice a day for the last month, knuckles turning white as his grip tightened on the rim of the stone basin. Eight… Same seemingly endless 10 seconds he’d endured over and over. They would end, keep breathing. Seven… Eyes screwed tightly closed and brow furrowed as the burning pain shot through his gums and jaw. Six… Slowly exhaling through his nose as the fire traveled down his throat and into the root of his tongue. Five… The surgeon had said this would take weeks, not a month. Four… Lower lip trembling as the pain faded into a throb, faster than last time, good. Three… He’d known it would need this care. He’d researched. He’d known. No regrets now. Two… He’d just overestimated how fast he would heal, that’s all. It was major surgery. It would be worth it in the end. One … It would be worth it.

It would be worth the pain.

Letting his head drop forward as he shuddered in a slow breath, Troy slowly opened his watery eyes and took in his reflection in the mirror he faced, softly illuminating him in the dark comfort of his ship’s washroom.

He looked haggard. Cool blue eyes bloodshot and beginning to spill over with the tears he’d held back as the pain subsided, normally rich sepia skin faded to a sickly pallor and glistening with sweat. Some king he was.

“F-fuck..” He sputtered, watching in disgusted fascination as the antiseptic wash gushed over his lips and into the sink under him, leaving strings of blood tinged saliva trailing under his chin. Deep crimson swirls mixing through the blue medical fluid as it splashed up the sides of the basin.

The reaction to the cleaning was a little better than last time, he thought with a sigh as he turned the faucet and watched the medical fluid swirl down the drain. It was healing, and he probably only had another week or so to go before it was fully functional, but shit. It hurt still. A lot.

Running a thumb gently over the swollen reddened seam in his lip, he decided to remind himself why he’d done this as he stared at the dribble of fresh blood it had leaked onto his finger.

Why he’d spent months researching, contacting body mod experts, surgeons, flaunting his name and infamy to reassure them that yes, he was serious. Yes, he had given this plenty of thought. Yes, he understood how major this would be. Yes, he appreciated how much of his jaw and tongue wouldn’t actually be him anymore. That things may not taste the way he remembered after. That his mouth would never be the same.

He had done it, because he didn’t like his mouth in the first place.

It was too soft. Too big, lips too full. It smiled too wide and drew the eye to his delicate cheekbones, he was so sick of being delicate. Troy had been delicate enough his entire childhood, he didn’t want to be as a man too. He wanted respect. He wanted power.

He’d never given it much thought before Pandora. Never really thought about how he looked at all. It had just never been something that required any attention. Why would either have them had even considered their appearances? How they looked had no affect on how well they scavenged, or helped his twin on the nights she was overwhelmed with the reality of her gifts, or change how Pop had acted around him..

It just had never mattered. They were them. They were each other. Why would they need to ever look different? How could it change anything?

He hadn’t cared till Pandora, till other people started to care. And comment. And they had commented plenty in those first few months he and his twin had spent trying to form what was now the planet consume behemoth known as the Children of the Vault. Tyreen had quickly been accepted after he’d designed her imposing outfit and she’d started styling her appearance, but he hadn’t been.

The tattoos had helped for a while, the gauges and piercings he got after too, but he’d had those years now, and he still wasn’t intimidating enough. He was still pitiful. That quiet, stammering, gut wrenchingly gentle voice in the back of his mind reminded him of that often enough on nights when he’d be unable to sleep. When he’d lay in bed staring at the dark ceiling of his bedchamber for hours, and feel his skin crawl while he pretended he couldn’t hear the whispers.

Their rapidly growing follower count had been plenty vocal about which of the twins was the more impressive. Which of the twins they mocked more. Which of the twins had fail collection echo vids of stumbling and looking sickly, and devoted fan forums offering pity and love for the clear underling.

He didn’t want pity. He didn’t want love. He wanted fear, so he changed it. He changed his face.

Troy Calypso is not Troy DeLeon. He does not make rash decisions and be hopeful for the best outcome, everything is planned, everything is schemed. A month out of public eye while he healed? That was fine. He preferred to not be in it that much recently anyway, not while he knew he looked soft…

That had changed now, he reminded himself, watching as his reflection slowly split its lips into a wide, vicious grin that didn’t quite reach its exhausted eyes.

His mouth was razor sharp now.

As the smile melted away, he let his jaw drop open, angling his head slowly from side to side to check the alignment with his skull. Perfect, so much better now that there wasn’t any swelling. Even and balanced, with no lingering stiffness like it had in the last week. If he didn’t know better, he’d think the seams that ran along the center of his chin and the width of his cheekbones were cosmetic, and man... he couldn’t wait to show the galaxy that they weren’t.

Bracing himself with a deep exhale, he lifted his arms, hooked his flesh fingers and prosthetic’s metal digits over the line of teeth on either side of his lower jaw, and snarled deeply as he pulled downwards. The sensation of this exercise had changed dramatically over the weeks. The agony of tearing apart the healing tissue had originally been so bad that the intensely powerful painkillers he’d been doped with for the first few days couldn’t mask it, but now it was more just.. strange. Like the tension of stretching a thick piece of elastic, but inside him. Muscles complained as they shifted unnaturally, despite weeks of training with them daily, but it didn’t hurt anymore. It just felt intimately wrong. Almost arousing in a way, and he noted with an amused snort that this could be a lot of fun in bed once healed up. Well, fun for him. Then again, he was all that ever mattered in that situation anyway. He stored it away as something else to look forward to after the reveal. Slowly easing the jaw downwards, he felt his upper lip curl into a smile as the latches on either side of his cheeks popped open, responding smoothly to the downwards movement on cue. No pain, no stiffness, an improvement at last. It really had been worth doing these exercises. Tilting his head back slowly to allow the jaw to distend fully downwards, he counted to three, a deep breath through his throat for each digit, and slowly… gently… began to pull outward. The shuddering crack that ran through his jawbone as it disconnected at the front seam reverberated up though his skull just like last time he’d done this, and he winced at the sharp jolt of pain. Bad, but nothing unbearable. He’d been through far worse. It still wept blood as it split apart and stretched to either side, but it was clean, and healing, and it looked monstrous.

It was perfect.

Holding each part of his split mandible outwards, he let himself relax, focusing on the muscular movement needed to force the modified tongue out from the depths of his throat and to hang beneath the open maw. This had healed really quickly, he’d been honestly surprised, but the damage in his neck had taken time. The torn and reattached muscle at the connection to his original tongue’s root in his throat still burned and ached like a healing bruise as he forced the slithering length outwards to lol between the jaws, and he slowly removed his hands from them. Keeping the jaws open like this with just muscle control had been something he’d only managed a day ago, and the difference in strength already was incredible. He watched the undulating waves of the extended tongue as it coiled, drool rolling down its writhing length as the mandibles above it twitched with the effort of holding them open without any support. The modified row of secondary teeth hidden inside the line of his natural jaw bone were exactly how he’d wanted them, serrated fangs pointing inwards like barbs. They knit together into a solid plate and rested under his tongue when the mandible closed, but open like this? Beautiful. Terrifying. His mouth looked like a weapon. It looked like he could eat you alive. Let’s see them laugh at him now, let’s see them call him soft when he could crunch their bones between his fucking teeth.

Troy gargled a crackling laugh over the pooling drool in his throat, smile creasing his eyes in the mirror’s reflection as the light caught his distended golden canines, inhumanly long tongue curling at the end in mirth. This was his mouth now. No one else in the universe had a mouth like this, this was unique! This was - “b-broken.”

That voice again...

“… Kkrrokennn... ” he slurred against his palate, tongue grotesquely twitching towards his chest as it attempt to form the word.

Now there was a memory he’d prefer to have not surfaced right now, swallowing the tongue slowly back into his throat as the mandible began to close.

It had been a long time, huh. Long time since he’d first noticed. Long time since he’d last asked why… He lifted his left hand and carefully pressed the lagging right mandible upwards, feeling the click as it connected and realigned with its twin. His eyes locked on his mouth in the mirror’s reflection, and absolutely not on the shape his peripheral vision insisted was standing in the darkness behind him. The one that he was aware was now speaking once more…

“Maybe it was j-just easier for her to not say the truth. Maybe you were less of a burden on her that way, huh. She m-must have been so tired of looking after you, Pop too. They must have been counting the minutes…” He heard it whisper in the back of his mind, that sickening, gentle voice it was getting harder and harder to tune out recently.

“Shut the fuck up.” He muttered under his breath, slowly leaning over the sink and resting his elbows in the rim, watching the water spiral down into the darkness of the drain. He’d made himself.. he’d made himself even more different now. Hadn’t he. Even more broken. What would she think now.

He treasures the memory of Leda. He loves her completely, and he knows that’s true, because damn.. the feelings never changed. He’s never stopped. When he thinks about his mother, he feels the exact same way he did last time he saw her. He was what, 8? Yeah. They were 8 when it happened, that’s right. They were 25 now… They had decayed from children into monsters and still, the exact same warmth blossoms deep in his core when he thinks of her now as it did when he was a little boy.

He feels the twinge of a smile pull at the seam on his lip as he focuses on letting his mind wander back to when he last saw her, but he wishes, in a festering way, she could see him now. Not because it would make her proud, no. God no. He knows she would be repulsed by what he sees in the mirror now, the thing with the metal fangs and hatred inked into its skin, but because he could show her how broken he really had been.

That he knew all along when he’d asked over and over as a child. That she should have just told him and not wasted her love and care on something that would become so disgusting.

He closes his eyes, listening to the running water gargling down the echoing pipe below him, and leans heavier onto this arms. Remembering.

God. He had been so sick.

-----

Day after day, unable to leave his parent’s bed, watching Tyreen’s tantrum’s towards Momma and Pop because Troy couldn’t come explore, or Troy was coughing too much, or Troy got to sleep with them when she didn’t, and it had really hurt to see her sad because of him. It had been his fault she was lonely.

He remembers the guilt, wanting so much to get up and go play with his sister, but not being able to stand for too long before the shakes would start, and then the seizures... Remembers being bundled up in Leda’s arms and bouncing against her hard shoulder as she ran back to their home, screaming at Typhon for letting Troy out of his sight. Troy was sick. Troy needed to rest. But he rested for so long that he forgot what it had been like before, and he never got any better.

He remembers the endless questions, and that they never gave him real answers, even though deep down he knew it was just because he was...

“Why do my stripes not glow, but Ty’s do, Pop?”

“Ty-die, how come you can make those sparks but I can’t do anything?“

“Momma how come everyone else has two arms and everyone else isn’t sick and I’m...“

“Broken broken broken BROKEN”

He remembers the gentle jostle of Leda shifting over onto the bed with him, the heat of her big strong hands against his ribs as she helped prop him up against the pillow as he weakly reached for the little wooden Knight he had left behind on Nekrotafeyo when they escaped. The one Sparrow had made for him. He remembers the frustration of not being able to hold it tightly enough to lift it, and how that seemed so very important at the time. Like it was the most unfair thing in the world. He remembers the comfort of her long fingers sweeping the hair back from his feverish forehead as he glared down at the faded wooden Knight with it’s snapped leg and peeling green paint, and the exhaustion in her voice as she wearily answered -

“Well.. not everyone is the same, Moonbright. Some people are sick sometimes, some people have shapes that might not look like other’s. Some people can sing, some people are clever, some people are kind, some people are terrible. Everyone’s different, babe. ”

And he remembers how dumb that answer sounded, trying not to be angry as he frowned, rolling the little wooden Knight on his lap as he stared down at the dull red markings across the fingers that gripped its broken leg.

“Yeah but Momma.. Why am I so different. ”

---

They never answered it. They never just said the truth. "Everyone is different" is obvious, of course he knew that. Kids aren’t stupid, and he had been a clever kid.. he had spent so many days in that bed wondering why they never just told him the reason he was so.. wrong. So many more as an adult wondering why did it take 13 more years of thinking back and questioning for Tyreen to matter of factly state “...Cuz they were waiting for you to die.” while filing her nails one evening in their shared quarters.

He knows now that they did it out of love, but he also knows he harbors some deep, toxic frustration with his parents because of it. He knows they were trying to keep him happy, that they thought the truth too cruel, but… he spent so many nights sick and alone and in pain, wondering that same question over and over as a child.. and they never told him.

Ty did. Ty does. Ty knows he’s just fucking broken.

They had tried to lie, to keep him from the cruel reality, but it had been true, and he wishes Leda could look at him now, see him hunched over a bloody sink having defiled his face, just so that she could turn away from him in disgust. Then he could know she hated him. Then he could stop holding on, just give up. Just let it go. Become this thing he’d crafted himself into, instead of holding on to dying threads of who he wished he still was inside. He lifts his hand to his face and presses his fingers into the bridge of his nose, pinching, the swirling water background noise now against the pressure inside his head.

How much of him was even left, really. How much of him was metal now, how much of him was the God King.

Years ago, when they had first arrived, Seifa had said he could become anything he wanted to make himself on Pandora, that he had a fresh start. A life. That it could be his choice, and that he had as much a say in it as Tyreen… and look at what he had made himself into in the end.

Exactly what she’d sworn to him that he wasn’t.

Less than 6 months since she’d dropped him like the burden he was, and he’d done this. He’d betrayed them both. Would Mom cry, or not have the tears to waste on what he’d chosen to become after everything she did to try and hide it from him.

A broken, monstrous thing.

He sighs, squinting at the faucet before reaching out and turning it off, then rubs at his eyes in the quiet of the dark washroom, smearing eyeliner further across his cheeks. He’s tired. He could have done without remembering this. It’s hard enough to sleep nowadays without getting stuck on shit like this all night. He stands slowly, stretching his back with a series of pops, and touches the tender side of his jaw gingerly. He still had a few of those painkillers, he remembers with a sniff. Couple of those should knock him out. Keep the nightmares away for one more night. He’d be making his big reveal soon anyway… With one last glance at the mirror, confirming he was alone in the room, Troy turned and walked towards the door to his bedchamber. Sleep now. Emotional bullshit later. That was for tomorrow him, he’d fix it then. He could fix everything, after all. Fixing problems was his forte. He only ever needed time.

---

The LetsFlay numbers looked gooood.

3 billion concurrent viewers and rising according to the stream data flickering in the inner forearm of his prosthetic, they were hungry for this. They were hungry to see him, he gloated, easily sidestepping the frantic stabbing of the heretic who’d been unfortunate enough to find themself face to face with God King Calypso in the wild melee of this raid. 3.5 now he glimpsed, grin wide enough to strain the clips at his cheeks as his sword crunched through the man’s torso, the weight of his prosthetic arm enough to make its downwards swing render solid bone to wet fragments. They didn’t even have time to yelp. Shame, that would have been great for the fans watching from home. He’d planned ahead to get the hype built around this specific raid, his media team working around the clock to spread articles and social updates that the King would be making an appearance, the first in the public’s eye in 2 months, and that he had a fun surprise to unveil for his followers. That he would be leading this raid, just him, all him. No Tyreen. She wasn’t needed this time.

The chaos around him is deafening, screeches shrieking over gunfire as COV marauders scream litanies to the Twin Gods while tearing the camp and its inhabitants apart. Heretics, idiots, they brought this on themselves. They should have taken the offer, joined the Children of the Vault when approached, not attacked a protected caravan in response. He laughs viciously over the raucous, grabbing a panicked bandit who’d dropped to their knees to beg for mercy in front of him, stuttering that they were a true believer as his retinue of crusaders slaughtered other heretics around them. Bullshit. Now they were just fodder, fuel for the media machine, playthings to tear apart on livestream and rile up the followers, get those sweet donations coming in, and mannn were those donations coming in, he noted with a chuckle, barely registering the wet popping of the man’s ribs puncturing his lungs as he ground him into the dirt with the monstrous robotic fist.

This was a great score. This was a game now, and he wished she could see him, blood spattering over his bare, toned torso as he marched onwards, pausing only to rip another piece of screeching meat in two, or sink metal teeth into a limb and tear it from its joint, and each new kill made the score go up:

--- 4 billion viewers. ---

His eyes burn with laughter as he crushes another throat, skin flushed and breathing heavy.

--- 4.5 billion viewers. ---

He sensually smears the blood dripping from his gilded mouth over his chest and abdomen with a obscene caress of his hand, maintaining eye contact with the floating cam circling him as he sneers, the adoration of billions of rabid followers flowing back through the flashing lens.

--- 5.5 billion viewers.

25 billion dollars in donations and it was all for HIM, for God King Calypso. ---

He wished Leda could see him now.

She can’t, but if she could, she’d really see. She’d know what he was all along. That she’d been wrong, and she should had killed him when she had the chance. Then he wouldn’t be here now, doing this to these filth.

His heart is pounding and he can’t fill his lungs quick enough, the insanity of the camp being slaughtered around him is just a blur of viscera and violence. It’s a bloodthirsty high he’s not felt in years and he’s lost to it, the carnal pulse of snapping bone and screaming faces, he’s invincible. He’s immortal, a God tearing through paper thin flesh as it laughs through bloodstained fangs. He’s Troy Calypso, Twin God, God King, he’s perf- Breath rushes out of his chest in a forced bellow as fire erupts through his ribs, and everything stops.

No sound, no movement. Just a heretic to his left, a crude bayonet, and a lucky stab. His retinue guard missed the open flank. A crusader is screaming his name but it’s not reaching him, he can’t hear them now. All he can see is this disgusting, meaningless, mortal thing staring into the eyes of a God, and the raw terror in their gaze as they realise they’ve missed anything vital. They whisper something, perhaps an apology, but it’s too late.

In one fluid motion, Troy’s maw splits and engulfs their entire head as he whips to the side.

There is a single second that feels like an infinity as the entire camp seems to draw in a silent breath, as every marauder, every crusader, every piece of bandit scum looks on in silent, horrified awe. Billions of eyes across the echonet watch in shock in that moment that seems to last an eternity. Watch as he feels the man’s muffled scream start against his tongue, as the serrated fangs lock into his flesh, watch as with a guttural roar, Troy bites down…

… and the heretic’s skull is crushed in his jaws.

Bone shards and pulped brain matter burst between the mandibles in a spray of gore, and the bloodcurdling screech that rises up from the followers throughout the camp is like nothing he has ever heard. It’s like a dream.

It’s a swelling hymn from the mouths of hundreds, all to him, to his glory. They shriek his name in a fervent prayer to their hallowed God King, and he closes his eyes as the chanting swells to a cacophony around him, blood streaming down his chest as he lets the mangled body drop from his hanging maw to the ground.

The hysterical screaming rises to fever pitch, and he stands, unmoving. Their God. Eyes closed and arms held open in triumphant welcome as the deafening noise engulfs him, heart pounding through frantic ecstasy as viscera drops from his twitching jaws.

A towering monster standing amongst the corpses of insects.

He glances down, panting, at his stream data. Letting his mind focus on the blinking panel as he yanks the bloody bayonet from his heaving ribs with a grunt.

--- 8.5 billion live viewers.

“God King Calypso” trending across all major social media.

55 billion dollars in donations to the LetsFlay stream. ---

He wishes she could see what he is now, so he could stop pretending to himself she’d still love him.

He just hopes the camera isn’t picking up the tears he can taste as they drip from his cheeks and run down his squirming tongue.

Check out the #my hcs and #my writing tags on blog for more content if you enjoyed this! Comments and reblogs appreciated. :)

#borderlands #borderlands 3 #bl3 #troy calypso #tyreen calypso #calypso twins #my writing #my hcs #ocs #seifa

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urproblematicfav-arsonk · 4 years

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There's a lot of things about Borderlands 3 that makes it kinda a garbage game. And all of those things are valid and true but a aspect of bl3 that deeply bothers me isn't something I've really seen people talk about?? Maybe they have but I missed it but I want to say my interpretation. (Also like, spoiler warning throughout all of this post)

To start off with: hi, I'm a autistic afab nonbinary person and this is relevant for this little rant I'm bout to go on.

I want to begin by stating why I love this franchise so much.

Borderlands, whether you like it or not, is INCREDIBLY queer. And not in a coded kind of way, it's just flat out gay as fuck. And that means so fucking much to me. Borderlands 2 was one of the first times I ever felt fully represented in a game. Zer0 being this dumbass making Yugioh references and generally being a fun garbage boy and also being nonbinary meant a lot to me and I adore him to this day (nonbinary people can use gendered pronouns fuc off). And getting more and more into this series and finding out that basically every character was on some level queer was really cool to me. Maya being asexual and most of the characters being attracted to multiple genders so honestly and off handily was so refreshing and amazing to get to play through. The casual mentions of a woman's wife or some man's husband in the echo's you find or Moxxi talking about her ex girlfriends was one of the reasons I loved this so much.

Another thing I loved particularly about Borderlands 2 was how feminist it was. I can not tell you how quickly I lost my shit at Mr. Torgue talking about the friend zone being misogynistic(it is btw). And the repeated jokes about fully murdering men for being rude to women was some of the highlights of my first playthrough. Punching a guy till he explodes because he disrespected a sex worker?? Fucking immaculate.

SPEAKING OF SEX WORK.

Mad Moxxi is a icon. She is a mother of MULTIPLE children, a survivor of rape and assault and a fucking bad bitch who runs a now intergalactic titty bar. Getting to have not only a sex worker be respected in a narrative, Moxxi is fun and a genuinely complex character who isn't defined by her job or her appearance. She is emotional and strong and funny and flawed but amazing person.

And then there's the way the male characters a represented and treated. I'll be honest here, I haven't really played Borderlands 1, mostly because have been spoiled by auto pick up and also I just didn't feel like it. So my idea of most of the men are based entirely off of Bl2, the pre-sequel and Tales. Anyway, Mordecai in particular is a character I really liked upfront. I love how a lot of his motivation and character is driven by his love of animals and Bloodwing. He's kind and though troubled knows when to get his shit together and be there when he needs to be. His casual "are you okay?" After the latter falls in the Arid Nexus was such a nice moment and the way he genuinely tries to be there emotionally for all of the people around him who he cares for is so fucking rare to see in a male character. And his arc of giving up alcohol to focus on being a better bird dad and you getting to help Brick make Mordecai a special gift to celebrate his sobriety is so amazing and I'm so proud of him.

Mr. Torgue is my dad and I love him. As mentioned, he is normal and believes that the friend zone is absolute garbage talk is ICONIC™ and the best scene in that game fight me. Torgue is a crybaby. He is an emotional person who is not afraid to express his pain and hurt when people are mean to him. He respects women and loves unicorns. The fact that is physical appearance is a big muscle guy who screams but is the literal opposite of toxic masculinity will forever make him the best male character of all time and I love him and he is my dad.

Roland was a character that I was never in particularly attached to but I still respect him and did enjoy his presence. I really appreciated his leadership style being primarily based on empathy and logic as opposed to him being a big meanie man with a HUGE dick who yells at people. I always really resonated with the echo from Tannis talking about how she came to Sanctuary. Roland going out of his way to bring Tannis to safety while completely respecting her autism and struggle with socializing really made his death hit harder when Tannis was very obviously distraught by losing him. It really seems that Roland was the only one who didn't treat her differently. And as someone who's autistic, finding people who legit 100% understand and respect you and just let you live the way you want/need to is kinda hard and those are the qualities I'd personally want in a leader.

Angel is also a big spot of affection for me. Handsome Jack being a irrefutably horrible person who Angel flat out says gaslights people and killed her means a lot to me considering 99% of Bad Parent stories end with "I forgive u" getting to see an abusive victim take that narrative and say fuck you was powerful and meant a lot to me coming from my own abusive home life.

There's a lot of other things I love about Borderlands but if I keep going I won't stop lol so let's get into why Borderlands 3 makes me so uncomfortable.

One of the main things that bothered me was the sexism. Its nothing too horrifying but given how feminist bl2 was it was really shocking and a bit hurtful the number of times women are called bitches or made to seem crazy. If you recall I brought up how you punch a man to death for calling a woman a bitch? Yea no, in this game we mock women for having boundaries and opinions because lol she's just a CRAZY BITCH who just needs to stop acting so hysterical am I right guys?

Yea the whole mission with that stupid bear thing and his ex robot girlfriend made me insanely uncomfortable and upset. I kept waiting for the gotcha moment where it says actually this bear guy is a dick and he shouldn't use language like that but no we just,,,,,, are supposed to laugh along. I hate it.

Even though Borderlands 3 is still very much queer, this game introducing 2 new trans characters as well as a whole DLC about a gay marriage and one of the playable characters being a lesbian there was this some shit that bothered me.

The mission where you crash and ruin a lesbian wedding.

That mission made so upset and uncomfortable. I hated how traumatized and hurt Tumorhead was as I murdered her family and wife. I hated how unfulfilling the mission was where PLOT TWIST the lady was actually a spy or whatever. I hate how there's a mission about ruining some poor psycho ladies wedding. I would've much more preferred a mission where Idk Bloodshine asks you to help her kill a spy who's causing problems and then fucking go around Promethea collecting wedding decorations or something. OR MAYBE JUST NOT A MISSION WHERE YOU KILL LESBIANS FOR NO FUCKING REASON.

I'm mad, anyway.

I also hated how Tannis was treated in this game. Under absolutely no circumstance would Doctor Patricia Tannis ever willingly take up a position of leadership. She is a severely autistic woman who gets nose bleeds from talking to people she wouldn't just be like "I'm in charge now pls talk to me!!!" Fuck off. And the joke about her dating a minecart isn't funny. The whole thing with the chairs, though funny in its absurdities was still a very important and powerful moment of character exploration. Tannis is insane. She is traumatized and hurt and in a moment of severe torture, she humanized some inanimate objects to cope. Tannis crying over the echo over Phillip is a heartbreaking moment of true vulnerability. It is also funny, because that's how good dark comedy works. It can be both hysterical and emotionally ruining at the same time. So what exactly does Tannis divorcing a minecart mean? What is this saying about her character? Why is it funny? Because lol lol reference??? Again, fuck off.

I hate how the Calypso twins childhood is handled. Troy implies it was horribly abusive and traumatic. But when we met Typhon whatever, he acts like it wasn't that bad??? He acts like he just didn't buy his kids the latest iPhone and oh no whoopsie now they're evil, my bad guys. It feels super weird and I don't like it.

Speaking of abusive parents. THEY DID MY GIRL ANGEL DIRTY SO BAD. This was literally when I decided I hated this game. Angel being the one who killed her mother and not Jack was fucking horrible. Especially after the literal foreshadowing in borderlands 2 implying he did. The fact that Jack is treated like a fearful man making what he thought was the right decision was insulting. I get that MattPat manipulated the fandom into thing Jack is a uwu bean but fuck you, you're the writers and you should fucking know better. Handsome Jack saw his daughter had power and turned her into a living battery for him to use as he saw fit. He was not scared and he was NOT right. Fuck you and fuck you for framing child abuse as chill and ok if your spooked enough like that. And the mission directly contradicts the echo's in Get To Know Jack. If Angel killed her mom why does she ask Jack where her mommy is when he's putting her in her chambers?? Why is it in the echo Jack is aggressive and forcibly and hurtfully makes her go into her chambers but in the memory, he's quiet and passive about it?? That's literally just flat out bad writing. Also fuck you.

Anyway,

I think that's really all I wanted to say about this topic. Obviously, there are also things that suck about bl3 but I'll try to chill and not make this too long.

I mostly wanted to make this to see if people cared/are bothered by the same things I am. I've seen how some of the fandom treats the more emotional and gay aspects of this franchise(the people throwing a fit over Amara, the friend zone line, not respecting trans peoples pronouns, sexualizing and being gross about Moxxi)

Anyway that's it byeeeeeeeeeeeee

#rant time #i was also gonna post this on reddit but it turns out i don't know how to use that app lol #so i prob wont #but dont worry still got tumblr #anyway #borderlands #borderlands spoilers #borderlands 3 spoilers #borderlands 3 #borderlands 2

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marsmaru · 4 years

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Its been a while since I’ve posted about my fics. (• v •) Below are my current Borderlands fics, Calypso Twins themed. Links are for AO3 and please read author’s notes for extra tags.

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Let’s Flay: The Plaything Series (Rated M)

Pairings: Tyreen x Reader, Troy x Reader

(Story in AO3)

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The Favorite One (Rated Ex)

Pairings: Tyreen x Reader, Troy x Reader

(Story in AO3)

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Shorts of Sorts & Troy’s Shorts (Rated T)

Pairings depend on chapter: Tyreen x Reader, Troy x Reader, Others

(Story in AO3)

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I usually share a link in Tumblr whenever I update a chapter. Comments and kudos are appreciated in AO3 or here in Tumblr. (•w•) Have a nice day!

#marsmaru writing #my writing #borderlands 3 #troy calypso #tyreen calypso #borderlands fanfiction #calypso twins #the calypso twins

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nikyri-art · 4 years

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After so long the first “chapter” is finally here! :’D This will hopefuly be a short illustrated novel series. The story takes place before the events of Borderlands 3. I would never be able to make this without the help of my sweet friend @border-spam who provided my with so much support, great ideas, inspiration and with her help to rewrite this. Actually it’s kind of colaboration of me, my man and her. Since my man helped with rewriting too. Huge Thanks to them because without them editing it, I would never post it. <3 . . . Usually, this would have been resolved in just a few minutes. Having a team of his own technicians to take care of streaming issues was surely one of his greatest ideas. He still has to check up on them directly every so often, mostly for his own assurance that everything is running smoothly, but today, what should have been a quick check in was taking longer because some idiot meat sack follower had damaged some streaming equipment. Because of that dumbass, Troy has been left trying to get this tech repaired and the stream online before Tyreen loses her patience with the delay. Luckily, one of his most trusted editors was around to help him with cable replacement.

Troy sits in front of the monitor array, nervous as time ticks on, bouncing his leg while impatiently watching the little symbol on the monitor in front of him, waiting for it to signal the connection is back ON. His ECHO’s screen next to him updates with new pings so quickly it’s constantly lit, that’s how often his Godly sister is messaging him, and each new blip and ping from the echo makes him even more frustrated.. but he tries his absolute best to keep it inside, and not to aim his inner anger at the girl that has offered him help.

She’s the one currently sat under the desk beneath him, expertly fixing the cables running under it. A hugely welcome help, considering he’d never be able to fit under it to try himself.

Tinkers are best for these kind of repairs, smaller hands able to quickly handle finicky tech, able to get into places he can’t because of his height. His editor isn’t exactly a Tink, but you could easily mistake her as one due to her small size.

Just as he feels himself ready to snap, Tyreen’s constant pings and the delay on the stream causing his frustration to reach boiling point, a victorious laugh erupts from her under the desk. “AH-HA! YESSS!”

The symbol on the monitor finally turns green, and his scowl shifts into a genuine smile. “Helllll yeah, we are live baby!” His left arm quickly works the keyboard, testing the stream tech and getting it set up, until a gentle tap on his knee breaks his concentration.

“Umm, it’s not like I don’t enjoy the fabulous view from between your legs… but could you please let me out?” Her soft voice pleads from under the table.

He smirks, and pushes his chair back just enough to make her think she is free, but instead hunches down, looking under at her with his trademark shit-eating grin.

“I don’t know Ari, can I? Honestly, I really like you being down the-” he is interrupted as his face is gently pushed away by a really small hand. As soon as he shifts backwards, she crawls out and dusts off her jeans while giving her God a playful smile.

Any other cultist would pay with their life for daring to touch the God King like this, but she’s somehow special to him. Maybe it could even be called a friendship of some kind. Or at least, that’s how he sees their whole relationship. They’ve worked together almost every day for three years, and as the years passed he’s found himself talking to her, enjoying her company, choosing to be around her.. but Troy is too busy running the cult to have time for real friendships, and the only people he spends any time with besides his sister are the people in his editing team.

It’s a rare thing for him to find someone like her, someone who isn’t just a bloodthirsty idiot screeching psychotically. Someone who actually has enough brain cells to have a real conversation. That what drew him to his little friend over time. She does, of course, respect him as a God, but she does treat him.. differently. Something that feels almost like those fleeting nice moments he shares with Tyreen sometimes, facades forgotten every once in a while. His God King persona really dislikes that this woman dares to treat him like anything less than a deity, but the lonely man inside of him secretly wishes she’d do it more. It’s a kind of closeness he craves desperately.

He returns the grin and stands up, ready to leave. “Nice! Now we can finally start the stream!”. His Echo lights up one more showing Tyreen’s name again, and he curses under his breath and picks it up, bracing himself to answer the onslaught of messages. While he begins to text his sister, he notices his friend silently standing to his side, staring. Staring at his chest, to be exact. Staring so intensively she’s paused in her tracks and not left yet.

Many people stare at Troy, and for many reasons. Cultists stare in adoration and respect, the “civilised” assholes he spends unwanted time around stare in disgust, but she’s staring in a different way, and that’s why it’s sparked so much curiosity in him.

She doesn’t notice he’s completely aware of her awe as he breaks the silence. “Heh, I know it’s really hard not to get a good eyeful sweetie, but don’t forget to blink every once in a while.” he purrs.

Again, just as before, his attempt to fluster her doesn’t work. Maybe that is why he enjoys being near her so much, she isn’t as easily controlled as everyone else, and he’s noticed over time that she actually does have a couple of similar tricks as his up her sleeves as well.

She looks up at him and he’s almost insulted by her perfectly controlled expression, feigning complete boredom, like his last line hadn’t even landed. “I wasn’t staring, I was wondering.”

“Where.. did you even get those tattoos?”

Now she really has his attention. “The guys who tattoo the psychos are really terrible at it, but yours look actually, well, professional.” His ECHO keeps beeping and flickering, frantically alerting him that he should have left and been on stream, but this little rascal just hit a real sweet spot, and there is no way he’s going to leave right now.

The urge to smile was too strong, and he lets out a soft laugh as she continues to look up at him, so confident and relaxed in his presence despite being barely taller than his navel. Even without realising it, she just appreciated his work. He’s the artist behind the iconic Calypso tattoo on his chest. It was a long process he’d taken his time with after coming to loath the shitty arm tattoos he got from some jackhole years ago. He’d stopped trusting others to tattoo him and taken up the craft himself. The skull on his shoulder was the only older one that looked at remotely decent even before the siren tattoos burned right through it, and he was grateful the rest had been burned through badly over time.

He puts his hand around his hip and pushes his coat aside, leaning back to stretch the taught lines of muscle across his inked abdomen and chest to give her a better look.

“Well that’s because they were done by a professional, not some scumfuck idiot. Why so curious about it anyway, sweets?” He croons, enjoying the way she shifts on her feet slightly. “You fancy on gracing that little body with some art yourself? Maybe something to honor and please your God?”

Using this moment to her advantage, she dares to take a step nearer to him to get a better look at the tattoos. From a closer look, it’s clear that it’s been a while since he’d gotten them, the ink slightly faded against his warm coffee toned skin. The most interesting design is of course the skull that’s hidden behind the hanging chains around his neck, and she wants a better look at it.

Pushing her boundaries yet again, she slowly reaches towards them and carefully shifts them out of the way, gently brushing her fingers against his skin in the process. It would be easy to miss how his breath hitches a little when she touched him, or how goosebumps blossom across his chest, but she was way to close to not notice. He glares intensely at the top of her head, glare burning right through her, and even though she doesn’t look at him, she feels it.

When she finally lifts her head to look into his sapphire eyes, she swears she notices a hint of blush on his cheeks above the wolfish grin. Against her will, the corners of her mouth turn up into a smile. God King Calypso is a very interesting mess of a man once you start to see past the act he plays for most people. Though he is extremely confident and intimidating on the outside, she’s started to suspect that inside hides a shy little boy. Even still, regardless of those slightly red cheeks, he never loses that aura of danger, and she’s nervously aware that she is playing with fire right now..

Why is he so proud of this tattoo? She’s only seen him act like this around something he’s responsible for. Maybe it’s the skull and the rest of the design… He is the creator of almost all of the propaganda art the COV uses, so it wouldn’t really be surprising if he had designed his own tattoos, would it? She crosses her arms in front of her chest and perks an eyebrow as she considers how to respond.

“Yeah… I would love to get some nice tattoos as well, but I don’t trust any of those psychotic bastards to get remotely close to me, let alone touch me…”

“Maaaybe the artist that tattooed you could give me a hand and help me out with mine?“

It’s not a secret that the God King despises bandits. They are below him, and many of the bastards had been killed just for getting too close to his liking. The only reason her and the Tinkers aren’t ever reduced to steaming piles of viscera for daring to interact with him is because they are useful, smart. Of course he wouldn’t let any of those bandit idiots do this tattoo… which means the person tattooing him has to be someone at least modestly sane, someone she could trust. Thats exactly what she’s looking for, since avoiding bandits in general is the best decision regardless.

She notices how much her last question has pleased him… His smug smile grows unnaturally wide, the amount of teeth starting to show is giving her a bad feeling in her guts, and she swallows nervously before be finally replies.

“You want the artist to help out with yours? Oh surrrre I can.” he rumbles triumphantly, and she feels her stomach drop as she realises what’s just happened.

“Finding the right canvas for my art is never easy, but I’m very interested in working on yours.” Her eyes widen further as he leans down to her so that predatory grin fills her vision, just so he can enjoy her surprise from up close.

Now she finally understands why he was so pleased. So eager to discuss this. So happy to play along. Not only did he design his tattoos, he tattooed them as well.

This wasn’t what she wanted at all. It was fine to chat with him about some tech or shared interested when he was in a good mood, but the God King was still a power she did not want to play with. She could get burned, badly, even when she knows he doesn’t hurt anyone from his team as long as they are obedient and respectful.

She desperately tries to get out of this fast. “Ah.. um.. well.. I didn’t really decide on any design yet, I really need to get that right first!” Convincing as that sounds, he navigates around it instantly, too clever to let her slip out of his grasp so easily.

“Oh no problem, I can design something great for you, that wouldn’t be a problem at all.” She swears his eyes are burning through her as her cheeks redden. “Oh, um, I was actually thinking about getting a piercing first, for a start?” his smile grows wider. “After all these years spent here, I don’t even have my ears pierced. The holes grew back together, maybe that would be a good start..”

This is exactly why she doesn’t like being alone with him. He’s so good with words, twisting situations to his own benefit. A sly snake, he does anything he can to get what he wants, and he always gets what he wants…

The ECHO in his hand beeps again, giving her a moment of hope, but he ignores it completely, all attention on the shaking woman he’s got trapped in his coils.

“Well lucky you! I’m really experienced with both tattoos AND piercings!” Now it really is too late, he has her trapped, cornered by her own words. He’d picked up on her twisting and changing her opinions just to try and get out of this, and made sure he was a step ahead of her each time.

“Come to my workshop tomorrow morning the same time you normally start work, we can… hmm… map out some ideas together.”

“See you later Ari.”

A cocky wink later and he finally leaves the room, leaving the poor girl standing there hopeless….

#troy calypso #borderlands 3 #borderlands fanart #Borderlands OC #fanfiction #(kinda)#borderlands fanfiction #Ari #fanfic #oc #original character #bl3 #short story #au #borderlands #Ariana-Serino

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dresspheres · 4 years

Text

306 Icons | Troy Calypso | Borderlands 3

This icon pack might be updated if new contant comes out.

306 Icons for Troy Calypso from Borderlands 3.

Please like or reblog this post if you plan on using the icons.

Credit me if you edit them! Otherwise, credit’s very much appreciated.

Download here.

Preview

#Borderlands Icons #Borderlands RP #Borderlands 3 #Troy Calypso #Troy Calypso Icons #Troy (Borderlands)#Borderlands #species: human #male #hc: black #hl: short #ec: white #tan skin #age: adult

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doom-dreaming · 5 years

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Ash’s (Borderlands) Writing Masterpost

Since I’ve had an influx of new followers and I’ve been spitting out fics like bullets from a Vladof rifle, I figured I’d group them all together for ease of navigation and all that jazz. I’ll give links to the Tumblr post(s) and Ao3 for all of them.

I have an open (but moderated) Ao3 collection for any and all writing involving the twins, if you’d like to add your work to it. I would ask that you read THIS POST before submitting.

This is a long post, so the lists will be under the cut, but if you wanted to be added to a tag list for any category (or multiple), just send me a message or comment and I’ll add you! :)

Things will be added to this, so I may reblog it from time to time. Feel free to reblog it, but just be aware that it will have additions that won’t make it into your reblog. Now that I’ve said ‘reblog’ 4 times in one paragraph, here are the actual lists:

Calypso Twins (No Ships):

Lifeline [tumblr] [ao3] - short little thing regarding my personal headcanon about the twins and how Tyreen cares for Troy

Paint It Black [tumblr] [ao3] - more headcanon, the twins have a specific ritual that sort of becomes a soothing mechanism whenever they deal with trauma

The Calypso Project [tumblr] [ao3] - an idea suggested by a friend, different take on an origin story for the twins - Tyreen is abducted by Atlas as an infant and Troy is actually a clone (Atlas’ attempt to fabricate a siren) - formatted like a bunch of archived audio logs

Joystick (aka: Chat Shenanigans) [tumblr] [ao3] - the twins jump into a game with some of their fans. The results are...interesting - (I would recommend reading on Tumblr because of the color formatting)

Too Strong To Be Denied [tumblr] [ao3] - BLOOD, TORTURE, BRAINWASHING; the twins capture you and immediately go to work making you into the perfect disciple

Troy and/or Tyreen x (Gender-Neutral) Reader:

Give Your Flesh [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [ao3] - in-progress; reader is a cult member who caught Troy’s attention; originally intended as p*rn, ended up developing a plot - smut smut smut

Faithful [tumblr] [ao3] - sin sin sin; Troy comes back from an unsuccessful raid and takes out his aggression on you

Hunting Ground [tumblr] [ao3] - GRAPHIC GORE; after a rough day, you find a semi-remote bar, planning only on passing through, but Troy has other plans

Obey [tumblr] [ao3] - when the God Queen gives an order, you obey. Best to remember that, pet

“Dear Digital Diary” [tumblr] [ao3] - smut alert; you’re the Twins’ video editor and you have a small crush on Troy. Nothing that’ll get in the way of your work...

Just A Diversion [tumblr] [ao3] - set vaguely in The Pet ‘Verse, you struggle with your feelings about Troy’s fling with Aurelia

Various AUs:

Test Drive (Vault Hunter AU) [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [ao3] - short Calypsomancer (Troy/Gaige) fic - Gaige builds Troy a new arm and he, uh....tests it out on her (kinda) - part 4 is smut

Human Disasters (College AU) [tumblr] [ao3] - a mostly twins-centric look into the lives of the students at Fyrestone University; the title is 100% because of Troy

Rhys/Fiona:

These aren’t connected per se, but I’ve listed them in order of where they would appear chronologically in-game. More will be added as I post them here. They’re already up on Ao3, I wrote them a couple years ago after I finished playing Tales.

Definitely Not Concerned [tumblr] [ao3] - Rhys comes down with a stomach bug on their way to get the first Gortys upgrade. Fiona doesn’t care. Really. He’s a Hyperion scumbag, after all, right? Yeah, she can’t even convince herself.

Hidden Away [tumblr] [ao3] - a rewrite of the ‘flower scene’ from Episode 3; Rhys confesses his feelings about Fiona to Sasha

After the Dust Has Settled [tumblr] [ao3] - post-game speculation; if Rhys and Fiona hadn’t vanished with the Vault, would they have acted on their feelings?

The Daring Truth [tumblr] [ao3] - post-game; the gang plays truth or dare and gets more than they bargained for...

Still [tumblr] [ao3] - post-game; Rhys struggles with the side-effects of destroying Jack’s AI

Second’s Not The Same [tumblr] [ao3] - post-game; Rhys and Fiona meet up in a bar years after they part ways and Fiona isn’t expecting her feelings to still be as strong as they were back then; INFIDELITY WARNING

The Sound of Silence [tumblr] [ao3] - post-game; AU; Siren!Rhys - the gifts of a Vault aren’t always expected. Or appreciated. SUICIDE WARNING

I think that’s everything big so far, but I’ve also posted little things that you’ll be able to find if you go through this tag > ‘borderlands drabbles.’ Also, I’ve collected all of these into one fic on Ao3 called Calypso Craze. Each chapter has its own warnings, etc.

Enjoy, everyone!

#borderlands fanfiction #my writing #the calypso twins #calypsomancer #troy calypso x reader #troy calypso x gaige #troy calypso #tyreen calypso #rhys/fiona #rhyiona

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