#accidentally makes characters that are traumatized similarly to me

[tokimaeki]

Making a post about Sasha and Milla's respective traumas and how they handle them, bc I'm obsessed with the way they foil one another. Read below for my takes:

SO. In Sasha's Shooting Gallery, Sasha's mindscape is a big, mechanical cube. It's sleek. It's clean. It's perfectly controlled, just like Sasha himself.

Then Raz starts messing with the lever, and things start going wrong very quickly. It only takes one mistake for Sasha's childhood traumas to come bursting out of the cube in a way that is far less organized than his mindscape would like to have you think. What's more, these childhood traumas aren't exactly well-organized. Each side is haphazardly cluttered, as if the memories were just shoved inside the cube with no thought given how well they'd fit.

It's sort of like how, when cleaning my room as a kid, I'd just shove all my stuff into the closet and shut the door before it could all tumble out. Sure, the room looks great now-- but once I mess up and accidentally open that door, it's going to take a lot of work to get things back to normal.

And the same thing happens in Sasha's mind. Once one repressed trauma bursts out, it doesn't take long for another to follow suit. And another. And another. Raz can't stop them from coming out, and by the time he's managed to deal with one side of the cube, another one has already popped open. And of course, this all culminates in a giant Censor coming out to promptly beat the tar out of Sasha. It takes a lot of time, effort, and pain to get Sasha's mind back in order.

Meanwhile, Milla's mind is, for the entirety of her stage, perfectly stable-- despite her tragic backstory of her orphanage burning down in a fire, the psychic screams of the children in her care echoing in her mind. Why is that? Well, it's because Milla's traumatic memories and other painful emotions are safely sequestered off the beaten path, in that little locked room of fire and brimstone.

At first, I thought this was another case of a character dealing with their trauma in an unhealthy way. I mean, she's literally locking away her negative thoughts! That can't possibly be healthy, right?

But then it hit me. While Milla has put her thoughts in a part of her mind that's difficult to access, they're not really 'locked away.' in fact, you can access them pretty easily, as long as you know what you're doing and what steps you have to take. And once you do get there, the nightmares can't hurt you. They're scary to confront, sure. It's heartbreaking and distressing to hear the children's screams for help. But nothing in that room physically harms you.

And that's the beauty of Milla's mind. Similarly to Sasha, she successfully copes with her trauma by compartmentalizing it, putting it in a spot where it can't hurt herself or others. But unlike Sasha, Milla's pain is accessible. It's easily reachable, but near impossible to stumble into accidentally. And most importantly, it isn't going to come bursting out and causing mayhem if you make a mistake somewhere.

I love the way these two's minds foil one another. It's such a good example of unhealthy repression VS healthy compartmentalization.

#psychonauts #psychonauts spoilers #sasha nein #milla vodello

[thisfairytalegonebad]

Touch Aversion - Whumptober day 17

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Character: Prompto Argentum Rating: Teen and up Warnings: Brief description of non-consensual touching (non-sexual)

Read below the cut or on AO3 here.

They’re all various levels of physically affectionate.

Gladio likes pounding people on the shoulder and giving bear hugs, and if someone is talking to him they’re likely to experience some form of physical contact at least once during the conversation.

Noct is a bit like a cat. He won’t be very touchy-feely most of the time unless he gets sleepy, in which case he can get a little clingy.

Ignis gives affection freely but is not very fond of receiving it, unless you’re one of very few select individuals.

Prompto, however, is easily the one with the least boundaries when it comes to physical contact. He’ll throw himself bodily at Gladio with post-fight-euphoria, he’ll get into Ignis’ space when he’s in the passenger seat and wants to look at something outside on the driver’s side, and he’ll slap Noct on the ass whenever he least expects it. He likes to throw his arms around people and he routinely falls asleep on someone’s shoulder during movie night.

That’s why it’s such a surprise when he physically recoils when Gladio reaches out to inspect a cut on his left cheek, a leftover from his days spent in Ardyn’s custody.

Prompto looks just as perplexed as they feel.

“Sorry, I- sorry!” he stammers, wide-eyed.

Gladio hesitates but reaches for the cut again, and this time Prompto doesn’t flinch, but he holds himself stiffly and looks ready to bolt.

“Got any other injuries?” Gladio asks, but Prompto quickly shakes his head.

“Nope, all good.”

His smile is somewhat forced, but he did just go through something traumatic, so it’s not exactly surprising, and they forget about it quickly enough with all the other stuff they've got going on.

As they make their way through Zegnautus Keep, Prompto attaches himself to Ignis again, the way he did after they left Altissia. He reaches for Ignis’ hand and tucks it under his arm, and Ignis, admittedly exhausted, is reluctantly grateful for it.

They run into a bunch of daemons, and once the fight is over, Ignis reflexively goes to grab Prompto’s arm for guidance again, but Prompto flinches and whirls around.

“Shit, Iggy, I didn’t mean-” he immediately apologises, and it’s only when Ignis hears the crystalline sound of something being put in the Armiger that he realises he most likely just got a gun pulled on him.

Furrowing his brow in concern, he asks, “Prompto, are you feeling alright?”

“Fine!” Prompto says immediately, sounding anything but. “Just, this place gives me the creeps, y’know? Makes me jumpy, can’t wait to get out of here!”

“That makes two of us,” Ignis agrees, accepting that he’s not going to get anything else out of Prompto.

“Four of us,” Gladio corrects. “Let’s go, sooner we can get out of this place the better.”

No one’s really in the mood for their usual banter, they’re all on edge and any words that are spoken are tinted with various levels of fear and nerves.

Something’s clearly off about Prompto and they’ve all realised it, even before he leaps halfway across the narrow walkway when Noct accidentally brushes their shoulders together.

Any attempt to ask about it is immediately deflected, though, and they simply don’t have the time to stop and figure it out.

And then everything goes sideways all of a sudden when Ardyn shows up. They engage him with everything they’ve got - Prompto immediately puts a bullet between his eyebrows, but it’s like it doesn’t even register, and he reacts similarly to their other attempts to get rid of him once and for all.

Surprisingly, all of them make it out alive, though less due to skill and more due to the fact that Ardyn is simply toying with them. The only reason why they’re alive is because he decided to let them live.

Noct is… gone. Not dead, thank the gods, but inside the crystal, and after trying to get him out for a long, long time, they’re forced to leave him behind.

“We’ll come back for him,” Gladio swears, near tears. His hands are bleeding from his attempts to break the crystal, but he’s refusing a potion.

Ignis nods mutely, stumbling along as they search for an exit. He yelled himself hoarse and hasn’t said a word since, and he’s moving as if in a trance.

Prompto brings up the rear, full of adrenaline and so high-strung that he’s shaking. If he were to shoot anything, he’d most likely miss by a mile, but he cannot bring himself to dismiss his gun or even just lower it.

Ironically, they don’t encounter a single daemon on their way out. Ardyn’s doing, no doubt.

“I can call us a ride,” Prompto says breathlessly when they’re finally outside and at a loss for how to proceed.

“A ride?” Ignis echoes, speaking again for the first time. His voice is hoarse and he doesn’t even look remotely put together.

“Yeah, lemme just…” Prompto rails off and walks a few steps away from them for some semblance of privacy as he calls Aranea.

He’s not a fan of having to ask her for a favour so soon after she saved his ass, but unless they magically find a mechanic somewhere to fix their car, they’ve got no other option.

It’s not all that much later that her dropship appears above them, the noise putting both Ignis and Gladio on guard immediately.

“It’s just Aranea,” Prompto reassures them quickly.

As if on cue, she jumps off the descending dropship and lands directly in front of him.

“Hey, shortcake,” she says cheerfully, clasping him on the shoulder in a friendly gesture.

Prompto flinches and takes a step back, but the reaction is nowhere near as extreme as it was earlier.

“Hey, Aranea,” he says, pretending he doesn’t see the way too perceptive look she gives him. “Thank you for picking us up.”

“No problem, I was in the area,” she replies airily then looks around before her questioning gaze lands back on him. “Where’s Pretty Boy?”

The slight smile Aranea’s presence put on Prompto’s lips falls immediately.

“Uh. Long story. I’ll tell you on the way,” he promises.

“Sure, but first you boys get some rest. No offense, but you all look like shit.”

No one can really argue with that.

----

Despite their exhaustion, rest does not come easily.

Aranea let them get settled in the back area of the dropship. There are two cots that Gladio immediately insisted Prompto and Ignis take, getting down on the floor himself before Ignis tells him not to be ridiculous and share with him instead.

Realistically, the cot is too small for both of them, but they’re making it work with a complete lack of regard for personal space. It doesn’t seem to bother them, either, if anything they seem reassured by the physical contact.

It leaves Prompto alone on his cot, which suits him just fine. The idea of sharing with either of the other two makes his skin crawl.

As if he had read his thoughts, Gladio suddenly asks, “Hey, what was up with you back there?”

Prompto stays silent for a beat too long before he replies, entirely unconvincingly, “What? Nothing!”

“You flinch every time we touch you,” Ignis points out.

“With Aranea too, but only a little. Don’t think I didn’t see that,” Gladio adds.

To that, Prompto has nothing good to say.

“I’m fine, just, y’know. Tired, hated that place. Made me feel jumpy. Don’t tell me you liked it there,” he attempts anyway. He’s aiming for a light-hearted tone, but instead, it just sounds pathetic.

“Prompto,” Ignis says seriously. “What did Ardyn do to you?”

The question, while not unexpected, leaves Prompto speechless.

Nothing. Everything.

Still, he forces himself to say, “Nothing. He didn’t do anything.”

“Prompto.” Gladio’s voice is more gentle than Prompto’s ever heard, and for some reason, it drives tears to his eyes.

“It’s the truth, he didn’t… didn’t do anything,” he sniffs quietly. “Just. He was being creepy. Touched me, sometimes.”

“Not inappropriately!” he adds immediately because both Ignis and Gladio go rigid at that. “He didn’t do anything like that, he’d just come up and touch my face, my hair and stuff and it just… it made me feel really gross is all.”

“But there’s more,” Ignis presses. “Gladio said you didn’t react as badly to Aranea. Why not?”

Prompto presses his lips together in a tight line and stays silent. If it were up to him, he’d just never talk about it again and try to forget it ever happened. But he knows Ignis and Gladio and they’re some of the most stubborn people he knows. They’re not going to let this go.

“Sometimes he did it while looking like you guys,” he says finally, quietly enough that he hopes they didn’t hear over the roaring engines of the dropship. “It kind of really messed with my head and after a while I couldn’t really tell what’s real and what isn’t anymore.”

Gladio explodes in a string of curses and Ignis looks both heartbroken and about two seconds away from a murder.

Guilt stirs in Prompto’s chest, but more than anything, an unexpected burst of anger surges through him. This is why he didn’t want to tell them, and he does not have the emotional capacity to deal with their outrage at the moment, not when he’s barely holding it together himself.

“Look, can we just. Not do this right now?” It comes out pleading and more pathetic than he’d like, but it does seem to have the desired effect.

Gladio cuts himself off to stew in silent anger instead, and Ignis bows his head respectfully.

“Of course,” he says. “But please know that we’re here for you, in whatever way you may need.”

“Yeah, what he said,” Gladio agrees. His voice is gruff, but Prompto knows it’s not from a lack of caring but rather the opposite. It’s clear he’s absolutely pissed, but he’s holding back for Prompto’s sake.

And, it’s stupid, but somehow that makes Prompto feel better than anything.

“Thanks, guys,” he says, wiping the tears from his eyes. Everything is horrible, they’ve lost Noct and Prompto’s losing his marbles, but with them by his side, he thinks, he can get through anything.

----

Read all of my Whumptober prompt fills here.

#whumptober2023 #no.17 #touch aversion #ffxv #final fantasy xv #fic #prompto argentum #thisfairytalegonebad's writing

[todayisafridaynight]

Throwing in fun (not fun) facts to contribute esp bc I was tagged in the essay: (Sorry in advance this is literally my career and special interest AND I just got back from a training conference about this SO obv I am going to talk too much. Disclosure: These statistics are from peer-reviewed sources AND the National Children's Alliance. The NCA IS an American association, though, so take this all with a grain of salt bc we're applying it to someone whose bg is not American lmao. This is an essay for funsies. CW: discussion of and stats about CSA, Child Abuse) Relevant to the Jo stuff is also that victims of one/any kind of abuse are statistically much more likely to subsequently face overlapping abuse, so knowing he comes from a home where abuse and potential neglect was actively occurring sets Jo-boy up for some sad statistics. I am looking for my notes on the stats for that but it's something stupid high, I wanna say over 30 or 40%.

Additionally, 47%~ of CSA victims are revictimized. Abysmal statistic but mostly just an interesting note if this IS the case/if we choose to interpret Jo this way bc of the other things mentioned in Masu's ask, specifically if we're viewing his unhealthy and ultimately traumatic relationship with Ikumi as a potential example of that revictimization (similarly, coming from a like background, it may have been revictimizing for Ikumi if she had ever experienced something like CSA, as well. It's one of those cases where they both got hurt even if neither of them were at fault for "playing house" as Jo calls it).

Seconding/Adding on to Masu's thoughts about Jo's behavior being as self-destructive as it is because of the compounded trauma of his life, victims of adolescent abuse "engage in health-risk behaviors such as substance use, physical fighting, and risky sexual activity," in far higher numbers than non-victims. We know for facts that adolescent Jo checks at least 2 of those 3 boxes, and that he still puts himself in unnecessary danger as a full grown adult (the Heian Tower fight, and Hoshino's Office fight): An interesting and well-written cycle of trauma and abuse on RGGs part, tbh, but also so narratively telling about how he saw/sees/continues to see himself as more an object than a person. (Love your notes on that btw, it rings very true. I could write an essay on that alone tbh.)

Another weird little thing I notice from both a Doyalist AND Watsonian perspective: Jo's disclosure of his father's abuse would classify as what we call an "accidental disclosure" in the field even though it's clearly intentional that he shares it with Ichi - it's offhanded and markedly unimportant in the story he's telling. He says it passively in a literary sense, as well: "The only thing waiting for me at home was my father's fists." Like homie, that's the most roundabout way you could have said "My dad beat me." Interestingly, up to 50% of [specifically CSA] victims do not state outright that abuse occurs, but disclose it accidentally/offhandedly; and in general, accidental disclosure is more common among people who have also delayed disclosure. Up to 66% of admissions from victims of child abuse come delayed if they come at all.

I think it's a very in-character remark of him to make, but statistically, it lines up with other victims of abuse as a whole. I think it's also just cool that from the Doyalist perspective, writing his lines in this way was intentional. It's part of the whole "Everything Jo says sounds like it could mean more than one thing" thing. He speaks poetically - it's intentional not just for the character but for the writer.

Okay, I'm done for now I'm sorry I just wanted to throw some added stuff into the convo bc I love applying my everyday usage of adolescent-focused trauma care and pysch shit to blorbos and seeing what sticks. Anyway, I also have a shit ton of thoughts on Masumi Arakawa as an abuse survivor but THATS another essay I won't dig into now. If I am still in your good graces after this long ass spiel I will consider it not only amazing but perhaps even cool as hell.

[ continuity of this ask ]

#long post #cw csa #its related im keeping it LMAO #snap chats #love the implication that you'd be 'out of my good graces' for sending this LMAO NO YOURE FINE WHY WOULD I BE MAD #i wouldve chewed out masu at this point if that were the case i enjoy readin these #the thing is we just have to accept im very stupid and wont have a lot of commentary. just quiet note taking #and i very much do appreciate posts like these cause its a nice reminder for things im aware of but have become very passive to #like jo's passive exposure of his traumas is something im aware of and because of that i dont focus on it as much as i should #so thank you- to you and masu for writing as extensively as you do #again im just very dumb so i wont have anything else to add on that hasnt been already said #or it wont be anything i can just sit and write in a couple of minutes its something thatd prob take a while to write as in-depth as i want #which is why i feel bad for responding. Not At All with these types of asks LMAO CAUSE EVIDENTLY a lot of effort is done by you guys #and i appreciate it a lot so thank you again for writing in #arakawa as an abuse survivor is something i think of a lot and remembering his abuse as a child shines light on his actions and mentality #so i mean if you wanna share your thoughts on that go ahead ! just know. i prob will Also not have a lot to add on to it LMAO #LIKE THE BEST WAY I CAN INTERPRET MY LINGUISTIC INEPTITUDE IS JUST ME LISTENING my sister tells me i listen really well #and i do enjoy listening. because again im not smart enough to think of things on my own or i dont think its worth sharing some things #so always happy to read whatever you want to share

[dungeonqueering]

I want to play a Chosen One who has already served her purpose and won whatever battle she was meant for, but now she has to deal with the near crippling trauma of having been Chosen at like 14, and having to basically be a child soldier for the forces of good. The weight of everyone's expectations may have been lifted, but she still feels crushed by it. To be 14-16 and to have to KILL your nemesis, who fully plans on killing you?

I want to play a Reluctant Chosen, who now tries to live as quietly as possible. It's been maybe 10-20 years since she did her thing. I want the adventure to entail her maybe coming to terms with her past, and learning healthy coping mechanisms.

I would almost certainly play her as a Fallen Aasimar.

#there is one(1) piece of my own trauma hidden in this post #but hopefully you dont have to guess which one #I'll give you a hint #at 16 years old I did have a traumatic event where I genuinely believed I was going to have to kill someone more than twice my age #in self defense of course #cw trauma #cw child soldier #damnit gwen that wasnt a hint you just said it outright #accidentally makes characters that are traumatized similarly to me #but couches that trauma in other seemingly more significant trauma so I dont actually have to acknowledge that I'm just playing Catharsis

[filthforfriends]

The First Time of Many

Thomas x fem reader

Word count: 5.5k

Based on smut prompt request for Thomas + How does this make you feel? with inspiration from @little-moonbeam-666 (bestie you'll know after you read it)

You and Thomas had always had a harmless amount of flirting within your friendship. You thought he was cute, he thought you were cute, what's wrong with a nice reminder from a bud? Of course cute and attractive were entirely different words and that mutual attraction had made the flirting not so harmless after all. Your romantic feelings towards Thomas had waxed and waned, so you’d expected the same, but this time those feelings stuck around. What was thrilling is watching his feelings grow for you. Never had perfect timing existed in your life. Unfortunately, not even now.

Your last boyfriend had been a piece of shit that left you somewhat traumatized. It seemed that you were perpetually getting over him, like a wound that turns to a keloid. All the good memories had dried up and you were left with this ugly scar. So you weren’t getting over your ex, you were mending the pieces he broke inside of you.

If anything had helped your trust issues, it was Thomas’ friendship. He showed you there was still faith to be had on his side of the population. The world kept turning, and your life resumed, but some things were forever changed, including how you viewed Thomas. It was like having blinders taken off, and in your periphery lay the evidence of his character. Somehow you’d missed the incredible man he’d become, but not anymore. He was the brightest light, and you were struggling not to fall in love with him a little bit.

You’d only discovered that his feelings had developed similarly a couple weeks ago. When you both turned to kiss the other and nearly ended up concussed. It so happened that the two of you had been trying to gather the courage, had been hyped by their friends, had justified this in their head over and over. In a life without shitty ex boyfriends you’d have torn his clothes off that night. But in this life, you were taking things at a glacial pace.

This wasn’t to say you hadn’t made out viciously with heavy petting. You’d also cuddle up with limbs so intertwined where Thomas ended and you began was lost under the blanket. Physicality with him was healing. He would of course, despite his best efforts, get completely hard from your vicinity, which you really didn’t mind. At first he’d turn crimson, but now you laughed it off together.

“Just ignore me, I don’t want you to feel rushed. I can wait,” he assured.

“I know you respect me babe, but I worry that being ignored so much is going to cause permanent damage. Do you need to go to the bathroom for a few?” He’d growl in embarrassment, and maybe a bit of sexual frustration.

“No, I’m fine. Just watch the movie.”

“With the spear digging into my lower back?”

“Sorry!”

“Just adjust yourself. We both know you have a dick, this is silly,” you’d giggle. “Tommy -” You felt his cock jump against your back. “Christ, really?”

“Ughh ahhh,” he’d wail in mortification. “It’s just the nickname, I don’t know why!” You flipped over to tease him some more. Tilting your head close to his ear, you used a breathy, whiny voice.

“Tommy, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy.” You were grinning like the Cheshire cat. He groaned and flipped onto his back.

“No,” he whined, screwing his eyes closed, trying to focus on something that didn’t arouse him.

“This is all very flattering y’know?” His scowl turned into a smile. You slide a hand onto his chest, under his button up shirt. The skin to skin contact makes his breath hitch. Rubbing up and down his chest, you search for his nipple, enthralled with eliciting reactions from him. Your index finger and thumb pinch the bud, then twist it back and forth. He accidentally lets out a moan, and you hum in appreciation. Taking a step further, you pull his nipple slightly as you twist it and at that point Thomas’ back is arching off the couch and a desperate whine rips from the back of his throat

“Are you really about to cream your pants right now?” you marvel. Thomas batts your hand away, grimacing again.

“I like you too much, it's not fair,” he grumbles.

“Well I like you too much too,” you whisper, punctuating with your tongue in his ear. Finding out exactly what Thomas preferred this way was some of the most fun you’d ever had. You could see the hardened nipple through the shirt and flicked it. His entire body tensed for a moment.

“Did you just cream your pants like a teenager?”

“No,” he chuckled. “I’m not far off though.”

“Good, because that would be really embarrassing. Ah!” you screeched as Thomas tickled you. He moved so he was kneeling over you, grinning deviously. When you raised your arms to defend yourself against his nimble fingers, he tickled your underarms and you shrieked. Trying to knock him off while you cackled, you bucked your hips, but he just fell forward. One arm held him up on the couch, the other resumed poking at your sides. It was the closest to a sexual position the two of you had ever been, but there was no fear reaction. Internally you were having a celebration that a man was holding himself over you and all you felt was happiness. That's what Thomas made you feel: joyful.

“You think I’m embarrassing?” he taunted fondly. “You look ridiculous,” and you probably did. Your chin tucked so he couldn’t tickle your neck, arms glued to your sides. At that point you could barely breathe through the laughter.

“Okay stop! Sto-” Before you could finish the word Thomas’ touch was gone. “What are you doing?” you giggled. His hands were held like the air like he’d been caught stealing.

“You said stop.” There's a brief sinking sensation at the reminder. Quickly, it was covered by the realization of how intensely Thomas prioritizes consent. You’d never had a man respect your body enough to rip his hands away after one syllable. Thomas was watching you closely, sat back on his heels.

Fiery arousal rips through you from cunt to throat. You’re more attracted to Thomas right now then you’ve maybe ever been. The feeling is momentarly off putting, before your mind catches up. How else will Thomas treat your body well? Whats sex like when you’re this respected? How will his intense empathy and attraction compute into love making? The intense hunger in your eyes may look like anger, so you sit up before he can overthink things.

“C’mere,” you coax, while curling your finger in a come hither motion. He sort of scoots towards you, unsure of how to arrange his body. To make things clear, you lay your head on the pillow propped against the arm of the couch, and spread your legs so he can lay between them. You kick the blanket on the floor and turn back towards him with a questioning gaze.

“Tommy.” That unfreezes him and he surges forward. He’s still oh so careful, not wanting to make the assumption that you’re comfortable with such an intimate position.

“I’m not going to break,” you complain, pulling him on top of you with his shirt. At first you take all his weight, before he gets his bearings and puts together a cognizant thought. Upon finally recognizing your enthusiasm, he kisses you with all the pent up passion you’d been hoping to feel. At first it's frantic, like he’s starving, but when he gets situated between your legs it slows way down.

This was the best way to spend an evening: low light, Thomas on top of you, apartment to yourselves. Your mouth fell open, feeling the kiss with your whole body. You undulated your torso subconsciously, your body looking for friction. Thomas moaned into the kiss with no reserve, a tentative hand coming to massage your thigh. His erection may not have been pressed against you, but you could still feel next to your leg. His hand gripped your thigh roughly, which you weren’t expecting. You mewled into the kiss, nodding so he knew not to treat you like glass. With his tongue in your mouth, he grabbed rougher still, pulling the leg into a bent position. Taking initiative, you wrapped your legs around his waist like your were fucking. That realigned things so his hard on was pressed against your cunt. Thomas' body responded to your legs repositioning, hips stuttering against you without his permission. He cringed and pulled away.

“I’m so -”

“Shh, it's okay.” You put a hand to his cheek and guided his face back down. Trying to reassure him that it was okay, you squeezed your legs where they rested. That only elicited another bout of uncontrollable thrusting. Thomas was grimacing so much that you stopped everything.

“This is supposed to be fun.”

“This is fun,” he insists.

“You’re beating yourself up about physiological responses that are out of your control. I’ll tell you if something is wrong. I don’t even care if you cum in your pants right now, just stop thinking and be with me.”

“I’m worried that my belt is going to hurt you.”

“Then take it off, Tommy.” He looks at you like he never thought of such a thing. You watch his hands work. If he didn’t understand how much you were enjoying yourself, you’d have to tell him.

“I love you fingers,” you confess. “How they look, I think about them alot.” It's such a strange thing to say that you’re suddenly very self-conscious, but Thomas is beaming when he throws his belt onto the floor.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he praises, returning to his position. “I’m sorry I can’t be eloquent, my brain doesn’t work around you.” You bite your lip, endeared. Thomas brings his left hand to trace your features. His touch is so soft it makes you shiver in delight. When he gets to your lips, you open your mouth and Thomas puts two fingers on your tongue. You guide them down the back of your throat, focusing on ignoring your gag reflex. Thomas’ mouth falls open as he gazes in awe. Loving the attention, you take his hand out of your mouth entirely, tenderlying kiss the tips of his fingers, and suck everything back in in one go. It's obscene and Thomas makes this broken moaning sound while his hips twitch. You moan around his fingers, in return. You raise your hips to demonstrate that you’re into this too, into exploring each other’s bodies.

You release his hand and he brings it back to supporting his weight. The pressure of Thomas’ groin against yours is eliciting arousal so intense that it aches. All you had to do was take each other’s pants off and you’d both feel so good, feel some relief. The thought gave you a rush that made you break out in a sweat. Why don’t we have sex? Why not? I feel safe. I feel respected. I feel happy. I feel heard. I feel desired. What was missing? I feel sure. In this moment, there was no doubt. But what if the moment passed? Even trying to logic your way through this was brutal because in your absent mindedness, you’d started to rock against Thomas.

Sinking into his kiss, the way he squeezed your upper thigh, it was all too easy. Your panties were so so fucking uncomftorable, your pussy begging to be touched. Those fingers, those fucking fingers. You had had cock shorter. Thomas could keep his pants on and finish you with deep penetration. It was unfair. You let out a whine of frustration, heels pressing into his back.

“What is it, baby?” he cooed. He rubbed his erections against you, experimentally. The whine that ripped from your throat was even more desperate than the last, partially because the button of his jeans was particularly comfortable either. Heavy petting wasn’t enough, hand fulls of his shirt wasn’t enough, his spit in your mouth wasn’t enough. You need more.

“What do you want?” You couldn’t speak. You wanted to grab his hand and shove it in your sweatpants. But was that even enough? It had been however many minutes since you last thought about it and the desire to have sex with Thomas had only increased, not wavered. Not to mention, you were so worked up you wouldn’t need hardly any foreplay. Unsure where to start, you start with yourself. Your hands unbutton your shirt, then pull it off. You almost take off your bra too but look up at Thomas instead.

“Do you want to do it?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, reaching behind your back. You make a point to maintain eye contact as he removes it. Laying flat on your back is not the most flattering angle for your tits, but you try not to think about your body like a series of check boxes to please a partner. He dives down to suck your nipple into his mouth, and your legs fall from his waist. He kisses the breast tissue and leaves a hickey that you’ll admire in the morning. You try to focus on the sensation, but all you can think about is how his hips are besides yours, no longer slotted between. The hand teasing your breast would do so much better between your legs.

He can hear you panting, each wave of arousal is making you sweat and Thomas’ hair is already damp around the edges. He looks up from your chest, tenderly kissing your nipple. You’re trembling from all this unfulfilled desire.

“How’s that feeling?”

“It's good. There’s just something I like more.” You take a deep breath “I need, I need…” he’s looking at you, the absolute focus of all his attention. You let out another whine, chest heaving. This is your first time together, you don’t know how he receives requests. You squeeze your eyes shut, in case his expression is painful to see and steel yourself. “Please, just, please” You grab his hand and shove it downwards, eyes screwed shut. “Just please, please.” You guide his hand into your underwear, hips rolling up to meet it.

Thomas doesn’t tease, he inserts one finger right away. When he feels the ease it moves with, he uses two and  buries them to the last knuckle. You actually shed a couple tears it's so satisfying, so deep. His hand is tilted up at the perfect angle. You don’t even realize that you have a vice grip on his wrist with both hands, keeping him in place. He pistons them in and out breakneck speed and you let out a wail, arching, rolling your hips in time. His thumb searches for your clit and while he doesn’t find it the sensation of the fingers against your vulva is still wonderful.

You’re fucking up into his fingers like a dildo, but more so. He’s warm, real, and so attentive. It's heavenly and you can’t believe you ever questioned this decision. He gets his fingers precisely in time with your hips and something unlocks, you can feel pressure building in your pelvis. You lay back, moaning and crying in pleasure, unabashed. Theres fucking and then theres being touched and this is the later.

“Baby, you can let go of my hand. I promise I’m not going anywhere.”

“I wanna, I -” he finally brushes by your clit and you yelp, kicking the couch because you’re unable to contain the pleasure within the bounds of your body..

“Please tell me what you want.” Thomas is genuinely begging. “God you’re so wet.”

“I wanna cum. I can,” you emphasize. Some men didn’t bother because they didn’t think it was possible.

“Of course you can,” he gushed. “Can you push down your pants so I can see what I’m doing?” Finally you open your eyes, but still don’t have the courage to look at Thomas. Despite the anxiety it evoked, you let go of his wrist, pushing down your pants and underwear, then kicking them off. He repositioned himself so he was sitting between your thighs, with the ideal view. His thumb found your clit so quick, and there wasn’t enough to anchor you. The pressure inside you only heightened and you tried to control it, worried you were going to explode. Not yet, not yet, you chanted in your head.

“Three.” He pressed the third finger inside and you bore down on it with everything you could. The stretch of integrating it into your body was glorious. The sensitive walls of your vagina receive so much stimulation you could barely handle it. You could feel your orgasam building, so close you were almost choking on it.

You looked down at Thomas, giving you his all. And while his thumb rubbing circles on your clit may have driven you towards orgasam, seeing his hand in his pants as he looked between your legs was enough. It was like a wildfire inside you, creeping its way to the surface. That last ounce of stimulation was the gasoline and you could barely maintain control. It was so strong that you couldn’t open your closed eyes, but your hand searched for something to hold.

Thomas sacrificed his own orgasam to ground you, to be there while you convulsed with pleasure. Allowing someone to watch you orgasam hard, could be more intimate than the sex itself. It wasn’t pretty, but it was honest. You weren’t doing anything prefromative for him, in fact you were barely keeping a grasp on reality. When you finally released your white knuckle grip on his hand, the happy chemicals were still buzzing in your veins.

“Thank you,” you sighed, feeling more relaxed than you had in weeks. Although there was still that ball of pressure, throbbing in your groin.

“Any time. Like, any time. I’ll keep my ringer on at night.” You chuckled and he rubbed your thigh assuringly. All was well.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to finish.” You managed enough energy to tilt your head up so you could see his face.

“Oh I did,” he smirked.

“Oh, okay,” you couldn’t hide your disappointment, which wasn’t fair at all. “That's good. I was kinda hoping that you’d want to keep going, but it's okay.”

“Please give me literally 10 minutes.” You laughed, throwing a hand over your face. Despite what you’d like, your body was already responding to the idea of Thomas’ cock with full force.

“Your refractory period is 10 minutes?”

“Right now it is.” You removed your hand to look at him, blusinng from the orgasam as well. “I’m so serious, like I’ll go get you some water. I’ll get a washrag. I’ll literally be right back.” You’re belly laughing at this point.

“You don’t need to entertain me! I’m not about to lose interest in the next 10 minutes.”

“Ah, but that's part of the Thomas Raggi experience!”

“Is that like The Jimi Hendrix Experience but sexier?”

“Exactly!” He sings from the kitchen. “Why don’t you meet me in your bedroom, cara mia.” You get off the couch, barely balancing on your two legs, wobbling to the bedroom while he cleans up in the bathroom.

“Five minute warning! Take your clothes off,” you call, and can hear him cackling while you lounge on the bed. Your tone is confident, but internally you're insecure, debating whether you should even do a round two. It might be fine. He’s probably encountered it before, it's Thomas. On the other hand, it's Thomas, and you really don’t want to scare him away.

He walks into the bedroom with just a towel wrapped around his waist, looking good enough to eat. The towel is up around his waist instead of his hips. You can see that he’s totally erect underneath and all that unreleased desire throbs inside of you. His gaze is fixed between his legs. He wets his lips and you surely will not survive what he can do with both hands and a mouth.

“I’m gonna get a towel” you blurt, and scurry to the bathroom. You pee, splash cold water on your face, hoping it’ll relieve some of the pressure. It doesn’t work so you grab one of the thick, oversized towels kept on the top shelf exclusively for this purpose. Unfolding it as you walk into the room, Thomas’ eyes go wide, but he doesn’t say anything as you place it on the bed.

Proactively, you walk towards him, and sink to your knees. His hand seeks support from the bed before you’ve even dropped the towel. He’s at half mast after waiting for you, so you’re happy to put a little work in. However, little becomes the operative word. Less than a minute of the most devoted blow job you’ve given in your life, he stops you. You pause with him ¾ of the way down your throat, giving your best doe eyes.

“Woah michetta, michetta.” he takes a step back so his cock falls from your mouth. You don’t wipe away the trail of spit, instead staring at him from your knees.

“Holy shit,” he pants. “I’m hard, baby girl. Christ you're good with your mouth.” You can’t help but smile at the praise while Thomas sweats. He looks at you with so much adoration, stroking your cheeks with the back of his finger. He threads his hand up the base of your skull, massaging your scalp. When he reaches the top of your head, Thomas grabs a fistful of hair and gently pulls. Your lips part, so he pulls a bit harder and the moan you let out is sub-human. You’re so relaxed and aroused that you rest your head on his thigh. The musk of his groin is barely perceptible, but you enjoy it just the same.

“Baby, get on the bed,” he coos. All previous thought processes spontaneously disappear. He helps you up and before you’re even situated you’re grabbing at Thomas, pulling him on top of you clumsily. Your pussy is just raw heat, throbbing. You need him so desperately it feels like you’re anxious, like there’s a weight in your chest and you can’t breathe. Luckily, the question of a condom was mute, you’d both prepared for this.

“I should warm you up.” He was resting between your legs, the velvety head of his cock against your vulva.

“I’m plenty warm, you’ve already fingered me.” You tilted your hips so the tip was lined up with your vagina. His eyes fluttered, feeling it too.

“That was a while ago. You sure?” he whined, trying to retain some level of control. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and squeezed.

“Yes, I am fucking sure!” He made noise like he was being hurt and enjoyed it as he pushed in. A whimper with half formed words underneath. There were lines on his forehead and his upper body trembled. He was going slow, to make sure he wasn’t about to hit your cervix, but you reveled in the feeling of your walls parting to allow him in. You leaned up so your lips were by his ear.

“Do you feel how much my body wants you?” At that moment, the stretch kicks in and your heels are digging into his back while you groan. When he finally bottoms there is less than an ounce of composure between you. You can feel the skin of his abdomen moisten with sweat against your own. He lowers himself to his elbows and kisses you, but you don’t want kisses.

“Thomas, if you hold back right now, I will never fucking forgive you.” You feel him still completely, hear him swallow hard. The lines of musculature in his arms are visible as he flexes, before pulling out and slamming back in with so much intensity it moves you up the bed. You yelp, back arching, baring down on his cock. The ferocity of his thrusts leaves you calling out his praises, so the sound of your pleasure is discernible from pain.

“Yes! Thomas, yes! Ugh!”

“Louder,” he growls. He wants you to scream? Oh, you can scream.

“Uhh! Tommy, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy -”

“Shh!” He kisses you to shut you up, chucking at your enthusiasm. “Too loud!”

“Oops,” you snicker, nipping at his lip.

“Lucky I’m a musician, so you shouldn’t make much of a difference in my hearing loss.” You blush a bit, biting your gums self consciously. “Oh don’t get shy on me now,” he encourages. Thomas punctuates with a new pattern of thrusting, just a deep, but quicker and sustainable. It allows you to raise your hips to meet him at each pass. The first jolt of stimulation is incredible, and you assume it’s just one of those random collisions at a perfect angle, but it stays as intense.

Considering how easily he came earlier, you didn’t expect this level of stamina from Thomas. He's been pistoning into you cunt to the point that your eyes are rolling back into your head. He starts to grind down everytime your hips meet and you do the same in return. The fiction against your clit invokes the floaty feeling of an orgasam creeping up on you. The more prominent feeling however, is that ball of pressure in your abdomen, from the repeated stimulation of your g-spot.

In fact, that feeling has your head tossing back and forth with your eyes squeezed shut. Your hands aren’t even able to grasp Thomas anymore and fall from his biceps. The whines and moans you’ve been making throughout distort, higher pitched and more desperate. Your hips start to stutter as he did earlier, and while you’re on the edge of something, it's not orgasam, it's deeper, more primal. Normally you’d cover multiple positions, but you were so sexually pent up that, perhaps pathetically, missionary was enough.

He can see you on the cusp, and struggling. Thomas sits back and puts your legs over his shoulders. Before you can tell him that there's no way my body can do this, he leans forward and the muscles feel warm and comfortable in the stretch. You were putty under him, body craving to conform to whatever he asked.

The most intense climaxes come from the same kind of good stimulation over and over. You thought that this change in position would give you a chance to catch your breath, but it was the opposite. Thomas’ was thrusting at a harsh angle, so his cock was pressed up against the frontal wall, where your g-spot lay. This was the exact kind of friction that made your squirt. The surface of his pubic hair still brushed against your clit. So much sensation you didn’t have room to breathe.

Your insecurity was telling you to stop now, but absolutely every other fiber of your being compelled you to continue. It felt like the other way to survive was to go through. The pain, difficulty breathing, feeling so tightly wound that you were ready to snap. In all honesty, if Thomas stopped now you might die. The pleasure was that intense.

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded.

“How does this make you feel?” he demanded. Your back arched and a couple tears fell. It was all you could do to whine. “How am I making you feel?” he insisted. It was perverse and so sexy. Tell me what my body is doing to yours.

“I feel like I need to cum,” you tremble.

“I want to help you finish baby,” he cooed.

“Not finish. Cum.” You hated the word using the word squirt, there was so much over-fetishization around it. This was deeply personal and intimate, not something preformative, not even something within your control.

“Babygirl, you’re safe. Let your body do what it wants.” Thomas’ face was so tender as he looked down on you. It was totally disarming that he was giving your pleasure all his attention.

“But sometimes I, I,” you trail off as he makes the angle my dynamic. Each pass the head of his cock rakes against a spot so perfect you tear up.

“It's okay. You can cum on me,” he purred. On. It was like a valve had turned inside you, behind which there was a wall of untapped desire. It all came rushing forth, and by the brain had caught up you were also ejaculating. It was messy, you were still rolling your hips in a desperate attempt for continued friction. Your release splashed onto your parted thighs and Thomas too, but somehow he didn’t falter. It was the ultimate surrender to sensation, but still your body wasn’t at ease. His attention to your clit had started the perpetual energy of orgasam. Now, so close, you felt like a live wire. Somehow, squirting had rendered you more receptive, and it took only a couple more passes against your clit to reach climax.

You fell back into darkness, almost losing consciousness for a moment. Your muscles were cramping viciously and you called out Thomas’ name like a prayer, or at least tried to. The discomfort turned to bout after bout of shining bliss. It was endlessly satiating and you wondered how long you’d needed to feel this. Luckily, you landed in your own body just in time to support Thomas through his own, hard earned, well deserved climax.

He collapsed on top of you, and instead of letting him struggle to support his weight mid-orgasam, you wrapped your arms around him. It was such a beautiful way to experience your partner cumming, embracing them with your whole body. Your legs were still wrapped around his waist too. You used the limited range of motion available to draw this moment out for him with little thrusts. He was hot and throbbing, too wracked with pleasure to support himself so you happily did it for him.

“You’re safe too,” you whispered. Each moan seemed to physically shake him. He was quivering from the intensity. You rocked back and forth to soothe, allowing him to cum and cum inside you. Receiving him was cathartic. It was a holistic experience: feeling his body shake, each contraction of abdomen, each twitch of cock, each rope of semen. You wished you could crawl into his brain to find out everything he liked in this moment, and give it all to him.

As Thomas came down, you could feel where the rush of fluid had moistened legs. Thomas likely had your ejacuate running towards his ankles, and his own semen was dripping out of your pussy. It was gross and absolutely perfect. You were covered in his sweat, but the presence of his pheromones made you feel complete rather than disgusted. Carnal satisfaction was echoing in your groin. The full body relaxation from squirting eclipses all other sensations.

“I can’t do that in front of most people,” you marveled.

“Really?” He lifted his head, shifting his weight so he could lay next to you. “How long since you’ve been able to let go like that?”

“I -  months, definitely.” You’re trying to internalize every detail of his face, the way his eyes blink lazily. This is indisputably some of the best sex you’ve had.

“You said ‘on.’ How did you know?”

“I guess, it seemed like there was something you were holding back.” You nodded, moving the sweaty hair from his face. “I don’t know, I just really wanted you to relax and let your body do what it needed to. You put the towel down, so…”

“You know, that was just a safety precaution,” you confessed. “I thought I could control it and hold back.”

“Why the fuck would you do that?” He looked at you like it was ludicrous to deny yourself such a thing.

“Well, because” you splutter. “I didn’t want to scare you away, and some guys think it's gross and -” you sighed. “And it’s supposed to be like a tablespoon of cum, but I tend to be kind of a super soaker.” He bursts out laughing, hands on his stomach, eyes scrunched closed. With the ample rush of happy chemicals you start laughing too, hiding your face in his neck.

“Super soaker?” he snorts. “You’re not a squirt gun.” Still high on endorphins, you dissolve into giggles again at his word choice.

“Are you sure?” Thomas sits up and looks at the place your legs are intertwined.

“Holy…wow. What did that feel like?” There's no doubt the towel is soaked, but he’s taking the whole thing very well.

“It's like an orgasam, but more relaxing than pleasurable. It's also kind of animalistic, like total release.” He’s listening genuinely so intently, instead of filing all this away in his ego’s spank bank. “If I’m in the right headspace, I can feel like a feminine sex goddess.”

“How do I get you in that headspace?” Thomas responds so quickly he's almost interrupting you.

“I - I” am unaccustomed to anyone giving a fuck. “It’s something I have to do, not let myself get insecure.” His hand rubs your abdomen in a way that probably only feels sensual due to your level of attraction.

“But I can help, right?” Whenever he dips below your belly button, your train of thought is broken. Putting together a coherent sentence is taking much longer than it should.

“I mean, I kind of always feel confident with you.”

“That makes me so fucking happy.”

Notes: More Thomas is in the works! Again this is not poetic, but I think its pretty decent smut content. Just for funzees I tried to tune the eroticism so that your average vanilla Joe would enjoy it enough to be corrupted. Lemme know how that turned out. Also yes, I'm getting that pic of Thomas tattooed on both my ass cheeks thanks for asking.

Masterlist

@gr8rainbowpunk @homesicam @hiraetheral @l0standn0tf0und @iosonoarina @teenyweenynightghost @elvirabelle @8iunie @immrbrightsideeee @idyllicbutterfly @ilwiwbysmv @superchrystaldrug @girlnred @maneskinyakaar @thewitchinthemountain @theimpossiblehologramtree @maneslut (love the username) @iamtashaquinn @asianhawkeye @butkutee @weareoddlydrawn @blackberryblossom

#maneskin #måneskin #thomas raggi #thomas maneskin #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin imagine #maneskin smut #maneskin x reader #maneskin x you #thomas raggi fanfiction #thomas raggi imagine #Thomas Raggi x you #Thomas Raggi x reader #Thomas Raggi x y/n #maneskin x y/n #Thomas raggi smut #smut #friends to lovers #them noisy kids

[sidekickjoey]

Encanto/Rapunzel’s Tangled Adventure (and Tangled)  Parallels:

I’ve been noticing some things with these movies/shows that match up and it explains a heck of a lot about why I’ve fallen head over heels with Encanto as of late. This isn’t even close to the full list. Enjoy:

The candle’s magic exploding out from its source / the explosion caused by Rapunzel’s first touch of the rocks 

(We can really just say candle = sundrop/moonstone at this point)

Mirabel being extra kind to Antonio because she knows the pressure and fear of getting your gift firsthand / Eugene & Lance being extra kind to Red & Angry because they know how it feels to be an orphan firsthand

Mirabel seeing Casita being destroyed by cracks / Rapunzel seeing the rocks destroying Corona 

Mirabel and Rapunzel both being a part of prophecies that may or may not result in their homes (and lives) being taken away

Gather all the pieces of Bruno’s vision / Lord Demanitus’ map to see what to do

Eugene & Pedro sacrificing themselves for those they care about to have a chance to live 

Julieta’s food healing / Rapunzel’s hair healing

Waiting On A Miracle / Waiting in The Wings 

What Else Can I Do? / Set Yourself Free or The View From Up Here

Too protective, traumatized parent accidentally hurts kids because of that need to protect/fear (Abuela/Frederic)

Weird and misunderstood father (Edmund)/uncle (Bruno) figure thought to be dead or gone randomly appearing and stealing everyone’s hearts as an awkward, lovable goof while absolutely needing a hug 

Similarly: weird father figure who has a relationship with crows / weird uncle figure who has a relationship with rats

Family issues getting worked out once people finally stop being too stubborn to face them head-on 

The Madrigals being seen as the perfect magical family despite having a ton of issues / Rapunzel being seen as having her happily ever after despite having a ton of issues to still resolve

Varian being seen as a villain and outcast despite being a scared kid who wanted to save his father & make him proud / Bruno being seen as a villain and outcast despite being a scared guy who wanted to save his niece & make his family proud 

Varian & Bruno both panicking/blaming themselves when they notice their talents leading to bad outcomes

Lord Demanitus’ tree / Bruno’s room & vision cave looking like an abandoned & scary fortress 

Evil!Bruno as portrayed by Camilo / Hector (it’s the green eyes for me)

Mirabel cutting her hand right before a significant plot point / Eugene cutting his hand right before a significant plot point

Abuela/Gothel doing absolutely anything to protect the magic from going away

Isabela & Mirabel growing closer once the pressure to be perfect is off Isabela’s shoulders / Cass & Rapunzel growing closer once the pressure to be perfect is off Cass’ shoulders

Bruno & Rapunzel turning to art when trapped in the walls/tower

Person with slightly ulterior motives helping seemingly trapped person leave their bad situations (Mirabel/Eugene)

Magic returning in the end despite appearing to have disappeared 

Failed proposals (F in the chat for Mariano) 

Honorable Mentions:

Butterflies??? RTA never added significance to them but those things were ALL over season 3 & was basically the main character in Encanto

“How do you help a family miracle? You hug a sister!” Hard pan to Cass & Rapunzel

Attila 🤝Jorge (yes I mean the bucket helmet look)

Good hair, let’s be real

#encanto #rapunzel's tangled adventure #encanto spoilers #tangled the series #rapunzel #tangled #disney

[kaypeace21]

The theme with “time” this season makes me think of the phrase, “wanting to turn back the clock.” And I then think of Will never wanting to grow up and wanting to go back to the old days of playing dnd in Mike’s basement.

And then I think of Will’s (speculated) reality altering bending powers. So could there be a possibility that Will may use those powers to “turn back the clock”?? Maybe rewrite how things happened? Maybe it would be after Mike’s “death” like you speculated earlier. Since he thinks Mike is “dead” he wants to go back, and that’s what he does accidentally.

ALSO, Hopper tells joyce that he was trying to runaway from his "past" trauma with sara- before he says that line in the letter about wanting to turn back the clock and then saying it's not possible to do so . (And that life life hurts you but eventually you get out of that cave and life goes on ). Similar to Will he wants to turn back the clock to better times, but a part of him isn't ready to accept his entire past/ the tra*uma that comes with that- in order to move on and heal for the future .

Like robin said about back to the future "he's stuck in the past .But he needs to get back to his time which is the future!"

HOWEVER- I DON’T THINK THERE’S ANY REAL TIME TRAVEL!!!!

I’ve mentioned  my time-theory many many many times- in relation to my DID theory.  even if my did theory is completely wrong (aka Will has powers so his alters/split personalities/innerworlds come to life)- 

We also see how memories are explored in a supernatural way in st - it’s not literal timetravel just El using her powers to explore tra*matic memories of others (Terry/Billy so far). Like NO TIME TRAVEL PLEASE-THAT’S JUMPING THE SHARK. I really don’t want it lol. XD I think hopper and Robin's lines allude to the theme that will be addressed: confronting the past/times that harmed you but overcoming it for the future because time goes on 'whether you like it or not '.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

In reference to my time-did theory. Look at the st s4 movie inspirations. In ‘what dreams may come”  a guy explores a heaven like world influenced by a painter’s emotions/created via immagination.We also have the movie ‘inside out’ -which involves “memory islands” (distinct worlds based on a child’s memories) which are influenced negatively by the kid being depressed she moved to California. The characters traveling to these memory islands are constructs of  kid’s mind -and 1 of them also has a guide helping them explore the ‘memory islands’.  Welcome to marwen- has an artist (attacked for being perceived as gay) imagining an abstract world based off his art- where the characters he made experience their own adventures (loosely based off the artist’s trauma). ‘The cell ‘ has characters explore the mind of a guy whose father ab*sed him- and the different alternative fantasy-worlds they explore are based off his memories. The cop exploring these memory-worlds, was also implied to be se*ually ab*sed by his dad . Also,in  Inception a guy says he’s a construct of a guy’s mind ( the guy who created the dream worlds that are like alternate dimensions/levels- also hates his dad). And leo’s character says he needs to help him escape the many different levels of the dream world of the mind. Movies like inception, total recall, the cell, enter the void, wizard of oz, Peter Pan, hellraiser 2, dream warriors, bill & ted’s bogus journey, the labyrinth,and welcome to marwen, all allude to this: because they involve entering simulated abstract worlds usually created/based on happy& traumatic memories/fears. While truman show/matrix are more about realizing your reality isn’t real. While in bladerunner 2044/total recall it has the theme of false implanted memories… probably relating to hopper/el realizing they’re alters of Will’s-and their memories were technically created by him.

Something some DiD suffers have are “innerworlds” .When someone has DID there can be multiple “innerworlds” that are separate from one another (and look very different from one another) .And are usually very abstract worlds that are based on the child’s memories (good &bad) . These worlds are usually created at different times and almost act like alternate dimensions (and the inhabitants -npcs/alters of those worlds usually don’t interact with one another) . So they can almost resemble alternate dimensions like how Scott Clarke mentions “Hugh Everett’s many worlds interpretation.” Russia where Hopper is- is probably one of those innerworlds.

HOPPER THEORY: 

tw:ab*se/r*pe. In s2 Nancy asks Steve how his “grandpa’s time in the war is a metaphor for your life?” And steve compares the mf to the germans in the war. Dr owens mentions Will has ptsd like “ (vietnam) soldiers’, Hopper saying he had buddies like Will . “In the 70s there was a study that compared the post-traumatic stress symptoms in Vietnam veterans and adult survivors of childhood s**ual ab*se. The study revealed that childhood s**ual ab*se is traumatizing and can result in symptoms comparable to symptoms from war-related trauma.” Hopper isn’t actually in Russia -but in one of the innerworlds (after he jumped through the rift of the machine- into Will’s mind). We’ll see flashbacks but also present circumstances of his imprisonment echo Will’s past with Lonnie (if the movies indicate anything)- being starved, guards getting payed in order to let other prisoners  r*pe a gay prisoner (than claim incorrectly because of his sexuality he wanted it) , as well as a gang of sadist men who r**e others and a warden using that as a threat to be compliant , being thrown in a dark room of solitary confinement and starved when they didn’t obey the warden, the warden being religious, etc. And the American soldiers (in Vietnam) in the movies aren’t much better and do similarly horrific acts to civilians like r**e and bragging/ happily k*lling women, children, and the elderly. The drill sergant in vietnam calling them homophobic slurs & women, and chocking one of the soldiers with one hand (like the mf/russian), slapping one for not believing in christianity. Tying up a soldier in a bed , gagging him, beating him and saying “remember it’s just a dream.” Only praising them when good in fire arms.(movies : fullmetal jacket, papillon, shawshank redemption, platoon, welcome to marwen, etc ) . My assumption is flashbacks of his life-  hints about him being an alter -the boxes in the basement are “vietnam” ,“dad”, and “ny” (and these are the memories of his we’ll see).or after escaping the prison he’s stuck in diff innerworlds of memories. And some of the bad characters in said stories will also parallel Lonnie . Like how in  the s4 film ‘peterpan’- the young girl Wendy imagines netherland and the villain -captain hook- is based off her father ( in the movie they have the same voice actors/while in all stage productions the 2 characters are always played by the same actor). Similar to the other s4 film- ‘wizard of oz’ where the wicked witch of the west from the mythical land of Oz (is played by Dorothy’s real life mean neighbor in the real world/kansas).Or in ‘the cell’- all the alternate dimensions of the dream world that were created by a guy with a ab*sive h*mophobic dad -had the same actor play the villain in each very different dream dimension. ”Not sure if they’d use Ross Patridge (actor of Lonnie) in this way . But it would be very interesting if (In makeup) Ross played many negative people in Hopper’s life.  

Also, in  s2, Jonathan mentions Indiana writer Vonnegut- In his book ‘slaughterhouse 5′- Vonnegut begins the story of Billy (William) Pilgrim, a man who has “come unstuck in time”. (time ref of Hopper saying he wants to ‘turn back the clock.’ or’ runaway from his memories.‘It accounts of Billy Pilgrim’s capture and incarceration by the Germans during the last years of World War II (Hopper captured by the russians), and scattered throughout the narrative are episodes from Billy’s life with his dad, and his own wife and kids.Billy is forced to be part of the war and similar things against his free will. The moments start from his childhood when his father throws him in the water to teach him how to swim. He was unwillingly drafted into the war. Later, he is kidnapped by Tralfamadorians  (aliens that are implied to be caused by his mental health issues/trauma) against his will. Therefore, he realizes that this concept is just an illusion.in bladerunner 2044/total recall it has the theme of false implanted memories… probably relating to hopper realizing he’s an alter and his memories are technically ‘created’ . Like in total recall- the bad ass spy is told all his memories: his wife/ years of marriage,  his name, are just implanted memories. And she says “you’re life is a dream.” We also have ‘Arrival’ -the parent’s daughter died young cause of terminal cancer- and the mother later realizes time is also just a abstract construct (a thing she can experience differently than others), but she still finds meaning/happiness in those memories/times.

I also talked about how sarah as an alter could come back and the 2 would explore the “innerworlds” of Will’s mind together (you can read the details there). 

El and Will theory 

I’m thinking of the s4 movies and 1 matrix scene comes to mind that could be an obvious hint to Did (and Will’s importance). Mr smith (the suited calm villain/ who is a literal computer program of the matrix world -cough alter/npc of Will’s) kidnaps/ ties up Morpheus to a chair (like Will in s2), injects him with drugs in the neck ( like s3 steve/ will’s arm in s2).  Then Mr smith says as everyone leaves the room “I’m going to be honest with you. I hate this place, this prison, this reality or what you call it.” (grabs Morpheus’ head and glares) “ I need to get out of here! I need to be free! And this mind is the key.”(referring to morpheus).morpheus also translates to ‘god of dreams’. Also Morpheus was wearing head gear similar to El in s1/Will in s2 . or in 12 monkeys the guy sent to psych ward -starts believing he’s just “crazy” and says “i created a world with those people in it.” “It’s not real .I’m just mentally ill, like you said ” when you know- it is all real,cause of the supernatural angle involved. in 12 monkeys a patient even tells him the fictional world he created would dissappear once his mental health was in order.

Then there’s the El stuff.  Hellraiser 2- has a normal psych hospital, but the basement floor has an evil psychiatrist experimenting on teens to open a portal to another reality. assasains creed/dream warriors -  has the psychiatric facility be similar to the s1 lab with sensory deprivation tanks, cameras, solitary confinement in dark rooms.The doctor experiments on them- and forces a character to go into the memories of another individual (we know El has memory powers).The dr reveals how the character’s reality/whole life isn’t what they think it is (and that the memories they saw with their powers-was their past life and they are that person’s reincarnation) . Aka Will is the host- and El is an alter (alters can see memories of other alters/the host irl-aka billy/terry were also alters ).

In assasain’s creed there’s 2 psychiatrists- one bad / one who is good (but influenced by the bad dr). One dr annoyed at the lack of progress, says about the patient “he doesn’t want to remember his father.” While one dr doesn’t want to rush the therapy/ the other dr wants the patient to go back into his memories regardless of how it affects him. (which could be Brenner & maybe Owens referring to Will’s dissociative-amnesia and not remembering all the ab*se Lonnie did. And Owens not wanting to rush it/hurt el by making her go into said memories …but Brenner not caring.

also other hints : Cough s4 using the movie wizard of oz refs “we’re not in Hawkins (kansas) anymore”-hint at russia. David on instagram posting st stuff and captioning it with and quotes, pretending to be dorothy from the film. Hopper in s1 saying hawkins lab was “emerald city” (referencing El- it’s also why they reference El entering our world in ep 1 and the alice in wonderland song plays) . Murray says about the supernatural “no one wants to see behind the curtain” (what was behind the curtain in wizard of oz-was a wizard aka Will). Or you know right before Will sees the mf for the first time -a clock turns rapidly/ he  has goosbumps at the back of his neck. Which he later grabs/states  are from “memories” he can’t remember that are like a “dream”. 

If i’m right-not sure how much of this may happen in s4 vs s5, though. But I think something like this is possible.  For all we know-Will/El being trapped with Brenner while Hopper escapes ‘russia’ could be how the season ends? The timeline i’m a bit iffy about-tbh.

#stranger things theory #will byers #el hopper #jim hopper #time theory #did theory

[kingbennyboyyy]

benny’s RWBY rewrite: team JNPR

 it’s time for part 2 of my character ramblings, and this time i’ll be focusing on team JNPR! while i’ll be going into individual characterization and themes for these characters, my main goal is to analyze their uses are narrative foils for team RWBY. one of my main critiques of the show as-is is that there’s too many main characters, so i’ve opted to delegate team JNPR to side character status. this is nothing against them, this is purely a structural decision. with the preamble out of the way, let’s get to team JNPR!

jaune arc:

- ah yes, vomit boy. i’ll admit, my personal opinion of jaune isn’t the best: i thought he took up way too much time in the first few volumes of the show, time that should have been spent telling the viewer about the rules and power systems that exist in the world. despite this, i think jaune as a character has the potential to do a lot for the main cast. as a character in his own right, he’s defined by his bold nature, contrasted with his deep emotional concern for the people around him. i think that his issues with cardin can stay (so long as cardin is less of a cartoon bully and more of an actual issue), and i think that somebody else should have issues with cardin: weiss.

- i think that the contrast jaune and weiss have is part of the reason a romance was originally written between the two. they have very stark similarities and differences: both of them care extremely deeply about their family names and expectations, and act somewhat carelessly to keep up appearances. jaune cheating his way into beacon, and weiss’ spoiled princess routine, are both direct results of them taking their expectations very seriously. i think that cardin should be the key to both of these characters thinking more critically about what their family names mean to them. for weiss, it could be cardin expecting weiss to be in on some kind of malicious prank against velvet, or even blake after defending velvet. for jaune, it could be cardin insulting jaune’s living up to his family name, or even (and this is mostly me being dramatic) breaking his family heirloom after insulting its effectiveness as a weapon. dealing with cardin should bring these two characters together despite their initial difficulties in getting along. both of them should have to think critically about what their families represent, and if they even want to live up to those expectations.

nora valkyrie:

- now i like nora a lot. i think she fills in the position of “traumatized happy-go-lucky tank” very well, almost better than yang does. she and yang are a bit too similar for me to feel comfortable pairing them up, though. nora’s later development is what intrigues me most: having grown up with ren for a majority of her life, and having had to keep the trauma of losing her hometown and her family to herself by masking it with overwhelming joy and energy, she holds a lot of conflicting feelings and emotions. as much as she comes to resent it, the role of the ditz that smacks things with a hammer is a role that has its benefits. this masking of true emotions with a wall of a conflicting one is something i’ve described in another character: blake.

- as different as these two characters appear to be, they do have a lot in common. both blake and nora have expressed concerns with being defined by the people they surround themselves with. i am in no way at all trying to say that ren and adam are similar characters or people, but i am saying that they debatably play similar roles for nora and blake. for nora, ren is her rock, the person who keeps her grounded, and the person she’s had to change and mask aspects of herself to appease. adam, although much more abusive and violent, forced blake to do similar things: to mask her emotions, do what was expected of her, and to give and give until all that was left was a tool. for both of these characters, learning to be more authentic without fear of hurting the people around them is key.

pyrrha nikos:

- i fucking love pyrrha. the fact that we only had her for two volumes is a crying shame, because i think that her place in the story is really important. it’s easy to forget that past the fantasy high school backdrop, these are children training to become killing machines, who will almost certainly die in battle. pyrrha has embraced this expectation: she’s one of the most competent fighters in her age group, has essentially a cult following, and has somehow gotten through that being pretty well-adjusted. however, the burden of excellence has made it impossible for her to make decisions for herself, for fear of letting down the people who have placed her on a pedestal. this fear is a pretty stark contrast to another character: ruby.

- ruby and pyrrha should have been much closer in the original story. it would have made her death hit ruby a lot harder, but i also think that these two working together makes total sense. pyrrha is the ideal that ruby is striving for in her huntress training, and the two having a mentoring friendship would be really nice. as much of a good fighter as ruby is, she has room to improve in the leadership department, and learning from pyrrha would be great for her. in addition, she and pyrrha have opposite issues: ruby knows what she wants to be, but not what she has to be, and pyrrha knows what she has to be, but not what she wants to be. where ruby’s naivety and optimism drives her to make decisions based on her personal ideals, pyrrha’s comparative maturity makes these decisions much harder. ruby would not sacrifice herself to become the maiden in the same way pyrrha did. i think that pyrrha’s death should be a lesson for ruby: a lesson in sacrifice. it should remove the rosy tint from her gaze, and show her that being a huntress isn’t just about fighting monsters and saving lives- it’s also about giving up your own.

lie ren:

- finally, it’s ya boy. ren is a really interesting character, especially when contrasted with nora. he and nora went through the same trauma, but he came out the other end much different. ren’s semblance is literally masking emotions, and he’s come to do this extremely well. while he’s more recently exhibited a propensity for exploding, for the most part, he’d much rather sit and broil in his angst and anger than let it be readily seen. similarly to blake and nora, he’s the opposite side of the emotional coin to our final main character: yang.

- these two have very different demeanors: one of them is calm, cool, and collected, opting to simply tolerate things that bother him. the other one is almost exclusively at 11, wearing her emotions on her sleeve at all times. however, these exaggerated displays of emotion both serve the same purpose: to mask their suffering. where ren sits in his emotions, slowly and methodically boiling off feelings that are inconvenient,  yang is the kind of person to pour gasoline over her feelings and throw a match onto the pile. make no mistake, these two characters are 100% prone to lashing out, and both of them often lack the ability to see how their explosions harm the people around them. ren and yang, at the beginning, shouldn’t get along. ren should see yang’s emotional nature as a distraction from more important matters, and yang should see ren as a doormat, perfectly willing to be walked all over. however, something should unite them (their loved ones being endangered, perhaps), and allow them to see how similar they are. maybe they’re surrounded by grimm, yang’s semblance has accidentally activated, and her holding onto ren is burning him. ren and yang talk about emotions, how deeply they both feel them, and where ren comes away learning to emote more freely, yang comes away learning to be more cognizant of what her anger does to people. these are both deeply emotional people, but they need to learn that being completely unhinged or completely repressed are far from perfect.

with that out of the way, i hope you’ve enjoyed my thoughts! they’ve gotten a bit more jumbled as time went on, but i really think that team JNPR’s role in characterizing the main 4 is a really important one. as for what happens after the fall of beacon, i think that they should go their separate ways, ren, nora, and jaune splitting up to contend with the death of pyrrha. this mirrors the split of team RWBY, where yang goes home to recover from her injury, ruby, no longer accompanied by team JNR, goes off on her own to try and stop cinder’s forces, weiss is taken home by her family to contend with its newly-illuminated legacy, and blake ventures off to put a stop to adam. i think they should reunite at the end of the volume, after a bit of emotional work is done. but that’s a discussion for another post.

#benny's RWBY rewrite #RWBY #pyrrha nikos #jaune arc #nora valkyrie #lie ren #characters

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

The First Meet, Khushi’s Trauma & Reaction to Arnav’s Proposal

Dearest S-A (sweet anon),

First of all thank you for sending these lovely asks. It’s great to communicate with like minded pankhas (aka fans) of IPKKND. So let’s answer this in a few segments:

Arnav-Khushi first interaction also counts as sexual harassment

@phati-sari had an excellent post on this

I think Arnav suffered from untreated PTSD since he was fourteen. I don’t think he is an abusive person, I think many times he was shown being triggered into abusive behaviour. For example, the dori incident in their first meeting happened immediately after Khushi asked him how he’d feel if his sister’s wedding was in jeopardy, which hurt him because his parents died on Anjali’s wedding day. Similarly, he locked Khushi in a room and threatened sexual abuse on the day before his parent’s death anniversary. (Does this make it okay? Absolutely not. But it does explain it.)

@arnavsinghraizada too made an astute observation in this post

Khushi’s mentioning of his sister’s broken rishtaa serves as an actual trigger, causing a very quick escalation of the situation. *****Now, while heightened aggression is a very common symptom of PTSD, it does not act as a justification for Arnav’s next actions. An explanation yes, but never a justification.** This is where things get well and truly ugly but also show a very important scene that will serve to define the rest of Arnav and Khushi’s relationship. Arnav makes some very… questionable comments pertaining to the combined power patriarchy and his wealth give him in their dynamic and to prove his point he tears the pearl*** dori on Khushi’s lehenga. Let’s get the cursing and screaming out of the way here caUSE BOY DID I CUSS HIM OFF IN MY HEAD. Unacceptable, horrible thing to do.

So yes, what happened was wrong. For Khushi, it’s all the same traumatizing event. But there is more to what happened that night. For the night on the terrace, there is NO room for explanation for Shyam.

but it's her character trait to bury trauma and go on as if the world is glorious

Yes, I absolutely agree with this. More than often we’ve seen Khushi bury her trauma and live out her childhood, in parts, as aspects of her character. It’s not her fault. Trauma is no one’s fault and everyone reacts differently to it. A lot matters on what Arnav and Khushi faced immediately after their trauma.

Arnav was faced with multiple betrayals and abandonment (father’s cheater, parents commit suicide, uncle kicks them out, trusted grandma disappears) but was welcomed into a house with loving arms. No one questions his belonging to the family. His PTSD, left untreated, is more than often visible when he’s triggered.  

With Khushi, she was immediately adopted into a family who had no plans for a second child / not financially equipped to adopt a second, grown up child. With Buaji’s and the neighbors’ attitudes she probably has grown up listening to what a big FAVOR the family has done to keep her. Her trauma is also never completely addressed and perhaps she lives the ideal of ‘my presence shouldn't make anyone’s life difficult’ and she is obligated to anyone who shows her the slightest bit of kindness. Which summarizes her entire feelz for the Shyam-Anjali situation.

Following the terrace scene, there should have been at least one glimpse of Khushi's momentary surprise/elation at Arnav offering marriage (prior to the crude conditions he follows up with)

Ah I’ve thought of this SO many times! Imagine Arnav’s shock if Khushi hugged him out of joy or was surprised/elated at his offer. But the more I watch the scene I realise that Khushi would’ve smiled, jumped, cried or even ‘accidentally’ kissed him - if they directly met at the poolside right after the mirror bindi moment. But Khushi has always been directly in tune with Arnav’s emotions.

She kinda does understand him like no one else. SO the minute she sees him when Payal and Akash’s wedding ceremony begins - she knows that everything has gone wrong. She smiles at him and he only stares at her, in hatred. When Payal and Akash bump heads, she tries to smile at him again - but he is only pained. And then, he shadows her and painfully grips the wound he had so carefully bandaged a night ago.

That is not a man in love. Nor a man who would propose marriage. Nor the man she’d want to marry.

That’s why his proposal leaves her in bitter shock, than a pleasant one.

Take care and thanks for sending me such awesome asks S-A,

Sincerely,

J-W-B

#ask #sweet anon #ipkknd #iss Pyaar ko kya naam doon #analysis #thoughts

[hawkland]

Dear Hurt Comfort Exchange creator

My Letter for the 2021 Hurt Comfort Exchange

My AO3 profile: sidewinder

Thank you for writing for me! I know I’ll be thrilled with whatever you come up with for any of my requests. (And if I babble on or have more prompts for one request than another, don’t take that as any kind of preference. I’d love receiving any of these equally; some are just newer ships for me so I may have a lot of unfulfilled ideas.)

Please consider the requested tags all the “prompt” you need if so inspired, if none of my suggested scenarios and ideas inspire you. Also, of course, feel free to combine them or use only one as you see fit!

Overall/General Do Not Wants:

A/B/O dynamics, mating heats

animal abuse/death

anything related to pregnancy/childbirth/kidfic

formalized BDSM relationships

non-canon gender identities and/or sexual orientations except gay/bi/pan for requested ships/characters 

scat/watersports

unrequested alternative-universe scenarios such as high school/mundane/genderswap/coffee shop/etc (however, canon-divergent AUs completely fine!)

Supernatural

I'm a fairly new SPN fan so I am still in the phase of discovering all the joy (and pain and angst) this ship/fandom can bring me. So I have a LOT of requests, varying based on who is hurt & who needs comforting.

As far as general fandom/universe likes, I'm also a big fan of Bobby, Charlie, Sam, Gabriel and Balthazar - so feel free to include them in any form or fashion that might fit. I can go with either human or still-angel Cas as endgame if it applies. Similarly, either feel free to ignore the finale (everything 15.18-15.20) or give me plenty of angst "fixing" it/expanding on it so that it's not...such...ugh.

My only fandom-specific DNW is any suggestion/inclusion of Wincest.

Castiel/Dean Winchester (hurt Castiel)

Wingfic - injured wings 

Wingfic - Grooming Wings to Comfort Winged Character

I have a serious fixation on Cas's wings and any scenario where Dean can actually see/feel them. Dean tending to Cas's weakened/broken wings after the Angels' fall (or, earlier in canon if somehow injured). Maybe post-finale/rescue/etc his wings start to heal but he needs Dean to help groom them during the healing/regrowth process.

Sharing a bed with hurt character while mutually pining 

Being bathed while mutually pining 

Comforter drapes their coat over hurt character's shoulders 

Character A gently bathes hurt B (turns sexual) 

Guilt over past actions 

Cathartic Crying

Character A has been crying and tries to hide it but Character B still notices it

Character doesn't realize how badly they're hurt until they collapse

Character feels comforted by wearing loved one's clothes

Keeping Sick Characters Warm

Falling Asleep As A Sign Of Trust

I'd love human!Cas for these (Season 9, AU where Cas stays at the bunker? Or post-canon if coming back from The Empty meant giving up his grace.) He's struggling with adapting to his human condition/getting hurt, maybe just overwhelmed by human emotions and sensations? Dean is there to help, of course, and Things Happen. (With a side note that I love stories that don't forget that Cas is/was a bad-ass captain, leader and fighter among angels - so he's not and never should be a total woobie. But maybe that makes it harder for him to accept when he DOES need help and comforting because it's not something he's ever been used to needing - or receiving - in the past.)

Aftermath of Resurrection 

attempted self-sacrifice is thwarted by people who do not agree character is expendable 

Big Damn Rescue (with comfort)

A rescues B from the underworld or afterlife 

Fix-it - Character survives canonical death 

Recovering from traumatic resurrection 

Touch-Starved 

Touch-Starved Character gets their hair stroked & gets other kind gentle touches & cuddles

Character doesn't believe they deserve to be saved at such a cost; loved one disagrees 

Dreamworld featuring worst memories/fears

Resurrection - came back wrong

Rescue

These are all suggestions for any kind of fix-it to 15x18 and getting Cas back from The Empty. Just...go wild with the angst and h/c here. Maybe it's taken some time to get Cas back and he's not sure how to deal with being back. It's been so long that he's been isolated in his dreams/regrets/nightmares that he's starved for (Dean's) touch, but it's almost overwhelming to be near him again (or he's having a hard time telling reality from just another dream.) Or, for "Resurrection - came back wrong" - Cas is back but Dean senses something isn't right about him or the entire situation. What can he do to fix it, if anything?

Character overuses powers/magic/etc to protect a loved one 

Forced to watch other character's trauma 

Torture - Tortured While Loved Ones Were Forced To Watch

Pretty much what the tags say, nothing really to add but bring on the angst and comfort after the hurt!

Castiel/Dean Winchester (hurt Dean)

Character A hurts Character B accidentally during sex 

Losing Control Over Magic/Powers 

Character A doesn't know their own strength and hurts B by mistake

What it says on the tin, basically. Cas gets overwhelmed when having sex with Dean (or when triggered by something else, a perceived threat/danger) and accidentally injures him? Healing may take some time due to the severity (or limited powers in the aftermath), or Cas just feels extreme guilt over having hurt the one he loves so badly.

Pining character reveals their feelings while not quite lucid (hurt/drunk/etc.) 

Character(s) ashamed of their sexual desires 

Character A takes Character B on a road trip to avoid dealing with current bad situation

Boys being stupid with their feelings and not talking to each other, but a h/c scenario forces the truth to come out.

Aftermath of Resurrection 

Aftermath of torture that broke character 

Aftermath of Torture 

Past Torture

I need more angst/actual dealing with what it did to Dean to spend 40 years in Hell. This feels like it was so glossed over in canon compared to the fact that, truly, it means he spent more time in Hell than alive on Earth literally up until almost the time of his (finale) death. (I mean I get this is SPN and they all went through stuff, but, SERIOUSLY! Why did it seem like a year in Purgatory affected him more than so much time in Hell?) So any story with Cas (or Cas and other characters), trying to help him with that. Comforting him through nightmares or panic attack, getting him to finally talk about it (could even be post-finale canon-compliant, residual anger that his life was cut so short after all the torture he went through in Hell?)

Character A gets angry at Character B's tendency to self-sacrifice 

attempted self-sacrifice is thwarted by people who do not agree character is expendable 

attempted self-sacrifice 

Bedside Vigils 

Fix-it - Character survives canonical death 

Character resigned to their death survives; doesn't know how to cope 

Waking from coma or deep sleep and realizing the beloved caretaker is near

Any kind of fix-it to Dean's death by rebar; I can't get enough of them. Maybe Dean doesn't die in the finale, but he is severely wounded/in a coma. He's trapped in his (dream) visions of Heaven; can Cas help him come back? I could really use Cas (and other friends/family) trying to convince Dean he can actually have happiness for himself, too, that he doesn't have to keep laying down his life for everyone else.

Gentle acts of caretaking 

Gently coaxing out-of-it sick/hurt character back to bed

Character ordered to rest tries to work anyway 

Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Caring for hurt character by cooking for them or getting them their favourite food

Character cooks for sick/injured character(s)

Sick/hurt character falls asleep on comforter

Back rubs/hair stroking to help a character sleep

Sleepy Cuddles

Awkward Comforter

Watching Hurt Character Sleep

Wingfic - Using Wings to Hug Another Character

Just...any kind of sweet comfort fic where Cas gives Dean what he needs after an exhausting hunt or when not feeling well. Maybe when/if Cas is human so he no longer has his angelic healing powers to fall back on, so he tries to do whatever else he can to make Dean feel better? Even if it's bad cooking, awkward cuddles, misguided attempts at human “comfort” he doesn’t quite understand.

Crossover Fandom

Ezekiel Stone (Brimstone) & Castiel (SPN) (hurt Castiel) Ezekiel Stone (Brimstone) & Dean Winchester (SPN) (hurt Dean) Ezekiel Stone (Brimstone) & Dean Winchester (SPN) (hurt Ezekiel)

Aftermath of Torture 

Aftermath of Violence 

Character is beaten up and left for dead 

Talking about their traumas 

characters help each other cope with grief 

Character with high pain tolerance is in too much pain to hide it having to hide while injured 

poisoned wound 

Trapped Together During Gunfire/Fighting 

Character's been pulled to alternate dimension where everything's weird and they need an ally 

Character A comforts Character B about their shared misfortune 

Magical Ailment/Disease 

trapped in an isolated place together 

Road Trip - To Undo the Apocalypse 

Both Captured - Forced to Work Together to Escape 

A used to mistreatment from others unsure if B will help them

I'm fascinated by the idea of crossing over these two canons. Even if there's some conflict in their approach to Hell/Lucifer/demons, there's still a lot in common. Dean & Ezekiel having both put in their time in Hell and being demon Hunters, for instance, and their complicated relationships with (fallen) angels. I'd love to see them bonding over their experiences (Maybe they even meet in Hell? Time DOES work differently there...) Maybe somehow after Ezekiel completed his mission for the Devil, he did get his second chance at "life on Earth"...but the devil's trick is that it's not HIS Earth, it's in a different dimension (Supernatural's). I'm also curious how Ezekiel might respond to Castiel as an angel--perhaps he mistakes Cas for a demon at first, with his powers, but then they realize they are in fact hunting the same demon? Cas is stuck in an alternative dimension and recognizes Ezekiel as a similar soul to Dean's, and seeks out his help?

Basically I'd love some kind of casefic/demon hunt here, with the characters bonding over their shared/similar past traumas, taking care of each other when/if injured on a hunt, and/or perhaps helping them sort out their complicated feelings for another (ie, background Cas/Dean and/or Zeke/the Devil are TOTALLY welcome here, as I ship both of those ships.)

Law & Order: SVU

John Munch/Odafin "Fin" Tutuola (hurt Fin) John Munch/Odafin "Fin" Tutuola (hurt John)

Gentle acts of caretaking 

Comfort Food 

making comfort food for emotionally distressed character 

Caring for hurt character by cooking for them or getting them their favourite food 

Aftermath of Violence 

Emotional Hurt/Comfort 

Bedside Vigils 

Overworking Character ordered to rest tries to work anyway 

Character is Exhausted From Overwork 

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD 

Fights with family member - Helps them feel better in some shape or form 

Worrying over the safety of family members 

Trapped Together During Gunfire/Fighting 

trapped in an isolated place together 

Character A holds Character B as they fall asleep after bad day

Characters live together while one recovers from hurt 

Watching TV Together After a Stressful Mission/Quest

Caring for pet as self-care

Hangover

A presumed dead; B refuses to believe A died 

Presumed Dead

Munch/Fin is a forever OTP for me. I love any story that features some kind of gentle caretaking between them, small gestures of affection, love, and concern that say so much without the words that they may (still) struggle to speak. So my prompts for them are mostly of the soft and emotional kind of hurt/comfort revolving around their jobs and what they have to process involving that. Making sure a character gets enough rest/eats when pushing too hard to solve a case. Providing a shoulder to cry on/being someone to vent at when a case doesn't go their way/they can't save every victim. Not slowing down enough when injured/needing to recuperate because a case matters too much to them. Munch perhaps musing/worried about getting older and not being physically strong enough, any longer, to be able to protect Fin in the field (is that why he finally goes for the sergeant promotion, and/or eventually retires?)

Worrying about/dealing with a family member who might be in danger is another thing I'd love to see — Fin worried over Ken, Alejandro and their baby. Or perhaps Munch gets a call from his brother and there’s some kind of trouble with his family in Baltimore?

Anything along those lines (whether an episode expansion/missing scene or a completely original casefic) would leave me extremely happy. I'd also LOVE to read an angsty presumed dead fic, which has been so hard to find for this ship.

The Orville

Ed Mercer/Gordon Malloy (both hurt)

On the Run - Together 

Fight to Survive - Post-Apocalyptic 

trapped in an isolated place together 

Permanently Stranded on Another World/Planet 

stranded in hostile environment with injury 

stranded in space 

Trapped In Liminal Space 

Apocalypse - Survivors find comfort with each other 

Trapped with someone in need of medical care 

characters help each other cope with grief 

aftermath of near death experience 

desperate love confession after near-death experience

Casual/Unromantic Sex Leads to Unwanted Feelings 

Character Tries to Convince Themselves They're Fine With Casual Sex; They're Not

This very silly show still manages to give me a lot of deep feels, and I really love Ed and Gordon's friendship, the history that's clearly there between them. This is definitely a friends-to-lovers ship for me, or maybe a casual sex-relationship turned-more-serious.

I'd love a story set in the alternative universe/timeline we glimpsed in the second season finale, "The Road Not Taken"—where the Kaylons have destroyed life on earth and the remaining Orville crew members are trying to survive in a loose resistance. In that we saw Ed and Gordon on the run together, so that's what I would love to see more of. Their day-to-day survival, grief over what was lost, hiding out or trapped somewhere together knowing no one is out there who can rescue them.

Otherwise, any kind of mission gone wrong where they end up stranded in space/stuck on an alien world together with no way to get back to the ship/crew. How would they cope with losing everything they once had and knew?

Homicide: Life on the Street

Kay Howard/John Munch (hurt Kay) Kay Howard/John Munch (hurt John) Kay Howard/John Munch (both hurt)

Kay/John is another one of my longtime comfort OTPs; I just love them both so much and the fun contrast they present. Honestly H:LOTS is one of my all-time favorite television series, period, and I'm always happy to see more fic for it!

I don't have any specific fandom DNWs here, go wild, include any other/all characters from the canon universe who might fit. I basically love them all.

Trapped with someone in need of medical care 

Trapped Together During Gunfire/Fighting 

trapped in an isolated place together 

Love confession to/from sick/hurt character who is out of it 

Character A Confesses Feelings Because They Think Character B is Unconscious 

Humor as way of dealing with pain/trauma 

Driving with a mildly sick/injured character in the passenger seat 

Driving with a severely sick/injured character in the passenger seat

For these I'd love any kind of case-fic/action-type scenario where one or both of them is injured or in danger. The stress of the situation leads to a confession of or acting on feelings.

Emotional Hurt/Comfort 

characters help each other cope with grief 

Dealing w the loss of loved ones/friends/acquaintances/familiar faces as time marches on

aftermath of near death experience 

Aftermath of Violence 

Character who is clearly not fine insists they are fine

Survivor Guilt

I'm thinking of these as episode codas or episode-related scenarios. Mourning Al's death after the events in the HLOTS movie, perhaps. Or the aftermath of the events in Season 3 with the Gordon Pratt incident—Kay, Bolander and Felton all being gravely injured and John being the only one who was left standing. I'm always keen on exploring his feelings of helplessness and guilt there, with nearly losing Kay and the others. Also how Kay recovered and felt after coming so close to death.

Gentle acts of caretaking

Comfort Food

Caring for hurt character by cooking for them or getting them their favourite food 

Character cooks for sick/injured character(s) 

Hangover

Again, I love characters cooking for each other as a way of showing love and comfort. I tend to see Munch as someone who has a secret knack for being a good cook, so maybe he makes something special for Kay when she's sick/recovering from something and it reveals a side of John she never knew or saw before.

#dear author #dear creators #hurt comfort exchange

[sixofravens-reads]

Review: Septimus Heap by Angie Sage

The 7th son of the 7th son, aptly named Septimus Heap, is stolen the night he is born by a midwife who pronounces him dead. That same night, the baby's father, Silas Heap, comes across a bundle in the snow containing a newborn girl with violet eyes. The Heaps take this helpless newborn into their home, name her Jenna, and raise her as their own. But who is this mysterious baby girl, and what really happened to their beloved son, Septimus?

Overall Rating: ★★★★/☆☆☆☆☆

Favourite Book: Magyk

Least Favourite Book: Queste

I’ve decided to review this entire series at once because a) I didn’t really record any notes for each book and b) honestly I read these so fast that in some cases I’m not certain what plot points happened in which books. In the future, I’ll try to review each book in a series individually!

*spoilers below!*

The first two books, Magyk and Flyte were childhood favourites, and I finally read the rest of the series at the end of 2019 and beginning of 2020. Overall, it’s a fun series, filled with quirky characters and magic. I grew to love all of the castle’s inhabitants, from the prideful and stern Marcia Overstrand to the nervous and excitable Sarah Heap. 

That being said, unfortunately I think I’m too old to properly enjoy this series and I wish I’d read them all as a kid. There were some wordlbuilding details or plot points that needled me that kid!Steph wouldn’t have taken issue with at all.

Likes:

The worldbuilding was really well done and interesting, from the castle’s inhabitants to the way the Custodian takes over to the ice tunnels and other remnants of Alchemie. It’s clear Sage had the whole world thought out early on.

The characters are all delightful and individual. Rereading the first two books was like meeting old friends again. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed the Boggart!

The magic system in the world is well thought-out. Magyk and Alchemie have set limits, and also fill gaps in each other, so both in the end are necessary to keep the palace running.

I really liked Merrin as a villain, he’s just a traumatized, angry kid who turns to the Darke because it’s the only thing that makes him feel accepted and powerful. Giving him his mom back and letting him live with her was a great ending to his plotline.

Similarly, Simon’s character development was excellent. And the way Marcia etc. reassigned people after the Supreme Custodian was ousted instead of imprisoning them all was great. I love the theme of even though you’ve done bad/were forced to do bad, you can still be a good person.

This book was kind of marketed as another Harry Potter, and while it does involve kids learning magic, it’s quite different, which is refreshing!

Dislikes:

The teasing of Hotep-Ra having access to/using modern technology, but lack of confirmation or explanation or reasoning for why say, submarines exist but not trains or planes really bugged me. This is probably because I aged out of the series tbh. Also maybe it’s just because I’m a crazy person who’s obsessed with Chernobyl, but is the Alchemical Fyre not based off a nuclear reactor? No wonder the ExtraOrdinaries didn’t want it lit!

Sometimes the story seemed to dawdle with unimportant NPCs for the purpose of introducing one tiny bit of plot or worldbuilding that could’ve been done in an easier/less time-consuming way. Mainly this happened in Queste, where the majority of the story focussed on the Castle, and very little was dedicated to the House of Foryx or the journey there, which IMO is the much more interesting setting. I wish we got to see more of Nicko and Snorri’s time there, and also that we could’ve found out why the Guardian was like that. That would also have made Nicko and Snorri’s breakup in Darke less sudden, I think. They weren’t really fleshed out enough for me to feel anything about it.

There also seemed to be a lot of red herrings or plotlines that ended up being unnecessary, which is also probably something I wouldn’t have cared about as a child, but as an adult I found it obnoxious that there were whole sections that weren’t necessary because the main plot took a different direction. The main example being when the MCs go to get Merrin during Fyre, only to have the wizards go straight for the Alchemical Fyre. It just felt like a lot of wasted time when Septimus and Marcellus at least could have guessed they’d go for the only source of their destruction first.

There were a couple of times when you could kinda tell Sage accidentally over-powered her MCs and had to nerf them for the plot to work (ie. Marcia taking away Sep’s Flyte charm because of his lack of focus)

#book reviews #septimus heap #angie sage #may add to this later but my laptop is at 1% battery RIP

[trainwreck-in-glitter]

A PSA ON MY PERSONAL JULES VAUGHN OPINION:

Since everyone in the euphoria fandom seems to have differing sometimes extreme views on Jules (particularly her affect on Rue’s mental health, as well as her messy feelings around both Rue and Anna). I thought I’d make a bb thread on my take of what we’ve seen of Jules this season. Keep reading for some spoliers.

Jules & The War With Conquering Femininity

since episode one jules entered as a very dynamic character, everything from her distinguished wardrobe gives her an almost commanding presence despite the innate softness she carries. Nate himself deciding to corner her publicly at a party explicitly saying “nobody that looks like you is minding their own fucking business” while getting up in her face. Jules grabs a kitchen knife before threatening Nate asking “do you want to fucking hurt me?” before she cuts her arm and holds it up almost like a flag? and declares “she’s fucking invincible.” with Nates fathers tapes at home, Nate has grown up with all the values of toxic masculinity engraved in him since birth, which definitely showed itself when he threatened to have her done for child pornography not long after cat fishing her all because she rejected him (MADDY S2 GIRL PLEASE)

Jules was initially falling for Nate as he catfished her, and one night getting particularly intoxicated she hallucinates Nate and her having violent sex with him in which she is in charge. This counters all of her assumed very concerning risqué hookups with older men, in which she is usually more submissive. In one episode she states “it’s like if I can conquer men I can conquer feminity.” Being sent to mental hospital temporarily at a young age for self harm and severe depression likely linked to her experiences of gender dysphoria before and after transitioning, it makes sense that through these unsafe hookups Jules is getting affirmation about her place in the world and in her own body when you take this into account. This also seems to put a hurdle in the road when it comes to her exploring her own queerness, which she begins to do at later episodes particularly one sexual experience with Anna in which she hallucinates Rue a fair portion of the time even saying “you remind me of my best friend” before they hooked up.

Rules relationship/mental health

Rue and Jules met after the initial party at you guessed it (another party, y’all I swear euphoria teens get out way more often then actual humans right? maybe I’m just sad-). Rue patched up Jules’ wound and they got high together , their faces covered in glitter and they dreamily gaze at each other in a tent. They are every arm linked never one without the other best friend pair in a matter of days, Rue herself becoming noticeably jealous when Jules was still invested in ‘Tyler’ the false persona Nate crafted in order to attract Jules online who to him is the ideal example of feminity according to his psychotic lengthy checklist (see below).

After nearly seeing Rue overdose on fentanyl Jules is noticeably distraught and just manages to croak out that she’s “experienced enough traumatic shit in her life.” and “isn’t trying to be best friends with someone who’s trying to kill themself”. she tells Rue she doesn’t want to be around her unless she stops using, and Rue agrees too quickly for an addict. Too desperately, so much so that her attachment to Jules is even compared to her addiction Rue saying “nothing on planet earth comes close to fentanyl, except Jules.” who is apparently a ‘close second’. and then they’re everywhere in smudged liquid liner on bikes, tucking each other’s hair behind their ears and coyly smiling while gays everywhere crow and wonder if they’re truly just friends.

poor mental health in general can make even small tasks or everyday life things feel like an overstimulation, Jules and Rue separately have and still do bear the weight of repressed sexuality/gender expression, addiction issues, manic and depressive episodes, self harm and more. when you add things like catfishing, toxic masculinity, teenage insecurity and puppy dog eye teen love feelings often get heightened and any negative experience can be rapidly blown out of proportion. It’s no secret euphoria is a show of extremes, as are all teenagers especially those struggling outside of growing up already. when rue gets caught up in a moment and kisses Jules who seems unsure how to respond, she finds herself moments later pounding her dealers door begging for anything to take her mind off of the present moment. Jules also finds herself getting uncharacteristically drunk on the Halloween episode at a party, just after dodging rues second attempt of a kiss. While intoxicated she kisses rue underwater, leaving rue confused and feeling completely used. It’s entirely possible Jules needed liquid courage to actually take the plunge, remember she isn’t used to any kind of equal relationship.

they finally mutually kiss sober in collapse of sliding memories of the early friendship, most of which they are intertwined in bed. they both frequently tell each other that they look “fucking amazing” and even get matching lip tattoos of enneagram of their names ‘rules’. To me Rue seems like every textbook teenager smitten, on edge and bashful around Jules seen when she asks her for dinner per her mums requests. They are everything we feel and see and experience in school hallways and night streets and body odour reeking school cafeterias, the innocent lack of subtlety and pure comfort. however they come with a side mix of intoxication, mental illness, personal identity issues and themes of codependency (per the rues sobriety ultimatum and rues repition of affirming “Jules is the best thing that’s happened to her in so long”.

with Lexi and others frequently commenting and or that alluding that Jules is responsible for Rue’s sobriety, Jules starts to visibly panic. her eyeliner becomes harsher and more ethereal yet at the same time more cutting around the time she starts to push herself away from Rue (a decision said to be deliberate by the makeup artist). Rue asks to go home with her one night to which Jules hesitantly agrees instead of declining, from Jules’ perspective it’s abundantly clear she’s feeling the pressure of keeping her ¿girlfriend'¿ alive. that impending guilt she’s feeling because she knows inevitably she will likely hurt rue somehow whether they drift apart, etc to me it’s clear she’s ready to run away from her unsaid role of caregiver.

rue asks Jules if she wants to just pack up and leave and live in the city with her soon after she confesses to being in love with both Anna and her. Whether this was an impulsive attempt at getting ins first by rue or just a testament of how much Jules’ could dictate her life. Rue begins having second thoughts and Jules ends up tearfully leaving on the train without her. so why the fuck did she leave then? the pressure? the crazy ass town? the love she didn’t want to fuck up? or did she just want someone who would get on the train for her? many questions, probably more than one answer. this scene aside jules remains my favourite, and I’m still needing a hug from her 🥺

Conclusion of S1 Jules Vaughn =

I personally believe Rue gets more understanding for her complex character as opposed to Jules, who actively struggled with her gender expression and navogating her own likes and needs while trying to engage in an intense level relationship with somebody who has self destructive tendencies has made some mistakes in said relationship. Similarly so has rue, because it’s too fucking easy to accidentally cross toxic borders in relationships. I believe that if pray hope Jules returns from the city it’s in an extended time, when both her and rue have had the hours and minutes they need to grow and understand their own afflictions more. Ultimately Jules is just trying to decipher her own feelings for rue still, the hookup with Anna was all part of addressing that. Ultimately Jules is still trying to decipher her feelings, but for me she’s the most relatable three dimensional character to be shown on television. perfectly capturing the beautiful messiness in maturing, and the naivety in love and heartbreak.

#rue x jules #euphoria #jules vaughn #euphoria hbo #rue bennet icons #rue bennett #tw scars

[chaos-burst]

Various comments on my question about campaign starts a while back! I finally got around to answer them! I’ll try to see if I can get to some of the asks I’ve gotten as well. 

@bi-vexual If the characters are the typical hero type something spontaneously attacking wherever they're at is cool imo! That immediately makes them work together and then they might try to find out why that attack happened

-> They are indeed not the typical hero types :’D The most hero-type character is a grumpy cleric. So that will not be a solution for them. 

@im-your-spacedad-now One of my players tried to steal something and one by one the rest joined in a chase across the town

-> Actually something that might happen, but I feel like depending on the characters you have it might misfire and stop them from actually forming a group. But it sounds like a nice creative start of a campaign!

@canaryfeather I like the characters to start out knowing each other. That way you don't have the awkward getting to know you stuff and can go straight to having them walking into a town or getting attacked or whatever. That said, the first game I was in, we met on the road when a few were attacked by wolves, others stopped to help, and a cleric happened by to heal them.

-> Yeah, I like when characters know each other as well! Won’t work for me, but I will have two of them meet beforehand at least :) 

@weissschnee-tm  In one campaign I dmed, made an npc that I had all the pcs know, then had her gather them to ask for their help with something. Party tie, first quest, and a bit of insurance all in one! In the other, I helped the pcs build back stories that put them all in the same place at the same time in a really interesting and thematic city. I sort of figured they'd stumble across each other as they explored it, but I was ready to stage a small attack on the city to bring then together if necessary

-> That thing with the NPC everyone knows is really really awesome :D I will keep that in mind for any future campaigns I might do!

@artisticarperture One of the campaigns I was I started similarly to the force awakens where there was a riot and my character was a soldier who was supposed to silence it, but gained morals halfway through. The rest of the players were all either rioters or bystanders. It was interesting cause we started the campaign in initiative

-> I like that, because it’s customized so much for the individual characters :) And starting in initiative must be very exciting :D

@dark-as-night-sweet-as-sin One of my campaigns, all the pcs got a letter from an npc they all knew, asking them to meet and go on a quest for them Also you could have a session zero where all the players get used to rping their characters, and the group could come up with why their characters know each other organically

-> That is already out of the window, because they all have wildy differing backstories, so they won’t really know each other beforehand, bc reasons ^^ But generally that is a very nice idea!

@phirephox666 In jail

@lionsfairytale In one of our summer campaigns, my friend started us in a tournament scenario, which gave us a chance to get back into the swing of things and play with our character’s abilities before we were attacked for real. For the next one he did give us a hint he wants us all to start by being woken up from literal death by some sort of entity.

-> Waking up from death sounds very badass. The tournament was something I considered, but had to dismiss bc of one of the player’s backstories ^^ But I might get back to it later in the campaign.

@tiefling-queer I introduced my players to each other by putting them all in the hotel California and making their first encounter be the lot of them trying to escape and fighting off goons. in one campaign I'm in, we all started in prison and were broken out by rebels. in several I've been in, we were all just separate schmucks who happened to answer a job put out by a village. setting/campaign plot can play a big role in the meetup - the prison break scenario was a fun setup for us becoming rebel fighters (sort of), and in a sailing campaign I was in the party was just assigned bunkmates/on the same watch. i enjoy throwing the party right into some sort of immediate problem since it gives them a moment to think "oh these guys know what they're doing I could roll with

-> Breaking out of jail was one of my initial ideas, when one of my players said “don’t traumatize my poor boy” and I was like “fair enough” :’D But throwing the party into an immediate problem sounds very reasonable!

@wytch-lyghts Each of my players were being inducted into a thieves guild — each knew a friend of a friend type scenario who told them to be at the same place at the same time, they show up, it’s not the guild. It’s where they met a recruiter who started them off on their first task to prove themselves capable/worthy: find the guild via a long trek through the city sewers. I figure this design could work for joining any group really, but it was fun

-> Ha, that reminds me of the start of the thieves’ guild quest in TES Oblivion :D it’s pretty cool, as long as your characters all fit that kind of thing (which mine do not)

@squirrel-saloli my friends and I recently started a d&d club, and we got a lot of new players. we started out as one big group with three of us dming. because a really personal beginning was impossible with so many people, we had them start out in a guild that would pay them to complete tasks that regular citizens commission them for.

-> I have a series of oneshots i do for the same group of friends and that has them in a guild as well! it’s a pretty nice starting point and i like it, but i enjoy it mostly for the oneshots! for a whole campaign i will do it differently :)

@kneesntoess    we met in a tavern, but we met in a tavern after the three of us had been accidentally plane shifted by a death cult, so

-> Oh wow :o That surely is a beginning :’D 

@pixeljam45 My current crew met over an ad that they all saw, but we have plans that in the next campaign, they're going to all wake up after a night if drinking too hard and be on the run for a crime they can't remember committing that night because it was nickel-shot-night at the bar.

-> Something like that seems to be very popular! I wish I were better at creating mysteries, bc I would totally love for them to solve some puzzles/crimes along the way. Let’s see if my brain will let me :D

@captainclovey in one campaign I was a player of, we all met at a festival for a big event in the city we were in, cue something goes wrong and we're ones who get pulled into helping out before all being branded with something magical that meant we couldnt back out

-> Yep, I considered cursing two of my players with magical objects so they couldn’t leave the other’s vicinity without taking damage. I hope it won’t be necessary :D

@faecallie In the drow campaign my sister made for us the party had been kidnapped by drow to be slaves, but the caravan had been attacked by a drow dissenter to free us. But as part of the terror tactics the drow used to break slaves, we woke up naked in coffins. Really set the tone for a campaign where the drow were nearly done conquering the surface for Lothe.

-> I’m not a fan of the classic d&d drow concept *cough* And I don’t want to make my campaign too grimdark. But if that’s your sort of thing, I hope it was lots of fun :D

@dontdropthejam I started my players on a train, in the same car as each other. Some plot relevant NPCs joined them, and then the train had to stop for repairs, leaving them stranded in a remote mountain hotel, where train car passengers were sorted into hotel rooms with each other. Then a kid got kidnapped and the plot began!

-> Kidnappings/Jails seem to be very popular :D 

@sandssavvy Well, in one campaign I was in they all met because they were all arrested (mostly separately) and had to escape from the same cell. It wasn't done that well by the dm cause he tended to shoehorn moments. But if it was done well by a dm who knew a lot about the pcs and their weaknesses/what could get them into trouble, it could be cool.  In snother campaign, we were each sent a summons into a meeting for an investigation they wanted us to do cause of our different talents.

-> I think many concepts for campaign starts depend on how well the DM does it. I mean, we saw Matt doing a very lovely tavern-meeting-campaign-start! And my first campaign started like that as well. But yeah, the jail idea is really great and I love it a lot :D

@genderliquid If you’re overwhelmed: make them decide, but RP it - give them enough context on their world and whatever mini arc you want to start with and make the players tell you where they’re meeting, what they’re doing there (as much as they want to say to the others) and how they got hooked in.

-> I mean, being overwhelmed is part of my nature, but I won’t do it like this for the campaign. I do want to have a plan and give them directions. But it’s something to bear in mind for potential future campaigns when the backstories are not all done yet ^^

@seventeenhealingpotions One really nice beginning is: You all wake up on the shore. There's parts of a shipwreck all around you. You see *other party members*. You don't remember them, or anything that happened before. But if these people are here, then that means they're part of your crew or other passengers. Maybe they are your group? It's only logical to stick with them for now. It's a good beginning, since you don't have that tavern trope, and you give them a reason to form a party.

-> Memory loss is pretty cool and a nice tool for a campaign start, but it’s nothing that fits my characters for the moment. I really like this idea for a oneshot or mini-adventure tho! :)

@deathdefyinglifeleaps So what if the Rogue and the Wizard stowed away on the sky pirate’s ship and the cleric is busy tending to one of the other pirates when Something happens that causes the sky ship to take off too quickly for any of them to leave? Maybe the rogue is just there to steal something?

-> Thanks for the specific suggestions, but I do have very detailed character backgrounds already and for various reasons all those solutions are not doable ^^ 

@hgr-ros Try the old voyage trick: they just arrived in the starting city and they vaguely know and like each other enougj to stuck around. I use it a lot evem though my players usually create very social characters

-> City, yes. Social characters and knowing each other will be a no :’D

@pokidragon My campaign is very homebrew so the game started with my players waking up an a prison after each of their characters died- it’s very dark souls themed :) 

-> That sounds very badass and also very ominous :D 

@asdeclaredbythedeptofawesome  One thing I will say is that my dm has written up a questions sheet. And then asked who would have done what. This allowed us to have already met and have some small back story together. They were mostly fun things like who got drunk and had to be carried home and who started the bar fight. Or who accidentally started a revolution and stuff. These all ended up having minor or major plot hooks later. It also meant that we established some of the party dynamics And relationships easily without having the first couple of sessions being awkward. Highly recommend if you want everyone to have already met. The other is tell everyone they need a reason to follow something and ask them to come up with reasons why they would follow the initial plot hook. Having built in character reasons makes things a lot simpler 

-> Oh, yeah, I have all my characters’ motivations down, that’s not the problem at all. And I will have two of them meet beforehand, but they will not be friends by any means. And questions like that I had for my series of oneshots, but for various background reasons those four would not really have known each other beforehand. 

Thanks for all the input! It’s really interesting to see how differently people start their campaigns ^-^

#d&d #dungeons and questions #screeching into the void #text

[infinitehours]

From Dusk to Dawn, an Elder Scrolls Online short fic

Rivenspire spoilers and Daggerfall Covenant questline spoilers (specifically Stormhaven and main quest).  I did like the ideas behind the Rivenspire storyline, even if I did not always like the execution.  Author notes are first, then the story.  Leave a comment or reblog if you enjoyed! 

Author notes before the story:  I’m actually not done with this story.  It’s still got another part to it that I just haven’t had the inspiration to write yet.  

This is my character Elyssa.  She's the youngest of my line-up *(only 18), and that distinction is important.  Naive and more than a little too trusting. She's also probably the only one who would purposely go out of her way just to coax a bunch of vampires into letting her stay the night, if only for the "coolness" factor of getting to stay the night at a vampire castle.

Once upon a time, I had plot bunny idea of a conversation concerning my traumatized Vestige about Molag Bal. I say traumatized because...let's be honest here.  The amount of stuff the Vestige goes through is alarmingly dark at times. It wasn't until I got to Rivenspire that I recognized the perfect situation this conversation could take place, and that the Count's status as a vampire who received his vampirism directly from Molag Bal (only to turn around and embrace morality) added an extra layer of meaning here. I hope that explains why I did this in the specific way that I did.  That vampires, and their abilities, are they themselves almost representations of Molag Bal's whole concept of domination and submission.  I like that bit of symbolism.   I don't think this particular story would have had as much of an impact otherwise.

It's canon that there are different strains of vampires and that they can do different things depending on the strain.  What's not entirely clear to me is how those mechanics always work (because we don't always see them in game), so forgive me for making a few things up. Additionally, ZOS confirmed they were changing how the feeding animation looks to something "more traditional" so I'm assuming we're going to get people biting necks in the update. Which is a lot better than the weird ridiculous looking funnel of blood, if I’m being honest here.

(one of the other reasons I wanted to write this was to come up with an explanation for why the Count is kind of...irritated all the time, lol)  

Content warnings: A little bit of Molag Bal torture going on here. Vampire biting.   Otherwise I can’t think of anything.  

***************

~~~~~~~~~~

“Difficulty sleeping?”  

Those were the first words out of his mouth the moment she stepped lightly into the study.  Even without turning around, even without her making a sound, he seemed to be keenly aware she was there.  It might have been unnerving if she didn’t know anything about him.  

“Nightmares,” was her reply, the shadow of a sad smile coming and going on her lips.  

He nodded silent acknowledgement as she took one of the carved wooden seats available.  For a moment, she watched him as he stood with his back to her; he was stock still, almost statue-like, save for the occasional instance in which he turned the page.  He wore a different set of mage’s robes than he did earlier.  It was similarly a deep, dark grey, but this one had a few threads of red woven in a delicate pattern across the length of it.

“I suppose it quite normal for a mortal to have those when staying in a place like this.”  

He said it flatly, and it was difficult for her to work out whether he was irritated at the idea or resigned to it.

“I assure you, my lord Count,” she responded carefully in turn.  “I’ve been having nightmares long before I accepted your very generous offer to spend the night.”

Platitudes.  That was surely the best way to handle a noble, undead or not, right?

“But if it is at all upsetting to you that I’m here,” she continued, hastily, “It would be a simple thing to pack my affects and travel to Shornhelm.”

He shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. I am not bothered.  And it is likewise too dangerous to travel the roads at this time at night.”

His eyes still never seemed to pry themselves away from his research as he propped open another tome on top of a large pile of books that conveniently reached his height.  

“Vampires hunt best at this time, I’m sure.”  she said, off-handedly, her fingers dancing through the length of her reddish brown hair that was now free of her usual, careful braid.    

“There’s no sun to burn our skin, and our eyes are much better attuned to the dark than a mortal’s.  The bloodfiends, who are nothing more than feral members of our kind, operate much the same.  So long as the people stay indoors and within the city walls, they should be safe.  But a lone traveler, even on horseback, may offer up a too tempting target for them to resist.  You’d be snatched in the gloom and none would hear of it until the morning.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that, though in her mind’s eye she played out a scene with her own mangled corpse lying by the side of the road.  Pale, glassy-eyed, bite-ridden and completely drained of blood.  She scowled at the thought, and shifted in her chair.

“It may not come down to that,” She said, her voice lacking the confidence she’d hoped for, “I’d say I’m pretty good at fighting bloodfiends; and, in fact, I’ve already fought some of them at night...”

“I don’t doubt that, Elyssa.  But is there any real reason to risk yourself unnecessarily? Stay here for the night, and I promise you can leave in the morning.  As early as it takes the sun to rise to the sky and offer you its protection.”

Her scowl deepened.  Did he think she was scared to spend the night at his home-castle-place-thing?  She knew that he was probably used to being a little bit defensive when it came to dealing with others (and that it was kind of her fault for somewhat insisting on staying to begin with), but he can’t honestly think she’d lost her nerve, could he?

“Count Verandis. I seem to have accidentally given you the impression that I’m uncomfortable here or that I desperately wish to leave if only you’d allow me.  Trust me when I say, if I was that desperate or felt like I was in that much danger, I would have already broken one of your pretty stained glass windows and JUMPED myself to freedom.”

She gestured towards the entryway.  “Although I’d probably just try the front door first. Something tells me you wouldn’t stop me, even if you do think it’s foolhardy for a mortal to be prancing about in the dead of night.”

He still didn’t turn away from his books, but from the angle of where she sat she could see the edge of his mouth twitching into, what she’d hope, was something akin towards a smile.  Or maybe that was just a trick of the light.

“I appreciate your consideration for my family home.  Stained glass is difficult to procure these days.”

She smiled at that (he HAD made a joke, right? That was meant as a joke, wasn’t it?), and adjusted herself so that she was lounging a bit in the chair.  Difficult to do, since the wood wasn’t exactly comfortable.  Her plain beige dress, what she usually wore to sleep, wasn’t padded enough to act as a cushion either.   She frowned for the third time that night, and straightened back up.  

“Do you want me to leave you to your studies?” She asked politely, just as the thought occurred to her.  It would act as an excuse to go back to the upstairs bedroom; one of the few rooms that actually had a bed in the entire castle.

“It’s not necessary.” He stated.  

She waited a moment.

“…May I ask a question?”

“If you insist.”  Again, in that flat, dull tone of his that never seemed to hold much emotion.  

“Are you always thirsty?”

This gave him pause, and she could see a few of his fingers ghosting over the latest text he held open before committing to turning another page.

“At some level, yes.  But if you’ve practiced for as long as I have and feed regularly, it’s barely noticeable.”

“So me being in this room for you is, thankfully, not distracting?”

“Your presence isn’t, no.”

Her eyes narrowed in on the back of his head. He was possibly, in a roundabout way, implying that her comments were distracting. It was another one of those statements that made it hard for her to figure out whether he was pissed off, slightly annoyed, or just bored.

“Would you like a bite?” She suddenly asked.

“What?” This time, he DID look up.  Even more, he turned to stare at her with something akin to surprise.

She sat to attention with a triumphant smirk. “Finally, a normal emotional reaction!”

And with that proclamation, his expression hardened and he returned to his books.

“I do not have time for childish endeavors, Elyssa.”  He said sourly.

“You just seem so….I don’t know. Detached.  Either that, or irritated at everyone all the time.  It’s hard to tell with you.  I think that may be the bulk of the reason why a lot of people may be uncomfortable around you.  It’s rather nice to see you actually have some…well…life left in you.”

“When you’ve lived as many years as I have, my child, and watched just as many of your friends age and die…short-lived humans, no less…people you’ve formed attachments to and cared for, again and again…You find ways of…removing yourself from all of it.  If only to ensure that it need not affect you as hard each time.”

Elyssa considered this.  “So…when you say you ‘care’ about the people of Rivenspire—“

“I do care,” He snapped his latest book shut and spun to face her. “I may not be able to feel as deeply as a mother who lost her first child, but I do care about what happens to the people of Rivenspire. I still remember what it was like to lose family, to lose loved ones, the depths of that pain.  Even if I cannot experience it fully for myself anymore, I remember enough to never wish it upon anyone else.  This is why I detest the idea of ever sharing this gift of mine; inflicting it upon others so that they would have to spend decades just learn how to control their despair enough to function.  Can you fathom, can you even imagine, the maddening realization that most everyone you love will soon wither and fade except yourself?”

He approached her at her chair, and though his voice still held that air of mild detachment, his glowing red eyes seemed to burn all the brighter with an inner light.

“You’re correct in the sense that I do have difficulties expressing this.  That I no longer have the capabilities to show others, in any genuine way, the measure of my desire to help.  Mortals rely so much on interpreting emotions through body language and tone of voice, and I am far beyond the point where I can easily weep in the presence of those who are weeping…or even do a decent attempt at trying.”

As he came to stop in front of her, he actually knelt to the ground. To her level.  Eye to eye.

“There’s a reason, in my belief, why the divines would dictate life to be so short and sweet.  Those of us who are cursed to live longer than normal risk…losing things in the process.  I often find myself wanting to socialize with mortals just to get some of that back.  A sense of personhood and direction.  Passions and strivings.  It’s truly remarkable to see reminders of how easy it comes to you.”

He carefully reached out his hand towards her cheek, as though she represented this.  As though she were a symbol of this very discussion.  Just as the tips of cold fingers brushed against her skin, she turned her head just a tad in an attempt to see it in her peripheral.  It was difficult to say whether he interpreted that as a flinch or he suddenly remembered himself, but he withdrew his hand again.  

“I apologize.” He said, getting up and returning once more to the bookshelves.  “I did not mean to touch you without permission.”

“What?  My cheek? That’s not a crime.” Elyssa replied, still trying to absorb everything he just told her.  

“Countess Tamrith would likely disagree with that assessment.”

“Countess Tamrith isn’t here.  And before you go back to your no-doubt riveting literature, I should tell you that I was genuine in offering my blood to you.”

He turned once more to her, an eyebrow delicately raised in questioning.  

“Is that so?  I believe the good Countess would now consider you to have committed a sin.” He asked, and his eyes stared straight at hers for a good measure.

For her part, believing that he was testing her resolve, she sat up straighter and met his gaze head on.

The room was silent for a moment.  

He took a tentative step towards her, and she was a little ashamed that the unexpected movement caused her to flinch. He stopped at the sight.

“We do not usually find people who willingly volunteer so soon after finding out about our condition. Are you sure?”

“Y-Yes.”

“You certainly do not sound it.”

Elyssa huffed out the breath she’d been accidentally holding.  “Well…it isn’t as though I get bitten by a vampire every other day.  I’m not sure what to expect.  Does it hurt?”

“It’s a bite, Elyssa,” And this time, she was sure those glowing eyes of his were laughing at her even if his mouth didn’t show it. “Pain is usually involved in those.  I can, however, promise that it is certainly not excruciating.”

“Well that’s a relief…I think.”

He carefully stepped towards her while she sat stock still and staring straight ahead.  For every moment that he moved closer, she grew more and more uneasy.

“Should I stand up, then?” She said, trying to distract herself from imagining the pain too much; she’d a bad habit of blowing things out of proportion.

“It would be much preferable if you remained seated...Else the dizziness may cause you to fall.  It may even be better if you were to lie down…”

“Sorry, but there’s no way you’re going to get me onto your dining room table.  That would just be too…”  She recalled to mind an earlier scene of stumbling upon them whilst they sat around a half-naked Dark Elf “….awkward.  Awkward and probably uncomfortable.  For me, that is.  No idea if you feel a hundred percent comfortable with people just casually laying on-”

Her spiraling commentary came to a screeching halt when she felt his hand rest lightly on her shoulder.  The very same shoulder twitched, of its own accord, and he removed his hand shortly after.

“That’s the third time you’ve flinched,” he accused.

“No it’s not!” She blurted out.  “That’s barely the first!”

“Elyssa…”

“I can do this!  I’m not a coward!” She insisted, finally turning to face him as he stood right next to her.

“Nobody is calling you as such.  But this is also not necessary, and I believe I made it quite clear that my household only feeds on the willing.”

“I am willing!  I just….I…” Her resolve withered a bit in the midst of staring him down.

His eyes glowing red and unnatural.  A sign, perhaps from the Divines, as to dangers that could lurk behind them.  The same kind of red eyes on the bloodfiends she’d been fighting ever since she came to Rivenspire.

“…I…I just need a moment,” she finished, knowing full well that it was an admission of defeat.

He sighed and walked back to his books.  “Go back to bed, Elyssa.  I need to focus on figuring out what Montclair’s next movements may be.”

She sat there for a few moments longer, but he was firmly encased back in his notes and didn’t turn around again to acknowledge her again.  The obvious signs that the conversation was over.

He thought she was just being childish.

It stung a little, the obvious disregard. Ignored and brushed aside so casually. It almost felt a lot like the time her papa had caught her ruining one of his prized books even after she promised she wouldn’t touch it.  Except this was pretty much a stranger, and she couldn’t discern whether that made it somehow worse.

The feeling, the blatant disregard, threatened to stifle the little study they were in, and it became too much for her to bear that she did decide to leave.  

Slowly taking the steps back upstairs to the bedroom.

She passed a dead mouse and thought idly about it; one of the things that Adusa had done to help the servants prepare the room for her was to take out a couple of live mice.  They didn’t get many guests, or so Adusa said.

But she wondered if the mice weren’t just the natural result of vacancy; the bite mark on this one suggested they were also kept around as a midnight snack.

She chuckled a bit at that as she crept onto the double bed.  The fresh sheets had been thoroughly washed with soap, she had been told, and seemed so very new that they did not even have the usual frayed threads at the end or faded patterns.  And they were just a little bit stiff.

The mortal servants didn’t stay here; there were additional rooms downstairs beyond the storage alcove.  This was purely a guest room.  ….And it almost felt fake.   Like the immortal Count of the castle had attempted to make something seem homely, only for it to just perceptively feel off.

Perhaps the room had seen such rare usage that it failed to ever take on the personalities of those who had used it.

It might have even just been the fact that there were three very obvious coffins resting in the main hall, visible from the guest suite balcony.

It wasn’t bad...it was just…

“Comfy yet, little sweetthing?” The Dremora playfully poked her with the end of a very sharp and very pointy rod.

Elyssa struggled yet again, but the bars of the humanoid shaped cage held fast.

Cadwell…

Lyris…

The Prophet…

The only three kind voices in that entire prison, and they were screaming in agony right behind her.

“What are you doing to them?!  Stop it!”  She cried out, trying, in vain, to turn her head to look at them.

“Now now.  We assure you, they’re being WELL taken care of.” The Dremora poked her again right at her collarbone.  “Just as you will be!”

The screaming behind her increased, as if to prove a point.

“But ooh. Oooh.  It seems you have a guest, sweetling.  Someone is here. Just.  To see.  You.”

More Dremora came, dragging a human alongside them.  The woman was pushed in front of Elyssa’s cage.

“….I asked you for help…” The woman said, tears falling freely as she looked up.  

A shiver went down Elyssa’s spine as soon as she realized she was staring at the face of Duchess Lakana.

“Y-your Grace…”

“I asked you for help…and what did you do?”  The Duchess pointed an accusing finger. “You left me!  You left me alone with that man, that murderer!”

“I didn’t…I didn’t mean to….I didn’t mean to, I swear.  I didn’t know it was him…”  Her eyes began to water up, a mirror of the Duchess’ own face.

“How could you?  You said you would help me!  Why didn’t you do everything you could? Why didn’t you stay with me?”

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry!”

“And you spared him!  You spared that monster!  How could you do that after he killed me?!”

“That’s enough of that!” The Dremora interrupted, prodding the Duchess to move along. “Put her Gracious Grace alongside the rest of them!  You’re starting a nice collection here, my little sweetling.”

And as soon as the Duchess was dragged out of sight, Elyssa could hear her start to scream as well.  

“Stop it!!  Let them go!!”  She rattled the cage as hard as she could.  

“Ooooh.  Making demands, are we? Do you truly think you’re in any position to save them? Look at you. You couldn’t save the Duchess.  You couldn’t save that family of that poor werewolf Duke. You couldn’t save your darling dearest father…”

The Daedra leaned right into her face, its teeth pearly white and crooked.  And the smell coming from its breath was positively putrid in an indescribable way that had no easy comparisons anywhere on Tamriel.

“…In fact, you can’t even save yourself.”

And with that, the Dremora rammed the rod straight into her shoulder, causing her to jerk back and scream.

Scream.

And Scream.  And fall back onto the…

….

…sheet covers…

Elyssa was shaking.  Her eyes darted back and forth as she ascertained that yes, those were indeed sheet covers.  She was in a room with a bed and nice looking wooden furniture.

In a room made out of stone.

A house.

No, a castle.

That’s right.  Ravenwatch Castle.

There were no Dremora in sight.  No screaming.  No water tainted blue with an eerie light.

No crags filled with bleakest rocks that spread out like daggers.

No distant tundras with nothing but dead plants the eyes could see.

No cages….

Elyssa took one, long, swipe of her hand against her brow, pulling away the sweat that had collected there.  She must have dozed off just then, only to be faced with yet another nightmare.

She tried to push it straight out of her mind and attempt to go back to sleep, but her legs demanded to wander.  That, and she was sure that if she closed her eyes again, the Daedra would return to haunt her.

Her feet took her back downstairs.  The shaking ever present in each and every one of her steps.  Soon enough, she found herself back at the study.  The doorway leading outside, the dining table, the whispering quiet of the night; it all gave the comforting confirmation that the horrors she’d just seen really were just dreams.

Adusa was out scouting the nearby towns and municipal villages.  Melina was out gathering supplies.  The mortal servants were likely fast asleep in their own quarters.  Gwendis was….well, Akatosh only knows where Gwendis went off to.   But sure and steady, Count Ravenwatch was still working in his study.  And the nightmare was fresh enough that she felt drawn to sticking around with the only conscious person she had easy access to.

The scratch of a feather quill paused only briefly as she stood at the threshold.

“Contrary to whatever you may believe, Elyssa,” The Count stated, never looking up. “The sun does not, in fact, rise every twenty minutes like you seem to do.”

Her shaking died down just enough to allow her the dignity of a glare in his direction.  Now she was convinced: the real reason people were uncomfortable around him had absolutely nothing to do with his status as a vampire.

“Bite me,” She seethed back at him.

She’d meant it as an insult.  A come back.  But she realized her mistake when he stopped writing to give her back one, long, unamused look.  Complete with an eyebrow raised.

“Did we not just have this conversation?” He said, turning to another page.

“I don’t care.  I’d rather have conversations all night long if it means I don’t have to go back to sleep.”

She started pacing a bit around the study’s doorway, if only to give her mind something to focus on and her legs something to do.

But as she made a few passes, she noticed he had stopped working and was watching her.  This time with a far more unreadable expression than the blatant apathy.

“What are your dreams about that has you so terrified?”  

“Coldharbour,” She whispered, just barely under her breath.  It must have been loud enough for him to hear her, because his eyes grew a little wider.

“You’ve…actually been there?”

The moment she stopped her pacing was the moment her shaking started up again.   She looked him in the eyes, but found she couldn’t stand to do that for long and had to look towards the floor.

She could hear him whisper something unintelligible; cursing, perhaps, under his breath in Aldmeris.

“You carry a much heavier burden than I initially thought.” He said, “You’re far, far too young for all of this…”

“I can help!  I know I can!” Elyssa insisted, “I’m not afraid of Coldharbour!  I’m not afraid of the bloodfiends!  I’m not afraid to get bitten!  I can prove it! You can have my blood; take it!”

It was supposed to be a reaffirming statement, but her protestations almost made her sound even more childish.

“Elyssa…” he spoke calmly.  Carefully.  “Why is it so important to you that you give me your blood?”

“Because you need it, don’t you?”  She said, frustrated.  She began her pacing again.

“That’s not the reason.”

“Because I want to be helpful!”

“That’s also not the reason.”

This time, she stopped pacing and got angry.

“Because if I don’t give everything I can, and something happened to you, or the High King, or the people of Rivenspire, it will be all my fault again!!”

She yelled it out, and her body feeling a little lighter as she did.  Even as her eyes had begun to water just a bit.

“There it is…” Verandis said softly.

And he left her a moment to go over to the cabinet by the door.

“One of the greatest strengths…” he said, and she could hear him fiddling with something. “…Of the Daedric Prince of Domination is not just in his talent to forcefully suppress a person’s free will or inflicting their greatest fears, but in his capacity for making them feel guilt.”

He returned with a glass of a deep red liquid.  “Physical pain may fade with time, but guilt has a habit of remaining.  What’s worse, it’s often the sufferer that fosters and grows it.  Is there any torture more perfect than that which the victim inflicts upon themselves?  Sit down, Elyssa.”

“What…?”  She glanced from him to the glass as he sat it down at the table between the two chairs in the study.

“If you still insist that I taste your blood, then I must insist that you sit down first.”

Her eyes grew wide a moment, but she clenched her fists out of resolve and held fast as she cautiously took the seat to the right.  He maneuvered the chair opposite to rest closer to her, taking a seat himself.

Her fingers were still trembling as she reached up and undid the top button at the back of her dress, but she hadn’t a clue whether they were trembling because of this or if they were simply leftovers from her fitful sleep.  It may have been both.  

“I don’t...need to take off my clothes completely, do I?”  She frowned in disgust at the thought. She hadn’t considered that part, but the Dunmer from before had been…well…half-naked.

“No,” He said, firmly.  “A shoulder is all that’s required.  Are you ready?”

She glanced at the filled glass.

“Do you always take a shot after you’ve already had a drink?” She joked weakly.

“The wine is for you, Elyssa.  I think you should drink at least a little of it when I’m done.  Now, are you prepared?”

Her hand reached up to pull down one of the shoulders of her dress, just enough so that her collarbone showed.  Her fists clenched and unclenched themselves as she rigidly held them in her lap.  If she were ever bitten by a vampire, this is what it would feel like….

Finally, she nodded.

A touch at her shoulder caused her to flinch again, but they were only fingers.  He was gently moving a strand of hair out of the way.

“Tell me.  I saw you speaking to Melina earlier and it caught my attention.  Did she find a particularly interesting rune?”

She brightened up a little at that.

“Oh!  Well not exactly; we were just talking about this one-ow.”

She was simultaneously a little irritated and a little grateful.  The skeever only asked her that as a distraction… and she actually fell for it.

Vampire fangs were apparently large enough that it felt a little like someone had just happily jabbed a pair of sewing needles into the tender part of her shoulder.  She’d had worse injuries before, but it wasn’t very pleasant either.

…And it was just a tad bit awkward.  For obvious reasons.    

Did the servants really do this on a regular basis?  

Just as she considered the pain, a wave of a new sensation came with it.  He was right; it did have the effect of making a person dizzy.  Dizzy and…a little hazy.  Perhaps it was the lack of sleep that she’d self-induced upon herself for the past couple of days, but she was actually starting to feel…calmer.

Numb.

After a few seconds had passed, it no longer hurt.  And she was no longer sitting up straight in the chair, but rather lounging.  The hard wood had suddenly felt a lot more comfy.

She could still feel him there.  It was hard to ignore his mouth (although she valiantly tried anyways, if only to make it a little less awkward), but she couldn’t really feel any blood actually going out of her (probably a blessing).  One of his hands helped to hold up her neck, and the other right at her upper arm to hold her steady.  It was just as well; the numbness had the effect of making her feel like a puddle of water.

She could also feel him pull away.  Replaced with the feeling of cloth at her shoulder.  Elyssa turned to look and found him softly pressing either a handkerchief or a napkin to the wound (for her sanity’s sake, she decided it was the former rather than the latter).

“That didn’t seem like much,” Her speech was a little slurred.

“Do you still wish to fight the bloodfiends while conscious? If so, then this is all you can afford to lose.  You already run the risk of injury on the battlefield.”

He motioned for her to hold the handkerchief there.  “It will stop bleeding in a moment.  How do you feel?”

“Rather nice…” She said with a slightly loopy smile.  But then she frowned. “Am I supposed to find it nice?”

“All vampires have some level of hypnotic ability.  Some use it to effect of creating slavish thralls.  Mostly, I suspect it’s there to ensure that any prey doesn’t try to escape our grasp.  For this reason, I think it tends to show up often in mortals who have been recently fed upon.”

Elyssa thought about Kallin and the almost eager way he introduced himself to her so soon after the Ravenwatch vampires had dined upon him.

“So…do you influence your servants to give you their blood?”

“I do not always willingly inflict this effect, Elyssa.  Think of it more as a side effect than something I always have a conscious command of.  Anyone I feed on could potentially feel like this.”

“But you have some control of your hypnotic ability, don’t you…?”

“I’m not sure what you’re asking of me.  Here.” He gestured for the handkerchief back and for her to fix her outfit.  

“If you’re implying that I somehow force or coerce my servants to give me their blood, the answer is ‘no’.  I made no such demands of them, nor would I need to.  There are plenty of people in Rivenspire of the unsavory variety; bandits, cutthroats, and the like for whom death would be deserving.   So it would be no trouble to us if Kallin should ever wish to seek employment elsewhere.  I would not stop him. Only ask that he keep the secret of our gifts to himself.  Not everyone in Rivenspire knows of our nature.”

She adjusted her dress back to normal after looking at the mark.  The wound had stopped bleeding; only two pinpricks of red against her skin to mark that anything had actually happened.

“I don’t oversee a prison here in my home.”  He said.

With it being so fresh in her mind, it was difficult to keep her thoughts away from her dream; the bleakness of Molag Bal’s domain and how it contrasted with the Count’s own castle.  In spite of the coffins (and questionable décor)….this was practically paradise compared to Coldharbour.

Then again…wasn’t anything paradise compared to that place?

“You should have a few sips of wine.” He said, interrupting her reverie.  

She nodded and took the glass, letting the liquid swirl within before bringing it to her lips.  It was a tad sweet, and something she must have needed because she took in a large gulp of it.

“The numbness is wearing off…” She said, contemplating the glass in her hand. “…And I have to face my dreams once more…I don’t want to go back to sleep and see Duchess Lakana again…”

“The Duchess of Alcaire…I understand that it was you who thwarted the Daedric plot behind her murder.”

“But I couldn’t save her!  She was so….she was so scared. And she said she was all alone there.  The soldiers wouldn’t even allow her to see most of the entourage that came for her from her father.  I said I would help her and then…then…”

She tried not to get too emotional by taking another large gulp of wine “…I should have stayed right next to her instead of running around…”

“We are all bound by our limitations, my child.  In your case, you cannot possibly be everywhere and save everyone all at once…”

“No.  But I could have made sure I brought her murderer to justice…”

She finished the glass and set it back on the table, balling her hands into fists again.

“…I let him go.  He looked so guilty…and his mind had been manipulated by Vaermina…I thought it was the right thing to do.  At least, that’s what I told myself at the time.”

Elyssa looked down at her hands, clenching and unclenching them, staring at them as though she’d hoped they would somehow provide a better thought process.

“Now I’m wondering if I was really right.  The Duke seemed a little bit angry at my decision…”

“He was likely grieving.”

“And the knight in question - the one who killed her? – he himself said that he felt guilty and deserved to die.”

“Those who feel guilt are not always guilty of anything.  And he, as a knight, was likely considering the strained political relations going on within the Covenant.  His duty to preserve the alliance may have weighed heavily on him to the point where he thought sacrificing his life should be a consideration.”

“But he seemed so…I don’t know.  He was acting so normal when I met him; when he supposedly was under Vaermina’s sway.  I have to wonder if he didn’t secretly want the Duchess to die after all…”

“Now you’re being a bit unfair.”

“But…He could have resisted.”  She said, finally.  “He must have been able to resist.  He should have tried.  He was acting so normal most of the time that he had to have some control of his senses. If he had put a little effort into fighting back, maybe she wouldn’t be dead.  Maybe I would have been able to stop him.  Or maybe I wouldn’t have even had to stop him.  If only he’d considered alternatives…He could have just kidnapped her instead, but no.  She just had to die!  He should have been punished for that...He should have died, and I should ha—“

His hand was at her shoulder again, and that numb feeling came back with such a vengeance that she had instantly slumped back into the chair.  Her anxiety laced rambling put to a halt with a slack jaw.

Her breathing steadied.  Her eyelids drooped.  Every muscle in her body had completely and utterly given in to a state of soothing relaxation.  

“Stand up, Elyssa,” he commanded.

A floating, freeing feeling washed over her as she did as she was told.  The room had gotten brighter, the hallway lighting almost dancing in front of her eyes.

“Come with me upstairs,” he commanded again.

And she felt compelled….no, she felt like it was wonderful to move forward.  He followed behind and caught her by her arms to direct her around the dining room table.

They walked, slow and steady.  Elyssa was sure that if she hadn’t been held by the mer behind her that she’d fall flat on her face.  The numbness took all anxiety away….to be replaced completely with contentment and a calm sort of happiness…It was the most relieving feeling in the world.  

“Molag Bal,” He said, “Would certainly love to have you convinced that weakness is a sin.  That people with weaker wills, much like the knight you speak of, deserve to be punished and tortured.”

They began to ascend the stairs, and Elyssa swayed a bit.  She had been trying her best to focus on walking, but the comforting numbness was making her a bit sleepy.  Besides, her feet and legs appeared to find themselves all on their own, without any effort on her part.

In the back of her mind, there was some measure of concern that something was wrong here.  But any attempt at trying to grasp what exactly was amiss slipped right out of her thoughts.  

“But we all have our weaknesses, Elyssa,” Count Verandis continued.  “There is not a person in all of Tamriel who is devoid of them.  For me, it is the sun.  For you?  Right now, it is your generous acceptance of others who are different than you; the trust that you easily form with strangers in spite of how unusual they may be or, in this case, whether or not they are a vampire.  Acceptance and compassion are very much virtues to be exalted, but in the hands of the wrong people they can become weaknesses to be utilized against you.”

They reached the top of the stairs and made their way into the guest parlor.  Each step forwards made her feel like a leaf on the wind; dancing across the floor as though her body was lighter than air.  The furniture danced alongside her, swimming in her vision.  She heard every word that he said (in fact, it held the bulk of her attention, as if she couldn’t ignore him even if she tried), but finding a response was difficult as she couldn’t formulate the thoughts to say anything.      

“I am grateful for your trust, Elyssa.  Far too many have unfairly scorned or judged us for our condition without ever trying to become acquainted with who we are as people.”

He stopped her just as they reached the table.  She frowned with disappointment; she wanted to keep moving around.  It felt nice.  

“However, imagine for a moment,” He whispered lower, closer to her ear. “How disastrous this would be if I had a more destructive desire.  What would happen if we had met on a dark, lonely night and I had no code of conduct to dictate my thirst?  I would beckon you, entrap you just like this.  How easily you would come to me, following me out of sight of any living person who might help you. Can you imagine what I would do then with such a feast all to myself?  This feeling, this enthrallment, would be the last sensation you ever felt; helpless to do anything as I gorged myself on your life’s blood.”

Fingers appeared at her throat, ever so gently pressed against her skin, against the pulse beating there.  And almost automatically, she found she had lifted her chin even more to better allow them.  She felt a tinge of fear break through the numbness; fear of the mer at her back, at the way her own body rebelled against her wishes to expose her own throat… and a growing, frightening consideration at the back of her mind that he might, just might, take the offer.  In spite of whatever he may have said about their feeding habits before.  

“Tell me,” He said, “Many members of my kind would insist that they have the right to feast on mortals because their prey is weaker than them. Would it be just and proper for me to rip your throat out all because you are powerless right now?  Do I have the right to murder you just because I can?  Because I’m stronger?”

A small bubble of panic managed to sober her up enough to try and wiggle free.  But the movement was half-hearted; she still did not feel like she had complete command of her body.  Even though he did not hold her very firmly, her little movements seemed insufficient to loosen his grasp.  Attempting to maneuver limbs felt like trying to wade through dense tar. And as the words died in her throat before they had the chance to pass her lips, she was met with the horrific realization that she was trapped at his whim without so much as the ability to scream.  

She had never been so terrified of him before that moment.

He removed his hand from her throat to grasp both arms in an attempt to hold her steady; her struggling had given her an awfully dangerous sway that threatened to cause her to hit the table.  Or the floor.  Whichever unfortunate hard surface she reached first.

“It’s all right, Elyssa.” He said, his voice kinder. “I give you my word; your life is safe within my home and among myself and my household.  I’ll release you very soon, I promise.  Relax now, or you’ll hurt yourself.”

As if that was also command, a new, fresh wave of numbness and calm settled in, and she felt too exhausted from her last struggle to resist it.  It took over once again, and the world went fuzzy.

“Sit down,” he commanded, releasing his grip on her arms to pull out a chair. And she obeyed, taking the offered seat.

He went to stand before her with crossed arms.  They remained like that for several minutes before she began to notice that she had feeling back in her legs.  The calm was dying down.  Her fingers could twitch at her will.  Her arms now moved unimpeded.  And with her newly re-acquired control of herself, she immediately proceeded to do the thing she wanted to do the most:

Look up and glare at him.

(Punching him was actually the first option, but she was tired and felt that it required more effort than she thought he deserved)

“How are you feeling?” He asked, unphased by her expression.

“Pretty pissed.”

“As well you should be.  But recognize that it is my fault for exerting my power over you.  It is not your fault that you hadn’t the strength to resist back.  You can’t hold yourself responsible for my actions or the actions of any others…Just as you should not hold other people responsible for the actions of Vaermina.”

Her glare lessened as she contemplated this.  “Do you…suppose that was a taste of what Sir Hughes felt?  The same sort of influence he may have been under?”

“I cannot guess what sort of Daedric magic Vaermina used, but I can almost surely guarantee it was potent.”

She was silent for a moment, unsure of how to respond. So she looked down to fiddle with her fingers.

His demonstration made an impression.

“Never doubt that you made the right choice to spare that knight’s life,” He said, softly.  “He was not a cultist, nor did he willingly implore Vaermina for any of this; she forced her influence upon him by taking advantage of the little bits of doubt that we all experience when it comes to change in our lives. No mortal deserves death all because they were weaker than a Daedric Prince.  If we should go by this logic, then all but a potential handful should be summarily executed right here and now.”

“…Yeah.”  Elyssa sighed, avoiding his gaze. “I think a part of me realizes that.  That I don’t actually blame Sir Hughes, I just…”

“…You still feel a little guilty because you happened to be there.  And you’re desperately trying to look for an excuse to assuage that guilt.”

“Yeah,” She winced to hear it aloud, but he had put it very succinctly.

“Her death wasn’t your fault, Elyssa. You cannot hope to control what a Daedric Prince decides to do; you can only hope to try and stop them.  Even then, such foes are so formidable that it isn’t a guarantee that you will be successful.”

He leaned against the table. “I would consider it impressive that you were even able to save the poor soul manipulated by Vaermina.  He may be punished in exile, but that is a far better, far more appropriate fate than what the Daedric Prince of Nightmares had in store for him, I can promise you that.  I don’t think I need to remind you that Daedra often treat mortals as toys, and are known to mercilessly toss aside those that have passed their usefulness.”

“I guess…” She sighed again, gaze transfixed to the floor in front of him.  But then she remembered what had just happened, and she snapped her head back up to glare at him. “I’m still angry at you, though.”

“And I apologize that I frightened you.  I do regret that.  Make no mistake, it is wrong to affect people’s minds in such a way, and I apologize for that as well.  But I thought it would give you some perspective as to what it feels like to be influenced in such a manner.  At the very least, I would hope that it proved to you how difficult it is to escape.”

“How do you escape?”  She had a terrible thought pass through her head about having to face a much more sinister vampire who would use this technique.

“Different strains of vampirism, different capabilities.  But in this particular case, there were several factors working against you.”

He gestured to her.

“First, you had allowed me to feed off of you, which, I believe, actually helps with this.  Second, you trusted me.  At least, enough to stay the night without any discernible fear for your own safety.  I was able to take advantage of that to exert a much more potent sway.  If you recall, you had regained some ability to fight back the moment I lost that trust and started to frighten you.  Unfortunately, you had, by that point, been under my control for a bit too long that it was difficult to break through.”

“So…Feeding, length of time, and trust.  Did I get that correct?”

“For my particular type of vampirism, yes.  You’ll likely meet many others whose abilities operate under a different set of rules.  It does, however, take no small amount of effort to inflict such hypnotic influence, so it is doubtful that you’ll meet very many opponents who would consider using it against you in the heat of battle.”

She nodded.  “That’s comforting a bit…I think.”

Silence settled over them.

This time, it was Verandis who sighed.

“I cannot speak for the Duchess,” he said, “But I am quite familiar with both the High King and his brother, the Duke of Alcaire.  And I can assure you that neither of them would want you to be this distraught over Duchess Lakana’s death.  Especially not to the point where it is affecting your sleep.”

“Yeah, about that.  I still really don’t want to close my eyes.  So do you have anything you need that I can help with?”

“Blood loss and exhaustion doesn’t strike me as a particularly brilliant plan for fighting off blood fiends.”

“I can’t.”  Elyssa stared him straight in the eye, trying to keep the twitching of her mouth from grimacing too much, “I really, really can’t do this.  I can’t go back to sleep right now; it’s just going to be the same nightmare again.  Like it was yesterday.  And the night before that.”

He stared back at her without comment at first, but eventually uncrossed his arms to head towards his alchemical table in the corner.

“How about,” He said, “I brew you a sleeping draught.”

“But—“

“You needn’t drink it if you don’t want to.  But I’ll leave it here with you, just in case.”

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

“Is this going to be like the last potion you made for me, where I wandered about in your memories?”

“No memories.  Just a typical sleeping potion.”

Her nose rankled at the undesirable scents and burning smells that were already coming from the station as he worked.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she said. “I didn’t really mind stepping into your past.  It was kind of fun being someone else, actually.  Just not sure I’d want to do it on a regular basis, because it was also kind of disorienting.”

“Considering everything you’ve told me, I believe we shouldn’t have a repeat of that.  I’m already beginning to regret what little I’ve shown you; I think you have enough worries without me adding more of my own to your pile.”

She could hear sounds of him pouring liquid into a container, and soon enough he approached her with a bottle of something blood red.

He held it out for her and she reached for it, but his grip held fast.

“Please look at me, Elyssa.”

Her blue eyes looked up to find contemplative red.

“Never let Molag Bal win by accepting his ideology,” He said, resolve in his expression. “Believe me when I say, he would cherish such a submission from you.  Weakness is not a sin…and the powerful should always strive to protect, not abuse.  Remember that.”

She nodded slowly in response to the seriousness in his words, and he released the bottle to her grasp.

“….Vampires fall under the realm of Molag Bal, don’t they?” She asked, holding tight to the vial, “To the point where I even heard that Coldharbour is where their souls go when they die.  Is that one of the many reasons why you have an honor code?  Not just to be a good person, but to fight back against him, even if a little bit?”

The flickers of a very sad smile tugged at the edges of his lips.

“…Have a good night, Elyssa.  May your dreams bring you a much-needed and well-deserved rest.”

And with that, he left her to go back downstairs.

She stared at him as he went.  And stared at the potion he left her when he was gone.

After crawling back to the bed, she pulled out the stopper to take a little sniff of the concoction.  It smelled awful, like most potions do.  And she winced as she pulled back to take a tiny taste of it.

Fortunately, the taste wasn’t half as bad as some of the magicka brews she’d had before; this one only had a faint note of rotting eggs and cabbage, instead of an overt one.  That was an improvement.  

After much staring and much consideration, she held her nose and downed the rest of it in one swallow, smacking her lips with a sour expression as she finished.

But the taste lingered, and soon enough she crept out of bed to go back to the parlor. Rustling through the pantry next to the alchemical vials was a bottle of unopened wine.  She silently gave a prayer of thanks to the Divines that bottles of wine were so readily available in a house full of vampires just as she popped out the cork and took a long swing of it to try to drown out the disgusting rotten eggs.

With the taste gone and her thirst satiated, she made her way back to the bedroom.  A wave of dizziness and exhaustion had quickly crept up on her, and she mumbled her discontent under her breath; apparently it was a very, very potent sleeping potion.

Just before she came upon the bed, all the furniture in the room performed perfect backflips.

Her whole world spun around…

…And faded to black.  

#from dusk to dawn

[kirinda-ondo]

So I have some thoughts and feelings about Vishnal Rune Factory

I am aware that approximately two other people besides me care about this, but literally when has it ever stopped me from rambling at length

So basically, I love Vishnal from Rune Factory 4. Like, a lot. I never commit to anyone in farm sims but boy howdy, he managed to hit literally all the criteria I have to be considered a Favorite Character™. He did it so well, in fact, he’s earned a spot alongside characters like Cobalt or Lydia. But like those characters, while there are people who like him, I feel as though he doesn’t get enough credit. The complaints I’ve seen tend to be that he’s boring and that he has the worst proposal event. Hell, one of the first few results from googling him is a thread asking if he’s supposed to be a joke character. While I can see where this sentiment might come from, I’d like to explain the appeal in a lot of the things people find fault in him for (at least for me), and maybe offer a bit of a different perspective, I guess.

If I had to guess where a lot of these problems that people have with him come from, it’s probably the fact that he doesn’t have a lot of lore behind him. To be honest, Vishnal doesn’t really have a whole lot of plot significance. He doesn’t have any direct connection to the capitol of Norad like Arthur or Kiel (via his sister Forte), he’s got nothing to do with the Sechs empire like Doug, and he’s not a guardian like Dylas and Leon. Vishnal, despite working in a castle and serving Ventuswill (who we shall henceforth refer to as Venti), a literal dragon god, is an everyman by comparison. He’s just a guy trying to do his job the best he can.

Similarly, he also doesn’t have a whole lot of mystery or drama behind him either. With pretty much every other bachelor, there’s usually some kind of dark secret from their past that comes up and has to be dealt with, either through the main plot or through their proposal events. To just give you an idea of the kind of things we’re dealing with here, let’s do a rundown.

Doug’s entire tribe was killed by Sechs soldiers, but the empire fed him propaganda to make him believe that Venti was responsible so that he would work undercover for them in order to kill her and take the Rune Spheres.

Arthur was an illegitimate child of Norad’s king and believes that his mother hated him so much she had to take off her glasses so that she didn’t have to look at him, causing him to have severe trust issues (as well as a glasses fetish? Have fun with that, Freud).

Kiel (and by extension, his sister) is trapped in a well-meaning, but incredibly fucked up family dynamic that forced him to be incredibly sheltered while Forte took on the duties of a knight in a heavily male dominated society to protect him. However, since both of their parents are dead, they have no idea that they’re allowed to free themselves and become their own people.

Dylas sacrificed himself to become a guardian, fusing with a monster in order to act as a living life support to help keep Venti alive, but when he’s finally free, he’s hundreds of years into the future, where everything he knows is gone. It’s also implied that before he became a guardian, he was suicidal.

Leon, like Dylas, also sacrificed himself to become a guardian and was flung far into the future. However, he also has the added guilt of believing he left his childhood friend to live the rest of her life emotionally stunted because when he was younger, he made a promise to marry her if she stopped crying so much, but didn’t take it seriously as she did, and couldn’t have kept it even if he did.

Meanwhile, Vishnal has had an utterly average life. In order to help people, he wanted to become a doctor like his father, but felt he wasn’t smart enough, so when he met a butler named Sebastian, he was so impressed he decided to become a butler himself. Though he was worried his father wouldn’t approve of this way of helping people, he was ultimately supportive, helping him train and, through a friend’s connections, getting him to Selphia to work under Volkanon.

Vishnal is basically Clark from Connecticut in terms of how average he is by comparison. However, I wouldn’t say this is a bad thing. Even dealing with one of these traumatic backstories is a lot, let alone trying to harem them all (and don’t even get me started on the main plot’s drama). A lot of the resolutions to these character arcs are followed up by a proposal, and maybe it’s just my age and personal experiences (or the fact that I’m aroace), but when that happens, I don’t get the feeling of “YES, TAKE ME NOW!” I just think “…You literally just found out the thing that’s been screwing you up your entire life was a giant misunderstanding. I get that you’re happy but like, maybe take some time to sort yourself out? See a therapist maybe???”

But Vishnal, for all of his faults (of which there are many and I will get to that later), generally has his shit together. I respect that and find it a breath of fresh air compared to the cavalcade of angst in everyone else’s lives. Not to say that he doesn’t have any problems at all, because then that would be boring, but they tend to be more focused in the present, and are a bit more grounded in reality and less… spectacular. But like I said, we’ll get to that.

What he lacks in terms of dramatic backstory, he makes up for in personality. He’s very… intense, to put it mildly. While not completely hyper, he’s very high energy and it doesn’t take much to get him psyched up. He’s the type of person to put at least 110% effort in everything he does, and nearly everything he does goes towards his goal of becoming the world’s best butler. Unfortunately, as a result, he’s considered one-note. Now, I’m not going to sit here and say he doesn’t talk about butler things all the time, because he absolutely does, but for me, as someone who also tends to get super into things and talk about them endlessly (hence this entire ramble), I find him pretty endearing, if not a tad relatable in that regard. However, for all his single-mindedness, he is still a decently multifaceted character.

Probably the most important thing to note here is that he is a very good person, like “too good for this sinful earth” kind of good. He has a natural drive to help others and doesn’t have a mean word to say about anyone (though even he engages in the ultimate Selphian pastime of Teasing Doug™ on occasion). He’s also honest to a fault. It’s incredibly easy to tell if he’s trying to cover something up because he’s usually pretty much an open book and wears his heart on his sleeve. He seems to expect others to be the same way, as he has a bad habit of taking what people say at face value even if they’ve repeatedly shown not to be trustworthy. This often leads him to be the butt of many a joke or the victim of scams. Other times, lighthearted teasing falls flat as he takes it seriously and winds up getting his feelings hurt. But ever the optimist, he doesn’t let setbacks get him down for long.

He very much believes in the power of hard work overcoming any obstacle, and it seems in his mind, literally anything is possible if you train hard enough, and he’s constantly trying to prepare himself to master every possible scenario, from protecting important secrets by staying silent to becoming invincible to the common cold by constantly being soaked with water. It generally winds up doing him more harm than good, and even Doug worries about him a little bit because Vishnal will do pretty much anything if you tell him it’s special training (though this does not even remotely stop Doug from having a field day with it). Were this not a very “anime” kind of game, it would honestly be amazing if he hadn’t died from any of his training attempts.

Though it may come across as though he has no idea what is actually possible for a human to achieve, he actually seems to have quite a few hangups about his own limitations. He has a massive perfectionist complex and is incredibly hard on himself. He tends to beat himself up quite a bit when he makes mistakes (I mean the man looks utterly devastated every time he screws up lunch) and outright warns the player (who we shall henceforth refer to as Frey) that he may cause her trouble. However, he’s not quite as terrible as he might imply. While he is gullible and very much a klutz, he’s got a wide variety of skills and knowledge he rarely gives himself credit for. For instance, he’s not exactly street smart by any stretch of the imagination, but he’s well-read to a degree that he can actually read things from Arthur’s library (which says a lot because Arthur is a colossal nerd), and he’s knowledgeable on a number of subjects from farming to geography. On the lake date (when it’s not summer), you have the option to ask him more about the kind of training he would do, and he rattles off a list of insane skills (I.e. making tea so good as to become its own singularity…singularitea, if you will) like it’s no big deal. Mind you, given what someone like Volkanon is capable of, that may just be par for the course as far as butlers go in this universe, but for your average person, that’s honestly impressive, if not a bit terrifying.

His confidence (or lack thereof), however, tends to reflect in the quality of his work. In a small example, every so often, he offers Frey his attempt at curry rice. It’s hot garbage, but if she tells him it’s good, he admits he wasn’t very confident in it. However, we see in his prerequisite event (which is a much more overt example) that when he’s more confident in himself, he’s not only able to make actual food, but is downright hypercompetent in his job. For context, he is conned into buying an overpriced statue that, according to blacksmith and Professional Vishnal Scammer™ Bado, will allegedly make him an expert overnight. Wholly believing in this thing, he’s suddenly amazing… until he accidentally knocks it over and breaks it. Utterly devastated and unconvinced that his improved performance came from within, he’s suddenly infinitely worse than he was when he started. Things of course balance themselves out, but we come away realizing that if he had as much self-confidence as he did pure determination, he could easily reach a point where he’d be absolutely unstoppable.

We also see this lack of confidence manifest itself in regards to Frey. If she pursues a relationship, we get quite a bit of evidence that he doesn’t think he’s good enough for her. Before he formally asks her out, he lists all the things he does wrong; all the ways he’s a novice, essentially warning her of what she may have to deal with. However, if Frey’s conquered the RNG and made it this far, then it’s safe to say that she’s prepared to take the risk. On the airship date, he outright says once he becomes an expert, he’ll finally be the perfect man for her. Even during his own damn proposal event, he tells her he’s unreliable. This is incredibly far from the case, as even if he doesn’t really know what he’s doing, he’s doing everything he can to make this work. He works himself even harder to maximize his time with her, he buys (phony) charms from Bado to keep them together, he asks other bachelors for advice (as poor is it may be at times), he literally asks the entire town for date spot reviews, as well as just straight up reading up on how to be the best possible boyfriend.

Eventually, should the RNG gods be smiling, this brings us to the proposal event. Now, one might imagine that this event might follow the thread we’ve been building up here into him learning maybe not to beat himself up so much or becoming a little more self-confident, but no. While this sort of thing happens for a number of other bachelors/bachelorettes, where their prerequisite events foreshadow what’s to come in their proposal events, that isn’t quite the case here. While that development does occur to a degree, it’s a bit more subtle and is not really the focus of this event.

His proposal event instead mainly forces him to consider his priorities. So for some context, a butler judge has come, and if Vishnal does well, he may finally earn his first star and be one step closer to being the ultimate butler. In fact, his abilities are already recognized as worthy of the title, but there’s just once teensy little problem. You see, in butlerdom, your master and your partner being one in the same is a bit of a taboo. Dating your boss creates a whole host of problems, after all; not just for you, but your reputation. And so this is where the conundrum comes in. We already know he’s incredibly dedicated to this career choice to the point that if he doesn’t succeed, he will literally die trying, but he’s now just as dedicated to Frey. Being that this is a proposal event though, you pretty much already know how this is going to end, but just hear me out.

This is currently the biggest decision he’s ever made in his life, and is essentially the emotional equivalent of having to choose between losing your right hand or your left. He obviously doesn’t want to throw away years of hard work, but he’s also not the type to just leave someone behind in pursuit of his own interests. Frey ultimately saves him from waffling back and forth about it forever by breaking things off so he can pursue his dreams, but literally no one is happy with this. Even the judge feels bad and he’s the one who started it. But with this little problem out of the way, Vishnal is free to accept his new rank. Except he doesn’t. After a dramatic, heartfelt speech pointing out that this actually puts him in a better position to serve Frey, and how reputations shouldn’t matter more than protecting the person you’re entrusted to, he whisks her away and proposes. Before she can properly answer though, he’s called back to the castle. In the end, the judge is moved by his dedication, and so Vishnal can now have his cake and eat it too. Short, sweet, and to the point.

It’s probably about half the length of the other bachelors’ events, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s bad. It’s actually a pretty nice contrast between the other proposals. Leon, Arthur, and Kiel have the common thread of having to sort out baggage from their past before they decide to marry. Doug and Dylas, while their events are more lighthearted, are a bit more focused on a lack of communication and resulting misunderstandings that come from trying to surprise Frey with a ring. However, because Vishnal’s life isn’t a veritable conga line of angst and trauma, his obstacle to marriage is entirely in the present, and because he’s so open about his feelings, he and Frey actually have a chance to sit down and discuss where to go from here, so there’s no communication issues. Plus, his situation, while a bit dramatically handled because anime, is actually kind of relatable. Having to choose between a career and a relationship is a situation that happens to a pretty good number of people, and it’s rarely an easy decision. It’s a logical conflict for such a work focused character.

While it doesn’t really overtly follow up on the initial thread that seemed to have been laid out of him learning to be more confident in himself, the transition is definitely there, at least in regards to Frey. It’s just not quite as spelled out in events. Even in his proposal, he’s still self-deprecating, but it’s a far cry from the absolute list of faults he gave initially asking her out. Not to mention, it absolutely takes a whole lot of courage to one, choose love over your life’s dream, and two, to do it in the incredibly dramatic and utterly obliterating manner that he did. The relationship also changes some post-marriage. Post-marriage Vishnal is a much different beast than pre-marriage Vishnal. As we’ve discussed, in the dating phase, he’s a lot less sure of how boyfriend things work, and resorts to asking others for advice and outright studying. Now that he’s married, he’s less reliant on others and is much more forward. He actually tends to be the one to initiate romantic gestures, from goodnight kisses to using his own sappy lines as opposed to borrowing them from Leon, among other things. Truly a far cry from the days where he would agonize over whether or not to even hold Frey’s hand. Sadly, while date dialogue doesn’t really change (with the exception of the room date, where he literally states he’s past being shy and awkward), there’s definitely a more visible shift in the focus of his other dialogue from being even good enough for Frey to being more protective. Jury’s still out on how much this development has affected his work performance, as there’s no real new mentions of it after the fact (though after marriage he is finally capable of making edible curry rice…sometimes!), but at least some degree of his self-esteem is improving.

So basically, to summarize, Vishnal isn’t a bad character. He’s just handled differently than the other bachelors. He’s a bit more grounded in reality as far as his backstory and conflicts are concerned. His development also tends to happen outside of his events rather than being the feature, making it a bit more subtle, and thus a bit harder to spot from a glance, but it’s there. For as much fun as he is as a character, I admit he’s definitely very tame compared to the other bachelor options, even despite the localizers’ attempts to make him spicier, so he’s not for everyone. I can see why others might prefer someone a little more exciting or mysterious, like Leon (who seems to be like, god tier as far as RF4 bachelors go), but I hope I’ve at least adequately explained why Vishnal might be appealing to some and has more merit than just a joke character. After all, vanilla is a flavor too, and plenty of people like that.

Anyhoo, thanks for coming to my TED talk.

#kateh rambles #i know readmores don't usually work on mobile so like RIP to your dash i guess #long post #kateh's rf4 tag

[dingberg]

Hey, I was wondering if the characters you make are for your own campaigns, or campaigns you play in. You inspire me to create my own unique characters and I was wondering if you had any tips on how to incorporate "complex characters" into a campaign. I feel like I'd just get on the DM's/Player's nerves...

First off, thanks for being the first person to ever send me an ask on here, lol. And you have no idea how happy I am to hear that I inspire you in any way, let alone to make your own characters and go above and beyond the call of duty with them. Apologies in advance for the massive response. I can be an extremely long-winded person when it comes to things I’m passionate about.

Anyway, all the characters I’ve made for D&D have been for player roles…never been a DM myself (but maybe some day). Unfortunately, your fears about getting on the DM’s / other player’s nerves by playing weird, complicated characters aren’t exactly unfounded. The DMs I’ve played with could talk your ear off with stories about the difficulties they’ve had dealing with my shenanigans. But despite all the trouble I cause, the DMs and players I’ve played with still really enjoy playing with me and love my characters (or at least that’s what they tell me). Here’s what I’ve learned from my experiences as far as your concerns of being able to flex your creative muscles and still get along with the other people who have to put up with you. These rules apply to any situation, but they go double for playing weird characters.

Rule #1: COMMUNICATE WITH YOUR FELLOW PLAYERS AND ESPECIALLY WITH YOUR DM.

This is probably the most important rule. It’s essential that you learn what the people you’re playing with are and are not ok with and to make sure you’re all on the same page. Because playing a nonstandard character not only puts added challenge on yourself, but on everyone else that has to play around you as well. So make sure your fellow players and especially the DM know exactly what they’re in for with your character and that they’re completely ok with it before committing to anything. And be willing to make concessions for them as well if they’re not comfortable with anything. Sometimes people will be apprehensive to go along with something they’re not used to, especially if they don’t have much reason to trust you won’t screw it up or do it for the wrong reasons. And there are things you can do to help ease those fears, but don’t push too hard, especially on your first time with a group.

The first proper campaign I was ever in, my DM wanted to limit it to only human characters for the first go around because most of us were inexperienced and he didn’t want to take any chances. But I wasn’t really too interested in the setting and felt I needed something to anchor my interest. I was really interested in homebrewing (still am) and had a slime character (Chu) who I designed for another non-D&D project but unfortunately got left on the cutting room floor, so I wanted to give her a chance to shine in this new setting. I don’t necessarily recommend anyone going this ham on their first campaign, but I’d been writing and designing characters for years before I picked up D&D, so I felt pretty confident that I could pull it off.

I knew homebrewing a completely custom race on my first campaign was definitely going to raise a lot of red flags, so I wanted to make things as easy as possible for the DM and help him feel comfortable that I knew what I was doing before asking him to trust me. I first asked what the setting was and made sure this character would actually fit naturally without compromising what the DM had already set up. Then I thoroughly studied the guidebook for the system and setting we were playing in and wrote up an entire guide going through every aspect of how this character would function both in terms of mechanics and lore (which years later turned into my Slime Guide that I’ve posted here). Then I pitched it to the DM to see if he’d even be ok with the idea, then sat down with him to go over my guidebook together and figure out what needed to be changed or rebalanced. When that was all approved, I talked to the other players and told them what I had in mind and asked if they were all cool with it, which they were. So we went ahead with it and we all had a blast with that campaign (literally…a lot of stuff blew up, my poor slime girl was traumatized).

You don’t necessarily have to go to such extreme lengths yourself, but just communicate with the others, make sure they’re ok with what you want to do before you do it, and be willing to make concessions and work with them to make sure everyone’s happy, because D&D is a collaborative effort and it’s not very fun for anyone if some people aren’t having a good time.

Rule #2: Try to put as much of the strain of dealing with your character on yourself and not on other people as possible.

Coordinate with the DM and the other players to figure out what their general plans are. Make sure you’ve got a character that will logically fit in with the party and the world they’ll be adventuring in, and will at least mostly get along with their fellow party members. Nobody wants to have to play babysitter and hold up the adventure or force their characters or world to behave in a way that’s unnatural or metagame-y to try to come up with some reason for the one character who doesn’t gel with anyone or make sense as a member of the party to not just follow the logical path and split from the party. Don’t be afraid to let your characters fight and have disagreements with other player characters here and there, but your characters should always have something that makes them fit into the party naturally and binds them with their fellow adventurers enough to overcome almost any fight or disagreement. Hell, I’ve had multiple situations where my character had a falling out with the party and almost left. But I always have at least one thread that will bring my character back on their own in case the rest of the party doesn’t naturally bring my character back themselves. Never put the onus on the DM or other players to keep your character in the party unless you’re prepared to lose that character.

Similarly, you don’t wanna play a character that’s just not going to fit in with the setting and will ruin the immersion for everyone. If you want to play a cyborg in a medieval fantasy setting, you need to have a good reason for it that everyone else is completely on board with. If your party is on a grand quest to help the local dwarf community raise money to build an orphanage, it’s probably not a good idea to play a character who despises dwarves and/or children. And if you want to play as a monster character in a setting where the average person is hostile towards monsters, your fellow players had better be playing some pretty chill dudes, and your character had better have some way to pass the time they’ll spend sitting out in the woods while the rest of the party heads into town to get supplies unless you’re real good at disguising your monstrousness or think you can outrun the crowds armed with torches and pitchforks (this actually happened to one of my characters, fun times).

Rule #3: Just follow basic etiquette and have fun.

It’s alright to make mistakes and accidentally step on someone’s toes every now and then. It happens to the best of us. Just establish at the outset that you first and foremost just want to have a good time with everyone and get along. Clearly establish your own boundaries from the start and respect other people’s. Make it clear that you’re willing to listen to complaints and concerns and work with people to resolve them before they get out of control, and absolutely make sure you behave in a way that people will be comfortable with bringing this stuff up to you and talking about it without fear of hurting your feelings or causing a negative reaction.

Basically, as long as you consider the feelings of your fellow players and DMs, do a good job of communicating, and make sure everyone is on the same page as far as boundaries and what they want out of the experience, you’re gonna be solid. Because even if you do screw something up, everyone should understand that it was just an honest mistake and know that you’ll learn from that mistake and fix it for next time.

It’s all about building trust (giving and receiving). Because people who trust that you know what you’re doing and have the best intentions in mind are gonna be a lot more willing to let you try out your crazy ideas and play along with them. I almost exclusively play weird, nonstandard characters and early on, every character I pitched was met with an exasperated “Oh my god, why do you do this to me?” from my main DM. But I consistently followed these rules, proved that I know how to make and play fun characters that have a positive impact on the campaigns they’re in, and built up that trust with my group. And now everyone has a blast playing with me and interacting with my characters. I’ve even inspired some of my friends to flex their creativity and delve into the weirder side of character creation.

Sorry again for the light novel, lol. I hope this helped you and anyone else that took the time to read all this. And I’m always open to answer questions!

#ask #advice #dnd #dnd character #d&d #d&d character