#ill draw a more coherent and complicated drawing in a bit but i had to fucking speedrun this wTF HE'S CANON

[un-pearable]

ok finished s2. thoughts:

number 1. zayne, lloyd, and garmedon definitely the lineup of favorite characters.

number 2. i hate. i hate misako. i hate her. i really hope she either a) gets some massive character development or b) never shows up in a relevant capacity again

^ some snippets of my anger

number 3. lloyd deserves a break. please. please give him a break for five minutes let him win sometimes im not asking for much. pretty much all he did this season was lose.

number 4. much to my unsurprise i think i am a little bit deranged abt lloyd & garmadon. maybe later ill be able to string a coherent thought together but like man garmadon loved his son so much he literally overrode his more or less preprogrammed nature . head in hands . like the whole thing they had going on this season where they just . Really Do Not Want To Fight bc they love each other so much even though theyre destined to or whatever. like YES YES YESSSS i LOVE stories where the characters fight so bitterly against the fate the author has chosen for them.

number 5.

obsessed with this zayne outfit he looks like a middle aged barbeque dad

number 6. very glad to see dareth again after so many years. hes iconic hes a legend he is the moment

number 7. mentally i am not prepared for the cole/naya/jay love triangle that i distantly recall being a thing that i believe is coming up sometime in the possibly near future but at least itll never be weirder than whatever the heck was going on this season between misako and wu. i had completely forgotten that subplot was a thing and was taken so offguard when it came up

so yeah overall im having a very fun time and i am terribly excited to continue. for next season, i sincerely hope misako either gets her act together or stops being relevant, i want to see more stupid team bonding shenanigans, i desperately want some more of garmedon & lloyd, and also i would really like to see some more relationship development between various pairs of the crew. also also prayer circle that zayne does some more stuff this season 🙏 also also also. more alternate outfits please and thank you

1. your taste is impeccable 🤝

2.

little miss child abandonment why are you here. literally every plotline about you would be improved if lloyd had the complicated feelings he rightfully should

3. HE DOES HE DOES where’s that tweet from the show runner saying he was made for suffering. this kid deserves the world and a push pop and all he gets is a tetris game of trauma

4. would be THRILLED to hear your thoughts about them bc i too am incredibly deranged about them and you always have The takes of all time. what a fuckin stunning dynamic for a show that’s such a delightful mess

5. zane rights to be Just Some Guy. i Need to draw this now i can’t get that description out of my head agdhfjfj

6. dareth. king of bit characters. the only ninja i respect. he only gets better and i’m thrilled that i can say that genuinely

7. AGSHDJ YEAH. the love triangle is so awkward i will remember it all my days. misako and wu? so bad i forgot it ever happened bc it annoyed me that much.

heck yeah!!!! thankfully they do flesh out more the of the less focused dynamics in the new few seasons but Oh are you in for an experience,,, tysm for the update i’m on the edge of my seat.

#YOU. YOU ARE DEFINITELY IN FOR *SOMETHING* #zane DOES get to do more. i promise. i am still in pain a decade later bc of it #i love s2 so much as a concept…. guys who saved the country live in a 1 bedroom apt and train The Chosen One #is a goddamn hilarious concept i wish it was utilized to its full potential #text✨ #ninjago #extremely extremely sorry people are rbing this i should really figure out how the restrict stuff works #tysm for sharing with me though!!! sry #liveninjablogging

[southern--downpour]

logan angry moments

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #logan sanders #tssides #tss logan #HEY THOMAS? WTF??? #sorry to my dsmp folowers & mutuals but i must return to my roots #hIM #also gonna hyperfixate on that one (1) scene of virgil for like. the next few months until the next tssides #ill draw a more coherent and complicated drawing in a bit but i had to fucking speedrun this wTF HE'S CANON? ORANGE LOGAN CANON? WHAT #virgil arts #ts spoilers

[sneverussape]

leaving is the loudest

one-shot, 2300+ words. purely because i couldn’t get this drawing out of my head. it was originally supposed to be a two-shot, with the second part focusing on severus losing tobias and essentially having the tables turned from this one. but...i got tired. heh.  cw: abuse, parent death, toxic parent-child relationship summary: abraxas malfoy dies when lucius is 16. severus is the sole witness to lucius’ complicated grief. 

--

He was running but he wasn’t alone. “Snape!” Lucius thundered as he faced down the boy who had halted in his tracks as soon as he whirled around in mid-step. It was November and the grounds were near-frozen, and the scrawny second-year was following him like a shadow across the Great Lawn. He was also wearing the coat Lucius had given him just two weeks ago – it wasn’t charity, it was merely a necessity since Lucius had recently discovered that Severus’ own coat was more than a bit threadbare and barely able to keep out the elements; he had no desire for the boy to get pneumonia before the term was even over – and scowling in a manner that would have made milk curdle. “What do you think you’re doing? Get back inside!” “Malfoy!” the boy shot back with equal ire, his face pale and pinched under the moonlight. “Where are you going? After Professor Slughorn met with you three days ago you’ve been disappearing for all hours! What’s the matter with you?” There was a thread of something like worry in his tone but it disappeared fast enough that Lucius could have thought he had imagined it. Severus was not done with his litany, at any rate. “You’re my assigned prefect, mind! I’ve had to go round the corridors the long way to avoid Potter, and we’ve a schedule for French and Defense Against the Dark Arts revisions tonight! Plus you said you’d show me that book of poisons your aunt gave you. You promised!” Blast. He was right. But Lucius was not in a tolerant mood tonight. Those could wait. “Get back into the school, Severus, and leave me be,” Lucius said, hoping the use of the boy’s first name would make him obey without him having to resort to any hexing, and he would if pushed. He doubled down with a threat: “I will remove House points if you continue in this fashion.” Severus snorted, crossing his arms. Lucius’ coat was two sizes too big for him but he remained unbothered and wore it with ease, folding the sleeves so his hands could at least still be visible and utilized easily. “As if you would and even if you did, as if I would care,” he challenged Lucius with a glint in his eye. “Besides, you’re the one skipping on supper to go off on this moonlight stroll. Reckon that’s already earned us enough demerits as it is.” “Get back inside, now.” “No. Not until you tell me what’s going on.” Lucius bristled as his temper flared, rendering him warm despite the frigid night air. He had not counted on this intrusion to what he had hoped would have been a strictly private affair – if he had been planning to stomp off into some hidden corner to shout, cry, or blast an unknowing tree into bits of bark while everyone else had been seemingly occupied with the evening meal then that was between him and him alone. He, of course, had not counted on Severus Snape to notice his departure from the Great Hall, let alone follow him. He didn’t even know how Severus had slipped out himself, with the second-years so near to the staff table, but he knew better than to underestimate the boy’s talents, as everyone else was wont to do. “I’m warning you.” Lucius was already fingering his wand in preparation to strike. He didn’t want to hurt the boy, but it seemed he had little choice. He wouldn’t make it bleed too badly, at any rate. “You have one more chance to turn around and return to the cast—" Something inside of him seemed to snap with such suddenness and ferocity that he gasped and dropped to his knees on the damp grass. Despite being frozen in his spot, he felt as though he had been submerged in ice-cold water, and the Malfoy signet ring he usually wore on his right hand burned with a heat that had him clutching at his wrist. The pain vanished in a span of seconds, but a cloying emptiness where there had once been the familiar, if not tenuous, connection to his father had enveloped him thick enough to smother, and Lucius let out a strangled breath, feeling as though he had been left untethered in the middle of a raging sea. He could barely hear Severus’ voice over the roar in his ears. “—Lucius, oh my God, get up, please! What’s wrong? Are you all right? Fuck, I’ll have to call Madame Pomfrey!” He reached out and snatched Severus’ wrist before the boy was able to run back to the castle. The last thing he needed now was an audience. “No,” he commanded through gritted teeth. “For Merlin’s sake, Severus—” “What’s wrong with you?!” Severus demanded, his tone high-pitched with fright. He shook Lucius’ shoulders. For such a scrawny whelp, he was irritatingly strong. “Malfoy, please talk to me. Are you all right? Did you take anything? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me!” Despite the intense emotions that were already threatening to swallow him whole, Lucius nearly laughed at Severus’ boldness. “You can’t help!” he snapped, determined to put the boy in his place. No matter Severus’ intentions, there were some things he was loathe to explain to him. “But if you go to Pomfrey or any of the professors right now, I swear to Merlin will hex you into next week and I can assure you Sluggy will do nothing in your defense if I do. I mean it, Snape.” “Are you even listening to yourself? I’m not the one kneeling on the ground right now—” “My father’s died. Just now.” Lucius felt wooden speaking the words, and it was as though he was hearing them being spoken from a stranger’s mouth. “He’d been taken ill a few days ago and it was quite serious. But now he’s gone. I…I felt it.” Severus gaped at him for all of two seconds before nodding very solemnly. “I’m sorry,” he said, suddenly looking very young. “Malf—Lucius. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” “Don’t apologize, would you?” Lucius snarled. “You didn’t create the ruddy pox that took him. And you hadn’t known him either, so his loss has no real effect on your existence.” Two red spots appeared in the boy’s cheeks. “I was being polite. You don’t have to be such a right bastard about it,” he said through gritted teeth. “He is…was your father. You’re my…mate…prefect...something, I don’t know. God.” Severus mumbled the words before he blew out a breath. When he next spoke, it was tentative: “What…what now, then?” Lucius was surprised that the boy even had to ask, but he remembered that Severus wasn’t a pureblood. Of course he wouldn’t know. He inwardly groaned as he willed himself to be patient enough to answer coherently. “My father’s death,” he released a shuddering breath, “automatically makes me the head of the family. Hogwarts will likely receive the missive announcing it before tonight’s end. I expect that I shall have to go to Wiltshire tomorrow to attend to those matters as well as his burial. He’ll have to be buried beside my mother…” The magnitude of the change that would be brought about by his father’s death slowly sank in: the Gringotts accounts. Their properties. The hidden cache of Dark Arts tokens in his father’s study. The changing of the magical signatures. The wards. The updating of blood contracts. The expectations. And as the new pater familias he would have to grow out his hair now…Merlin and Circe, he had just turned 16 just that September! And now he was an orphan…. Lucius buried his head in his hands, the yawning emptiness inside of him like a chasm he wanted to throw himself into. When he felt the hand on his shoulder, he flinched away automatically, half-expecting it to be his father’s touch. A bitter taste crept up the back of his throat when he remembered that the last encounter he had had with Abraxas Malfoy was the tirade he had been subjected to on the day before leaving for Hogwarts; it had been a long one about failure and ineptitude despite his outstanding O.W.L.S., and how his poor mother had died in childbirth for naught, but Lucius had only half-listened. He was used to that type of treatment; any spare moments between him and Abraxas had always been filled with his father’s constant vitriol, the cycle only broken by the rare occasions of doting whenever he was in a generous mood, or when he remembered and wanted to drive home that their family now consisted of just the two of them. His father had demanded for his only son’s respect and loyalty, despite having wielded words as weapons and throwing them at him with startling aim, and Lucius had loved him enough to let all his attacks, unprecedented or otherwise, be met with silence. But now…the thought of arriving at an empty manor terrified Lucius. His father had always been such an imposing and terrifying figure in his life that the full realization of his loss paralyzed him. He did not know how he could possibly move forward. He did not know how to come to terms with a silence that should have been his father’s to fill. “I’m sorry.” Severus said again, although Lucius wasn’t sure exactly what he was apologizing for. His hand landed with uncharacteristic gentleness on Lucius’ shoulder, and this time, Lucius didn’t flinch. He heard the grass beside him rustle as Severus sat down. “You’re missing supper,” Lucius stated, his prefect instincts overriding his current emotional turmoil. It was no secret to him that, besides Potions and spells practice, mealtimes were Severus’ favorite times of the day. The boy never missed a meal if he could help it, and he’d be damned if the brat lost weight while at school, on his account no less. Narcissa would kill them both.  “I know the way to the kitchens. Hogwarts will at least never let me starve,” Severus scoffed in reply, defiance edging his tone. Lucius sighed. He knew what Severus was doing; the boy was as subtle as a rhinoceros set loose in an apothecary. “Snape, you don’t have to—” “Malfoy,” Severus interrupted, and Lucius could already imagine him sneering. “You don’t have to talk about it, but I’m not leaving you here, all right? Stop being such a thick, stubborn git.” “I’m the prefect, mind you. You’re not allowed to make concessions.” “Yeah, and you’re a bloody numpty too, I can tell you that, sitting here in the freezing cold.” “You’re a child.” “So are you if we’re going by technical terms.” “For all intents and purposes, my being Lord Malfoy now makes me an official adult.” “You don’t even know how to pay your bloody taxes, you pureblood ponce.” “Ha!” Lucius felt strangely triumphant, and the reply came before he could restrain himself. “I’ll have you know that my father taught me well in that regard. Handling an estate or several isn’t one for the weak-hearted.” Severus looked slightly impressed although he tried not to show it. Talking about their families’ personal matters was not a popular topic in Slytherin house. For the most part, they knew where each family stood with regard to the Dark Lord, and the inherent closeness those relationships bred entailed that they were also quite knowledgeable of how everyone else’s fathers and mothers were like behind closed doors. The occasional halfblood or Muggleborn that managed to get sorted into Slytherin however was often a challenge they had to contend with, but Severus had always been a quick study. “You loved him then? Your father?” he asked, clever enough to steer clear from the labels of ‘good’ and ‘evil’ that more simple-minded folk tended to veer towards, but also sufficiently impertinent enough to bring up a concept that Lucius felt was a cauldron fit to explode. Love…was a strange emotion to attribute to his father, and he would be lying if he said that Severus’ words didn’t make Lucius feel as though he had been kicked in the throat. “He was my father. Of course I…” Lucius paused as the words caught on his tongue. He all at once felt humiliated, enraged, and confused at the realization that his father could still manage to reduce him to such a state of speechlessness. What Severus had asked shouldn’t have been a difficult question, and yet it clearly was. “He was the only one I had left in the world after Maman died,” he finally said, attempting to put into words the turbulent emotions that warred within him. “I…cared for him a great deal. I gave him nothing less than what he asked for…what he expected. I’m…grateful…to have been his son. To be a Malfoy.” He saw a knowing gleam in Severus’ eyes and was grateful when the boy kept his mouth shut. His chest felt tight and he wondered for a moment if his heart was still beating…if his father had not, in fact, stolen it away in his final moments. Lucius would not have been surprised if he had. It seemed, after all, that Abraxas Malfoy had taken everything else upon his leaving, even those that Lucius had never thought he had been willing to give. The silence in the wake of his father’s final departure was deafening, and Lucius covered his hands with his ears. “It will be all right,” he heard Severus say, his voice soft and muffled. A warm weight flitted over his shoulders and Lucius quickly realized the boy had transfigured his coat into a large blanket and had wrapped it around him. He didn’t bother to protest. “You’re all right.” He wasn’t, and he wouldn’t be, not for a long time, but Lucius’ eyes stayed strangely dry nevertheless as he leaned into Severus’ comforting warmth. .

#young slytherins #definitely not snucius as snape is too young #but it's a picture of a complex friendship #snape #lucius malfoy #my fic #hp

[bodytoflame-ao3]

61 wlw percabeth, please!

*chefs kiss*

61. hands on the other person’s back, fingertips pressing under their top, drawing gentle circles against that small strip of bare skin that make them break the kiss with a gasp

Read on AO3

i spent this year as a ghostand i'm not sure where home is anymore

came out swinging ..//.. the wonder years

Annabeth has her pressed up against the wall in the halls of the Argo II and her brain is going haywire. It’s unlike her, but there’s little to dwell on (that her mind wants to visit). She’s rough, but slow, her hands tangled in Percy’s hair. Her lips move against Percy’s, forceful but full of calculated indolence, and it feels so foreign coming from the girl who feels like home. Of course she loves kissing Annabeth, but these aren’t the kisses she’s used to; Annabeth was lazy, and sweet, and definitely not the type to be carelessly grazing her teeth against Percy’s lower lip.

She’s been like this since they got back. And honestly, who would blame her? Percy couldn’t. She couldn’t even sleep without hearing Annabeth breathing next to her. It wasn’t good sleep, she’d probably gotten less than her recommended 8 hours in the past week combined, but it was better than waking up after 5 measly minutes in a cold sweat and crying out for her. This way, they were together, just like they promised.

Even though Percy knows it’s the unaddressed trauma and desperation talking, the idea of Annabeth pinning her to the wall and kissing her until she forgets her own name consumes her. So, she tries. Tries to forget the pain and focuses instead on the desire inherent in Annabeth’s eyes; remembering what it looks like when she cracks a devious smile and drags her off to a corner. They’ll have to face what happened eventually. But not today.

Annabeth breaks their kiss, catching her ragged breath. Her hands glide down, rolling off Percy’s shoulders and skimming her waist. She steps in even closer, fitting so perfectly in their embrace, bodies pressed together with no space in between. Her wide grey eyes lock with Percy’s, “I’m never leaving you. You’re stuck with me forever.”

Percy doesn’t know how to respond, other than a probably ill-informed I’ll follow you anywhere, so she just says, “I’m here.”

“I love you.” Annabeth buries her head in Percy’s shoulder. She can tell she’s holding back tears. It’s the third time she’s said it this week, but it’s less desperate than before; an affirmation, not a desperate attempt to hold onto some semblance of normalcy. It gives her hope that things will keep getting better, and maybe Annabeth will be able to kiss her without it being a means to feel numb.

Percy threads her fingers into her tousled curls (she’s finally looking like herself again), holds her close, and whispers, “I love you, Annabeth Chase.” It’s a declaration, and a promise.

Annabeth lets out a light sigh, and captures her lips again, this time, with focus and devotion. It’s more tender, and Percy’s glad. They get a little bit better everyday. She kisses Percy like it’s the only thing she wants — no, knows — how to do. Creating space between them, her hands run across Percy’s stomach and sides over her t-shirt, the kind of needy touch she’s become accustomed to in the past few weeks. Fingers dance around the hem of the orange fabric, slipping just under it.

She wraps her hands around Percy, ghosting over the small of her back. It’s the most surface level contact, barely brushing over the skin. Even so, her touch lights the spot on fire; something Percy hasn’t felt since she first revealed it to her. Percy can’t hold back a sharp gasp, the heat washing over her body. Suddenly overwhelmed by her senses, she jolts upright, breaking the kiss and bracing herself with her hands on Annabeth’s shoulders. It feels like electricity coursing through her veins.

“What’s wrong?”

“You — it…” she struggles, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone explain.

“You forget to breathe, Seaweed Brain?” she chuckles, adjusting her grip and brushing over the spot again.

She’s going to melt. “No, I… your hands. That’s where my—”

“Oh my gods,” Annabeth actually laughs at her. As embarrassed as Percy is about her reaction… it’s good to hear that sound again. It’s been a long time. “Does that seriously turn you on?”

The blush rises so intensely she can feel the tips of her ears heat up. Although she hates to admit it to herself… kind of, in a surreal sort of way. Her defensive answer comes a bit too late: “What? No!”

“Oh,” she sees right through it, “it does…”

It's the most normal conversation they've had in weeks. Annabeth’s making lazy circles around the small of her back, eyes locked on Percy's. She can feel her grip on the floor slip a little, struggling to keep her body from melting. It isn't like she's ever been normal, but evidently, she was cursed with a normal teenage brain; she desperately wants Annabeth to keep talking to her like this, to continue trailing her hands up her back just so she can hold her as close as humanly possible. Her rational side, the one that keeps her wits about her in battle, knows better. What she wouldn't give to have things go back to the way they were last summer, when they were seventeen, and figuring it out together. Now, every step she takes with Annabeth is its own battle. The second night back, all Annabeth wanted to do was kiss her for hours. "Well, if we can't sleep…” Percy almost felt wrong, like she was taking advantage of her, even though she knew she was just as broken herself. She hates that even thinking about something more sends her mind into a downward spiral. There’s too many things that are too complicated for them to just be normal, stupid, teenagers. It’s not fair. They’re scarred, and although the physical marks have started to fade as the days turn into weeks, she knows there’s some trauma that’s never going to leave them. But, oh, does she want to fall into bed with her, if only for a moment, to make her forget. To be the ones in control of the bruises peppering their bodies for once.

Percy’s silence is telling. Softness creeps back into Annabeth’s voice. “Is this too much?”

Yes. No. The truth? “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

“You saw what I can do!”

Annabeth doesn't flinch, doesn't take a step back, doesn't even blink. She simply brings her hands up to Percy's face and says, “You wouldn’t. I know you," like it's the only thing she's ever been sure of. She believes it. Percy doesn't.

“You know I love you.” She does. So much. “But you know as well as I do that we’re not okay right now.”

“I know,” she says, quiet and still. “I just need you to kiss me like we are.” There it is. In her own words, what Percy’s seen in her since they got back.

“We will be. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but…”

“We're going to have to talk about this, aren't we?” Annabeth asks. She shuffles, looking down; anything to avoid the truth.

Percy nods. “Eventually.”

Not today. “For now, can you just kiss me again?”

Percy shakes her head softly and rolls her eyes, lifting her into her arms, causing a squeal from Annabeth. Their lips meet, and Annabeth relaxes, letting her arms drape over Percy's shoulders, and wrapping her legs around her. Struck by an idea, she digs her heel into the spot, practically giggling against Percy's lips as she tenses up.

She's cruel. “I’m gonna regret this, aren’t I?”

“Probably,” she shrugs, “But I’m going to enjoy it.”

#prompt fill #fic #~1k words #displayheartcode #annabeth chase #pjo #fem!percy jackson #fem!percy #wlw percabeth #made

[naernon]

for the ask meme (TES, obvs): 3,9, 13 (for naemon), 23!

thank you!! i wrote this all last night and i havent checked for coherency or errors so forgive me if it’s a bit scatterbrained at times (although yall should be used to incoherency coming from me ghhgfg.)

____

3.) Have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion?

someone said that they didn’t like serana and i was already sitting on the decision to unfollow them for other reasons and that. that was just the Final Straw.

but i think that’s it…? im so petty + impulsive (deadly combo) at times that maybe i did unfollow over a TES opinion another time but i can’t remember hgufuhfhxdfh

____

9.) Most disliked character(s)? Why?

OOF this is a hard one, ill list the ones that come to mind rn;

molag bal. needs no explanation

darren guitar or whatever his name is. im sorry to anyone who likes him but i just.. can’t. he’s so obnoxious. he was toned down in summerset, probably because different people were writing him if i had to guess but in the main and daggerfall covenant questline? awful. his goddamn womanizing jokes at every second of the day was “kim, there’s people that are dying” at its finest.literally one or two “haha ladies amirite fellow man ;)/haha ladies amirite……… lady ;)” jokes can be.. bearable albeit still annoying but there was so much more than that. or they were so obnoxiously written that it seemed to be more frequent than in actuality, either way, darren guitar? 0/10also my view of him hasnt gotten better since someone sent me a rude ask about how darren had more personality than prince naemon in-game due to me joking about how i don’t like him and then subsequently blocked me for being irritated about the rudeness of the ask + the fact that im 99% sure they were the anon that appeared in my fucking inbox defending darren guitar every single time i breathed a single word about him

i completely forgot he existed until you listed him as disliked and now i hate him even more. that fucking. bard from the bannered mare. the one that harassed carlotta until you told him to fuck off. i hate that dude. always have

abnur tharn. mildly obnoxious with some amusing lines until you find out what he did to queen ayrenn like. small dick mannimarco joke is now renounced, little man. Perish.my view on Estre is Complicated because she’s a really neat character and villain and ranks as a favorite in the latter department but from like, a moral standpoint i loathe her.also while it wasn’t like. pelidil levels of shittiness i’m not fond of how she hurt naemon– but then again……. now that i think of it, i really don’t know what’d she COULD do other than keep him in the absolute dark until he inevitably gets caught up in the Shitshow otherwise. i wouldn’t suppose naemon to be 100% willing to join in her efforts or even keep completely quiet about them if she did decide to talk to him about it or let him know; and for all we know, she could’ve planned to do so eventually in some way– but the suddenness of the AD hero’s infiltration of the veiled heritance probably ruined any semblance of a plan she could’ve had. so on second thought, even from a “naemon is a perfect being and i will protect him with my life and loathe all who hurt him” standpoint, i don’t dislike her too much. let’s just reduce estre to like.. honorable mentions on my “disliked characters” list then lmao(also “moral standpoint” as if queen ayrenn is anything close to the pinnacle of absolute morality. estre is objectively worse on that front, though, so i suppose i still stand by that)

speaking of which i really… don’t like pelidil. again, moral standpoint. and “naemon is a perfect being and i will protect him with my life and loathe all who hurt him” standpoint. otherwise, he’s a neat villain and the quest in which you cut him down was one of the more impressive quests in the game IMO, or even in the entire game series. good build-up.

this is getting too long so i’ll cut it there, that’s all the characters that come to mind rn anyways hfhgdhg

____

10.) Unpopular opinion about XXX character?

hmmmmmm

i guess if you view it in such a way, liking him is kind of unpopular– while there’s still a lot of those who even if not actively talking about him as a character, have praised his character/took his side/whatever, there’s also a good amount who don’t. not really in considering him a poorly written character, but rather from a (sorry to bring this phrase up so much so far) moral standpoint.

also, considering him in a semi-unironic “he did nothing wrong” way, which i do, is kind of unpopular– and i can understand that, in some ways. i dont think him snapping at the scene of the orrery was under his 100% control nor was anything subsequent, but there’s still the fact that he still is in an “i deserve the throne, fuck off” mindset in coldharbour, which, unless he’s STILL affected by the mantle and/or the orrery, is obviously a negative change in viewpoint compared to the “i’ll swallow my bitterness and remain loyal to my sister and the dominion, she is the rightful queen and i am just her shadow” you saw prior.

granted, i’d argue that even then, you have to consider the influence that pelidil had over him prior (as some have accurately put it before– whispered poison into his ear). especially with the fact that naemon’s quite young for an elf at… 26? around that age-range. i dont think altmer’s minds work in the way that, say, hobbits do, in that they age slower and this includes their mental capability, decision-making, etc.. (they obviously don’t) BUT, compared to an elf with more experience, there’s a bit of an… imbalance there. pelidil WAS the one who served naemon instead of the other way around so you’d figure the opposite if anything, but again, naemon = impressionable and emotionally vulnerable at the time.

anyways, got off-topic; my point was that naemon, when you consider the influence that pelidil and any other secretly heritance people that interacted with him, even when you use the fact that he still seems “corrupted” in coldharbour to frame him as bad… that ain’t it. there’s also the fact that he is being tortured, at that moment. big part of it. he PROBABLY isn’t in the right state of mind, to put it simply. but then again, i mean, one could still argue a whole “cool motive, still murder” take on it, so whatever. i dont know man ghfghduhbdfg

YIKES i rambled, holy shit. sorry. but otherwise, i dont think i have too many? there’s not much in the prince naemon…. sub-fandom, at least not enough to be able to render one opinion as unpopular compared to the next

(and i. Guess that headcanoning him as trans definitely has the potential to be unpopular. but i dont really talk about it or “enforce” it much other than off-hand comments that might imply such, drawing him with top surgery scars, etc.. so it hasn’t exactly been given any room to be considered remotely unpopular. haven’t gotten anon hate, snide comments, etc.. about any of it at all so it’s cool. but i’ve brought it up because… you know how fandoms are; if there was more to the prince naemon “fandom”, theoretically, it would be and therefore kind of IS an unpopular opinion. “does your arm hurt from reaching cassius” ok look, i just felt like i needed to provide one more unpopular opinion about naemon and i couldn’t figure out any other than that. but yes. yes, hurts a little)

____

23.) Unpopular character you love?

unpopular as in commonly disliked, or unpopular in… amount of people that like them? with the latter, it’s def naemon. i love him with all my heart gfigufhgdugdfh but then again who didn’t know that

with the former… hm. the thing is a lot of characters disliked in this fandom are disliked with good reason IMO– nevermind. almalexia. not to open any #diskhorse wounds but almalexia’s one of them ghdfhguhg jot that down

and i’ve heard some talk that veya is kind of unpopular, what with the recent summerset developments? yeah, fuck that, veya’s one of my favorites. this fandom (or. any fandom lets be real) has an awful tendency to praise any goddamn male character’s flaws or “negative” depth as redeemable character complexity and something that can be looked past, and yet, you see even REMOTELY the same amount if not more character depth in a female character and they’re hated. pointing this out is nothing new but it’s truly just…. something to behold.

and on that note im just going to renounce my prior statement of “a lot of characters disliked in this fandom are disliked with good reason” that’s the dumbest shit i’ve ever said. or perhaps an addendum stating that it’s only applicable to male characters is more in order? or that it’s the opposite for male characters: liked with bad reason. or… liked with over-exaggerated reason disproportionate to the actual amount of depth, complexity, and/or likeability said character actually has, paired with hatred for female characters with the same amount of complexity. “bruh don’t you obsess over prince naemon–” Yeah And What the Fuck Of It

anyways moving on sorry i got distracted hgdfgyfgh. that’s all the characters that come to mind? disregarding characters that are unpopular in an unappreciated sort of way rather than a disliked way, i really dont have a lot

____ 

salty fandom (elder scrolls) opinions

#ask memes #time to do the other ones #asks #long post #ramblings #thanks again!!!!

[doctorlaelia-ffxiv]

.|faith

Dawn had barely broken when Laelia heard hammering at her door. 

“Doctor! Please! There’s an emergency, please-- please open up--!”

What would have usually been a slow and drowsy process of waking up came instantaneously; she didn’t even pause to wonder where Lucius might be at this hour. The only pause she took was one to haphazardly throw some clothes onto her bare form, tripping over herself as she hopped into her boots and ran to the door. Outside was one of the young girls from the village - a sweet faced Highlander named Elouise - with big eyes filled with tears.

“I’m sorry, it’s so early and they told me not to come, but--” 

“What’s going on?” Laelia asked, soft but urgent, touching the girl’s cheek and then her arm as she leaned down some to look at her. The girl sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

“My big brother-- he’s been sick for two days now but my mama told me not to get a doctor. A couple of priests of Nald’thal h-have been praying over him b-but it isn’t doing anything! H-He’s just getting worse!” the girl wailed, collapsing into the front of Laelia’s shirt. She embraced Elouise, squinting up at the house on the hill that she’d run down from. Yes, there’d been a lot of activity going on over there for the past couple of days, but she hadn’t thought anyone was ill... 

“It’s okay. It’s okay, Elouise,” Laelia replied, trying to calm the child. “Come inside while I gather my supplies, and tell me what’s going on with your brother. Okay? The more I know before I get there, the faster I can make my assessment.” 

The Highlander came toppling in quickly after Laelia’s invitation. She was almost already as tall as the fully grown Garlean woman, and only at nine years old. She blinked a few tears out of her eyes and sat in the Tonberry chair behind Laelia’s desk as the woman went about gathering a variety of medical supplies, listening closely to what the child had to say.

“W-Well... He said a couple of days ago that his belly was really hurting, and then he had a fever that has just kept going up and up. H-He’s been throwing up and he has an upset belly but he said his belly hurts so much that he can’t g-get out of bed... All sweaty and groaning in pain...” 

Laelia bit the inside of her cheek, looking to the surgical instruments sitting inside of her dresser in their metal case. Yanking open a drawer, she grabbed an assortment of medications. The rest of what she needed were already packed in her bag. The chirurgeon hauled it over her shoulder and hurried back into the main living area, gesturing for Elouise to get up and follow her outside. 

“I think I know what’s wrong. A couple of days, you said?” Laelia asked, glancing over to the child as they hurried up the hill to the humble house that sat atop it. The girl nodded furiously in reply and pushed the wooden door open. From the entryway of the three room house, Laelia could hear the chanting of the priests, smell the heady scent of the burning incense, and she grimaced. 

“Elouise! Is that you? Where did you go--” 

A towering Highlander woman emerged from one of the rooms, her hair done intricately in braids that spilled over her shoulders. Her dark skin seemed to glow in the light of the sun streaming in, and her eyes narrowed at the much more petite doctor, immediately drawing her arms in to her sides and straightening herself up as her jaw tensed.

“You aren’t needed here,” she said shortly. “Elouise, why are you bringing this woman here? We don’t need her help. The gods will help us.” 

“He isn’t getting better, mama,” the child said tearfully. “Big brother isn’t getting any better with all of the prayers! I thought... I thought the doctor might know something about how to help him...” 

“Ma’am, I’m sorry for the intrusion, but from what your daughter is describing to me, your son has a ruptured appendix -- or one that is very close to rupturing. There are a hundred other complications that can come with a ruptured appendix if it isn’t treated--”

“I said that you aren’t needed!” the woman said, her voice booming and angry. 

Laelia’s jaw set, and she looked to the room where the smoke from the incense was streaming. The voices of the priests were so loud she was surprised that she hadn’t heard them the night before. Perhaps they were growing more earnest the worst the young man got. Laelia knew this family. The father -- an Ala Mhigan -- had left to fight for the liberation of their nation against her own people and had not yet returned, with no word of where or if he was. The boy, a young man of just eighteen, was named Nef. He was training to be a warrior just like his father, was the primary breadwinner for the family. What would happen to them if something happened to him?

“I have to insist... Please. I agree that faith has a time and a place, but I have to believe the gods want us to be self sufficient to some degree--”

“Those of weak faith are those of weak heart. You think they can’t heal my child?” the woman shouted, growing more agitated by the second.

“I think that they won’t,” Laelia replied, looking back up to the woman. “Because some issues are mortal ones, and mortal ones alone. Would you go looking for Elouise if she was missing, or would you wait for the gods to deliver her home? Come now, Rainah. I know... I know you don’t trust me, or like me. You don’t have to trust me as a person or like me as a person. But I promise to you that I can save your son’s life, and that I will. Trust me as a doctor. Please.” 

“Mama,” Elouise said weakly, tugging on her mother’s arm. Suddenly, a wail of pain came from the incense-filled room, heartbreaking in its agony. Rainah’s eye’s widened, and she looked between the doorway to her daughter, lips parted. One could practically hear the gears working in her head. 

“W-...What did you say he has? A ruptured appendix?” 

“Yes. I believe he does-- I can’t be sure without an examination. But if he does, and it continues to go untreated, he may have an infection that turns into a worse infection. It could kill him, Rainah, very easily. To be honest with you, if it’s been forty eight hours then I’m surprised he’s alive still to begin with.”

“He’s a fighter,” she whispered. “Just like his father.” 

“I am insisting that you let me attend to your son. He will die if I don’t operate, Rainah! I can assure you of that,” Laelia said, an unfamiliar edge to her voice and foreign steel in her gaze. 

Even long after the priests were cleared out of the boy’s bedroom, the scent of their incense lingered, burning Laelia’s nostrils. It was difficult to perform any surgery alone, and so she had sent Elouise out to grab one of the mothers in the village who knew the most about medicine and first aid to assist her. There was no anaesthesia to give Nef, and she was out of the heavy sedation and pain medication she usually had until later that night. He had to suffer it through with whiskey alone. Not Laelia’s preferred method, of course, but it worked in a pinch. A really big pinch. 

“Okay,” Laelia said, wiping her brow on her shoulder as she slowly and carefully stitched the boy’s abdomen back up. “As I was worried about, an infection developed since we waited so long to remove the appendix. The surgery should have taken about an hour, but I needed some extra time to remove the infected tissue in his abdomen. I’ll give him some medication to help prevent any further infection and have pain medication for him by this evening, at the latest.” 

Rainah had sent Elouise out of the room, but she had stubbornly stayed to watch organs and tissue removed from her son’s abdomen, silent the entire time. The Mi’qote woman working across from Laelia and assisting her was a quiet helper, doing as she was told and making a valiant effort to not look repulsed by all of the blood that soaked the blue gloves Laelia had told her to put on after scrubbing up.

Now, Nef lay on his bed, still groaning in pain and covered in sweat. Blearily he opened his eyes to watch the doctor strip off her gloves and smile at the Mi’qote, thanking her for her help. 

“An angel came down to help me,” he said weakly, and Rainah jumped, looking over to him as he spoke coherently for the first time in twenty four hours. Laelia glanced over and smiled, walking to his bedside. 

“Just... stay still and try not to talk for now, Nef. Once the whiskey wears off, there’s going to be a period where you’re in a lot of pain. Save your strength for that, alright? I’m going to change and then come back to monitor you. A couple of your friends ran to Ul’dah for me to bring me sedatives and medication. They’ll help you out once they get here with the discomfort.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled, eyes fluttering closed again. 

“...Thank you,” Rainah echoed, her voice quiet. Laelia was in the process of disinfecting her instruments -- though the bulk of it would need to be done back home -- when the woman spoke, and she looked up at her.

“For saving him. I... It’s the way we’ve been raised, all of us in this village. Don’t trust medicine. If faith can’t heal you, then... maybe you weren’t meant to be healed. Maybe you are some sort of... otherworldly being. Maybe you were the one who was sent to save him.”

“I wouldn’t overthink it,” Laelia replied, her voice gentle once again. “I’m no creature sent by a divine being. I’m just...” She looked to the boy on the bed. “This is what I have always wanted to do. Help other people.”

Rainah and her shared a silence, the doctor closing her eyes as she leaned against the rough-hewn wooden table by the window. She was grateful for the bright sunlight streaming in to make the surgery easier. Surgery by candlelight was always more uncertain. It was warm on her skin, seeping down into her bones. Since the first time she’d woken up, it felt like she could breathe again. A holy thing, the sun. Maybe she ought to thank Azeyma for the blessing.

The thought almost made her laugh. Who was she to debate faith? She, a Garlean, raised on the backbone of science and war and control. The only faith one had in Garlemald was in the Emperor, the most divine in all the nation. But... she liked the thought of higher powers -- ones made of benevolence and love. Maybe just one? She wasn’t sure what to make of faith in the sense of otherworldly beings. The idea, though, of something bigger than these people and these creatures that roamed upon a planet, was both terrifying and comforting to the medicus. She had seen even the staunchest of Garlean atheists praying when their loved ones were on the operating table.

There are no atheists in a foxhole. 

“Was I irresponsible?” 

The trembling question broke the silence, and Laelia opened her eyes to see Rainah staring down at her son. 

“Was I irresponsible for not seeking a doctor for him?”

“...No,” Laelia replied, shaking her head. “You did what you thought was best for your child, Rainah. It is difficult to unlearn what has been taught to us since we were born. I won’t tell you that prayer doesn’t help. I don’t know that. But what I do know is medical science, and practice. And I know that you made the right decision in letting me in here. Thank you for letting me do this.” 

“You have no right to thank me,” the Highlander woman snapped, wiping a tear from her cheek. “If Elouise hadn’t come to you, he would have... we would have lost him... let him go to Nald’thal.” 

“Your son is alive, Rainah,” Laelia said earnestly, leaning forward some and focusing her gaze on the mother. “Alive, and a fighter, just like you said. He’ll recover quickly. I know it hurts, the idea of ‘what if’... but ‘what if’ didn’t happen,” Laelia added, watching the woman from across the room. “It’s gone. It’s over. ‘What if’ doesn’t exist anymore.”

She had heard this a thousand times; the strings of ‘what if’s’ coming from family members of her patients. What if I had done this or that differently... What if we hadn’t come right at this moment... What if he hadn’t told us something was wrong right when he did... What if, what if, what if? 

“Have faith that you made the right decision,” Laelia added with a half smile. “Have faith that you’ll be able to do it again.”

“There are...” Rainah’s eyes darted to Laelia and away again, “...still good people in this world. For so long, my family has only known strife... tax collectors, loan sharks, Brass Blades who only take from us... the Garleans who took my husband’s homeland and way of life. But you... You remind us. There are still good people. How do I repay you?”

“By remembering that there are still good people,” Laelia replied, looking to Nef on the bed before looking to his mother. “And... by knowing how grateful I am that you count me among them.” 

The Garleans who took my husband’s homeland and way of life.

I was not one of them, Rainah. And I am so sorry. If my people have taken your husband... then the least I can do is make sure that you keep your son.

#slowly flexing writing muscles? #ffxiv stories #ffxiv writing #writing #garlean #thanalan #ffxiv rp #mateus rp #mateus ffxiv

[shortfandomperson]

I posted 17,875 times in 2021

23 posts created (0%)

17852 posts reblogged (100%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 776.2 posts.

I added 1,412 tags in 2021

#the bad batch - 267 posts

#tech - 175 posts

#tbb tech - 167 posts

#the bad batch spoilers - 132 posts

#the bad batch tech - 125 posts

#star wars - 123 posts

#tbb spoilers - 122 posts

#tbb - 117 posts

#bad batch - 92 posts

#loki - 92 posts

Longest Tag: 133 characters

#ill draw a more coherent and complicated drawing in a bit but i had to fucking speedrun this wtf he's canon? orange logan canon? what

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

We all know that the Kaminoans have fucked with our dear clones down to the genetic level which means that they could have altered stuff. 

And we have seen that Tech is not particularly prone to showing emotion/feeling emotions (especially in the bad batch show) so I have a headcanon/theory. 

That yes they have fucked with our boy and his emotions/ability to feel/his brain which means that they have royally fucked him up, they have fucked with his brain. I want angst of this. 

I want angst of him not “reacting correctly” to situations, or just shrugging off huge things. 

31 notes • Posted 2021-05-22 21:21:03 GMT

#4

To your post on the Kaminoans torturing the clones, and especially on your point of Tech - I agree.

I headcanon that whatever the Kaminoans did to Tech to increase his intelligence and memory, definitely has affected his emotions and ability to express his feelings. He's snippy and yet seems to automatically believe that everyone is as smart/knowledgable as he is, without being malicious.

I specifically headcanon it that, not only from his genetic modifications but also from Kaminoans torturing him physically and mentally, the Kaminoans did make Tech the way he is.

He's... I hate the Kaminoans and know they tortured our boys...

We are on the same wavelength my friend, and I very much agree. kaminoans aren't known for their kindness or morals.

But yeah they've probably fucked with his brain and maybe forced him to witness things? like making him draw up battle plans and forcing him to see all the death he caused to get him to "learn" how to do it right? Like as a punishment? Like they're trying to make him smarter and faster by traumatizing him when he messes up?

Also thank you for sharing!!!

32 notes • Posted 2021-05-23 10:51:49 GMT

#3

Things I've noticed while rewatching the first episode of season seven of star wars the clone wars:

Wrecker walking up behind Crosshair, smiling before he insults Rex and grabs Jesse.

Tech crouches a lot. And I mean A LOT

Tech calling Rex Cap.

38 notes • Posted 2021-11-27 18:30:31 GMT

#2

I cannot find anything in the canon that mentions Tech's goggles, and no not his visor. His goggles/glasses. I believe that it mostly was an aesthetic choice, the colour/tint of the glasses too. So I've decided to make a headcanon:

Tech has a prescription yes, far or near sighted I do not know because I currently do not posses the energy to figure that out. You do it with a comment on this post if you feel up to it.

And because his glasses are not the normal kind and adapted for battle (They have a strap all around his head and don't just sit on his nose), he has the adavantage of not getting them easily knocked off during battles and missions.

But he will still have some of the usual shenanigans for people with glasses:

-pushes the goggles around on his face with the object closest to him, arm, tablet or another clone.

-he needs to clean them but he never does because he's always used to seeing through the dirt.

-forgets his glasses in random places.

-they fog up and he always finds it annoying.

But I also raise you this headcanon:

We all know that his mutation has mostly affected his brain and such. So Tech may have Irlen syndrome which is why his glasses are tinted. The yellowish tint helps him with all the text that he reads on a daily basis and it's extremely helpful when he cannot tint the screen that he is reading on.

He has programmed all of his screens to have a different background and text colour or make it easier for himself. The little genius.

I also headcanon that the other members of the Bad Batch help their little brother by reading things outloud when he cannot read the text himself. Either because of an injury or a headache because of the colour.

Feel free to add on!!!

39 notes • Posted 2021-04-12 15:42:16 GMT

#1

I'm sorry but the idea that Wrecker is just able to carry Tech is leaving me hysterical.

Like him tossing him around, catching him or just picking him up against his will or to move him out of the way. Like "Oh you need to be able to see this thing? Lemme help you" and just picks him up without effort and lifts him so he can see things clearer?

Hillarious.

So many moments can come out of these. "Oh the little shit is trying to attack someone? Let me just catch him in the hair and hold him back".

I absolutely love it.

It also helps that Tech is my favourite among The Bad Batch :).

Also please add your own ideas or scenarios where this happens if you want to!!! I'd love it read them and have a good laugh. Or Angsty stuff. You choose :D.

167 notes • Posted 2021-04-10 10:02:33 GMT

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