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asimplearchivist · 10 months

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‘ 𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓵 𝓶𝔂 𝓿𝓸𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝓲𝓼 𝓰𝓸𝓷𝓮 . ’

𝐂𝐇. 𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [ 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 ] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary ☾ ⤏ steven, unbeknownst to him, meets the love of his life at one of its lowest points. pairing(s) ☽ steven grant/reader word count ☾ 15.7k a/n ☽ [gif credit] ⤏ aka my personal love letter to one steven grant (and myself, because I want to be loved like I love just once). ⤏ i am going to be completely honest on this one, guys: this is a borderline self-insert fic that is 100% self-indulgent on my part bc i have felt like shit the last two months and want to treat myself. ⤏ i kept it as a reader-insert because a) some people (including myself) enjoy experiencing different ‘pov’s of reader-inserts, per se; b) it’s easier to be kinder to and romanticize myself when it’s ‘not me’; and c) i feel that it’s still vague/inclusive enough to be counted as a general reader-insert versus labeling it strictly as a self-insert/original character. i really only describe personality traits and the reader being petite, really (bc nothing comforts my 5’0” ass more than knowing i would actually be able to kiss the boys without craning my neck all the way back tbh). i use a few southern colloquialisms, too, just fyi. :) ⤏ typical moon knight fanfic disclaimer: I don’t claim to know very much about did beyond what I’ve gleaned from both the show, the various meta posts I’ve read on tumblr, and from other fanfics themselves, so please forgive and correct me on any glaring discrepancies/issues I may have presented here (or link me any posts that discuss more accurate representations of did, perhaps—that’d be greatly appreciated). some of the terminology/technicalities escape me. I tried my best to get their voices and characterizations just right, and I sincerely hope I succeeded bc they’re very special to me. ☽ MASTERPOST ☾ ☾ ☥ ⤏ NEXT CHAPTER ☽

The first time Steven met you, it was strictly by happenstance.

He had always considered himself a man with many friends. Although his routine was relatively simple compared to other Londoners who thrived in social settings and spent all of their free time anywhere but home to mingle and chase tail, he had familiar faces he saw frequently. He committed their names to memory when they’d give them off-handedly, he made a point to speak to them in passing even if he or they were otherwise occupied, and he kept a mental list composed of all the details he was able to glean strictly from observation when they didn’t readily volunteer the information.

Perhaps it was a little silly. All lot of them had trouble remembering him, sure, but he couldn’t hold it against them—tons of people had trouble keeping track of faces and people. Sure, JB never quite got his name right even after Steven had worked at the museum for a couple of months by now, but he was a busy man monitoring the security cameras all day long and stayed distracted (with his infatuation with otters, no less—as endearing of a trait as any for someone with a secret soft side). Donna stayed in a tizzy, always worked up over something beyond her control (Steven couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be dealing with the higher-ups trying to meet goals and attempting to exceed them). He didn’t really dislike them for it, even if it had grown rather grating as of late. (Even if it would only take them both a moment to look at his conveniently given and placed nametag.)

Crowley didn’t talk much, all part of the gig, so Steven didn’t hold their one-sided conversations against him, either. The gentleman with the broom cart (whose name Steven never had managed to catch, as gruff as he was) seemed only to ever respond with grunts. The security guards, the tour guides, the usual suspects on the morning and night bus rides…Steven interacted with them all, and they had enough good graces to acknowledge it most of the time.

Over time, however, as his dreams (or perhaps more aptly named nightmares) grew more vivid and more bizarre, as he seemed to lose track of time more and more (how exactly does one manage to miss an entire weekend when one isn’t a blackout drunk?), and as Steven’s anxiety led him into taking more and more precautions to make sure his self-diagnosed sleepwalking disorder didn’t strand him on the other side of London (again), it became more readily apparent that those people with whom he took such care to converse did not seem particularly inclined to return the favor. Sure, he’d accidentally nodded off a few times leaning on the other passengers in the morning bus, ran a little late at times getting to the museum (much to Donna’s ever-increasing ire), and maybe got a little carried away with his nattering when he got invested in something he was excited to share information about, but…would it really kill someone just to respond long enough to reassure him that he wasn’t virtually invisible?

It was one such morning after he overslept, convinced he was late, and worked himself into a right and proper state trying to get to the museum on time that he realized that it was, in fact, Sunday, not Saturday. Much to his bewilderment but proven by his phone, the museum stood barren and closed, doors locked and lights off. He stood at the entrance staring at his dumbfounded expression in the glass for a good five minutes, thoughts racing as he tried to recall anything about the previous day. There was no way he slept an entire day, right? He hadn’t been staying up too late trying to manage his disorder, even if he had been running a little tired lately.

His distress was punctuated by a fat, chilly droplet landing right on his nose. The early spring weather was unseasonably cold this year, leading to an abnormally wet season (as if rain could ever be abnormal in London, but the meteorologists remained convinced), and within seconds of Steven turning and trotting down the steps the skies parted and released their torrential downpour as if just to spite him specifically. Everyone else in the immediate vicinity, if they weren’t holed up in their cars or the myriad establishments bordering the museum district, already had their umbrellas up to shield themselves from the frigid onslaught, ambling along and circumnavigating the puddles lingering from the storm the night before..

Steven shrank into his coat, tugging the collar up and over his head as best he could as he crossed the street and aimed for the first building he saw with its neon, ivory OPEN sign glowing against the gloom—on the corner directly across from the museum entrance. The door was heavy, the handle cold enough he was surprised his palm didn’t stick to it, but he managed to pry it open and tumble inside.

A few people glanced up from their tables to give him a range of skeptical to humored looks before going about their business. Steven hedged to the side of the door in case someone else came in, dripping onto the old hardwood with no small amount of regret.

It was a coffee shop. Comfortingly warm against his numb face, he basked in the scents of espresso and sweets permeating the place. His attention was caught by the bookshelves on the wall to his right, and he was entranced—all until a barista slipped out from the kitchen and addressed him with a croon. “Oh, goodness, look like the weather caught you!”

Steven almost accidentally ignored you thinking that you were talking to someone else (for so rarely did someone speak to him in a tone that wasn’t irritated or dismissive). After his cursory glance in your direction, he did a double-take, realizing you were looking right at him.

“Yeah, I—looked at the forecast wrong, methinks!” he responded sheepishly (and he had—he’d been expecting Saturday’s overcast mist, not Sunday’s shower). “I’m makin’ a right mess, aren’t I? I should probably go before I warp the stain—”

“No! No, just wait a second.” You raised a placating palm before dipping below sight behind the counter. You emerged and rounded the corner next to the display case holding a towel, walking right up to him and offering it to him with a sympathetic smile. “I can’t count the number of times I thought I could beat Mother Nature,” you joked. “It sucks that it’s been so cold on top of it. I’m surprised I haven’t gotten sick.”

Steven accepted it graciously, muttering his earnest thanks as he went about mopping up his sopping curls. Once he’d wiped all the rain he could off of him, he handed it back to you. “Hope I don’t get one, neither,” he responded. “It just wouldn’t do to catch cold in the middle of all this, would it? No.”

You chuckled a bit, eyes glittering with mirth. “Maybe it’ll help if I get you something hot to drink?”

Steven glanced at the menu hanging on the wall behind the counter, eyes rounding a little at the prices. He’d overspent on books again after payday, so he was having to be a bit more frugal this week than usual. “Oh, no, don’t go to the trouble, I’ll just call a cab and get a ride home before it gets too bad.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” you assured him, wringing the towel between your hands. You hesitated only a heartbeat before you leaned in a little closer, smile turning a bit bashful. “I’ll make it on the house, how’s that sound?”

Steven normally considered himself one to give where charity was concerned, but he had to admit that the sound of something warm on his urgently empty stomach was divine at the moment. He cleared his throat, glancing towards the other customers still wrapped up in their own little worlds. “No, I couldn’t—wouldn’t want anyone jealous that they’re not gettin’ the special treatment, you know.”

“It can be our little secret,” you offered quietly, winking conspiratorially at him.

He blinked, heat creeping up into his face. “Oh, well. If you insist, then…just this once?”

“All right.” Your smile lit up your entire face, and you headed back behind the counter to deposit the towel in an unseen hamper.

Steven followed, training his eyes on the menu—the standard fare was reasonable, with alternative options for dietary restrictions. A lot of the custom concoctions did seem lovely, and he was a tad surprised to discover that they served breakfast and lunch, also—with vegan options, most notably. “Wow, I never even knew this place existed. I must’ve been walkin’ right by it this whole time.”

“Do you work at the museum?” you inquired, folding your arms over the counter and propping your chin up in your palm.

“I do, actually,” he beamed, though it was dashed a tad with his next confession. “I want to be a tour guide one day—you know, I’ve been studyin’ up for it and all—but they’ve got me in the gift shop. For now! They said they’d move me up with a new position becomes available.” They said that they would consider him for the role, but Steven clung to his hope that they’d soon realize how bloody good he’d be at it, as hard as he’d been working for it for so long.

“You always have to start somewhere,” you replied warmly. You gestured to the shop around you. “This is just to hold me over ‘til I’m finished up.”

“Are you a transfer student?” Steven asked.

Your brow rose slightly, but your smile didn’t waver. “How observant. Most people ask me how I got lost on this side of the pond.”

“It isn’t often I see Americans anywhere but in the more touristy spots,” he agreed, “but the university is quite prestigious. You must be very academically successful if you landed a transfer scholarship like that.”

“It took a lot of work,” you admitted, “but it’s been worth it. I never thought I’d do anything like this, and I would’ve laughed at you a couple of years ago if you’d told me I’d move this far away from home. I’ve never really been the traveling type, but I’m so grateful that I’ve had the opportunity to do so.”

“What are you studyin’?” Steven inquired. An English major, perhaps—you struck him as the literary type with your articulation, despite your soft, southern drawl.

“Oh.” Your face darkened and you fiddled with the hem of your sweatshirt—dark gray, warm flannel, with a silver astronomical design embroidered into the front. “Well. I went to a university back home and got a degree in writing—” Nailed it! “—but I was notified at graduation that I qualified for this so I thought why not? It’s a bit self-indulgent, really, as I’ve always been a history nut, but I’m, um…” You reached up and scratched the nape of your neck, glancing away as though embarrassed. “...focusing on Egyptology?”

Steven’s brows shot halfway up his forehead. “No kiddin’!”

“Nope,” you confessed, a bit sheepish. “I picked up a book with pictures of King Tutankhamun’s treasures when I was three and I’ve been in love with it since. Maybe it’s a little niche, but it makes me happy—I’m taking other history classes, too, so I’ll end up with an Ancient History major with a minor in Egyptology—that’s just my main focus since I always wanted to be an Egyptologist when I was little. I don’t know that I could ever stand the heat, though, so I’m happy with writing in the comfort of my own home.”

“No, that’s great!” he raved, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m a bit of a history buff meself! The museum has a huge Egyptology exhibit coming up next month, so I’ve been brushin’ up on it all. You know, in case I get to audition.”

“Oh, yeah?” you tried, emerging from your shell just a bit. “Do you have a favorite period?”

“New Kingdom, definitely,” he said immediately. His heart was thrumming, and he was trying (in vain) to contain at least the majority of his enthusiasm. “There’s just so much material to go through. All the texts recovered from Deir el-Medina fascinate me to no end!”

“Yeah, Paneb was a right bastard,” you joked. “He had the whole town stirred up all the time. But we’re not going to talk about Ea-Nasir.”

“Oh, yeah—imagine keepin’ all your hate mail for posterity,” he returned, strumming his fingers against the inside of his sleeves. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’m an Old Kingdom gal,” you said with a chuckle. “Pepi II’s letter about the pygmy won me over. Not to mention all the drama with Teti’s assassination. The workmen’s village at Giza? Oh, how could I pick one thing?”

Finally! Finally, it felt like Steven was talking to someone that spoke his language!

“It’s really hard to, isn’t it?” His stomach was starting to grumble. He cleared his throat, tamping down his anticipation just enough to concentrate on the matter at hand. He glanced up at the menu again, a little remiss with some of the unfamiliar choices—most of those displayed were coffee, but he’d been trying to curb himself off of it in favor of cutting out caffeine altogether for a better sleep schedule. “I, um…sorry, got a little sidetracked there. What would you recommend that’s decaf?”

“Oh, I love chai,” you told him. “Most of the teas we carry are decaf, though we do have decaf coffee, too. We’ve got all the usuals like chamomile, mint, Earl Grey…” You tilted your head slightly. “I’ve been avoiding caffeine since I was a teenager—it makes me antsy.”

“How do you normally take your chai?” he queried, curious.

“As an iced latte,” you said. “Cold foam, cinnamon, whole milk. I like it warm, too, especially this time of year, but there’s something about it iced that I can’t seem to part from—maybe that’s the southern upbringing in me.” You gestured to the equipment behind you. “Would you like to try it?”

“Yeah, sure! But with oat milk, please?”

“You’ve got it, darlin’,” you beamed, and set to work immediately. “I usually drink a small since it’s a bit sweet, that okay?”

“Certainly.”

Never would Steven have thought that he’d find such a deeply kindred soul a stone’s throw away from his workplace he’d never even noticed before today. He had to confess that he was charmed by you almost instantly. It had been a while since he’d met someone so engaging and open—not to mention generous and drop-dead gorgeous to boot! Ironic, really, that the foreigner was treating him more kindly than his native kinsmen. What did the Americans say about southern hospitality?

“Thank you so much,” he said when you returned with the cup and set it in front of him. “It looks great!”

“Go ahead and try it,” you suggested, “and if you don’t like it, I’ll replace it for you with something else.”

Steven had absolutely no intention of telling you to your face that he disliked your favorite beverage, even if he did decide it wasn’t to his taste—much less make you go out of your way to make him another free drink. But as he sipped the heady, sweet mixture the spices melted over his tongue. Despite being served cold, the flavors warmed his mouth and settled cozily into his belly.

“Oh,” he suspired, licking the foam from his lips, “that’s lovely. You’ve won a convert.”

Your smile was nearly blinding with delight. “I’m glad! It’s not for everyone, certainly, but those who do like it always seem to love it. No in between, I guess.”

Steven resisted the urge to suck the entire thing down, folding it between his hands instead as he committed more details of your appearance to memory. Your black apron was a bit big for your frame, dwarfing you a bit, but your sweatshirt did, too—your jeans were well-fitted but not snug. You were wearing very little makeup, just a touch around the eyes, but it emphasized your lashes like a fawn’s. While comfortable, if a bit plain, your ensemble made you seem like the epitome of homey.

“How long have you lived in London?” he asked after another delightful sip.

“Since the start of spring semester,” you said. “It was a big adjustment to show up at the tail end of winter, but I think I’ve gotten the hang of it now for the most part. I still get lost occasionally, but that’s why Google Maps was invented. I’d be up a creek without a paddle without it.” You leaned against the counter again, bracing yourself on the stained surface and gazing up at him as if there existed no other person in the world. “I live right next to the campus, but I work here to get away even though my scholarships carry most of my bills and fees. Ironic, though, ‘cause I don’t exactly consider myself a socialite.”

“You’ve fooled me,” he said with a chuckle. “Bit odd bein’ an ambivert, yeah?”

“I really only talk a lot when I get excited or when I’m with people I’m comfortable being around,” you confessed shyly. “I’ve been told I talk too much about stuff nobody really cares about, so I try not to bother anyone.”

“Now who on earth would have gone and told you that?” he pressed, heart aching all the while. How many times had he been told the very same thing, sometimes with less polite wording?

“Oh, not exactly like that,” you rectified in a hurry, “it’s just…you can tell, you know? When someone isn’t really paying attention to anything you’re saying. I usually get interrupted anyway, so sometimes I find it easier just to keep quiet.” Your skin darkened again, and cleared your throat as you dipped your face to conceal it with a hand. “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I went into all that. See? Rambling too much—words got away from me.”

It was like looking into a mirror—so much so that Steven almost felt a bit of deja-vu.

“No, don’t be sorry,” he said softly. “I understand completely—really, I do. Better than you might think.”

You raised your gaze back up to him, and he understood at once why the philosophers and poets both waxed so romantic on the concept of windows to the soul. He could see your tenderness, your diffidence, your sincerity all there in your jewel-like eyes.

“People talkin’ over you all the time,” he continued with a low murmur, looking down at the cup when the intensity of your stare grew too much—just like looking directly into the sun, “actin’ like you’re invisible or somethin’. Gets frustratin’, yeah? Couldn’t even bother to act like you’re there, could they? No. Seems like too much to ask.”

“Yeah,” you said somberly, but when Steven dared a glance up at you, your expression was one of complete understanding. Never before had he felt so seen. “It doesn’t help when you’re really not a people person to begin with.”

And now that Steven considered it more deeply, he realized that you were right—why did he prefer to stay home rather than go out? Keeping company with a goldfish certainly wasn’t an extrovert’s definition of a good time. Hell, the only reason he really went out of his way to engage with those on the fringes of his daily routine was because he felt it was rude not to because of constant exposure, not because he was itching to have the conversations themselves. He worried constantly that he’d overshare or annoy people, when most wouldn’t even think of it.

He let out a soft laugh, pressing a palm across his forehead.

You quirked a brow, your expression perking up just a bit at the sound. “What?”

“I just realized I’m not really a people person, either,” he said, shaking his head. “Thought all this time everyone else was just awkward at social interaction.”

“Oh,” you chuckled, and there was that ephemeral sparkle of mirth back in your eyes. “Well. Better late than never, right?”

“Right.” He paused, then set the drink on the counter to fish around in his pocket for his wallet. “Here, since you’ve been an absolute angel—”

“Oh, no, please,” you said, waving your palms at him in an attempt to dissuade him, “it was my pleasure. Finding someone else as big of a nerd about Ancient Egypt was tip enough, thank you. You’ve made my whole day.”

And even though his morning thus far had been an utter disaster, Steven believed that you had made his entire day, too.

“Well, all right.” He pointed a finger at you with a wry, toothy grin. “But next time you won’t be able to talk me out of it.”

“Next time?” you echoed, and the unadulterated hope in your eyes made his heart clench.

“Yeah,” he said, “where else will I be able to order the ambrosia of the gods? And nerd out about ancient civilizations? Not all baristas carry a double-edged sword like you do.”

You bit your lip, rolled the hem of your sleeve between your fingertips, and looked down and away. “Oh, stop it. It’s really just a hobby.” You gave him another cheeky smile. “But, if it would make a difference to you, since you seem the type…” You leaned in across the counter, and Steven found himself copying the action as though you had magnetized him. “...there’s a bookstore upstairs, too.”

Oh, bloody Nora, as if you weren’t already perfect enough.

Read the rest of the chapter here! :)

#fisara's codices #fanfiction #moon knight #steven grant #reader insert #steven grant/reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #moon knight x reader #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant fluff #steven grant fanfiction

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suliscool · 4 months

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wacky amnesia the bunker theory/headcanon about the monster (first post :])

hello, amnesia tumblr, i am sul. this is the first of hopefully multiple posts. i aim to post theories, headcanons, and maybe even art. anyways.

(spoiler warning, in case you haven't finished the game, or haven't been spoiled yet, somehow. also, i talk about some violent stuff. bunker typical death or injury and whatnot)

i would like to present my theory, with headcanon elements, as to why the beast in ATB doesn't murk Henri during the time he spends in a coma, just kinda- laying in the sickroom. of course, people who are unconscious have this cool ability where they are quiet (most of the time) and since the monster mainly hunts by sound, i think Henri wouldn't really attract much attention, especially since the beast was busy with two or more dozen louder, moving, targets for a while. that's a perfectly valid and cool theory, but it sort of leaves me craving something even more complex and tragic.

hear me out: Lamby over here, during his human, as well as early transformation days, was aware of the fact that his dear friend, Henri Clement, is hurt, unconscious, and fighting for his life in the infirmary. he sat by his side longer than the doctor would stand around, waiting for him to wake up; maybe he even talked to him. as Lambert began transforming into the beast, his thoughts, memories, knowledge, as well as his very understanding of the world around him, slowly became more simplified, animalistic and twisted. what if this normal human knowledge of his bestfren laying in the sickroom became- something a bit different. he's aware that the sickroom contains *something* important to him, like, fragile. by the point of full monsterification he's unable to fully comprehend a concept like Henri Clement, so all he understands is that the location is somehow important, and that the piece of meat laying around is not to be harmed. what if while Henri was unconscious the monster even busted into the sickroom a few times and just kinda- stood around. what if he even took a closer look and recognised Henri, sort of, further associating him with this location. of course, Henri here is a very special case. i just think that this could be similar to the monster's relationship with the rabbit toy, as in Lambert's friendship, care and empathy, towards Henri in this situation were strong enough to halt his violent tendencies and bring back a little bit of his humanity. this only works for the most important people in his life at the time, who i, in my somewhat backed up opinion, believe to be Henri and Lambert's son, who Lamby associates with the rabbit toy. according to the notes in the game, one soldier claimed that he thought the beast had recognised him somehow. buuut that didn't stop Lambert from violently tearing him limb from limb and using his entrails as chapel decorations, did it now.

i don't think that Lambert can recognise Henri during the actual gameplay, at least not until it's too late. this ties into my other theory about the beast having bad eyesight, since Lambert needed glasses back when he was human. idk if anybody else has also had this in the actual game but i have had multiple instances where the beast just walked right past me, if i stayed quiet, hidden under a bed in soldier quarters or something, but the second i shuffled by one inch, he suddenly turned around and yanked Henri out of the hiding place, killing him instantly. things like this have led me to believe that the monster has poor eyesight, increased sense of smell, since he can track victims with open wounds by blood, and, obviously, very sensitive hearing.

i think that the beast doesn't realise who Henri is for multiple reasons. first of all, the bunker is dark and Henri is always keeping a distance, unless he's dead (i will get to that). it's very much possible that, if Lambert was nearsighted, everything is just extremely dark and blurry, leaving the monster with no chance of potentially recognising his dear friend. could he recognise Henri if he spoke? maybe, actually. although i still do not think this would result in Henri being saved or *safe* (i will get to that too). the second reason why Lambert cannot reognise Henri, that i've been building up to, is because Henri's location has changed. what if, in his simple little monster brain, Lamby has "rationalised" that Henri is in the sickroom, that he belongs there, even. therefore, another random soldier, who Lambert cannot even see past a blueish blur, out in the open, definitely not in the infirmary, would NOT be Henri to him. dare i say, he wouldn't even think about it, i'm pretty sure. well, he doesn't really think in general, does he.

and at last, the things i was going to get to. i have my own headcanon based on this theory as to what happens after Henri's potential death. you might've noticed that after the beast kills Henri via mauling him, or snapping his neck, it just kinda stands around and OF COURSE this is most definitely just the developers not wanting to animate the beast ripping into Henri as the screen fades to black. i decided to over-interpret it anyway. i like to think that once Henri is dead and within arm's reach for the monster, it can actually recognise him by being able to see his face. this then leads to Lambert, once again, regaining a smidgen of humanity, possibly lamenting Henri's death, before dragging his lifeless corpse back to the infirmary and putting it in the bed that Henri was supposed to be resting in this entire time. this is kind of the same reason why i think that Henri could potentially face an even more grim fate than the monster simply hearing and murdering him, if he heard and recognised Henri's voice. like, what if he still rationalised that Henri is supposed to be in the sickroom and started hunting him with the intent of returning him there? i think Henri *could* get seriously injured, or even die, if, say, the monster decided to drag him across the entire bunker, back to the infirmary. you know, over all that stone, debris, and those loose pieces of wood or metal. maybe trample him a little bit too. even being grabbed results in injury in the game, let alone all of THAT. aaaanyways

this was a bit of a hefty first post, if anybody actually read all of this, then i hope you enjoyed it! i had fun writing it, i sure love gruesome death/injury and tragic stories. have a good day, i'm going to go on a walk now. more posts coming soon! maybe

-- sul

#amnesia game #amnesia the bunker #frictional games #henri clement #augustin lambert

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zoeykallus · 10 months

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Important for requesting people...

Okay, I thought about this for a while, and I've decided something.

I get tons of requests, many of them downright praising my work, before asking their request. I'm flattered, very much so, I can't even put into words how overwhelmed I sometimes feel, because of all the requests flooding in (In a good way, because it's super flattering and sometimes in a bad way, because I always worry about not having enough time and being too slow. I know some of you were used to me writing every day, sometimes multiple things a day. But nowadays days I work three jobs and I just can't do it daily anymore without burning out). However, there is something that would be much more important to me.

Now comes the downside of what I have to tell you. If you send me a request, Non-Anon, asking me to do something for you (which I'm usually happy to do), but I can't find your name in my notification list even once in the last four weeks because you haven't liked anything of mine, let alone reblogged it, I won't even think about fulfilling your request. I'm not asking for anything except the occasional reblog. That's not too much to ask, is it?

Now, how, or why, did I come to this conclusion?

Pretty simple. I looked through the last 35 requests I received, and I saw a few names that didn't ring a bell at all. Requesting peeps that were praising me to the heavens, telling me they read everything I write/wrote (you don't have to do that, by the way). And out of curiosity, I went to my desktop PC, went through my notifications, checking it thoroughly for those names, in the period of the last four to six weeks. No notifications, nor reblog, no comment, not even a like. Don't get this wrong, I wasn't angry, but I felt disappointed, maybe even a bit deceived. I thought, why should I consider working on those (some of them quite extensive) requests, when I get nothing back?

Of course, I also make Anon requests, as I'm sure you've seen, and more than a few of those. So of course I can't keep track of that. I get that some peeps are just shy and that's totally okay, that's why I trust my anons and give them the benefit of a doubt, so to speak.

Just a reblog, that's all I'm asking for. (Or at least a like) Because that's what's actually keeping me doing this stuff, seeing that it was worth the time I spent doing it, seeing that people really read it. Now, before any of you start making any comments about ego. It's more about limited time, because as an adult in the middle of life, with three jobs, you just like to see that the things you do for others in your spare time are appreciated or liked in some way. It just makes us writers feel good and not lose the desire to write. I'd even say it should be common courtesy on tumblr.

Don't get me wrong, I have so much love for you guys, I love requests. Furthermore, I'm grateful for your input, your ideas, that you are feeding me with inspiration for my passion to write. I'm just talking about one hand washing the other. Mutual respect, we can all benefit from this, one way or another. You don't need to butter me up, just a friendly hello before you make your request and the occasional reblog will do, and I'll gladly fulfill your HC/Drabble/One-Shot wishes in the fanfiction section. Honestly, I'd rather have your reblog/or comment on one of my works, than a four sentence long praise in your request 😅😉

Love, Zoey

💚

#fanfiction #fanfiction writer #fandom #requests #tbb #star wars

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putschki1969 · 3 months

Text

youtube

Kaji Fes.2023 Day 1 FULL Video [Reupload]

Find the original post from last night HERE. It doesn't show up on the Tumblr dashboard so only people who actively check my blog have seen it. I exchanged the video with an official one so I guess it might have been a copyright issue. Don't think I've ever had one, very interesting.

»»—— CLICK ME 🎁 CLICK ME ——««

❗FOR PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗CREDIT me if you SHARE on other sites❗

I was quite excited to watch this since I only attended Day 2 last December. I didn’t necessarily regret not going for Day 1 but there were a couple of really neat songs in the setlist that I kinda wished I had been able to see performed live. The audio seems a bit dull but maybe it’s just me… Anyway, it’s still a pretty epic live. Please note that they decided to cut a handful of songs from the broadcast (probably to keep the whole thing at roughly 2 hours). The following songs are not included: fake garden, canta per me, she has to overcome her fear, I beg you and 砂塵の彼方へ.

Here are some random thoughts┗(•ˇ_ˇ•)―→

fake garden

canta per me

the world: Nothing much to say here. Decent performance but I liked the song more when it was led by Keiko.

Liminality: Loved, loved, loved this version with the amazingly talented Yuri Kasahara, Keiko and Kaori. The bridge here might be my favourite of all time.

in the land of twilight, under the moon: Never been a fan.

swordland: Another highlight for me. I think it’s easy to tell that I am a real sucker for YK’s guest vocalists that use a more operatic singing style.

she has to overcome her fear

luminous sword: Always been a big fan of Yuki’s SAO soundtrack. I understand why it gets performed a lot.

星屑: Even though this is a Keiko-centric song, I’ve never really liked it all that much so I don’t have much to say about it.

花守の丘: Solid.

ｗe’re gonna groove: Those who have followed me for a while know how I feel about the accordion. I dislike this instrument with a passion and it’s just featured way too heavily here. Fun fact, when Day 2 started with the accordion, I got really scared and wondered whether or not I would enjoy myself.

Obsession: Can’t say I’ve ever heard this song before. Sadly, it’s nothing that leaves a lasting impression. Also, that accordion…(¬_¬) Weird choice for LINO LEIA. It was fun hearing Keiko sing a bit of English though.

千夜一夜: Once again, not familiar with the song. Like this one a bit more though. Generally, I think I prefer rito’s vocals over LINO’s even though I don’t really know why.

Point Zero: This is one of my all-time favourite YK songs and one of the few tracks I really regret not seeing live on Day 1. Another epic performance by Yuri Kasahara. God, I love her so much.

salva nos: Speaking of regrets, yup, I’ll admit it, I am pretty bummed that I missed this one. “salva nos” and “a song of storm and fire” were the very first YK songs I ever listened to and they quite literally changed the trajectory of my life. Without those two songs, I wouldn’t have looked into more of YK’s stuff and I certainly wouldn’t have discovered Kalafina. One day, I wanna be there for a live performance. At least I got to hear “a song of storm and fire” on Day 2. So grateful for that!! Anyway, super epic.

花の唄: No thoughts.

I beg you

櫂: Ahh, I almost forgot about Aimer’s Mizu no Akashi 2.0. It’s so funny to me that this is literally copy/paste. Lovely melody, I don’t even mind the vocals all that much but damn, it’s not even coming close to Wakana’s Mizu no Akashi.

朝が来る: Decent but nothing to write home about.

My Story: Ohhh, another score track from “Hanako to Anne”. I was actually blown away by Day 2’s “希望の光”. This is not as good but still quite nice. Weirdly enough I am obsessed with the uilleann pipes. How come I can’t stand the accordion but I absolutely love this instrument? Probably because I am really into the celtic sound?

Parallel Hearts: Ugh, never liked this song, not even when Wakana was still around.

stone cold: This on the other hand is a song I’ve always enjoyed but with Wakana no longer in the picture, it’s just not the same. Will never get used to the Kaori chorus. Sorry T_T Still like this though.

the image theme of Xenosaga II: Good stuff.

蒼穹のファンファーレ: Love that this is focusing on the FJ regulars. My favourite performance of the song so far.

#yuki kajiura #kajiura yuki #video #report #Kaji Fes. 2023 #Kaji Fes #fictionjunction #Keiko #Uploading this again #the first 2 posts weren't showing up on the dashboard #sorry for the spamming

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lesbiandanhowell · 5 months

Text

Sam reacts to: Dan and Phil React to Every Phil is not on fire! #3

- Literally ran away from my mum for this video, we were watching tv on the couch and I saw the notification and fucking RAN.

- Shaking with anticipation they look so, old school in Dan's shirt and the denim jacket. This is how I remember them from when I first became a fan of them and just that brings up so much nostalgia.

- NOSE TOUCH TEXTURE. Someone on tumblr called that Phil would do it again and they delivered.

- hear discourse (what the heck was I on about with this one??)

- Why did he just fully show his underwear on the internet, like they really already didn't give a fuck anymore back then did they?

- Their sensory icks coming through with the mushroom, like I know that is not a neurotypical reaction.

- Phil hitting dan adorably when Dan says phulge.

- The ladders song appreciation, they do just like their silly compatibility do they?

- "Natural talent for duet improv song writing" cute

- The photo phil took of dan on the couch is so cute somehow I can't explain. It's so, intimate and so, domestic it makes me feel all giddy.

- The salsa and nacho laugh were SO uncomfortable they hated that, like Phil's laugh is not one of finding it actually funny I am sorry.

- "Uhh gif it" FUCK YOU PHIL

- Grandma Lester is THE icon, the more we learn about her the more I admire this woman and everything she did in life.

- PINOF 7 really is very good

- SOFTLAUNCH OF THE GAY HAHAHA

- PHIL CAN NOT STOP POINTING OUT THE TOUCHING IS DRIVING ME INSANE. lIt doesn't feel like he is doing it anymore to make fun of us, his tone is different and he isn't mocking us anymore... it feels like he is doing it for his own fun and almost appreciation of how they have become more comfortable with it.

- The discussion if Yuri On Ice was gay, Dan has much higher standards than I do (or Phil for that matter) and not everything is about sex daniel.

- The only thing I have to add at this point is how much more comfortable they are with touching and being close again by PINOF 8. You can tell they are out of being paranoid af about fans analyzing everything and coming more into just, being themselves again and not avoiding each others space.

- Phil not knowing his own diss track but knowing Dans is the most whipped behaviour I have ever witnessed.

- The nightstand exposure, like Dan just fully naming everything (almost I'd say) that Phil has in his night stand haha.

- They skipped some good parts big sad times, I get why because there simply isn't enough time to do four videos in one but still sad.

- "Sometimes I slept in it" WHAT DO YOU MEAN SOMETIMES This deadass confirms what we thought about the bedroom being a filming set and not actually their his bedroom, which is wild to me.

- PHATASS mention, Dan we know you love Phil's ass by now but thank you.

- "How did the floorplan stalkers even survive this era" oh Dan...

- Soft gay, they are acutely aware of all the things we picked up on as 'gay proof' and are not acknowledging that we weren't all that off really, they were just deeply closeted.

- THE AMOUNT OF NEW SELFIES WE ARE GETTING. The couch one, the ice deep throating... also the ones of Phil are so much more tame than Dan's.

- Dan is a PINOF 9 truther, interesting

- THE BUTT RIBENA FLIP. Glad they included this in their reaction because we were waiting for it.

- Dan can't stop looking at Phil, like this is so fascinating to me but we know Dan's side profile so much better than ever because he genuinely can't stop looking at Phil

- I think them ending it at 10 was perfect, it really is so sacred now.

- PHIL HAS DISCORD (I am so tempted to sent him a friend request. Update: I did and he doesn't take friend requests lol)

- Have these seen the our discussions about who would win a fight?!

- They really look so fond of their past selves, it makes me happy that they can actually appreciate their journey.

I can say that this journey through the 10 years of their career made my chest swell with fondness because they really have grown and been through so much. Being able to look back on this and see how much they have grown since then makes me so honored that we have been able to share their journey for this long.

See you tomorrow for another #sam reacts!

#dan and phil #amazingphil #daniel howell #phan #gaymingmas #sam reacts #Dan and Phil React to Every Phil is not on fire!

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darcylightninglewis · 6 months

Note

Good morning!!! Sorry to bother but since you are the most knowledgeable person I know about Hellcheer can I ask you if you have ever read a fic where Chrissy survives Vecna and then joins the group to defeat him? Thanks in advance and have a great day!!!

Okay, first off, you're never a bother, ever.

Secondly, I am honored by your ask. Sorry for the delayed response, it's...it's been a weird emotional exhausting few days but we're back!

Where my brain immediately went to

Chrissy and Eddie’s Infinite Mixtape by @little-scribblers-heart

What may be (to my reading knowledge) the most epic rewrite of S4, really can't recommend LovelyThings enough.

(sooner or later it comes down to fate) i might as well be the one by @majicmarker

Another great one and one of the best stream of conscious Eddie writers I've ever come across. Their fics always make me laugh.

someone reaching back for me by @enoughtotemptme

Okay, this one is gonna make you sad, but eventually very happy too! It was the first groundhog style fix its fics I read for season 4 and introduced me to the writer's work who I also can't rec enough.

EDIT

OMFG, I CAN'T BELIEVE I DIDN'T INCLUDE @hangon-silvergirl!! Thank you for pointing out my mistake, @majicmarker <33

Bonus Tracks by @hangon-silvergirl

Everything by her is amazing and this is no exception. I love it when folks use things we learn from con's in fic (like Chrissy's would be Vecna song), superb. A WIP, but off to a killer start.

Now below these are ones that have been on my Marked for Later list because I'm just in need of pure uncut fluff these days but come highly recommended.

the pleasure, the privilege, is mine. by melodicvinyl

I just love the starting premise of this one, I can see it being a thing Eddie does to make her smile or it's actually his mundane superpower that finally comes in handy. Also love their other fics too.

Linger by CircusBones

Hawkin's High 10 Year Reunion! Class of 86! Chrissy Cunningham has built a life in California, far from the demons of her youth, from her mother to Vecna. There's people who were always good to her, though. Healing might have taken her away from them, and coming back has its own challenges. This story moves between the events of 1986, and Chrissy experiencing Hawkins ten years later.

I've read their shieldshock fics and love them so I'm sure I'll love this too.

like hands that tick on a clock by theredhoodie

What if Chrissy Cunningham wasn't Vecna's first victim, but she survived instead? How would that have changed things for everyone? A ST4 shippy rewrite.

aesthetic chills by sloelimbs

"aesthetic chills" is the literal translation of frisson, which is the feeling you get when listening to a really good piece of music.

put your lips close to mine, as long as they don't touch by Percyjacksonfan3

Here's the thing about Chrissy Cunningham: she actually is the straight laced dependable good girl that everyone thinks she is. She's also, until she starts having these weird visions that make her feel like she's going out of her mind, insanely bored. Or, alternatively, the fix-it AU where Chrissy doesn't die and she and Eddie try and figure out what the hell is going on with her. And with them. Also, the usual gang is there. Eventually. Because these two need some serious help fighting demons and figuring out that they are not just friends.

If I missed an author's tumblr name please forgive me, I'm preeeetty brain dead. If I missed any fellow Hellcheerios, please drop them in the comments as I'm sure this isn't an exhaustive list. But hopefully enough to get you started babes!!

Hellcheer to canon:

#fic rec #hellcheer #eddissy #st au fic #otp: you're a freak

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bitchesuntitled · 6 months

Text

Through the Motions

Pairing: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x Reader

Summary: You and Frankie decide to start a family. Regardless of your mental illness and the challenges it faces.

Warnings: Mental health, cussing, pregnancy, bit of angst, comfort, fluffff, pretty much sums it up

A/N: Sooo…. This would be my first fic I’ve ever actually put out for the entire world to read. I used to have several 5 subject notebooks full of fanfic for myself and my cousins to read cause they were the only ones I trusted with that part of my brain. 15 years later and here I am. I had 4 different friends read it before I posted. All of which gave amazing input and helped me with wording, grammar, punctuation, etc. I love you guys!!! @hessofather(knows all about mentally ill pregnancy cause she did that), @jay-zzle(Spanish expert), @bi-panda(help with grammar and punctuation) and Sarah(helped with wording, who needs to get a tumblr)

Special shout out to: @chloeangelic- Thank you for being so helpful to this newbie with your writing advice! You saw this fic before it became what it is now, hopefully it’s still as interesting as you thought it was to begin with @gracieispunk for just telling me to go for it! ❤️❤️❤️

HERE GOES IT! 🫣

Masterlist

At the time you felt like this was a good idea, that you were strong enough to handle it, that it would get better as time went on. Except now you’re not so sure.

*****

It was your idea first, trying for a baby and Frankie was ecstatic. You’d discussed kids before but it was always in a wishful way, too nervous to stop the meds to actually try. Late one night while in bed you decide to talk about it once more.

“What if you can’t handle my episodes?”

“Such as…” He asks moving on his side propping up his head with his fist.

“Well… I’m kinda, actually no, I’m crazy without meds. You haven’t had to experience that side of me but other people have. I had so much rage in me all the time, I would snap in an instant at the smallest of things, there were days I couldn’t even get out of bed. I almost lost my job at one point.” You say rubbing your face trying not to think of the past without meds. He moves your hands and cups your cheek turning your head towards him.

“Hey now, we don’t have to do this. It’s up to you. I’d love it if we could have a version of you and me out in this world but it’s not a necessity if you don’t want to. I’m still going to be here whether we decide to do this or not”

“Oh god, the manic episodes! I’ve gotten those under control finally because of the meds but the mania was almost just as bad as the depression! Sooo many bad decisions, honestly surprised I don’t have a kid already. Definitely had a rise in my labido during the manic episodes,” with widened eyes and a panicked look you start to back track “Sorry! I’m so sorry! I’m rambling now.”

“Shhh, we all have a past,” Frankie laughs, shaking his head, “If we’re being truthful here though- if we try for a baby that would be helpful, right?”

You laugh and roll your eyes.

“Yeah, I guess you got me there.”

*****

Thinking about it and doing it are two completely different things. The trying part was definitely fun and then it happened. Those two pink lines happened a lot faster than you were expecting. What now? You have to get off your meds. That’s what you have to do now. It’s really happening. There is now a life growing inside of you. You thought you were ready for this. Mentally trying to prepare yourself for the moment the meds had to stop, the pregnancy hormones and what they’ll do, the changes your body will go through, the mindset you’ll need to have going through this, so much to prepare for. Then the first slip up happens. It took 3 weeks, 3 weeks for the first incident to happen.

“Oh, I see!” You say gritting your teeth, “So I need to have supper ready for you when you get home? Like I’m some 50s fucking housewife?!”

“That’s not what I even said. All I asked was what are we having for supper? I did not mean what are YOU making for supper.” Frankie said as calmly as he could. He never thought his army training would help him in a situation like this. They teach you how to handle dangerous territories, hostile situations, survival, and so much more. But this? No one ever trains you for this. For a hormonal, mentally ill, pregnant lady.

You can feel your face hot from anger turning into one of embarrassment and shame instead. Your bottom lip begins to tremble. You realize your mistake immediately. Not sure if it’s the mental illness or the hormones rushing through your body. It all kinda feels the same right now. Frankie notices the change immediately and rushes towards you.

“Bebé, bebé, bebé,” He says quietly wrapping his arms around you, pushing your head into the crook of his neck. “It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re okay. We’ll get through this just like everything else. I’m here.”

“I hate this!” You sob

*****

Your entire pregnancy you feel as if you’re going through constant loops. The manic and depressive episodes coming in waves. You sense it before it happens, a lot like when you can smell rain before it starts. The only thing is when. When is it going to hit you? Will it be a depressive episode? Where you find it near impossible to even get up but you have to in order to make sure things are ready for this baby. Will it be a manic episode? Where you have so much energy it feels like you’re going to crawl out of your own skin but also in a way beneficial because you can get so much ready for the nursery. Will it be one of sadness, anger, anxiousness? What will it be and can you make yourself stop it? Doubtful, you never can, just like now.

**9 months later**

He plops down at the kitchen table sighing. The baby has finally gone to sleep. After 2 hours of crying there is finally silence.

“What‘s wrong?” Frankie asks

“I don’t know.” you sigh, putting the last bottle in the dish rack to dry.

He can tell something is wrong by your actions. The way you’ve been rigid. You’re so stiff. You’re so tense. You feel on edge about every little thing.

The baby is crying. Needs changed again. The baby is crying. Needs fed again. The baby is crying. Needs soothed again. The baby is crying. When is there time to sleep? So over-stimulated it’s almost too much to bear.

It’s only been 2 weeks since the baby arrived and you’re back on meds finally. As with all things though, it takes time.

“What’s wrong? Hermosa, please tell me.” he asks again

“It’s just one of those days.”

One of those days, the hatred for yourself you feel. Am I a good mom yet? Am I doing everything that needs done? Is there anything I missed? I have to be perfect on the outside. Why am I NOT perfect on the outside? Can I even pretend to be perfect? The internal battle is almost too much. You don’t want to look at him. You don’t want him to see how much your mind is making you suffer because he will see it, he always sees it now.

“Baby, please talk to me!” He pleads

You push yourself off the kitchen sink and finally turn around wrapping your arms around yourself and you know he sees it. Your mind starts racing. He thinks you’re a failure. He wants to give up on you. He doesn’t want to deal with you anymore.

He gets up and takes a step closer, you take a step back. Not ready for the comfort, the consoling, the pity party to ensue. He grabs you before you can get too far away.

“You're an amazing momma. Don’t sell yourself short!”

“Hold on,” You start to remove yourself from him, “I need to get the hamburger out for supper tomorrow.”

He furrows his brows letting you go and sighs, “Will you sit down, please?”

Reluctantly you sit down and your mind starts racing and panicking again. Why does he want me to sit? Why did he sigh? Is he mad at me? Did I do something wrong?

The baby monitor goes off and you start to get up again

“Stop, sit. I got this. Stay here.”

So you sit. You sit at the kitchen table with your mind spiraling and wondering what to expect next. Can he change the diaper? Can he make the bottle if the baby needs feeding? Can he soothe the baby to go back to sleep? What does the baby need?

You hear the crackle of the monitor

“Momma is so tired, isn’t she? She needs a break sometimes. She takes such good care of you while I’m at work.“ the baby starts to wail louder, that must be the getting diaper changed cry, “Oh yes, I know mi vida, it’s so cold and momma does it better but daddy is here and can do it too.” Low and behold you are correct!

The baby stops crying. Soothed for now. Who knows how long it’ll be before they’re awake again. Frankie comes back to the kitchen.

“Mi amor, we should get to bed.”

You nod while he grabs the baby monitor then your hand, in a daze you let him lead you to the bedroom. He helps you change your clothes for the first time in three days. Frankie grabs your brush, he gently brushes til the knots are out of your hair and he puts it in a bun the way you like. He grabs you around the waist and guides you into the bed. Laying there together, he’s whispering words of praise to you, “Eres hermosa, you’re a good momma, you’re perfecto for me and our baby” placing soft kisses to your neck with each phrase, and then you hear his soft snoring. With silent tears falling down your face you finally start to drift off to sleep, you suddenly remember you forgot the hamburger meat. You try to move but with Frankie’s warmth and tight grip surrounding you you easily give up, guess there is always tomorrow.

#pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #reader fic #i’m new to this #be kind #white girl doing Spanish #angst #comfort #fanfic writing #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #pedro pascal #y/n fics

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internet-sadass · 6 months

Text

More Than You Bargained For But Better Than You Thought You'd Get (Jason Voorhees x female reader)

Blurb: You just wanted to get some photographs of the object of your obsession but said object had other ideas in mind, namely pounding the stupid walking fleshlight that dared to not flee when he pursued.

Alternative title: the reader is a big fan of Jason and decides she wants to get some pictures and some dick from him :)

Warnings: smut, size difference, size kink, outdoor sex, this is a slasher fic so there's mention of violence.

AN: it's kinda iconic that my return to tumblr comes in the form of a jason voorhees smut fic 💀 anyways, big masked mamas boy has me in a chokehold rn and I was itching to write some filth about him.

It was mad. No, actually, it was utterly deranged of you. But you just couldn't help it. Newspaper clippings weren't enough and the grainy footage of him hulking his way between the trees you had seen on the news sure as hell wasn't enough. Even your imagination, as boundless and talented as it was at conjuring up scenes of that towering figure knocking you to the floor and using you like a glorified sex doll, wasn't enough.

You had to see him in the flesh, snap a few pictures of your own. He was like a wild animal, deadly yet cautious, with an equal chance of fleeing or pursuing you.

This whole mad plan is why you were here, walking along the dirt path that weaved between the trees. The infamous lake caught the sunlight in the distance, sparkling like a discarded foil wrapper. Even though your pace was steady, nothing more than a stroll, your heart pounded, and your body leaked a slick sheen of sweat. It was a little embarrassing that just being in a location where he could be was making you so unbelievably aroused. Just the mere chance of seeing his silhouette had turned you into a beast in heat, trudging through the woods to find something to rut against so the aching between your thighs would stop. Despite how unbelievably hot and bothered you were, you were determined to keep walking, keep wandering the woods of Camp Crystal Lake until you found him.

Four hours had passed, and that determination was starting to dry up. You leaned back against a tree stump and drank water while looking through the few images you’d snapped on your camera. They weren’t of anything special, just the infamous ‘Camp Crystal Lake’ sign and a few shots of the woodland you’d been roaming through. The rational part of your brain whispered that this was a good point to turn around, return to the car park, and drive home. But no, you’d come here to fulfil your fantasies, and by God, you’d do that, even if the only part of him you saw was a shadow and the only photo you snapped was a blur of his hockey mask.

You got up and started walking again, this time without the guidance of the path. Weaving between the trees, you progressed deeper and deeper into the belly of the woods, straying further away from the relatively safety of the sunlight-lit dirt track. Any sounds of other hikers faded and were replaced by the constant low sound of the wind rustling leaves, the occasional twittering from an invisible bird somewhere above you, and the snap of twigs under your boots. The stark lack of any signs of human life sent an odd thrill through you: no one would be here to save you or interrupt your mission. You’d be at his mercy if he spotted you, a little voyeur intent on getting pictures of the object of her obsession, and decided to put a stop to his personal paparazzi.

A jolt nearly made you trip over yourself. Managing to regain your balance before you could fall face-first onto the mossy forest floor, you looked down. The laces on your right boot had come undone, and you’d stepped on them, yanking yourself to a stop. With a mumbled curse, you crouched down to retie them. Drawing back up, your gaze settled on the endless blur of trees ahead of you, interrupted only by an off-white oval.

Wait.

Frozen in place, your breath caught in your throat. The unmistakable hockey mask, attached to a figure trying to conceal his bulk in the foliage, was staring right at you. Ever so slowly, as if any sudden movement would make this hulk of a man scurry away like a spooked deer, you pulled the camera slung around your neck up to your eye and squinted into it. Twisting the zoom lens, you watched him momentarily before clicking the button and capturing an image of his half-hidden form. You clicked a few more times. The hockey mask tilted to the side, questioning your actions.

‘Fuck, that’s so cute.’ You thought absently as you clicked away, probably filling up the SIM card with hundreds of duplicates of the same image.

The hockey mask recentred itself. Jason’s question of what the woman standing in the middle of his forest was doing had been answered. He lurched into a heavy-footed but brisk walk, closing the distance between himself and the small figure ahead of him. Much to his surprise, you didn’t move, didn't turn and flee. You stood, camera raised, finger pumping at the button, taking endless pictures documenting his emergence from the undergrowth. The camera only lowered when you peeked over the top of it and realised he was no more than ten feet away from her.

“Shit.” You hissed, letting your camera fall from your hands and hang around your neck. Spinning around, you began to run, stumbling over the uneven ground.

But you knew that you were half-assing this. You weren’t running as fast as you could, you weren't actively trying to escape. You were basically jogging along, listening to the thud of his footsteps draw closer and closer. This was all a ploy, a little game of cat and mouse. Jason liked to hunt, to pursue, and you were going to give him that. Let him have the pleasure of catching you, and then you’d see if you could change his mind about what he would do to you when he got his hands on you. As you lazily dodged trees, you felt the space between your thighs grow slick, both your panties and shorts beginning to bare damp patches.

It took only a few minutes before your hair was grabbed, jerking you to a halt. Before you could even take a peak at the huge form that was casting a shadow over you, the hand clenching your hair used your locks as a means to hurl you to the ground. The wind was knocked out of you with the impact, leaving you dazed for a moment. Regaining awareness, you flipped yourself onto your back so you could look up at the predator that had caught you.

The few pictures you’d seen of Jason did not do him any justice in terms of his height, you thought, mouth agape as you looked up at the tank of a man towering over you. You’d thought plenty about Jason’s size and how much bigger he would be than you, but now that he was looming over you, your innermost desires about his ability to toss you around and utterly destroy you with one hand alone were confirmed.

“Oh…looks like you caught me, huh?” You said, bold as brass, propping yourself up on your elbows. Your voice didn’t even quiver. It was as if you were talking casually to an acquaintance, rather than a murderer who could literally snap you in two. You wanted to tease him a bit, see if you could press the right buttons in his brain to get your sick desires fulfilled.

“Whatcha going to do to me now, hm, Jason?” You whispered. As you spoke, you spread your legs slightly, biting your lip. If your mind hadn't been so addled by adrenaline and obsession, you probably would have cringed at the pathetic neediness of your actions.

Jason cocked his head to the side at the mention of his name, much as a dog would do. His eyes locked onto yours, watching you with a mix of anger and interest. He thought for a few seconds about what you had asked, about the way you wasn’t screaming, begging, or attempting to escape. Something in his animal brain stirred.

Grabbing your arm, Jason yanked you up, nearly dislocating your shoulder in the process, then dragged you to the closest tree. You were ungraciously thrown against the trunk, rough bark tearing at your cheek and leaving a collection of scratches across your skin. Your heart thudded in your chest, pounding so loudly in your ears that you wouldn't have been able to make out anything Jason had to say if he were to speak. You giddy recollected the many hours you’d spent fantasising about this exact thing happening, and now it was actually going to happen. Or, at least, you hopped it was happening, and that Jason wasn't about to split your head open against the tree.

Fingers gripped the waistband of your shorts and tore them, scraps of denim falling to your feet. The thong you’d picked out oh-so-purposefully that morning got the same treatment. Your breath came out in ragged pants as you looked over your shoulder as Jason, watching him inspect your naked lower body. Leaning against the tree, you spread your legs wider, giving him a better view of your holes, letting him pick which one he wanted. He gave a huff of approval or interest. Your cunt clenched at his reaction, squeezing more slick out of you. He was killing you with how slowly he was going, taking his time to stare at the pink lips of your slit and the pucker of your asshole.

With his decision made, Jason unzipped his jeans, sliding them and his boxers down enough that he could pull his stiff cock out. He pumped it a few times, beckoning more blood into it. His cock matched his gargantuan size, both in length and girth. Considering that his hand, that was big enough that his fingers would be able to easily cage around your head and crush it, was just about able to close around his length, you knew that it was going to split you in two. A trickle of white pre-cum leaked from the crown, dripping onto the moss.

All you could do was stare, wide-eyed with terror and arousal, as he lined himself up with your hole. When the warmth of his pre-cum smeared against your opening, you twitched and clenched. Even your body seemed to have its doubts that the literal beast of a dick would fit without causing you major internal damage, and was trying to save itself from being pillaged by tightening up. Jason was having none of it, as he grabbed your hip with his free hand and steadied you, trapping you so that you couldn’t wriggle away as he pressed the tip of his cock into you.

A pained groan left your mouth as your entrance struggled to stretch around just the tip of his length, the pinkness of your lips becoming white as the flesh became taut. You took a shuddering breath in, leaning hard against the sturdy trunk of the tree, as your body reluctantly took on the oversized head of his dick. The hand on your hip curled into your flesh, nails catching on your skin. That was your only warning before Jason thrusted into you, cramming nearly all of his length into your velvety insides. It felt like his dick was never ending, filling up space inside your body that you were sure you didn't have, bulging out into your guts. The head hit your cervix and pressed hard against it, threatening to burst through it.

“Ha…fucking hell…I wonder if I’ve got…” You burbled out between pants, struggling to even breathe or speak, as if Jason’s cock had made its way up into your chest cavity and was crushing your lungs. You drooped your head between your arms to look at your body. A prominent bulge was settled in your lower belly, distending it. Jason shifted a little, pulling out then back in again, and you watched his movements appear through the flesh of your abdomen.

“H-holy hell…” You moaned, slightly mind blown that one of your biggest fantasies (aside from, you know, fucking Jason Voorhees) was right there in front of your eyes.

You didn't get much more of a chance to admire the outline of the massive cock pressing against your belly as Jason began to rut into you at a furious pass. You’d expected he’d have fucked in the same way he chased, slow and heavy, but he was surprisingly agile with his thrusts. Each time he sheathed himself inside you, his crown pressed thickly against your cervix and G-spot, not that Jason was aiming to make you cum. He was just chasing the high of being inside the hot, wet, vice-like grip of a cunt that was more than willing to take everything he could give it. It had been so long, maybe decades even, since he’d felt anything but his own cold hand around his cock, so the sensation of your pussy and the heat of your body felt like heaven to him. He let out grunts of pleasure as he slid himself nearly all the way out of your gaping hole, just the tip still encased in your warmth and wetness, and then slammed back into you, forcing your cunt to swallow a dick it was not naturally designed to take. The deep-rooted masculine need to pound and fill whichever hole welcomed it had taken hold of Jason.

Of course, even though Jason wasn’t aiming to make you cum or pleasure you in any way, that didn’t stop you from orgasming. The steady thud of his meaty cockhead against your cervix, paired with the strain of his girth stretching you open, drew an orgasm out of you relatively quickly. A crescendo of moans and begging reached its peak when you felt your stomach clench and the tension in your cunt snap. You were certain you had squirted, as you felt something warm and wet roll down your leg. Then again, it could have been blood from your pussy being torn by the savageness of how Jason’s cock speared you open. Everything was going hazy and blurry for you, as any ability to think rationally had been destroyed as soon as Jason had laid his hands on your flesh. You resigned yourself, clutching onto the tree trunk for support, barely able to keep yourself up as your legs trembled whilst you were pounded through one orgasm and into another.

Jason wasn’t sure how he felt about the noises you were making. They were similar to the screams and gurgles he’d pulled out of countless victims before, but there was no fear in the noises you were making. Still, they let him know he was doing something to you, and the way the muscles of your cunt tensed and relaxed around him confirmed that the something he was doing to you was probably good. Some part of him wanted to see your face, to see what expressions you were making.

Wrapping both hands around your waist, his fingers touching as he did so, Jason lifted you up, keeping you skewered on his cock. Still holding you, he flipped you over so you faced him. You let loose a squeal of pain and struggled pitifully when the ridges of his cock caught on the gummy walls of your cunt as he spun you around. Moving the pair of you closer to the tree, Jason pined you against the trunk with one hand under your breasts, holding you immobile by the ribcage. Panting, you gaped at him, still in shock after being rotated around and feeling his length definitely tear something inside you. His eyes met yours, and he stared for a moment, unblinking and devoid of any emotion, before he started pummelling at your cervix again. Fearing you’d fall or he’d lose his grip, you tried to wrap your legs around his waist, which only made you sink deeper onto his cock as you opened your entrance up more. His cock slid further into you, only stopping when he was sheathed balls deep in you. It literally felt like his cock was all the way up inside your chest, the tip nestled between your lungs.

Jason felt the pressure build low in his body, threatening to spill over with every passing second. His desperate rutting slowed as he drew out the process of bringing himself to completion. Each slide of his cock into you was accompanied by a sickening squelch, as your insides had coated his length with slick twice now. His breathing was heavy, rattling behind the mask, and his cock pulsed in time with each ragged breath, twitching in anticipation. Pressing himself as deep as he could without his tip breaking through the ring of your cervix, Jason emptied his load into you with heavy, hot spurts. You swear you could hear the filthy, wet gurgle of your hole being filled with the copious flood of seed, your womb swelling and cramping as it was flooded with the viscous fluid. Even with his length plugging your entrance, some cum escaped, trickling down the cleft of your ass.

You looked absently up at the masked man who had ravaged your hole, used you up like a cheap whore, your cock-drunk brain unable to form a single intelligent thought. He stared back as he casually slid his softening length out of you, leaving your pussy clenching around nothing and leaking a mix of his fluids and your own. His grip on your ribcage loosened, and you were dropped to the forest floor, where you lay, slumped against the trunk of the tree.

Exhausted, your vision went blurry, darkening at the edges as your ears buzzed with static. Before you fell unconscious, you saw the massive shadow of Jason pause and turn to look at you a last time before he trudged his way through the maze of trees and disappeared.

You awoke some time later, head spinning. It took a few moments before you remembered what the actual fuck had just happened to you. You fumbled about, searching for your camera, before realising it had stayed around your neck the whole time. Miraculously, it hadn't been crushed or really damaged at all, minus a smear of something covering the lens. You rubbed the smudge of god knows what off the glass before pulling the camera-strap over your head and holding the camera out in front of you. Smiling lopsidedly, your brain still not fully working after the whole ordeal, you snapped a picture of yourself leaning against the same tree Jason-motherfucking-Vorhees had fucked you against

#jason voorhees x reader #jason voorhees x you #jason voorhees x female reader #jason voorhees smut #jason voorhees #friday the 13th #friday the thirteenth #jason voorhees fanfic #obligatory massive cock because jason is a big boy #slasher smut #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction

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big-greer · 3 months

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I know i dont usually post stuff like this, for the longest time if you had asked me what my gender was id say i was a regular guy..but in truth i say that but i never really felt like i "Fit" with the term guy. Like in my brain whenever i think of myself i never really think specifically about being a male. Before i just assumed "oh its cause i am one, obviously i wouldnt consciously think of that. its sort of a given" but looking back that clearly wasnt the case, always joked how i barely counted as a guy and most people either would laugh like its a joke but a few days ago a coworker asked why..and i sort of froze up cause i had never really stopped and asked myself why? Like i knew i didnt act like a normal guy, i didnt think like one, i never had that attachment to the title of being male. so i always felt this disconnect from manhood, and even when my father tried to teach me to be a man it always felt like i was just an outsider looking in and learning a lesson through a window or something. he tried all kinds of stuff you would expect a "manly" guy to know, hell he even taught me how to track through a forest (would cut notches in trees and we walked from the top of a mountain to the bottom and had me lead us back following the marks he made. yeah dad take your like 14 year old to the fucking bottom of a mountain and make me track cut marks like some legendary hunter lol). and he would always explain what manhood was and i just....it never connected to me you know? i always chocked that up to the fact my dad was never really around (after he and ma divorced he sorta slowly dissapeared from my life till he was dead one day) and so i figured i wasnt like a regular guy cause i was raised by like, 95% woman only so i thought that might be why? but as ive come to realize it isnt that and ive just never really vibed with the idea of being just a guy, its never clicked for me.

Now dont get me wrong, the idea of using she/her pronouns actually is uncomftorable to me so now i feel like im sort of just floating here? in between gender in my own sort of like...little world and im worried about doing it right. Yeah i know "oh i want to do good at gender which is a logical and reasonable thing that can be done" i know i know. But like, i dont want to wear makeup and dresses and stuff (though nail polish would be nice, perhaps a good black would be cool.) and i feel like i dont particularly want to wear any womans clothing? i like guy clothes, there comfy, fit me nice, and for obvious reasons they are all i got lol. Also i like having my goatee and facial hair so thats also a thing. i just worry that after browsing the nonbinary tag that cause of stuff like this i wouldnt be good at being nonbinary, or that i would do it wrong. OH also that i would still be comfortable with people using he/him pronouns as well as they/them but wouldnt feel comftorable with somebody using she/her ones (perhaps this is just cause he/him pronouns are all ive known my entire life and thats why im more comfy with them). yeah all that makes me worried id be doing nonbinary wrong, which i know is a dumb sentence cause nobody can do gender "wrong" and that its a personal thing that is up to only the person whose gender its about feelings on the situation. but that lingering doubt is still in my mind, that i will be some sort of fraud or not ACTUALLY nonbinary and stuff. cause lord knows alot of tumblr views nonbinary as just "WOMAN 2" and if you arnt some hyper androgynous person you arnt actually nonbinary and i know i know, i shouldnt care what fuckin morons on tumblr say.

But gender stuff is new to me, VERY knew. Lord knows i still have strange feelings towards being ace and sometimes worry im not "ACE" enough to be considered ace. so im def still fighting some internal demons about this stuff. But having good friends around is helping out alot and i cant even imagine how id handle dealing with this sort of stuff alone (cause lord knows what little family i got left wouldnt be the most...supportive) anyway uh, gender is fuckin wild and confusing and stupid and simple and everything and nothing and lord does it give me a headache.

#gender fuckery #nonbinary #i guess i consider myself nonbinary #even if im worried im not nonbinary enough #whatever that means

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witchescollection · 5 months

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Hello I have a question..

How do you keep up with it all? I'm so proud of you for getting through 10 years! Though it makes me sad to know I always end up tapering out, just getting tired and I struggle to do even small things to where I stop entirely. How do you fix that?

Hi love,

Thank you so much, that’s so kind! Sorry for the late reply - my tumblr ask box has been broken for the last month or so.

I had a similar experience to yourself a few years back, and for me it ended up stemming from my idea of witchcraft being rooted in performance. My exhaustion came from sticking to an arbitrary schedule of when things should be done, and how they should be done. I’d keep track of the moon cycle not just because I was interested, but ultimately because I felt shame if I didn’t.

I felt like if I couldn’t list the magickal correspondences for every herb in my kitchen on command that not just that I would be a bad witch, but that I would not even be a witch at all. Witchcraft ended up becoming simply another tool for me to shame myself over performing inadequately. I felt like everyone in both real world and the digital world would notice if I slipped up, and rat me out as a fraud of a witch.

This is actually why I ended up taking a break from this blog for a few years. Because, it turns out, people don’t generally give a shit if you can name all the crystals you own, and if they do? They’re an arsehole.

It took me a really long time to understand that the pressure that lead to my burn out was predominantly internal (and then reinforced by a lot of the way we discuss religion and spirituality here online - that we’re competing to be the best in the space because we think there isn’t enough room for all of us at the table). Something that really helped with me was relearning witchcraft from the ground up - mainly through research of books, connecting with real life pagans in my local area (and often older pagans who haven’t even heard of tumblr), and just... deciding what I wanted my practice to be.

For example - I don’t really celebrate the pagan wheel of the year. I’m know of the seasons and equinoxes, and I’ll mentally be aware of them on the days, but I don’t celebrate them! That was too performative for me, and too formal. So I just... vibe, I guess?

Similarly, I communicate with Hestia in a very relaxed way. The most formal it gets is Tarot, and even then that’s with a whole heaping of swearing and informality! I’m not the kind of person who enjoys a structured practice.

Maybe that’s not you - maybe you would benefit from structure! The point isn’t to copy and paste what people online do, but find what works for you. I think that’s something we’ve lost in our digital age. It’s good to take inspiration from others, but what works for everyone else is probably not going to work for you.

The beauty of witchcraft and paganism is that we aren’t all striving for an end goal. There is no sin, and there is no failure. You cannot fail at something you decide the rules for. And you get to decide the rules you follow!

I hope this helps - and always know that it’s okay to take a break (or to realise that witchcraft isn’t your cup of tea). Witchcraft will always be here - there’s no rush to learn everything and get everything right now.

Sage x

#witchblr #wicca #pagan #hearth witch #folk witch #witchcraft #divination #tarot #astrology #paganism

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lia404 · 26 days

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Get to know me better game—2 in 1 because I'm 6 months late

Tagged by: @baratrongirl and @missmewachu

Thanks for being so patient while I was figuring out how Tumblr works again and why I had a blue dot beside "Activity" (as in, notifications about tag games I've been sent 6 months ago. Better late than never 🤦‍♀️) Thankfully the tag games you sent my way are very similar so it won't be hard to do 2 in 1!

Last song I listened to: Chipzel - Courtesy - YouTube

The 1st track of Super Hexagon, composed by Chipzel. Chipzel's music has been a pick-me-up since 201...4 I think? And since I fell back into Super Hexagon around a week ago, the music has also found its way back into my work playlist.

Currently reading: Trick question! There is what I am MEANT to read, and what I am ACTUALLY reading.

What I am MEANT to read is To Shape a Dragon's Breath, by Moniquill Blackgoose, which has absolutely all the elements I need to love a book. The problem is that my brain absolutely refuses moving further than Chapter 1, and I've been stuck for MONTHS. The good news is that when it happens, I usually struggle until the moment my brain finally snaps and I read the whole book in an afternoon. Wait for me, Moniquill Blackgoose, I'll soon be raving about your book.

What I am ACTUALLY reading is... well, it's more re-reading, but I'm going through Happy Hour by Inkflavored and Keep the Light Shining by Clydeside, two Yu-Gi-Oh AUs that have been incredibly healing for me in the past months, for very different reasons. I wanted to re-experience them to see if I could turn them into fanbinding projects (if the authors give me the authorisation of course, but I haven't reached this level of confidence yet, let's give it time.)

Currently watching: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS.

Do you believe me if I tell you that it was an accident? It kinda was though! I wasn't the one who played the first episodes I just kept going afterwards. That said, I have fully adopted Yusaku. I kind of wish he could meet Philip from Kamen Rider W. Things would go so well.

Currently writing: this one is plain cruel, because after a drought spell of almost 2 years, I finally feel like getting back into writing (thank you, current obsession.)

I have 3 WIPs, one PWP because I like a challenge, one backstory of a character that has basically become my OC, and one AU that @wisyhana created and that I'm using as a wonderful sandbox. I am between 2k and 5k into each, nothing is complete, I'm losing my mind. But at least I'm writing again, right?

Spicy/sweet/savoury: Okay yes no it's cruel again and you will not make me pick just one.

If you've followed me these past years you know that I have completely lost my sense of taste between 2020 and 2023. I was lucky enough, and honestly even the specialised doctor said it was a miracle, to have most of it come back to me abruptly in March 2023, after 3 years unable to enjoy a bit of chocolate or a nice gratin. Some tastes are lost forever, but so few compared to what came back that I just can only be very very grateful and very confident in saying SPICY SWEET SAVOURY I'LL TAKE THEM ALL. I LOVE TASTES. ALL OF THEM.

Relationship status: I have been told polyamory looks good on me.

And I am lucky to have the most patient and tolerant lovers ever. EVER. I love them so much and I'm so bad at showing it because I am a mess. There isn't a day where my heart doesn't overflow with gratitude that they are in my life and agree to putting up with my bullshit.

Current obsession: Listen, Mew put it SO ELOQUENTLY I can help but quote:

mentally ill traumatised japanese teenagers and their ancient egyptian guys who hang out in their jewellery all playing card games.

So, yeah, current obsession is Yu-Gi-Oh!, and with it Duel Links, and everything children-card-game-adjacent. I am currently trying to figure out why everyone in this kid's show is so hot and delightfully traumatised. Characters after my own heart, all ready to be projected on and used for cathartic writing purposes. Other obsession is MEW'S FAULT TOO ACTUALLY since it's my newly founded Clan in Flight Rising. Ask me about my dragon Atem.

Favourite colour: I like my colour like my wine—burgundy. (I actually like all sort of shades of purple, violet and red, but I don't know how to list them.)

Tagging: Wow uh who do I know around here who is still active?

@twilightknight17 for sure (although I'm sure you already did it), @wingsonghalo maybe? Uuuh, I think @the-wanderer-of-thoughts and @istadris? You know, considering how inactive I am here, I think it's already a lot, but if you're not in the list and want to do it too, be my guest!

#lia blabla #tag game #it's been weeks and i still have no idea what i am doing #why is formatting such a nightmare #and sorry this is so long wow #do people really actually read these things or are they here for the writer to pause and consider how they'd answer #lia in fandoms #i promise next time i figure out how to insert cuts in posts i thought it was something that was automatic

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callmearcturus · 1 year

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I'm honestly very grateful to this bluesite for just demolishing my flinch reactions to cunt and faggot.

/points up. That may be the first time I've ever written those words without self-censoring them. And heads up, those words are going to come up a lot in the following paragraphs.

I remember the first time I reconsidered the term faggot actually. I was still following Cecil Baldwin (of Welcome to Night Vale) on Twitter (yanno, back when twitter was a thing) and he was on a flight or something and posted that he was reading a book called Faggot Wisdom and shared some excerpts.

And my immediate mental reaction, which thankfully did not leave my brain, was "I wish you wouldn't use that term."

And that stopped me dead in my fucking tracks because wow, what the actual fuck, self? Cecil Baldwin is a faggot, that is the term he has casually used in the past, and its something that he identifies with. He's an HIV-positive gay man who has likely been through shit I cannot imagine as someone who exists in that nebulous space of having enough fame to have a following and notoriety but not enough to, like, afford the insulation that celebrities have.

That was like the literally day and moment I decided I needed to break my flinch reaction to faggot. Because the people I care about are faggots, and to some (okay, many), I am a faggot. And the one thing I know from the bottom of my fucking heart is that whoever is being called a faggot is my ally and I will defend them.

/points up. All of that was still difficult to type and I'm resisting the urge to redact some of it, but I am also a conscious human who has control of my actions, so I will not. But the important thing is that I'm not flinching anymore. I currently lack the power and confidence to use faggot casually, but maybe I will get there one day. I will not, however, shy from it anymore.

The same goes for cunt. (Context, I am an American from the South/Midwest.) I grew up with the understanding that I would never ever in my life even think of uttering the word cunt to another human being, that is was The Big Misogynist Slur as it reduces women down to their use for sex and reproduction. And I nodded along to that for a very long time, it made sense.

But these days, I have... essentially no inclination to attach the vagina to women, lmao. Everyone is a work in progress, but I am fairly pleased and at peace with how my brain doesn't really make the boobs/vag = woman connection anymore. Someone's gender is mental and emotional and maybe spiritual, and their body is just the vehicle carrying all of that around, yanno?

So the Hip And New trend of tumblr using cunt in the specific comedic way we now do has been extremely helpful in decoding that flinch reaction to the word. It's a funny word! It can convey so much so quickly! And on this hellsite, it has no gender connotation. Everyone, regardless of their biology or gender identity, can serve cunt, and that's great.

I think I have to work a bit to get to the point of uses these terms myself, but. They are my terms and they don't need to hurt me, and I don't want to give them power to hurt others.

BIG SIGH. Anyway. Just something I was thinking about.

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iguessitsjustme · 27 days

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*flips hair* I have never blocked anyone because I'm nosy, but I want to know #4!

What was the last straw that made you finally block that annoying person?

I am also nosy...to my detriment sometimes. Which is why it takes me so long to actually block people that I should probably have blocked a lot sooner. But I do have a story.

4. what was the last straw that made you finally block that annoying person?

I've kind of vaguely mentioned this when asked before but I'll talk a tiny bit more specifically here. Not too specific because I'm not trying to start shit buuuuut....also they are definitely not the only person I've blocked but I think they might be the most recent one? I don't know.

About a year(?) ago I had to block a couple of people because they were starting to make me uncomfortable. I was being tagged in all sorts of posts (and to be clear the posts weren't bad, they were even positive! kind posts even) and something about what was happening was rubbing me the wrong way.

Actually before I keep talking about this, I feel like I need to talk a tiny bit about myself because it's important context. This also might surprise people considering how much I overshare on here, but I am, at my core, an extremely private person. I do not like attention. I get anxiety when my follower count goes up here (genuinely love all of my followers and this is definitely a me problem). I live in fear of being secretly recording for some stranger's tiktoks. I don't want my face seen by people. I do not wish to be perceived. It is 100% a trauma response and I am aware of all of this. And this is extremely important to why I blocked these people.

It is slightly easier for me on tumblr than it is in real life, but this is quite literally my safe space that I have built for myself. It's why I'm comfortable sharing things here. I have no issue being tagged in posts. I have no issue with people wanting to talk about things I've said or if they tag me because they want me to see something. So getting tagged in seemingly genuinely kind and positive posts should be fine, right?

Well, yes and no. The posts I was being tagged in felt...hollow to me. Like I was being tagged in an attempt to build a platform instead of because they actually wanted to tag me. I was being tagged in posts thanking me for participating in a fandom which kind of made it seem like the reason I was posting about anything was for accolades and that...is simply not why I'm here. I am not here to gain a following. I am not here to build a platform or to help others build a platform. I am here to post silly little posts about my shows and my life and also now keep track of character's glasses. If I wanted to build a platform, tumblr is not what I would be using (and honestly if I wanted to, I genuinely think I could be pretty successful at building a platform and gaining followers and other platforms. I would consider myself highly marketable if I wanted to go into that industry).

But the last straw for me? What finally did it? Why I finally blocked the people whose vibes have felt off for me and clearly did not know me well enough to know that doing what they were doing was quite literally the opposite of something I am comfortable with? It was when someone (again not naming names because I don't think they had bad intentions but were just so horrendously misguided as to allow themselves to ignorantly do this) who did not follow me, did not reblog any of my posts, did not like any of my posts, had never replied to any of my posts, nor had they ever interacted with my blog or with me in any type of way (I checked because I'm nosy enough and petty enough to have checked that) tagged me in a post. To thank me. For participating in a fandom. And I am not saying anyone has to do any of those things. But if you're gonna tag me to thank me for participating...perhaps maybe at least like one of my posts about the thing you're thanking me for?

To be clear, this was a show that a lot of people were talking about at the time. I was not the only person tagged in these posts. I was for sure not the only person talking about the show. In fact, I probably posted a tenth of what other people posted. If that. And my posts, honestly, weren't very well thought out or coherent. They were my typical little silly posts. And I know people like those. But they weren't the same as what other people were posting. And to be tagged by someone that seemed to only care when it was something that could gain them notes and followers instead of someone who actually enjoyed what I was saying? Felt strange to me. And rather than start beef with a stranger on the internet I blocked them.

Blocking them solved the issue that was making me uncomfortable as peacefully as I felt I could. They no longer had the ability to tag me in strangely performative posts and I didn't start yelling at a stranger and potentially ruin their day. Or start drama that no one else needed to be involved in. I did make a small post about it at the time mostly because I felt so weirded out and I did feel a little bit bad about blocking them. But it was such a quiet thing that no one noticed and everyone moved on with their lives. Made things happier. For me at least. Probably happier for them too.

Choose Violence Ask Game

#ask game #choose violence ask game #i also want to be clear that i love being tagged in things #this was an extremely weird situation all around and likely won't happen again #because with the exception of this every time i've been tagged has been a genuine tag #and it makes me giggle and kick my feet and makes my day every time #im typically thinking awwww someone thought of me i love it how nice #this was just...strange. the vibes were off and i had to peace out #it's like when my old roommate would throw parties and invite me and i would go cause i lived there #but even though his friends were nice they weren't my people so i would irish goodbye to my older brother's apartment #i'm a big fan of just...leaving. no need to explain why. especially if the why might hurt and it's not something that someone needs to hear #cause i'm sure most people do not have the same issues i have with being perceived

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deadeyedaisy · 2 months

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Tales of Destiny ~PROUST~ Forgotten Chronicle rough summary

I wasn't sure where else to post this, and Tumblr seemed like the one that would get the most use out of it.

So, I streamed my blind run through TODDC with Kio for the past several months. I ended up getting really into TOD from how much cleaner the presentation of the story and characters were over the PSX version, and was really frustrated that nobody had translated the drama CD, which had been hiding like 95% of Leon's characterization until the remake came along.

I kept a notepad of stuff to talk about during those streams. Sometimes it was off-topic things, sometimes it was little tangents about parts of the game that I thought of over the week until we'd play again. Sometimes it was summaries of supplemental material that was never localized. But most of the time, that material was translated by a fan.

Nobody has fully translated Proust. I wanted it to be translated. So I listened to it as hard as I could and summarized as best I could. The following are the unedited notes as I wrote them to be read during stream, rather than a direct translation or anything formal. I'm not good enough at Japanese to fully translate it. I'm so not good at Japanese that there's probably a lot of errors throughout this summary, too. I hope someone eventually comes along and gives us a full translation.

Also note that I'm not great at recognizing the voices of anyone that isn't the main cast of protagonists, so I probably mix up the antagonists or the generals' identities a lot.

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So I went back through the drama cd, and I think I've got a few more little details. I could be wrong about a lot of this since there's no translation and I am really fucking bad at Japanese. But this should actually clear up a lot of misconceptions that we, or I had throughout this entire game. Foolish me for just believing everything TVTropes told me instead of trying to comb the drama cd myself.

(track 1-01 Thunder + track 1-03 Lullaby) Chris tried to escape with both children, but Hugo sent the goon squad after her?? and they managed to take Leon and mortally wound Chris. She drags herself back to the mansion to see Leon again and asks him not to hate Hugo, because this certainly isn't the same kind person she married. [I previously summarized it based on this post, which does a much better job of summarizing track 1-03: https://jeredu.tumblr.com/post/136918641610/so-after-the-horrible-sad-feels-from-the-emilio]

(track 1-02 History That Was Forgotten is just Leon saying the title of the CD)

(track 1-04 Yes, My Lady) Less than 2 years before the game starts. The girls in Leon's class aren't very good at dance lessons yet, so he complains to Marian that all the girls are stupid-- oh but not you Marian, it's only other girls that are dumb. lol I can't catch why Leon's mad at Hugo this time, but Marian sticks up for Hugo, since he's the one who pretty much discovered how useful Lens could be to further technology and make modern life easier, and has for the most part made it all affordable. She's also grateful that he hired her when she had nothing. Marian wants Leon to make friends with the girls because she's worried he'll be all alone. Leon says he's fine alone and that he'll only grow stronger, and to distract Marian, decides to teach her the dance he learned, calling her "my lady". At the end, he says he'll be fine as long as he has Marian. Hugo walks in on them and Leon quickly makes an excuse but Hugo just puts him down for hanging with the staff and tells him to get to sword practice. Leon seems excited for it. Leon whispers to Marian that they'll practice dancing again. Marian says she's looking forward to it, but when he leaves, she sadly mumbles that he's a pitiful child. (Not in a mean way)

(track 1-05 True) [Oops I didn't cover this one. It's just villainy anyway. Who listens to Proust to hear Mictlan-Hugo monologue?]

(track 1-06 Man of the Mask) I forgot about this detail and its MASSIVE importance. In the original, Leon and Hugo's relation wasn't known for a long time. In the remake, their relation is paraded around loudly. Hugo will not let anyone forget that Leon is his son, and Leon's motivation is to not be a nepo baby. But in the original, specifically in the drama CD, Hugo doesn't want their relation known. He doesn't want Leon around while he's doing business because it might reveal their relation. He reprimands him for coming home while he's doing business and tells him not to come home so often. Leon was actually excited to let him know of one of his missions' successes, on his 15th birthday no less. Chaltier tries to comfort Leon when he's basically told to gtfo, but Leon tells him he's not sad at all, and that he just wants to be acknowledged by someone as skilled as Hugo. His cadence is fairly fond as he says all this, but he's awfully insistent about it. Like thou-doth-protest-too-much insistent. Leon thinks he saw a masked man, but Chaltier says he doesn't sense anyone. They go on their way, but a filtered voice of Hugo calls Leon's name.

(track 1-07 Emilio) The following track makes it more clear that yes, he was actually very fucking upset about it. I already talked about this track since it was one of the only 2 tracks that were fully translated by someone else. Where Marian has a little private birthday party for him and he breaks down. With the added context of the previous track, the breakdown makes a bit more sense. He's just been told and brushed off again by Hugo even after so many smashing successes. Took it upon himself to put up a strong front in front of Chaltier. Then Marian does this gesture of kindness that I guess makes him feel like he's being treated like a child or mocked, and that's the last straw. Marian is of course calling him Emilio, and he refuses that name because Emilio is worthless, nobody needs Emilio, and he's all alone. He insists he's Leon Magnus, because he's at least useful as a tool for Hugo. Marian doesn't like him calling himself a tool. Says he's her precious Emilio. And Leon cries. [Previously summarized based on this post, which actually has a full translation!: https://jeredu.tumblr.com/post/136880537875/jeredu-spoilers-for-tales-of-destiny-for]

(track 1-08 Family) Next track takes place a year later and has Leon being the wunderkind beating everybody and being taken under Finley's wing. They've all got praise for him but are a little put off by him being so uptight. Late at night, Leon sneaks into Marian's room through her window because of the lecture he got about COMING HOME TOO OFTEN jfc. He's excited to tell Marian about officially working with the knights, and asks to dance with her. I think I skipped a bit. Leon only started trying to become a knight because Hugo told him to, so that he'd have a pawn within the castle to help further Oberon's goals. I think he moved out of the mansion after the last track to dedicate himself more fully to cementing his position there?? I'm probably wrong. But he's been a lot happier this way. Later that night, Chaltier tries to suggest that Leon just continues living like this and become a full fledged and honest knight instead of working for Hugo, because all of the generals seem to like him and are nice people. Buuuut Leon's already fallen asleep. Boo

(track 1-09 Nightmare) Next track has Leon and Finley talking and they think Greybaum's sus. They meet with Greybaum and Chal also thinks he's sus. That night, Leon has a nightmare where a man is telling him he can save Rutee. Except Leon doesn't know who Rutee is yet, or her name. The man is wearing a mask like the one from the mansion. It seems to be the real Hugo. He attacks Leon when he knocks his mask off I think?? and I guess Leon wakes up and is back at the mansion temporarily? I have no idea what's going on here but Hugo's not doing great and Leon rushes to his aid but Hugo basically tells him to gtfo his house again. I think real Hugo is fighting Mictlan, because Leon says something about Berserius. Belserius. Berselius. Fuck it. Scene change and Leon's at a tavern or something. The waitress fawns a bit, showing his good reputation has spread. Leon thinks about the nightmare and what the heck a Rutee is. Then he overhears some guy talking about a demonic lens hunter dude and the waitress is like oh nah you mean that girl Rutee? and Leon all but trips over himself to go violently interrogate the waitress. The guy she was talking to gets mad and tries to attack Leon and a fight starts. Finley shows up and slaps Leon and reprimands him and I think threatens him?? But Leon got the information he wanted out of the waitress.

(track 2-01 Masquerade) Next track. The villains talk stealing the Eye of Atamoni. A masquerade ball is held in Seinegald. Leon's all ready to be big bad security but Finley says he should blend in and dance. But he ain't got no fancy clothes! So Finley arranges to get him some fancy clothes. He's about to arrange for a partner too but Leon's like nah I got a girl for this and yoinks Marian up. She's worried she's not allowed to attend such a party, but Leon assures her she's part of the mission so it's fine. She tries to make excuses to not go but he shoots them all down. He sounds like he's having just oodles of fun on the carriage ride with her to the ball. He's laughing and smiling and it's just great. This moment is probably literally the happiest Leon will ever be in his entire life lol He… sneaks her in through the BACK DOOR and gets stopped by guards who ask who dis. And he says, "my partner" and they say they can't let randos in and he says NO SHE'S MY PARTNER and they say :/ that's not good enough bro, come on, and Marian takes his arm all suggestive like and says "What part of partner don't you understand ;)" and they let them in??? okay But Marian hasn't received her dress yet, so Leon's waiting for her to get dressed. And Chal teases him a bunch implying Leon's nervous to see her in her fancy dress. Leon tells him to shut up but Chal notes he's blushing really hard. But, Leon suddenly sees the masked man again, and this time Chal sees him too. Leon attacks but he disappears. He hears the voice and he's big mad 'cause he thinks he's being jerked around so he shouts a lot. Marian hears him shouting and rushes to him and real-Hugo goes whoops sorry about that I guess lmao and goes away. The ball gets into full swing and allll the girls are wowed by how pretty Leon's partner is. Marian says she feels awkward and Leon tells her she's beautiful, but she still doesn't think she should have come. He asks her to dance, she tries to make excuses not to, but he keeps asking, calling her "Lady" again like when they danced alone ;A; aaaa So they dance, and Leon is just so entranced and whispers that he wants to go far far away together to a place with only them, that's quiet and warm. He says something like he lost such a promised place inside of him a long time ago, but feels that it's also right there with her, and he's about to say something that MIGHT have been a confession, but they're interrupted by an attack and are separated. SO YEAH I'D SAY HIS FEELINGS FOR HER ARE PRETTY ROMANTIC. HOLY SHIT. I felt like I was listening to one of those listener-POV CDs where they do nothing but sweet-talk you, gosh. Whether his feelings are actually romantic or not, he's still just entirely fucking smitten with her. oh my god.

(track 2-02 Venomous Snake) Next track, I have no idea what's going on because I'm not familiar enough with all the villains' voices, but it's villain stuff. I think it's Greybaum mostly, and they're messing with King Isaac, the Phandaria King. And Greybaum is evil monologuing but Leon was hiding in the room and ambushes him. Hugo shows up before Leon can do any damage and something happens or is talked about, idk, villains get away. Leon's like what the fuck, dad, they tried to kill the king. Hugo says Isaac's spent too long in office and ain't doin his job right no more. So it's fiiine just let it go, besides, Graybaum's gonna be a useful tool. And the word "tool" sets Leon off 'cause it's always about tools with Hugo, and Hugo goes YEAH, A TOOL, A TOOL JUST LIKE YOU. I'VE BUILT HIM UP AND I'M TAKING ADVANTAGE OF HIM, JUST LIKE I DID TO YOUUUU. And he demands Leon apologize but Leon says no, he's done being Hugo's puppet, he's going to live for himself, he's not going to accept this shitty fate anymore, he's going to carve his own path and make a place for himself in Seinegald. And Hugo goes "Ohoho what silly thoughts Finley's put in your head. Sure, you could do all that, you could escape me no problem, you're good enough for it, but I wonder how Marian is doing~ Sure hope she's okay after getting separated from you. It's just such a scary world out there, you never know when or where such a fragile little thing like her could get got." So basically the ongoing threat on Marian's life has begun. It's not explicitly stated, but obviously the implication is that Leon could leave and take Marian with him, but Hugo will get to her one way or another. Then it's just 20 full seconds of Leon desperately calling and looking for Marian.

(track 2-03 Requiem) Next track, he finds Marian and clings to her and sobs in relief that she's okay. She says yeah it's okay I'm fine, but Leon just cries harder. Later after he's calmed down, he brings up that far away warm place he spoke about. He wonders where that could even be anymore. Probably somewhere further than the moon. He wonders if he can go there. Then it's very suddenly Finley's funeral. People are crying. The priest is praying. People are swearing vengeance. Hugo, Chaltier, and Finley's voice echo in Leon's head. Hugo coercing Leon into poisoning Finley. Chaltier asking him not to do it. Finley telling Leon they're alike in that they both lost their parents at birth. That he'd like for Leon to think of him as his father, because he thinks of Leon as his son, I think. Hugo reminding him where his place is, and that that's never going to change. Finley succumbing to the poison, in disbelief that it was Leon, and desperately asking why. Leon's sure he's never going to get to that place. Hugo and friends do some villain talk and make some snide remarks at Leon, and he just says it's fine. He's defeated at this point.

(track 2-04 Rutee) Next track has Leon on his way to Cresta to look for whoever Rutee is. Chaltier recognizes the name a little but doesn't remember. Rutee runs into him and runs away, but Chaltier recognizes Atwight on her back right away and they give chase. Rutee's giving gifts to the kids at the orphanage, is asked how she made the money for this and she's like "eehh I worked really hard :D" Chal finally remembers Rutee was the name Chris spoke of before she died and he's super excited that Leon's not all alone, that he still has his sister. But Leon just runs away. Chal's like what the fuck, where are you going, and Leon says it's been 15 years, so it doesn't matter, they're not family. Chal keeps trying to get him to go back to Rutee, insisting she must have been looking for her family for a long time, and that he should reach out to her. Leon admits that he's scared that Rutee won't accept him. Chal tells him that's stupid. Leon admits he's scared of Rutee also betraying him like Hugo did, and cries that he's truly all alone. The track ends.

(track 2-05 Flow of Fate) Next track, it's revealed Greybaum's theft of the Eye of Atamoni was actually not in the plan. He did that on his own and betrayed them. They plan for Leon to lead the investigation and gather the swordian users. Leon asks if Hugo knows who wields Atwight, and Hugo, like a fox, says mmmyessss. During Leon's first real meeting with Rutee, while she goes off on him, he's thinking to himself that he wishes he met her sooner, but he's too dirtied to face her for real by now. Chaltier insists to him that it's not too late, but Leon refuses. A bunch of scenes of Leon traveling with Stahn's group pass. Leon thinks about how Rutee has good friends and a home and family to return to, and feels even worse that he can't be happy for her. He hates himself for it, but he can't help it. Chaltier tells him he could become a part of her family. Leon says it'd be nice, since he's being shown such a warm place, but he can't escape his fate. More scenes pass, and Leon is moved by Stahn's resolve. He thinks maybe he was wrong about fate, because everyone is fighting. More scenes pass, and Leon is even moved by Batista and Greybaum, because they went against Hugo. Even if they couldn't win against their fates, they still tried. He's confused and doesn't know what to do, but Chaltier doesn't have answers for him. The only thing he knows he can do is protect Marian. The only reason he has to keep living is Marian.

It continues in the mines. Hugo and friends say they need to buy time to escape Stahn's group. He tells Leon to stall them as long as possible, and then detonate an explosive. Tells him exactly what will happen, down to the sea water flooding in. So Leon absolutely knows he's going to die if he agrees to do this. Leon asks to be alone with Marian, as his first and final request as Hugo's son. Marian observes that Leon doesn't want to go through with this. Leon says it's fine, he'll just do what he's told. He asks why Marian is here, why she's still a maid for Hugo. Marian answers it's because Hugo was trying to save the world, or whatever. She owes him a lot. So she'll do whatever she's told, too. Leon asks what'll happen if he dies. Marian says she'll probably never stop crying. Leon asks how much, for how long, because it's not possible to cry for him for her whole life. Says she'll probably cry for a bit, but eventually she'll meet someone he doesn't know, fall in love, get married, and have children, and she'll forget all about him, and then he'll truly be gone and not exist anymore. He'll disappear. Leon cries, really hard. He pulls himself together, apologizes, says she should go. She goes, but she calls after him that it was fun. That being with him was like a dream. He says quietly to himself that, yeah, it was like a dream to him, too. (The wording is different from the opening song! Important to note because the remake did a full on title drop in its climax. The opening song is 「夢であるように」, but the wording here is 「夢みたい」. But it's still probably a 100% intentional reference to the opening song.) [I cut off here because I previously summarized these two posts about the end of this track, which is an exchange with Chaltier: https://jeredu.tumblr.com/post/136997902840/i-dunno-if-its-possible-to-fall-in-love-with-a https://jeredu.tumblr.com/post/137057162215/checked-with-a-friend-who-knows-more-japanese-and]

[I yada-yada'd track 2-06 Father, Friend because I already summarized it previously based on this post: https://jeredu.tumblr.com/post/143045097730/i-finally-typed-up-a-summary-of-father-friend]

(track 2-07 -Epilogue- Yes, My Lady) In the final track, Rutee is visiting Marian. She asks Marian to live with her. Marian declines, saying she has to keep Emilio's room clean for him for when he comes back. Rutee says he's already gone, but Marian interrupts and asks Rutee to dance. She teaches her how to dance. She calls Rutee "My lady" like Leon did with her.

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May I just say, if Leon retained his character from the drama CD in the remake, he absolutely would have broken down crying after Stahn convinced him they could work together to save Marian. And maybe hugged him or held his outstretched hand with both of his. While crying. Drama CD Leon is a huge crybaby and I'm so here for him. I was disappointed he didn't get to cry through the remake.

And also that hot damn, Hikaru Midorikawa was allowed to emote SO MUCH MORE in the drama CD than in the entirety of the remake, not even counting all the crying he does.

#Tales of Destiny #Leon Magnus #Marian Fustel #Tales of Destiny PROUST Forgotten Chronicle #translation

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