Tumgik
#you better believe I've thought about this
i-cant-sing · 8 hours
Text
Time Traveller AU pt 4
Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. AU masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more.
Two weeks had passed since you and Baldwin had met Salauddin. As much as you tried to stay in your room to try and work on your time machine a bit, Sibylla was far too excited with the wedding preparations and was dragging you along. Even the maids were too eager to do everything, be it dressing you up or accompanying you around the castle. You suppose it was their way of trying to get in your good graces so that you'll choose them to be your court ladies. Its all politics really. The few moments that you did try to have for yourself, they'd be with Baldwin. You cant ever have meals without him, even if you were sneaky. You theorised that Baldwin probably had someone in the kitchen to inform him the moment you're having a meal made so that he can join you too (and proceed to handfeed you the first and last bite from his plate).
You decide its finally time to bring up the agenda you had in mind. "Baldwin?" You call softly, earning a surprised look from him because he's used to your admonishing tone. "Yes, princess?" he quickly closes his book, giving you his full attention.
"Do you think... it could be arranged for me to travel?" He raised a brow. "Travel? Where?"
You mustered up the courage. "Egypt."
"Egypt? Why?" Of course he was alarmed because at the time Egypt was under Muslim rule, and Salauddin was the sultan of Egypt. It was his territory and it was far too.
"Why not? I thought you said you would show me the world." You reminded him of his promise when he was trying to bribe you into marrying him.
He sighed and nodded. "That can be arranged. Come on, now." He took your hand and pulled you towards him as he moved towards the corner of his room, keeping you facing him. "I always keep my promises, princess." He whispered kissing your chin before turning you around to face the mirror.
"See? Now you've seen the world. In fact-" He spins you back to him before turning you towards the mirror again. "-ooh! Now you've seen the world twice!" He keeps on spinning you back and forth a couple of more times making you laugh before you get dizzy and lightly smack his arm.
"Be serious for once, Baldwin!" You glare at him. "Dont you get tired from your flirting attempts?"
His eyes twinkled as he cupped your face with his hands. "Never!"
With your face still in his hands, you repeated your request. "I want to go to Egypt, Baldwin." "But why? Do you want something from there? Because I can have it brought here-"
"No." You cant believe you have to manipulate him. Eh, he'll get over it. "I... I dont have a family, Baldwin. I was an orphan and well- things werent great at my orphanage, so I ran away. I wanted to find out about my family, about my parents. What happened to them. So I've been travelling here and there. I suppose thats how I developed an interest in history." You could seem his resolve melting with the way his eyes softened, so you continued on. "Please, let me go to Egypt. I think... I think I might find some clues about my family there. And if I dont..." you chuckled. "Well, I could always write something on Salauddin."
"Do you really want to go?" You nodded eagerly. He smiled. "Alright. I'll talk to Salauddin. If he gives permission, then you can go. I dont think I could accompany you there. Guy has been stirring up some problems here and I cant have him try to start a rebellion."
"Its okay, I can go alone." "Well, not alone. I'll send my best knights along." Shit. Oh well. Better them than Baldwin.
Breaking the pattern for once, you decided to initiate affection and gave him a hug. "Thank you, Baldwin!" You heard him inhale sharply, his body stilling for a moment before his arms slowly but surely wrapped around your frame, and you felt him melt into you a bit. This is psychology 101, okay? Pavlov's dog experiment, if you reward him for "good behaviour", he is more prone to be "good".
If only you knew this may have been the first time in more than a decade that he's been hugged. And now that he has... it only cements more in his mind that your hugs are his- you are his.
-
As expected, Salauddin agreed and allowed you to come to Egypt. However, Baldwin still delayed your trip by almost a week under the pretence to make "necessary arrangements for your trip".
It was just him trying to find excuses to make you stay longer, or even change your mind about leaving at all.
"You know it's going to be soooo hot in Egypt? What if you get a heat stroke?"
"I'm going with Salauddin. He's been living in the desert for so long, I'm sure he'll teach me how to protect myself from the sun."
"You- what if you get thirsty? You won't get cold water!"
You looked at him baffled. "Salauddin literally had a box of ice in the desert- he served us ice water. Did you forget? I'm beginning to think you might be suffering from a heat stroke."
He huffed. "Surely, you cant be safe in Egypt without me by your side. People will attack you for being my weakness!"
Your heart skipped a beat. I'm his weakness?
You shake your head. Not the time. "How would they even recognise me? I'd be in a niqaab! Besides, I thought you were sending your "best knights" with me." You said turning around to fold your clothes.
Baldwin's hand reached for your wrist and he pulled you back to him, your body stiffening against his hard chest. Damn, how long did he work out for? Just a few weeks ago, he couldnt even stand for long without passing out.
He rested his chin on your shoulder. "I'll miss you." He mumbled, and the corner of your mouth quirked up. "I know." You replied as you tried to break out of his arms and return to your packing. But Baldwin spun you around, his brows furrowed. "You wont miss me?" His eyes held deep concern, while his voice reminded you of a scared child.
He's adorable.
His grip on your arms tightened the longer you stayed silent. Fearing he'd change his mind about the trip, you cupped his face and brought it closer to yours, staring into his eyes.
"No." Hurt flashed through across those blue pools, but you continued. "Because the mere thought that you would be waiting here for me will make me want to return home early." His face softened.
"Home? You consider this your home?" He whispered, clearly affected by your words.
Oh, he's about to die when he hears what you've got next.
Your eyes smiled. "You're my home, Baldwin." You knew if this was an anime, then right now Baldwin would be animated with a pink background with halo behind him, and probably cupids shooting arrows and crying.
His reaction proved you right. Baldwin pulled you in for a tight hug, hiding his head into your shoulder and before you either of you could react, you both fell on your bed, though Baldwin didnt let go of you.
When he finally pulled away, he caressed your cheek with one hand. "What?" you asked with a lazy smile. He didnt say anything, just kept tracing your face with his fingers, looking at you as if he was in a trance. Considering you were leaving tomorrow, you didnt move from the bed. You didnt want to break whatever fantasy Baldwin was in (truthfully, you didnt have the heart for it. He looked like something was healing inside him.) So you stayed there next to him, letting Baldwin run his fingers though your hair and falling asleep to that.
"How did I get so lucky?" He whispered to himself, still looking at you in awe.
Baldwin didnt sleep that night. No, he wanted to memorise your face.
-
The next morning, you were sent off with a small entourage, even though Baldwin wanted to send you with a bigger one, but you reasoned with him that a large group of people would only draw more attention to you.
"Be safe, princess." Baldwin said, pressing his lips to your forehead. You smiled and nodded. "I'll be back before you know it." He gave you a lopsided smile before pulling out a pouch and placing it in your hands. It was heavy. "I have given the knight commander gold to cater to your every need, buy anything you like but- I still want you to have this. Just in case." You peeked into the pouch and your eyes bulged out at the gold coins in there. "Its too much, Baldwin. I cant take-" He cupped your cheek. "I insist. If- God forbid, things go wrong, I want you to use this to get out." You leaned into his touch. "Nothing will happen to me, Baldwin." He prays so (he and his church is praying for your safe journey). "I know, but please- keep it. For my peace of mind." You finally conceded, giving him a hug before starting your journey.
From Jerusalem, you first reached Salauddin's caravan in the desert, where the Kurdish leader was waiting for you.
"So, have you come up with a plan to leave Baldwin?" He asked, guiding you inside his tent, taking note of the niqaab you were wearing. It was the one Baldwin had helped embroirdered for you- he recognised the ugly flower on your sleeve.
"Its not a priority at the moment." You lied, deciding it wouldnt be good to reveal all your cards to him. After all, he is a conquerer. You dont know what kind of games he may be playing.
He raised a brow at you, setting up the chess board. "Then why are you going to Egypt?" He wanted to gauge your expressions, but your eyes were solely focused on the chess board as you made the first move.
"I have some matters to take care of. Personal matters." You watched him move his black pawn.
"Anything I could help with?" He asked. You took his bishop. "No, you have already helped a lot. Thank you. But I must ask- how did you just agree to Baldwin when he asked if I could go to Egypt?"
He scoffed, taking your knight. "You think I did this for free? Please, your husband had to pay a pretty penny to take his "little heaven's angel" through the desert safely. Honestly, how have you bewitched him?" Salauddin gazed at you. "Either he's too stupid or you're much smarter than you look, the latter is something I highly doubt, so it only leads to one conclusion- Baldwin is stupid." He mocked.
"Hey! Dont insult my fiance." You admonished, looking back at the board to make your next move. He leaned forward with his elbows on the table, looking at you expectantly. "Or else what?"
Your eyes finally made contact with his, and he could feel he had insulted you somehow. "Or else... you'll regret it." You threatened, which he didnt take seriously, because- why would he? You're nobody.
His eyes lit up. "If you were any less threatening, Y/n, you'd be a dandelion." You rolled your eyes, clearly not amused. "Say whatever you want, but you and I both know you didnt do it for the money."
"What do you mean?"
"Mmhm, I dont know. Dont you have enough money already? I think- oh, you made a mistake there." you smirked taking his queen and now his king was left wide open for attack. "I think... you were scared to say no."
"Excuse me?" He moved his king. You chased him with your knight.
"You heard me." Your rook pushed his king into the corner. Frustratedly, he tries to escape by moving his king diagonally, but you were quicker with your bishop.
"Why would I be afraid of a man whose own brother-in-law is starting a rebellion against him and he's been allowing him to do so just because his sister claims to love him?" He taunted at the messed up family dynamics. Of course he knew how ready Baldwin was to give his kingdom away to Guy to be perished, but that was before he was cured of his leprosy.
You had boxed his king from all sides. No escape. "Why wouldnt you be? The same man was only just a 16 year old when he defeated you on the battlefield devastatingly. And that too, when he was so sick, his face was melting off." You knocked down his king. "Can you imagine how strong he is now that he's cured?"
His anger was subtle. Eyes glaring at you, mouth pulled into a thin line, his nostrils flared ever so slightly.
Clearly, you had struck a nerve.
"You shouldn't play with fire." He warned. You twirled his king between your fingers. "Who said I was playing?"
You both sat in silence for a few more moments, with you mostly relishing in your victory. "So, what do I get for winning again?"
His eyes narrowed, though they werent as hostile as they were a few moments ago, "You get to keep your head."
"Am I always playing for my life everytime we play chess?" "Yes." "Huh. So how does it feel to know that I will outlive you?" You teased, making him roll his eyes as he stood up, leading you out of his tent.
"My men are going to accompany you to Egypt. They're ready, so-" he looked at you with a scowl. "Leave."
"Aww, thank you, aljedu!" You waved, leaving before he could get mad at you for calling him "grandpa".
-
The journey to Egypt took a little over 4 days, but you really cant complain with the small army of people at your service. Even the men and women Salauddin had sent with you made sure to cater your every need, and more importantly, help you and your entourage survive the desert.
The pyramids were still as magnificent as in the future, though the area was now surrouded by a bustling market of sorts. As your caravan moved further into the town, you saw a large centre built that had the traditional Islamic architecure elements- huge domes, minarets, white pillars. The colourful tile works (prominents turqoise and dark blue themes) and a few gothic arches displayed the catholic influence as well.
"What's that?" You had asked one of the knights. "Thats the madarasas." You nodded as you recalled reading about it in "the golden age of Islam" era. Madarasa was essentially an educational institution that were devoted to the study of law, maths, science, medicine, religion, philosphy and other subjects. The complex itself consisted of a mosque, a library, a boarding house. They were home to both students and professors, and were maintained by charitable endowments and unlike a modern day college, it lacked a specific curriculum or institutionalise system of certification. Information was usually passed on informally from teacher to student, and both men and women were able to attend.
It was heaven for anyone who seeked to learn, and this was exactly where you would be going to get help for your time machine.
But that would have to wait, as you were now lead to Salauddin's palace for rest. It was massive and just like the madarasa, it was also beautifully constructed. The palace spread over on a large area of land, and although it was was around 80-100 feet in height with those humongous pillars at each corner, the palace was largest in horizontal dimensions. Inside, after passing a throng of soldiers stationed who kept their gaze lowered even though she and most of the females were completely veiled, you saw a huge pool that continued throughout the palace, even through sharp corners. It almost looked like the castle was built around the turquoise pool. Despite it being hot as hell outside, the palace was cool and insulated even though there were no air conditioners or fans and was open enough to be well ventilated. You had seen the palm date trees through the city, but there was a huge new variety of exotic plants inside that you dont think would be able to survive in the desert.
Egyptians were truly ahead of their time.
-
After dinner, you were sitting in your room with your maids. They were talking about the hospitality of Muslims and all, helping you unpack and get ready for bed.
"Alright, time to sleep." You said with a yawn and they all immediately began leaving. All but one maid, who had to stay by your side at all times even when you were bathing. Apparently, Baldwin had ordered her to do so because he didnt trust anyone in the foreign lands.
"You can go to your chambers with the others, Isabella." You smiled politely at the blonde girl, no older than 19. She shook her head, her brows furrowing in concern. "No, princess. It is my duty to be with you at all times. What if you need me for something?"
"I wont." You smiled tightly. The sooner she left, the sooner you could sneak out of here and go to the madarasa. "You must be tired from all the travel. Please, go rest. I insist." But it was like she couldnt imagine committing a grave sin like this.
Fine. If she's not going to leave then-
"Isabella..." you come close to her, fiddling with your thumbs. "Can I trust you, Isabella?"
She nodded obediently. "Of course, my princess."
"I need to get out of the palace for some time." You tell her slowly, letting her absorb the words. Automatically, she responds. "I can have them arrange a tour tomorrow-"
"No, Isabella-" you let out a distressed sigh, rubbing your forehead as you paused for a dramatic effect. "I need to go out right now."
"Now? At night time?" The young girl wondered what possible emergency you could possibly have. "Oh, um- well, I can have the guards prepare a-"
"No!" You turned around, reaching for her hands. Isabella's eyes widened. A princess- royalty is touching her? You tilted your head sligtly, eyes making a desperate plea.
"I have business that I need to take care of on my own. I-" you sigh dramatically before looking at her with most remorseful eyes. "I have to find my family. I need to- I cant get married without them attending. I- I- just need them and I know! I know they're here! I can feel it!" Isabella's face softened at your "distress" but you can still see her hesitance, and so before she could protest, you squeezed her hands. "I tell everyone I am an orphan but- the the truth is... I was a slave. I was stolen from my family and- and I was raised with other slaves. It wasnt until I was 8 that I had ran away. I've been running from my owners for a long time, all while trying to find my family. I dont care if they're dead but- I need to know. I need to know, Isabella. You... you understand why, right?"
Tears slipped from Isabella's eyes as she nodded her head feverently.
"Of course I do, princess!"
-
You pulled your shawl around you tighter. Temperatures really did drop significantly at night in deserts. You were now standing outside the madarasa you had seen earlier in the day after convincing Isabella to stay behind and pretend to be you under the covers in bed while you went out.
The building was much more quiet now, although the market was still alive but people were less and everyone was mindful of how much noise they made.
You quietly walked into the madarasa, pretending to be one of the several servants who were entering the place. Inside, the area was designed in the shape of a rectangle without a roof in the center. The moon light illuminated the common ground in the middle while lanterns were lit all around the 4 sides, numerous doors on each side.
Keeping your veiled head down, you walked past many scholars and students. You wanted to enter a room, but with all the doors closed, you feared you'd enter the wrong room with someone who wouldnt be as forgiving to a stranger entering this place.
But luck was on your side tonight, as your eyes finally caught sight of an ajar door, and you slipped in once you noticed no one was currently in the room. The room was far more spacious than you had anticipated and even though the equipment was far too old, you recognised it to be a sort of lab. Nearing the desk in the corner, you noticed some papers spread around with some maths done. Even though the numbers were in Arabic, you recognised it- algebra.
"What are you doing here, woman?" You look upto find a man in his late 30s with a white turban and a black beard looking at you angrily. "Who sent you here? By Allah! Leave right now or I will have you punished for trespassing and attempting to seduce a pious man you devil-"
"I'll leave but I cant go without correcting your error." You said pointing to his papers.
He blinked at you. "What error?"
You laughed tauntingly. "Im surprised you dont see it." The man's brows furrowed as he marched over to you. "There is no error! I am the finest mathematician of this decade, if not century! I study astrology, biology, physics, alchemy, philosophy and you dare tell me that I made an error?! I am Al-Abbas ibn Bashir! Who are you to correct me woman?!"
You stared at him unamused. "The square root of 8 is not equal to the square root of 4 + square root of 4." You said pointing at his paper. He squinted at you, trying to process your words before looking where you were pointing.
"Yes, it is. It is additive-"
"Not everything is additive." You sighed, pulling out a blank sheet of paper and solving the question step by step for him. "See? Square root of 8 is 2.818 while square root of 4 is 2, so since we have two square roots if 4, it'll be 2 plus 2, which adds to 4."
You sat down on his chair while he looked over your explanation, trying to find an error in your work. There were none.
Abbas looked at you, brows still furrowed. "You- fine, you are correct. I made a small error-" "Small?" You teased. "Yes, small!" He snapped back as you chuckled. He continued. "But that doesnt explain what youre doing in my office. Who are you?"
You rested your head on your palm and stared at him. "I have work for you."
"And what might that be?"
"Hmm, depends. Are your studies purely theory based or... experimental as well?"
Abbas gave you a nod. "I like to mainly focus on theories, but I like to test my theories as well, so from time to time, I do have to conduct experiments as well."
"Fantastic!" You straightened up and grabbed a paper as you began drawing a tool. "Here, I have mentioned the dimensions and I need you to engineer this for me." He took the paper from you. "What exactly is it?"
"I cannot tell you." "Why?" "Well, I'm a scientist too, and I dont want you to stealing my work." You replied as you pulled out your coin purse that Baldwin had given you. "I suppose this would be sufficient for you?" You placed 5 gold coins in front of him.
Abbas scoffed. "You think you can buy me? I dont care for money!" He stood up, turning away from you.
You raised your brow. "Name your price."
He shook his head. "I cannot be bought, woman. I am a man of science. I have far more important things to be doing with my time-"
"Like making more mistakes?" He glared at you. "One small error. Thats all it was. Besides, just because I made a small miscalculation doesnt mean youre smarter than me."
You smiled under your veil.
"Wanna test that?"
-
Abbas had decided to work for you after you had outsmarted him in every subject he presented. I mean you only had to touch the basics of what you had learned in 6th grade science class but he was- bamboozled.
After he had recovered from his shock, he had agreed to work for you on the condition that you check his work for mistakes and impart some of you teachings. He swears he wont copy any of your "works". You gave him the gold coins and told him to work under complete discretion and that you'd meet him again in 3 days time, when you're ready to return to Jerusalem.
The plan was to collect your tool from him and then give him a couple more tools to design which you would collect 2 weeks later when you visited Egypt again. Because while you do need to work on your time machine, you also need to find ways for Baldwin to go to war with Salauddin again, because originally Baldwin dies of leprosy, but since you already cured that... you need to find a way for Baldwin to die and so far, a war seems to be the only answer.
But youve seen their relationship... Baldwin and Salauddin wouldn't simply jeopardise everything like that. They have a good bond, a strong friendship even.
However, if highschool has taught you anything, even the closest friendships end because of misunderstandings.
And so, a week later, you were back in Jerusalem with your new tool and a new plan in mind.
You walked up the stairs and towards Baldwin's office. Since you had arrived earlier than he was expecting, you wanted to surprise him. Honestly, you missed him and his adorable expressions-
You stopped at the foot of the door, your heart dropping at the sight.
Baldwin and a woman... kissing.
Tumblr media
Thoughts? Also send asks
213 notes · View notes
ashtavula · 3 days
Note
Hi, I've been reading a lot of your work lately and I absolutely love them!
If it's not a bother can I request Jamil, Azul, Vil and Riddle with their S/O being the children of the great seven? Like they got isakaid there instead of yuu (I'm going to ask for all the Overblot boys because personally I think Idia, malleus and Leona are somehow related to the great seven, either a direct Descendants or distant relative)
Anyways thank you so much if you decide to do this and it's alright if you don't I just really love your writing style and works on the Overblot boys!!
This is a really interesting idea, considering all of the boys really respect the great seven!
Jamil, Azul, Vil, and Riddle with a reader who is the child of the great seven
Jamil:
-Jamil is usually reluctant to show off how smart he really is, but he feels like he has to prove his intelligence when he's with you. You are, after all, the child of the Sorcerer of the Sands. He fully believes that you must be just as wise as your father, even if you actually aren't.
-Jamil never refers to you by title, since it just reminds him that he's a servant, and you are the child of a grand vizier. He knows that you don't care, but he'd rather avoid bringing it up. Instead, he calls you habibi when you're both alone, and he can be more affectionate.
-He refuses to hear anything about you possibly returning to your home. Jamil knows that your father wouldn't approve of you dating a servant, and he can't stand the thought of losing you forever. All he can do is hope that you'll stay, against all odds.
Azul:
-Azul practically begs you to share what you know about your mother. He's always admired the Sea Witch, and he wants to know all there is to know. He'll light up if you reveal some of her wisdom to him, or show him how some of her magic was done.
-I assume that you're also an octopus mer, and that puts Azul at ease because you're like him. The two of you will both curl up in his octopot, giggling as his tentacles tangle with yours. Azul sweetly calls you his precious pearl as holds you, though he'll blush if you give him a pet name too.
-Azul is terrified that you'll leave him one day, and he tries his hardest to make you want to stay with him. He'll spoil you, and he constantly strives to prove that he's worthy of your love. He loves you too much to be able to bear losing you.
Vil:
-Vil doesn't want to push you too much, but the Fairest Queen is well-renowned for her poisons. Surely, you've learned from her, and can teach him. He also asks a lot about her beauty routines. He'll be ecstatic if you share any of her secrets with him.
-Vil adores being able to call you his beautiful prince/princess, and he tends to flaunt your relationship. He preens if you compliment him in return, and gets ridiculously happy if you call him your perfect prince. He feels tempted to record you telling him that, just so he can play it whenever he wants.
-He acts like he's not worried about you potentially leaving, but deep down he's scared that it will happen. He'd do just about anything to get you to stay with him, even if it meant facing off against the Fairest Queen.
Riddle:
-He gets even more serious about following the rules of the Queen of Hearts after realizing that she's your mother. Surely, you're pleased that he remembers all of them, right? Riddle would be baffled if you told him it wasn't necessary, or if you went so far as to criticize your mother for making up so many ridiculous rules.
-Riddle still refers to you by your title, but it's become a term of endearment. He'll kiss your hand as you stroll through the rose maze, and will affectionately call you his prince/princess. He also gets flustered if you refer to him as your prince. Or even better, your king.
-He worries that you miss your mother and your old home, but he desperately hopes that you'll stay with him. If it came down to you going back to your original place, Riddle would choose to go with you. Nothing is more important to him than his love for you.
154 notes · View notes
drdemonprince · 1 day
Note
I've noticed a pattern in anticapitalist books I read (specifically I'm talking abt Mark Fisher here, in Capitalist Realism). They do this great anticapitalist analysis etc and then go on to critique their students? and sometimes it's a bit ableist? it's like all the critical thought goes out of the window and they cannot understand the situation because for once suddenly they are in the authoritative position. It always gives me this "I don't understand these kids, back in my day-" vibe, and I see this with lecturers at university too. like Mark Fisher maybe we can think outside the box about your student who "needs" headphones to focus in class "even though no music is playing". and maybe it's not to do with the "Matrix"(????) I'm well aware this was written in 2008 but it's weird that I see this pattern continue today. Not to mention Mark Fisher took part in some ableist studies, and was a guy with questionable intentions on occasion.
it's like you Just said that reducing labour is good why are you calling your students lazy, that's so unprofessional and privileged. I wonder of coincidence that he is anti-meds when his right wing, pro-eugenics, accelerationist friend was addicted to amphetamines.
Or even just the amount of people who have written books about laziness and anticapitalism (excluding you) and just saying the most contradictory shit ever?? or not following their own ideology???
Anyway, I wonder if, when writing Laziness Does Not Exist, you came across any of this and were equally as baffled.
Materialism is just *so* true that high-status academics don't have a vested class interest in seeing their student struggles as legitimate or in recognizing the struggles of disabled people in general. For many edgy academic leftists having the correct opinions is just a way to flex one's intellectual status, not a lived experience they give a shit about. I'm not shitting Fisher in particular in saying this, it's more that it's a really widespread problem in the culture of these kinds of (very white, very academic, very cishet) leftists communities. You see the same kind of thing among some of the Chapo stan types, too, you don't have to be specifically an academic to do it -- lots of people throwing around the r-slur and flexing on how much they have read and doing fuck all for the oppressed people around them. I tend to find it especially common among people who inherited leftism from their (often academic) parents? Whereas leftist communities populated by Black & brown anarchists and working class people tend to fare a lot better in this particular respect.
Note that I'm not saying a person's identities are a guarantee of them being any more radical -- there's lots of liberals lurking in our midsts of all identities for instance -- more that someone's orientation toward power tells you a lot. and unfortunately there is an approach to leftism that puts a lot of stock in either institutional power via the academy, or in a kind of soft power of intellectual authoritativeness that tends to punish anyone who is supposedly less well read, less intelligent, lazy, needs disability accommodations, has trauma triggers, or what have you.
The simple answer is that power and privilege obscures other people's challenges from you, and the desire to preserve one's power (be it actually institutional academic authority or just the status of the person who supposedly knows the most in the room) leads to a lot of oppressive behavior. a lot of these guys that you're talking about believe in communism sincerely but they don't have humility, they believe themselves to be superior to most everyone else. and they tend to be white guys from wealthy families who either do not have any disabilities of their own, or they have the undiagnosed intj mastermind rational flavor of autism that makes you feel incredibly alienated from others but interpret that alienation as a sign of your intellectual superiority. (i had this type but i got better. a little)
96 notes · View notes
kefiteria · 2 days
Text
FOR YOUR EYES ONLY.
A comfort letter from Scaramouche to you.
Tumblr media
So, I've noticed you've been retreating into your mind more than usual lately. It's like you're doing a disappearing act even Houdini would envy. But hey, I get it. People are complicated creatures, and occasionally it feels safer to hide behind our thoughts than to face the chaos out there.
About this facade you've got going on. You know, the one where you're holding on to your inner child like it's a winning lottery ticket? It's almost comical how tightly you cling to it, as if someone's lurking around the corner waiting to snatch it away. Newsflash: nobody's taking it from you, dear.
Now, about those tears. I know, I know, crying is for the weak, right? Wrong. Even the toughest nuts crack sometimes. Take it from me, I've shed more tears than I care to admit, and yet here I am, still standing, still better as ever. You don't have to plaster on that smile 24/7, you know. Let those tears flow like a leaky faucet if you need to.
And speaking of tough times, let's talk about failure. It's not the end of the world, despite what your overactive brain might be telling you. Trust me, I've had my fair share of failures, and look at me now—still standing, scheming and myself.
So, when are you going to cut yourself some slack? Stop beating yourself up over things that are as out of your control as the weather. Tomorrow's just another day in the grand circus of life, and guess what? I'm your ringmaster, baby. You're not in this alone.
And those feelings you've been bottling up? Yeah, it's time to pop the cork and let 'em out. Trust me, it's like a pressure valve for the soul. Cry if you need to, scream into the void if you must. Just don't keep it all locked up inside. That's a recipe for disaster, believe me.
So, here's the deal: you're not alone in this. I've got your back, whether you're crying like a baby or plotting world domination (ugh just do it in moderation though). Just remember, it's okay to let your guard down once in a while. After all, even the sharpest swords need a little sharpening now and then.
Alright, let's wrap this up before I start growing a conscience or something equally absurd. Seriously, who knew pouring my heart out on paper could be so exhausting? I feel like I've been on a marathon run through a field of emotional landmines, and I'm not even wearing my running shoes.
But hey, if this little rant of mine manages to knock some sense into that stubborn head of yours, then I guess it's worth the carpal tunnel I'm bound to get from all this writing. Just promise me one thing: don't go making a habit out of this whole “feeling your feelings” nonsense. It's bad for my image.
So, there you have it. Consider this your one and only free pass to the sappy side of Scaramouche. Don't get used to it. Now go on, get out there and conquer the world, or cry yourself a river, whichever floats your boat. Just remember: you're not alone in this crazy circus we call life. I've got your back, whether you like it or not.
“It's okay, your world, and feelings are precious, so precious just like you are now.”
Fondly yours (don't make it a habit),
Scaramouche.
Tumblr media
76 notes · View notes
Text
Typical Day For a Bouncer
I'm Joey, a security guard at a night club down the street. I got the job because I'm a big ex-rugby player, but I've kept it for so long because I'm good at handling people. I can't tell you how many underage idiots try to sneak in here. It takes patience, grit, and a keen eye to keep the troublemakers out!
Tumblr media
Like any other Friday night, the club is packed tight and a line of impatient patrons stretches down the street. I've gotten good at telling people "no," in a way that makes them listen, so they have no choice but to calmly wait until I feel like checking their ID and letting them in.
Every now and again, I'll have some fools try to sweet talk their way in. Girls try to flirt, guys try to bribe, but the biggest assholes make a scene. It's nothing I can't handle.
Just last week, I had this entitled brat come up to me and demand I let him in. The boy couldn't have thought I'd believe he was twenty-one. He wasn't even in line! I don't remember what I did to get him to shut up, but he kept hammering on and on about his skills with hypnosis. I remember listening to that kid ramble about the voodoo of the mind for what felt like forever.
I don't remember kicking him to the curb, though. He probably got tired and went home.
"Hey, buddy!" a familiar voice squeaks over the music. I roll my eyes, preparing myself to say no yet again.
"Oh, it's you," my deep voice catches in my throat. The kid from last week is standing in front of me once more, ignoring the line of adults to his left. In his ratty sweatshirt and baseball cap, he doesn't look any older than eighteen. Still, the sight of him unlocks a memory I somehow had forgotten. "Hello, sir!" I call back, remembering him as my closest and most respected friend. How could I've forgotten that this boy was my best friend I call sir?
"You gonna let me in, big guy?" A devious grin spreads across his boyish face.
"Of course, sir."
Tumblr media
There are a few angry comments from the people waiting in line. I can't imagine they're happy to see this guy ushered into the club before them. Normally, I have a strict policy against VIP treatment. I think everyone should have to wait in line like equals, but sir is great. He can come and go whenever he wants!
"Hey, why don't you take a break from the front and buy me some beers," the boy yells over the roar of the music.
I leave the entrance and start pushing my way through the crowd in the direction of the bar. I probably should've warned the other bouncer that I was taking a break, but my feet were carrying me away before I knew what was happening. The other guard knows what he's doing, but he's still pretty new here. I'm sure he'll be fine.
The bartender gives me a can of light beer, and I hustle it back to the boy on the dance floor. People tend to get out of the way when they see a giant security guard coming through, but the place is so jammed packed that I have to press against several sweaty partiers on the way over.
"Your beer, sir," I say, flinching at the meekness in my voice.
"What the hell is this?" he whines when he sees the drink, "This is crap. Get me the good stuff, and buy a lot of it!" The kid tossed the open can at my broad chest, and the cheap beer splashes across my uniform.
"Yes, sir."
Tumblr media
I march back to the bar with a clenched fist, and grab a tray, ordering the barback to fill it up with the more expensive bottles of beer. He glances at my soaked shirt and pants, but averts his eyes the second he sees my less-than-friendly face.
That boy is my best friend. I respect him greatly, but goddamn is he infuriating. How did I even become close to someone so immature? I pacify myself, and carry the tray back over to the kid.
"That's better," he snorts and takes a sip of the premium drink while I stand there to make sure he likes it this time.
"Alright, sir," I begin, thinking about the twenty minute break I've been taking, "I need to get back to work."
"No you don't!" the boy interjects.
"I..." the words fumble in my mouth, "...well, I don't need to, but I should, sir."
"Tell your boss you're done for the night. Then go wait by my car. You can guard it!"
"Yes, sir," the words come out before I even know what I've agreed to.
Before I know it, I'm marching into the back office and calmly telling the club owner that I'm taking the night off. He's pissed, but I'm his most reliable employee, so he doesn't fire me. I can tell he's not happy, though. He looks like he'd take a swing at me if I weren't two feet taller than him and a hundred pounds heavier.
Tumblr media
"You make a great watchdog!" the teenager laughs as he comes stumbling out of the club.
Something about him brings a scowl to my face. It might be the way he referred to me as an animal, or it might be the way he's staring at me like I am an animal. Maybe I'm just irritated from standing by this parked car in the cold for the last two hours, but this boy is getting on my nerves.
"No one has bothered your car, sir," I report.
"Good, boy," he slurs and then reaches a gangly arm to pat the top of my head. I can smell the distinct earthiness of the beer I'd bought wafting out with his breath.
Every muscle in my body tenses up, as I try my best to restrain myself. Sir is my best friend. I respect him. I do what he says. I shouldn't get this worked up by him making a little joke at my expense. It's perfectly fine for him to tease me a little since I trust him completely. I know all this.
"Still think hypnosis is fake?" he asks, bringing his wet lips uncomfortably close to my own.
"Sir?" my brow furrows, unsure why he's bringing up that crap again.
"Well, it's real, and you're hypnotized."
I stifle a groan, "Sir, you've had a lot to drink..."
"The only thing I'm drunk on is power!" he yells, smashing a bottle on the sidewalk for effect, "I've got you like a trained dog; that's how good of a hypnotist I am! Let me prove it."
Tumblr media
I was pissed. I was livid. Sir had mocked and insulted me repeatedly. It was a bad idea for anyone to pick on me, especially someone a third of my size! Nevertheless, the boy has all my faith, so I kept my mouth clamped shut.
He told me to kneel, and I grunted, "Yes, sir." I already had beer all over my clothes, so what's a little mud on the knees of my pants? It was better to just keep him happy, but that didn't mean he had hypnotized me.
"Keep your arms raised, like you're worshipping me," he went on.
"Yes, sir."
My arms went up. I'll admit this was a bit more strange, but I still trust and respect the teenager enough to comply. That doesn't say anything about my state of mind.
"Alright, now stay like that until I come back," he laughs, "I'm going to get a snack, but if anyone walks by, I want you to bark at them like the hypnotized guard dog you are!"
"Yes, sir," I answer, hearing the hoarseness in my voice.
As the boy stumbles away, I find myself stuck in the position he'd left me in: on my knees, in the cold, with my arms raised in compliance. I'm doing this willingly, right?
Time creeps by uncomfortably slow as I silently wait next to his car. Suddenly, I hear footsteps nearby. A wave of barks burst out of my throat, and I find myself growling like a territorial mutt in the direction of the pedestrians.
Now I'm acting like a dog!
Sir doesn't come back for another hour, which leaves me to viciously snap at numerous other passerby. They seem terrified, which makes sense. They probably think I'm insane! I'm beginning to wonder if I'm insane too.
I respect that boy more than anyone even if I only met him once, a week ago. I really would do anything he told me too. Is that strange? It's not like me to be so...obedient. I'm the kind of guy that normally tells people what to do, so why am I doing this?
There's no way...it's not possible...I can't actually be hypnotized, right?
"Good, boy," he pulls off my cap and ruffles my hair, "Now, be a good dog and drive me to your house. I might fall asleep on the way there, so you'll have to carry me inside to your bed. If you do good, I'll give you a special treat." He licks his lips and reaches a scrawny hand out to squeeze my tired pec.
"Yes, sir," I answer, jumping up to do his bidding, but I can feel that the words aren't really mine.
Shit. I think he's right. I think I am hypnotized.
113 notes · View notes
galedekarios · 2 days
Note
Keeping this anon, but I hear you hate bloodweave. I was curious on your take to why.
You don't have to reply to this if it makes you uncomfortable thought!!
i'd like to preface this again by saying that this is my opinion. idc what you ship.
i've talked about this here, but i don't mind reiterating my points:
they have no chemistry, to the contrary, gale shuts him down right away during their first talk and ast*rion's manipulation attempts. i assume that gale sees right through him from the beginning. a lot of people love to hc gale as naive as or as completely taken with ast*rion, but it's the complete opposite. i imagine his many years in waterhavian society made him realise quite quickly what type of person he's dealing with. the relationship they have doesn't progress much from that. by act iii they - at best - begrudgingly tolerate each other.
they are diametrically opposed in the things they value as people as well as their morals. gale is kind-hearted, he approves of helping those in need, children, mothers, slaves, refugees, even the animals you meet in-game. he seeks to avoid bloodshed, approves of letting people who want to pay the party back for their help keep their money and belongings. he seeks knowledge and even power not for selfish reasons or a taste for the darker things, but because he seeks to better their odds of survival against a seemingly invincible foe. ast*rion meanwhile is selfish and cruel and vile. he delights in violence and bloodshed, he finds the struggle of people caught in the crosshairs amusing. he is greedy and short-sighted, seeking power for himself, no matter the cost to others.
they are completely incompatible in terms of what they look for in a relationship and a potential partner. gale wants and needs a deeper connection, a tangling of the souls, and he needs someone to be there for him unequivocally, to love him for who he is as he is. he is not taken in by someone's looks or image they present of themselves, nor does he do hate sex / endless bickering / enemies to fwb / etc.
the first things he cites for trusting the protag are their good actions (helping mirkon, helping arabella, seeking to ease the tension between zevlor and aradin), it's all those things that at first make him trust the protag and later - when they unselfishly offer him help, give him artefacts - makes him fall in love with them. sex and immediate gratification isn't important to him. sex is a component - one way in an array of ways to proclaim love.
for ast*rion, it's manipulation first and his entire romance hinges on that. his partner falling for his looks and his text book manipulation into sex. that's already where this breaks apart for me in terms of this ship because that doesn't work with gale.
add to that ast*rion's cruel remarks about gale's when he is need:
Tumblr media
[after gale's background story reveal] You'd have us debate? That Netherese jack-in-the-box should be a blip on the horizon by now!
Tumblr media
[after mystra's demands] I can't believe Mystra's demanding Gale sacrifice himself to destroy the Absolute. It's just a waste of a perfectly good cult that we could be controlling. And a waste of a perfectly good Gale, I suppose.
Tumblr media
[at the stormshore tabernacle] Well? Go on, then - it's rude to keep a goddess waiting.
Tumblr media
[after orin potentially kidnaps gale] So, we kill Gortash or Gale dies? It's not an easy call. On the one hand, killing Gortash would be fun. On the other, Gale can be very annoying. We should probably save the wizard, though. He does have his moments.
i think it's very clear, given the fact that these reactions range from act i to act iii, that he doesn't give a singular fuck about gale. contrast this to karlach's reactions, or even shadowheart's:
Tumblr media
Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back.
(particularly karlach has many reactions like this.)
...unless you play either of them as an origin char and make the most ooc choices, i do not see how this pairing is supposed to work.
additionally, as i've discussed more in my previous post, the parallels people draw between them are shallow at best or can be drawn virtually between any of the other origin companions, or are non-existent at worst. ast*rion having a reading animation that he shares with gale (as halsin and shadowheart do too), or having their tents next to each other (like wyll and gale do in act i) isn't really enough for me.
as i've said previously, i have tried to engage with the pairing because it's sadly inescapable since people often don't bother tagging, but there's nothing except shallow ooc stuff.
78 notes · View notes
butch-reidentified · 2 days
Note
if you think agp is a thing(and presumably exclusive to trans women) what do you think of cis women claiming to masturbate in front of mirrors and CIA women who report being aroused by breastfeeding?
literally every single answer to these questions is available on my blog. I'm tired of writing the same posts over and over and over. if you can't find sufficient answers scrolling my blog, searching key words on my blog (or on google citing my blog, which yields better results oftentimes), going through the links in my pinned, or checking the tags referenced in my pinned, then I'd say if it's reeeeally important to you to get answers, your best bet will be to sit tight and occasionally check for updates to my Pinned as I am gradually adding more and more links detailing my views, and/or skim my blog from time to time - it's pretty much guaranteed to cycle through again within a month at most 🤷
I was actually gonna put a partial (that is to say, just not my usual thorough, detailed, and nuanced) answer at the beginning, but honestly I'm getting VERY tired of anonymous strangers who most likely just stumbled across my blog for the first time today thinking they're entitled to a personalized thinkpiece from me when almost every time I get an ask like this (which are distinctly different from good faith curiosities, which I'm more than happy to answer), I've already posted my answer, I've already written about the subject in depth on my blog. so I'll put my answer below instead so you have to read all of the above first, so you at least sort of vaguely kinda earn some response by putting in a miniscule fraction of the work/time I've put into both reading/informing myself about all sorts of different opinions, ideologies, experiences, perspectives, and views (rather than just demanding opinions from strangers on anon, lmao) and writing countless posts (& that's just on here, ignoring the offline side which is where I'm wayyy more active), which are almost always VERY long and detailed and proofread and edited and polished several times over.
btw, kind of a side note -- I have NEVER sent a single anon in my life, and I have NEVER, anonymously or not, demanded someone give me a personalized just-for-me explanation of their opinions (or any at all). the reason I call this entitlement is because you (most likely) aren't asking out of genuine curiosity or good faith. you (most likely) are asking because you dislike what you think my views are (you are most likely misinformed and think I believe things I do not) and you (most likely) think this is some kind of gotcha rather than the same ignorant, unoriginal, boring ass points that I've read countless times as far back as when I was a transactivist and trans-identifying myself. they've been debunked/responded to by a LOT of other women, too, and I'm very confident you could easily find at least one such response. I'm not holding you to a standard I don't also hold myself to; in fact, that I'm going to give you any degree of actual answer at all is demonstrative of my holding myself to a HIGHER standard. because again, nothing I'm about to say on this topic is just now in this post being born into the universe as a novel thought. or even a novel tumblr post; like I said, you could find the radfem answers to this ask yourself with just a tiny bit of effort - and while radfems are far from a monolith, and I am a frequent vocal dissenter on a variety of radblr hot topics, this isn't even really a matter of opinion. read on to find out why.
Part A - Not answering the questions here per se, but a clarification of terminology that may help you (any reader, not necessarily anon) see my perspective:
The word "cis" has different definitions. It used to mean someone who is not trans, whereas trans referred to sex-dysphoric transitioners, a demographic who now often prefer terms like transsexual or transsex or simply "sex-dysphoric" BECAUSE they don't agree with gender identity ideology (GII) and object to the way GII has been actively hostile to them and erased transsexuality (and thus their identities, needs, beliefs, and experiences as well), similarly to the ways in which GII engages with pretty much everything that isn't complete and total blind allegiance. These include but are far from limited to:
1. Obfuscating people's (especially children's/young adults' - as they are the primary consumers of most GII content by far) understanding of biology, particularly as it pertains to the sexes of human beings and sexual dimorphism, and inserting "gender identity" as a direct (but importantly not synonymous or remotely parallel) replacement for the material and biological reality of sex. Sex, absent patriarchy and the gender construct, is simply a neutral and factual categorization of human beings: sex categorizes human body types according to the two developmental pathways that evolved solely for the purpose of producing one gamete type or the other to enable perpetuation of the species via sexual reproduction. What this statement does NOT imply to anyone reading it with even an ounce of integrity/intellectual honesty: "women are defined by having babies," "infertile/childfree adult female humans are not women," "humans with anomalous sexual development of any variety are not male or female, but rather a 3rd sex or even proof sex is a spectrum," or anything along these lines; I refer to these arguments as intellectually dishonest because they are originally intentional (disinformation -> misinformation) misinterpretations & serve to moralize, dogmatize, and essentially theologize facts of nature.
This obfuscation of biology is committed via a variety of tactics that frequently include outright gaslighting; "gender and sex are different" turned into "sex is actually a spectrum" (it's not - read on to learn why not!) and then outright science denial while gaslighting others as being the unscientific, uneducated, "3rd grade understanding of biology" ones (again, this is simply factually not true*).
*Feel free to request to see a peer-reviewed neuroscience journal publication bearing my name and/or my thesis (original research regarding the overlapping genetics + epigenetics of norepinephrine dysregulation in both dysautonomia and attention deficit disorders) if you are skeptical of my credentials regarding biology. alternatively, feel free to cite your sources and I will provide a free-of-charge peer review service :)
2. Building from #1, the erasure of patriarchal sex-based oppression of women & girls (by definition: human beings of the female sex, adults & children respectively) via aforementioned tactics obfuscating sex biology & human biology in favor of an innate, internal "gender identity" which is extremely poorly defined with the individual "gender identities" themselves left utterly non-delineated. Gender identity ideology is to be taken entirely on pure faith, despite the fact that there is absolutely no evidence to support gender identity as a universal component of human beings/universal human experience. In fact, the existence of absolutely any nonzero quantity of human beings who do not experience gender identity firmly disproves it as universal human experience - and we know not all humans have a gender identity. However, every human being experiences sexual development, be it typical, disordered (DSDs, congenital infertility, etc), or otherwise anomalous; the vast majority experience typical sexual development, and one's sex is entirely clear in the vast majority of atypical cases as well. Female humans are oppressed on the basis of our biological reproductive capabilities; patriarchy desires control over the female sex as a direct product of its desire to control reproduction. Patriarchy created the gender construct to instill and enforce a caste system between the sexes upholding the patriarchal dogma of male supremacy and female inferiority. Similarly, patriarchy created father-gods in order to make the creation of life a male act. Erasure of sex in favor of the gender construct serves male supremacy and cannot ever be anti-patriarchal or feminist. Evidence of sex based oppression abounds offline (frankly, you need look no further than menstruation stigma in all its forms up to and including menstrual huts, but there is infinitely more evidence) and right here on my blog as well; I even have some posts tagged to serve as proof of sex based oppression.
3. Erasing homosexuality via working toward erasure of exclusive same-sex attraction (this is particularly targeted at lesbians, and this is VERY well documented. I have many examples of this in my TRA Receipts tag, including a particularly excellent masterpost containing, in total iirc THOUSANDS of screenshots), once again replacing sex with "gender identity" as if one's orientation being defined as attraction to another human's invisible, internal, and highly individual "gender identity," which not all humans even purport to have in the first place, could possibly make any sense. This is uniquely absurd.
As stated in the 2nd link in #1 on my Pinned, I object to the usage of "cis" for non-trans-identifying people. Why? At the core of it, because the most commonplace definition of "cis"/'cisgender" that I see at this point in time is "having a gender identity that aligns with what was assigned at birth." As stated above, gender identity is not universal, rendering "cisgender" equally as personal and internal of an identity label as "transgender" - and these are not a pure dichotomy by any means. Radical feminism does not grant any degree of objective factual legitimacy to the gender construct; thus, no radical feminist is or can be, by definition, transgender or cisgender (this does not carry over to whether or not radfems can have dysphoria or even be medically transitioned). Radfems are not the only humans without "gender identities," and it is dishonest and disrespectful to force the term/label onto everyone else according to an ideology we/they may not share.
Part B - The Long-Awaited Answer! [I changed my mind since this ended up significantly longer than initially planned so here ya go]
Autogynephilia was coined as a term with a specific definition. That definition is still the same one in use today. That definition explicitly states that only males can qualify. That definition is: "a paraphilia that describes when a man experiences sexual arousal from the thought of himself as a woman" per Google, and "a male's propensity to be sexually aroused by the thought of himself as a female" per Blanchard's original stated intention for the term he created. Wikipedia goes on to add "intending for the term to refer to 'the full gamut of erotically arousing cross-gender behaviors and fantasies.'"
I have many criticisms of Blanchard himself and of the quality of his research methodologies. However, the evidence for the existence of the paraphilia itself is abundant and undeniable given that many males outright refer to themselves as autogynephiles and many have openly discussed their experiences as someone with this paraphilia. What I do not believe is that all trans-identifying males are AGPs, that there is proven legitimacy to the HSTS/AGP dichotomy (even Blanchard himself said not all OSA trans-identifying males are AGPs - just a whole lot of them), or that non-trans-identifying males can't be AGPs - actually I think it's likely that most AGPs don't identify as transgender.
The core of the paraphilia, the source of the arousal, is a product of the patriarchal sex caste system; autogynephiles are aroused by the idea of themselves as women - as they themselves have stated - because of the sexual objectification of femaleness and/or because they're aroused by degradation and humiliation (as is blatantly obviously on brilliant display in the existence of and obsession with "forced feminization" and similar female-degrading sexual concepts), and the AGP male views femaleness and the gender that patriarchy has forcibly ascribed to femaleness ("femininity") as inferior and thus sees his engagement in performing femininity as degrading - which in turn sexually excites him.
One reason some women find themselves arousing in their own bodies and natural non-performative states is the same as when men find themselves arousing in their own bodies and natural non-performative states: self-confidence increases libido and associations can be made between A and B. Where women and men inevitably differ, however, is about the arousal surrounding performing femininity and/or sexual self-objectification. It is not at all unreasonable to speculate that some women can be turned on when they "feel hot" for a reason other than just self-confidence; for one speculative example, it's possible that some women may see herself in the mirror all dressed up in hypersexualized clothing and feel that they've succeeded in mirroring the pornified images and sexually-appealing-to-males beauty expectations. Ultimately, this is self-objectification. It's patriarchy and the male gaze that have forced these associations onto all of society, and hypersexual associations have a tendency of causing sexual arousal in people (duh).
Oh and I've never heard of women being aroused by breastfeeding, only complaining about it being painful asf, but like. Nipples are among the most common and well-documented non-genital erogenous areas so? This seems terribly unlikely to be a common phenomenon, but utterly irrelevant to the existence of autogynephilia regardless lol. If this is a thing, like I said I doubt it's commonplace at all, but even just hypothetically, I'd say it would distinctly fall in line with everything else I say in this answer. Patriarchy and its pornographers have indeed sexualized breastfeeding - there are a concerning number of men who ask their partners NOT TO BREASTFEED their babies - his own children! - because it makes him JEALOUS and even resent the baby. I'm dead serious you can look this up, it happens. So... read on for elaboration.
I neither know nor care precisely what you're referencing in this ask, because the answer remains the same: autogynephilia by definition can only affect males, and males who have a fetish for the idea of themselves as female, be that through imagining themselves Fucked (anatomically female, specifically in a sexually objectified - aka Fucked - manner; the anatomical/biological form of autogynephilia fetishizes the male subject imagining himself as the female Fucked object of pornography) or Feminine (as discussed above) fundamentally are not and cannot be the same as women who are turned on by feeling like they look sexually appealing or by their own natural anatomy or biological functions (which have been violently hypersexualized by patriarchy). This is a form of internalized misogyny; when men do it, it's just misogyny. These are not the same.
49 notes · View notes
vulpixisananimal · 2 days
Text
Looping again and again...
(You breath in, and out.)
Tumblr media
(You're exhausted. You feel even more sick than last time. Your eyes are puffy, and theres a weight on your chest.)
(You breath in, and out.)
(Just, just focus. Just focus. None of that happened, not really. It was all in another timeline, you didn't hurt him, and you aren't selfish. You... You...)
("I should never have trusted you.")
(. . .)
(You trust them. But they don't trust you. If they don't trust you, why do you keep talking to them.)
(Because it's. . . Because I promised.)
(You promised to protect Bonnie too.)
(Your breath catches.)
(Are you sure they believe you, or like you, or trust you? Can you be sure? You have a power that they cannot comprehend. Every day could be perfectly scripted by you.)
(I. . . I don't know.)
(Do you think Isabeau trusts you.)
(I. . .)
"You alright, Sif?"
(Oh stars, right. You breath in, and out.)
"Never better, Isa!" (You said, your words ringing hollow.)
"Well, if you need a hand or, or if I need to get you anything, just let me know okay?"
(Same as last time. You are looping again, after all. You look at yourself in the mirror. Could it get worse..?)
(You step out of the bathroom.)
"Sif! Are you sure you're alright?" (He leaned down to your level, just as worried as before.) "I was about to get out of bed and I heard you, uh-"
"I'm fine Isabeau--" >> "--Just some loopy stuff, not that bad, I'll meet you for breakfast!"
(. . . Should you be zoning out? Things are differen't now, you're not in Dormont after all.)
(It wont hurt them.)
(You're back downstairs, Mirabelle and Bonnie off doing whatever it was they do in the morning. The quesadillas looked good like last time. Hmm, you could change a few things up here at least.)
"You sure you're alright? Can't go investigating when your sick."
"I've gone through worse." (You say cheekily.)
"That's not a good thing though!" (Isa exlaimed.) "You were sick for weeks after all those loops!"
"Still hard to believe." (Nille commented, leaning back.) "Even I know you're not s'possed to be able to craft time."
"Well I didn't think wishes were so..."
"Dangerous?" (You say.)
"Well, yeah." (Isa's vision wandered, thinking.) ". . . Do you think that's why you're sick again?"
(Huh.)
(Odile looked up from her book.) "That could be it. Perhaps that wish is still allowing Siffrin to loop back, but requires more of his own energy."
"So it's, craft exhaustion?" (That would make sense, and explain why each time you looped you were feeling worse.)
"Alright eat up then 'Frin." (Nille said, leaning over to give you a second quesadilla.) "Gotta get your energy back."
(You shrink down into your cloak.) "I'll be fine, you don't, need, to."
"Come on Sif!" (Now Isa was handing you more food.) "Craft exhaustion 101! Eat! Your! Food!"
(Oh stars. . .)
(Defeated, you start to eat up. It WAS good food, Bonnie always made good food. And you WERE hungry. Plus, you might need the energy to loop again. And if you do that, then you wouldn't have taken their food.)
(Mirabelle and Bonnie join the rest of you, the air is a bit warmer than last time. Bonnie threatened to go back and make you even more food once they found out you had craft exhaustion. But for now, it's about time to explain things again.)
(You're going to? You still trust them?)
(. . . If we don't, it could be worse. We didn't ask for help before, and it was worse.)
"Isa, did you know someone called Ramos in the Defenders?"
"Huh?" (Isa thought for a moment.) "I didn't. . . Oh! Well I knew someone who's second name was that, why?"
"Taller? Wears a vest and kerchif? Short hair?"
(Isa shook his head.) "No, but I remember they asked me about some clothes like that... Wait did you-"
(You smile smugly.) "You must have had quite the impact, they look totaly different when we met them later today."
"You looped again!?!?--" >> "--I'll look for one of those next time."
(Where to start this time.)
"This will be try number three of today, First time me and Odile went to the library and the rest of you to the Defenders place, Bonnie came running to us, aparently Mira was framed for kidnapping Bonnie."
"!?!?!?--" >> "--There must have been some kind of mistake!"
"And that's why we went there last time." (You hesitate) "We all did, met Ramos at the enterance, started leading us to someone who'd help. Mira, Bonnie and Nilla ran off because of..."
(. . . Roses.)
"Huh?!?"
"Beacuse Bonnie smelled mint and thought someone's roses were in trouble?"
"It makes more sense at the moment I promise!"
"Well there was someone who kept roses." (Isa pondered.) "But he was never the type to get mints in his rosebeds."
"Well aparently Bonnie smelled mint, so."
"Was it like the sugar?" (Bonnie asked.) "Like, is it a craft thing?"
(You blink, oh.) "Well, uh, I did smell a lot of something."
(Bonnie hopped away from the tapple and ran back to the kitchen. Before coming back with a bit of a plant and held it up to you.) "Smell."
(You take a sniff, the same smell.) ". . . Is that mint?"
"Duh." (They said smugly.) "No it's cumin, obviously. Crabface."
"Language."
(You all have a bit of a chuckle. Bonnie going to put the mint back. Odile prompted you to continue.)
"Right..." (You shift a bit in your seat, oh boy.) "Well... Isa, did you get any help on your Defender quiz? Did Ramos help you?"
"Huh? No I didn't," (he looked confused.) "I did worry about it a bunch, but Ramos was having it harder, if anything I helped them."
(You nod.) "While we were walking you said the oposite, you knew eachother for a while, it all seemed... Wrong."
(You paused, thinking. Odile noticed.) "Everything alright, Siffrin?"
(You bite your lip. You, didn't want to talk about what happens next.) "Well. . . You and I got suspicious, confronted Ramos, you grabbed them and then started being weird, and uh, well, I stepped in and, well, they were wearing the star pendant."
"!!!"
"Gems alive."
"Oh Ramos.." (Isabeau pouted.) "They didn't hurt you, did they?"
(You snapped to attention, huh? What?) "I-I, n-no they, uh, no they didn't." (If anything, it was the other way around...)
"Well... If you want to talk about it."
(You shrug.)
". . . Well what's the plan today then boss." (Nille asked, looking over she was leaning on the table so relaxed.) "Since you know the future and all."
(Boss?) "Well, I doubt this'll be the last loop, but this time we should go looking for information on what craft links to mint, if any."
"Good idea Siffrin!" (Mirabelle perked up, uhoh, she had a look in her eyes.) "Me, Odile and Isabeau will go looking for that while YOU stay here and relax!!"
"Huh?!?!"
"Agreed." (Odile was giving you a look.) "We can't have our ace in the hole burning himself out."
"That'll leave you two in charge of Siffrin then, think you can handle it?" (Isa said to Nille and Bonnie.)
(Nille gave a thumbs up) "Leave it to the sibling squad."
"Yeah!! I'm gonna make you hot chocolate too!!"
"What. Wait. But, b-but."
Tumblr media
(You didn't know how to respond, what was going on, you were just, just explaining what happened. It was just going to be another go around. Go look for info on mint, then, then...) "Wh, why?!?"
"Because you need!! A!! Beak!!" (Mirabelle had gotten up) "You've had to do the same day twice now and each time it was really unplesant!! And if today doesn't really happen for us, then we can do a bit extra! The other us's wont remember."
"Exactly." (Odile closed her book.) "If today doesn't matter then we can be a bit risky, and you can relax a bit more. It might help you feel better for next loop."
(You tried hiding in your cloak, a hard thing to do without a hat.) "But, you just, trust me on that?"
"Of course!" (Isabeau said, cheery.) "Why wouldn't we? I'll always trust you, Sif, because you could have done a lot of bad with being able to loop, and you didn't!" (You wince at that, Isa huffed.) "Yes, even that moment we had. I told you, it's alright."
(. . .)
(They do have a point. You, never really got a break back then either. Sure you had moments, but...)
"Ok, If you're sure..."
47 notes · View notes
turtlecleric · 23 hours
Text
Bay!Mikey (insert save me meme here)
CWs: negative/self-deprecating thoughts
-
You consider it. Calling Mikey. Asking him to come over, to hold you until this sadness fades enough for you to feel like a person again. You consider it, and you get as far as hovering your thumb over the call icon before you sigh and lock your phone once more.
You shouldn't bother him. You're not exactly... fun to be around right now.
But. But he'd told you to call him the next time you felt like this. He'd specifically asked you to. Surely that means it's okay? Surely that means you should...
No. No, he was just being nice. He's such a nice guy, of course he would say that. And you believe he meant it, you do. But how could you do this to him? Subject him to this- this miserable thing that you've become?
Better to wait it out alone, you think. Like you always have. That way, no one else gets caught in the crossfire.
...You make it twenty minutes before you're pulling up his contact again. Maybe you could just. Text him. Or send him a meme? Or something. Just- just something that might garner a response without obligating him into anything.
You start to type out a casual greeting, but you quickly delete it. You try another, but... no, that's no good, either. Everything you think of saying seems... wrong. Or strange. Or stupid or rude or-
Okay. Well. You can just send him a meme.
You find one you know he'd like, and you make it all the way until it's time to press send until the doubt creeps in. What if he doesn't like it? What if it annoys him? What if you annoy him?
No, you're being irrational and far too harsh on yourself again. He's never indicated that he's found you annoying. Never. Your brain is just being mean.
...Right?
Fuck, you can't do it. You can't do it. That's so fucking ridiculous, isn't it? That you can't even send your friend a meme that you think he'd like because of your stupid inability to stop overthinking every little thing?
But what if you're right? What if you do annoy him? If you stop listening to that voice of warning, then you'll be even more annoying than you already are. He'll get tired of you. He'll stop wanting to talk to you, he'll pull away, and you'll deserve it.
Fuck. Fuck. Why are you crying?
Pathetic. That's what you are. A stupid, pathetic girl who can't do anything right, even something as simple as this. How could you ever even consider calling him when this is what he'd have to deal with? How could you-
There's a quick tapping at your window, and you freeze. Before you can do much else, the window opens and Mikey steps through, calling your name softly.
It's dark. You've got all the lights off, so the only light source comes from the window, but still, his eyes manage to find you within a few seconds. He bounds over to you, whispering excitedly about something. You're still reeling from the fact that he's here.
He crouches in front of you, and his chatter stops abruptly. You can't make out his expression in the darkness, but you do see the dark shape of his hand slowly reaching toward your face. He cups your cheek, and you can't help but lean into it. His thumb brushes across your cheek, smearing the tears there.
"Hey," he says, now somber instead of excited. "You okay? What's wrong?"
You open your mouth to answer, but instead you dissolve into tears. Immediately, he's wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. Nuzzling into your hair and murmuring soft words that only make you cry harder. You cling to him, shaking apart in his arms and burning with embarrassment.
"I'm here," he says. "I've got you, Starburst, it's okay. It's alright."
It's not. It's not alright. You're being a burden. An annoying, whiny, pathetic thing that he would be so much better off without, even if he doesn't know that.
Starburst, he calls you. Something bright and beautiful, and that's... not you. That will never be you. But you can't say that. He would just feel obligated to contradict it, because he's nice. And kind. And thoughtful.
Because he's Mikey.
And you're... this.
"I'm sorry," you whimper against his plastron, swiping at your eyes miserably. "I'm sorry, Mikey, I'm so sorry."
He shushes you, petting your hair. "Nothing to apologize for. It's alright. Everything is alright."
No. It's not.
But you let him hold you anyway.
---
Tag list: @yorshie @luckycharms1701 @khayalli @thejudiciousneurotic @justalotoffanfiction @mxalmighty @thelaundrybitch @shakeyourtrees
29 notes · View notes
browneyesandhair · 2 days
Text
Correct Bridgerton Quotes
Penelope: I have a confession to make
Colin: Bigger than Whistledown?
Penelope: Different
Colin: What is it?
Penelope: I've been feeling a bit ... impatient with you lately. No that's not right. Disappointed, really.
Colin: Disappointed how?
Penelope: You seemed so upset with me. About Whistledown.
Colin: I already told you that was because -
Penelope: No, please. Please let me finish. I told you I thought it was because you were ashamed of me, and I tried to ignore it, but it hurt so much, really. I thought I knew who you were, and I couldn't believe that person would think himself so far above me that he would feel shame at my achievements.
Penelope: But the funny thing is ... The funny thing is that it wasn't because you were ashamed at all. It was because you wanted something like that for your own. Something like Whistledown. It seems silly now, but I was so worried because you weren't the perfect man of my dreams.
Colin: No one is perfect.
Penelope: You're the imperfect man of my heart, and that's even better. I'd always thought you infallible, that your life was charmed, that you had no worries or fears or unfulfilled dreams. But that wasn't really fair of me.
Colin: I was never ashamed of you, Penelope. Never.
37 notes · View notes
halloworhorecrux · 1 day
Text
A concept, feel free to run with it anyone.
It's time travel with Draco Malfoy. 
He passes the arch of the Court Chambers where he has been sentenced to 3 years of Azkaban. No happy thoughts, only the regret and sadness of having to relieve his mistakes in technicolor within the drab walls of Azkaban. 
Anyways, he passes the arch, which has been destabilized because of the dark magic from Voldemort. He passes out and wakes up to his mother and father looking at him with worry.
It's July 31, 1991.
They fret and hover over him and argue over if they should continue to Diagon Alley for his school supplies. Draco is discombobulated and just smiles winningly because he can't remember how he was at that age but he is sure there was happiness surrounding this day ( there was he meet the love of his life, Harry) so he smiles and encourages them to continue with their day with the dopiest grin. Alright so maybe he has a slight concussion and cannot see straight (pun intended). So on they go apparating into the alley while Draco clings to his parents because he is slightly concussed and slightly because his parents are healthy and petting his hair. Sure this might all be a fever dream and he will wake in a cold, dreary island filled with dementors. He is a firm believer in delulu is the sululu so he will take this small amount of happiness that he can.
This time his parents refuse to allow him to go alone into any of the shops. They are worried about the slightly dazed look in their son's eyes. At the entrance to the robe shop, he berates them to let him stand on his own and not embarrass him. The two decide to wander the shop with a keen eye on their son. As before a ragged looking boy enters the shop without the notice of the two adults. Draco however has never been more excited. He didn't know it at the time but he knows he is Harry Potter. The biggest grin on his face he practically shouts " hullo, Hogwarts too?" 
Taken aback by this small pale boy, Harry thinks “oh great another weird person who knows his name”. Warily the thin boy steps up as he is instructed to by the matron. 
"Uh yea, Hogwarts too"
Nodding along, Draco speaks "I thought as much. I've been waiting for....that door to open.  You know because the nargles told me." He isn't sure why he lies but he decides he can't be blurting out things that might make him wake up. After all dreams start to shatter once you  start to think too hard. 
"uh what are nar..nargles you said?" young Potter asks.
"Oh well you know, those little pesky things that go bzzz in your brain, like uh huh yea they go bzzzz. Like bee's except they’re magical. “ He does a little motion to indicate a bee flying. 
“Yea magical bees. Wonder if that would make me allergic to them as well. I’m allergic to bees you see? Had to be flooed to St.Mungos once after I tried to eat one of mothers flowers. Of course, it was Uncle Sev’s fault entirely. He said they were edible. I just didn't get the right color. But how did I know that flowers of different colors can do different things? It was horrible, Mother made me read about flowers for weeks after that as punishment for messing up her garden." Rubbing along his lips remembering that incident he finishes his little rant " so I guess I could be allergic, she (Luna) did say they cause a type of reaction like a bee sting.." His words putter out as he realizes he just ranted at poor potter about bees. A flush rises to his cheeks. 
Harry is laughing softly at the now embarrassed boy. Not wanting to alienate his first potential friend he asked " Did you learn anything about flowers I mean. I haven’t read much about them but I do tend to our weeds and such for my aunt." Though the task sounds much better, he can feel the calluses his hands acquired from having to dig and pull without proper gloves.
"Oh, actually, yea, I learned about this weed called Venus tentactular that has vines that can kill you, but just show it a bit of sun, and it calms right down. I spent hours trying to make a lumos just so I could see it. Mother has never been more horrified, than when I tried to coax it out of the greenhouse. I think she wanted me to appreciate the pretty flowers, but what's a garden without a couple of weeds? Want to see?" 
Then promptly face palms  because he has just asked the savior if he wants to see a weed that can kill him. 
" Oh Merlin, not because I want to hurt you or anything. I’m very good at light charms or well mainly I can make fire with my mind. It's really just accidental magic but I mean I think it and boom it’s there in my hands. But not like a boom like a bomb just like a small night light but with fire. Not that I need a nightlight or anything, I’m not a baby anymore. And I couldn’t object to it as a baby anyway so that's really why I had it then. Of course. "
A boisterous laugh makes his ramble come to stop. Harry Potter is clutching his ribs as he cackles and giggles with mirth at the babbling boy next to him.
Face as red as a candy apple, Draco somehow is able to tell Potter to write to him. Though the conversation on Owling leaves Harry in more tears as Draco does an impersonation of an owl. Who sounds and all. Draco doesn't even try to understand Harry's explanation of a landline.
It's as what feels like a week goes by that Draco fears he may be in some type of coma because he has not returned to the chill of the North Sea.
Letters are passed, and it's Sep 1, 1990, when Draco begins to have worries of how exactly he is still in the past or whatever fever dream he is in. Sure, making friends with Harry Potter had been a dream for the first four years at Hogwarts, but now he is getting increasingly tense with the situation.
It's the sorting hat that tips the scales for his confirmation of where he is.
"Ah we meet again Mr. Malfoy."
"What"
In his first life, the hat had barely touched his head before sorting him.
"Playing games with level ten I see. It's good to see ambition such as yours learn new ways to thrive. Alas duty calls. Hufflepuff maybe, such daring could go to Gryffindor,but never well thought so Ravenclaw is not for you."
The horror of possibly being Hufflepuff is enough to have him cry out in disgust. Him a hufflepuff! He will find a way to burn the disgusting hat before it could say Puff"
" Ah well I suppose it’s good to have some creature comforts."
“Slytherin!” It bellowed out into the hall. 
Draco broods at the slytherin table after all he knows where everyone will go.Until the hall goes silent. He picks up his head only to find Harry Potter striding towards him with a smirk. 
Oh no! He has ruined everything. He thought this was a dream or a coma. The afterlife may have thought why he got to be happy was baffling. He’s a slytherin. Any random good fortune should be analyzed before moving forward. On the contrary maybe that is why most of his schemes against the golden trio did not work out so well. Now he  was with the speccy boy as a slytherin. "Merlin, I'm an idiot'
"Don't be so hard on yourself, Draco I was sure you were headed for Hufflepuff and I wasn't sure how I could get into that house with you. " 
"What of course you could get into Hufflepuff, I mean hardworking is a trait isn't it? And you do that, at your aunts with all the chores you talk about. Though academically you were a bit lazy. Loyalty is a pretty trait uh except does it count if you still disobey the people your loyal to cause i dont you like to do that very much, maybe your problem is authority figures ya know?"
Harry was busy looking at the professors to catch that Draco words were just a smidge suspicious. Regardless once he tunes back in the mumbles of the blonde he taps against the top of his temples. 
"Oy stop trying to sort me into another house. also you should watch your words, I think i'm rubbing off on you. What would your elocution tutor think of you using words like yaknow? "
Draco sighs deciding this is a future problem. or maybe he can run it by the savior himself. Obviously an 11 year old potter was able to take care of problems since he entered Hogwarts. 
It's seconds before their first potions class that he remembers Uncle likes to ask difficult questions that he pulls Harry aside and whispers.
Draught of death, Aconite and Stomach of a goat.
Harry, who has decided that Draco is really just a dumb blond with some kind of divine foresight, does not question him at all. 
********************************
Fast forward throughout the year, Draco keeps trying to help but just ends up helpless until Harry saves him.
Then because there were no clues, Draco just straight up asked, if someone was going to steal something and if you touch their hand they probably disintegrate into what would you do?
Uh well you could try to steal the thing first so that they can't get to it but if you just stopped them by holding hands then why not just hold hands? Is this a hypothetical, because you can just ask to hold my hand if you're scared.
Draco dares Harry to hold Proffesor Quirrels hand and double dog dares him to hug the professor. 
Harry was a Gryffindor for a reason in his first life. The DADA teacher turning into dust in the middle of the corridor was not what anyone expected. Harry however is unphased, sure the black cloud was a good effect but it will take more than that to scare him Draco Malfoy. Draco has decided that Harry is insane. 
The duo is seen bickering because Draco refused to tell his best friend how he was able to make the black smoke appear and why he had his father fire the DADA teacher. Harry didn't hate Quirrel that much, though the smell didn't help.
21 notes · View notes
peccaberry · 2 days
Note
Pecca i want you to know that your interpretation of Volo as an angsty teenager is groundbreaking. His course of action in pla makes so much more sense when you read him as, like, 16 having his first religious crisis
THANK YOU FOR UNDERSTANDING ME 😭
Tumblr media
I feel like a really easy thing to forget is that we don't actually know how long the events of PLA go on for
We tend to think of Pokemon characters as locked in on one age I think instead of being actual people who live and grow. I've never really liked that bc it kinda feels unnatural to me. I wanna see these characters live their lives and not be trapped in a timeless bubble of "the narrative".
It's pretty ambiguous how long exactly you're out surveying and given the day/night cycle I don't think it would be ridiculous to say you could be at it for a year in game time before you actually fight Volo depending on if you take your time trying to complete the Pokedex or not.
So to me I think Volo was a 17ish year old teenager who got too lost in the sauce and as he got older his plans got bigger and his Pokemon got stronger and eventually he felt ready to take you and the world on.
I think the idea of a post-pla Volo is so fascinating to me because I want to be able to explore the impact of how something like that would affect such a young guy. He's not like Cyrus who was canonically 27 with his own established organization to help him, he was a younger guy with a dream that he could make the world better that had his own delusions of grandeur crushed at their highest point. The only people he had to fall back on were his Pokemon.
Idk I'm pro Volo learning and maturing somewhat in the years after that. I'm not saying he immediately realizes the error of his ways or anything, especially with his attitude, but I want to believe he could find peace eventually because at some point we all have to or die trying, you know?
Using context clues about how he feels the world is a bad place (and even if we wanna reach into Pokemas and analyze "use people before they use you") he's probably not had very good relationships with the world around him.
I feel like a lot of teenagers especially can relate to feeling like the world is suddenly a lot worse of a place than they thought it was. It's scary and frustrating and relationships with your peers get a lot more complicated. Wanting to put an end to it isn't an uncommon feeling, most of us just aren't given access to powerful Pokemon and the ability to fight god irl at that age.
But that's why the Pokemon world is better 🙏
23 notes · View notes
sir-subpar · 2 days
Text
Weird idea(s) for my Reimagined Hazbin thing:
I might give it a new name soon. Just so we can differentiate it from the original one. Because the more I do this the more I kind of wish this was my own story but wish it also wasn't. I have mixed feelings.
Charlie is technically hald angel, because Lucifer is her father.
But her personality is so unbelievably doe-eyed innocent to the point where it's really frustrating and doesn't make sense. That's something we all know. I've said it before, many others have said it, not a new take.
Tumblr media
But I do have a weird concept for my rewrite. I have my jungle for that she keeps This truly horrifying form hidden underneath her porcelain doll like exterior. It's a concept I've played with before. (More under the cut)
Tumblr media
I like the idea sje made this rehab project out of some spite against Lucifer. If Lucifer restaurant of Heaven for trying to be better than God, maybe Charlie is trying to be better than Lucifer. In a sense it's come full circle.
But it made me think, would have been really reject her so much just because she happened to be related to lucifer? Would they have let her into heaven at some point?
Does Lucifer have shared custody with Lilith in heaven?? Because we see Charlie get taken away as a child, but she's still in hell right now?
Did she go to hell my choice? Was she forced to go? Is it a shared custody thing and then she decided to stay in hell in adulthood?
Part of me is actually kind of curious to explore what that kind of childhood would be like to experience.
And I do wonder if maybe I should explore that in my reimagined version of her. Did she spend part of her childhood in heaven and part of it in hell?
And I also thought about her role in hell overall. Lucifer is immortal, so why have anybody possibly inherit the throne? What is the point of that? Especially for somebody who is infamously selfish and prideful like Lucifer.
Is she not quite holy and not quite unholy?
And then I had a thought.
Maybe her domain isn't heaven, and it isn't hell.
It's limbo, the in between.
I like the idea that she's full of conflicting intentions, just as her childhood was. Does she question her own motives? Is she actually doing this for the greater good or to prove a point? That's what I want to explore. I like the idea that she still has a cutesy exterior, but her true form is barely contained.
She suppressed it, she denies it, she doesn't want to be a demon, but it's part if her, she too, is flawed. She wants to believe she is a wise moral compass, but she too, is lost.
Maybe she has some friends in hell and some in heaven.
Tumblr media
Quick sketch I did.
It might be a weird concept, but isn't that the point of Indie projects? To experiment? To try other things? See what happens.
So, tell me, what do you think of this idea?
If you have any questions or would like any clarifications, let me know.
I'm typing this whole Post in one go so it may not make as much as I think it does.
19 notes · View notes
Note
Tumblr media
Hi Hazel :)
I imagine this a very Diluc-y thing, what would you say?
mmmm - yes -- I am such a simp for this idea (i’ve already thought about writing something like this because #1 hot, #2 i am weak 
90 notes · View notes
xoxoemynn · 4 months
Text
For OFMD Tumblr friends who want a S3 and are scared of Twitter
First, no judgment from me. I very much get it. I resisted Twitter for a long time, and even though I'm now a bit more comfortable on it, it's still not my Fandom Home. There are a TON of valid reasons not to be on Twitter, but if you REALLY want to keep OFMD visible right now and help its chances of returning for a third season, Twitter is the best place to do it. Like it or not, Twitter is still the best social media platform for raising awareness and for instant news updates.
Tumblr posts don't make headlines. Topics that have been trending on Twitter do. And if we want this show to come back, we need to make OFMD impossible to ignore.
By now you've probably seen just how close we came to a S3, and if you're like me, you are RAGING and donning your battle jacket. But I get it can be intimidating to get on Twitter for the first time, so I thought I'd address some common anxieties I see. I'll put below a cut because this got a bit long, but I promise it's a quick read.
I don't know what to say! Where do I even start? That's okay! You don't have to create your own tweets (although it's great if you do). Amplifying other people's posts is also important. Go ahead and like/retweet/reply to other people's posts. This may also help you get an idea of what you may like to say in your own tweets.
Hashtags...yes? Yes! Although don't use too many or you may get flagged as a bot. The biggest one that seems to be emerging is #SaveOFMD. Other popular ones are #RenewAsACrew, #RenewOurFlagMeansDeath, and of course, #OFMD and #OurFlagMeansDeath.
Tumblr media
Should I just be tagging all the streaming services? Per @renewasacrew, no. It's counterproductive. You'll want to tag one streamer at a time and be specific. Below is an example of a tweet I made the other day -- use specific reasons why that that particular streamer may benefit from picking up OFMD.
Tumblr media
I'm scared. People are mean. Yeah, people are mean. But I will say the vibes over at OFMD Twitter are currently the best I've ever seen them. People seem to have united for the greater good and are being overwhelmingly positive and just trying to do whatever we can to save the show. (That said, again, I already had a pretty curated feed, and was very liberal with blocking users/terms I didn't want to see, but I've been able to spend so much more time in the For You tab than I ever have without being jump scared by something.)
But I don't know anyone there! Wouldn't I just be shouting into the void? Not if you use the hashtags! Fans are being really good about following those and engaging with the tweets. Plus, [Stede voice], I'm your friend. I'm xoxoemynn over there as well, I'll follow you back and engage with any of your posts that I see. Plus, what's been REALLY lovely to see is that SO many lurkers have come out of lurkerdom to support the efforts, and they are being welcomed with open arms, so you will not be alone. Again, I am telling you, vibes? Best I've ever seen them.
I can't get sucked into another social media platform, I don't have the time. The beauty here is you don't need to spend a lot of time. I've been on Twitter more in the past week than I have in the entire year I've had an account, and I'm still only on for maybe an hour total the entire day? I open the app, I check a couple accounts, I engage with a handful of posts, and I close the app. It takes all of five minutes. It's an extremely small lift that can have a very big impact.
My bet is on Zaslav expecting us to be upset, and that there may be a day or two of outrage, but then we'd move on. I'm sure right now he's trying to convince everyone that this is a fluke, and that it'll blow over soon. Don't let him win. Keep OFMD in the news. Be loud (but polite) and make Max and other streamers take note of what a passionate, loyal fan base this show has. Make their stocks continue to drop. Make it clear this is NOT just a fluke, it is NOT business as usual. It's a BIG fuck up with lasting consequences.
Twitter, for all its sins, is the best place to do this.
Now let's get our damned show back.
408 notes · View notes
aurantia-ignis · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
"Can I have this dance~"
Doodled this for animation practice. Also I miss them.
122 notes · View notes