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#i prefer zero but this one was insanely good
zaddyazula · 9 months
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killing myself tonight
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actual-changeling · 5 months
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A small 'this is how you use tumblr' for the people that haven't been here very long. These are in no particular order, and if you have any questions, feel free to ask them!
Since I probably did not mention a lot of things, you are welcome to add to this post with your own advice.
a) Reblog posts. if you like it, reblog it. even if you have zero followers and ESPECIALLY if it's art or writing of any kind. We will see the reblog in our notifications and that alone brings joy. One reblog can start a chain and push the post onto many people's dashes.
b) Tumblr is not a very functional website, if you want to survive without losing your mind, there are two things you need: xkit rewritten and dashboard unfucker. Play around with the settings until it is to your liking. Additionally, change to firefox if you haven't already and install ublock origin to get rid of ads, tracking etc.
c) If you go to your settings (account! not blog) you can find this under dashboard at the bottom. Turn off at the very least 'best stuff first' since that will fuck up your dash and not give you posts in chronological order.
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The rest are a perfonal preference but it will keep your dash tidy and easy to control if you turn them off, too.
d) Apropos settings—get a profile picture, a header, write something human in your bio, anything. Otherwise people will assume you are a bot and block you on sight.
e) Blocking! Do it generously and whenever you want, this is how you keep whatever remains of your sanity. It's not a lethal offense, it is (usually) not even seen as rude or anything along those lines. You block people and they block you and everyone is happy.
f) Under account settings you will find this:
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Just like with blocking, use both options to your heart's content.
g) Tumblr is not like other social media platforms, spam liking & reblogging and going three years deep into someone's account is NORMAL and encouraged. You can search a blog by post type, tags, or even go to the archive and scroll through the posts there.
h) Lastly—interaction. We already went over reblogging (I mean it, REBLOG), but there are also replies and asks. If you add something to someone else's post please behave like a kind human being and don't be an asshole; based on my experience, that's easier said than done. On top of that, the tags are ALSO used for communication, go unhinged, ramble, leave your thoughts, or simply use them for organisational purposes. Everyone loves a good insane tag wall.
An open inbox (either anonymously or with your blog attached) is to be used! Please send people asks if they have them active, use it like DMs or a comment section, use it to recommend something, ask questions, participate in an ask or prompt game—we love asks here.
(We do not like harassment in our inboxes, same rules as above.)
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wheresarizona · 1 year
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Creed
summary: Upon meeting Bo-Katan Kryze and discovering there are other Mandalorians out in the galaxy who remove their helmets, Din Djarin is suddenly questioning his beliefs and unable to stop from wondering what you, his wife, look like under your own helm.
rating: E (18+!! No y/n, Soft Din Djarin, established relationship, age gap (10 years), alternating pov, unprotected p in v, creampie, BREEDING KINK, oral sex (f receiving), first kiss, dirty talk, praise kink, domestic fluff, fluff, removing helmets for the first time, religious guilt, did I mention breeding kink? Din being so in love he wants to break the Creed, good parent Din Djarin)
pairing: Din Djarin/f!Mandalorian reader (from the Tribe with zero physical descriptions)
word count: 6.2k
a/n: It’s called Creed, but Breed also works. Lmaooo @what-muses sent in the prompt for Din hearing reader singing to Grogu, and I am so insanely sorry for this not being super wholesome. I just know in my heart Din would hear the woman he loves singing to their kid, and he’d want more children. 😭😭😭 I legit wrote 95% of this while either sick or in the ER to make myself feel better. Takes place during season 2. Thank you to the love of my life @juletheghoul for betaing this.
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to hear what you thought of it!
Masterlist
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He knows his own face—the color of his eyes, the curve of his nose, the crease between his eyebrows, the patchy facial hair. He knows the shape of his lips, the dimple in his cheek, and the lines that show his age. He’s the only person who can take in all of these details and know they belong to him, something secret, sacred—the Way of the Mandalore means no other living being can see him without his helmet. It also means you’ve never seen his face, but that’s never been an issue since you also follow the Creed.
Staring at his reflection in the ‘fresher mirror, his naked body clean from the sonic shower, he slowly moves the razor over the skin of his cheek, wondering briefly what you look like under your purple helm.
Pausing, his eyebrows furrow, realizing the thought has never once crossed his mind—it wasn’t something he ever would have wondered before because it’s never been important. The two of you had your beliefs and followed them, not caring about what was beneath the beskar, all that mattered was you loved each other.
You’ve been together since he’d saved the kid from the Client, you leaving Nevarro with him, your relationship shifting as time went on—the two of you keeping the child safe and falling in love in the process.
Then on your quest to reunite the small boy with his kind, you’d met the other Mandalorians, discovering there were many out across the galaxy who didn’t follow the Creed or the ways of old. They believed you could be a Mandalorian and remove your helmet and that your tribe was a cult.
Continuing shaving, he rinses the razor blade under water before sliding it along his other cheek. A lot of people preferred using depil cream to remove their facial hair, but Din liked the precision of the razor over the viscous liquid.
It was overwhelming hearing all that Bo-Katan had said and having this new knowledge, making him wonder what it truly meant to be a Mandalorian.
Could he really put the helmet back on once he took it off in front of another?
With the location of a Jedi and your time with your foundling running out, it was important he was present to witness your union, both knowing you were going to spend the rest of your days together by each other’s sides. Din and you exchanged your vows, committing to one another for life in the cockpit of the Razor Crest with your child in attendance and the bright streaking stars of hyperspace flying by.
His face is mostly shaved, leaving hair on his chin and above his lips, now using a small pair of scissors to trim his mustache.
It doesn’t matter to him that no one else gets to see how he looks. He’s still particular in how he likes his facial hair, unable to stand too much of it under his helmet, keeping the hair on his head cropped short for comfort.
It makes him wonder if you have preferences as he shapes his mustache.
How long is your hair? What color is it? What color are your eyes? What does your smile look like? What will your children look like?
His hand stops, his eyes widening.
Gulping hard, that’s another thought that’s never crossed his mind. He knows you’re going to have children together. It’s something you’ve discussed, but not once has he thought of their looks. Things like that didn’t matter to Mandalorians, who spend their lives covered head to toe in armor. He wonders if he’d be able to pick out the pieces of you in them to get a glimpse of what the woman he loves looks like—he wants to know.
Why is he stuck on this?
It’s not the Way.
Din sighs, finishing what he’s doing.
The scissors get put back into his shaving kit, cleaning the sink of his hair clippings, happy you got a room at the inn here on Nevarro while the Crest is being repaired. The two of you are planning to help Greef and Cara with a small matter in the morning in exchange for the ship's repairs.
Once he’s done, the stuff shoved into his bag, Din pulls out clean clothes to change into for the night, settling for some cloth pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Putting his helmet on, he gathers his bag and flight suit, the rest of his armor out in the room you’re in with the kid, stacked neatly beside your own.
Greef was the one who provided the accommodations, Din assuming it’d be a basic room—a bed, a refresher, the necessities. That wasn’t good enough for the magistrate, though. Instead, he’d set you up in a one-bedroom suite with a sitting room and a tiny kitchen.
Making his way out of the ‘fresher and bedroom, he stops in his tracks at what he hears.
You’re sitting at the small dining table, the kid in the seat beside you happily accepting the food he’s passed, which was a common occurrence, it’s the song you’re singing that has Din so caught off guard.
He’s heard you hum a lot—tunes were always getting stuck in your head that you picked up in cantinas or buskers on the street. You’ve sung before, too, but you were trying to make him and the kid laugh with your boisterous renditions of Mandalorian drinking songs.
This is different.
It’s not loud—it’s soft, sweet, the Mando’a flowing from your lips like a soft caress, hearing your love for the child with every syllable sung. This is a song mothers sang to their children, having heard such a thing back at the covert, about Mandalore the Great taming his mythical mythosaur and the strength all Mandalorians had.
There’s a helmet on your head, and he can’t help imagining what your face looks like under the t-visor. He can hear your love, would he be able to see it, too? There’s a smile in your voice, and it makes his chest squeeze at how he wishes he could look upon it.
Din knows you, and you know him.
He knows your likes and dislikes, your deepest, darkest secrets—everything about you, Din has learned and loves.
And now he wants more of you to love—he wants all of you, wants to see all of you.
You’re a wonderful mother, the kid so happy with you, taking him in like he’s your own flesh and blood, and something inside Din is screaming that you need more children—he needs to give you that, more little ones to love, and sing to, as many as you want, the thought of you pregnant with his child making his skin heat.
Stars, you’d be even more beautiful round with his baby.
He swallows hard, his pants feeling a little tight.
He knows everything about you, he loves everything about you, and guilt has settled like a stone in his stomach that he suddenly can’t get his mind off what’s under the beskar on your head.
The singing stops when you notice him, your t-visor trained on his prone form, standing just inside the room.
“Hey!” you say, handing the child more food. “It’s dinner time—ordered food while you were in the ‘fresher. Got you something I know you’ll like.”
It takes him from his reverie, finally moving again to set his bag near the table by the couch, the shining pieces of both of your armor on top of it. He tosses his flight suit onto the sofa over his cape, walking over to where you and the kid are.
He’s behind your chair, rubbing his hands over your arms as he replies, “Thank you, my love.” Leaning down to gently knock his helmet against yours in the semblance of a kiss before moving around the table to take a seat.
What would your lips feel like on his?
He has to shake the question from his brain, clearing his throat, and opening the food container in front of him.
It makes him smile when he sees you did get him something he’d like—skewers of meat and vegetables.
Picking one up, he uses the fork beside him to push off the chunks into the container, discarding the skewer and using his free hand to lift his helmet up just enough to take a bite. He groans happily at the spices enveloping his tongue, chewing and swallowing.
“Good?” you ask, beginning to eat your own dinner the same way he was.
In the company of other Mandalorians, it was generally protocol to go off and eat alone, but you’d been traveling in the tight confines of the Crest for so long that barely lifting the helmet was an acceptable compromise, avoiding looking at each other as you did it.
“Really good,” he replies, shoving more into his mouth.
The kid coos contently, full from his meal, while you both enjoy your own, sharing snippets of conversation between bites.
By the time you’re both finished, the little one is falling asleep in his chair, and helmets are once again covering your faces.
“I’ll put him to bed,” you softly say, starting to get up from your chair.
“The couch,” he says a little too quickly.
“The couch?” Your tone is teasing. “Got plans since we have a bed this evening, my dear husband?”
“Maybe I do.”
“In that case, the couch it is,” you reply, disappearing into the bedroom and returning with a pillow and blanket that you put onto the sofa, coming back over to the table to take the child.
Din busies himself cleaning up the trash and finds himself stuck in place when he’s done as he watches you sitting next to the kid, stroking his big ears while softly singing an old lullaby.
That need comes crashing into him again, the one telling him to give you a baby. It’s loud, something primal that he feels deep down that won’t be satisfied until he’s buried himself inside your cunt and pumps you full of his seed.
Arousal is burning in his gut, his cock stirring, eyes locked on your downturned helm and the curve of your breasts under your shirt.
He wants to strip you bare and feel your skin, batting away the intrusive thought of getting your helmet off—his, too, in order to lick and suck what he wants to touch.
He’s so lost in thought he doesn’t realize you’ve gotten up until you’re whispering by the bedroom door, “You coming?”
His bare feet move quickly, following you into the other room. Once the door is shut and the lock engaged, he’s crowding into you, needing to get his hands on your body, rubbing them over your soft belly and up to cup your breasts.
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“You’re in a mood,” you giggle, Din’s hands roaming all over your body, your front, back, down to grab your ass.
“Need you,” he grunts.
Sliding your hands down his chest, you move lower to palm his half-hard dick in his pants, feeling it twitch under your touch.
“Yeah, you do.”
His eagerness is turning you on, wishing you could kiss him.
That makes you frown.
Over a year together and never once have you thought of kissing Din or seeing him without his helmet, for that matter, and yet, for days now, these things have been popping up in your brain. Kept you wondering what he looks like, or the face he was making in a moment or how soft his lips were, or the color of his eyes—plagued by thoughts that went against how you were raised and what you believed, clear violations of the Creed you swore to live your life by.
It’s never been an issue, always a fact that the helmet stayed on in front of another, and then you met Bo-Katan, and now you were at constant war with your own mind, feeling like it was an enemy you couldn’t vanquish in battle.
There are other Mandalorians out there, who even wish to reclaim Mandalore, and they believe you can remove your helm in the presence of another—Bo-Katan’s own armor had been passed down for three generations.
What if it was okay to remove it?
Would Din want to?
Would he still love you?
“What’s wrong?” he asks, taking you from your thoughts.
His hands are now caressing the sides of your helmet, a little intrusive thought in the back of your mind wishing he’d take it off.
“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “Just… thinking.”
“About what?”
“Stuff…”
His head tilts in confusion.
“Tell me.”
That’s the thing about Din, he’s your best friend, your husband, you can tell him anything, which is why you tell him the truth.
“Bo-Katan and the others, they are Mandalorians and remove their helmets.”
“Yes, they do not follow the Creed.”
“Do you believe they are Mandalorians?”
“Do you?”
“Bo-Katan was born on Mandalore. She fought in the Great Purge. I do believe they are Mandalorians.”
“As do I.”
“You do?”
“I do.” He nodded.
“Din, we grew up believing in the Way of the Mandalore—it’s all we’ve known. We went through the same ceremony, we swore to walk the Way and never remove our helmets, but I—” Your hands go up to cradle where his cheeks would be “—can’t stop thinking about what you look like, and I feel ashamed because I know it’s wrong.”
“It’s not wrong.” He sounds hopeful. “I feel the same and want to see your face, too.”
That has you taken aback.
“You do…?”
“I do.” He nods.
“But will you still love me…?” you ask, barely above a whisper.
“Of course. I love you for you and not for what’s underneath the beskar.”
“That’s a lie. You’re obsessed with my body.”
He chuckles, “I am because I love you and would continue loving you even if it changed…” he trails off like he’s thinking about something “I. Love. You.” he adds, saying each word clearly.
“Promise?”
Pressing a hand over his heart, he answers, “On my life.”
“Okay, I believe you.”
“Will you still love me…?” The question comes out slowly.
“We literally just had a conversation over how you love me for me, and you have to know I feel the same way.”
“Just making sure.” You can hear his smile.
“So, would you like to break the Creed with me…?”
Your heart is hammering in your chest.
“More than you know.”
Relief washes over you, combined with giddiness.
“Thank the Stars!” you exclaim happily.
“At the same time?” He’s as eager as you are, his hands moving back to hold your helmet again.
“Yes.”
Gripping his, you both count down together, “Three, two, one…” Carefully, you lift his beskar, your own coming off, blinking at the light in the room, and your eyes zeroing in on the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen, your mouth falling open in shock.
A person’s looks have never meant much to you, thinking some were pleasing to the eye, you finding someone’s prowess in battle more attractive along with their personality.
Din is a formidable opponent, always succeeding in his endeavors because he is highly intelligent, strong, and knows how to fight and use a weapon.
Even though many fear your husband, he’s actually a very sweet man, caring, loving, and will protect you and your foundling with his life.
And now you know he is also unbelievably attractive.
Beautiful chocolate eyes are rounded as they stare at you, the look on his face a twin of your own, loving his nose, and the messy brown hair on top of his head, seeing that he recently shaved with his facial hair looking neat, taking in every detail and line of the man you love.
“Beautiful,” he whispers in awe, and it has tears brimming in your eyes, bending down to set his helmet on the ground, him doing the same with yours, your hands moving to touch his face when you both straighten.
He’s so gentle when his broad palms caress your cheeks, almost like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.
Smiling, you reply, “You’re very handsome yourself.” You reach up to smooth your thumbs over his eyebrows. “Your eyes are stunning. I hope our child gets them.”
His lips tip up, and Stars, they’re so plush, you can’t help yourself when you lean in to press your own against his, him making a surprised sound.
Your heart picks up in speed, having wondered what it would be like to kiss him, and at first, it’s soft; the warmth spreading under your skin, meaning to only give him a peck, but then he’s pulling you closer, kissing you a little harder. It’s lingering, his lips moving against yours in tiny movements that have fire burning brightly in your veins, following his lead to mimic what he was doing again and again and again.
It’s not like either of you has any experience with this type of thing, so you’re figuring it out as you go, doing what feels good, getting braver and more comfortable. Your fingers slide into the thick strands of his hair, moaning when his tongue slides over your bottom lip, instinctively opening for him. This was somehow better, more intimate, tasting each other, exploring the other’s mouths until the need to breathe became too much, and you’re separating with smiles on your faces, Din’s lips red and shiny from spit.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, and it makes you feel all gooey.
“You’re very handsome.”
You stroke your fingers over his cheeks, his hands on your jaw, rubbing a thumb over your wet bottom lip.
It’s like you both can’t stop yourselves from staring, eyes taking in every little detail of the other's face, saving them to memory.
The need rises, and you’re kissing once more, it’s messy before you’re both moving to get your clothes off as quickly as possible—once stripped, Din’s mouth is on yours as he walks you back toward the bed, falling with you on top of it.
His hips are slotted between your thighs, his lips detaching from yours to kiss along your jaw, over your cheeks, up on your forehead, and the tip of your nose.
It makes you smile, him kissing all over your face, then to your ear, shoving his nose in your hair, and inhaling.
“Fuck, you smell amazing,” he says.
That makes you laugh.
“Thanks, but we use the same stuff—we smell the same.”
“No.” He nips at your ear, sucking it into his mouth, gasping at the jolts of pleasure shooting to your center. “You smell better.”
You press your fingers into his hair.
“Stars,” you moan, his lips trailing down your neck and sucking hard on your pulse point. “It feels so good, Din.”
His mouth is so warm, leaving your skin wet in the wake of his kisses, and he can’t seem to get enough, lips streaking across every bit of you as he travels down your body. His mouth engulfs your stiff nipple, making your back arch, gasping his name.
Arousal is hot in your belly, the feeling incredible as he laves at one hard bud, then the other, your head feeling dizzy while soft sounds spill from your lips.
He comes off your nipple with a pop, continuing his journey lower, kissing over your belly until he’s half off the bed, his big hands spreading your thighs.
There’s a look of hunger on his face as he stares at the apex of your thighs, his fingers moving to spread open the lips of your sex, seeing the pink of his tongue peek out to swipe across his bottom lip like he wants to taste you. The look has excitement thrumming in your veins, wanting nothing more than to know what it feels like to have his mouth on you.
“Taste it,” you purr, and his eyes meet yours, his so dark barely any of the beautiful brown remains. “I know you’ve licked me from your fingers.” You’ve seen him on more than one occasion lift his helmet just enough to suck your arousal from digits after they’d been inside you. “Taste it—I want your tongue.” You bit your lip between your teeth.
“Fuck,” he rasps, wasting no time dipping his head forward, licking a stripe through your slit, the flat of his tongue going from your entrance to your clit. He’s groaning into your sensitive flesh as you moan at how good it feels, him laving at every bit of slick he can find, your back arching when he pushes the wet muscle inside you.
“You taste so good.” His words are muffled in your cunt, his mouth moving up, making your toes curl when he sucks on your bundle of nerves.
Even though this isn’t an act either of you has ever done before, Din is a quick learner, knowing intimately what makes you tick—once he has his fill of your taste, he slides two thick fingers inside you, crooking them into that spot he always zeros in on, your vision going white for a second at the shock of pleasure.
“Din,” you moan, threading your fingers into his brown waves for something to hold onto.
The muscles in your belly are beginning to tighten, the heat in the base of your spine growing.
His big brown eyes lock on yours from between your legs, seeing your arousal glistening in his mustache and on his plush lips.
“Wanna taste your come,” he husks, his fingers continuing to work. “Can you come for me? Please?”
This might be his first time, but that big brain of his has quickly worked out how to get what he wants, keeping his gaze on yours while pulling your perky little clit into his mouth, sucking on it while his fingers slide along something divine, rocketing you toward your release.
Your hands tighten in his hair at the pleasurable fire building in your core, feeling it getting hotter and hotter as he works you over, having to bite your fingers to muffle your noises when euphoria explodes inside you, quieting your whine of his name.
“That’s it, beautiful,” he says into your pussy. “My good girl—such a good girl.”
His fingers leave you, replaced with his tongue, hearing and feeling him loudly groan as he indulges in your come, drinking it down from the source.
Your chest is heaving, breathing hard as you come down, your husband having the best time with his mouth on your cunt if the noises are anything to go by.
He got to explore your body, and it’s your turn, salivating at the thought.
Tugging on his hair, you say, “Din?”
His head comes up, looking a little lost with glazed-over eyes, the bottom half of his face shining in the light of the room.
All he can do is grunt in response.
“Get up on the bed and lay down on your back, please.”
His face pinches in confusion.
“What?” he whispers.
You smile. He seems almost drunk, a state you’ve never seen him in since he doesn’t like anything inhibiting his mind or body.
“Get up here, my love—” You pat the bed beside you. “—and lay down on your back. It’s my turn.”
It registers what you say, and he nods, doing as he’s told and crawling up onto the mattress and flopping down next to you with his head resting back on a pillow. Rolling over, you throw your leg over his waist, moving to straddle his hips, your wet center pressing his hard cock into his stomach. You rub your hands up his soft belly and over his chest, seeing the faded scars on his golden skin.
“You’re beautiful,” you say.
His cheeks pink at the comment.
“Thank… you…” he replies, his hands grabbing your waist, smoothing his thumbs over your skin. “You’re more beautiful than the Diathim.”
Your eyebrow raises. “You’re saying I’m prettier than an angel?”
“Songs should be sung of your beauty—there’s nothing that compares in the entire galaxy.” He says it with such conviction your breath hitches, taken aback by the look on his face telling you he means it.
“We should get married,” you blurt out.
“What…?”
“I want to marry you again and see your face when we say our vows.”
You’re fascinated by how you can see him visibly soften, his mouth turning up in a grin that reveals an adorable dimple, reaching his hand to cup your cheek.
“Will you marry me again?” he asks.
You’re matching his look, nodding as you say, “Yes!” Unable to keep yourself from leaning down to press your mouth to his, moaning when you taste yourself in the passionate kiss. His arms wrap around your back, hugging you close to him, losing yourselves for a minute in your happiness.
You’re panting when you break apart.
You’d wanted to take your time getting your mouth all over his body, but there’s a sudden need to have him inside of you—sitting up on your knees, you snake your hand between your bodies to take his cock in hand, pressing it to your aching entrance.
You moan in unison as you lower yourself on him, watching his face as his mouth falls open, his hands grabbing onto your hips, the thick girth of him stretching you open and filling you inch by glorious inch until your thighs meet, feeling so unbelievably full.
“Stars, you feel so good,” you breathe.
“Not as good as you feel.” His words come out strained, watching his throat work as he swallows hard.
You do an experimental roll of your hips, making his fingers tighten in your skin.
His eyes are on yours. “I want to see you come while I’m inside you,” he husks. “Can you do that? Can you use me to make yourself feel good?”
“Yes,” you answer, starting to move up and down, your hands on his chest for leverage.
You love having him inside you—the way he fits so perfectly, rubbing against all the right spots, joining you together.
His hands are on your body while you ride him, rubbing along your ribs and over your stomach, moving up to palm the weight of your breasts, tweaking your nipples, sending jolts straight to your pussy.
“Ride my cock, pretty girl,” Din says in a low rasp. “I love watching you—so beautiful. Use me.”
Adjusting your hips has him sliding into that sacred place that makes your head spin, rising and falling at a pace that’s slowly building you up and up.
Arousal is dripping out of you and down his shaft, allowing you to move with ease, Din’s eyes locked on your face, groans spilling from his throat, looking wrecked at you bouncing on him.
His cock is hot and hard inside you, lifting your hips and slamming your ass down, working yourself closer to your end.
It’s exhilarating to be able to see how good he feels and how much he’s enjoying himself. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes lust-blown, his forehead glistening with sweat.
“I know you’re almost there.” His words come out rough. “You gonna come for me? Gonna be my good girl? I know you can do it. Wanna watch you—wanna see you come, my love.”
“So close,” you pant.
You’re rising and falling, moans slipping from your lips, the knot in your belly winding tighter and tighter until it’s snapping, and you’re coming with a gasp of his name. Your eyes close as pleasure expands from your center, spreading through your body.
“So beautiful,” Din marvels in a groan. “Such a good girl. I love you—I love watching you.”
“I love you, too,” you breathe, your orgasm beginning to ebb.
A surprised sound comes from you when suddenly you’re jostled, Din groaning as he sits up, keeping you on him as he gets situated with you in his lap, spreading his legs on the bed for balance.
You’re now face to face, his hand gently cupping your cheek as his lips find yours, kissing you tenderly, his other arm wrapped around your back to hug you to him. You thread your fingers in his hair, melting into him, accepting his tongue when he deepens the kiss.
You’ve found you love kissing. There was something about it that was so intimate—sharing breaths, being so close, and tasting him.
His hair is so soft and thick, scratching your nails gently along his scalp and feeling him shiver beneath you.
His hands go to your ass, gripping it tight while he starts moving you in his lap, his lips still on yours.
“Want you close,” he murmurs into your mouth. “Need you close.”
You bounce up and down on his throbbing cock, your knees on either side of his hips helping you rise and fall, fucking yourself on him as you keep kissing.
His words are muffled against your lips, “You’re so beautiful, strong, fierce, loving, and good with the kid.” He moves you faster, using his strength to lift you, grunting in exertion. “I watched you tonight with him—I want more little ones.”
The thought makes you clench around him.
“Din,” you moan, feeling him smile.
“I want to raise more warriors with you,” he continues. “I want to father your children. I want to fuck a baby into you,” he groans, his cock twitching. You can tell he’s getting close as you breathe hard, your thighs burning deliciously. “I want to fill you up, fuck you full of me over and over until it takes.” His words have arousal curling in your gut and the familiar heat building at the base of your spine, bouncing up and down in his lap. “I want to see you round with my child. I want to have as many as you’ll allow. I want to fill the ship, then a house with our kids. I want to see you mother more of my children and sing them the songs of old. I want you, all of you.”
It all sounds so good, wanting the same, gasping, “Yes.”
“Can I?” he asks in a wrecked tone. “Can I fuck a baby into you? Can I get you pregnant? Please. Please, can I father your child?”
“Stars, yes,” you moan. “Please. I want one. Fill me up—keep me full.”
He groans loudly, kissing you hard, making you gasp in surprise when he tackles you onto your back on the mattress, his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs, holding himself up on his forearms beside your head.
He starts moving fast, fucking into you with abandon to chase his high. The wet slap of skin on skin is sounding in the room, along with his grunts muffled by your mouth, filling you over and over, his thick cock pushing in so deep he’s kissing your womb.
You grab onto his broad shoulders, needing something to hang onto, digging your nails into his golden skin. The kisses are sloppy, the tension rising in your belly. His pace gets uneven until he pushes in one last time, going as deep as he can, coming with a ragged groan. You can feel him jerk inside you and the wet pulse as warmth fills your depths. He rocks his hips, moving a hand between your bodies to circle your clit, already so worked up that it doesn’t take much to have you cresting softly with a moan of his name. Your body tenses up, Din grunting as your cunt chokes his dick, working his spend even deeper inside you.
“That’s it,” he groans. “So good to me, my good girl.”
You’re both panting, and he moves his head to the crook of your neck, collapsing on top of you.
It makes you smile when you press your fingers into his sweat-damp hair; how soothing it is to just run your fingers through the brown waves and lightly scratch at his scalp, Din practically purring.
“That’s so nice.” He slurs.
“I like It, too.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
It’s comfortable as you both lie there, not caring about your sweaty bodies or his weight on you, just basking in the afterglow together.
It feels like you’re so close, neither of you would know where one ends and the other begins—so tangled up in each other it feels as though you’re one—one body, one heart, one soul.
Minutes pass in silence, Din groaning as he moves to get up, kneeling between your spread legs. His eyes are locked on where you’re connected, hissing when he pulls himself out of you. Your eyes widen when his fingers catch some of his come that’s dripped out of you, moaning when he pushes it back inside.
“Don’t want to waste a drop,” he says. “Can you keep it inside, my love?”
“Yes,” you breathe.
He smiles.
“Thank you.”
His hand leaves you watching in interest as he pushes the digits between his lips, sucking them clean with a groan. They leave his mouth with a pop, his gaze on yours.
“I’ll never tire of how good you taste.” He says.
“I feel like you’re going to be insatiable.” You tease.
He smiles, and you love it so much that you wish to see it every day for the rest of your life.
“I’m already insatiable.”
“Yes, you are.” You reply with the same look on your face.
Quickly he’s off the bed and coming back with a warm wet cloth, gently wiping you down and cleaning himself up, it getting tossed to the floor when he’s done.
He pulls you to lay correctly on the bed in his arms with your heads cushioned by pillows, facing him.
The lights are still on, and you just stare into each other's eyes, losing yourself in his dark pools, him smiling softly under his mustache.
“I’m so happy to know your face,” he whispers, his big hand sliding along your cheek. “I love you.”
“I’m happy to know your face, too,” you say just as softly. “The face of the man I love, who will father my children.”
He smiles brightly, his eyes crinkling adorably at the edges, leaning in to kiss you.
There’s light banging heard at the door that can only be made by tiny fists, Din and you separating immediately with wide eyes.
“Were we too loud?” You whisper.
Din grimaces, answering, “Maybe?”
You’re both moving immediately, jumping out of bed and tugging on your clothes, the air in the room tinged with sex. At least the kid chose to wake up after you’d finished. It was always incredibly awkward when he interrupted during.
The two of you look disheveled, Din’s hair a mess on top of his head, and his cheeks tinted pink.
“Go wash your hands and face,” you tell him. “I’ll get him.” Neither of you bothered putting on your helmets, your husband heading for the en suite, while you made it to the door, disengaging the lock and opening it.
You’re smiling as you look down at the child, him staring up at you with a weird look on his face.
“Hey, buddy,” you say, and his eyes get big, him babbling something pointing at your head. It makes you laugh. “It’s okay,” you reassure, leaning down to pick him up. He’s staring at you, his big eyes somehow bigger. “This is what I look like under the helmet.” His little clawed hand reaches out, pressing it to your cheek as he coos, and it warms your heart.
“Hey, you little womp rat,” Din’s warm voice says as he enters the room, you turning so the kid can see him. The child is babbling up a storm, holding his arms out, and Din chuckles, taking him as soon as he’s within reach. “Did we wake you up?” he asks. “We were just, uh, sparring, yeah, we were sparring, there’s nothing you need to worry about.” The kid is looking at him in wonder, reaching to touch Din’s cheek, the man smiling. “Yeah, I’m not wearing my helmet.” The child looks at you and back at Din, chattering up a storm.
“I think he’s confused.” You tell your husband.
“Yeah, I think he is.” His attention goes back to the kid in his arms, rubbing his back, speaking in a soft tone, “Hey, it’s okay, buddy.” The child goes silent as he listens. “There, uh, were those other Mandalorians who took off their helmets, and we decided to do the same. Everything’s okay. It’s still us.” He’s cooing again, patting Din’s cheek, making his dad chuckle. “It’s my face.” The kid yawns. “You ready to go back to bed?”
You’re already moving toward the mattress, taking off the top blanket, tossing it onto the floor, and pulling back the sheets.
Din walks over and gets in on the other side while still holding the child.
The boy ends up on Din’s chest, his tiny hand reaching up to rub the man’s earlobe while softly babbling—you crawl in next to your husband, resting your head on his shoulder, the lights turned off.
You’re beyond happy to know what the man you love looks like, and you can’t wait to add to your little family, rubbing a hand over your belly.
Your period is almost a month late, and you have a feeling it has nothing to do with stress.
Din was going to be ecstatic.
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juliasgoodusername · 1 year
Text
Sometimes a girl has to go a little crazy. Sometimes a girl has to make a book-accurate floorplan for 300 Fox Way. These things just happen, sometimes.
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Obsessive annotations under the cut ✨ but be warned, there's a LOT
Exterior
Okay first of all, I'm no architect, and my only knowledge comes from work experience in the real estate industry + a lot of Sims. The style is sort of neo-rural French colonial. I didn't set out to adhere to that standard so much as I made an amalgamation of homes in Blue Ridge Mountains-adjacent towns in Virginia. Specifically, my headcanon Henrietta template is Orange, VA (I'll save that explanation for another post) so I took inspiration from real estate listings from there.
Alright alright I know there is supposed to be one bathroom, but I simply can't tolerate that in a house with 6+ residents. I can't. There was a possible contradiction in the descriptions of "the single shared bathroom" that I used as an excuse to add a 3/4 bath, and I threw in a powder room for free. Because technically there is still only one full bathroom! But seriously with that many women over 30 most of them probably have IBS or chronic constipation and I'm not making them all share a toilet.
Officially we only have 4 bedrooms listed in text: Blue's, Persephone's, Maura's, and Calla and Jimi's shared one. Everyone else gets rooms that don't qualify as bedrooms via Virginia residential building codes (such as the attic, obviously, which falls below the combined ceiling height and square footage requirements). That really just leaves Orla unaccounted for but I'll get to that later. Other aunts and friends seem to visit during the day and live somewhere else, because in The Raven King only Jimi and Orla were described as needing to move out of the house during the demon stuff.
I designed the entire interior floorplan before I even touched the exterior, so there's a few issues, like how I'm totally missing shutters on the windows that functionally need them most. 🫶 I didn't feel like making the windows smaller to fit them, and I could have added faux-shutters but I think those are stupid. 😘
First floor
"This house is lovely. So many walls. So, so many walls," Malory said as Blue entered the living room a little later.
- Blue Lily, Lily Blue, Chapter 30
Right off the bat, we have an insane number of doors and walls. Old colonial houses are pretty much the opposite of open concept. Functionally I believe that's because it's easier to control heat with closed off rooms, but Virginia is not particularly cold so idk. As for the number of doors, I mean....😤😤😤 I prefer archways/doorless frames in small high-traffic spaces, but every time I thought I could get away with it Maggie would specifically describe doors opening and closing (For example BL,LB Ch 41 gives the reading room double doors, and even the living room gets one in Ch 11. What kind of living room needs a door???). I'm actually missing one of the doorways described in canon, but if you know which one I'm talking about I DARE you to find a place to put that thing!! But I digress.
“Mom," she said as she jumped down the crooked stairs.
- The Raven Boys, Chapter 3
I'm liberally using "crooked" to establish the corner turn stairs. Blue steadies herself on the stair railing when she identifies Gansey for the first time (TRB Ch 15), so I wanted the stairs to have good visual access to visitors. It also sort of has a feng shui-ish effect of separating the public and private energy zones in the house. If that statement made zero sense, I think one of us doesn't know enough about feng shui 👀 and it might be me.
I'm also using that quote to establish Maura's room downstairs, if Blue generally expects to find her mother there, but mostly because everything else was upstairs and it was getting hard to fit. Granted, at one point Blue leads the boys "up the stairs to Maura's bedroom" (TDT Epilogue) but since they were just arriving at 300 Fox Way those stairs could easily be the outdoor ones. There's a handful of little things to support me here, such as Adam grabbing a scrying bowl from Maura's room to use in the reading room (BL,LB Ch 41) implying that her room was the closest place to find one. And speaking of Maura's room-
Calla was overwhelmed by how much shit Maura had in her room at 300 Fox Way, and she told Blue this.
... The mess was taking years from her life. ... Maura liked chaos.
... The psychic hotline rang in the room next door. Calla's concentration fluttered away.
- Blue Lily, Lily Blue, Prologue
Maura is my favorite hypocrite. She claims to detest clutter (TRB Ch 34) and yet her room is literally described as chaos. She probably treats her room like a college student and moves the furniture every time she gets bored/stressed. Thus, I gave her the most insane furniture configuration I could think of while still matching all the contents described.
The phone ringing next door might imply that she neighbors the phone/sewing/cat room, but that area is pretty well described and Maura's room is never mentioned there in any other instance. That leaves us with the kitchen phone (TRB Ch 27) which I put in the hallway with kitchen access as a compromise so it would technically still be in a room next to Maura's.
In the reading room, the man looked around with clinical interest. His gaze passed over the candles, the potted plants, the incense burners, the elaborate dining room chandelier, the rustic table that dominated the room, the lace curtains, and finally landed on a framed photograph of Steve Martin.
- The Raven Boys, Chapter 13
There are so many quotes about the reading room that I just don't feel like citing them, but other details include the mismatched chairs, the shelves, doors etc. It's also described specifically as Maura's "front room" (TRB Prologue) so it's one of the cornerstones that I designed the rest of the layout around. Because of the plants, it makes sense that this room would be south-facing too. (Although idk how much light they get with the wraparound porch awning in the way. Oops lol!)
The outside suddenly seemed vivid in comparison to the dim kitchen. The April-bright trees pressed against the windows of the breakfast area, ...
- The Raven Boys, Chapter 3
Blue Stormed into 300 Fox Way's kitchen and began a one-sided interrogation with Artemus, who was still hidden behind the closed storage closet door.
- The Raven King, Chapter 9
Likewise, I'm using the particularly dim kitchen to place it on the north side, where we also know there's trees in the backyard.
I'll say the kitchen layout is weirder than it strictly needed to be because in the Virginia homes I referenced I adored all the strange kitchens, especially with old timey 'servants area' vibes where laundry kitchen and pantry are all connected. Instead of a kitchen island, they get one of those rolling kitchen carts which I doubled as a bar cart for the drinks they have in the living room.
The kitchen has a doorway to the hall (TRB Ch 13) and the living room is within view when Blue's on the kitchen phone (Ch 27).
Speaking of chapter 27, that's when we get the description "The morning light through the windows turned the drinks a brilliant, translucent yellow." So I put the living room on the east side of the house, where the rising sun would cast really strong light like that.
Second Floor
When she woke up, her normally morning-bright room had the breath-held dimness of afternoon. In the next room over, Orla was talking to either her boyfriend or to one of the psychic hotline callers.
- The Raven Boys, Chapter 3
Blue headed toward the red-painted door at the end of the hall. On her way, she had to pass the frenzy of activity in the Phone/Sewing/Cat Room and the furious battle for the bathroom. The room behind the red door belonged to Persephone, ...
- The Raven Boys, Chapter 11
Blue's room and the Phone/Sewing/Cat room are our cornerstones for this floor. In several examples we know that the Phone/Sewing/Cat room faces the street and has a window (TRB Ch 15, BL,LB Ch 4). While Blue's room is "morning-bright," we also get descriptions of guests at the front door "backlit by the evening sun," (TRB Ch 15) so once again we're probably talking about south windows if it's sunlit at both times of day.
Adam sat awkwardly on the edge of Blue's bed. It felt strange to have so easily gained access to a girl's bed- room. If you knew Blue at all, the room was unsurprising - canvas silhouettes of trees stuck to the walls, leaves hanging in chains from the ceiling fan, a bird with a talk bubble reading WORMS FOR ALL painted above a shelf cluttered with buttons and about nine different pairs of scissors. Against the wall, Blue self-consciously taped up the drooping branch on one of the trees.
- The Dream Thieves, Chapter 49
We get some great descriptions of Blue's room (especially TRB Ch 43), although the above one is my favorite (#wormsforall). Every piece of furniture is accounted for exactly as described except the desk which I added because it seemed practical, and Blue is nothing if not practical™.
Persephone's room is also very well-described, all the way down to the furniture and lighting placement (BL,LB Ch 4 and TRB Ch 11) and it's surprisingly similar to Blue's room, if not a bit smaller. Her room gets strong afternoon sunlight, so I put it on the south too (BL,LB Ch 43).
Calla and Jimi share a room that's also upstairs (TRK Ch 16). Because they are the only two who have to share a room, I have justified that it must be the "master bedroom" (sorry for using that term) and is far bigger than the other bedrooms. I managed to fit two queen beds in there, but some scholars [me] would argue that Jimi and Calla might also share a bed because they are in love. Can you prove me wrong? No, you can't.
As for the bathroom, remember when I mentioned a possible contradiction? Famously, Maura draws the ley line symbol in the steamed up shower door (TRB Ch 1). However, much later we get Maura, Orla, Calla and Jimi all sitting in the bathtub for some kind of ritual (TRK Ch 9). No matter how I picture it, I can't put 4 full grown women in a bathtub together without someone partially sitting on/spilling over the side. But that would be impossible in a combo bath/shower enclosed by glass doors!! Thus, I gave The Bathroom a nice tub and put a small shower in the en suite of Jimi and Calla's room. I know this is a stretch but I don't really care.
Attic
Blue had never been a big fan of the attic, even before Neeve moved in. Numerous slanting roof lines provided dozens of opportunities to hit your head on a sloping ceiling. Unfinished wood floorboards and areas patched with prickly plywood were unfriendly to bare feet. Summer turned the attic into an inferno.
... In one of the narrow dormers, two full-length, footed mirrors faced each other, reflecting mirrored images back and forth at each other in perpetuum.
- The Raven Boys, Chapter 34
Trying to fit the attic access in after everything in the second floor was my biggest challenge, because stairs normally take up a lot of space and you have to be careful about head room. I'm the end, I decided it was one of those fold out attic doors that you have to reach from the ceiling of the hallway. We might get a lot of instances of the attic door being opened (😤 seriously, Maggie... 😤) but technically a trap door in the ceiling is still a door!
Dormers pretty much cemented the French colonial style for me. And you know the drill by now: a hot room probably means a lot of sun, which means I give it a south facing window!
Mud Room/Cellar/Basement
This cellar has absolutely zero mention in the text, but my justification is based in the architecture. So far we've got a funky old colonial house, built without a garage, lots of walls etc. Especially in a low-income/semi-rural area, it's not crazy to assume that 300 Fox Way was built before most residents had refrigerators (1930s-40s). Besides iceboxes, a major way to keep food fresh was root cellars. Modern renovations for old homes convert these to concrete basements, but that's why the basement is so small and connects to the kitchen.
My headcanon is that Orla originally shared a room. Pick whoever you want: Maura, Blue or Persephone, any of them would easily be such a chaotic roommate that Orla snapped and in a fit of teen girl rage moved herself down to the crummy dark basement. Over time, she made efforts to glamorize it, such as a vintage dressing screen to hide the flood drainage pump. The privacy also allows her to bring boyfriends over, even sneaking them through the mud room.
This is really just my artistic license, but I swear it makes a surprising amount of sense in context. There's cases of Orla sneaking into the kitchen (easier if she has a back entrance) and she's almost always using the phone upstairs or in the kitchen (because a basement would get bad reception) even though her calls get kinda ~intimate.
Aaaaaand I think that's everything. Sorry it doesn't look like the photo from the wiki at all, but I couldn't find a source for it and Victorian style wasn't super common in the areas I researched. Let me know if I missed anything major! I'll probably cry myself to sleep if so.
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imaginesheaven · 1 year
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TF 141 reacting to a very strong Reader(gn preferably) ? Like strong to the point they can lift at most 700pds? (315 kgs) like it's paper? Can be romantic or platonic
(ps. I have zero idea if you are taking requests I feel like this would be a funny thing)
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Your wish is my command! This is literally so fun to write :D Keep the requests coming if you want :) I hope you like it!
Warnings: Cursing .. once again (I can't write literally nothing without a single curse word)
Strong!Reader x TF 141 - Friendship Headcanons
The team doesn’t know right away how strong you actually are. It’s not a fact you like to introduce yourself with. Mostly you keep it to yourself until you start to trust the people around you. Apart from this, you like it when people underestimate you.
Funnily your body doesn’t match your strength level at all. You have a rather slender and delicate form.
And that’s how you got your call sign within the Task Force 141. Soap started to call you “Tiny”, which has absolutely nothing to do with your height. He just likes to tease you. Unfortunately, the name got stuck in their brains and everyone calls you “Tiny”. At first you were not happy about it, but over the time you get used to it.
One evening it was your time to shine. Almost the whole team gathered to drink some beer or other alcoholics to unwind from a rather hard mission. Captain Price is nowhere to seen. Probably in his office doing some work like he always does. No one of you is really drunk just a bit more loose than usual.
Of course, Soap started to throw around dares like there is no tomorrow. We all know our beloved Scottish clown. You enjoy the sight as they try to out beat each other in different dares like who can drink more in ten seconds and so on.
“(Y/N), you are so tiny! I’m pretty sure you can’t even pick up Gaz!”, Soap can’t contain his own joy. He would learn in a few seconds to never underestimate someone because of their appearance.
With a bright smile on your lips you stand up and pick up Gaz bridal style. “Okay… that’s new”, Kyle isn’t quite sure how to feel about being carried like this. As if it wouldn’t be enough already you do a few rounds of squats.
The silence is deafening.
You keep doing your squats as Gaz holds onto your form for his dear life. He would never admit it but he feels quite safe and protected in your arms. The soldier starts to see you in a new light. Is that how a crush feels like?!
“Hold on, mate! Wait a second!”, Soap finds his tongue again throwing the empty bottle of beer away in the same second, “Now is my turn!” You put Gaz down and give Soap a chance to be carried bridal style.
“What the hell did they feed you back home?”, Ghost asks quite surprised, which is a rare sight. Grinning you shrug your shoulders doing more squats with Soap in your arms, “Nothing special. I’m just strong and love lifting things.”
“Steamin’ Jesus!”, Soap’s cheeks start to turn red. He has never been carried like that and it feels very good. “Get down, Johnny”, Ghost rolls his eyes playfully annoyed, “You are making a bloody fool out yourself.”
“Why did you keep this secret to yourself?”, Gaz can’t believe they all called you “Tiny” since your transfer into the team. “Just waited for the right moment, I guess”, you hold out your free arms for Ghost, who shakes his head slowly. “Can you carry us both at the same time?”, Soap exclaims excited and almost jumps into your arms again.
Captain Price walks down the hall to get himself a tea. He has been sitting hours at his desk doing tons of paperwork. Now he recalls that he didn’t hear a single word from his team for those said hours. Panic washes over him in an instant. Where were you all and what stupid shit have you done this time?!
“OH MY GOD! THIS IS INSANE!”, Price follows the loud voices he recognizes immediately down the hall but stops abruptly.
There you are all Soap wrapped up in one arm and Gaz in the other one. You carry them both doing squats without even breaking into a sweat. Ghost just raises his beer bottle cheering it at Price, “Hey, Captain! Nice evening, huh?”
Price looks at each of you a solid second with a shocked face, “What the bloody hell I am just witnessing?” Soap claps his hands still excited about your hidden talent, “Tiny is fucking strong, Captain!” Price just nods in agreement, “I can see that.”
“Seems like Tiny isn’t an appropriate call sign anymore”, Ghost summarizes the situation in one sentence. Price can’t still get over the fact you kept this promise for such a long time to yourself. He takes happily the beer that Ghost overs him.
“How much can you lift?”, the Captain can’t take his eyes off of you fascinated and horrified at the same time. You are still doing your squats with Soap and Gaz. You probably could outlift him at any time! He has respected to before but now he kind of worships you. Can’t he have a whole army of soldiers like you?
“Hmm… Around 700 pounds I think was the best I ever did. I can probably lift more but I never tested it out”, you say that like’s something absolutely normal to do. Price almost chokes on his beer as Ghost slides down in his chair. What have you done?
Soap and Gaz share an overly excited glance clapping their hands, “We have to test that out right away!” They wriggle themselves free from your grasp to run around in a search for heavy things to lift.
Ghost wouldn’t admit it but he is also impressed with your skills, “That’s going to be a long night.”
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natalievoncatte · 10 months
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“Careful with that! We have to assume everything here is dangerous.”
Lena would have preferred to be anywhere else. The last thing she wanted to occupy her afternoon was dealing with yet another reminder of her brother’s sprawling insanity. Every one of these weapons caches -he probably would have melodramatically called them “hideouts” or “secret bases”- was like a tombstone marking the grave of the only truly sincere, loving relationship she’d ever had in her life.
He hadn’t always been the slavering maniac with an incoherent obsession with killing a superhero. He’d been a protector and a benefactor, a chess opponent and a confidant, the only person in her life who presented an uncomplicated human connection, without any ulterior motives or conditions.
Everyone else wanted something from her. Money. Power. A competitive advantage. Technological secrets. Or just sex. Lena resented that most of all, the gray old men who saw nothing of her achievements or her intellect and regarded her as just another piece of ass with blue enough blood that they had to ask permission rather than simply grope.
Watching her crew load up the equipment in this sweltering heat made her physically ill, and she was glad she’d skipped breakfast. Kara would be upset if she knew.
She’s had to text Kara and let her know that she’d be out of the office and would have to skip their lunch plans. Kara was…
Kara was becoming a complication, because Kara was doing the one thing Lena wished she wouldn’t: She was giving Lena hope. She’d barreled into Lena’s life with an earnest intensity that had been bewildering at first and intriguing afterwards, with her insistence that they be friends, and constant reminders that they were friends, even as her eyes wandered to Lena’s cleavage or she unconsciously bit her lip and stared that smoldering stare just to look away at the last second.
Lena shook her head, clearing her thoughts of yet another Straight Best Friend taking her down that well-worn path of sapphic suffering. She had bigger fish to fry right now.
It was too bad that her relationship with Supergirl had been so chilly lately. It might have been easier to simply tip off the hero and the government agency she worked with and let them handle the clean up.
Lena was deep in reverie when one of the crates, a bulky reinforced one, dropped a good two feet from a forklift and the wood splintered as the locks burst free.
“Idiot!” Lena shouted at the driver. “This equipment is sensitive and potentially dangerous, and…”
“STARTUP SEQUENCE INITIATED.”
A metallic voice ground out of the crate and it shifted as something vast and bulky moved around inside. Lena stumbled back, glad she’d opted for a sensible set of flats for this, and turned to run.
A metallic claw crashed out of the crate, followed by an arm-mounted rotary cannon. The older model Lexosuit, one of the originals that Lex had planned to illegally smuggle out of the country in a fake theft scheme and sell to the Kasnians, stood up in its shaky, clanking way and took a few steps, shaking off planks and nylon straps the way a baby bird might shake off pieces of shell.
There was nowhere to go. The machine scanned the room, moving jerkily as it zeroed in on her.
Lex’s voice, a recording, boomed from its loudspeakers.
“Ah, dear sister, I see you’ve found another of my hidden fastnesses.”
You melodramatic-
“Oh well. I should thank you for setting off the security system. I won’t have to waste my precious time killing you myself. Au revoir, Lena!”
The suit spun its arm cannon and aimed at her. The barrels assembly made a half turn, the electric motor charging up as it cycled the first 32mm mass-reactive exploding shell into the chamber. Lex had once called it a masterpiece in the art of violating the Geneva Conventions. It was about to blow Lena inside out, and the subsequent shots reduce her to a the chunky consistency of a good bolognése.
But then there was a wind that was not a wind, and SHE was there.
Supergirl seized Lena with precision and grace, hands that could crush diamonds pressed just so over Lena’s ears to protect her from the roar of the guns. Lena wasn’t sure who screamed louder, her or Supergirl, as the revolving barrels ripped out their entire supply of ammunition in a few seconds, pummeling Supergirl’s back with explosions that could have shredded a tank, as the hero cradled Lena, sheltering her with her superhuman body.
When the hellstorm was over, the machine charged at them.
Supergirl did scream now, and fell upon the machine in a berserk rage. Lena had seen her in a fight before and knew she could be terrible to behold, but this was different. The empty suit was struck with such unending fury that she reduced it to shreds of metal and oil-spitting chunks of machinery in moments, spreading it halfway across the floor of warehouse.
When Supergirl rounded on her, Lena’s heart skipped. The hero’s chest was heaving, straining at the crest on her chest even as the bunching muscles on her arms and stomach pulled at the material, her perfect hair swirling around as she turned, that angelic face marred by a streak of oil and a sheen of sweat.
How dare she just look like that. It was incredibly unfair.
Before Lena knew it what was happening, Supergirl was lifting her into a heart-skipping bridal carry, pulling her much too close as she took off. On instinct, Lena pressed her eyes shut and buried her face in the Kryptonian’s neck, to hide from the heights.
Moments later they landed, and Supergirl threw Lena’s balcony door back and deposited her on her feet, leaving her stumbling back against her kitchen island in a daze. Supergirl stared at her, looming over Lena with the height difference increased by her stacked heels and Lena having lost her shoes at some point, so her stocking toes were left curling on the cold floor.
“That thing almost killed you,” Supergirl snapped. “If Is been a millisecond later you’d be dead.”
Her voice was tight with emotion, somewhere between anger, exasperation, and terror, and it felt like a fist closed in Lena’s chest.
“Are you sure you just weren’t there to make sure I wasn’t taking Lex’s old suit for a spin myself?” Lena spat, though her voice trembled. “You don’t seem to trust a thing I say lately. If I tell you the sky is blue you’ll go check.”
Supergirl’s face flushed and Lena braced for another booming, self righteous speech about trust or safety or the meaning of teamwork or some such heroic nonsense, but then her voice shattered into a million pieces and tears welled wet in her eyes.
“All I want is for you to be okay.”
A thousand thoughts danced in Lena’s mind. To ask her why, to defy her, to taunt her, to demand what exactly it was that made Lena so damned important that this woman was so intense about her safety one moment and so angry the next.
In the dance of all those thoughts, the more base instinct won out. Lena grabbed Supergirl by the neck of her suit, just below those delightful collarbones of hers, and used it as a handle to pull herself into a hard, aggressive kiss.
The world hung still for a moment, and Lena felt it all pivot around her. Something big was happening here. Something huge, something…
Something forgotten entirely as Supergirl’s tongue roughly claimed Lena’s mouth and her hands raked over Lena’s ass, dragging her skirt up.
Oh God, she thought, this is actually happening.
Lips pressed to her skin, the words burning hot into her flesh like an invocation.
“Is this okay?” Supergirl whispered.
“Yes,” Lena moaned, without hesitation.
To be continued…
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GOOD AFTERNOON FELLOW ROB ENJOYERS!!
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DO YOU WANNA DRAW YOUR FAVORITE GUY? ARE YOU TIRED OF USING THE SAME THREE STOCK IMAGES FOR THAT PESKY STATIC BODY? WOULD YOU LIKE TO LEARN HOW TO ACHIEVE THE SAME EFFECT USING ONLY YOUR PEN AND LAYER EFFECTS?
WELL THEN BOY DO I HAVE A TUTORIAL FOR YOU!!!
IF YOU FOLLOW THE SIMPLE STEPS LAID OUT DOWN BELOW, YOU TOO CAN BECOME CLINICALLY INSANE LEVEL UP YOUR ART SKILLS BY LEARNING HOW TO MAKE REALISTIC STATIC IN THE DIGITAL MEDIUM!!
okay i'll stop yelling at you now. on with the tutorial!
Step One: Blocking!
this is usually part of the coloring process for me, so you'll need a mostly complete drawing to start out with.
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now, draw out where you want the static to be with white. the average hard round brush will be good for this step, but you can use whatever you like! i for example prefer to use the polygon lasso tool to get more crisp edges (however this effect can also be achieved with the eraser tool).
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for his arms and legs, just outline them in white and color them in.
depending on the pose/perspective you might have to separate certain pieces into different layers. for example, here his left arm and lower torso are clipping through the line art
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so we move them to be below the line art layer and boom! problem solved.
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important note: you can not use another color for the blocking. the white base color is critical in achieving the most convincing static look!
Step Two: Brushes and Blues
now for this step, we will be using these four shades of blue-grey, as well as plain black and white. for your convenience, the hex codes are also included!
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HEX: 1d2427 HEX: 4d5c65 HEX: 899eac HEX: cce6f6
now go to the different brush presets for whatever program you're using. chances are, they'll have some variety of a paint-splatter brush (and if they don't, there's probably a way for you to download one or make your own).
the best kind to use is one where all of the particles are fully solid and not varying too much in opacity.
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Step Three: Jackson Pollock That Shit!
now's the fun part! make a new layer and start layering the blues with your splatter brush in any order you like. just color vomit all over your canvas and don't worry about getting any of the particles outside of the base!
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go back and re-layer any particular color as many times as you like until you're satisfied.
sometimes, all of this layering can result in loss of the original base color, like you can see here.
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but don't worry! this can be fixed by tossing some white back into the mix.
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once you're happy with that, go through and lightly sprinkle in some black. remember: a little is a lot! keep it subtle.
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Step Four: Layer Effects!
this is where the magic happens! turn your blue splatter layer(s) into a clipping mask!
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ka-boom! looks great, right? well, its about to get even better! go into your layer effects panel and select "Hard Light"
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Step Five: Motion Blur
now, this step is optional depending on whether or not your program has more than one kind of blurring effect, but for the sake of the tutorial we'll pretend that it does.
find the motion blur panel and open it. set the angle to zero.
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(ignore that i had my distance set to 2 here i just needed to have an example screenshot lol)
now crank that shit up!!
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if your static layers had to be separated like in our example, make sure to do the same amount of blurring there as well. depending on your preferences, you can change the level of distance to highlight some kind of feeling. having it at 2 allows the viewer's eyes to rest on the darker colors, but having it at 7 brings out the brighter colors, calling attention to how annoyed he is with me right now.
depending on how you mix the different colors and level of blurring, you can get a lot of different variations in the static's look. feel free to experiment with it!
Step Six: Glow (optional)
unless you're drawing a dark/low-light setting, you can skip this part entirely. again, for the sake of the tutorial, lets pretend its dark!
now, since its supposed to be super dark here, i've selected the base layer for the static and deleted the black from it.
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now for the fun part! make a new layer above the one we just made, then take the lightest blue color and cover the static with it! in the next step, this will become your glow!
i like to use a typical hard round brush and then apply a gaussian blur until i think it looks appropriately blurry, but you can also use your average pressure-opacity airbrush! both have their strengths, which you'll see in the next step!
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for this step it helps to already have some knowledge of how light interacts with objects, but its not required! if you don't have a lot of prior experience, take this as an opportunity to practice! take it from me, making fan art of specific things is a great way to get good at drawing in general.
once we have an appropriate amount of glow and blur, we set the layer mode to Linear Light! your program might not have this layer mode, so try to find a mode that does something similar or is close enough
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here you can see the strengths i mentioned before!
in the areas where i used the solid round brush + gaussian blur, i had a bit more control over how concentrated the light was at the center and how far it could spread, making it look more artificial/computerized.
meanwhile in the airbrushed areas, there's a very different vibe! on the right side where i applied the airbrush harshly in one stroke, it has a sort of cloudy look, but on the left where i applied it in multiple strokes, the varying opacities create a more painted aesthetic, which adds a lot of visual interest!
now we have arrived at the final step of this process! go to the current layer's opacity box and lower that sucker!
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you should raise/lower this meter depending on how dark it is. Keep messing with it until it feels right. for our specific example(and more specifically the gaussian blur areas), a good opacity level is 73% !
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and with that, we're done!
thank you for reading this! i had a fun time putting it together :)
before you go, please know that you don't have to follow every step of this to the letter!! feel free to break away from my methods and do your own experiments! mess with the hue of the static colors, use different brushes for the glow lighting, add variation in your particle sizes - go crazy with it!! half of art is experimentation and i wouldn't even have this process without it! :3
if you end up using this tutorial for Rob art on tumblr, please tag me in it!!! i would be absolutely overjoyed to see whatever you make :D (not a requirement though! either way, i'm very proud to have put this out into the world)
if you need help with any of these steps or the process in general, feel free to reach out in the replies of this post or in my ask box! i'd be happy to help out with whatever you need :3 thank you for reading this and i hope you have a wonderful day!
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witchie-writings · 1 year
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HEY HEY HEY HEY HEYYYYY
ok i wanna do sum short if request are closed please ignore :)
King Ghidorah x human! reader who can hear far away kinda like dolores from encanto? One-shot or HC what ever you prefer 🙃
“Tonight. He wants 5 babies.” -Dolores
More than happy to oblige, Anon! Not a lot of King Ghidorah HCs around, so I suppose I got to support what I can lol. Had to make it short because TUMBLR
Ah, King Ghidorah, my long lost love. The False King, Destroyer of Worlds, Monster Zero, the Death Song of Three Storms… ends up with a human mate. Quite unexpected, very unexpected. The mere thought of Ghidorah wooing a human to become his mate was just absurd to Monarch scientists: who was this person, why did they become Ghidorah’s mate, how did they become Ghidorah’s mate?! All these unanswered questions, and they definitely weren’t going to be able to grab answers from the walking hurricane himself, or more specifically, the heads.
With having a human as his mate, Ghidorah has to be careful, ungodly amounts of careful, but if they possess the unique ability to be able to hear noises from leagues away? Ichi is surprised the human hasn’t gone insane from all of the over stimulants, and is genuinely worried about their health because of this power. 
Ichi is the head that took the longest to warm up to, but he is the head that cares the most about the well-being of his mate. Whenever he could, Ichi would lean down, tenderly nudging his mate with concern practically brimming from his golden gates; his tongue would flick out, grazing over his mate, speaking through his actions as he cannot convey words. If Nii or San, specifically Nii, attempt to do any sort of skit in an attempt to irritate or get a reaction from their shared mate, Ichi would be the one to harshly bite into one of their horns, yanking them up and emitting warning growls from his throat as a vague threat should they continue to pester their S/O. 
God, Ichi would be borderline trying to make as little noise as possible (for a god damn Kaiju) for his S/O’s sake. I imagine with that sort of hearing, you could accidentally burst your eardrums, as to hear that far, you gotta learn to heighten your hearing to travel across that distance; one wrong step, and you could have a ruptured ear. Ichi would piece that together pretty quickly, and just… try to tell his other heads to shut it. Minimal blinking, minimal breathing, minimal everything in general. He just wants his S/O to be comfortable.
Then, there’s Nii. Oh, my sweet lovable Nii. Ever the aggressor and one to cause chaos, he’d be absolutely overbearing to where he’d be causing so much noise in an attempt to help his S/O. He’d blow up at Ichi or San for the smallest of things - they’re being too loud, so he’d attempt to bully them into shutting up, then start a fight with Ichi and that’s a whole clownfest in itself. Nii would be the head that took the second longest to warm up to his new S/O, as he isn’t as highly guarded as Ichi is, but it’s still quite the accomplishment to be able to reign Nii in because of his nature as a whole. 
God, his S/O has him wrapped around their tiny fingers. Would do absolutely anything for them… then get into fights over the heads about it. Through their shared mental connection, he recommends the idea of ear muffs and how they should grab some immediately, right now, and then try to tug the body to the nearest store. He’s trying, he really is, but he doesn’t really realize his actions cause more harm than good… it’s the thoughts that count, right?
San is the easiest to warm up to, due to his quite jolly nature and interest in humans as a whole. He’d find it quite curious about his mate’s hearing abilities, always wondering, what can they hear? Can they hear Godzilla snoring in the ocean? He has to know! So he does bug his S/O more often than not, he doesn’t mean to cause any harm! He’s just a curious noodle, a very curious one indeed.
Once Ichi and Nii explain the situation, he does feel quite guilty. After all, he’d feel as though he’s been contributing to the strain on his S/O, when he really didn’t mean to. He’d try his best to be more quiet, but he does slip up quite often. Please don’t blame him, he’s trying. 
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midnight-vixn · 2 years
Note
You want some thirsts?! Have a random sprinkling of headcanons from the smut fairy.
Satan growls. No moans, no gasps, not much talking. Just variations on growls, usually the deep bass-y rumble deep in his chest as he watches your face. He even growls his praise into your ear.
Asmodeus is an absolute GOD with his fingers and he'll play with you at any chance he gets. Under the table during a lesson? Don't mind him. RAD meeting? Best be quiet, gorgeous~. Movie night under a blanket? You'd better hope Mammon doesn't clock on.
Speaking of Mammon, he gets greedy for your pleasure. He's drawn one orgasm out of you, he wants more. More. MORE. It's like his brain switches off and he just needs you, his sin fully takes over and he just indulges in you until it's sated.
Diavolo loves having you "dressed" in dainty golden chains, jewels and precious gemstones. You're not his queen, you're his goddess, his deity, and he'll worship you the second you ask. He'll gift you with beautifully scented oils, perfumes and lotions that leave his bedsheets with a tiny lingering scent of you, even after they've been washed. Underneath your RAD uniform you just wear these little gold chains and jewellery so expensive it would make Mammon cry. But it's for Diavolo's eyes only.
Solomon is always in control. Whether he's on top or power bottoming. However, he's good at making you think you're in control. He keeps up the façade well until he starts getting close and the "switch" flips and the next thing you know you're pinned under him and he's absolutely feral above you. Smothering your face with kisses and giving bites to your neck as he wills himself to last just that bit longer as he enjoys your tightness around him.
Lucifer loves going down on you, maybe more than Beel, maybe. There's something about just playing with you that drives him insane. Maybe it's the fact you can't stop moaning his name with your fingers threaded into his hair. It's pure lust and passion, no thought going through your mind other than him and his name. That stokes a kind of pride in him that he's not felt in a long time. Knowing that you can think of nothing but him.
I had to physically lay down for a minute after reading all these sldksksk
I’m a firm believer that all the boys growl if you get them worked up enough during sex but Satan growling the most is so fitting!! He has this primal instinct that comes out when he fucks (I think Beel growls just as much)
Yesssss Asmo being willing to play with you/please you literally whenever you ask is such 🤤 the same goes reversed though, he’ll let you touch him whenever you want he has zero shame, though he prefers to be in his room where things can get extra steamy he’ll gladly let you rub his growing erection under the desk in class.
Oh yes yes yessss Mammon is soooo greedy for you!!! For your kiss, your touch, your taste, he constantly needs more!! If you think you’re only fucking for one round with him you’re sorely mistaken
Oh goooood Diavolo showering you in riches, gifting you expensive dainty jewelry to wear, maybe even expensive lingerie to wear under you uniform and only he knows about it. Mmmmm Diavolo who buys you a choker/collar with a little heart charm that has a D engraved on it 😵‍💫🤤 just so everyone knows who you belong to.
Solomon is a switch you’re right say it louder👏🏻 he loves to be under you and watch your fucked out face as he fills you up but will just as quickly flip you over and ram into you like a toy.
Lucifer being so in love with eating you out that if you give him a certain look and spread your legs apart he’s instantly hard. He’s pulling you away to the nearest vacant room and pulling your underwear off so he can worship you with his tongue.
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demeterdefence · 3 months
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Thinking about your "Rachel bashing og greek myths" post, methinks she believed herself to be making greek culture a favor similarly to the author of The Phantom of Manhattan, the unofficial sequel to The Phantom of the Opera
In the preface, the author begins by saying that Phantom, unlike Frankenstein or Dracula, barely made a dent in world culture until Andrew Lloyd Webber came along to make the musical, which he considers the "true" version even tho like...it wouldn't exist without the novel! He bashes Gaston Leroux and basically states that his attempt at writing failed miserably and it's like DUDE, again, the musical and your problematic sequel wouldn't even exist without it, and just because it was bigger in France than in the usa it doesn't mean it had zero impact in culture
But of COURSE unless it's usa-approved then it doesn't count and isn't worth anything *sarcasm*
PHENOMENAL point, FANTASTIC point, absolutely true and correct
i can't be a total dick and say this is an issue solely created and implemented by rachel, because we've seen non-western cultures and religions absolutely whitewashed to hell and back - like, people have been drawing jesus of the bible as white for centuries when he was a middle eastern palestinian jewish man, and good god look what the west has done to the religions of india, china, and japan. but it's the way these kinds of stories drip with a sort of smugness in removing the original culture, in depicting it as backwards and broken.
rachel wants to claim she's making a feminist retelling, but the original myth was already feminist. ancient greece didn't pretend their society was not fiercely male dominated and patriarchal, and hades stealing persephone was absolutely in line with the traditional myths - the twist is that demeter wins. demeter punishes the male gods who stole her daughter, and the ferocity of her rage and grief forces hades and zeus to give in. if persephone hadn't eaten the pomegrante seeds, she wouldn't be in the underworld at all! this is a story that is so clearly a triumph for the mothers and daughters of ancient greece, of many worlds over, because it depicted explicitly that a mother's love was more powerful than even the gods. and rachel pisses all over that.
literally even going beyond that, looking at the society that is olympus and the underworld - all the technology they use, all the innovations they have. who exactly is making these??? where exactly is the material coming from??? you can handwave away most of the inventions by saying it's magic, but we've seen demeter talk about algebra, which was invented in the ninth century by a muslim scholar from persia. in speedrunning to this so called perfect modernized world, rachel actually erases the cultural offerings and developments of dozens of other ancient worlds, and kind of just gives the credit to the underworld, which is run by a slave driver.
persephone constantly bemoans the dullness of the mortal realm, and prefers to literally lounge around doing nothing, when the mortal realm is inventing the olympic games, the democratic forum, FOOTBALL. you have thousands of things to show the gods involved in - largely because the gods were the patrons!!! why do we never see zeus looking over the olympic games??? they happen in his sanctuary!!!
like the disdain rachel has for ancient greece is insane. she can't even bother to research the food typical of the time period, seeing as she writes persephone being looked down on for being vegetarian when vegetables were a key and staple diet of ancient greece. one could argue that a vast majority of ancient greece were vegetarian by general habit. she's baking cheesecake and french desserts and having fast food and carrot cake and maybe - maybe - she'll mention baklava. the ancient greeks are FAMOUS for their art, but we sure wouldn't know that from lore olympus. the only character who even references ancient greek music is apollo, with his lyre, and that's not exactly a ringing endorsement.
and this is not to say that an adaption has to follow the ancient text to a t - that's just not feasible and no one is expected to do so. but there's really something to how rachel does dismiss or ignore the canonical importance of so many of these stories to replace them with a western interpretation. even the therapy speak is grating. in episode 227, when persephone is talking about the concept of virginity, she's absolutely correct in pointing out how that's largely a social construct - but in light of the world she lives in and the world she helps control, the same idea could have been reached through means other than americanized psych talk.
so often, people will look back at the ancient world and think we are morally superior because we do not have the same views, or we have seemingly "developed." that is a view i abhor, because it removes the very act of learning and developing and understanding. rachel really talked big about how removing the incest of ancient greece made the story better, but incidentally, she managed to also take out the feminism, and literally the entire lgbt culture of ancient greece. apollo was even considered the patron of homosexuality! he was called to bless same-sex unions! zeus had DOZENS of male lovers; ares, hephestus, and hermes had known male relationships, and several of the ancient heroes and gods of greek mythology were described in terms we would refer to as transgender in modern times.
if rachel had gone "i'm writing a love story that's originally inspired by the myth of persephone and hades but it's very much modern and removed from the myths" that would be one thing, and i would not be bristling at that; myths have inspired countless stories over the centuries and will continue to do so for centuries to come. the problem is rachel wants to claim a rooting in these myths with zero understanding of how they work or why they work, and absolutely lets her contempt for the ancients shine through in every single aspect of her comic. it's gross and it's petty and she deserves none of the self-appointed "mythology expert" she's given herself.
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briebysabs · 2 months
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I have mixed feelings on how Qian Jin was used in s2. Bc on one hand, he was basically a Shakespearean villain which works with his backstory around plays. Probably a reference to Othello with him killing the wife he thought was cheating on him. His whole thing about “you need evidence to base your claims” and him supporting his points or avoiding the police using that logic. And the irony of it all is that he killed his wife based on assumptions with zero evidence. And it’s great from a tragic standpoint for the twins bc their father had done a similar thing. From one abusive coward to the next it’s a constant cycle. The tradeoff is that it makes him much less interesting. After the reveal of his true intentions, it’s like… you’re just a bitch.
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And yeah you can get into his guilt for killing his unborn child as well. But that’s something he brought onto himself and is insistent on denying the truth.
Which to me is just…idk what to tell you bro.
And if he is a Shakespearean villain, Qian Jin should’ve been killed off. Commit to it y’know cuz he’s in jail doing nothing. Even if he breaks out in s3, LTC is gonna kill him and I don’t think even LX can convince him otherwise. Idk what his purpose to the plot would be? Personally, I would’ve liked if they left his story the way it appeared on the surface. As him simply being a victim of circumstance, slowly going insane from it, so he’s trying to save his wife. Because it could tie perfectly to Lu Guang at the last episode.
And you could argue (and be right) that LTC can serve as the LG comparison. But I think Qian Jin would’ve worked better. So I’m in this position where I get why they wrote him that way, it does work for the story, but it takes away the enjoyment of his character for me. And he is treated as the “final boss” in the last ep (before we meet LX). It makes the s2 finale not as climatic as I wanted it to be. This is really my only main complaint about s2 besides some nitpicks.
Overall I loved link click season 2 though. If you prefer season 1 that’s totally understandable and I do think it is a bit better. However if you thought s2 wasn’t a good season at all I think you’re tripping but that’s just me. Kinda glad I wasn’t there in September for the discourse especially around Lu Guang I would’ve fought some bitches. Btw I did make a thread surrounding the lg time-travelling debate here it is: https://www.tumblr.com/briebysabs/745075324591783936/lu-guang-is-a-hypocrite-and-thats-okay-great
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ruthlesslistener · 9 months
Note
♦️ for Hollow
♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon
-Oohh this is a fun one. Hollow is full of quirks imo, first and foremost being that they are a burrower by nature and will disappear entirely if you ever put them in a bed with enough pillows and blankets for them to nest in (this is made even easier by the fact that I headcanon the beds of the beetle tribes to be cup shaped and lined with soft padding). How does something so tall fit into burrows so easily is anyone's guess, but they manage to fold themselves in there just fine!
Second is that they're a very good visual learner and managed to learn how to read and engineer simply from watching PK do it, though they have zero interest in actually doing any engineering past fixing any appliances that cause problems later on in their life. Reading is a different story, however- once they begin to realize that they're allowed to have autonomy in their life, they start to pick up on it more and develop a preference for what they like to read. That preference is romance novels, and no, quality doesn't count in the slightest. They're more fascinated by the dramatics of it all than the actual romance (though they think the romance is very sweet)
Third quirk is that I think Hollow is just naturally a very quiet person, in pretty much every sense of the word, and that's how they got away with being the Pure Vessel. They're just...still. Their body language is naturally subtle to nothing, they're not at all fond of 'speaking' in any sense of the word, and they generally prefer to just sit in the sidelines and observe the world and all its nuances by default. These are all characteristics that got amplified to unhealthy levels by the Pure Vessel plan, of course, but that's how they got away with seeming pure before they fully grasped the gravity of the situation (that, and the fact that they were paralyzed by overstimulation after being pulled from the dark hellhole of their birth to a blindingly white and relatively safe world for a good long while). Void-speech is more of a stream of shared consciousness detailing physical sensations and visuals and impressions rather than anything close to words, but if they were to have a void-name, it would be The Silent One. Post-ascension, it would be Bringer of Silence- Silence for short. They don't want anyone but their void siblings (and maybe PK) to call them that, however, because its similar to a true-name in that its uncomfortably close to their nature and thus not something they want revealed to the world.
Fourth is that they're hyperempathetic. This one's weird because they really have no reason to have this at all, given that both of their parents have little to no empathy simply bc of their nature- but they do. This pairs badly when you factor in how similar to PK they are in terms of depressive disorders and emotional dysfunction bc they care they care they care so much but they have no outlet for being able to care other than to give the entirety of themselves to, well...everything. What they went through was absolute hell and was a torture that no being should ever experience, and left them with extreme CPTSD, but if they were told that trying again would end with it working the second time around, they'd do it all again in a heartbeat. Hyperempathy + no sense of self-worth because they attribute all of that self-worth to their success of completing the task they believe is their life's purpose is not a good combo for their own good, but it also makes them an absolute nightmare to anything that gets in the way of caring for those they consider their own
Fifth is canon imo and it is that they are stubborn to an extreme. Good fucking luck trying to change their mind because it's not going to work and the more you attempt it the more they dig in their heels. This is a trait that is inherent to the entire Pale Family and yes this drives Hornet absolutely insane because she's so used to being the stubbornest person she knows so dealing with her just as stubborn family makes everything Even Worse
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waveridden · 2 months
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okay I'll bite. what's the deal with the life series. what's the lore. what's your favorite thing about it. I wanna understand the Posts
huge win for the me community let's go. okay. idk your minecraft knowledge level so i am going to explain as though it's zero bc mine was basically zero when i started watching.
so. the life series (also known as 3rd life, bc that's the first season) is a minecraft survival multiplayer series, which essentially means it's a server where you can die. in fact, it is a death game! everyone on the server has three lives; if you die three times, you're out of the series. your goal is to be the last one standing. additionally, when you're down to your last life, you are expected and honor-bound to engage in pvp and ruin your alliances. your goal is Murder.
there are five seasons out right now with different gimmicks, each one has the same core cast with some changes - essentially it's a bunch of friends who will take any excuse to kill each other, but with increasingly weird and complex political factions and interpersonal dynamics. people are out here swearing fealty. there are betrayals. there are team banners. there's a season where they build a complex net of paths in the sky and drop tnt on one another.
it's one of those things where there is some lore/plot and you can take it as seriously or not-seriously as you want! yay! i for one love to go the "let's take this to its logical horrifying conclusion" route but some people are here for the sillies and that's good too. the fanart game is insane, people are making renaissance paintings and stuff.
anyways, this explanation is a mess, so i will go on to reccing povs, because there are ~15 people in each season and they're all posting videos and that can get overwhelming! there's not really a "right" order but when i started, @charaznablescanontoyota gave me the excellent advice of "start with the winner of each season and then whenever you're curious about something watch that next" - if you like that route and don't mind knowing who wins,
er4df444444444444 sorry that's my cat. he's been watching along with me. he has a lot of opinions.
anyways here's the list of winners, the wiki is a pretty good reference to have on hand. HOWEVER. i will also add that everyone has a different style! some people edit things very short, some people do long videos, some people are builders and some are very into the roleplay - i bounced pretty hard off the first pov i watched but switching to someone else worked for me, so in a way having so many options is great bc it means you can shop around, so to speak.
and i will close this out with a few of my personal favorite seasons! just for funsies.
inthelittlewood 3rd life (s1) - probably my personal fave. in which an early game alliance becomes an intensely charged king/knight relationship that they both take WAY too seriously (honorific)
smallishbeans last life (s2) - have you ever wanted to watch someone do a very, very bad job at murdering a lot of people?
pearlescentmoon double life (s3) - in a season where everyone has canonical soulmates, pearl ends up the odd woman out because her soulmate doesn't want to be with her. it is an insane and compelling character arc
ldshadowlady secret life (s5) - diversity win! this woman is so so bad at "what if minecraft were taskmaster"
and as a side note i tend to prefer the tightly edited stuff, so if you know that you Do Not prefer that, i would point you towards ethoslab secret life or grian 3rd life! or tbh still towards pearl double life.
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petorahs · 4 months
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what are your headcanons about Juliana and Florian?
oughhghghg where to begin
Both
-Juliana (Jules for short) and Florian (Flori, Flor, etc) are twins! Juliana is the older one. This is inspired by the fact that... they look so similar in their official art! All the recent protags all do but these two take the cake. It's so funny to me. -they look so similar in fact, that they could be body doubles! but that's totally wrong and unethical they'd never... right? -I like the HC that they're both from Galar (their mom having Skwovet and using a British term early-game, the Galarian pokemon stickers in their room, etc). They're both Paldeans, but were raised there before moving back to their hometown with mom.
-Fun thing about Scarlet/Violet is that they're such huge games that it's totally justifiable to have dual protags doing different things. Because of this, I decided to have Juliana handle the 'battle-heavy' routes like Victory Road while Florian, who is more research-focused (and has main character syndrome) features more in The Hidden Treasure arc. -I can't decide on who really does Starfall Street yet, but I'd like for Path of Legends to be the both of them helping Arven since it's the most plot-heavy and has to do with endgame. -Don't ask how but both Koraidon and Miraidon exist at the same time and the twins are their trainers. -In my recent art of them, you'll notice Juliana and Florian's eyes get all blue/crystal-like! this is an effect of their time in Area Zero/being exposed to that much Terastal energy. just them though, no one else...
Florian
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-additionally, Flo's hair turns from a purply-brown to pink post-game because he's named "Haruto" in Jp, meaning spring. this carries over across all languages! I wanted to evoke a sense of a blossom coming to life over the course of his journey.
-hates battling because his sister will always be better at it than him, so he vastly prefers pokemon catching instead. (Galar's League-focus/prominence made him sickkkk. he was glad to move) -helped Jacq complete the Paldean, Kitakami and BB pokedex because of that. they're tight, the both of them. -his smile never reaches his eyes, early-game. -he is not naturally kind, nor does he see himself as the 'hero' of the story (that was always Juliana, not him), but he fakes being a main character to make people think he's just as good (this is also a byproduct of Galar's culture tbh) -that's why he seems like the more extroverted of the two, but really, he's just as quiet as her behind doors. -tbh even the fact that he has one beauty mark under his eye instead of two like his twin sis bothers him... blud thinks he'll never be enough! -Koraidon's trainer
-after meeting Kieran, Florian tried to be kind from a genuine want instead of to impress people. he wanted to be the 'hero of the story' that Kieran saw him as... and not because he needed to be out of his sister's shadow. Kieran made him want to try. -like the only way I see him winning during BB League wasn't because he was the main character who always wins, but because winning was the only way he could be friends with Kieran again. -his arc will conclude when he learns to be kind and do things out of selflessness :) which is why he takes a Tera Blast during the Indigo Disk's climax, the ultimate act of selflessness. help. sorry man it was for character development...
Juliana
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-The actual main hero of the story. Really insanely strong in battles. like just straight up a beast -Juliana's names mean "youth", so she stays the same, forever a young battle prodigy Florian tries to match (but can't...). Also, youth to me can mean the future, which is why she's the Miraidon trainer! -Another reason why she's Miraidon trainer is because she can't express herself how she wants... she can't emote easily and speaks monotonously, like a robot. -Her arc would conclude when she learns that the people worth keeping in life are the ones that get her even when she doesn't feel "normal" :]]] true treasures. -big eater -read once that having beauty marks under your eyes means you'll have "trouble in love" and tried to scrub hers off... really envies Florian for having just one and thinks Flo's some kind of romance genius. goes to him for love advice one day and it freaks him out (he's having just a complicated time as any teen!!!)
-Heavily inspired by Pokemon Special's take on her. like look at her she's so cool.
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alicent-vi-britannia · 6 months
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One of the many reasons why I prefer Kalulu and consider it the best ship for Lelouch is because of the positive influence that both exert on the other and that the opposite willingly accepts. Something that is fundamental in relationships.
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On Lelouch's side, it's several things. Through Zero, he gives her beliefs based on justice, equality and freedom, he gives her a purpose to fight (I won't say objective so as not to confuse it with the other narrative concept), and he gives her hope for a better world and determination to keep forward. Kallen said that if it weren't for Zero she would still be a terrorist until the day she died.
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On Kallen's side, we have that moment in episode 7 of R2 where she urges him to go back to being Zero. Fanboys criticized Kallen, calling her selfish and only looking out for her own interests. The truth is that Kallen tried to do what Lelouch at the end of the episode did: give him new motivation to keep going and that motivation was to discover a motivation bigger than himself. Kallen is a selfless person. Therefore, she alludes to the Black Knights and the Japanese who placed their faith in Zero to remind Lelouch of the responsibility he has to them and ask them not to fail them. It doesn't quite work out, but her concern for him brings Lelouch out of his depression and he takes him to Ashford Academy where he finds that motivation that transcends him. Also, Kallen saves Lelouch from the drug trail. More points for her.
I find it pertinent and significant that Kallen is the first person to ask Lelouch to make his lies true (only Suzaku has credit for this and it's not fair). Why? Because on Kaminejima Island was where Kallen found out that Zero's entire cause was a farce by Lelouch to cover up his true intentions and reasons, and instead of breaking down, Kallen turned those lies into her own truth. She chooses to be an ally of justice, a believer in equality, and a defender of freedom. I find it admirable that, despite Lelouch's lies and him using her, Kallen isn't affected. She has enough strength to overcome her pain and the damage caused by her. That's what I call resilience.
I can't say the same about the other girls.
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It is true that Lelouch's love, kindness, gentleness, and compassion undermine C.C.'s cynicism, renew her optimism, and bring out her kindness. The problem is that C.C. repays him with dishonesty, disloyalty, abandonment and terrible advices. Don't be fooled. The advices she gives him in the first season are functional for the story, but if you review the human aspect you will see that it is harmful. Recommending that a person with trauma related to loss, who is insanely distrustful of everyone, and who protects themselves behind a mask, be isolated is not exactly a healthy idea. Nor is it appropriate to recommend that a person with post-traumatic stress disorder continue with the war, even at the great risk of developing Complex PTSD. Needless to say, she agreed to his suicidal plan to atone for his sins and that she used him for almost the entire series and never expressed regret. (Seriously, it's better to just see C.C. and Lelouch's relationship as partners in crime before it gets murkier.)
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Shirley's case is quite the opposite. She brings kindness, warmth, compassion, support, and humanity to Lelouch. She even offered him a good lesson about love. In narrative terms, Shirley increased Lelouch's likability towards us, the viewers. Except for that time when Lelouch decided to decimate the Order of Geass for Shirley, she was one of Lelouch's most positive incentives. He, on the other hand, brought her suffering, lies, some brain damage, a mental breakdown and death. I know that he didn't do it deliberately and that Lelouch suffered that pain that brought him to Shirley, however, it doesn't take away that he did it anyway. Shirley would have still been alive, if not for Lelouch. Before you attack Rolo, I remind you that Lelouch manipulated him so that he could more easily use his skills and knowledge to his advantage. Shirley's death was the consequence of using a young man who was a victim of child abuse and without awareness of right and wrong.
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I'm not going to go into detail about Suzaku and Lelouch's entire complicated relationship. I'll just say that I think it could have become a beautiful bromance, if that relationship had grown under better circumstances. I love their dynamic and the treatment and development of their relationship, but I'm not going to ignore the toxic parts and this friendship is.
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Conclusion: although Lelouch and Kallen's relationship has its little problems that need to be worked on, the damage is not serious (it could well be worse). They still have genuinely healthy and valuable moments. The two are a positive presence in each other's lives.
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tapioca-puddingg · 4 months
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One, the Goddess of Diligence: A Drakengard 3 Analysis
WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!
Hey, it's been a while since I've done one of these. I took a break from doing these long analyses in favor of shorter and quicker content just because it's easier on my brain. I apologize to those that I may have kept waiting with this one, but I'm back now.
If you're new to my blog, I post analyses about video game characters that I think are interesting, amongst other things. This is my Seven Deadly Sins/Heavenly Virtues series of Drakengard 3. And do be sure to like, reblog or leave a comment if you enjoy my insane ramblings.
"Facing the people crowding the streets, I gave a wave from atop my steed. This caused them to cheer even louder, and I felt the animal tense beneath me. I am not fond of horses due to their strong odor, but in this case I could sympathize with the beast. We were both being forced to parade our way from the harbor towards the cathedral. I would have preferred to have snuck back after sunset; I wanted to be alone. My mind, exhausted from battle, sorely needed a rest. But I was not allowed to be so selfish. It was my duty as an Intoner to symbolize order and peace having returned to the world, even if that meant being made a spectacle of. And how could the innocent people know that their cries of elation were causing me, with my heightened senses, to feel as if my head were being split in two?"
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One is the second eldest Intoner sister and is the head of the Cathedral City. As the second eldest, she is the leader of the Intoner sisters. She is level-headed, intelligent, and capable. Not to mention the fact that she is well-respected by her younger sisters. Of the Intoner sisters, One is the most interesting in my opinion. She's the only Intoner that becomes self-aware and questions the world around her.
As with the others, One's novella gives us more insight into her thought processes, as well as her struggles and curiosities. She behaves as you'd expect; calm, composed, deliberate, thoughtful, calculated. Every move she makes has an intent and a purpose, and her logic is always sound. As I said a second ago, she’s the only Intoner to question their collective existence; where they came from, why they’re so powerful, etc. Her assessment of her sisters is objective, as she sees the good and the bad in all of them. As such, she does her best to position them for success as leaders in each of their respective lands, and tries to play to their individual strengths. For instance, she tasks Two with governing the Land of Sands in hopes that her optimistic nature could lift the spirits of the citizens, given how hard life in the Land of Sands is.
And yet, One has her own struggles, just like any of us would. Each Intoner deals with a certain bodily aspect that continuously grows at an alarming rate. Two's physical strength/muscles, Three's hair, Four's fingernails, Five's breasts, and One's senses continue to grow far faster than that of a normal human. For One, it is easy for her to become overstimulated due to her heightened sense of smell, hearing, touch, taste, and sight. The taste of food is too intense, the body odor of humans and animals are too strong, and even the feeling of clothes on her body can be uncomfortable. It's the reason why she's always in solitude. Damn, she just like me fr. Anyway, on top of having to shoulder so much responsibility on her own due to Zero's absence, she also is having to battle with heightened senses that hinder her everyday life. That takes a lot of strength.
"A disciple is a tool for battle. But it didn’t feel right using someone else as a weapon. So instead, I created a copy of myself. And since it was a copy… no matter what happened to it, it would always forgive me. Or I would forgive myself, I suppose. I used the Cathedral’s magical energy to infuse my copy with disciple-like powers. More than enough to take on the lords of these lands. Thus, I gained a partner I could rely on. And a way to forgive myself for what I had to do."
Not counting Zero, One was the only Intoner to not be given a disciple. She created Brother One from one of her ribs as both a combat partner and a failsafe in case she died. She also admits in her Prologue that she was lonely, so I'm sure that also may have been a factor in this decision. One is also vastly introspective, always pondering over philosophical or moral dilemmas. She notes the benefits of having a disciple and lists her sisters' main motivators in their lives: sex, honor, cruelty, and romance respectively. But she struggles to answer what it is that she truly desires in this life. In being the primary leader, she's bound by so much responsibility and duty that she doesn't really get to be herself, whatever that may mean. She always has to put the needs of everyone else before herself.
"You pretend to be all grown-up and mature, but you haven’t changed since childhood. We all need some kind of mental support, you know? Even Intoners. Heck, you probably need it MORE than the rest of us." "I suppose there’s some truth to that. Perhaps we’re weaker than we’d like to admit." "Aw, come ON! You’re supposed to get all mad and yell and stuff! I don’t like this pensive you. Quit messing with my head!"
Gabriella, being the boss bitch that she is, calls out One for shouldering too much responsibility on her own. One agrees with this, which, surprisingly, catches Gabriella off guard. What I find really interesting is that she says, "I don't like this pensive you." This implies that One used to respond negatively to Gabriella's brutal honesty but has grown since then.
And speaking of Gabriella, I wanna talk about her for a bit before I move on. Her personality so unique from all the other characters in the game. It feels like if you took a person from the real world and plopped them into a video game. They say that a dragon can see a person's heart, their true nature. And she always lives up to that expectation. The One/Gabriella partnership is almost opposite to the Zero/Mikhail partnership. Mikhail is a literal child and Zero is sort of motherly to him. She softens up to Mikhail more and more as you progress through the other branches. Even though their dynamic is short-lived, Gabriella is like an aunt. She doesn't mince words, but I got the impression that she does care about One at least a little bit. She sees some good in her. So that has me wondering, what the hell happened to her? By the time the main game starts, Gabriella has been replaced by Gabriel, and Zero states that he's a demon dragon whose power has been enhanced to fight off her and Mikhail. She was about to talk about the consequence of doing such a thing, but she trailed off before the line was finished. One of the last things Gabriella says is that she's the boss of her own fate. With her being so headstrong, I can't imagine her going along with being transformed in this way. Perhaps she agreed to do it because she grew to trust One? We may never know this tidbit.
"If you think you’re the only one suffering here, you’re out of your goddamn mind! Two, Three, Four, Five… You gave life to each and every one of them. Then you went and killed them all! What did you expect? Cursing the world then saving the world. You thought you could do everything by yourself? Well, THIS IS WHAT YOU FUCKING GET!"
As for the events of the main game, she is the voice of authority, as usual. By the end of Branch A, she's killed by Zero and is then killed by Two in Branch B. But come Branch C and D is where things get more interesting. By both branches, One is completely self-aware. She knows that the Intoners originate from Zero and that the Flower won't stop until it destroys the world. One has reached the same conclusion as Zero in that the Intoners should not exist, as they pose a major threat to the world. However, this is where they clash. Their goals lie within their names. Zero wants all the Intoners to be killed, including herself. One believes that she herself should be the only surviving Intoner. Maybe that's why the two of them share the same color scheme: they're more similar than they are different.
One hopes that her and Zero are able to understand each other since they both have a mutual understanding of their place in the world. But Zero of course shuts down the idea, calling her an "offshoot." Despite literally fighting for her life, she remained calm for a lot of this fight, but she does break her composure in the above quote. It's about time. She points out the contradictory nature of the situation, the fact that Zero created the Intoners just to destroy them in the end. She's technically not wrong, but we know that it's not the whole truth.
I mentioned One's loneliness earlier, and another wrinkle in this is the fact that she becomes the only sentient Intoner. Throughout the entire main story, she's aware of the aforementioned info about their link to the Flower, but she keeps it to herself. Maybe she thinks that her sisters wouldn't understand. And during the later branches, when the other Intoners start to become driven insane by the Flower's influence, she's the only one to remain sane. By sheer willpower alone! She is killed in all branches, never getting to bring peace to this world the way she envisioned. I start to feel bad for her when I think about it like this.
Because I gave her the title of the Goddess of Diligence, this would make her a foil to Three, as diligence and sloth are opposites. Both women have proven to be highly intelligent and curious. The difference being the way they wield their knowledge, right? Three constantly uses her intelligence for her own self-indulgence, without a thought or care of the people she's victimized. One, whether you agree with her actions or not, does what she believes is the right thing for the greater good of humanity.
Her last appearance is in the Final Song. Because she is an odd number, her dance is asymmetrical. One is usually so composed, and yet here she is, thrashing and flailing about. She's not at all timed to the music, nor is there a direction. Her movements are more controlled than Three's, for instance. But not as controlled as the others. Almost seems as if she's fighting. Fighting for control of her fate? Fighting for the peace that she envisioned? Perhaps fighting for her own autonomy.
TLDR: One was an intelligent, capable leader that only sought to do the right thing. Because Zero had no intention of being a leader, she was given a mountain of responsibilities to bear alone, until she created Brother One. She was also someone that dealt with her share of loneliness, as well as overwhelming sensory issues. She died by Zero's hand and shared the same fate as her other sisters, never getting to enact the peace that she wanted.
AFTERTHOUGHT:
Phew! I changed things up this time around bc I felt that it flowed better this way. If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading and I do hope you enjoyed it. And I do apologize again for those that had to wait such a long time for this. I promise that I never forgot about these analyses, I just put them off bc they require a lot of brain power. Anyways tho, that's the post. Dunno when I'll start doing Zero's, but it'll probably be in two or three parts. Thanks again, until the next post!
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