#just endlessly fascinated by people and their brains

[annamelia-art]

In the part of England where I grew up, there is a little regional idiom that is "shy bairns get nowt" which means "children who don't ask, don't get" and I'm just wondering is there anything similar where you grew up? A phrase that means 'if you don't ask, you don't get', and how does it go? What is it? How do people say it? Because the phrase that we use is one that I've never had to explain to anyone that grew up local to me.

It's sort of the reverse of the idiom "those who ask shall receive". Or I guess that's not an idiom, that's more of a Christian thing.

I have to wonder which came first and now I'm just curious. So tell me, do you have a phrase?

[uncanny-tranny]

When I find it hard to do certain things, I like to pretend I am a neanderthal living in a cave with my clan, and I must do The Thing in order to survive.

So, when I'm doing cardio at the gym, I'm actually chasing and tracking a mammoth, and when I need to cook, well, I'm not cooking on a stove top, I am hurdled over the first fire and watching the fat of our kill drip down onto the burning wood. And when I find it hard to crochet, I pretend that the first winter storm is coming and our clan needs me to make blankets to hurdle under and that I must contribute.

I hope whatever you do to do The Things will help. It is a uniquely personable trait to motivate yourself through pretend and stories. That's what makes this life interesting - that's what makes you feel larger than yourself 💛

[laurasbailey]

something about kty being around my age and likely being an introverted nerdy ex-fandom girly who has worked her ass off in multiple artistic pursuits to get where she is makes me emotional actually

[orcelito]

Me realizing the fryer's dispenser nozzle was clogged while I was showing an employee how to rinse the fryer (with oil). Just kinda pausing. Sighing. Grabbing a hot glove and a thin long spoon and just telling the employee, "Don't Replicate This" before sticking the end of the spoon up the Not Empty fryer's open nozzle to dislodge whatever was stuck in there

It worked! Pretty easily, too. Didn't even get hurt. But that moment of being like "What I'm about to do is objectively kind of stupid, & I'm taking some precautions to try to avoid injury, but there's still a risk to this that I'm willing to accept for myself but I do not want you to put yourself at risk like I am"

Aka. My general existence at work, I guess

[talentforlying]

not my synopsized explanation of the tree ass tattoo breaching containment, of all things. godspeed, my little friend.

[jlf23tumble]

“just don't know what'll be that surprising but i know that i won't be there and yet i'll still find out all about it” is a FANTASTIC approach! people seem to be genuinely anxious about this which makes sad because i know fomo is a real thing and it is not fun to feel. so if i could offer any advice i’d say make some plans with family or friends (or with yourself!) to do something fun, delete the tumblr/twitter/instagram apps of your phone for the day, or at least until the concert is over, then you can log back in afterwards and all the content will be right there ready for you to consume minus the often anxiety inducing speculation of when/how/what is gonna happen!

Fomo is definitely a thing, but there's also a lot of breathless speculation about all KINDS of shit that's just out there, churning and ramping up, so it ends up being its own messy circle jerk of annoyance. But yeah! "Missing it" is a misnomer, you'll still get to see it, probably hundreds of times and from better angles than you would in person (and literally thousands of dollars cheaper)!

[please-picturemeintheweeds]

Setlist discourse confuses me in the exact same way that song/album ranking discourse confuses me. Hope this helps!

[yourheart-inmyhands]

My brain is acting up again 😭

Yan! Diluc, Zhongli (I swear I love this man) and Dottore having a conversation with their darling and out of nowhere they spill facts about how to hide a body or make it decompose faster.

If they ask how they know they just chuckle and continue their conversation.

They got it from Reddit fr 💀

- Weird anon ✨

ah i am also obsessed with death and decomposition, with a good mix of anatomy, though i try to avoid just finding random facts, i buy textbooks and research books about the topics to further my knowledge on the subjects :3c

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including obsessive behaviors, mentions of violence, lots of talk about death and facts about death, creepy behavior, as well as other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Diluc:

He finds it amusing at first, not really commenting on it and simply letting it be. Soon enough though he starts sharing facts of his own, making minor corrections or suggestions to the ones you bring up. Sometimes he even adds on to what you already have, changing the course of the conversation momentarily.

It’s not talked about often but Diluc is no longer allowed in Snezhnaya for a reason, he’s seen more than his fair share of bloodshed and has no problem offering you better suggestions than what you previously thought to be best. 

He makes a little game out of it, even going as far as to offer to test your claims. Diluc doesn’t see the harm in it, if anything he’s merely indulging in your interests, bonding with you over it. Strange as it is, he thinks it’s fun.

“Did you know the main reason why corpses smell so bad is because when people die, their bladder empties out?” Diluc chuckles at your question, the conversation shifting from possible dinner options to that of death was nothing new to him, yet it never failed to amuse him. “I did. Did you know it’s because when you die every muscle in your body relaxes, which means anything in your bowels is emptied out, no longer held back?” A bit of a tangent never hurts, especially not when it comes to a topic you seem so sporadically fascinated with. Diluc could sit here and watch you talk about this endlessly, the way your face suddenly lights up as you blurt out a random, off-topic fact. It was like seeing a kid walk into a candy store.

Zhongli:

Zhongli takes it a bit too seriously, often correcting you on common misconceptions or myths. He’s still lighthearted about it, but he doesn’t want his beloved darling to be in the wrong about this kind of thing.

He’d hate to see your spirit crushed by someone else, their offense to the sudden topic change springing up as a rebuttal. He’s simply protecting you this way, making sure that no one can challenge anything you say.

All his knowledge doesn’t come from nowhere though, so do keep that in mind should you ever try to challenge him on anything. Not only has he lived far longer than you, but he and his spear have seen, and done, many things

“Zhongli! Did you know that after death, your hair and fingers still grow for a short period of time?” Pausing mid-explanation, Zhongli processes what you said before smiling fondly at you. “No, my gem, they do not. It is actually the skin shrinking back from loss of moisture. That movement of the skin gives the appearance of the nails and hair growing.” Zhongli doesn’t falter even the slightest in his correction, merely stating it as if it were common knowledge, which it ought to be. This is a fairly common occurrence, with your little interruptions being met with either encouragement from Zhongli, or simply corrections.

Dottore:

He’s probably the worst to bring this up around as he likes to make a competition out of it, going back and forth about gruesome facts until one or the other caves.

Not only has Dottore learned a lot about death, but he’s been responsible for just as many. His knowledge far extends past the random facts you collect.

It’s not surprising that Dottore knows more than you, he never holds it against you though. Every time he wins a little bit of the banter between the two of you he sees it as a win for both of you. You get more facts and he gets to assert his position of higher power over you.

“Rigor mortis occurs 6-12 hours after a death but can last 18-36 hours before the body returns to being soft and floppy.” Dottore doesn’t even falter as you shift the conversation, easily following your lead. “Suffocation is more than just a painful way to die. Oftentimes victims of suffocations will try to free or save themselves to no avail as their limbs will cease function, this is because their brain is trying to preserve oxygen which leads to them being unable to free themself and dying.” The smile on his face is only a few inches wider than normal, his eyes twinkling with the same challenging shine that always comes through when you bring up death. If you weren’t well aware of his affections for you, you’d almost believe he loved talking about death more than he loved you.

[redjademilktea]

Last night's episode of 4 Sided Dive was absolutely wonderful in terms of the amount of insight and perspective we got. Not only the Crown Keepers interlude, but also for campaign 3's themes as a whole.

Specifically what fascinated me though, was the incredible analogy Aimee drew between the Ruidian culture and colonial influence on indigenous/colonized spaces in real life (around the 1h32m mark for reference). It was amazing question to ask and I'll love Aimee endlessly for it because it touches on am interesting parallel between the discourse surrounding the Exandiran gods and what they thematically can represent to us as an audience.

Before I dive into my thoughts, I want to preface this by saying this is my specific perspective as a queer woman of color and daughter of a refugee. While my year-5-in-a-PhD-program brain may just be over analyzing this too much, what Aimee brought up just deeply resonated with me in a way that I don't really see talked about in discussions around the themes of campaign 3. Additionally, the ideas I'll be talking about borrow heavily from Christine Taitano DeLisle's Placental Politics: CHamoru Women, White Womanhood, and Indigeneity under U.S. Colonialism in Guam (2023). Its an incredible piece on indigenous knowledge production and political action that importantly looks to decenter colonial perspectives and history (and more importantly recenter indigenous histories, knowledge, and perspectives in a way that allows us to dislodge the idea that colonialism is something that is immutable and inevitable.)

To quickly summarize Aimee's point/follow up question, she pointed out that the way Ruidians have engaged with, repurposed, and were resentful towards Exandrian cultures mirrors some of the real life experiences of colonized/marginalized communities in relation to colonialism. It was such a powerful comparison to make because in a lot of ways, the struggle of the Ruidian people over the course of the campaign along with the looming question about the gods and whether or not to save them is (intentional or not) deeply resonant with the idea of colonialism and the ways it is deeply ingrained in the even mundane aspects of our life.

In a lot of ways, the Exandrian pantheon can be seen as a colonial force. One that came in and displaced a preexisting order of things and entrenched itself in the new way of being it established. Ashton and Laudna have repeatedly pointed this out throughout the campaign. There was life and existence before the gods. The gods are merely a different mode of being, not the only and inevitable mode of being. Life, society, and being can and did exist without them.

And its important to recognize that aspect of the gods, because it helps us understand their motivations that much better. Aabria in her description of what Opal saw in the Spider Queen as she tried to take Opal as her champion was poignant. Opal did not see an omniscient, unknowable entity. She saw a woman. A woman who was frustrated, angry, and most importantly frightened. They keep Predathos chained away not to protect life on Exandria nor because they feel a moral obligation to do so. They are doing so because they are afraid. Their mortality is at stake. And, as Aabria keenly pointed out, their pride is as well. Every action, every move is out of self preservation. An attempt to save themselves because Predathos demonstrate that not even the gods are a permanent thing.

You'll find (as Anne Stoler writes about frequently) that colonial systems are much the same. They are vehemently intent on self preservation. Any action they undertake and any narrative they create about themselves is solely done to preserve the way things are currently. And that includes narratives that the way things are currently is somehow inevitable. That things were always coming to this moment. Often, this is done at the expense of framing other modes of being as somehow antithetical to the way things are now. That it needs to be this way. And that this way is right and forever.

To me, its important to recognize these parallels. While Ruidians may engage with, adapt, and innovate off of Exandrian ideas, culture, and art, it is only because - as Aimee aptly phrased it - Exandrian culture as a direct result of the gods actions has "sucked all the air out" everything. What is there to engage with, if not the looming orb in the sky that has shaped every aspect of their existence?

It really brings the campaign-wide question of "should we save the gods?" into new light, at least in my opinion. Because its suddenly not about "saving the gods in a morally righteous act to preserve all life." It becomes a layered and complicated network of issues that makes the answer to that question incredibly difficult to answer. Is preserving the status quo because its how things operate now worth it at the expense of the suffering of others? What would saving the gods and the Ruidians look like? Is it even possible to save both? What changes to how things operate would be a result of that? How would those changes be handled?

I bring this up because there is a tendency in some discourse that I've seen to frame questioning the validity of saving the gods as inherently the "wrong" choice to make. When instead, when you see the cast struggling over the question, its because the answer is not straight forward. The gods are not necessary for life. They never were. They just are necessary for life the way things are now. And the question of what disrupting that means is such a fascinating one to engage with.

[blackopals-world]

The thoughts about Jester!Yuu have just not stopped in the literal 7 days since you posted!

Can you IMAGINE the other dorms finding out that Yuu is a Jester, but only for Heartslaybul?

Vil would be envious as could be! He is practically the successor to the Beautiful Queen, but Yuu chose to be part of Riddle's court instead? Rook adored the beauty of performance regardless of the genre, but he would like to see Yuu in Pomefiore colors... Epel just thinks that the costume looks uncomfortable.

Leona doesn't give a damn beyond admiring the athleticism required, but Ruggie is eager to learn a few slight of hand tricks. Jack is just baffled by the costumes. Layers and colors and patterns all over, and the grease paint makeup? Not for him, thanks!

Kalim would love to have Yuu perform at a party or fifteen! Jamil just likes that Yuu can get away with mocking people to their faces, something he's almost envious of.

Azul, of course, sees profit! Every chance to customize costumes, ticket and food sales for a performance- he's already imagining ways to get a contract, but Jester Yuu is more clever than he thinks. The twins are fascinated, of course! You dress in a costume and get to do whatever you want, and even mock Riddle to his face without rebuke.

Idia thinks of Yuu like a video game character come to life! Always performing silly dances and making clever quips, often with some variation of their Jester gear and makeup, like extra costumes you can buy as DLC. Not to mention how Yuu can say and do practically anything in Heartslaybulwithout punishment. Ortho loves how colorful and cheerful Yuu is! He almost wants to ask big brother to make him a jester body so he can learn from them.

Diasomnia is a bit split. Sebek thinks Yuu's behavior is disgracefully inappropriate, and so disrespectful. Lilia considers Yuu a wonder! That Riddle child was too stiff, and Lilia remembers many court jesters with great fondness. Silver finds Yuu entertaining, but also tiring at times, and is almost wary of how perceptive they are... Malleus adores Yuu. Never afraid of him, always willing to speak your mind and treat him like any other. Fun and bright and endlessly energetic. Truly, if you grow bored of Rosehearts, then he would be more than happy to have you become the Jester of the Draconia family.

(Forgive me if this is too long, but I've been brain rotting about Jester Yuu for a week, lol)

Yes to all of this. I haven't finished my drafts due to lack of art (also I'm waiting for my new digital art pad to arrive)

Jester!Yuu is just a silly little fool. With bells and ribbons on their arms and legs.

Unfortunately due to the nature of being a court jester they can't just leave their court. It's in the name. Yuu can leave if they are sent to another court by the "Queen or King" though this is temporary.

Most of Yuu outfits are made to suit Riddle's court with hearts, clovers, diamonds, and spades decorating them. Most of their acts revolve around acts of tomfoolery and disregard for rules. Like pretending to be the queen of hearts and making silly demands and making things "disappear"

No matter what Riddle says getting him to give up his jester is more just difficult. You wouldn't either. If you had someone whose job is to make you smile and laugh you wouldn't let them go.

The only way to convince him would be to trick him or just kidnap Yuu.

Don't worry they don't mind. Do it. In fact, they like it. Don't ask them, just do it.

You don't have to force them to perform either.

Is it a bit twisted to want your very own jester to dance and sing for you? To be your little doll who dresses up in your image. To have them in your court where their smile and laughter is also yours.

Maybe, but look at what school this is. Seems fine and they don't care.

Wether its juggling, acrobatics, jokes, dancing, singing or even acting they can do it all.

There is also the weird underlying attractiveness of the jester. Maybe it was provocative and elaborate outfits. Maybe it was unique makeup that made their face like the most delicate porcelain.

It doesn't matter they like the attention and aren't above lounging on your lap just show how invincible they were.

You wouldn't hurt them. They are just a silly little clown. You wouldn't fight a silly willy little clown, would you? For shame.

[void-and-virtue]

Neil as a team captain is positively delightful, because making him captain is both absolutely insane and absolutely brilliant. It capitalizes on the passive effect of having one (1) Neil Josten (god knows the world couldn’t handle if there were more of him) on the team in the most efficient way. Like. I’m 90% sure that after spending some time around him on the same team, most people will look up to him completely awestruck for how much he has impacted their lives, but that’s just not what is actually happening here. I feel like what’s going on is this:

Neil is a terribly amazing choice for team captain entirely because Neil is a meddlesome little asshole who will forcibly fix all of his teammates’ personal problems and improve their entire lives for literally no other reason than that he needs them to be able to focus on fucking ball so he can win at sports. It’s not even that he genuinely cares about people and their well-being (apart from his original foxes). He just gets pissed when things aren’t working properly because it makes Exy annoying when the lineup can’t communicate. Exy isn’t supposed to be annoying. Exy is life. He’d meddle whether he is captain or not, but by making him captain, he has so much more official executive power at his hands. It’s like people are explicitly asking for him to do his worst. So, fueled by his own competitiveness and love for the sport, off he goes.

Neil is just as bad as Kevin when it comes to his Exy obsession. The major difference between them is that Kevin is endlessly tactical and he runs Exy with a focus on a technical and physical level entirely, whereas Neil’s approach is to look beyond a lack of practice and basically psychoanalyzing people on why they are not doing 110% for Exy. Kevin says “let’s run this drill 500 times, then we will inevitably be better”. Meanwhile Neil is scheming how to coerce and bribe people into life-changing decisions and long-needed healing, entirely because he wants to optimize playing a sport. Exy is a team sport, which is why this is the most logical approach his little Exy brain comes up with rather than minding his own fucking business. He looks at the team and is like “is anyone gonna whip this into shape? No?? I’ll fucking do it then cowards” and goes and does exactly that. It’s like he’s fixing the equipment so he can play.

I don’t think anyone except for Andrew is really aware that Neil really isn’t doing this out of the innate goodness of his heart, but because his personal brand of practicality involves the most convoluted and creative kind of scheming. I feel like Neil is a lot more selfish than people give him credit for. Sure, there’s people he cares deeply and unconditionally for, but that’s really not everyone. It’s fascinating to watch, especially because it’s not like he ever hides that he doesn’t particularly care, but people kinda assume he does, because why else would he put in this much effort?

Exy. The answer is Exy.

[demonic-dorito]

Kirkwall in itself is a story worth thinking about for years. Just the current political landscape and culture and what’s it’s like day to day must be fascinating but then when you consider its history as a MAJOR slave city that was set free only to keep all the iconography, plus how much blood magic was practiced in its hidden halls… that’s a story within a story. And if THAT wasn’t enough to keep Kirkwall rotating like a golden rotisserie chicken in your brain for years, then you get the likelihood that this city is the place wherein mages went to the makers throne and corrupted the Golden City, turning it into the Black City??? Huh??? The parallels that one would naturally make between Kirkwall and the Black City because of it (and ironically between Kirkwall and the Golden City, too)… and then you have the one chantry in the city in Hightown, as if The Maker was too high for poor folk to reach, and Darktown, where everything is dirty and sick and it’s supposed to be every man for himself save a single shining light wherein a cursed apostate, what the chantry tells you to hate and fear, is the only one reaching out to help, and does so without expecting anything in return.

Seriously though, all the damn stairs means that unless you’re able bodied and have hours upon hours to spare (unlikely when you’re desperate for work), you likely can’t make it to the chantry to attend services regularly. I wonder if the people in Lowtown feel as though as surely as he abandoned the Golden City, he abandoned them, too. And THEN you have Kirkwall being turned into what is essentially a police state with Templars, the supposed sword of Andraste, making life worse for a lot of people. Honestly even if Anders never came to Kirkwall, there probably would’ve ended up being a rebellion for something anyways.

The city itself is a living, breathing entity. I don’t think I’ve ever encountered a city as… charactered??? as Kirkwall in any other work of fiction. It’s endlessly fascinating.

Please tell me any headcanons or opinions or observations you have on literally any aspect of Kirkwall. Whether you say it on this post or in tags or in my dms or send me an anon message I don’t care.

[sgojoenthusiast]

ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ KINKTOBER 2023 ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

➸ DAY NINE: FOR ME?

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summary: you had always had this strange fascination with Armin - an obsession surrounded by dark daydreams and violent fantasies that confused you endlessly. who would have thought you and Armin had more in common that you thought?

CW: fem reader, reader & armin are a bit psychotic, depictions of murder and violence, graphic, smut, knife play, blood, finger sucking, halloween party, costumes but make up your own bc whatever i choose will be wrong lol, degrading, 'slut', face slapping/ pussy slapping.

word count: 5.5k

likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

masterlist.

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To everyone else, you were an easy-going and friendly soul - one incapable of harbouring any sort of sin. Not to Armin, though. He could see right through you and right into the dark depths of your mind even if you believed to be obsessing in silence.

It’d be hard to believe that your mind circled around the thoughts of Armin through your polite laughs and friendly nature - especially considering the kinds of thoughts you were having.

His hands wrapped around your throat. His knife tracing down your skin. His teeth marking and biting you. Sometimes, it’d be your hand, your knife and your teeth. However, most of the time it was Armin. These thoughts never really bothered you but you never even dreamed about experimenting or vocalising your thoughts.

But, fuck, did you think about him a lot.

You should have felt guilty considering the kind and innocent type Armin is. He wouldn’t hurt a fly, let alone you.

…Right?

Armin was well liked by everyone despite his awkwardness and introverted characteristics. Therefore, he couldn’t possibly have such vile thoughts about you. You and Armin were more similar than you had initially thought. Infact, despite a few common interests and mutual friends you thought of yourself as quite different from him.

Armin was a pure and thoughtful soul whilst you only pretended to be so - or so you thought.

If only you had known the kind of disgusting places his mind would wander to when his eyes were locked on yours and you were too deep in conversation to notice.

Due to your obliviousness, you never saw the way his fists would clench when he saw you with another man or how he'd instinctively lean towards any sharp item without even thinking about what he was doing, only being snapped out of his murderous daze when you flash him a sweet smile and call out his name.

The two of you shared a lot more in common than you thought and Armin was determined to show you the truth no matter how difficult it was proving to be. He didn't want to scare you off, but he also had no idea where the line was. Therefore, he couldn't just approach you and admit everything so suddenly or lose himself to the wicked side of his brain and kill someone for so much as touching you (and let you know about it because, truthfully, the three guys who have gone missing these past few months haven't been a simple slip of the finger - he had wanted to tell you what he had done for you but he too fell for the false innocence behind your gentle features which made it harder for him).

That was the main difference between the two of you. Armin didn’t just have thoughts of you laying naked beneath him whilst he marked and teased you. Often, his mind was swarmed with thoughts of blood and murder - wanting to kill people just for the hell of it.

It was getting increasingly more difficult to bottle it all up, though. He was certain his friends wouldn't be necessarily supportive if he told them he often dreamed of the blood of others coating his hands or taking a blade and tracing over every feature on your body with it. Whilst he was a slight psychopath, he wasn't an idiot.

The only person who would understand was you, but he wasn't positive to what extent.

Thats why, he watched silently as some random horny stranger had approached you thinking you'd easily slip into his sheets. You didn't push him away and you hid your annoyance fairly well, despite a few curt responses and a lack of eye contact.

The two of you were at Eren's house for a halloween party. Armin was never really a part person and on the inside, you weren't either. You would typically accept every invitation to come off as kind.

Armin's eyes were filled with anger as he watched the two of you, and when the drunken stranger began to leave feathered touches on your skin - he almost lost it.

He was milliseconds away from ripping the two of you apart before a body cut through his path and snapped him out of commiting a horrible mistake.

He couldn't help but be pissed off that Jean was blocking him and talking to him about some shit he didn't even really care about but he was also quite thankful he had a minute to collect himself and his thoughts.

Moving his head around Jean in order to glance over at you, he could see a visible amount of uncomfort plastered on your face from the man's touching which had grown more prominent since he last saw you. You politely said something inaudible to him and backed up in an almost hidden disgust when he leaned forward to whisper something in your ear, touching your arm one last time before heading off somewhere.

Armin gave Jean a half-ass reply to his unknown question, to which Jean gave him a confused and annoyed look when understanding Armin wasn't listening as his attention had been elsewhere. Scoffing, he walked off, and Armin began making his way back over to you.

Clearing his throat to make his presence known, he smiled at you and noticed how you immediately perked up when you noticed him. "Are you okay? I saw that guy with you, he looked like he was bothering you a bit."

"You saw that? Yeah... I told him I'd meet him in the woods behind the house but, obviously, I'm not gonna go." You let out a humourless laugh to drown out some of the awkwardness. "I'm okay though. How about you Armin, are you okay? Are you enjoying the party?"

He had stopped listening to you.

Now, all he could think of was how that fucker was in the woods, alone, waiting for a girl who wont be showing up. 

“Armin?” You waved a hand in front of his face to drag him away from his thoughts. “Are you okay? Do you need to go home?”

He looked at you confused before he had realised that he had been ignoring you for a few minutes.

Simply, he shook his head and offered you a polite smile, before making up some bullshit excuse of needing some water before heading to the kitchen. He was too in his head to notice the sceptical look in your eyes or the way there was a soft pair of footsteps that followed him as he subtly took a knife from a kitchen drawer and hid it in his jacket as he headed towards the backdoor.

He figured the guy couldn’t have gone too far as he was drunk and waiting for someone. Outside was surprisingly empty for halloween. He had assumed a few more people would be out here but there were just about five people minding their own business, not paying attention to the train of people wandering into the forest or the awaiting crime scene about to come. 

You wandered quite a few paces behind Armin, acting careful in order to not get caught, however you could have been breathing down his neck and he wouldn’t have noticed through his blind rage.

He was following the sound of whistling, and every so often you could hear the sound of someone laughing and talking to themself - the voice you recognised to be the guy from earlier. He was clearly impressed with himself for thinking he’d managed to pull you. Armin was less impressed, however.

At the sound of someone approaching him, the guy turned around with a grin on his face expecting it to be you - only to be met with Armin’s blank stare and a knife gripped tightly in his hand.

Clearly confused, the stranger let out a nervous laugh as his eyes narrowed. Armin just kept walking towards him, consistent in his purposeful pace before he grabbed the guy by his throat and pushed him against one of the many trees. He slowly dragged the knife up his arm whilst the guy sputtered out panicked cries for help.

“W-what the fuck, dude?!” He shouted, his arms flailing to push Armin off who was seemingly stronger than he looked - which surprised both you and the guy fighting for his life.

You hid behind a tree watching the scene unfold - you should have gone to help. You had never had thoughts of other people dying, that's never something you wanted. But for whatever reason, you couldn’t help willingly watch as the knife in Armin’s hand pressed deeper and deeper into the flesh of the random stranger. You weren’t even thinking of stopping him - yet you really should have done.

Armin’s knife was merciless. He stabbed repeatedly - over and over and over again but you didn’t even bat an eyelash at the sight. Not when the blood of the man was staining Armin’s shirt and hands or when he choked out blood and looked up to meet your eyes - pleading you to come and save him. The only thing that annoyed you was that he probably thought you were there for him.

Armin was breathing heavily as he let the dead body fall to the ground - mouth hung open and eyes staring creepily out into the open as though his soul had yet to leave. He sighed frustratedly as though him killing someone had been a massive inconvenience to him - like he didn’t have a choice.

You hadn’t even noticed you were gradually inching closer to Armin until he started to turn around in your direction, your feet carrying you forward without your mind’s permission.

Quickly, and rather stupidly, you looked down, hoping he wouldn’t recognise you - or see you for that matter. He did have a knife in his hand, afterall.

Armin called your name and you immediately looked up and cursed yourself internally. His eyes were wide and crazed, his hand tapping his leg over and over as he kept his eyes locked on yours.

His mind was reeling - it had been since he caught sight of you watching him brutally murder a man for simply hitting on you.

Were you annoyed? Scared? Did you hate him? Did you at least appreciate the gesture or find what he considered to be romantic elements within it? Were you going to call the police and turn him in? 

Was he going to have to kill you so that you didn’t?

He couldn’t do that. Armin found himself caring about very little these days but you were the exception. You were all he thought and cared about and he would do everything to keep you alive - he simply couldn’t be the reason you were to die.

Your face was so expressionless that he couldn’t tell whether you didn’t care or if he had simply traumatised you.

His lips parted and then closed a few times, he was trying to justify what he had done but if there were any part of you that was at least the littlest bit sane, you wouldn’t hear it.

“You have blood on your clothes.” You stated.

Well, there was his answer.

Without another second of hesitation, Armin spoke up. “I did this for you.”

Slightly surprised, your lips parted. You supposed it was obvious, but you had no idea Armin would do something like that for you.

Your heart fluttered, and you became washed over with the feeling of butterflies dancing dangerously around in your stomach as your eyes morphed into hearts and you tilted your head up at him in slight disbelief that he could ever do something so… kind - and all for you.

“For me?” You muttered, your voice dripping with adoration.

He hesitantly stepped closer to you, not wanting to push any boundaries but desperate to know where you stand. You didn’t move or even flinch, making Armin’s lips twitch and start to form a smile.

“I knew you weren’t who you said you were.”

At this, you stepped away from him, shooting him a confused glance at his now seemingly malicious tone. 

Armin’s breathing was erratic, his eyes looked like they were about to bulge out of his head and his words weren’t making any sense causing you to become concerned and slightly scared in case he was now planning on doing something to you.

“What do you mean?” You replied, your voice the same forced tone of gentleness in an attempt to try and get him to calm down a bit.

"Please." Armin scoffed, rolling his eyes at you. "No one's as sweet and as kind as you pretend to be. Only an idiot couldn't notice it's all an act."

You tilted your head at him and slowly started to bring your defences back down.

Now, his eyes had narrowed and his face looked slightly less crazed and more bothered than anything else.

"Oh yeah? Then what does that make you, hm? People see you as just as kind as I am, do they not? So what kind of darkness is hidden beneath the many layers of your mind, Armin, if no one can possibly be that kind?"

In that moment, every inch of progress was erased. He'd been trying for so long to ease you into his world - a world of dead bodies and rough sex, all for every ounce of progress to be erased by his uncontrollable mouth.

"My mind is full of you. Full of so many images of you beneath me, moaning and bloodied. In my mind, you're as obsessed with me as I am with you."

Sighing, you were overcome with a sensation of relief. How long had he felt the same? How hadn’t you noticed but he had?

Biting your lip, you took a few steps closer to him.

There was blood splattered on his face and all over his clothes and hands, yet despite that, you reached over to move the hair out of his face and run your hand down his red-stained cheek carefully. 

You pressed a kiss on his soft lips and he eagerly returned it, one of his bloodied hands staining the skin on your hips as he pulled you in closer.

“I want you to meet me back at my house. I’ll be a while, but I want you to wait for me. Can you do that?” His voice was steady yet quiet. It was more of a demand, something he was expecting you to do without complaints, rather than a question. So, you nodded obediently - to which he smiled and ushered you along.

ﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*

Armin had given you his keys, so you let yourself in and settled down on his bed, waiting patiently for him to arrive just like he asked.

He was gone for hours, and it was well into the early moment when you were awoken from a reluctant nap by the sound of the front door opening. Lifting yourself up from your lying position, you watched the door to his bedroom in anticipation for it to open.

When it did, you saw that Armin was now no longer covered in blood and was now in fresh, blood-free clothes. 

It had been fairly easy to walk around covered in the blood of someone else at a halloween party without people batting an eye - he had asked Eren to take a shower in one of the bathrooms and borrow a change of clothes after telling him someone had dumped fake blood on him as a joke. It was a poor excuse, but who would think any different when it was Armin? Nobody would so much as think twice at something he had said. 

He hadn’t had an excuse for the dirt that he was covered in, but somehow nobody had paid any attention to it. Again, it was a halloween party.

He smiled at the sight of you and walked over to the side of the bed where you were sitting. Kneeling down, his hands ran over the skin off your thighs. You were still wearing the costume you had put on for the halloween party and it was driving Armin insane. 

You looked incredible, as always, but something about you in a skirt and giving him such easy access was throwing him off balance and making him lose control. 

Armin’s eyes ran all over your body, relishing in every inch that he could see as his hands ran up and down your thighs before moving to your hips and picked you up with ease - moving you to the centre of the bed.

He towered over you as you lay down and stared straight up into his eyes.

Eyes that were so empty yet so full.

Void of any sympathy or guilt, yet full of lust and obsession.

Armin reached over to his bedside table, sliding open the drawer and pulling something out. From the sound of the steel dragging against the wood, you had a fairly good idea of what it was that he had pulled out. 

The blade ran across your jaw, sending cool shivers throughout your entire body as you closed your eyes and sighed at the feeling.

“Did I scare you earlier?” He asks, though his voice portrays an unbothered attitude towards whatever your answer may be - knowing that he’ll be getting what he has yearned for, for far too long, by the time the sun rises nevertheless.

He drops the knife by the side of your head and takes your chin in the grasp of his own hand, forcing your eyes to meet his.

As you shake your head, his thumb slips into your mouth and you take it acceptingly. He can feel himself grow harder at the sight of you sucking on his thumb - his cock stirring uncomfortably in his pants yet he dismisses the feeling to focus on you. 

“Such a brave girl, aren’t you? So good for me.”

Silently, you agreed, nodding your head slowly up and down with your tongue still circling his thumb.

Once again, he takes the knife after removing his thumb from your mouth, and begins to trace the outline of your clothing with it. 

Without warning, he cuts the thin yet tight material of your top, careful not to cut you but thorough in his job as the fabric falls uselessly beside you. Armin takes the fabric and throws it to the side of his room - fed up with the distance between the two of you.

You weren’t wearing a bra, causing Armin’s eyes to widen when he’s met with the sight of your bare chest almost immediately. He smirks and leans down to begin sucking on your tits.

His tongue swirls around one of your nipples whilst he pressed the knife flat against the other.

The sound of your moans could barely be heard from the other side of the room yet they were so clear to Armin who soaked in every moment that he was bringing you pleasure. 

Removing his mouth, he licked his lips and grinned widely down at you.

You were panting slightly and trying to buck your hips into his own, desperate for some sort of friction. He ignored your silent pleas and went back to doing whatever he wanted with you.

Armin traced a knife down your stomach. He pressed down lightly so he wouldn’t hurt you but, nevertheless, your heart still beat restlessly in your chest.

“You have no fucking idea how much I wanna cut you up, baby.” he whispered, smiling at you manically.

Your thighs press together instinctively, searching for that friction you yearned for. Yet, nothing goes unnoticed by Armin. He had spent far too long watching and observing every little detail about you to miss a single thing.

He tilts his head at you. “Oh? You like the sound of that, baby? Want me to cut you up whilst I fuck you, hm?” The cool steel of the knife’s blade glides up your bare stomach and up to your chin. “Does that turn you on, sweetheart?”

You look at him lustfully, yet unblinking and silent. Your hips move underneath his, desperately trying to buck up into his own to gain some sort of pleasure.

Suddenly, you no longer feel the blade against your throat. Armin takes the knife and stabs into the mattress, right by your leg. Merely centimetres away from cutting your thigh.

He grabs your chin, hard enough to send you a warning, letting you know of your mistake but not hard enough that you’d want him to let go. “I asked you a fucking question!” he spat, his wild smile replaced with a sinister frown and furrowed brows.

You looked up at him and grinned like his anger was your only source of entertainment - like it pleased you to see him get so riled up. Still keeping your voice to yourself, he was becoming severely displeased. “Fine then. You won't mind if I look for myself, would you?”

His free hand slipped past your skirt and into your underwear, though his eyes never left yours and his frown never left his lips.

A barely audible moan slipped past your lips at the feeling of his hand touching you where you had needed him the most - where you had been needing him since he had come back yet he had refused to touch.  Although, it didn’t last long as he was quick to remove his hand and examine his wet fingers.

There was an eerie silence hanging in the air for what seemed like minutes. His face had shown little emotion within those moments as he looked down at his hand which was covered in your juices.

Abruptly, the corner of his mouth twitched. Once more, he started to laugh, causing a pout to form on your face.

“I fucking knew it. Fuckin’ knew you were just a little slut, so turned on by the idea of me slicing her up as I fuck her slutty little pussy.” his eyes moved to your face gleefully before putting on a mocking frown. “Aw, c’mon sweetheart! Why’re you so sad? Best use your fucking words. Don't wanna make me mad again, do ya baby?”

“You’re making fun of me, Armin!” you pouted up at him, batting your sweet eyelashes up at him as though you hadn’t just hours ago watched him ruthlessly stab a man repetitively for simply hitting on you. No, no, no. That didn’t bother you. What did, was the fact he had barely touched you where you needed him to, and how he was mocking you for being so turned on.

But how could you not when he looked at you with eyes so full of love? When he touched you with palms stained with the blood of the people he had killed. When he smiled at you with that toothy grin that could have made you think you were next, and if it weren’t for his eyes, you would have thought that.

Although, to anyone else, his eyes would have seemed crazed and murderous. To you, they were full of love because they were murderous.

He’d kill for you.

He has killed for you.

That thought made you feel special and loved in a disturbing kind of way. Others may deem you insane, but in your eyes, you were simply love-struck.

Armin tutted mockingly as his thumb ran across your chin as a reminder of the affection he holds for you before he spews out more cruel words. “Poor baby. Do you want me to touch you, hm?”

In response, you simply nodded your head incessantly, yet it wasn’t enough for Armin. He slapped you harshly across your cheek to which you let out a strained whine and closed your eyes tightly in confusion and annoyance.

“Use your words.” He demanded. Though, he began to remove his own clothes at this point - clearly as desperate as yourself.

You were so desperate to feel his touch that this only frustrated you - needing to feel him as soon as possible because you had been waiting for long enough.

“Please Armin. I need you to touch me so bad.” You batted your eyelashes up at him and lifted your hips up in an attempt to meet his to further demonstrate your desperation. “I can’t take it any more, ‘min. Been needing you for so long, please don’t make me wait any longer-”

He ripped your skirt off with such speed you swore if you had blinked you would have missed it.

Now, it was him that needed you desperately. You were making him a pathetic mess with every syllable that left your sweet lips and he needed you to fix the problem that you were causing him.

The feeling was fairly mutual, you had been grinding your hips against whatever they could reach since he had first started to touch you.

He brought his lips down to yours and forced you into a sloppy and messy kiss that didn’t last very long because of how much he needed to feel you inside of him. Yet, he needed to remind you of how much he loved every part of you before he continued his ravage on your body.

Without warning, Armin flipped the two of you over so that now, you were the one straddling his hips.

You looked down on him, confused as to why he was putting you in a position where objectively, you had the upper-hand.

“You’ve been grinding your slutty pussy against anything it can touch since I even got here, baby. If you’re so fucking desperate, you can do it yourself.” Your lips formed a frown of annoyance as your eyebrow’s furrowed to further demonstrate your feelings. Before continuing, he motioned to his hard-on that was poking your thigh with his head. “Not to mention, you created this fucking problem, so you should be the one to fix it, isn’t that right?”

Your lips parted to object despite his warning glare telling you not to. “No it isn’t! ‘ts not fair, ‘min. Been wanting you to touch me all night and i’ve been so good for you and you’re just gonna make me do all the-”

Again, the sound of his hand meeting your cheek resounded throughout the room harshly. Your face was pushed roughly to the side and your mouth was left agape - yet, for some reason, you only found yourself growing wetter at the violent treatment. It was more rough than the first time he had slapped you, and yet that made it only more pleasuring.

“I killed someone tonight for you. I killed him and buried his body and took care of everything in between and after that and yet you’re still acting like an ungrateful slut. I don’t care how good you’ve been, I’ve asked you to do something, so you’re going to fucking do it.”

Your chest was rising and falling quickly but you had never felt so turned on. There was something laced in the way he was talking down on you, something so alluring about the shy and meek boy you had known just hours ago was now slapping you and saying such harsh words to you.

There was something about how he loved you so harshly that made you feel so secure when his hands met your hips to help you guide yourself down onto his dick.

“Shit- you feel so fucking amazing, baby.” Armin breathed out, his eyes screwed shut as his fingers caressed the sides of your hips in a loving and tender manner to distract you from the inevitable pain of the stretch.

The stretch was far from unnoticeable - you had taken notice of how it wouldn’t be easy from the very second he removed his pants.

Once he was fully inside you, you took a moment to breathe. Armin complied because even though he had been hurting you in several ways, he refused to give you any sort of pain that you didn’t want.

He let you decide when to start moving, and when you did, he threw his head back in pleasure and groaned at the tight feeling of your pussy squeezing him so tightly.

You were slow, trying to grow accustomed to his larger size, but just the feeling of your tight walls hugging his cock like he had dreamed of for so long had his hands grabbing your hips tightly for some semblance of control.

Your pace began to quicken as time moved and the strength wasn’t so much as painful as it was pleasurable- and, fuck, was it pleasurable.

He was filling you up so comfortably and nicely. It almost felt like you were made to take his dick - the way it curved so perfectly and hit the sweet spot inside of you that was making your head spin.

“Doing so good for me, sweetheart. Taking my dick so well, I’m so, so proud of you.”

His praises only spurred you on and motivated you to start slamming your hips against his own, your pace significantly faster than it was previously.

Armin was moaning out openly and chanting praises and curses for how well you were treating him.

The feeling of the veins on his cock running across your walls and his tip kissing the spot inside of you to perfectly have you gasping and practically screaming Armin’s name at the top of your lungs.

Though, he noticed that your hips were growing tired and more sloppy. Deciding that you had been perfect for him and made him feel so good, he suddenly flipped the two of you over once again causing your mind to feel dizzy. It was soon fucked out of you for good, however.

Armin had one of your legs thrown carelessly over his shoulder as he started to pound into your soaking cunt mercilessly. His thick, hard cock was splitting your wet cunt so ruthlessly it had you reaching up to tug on his hair as your mouth fell open silently as though he had knocked all sound from your throat. The only time your voice could be heard was when an occasional string of moans would break through or when you would chant his name breathlessly and barely audible.

Armin’s eyes were glued to the way his cock was slipping in and out of your tight pussy with such ease. He didn’t even notice how hard he was squeezing your flesh until you were whining and pushing at his hands, and even then, all he did was look at you and roll his eyes.

“What? All of a sudden you can’t take a little pain? C’mon, baby, thought you were a big girl.”

You didn’t have the will nor the voice to protest or defend yourself from his insulting remarks. Not when they were making your pussy tighten even more around his cock which immediately alerted him how much you enjoyed his words.

“A-Arminnn-!” You were gasping and moaning, trying so hard to communicate to him what you were feeling.”pleaseeee, I’m-”

“Just shut the fuck up and take it.”

As if it was even possible, Armin’s thrusts had grown more brutal in force and quicker in speed, not before he left a few quick slaps to your soaking pussy - the sound of your wetness ringing throughout the room and only leaving you embarrassed at how much you were enjoying the contact of his hands mistreating your cunt.

As he sped up, he leaned down and peppered kisses all up your chest and across your neck until he found your lips and locked them together once more. He was obsessed with the taste of you - thinking that there was nothing more perfect in the entire world than your soft lips against his own and the taste of you in his mouth.

You could feel your orgasm approaching quickly, the knot inside of you stretching further and further and was so close to snapping.

You tried to convey this to Armin, yet all you could let out were pathetic mewls and cries of pleasure as tears began to run down your cheeks. When Armin noticed, all he could do was kiss your tears away and let his orgasm overcome him.

That was all it took - just a few tears running down your cheeks and he was turned irto a mess that was unable to prevent his own orgasm.

Thick, hot ropes of cum spilled inside of you as he groaned into your ear and it completely sent you over the edge in sync with himself.

Your pussy squeezed him so tightly throught his orgasm and his thrusts didn’t stop for a second - all of it felt so intensely euphoric that all you could do was throw your head back and scream his name as you finished around his dick.

After a few minutes, Armin pulled out of you and watched as his seed dripped down your legs. That same smirk invaded his face once again as he watched with such disgusting desire.

“You’re all mine now.” He whispered.

Breathlessly, Armin kissed up your body, making his way to your jaw before collapsing into your neck.

Voice not above a hushed whisper, he spoke sweet nothings of possessiveness and threats of other’s lives into your ear.

And yet, you sighed, because it was the most peaceful you had ever felt.

note: im sorry this is so late!! the last part will coming soon i promise even if it is the last day of kinktober today. i hope everyone enjoyed!!

[fracturediron]

I haven't really had any standout favourites amongst the DFF characters and I don't really ship any of the canon ships in the usual sense (i.e. no obsessive brainrot, although I'm enjoying them all from a narrative perspective). But the bombshell that was ep 9 has finally made me latch onto a character. This guy:

Although not I think for the most common reason that has caused Tan/New's surge in popularity i.e. being Non's avenger. Because man, New is so much more than that. This kid is a hot mess who's lost everything he holds dear, filled with guilt for failing Non and then his family, seeking answers, revenge, redemption and now has nothing left to lose. I'm so here for it. New's character and his arc is just fucking fascinating to me. Kudos to Mio for playing it so subtle until now and then knocking it out of the freaking park for ep 9.

This kid was the golden child of his family and favoured at least by his mother, and yet clearly felt the pressure of those expectations.

And then! And then! His and Non's whole deal makes my brain buzz. I love me some tragic siblings with a yawning emotional gulf in understanding between them; of a relationship lost or a closeness that never quite made it, of a relationship of two brothers endlessly set against each other and damaged by their parents. A relationship where he failed Non in a litany of little ways by not being there for him, and one always inevitably overshadowed by the comparisons their parents made between them both.

And when Non disappears, New is overcome with guilt! For failing him, and for not being able to be there for him, and so he resolves to find out what happened to him. And he fucking commits to it! This guy throws away his scholarship, his life in England, to fucking redo highschool and infiltrate the gang of kids who bullied his brother! For two years, he hung around with these people pretending to like them and lied to his parents, only to have nothing to show for it and to lose even more when his mother kills herself, his father disowns him and then does the same! This shit would break the strongest of people (and I'd argue something in New is broken now) but he still finds it in himself to kickstart the plan that will bring hell down on these kids.

This kid has lost everything, and is clearly at a place of desperation and despair. But he's still not giving up. Even in the face of ruination and perhaps his own destruction, I feel like New will keep going on regardless if it means finding out what happened to Non. He'll do whatever it takes, burn the world, immolate himself, if it means making that happen.

I think ultimately, I love that New's a tragic, complex character who's been ruined by life and by his own doing, and through ruination, has come out of it unhinged, perhaps even something worse. Someone haunted by the ghosts of his lost family, by his failures and his guilt. Someone with so much potential for further tragedy, who'll likely destroy themselves relentlessly chasing his end goal and end in misery.

TLDR; I love me a haunted, broken, unhinged, fucked up li'l guy.

[throughtrialbyfire]

okay. i Have to write down some of my cicero thoughts because if i don't, i think i will literally combust. i've gotten so invested in his backstory and characterization and i just. aughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!

i love his journals. i know people either skim them or just find the one they need and leave the rest for later or never read them, but i cannot get over how clever an idea it was to reveal his story through journals (unless you also decided to read them and then got obsessed with him, hello). he's a deeply eloquent, well-spoken, and intelligent man whose loyalty to the brotherhood is unfailing. he survived not one, but two DBH sanctuaries being either destroyed or being the last survivor through circumstance, and by the end of the questline, if you spare him, that's three. it's quite literally the will of sithis that he lives, no matter what.

but you meet him in the game and he sounds… completely out of his mind. sheogorath's got teeth in his brain. but then you go back to his journals, and while the initial breakdowns are documented, when you read the latest entries, he's still intelligent and eloquent and cunning. how do we know what his mental state truly is? can even his written word be trusted? can his presentation as the absurd, mad jester be believed?

its late and my brain is tired but. in short, cicero skyrim you fascinate me endlessly. i want to study him in a lab. <3

[anshiiiiin]

Hi!! You're an incredible artist! I hope you won't think it's rude, but I was wondering what draws you to guro? I like whump and horror, but guro is often too much for me, and I'm curious about your point of view!

If it's too personal, you don't have to answer!

thank you so much for your kind words! i don't think your message is rude, thank you for asking in such a nice way. sorry for a long text, hope its not too TMI

i was drawn to the themes of suffering and torture for as long as i remember. as a kid i was spending a lot of time in the orthodox church and i was absolutely fascinated by the stories of christian martyrs, and would daydream endlessly about their violent deaths, imagining myself in their place. I told my parents several times that i dream of being a martyr and how sad i am that its not those times anymore. my parents were happy to hear it, and thought it showed how devoted to christ i am. i was drawing people tortured and in prisons, and below i would write "suffer for christ" or "this is what happens to non-believers". when i did pretend play, i suggested my mom to play "kitty" with me, where i play as a kitty, and she beats me up. Violence and forms of suffering were always on my mind as i was growing, and i am still fascinated and drawn to it.

as to why i was drawn to this from the start, i am not sure. maybe it's because i was beaten and degraded/abused a lot and mixed love for my parent with the pain it was giving me. maybe it's how my mental illness manifested itself when i was young, or maybe that's just how my brain is wired

right now i am well medicated and lead a very calm non-self-destructive life. i am happy that i can express my violent ideas in art instead of seeking death irl :>