#nothing gets solved in inaction

[cattreats4humans]

autism registry went after medicare and medicaid first and things got quiet really fast huh

id like to put someone elses post on my story like i usually do, but there is no 'someone elses post'.

if poor and old people are at risk, we dont give a shit do we? we arent poor or old.

im lucky enough to still have posts about palestine, about congo, about migrants in america on my feed.

have we forgotten? do we find the real horrors too distant? too unsightly?

we're such good people are we, afterall, we dont go and kick the tents of our unhoused neighbors. we just ignore them. they aren't people to us anyway.

if you are numb, indifferent, or quiet, if you feel no outrage, you are the problem.

so fix it.

btw if you think my efforts are directed the wrong way, that i should be attacking maga directly, you fucking first. you change the mind of a person content with the dehumanization. the cruelty. the repeats of history.

oh? this sounds like you? unfazed by the evidence that something truely wrong is happening? well change your own fucking mind before telling me what im doing wrong.

a bystander is just as guilty as a perpetrator.

[nothorses]

Maybe I'm just too much of a utilitarian but it seems to me that the moral dilemma of "should I vote for Biden and tell the Democrats that genocide is fine or not vote and possibly help Trump into power through my inaction" can be solved with lying. Call up your rep or whoever's in charge of your local democrats and tell them that you won't be voting for Biden because of his lack of action with regards to Palestine. Then go vote for him anyway. What are they going to do? Check? If you haven't voted yet, there's nothing to check, and if you have, then it could be that a change in his actions prompted it. They don't know if you're lying to them. And that's if they bother to check at all. It's not illegal to lie to politicians about your voting plans.

no you're 100% correct about this.

and like, there are other "representative democracies" (calling this system "democratic" is a sad joke but whatever) where this is not really an issue; I really enjoyed Mia Mulder's latest video on the topic, where she gets into the nitty-gritties of her experience with politics and how her election played out in Sweden. Just the example of how another system worked gave me a lot of useful perspective on our's! (in Sweden, each party's candidates are elected in proportion to the percentage of votes the party got; even if the party only gets 10% of the total votes, they'll still have a couple of candidates representing them, rather than that being considered a "loss" like it would be in the US).

We need to set up ideal conditions to push for systemic change, and reducing harm & electing the easiest people to push into what we want is practically the best way to do that. Lie about how you intend to vote. they won't check.

[becomingthatgirl111]

The mindset of 2025

Happy New Year to all of you! I know I was inactive for a long time in 2024, but I'm going to start up again little by little. I have learned a lot of things during the year and when I feel inspired or ready to write about it I will.

I want to tell you that even if you didn't meet your goals one year it doesn't mean that they won't be met or that you are a disaster. Nowadays we are oversaturated with information and content from people who idealize their life to the maximum and although on one hand I think that is positive because it can help us to motivate us and learn new things on the other hand I feel that everyone's life is not the same and that each of us have different situations and sometimes we do not know how to handle them or we focus on the wrong thing and forget what we had planned or what we wanted to accomplish, but everything leaves us a lesson and something that I have learned this past year (the last few months especially) is to stop worrying and live life as you would like, no matter the circumstances, because the circumstances that you are going through right now, that which is preventing you from doing something you want to do will only keep you stuck in the same place.

Many times you don't have to do a thousand things or have a perfect routine but change the approach with which we see things, we worry about things that don't really deserve our attention and forget those that are important.

So for my part this year I want to develop a more stoic attitude towards certain situations and live for me, not for others. And I say this for many people who write me looking for advice, which I am grateful because you trust me but I always say it and I also apply it to myself because in the end we are people and there are things that bother us but do not give so much attention to those people or situations that you do not like, the solution will come, but trying to solve it or looking for a thousand answers you get nothing, better focus on what makes you happy or the goals you want to achieve.

What I want to say with all this is that for this new year it is no longer useful to continue suffering, to be bitter about people or things that we cannot change, when we change our attitude, when we stop giving so much attention to them, they will surely be resolved. and leave behind everything that you don't like and move forward, that's when you will see the real change.

Ideas for starting the year off right, manifesting and focusing

Write in your journal: ins and outs for 2025, the learnings you gained and look at them in a positive light, what you want to let go of, new habits you want to implement little by little, how last year made you feel and how you want to feel this year.

A meditation to kick-start the new year and visualise your goals or wishes.

Reorganise your space. Get rid of anything you have that no longer serves or pleases you, make changes in your room (or house) and make that space something nice that makes you feel comfortable to be in.

Start your plan. Set one main goal for this year and smaller goals that will lead you to achieve that goal in the end. A small habit you set today can lead to big results in the long run.

Nourish your mind with content that motivates you and helps you learn things to improve yourself. Not just personal growth but any area of your life that you think needs a boost. For example if you have problems with your relationships read or listen to podcasts on how to improve on that, positively influence others, learn about non-verbal language, that sort of thing.

And finally, don't wait for anything to change if you don't change yourself first. It's hard at first but change your mindset, act like an improved version of you. Think differently than you are doing now. Commit yourself to all your goals and if one of them is not achieved, it doesn't matter because you will have learned a lesson or you will have opened the door to something new and better, you never know. What has helped me the most to think differently have been the videos and podcasts about personal growth and other related topics. Because it opened up new ways of thinking that I didn't know about, and I was able to face things in a different way, but in the end you have to do the work yourself.

So I hope you have a good year and that everything goes well for you.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Savage wisdom

*A debate between an Elder species and a young human over humanities intervention in an unfolding galactic disaster after the Elder species refused to get involved.

Human: What?

H: Do you come to critique me old one?

H: Do you object to how I handled things?

H: You have no grounds on which to lecture me.

Alien: Mind your tone.

A: I am older than the stars themselves little one; my wisdom is the stuff of ages.

H: You are indeed old and wise, but what have you done with that knowledge?

H: Nothing.

H: You have sat and watched from afar as we have struggled to survive innumerable problems that you could have fixed in a blink of an eye.

A: Then what would you have learned?

H: The dead learn nothing, and the grieving care not for your pontificating.

A: And what if I had intervened as you insist?

A: If my people solved every problem and minor dilemma you younger races face, what growth could be expected of you?

A: You would become nothing more than pale mockeries of who you are now.

A: Lesser than that even; creatures so afraid of your own shadows that you would cling to my robes like an adolescent.

A: A life without struggle, without hardship, will leave you frail and weak; and this is a galaxy that does not tolerate the neither for long.

H: You speak as if we asked you to move the stars themselves!

A: It does not matter what the request was, nor that we refused it; only that you came to make it at all

H: So that’s it then?

H: The most powerful species in the galaxy and you are content to sit on the sidelines while we play out our lives?

A: You still do not see….

H: Then make me!

H: Show me what I am missing!

H: End your parade of riddles and half-truths and give me a straight answer!

*Alien ascends to full height towering over the mortal human

A: Were you naught taught that your actions have consequences!?

A: You throw a stone into a river and it casts a ripple.

A: I throw a stone and it casts a tidal wave!

A: Worlds would burn, galaxies snuffed from existence, trillions of lives looking up to the heavens begging me and my kind to save them from their inevitable demise we could no more prevent than I could stop the sun from rising!

A: And you have the arrogance to come before me and think you can cast judgment for my inaction!

*Alien leans down to glare at human

A: I have seen the lure of power corrupt time and again and all too quickly does the adulation of the masses turn to screams as those with power become consumed by it.

A: The universe becomes nothing more than a playground and those within it toys to be played with then cast aside.

A: In your tongue you call these beings “Gods”, and that is what you would make of us.

H: We would not.

A: Do not lie to me!

A: I have seen your histories little one.

A: I know those we save would build monuments in our name, pray and offer us gifts and sacrifices for our favor, and not long after denounce any who would not believe as they do an cast them into the fires of war and hatred.

A: The younger species would place us upon a throne high atop a mountain of corpses and call it paradise.

*Alien retreats from human and begins pacing away.

A: You asked if my kind was content to simply watch.

A: We are not.

A: I am not.

A: But such are the ways of the universe.

H: * Shakes head

H: I don’t believe that.

A: *Laughs

A: One day you’ll see it as I do.

*Alien begins to vanish into dense smoke cloud

A: That is, if you can survive that long.

[plasticfreckles]

🪶 depressing masturbation rookanis enjoy 🪶

He doesn't even notice it the first time it happens, the way his voice breaks around the vowels of her name and his clothes stick to his skin. Too caught up chasing the high after so long to notice anything but the rush of release.

Then, the fingers sneaking under his shirt, running over his chest and following his trail, start feeling smaller, though he knows it's only ever been himself, touching him this way.

He supposes it's normal, to imagine what someone else's touch might feel like. Especially when he considers his own inexperience.

He doesn't stop to evaluate the chain of events until he can feel someone's breath on his skin.

There's barely enough air in the pantry to keep his candles lit, never mind make a draft through his clothes.

No, not someone's breath. Rook's breath. The hitched intake of air through teeth and chapped lips, the irregular sound of exhales as more inhaling races to follow. Her chest expanding and the curve of her ribs leaning into his thigh.

Maker's blood, this can't be happening.

He takes his hand out of his underwear and rubs his face.

-

He comes to with a sharp, stinging, sliding pain in his loins. Finds himself rutting desperately into a pillow, though pleasure has long been replaced by overstimulation. He's not sure there was pleasure at all.

Get it all out. Get what out? Stupid, useless, longing. Have you been at it since I fell asleep? You won't touch Rook. You won't touch YOU. Just keep aching. NO MORE.

Lucanis pushes the pillow off his cot. His hands kept it closed, pressed around his dick, and now it lies open by his feet, shaming and accusing him. It feels like someone had taken a dull blade to the sensitive skin. The fact that he was so pent up with longing his demon made him fuck a pillow until the pillowcase changed color brings tears in his eyes. The fact that the demon even went to the lengths of fucking a pillow to clumsily emulate touching another being makes them spill over.

He always has been easily stirred after cumming.

Wouldn't hurt. If you TALKED TO HER. And tell her what? I wanked until my dick hurt, like it's her problem to solve? Let me talk to her! I tell her what we need! Absolutely not. Not if we're not together. You'll never be together!

Lucanis knows that Spite laments his inaction toward his feelings, and is not actually condemning him to eternal isolation.

But he still hides his face in his hands.

-

He's torn about it.

The part of him that loves Rook, that wants to be with her, wants nothing more than love and be loved, wants to indulge. He could at least have the thought of her, the image of purple curls falling over his bare hip, of painted nails on small, slim fingers walking up his stomach and teasing at his nipples, of chapped lips on his temple and those fingers in his hair, around his dick, caressing his thigh, threading through his own.

Even if he could never have her, not like this, at least he would have his dreams.

The part of him that lives outside of the pathway between his heart and his loins, knows he shouldn't think of her this way. Not when she leant in for a kiss and he turned away. She deserves better than to deal with his mess.

But it's all he could ever hope to have of her, Heart says, spreading his legs to make space for the thought of her between his thighs.

But that doesn't mean he should just take it, says Rationale, brutally crushing her head and lacing up his pants.

If she knew even a fraction of what happens in his mind, when the night is late and he chokes on his desperate longing... He knows what she'd think of him, exponentially worse than what she'd tell him of it, and he'd fall apart over it.

Because she wouldn't think less of him for it.

You're more than what you're going through. And you wear it well.

He bites down on his wrist to silence his moan, the desperate crack in his voice as he thrusts up into his own hand.

Dream Rook shushes him, carefully pries the skin out from between his teeth. It's okay, she says, I've got you. She trails kisses over the dents of his incisors.

Lucanis can almost feel the cot shift under the weight of her.

His imagination is lacking, trying to picture her leaning down to wrap her glittery lips around his dick, pretending to feel the almost-danger of her teeth.

He hates that he defaults to thinking of her, but thrills that the thought of her makes him come apart so easily.

At least he doesn't sit on his hands anymore before touching himself.

-

To say he's content with this situation would be a lie. Truth be told, he's so unhappy with it, he thinks of the numbness of the Ossuary as preferable.

But he won't burden her with it. She already has to deal with them all and her gods and the Antaam and the Venatori and the Blight and countless other little fires. He refuses to be another flame.

Until Spite walks over and sniffs at her fingers.

She does it. Smells of it. Hand smells like. Between her thighs.

That he doesn't stick his nose between her legs like a dog seems almost like too much to ask. Not that Spite would listen, anyway.

Rook can't see Spite, but something makes her stuff her hand into her pocket, anyway.

"What's wrong?" She asks.

"Nothing. Don't worry about it."

"You can let me worry a little," she takes him in, and stares right into his soul. "You look tired. More tired than usual."

"I can still work." She nods, sighing. She does not like that answer, but trusts him to tell her the truth no matter what.

He almost throws up on the spot at his betrayal.

"If you'd like, you can let me know when you go to sleep later - I'll sit in the kitchen and make sure he's not going anywhere." A short laugh. "I'm taking out Taash and Harding. I'll need to decompress after that anyway."

Why must she make this so hard?

🪶

i wrote 75% of this being insomniac before opening shift at work and the other 25% during several breaks at several workdays, sitting in the dark bc the couch is too far away from the motion sensor and I really didn't wanna get up lol

also i don't know how dicks work bc i don't have one. boohoo dont bother me.

@victias bc we gotta do everything ourselves around here <3

@chubritza bc you saw it before i meant to so now u get to know I decided to stop standing in my own way and post it fr :)

next up: think-ception masturbation once I'm off my period and horny enough myself to actually write shameless smut lmao

[~rina]

[kpop-cakepops]

Hidden (Kim Mingyu X AFAB!Reader)

Description: angst. You get in a fight with Mingyu :,)

Warnings: slight cussing.

(Haha, not me writing after years of inactivity 😂😭, enjoyyy. Also, this is not revised, so excuse any grammar errors)

It wasn't that you were jealous, not even insecure... it was envy. There you were, sat in the loneliness of your bedroom, tapping through the private Instagram stories of your boyfriend at yet another function. His friends sat at a large table, enjoying their time with him. Time you were missing out on. Time that could have been yours, too.

With a dejected sigh, you drop your phone on your bed and get ready to hop in the shower. The stories had been posted 2 hours earlier, so it came as no surprise to hear the front door of your apartment open and close followed by your boyfriend's heavy footsteps coming in the direction of your bedroom.

You quickly busied yourself looking through your closet for your pajamas until you finally heard him enter. He smelled faintly of alcohol as his warm hands came in contact with your hips from behind. "Hi princess"

"Hey" your response was curt and cold and you knew you were being petty, but there was not a single fiber in you telling you be nice.

He noticed. He always did when you were upset. A sigh left his lips, and he stepped back, allowing you out of his hold. "What did I do now?"

You gave him a quick glance. He was now sitting at the edge of your bed watching you closely, like a math problem he was in a hurry to solve. "Nothing. I'm just tired" he could continue trying to solve it for all you cared.

If only Mingyu were the type to back down.

"Clearly not just 'nothing'" he insisted. "You're upset at me."

"I'm not doing this right now."

"If you don't want to fight, then at least do a good job of acting like everything is ok." now he was upset too. A small part of you wanted to blame yourself for doing this again, but the bigger part of you was hurt and felt left out. Things that a girlfriend should not feel about her boyfriend.

"Where were you tonight?" You finally met eyes with him only to have him roll his at you.

"Seriously?"

"That doesn't answer my question" you insisted.

"I went to have drinks with some friends, it's my day off." He finally conceded. "I didn't invite you because I thought you'd be busy-"

You can't help the scoff that leaves your lips, "bullshit" you interrupt. "Bullshit, Mingyu. You know my schedule. You knew I took today off- shit, I took today off for you and not one single call from you? Not even lunch?"

"Babe, it was a party for Lisa, and we all know you two don't really-"

"Holy shit, that's the excuse you're going with? That it was a party organized for Lisa, who I don't really talk to? At least fucking try to make sense, Kim Mingyu." You had said you weren't insecure, but you started to realize slowly that maybe you were insecure. This had never been an issue to you before Mingyu, you had never felt less than, you had never felt...

Hidden.

"Y/N I was just trying to save you an awkward time-"

Your eyes locked into his guilty black ones immediately, and as if by instinct you knew. "Mingyu, do they know about us?"

He stopped whatever bullshit excuse he was giving you, lips parted and eyes tearing away from your gaze immediately.

You hadn't been together for too long, but definitely long enough for his friends to know, surely. You had told all your friends by the time you'd been dating for 3 months, it would make absolutely no sense for him not to tell his friends after being together for 5 months... right?

"You know my friends know-"

You dropped the clothes in your hands and stomped up to him, shaking your head furious, "No, I know your members know. But what about your friends? Do they know that we're dating? Or am I correct in assuming that you are hiding me?"

You were met by silence. He avoided your gaze and stood from the bed turning his back on you, a hand tangled in his hair. "This is not how I thought tonight would go. I can't believe you're doing this right now."

"You're embarrassed of me?" You didn't mean for your voice to tremble the way it did. You hadn't even realized that your eyes were threatening to spill frustrated tears down your cheeks.

Your boyfriend flinched at the sound of your voice, but he didn't have the courage to face you. "Y/N..."

"Is it because I don't look like one of your super model friends?" You ask, "Or is it because I spend 40 hours a week holed up in an office? Or maybe because I live in an apartment that's the size of your walk in closet?"

He turns to look at you defeated, "Baby no-"

But it's too late. The seed of insecurity within you has germinated, it's grown roots, and they're spreading and wrapping around you at the speed of light. You can no longer keep eye contact with him. In an attempt to hide your tears, you pick up the clothes you'd dropped and start walking past him in direction of your bathroom.

His large hand grabs at your arm softly, "Y/N, please, let's not do this."

"I think you should go home. I have work in the morning." With a soft tug of your arm, his hand drops, and you lock yourself away in your bathroom, pressing a wrist to your lips, hoping that's enough to hide the choked sobs you'd been suppressing for weeks.

[autistichalsin]

So here's a hot take.

I see a lot of people saying that it would be fun to have a way to make Halsin worse. And I agree that it would totally be cool to be able to corrupt Halsin!

However, I don't think his canon arc would make the most sense leading to the Shadow Druids. Those are the tiny hints Larian dropped, yeah- the Shadow Druids being sent by Ketheric to corrupt the Grove to make them less of a threat against him, the Shadow Druids noting they are going to Baldur's Gate next, Halsin's brief moment of doubt that they were right. And a lot of other media love playing the ecoterrorist angle. So I can see why it's where a lot of people's minds go.

But from a characterization standpoint, I can't see it. Halsin dealt with the Shadow Curse for over 100 years. It cursed his home, and his childhood best friend who was the physical embodiment of nature. If he survived literally 100 years of darkness without being particularly moved to join the Shadow Druids, I just don't see how the sufferings of Baldur's Gate would push him into it. Those are much less personal stakes.

So, if we were to get a darker Halsin route, I would propose one of two things;

1. Introduce a failure state for act 2 that doesn't result in Halsin staying behind in the Shadowlands.

The easiest thought is that maybe doing part of the quest but not finishing it would result in him staying behind, seeing that there is hope to break it now, while doing nothing makes him think he's no closer to solving it than he was before, so things are unlikely to deteriorate while he goes with the player to solve the Absolute crisis.

Or if we wanted to make it REALLY awful, make it possible for Thaniel and/or Oliver to actually die, breaking Halsin's heart completely in the process. With his friend gone for good, his last hope gone, and with the Dead Three to blame directly, Halsin could become clouded by grief. Maybe it makes his story mirror Ketheric's in a sad way; Ketheric lost Isobel and became a monster, Halsin loses Thaniel and, while not becoming a monster per se, takes a darker, extremist path to avenging him, vowing to let nature reclaim Baldur's Gate in his memory.

Basically, what I'm getting at here is that there's nothing personal enough in Baldur's Gate proper to inspire such a radical shift. Canon, as it is, lets us see his momentary temptation and go "yeah makes sense" but there needed to be far more if I was going to buy his transformation to a Shadow Druid. This would provide that deep pain that cults are so good at preying on.

2. Similar to the above, but pushing it back to act 1. Make it so that the Grove raid, instead of being triggered by the player directly, can also be triggered by inaction; maybe once the player speaks to Minthara/frees Sazza, a timer starts for long rests, and at the conclusion, if the leaders aren't killed, the goblin leaders show up at the Grove. Halsin being freed already lets him fight on your side to stop them, while Halsin still being a captive lets the raid complete.

Similar to the above, Halsin's rage and grief at the defilement of nature then drives him into it. At first he just seeks out revenge, but later, after seeing the Shadow Curse and having those particular wounds opened back up (this one could proceed the same as canon) he gets pushed into something more methodical.

Shadow Druid Halsin could be a lot of fun IMO, but we would need something more than we have to establish a motive. Seeing sadness in a city for the first time wouldn't be enough to cause Halsin to drop every principle he has about nature being a balancing act between good and evil, darkness and light, order and chaos. For him to be pushed so firmly to an anti-society view, he would need to witness something far worse. So those are the two scenarios I can think of that would give just the little push, the sense of personal, direct harm, that would cause Halsin's morals to shift so drastically.

[ilikekidsshows]

I hate that we're at a point where I just.. I just gave up on trying to discuss things with Marinette fans. I'm so over their delusions and hypocritical claims about the show and Marinette.

The way they declare Marinette's massive support system as worthless always comes down to the same argument: the characters do not 1000% dedicate their whole existences to Marinette's care so they don't count.

Alix apparently doesn't count as support system because she isn't executing her job of keeping the flow of time right as "bending time and space so Marinette doesn't have to face difficult situations" (even though she could easily solve them for herself if she would stop lying to everyone and making shit about herself that isn't). Marinette fans feel so entitled to Marinette being all that matters that Alix is getting shit on for not breaking the time lines for Marinette's comfort. How is that a rational explanation for why Marinette isn't using her army of a support system?

Fucking LUKA isn't really a support system apparently because he isn't 24/7 doing everything for Marinette to solve HER messes and is now only taking care of her only 90% of his total screen time instead of 100%. Also, Luka is now getting accused of having ditched Marinette in season 5, which??? What the fuck kind of deflection is that? Luka left everything behind because Monarque found out that he knows the identities of Ladybug and Chat Noir. How is that ditching? It's like when Marinette fans claim that Marinette was abandoned by FU when he literally had to sacrifice his memories because she made a mistake that led Hawkmoth to him.

Alya doesn't count as support system apparently because she dared to not cuddle Marinette in Revelator and wanted her memories wiped because Marinette always let's everyone find out about everything in the worst possible ways and here it resulted in Alya absolutely NOT having it with Marinette but giving her a second chance to come clean. Apparently, people don't count as support anymore if they dare to not react like your perfect care takers that always put your feefees first whenever your inactions forced them to find things about in the worst ways. Funny how that standard never applies to Marinette whenever she takes everything out on other people.

Even Kagami gets shit on and said to not count as support system for Marinette pretty much simply because she isn't solving Marinette's problems for her without Marinette ever once asking for any help. That and because she dared to put ADRIEN first when he was breaking down after Ladybug just told him that he's now an orphan, but Marinette kept on as good as begging for Adrien to take care of HER in that moment so Kagami send her ass out.

Marinette stans are fucking nutjobs. I don't have it in me anymore to even try and discuss things with them anymore. There is just no use. It's been 4 years now since all this escalated with season 4 and I'm just sick and tired of Marinette stans' nonsense where they scream and cry about Marinette not being given more sympathy and excuses by the fandom, but at the same time treat everything else in the show as nothing but Marinette's human shaped resources she's owed and is being "failed" by because they aren't doing EVERYTHING for her, including breaking time and space apparently.

All I can hope is that one day Marinette stans will rewatch the show and finally see that morality doesn't start and end at Marinette's benefit and comfort. And that canon is actual CANON, no matter if they don't like it.

---

Yeah, like, Maripologists have been whining about Cat Noir letting himself get hit to protect Ladybug because “it upsets Marinette!” and when Marinette tells him to get hit she's just a master planner. Maripologists say absolutely wild things, is what I'm saying. I still remember when Maripologists who literally dogpiled and harassed me for saying Marinette has one of the biggest support networks in fiction defended themselves by claiming I “was out of line” for that statement. Like, they think pointing out Marinette has support is salt and hate, that's the level of disconnect and inability to have a nuanced discussion about anything we're dealing with. The “Marinette is a lonely wretch who never gets the help she obviously needs it's so sad and all the other characters' fault for ignoring how upset Marinette obviously is” narrative has been going on for years, since even before the retool started giving her even more supporters that the Maripologists then have to pretend don't count.

And the double standard is so obvious. Ladybug ignoring every attempt Cat Noir makes at telling her something's wrong in season 4 is his fault for “not telling her something's wrong”, but every other character is expected to be a mind reader and always know when poor widdle Marinette is upsette and needs to be taken care of. Cat Noir made far more attempts at reaching out when he needs help than Marinette's ever done and he gets scraps in terms of someone making him feel better for a bit and that's his own fault apparently, while with Marinette we’re at the level where she never tells anyone anything and then breaks down while the Maripologists blame everyone but the person with all the power and knowledge in the situation. Sublime’s introduction episode ended with her promising to help make Marinette comfortable with her being friends with her boyfriend. This is a standard interaction for Marinette, she is not hurting for people willing to help her constantly, but nothing will ever be enough for Maripologists.

Sometimes, though, I just don't think she's the one the characters should worry about so much. Frankly, I think her demanding that her emotional needs have to get taken care of while she's upsette about gaslighting her own boyfriend is ghoulish. Kagami and Alya were right to throw that in her face. How about you just don't gaslight your boyfriend? In real life, people will look at someone going: “I’m the one upset here” at a problem they willingly and knowingly caused and think they're a selfish jerk at best.

Oh, I never attempt reasonable discussions with Maripologists, because my first few encounters with them showed me that they will attempt to alter reality itself to turn Marinette into the victim of every situation and every character no matter what. And even those interactions were started by the Maripologists themselves being offended I’d say things like: “Marinette is emotionally fragile” and “Marinette has a big support system of people willing to emotionally support her that she is failing to utilize”, both of which are things we can objectively prove by watching the show.

I’m not going to say I’m a former Marinette stan, I always preferred Adrien to her, but I used to like her character and enjoy her in the protagonist role. I thought she was kinda wimpy with how often she'd complain about small problems or complete nonissues but I figured she's a kid protagonist, it's realistic and she'll probably grow out of it, only for her character to stagnate. And through this entire process, Maripologists have always been insisting that Marinette is simultaneously the most resilient person ever who never complains but also the most obviously pathetic wretch in existence that everyone should see is in constant need of emotional uplifting and help and the fact that they aren't doing everything in their power to help her and get rid of anything bothering her even slightly makes them negligent! If something makes Marinette upsette, it means her support network is too small and neglecting her and not doing their jobs.

[robinnygrenart]

StoryTime.

60% of what made me enjoy Miraculous was fanfics I stumbled upon, 20% the show, 20% my sister really liking it and wanting me to watch it. Another 60% Season 4 finale and Marinette getting a straight on panic-attack on a Disney show.

Back to the fanfics, a lot of them were stuff I found on youtube where people made stories based on songs and artwork they had found. Now, I don’t write songs.. But I do draw stick figures.

So I gave myself a goal. One of my drawings will one day make it into a fan fiction. Then I can rest and see the sun fall on a peaceful universe. Or how the quote goes.

Now. I do have an idea for a fic. Something I would genuinely like to see. I just haven’t written anything since 5th grade tho… so I’m going to present my pitch and hope someone more equipped than me finds it and shows interest.

Time Skip! Adult cast. Post school. Marinette and Adrien..? Didn’t work out. Hero activity in Paris? Still going strong except… two are inactive. Marinette’s responsibilities and anxieties were too much. She gave up Guardianship. She lost her memories.

Did it solve her anxiety?

No. It made it worse.

Now she has social anxiety based on memories she no longer has. The thought patterns remained. She ended up feeling like a burden and broke things off.

Where’s Adrien now? Aboard. Marinette? Home alone, not answering calls, not holding a job. Peaked in high school.

The story? Adrien returns to Paris and wakes up old nightmares in Marinette. But also… Chat Noir? Famous hero who Marinette has nothing to do with? Stumbles into her life, and together they find joy in existing and to live with the baggage.

And maybe… a polka dotted heroine back to action?

[blackdigitalrose]

It has been a couple of days now and part of the finale has been bothering me and it is our alleged unicorn like deity of the series.

A grateful Niko

Even more gratitude off Niko...

And even more pleasantries, however,

Seems fair enough, worlds not being compatible, putting the denizens of her world first or just the fact there are extinct creatures under her care, which could cause all kinds of uproars if re-discovered etc, there are a few simple reasons you could explain it off. (Still, she could have left a suitcase with the group, she knew they were good and had them promise to keep it a secret.)

Also seems fair enough, the threat is gone and the problem has been solved. They no longer need them. Besides, Niko had threatened to strip them of their Precure powers when she first came onto the scene anyway. (Again though, what was the harm in letting them keep them, she could have just made them inactive, what if something else came along, they'd be defenceless.)

However, here's where the cracks appear, the Mirror stone is an extension of her power but here openly admits to it being its own sentient like entity. Niko had nothing to do with what happened.

So what in the blue blazes do you call this!?

If the Mirror stone is its own thing and their ability to turn human and talk was given by the Mirror stone, what right exactly did Niko have to take it away?

This just puts a really weird light on Niko and it isn't a good one. After all, it isn't like she really offers an explanation she just takes them. They succeeded not failed, yet look like they were punished, so in the end, it was a lose, lose situation. Fail to stop Subaru, powers gone, succeed in stopping Subaru, powers still gone.

On top of that not only do Daifuku, Komugi and Yuki get the short straw here, is this really how you say thanks for all their hard work and effort? Niko deals a major low blow to the lot she was suppose to be appreciative and grateful to and not only does she not mention anything, Niko just books it out of there with out a word, only for the human trio to discover the hard truth out on their own afterwards.

Which in short means, she just used the lot of them.

(Yes, the scene where they regain the ability to talk was super touching but it was completely unnecessary in the first place).

If anything, Niko could have actually been a better final villain, becoming like the very thing she detests through manipulation of the Cure group, the ones who have actually been loyal to her.

[insert-random-account-name]

Analyze the Princess- The Nightmare

The Nightmare route causes paranoia in both the in-game character and the player. Many people run their logic in circles because they feel every course of action will end in death. The Nightmare is another common route to encounter, since you can get her both with and without the blade, and she comes with taking the middle road of not killing the Princess but not saving her either. Her dynamic with her corresponding voice is one of the most iconic (Heart, lungs, liver, nerves), yet it is only credited to the Paranoid and not to the Nightmare. I feel like the Nightmare’s emotion and pain is stripped, simply because people see her more as bad and scary than as hurt and seeking comfort, not realizing that she can be both.

You get the Nightmare by entering the basement (whether or not you bring the blade doesn’t matter) and either attempt to fight the Princess, but flee and lock her in the basement, or you simply decide she’s not to be trusted and lock her in the basement. This results in her turning into a sleep paralysis demon and shutting down your organs, sending you to the Nightmare. The Nightmare resembles a haunted doll: She appears to not have legs, her flowing black dress ending in black fog. Her skin is black, and she wears white gloves and a porcelain mask. She glitches in and out of sight, as if she were just a hallucination. You can’t even exist around her without your organs struggling to operate under the intense stress (The only reason you can survive is due to the actions of the Voice of the Paranoid). The Nightmare desires company outside of her lonely basement, but she knows nothing but violence and abandonment. This is why she doesn’t kill you at first sight; even though you’re a wretched coward, you’re the only person she’s ever seen. That doesn’t make her kind in any way, however, since she is fully willing to torment you for the rest of eternity. Still, she won’t kill you, regardless of what you do.

The Nightmare represents true loneliness. She desires company, to witness a world beyond an empty basement, but she’s been alone for so long that she doesn’t know how to find companionship. She wants to turn the world upside down, make people afraid, and leave a trail of death in her wake, because that’s the only thing she can do. Fear is the only emotion she inspires, so she became quite good at provoking it. The Nightmare learned that people will only run away when they see her, so she refuses to give them the option. 

She’s also in quite the difficult predicament. She wants connections, but there is still the hurt in her heart from being abandoned. The Nightmare solves this problem by keeping you close to her while simultaneously lashing out at them. This causes you to fear and resent her, which makes her more hurt and upset, which intensifies her lashing out, creating a vicious perpetual motion machine. 

If you decide to leave with the Nightmare, she is overjoyed. She sees this as you being willing to atone for your past sins. This is why she will willingly get within arms reach of you, since she thinks not only that you wouldn’t dare to kill her, but that you aren’t even capable of doing so. What did you even do against her the last time you met? Nothing. You can’t possibly resist the will of someone so perfectly terrifying.

Even when you do slay her, she isn’t mad, but greatly amused at your audacity. With her final words, the Nightmare promises vengeance, while also noting that you’re trapped here too, since the stairs won’t come back now that she’s dead. She isn’t concerned about the permanence of her demise; no, she knows that she’s coming back, and then you’ll pay.

However, if you decide to stay with her, or flee, she is finally enraged. Once again, you’re trying to find some middle ground where there is no agreement to be had. Every option hurts someone, but inaction hurts everyone. Despite her anger, she isn’t surprised; a coward will always be a coward. 

The Nightmare may seem to be terrifying, but beneath her mask, there is a lonely and tender heart.

Guess who finally caved and made a masterpost? Me! You can find links to all of my character analysis posts there!

Slay the Princess Character Analysis Masterpost

[gayofthefae]

"The van scene is just for Will's plotline it doesn't affect Mike" what if I said the opposite was true. What if I said it did not serve as a climax for Will because he had already demonstrated an ability for honesty, vulnerability, and the self-assurance required in his confrontation of Mike in episode 2. What if I said that it only served his story as an inciting incident for the Jonathan coming out scene - a scene which, as I've said before, was the actual climax of his season arc, which was about his queerness, not Mike.

It is a setup for Mike, we know that, but it also doesn't really directly serve Will's arc at all. It is a self sabotage - setup for season 5, but something we already know him to do. It is a transition point for Mike. And it is the straw that breaks the camel's back for Jonathan. Besides that, it speaks directly to the audience at best. But it does not serve Will. He gets nothing truly off his chest because he is not unburdened - if anything worse off because he gave up his hope, he doesn't teach us things we couldn't otherwise deduce, and it moves him no internally closer to closure.

The speech only serves for Mike to react to and Jonathan to witness (and the cinematography reflects that). The following scenes reflect that too. The only scenes of importance in either plot following that are Will's scene with Jonathan and Mike telling El he loves her. Both directly tied to the speech, Mike's more textually, and no independently actionable resolution for Will.

This was the post but I had more thoughts, per usual

Will has a theme of unactionable resolutions. In episode 2 he is honest and from there the ball is in Mike's court. His most actionable plot is the painting, which he has demonstrated the vulnerability for already but the self-prioritization required is not a line he as a character is willing to cross, something that isn't a character flaw in need of resolution given what he logically believes the effects would be. The ball is in Mike's court from the beginning and remains there. And will remain there. Will had no arc necessity to confess because not confessing exposed no character flaws (shoutout to the writers for not presenting choosing to remain in the closet as a character flaw!!!). He was put in a helpless position of heartbreak and sadness and, like all of us wanted for him, wanted to do something about it, wanted to be able to do something about it, so he tried, but ultimately realized that the risk outweighed the reward, and the cost of the reward (El) would outweigh it anyways. That is logical. He is logical. He does everything logically. He is helpless this season. And he wants to believe he isn't, and we want to believe he isn't, but he is. Because the ball is in Mike's court. It was then and it is now. And it has been since the Snow Ball, really.

Because in December, 1984, after Will's perpetual but logical inaction towards a relationship, Mike took action against one. And since, it has been his job to undo, and his job to communicate contradictory to his actions that he wants one. Inaction does not require a solution unless it is representative of a problem to be solved. Will's is not. Mike's problem is he takes protective action impulsively when he gets scared that ultimately traps and harms him and others. Mike's problem is not inaction either. If they had stayed silently pining 13 year olds forever it would not have been a character flaw on either of their parts. But Mike took unnecessary - understandable, but unnecessary - action in the eyes of the plot. One can debate whether he did it in December 1983. Or whether he did it in July 1985. Or whether he did it in March 1986 when he ignored Will, because silence is not inaction if it as an active change. But no matter when it became an unnecessary choice,

The ball is in his court because it was never in anyone else's. The ball is in his court because Will never stepped foot on a court. Will isn't playing the game, he didn't pick up a ball. He sat in the stands and watched. In March 1986, he moved to the bench and Jonathan saw him but still, he never stepped foot on the court. He was never playing the game. (Apologies. This isn't a stupid sports game)/ref.

The ball is in Mike's court because as far as actionable plotlines reflecting internal growth go, Mike and Will's relationship is and always has been Mike's plot. Will's is allowing himself to take up space; he's getting closer, and allowing himself to have Mike will be the ultimate demonstration of that, just not its purpose. But Mike's is Will.

[eggiesins]

See Me As I Am

Taking a stab at a Dragon Age drabble. The sad tired templar war criminal has consumed me. Feel free to check it out below the cut or on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59049958

As always, let me know what you think, and I hope y'all enjoy!

“Lace and taffeta?” Leliana asked, incredulous as she took a step toward Josephine. “Are we to send her to the court of Orlais wrapped up like festival candy? What if action is necessary?” She hit her palm with a fist to emphasize the statement.

Josephine nodded smoothly before replying. “The dress restricts movement, yes, but it is in line with current Orlesian fashion and gives us an advantage with the court as soon as she steps inside the Winter Palace. Not to mention, the silhouette of the red uniform would only heighten her short stature and,” Josephine paused, struggling to find the right words. The Inquisitor was already uncomfortable with the conversation, and she would prefer to not further aggravate the situation. “her...distinct curvature. If she is to pass as fully human to play the Game, a properly fitted dress with heels for height would be the best way to mask the more Dwarven features.”

Leoric had long since gone quiet while her two advisors bickered. To be honest, she wasn’t really even listening anymore. Either way, attending a masquerade ball at the Winter Palace to solve an assassination attempt wouldn’t be fun at all. There was no use letting herself get worked up about something as simple as what she would wear, but the loud arguing between Leiliana and Josephine combined with her grumbling stomach and that damned fly that kept buzzing around the council room had her growing ever more agitated. Whether anyone noticed the rapid bouncing of her leg, the way she had chewed her lip to the point of nearly bursting, they said nothing about it. The tension coiled inside her chest, a familiar anxiety and agitation, a build up of nervous energy threatening to overwhelm her any minute now.

“Okay!” Leoric finally shouted as she stood. Leliana and Josephine immediately turned to face her with wide eyes. Even Cullen, who up until this point had started nodding off in a corner, having finished detailing his security plan for the event, jerked back to attention at the sound of Leoric’s shout. She cast him an accusatory glance for his inaction.

Leoric sighed heavily before she continued in a monotone voice. “Look. However you want to dress me for this thing, I’m sure I’ll hate it either way so why not pick something that does both? Is there a way for me to dress ‘prettily’ enough while still having the mobility to defend myself if necessary? Bonus points if the dress comes with a hidden sleeve for a dagger or two.

“Actually, while we’re on the subject, let me clarify. I hate the Great Game, I hate the idea of being stuck in a room full of back-stabbing, stuffy nobles who are all wearing masks, and, oh yeah, might be assassins.” Leoric let the emphasis on the last word hang in the air before continuing. “Either way, it’s going to be miserable. Either way, how I feel about the situation won’t change a damn thing. I didn’t ask to become the Herald of Andraste, didn’t ask for the title of Inquisitor. I didn’t choose to become a symbol for the Inquisition. The person that I am, the real half-human being that I will be after this Breach is closed, none of it matters anymore.”

She watched as her advisors’ faces fell, feeling a little guilty, and more than a little mortified at how vulnerable she was making herself. She had struggled with her loss of identity since the moment she woke up in Haven, suddenly a hero and beacon of hope. It didn’t matter who she was, what she liked, or what she wanted anymore. Leoric no longer mattered, only the Inquisitor, Andraste’s Chosen. But not once had she shared those thoughts with anyone in her inner circle. Even Varric, skeptical snarky Varric, was starting to believe in her divine patronage more than her. It was nerve-wracking, revealing so much, allowing herself to be so afraid and so hollow in front of people she had only known for a few months.

The room was silent now, the fly’s buzzing long since ceased. Leoric only felt the rapid beating of her heart as she turned her gaze around the room, steadfastly refusing to make eye contact with anyone present. She knew if she looked, she would only find concern, pity, possibly even doubt. It was too much.

Leoric’s voice was low and empty when she finally broke the silence. “Who I was, who I am, and who I will be are all null and void as long as the Inquisition exists. History will not remember Leoric. It will remember the Inquisitor. Find a compromise for the dress. I don’t care.” Her tone finally admitted her defeat, her resignation to her role. Leoric turned on her heel and left.

As soon as she heard the heavy thud of the door closing behind her, Leoric picked up her pace. Moving as quickly as she could without seeming manic - wouldn’t want anyone else in Skyhold to start worrying about her -she made her way out to the courtyard. Ignoring the calls of “Inquisitor!” as she rushed, only focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, Leoric finally found herself at the stables.

------------------------------------

Back in the war room, the advisors sat in tense silence. This was the first time Leoric had so openly expressed any resentment toward her duties as Inquisitor.

“Damn it all,” Cullen cursed, shaking his head. How did it take him this long to realize something was wrong? Even Josephine was shocked by the outburst. Was Leoric truly concealing her feelings the entire time? Or had they all fallen into the same trap as the stray pilgrims who wandered into Skyhold, so blinded by the idea of the Inquisitor, that they completely failed to even recognize the person?

“Perhaps a dress with less structure, greater mobility. Yet long enough to wear pants underneath. Orlesian silk might work, though without a bodice and petticoat it wouldn’t exactly be en vogue for the court. But it could convey the necessary decorum without being too upsetting. We might even turn it to our advantage and start a trend.”

“Leliana!” Josephine’s reprimand echoed in the silent chamber. Leliana shot the ambassador a look.

“I understand the Inquisitor’s upset, and it is unfortunate. But, she is also correct. The Inquisition doesn’t need another person to lend it humanity. If the Inquisition is to succeed, if we are to survive this and defeat Corypheus, she must fulfill her duty as Andraste’s Chosen. I care for her the same as you,” Leliana’s tone turned icy and cold. “But I will not let Divine Justinia’s death be in vain. I will not let the sacrifices of everyone here go to waste, all to spare one woman’s feelings. The Inquisitor knows this and accepts it. She does not like it, but she doesn’t need to. As long as Corypheus is defeated and the world stabilized, that is all that matters. For now, our role is to find her suitable attire to play the Game. We do not need to enjoy it, but we must do it because it must be done.”

Josephine’s expression returned to its normal composed neutrality as she heeded Leliana’s words. “We can’t forget the hidden daggers for her...”

Cullen sighed and left to find Leoric.

Leoric struggled to blink back tears of frustration as she saddled her mare. The buckles slipped from her shaky hands, and the stable boys were too terrified to step up and offer their help. Instead, they pretended not to see their Inquisitor’s tear streaked face and resumed their duties in silence.

“They don’t see me. I am not real. They see their symbol of hope and ignore the rest. They won’t remember me when all is said and done, only what I pretend to be. I’m not real. But if I’m not real, how do I still feel so much? Why does it still hurt?” a soft voice, almost a whisper, right over Leoric’s shoulder.

“Damnit Cole!” Leoric nearly jumped out of her skin as the man appeared next to her. She pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath before turning to face him. “Cole, please. Leave my thoughts to me. I need some time to calm down, and I really can’t trust myself to be nice right now.”

Cole placed a gentle hand on her cheek and bent down to kiss her forehead. “I know what it is to not be real, and what it is to be in between. I remember you, Leoric. The writer, daydreamer, the free soul chained down. You are not lost, and, by someone else who remembers, you are found. Healing the hurt will come, and we will remember.”

Just as Leoric reached up to take Cole’s hand, he disappeared. Her hurt turned dull, and tears streamed freely down her cheeks. It was comforting, having someone she could call a friend. Cole lived outside the hierarchy of the Inquisition, outside the culture that had isolated her. Unlike the others, she knew that he, at least, could follow her and not the Inquisitor.

She turned back to finish saddling the mare. The knot of anxiety in her chest calmed somewhat, but all the pent-up energy still demanded release.

-------------------------------

It didn’t take Cullen long to figure out where Leoric had gone. Cursing under his breath, he moved quickly toward the stables, hoping to catch Leoric before she disappeared somewhere alone. When he finally spotted her, he saw the saddle fall from her horse’s back, watched as she kicked the stable door with everything she had. The sunlight drifted through an open slat in the roof, and even from a distance, he could see the wet shine of tears across her cheeks. His chest clenched at the sight and his feet began to carry him toward her. Until Cole appeared, that is.

Cullen quickly pulled himself to a stop as something sickly green twisted in his stomach. She jumped and Cullen’s eye twitched, his hand clenched. Her furrowed brows and tense jaw melted into something softer, closing her eyes as Cole pressed the kiss to her forehead. The green knotted itself more tightly within him, and Cullen was frustrated. He knew he cared for Leoric. By the Maker, she was all he ever thought about these days. He could be in the middle of paperwork, or training fresh recruits and would find himself wondering about her in the field. If she was eating well, getting enough sleep, if she might be cold during those chilly mountain nights. Sometimes his mind would wander further, though he’d never admit it. How prettily she smiled after winning an argument against Dorian, the way her brows furrowed as she worked on a poem, the afternoon light soaking her hair, her hazel eyes glowing like an emerald dipped in honey. He could kiss the tension away from her, just the same as Cole. Better, even. He would kiss her with all the passion he was capable of, hold her tightly to him as he lavished her with his lips and tongue, let her ride him until she couldn’t think well enough to worry at all. He would call her name like a Chant all its own, make sure she always knew that come what may, she was seen and she was loved.

But those were not thoughts a knight should have about his superior officer. There was still a war to be won, and she wasn’t looking, he was sure. There had been light-hearted flirtations here and there, the occasional blush dashing across her features as they spoke. But she already held the weight of the world on her shoulders. The last thing she needed was the additional burden of his heart, his issues on top. Maybe once things were over, there could be something more, but Cullen didn’t give that idea much attention. From what he understood, she intended to return to travelling with her family. She would finish her novel and live her life free of this Inquisition. Free of him.

Free of Cole, too. Cullen allowed himself to indulge in that small comfort at least.

Then, she was alone, turning back to try and saddle her horse again. Cullen approached cautiously, his mind already churning through how he could say what he should say, and none of it seemed good enough.

“Would you like a hand with that, Leoric?” Leoric’s brain froze hearing the commander call her by name. The tenderness in his voice, the worry and concern, she shouldn’t get her hopes up. She took a deep breath, refusing to turn around and let him see her like this. It was unbecoming of the Inquisitor. Her voice went hoarse as she spoke, doing her best to sound calm and collected.

“This...organization lives or dies by the Inquisitor who guides it. Should I ask for help pulling my boots on in the morning too, Commander?” Leoric winced at her tone, harsher than she meant it to be. She knew Cullen meant well, but that didn’t change the fact that, for the time being, she was his boss. He was just another among the many who expected, needed her to be a strong leader, the demigod they had all prayed for. She had acted out of line in the war room. Her emotions got the better of her and she had failed in her role. It had felt so good! But no matter how it felt to finally explode, it had done no real good for the people who needed her to be more.

Leoric gently pressed her knee into the mare’s side as she pulled the saddle belt tight. Large, gloved hands reached around her, holding the buckle steady and giving an extra yank on the belt. Wordlessly, Cullen finished cinching the saddle in place and gave it an experimental tug. Leoric sighed, trying to ignore just how warm he felt wrapped around her, the security of his solidly armored chest against her back. On a good day, the top of her head barely reached his shoulder. Today, she was tiny, wrapped in the smell of fur and leather, sharpening oil and sweat, the closest she had ever been to him. It was both comforting and infuriating. His attention only felt like pity now.

As soon as the saddle was secure, Leoric swiftly mounted the horse. She kept her gaze fixed straight ahead as she spoke.

“I’m going for a ride, Commander. I will be back. Whatever report you have can wait until then. I’d rather review it with a clear head anyway.” Cullen took hold of the horse’s bridle before she could make good on her escape. It hurt, seeing the woman who had once been so animated and full of mirth turned cold and hollow. Had he truly been so blinded by faith to not notice Leoric’s quiet death? Her slow transformation into this empty shell, the face of the Inquisition?

“I, um, well,” Cullen sighed and let go of her horse. Pretty words were not his gift. He steeled himself and spoke with sincerity. “I’d like to join you, if you’ll have me. Been quite some time since I enjoyed a ride myself.”

Leoric made the mistake of looking down at him, his hopeful expression sending a pang of guilt through her chest. She swallowed and dipped her chin in a low nod. “Try and keep up,” she murmured before urging the horse to take off. As she rode toward the main gate her heart raced and her cheeks grew warm. Leoric chastised herself.

---------------------------------

Leoric slowly picked her way down the steep path into the forest, guiding her mount carefully around the sharp rocks and steep drop-offs down the mountainside. Once they made it into the forest and the road flattened back out, Leoric urged the horse into a brisk gallop. The wind raced through her short hair and her thighs were beginning to burn from how tightly she clung to the saddle. It was amazing. She let her mare choose their direction as she basked in how numb the world began to feel. She could hear only the wind rushing past her, could only feel the cold mountain air chilling her lungs and the warm mount beneath her. The trees zipping by them began to blur and fade into the background.

Cullen, for his part, struggled to catch up to her. He was able to prepare a mount of his own quickly enough, but he was far heavier than Leoric and could never hope to outpace her on horseback. He caught up enough to catch sight of her riding ahead of him, almost losing his grip on the reins in the process. Even from this angle, she looked happy, free. She was beautiful. Cullen could spend the rest of the day happily riding behind her just like this.

Leoric’s smile quickly turned to panic as her mare pulled up short at a sudden log in the path, sending her flying over the horse’s head and tumbling across the ground. Her bare arms scraped across the pebbles, she sucked in a tight breath as a branch tore across the back of her thigh, drawing blood. Her shoulders bruised with the impact, and she muttered a quick word of thanks to the Maker that she remembered to secure her head and neck with her hands. As her rolling slowed to a halt, Leoric let out a low groan of pain. She’d been injured far worse during her time with the Inquisition, but now her pride was bruised as well.

“Herald of Andraste,” she wheezed to herself as she struggled to draw breath. “Dead by tumbling from her horse like an idiot.” She coughed and groaned again, curling into herself for a moment, trying to focus on feeling what parts of her had been hurt.

”-ic! Leoric!” Cullen’s worried voice called out.

“Fuck!” Leoric hissed, utterly humiliated. She didn’t think he would actually follow her. Why would anyone go so far out of sheer pity? At some point, the cost outweighed the benefit, right? The approaching hoofbeats grew louder and Leoric struggled to slowly sit up. She could still hear the hoofbeats even as Cullen’s boots hit the ground with a heavy thud, as his armor clinked and clanged against itself in his hurry toward her. He easily swung himself over the log and dropped to his knees by her side.

At once, he was checking her over, his hands running along her arms and torso before cupping her face gently and checking her eyes for any sign of concussion.

“Are you alright?” he asked in a panic. Before Leoric could respond, he pulled her in close and cradled her head into the fur mantle on his chest. “Maker’s Mercy, I saw you get thrown,” his voice began to shake. “You weren’t moving Leoric. If we los-” Cullen cleared his throat and pressed his cheek to the top of her head. “If I lost you, Leoric I don’t- I-“ “Cullen,” Leoric grumbled through a mouth full of fur. As much as she wanted to know how that thought ended, the gash on her thigh was giving her no reprieve. She gently pushed away from his chest and twisted in his lap so he could see the injury. “Fuckin’ tree got me. Sliced open by dead fucking wood.”

Cullen’s heart dropped. Blood poured steadily from the wound, it’s only blockage an array of dirt and pebbles stuck to the surrounding area. Tearing the sash from his waist, he gently lifted her leg to begin wrapping it tightly around her thigh. With every sweep of his hand between her legs, Leoric tensed and her cheeks warmed. Cullen pushed back the excited thoughts that leapt forward with each brush of his fingers across her thigh. Maker have mercy, what is wrong with me? Here he was, patching up the woman he had grown to love, the woman he feared he might have lost for good, and somehow he could not let go of the softness of her thighs despite the strength he knew was there. The pair breathed a sigh of relief as the sash was finally tied off and Cullen stood to retrieve the meager supplies he kept in his saddle.

Leoric couldn’t believe herself. First, she blows up in the war council. Then she fell off her horse in front of the infuriatingly handsome commander and had to be patched up. And now! Now, she wondered what it might be like if said commander’s hand had lingered on her thighs a bit longer or touched her in a whole host of other places. She had a bit of an idea from his pat down, when his fingertips danced along her torso and she couldn’t help but flinch at his touch. He was gentle as he tested for broken bones and bruises, and that gentle touch sent shivers down her spine. She wanted more, and it was terrifying. Cullen had already rejected her back at Haven. He saw a dwarf when he looked at her, and she knew the human blood she did carry would never be enough. She had moved on, mostly, enough to consider him as much of a friend as her subordinate could be. He trusted her as a friend and leader, and she wouldn’t betray that trust.

Cullen returned to her side, medicine kit in hand. He knelt down and passed it to her gingerly, all too aware of the shameful heat rising in his cheeks. Leoric refused to make eye contact, muttering a quick “thank you” as she opened the kit. The tools inside were rudimentary, a needle and spool of gossamer thread, a small flask of fire whiskey, bandages, and shears. She lay down on her side, propped up on an elbow, trying to find a comfortable position to stitch herself up.

“Here,” Cullen murmured, removing his cloak and mantle to prop her up on. “I, um, well, I -can help. With the stitches, I mean. Patched up more than a few soldiers in the field before, and with a mortality rate of only 80 percent.” He laughed weakly at the joke, kicking himself internally. Leoric raised an eyebrow at him and began to laugh, softly at first and then louder until there was almost an edge to it. She calmed herself down and wiped a grimy tear from her eye. She took a long swig from the flask before she sighed in resignation.

“Help yourself, Commander,” her tone was teasing. After the day she had, Leoric didn’t have it in her to give a fuck anymore. This may as well happen now. “Try not to kill me in the process.”

Cullen chucked nervously and tried to force his background thoughts into submission as he began working. The sash had done its job, thank the Maker, and the bleeding had slowed considerably. He wouldn’t have to cauterize the wound after all. He gently picked off any of the larger stones still crusted at the edges, rinsing the rest off with his water skin. Leoric’s brain began to stutter when he slowly removed his belt, chastising herself again when he told her to bite down on it. She did so just in time for Cullen to rinse the gash with whiskey and quickly set to work on the stitches. He worked with care, deft and quick hands guiding the flesh back into place with each tug of the thread, but Leoric still wished he would hurry up and be done. The pain had long since replaced any distractions of pleasure, and she was ready to go home and be done with this awful, humiliating day.

Once she was all patched up, Cullen helped her to stand, catching her when she almost collapsed from dizziness.

“You’ve lost a good bit of blood,” he comforted. “It’ll be safest if you ride back with me. The mare wasn’t injured; she can follow.” Leoric nodded, long past caring about appearances at this point. She let Cullen lift her into the saddle, feeling his familiar warmth against her as he climbed up behind her. His sturdy arms held her up, and she couldn’t help but sink back into him, utterly exhausted.

“Thank you, Cullen,” Leoric broke the comfortable silence as they rode back to the stronghold. “For everything today. I’ve been a complete ass, and you helped me anyway. I’m sorry too. Skyhold shouldn’t see me weak like this. How inspiring is an Inquisitor who falls from her horse and has to be carried back home?”

Cullen took the reins in one hand and held her tighter to him with the other. “You were right, though. We’ve all treated you like just a symbol of Andraste, and idea of a hero. I mean, that’s not to say...” He sighed. “You, Leoric, are very much a hero in your own right. Whether you’re blessed by Andraste or not, it is still you closing the rifts, securing alliances, and fighting against Corypheus. History may not remember Leoric, but I certainly will. I’m sorry, for not realizing sooner how we were making you feel.” His voice softened. “How I was making you feel. Leoric, you are amazing, witty and funny, smart and compassionate. You deserve to be happy, content, wherever that path may take you.”

Leoric did not reply, already lulled to sleep by the gentle rhythm of the horse and Cullen’s warm embrace.

“I may serve the Inquisitor, but it’s Leoric I care for, and that won’t change,” he murmured.

[elcucurucho]

happy midnight everyone I am unwell about qcellbit here’s the essay

I’d argue one of qcellbit’s most defining character traits is his inability to stay passive in a situation. The first thing he did on the island was try to solve the mystery of why they were there so they could escape, and then that shifted to investigating and fighting the federation when it became clear they were a threat to him and his family. A problem comes up, and he takes it upon himself to find a solution.

And that trait has consequences. If he knows a problem exists, he can’t just leave it alone. A lot of the time, he isn’t addressing problems to solve an end game moral goal, or really any goal at all. The idea of a puzzle existing is enough of a reason to try and solve it. It’s just how he operates. He needs to know, and understand, at any cost. Which has fucked him over, time and time again. He’s played directly into the hands of his enemies because he can’t just leave an unsolved mystery alone.

Looking back, I don’t think ambitious is the right word, but he’s been very consistently motivated. Goal oriented. He’s ended up in leadership positions many times, because he doesn’t wait for other people to address problems. He doesn’t rely on others much at all. He’s consistently put himself in tough positions that he wouldn’t put anyone else into, taken risks with his own life and safety so other people won’t. It’s like a very simple flowchart: if I don’t do it, no one will. And if they do, they shouldn’t have had to. It doesn’t even cross his mind that he shouldn’t have to either, because the mission always comes before his personal wellbeing. His life is very low on his list of priorities. He doesn’t think he’s worth much, he doesn’t think people really care about him.

I don’t think that particular mess of insecurity started when he remembered his past, but it definitely didn’t help. His past actions served as more motivation to justify self sacrificial tendencies that already existed. Maybe people care about him now, but if they knew what he was really like, they wouldn’t stay. And he wouldn’t expect them to. More reason for him to be the one to put himself in danger, because he believes it wouldn’t be a loss. It might even be a good thing. Interestingly enough, the concept of simply not putting himself in these situations never even enters the equation. He’s completely convinced that someone has to act. Inaction is not an option.

We’ve seen it most in situations where inaction is demanded of him, first, during the abueloier situation when he tried figuring out necromancy during the period when roier asked for time. And then, most recently when the eggs were missing, and he began killing federation workers. Morality didn’t matter because he already considered himself permanently a monster for his past actions, so returning to violence wouldn’t stain him further. With no answers and no path forward, he took it on himself to make one, because the other option was continue to do nothing; which again, is simply not an option to him.

So what happens when such an active character is confronted with a situation where he personally can do nothing? Where his very inability to act is thrown back in his face? Well, his first instinct is always to try and find a way to act anyway, like in the examples above. The next step is absolute and utter despair. qcellbit isn’t in the business of giving up, almost by definition. It’s almost physically impossible for him. This is a character that’s built his entire sense of self around how useful he is to the cause he is working towards. You put him in a situation where he is truly useless, and he falls apart. Which brings us to where we are now.

It’s been a long road to get here. There have been a lot of small defeats that have led to the despair that seems to passively leak out from qcellbit. The employee of the month spectacle was absolutely devastating to his psyche. And then he got up and immediately started trying to trick the feds again, because he couldn’t just do nothing. He never really got over it, though, he just moved on, because how he feels has never been a priority. The eggs disappear, it’s the same story. He tries, and he tries some more, and none of it works. He learns he has a sister and they lived on the island, making him question if there was ever a point in fighting to leave. He gets the smallest victory over the feds during the mini me event and feels nothing. Because it’s been so drilled in that nothing he do will change anything or have any effect. There’s nothing he can do. And if there’s nothing he can do, then what’s the point of any of it? He has to become the person that can do something, at any cost. It’s the only use he feels he has. Purgatory happens, it’s out of his control and he can do nothing, so he becomes what his team needs. He has to do SOMETHING useful. And at the end of it all, he watches his egg presumably die anyway. So what’s the point of him? qcellbit with no goals, no objective, is exactly what we saw coming out of purgatory and in the tenuously canon purgatory 2 scenes. He doesn’t know how to live for himself.

And now we’re back to quesadilla island. And his egg is back and roier is (as far as he knows) back. And he’s empty. He sees cucurucho and he feels nothing. He has nothing to fight for, nothing to investigate, he’s convinced everyone he loves, everyone who is his literal reason for living was genuinely better off without him. Maybe purgatory was him at his lowest, but we’re still basically there. This is not a character that’s doing better. This is a guy who’s plateaued just above rock bottom and needs to rebuild his sense of self from the ground up.

[allisamemory]

On the Other Side of the Screen (Part 2)

As someone who is a part of three siblings, he felt it’s mandatory to get all of the Fontaine siblings and get them to max level (now crowned, though. Those are for the best of the bests). Only one siblings remained to be brought home.

A.K.A in which an avid player of a certain gacha game contemplates about a “family” that’s on his mind.

(Written before 4.1 hits)

_______________________________________________

He sat in front of his laptop as he stare at the clock.

3… 2… 1.

18:00

In an instant, he immediately open the wishing screen, and lo and behold, Childe is there. Due to his own insistence to be true to the story, he had rid Childe of his artifacts and bow and gave it to Ganyu temporarily. As for his artifacts, he’ll give it to Neuvillette until his artifact luck granted him a good set.

Of course, Childe isn’t happy with this. The Harbinger have been trying to get his attention - how his icon has an exclamation mark, even though there’s no star of the Monoceros Caeli in his inventory that’s inactive.

Choosing to ignore the ginger, he went to Zhongli’s banner, and pull. 63 pulls saved, but he can only do a ten-pull three times until he reached gold.

The purple shooting star streak the sky, and after a few blue stars…

There he is. With his little hat, coat, holding The Bell for some reason even if doesn’t fit his gameplay, and the cute robot penguin…

“Welcome home, Freminet.”

The boy looked around nervously as he opens his character screen and prepare to lose about 80% of his current mora.

_____

“Alright, you two.” He said as he placed Freminet between the magician twins in his teapot. “Starting from today, you three will be in charge of commissions in Fontaine until you three graduated (reached friendship level 10). I already gave Fremmie some directions.” He ended as he waved his cursor on Freminet’s head as a means to headpat him.

“Commissions…?”

“Yeah. You know, go around beating monsters or rogue mechas, testing Antoine’s blimp, and diving underwater- in which that will be Fremmie’s job.”

The three siblings looked at each other as if they were talking to a madman.

“What?”

“That’s it?”

“I mean, yeah. You might have to talk to someone once in a while, but don’t worry. The Traveler will take over if that were to happen. Also, I’ll have one person each day to guide you around so you’ll have a full complete team.” He swirl his cursor as if waving his hand. “Any question?”

“… Activating discussion mode.” Lynette looked up to the screen and calls his name.

“Yeah?”

“Do they know that we are…”

“Oh, don’t worry. They don’t.”

Lyney raised his hand. “But you say that you have two harbingers in your group.”

He nods. “One of them is Tartaglia, but he’s behind bars, so you know. The other one, I can’t disclose. I kept a promise with them to not disclose their identity. No, it’s not Arlecchino. I don’t even know if she’s playable.”

“I see.” Lynette simply says, summoning a cup of tea to her hands.

“… Are you worried that she might…”

All three of them went tense.

“Ah, I guess it’s not surprising that you feel that way. Considering the fate of Signora.” He fell silent for a bit. “And to be fair, I don’t know if I’ll pull for her if she is playable. It comes down to whenever I have enough Fates to call her.”

He’s currently saving for Neuvillette. If the theory of him as the Hydro Dragon is true, then someone like him will be perfect to bring along should Celestia is available. But he’s also an Archon Collector, so Furina is a must…

Wait, why is he even thinking about this.

“We’ll see.”

Whatever happens, happens. This is a motto that solve him a bunch of trouble in his rather troubled and messed up life…

“Besides… Are you guys even happy with how she is?”

That question earns him a confused look from the three.

“… It’s nothing.”

It’s weird, really. He was so used to seeing Lyney being cheerful and being all flashy in the battlefield. Lynette is as calm as ever, but he can feel some sort of tension in the way her tail swish around.

Freminet is doing his scuba helmet idle mode that he swore stays longer than usual.

Of course, they don’t trust him. Who would trust someone who pulled you out of nowhere, claims that the Traveler is his avatar of some sort and told you to do these jobs? They’re not even part of the Adventurer’s Guild.

But they still do it anyway? Is it because they want to trust him? Or is this an effect of being someone from the upper layers of reality?

… He’s thinking about this way too much. “… Alright! Here’s the commission. Let’s see… Where’s that randomizer…”

After doing a bit of a randomizer game, today’s guide will be Fischl, who has her full honor of guiding the newbies to their new side-jobs.

“Follow me, magicians and diver! Our duty in this world does not wait!” They then exited the teapot, a little bit confused, but determined.

He sighed. As he controlled the siblings in battle against a bunch of treasure hoarders, that ninja - Chitose‘s words come to mind.

“Several years ago, a serious clash appears to have occured between the Knave and a certain child at the House of Hearth - this leads to the latter replacing the former. This previous Knave - ‘Teacher’ appears to be using the current Knave’s name to keep a hold of his suboordinates as they act across various nations - his goal at present affiliation, however, are unclear.”

He took a sip of his tea and open his phone while his current team took a small break. He stared at the re-introductions of the three siblings, complete with Fatui background, and read the lines said by Arlecchino as uneasiness growing on his stomach.

Who is she, really? What happened between her and this ‘Teacher’ guy? What did she do about this situation? And, what trouble is she trying to brew in Fontaine?

Is she really trying to stop the Prophecy? Whatever he tried to do, be it reading Lyney’s character story or looking at cute fanarts of her, it still doesn’t clear his mind of his distrust.

“The Knave… Can you really be trusted?”

He shakes his head. As he heard Fischl calling out to him, saying that their break is over, he put his tea on the side and continue “playing”.

_______________________________________________

(Note: this was written before the 4.1 trailer drops and around the time the Fontaine siblings are reintroduced as Fatui, which is why the Player didn’t mention anything about the trailer.)

[hide-in-imagination]

Simón and Ámbar are two very contradicting people and that's why they work so well. I'll elaborate:

Starting with Ámbar, she's someone who seems a lot, but isn't actually that much. With that I mean she seems very happy and in control and determined and like nothing ever gets to her, but as we get to know her, we start seeing she's actually incredibly lonely, comically indecisive when it comes to the simplest things, and has no real idea of who she is and where she belongs beyond striving to be number one at everything (because it's the only way she learned she can be loved.)

Ámbar, due to her childhood trauma with her motherly figure, is very independent, assertive, perfectionist and controlling. With these qualities, people usually go after romantic partners that they can 'control'-- that are subdued, sweet, gentle-- all the things their mothers weren't with them. The problem with that is that then these women can never relax (which is what they truly want deep down) because they are the ones who end up doing all the problem-solving in the relationship, the ones who always take the lead. Therefore, they should actually go after someone with more masculine energy instead.

We could say Ámbar did this by dating Matteo, but the problem is that Matteo was also too independent, perfectionist, and detached from the relationship, so neither of them really developed a deep emotional connection. (Which, let's be honest, neither of them was seeking, so it worked great for them.)

Then we have Simón, who at first glance would fit the 'feminine energy guy' thing perfectly-- He's sweet, gentle, easy-going, he puts other people first, etc.

BUT, turns out, Simón is the very embodiment of "Get yourself a guy who can do both." Because man does this guy can do both.

Simón might be a pacifist at heart, but he will not hesitate to fight for those he cares about, and he will call you out if you mistreat him because he has a very strong definition of what's right and what's wrong, and he will not allow people to purposefully behave badly. He might tend to go with the flow of what other people wanna do, but he is brave enough and independent enough to leave his country and fly across the globe with nothing more than a suitcase and a guitar.

He also has the drive to go after his dreams even when they seem impossible, and he declared his feelings for Luna the moment he realized he had them even when it could endanger their friendship-- He did not stay passive. Even in Season 3 when he was the most passive (aka staring at Ámbar from afar 24/7 but doing nothing about it) this inaction was not due to lack of confidence or drive (after all, he had the confidence to ask her to dance from the very beginning)-- It was because he knew Ámbar was not in the same place as he was. Ámbar at the beginning of Season 3 was having fun playing with Simón, even tried to manipulate him with the feelings he harbored for her more than once-- She was not in an honest place of "I want us to be together." Even later, when she was getting into that mindset, Simón kept his distance but he was clear about what he wanted if she wished to be with him. He had the assertiveness to say "I'm crazy about you, but I'm not gonna play into this if you don't put in some effort."

So what do we have? Someone who is empathetic and kind and chill enough for Ámbar to get that security and love she didn't receive as a child, but also someone who's strong enough, determined enough, and driven enough to allow herself to relax every now and then and let him take the lead of things. Our girl hit the jackpot and I am jealous every day.

By the way, let me just mention, for someone who by all accounts should have an Avoidant Attachment Style, Ámbar sure as hell lets Simón in a lot. This might be because the script needed it, but I wanted to point it out because it's very curious to me. (If you don't know what Avoidant Attachment Style is, you can click here to read about it.) I mean, she went from a superficial relationship with Matteo to basically crying in front of Simón every day-- That's huge! Sure, you could argue that she couldn't help it since she was completely destroyed inside, but even then, I think it speaks very highly of him that Ámbar considered him a safe space to vent to during those tough times. We got another example of that in Season 3 when she was upset after her phone call with Sharon and then Simón walked into the lockers and she hugged him, seeking comfort. It's like she can't stop herself from wanting him to 'catch her', if you know what I mean;) But of course, she didn't want to admit she was that 'weak', so she completely shut him out the next day (the infamous maracuyá juice scene, ugh, don't even remind me, it hurt.)

Anyways, I realize I focused too much on Ámbar's side of things in the relationship instead of what both get out of it, but I already wrote in a post once what Simón gets out of it, so I'll let that speak for itself.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk, I wrote this instead of writing Roads✌🏻