#it's fun so i love it extends to their pasts and how complex they are too

[franeridan]

tbh i think oda meant to reach wano and make it all about zoro the same way he reached whole cake and made it all about sanji. I mean like, at the very beginning, back when he made him japanese and then said "there is a country that's one piece's japan, btw, and that's not where zoro's dojo is" - I think that's why his original backstory is so simple, it was supposed to follow the same trend as luffy's and sanji's and turn into this whole grand thing once they reached wano and discovered that he's the only direct descendant of one of the last daimyo and also of the greatest samurai ever lived, those are great bases to start some form of conflict on? tbh? and also directly mirror our finding out that sanji is some form of prince himself, but then instead we got to wano and the only thing we found out on page was that kuina's relatives were from there, and everything about zoro is revealed in a sbs family tree with oda going "I don't think I'll ever say this in the manga at this point so here". Imho what happened was that oda wanted to form some kind of conflict between zoro's family rights/what was expected of him in wano and his belonging in the crew, but then the way he evolved as a character through the story made it so that his only plausible reaction to finding out all that would be some form or another of I don't care and you don't really write an arc on that, do you. zoro's so simple minded and goal oriented that it's impossible for him to have any serious drama that's not about luffy, at this point. I do prefer it like this, though? everyone in the fandom likes to draw comparisons and parallels between zoro and sanji one way or another but my favourite one is the narrative foils one and zoro's lack of a proper backstory and complications to his being part of the crew make for a great black-and-white situation with them. something like sanji's story being all about running from his past and zoro's being all about running towards his future, I love that so I'm glad this is the zoro we got in the end

still, would be cool to know what oda had planned for him exactly

#zoro and sanji are funnn characters to keep on total opposite sides of the spectrum #you can draw parallels between every aspect of them and the only things you'll find that they have in common are #their love for luffy and their dislike of each other #starting from their personalities to their designs to their fighting styles to the way oda makes them interact with the plot itself #it's fun so i love it extends to their pasts and how complex they are too #but the build up towards wano and figuring out something more about zoro had been pretty obvious for a time so when we got there #and in the end we didn't find out anything about him #and left the land with no on page explanation as for why the shimotsuki guy had zoro's exact same face #no i mean that was kinda funny and on brand for him since the start ngl but it was sorta disappointing for me anyway #as an hardcore zoro fan yk #so I'm like ???? i wonder!!!! what oda had planned!!!! #for my boy who's apparently extremely important in wano but no one has any clue and they just let him leave like he was no one! #they tried to execute him for owning a sword that was his by birthright anyway without ever knowing.......... #no it IS funny that's zoro's brand alright i just mourn the zoro focus we could have had #wano was already long and busy enough tho i get why oda let that go

[gallusrostromegalus]

ok so re: sternritter i gotta ask, whats the plan for my girl gigi? she's a horrible awful gremlin baby but i cannot help but love her immortal tgirl swag.

also, are there any sternritter who got incredibly underused in the story that you've significantly rewritten so far?

As it stands, Gigi gets to live, but she is going to have to sit through a VERY unpleasant lecture about how yes, Gender is Fake, Political Organizations are Fake, and to an extent the 'Line' between living and dead is fake but Bodily Autonomy and Informed Consent are VERY, VERY REAL and you will *fucking* respect them because the Gotei-13 is the home of monsters.

For better or for worse, the person she's getting the lecture from is Tama Nikuya

---

Tama: Sure, you're a Monster too, Miss Gewelle -that's why I like you so much and am even extending you this offer- but I promise there are much worse things serving in the Guard than were dreamt of in your philosophy. Horrors, artificial and natural alike, well within the comprehension of your intellect regardless of gender, but no less awful. Worse, perhaps, because you understand what's going to happen if you put one drop of blood out of line-

Gigi, twitching: Urrgh!

Tama: Don't gurgle at me in that tone! Tama: You do understand, don't you?

(warning for body horror, parasitism, mind/body control, discussions of violence, transphobia and abuse under the cut) (Bleach is a pretty dark series and the Fic is E-rated accordingly)

Gigi, shaking her head as much as she can: Nglk!

Tama: What part don't you understand?

Gigi: Thzzg-? ThhZomg-!?

Tama, head cocked sideways, squinting as she tries to make sense of what Gigi is saying: 'the zog-'? The Zombie? Oh for fucks sake Gigi, we're well past that.

Gigi: Bugh-? Haaauuuu?

Tama: Alright alright, if it will help. The Zombie relies on some of your blood reaching my brain, or replacing a large portion of my own blood with yours, through which you exert your reiki, and thus control my body, right?

Gigi, Blinking Slowly: ... Gigi: Haugh- Haugh gid you vigure thad oud??

Tama, taking a deep, disappointed sigh: Babygirl, it's not that hard. That's very basic Spiritual Dominion magic. Don't get me wrong, you're very good at it and the sheer number of targets you can control is really impressive but as far as techniques go, it's not terribly complex or hard to counter.

Tama, Gestuting at where Gigi is awkwardly kneeling on the floor, paralyzed: Take the thing you've got- that's an enhanced strain of Ophiocordyceps unilateralis- you've heard of Cordyceps, I'm sure- that I've worked with to function inside humans- REAL pain in the ass by the way, Humans are insanely immune to infection and parasitism compared to most organisms-

Akon, holding an extremely large laser gun, not currently cocked but still at the ready: This is your requested reminder to stay on topic, Sir.

Tama: What? Oh, thanks- but Cordyceps is fun because instead of bothering to control the half-assed mess that is a mammal's neural system, it straight-up structurally takes over the large muscle groups! Just suppress the autoimmune response enough by giving the fungus an antihistamine release function too, and that sucker can crawl into every major support structure you have in under a week!

Akon: Yeah, I'm not sure 'Fun' is the right word here.

Tama: Don't knock it until you've tried it!

Akon, debating becoming the server technician for the 9th again: I'll take your word for it, Sir.

Tama, poking Gigi's arm just below where a long spire of the fungus is sprouting out of her shoulder, one of several growing out of her body and impacting her ability to move, including speaking: I'd say you're about 40% Fungus by weight right now, mostly your skeletal muscles, and those do what I say, which is why you're sitting down and listening while I try to change your mind. Tama, giving Gigi an encouraging thumbs up: -And why you still have a mind for me to change! Tama, giving Gigi a comforting pat on the shoulder next to the fungal spire: I have a lot of faith in your ability to make the right choices when presented with all the information, Miss Gewelle. If I thought I had to change your mind for you, I'd have pulled out the Hypomyces lactifluorum!

Gigi, watching Akon visibly shudder behind Tama: ...uhh. Gigi: Bugh. The Zomgee..?

Tama: Oh, right, The Zombie. Yes, yes- Reiki Domination is pretty tough to resist, especially from someone in your spiritual weight class, but, ah- Well, you've run into two big problems here Gigi.

Tama, sitting down on the floor next to Gigi: First problem is the use of blood as an infection mechanism. Tama, cheerfully, as though giving constructive criticism in an introductory art class: Honestly? Not a bad choice! Blood-bourne infections are some of the hardest to resist, and Forigen Reiki is a PAIN to purge from the bloodstream unless you flush the entire system. Most people, as you have seen, are doomed!

Tama, wincing: ...But I'm not most people. Tama, pondering: ... Come to think of it "People" might be a more correct term for what I am, but my situation is pretty radically different from "most" people!

Gigi, still defiant: Whad- Whaddafug ARE yu?

Tama, gesturing to indicate the situation is about as clear as mud, or morphology-based taxonomy: I- Well. It's long and not really all that funny story, but I got stuck on the wrong side of a a version of the Kodoku Bug Thunderdome curse- you know, the inside- for over eight hundred years with a whole mess of Hollows, Obake, and other nasty things and I went to some pretty extreme measures to survive. Tama, with a sad sigh: To make a long story short- I don't have blood anymore. Or a brain. Tama, frowning in contemplation: ...Or I'm ALL brain, it sort of depends on your definition of 'brain'-

Akon: Topic, Sir.

Tama: Thanks Akon! -But from my perspective, your blood is just another snack with a little bit of Reiki spice on top! Which brings me to your other problem.

Tama: You hit hard Gigi! Real hard! And you really should be proud of the degree of concentration you have! But like I said, the Gotei-13 is the home of monsters, and there wasn't exactly a burger joint or an opportunity to farm inside the Kodoku. ...I survived because I kind of literally ate things like you for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

[There is a long moment of silence as Gigi processes that statement, it's earlier compainion statement about what Gigi's blood was like for Tama, and the general implication of those on Gigi's circumstances]

Gigi: ...Gid I daste gud?

Tama, ears flicking up to listen better: What's that?

Gigi: Uck! Gigi, wide eyed with terror but somehow this situation has not ended in catastrophe yet, and she might be riding the adrenaline as far as it will go: ...Gid I datse good?

Tama: HAH!

Akon, turning around because he can't face this at 7AM without coffee: NO!!

Tama, teasing: Yes, you do taste very good, or at least the aperitif of blood you threw in the thing I use as a face did!

Gigi, giggling a bit in fear like a Hyena: Oh! Dhad'z Good! Gigi, stopping as the rest of the sentence catches up with her: Waid. Gigi: Whad Do you MEANg, 'ting you uze az a fage'? Gigi, with increasing horror: Whag- Whag ARE You?

Tama, giving Gigi a light, encouraging punch in the shoulder: You're a smart girl Gigi! You can figure it out if you put your mind to it! Tama, counting off the datapoints on her paw-pads: I don't have blood, or a brain, I lived underground with nothing but corpses to eat for a few centuries and my go-to restraint method is a parasitic...

Gigi, a horrible new world of possibilities opening to her like the lid coming off a tub of very expired sour cream: ...Mu-Mushgroom?

Tama, giving her two thumbs up: You got it! Tama: "Mushroom" is probably more specific than you intended, but you're not wrong! The part of me standing here lecturing you is more or less the organ I use for sex and sometimes paperwork!

Akon: Speaking of, the division W-2's still need to go out-

Tama: Akon, we're in the middle of an apocalypse. If the council tries to make everyone pay taxes on time this year, the Old Man won't have the chance to burn the government chambers down before the peasants do it for him. Chillax.

Tama, returning her attention to Gigi: It's probably why I'm so cheerful and down to party too! You know. Because I'm a *Fungi*!

Gigi, staring blankly: ...

Tama, wilting a bit: -A. Fun? Guy? A Fungi?

Gigi, starting to cry big, ugly genuine tears: Uh-uh-uuuuuhhhnnn...

Tama, trying to console Gigi with a hug that definitely makes things worse: ...You're right it'd probably be funnier if you didn't have a parasitic fungus rapidly taking over your person and forcing you to sit still and listen to a genuine freak of science tell you about Cannibalism. Tama, giving Gigi a little shake of encouragement: But you see how this makes my point, right? This isn't very fun for you, is it?

Gigi, suddenly locking up like a badly taxidermied fox: ...

Tama, staring blankly: ..? Tama, ears slowly rising as understanding dawns on her face: Oh?

Gigi, face rapidly alternating vivid shades of pink and white as her emotions battle for dominance, before settling on 'Scaroused': -Uh...

Tama, delighted: OH!

Akon, enraged: OH. MY GOD.

Tama, pointing at him and hissing: You are the LAST person who gets to kinkshame anyone young man! Tama, pointing back at Gigi: At least SHE knows how to have fun!

Akon: I'm gonna transfer to the Ninth and never, ever leave the server room again.

Tama: If you think you can withstand the emotional toil of leaving the mass spectrometer in my hands, be my guest.

Akon: :(

Gigi: Uh?

Tama: He's spiritually bonded to a particularly finicky piece of lab equipment that hates me, like how some tween girls become spiritually bonded to giant murderous equines, which also tend to hate me. Don't worry about it. Tama: Back on topic, this does explain a few things. You DO understand that your feelings about this situation are unusual and given that most humans and their spiritually powerful derivatives experience pain and fear from having their autonomy restricted and bodies invaded by parasites, How do you think being made into a Zombie feels for other people?

Gigi: ...Bahd?

Tama, nodding enthusiastically and making her ears flop in agreement: That's right! Bad! Tama, settling down a bit more to explain things carefully to Gigi: See, the thing is- even monsters like us need to get along with other people. Tama: I know a lot, but nowhere near enough to enjoy the benefits of civilization all on my own- I don't know how to fix a toilet, or fill out grant applications or stand in the same room as the mass spectrometer without breaking it, so it's really, really good I've got people Akon over there, who like me, who can, and more importantly are willing to do those things for me!

Gigi, annoyed: Gyou woulgnd AVV to-

Tama: hang on, hang on-

[Tama pokes a few points on Gigi's face and throat, using Reiki to disconnect some of the Cordyceps parasite, then pulls the spire that was developing under Gigi's tongue out. It's much larger than it looked, and makes Gigi's throat wiggle as she removes it.]

Tama: Oh hell, that shouldn't have been there. How were you even talking around that thing girl?

[Tama tosses the fungal spire aside and offers Gigi a water bottle. Gigi takes a few sips before nodding and Tama puts it away.

Tama: Okay, try again-

Gigi: Ugh- You wouldn't HAVE to get along with tall, drak and grumpy back there if he was a zombie!

Tama, disappointed: ... Tama, taking another deep sigh: ...Okay, let's say I zombify Akon-

[Akon cocks and aims the Laer Gun, which whines ominously as it charges]

Tama: WHICH I AM NOT GOING TO DO FOR REASONS I'M ABOUT TO ELABORATE ON, PUT THAT DOWN-

[Akon turns off and lowers the lazer gun, still glaring.]

Tama: Thank you. Tama: I know you're still getting used to how most people have conversations, but that was a normal way to discuss a theoretical scenario and not me about to turn you into a Zombie. Do you understand?

Akon: ...Ues, Sir.

Tama: He used to work for an Evil Clown, don't worry about it- Alright, Let's say I was a micromanaging-type moron, and I decided to zombify Akon instead of just getting along with him. I'd lose all his expertise immediately. No more functioning mass spectrometer or bathrooms.

Gigi, haughty: Mine do.

Tama: Pardon?

Gigi: My zombies keep. most of their skills and personality. At least the ones I make out of corpses. Gigi: Akon could still fix the mass-thingie and if you zombify the Grant Committee you don't even have to ASK for funding.

Tama, intrigued: ...Do they? That's good to know, I'll want to hear more about that later-but that still supports my point.

Tama: Alright, HYPOTHETICALLY I Zombify Akon, and the Grant Committee- well now, the person who's choosing when the mass spectrometer gets fixed and who gets grant money I don't need is ME, and I already have WAY too much work to do, I don't have initiative to spare for them! I got stuff I want to do! I can't micromanage everyone, everywhere all the time! Tama: It's literally easier, more efficient and frankly, way, WAY less stressful to just get along with people and live in a society than to try to DIY one out of corpses.

Gigi: ...I guess.

Tama: So that's my question Gigi. Tama: Are you capable of respecting people's bodily autonomy and personal space to get along with them?

Gigi, frowning and biting her lip: ...

Akon: That doesn't sound like a 'Yes'.

Gigi: It's not though. It's not less stressful to just get along with people. Gigi: That's- That's WHY I learned how to make zombies in the first place. I'd. I'd TRY to get along, dammit! But any time I let people make choices, they chose to get up my ass about my name, or cut off all my hair, or send me off to 'camp', or beat the shit out of me, or- or lock me in the mausoleum and leave me to starve instead of just call me my name or admit they had a daughter- Gigi: ... Gigi: So it was- Gigi: -It was easier with bodies. Gigi: Bodies don't insist you're a boy or call you a freak or take you to a 'private institution' to 'help you get better' where they strap electric paddles to your head and run a million volts through you- Gigi: Dead people are SO MUCH EASIER to get along with! They don't think you're a creep! They don't think at all! Gigi: I mean, why should I-? Why should I try to get along with people who have already made up their minds that they're never, ever gonna get along with me??

Akon: ... Akon: ...I mean, you are kind of a creep-

Tama: -AKON!

Akon: Hang on I'm not done! You are a bit of a creep, but it's not the girl thing, it's the zombie thing!

Gigi: Oh, just because you're scared of a dead body-!

Akon: GIRLIE I'VE BEEN DISSECTING CORPSES SINCE BEFORE I COULD TALK I AIN'T FUCKIN' SCARED AND I AIN'T DISAGREEING WITH YOU- YEAH. IT IS EASIER TO TALK TO A CORPSE THAN A PERSON. I SPENT PRETTY MUCH ALL MY ADOLESCENCE IN THE 12TH DIVISION'S MORGUE BECAUSE TALKIN' TO LIVE PEOPLE SCARED THE FUCK OUTTA ME!!

Gigi: WIMP! YOU HAVE NO IDEA-

Akon: NO, I THINK I FUCKIN' DO! Akon: YOU KNOW WHERE URAHARA HIRED ME OUT OF? Akon: PRISON. Akon: I GOT THROWN IN PRISON WHEN I STILL HAD ALL MY BABY TEETH, *JUST* BECAUSE I WAS SO CURIOUS ABOUT BODIES. JUST BECAUSE I MADE PEOPLE UNCOMFORTABLE! PRISON-PRISON! THE MAGGOT'S NEST, WHERE THEY KEEP WAR CRIMINALS AND WORSE! Akon: YEAH, TALKIN' TO LIVE PEOPLE SCARED THE SHIT OUTTA ME, BECAUSE THE LAST TIME I TALKED TO SOMEONE, I LITERALLY GOT SENT TO HELL!

Gigi: -!

Akon: Captain Nikuya is RIGHT, the Gotei-13 is the home of Monsters- and the twelfth has got some of the most freakish and frightening ones of the whole guard! Akon: But I'll take the self-vivisecting, species-transgressing, only-barely-human Monsters any day of the week over the maggot's nest because we're all shamelessly, gloriously monstrous together, and the ONE damn rule of the monster's ball is to ASK before you fuck around with someone's stuff, especially their body. Akon: Not "Don't mess with someone's body", Not "Don't be weird", Not "try to be normal". It's "Be freaks and monsters, but also friends."

Akon: God help me if Nemuri ever finds out, but that's why Mayuri is still in that flask. Most of us have a pretty good idea how to isolate his consciousness again, but they way he- I'd have killed him the week after he took over if I had any idea how.

Akon: That's the rule Gigi. No violating anyone's right to live as they are. Akon: That's the difference between a monster- someone people are scared of just for being how they are- and the kind of FILTH that needs to be scrubbed off the earth. Akon: Do you understand Gigi? Nobody gives a shit if you're a girl on purpose or whatever- Fuck, I can think of a few colleagues who'd put themselves on a list for you to reanimate them when they die no matter how much of them actually comes back. It's overwritin' people's minds and controlling bodies BY FORCE. Akon, putting down the gun and patting his coat for his cigarettes: If I understood you right, that's more or less what people tried to do to you, isn't it? Tell you how to act, who you were, by whatever means necessary?

Gigi: ...fuck you.

Akon: Fuck me yourself, you coward.

Gigi: ... Gigi: So what am I supposed to do when someone gets up in my face again? Smile and play nice? Roll over so they can kick my guts out?

Tama: Oh, no- If they violate the "Don't mess with other people's autonomy" rule, all bets are off! That's why when you tried to murder me and Akon a few minutes ago, I was right to infect you with a parasitic fungus to protect myself and stop you! Tama: In fact, the sooner and harder you react to that shit, the less people will try to cross that line, so if anyone tries to fuck with you, you absolutely can and should make an example of them!

Akon, holding up his cigarette to ask if it's alright, and wating for Tama's nod: -If anyone tried that shit with me I'd absolutely turn them into a living educational exhibit on why people need to have skin, but genuinely? Nobody in soul society gives a shit what's in your pants unless they're your doc or fuckin' you.

Gigi, rolling her eyes: Sure, sure-

Tama, laughing: No! Really! It was a surprise for me too.

Gigi: You're lying to me.

Tama, shrugging: Okay, don't believe me, believe your eyes- Tama, ticking people off on her paw-pads: You saw the peacock earlier, he's a seated officer and Baldy is his Husband. Tama: Their boss is the most rampantly bisexual slut I've ever had the pleasure of meeting and the primary load-bearing member of the captainacy polycule-

Akon, starting to giggle: -Yeah I bet he can bear a lot of loads-

Tama, casually plucking off another fungal spire to half-heartedly throw at him: Oh, and the guy who had this job before me IS pregnant with his second child!

Gigi, incredulous: ...The guy with the stupid hat that looks like off-brand Shaggy from Scooby-Doo? That looks more a beer belly.

[Akon: Loud, Snorting Laughter]

Tama: Okay, you're right, it looks more like a beer gut than a baby right now, but PLEASE don't tell him that- He's in the weepy mood swings phase right now, and won't get his sense of humor back until the third trimester. Tama: We' re all placing bets on when Baby Kegger is gonna be born if you want in on the action.

Gigi, Biting her lip and grimacing: I- I don't-

Tama, taking Gigi's hand: -You know firsthand how weird my body is. I'm not properly male or female- I've got at least 21,837 sexes within me because of the insane way I have to metabolically regulate my body. Tama, shrugging: I'm just female in conversation because language hasn't evolved the 12th-dimensional pronouns I'd need yet. But when I brought this up at a meeting, the only question I got from the old man was if my uniform would need altering. Tama: I mean. It did, but that's because I'm 4'6" and i get all my clothes in the children's section, but I'm still amused that that was the captain-general's polite way of asking if I'd need any accomodations.

Gigi: ...Promise it'll be okay?

Tama: I don't know how the war is going to turn out, but if you help us and stop making zombies, I promise I'll do everything I can to make it okay.

[Gigi manages a weak smile]

Akon, wheezing, and doing a terrible Scooby-Doo impresson: Ruh-roh! Rhe Rexperiments Breached Containment, And Raggy's rust Whadder broke!

[Gigi, snorting and giggling in spite of everything}

Tama: See? Now you're laughing. When was the last time a Zombie made you laugh?

Gigi, sniffling a bit as she giggles: ...never.

Tama: So, are you ready to give an alliance a shot?

Gigi: I- I guess?

Tama: You guess? I can't go to the captain-general with a mere hypothesis.

Gigi: ...Yes. Yes, I'm ready.

Tama, grinning: So you're going to be a good girl and keep your bodily fluids to yourself unless asked?

Gigi, turning bright pink: Y-yes!

Tama: Yes, what?

Gigi, going even redder: Yes, sir!

Tama, patting her head and releasing the hold on the Cordyceps, at least for now: ...Very good girl.

Akon, rolling his eyes: Uuuugh....

Tama, helping Gigi up: Hey! You know damn well that positive re-enforcement-

Akon, hefting his Lazer-Gun back onto his shoulder: -is an important part of interpersonal communication, reward the behavior you want to see yeah, yeah-

[Akon is about to turn to leave when a thought occurs to him and he stops and glares at Gigi]

Akon: ...You DO hit like a fuckin' truck.

Gigi, blushing and twirling her hair: Well, I mean-

Akon, pointing accusingly at Tama: I KNEW IT! YOU'RE NOT RECRUITING HER FOR THE WAR, YOU'RE RECRUITING HER FOR THE SHINIGAMI WOMEN'S ASSOCIATION INTRAMURAL CRICKET TEAM!!

Gigi: -the what?

Tama: And what if I am? It doesn't matter to you- The Shinigami Men's Association couldn't keep their wickets up if their lives depended on it!

Akon: -Call me when Matsumoto-taicho can bat out of the pitch!

Tama: Yeah, the fact that Rangiku and Hiyori both suck at it and you STILL lost by 203 points to us is not actually helping your case here.

Gigi: Is. Is cricket a sport?

Akon: SPORT? Cricket is an entire EVENT! It's a Way of Life! It's the philosphical ideal of-

Tama: Yes. Tama: It's a very silly sport, and his team sucks at it.

Gigi: Ooh! If we all live through this, I can be a cheerleader!

Tama, causing problems on purpose: Yeah!

Akon, sputtering with fury: I- That's- CRICKET DOESN'T HAVE CHEERLEADERS!!

Gigi, pouting with her index fingers pressed together, rocking her hips: -But I wanted to cheer for YOU Mr. Akon!

Akon, freezing like a deer in front of an oncoming 18-wheeler: -! Akon, turning ever-so-slightly-pinkish about the ears: ...I'll think about it.

Gigi, grabbing onto Akon's arm: Yay! Gigi, hanging off Akon and babbling: What are the team colors? Do you think like Majorette uniforms are cuter or something more like a miniskirt and halter-top?

Tama, letting them get a bit ahead of her as she dials the main camp: Anyone on the horn? It's Nikuya.

Nanao, on the other end of the communicator: Status report?

Tama: Good news! I've eliminated an enemy, found us an ally AND a new batter for the team if we all live to see spring training.

#AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #bleach #bleach fanfic #giselle gewelle #Tama Nikuya #Bleach Akon #Help I ship Gigi and Akon now #mind the warnings #long post under the cut

[spacesquidlings]

Thorns

Description: Connecting with family can be wondrous, but it can also cause heartache and strife. And when she's caught in a fight, he saves her

Pairing: Astarion x Female Tav (Aspen)

Warnings: Threats of physical violence

A/N: Although being with family over the holidays is supposed to be full of love and warmth, it very rarely is. I've been lucky the past number of years that my holidays have usually been fun and joyous, and I've looked forward to the parties and gatherings. As I've gotten older though, things have become more and more difficult, and this year especially has been much harder in a lot of ways (I won't bore you all with the details but it's been difficult to say the least). I've simplified this fic a bit so as not to bore anyone with the complexities of a very large extended family unit, and paired it down to feature mentions of a more condensed family. Please forgive me this indulgence, but writing this brought me some comfort and closure after a difficult situation on Christmas eve. I hope it can give someone else even a little bit of comfort and safety and the knowledge that you are loved, and that you are good as you are. Happy holidays you guys I am sending my love <3

****************************************************

Fights happened, that’s just the way families were. At least that’s what she’d been told.

She’d been told a lot of things. That she could be terribly angry, that she was always angry, that she often screamed, that she was always horribly loud, that she could be thorny and sharp. And although she never tried to be a creature of wrath and noise, it seemed that such a beast was forever lurking beneath her skin, waiting to unsheath its claws.

So too had she been told that she could be too much. That she needed to dampen her voice as one extinguished a flame, leaving only smoke to show it had been there at all.

And some of it was true, she was certain. In the back of her mind she knew she could be loud, that she could be a bit much. She would lose herself in her excitement, her passions. The flurry of emotions, as raging as a hurricane, would overtake her. Whether it be in joy or excitement or heartache or anger, she would lose herself, and sometimes it took a steadying hand to bring her back.

She did not have a steadying hand that night.

It had been years since she had seen her family, absconding from their home with the intent to make a life for herself in Baldur’s Gate before being stolen by the mind flayers. She had written letters to them since, but she had settled nicely into her life with Astarion, finding joy and contentment like nothing she had felt before. So it had been ages since she had seen them, so focused was she on the moments of excitement and the moments of repose with her lover.

But with the holidays coming up, she’d wanted to see them. She had wanted to see her family again. She was on good terms with nearly all of them, although there was a strange distance that had grown between herself and her father. Yet that surely would not matter, not when she wanted to see everyone, when she wanted to reconnect and laugh and be in their company once more.

Astarion had obliged, musing about how he’d like to meet the people she had grown up with, and perhaps take a peek at old paintings of her as a child, and look for old beloved toys and books to tease her about later.

So they had sent a letter to her mother, and they had packed their belongings, and they had headed out to the village she had grown up in.

It was not a backwater by any means, but when they first arrived she gazed upon the central market, the rows of quaint houses that skirted the village borders, and felt strange. It was all as familiar to her as a recurring dream, and unknown as an uncharted land unmarked on any map.

It had been her home, but it was not her home any longer. She was a piece of a puzzle that no longer fit, this small world shifting around her absence, filling in the gaps as surely as she had filled in the gaps that had been left in her.

She’d spent the day with Astarion, clutching his hand tightly, the ring that allowed him to walk in the daylight glittering like a star plucked from the night sky on his finger. They’d gone through all of her favourite shops, had paused in restaurants to enjoy some of the foods she hadn’t had in ages, before finally arriving at her parents’ home.

Her heart had fluttered like an injured bird, and she considered turning tail and running. But with Astarion’s hand in hers she felt brave, felt safe as she knocked on the door, as she was greeted by the delighted shouts of her mother, of her siblings, of her grandparents.

The reunion was not without its awkwardness, exacerbated by Astarion delighting in stories of when she’d been in a child, and finding old paintings that had gathered dust of her childhood self. He’d even managed to find his way to her old room, the one she had occupied barely a week before she had first met him.

Laughing, he had wiggled beloved stuffed dolls above her head, teasing her as he pretended to play, eliciting annoyed shouts at first, and then laughter as she’d tickled his sides until he’d conceded.

She’d been able to fall into a comfortable routine with her family, and with her lover at her side. The years of adventuring had not diminished her love for them, nor had it made theirs falter. She no longer fit within the village, but she was still welcomed, still accepted.

Their plan had been to stay for a few weeks, touring the village and some of the larger cities nearby, and catching up with family and old friends. Most days Aspen and Astarion would spend their mornings together, Astarion lying on her chest like a weighted blanket, murmuring that he was too comfortable to move even as the sun made its way across the sky. Then they would dress, invite one of her siblings or her mother along with them, and they would head out into the world.

In the evenings they would return, and he would roll up his sleeves and offer to help with the cooking and cleaning her mother often did. It added to the strange delightfulness of everything, Astarion offering to do something he had often whined about at length when their relationship was still new as spring blooms.

It felt almost blissful, a strange sort of dream she found herself walking in. A scrap of domesticity, a glimpse into what life with him would be like if they ever settled down. If they ever decided to put down roots.

But as much as those days warmed Aspen’s heart, they could not last. It was all too good to be true, the softest, most magical part of the dream right before she awoke. The calm before the rage of a storm.

She loved her family, so entirely she did not always have the words to explain it. But as much as she loved them, they frustrated her beyond belief, beyond words or understanding. The little words that cut like a knife into her heart, picking at her life, at her interests and hobbies, at her choices.

The only difference now was that she no longer wandered her family’s home and the village roads with open wounds, dripping blood into the snow-covered cobblestones. When they wounded her with sharpened words, Astarion was there to stitch her back together, to hold her until the tightness in her chest began to loosen, knots coming undone.

There was never any true malice behind their words and actions, but that did not mean that it hurt her any less.

She loved them, but they frustrated her. The more time she spent with them the more things weighed her down, the more things chipped away at her confidence, at the slivers of courage she had found travelling Faerûn, at her own heart. She could feel parts of herself fading away, withering like flowers in a storm, like dying leaves falling from ashen branches.

Aspen was reminded of how difficult family could be, and none were more difficult than the man who called himself her father.

Just as surely as she’d been told she could be too much, she’d been told she needed to be careful around this man. To dance delicately around things that triggered his rage, to tiptoe through a field of eggshells to ensure nothing cracked.

But Aspen was not a rogue, not like her beloved, able to slink silently through shadows, able to dance through fields of fire, able to whisper honeyed words that calmed most people before aggravation could explode.

How could she, when there was a monster beneath her skin? And though she’d thought it finally tamed, it returned in a fury easily, far too easily for her liking.

It was a night when Astarion was not with her, when they were a hairsbreadth from the holidays and she was helping to cook and bake. Grating cheese and chopping veggies, measuring out chocolate and stirring batter.

Astarion had slipped out earlier in search of something he would not divulge. He would only grin in mischief, tap her nose playfully, and promise he wouldn’t be out too late.

And without him nearby, she’d had nothing but her songs and stories to while away her time with. So she had volunteered to help cook and bake with her mother, taking part in what had been a little tradition between the two of them when she’d still lived with her family.

Things had gone well enough, and they’d successfully prepared many treats for the holidays and the revelry everyone would be taking part in.

It had come as a surprise when her father had entered, forcing his way into their comfortable space. He’d started doing something else entirely, plates and bowls clashing in a discordant clattering that had her ears ringing.

Although her ire had been stoked initially, she’d had no reason to pay it any heed. What he was doing was no crime, and her mother was forever asking her to strengthen the bonds between the two of them, to close the strange chasm separating them that neither was ever able to fully cross.

And it had been fine, at first. Casual conversation shared between the three of them, her younger siblings having retired to bed already, and Astarion still lost to the night and whatever wicked surprise he was searching for.

But then it had been not fine, and too late did Aspen realize the claws of the monster in her blood had come out.

Her voice raised, her heart thundering in her chest, a plea to be listened to, to be seen and understood as the adult she had become. That she was not a fool, that the aches in her heart for things he refused to believe were valid, were just, if only he would listen.

They’d had many shouting matches in the past, leaving open wounds that had pushed them further apart the older she grew. So when his voice rose she’d thought perhaps it would be the same as the others, words thrown like rocks back and forth until it fizzled out.

But she’d said that he’d been talking down to her, that he’d been talking to her like she were clueless, a child.

And that apparently, was too far.

The escalation was abrupt. Sudden movement, the man squaring his shoulders to seem larger as spit had flown from his mouth as his voice had risen further. His words had turned cruel, derogatory. How stupid she was, how childish, how she was no adult and spoke like a fool, and words so much crueler that had made her eyes burn.

He paced, shouting loud enough to rattle the ceiling. And she had raised her voice in kind, shrieking now, shrill and enraged at him, at herself for being hurt, for thinking they could mend the rift between them.

And then the threat, a threat heavy with certainty. That he would hit her for her impertinence if she did not stop.

Hit her as a parent hit a child, beat her as a parent who did not know how to navigate their emotions beat a child that misbehaved.

Red had filled her vision, her heart as good as stopped for she could no longer feel it. Her blood had boiled and she had flung her anger back at him, a furious reaction to such a threat.

Her mother had promised he would never hurt her, but her mother seemed oblivious to the times he had, when she’d been little. No more than a parent punishing a child, keeping a troublemaker in line. But she remembered the sharp pain, she remembered the stark cold of the tub, she remembered the acrid taste of soap and the way she had heaved as she’d been forced forward.

Not many times, but enough to burn themselves in her memory, enough that she shrunk whenever a man’s voice was raised. Enough that she shook despite her best efforts when senseless rage was directed at her.

Such a threat was not something she would abide. Not now, not anymore. She was no defenseless child, she had lived, she would not be threatened in a place she was meant to be safe.

She said as much, thinking she was safe.

But she was not. He moved swiftly, looming over her like a monster, so close his forehead pressed against hers. Spit flew into her face, her ears rang, as he screamed and screamed, deep rage like that of the flames of Avernus, directed at her, so close she could smell nothing but the rankness of his breath.

She screamed in return, demanding he move, to get away. But he did not, still pouring his fury against her.

In the back of her mind fear sprung forth, slick and oily as disease. Her body trembled, not that she noticed, and she knew, deep within herself, that he was nearing his limit. That he would hurt her if she did not keep pushing.

But how could she not? Until he used those damned ears to listen, to acknowledge she was not some thing he could use as he pleased.

She tensed in anticipation, knowing the blow would come sooner rather than later.

But what she did not expect was the new shout that erupted behind her father, a figure blocked from her view from the hulking mass of the man who had pressed his face into hers and would not move.

Astarion dug his fingers into the collar of the man’s shirt, yanking him back.

He stumbled, whirling on Astarion, hand raised.

And Astarion bared his teeth, a knife pointed at the man’s throat.

“Make one move and I slit your throat.”

A snort, over-confident and haughty. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Another flash of Astarion’s fangs, his eyes seeming to brighten to a bloody crimson. “I would hate to waste warm blood, but in this case I could make an exception.”

Wild eyes turned to her, fists clenching as hands fell to his sides. “What kind of monster have you brought into our home?”

“Eyes on me,” Astarion cooed, deadly soft. “Lower those hands and go somewhere to cool off and I won’t spill any blood.”

The man swore, shooting Aspen one more murderous look before stalking away, muscles tensed like he was still looking to fight.

Astarion sheathed his knife, a ferocious predator for only a moment longer before he turned to her. His eyes softened then, his lips murmuring soft words as he moved towards her, catching her shaking body before she could fall over.

“You’re alright, darling,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her brow. “You’re safe. You’re safe.”

Tears burned, but they did not fall. She was shivering like a dying tree in a windstorm, and she clutched at him, words choked by the sob that was lodged in her throat.

“Let’s find somewhere for you to sit down, shall we?” He guided her to the kitchen table, settled her into one of the chairs.

In the aftermath, as the fury leached from her skin, she felt cold. Cold as a winter’s night, cold as the darkest moments of a snow-storm, cold as the frozen lake at the border of the village, drowning in the darkened waters.

It was only then that her mother stepped forward, having seemed to have disappeared during the fight. She’d nearly forgotten she’d been there, helping her to bake before everything had unravelled.

“You know you’re both just so similar,” her mother said, letting out a breathy laugh. There was no humour in the sound, and her expression was pinched.

Astarion turned to peer at her mother over his shoulder, his expression inscrutable. “Excuse me?”

She shrugged, wringing her hands. “They provoke each other so much. And you know you did start it, Aspen. You know that’s a trigger for him.”

Astarion leaned back as though he’d been slapped. He blinked, not seeming to understand what he’d just heard. “What do you mean?”

Her mother didn’t hear the edge to his tone, but Aspen did, just as she saw the twitch of his brow, the slight downturn of his lips.

“She should have just agreed to disagree, that’s all.” Another shrug. “What he did was unacceptable, and he shouldn’t have acted like that. But you know you can be just like that, too.”

At her mother’s words Aspen shuddered, for an entirely new reason this time.

She knew of the creature beneath her skin, knew she had to keep it in check, but never had she felt like such a monster as she did now. Her mother softly berating her for provoking the man supposed to be her father.

She could feel it in her veins, roiling like the rage of a storming sea. The monster in her blood, the one that used her skin.

Had she minded her tongue this would not have happened, had she minded her tongue they would still be joyfully cooking, and Astarion would not have had to reveal his vampirism to her parents.

As her mother came forward to comfort her as well tears began to spill, streaking down her cheeks in rivers of flame.

She hardly noticed through the silver blur the room around her drowned in from her tears, the way Astarion’s expression tightened. She didn’t even notice the way his hands tightened on her shoulders, giving her mother almost no room to kneel beside her.

She wanted to cry to her mother, to be comforted, to be told it was not her fault.

But it was her fault, wasn’t it? A horrible monster ruining the holidays, ruining their family gathering on the eve of their celebrations. Ruining things just as she always did, tearing apart the delicate happiness that had been in the air.

“Absolutely not.”

The sharpness in Astarion’s tone made Aspen look up, searching for his eyes in the haze of tears. She made to wipe her eyes, but he gently pushed her hands away, the pads of his thumbs soft as they gently brushed away her tears.

She sniffed, her throat raw as she spoke. “What are you talking about?”

“I will not stand for such slander,” he said, gentle, but firm. “I will not allow for you to be slandered after such a threat.”

Her mother shot Astarion an incredulous look. “That’s hardly fair, and I don’t appreciate you sticking your nose in our business. He’s her father, he would never hurt her.”

“Wouldn’t he?” Astarion sounded eerily calm, his brow arching in bemusement. “Because that looked quite aggressive. That looked like someone on the verge of hitting someone else.”

Her mother opened her mouth to retort, but Astarion stood suddenly, cutting her off.

“No, this is not acceptable.” He offered Aspen his hand, his expression softening for half a breath until he returned his gaze to her mother. “From what I saw he nearly hurt her. He threatened to hurt her. And while my beloved can handle much, being threatened by her own father is not something she should never tolerate.”

His gaze was sharp as he gave her mother a once over. “Nor should she tolerate such nonsense from her mother.”

“You weren’t here at the beginning of the argument, you didn’t hear-”

“No, you’re right.” He cut her off, no humour in his smirk. “But I know her well, so I can guess well enough what happened. And raising her voice and saying a thoughtless comment does not deserve such a response.” Then, quieter. “Nothing does.”

Wordlessly, Aspen took his hand. He drew her to her feet, wrapping his arm around her waist. “We’re leaving, darling.”

Her legs shook, and she feared her knees would give out on her soon. “Where?”

“We’ll find an inn for the night,” he said, not sparing her mother a second glance. “Then we’ll head back to Baldur’s Gate at first light.”

Her mother got to her feet, regret in her eyes. “But the holidays start tomorrow, and we planned-”

Astarion’s response was a snarl. “You stood by and did nothing. You didn’t want to choose a side, but you did all the same.”

They packed quickly, Aspen in such a daze that Astarion packed her things for her, murmuring softly that she was okay, that she was safe, that he would make sure she was always safe.

It wasn’t until they had headed into the night, until they’d checked into the first inn they found, until Astarion guided her to the rickety bed and she fell back, that she truly began to sob.

“It’s alright,” he murmured, taking her into his arms. He tucked her head against his shoulder, not making a comment as she stained the fine fabric with snot and tears. “You’re safe.”

“I’m sorry!” She cried, squeezing her eyes shut against the pain, hands finding his shirt, balling the fabric up in her fists. “I’m sorry! I ruin everything!”

“Nonsense,” he breathed, smoothing her hair back from her face. “You don’t ruin anything.”

“Yes I do!” Her voice was a shrill shriek, and she nearly doubled over from the force of the sudden sobs that ripped from her throat. “I ruin everything. I ruin every friendship, I ruin my family’s happiness, one day I’ll ruin this.”

She pressed her face against his shoulder, her sobs muffled, if only barely. “I’m a monster. I’m a horrid beast, always so angry and I can’t even stop it. I can’t stop myself!”

“Aspen.” The steadiness of his voice gave her pause. He kept his voice soft, but there was a firmness to it, like iron, that quieted her cries.

“Aspen, darling, look at me.”

She sniffed, shaking her head. “I look horrible.”

A soft chuckle, his fingers running through her hair. “I don’t think that’s even possible, my love. Even drenched in gore you are beautiful. A few tears and snot will hardly stifle your beauty.”

She pulled away then, fixing a glower to her face. “Are you sure about that?”

He smiled, cupping her cheeks with such gentleness that a soft gasp escaped her lips. Did she deserve tenderness? Did she deserve even a scrap of his affection when she was a beast? When she would hurt him as surely as she hurt her father, her family?

“You are radiant,” he said, no sign of teasing in his eyes. “Beautiful as always.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. The screaming, the rage, being whisked away so late at night. “Astarion, you just watched me scream my lungs out at my father and then sob so hard I’m pretty sure I bruised my ribs.”

He tapped her cheek, his brow arching. “Don’t forget staining my shirt, too. This was silk, you know.”

“Oh Astarion, I’m so sorry.” The tears began all over again, spilling like she might drown in her misery. “I’ve ruined everything.”

“Darling, darling,” he clicked his tongue softly, brushing her tears away as he stroked her cheeks. “You have not ruined anything, and you are no monster.”

“But I-”

“Hush.” He could have spoken sharply, but his tone was whisper soft. His brows drew together, his lips tilting down. “You are not to blame.”

How did she explain to him? How did she explain the monster in her body, the beast beneath her skin?

“You don’t understand.” Her voice wobbled, thick and rough from tears and screaming and the sobs still caught in her throat.

He was being so soft, so gentle in the face of the catastrophe made flesh that she was. “Then help me to understand, my love.”

Her bottom lip quivered and she drew in deep breaths, her nose clogged with snot. “I ruin everything, I make a mess of everything. I push him too far, trigger him and make him angry. I don’t even try to, I don’t look for a fight but everyone tells me I do. I’m told I’m too loud, I’m too angry, and I don’t even know I am until it’s too late. I’ve ruined my most precious relationships, I ruined the holiday by making my father mad.”

Astarion listened quietly, brushing away her tears as they fell, until they had all spilled, and there was nothing but dried salt on her cheeks.

When she was done pouring out her fears, her terror of what she could be, he nodded, silent still. She wished he would speak, was desperate for him to say something.

Maybe he would push her away, tell her that he had made a mistake, that she was not who he’d thought she was. Maybe he would tell her that she truly was a beast just as she thought.

But what he did surprised her more.

He drew her face close, brought his lips to the corner of hers.

“You are no monster,” he said, soft as a lullaby. “You can be loud, and you can be a bit overzealous.”

At that he smirked, tapping her cheek. “But a monster you are not. If you’re truly scared, then when we return home we can find someone to help, so that what you feel is truly tamed.”

She sniffed, pulling at his shirt. “But I ruin so many things! What happens when I ruin us?”

He rolled his eyes, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear. “My love, you have not ruined anything. You’ve told me of those friendships, and it sounds like those people were rotten from the start.”

“But what about-”

He brought a finger to her lips, silencing her.

“My love,” he murmured, exasperation in his sigh. “I’ve held my tongue far longer than I’ve cared to tonight. Let me speak.”

She nodded, wilting, and he withdrew his hand.

“You did not ruin the holidays for your family either,” he continued, cupping her face again. “Your father had no business reacting that way, no matter what. As much as I delight in a little violence, there is nothing that anyone could have said that would deserve such a response.”

She sniffled again, wiping at her nose as she felt snot dribble out. She looked disgusting, she was sure, and yet Astarion had insisted she was beautiful. How strange he could be.

“If anything was ruined, it was because of him,” he said, kissing her cheek again. “He should learn to control himself, and he was very lucky that I have so much self control.”

At that Aspen couldn’t help giggling, memories of all the times Astarion could not help himself brimming in her mind. But she held her tongue, not wanting to cut him off, not when he was being sweet as spun sugar.

“And you will not ruin us,” he said at last, firm, unwavering. “I want you, I want every part of you. Even your thorns.”

“Thorns?” She furrowed her brow. “Am I a flower to you?”

He grinned, twirling her hair around his finger. “The most beautiful and rarest of all flowers. But I don’t mind the thorns.” His smile grew, fangs catching the light as they came into view. “I’d let you prick me if it meant getting to stay with you.”

“I would never prick you,” she cried, horrified at the idea of hurting him. “I would never ever hurt you. At least not intentionally.”

His smile softened, and he brought his lips to her chest, above where her heart thrummed, finally beating a steady rhythm once more. “See? You have a sweet heart, you are no monster.”

“But-”

“No buts,” he interrupted. “I have met monsters, my love, and you are not one.”

He sighed, releasing the tendril of hair he’d been toying with. “And I plan to stay at your side for a long, long time. So long as you’ll have me.”

Her heart, a poor fractured thing, ached from his words. She felt like she were splintered glass, and she would shatter at any moment now. The only thing holding her together was Astarion’s hands, keeping her in the moment.

“I want you to stay with me,” she said, her voice soft as breath. “I want you to always stay with me.”

“Then I shall.”

Astarion’s arms slid around her waist, drawing her close. Aspen could think of nothing else to say, so instead she curled against his chest, feeling like she might fall apart at any moment now.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, murmuring softly into her hair. “You’re safe. I will keep you safe, my love.”

Although her trembling had stopped, it still took her a long while to truly settle. Her mind could not seem to rest, and it took Astarion singing her favourite songs off-key and reading from one of the books she’d packed for their trip for her mind to finally ease.

He was patient with her as she clung to him, murmuring soft praises, whispering that she was good, that he loved her. He sang and read to her, he stroked her hair, rubbed gentle circles into her back.

A stray sob would slip from between her lips every few moments, and she would absently wipe her nose on the back of her sleeve before nestling closer again. Astarion would press another kiss to her brow, her temple, his arms tightening around her, with every sob that escaped.

And slowly, so painfully slowly it might have taken her a century, she finally began to feel… She wasn’t sure entirely, but it was safer, comforted.

Not entirely better, but it was a start.

“I feel tired,” she murmured against his chest, her tears finally dried up, the last of her sobs lost to the night.

The shadows had grown so long, deepening until there was no light keeping them at bay but for the candles they had lit in their room.

“Why don’t we get you into a bath,” he suggested, tipping her head back until their eyes met. “You always like that.”

“I do…” She trailed off, even the miniscule effort needed to summon words to her lips exhausting her. “But it’s so late, and I feel so tired.”

“Leave it to me,” he murmured, smoothing back her hair.

Things were a blur after that, fatigue rushing through her all at once. Astarion carrying her to the bath, gently settling her into the steaming water like she were a delicate, precious thing. His fingers running through her hair, massaging soap and scented oils into her skin. His lips over her skin, scattering kisses in the wake of his hands as he rinsed the suds from her body.

When he was done he stepped free from the water first so he could help her out, holding her hands as she climbed over the high lip of the tub. He wrapped her in a soft towel, half-carrying her back into their room to help her dress and comb her hair.

Astarion’s lithe fingers twisted her hair into twin braids that fell down her back, much longer than she usually kept it. She made a comment to him that she would need to get it cut when they returned, and he pressed his lips to the nape of her neck, promising he would make an appointment for her with their favourite hairdresser.

“And then perhaps we can spend the rest of the day out,” he suggested as he helped her into bed, going so far to fluff the pillows, spoiling her like she were a princess in a fairytale.

“We can pick out some new fabrics, perhaps commission some new clothes,” he continued, brow quirked as he grinned. “You can never have too many new gowns, especially now that we’ve started getting invited to parties. And-” He let the final word hang in the air, quivering like a music note held at the climax of a song.

“And?”

“And I love seeing you in pretty things.”

She held out her arms, wanting him to hold her even now. He’d had his hands on her for hours now, her fingers wrinkled from how long they’d spent in the bath. But it was not enough, and she wanted to be held still.

Astarion obliged, lying beside her and drawing her into his arms. She tucked her head beneath his chin, breathing in the smell of bergamot and rosemary, and the faint smell of her own favourite perfumes and soaps, lavender and rose and the touch of citrus.

“Could we go to the bookstore, too?” She asked, yawning as he trailed his fingers down the back of her neck.

“We can go wherever you would like,” he promised. “But first you must sleep, my love. We’ll make the trek back home tomorrow when you wake.”

He didn’t have to tell her twice, and she quickly fell into a dreamless sleep, safe in his arms.

The morning came far too soon, but Astarion let her sleep late, until the sunlight was a golden glow that seeped through the curtains of their room and breakfast had long since passed.

They didn’t take the time to bid anyone a proper farewell, instead heading for the winding road that would lead them home.

Aspen didn’t anticipate spending her favourite holiday travelling on the road, but she found she did not mind. Even when silence blanketed the both of them, she was comforted in his presence. Astarion could be melodramatic, petulant, and overly confident. But he also showed her gentleness, kindness, an affection that warmed her like the gentle flicker of candle flames.

He took care of her as surely as she took care of him, and as eagerly as she had accepted him for all his virtues and flaws, so he had with her. Perhaps more so, because she’d kept them quiet for as long as she could, and she was certain anyone else would have left her in the cold for such deception.

The winds picked up as they travelled, reaching frozen fingers into her hair, tearing at her cloak and skirts. She tugged her hood over her head, although it did little as the wind snatched her hood back, tearing it from her head.

Astarion snickered, sliding a hand to her cheek. “I have to admit I am glad that your face is not hidden by your hood.”

“Astarion, I’m cold,” she whined, not caring how her voice pitched high, joining the keening of the freezing winds.

A roll of his eyes, followed by a delicate kiss to her cheek. “Here, I have an idea of what can help.”

He draped the side of his cloak over her, his arm slipping around her waist.

“Won’t this make walking hard?” She asked, turning to him. He was close now, his breath ghosting against her cheek.

“I don’t mind,” he said, his voice a warm tenor that caressed her skin like a kiss. “I’ll take any excuse to be closer to you, darling.”

She sighed, but it wasn’t sad, or even bittersweet. It felt the precursor to a laugh, that promised delight would follow in its wake. “You’re so sweet, did you know that?”

“I did,” he said, doing a poor job of trying not to preen. “But it sounds best when it comes from your lips.”

Now she did laugh, and there really was a little happiness in it, soft as the laughter was, freshly fallen snow that filled the world with glitter. “I’ll have to say it more, then.”

“I’ll hold you to that, my love.”

Walking as they did, Astarion’s cloak wrapped around her, slowed them down considerably, but they still made good time, and as the sun sank beneath the horizon, setting the slate-grey of the sky ablaze in fiery red and burning oranges, they arrived back in Baldur’s Gate.

The feeling she felt as they hurried through the streets, fatigue heavy in their bones, was something entirely different from when they’d arrived in her childhood home.

There she had felt like a piece that no longer fit, accepted but not entirely right. She had ignored it, because that had been where she’d grown up. That had been her home, it was where her family lived still.

But stumbling through the streets, thinking of the warmth of her own home, the heat of a bath, the crackle of a fire stoked high, and all the snacks in the cupboards of their kitchen, she felt something click into place.

The bustle of this city, that bakery she loved to visit, the darkened storefront of their favourite tailor, the merry lights and open doors of the bookstore that sold warm drinks in the winter months. All the parts of the city she hadn’t yet seen, so occupied were they both with travelling, adventuring to different lands.

This felt right. Being here felt right. She didn’t feel like a misplaced puzzle piece, a lost toy that did not match with the rest of the set. She didn’t feel like a puzzle piece at all, something that had to match everything that surrounded it.

She felt whole, she felt like she belonged, felt like she was home.

The wind had not let up since earlier that day, heavy storm-clouds chasing in their wake. As they walked up the steps to their home, windows dark and curtains drawn, waiting for them to bring life back into the empty building, she felt something cold touch her cheek.

She looked up, beamed at the flurry of white swirling through the air, caught up in the ice of the wind.

“Astarion, look,” she murmured, pointing skyward. “It’s snowing.”

He paused, barely a foot from their door, to gaze up at the sky, a soft smile beginning to stretch across his face. “So it is.”

He gave her hand a tug, attention already sliding from the snow and back to the promise of warmth and comfort only a foot away. But Aspen found herself frozen in place, staring up at the snowflakes cascading to the ground. Like the sky itself had opened up in welcome of her returning, of her finding somewhere she was safe.

As Astarion tugged her harder she obliged, following him into the house, the door closing with a soft click behind them. It blocked the snow from sight, but still she could see it in her mind’s eye, swirling in an ivory ballet overhead, covering the world in a pallid pearlescence, wiping away the stain that had grown from the day behind them.

She shivered, snapping back to the present as Astarion’s cool fingers glided over her cheeks, his voice teasing as he commented on how flushed she looked.

They helped each other with their cloaks, tossed their packs to the side to be emptied once they were properly warmed. All the while Aspen’s eyes flitted over their home, the familiar shapes of the furniture, the familiar smell of the cleaners and soaps and candles they preferred, the familiar twists and turns of the halls and stairways.

Astarion’s arms slipped around her waist, his chin perching on her shoulder. “What are you thinking of, darling? You’ve hardly said more than a few words.”

She leaned into his embrace, covering her hands with his. “I’m just thinking that something felt strange when we’d gone to visit my family. And that something feels right now that we’re back.”

He peeled away from her, giving her an amused smile. “Of course something feels right, my love. We’re home.”

Home.

She’d known she was coming home as she’d stepped into the city once more, the word seemed to hold a different weight now.

Home, where she had chosen to lay down her heart, where she had chosen to share space with the person most precious to her. Where she was safe.

She smiled, turning around to draw him into an embrace, pressing her face into his shoulder, breathing in the smell of pine and cold winds, and the smell of his perfumes that he so loved.

“You’re right,” she said, her words partially muffled as she nestled closer. “It feels better because I’m home.”

Astarion snorted, but she could imagine the tender smile curling over his lips like a crescent moon shining silver in the sky. He ran a hand over her hair, fingers toying with the soft baby curls at the nape of her neck. “You’re safe here. You’re safe with me, my love. I swear it.”

“I know.” Tears pricked at her eyes as she held him tighter.

“I will never hurt you, I will never raise a hand to you, or even threaten to do so.”

She clung to him, as surely as his perfumes clung to his skin, even a hint of their smell giving her comfort. “I know, Astarion. I’m not afraid of you.”

“I only want you to know,” he murmured, lowering his head until it rested against hers. “I want you to know that you’re safe. I’ll make sure you’re always safe.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, a futile attempt to stop the flow of the tears that slipped from the corners of her eyes. “Astarion, you’re making me cry.”

He clicked his tongue, stroking the back of her neck. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, my dear.”

“Too late.”

A sigh, a kiss to the top of her head. “Then allow me to make it up to you, darling.”

She sank further into his embrace, listening to the slowed beat of his heart. Her love, her shining star.

“I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so much.”

A moment of silence, the slow rhythm, of his heart seeming to stammer for a moment, beat a little faster. “And I love you.”

Aspen would have been content to stay there for the rest of the night, wrapped in his arms. But Astarion clearly had other plans, and after a few moments he pulled away, tapping her cheek playfully when she pouted.

“Don’t look at me like that, darling. I want to clean up and change into something warmer.” He sighed, taking her hands and running his thumbs over the backs of them. “And I want you to change into something warmer too, before you turn entirely to ice.”

“If I turned to ice would you find a way to rescue me?” She gave him a sly smile, a glimmer of mischief in her heart.

“Without a doubt,” he said, eyes bright with devilry. “Although I might have to tell you that I told you so, since if you turned to ice it would be because you ignored my request to warm up.”

“Well then I’ll make sure to heed your advice,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to upset you.”

He patted her hand. “An excellent choice, my love.”

She squeezed his hand, unwilling yet to let go. “Would you help me? I still feel so tired, and I would like to stay close, if you’ll allow me.”

Sorrow flashed in his eyes, the mischief in his smile softening. “Of course, my love. You need only ask.”

“And then we can mull that wine we bought before we left.”

He chuckled, tugging her from the entry, deeper into the heart of their home. “We can. But you’ll have to keep your wits about you, my darling, because I still have that surprise I had prepared for you before that little scuffle.”

She frowned, only now remembering that he’d vanished in search of something he would not tell her about just before the fight had begun. “What is it?”

He shot her a roguish grin. “You’ll just have to wait and see, darling.”

He was teasing her, and while normally she would at least pretend to get upset, in this moment all she could do was smile and laugh. There was no tension in the air, no fear of shattering eggshells beneath her feet.

Astarion accepted her, all of her, and he would not rage against her for saying the wrong thing, for being too loud. He loved her as she was, thorns and all.

They spent the evening together, and she fell asleep tangled in his arms, warm and safe, not feeling quite as hollow as she had the night before.

Aspen had hoped she would bounce back after their return to Baldur’s Gate, but of course things were not perfect, and little more than a week later, a letter arrived addressed to her, scrawled in her mother’s neat hand.

‘You should apologize. I believe you both should apologize, you both-’

She did not get a chance to finish reading before Astarion plucked it from her hand, tossed it into the fire.

A voice in the back of her head told she should probably be annoyed, angry even, that he took the first piece of correspondence she’d received from her family since and fed it to the flames. But there was no rage left inside of her, and even if there was, it would not spark, would not catch on the kindling forever in her heart, waiting to turn to a blaze.

She was thankful to him, for not forcing her to read such a letter. That blamed her as equally as the man who had threatened her. Who teetered on the edge of inflicting violence on her for the sin of disobedience.

“That’s utter rubbish,” he muttered, drawing her into his arms. And for that she was so painfully grateful that she burst into tears all over again, another bout in endless weeks of tears.

“It’s alright, darling.” He had said the words so many times over the past few days, comforting her in the morning when she awoke, trembling from dreams of screaming, from the fractures in her heart, the knowledge that there was no real going back, no crossing the distance between her and that man.

“You are not to blame,” he murmured, stroking her hair. “Your heart is good, darling, and it is not your job to please other people so they do not threaten you. Not even your own family.”

Aspen nodded silently, burying her face against his neck.

They could not hurt her here, they could not even slice her with their callous words. Here in her home, with her lover, she was safe.

“You’re sure?” She asked, sniffling. “You’re sure that I will not ruin us?”

He chuckled, warm and soft, nearly a sigh. “Do roses ruin a garden? Does a hawthorn tree ruin a forest?”

She peeked up from her hiding place, wrinkling her nose. “Pardon?”

“Roses have thorns, do they not?”

She nodded slowly. “They do.”

“But they’re everywhere, are they not? In gardens, in songs and poems, in bouquets given to lovers.” He tipped his head to the side, searching her face as he spoke.

Again she nodded, still unsure of what he was talking about. “I know that. They’re some of the most popular flowers.”

“Even though they have thorns?”

“I… Guess?” He was teasing her now, she was sure of it.

“And did you know,” he continued, toying with her hair. “That hawthorns, with their red fruits used in wines and jellies, and the pretty flowers that bloom on their branches, have thorns too?”

She shook her head, completely lost now. “I didn’t.”

He let go of her hair, settling his hands on her waist. “Well they do. And still they are not seen as something ruinous, but something people adore.”

When she didn’t respond, Astarion sighed, making a show of rolling his eyes. “My darling, you will not ruin us. I love you, I adore you. And I would choose you over all of the thornless, soft-hearted fools in the world.”

“I love you too,” she said, feeling small. “I love you, and I want you to stay with me.”

“And so I shall, darling,” he murmured, lowering his head, nuzzling his nose against hers. “I love you, thorns and all. I’m not going anywhere.”

Tears burned at her eyes, a stray few slipping down her cheeks, and she quickly wiped them away, smiling softly.

“You ought to become a poet,” she said, peeking up at him. “Especially after saying such pretty things.”

He snorted, pulling away to wave his hand languidly through the air. “What can I say? You bring out the romantic in me.”

“Thank you, my love,” she spoke earnestly, wanting him to know she was not joking around, that she meant it with her whole heart. “Thank you, for how kind you are to me.”

Astarion froze, the softest touch of pink blooming in his cheeks. What little blood stayed in his veins was rushing to his face, warming him, if only slightly.

“Yes, well…” He trailed off, stammering. “You make it so terribly easy. I hate the idea of your sweet heart being in pain.”

She smirked, teasing him now. “You know you’re pretty sweet, yourself.”

“Alright.” With a roll of his eyes he turned away. “Were we not planning to go out before we got that letter? We should hurry if we want to stop at the bookstore before heading to the performance.”

“Oh yes,” Aspen beamed, hurrying to his side, standing on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek before going in search of her cloak. “Right as always, my love. We must make haste.”

Laughter chased after her as she found where she’d last discarded her cloak, a deep deep the colour of a sunset, a perfect contrast to the powder pink of her gown and the coral-coloured ribbons that laced up the front of her bodice. She tossed it over her shoulders, clicking the clasps into place before heading to the entry, where Astarion waited for her, grinning brighter when he saw her.

“Beautiful as always,” he cooed, straightening the clasps of her cloak, disentangling the corners of her ribbons so the bows laid flat.

She beamed, pushing the letter from her mind, pushing the whole terrible event from her mind. What lurked in her skin was no monster, not a beast that destroyed everything that was dear. It was only her thorns, a part of her as surely as the blood in her veins.

Astarion had promised to help her soften them, so they did not draw blood when someone got too close. But there would likely always be a few that were a little sharp, despite her best efforts.

But he would love her anyways, acknowledging that they were a part of her, and he loved all of her, even the sharpest parts.

That knowledge settled in her heart, warmth kindling in her chest. Not the violent fire of rage, but the gentle warmth of love, of contentment, the kind of warmth that kept her safe.

He offered her his arm, and she took it, heading out into the snow-flecked world beyond their door. Into the city that she was not a missing puzzle piece in, with someone who loved her as she was, who was her home. And like the sun to a blooming flower, to a tree with flowers and fruits blossoming along its thorny branches, their love kept her warm the entire day.

#astarion bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion baldurs gate 3 #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #astarion x female tav #honey the sweeter the sun #hurt/comfort

[aetherceuse]

So.

It's been a few weeks since I announced taking a step back from Lusamine's blog, and, I think I'm at a point where I can put my struggles into words.

Before I get into my issue, I'm politely asking that this post is read and digested. In the past, whenever I post about something that I am struggling with in terms of roleplay and community interaction, my post has been used as a springboard for the dash to turn into "vent hour." That isn't what I want. I'm genuinely asking for people to read this, to digest it, and respect the fact that I am having a major issue with writing this character, which has been preventing me from actually being active-- and it is rooted in how the muse, and her information, has been treated.

I'm not tagging this as drama, because it is not drama. This isn't pointed at any individuals, because frankly, it's an issue I have had with writing villains my entire life, and it's only been amplified on Lusamine's blog in particular.

For starters: Lusamine is a beloved muse of mine. She is one of my favorites to sit down, dissect, and write about. It's important for people to understand that all of my canon muses are retellings in a way, but with Lusamine, that's ESPECIALLY important to understand. This Lusamine is not canon, she is a retelling, with her own backstory and world-relevant lore that is very important for people to read, grasp, and understand before proceeding forward with interactions.

However, it doesn't seem as though people really-- respect that, or even bother to read the bio and headcanons that I've written on her. I can tell, because a lot of the interactions I get are people reacting to canon events that haven't happened in my retelling. Mother Beast, for example, hasn't happened, and I've stated that multiple times over and over, yet that seems to be falling on deaf ears.

I really need my writing partners to actually read my content, and understand what I'm doing. I don't write headcanon posts and bios just because I wanna take up space on Tumblr dot com. I write them because they're a crucial part of what I'm doing.

And honestly-- that's not even the biggest issue I've had.

It is EXHAUSTING to open my ask box on a daily basis, and deal with asks sent in just calling her: bitch, cunt, 'Lusa-mean', 'Lusa-bitch', whatever. I don't think you guys understand how mentally taxing, and depressing that is for me. I get it. I'm writing the villain. Lusamine hasn't done great things. But I feel as though people are forgetting that there is an actual, human person sitting behind the inbox, who is writing a character that he loves-- and instead of getting thoughtful engagement, it's a barrage of "bitch." I've had to block people for doing this (IF you are reading this post on the dashboard, that means you're not guilty of doing this.).

But, this extends to the dashboard too. I feel as though I cannot write or do anything without someone dash comming or being automatically aggressive the moment Lusamine even so much as opens her mouth.

It's really, really not fun to be minding my business, and receive asks, IM's, or dash comms of this nature-- especially when I'm trying to write a complex character. I pour my heart and soul into what I write. And it's really sad that I have all of this stuff that people could be reading, interacting with, and reacting too-- and instead people just focus on all of the potential trauma that Lusamine could subject them to. It's not fun. At all. It really makes me feel like shit. I don't want to be used as the target of someone's parental trauma. Just because I am writing a villain, does not mean I am consenting to be nothing but an angst punching bag. I want to write stories, not just receive one-liners and zingers and "AH HAH, GOTCHAS!" in my ask box.

Frankly, I do not have nearly this much of a problem on any of my other antagonist blogs. Even though I'm still subject of whump at many times, it's not nearly as bad anywhere else, as it is on Lusamine's blog. It's really discouraging, and it makes me feel like I'm writing something that people don't really have any care or interest for. I get that my writing can be a little strange and off putting. I know that I dig into uncomfortable topics. It's not for everybody, but, I've never been the type of person to try and appeal to the greater audience. I'm very niche.

We talk about communication in this community a lot. We talk about wanting to interact. We talk about feeling as though engagement is down. And while I sit here and write this, I'm reflecting on that ongoing issue. I really feel as though we can improve the health of peoples' experience in this RPC if we-- y'know-- actually sat down, read what our partners are writing-- and ask questions/engage with it.

I don't know when I'll return to Lusamine's blog. I'm not deleting it obviously, I've put a lot of hard work into her character. But, until I feel as though there's a genuine interest in reading what I have going on, and engaging with it fairly, I'm going to keep my focus on Proton-- because, honestly, I feel really insecure on this account. At least over on Proton, it seems as though people are reading my glitch lore, respecting my muse/worldbuilding, and interacting with it. And it means the world to me. I hope to have that here one day too.

#✧˖°.« 𝙾𝚞𝚝 𝙾𝚏 𝙾𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚎 » OOC

[monsterunderthesheets]

SCABS and SCARS

a Vash x reader with a bit of body worship and just writing to express my love for this man.

⚠️MINORS DNI⚠️ MATURE CONTENT⚠️

Without further adue, lets begin!

A toast for tonight's hero!!" Mr. Davis raised his pint of beer accompanied by the howls and mirthful cheers of the townsfolk as music and laughter filled and bounced around the walls of a fairly sized tavern.

learning over the lip of his pint, he keenly observed the people around him, drinking and dancing without a single care in the world - not even after the chaos that had occurred not too long ago- the jovial atmosphere never fails to pique his attention but it was nothing short from pleasant.

in his viewpoint, humans have shorter lifespans than him; lives whose flames can easily be snuffed out with a single sigh, which is why they compensate by possessing as many complexities in just a small life: love, anger, lust, greed, dilemma, and vengeance. all of which Stampede considered precious and irreplaceable. experiencing these things every day he breaths only continues to astonish him.

'One more drink and I'm heading out.' Vash Inwardly thought. As much as he wanted to keep having fun, he just can't bring himself to overstay his welcome any longer than he already was. Granted his sudden leave could cause disappointment to those who went through the trouble of throwing this celebration for him but what choice does he have? he is the humanoid typhoon after all. wherever he goes, chaos and calamity always followed suit-

"Ah! there's my man!" 'Correction: one more drink and a chat and I'm heading out ' he scoffed at himself for not finishing his drink sooner.

"How are ya holding up, Stampede?!" Mr. Davis gave a hard smack on the young man's back out of drunken well-wishes, nearly spilling his drink over -not that Vash minded the rough treatment.-

"Well on my fifth mug sir, starting to get woozy by the minute! hahaha!" Vash sheepishly laughed masking yet another lie behind that innocent smile of his. Vash Knows he can handle his alcohol fairly well and if he planned on slipping past the crowd without seeming rude, he'd first have to take out the "drunkard's pass card" by convincing Mr. Davis and Everyone else that he was about to pass out.

"Nah! I Hoped you ain't that drunk yet son. you still hadn't received your reward!" Mr. Davis waves a hand and guffawed.

"Gee, thanks but you shouldn't have! the bourbon was enough really." Stampede shook his head and gestured to his nearly empty pint.

"Nonsense! you've done so much for this town and the least we can do is return the favor, my boy!"

"it's-" before he could continue to protest, His gaze caught sight of a fine young lady striding towards his direction. 'Oh boy. this again. ' Vash Gulped.

"I just wanna make sure you're well taken care of while you're here."

"Thank you but I'm too drunk for this-"

"Even better. that way you'll enjoy the night." Mr. Davis ruffles his hair and guffaws once more.

" Oh and don't worry about the room. it's on the house." he winked, gave Vash one more reassuring pat on the shoulder, and sauntered off back into the rowdy crowd without waiting for the young man's reply.

for an extended time, the pair exchanged pleasantries and a few more drinks with the lady who introduced herself as Y/N and not too long after, found each other's company quite enjoyable.

-. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -

"Look, I'm sorry you had to be dragged into this-"

the sound of laughter and celebration continued to reverberate from the walls of his room. Vash ended up staying for the night after all. He'd hate to come off as rude and on the plus side, her company was too good, it'd be a waste to leave so abruptly. Similar to any other celebration held for him, this is what he gets for being too much of a saint.

"not at all. I volunteered and am happy to serve you tonight." Y/N innocently smiled, unbothered by the situation they are both in at the moment.

Vash wasn't one to fluster so easily, especially in these sorts of events but with the way she assured him, it somehow caught him off guard. Granted, this wasn't his first devil's tango but because of a certain flaw he has, he was often left with a cold bed to sleep on and a space to wake up next to. which is why he'd rather pull the 'yeah-I'm- too-drunk-for-this ' card and dissuade the ladies before anything could happen and spare himself the repulsed looks on their faces.

But this felt... a bit different.

"In any case..." Y/N steps closer, peaking from behind her lashes as a way of seeking permission from the humanoid typhoon. "Shall we begin?"

gingerly she hovered one hand over his chest, patiently waiting for a response, not wanting to give the impression that his discomfort was unconsidered by her.

'Just a few minutes of making out and we're done.' Vash relents and leans down, planting a chaste kiss on her lips 'just like always' he whispers inwardly.

Y/N returns the kiss and slowly-albeit hesitantly- presses herself against him. Vash hadn't realized he'd been unconsciously putting a gap between them until his back made contact with the wall. however, as soon as they hit a full stop, Y/N didn't persist in leaning against him. instead, she turned her head to one side, presenting her neck to him for the taking if he so wished to.

this, in turn, made Vash curse under labored breaths.

Granted, Vash does find the company of women enjoyable at some point, but Y/N? If magic was real, she made him feel BEWITCHED.

From her scent to her delicate gestures, even down to her faint and soft sighs, alcohol may have had something to do with his current state but only the gods know what those little things she's been doing have done to him.

although those thoughts can only go so far.

the marksman snapped back from his euphoric trance the moment he felt cold fingers pinch the hem of his shirt.

He reflexively caught her wrist and held her in place. The sudden action startled Y/N and she took a slight step back.

“Was- was it not to your liking?” she choked, confused about what she did wrong.

Now feeling responsible for his actions, Vash quickly scrambled for words to reassure her. “What? N-no! no, you did nothing wrong at all! It’s just… ah hahaha…” his hand found its way to the back of his neck, a habit he’d been doing whenever he struggled to find the right words to explain his behavior. He sighed. “I’m… I’m just not as pretty under these clothes… hahaha…”

He didn’t want to bring this up. But with what little choice he had, he’d have to bite the bullet, hope that this will be enough to discourage her and just leave rather than let her see what horrible visage his body had become. Worse still, is when she’d feel threatened by him.

“I see…” Y/N sighed

Before Vash could scoff at himself, he froze as Y/N gingerly took his prosthetic hand in her small ones, raised it to her lips and planted a gentle kiss on a knuckle, and spoke:

“I understand if you don’t want to do things you’re uncomfortable with,” She then moved his hand close to her chest, basically putting it right on her heart. “But at least allow me to grant you your reward for saving my town and its people. And I wouldn’t mind if you keep them on at all.” Y/N then leans once more and gave his cheek a tender peck, followed by a small, earnest smile. She was adamant to see her duties though but she was also ready to stop if he so wished to. In truth, Y/N wondered how far she could go to please him. For now, she continued where they left off by giving him another kiss.

The more he let her words seep into his head, the more he allowed the kiss to deepen, returning it with slowly growing vigor.

Now that He’s given it more thought, how long has it been since he’s last intimate with a woman? The answers were far too faded over time. One he decided not to revisit.

‘Give yourself a break. It’s not every day someone’s willing to give you company.’

To his surprise, the kiss abruptly broke when he felt like he landed on some cushions under him. He hadn’t realized that while his mind was elsewhere, Y/N led him to the couch and got him to sit. Before he could comment on it, Y/N had already proceeded to undo her hair as well as a couple of buttons from her shirt. Her now exposed collar bone dusted with a faint pink blush, left Vash’s throat dryer than the deserts of Gunsmoke.

He gave his hand to her, inviting her onto his lap, and in return, she took the offer, placing the other hand on his chest for support.

They resumed where they left off, leaving kisses on each other’s skins, rewarding each other with sighs of contentment and blooming ecstasy; now with better access to height, Y/N plants another kiss on Vash’s temple, trailing to his cheek, and his jaw. Y/N hooked a finger on the hem of his turtle neck collar to see if he’d protested like before. To her relief, Vash only gave an approving mewl. Y/N smiled and pulled down his collar just a little bit, enough that she could access his pulse and spoil it with kisses.

Vash sucked in a breath, fingers digging into her hips, pulling her closer to him in the process when-

“oh?” Y/N giggled, her eyes staring down at something other than his own. He froze. He knew exactly what she was, looking at. Turns out Vash wasn’t the only one getting excited tonight. Y/N snickered at Vash for becoming a blushing mess.

“Your call Mr. Stampede.” ‘please don’t say my name like that!’

“Uhhh… a little help?” ‘Vash! You idiot!’

Y/N smiles.

“Then if you’ll excuse me,” Y/n announces, beginning to move her hips on his little companion. Vash would have already spewed a string of prayers if it weren’t for Y/N’s lips being in the way that all he could do was let her swallow his moans.

Each sway of her hips was driving him even deeper into the abyss that is lust, every friction clouding his judgments and granting his hands a mind of their own, haphazardly pulling aside what little clothes he could easily remove from her just to get access to her skin. Her neck, her shoulders, her collarbones, and her chest- anything to satiate his growing need to take her.

By gods, he was getting close! His skin began to sear due to pent-up frustration from within his core and worsened by the intoxicating touch he continues to receive from Y/N.

Should he end it here? Yeah. That would be better. If they stop here, he’d have time to leave before dawn. Yeah. That’s the plan…

That was the plan.

“ Wait-“

“Stam- wha-!!“

With a swift move, Vash interrupts her with a kiss and then led her to stand.  Y/N felt Vash slowly lowering himself, all the while leaving kisses from her jaw, neck, collar bone, shoulder, her harms, and down to her wrist until his knees met the hard wooden floor.

“May I?” He inquired, taking the hem of her skirt in between his fingers and meeting her eyes. Y/N smiled. “Proceed, Mr. Stampede.” With that, Vash hoists one leg over his shoulder and disappears under her petticoat.

Not long after, Y/N was reduced to a mess of gasps and pleasured moans. Vash’s tongue worked wonders on her; constantly stealing her breath out from her lungs, her voice always finding ways to escape her throat which gave him his vigor and appetite. He was thankful he skipped dinner.

At this point, Y/N could no longer hold her weight as she reached her first climax, causing her knees to buckle under her yet Vash had already long kept her propped up with ease as if she weighed nothing to him.

“heh. There we go~” Vash was pleased with himself for giving you the first finish.

“St- Stampede…” Y/N stammered and could do nothing but a gesture to the bed. “Please.” She added. Vash kissed her inner thigh and escorted her to the bed as requested.

Vash Found one of her fingers hooked on the belt loop of his pants, eagerly pulling the layer of hindrance, “May I?” this time, it was Y/N’s turn to ask for the same request as Vash did before.

He nods in approval, allowing her to undo his belt and finally meet his little partner. He was unexpectedly girthy.

“Charming”

“Thank you”

Vash leans in for another kiss, this time it was at a gentler pace. He’d hope that by doing so, Y/N would be put at ease before finally committing to the full copulation.

He aligned himself with her but paused.

‘damn… never knew I’d be able to get to this point again… what if…?’  Vash inwardly thought. Just then, Y/N’s small yet warm fingers caress his cheek and gave him a tender, reassuring smile, and said “It’s okay. You won’t hurt me.” With that, he began slowly pushing in.

Every succeeding inch being pushed in caused Y/N’s back to arch from the bed, and for every succeeding length, Vash had to suck air through his teeth. He felt as though he finally hilted in her and curiously looked down to see his work. It turns out, he had already reached Y/N’s cervix without being fully sheathed yet.

‘Fuuuuuuuuckkk that’s cute’

In a haze, Y/N completely misread his pause as hesitation and assured him again that he could move. Vash was about to correct her but thought against it to not dampen the mood.

The pace was slow at first. no rush. Just completely focus on giving each other as much pleasure as they can possibly give one another. As Y/N begins to get used to him, her insides begin to memorize his shape. But as their hearts begin beating faster, their breaths more ragged and labored, blood boiling hotter, so too was their pace, each time Vash pulls out and reenters her, his shaft slowly fits in her and finally, she fully sheaths his length, finally completely connected for the first time.

“V- Vah- hah – sh… Ah!” Y/N mewled his name, her voice felt like a prayer to him. The kind that would haunt him in his sleep. Oh, the dangerous game she unknowingly made him play. It did nothing but stoke his roaring flames even more.  

Speaking of which, Vash was beginning to feel overwhelmed by how hot the room has become and it wasn’t helping that his clothes were in the way. Lost in the heat, he had completely forgotten why he kept them on in the first place, far too lost in his heated pleasure with this terrifyingly bewitching woman, and tore his shirt off. It gave him only but a brief moment of relief before he realized what he had done.

His blood ran cold, his body frozen in place, inwardly cursing himself for getting carried away. At this point, he can do nothing but anticipate Y/N’s expressions contorting into something of disgust or fear. Either way, he’d accept his fate, come what may.

In a blur, he now found himself underneath Y/N.

“How-?” Vash couldn’t finish his words when he saw the glint in her eyes. Keenly, intently, adoringly scanning every scab and scar that was ever present on his skin. She looked so wild but ethereal under the glow of the moonlight. Vash had forgotten they were even connected until Y/N began moving again, the sudden movement earned a surprised gasp from his lips.

“Gods you’re Beautiful.” Her voice was dripping with venom and lust, and a new wave of heat and passion bloomed from within her core. But Vash was too focused on what she called him… ‘beautiful’

Memories of when he first laid bare to a partner in bed pierced his thoughts. Of when he has bestowed a myriad of names, ones that aren’t pretty, to say the least. Memories of when he woke up to an empty bed, of when he was lied to and left alone to have no one to love.

Before the tears could form in his eyes, Y/N had already kissed them away then her lips moved to a small scar nearby, smiling with every scar kissed in her wake, each lovingly treated as though they were fragile, especially the ones that looked new or recent, afraid that they’d hurt if she was too rough.

“Your beautiful as you are, Vash the Stampede.” The way she whispered his name wasn’t of fear but of love. One he hadn’t heard of since his childhood, a hundred or so years ago.

Stampede stirs awake, feeling the sun's rays hit his lids. He rolled over to one side of the bed, hoping he’d find Y/N still sleeping next to him… only he rolled onto another space.

-. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -

Feeling dejected, Vash sighed and rolled onto his back, covering an arm over his eyes in a pathetic attempt to hide his own emotions but failed, now fighting back hot tears and chuckling to himself.

“I knew it was too good to be true.” Vash heaved a bleak sigh.

Vash gave himself all to her that night. Each wound was mended with her warm touch, that night, The humanoid Typhoon was but a calm breeze.

“What is?”

Vash bolted up from the bed, scanning the room to find the owner of the voice in disbelief. There, Y/N stood by the bathroom door, wearing nothing but the large red coat that Vash had discarded the night before.

At first, Y/N looked confused by his reaction but when her eyes landed on the fluffy blonde mess atop his head, she puffed a small laugh. She then strode towards the bewildered man, cupping his cheek as she reached him and planted a warm, loving kiss on his forehead.

“I suppose the bourbon hasn’t completely left your system yet.” Y/N beams sweetly to him and smooths his tangled golden locks “get dressed and let's get something to eat-“

“tell-!” Vash yelped, a bit of panic in his voice. Feeling responsible all of a sudden.

“Tell me if your stomach hurts okay? If you need anything, let me know!” his hands found her elbows, gently pulling her close to him. “if the baby bothers you just call-“ Y/N interrupts him, giggling in the process. “Slow down, Vash! You know it will take a while to confirm it right?” Y/N was reduced to a giggling mess.

“I… I knew that.” Vash cleared his throat.  “Unless…” Y/N leans into his ear and whispers; “You’d want a little stampede running around, I could gladly give one to you.”

She was right, the alcohol wasn’t fully out of his system yet.

END.

-. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. - -.-. -. -. -

*Comments are absolutely encouraged!*

#Vash x Reader #Vash the stampede #trigun fic #i just wanna love Vash's scars #let this man know love! #Vash is so beautiful! #gods I love Vash to pieces! #my fic #monsterunderthesheetsfic #scabs and scars #NSF//W #Lemon #N$FW

[creat0r-cat]

Iplier Egos x reader HCs - Their Favorite Non-Video Game

Dark: Chess

I think he would enjoy how complex and mentally challenging it can be

Chess is also considered a relaxation game for some people

So I wonder if maybe he’ll play chess in order to calm himself down when the other egos (or someone/something else) is driving him up a wall

If you play chess and you’re good at it, you’d probably be his favorite opponent

If you don’t know how to play, he’d be happy to teach you

He’s always happy to spend time with his darling

Wilford: Pie Face or Headbands

It depends on his mood

One moment he’ll be taking the risk of being hit with whipped cream, the next he’ll be crying because of memories of “That Night”

He’s haunted by his past and it really does affect what he can and cannot play at times 

When he’s not in the mood for Pie Face, he’ll sometimes play a fun little game like Headbands

A guessing game that can become very chaotic very quickly

Life needs a little madness and that sounds like a good way to set it free, especially if it’s with you

Actor Mark: Poker

He has a gambling addiction

Probably

It’s a way to get more money for his “luxurious” lifestyle 

If you play with him, trust that he’ll be flaunting his victories in your face

If he loses, he’ll act like it never happened or give a lame excuse as to why he lost

If you don’t play, that’s probably for the best

But at the same time, if he’s playing against other people and you’re with him, he’ll use you as a kind of “good luck charm” instead of a competitor 

That’s just his way of bragging to the others that he has such a lovely lady by his side

Yancy: Charades

It kinda matches up with his musical hobby

Since charades is a game of movement and guessing, he’d probably enjoy it

Also, it’s a multiplayer game so he could play with his fellow prisoners

If everyone is busy, you can play with him, just the two of you

He’d figure out how to say “I love you” in body movements without using sign language or actually touching you

He’s really good

Illinois Jones: Any Card Game

He has limited space when he packs for an adventure

If he’s going to take a game to play while he’s out and about, it should NOT take up much room him his bag

That’s why card games are his favorite

They are very entertaining and don’t take up much room

Even a simple deck of playing cards can go a long way

He loves playing with you, his partner and girlfriend

It’s nice to play with someone rather than being stuck in a single player game for a long time

Dr. Iplier: Operation

It’s like practice for his job but it’s a game

Those tiny pieces are especially tricky and he LOVES it 

He feels very happy and accomplished when he completes the entire game without getting Cavity Sam’s nose to light up

If you play the game with him, then expect him to guide your hands from behind

Like that romantic yet annoying thing that couples do when one of them is working on something

He gets really close, his whole body pressed up against yours

When you successfully extract a tough object, he’ll whisper praises in your ear 

You can feel his warm breath and it sends shivers down your spine every time

If he wants to really make you flustered, he’ll nibble on your ear and kiss your neck

Just a little something he does with you and you alone

Google: Google Feud

I don’t think this counts as a video game

Anyway, he likes to extend his knowledge by playing this game

It helps improve what he could potentially expect one of his “brothers” or you could ask him at any time

His primary objective being what it is

If you decide to play with him, he’ll enjoy seeing your facial reactions when you read off the answers, or seeing your smile when you get something right

He might be a robot and not fully able to understand the concept of love

But he truly enjoys spending time with you, someone who treats him just like a normal person

It’s something that makes him feel human

Bing: Cards Against Humanity

Why does that game just seem to fit his personality (and search engine)?

It’s goofy, funny, and at times inappropriate, just like him

It’s a game he can enjoy with a lot of people

Unfortunately, he can’t play a one-on-one game of CAH with you, his girlfriend, but he’s happy that he can enjoy time with you alongside the other people in his life that he cares about

Yandereplier: Hide and Seek

What’s more romantic than a friendly game of hide and seek?

Especially when he didn’t know that he was going to be playing until you’re already hiding

His heart races as he searches each and every room for you

Whenever something makes a sudden sound, his head whips toward it so fast you swear he could get whiplash

After a while he’ll find you 

He always does

He’ll hold you close and say how much fun the game was and how much he loves you

He’ll also whisper that you should never surprise him with hide and seek again lest you never see the light of day again

He does care about you

He’ll do anything for his sweet sweet senpai and girlfriend

Even if that means keeping you away from the world

Head Engineer Mark: He’s Down for Whatever

He doesn’t really play games because he’s too busy

However, if you ask, he could probably take some time off and play a game

Of course, none of you really packed anything so it’ll likely end up being a game like Sticks, Checkers, Chess, Tic-Tac-Toe, anything that you guys can make or have on hand

It’s nice to take a break and have a little fun

It takes his mind off of things

#markiplier egos #x reader #iplier egos #wilford warfstache #darkiplier #yancy #illinois #illinois jones #a heist with markiplier #in space with markiplier #head engineer mark #engineer mark #actor mark #yandereplier #yanderiplier #illinois jones x reader #darkiplier x reader #yancy x reader #actor mark x reader #googleplier #bingiplier #googleplier x reader #dbz #markiplier #bingiplier x reader #google irl #dr iplier #Dr Iplier x reader #markiplier egos x reader #headcanon

[demonslayedher]

Why do you like Demon Slayer so much?

I---I don't know, Anon, w-why do you like breathing so much?

...because BREATH TECHNIQUE LOOKS WICKED AWESOME AMIRITE!??!!?

UFOTABLE MADE SUCH A FREAKING COOL LOOKING ANIME that both looks and sounds amazing with all that care put into it HOW COULD I NOT LOVE IT!? Such good source material too, ALL HAIL WANI-SENSEI!!!!

Or rather, to more eloquently express myself, I'll answer this in two parts: the "why" and "so much."

Why do I like it?

- Simplicity

It's a classic Good .vs. Evil story, a triumph of working hard and working together. It's Coming of Age and Hero's Journey, all themes that never get old because they're really good themes. KnY isn't even that fresh of a take if you boil it down to this, but it didn't need to reinvent the wheel, it just needed to be a good wheel to keep the story going.

I was grateful it ended when it did, it had a goal to accomplish and everything in the story worked toward that goal. I've fallen away from adventure shounen because I can never stay interested in super long series that get mercilessly extended past their natural life as cash cows. Not to sound like a Swamp Demon here, but this manga got to end while it was still young and beautiful.

The fighting mechanisms are complex enough to be fun to explore, but it's not as complicated as other shounen series, making the barrier to entry lower for first-time anime viewers. That's part of why I think it's been so successful. Plus, even though we get things like Red Blades and Marks later, their existence as ultimate techniques was in place from the start, so they felt believably set up and paid off. They made sense within the world building, even if they had to be dropped on the readers later so as to weekly serialization interesting.

It tackles deep themes, but doesn't overcomplicate them. Muzan being a simple villain and Tanjiro simply being good-hearted created interesting tension just fine, the motivations throughout the cast keep the story nicely driven.

- Depth

Although the story, world, and characters are simple enough for people of all ages and familiarity with anime to enjoy, if you want to scratch deeper than the surface level, the hundreds of thousands of words of meta and cultural background throughout my blog go to show that it's very, very easy to bury yourself deeper in it. In my case I already have years of obsession with Japanese culture to build on, so KnY fit very nicely into my niche. I already love samurai and oni and swords and such so that was already playing to my knowledge, but as a passionate nerd, it's also given me lots and lots of exciting new material to learn more about. But more about that later, suffice to say here that Gotouge is a very, very knowledgeable gator.

- Characters

THEY ARE JUST GOOD AND FUN AND UNIQUE DESIGNS IN THE FIRST PLACE, but also, I don’t feel like I already know these characters from other anime. Many of them defy being typecast, and even the ones that do feel like like other characters in a plethora of anime have such a unique spin to make them stand out in my heart. I'm sure I could be a nerd for plenty of other series, but it takes the right characters to make a fangirl.

Also, my emotions got manipulated excellently; I like Tanjiro and immediately wanted to root for him, but I ha-a-a-ated most of the rest of the cast until I got to spend a teeny-tiny bit more time with them, and then I liked them hopelessly. I got totally strung along and I love it when I can get strung along like this.

Why do I like it so much?

A lot of that comes down to my personal recipe of brain soup and the situation I already felt stuck in by the time I got into KnY, a few months prior to the pandemic. Watching the anime and feeling really into it came as a comfort while I was finding myself in what felt more like a situation than a good career move and feeling frustrated with the second draft of a novel which wasn't working. Then just as I had hoped there might be some improvements to my situation which I was holding out for, the pandemic changed everyone's plans.

Simply put, the isolation and stress in those early stages of the pandemic both gave me lots of time to explore and write fanfic and made me rely a lot on the joy I got out of KnY, and then I got so practiced at making KnY fanwork that this blog became like my bonsai I could cultivate in peace while most other things in life have continued to feel out of control. And dang it, I'm good at cultivating this bonsai of a blog! It's gratifying to feel good at something when real life is making you feel otherwise!

Hopefully the upcoming new start in a new city and in a new job that'll hopefully make me feel good at things again and provide some smidge more control over my life will make me less reliant on KnY for such a big share of my happy hormones, but...

THE HYPE IS PART OF WHAT I LOVE

IT IS

SO MUCH FUN BEING OBSESSED WITH A MAINSTREAM PHENOMENON

THERE ARE THINGS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY EVERYWHERE

I SAY THESE CHARACTER NAMES AND EVERYONE KNOWS WHO I'M TALKING ABOUT AND THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED TO ME

IT STAYS ON MY BRAIN BECAUSE IT IS EVERYWHERE

AND THIS IS SO COOL

[scrappedtogether]

Top 3 scooby movies and why?

Hi Swishy!! Thank you for the ask!! It was so hard for me to pick but!!!

1. Zombie Island: this has some of the strongest artistic style, some of the best music, and probably the strongest overall story. Likely the only movie that I would put on for someone who had never seen Scooby Doo that I felt at least 99% confident they would enjoy. It has some really significant character developments (Fraphne esp). The Gang had split up before in the franchise and reunited to continue their mystery-solving adventures but this was the first time where a narrative had really been constructed around what could drive the Gang apart and ultimately what would lead them back together. It’s a really interesting premise for the film. This also marks probably the first time in the larger cultural consciousness that Daphne takes on a more leadership role. I’d argue (and so would others) that much of the mystery-solving work is more divided in the likes of SDWAY/TSDS/TNSDM than people give it credit for but the Daphne here is allowed to take the reign much in the same way as the Daphne from 13G and TNSDMy that most people never had the chance to see (bc those shows sadly aren’t that popular). This movie has a Very satisfying villain twist (delicious, I love Lena and Simone) and one that feels startingly mature and dark. It’s really frightening to contemplate the absolute horror of the Scooby Gang being invited into what is ultimately an island of serial killers in which the ground is completely littered with the corpses of their past victims. Besides the cat transformation scene, the reconfiguration of Morgan Moonscar into flesh could easily be the most iconic chunk of animation from the film. It’s horrifying and evocative and complex. Morgan Moonscar was a villain—just as much if not more so than the villains the Gang are ultimately tasked to defeat—but seeing the reality of his curse, the depth of his despair as he’s horrifically reformed to wander as a creature not-quite-living in hopes of sparing others this fate is despairing and terrible. I the film’s moral ambiguity. We’re called to sympathize with Lena and Simone who have suffered an unimaginable injustice in watching their village pillaged and their people devoured. They enact such atrocities not just as a means for survival but also recompense, for a world that has wronged them. We understand them, even as we shudder to think of their past actions and volley for the Gang to overcome them. In terms of animation, this really feels like Scooby Doo going back to its roots in the overall pallet and landscape design (leaving behind the then recent Scooby Doo outings with upped saturation and suburban settings like APNSD) while breaking what people consider the classic Scooby Doo formula. Obviously this was not the first canonical appearance of the supernatural within the ScoobyDooniverse but it was the first time within the larger realm of the public consciousness that the final big bad was not “unmasked.” Unpopular opinion: “The Ghost is Here” > “It’s Terror Time Again.” Tho they are both excellent. I have to restate that this is literally some of the most gorgeous animation ever seen in a Scooby Doo film and truly an all around thrilling ride. The mystery is fun, the characters are all their loveable selves, we get to watch the Gang come back together like they never were apart, and the villains in this are an absolute delight. Great laughs, great animation, great story.

2. Ghoul School: I’m pretty upfront about how much I love Scrappy and it really extends to the whole red-shirt era. I’m one of those people who doesn’t mind that the rest of the Gang’s not along for the ride (tho I do miss them) and I absolutely adore this movie. I must have watched it 10000 times growing up. I love Matches, I love all the Grimwood Girls and the Calloway Cadets and I love Legs and Miss Grimwood and (Grim) Creeper. The tone of the animation of this movie is superb. Everything is dark and damp and rotting. The world of the movie is so twisted and fascinating. There’s such a wealth of ideas here that seem to be just the writers having fun and being silly. It’s so funny that for some reason the Werewolf loves lemon juice and that Elsa Frankenteen buys her dad a charger and that Dracula gets a bat-robe and checks it out in the mirror (where he obviously can’t be seen). I love how tenderly all the Monster Fathers love their daughters. I love the genuine bonds that begin to grow between Shaggy and Scooby and the Grimwood Girls and that the Calloway Cadets come around past their initial fear and hatred of the girls to protect and befriend them. I love that this is a story about how the humanity underneath the monsters instead of humans wearing monstrous masks. I love how kitschy and campy and kooky this little movie is. The friendship moments, Don Messick’s wailing vocal (no one does it like him, sorry Frank). I love Scrappy in this cute little flick where he’s just allowed to be a character without it feeling like the showrunners are attempted to centralize him or demonize him (yes he has a smaller role in this movie than in Boo Brothers but it is SUBSTANTIALLY larger than the role he gets in The Reluctant Werewolf smh its okay tho). The costuming in this is immaculate. Perfect holiday/Halloween vibes. I’m never going to let my kids watch anything else. Thank you.

3. Cyber Chase: “Hello Cyberdream” may rank as one of the greatest of all Scooby bangers and Eric Staufer is one of a handful of Mystery Inc. adjacents who actually felt like they could fit into the core four/Gang Dynamic without it being weird and overstuffed. The use of effects in this movie is gorgeous. I love the levels and just the concept of this movie. The animation style is smooth, VA’s are on point, Bill is one of my all-time favorite villains (he’s just so dumb I love him). This movie is so unapologetically steeped within its own time period (which is something really special about the Scooby franchise as a whole). I like this movie’s fearless dedication to embracing 2000’s tech with heavy chords and chunky computers and overuse of greens. It’s beautiful. The movie feels bustling and big. I like the callbacks to other iconic Scooby villains (I esp like that it branches out by not just having WAY villains but TSDS as well, that’s ace). The Cyber Doubles are a blast. 10/10 I appreciate that people felt it was a step-down from the other movies of its era and I can understand there wasn’t as much in terms of character happening and that the monster wasn’t really “real” even though he was at least as real as Eric’s bizarre, magic-science. But it’s still so unique and fun and colorful. I love the atmospheres of each of the different levels and that the Gang has to navigate through them by working together. I love the little details of this movie’s cleverness like how Cyber Scooby is so different from his counterpart because Scooby’s the only one Eric never actually met. I like the respect and genuine adoration it pays to the early series of Scooby Doo. It’s not trying to talk down or retcon or prove that it can rewrite itself into something better. It’s calling back to remind us how much there is to love about the franchise and all the fun of the golden years and how things are different now but fundamentally the same. I think Officer Wembley is so absurdly fun and so is Professor Kaufman. I like the stakes of this movie, the life and death reality of a silly computer game.

This is so cheating but I really, really wanted to talk about a Scooby movie from the more modern DTV era so also:

4. Camp Scare: You will never hear me say a bad word about this film. It was a cultural reset. Babyface Beretti was always going to be IT. But really, this movie is stellar. Truly embraces a summer camp slasher aesthetic while keeping it clean. The Woodsman’s backstory is h o r r i f y i n g, move over Jason. I love how this movie individualizes itself through its use of genre. The use of POV shots is so superb and the way the film plays with shadows and silhouettes. The constant voiceover as the Gang relays campfire stories and invites the audience to question what exactly is so terrifying about urban legends. Genius. Another win for the soundtrack. I’ll listen to “Summertime” any day, any season. Lots of very iconic and cool moments between the Gang in this one. We love a movie where Shaggy and Scooby spend the whole time giggling in the background. But really, some very iconic Scooby&Shaggy bestie moments in this like Shaggy SMASHING A BOARD AGAINST THE MONSTER (after it goes after Scooby <- not to mention Scooby goes after the monster to protect Daphne) and shouts “Hey Fishface, like, back away from my buddy!.” Shaggy is off-the-wall in this movie. The prison break scene is *mwah.* Also some pretty iconic outfits in this and side characters (who does not love Trixie and Luke? Also Jessica!!!!) Very spooky scary villain designs in this one and the movie wasn’t afraid to embrace scale (think of the canyon scene, the dam breaking scene, and lots of the forest scenes) to emphasize how dwarfed children feel by the natural world, the intense isolation of being alone in nature, and why that’s so scary. Also, really great animation style in general. Following on the heels of Abracadabra-Doo, it marks a nice clean balance between being modern and remaining iconic in deference to the classic appearances of the characters. There’s also some great character building in this movie, for both central and side characters. I really admire Fred’s arc about growth and letting go of his pride in order to help build a better community, even if it’s not exactly the same as the one he held nostalgia for. It’s a really great reflection on childhood and growing up and allowing yourself to invent new memories instead of trying to recapture the past, told through the bent of a summer camp which of course is such an iconic image and symbol for childhood. Toward the close of the movie, it has a bit of a shift in genre to something more action-based but I think it does so pretty seamlessly and to great effect so I love it still.

#the way I took so long to answer this 😭 #thank you so much swishy!!! I loved talking abt these #feel free to send in other asks #I’m working on gif requests #should have more time in a week or two #meta #Zombie Island #Ghoul School #Cyber Chase #Camp Scare #mmmmmm I love talking about Scooby movies I love!!!!

[thegloweringcastle]

Part Four - 14 Days Later

Merry Christmas Eve @the-lonelybarricade​!! I present to you the last chapter of your gift 🥺

It was so much fun to write this little series for you and even better to gift it. I hope you’ve enjoyed the story as much as I have, my love! ❤️❤️❤️

warnings: light angst, unhappy/unhealthy family & relationship briefly mentioned in beginning

word count: ~2.2k

Her entire life, Feyre and her family had lived in a low-income community. The education was poor, the job opportunities even more abysmal. Feyre received only hand-me-downs and never had the means to do what she wanted. Those resources were saved only for her sisters; for Nesta and her books, for Elain and her plants.

Their parents had been another story altogether; their father was absentminded and always seemed lost in his own little world, their mother had been harsh and controlling.

“A pipe dream” she had said when Feyre expressed interest in traveling. “You can barely even read. How are you supposed to do anything?” And Feyre hadn’t known any better than to bite her tongue and never mention it again. Besides, why would she believe otherwise when the kids at school were just as unforgiving? They never held back when it came to sharing their opinions of her.

By the time Feyre started high school, and her mother was gone and her father was declining and her sisters had left, she knew better than to trick herself into believing she could ever escape. She wasn’t smart enough to find a job with substantial pay, she wasn’t rich enough to go to a four year university, she wasn’t talented enough to create what her heart ached for.

It was all too easy to fall for the tall, blond classmate, fresh off the football field. A Daddy’s Money type boy, he expected to have her at his beck and call in no time. He had not been disappointed. Feyre had been left alone for so long, had been struggling to simply survive, that she gave in. He was attractive enough, nice enough, wealthy enough. But when things went south, and he revealed the predatory, controlling side to himself, Feyre knew staying with him would be even worse than staying in her hometown.

After the flames died and the rubble cooled, Feyre promised herself she would never let something like it - something like him - happen again. She grew tired of relying on other people, of simply giving into the world’s expectations of her.

There was a sense of triumph that came with quitting a job, especially when your manager was a sleazy, smarmy man with wandering eyes and a god complex. Feyre’s boss was the reason arrogance had a bad rap; she knew another man who wore it far better.

Feyre didn’t know why she owned three can openers, but she figured she could get by with just one. Maybe even none. Same for the two hammers and many throw pillows.

She was ruthless in clearing out her apartment, tossing things she might end up regretting, but only having the patience to entertain the possibility for so long. She wanted out.

Books went into boxes, clothes went into bags. She kept the necessities and valuables and split the rest between donations and sales. Moving before had always been a chore, something she did when there was nothing or no one left for her in a too-quiet house. But this time… this time was rejuvenating. Perhaps it was the adrenaline, perhaps it was her love-sick mind. Either way, Feyre had never emptied her living quarters more quickly.

She wouldn’t lie and say there weren’t any doubts. After the way she left, she wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up rejected and homeless after moving out. But at least her sisters had extended an olive branch over the past year, flimsy as it was.

It was true; the doubt crept up on her like a stalker in the night, an insecurity she had become all too companionable with over the years. The best she could do in the most recent cases, in cases where panic seized her and her body froze as still as ice, was to recall the different shades of blue visible in Rhys’ eyes.

It always began with violet, but ended with a myriad of different shades, hues, and tints. Periwinkle, indigo, plum, steel… 

Reciting colors was therapeutic; picturing his eyes was a comfort, even if slightly masochistic. There was no guarantee her plan would “sort itself out” as she told herself it would, nor was there any promise that he hadn’t moved on after the little stunt she pulled. As she stuffed her bags into the boot of a taxi, she reassured herself that no matter what, she would keep the new promise she made to herself.

The fourth time Feyre arrived in Velaris, she was there to stay. She had an air of finality about her, walking with a newfound confidence as she navigated through ice and snow towards a series of townhouses. If you were to stop her on the street for a chat, you would never guess there was a hurricane of fears and doubts wearing through her mind. You wouldn’t be able to tell she had been crying for hours on end before catching the train. You would simply see a woman - a tourist on vacation, perhaps, exploring what the world has to offer. There were few guesses further off the mark. She knew what she wanted, and she was there to get it.

***

Rhysand Moreno had always been a different type of child. Yes, he was mischievous and hellbent on causing trouble like many others his age. Yes, his favorite thing was to wreak havoc anytime the opportunity arose. But he also had a heart bigger than most people could comprehend. He had the wisdom of an old soul - of someone who understood the complexities of life.

It was because of this that Rhysand found the two boys he would eventually come to call brothers. It was because of this that when his cousin came to live with them, weepy and afraid and quiet, he took the time to sit with her in silence, reading books and sharing toys. It was because of this that Rhys never shied away from showing affection for those he loved. And it was because of this that when Feyre Archeron left him alone on a cold New Year’s morning, his heart hurt more than it ever had before.

I’m in love with you. She had never said it back. And now Rhysand was left waiting, wondering. He had tried calling her, texting her, emailing her. He even sent a letter, but it had been returned to him in no time, marked “Nonexistent Address”. He had nearly given up.

His mother had tried to help, asking him to come into the shop for company more often. His sister had asked to spend more time with him. Even his father had tried to spend “quality” time with him at a golf range. Rhys didn’t like golf. Mor and his brothers had taken him for drinks, and Cassian had roughed it out with him at the gym multiple nights in a row.

The point being: they all knew something was up. Rhys never said anything, but maybe that was more meaningful; the fact that he hadn’t said a word about the woman he had been head-over-heels for was most telling.

That was how he found himself at the counter of his mother’s shop after hours - the exact place he and Feyre had met - trying to distract himself with campaign plans and city laws.

“Sweetie,” His mom stepped from her workroom, the lights shut off and the supplies put away. “I’m all done for tonight. Would you like to come home with me? Have dinner with us? Your father was asking about you this morning.”

“That’s okay ma,” He gathered his papers, sorting and filing them for later use. “It’s late, I think I’ll just have something at my place.”

Her smile was sweet and concerned, and it made Rhys’ heart twinge with guilt. She patted his cheek, the gesture familiar and soft. “Maybe next time, then.”

“Yeah,” He kissed her forehead. “Let me know when you get home safe.”

They stepped out into the beginnings of a blizzard and made it to their separate cars. Rhys drove home in a daze, one hand at twelve o’clock and the other propping his head up, elbow resting on the door. He didn’t even register the trip; it was like he teleported from his mother’s shop to his home in the wink of an eye. The next thing he knew, he was locking his car doors and turning to head up the front steps. The thin, shivering figure sitting on his porch stopped him dead in his tracks.

***

“Feyre,” He said her name under his breath like a prayer. “What are you- are you really? You’re here…” She thought he was about to drop his things to hug her. She sure hoped he was.

She stood from where she sat on the cold, concrete steps. Her rear had long ago gone numb, and her pants were soaked with melted ice and snow. “I am.”

His mouth opened, closed, opened again. “Come inside, it’s cold out here.” He brushed past her, their shoulders bumping. She could smell his soft jasmine, and it made her pulse slow ever so slightly.

Rhys moved about in silence, setting his things down and putting water on for tea as if his body were on autopilot. It wasn’t until Feyre had changed clothes and Rhys had started dinner that he spoke.

“I didn’t think you would come back.” His voice was hoarse, and he kept his eyes on the stove. “Why did you leave? Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I wasn’t sure…” She trailed off, gripping her warm mug. Rhys was patient as she gathered her thoughts.  “I know what I did was… I’m sorry. I’m really sorry I did that.”

Rhys turned then, switching the flame off and moving to stand right in front of her. “Then why didn’t you answer my calls? My messages?”

Feyre shrugged. “I was busy, but also- also I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to apologize, but I didn't know how. I didn’t know if you’d let me, and I was afraid that you wouldn’t forgive me.”

“You know I could still easily not accept your apology, right?” His words intended to harm, but they were void of any real anger.

“I know.” She looked down where her hands fidgeted with the end of her braid. “But what you said, Rhys… it stuck with me. I know leaving like that was cruel, and I know what I’m doing right now is absolutely insane, but you were right. I couldn’t keep doing that to myself.” She cleared her throat and stood up straighter, finally looking Rhys in the eye. “So I would like to take you up on your offer, if you’re still willing to help me get where I want to be.”

He was silent for a beat, and then, “You’ve never said it.” Rhys didn’t need to specify for Feyre to know what he was talking about.

She should have known this was what truly bothered him, the fact that he gave her a piece of himself so delicate, that he entrusted her with his entire heart, and he had never witnessed her do the same.

“Rhysand,” She savored his name, took the time to appreciate the warmth as it rolled off her tongue. “That’s not true. I say it all the time. I say it to myself on the train ride home, I whisper it when I’m at work and the world feels hopeless.” He moved closer, so close they shared the air between them “It’s the only thing running through my mind when we text back and forth. You’re the last thing I think about before I fall asleep, and I lose myself in fantasies where there is nothing and no one in the world but you and I.” She swallowed thickly, fighting back tears. “I love you, Rhysand. Of course I love you.”

The kiss Rhys swept her into was more than enough of an answer to her earlier question. His hands wandered to the small of her back, beneath the hem of her sweater.

“Three hundred and sixty five days was too long,” His voice was husky. “Fourteen days was too damn long.” He pressed kisses to her cheek, her jaw, her throat. “Three hundred seventy five days was nearly the death of me.” His lips wandered - lower.

“Well it’s a good thing,” Feyre gasped. “That you won’t ever have to wait that long again.”

“Good,” Rhys’ hum reverberated through Feyre, a low rumble that warmed her from head to toe. “Because I am very, very, impatient.”

They used the blizzard as an excuse to not leave the house the next morning, opting instead to lounge about and appreciate each other’s company. Later. There would be time to go over plans and communicate with real estate agents and all of that, later. Because Feyre was staying for good. Right then, in that moment, they put it all aside in favor of celebrating together - keeping each other warm and safe long after the cold spell had passed.

…

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed :)

Here is the link to the master list for this fic! Here is my main master list 😊

#feysand #acotar gift exchange 2022 #feyre archeron #rhysand #acotar fanfiction

[insurrection-if]

I love the story can tell me some fun facts ab MC power🤨🤨

The MC's gift comes from their maternal side and is most common among the women of the family (though the MC has no connection to their maternal relatives other than their mother until the age of seven). Gifts have the potential to evolve over time, and even among siblings some children may be born more naturally attuned than others. Thus, for the MC, their Gift may summon new changes depending on how commonly it is used.

For the MC, their Gift is fully activated when they consume the blood of a fellow Gifted. The amount of blood determines the time limit the MC has with their Gift, but that does not mean the MC can utilize that Gift to its full potential upon a first taste. An advantage within the HAWKS is that the MC, if they so choose, has access to the blood reserves of the same batch of Gifted and (thus) can become more and more attuned to those specific Gifts and their extended uses over time. Certain Gifts may be so powerful, complex, or alien that they overwhelm the MC - though those kinds are most likely to be found among the CARDINALS.

When an MC drinks the blood of a Gifted, they become connected to their heart, mind, and soul. They may feel past sensations, experience current emotions, or become foreign in their own skin. The more baggage the person has, the more uncomfortable an experience it might be for the MC. ⊂(・﹏・⊂)

Perhaps the strangest quality of their Gift is the 'sense' it gives them towards the presence of other Gifted. The longer the span of time between doses of blood, the more the body and soul of the MC seem to ache for the taste of the Gifted. An infrequent drinker would feel their teeth thrum at the nearness of another Gifted, whereas a frequent drinker might be able to taste the familiar essence of a Gift in the air. This will be a tracked feature within the game as well!

Drinking non-Gifted blood has no effects on the MC. It will just be awkward for everyone involved. (´∀｀）The Supervising Agents will not appreciate random chomps, thank you very much. Unless, you know, circumstances start to change . . .

#mc #gift

[bebo-schmebo]

The Fire-Forged Pearl AU is getting a massive reboot!

♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡

What does that mean? Well- Basically, my brain get overflooded with ideas and now the au is a lot different from how it started. (Is it because I saw Nartothelar's Vampire Ingo art, got to thinking about vampires, and then got absolutely blasted by ideas that refused to leave until I expanded on them- which then resulted in a downward spiral and now i've changed the au? Mayhaps. You have no proof though)

Is this stupid? Probably, but I'm having fun worldbuilding honestly, so is it truly so bad? Eh.

If you wanna read the full rambled rundown on what I have so far, go ahead and read below! I'll be making more posts eventually, going into detail on certain things like Vampiric and Mortal houses, and if anyone wants to ask anything don't be afraid to message!

(TL;DR - Bebo has fucking lost their mind and has expanded the world building by a lot. Basically the benders are still a thing, and so is the Avatar, but no one remembers the history, and the more recent history involves Vampirism becoming a thing via absolute Legendary Pokémon fuckery. Benders are hailed as incredible Vampire Hunters and the Avatar is declared an Ultimate Weapon.)

It goes the way all things do eventually.

The Past fades off and becomes one with the New. The time of Aang and the Avatar are long past, records lost, history forgotten- overshadowed by the happenings of more recent ventures. The continents have shifted, and the world has changed. A planetary rebirth beyond measure, beyond understanding, as the world dies and begins anew.

Humans have always..amused many of the Legendaries. Their complexity and strange views of themselves and the world around them rousing a latent curiosity most of the Legends lost once life showed itself to be repetitive. Many mortals didn't know the Legends existed, and in equal measure some knew and feared Them- but some were different. Some of the mortals worshipped Them like gods.

But the lifespan of a Human is short, far shorter than Theirs, and many of the Legends found themselves despairing over the loss of some of Their favored mortals. It did not take long for a group of them to gather and devise a plan.

They could not revive those who have passed, nor could they gift eternal life, for doing so is a power only One possesses among them, and to request such gifts to be bestowed upon the very creatures Their Creator currently held no love for would be pointless. But they could do something close to such- extend Their mortals lifespans, give them tools to protect themselves beyond the Bending some could wield. That they could most certainly do.

They truly should have spoken to the Creator beforehand.

For when an imbalance is formed the world will fight to correct it, either by your own hand or the hand of another. Some could argue that the Legends cannot be blamed- they were young, foolish, learning from the world like newborn mortal babes and just as naive despite the well of knowledge and power gifted to them upon their birth by the Creator. They did not choose a price for the gift they gave to their Chosen- so Existence chose for them.

And so came the creation of the first Vampires.

It was of course a time of chaos, the Age of Blood and Fire as some called it. No one knew what the vampires were capable of, not even themselves- with Absolute Power corrupting absolutely. Death and rebirth in the millions. Factions on every corner of existence fighting eachother, taking nearly 500 years until a small faction of the Changed Ones managed to learn how to bend the hunger to their will and cease their own carnage. But of course, just as they begin to learn to better themselves and hide their existence, so to do the Mortals learn better ways to end them. Eventually things reach a point where anyone born with Bending is socially destined to become a hunter, with the Avatar becoming what some call the Divine Hunter given to them to fight the supposed beasts that aim to end them all.

Then Vampires learn to hide themselves, the Hunters pursue them like the Hounds of Hell, and the Legends watch the chaos with heavy hearts as their gift becomes a curse. It takes thousands of years for the world to settle, and by Ingo and Emmet's time Vampires, Benders, Humans, and Pokémon are living in (somewhat shaky) harmony. Vampire Hunting has become heavily regulated and is only utilized when a Vampire has chosen to go rogue and attempt to revive the "old ways", the world is teeming with Pokémon Trainers (Cooperation with Pokémon being one of the first things that became a social norm), and life while a bit complicated, has become far calmer than it used to be.

#submas #fire-forged pearl au #bebo schmebo #pokémon #vampirism

[raposarealm]

Magitober 2022 Catch-up #2

Look, I’m doing my best here, it’s not my fault psych meds knock you out cold better than an old grandmother with a rolling pin.

Anyways, I scanned these as well, and tried to crop them best I could. A number of these are just concept sketches, ‘cause if I actually tried give them justice, we’d be here until next year.

I’m skipping past Day 6, because I didn’t even finish the concepts for these. I’ll be posting the finished items in December instead, to coincide with a different celebration. If I can get them done in time, that is. Moving on!

Day 7 - Favourite event

So, my favorite event is actually Beachside Bonds, but since it seems like a number of other folks also chose that event, I went with my second favorite event instead: Otsukimi is After an Elegant Tea Party. This is only the rough scene layout, showing the track behind Mizuna Girl’s School, with the figure in the foreground standing in for Yukika, the event’s main character. Eventually I’ll get around to drawing the scene in its entirety, but not today.

Day 8 - Historical magical girl

I double-checked earlier that historically-themed magical girls could be used for this prompt, ‘cause a) I didn’t want to draw Tart characters twice, and b) I didn’t want to draw Tsuyu or Chizuru, their designs are so damned complex. I do love the Tokime, though, so I picked one of the units I don’t actually have, Ryoko. She doesn’t look feisty enough here, though, I feel. Whoops.

(Skipping Day 9, ‘Create a Doppel’, because I don’t have the slightest clue how to go about doing that.)

Day 10 - Oriko Magica

Oriko’s hat looks like a bucket to me, so have Oriko’s true final form: Oribucket! Yes, I’m very funny. 

Fun fact! That’s the first time I’ve drawn Oriko.

Day 11 - Favourite non-magical girl

Yes, it’s Tasuke, big surprise. I guess I’m fond of that exact brand of very tired dad who ends up involved with a larger cause that their kid also ends up a part of. (Points if you can guess any other characters that fall into that description!)

Anywho, earlier I joked in the Discord about a playable unit, except it’s just Tasuke throwing something ‘cause he doesn’t have a weapon exactly. I wanna do an actual fake card art at some point for this, because it’s too funny to me. So have these sketches in the meantime.

Day 12 - Create an Alt

Another one I mentioned (and actually uploaded) on Discord, but here we have Seika, Sailor version! There’s lots of small notes on this one explaining the specific details, but in a broader sense, I modeled her altered design here off of old-time sailors, specifically those found around the Aran Islands, which are shown with the cabled sweater mostly hidden beneath the overcoat (whoops!), and the scarf in aptly named “fisherman’s rib”. Her weapon is a modified belaying pin, which are used to hold down rigging to the ship’s sides. I’ll have to work on its design a bit, but I do plan once again to do a better drawing of this at some point, ‘cause a number of y’all in the Discord seemed to like it.

That’s all I’ve got strictly finished for now. I’m going to keep chugging away at the prompts, but I’ve got the feeling that my entries are going to extend well into November. 

#i haven't even drawn much outside of magitober this month either #been very Not Good(tm) #wow almost the whole month from one set to the next god #magia record #magitober #nanase yukika #well kinda yukika #otsukimi is after an elegant tea party #natsu ryoko #mikuni oriko #satomi tasuke #an honorary nayuta in there too #kumi seika #rapo draws #hey look i scanned them in like a responsible person

[fairycosmos]

how would you deal with a (guy) friend who apparently still has feelings for you (after having rejected him TWO Years ago, and who has a gf) who keeps being very hot and cold with you and manipulative, being mean and then acting like im imagining it, pushing me away but then being angry when i get a bit more distant, but is very good and old friends with your best friend (who knows about what hes doing btw and finds it very fucked up) youre never really gonna be able to cut him off also bc he used to be really fun to hang out with like i feel like im losing my mind girl i want to kill someone rn this has been going on nonstop for the past week but started half a year ago i feel homicidal i cried at work today bc of this i cant handle this lmao

hey, sorry to hear :( he sounds like a major cunt and honestly it's his issue to get over like. you don't owe him shit and certainly not romantic reciprocation LOL. if he can't accept that and he's still acting like a pissbaby about it 2 years later i mean. is he even worth being mates with, to you and your best friend? it's a good question to reconsider imo. though i appreciate that friendships can be really complex and much harder to just get over/let go of than ppl often think, so i was wondering if maybe you could start grey rocking him. it's obviously just a suggestion and feel free to ignore everything i'm saying if it's not resonating, but since you can't physically distance yourself from him due to ur mutual connections and shared history, then maybe emotionally distancing yourself is the next best thing.

grey rocking means you don't give him any sort of response to bounce off of, to manipulate, to get mad at next time he goes off on one. or even ever. you reduce your relationship down to the barest minimum for your own sake. when you do have to interact with him, it's direct and short lived and hopefully about some other third party. if he starts trying some weird guilt trippy shit or getting back on his manipulative crap, you don't reply or you shrug or you just give one-word non-answers. you don't engage with it, and you make it as irrelevant to your life as possible. then he has nothing to work with at all. look up the term if you're interested in how to utilize it as a communication device effectively, it can be super helpful when done right. i appreciate this isn't exactly a comfortable or easy answer, and that it might make things a little difficult with your friends but - he's already doing that. and at least this way, after you've practiced the habit enough and gotten used to phasing him out, you'll regain back some of ur inner peace and mental stability instead of being so anxious all the time. you don't deserve that. i know it sucks, and it must be unimaginably painful to essentially lose someone you care about like this, but it really seems like he's not the same person he used to be. like he's just causing more trouble than he's worth. it's not on you to make him act like a fucking adult, and that's the bottom line. you know?

though this is kind of a practical response to what you're going through, i wanna recognize that i know the emotions involved will inevitably make it really messy, and much harder to deal with than i can possibly conceive of as an outsider. i'm really, really sorry you're in this situation and that it's stressing you out so much, love. it seriously must be so panic inducing and frustrating :( he's a dick who clearly has no consideration for what he's putting you through, and if he cared about you that much on any level - platonic or otherwise - he would extend you some empathy. it's truly his responsibility to reflect and improve upon his behaviour, all you can do is decide how much you're willing to put up with, either literally or mentally. i really hope things start getting better for you soon, and that the weight of this is lifted from your shoulders little by little. sending you a huge hug rn. please just try to be kind to yourself as you work through this and figure out what's best for you, which is really what matters the most if you're at your wits end with him. do what you need to do to feel okay and breathe easy again, there's never anything wrong with that. take care. x

#anon

[77ngiez]

chihiros izurus and yukis

chihios

favorite thing about them: her influence!!!!! ough the way she still impacts the story beyond death!!!! least favorite thing about them: her canon writing favorite line: i dont pay much attention to lines but that one where she says she wants to destroy the past version of herslef.. NO! GIRL! GIRL! brOTP: i think her & kiibo r the bestest.. siblings <3 OTP: i lovelovelove her with. makis and sakuras and sayakas and mukuros and kaedes and mikakos and- *goes on for five hours* nOTP: i do not like her w kiibo bcs . like i said . siblings . also chimondo or chishimaru or chishimondo is Icky! or her with byakuya.. DIE! random headcanon: strawberry hairclips . also i think sjhe like steals items of clothing from ppl she likes unpopular opinion: TRANSGENDER song i associate with them: villain by teniwoha or digital/physical heart by vane lily favorite picture of them: babygirl pose

izurus

favorite thing about them: everything <3 esp her interactions w junko in dr3 lmao least favorite thing about them: her canon writing. not bcs its bad bcs it doesnt align w the version of her that exist in my brain favorite line: i think all her reactions to junko in dr3 r funny . or when she showed up at the end of ultra despair girls brOTP: her and hajime r fun.. he likes steals her deadname so she cant hold a grudge against him lol . HER AND IBUKI!!!!!!!!!!! also her and chihiro r good OTP: kamunagas <3 also a soft spot for kamushima nOTP: hm i guess her and either of the naegis? i see them as cousins (who stick to each other at family gatherings cuz the rest of their extended family is homo/transphobic more or less) random headcanon: when she gets older she goes into computer science <3 unpopular opinion: that she is her Own Fucking Person ffs song i associate with them: hahaha i have a whole playlist but uhh. fruiting bodies by rip or cutlery by yoh kamiyama r good ones. favorite picture of them: anything i draw of her <3

yukisss

favorite thing about them: ok i love how he seems like a Real Actual Person . does that make sense? like hes dumb sometimes and hes silly and gay . i love makoto but yuki is much more of a Real Actual Person then her least favorite thing about them: what the fuck was his chapter 3 motive . wtf favorite line: iii like some of the stuff he says in the bad end lol brOTP: him & akane !!!! also him & kizuna r good in their ftes, and the weed fic is making me appreciate him & kanatas dynamic also . also him & haru r funny OTP: KINJOMAEKINJOMAEKINJOMAE!!!!!!!!!! theyre soocanon so perfect for each other love love. also hes cute w yamato nOTP: i dont like him with akane or kizuna romantically. or any of the girls in general lol random headcanon: inferiority complex unpopular opinion: he is Literally a system . *gestures at chapter 6* song i associate with them: the monochrome mentality by rip <3 favorite picture of him: THAT ONE CG WHERE HE SLAPS TSURUGI HAHAHAHAH

#nana.txt #sorren stargloom #ask #character ask game #chihiro fujisaki #izutu kamukura #yuki maeda #dr1 #dr2 #dra

[icharchivist]

Godddd, that's so upsetting. You'd think Belial would maybe take a second to commiserate with Lucifer after a doppelganger match in Versus, but no, he's just like "Hey, this is just like that time you killed the love of my life, remember that? Did you have fun doing that? Cause that's a thing you did. You took him away from me. Did it feel good for you???"

And Lucifer, who very much also suffered having to do that, isn't even able to defend himself. Because he's dead. Because Belial had him killed.

He's so spiteful. :(

Maybe i'm a little too optimistic when it comes to them but while of course he's 99% spiteful, i do feel like there's a 1% of... actually acknowledging that it must have hurt Lucifer as well?

the Avatar mode tends to leave him unfiltered, he's in pain and he's going through and he tends to say all the spite he has to say at this point.

but this is also the same mode in which he acknowledged Lucifer must have felt lonely, that no one ever acknowledged what Lucifer has done while he tried to protect everyone, that no one remembers his hardwork.

I feel like Belial is aware, to an extend, of how much Lucifer has suffered through his own decisions as well.

and when he's in Avatar mode commenting about it, i feel like it comes also from a place of understanding it, and feeling for Lucifer's own struggle.

But yeah, Belial is spiteful first. Belial thinks about how things were taken away from him first. This sentence is still him basically taunting Lucifer, whom he had got killed at this point, because was it worth it? Was taking everything i cared about worth it? Was remaining hollow and alone and unloved for thousand of years worth it for you?

and i think it's just a complex feeling in general where he both acknowledge Lucifer's pain, perhaps also out of a place of slight compassion, but can't let go of how much he resents Lucifer for all of this.

Like yeah he's rubbing salt in the wound, but he's also acknowledging it must have been painful for him as well.

And personally i feel like, him still addressing Lucifer like that after he got him killed show just how all the aspect of this spite is still carrying Belial. Perhaps he is also facing how hollow it feels to have played a part into killing him as well.

But! i'm really on the optimistic "they must have cared for each other, in the past, and no matter how their relationship rotted, there must be a trace of that, somewhere" camp when it comes to these two so this ends up being the angle in which i read this line and why it hurts me more than just "lol Belial so petty"

it's just. sad.

#ichareply #anonymous #ichafantalks gbf

[thepictureofsdr]

i saw your post about alastair and now im curious about all ut thoughts on Matthew

this ask. is like half a year old. I am So Sorry however i have thought about it literally every day bc my feelings on him are so… complex

i think i can break it down into two categories: 1. his character in context of the whole series, and 2. the bubble of his character, not taking into account his actions and impact towards other people

1. um. he makes me SO MAD. listen i have said time and time again that the thieves dont owe alastair forgiveness but that doesn’t extend to matthew actively trying to fuck up alastairs life. what pisses me off is that this whole agenda is centered on matthews wants, its not because he cares about his friends and wants them away from someone he thinks is bad. when he tells thomas about alastair at the party, there’s no concern for thomas. hes told at their best friends party, probably the first night of happiness since his sister was killed, while intoxicated and very much in public. math didnt take thomas aside or wait for a better moment. [I DONT HATE MATH I JUST LOVE THOMAS] matthew doesnt like alastair, so no one can like alastair, even if he has to hurt others to obtain that. hes very clearly stringing the other thieves along in this its just for him, they all like alastair or dont care about the past. kit doesnt give a shit, james respects alastair to a degree and thomas is head over heels. he even manages to make cordelia call his manipulation of alastair “kind.” he condemns alastair for spreading rumours yet he himself has deemed spreading gossip fun [i can’t STAND hypocrisy its a very easy way to get me to dislike a character unfortunately] he unconsciously blames alastair for the death of his sibling and now alastair and thomas are paying for it. understanding where a mental dip and lashing out are coming from can happen at the same time as not agreeing with it. i understand why matthew acts like this but that doesnt mean i can just ignore how matthew pushed alastair back down to his lowest yknow?

2. i adore him, and i sympathize with him, and he makes my heart hurt in every possible way. he was my tied fave character in tales, this young energetic boy who wants to be friends w the quiet kid, who stood up for his friends, and my heart SHATTERED when i read the poison story. at his core hes a genuinely good person, so i can’t even imagine the guilt thats been crushing him all these years. not only the pain of hurting his mother but killing the baby, my heart breaks every time i think about him and what he’s been carrying all these years. it hurts to even think about this burden hes placed on himself, the silence and ever growing self hatred and inherent belief that hes a problem. all i want is for him to receive that forgiveness hes been desperately needing for so long, and for him to see himself through the eyes of others, for him to see that goodness he possesses and the light he brings into the lives of others and for him to be loved as he so deserves.

there’s more but i cant lie im really scared of matthew lovers but also id feel so bad leaving this in drafts 😭 all in all my feelings on him are so complicated, i love him but hes also hurt someone else i love, hes a walking grey area. but i dont hate him, i feel like a lot of people are quick to assume any criticism is pure unfiltered hatred which clearly isn’t true considering my fave is ALASTAIR talk about someone who’s actions can be criticized 😭

#tysm for the ask!!! <3 #answered ask