#▽ out of character. ｢ THE BEST OF US CAN FIND HAPPINESS IN MISERY. ｣

[ozzgin]

Hii I was wondering if u could do a yandere Kazuya x yn x yandere Daitou I’m not sure if u do character x yn x character tho

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader Spinoff

Two yakuza men who have fallen in love with their new foreign tenant. A what-if spinoff to the original story for that love triangle spice. Happy Valentine's Day!

Content: female reader, NSFW, organized crime, obsessive behavior, violence, BDSM themes (choking), threats

Credits: My boyfriend for giving me the Daitou smut idea

[Main Story] | [General Headcanons]

Kazuya is sitting on the sidewalk, checking his watch occasionally and tapping his foot. The cigarette seems to have been forgotten, hanging lowly from his lips.

"Sorry I'm late." Daitou speedily makes his way towards his friend, smiling awkwardly.

"Where the fuck were you, man? We don't know how much time we have before the cops arrive."

"Uh uh, leave it to me." The cheeky grin doesn't leave his face as he pulls out his gun and carefully but swiftly inspects the barrel and safety one final time. "(Y/N) needed some help with the mailbox. I couldn't just say no, ya know?"

The blonde man's eyebrows raise for a second, but he quickly recollects himself.

"I see. That's good."

"She asked me to show her the area tomorrow, so I'll be working extra hard tonight. Hehe."

"That's good."

Daitou glances at Kazuya, somewhat wary.

"You okay?"

Stupid question. What's he supposed to answer? Yeah, he loves waiting like a dumbass while his friend flirts with the new tenant, who conveniently happens to be a cute foreigner, who's been unexpectedly nice and relaxed around them despite them explicitly stating they're part of the Japanese mafia. Fucking hell. It doesn't help that this idiot is as obvious as a blaring, blinding cluster of ads smack in the middle of Kabukicho. He can tell from miles away that Daitou's completely fallen for her. Just like that, in an instant.

They've been partners and best friends for years now, so the natural reaction would be happiness, right? Daitou has always been one scary motherfucker. Even the seniors scramble when he's in the room, let alone women. For him to find someone that isn't bothered the slightest by his appearance or background should be a celebratory occasion. Kazuya should be rooting for him. Except, well, he fell for you just as hard. Tough luck.

The Bushido moral code, often used as guidance within their own lifestyle, covers matters such as loyalty and honesty quite extensively. A true warrior remains fiercely faithful to his master or companions. And yet, love interests are more of a grey area, especially if they happen to overlap. Who dictates the proper etiquette for this dilemma? To whom is loyalty directed towards? Truth be told, Kazuya couldn’t care less. He’s always been a man of vice, impulsive and greedy. If he wants something, he takes it.

The trouble starts when the other person is of the same mindset. Two ferocious predators eyeing the same victim.

***

You fiddle next to the tall, dark-haired man. Similarly, Daitou is avoiding eye contact, looking around in hopes of finding something to focus on. It’s the first time he’s come over since the incident. After his little mission with Kazuya, he was tasked to “interrogate” some of the remaining members to get even more names for the hitlist. He’d completely forgotten about his promise to show you the neighborhood. Hands sticky with blood, he was in the middle of his signature act of benevolence, putting the lad out of his misery.

It was around that time you decided to be the one picking him up instead, for your grand tour. Your knocks on the door remained unheard, however, so you decided to politely make your way in.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not-”

You froze in place. A man (you assumed at least based on the few visible traits left), tied up on the chair, canvas bag roped around his head. Daitou’s hands were secured around his throat. In the few seconds of silence, you could hear a muffled wheezing, as the stranger’s chest heaved in short convulsions.

“-intruding.” You mumbled, regaining your speech.

He messed up, didn’t he? Daitou sighs and slicks his hair back. He can’t blame you if you’re now terrified of him. He had to come over for some tenant checkups and you’ve been maintaining a safe distance from him during his entire visit. What can he possibly tell you? “Hey, I know I threatened to chop you up and you’ve now witnessed firsthand I’m a legit murderer, but, uh…I have a crush on you? Dinner at seven?”

You’re terrified alright, but not of his deeds. Rather, your newly discovered perversion as a consequence of the gory scene. It’s not that you relished in the torment of another. It’s the other details that left you reminiscing. Daitou’s imposing frame, the unbuttoned shirt revealing his traditional tattoos glistening in beads of sweat, his flexed, brawny arms, and large hands. You’re scared of your shamelessness. It can’t be normal. Yet you can’t stop thinking about it. Just a glimpse into this memory and your cheeks become burning red.

“I’ll be on my way then”, the yakuza announces politely.

Though he immediately stops in his tracks, and you realize you’ve unconsciously grabbed onto his sleeve. Uh oh. What now? You mumble an apology without releasing your hold. Being this close to him makes your heart drum inside your chest.

To hell with it.

“I might say something terribly inappropriate right now, but…”

“Sorry?” He stares at you, dumbfounded.

“Do you have anything planned after this?” You ask quietly.

“N-no?”

“Would you mind staying over?”

“Huh? Sure…w-what for?” His mouth is dry, and he searches your eyes in confusion.

“You know…” Choke me until I pass out and such, you think to yourself sarcastically.

He turns to face you, lips pursed awkwardly.

“You’ll have to be clear with me, Miss (Y/N). I’m not good with all this tiptoeing around and I might get the wrong idea.”

Your ears perk up hearing his final words, a deep blush now spreading over your flustered features.

“What wrong idea?”

Daitou fidgets with his glass prosthetic nervously.

“Well, uh, a man can only dream, ya know? Especially around a cute girl like you.” He reveals with a stutter.

“Suppose I’d be willing to go along with anything on your mind. What then?” You twirl your hair, gazing shyly at the floor. Not even you can believe the audacity leaving your lips.

The tall man steps before you, towering above with a certain gleam in his eye. It’s yearning. Your knees weaken.

“Don’t tease me, please. I can hardly control myself around you as it is.”

You release his sleeve and instead cling onto his shirt with both hands, looking up through your lashes.

“I’m dead serious.”

He ponders his next move with a click of the tongue, then cups your cheeks between his hands and lowers himself until his hot breath tickles your nose.

“Are you? There’s no going back after this. Can you handle it?” His voice is suddenly deeper, raspier.

Before you can respond, you feel yourself lifted and you yelp, surprised, instinctively wrapping your limbs around the yakuza. In between the greedy kisses that leave your lips bruised and swollen, you don’t notice the movement back towards the seating area.

As you pull away to gasp for air, he throws you onto the couch, flipping you over in the process so that you’re kneeling away from him. Your nails dig into the soft fabric of the sofa. You hear Daitou unbuckle his belt and you squeeze your legs together, heavily aroused. He presses his palm gently into your back, arching it. You sense his fingers grazing over your core and you whimper.

“G-go on, please.” You beg, swaying your hips tentatively. “I really can’t wait anymore.”

“As you wish, Miss.” He reassures you with a grin.

He adjusts himself and carefully makes his way in. You don’t have time to enjoy the feeling; following almost instantly is his belt looped around your neck, tightening under his grip as he pulls the ends towards him. Your head is forced back, and you groan. You can hear the leather stretch and creak over your assaulted skin, the constriction briefly cutting your oxygen intake. Hot drool trickles down your chin and your eyes almost roll back in pleasure.

“Look at my little Miss (Y/N), taking it like a champion.” He bends over and bites your earlobe playfully. “Does that mean I can be as rough as I want?”

You nod erratically.

The grip around your throat intensifies and your vision becomes blurry.

“Hey, don’t pass out now.” He inserts two fingers in your mouth, pulling you by the cheek and tilting your head to look him in the eye. “Not before you show me that you understand your situation. You’re mine. Is that clear?”

He drags his fingers downwards, aiding your response as you struggle to contract your muscles.

“Attagirl.” He concludes, satisfied.

In the morning you wake up with a dreadful soreness, and you can quickly see why. Your body is peppered in bruises. Daitou is smoking by the window and promptly flicks his cigarette out once he realizes you’re no longer asleep.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” He begins, remorseful, and squats in front of the bed. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“I will need a day or two to recover before the next time, but otherwise I’m fine.”

He beams with delight upon registering your words: next time. You can’t help but snicker at his childish enthusiasm. It’s a mystery how Daitou can switch between ruthless killer and cute partner with such ease.

Although it’s no secret, really. It’s you.

***

“Thanks for driving me home, Kazuya.”

You smile and unbuckle your seatbelt, reaching for the door handle. Daitou has been busy with work for the past days, so Kazuya took his place in looking after your needs.

“Huh?” You rattle the grab handle one more time to make sure. “It’s still locked.”

The blonde raps the wheel impatiently with his fingers. Is he to silently accept his loss? Does it even count as a loss when he hasn’t even had the chance to present his piece? Daitou has been quiet about it, but he can read that bastard like an open book. Something definitely happened between the two of you and the mere thought drives him insane.

Ah, this is so unlike him. There are few things he cares about. His pride, his Family’s honor, his freedom. Women aren’t exactly on that list, yet somehow, you’ve snuck your way to the very top of priorities and he’s realizing it just now. It’s becoming harder to ignore his maddening urge to have you. Out of all the things…He’d give Daitou the world. But not you. He can’t. He can’t.

“Kazuya? Are you listening? You forgot to unlock the door.”

“Say, (Y/N) …ever fucked in a car before?”

“What?” You ask, baffled.

“Come here for a moment.” He swiftly slides his seat all the way back and pats his thigh.

“Are you out of your mind?”

He answers your inquiry by pulling out his handgun and lazily pointing it towards you.

“I’m only going to ask once.”

You clumsily climb over the center console, straddling the yakuza with a slight pout.

“Someone’s in a sour mood, that’s for sure”, you complain. “It’s not even loaded.”

“Even I’m not crazy enough to risk shooting my Princess.” He smiles apologetically, throwing the gun on the backseat. “I thought it’d be more threatening that way.”

He removes a strand of hair from your face, gazing at you intently. His hand lingers for a second, before sliding its way down, tracing the side of your body. You shiver.

“Can you truly blame me when there’s such a pretty girl right before my eyes?” The blonde exhales and focuses on your shirt instead. “Won’t you let me prove myself?”

From this distance, despite the dim lights, you can discern his features in agonizing detail. His long lashes, his fleshy lips, currently parted, the luscious locks of hair casually thrown back. Kazuya has always been effortlessly handsome. It’s not just his good looks, but his overflowing charisma. He always knows exactly what to say and do. A devilish power to have over people, and you’re presently his victim.

His slender fingers play with your first button and cheekily undo it. You can only observe it, entranced. Your legs are weak, and your arms are stuck in place, resting limply over his broad shoulders.

“May I?” He glances up at you with a pleading expression. “I won’t be able to hold back afterwards.”

You bite your lower lip, distracted. Whether or not this is a wise choice, you can’t currently tell. You squirm in his lap and suddenly feel the pressure coming from below.

“Go ahead.” You finally confess.

He doesn’t hesitate and slithers his hand underneath your shirt, popping the rest of the buttons open. Like a hungry animal that has stumbled upon a feast, he sinks his teeth into your neck, leaving mean, wet kisses on his way down.

One hand is greedily kneading your curves, encouraged by your soft whimpers, while the other strokes your thigh in anticipation. With a bit of readjustment, he finds the right spot between your trembling legs. You jolt at the sensation of his cold fingers.

“My, you’re already dripping. How lewd.” He whispers between breaths. “Do you want it now?”

He nonchalantly slips out and undoes his own pants. You lift yourself expectantly and let a moan escape your lips upon feeling the erection throbbing right below.

“Well then, can’t forget our manners, can we?” He announces, visibly excited. “What should I do?”

You glare at him, feverish.

“Stop teasing me.”

“Come on, be a good girl. Tell me what to do and I will do it, Love.”

Why, this…You lower yourself to his ear and answer in a lulled whine.

“Isn’t it obvious? I want you to fuck me.”

Words enough to send the blonde man over the edge. He abruptly clutches your thighs for support, easing himself in before continuing with increasingly aggressive thrusts. Husky whimpers roll out of his mouth, desperate and starved.

“Oh, I’ve waited so long for this. My darling, perfect little (Y/N).” He presses his forehead into your chest, indulging in the moment. “Now say that you’re mine. Please. Please say it.”

“I’m…ah…I’m all yours, Kazuya.” You manage to blurt out, growing dizzy.

“That’s my girl. Such a good girl.”

Once the deed is finished, you flop your head over his chest, trying to catch your breath. Kazuya smoothens your clothes meticulously, holding you with one arm for support. Can’t leave a lady all disheveled, after all.

“Won’t Daitou be upset?” You point out, somewhat anxiously.

His muscles are tense for a second and he furrows his brows.

“That’s one strange way to thank me for making you come at least twice. Mentioning another man’s name.”

“I’m just…” your words trail off.

“What? Worried? You think I can’t handle it or something?”

Far from the truth. Both Kazuya and Daitou are violent, dangerous men. Given their stubbornness, you’re rather certain they’d end up killing each other. Not your favorite outcome.

“I don’t want either of you to get hurt.”

He sighs loudly.

“I’ll tell you what. Under normal circumstances, I’d probably dismember whoever had the guts to even entertain the idea of meddling with you. But…just because it’s Daitou, I might be willing to share. Nothing more than that.”

Kazuya ruffles your hair and chuckles.

“Aren’t you glad I’m such a diplomat, Love?”

“More like batshit crazy, both of you.” You retort, stretching.

[hermaeusmorax]

In Their Shadow

CHARACTERS: Viktor x reader x Jayce

SUMMARY: Viktor entertains a one-sided love with his two best friends, Jayce and you.

WARNINGS: angst with NO happy ending and NO comfort, I wanted to try something different!

A/N: fortunatelly the Arcane brainrot brought me back from my cave, be nice 'cause I'm rusty af in writing atm (as expected after 4 years!). I am also taking more Arcane requests yay! (rules for requests)

Viktor, Jayce and Y/N. The Three Musketeers. If you saw one of them around, no doubt the other two were somewhere nearby, inseparable as they are. What others looking from outside didn't see though, was Viktor's growing resentment towards his two best friends.

It didn't start like this, Viktor used to love them. Love, love them. He still does, but it's twisted now, love and anger so mixed together it's impossible to distinguish which is which. His affection began souring through disappointment at first, Viktor felt disappointed in Jayce for being distracted, their - yours - project suddenly wasn't Jayce's main concern anymore, you were.

When you weren't around Jayce would pester Viktor with daydreams and questions about you "Can you help me find out what's Y/N's type, man? You're way closer to Y/N than I am, please?". Jayce's eyes would shine and his cheeks flush, so enthralled in his own feelings he failed to notice Viktor's growing irritation.

Along the many years the three of you spent together working on Hextech, Viktor couldn't help but be in awe of his two companions. He fell in love with Jayce's passion and with your bright mind. Viktor wanted nothing more than to spend eternity alongside you, picking your brains. But as the two of you grew closer, specially after Jayce's reciprocated advances towards you, you both naturally drifted apart from him.

Viktor was forced to watch on the sidelines, drowning in the darkness of the long shadow your bright relationship cast over him. Left only to daydream about what it could've been like, had he had the courage to tell you or Jayce of his true feelings. Left only to reminisce about the early days of your shared research, when he indeed had the both of you to himself. As an attempt to anesthetize his festering wound, he threw himself at his work on the Hexcore.

Yet another day comes to an end, with Jayce leaving the laboratory with you glued to his arm, both dressed in fancy clothes for a dinner party you were supposed to attend, together, of course. You wave a gloved hand at Viktor, bidding him a gentle goodbye. It irritated him how oblivious you both could be to his true feelings, scientists of the damn year! As the door closed behind you, Viktor was left alone in the dark of the laboratory, so focused on his own misery that he missed when Sky knocked at the door. "Viktor? You still here?" she shyly called from the other side, smile faltering at the deafening silence that followed.

Sky knew he was still there, as it was an habit of his. The tinkering sounds and occasional curses that echoed through the door were just extra proof of his presence. Viktor was so preocuppied with the shadow your and Jayce's love had cast over him, he didn't notice he had cast one of his own. Such is life.

A/N: it physically hurt me to do him so dirty I'M SORRY! Promise to do lots of indulgent and Viktor-focused pieces too, I'm getting my writing groove back on ;).

[franki-lew-yo]

Mouthwashing and fandom discourse as a whole.

So I recently explored the tag for Mouthwashing after watching two no-commentary lets plays of the entire game. I'm seeing a lot of posts pointing out how annoying it is that this game has a fandom and that this fandom is doing fandom things and stanning/"uwu-ing" characters from this incredibly nuanced, raw and not-fandom friendly piece of art. To paraphrase someone I just saw "you don't want mouthwashing; you want Among Us ocs but darker". And

for a moment I wanna talk a bit about how I absolutely agree with this statement while also talk for a moment about how and why fandom and catharsis fan fics exist and shouldn't be shamed inherently. Or, I guess, not in theory.

The "come on! Stop trying to make everything shippable/cutsey/memey/have a happy AU and face unpleasant emotions someone's trying to tell you about!" is SUCH a vibe with me. I felt this way in the 9 fandom a lot as a kid and that was just 9. Mouthwashing is like 9 on bathsalts emotions and theme-wise. It's a game where you play as both the flawed but caring captain of a doomed ship who's life becomes a Johnny Got His Gun-nightmare, and also a deplorable, hateful piece of garbage who got himself and his friend in that nightmare situation to begin with. Both characters, moreso Jimmy but Curly too, are the causes of their own misery. They're complex dealing with one of the two committing SA and doing nothing really about it/dodging the responsibility and humanity needed to support the victim whom they've wronged.

I fully admit it's groan-inducing seeing people be shipped up Anya with anyone on the ship considering what happens to her. On a pure pr level I think it would be illegal even since romance between coworkers in a workplace is considered conflict of interest/harassment as it so often is. (NOT that what Jimmy did to Anya is 'romance'. I'm talking about the shipping of Anya with the other three guys. I know there's people out there who do ship Jimmy/Anya; you don't have to tell or show me I believe you and also I already hate it.) It's ALSO groan inducing to see people ship Curly and Jimmy considering all Curly does to him- and just the fact that this incredibly tragic, toxic one-way-gone array friendship is reduced to "toxic yaoi teehee". It's annoying AT BEST.

I get the hostility towards fandom-tastic stanning and fandom behavior in general...the issue is it's still hostility and I wish some of you guys got that. Like it or not (you don't have to like it) fandom culture is inevitable to some degree. You can and should complain about your hangups but that's all you can do besides avoiding tags and just not engaging with that side of the fandom at some point. Save your call-outs and rage for when you see active deplorable bs being committed that people are excusing for dumb fandom reasons, like lolicon, hatespeech or harassment. I'm sorry but you can not actively go after and try and take down the innocent people involved in your trigger that aren't directly hurting you by liking the thing that triggers you; ie. people who get all shipping and fandom-brained about Mouthwashing's characters which you find offensive to do at all.

This type of convo is the crux of most 'antifandom' v profandom discourse in general; for Antis I think there ought to be a difference between the people that set you off bcuz of fandom nonsense vs sociopathic 'got mine'-creepiness. There's a difference between someone who draws r34 v Shadbase. For profandom types you out to face the fact that yes- maybe NOT EVERYTHING is meant to be shippable/memed. Maybe try practicing that a bit. Yeah it's most harmless and makes you feel happy, but considering how people outside of your hyperfixation-of-a-hyperfixation is a thing. The thing about the "don't like, don't read" argument is it goes both ways. If you're truly a "good fan" like you say you are than you have to realize that people will not like your problematicisms. Learn to interact with characters and stories without the possibility of shipping sometimes- or at least understand that that's the crux of what makes a story like Mouthwashing engaging, even if you also partake in the fandumb and AUs on the side. You can call Curly your babygirl and ship him or make him happy all you want but PLEASE acoknowledge that the game doesn't woobify him or excuse what he did to Anya as well. You can make some kind of AU scenario where Jimmy gets out somehow and becomes/is a slightly better person for all I care...so long as you PLEASE remember that he is canonically a r@pist and awful. Also, even if I'm okay with your fan decisions, note that myself and others are still going to be critical and be upset that you wrote it at all because of what kind of character Jimmy is. 'Critical' =/= declaring something evil.

Fandom behaviors are not souly a destructive parasocial outcome of brainrot; they're also a natural reaction to what happens canonically and the emotions you have to experiencing a story. It's normal and rational to sympathize and love Curly and despise and hate Jimmy. You can love/like/enjoy a problematic-to-DEEPLY DISTURBED-character based on their complexity in canon. They are fiction. They are not real. The reason you are so invested with them is because of that complexity and yes because they are fiction they are your 'toy' and you can doll them up in any kind of speculative AU crap you make. That's fanfiction, baby. Make yourself a fixit fic if you really want

BUT-

remember: it stays as a fixit fic. DO NOT cross the streams, or insist that your active misreading of the text is the same as the text itself. EVER. You should care about your special interest's escapism as a means of self-care. What you shouldn't do is demand that EVERYONE ELSE LOVE your coping mechanism and that any complaints by people on their own terms on their own blogs is #badfaith or an inherent attack against you. It isn't. You'll know when it is an attack against you and that's when you, the profandom-type, need to be prepared and save your call-out posts and blocklist for.

To me that's the fragility to fandom debates and fandom as a whole. You can not/should not police or control an entire group of people and how they perceive or interact with media. That's not fair and it's definitely not sporting or decent of you in a community. You have to share your community -your fandom- with people who hate ur fav and people who love your least fav. Agreeing to disagree means not tagging your nOTP as their shipname or by tagging your shipname loud and clear. It means filtering out posts with those topics but enjoying and/or reblogging the fandom takes you do share with your fellow fandom-mite that obviously posts abt those topics.

When schmit REALLY goes down and some assface reviewer/fan/SOMETHING is being an assface or doing something amoral under the guise of fandom-ing, that's where you out to put your foot down. Callouts and complaints are for people who did an egregious thing and refuse to take responsibility(lol) for it. They're not for "soandso likes the thing that triggers me, kill them"/"so and so is hating on the thing I'm kinning because it triggers them, kill them". Be an adult.

Your DNI lists should consist of "lolicon defenders" not "proshippers", as those ARE NOT one in the same. Same goes the other way around. List off "bigots, purity culture bs", not "antis and critics". These positions ARE NOT interchangeable. If you make them interchangeable than you're making things a lot harder for yourself.

-sincerely, a message from autistic ADHD/OCD woman who likes horror and media analysis as much as she loves popcorn fanfic schlock.

We don't all have to be friends and buddybuds. I just hate us hurting each other over being different kind of fandom-folk rather than for when someone sincerely mucks up and does something bad. Can't we all stick to our guns and just boycott Harry Potter like god intended?

[glisten-inthedark]

You wanna know what gives me confidence for Byler? The show.

That's it.

Because I promise you, if you watch the show objectively everything is there. You don't even have to look at camera angles, lighting, or signs that point towards closets, the information you need is there.

And it isn't even shit people made up (****** I'm looking at you, even though I ship it). It's there, I fucking saw it before even shipping it.

And at first, I assumed I was seeing shit. To be honest I mostly brushed it off, but when we found out that Will was gay and in love with Mike, it clicked.

My favorite mental exercise is: If Will was a girl, how would you perceive their scenes? All you have to do it's switch up their genders and it's not even up for debate because we all know everyone would eat that shit up.

I mean, a boy relentlessly looks for a girl in the woods, stays by this girl' side, tells her they'll go crazy together while touching her hand, tells her that asking her to be his his friend was the best thing he's ever done, fights with her but actually tries to apologize, then we find that said girl has been in love with her friend but it's lying so that this friend could be happy. Tell me that if this was the case there wouldn't be like 30000 fics of that couple on Ao3 and millions of people begging the showrunners to make them canon? Tell me, I fucking dare you.

And at this point I'm like a broken record but I am going to repeat myself.

WILL BYERS BEING IN LOVE WITH MIKE WHEELER does not make a difference to the plot. It doesn't.

He could have been gay and not be in love. If the life lesson was: "Will has to learn to accept himself as gay, and to love himself and understand he isn't a mistake" they could've done without the love. They could've given him exploring that part of himself in California, they could've presented another gay character that taught him that.

They could've fixed El and Mike's relationship without Will's love. We've seen them doing it before. Will could've helped by just being Mike's friend.

So can we ask ourselves this itsy bitsy question: Why make Will in love with Mike in the first place? Why make him say not once, but twice, that he and Mike could play DnD together for the rest of their lives which, if you're not good at subtext, means he sees himself with Mike by his side as long as he lives if all they're going to do is bring him more misery?

Because I'm going to be honest, with the way they wrote this love Will has, they literally didn't gave themselves a easy way out. They made sure we knew it was real, it was unconditional and that it would never change. We didn't make it up, they gave us that information with their writing.

So again, ask yourselves why that is.

Because whatever non Byler explanation I try to come up with doesn't make sense.

Queerbaiting? More like Bylerbaiting at this point considering Will is gay and again, he could've been in love with anyone else or not be a queer character experiencing love at all.

Make Mil*even stronger? It literally did the opposite, the ship is going down in flames and we all know it. Their relationship isn't healthy, El's arc isn't about romantic love and the painting which was the only reason Mike proclaimed the romantic love he doesn't feel literally came from Will.

So... Again. Why?

[featherwurm]

At some point between Moonrise and Baulder's Gate - the crew stops to clean up a bit, and I have an excessive amount of thoughts about social bathing as it applies to the tadfools:

Baulder’s Gate features several bathhouses (including the landmark location Hissing Stones) and they seem geared to a wide variety of clientele; pragmatic (bathing), personal (social and solicitous), and political (a place of meeting) – it can be assumed that group bathing is a norm in the city at all social strata, although wealthier private residences also undoubtedly feature private bathing arrangements. Gender divides do not seem common in Baulder’s Gate on a whole*, and co-ed bathing could likely be a norm as well.

Individual headcanons below the cut - your mileage may vary, this is pulled roughly out of D&D lore, a few character interactions, thoughts about Roman baths, and my ass;

Tav – From the lower middle class of Baulder’s Gate, she grew up with normal family outings to the bathhouse to clean and socialize. In the monastery, cohabiting with a variety of people, group bathing was also a norm (also just… hanging out on a hot day with your buddies or whatever.) Her order views the body kindly, though not worshipfully, and does not view it as a vehicle of shame. It should be cared for with attention and thought to best use it, and while pleasure is inherent (and unshameful) to human nature it is not fundamentally a part of just being naked. She finds nothing out of the ordinary to toss off your clothes and jump in the river with your buddies.

Karlach – Also from Baulder’s Gate’s lower social strata, she too grew up using bathhouses as a place to get clean, have some fun, and be extremely bored while your parents caught up on the gossip. Similarly, working for Gortash meant the occasional political meeting at the Hissing Stones or other locations (a place you CERTAINLY want to take your bodyguard – although she wouldn’t get to enjoy the bathhouse while working). Living in Avernus for a decade in a militaristic setting has also thrown off her sense of normalcy – if you ever get a chance to clean up there (extremely rarely) you take it whatever the circumstance may be. She’s happy to get naked, get in the water, and get clean whoever the company is. (As little children, both Tav and Karlach had to be actively removed from fountains, the river, and suitably large puddles when they presented the opportunity to be in the water – which both of them love.)

Shadowheart – Sharans and the enclave she is from seem to have some issues with pleasures of the flesh and see them as negative and to be shunned. Life is misery and pain and you better get used to it through daily practice. Given her lack of memory of any childhood normalcy, any time spent around other people in a casual way is long gone. She does not seem to have come out of it with bodily shame herself, but undoubtedly finds the idea of just being comfortable with nudity in a platonic way to be alien. Given that she can’t swim, it adds another layer of discomfort being in the water. It takes her some time to warm up to jumping in the river with the others, but she does come round, although she sticks to the shallows until she learns to swim.

Lae’zel – Githyanki don’t seem to have any shame about bodies, at least given their various styling of armor and clothing. Given their almost eusocial social structure and militaristic culture, it’s unlikely there’s much stigma over the body or that of others. She’s certainly with a peculiar group here, but whatever, you need to get the blood out of your hair eventually – the others are sort of strange-looking to her eye for a while though (Shadowheart, Gale, and Astarion seeming like the frail offspring of some small animal with their soft pinkness, Karlach, Tav, and Wyll resembling more of carapaced insects with their ridges and horns.)

Gale – While Waterdeep has it’s spas, these seem more places of relaxation and retreat rather than practical bathing establishments (he does like a nice relaxing treatment – in a robe of course.) Gale has spent so long cooped up in his tower having a weird relationship with the goddess of magic that the idea of just… casually being naked with other mortal people is probably completely off his radar. It is not culturally or personally familiar to him, and feels a little uncouth. He’s going to find a reason to go cook and then clean up by himself later.

Astarion – Speaking of any sense of normalcy having been long gone, his only real use of Baulder’s Gate’s bathhouses has been picking up victims for the last couple centuries (almost always in a sexual context.) Approaching casual bathing with others as any kind of normal is something that will take a reserved approach and a lot of patience as with most things with him. He’s snarky and weird about the whole thing, but it’s to be expected. He later more politely refuses as he works on boundaries and sorts himself out – there’s not enough time in game to sort this shit out. Plus he smells a bit of death no matter what he does – apart from physically getting stuff off his body he’s more reliant on perfume than bathing to feel clean.

Wyll – From Baulder’s Gate and used to playing around wherever he feels like it, it’s not foreign to him to enjoy a bathhouse or river romp (especially in light of various political bargaining happening in the baths) but being from the upper class of Baulder’s Gate he’s not the most casual about it. In his time away from Baulder’s Gate, and being as young as he was, he’s become a little sensitive about it, given his gentlemanly approach developed through his time in the wilds. Still though, it wouldn’t put him off, prior to Mizora’s transformation of him, at which point he’s got body image issues to work through before he’s comfortable again. The tieflings (Karlach and Tav) try to be re-assuring but they come on a little strong about it (hard not to – what he’s viewing as demonic punishment they view as normal for their own bodies – horns and ridges and all.)

Halsin – Look we all know the man likes to be naked and “one with nature”. Bodies are normal and being naked is natural. He’s not caught up on anything, although he might be literally a bear about it if he’s comfortable.

Jahira – Another Baulder’s Gate native who’s used to the city’s amenities. She is much too old and much too traveled to be fussed about who’s around at the evening wash up. She might pretend to be offended or ruffled (or too casual) if she thinks it’s funny – otherwise she’s too busy soaking her joints to care.

Minsc – Minsc is just happy to be here. Are we bonding by bathing together? Ok! But be careful of Boo – he is a delicate creature and gets very angry if he gets soap in his eyes.

Minthara… wasn’t in my playthough, sorry. But I’m certain she’d have the opinion that it’s normal for the ladies to socialize and such while washing but involving the men is bizarre and tasteless.

*Given the normalcy of non-binary, trans, and intersex bodies and identities in BG3, which I personally love.

[lendeah]

The currents of destiny

Chapter 3: Guilt and remorse.

Summary: In his third vision, Astarion observes himself trapped in a relentless cycle of thirst, remorse, and yearning within the shadows, witnessing others moving forward while he goes back to familiar patterns of the past. Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader/Tav Word Count: 3.6k Tags: Heavy Angst, Psychological Trauma, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Psychological Torture (kind of), Emotional Manipulation, Verbal Abuse, but just chapter 2, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending.

a/n: tysm to @tinystarfishgalaxy for helping me with this chapter <3

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[AO3 Link]

Astarion wept, as his body shook uncontrollably. His thoughts and emotions were swirling, Tav's agonized screams still echoed in his mind, haunting him. And those staring, lifeless eyes... they would forever haunt his darkest dreams. He shuddered at the thought of what he could have become: a soulless monster who would have used and abused Tav without remorse. The weight of guilt and regret bore down on him like a heavy cloak, suffocating and unrelenting. He wanted to kill that version of himself, he wanted to erase him from existence.

He briefly believed they were returning to the vast emptiness of space. But before he could process that thought, he was being violently pulled once more. Then, everything went black.

Astarion's heart clenched with fear as he quickly realized that he was inhabiting another body, once again a different version of himself. His mind was still spinning from the previous vision, but he forced himself to calm down and focus on his current reality. None of this is real, he told himself, you can still change everything.

The first thing he noticed was the emptiness in his head, the silence. The lack of parasite buzzing over his senses. That explained why his limbs felt heavier and slower, without the surge of power he had grown used to. He was back to being a vampire spawn.

We won, then. We beat the Nether Brain.

He would have laughed, had he not noticed the feelings coursing his body: regret and a deep-seated remorse. It was a stark difference from the empty void of emotions that had possesed him while inside his Ascended body. This version... this future Astarion, was filled with nothing but guilt. And hunger, so deep it shook his frame to its core.

He looked around, taking in his surroundings. He was crouched against a damp stone wall, his body weakened and exhausted. The putrid stench of the city sewers filled his nostrils, adding to his misery.

His clothes, ragged and wet, were clinging uncomfortably to his body. Hells, he looked like a wild animal.

Disgusting.

Astarion's senses heightened as his body caught a whiff of fresh blood, human blood. His stomach growled and he could feel the thirst coursing through his veins, demanding to be sated. How long had it been since he last fed? Judging his estate, he estimated it had probably been weeks, if not a whole month.

He hadn't felt this feral in years. Since...

Since Cazador buried him alive for a year. Have I been starving myself?

His body forced itself to stand up, legs shaky and weak from lack of nourishment. He stumbled through the dark corridors of the sewers, following the scent of fresh blood like a predator on the hunt. The sound of voices echoed off the walls, growing louder as he neared his destination. He froze at the end of the tunnel, straining to make out their words.

"There's another body. How many innocent civilians have to disappear before someone takes action?" A woman's voice said.

"I know. We're doing our best to find those damned bloodsuckers. But the Dukes seem to have other priorities at the moment." Another male voice responded wearily.

Astarion's heart sank as he realized what they were talking about. Shit, the spawn. They are in the sewers too.

From behind the corner, he could see two Fists standing outside. Their weapons of choice were stakes and swords, a comical sight if he wasn't in so much pain.

He crouched down, trying to gather his strength and formulate a plan. But before he could process everything that was happening, his body was wracked with searing agony. His vision blurred as he fell to the ground, clutching at his stomach.

Then, everything was a blur.

His body launched itself at the unsuspecting guards. The sudden attack threw them off guard, their shocked cries echoing through the darkness.

What are you doing? Stop, you bastard!

Astarion willed his new body to halt, but it paid him no mind. With ruthless precision, he sank his fangs into one of the guards' necks, and tore the soft skin in seconds, hot blood pouring all over him. The other guard scrambled for his weapon but Astarion was too fast, too desperate. He struck again. However, the guard managed to slide the sword out in the process and lunged forward. Astarion barely managed to dodge it, the blade grazing his arm instead of piercing through his heart. The pain shot through him like lightning but did little to deter him.

He buried his fangs in the man's neck, relishing in the warm rush of blood as it filled his mouth and quenched his hunger. The guard struggled against him, but Astarion was far too strong in his primal state.

It wasn't until both guards lay lifeless at his feet that Astarion snapped out of his bloodlust-induced haze.

The silence was deafening. He released the limp body from his grasp, letting it slump onto the cold stone floor. The hunger had subsided for now, and he was left with a chilling emptiness; a void that echoed with his victims’ last moments.

He felt…dirty. Disgusted with himself and the monstrous actions he was forced to commit while under the control of this abhorrent future self once again.

The future version of Astarion sat in a corner of the room, his back against the unforgiving stone wall. He crouched over the blood-soaked floor, holding his knees tightly to his chest.

A bitter laugh escaped his body. "Look at what you've become," he muttered, "A monster...a butcher." His voice was barely a whisper, drowned out by the steady drip, drip, drip of the sewer pipes.

Oh, hush, Astarion supplied inside his brain, you are just trying to survive.

Survival was indeed his main priority now. With no friends or allies, Astarion had to do whatever it took to stay alive. And if that meant giving into his vampiric instincts and becoming a ruthless killer, then so be it.

But even as he tried to justify his actions to himself, guilt gnawed at him from within. One thought kept resurfacing in his mind - Tav. The one who had shown him kindness when all others saw him as nothing more than a tool to be used.

How could he face her after what he had done? Would she still see him as someone worthy of forgiveness or would she turn away in disgust?

How did you even get to this point? he asked himself.

Astarion's future self felt a strong urge to chase after her and make amends, begging for her forgiveness and asking her to take him back. But his pride wouldn't allow such a display of vulnerability. Instead, this version of himself reveled in the anger he felt towards her for not helping him complete the ritual. After all, it was her fault this had happened. If only he had ascended, he wouldn't have resorted to killing innocent people now.

No, he told himself, you would be killing her, you idiot.

But as always, he didn't listen. Didn't know.

As his eyesight blurred and shifted, Astarion found himself in another scene. It was late at night, and he was slowly making his way to the Elfsong tavern. Astarion felt a sense of unease, concerned that future him might harm his companions. But then it became clear: he was there to beg for forgiveness at last.

He watched for a moment as his body hesitated at the entrance of the inn. From within, he could hear the sound of laughter and music spilling out into the night. Through the dimly lit window, he saw his companions seated around their usual table, their faces glowing with warmth and camaraderie. There was Wyll, spinning tales of his latest exploits while Shadowheart listened with feigned indifference. His heart ached as he saw Tav, alive and well, her eyes sparkling as she shared a story with Lae'zel and Gale, her laughter more enchanting than any song sung in this tavern.

His heart swelled at the sight of her, revealing on seeing her unharmed, happy. If he had been in his own body, he would have cried of relief. For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to hold her in his arms again, to feel the warmth of her embrace. What he would give to feel it right now.

But instead, he felt future Astarion's heart sink. A sense of longing for the life he could have had if he had chosen a different path. He could have been sitting with them, laughing and sharing stories instead of being haunted by guilt and regret, like a wild animal, resorting to living in the sewers to escape the sunlight.

The weight of his shame was too much to bear, and he couldn't bring himself to ask for their forgiveness. He convinced himself that they were better off without him anyway. As tears threatened to spill from his eyes, he glanced one last time at the scene before turning away from the window. He didn't want them to witness his broken state - humiliated, reduced to a mere shadow of his former self.

And a part of him, real him, thought it was true. They seemed so happy without him, like he had never been there to begin with.

Do they even miss me?

His consciousness was pulled away once again. When he came to his senses, he found his body standing pressed against the cold stone wall of an abandoned alley. He took in his surroundings, trying to make sense of this new place. Through his future self's eyes, he sensed he was scanning the darkened streets for potential victims. His gaze lingered on a handsome young merchant, who despite his drunken state, still exuded a certain innocence. His body stepped out from the shadow, a charming smile already playing on his lips. The image was too familiar, and for a brief moment, he wondered if he had somehow traveled back in time instead of forward into the future.

The merchant's eyes, predictably, lit up at the sight of him.

"Well well, what do we have here? A handsome stranger wandering about all on his own?" he purred, trailing his finger down the man's arm. "My dear sir, it's far past bedtime for such daring adventure on your own."

The merchant blushed and stuttered something about getting lost. Astarion chuckled softly and offered to escort him back to his lodgings - an offer the man happily accepted.

His real self could only watch everything in disgust and shame; he had reverted back to his old ways. And this time, he wasn't even under the influence of his master.

Guiding him down an even narrower alleyway, Astarion couldn’t help but curse himself inwardly for what he knew he was about to do. Astarion wished he could look away as he saw his body lean in close, his voice a smooth whisper in the man's ear. He could see his blush and giggle, taken in by Astarion's false charm.

Oh, how he wished he could warn him of what was to come. But all he could do was watch on helplessly as his body continued this dreadful performance he had practiced so many times before.

I am back to being a puppet.

"Astarion?"

His body stiffened at the sound of his name, and he turned to face the voice.

"Tav," his body breathed her name. Their eyes locked, and for the first time in a year, he felt something other than the hunger that had become his constant companion. A sly smirk danced across his lips as he effortlessly masked his true emotions. "Well, well, what brings you to this enchanting alleyway?"

"I could ask you the same," Tav replied, her voice filled with a mixture of concern and shock. She glanced at the merchant standing next to him, stumbling in his drunken stupor. Her eyes filled with sadness as she took in the scene.

There was a tense silence as they stared one another down. Astarion swallowed hard, racking his brain for an excuse that would believably explain his current situation. Before he could come up with a response, Tav spoke again.

"Astarion," Tav uttered again, her voice trembling slightly. "Are you... are you okay?"

No, I am not.

"Of course, darling," he replied smoothly, flashing her a charming smile. "Just enjoying a late-night stroll with this... gentleman." He gestured towards the drunk merchant, who was now leaning heavily on Astarion for support.

Astarion's heart, however, constricted at the concern in her voice. He desperately wanted to tell her the truth, to hold her close, to kiss her breathless.

Do it, tell her. Kiss her. Save yourself.

"Are you sure you're okay, Astarion? You... you can tell me," Tav asked once again, her voice tinged with worry as her eyes flickered between them, clearly not buying his explanation. Astarion could feel her searching gaze boring into him, trying to read him like an open book.

Just as he was about to confess everything, Shadowheart appeared behind her, sliding a hand around her waist.

What?

"Love, what are you doing in an alleyway? You are asking to get murd-" her eyes suddenly locked on Future Astarion. Recognition and shock flashed across her face before it hardened into a scowl.

"Shadowheart," Astarion acknowledged her presence coldly. His gaze was caught on the way Shadowheart's fingers rested possessively on her waist; a sight he found increasingly difficult to stomach.

What is the meaning of this?

For once, Astarion felt the same way as his future self; confusion and hurt mingled with betrayal and anger. Shadowheart and Tav... together? When did that happen?

Tav turned around to look at Shadowheart, a soft blush spreading across her cheeks. "I was just..." she began nervously, gesturing towards Astarion and the merchant. "I saw..."

"Astarion." Shadowheart's voice interrupted, cold as ever. Her grey eyes looked past him to the merchant who was almost passed out at this point. "You have poor taste in company these days."

Despite the icy edge to her voice, Astarion could make out a hint of worry in her eyes as she looked at Tav. It was a concern that echoed his own, one that served only to intensify the bitter taste of jealousy creeping up his throat.

"Perhaps," Astarion finally replied, his voice filled with false cheerfulness."But at least he knows how to appreciate a good drink." He then mumbled, "Anyway, I should probably take him home," gesturing towards the unconscious man.

As he started to walk away, Tav weakly protested and broke free from Shadowheart's grasp to approach Astarion. "Hold on!" Tav interjected, still unsteady on his feet. "You still haven't answered my question."

A tense quiet settled over them as they locked gazes once more. Astarion could see the mix of emotions in her eyes - confusion, pain, and yet a glimmer of hope. His other self didn't understand, but he did. He saw right through her.

She wanted him to ask for help, because that would mean he was ready to rejoin their group. She needed to help him. To redeem herself and close the wound he had opened a year ago.

He desperately yearned to do it, to return to his friends, to her. Instead, his body betrayed him and spoke on his behalf, "I assure you, Tav," he declared with stiffness in his voice, fighting to keep his emotions in check. "I am doing perfectly well without you."

Like hell you are!

Tav's face fell at his words, her eyes widening in shock and hurt. But before she could respond, Shadowheart spoke up again, her tone sharp and accusatory. "Oh yes, Astarion. You are the very definition of perfectly well." She directed a pointed look to the boy, who was sobering up and looking utterly confused, "You should go home," she said firmly.

The boy stumbled away, casting a final bewildered look at Astarion before disappearing into the darkness. Astarion watched the boy leave and turned his gaze back to Tav. He could see the disappointment in her eyes, but he couldn't explain or apologize, trapped as he was inside his own mistakes.

Tav hesitated for a moment before talking again

"Why didn't you return? We could have searched for a solution together."

Astarion's heart was heavy with the pain in Tav's voice. However, watching them together, watching how they had moved on without him, was stirring up a sick and ugly sensation within his chest. He could feel the longing consuming him, but his future self chose to focus only on the anger instead. Focus on the pride.

"Yeah, looks like you all missed me so much." Astarion quipped bitterly, glancing between Tav and Shadowheart.

Tav flinched like she had been hit. Astarion wanted to hit himself for it.

"Astarion, we didn't mean to hurt you, I-"

"That's not what it looks like. In fact, it seems like you both have moved on quite easily without me."

"Enough, Astarion," Shadowheart snapped, her patience clearly at its end. "Stop playing the victim. You disappeared without a word. What did you expect us to do? Wait for you forever?"

Yes. Maybe.

Tav's words were softer, her face etched with worry and regret. "You could have come to us... we would have helped you..."

Astarion scoffed. "Like hell you would." His tone was bitter, but he couldn't bring himself to meet their eyes. "You were the reason I left in the first place. Your betrayal."

His body had expected to feel relief upon seeing them again... but all he felt now was an overwhelming sense of loss. The sight of Tav and Shadowheart together brought a reality crashing down on him – they had moved on and he was stuck in the past. In the same toxic cycle from his time with Cazador.

There was another tense silence between them as they stood there in the dark alleyway. Astarion could feel their gazes burning into him, but he couldn't bring himself to meet their eyes again.

Shadowheart spoke up again. "What are you going to do now?"

Astarion shrugged casually. "Who knows? Maybe I'll just find someone else who actually keeps their promises," he said with a tone of bitterness.

But that was far from the truth. He felt completely isolated and alone, with no one to turn to for comfort or support.

Tav glanced at him once more, her head shaking as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"I'm so sorry," she said brokenly.

No, I'm the one who is sorry.

The need to reach out was overwhelming. But he could just watch in despair as his body decided to keep quiet, and observe as she silently turned around and left.

Shadowheart, however, stayed put, looking at him dead in the eye.

"I thought you'd come back for her, you know?"

I almost did, he told himself, I almost did, but I am a coward.

"You know, I thought you of all people would understand why I left. How could I stay after she ripped me off my only opportunity at freedom?" Astarion responded, finally meeting Shadowheart's gaze.

He expected anger, but was instead met with deep sorrow.

"When you left, something in Tav... it broke. She cried for you, night after night. For months, Astarion."

Of course, he knew. He had seen the scene at the Elfsong Tavern. However, this version of him hadn't.

He scoffed in an attempt to hide his pain, but Shadowheart continued relentlessly.

"She suffered so much because of your selfishness," Shadowheart said, her voice barely a whisper. "I... I had to pick up the pieces, Astarion. I had to convince her not to... not to lose herself."

Astarion felt a wave of guilt wash over him as Shadowheart's words hit him like a physical blow.

"I'm sorry," was all he could manage to say, his voice breaking with emotion.

Shadowheart's expression softened for a moment before hardening again. "Sorry doesn't fix what you've done. What you said," she replied, her tone biting.

"I know," he mumbled quietly, feeling the weight of his mistakes crashing down on him.

They stood there in silence for a few moments longer before Astarion spoke again. "She's hard not to fall in love with, isn't she?"

Shadowheart's eyes opened in surprise, and the softened slightly.

"Yes. Yes, she is," she replied under her breath.

Astarion shook his head.

"Is she happy?" he asked, unable to help himself.

Shadowheart sighed. "She’s getting there," she admitted quietly. "But she won’t be if you drag her back into your mess now."

And he knew what that meant. Let her go. She is happier without you.

Astarion hung his head, feeling a familiar pain bloom in his chest. He was quiet for a long moment before finally looking back up at Shadowheart.

"I won't," he promised, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat.

Shadowheart’s gaze bore into him for another moment before she nodded, and finally turned to leave.

"And Astarion?" she called over her shoulder, causing him to look up at her again.

"Hmm?"

"I hope you find your happiness too. You deserve it."

And with that, she walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Astarion watched as she sauntered towards Tav, who was standing a little ways off. He could barely make out the details of her face from where he was standing but even from the distance, he could tell she was beautiful – more beautiful than he remembered.

Shadowheart gently approached Tav, her hand resting on her arm before leaning in for a tender kiss. Astarion couldn't help but feel like an outsider, witnessing this intimate moment between the two. As he watched them, he noticed the way Tav gazed at Shadowheart with such adoration and love - the same way she used to look at him.

He watched their retreating figures until they disappeared into the night. And his heart threatened to break into smaller pieces at the thought that this had probably been their last conversation.

In a flash, Astarion was once again standing in the void, surrounded by darkness. He felt a sense of unease wash over him as he waited for G'axir's voice to come through again.

See now... Astarion? G'axir's voice echoed around him.

See what? All I see are stars. Astarion asked, feeling frustrated at the cryptic messages.

Amidst the shroud of remorse and longing... lies the opportunity to redefine. Hope's whisper still lingers... in a realm unseen.

Tag list: @tinystarfishgalaxy, @imaginarypetlizard, @nanamisfriedstick, @stuckinaoaktree, @madislayyy, @cosywinterevenings, @fandom-garbage, @generalstephkenobi

a/n: I kind of hate G'axir. If I was Astarion I would be throwing hands, ngl. Anyway, hope you enjoyed the last angsty chapter! Thanks for the support! And lmk if you want to be added to the taglist☺️✨

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[ironunderstands]

Not a question, just very happy it's not just me loving IP3 (or trans Ratio for that matter). Yap away on both

Ugh I love them both so much

Most of my headcanons are when I find something to be better and/or more interesting than it is in canon, or something that’s a great extension of canon, and that’s exactly what trans Ratio is to me.

It takes his already present insecurities and squares them, as now the doctor has to contend with not just being a SMART enough man, but being a smart enough MAN, and adding that extra layer of misery and complexity is just so delightful.

By taking a character racked by self doubt and adding another layer to it, like Ratio being trans, you complicate his current insecurities and give new perspectives to look at them from.

Like in canon Ratio exercises so much because he wants to be the most perfect, best version of himself and has been doing it since a very young age (middle school).

But then you add him being trans to that, and suddenly he’s not just combating being perceived as not good enough, he’s combating being perceived entirely, attempting to try and get others to view him the way he really is, and attempting to live up to whatever masculine ideal that would push away his dysphoria, something prominent within his life from a young age.

I’ve kinda dived into this within my fics about it, but I like the idea that Ratio keeps this a secret from everyone- and I mean everyone. He already doesn’t live up to his own expectations of himself, so to have the rest of the galaxy find out that he doesn’t live up to their expectations of him either (ie being a cis man I mean you cannot tell me there aren’t like hundreds of people in universe begging for his uh- yeah), it would crush him.

I mean considering how guarded he is already, adding another thing to hide behind that alabaster mask would be fun, even if I think Ratio is likely at least a decade post-op + post-transition, so it’s not like he has to bind or anything, but the threat is still there. Especially considering his well known love of baths- imagine if he avoided the public baths at his home planet (considering how heavily Greek/Roman inspired Ratio is), and how that might affected him growing up, or just the tendency of shirtlessness in general.

There’s just a lot of possibilities and intricacies to it that makes me really like this particular headcanon, and it will always be canon in my heart haha. I have some more silly things behind it, like me wanting to give Aventio and Ratiopaz biological kids because it would be cute, or just the inherent joy of the big buff guy actually being the trans one rather than who you would expect it to be/who it’s stereotypically made as- Aventurine, as I like when characters have traits you don’t expect them to possess.

I also tend to dislike Aventurine being made ftm because he’s implied to be an SA survivor and rep for amab victims is already kinda abysmal so I don’t like taking it away, also I just think it’s boring tbh, at least for me it just doesn’t interest me.

Trans Topaz is a whole other discussion, personally I think she’s mtnb, and more femme presenting (I’d make her use she/they in my fics it’s just pronoun swapping when writing polyamory is miserable and anybody who’s ever written it can attest to that 😭, it’s there in spirit I promise!)

I honestly don’t have deep reasons behind this one, it’s just pure vibes. Someone was like, “Topaz gives nonbinary” once on here and I’m like yeah, yeah she does 😭. She reminds me of Childe a lot and I also view him as nonbinary so she’s kinda in a similar boat.

I think she’s very motherly but like in the way Mother Nature is if that makes sense? Mother is mothering but she’s also a creature tm* and certified tax collecting humanity loving entity. Also I have a close friend who’s a trans woman and Topaz reminds me of her so like, bam ur trans now lol (hi Alice if ur seeing this).

As for Aventiopaz, I fear I’d need a whole other post dedicated to why I like them. You guys know why I like Aventio, Avenpaz also require a whole other yap session, and Ratiopaz is the best rarepair ever fight me. Generally I like it because it’s really sweet, the dynamic is hilarious, they are the power trio of all time, they have great gameplay synergy, and their designs complement each other a lot- being primary colors and all.

I also enjoy their individual unique relationships to the IPC and how that might affect their interactions with one another, both in canon and in my brain. Moreover the trio of coworkers who are well known around the office for a) getting the job done and b) being absolutely obnoxious around one another (in a good way) is incredibly fun and I enjoy the idea of all the shenanigans they would get up to.

Perhaps my next Aventiopaz fic would be them going on a mission together or something, as I definitely want to write another one, and also update my slideshow of the parents au, I’ve just been so busy and a bit unmotivated 😭 so hopefully I can get to that soon

[iho6hi2]

Shattered Ones.

Type: Oneshot

Pairing: Fubuki Shirou/GN! Reader

Summary: You fear that you can never be Fubuki's anchor and day by day, you see him sink further into misery. You follow his example.

Warnings: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Childhood Trauma, Survivor Guilt, Grief/Mourning, Established Relationship, Unresolved Tension, Codependency, Unrequited Love, One-Sided Relationship

Word Count: 3,342

A/N: FUBUKI SHIROU THE MAN THAT YOU ARE YYYOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS. Will forever think about how much trauma Fubuki has gone through and how most of it has gone unaddressed...

Fubuki's eyes are fixed on the picture, unblinking and half-lidded. They have been so for a little over an hour.

His hand grips the photograph. It's not hard enough to cause any creases or damages, but his hold still borders on possessive.

Much like him, you're transfixed. You keep on staring, as if hypnotized by the sight laid out in front of you. However, your attention is not on the photo at all — you don't even give it a single glance. What catches your attention are the dark, heavy bags under Fubuki's eyes; a clear symptom of his restlessness. They're not recent and they have gradually been getting worse.

You're able to relate. Your eyes are also bloodshot and dazed, though they're able to remain focused by pure power of will, distantly observing the direct cause of your own lack of sleep.

He doesn't bother saying anything out loud, nor does he even register your presence lingering behind in the slightest. Fubuki merely gazes at the image, lips continuing to maintain the shape of a frown, which looks natural on his features. He'd spent a good portion of his life looking sullen, after all. Although you can't really tell if his eyes are sad or if he's simply drowning in nostalgia by his lonesome.

You consider approaching him and embracing him, but Fubuki is someone who always looks out of touch with reality whenever physical contact is initiated. He's not sure what to do whenever you hug him out of the blue, though he always manages to play it off as only being caught unprepared.

He would freeze up and blink down at you in shock, lips parted in mute astonishment, before his beautiful, gentle smile takes its typical place on his face. Then he would wrap his arms around you and, even though his muscles tend to tense up whenever you're in close proximity with one another, he would force them to relax midway throughout the hug.

You can see beyond his façade. You always have. Fubuki is not so much an open book as much as he is a torn page from one.

A fleeting scrap of paper with words scribbled on both the front and back. So transparent and yet so opaque at the same time. You struggle to assimilate him despite reading him with such ease.

Either that or you've simply disillusioned yourself into believing you're capable of deciphering him despite it probably not being the case. You don't want to find out the truth in favor of preserving your feelings, which have grown increasingly fragile over the course of your relationship with Fubuki.

You stop leaning against the doorway to your shared bedroom and slowly begin to make your way towards his seat on the bed, doing your best not to step on a loose floorboard and alert him. You loom over his shoulder, studying his furrowed brows and the subtle clench of his jaw first, then redirecting your attention to the picture itself.

Your eyes narrow in suspense before softening in belated realization.

The photograph managed to capture a moment in time where Fubuki appeared to be truly happy for once. His features are young, juvenile. His eyes, which are nothing like today, are round and innocent. They display none of the anguish he holds nowadays and if you didn't know any better, you'd think that he's still capable of smiling so freely and happily.

He never will be. Fate has made it so that he can never find it in his heart to be as carefree as the kid he once used to be.

Your eyes scan the other side of the picture. Fubuki's arms are draped over his little brother's shoulders.

It's Atsuya. You know Atsuya, but you don't really know Fubuki Atsuya. Fubuki Shirou will never know who Fubuki Atsuya could have grown up to be, either.

He only remembers Atsuya as the cocky, overexcited and easily irritable brat. He remembers him as his little brother, who loved to brag and would constantly puff his chest out whenever he scored a goal. His little brother, who tended to surpass him in most aspects. The little brother he lost to an avalanche.

The little brother he grows to miss more and more with every sunrise and every sunset.

Startling you, Fubuki snorts bitterly. "You know what's the worst part about all of this, [Name]?" He doesn't bother looking over his shoulder in order to hold eye contact and you're also in no way surprised he sensed you breathing down his neck, though you were hoping he would be distracted enough not to even notice.

You make no effort to reply; it's not like you could formulate a sensible response regardless. Besides, something tells you Fubuki wasn't expecting an answer and he probably wouldn't appreciate receiving one, either.

At this point, you realize Fubuki isn't necessarily talking to you and more so to himself. You're just an outlet for his frustrations, here to bear witness to his torment and be the shoulder he leans on when everything comes crashing down in flames.

No matter how many times Fubuki opens up his heart to you, it doesn't take away from his pain. Somehow, if that was even possible, it becomes stronger and more prominent with each and every passing day. You know it just as well as he does, but disregarding the fact and choosing to pretend that you're none the wiser doesn't hurt any less.

He continues speaking, clutching the photo in his hand tighter. "I'll be turning twenty-six this year, but he'll always stay only five."

Fubuki Shirou has had acne, he's had to shave. He had went on dates and he had also won countless of matches, not to mention the FFI Cup as well. He's had to constantly conquer his spine-chilling, gruesome fears and treat his own injuries no matter how badly they hurt.

Fubuki Shirou has needed to mature way earlier than any of his peers and he had already developed into an adult, but Atsuya will never know what having a beard was like. He'll never understand how to solve for x. He'll never have his first kiss and he'll never have the pleasure of seeing the ocean or of travelling abroad.

You had never met Fubuki Atsuya. The only one you know is the Atsuya, which can never come close to capturing the real one's essence; he's just a capsule of blurry, distorted, distant memories, which stray from reality.

He doesn't appear in front of you often, but the few times he does, it's always a strange and a memorable experience.

Atsuya only materializes when Fubuki goes through immense amounts of stress, which is a rarity in and of itself with all things considered. Such instances were the time he got replaced as a coach by a member of the Fifth Sector and another was the night before he had to travel to a remote island to rescue kids being tortured by the said organization.

In all of these occurrences, Atsuya shows up abruptly. You never receive a warning and the only telltale signs are his eyes and the intense scowl on his face. Unlike your boyfriend, Shirou, Atsuya's eyes regard you with upfront indifference. You're used to Shirou's sugarcoated acts of reassurance, which do wonders to help distract you from the ugly truth. The truth you consciously attempt to suppress.

Atsuya is nothing like Shirou. He's sardonic, honest, always speaks his mind and never tolerates anything whenever he feels like he's being sligted by someone. Shirou is completely different in that regard; he just keeps on enduring and enduring until he physically can't handle it anymore. Old habits die hard and in some cases, they never die at all.

"Shirou, it's okay if you're—," you begin hesitantly, with your eyes darting anywhere around the room but his face in fear of seeing a flicker of upset directed at you, however he cuts you off before you can finish what you've started.

"It's not okay and you know it, [Name]. It's never going to be okay. Not now and not ever. Please, drop it." Fubuki states and his words carry a tragic tone of finality. He puts an end to whatever uncomfortable conversation you were about to have and leaves in his wake a silence that's just as unbearable and suffocating.

Fubuki didn't raise his voice, but he might as well have just yelled at you right now. Like always, you pipe down with guilt eating away at your insides like a pack of vicious hyenas and simply slump on the bed, keeping noticeable distance between the two of you. The very notion is virgin and celibate, but you don't pay it any mind.

The awkward, tense silence persists for several more mintues before you decide to break it. "Sorry. I always do more bad than good," you sigh and shift to lay on your side, because that way your view of Fubuki is entirely obscured. Whatever emotion contorts his features next, you won't be able to know and this fact brings you immense amounts of relief.

In order for your sanity to remain fully intact, you need to keep yourself blind and ignorant. That's the only way for you to keep holding on.

"No, you have nothing to be sorry for. It's not your fault and I shouldn't take it out on you. Atsuya's dead, he has been for a long time and I've accepted that, but every year I'm reminded that he'll never get to grow up like I did. It's like he's stuck in time." Fubuki sniffles without shedding any tears. He's long since lost the ability to cry and all he can do now is scrunch up his nose, staring absently at the ceiling.

You perk up at his words and slowly sit up, cautiously crawling towards him like he's a ticking time bomb you might accidentally set off. You reach him, inch by inch, before hugging his waist and placing your chin on his lap. You're yet to stare into his eyes and, instead, settle for gazing at the messed up pillows to your left.

He makes no move to reciprocate the gesture and you take no offense to it. Even if he were to squeeze your hand or pull you closer, it would be insincere.

You love when Fubuki lays himself bare for you, so you don't need to speculate each and every minute detail in hopes of uncovering hidden meanings. He's fully clothed, but naked to the human eye at the same time.

All you can currently see is the real Fubuki Shirou. The good, the bad and the ugly; you're unable to discern a difference between them. He's always the same to you — ethereal and delicate like porcelain. He's the same man that ensnared you in his trap, whether he's aware of it or not.

You're a mouse captured, moments before your inevitable doom.

"I wish I could've died instead of him, sometimes." Fubuki muses with a half-smile and you tighten your hold on him, miffed.

"Well, I don't think that's what he would've wanted. Have you ever thought about the fact that he would want you to live on for the both of you?" You argue and, for the first time in a while, you force yourself to look at him. There's veins bulging out of your neck as you strain yourself to shout at him.

Fubuki blinks and his amusement is soon replaced with a pensive, thoughtful frown. He stares at the picture again, then redirects his attention to you. He dabs at his eyes, wiping away any tears threatening to spill. Afterwards, he opens the drawer next to his side of the bed and places the old photograph there, face down, before shutting it closed.

He lies back down, but this time he shows you his back rather than his face and then proceeds to pull the covers over his shoulders. "[Name], I don't say it a lot, but I really am sorry."

Your mind jumps to the worst-case scenario and your throat instantly closes up, an uncomfortable lump resting on your epiglottis. There's a pit in your stomach — an allegory for dread.

You struggle to find the words to properly express yourself, though you settle for a simple, "Sorry? What for?" You don't want to hear him say it out loud. A part of you hopes he backtracks like he always does, though something is different this time and not in a good way.

Don't say it. You plead to no avail. You know exactly what kind of storm is heading your way. You've known since the moment you first met him, but you chose to face it head-on. This is what resilience gets you: perpetual despair.

Fubuki, as if reading your mind and choosing to spite you once and for all, places the final nail in the coffin gently, with feather-like meticulousness. His last venture to destroy you, to utterly devastate and crush you, is delivered with a voice akin to that of a lullaby. "I'm sorry for everything."

The lights are off and then it's just static silence between the two of you, under the guise of sleeping or at least trying to.

There's a blizzard outside. The snow and rain pelts hard against the window in your shared bedroom and you can practically hear Fubuki's breath hitching in his throat. You sense him trembling slightly. He seeks no comfort and you don't attempt to give him any; two strangers stuck hostage on a cold bed, claiming they're in love.

Before you realize it, you're crying. The tears drip down and stain your cheeks, but you don't bother wiping them away. You let them flow freely because you fear that you'll be far too numb to bawl like this ever again in the near future. And if Fubuki hears you crying like a baby, he ignores it in favor of suppressing his guilt.

You seek no comfort, especially not his, and he doesn't attempt to give you any. Everything comes full circle when it regards the two of you.

Fubuki's sorry he can't love you the way you love him: devotedly, ardently, unconditionally. Try as he might, he can't bring himself to love anyone. Not anymore.

However, he's selfish and wants to have you remain by his side. He hates being alone — to the point it becomes unbearable. He doesn't think you'll forgive him and he simply can't forgive himself and his actions, either. Perhaps, if you were to despise him from the bottom of your heart, that'd be for the best.

It's better for things to remain this way. The Atsuya in his head agrees, too.

★

"Good morning, [Name]," Fubuki greets you cheerfully the moment you step foot into the kitchen. You're blinded by his smile, the one he uses to sweep truths and details under the rug when he divulges too much against his will.

You play along and return the gesture. It's your forte. You and Fubuki are constantly entangled in an intricate dance, treading on thin ice between lies and sincerity, between hiding and revealing.

How easy it is for the both of you to act like nothing ever happened yesterday is nothing short of disturbing, yet befitting.

You hug him and wrap your arms around his torso, his own reaching out to cradle your face in his cold fingers. His eyes are kind, but there's no sentimental depth when he gazes at you from up-close. You're his polar opposite.

You kiss him and though he's quick to react, you can still see the way his eyes visibly widen in shock before you forcibly close your own so as not to perceive any negative reactions he subtly expresses.

Fubuki's sad because he's consciously leading you on, purposefully, and this kiss is a manifesto of his greed and opportunism. The remorse brewing within him is repressed and kept at bay, determined to do everything in his power to keep you around for as long as possible.

You deepen the kiss and push him against the countertop. His back slams against the cups behind him and one of them falls down, breaking into pieces.

You separate from him, by reflex and definitely not by choice, and cringe. "Sorry. Didn't mean to act like a horndog." The embarrassment creeps in before you can stop it and you merely watch as Fubuki crouches down and begins to pick up each of the shards.

"You always worry too much about everything. I wonder if it's a chronical condition," Fubuki makes an astute observation and you're tempted to roll your eyes because you can hear the snark behind it, though you hold back.

You watch as he carefully holds the pieces and carries them over to the trashcan, blinking with a small smile.

You look down at the floor and notice he missed one. Whether it was done on purpose or not, you can't really tell. With Fubuki, it's always hard to distinguish. You pick it up, holding it between your fingers, and stare right back at your reflection. The likeness of you is distorted, off putting and jarring.

"It's kind of familiar." You begin with a clipped tone. Fubuki stares at you before squatting down in an attempt to figure out what you mean.

It's not like you to be vague, Fubuki thinks. He doesn't like it when you beat around the bush, nor does he appreciate having to guess where your trail of thought leads to. He likes you best when you speak your mind, brash and reckless as it may be. It's familiar, nostalgic, and it makes him homesick.

He follows your gaze and fixes his attention onto the stray piece. He can already see the small cut opening up on your skin after the glass accidentally grazed it. He just smiles; it's not his mess to clean. "What is?"

It reminds me of us, you want to say out loud, but your lips are sealed shut.

The blood from your wound smears against the piece. It doesn't even hurt.

When something is broken, you can always glue it back together. When it's people that are shattered, no amount of glue can be of use.

You didn't know it at the time, yet you tried to play hero with the naïve ambition of binding Fubuki back to reality and away from the tumultuous waters threatening to swallow him whole. Now, you're afflicted with the same cracks you first saw in Fubuki. You never knew self-destruction could be a contagious disease.

"Never mind. I was about to say something lame." You shake your head and proceed to wince from the sting, pretending it hurts. You turn to look at him, raising your hand up to him with pleading eyes. "Kiss my boo-boo to make it feel better?"

"I'll pass," Fubuki declines within a heartbeat, rocking to and fro on his heels. You huff at his flower boy persona.

★

That night, Fubuki wraps his arms around you and brings you close to him, his chin perching itself on top of your head. You, in turn to his sporadic display of affection, snuggle even further into his chest, desperately listening to the sound of his heart, which is surprisingly peaceful in comparison to other nights that fly by just like this.

He holds you tight and despite the soothing heat of his body and the slow, content breaths he lets out, you've never felt colder or more alone.

There's a storm brewing, but it's not outside. It's always been an invisible force between the two of you and only you can see how it will end. You pray that the end is not near, but each and every day you can sense it being your last.

★

The following morning, you see Fubuki holding that same picture of him and his brother.

It feels like heartbreak. You're left to helplessly watch him perish with the knowledge that there's nothing you can do for him.

You're just collateral damage.

[faulty-writes]

Hello, I'm asking as an anon cuz its my first time requesting and I'm kind of nervous but I was wondering how would bakugou,deku,todoroki(+iida if you want<3) react to they're significant other doing the bumpy ride trend? where they balance a thing on their head and dance? Example : https://www.youtube.com/shorts/eWBDUeWgMXI and then they get very flustered lol love u<33

[ Oh God, is that what the kids are up to these days? Welp, best of luck to them! I know my limit for headcanons is usually three, but we all know how much I love Iida so he had to be included in this. So I hope you enjoy this rare, four-character headcanon set. P.S. Love you too, anon. ]

"What the hell are you doing!?" Katsuki couldn't care less about the 'trends' extras were trying. The only type of social media he liked was about heroes. Still, he was curiously angry when he walked into your room to see you balancing something on your head while moving around. The fact that you were having trouble keeping that thing on your head made him roll his eyes.

He thought you had enough common sense to know when to quit following this stupid trend. However, you didn't and he wasn't shy about sharing his opinion. "Why are you wasting your time doing this, dumbass? Trends are only for extras with nothing else to do!" You tried not to let him bother you, after all, you were just having fun.

He usually didn't care about anyone's safety but his own. But damn it, you were different. When you tried to balance dangerous or heavy things on your head while dancing, he'd scold you. "Idiot! Be careful, damn it!" He'd snatch whatever item away from you and quickly replace it with another before flushing as he admitted, "I just...d-don't want you to get hurt, dumbass."

Most believed Katsuki could not laugh or find humor in anything that wasn't someone else's misery. But after some time of seeing you perform this trend continuously. He couldn't help but smile. Yeah, it was a rare sight to see him smile, hell even see him happy. But damn if he didn't admire your determination and that cute look on your face whenever the particular item you were balancing on your head fell off mid-dance.

Izuku would more than likely respond to seeing you perform the bumpy ride trend with curiosity, after his initial surprise. His curiosity would lead him to research everything about this particular trend. He would even watch videos of others performing it, trying to figure out what the most effective strategy is to master it.

Naturally, due to his desire to save and protect others, he'd make sure you always performed the trend in a safe environment. In addition, he'd make sure you used safe items to balance on your head. Usually, he'd help you gather empty bottles or provide one of his All Might plushies for you to use.

You'd usually assign him to record your attempts on your phone so you could upload them later. While he was uncertain about this, he did it because he wanted to help you and show his support. Of course, he was particular about how he would record you. He'd always make sure he was standing at the correct distance, that it was the correct angle, and that the lighting was good. No surprise, you ended up getting a bit impatient with him.

"H-hey it's okay…maybe w-we can look over my notes to s-see what you're doing wrong, y-you'll get it eventually!" He'd always have some encouraging words for you whenever you failed at your bumpy ride trend attempts which was appreciated considering you usually took your frustrations out on him.

"Um…are you alright?" Shoto's initial response to seeing you perform the bumpy ride trend is confusion. He doesn't bother with social media or understand its trends. This leads you to have to explain it to him which only confuses him more.

Before jumping to any conclusion about whether this trend was safe or unsafe, Shoto would observe you performing it. This would help him determine if he should intervene or not. He knew he didn't have a right to tell you what you could and couldn't do. But as your significant other, it was his job to protect you no matter what. He'd do that even if you hated him for it.

His concern eventually led him to suggest alternative trends you could do together. He knows that you'll probably argue with him, but he also knows that it's important to do things that strengthen your bond in romantic relationships and frankly, if he could convince you to do alternative trends with him, he could keep you safe.

He would congratulate you when you finally managed to dance and balance something on top of your head without it falling. But he's unsure exactly what to say which leads him to flush as he struggles to find the words. "That's nice…I am…happy that you accomplished what you wanted to." He still wouldn't understand it, but he'd try to be proud of you in his own way.

"I strictly advise against this form of social entertainment!" It was no surprise that Tenya found social media trends to be a waste of time. The fact that said trends didn't have any academic or structural value added to his distaste for them.

Even after conducting thorough research regarding the "bumpy ride" trend, he still doesn't approve of it, but he knows his disapproval won't sway you from attempting it. So, he overanalyzes it and creates a structured plan to help you perfect and achieve your desired outcome.

Despite not wanting to share his or your "personal" life on the internet, he agrees to document your attempts at this trend. "Are you most certain you wish to perform this again?" The videos he records are typically unedited, which gains your account numerous followers who like to point out his strange way of talking and the fact he's constantly chopping his hands in front of the camera in your videos.

After some time, he finds out that your classmates know about the bumpy ride trend and your videos which he helped upload to your social media account. Even though he feels embarrassed, he explains the pros and cons of the trend. He also explains why he supports you and how he will continue to do so until you master your techniques to accomplish your desired outcome.

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Unexpected hyperfixation??

okay so what the fuck guys I just finished watching the Disney film Inside Out (2015) and my god JOY

JOY is so MOTHER like, MOMMY? Literally on the very first minute of the movie, when she was the first emotion to appear, she said "It was me and Riley forever", that caught my interest. And it only snowballed from there. I found how she would hug the memory balls so lovingly, super interesting

So definitely her defining character trait is a control freak, nice but actually covertly nasty. I love me a possessive smother, she was not too thrilled to know that she had to share the room with other emotions. But she eventually tolerated and became nice to them because they had a use to keep Riley alive and safe. But is highkey a hater towards Sadness because she thinks that blue fuck is only there to cause misery towards her beloved Riley.

Like WOW the core memories are all controlled by Joy and she genuinely finds JOY in doing menial shit like "dream duty" unlike the other emotions who finds it a chore. She does not sleep fr fr, rather obsessing over Riley and her thoughts and CONTROLLING everything so that Riley is forever happy and in bliss.

She physically cannot let Riley go to sleep sad, so she played a memory about her ice skating back in Minnesota, and she was also skating around in the headquarters. I interpreted it as Joy wanting to be physically outside Riley's head so she could mother her better and steal Riley from her parents to make her into Joy's daughter. I Pretend I Do Not See TVtropes explanation of that saying she secretly wants to be Riley because that does not fit into my ideal 💯💯

In that scene where a sad core memory was created, homegirl flipped the fuck out and tries to immediately get rid of it, throwing hands with Sadness and pulling her hair and shit just to avoid it creating whatever crappy mcshitster island it might have made.

Then the scene where she sees the mind workers siphoning faded memories to be thrown to the memory dump to be disintegrated, she was also freaking out because those are "perfectly good memories" and proceeds to list some obscure ass esoteric information about Riley's childhood, the names of every Cutie Pie princess doll to be exact LIKE DAMN JOY YOU REMEMBER THAT SHIT? DAMN

she got mad when the workers threw those memories away and briefly told them to bring them back YESS I SEE YOU HOARDER MAMI

and she is WELL ACQUAINTED with Riley's imaginary best friend because she gives a crap about everything related to Riley- like she remembers everything about his antics and work- FUCK BRO like Sadness doesn't seem to know who the hell that guy is but JOY DOES even down to that song they sang, and you can tell that she stays UP watching her dreams because she knew the Unicorn actress and her work too.

Joy's only priority is Riley like what the hell, it's just making Riley happy at all costs and she litcherally abandoned sadness at long term memory just so that she could get back up there and make her happy.

When bing bong's rocket got thrown into the pit and he was understandably devastated, Joy wasted no time in trying to cheer him up JUST SO the party could keep moving, she does not give TWO SHITS about him being sad, she just cared about Riley and Riley is #1 in her abstract ass brain. Like she even got annoyed when Sadness showed actual empathy and talked to bing bong, thinking it will just hinder advancements

And she just does NOT want Riley to feel other emotions if its not necessary, like logically yes scaring an 11 year old in her dream is going to wake her up immediately. But she would rather go the dumbass route of making a dream so happy and joyful that she would wake up like???? sanity and IQ slippage right there because she is distressed over not being able to save Riley just yet, or because of her possessiveness.

Bro?? Like when she's going through the recall tube (that inevitably failed), she was supposed to let sadness get sucked up with her, but because of her blueness is contaminating the core memories she was like "SORRY RILEY NEEDS TO BE HAPPY" and just kicked her to the curb, like with almost no hesitation she just shoved her away

My god, my favourite scene was when she was at the bottom of the memory dump where she sees the grey orbs being turned to dust and blown away, she was crying and mourning over the small details and memories like how Riley would stick her tongue out while colouring, and that one line "I can listen to her stories, all day." Like DAMN MISS OBSESSIVE ATTENTIVE I SEE YOUU

and she watched some random memory about Riley twirling around and falling like an idiot as a toddler, and she sobbed hard, like it isn't that deep but it is to Joy. Like the small stuff that she would obsess to the moon over like BRO FUCK THATS WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT

And the fact that there is this huge theme of "I do not want my Daughter-cum-flesh mecha to grow up" in Joy's character makes me want Joy so bad

Literally, throughout the entire 1h 30ish minute movie Joy's like: "I must save Riley. I live for Riley. In this reality it is only Riley", whereas the other personalities do give a damn about themselves a fair amount, a normal amount. Whereas Joy just devotes her entire concept to Riley, as in she has no personality other than obsessive, possessive, and controlling just for the best of Riley and her happiness, ALL SHE THINKS OF IS RILEY OR RELATING TO HER

like she could have been sadness where she became a sad sack about how she fucked up and stuff, and yes Joy DID fuck up by being an asshat to sadness, because she turns out to be important in regulating Riley's emotions. But Joy does not sulk and mope and become immobilized for long, she has work to do and that is to take care of Riley, LIKE?? DAMN JOY U CAN PUSH THRU SELF HATRED LIKE THAT JUST FOR YOUR RILEY

no she doesn't feel too awkward, too guilty or too shitty that she starts to alienate herself from the 4, but she just continues business as usual for the sake of Riley. Nothing matters except Riley's happiness AND wellbeing.

I swear to god Joy is the Yves emotion man, If my brain works like how the Inside Out universe works, Yves is literally Joy piloting my brain on a daily basis like omg that's YVES

Yves would be kinning so hard with Joy fr fr, he would be breathing so hard and gripping till the handles of his seat breaks, frothing at the mouth and pupils blown out at the thought of getting into your brain and accessing ALL those memory orbs, maybe even finding a way to make copies and export them into real life and to fill up his data vault

[mari-lair]

Sure! Hanako have too much to work with, since he is the main character, so I’ll focus on the thing I love the most about him: His inexperience when it comes to caring about others.

Hanako put up thick walls between himself and his peers, rarely connecting to others, be they humans or supernaturals.

Helping students and keeping them safe is his duty, his punishment to atone, not something he personally wants, his own personal view is far more ‘cold’, Amane’s empathy was destroyed after he became a supernatural, beaten down after sixty years of being dead.

What he tells Kou here is true.

He has shown time and time again, people’s life isn’t particularly important to him,  he’ll exchange one life for another without guilt for the person he doomed because of personal preference, and had destroyed yorishiros since the start of the manga, knowing of the danger of doing so, for his own gains.

Before the manga story starts, Hanako is alone.

He plays with the other mysteries but he doesn’t consider anyone his friend. He keeps a distance even from Tsuchigamori, unaware Amane’s moon rock is his old teacher’s yorishiro and seemingly not talking to him much, only looking for Tsuchigomori when he needs him for something.

He is apathetic to practically everything, drowning in his own misery: Tsukasa is the only one that can break him out of his apathetic state, and he terrifies Hanako. Even though he is the titular character, we never see Hanako’s boundary because he doesn’t want to face his yorishiro, finding it much easier to hide and spend his afterlife in the bathroom instead.

Tsukasa was important to Amane, and while he is important to Hanako as well, Tsukasa is rarely perceived as his brother, his presence is mostly treated as the personification of Hanako’s guilt. Hanako hasn’t tried to understand Tsukasa’s feelings or expressed worry about his well-being: out of all his comflicting emotions, his priority is usually to look away.

Hanako has spent his afterlife in this limbo of running away and not connecting with anyone, but eventually, he met two people he got very attached to: Kou and Nene.

He loves them a lot, much more than he loves himself.

He will try his very best to face Tsukasa, the embodiment of the trauma he has been running away from, to keep them safe.

Most of the time, Hanako fails: he is too terrified to act, he panics.

He can’t help when Tsukasa is his oponent.

Even outside his past, there are still things Hanako can’t help with.

The guilt and panic and pain of having no use for someone he wants to help hurt, but Hanako doesn’t run away from this pain.

He tries to help anyways, to reach out as best he can.

And Kou’s trouble linger in his mind, when the kid gets depressed again, Hanako try to help him again.

He want Kou to feel better.

He may have said “He is kind of like you, isn’t he, No.2?” but he doesn’t care about Yako or her attachment to Misaki, his attention is on Kou the second he finish his request: interested in his reaction, not her feelings.

He is selfish though, he cares about their feelings, but he mostly listens to his own, which is most obvious to see with Nene.

In the clock keepers arc he mentioned he kept Nene’s lifespan secret because he wants her to live her best life in blissful ignorance, but he doesn’t make her the priority, he makes himself: He is aware she hates toilet duty, no one enjoys being forced to waste their evenings cleaning a bathroom, but he likes it.

He rarely enjoys things, so he can’t let go of it. He can’t sacrifice this hint of joy for the sake of Nene living “her best life”.

He adores spending time with her, and since he has very little self-worth, he is convinced she would never spend time with him by her own volition, he needs to use the cleaning duty to keep her close.

Is why he gets so happy when she calls him a friend.

This love, this care, is something Hanako really wants from her.

But is also something Hanako doesn’t think he deserves.

He can get frustrated by how much they love him, by how distorted their view is, as if he is a ‘good ghost’. He loves their kindness but he feel greedy for it, he loves their optimist but he is constantly looking down at them for it.

He loves them but he hates himself. So he sabotage himself.

He tells Kou and Nene point blank his bad traits “I am dead already. I don’t care if someone dies or not.” “I killed someone and you shouldn’t excuse it” “I am selfish, I care about you Nene, and not your best friend.” are things he only tell Nene and Kou, as if he was screaming. “I am not a good ghost!” even if he will never  tell them “Leave me alone, stop visiting me.”

Hanako is constantly fighting between clinging to what he loves, regardless of how much his behavior hurt them, and telling himself he should want them away from him.

Both of his attempts to save Nene involved being away from her, either trapping her in picture-perfect until she forgot about him, or exchanging Aoi’s lifespan with Nene’s, saving her but making it so he can’t see her again, and she would eventually forget about him.

The more Hanako's love for Nene grow the bigger the lengths he is willing to go for her, even if at it core, his love remains selfish, he knew Nene wouldn’t be happy with his solutions, but he doesn’t care, cause she will live, and she will live by his own hands.

He acts like doesn’t know why he does this a lot of times:

And to some degree, he truly doesn’t know.

Hanako has many mental blocks when it comes to admitting vulnerability, even to himself. He looks anguished when he confesses to Nene that he wants her to live.

Hanako never had a wish, not outside his “wish” to atone, which he constantly refears to as punishment, not something he personally want, just something he deserves.

 Even as Amane he had given up on his wish.

So wishing for Nene to live is a very new feeling.

This wish makes him go against his duties as No.7 and his quest to ‘repent’, but he can’t even care because he really wants her to live. And is not like going against “god’s will” is what trouble him, since he destroys yorishiros the second he got the chance.

He just want her to not die that much. He can no longer deny he is smitten with her.

We can see this all consuming care with Kou too, even if it is more subtle it’s still very present, and just as impactful in his afterlife.

Nene is someone he loves but very rarely rely on, she is his special someone, he’ll go above and beyond to do what he believe is best for her, ask anyone and even if they disapprove of his actions, they can’t deny he cling to her, always ready to rescue her.

His view on Kou is different, he is someone he ask to fight and help. Is not that he doesn’t trust Nene, not exactly, but he had the “I’ll keep you in the dark mentality” from the second they met, while he never planed to treasure Kou, he just saw enough potential, or use, in this exorcist kid to occasionally rely on him.

Hanako plans for Kou only involved a vague “he can exorcise me later” idea, but he ends up genuinely caring about Kou after he stand up for him agaist Teru in the young exorcist arc. 

It’s no longer just “this boy is so funny! I can both make fun of him and use him”, now Kou is his friend.

Just compare how he treats Kou when he is in Yako’s boundary, and in Hell of Mirrors.

He has gotten the habit to be more honest with Kou, he is always counting on him on little things when they are together, and it hurts so bad when Kou fail, because Hanako trusts him, and he hasn’t trusted someone in such a personal way in 60 years.

Hanako is more comfortable hating himself them his friends, so he usually doesn’t let his dissapointment in Kou linger. Focusing most of his negative thoughts on himself.

Kou isn’t infallible, but he is the one Hanako trusts the most. Hanako used to trust Kou almost blindly, holding on to the feeling, but once he was let down, he gets so hurt, he resents the feeling.

He is a contradictory character. It feels like he hate Kou at times and is frustrated by Nene, but he can’t stop caring about them. He only got attached to two people, he can try, and he will, but he can’t pretend they aren’t important to him.].

We know Hanako lingered in Mei's fake world because his deepest wish is to be human with Nene. So even though it is a big red flag for Nene to see “Amane” in her class, the supernatural couldn’t resist playing pretend.

Just for a bit, just for a taste of a normal life with her.

He is consistently selfish and irrational when it comes to Nene. He can’t let go.

His view on Kou is less frenzy but he can’t be discarded either, the kid is the other half of his reason to want to be alive after years of just accepting his death.

He have made up his mind about not going anywhere, he still refuse to follow the crew to Mei's exit, to the moon, but he wants Kou and Nene to always come to him.

Cause even thought Yashiro was his focus, and Mitsuba took most of Kou’s time, Hanako does make it very clear he want Kou there. He even try to knock Kou out like he did with Nene the second he notices Mitsuba failed to distract him.

He risked Kou being in this world, indulged Mitsuba in his dream to be human and live a normal school life by the side of friends, which is a wish Hanako has shown to actively disapprove of in hell of mirrors (and is the very same wish that Hanako have expressed to have in this arc), because Kou is part of it.

His motives for wanting to trap Kou until he lose his memories are unclear but his anger towards Kou for giving him hope after years of nothing only to realize he can’t back up his promises to make Nene live is all over picture perfect.

And Hanako is a coward, he get angry kou want to stop him, discount his anger on Mitsuba, doesn’t explain anything, take Nene, and leave Kou confused.

Hanako only loses his patience and tell how he feels when Kou is in his way, and Hanako needs to beat him if he wants Nene to stay.

The one thing that he’ll always prioritize above all else is Nene after all.

There is a certain determination to only focus on Nene after picture-perfect, not take Kou as seriously.

And what kills me is that Hanako’s attempts to distance himself are very half-hearted.

It fails.

No matter how real his anger and dissapointment, his care is just as real, if not more so. He is still eager to play fight with Kou and spend time with him. Their overall trio dynamic isn't affected.

Is always “Nene” and “Kou” and “everyone else”. Even when Kou isn’t in the scene, Hanako thinks of him.

There is this idea Kou is important, an implied “If I can’t save Nene, Kou will be the one to save her”, even with all the reasons and proof he has that Kou can’t do something as big as alter her fate, part of him still believe Kou can do it. Is a part of him that is illogical and Hanako hates it, and doesn’t want to deal with it.

So he focus on Nene's lifespan, he became obsessed with it.

He has always been possessive of Nene. In any chapter they are together he is touchy and flirty and so openly attached to her, it’s insane!

He knows he is in love.

He also knows he is the ghost of a dead killed and feels like Nene deserves better than what he has to offer, but he can’t let her go.

Even when he is determined to grant her wish, to make a ‘no turn back’ decision, his determination crumbles the second they are face to face, his logic dies and he is just... Happy to see her again.

Even if he knows his plans failed, even if he knows she will die, he just... like seeing her.

His love is openly selfish and doomed to not last, which is something he understands and doesn’t know how to deal with, but just like he can’t force himself to truly hate Kou and stop believing in him, he also can’t force himself to stop loving Nene and desperately trying to find ways to make her live.

He is a mess.

[deltamb3r]

Howdy Delta. This is the anon who made that big post some weeks ago that you said inspired you to write Winter Warmth. Let me tell you, I have read that a good number of times. It has been exceedingly too long since I have seen an artist make great use of an illness scenario. I have a particular soft spot for characters who become injured or ill because it can really bring out the true colors of the relationship between said characters. That, and my heart melts to pieces just seeing a character you love become so vulnerable and suffering and needing help; and the one closest to them taking care of them as best they can. Not only was it a story that really piqued my interests, but it was done in such a constructive way. You used that scenario to really dive into Narinder's psyche and why he suffers the way he does and how ultimately he realizes he was the cause for his own misery. I can be hard to please sometimes with writing but I keep coming back to your piece because it is seriously well written. I said this last time too that your work in general inspires me greatly and if I had the time, I'd also write some CoTL stories. I say all of this to make the point that the work you have done has made an impact. I think and get ideas because of the work you do. I'm always on the lookout for artists who get me thinking and you're one of them. In fact, you were the first artist I saw among the CoTL community that drew me into it. So if you've come to think that your work means nothing and isn't good anymore then I am here to gladly state the opposite. Even if you don't produce CoTL work anymore you've already made a lasting impression. I just hope that after some time you can come to love what you do again. For me the most heartbreaking thing to see is artists or other creators giving up and even deleting their own work out of guilt or frustration. Your work is too thought-provoking and visually impressive to be cast into oblivion. So let me say, I do hope you find the spark again. All people should have a passion that they can be proud of. So do whatever needs doing to get that spark back. Not for our sake but for yours. All of us just want you to be well and joyful. So please take care.

I can't find the right words to express how this message fills me with joy. I really appreciate it. And I'm really hoping to find again what made me happy to make art. Thank you so much.

[lords-of-mayhem]

Lords Of Chaos characters as Fall Out Boy songs <3

Pelle // Heaven, Iowa

I've unspooled on the floor, I feel so A Star Is Born. Kiss my cheek, baby, please. Would you read my eulogy?

I will never ask you for anything except to dream sweet of me. Tell me, when the party ends, will you still love who I am?

Scar-crossed lovers forever, I'm checking myself out forever. I'm saving this all for later. Scar-crossed lovers, here we are, untouched forever.

They don't know how much they'll miss, at least until you're gone like this. Talking to the mirror, say, "save your breath. Half your life, you've been hooked on death." Twice the dreams, but half the love. Be careful what you bottle up. The chemistry is a mess, it seems. But me, I'm still a sunbeam.

I closed my eyes inside of your darkness and found your glow.

Faust // Alone Together

Cut me off, I lost my track. It's not my fault, I'm a maniac. It's not funny anymore, no, it's not.

My heart is like a stallion, they love it more when it's broken. Do you wanna feel beautiful? I'm outside the door, invite me in so we can go back and play pretend.

I'm on deck, yeah, I'm up next. Tonight, I'm high as a private jet.

I don't know where you're going, but do you got room for one more troubled soul? I don't know where I'm going, but I don't think I'm coming home. And I said, I'll check in tomorrow if I don't wake up dead. This is the road to ruin and we're starting at the end.

Let's be alone together, we could stay young forever. Scream it from the top of your lungs.

Occultus // Young And Menace

We've gone way too fast for way too long and we were never supposed to make it half this far.

And I lived so much life, lived so much life. I think that God is gonna have to kill me twice, kill me twice like my name was Nikki Sixx.

Woke up on the wrong side of reality and there's a madness that's just coursing right through me. Not sure I'm there yet, but I'm certain I've arrived.

I forgot what I was losing my mind about, I only wrote this down to make you press rewind and send a message: I was young and a menace.

Varg // Save Rock And Roll

I need more dreams and less life, and I need that dark in a little more light. I cried tears you'll never see, so fuck you! You can go cry me an ocean and leave me be.

You are what you love, not who loves you. In a world full of the word 'yes', I'm here to scream: no, no!

Wherever I go, trouble seems to follow. I only plugged in to save rock and roll.

Blood brothers in desperation, an oath of silence for the voice of our generation. Well, how'd it get to be only me? Like I'm the last damn kid still kicking that still believes.

I will defend the faith, going down swinging, I will save the songs that we can't stop singing.

Hellhammer // I Don't Care

Say my name and his in the same breath, I dare you to say they taste the same. Let the leaves fall off in the summer and let December glow in flames.

These friends, they don't love you. They just love the hotel suites now. I don't care what you think as long as it's about me, the best of us can find happiness in misery.

Take a chance, let your body get a tolerance. I'm not a chance, put a heat wave in your pants. Pull a breath like another cigarette, pawnshop heart trading up.

On the oracle in my chest. Sweat it out, shut your mouth. Free love on the streets, but in the alley, it ain't that cheap.

Blackthorn // What A Time To Be Alive

"That's the way, the world, it used to be before our dreams started bursting at the seams."

We're out here and we're ready, we're here and we're ready to livestream the apocalypse. I don't care if it's pretty, the view's so pretty from the deck of a sinking ship.

'Cause everything is lit except my serotonin, yeah. Everything is lit but my lightning bolt brain.

But baby, please, I just need someone to hold me even though you don't even know me. Oh, I'm going neon in the night time. Oh, what a time to be alive.

They say that I should try meditation, but I don't want to be alone with my own thoughts.

When I said, "leave me alone" this isn't quite what I meant. I got the quarantine blues, bad news, what's left? So, it seems the vulture's getting too full to fly. Oh, what a time to be alive.

Øystein // I Am My Own Muse

Here I am, not sure you should take a chance. I like playing dumb, letting you figure me out. But I was faded in my own defense, so drop a bomb on all the things we dreamed about.

Smash all the guitars 'til we see all the stars. Oh, got to throw this year away, we got to throw this away like a bad luck charm.

Trumpets bring the angels, but they never came and no one let them in 'cause they didn't know my name. I know I keep my feelings so tucked away, just another day spent hoping we don't fall apart. So, drop a bomb on all the things we dreamed about.

So, let's twist the knife again, twist the knife again like we did last summer. I'm just trying to keep it together, but it gets a little harder when it never gets better.

Necrobutcher // America's Suitehearts

You could've knocked me out with a feather. I know you've heard this all before, but we're just hell's neighbors. Why, why, why won't the world revolve around me?

Build my dreams, trees grow all over the streets, but I don't know much about classic cars. But I've got a lot of friends stuck on classic coke.

Media, please. Let's hear it for America's suitehearts! But I must confess, I'm in love with my own sins.

You can bow and pretend that you don't, don't know you're a legend. Time, time, time hasn't told anyone else yet. Let my love loose again. Oh, I don't know much about classic cars, but I've got a lot of friends stuck on classic coke.

Fenriz // 7 Minutes In Heaven (Atavan Halen)

I'm sleeping my way out of this one with anyone who will lie down. I'll be stuck fixated on one star when the world is crashing down.

I keep telling myself I'm not the desperate type, but you've got me looking in through blinds. I'm sitting out dances on the wall, trying to forget everything that isn't you. I'm not going home alone 'cause I don't do too well.

The only thing worse than not knowing is you thinking that I don't know. I'm having another episode, I just need a stronger dose. I keep telling myself, I'm not the desperate type.

But you've got me looking in through blinds.

Manheim // 27

If home is where the heart is then we're all just fucked. I can't remember and I want it so bad, I'd shoot the sunshine into my veins. I can't remember the good old days.

And it's kind of funny, the way we're wearing anchors on our shirts when being anchored aboard just feels like a curse.

My mind is a safe and if I keep it then we all get rich. My body is an orphanage, we take everyone in. Doing lines of dust and sweat off last night's stage just to feel like you.

The milligrams in my head, burning tobacco in the wind, chasing the direction you went.

You're a bottled star, the planets align just like Mars. You shine in the sky. Are all the good times getting gone? They come and go. I've got a lot of friends who are stars, but some are just black holes.

Attila // Dead On Arrival

Hope this is the last time 'cause I'd never say no to you. This conversation's been dead on arrival and there's no way to talk to you.

A rivalry goes so deep between me and this loss of sleep over you. This is side one, flip me over. I know I'm not your favorite record. The songs you grow to like never stick at first. So I'm writing you a chorus and here is your verse.

No, it's not the last time 'cause I'd never say no to you. The conversation's still dead on arrival and there's no way to talk to you when you're dead on.

Ann-Marit // 20 Dollar Nose Bleed

Have you ever wanted to disappear and join a monastery, go out and preach on Manic Street? Who will I be when I wake up next to a stranger on a passenger plane?

Permanent jet lag, please take me back. The mad key's tripping, singing vows before we exchange smoke rings.

Give me a pen, call me Mr. Benzedrine. But don't let the doctor in, I wanna blow off steam.

The same war his dad rehearsed came back with flags on coffins and said, "we won, oh, we won."

Only one book really matters, the rest of the proof is on the television. It's not me, it's you. Actually, it's the taxidermy of you and me. Untie the balloons from around my neck and ground me.

I'm just a racehorse on the track, send me back to the glue factory. Always thought I'd float away and never come back, but I've got enough miles on my card to fly the boys home on my own. But you know me: I like being all alone and keeping you all alone.

The charts are boring and the kids are snoring, and my ego's in a sling. You say you're not listening and I said I'm wishing.

Metalion // Champion

Champion, champion. I'm calling you from the future to let you know we've made a mistake. And there's a fog from the past that's giving me, giving me such a headache.

And I'm back with a madness, I'm a champion of the people who don't believe in champions. I got nothing but dreams inside, I got nothing but dreams.

I'm just young enough to still believe, still believe. But young enough not to know what to believe in.

If I can live through this, I can do anything. I got rage every day on the inside, the only thing I do is sit around and kill time. I'm trying to blow out the pilot light, I'm trying to blow out the light.

I'm just young enough to still believe, still believe. But just young enough not to know what to believe in.

[beasts-of-jadewood]

Super Lesbian Animal RPG Is The Best Video Game I've Played Since Minecraft

Now that I've finally regained my ability to make publicly visible posts, I'd like to take a moment to gush about the critically acclaimed indie game classic Super Lesbian Animal RPG by @ponett and associates.

Holy shit. Holy shit? This game is so fucking good you guys. Are you kidding me? I know the title sounds like a stupid joke and there is actually a lot of humor in this game but you know what? This is a video game that's worth taking seriously. I've never given a shit about romance as a genre before getting into @slarpg because all the romance stories I've seen as a kid are either dragged-out "Will They, Won't They?" types, painful divorce stories, or fucking Romeo and Juliet. There seems to be this overwhelming belief in the genre that the greatest obstacle faced by a truly happy couple that's meant for each other is the process of getting together, and once they've gotten together the story can end. Of course, anyone who's ever had parents knows that shit isn't true, which is why I'm so fucking happy that SLARPG is a romance story about a couple that's already together and it showcases how they can have disagreements and awkward moments but still overcome them and keep going. I love that shit.

In my opinion, the most important thing a turn-based RPG developer needs to do is make sure the plot of their game is solid. With a more action-oriented game like the Souls series or Armored Core, the story doesn't fucking matter and nobody cares about it. People are in it for the exciting, challenging gameplay. If you show them a crisp parry animation that feels better than sex when you time it perfectly or a sick-ass command grab from a boss or whatever, then they're already sold without even knowing who any of the characters are. But you can't have those things with a turn-based RPG so the story is the most important part, and holy shit did SLARPG have the story nailed down on a cross and ready for worship.

See, I've spent my entire life searching for more stories that are relatable to people who live in the real world but at the same time provide a better alternative to the bleak reality we all know and don't love. SLARPG is one of those stories. Melody and Allison will talk about shit like housing being too expensive and Claire will mention how she doesn't talk to her transphobic parents anymore but they're also able to find happiness and stability with the power of love. It gives the game a sort of hopeful undertone that it's meant to represent the real world if people had the courage to do something about all the awful shit we have. Basically, SLARPG shows that misery exists in its world without normalizing it. Every drop of tear shed by Melody is treated with the immense gravity it deserves. At no point did the game say "This suffering you feel is just what happens in the world, better get used to it kid." but it also simultaneously shows how it's possible to move forwards from that sadness one step at a time. I fucking love that shit.

Read more for spoilers.

Now, getting into spoiler territory. I really like how this game also managed to marry its personal, emotional conflict with its greater, physical conflict. At no point in the game are you made to feel like the action-packed excitement of "Fight enemies, save the world." is interrupted so the characters can work through their private emotional insecurities. No, the characters' emotional insecurities and the world-ending threat they face feed into each other and feel as though they're one in the same. Even the main villain was revealed to be someone suffering from similar insecurities in the end and it's the protagonists' ability to make a positive example of themselves that played a key role in defeating her.

Speaking of the villain, she actually made me briefly consider not liking this game since she initially said that she wanted to destroy all the world's evil and recreate the world in a better state, only for the heroes to immediately try and stop her. I had a huge issue with this plot development at first because I hate it when people who wish to change the world for the better are portrayed as the bad guys for some reason. That is, until SLARPG revealed that its main villain was just making up an excuse and simply wanted personal revenge for the perceived murder of her wife that didn't even actually happen, while the heroes wanted to stop her because they were understandably ignorant and afraid of what the fuck her plan actually meant and how many casualties it might cause. In other words, the villain never actually intended to make the world a better place and was thus not portrayed as a bad person for doing so. She wasn't portrayed as a bad person at all, in fact. Rather, she's more depicted as someone blinded by her own rage and victimized by enabling trolls who wanted to start shit for fun, which made her far more relatable and interesting in my opinion.

All in all, I think SLARPG was great. It's a thematically consistent and tonally hopeful story with a good message and relatable characters. The game itself also left quite a few unaddressed antagonists like the evil crypto-mining corporation that keeps the reanimated corpses of former employees as slaves, or the mysterious being from the astral plane that possessed the protagonist and was never truly defeated. These things make me hopeful that we'll get a sequel or DLC or something one day, and I'll be there to support this series every step of the way. Bobby, if you're reading this, thank you so much. I haven't seriously enjoyed a contemporary work of fiction for years now but this game reminded me of how it feels to actually love a video game for once instead of playing through it out of spite like I did with the Souls series. Keep up the good work, for real.

[myechoecho]

Rewatching W: Two Worlds

ep 5

It was absolutely heartbreaking to see Cheol find the comic books and realize his entire life is there. He sits there and reads his life story from the beginning (this was also a neat way to give us some more background on Cheol's life and some details on the prosecutor). He has to relive everything. After he is just defeated. When the bookstore employee tells him that the series has been a best seller for 5 years, all he can do is laugh. The pain of his existence is nothing more than entertainment to millions.

He goes to Yeon Joo, and even through his turmoil is able to smile and flirt with her. I like that he’s able to say that he regrets pushing her for the answers. He never expected anything like his. He’s grateful to her – her consideration and her protection. He genuinely thanks her.

Their roles are reversed - she wants him to stay with her because he has no money, house or id. He’s incredibly touched. He kisses her, and this the first real kiss they share. She is still his key, and now his only light.

Cheol, of course, cannot stay put. He goes to see Sung Moo. Going through his house incredibly only causes more trauma for him. He sees the planning boards, the character models, the sketches. He finds out that Yeon Joo is Sung Moo’s daughter and while he is hurt by this, he is not angry with her all.

In betweeen this we get the fight in the operating room between Yeon Joo and the Professor, which makes me laugh. It’s a bit of lightness in a heavy episode. Yeon Joo, the shipper vis the Professor, the anti. As someone who has shipped multiple couples since childhood, and has had some anti ships, this highly amused me as it felt very familiar.

The confrontation between Cheol and Sung Moo amazing. I forgot that Cheol had actually dragged Sung Moo in first. Even though Cheol is a living breathing person in that world, he stabs chooses to stab Cheol. Cheol manages to stab him but is not injured. It makes even more sense why how Cheol knew he could shoot Yoon Joo without her getting hurt.

The flashback shows a young Yeon Joo, drawing to escape her parents argument and we see what looks like an early version of Cheol

Cheol lays it all out for Sung Moo – he’s rightfully furious. Sung Moo is a miserable man, terrible husband, father and an alcoholic (I think his drinking only got worse through years).

Now Cheol says Sung Moo made Cheol the opposite of himself, but that's only really true post the attempted suicide. Up to that point his life was even more miserable than Sung Moo's. As for the suicide plot, Cheol points out the misery porn comic was the only thing Sung Moo felt he had control over. Sung Moo may not be able to commit suicide but he could make Choel do it. It’s interestingthat Cheol didn’t realize that it was not Sung Moo who saved him; Cheol saved hinmself.

I have some sympathy for Sung Moo here. Drawings changing on their own making him think he as crazy, his friends laughing at him and dismissing him, he’s an alcoholic. He does want to endure for Yeon Joo. The money he makes he wants for Yeon Joo (though he stole her character).

Cheol has the gun pointed on Sung Moo but he is unconcerned. He's deliberately cruel to Cheol. He taunts Cheol to shoot him because he, confident that his character set up is absolute and Cheol won’t deviate. It is not in his character to shoot an old man. Yeon Joo, who has been listening this entire time, KNOWS that Cheol would shoot if provoked enough.

Cheol is willing to go back to the original planned ending but it Sung Moo says it won’t work because Cheol has to understand to accept it (part of his character set up). Again, Cheol is perfectly happy going back as long as he knows who murdered his family.

The final blow is when Sung Moo reveals that there was not culprit - it was just a setup. He didn’t ever plan to let Cheol find out who it was so he didn’t need to know the identity of the killer nor did he care. I do call BS on his explanation. The hero is made when the crime isn’t solved? Ummm what?? If you are a good enough writer, the story doesn’t have to end with finding the culprit. Even disregarding that – most stories DO come to an end and finding the culprit would be a natural ending. God, how unsatisfying as a reader to have a beloved main character just get killed off for no good reason, ending the story without resolving any of the ongoing plot lines.

For Cheol, his family was real. His trauma was real. His pain and endless suffering was real because he lived it. It was not just something that Sung Moo drew.

Cheol is able to show mercy and simply asks Sung Moo to find another way. But Sung Moo can’t leave it alone. He taunts Cheol again. Cheol is HIS creation and his character set up means he won't shoot. This is what finally breaks Cheol and he shoots Sung Moo.

Sung Moo was so arrogant that he forgot the reason they became entangled is because Cheol refused to die. He’s been deviating from his determination for years.

Still have zero issues with Cheol shooting him here. He's in a highly traumatized stated and Sung Moo has tried to kill him multiple times. If I'm remembering right, even Yeon Joo didn't have much of problem with it.

[dawsonskyelar]

I love talking about my sons too much to wait for someone to ask about them so I'm just going to yap here for Storyteller Saturday. Obligatory do not read if intending to read the novels warning.

@bardic-tales @creators-club

What inspired the core theme of your WIP?

I've always loved the idea that there are infinite versions of ourselves, and I thought that the idea of these different selves meeting was interesting. Also opposites attract is my catnip.

How does your WIP explore the balance between light and darkness?

YAY a question about my writing process! Sebastian suffers from depression and I've tried my best to weave that into the narrative. But I also know that pure misery porn isn't fun, so I balance it with funny moments between him and the other characters.

What personal values or experiences influenced the themes in your WIP?

I decline to answer this. All I'll say is that this trilogy is a manifestation of everything I've experienced in my life.

How did you choose the title of your WIP, and what does it symbolize?

My Heart Will Go On is my favourite song of all time, and 'the spaces between us' just sounds romantic and illustrates the first novel perfectly. The sequels are currently titled If You'd Never Left and When I'm With You, and along with the first novel, illustrate Sebastian's relationship with true happiness. And I also think the combinations of these words sound incredibly poetic.

Which character arc best represents your WIP's central theme?

The entire trilogy is about Sebastian's fight against depression and coming to terms with his past. Nick goes through a similar path but we don't really see it because the story is told through Sebastian's POV.

What’s your favorite trope to read and write, and why?

Opposites attract, duh. I also love characters overcoming personal obstacles against all odds.

How do you approach writing complex character relationships?

I think about how Nick's and Sebastian's pasts have influenced them to become who they are in the story and how that can inform their thoughts and reactions. The best thing about opposites attract is that you don't have to look too far to look for conflict.

What’s the biggest challenge you’ve faced while writing this story?

Finding motivation and getting around my healthy eating program because I CANNOT not drink sugary drinks when writing.

Do you prefer outlining your WIP in advance or letting it develop organically?

I think about how I want the story to progress, what kind of arc I want the characters to go through, then plan out the best conflicts for that purpose. However, the outline is subject to change as I learn more about the characters and the world.

How do you stay motivated when tackling emotionally intense scenes?

What do you mean? I LIVE for emotionally intense scenes, baby!

Which of your characters would you get along with best in real life?

Nick, I think. We both love to have fun and eat food.

If you could spend a day with any of your characters, who would it be and why?

Nick and Heidi - Nick for the fun aspect and Heidi for a not-talking-much kindred spirit.

Which character is most misunderstood, and how would you defend them?

Definitely Sebastian because I know some people don't like doom-and-gloom characters like him. That's OK, my story isn't going to be for everyone.

Who was the hardest character to write, and what made it challenging?

Probably alt-Heidi. She's such a bitch and so different from Heidi that it was hard to make her at least tolerable. Also figuring out the logistics of her background was hell.

Which character would you trust with a dangerous secret?

Heidi. She's extremely shy and talking to people is hard for her, but she's still trustworthy even without those things.

Share a line or excerpt that reveals a character’s deepest fear.

His pale skin, long hair and slanted eyes never failed to remind Sebastian of a snake. If he had a list of phobias–not that he did–then snakes would be the second item.

What’s a favorite dialogue exchange you’ve written?

‘Up at this hour already, bastard? You’re such a prissy goody-two-shoes, y’know that? It’s like they’d make you cough up two years of pay if you were a second late, y’know what I mean–?’

CRASH.

‘OW!’

‘That’s what you get for changing my alarm tone, deadlast.’

‘I watched a man disappear, Nick!’

‘So?’

‘So?’ Sebastian couldn’t believe this. Was this the same Nick who always put other people before himself? ‘Do you realise what this means? If more people are moving across dimensions, something bad will happen!’

‘You’re talking bullshit! Nothing’s gonna happen! It’s just a swap of places!’

Sebastian was incredulous. ‘So you’d stay here even if other people were taken away from their lives?’

‘Yeah!’ There was no hesitation in Nick’s voice.

‘And why is that?’

‘Because my parents’re here.’ Nick glared at Sebastian defiantly and bit down on his bottom lip that had started to quiver.

‘They’re not yours, Nick! They’re Nichole’s! Your parents are dead!’

‘They see me as their son. That’s good enough for me.’

Nick’s eyes were wet, but he didn’t shed a tear. ‘You don’t understand how much I want this. You had a family. You know having someone love you feels like. I never had that.

Share a scene where a character’s true nature is revealed.

The fire that he’d been trying to repress for over a decade flared through his system. Without warning he reached out and grabbed her by the throat. She let out terrified gagging sounds as he pinned her to the floor. She’d caused him irreversible damage. He was going to do the same to her, so she’d know how he felt.

‘I did everything I could,’ he growled at her. ‘Do you know how often I wake up at ungodly hours because of you? Crying because I couldn’t do anything to save you? Do you know how much I’d give to have all of it back so I can do it right?’

Sebastian’s hair was askew and his entire face was shining with sweat. He was the definition of a madman. He tightened his hold on Madeline’s neck and delighted at how she squirmed and squeaked. This was it. He was finally going to put an end to this. At last, he’d be free from their clutches. How he’d longed to do this. Since the day they left him.

Post an excerpt that showcases your WIP’s central conflict.

See second part of 'Favourite dialogue' question.

Share a snippet that highlights a moment of vulnerability or intimacy.

This excerpt is from my current WIP. Apologies for bad writing because it hasn't been edited yet.

He felt something warm and solid against his back and Nick’s hand reached up to close the cabinet. ‘C’mon, can’t we make this last just a bit longer?’

Sebastian’s heart skyrocketed. The sensation of Nick’s body against his was almost enough to send him into cardiac arrest. He was seeing stars and his knees hand turned to water.

‘The… The pizza will go bad.’ Even his tongue felt heavy in his mouth.

‘It can wait a few minutes.’ Nick rested his chin on Sebastian’s shoulder.

‘Most people wouldn’t say… the kitchen is a romantic place.’

‘Who gives a fuck.’ Nick turned Sebastian’s head so they could face each other. The rhythm of his heart against his chest was almost painful. Nick’s lips were shining and the low light hid his eyes, giving them a mysterious look. He wished death would hurry up so he didn’t have to think any longer.

Nick mouthed something but Sebastian couldn’t hear it over the rushing in his ears. Nick’s arms around him felt like an anaconda had captured him. Even as Nick moved closer his eyes were still hidden. Sebastian’s stomach rolled and he felt liquid shooting up his throat. He held onto the counter’s edge as Nick’s lips finally touched his.

What’s an angst headcanon that isn’t explicitly shown in your story?

The fact that Sebastian remembers what his family looked like when he last saw them implies he watched all of them die.

What’s a little-known fact about your main character’s past?

Nobody helped Nick when he was beaten up by the orphanage's bullies - in fact they just stood and watched as he screamed in pain.

Do you have any secret backstories or plot twists you haven’t revealed yet?

In the third book Nick hates the idea of Sebastian getting therapy because he got fucked over by the therapist he was forced to see when he was sent to jail.

What inspired your character’s name, and does it have a deeper meaning?

All the names in the trilogy share the same initials as their inspirations, so that's my base. For Sebastian I like the actor Sebastian Stan because he portrayed Bucky Barnes so brilliantly and he's so beautiful but I'm so lucky the name itself has potential for many nicknames. For Nick I took his name from Nick Carter, my favourite Backstreet Boys member, including the unusual spelling. Carter is a blond and he gets up every time life tries to kick him down which I find SO inspiring.

What’s a detail about your world-building that you love but rarely mention?

The reality cracks lead to other dimensions so in theory you can walk through one and you'll be travelling between them seamlessly.