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

[vasito-de-leche]

Ooh I just found your account on here! I love the way you write!

I just thought of this idea, and this can be with the reader with them as a group or single interactions, doesn't matter to me! ^^

What would the Suja Bois and Huntr/x do if they found out that the reader was a demon? Like they were cursed to be one, sold their soul etc.

Thank you <3

;KPOP DEMON HUNTERS SAJA BOYS - Finding Out You're A Demon

Compilation of headcanons and analysis about how the Saja Boys would react if they found out you're a demon.

welcome to my little blog!! ty for the kind words, I'm glad you like my writing <3

since the max number of characters I take for prompts is 5, I went with the saja boys cause I might have some ideas for oneshots involving huntrix for this prompt hehehoho

JINU

We basically see the way he'd react to this in the movie itself, but that was a very specific situation that required him to get close enough to Rumi to gain her trust.

I think this would still apply if you turned out to be someone more influential or powerful than him in the human world; he'd follow the exact same steps to befriend you, until he could start pulling at your strings without you noticing.

If we're talking about a coworker or acquaintance, someone that Jinu only knows superficially, then I can see him being much colder--you're someone he can exploit by simply knowing you're a demon in hiding, he makes this known from the very beginning so that you know your place. With how pragmatic he is, he's the least bothered by things like morality and such. If you're an obstacle, then he won't hesitate to subtly threaten you to stay out of his way, maybe even using his own status of working directly with Gwi-ma.

If you're someone close to him, however, then his reaction would be that of sadness and camaraderie--you're stuck in the same boat as him, you're aware of the consequences and the eternal doom and gloom that follows you just by existing. It sucks, but you can actually relate to him. Jinu would not throw you any words of pity or coddle you, of course, but he does soften when the two of you are alone. Not enough to be noticeable to outsiders, just little things that you can pick up--stepping in front of you whenever your patterns begin to show due to distress, a comforting hand on your shoulder if your negative emotions start spiraling out of control.

Overall, I like the idea that Jinu doesn't truly know how to verbalize nor show his concern and/or affection because of the centuries he's spent as a demon himself--he's internalized the fact that he can't feel anything but misery, but when presented with this situation, he does choose to try, as awkward or stiff as he may come across.

I also like the idea that he unconsciously does this as a way to make up for the way he betrayed his family. He didn't get to protect his sister, nor make his mother happy, so this is the next best thing.

When it comes to discussing your status as a demon, Jinu wouldn't pry into how you came to be like this. Or rather, he doesn't want to know. It would only add to the heartbreak he's already trying to forget so desperately. He doesn't want to discuss how to stop being a demon, how to get better, how to cope with it and anything of the sort; isn't it enough that he accepts you for who you are? The lowest type of creature, stuck at the very bottom, exactly like him? Why try to change what you are? You did this to yourself, after all.

There is a huge contrast between Jinu's actions and his words that could easily become the catalyst for constant fights between the two of you; he's gentle and understanding when he tries to keep the world from seeing you for the demon you are, but his words are so very cruel, denying any ounce of hope that you may have. And he doesn't do this on purpose, I insist--he genuinely thinks this is the best course of action for hopeless demons like you two.

ROMANCE

Regardless of your relationship with Romance, he's the most bothered about this discovery.

With his themes of, well, romance and love and what have you, I like to portray him as someone who is extremely contradicting, someone who adds a very specific flavor of drama by being so emotional and/or attuned to other people's feelings, while romanticizing the world around him, seeing it through rose-colored glasses for fun. This is how he entertains himself.

Romance, similar to most Saja Boys, thinks it's near impossible to escape Gwi-ma's influence on him; yet that romantic and dreamy side of him still holds on to the hope that maybe, just maybe, it's possible. And if it isn't, then he can at least get the satisfaction of pretending that it can happen, or that he can live as a human once again. That's part of why he joined Jinu; the chance to return to the human world as one of them, rather than a demon.

So finding out that you--someone that's been lingering around in his life whether as a coworker or as someone close to him--are actually a fucking demon? Well, it shatters the perfect illusion he's built for himself. I can see him looking at you with shock and anger, as if he had any right to look down on you when you're just like him, before begging you to prove him wrong--that you misspoke or that he misheard. Romance goes through all stages of grief in the span of a week.

I think another big factor of his reaction lies in the fear that comes with the possibility that you might have known he's a demon. That someone saw right through him without his knowledge, without him choosing to reveal himself. Or the idea that he somehow missed the signs of your own demonic heritage. As much as Romance might care for you, this is still something that terrifies him to know end.

It would take a lot for your relationship to return to something stable, until he cools down and understands that it might've been just as terrifying for you to reveal yourself.

Romance is much more understanding than Jinu when it comes to existing as a demon, or the story about how you became one--he would like to know how it happened, if only to lessen the burden on your shoulders and maybe, just maybe, share his own story as well so he can bitch about all the things that went wrong.

He also entertains the idea of finding a way to be free from Gwi-ma with you, even if deep down he doesn't truly believe in it, it's fun to talk with you about all the things you'd like to do in the future. All the places he wants to visit from his life as a human to see how they've changed in the years he's been gone, and all the new things you'd like to show him. I can see Romance also teaching you a few tricks on how to pass off better as a human, like making sure to cover up the marks with make-up in case any nosy hunters that might see them show up.

ABBY

Abby's reaction depends on how you feel about your demonic heritage; if you dislike this side of yourself, then he acts a bit more solemn, attempting to cheer you up, and if you do happen to like being a demon, then he jokes around and cheers with you.

All in all, this information doesn't change a lot for him but he knows better than to pull a Mystery and give you absolutely no feedback and no reaction. It does come as a surprise and it explains many, many different things but overall? Well, you're a demon, how's that been going for you?

While Abby is not immune to Gwi-ma and Jinu's influence throughout the years, I like to think that his straightforward nature keeps him from conflating or mixing up his feelings and projecting them on you--not to say he's good at compartmentalizing his own set of emotional baggage, but he at least understands that whatever he may feel about being a demon is not something that instantly applies to you or someone else. Whether you're close or just an acquaintance, he adapts to what he believes is the best approach for your situation.

And after that is done, he would instantly focus on figuring out all the differences between the two of you, especially if you're a different type of demon and not grim reapers like the Saja Boys--from patting you on the back because damn, eternal damnation must suck to asking if you could transform so he can see, the change is almost jarring. He offers to transform too if you're curious as well, flirting here and there in a way that makes this reveal feel almost trivial, like there was nothing to worry about in the first place.

I like to think that Abby is just very good at disarming people in his own way, he does this every day already by being the eye-candy of the group, and this is one of those moments; it might seem like he trivializes how being a demon may affect you, but the genuine curiosity he has and the casualness of it all can be endearing (this casualness is, of course, completely gone once you show the same amount of interest in him).

Don't expect him to be more protective of you or anything on the spot--you've managed to live with your human disguise for this long, Abby doesn't see the point in stepping in when you're already so capable at taking care of yourself. He can, but only if you ask him yourself as some sort of favour, he doesn't mind at all.

You'll just have to live with him being funny or flirty about it. You need to cover your patterns? Well, good thing it's cold and you can wear his jacket, it smells just like him and it looks great on you. Wink.

MYSTERY

Mystery is a tricky one, because chances are that he's already figured out you're a demon very early on, so it's not exactly a surprise.

His reaction to this information is also very underwhelming, since it's not exactly his business to pry into your life or what you might be doing; if you're just an acquaintance, he literally couldn't care less. You do you. And if you're someone close to him, then he's not going to say a single thing about it either, that's for you to bring up whenever you feel like. And even then, he would just give you a smile and a thumbs up. Easy peasy.

Of course, he's still a demon himself, one that is driven a lot by his instincts (ie: the feral barking, like, hello?) so while he knows it's best to wait until you come to him with this part of yourself, he might just end up slipping.

I like to portray Mystery as someone who prefers being a demon over a human, no matter the caveats and disadvantages that come with an indentured existence to Gwi-ma, so if you're the type to struggle to keep your humanity despite being a demon, that might rub him the wrong way. Because that means you disapprove of your demonic heritage, that you disapprove of him by extension. Whenever you say something about changing, about fitting in--anything he can relate to the way you're hiding in the human world--there's a chance Mystery might just snap with an off-handed comment, carelessly tossed your way in reproach. Something that very clearly states he knows you're like him.

Mystery's reaction to finding out you're a demon is so very underwhelming because he accepts this part of you so easily, you're a demon like him and he likes sharing something so meaningful to him with you. The games of repression and the emotional baggage that people like Rumi or Romance play don't interest him in the slightest. He's also a bit similar to Jinu in the way that he doesn't care about how you became a demon--or rather, he doesn't need to know, especially if you're trying to justify yourself in any way. He'll definitely listen if it's something you desperately want to tell him, but it won't change the way he feels about you.

I can see Mystery slowly helping you come around with accepting your demon heritage, not quite hyping you up but clearly approving when you let go from time to time--he loves your claws, your odd skin demonic tone, and he especially adores seeing your real eyes glow whenever you get worked up over something. That's what he considers the real you.

100% enables you to be a little more fiercer, to take advantage of your current situation. What's the point of being doomed for all eternity if you can't have fun with it from time to time?

BABY

Right off the bat, if you're not the one to tell him you're a demon and he has to find out due to a third party? He'd be pissed. Absolutely fucking pissed that you didn't tell him yourself, especially if you're someone he holds close to his heart. Two months of the silent treatment at minimum.

What's the point of all the special privileges he gives you as his equal if you won't tell him something like this? Something that actually matters? You're supposed to be his bestie, his second in command, the one person he actually respects. Nevermind the fact that Baby wouldn't reciprocate in this aspect; he expects you to tell him, but wouldn't tell you he's a demon if that ever put the band in trouble.

But if you do tell him, then Baby would be ecstatic--while he's not fully accepting of being a demon due to how stressful it can be sometimes, how much he hates not getting his way when confronted with Gwi-ma and all, he's similar to Mystery in the sense that he likes matching with you.

Instantly demands to see your patterns, to see how much yours match his, basically hopping in circles around you, full of giddy energy. Baby also carries a similar energy to Abby in this aspect, being more playful than downright depressing like Jinu, but in a way that is definitely more careless and focused on how this reveal makes him feel, rather than how it might affect you.

If this bothers you in any way, it's up to you to reel him in and sit him down to properly talk. And trust me, he hates that you're raining on his parade but a few jokes and half-hearted threats here and there to snitch on him whenever he skips a rehearsal will get Baby to sit down.

I like to think that there's a game of push and pull with Baby in which you constantly have to reel him in from his usual bratty shenanigans, but it's not like you're actually babysitting him, a grown ass demon--everyone knows that if Baby doesn't feel like doing something, he simply won't. The fact that he listens and heeds to your words is already earth-shattering for his band mates, absolute proof that you're very special for him, even if he treats the story of how you became a demon like casual coffee talk gossip.

Oh and don't expect him to cover up for you--there is a part of Baby that resents having to hide what he is, so if you're ever at the verge of being revealed to the world, you can bet it's because of one of his elaborate pranks. "Don't you want to know what would happen if everyone knew?" This is the only time he wouldn't mind revealing himself.

[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.

[eldritch-spouse]

hey Pinniee.......so i recently stumbled across a new..........certain interest of mine.... and that may ormay not be gettting exteremely turned on when i drink and am encouraged to drink.....I feel like Gallon would like this for obvious reasons but....are there any others that mayhaps....indulge this certain interest of mine? the remasters are brilliant!!!! by the way! you're truly an amazing artist and i find myself thinking of your characters and world semi frequently (especially in unrelated situations and im just like????okay but theyd match my freak<3)

TW: Noncon on most of these

Who likes getting you stupid drunk?

Fank-e is an unlikely candidate, you'd think. But this robot has a particular obsession with seeing squishies out of their mind. That's why he always has stashes of psychostimulants and boosts- Generally many mind-altering substances. Logically, the machine doesn't do drugs, it can't. But it likes seeing you tripping the fuck out of orbit, and stuffing his hands everywhere while you're at it. Alcohol is really no different. Even when you get sick form it, Fank-e's still hovering over you in excitement.

In the same way Jayde doesn't mind buying affection, he also doesn't mind buying you a few drinks for it. Are you sure you can handle Hell's alcohol? Are you? Then show him. Take a few shots with the imp. He's got less body mass than you, so surely... Jayde loves the way you get sloppier with each sip, when you can barely hold yourself together and giggle at all his lame jokes. He likes how he can slide a hand into your shirt and you barely care. You're so pretty like this, letting him take you anywhere, touch you anywhere.

Lacai can and will use pheromones often, but sometimes, it's a bit of a challenge to use other means of getting someone into his hands. Drinks? Oh, he can afford some of the best, he knows places where the ambiance is just right and every glass is served to aesthetic perfection. Oh, just another one, Lacai promises that next one looks even more gorgeous. Take a photo of it, post it somewhere. Not many people get the privilege. One moment you're looking at your drink, the next the world is spinning and his tongue is inside your mouth.

Fasma is a bum. Misery loooves company. He's such a piece of shit for dragging a pretty thing like you down with him. Really, you've got a lot to look forward to, kid. You're not like him. But if there's anyone he'd love to have some drinks with, it'd be you. You're just too gorgeous, let him treat you to the finer stuff, make this old man some company. He's totally not grinning watching you get wasted, totally not going to slip his fingers into your skirt and watch you slump all open. Yer such a lightweight, he'd feel bad stealing from you even if he didn't like you.

Liter is heavy into alcohol. You're talking about the slime that got Gallon into his craft. Liter plies anyone he likes with drink and good vibes, he's a great talker too, so you're bound to stick around. While he's careful not to give you something crazy, what he does offer is sure to have you blackout hammered. It burns your throat but it burns so good, doesn't it? Yeah that one gets him in a mood too. You poor thing, come closer, he'll hold you so you don't fall, inside him...

Shags isn't a drinker. Buuuut, he shares a similar fascination to Fank-e, in a less intense manner. There's something about seeing the way you transform before his very own eyes, Shags always stocks up on the drinks you like, excitedly following your drunken rambling and engaging in your shenanigans. Please, have all you like, he can afford it, and it makes him so happy to see you so satisfied. Even the way you hold the glass is beautiful... He waits until you pass out somewhere, and promptly lets all his built up arousal seep off him like waves. You're in good hands, rest well...

Caius does enjoy getting blood drunk. And here's a funny thing- You don't even need alcohol to get drunk with him. Just let him feed a little too long and you'll see, that funny little lightheaded feeling that takes you over. He does so love caressing you in that state, singing your praises. Caius does, however, like joining festivities with his own drink, though always encourages you to have more with a blood-soaked grin. Oh what a joy you are like this! He loves jolly people- You're a magnet. And may the heavens damn him if the Magister isn't making the most out of it. Dance, dance with him...

Vorticia is a refined woman -When she's not pigging out at the table- She's incredibly fond of Gluttony's wines and whiskeys and all that good stuff. Flavored alcohol is especially to her tastes, and she knows you'll enjoy it too, you have an eye for this after all. There's nothing like long conversations across the halls, watching you stumble on shaky legs like a doe, until the Queen is carrying you to your chambers, still holding a glass to your lips. Doesn't she spoil you? Don't you like this?

Dishonorable mentions

Mooncalf. Everyone knows fae are indulgent, trapping you with food is common, but so is offering good alcohol. While Mooncalf is not typically the fae type you'd associate with liquor and such, he still delights in occasionally getting you drunk. You already belong to him, so why not celebrate, always?! Be jolly, be wild, be crazy with him, dance like a butterfly under the moonlight with him!

Rinx. He loves to watch you eat, he also loves to watch you drink, no wonder he likes watching you get drunk too. He's more excited and curious than aroused, but it's only a matter of time until he starts pawing at you, particularly if you're the type of drunk that gets a little frisky.

Patches and Stitches. One is a desperate opportunist, the other just likes to embarrass you, a match made in anything but heaven. Patches will subtly keep edging you new drinks, Stitches sloshes shots in his head and dunks them into your mouth like a horror show. You're wobbling your way into their hands regardless of who's piloting....

Cero doesn't so much enjoy the drunk part as he does the wardrobe malfunction that follows. Your helpless state as you slump there barely capable of making a phrase, dress askew, bra peeking, hair unkempt. You're hopeless. And he's steaming alive.

[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 ;).

[scholarinbookland]

Like Crazy MV Analysis Part 3: Symbolism and Thoughts

Link to Part 1

Link to Part 2

Thoughts on the MV’s Storyline and Symbolism

The opening sequence being our introduction into the world of this MV gave me my strongest theory about the plot of the MV. My main theory is that the Jimin in Set 2 is the present Jimin, attempting to recall the events of the rest of the MV. This is supported by the quote I’ve included below from the MV shoot sketch. He appears to be wanting to stay dreaming of when times were enjoyable, despite being aware of the underlying rot in hindsight.

Jimin says something interesting in the Like Crazy MV shoot sketch. I haven’t watched the movie Like Crazy, and so can’t comment on the exact scene he’s discussing, but he says that the concept used for the MV is a scene where the characters say something like the dialogue he includes in the opening of the song, which is back-translated in the subtitles of the sketch to, “You don’t have to worry, I won’t leave.” So Jimin himself says that the main storyline of the MV is a crumbling romantic relationship, even if it’s a literary device for a deeper meaning in the song. Again, a disclaimer: I am not saying that this is Jimin’s experience, just the character and storyline he’s acting out. He himself clarified that the MV was a dramatization with a lot of artistic license.

I’ve read the summary of the movie, and basically the couple break up due to an immigration issue, get back together and married, remain separated by the immigration issue, cheat on each other when apart, and then reunite to the open ending of a crumbling relationship. I’m assuming that this scene he’s referencing is either in the portion where the couple are getting married, or at the end of the film as the relationship falls apart. If you’ve seen the movie, please correct me if you’re more aware of what he’s talking about specifically.

The biggest and most obvious piece of symbolism running throughout the music video is the mud. Jimin says in the shoot sketch, “You’ll be able to see my room and my hand turn to mud because of a variety of emotions and memories”. He doesn’t specify what these emotions and memories are, so let’s look at what mud symbolizes.

Depending on the source, mud has a lot of symbolic meanings in literature, poetry, and dream interpretation. Given its placement in the MV, I’m going to focus on the negative meaning of mud and not the positive ones like rebirth, new life, etc. In this MV, mud can be interpreted as corruption, toxicity, stagnation, misery, or chaos. My best guess is that it is intended to be cross between all of these interpretations. The woman who pulls him into drunken escapism is not a good influence (corruption/toxicity), he becomes trapped in a cycle of escapist behavior (stagnation), this behavior gets out of control (chaos), and it ultimately makes him deeply depressed (misery). So the mud is intended to be the most obvious clue that this is not a happy storyline, and that there is an underlying darkness to the whole piece.

The piece of symbolism that I feel we as fans should be discussing more is the use of smartphones and the camera lens itself to represent the intense surveillance Jimin is under. This is the one piece of symbolism that I feel is not a reach to relate directly back to Jimin and not just the character he is playing. Even when Jimin’s character gets drunk and lets his guard down, people are recording and judging him. If he chose to make his character easier to play by also making him famous and surveilled in his private life, as Jimin has been experiencing for over a decade, that was a very pointed creative choice. Perhaps, instead of a visa like in the Like Crazy movie, the character Jimin is playing and that character’s love interest were separated by privacy and surveillance issues, or the difficulty of finding genuine romantic partners when famous.

I do feel that the woman we see briefly in the MV is intended to represent the female protagonist of the Like Crazy movie. The frequent scenes with Jimin wandering the crowd searching for someone, the juxtaposition with the woman in the crowd doing the same during the interlude, and the fade to black as soon as they lay eyes upon each other that felt to me like an implication of a time-lapse gave me the idea that, even if she is representing the escapist tendencies he was going through in the storyline of FACE or his reflection, she’s also a love interest in this MV. So I interpret their encounter as fleeting or unhappy enough to leave him having an existential crisis in the bathroom in the next scene.

The character also seems preoccupied with human connection. If we are not watching the character looking desperately lonely, we are seeing scenes of the kind of human connection that is ubiquitous for young adults in clubs and bars: short-lived friendships, conversations, romantic encounters, dancing together, etc. The whole video alternates between loneliness and needing liquid courage to initiate human interaction, which is something very relatable for anyone on the shyer side or who experiences social anxiety. My interpretation is that the character is not so much afraid of losing the specific relationship with the love interest, but is simply unwilling to be alone in a crowd or at home with his thoughts again.

The final device I’ll touch on here is the use of camera techniques such as blurring out the background actors, the thermal camera, and extreme color-grading to anonymize the crowd in the way memories become blurry after excessive drinking. The way the entire album treats drinking culture is powerful, in my opinion, because despite the prevalence of social drinking, FACE takes a fairly negative tone regarding excessive alcohol consumption. Every time it looks fun, we get scenes of loneliness and depression contrasting that glorification of clubbing culture. Jimin clearly feels using alcohol as a crutch is a bad, unsustainable habit, and he was remarkably frank for a K-idol on how bad of an idea it is to remain on that path.

Jimin was fairly trepidatious about how the acting in this MV would turn out in the shoot sketch, but in my opinion, the combination of his personal acting style and the excellent editing and direction teams he clearly utilized made a beautiful piece of cinematography, that illustrates the central themes of the song perfectly.

Extra Observations

I was aware of Jimin’s tendency to use his head and neck to emphasize certain moves in dance choreographies, but he does the same constantly throughout this video. I initially started a tally for the amount of times his head rolls around, but quickly lost count. It’s so effective from a storytelling perspective, but as someone who also suffers from chronic pain I was wincing in sympathy, because if that many head rolls made it into the MV, how many additional takes of rolling his head were there?

Did he intentionally include a left shoulder liberation in both FACE MVs as a bone to throw to fans?

Did anyone else catch the two books on the table in Set 2? The white one appears to be “Beyond the West:New Global Architecture”, but the only thing I could read on the cover of the grey book is “Atlas”. I think they’re nods to the central conflict in the Like Crazy movie being visas, because I feel that choosing English-language books with coincidentally relevant titles takes a lot more effort than finding Korean books of the right color palette and size.

[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 Jimmy 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 mostly harmless and makes you feel happy, but considering how people outside of your hyperfixation-of-a-hyperfixation is a thing. Asking to care or think about others once in awhile is not an attack on you as a person, believe it or not. 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?

[riooooooooo]

INFO ABOUT MY BVZ OC JESSIE

(any art that isn't mine will be credited, if there is no tag or mention, then the art was made by me!)

Official character sheet! - @orbit805 TY POOKSTER RAHHHHHHHHH

(image on the right is text added by me, DW I'll retype it below)

Story Below

- Jessie grew up working in a circus with her twin sister, Marie. The place was pretty popular, but the circus put none of their funds towards the health of the loyal performers. They were abusive, but manipulated them into believing they weren't. When Jessie and Marie were around the age of 7, Marie caught a deadly disease due to the horrible conditions her and Jessie were forced to live in, sentencing her a life of bedridden misery for the little time she had left. Not long after Marie died was when Jessie realized the full extent of the abuse she and others were put through. She ran away, not looking back.

- In her process of making an escape, she was quickly discovered. The company would rather see her suffer gruesomely then let her escape the cycle of abuse they put her through. When she was found, both her arms and legs were shot off. All she remembers is passing out, and waking up in a small, quiet, cold room. When she strength had returned, she realized the modifications she had been given, new limbs. So, without questioning things too much, she did her best to get used to her new wonky limbs and stumbled around until she found an exit. She didn't have time to find whoever helped her.

- After that, she came across a junk yard, which she then made a home of her own there. There she discovered her love for tinkering and building. Along the way, she would meet two unexpected allies. A robot assassin, turned from foe to friend, and a humanoid droid, unwillingly to speak of himself, but very willing to aid her in anything she may ask.

Story End

Fun Facts!

- here's a not very fun and long fact: Why she needed her neck replaced isn't something I'll go into detail with. Not long after she met Marie and Ann. Some people (cough cough Mafia) weren't very happy with who she had with her, and in short, wanted to get rid of Jessie, so they would have no safe place any longer. Jessie was originally dead, but due to Karmor's power screwing up events, Jessie never died. According to Marie and Ann, a mysterious figure had approached them, and offered their help. They claimed to be a wizard from Manas, but that's all the details they gave. Not longer after that, Jessie had woken up, with a new neck, but very much alive

- She's made models for what a more humanoid version of Ann could look like, but even soon, Ann still refuses, they preferred to stick to their original form, no matter how restrictive, it's what they're used too.

- Jessie is a horrible cook. Thankfully she's the only human among her group, if she wasn't, the other two would be dead from food poisoning - because of this, Marie often brings back food for her after his jobs

- She likes to tease everybody, but sometimes she takes it a tad bit too far

- She's a very curious person, and will learn about anything or anyone that interests her

- She's a loud person, but will go quiet if you ask her about her past

- She's a fan of sweet-spicy foods (especially chicken)

- Her arms/legs could probably stretch all the way through Maya

- With how discreet she can be, sometimes she ends up seeming like a threat or foe to others, but really she's just curious. She has no ill will towards anybody, not even the ones who hurt her most

- She gets very giddy around people she looks up too

(cough cough @solzticesoulz Wildfire mentioned)

- A song I believe is fitting for her (voice wise and some of the lyrics)

BvZ Canon characters + OC interaction

- She's heard of Devlin's work, even bought a couple of his weapons one time, just to dissect them out of curiosity (and for a temporary replacement if Marie ever broke/lost a gun he used, which isn't likely)

- She's asked Marie and Ann to keep a look out for Karmor - she doesn't know anything about him, but she has a feeling about him that's making her curious

- She's probably never interacted with Albus. The only sorta way I could picture them meeting is if Albus teleported off to fuck who knows, ended up in the old junkyard Jessie used to call her home, and she just happened to be there at the same time

- She would only talk to Hipswitch for job purposes, since he doesn't particularly interest her. But if she wanted someone taken out, she would ask Marie to do it. She would probably only ask Hipswitch so she could get Ann to stalk him and Karmor to get more intell

- Mahatma and Atilla's situation does interest her. For the case of actual medical needs, that would probably never happen.

[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 &lt;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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[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.

[literary-illuminati]

2025 Book Review #3 – Fifteen Dogs by Andre Alexis

My mother recently retired and cleared out my childhood home, part of which involved throwing out a lot of books. So I have come into possession of a lot of weird literature no one remembers ever actually buying, which is honestly pretty exciting. This was one of them, a tragic bit of literary modern fantasy about the titular canines being uplifted to human intelligence and it ending in general quite badly for them. Not at all light reading, but interesting and very affecting at points.

The plot concerns a wager between Hermes and Apollo, regarding whether a human’s intelligence is a blessing or a curse. To settle the matter, they gift all the dogs that happen to have been left in a random Toronto vet clinic overnight the power of human thought, and bet two years of servitude to the other on whether any of them will die happy. With occasional divine interludes, the story mostly then follows the dogs – first as a pack, and then tracing each life separately with occasional unhappy reunions – from uplift to death.

This is an incredibly high concept sort of book – coming in expecting anything like traditional urban fantasy or contemporary litfic and you will be deeply confused. It is literature in a sense, I suppose – the prose itself isn’t particularly adorned or eye-catching, but it is very concerned with interiority and subjective experience, and in any case there are fifteen different poems scattered throughout the book. But far more than that, it’s philosophical fiction – which is to say, very explicitly theme-first and contemplative of the Big Idea its turning around, with the actual story being basically in service to that.

That big idea if ostensibly about whether intelligence and self-reflection are a blessing or a curse, but it’s at least as much about the degree to which its possible to live a happy life in a world full of misery and where nothing but luck keeps everything you love from being taken from you in an instant. Few of the dogs live happily – they kill each other, they make themselves miserable attempting to regain the thoughtless purity of their prior existence, they become entrapped in toxic hierarchies of status and dominance. And on the other they starve, they’re hit by cars, they eat poison, they’re abused and neglected by the humans they relied upon. It is a book with a very tragic sensibility, all in all – even the dogs with the good luck and character to find happiness always live at the risk of some divine fit of pique. In this the use of the Greek Gods as characters fit very well – Apollo taking one of the dog’s sight and hearing in annoyance with him seems entirely of a piece with how the myths often go.

As for solutions – the book’s later parts focus a great deal on two dogs who have, more or less, good lives. It is, on the whole, very positive about love (at least, a specific kind – affection devotion and most importantly understanding between equals) - but equally concerned with how ruinous losing someone whose thread of life is intertwined so tightly with yours can be. It clearly thinks there’s something a bit noble and sacred to living as a monument to grief, but equally doesn’t think doing so can really be called a good life. Instead – and this is almost too predictable, simply because it’s written by the kind of person who writes elaborate philosophical fiction – the book presents a life dedicated to poetry and art, thought and self-reflection, to beauty however fleeting it is to be the best suited to appreciating life in all its miseries. It is, as I said, quite philosophical about it.

The book also accidentally fulfills any Canadian Content obligations I had for the year. It’s a book set in and deeply in love with the geography and character of Toronto (if often a jaundiced and teasing sort of love). Honestly it talks about the city in a way I usually only see fiction discuss New York or parts of California.

As an exploration of actual canine psychology, it varies between interesting and tiresome. I rather wish any of the female dogs had survived longer or gotten more focus, just for a bit of variety on all the oft-offered opinions about mounting and heat. The fifteen poems included in the book all being the result of a project to write poetry that listening to would have an affect for humans and dogs is, at least, a very cute bit of trivia.

But yeah, interesting piece of fiction. Read if you like these sort of meditations and can take lots of unhappy and dead dogs in your stories.

[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

[nabi-unveiled]

Nabi Notices (May 7, 2025)

So I didn't make one of these last week. Between LFLS, Top Form, and Heesu, there had been too many tears in the previous week. I was a bit drained...and out of time to write.

But this week has been all about the plushies and happy things. So many spots of joy. Thanks to everyone who sent a message to my inbox or a DM over the past week. I've appreciated every single one of them. It's like sharing a meal. I put HIGH value on it.

The Things I Noticed This Week (and last):

I watched a good number of shows in the past two weeks. This included currently airing shows and a few older shows I binged. I rewatched My Stubborn way too many times, but I've never been one to deny myself something that brings me joy. Hold back if you want. As long as it's legal, safe, and doesn't hurt anyone, I'm going to indulge.

Fabulous Fit

I love mixed denims so I really like Jun's pants during My Stubborn. Add in that his shirt said "smile" while his bestie's said "Life Sucks". Mixed up pants and mixed messages. It feels appropriate for this show.

Fascinating Find

During the emoji tag game, it became apparent that I hadn't finished I Feel You Linger in the Air. Turns out I had only watched the first episode. So I binged it this weekend, and yeah -> I needed that in my life. It's very much stuck in my brain at this point. In the best possible way.

But it sent me on a deep dive about frangipanis (plumeria). I love flowers and flower symbolism, but I didn't know much about that particular one. Jom tells us that the name means misery in Thai. Yai says it's a gentle scent that's liberating and enchanting and smells like Jom.

But if you explore the meanings of plumeria in various cultures, one of the meanings is "love long in absence" and that feels like a beautiful symbol for this couple.

Fantastic Frame

I loved this shot in the extra of Secrets Happened on the Litchi Island.

Between the strawberries, the book, and the parallel positioning with the resting angel, it's like a little picture of heaven. At some point in my life, I'll make a list of all of the shows that reference The Little Prince.

Fun Flourish

Side note: I just realized I had misspelled "flourish" in previous weeks. This is why I love my copyeditor at work. They catch all of my mistakes, and they are always nice about it.

It seems odd to say a memorial service was my fun flourish, but I enjoyed how the service for Way in Pit Babe 2 was held in the garage and that the car served as the altar. It felt true to this crew.

Although my mind did keep wondering how difficult it was to light those candles and keep them in the right position for filming. I also wondered how many candles they actually needed since the wax would melt as they did their takes.

Favorite Fragment

Watching Business as Usual is a case study in me overthinking things. I constantly find myself looking for deeper meaning in the dialogue when it really isn't that deep. It feels to me like a show that should have layers, but...it doesn't. Not really. However, I really enjoy watching it and thinking about the characters.

I loved the mutual exchange of "I'm mad at you", but this particular line was my favorite this past week. Because we all need to give ourselves a pep talk from time to time. And it was a great example of how Min Jun has grown (hopefully) and how our leads are finally meeting each other in terms of communication. The preview didn't look promising, but I'm hoping the finale doesn't revert to more miscommunication or give us noble idiocy.

My Queue for the Coming Week:

Where will the wheel spin this week? Who knows? I certainly don't. These are the few things that I'm confident I'll watch.

The Next Prince (Ep 1)

Something's Not Right (Finale) 😤. I hold no hope.

Business as Usual (Finale). 🙏 I hold moderate hope.

Top Form (Ep 9)

My Stubborn (Ep 4). Can it be Sunday now? Please.

Love for Love's Sake (Ep 5)

There will definitely be more. I'll probably start Moonlight Chicken since it won the poll.

[mk-wizard]

What Sailor Moon Taught Me About Femininity and it's Importance to Feminism

Since I did one of Elita-One, I decided to also do one of another influential female heroine who helped me get through high school and revisiting her in university helped me find myself again. The queen of all magical girls in my opinion: Sailor Moon. Specifically, the 80s anime version which is the best one.

As stated in my last post, in my very late teenage years, I went through a dark period where I began to resent my own womanhood, convinced myself that pink was dumb and gave in to the propaganda that it was all Barbie's fault that I had a weight problem and that she was problematic. Elita-One broke the trance I was in and gave me the kick in the pants (or skirt rather) to learn to love myself again as a woman, but revisiting Sailor Moon helped me decide what kind of woman I wanted to be.

For context, Sailor Moon and the other four Mercury, Mars, Jupiter and Venus are and at the same time not what you would expect in a team full of girls. Sure they are diverse in that one is the awkward girl, one is the dreamer, one is the strong yet gentle one, one is the forward one and one was the nerd, but here's the thing... ALL of them are feminine, dress cute and are open to meeting a great guy. On top of that, Sailor Moon herself is the main character and SHE is the awkward girl, she is very flawed, had growing up to do and makes bad decisions yet she is STILL a good role model for girls.

Sailor Moon the characters shows girls that you don't need to be perfect to be a good person or even a successful person. It's ok to have flaws, to have feelings, to be afraid in dangerous in situations and even ask for help as long as you keep going, improve and learn from your mistakes. And I have to give credit where credit is due, Sailor Moon does mature over the course of the series, she tries new things and even becomes good at cooking which is something that meant a lot to her. Moreover, the series Sailor Moon showed that all of the cast had flaws they needed to work on and quirks. Like Elita-One, these girls were not man haters and even called out the toxicity in that mentality, they were deep, had backstories and most importantly, they were happy and loved themselves as they were and loved each other as sisters. There were no misery chicks, no cattiness and no frenemies. Sure, at times Moon and Mars would bicker, but that was just more out of friendly rivalry.

In short, Sailor Moon taught me that femininity is nuanced and expresses itself in different ways. It's not a hive mind where everyone is the same. You can be girly, happy, fun and cute, AND do you. Moreover, femininity has a way of bringing women together and uniting them as a team rather than pitting them against each other. And that is one of the core values of feminism which is that women should support other women even when they are different from each other.

In today's day and age especially, we need to recall the wisdom of Sailor Moon in how none of the girls expect each other to be the same or even have the same goals, and unconditionally support each other. And a lot of it is due to their femininity and the common ground they have thanks to it.

Bottom line is that Sailor Moon taught me that femininity is love which extends to the sense of sisterhood we take for granted in our fellow woman. She stands as a reminder that we are a team and while each of us can do it on our own, we can do it even better together. After all, working together is how we got equal pay, two income homes and the right to vote. Imagine what else we can do if we put aside our differences and worked together?

Also, you don't have to be perfect to be great. In fact, you don't have to be the best at everything. You don't have to be the smartest, prettiest or the most popular girl in the room just as long as you are doing your best, you're getting better and most importantly, you love yourself the way you are.

We girls can make it together, be great together and be beautiful together.

@blade-liger-4ever @vitamaeternum @guardiandua @chaoticcreatorgardendean @sassycandypoetry @iloveyoulinpeckettcomic

[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.

[taintedsoul-if]

Finally got a break from college break by ass to read the new version and I gotta say I do love it not to say the original demo wasn't great but this one opened the world much more. I love the differences from my mc Esmeralda and OH thinking the original was a pathetic bunny but still feeling some compassion for her, I like to think since I chose a more tired and over everything mc so thought that more to shame her naive self when she wanted her abusive mother's love when all she got was nothing.

I also loved mc admitting and recognizing to having more good people around them so technically while their life sucked it better than the OH life which just makes the soft core and deep revenge route so much sweeter especially when mc was happy that OH would get a better chance of new future.

What else did I liked? I enjoy the small scene with the doctor who originally was just kinda there now actually got more character even if it was brief to show how scummy mc's life was. (Granted my mc never slept with him as she was waiting for Cad— I mean her one true love *wink wink* *nudge nudge* but it still fucked up even if I could be worse)

I guess you can guess I decided to go the full revenge route. I originally went soft core when the first original demon came out with this revised revision I think to me it makes sense to go full scourge earth for my specific mc as she just nicely put a bow at her story of pain and misery only to get transported to a worse timeline. I think added to finding out the OH story and seeing her new dad and emperor? Just straight up making a funeral without being doubly sure mc was dead and just such a quick way to hide evidence of their bad deeds.

My Esmeralda was ok let's destroy this place with a smile. One thing to note I did see a gender error in the scene where mc just got transferred into the new world and is trying to figure out what is going on. I think when it's describing OH it said boy instead of girl as I choose girl for my mc gender. I could go back to play that scene and send a pic if you can't find it, to me it wasn't a big deal as the rest of the scene describes my mc as a girl but since you're doing the second chapter I figure you want to know.

Another thing, you did ask if I bowed to the emperor the answer is 😊 Nope~ just used his words against him and continued being an unapologetic nuisance. Like I'm sure she's straddling the line of someone wanting to murder her out right because she's not even attempting to hide her hatred. I also don't see my mc Esmeralda as a heroine, to me she's always been a villain just right now not as bad as emperor and royal trashcan, thot half little sister, useless gold-digging father and bimbo mother-in-law. At best she's an antihero as she does care for who she deems as her Friends and Family like that example you gave that OH got her best friend killed by telling talking trashcan that not something my mc would've ever done even if she were desperate but she isn't coming out smelling like a fair roses.

The woman got standards on who is usable pawn and who isn't (note: this isn't saying my mc wouldn't use N to her advantage, she of course would but she wouldn't cross the line of getting him killed unless he backstabbed her or it was fake plot that she made with N in mind like she knew specifically how N would act in that situation that wouldn't get him dead but more to her side.)

Lastly, I choose not to hold MC's mom's hand when she is trying to save her. I know in the original demo mc's mom also got dragged into the new world because she didn't let go so forgive me if spoiling but does she still got transferred into the new world just without mc knowing or since she didn't fall in because the doctor pulled her back does that mean for my specific choice she's not here? (Ps: I know it wasn't asked but yes I'm doing the poly route so be assured my Mc's bad murder tendencies are surrounded by like minded individuals.)

I won’t lie—this ask of yours has been sitting in my inbox because I keep rereading it and giggling like a new kid who just transferred schools and fell in love at first sight with the school delinquent. I’m unapologetic about it too. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve gone back to read your ask 😌.

The first draft of my writing… I’ve gotta admit, it was chaotic. I wrote, but I didn’t dare read it back because at the time, I had a deep-seated fear of even glimpsing what I’d written. But now? My skin’s a lot thicker. I’ll read my work out loud and shamelessly compliment myself (just to keep the motivation alive! Sometimes I slack off—I get distracted easily).

The weirdest thing happened with Doctor Simon Character. When I picked this IF back up in February and was trying to remember my characters, I came across him in something I’d written and thought, “This person serves no real purpose to the plot—maybe I should just cut him.” But then my brain started turning. I’ve done character updates for Ada, Caitlyn, Neosho… why not give Doctor Simon a few more pages, maybe even a backstory? And honestly? I loved crafting that little bit of lore and giving them a moment of screentime.

Also, I totally guessed that you—and most of my readers—would go down that path. I mean, who wouldn’t? Even “good life” players won’t be able to escape the web of schemes and conspiracies I’ve got planned. And something I’ve implemented that I think you’ll like is this: personality stats won’t always be based on the choices you make. Like, you know when you go to a store to restock your kitchen, and suddenly there’s a swarm of people? That’s the kind of unexpected scene I’m going for. Actually… I should show you an example scene. Hold on—I’ll drop it below!

I can't circle it, but the last line just randomly adds a point to one of the personality stats.

If you had slept with them, your MC would get to choose who the OH lost their virginity to—N, S, or T. A isn’t included because A would absolutely be aware that the soul in the body doesn’t belong to the MC. So the fourth option would probably be some random stranger on the road. Even though it wasn’t your soul in the body at the time, C would probably still die of jealousy—he’d likely scour the whole of Vathilia to hunt that person down.

Yes, I got an ask about that!

I’ve fixed the error, but honestly, since that’s the only issue, I haven’t pushed an update yet. I’m really trying to see if I can finish the Welcoming Ceremony and get it published as soon as possible. I won’t give a date though—too many branches! @virsia Thanks for pointing out exactly where you saw the error! 😆

Yeah, that was definitely a shitty stunt the OH pulled. And bear in mind that N’s secret is already in T’s hands. But once again, that was just an assumption. Remember, OH’s memories were sealed. When you’re on the brink of death, desperation and greed for life take over, and I think OH was having a moment like that. Because of this, N's resentment points are going to jump from 40 to 100.

Caitlyn will follow your MC to the ends of the earth—forever and always. Taking her with you gives her a noble background. Not taking her? That locks her into a lowborn status, which means Caitlyn will literally be right beneath your MC’s fingertips. This isn’t really spoiler territory… so I can share that much.

And of course they are. Imagine sitting in a room with both men casually sharpening their knives like they’re prepping for a dinner party—but the guest list for the evening is the entire Montholon family.

As for Cadmus, he’s never liked Artilius. Mhmm. Let’s just say Cadmus’s lineage is tied to Prince Zetian Artilius’s great-grandfather… Yeah. Cadmus is ancient. But then again, so is the MC 💀.

Let’s wrap up now—thank you so much for not only pointing out the error, but also for sharing what you thoroughly enjoyed in this update. I really look forward to more of your feedback as we move through the story, lol. I’ll let you go now—have a good one, and I hope happy things find you forever! 🫂