#BUT ALSO HER CURRENT INTERIORITY MAKING NO SENSE?

[fellhellion]

I gotta be honest chief the writing for Dana so far is just kind of. bad. She keeps hitting wildly different emotional stances from her previous ones and not only does the writing not bother to give her the journey between point A and B, but it just sucks me out of getting invested in a character that DOES have interesting relationships with the cast.

Why does Dana kissing Gabriel while still being engaged to Miguel not effect how she approaches her fiancé or Gabe his brother OR how they understand each other GIVEN THAT THEY ALSO USED TO DATE? What about Gabriel and current gf Kasey?? Fuck me idk!

Why does none of that history affect how Dana approaches her interactions with people like Conchata???? Who knows!

Why does she pick Stone - who openly admitted to drugging her fiancé in an attempt to coerce him to remaining at the company - as the person to needle Miguel about not spending enough time with her????

We don’t have much of an understanding of her character outside of these relationships but even then, what’s there just feels so confused and poorly written.

90s comics INKNOW you can write women this is driving me insane

[jo-com]

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚ ➛ A way to a dog lover’s heart

Lando Norris x Fem!reader

Summary: Despite his personal problem with dogs; Lando took it upon himself to study more about dogs and how to win their favor so that he can win yours.

Genre: Fluff, wholesome moments, Dog lover reader (Let’s pretend that Lando dislikes dogs)

Note: there are some grammatical errors and that this is not proofread, hope you enjoy tho!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

─────── ─ ⋆🍨｡𖦹 °✩ ─ ───────

Ever since his childhood days, Lando had some personal issues with dogs— it was an unpleasant memory that he wishes to forget. For him it was a gruesome event that marked his fear of dogs forever. It made him scared to the point that being approached by them make his instincts act up and run away.

The so called ‘gruesome event’ he was talking about was, Lando getting bit in the ass by a small dog. So terrifying.

People find it funny, hilarious even, but for him it was an “Traumatic experience.” Well so he says.

He vowed to never touch an inch of them, but upon finding out that you were a dog enthusiast— even his fear of dog won’t get in the way of winning your heart.

…

“I am so happy that you also like dogs, it’s hard to meet people that are inlove with them, like i am”

Lando let out a lengthy cough, “yeah uhm i love dogs so much its crazy.”

Your face lit up at his words, feeling your heart content with the same love you guys shared for dogs. Never have you ever met someone like him, he is so different.

“Sooo, would you like to visit me sometimes? I’d love for you to meet my babies.”

Lando licked and puckered his lips, releasing it with a pop— his demeanor shifted into a uncertain one. You could sense hesitancy from the way he moved.

You then picked up on his action and your once smiling lips were now pulling into a frown. Does he not want to meet them? Or does he not want to be bothered by going?

His eyes flickered back to your almost pouting face. The look in your eyes clearly screams, ‘slowly loosing interest’, he became wary of your expression and quickly lightened the mood by blurting out his response.

“YES, I would love to meet them” he slightly yelled, his voice even cracking a little.

You giggled at his anxious face, “sure, it’s another date then.”

Lando sighed contentedly, seeing your face warm up to him once again. His pupils dilated into a heart shaped as he stared more at your breathtaking appearance— if that’s even possible? Nonetheless lando was both stoked and afraid at the same time. But it’ll all be worth it when he makes you his.

…

Lando’s heart skipped a beat as he contemplated whether or not to ring your doorbell; he has been standing there for like 30 minutes now and was so scared at the thought of being pounced by your hell hound. Only staring at your front door and doing nothing.

“Lando? What are you doing just standing there?” You asked, your eyes narrowed at his standing figure.

With your sudden voice, he was quick to go back to his senses and compose himself in front of you.

“Oh uhm… you see.. ah i was just taking in this beautiful house of yours.” Lando answered, showing some of his teeth with an awkward smile.

You looked at him skeptically but soon shrugged it off and gestured for him to come inside, to which he happily obliged.

His chest began to shake once again, waiting for your dog to come at him and do the same thing the dog from his childhood had done.

He stiffly walked towards your living room. Taking in the interior and design that you’ve come to a liking. Mentally noting the things you’d love and prefer.

He was then interrupted when he saw the biggest golden retriever that he had ever seen run across the other room to where Lando was now currently standing. His eyes widened at it’s sudden appearance— his whole body shaking in fear at it’s sight.

Once you saw your dog, you were quick to run towards her and ruffle it’s fur; feeling her tender fur rub against your palms, “Hi my baby, did you miss me? God you’re so adorable like always, yes you are” you spoke in a childish manner while kissing her nuzzle.

Lando stood awkwardly at the side. He gulp down the saliva that was forming inside his mouth. He didn’t know what to do at this point, he was scared shitless at your dog.

You stopped what you were doing and momentarily glared back at lando, “come meet my baby, isn’t she so cute?”

He bit down his lower lip— sighing heavily to muster up his strength and atleast show that he’s interested. Even if it was forced.

Lando then lowered himself and took a knee by your side. He was now face to face with the so called beast and was clearly rethinking the whole situation he’s in.

“Come on now, pet her she doesn’t bite, trust me.”

He nodded slightly, “yeah..she’s just a little ball of…cuteness?” With shaking hands, he finally laid his hand in her head— stroking them stiffly as his fear still resides in his mind.

His heart pounded inside his chest when your dog swiftly licked his hand. “Ohh i think she likes you.”

The sweat that formed in his forehead were now crashing down his face— what has he gotten himself into?

…

“I am not ready tho, will it be okay for you to wait?” You asked, your tone laced with sweetness.

Lando nodded his head, “Yeah, it’s okay. I mean i can walk your dog while you finish up.”

Your whole demeanor lit up as he uttered those words— feeling a sense of closeness forming around you two. You were speechless at his suggestion; not one single guy you’ve ever dated asked you that. Ever!

Meanwhile..

On the outside Lando looked cool as hell when he said that but on the inside well… he was shaking in fear, he didn’t even know why he said that. Why would he? When he’s scared of them. Even touching them triggers his anxiety. But if it’s for you..

“Yeah sure, if it’s alright with you to spend time with her?”

He shrugged, “what do you mean? I love dogs!”

…

“I FUCKING HATE DOGS” Lando screamed— his whole body shaking and numb from running.

You see, when lando took her out it was all going great…. not until two dogs showed up and started chasing them.

His breathing became uneven while the two dogs kept following them and barking out loud, not louder than Lando’s screaming voice though.

Even the whole neighborhood could hear him and looking at him with pure judgment. Whispering amongst themselves and enjoying the free entertainment that lando had put out.

…

“So how was the run?”

“Uh it was amazing, she was…great, nothing happened at all it was so peaceful” Lando spoke, his voice trembled from being out of breath earlier.

You then grabbed her leash and escorted the two inside— taking it off her sooner as she stepped in your floorboards.

A smile formed in your lips, seeing your dog run with glee and then back at The driver in front of you, “thank you, really. I hope she wasn’t a bother.”

Lando stared blankly at you, his mind wandering at the events that happened earlier. “Like i said, she was amazing, i hope to do it again next time!.”

Like hell he will.

…

I am back y’all😜

[jellybonbons]

Sharing is Caring

ೀ dog hybrid!Leon Kennedy + cat hybrid!Ada Wong

Tags: gn!reader but fem!reader for the nsfw part, 18+ (mdni), pet/owner dynamic, threesome, neck biting, blood, mommy kink, nicknames (mommy, pretty girl/owner, beautiful), cunnilingus, fingering, mentions of sex toys, masturbation (m receiving), sub!reader, dom!Leon, dom!Ada, fluff ending.

W/C: 2.3k

A/N: idk why I wrote this, I've never written a threesome and hybrids so this was a struggle to finish. Huge thanks to @roseglazedlens for proofreading this <33 wouldn’t have done this without you!

You had been feeling lonely lately, and with that, you decided to adopt a hybrid to brighten your days or spice up your life—as per your best friend, since they were the ones who suggested you get one. After saving up for some time, you headed to the pet store, where you met your now-current pet, Ada Wong. Her hair is as smooth as silk, and her ears are adorned with adorable fluffiness that captures your heart in an instant.

cat hybrid!Ada had no problems making herself comfortable at your home since she can adapt to her surroundings easily.

Even though you bought her a bed, she claimed yours as hers, but you’re not complaining if it means that you can cuddle with her every night.

She’s a very independent cat who doesn’t need that much attention.

However, if you’ve been busy the whole day and barely paid her any attention, you can bet you’ll get a scratch or two from her (typical black cat behaviour). It’s also her way of marking you as hers.

She enjoys lounging in the same room as you. If you're working in your office, you’ll find her on the couch nearby, peacefully napping. Just your presence alone brings her a sense of peace and contentment.

If you’re scared of any insects, don’t worry; she’ll kill them for you in a heartbeat.

“Ada! There’s a spider in the bathroom!” “On it.”

She loves getting spoiled by you, whether it be affection, cuddles, or something materialistic. Her favourite gift from you is the red ribbon collar with pearls; she wears it proudly around her neck.

For a while, it had been just you and Ada, sharing your home in quiet companionship. Then, one day, as you returned from work, you stumbled upon dog hybrid!Leon, a forlorn figure, battered and shivering on the streets. You couldn't help but feel a deep sense of pity as you came across him, so you decided to bring him home. Getting him to come with you was a challenge, but with the promise of a warm bath and a meal, he eventually agreed.

He was sceptical of your home at first compared to Ada, but as he stepped into your house, the smell of your floral candles and the comforting atmosphere enveloped him. The warm and inviting interior, with cosy lighting and subtle traces of both your and Ada’s personal touches, gradually lowered his guard.

While you were preparing a warm bath for him, Ada finally met Leon. When she caught a foreign scent mingling with yours, she became alert. Upon entering the living room and locking eyes with him, her gaze bore into him with a piercing intensity that felt like she was shooting daggers. Leon couldn’t help but notice her intense glare fixed on him, and he shifted uncomfortably, feeling the tension in the room. Thankfully, you called out for him, and he sprinted to the direction of your voice faster than he ever had before.

dog hybrid!Leon took his time to settle in and get comfortable around you and Ada.

Eventually, he puts his walls down after seeing how you treat Ada with care and gentleness. He’s also lowkey jealous at how you’re spoiling her too much; cue for her to give him a smug smirk.

Surprisingly, he’s very playful and would tug on your shirt every morning for his morning walk or activities in the park, which annoys Ada so much since he’s disturbing her morning cuddles with you.

He's a quiet one who doesn't use words to express his feelings, but his body language says it all. When you praise him, his face is stoic, but you can see his tail wagging enthusiastically.

“Good boy, Leon!” “Hmm.”

Unlike Ada, who marks you with her claws, Leon rubs his scent all over your clothes. He wants the other hybrids to stay away from you every time you leave the house. Dealing with one—Ada—was enough for him.

Other than that, he made sure to hug you tightly and lick your neck before you headed off to work; it’s a daily ritual that you cannot miss.

He’s the definition of scary dog privilege; he’ll give a menacing glare to anyone he considers a threat. He’s all bite, no bark; if he sees someone making you uncomfortable, he’ll quickly step in to protect you.

After a few months of living and tolerating each other, they eventually find common ground in their share desire to cherish and protect you. Now that speaks double trouble. You were peacefully engrossed in a book when suddenly, a commotion erupts from the living room. Annoyed by the disturbance of your precious reading time, you reluctantly set your book aside and make your way to the room to investigate.

“Now, what’s all this commotion about?” You cross your arms tightly over your chest, brows furrow in frustration. You tap your foot impatiently and let out an exasperated sigh as you stare at them. It is a sight to behold, Ada is tugging on Leon’s tail while he playfully pinches her cat ears in a mock battle.

“Are you guys fighting over your toys again? I thought I told both of you to share.” Both share a knowing glance, their eyes meeting in a silent exchange that speaks volumes. “...why are you guys looking at each other like that?”

NSFW:

One thing leads to another, and now you find yourself at the centre of your recently upgraded king-sized bed. Leon and Ada deftly position you between them, her soft and plump breast snugly meeting yours, while his firm and chiselled chest envelops you from behind, radiating warmth and desire. 

“What are you guys doing?” You ask, your voice tinged with scepticism, yet you can’t deny the trace of attraction as well.

“Sharing.” Ada purrs; her tail puffs up in excitement as she licks your face. 

Leon roams his hands over your body in a soft yet possessive manner. “That’s right, we have to show our mommy that we know how to share.” He leans down, sinking his sharp canine teeth into the side of your neck, causing a trickle of blood flow.

“W–wait! But this is wrong!” You moan as you attempt to step away from being sandwiched between them; however, Leon has other plans. Instead of releasing you, he pulls you even closer. His possessive embrace and Ada’s fixed gaze cause your cheeks to flush with embarrassment.

You always find them attractive, but this feels so foreign to you—they are literally your pets!

“Hmm? It’s totally normal for the pet and its owner to engage in this kind of activity, pretty girl.” Ada’s hands trail lower, reaching the waistband of your pants, and she swiftly removes them, leaving you in your underwear—burgundy with black lace. “Oh! And you’re wearing my favourite one.” Ada’s ears raise, and her tongue darts out to moisten her lips as her eyes hungrily fix on the way the fabric hugs your cunt.

As anticipation courses through your veins, your body shivers involuntarily. “Relax, mommy, let us take care of you,” Leon murmurs against your skin. He finds the hem of your shirt and pulls it off you, exposing your breast to the cool air. “No bra? God, you’re such a tease.” Leon growls as he pinches your hardened nipple. 

“Of course, I have to hold back from pouncing her every time she struts around the house like that." Ada leans down, capturing one of your hardened nipples in her mouth, her teeth grazing against the sensitive flesh as she sucks and nibbles on it.

You let out a whine from the sensation, and your head tilts backwards, resting it on Leon’s shoulder. With a swift motion, Ada positions herself between your legs, and her gaze meets yours with lust. “Can I taste you, beautiful?” Your cheeks have a hint of nervousness as you nod your head in agreement.

Without wasting any more time, Ada goes down on you, pulling your underwear to the side, her mouth finds its way to your most sensitive part. She starts to tease, kitten licking, her tongue laying flat between your folds, slurping and sucking on your clit as she savours the taste of your desire, the velvety texture of her tongue heightening your desires.

As your moans grow louder and more desperate, she increases the intensity. Meanwhile, Leon’s rough hands find their way to your breasts again, kneading and pinching them. You can feel his bulge growing behind your ass as he humps against it, his tail wagging behind him excitedly.

The sensation overwhelms you, with pleasure coursing through your veins as both of them continue their assault on you. Your back arches as Ada finds your sweet spot; her claws grip tightly on your thighs, leaving marks on them but not enough to hurt you. 

“Ada! Ada!” You grasp her cat ear tightly with one hand while the other one claws at Leon’s forearm. Your grip on her ear makes her grunt onto your cunt, sending vibrations to it.

“That’s it, mommy; surrender yourself to her.” Leon coos in response, his fingers tucking your hair away from your face and revealing your blissed-out eyes.

With each flick of her tongue and each thrust of her fingers, Ada drives you closer to the edge. Leon senses your impending release, and he brings his middle and index fingers to your lips. “Suck on it.” 

You nod your head and suck on his fingers eagerly. The sensation of your tongue swirling around them and the tantalising, moist sounds emanating from you and Ada causes a bead of saliva to form at the corner of his mouth while his cock strains against his boxers. Lifting you off his lap with one hand, he hastily pulls down his sweatpants and boxers, freeing his cock from its confines. 

That momentarily catches Ada off guard, but she continues to pleasure you with her tongue and fingers, determined to bring you to the peak of pleasure. The closer you get to your release, the tighter your hold was on her dark locks. She hisses in pain against your cunt, Leon notices her discomfort and gently loosens your grip on her hair. “Easy, pretty owner, not too much.”

Your apology is muffled by Leon’s fingers, and you extend your hand, offering a gentle caress to her ears as a silent apology. “It’s okay, beautiful." She breathes against your thigh and gives it a light peck, her voice filled with gentleness. “Just give in to it and come for us.” 

You struggle to stifle yet another moan that threatens to escape. Leon withdraws his fingers from your mouth, leaving behind a glistening trail of saliva that connects both your lips and his fingers. “Don’t be shy now, mommy.” He firmly cups your face with his other hand, his fingers exerting a strong grip. “You think we don’t hear you late at night when you play with your toys?” He let out a growl, and his touch suddenly becomes less gentle but rather commanding—clearly jealous of them. 

Fuck.

You are becoming increasingly overstimulated, and his jealousy ignites an intense arousal within you. Ada’s skillful touch and her tongue send shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. Your back arches in response to the pleasure as you squeeze her head with your thighs, a subtle but unmistakable expression that you are closer to your climax.

His hand, still slick with your saliva, strokes his own cock while the other explores your breast with an insistent touch, evoking a deep, primal moan of pleasure from deep within him. Ada’s tail curls with anticipation as you rock your hips towards her face, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable. With an intense release, you climax, your moans echoing in the room. She eagerly laps up your juices and skillfully uses her fingers to prolong your pleasure, ensuring your satisfaction.

“Oh, god,” he gasps as he hears your moan, stealing a glance at Ada’s face, glistening with your arousal. The sight is enough to push him over the edge, and he climaxes right then and there. His cum coats your back, and some stray droplets find their way into your hair. 

As the intense waves of pleasure subside, your heavy breathing begins to slow, and you collapse onto the soft, inviting mattress, your limbs heavy and your eyelids drooping. From the corner of your eyes, you can see Ada meticulously grooming herself with her tongue, savouring your taste, while Leon kicks off his sweatpants from his ankle, ready to cuddle with you. He doesn’t even bother to clean you up, wanting his cum to stick to you.

“So, did I do a great job of sharing?” Ada nuzzles closer to you; her body forms a beautiful crescent, fitting perfectly against your side. “Yeah, you both did,” you chuckle, and you gently stroke her hair. “But did you come?” concern etches itself onto your face.

“You don’t have to worry about me, beautiful. Unlike a certain pup, I take care of my owner’s pleasure before my own.” Ada’s eyes narrow at Leon in disapproval, and her ears flatten against her head.

Leon huffs dismissively, rolling his eyes, and then snuggles closer to you. His tail gently drapes over your stomach, and he snuggles into your neck, seeking comfort and closeness. That just flares up her irritation. Before she can unleash her claws on him, you intervene by encircling your other arm around her, gently pulling her closer. “Okay, less fighting, more cuddling,” you propose with a smile.

Both nod in agreement, and as Ada nestles her head on your arm, a contented purr escapes her while her previous anger slowly dissipates. Whereas Leon, embracing a playful mood, makes an attempt to monopolise your attention. He entwines his legs with yours, draping an arm over your chest and casting a smug smirk in Ada's direction, his tail tapping lightly on your torso—a sweet revenge for all the times she'd stolen your attention from him. Ada's response is swift as she hisses at Leon and extends her claws in a challenge.

You release an exhausted sigh and massage your temples. It looks like it's going to be a long night—have fun having two pets who are fiercely horny loyal and protective of you.

[brain-rot-central]

Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal, Ch. 4

A/N: Confrontation time. Here we go, y'all. I'm tagging this as borderline non-con for the ending. It steps into some murky territory that some may feel uncomfortable with. But hey, we're dealing with AA, after all. I'll also be linking a post reference within the text here; please click the link when you see it! It'll help you visualize a certain part. 🌝 Thank you all for the support thus far! I hope you enjoy reading ❤️

Rating: Explicit Word count: 7.7k Pairing: Ascended Astarion x Female Tav (named) Warnings: 18+, non-con (somewhat; literally touches the border of it), absolutely dubcon, mentions of pregnancy, mention of virginity loss, loss of innocence, manipulative behaviors, toxic relationship, discussions of death and murder, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, PiV sex, PiV sex while pregnant, blood drinking, mother-fuckin' vampire sex boiiiiiiiiii (sorry these tags are way too serious and I am not)

Summary: Tav arrives at the Crimson Palace, poised for a confrontation with Astarion. A delicate dance ensues.

♥ Previous Chapter ♥ Link to Ao3

It takes a moment for her eyes to adjust as she enters, but once they do, the sight before her nearly robs her of all speech and reason.

Illuminated by candelabras, Tav gasps in awe at the renovations to the interior of the manor. The once drab and outdated decor has been ripped out, heart and soul, and replaced with… white. So much white.

White walls, white marble flooring with golden accents, tall white marble columns. A generous crystal chandelier hangs from the ceiling, Tav looking up. Her vision comes down to settle on the plush red carpet lining the foyer, stretching through the hall and into the ballroom. The reflection of the candlelight shimmers along the marble floors. A sunset on the water… Tav notes offhandedly to herself. 

A commemoration to their moment of triumph over the Absolute.

They all stood atop the dock watching the sun set over the horizon, sunlight glinting off the sea. The moment the tadpole vanished, Astarion became free. Truly and completely free. 

A life regained, a future unwritten. 

Reborn anew.

As she continues to drink in the new additions to the palace, Tav sees a figure approach from the corner of her eye. She turns her head to observe an older human woman making her way down the carpet, a smile set upon her slightly wrinkled face.

“Good evening, young miss,” the woman greets with a short bow. “Have you come to ask for an audience with Lord Ancunín?”

Tav remains silent for a moment as she quickly gives the woman a glance over. Gray hair with a time-worn face, albeit one that still shows the beauty she once beheld. She wears a simple long black dress with long sleeves, a white apron tied around her waist. Her shoes are black with a big metal buckle adorning the top of each. “I beg pardon for my current appearance,” the woman offers, giving the apron a quick pat down. “It isn’t often we have visitors this time in the evening.”

“No…” Tav begins, voice trailing off as she regroups her thoughts. “Not an audience, no. I’m…” Her chest thumps as she ponders their relationship. “...A friend of Astarion's. Is he home?”

“The young Master is in, yes; though I'm afraid he's currently occupied.” As if sensing Tav’s disappointment, the woman questions, “May I ask who you are?”

Tav nods her head respectfully. “I'm Tav.” The woman quirks a questioning brow. “Tavaria,” she adds quickly. “I was a traveling companion to Astarion over a year ago.” 

And much more…

A spark shoots across the woman's vision and Tav recoils backward, readying herself. 

“Ah!” the woman exclaims joyfully, “Lady Tavaria!” The woman bows earnestly. “Lord Ancunín extends his warmest greetings to you. Welcome to the Crimson Palace.”

With a smile, Tav softens her stance. She bows in return. “Thank you. It's… definitely different than before,” she comments while looking around the room.

“Ah, yes,” the woman agrees, “Master Astarion has renovated the manor to his distinct liking after the untimely passing of its prior occupant.”

“I see,” Tav states with a laugh. “This is all… very Astarion.” Elegant and refined.

All for show. 

Continuing her observation of the room, a painting hanging on the middle wall catches Tav's eyes. She walks toward the painting, stopping just in front of it.

It's a black and white piece, looking to have been drawn in charcoal, depicting a man and woman sharing an intimate embrace. Both are naked, the woman's face obscured by her pose as she bows her back while offering her throat to the man. His head rests within her neck, his long black hair flowing down his back. The accompanying piece focuses solely on the man. The lustful look demonstrated in the man's half-lidded eyes as he looks up from the woman's throat has Tav shaking where she stands. 

She's seen that look before. Not unlike how Astarion has looked at her.

The servant woman smiles, still standing in the same spot, clasping her hands together. “You must be exhausted, dearie,” she says, cutting through the silence. “Shall I direct you to your chambers?”

Tav blinks rapidly and turns her head to the woman. “I’m sorry, but did you say ‘my chambers?’” She shakes her head with a short laugh. “I don't live here.”

“But of course, my lady,” offers the servant. “Master Astarion has asked that we offer it as an option should you ever visit the manor.” She nods her head with another beatific smile. “There is no obligation. It is simply a kind gesture.” She bows, courteously, “My apologies for any offense I may have given, Lady Tavaria.”

Tav nods briefly, turning away from the woman as her mind races. He made me a bloody bedroom? She lifts her head and once again finds the picture on the wall. A chill travels up her neck as she locks eyes with the intense gaze of the man in the painting. Her breath hitches.

“Do you know when Astarion will be available?” Tav asks hurriedly, looking toward the woman.

The servant shakes her head. “I'm afraid I do not, though I can set you up in the study while you wait?” Smiling again, the woman walks across the room to a set of double doors on the far right. She opens them wide and gestures to Tav, welcoming her to enter.

Clutching her satchel, Tav walks through the threshold and into the office. It's rather standard when compared to the rest of the manor; dark green carpeting and wood panel walls. Multiple bookcases that are carved into the walls, holding a plethora of tomes. A couple glass display cases are near the large window on the far side of the room. The evening sunlight pours in from the wide window and onto the chaise lounge adjacent to it; a relaxing spot for one who wishes to bask in the sun. 

The solid, dark wooden desk across from the double doors has a number of loose papers strewn about the top. An ornate wooden chair sits behind the desk, purple velvet upholstery with golden Damask patterns lining the back and seat. Two simple royal blue armchairs sit before the desk, signaling the office’s likely use for business gatherings.

“Please, make yourself at home,” the older woman says from behind as she enters the room. She walks over to the desk and gathers the documents into a single pile. “Would you care for something to drink, my lady? I'd be happy to bring you something after informing Lord Ancunín of your presence.”

Tav turns her head in acknowledgement of the older woman. “I'm quite well, thank you.” She furrows her brow. “Though, I didn't catch your name before.”

The woman freezes momentarily before bringing her hands to her cheeks. “Oh, my goodness!” she exclaims in embarrassment, bringing her hands to her cheeks. “Where are my manners today?” She quickly bows. “Magdalena, my lady. A true pleasure to make your acquaintance. My sincerest apologies.”

“It’s quite alright, Magdalena. No harm done,” Tav says with a calming wave of her hand. She walks toward the grand window and turns to face the older woman again. “Thank you for your hospitality thus far. I’ll settle myself in.”

With a nod of her head, Magdalena begins to exit the study. “Of course, Lady Tavaria. I’ll inform Master Astarion of your presence at once.” The doors close behind her with a soft click, and suddenly, Tav is alone.

She removes the satchel from around her chest, depositing the bag onto the chaise lounge. Her hat and scarf are next to join as she shakes out her hair. Tav tries to look through the frosted glass window without success. The opacity is too intense to make out anything more than muddled blobs. Turning around, she begins to walk the perimeter of the room, stopping in front of a large glass display case with a large book resting within. The cover of the book is adorned with skin, stitched into the pattern of a screaming face. An amethyst jewel sits within the face’s open mouth. Tav recalls the long nights and early mornings Astarion spent reasoning with this book until finally uncovering its secrets.

The Necromancy of Thay. 

Of course he kept it.

She continues on, noting each small trinket that sits within the shelves of the grand bookcases. Slipping her hands behind her back, Tav peers over the wooden desk and observes the pile of documents on top. She pops her head up to briefly scan the room. Satisfied that she has clear advantage, she takes a hand to swipe over the letters.

There are various invitations to grand balls in distant kingdoms, letters of gratitude from high nobles, bills of sale… Tav’s eyes widen as she spots a familiar name amongst the many signatures.

With deepest admiration, Araj Oblodra

Tav reaches over and picks up the letter off the desk, holding it steady with both hands as she skims through the contents. From what she gathers, it sounds as if Araj has learned of Astarion’s new circumstances. She’s highly apologetic for her past behavior and would very much like an opportunity to show her sincerest gratitude. The letter goes on further to imply that they take the chance to get to know one another better, and perhaps they can even become  allies. 

Tav scoffs as she places the piece of paper back down on the desk. 

She resumes her roaming when she settles on a small jewelry case on the top left of the desk. Walking around the edge, Tav fixates on the case, a startled gasp slips past her lips as she recognizes the jewelry within.

Resting atop a red velvet cushion lay a golden ring with a turquoise stone in its center. One half of a matching set of rings she had found during their journey through the Shadow-Cursed Lands. Tav was in possession of both rings for quite some time, going back and forth with herself about whether giving him one half would be too much. 

She’d grown to like him; really-really like him, but she’d no idea if he felt the same. It wasn’t until the night of Astarion’s confession that Tav made her decision. Feeling the tension within his body as she wrapped her arms around his waist, yet fighting through his hesitation to return her embrace. It was enough to convince her that he truly did want to give them a try. 

She presented the ring to him the following morning as they packed up camp.

“...A bit soon for a proposal, no?” quips Astarion, expression smug.

Tav stands before him. A ring with a golden aura lays within the palm of her hand, held out in silent offer. “N-no!” she stammers, the ghost of a blush tinting her cheeks. She averts her gaze as she says, “It's an enchanted ring.”

Astarion raises an eyebrow in question. “I can see that quite clearly, dear. But what does it do?”

Turning to look at him under her eyes, Tav replies shyly, “...It allows me to cast a special protection spell on you.” Her cheeks burn hot, her skin beginning to prickle.

His eyes darken as he leans forward. “Oh,” Astarion teases, voice velvet, “you wish to be my Knight?” He begins to move into her, hovering his lips just above hers. “You want to save a poor, innocent maiden such as I,” he coos. “Is that it, darling?”

They spent the majority of the following night rutting feverishly against one another, sharing a mutual need to scrub their underclothes in the river the morning after. From that point forward, each wore their respective ring around the fourth finger of the left hand.

Commotion outside the office brings Tav back to the present. She hears the voice of a woman, though not of the servant from earlier. Tav sneaks closer toward the doors, placing her ear to the wood to hopefully catch some of the conversation.

Still muffled, she thinks with a scowl. Drawing a deep breath in, Tav makes a quick split decision and grabs hold of the doorknob, twisting it gently. She feels the lock unlatch and pulls the door open just enough to allow for a small sliver of visibility. Tav strains against the door as she tries to find a better angle. 

A tall elven woman with long blonde hair stands in the foyer exchanging words with Magdalena. Dressed in professional attire, she hands the maid a business card as they exchange pleasantries. Tav catches the woman's head beginning to turn toward the direction of the office and Tav quickly steps out of sight, holding her breath, heart flying within her chest. A few moments pass without incident before Tav slowly inches toward the crack in the door. She finds Magdalena bowing as the elf takes her leave of the manor.

There isn't much time to ponder who this mysterious woman is – the sound of footsteps marching along marble flooring fills the air. 

“Good evening, Master,” greets Magdalena, kneeling in a curtsy.

“Good evening, my dear.” A man's voice, deep and smooth. Perfectly poised. Her stomach lurches; she knows that voice.

Tav holds her breath as talk continues just beyond the door. She quickly scans the room to determine which is closer – the blue armchair sitting before the desk, or the chaise lounge near the window. 

As the man's footsteps draw closer to the door Tav bolts for the armchair, sitting promptly. She adjusts herself to appear as if she's been waiting patiently for his arrival all this time. 

“Odd that the door is already open,” Tav hears the man comment from just beyond the door. 

Shit. 

A flash of embarrassing heat crawls up her neck. Magdalena mutters something to Astarion under her breath, but it's too quiet for Tav to make out. The doors suddenly swing open and Tav remains still, trying desperately to settle the overactive current that is her nerves.

She smells him first before she sees him – the signature scent of rosemary, bergamot and brandy encompassing the quaint office. “Thank you, Magdalena. Now, please, carry on,” he says smoothly. 

Tav hears the man begin to approach from behind, placing the palms of his hands atop her shoulders. “I’m sure you've done a fine job at making our Lady feel welcome, hmm?” He squeezes her shoulders, Tav flinching beneath his grasp.

Tav tries desperately to resist the urge to look at him. When she closes her eyes she envisions the sharpness of his jaw behind her mind's eye, coupled with the smell of his cologne that’s currently assaulting her senses – she simply cannot look at him. If she does, she's going to fall.

She'll forget about the murders. Forget how angry she is that he dared come to her in a state of blood-crazed lust. That she carries a child he knows nothing about, that he can never know anything about.

If she looks at his face, so perfectly sculpted by the Gods themselves, she's going to forget every reason as to why she should stay far, far away from this man. Longing for nothing more than to fall into his arms for the rest of eternity.

“Y-yes,” Tav replies, nervously. “You've been ever so kind, Magdalena. Thank you.” Finally, she turns, eyes meeting with the servant woman. Tav feels the pale elf's searing gaze upon her skin as she deliberately looks past him, the hands on her shoulders relaxing.

“Wonderful,” he sings with a wave of his hand. “Now leave us, Magdalena.” He walks around Tav, coming to lean against the lip of the office desk. “The Lady and I have much to discuss,” he purrs, leaning over as he places a hand upon her jaw. Slowly he tilts her face upright, staring directly into her eyes. “Isn't that right, love?”

Within an instant, she feels faint. An unsettling warmth begins to spread. “Yes, Astarion,” Tav murmurs softly as his fingers slip down her neck. Her eyes flutter closed as the hand inevitably falls free of her. Astarion slowly leans back and upright, a hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. He breaks eye contact to focus on Magdalena.

The servant woman bows, closing the doors behind her with an audible ‘thud’ as she takes her leave. The room is silent then. Tav’s heart pounds in her ears as she stares beyond Astarion again, focusing on the ring box at the corner of the desk. She only realizes how rapidly she's breathing as the sound reaches her ears.

“Are you alright, dear?” Astarion’s smooth voice cuts through. “You look as though you've seen a ghost.”

Raising her head, Tav meets his eyes. He stands before her, concern written across his features. For a split second, Tav sees him – the dashing rogue she fell in love with.

The way Astarion is knitting his brow, wide glassy eyes studying her. It's all very much like him. 

“I’m fine,” she forces out, swallowing hard.

“Did Magdalena offend you?” Astarion asks urgently.

Tav shakes her head. “No, she truly has been pleasant.”

He leans over her again. Astarion drags a finger delicately up the side of her cheek. “Then why do you cry?”

Immediately Tav raises a hand to her opposite cheek. Moisture coats her fingertips as she finds a stray tear rolling down her cheek. She’s unsure when or why she’s begun to weep, wiping the tear away with the back of her hand. Tav pulls herself out of Astarion’s touch with a slight groan.

“I-I’m fine, really,” she insists. “I… came to see you.”

The vampire's expression softens as he tilts his head. “I haven't come to you in some time,” Astarion says, walking toward a carafe of wine sitting atop a metal cart near the window. “I apologize for that.” He speaks over his shoulder, pouring the wine out into a glass. He gestures with the carafe briefly to Tav; she shakes her head. “Although, I can't say I anticipated you showing up here.” Placing the carafe back down on the cart, Astarion turns, lips pulling into a smirk as he brings the wine glass to his lips. “Is it true then, what they say? Has absence made your heart grow fonder?”

Tav stands and turns to Astarion, giving him a full glance over. He wears a simple white dress shirt, the top few buttons undone revealing glimpses of his sculpted chest. His trousers are something she’s unfamiliar with – a type of woven cotton in a particular vertical design, and dyed blue. Indigo blue. He's wearing a black belt, threaded into loops within the pants around his hips. Tav imagines there's a fastener under the belt buckle, but also something else to help secure the garment. Something metal running down the front seam of the pants. Her eyes finish their course down his legs to find a simple pair of polished black loafers.

“...I'll take that as a yes,” Astarion comments with a quirk of his brow. He returns from across the room to once again take his place leaning against the desk in front of Tav, setting the wine glass down.

“N-no,” Tav blurts out, “I mean yes, but…” She feels the warmth of embarrassment crawl up her neck, nipping along her skin as it floods her face. 

A hand rises to move her hair gently aside. Astarion leans forward and dips his head into the crook of her neck, planting chaste kisses along the tender flesh. “I missed you,” he whispers into her skin. Hot puffs of breath spread over her neck and Tav shudders. Almost instinctively, she raises her head to allow Astarion better access to her throat; her eyes flutter closed. His hand in her hair winds around the back of her head, gently guiding Tav’s head further to the side before falling to her hip. 

Tav gasps as Astarion pulls their bodies flush against one another. His arousal has yet to awaken, though she can still feel the outline of him against her core. She groans as he rolls her hips into her again and again; slow, languid thrusts that have bolts of pleasure shooting up from between her thighs and spreading like wildfire through her body.

“Astarion…” Tav protests weakly, raising a hand to cover Astarion's on her hip. “I didn't come here for this.”

He purrs into her throat, gently nipping and teasing the skin around her scars with blunted teeth. “Oh, no? Are you sure?” Astarion pulls her into him again while imitating a piercing bite into her neck.

She moans, louder than she means to, finally feeling the rigidness of his cock firmly against her sex. Her head falls against his shoulder as he continues rolling his hips against her, hardly noticing Astarion moving his hand from her hip to her lower back. A spark of panic zaps through her addled mind as she realizes where this is heading.

“Y-yes, I'm sure,” she insists, somehow managing to pull herself out of Astarion's embrace. The room spins around her as she turns to face him. “There's something I wanted to discuss with you,” she says breathlessly, vision finally starting to clear.

His expression falls, replaced by smug dissatisfaction. “You came halfway across the city… just to talk?” asks Astarion, narrowing his eyes.

Tav nods her head in agreement. “Yes, it's something rather important.”

Astarion groans low in his throat, grabbing the glass of wine off the desk and walking toward the office window. He brings the crimson liquid to his lips and takes a strong sip. “You could have sent a damned pigeon, if that's all you wanted,” he snides over his shoulder.

“Not about this.” Tav feels her throat run dry as she speaks. Her lust has settled for now, replaced by the live wire of anticipation.

“About what?” Astarion growls defensively. He spins around, entire body leaning into his words. Like an animal being cornered.

Tav flinches reflexively. It’s rare that Astarion ever raises his voice to her, even during disagreements. She swallows, hardening her resolve. “Don’t use that tone with me.”

Astarion hisses through clenched teeth, taking another long drink from his wine glass. His face softens. “I'm sorry, love, but I'm having a very rough time ascertaining what could ever be so important that you felt the need to bring yourself here,” he gestures wildly to the floor below him, “to me, just to talk?”

She doesn't respond.

The tension eases from his form as he studies Tav, clearly shaken by his display. He sucks his teeth in defeat. “Oh, for the love of Shar’s cunt, fine,” he groans. “If you're going to look at me like that, then fine, I'll bite.” He comes to rest on the chaise lounge near the window, knees spread wide, his forearms resting over the tops of his thighs. “So, what can I do for you, my friend?”

Tav winces, looking down at her hands as she fidgets her fingers. He's being heavily sarcastic, though at least it's an invitation to continue. “...There was an article recently in the Gazette,” she begins, voice quivering. “That spoke of a murder within the sewers.”

Astarion scoffs. “Unsurprising for those cesspits, but do carry on.”

Her eyes shift momentarily to his face before falling back to the floor. “It's reported that there were five victims in total. Three had their throats slashed, while the other two…” her voice trails off as her throat tightens. Tav tries to swallow, but nothing goes down. Panic rises within her, adrenaline building.

“The other two what, dear?” Astarion's voice is dark, firm. He stands from his place on the lounge, walking slowly over to Tav. He stands before her, brows pulled together, his eyes cast down upon her face. A hand comes up to lift her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Tell me,” he demands.

She gasps, Tav finally saying with some hesitation, “They had fang marks… embedded in their throats. Resembling the scars I bear.” She blinks. “The ones you gave me,” she adds, quietly.

His eyes darken with malice as his face contorts. His grip on her chin tightens, forcibly lifting her head to the side to observe her branding. Astarion pulls in a full breath as he looks over her neck, mouth dropping open in an exasperated exhale.

“...Do you know anything about this?” Tav chokes out, eyelashes fluttering rapidly.

“And why would I know anything about that, hmm?” Astarion lowers his head into the crook of her neck, panting heavily against her skin. Tav shakes from their proximity. He then drags his lips up the side of her face, resting them against her ear. “I'm not the only monster lurking in the shadows,” he whispers.

The hand on her chin falls to her hip, guiding her gently toward the lip of the desk. “I know how you think of me, darling.” Tav sucks in a sharp breath as her backside bumps into the wood. “That I’m the big bad wolf coming to steal you away in the night.” Astarion buries his nose within her hair, inhaling deeply as he pulls their bodies flush together again.

“A-answer the question, Astarion,” Tav insists, her head beginning to cloud.

“Oh, but wouldn't you rather hear what I miss most about you, Tavaria?” he growls into her ear. “What memories play incessantly again and again in my mind?” Astarion grinds himself against her center again, coaxing a suggestive moan out of Tav. Her arms rise to encircle his neck, her resolve beginning to shatter.

“A-Astarion,” Tav whines desperately. “D-don’t…”

He drops his head to rest their foreheads together, lips practically touching. “I miss how you’d writhe in my lap as I'd drink from you,” Astarion confesses. He pulls at her bottom lip, suckling the flesh between his. “The way you flutter around my cock when you fall off the edge for me.” He kisses her more thoroughly this time, groaning softly into her mouth as Tav’s jaw slackens. “But, do you know what I miss above all else?” suggests Astarion, pulling back. He dips his head again into the nape of her neck, a hand rising to gently hold the opposite side of her face. 

Tav grasps at the linen of his dress shirt, bunching the fabric within the palms of her hands. She's now rocking her hips in rhythm with his, a smoldering fire now roaring to life deep within her belly. Her body calls for him, and Tav wonders briefly if he can hear it.

The crazed beating of her heart? The lone song it sings only for him? The proof of their union that grows within?

“Your blood,” Astarion speaks against her skin. Suddenly he places his mouth over her scars and sucks voraciously, like a man starved. Tav moans, buckling at the knees momentarily. She grabs at his hair, threading her fingers deep against their roots for leverage. “Gods, there's nothing quite like the vintage of your blood,” he continues as he unlatches from her throat. The delicacy of her skin has given way to a mauve bloom; he smiles as he pulls away.

She shakes beneath him. If it weren't for the desk behind her, Tav would certainly collapse. He's trying to seduce her. Fuck her into submission – make her crave him so that she's more pliable, in whichever way he desires. These are his classic manipulation tactics, not unlike their humble beginnings.

“I know w-what you're doing, Astarion,” Tav says. “Don’t toy with me.”

He laughs – a quick condescending sound breaking free from his lips. “Oh, darling, you've been toying with me for months now. I'm very aware,” Astarion says with a smirk. He cranes his head. “Our dance is always the same – we fight, we kiss, and then I make the sweetest love to you as you weave your fingers between the very threading of my soul, ripping my heart free of my chest,” he adds with a sneer, pounding a fist over his heart. 

Astarion pauses for a brief moment to stare at her. He pulls in a quick breath and his face softens. “And I let you, every time.” Tav gasps as the hand holding her face slides to her chin, fingers tracing the outline of her lips. “But you?” he continues, gesturing to a shelf on the wall behind them with a nod of his head, “You keep yours high on a shelf, completely out of reach. No matter how I clamor for it.”

Astarion releases her, hands entirely off her being as he steps back. “I lay myself bare for you every time. But you refuse to see it. Refuse to see me, beyond the glitz and glamor.” He knits his brow again, and Tav swears she sees a hint of moisture gather at the edges of his eyes. “Yet, I say nothing, because this is the only way you allow me to have you. And I’d rather have some of you than nothing at all.” 

Silence blankets them both. 

Has she been unfair to him? Cruel? Has she so sorely misjudged who he’s become? Tav shifts her gaze down to the floor as the questions mount. Maybe he isn’t this grand demon she’s characterized him to be. His talk of power and control after the ritual – perhaps it was a rush of emotions? The first taste of freedom after so many years of indentured servitude? He seems more settled now, not in so much of a rush to bend the entire city to his will.

Perhaps… she was wrong?

“So, may we skip straight to the finale?” says Astarion, distracting her from her thoughts, “Because I’m not quite sure how much more of this I can take.”

Her mouth hangs open, too stunned to speak. Tav looks up; she meets his eyes.

Maniacal laughter as he bathes in a glowing red aura of 7000 souls extinguished.

His face when the ritual was complete. The way he roared. How he laughed.

No, she's not wrong for mistrusting him. He's worse than a devil themselves.

They stare into one another's eyes, the tension swirling about the room thickening. Tav blinks; he still hasn't answered her question. 

“You still haven't answered my question, Astarion.”

She stands firm.

He scoffs, turning his head toward the grand window. Astarion runs a hand over his face; he bites the top of a finger. “No,” he answers sternly, dropping the hand from his mouth. “I don't take particular interest in what happens within the bowels of this city.” He glances down at the fingernails of his closed fist, rubbing them across the front of his shirt. “My days of being a sewer rat are long gone, my dear.”

Tav winces. She's not entirely yet convinced. “Are you sure?”

Slowly, Astarion returns his attention to her. “Yes,” he growls low in this throat, “I am sure.” He tilts his head to the side as he lifts his brow. “Satisfied?”

Briefly she narrows her eyes, studying his face. Something about this… she's seen it before. He's pulled his face into an all-too-perfect expression. Not a muscle out of place.

“Yes, thank you,” she answers. Tav watches his liar’s mask slide off, replaced by a smug expression. He’s truly convinced he has her fooled.

How could she have ever loved such a horrid creature?

“Excellent,” Astarion hums as he clasps his hands. “Shall we return to more pressing matters?” His hands raise to caress the soft edges of her hips. He drops his face to her forehead, planting a soft, lingering kiss. Gently he rocks them together again.

He's turning this into his playground. His bargaining chip.

Sex. Lies. Manipulation.

He falls back on them every time. Seals every deal with the proposition of ‘a little death;’ wielding his body like a finely sharpened tool. In her case, if she doesn't play her cards carefully, Tav could very well be staring face to face with actual death. 

“Of course,” she sings to him. “I wouldn't be truthful if I said I hadn't been thinking of this.” She smiles softly to him, in just the way she knows he likes – a smile that reaches her eyes. It's her turn to start dealing her hand.

And just as expected, Astarion folds.

Hands reach behind her knees, Astarion lifting her up and onto the top of the desk. Their kiss is hurried as he slots himself between her splayed thighs, his tongue entwining itself around hers. Astarion's hands travel up again, one landing on her waist while the other palms at a clothed breast. Tav arches her back, pushing her chest into his touch. She sighs as he continues massaging the tender mound, mewling into his mouth as he pulls teasingly at her nipple. Breaking the kiss, she rests her forehead against the bridge of his nose. Her chest heaves as she tries to regain her breath.

Astarion releases her breast and slides his hand up to push the strap of her dress off her shoulder. “Lay down,” he commands with a whisper. Tav hesitates at first, but then moves slowly. She gently lays back onto the surface of the desk; the wood is cold against her exposed skin, sending a chill through her. Astarion leans forward, planting open-mouthed kisses to her neck and the newly exposed area of her shoulder. He travels down, suckling softly at the swell of her breast. She writhes beneath his touch as his hair tickles her chest.

“Ai armiel telere maenen hir,” says Astarion, kissing down the expanse of her abdomen. Tav grasps at silver locks, threading her fingers through Astarion’s hair as he begins hiking up her dress.

“You’ve said that to me before,” she pants heavily while stealing a look between her legs. An involuntary twitch ripples through her as he kisses the inside of her thigh. Tav feels him smirk into her skin.

“And still you’ve yet to seek out its meaning,” comes his prompt response. Astarion hooks his fingers into the hem of her undergarments, Tav lifting her hips enough for him to slide the fabric down her legs. They hang off one ankle as he resumes lavishing attention to her.

She arches off the desk as he kisses her mound, dipping his head momentarily to swipe his tongue teasingly up her slit. “W-uh, what d-does it mean?” she questions in a moan.

Astarion hums as he kneels before her spread legs. “You'll just have to find out for yourself,” he teases. Holding her legs open, he runs the flat of his tongue up her center, stopping to lavish her sensitive bud. He wraps his lips around her clit, suckling gently as he brings a hand to her entrance.

“What are you-” Tav exclaims, clearly panicked. Two of his fingers prod over her entrance, Astarion lightly teasing the tips in and out. Their eyes connect and he finally breaches forward, his eyes now rolling back into his skull as he continues lapping at her cunt. He curls his fingers, jerking his hand back and forth to pass over the intimate spot within. Tav’s vision begins to fill with searing white heat, her body writhing under him. He's bringing her closer and closer to release, and fast. More quickly than ever before.

“Gods, you taste even better than I remember,” he moans softly, adding fuel to the ever-mounting fire within her belly. Astarion kisses her opposite thigh, continuing the assault with his fingers. “Thiramen,” he says softly, sensing her proximity to the precipice.

The fucking Elvish. He surely hasn't forgotten the effect it has on her.

“D-don’t… not fair…” Tav whines, looking down between her legs as she runs her hands through Astarion's hair. Her thighs quake, the coil in her lower belly winding tighter and tighter as it threatens to snap.

Astarion meets her gaze, tongue once again passing over her swollen clit. “Thiramen eath’she,” he says. “Let shan nesh tel’quiet, thiramen...”

Astarion curls his finger with just the right amount of finesse and suddenly Tav’s body ceases. She cries out, loud and wanton, her release spilling into the palm of his hand. Astarion smirks and continues passing his fingers over her spot, coaxing her through the intensity of her pleasure. Tav pulls her knees together and finally rolls away from his touch, too overstimulated to take any more. Her chest heaves as aftershocks of her release rock through her.

The vampire smiles as he stands up, wiping his face with the back of his hand. He begins undoing the buttons of his dress shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders. Opening her legs again, he leans over her. Tav’s face is flushed red, her eyes still closed as her mouth hangs open. He makes a quick mental note of her current state to call upon for later use. “So beautiful,” Astarion comments, snaking a hand down to the button of his trousers. With the deftness expected of a skilled rogue, he pops open the button and loosens the fastener. 

Tav finally comes to, opening her eyes to meet his gaze. “Astarion…” she breathes, raking her nails over his bare chest. Looking between their bodies, she follows his hand as he reaches within the waistband of his underclothes, pulling them down his thighs. His cock springs free and Tav gasps. Pre-fluid gathers at the tip of him and her eyes flutter upward to meet his again, feeling heat rise to her cheeks.

“I'll stop, if you want,” Astarion whispers through kiss-swollen lips. Guiding his length to rest against her sex, he groans softly, resting his head against her forehead. Involuntarily twitches of his hips have his shaft sliding deliciously through her arousal. Both pull in a sharp breath when the head of his cock catches at her entrance, Tav’s body arching off the desk at the sensation.

Shaky hands rise to hold either side of his face, and Tav notices for the first time that evening how warm it is. A soft blush sits high on his face, across the tops of his cheeks. Astarion turns his head into her palm, planting gentle kisses. Any reservations begin to melt away at the gesture. “No,” she breathes, “it's fine. I want this.” Tav runs her thumb back and forth over his cheek. “Even if only for a little while.”

He nods, completely silent, then guides himself along her core. Her hands tangle within moonlit locks as he breeches her entrance. Her sudden pleasured moan is swallowed in a kiss, Astarion groaning out is own into her mouth as his length slips deeper, deeper, until he hits her end. Tav tastes the remnants of her release on his tongue; a bitter sweetness that tickles the back of her throat. An involuntary clenching of her walls around his cock as his tip kisses the end of her tunnel has Astarion moaning again, breaking their kiss. He buries his head within the crook of her neck, resting there for a brief moment as he bottoms out.

They lay still, Tav pressing a heated cheek to the side of his face. Inhaling deeply, she crosses her legs over the small of his back and pulls him impossibly closer. Astarion adjusts the angle of his hips and she gasps as the head of his cock pushes against her cervix again, slightly arching into his embrace. Gently he begins to rock his hips – short, teasing thrusts to test her readiness. He lavishes attention to her neck with languid kisses, suckling at the delicate skin.

This is… passionate. Intimate, Tav realizes. The words he cannot say aloud, that he's too afraid to say aloud, he'll express through this.

This is her Astarion. The man she fell in love with over a year ago. Here, like this, is him. Tav turns her face to plant reassuring kisses against his temple. “You can move, Astarion,” she tells him.

He doesn't lift his face, but she feels how he breathes against her skin. A hand comes up to thread within her hair, the other landing on her hip. He’s silent as he begins to move – pulling out before slowly plunging back in. They stay like this for a bit, Astarion rocking his hips into her core with added fevor. He glides smoothly as her arousal grows, Tav falling easily into their shared rhythm.

“Tav?”

She opens her eyes, unaware of having closed them. “Mmm?” she groans softly, mouth falling open in a silent gasp as he adjusts his angle.

“Do you trust me?”

It takes a moment, but she’s sure she hears a sort of sternness in his voice. Tav peels her head back to meet his eyes. They're wild – dark crimson pools that threaten to swallow her whole. Astarion breathes heavily through his nose, eyes cast down as he awaits an answer.

She opens her mouth to speak but the words catch in her throat. With a wandering eye she finds the ring laying next to her on the corner of the desk. Light gleams on the gold band, reflecting off the glass of encasement.

He kept the ring, she argues to herself. He kept his half of the rings.

Were he so terrible, would he have done that?

“I do,” Tav answers nervously, blinking rapidly.

“May I ask a favor?”

Astarion stills his movements. He holds himself up by his elbows, but not before guiding Tav to lay flat on the surface of the desk. She nods her head slowly as she looks up to him, inviting him to continue.

In an instant, her stomach twists. 

He smiles.

“It's been so long since I've supped of you, darling,” Astarion says, voice smooth as velvet. “Would you be ever so kind to grant me another taste?”

A chill runs up her spine. The room is cold, suddenly so very cold. She's ripped violently from the benevolent illusion of the moment, finding herself face to face with the very creature of tales long past. 

The innocent maidens. 

They always come for the innocent maidens.

She was nowhere near innocent – not for many years. But a maiden? Yes, of this she was sure.

She never did tell Astarion, but he was her first as much as she was his. Her mind may have still been fractured, but somehow she had certainty of that one fact. The moment he breached her maidenhead was the beginning of everything. Bit by bit he carved out pieces of her. Took them, stole them for himself. More and more she gave, all in an effort to appease his ever-growing lust for power and control.

Astarion is, and was, a rolling thunderstorm – lightning fit to strike for no reason other than he can.

And now he's asking, again, for more.

An overwhelming urge to cry is building within her, but she won't. She chose this. To be here, with him. Like this. The consequences of her actions playing out in real time. 

Her stomach twists again and she winces in pain. She understands his craving for blood well. The pregnancy has been kicking up old feelings; she believed them to be settled after the rejection of her Father. Can she really deny him his hunger?

Tav lifts her face to meet his gaze. Astarion is looking down at her with a blank expression. He silently awaits her answer.

“...D-do not turn me, Astarion,” comes her shaky response.

A deep rumble travels up his chest as he twists his face into a foreboding smile. “Of course not, my love,” he purrs, like a cat that finally got the cream. His hand twists within Tav’s hair, guiding her head upward to expose the long column of her throat. His eyes find her scars again and he sucks in a sharp breath, involuntarily jerking his hips into her core. Astarion’s arousal has flagged, though the promise of her blood has him twitching back to life.

Tav groans as she feels him swell within her, hooking her legs back around the small of his waist. Tears threaten at the corners of her eyes as she feels his gaze upon her. “Be gentle, please,” she pleads. Trembling hands rise to hold his shoulders as he moves into position, his mouth hovering above her neck.

Astarion peppers the underside of her jaw with kisses as he trails down her neck. “I would never dream of being anything but,” he speaks into her skin. He swipes his tongue over her mark, his mark, enclosing his mouth over the spot and suckling lightly. “You'll barely feel a thing.”

She could stop this. She should stop this. But instead, she lies in wait, bracing herself for the icy sting of his fangs piercing her flesh. Tav feels the points of his teeth press into her neck; she screws her eyes shut as they sink in, hands flying to the top of his head. She groans, gripping handfuls of silver hair. 

He's right – the pain is only momentary, replaced by a familiar, comforting warmth. Astarion sucks in earnest, mouthfuls of her blood rushing down his throat. With his cock fully replenished, Astarion resumes a steady rhythm, thrusting in time with each pull of blood into his mouth. He groans against her skin.

He desires this, he desires me, Tav reassures herself. The edges of her vision are beginning to darken; a telltale sign that she's reaching her limit. “Astarion,” she says meekly, trying to alert him of her condition.

Yet, he continues to drink.

She pants against his forehead as she tries desperately to break free of his hold. Her strength is quickly fading, more of her vision fading with each pull of her blood into his mouth. Still his thrusts continue; a numbness starts to spread from her core throughout her limbs.

“Astarion…” Tav calls again, voice barely above a whisper.

The ceiling is the last thing she sees before she closes her eyes. Even behind her closed lids the room spins. One hand slips from the top of Astarion's head and onto the table, followed shortly by the other.

As she slips closer and closer into unconsciousness, Tav makes peace with the fact that she chose this. She knew this was a possibility. She knew he desired this, and she gave it to him. Willing.

He outplayed her.

A single thought races across her mind before she fades, of the artwork in the foyer.

The vampire bites the woman he desires.

Finally, Tav succumbs to the dark. 

Astarion continues to drink.

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

A/N: PHEW. Well. The art I referenced above I believe is a scene from a manga called "Blood Sucker," but I couldn't find an actual panel depicting the image above, even with reverse image searching. If anyone can find the actual reference, please feel free to inform me and I'll adjust the link. Translations for the Elvish are as followed: Ai armiel telere maenen hir - "You hold my heart forever" Thiramen - "I love you/my love" when referring to soulmates Thiramen eath’she - "I love you forever," again, in the context of soulmates Let shan nesh tel’quiet, thiramen - "Let go for me, my love," Sources are here & here

Hope you had fun reading!!

[inbarfink]

So my current working theory about What the Hell is Going On is that, yeah, Fionna and Cake and their whole world are indeed a creation of Simon’s Mind. Like, it’s probably gonna be something about how Ice King’s brain was so infused with Magic and Madness and Sadness and a heartfelt belief that Fionna and Cake are real that it created this world where they can be real and now that he’s Simon again it’s still linked to him. But also Fionna and Cake and the others are ‘Real’ in the sense that they all have a clear interiority and real emotions and some amount of free will. You know, the fact that Fionna has some sort of lingering feeling that something’s Wrong about her world, and that everyone seems to dream of their old magical selves and their own magical lives is proof enough to me that even if they are born of Simon’s psyche they also have minds and wills of their own.

And my thoughts about the Ice Prince of Fionna’s dream is that it’s like… So Fionna is dreaming of snippets of her old Magical Adventurer Life in Ice King’s old fanfictions, filtered via also Regular Dream Weirdness and general Wish Fulfillment. And Ice Prince is the lingering afterimage of Ice King’s tendency to self-insert himself into Fionna’s adventures in very Wish Fulfilment kinda way (as seen at the start of ‘Bad Little Boy’, for example)

Only filtered through the lens of Fionna’s subconscious - and filtered through her own Wish Fulfillment desires (since she’s a Real Person now and not just a tool for Ice King’s fantasies) and also she’s a Sailor Moon fangirl

So if I’m right, that would make Ice Prince a Wish Fulfillment version of a Wish Fulfillment character created from the mind of a Wish Fulfillment character.

[maounteighn]

Overanalising Moral Orel: Clay, Bloberta and the Colour Theory

p.2 Bloberta

p.1

In p.1 we have already established that Bloberta's colour is red and it remained red throughout her whole journey. Her sense of Self was untouched neither by marriage nor by parenthood. When we are taking about relativity of her identity, she doesn't base it around or against anyone in her current family.

Her style barely changes, always containing red and white. However, she gradually loses white in her garments the more she decides to walk on her own. Her younger self up to that wedding in Help wears the most white – visually it softens the boldness of her red skirt. At the reception party she wears mostly red, white is only her belt and headband – red is also more saturated. The same red remains in her post-wedding daily wear. While white is not only in her collar, but also her apron, it is a completely different piece of clothing. Underneath the apron there's still her red dress. White apron dilutes red too, making it look less assertive, but it's only for the time she wears it. It's like a mask of a housewife and a mother, that she willing puts on for a meantime. Underneath it it's still her real, very persistent Self, that she is not particularly trying to hide. She also water down her true Self to appear less threatening to the society – she is a woman who has desires, attitudes and strength she shouldn't demonstrate. So not to apper a deviant, she has to adopt a socially acceptable Persona for herself.

Despite common beliefs that woman's true identity is of a wife and a mother, Bloberta is never changed by acquiring these statuses. Quite opposite, it's Clay who shapes his identity in relation to her (against her). It a simple visual storytelling, he is nothing significant to her, he is an instrument to her goals and desires, a tool. And a useless tool, too.

What has actually influenced Bloberta's sense of Self had done it way before she and Clay met. Take a look at her family.

Her mother Regina wears a mix of brown, red and very dark-green. Everyone else wears a variation of her colours. Modella – red and yellow-green, Lunchbox – green, Raymond – brown. Together they look very homogeneous too. They don't stick out, they don't clash, they don't take attention away from Regina. In comparison, their wardrobes are also similar and very simple, mostly plain l, while hers is quite busy and speckled, ornated. She is the center of attention. Raymond blends with the background, Modella and Lunchbox are like an extension of her perfect aesthetic. And all together they look classy, a very much dark academia family. That to be said, literally no one on the picture is allowed to diverge from the selected route (even their interior is in gren/brown/red) – they HAVE to be inside the borders of The Family Aesthetic or else...

In other words, they are constantly putting up a show, a collective Persona. The are not a perfect family by any standards, but Regina tightly manages their public image. Even at the reception the are like this.

But Who we have across the table? Bloberta. Her bright red skirt and white patterned blouse. She doesn't fit in the family approved hue of red, she wears too much white – she reflects too much light, her red looks even brighter again it. She is just that bright. Her reception dress is also bright red. If she was ever allowed to stand closer to them, they would look dull. So she never is. She is a family outcast. It's also reflective of a talent that she possess so naturally but is never able to utilise bc no one is interested. Despite her constant search of love and acceptance, she adopts this identity of a black – or rather red – sheep of the family that functionally casts her aside. She doesn't change to appeal to her mother's taste, probably bc it's senseless. Regina is not interested in Bloberta or her success, so it wouldn't matter anyways.

See, also, if her father was truly affiliated with her, he would have won a bit of her red maybe. It would've been a nice touch. But we know that he was too reluctant to defend his daughter even if he felt sorry for her. Her siblings are not on her side either. Lunchbox is actually her antipode – completely in green, a contrasting, complementary colour to red from the opposite side of the colour wheel – a son, a youngest child, a talent her mother actually wants. He is everything Bloberta is not. Modella, despite being closer to Bloberta in colour theme, in tone is closer to their mother. She may be not so aggressively opposite, but she is too reluctant to align with her. She has softer colour, she might be on good terms with her personally, but wouldn't risk standing up for her to Regina. Thus, Bloberta is completely alienated from her family.

Also, Bloberta's clashing style can be interpreted as her subconscious attempt to separate herself from her siblings in a desperate attempt to get attention too. Bloberta is a middle child, moreover she is a middle daughter inbetween an older sister and a younger brother. It's socially acceptable to deem her invisible – you already have an excellent daughter and a son™, this one is spare. Red is a very noticeable colour, it attracts attention. In Bloberta's case, it can also be so that she is noticed even if looked at passively. This way, her bright red is imprinted on someone's retina, even if they barely acknowledge her presence. This way, her mother, despite looking past her every day, never forgets that she is there. Thus, red is her only chance to be noticed by somebody, anybody. It's a survival tactics for her. Her depressed, meek attitude at home, and everywhere where she is with her family, doesn't allow her to come to her own character. To avoid being an afterthought, she wears bright red and contrasts it will white.

Now, let's take a look at her friend group. They all seem to have a similar style of colour combination. Pastel tones, dark-light, no more than two colours etc. But you see, no one is so on the nose like Bloberta. Even that one girl, that wears red too – it's not the same. Her red is darker, closer to brown and contrasted with light green, that is also with red plaid. The all are colourful, of course, but tame. It's just Bloberta who is standing out, and not only bc she's the only single friend now.

Also, there's another character, who stands out just like Bloberta, but in an opposite technique. Censodoll and her in this instance actually (and in general) share some similar characters despite such a dramatic difference in colour identity. They are both single, their Self shaped by actions of their mothers, the Self so strong, that they keep it throughout the whole life. However Censodoll approaches her existence with black – colour that absorbs light. She is not susceptible to the influence of her environment, but she is acutely aware of it – subsequently she can exploit it for her own gain. (Censodoll deserves her own separate paragraph).

White is a very reflective colour, it reflects light from its surrounding. Pre-Help Bloberta is very much receptive of what her surrounding thinks and expects of her and she reflects back exactly that. The slow decline of white elements in her clothes can signify gradual maturing, jadedness. Young Bloberta is still sensitive, naïve and youthfully innocent. She's of course already lost most of her expectations, learned to accept that little consideration she's given and not object or ask for more. At the reception she wears mostly red because the earlier encounter with her friend group gave her a motivation – to get engaged asap to be included again. The tone is more saturated, the white belt or headband does very little to counteract it – she drops the act she does without her family around, she is confident in her actions too. Subsequently, this becomes a colour of her victory and her downfall.

I have to say, the only time Bloberta ever abandoned her significant red was during her affair with Stopframe. It's a sportswear, so it's usually white. But on a storytelling side, it tell us about her (and his) motives a lot.

She wears all white with a tiny bit of blue. You see, we already established how white is a reflective colour. Story wise she is trying to be someone different too, just this once. It doesn't necessarily mean that it's unauthentic for her, just that it diverges greatly from her original and by that time setted colour identity. Its probable, that she is also putting a very strong and exaggerated act – she's desperate after all. It's been at least 4 years of her marriage to Clay, that was a horrible mistake from day 1, she knew it instantly, too. So this act here is targeted to secure her a better relationship (or so she thinks). It's actually the same approach she used on Clay in Help + longevity. The one thing she definitely has learnt was that she shouldn't immediately jump to a conclusion. So here, she is expanding her act in time and also putting more effort in her reflection. A tiny bit of blue is her way of associating with Stopframe, blue is one of his signature colours, especially to her. (Notably, he also has a tiny bit of red – he is also putting up an act here, they are quite the same in their tactics. He wears white, just like Bloberta, for the effect of reflection – he is whatever she wants him to be, an affinity to her. But notably, he keep an element of his own colour, while she drops it completely. He is not that dedicated to the initial act, not as much as she is.)

So, Bloberta holds her identity in a death grip and wears red as a trophy. However, she became a product of her own environment first, and locked it on herself second. Red is what she needed to survive among her family and friends, not necessarily what she truly was. Now, of course, it's what she it, the Self she accepted and built up.

Her red is very different from Clay's red too. She has a potential to be whatever she wants actually, she has much more agency than Clay in terms of independent existence. She is versatile and resilient, she is flexible and capable of big achievements if she puts her mind to it. In her case, red = strength, power she actually has, and, in extension, the power of Self that Clay actually desires but lacks.

They are different in their approaches and attitudes, routes the took etc., but in the end they arrived to the same result. They are two parts of the same disaster, one whole broken system.

Orel is next.

[yagirlwrites]

Drinks & Misunderstandings

Hiii! It's been a while! Here's a little The Sounds of a Good Boy blurb about another encounter where Rafe makes a fool of himself and she thinks he's a dumbass🙈 this is set right after The Night We Met ❤️ Hope you like it!

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Series Masterlist

My work is my own; it’s not to be copied, transferred or translated. Reblogs are welcome! Happy reading!🥰

Drinks & Misunderstandings

It had been exactly a week since their encounter at the party. Rafe had been able to think of very little except her. It was extremely inconvenient and fucking frustrating. He thought about the way she looked at him in the kitchen more times than he could count and it ended up making his pants get tighter every time. He didn’t understand what it was about her that made him so obsessed. He was also incredibly angry and tired of her running through his mind given the fact that she spoke exactly three words to him- when he asked if her friend was okay. Oh but her voice was stuck on repeat. He had felt butterflies in his stomach when she finally spoke to him.

It hadn’t mattered that she only said “I don’t know.” He was so taken aback that he didn’t even manage to respond before she left. She seemed distressed and he wanted to ask more, to offer to help -something! But she was gone before he could process and he spent all night kicking himself for not being quicker. Though he knew she probably wouldn’t have wanted his help anyway, given that she had ignored him all night.

This Saturday, the usual frat party scene was exchanged for a birthday bar hop for one of his frat brothers. Rafe wasn’t really feeling it. Though the alcohol was welcome, the company and the loud music was not. He had been drowning his sorrows all week, barely paying attention to his classes. His mind always on her. He wondered what happened to her friend, if she was okay; wondered if he’d ever see her again. He mostly wondered why the hell he was wondering about all those things in the first place. He couldn’t make heads or tails of the situation, not understanding how she managed to have such a hold on him when he didn’t even know her name.

The bar they were currently in was one of the classier establishments they visited that night. If the interior hadn’t made it clear the prices of the drinks left no room for doubt. It was crowded and hot but at least the music wasn’t as loud as in the bar they were in last. He was starting to feel a headache coming, so he welcomed the slightly queieter albeit pretentious environment they were in now.

The guys had spent all night circling the group for drink duties, he had befallen the faith of getting the next round. He was already feeling the effect of the alcohol as he made his way to the bar to order more drinks. Slightly leaning onto the counter for support after stumbling a little on his way over, he bumped into the person to his left, throwing a quick sorry as the guy glared at him.

Waiting for the bartender to notice him he lazily ran his eyes over the girl to his right. Her back was facing him as she leaned on the bar, almost mirroring his position. She was hot. Wanting to see her face, he leaned slightly closer, hoping she’d turn around if she senses his presence. Her perfume hit him and he swore he smelled it before but his drunk mind couldn’t place it.

Just as he expected, she could feel him behind her so she turned around to glance at him. As soon as their eyes met he felt like he had been struck by lightning. It was her. The same girl who had been plaguing his thoughts for a week straight, same girl who made him feel small that night, same girl he hoped he would run into again. And there she was, standing right in front of him, wearing a sexy little black dress and looking at him again.

He could see recognition in her eyes and he felt a rush of excitement at the prospect. She remembered him. If his mind had been slightly less hazy he might have considered that wasn’t the best thing, that perhaps if she hadn’t remembered him he would have had a chance to start over, not make a fool of himself again. But all he could feel was excitement because she was there and she remembered him.

When she turned to see who had so blatantly given himself the right to stand so close to her, the last person she expected to see was him. The guy from last week’s party, same guy who had annoyed her that night, same guy who surprised her by showing concern for her friend, same guy she had thought of more times than she would ever admit to herself over the last week.

He was looking dumbstruck and she knew he remembered her. She expected him to look sheepish or even smug but he actually looked... happy? He looked like he was happy to see her. She thought it might have been an act but seeing the way his eyes were glazed and he was supporting himself on the bar, she realised he was genuine, clearly drunk and not capable of hiding his emotions. It was pretty damn adorable. She was sure after their last encounter he wouldn’t be happy to see her but there he was - right in front of her, smiling like a little kid. It took her some effort not to smile at the sight. He looked so innocent, with his bright dimply smile and his floppy hair- but she knew better.

If a by-stander had been watching them they might have noticed they were both standing there, staring at each other for a beat too long. The little moment interrupted by the bartender laying down the drinks she ordered in front of her. She broke eye contact and reached for her wallet. As she was taking it out of her purse an arm reached in front of her, black card making it to the man’s hand before she could process it.

“Drinks are on me” he said. The bartender made quick work of scanning the card and handing it back to him. He looked to her, hoping for a smile. He finally got a second chance to make a better impression on her and he jumped at the opportunity. Being a gentleman, buying her and her friends their drinks.

Her face though, wasn’t happy. She looked pissed, in fact. If this were a cartoon, Rafe imagined steam would be coming out of her ears in that moment. He didn’t understand what happened. Paying for expensive cocktails as a peace offering seemed like a good idea. Now he wasn’t sure what her problem was. Maybe she was just a miserable person.

She took the drinks in her hands, trying to balance them on the little tray. She felt like she could burst. The nerve of this asshole. The entitled douchebag. A total prick. That’s what he was. Any trace of her prior thoughts about seeing him again went out the window. The gall of this guy to just pay for her without bothering to even ask. Like she wasn’t capable of it. Like he had the right. Flashing his daddy’s black card like he owns the place, like owns her. Hell no.

She was quite done with him now.

So without looking back she took off toward their booth. The plan to get away from him as fast as possible before she caused a scene hindered by the fact that she had to walk carefully not to spill the drinks on the tray. Damn it.

As she turned and started walking away without a word his confusion grew and his annoyance resurfaced. What the hell? He wasn’t gonna let her blank him again. No way.

A hand wrapped around her bicep effectively stopped her in her tracks. His grip was firm and he pulled her back slowly, making sure the drinks she was holding didn’t fall on her. Her anger was bubbling up dangerously by now and him putting his hand on her pushed all thoughts of not causing a scene out of her head.

The look she gave him when she turned around was one that could kill a man, or at least chill him to his very bones. But Rafe was angry and he hadn’t realised the huge warning sign so he opened his mouth. Had he been less drunk he would have known that would be a terrible mistake.

“Are you serious? Not even a thank you?” He asked her, not releasing his grip from her arm. The longer his touch lingered on her skin the hotter her anger burned inside. Untill it spilled. And boy it spilled.

“Excuse me?” Her tone was dangerously low, she was barely keeping it together.

“You’re just gonna walk away again? No thank you or anything? What is your problem?” Big mistake. Huge.

“My problem?” She took a step closer, close enough so the tray ended up pressed against both their chests, the metal object the only space between their bodies. “What’s my problem?”

“Yeah. Usually people say thank you when someone buys them a drink, you know. Let alone five.” He pressed on.

“You know what. You’re right. How rude of me.” She spoke sarcastically. “Thank you so much for going over me to settle my tab without asking me, like I wasn’t even there. Thanks for thinking I need you to pay my check and swoon over you for swooping in and saving me 60 bucks. I really appreciate it.” Her voice had risen and at this point the people around them were paying attention.

“I was just being nice-“ he tried to reason.

“Nice? Doing things for me -that I’m fully capable of doing myself by the way-without my consent, is not nice. It’s patronizing. Acting like I should have no say in something, like I have as much agency as that barstool over there is not being nice- it’s being a dick. So is this.” She motioned to his hand still wrapped around her arm. At that he let go. She took a step back. His face a picture of confusion and frustration.

“Normally I would leave the drink but these are for my friends. I’ll let them know you spent a whole $20 for their cocktails, maybe one of them will give you their number.” With that she turned and walked away. This time he let her.

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

Taglist: if anyone wants to be tagged in future work let me know; @r0und3bitch @lovelornanonymity @mentallynot-here @wishing-i-was-rafes-princess @clinelyn @magnificantmermaid @mannstarkey @harringtonstudios @totallynotkaibiased @popcrone818 @fangirlwithlou @rafesxgold @malfoytargaryen @theyluvmesblog @withbeautyandrage @sierrahhh @harrys-humble-housewife @piceous21 @ditzyballerina @xoxo3m1ly @jessmaybank @palmwinemami @dustbunniess @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @starkowswife

[aihoshiino]

Hey there! I love your OnK posts especially about Ai so I wanted to ask you something that's been on my mind this week. Do you think she was "fridged" just for shock value? I've heard people call it that because of how it starts Aqua's revenge quest and I was curious how others saw it. Would love to hear your thoughts!

anon can i just say. not calling you out but the thing about being active in other parts of the fandom outside tumblr means i will get asks like this sometimes and immediately know which post on the subreddit I am being asked to indirectly reply to. again, not calling you out, but i did read this ask with a strong sense of like;

but anyway, to actually answer your question: No, I don't think Ai was fridged and I think that anyone passionately insisting she was has a fundamental misunderstanding of what purpose her death serves in her own arc and that of others and also just… what fridging even is as a concept. I've commented on this before and basically summed up my thoughts as best I could so lemme grab that old comment of mine.

Fridging implies a certain disposability and lack of care for the woman at the center of things. It's sort of drifted and gotten muddled because of misuse in modern discourse like the term 'Mary Sue', but as it was coined, it was specifically, explicitly both observation and critique of how female characters are treated in fiction primarily centered on men: the ways in which they are treated as uniquely disposable, their interiority as less full and complex, their stories as less valuable and their tragedies as inherently unworthy of exploration and interrogation. The term literally originates from the phrase 'women in refrigerators' which itself was coined by Gail Simone in reference to the trend in American superhero comics of gratuitously brutalizing, sexually assaulting or killing specifically female characters for the sole purpose of spurring the protective instincts of their male counterparts. While it's true that Ai's death spurs Aqua's revenge arc, it is also the very explicit capstone to Ai's own character arc that she goes on over the course of the prologue arc and her life in general. It is the textual manifestation of something that exists in subtext: that being an idol and growing up in the entertainment industry has robbed Ai of the opportunity to have a normal life. It makes pitch perfect thematic sense for this idea to climax in an embodiment of the misogyny, purity culture and fan entitlement that has caused her so much pain to make that idea literal in bringing an end to Ai's actual life. On top of that, Ai's actual death scene is entirely about her: it takes place entirely from her POV, centers her feelings and pain and resolves her character arc and the two most important relationships to her. The manga even frames the scene in such a way that Ai's own thoughts and feelings drown out and crowd out the most bloody and shocking moments, spending page time that could be used on goggling at the spectacle of her pain instead on forcing the reader to look at her heart and understand her. Rather than focus on her bodily agony, up until the last moment, Ai's death is about her strengths, her flaws and the absolute purity of her love. From there, interrogating the tragedy of her life and death is the entire driving force of Oshi no Ko's narrative. Ai touches and contextualizes every character's story; her legacy is the light that every one else chases while standing in her shadow. She's the beating, bleeding heart of almost every emotional beat. Almost every arc involves her, directly or indirectly, and the current arc of the manga is built explicitly on the idea of understanding and empathizing with Ai as a person and trying to honor her wishes even though she's gone. So no, I don't agree that she was fridged and I think it's reductive to try and make that call entirely off the first episode. As someone who has spent the better portion of the year having a cognitive energy dedicated to this character that surely makes me in some way mentally unwell, I think her death is so incredibly, miserably satisfying as the capstone of her arc and getting to go through the rest of the story with her heart and legacy as its foundation has enriched pretty much everything else about it.

'fridging' is not 'anytime a woman dies' anymore than 'bury your gays' is 'anytime a gay person dies'. The context surrounding these phrases is important and by extrapolating them to the point that they can mean literally anything, they lose their edge when it comes to serving as tools of critique and commentary on harmful trends in fiction.

[welldonekhushi]

Under My Spell | Part 9

Part 7 Part 8

Part 9 of Under My Spell!

Note: I deeply apologize for the sudden hiatus of this series! Now that I'm back on track, here's another part. Finally.

Enjoy, amigos! <3

Previously..

You two were bound by the beasts, and being ready to attack, until the wolves whimpered and flopped their ears, bowing down gently as they back off and slowly found an opportunity to run away. It confused you and Valeria on the fact that what could have pushed them back in fear.

Turning around, you see through the darkness, a figure walking out from the shadows, holding a flaming torch as it makes its way into the light. Your eyes widened when you realised who the individual who was approaching its way towards them.

It was Rodolfo.

Feeling relieved, you were glad that after his reluctance about going with you two, he finally made up his mind to follow you. He couldn't leave you alone in this danger and he knew it.

"Rudy!" You ran towards the man and hugged him tight. ".. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been stubborn but, I needed answers.."

"It's okay, Y/N. I know.. I also need the answers like you all, as well. Walking away from the battle feels like I'm being a coward." Rudy replied, furrowing his eyebrows. "I need the people of Las Almas to be free from this threat, too. And this is why.. I came back for you."

You smiled, feeling glad that Rudy was able to convince himself.

"I'm happy that you're back on track, Rodolfo." Valeria nods her head. "Seems like the amulets drove us here. To this cave."

Rudy looked towards the huge entrance, analysing it. "This cave seems ancient.. as if it stayed here for generations."

"It was the same cave I saw when the demon caught me! This whole place.. it feels so similar.. I think this is where we can find all our answers." You said, in hope.

"But, Y/N.. currently I can sense whatever is in there, it's not friendly. It's going to kill us.. I'm not doing this because I am preventing you from finding the answers, but you well know the demon is doing this from reaching our goal late."

"I know.. but I wouldn't let El Charro Negro stop us.. he knows it's the end of his wrath, so he's doing his best to stop us. But if we can do this together, I'm sure we'll be unstoppable." You walk towards Rudy, and extend your hand so that you can grab the torch.

Rudy blinked his eyes a few times, but then gently handed you the flaming torch, walking inside the cave. Rudy and Valeria look at each other for a while, and then agreed to follow you as well. You delve deeper into the cave, seeing the dark habitat present around the interior.. bats, dead plants.. strange noises.. and the eerie atmosphere. You made sure Rudy and Valeria followed you from behind, while looking around the place.

"We need to be careful as well, amigos. Make sure nothing attacks us out of nowhere."

"Got it." Valeria responds, and as the three walk further for a couple of minutes, you could realise things were getting shadier and obvious once you go deeper into the darkness. There were strange writings on the wall.. mostly Spanish but they were impossible to read, having the texts ragged and withered, with the strange drawings on the wall.

You wanted to make sure that no one gets lost again. "Hope whatever is beyond this darkness.. we can find out the solution.. guys.. guys—" You turn around to see Rudy and Valeria.. gone in thin air. You widened your eyes, realising you were talking to yourself all this time.

"Rodolfo? Valeria?" You called the two but you could only hear your voice echoing through the walls of the cave. "Shit.. what do I do now?" You try to muster up your courage, and walk further into the cave, trying to find the two as well. Maybe they lost track in the middle of nowhere, or..

You grew a little panicked, and held your torch tighter, while you walked further through the darkness. Mustering up the courage, you tried calling for the two but your head started to ache. You were getting strong visions of a powerful entity, with a skull face and wide-brimmed hat. You tried to hold onto yourself, and clenched your eyes, but as soon you opened them.. you found something which you couldn't believe.

The light of the torch illuminated the texts on the walls, which were now clearer, and readable. You carefully observed the words, though you weren't really trained in Spanish, but you made sure to remember the sentence.

"Dicen.. que si viene a tu casa.." You carefully read the texts. "Se come.. almas para mantenerse con.. vida? I don't get it.. but it seems to have a connection with this area." You then keep on exploring further, reaching the center of the cave. The texts turned into carvings, scriptures, paintings.. something that looked more like the El Charro Negro. Did people worship the devil here too?

As everything was now revealed, you saw.. a huge rock in front of you, with a scripture. It felt more like a chanting prayer, something which you pray for. It looked like some ancient language, but you couldn't find anything special.

All of a sudden, your mind started to show blurry images about a lifeless forest, damp and dark, with a man in a brimmed hat while he's on its horse. It was the other time where you faced a flashback like that, and you gasped, sweating profusely. The vision looked really horrifying, and then you faced the ancient rock again. The texts on the rough surface started to glow green in color, with an orb of light hitting your eyes. It seems like the amulet had brought the rock back alive from the dead.

Your body shivered, and goosebumps arose from your skin, and you had a headache again, experiencing another flashback. You saw a figure, who was getting its neck grabbed, by a mysterious presence, with a wide brimmed hat and glowing green eyes.

It must be the demon.

You thought it must be Rudy getting choked, but the face was blurry, making it impossible to recognise. As another scene flashed in your head, the figure getting choked passes down on the ground, while the demon brought his horse back and prepared to take him away with it. appearance becoming more visible to reveal the one who was getting taken away by the strange figure, on it's horse.

That face.. looked so familiar.

"Alejandro?" You opened your eyes, and widened them, seeing your amulet glow brighter, feeling a presence behind your back. You could only try to look behind yourself, slightly, as the demon roars and you push him back with your amulet powers with brute force.

The El Charro Negro groaned, and cried in anger. You held your flaming torch tighter, being prepared for the impact. It was a trap. The demon's trap, to capture you. "I know you want this, you monster." The demon roars and then pulls its attack towards you, and you bash the flaming torch over its head, making it cry out demonically. The demon growled, and destroyed the torch in your hand. But, knowing you had your powers from the amulet, you whirl your hands, and brought your attack to hit the beast with it. But, the devil was trying to take control of the fight, making you powerless in the process, though you aren't giving up this easily.

One attack of the devil pushed you behind, and you took hold of yourself, till the devil disappeared from your eyes. You looked around everywhere, finding a trace of him, but with nothing to see. You immediately flinched in instinct and saw the demon behind you, your hands charging the energy and creating a force field so its attack wouldn't reach you. But, knowing how strong the demon is, you were losing balance.

You used all of your force, to be able to make it walk back towards the rock, the demon still protesting.

It was dragging you through it's veil, as it tries to pull you back so it can seal you permanently. So with the help of your amulet powers, you were slowly burning its hands, making them evaporate. The demon's eyes glow brighter, and more violently, pushing you towards the rock.

But midway, before you could bring a more powerful wave, he suddenly vanishes with a demonic screech when someone attacks it from the back. You were shocked but saw that the one who saved you.. was none other than, the cloaked man again. It came running towards you, seeing if you're alright.

"Oh dios mío.. are you okay?" The man checked to see if you were injured, but forgot the injuries, you were more shocked about his sudden arrival.

"Wait a second! Are you following us all the time?!" You cried.

"I came here because I knew it was going to happen, querida!" The cloaked man replied. "The truth is coming closer.. and the devil El Charro Negro will do anything in it's power to stop you."

"I think this was the place where the spirit of the El Charro Negro existed.. and through these writings.. I can't believe there were people who worshipped him too."

"People do find a particular entity divine. Especially when they're supernaturally powered." The cloaked man spoke while he treated your wounds. "And it was enough to drive humanity into its trap so it can find itself a way to survive through human souls."

After it finishes healing you, he gets up and takes a look around the carvings of the devil, while talking to you. "The melody from its guitar.. could make anybody admire him in a matter of seconds, and then, you're a goner. You don't even have a way back. Let it be for falling in love.. or worship him. Only a few.. possess such power where they don't fall for both options. More like, individuals who know the true intentions of the devil, and its plans to threaten human civilization."

The cloaked man turned around, facing you back with a concerned look. "The devil knows you're his ultimate end. And you're going to stop it, once and for all, Y/N."

Hearing the man's words, you sure had many questions in your head, but you wanted to ask him that one doubt. "Do you think.. that Alejandro Vargas is the vessel for the El Charro Negro? Or it's—"

"Y/N!" A voice echoed in the area, hearing arriving footsteps to see Valeria, panting for air, looking absolutely panicked and terrified, with her face and clothes covered in slight dirt.

"Valeria? What happened?"

"We need to get going! Rudy is in trouble!" Valeria said, with her eyebrows furrowed. "If we didn't save him, it'll be too late!"

"But where did you go last time when I saw you both disappear?"

"I don't know.. all I remember is following you, but we unexpectedly lost track all of a sudden and I fell into a large pit. Rudy said that he was going to rescue me, but I heard him scream.. I'm scared that something might have happened to him!" Valeria explained the events that happened to her, feeling worried for what's beyond. "Thank God, I was able to get myself out of the pit and came looking for you."

"I'm glad you're still okay, Valeria." You sighed in relief.

".. but, who is he?" Valeria's attention diverted towards the individual next to you.

"This is the cloaked man, that I used to talk about. I don't know his name, but.. he wears a cloak. That's all." You cleared your throat. "But he knows a way on how to stop the devil."

Valeria came rushing towards him. "Please.. you got to help us."

"I always waited for this moment to come, mujer joven." The cloaked man smiled underneath his shaded appearance. "I'll do whatever it takes to seal the pendejo from hurting anymore people."

"Don't worry, Valeria.. we're going to save him. All this time, he had been saving our lives. But now, we'll return the favor." You smiled, and gave a determined nod, so does the woman in return, and the cloaked man closing his eyes, preparing himself for the moment, as they continue their journey further into the cave.

The camera then switches to a cave painting of the El Charro Negro, in it's full, demonic form, where the rest kept worshipping him.

During the quest, you, Valeria and the cloaked man continued their journey to locate Rudy. For a brief moment, Valeria started to look a little unsettled, that the man with the cloak noticed. "You seem tensed, mi señora."

"Huh? No. I'm just.. not feeling very good. Whatever this is going on.. it's just, messed up. I don't know but, my mind is getting more puzzled and fuzzier." Valeria said in concern. "Alejandro being possessed.. Rudy getting kidnapped. This.. is too much."

"I'm very sure we'll find your friend, señora. The devil won't stand a chance in front of us." The cloaked man tried to encourage Valeria, giving her hope. She held the amulet more closely, gripping it tighter with her hand.

You were listening to Valeria, but your mind kept on constantly flashing over that one scene of Alejandro Vargas getting taken away by the El Charro Negro. You felt a deep pit in your stomach, realising something was wrong. If Rudy is the victim, why would they show Alejandro? And if Alejandro is the real victim.. where is he now?

No.. I think this is just a way to distract or weaken your aim for defeating the devil. But what kept you divided.. was it a way to divert you from the truth.. or was it actually the truth?

Is Alejandro really the El Charro Negro or—

You were brought back to reality when you heard Valeria scream, seeing someone through the distance, who was passed out on the ground. You could sense who it was even being far away..

"Rudy.."

[pequenaotaku]

Hello again~

It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

(I have to confess that I’ve been stalling on getting back to writing and making my posts, but that’s not the point right now…)

Anyway, these are the Leclerc twins, my other precious girls. I ended up keeping the original base (Nina’s model, made by @candysweetposts), but I completely redid the design (I think the only physical thing I kept was the heterochromia, and even that seems like it went from water to wine).

Currently, the twins live in the center of Amoris, as roommates sharing an apartment. But they were born and raised in the countryside, with very traditional and strict parents. And despite that, or maybe because of it, they always attended schools in the city, no matter how long and exhausting the trips were every day. They definitely don’t miss that time at all.

Speaking of nostalgia though… High school was, without a doubt, a very impactful time in their minds, full of drama, discoveries, and teenage hormones. It was at the peak of her 16 years that Lilian discovered and accepted herself as a woman, and also fell in love for the first time. It was at the peak of her 16 years that Louise realized what she wanted to do for the rest of her life as the troublemaker she always was, though secretly.

Going back to the initial train of thought, the two moved back in together after Dante’s life was cut short by that tragic accident. Louise wanted to comfort her sister, to stay as close as possible to help her through her grieving period. Two years later, Lilian discovered, with frustration, that time doesn’t heal any pain, it only softens it. She’s generally doing well, has moved on like anyone else would have, had to piece herself back together, but she’s not thinking of finding someone else to love anytime soon; she still occasionally sees ghosts from the past. They continue to live together because they’ve gotten used to each other’s presence again—it’s fun and makes things lighter.

Lilian Leclerc

She is 30 years old.

She is exactly 7 minutes and 38 seconds older.

She pursues a career as an interior designer at a company that emerged in the field a few years ago called Essence Intérieure (EI).

She is a transgender woman.

She realized she was trans after a prank that happened in high school. It was a themed event where boys had to dress as girls and girls had to dress as boys. In other words, crossdressing. It was something really silly and simple, but after the party, alone in her room while looking at herself in the mirror with a pretty wig and some clothes borrowed from her sister, things started to make sense.

Because they were very traditional, it was a mess when her parents accidentally found out—almost like a war. Louise, who had already talked to her sister after catching her posing in front of the mirror, fought in Lilian’s defense. The two even ran away from home for a week, hiding out in an abandoned building nearby until they were found and dragged back home. Their father, Anton, was so devastated by their disappearance that he realized what was more important, and it didn’t take long for him to try to approach, understand, and accept her, fortunately. Lurdette, their mother, still insists on calling her by her deadname, though. Even though it’s hard to endure, she followed her father’s advice to ignore these slights to avoid big fights until both of them were old enough to leave home properly. In the end, she knows it could have been much worse.

She has a more peaceful, sweeter personality. Sometimes, she spends too much time lost in her own little world, but she’s very dedicated, persistent, and has a good touch with people.

She’s always had a melancholic look, whether before or after her mourning. At the same time, her heterochromia always gave her a different kind of glow. Dante used to call her Lys Stellaire, or Stellar Lily, because it seemed like her eyes held the cold beauty of sideral space, and that was the first thing he fell in love with.

She loves soft, light colors like baby pink and baby blue, egg-yolk yellow, but mostly white.

She does gardening in her free time; in fact, she’s not sure if she loves the flowers or the bees more.

Speaking of animals, when Dante was killed, one of her concerns was who would take care of his two pets, Nova and Nebula. At the time, the couple lived together, so she was already used to the two snakes, although she wasn’t the one responsible for feeding them, cleaning the terrarium, helping with shedding, etc. She had never had much courage for that, being afraid of getting bitten even though she knew they were tame and non-venomous. However, after what happened, she forced herself to learn everything she needed to be a good caretaker. She was sure that if Colette, her sister-in-law, became the new caretaker, she’d do a good job too, but she didn’t want the snakes to go through the stress of a new routine. Honestly, she has no idea how a snake’s emotional state works, or even if they have one, but she likes to think that every now and then, they wonder where their dad is and miss him.

As mentioned before, Lilian and Colette grew much closer after the tragedy. Colette really sees her as an older sister. She makes a point of visiting her practically every weekend, and they always have video calls to gossip about the strange customers she’s dealt with at the record store. Very specific, I know.

Louise Leclerc

She is 30 years old.

She is exactly 7 minutes and 38 seconds younger.

She works doing odd jobs, mostly as a hobby, because she loves trying new things. She’s been a pizza delivery girl, an aspiring doll stylist, a waterslide tester, a fortune cookie writer, a Zumba teacher, a skydiving instructor, and many other exotic jobs like that. But in reality, she’s an ethical hacker by passion. She works within the law, as strange or curious as that might seem. She basically mitigates company vulnerabilities, investigates incidents, and develops secure software for computer systems, networks, and applications. A bit of boring office work sometimes—why not?

Unlike her sister, she has a more chaotic and bold personality, always trying out new things. She’s extroverted, communicative, and often quarrelsome.

She loves dressing in things that reference the '80s for some reason. Brighter colors, exaggerated accessories, a much more extravagant fashion, but adapted to modern times. She even likes to say that those who criticize '80s fashion lack a distinctive artistic sense.

She loves summer, loves organizing trips to the beach with the most important people in her life, and enjoys building sandcastles.

She drives a Beetle.

She’s a very free-spirited person and has had several flings, but no serious relationships in recent years. She’s quite happy with that, for now.

She would love to have a dog, specifically a Labrador, but unfortunately, she’s allergic to animal fur.

Out of curiosity, here is the prototype of the twins before the renovation as a bonus.

[greenboyfriend]

pick an image!

source all of the images depict iris agate slices. image 1: the first gem features a holographic exterior, with a tougher, grittier interior- cut open like a donut. image 2: the second gem has a holographic lining as well, though has a rougher cut. the middle section looks like the raging sea. image 3: the final gem blends together rainbow hues into a finite zone of emptiness in the middle... like a donut.

.・。.・゜✭

you may be feeling more reserved, or less willing to pursue a goal. maybe you've spent too much time looking inwards that you've lost sight of the world around you, specifically in a new craft/skill you'd like to develop. it happens! with the amount of work you're handling, it's not like anyone could blame you, though you may be doing things the hard way. is it time to just say no? on the inside, you can be nurturing, generous and unselfish, but closing yourself off rescinds these abilities. you might even see this craft/skill as being a drag, maybe you're being held accountable for something, but the essence of the queen of pentacles should guide you through this time. on top of being welcoming and kind, she is also very resourceful, and can make a little go a long way. she always keeps her promises & loyalties, and if you need someone's help, she's who you call. apply her methods to how you may think or feel; for example, do you consider yourself reliable? have you been kind towards others and yourself lately? throw yourself entirely into her energy, and expect results.

(8 of pentacles reversed, 4 of cups, 10 of wands reversed, queen of pentacles)

2. .・。.・゜✭

you've been working hard!!! maybe even too hard, actually. sticking to the tried and true method has made you blind to new developments that might make your dreams reality. you're being pessimistic, dooming your current project before it's even really started to grow! you need to be flexible- not everything has to be absolutely perfect. sometimes the tools at hand are exactly what you need. you have the means and the drive to make what you want, this is just another challenge you must overcome. try to focus only on what heeds real results. remember to stay true to your word, slowly building up credibility in the long term. finally, try to have fun!! not everything has to be just work. see the humor in your situation and think of ways to make working more enjoyable for you!

(2 of pentacles reversed, knight of pentacles reversed, page of pentacles reversed. a lot of pentacles!!!)

3. .・。.・゜✭

well, lucky you. you got some crazy cards! there is a need for balance between an aspect of the self- daringness, attractiveness, self assuredness- and some sort of connection. depending on your situation, one component is stifling or otherwise affecting the other. you must recognize both sides of this coin; what has this connection taught you about your own sense of self confidence? or, conversely, would being daring & tackling what others avoid bring change to this connection? there is also the distinct feeling of healing associated with temperance in the middle of these two. maybe a past connection has left you feeling less self assured lately. how can you bring these two things together? the sun offers you direction. seek enlightenment, whether that be getting to the bottom of this situation or having an intellectual breakthrough. do so with all the enthusiasm & confidence you have; you need to honor your true self. trust yourself. this has the potential for wonderful results!

(knight of wands reversed, temperance, 2 of cups reversed, the sun reversed)

have any questions? send me a message or an ask! thanks for reading :)

[688199]

marinette is FAR from being a “normal girl, with a normal life” (general criticism, and analysis of the location concept art)

pardon any mistakes, this is a rant post lmaoo

first and foremost, she is the daughter of paris’s most popular bakery. everyone knows it. and it's not loved the same way a long time neighbourhood bakery is loved. sleek high class interior design, like i bet a simple croissant costs 4 euros or smth.

now how about the earlier bakery design?

cluttered, lots of bread stacked everywhere, but it coneys well their love for baking. wonder why those "run down eating places" are always the one that have the greatest tasting food? it's because their heart is in cooking the meal. tbh, reminds me of the bakery in kikis delivery service actually. and why does these two bakeries feel so much nicer despite being so simple looking? because you can feel the hardwork (oh and the brown is a true vibe). full offence but the neatness of the current bakery feels like its a corporate business.

two, while she goes to a public school, it’s like the kids of all the most rich and famous citizens of paris are gathered there. adrien, model and son of renowned fashion designer. chloe, daughter of the mayor. juleka, daughter of famous rock star, alix, daughter of historian at louvre. mylene, daughter of a leading mine performer that had his posters plastered everywhere. that’s like just some of i remember. definitely not normal. unfortunately no concept art of the school. but knowing that the PV did reference marinette's bedroom, im going to assume the school design existed as a brief sketch.

this seems like a classy, rich college, same like the current one. but the design is better, imo, looks more school-ish. and third, it’s so clear that marinette is super rich. like man what the hell that room is thrice the size of mine. yet it lacks so much personality. what does this tell us about her? she likes pink. i seriously cannot find anything here that stands out to me.

this is why i much prefer the concept art locations. at least they look sort of middle class. it also gives marinette a “cozy” vibe, and someone who makes the best out of a given situation.

marinette is given the attic room. lots of beams, not very well furnished. yet she takes advantage of a seemingly bad room by using the beams to place boxes and toys. she also uses cloth to decorate the place, showing her appreciation of cloth design. it’s small, but has character, compared to marinette’s pink spacious room that’s a mess to look at.

furthermore the rooftop clearly isn’t meant to be used like that. but she adds little features to it, such as a simplistic bird house, wood planks to allow an even surface to place stuff/ sit, and a tent tied down by random pink strings and ribbons. it shows how she’s adaptable, creative and caring (bird house). plus it alludes to a sense of defiance and her “wanting to take a break”.

on the other hand, the current (it’s not even called a rooftop it’s called a balcony) is in big open space, smack right in front of the eifel tower, nicely floored with a proper fence and proper table for teapot. nothing here is "make shift" like the previous design. even if marinette did spend time making this place nice, how can we tell? there's nothing that hints to us that she worked on it. it doesn’t convey anything about marinette to us anymore, other than: “oh holy shit she's pretty rich”.

even this even earlier design is simple, but still says more about marinette than the current balcony. she carried her teapot all the way up there even though it's insanely difficult to. this tells us she's willing to put extra effort into things.

you could say im looking too deep into things. but i really am not. people fail to understand that even art, animation and film, every little detail, no matter how small, is important and should tell us the personality of the character.

with all the choices made in the series, how could you convince anyone that marinette is supposed to be normal? the whole concept of marinette and ladybug is that she looks average on the surface, but is capable of being a superhero due to all these favourable character traits of hers that tend to be overlooked. marinette dupain cheng? writers can't even make her look average for gods sake. from her appearance (stereotypically good-looking instead of charmingly cute, there's a difference), and her life in general (blessed with all the chances in the world that basically spoon feeds her her dream).

its exactly like those famous hollywood stars saying how much they suffered before they could succeed. except they were rich from the start with famous parents.

[dustedmagazine]

Slept Ons: 2023

Reverend Kristin Michael Hayter

If you write for Dusted, you listen to music all the time and you try, at least within your general area of interest, to stay current with what’s current. Ask any of our significant others, and they’ll say we listen to too much music, to which we inevitably reply “What’s that, this ‘too much’ you speak of?” We listen to music while we’re eating, while we’re working, while we’re exercising, while we’re driving from one place to another, even while we’re brushing our teeth sometimes; though, admittedly, the sound quality is not that great in the bathroom.

Even so, we miss things. Here, in what has become an annual tradition, we revisit some of the albums that slipped away in one fashion or another, the ones that we kept putting off until it was too late, the ones we somehow didn’t catch wind of until well into January, the ones we discovered tardily on other people’s lists and year-end podcasts and radio shows. So here are our late finds, a favorite or two each that we never got the chance to write about. Fortunately, unlike bread and fresh fruit and bunches of cilantro, albums don’t go bad if you let them sit for a while.

Die Enttäuschung und Alexander Von Schlippenbach — Monk’s Casino Live At Au Topsi Pohl (Two Nineteen)

This record wasn’t so much slept on as patiently sleuthed. Die Enttäuschung, the long-running German quartet (their name translates as The Disappointment, an appellation that says more about their sense of humor than the quality of their ever-buoyant reimagining of bebop and early free jazz) started selling it at gigs in the spring of 2023. I bided my time, and when I made it to Berlin last fall, scoring a copy was on my agenda. To this day, the record and the internet are near strangers; while you can buy it from Bandcamp, there’s no download, streaming or videos. So, you’ll have to just take it from me that Die Enttäuschung’s reunion with now-octogenarian pianist Alexander von Schlippenbach will take wrinkles off your brow. The first time that these musicians recorded together as Monk’s Casino, back in 2005, they performed every one of Thelonious Monk’s compositions over three CDs; pith was essential. The repertoire hasn’t changed this time, but the approach is looser. Crammed into the intimate confines of the now-shuttered Au Topsi Pohl just as Omicron started ruining parties, the five musicians goose the tempos, spike the solos with impertinence, and veer around Monk’s sharp angles with a combination of intimate familiarity and belt-busting abandon.

Bill Meyer

Reverend Kristin Michael Hayter — SAVED! (Perpetual Flame Ministries)

Not slept on so much as avoided— and why, at this point I am not entirely sure. When I saw Kristin Hayter perform under her previous Lingua Ignota moniker back in December of 2022, she opened with a set of devotional songs on piano, a variety of metallic objects set and chains draped across the instrument’s interior string works. It was extraordinary, and SAVED! features the same basic set of raw, austere elements: that prepared piano, Hayter’s remarkable voice and the problematics of faith. The avoidance may stem from my own fraught relations to the sort of grim Protestantism Hayter reimagines; I spend some time around fire-and-brimstone Baptism as a child, and it left a mark on me. She wove some of that language and those textures into the excellent Lingua Ignota record Sinner Get Ready, but there they were much more symbolic, and largely couched in specific fundamentalisms (Amish and Mennonite) that distanced them somewhat. The sounds and spiritual gestures on SAVED! are a good deal more familiar to me, and they haunt. Likely the haunting is the point. Certainly “All of My Friends Are Going to Hell” and “I Know His Blood Can Make Me Whole” smolder and then burn with varieties of hellfire I have smelled before. One can also hear those songs more metaphorically, and “I Will Be with You Always” (the best thing on the record) is replete with images and intensities that call to multiple levels of meaning, simultaneously and sublimely. SAVED! is a hard record for me to listen to, and that’s why I have come, somewhat belatedly, to prize it so highly.

Jonathan Shaw

Illusion of Safety — Pastoral (Korm Plastics)

Daniel Burke has been carefully and consistently nurturing his Illusion of Safety project for 40 years, and I’ve been embarrassingly ignorant of the output until now. Burke released multiple audio artifacts in 2023, including a 40th anniversary ten-cassette box set, so choosing a single album to write about for the Slept On column was a daunting undertaking. Pastoral is unique in that it shows off a more delicate and expansive side of the Illusion of Safety oeuvre. It’s also one of the few music-focused objects that the stalwart Korm Plastics label has released in years; the imprint focuses on the written word these days. Sonically, Burke has established a series of vignettes that follow a similar pattern. The music flows from short, sharp attacks into lengthy sustained quietude. Burke unleashes his jarring, frantic salvos both percussively and synthetically, and these brief but unsettling periods morph into slowly churning drone swarms. Given that this is just one example of Burke’s sonic vernacular, I’m excited to hear more. Thankfully, when it comes to Illusion of Safety, I’ve been a veritable Rip Van Winkle.

Bryon Hayes

Malla — Fresko (Solina)

So slept on was Malla Malmivaara’s second solo album that even the normally reliable Beehype missed it, but even if you did happen to notice its inclusion on my midyear list, overstating how well-crafted and immersive Fresko’s dance-pop tracks are is hard to do. It makes sense given she’s better known for her acting career, but Malla’s been in the Finnish music game for a long time, too — first in the short-lived mid-aughts house trio Elisabeth Underground, then as herself with 2019’s “Sabrina” single (which got a Jori Hulkkonen remix, a guy who once redid M83) that ended up paving the way for her self-titled 2021 debut full-length. Despite using similar synth arpeggios and a healthy dose of vocal reverb as she did on Malla, Fresko is a little bit darker, moodier, more down in it. Lead single “Moi” (“hi” in English) tells the tale, its perfectly crafted video full of young Rolf Ekroth models doing things like looking impossibly cool in ridiculous outfits and having fashion shows with ATVs in snowy back alley Helsinki parking lots are a perfect marriage of audio and video, images and a melody burned in my brain the moment I saw it. It is very much a dance record flush with tech-house tweaks and no grander artistic ambitions, but Malla’s barely crested 40; now that she’s pledged more time to her music career, it’s entirely possible Fresko is but a warmup for something bolder — and even if it’s not, you could do much worse than a third album full of body movers like this. Hi is right.

Patrick Masterson

Kevin Richard Martin – Black (Intercranial)

Ostensibly a eulogy to Amy Winehouse, Kevin Richard Martin’s Black is a deeply humane expression of isolation, loss and grief. Built from the ground up, the bass deep and warm, swathes of glacial arpeggiated synths and beats that hint at the club. Notes echo and ripple away to create silhouettes of solitude, a tangible manifestation of absence. Despite the deep weight of his music, Martin imbues Black with an incredible delicacy. His abstract architecture allows the mind to roam and the listener to connect with emotional truths. It’s the balance Martin finds between the particular and universal that gives Black it’s power. In the strutting bassline of “Camden Crawling” smeared with narco/alcoholic fuzz, the looming threat of “Blake’s Shadow” and the bleary saxophone in “Belgrade Meltdown” there are the faintest echoes of Winehouse’s sound which emerge from the depths of Martin’s echo chambers. A work of terrible sadness, great beauty, empathy and comfort.

Andrew Forell

Derek Monypeny — Cibola (2182 Recording Company)

Cibola eased into the world as 2022 turned into 2023, but it took me nearly a year to get to it. Monypeny is a confirmed westerner, having lived in Arizona, Oregon, and (currently) the California desert, and an awareness of both the wrongfulness and the good fortune of living in that neck of the woods infuses Cibola, which is named for one of the American southwest’s legendary cities of gold (helpful hint; if you ever encounter a conquistador looking for gold, tell them it’s somewhere else). Monypeny alternates between guitar, shahi baaja, and on electric autoharp the LP’s seven tracks, and Kevin Corcoran contributes time-stopping metal percussion to one of them. The music likewise toggles between stark evocations of space and swirling submersions into nether states. In either mode, Monypeny effectively suggests the gorgeous immensity and pitiless history of the land around him.

Bill Meyer

The Sundae Painters — S-T (Flying Nun)

One minute, The Sundae Painters are churning wild screes of noisy guitar, the next they construct airy psychedelic pop songs of a rare unstudied grace. The band is a super group of sorts — Paul Kean and Kaye Woodward of the Bats, Alex Bathgate of the Tall Dwarfs and the late Hamish Kilgour of the Clean — convening in loose-limbed, joyful mayhem in songs that glisten and shimmer and roar. “Hollow Way” roils thick, muddy textures of drone up from the bottom, the slippery bent notes of sitar (that’s Bathgate) and Woodward’s diaphanous vocals floating free of a visceral murk. “Aversion” lets unhinged guitar shards fly over the thump of grounding drums as Kilgour chants inscrutable poetry. The two HAP tracks, I and II, stretch out in locked-in, psychotropic grooves, relentless forward motion somehow dissolving into an endless ecstatic now. This full-length, sadly the only one we’ll ever have from the Sundae Painters now that Kilgour is gone, is as good as anything that its esteemed participants ever did in their more famous bands, and that’s saying a lot.

Jennifer Kelly

U SCO — Catchin’ Heat (Self Released)

Here’s the extent of what I currently know: Someone I have on Facebook posted a link to it as one of his favorite records of the year, and someone I don’t know responded that they bought a copy of the cassette before the first track even finished. U SCO are Jon Scheid (bass), Ryan Miller (guitar), and Phil Cleary (Drums) and they are from and/or based in Portland Oregon. According to Discogs and Bandcamp Catchin’ Heat is the first thing they’ve released since 2016. That’s it! I started listened to this with the same box-checking, due diligence energy I tend to have for the dozen or so records I hear about one way or another after I’ve already done my year-end writing; most of them, every year, I don’t even make it through one play (the fatigue has fully set in by this point in the process). But sure enough before the end of that first track, I knew this was going to have to be the record I slept on. It’s perfectly structured, with extra-long, absolute blowouts beginning and ending the record, the second and second-last tracks being the two shortest and the only moments of relative calm, and the middle two making up a strong core that both brings in some elements not found elsewhere on Catchin’ Heat (the vocals on “trrrem”) and is just the most straightforward version of the absolute burners U SCO can clearly summon up on command (“woe dimension”). As great and arresting as that opening track is, though, the closing “abyssal hymn” might be the real highlight here, bringing in clarinet and saxophone to add a whole new layer of skronk to what they’re cooking. I’ve listened to this record about 10 times in a couple of days, and they deserve to sell out of that run of cassettes.

Ian Mathers

[spirit-x-ing]

@magaprima

CONT. from X

Whoever it was that had taken over this house might not be paranoid as Lorelai suggested, but he was certainly guarded. To a curious degree. Lilith had rarely seen such determination to keep everything out, even in the depths of Hell. Whether he had cast these barriers himself or had found someone to do the bidding for him was a question Lilith desired answered for several reasons, but what also begged her interest was his reasons; keeping something out or keeping something in?

Opting to simply open the door the normal way rather than magic herself inside, Lilith examined the door even as she picked the lock with a subtle twirl of her fingers, before turning her attention to the rest of the house. The relatively traditional picturesque home, its entire aesthetic, didn’t hold her attention in the same way it evidently held Lorelai’s; Lilith didn’t have any personal stake in this residence, only a…justified curiosity in its current owner.

Standing at the base of the stairs, she silently watched as the girl wandered off, enthusiasm lacing every word as she took a nostalgic trip down a lane of distant yet familiar memories, betraying her excitement at being here. Leaving Lorelai to examine the kitchen, and doubtless the fridge, Lilith turned to walk up the stairs, her scarlet nailed hands trailing long the bannister as she took each step at a leisurely pace, examining the walls as she did so.

Her hands continued to trail along the wall as she reached the upper landing, her palm tracing the wallpapers and framed painting and photos. She paused at a picture frame, and seeing that it was the identity of the current resident, she snapped her fingers and the frame was suddenly empty, the photo now in her hand.

Continuing on, she peered through this door and that until she found the one she was looking for.

“Perfect….” She murmured to herself as she pushed open the door to the main bedroom. It was the one place that everyone kept their secrets, the parts of their personality that they…reserved for their own privacy. Smiling with eager determination, she entered the room confidently, her hands yet again trailing over everything, getting a sense to everything she touched. Whoever it was that had cast those barriers spent a great amount of time in this room; the identity simply…hidden between the trinkets.

She bit her lip, moving towards the closets just as felt the presence of Lorelai nearby. Turning to look at the girl, she held out the photo. “The new residents, including your…little over-cautious caster.”

She climbed the stairs albeit loudly as she paused for a moment. The creaks that came from the house were her own. She listened a bit more. The house was much quieter than it was. No other spirits or entities were nearby. This was much different than she remembered. She was haunted, tortured by the numerous spirits and, she was now sure demons, coming and going. Sleep only came when her body could no longer shed anymore tears before shutting down.

She continued on as she looked around. The home looked very much the same and that irritated her. Triggering upsetting memories from her time here. Her mother's room was up ahead to the right. Her brother's right next to her mother's. She finally kept walking, her Grandmother's was on the left as she turned her head and realized it was already open. Lorelai stepped in and looked around. The interior here was different, updated to a degree, though once again some things lingered and it made her wonder if the person who bought this house bought the furniture with it.

She sighed making her way towards Lilith as she presented a picture. She gazed down upon it. The guy looked regal-like. A bit stuck or confident. He was pretty attractive overall. ❝Yep,❞ she replied with a pop of her lips. She nodded in agreement with Lilith's discernment. ❝I can sense his energy here...❞ she passed sniffing a bit ❝And his cologne?❞ she said perking a brow with a smirk. It smelt good. She looked around once more. ❝This was once my Grandmother's room,❞ she voiced nearing by the same bed. ❝That room over there, her bathroom...here was a nursery," she said making her way toward another door and opening it. ❝Oh...and now it's a walk-in closet,❞ she said with a small chuckle. She walked in to explore. It was a nice walk-in closet, with typical drawers, organizers, and lots of suits. ❝Eh....all business,❞ she replied looking over the various suits he had hanging.

Lorelai sighed with a huff. ❝I'm starting to gander that if this guy does work the magic it's not really at his home," she said with a shrug walking back out. She paused, calming, looking around a bit more, admiring the detailed carved ceiling panels. Those were new. ❝My room was in the attic,❞ she whispered remembering. Lorelai tilted her head before crossing over and floating upwards towards the attic.

Lorelai floated up to the attic as she paused. It was dark and most of the windows that lit her room were closed with shutters. It was also dusty and full of random stuff. ❝Geeze, obviously Mr. Hotshot lawyer does not come up here often!❞ Lorelai complained as dust floated about with the small rays of sun that managed to sneak in. She looked around more familiar stuff! ❝Heh,❞ she said a bit happily, feeling she may be able to find something of her family here.

She looked around before noticing a familiar trunk with brass buttons and a very old key lock. It was her grandmother's trunk. She scoffed out a sigh before falling to her knees. ❝It's still here❞" she whispered to herself. Lorelai's hands glossed over it lightly as she tried to ghost through it but couldn't. ❝Huh,❞ she let out a bit surprised in a mock-like challenge. She tried again as she tried to reach in and grab something or at least unlock it but it burned this time. ❝Ah!❞ she let out pulling her hand back before shaking her hand. ❝Lilith! I think I found something!❞ she bellowed suddenly hoping she can help her out and unlock it quickly.

[animehouse-moe]

Frieren: Beyond Journey's End Episode 1 - Lots To Take In

Bit of a crossroads here with Frieren for me. I'm a huge fan of Satiou's work, and I love Madhouse when they're at their best. But I'm rather critical of some of the aspects of Frieren and it's somewhat overblown popularity. That said, there wasn't any way I was going to miss out on this insane 2 hour special episode, and it's left me with a lot to talk about! Considering the insane length of 2 hours though, I'll try to keep it as short as possible.

Alright, first things first, it's just downright beautiful. The environment art is nothing short of incredible and is a huge upgrade over the manga. People talk about Frieren's art being "beautiful", and I can agree that the characters and some of the environments can be really pretty, but I never really thought of them in the way others did. But with the anime, I see it now. The incredible beauty on display, especially with the dedication to detail and beauty with interiors and buildings.

Next on the list is colors, or I guess direction (?) as Saitou really likes using the sky to apply negative space for monologuing with characters. A really interesting idea that works great, but one that I was surprised to see considering how little we see of Saitou's interest/penchant for faceless characters. Of course, you'll see faceless background characters but never any of the leads.

How about animation, then? It's interesting. It's not really anything that will make you marvel unless you're looking for it. The big moments are there from time to time, but by and far the focus is on providing detail for everything, even the smallest moments. A little seed rat running around, or the splash from a shot hitting a puddle. Character acting benefits from this detail a great deal, and is the most important piece in the sense of animation. Just look at this sequence. Incredibly simple, but also incredibly important as it gives viewers something to understand the characters by. It's not just the words of Himmel that are extravagant, it's his movements as well. Heiter isn't just an alcoholic, but the kind of guy that struggles to be serious. Then there's Eisen and Frieren, both of which are denoted by their distant and stiff interaction during the conversation. It's a piece that was sorely missing from the manga, the ability to connect with these characters in the present, as a viewer. To better understand their personality and get more time to feel out how they act.

Time, that's a good segue. The pacing in this special is phenomenal. I will always, always talk about how newer mangaka tend to try and rush things to get their points across, attempting to speed along to deliver the punchline or reveal. Frieren is somewhat similar in that regard as the manga wastes no time going through the motions. Here though, we have 4 episodes worth of content, or a little over an hour and a half. That covers the first volume and 3 pages at most. To put it in perspective, most anime will adapt about 5 or 6 volumes of manga in a 12 episode season. At Frieren's current pace, it'll adapt 3 volumes in 12 episodes worth of content. And that's what it needs, the time and space the explore itself, to further flesh out, examine, and understand the world and its characters. A great example is Himmel's funeral. It removes the stone-faced Frieren crying scene and replaces it with something far more drawn out, something far deeper. It's not the fact that Himmel died that upsets Frieren, it's the fact that he's gone and she can't learn anything more about him. The fact that he is buried in the ground and will not be able to answer her questions or spend more time with her. It's a far stronger and more emotional depiction of the sequence than the manga.

However, not everything is as perfect as I wished for it to be. The past is the main focus of Frieren, though I suppose its intended goal is to highlight the importance of the present through the past, but the manga's approach denies that facet of the narrative. It's flashback central where it uses Frieren's previous journey to contextualize and explain everything.

And this is where one of the best changes actually happens. Heiter recants the story of finding a young Fern all alone and on her own, where he talks about how it was Himmel that inspired him to take her in. In the manga, it launches into a flashback where Heiter idealizes Himmel, but I'm so very glad that the staff behind the sequence understood the potential better. Instead of the flashback of Himmel, it focuses on Heiter's self-deprecation using Himmel as a comparison. How who he is is weaker than Himmel. And that because of that, he feels the need to try and be more like him now that he's gone. It's not "the immortal Himmel is the greatest person ever", it's "the man that was better than me in every way is gone now. I feel worse for it, so I want to follow in his footsteps.". Also, very cool little piece of direction that draws viewers towards the conclusion that Heiter himself detests his own drinking habits (and that Fern is most likely why he stopped drinking).

Like I said earlier though, this is both the best change and an outlier. The further in the story continues, the more it normalizes towards the manga. The pacing is still great, but the flashbacks increase in frequency and duration past this point. Which is disappointing because of what the past is.

It's the past. It's immutable, impossible to change or experience once more. It's ever distant and fleeting, but equally so close and memorable. The amount of flashbacks ruins the delicacy of that past. It's no longer something lost, no longer something that cannot be seen again. And it feels like a waste. What's the point in the past being the past if it's featured so often in the present?

Perhaps the most frustrating example comes from episode 3 where Frieren and Fern are having a fancy dinner and musing over what to choose for dessert. Fern makes an assumption that Himmel had made in the past, so we launch into a flashback about Frieren not knowing people. The sentiment behind the story is valid and important, but the execution is painful.

The words overlap, the sentiment and importance does as well. Why then, would you not explore the potential of layering past over present to have Frieren address Fern as well as Himmel to show how she's growing from her past and current experiences?

To summarize in broad terms, the inclusion of the past isn't bold enough. It's plain, and that plainness is, well, plain to see. It drags things down and weighs on viewers and the flow of the story (not to be confused with pace).

And that's where I end my commentary. Madhouse and Saitou are doing some truly incredible visual work, and showing they have the potential and ability to take the manga and make everything better. However, at times they lack the boldness and confidence to tackle some tougher concepts. We've got a whole lot of time with this series though so I'm very excited to see what they attempt to do with it.

[diamondcrownacademy]

DCA Info Part 58: Dorm Fairy Redesigns (Part 1)

View Part 2

Phoenix decided to change the Dorm fairies appearances to fit with her new art style and felt like their initial designs looked unappealing and a not quite diverse in terms of original design for fairies.

🍎 Applette

Original Applette: Initially, Applette appeared as small fairy with cream colored skin, blackish blue hair styled in a blunt bob cut with bangs, blue eyes, and red blush. She has pale lime green wings shaped to look like leaves.

Her dress consists of a dark blue bodice with a white collar with a red interior. Her peplum is the same blue shade, have red details and take up the upper and mid sections of her skirt. Her skirt on the other hand is a solid yellow in color.

Applette accessorizes with a gold crown with rounded arches with a glossy red apple inside of it with a green stem.

Current Applette: While on initial glance, it appears that little has changed in Applette's new design, however, there are a few differences. Applette's overall new appearance looks more glossy, her eyes are now a lighter blue, a red bow tie on her dress's bodice and the bottom half of her dress is now gold in color and resembles the lower half of an apple.

👠 Bumpkin

Original Bumpkin: Initially, Bumpkin appeared as a small pastel yellow fairy with dark blue eyes and side swept pastel tangerine hair. She additionally has green leaves and a stem attached to her head. Bumpkin's wings are light blue in color and appear to have sideways facing hearts in them.

Bumpkin's dress is light blue in color and bears a resemblance to the dress Cinderella wore in the original 1950 film, with the exception that it has the color palette used for merchandise. The dress consists of an ombre v neckline bodice, puff sleeves, a two layered skirt with the top layer being transparent and sparkly, while the bottom layer is a solid blue.

Bumpkin accessorizes with a hat that resembles a pumpkin, with the green stem shaped like a crown.

Current Bumpkin: Bumpkin's new design now resembles that of a princess doll, in the context of the series, it makes sense since her current appearance is said to be modeled after Ella's cherished childhood doll. Bumpkin's skin now looks more pale yellow in color and her hair is now a slightly darker in color and is much more curler than before, her wings are now white are resemble angel wings, her dress now features a light blue capelet with a blue heart brooch and white trim, the skirt's top layer retains it transparency and sparkly qualities but it is now dark blue with light blue sparkles.

🐰 Sui

Original Sui: Initially, Sui appeared as a small fairy with pale pink skin, purple eyes with pink heart-shaped pupils, blonde hair with swirled bangs and violet wings that resemble angel wings with a swirl in them.

Sui wears an indigo bonnet with the inside being pink and a purple ribbon wrapped around the bonnet. She also wears an indigo shawl held together with a violet ribbon.

Sui's lower half appears to be connected to a teapot. The teapot is white in color with the top part having a blue rounded arch detailing and with in the blue part are a red heart, black spade, red diamond and a black clover. The teapot also has a gold handle, spout, bottom and cut where the lid would be.

Current Sui: Sui's new design now features both a full body image of her, as well as her in her new teapot. Both her bonnet and dress are now purple and the ribbon on her bonnet now resembles that of bunny ears. With Sui's new full body appearance, we are now able to see her footwear, which consists of a pair of white boots. Sui's new teapot is now light blue with various dark blue details and resembles an elephant.

🌹 Willow

Original Willow: Initially, Willow appeared as a small fairy with light pink skin, pink blush, magenta eyes and straight dusty beige hair with blunt bangs. Her wings are white in color and bear a resemblance to Florence, Faustus and Asher's wings and to an extent Flora, Fauna and Merryweather's wings.

Willow wears a red bodice and bustle with the skirt being salmon in color. She also wears a cape that has a red exterior and pale yellow interior.

Willow also wears a red pointy hat and a hat veil with a ribbon on it that is pale yellow in color.

Current Willow: Willow's new design now bears a striking resemblance to Flora, the leader of the Three Good Fairies who wears red. The changes include Willow's hair now being styled with curled bangs, her white wings now resemble insect wings and her hat now has a pink rose on it.

🐠 Marina

Original Marina: Initially, Marina appeared as a small fairy with pale lavender skin, violet eyes, wavy lavender hair and pale pink wings that resemble shells.

Marina wears a two layered ruffled dress, with the top layer being white that fades to a grayish mauve and the second layer also being white but it fades to a grayish purple. Marina accessories with a silver pearl necklace with a large pink pearl in the center and a pink crown made of sea cones.

Marina additionally appears to be connected to a shell with a pink exterior and yellow interior.

Current Marina: Marina's new design looks similar to her Classic one with a few changes. Her dress now has it's bodice resemble a shell and the skirt is now much more flowy and features various pink pearls throughout. Her crown is also slightly taller.

Trivia

• Sui's design is based on the oysters.

• Marina sitting in her shell is possibly a reference to the opening performance in The Little Mermaid.