#I should start doing better and draw them more often. Though no promises

[ohitslen]

Millymeryl eheh :)

Just one more.

[thebottomfromhell]

wait: you the moment Muzan was asking that person if they looked sickly? before he killed them I mean what if, that happened again with someone else(reader, perhaps?) but they end up being blind (and he didn't know until reader subtly points it out)? like he asks and reader says 'I'm not sure what you're asking, but you sound pretty healthy.' all genuine smiles and all

I would change the scene a bit for it to make sense, but Muzan encountering blind reader is a lovely idea.

So, also I did this one before others I still owe cuz I'm literally sick, and I always become lazy when sick, and it was the one I needed to think the least. I should feel better by Monday, but I wanted to keep the promise of 2 post per week.

Muzan encounters GN Blind Reader in the scene of the alley

Warnings: Mentioned non-character human death, Implied life-threat to reader and Open ending.

You were born blind. Your mother more often than not said you cried a lot, both as a baby and as a toddler, scared, because you couldn't see anything. The second you didn't have someone touching you you feared you got lost or abandoned, so you cried. You stopped crying when you started to grow up, thankfully your parents were quite wealthy, so you never had problems with being sustained, even if with your current condition living a normal life, like getting a job and starting a family, is harder than normal.

You never let that bother you, though. Also, your other senses do help you around a lot. You can hear, smell and touch your way through most places, so as long as you have your loyal can, you are more than fine. This night, you can sense due the lack of sun rays in your skin, is a busy one. You don't even know what took you so long, since you were only buying some sweets in a shop you go a lot. Since the woman that makes the sweets knows about your condition, sometimes she sneaks some more samples, thinking you don't realize the rations are bigger than normal. Still, it's an endearing gesture.

But the crowd tonight is making it harder to go home, it's too loud and full tonight, so using the temperature of the walls you guide yourself to an alley, there the stones are colder since they didn't get the sun's heat during the day. Then... there is a scent of blood. You know how it smells, since you were little you were able to recognize your mother's periods to the smell in the kitchen when the cooks are cutting the meat. But in those times the smell was diluted, but now it's strong, pungent. Is someone bleeding out? Should you call for help?

No, if it's so bad, it's probably a murder in the alley, if you draw the attention to yourself you might be the next victim, so you make the best to calm yourself. You are blind, so as long as you pretend to be oblivious to what is going on, you might have a chance to flee. You have done this before, not with MURDER, but you have had your fair share of stories of finding people having sex in alleys, and pretending to not know.

"What are you doing standing there like a freak? Can't you see what is going on?" Says a voice, it's rather sweet and soft, clearly manly, you would dare to bet it's a healthy man from his twenties to his mid thirties. In any other situation, you might have even been smitten by the voice. But now.... "No sir, as you might have realized... I can't see. Did I interrupt on something?" You ask, trying your best to keep your nerves under control. You hear steps, shoes with platforms from the west? Is the murder someone wealthy? They are comming towards you. And you know it's not the victim. The victim would beg, run, shove you to scape... not walk calmly towards you.

You move your staff on the ground, making little hits from side to side, hoping it will make this person keep it's lenght as distance. He stops when you hear the edge hit his leg. You stop the movement. "Scaping the crowd, huh? Seems we are not so different from one another. I'm sorry for my tone earlier, I needed some time alone, the city can be upseting at times." Before he sounded as if he was containing his anger, but now... it's gentle, even nice. You can feel hands, not so big or thick, but very strong, in your shoulders, as he guides you to turn around back to the streets. "This alley is infested by pests, let me help you in the way out. Let's go sit somewehre else." You let him, because you are afraid of what he will do if you don't.

You do relax in the crowd for once, though, since is improbable he will do anything to you in front of other but... no one is reacting. Shouldn't he be covered in blood? Then again, he doesn't feel wet, even id the faint smell is still there. Also, he moves you gently, making sure you don't trip or bump into anyone or anything, constantly telling your the name of the streets you are going and describing them for you to know where you are, more or less. He is precise, you know exactly how to go home from here. Part of you wonders if you should tell the authorities, but... would they believe you?

"Here. Here we should be able to rest." You both sit on a bench, there is something off about this man, but you don't know what. "So, what is your name? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." You nerviously grip tight the bag where you have your sweets, not knowing how to react. "Y/N...." you answer, if only to be polite. "Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you. Do you live nearby? Have anyone who is supposed to pick you up?" You don't give the exact location, but you asnwer "I live near by. With your descriptions I should be able to get home from here by my own."

"Is it really? Then, I have other matters to answer to, so I will stop keeping you. We might see each other again." He says and... gone... you use you staff after some seconds of silence to check and he is really gone. Or farther than the staff's full lenght's reach. How? You didn't hear any steps or sense any movement. He is just gone. What? How?

You stay in the bench for a while, could it be that you have gone mad? Is this a dream? Was it part from your imagination? Was the man a ghost? You stay a while trapped in your thoughts before going home. Some days pass, weeks, more than a month, and you get to almost forget about the experience. It probably wasn't what you thought, and you will never se that man again, so why worry.

Then, one night your father tells you to go to the main room to meet his new business partner adopted son's. He is a lot younger than you, around half your age, but it seems it will be your job to entertain the child while your parents make business. The kid is very quiet while everyone else is here, it makes you wonder if he is even there. Then, you hear it again. "I told you we would meet again, Y/N." You freeze, it isn't coming from the child, is it? "How would you react if I told you I can give you sight?" You are blind under the situation, no pun intended... Just who the hell is this guy?

"My name is Kibutsuji Muzan, never repeat it."

[mammoth-clangen]

Do you like Clangen and Sabertoothed cats? Great, me too!

My name is Pav and this is my clangen blog! <Start reading here>

Important Things

🧓 Im a '99 bby so please don't DM if you're a minor (actually would prefer no unexpected DMs period tbh, im anxious)

⛏️ I work 12hrs 7 days, week on/week off, meaning I will completely vanish 50% of the time and there's nothing I can do about it

🦘 I'm also an Aussie, so my time zone is weird even when I'm not at work (So if I don't reply, im not ignoring u! ;v;-b )

❔️Asks and Anons are turned on! Please read the FAQ below before asking to avoid repeats c:

😻 I read all the tags and replies even if I don't reply. Tysm everyone saying nice things, it makes my day ;v;

😵‍💫 My focus changes like the weather lately, so while I'm Hoping I'll be able to keep this up, please don't get Life Or Death Invested c':

Tags

#mammothmoon -all chapters are tagged with this

#moon (1/2/3/etc) -each moon is tagged by number, and in-character asks from given moons

#mammothask -asks sent to me (will also tag who asks them)

#mammothfanart -art of my silly sabercats by other blogs, tysm!

#mammothref -character references (or possibly species refs if i make them eventually)

#paleo stuff -anything where I'm nerding about paleo biology etc

#ooc/#Pav chatter -Pav updates about Pav! or asks directed to me

#blood/gore/animal death/etc -tagged straight as is if you need to block them!

FAQ

This will be added to as I get more asks and replies to go off!

How often do you post pages?

I try for at least once every 2 weeks, as I spend 50% of my life in the outback with no ability to draw!

Where/ when is Mammothclan set?

In late pleistocene North America, around 12ka ago, during the Younger Dryas!

What species are the cats?

They're Homotherium serum, a scimitar toothed cat.

How paleo accurate is this setting?

Relatively accurate? There's not going to be any species out of their time and place, but I'm not super bothered by, say, exact plant species and how realistic certain story aspects are.

Can I ask the characters' questions?

You can, but I can't promise to answer all of them!

Are we allowed to include characters as cameos/ draw fanart?

Yes definitely absolutely!!!!

You are also welcome to change them to regular cats if that fits better cx (please don't humanise them though, I find that specifically very uncanny)

What mode are you playing on Clangen/ what toggles?

Expanded mode, mass extinctions on, cheating on, "pregnancy ignores biology" off, unknown second parent pregnancies off (bc in my trial run every queen was constantly spawning kittens at lightspeed, no ty)

How far ahead are you from the pages you've drawn?

Currently 40moons ahead, cause I like playing the long game with foreshadowing >:3c

Where do you download Clangen?

Here!

Could you elaborate on/ explain content of (page/panel/speech bubble) that confused me?

Sure! If something is unclear, but it seems like it should be explained, please ask and I'll make sure to clarify c:

Can you tell me about (character backstory/spoilers/ aspect of lore not touched on in comic yet)?

No! I don't want to spoil those kinds of things, I'd rather they come up naturally in the comic than dump them under an ask.

I'm a firm believer that if it doesn't happen in text, it's not cannon.

[poorrichardjr]

Conspiracies Abound

If you ever spend any time around MAGA individuals you will quickly run into at least three different conspiracy theories before the first twenty minutes of conversation, and even more if you start speaking about politics. The country is doing terribly because of a loss of God, satanic democrats drinking the blood of raped babies they murdered just after they were born, or because of the Illuminati, deep state, or UN. Pick your poison and a MAGA has a conspiracy theory that explains everything. Covid was a Chinese hoax designed to get Biden elected. There is no limit to their madness.

No offense to any of these people. I understand the need to explain things that seem "unusual." The thing is, almost none of these people understand Occam's Razor, which states that the simplest explanation for any situation is often correct. America sucks because we elect bad leaders and don't take the time or effort to do the work to determine who really would be a better politician for us. Instead we descend into tribalism that has determined our entire view of the world.

The thing is, conspiracy theories have a place. It just depends upon why you are using them. Believe it or not, but conspiracy theories can be used to make yourself more aware of things that you should be paying attention to. If a conspiracy theory makes you suspicious of the election process, you "could" spend more time learning about it and trying to understand it. We know that almost never happens, but it is always a way to combat the craziness of some more outlandish conspiracy theories.

Another plus of conspiratorial thinking, not necessarily the theory spinning so popular in America today, is to posit future possibilities. Depending upon how far you take it the "theories" become more and more conspiratorial. However, there is a good reason to sometimes spin these yarns, especially when it comes to dictatorially minded politicians. I am not saying you should take all of these theories so seriously that you see the possibilities of the thinking everywhere, but it can make you aware of situations that are definitely questionable at best.

For instance here is a conspiracy theory to be aware of, simply because it has happened in history and considering our current situation could be a factor in our future. Complain all you want about how many people are drawing parallels between Hitlerian Germany and modern America, but any historian worth their salt will tell you there are many similarities. Hitler complained about Jews and undesirables, Trump complains about immigrants and undesirables. Each divided the people of their nations. Each came to power through election where they did not receive the plurality of the vote.

Here are some similarities that haven't yet come to pass. Hitler placed people into positions of power who had no experience in those jobs but who had a lot of disdain for the functions of those departments. Trump is nominating people to lead departments who fit that mold, though the Senate "might" keep them from those positions (though I doubt it). Hitler deported people, made life so uncomfortable that many "undesirables" left, and eventually put people into camps. We know how that ended. Trump is promising mass deportations for legal and illegal immigrants, removal of citizenship, and massive camps. We can go on, but you get the picture.

So, here is where I will give you a conspiracy theory to ponder. Hitler had power when he got his Chancellorship, but that wasn't enough. Similar to how Trump being president isn't quite enough to turn him into a dictator. What really gave Hitler power was the moment he was able to remove his oppositions ability to interfere with his plans. Enter the Reichstag fire, the pretext the Nazi's used to seize total power and jail and make illegal opposition parties.

Yesterday all I heard from some people was that the people Trump was nominating for power were being targeted with bombings and swatting threats. I expect tons of protests when Trump takes office, especially if he gets his way and starts deploying the military and police to go through cities. Here is where the conspiracy comes into play. Some event is going to happen in the future that causes the right wing talking heads to demand Trump crack down on the opposition. Whether that is the death of a possible head (even if it isn't caused by liberals or immigrants) or a riot by the "liberals."

Where that goes is anybody's guess, but if history repeats itself it will be the fundamental issue that gives Trump the power he needs and craves to do everything he wants. As I said, it is a conspiracy theory, but one based in some semblance of reality. As reactionary as our republican "friends" are, I wouldn't put it too far past them to try something like this. Care to take bets now?

[kitsaystransrights]

It'sa me, Kit!

Woah, hey, you can make pinned posts! I totally didn't forget about this feature. I should probably do that, huh?

Weeeeell anyway, howdy! I'm Maddie, I go by Kit online sometimes, you can call me whichever you prefer. She/Her pronouns only, please. I'm a 22 year-old trans furry who is chronically online and geeky, so if you have a problem with that, I'm putting you in a box and then launching that box into the sun. I'm a YouTuber, Twitch streamer, filmmaker, and game dev, so I'm basically every stereotypical geeky trans-girl thing except for an artist. Can't draw to save my life.

On my YouTube, I usually make reviews or video essays about games I like, though I occasionally do stuff on other media as well. Currently, my big long-term projects are the "Splatoon 3 vs Splatoon 2" series, which is AAAAALMOST finished at the time of writing this, and my series on Leilani Wilson's Elancia Chronicles novels, (which are REALLY FREAKING GOOD and you should check them out!) I've linked a few of the videos I'm proudest of down below :)

I also stream pretty frequently on Twitch! I have a PNGtuber of my fursona, Stormy, with art done by EmmalemmaMewmew on Twitter. Stills of her will also start showing up in my YouTube videos eventually, hehe. Currently, the schedule is every Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday, with each day being a different game. These streams always start at 7 PM Mountain Time (that's 9 PM Eastern and 6 PM Pacific) and go for around 4 hours. Sundays are Splatoon Sundays, currently the Anarchy Challenge, where I attempt to win an Anarchy Series with EVERY SINGLE WEAPON in Splatoon 3. It's hell lol. Then there's Triple-A Tuesdays, where I'm currently marathoning the Zelda series, and Indie Thursdays, where I work through my back catalog of indie games! There are also occasional bonus streams, usually around the releases of new games I'm interested in or events in ones I already play (like Splatfests!) Below is a link to my Twitch channel and my current stream schedule. I'll try to update this post as often as I can, but uh, no promises haha.

Last but not least, here's some of the other stuff I'm into/working on! Currently working on a Secret Game Project that I can't tell you about yet >:) But if you know, you know.

I'm a big fan of video games and animation (clearly), with some of my favorite stuff being, in no particular order... Sonic the Hedgehog, The Legend of Zelda, Persona, Fire Emblem, Pokemon, Elancia Chronicles, Super Lesbian Animal RPG, Splatoon, Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, The Owl House, Gravity Falls, Amphibia, Steven Universe, Avatar: The Last Airbender, the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the Spider-Verse films, Dreamworks animation, Pixar animation, Insomniac's Spider-Man gams, Ratchet and Clank, aaaaaaaaaand that's all I could think of off the top of my head but I'm sure there's more junk buried in there somewhere lol.

Anyway, thanks for reading all the way to the bottom! You must really have nothing better to do with your life XD. Here's some links to my other socials, if you wanna follow me there. Here I'm mostly just be posting random rambling and updates for my YouTube and Twitch. See ya around!

https://www.instagram.com/kitthegoddess/

[blood-darkened-moon]

@antaxzantax Honestly, I’m not happy with how the story turned out, especially the second half. But I can’t think of a way to improve it right now. My brain ran out of ideas, and this was the best I could come up with at the moment. I hope you still like it a little bit and it’s not a complete disappointment. Thank you very much for your request.

Request: Alfred and Alexia’s 10th birthday (AO3 Link)

10th Birthday

Alfred read the letter for the fifth time. The content had not changed since the first time, the same birthday wishes, the same stories on the latest events, the same offer for the twins to spend some time in England. An offer that his father had already declined before handing Alfred the letter. Alfred had also looked at the photo enclosed with the letter several times before, showing Uncle Andrew, Aunt Theresa, Grandma Nora, and his cousin Mary[1] smiling happily at the camera. They probably took the photo at their Christmas party last month.

Alfred threw the letter on the table and looked at the watch. It was now 6.37 pm. Alexander had already wished the twins a happy birthday in the morning but wanted to wait until after work to give them their presents officially and celebrate. He said he wanted to be ready on time at 5.00 pm this year. An hour and a half later, there was still no sign of him.

Alfred had rushed through his tasks. He had thought that today, his 10th birthday, would be different, that his father would actually take his time. But he should have known better. Nothing but empty promises, like every year.

However, it was different. He had always spent these days with Alexia. The two had played together from morning to night every year on their birthdays. Even when Alexia had started her studies, she hadn’t let that get in the way, and if necessary, she simply took the day off. But his sister had also disappeared.

Since she had started writing her thesis, Alfred rarely saw her. Alexia lost track of time while writing. She appeared less and less often at mealtimes and stayed up late into the night. By now, she had lost several kilos, and her ribs and spine were clearly visible under her skin. And when she made some room in her schedule for Alfred, she usually fell asleep within half an hour. Alfred was worried about her, but Alexia didn’t want to hear about it, and Alexander didn’t even seem to notice her condition. Alexia wanted to hand in her thesis in mid-February. Then everything would be better, so she said.

“More tea?” a maid asked, interrupting Alfred’s thoughts. He held the cup out to her wordlessly; she poured him some and gave it back.

“Shall I cut the cake for you now, young master?” Alfred’s stomach growled, but he didn’t want to start without Alexia. The tea had to be enough until his sister was ready. “No. I’ll wait.”

“Should I perhaps ask Lady Alexia if she could spare a little time now?”

The question infuriated Alfred. He would have preferred to go to Alexia’s study himself and pick her up, but he knew how much finishing this thesis meant to her. And if it was more important to her at the moment than celebrating her birthday with Alfred, then so be it. How could that cunt think of wanting to disturb Alexia?

“If she has time, she’ll come here herself,” he snapped at the maid. Alfred also wanted to hurl a few insults at her but held back at the last moment. That would only lead to another discussion with his father about his behavior, and he wanted to avoid that, at least today.

The woman then bowed briefly and left the room. He was alone again. Alfred thought about what else he could do while he waited. Previously, he had tried to pass the time by drawing and reading, not very successfully, though. But the more Alfred thought about what he could do now, the more he realized that he didn’t really feel like doing anything. Instead, Alfred simply put his head down on the table, wiped the tears from his wet eyes, and pulled the letter towards him again.

---

Alexia typed the last word of the page on the typewriter and removed the sheet. This time, it had taken her seven attempts to type out the handwritten page without any mistakes. Her concentration was noticeably waning, and the coffee was no longer enough to counteract this. But all in all, she had made good progress. Alexia flipped through her handwritten work, still about a quarter remaining. If she kept up her pace, she should be able to meet her self-imposed deadline.

She stretched and yawned. Alexia was tired. No wonder she had rarely slept for more than a few hours per night recently. But she couldn’t allow herself a break, otherwise sleep would overtake her. Besides, it wasn’t that late yet. She should certainly be able to finish a page or two before the birthday party was about to start. Alexia just hoped that she could last longer today without falling asleep. Alfred had been looking forward to spending more time with her again. Alexia longed for it, too. She missed playing with her brother and felt guilty that she was constantly leaving him to his own devices.

But there was still some time before 5 pm, so Alexia inserted a new sheet into the typewriter and took a quick glance at the clock to confirm her assumption. She felt sick to the stomach. No. That can’t be right. The stupid clock is broken. Yes. It has stopped. But as if to mock her, the second hand moved incessantly. It was 8.54 pm. She was much too late.

Why hadn’t she realized how late it was? Why didn’t anyone come to get her? Her father. Alfred. Someone. She jumped up from her chair and ran to one of the cupboards. There she rummaged around in a box until she found what she was looking for – Alfred’s birthday present.

As they spent most of their time at the South Pole, the twins rarely had the opportunity to choose or buy themselves anything for festive occasions. Their father usually did this, or rather had it done for him. Apart from a handful of gifts, most of the things they got were pretty much garbage. Things that were apparently popular among children somewhere, but were either intended for a different age group or didn’t match the twins’ interests. At least the absurdity of some of the presents amused them both. However, presents didn’t matter that much. Spending the day together was the most important thing for them anyway.

This time, however, Alexia had begged Mary during her last visit to get her a present for Alfred that she hoped he would like and asked her to box it in such a way that Alexander wouldn’t find out what it was. As compensation for her absence, her brother should at least get some entertainment. Her father didn’t want Alfred to watch horror movies. He always said it would excite Alfred too much. Alexia didn’t think so, so she got Alien as a present for him.

---

Alfred was lying face down on the table. He didn’t react when Alexia entered the room.

“Alfie?” No response. “Alfred?” she said louder now. Her brother slowly raised his head, still sleepy and slightly disoriented.

“I’m so sorry, Alfred. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting so long. I didn’t even realize how late it was. You could have just let me know.”

“I didn’t mean to bother you,” Alfred said quietly, looking down at the floor.

“You’re not bothering me. Stupid.” Alfred still looked distressed, so Alexia hugged him. “You’ll never bother me.” At least he was smiling a little now.

“Where’s Father? Hasn’t he been here?”

“I have no idea. I don’t care either.” Alfred sounded bitter. Alexia didn’t want to let it show, but she was no less disappointed. Her father had promised. At least he could have spent this one day with them. Although Alexander was very interested in her education, he rarely spent the free time with Alexia. It was even worse with Alfred. Alexander was only really interested in him when he had done something wrong again, or he simply dragged him around as Alexia’s appendage.

“Oh, Alfie. We don’t need him. We’ll just celebrate on our own. Do you want some cake? I want a slice now. And when we’ve finished eating, we’ll open the presents.”

---

“Looks like that was the last one,” Alfred said as he rummaged through the mountain of wrapping paper.

“No, not quite yet. I’ve got another present for you too. Here it is. And this time, I chose it, not Father.”

“Alexia. Thank you. But you...”

“No. Don’t say anything, Alfie. Think of it as an apology for not being able to play with you so much lately. And now unwrap it already.” Alfred tore the wrapping paper and pulled out the VHS tape. Mary had put the movie in the empty Disney movie case.

“Sleeping Beauty?” Her brother looked confused.

“Just watch the movie, but when Father is not around. I’m sure you’ll like this version of Sleeping Beauty.” Alfred grinned.

“So, what is it really?”

“That’s a surprise.”

Suddenly, the door opened, and their father entered the room.

“Did you have fun? Good.” The twins didn’t answer and just stared at him skeptically.

“I know I promised I’d be here today, but there were problems with the ventilation system. All hell broke loose in the labs. I couldn’t leave. Everything’s back up and running now.” Alexander waited a few seconds for a reaction from his children. As there was no response, he continued. “Well, I’ve taken the day off tomorrow. So, what do you say if we catch up on the party tomorrow?”

[1] Andrew is Edward’s half-brother (Alfred and Alexia’s granduncle). He is only 2 years older than Alexander, though. His daughter Mary is 5 years older than the twins. Nora is Arthur’s 2nd wife and the Andrew’s mother, not Edward’s.

[velvet-games]

intro post

name/pronouns/age/gay shit~

honestly you can call me whatever, but I probably won't know you're talking about me unless you use vel/velvet.

prefer they/it; any pronouns are fine.

non-binary

adult

queer (aego; open to qpr) -- if that doesn't make sense, feel free to ask about it!

what I do/post~

I mostly post fandom stuff, and my original posts include a lot of art + occasional meta. I'm starting write fic too, so that might be a more regular thing in the future :)

other accounts~

@/velvet-games -- explicit nsfw bluesky account, not very active

@/velvetygames -- explicit nsfw twitter/x account, probably gonna stop posting on here

@cornerbytes -- old dragon prince account that I may or may not revisit eventually

@/velvet_games -- ao3 account

tags~

#velvetrambles -- textposts

#my art -- art tag (duh)

#red velvet cake -- aroace-related stuff

nsfw~

I post occasional nsfw here (almost never explicit; that's saved for my bluesky/twitter); it'll be tagged #nsft.

fandoms~

current fandoms: arcane/hazbin hotel

previous fandoms:

hannibal (will always have a very special place in my heart)

ofmd (literally so happy this exists; devastated it's not getting a new season)

the dragon prince (was gonna revisit it when the new season came out but the first couple episodes were kinda boring lmao; should I still give it a shot?)

good omens

lotr

things in media that make me go insane (in a good way)~

friendship

cannibalism

romance that feels like queer-baiting until it isn't (ex. ofmd)

good visuals (even if everything else is shit; extra points if it's animation)

good costume/character design

religious stuff, mythology, angels specifically for some reason (especially when they're terrifying and/or fallen)

gay people

requests~

you are welcome to send in ideas through comments, DMs, asks, etc., but I can't guarantee I'll draw them. if I don't, it doesn't mean that I don't like your idea; I'm probably just busy or have too many brainworms about a specific thing to draw anything but what's on my mind.

notes~

I randomly get really anxious about feedback on stuff sometimes lol, but I promise I read every single comment/tag and cherish them very deeply <33

also, like/rb spamming is totally fine and welcomed! I know some people don't like it, so I just wanted to make it clear that it's completely cool with me.

mutuals~

for a really long time, this was my pinned post, and it's still true! definitely welcome any interactions from mutuals <3

I do have a problem with randomly ghosting people though; I've been much better with it recently, but please try not to take it personally if I don't respond to DMs quickly. I'm probably just being insane and in my head about it. I'm really sorry.

misc~

this is an account that is purposely removed from my irl stuff; I'm here to have fun and relax on my mostly fandom-oriented blog.

I don't block often since I mostly meet nice people on here, but I am very happy to block accounts that make my experience on this app shitty.

I try to tag triggers when appropriate, but please let me know if you need me to tag anything I haven't.

art for me is just a hobby I use for fun and self-expression, so while I really appreciate concrit, keep in mind that my goal is ultimately to make stuff that makes me happy.

I am also very protective of young artists that get made fun of for being beginners or making unconventional art; you should never assume why someone is making art, and you especially should not assume that they are focused on becoming more skilled or making things that are beautiful to you. if they're not hurting anyone and you're not their target audience, get the fuck out.

I am of the mindset that media is not real, but that your reaction/the things you learn are. liking cannibal media does not make you a cannibal, but seeing bigoted portrayals of minorities can feed your biases (doesn't necessarily mean you can't consume it; does mean its effect on you/others irl should factor into if/how you decide to interact with it).

most important thing: have fun! tumblr is silly and should be treated as such.

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

On Air [Chapter Five] Sweet As Sin [Alastor]

A/n: I apologize that this story took me so long to update. This chapter was a bit of a pain, but I appreciate the patience. Thank you all. Please enjoy.

The song that Aelia starts to sing in this chapter is 'Tot Musica', the version done by Amalee. 

Warning(s): depression, OC, singing, anger and disgust, murder, blood, mentions of abuse, demon powers, master/pet dynamic, dark themes, OC is a former serial killer.

Tag list: @dndmaniac

No Minors Allowed!!

A deep sense of uselessness haunted Aelia as she wearily stared up at the purple-tinted sky from her perch in Butcher Town. Her first day searching for a client, much to her disappointment, was met with failure. It was as she had feared; this task was much too great for her. 

Alastor would be disappointed. Aelia tightened her jaw. The last thing she wanted to do was fail him, his praise meant the world to her. At the mere thought, her heart raced but at her core, she knew what awaited her was a look of reproach. 

Aelia did not want to return to the lodge empty-handed with her wings dragging the ground, but what choice did she have? Dusk was drawing near and ground zero was for once silent as the grave. It seemed like once it got dark, the Sinners had better places to be. 

With a heavy sigh, she rested on her back and opted to give it a little more time. Perhaps someone desperate would eventually fall into her lap.

Dream on, girl. 

Aelia stretched her stiff wings. A break would do her some good; she was exhausted and irritated at being told to fuck off by those uninterested in her uncertain offers. Nothing was working for her. Humans on Earth were much easier to manipulate it seemed. She honestly needed a better approach, but that could wait. 

Aelia was at peace. Being up high made her feel unreachable. She loved it, and despite the scent of smoke in the air, Butcher Town had its own special charm. It strangely reminded her of cookouts in the summer with her parents; the scent of wood smoke permeated the stale air. 

A fond smile pulled at her lips, and then her voice rose in song. 

“Whoa, hey, hey, whoa…”

Her silvery voice brought chills to her arms. It had been years since she had sung out loud; a habit she had often done to soothe herself. But now, to her shock, the pitch of her voice was strong and clear. It sounded almost ethereal and made her feel alive. The air around her even felt energized.

Aelia took a winded breath and sat up. What was this feeling? Her feathers tingled as though an electric current had shot through them.

“We will rejoice when we get the freedom promised. The freedom so many die–”

A horrified shrill scream echoed from down below. It took Aelia a moment to react, and though she should have felt concerned, all she could feel was irritation. Who would dare to interrupt her? It felt like the weight of the world had crashed onto her shoulders. She stood and crawled onto the parapet, then glanced down at the smoldering wreckage below. 

At first, she did not see a single person. Then from the corner of her eye, a Sinner similar to a crocodile with dark cross-branding on their slender tail darted out from the corner of a nearby building. Their snout was narrow and their build was slim with pale yellow interconnected scales that indicated they were both young and female, but Aelia was not for certain. She raised a curious brow, watching the reptilian for a moment as she ran in terror past heaps of burning trash and patches of scorched earth, but to her shock, a gun demon gave chase, aiming a large caliber rifle at her that appeared to be in place of its left forearm. 

“¡Papá (Dad)!” The reptilian screamed. “¡Ayuda (Help)!”

What was that dialect? Spanish? 

A weird feeling of nostalgia washed over Aelia making her uneasy, but in the end, she opted to ignore the altercation. It was not her problem, she had her own issues to deal with. As she stepped off the parapet, a shrill gunshot halted her. Why did she flinch? It was sudden, yes, but expected. For a brief moment, to her annoyance, she imagined herself in the victim’s place.

“Please. No…I’m sorry. I swear.”

She shivered in disgust. How irritating. Some memories were better off locked in her head.

With a growl, Aelia bent over the edge again. She had expected to see a lifeless body down below but to her surprise, the reptilian had been merely nicked and was very much alive. Though, not for much longer.

The gun demon was starved for blood, driven by some inhuman motive, and closing in like a 90s horror movie slasher. Their aim was horrendous in Aelia’s opinion but they did manage to slow her down by maiming her right leg. The reptilian was persistent though. She limped in a panic across the grime-covered ground, trailing crimson blood behind her in a poor attempt to put some distance between herself and her assailant. 

But the gun demon easily caught up and slammed the rifle into her head with a loud smack. As she fell to the ground, struggling to pick herself up, the demon watched in glee. Even from above, Aelia could see the hint of arousal on their face. It struck a nerve in her that she honestly had not felt in a long time.

He liked it when he hurt me. Couldn't get it up unless I was in tears.

Aelia did not know any better. She was young when she met him, and stupid when he convinced her that he was the only person who truly loved her. He made her a puppet; a sad worthless shell of a human. But then Alastor came along and insisted that she grow a backbone and take back her life. 

Aelia felt her throat tighten as tears stung her stormy eyes. She was not a pathetic sobbing mess anymore and this display of power and control over another disgusted her. With fury behind the wheel, her wings rose and her feathers fluffed. The gun demon rested the barrel of the rifle against the reptilian’s head and chuckled as she pleaded.   

“No…please.” 

Aelia tightened her jaw. She had not seen her ex in years and yet she was seeing fleeting traces of him on the gun demon. She could not bear it. Raising her arm, the primary ombre feathers on both her wings disconnected and shot down like an arrow, circling the abuser in a frenzy.     

“What the fuck is–”

Before the gun demon could finish, Aelia clenched her hand into a tight fist, and the feathers turned their hollow shafts, piercing their skin one by one in quick succession. The illusion of her ex had become a human pincushion, writhing and shouting in pain for compassion, but Aelia had none to give. Jets of blood soiled everything with a meter of their body as her feathers continued to lance them. 

Then she offered mercy. 

Aelia raised a thin finger and motioned down with it. A primary, colored gray and blue shot through the top of the demon’s head in a gruesome fashion. A garbled cry poured from their mouth, and then they fell to the ground with a wet slap. 

Panting, Aelia watched the demon’s body twitch. She might have overdone it just a bit. Alastor did say Sinners were more resilient than they looked, but she was certain this one was dead. She turned her eyes to the reptilian, witnessing a plethora of emotions wash over her bloodstained face; relief, confusion, then fear as her yellow eyes noticed Aelia on the top of the building. Then in horror, she limped off into the shadow of a nearby alleyway, leaving her rescuer feeling a bit irritated.  

You're welcome.

Aelia leaped off the parapet and sat down in exhaustion. She needed a moment to breathe. A lot had come over her; emotions that she thought would not haunt her in the afterlife. Fear and bitterness…thoughts of him. For some reason, her past still had a grip on her. 

We're all Sinners here, some worse than others. I can't start attacking every person who reminds me of him.

Her stomach churned with unease. The next time��

“Hello, my dear,” A familiar voice suddenly greeted her. 

Aelia squeaked in fear and turned to face Alastor near the parapet, who had somehow snuck up on her. She did not even hear or see him walk onto the roof.   

“You scared me.”

The said man widened his smile and then glimpsed off the edge, humming in delight. 

“You've had a rather productive day, haven't you?”

It was as if he knew what she had been doing. Aelia frowned, standing to greet him. As much as she did not want to bring it up, she felt as though she must. 

“I've had no luck with making a deal.”

The sound of static filled her fears but when Alastor faced her, he did not look mad or upset by her revelation. Still, Aelia was shaken. 

“There is still time. I know I–”

“It's quite alright, bèt kay (pet). I know you won't fail me.” He paused to glance back at the body of the gun demon on the ground below. “Why look how much you've already advanced. You've made the utmost impression on me.”

Aelia was unaware, but the hearts returned to her eyes. She felt suddenly warm, as though all her worries had been erased.

“I'm delighted you think so, master.”

Her wings lifted in response but to her horror, she noticed that many of her feathers were missing. Aelia widened her eyes; it looked like she was molting.

This is a bit embarrassing.

Heat swept across her face. She was new to her body and not certain if the feathers would even grow back or not. It's not like it came with an instruction manual she could consult.  

Tucking her wings tight against her body, she turned the subject of the conversation over to him. 

“Was your outing pleasant?”

“As pleasant as one can expect from Butcher Town, my dear,” Alastor remarked. 

He longed for the day of his return. It was drawing near, but time was ticking by ever so slowly in his opinion.

“But that's neither here nor now.” He paused to twirl his cane, pointing toward the door that led to the roof. “Let us return to the lodge. There is something I want to show you.” 

Aelia felt a bit gloomy, but she nodded and silently followed him from the roof. Back home, she made Alastor a cup of coffee and herself some warm tea, honey vanilla chamomile; a drink she took delight in knowing that he purchased for her considering his dislike for it, and sat with him at the dining table. 

With a snap of his fingers, a flier of some type appeared in front of her. It almost looked like a young child made it, decorating the page with rainbows and sticks of cotton candy. The name ‘Happy Hotel’ was written at the top. 

“A penny for your thoughts,” Alastor inquired. 

“It's…colorful,” Aelia remarked. 

She honestly didn't know what to think about it. It was something she expected to see in Hell. The flier did not give much detail other than asking: Would you like to be cured? What did that even mean? Aelia sat it down and took a sip of her tea, humming as the two cubes of sugar she had added, sweetened it to her liking. 

“Is this another one of the projects you mentioned?”

Alastor widened his smile. 

“It could be. In the next few days, I'll know for sure.” He paused to take a drink, then sat the mug on the table. “This project will be one I require your aid with.” 

Aelia felt her heart race. 

“Of course. I would be–”

“Should you of course obtain a soul,” he interrupted.

The weight of the world felt like it was resting on her shoulders. Aelia felt overwhelmed. She did not know what reason Alastor wanted her to complete this task, but she knew it must have been important to him. 

“I understand,” she uttered. 

Alastor tilted his head, gauging her. Despite the consequences, she was undoubtedly trying. It pleased him.

“A suggestion, my dear. A smile is a valuable tool. In your arsenal, it shows you are confident even when you are not, and to desperate Sinners, it shows that you are the one holding all the cards.” 

Was it really that simple? A smile. Who was she to question Alastor? He won her over with a few kind words. Aelia at least felt a bit more confident with his words resting in her mind. 

“A smile. I can do that.”

To emphasize her point, she smiled at him. 

Alastor was elated. He took a shot in the dark with this one, and so far, his gamble was paying off. 

“My dear, you are sweet as sin.”  

[bluepeachstudios]

you have any possible bonding activities you think the fusions would do in their downtime (that wont spoil the fic, of course)? i think daphy should teach mikey how to make fireworks :) fun explosion instead of attention-drawing property damage explosion

Oh god I could go on a long, long thing about this.

If we're talking about the fun thing that Mikey promised Daphy, I shan't be spoiling what it is they do :x Leo is also involved but yeah it involves fireworks.

Pheo likes just. Being around Mikey and Donnie, the same way he likes just being around Deangelo! He doesn't relax easily, he's almost nearly always in "go-mode" out of habit. Donnie and Mikey help him get into that relaxed place. They like watching movies and Pheo does some teaching by sparring them. He feels most confident in his fighting skills, so that's what he tries to help them with. Mikey especially likes snuggling up in Pheo's arms (as the babiest of brothers with the second eldest of them). Pheo, much like Leo, likes to listen to Donnie and Mikey both talk. He's got enough Leo in him where if you get him on the right subject, he'll also start talking a lot, but that Raph in him makes him horribly shy about doing it, so he needs to be nudged to continue.

Deangelo thinks Raph and Leo are the coolest people to ever exist. He will talk all day to both of them. Leo and Deangelo talking is like neurodivergent communication going on and Raph feels very left out when they do talk. Deangelo likes sparring with Raph a lot! Dea relies a lot more on speed and precision than he does on brute force, so learning from Raph is a nice change of pace. He likes to snuggle with Pheo, too. Honestly I think all the fusions wouldn't mind snuggling with Pheo, but they don't get to meet each other face to face.

Mio plays games with Raph and Donnie and will win at anything they can get him to play (except chess, which is so boring that he gives up about halfway through). He loves reading comic books and watching space heroes and being creative! He's not very good at drawing, but he enjoys it anyway. Mio is the most likely to want to watch a tv show or movie. He'll watch just about anything, but Space Heroes is his absolute favorite. He also loves moving around a lot. Daphy and him hand out and bond by Mio hovering over Daphy while he works. He and Daphy will talk to each other a lot, and though Daphy has a very short temper, he's always exceedingly patient for Mio.

Daphy of course likes to build things. They're often destructive things, but it's because he likes the flashiness, the energy that gets released, having a big impact on something. Daphy's a little hard to get into without spoilers if I'm being honest, but he gets along much better with Mikey than he does Leo, even if Mikey does annoy him sometimes. Leo and him have a bit of an awkward relationship because of Daphy's actions, and the fact that Daphy doesn't treat Leo like the leader. Usually their bonding time is silent but close. They read books next to each other. That sort of thing.

Lonny loves designing things. If Raph and Mikey have an idea for it, he can draw it out for them. They're not always the most realistic designs, but the AESTHETICS. Lonny calms down once he has something to focus on, so usually they do targeted activities with him, like playing a game or watching movies. Mikey likes to lay on him (he is the tallest of the fusions) and Raph likes to spar with him. Lonny tends to freeze up with indecision and Raph gets that, so it's nice and helpful.

Machiel is a SNUGGLER. He doesn't care what you're doin, as long as he can snuggle, he'll be happy. He also wants to DO stuff. He wants to go out and beat up some foot bots or go hunting through the junkyard or go hop rooftops or sneak into a movie theater or something. He and Leo bond by sparring, which is off-putting for Leo because Machiel doesn't fight like a normal ninja should, but it's good practice! Donnie often gets overwhelmed quickly by Machiel, but Machiel asks questions and Donnie's happy to answer.

Machiel and Lonny interacting is another spoiler <3 but as you can see, I went on and this was just simple stuff. Enjoy fusion lore?? :'D

[amyyythestarry]

YUGI TWINS HCS!!

( All photos from Pinterest )

On their 12th birthday their parents got them keychains for their keys, because they were growing up and they thought they should have keys to their house. Amane got a rocket ship keychain and Tsukasa got a beetle.

Amane likes vanilla flavored cake because it’s simple and Tsukasa likes chocolate because it’s flavorful. But both of them don’t like birthday cakes that much so they have donuts.

Amane autistic a** just likes plain sweet donuts.

Tsukasa audhd a** likes flavorful things ( Sometimes, but more often than Amane ).

When Mitsuba figures out what a birthday is he asks Tsukasa what’s his birthday, it takes a while for Tsukasa to remember but he answers.

Then Mitsuba, Sakura and Natsuhiko plan a  little surprise birthday party.

They keep Tsukasa busy enough to stay out of the broadcasting room for a two days so they can get everything set up.

Then on his birthday he comes to the broadcasting room, turns on the lights and,

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TSUKASA!” 

It’s not so loud, even though it’s the Broadcast club and a lot of Mokkes because Sakura doesn’t think Tsukasa likes loud out of control and sudden noises so it’s at regular volume.

Tsukasa stares blankly at everything for a few minutes, the decorations, little pile of presents in the corner and table with food and donuts.

They start to doubt if he likes it or not until he finally says something.

“What is all of this..?” - Tsu

“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” - Mitsu

They say it’s his small birthday party they set up, and he still doesn’t react any way, but subtly shocked.

“…. Do you like it?” - Saku

It’s takes a few minutes, longer than expected for Tsu to look around again. But then he mumbles, “I like it..”

“But.. Why..??” - Tsu

“Because it’s your b-day.” - Natsu

“Yeah, when was the last time you even celebrated?” - Some rando Mokke

Tsu shrugs because that’s too many years to count.

Then they just have a good time, and Tsu has a good time which is great.

Saku gives him a short beetle locket necklace, that reminds him too much of the beetle keychain he once had

Mitsu gives him a promise bracelet to match with his.

Natsuhiko gives him a sketchbook, because i’d be better to stop drawing on the walls.

And the Mokke give him boxes of candy.

Plus they all give him a matching friendship pocket charm. Tsu puts the charm in his locket.

Would Tsu be lying if he said he wasn’t internally emotional and felt like crying?

Hanako also has a surprise party, but since the bathroom isn’t as big it’s just decorated and they hang out as usual while giving him his presents.

He’s also really really shocked but rolls with it.

Nene gives him a starfish necklace. It’s a fish, and she loves fish and marine animals, but he likes stars and space stuff so it’s perfect! 

Kou gave him a book about astrology and crystals that he thinks he would like ( He kind of doubted it a little but was relieved when Hanako was so happy )

And Aoi gave him a matching heart necklace

Hanako almost cries.

Also, matching Toilet Squad locket necklaces

Nene and Aoi have the heart, Kou has the circle, and Hanako has the star.

PLUS! Tsukasa got Hanako a present! Because why wouldn’t he give his dear twin brother a present?

He gives him a box with a plain donut ( Like how their mom used to make them ) and has a self-made matching bracelet and note. 

“Dear Amane, just wanted to wish you a happy birthday this year. You must have been lonely the last few years, or not? I was. Doesn’t matter now! Happy Birthday big brother. I love you.

The tears he was holding in finally slipped. But he quickly wiped them away.

He felt too sick to eat the donut, but he’d feel even more guilty to not eat it. So he did. And put the bracelet in his pocket.

He would feel way too guilty about not giving Tsu a present back, because that is literally the least he can do, so he got him a card saying happy birthday back.

Tsu was overjoyed but also very melancholic.

For their birthday they used to always make donuts with their mom and dad. The special ingredient being cinnamon and vanilla abstract.

Every birthday their dad gives them a new toy to add to their playroom.

On their 7th birthday Mr. Yugi tricked Tsu into thinking he was getting a koala plushie ( He hates Koalas bc they beat him up ).

The twins always sneak some birthday food into their mouths before their birthday. ( Sometimes without their mom or dad knowing )

But half of the time it’s always Amane’s idea.

“Hey Tsu, want to eat the birthday food?”

Tsu always agrees.

Criminal big bro, convincing little bro to engage in committing crimes.

When they both died Hanako never thought about their birthday ever again.

HAPPY BDAY HANAKO AND TSUKASA!

✩︎★︎

[tieflingtareon]

My love, are you the devil? (Oh, call me a devil)

Chapter 28 | Words: 8.4k

Summary: Astarion found himself often surprised by his heroic companion. He had one goal. To become the favoured companion of the group, to earn the Tieflings loyalty, to make Tar'eons strength his own. Yet Tar'eon isn't like the usual target of his manipulations. Despite his naivety, he does not seem gullible. There is something very wrong with their 'leader' to begin with. Astarion isn't sure if he wants to control it or eradicate the threat it posed. But can he really do either when Tar'eon himself seems so...unwaveringly kind?

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50668558/chapters/127995079

Tar'eon wasn't sure what to do with himself. He had two options. Tell everyone he was a Bhaalspawn and hope they'd look past it, or keep it a secret, and hope it wasn't found out in a particularly bad way. On one had, if he managed to keep it a secret, he wouldn't lose his friends and would hopefully find a way to cure his urges anyway. But, if he was found out, they'd draw their own conclusions to why he kept it a secret in the first place. If he told them, they'd either promise their support, or try to kill him, and worse, they'd be divided and he'd have to watch a bloodbath nobody wanted.

He sighed and hung his head. He was starting to get a headache now. He didn't have to tell them right now. He could...give it a day. Really think about whether it was important enough or not. There was so much at stake...

When they left, waving to the others, Tar'eon focused on exploring, getting to know the town. He found a Ilmater temple, and seeing as he had prayed to him before, he decided to check it out. Hearing the priest had been killed, and a tiefling assumed the problem, he decided he could look into it, if only to help the refugees. If he could prove that it wasn't their fault, they may still get refuge from the temple. Which led him down a rabbit hole, a wall, and to a bunch of shapeshifters. They were plaguing the place, but he couldn't find anymore evidence despite his searching. Not in the temple at least.

He appeared outside a cave mouth, and once he stocked up on fish for dinner, he made his way to explore the shores, which lead him to another fight. He hadn't meant to start this one, to be fair. It just...happened. Apparently he was rude, but Astarion had a good time stealing everything, including more tadpoles. He wasn't sure how many they had so far, but it was slightly concerning the amount they had back at camp. Better in their hands then others though.

He felt like he had made a breakthrough when he stumbled upon a Gur camp though. The shocking part was seeing the Gur again.

"We...we did kill him, didn't we?" Astarion asked him, looking a little horrified to see the man again.

"Apparently not."

"No, I definitely did."

"Maybe another Gur found him and revived him."

"I didn't smell any other Gur." Astarion bit out before the man gave a jovial greeting.

"My friend from the hag swamp? You join us as we honour our fallen dead - you are a bright light on a dark day. Even you, my erstwhile quarry."

"...Maybe you scrambled his brain when you gouged out his eye." Tar'eon whispered.

"Shut up. Act natural." Astarion gave a charming smile and a smile wave as he wavered himself through a greeting. "Oh, eh...Hello again?"

"Isn't this the guy-?"

"Shut up, Wyll." Astarion cleared his throat. "I feel we're intruding, we should leave. Quickly."

"Calm yourself - you will not be harmed." Astarion grimaced just as Gandrel did. "Our leader had called off the hunt. She wishes to speak to you." The elder woman finished her prayer - chant? - and approached as Gandrel stepped aside.

"So, the impossible spawn walks amongst us in the blazing sun. We have been looking for you."

"What do you want with Astarion?" Tar'eon stepped forward to put himself ever so slightly in front of the vampire on instinct, just as he had when Gandrel met them in the swamp.

"The last time your friend came to our camp, he stole our children. Our future." Tar'eon looked at Astarion in shock, wondering if it was true. The vampire wouldn't look at him, glare focused on the woman.

"When I was hunting you, I was to bring you back here. To interrogate you, discover how to save our children, and then destroy you." Gandrel said it like it was simply a matter of fact.

"But things have changed. You have changed." The woman tilted her head. "Is it true you left your master? That you broke the spell that binds you to him?"

"Well, I mean...kind of? It's a long story, honestly." Astarion looked nervous. He wasn't fond of Gur, and perhaps being surrounded by them was making his danger radar ping like crazy.

"Yes. Astarion is free now." Tar'eon answered for her.

"Free? Not while his master still lives. But he has, perhaps, earned a second chance." Astarion looked pleased to hear that, unfolding his arms. "We have tried to save our children already, attacking Cazador Szarr's palace at first light. Even then, it was too well defended." She admitted bitterly.

"But, if his own spawn approached? Someone he thought he could control? He would throw his doors open and welcome you in. And once inside, you could do what we could not. You could save the children you damned."

"You don't know Cazador like I do - he's merciless. You want me to march into the lion's den and save your children, but I promise you, they're already dead." Astarion didn't exactly sound proud of it either. He likely brought Gur children on Cazador's orders. Or perhaps children in general. It wouldn't surprise Tar'eon to know Astarion picked Gur children over regular children, given his hatred for them.

"How can you be sure?" Tar'eon asked, and Astarion gritted his teeth.

"I spent two hundred years bringing him victims!" Astarion snapped, like it wasn't obvious he would know Cazador's ways. "Each and every one was whisked away to be fed on that night."

"But you never saw him feed yourself? He could keep prisoners for days before killing them." Ulma pointed out.

"I know our plight is grim, but if there is even a chance to save them, we must take it." Gandrel near pleaded.

"If our children are truly gone, then we ask for blood. I know you can understand that, spawn." Tar'eon grimaced at her tone. If what she said was true though, then Astarion had to make this right. To damn child to Cazador...they couldn't let that be. If they were already dead? Then blood would spill as the Gurs asked.

"You owe them revenge, Astar. If nothing else, you owe them that."

"I suppose...Yes." He sounded a million miles away before he smirked at Ulma. "Yes, revenge I can do."

"Thank you, from me and all my people. If you can do this, we will be in your debt." She smiled at Tar'eon before turning her hardened gaze to Astarion. "You have lived a life of violence and sin. You have stolen lives, broken families, and caused immeasurable grief. Doing this will not right those wrongs."

Astarion gave a half-laugh, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"If you're trying to encourage me, you're failing abysmally."

"But it will be a start. You may still be redeemed." She smiled now, and Tar'eon found himself agreeing. He liked her outlook. Perhaps he could adopt that himself. He had done so much wrong in his past but...perhaps he could still be redeemed, if we killed the elder brain and made all of this right again. It wouldn't bring the dead back, but it would be start.

"Please, go. Time is short, but we will see you again when it is done." Tar'eon bowed his head to her and lead Astarion away. The vampire looked worlds away.

"Are you alright?"

"Hm? Yes, yes, I...Just lost in thought." Astarion cleared his throat. "I suppose we have even more reason to kill Cazador now."

"Did we need more reason?" Tar'eon mused and Astarion laughed.

"No. No, we truly didn't." He smiled and they made their way back into town, where Tar'eon found himself truly looking at the posters on the walls now. He frowned as he looked at Enver's face on the printed page.

"Lord Enver Gortash..." He mumbled to himself. Personally, he thought he looked better in person than on paper. Then again, he shouldn't have an opinion on such things to begin with. His stomach turned, churning with nerves. He knew he needed to kill Orin. He needed Enver's stone too. Gortash's stone. Fuck, what was wrong with his head? Referring to their enemies so casually in his mind?

He hadn't realised how long he'd been staring until Astarion stood beside him, tilting his head.

"Is there something...interesting about this or...?" He quirked a brow at his lover and Tar'eon sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face.

"I...You know when you know you know somebody, but you can't remember anything about them outside their face or name?"

"Are you telling me you know this...Lord Gortash?" Astarion wrinkled his nose at even referring to the man with such a title.

"Well, no, I don't know him but...I think I used to? Maybe. Everything's all...scrambled up in there."

"Well...If you knew Orin who works with Gortash, then perhaps that's all it was. He's an arms dealer right? Maybe you bought some stuff from him. Not everything had a deeper meaning, you know?" Astarion was attempting to reassure him, but Tar'eon shook his head.

"I don't think it was like that. I think it was..." He thought back to the memory of that dark office, of the hand around his throat, and he swallowed hard. "I think we were close. Friends even."

"Friends?" Astarion frowned, looking thoughtful. "I suppose. If he's working with Orin in this Absolute business, despite their current possible falling out, and Orin seems to have ties to you, it's possible you had ties with both prior to their plans of world domination."

"I just don't know what to do about it." Tar'eon admitted. "Karlach hates him, and she has every right to, but...Something is stopping me from wanting to kill him as much as I do Orin. If he knows about my past, I might be able to learn something from him. Something that isn't all just...blood and guts."

"Blood and guts is fun though." Astarion patted his shoulder. "Look, if you ask me very nicely, I could always see about kidnapping the man and forcing him to answer all your questions."

Tar'eon grinned. It was a touching sentiment from Astarion.

"Thank you. But it's alright. I'll figure out what to do when the time comes. For now, I just want to get rid of Orin. She's the most dangerous out of the two of them."

"In time, my love." Astarion assured. Tar'eon finally pulled himself away from the poster and made inside the building. It looked like a postal service. After a chat with the man behind the desk, he promised to check on the missing pigeons. It was a merger thing for him to do, so it didn't hurt to look around. If they found something, they found something. He glanced off to the side and his eyes widened at the poster on the desk.

A coronation? Gortash was becoming Archduke? He picked up the paper and slipped it into his pocket. It even told him where the coronation would be. If he wanted to talk to the man, that might be his chance...

He spoke to some pigeons, but that didn't help him much. He was surprised to find messenger dogs in the yard though, in their cages, but only one whimper from Scratch at the woman in charge made him want to slit her throat. Her insistence on taking Scratch back...He could see right through her.

"I'll break every bone in your body before I let you hurt my dog." His sudden threat made her stagger.

"You- you'll do no such thing."

"It's not just Scratch. She's always hurting the dogs." Dringo spoke up and Tar'eons hackles raised with a glower, crossing his arms.

"Shut your mouth, Dringo." She raised a fist as if to hit him, but hesitated before looking at Tar'eon. "Last warning."

He would cave her skull in before he let her hurt another animal.

"You know...Lord Gortash and I; we're quite close." He thumbed at the poster folded up in his pocket besides the prism. "I know for a fact that he abhors animal abuse. Perhaps I should report you to him?"

"Fine. You think you can do a better job without me? Be my guest. They're a useless bunch of mongrels. You're welcome to them!" She stalked off with that and Tar'eon glanced at Astarion. The vampire quirked a brow and Tar'eon nodded him off towards the woman. Astarion's eyes lit up and he winked before slinking away, no doubt using the shadows and the illusion of the eye to slit her throat around the corner, lest she be a repeat offender. Tar'eon could tolerate much - but animal abuse? Not ever.

"You- you got rid of her." Dringo sounded so shocked, like he hadn't realised it was possible. "I'll do a better job looking after these dogs than she ever did. I promise."

"I know you will." Tar'eon smiled. "Because if you don't, I'll break every bone in your body." Dringo laughed nervously, like he wasn't sure if Tar'eon was kidding. He wasn't.

"Okay...Bye." He went back his duties with that and Astarion came back, wiping his dagger on his pant leg.

"Did I miss anything?"

"Not at all."

"Did you just sick Astarion on that woman?" Gale asked in disbelief.

"Yes." Astarion smirked. "I took great delight in her little whimpers as she died."

"Gods...Well, I suppose she deserved it." Wyll shrugged.

"...I want to say she didn't, but she definitely did." Gale agreed.

"Good, we're in agreement. Let's go." Tar'eon beckoned them all to follow him out of the postal office, looking off towards the giant robot at the gate. He frowned.

"What on Toril is that?" Tar'eon asked. Wyll grimaced.

"The Steel Watch. I heard some citizens talking about them. Lord Gortash is the one who makes them and they follow his orders."

"I see..." Tar'eon frowned, looking around the gate. "I don't exactly want him to know we're here yet, or for his Steel Watch to kill us so...we'll find a way around."

"I think I see one. A few scoundrels are using it themselves." Astarion smirked as he pointed out a ledge and a ladder.

"Lead the way." It took some grunting and heaving, but they managed to find themselves on the other side, activating another portal so the others could follow. "Well...time to explore I suppose."

"Oh, you'll like this side of town." Astarion laughed.

Tar'eon didn't ask.

****

He should have asked. He was not expecting to be dragged into a brothel. The name should have given him a hint, he knew that, but on the plus side, he found out that their favourite - note the sarcasm - devil was present. The talk with him hadn't lasted long. Tar'eon was not offering that cambion any more power than he already had, even if it meant a way to free Orpheus and ease the guilt over leaving the man in his prison. Raphael assured him that he'd be back, but he didn't intend on it.

"Oh look, an entertainment area." Astarion sounded almost giddy as he guided them past some curtains in the lobby. Tar'eon felt his cheeks warm as he watched a woman dance on the stage, an upbeat tune playing around them. "A den of heathenism. I feel right at home." Astarion laughed, a haughty laugh that lacked any real truth to his statement.

"I...do not." Tar'eon cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Ah, yes, I- I agree with Tar'eon." Gale scratched the side of his neck, looking uncomfortable as his eyes roamed over the people in the room.

"I won't say I've never indulged in my youth, but...it's not my preference to pay for that kind of intimacy." Wyll pursed his lips. A woman brushed a hand over his shoulder and he jumped a little, giving a charming smile that didn't really reach his eyes, taking her hand off him and guided her away to the next, more willing patron. She managed to graze a hand along one horn though, admiring, and Wyll's brows pinched.

"I feel like they assume I'm staff rather than a patron." Wyll frowned.

"This place is all about the exotic from what I'm seeing. You look the part." Gale informed and Wyll gave him an unimpressed side eye. "Uh, in the most - in the nicest way possible. They even have drow!" He gestured to a pair of twins in the corner.

"How observant, Gale." Astarion drawled. As if they could tell they were the topic of discussion, the two drow siblings in question turned their way, the woman's eyes gazing over their party, but lingering on Tar'eon. It was hard not to focus on him, being the largest of the part.

"A new face! Looking for another chapter of dirty lore for your biography?" The male drow smiled at Tar'eon, seeming to appreciate the whole package before him. "Sorn." He introduced himself with a wink.

"I can tell you're a special one from a single glance." The female drow stepped closer and smiled, demure and sweet. "I am Nym. You have but to ask, and we can grant you a moment of pleasure. Don't be shy."

Tar'eon blinked slowly, taking a moment for the offer to sink in. His eyes widened.

"What...kind of service do you provide exactly?" There was no way he was being propositioned right now. Astarion? That would make sense, he's gorgeous, even Gale had an almost rugged charm to him, and Wyll? Well, Wyll had a body to die for with his strict routine to keep in shape. Tar'eon was...well, Tar'eon. He knew he had his appeals, he was in shape, and Astarion assured him he was attracted to him, but he was more...useful and mildly terrifying, than attractive in his opinion. What with his unsettling glowing eyes and looming figure, the scars across one side of his face not exactly pretty, and the patches of discoloration on his skin not leaving him with a smooth, even complexion.

He was more beast than lover in appearance, though maybe that was the bigotry getting to him about his tiefling heritage. Sorn chuckled at his naivety.

"What do you think, silly? Love, of course! Hot and vulgar with me, or sweet and sincere with my sister." He was selling himself a lot more than her by his tone, and Tar'eon wasn't sure if that was sweet or if he was just really horny. "Trust me, you don't want to miss my signature Menzoberranzan Love Trick."

"I see...and you enjoy this work?" He felt the need to ask. He was constantly coming across people who needed help. He'd gladly assist them if he could.

"There are so many that come to me speaking of a fixation that no one else has ever been able to share with them...and never will again. A once in a lifetime moment of passion. Everyday. What could be better?" He seemed to really believe it. "In this field I can be myself boundlessly. We could easily take up other work if we wished, but we're quite happy here."

"Well, I can't judge you if you're happy." Tar'eon smiled. Astarion tilted his head at the drows, stepping a touch close to Tar'eon who still looked a little uncomfortable.

"Is that your partner with you?" Nym asked. "What a gorgeous couple...perhaps we could come to an agreement?" Tar'eon frowned.

"What are you interested in my partner?" He could understand, he supposed. Astarion was beautiful, but she seemed to know he was taken and was still propositioning them both. Was that normal in brothels?

"Well, there are two of us, aren't there? Use your imagination."

"Oh." Tar'eon took a moment. "Oh."

"Yes, 'oh'." Nym chuckled, amused by the tieflings shyness. Astarion cleared his throat.

"I- Sorry, love, I'm not quite comfortable with doing this again just yet." Astarion admitted, looking a touch upset with himself, like he was depriving Tar'eon of something because of his lack of desire to entangle with another - or anyone for that matter.

"I wouldn't ask such a thing of you, Astar. Not ever." Tar'eon assured. Did he think him so callous? The vampire made a sound of disgust.

"Don't be so nice to me! It makes me want to be," He looked pained. "Nice back."

"Is that such a crime?" Tar'eon asked, amusement twinkling in his eyes as he turned back to the twins. "I apologise, but I'll have to decline."

"Well, we'll be here if you change your mind." Nym smiled, peaking behind Tar'eon to Gale and Wyll. "Perhaps your companions might be interested in my brother and I?"

"Oh, no, no thank you, that's- you're both gorgeous, there's no lie there. I'm just not comfortable with that sort of thing." Gale smiled tightly.

"I- I agree. I want romance, not - not debauchery." Wyll fiddled with his gloves. "I value affection over fun, a lasting memory over a passing fancy."

"We're in agreement there." Gale chuckled, glancing at Wyll for a moment before he bowed is head to Nym and Sorn. "It's all a bit much for me. Thank you for the offer, but we'll pass."

"A shame. It's rare we see a man more exotic than us." Sorn chuckled and Wyll gave a thin smile.

"Temporarily exotic, I- Can we go, please?" Wyll turned to Gale who nodded quickly.

"Yes, I think- we've overstayed our welcome, we have much to do, much to explore." Gale placed a hand on Wyll's shoulder and slipped away past the curtain. Tar'eon frowned. Wyll was obviously not taking kindly to the spotlight, and this place attracted all the wrong attention.

"I wish you both the best luck in your endeavours."

"Do consider coming back. I would not mind showing the wonders of a drow lover." Sorn winked, voice sultry.

"He needn't a more wondrous lover than I, thank you." Astarion smiled wide, showing off his fangs as he lead Tar'eon out of the lobby. Tar'eon felt like he could only breathe properly once he was outside. "This wouldn't happen if you weren't so gorgeous, you know?"

"I- I wouldn't call myself gorgeous." Tar'eon blushed. "I think you fit that title much better than I."

"Please, you're six and half feet worth of pure muscle, yet you're as cozy as a fur blanket. Who wouldn't want you?" Astarion smirked. "It's good thing I got in first. Would have been a pity to not have you wrapped around my finger."

"I am very much wrapped around your finger." Tar'eon chuckled, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to his lips. "And I don't mind it one bit." His tail gave a happy flick behind him. With Astarion, it was easy to forget everything that troubled him.

"Yes, yes, I'm magnificent - we should go check on prince charming and his wizard."

"Worried?"

"Not even I enjoyed being gawked at when I started luring prey to Cazador. It's something you become accustom to over time. Doesn't make you feel any less disgusting about it." Astarion made a face like he smelt something rancid, moving ahead to approach the pair who were talking outside another establishment.

Wyll had his arms crossed over his chest as Gale spoke in a low voice, a small smile on his face as he traced a scar that travelled along Wyll's cheekbone, the warlock's eyes downcast. Slowly, his arms unfolded, smiling at the wizard in return. Whatever he had said, it worked like magic. Gale grinned, obviously pleased to have reassured Wyll enough for him to relax. He pressed a short kiss to his lips, the swordsman's expression full of fondness.

"Well? Everything sorted then?" Astarion mused and Wyll looked bashful before he stood straighter. Gale gave a boastful grin.

"Dandy as a dandelion! Where to next? I've heard there's quite a few shops around - perhaps we'll stumble upon a bookshop? I'm starting to run out of good books."

"That doesn't sound so bad." Wyll agreed. "Perhaps...we part ways for a couple hours? We can meet back here. I think we could all do with a wander."

"Alright..." Tar'eon frowned slightly. "Just be careful. We don't know what's awaiting us at any corner of this place. If things get messy, portal back to camp and we'll meet you there if you're not here by sundown."

"A good plan." Wyll agreed. "Well...We will reunite at sundown." Wyll offered his arm to Gale. "Shall we?"

"Oh, uh...of course!" Gale hesitated before taking the arm, obviously not used to being the one who took up romance gestures rather than gave them.

"You've lived most of your life in Waterdeep, I'm to assume? Allow me to show you my home." Wyll smiled fondly as he led Gale down the street, lips moving in idle chatter that Tar'eon couldn't make out. He smiled at the pair.

"Those two just wanted to go on a date." Astarion shook his head. "Gods, it's almost too sweet."

"Didn't you also want to show me Baldur's Gate?" Tar'eon chuckled.

"Well...I'm more familiar with the Upper and Lower cities than Wyrm's Crossing, but they do have a few things I enjoy. Good tailors for one." Astarion's eyes drifted to the building in front of them. "Ah. I've been here before. I wonder..." He frowned thoughtfully and took Tar'eons bicep, pulling him along to follow him inside.

"What's this place?"

"Fraygo's Flophouse. I've been here a couple hundred times, but I preferred the Elfsong Tavern. Better booze, and a continuous rotation of fresh faces who hadn't been warned off not to stumble into my bed. After all, all my lovers were just so heartbroken after a night of passion with me they fled the city before dawn." He sighed dramatically before smirking. That had been a reoccurring rumour he thought quite funny. Much nicer than the reality of what he was doing with his victims.

"I see." Tar'eon looked around the lobby curiously, but Astarion beckoned him up the stairs. He wondered if it was still the same old place he remembered it being, even if it had only a couple months since he last saw it. Just as he predicted, his siblings were in their usual hunting ground. Seeing them still out past dawn was strange though. Considering they were staying in the shadows of the room, curtain drawn tight on their side, they were obviously still cautious of burning to a crisp.

"I want someone there, ready for me. And once the Mass is done and our lord grants us our freedom, I can celebrate by drinking them dry."

"Cazador promised you your freedom? And you believed him?" Astarion laughed in their faces as their stupidity. Two centuries of torture and they learned nothing. It was pathetic how gullible they were. "You were never burdened with intelligence, Petras, but your load seems especially light these days."

"Astar..." Tar'eon sighed. Must he rile up everyone they happened upon?

"Astarion? It- it cannot be..."

"That's no way to welcome back a brother, Dal. Didn't you miss me?" Astarion asked, feigning hurt before he smirked, gesturing to himself in all his new glory. Let them envy him. It would be a nice change from the pity they once bestowed upon him, being Cazador's favourite screamer.

"Why would you come back? You got out - you were free." Dalyria couldn't fathom it. If it had been her, she would have made herself disappear for good, never to be found again.

"We're here to kill Cazador. That's the only way you'll truly be free." Tar'eon explained. It would be better to have them on their side rather than against them.

"You- you can't mean that."

"He's playing mind games. He can't raise a hand to the master, let alone kill him." Petras barely restrained a scoff at the very notion. Astarion had always been the jester amongst them, making up for any lack of charisma with humour, which worked just the same.

"You have no idea what I can do." Astarion's eyes grew dark, much like that of a predator as he stepped forward and grabbed Petras by the throat, dragging him over to the sunlight coming through the opposite window.

"Astar-"

"No!" Dalyria didn't make a move to come any closer despite the anguish in her cry, terrified of burning away like Petras was beginning to, his skin becoming grey and cracked, ashen beneath the sunlight.

"Where is he hiding?" Astarion rasped, a scowl marring his features as his 'brother' struggled against his hold. "Tell me!"

Petras cried out in pain, unable to speak through the agony.

"Brother, please!" Dalyria's begged, and Tar'eon pursed his lips. He didn't like watching this either - he didn't like the way the Urge stirred in delight at the sight of Astarion's chilling cruelty.

"Astar, stop." He spoke firmly, and Astarion sneered, glaring down at Petras before he relented.

"Fine." He threw him aside, out of the light, and Petras stumbled back to his sisters side, his hand clamped around her wrist like she might be able to save him from the wrath of the eldest. "You owe your wretched life to my friend. Now tell me what I need to know."

"The master is preparing the Black Mass. Beneath his palace. There's a defiled chapel - it was hidden there the entire time. Hidden from us all." Dalyria broke, not wanting Astarion to take back his mercy. "Do you really think...you can stop him?" The wisp of hope in her voice broke Tar'eons heart.

"I'm the only one who can. The sun can't harm me, Cazador can't compel me. I don't need to fear him anymore." Astarion smirked. "Now go, before I change my mind about roasting you, brother."

"This isn't over, Astarion." Dalyria assured. Tar'eon reached into his pack and withdrew a healing potion, offering it to Petras who looked surprised.

"I'm not sure how much it'll help, but...it looks painful. Please - don't give up hope. You won't have to fear Cazador any longer once we're through with him." The vampire spawn took the potion, Dalyria's eyes widening ever so slightly at the compassion being shown to them by their brothers companion.

"I...thank you. Goodbye, brother." Dalyria whispered and the pair vanished.

"You're really too nice to them. They've killed just as many as I have." Astarion scoffed.

"I don't care for their misdeeds of the past. They didn't have control over themselves - and neither did you. Sometimes one act of kindness can change someone's life forever."

"They're fools. They actually think Cazador will save them..." Astarion frowned, hands on his hips.

"I'm glad you spared them." Tar'eon smiled. "You didn't have to. It probably would have done us more good to get rid of one of them, if only to ruin the ritual. But you didn't."

Astarion laughed.

"You sound surprised," Astarion's eyes were full of mirth. "I am capable of doing the right thing from time to time."

"I know you are. Still - I'm proud of you."

"They're no threat to us, and they have no choice but to do Cazador's bidding. I pity them. Worst of all, they don't know their fate is already set. They're doomed." He let out a small laugh. "The only question is whether their lives will be sacrificed to a monster like Cazador, or serve a...greater purpose."

Tar'eon scowled. He knew exactly where this was heading.

"You really can't let it go, can you?" He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Those sacrifices are your brothers and sisters. Are you really ready to doom them for your own gain?"

"Trust me, I'd rather slaughter someone else's family but...if that's what it takes." His words left a bitter taste on Tar'eons tongue. "And it's not like they're sweet innocents; they brought Cazador just as many victims as I did."

"Exactly. And you got the chance to be free of him. Don't they deserve that much as well?" Tar'eon challenged, and Astarion gave a loud sigh. This wasn't getting anywhere. They were going in circles.

"Never mind that. Now that we know he's skulking beneath his palace, we can take the hunt to Cazador. Now let's go. This place stinks of rat blood and despair." Tar'eon frowned and sniffed.

"You're right...I do smell blood." He looked upwards. It wasn't below them, or around them though. It was above. With a bit of sneaking about, they managed to find another room with help from the flower key they found in the temple, and of course, Astarion saw the blood first. The keen senses of a vampire, always drawn to the red stain.

Tar'eon pulled the body out from under the bed and frowned.

"Well...I have a good feeling this is connected to the murders."

"Shall I speak with him?" Astarion offered.

"Do you even know that spell?"

"Well, no, but...I did steal that lovely little necklace a while back from your pack that gives me the ability."

"I- I should have known." Tar'eon sighed and stepped back as Astarion closed his eyes, allowing the power of the amulet to run through him, the body rising. After a few questions, it was obvious these murders weren't just coincidental. Tar'eon swallowed when he heard the man speak of Bhaal cultists. No doubt Orin was behind this. All the more reason to sweep her off the board.

"Well then...I suppose we better talk to that flying elephant detective." Astarion mused. "I should have expected that Orin was going around with her own little murder cult. The woman is unhinged."

"Agreed..." Tar'eon could tell him now. Could tell Astarion the truth. That he had once led the cult himself, that he was a Bhaalspawn, but his throat clamped up shut. He couldn't do it. He was scared to admit it out loud. It would make it so much more real, especially if Astarion knew.

"Let's go speak with them. Then after...maybe we could go for a wander ourselves?" He offered and Astarion's eyes lit up.

"Are you asking me on a date?"

"I'm offering to pay for a visit to the tailors." Tar'eon smiled as Astarion laughed, clapping his hands.

"Oh, I knew I kept you around for a reason, darling." He saddled up to his side and took his arm, smirking up at the tiefling. "A new outfit is long overdue, I think. I know just the place; not as good as the Upper City tailors, but close enough."

If he was honest, the nicest things he ever wore were stolen, off bodies or from stores, or hand-me-downs from the favoured spawn Leon. He always got the nicest things - he was pretty sure it was only because he let Cazador sleep with him. Astarion could never go through with it, and he was pretty sure Cazador wasn't interested in him screaming in that sense. Strangers, he could manage, but Cazador? He would have puked on the man before he even undressed.

Most tailors were shut by the time he could leave the palace, so he only ever really got to admire fine fabrics through windows or on others. He had taken up embroidery after ten years with Cazador, so he could finally feel less like a wretched slave and more like a...well-dressed servant. It didn't matter the quality of his clothing; Cazador and Godey would bloody it or tear it eventually anyway. So, fixing his outfits himself had become habit. Now though, he could walk right into any tailors shop and pick the finest fabrics he desired without concern of them getting ruined. Outside of battle at least.

Astarion wouldn't say he enjoyed being on anyone's arm, he was not some damsel or courtesan, but he'd admit, seeing others envy him on the street because Tar'eon had offered his arm to him...Well, it was stroking his ego. Perhaps he was a possessive bastard, but did he not deserve only the finest things after everything he'd been through?

Tar'eon was by far the finest thing around, from what all the staring was telling him. He supposed with how tall he was, it was hard to miss him. Broad shoulders, his horns making him appear even larger and more devilishly charming, the scars on his face telling tales of bravery and battle - he was a hunk. Even if he didn't realise it himself. The slimming magical armour didn't ruin the appeal either.

Astarion hadn't really ever had a type from memory. There had been a few souls he brought back to Cazador that swayed his heart just a bit, but most of the people he brought back had been criminals or wretches, people who wouldn't be missed. They were usually terrible in bed, generally rude, and arrogant beyond belief. He'd been fucked with a blade to his throat or a hand around it more times than he could count. Tar'eon was a delight in comparison.

And he didn't mind that Astarion didn't want to fuck him. Or, well, couldn't for the sake of his mental health. He wasn't in this for his body. For some unfathomable reason, he actually liked him for his personality. Astarion's standards were getting higher, sure, but Tar'eons? They had to be on the floor to entertain dating a vampire with two hundreds worth of trauma and complete disregard of others. Even with their current disagreement on the ascension, Tar'eon did not withhold any affections from him.

It only made sense that he didn't want others to look at his devil. He'd scored something that was rare to come by. Thankfully, Tar'eon didn't seem to be looking at anyone else either. Not even lustfully. He did wonder how long it would be until Tar'eon decided he wanted to participate again in carnal pleasures, but Astarion wasn't sure when he'd be ready for that. Sure, he could suck it up and lay with the man occasionally, if only to keep him by his side, and it wouldn't even be completely horrible. Hells, it would likely be enjoyable for them both, but...he knew he wasn't ready yet. That all the disgust and loathing would crawl up on him the moment they were finished.

He couldn't betray himself like that, and he knew Tar'eon would beat himself up if he knew he was only doing it for his sake. So...he supposed if the time came, and Tar'eon did need that sort of thing, he'd allow him to bed another. He only worried that Tar'eon would discard him if he couldn't give that to him himself. If someone else could give him love and lust, why would he hang on to him, the wreck he was?

"Do you like it?" Tar'eon asked, drawing him from his thoughts. He blinked a few times and turned to look in the mirror. He couldn't see himself, but the outfit he was wearing was...gorgeous. Hand picked by Tar'eon, and suited to a prince from a story book. The suit was white, with golden embroidery travelling down the jacket, the collar high on his throat with lace cradling it to avoid the itchiness of the stiff fabric. To piece the look together was a red cravat.

Tar'eon reached around from behind and adjusted the red fabric, his eyes following his own fingers as he loosened it and retied it so it was straight, fluffing it out. He rested his hand on his shoulders and smiled softly. He wasn't looking in the mirror, but instead at Astarion.

"It suits you."

"I feel very...Lordly." Astarion admitted. "I like it. I just wish I could see what I look like in it."

"Turn around." Astarion rolled his eyes and turned to look at Tar'eon. The tiefling stepped back, standing at the bottom of the two steps, his eyes travelling over his body before closed them. Moments later, Astarion saw himself through the others eyes. The cravat was the exact shade of his eyes, and the white of his suit only made his curls seem brighter. Sunlight from the window behind him shone off the golden embroidery, and he practically glowed.

"You look beautiful." Tar'eon smiled, the connection fading. The back of Astarion's neck burned as he tucked his hair behind his ears.

"Yes, well...When aren't I?"

"Well, I might be biased, but never."

"Good answer." Astarion's eyes twinkled with mirth as he slipped his arms around his lovers neck, pressing a kiss to his lips. It was one of the rare moments where they were of equal height, if only because he was two steps higher than usual. "I'm afraid I didn't bring any gold with me..."

He pretended to be apologetic about it, looking away like he was saddened he wouldn't get his lovely new suit because of his 'forgetfulness', and Tar'eon laughed, more of a rumble of amusement than an airy sound.

"My treat. It's a gift, ph myirz."

"I do quite like your gifts." Astarion smirked, tugging gently on the ruby dagger dangling from his earlobe. "Careful now. Spoil me too much and you'll be stuck with me."

"Sounds perfect to me." Tar'eon squeezed his waist and kissed him again, lingering for a few moments before he pulled away. "I'll go pay. Don't forget your armour in the dressing room."

"Are you getting anything for yourself?" Astarion queried.

"Not today. I prefer to always be prepared for the inevitable battle." Tar'eon shrugged.

"Oh, come on. We're on a date. You should dress nicely." Astarion chuckled, picking dirt from under his nails.

"You look nice enough for the both of us, ph myirz." Tar'eon assured, kissing his cheek before departing to pay the tailor. It was pricey, sure, but well worth the smile on Astarion's face. He had a lot more gold than he let on. When weapons and jewellery were constantly being dropped at his feet after killing enemies, and books continuing to pile at their camp from the shelves he raided, well...sellers always wanted weapons, jewels and knowledge. They were willing to pay well for those things.

Astarion didn't wait for Tar'eon to offer his arm before he was taking it, an impish smile on his lips as they left the tailors. He stood taller now, dressed regally like he was from the Upper City. If Astarion thought they were getting stares before, it was nothing compared to now. He fed off the envy of the citizens around them, smirking to himself.

"You know what I could go for right now?" Astarion mused. Tar'eon hummed, waiting for him to continue. "A full-bodied red." He purred and the tiefling quirked a brow.

"I have a feeling you're not talking about wine."

"Why would I want that when you're just as sweet, darling?" His eyes gleamed, predatory, and Tar'eons heart skipped a beat.

"Well..." He bit his lip, looking around. "If you can find somewhere a little less crowded-"

"Perfect." Astarion grinned, dragging Tar'eon out of the street and into the shadows, his vision warring between greying out and keeping the focus on the colour of Tar'eons cheeks. He could hear his heart pumping harder, his blood rushing faster in excitement. It made him salivate.

"Are you sure this is-?" Tar'eon began, but Astarion cut him off before he could get consumed by his anxiety.

"The worse we'll be accused of is public indecency." Astarion chuckled as he pressed Tar'eon against the wall of the alleyway, pressing his body to his with a low purr of satisfaction, enjoying the heat that pulsated off his skin. It felt like far too long since he got to tease his beloved.

"As long as you're certain you can talk your way out of it should a guard see us." Tar'eon warned and Astarion almost giggled.

"Might be the highlight of their day - it would certainly be the highlight of mine." Astarion slipped his hand into the strands at the base of his skull, brushing the white ends out of the way of his throat as he guided his head back with a single thumb against his jaw. Tar'eon followed his touch, leaning back into it and baring his throat to his lover with practised ease.

"Good boy," Astarion praised and pressed a kiss to his throat, nuzzling the length of his neck. "You're surprisingly submissive, you know? Considering you look so domineering." He grazed his fangs over his pulse and delighted in the way it jumped.

"I...I like making you happy." Tar'eon tail swayed, brushing Astarion's leg before it wrapped around it loosely. Keeping him close.

"Well, you're doing a very good job, darling." Astarion purred before sinking his fangs into his neck. Tar'eon sucked in a sharp breath at the initial pain, the icy prick mellowing out into a hot sting, Astarion's cool lips soothing the pain away. He groaned softly and closed his eyes, one hand against the wall to keep himself steady, and the other hand on his back as Astarion drank greedily.

The first few gulps were always taken with greed, with fervour, like he was a man who had been dying for a cup of water after a hot summers day. Then, it slowed, the vampire savouring the taste with a low moan, his sucklings feeling more like kisses, smearing blood over his collar and licking up the steady fall as it trailed down his neck. He was being messy with it today, and Tar'eon couldn't help the way his breath caught and his stomach pooled with heat the more Astarion lavished his neck with his tongue.

His hand slipped up his back, cradling the back of his head, and Astarion swore softly against his jaw, nipping at the faintest hint of stubble. Tar'eon tried to keep himself clean shaven, he preferred the look, but the way Astarion nuzzled against his jaw like an affectionate cat made it tempting to let it grow out a few more days. He hissed when Astarion bit down again, higher than before, lapping at the wound. Not even his hair would be able to hide that one.

He had a feeling that was Astarion's goal.

The vampire licked his lips and pulled back, blood smeared across his lips and chin. His eyes were almost black from how blown out they were, licking his bloodied teeth.

"I don't what it is today, but you taste divine, darling." Astarion leaned back in and licked the blood from his throat, a pink stain on his skin, but that wasn't exactly avoidable now.

"I can tell. You bit me twice."

"Oh, did I?" Astarion hummed, playing dumb. "Apologises, my love." He thumbed at the blood on the corner of his mouth and sucked it off. "I'm terribly dirty; do you have a cloth?"

"I do." Tar'eon chuckled and put his pack down, ignoring his less than holy reaction to Astarion's feeding. He was a little woozy, but it was something that could be fixed with a spell later, or a long nights rest. He took out a carter of water and a rag, wetting it and wiping his neck off before he took Astarion's jaw in hand and cleaned him up too. The vampire pulled a face at being manhandled, but allowed it seeing as he just drank half of the man down. He wasn't naive either - he knew he riled Tar'eon up with his frivolous feeding. He wasn't going to say anything though, not unless Tar'eon did.

"There. How you managed not to get it on your new outfit is a miracle." Tar'eon remarked as he chucked the rag aside and put the water back in his bag.

"Well, I can't go ruining my new gift so soon." Astarion chuckled, looking up at the sky. "Ah, it'll be sunset soon. Best not to make the Blade and his wizard worry."

"Well, we found out where Cazador is, what Orin's cultists are up to, got you a new outfit and you had your dinner so...I'd say it was an eventfully afternoon."

"It really was, wasn't it?" Astarion laughed as he led him out of the alleyway. Tar'eon was hoping nobody would remark on the twin pin pricks on his throat, but he knew immediately when he saw Gale, Wyll, and surprisingly Jaheria, that they all knew and were judging him. His cheeks flushed.

"Would you like me to restore your blood, solider?" Jaheria sounded amused.

"Oh yes, it'll serve me well when I go for dessert later tonight." Astarion grinned.

"Your outfit is quite lavish, Astarion." Gale noted. "Did you pay for that yourself?"

"Well, with how much I do for this party? Practically paid in labour." Astarion inspected his nails and smirked at the wizard.

"Our leader is quite generous." Wyll chuckled.

"How did you like the town, Gale?" Tar'eon asked, wanting to change the subject before he became as red as the devil.

"Well, the shops were nice, nothing grand - I think once we get into the city, I'll have much more to explore. I see you two enjoyed your time out, but I'm afraid we were dragged into another battle with shapeshifters, the shifty bastards."

"We met Jaheria while shopping; she was on her way to meet her fellow Harpers, but unfortunately, only one fellow was left after everything."

"I should have expected them to be infiltrated." Jaheria sounded bitter nonetheless. "The boy - I was ready to let him go, but Wyll made some good points. We need all the allies we can get with Red Orin getting her bloody hands in our business. I will tell you more back at camp."

"I leave you lot alone for a couple hours and you pick a fight." The tiefling mused.

"Trouble finds us even without you around, you know?" Gale chuckled.

"Come on. I'm starved - what're you making tonight?" Wyll asked and Gale laughed.

"What do you feel like?"

"Ah, a man after my own heart." Wyll shook his head with a wide smile. "I'll see you back at camp." In a flash of ancient magic, he disappeared, Gale chuckling as he vanished as well. Jaheria gave the couple a nod before following, leaving Tar'eon and Astarion alone.

"Let's hope for a restful night. Especially for you. I know you haven't been sleeping well."

"It's all the usual stuff. Don't worry about me." Tar'eon squeezed his shoulder.

"How can I not?" Astarion tutted and flashed away. Tar'eon huffed out a chuckle and looked over into the distance. He pulled out the poster from his pocket and read over the details. The coronation would be tomorrow, in the Fortress. There, Lord Enver Gortash would become Archduke.

Tomorrow, he would finally face the man who plagued his thoughts and dreams.

Tomorrow, he finally got the answers to his questions.

[swndmehelp]

I am very bored so I will be rambling about my dragon age hero’s just because. Maybe just talk about how they get along with each companion. I’ll add a photo or doodle of them so you know what they look like.

It’s all under the cut, I wrote a lot more than I thought I would. I’m so sorry.

Vara Surana (Hero of Fereldan):

My favorite one, if I’m honest. I probably just like her so much because she’s from the first game, and I LOVE Origins. I love all the characters, the story, though I hate to admit it, it’s the only of the three games I haven’t finished. I’m working on it I promise.

Her romance is Alistair (hes my favorite, basic I know). She doesn’t make him king and they live happily ever after. Honestly I just LOVE their romance, makes me all giddy and everything. I have a thing for good relationships in games. I love it when you get Alistair to talk about the Warden in Inquisition and he just talks about how much he loves her and how he wants to make her life easier. I LOVE HIM AHDBDOS.

Anyways, Vara loves all her other companions. She gives Sten his cookies before he goes back to the Qun, a lot of cookies. She’s with Oghren at Ameranthine so she does things often with him. Writes Wynne and Leliana as much as she can. Wynne is her grandma, being raised in the circle she never had a real family (except Irving), Wynne was the group grandma. Zevran probably bothers her as much as he can until she disappears. And Morrigan, uh, idk, she probably doesn’t talk to her until they meet again at the Inqusition.

Vara, uh, she’s pretty decent. She’s probably got PTSD from everything that happened before, during, and after the blight. Her life was a shit show from the start. It just got worse when she became a Gray Warden. That’s probably why Alistair says he wants to make things easier for her, that she deserves that much. (I FUCKING LOVE ALISTAIR UUUUUGGH).

Maya Hawke (Champion of Kirkwall):

Uuugh Hawke, I love Hawke. She’s a goofball up until Anders (spoilers) BLOWS UP THE FUCKING CHANTRY. She is altered man. Part of it is probably because she was romanced to Anders, at first I was doing Fenris then on my second play through, already knowing what was happening I purposely romanced him just for the angst. I forgot to mention I also love doomed romance. Anyways Hawke fucking killed Anders, poof, dead.

I think the only companions she really ever stays in contact with is Varric and Merrill. Everyone else is just gone, done with Hawke and everything else. Given Gameln is her only living family, and he doesn’t exactly like her especially after her mothers death, she doesn’t talk with him. Varric is her bff though, Merrill coming in a close second.

Okay, I know Hawke didn’t get a lot of writing and I’m sorry. (If people are even reading all my yapping lmao). Anyways, Hawke has SEVERE survivors guilt. First her sister died, she got blamed for that by both her mother and brother (though Carver apologized right after and I love him so I’ll never be mad at him for it), the Carver died, she definitely blamed herself for that, then her mother. She probably didn’t leave her estate for a week after her mother died, probably didn’t even leave her room. Then she killed Anders, that was her breaking point. Her guilt took away whoever she was before and just makes her absolutely miserable all the time. I love her, she deserves better (I made everything that happened to her happen to her, I had complete control over it :)) ).

Sorry I don’t have any good photos of Hawke on hand, this is a very old drawing. She doesn’t look like this anymore.

Ayla Levellan (Inquisitor):

Finally Levellan, my absolute sweetheart of an elf. She’s probably the nicest of the three hero’s, trying her hardest (but failing to) avoid violence. If anyone was mean to her she would probably cry, for example when she was talking to Dorian for that quest where you have to talk with his father she says she thinks he should go talk with him and Dorian says, “I didn’t ask what you thought, did I?” Ayla would have sobbed in her quarters right after that, if not in front of him. I’m just happy Dorian apologized right after, I love their dynamic.

Ayla absolutely adores all her companions and advisors. She’s romanced to Cullen (basic again I KNOW), I just feel like they’re a perfect fit. Cullen is so sweet to her and I just feel like they just click. If she were a male inquisitor the romance would be Dorian, sue me.

Anyways. She didn’t let Backwall get killed even after his betrayal, she loves doing pranks with Sera just because. Though she does always feel bad after. She reads the Swords and Shields with Cassandra. Iron Bull tries to train her, she’s always sore after that. Her and Cole running around helping people, her favorite being the time they gave flowers to everyone. She’s terrified of Solas (trespasser messed her up). She’s also scared of Vivienne but for different reasons. Josephine and Vivienne dress her up, like pick her clothes for her everyday, Ayla is Dalish and has no sense of style. I like thinking Vara came to the Inquisition just because I said so, so her, Hawke, and Ayla all hand out.

Dorian and Ayla’s relationship is so dear to me. They’re like siblings, it’s awesome. The whole inquisition feels like some sort of a whole found family trope, more so than all the other games. I just love it. But I love the relationship between Ayla and Dorian, they’re just so dear to me I can’t. And Ayla and Varric’s relationship reminds me of a sort of parent-child relationship, almost like how Varric and Solas are to Cole. Wholesome I know.

When Hawke is with in Inquisition she normally stays with Vara or Varric, they’re tight. Or she bothers Cullen just because. Vara normally stays with Alistair but she also talks with Leliana or Morrigan, also Ayla and Hawke. Really she’ll talk with anyone who talks with her. Though Vara is definitely terrified of Morrigan’s little demon baby, no matter what she will be scared of that little 10 year old boy. She’ll shit herself.

Neither Hawke or Alistair die because I said so, shut up. I love Au’s where everyone lives and is happy.

My Inquisitor is definitely very anxious all the time, but I also like to think (just how I play her and everything) she any be on the spectrum. Just a thought though.

Another old photo, I really gotta redraw these losers omg.

[recurring-polynya]

Writing/Art Update 3/14/2023

So. The fanfic.

Man, when I started writing fanfic, I would just think up a story and write it, no plan, only write. It was fun. I think most people write fanfic this way. Anyway, I don't know if my brain broke, or if I just used up all my good material, or what, but the more fanfic I wrote, the more work it takes. I am now a regular outliner, even though I hate it. Anyway, I have reached a new level of Using Things I Learned in English class, in the sense that I think I'm going to actually make a second (third?) draft.

I hate this for me.

Anyway, the upshot is that I've got, like, 90% of the scenes written. There are still 4 that need endings (including the final one), and I think I might need a few more scenes, but I'm not sure exactly what they should be. I have some notes for what they might be. I realized while writing this that the penultimate scene/chapter of a fanfic is often the most important one, and I'm not happy with the one I have, so I gotta figure that out.

In any case, though, the problem I have at the moment is that, partially as a consequence of writing this thing one sentence at a time, is that it's not necessarily coherent. The first thing I need to do is actually read it, top to bottom. Some of the scenes need to get moved around chronologically (I knew this when I wrote them). I need to figure out if this thing has any sort of trajectory or arc to it. If I can do that, I think it will help me figure out what scenes I still need, and how to end the ones I need to end. I am mildly embarrassed, but I think I am going to start yet another doc for this, but maybe if I call it a "draft", it won't be so bad.

I feel like once I get to the other side of this process, I'll have the end in sight and I'll feel a lot better about this thing, but it's very intimidating at the moment. Among the worst writing feelings I have is "there is something wrong with this story and I don't know how to fix it" and I know I have to pass through that valley.

Weekly numbers: Current word count is 15,457 (which includes a few hundred trash words). I guess I didn't write down my exact word count last week, but that somewhere on the order of +2000-2400. I guess that also includes some that were pasted over from the original doc. It doesn't really matter, a lot of those words were hard fought, and I feel okay about the amount of effort I put in this week, especially considering I had other stuff going on. I also wrote 500 words on the spicy fanfic.

I said I was going to draw this week and I didn't do a lot, but I did do a couple of Mike Mignola skull studies. Little P said these were "some cool skulls, Mom", which was nice, since she hated my Menos ("I don't like the hands. I don't like the witch nose. I don't like them.") Anyway, a lot of improvement between sketch 1 and sketch 2 and I finally found an excuse to use my "photocopy error" brushes. Gonna try to do a few more of these, maybe even see if I can manage to do an actual drawing in this style.

Hrrrnnnngggh, did I promise you a preview this week? This would be easier if I had already read the fanfic, the thing I have been dreading.

UGH, brb.

Okay, I'm back, I found one that'll do. If you missed it last week, this story is about the time Rukia and Renji spent at the District 70 Consolidated Shinigami Recruitment Station, trying to get pre-approval to travel north and take the Shin'ou Entrance Exams. The title is either going to be Go Places or Stay with Me, Go Places, I haven't decided yet. Either way, it's after the New Pornographers song that I listened to incessantly while writing this.

They have each been given a set of practice clothing-- sturdy cotton kimonos and hakama. Even though she’s wearing the smallest set Mr. Mochida had, Rukia’s hakama are pulled up under her armpits and still drag on the ground. This is somewhat humiliating.

Renji, on the other hand, looks perfect in his, like whoever invented hakama did so with him in mind. Furthermore, he’s holding an actual wooden practice sword like he died with one in his hands. Renji has been habitually picking up sticks and swinging them around the entire time she’s known him. It is obvious to Rukia that he belongs here, that he was meant for this. His face looks like all his dreams have finally come true.

Mr. Mochida holds his own sword expertly and calmly. “Go ahead,” he says, patiently. 

Renji runs at him swinging.

Mr. Mochida blocks the blow, pushing Renji off to one side. He shakes out his sword arm. “Good. Again.”

Renji has no skill at swords, but he has a lot of enthusiasm, and he has a lot of strength. Mr. Mochida doesn’t seem to have even broken a sweat by the time Renji is panting and exhausted, but he claps her friend on the shoulder and tells him he has a lot of talent.

Don’t tell him that! Rukia wants to scream. He’ll be unbearable!

“You’re next, Miss Rukia.”

Renji comes to take her place on the sidelines as Rukia takes up her own sword. It’s puny compared to the one Renji carries, and it’s still too long for her.

“You can do it,” he tells her. “You just have to push part of yourself into the sword, make it stronger.”

She nods, as if that makes any damn sense.

Rukia tries to imitate Mr. Mochida’s stance, knees slightly bent. She contemplates the weapon in her hands. It’s not a rock or a shard of glass or even a shiv. It’s just for practice, but it’s the size and shape of a weapon and you can certainly hurt someone with it. You and me, Rukia thinks at the sword. We can do some damage, you and me.

Push part of yourself into the sword. Maybe that’s not such nonsense after all.

She charges.

[kakusu-shipping]

mafia AU for koro-sensei👀

mafia AU: who is the ruthless leader? who is their loyal second in command? give one headcanon about you and your f/o’s relationship in this AU!

-@i-put-the-s4p-in-s4pphic

Tecnecally I think it'd be Yakuza sense we're in Japan... but also old school Mafia aesthetic my beloved <3

These designs were the most fun I've done thus far, ESPECIALLY Koro-Sensei. Maybe I should draw him in pants more often...

Koro-Sensei - The boss, currently the most wanted man in Japan. Recently though he lost someone very important to him and, in attempting to carry out her final wishes, is attempting to make amends. Now his gang is basically a non-profit. They clean up garbage off the streets, plant flowers in public gardens, help people carry their groceries home, play vigilante at night in areas with low police density, and are all and all upright citizens when you ignore all the crimes of the past. The scar over his eye is fake, he draws it on himself every morning.

Karma - Koro-Sensei's loyal right hand, was kicked out of junior high for picking fights and picked up by Koro-Sensei for his brilliant mind and ruthlessness. He swears he'll follow Koro-Sensei anywhere, and while he thinks this whole cleaning up the neighborhood is stupid and pointless, he'll keep that promise. He still itches to fight, and thus is usually on vigilante patrol. In junior high he never hit anyone who didn't already have it coming, and he is actually rather relieved to be living by those morals again. Koro-Sensei also signed Karma's legal documents to get him back into school, though now he's stuck in E-Class.

Emile - Runs a No Questions Clinic in the neighborhood Koro-Sensei's gang run around in, and is their main source of medical aid. He asks no questions and doesn't answer to cops, making him the perfect place for the mob to turn to when they need help. The only patient to ever pass in his hospital was Aguri, he still dwells on what he could have done better that might of saved her. Sense Koro-Sensei went clean he's had less patients, which he doesn't mind. Koro-Sensei still drops by to chat, and invites him out to local places to eat for fun often.

Nagisa - A student of class 3-E, he's also an amateur detective on the side. He'd been keeping track of the local Mafia for a while now sense suspecting his teacher, Aguri, of somehow having a connection to them. Sense she disappeared he's been hot on the case, along side her little sister, Akari, searching for answers. Karma purposefully avoids Nagisa's questions, and tells him to ask the Boss himself what happened. Koro-Sensei would answer Nagisa and Akari truthfully, but they just can't ever seem to catch him to ask.

Karasuma - Local Police, he's been working his ass off for YEARS now trying to catch Koro-Sensei to put him away for good, just for the bastard to suddenly scrub himself clean of Mafia activity and start acting all Good and Pure by using his wealth to clean up the neighborhood. Something shady is happening, Karasuma is sure of it, and he will not let it stand. He's constantly antagonizing Koro-Sensei, trying to find anything wrong in his actions to bring him in. It never works, and Koro-Sensei walks every time...

Aaaah I've never drawn Karma or Nagisa before so this was fun!!! Loyal Right hand didn't suit me, but Karma for sure follows Koro-Sensei around like a lovesick puppy <3

The original idea was to split the class between Mafia and Police, but they're just kids... They shouldn't be involved in such things... So the majority of them are just regular Class E students. Who's their teacher sense Aguri is still dead this AU? A handful of various Volunteers from Koro-Sensei's gang of course! Various assassins from canon who graciously give their time to teach Aguri's kids best they can. Koro-Sensei's just too busy to do so himself.

[conkniving]

banner resource. banner edited by @thvnderr

tw: drug abuse, murder/death mention, child neglect

i. the lovers' mask

a tale called the moon's anguish that has circulated anchorage for the past several decades has prompted some young lovers to exchange masks as a promise of devotion. what design would your muse theoretically think fits them?

fallon encompasses the phrase "blind in love" partially because she never knows until it's too late that she had been in love, and partially because she can't see any way out of it. for the better or worse. a perfect depiction of that would be a venetian mask without eyelets. stark white, littered with scratch writing over the entire face of it, containing pop culture quotes and quotes from the person in question — all to guide fallon in her sightlessness.

some might consider them leading a double life if they knew about...

stating something about the bastards is too easy an answer. it's nearly a given, though no one would dare publicly question fallon about her affiliation if they didn't fear immediate retaliation as they should. rather, a double life could be said about the covert addict life. it's easy to hide behind the booze and the pot as just facets of her lifestyle, a cigarette always to adorn the lips. but behind the backs of those she loves the most, tucked in dark corners and walking lonely streets, there's the surreptitious use of coke. and the desire for something more. stronger. intravenous...

what would be their own deal breaker in a relationship? would they die for love or kill for money?

betrayal. most can be forgiven but to stab fallon in the back after she trusted she could bare the vulnerable side of herself is to ensure a swift end to any relationship. and it won't be clean either. but if one were to be lucky enough to get beneath the armour, to touch the flesh and its weaknesses, she would certainly die for love. that's not to say she wouldn't kill for money, either.

they only have enough change for one call at the phonebooth, and someone with glaring red eyes and a spatula is standing across the street. who will they call?

stella, clarifying she only has a couple minutes to pull up before fallon takes care of this herself. or truthfully: sarai. just to let someone with medical expertise know where she is — whether it means fallon's the one who winds up injured or the creep is unclear.

ii. the zeitgeist of the 90's

their favourite slasher film is...

the slumber party massacre series. in general, fallon likes any slasher or horror film — the more b-rated, the better. satisfying her penchant for trashy media, the series is the sort that she can throw on her tv and let play in the background softly as if it's any other vinyl record to another.

in their free time, they enjoy going out and...

thrifting. it's not like fallon has a lot of cash to throw on on non-essentials: rent, food for her and cerberus, the gang, and her drugs. sweet thing grunge looks good second-hand, and she has an amateur hand at repairing an article to her standards. there's a balance of looking dirty and actually being dirty, the latter of which she despises. thrifting at consignment stores is a random activity that might draw the eye of those perplexed to discover her sifting through the racks, and then it starts to make sense. big headphones crowning her head and shielding her ears, a couple hangers draped over a shoulder while she inspects the cargo pants she knows she can dye black in her tub to fit the aesthetic; and if she only happens to find a shirt or belt she likes, it's easy to slip it on as part of the outfit and no one is the wiser.

a fashion fad of the times they adore that their friends would despise is...

the spiky space buns hairstyle. even a singular bun, as long as it's got straightened ends that jut out as if they're truly sharp, fallon will wear them despite the fact it's not exactly "hard" of her to do so.

how often do they order delivery from peppy's pizzeria? have they ever seen the walls ooze green slime in the pizzeria or the animatronics move on their own during their time in anchorage?

often. fallon doesn't like to cook unless it's easy and there's not enough in the budget to splurge on something more than dehydrated packets of ramen. peppy's subpar pizza is perfect as part of a hangover remedy or a pick-me-up after a long day that's become day. and due to those occurrences that often warp reality ( and not to mention the years of drug use ) fallon has caught movement in the peripheries that she chalks up to her own psychosis and paranoia playing tricks on her.

when they believed in christmas, were they told krampus would pay them a visit for being on the naughty list?

christmas wasn't a fixture in fallon's household even after they moved stateside. the whole knowledge of krampus came from fallon's own delve into folklore in high school, satiating that need for the dark and gritty, and was the whole inspiration for her own snowman she entered into the contest simply because she thought it would be funny to include something grotesque among the adorable entries. what she does believe in? karma. and it certainly divined exaction on her for that act since the krampus snowman had been "stolen" and implicated with the new year's atrocities. in a way... did krampus pay a visit for fallon's naughtiness?

what tall tale or superstition were they told as a child that still gives them the heebie jeebies?

when fallon first heard about w*ndigos. something about cannibalistic fiends morphed of humans prowling in the wilderness all across the world frightened her terribly as a child. even now, when she looks out into the woods from the motel, she can envision a twisted creature staring back, hopeful to devour her heart.

iii. the curse of the spider

are there family secrets or so-called curses that haunt them? ones that are known publicly or follow them figuratively?

until recently, fallon never spared another thought about her parents since she had moved out more than a decade ago. not as though they ever attempted to contact her either. which was fine, but perhaps she would have hoped they cared enough to tell her that the debts they left unpaid for so long had begun to catch up to her. haunting her now, both in the relationship it destroyed and the paranoia that she were to be snatched up at any moment, is the price of her head for her father's sins.

which of the seven sins would corrupt their morals?

wrath. that blind fury. it could turn her against every virtue she holds dear, the very people she would never want to lay a hand on. it wouldn't let go until she blinking back to awareness and she's left with the aftermath of her own possession.

the world remains the same for decades now. is ignorance bliss? or is there the shaky sense something is amiss that can't be ignored?

ignorance is bliss. fallon doesn't care ( or doesn't even realize ) that the world doesn't appear to have changed in an abnormally long period of time.

dreams are often influenced by the subconscious and sometimes distorted. in their deepest, darkest nightmares, how do they view themselves?

like a kicked dog. that she will never amount to anything more. that her time will come and pass, and no one will have noticed. utterly forgettable. unlovable.

iv. the crooked frame

what is their death wish? the perfect crime was constructed and someone else took their place. how did they originally die?

fallon is largely unaware of her own imposter. and she hopes that when her due is ready to be collected, that it goes swiftly. a bullet to the back of the head. dead before she hits the ground. originally? she had already been her parents' collateral once. a test subject sold off to wipe the slate clean and rid themselves of a burden. only, she came back... and different. wrong.

the muse couldn't be the one behind the tunnel of love outage because when the power went out, they were...

fucking stuck in there. the bruises on her waist indicate the fervor in which she escaped the metal confines of the ride trying to bar her there.

what would they consider their calling card?

haphazard drawing of a spiky, feral rat. in the dirt. in graffiti. in blood.

those with intermediate technical skills have used cracks and vpn's to improve the internet connection, but anything post-dating the 1990's is only accessible through the dark web. has the muse ever accessed the dark web? have they used it for any nefarious means or to purchase services?

fallon has never personally accessed it with her complete lack of technical skill. but she does have contacts, and therefore, been able to use the dark web for personal and work purposes. some jobs have been completed in order for some quick cash to supply the bastards, and she has been able to stock up on paraphernalia through these means.