#but maybe if i do it willingly it would help? and then i dont feel so bad for forgetting that it screw up other days

[daily-crabbys]

i think saturday being between meme fridays and submission sundays is a little weird bc it'll get overshadowed by the other two, so i think im going to make it special by making it a "dont post" day

i usually forget to post on saturdays anyways and i think having a day dedicated to a break would help me be more consistent on the other days lol

[otterloreart]

Steps of creating a 3D model replica from scratch

trace photos of character from available and cleanest angles. attempt to get a 90 degree*, front and back, side profile and straight on of the face. save additional reference photos such as bottom of body, back, and various extra angles without tracing which may help reference later on.

*more on angles later, but trying to get a 90 degree from each side is the most realistic and practical option if you dont actually have the character you're copying

2. block out the body and head

and by block i mean, yeah, its made out of elaborate rectangles

4 aha, you thought I would hand sculpt those? no. no. I used the curve tool to add these swirls. And yes i exactly traced them over the drawings to match the original as best as possible. The end of the curve tool is flat by default so I added a few spheres to make the ends nice and round. (there is absolutely a way to make the ends of curves rounded but I did not feel like looking it up or messing with the settings)

this wasn't mirrored to the other side- I traced both sides of the body and the front from photos and sculpted the swirls for each side. I couldn't get a single photo of the swirls at the butt area so I just winged it.

6 I am struggling to not make Cha Cha look angry.

I feel like the eyes are basically traced off the original and yet she looks so much grumpier. maybe it just needs to be smoothed out?

I added a little definition to the area around the eyes and I do think it looks a little better. The more definition I add in this stage the better, because I prefer this to sculpting. However, if you're more adept at sculpting you would probably not make this as detailed.

7 Here she is after smoothing everything out in sculpt after remeshing, in both Eevee (left) and Cycles (middle/right). still trying to figure out how best to render things. For some reason her nose ended up lighter in cycles but i cant be bothered to fix that rn

On the previous step I made the elements of her face + ears mirrored but once I start sculpting I'm not using the mirror tool. In fact nothing ends up mirrored, even the back right foot is slightly shifted in position.

this is probably not even the final version, I think i might redo the smooth/sculpt part and fiddle with the underlying shapes (basically go back a step)

Cha Cha's face. is one of the most difficult things to sculpt. It is extremely difficult to understand the shape of the underlying sculpt because there aren't any photos of her with the eye paint removed. There are so few of her out there I don't think anyone would willingly remove the paint to make a custom or anything unless it was in truly awful condition, and I dont think that has ever happened.

I have saved dozens of references from a number of different sites- these pics here are from etsy, the above was from the wiki. Her eyes are different from every single other pony and pony and friends- they're so bulging, so round, the eyelashes are longer. It's wild.

I can only see all the things that are wrong with it.

It's basically impossible to get something like this 100% perfect unless you have like, a set of turnaround photos all from the same angle that you can match up to the camera. You can basically overlap references with the camera view but you will never know the exact angle so if you make edits from multiple angles like this you'll inevitably not match each angle and then have to go back and adjust the angles and then you're fiddling with it infinitely. That's why I usually go for the "trace 4 angles and make the rest up as you go along" method.

I don't want to spend _too_ long on every model I make- the Takara pony which took 6 months really shows how far down the rabbit hole I will go with something like this, and it's just not practical. But I think with a slight amount of fiddling I can match the reference a little better.

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

Hiiii!!!! Uuhh sorry I get a bit awkward to approach new people but oh my god I needed to say that I absolutely love your work!! Im truly a fan!! Your Fierce Deity fics bring me to life and I cant stop thinking about it <333

Not sure if this idea is interesting enough but I cant stop thinking about it and I thought you could maybe like it!!

I keep thinking about Reader talking with the Fierce Deity's mask (imagining he still sealed in the mask) like he was physically there, just rambling. We could show him the sky and the grass, mundane things, talk about our thoughts and ask questions to him, like what is it like to be a god and if he is happy with his life.

One question that also pops a lot in my mind is asking what gods thought of humans or maybe, what he thought of them, of us!! Ofc he doesnt respond bc he is inside the mask but then one day he is off of it and he remembers each and every question we ever asked, and is willing to answer them all NFKENFKWFKWKKFKWKDKW

Its just an idea, you dont really have to do it, but everytime I think about it or Fierce in general, I cant help but also think about you <333

Im really glad I found your work!! I hope we can be friends!! :DDD

I wish you a lovely day my little leaf!! Toodlessss 🍃🍃🍃

𖠰 Woods 𖠰

Okay first of all, this idea this absolutely amazing!! I'll have you know I was practically VIBRATING with excitement while reading this! You have no idea how stoked I am to receive asks like this, so do not feel bad at all for sharing! Also what we're literally already besties <3

Man In The Mask

Pairing: Fierce Deity x Reader

Warning(s): N/A

Masterlist

What are you?

It was a question the Fierce Deity had heard a thousand times, often accompanied by blood and blaze: a question of those he protected... and those he did not, whispered on the heels crimson-dripped lips and frightful eyes. He was a god of war, and thus not one to engage in the folly of mortals. Orders were his foundation, and steel his soul, wrapped in a righteous evil that not even the goddesses could bear to gaze upon.

Which is why he felt nothing short of hedonistic when it fell from the lips of the paltry mortal's holding the wretched mask that trapped him centuries earlier. Voice soft and eyes softer, touch featherlight on the chipped edges of his prison. There were thumbs on the apples of his 'cheeks', and the deity was caught between rage and sorrow. Tumultuous emotions were not his strong suit, and neither was restraint, from the way things were looking.

He didn't need to stand before them to feel their weakness, as was typical of most humans, but there was an ember in your eyes that seemed to burn with a light he didn't dare remember, shining like a beacon in the night.

"I wonder who painted you," the human, you, mused, stroking again over the half-glossed finish of the mask. Gentle, comforting, and utterly indecipherable to the deity inside. "You're so dusty; did Time even polish you?"

Why... Why was that relevant? Never in his wildest thoughts had the Fierce Deity expected Time to intrust his 'care' to a human, much less you. His very existence was a burden; how could a so-called hero willingly place something so... so destructive in the hands of, well, he considered you quite innocent to the tribulations of war and bloodshed and sorrow.

But what could he do but wait, snug under your arm, as you prattled on about anything and everything. The notion that you were naive enough to talk to a mere mask, of all things. Had you no sense? No discretion? It was a question he often asked himself, though only because there was no one else to answer.

That didn't stop his dull wonderings on whether you would ask such questions if he stood before you in the flesh. Would you cower? Fight? Flee? Perhaps he would remember the words that fell from your mouth, just to prove himself right once again.

***

The Fierce Deity mask weighed heavy in your hands as you plodded down the small path towards home. A thick forest bordered you from the east, while a blooming prairie stretched as far as the eye could see from the west. There was no doubt in your mind that you were incredibly lucky to live where you did, a fact that was only exemplified by the nine heroes that had crashed into your life (and living room) through a portal that looked straight out of Coraline or some shit.

Never in a million years would you have expected Time, the distrustful forest child he was, to entrust anything to you, much less a mask that supposedly held the spirit of one of the greatest entities of his world, but you supposed it was only proof that miracles did still exist. Maybe.

Either way, you had taken up the mantle of caring for the mask, and there was no way in hell you were going to screw up. Not that Time would let you, the worrywart, and you were only just beginning to catch him not staring holes into your back.

Chronic mother hens aside, it didn't take a genius to figure out there was something terribly wrong with the item tucked under your arm. Whether it was the crimson and navy facial markings or innocuous radiation of something akin to evil, you had no doubt that Time's warnings were not in jest.

Despite this, you couldn't quite shake the idea of a soul being trapped inside, well, the mask was practically a prison at this point. And maybe, just maybe, you felt a modicum of guilt at the entity's fate. Had he deserved it? Perhaps. Was it cruel? Without a doubt.

Which is why you found yourself taking the Fierce Deity's mask with you when you went to the store, or the library, or simply for a walk in the forest, tucked in your satchel to protect from prying eyes, though you always adjusted the cover so at least one of the eyeholes was free to gaze upon the wonders of your world. It was a small mercy that you were willing to afford, one that quickly spiraled into conversation with the mask itself. You always had a habit of speaking out loud, and now you, presumably, had an ear to listen.

But it was all speculation at this point; Time had never outright confirmed whether a living creature resided within the painted oak, only that it was imbued with an evil so ancient it could challenge the goddesses. You had stopped listening at that point, muttering 'drugs' under your breath, but there was always hope in your tone when you reminisced about the world around you.

With a sigh, you stopped, bringing the mask to the forefront of your vision, thumbs instinctually tracing the crimson stripes on the cheeks. It was baffling that something so beautiful could feel so wrong in your hands. You desperately wished to uncover the truth, to breathe in the big reveal and revel in the known mysteries of life.

"What are you?" The words slipped off your tongue like silk, right enough that you could have chalked it up to fate. The mask felt warm, basked in the fading rays of the golden sun, and you had the distinct feeling of being watched. The pads of your thumbs stroked the raised cheeks of the mask, disturbing a thin layer of dust, as more words spilled forth. "You're so dusty; did Time even polish you?"

It felt strange, talking to the mask as if it was a person, but you were too intrigued to care. If an entity truly resided within, you wondered what he thought of you. Was he impressed? Disgusted? Resigned? You had grown up with the belief that if gods truly existed, their disappointment would be without bounds, but that assumption didn't feel accurate when you stared at the shadowed skin of your palms through the eyeholes.

What horrors had a deity of this caliber seen through eyes of oak... and why were you so desperate to find out?

***

The Fierce Deity was convinced you were either crazy or stupid.

Night had fallen some time ago, filling your small quarters with only the pale light of the moon. His prison sat propped against the contraption you called a 'lamp', facing the bed in which you slept. Your nighttime routine was... unusual, to say the least. In his time, maidens wore long shifts to sleep, while here, you had treated him to the ludicrous sight of what could only be described as the shortest britches he had the displeasure of viewing and a sleeveless rag of a tunic that looked as though you wore it to a scuffle with a large animal, not to mention the sheer audacity you had to undress before the mask without regard for decency. Had the Hero of Time not informed you of his status in this wretched prison, because it was as though you had forgotten or simply didn't care at all?

Whatever the case, it was with much dread that the Fierce Deity only found himself more attracted to the mortal cursed with his care. Your life was, at most, mundane, yet you spoke as though every day was a great adventure, in a tone that could have inspired countless scribes into a flurry of activity. More shocking, however, was how he could feel himself clinging to your every word, like a dog waiting for scraps. He had been alone for so long, and the reality that a mere mortal considered him, well, mortal enough to converse with was a reality he never imagined contesting with.

But, despite how thrown off he was, there was a certain comfort in the quiet nights you spent together, however inadvertently they came to be. After a life of isolation, he found a purpose in the steady rise and fall of your chest, in the snorting giggles of your laughter, and the way you flipped the edge of your pack to grant him sight, never mind that he was fully capable of viewing the world without it. It was for that reason that the rage in his battered soul waned a fraction, leaving a sliver of room for whatever this was, and the reason his mind refused to release thoughts of your whispered queries, always centered on him, whether it be his health, status as a deity, or happiness.

Farfetched as it was, the Fierce Deity, god of war and blood and death, waited hours for you to wake, unblinking because he would be damned to miss the very moment of your return to the land of the living, the languid stretch your body performed as you groaned softly, rubbing the creases of your eyes with the same gentleness you treated him to. He would study the outfits you wore, committing them all to memory so he could better understand the core of who he considered to be his savior. Maybe then, when he was free, he could begin to repay your kindness–bit by bit, word by word–until distance became more of a myth that him, and your tender warmth could be validated by more than just a paltry mask. Your very breath became his meaning, your soul his muse, and the Fierce Deity was sure he would never forget it.

But in the meantime, perhaps he would remember the words that fell from your mouth, just to prove you right once again.

I can't begin to express how beautiful this felt to write. The Fierce Deity truly is my muse.

ALSO there will be a part two, so keep your eyes peeled!

[wasyago]

yago what if tango and etho are somehow the last two standing, what do you think would happen are they gon be at each others throats or

statistically, there's only like.... a 0.04% chance of both of them making it to the end, considering how skilled and good at the game they both are... but if it were to happen...

god i don't know. this whole "tuff guys" situationship they got going on is honestly driving me a little crazy, because bdubs is over there like "etho, let's kill tango!", etho is in 10 different alliances simultaneously and let's be honest bdubs and tango aren't the strongest of the bunch, and tango is still for some reason trying to keep them together even if he knows it's gonna backfire. i am NOT normal about the whatever episode it was where tango was playing the leader, and his goals were to help each other survive and get kills? when originally they said that they shouldn't trust each other and that they should backstab each other if the opportunity presents itself??? and the other two are very clearly very ready to kill tango if they can????????? while tango is not doing anything about it and pretends that they're a functional team?????????????

so. if it was only tango and etho left. i feel like they're both very set on "doing what they're supposed to" in a way, so they'll both try to win and kill each other. i dont see them being all like "oh no we're allies we can't kill each other" because they were never really allies.

i think etho can be a bit ruthless at times, unintentionally or not. the moments from limited life come to mind, one where he kills skizz ("i just wish you were better at the game") and another where he kills joel ("you saved me, so now i can kill you"). so it's not new for him to kill people he was close with. and i dont think tango can be an exception... it takes a lot for etho to feel like he owes the victory to someone and that he should sacrifice himself for them. and tango sadly didn't earn his loyalty. (a point can be made that etho didn't want his loyalty to begin with, but im not gonna talk about it because im afraid ill have to fly to canada afterwards for unspecified reasons)

so. etho will most likely try to be the tough guy he always wanted to be, and he'll earnestly try to win and kill tango. "nice guys finish last" is a horrible way to phrase anything but i feel like at some point etho would say that.

tango however... tango has this thing where he kinda gives up at the end, because he doesn't deem himself skilled enough to win, so he just goofs around until he dies (did so in limited and secret lives, don't remember anything about others sadly). that's why it's so hard for him to be in the last two. i think he will be a little lost on what to do when it's only him and etho left, because there's no more room for messing around, this is serious suddenly, he either dies or he wins the series. that's a lot of pressure. but losing intentionally is not really an option, he has to at least try to win, to not be a total disappointment. and i mean, cmon now he can't lose to etho. etho did nothing to even make tango consider giving him the victory willingly, etho betrayed them.

maybe they'll make a little tuff circle to fight in <3

i doubt it though. there's not a whole lot of tension and drama between them to make them take their time to resolve it and give proper attention to their last fight. they'll probably just meet in a field somewhere and everything will happen too quickly and anticlimactically.

they both suck tho so idk who'd win :/

[heaven4lostgirls]

Poly!marauders meeting y/ns family? Its okay if you dont want to write this! I get it can be hard to write something you dont have inspo for!

beautiful boys

poly!marauders x reader

a/n: ty for the request i really enjoyed writing this!!

summary: marauders meeting your parents for the first time<3

tags: fluffff!!!

you, james, sirius and remus had been dating for a little over 3 months. you weren’t sure when the perfect time would come for you to introduce them to your parents but you knew that it had to happen at some point and apparently today was that day.

you all stood outside your parents home, as a halfblood, your parents were fairly well off however you knew that because they had to send you off to hogwarts so young that they had become a bit more protective.

now in your 6th year your parents were aware that you had found interest in people around you and never expressed any distain to who you should date. they were never against you dating someone that was a different blood purity than you or someone of the same gender.

as you all walked up to the gate of your parents house you felt sirius shift nervously next to remus who kept double checking if his clothes were okay. james seemed to be the only calm one out of the three but maybe that was because he’d already been introduced to your parents as one of your best friends.

you knocked on the door softly and softly squeezed sirius’ and remus’ hands in comfort. you’re mother opened the door to see four beaming faces, albeit two of them looked a bit more nervous than the others.

“y/n! come in! i’ve missed you honey!” you mother cooes at you as she pulls you into a hug and ushering you and your boyfriends inside.

“i missed you too mum, where’s dad?” you smile as you wrap your arm around remus’ waist.

“he’s in his study, he’ll be down in a minute. last minute ministry cases and whatnot” she smiles before she turns to the four of you.

“and? who might be these lovely gentlemen? when you said you were bringing people home i didnt expect this!”

“well actually mum, these are my boyfriends. james, sirius and remus. you’ve met james before at kings cross station remember?”

“oh yes! what a delight, it’s wonderful to see you sweetheart” your mother hugs them all and you can see the relief that flood from remus and sirius’ shoulders.

“you boys must be famished, come let’s do the kitchen and we can chat a bit before your father comes down”

you all make your way to the kitchen and sit around the island, your mother pours you all some water as she asks some questions.

they all answer very willingly with little hesitance and you can see the admiration they hold for your mother as she dotes on all of you as if they’re her own children.

the heavy footsteps of your father interrupts the conversation between sirius and your mum.

“y/n! i’ve missed you sweetheart” your father stated before wrapping you in a big hug, almost squeezing the life out of you before he lets go and looks curiously at the boys behind you.

he cocks an eyebrow which makes james gulp and remus fidget nervously before his face breaks out into a big smile.

“nice to meet you boys, i’ve heard that you’ve been helping my y/n around school” a chorus of ‘yes sirs’ is heard throughout the kitchen before you introduce them.

“dad, these are my boyfriends. you know james, and that’s sirius and the one next to him is remus” they all lift their hands up accordingly to wave at your old man.

“ah i see, well since we’ve already met why don’t we dig in to my wife’s delicious cooking” he laughs and pats sirius and remus on the back.

you usher them to the table where your dad and mom sit at the heads and you and james sit next to each other. across from you is remus and across from james is sirius.

you all eat happily and make small talk and you can almost feel the love and warmth in the air, your parents never once mentioned the scars on remus’ face or questioned why sirius lived with james and that he seemed to hesitate talking about his family.

all in all they all seemed so at peace with one another you couldn’t ask for anything more, your dad looks at you whilst everyone else talks and winks at you.

you know you’ve found a family in these boys and as have they in you.

[bbyquokka]

my soul mate is my cat

pairing: lee minho x gender-neutral reader

genre: angst with a comfort ending – MDNI

synopsis: you adopt a cat to help ease the pain realising he is similar to someone you once held close to you

warnings: animal adoption, mental health, loneliness, unable to care for oneself, soft ending, soul mates, reincarnation

words: 1.7k ~ (1,704)

♡ m.list — ♡ you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

“why don't you adopt a cat!” you look up at your best friend and laugh.

“a cat?” you scoff. “seriously?”

your best friend nods and grins before taking a sip of their spirit. you're both out on a best friend date, eating at a local café whilst catching up on life.

“why not? cats are easy to take care off!” 

“i can hardly look after myself let alone an animal.” you chuckle softly.

“oh c'mon yn! are you not lonely since.. well, y'know..” you swallow as your best friend trails off. you let out a sad sigh as you look down at your pastry, suddenly feeling nauseous and the pastry looking unappetizing.

you have noticed that the days are long but the nights are even longer. since being alone, your apartment has felt twice the size of what it usually is. you haven't become lazy per say but the appeal of washing dishes and doing laundry just drains you the more you think about it, causing a pile to build and build until it becomes unmanageable. everything just reminded you of him, of minho. you hated being in the same four walls for that exact reason but you feared that if you left, you’d forget so you willingly trapped yourself.

you'd worry you'd forget about his smell. how he sounded. how he dressed. you still have all his belongings, scared and refusing to throw them out or give them away. every item of clothing still holds his scent, that scent that brings you so much comfort yet such sadness. everything of his still sits on your dressing table. photos, trinkets, dried up flowers, expired amusement park tickets–they're all memories.

nothing has quite been or felt the same. you went from being incredibly loved and being in love by an amazing and wonderful human to feeling nothing. just an empty shell walking and breathing. the only reason you are out right now is because your friend practically barged into your home unwelcomed, forced you to get dressed and dragged you out.

you can't deny that it feels nice to be outside again. the wind on your skin, the chirps of the birds and the buzz of pedestrians however, that part of you just wants to go home and bury yourself under heaps of blankets.

“c'mon yn. i think it'd be good for you. if not, at least think about it.” 

and think about it you do. as you wander around your apartment, all you can think about is a cat wandering around your home. maybe having a fluffy companion would do you some good. maybe it would bring you back and light that spark that's been extinguished.

the more the think about it, the more you want it. a sudden burst of energy rips through your body as you clean up your home. putting laundry in the machine, cleaning up dishes and throwing away trash. you bleach and disinfect every surface in your home, scrubbing until you can see your reflection in the counter tops. 

once that was done, you venture off to the pet store to grab the necessities. cat tree, scratching post, food and water bowls, litter box and litter alongside some food, treats and toys. maybe you overspent and the cat wouldn't use half of what you bought but it's better to be safe than sorry.

you made sure you home is cat friendly, feeling like you're baby proofing the apartment. you tuck away any loose cables, hide anything that could be potentially swallowed and cause harm. you haven't even decided if you want a cat or a kitten but either way, you will know once you come face to face with the animals.

“hi. i'm looking to adopt a cat.” you say to the shelter worker. you walked to your local shelter knowing it's better to adopt than to shop. they smile at you before asking you some questions and filling out some paperwork before leading you to the kennels.

there, you see a whole array of animals. puppies, kittens, dogs, cats. some old, some new. some frightened and some jumping all over the place with excitement. your heart melts but at the same time drops. seeing all these animals in kennels that have been abandoned and are waiting for their forever home, makes you wish you could just scoop them all up and take them home.

but for now, you can only pick one.

as you walk along the kennels, cooing and sighing at the adorable faces of the many breeds of dogs and cats, do you stop at one in particular.

you squat down as the cat stands from its resting place, uncurling itself and stretching out its stale limbs. it's a black, long coat cat with white around it's paws making it look like it's wearing socks. a little white moustache and white chest with long whiskers and pointy ears with tuffs of fur at the tips.

“hi.” you whisper as you put your hand up close to the metal. the cat sniffs your fingers, its pink nose twitching with each sniff before headbutting and rubbing its head on the bars. you stroke the back of its neck gently, heart melting as it starts to purr loudly.

“i want this one.” 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

it's been a few weeks since you adopted the cat, who's name is lee. lee was wary at first, hiding in the bathroom and nervous of its new surroundings and new noises. you spent time sitting outside the bathroom door trying to gently coax him out of the bathroom and let him know that he is safe.

soon enough, he gingerly stepped out off the bathroom, rubbing his head and body on your legs and hands as he would beg for attention. once lee knew he was safe did he show you his true side.

you learnt that he is a very playful yet stubborn cat. you'd catch him on the counter top (or even on top of the fridge) every time you tell him down, he would look at you and groom himself. you can't do anything about it though; he's a cute cat!

as you both slowly get accustomed to one another do you start to notice traits; traits that are all to familiar to you.

the slow blinks, the stubbornness, the playfulness. how he would meow at you when asking specific questions. the head tilts and the sudden swat of his paw on your hand; it's hard to explain to others but to you, you just know

it's a feeling you're all too familiar with. it's habits and traits you know far too well. you didn't want to believe it at first but now you're forced to. you even went as far as showing him a picture to which he nudged at and purred–like he is trying to tell you something.

you watch as he slowly sits up and stretches from your lap. your eyes widen at a distance mark on his fur in the same place as someone who was once close to you. lee looks at you and gives you slow blinks and purrs loudly as your eyes slowly full with tears.

“you're just like him, yknow.” you whisper. lee continues to give you soft blinks before gently placing his white paw on your cheek, his toes beans feeling soft yet firm against your skin. his fur soaking up your tears before he leans in and gently licks your cheek. his scratchy tongue swiping along your cheek as he gives you kisses to which you giggle at and hold him close to your chest.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“i'm not crazy.” you protest to your friend over the phone. “i swear, they're just like him!” 

“yn.. i know you miss him but that's impossible.”

“is it? i mean, don't you believe in the whole afterlife thing? y'know, being reborn and whatnot.”

“not particularly, no. it's just bizarre how you think that. are you ok, yn? like, really really ok?” you sigh deeply, rubbing your face with your hand.

“peachy. look, i know i sound crazy but it's true. it's just everything lee does is so alike to him. since adopting him, i feel more alive! like i have a purpose.”

“and that's great yn! but to say he is exactly like him is a little bizarre don't you think?” 

“well, yeah but– ah, never mind. look, i have to go. talk to you soon.” you hang up with a defeated sigh. of course they wouldn't believe you. you wouldn't if someone told you what you told your friend. they would have to see it to believe it; but even then, would they?

you drag your feet to your bedroom, smiling as you see lee curled up on his side of the bed. you flop down on your stomach, disturbing lee from his nap. his head shoots up, a tired and disapproved meow causing you to laugh softly.

“sorry darling. i didn't mean to wake you.” lee puts his head back down before letting out a big yawn. his ears twitching and soft purrs emitting as you gently pat his soft and silky fur.

“maybe i am a little crazy.” you say with a soft chuckle. “could you not give me a sign or something? i'll take anything at this point.” 

lee looks at you before getting up off the bed and walking out. you watch with a sad smile feeling defeated and your heart weighing you down.

moments later, lee walks back into the bedroom. he jumps up on the bed and drops a piece of clothing by your face. it's a sock but not just any sock–it's his favourite sock.

you sit up, holding the sock close to your chest as tears stream down your cheeks. you let out broken sobs as lee stands on his hind legs, front paws on your arms as he reaches up. you laugh softly, leaning down to allow him to lick your cheek slowly and gently to soothe you.

you scoop him up and nuzzle into his soft furr, getting it wet with your tears. lee endures it, purring softly and rubbing his face against your cheek.

“it's really you.” you whisper. “welcome back, my love.” 

note: idek. i saw a tiktok ok and it prompted me to do this. i have no words, sdjn;aslfb! don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. curious as to what is next? here is my wips list! i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

tags (open): @sstarryoong ; @fairylouist ; @septicrebel ; @alyszaen ; @writerracha ; @hyunluvxo ; @aestheticsluut ; @xcookiemonsteer ; @telesvng

[simp4konig]

"Can't sleep?" König x Gender-neutral Reader

Word count: 3704

Having flashbacks about the battlefield and unable to fall asleep after an exceptionally draining mission, you go seek the comfort of your Colonel in the middle of the night.

*Slow burn

*ANGST!!💔... dw it gets wholesome at the end i promise ❤️

*Thanj you to Azzy!! (My No.1 Fan...🥹🫂💘) for this request !!!🙋🏼‍♀️💫💞💞✨Love u too🫶💕,, I kind of 🥺slightly🥺 maube a littke bit🥺🥺🥺went off prompt and König isnt affected by the mission per se BUT i have fulfilled the CUDDLING part!!! ☺️☺️pls dont show up to my fhome with pitchforks and torches im sry it just sorta happened ok😱

Also i rhink i have dementia bc I thought someone else rqsted König comfortinf rreader in a storm???😰😰Turns out nobody did so maybe i hallucinated it or smtj idk🤷🏼‍♀️Anyways I thought to merge these two ideas together so lmk what u think abt this lil (by "lil" i mean WAY too long🤪) drabble🙏💕

*Reader is pining for König

*Events loosely take place in the KönigxKing (as in, reader's call-sign is "King" storyline) mini-series. This serves as a slight backstory for King (reader). Again, this is by no means in any chronological order in relation to the series, so this can also be read as stand-alone! :)

*THANK YOU FOR 100+ FOLLOWERS!!!!!! 🥳🎉🎊✨🎇💖I SWEAR ONE IT LITERALLT FEELS LIKE MID-AUGUST WHEN I HAD LIKE 7 WHERE DID U ALL COME FEOM??????😰😰💘 IT MEANS SO MUCH FOR ME LIKE I CANR STRESS THIS ENOIGH BC IM SO HAPPG U GUYS THINK MEWORTHY ENOIGH OF YOUR PRECIOUS FOLLOW AND WANT TO READ MY WACK WORKS!!!!!!🤧🤧💖💖 LIKE??????? 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹THANK U THABK YOU RHABK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🫶🥰🥰💖💖💖❤️💞💞💕💖💕💕💞

                                        ...

You couldn't sleep.

It was raining relentlessly outside, the pitter-patter of water droplets hitting your window. Storm clouds boomed loudly outside, and despite the blinds being pulled tightly shut, lightning occasionally flashed through the cracks, elongated shadows of buildings forming on the walls.

Counting down the seconds until you'd hear the rumbling thunder, it would only be a few kilometres away, and you'd shudder at the sound, shivering.

While tossing and turning in bed, you had kicked off your covers and were staring at the ceiling, still wide awake. Normally, a storm like this would be like a lullaby to your ears, yet now it did nothing in helping lull you to sleep.

Even if you wanted to sleep, how could you when those corpses haunted your nightmares?

Laying in bed, your mind replayed the same scenes like a movie reel, the same screams like a broken record:

Lifeless, unblinking eyes with mouths agape and an expression of fear permanently engraved on their pale faces; flies swarming in hordes to harvest the soft tissues of the irises and tongue, eating the human mush; limbs contorted in unnatural positions, arms and legs crushed by the force of detonated mines, bones broken under the weight.

Rumbling roaring of machine guns and the deafening explosions from hand grenades meant that the high-pitched ringing would drown out everybody's yelling, muffle all noise from your surroundings, and you'd only be pulled out of your daze when you'd find yourself stumbling on unstable ground, on bricks and cheap concrete that had all crumbled.

Bodies would drop so fast it'd take at least seconds for you to register whether it had been an enemy or an ally.

You'd pull the trigger, but seeing a bullet go through someone's forehead and the exaggerated shock stamped on their face — a permanent expression in their final seconds remaining forever in death — left you wondering why you would ever sign up willingly to do this.

Disorientated, you'd struggle to pull yourself together, would enter far too many close calls for a soldier to count, and would only get a grip once you saw a familiar face, a reminder that you weren't alone in the warzone.

Even now, the sonorous sound kept echoing in your head, and, if you listened closely, it resembled hundreds of hoarse shouts, so many people screaming at once in collective agony.

You flinched as a bolt of lightning suddenly struck the sky.

Sparing an absentminded glance at your digital alarm clock, your eyes widened slightly at the time: 1:56am.

Damn... you thought. ...it's that late already?

Drills would begin at 7 o'clock, and you had to have woken up at 6 to brush your teeth, get dressed, eat, and mentally prepare yourself for the day, so you kissed a good night's sleep goodbye, and accepted the telling off from your superiors the following morning for under-performing.

...Still, how could you sleep after what you had experienced? What you experienced and would continue experiencing?

Accepting high-pressure missions and a demanding workload once you had enlisted, you thought that your ability to keep calm under pressure and stay composed would mean that you would have been unaffected by the shooting by now, and be taking everything in your stride. Calm, composed, and unaffected, is what you had thought you'd be. Surely you'd be able capable enough to cope with it all?

Yet, you weren't any of those things. Never getting used to the stress that would persist even while on supposedly "low-intensity" extractions. You'd always be on edge, always recoiling at hands that would reach over to tap your back as encouragement or hold your shoulder in reassurance on base.

You believed you could never familiarise yourself with the panic and unpredictability of missions and being hyper-aware of something, anything, everything going wrong, with the adrenaline that would course through your body and take over your senses in times of fight or flight, with the nerves that would keep you on edge hours after landing safely on base.

But, most of all, with the nights you'd lay in bed, unable to fall asleep: nights like these, when every time you closed your eyes, you saw the eyes of dying comrades; when every time you walked along the corridors, imagined yourself diving across the floor and felt shattered shrapnel breaking under your feet; when every time you sat in an empty room, heard ear-piercing blasts and the ricochet of discarded shells just missing your head.

Whereas the other operators seemed to be completed unmoved by any of their deployments and would shrug their shoulders off of the events, the anxiety for you lingered, trauma deep within your soul consuming you whole.

How could you ever get over the fact that you were shooting real people? Losing real soldiers?

...Losing yourself along the way?

All this work took a toll on your psyche, but comparing yourself to the other soldiers made you feel like such a coward, and second-guess ever enlisting in the first place.

...Well, you did so because it had been your only option all things considered, but looking back on it, you thought that maybe it would have been better if you hadn't chosen anything at all.

Accepted the grave nature of your failures in life, the same life that would have had inevitably ended with you pre-maturely in a grave.

After all, you had no job prospects to look forward to, no dreams to strive for, no aspirations to achieve.

Failing your school exams time and time again until you had finally achieved a result that was good enough didn't earn you any security, as you weren't exactly employable with grades you had just barely managed to claw to even pass.

Really, it was hopeless. You were hopeless.

To say your family was disappointed in you would have been an understatement. Out of three children, you were labelled the disappointment child, the underachiever and failure.

Your two siblings worked as a lawyer and an engineer respectively, while you had never even been able to grasp the basics in education, never spoke with your teachers of anything other than the worrying results of your exams, never came home to share a thing with your parents you had accomplished with a smile of pride stretched on your young face like your siblings did.

Never. Because you weren't ever good enough.

At the dinner table, your siblings boasted of promotions and of revolutionary research, of trials and of successes, of their brilliant breakthroughs, as you sat on the side of the table, listening from the sidelines, excluded from all of the grandeur that you couldn't relate to.

Still, it was always better to keep your mouth shut than to make a dent in the conversation, further embarass yourself and prove how lowly you were, than to have so many pairs of pitying eyes talking down on you in patronising tones, of the subtle condolences from your parents and their regret with triumphant smirks and condescending attitude from your siblings.

In a last ditch effort to make your parents proud, you made the decision of joining the military. You were young and impressionable, under the impression that your parents would finally be impressed.

...Of course, they weren't. In fact, your decision made them even more disappointed, shaking their heads sympathetically with strained smiles stretched on their lips.

Maybe that was the reason you couldn't handle the pressure of the military, you thought. You were weak, incompetent. Pathetic.

Although no one told you explicitly or made you feel that way directly, somehow, you always had felt inferior. Somehow, you felt that no matter what you did, how much you did, how well you thought you did, you wouldn't ever come close to the others's level.

That, despite your effort and dedication, you would never be good enough. Would always be inferior no matter what, because you always had been and would always be so.

...Your Colonel never made you feel that way, though, and you never quite understood why.

After all, your interactions were few-far-and-inbetween. It made you wonder what made you feel this way, and what spark ignited the warmth you'd feel when he was around.

Although a man of few words, the words that he did say to you would matter, though. His praise, his acknowledgement, his always being there made you want to keep going and prove your worth to him.

It started off as sporadic encouragement:

Your skin glistening with sweat, an accented voice would say "Gute Arbeit," over your crumpled body on the gym mat.

Offering you a gloved hand, you grasped it gratefully, and he pulled your tired body with ease. "Good job, King."

A lopsided smile from you as you'd wipe the sweat from your forehead and brows after sparring with someone else, limp limbs barely keeping you standing. His eyes were betrayed no emotion under his veil, yet a thin-lipped grin was behind it.

"Thank— you— sir!" You'd manage to breathe out, still panting for breath. "I did— my best, but— I didn't win."

"That does not matter," he'd say, speaking in a tone you couldn't quite recognize. "Very good job. Keep it going. Soon, you'll be able to pin even me down."

You'd laugh weakly at his words, yet would immediately feel a surge of motivation to keep working hard, and would train up to the point of exhaustion behind closed doors. Thinking you'd be alone, you'd punch a dufflebag with grunts of effort, missing the tall silhouette observing you with crossed arms in the corner, satisfied.

Then, those became casual greetings;

"Guten Morgen, soldier. Nice day, ja?"

Turning around, you'd see your Colonel walking towards you, frame visible even from a distance.

You smile broadly, eyes crinkling up in genuine joy, before you caught yourself and coughed. "Y-yeah!"

"Always a nice day whenever you're around, sir," you'd tease, playfully winking at him as he approached you, yet you were yet to master it without blinking both eyes.

He'd chuckle heartily, flattered, then shook his head to hide how his face flushed under his veil, and held up a hand.

"Thank Gott I have you here. My day would have been ruined."

"Have a good day, sir!" You'd call after him brightly, and he'd turn around for a final time with a two-fingered salute. Strange, since he was your superior, not the other way around, but you shrugged this off as a friendly gesture.

Until it developed into a sort of mutual connection.

In your eyes, at least.

You didn't want to assume that you two were friends, as the man was way out of your league. Strong, muscular, and a disciplined soldier — a Colonel, no less — a man of influence.

Besides, he, conversing with the only-recently-recruit-turned-soldier that was the slowest to understand a joke, did not comprehend complicated terms, and was the least bright out of the entire faction was not something you wanted him to be associated as, didn't want to tarnish his reputation.

You reasoned that you didn't want to bring down the Colonel down to your low level, so you kept your relationship as just that; associates. Aquaintances. Nothing more, out of respect for your Colonel.

Little did you know, the Colonel had developed a soft spot for you.

It seemed as though the storm had gotten worse, as the rain was unrelenting, and the tapping on the glass increased with force. Booming thunderclouds made your room shake.

A sigh as you turned to your side again. 2:07am.

Your thoughts moved back to your Colonel, and you started missing him, longing for him. The warmth that radiated off him made you wish he'd take you in his arms, hold you close to his chest, and you suddenly felt so cold. So lonely and cold.

Maybe it was childish of you to be feeling this way — he was your superior, after all, and you had no reason to be so attached — yet your daily encounters made you gain feelings for the man. Made you feel things when he was around.

Somehow, he brought you security. Made you feel protected. Safe. Like you could always count on him for having your back.

Made you forget that you were so useless, and was the reason for the fuzzyness within your chest, the buzzing feeling you'd feel as you'd be grinning from ear to ear after speaking to him.

Made you feel like you weren't pathetic. Weren't a wasted wishing star. Instead, you were appreciated, seen, even.

You wanted to see him. You wanted to be with him.

...Would he want you, though?

No. Of course he wouldn't. You weren't good enough.

A deep sigh. 2:15, the digital alarm clock displayed.

...What if he actually did want you? Not even as a partner, but just to be around him? Breathe the same air as him? You thought you weren't worthy of his time, but maybe, just maybe he wouldn't see it as such a waste.

Another crash of lightning brought you to your senses.

Finally making up your mind, you huffed in exertion as you pushed yourself off your stiff mattress, not bothering to organize the mess of blankets on the floor.

Walking with certainty, before you realised it, you were at König's bedroom door. Standing behind the door, hand hesitatingly reaching for the handle, you bit your lip, confidence wavering.

Should you really go through with this right now? What if he was asleep at that moment and all you'd do is disrupt his slumber? It wouldn't be fair of you to disturb him so late in the night, especially when he had so many responsibilities.

Still, you inhaled deeply, and, as quietly as you could, knocked twice.

You almost jumped out of your skin at the familiar accented voice of your Colonel.

"Come in," he said hoarsely. His tone was almost warm, inviting, yet you shook your head at the idea, and pulled the handle.

Entering inside, you slowly closed the door behind you. When you turned around, König was sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, seemingly deep in thought. Wearing a tank top and cargo pants, his head was hung low, his veil hanging loosely over his head.

The blinds were drawn open to reveal the sky dominated by darkness, the grey curtain of monochrome on the nearest buildings cast down by the clouds, the raindrops that remained on the windows and the rhythmic echoes against the pavement as they dropped in syncopation.

The sight, his presence, were both so... relaxing. In a way, your anxiety was relieved by the tranquility of the scene, and it made you forget the internal turnoil you had been going through for the past few hours, made the tension in your body fade.

"Ah, King," his arms dropped to his sides and he raised his head to meet your eyes in the dark. "I had a feeling that it would be you."

You fidgeted nervously, not knowing what to do.

"Bitte, schön," he said, patting the empty space beside him on the mattress. "Please, sit down. I insist."

Slowly lowering yourself to his side, you sat at a reasonable distance away from him. With the both of you sat down, the size difference was still very noticable. His height made him hunch over you, and one of his thighs was like the two of yours combined.

So nervous, you didn't even notice how his back slumped so you'd be both at a similar level.

He cleared his throat. "What brings you here so late in the night?"

An awkward tug of your t-shirt collar.

"Can't sleep," you stated simply.

"I see." He was quiet for a few moments. Then: "And you decided that my room was the place to go?"

Your face heated up, and you averted your gaze. "Well, sir, it's j-ju—"

"—Nein," he cut you off, holding up a hand to stop you. "I have told you so many times not to call me that. Call me König."

"But— but you're my superior," you gasped, mouth agape. "You deserve to be addressed with respect! I couldn't possibly—"

The protest died on your lips again as the man shook his head, the loose material of his veil following his movements. "Nein. None of that matters. I want you to call me by my first name."

A heavy silence lingered over the two of you, words left unsaid by you both.

"So," König prompted, "what brings you here, King?"

Pausing to think over a pretence, the best you could come up with was: "The storm scared me."

"Ja?" Even with the fabric covering his face, you could almost see the skeptical smirk on his lips.

"A soldier like you afraid of loud clouds? Some rain?" He chuckled.

"Really, I'd have thought you better than that, King." If you didn't know him well enough, you'd have thought he was mocking you, yet despite the sarcasm his eyes held a genuine concern for you.

An bashful laugh escaped you as you rubbed your arm, nails slightly digging into your skin.

"Okay, tell me the truth, King," Leaning forward, his tone became serious. "I know for certain you aren't scared."

He searched for your eyes, yet you avoided his gaze.

"Something is troubling you. Is that it?" He cocked his head to the side, fabric falling loosely over his shoulder. "You can tell me, King. I am your superior, you know. You should tell me these things."

"Well... it's j-just—"

You bit your lip, willing the tears to stay in your eyes.

Don't cry. Don't you dare cry.

König watched you, patiently waiting for you to continue.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, vulnerability showing in your eyes. "—This recent mission, it was— it was really, really difficult. And I just..."

König shuffled towards you until your knees were almost touching, watching you intently. As your body trembled, a hand hovered in uncertainty by your shoulder.

Sniffling, you wiped the wetness on your face with your arm, voice breaking.

"I-I just think that I'm not strong. That I'm... weak. Not— not good enough to be working with people that are so much better. So much stronger—"

Your breath hitched in your throat, voice coming out in a broken sob. "—I-I mean— I'm so pathetic. I shouldn't be so... weak. I should — I should be better. Wh-why—"

Tears flowed freely down your face. "—Why can't I be better, König? Why am I so— so useless?"

Without saying anything, König wrapped his strong arms around your body and pulled you against his chest, pulled you close so you could let it all out. For a few moments, he let you cry, ever-so-gently stroking the back of your head, fingers running through your hair. Weeping into his chest, his steady breathing soothed you.

Once you recovered enough from your emotions, you pulled away, downcast. Face red and blotchy with tears, eyes puffy and pink from crying, lips quivering and voice hoarse, you felt so pathetic. So, so pathetic.

"F-fuck, s-si— König—" Trembling. "I'm so so sorry. I'm too emotional, please, I'm sor—"

"Nein." His tone was soft, yet firm. Definitive. "You have nothing to apologise for, King."

Both hands cupped the sides of your face, tentatively tilting your face upwards. His expression was forlorn, and you felt tears brimming in your eyelids again.

"...You're not weak. You're not pathetic. You're not useless. I see you always trying so hard, King, always giving it your all..."

He paused for a few moments, deliberating over how best to put his thoughts into words. "...Maybe... maybe your best isn't the best out of anyone's bests, but it's the effort that counts." He rubbed the back of his neck, then let out a mono-syllabic laugh. "Scheiße, did that make sense? Sorry— I'm not good with words—"

You glanced away. "—Hey," his hand reached to hold to side of your face. "Look at me, King."

"You're not weak, not pathetic, not useless," he repeated, voice wavering.

"You're none of those. You're better than you think you are. Your inner strength," a finger pointed at your chest, "your heart, it's so full of goodness. So full of so many good things that don't define you, but instead changed you for the better."

"Maybe... maybe you aren't the aren't the best, haven't been the best, or never will be the best, but it's not your fault. You try so hard, and the odds... the odds are stacked against you. And, sometimes... sometimes it's okay to not be the best. You don't have to be fearless, the strongest, perfect. You can just be... you."

His eyes were pleading in the dark. "Please don't doubt yourself. You're so— so much better than you imagine."

A shaky breath. "So much stronger than you tell yourself. I can promise you, you are your own person. Other people's successes don't define you."

König turned around to glance at his alarm. 2:36.

When he turned back, your face had slowly regained the colour on your cheeks, eyes sparkled, chest rose and fall at a steady pace. You said nothing, yet König knew you listened to every one of his words.

"Looks like it's too late for you to fall asleep in your own room," he whispered, gently caressing your face. "Stay here with me, King."

Eyes immediately widening in surprise, you were about to protest. "B-but— I couldn't possibly, König—"

That protest died on your lips as König's arms engulfed you again, and brought you down against his mattress so you were laying on his chest. Cocooned like a protective blanket over you, you didn't need him to say anything more. You felt so... safe. Loved.

The storm outside seemed to calm down, and lightning no longer crashed against the window. Rain faltered, and some clouds were separating in the darkness of the sky.

Before you knew it, your eyelids became heavy with drowsiness, feeling a wave of calm wash over you, cleansing away your sorrows.

Just before you fell asleep, you heard König say something in German, barely above a whisper, but you did not understand:

"Schlaf gut Schatz. Ich liebe dich."

...

I don't know who needed to hear that, or if anyone even did, but I stand by the words I wrote. Although you are reading this, and are likely a stranger, and I'll never face you in real life, I want you to know that you *are* good enough. And if it takes a person on the internet using a fictional character to tell you so, then so be it. You are still valid. 🫂

...

Note: i rhink some of the ppl that read my previous fics will be able to tell that i went tryhard mode on this one 💀💀

Its mostly bc im back in school and were going over all the stupid fancy shmancy literative devices and figurstive language (god why cant u call it literallt anything else i swear why does it have ro be so unnecessarily overcomplicated just call it sentence structures or writing techniques istg.man😭)so i unconsciously chanelled all of thise boring technicalities into this 😬

With me writing as a hobby you'd think I'd have the highest grades in English? No💔I wish LMAO

I NOW HAVE 130+ FOLLOWERS!!! Which is unbelievable if u wsk me bc etf why wre eo mwnt people following me i don't deserve this qt ALL 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 THANK YOU ALL 🥹🥹🥹🫶🫶🫶💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

I still remember when @puff0o0⭐ began their self-aware au with König and Ghost qnd ive qlways veen cheerint for her from the sidelines ☺️☺️come to find out shes been mentioning ME in THEIR podts and writing on their blofs thwt my CoD blog is good and i.????😭😭😭cant????????😭😭😭😭😭 Literally -99999 damage and an ARROW 🏹 STRAIGHT thru the HEART 💘🥹 I LOVE U B (platonically ofc dw)😽💕💓💓❤️💞💞💕💞💕💞💞💞💕

[meeks-just-wants-to-scroll]

I KINDA HAD THE SAME IDEA with the low honor high honor thing! Im currently figuring exactly in what way the story would change [granted it does involve one of my ocs so maybe a lot more than it should] but its fun to think in what way Micah would be 'better' or more loyal to the gang

I feel like he'd still pick fights in camp, but like in a way older siblings would. Its more teasing/bullying and shit instead of straight up slurs. Idk, might just be me NNXJXJC

I also think he wouldn't go out of his way to help someone if they asked him to, but he'd watch them continue to struggle with mayne like a gun to the point where he like has to get up and be like 'OKAY you are so pathetically shit at this - im going to show you how to do this and we're not taking a break until you shoot 3 targets in a row' or something

I dont think he'd willingly be vulnerable anytime soon based on his upbringing and shit, but iiii like to think it happens sometimes accidentally idk JXJXJC

Weep weep weep this is making me wanna explore what RDR2 would be like if Micah was a marginally better person (mainly what id he never ratted).

i am glad we have converging ideas when it comes to high honor micah! I’ve talked with mutuals before on wtf micah could do that could be considered high honor, and we came up with little. One idea i suggested is that he accidentally saved people)s lives through his own selfishness (ex: saves someone from rabid dog because “if i didnt kill it, it would have gone for me next.”)

Micah's high honor is selfish in a unique way compared to low honor. Instead of focusing on himself and his survival, it more becomes a common goal to keep the gang as a whole surviving. He is no hunter, but he can bring in money and be a daaaaaamn good shot. Guard duties are often reserved for Lenny and Sean and Charles and whoever else is free. Micah *can* go on guard duty but keeps himself out of that tiresome job by being out of camp and bringing in money. “Sorry, can’t got on guard duty, I just got back from a stage coach robbery and I want to enjoy my well deserved relaxation.”

he is still a snarky sounding piece of shit, but like you said, he is less of a full on hateful man. He is still a sly, observing snake and studies the flaws of his gang mates, but he keeps his fangs sheethed. The idea with the snake animal for high honor is that Micah is still as lethal and capable of assholery as he is in bad honor, he is just deciding to not. He holds his venom to be inflicted on those who the gang need (or want) dead. He also leans into the snake vibes by being a slimy slithering manipulator. He isn’t a charmer, but he has a skill for talking people long enough to get plans into action (or to just backstab the enemy).

i feel like Morgan would still dislike Micah for being a man with bad vibes. Morgan is also just a hater sometimes (look at how he perceives Kieran). Micah still murders and has bad plans like Blackwater so it’s not like Arthur has *no* reason to distrust Micah.

i imagine high honor micah makes an effort on occasion to be involved in camp socializing, Sean and Jack’s return for example. He mainly drinks and flirts with the girls and boys at the event.

and because i like the red vs blue honor color association of the game, Micah’s design would be a little different, making the blue in his design a little more present. A neckerchief is an example of blue, but i am sure more blue could be worked into his design somewhere. Idea is that the ratio of red to blue in character’s designs can allude to how honorable they are (though it is not a 1:1 visualization). I imagine Micah would be 1:3 blue to red. Maayyybe. One quarter an okay man, three quarters a pretty sleazy man.

micah is still deeply troubled soooo no sweetie pie vulnerability for him! At most he tries to flirt (like asking Mary-Beth to dance) and the people are 1-2% more polite about turning him down when he’s high honor. He’s still all alone and his prickly exterior deeps people at arms length from him. He is both deeply dependent on attaching himself to a gang/someone to follow (my hc), but he also aspires to be independent and run his own gang. I suppose in high honor, he hopes to earnestly stick with the VDL gang and rise in the ranks by impressing Dutch (because Dutch is kind of an easy man to impress when you bootlick).

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Did they ever tackle how the other dorm leaders reacted to the whole anemone issue during the Octavinelle arc? Like i know Riddle wasn't happy when he found out that ADeuce got into a contract with Azul and have to serve him since they failed to complete their deal but I dont think we got Leona's reaction to what happened to his dormmates since Im pretty sure I saw Savanaclaw npcs among the anemones. Like were they unaware or did they decide "let them face the consequences"?

Nope, we pretty much only have Riddle and Leona’s perspectives on the anemone incident of book 3. I’m pretty sure the other dorm leaders were not ignorant about what had happened; Azul had 225 students out of a school of 800ish under his thumb, which would significantly impact the school’s ecosystem and would be hard to ignore. Besides, what dorm leader would ignore anemones suddenly sprouting on their students’ heads and NOT get to the bottom of things?

It’s not too hard to imagine that the other dorm leaders were none too pleased to find out the news but also didn’t intervene for whatever reason (be it “they deserve to face these consequences”, knowing that they can’t do anything about it, etc.). In all likelihood, it was probably done out of convenience for the writers and/or to keep the story centered on the initial characters. At this point in the main story, we haven’t met characters relevant to other dorms (like Epel in Pomefiore), so we’d really feel little attachment seeing generic mob students suffering as Vil chides them or whatever. We can still get emotionally invested because our personal friends, Adeuce and Grim, are in dire straits.

Of course, Riddle was NOT happy with the circumstances (how dumb do you have to be to make a contract with Azul?). According to Deuce in 3-7, he was scolded and made to write a paper to reflect.

Leona’s opinion, meanwhile, is moreso implied. In 3-16, he says that anyone that would willingly and repeatedly make contracts with Azul are stupid. Leona has also made deals with Azul, but it always came at a steep cost to himself so he tries to do so sparingly. However, Leona also continuously characterizes those who get suckered as “dumb” and “dim-witted”, implying he does not think highly of those who fall for Azul’s schemes. This leads me to think that Leona’s feelings err on “you made your bed, now go lie in it”.

But!! I think it’s possible that Leona’s motivation to dust Azul’s contracts threefold: eliminate his own contract with Azul, help Yuu and co. out (because they’re annoying him, lol), AND to free his (idiot) dorm members from Azul’s clutches. We’ve seen Leona act very similarly “selfless” (while operating to achieve his own goals) in book 2, so it wouldn’t surprise me if he continued this plotting in other books.

One thing I noticed while reviewing book 3; there are only anemone’d students from FOUR of the dorms: Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Scarabia, and Pomefiore. Octavinelle, Ignihyde, and Diasomnia students were not reaped.

Now, it’s possible that this occurred due to limited game assets, as a similar issue occurred with the game showing beastmen mobs only in Savanclaw and in no other dorm. However, the manga debunked this quickly by showing beastmen in Heartslabyul and humans in Savanavlaw. I therefore decided to consult the manga to see if I could find Octavinelle, Ignihyde, or Diasomnia mobs among Azul’s anemones.

The Episode of Octavinelle manga depicts many mob students also indebted to Azul. It wasn’t that helpful since the pages are in black and white, making it difficult to know which dorms they belong to. However, we do see that Ignihyde students were anemone'd:

Do you think Azul didn’t bother with his own dorm members to maintain the image of being a trustworthy and kind dorm leader/senpai? Maybe the Diasomnia kids were too strong-willed to fall for his schemes? Or perhaps they really are among the count of anemones, but just not shown clearly in the game/manga. (I can’t see Azul passing up the opportunity to get more clients indebted to him, regardless of dorm affiliation, since getting enough students of one dorm under him could grant him leverage with the dorm leader to get them back www)

[historicalvandal]

That was so perfect???? Love love love it! Your writing is so immersing, and the way you write kobas personality is nearly identical to the movies. You got me bitting at the bars of my sanity, lol.

But could you imagine if the human accidentally starts courting koba first without realizing it. Bringing him pelts they hunted for him because he doesn't socialize or sleep with the other apes and the human is worried he'd get cold, or they willingly leave the others during communal eating and bringing more food because koba isn't there and the human wanted to eat with him/ don't want him to be alone.

Ceaser stops the human to ask what they are doing and they go , "oh its for koba 🤗" and he dies & laugh inside knowing what it looks like to an ape what the human is doing, but gives the ape version of a blessing anyways. Because dammit it if this is what it takes to get koba to chill tf out against humanity then fine... the human thinks Ceaser is just wishing them luck because its koba lol

Like you said, he gets injured or gets so sick that the human abandons their own nest to sleep on the ground beside his to make sure hes ok and breathing. I got so much koba brainrot. Please forgive my word splurge. you're the first person to just understand, lol. And please dont burn yourself out and remember to take care of yourself first, im just rambling from excitement.

-💚 anon

AHHH anon you are actually so very sweet! i was hoping you'd enjoy my writing, always wanted to start writing stuff on Tumblr haha- I actually love the idea presented that Reader just doesn't know their courting Koba, and he won't say anything lmaooo- Caesar would totally notice and would give bombastic side eye but he'd actually be fine with it, banking on the fact this could help Koba slowly heal from his mental wounds and physical wounds he has from humanity! Reader brings him pelts from hunting trips, when he doesn't eat with the community and after asking Caesar all about it he tells them that Koba has just never really sat with the other apes to eat, so Reader just starts bringing food to Koba, I feel like the first time they do that Koba throws the food at them to get them to go away, to leave him alone, but they just keep coming back to give him food and he just gets used to it over time, when it comes out between them, when Koba actually finally asks why Reader sits with him to eat all the time instead of with Caesar and the rest of the community, Reader just tells him "I don't like that you are alone all the time...I think you just need a friend" and Koba is like taken aback by that revelation, that Reader wants to be his friend, how upset they may have been in the moment as well would change something ever so slightly between them, and he allows them to take their meals with him all the time and perhaps one time they sit with the community to eat, but they're still next to each other, still chatting between themselves, even sharing a joke or two, much to the shock of the other apes lmaooo- And reader just starts to stay more and more with Koba each night, the first time they stayed in Koba's nest with him is because he's always seen them staying on the ground and maybe it's a cold night, and he just wraps his arms around Reader, easily picking them up and letting them sleep in his nest with him, like Reader wakes up in the morning to Koba slowly playing with their hair, MY HEARTTTTT- I just love the idea of Koba playing with Readers hair omlllll And thank you sm, I promise I won't burn myself out, I'm just having so much fun with this rn! <333

[pinazee]

There might be blood

I had to look up the title because i didnt understand the connection to the episodes subject matter. So for anyone curious, its based on the 2007 movie There Will be Blood which is about the california oil boom.

Another episode thats just okay to me imo. But it has some good moments

First, another sibling is in the mix and she just so happens to be Jane Fucking Lynch which is pretty neat. I love the instant sibling rivalry we get. Like professionalism is instantly thrown out the door.

Also, im just now realizing, Shawns the only one who doesn’t have a sibling. Now you could argue Gus is like a brother to him, but like, it would be so interesting to see Shawn have to be responsible for a little sibling, or possibly have an older sibling who doesn’t quite have the gift feel overlooked when henry started teaching Shawn. Could you imagine all the fun dynamics and drama that would’ve ensued?? Like, how would that have affected his relationship with gus too- sorry, my thoughts spiraled.

He literally usues gus like siri

Theres an ongoing theme of Lassie loving strong, opinionated, or downright bossy women and i love that for him.

It’s time to talk about Chief Karen Vick. Specifically why she hires a psychic. At the very beginning, we learn that she knew Henry, and im guessing because she didn’t know shawn its because she joined the precinct in his teen years like Lassiter (since we also know he retires shortly after). or maybe she was at the academy when he did a lecture. I don’t believe its ever discussed how well she knew him, but it was certainly enough to call him and have him vouch for Shawn. It was enough to trust his word at least, whether it was based on simply knowing Henry’s talent, or because she actually knew him as a person, or maybe just that he was a respected cop.

This is all to say, i don’t think chief vick actually believes he’s psychic or ever did. Look at how she reacts when he tries to “divine” something about her.

Which means, Chief Vick is not above skirting around the law to catch the bad guy. After all, if she knows Shawns not psychic, then shes willingly letting this loose cannon into her crime scenes. And this kind of ties in with another point i have, which is that i don’t think she was actually getting Henry to vouch for his abilities at all, I think she was asking Henry what kind of a man Shawn was. She witnessed his skill with the Mccallum murder and saw all the calls he put in that helped solve other crimes, but she also has the arrest record, and the ever changing address. She needs to know if Shawn is someone she can trust.

So, she knows hes a fake, and likely knows how he’s gathering information (i Have to wonder if there was a case she had where justice was not met because of a law she wasn’t allowed to go around, like she knew someone was the killer but didn’t have any evidence to get a warrant and they got away). But having Shawn helps bypass the red tape because he can literally point them in the direction of evidence and claim he divined it.

Chief Vick is not someone to believe in mystics, she is, in fact, a rogue, someone getting to the truth by any means necessary while also keeping her hands clean. She has to play into the facade just as much as Shawn. It makes me wonder what kind of a cop she was, especially since we see how competitive she was. (and im also realizing that i dont think we ever saw her detective skills? Shes always been boss lady)

The moment with shawn and chief vick was really sweet, though. This is why i can rewatch psych as much as i do. They take time out of the episode to have small moments of real connection where we see that these characters actually care about each other.

As for the bad guy…idk i liked the showdown and shawn talking her down because of how it speaks to his character, but they really muddled her own character. They built her up as this like calculating, intelligent, and fed-up-with-misogyny woman and then at the end she not only falls for Shawns speech but starts crying when shes caught. Like, imo, she probably would have just shot shawn, or would have avoided that whole situation to begin with by not panicking in the first place. Shawn though, clearly hates guns, so i wonder whats up with that.

P.S

Gus’s smelling bobbing

And look how much fun our young dudes are having! What a bunch of cuties :)

[the-s1lly-corner]

can you make headcanons for all the tadc cast with a reckless reader?

also, have a good day :)

-daz

TADC cast x reckless! reader!

last post for this batch! ill get right back to answering stuff soon! my cinnamon roll dough is almost done with its first rise and ill have to shape them soon! also gotta make the frosting..! short post since the base of one of my thumbs is getting a lil sore idk if its because ive been typing so much these past few days or if i just slept on my hand wrong; maybe both

CAINE:

youre in luck reader! you cant really get hurt in the digital world...! well, not... traditionally.. you can definitely still feel pain, thats for sure, but i dont think your digital body has any bones to break or skin to scrape..! so hey at least you can kind of be as reckless as you want without consequence...! except, there are consequences. caine is not at all happy at your recklessness.. i mean sure yeah some of his IHAs can be more... intense, i mean zooble almost got turned into a gloink, but..! i think he tones down his adventures just so you wont throw yourself into the danger

POMNI:

tries to stop you but her words fall short as you run in yelling into whatever the threat is without a second thought. "i- wait- er..." and youre gone, leaving pomni to hurry and try to catch up with you. she probably has to drag you to safety, assuming this isnt a case where you got all glitched up by an abstracted circus member.. shes gonna have to work herself up to get you to chill out; perhaps ending in a whole emotional thing where she just. explodes? perhaps

RAGATHA:

just because you cant get hurt doesnt mean shes not going to fuss over you. if there were a need for it i think she would keep a pack of Band-Aids on her. however, because you guys cant get hurt in that way, she tries to keep you in bed when you inevitably get knocked a little too hard and need to rest it off. dont even think about trying to get up out of bed, shes going to give you this stern look that only a few percentage of people can muster.

you know the look

the stern one

scolds you too if you get caught up in something real dangerous

only really softens up if you threw yourself in danger for the sake of another person, because i think ragatha would do the same

JAX:

"bet you cant make that jump"

"bet i <> can!"

que you absolutely eating shit after you fail to make that jump, comically flipping over yourself and face planting. you probably have cartoon birds circling around your head. jax laughs at you before eventually coming over to help you up. he will not let you live this kind of stuff, down

KINGER:

he gets so so scared when youre not in his sight, i think if he knew you were willingly throwing yourself into harms way? this man would have a heart attack! like really, or he would if he still had his organs and stuff...if he could he would keep you in his pillow fort with him forever... but he cant, so he has to settle with following you around with meek attempts to try to stop you

ZOOBLE:

zooble would do similar stuff as jax, but when you actually. go to do the dangerous thing they just pull you back. "dude. i wasnt being serious"

bro has to keep you on one of those kid leashes because your first instinct someone says "bet" or "no balls" or anything in that vein, you need to prove yourself

GANGLE:

her comedy mask probably falls off from the sheer shock from how easily you just. launch yourself into things. on one hand she worries for you, but on the other hand she cant help but feel a little jealous; i mean shes just ribbon and a mask, shes not really... tough... strong.. durable... she wants to be able to run around and do the things you do but theres that fear of being immediately broken down or overpowered, you know? didnt mean to get silly there; anyways i think she would try to keep in you bed to sleep off the soreness, like ragatha

[incorrect-riordanverse]

finally reading tsats here are my live thoughts (spoilers, obviously):

i’m so excited because some pages are darkly decorated and its so cool. still don’t vibe with the title though (the sun IS a star and its peeving me)

why are we talking about dating darth vader 😟 where are we rn (anakin is a yes, but DARTH VADER???)

maybe i’m too old but the jokes are not funny 😭

“this whole place feels like my soul. empty and dark. dark as the pit of the underworld.” <- i don’t care if he’s joking nico would never say thissss 🙏😭 we’re only 10 pages in but please stop butchering my fav character he’s not himselffff i am cringing so bad

i know i’m being dramatic but if they do nico dirty in this book i’m going to end it all

oh my god i don’t think i’ve thought about the words “significant annoyance” in so long. bringing back good memories for sure.

i can tell which parts were written by riordan and which parts were written by oshiro. i don’t think their voices are blending very well together…

also, maybe it’s because it’s the start of the book and they’re trying to familiarise new readers quickly with the characters but it feels like they’re making nico the caricature of ‘emo and shadow and ebony darkness dementia raven way 🥀⛓️🖤’ and will the caricature of ‘happy and sunshine and blonde and flower gleam and glow ☀️🌈🫧’ and i usually like this dynamic when it’s not blatantly pointed out every other page. i have faith they’ll show more complexity than this later on though. future yan will let me know by the end. (future yan here, im not at the end but the characterisation def does get more complex thank gods)

oh ok so it is bob the titan

since when was nico’s actual name niccolo??? how did i forget this detail??

“you have to listen if not you’ll share my fate.” “ominous much?” <- ok he’s finally himself again guys it’s all good

the one-sided beef nico has with percy will never not be funny

“cookie monster appeared over the mouth of the jar, reached inside and gobbled up nico like the chocolate-chip cookie he was.” <- nevermind i’ve gone back to hating this book again

“what was one straight boy when you spent your whole life longing for the impossible?” <- i’m reminded of that time a few years back where everyone made ‘having an unrequited crush on percy’ nico’s whole fanon personality, so i’m glad they addressed this somewhat. this boy has been through so much and people really thought crushing on percy was the biggest thing to focus on about ‘nico angst.’

“we made a mistake. you have to fix it.” <- call me a red flag but if i was nico i would do anything and everything to not go. i would medicate myself so highly on sleeping pills that i can’t dream (doctor bf can go kick rocks). i would track percy and annabeth down and haul their asses into tartarus instead to do it. and if i had to go i would only go in to kill bob myself for sending me those traumatic ass nightmares. no thx. bro willingly jumped in himself and now wants me to save him. nuh uh.

not cupid being will 😭 its like his aphrodite 😭 i am not well.

they always have a really good and emotionally moving scene and they ruin it with a dumb joke. let it be heavy 👏👏

something’s really fishy and i have a feeling that it might not be bob calling for him

if this whole “grumpy ball of darkness” thing continues i will actually lose it

you can’t tell me the percabeth pep talk was actually needed. i will forgive it because i miss them though

im sensing tension in the gap between nico’s connection to the underworld and his relationship with will and i’m here for ittttt. give me the dramaaa

who is the gorgyra girl and why is she in their business sm?

oh shit a will solace pov??? christmas came early 🙏

nevermind that whole nightmare sequence was so fucked up 😭😭

somebody HELP HIM i never thought we would get will angst (nico angst fs, but will???)

DONT JUMP IN THE STYX PLEASE

SOMEBODY TELL HIM HE’S HELPFUL OMG

nico strangling epiales in his sleep is so fucking cool he’s literally HIM he’s literally THAT GUY

[nekumiho]

persona 3 reload came out yesterday so Naturally i was obligated to finally do a finished piece with my silly velvet room attendants submas au. alt versions, lore info, and misc doodles under the cut o__o (attendant related p5 spoilers mentioned). also sorry for the eyestrain.

protags they attend to are Fellow Twins hilda and hilbert who always just get referred to as 'passenger(s)'. velvet room manifestation is the inside of a subway car, no i havent worked out what that symbolizes to hilda and hilbert, dont worry about it. but i think whether its visibly in motion or not wld depend on the protags' mental state, one side of the windows for hilda and one for hilbert. mostly dark empty with no visual movement outside the windows w/ maybe a flickering station light somewhere or a visibly blocked tunnel for when theyre feeling stuck in life, default would be like a well lit platform outside of the window with faceless shadow people walking around, how crowded it is depends on their progress with social links. high speed through the tunnels with their half of the car rocking violently when there's high stress super dire stuff going on, steady movement when theyre making progress with something, etc etc

their brassards HOPEFULLY translate to 'down' (χάμω) and 'up' (πάνω) in greek??? i wanted smth like caroline and justine's hats but also not The Same and uhhh yknow. persona 3 and greek mythology are pretty :handshake:.

i dont wanna steal margaret's eldest sibling clout so i think physically ingo and emmet would be younger than her but only barely. margaret is literally the only attendant i can see being physically over like 35 and i need sbms to be mid thirties at like the bare minimum. theyre highkey disturbed whenever lavenza willingly splits herself back into caroline and justine. weirded out by the other 'twins' in general bc they're not even Real twins. they gatekeep being twins. if anyone asks "so are you guys also just two halves of one person" it will be the most offensive thing you could ever say to them. elizabeth and emmet bully theodore together. ingo doesnt dislike theodore but just kind of forgets he exists because the twins are always being like "my brother, [name] (pauses and remembers theodore), i mean, ONE of my brothers,"

emmet is very :handshake: with elizabeth while ingo is very :handshake: with margaret. they both have their own fave sisters whoops. (sorry lavenza). in any sort of 'dancing game' scenario theyre both awkward as hell. very theodore core in general with emmet having some of the elizabeth vibes of just 'i am just never going to stop making random jerky body movements' ingo is a BIT more stiff. but like in general i think theo's way of life and elizabeth's aria of the soul have pretty good ingo and emmet vibes respectively. if i ever learn model editing beyond texture replacement its so over for my mmds.

i love igor dearly but i think since there are Two of them they can kinda handle stuff on their own while igor helps with Other persona protags in their respective rooms? emmet says shit like "YEAH FUCK IGOR THIS IS OUR LINE!!!!!!!!!!!!" and ingos like "emmet be nice thats still our boss and the only reason he let us be in charge is because hes busy".

ingo handles all persona fusion stuff and emmet does storage/organization/other misc stuff and gives you p3 elizabeth styled quests. they can both be social linked because i say so. emmet is justice arcana and ingo is judgement. emmets quests are the only way or at least the main way to increase your social link with him and if you dont finish one of his Special Request ones you lose your link with him. one of the special requests is to take him and ingo to see a real subway station 100% because theyve never seen one.

of all the other velvet rooms, they like the p4 one the most because the inside of the limo is the closest to the subway car they're familiar with but i think theyd like the p3 one too for the possible rocking motion of the elevator eternally going up

thats all i can think of right now i THINK thats everything??? so heres an original concept sketch,

and also a funny emmet quest moments doodle

oh yeah emmet really fucking loves jack frost because they have similar vibes. ingo, on the other hand, is a big pyro jack fan.

[dr-spectre]

also it's a random thing but I've realized people have been using brainwashed wrong too

Brainwashing has nothing to do with actually mind controlling people and has everything to do with propaganda. And being told it constantly

For context -

<- the actual definition of doing something

if we use this definition instead of how literally everyone uses it (ie. It's just a replacement for mind controlled)

Then honestly callie being "brainwashed" makes more logically sense if you treat the hypnoshades as consistently feeding her propaganda. It's not literally taking over her mind she's literally probably being played octavios music tbh

Because it's canonically a thing that octavio uses music for propaganda

TLDR: even by LITERAL INSISTENCE INKIPEDIA DEFINITIONS that she id "brainwashed and mind controlled", she can not be mind controlled. Realistically if Callie was brainwashed that means she was just fed propaganda about Octarian.

So people can't argue that she was forced into that outfit she wears in splatoon 2 still because she probably chose to wear it maybe as a strange solidarity idea. It's not about being forced to wear something... Like that. It's wearing a uniform.

Uh that tldr is too long:

Etldr: callie can't be mind controlled no matter how much people insist, brainwashing literally is about propaganda and not "oh no my memories are lost I can't feel ::((("

You literally cannot force her to not have autonomy no matter if it's "brainwashing vs hypnosis"

It's NOT MIND CONTROLLL 😭😭😭😭

o god this is super long

I actually got a comment that was VERY similar to this!!! Someone (I forgot who) said, "I'm gonna think of cult brainwashing instead of sci-fi brainwashing for callie for my own sanity."

From my knowledge, the term brainwashing has always been this general term to describe mind control plots and shit like that and people use it poorly and wrongly. And THAT'S where my anger comes from. Because people wanna make Callie's arc in Splatoon 2 way worse, more disgusting and less interesting. It's so SOOOOO annoying and disregards any sort of arc that Callie could go through....

The word is either used in cults, or military experiments, or family drama of "you're brainwashing my child!" Or sci fi lazy bullshit where it's just "mind control and you lose all of your autonomy and memories" aka Winter Soldier, Widowmaker, etc. It's such a general term that has a trillion different meanings and it's fucking frustrating as hell.

If I try to look at Callie’s story through the lens of "standard" brainwashing where it's just psychological manipulation and propaganda from the Octarians and Octavio, considering that he is known to use music and other things as motivation to boost Octarians.... then... I actually wouldn't have a problem with people using that word... maybe...

Because Callie STILL had some amount of agency and autonomy, even with the shades on, she couldn't have been forced to do anything against her will cause of how hypnosis works. She still heard out the Octarians and listened to their propaganda. Was Octavio still in the wrong? Yeah! DUHHHH!!! NO FUCKING SHIT SHERLOCK!!! HE MANIPULATED A MENTALLY ILL SQUID WOMAN!!! YOU THINK IM RESOLVING THAT MAN OF BLAME?!?! FUCK NO!!! But in that scenario it's WAYYYY LESS EVIL than what the fuck people and Nintendo tried to suggest that they did. I dont wanna believe that Octavio immediately grabbed and then "brainwashed" Callie with the shades after she said "okay fine I'll hear you out." And then "kidnapped" her and her memories were wiped... Ugh. (Fucking Nintendo bro god I hate them...)

It would also help explain WHY she doesn't feel any sort of trauma or suffering from those events and why she finds the Octarians cute and why she went with Octavio to the Low Water party. She probably felt sorry for the Octarians and wanted to help them willingly because her life beforehand was shitty and she was alone... Octavio probably didn't need to do much to convince her, too, which is kinda sad... She probably doesn't feel regret or pain because, well, she was going through a rough period and she wanted an escape, so the Octarians, in her mind, were the only way out...

However.... I can't see that word the same anymore, and every time that I see it, I ALWAYS think of the bullshit sci-fi definition and people just LOVEEEE TO USE IT AS A CATCH ALL TERM!!!! IT'S REALLY REALLYYYYYY ANNOYING!!!!

That word has actually caused me physical reactions when I hear it, like I was in a family dinner and one of my parents used that word and like... I fucking tensed up and felt stinging across my entire body, my heart was pounding and stuff. NO THAT ISNT A JOKE! THATS HOW FIXATED I AM ON THE STUPID SQUID LADY!!!!

Idk if I will be able to comfortably use the word "brainwashing" to describe Hypno Callie because that word has been fully engrained to me as the sci fi. one, rather than the general cult one with more autonomy and more room to dive into depth and character change.

I guess you could say that Nintendo have... BRAINWASHED me into believing that the word is only used as a way to say mind control and "oh no I lost all of my memories!!!" Heh... Heh... eh.... I wanna die.

I fucking hate Nintendo bro. I hate them. So much.

Oh Nintendo, when I find you I swear to go-

[callmejod]

I have a headcanon request: James Norrington x Pirate!Reader.

How would he feel about them being a pirate? How would the relationship pan out? In an alternative world where he lives, would he still be part of the navy or would he completely side with the pirates? What would the reader think of him being a part of the Navy? Would they consider giving up their pirate life to be with him?

Thank you :)

Buckle up - this can of brainworms just exploded.

I think living with pirates and experiencing their life and lifestyle shed a new light for James. He'd be more mindful of what causes people to turn to piracy and if given oppurtunity - tries to help.

After all, in both DMC and AWE he did commit piracy in order to become an Admiral at the hands of Beckett.

If the only thing in the AU that changed was his death, I think James wouldn't even entertain the idea of coming back to the Royal Navy - not after all of Becketts dirty tricks would've been exposed.

If it comes to Pirate!reader and James' relationship.....

I want them to meet between The Curse and DMC.

You would probably meet on Tortuga or something life that.

Maybe even when Jack gets him onto the Pearl and then maybe just dumps him with you when you meet at some rundown port in the middle of nowhere.

That would be delicious.

Taking you are the captain, an extra pair of hands is always welcome. Jack probably conveniently did not mention, that the blackout drunk sailor he was bestowing upon you was in fact The James Norrington. No no. You have to find out yourself.

'What's you name son?'

When he finally wakes gets woken up with a cold seawater bucket to the face courtsy of first officer you do what any sane captain would do -

'Dont fuckin- - call me son.'

'Oof he has bite to his bark gentlemen......'

After a good chow and a hissy fit you get to actually talk to him.

What kinda ticks him off is your kindness towards him - taking things slow with the hangover that you ensured wouldn't get worse, not coldly demanding him to do everything he should be doing.

You get a minute to talk to each other in private and he just presents himself as James, scared you'll do something terrible, torture him for what he's done, even kill him.

He knows thinks he deserves it.

'Just James huh? Alright "Just James", what drove you to the sea?'

Gets surprised when you don’t press further on his identity. He works on your ship quite well actually - he's well versed in many things. A week later you try prying more information from him.

'A stupid expectation and even stupider decisions.'

'Damn, you sailors always come up with the same story huh.

He can feel the cold sweat at your words.

Even if he was ex- Navy - you started to harbour a crush on the guy. He's really charming when he wants to be and can spot a British ship from miles away. His knowledge of the sea is impressive. Many-a-time had he pulled you out of hot shit you were about to get yourelf in.

You knew. Of course you knew. You recognised him the moment he got on your ship. Stood with his back too straight for being so drunk. Almost saluted when first officer "woke him up". Carried himself with an aura of an old, tired soldier.

In a drunken moment at port he tells you his full name and makes peace that he's staying back. He then wakes up on the ship and almost cries.

And he has those eyes..... that seafoam you would willingly drown yourself in. And a great ass? The package is a perfect fit for you.

He then realises that your kindness for him may have awakened a feeling he long forsaken - love.

*two dense motherfuckers in a room*

*the crew collectively suffers when looking at you two lovesick fools who believe the other is too good to be with them.*

As time goes on, you continue to floor James with both your wit and bravery. You do not charge into battle unprepared or without good reason.

Over the months spent together your realtionship with James improves to the point he reveals a little of his life in Port Royal and how he sometimes wishes he could go back there. It breaks your heart but you bite your tounge. After all - he smiled so sweetly when he told you he found a new home on your ship, with the crew, with you.

And then DMC happens.

James deals with Beckett that with your help he will get Jacks compass. The plan is set to save you and your crew. God, he would throw himself off a cliff if he didn't donanything in his power to save your life - he would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat if it meant you were free from the East Indian Company.

'You. MY CREW GAVE YOU A HOME ON OUR SHIP ! THEY GAVE YOU A CHANCE TO BE FREE ! THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY THEM ?!'

Oh the anguish I feel when your ship gets captured by Beckett.

You are brought to the Lords' office and he offers you a deal. Your heart breaks when you see James there. You fall to your knees. He fucking feels the floor shake from the force of your fall. You pull on the chains, making two guards holding you almost stumble to keep you in place.

Hot tears are spilling from your eyes. Every one that falls twists a knife in his heart.

'Get them to agree or neither you, or them are leaving this port alive.'

You of course deny the deal but Beckett is no dumb. He saw how hard James tried to act neutral. When the guards drag you away somewhere Beckett gives James a pointed look.

On the way out he recieves a key. James knew exactly where to use it. He has never run as fast as he did to your cell.

Seeing you in those chains - nay - in such histeric tears makes him want to carve his heart out. The damp, smelly dungeon doesn't really help with making you look less miserable.

James grips the metal bars so hard his knuckles turn white.

'Please. Please let me explain.'

'There's nothing to explain. Admiral.'

The distant look you give him makes his blood run cold.

He forces the doors open fuck the key right? , bursts in and gathers you in his arms, despite your protests. You cry, wail, curse him. And he lets you.

Now he really desereved it.

All he can do is soothe you.

You give up on trying to pry him away from you. He just won't let go. He holds you like your're going to fall apart at any moment and frankly, your'e close to doing so. The feelings you so meticulously hid away surge to the surface and you can't help but relax into the warmth of his arms.

'I'm so, so sorry that it's come to this.'

'You're not sorry. You got your life back. I knew what I was getting myself into. I knew my happily ever after wouldn't come. Especially not with you.'

You feel James freeze.

'Me?'

'Yeah, I never even intended to tell you but now that I'll probably hang by tommorow-'

'Your happy ever after - what does that mean?'

He moves so fast you barely register when he looked into your eyes for the truth and when he buried his face in your neck. You sit and listen to his heathing breaths, the thumping of his heart and wonder - is it stress or- Owwwww fucking hell out with it already - you think.

After a little you whisper :

'It means i love you James. And I hoped life wouldn't be so cruel to those who long for freedom.'

You feel something wetting your shirt. A full body sob jostles you.

It's James' turn to weep.

'You big baby, don't cry. We'll be alright.'

Leaving on a cliffhanger >>>>>>

I hope it's readable - I've last written fiction like 5 yrs ago.

9.4.24 I wrote it fast so there's probably some spelling issues, I'll look later k mbyeeeeeee

10.4.24 K, I've looked this through, added a few thingies