#even though it would have destroyed her not to be

[kensingtonbae]

Ayyy tysm for the tag Skye!! Also TWO SPIDERS???

Pets: I have two female dogs, a boxer named Yuma and a toy poodle named Angelina. Yuma is our family dog, my grandparents’ too, very old, she’s twelve and kind of sick but she’s a sweetheart <3 Angelina is a little girl, she’s two and was born the exact same day as me. My parents got her for me when I was in a really dark place mentally and physically and I was struggling to stay alive. She’s my best friend and my soulmate, when we’re together we never leave each other’s side and when we’re apart (I live in another city fo uni) I suffer a lot and ask for pics every couple of hours😭 literally the world could end and I’d spend my last minutes with her. ima stop here because I could talk about the love of my life for hours🥹🥹

Comfort food: ice cream!!! My fav food ever, I’m an expert connoisseur and eat it as a meal all the time. I I could eat one food for the rest of my life, it would be it. Nothing brings me joy like my dear gelato 🍨

Languages: I speak fluently Italian and English and Italian dialect (here in Italy dialects are a whole completely different language that basically stand apart from Italian) also i used to know French pretty well and I can understand Spanish perfectly (but I can’t speak it)

Random fact: I used to be an elite gymnast😩 I started when I was like 5 years old and quit at 14. I used to train at least 4 hours a day, with two days in winter of 7 hours (I’d go to school for only 3 hours) from morning to evening, and 4 in the summer (we called it the double training hahah). Even tho it was basically my whole life, the toxic environment and the heaviness of the trainings left me deeply traumatized omg though quitting is one of my biggest regrets.

Something I’m proud of: probably being happier now. I’m not totally a serene person, but I struggled for such a long time with mental illness that completely destroyed me, that being the funny and extroverted person that I used to be makes me so proud. I’m so glad that now I can enjoy hanging out with my friends and many aspects of my life. I have a still long way to go and recovery isn’t linear, I have many ups and downs, but now I can finally say that I enjoy life🥹

Np tags: @moonspirit @annawayne @dudewhy3 @aruanimess @darcycrow

Tag game because I want to know you better !

-Do you have a pet ?

-Comfort food ?

-How many languages do you speak ?

- Random fact about yourself

-Something you’re proud of

To begin this little tag game, I’ll tag @ebony-reine-vibes @freddie-77-ao3 @newobsessioneveryweek @thehaikuman and @miraclesnail

I hope the questions aren’t boring and love you all 😘

[kabuki-writes]

Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia

chapter: 6 chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

pairing: emperor geta/emperor caracalla x acacius' daughter!reader

summary: The wedding ceremony with Emperor Geta gives you a first glimpse of what you are going to face, once the title 'Empress' crowns you. Meanwhile Caracalla has to deal with the thoughts about his twin owning you now.

warning(s): heavy nsfw & sexual violence | angst | alcohol consumption | drug consumption | semi-edited | english is not my first language, faults may occur | please let me know if i missed anything

Note: I am wishing you all a 'Merry Christmas'! Sorry that this chapter took so long, i wanted to finish it faster, but i was ill for quite some time and had no head for writing. No worries though, i am feeling better now! A small reminder: Due to the holidays, the next chapter might take a bit of time.

word count: 3.6k

Gods expected rituals and nothing in Rome was more important, more holy and more strict to certain rules than a wedding - especially the wedding of an Emperor. A whole series of necessaries had to be prepared in advance to this special celebration before the bride and the groom were able to stand in front of the altar. From the preparation of the dowry to the sacrifices made to the gods. It all began with the most formal part: engagement ceremony, where the exchange of promises between the groom and the bride's father hold more significance than the words of the soon-to-be-wed woman. In Roman society, being born a female was still strongly bound to ownership. First the ownership of the father and then the ownership of the husband. And even though rich Roman women had more freedom than others, it was still a life in societal chains.

Now that you sat on the floor to your mother‘s feet, you instantly thought about the eyes of that lamb your family had brought to the temple of Juno as a sacrifice. The innocence in its eyes slaughtered by the dagger of the priest. One Life for another Life - yours. Did Juno have her blessing? How could you know right now.

„Mother��?“, you spoke out as you noticed the shaking hands and the tears in your mother‘s eyes.

She was pale as marble, trying her best to keep her face, but you were well aware of how much it destroyed her and your father to let you go - especially when the arms of your soon-to-be-husband were Emperor Geta. As a daughter, you tried your best to comfort your mother, as much as it hurt you too. Your hands took hers, gently squeezing them, while your eyes found hers. "I shouldn't cry, i know...", she whispered and placed her hand on your cheek through the thin fabric of the flame-coloured veil that covered your face. Your body was clothed in a beautiful white tunica dress, embroidered with golden depictions of different flowers. You were shackled by the amount of jewelry - engagement presents of Emperor Geta for his bride -, expensive golden necklaces and bracelets that should depict the status you will have standing by his side. Although you were no Empress yet, you wore a bridal crown on top of your carefully braided hair. One of woven fragrant herbs and flowers, Rosemary, verbena, marjoram, roses, violets, and lilies, to represent fertility.

"My beautiful daughter, even Venus would envy you now. But i had wished that... that you would not have to marry a man like-"

"Don't", you stopped her, knowing fully well, which name she was about to say and you shook her head. It was meaningless to express any form of sorrow or hatred, even if this wedding was a forced one - a trade for your own life and that of your parents. Terrible or not, it would bring honor to your family and in the end, it would make you Empress. A gift as well as a heavy burden, especially given the man that will be your husband - your Emperor. Geta.

A marriage ceremony always followed specific rules, that were meant to please the gods. A scacrifice in the temples of Juno and Jupiter was mandatory, but soon you'll face another significant part of your wedding. As Romans believed the only bride of value was a virgin who had to be stolen from her family, they simulated the bride being abducted from her family as part of the ceremony. You were able to hear the chants and chattering of the big entourage of guests arriving to you parent's home outside - accompanied by a large amount of Praetorian Guards and the Emperor himself. Usually the large wedding feast and celebration would take place at the bride's family home, but given the significance of an Emperor's wedding and the amount of guests, it was agreed that it would take place in the palace after the procession.

Even if you tried to face it with a stoic mask, your heart pumped against your chest - a mixture of excitement and fear. Your eyes closed for a moment, as you heard the footsteps and voices of the Praetorian soldiers and amongst them Geta's, who was the first to enter the room. You were still facing your mother, holding her hands tight, while tears ran down her face. "I am here to claim my bride", the Emperor called out with a triumphant smile on his face, dressed in a golden, heavy decorated armor and a white groom's toga - a depiction like a god. Unusual for a wedding ceremony, but it was a symbol. A symbol of the power and wealth of the twin's reign, a symbol of his triumph over General Acacius, who had no choice anymore than to give him his most precious belonging - his daughter.

Seeing you there on your knees was a sight we might never forget. Even if your back faced him, he could see your curves under the garment you wore and he immediately thought about the wedding night, which was the highlight in his mind for today. But right now he had to calm himself, as he stepped forward and suddenly took you at the waist to pull you from your crying mother's embrace. "Mother!", you screamed as the groom forced you to go with him, tears dripping down your cheeks under the flame-red veil. The tradition dictated that the bride would cry out in pain to fool the gods of the home that she was taken away, 'stolen' before you would have to walk the procession without the protection of any god until you stepped into the home of the groom.

All of Rome had gathered in the streets to witness the procession of the Emperor's wedding. You stood at his side on a richly decorated chariot carried by two pale-white horses. The big amount of wedding guests accompanied your path by singing the Hymenaeus and carrying a whitehorn torch, a spina alba, to honor the goddess Ceres. Normally you would simply walk to the palace, as it was the core of such a parade, but nothing was normal about an Emperor's wedding and especially not Geta's. He wanted to show-off, he wanted eveyone to know how powerful he was and that he was now marrying the daughter of one of Rome's most successful beloved generals. It was all calculated and everything followed a plan, he viewed as perfect. This union was not only a definite way to get you, it formed an even closer bond between his and his brother's reign and your father's role as a military general. Would he ever betray them again, it will also be a betrayal against you. And another calculated side-effect was the use of Acacius' popularity through a marriage with his daughter.

The masses cheered for you and for the Emperor, they wished you "feliciter" - "good luck" for your marriage, some of them even shouted your name. It felt surreal and you were glad that the veil covered your face, while you bit your tongue. The palace, your new home, on the palatin hill looked even more oppressive than the last time you'd faced it. Your heart was heavy and you could practically feel the stare Geta gave you, but also the one of Caracalla, who followed you two alongside your father and mother as part of the wedding procession. There was something lingering in his eyes, something you didn't notice as you were focused on what lied ahead. Geta leaned towards your ear and whispered.

"Isn't it exciting, my dear...? You will soon be the wife of an Emperor, my wife." He accenturated his last words, almost as if he had to point out that your life center will soon be him and him alone.

"How could i forget. Just as i may never forget the true reason, why i am here. A threat is still a threat", you answered in a low tone, provocative.

But the groom simply chuckled and turned his face towards the cheering masses again, waving to the common folk. He didn't really care about them in any way, but he knew well about the power of such events in the eyes of the plebs. And to accompany this wedding, he'd already ordered games in the collosseum and many festivities around Rome in honor of his special day.

"Let me tell you that i rather enjoy those little outbursts of hatred. I will ask you again, once you enjoy all the privileges an Empress has. I can be a generous man, as long as you're not testing my patience. For now, i simply expect you to smile and show those peasants the beauty of their beloved general's daughter. Let them see that the sun is shining upon them in the presence of Venus."

Words like honey and yet they tasted bitter to you, while his hand was locked on your back, not only to stabilize you on the chariot, but also holding you tightly against his own body. You belonged to him now and he wanted everyone to see that.

_______________________________

“Ubi tu Gaia, Ego Gaius.”

“Ubi tu Gaius, Ego Gaia.”

The words still rang in your head, again and again, even as the music and the chattering of the feast surrounded you. And you still felt the kiss of Geta's lips on yours, even if it was only the beginning. You were considered married now.

Fire and Water. The symbol of life. The moment you stood at the main door of the palace, a matron of honor hold a candle and a bowl of water, as both you and Geta traced your hands over it. He was able to lift your veil at that point, kiss you and carry you over the doorstep - it was that simple in the end. And it had sealed your life forever.

It was necessary and yet the kiss was longer than it should've been as it was the first symbolic union of groom and bride in front of the wedding guests, who cheered and honored them with chanter and congratulations. And even though it was just a kiss on the lips, nothing more, you could practically sense the hunger of Geta, the hunger for more. Of course it had to wait until he got you in his bed the first time, but this would soon become a reality and you didn't know if you were ready for it.

The music and the voices of the people were still a numb background sound as your eyes glanced over the room, while you were sitting right next to your now husband on a lectus, receiving one personal congratulation after another. The palace was richly decorated, even more than the last time you were here for the victory celebrations of your father. Hordes of servants ran around to assure that all the guests had enough of the expensive wine and expansive food, luxuriously presented on a long table with tons of fruits, vegetables, fish as well as expensive, rare meat such as ostrich, peacock and wild deer.

Roman generals, politicians, rich merchants, every patrician from Rome’s upper class had gathered here to celebrate the union between Emperor Geta and his new wife. The wedding gifts ranging from gold, jewelry and silk to exotic animals were piling up in another room, as servants had to walk in and out, every time another guest paid his respect. You gave them your smile and your words of thanks and yet none of it really reached your eyes, as you were still trying to cope with the fact that they now adressed you as 'Empress'. Your eyes went to your parents, which were part of the guests, who participated in the feast and celebrations. But you could clearly see the pain in your father's eyes and the pale face of your mother, who could barely eat something even though she tried to hide her sorrows behind her rehearsed mask of charm and politeness. Their eyes find yours in certain moments and it hurt you the most to see them like this as you knew very well, that your father gave himself the blame for your current situation. But you had already moved on, as it made no sense to cry about the past in any way.

But you were pulled from your thoughts, when it was Emperor Caracalla, who stepped forward to pay his respect to the new wed couple. The twin of Geta with the golden laurel wreath crown on his head was dressed in an ornate that depicted his wealth, expensive embroidered silk in dark blue and purple colors, a stark contrast to his gingerblonde, wild hair. Even though he smiled, you could see that it was a forced one, a bitter smile, hiding his true thoughts. "Brother, i congratulate you and your beautiful wife on your wedding. May the gods bless this union," he spoke out, while Geta already stood up and you followed him.

"Your words mean the most to me, Caracalla. Thank you," his twin answered with a happy smile as he took him into his arms and hugged him tight.

Even though Geta came off as a crual human being sometimes, it was undeniable that he hold nothing but a strong brotherly love for his twin, despite them sharing the power. After Geta, Carcalla turned to you and placed his hands on your cheeks.

"I welcome you to the family," he whispered, before he placed one kiss on each side of your cheek.

It was not an uncommon gesture to do so, especially not as a way to welcome someone in a new household - but Geta's eyes were locked on you two as his brother did so. And you were very aware that something was off in this very moment, as you could feel the slightly trembling fingers of Caracalla on your skin, as if he had to hold himself back. He quickly stepped back, staring into your eyes, while a servant rushed to him, giving the Emperor a small wooden box, carved with all sorts of flowers.

"I thought, ... since you'e now the new Empress of Rome, the only present worth your grace would be a crown that truly underlines your beauty," Caracalla explained and opened the box.

In it was a golden half-round Roman-styled tiara with ornamental decorations, well-crafted with every little detail that catched your eyes. It was stunning, even given all the expensive jewelry with which Geta had hung you, it was still breathtaking. A soft smile appeared on your lips, before you spoke your words.

"This is a wonderful and very generous gift, my Emperor. I thank you dearly". Caracalla's lips shuddered, before he forced an almost innocent smile on them too.

"This tiara is made after my personal request. The artist was assigned to model it after the crown that Empress Poppea wore once. The wife of Emperor Nero. I thought you might like the... historical connotation to it".

Your face grew pale, while you tried your best to keep your smile in place. Geta didn't seemed to realize what his brother meant with that - but you did. You instantly remembered the conversation you had with him at the amphitheater, you remembered the way he looked at you, the desire in his eyes, that was still present in this very moment. And even though his brother did not understand the true meaning behind Caracalla's gift, he did sense the tension that lingered in the air.

"Thank you, brother", he instantly cut the air with his voice, his hands softly taking the tiara out of the box before you could do anything.

Geta positioned himself between you and Caracalla, a very clear symbol that even if he tolerated his brother in your presence and might even be willing to allow him much more freedom than a husband would, it was still Geta, who called you his wife now. You were his. So it was him, who placed the tiara onto your head, where it perfectly fit with the half-bridal hairstyle you wore. His eyes lingered on your face for a moment, before his fingers touched your skin as he pushed one of your straints of hair back in place before leaning down to your ear.

"Just a little more time and then I'll have you all to myself", he whispered, before he turned to his seat again.

There was only one step for this marriage to be fully recognized in the eyes of the gods and it was the wedding night - Geta's prize, which he longed for and Caracalla's hell. The reminder he will not be the first to have you, but his twin.

_______________________________

"Say it! SAY THAT YOU LOVE ME!", he hissed over and over again, pounding harder with each word.

His fingers pressed against the neck of a concubine, while his golden rings tightly pinched into the soft flesh. She wore quite a similar attire than you did today, her hair styled like yours, her face at least reminding Caracalla of you. But that concubine was nothing like you, a dull replacement, a vessel the Emperor needed to get the heat and anger off his mind as he fucked her senseless under the eyes of his entourage of male and female slaves. No one said a word, fear was written in their eyes, because they knew it was one of their owners 'outbursts'. They could see how the young woman tried desperately to get a catch of air, while Caracalla strangled her in his psychotic state, tears running down his cheeks as he did so. Instead of his brother it should've been him to marry you, to fuck you, to love you like you deserved. A goddess amongst the common humans, a Venus. He was Nero and you were his Poppea. At least here in his own chambers, he could play out this fantasy, while the wedding celebration still went on and you were probably on your way to the chambers of his damned twin brother Geta. It needed a lot of sex and a cocktail of ancient drugs to numb his thoughts over this injustice.

"I love you-..., my Emperor", the young woman under him moaned with all the strength that she could find in a situation like that, the fear of losing her life all written on her face.

But those words were the ones Caracalla needed to hear. With a couple of heavy thrusts, he came inside of her, spilling his semen into that concubine like he would've done with you - if he just had the chance. His eyes were still shimmering wet with his tears, while he pulled back, catching his breath for himself in this moment. The young woman layed on the mattress in front of him, still alive, but in a state of bliss and shock, her eyes wet in tears as well. She wasn't able to say something, and even if so, she were not allowed to do anyways. Caracalla's ice-blue eyes stared cold at her naked body, freezing in the moment as he tried to still pretend to himself that it was you laying in front of him. But it wasn't you and it hit his mind now. This woman was just another whore he tried so desperately to numb his thoughts with. Yet the voices in his head grew louder and louder. "Get her out of my sight!", the Emperor ordered.

"I don't want to see this girl ever again. She is nothing compared to her - throw her away, i cannot stand this waste any longer!", he screamed with a hoarse voice, still sobbing.

"Where is Dondus!?"

No one dared to speak up in a situation like that, no one even dared to look at Caracalla. Everything that might anger the young Emperor could end in an immediate death right now. Even the slave that always carried his pet monkey around, simply rushed to the Emperor and handed him over Dondus in silence, before retreating as fast as possible.

"Oh Dondus, all of this is so unfair. Every time i desire something, he has to take it from me. Nothing truly belongs to me and me alone... it is alwas us", he mumbled with a shake in his voice, while he carefully took his monkey and placed him on a pillow as if it was his child.

Caracalla never treated anyone as careful and caring as he treated his pet monkey. In fact, he could be quite cruel, depending on his mood that changed rapidly between weird happiness and irrational anger. This little animal had more importance to him than any human life - well, except for yours of course. And everyone here knew this. The Emperor would never hurt Dondus, but it only took one outburst of hate for a slave or even a patrician to lose their head in an instant.

"I want her, my Poppea ... i cannot stand the thought of not having her...i cannot. I love you her you understand this, Dondus, don't you? No one understands me the way you do. She is an incarnation of Venus."

But Dondus just looked at him with his dark button eyes - how could a monkey understand love? And how could he understand, how much it pain it left in Caracalla.

____________________________

Tags:

quuinyoung koshkahhh mmkkzz analves pandora-journey ange-olras tellynojelly targwh0re h3k3t onelemonoat whitenoise808 spooky-cupid dev1lbella onelemonoat hawraa-alzubaidi omg-hellgirl the-holy-pigeon justnobodynothingmore fandomblogs-stuff justnobodynothingmore superblyspeedydragon deliciousfestsalad moon-390 lv9su harmfulb1tch apollonshootafar zalera8310 sweetffcts lvspedri soltik capitanostella weepingfashionwritingplaid labellapeaky @qardasngan @fallout-girl219 @chaand-sitara @eighttens @riddlerloveb0t @nicksolemnlyswears @myotakureprieve @lovely--lover @idiotsatan @mqrrstarr @eclypsosworld @happythingtiger @a-lovers-card

[jpegarchives]

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏, 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐄 — 𝐑. 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐀

rintarō suna x f!reader

rintarō suna’s guide on how to ruin a friendship, twice

cw ; none for this chapter

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁

preface

upon picking up this book, most people would be wondering, why would anyone ruin a friendship, not once, but twice?

while it’s true that friendships are thought to be unbreakable safe havens, bonds that can withstand the test of time, it’s often the people closest to us that hurt us the most. maybe it’s because we just them to stay that their actions cut us the deepest and hurt us the most.

dear reader, this guide isn’t for the faint of heart. it’s for those who have loved fiercely, perhaps too fiercely to the point of destroying what once was thought to be indestructible. this guide is for those who are looking for second chances, a way to amend the broken, a way to rebuild something stronger.

and if you're lucky—or unlucky—enough, you might just discover that ruining what once was can lead to something far more than friendship.

so, welcome to rintaro suna's guide on how to ruin a friendship, twice. let's get started.

THE SUMMER RINTARŌ SUNA TURNED SIX might have been the most memorable summer of his life.

Maybe it was because it was the first summer he can still fully recall down to the smell of the sweet grass of the field near his house where all the neighborhood kids played, or maybe it was because of the little (h/c) haired girl that moved across the street from him, but either way, it was a summer he’s sure he’ll never forget.

Rintarō Suna has never been an expressive person, even in his youth. Despite many attempts, the most anyone (his family included) could coax out of him would be a sigh or a roll of his eyes. He wasn’t much of a ‘talker’ either, preferring to stay silent and let others steer conversations while he would just nod along, sometimes he’d even throw in a word or two.

The summer after he turned six also turned out to be the summer he learned to become a little more expressive and just a smidge more talkative, all thanks to the little (h/c) haired girl who moved in across the street.

Y/N L/N DIDN’T KNOW MANY PEOPLE in the area she moved to in July of 2010, all she knew was that her father had gotten a new job and her family would have to move.

Moving from one side of Aichi prefecture to the other had some minor consequences: moving houses, changing schools, and making new friends. Y/n L/n loved her friends from her old school, and making friends was always a daunting challenge. Especially when you’re six years old, and starting in the third term as opposed to the first like everyone else.

But for Y/n L/n, it seemed as though making friends was akin to breathing for her. It was almost as if she was a people magnet, drawing others towards her like moths to flames.

And Rintarō Suna was the biggest moth to her flame.

a/n ; this is unedited/not revised or proofread teehee

taglist is open! link to be added ; @massacremars @archelangeli @sahrii @noleavemealone777 @kr1nqu @bbybibi @tanuki-tanuki @esunarint @eggyrocks @pookalicious-hq @sunathnker @mybelovedvi @hanadulsetaad @whorefornoodles @bertqut1 @saltypuffin1040 @choizzn @loveyislost @gigiiiiislife @lulumallow @thesleepinglion @kinichval @heartmaddie @sunarots

[halogenwarrior]

As an addendum to my previous post on Rachel – another way the other Animorphs misinterpret her that fans sometimes copy is this sense that she thinks her life is worthless because she has gone too far, there’s nothing for her beyond the war so what would she have to live for, that it’s fitting that she dies in the end in this way (see Jake in #22 being like “you are an addict, what would you be without this war?”) But the reality is I think even more tragic, especially in light of others misinterpreting it. The truth is that Rachel wants to live, so much that she doesn’t even understand how anyone could be suicidal (#17), there’s always something worth living for that’s better than death. She wants to live, and even so when she first meets Tobias who really does feel like his life is worth nothing, she is the first to say that he matters to her, even when none of them know him well – but there is always the inherent tension between them in their relationship that as compassionate as she is she really doesn’t comprehend the mindset of someone who doesn’t care much if he lives or dies. She wants to live, and that’s what makes her respect this ideal of a warrior so much, as in Megamorphs #3 where she narrates that those who fight in wars are the best and worst of humanity, with the best part being because they are willing to sacrifice themselves even though life is so valuable. And I think there’s a disconnect in that when Jake sends Rachel on the final suicide mission, he thinks it has to be her because she is always the one sent to fight on the frontlines and destroy herself, who will embrace the war in life and death because she is nothing without it and she would never be happy alive, when really yes it does have to be her, even though she is scared, even though she really does want the life of peace that will come at last if they just survive one more day, but the very knowledge she values life so much makes her push herself to be willing to put herself in front of the others, over and over again, as a sacrifice - physically, emotionally and morally.

[baphometsss]

The only way I can accept the bullshit they pulled with her in this game is if she's manipulating Solas into maintaining the Veil for now because she has something else up her sleeve and the Veil needs to stay up for that to happen. It would be more in keeping with her character since she has basically been using Solas like a tool since the moment she met him as a spirit in the Fade. She has a propensity for using men, as you pointed out, and he also stole her power and tried to destroy a part of her (as well as rebelling against her and pissing her off in a number of ways we probably don't even know about). Tinfoil hat time here but what if Solas was someone she wanted revenge on too? Sending him to the Fade to fix their mistakes would be one way of going about it.

I know it's a long shot and with the way things are going, DA5 will probably titled Dragon Age: Gotham Knights or something and feature Neve battling some Joker knock-off in an even more watered-down Thedas. We won't get to see how Thedas has changed since the Blight, but just the end products of it. No more slavery, the Crows are good guys now, Ferelden somehow rebuilt itself, Mages are happy, the Dales belong to the Elves once more, etc. It'll just be done in a blank period.

But!! If they get their shit together and actually deliver a decent game that isn't horribly derivative of Marvel/DC, I can see Mythal being either a Big Bad or the Big Deus Ex Machina saviour like she has been in the last couple of games. I'm kind of torn if I want that though, because I think they've overused both her and Morrigan somewhat. There can, in fact, be several great women in Thedas's story, but it seems like they're dead set on there being one single woman at the root of all of them. (This is kinda why I hate the Mythal is Andraste theory. Sorry, but no. It can't all be Mythal.)

I think the bottom line is that they were planning on having Mythal be much more of a villain in this game, but it ultimately became Solas-centric instead. She becomes a figurehead for all his motivations, even though, in the end, it boils down to him being unable to accept the weight of his own failures. However, she and Solas were plotting separately for thousands of years, too. She wouldn't have waited around for him to do it for her. Him bringing down the Veil might have disrupted the plans she was making too.

Tbh though I'm being too generous to this studio and they probably just watered her down bc Woman Good Man Bad and don't want to follow through on the story they built up about a morally complex woman. Still, it doesn't hurt to theorise.

Sorry, but I just don’t buy the whole “actually Mythal decided after centuries of wandering Thedas as Flemeth that modern people deserve a chance” thing. Because the fragment of Mythal we’re talking about is the jaded old swamp witch who

-Inhabited the body of a woman betrayed by her lover(s) because they found common ground in their suffering and the injustices done to them. (“Once I was but a woman, crying out in the lonely darkness for justice.” - DAI)

-Resents that betrayal to the point she views men as disposable playthings that she can lure back to her hut, have her way with, and then… murder? I think? (Based on Morrigan’s own account in DAO)

-Abused her daughter under the guise of tough love in an attempt to prepare her for a cruel uncaring world. (Again, Morrigan’s account, DAO)

-Says during her appearance in Inquisition that she will have her reckoning.

-Spent centuries consolidating her power as well as cycling through different human women’s bodies via questionable means for the sake of bringing about said reckoning. (“I have carried Mythal through the ages ever since, seeking the justice denied to her.” and about the Inquisitor: “A Herald indeed. Shouting to the heavens, harbinger of a new age.” - DAI)

-During her scene with Solas at the end of Inquisition does NOT say ANYTHING about disagreeing with Solas’s plans, just that she considers him and old friend and is sorry things are going the way they are. (Seriously, is the dialogue in that regret scene in Veilguard supposed to be from a mental connection they had? Because that dialogue just isn’t in the Inquisition scene.)

And I’m supposed to believe that in her last moments, Flemythal backed off and went “actually I think we need to maintain the status quo”????

None of this paints a picture of someone who has gone soft over time. At least not to the degree that is presented in that regret scene in Veilguard. Sure Flemeth wasn’t all bad, she had some tenderness to her. She shows some genuine care for Morrigan and Kieran (if present) and seems hurt when Morrigan implies she was trying not to be the kind of mother Flemeth was to her.

At the end of Inquisition, we can’t tell for certain to what degree she approves of Solas’s methods. But it seems like a step in said methods was to absorb her power and doom her, an embodiment of Justice, to take a passive role once more. And we know what happens when a spirit is denied its purpose. Justice denied its purpose could turn to Vengeance. Which, to me, feels like it would better echo the themes of Solas’s pride/wisdom duality, inquisition’s themes around what it means to become a god-like force of nature, DA2’s question of whether violence is necessary for revolution (which literally has the Justice/Vengeance duality in it with Anders), and DAO’s theme of sacrifice for the greater good.

[brittle-doughie]

I need to see the reactions of the 5 Beasts about Corrupted Benign Butter Cookie because I just Love the design please I'm on my knees 🛐

I know, @/kokohiki is TOP TIER for their work on handling a corrupted Benign Butter (or Y/N Cookie). I can’t thank them enough!

Eternign may be a little complicated, since Eternal Sugar is too lazy to remember that Benign Butter HATES anything to do with love, being the virtue of Scorn now. So when expressing any sort of it verbally, she’s seconds from getting crumbled! Doesn’t stop her from doing it again though.

BenignSalt is on more friendly terms, simply because Silent Salt…is silent! So there’s no words of love that Salt can say that would annoy Butter, which is win in both of their books. Silent Salt does have no choice but to admire from afar, for a broken heart can also be a volatile one.

Beniflour is a little MORE complicated. Mystic Flour can see into Benign Butter’s soul and saw that they’re a troubled soul, for their heart had been broken little by little by the Cookies that left them behind. Their own Cookies causing this pain….In a way…she can relate to that pain, but while she was apathetic in the end, Butter only grew more…hateful at the concept of loving others. Mystic Flour sometimes wonders…if it was possible to even hold their hand like the old days…

ButterMilk is interesting, Shadow Milk will take the time out his grand speeches and stage plays to praise Benign Butter, kind of lowkey wishing that they’d completely destroy HIM instead, much to his weirded out friends. Benign finds it…intriguing that Shadow Milk wants to be at Benign’s mercy so bad. They’ll do a little tease here and there, but always keeps managing to string him along~

BurniButter has Shadow Milk’s only obstacle in his efforts to impress Benign Butter, and that’s Burning Spice Cookie. Seeing Benign’s utter hatred for love and the destructive lengths they’ll go to destroy the ones responsible for their anguish has gotten Spice’s jam boiling. He relishes the day that he can get a fight out of Benign Butter that will also be a confession of his fiery feelings towards them that will surely anger Butter. The perfect moment.

[kikyoupdates]

Made to Destroy ⭑˚💎⭑ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑

bnha x op!reader

op!reader, my hero academia x fem!reader, reverse harem, over powered reader, f!reader

You are the product of a series of twisted experiments, an anomaly that shouldn’t have ever existed in the first place. Thankfully, you are taken into the arms of a hero and given a new purpose in life. But as you soon discover, it isn’t easy to deny your true nature, especially when you were made to destroy.

prologue | story masterlist | next

I don’t know where I’m going.  

You’ve been walking for a while now, with no real destination in mind. Truthfully, you’re not searching for anyplace in particular. You just figure that anywhere will be better than being stuck with that crazy old man.  

So, you walk. The building you’ve just come out of is rather secluded, tucked away behind a canopy of trees. There’s no one else as far as the eye can see, so you make the journey in total silence, instead focusing on the sweet-tasting air, and the little birds that flit from branch to branch.  

The minutes trickle on, turning to hours, and you find yourself weighed down by a heavy feeling that must be fatigue.  

But it’s okay. Because it seems like you’ve just reached the city.  

Here, you are no longer alone. It’s crowded and busy, and there are tons of people roaming about. You can’t help but blink in awe. Up until now, the only person you’ve met was Dr. Garaki. You never imagined that there would be so many others besides him.  

Curious, you take a step forward. 

Only to be immediately pulled back.  

“Be careful!” a woman cries out, and something speeds past you at that very moment, just narrowly missing your body. You frown and look back at the woman in confusion. For some reason, she’s gasping for breath and her shoulders are trembling. “You almost walked right in front of that car,” she says shakily. “Seriously, you need to look both ways before crossing. The pedestrian light wasn’t even on.”  

You’re not really sure what she’s talking about, but you nod nonetheless. 

“Okay,” you reply. “Thank you.”  

She lets go of your arm, then looks you over for quite a long time. Something about your appearance must not sit right with her, because her brow is now furrowed.  

“Is everything okay—”  

“Hey, what’s the hold up?” someone else interjects. It’s a man, and he loops his arm around the woman’s. “Come on, I’m in a hurry here. I need to get back to work soon.”  

“Oh. This girl was about to wander out into the street, so I got worried about her,” she explains.  

“Yeah? Well, she’s fine now, so let’s go. Like I said, I don’t have time for this.”  

The woman is jerked along without another word, but you can see her glancing back over her shoulder every few moments, a look of concern plastered across her face.  

Eventually, she disappears through the crowd, so you shrug and carry on walking.  

A lot of people seem to be giving you funny looks. You don’t notice them at first, but eventually, you realize that you’re drawing a lot of attention to yourself. You’re not really sure why, though.  

More importantly, so much of this is new to you. Not only are there tons of people, but there are countless buildings, in all colors and sizes, as well as other strange things you’ve never seen before. The world outside appears to be vibrant and bright, already a massive improvement to the dingy lab you awoke in.  

You keep walking. Some people look like they want to call out to you, or at the very least, they’re thinking about it, but ultimately, they reconsider and let you carry on your way.  

Everyone disregards the fact that you’re a child all on your own and assumes that someone else will come to your rescue eventually. That’s the reasoning they use to spare themselves the hassle and wipe their hands of any responsibility.  

And then, someone does come to your rescue.  

“Hello there, little girl. Are you by yourself?”  

It’s a tall man with a warm, inviting smile. He fixes you in a tender gaze, and unlike everyone else, he takes the time to find out how you’re doing.  

You nod in agreement. “Yes. I’m alone.”  

For some reason, the man’s smile grows even wider. Unfortunately, you’re too naïve to realize why.  

“Well, that just won’t do,” he hums. “It’s not safe for a kid like you to be all alone on the streets. How about I help you out? I can get you something to eat too. You sound like you’re hungry.”  

Hungry? You’re not too familiar with the term, but perhaps he’s referring to how your stomach is grumbling without pause. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, one that you’d been trying to disregard up until now. But if this man says he can help with that, you’ll gladly take him up on his offer.  

“I think I am hungry,” you concede. “I want to try eating something.”  

“Of course,” he grins. “Just follow me.”  

So, you do. It doesn’t occur to you that perhaps you shouldn’t trust people so blindly, especially given the experience you’ve already had with Dr. Garaki. But as you will soon discover, the outside world is plenty dangerous too, and your total ignorance makes you all the more vulnerable to it.  

The man reaches over to grab your hand in his, and he seems tickled pink by the fact that you don’t try to refuse.  

For a while, the two of you walk like that, hand-in-hand. You keep looking around the whole time, trying to make sense of your surroundings, and eventually, you see something that makes your eyes widen.  

“There,” you say, pointing towards a building. You can see through its glass windows, and the people inside are all sitting at tables and shoveling various things into their mouth. They’re... eating, right? They must be. Your brain instinctively makes the connection, and right on cue, your stomach starts grumbling even more.  

“What is it?” the man frowns.  

“They’re eating food,” you say. “In there. Can we go in to eat too? I’m hungry.”  

“Ah. I actually don’t have a lot of money on hand,” he sighs. “But I’ve got a nice meal waiting for us back home. I can get you more comfortable clothes to change into as well. Don’t worry. It’ll be way better than sitting in a cramped diner.”  

You tilt your head to the side, confused. “But they’re all eating, and I want to eat too. I don’t feel like waiting any longer. I want to go there.”  

“Like I said, I don’t have money,” he explains.  

“Money?”  

Yet another term you’ve never heard before. There’s a lot that you don’t understand, that you still need to learn. Of course, the man can’t possibly know that, so he must assume you’re just playing dumb. 

“Everyone else is eating, so why can’t we do it too?” you ask.  

He clicks his tongue, and his smile drops for the very first time. “Don’t be difficult,” he grimaces. You notice that his grip on your hand has become tighter. “I promise I’ll give you some food at home, so please just listen to me, okay?”  

Despite his insistence, you stubbornly root your feet into the ground. There’s food right on the other side of that window, and you’re not going anywhere until you’ve tried some for yourself.  

“I want to go in there,” you say again. “I’m not leaving.”  

It seems like that’s really not what the man wanted to hear, because all of a sudden, anger flashes through his eyes, and he pulls you forcefully, making you stumble forward in bewilderment.  

Then, he throws you over his shoulder.  

“I played nice and gave you a chance,” he glares. “All you had to do was not act out like a little brat.”  

He’s running now, still gripping you tight and refusing to let go. All you can do is gape, watching as the diner fades further and further into the distance. You lament the loss of your food, which now appears to be hopelessly out of reach. The hunger is getting worse by the second, too. It feels like your stomach is about to implode.  

You know what you have to do. You need to fight this guy off and break free of him. But much to your dismay, you can’t muster up the strength, no matter how hard you try. That feeling from before, when you channeled all that energy... it’s gone. And you’re not quite sure how to bring it back.  

“I want food,” you groan, feeling weaker by the second. The man pays you no mind, of course. He keeps running as fast as his feet will carry him. You wonder where he’s taking you. Wherever it is, you doubt it’s anywhere good. It seems like Dr. Garaki isn’t the only crazy bastard in this world.  

So, you escaped. Only to be captured by yet another maniac. 

And to think that this is only your first day of living.  

“It’s going to be okay,” the man reassures, laughing in a shaky, deranged manner. “You’ll see. The two of us... we’ll be happy together. I’ll take care of you and give you everything you want.”  

“...is that so? And here I was, thinking that you’d kidnapped the poor girl.”  

Another man’s voice. It’s deep, but soft, and it catches you completely by surprise, since you were convinced that no one else was anywhere near you.  

The man who kidnapped you cries out, but it’s too late. Something tough and sturdy wraps around his body and immobilizes him, and in the next moment, your feet are resting comfortably on the ground, right where they ought to be.  

You look up at your savior, who has pale skin, long disheveled black hair, and a lethargic yet stern expression.  

His name is Aizawa Shouta, and he will change the course of your life forever.  

“I’ll never understand what goes through the minds of sickos like you,” Aizawa mutters. 

“I-I wasn’t doing anything wrong!” the other man frantically protests. He’s bound by some weird kind of cloth, and it’s safe to say that he isn’t going anywhere. “We were just enjoying a nice day out, and she was getting a bit rowdy, that’s all. I was bringing her home so that she could calm down! Isn’t that right?” 

He looks over at you expectantly, perhaps hoping that you’ll help him get out of this sticky situation. 

But just because you’re more ignorant than the average person doesn’t mean you’re stupid.  

It's obvious that he’s a bad guy, just like Dr. Garaki.  

“I only met you a few minutes ago,” you say. “And you promised me food but got angry when I wanted to go inside one of the buildings. You grabbed me and forced me to go with you, even though I didn’t want to.”  

Aizawa narrows his eyes, and the man chuckles nervously in response. “Sh-She’s always such a joker. Come on, don’t be that way. You’re going to get your old man in trouble.”  

“Nice try,” Aizawa comments insincerely. “But I’m afraid there’s only one place for creeps like you.”  

The man wails out in protest yet again, but all his pleas fall on deaf ears. It looks like he’s in a lot of trouble. You’re not sure where he’s being sent to, but it probably isn’t someplace nice.  

Aizawa grips onto the cloths tightly, but finally spares you a proper glance. “More importantly, are you okay, kid? That must’ve given you a fright. Everything’s fine now. You’re safe.”  

You frown. Can you really trust him? It’s only been a few hours since you’ve awoken, but so far, your experience with people has been disappointing to say the least. You’re starting to realize that you have to be more on guard. There’s no telling what someone will do next.  

“Who are you?” you ask. “What if you try to hurt me, too?”  

Aizawa smiles sympathetically. “Yes, I understand why you might feel that way. But I promise I’m different from this dirtbag. I’m a hero. Protecting people is what I do. That much, I can promise you.”  

A hero. For some reason, the word evokes a strong feeling.  

Kill heroes. Kill heroes. Kill heroes.  

You wince. That voice in the back of your head is acting up again, making you feel all jumbled up and icky inside. It’s the same voice that was commanding you to obey Dr. Garaki. The voice that you instinctively know you can’t trust.  

But much like before, you manage to fight against it. You shove it to the back of your mind and disregard what it has to say.  

The man in front of you says he’s a hero, and apparently, heroes are supposed to help people. It’s possible that he’s lying. It’s possible that you’re being set up for disappointment again.  

But you decide to give him a chance. 

“I’m Aizawa,” he introduces.  

“I’m [Name],” you say. Even if Dr. Garaki was the one to give you this name, it’s yours now, and you are determined to cherish it. 

Aizawa nods, offers you a small smile, then reaches out to you.  

You take his hand. 

prologue | story masterlist | next

More chapters are available on Quotev or Wattpad!

⊱.⋅follow + post notifications on for story update announcements or join the author's discord!⋅.⊰

💎 main masterlist ♡ oneshot masterlist

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 78: Oliver's Awakening

Previous > Masterlist

tw: aftermath of mind control, discussion of abuse

October 1925

Oliver writhed on the ground, his chest as tight as a drum and tears squeezing from his eyes, as all the fear and pain and shame that had been suppressed the past few months flooded him.

He'd been content, so content to give up his own life to become the servant of a vampire, hardly even struggling as he was taken and confined and ensorcelled. He'd enjoyed the vile feedings, looking forward to the vampire drinking away his blood, pleased to slump over in the vampire's arms as his life was drained, satisfied with the twin scars on his neck. He'd cheerfully allowed the vampire to pass him around like a party favor to his lover, to curl up around him as he slept, to dress him up in ball gowns and take him to vampire dens to show off…

But truly, it wasn't the shame that hurt the most -- that was just the easiest of his emotions to understand. No, the worst of it was the profound sense of emptiness. It was if Alexander's music had filled something within him he hadn't known was empty. It had given him a purpose, even if it was to follow the selfish whims of a monster, and now he was devoid. Knowing intellectually that it had never been a real purpose, just enslavement, didn't ease the sting of his heart.

Vivian crouched down and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Oliver, I know it's a lot to process. It might take days or weeks --"

"You don't know!" Oliver wrenched backwards to get away from her, furious. "You don't know what you just took. You can't!"

"I know it must hurt --"

"If you knew it would hurt like this, then why did you do it against my wishes?" Oliver demanded.

"Oliver!" Emily was standing nearby. "She was just trying to help. It's not fair to yell at her like that."

"It's not fair that I feel like this!"

"Leave him alone," said Vivian. "Let him scream at me if he wants. He's coming out of a much deeper enthrallment than you were in, Emily. It won't be easy."

"That's not true," she said indignantly. "I could barely talk, couldn't remember my past, wasn't even literate any more."

"Yes, and that's relatively easy for a vampire to do. What's been done to Oliver is far more precise and insidious, to keep him so intact on the surface while bending his desires and loyalties completely."

"Do you mind talking about me as though I'm not even here?" Oliver hated how angry he was, how he couldn't control the harshness of his voice. He was never angry, never so much as raised his voice at a difficult customer, not before he was captured. Even then, his anger had been weak, easily plucked out of his head by that damned Miss Lily. He felt sick to think of himself drowsing in her company, letting her rummage through his very mind, throw out anything she didn't like, and replacing his truth with a pretty painted facade.

"I'm sorry," said Vivian. "I know you're upset with me, but this is important. Can you still feel the connection with your former master?"

"No. It's been severed. I can't hear him anymore."

"That's good. With a vampire that powerful, it's likely that your connection is actually only weakened, not entirely destroyed. He may try to enter your head again, draw you under his sway."

Oliver nodded, ashamed that a part of him hoped he would, that Alexander's music would dull the pain. No, he would have to resist somehow. He couldn't go through all of this heartache for no reason, to go merrily skipping back into the arms of a vampire. Vivian's magic had stripped away the illusion, revealed the monster behind the handsome face.

"I'll try to resist," said Oliver shakily.

"Good, that's good. If you hear his voice, you need to tell me immediately, all right? I can help protect you, or wash out his influence again if we need to," she said. "It's my fault for not killing him when I had the chance. I was a coward. And now I'll have to plan to go after him again, before he hunts me down."

"Don't kill him!" Oliver's fervor surprised even him.

"Oliver, you'll never be safe until I do."

"I know that, but -- I don't want him to die. Maybe I should want him to die, maybe I'm still under his spell, but I can't bring myself to want him to die," he said, not understanding why he felt so strongly about this when he knew Alexander's true nature.

"He took you from your bookshop, remember?" said Emily. "The whole time we were in those cages -- at least, before Lily warped our minds -- that's all you could talk about, was your bookshop and how you had to return there. Don't you want to?"

His bookshop, and the tiny apartment above. His little safe haven, where he'd spent his entire life. The antique books locked behind the counter, the sagging shelves of the history section, the ratty armchair with the throw blankets that might still be waiting for him.

"I can't go back there," he said. "Alexander was one of my customers. He'd find me easily."

"That's why I have to kill him," said Vivian.

Mounting horror dawned on Oliver. "But even if you did kill him, it wouldn't do any good, because his sire would find out and hunt us both down. I'm sure of it."

"His sire? A vampire that powerful, and he's still beholden to his sire?"

"He's a terrifying vampire." The fear, which had been acute before, was now so much more sharp without Alexander's soothing influence. He could remember the feel of harsh fangs in his neck all too well, the panic of being unable to open his eyes. "Far more terrifying than Alexander could ever be. Alexander once told me that if we ever tried to escape him, he'd hunt us both down and make sport of it, and I believe him."

"It can't be…" Vivian muttered. "Tell me more about him, your former master's sire."

As much as Oliver didn't care to recall those memories, Vivian might actually be able to help. "I'll tell you whatever information I have. I'd be happy to see him die, and Alexander would, too. I don't know his real name, but they all call him the Maestro --"

"You've met him?" She gripped his shoulders like a madwoman. "You've actually met the Maestro?"

"Unfortunately, yes. You've heard of him?"

"He took my mother. He's the vampire I need to kill more than any other. You must tell me everything you know about him."

"I'm sorry about your mother," he said. "I can tell you everything I've learned about him, if you agree that you won't kill Alexander."

"Even if I were convinced you truly meant that and it wasn't just residual conditioning, I couldn't agree to that. Alexander is likely to come after me for taking you, and if he does, I need to be able to defend myself."

"I suppose that's true," said Oliver reluctantly. He didn't want to admit to himself that it would be ideal if Vivian were to kill the Maestro but spare Alexander, so that he would have the option of returning to the vampire without the threat of his sire hanging over their heads.

No, he must still be under the spell. He shouldn't return to Alexander under any circumstances, not if he wanted to keep a free thought in his head.

"You need to tell me," Vivian insisted. "Revenge on the Maestro is one of the main reasons I became a hunter in the first place. It wasn't just my mother who suffered. He's killed at least twenty hunters, and he's believed to have kidnapped a number of musicians and stage performers. He needs to be stopped."

"He does." Oliver sighed, feeling that tiny bit of leverage slip. "All right. I'll tell you what I know."

He tried to recall everything he could for Vivian's sake -- everything Lex had told him, and especially recounting his own experiences with the cruel vampire. Emily sat nearby, her eyes going wide with horror as Oliver described his blinding and the painful feeding. Vivian, on the other hand, was absorbing all of Oliver's words carefully.

"So when he controlled you -- was there any sort of induction he had to perform? Any conditions he had to meet?"

"I don't think so, or at least I don't remember any. Alexander didn't mention any either. He was able to puppet my body as easily as if I were a toy, and there didn't seem to be any way to resist it."

"Hm. That's going to be trouble," said Vivian, deep in thought. "And when he stopped you from opening your eyes again -- how long did it take for that enthrallment to wear off?"

"It didn't. The next day, Alexander took me to Miss -- to another vampire's home, one that specializes in hypnotizing humans, and she reversed the Maestro's command."

"A specialist in hypnotizing humans? Lily?"

"You know her too?"

"Yes, I'm aware of her."

"Are you going to kill her, too?"

"I really should, considering how many people's minds she's destroyed -- or are you going to defend her as well?"

"…No." Truthfully, he felt more conflicted about it than he should, given that Vivian was objectively correct. How many human minds had she stolen? How many lives had she cut short, selling innocent people off to vampires with nothing more than glee about her profits? She was the one who had twisted his mind, and all those feelings of comfort and warmth as he slept in her chair were nothing more than lies to keep him docile.

"So do have any idea where the Maestro lives?"

"No, I'm sorry. Those are the only two times I encountered him, and Alexander never mentioned where he lives, from what I can recall."

Vivian sighed. "It's a pity. But even so, you've given me far more information than I had yesterday, and I'm grateful for it."

"You know… both you and Alexander want the Maestro dead. Could you ever consider working together?" asked Oliver.

"Working with a vampire?"

"Only this one specific time, only to kill an even worse vampire!"

"I can't do that," said Vivian. "Even if we do have the same goal. Fighting a vampire as formidable as the Maestro would leave me vulnerable, and I can't trust that this Alexander wouldn't simply enthrall me afterwards. In fact, he'd be stupid not to, lest I kill him."

Oliver wanted to protest that Alexander wouldn't do that… except that Alexander might actually do that. After all, he had no qualms at all about buying a human at auction, even a human he previously knew as an equal. Why would he hesitate to enthrall a hunter?

"Come on," said Vivian, helping him off the floor. "We can talk more about this later. You've been through a lot tonight, and need more time to shake off the spell you've been under. We have a room that you can use, but I'm going to have to lock you in, and keep you under surveillance for now, at least until we're sure that your vampire isn't going to try and push himself into your head again."

"Fine," he said, accepting that Vivian didn't trust him. He didn't even trust himself. "Why can he still do that, if you've undone the enthrallment?"

"There's a psychic connection established when a vampire drinks your blood. It's not quite the same thing as enthrallment, and it can be very strong. It fades in days or weeks, but until then, you'll still be vulnerable to the vampire's influence."

"I see." He wondered if that applied to any vampire which had fed from him. If it did, that meant -- "But the Maestro, he…"

"Yes," she said grimly. "Has he ever entered your mind before, when he's not there in person?"

"I don't think so. I hope not."

"I hope not either. I'm not prepared to fight him just yet. If you sense anything, you need to tell me right away."

"Yes, of course."

Vivian led Oliver out of the attic and into a room little bigger than a closet, with a cot and a small chest of drawers. "You should get some rest," she said, herding Oliver inside. "You'll feel better once you have. Is there anything you need?"

"A glass of water, please?" asked Oliver, sitting on the edge of the cot. "And if you have any interesting books…"

"Certainly. I'll see what I can do."

Oliver waited patiently for Vivian to return with the water and a couple of old magazines. As soon as she left the room and he heard the lock click shut, he fell back onto the bed, knowing that he wouldn't even be able to concentrate on reading, not with all the thoughts crowding his head.

He was free.

Wasn't he?

It was terribly hard to feel free when he was locked into a small room, the threat of his vampiric master and his sire still hanging over his head like an executioner's axe. The confinement was for his own safety, and he understood the reasons, but he wouldn't actually be free until both Alexander and the Maestro had ceased to walk the earth.

He was frustrated with himself. He shouldn't care so much about the well-being of a vampire who had literally purchased him at auction. And yet…

Now that the initial shock and fear had worn off, he was finding himself gripped by a deep and profound sadness. The cot he lay on was hard and cold, and he couldn't suppress his longing for his bed at home -- no, Alexander's bed. It wasn't ever his. He'd been hypnotized to share it, to cuddle up with a monster.

He'd been hypnotized into affection.

And it was really the only affection he'd had since he was a child, wasn't it? He'd lived such a solitary and quiet life, spending almost every night alone in his small apartment with books for company. Even the simple pleasure of curling up to read next to someone else had been foreign to him until he came into Alexander's possession.

And it had all been a fabrication meant to keep him compliant, hadn't it? He shouldn't miss it. He should be glad to be rid of it.

But the thought of returning to his solitary life, of never experiencing actual tenderness, was crushing him inside. He'd been starving for so many years, but it had been bearable when he didn't know what he was missing. Now that he knew that his choice was between actual loneliness and false companionship, he could only be ashamed at the parts of himself which preferred the lie.

No, he had to press on somehow. He couldn't return himself to a monster, no matter how charming. He should be happy to be freed. He could have his own life back. He could sleep during the night and wake during the day, and walk in the sunshine, and choose to go wherever he pleased.

He could take what little money he had stashed in his bookshop and take a train out of town, or a boat overseas, see the new places that he dreamed about but never got around to visiting. He could start his life over, do something else with it. Live a fuller life in the here and now rather than wait in his lonely little bookshop, wait for something to happen to him. Something had happened to him, and it should have taught him a lesson about choosing what he wants before it's chosen for him.

It was exhilarating. But…

For all his newly gained freedom, he still had no idea what he actually wanted. The desire for fangs in his neck was fake, but at least it was a clear desire. What did he want before, apart from books and safety? And who was he now, now that he knew the dangerous world of the supernatural lurked just behind every streetlamp, just waiting to pull him into it?

Previous > Masterlist

Next week: Oliver is not as free as he might have hoped.

I'll also have a Christmas-adjacent self-indulgent vampire story up tomorrow, so please keep an eye out! And vote in the holiday edition of Sedation Vending Machine!

Thanks for reading this story another year, and happy holidays!

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin

@whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist

@vampiresprite @irregular-book @whumpsoda @und3ad-mutt

@sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada

@typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia

@a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@enigmawriteswhump @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot

@cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme

@strawbearydreams @ghost-whump @tippytappytyping @natthebatt @fire-bugg14

@fuckcapitalismasshole @slightlydisturbedbeans @paperprinxe @demetercabingreen-thumb @the-broken-pen

@pokemaniacgemini @jumpywhumpywriter @basica11ywhumped @anoontjecanush @cepheusgalaxy

@whump-me-harder @whump-till-ya-jump @the-monarch-whumperfly @ium1naryy @wumpbean

[hotvintagepoll]

Jimmy Stewart and Jean Arthur (You Can't Take It With You, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington)—These two have easy natural chemistry, and they're great to watch together because James Stewart is a nine foot tall drawling lanky man and Jean Arthur is a smallish woman with a hoarse little voice and yet! they work. Stewart is a dynamic presence on screen but she more than holds her own in their scenes and watching them play off eachother is a delight! 10/10 would watch gaze at one another with dreamy eyes.

Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing (The Curse of Frankenstein, The Horror of Dracula)—Obviously never canon romantic but the definition of toxic old man yaoi. Whether it's the look on Lee's face as Dracula about to bite Van Helsing in "Horror Of Dracula" (1958) or Cushing destroying his life and engagement to create Lee's monster in "Curse Of Frankenstein" (1957). Such a popular team that the "Dracula" sequel lifted their final fight from the original and used it as a prologue even though Cushing isn't in the rest of the film.

This is round 1 of a mini Christmas tournament. Each poll lasts for three days. If you'd like to send additional propaganda supporting your favorite hot couple, you can reblog this post with your propaganda added, send it to my asks, or tag me in it. To vote in all the polls, click here. Happy holidays!

[additional sexy propaganda under the cut]

Jimmy and Jean:

Peter Cushing and Christoher Lee:

Not exactly propaganda but I received this ask after Cushing and Lee's submission:

oh, I completely missed the qualifiers for the couples poll! Nevemind. Unless we count characters attempting to murder one another in multiple movies as peak couple behavior, Cushing and Lee tragically don’t qualify.

Fortunately for you, in this case I'll absolutely count that as romantic.

[thewistlingbadger]

Adding onto this. Silco is probably THE definition of "it's not always about the money spiderman." I hate the take that he's only doing things for his own self interest because it so violently goes against what we're told about him. If Silco was truly in it for the personal power, money, influence, etc, he could and WOULD have stopped a long time ago. If it's just about ego then he doesn't need Zaun to become independent. If he only cared about zaun independence for his own glory and not for his own people then he'd be no better than the chem barons, and we see how Silco views them as parasites who are beneath Silco. Silco loves Zaun for what it is, which is why his vision of a better Zaun is not a Zaun with peace, it's a Zaun with freedom. Silco sees nothing wrong with the under city's chaos and violence, which is why he perpetuates both and doesn't try to stop either. This contrasts Vi, who as a child viewed Zaun as being inferior to Piltover. This contrasts Ekko, who actively tries to improve upon the Undercity. Silco is devoted to his nation not in spite of its flaws but because of its flaws. To him, it's perfect as is, the only problem is that they're oppressed. Silco already views Zaun and Piltover as equals even though they don't have equal power or influence or ability. To him, Zaun is just as good and potentially better than Piltover. All they need is a chance to excel, the opportunity to rise above the hardships that they wouldn't have if not for Piltover. Silco's okay with putting down and harming individual zaunites if it means the collective group will be better off. It's why he sees no problem with shimmer, because even though it's actively destroying the community, it's boosting their economy and furthering themselves from Piltover.

Silco's hatred for topside really can't be understated. It's important to remember that his generation grew up in a much worse zaun. Of course he's willing to use any means necessary to be free from those assholes, especially after all he's sacrificed and the sacrifices of others he's witnessed. Silco seems to really admire his generation for all the shit they had to put up with. He tells Finn before zaun became an enterprise all they had was the loyalty of zaunite brothers and sisters helping each other. "And now I'm forced to share the air with parasites like you who leech off their memory." Personally, in light of season 2, this line makes extra sense because of Felicia. Felicia was one of Silco's closest friends and she laid down her life fighting for the cause ("so you'll die for a cause, but you won't fight for one?!" Now this line makes more sense too), she's the perfect example of a true Zaunite. Silco also used the gray against the chem barons to not only highlight his superiority to them but also to once again differentiate between his generation and the newer generation.

"Oh, you don't recognize it? Have you forgotten where we came from? The mines they had us in? Air so thick it clogged your throat, stuck in your eyes? I pulled you all from the depths and offered you a taste of topside and fresh air. I gave you life. Purpose. But now you've grown fat and complacent. Too much time in the sun. We came from a world where there was never enough to go around, Finn. That is why we fight."

Yes silco does have his own ego and he is doing things for his own selfish interests but he's not doing things ONLY for himself. His own selfishness is truly not his priority, it's the nation of zaun. "I'm doing this for us, Jinx. For the sons and daughters of Zaun."

I don't see Silco as someone who "lost his way" bc there's no evidence to suggest that this wasn't always his way. We know that he wasn't once always this fucked up and evil but from my perspective he's always been the radicalist. He's always been the one behind the Nation of Zaun, the one that's always been willing to do anything to get his goal. Not even the death of Felicia stopped him or even gave him any pause from pursuing his goal. And of course it didn't, Felicia is the one that told him "I don't care if you have to carve it out of the bedrock covered in blisters." Additionally, silco does just see himself as better than the chem barons, he sees himself as better than most zaunites too. Silco has literally gone through hell and back and is now the most powerful man in the undercity. If he can do that, then what's other people's excuse? Of course he's toying with the drug addicts, to him they're the weakest link in the zaunite societal chain. He's literally standing above them as they're at his feet. The fact that some of these drug addicts where Vander supporters also plays into I think (we know at least Huck had a past with Vander). Another reason why I think he sees himself as superior is because he's basically the only person actively trying to get independence. When Vander was their leader, all he cared about was maintaining the status quo. We know some maybe most of Silco's supporters initially joined him because of his promises of Independence and rebellion but we see after the time skip most of them become washed up and no longer care for the goal. The Firelights also don't seem to care about zaun independence either. They're anti silco and anti Piltover and their main goal is rehabilitating the community.

When Silco died, so did the nation of zaun- that idea, that ideology. NO ONE tries to achieve independence after his death. The zaunites start to rally against piltover because of the new oppressive conditions they're being subjected to, not because they're trying to achieve independence. The Firelights I've been trying to get rid of him since day one and what do they do when he's actually gone? Nothing, they don't make a single play for power in the Undercity. The fact that sevika ends up becoming a council member implies that Zaun is still a state under piltover and not its own nation.

Oh yeah I forgot that there's this opinion that Silco "was blindsided by power and wealth" and "lost his way" and "he only did what he did to benefit himself all along" etc etc. Uh. Where- where did you get that from? I'm not even being sarcastic or something, I'm genuinely curious how you can come to this conclusion.

He operates from a crappy office in The Last Drop and the only attributes of wealth he has are cigars and whiskey(?). My man had one pair of pants for 10+ years and only got a fancy coat to look more intimidating. Besides, when chembarons proposed to give back the gemstone to Piltover so their sales don't drop even harder Silco refused. Also he was ready to give up his power when Jayce made imprisoning Jinx a requirement for Zaun to gain independence. Sure, he IS motivated to keep his daughter safe, but it would also mean that his goal will finally be achieved, so there's nothing left for him to do. Both wealth and power are only means to achieve a goal to him. He also doesn't really display that he gets the kick out of it, unlike councilors in Piltover.

"Well yes he wants Zaun to be independent, but only as he personally sees it" when did he EVER say that??😭😭😭😭 Every time he speaks on the topic he only mentions how he wants Zaunites to have opportunities, respect, "more than (Piltover's) runoff". Like- that's literally everything he ever said about this. All that matters to him is independence, he couldn't care less about everything else.

As to "losing his way"...idk I think this can only be attributed to pre-drowning Silco. Because after it he pretty much decided to stick to what he now believed in forever, and at no point except the finale he went south from his beliefs.

Silco isn't "misguided" or "corrupt" or any other similar definition. He's a character who chose to become a monster to bring change to his people. And as s2 didn't do anything about resolving this conflict, he was never really proven wrong.

[thesquid06]

I love the idea of Biana Vacker being a bad match and what it could mean for the Vacker family.

Of course her parents would still love her and respect her decision. However they would encourage her to still apply for matchmaking and receive her first packet, just in case. Even if Biana’s partner’s name isn’t on the packet they would still encourage her to hold her first winnowing gala, just in case.

I imagine them helping her pick out a gorgeous purple dress, with long lacy sleeves and an elegant neck piece. Most excitingly, it’s surrounded by the brightest purple gems. She almost loves it, until she notices that all of her scars are covered. All the dresses her mom recommended had long sleeves.

In a fit of rage she cuts the sleeves and collar from the dress. It’s a terrible job and makes something beautiful hideous. Just like the glass did to her.

She has to fix it herself. She takes a few other dresses from her closet and cuts them apart too. It takes all night but eventually she makes it gorgeous again. It’s a patchwork of all her favorite clothing. It’s sleeveless and displays all her scars. It feels a bit like taking control of the situation.

It’s also the first dress she’s ever made by herself.

She goes to the gala and dances with all the eligible individuals, making nice conversation and being the perfect Vacker child. Obviously, she doesn’t meet the love of her life. She already knows them.

She’ll tell her parents after. They understand.

Fitz yelled at her the first time she told him. They got in a huge fight about it. It’s the first time Biana truly understands that he faces more pressure being a Vacker than she does. He is the golden child, he will always be the golden child.

They both cry after the fight. Biana because she feels alone. Fitz because he once faced the same decision as Biana and chose his legacy. He really loved Sophie. He cries, pretending there is a universe where he was as strong as his sister.

He’ll find her the next day and apologize. He’s proud of Biana. He’ll do everything he can to support her.

Biana will become known as the sibling who destroyed the Vacker legacy. Even though Alvar was the one who committed atrocities. He might have started the destruction of their name but she finished it.

She becomes the change Alvar wishes he was. She often reflects on their similarities, wondering at what point does the love in her heart turns into hate.

It was probably a Vacker that started the matchmaking system, only fitting that a Vacker ends it.

[lunarriviera]

under the skin meta: The Monologue™ (part 1)

[spoilers for s2 in general and ep 20 in specific—which, trust me, you really don't want to watch out of order. it's worth waiting for this one.]

if you’ve seen The Monologue, you understand. this is why tan jianci fans are somewhere on a spectrum from chronically bitter to unendingly distraught about never not yet getting to see him play gu yun in sha po lang/winner is king. if uts were a north american prestige drama, tjc would have just handily won an emmy. as it is he’ll probably just be in a bunch of romcoms and do more goofy stuff on hi6, and that’s fine too. i guess we’ll always have “wet the bed.”

where was i oh right The Monologue. this will be long but it’s possibly the most glorious moment in this entire drama so here we go.

to build up to it, tho, we need backstory: namely, season two's gradual unraveling of shen yi. we know he can’t sleep well and has ghastly nightmares about a little girl he didn’t save, mostly because he didn’t consciously know she was in any danger. in her red dress, like the little girl in schindler’s list, she stands out, tragic amidst the desaturation, and shen yi makes a variety of horrified faces about having failed her. (horrified faces seem to be his main ones this season, which is partly what makes The Monologue so exciting.)

anyway shen yi has already been pretty thoroughly harrowed by this particular case as it is, having been the one to figure out (of course) the serial murderer’s ritualistic pattern and motive. shen yi turns his most Horrified Face to du cheng to warn him that the next victim's in danger, and they have this exchange, which will be important later.

(what du cheng says is 别担心, which also gets translated as "rest assured"—like, don't let your heart be uneasy. i got this.)

so du cheng takes off to save the victim, and shen yi goes back to his office to do…actually, what does he think he’s going to do? some paperwork, a little light filing, maybe sharpen some pencils? instead he predictably goes into a glass-shattering fugue state, and imagines the little girl. this begins the monologue scene, even though it all takes place in shen yi’s head. pls indulge me by watching it again, bc i assume you’ve already seen it anyway, and my god it’s such a gorgeous piece of face journey that ALSO sets up what’s to follow.

in some ways this compressed little piece is even better than what comes after. the way he FLIES to her and FALLS to his knees, just rushes up to her stammering and devastated and PROMISING he'll save her this time. honestly it destroyed me, i watched it like 5 times in a row before i could even move on. the unheld-back generosity of this brief performance, the way he’s completely focused on her and then just FALLS APART, it snapped my heart like a carrot stick.

me, a fangirl: SHEN YI SHEN YI NO BB NO PLS SOMEONE HELP HIM me, film nerd: huh fascinating never seen an actor's lips shake before

so now he understands what he needs to do. what he MUST do. having had this revelation, shen yi shows up at the killer’s door, creepy-smiling at him and barging inside. and then he delivers The Monologue, ten solid nearly-uncut minutes of sheer batshit insanity.

shen yi rants. he raves. he paces and pivots and gestures, he thinks aloud, he surmises and expostulates and revises and reverses and exclaims and delivers each conclusion with rabid glee. he scowls and shouts and is sinister and grins and is just one thousand fucking percent unhinged.

we have never, ever seen shen yi like this before, and thank god, because he would scare people on the regular, and he’s scary enough as it is. why do you think he wears all those baggy pastels and smiles so sweetly. why do you think he tries to pass as an unassuming twink, it’s because if people knew what was really going on inside his head half the time, they’d be screaming crying passing out. (tho the beauty of shen yi is: he also really is just an unassuming twink.)

anyway there i was, like a bonehead, stupidly trying to screenrecord this scene before i realized it would be like fifty gig of fire emoji, and then my hands fell limply at my sides, bc it dawned on me what was actually happening. sort of like that moment in “free churro” when you realize bojack horseman really is going to keep giving this heartbreaking eulogy for the length of the entire episode.

because The Monologue is virtuoso. it's tour de force. this is the kind of thing they play at the oscars during your "in memoriam" clip reel. this is what undergrads copy for their audition pieces. this is some heath ledger shit. it's jack nicholson in the shining, al pacino in scarface. this is about one inch away from brando.

as a result of all this, shen yi has the serial killer (whose name is ge yutian by the way) eating out of his goddamn hand within like half a minute, absolutely spellbound—which is the entire point. if shen yi doesn’t convince him, all of this glorious sorcery is for nothing.

(the guy who plays ge yutian is good too, a perfect scene partner for this. he picks up every cue and lets tjc have all the room he needs.)

just a few more notes on the performance, both tjc's and shen yi's:

1. where it really goes off the rails is when shen yi shrieks, DAMN POLICE! and ge yutian JUMPS in alarm. this not only made me laugh (him being so bonkers that he actually frightens a serial murderer!) but is also the moment when The Monologue stops being "aw haha such a fun thing for an actor to get to do" and “…jesus christ what the fuck am i watching." look how i couldn't even get a non-potato screencap. it's from this point on that shen yi is possessed.

2. because he has to show that he identifies with ge yutian, that the killer can and should trust him because they think alike. but that’s just the old “FBI profiler eventually becomes his prey” cliché, so there’s more to it. he also has to convince ge yutian that his ideas, shen yi's, are ge yutian's ideas, from the inside out—and therefore he's the right candidate for the sheng role. and finally, that it's precisely his ability to act, to be a strong performer, that makes him the right choice. that it’s shen yi who’s most suitable, thanks to his convincing mimesis of ge yutian’s highly suspect “thought process."

3. to really pull this off, even as shen yi builds him up (cf. ge yutian clapping enthusiastically, enthralled by this flattering vision), he also has to tear him down. so he plays two roles at once: ge yutian and an unknown theatre critic—who’s also shen yi, because he’s still the righteous officer of the People’s Police, here to inform ge yutian that his vision is sick and twisted, and not anything his gentle-hearted lover would have wanted, not her way of being in the world.

4. finally i would argue that shen yi's admittedly shaky s2 state here suddenly seems a lot more bolted-on. a few viewers have worriedly described The Monologue almost as some kind of psychotic break but honestly i read it as so very controlled and so very deliberate. while he’s desperate (must save victim this time. must not fuck it up again.) he’s not deranged. he absolutely knows what he’s doing.

i'm sorry to say part 2 will follow. but to conclude for now:

• actors are witches. • 16:9 can no longer contain tjc’s talent this man needs 1.85:1 • you hardly ever get to see someone just NAIL IT TO THE WALL like this, what a time to be alive • (and these were long takes too. there wasn't that much editing. that was all him. and you can see three uncut minutes of it here) • pls watch under the skin for some unexpectedly fine acting as well as ofc crime drama, ensemble comedy, weird art historical facts, and captain du cheng (jin shijia), who alternates between being a giant goofball and an aloof occasionally scary badass. also they’re in love.

[shallowseeker]

via @monstermoviedean

Oh God, oh God, no one knows how important this is to me, and because it's Christmas, I can't stop myself venting again.

<cue the image of Raphael’s vessel>

DEAN: So is this what I'm looking at if Michael jumps in my bones?

CASTIEL: No, not at all. Michael is much more powerful. It'll be far worse for you.

DEAN looks away.

5x03

///

Instead, we find Dean, incredibly hungry and incredibly tired. Even though he apparently already already told Cas he was gonna crash, Dean delays his own rest, taking a moment to check on Rowena (aww!) and to try to refuel.

14x15

//

But before Dean can even eat or catch up with Cas, enter Sam:

So, Cas steps in to mentor Sam, hoping Dean can try his hand at connecting with Jack and get some much-needed sleep in the process (not to mention, getting to eat)!

14x15

///

Status of the team:

Cas has the Empty deal hanging over his head, and he’s scrambling to solve these unsolvable problems while also giving his loved one/partner time to rest. (And lordy geez, no wonder Cas tries to spare Dean… Even if it backfires spectacularly, it’s understandable given everything that he’s seeing Dean go through here).

Dean was head-injured and psychologically wounded from being The AU Michael vessel for so long. He likely feels directly responsible for both the Rowena and Jack injuries, as well as all the AU hunter deaths. (Note: Conjecture, but I think we see the first glimmer of emotional despair/crosstalk of blame aimed at Cas which is… fascinating. Sam of course misses it entirely, thinking Dean mostly made the decision to stay for Sam.)

Rowena was similarly psychologically wounded to Dean. She become the AU Michael vessel hoping that, although Michael would not honor his word, she could be strong enough to save the day, or at least hold him off for a bit. Then she failed spectacularly, watching her hands kill everyone she helped save from Apocalypse World.

Jack is perhaps the most severely wounded of all, sacrificing his soul in a move so painful that Cas and Dean can barely face it, lingering in the space of denial and forlorn hope. (Jack’s eating, so he must have a soul left, right? Donatello said he’s fine, so he’s fine, right?)

But Sam is spiraling so hard over his own losses, the above doesn’t even seem to occur to him. Sam has inflated responsibility, but it’s still so self-focused, I think?

Castiel: Maybe. *shoots Sam a knowing look after the case gets more complicated, and Sam yawns*

Sam: I'm good. I'm good, honestly.

Castiel: *dryly* Yeah, I know. Everybody's good. But after this, maybe Dean's right. *Then, chastising* You need to rest.

Sam: Can't.Just because I'm tired doesn't mean the monsters are gonna stop, you know? Doesn't mean anything. Plus we don't have as many Hunters as we used to.

In risking his own safety, Sam also risks the safety of those that love him. Cas is trying to mentor Sam, because Cas was crushed by the weight of his own authoritarian leadership, and like Sam, Cas too wanted to reject leadership, abdicate responsibility, and run away, fearful of “destroying everything again.”

///

However, even after snapping out of the need to run away, Sam only acknowledges his mistake in running Dean ragged and his own pain. I’m a little reminded of that moment in The End, where Sam calls Dean in a panic about his own destiny re: angel vessels, but doesn’t lead with empathy for Dean’s plight.

Sam: I hate this place right now. I hate it. Everywhere I look, I see them. I see Maggie.I guess that's why, uh -- why I was so desperate to get out of here, why I kept running us ragged. But I got to stop that. I-I can't keep running. I -- This is my home. This is our home. Dean, I think I just need some time.

Dean: *assessing, maybe a little disappointed* Okay.

Dean, seeing that Sam is very plugged into his own mistakes and emotional pain, but still isn’t considering the plight of the rest of the team, disengages.

Sam’s empathy for others is (404 Not Found)?

You ever just remember Dean kept an archangel trapped in his mind for months on nothing but sheer willpower?

[fizzie-frog]

Blitzø: core self, trauma and healing (part two)

This is a continuation of my previous post. Thanks to Tumblr limitations, I had to split it into different parts (trust me, I wish I could've made it just one big post).

PART ONE

This might be long...

He tried to waddle through the trauma of existing as someone as self-loathing as himself.

He denied;

“I didn’t do anything, it was an accident!”

He isolated;

He minimized, often with humour;

“Uh-oh, looks like it sucked all the fun outta you!”

He avoided being vulnerable;

“I DID CARE!”

And felt awkward/uncomfortable when he did end up spilling out his emotions;

“Weeeeeeeell, fuck you!”

Suppressed his emotions;

… Cause they’re blinding and suffocating, and it’s easier to avoid them.

He hated himself and didn’t believe there is anything good about him, despite having changed lives for the better;

And he dipped if he got too close (everything literally burnt down when he tried getting closer, didn’t it);

He often didn’t believe others would hold any endearment for him, even taking it as a joke;

“I destroy everything, everyo— I make everyone’s lives worse!”

And that’s it, really. He believes he’s a pest, a virus, something that can only do harm. While his core self still showed itself from time to time, he was blinded with the trauma of all his wrongdoings. All the people he’s hurt and that, in a self-fulfilling prophecy, made him hurt even more.

Everything he couldn’t look straight in the eye. The death of his mother, caused by him. The hurt of his friend, caused by him. The hurt he’s caused around himself. He couldn’t bear see it, knowing it would break him down. That’s why he avoided it. Thinking about what happened, what he did is suffocating. But that also blinded him from seeing his good deeds too. As usual, we’re more likely to see the negative over the positive.

Blitz picked himself up by the bootstraps as they say, but it didn’t help him, not within himself. So what did help?

I think it started in Oops…

He didn’t wanna be vulnerable, but after so much hurt and things left unsaid, it spilled. It all spilled out and made him into a crying mess right in front of Fizz, cause as much as he tried to act unbothered, he did care (as he said in the episode). He was vulnerable, he explained to Fizz exactly what happened instead of holding it in anymore, he apologized to Fizz. They both learnt what happened.

And the kicker? It paid off! Blitz was finally vulnerable to someone, his former best friend, and Fizz forgave him. He got his dear friend back for this. Not only did he win someone he loves back, but also this came as a punch to those unhealthy beliefs, cause he was vulnerable and it didn’t turn out bad.

We have Ghostfuckers.

After being plagued by his memories, Millie came to his aid. She not only reminded him of a time he actually changed her life for the better, but also confirmed that he indeed cares for Blitz.

Then the moment of truth…

Can’t get anymore raw than the moment when his death was imminent. It’s often in times like this that we people’s raw emotions.

In a moment when even Loona was tearing up at the thought of losing Blitz. When all his friends were already mourning him, crying for him as he was about to lose his life.

And in that moment, when he was sure he was gonna die, he could finally say it…

“I love you, guys”

There was nothing to be lost. He was gonna die and the last thing he knew was that his friends were crying for him, but were safe. He could die happy.

Of course though, he didn’t, as we know. Once he was outside the court room, he was pulled in a sobbing hug by his friends and daughter that were relieved he was okay. Even further proof of being loved. Despite the horrible circumstances, it must be so healing to his heart to have that.

True, unfiltered confirmation of being loved. He is loved. The possibility of someone you love dying shakes you. Loona realized it wasn’t worth pretending anymore - life is so short, especially for low class hellborns.

And probably so did Blitz. He was finally in a happy place. His daughter loved him, his friends loved him. Stolas loved him.

He is loved.

So in the Sinsmas episode, we started seeing so much more of who he once was.

He was goofy,

Attentive,

Listening,

Supportive,

Cheerful,

Encouraging,

Patient,

He looked at potential future,

He was selfless,

Protective,

Kind,

Even romantic.

And he was happy…

That’s not to say he’s completely healed. I think you can never truly heal from something like this, especially the magnitude of what Blitz went through in his life, and his issues can resurface.

But at this point in time, he’s finally in a happy place. He was affirmed, comforted and reassured. He’s content, and that’s the most healed he can be.

His core self is finally seeing the light of day. He is more himself than he’s ever been since that day.

So that was it. I’m sorry if I was a bit messy some places; as mentioned, life is kind of a struggle. Sometimes I feel like my brain is deteriorating or something, lmao, but I wanted to put this together cause I feel like Blitz has such a good, painfully relatable (to me anyway) arc and he’s such a complex character.

My love for Fizz remains the biggest, but I couldn’t deny the love I have for Blitz. He’s just such a good character with such good development. Selfish yet selfless, careful yet careless… So many dimensions.

If you made it this far, thank you! <3

[hooffuloftootsierolls]

In light of the reveal of Abel's complete design, have this dumb doodle i made on magma a week ago based on an interaction my bsf @plushtoothpanic acted out while we were joking about Vivziepop's lack of diversity(the dog character is his sona).

Also, rant below involving Abel, I don't want this to become a critical blog since Hazbin has held a special place in my heart since 2021, but oh my God I am so sick of the shit that Vivzie is pulling

Making Adam white was already quite a choice, I had a pretty specific vision of a dark-skinned curly-haired man before his face was revealed. Although I had been expecting a biblically-accurate Adam, I didn't mind having him white as long as Eve wasn't made white as well.

Abel's design throws this out the window.

First let's focus on Abel being the child of Adam and Eve. This means Eve is white, and likely also blonde. Historically, the first humans were East/South African, and not white. Ok, well what about biblically? The popular depictions of biblical figures are mainly European interpretations from when Europe adapted the Bible and made all the figures pale, like them. It's more likely that the dark-skinned writers that originally complied stories into the Bible meant for the figures to look more like them. It would make more sense if one or both of them was dark.

Saint Peter is a whole nother' piss drawer that I don't wanna open, but whitewashing an actual human being that existed is just so gross.

Now, the other thing I wanna talk about that talks less about race and more about theories surrounding Abel being blonde... People were already theorizing that maybe one of the kids was Lucifer's spawn because of the implied affair with Eve. It wasn't the most popular theory but now it's making a comeback with the reveal of Abel's complete design.

I dislike this theory(besides the fact that it's just stupid) because

1. Cain is Adam and Eve's firstborn son. Abel is their second. Even if Eve and Lucifer had an affair in Eden, that would result in Cain, not Abel. Also we aren't entirely aware of Lucifer's powers involving entering the living world but I doubt he can canonically go there, or at least not after Adam and Eve were expelled from the Garden, since Hell was made as a punishment for him and any mortal that sins and I don't think he would be able to waltz back to Earth that easily. I suppose maybe they could be twins and Cain could just have been the first one born, but I don't think that's usually what "firstborn" implies, or how it's generally interpreted?

2. This is gonna look really bad on Lucifer's part?? Like, this implies that Lilith left Adam for Lucifer, then Lucifer got with Eve(possibly cheating on Lilith if she wasn't aware/didn't consent to the affair) and cucked Adam for a second time???? Lucifer would straight-up be getting the Stolas treatment where they keep making him more and more shitty then try to justify it anyways. Cmon guys.. I wanna be able to cheer for Lucifer too but he doesn't seem remorseful at all for anything he's done, more like he's been playing the victim for a decamillennium despite being a possible cheater and the one who destroyed Adam and Eve's life.

3. How would this be plot-relevant at all?? My closest guess is to make a disconnect from Adam like "oh he was never my ACTUAL father anyways" and also to try and make a bond with Abel and Charlie being blood-related so he would decide to side with her or something. Also on top of that I hate the whole trope of someone suddenly not giving a fuck about the parents who raised them in favor of their biological parents who didn't raise them. It's a dumb trope and if this theory is canon and they pull something like that.... ughh.

yeah. Overall, too many Aryans, pleasepleasepleaseplease pleaseeep please don't make Eve white even though I know they will anyways, and if that stupid theory is true then Lucifer is a snake-tongued, home-wrecking, unfaithful pile of shit that is disguised as a poor depressed dad that the fandom eats up and woobifies. Not that I don't want him to have flaws, but he doesn't seem very sorry for what he did(he has his whole snake and apple motif, that's like saying you feel guilty for a murder then using the hyper-specific murder weapon as your symbol) and also Abel being his son would be such an unnecessary plotline that would make him look soooo so so so so much worse because he wouldn't have much of a wholesome excuse for that.

The only good things I'm getting out of this are that I can post about Abel without having to tag it as leaks and also people are cracking jokes about Abel being the son of Lucifer and Adam

[shhtickerbook]

Baby Feathers

Merry Christmas!

(Helluva Age regression ficlet that takes place post sinsmas)

I don’t see enough fics that have caregivers who want to try regressing!!! So I decided to fill that void and the soul destroying events of sinsmas gave me lots of agere fodder. have a lovely holiday everybody!!! Fic below!

Stolas had everything planned. It was new years Eve and both Stolas and Blitzø had the holiday just to themselves. Millie and Moxxie were spending the holiday with Millie’s family in Wrath, whilst Loona was going to another party at Beelzebub’s. Stolas had spent many a New Year’s Eve at insufferable galas, but there had always been one silver lining. Both himself and Via would slip away from the ball, where the two would sit on the roof of their mansion and watch the first new year’s moon come to rise. He still hadn’t realised that this would be the first year where they wouldn’t be able to share their tradition. He couldn’t stop thinking of Octavia, their last interaction cruelly playing on loop in his mind. His heart was breaking with every second, but at least he had Blitzø. If he hadn’t been grieving so painfully, maybe he’d be able to enjoy himself.

There was one aspect he found great comfort in though, and that was being able to take care of Blitzø. Over the past few months he’d been introduced to the Imp’s smaller side, which had taken a while for Blitzø to open up about it properly. He was a pretty headstrong character, and struggled s lot when it came to expressing any kind of vulnerability.

Stolas had actually found out by accident, with Blitzø regressing involuntarily after a bad night terror. Stolas’s heart had broke when he found his partner looking so afraid and vulnerable. Blitzø wasn’t able to really explain what was happening, but Stolas was already a parent, it was second nature to know how to comfort little ones after a bad dream. The next morning Blitzø had explained what happened, sometimes he found himself slipping younger in age, usually when he was stressed or was reminded of bad things. Especially since he lost his mother, she was the only person who treat him with gentle nurturing care. When he lost her, he never got to feel that again. So when he began to have these episodes, it became a part of himself he had to hide out of shame.

For a long time he continued to suppress this side of himself, pushing away all these childish longings. But he could only hold it back for so long until his body decided for him. When he did find out, Stolas was almost too supportive of it, finding this side of Blitzø absolutely darling. Lavishing him with toys, clothes and all kinds of things he never even considered trying. Stolas even found himself getting a lot out of caring for him too, it made him feel needed.

-

Blitzø had to admit that it felt great to not hide this side of him anymore. Stolas had officially seen every episode of that pony show, and helped Blitzø brush the manes of every single horse figurine he owned. But ever since the trial, neither Blitzø or Stolas had the time or the mental energy to take come time to relax.

Stolas had felt so guilty that in his current state he hadn’t been able to care for Blitzø, and had even collected a set of gifts for him to open from Sinsmas. On the day itself he’d set aside his little gifts so that he wouldn’t have to open them in front of the others. So he’d made the decision to surprise him with a “little sinsmas” on new years, when they knew they’d have the house all to themselves.

Stolas woke up early to get out the gifts he had stored away. Thankfully he had purchased these before he’d lost all of his money and possessions. But when he did get up, he felt awful. The former prince had slept terribly, tossing and turning as he once again replayed what had happened with Via. He was then cursed with unpleasant dreams that only tortured him further. All he wanted was his daughter, but she wanted nothing to do with him.

Regardless of how he felt, he pushed himself through it, today was for Blitzø. The imp had done so much for him recently, he had to pay it back somehow. He quietly looked through Blitzø’s wardrobe in search of some of his little clothes, choosing an oversized hoodie with some colourful horse motifs. It even had an adorable woollen mane that went down the hood. Last of all he collected a plastic box at the bottom of the wardrobe, stolas recognising it. Inside Blitzø kept all of his baby things, pacifiers, some teethers and other equally adorable equipment. It was adorned with multiple stickers, all in the horse variety.

As he entered back into the main room, stolas began to gather some ingredients for breakfast. The plan was to make Blitzø some oatmeal for breakfast, which was simple enough. Blitzø always liked it drizzled with cherry syrup, and if he was feeling little enough he’d even let Stolas feed him.

Stolas carefully arranged the gifts wrapped in coloured paper by the tree, flicking on the fairy lights for added effect. He loved the small touches of sinsmas, indulging in the little details that made it feel magic. Blitzø had mentioned how sinsmas wasn’t really a special thing when he was a kid, the circus would perform through the whole holiday. Which included an extra special sinsmas day show which was very popular, but it meant he never got to really enjoy the holiday.

He thought of a little blitz crouched by the tree, tearing open coloured parcels in glee. You couldn’t help but smile. As a final touch, he pulled the blinds open to let the light in. Such a simple action turned into a huge mistake. As Stolas glanced outside, his gaze was caught to the horizon. Peeking just through the clouds was the new moon, only barely visible. By tonight it would be hanging at the peak of the sky, even in daylight it was beautiful.

How could something so beautiful destroy him so painfully? Stolas remembered everything, his special tradition with his daughter. He thought of Octavia, sitting alone and watching the moon rise. The way she spat her words towards her father, looking like she genuinely despised him. Who was he kidding? It didn’t look like he hated him, she did hate him. Stolas just sank to the floor, his beak quivering as he felt tears building in his eyes. It was all too much. All he wanted was to hold his daughter in his arms again, but would that ever happen again?

she hated him.

she HATED him.

-

Blitzø turned over in bed, dozily reaching over into the empty space of his bed. He’d gotten so used to sleeping next to somebody again, so when he didn’t feel any feathers in his grasp, it pulled him out from his snoozing.

“Mmme- Stolas?”

He mumbled, eyes fluttering open. As suspected, Stolas wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Pushing himself up onto his elbow before rubbing his eyes, recently Stolas had been the one who stayed in bed. Blitzø would usually let him sleep in for as long as he needed, sometimes leaving a note if he had to leave for work.

With a yawn Blitzø pulled himself up, before hearing something from outside the room. It took him a second to realise in his sleep addled state, but he could clearly hear a sadly familiar sound of crying. Within a second he’d jumped from the bed and thrown open the door.

“Stolas? are you okay?”

In hindsight it was a pretty stupid question, especially when he found said bird on the floor of his sitting room. He was curled in on himself, sobbing bitterly. It was uncomfortably reminiscent of what he’d been like when Octavia had rejected him.

“Hey hey- what’s going on?”

Blitzø joined him on the floor, resting a hand over Stolas’s shaking back. Stolas flinched at the touch at first, but couldn’t help but fall into Blitzø’s hold. Blitzø could feel Stolas’s feathers quivering as he tried to control his sobbing. The Imp couldn’t help but notice that a lot of his little stuff was scattered across the room.

His box of pacifiers and that one hoodie he liked to wear, there were also some new gifts under the tree.

“I had planned to- I’m sorry, i just wanted to make today special for you.”

Stolas whimpered, feeling like he’d ruined everything. He thought he would feel better today, if he got to care for Blitzø. But right now owl felt as fragile as glass, but Blitzø held onto him tight and securely. It clicked as he realised what Stolas had been trying to do, his expression softening.

“Oh stolas, it’s okay.”

“It’s not! All I’ve done is mope around and you’ve had to do everything for me. Not to mention the money you’ve spent and the time I’ve taken up. I had it all planned, you deserved a break-“

It took him a little time to string together his response, tears continuing to dribble down his feathers. He felt pathetic, how was he going to care for a regressed Blitzø when he was this much of a mess? It furthered his suspicion that was just a complete failure when it came to any kind of caregiving.

“Stolas listen to me, it’s okay. It’s.. really sweet you thought of this.”

Blitzø gently tilted his beak to meet his face, the tearstained bird’s expression tugging something on his heartstrings. He looked around, spotting the half made breakfast and carefully arranged presents. All the effort he’d made, for him no less.

“I don’t deserve you.”

He chuckled, managing to pull the lanky heap of owl closer into his lap the best he could. His statement seemed to reactivate Stolas tears though, who cried intelligibly into his chest. It was the other way around, it was Stolas that didn’t deserve him.

Whilst Blitzø still wasn’t entirely sure on what had triggered this, it didn’t take an idiot to know it was related to Octavia. In the time Blitzø had known Stolas, he’d never seen him like this. The Goetian Prince was so broken, fragile. But thankfully Blitzø had some experience in that feeling already.

He let him cry it out for a few minutes, with the shoulder of his shirt becoming very wet. He ran his fingers up and down Stolas’s feathers, gently preening him as he murmured comfort. The sobs eventually died down into sad sniffling, but the grip around him still hadn’t broken. Although Stolas’s heart was breaking, Blitzø’s grip around him was at least keeping said shards in place.

As Blitzø rubbed his back, he was hit with a sudden idea. He felt a little guilty that Stolas had gone through all this trouble for him, especially as he wasn’t feeling anywhere near small. And as much as he cared for Stolas, he couldn’t fake his regression either. Anyways, he didn’t feel like he was the one need in comfort right now.

“Hey, here’s an idea. I know we’ve never talked about this before, but what if you let me take care of you today?”

Stolas stirred a little with a frown, peeling his crispy feathered face away from Blitzø’s chest.

“What do you mean?”

“You take care of me when I’m feeling low, why not let me baby you for once? You’re lookin’ like you need it.”

The more Blitzø thought about it, the more he wanted to give it a try. There was something about the forlorn bird in his arms that melted his heart a little. Was this how Stolas felt with him? Nah, he couldn’t he this cute.

“No, you’re my baby. I care for you, I care for people- it’s what I like to do.”

Stolas suddenly felt flustered, face lighting up bright red. He’d never even considered the idea of swapping roles before. Blitzø was his baby, never the other way around. He wasn’t sure if it felt right to him, he wanted to be the one caring for Blitzø.

“Yeah, and you do a great fuckin job at it. So why not let me return the favour, you might even like it?”

Blitzø teased as he gently pinched the owls red cheeks, already delighting in the idea. Stolas found himself wavering a little, especially with how shivery and weak he was. He looked over at the gifts guiltily, but Blitzø already had it covered.

“Look we could try it today, if you don’t like it, we’ll stop. We can save the gifts for tomorrow, and then you can have your turn babying me, sound okay?”

Blitzø sounded so sure that Stolas found it hard to disagree. Although it still felt very alien, he definitely appreciated this cuddling part right now. So in the end gave a defeated shrug, Blitzø’s face lighting up.

“You just relax and let me take care of everything, feathers.”

Stolas shook for a second, before burying his beak into Blitzø’s shoulder again. Fresh tears erupted seemingly for no specific reason. But this time there was a sense of catharsis that came with it, to be able to cry in safety. Was this how Blitzø felt when Stolas would comfort him whilst small? He hoped so, as it felt pretty damn good.

Blitzø began to rock him back and forth, kissing the crown of his feathers. He gave him a few more minutes to cry, Stolas had been forcing himself into long periods of numbness recently and clearly needed it. Eventually Blitzø shifted Stolas to the side a little, who whined at the movement.

“Lemme just move ya onto the couch, I can’t feel my fuckin’ legs anymore.”

With quite a bit of effort, Blitzø managed to lift the bird onto the couch. Unfolding the blanket over the armrest and tucking it around his skinny frame. Whilst no longer sobbing, Stolas had been reduced to the awkward hiccupy stage. Blitzø told ahold of his hand, squeezing softly to get his attention.

“Hey try and breathe a little, in and out.”

The imp demonstrated, and Stolas tried his hardest to follow. But he found himself falling back into the unhelpful gulping, even with Blitzø’s help.

“Here’s an idea.”

Blitzø turned and rifled through his little box, finding an unopened package. Blitzø himself still hadn’t used these ones as he didn’t like the colours. Stolas turned to see what Blitzø was doing, with his pupils pin-pricking when he spotted it. In his hands was a package of pacifiers, a pack of three different shades of lilac to dark blue.

“You’re doing a shitty job at breathing right now, try one of these. You’ll have no choice but to breathe a little slower.”

He spoke so casually, holding out a dark blue pacifier. Stolas had seen this kind of item many, many times now. But now when it was being presented to him, rather from him? It felt a little scary. Blitzø watched as stolas internally fought with himself, rolling his eyes.

“Cmon, open that beak for me, feathers.”

He used the pet name for the second time, which made Stolas melt a little. As if beyond his control he held his beak open, Blitzø placing the pacifier there before he could change his mind.

The sensation was certainly strange at first, the bird wasn’t really sure what to do with it. But his body was still hellbent on breathing hard, so he focused on trying to breathe nasally instead. Without realising he began to suck on the bulb, and breathed in and out. If it hadn’t been such sad circumstances, Blitzø would’ve definitely taken a photo. It was just too fucking cute. Instead he joined Stolas on the couch, still demonstrating his breathing in time to Stolas’s.

“Feels good doesn’t it?”

Stolas looked up at him lazily, his was face a little red self consciously. But he couldn’t lie, the rhythmic sensation of the pacifier was incredibly soothing. With each minute he understood just why Blitzø liked them so much. There was a cloudy fuzzy sensation in his head, one that forced him away from all the sad and scary feelings. It was a blissful escape, but it wasn’t numbing him the way his pills used to.

So he nodded at his partner, squeezing his hand back tight. They spent the next twenty minutes just cuddling, and Stolas honestly felt the calmest he had in months. Blitzø eventually had to pry the owl off of him to sort out breakfast, turned on the TV for Stolas. He considered what to put on, before setting on an incredibly corny fairytale movie about a princess. But it was worth it to see the way Stolas’s eyes lit up when it came on.

Blitzø made himself a cup of coffee, and poured one of Stolas’s weird fancy teas into one of his own sippy cups. Choosing the moonlight unicorn design, after forcing stolas to watch every episode of his horse show, Stolas had eventually chosen his favourite character. When he returned to the couch, Stolas shuffled over to curl into his chest again. The pacifier still hasn’t left his beak since placing it there, he looked undeniably adorable. Blitzø was just so happy to see him looking content for the first time in days. The two could just spend their day with each-other’s company, enjoying every moment.

-

Neither demon even made it to the end of the movie, the two of them passed out in a tangle of limbs. The bird with his head curled underneath Blitzø’s chin, the imp’s hand subconsciously still stroking his feathers. Blitzø had gotten so used to himself being the baby in their relationship, that he’d never considered how much he’d enjoy swapping places. The remainder of their day continued in a similar fashion, Blitzø leading Stolas along in hand. And to his surprise Stolas was a very quiet little, who didn’t speak much for the rest of the day.

It was different than when he was quiet when he was sad though, Stolas would still giggle if Blitzø said something funny and was clearly enjoying himself. Stolas just felt happy that he didn’t have to try and think of words right now, he could just be. He allowed Blitzø to dress him in some loose cuddly clothes, and even hand feed him little squares of pancake when he felt up to eating.

Blitzø loved learning more about this little side of him. And Stolas found himself embracing a part of himself he’d never even uncovered. They spent the day indoors, playing games and watching movies. In the evening when Blitzø was busy running a bath for him, Stolas couldn’t help but glance outside. The moon was beginning to rise in the early evening, himself and Blitzø agreed to head to bed before midnight. The whole new year’s celebration never interested him too much, he really only ever used it as an excuse to get wasted.

Stolas pulled the pacifier from his beak and dropped it to the floor. Feeling the fog of his small space drift away, he took in a deep breath. Slipping outside onto the balcony, he dared himself to look up at the moon. Giving anything just for one more moment with Octavia, wondering what she was doing right now.

“I know you hate me, and that you can’t even hear me- But I love you so very much.”

He spoke to himself quietly, not breaking eye contact with the rising moon. Hoping that just maybe Octavia could somehow get the message. He stayed there for a little while, not even realising the slow tears dripping down his face until he felt a hand on his. Blitzø didn’t say anything, he stood aside the Owl for a while until he stirred from his trance.

“I got your bath ready, even added a bunch of those bath nukes you like.”

“Bath bombs- you mean.”

Stolas couldn’t help but correct, although he still sounded sad. Blitzø held onto his hand and lead him back inside, finding the pacifier abandoned on the floor.

“Hey you still want this buddy?”

He held it up, unsure if Stolas was feeling completely big again. The owl looked at the object, clearly considering it. He watched the Imp as he stared up at him with genuine adoration. Instead of a verbal response, he just took the pacifier back and allowed himself to sink back into that comforting headspace. The Goetian prince stood tall above Blitzø, and to any old person they must’ve looked ridiculous. But Blitzø looked up at the tall owl and only saw a little baby bird, one that was in desperate need of some love and care.

“Cmon then baby feathers, I have a whole collection of rubber duck horses just waiting to play with ya-“

Merry Christmas y’all ❤️❤️❤️