#given what happened the outcome was very satisfying

[askshivanulegacy]

It was SUCH a good scene. Though, contrary to the first post, it was INCREDIBLY justified, and that's part of what was so good about it.

Osha took all that hurt and betrayal, and it didn't matter that Sol was unarmed and not fighting back. The only thing that mattered was his terrible lie to make a child trust and believe in him just so he could have his Padawan, and the unprovoked murder he committed so he could have that Padawan.

He forgave her because he knew that he deserved what she gave him. He forgave her because maybe he finally understood the great evil he'd been committing for years.

Osha's actions were human. Her feelings were dark. Faced with the shock of this horrifically, terrible betrayal, you can debate whether they were evil. They were not unjustified, that's for sure. Sol got exactly what was coming to him, and that the show allowed Osha to unapologetically deliver that justice was wonderful.

One thing I did appreciate is that The Acolyte did not hold back on that Osha went full dark side, that Sol's kyber crystal was crushed by her anger and hate to the point that it bled into a red saber. She straight up murdered someone who was not fighting back. She killed him because she was hurt and angry, not because he was a threat. Osha's feelings of betrayal and rage were valid, her actions were not. She murdered an unarmed man who was not fighting back, who had no intention of fighting back, who literally forgave her as she choked the life out of him, and nothing of her actions were justified. She wasn't even regretful about it. The dark side can be humanized to a degree, it always has been in Star Wars, that's nothing new. Anakin's everything ever, Maul's pain and desperation for a connection through an apprentice, Dooku's clinging to his care for people like Yaddle or Asajj, the dark side has never been about detached or unsympathetic anger. It's always come from a very human place, that's why the Jedi constantly caution that no one is beyond it. But Osha embraced it here, she stepped over the line and murdered a defenseless man because of her rage, not because it was in any way justified as a killing, and the kyber crystal screamed and bled because of it. You don't get a red saber by being justified, you get it by crossing the line into an act of evil. And props to The Acolyte for not shying away from that, as human as Osha is and will continue to be, her actions were over the line of evil.

[cupcakeslushie]

First || Prev || …

Here’s the next part of the Kendratello AU! I knew it was going to be very dialogue heavy, so I figured writing it out would be fast, but I’m so ready to be done with it that I’ve not really beta read it. So I apologize for any errors. But enjoy!

Splinter loves his sons, but these last few days have been eating away at his already shriveled and fraying nerves. Watching his children ambling around their home, for months, each in varying states of anxiety, fear, and distress, hasn’t been easy on his old heart.

They’ve been through so much, experienced more hardships than Splinter has ever wanted for them. But the latest crucible tearing his family apart was caused, not by some ancient demon, or world-ending threat—but a fiendishly smart, young woman.

One who’d kidnapped his son and replaced him with a stranger that Splinter hardly recognized.

The bitter tale is too familiar for the old movie star to painlessly swallow. It seems fate played such cruel tricks sometimes. Always seeming to strike harsher the second go around. With outcomes even more brutal and painful. His son was stolen by a hateful, sadistic woman, and kept locked away, until she was satisfied with the new toy that emerged from the shadows.

So it stands to reason how…relieved Splinter had been that one, early morning. When his three sons had pulled Purple into his bedroom, piling into his bed, nothing but wide eyes and panicked shouting; one over the other. Looking back now, he can recognize how short-sighted his quick relief had been. But in the moment, as a father, Splinter had only seen this new, strange development as a blessing.

Donatello might have been confused, and irritated with his brother’s manhandling, but Splinter could clearly see more life in those eyes than he’d witnessed in months. Splinter had shushed the rest, and spoken to Purple directly, finally getting a better grasp on what his sons were shouting about.

Amnesia.

So, of course, relief. Because how could forgetting all those horrible, tortuous weeks in that woman’s grasp, possibly be a bad thing? By some miracle, Splinter’s boy had been returned to him. Nowhere near that frail ghost of Donatello, which Splinter would sometimes find curled up on the floor of his own lab, screaming Kendra’s name and sobbing to be returned to her care.

He had been spared all of that, like it never happened. Their family had been handed a gift, and Splinter truthfully wasn't interested in the whys of it all…

Until Michelangelo chose to contact Draxum, and words like “brain damage” and “tumor” were thrown into the mix.

An entire day of testing yielded…varying results. They were able to rule out the scariest of options. No dark shadows were seen in the X-rays of his son’s beautifully brilliant brain, and no concerning squiggles were pointed out by the Hidden City doctors who studied the fast moving waves appearing on the EEG. It was all a bunch of nonsense to Splinter, but Donatello nodded like he agreed, when he was handed the papers over to inspect himself.

Everything was normal, physically.

That left the most difficult part of the day. Getting his son to speak to a psychiatrist—seriously, and without snarking back at every possible question he would eventually be asked.

Draxum had thankfully picked a good one. Briefing her beforehand on…everything. She seemed prepared for Purple’s special brand of cynicism. The sheep yokai was apparently at the top of her field.

A tentative diagnosis of “dissociative amnesia” had been given, along with a small number of pamphlets and printouts. The doctor had informed Splinter that certain treatments might improve Donatello’s situation, but no cure had been discovered for something like this.

They would just have to take things one day at a time. And they’d been doing so well. Almost like everything was back to normal.

Splinter had become very good at ignoring that pending feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He smiled at his sons every day onward, like nothing was wrong. And all of them, in return, began falling back into a more comfortable ease around each other. The stress had just been starting to loosen in Red’s shoulders and jaw. Orange was giving real, honest smiles again. And Blue was no longer a shadow around corners, hiding from Purple like a bomb he was scared to set off.

But the other shoe that had been the root of Splinter’s dread, finally dropped, and the rug was pulled from under their feet once more, violently, with no warning.

Even after they’d managed to calm Donatello down. There was no negotiating the terms of his reality, and he was stubbornly convinced that the world around him was fabricated. Without caring about the consequences, he refused to be civil towards any of them, treating them all like jesters in a play, where no one had the script.

The family’s usual process for dealing with Purple’s anger–letting him cool off alone in his lab until he collected his thoughts–was unfeasible this time around.

Splinter didn’t think he could ever forget the image of his son, turning the knife he held in his hands inwards, and threatening to end his own life.

No; leaving him alone was not an option.

Which led back to Splinter’s previously mentioned frayed nerves.

Four days into this new, stressful change, and his genius son was still managing to find creative ways to sneak past their watchful eyes. Six attempts, in total. Each time, caught with seconds to spare, and just as traumatic for everyone involved.

Raphael and Michelangelo at the moment, were going through their home, removing every sharp implement they could find. Anything that could possibly be used to “put an end to the loop” that Donatello was convinced he was stuck in.

While the two performed their important task, Blue and Splinter had the harder of the two jobs; watching Purple.

Splinter was currently sitting comfortably in his chair, but it was far from his usual level of relaxation. Despite plenty of bean bags to occupy, the twins were locked in a shoving match. For some reason, they were fighting over the single, smallest one they must’ve owned.

“If you don’t get out of my personal space, I swear to Oppenheimer you will regret it, Leonardo!”

“And I swear to Ryan Renolds, that I’ll shred all of your softest hoodies if you kick me in the nuts one more time!”

“That Barbenheimer joke doesn’t even make sense, you idiot, that was Ryan Gosling!”

“Who mentioned Barbie? I’m talking about Deadpool and Wolverine!”

“What does that movie have to do with anything?!”

“Fuck dude, what did I just say about nut shots!”

“Then get out of my kicking radius, and your non-existent nuts will be safe!”

“BOYS!”

Both his sons quickly pause their arguing, giving their father their undivided attention.

“Leonardo, go help your brothers.” Splinter demands. “I will watch Purple. He has not had a moment of free time from any of you in days, and it is clearly wearing on all of us.” Blue gives his father one of his patented unimpressed stare downs.

“No offense, Pops, but how is you watching him, any different than me?”

“Because I will sit in my chair, and Purple will scroll on his phone, and there will be quiet.” Splinter can’t stand the bickering any longer. He knows both his sons will benefit from this time apart. It’s just convincing Blue of that.

Donatello’s gaze is boring holes into the back of Leonardo’s head while his second oldest son matches Splinter’s scrutiny. The rat can see the need for some fresh air battling against Blue’s desire to stay close. But Leonardo is his sharpest son, and even he can admit that his constant presence has become too grating for his brother.

“You need to watch him like a hawk, Dad,” Leo glares at his twin out of the corner of his gaze, “sometimes you can get a little…distracted.”

The new projector, playing Splinter’s same old programs, flashes against the curtain hung on the wall. The volume is set to low, but Blue still looks pointedly between his father and the screen. Splinter doesn’t blame him for his concern, so he tries to put all the gravity he can into his tone, enough that when he does promise to stay vigilant, it seems to convince Blue to place his trust in him.

Purple stays quiet through the exchange, only breathing a sigh of relief once his brother is long past the threshold of the den. He looks ready to lean back into his hard won pillows, but Splinter realizes that Blue had something of a point. Donatello is positioned quite far from him, and he’s suddenly nervous about catching something in time.

“Purple, how about you come sit with me.” Splinter suggests it kindly but firmly, and with a smile– so his son can’t refuse. He pats the bit of cushion next to his legs, “I will honor my promise to leave you alone, but I would be much more relaxed if you were within my reach.”

His boy merely blinks at him, blank faced, and staring at the very spot that Splinter has just created for him.

It isn’t as though his recliner is small, even if Splinter himself is. Donatello had custom made it for him, after one too many complaints about his old brown one hurting his back. It practically swallows Splinter, but remains just stiff enough to provide plenty of support for his lower back. He could even lay sideways and still have some space to stretch.

Splinter recalls very clear memories of all his sons fighting for a spot by his side when they were younger. But it has been some time since those days…perhaps Donatello thinks he’s far too old for such a thing as sitting by his aging father. Yoshi remembers himself at eighteen, and shudders. He’s forever thankful that no matter how lacking his parenting skills might have been, that his boys are kinder to him than he ever was to his Jiji.

Donatello pulls at some invisible thread of his black leggings. Since this new alteration of his memories, Purple has taken to wearing more layers. It’s nearing fall, but not nearly cold enough for the large sweatshirt, black leggings AND socks that his son is currently donning.

Splinter just barely hears Purple murmur a jumbled, “Huh?”

Splinter catches some sort of emotion actively being suppressed behind the bewildered shock at his offer, but it’s hard to tell what it is. Over the years Splinter is ashamed to say, he has grown very bad at reading his own children. Especially Purple, who, if he was being honest, has always been very hard to decipher.

Splinter starts to think the offer will be rejected, when Purple finally climbs to his feet and ambles slowly over. The unknown emotion skittering at the edge of Donatello’s expression morphs into something closer to suspicion. This one easy to identify, especially when it practically drips from his next words.

“Trying to endear yourself to me won’t sway me into falling for your tricks.”

The barb is said just as unkindly as everything else Purple has thrown at his family these last few days. Splinter lets it slide off him like water. He knows his son would (probably) never speak to him like that if he wasn’t stuck in such a painfully clear mode of survival and uncertainty.

“Yes, yes.” He says, untroubled. “Come sit and I can finally lean my chair back.”

Donatello watches him the entire time as he cautiously settles into his spot. He yelps when Splinter grabs his ankles and pulls his son’s long (thin, still much too thin) legs across his lap. For an instant, Splinter freezes, growing worried he’s overstepped. The act had been done without a thought. It’s the way Purple has always liked to sit, finding it more comfortable than any other way. Donatello preferred to keep his distance. A deviation from his siblings, for sure.

Michelangelo would press as close as possible, two sides smushed together like a hug, only without the constricting limbs (though, if Orange were ever to fall asleep in Splinter’s chair, those too would eventually find their way to catching him in their hold).

Leonardo preferred to sit on the arm of his chair, never staying still for long enough to find a comfortable position. But when he slumbered, after a long night of binge watching Novela’s with Splinter–he would curl up, head in his father’s lap, limbs held tight to his body. Like he was afraid even that was asking for too much.

Raphael, his poor, eldest son, hadn’t sat with him in so long. Splinter could still remember a little turtle tot in red, climbing up and splaying out onto his lap when he needed a good cry–or just a moment of peace from his much too loud siblings. Sadly, it wasn’t long before his Red was too big, and his father too small to provide such a refuge. The last time Raphael needed consoling; after the Krang, Splinter had been forced to climb up onto his own son’s knees in order to reach and wipe away his tears.

In the few rare instances of Purple seeking out physical touch, this was all he would allow. Legs stretched over his father’s lap, but his upper body was always off limits. Pulled just far enough away from the threat of any sort of long term contact.

Splinter used to wonder if Purple was scared to ask for anything more, like Leonardo, or if he thought depriving himself of a comforting hug would make him seem stronger, like Raphael, or even the rare times when Michelangelo wished to appear more mature and refused to be comforted. Eventually, Splinter caught on to the truth. His son was asking for comfort, in his own unique way. He was content with the minimal amount of closeness, as long as he felt like he was able to dictate the terms.

But one thing Purple would always allow his father to do, was loop his fingers around his ankles. Trusting the grip would hold his legs in place and keep him stable. He once said the pressure was small enough that it wasn’t overwhelming, but strong enough that it could ground him when everything became too much.

Even now, the act of reaching out to pull his son’s long legs up had been so instinctive. When Splinter looks over and sees the uncertainty still on Purple’s face, he knows he’s pushed too far too quickly.

It’s a risky move, but he’s already pushed, and it’s something that never fails, not once since he’s discovered it.

Purple has always been the most ticklish of all his brothers. Another thing that never really helped his sensory issues. But Splinter long ago discovered that there was a particular spot, which could always earn him a giggle and a brighter smile.

Splinter grips the meat of Donatello’s right knee and jiggles it back and forth. The silly action seems to do the trick and knocks something loose in his son’s overwrought head. His gamble pays off spectacularly, and Splinter is overjoyed to see a small smile erase most of the uncertainty clouding Donatello’s face. It isn’t a full peal of laughter, but the wariness makes way for something softer, and the huff of air from his nose is just as rewarding as a full body laugh.

His boy rests his shoulder and head onto the cushioned back of the chair and Splinter presses the button that will lift up the leg rest, and recline them both into a more restful position.

After a few moments of quiet, Donatello slowly pulls his phone from the pocket of his hoodie. Even without looking directly at him, Splinter can feel his son watching and waiting for the reprimand he thinks will come. Instead, Splinter raises the volume of his show just loud enough for him to hear, but not enough to completely shatter their peace. He wants to make Purple feel more at ease; like he’s not being constantly surveilled–not providing more overstimulation.

They sit like that for some time. Splinter rubs a thumb back and forth across the meatier part of Donatello's calves. He’s learned that repetitive touch is the best kind of grounding technique for Purple. The patterned motion always worked to calm his nerves.

Even still, after only so long Splinter catches Purple lowering his phone.

He keeps his own gaze forward, locked on his commercials. Splinter can see, without looking, that his son is studying him, trying to take apart something in his mind that he doesn’t understand. Splinter allows him all the time he needs to gather his thoughts.

Finally Purple speaks, “Dad…?” It’s so quiet, if Splinter hadn't been waiting for it, he might’ve missed it.

He pauses the repetitive kneading for just a moment, squeezing his hold, and humming in order to prompt his son to continue his thought.

“Can I tell you something?” The inquiry is whispered to him so delicately. It takes everything in him to keep his face open and soft and his movements steady. It’s clear that Donatello is trying his best to remain aloof, but his gaze is locked on his hands that are settled in his lap, the fingers of one pulling on the digits from his other.

At some point he must’ve put his phone completely away. Splinter feels the pressure of having Donatello's complete focus aimed at him.

The tugging intensifies. Splinter wonders if he should reach out, but he’s not sure how well that would be received. It doesn’t look painful just yet.

“I don't know what Kendra is accomplishing by showing me this.” Donatello growls, suddenly digging his palms into his eyes like he can still feel the weight of the screen blocking his vision. “Trying to make me happy, only to rip it all away from me? Or attempting to make me feel, even more like a useless burden than I was?”

It’s the first crack in his armor that Purple has shown in days. A clear sign that he was not as unaffected by Kendra’s lies as he’d been trying to project. Donatello sighs, but as it dies out Splinter thinks it sounds closer to a sob.

“You can’t tell the others…” Donatello looks at him with wet, desperate eyes, and it’s unclear if his son still doubts who he’s speaking to, but Splinter works to ease his fears all the same.

“I swear, whatever you tell me will remain between us, alone.”

Donatello nods faintly, eyes trailing downwards once more. Splinter may have had trouble before, but now the many emotions jumping across his son’s face—fear, shame, frustration, all are easy to catch.

With a shaking breath he whispers his secret. “I lied.” He’s crying now, real tears that he doesn’t even bother to wipe away. The pulling at his skin grows more violent, and Splinter finally interferes to carefully pry Donatello’s hands apart before damage is done. In place he cradles his son’s hands like delicate porcelain and runs a thumb over Donatello’s palm.

“I told everyone that I could tell. That I wasn’t being fooled, but that’s not exactly true. The last few loops have…it’s been getting harder, and harder to remember things— how they really happened. Too much is…plausible.”

Splinter keeps silent. This confession has clearly been weighing on Donatello. He deserves to get it all out, and hopefully feel lighter for it. Even if Purple suspects the family, something is letting Donatello open up enough for him to share his fears.

“There was one loop…Mikey broke…he broke the remote…When I said I didn’t have time to fix it. He threw the pieces at my head. He would never do that, though…right?”

“No, of course not,” Splinter answers immediately, quick to banish the doubt from his son’s mind. Donatello only blinks at him, like his thoughts are moving too slow, and cannot comprehend such a simple, stark contradiction to what he experienced.

“It felt so real…it all feels so real. But…I could feel how one of the sharp, broken corners had cut through my mask and how the wet fabric stuck to my skin with blood.”

Donatello raises a hand and touches the spot where the phantom wound must’ve sat. The pain now gone, but the memory of it haunts his eyes and rattles the tremors building in his hands.

“I thought…I thought I was handling this—maybe not well…But I’d hoped I would be strong enough to last until you all came for me…And now Raph is saying it’s already over.”

It’s a simplified form of the truth which they had tried to get Purple to believe, but even that much clearly doesn’t sit well with him. “If it is over, why does my body feel like one massive bruise? How did you all find me? How long did I last? Was I in there long enough to…?”

He’s clearly scared to ask Splinter any more questions, so he trails off, curling in on himself and pulling his hands up to his chest, pressing there, as if checking to make sure he feels something still beating.

Splinter decides he’s waited long enough and slowly pulls Donatello out of his hunched ball and guides his head to his own chest, making sure his ear is aligned against his own pulsing heartbeat.

Donatello resists slightly at first, but the moment he’s close enough to catch the sound, his breath catches and he glues himself to the spot.

“I don’t want to be there anymore,” Purple murmurs. It sounds like sleep is catching up with his son, the exhaustion pulling him down and slurring his words.

Splinter cups the back of Donatello’s head and carefully tug his fur lined blanket down from where it’s been sitting on the back of his chair. The blanket slots over the both of them and Donatello curls even closer to his father, tucking himself into his warmth.

“Go to sleep, when you wake up, you will be right here.” He’s sure to say it softly but with as much reassurance as possible, and Donatello seems too tired at this point to hold onto his doubts.

“Okay…,” Donatello mutters. Then, practically hanging on to the waking world for one final query hesitantly asks, “…Dad?…Do you love me?”

Splinter doesn’t even think. “Of course, my son.”

Donatello’s breathing finally evens out, and Splinter feels a few tears finally escape.

He’s not sure what next steps they should take, or what kind of state his son will be in when he wakes, but Splinter can only hope this is progress. He prays it won’t be undone…but regardless, Donatello is home. Any steps back or forward will be taken together, and that is the most important part.

[utilitycaster]

i respect matt for constantly wanting to bring in various perspectives and have this 'no good answer' kind of debate but also like. I cannot shake the feeling that sort of thing works SO much better in a scripted format - book, movie, tv show - than ttrpg actual play. Like you said - there needs to be a clear direction of SOME kind. I want to love this campaign so badly because the ideas and character beats are there but the PACING is a slog and direction is just ?

Hi anon,

I have another ask in my inbox that I'm going to answer that's going to touch on this but like. The problem really is, again, the same one I've been saying since the god debates first popped up. "Pulpier and Deadlier" did not prepare the cast for a campaign with extensive philosophical debates - no one in Bells Hells knows shit about dick and most of them seem to have been crafted expecting a more character-centric campaign that obviously did not happen - and because it's not just an open philosophical exploration but a rather specific plot, the party has been ushered along by a number of NPCs and events all saying "you should feel THIS WAY". Which, I should note, is not unrealistic for life, but, and this is part of what I'm going to cover in more length in the other ask, it does not make for a very satisfying story to watch, in the same way that a loving healthy relationship in which nothing dramatic happens is aspirational for real life and stultifyingly boring in fiction.

I do not wish to catastrophize here because it's very possible Bells Hells will go back, make a decision, and this will just be one more annoying argument but we'll get past it, but if this does turn into still more party indecision after we had a big scene that was like "YOU ARE THE HOPE OF EXANDRIA" I think we can safely say that this is just. not a story that has a hope of being as narratively satisfying as it could be (and I say this even if it ends with the factual outcomes I personally want). That doesn't mean there's not a lot of enjoyable pieces to it, and I'm certainly here for the Mighty Nein and Vox Machina's contributions, but yeah this needed MUCH more planning from the start to be able to carry the themes I think Matt wanted it to. Like...I think we are crashing into the boundaries of "it's their game" on some level, because it is great that he is trying to surprise his friends and let a lot of people DM within the world but it means the plot has gotten unbelievably muddied and distorted in a way that it wouldn't had the cast been given a bit more context and the other DMs a bit firmer direction.

[mysticstronomy]

WHY DOES OUR UNIVERSE EXIST??

Blog#446

Saturday, October 19th, 2024.

Welcome back,

It is really quite amazing that you’re alive. I’m not talking about you specifically and how if your mom and dad hadn’t met, that you’d never have been born. I’m thinking much bigger, namely, about the fundamental laws of nature that govern the deepest and most basic behaviors of matter and energy. For reasons that we do not understand, among the many ways the Universe could be, it seems to be finely tuned in a way that makes it possible for life to exist.

Let’s discuss some examples. Everything is made of atoms. If atoms didn’t exist, you certainly wouldn’t either. Thus, any change in the laws of nature that interferes with atoms could have a huge consequence for the makeup of the Universe. Suppose that the mass of the electron is twice as big as it is now. If that were true, the main fusion process in most stars wouldn’t work. Because stars are the kilns in which heavy elements are formed, some of the familiar elements of the periodic table wouldn’t exist at all.

Another example: The protons and neutrons at the center of atoms are made of two types of quarks, with the names “up” and “down.” (Protons have two up quarks and one down quark; neutrons have two down quarks and one up quark.) These quarks have a very small mass — just a tiny fraction of the proton or neutron — with the down quark being slightly heavier. The consequence of this is that protons live essentially forever, while isolated neutrons decay in about 15 minutes.

If the mass of the up and down quarks were reversed, neutrons would be stable, and protons would decay. Since neutrons don’t have electric charge, they wouldn’t attract electrons and therefore no atoms would form. No atoms means no us.

Scientists know dozens of examples of little changes that would radically alter the Universe. A small change in the laws of gravity could have caused the Universe to collapse into a black hole immediately after it came into existence. Alternatively, gravity could have been too weak for stars and galaxies to form. Either way, we wouldn’t exist.

Given that small changes in the laws of nature could completely alter what the Universe looks like, many people wonder just why those laws are the way they are. Some invoke a creator who knew what he or she was doing and set up everything “just so” to allow us to exist.

Such an explanation could be thought of as one version of what is often called “intelligent design.” But such an explanation is not entirely satisfying. It’s not all that different from saying “just because.” What other explanations are there?

The scientific explanations aren’t compelling either. One possibility is that it is simply a matter of chance — that when the Universe began, the laws of nature just happened to be what they are. In this way of thinking, it’s just a matter of luck. Other outcomes were possible, but they just didn’t happen.

There is another approach, which is to deny that small changes in the laws of nature can happen. Perhaps the notion that we could change the mass of the electron without changing anything else isn’t really a possibility, meaning that there are one or more unknown guiding principles that force things to be the way they are.

Originally published on https://bigthink.com

COMING UP!!

(Wednesday, October 23rd, 2024)

"HOW IS THE SPACE INFINITE??"

[the1entirecircus]

The Batfam’s Pokémon Teams

Considering that I’ve already done the Justice League’s Pokémon teams and their enemies’ Pokémon teams, I thought to might as well give the batfam their teams. But since I already did Batman on the Justice League list, he will not be on the list.

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Alfred Pennyworth

Indeedee (Male)- Alfred is most famously known as Batman's Butler, so giving him a butler pokemon would be both useful and helpful.

Leavanny- His day-to-day duties as the butler of Batman, Alfred is always repairing some type of clothing for the Batfam.

Drampa- It is commonly joked around in the community that Alfred is the one person in the batfam you do no want to mess around with. Drampa are known for their kind nature that comes with a destructive outcome if enraged or needing to protect the children it cares for which reflects Alfred a great deal.

Blissey- Another representative of Alfred's caring side.

Polteagheist- He's british and likes tea.

Inteleon- Alfred has a history in the military and being one of the few batfamily members to actually utilize a gun. Him having an Inteleon seemed like a No-Brainer to me.

Many of Alfred's pokemon were chosen simply because they could be found in Galar, which is the Pokemon equivalent of England. The exception of course being Leavanny, but it is still a fitting pokemon for him to have.

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Nightwing

Hitmontop- This is a reference to Dick's beginnings as an acrobat in Haley's Circus. I can see this pokemon being one of Dick's first as he was given it when it was still a tyrogue.

Marowak- Both a nod to the fact that Dick is an orphan and how he covered for Batman.

Swellow- Visually speaking, Swellow slightly resembles Nightwing, especially if we're talking about his DCAU adaptation with the Mullet/Long Hair.

Rockruff- Yes, Haley is a shiny Rockruff with one leg.

Cyclizar- This was the last pokemon I had to come up with, and so my brain suddenly reminded me of Motor Cycle Monday from Teen Titans Go. Considering that Nightwing does use a motorcycle sometimes, this makes sense for him.

Greninja- A stealthy pokemon that relates to espionage in some way. Seems fitting for Nightwing during his time with Spyral during the New 52

I wanted to pay homage to everything well-known about Dick Grayson/Nightwing. With the exception of his bubble butt, his team references his time Haley's Circus, the fact he's an orphan and became batman, being Nightwing in General, and others.

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Oracle/Batgirl

Swoobat- Considering her history of being used as just a love interest and not being regarded as an actual character, Barbara having a Swoobat felt like a decent choice.

Rotom- As Oracle, Barbara can hack and mess with enemy technology like how Rotom can infiltrate different machines.

Gardevoir- The reason I gave Barbara a gardevoir is sort of an edgy reason. Gardevoir's whole thing is that they are fiercely loyal to their trainers and will protect them at all cost. Now, what happened in the Killing Joke still happens in this universe, so that means that Bab's Gardevoir couldn't protect Babs. This would lead her Gardevour to become very depressed but overall determined to help her trainer more.

Mienshao- Barbara knows martial arts

Magnezone- Barbara is one of the most well-known (Idk if she was the first) person in the chair. So, her having a pokemon that can receive signals seems useful.

Venusaur- If you saw my Legion of Doom post, then you can recall that I gave Joker Toxicroak because of his adaptation in The Batman tv series. My choice in giving Babs a Venusaur is based on her relationship with Poison Ivy in that series. Not saying thats exactly the case in my HC universe however.

While some of the choices felt off even for me, overall I'm satisfied with what I did for Batgirl's pokemon team.

---

Red Hood

Old Team

Primeape- Many who think of Jason as Robin remember him as being angry and very impulsive, and while that isn't entirely true, this pokemon does reflect that side of him.

Fletchinder- The evolved form of the robin pokemon to represent Jason's intimidating side.

Snicket- Jason's Post-Crisis reintroduction showed him as a car tire thief of crime alley.

Cubone- A nod to how Jason was initially just a clone of Dick Grayson (in terms of character, not a literal genetic clone) and how it was his desire for his mother's love that got him killed.

Zorua- Although reflective of Jason's older-self, Zorua's tricky nature of disguising itself to hide from others is a good way to show what Jason would end up like.

Snubbul- Another representative of Jason's personality, many see him as a tough guy, but really he's just a sweet guy with attachment issues.

New Team

Annihilape- After the accident, Jason's Primeape would evolve into Annihilape. Annihilape reflects how the lazarus pit drove Jason mad upon his own revival.

Staraptor- An edgy bird pokemon that likes to be alone it does reflect Jason's isolating tendencies whenever he gets into fights with bruce.

Alolan Marowak- Since Batman and Nightwing both have Marowak, Jason holding having his Marowak post-accident is reflective of this. While his "Alolan" Marowak only became this way due to the Lazarus Pit, it still has the reasons for becoming one. Jason also possesses spiritual abilities thanks to his resurrection, and Alolan Marowak reflects that the best.

Hiusian Zoroark- According to the lore, Zoroark came back to life out of spite. While Jason had no choice in the matter, first being resurrected by one of Superboy Prime's reality-altering punches and then having his memories return thanks to the lazarus pit, if Jason could come back to life out of spite, he would.

Doublade- A reference to the All-Blades, Jason's Doublade is a meta-pokemon that has a new move Blight Slash and a new ability called All-Good. Blight Slash is a physical steel-type move that does super effective damage on dark type pokemon. All-Good resists the effects of any dark type move.

Hydreigon- For a while before the New 52, Jason was considered a complete villain against the batfam. Hydreigon's brutish nature is meant to reflect that.

The reason why I gave Jason two teams is because the explosion that killed him would also kill some of his pokemon.

---

Red Robin/Robin/Drake/whatever Tim goes by now

Talonflame- Talonflame is the most visually similar to Tim's uniform as Red Robin (I'm refering to the times he uses the Black and Red costumes of course)

Farfetch'd- A reference to the time he went by the Drake

Vikavolt- Tim is often regarding as the tech wizard Robin out of the five that have taken the title. This is also a reference to how Tim "died" by a bunch of drones firing at him.

Pancham- Given that Tim has many alternate versions of himself that are evil, Pancham reflects that given that it evolves into a dark type that needs the help of another dark type to evolve.

Komala- Tim is often given this headcanon that he is constantly sleep deprived and needs coffee. And while there is no coffee pokemon, there is a pokemon that is constantly tired.

Reuniclus- The time when Tim tried to clone Superboy to bring him back.

I will admit, I struggled with Tim's team. I wanted to give him a pokemon that represented his bisexuality, but none really fit.

---

Spoiler/Batgirl

Clodsire- You're going to look at me and tell me that Spoiler wouldn't own a Clodsire? It has her color scheme and everything (most of her color scheme anyways)

Swoobat- Steph was first introduced as a possible love interest for Tim Drake. She

Talonflame- A reference to her time as Robin.

Pikachu- This feels like a pokemon Steph would have

Espeon- Spoiler's whole gimmick is that she investigates a villain's scheme and then spoils it to the public. Espeon's ability to predict enemy attacks helps reflect this. Also gives her a counterpart to her bff, Cassandra Cain aka Orphan/Batgirl

Goodra- Goodras are silly and affectionate, and Steph is often portrayed so as well.

Most of these pokemon were easy to come up with.

---

Orphan/Batgirl

Banette- Banette is the most visually similar to Cassandra's costume

Noivern- Given that Noivern is the best looking Bat pokemon (fight me), it would be dumb not to give it to the best-looking batfam member

Sneasler- Given her ninja skills, Sneasler feels like a fitting option. And if you feel that isn't a good idea since Sneasler are probably extinct in the pokemon world, how do you know they're not in the shadows?

Umbreon- a representation of both Cassandra's nightly activities as well as her character arc.

Kommo-o- A representation of her time with the league of shadows.

Most of Cassandra's pokemon are reflections of herself like the other pokemon teams.

---

Robin (Damian)

Alolan Meowth- A reference to Alfred the Cat, Alolan Meowth was specifically chosen because of its...demanding nature and how it takes a close bond to make it stronger (or evolve it)

Noivern- A reference to Goliath, Damian's Noivern is a meta-pokemon with red fur and scales along with an extra set of wingless arms. It has the ability "Brutal Beast" which causes moves like Outrage to do 1.5x more damage.

Miltank- A reference to batcow.

Pawniard- Being that he was raised in the league of assassins, Damian would of course own a pokemon connected to

Fletchinder- He's Robin, of course he has a Robin Pokemon.

Lucario- A reference to Titus and how Damian grew close to him.

Damian's pokemon team was pretty simple given that he has his own collection of animals from his adventures of being Robin.

---

Batwoman

Gliscor- While a member of the bat family, Batwoman doesn't tend to follow the rules such as no-killing and no-guns. Yes I know Jason doesn't follow this rule either but still.

Bisharp- Given her military background, a Bisharp would reflect this. It would also hold an Eviolite.

Sawk- Batwoman has lots of martial artist training

I gave Kate a smaller team as she would rely on her guns more often. Also because I struggled to come up with anything else.

---

Catwoman

Meowscarada- While she is no magician, Catwoman is however quite elusive. Her having a Meowscarada as both her partner and starter pokemon felt fitting.

Persian- Selina Kyle in some continuities is the daughter of Carmine Falcone "The Roman". Persian is often seen by the side of the evil Giovanni, so the addition of this pokemon to Catwoman's roster felt fitting.

Sableye- Sableye reflects Catwoman's constant thievery of jewelry and such.

Lopunny- one of Catwoman's abilities is her athletic skill and she is often sexualized, so Lopunny is fitting for her.

Initially, I was going to give Selina a bunch of cat pokemon but then I felt that was too simple. She is more than just a Cat burglar after all.

---

The Signal

Midday Form Lycanroc- This pokemon was chosen because it prowls during the day just like Duke does.

Kilowattrel- Matches his color scheme

Gallade- One of Signal's power's is to see a little bit into the future by refracting light.

Same problem I had with Batwoman, couldn't come up with much.

---

Batman (Terry McGinnis)

Crobat- This one is obvious, but its because he's da Batman! (Or in this universe, he's Zubatman)

Toxtricity- This is why

Scrafty- Because of Terry's messy life, he picked pokemon that sort of reflect that attitude.

Gothamite Revavroom- In Neo Gotham City, a new species of Revavroom started to appear because of all the advanced technology. Now Steel/Electric, Neo Gotham City Revavroom races through the place as it hunts prey. It has the ability Surge Surfer to help boosts its already high speed so that foes can never gain the advantage. This choice was of course because of the flying batmobile Terry has.

Marowak- Terry lost his dad in the first episode.

Incineroar- Terry has to fight through a level of imposter syndrome in Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker. Incineroar reflects this through not being a fighting type but also having fighting type elements.

---

Up Next:

Titans' Pokemon Teams

Previously:

Justice League Pokemon Teams

Legion of Doom Pokemon Teams

[actuallyevilgay]

Oneshot: Charmed

Ascended Astarion x male reader DNI if you are a minor. Dead dove, don’t eat. Please read my about before replying.

Content Warnings: Some Mind Control through a spell, but not for explicit purposes. Tav has a brief history of being a reluctant sex worker but has worked through his trauma. Summary: Tav runs into Astarion 10 years after the defeat of the netherbrain at a party hosted in Baldur’s gate. Notes: Tav would be of a long living race for some context. Obviously spoilers for act 3 etc. No heroic Tav.

A/N: I will be returning to the Apathy sometime soon, but holidays are busy and I had this oneshot in mind.

……

You are healthy. At least that’s what you tell yourself, strong as you are.. Some things are worse than the scars of your body from all the fighting you had to do ten years ago. Before the mind flayers and the tadpole, your life had been a mess. Living as a criminal and thief, willing to do anything morally questionable in order to survive. You shut off the part of yourself that was empathetic towards others, only to regain some of it when you made friends for the first time.

They didn’t know when they met you, what you’ve been through. And even as you told them, you could scarcely feel anything towards it yourself. Not until Astarion. Not until you met someone who understood. If anything, you thought what happened to him was even worse, but he refused to let you think that way. He couldn’t accept that.

When you were a young adult, one of your heists had gone severely wrong, a Zhentarim agent captured you. To repay your debts, you had to serve as a bed companion for some of the most heinous clients the organisation had. At the time, you didn’t care for the cost.. Just the outcome. Being a sex worker wasn’t all that bad, you had convinced yourself. You were treated well most of the time as long as you didn’t act out and did what you were asked to do. To play on every fantasy at the request of your paying customers.. Even if the money wasn’t yours to keep.

They provided you with clothing, food, and comfortable places to sleep. It was an exchange. Much better than sleeping on the streets and mobbing unwitting strangers.

The scars that were made during that time no longer itch and hurt. When the mind flayers for some reason decided to grab you on your way to escort someone, freedom was not something you had thought about in a very long time. The thought of having to find your own meals and make your own camp was strange and abnormal in the midst of everything. 

You could go anywhere you wanted. If not for the parasite problem that required fixing.

The adventuring days that followed left you with many beloved memories, as well as tearful ones. When Astarion tried to seduce you with his usual script, you simply looked him up and down and finished all his sentences, adding; ‘’I know what you’re doing.’’

‘’You’re not the only one looking for protection.’’

It wasn’t long until you ran into Zhentarim again, the dread sinked in.. And so your personal quest became a plot of revenge you didn’t know you so dearly wanted.

It was so satisfying to fight side by side and kill off every damn Zhent you could get your hands on. You took great pleasure in using your newfound strength and allies for this purpose.

The rage you had subdued before spilled out with every breath you took from them.

Equality was very important to you, equal exchange.. And so, you helped Astarion get his revenge and gain the powers he so craved.

You were in love with this man, and he had loved you in return. However.. During the night after the defeat of his torturer, Astarion’s choice of words put you off really bad. You hadn’t processed your trauma at the time, you hadn’t given it space.. It reminded you too much of something you’ve gone through before. A conversation you’ve had before.

‘’I’m not.. Ready to make such a commitment.’’ You hesitated, even if you wanted to be with him forever.. To be safe in his arms, it hit a little too close to home. He wasn’t the one who hurt you, yet your instincts made you brace yourself.. Set up walls. Keep him out.

His fears and anxieties of losing you made him overreach and speak out of turn, so you broke up with him out of fear and heartbreak.

The morning after was the worst memory of your already plentiful collection of awful memories. It broke you, over and over again. 

Maybe he had changed.. But you couldn’t judge him for craving power. You had craved power yourself, as it was something you literally never had access to before mindflayers kidnapped you. All you knew was petty crimes and reluctant servitude.

You didn’t hate it entirely after all.. Perhaps, had you been given the chance to become a sex worker on your own terms, choose your own clients and have your own autonomy, it wouldn’t have left you so damaged.

10 years pass by, The heroes of Baldur’s gate are invited to a party hosted as Wyrm’s crossing. Something about a statue being built in their honour.

When the invitation of Withers arrived at your doorstep, you weren’t on speaking terms.. With anyone for that matter. You avoided the city entirely. 

But this new invite, came to a Tav that had long since healed from his wounds. Come to terms with the things he’s been through. Embraced his sexuality, and grew more comfortable with the world around him.

In those ten years you’ve done all sorts of things, mostly adventure.. Solving mysteries, and occasionally helping your friends on their endeavours. Sometimes, you would re-indulge your vengeance and chase out whatever Zhentarim stronghold you could find on your travels. They feared you. They tried to be rid of you so many times.. But no, If you see Tav, try to be diplomatic. Screw that. If they dared to exist near you, they were as good as dead. And after some time, you rarely saw them again. Perhaps they had designed ways to avoid you entirely, business routes, hidden caches. As long as you didn’t see a Zhentarim symbol on your travels, you stopped caring about them.

One thing you hadn’t done was fall in love again. Gale had exclusively chased after you not too long ago, which you agreed to pursuing at first. Eventually Gale ceased his attempts at courting you, when he came to realise you were not over Astarion at all. 

‘’I’ve had my tribulations with my long lost affections for Mystra.. But Tav, this is different.’’

Gale eyed you with worried glances, his face had aged much the past ten years. You were trying. You wanted to fall in love again. You loved Gale, but it was clear you did not feel the same way as he did for you.

‘’I know we were planning to attend the party as a couple.. But I can’t let you do this to yourself.’’ Gale let out a deep sigh. ‘’Or to me, for that matter.’’

‘’Are you breaking up with me?’’ Your voice was more of a whispered mumble, rather than outright spoken. ‘’It.. It appears so.’’ Gale’s response made you realise he had matured more than you had the past 10 years. Not just physically. Emotionally.

You may have overcome the things that were done to you, but not your heartbreak. Whenever Gale wanted to talk badly about your past relationship, you shut down and refused to even think of Astarion that way. ‘’He has his reasons, he didn’t mean it.’’ Your defences barely made any stance. You were the one that ran away.

‘’What Astarion said to you was horrible, and if he wanted your forgiveness he should have chased after you, despite all his shortcomings.’’ Gale Reflected, only for you to stumble over your words and go silent.

‘’I can chaperone you at the party, Tav, so you don’t have to feel alone.. But let's not pretend this is something else anymore.’’ Gale put his hand over yours, giving you an assuring squeeze. ‘’I will always be your friend.’’ He smiled with such kindness, that it put tears to your eyes.

Then the realisation hit your gut. Astarion would likely be at the party, and that worried Gale more than trying to sway you over to him. Was Gale afraid of the Vampire Ascendant? Or was he simply worried for your wellbeing? No.. Gale definitely learned to care for his own wants. That’s why he broke up with you, not because of your ex being a powerful vampire lord. This relationship with Gale was never that official. You went on several dates, you’ve kissed him a few times. It didn’t get that much further. You didn’t want a rebound.

‘’You’ve gone through so many battles, Tav.’’ Gale released your hand. ‘’Focus on how far you’ve come.’’ 

The party at Wyrm’s crossing had a dress code. One you intended to follow. Ten years ago you wouldn’t have picked such flimsy attire, yet tonight you did. You wanted to show off as much as anyone else. And damn the hells, You looked great. Not just great- No, mesmerising.

It was somewhat revealing, showing your neckline and exposing a portion of your chest. It was loose  and comfortable around the transparent fabric of the sleeves, but tight around the waist. It had a cape akin to a draping sparkling veil, gently gliding over the ground with your every step. You were not here to escort someone, you were here to be celebrated. To show your face after you disappeared for ten years.

To save yourself from the stress of potentially seeing him, you crossed Astarion out of your mind and focussed on mingling and dancing with strangers and old friends alike. You were having fun, you haven’t smiled this much in some time. It was a good idea to come.

‘’You haven’t aged a day!’’ Shadowheart exclaimed, ‘’Neither have you-’’ You quickly responded, grinning as she examined your outfit. ‘’Are you well? What am I saying.. Of course you are well! Look at you!’’ Her hands gestured towards the fine embroidery. 

‘’That must’ve cost a fortune,’’ She muttered. ‘’..Do you-’’ She was unsure how to word it, because it may have come out wrong otherwise. ‘’Uhm- Which one..’’

‘’Oh, I don’t have a boyfriend.. And I didn’t like the outfits gifted by the party’s benefactors.’’ You replied, waving your hand awkwardly, hoping to cross out her assumptions of the list. ‘’I bought this myself with my own money. Have to show off I’m my own person somehow, right?’’ Some part of you felt strange saying that, even if it was true. 

Your eyes glanced towards Gale, seeing him chat with Minthara of all people. The conversation must’ve been interesting enough for her to stick around.. Huh. People change.

Astarion changed.

His eyes met yours, and you both froze in place. He was standing all the way to the other side of the hall, surrounded by a large group of nobles. His expression was not the one you remembered of him.. You couldn’t tell if he was shocked or surprised.. Or- More likely, he had been staring at you for a while now and was startled to see you look back.

You turned your head abruptly, hoping he would ignore you. The walls you’ve so carefully crafted to guard your heartbreak all came back to you. Don’t even think about it.

Don’t go to him. Don’t give him that pleasure.

Every fibre in your being was fighting it. Shadowheart continued talking to you, telling you of a story about reconnecting with her parents. Her mother had passed away a few years ago, and she got a selunite hairpin to remember her by, proudly showing it off.

‘’I wonder if Dame Aylin and Isobel are doing well.’’ You muttered, making Shadowheart look at you with excitement in response. ‘’Oh trust me, they are.’’ She continued to gossip, talking about Karlach and Wyll, and even her own relationship with Lae’zel.

‘’There was some suspicion you were dating Gale, actually.’’ She whispered, leaning in, ‘’Is it true? Is that why you arrived together?’’

‘’I didn’t realise you were such a romantic, Shadowheart..’’ You shook her head. ‘’No, I’m probably not going to fall in love again. ..That part of my life is over.’’ The confidence in your voice lacked some strength, but it was enough to satisfy her.

You did want to fall in love with Gale. He was great- even if your lifespans greatly differed, you wanted to stay with him. Yet your affections were more platonic than they ever were romantic. Forcing yourself to be with him was not good for either of you. And thus, it was better to not speak of it again. Lest you hurt him or yourself more.

Out of a hint of desperation in your heart, you quickly glanced back to where you’ve caught Astarion staring back at you before. He was gone. Likely moved on to another row of nobles and high status people to mingle.. Good. He wasn’t planning on talking to you then. Good.

Not good.

Shadowheart took only a moment to wrap up another story before leaving you entirely alone.

Across the crowd, you tried to find your other friends again, casually dancing with some strangers to the music and answering redundant questions of fans.

Exhausted of all the moving around, you positioned yourself near a table, and took a break to drink some wine. 

Once the dear folk of Baldur’s gate had decided to leave you be, one noble in particular decided to finally approach you.. None other than Astarion himself.

‘’Hmm, I have to say, Darling, I’m a little disappointed you didn’t accept my gift.’’ He casually uttered without greeting you, looking you over as he grabbed a drink for himself. ‘’Wh-’’ You weren’t sure what he was referring to, before he gestured to your outfit. ‘’This is.. You are.. Hmm.’’ He stopped himself, trying to think of a better compliment. ‘’Leaving me speechless, as always. Gods- You’re beautiful, just as I remember.’’ You stare at him, freezing up. Get a hold of yourself.

‘’Oh.’’ Was all you can muster.

‘’Oh?’’

‘’..You were talking about the outfits I was offered to wear.’’

He looked to you with a brow raised, only to realise you must’ve thought he was talking about his Eternal Gift. No, no, no. That wouldn’t have been just a little disappointing. It was something he regretted not being able to give to you.. Clearly. His expression said a lot of things, but disgust was not one of them.

To avoid talking about the breakup, you tried to make conversation.

‘’Which.. One was yours? There was a lot, mind you. And you didn’t leave a letter, I would’ve known.’’

He sighed. ‘’Clearly not something to your taste,’’ He smirked. ‘’Otherwise we’d be wearing matching outfits.’’ You couldn’t tell if that was a joke or a flirt. There was a glint of entitlement in his voice.

You examined his garments, recalling the surplus of outfits you unboxed. All gifts for you to keep. A Majority of which you tossed, only to recall a particular outfit you liked being shelved for another time. ‘’..Ah. That one.’’

‘’That one? Is that all I’m getting out of you?’’ He turned his nose up, trying to hide his annoyance.

You tried to understand what he was even trying to achieve with this conversation.. His tone of speaking felt bitter, condescending at times. 

‘’Darling, you must realise by now that I am still not over you.’’ He admitted, leaning in closely.

‘’I hope you have been well.’’ He smiled gently, there was some mischief in his eyes.

What the hell are you supposed to do with that? Hug him- Kiss him- Tell him how you feel! Tell him what you want- Tell him. Tell him.

No! Don’t tell him! He said awful things. He’s not even acknowledging them- Does he know? Does he care? What the fuck is wrong with him? Walk away.. Walk away.. Please, feet.

You stayed as you were, sipping your wine, waiting for him to continue speaking as you forgot to answer his question. He sighed- Perhaps reciting something in the back of his mind. Nefarious plans? Scripts? No. They don’t work on you. You could tell when something wasn’t from the heart.

He could think of what to say for days on end, plan poetry, to win you back he had to be honest on his intentions.

‘’Tav, I want you to be with me.’’ Came from his lips, his expression changed, a softened gaze. Fearful. Anxious. For a moment your heart fluttered, and then.. ‘’As you should be. You should’ve been-’’ The possessive undertone made you take a step back.

The words fell out of your mouth before you could think.

‘’If I wasn’t ready then, why would I be now?’’

Your once so confident expression, replaced by a gloom. ‘’So forward, aren’t you? Always talking about what you want.’’ You let out a deep sigh as He grew quiet to your defiance, leaning in again.

‘’Don’t.’’ You held up your hand to keep him from getting closer. ‘’I can’t take it. I can’t.’’ Tears swell up in your eyes. ‘’You’re going to say hurtful things again, toss me aside like it doesn’t matter how I feel.’’ A deep breath.

‘’How could I consider Forever, when we were about to fight the Netherbrain? Rush into marriage? Right then and there? Astarion.. You were asking too much of me. I had things to work through. You too, I gather.’’

His posture straightened again as you stopped talking. Your eyes turned to the wall beside you. Hoping he’d walk off, hoping he’d lose interest in you. You wanted to be with him so bad, it hurt you more that he actually still wanted you.

He was considering what you were saying, puzzling it  and turning it in his head. ‘’I admit, that was wrong of me.’’ His words broke the silence. ‘’I was more afraid of losing you, and then I lost you.’’ There was a crack in his voice- his posture changed again.

Mischievous and questionable.

‘’I’m sorry, Tav.’’ His hand reached up and turned your chin to face him, wiping away a few tears with his thumb. ‘’Forgive me, Darling.’’ A faint, but sad smile coated his lips.

What you did next, he didn’t expect.. You pulled him close by his collar, about to kiss him, only to withdraw and turn away. He wrapped his arms around you with a strength you never felt before. ‘’Please, don’t make this harder than it is.’’ He pleaded, needy. ‘’I know- You don’t trust me now, but I can’t have you walk off now. Not again. I won’t.’’

You stopped squirming, accepting that his grip on you was one of desperation and not to hurt you. ‘’If you want to talk, you don’t have to corner me.’’ You replied with a hint of discomfort.

‘’This will be over soon.’’ His response concerned you, chilling. ‘’What? What’ll be over soon?’’

You raised your brows as he buried his face in your neck, feeling him grin against your exposed skin.

Maybe you should’ve picked a different outfit.. He could bite you and drain you just there and then, easily. He is a vampire lord. The damn vampire ascendant himself. You fool.

You shivered at the thought, expecting teeth in your neck any moment.

‘’Don’t worry darling, I’ve made arrangements.’’ He removed his face from the crook of your neck and stroked your cheek. His undead lungs heaved with a breath of excitement.

‘’-What? What are you saying?’’ Fear overtook you, your eyes darting around trying to find your friends. ‘’They are fine, I promise! I would never hurt them.’’ He hoped to see you calm down, loosening his grip around your waist.

In that same second, you manage to twist yourself free, so he grabs your arm and pulls you back, placing a hand to your chin to make you look him in the eye. ‘’Impero te.’’

The Charm spell takes hold, and you stop fighting him. You knew this spell. You’ve used it yourself before, many times. It was particularly useful during heists, or to get a client to stop being rough with you. You’ve had this cast on you by foes before, as invasive as it is. Yet.. This was different. You were self aware enough to notice the change. The walls.. They just fell. All the mental defences, all the reasons to push him away and run off just dropped. The pain you felt from his hurtful words ten years ago stung one more time, as you relaxed in his arms. Frozen in time, unwilling to move away from him.

Why did you say no again? His eyes look to you with sadness, before pulling you in a hug and pushing your face into his chest. He gently caresses through your hair, sighing with some sense of relief.

‘’I would never want to hurt you,’’ The guilty tone in his voice echoes as he places a kiss on your head. ‘’Just this once. Please forgive me.’’ His sadness burns through you, you touch his face affectionately on instinct.

He stops you from trying to kiss him this time. ‘’Not like this.’’ He replies. ‘’..Not like this.’’ He repeats.

You barely hear the sound of the chaos behind you, Astarion makes sure to cover your eyes with his embrace when he notices it. The charm makes you focussed on all those feelings you pushed aside the past ten years.. Gods.. Ten years since he last held you. Ten years since you kissed.

As obsessed with you as he was, he refused to take advantage of you with the spell.

He only used it to restrain you from running off, no matter how much of your bottled feelings came spilling out. 

You held onto him tightly, your fingers entangled in his fine garments. Some of the strings of embroidery had come loose from how deep your fingers dug into the fabric.

‘’My sweet, come.’’ His arms guided you to walk with him into a different direction, still making sure you could not see what was happening.

His grip then tightened a little, firm- but gently, aware the spell was starting to wane. He could cast it again of course, to make it last longer. He hesitated. Once the spell ended, he could likely not do it as effectively again.. He was thinking about it.. Too late.

‘’Harpers!’’ You expected Jaheira’s voice, but it was someone else. Likely one of their high ranking members. Dead bodies were scattered over the floor. Bodies of all sorts of people- on closer look- guards, nobles, people you didn’t expect Harpers to attack.

Vampire Spawn. These people were slain Vampire Spawn.

How many of the guests- All this time.. Were Astarion’s sleeper agents? You lost count, at the very least your friends were not among the bodies. Astarion may have done something to make them leave the building because you struggled to find them before.

The look on his face already told you what you needed to know: This was not part of his plan. The harpers had come to snuff him out. And they were failing- The battle was primarily overwhelmed by the amount of people on Astarion’s side.

Not once did they manage to get close. Astarion protectively guided you towards the exit, followed by The watch which at this point was obviously mostly made up of Vampire Spawn.

‘’You organised this party, didn’t you?’’ You questioned, allowing him to drag you along this time willingly. ‘’Why?’’

‘’This wasn’t the plan..’’ He mumbled something, cursed too, not answering. You tried to stop him from moving further. ‘’You want me to trust you? Talk. Use your words, Astarion! Use your fucking words!’’ Your anger was bursting through, rightfully so.

‘’You came either way, didn’t you?’’ Astarion’s response was a flat confession of truth.

As you stared into his eyes with the storm of emotions boiling through your own, his wicked smile turned to discomfort as an arrow found its way into his shoulder. As the Vampire Ascendant, he quickly discarded it, waiting for the wound to close up right away.

It didn’t heal. Shit.

‘’Godsdammnit-’’ He was about to curse some more, you pressed your hands to the wound to stop the bleeding. ‘’Let’s just go-’’ Without much else to say he lifted you up, shielded by his spawn who were fending off the Harpers. 

The harpers weren’t winning, but he did take a good hit. The arrow must've been laced with holy water or something to keep him from healing. Necrotic damage? Illmater’s arrows? His blood coated your hands.

Certainly he was strong enough to walk off such a blow. It did hurt him, he was not immune to pain. Your panic rose even if he remained calm and firm, carrying you out of the building followed by a horde of regular looking people all swarming around you. 

Gods.. He has been busy. The entire city must’ve been made of mostly spawn and loyal followers. Wherever your friends were- He found a good enough distraction for them not to notice this chaos.

The fight for the escape continued, leading back through the Basilisk gate, and making a way through suspiciously empty streets. Straight towards his crimson palace, only to stop at an alleyway and be guided into what seems to be secretly constructed tunnels.

‘’Urgh.’’ Astarion gritted his sharp teeth, the bleeding stopped, but it definitely hurt, even as it healed slowlier than it should. ‘’I Should’ve planned more, Harpers have no respect for romantics.. Oh Dear.’’ 

A group of Harpers found their way in, fighting the watch while Astarion focussed on keeping you safe in his arms. It bothered you,  he refused to put you down.

‘’YOU!’’ A loud voice echoed, followed by the loud battle screams of other Harpers. It was Rion, Jaheira’s adopted daughter. ‘’This is all your fault!’’

You looked to Astarion, questioning what he had done.. His face contorted in anger. ‘’I have warned you once. She became too nosy. I gave you a choice, Rion. Now I’m going to have to kill you. I’ll be quick, I am not as cruel as you think.’’

‘’A little pity party to get back with the hero of Baldur's gate? How cute.’’ Rion looked to you, then back to him. ‘’Oh no, I didn’t come here for you, most Gracious Vampire lord. I blame him. For you.’’

Rion drew her weapon, fearless. Surrounded with the remainder of her harpers. You did not recognise them, but they just voiced blaming you for Astarion… Yes. Because of you, Astarion was in the position he was in. Because of you, Rion and her band walked happily to their deaths.. To do what exactly? Revenge? Jaheira is probably dead, that would explain these events.

You questioned if you cared, you were living your life happily all this time even when alone..

Now these people were after your life. And they would come after you even if you escaped.

Getting lost amidst your thoughts, the fight continued. Unable to move from your position to help, without weapons and wearing flimsy thin party clothes. It was already stained by Astarion’s blood, getting torn as Astarion pulled you from side to side while fighting off his enemies with his other hand wielding a rapier.

You managed to get a few cuts on you here and there, as he killed them off one by one with ease, even without the help of his spawn.

Silence.

Astarion huffed, his eyes Feral, holding you firmly. The clothes you were so proud of were mostly torn, the cape was gone, the scraps of the top was only supported by your waist band. ‘’..I feel naked.’’ You murmured, processing everything.

Astarion then let you go, watching you cover your exposed skin with your arms, rubbing the chill away. The tunnels are cold and dead as are the bodies of the dead harpers and vampire spawn.

‘’There’s no going back from here, it seems.’’ You spoke, turning your heel, examining the tunnel distance. Astarion’s disgruntled, stressed expression scanned over you.

‘’Their blood is on my hands, as much as it is on yours.’’ Not literally of course, the only blood on your hands was whatever would pour from his flesh wound earlier.

Any other saintly person would scream murderer at him, but not you. You were a criminal before you were a hero. You’ve done heinous things yourself in the past and the present, perhaps this was karma at work.

‘’What was your plan?’’ You asked, trying to distract him from the chaos.

‘’To sweep your delicate self off your feet and take you out to dine,’’ Astarion sighed. ‘’One last attempt.. I set up this treasure hunt to get everyone else away from you, portalled them all the way to Waterdeep. Meticulous planning that depended on you coming at all.’’ There’s a slight dishonesty in his tone. Had it gone the way he wanted, he might’ve bitten you after managing to get you in his bed again. Without asking if he could. 

Knowing yourself, you probably would have accepted the date eventually, laying down all your defences. The charm spell he used earlier didn’t fully take hold of you, it just reminded you of how you felt about him, erasing the pain that kept you away. There was a breath of relief in your mind, acceptance.

‘’Perhaps you should’ve just done it rather than ask.’’ As you say this, you see it greatly upsets him, knowing what you meant instead. 

‘’No.. I should have never said I’d ruin your love. This is on me. I wanted to give you everything Tav, I wasn’t in control of my emotions.’’ His frustration with himself and forcing out his own confessions hurt whatever instinctive pride was in his veins.

The bodies of the guards and harper’s stench finally reached your noise, making you lose balance.

 ‘’I can be patient, If I have to be.. Even if I can’t stand it. For you- My treasure. My darling.’’ He caught you as you stumbled back in his arms. Humming happily and rubbing his face against your head. ‘’Little love-’’

A sting of pain and a sensation of warmth leaving your chest.. You look up to see Astarion look in terror.

He’s been stabbed in the back by a blade, a half dead Rion holds it, shaky, weakly. ‘’Fuck. You.’’ Is all she can muster before she drops down with a final breath. Still- That is not the cause of his shock.

The blade connected you two, while Astarion would easily recover from the new wound.. You would not. His cold blood streamed right into yours, numbing you. 

Would this turn you..?

Your sight blurs, and your mind slowly fades to the death thrums of your heart. Faint sounds of sobbing and screaming ring through your ears. As Astarion pulls you close.

The next time you regain consciousness, you feel even colder. A weight is hanging over you. You twitch, trying to gather what is happening.. Your eyes refuse to function. You can tell that you are lying on a bed, still wearing the same ruined party clothes. Astarion is on top of you.

There’s a sting on your shoulder, neck, as well as your wrist. The blurred image of Astarion holding your wrist  affectionately comes into vision. You barely feel his teeth in your skin when the delirium begins to set in again.

‘’Astarion..’’ Your words slur. ‘’..I love you..’’ 

Your vision starts fading once more alongside all sensation.

When you return to the waking world, you’ll forgive his transgressions, accepting his dark kiss.

[angelsmist]

WAR OF HEARTS

prompt: your sister, princess afia and princess shuri had been placed into an arranged marriage. this did not work in your favor, because of your secret feelings towards shuri. soon, it grew into hatred, and you and shuri could barely be in the same room without some type of argument ensuing. but, that tension’s gotta be released somehow…

contains: sexual themes, cursing, kinda ooc shuri (?)

authors note: i swear i’m not capable of one-shots like i’m always making a series 😭 this don’t gotta be a series but just lmk if you guys would like more and get specific 🧘🏾‍♀️

also this is heavily inspired by bridgerton because i started binging and got obsessed w anthony and kate and their TENSIONNN.

got a lil carried away w this one 🤭

you adjusted your dress, shifting in your seat uncomfortably. you were getting quite sick of these out-of-the-blue dinners.

your nation, seynyti was currently in the process of forming some sort of alliance with wakanda. the two nations had lived in peace with one another for many, many centuries. it made sense, seeing as both of the kingdoms were private and closed off from the world, but not secret. but to seal the deal, your sister, princess afia and princess shuri were arranged a marriage.

this had been decided about a year ago. there wasn’t any immediate action to start the wedding, as both of the rulers of the nations wanted a proper proposal. though, there was yet to be one.

your parents believed it was because your sister and shuri wanted to take your time. but truthfully, neither of them could feel much for the other. this marriage was for the sake of their country, and thankfully, they had their nation’s best interest at heart. it was a good agreement, and everyone should’ve been at the very least satisfied.

keyword “should’ve”. you were terribly miserable.

before the idea of your sister marrying shuri was proposed, you two were best friends. like, inseparable. you both bonded over the fact that the two of you were scientists. it was refreshing to have someone your age understand half of the things you talked about. it only made sense that you’d eventually grow feelings for her. you kept quiet about it, though, fearful of what the outcome would be.

it was too late now, anyway.

when you found out about this arranged marriage, you slowly began to resent shuri. and the love you once had for her soon turned to bitterness. at least that’s what you had told yourself.

the both of you had gone from being attached to the hip to having an attitude whenever you’d have to be in a room together. you felt guilty for ruining your friendship with her, but you feared that you’d put the marriage in jeopardy if you remained close with the princess.

so, you convinced yourself that you hated the princess. shuri slowly began to return the attitude. she was hurt by your sudden switch-up, but she refused to show the effects it had on her.

honestly, all it did was build up tension. the hateful eye contact that had just pinches of love in it, the constant bickering, the disagreements. the list could go on. you and shuri had so many unsaid words, that it drove you crazy. hence, why you couldn’t bear to even be in a room with her.

you didn’t have a choice this time, though. your parents had scheduled a dinner with the family of wakanda for a reason that you did not know of.

the dress your mother picked out for you made you feel slightly overdressed. it was a navy blue bodycon dress that happened to capture your curves, even the ones you preferred not to display at a family dinner.

it matched nicely with your golden collar necklace, as well as your earrings that were made with vibranium, a gift given to you by shuri herself before all of the marriage plans went down.

you had been fiddling with an earring unintentionally, attracting shuri’s attention from across the table. you felt her brown orbs burning into your skin. instinctively, you locked eyes with her. a sly grin washed over her features when she noticed your choice in jewelry. not wanting to give her the satisfaction of making you melt under her gaze, you maintained eye contact. it stayed like that until your sister, afia, tapped on shuri’s shoulder to gain her attention. still, her head moved towards afia’s face, but her eyes stayed on you for just a few seconds before averting your gaze completely.

“your dress looks lovely,” nakia complimented next to you. a smile tugged at your lips from her words.

“thank you, nakia. you look stunning as well. i see your matching outfit with t’challa. it’s beautiful,” you complimented, momentarily looking at what the king wore.

your mother used this as an opportunity to bring attention to afia and shuri. “speaking of matching outfits, we should try to get you two to match more.”

unintentionally, you let out a giggle at the idea of afia and shuri matching outfits. it worked for nakia and t’challa, but you knew if they tried it, they’d look like complete dorks.

your short laugh was loud enough for only those at the table to hear. they stared at you expectantly, thinking you’d say something to explain yourself.

shuri spoke before you could mutter an apology, wanting to add fuel to the fire. “did i miss a joke? i’d like to laugh.”

“oh, sorry. i just coughed,” you lied, attempting to keep your face neutral since all eyes were on you. “it wasn’t a laugh.”

for some reason, that still wasn’t enough for shuri. “good. maybe you could match with someone as well. all you have to do is find someone that can tolerate you for longer than five minutes.”

this wasn’t anything new. as disrespectful as it seemed to say, everyone was perfectly aware of you and shuri’s constant bickering. that’s why most of the time they try to keep you two at a distance. but when it came to dinners like these, an argument was unavoidable. everyone liked to brush it off as a joke in hopes of deescalating the situation.

“shuri!” queen ramonda scolded, narrowing her eyes at her daughter.

“it’s okay, queen ramonda,” you dismissed politely, stirring up a combination of words to fire back at the princess. “shuri’s right, if we’re being honest.”

the younger udaku stared at you in shock. “am i?”

“yes,” you confirmed, nodding. you stuck your fork into a piece of chicken and picked at it. “you’re very lucky you had your spouse picked out for you. if that hadn’t happened, you probably wouldn’t have found anybody for at least another ten years.”

there it was. not your best comeback, but it was enough to light some kind of fire in her.

shuri set her fork down. “okay. i’d like to talk to princess (name) for a second outside.”

your brother finally spoke after being silently occupied with the jollof rice. “please, go ahead. we are tired of your bickering.”

your mother gave him a look that told him to stay quiet, but it was easy to tell that she did not disagree with him.

“fine,” you complied, rising from your chair as shuri did the same.

once the two exited the great hall and were out of view from the rest of the family, shuri forcefully dragged you into a smaller room that look as if it were meant for two. it had a fireplace that happened to be one, along with two seats around it.

you shook off shuri’s grasp, the anger evident in your face. “you better not give me shit. you’re the one who started it this time.”

“only because you embarrassed me last week in the lab,” she retorted, making sure to to lock the door behind her.

“i was just correctly your calculations. you’re welcome, by the way,” you sarcastically spoke. “it’s not my fault that you’re not as smart as me.”

“and it’s not my fault that all your manners suddenly disappear when i enter a room.”

you crossed your arms over your chest, your eyes drifting over to the fireplace that lit up the room. shuri moved from the door and walked close enough to you to the point where you’d probably have to look up a bit to meet her eyes.

when your gaze shifted back to her face, you realized her eyes were no longer on yours. rather, slightly below them. turns out, crossing your arms in a dress that already showed enough cleavage would only push them up more. and as it seems, it was a enough to catch the princess’s attention.

you quickly realized what her gaze was stuck on, and a smirk appeared on your lips. “my eyes are up here, princess.”

your words snapped her out of the state she was in, and when your facials registered in her mind, her irritation grew even more. you loved it.

“are you aware of how annoying you are?” she inquired, playing off what had taken place merely seconds ago. “you actually drive me insane.”

you simply just raised your eyebrows at her question, displaying sarcasm.

when shuri didn’t say anything else, you took it upon yourself to end the conversation. “if that’s all.”

you took a few steps so you could go past shuri and to the door, but when you began to pass her, you felt something, or someone stop you.

your orbs looked downwards to see one of shuri’s hands on your waist to keep you from moving any further.

“princess shuri,” you said firmly. “let me go.”

you finally looked away from her hand that was still on your waist, and back to her.

you two were much closer now, and the height difference didn’t help either.

“so formal.” she clicked her tongue, looking away from your for only a second to shake her head.

“shuri,” you repeated. “let.me.go.”

she lowered her head to reach yours as you lifted your head up to meet in the middle. she brought her lips to your ear, making your breath hitch in your throat. “and if i don’t want to?”

you stayed completely still. if you even moved an inch, chances are, your lips would at the very least brush over shuri’s. and you weren’t sure what would’ve happened next.

it hadn’t dawned to you how much tension had built up between the two of you until now. it sucked, because you were fighting every bone in your body to refrain from pouncing.

you could hear the arrogance dripping from shuri’s words as she spoke. “you know, when i told you that you drive me crazy, i meant in more ways than one.”

you let out a shaky breath, moving your head to the side to look shuri in the eye. you inched your head backwards to avoid any contact of her lips, but her head chased yours slightly. you realized the side of your nose was in contact with hers.

you couldn’t help it. your orbs flickered down to the princess’ lips that were barely centimeters from yours. by the time you caught yourself staring, shuri had already noticed, hence the growing grin on her face.

“we should…we should head…back.” your words came out breathy and just a bit unclear. you seriously, seriously couldn’t help it. you found every part of you craving her more than anything. images flashed in your mind. the kind of images that one should not think of. especially not with your sister’s future wife.

shuri placed herself in a place where her lips just hovered over yours. and just when you thought they’d touch, she pulled back.

“you’re right,” she stated, dropping her hand from your waist. “we should.”

she looked more than pleased with herself as she walked away from you and exited the room.

you stood there for about a minute, dumbfounded. did that actually just happen? was that a mindfuck?

regardless, both you and shuri knew that she had won the battle for tonight. but like they always say, the war was far from over.

[iremiari]

Daydreams || A Dead Boy Detectives Ficlet

A journalist interviews Charles and Edwin, asking how they would feel if Season 2 got cancelled. aka: the time i got too carried away making incorrect quotes (hence this fic being mostly dialogue), so have this really short ficlet of them!! Also yes, they technically broke the 4th wall during this entire thing.

Edwin and Charles are sitting on chairs, sitting in front of a white backdrop - much like those you see in interviews. Because they were in an interview, and by the looks of it, it was almost about to end.

One of the news reporters have given Charles and Edwin a question: How would they feel if they didn't get renewed for Season 2?

"Nonsense." Edwin reacts almost immediately. "It is imperative that we get renewed for Season 2. I must," he composes himself, "I must hear Charles tell me he loves me."

Charles, next to him, raises an eyebrow, and looks at Edwin with a smile, "Oh, and you're certain about that, yeah?"

"Well, no. But one could infer that-"

A little peck had landed on Edwin's lips.

Charles has just kissed Edwin, and the two boys look at each other. Charles is the first to speak.

"'Cause you're right. I do. I am in love with you."

Edwin just looks at him, stunned. Charles, charming as he is, gives him a topic to go off of.

"But keep going. I love hearing you talk about whatever's on your mind."

Edwin tries to speak, but he cannot seem to focus with what just happened and how casual Charles is treating this situation. All that comes out of his mouth is a series of mumbles and stutters, "I- there is-- I am… speechless."

"Aw," Charles smiles, "luckily, that isn't a problem."

He kisses him again, way more intense than the small peck he gave him earlier. They wrap their hands around each other's head, and continue. For Charles, it felt like a dream come true. He had been waiting to say that for a long time and--

"Right, Charles?" a voice says, interrupting whatever Charles was imagining.

"Huh, yeah, what?"

Turned out it was a dream. A daydream, anyway.

"Clearly, you got distracted again." Edwin gave a sigh - not one of disappointment, though. Maybe Charles was just imagining it, but it sounded like... a sigh of adoration.

"Anyway, I was telling these journalists just now that if our show does not get renewed for another season, then it would be highly devastating - for both us, the agency and the viewers at home."

"Oh," Charles collects himself, "Oh yeah, now you got me. I totally agree."

He looks at the camera. "I think a lot of people are... excited to see where our story leads, especially like- especially considering all the different narratives in store for us."

He ends with a chuckle, and turns to Edwin, smiling. "Also, sorry for zoning out there, mate. Won't happen again. Promise."

"We shall see about that." Edwin said to him with a coy smile, hiding his delight, before turning his attention to the journalists in front of them.

"Would that be all for you lovely people today? Charles and I do still have a lot of work to get done."

"Certainly, Mr. Payne and Mr. Rowland. Thank you for your time."

The news reporter looks through their notes as Charles and Edwin walk out of the set, looking very satisfied with the outcome of the interview.

[hitomisuzuya]

Hii this is my second request and I was wondering if you could do a nsfw Childe x Fem! Reader? I had an idea that the reader would be in denial about the way he makes you feel but he knows how to make you weak under his touch. Of course the reader ends up caving in to their desires. The whole time he’d call the reader weak or pathetic for giving into the tension.

Childe x fem!reader. Smut.

a/n: Childeeeee❤️ I got you covered. I hope you enjoy and thank you for being so patient.

"Look at you, I am barely even touching you," Childe laughed. He had you pressed up against the wall, enjoying the way your hands were shaking as they groped around on his body, not being able to decide where to put them.

You were just that flustered.

Earlier, you had given Childe that look again. The one that was so painful for him to watch. He had to admit though, the commitment to your denial about his feelings for you was admirable.

Love was like war to Childe. Chaotic and loud. Exhilarating. Spine tingling with adrenaline. It wasn't just love giving him these spontaneous feelings. It you. You thrilled him in a way no one ever could've.

And watching you squirm was all the more satisfying to him.

"It's very pathetic. The look on your face always shows such weakness. Weakness that a man like me would jump on in a second," Childe's hands roamed over your figure, settling on your hips. An intimate place he purposely chose just to see your reaction.

"Weakness, what are you talking about?" You bit your lip to keep from moaning. You were determined to stick by your principles. You had feelings for Childe. Strong ones. But you had way too much pride to give into your desires.

"This," he replied, his lips hovering over yours, his fingers kneading into your hips. You twitched, nearly moaning. Childe smirked. You were starting to crack. He knew he could clench victory anytime he wanted. "It's like your body says yes, but your pretty mouth says no. It's the weakest display of emotion I have ever seen."

You grit your teeth, making an attempt to push him away. Childe grabbed your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours, pining your hand against the wall next to your head. You started to shake your head, but Childe curled his fingers underneath your jaw, getting more aggressive with his advances.

"Say it," He said, his hand roughly groping one of your breasts, his other hand going to grip of your hips, pulling against him just so he could press you back up against the wall by grinding into you. "Say it and make it easier on yourself."

You looked away, thinking if you couldn't see Childe then this wasn't happening. You weren't struggling to push him away. In fact, Childe would question whether you realized that your body was responding to him.

He took this as consent and it was.

Childe unbuttoned your pants and dipped his hand to press his fingers against your dampening panties. He shivered. "This is the biggest tell of all. The more I touch you, the wetter you get. Now say it. Tell me you always wanted me. It's this kind of weakness I enjoy."

A big crack appeared in your foundation. Childe practically saw it shatter into a thousand pieces. He pushed your panties aside, finally making you cry out for him as he pushed two fingers inside. "Good girl, now say my name instead. Your pussy is begging you to. Don't worry, the outcome was going to be the same, you would've been mine anyways."

His name died on your lips, Bucking your hips into his fingers, your grabbed his jaw and leaned in, stopping just long enough to say, "How about you make me scream it all night instead," you kissed him.

And it was a relief for you to finally cave.

[thegamingcatmom]

You asked for Miranda asks and so I deliver.

How would Miranda react to MC who hates birds? Like is genuinely terrified of them? Would it be a deal breaker or would Miranda help MC with her fear?

-💙

Hi Frosty! 💙

AND YES I THANK YOU FOR SATISFYING MY CRAVING. 🙏

I absolutely love that ask btw. 🥰

LET´S DIVE IN!

Okay so, it is crucial to understand that, once you´re chosen by Divinity itself, you´re pretty much done for. Miranda isn´t easily deterred (if at all), especially not by someone who "only" fears her.

I mean...fear is basically her daily bread is what I´m saying. It´s the norm for her, lol.

With that said: No, it wouldn´t be a deal breaker at all. But I also don´t think there would be all that much "help" from Miranda either. It´s not that she´s overly mean or cruel about it (she has her moments though), but rather just...indifferent? I´d say? Like, MC´s gonna live with her whether she likes it or not, and Miranda has all the time in the world. Literally. (Perks of being immortal.)

Birb Mama´s just gonna "sit it out," really. She has no problem keeping herself busy with her work until MC comes around, given how that´s basically all she´s been doing before MC was forced came to live with her anyway. She´s incredibly patient if she believes the outcome worth her while - her tireless work to bring back Eva only proves that.

The most likely thing to happen would probs be Miranda keeping her distance for a (long) while with MC slowly but surely going mad because there´s nobody else to talk to except the very personification of her fears. Miranda makes sure of that. MC will have to overcome this part of herself if she ever wants to engage in a conversation again. Or, yknow, just lead a somewhat normal life in general.

So ye, Miranda´s basically going to deprive MC of any and all contact (which she would´ve done regardless of whether MC was terrified of birds, let´s be honest) - including herself - until our girl sees no other option but to seek that contact. However-

(Here comes the "wholesome" part, lol.)

I do think that Miranda keeping her distance would be both because she wants to "steer MC onto the right path," if you catch my drift (emotional manipulation at its finest), but also because she genuinely doesn´t want to frighten her any more than she already is. I mean...what good would that do for her? It would only delay a process that´s already incredibly tedious to begin with, and even someone as patient as Miranda can´t hold back her...affections forever. She´s already struggling as it is. 🫠

On another note though:

Miranda´s paradoxical behavior is a major part of what makes her so alluring (to me). Like, that woman is patient enough to wait well over a century for the one, but not patient enough to help them overcome their fears, lol. She´s someone who needs the right motivation to get her system running, and I feel that deeply down to my core. 😭

.

.

.

Thanks a lot for your ask! I really enjoyed that deep dive! 💋

[sasubaeuchithot]

Thoughts on naruto antis? I've seen a lot of sasuke stans hate on naruto, saying that he's barely better than sakura, and it always leaves me with such a bad taste in my mouth?

I'd never say that naruto and his ideals are beyond criticism, as dear as he is to me. That'd be foolish.

But it just. Rubs me the wrong way when naruto is made out to be some sort of horrible selfish bad guy that wanted to control sasuke

(im ignoring anything beyond chapter 699 for my sanity because both naruto and sasuke got seriously messed up after that im still horrified 😮‍💨😮‍💨)

i mean, people are allowed to anti as long as they anti away from the character tags and shit, so for antis themselves I don't really mind them lol. i do think they very badly misjudge his character, but i can understand them calling him a bootlicker and whatnot- especially with how they concluded the series. but naruto at his core has shown me that he's too ready to break rules for his own morals to truly be a konoha bootlicker.

from day one we see naruto undermining authority and rejecting the notion of leaving the people he loves behind for his village. when he chooses to side with the village, it's because he sees the village as all individual people that he cares about. he wants what's best for everyone, and he's determined to always find an outcome to make everyone happy, even if that notion is inherently idealistic and impossible to actually achieve in nature. but goddammit is he going to strive for it anyway, because that's what he views as right.

in the end, naruto's radical idealism is the perfect balance to sasuke's radical realism. I believe they both need each other to find the answer to the shinobi world's problems. sasuke had given up hope on the good in people while naruto is blind to the bad in them. both are one-dimensional ways to think of a person and lack the depth that people need to be truly understood.

i think the problem with naruto that i would agree with from antis lies in that last sentence's use of past and present tenses. sasuke HAD given up while naruto IS blind. we don't get to see naruto truly be balanced back out the way we saw happen with sasuke. that is a narrative mistake with the way kishimoto ended the series (and the way the sequel continued without acknowledging needed to happen). the series ends with sasuke realizing that ✨🦋🌸humanity is worth saving and even people who did bad things can still be good🌸🦋✨ without letting naruto truly see that some people are beyond saving and the ideals they hold should be eradicated before they infect more people. kishi chose to redeem nearly every single antagonist, choosing the final big boss to be some random bitch we weren't introduced to until the story's fucking eleventh hour. that he made an alien. so naruto didn't have to face his own morality because she wasn't human so like it's fine to lock her away for all eternity in a big fucking rock. so i get people who don't like naruto for being upset that we got to see sasuke's views be swayed by him without getting a truly satisfying parallel from naruto in turn that would justify sasuke's morals shifting.

anyways, as always, i blame shippuden's ending

[windvexer]

Hi chicken!

I had a question about energy work, how do you know when it actually happened?

I’ve been practicing trying to charge incense with intention and my own energy. I definitely feel something coursing through me and into the incense when I do this but is feeling it enough to know it worked? If not, how can I determine it was actually successful?

Thank you in advance!!!

Hi!

Charged to what purpose?

Broadly speaking we can charge/imbue energy for verifiable and nonverifiable purposes.

Consider charging incense so it generally is more strong in any given spell. This is maybe tough to verify because each spell probably has its own variables that could also effect the outcome.

On the other hand you can charge incense to provide a specific, discrete effect that occurs when you burn it - absent of other spellwork.

An example might be charging incense with a heavy, deadening Earthen energy that makes people sleepy and lumpish when they're in the room.

As compared to noncharged incense, does your charged incense make people sleepy?

Another way to tell is whether or not the activity of charging drains you or otherwise uses up your personal resources.

Are you more mentally or physically fatigued afterwords? Do you get hungrier later that day, or suddenly need to drink lots of water? Do you need extra sleep on days when you practice charging? Does the charging activity use up all your spoons?

Cues like these can be very personal and not all of them apply to everyone. An "energy sun" may be able to channel huge amounts of energy without necessarily feeling weary.

Try using something like a bullet journal to track fatigue factors, with special attention to days when you practice energy work and charging exercises. Also try charging incense directly for a purpose and seeing if that purpose works.

Also try setting up experiments when possible - does using your charged incense lend a satisfied, complete feeling to spellwork, whereas uncharged incense makes you feel like something is missing?

[vanmarkus]

NEWBIE WHY'D YOU PUT THAT OUT IN THE UNIVERSE 🫣🫣🫣

NO FEAR -> (1) FEAR

I AM TERRIFIED OKAY?! but it would make for some delicious drama I can't lie... Gerrard coming back and Tommy possibly (hopefully) staying on for the beginning of season 8, while everyone who worked under Gerrard has grown and became more confident and accomplished... only to be treated like that again? to see how they'd deal with it? to see Buck not long after coming out deal with it? to potentially see Ravi having to deal with it?

it's gonna drive me up the wall, because Gerrard is disgusting and I cannot stand injustice BUT the dynamic, the banding together, the "we already knew how it goes and now the rest of you will find out as well" of it all... it could be very interesting and could have a very satisfying outcome if done right.

what I would also love to see, though given his age and just generally how plausible it is... for Gerrard to have changed. like, maybe he turned a corner and knows better now? and that would be a bitter pill to swallow for everyone he hurt and Buck who has never been anything but a masculine cishet white guy in anyone else's eyes to be confused about it... cuz isn't that a good thing? people doing better and growing? isn't that what you want?

and then Hen and Chim, and Tommy even, having to explain how dealing with his ways for years affected them, how people should do better and grow, yes, but that doesn't mean you have to forgive them or want them in your life. just like when Tatiana came back and she was doing great and she realised how shitty she was being... it didn't do anything to make Chim feel better, because it didn't actually help him or what happened between them in any way.

okay this went long, but the point is: it would be jarring and hard to watch, but I'd be sooo here for it, actually.

[eridanidreams]

WIP Whenever/Textual Thursday

This is a side jaunt in the universe of stars through my fingers like grains of sand. It takes place sometime in 2312.

"C-12 isn't a stable enough genome," the first voice insisted. "C-13 and C-7 were much more suitable candidates—"

"Yes," said the second voice. "And look how well they turned out."

C-13 and C-7 had both disappeared a few weeks ago; the girl eavesdropping knew that much. She also knew that when people disappeared, they didn't come back. They—the two men discussing her own fate—were responsible, had done something. Another experiment. In her experience, 'experiment' meant "Dr. Reg is going to do something to us and see what happens." Sometimes those experiments were as small as changing the way they ate; other times… other times they got sick. And then they went away.

The girl knew she'd probably be in trouble if Dr. Reg caught her eavesdropping on him, but she didn't like what she'd been sensing from him. Impatient. Speculative. Whatever he had planned for her, she needed to know—before she ended up like her clone-sibs: dead… or worse.

"That's the unfortunate nature of experiments," Dr. Reg retorted. "Even under the best conditions, one cannot fully predict the outcome." She heard him stomping back and forth; the cold of his anger seeped into her even through the door. "Given the conditions that actually apply—I warned you of the potential impact."

The second voice was even colder, if that was possible. "Whatever you may think of Neon, it's the best site we currently have for the program as the political situation currently stands."

"Neon," Dr. Reg sneered. "Freestar Collective. Their precious capital city still hasn't bothered to pave their own streets."

"Which," the second voice sounded bored, "is why you're not in Akila City. Neon's megacorps are technologically sophisticated enough that you should have no problem acquiring the hardware that you need, and morally bankrupt enough that they won't care where you come from so long as they can profit from it."

"Save for the fact that I'm spending two-thirds of the budget on security so those morally-bankrupt megacorps don't simply steal the work out from under us," Dr. Reg snapped.

"No," now the second voice sounded amused, "you're spending budget on security so the people from whom you stole your current line of research don't retrieve it with extreme prejudice. And while I admire your initiative, I simply can't allocate more funds to you right now. Nor, am I afraid, are we in a position to refresh the clone lines." The amusement disappeared, replaced by a bitter hate. "My enemies in the government were… proactive… in destroying the labs."

The sound of Dr. Reg's footsteps stopped; the girl shivered in time with his shock. "That's—you're telling me that C-12 is the last? The very last?"

"Indeed." The hate in the second voice was gone as if it had never existed. "Frankly, at this point, whether the program is a success or not is irrelevant. We certainly cannot use it to support the current administration."

"Then—what do we do?" Dr. Reg was close to panic; the girl was, too, but for different reasons. "We've invested too much in this project to simply quit!"

"Do not allow the fallacy of the sunken cost to blind you to the realities of the situation, Reginald." The girl wasn't fond of Dr. Reg sometimes, but she really hated the other man. "The program is ending, one way or another. The best way forward is to finalize the experiment on C-12. Whatever the outcome, the data will be useful when we are in a position to rebuild."

"C-12… the problem isn't just the stability of the genome. I have concerns about her psychological suitability, as well. She's… soft." Dr. Reg all but sneered the last word, and the girl had to fight down the desire to go in there and kick him in the goolies. Which would be temporarily satisfying, but would ruin all her careful preparations. Nor did she want to be actually noticed by the empty-voiced man. He scared her. "It would be better to simply adopt her out, monitor from a distance. We can easily pass her off as a war orphan."

"And, what, breed her?" the man sneered right back. "Even had we not engineered them to be sterile, the non-human genomic inclusions would ensure it. No. My daughter was also 'soft'," he added dismissively. "The war hardened her up sufficiently. Should C-12 survive the initial surgery, we have ways to insure that she will be as 'hard' as necessary." There was a pause. "And genomic stability aside, her empathic potential is the highest of the C-line."

"Well… that is true…" Whatever else the man's contempt had done, it had shaken Dr. Reg out of being angry and into a more thoughtful mood. And while the girl could appreciate the relief from his anger, Dr. Reg was most dangerous when he was contemplative. "Failures or not, we learned a great deal from the last two. C-7, in particular, gave us valuable feedback. The neural amplification in the last revision was too… robust. The new implant prototype should be available within the next 48 hours."

"Good." A note of avarice entered the other man's voice. "Have you had any success in identifying the source of the amplifier?"

"No." Dr. Reg sounded just as disappointed. "My source is dead—found floating near one of the piers, half-eaten by chasmbass. Undoubtedly an assassination, but she covered her tracks well enough that I wasn't able to find out where she'd stolen it from."

"A pity. Well, you have your orders."

The girl heard the faint click of the connection ending, followed by Dr. Reg's savage mutter, "One of these days, Admiral, you'll give an order to the wrong person, and you'll be a dead man in truth." The satisfaction that rolled off him at the thought made her want to scrub her skin raw. She'd heard enough—she fled back to the sleeping quarters. 48 hours wasn't a long time, and she had an escape to plan.

[strixcattus]

The Official Comprehensive Princess Rankings

I posted yesterday about the complexity of the official Princess-ranking poll and how I felt it had a couple weaknesses in its format. As of right now... I still haven't submitted my response. I'm thinking that writing this post up will cement the rankings, and then I can send them in.

I'm considering several factors in the rankings, and I'm weighing both how much I like the Princess and how much I like the chapter she's found within. A good narrative will boost a Princess I'm indifferent to, and an emotional attachment to the Princess will cause me to rank a chapter higher than another I find equally narratively-respectable. Since the poll talks about things in terms of Princesses, my liking towards a Princess will generally outweigh my liking towards a chapter's narrative.

Specifically, the things I'm primarily considering are: —Liking of the Princess, both on an emotional level and on a more cognitive, "I enjoy teasing apart what makes her tick" or "I can appreciate the existence of this character" level. On the emotional level, like outweighs dislike—but having any feelings about a Princess, even if they're negative, is an indication that they're sticking with me somehow, so the worst a Princess can do on this level is for me to be entirely indifferent towards her. —How fun or exciting the chapter is to play out. —How much I feel the chapter's narrative to be satisfying, or to say something interesting about the narrative around it. —How much the Princess or the chapter generally made an impact on me. This one isn't quite as explicable as the others—it's just a general impression or bias that's hard to put into words.

Some chapters have been split in two. I already said my piece about the Wounded vs. Networked Wild (though I'll be explaining each ranking here as well). In addition, there are two Chapter IIIs with significant differences based on the Voice you get in them—Den and EOTN. Each of these chapters has two different "success" outcomes and a "failure" outcome—and I'll be splitting them accordingly, since I find some of their narratives to be more satisfying than others.

The Greys, on the other hand, have been merged, because I don't see a significant difference between them. Nor do I particularly between the Damsel and the Deconstructed Damsel, but I'm still splitting them up because it gives me an excuse to talk about what the latter actually is. The Razor chapters do have a significant distinction, but since my only difference in opinion between the two is because of the Voices present, I'm leaving them together.

Without further ado, the List:

The Witch At any given moment there are only two Princesses I am liable to be rotating in my mind, so obviously they're cemented for top two. Witch wins out over Razor because I find the narrative of her chapter to be more fun, interesting, and complex.

The Razor I don't have much more to say about her specifically. She's a fun character.

The Den (flight) I don't much care for fighting the Den—though I think it's likely this will change post–Pristine Cut. Fleeing her, though, leads to a moment of sympathy at the end that I particularly enjoy—as you might have been able to guess, I like her narrative on this path. Admittedly, her high position here is due in large part to emotional attachment... which is all entwined in the "flight" ending, so the "fight/fail" endings don't get the boost.

The Wounded Wild I have a marked dislike for the Networked Wild and, by extension, most of the Wild chapter—but I'll get to that when it's relevant. The Wounded Wild, on the other hand, I feel has a very satisfying narrative when you choose to cut her free—you and she were never meant to be the same, but that doesn't mean you need to continue hurting each other. She's the only Princess I can't bear to slay, even just to see what happens.

The Damsel See this post. In summary, I like how she seems to be particularly narrative-savvy, perhaps even more so than most other Princesses.

The Deconstructed Damsel She loses some points when made to stand as her own entity from being removed from what I enjoy about the Damsel in general, but I do like what she means. I see on occasion posts about how the Damsel has had her agency stripped from her, which I don't see at all—but the Deconstructed Damsel is what you get when you insist that must be the case. The Princess is a creature of perception, and if you go looking for an empty shell, an empty shell is what you will find.

The Fury Her hold on her position is tenuous due to how the narrative of her chapter fails to live up to the first impression—but boy what a first impression she makes. MEAT indeed. The narrative falls flat with its one-option, illusion-of-choice structure, but I'm content to wait and see how the Pristine Cut will improve that.

The Eye of the Needle (fight) This was one of the Chapter IIIs I reached on my first run, and boy is it a good first impression of EOTN. If I were basing this ranking solely off of how thrilling I find the chapters, she'd be in first place with a wide gulf behind her. Definitely one of the most fun chapters... though the other versions trail quite a bit behind.

The Adversary This is where things get muddled. The Adversary, and the two after her, are at a point where they're being judged more on their chapters than their Princesses. For the Adversary specifically, I'm largely neutral on her as a character, but I do enjoy just how much there is to discover in her chapter. I'm still certain I haven't found it all.

The Thorn As a Princess, again I'm largely neutral on her—but I do have to appreciate a good narrative arc, and I do have to acknowledge here that this is one of only two chapters that actually make me guilty about certain choices—though unlike in the Wounded Wild, I actually have abandoned and attempted to slay the Thorn. For the achievements, you must understand, and usually reverted via autosaves afterwards.

The Stranger I preface this by saying I have not played her version of the newly-refurbished ending, though I doubt it'd improve her standing significantly. What I like about her is her chapter, and the peek behind the curtains it affords, and the perfectly-drawn road map it provides, all without the context needed to read it.

The Spectre Her position, too, is tenuous. I carry a good impression of her, and there was a time where I'd confidently assert her as my favourite Princess, or at least top three alongside the Witch and the Thorn. But when looking at her with an analytic eye... there's nothing concrete there to grasp, and her chapter doesn't stick with me as well as many others. She is fun, though, I suppose, and I'm greatly excited for what the Pristine Cut will do for her.

The Eye of the Needle (fail) i.e. ignoring your newest Voice's suggestions and attacking her head-on in the tunnel. I just think it's fun.

The Nightmare Voice of the Paranoid carried her chapter. She also has the honor of being one of a scarce few Princesses I dislike! Right there with Tower, Wraith, MoC, and maybe Networked Wild, but she's my least favourite of the bunch! This is why she places so highly in my rankings compared to the rest of them and to all the Princesses I'm largely neutral on. In fact, I dislike her so much she actually managed to beat out my objective appreciation of the next entry on this list:

The Shifting Mound I'm largely moderate in my opinions on her. Granted, I'd rather not live forever with her as my only company, but it's not because I dislike her—we just have a very fundamental difference of opinion that I really can't look past. Objectively, I appreciate what she is and how she achieves being what she is, and I feel she was executed well. (Figuratively, I mean. I hate executing her literally.) If not for that one tiny disagreement I have with her, I might actually like her. (16–19 is a set of very close calls)

The Prisoner I don't have much to say on her or the next Princess. Getting to pull one over on someone inside your own head is pretty cool, though.

The Beast I appreciate that there's a good few things to experiment with during her chapter. The Princess herself I'm largely neutral on, though.

The Wraith Conversing with her is fun and throwing yourself into the void out of spite is deeply satisfying. Enough said.

The Apotheosis I'm not a fan of largely linear chapters where you don't have many meaningful choices... so the Pristine Cut will probably do wonders for her standing. Getting to stand against a literal god is cool, though... but is largely outweighed by the fact that it doesn't actually have any visible consequences.

The Moment of Clarity Narratively, to be sure, this poses an interesting void of information. I'm not actually sure why I'm ranking her so low, since this is the one linear chapter where I actually think its linearity adds to the effect... but I don't know. I can't see myself dragging her a single spot upwards.

The base Princess A complicated situation. Her personality doesn't really come through until the end, but I do enjoy talking with her in the final cabin, and that's enough, I suppose, to allow her a place here, hovering above the ones I genuinely don't really like.

The Networked Wild I do not like being one with the Princess, nor do I feel it a satisfying narrative to remain that way. Perhaps it's a good thing she sits here, near the bottom, though—it makes the Wounded Wild and the denial of this oneness that she represents so much more beautiful. The peek behind the curtains the Network Wild affords, though, despite paling in comparison to the Stranger's, is enough to keep her out of the gutter.

The Den (fight/fail) There's just not a lot to see here.

The Eye of the Needle (free) All I could think of when I went down this route was how I wasn't fighting her, and thus the chapter was truncated. It left a bit of a sour taste.

The Greys (Burning and Drowned) I dunno, team.

The Tower I may dislike her a bit, but even more so, there's something unsatisfying about her chapter. Something that makes it feel linear even when it isn't. Like it has fundamentally less choice than any other Chapter II. It itches.

(For the record: It wouldn't fit in the list (somehow I filled up the character limit almost perfectly), but I somewhat prefer the "harsh" version of the Princess at the end to the "soft" version. Can't articulate why; just do.)

[bellestarot]

Disclaimer: It's just for fun, remember that. Make yourself comfortable here.

Jennie's Reading

July 24, 2023

Right Now

She is very at peace now. There was something that wasn't decided if it would work for her, but it was finally answered and the news is good.

She is very happy with the outcome of something that could have ended unfairly for her. She is spending a lot of time with her family and is very grateful and satisfied with that.

There is a lot of love involved and she and another family member may be helping each other financially.

Her focus right now has been work, because she's been getting a lot of money from the effort she's been putting in.

Love Life

It's like there's no relationship going on. And if it did, it's over. It's been a little difficult for her, times when she feels bruised and exhausted.

This relationship has always involved materialism, not feelings. And she admired the person with their gifts and conversations, but she knew they were very different.

She wants to know the world and new people, and she knew that the person who was with her didn't feel any love for her.

And like a shift in her mind, she decided it was best to end it. She knows it's the best for both of them, as much as the person asks her to try again, she doesn't want to go back.

Career

Chaos. A lot of chaos. She doesn't feel that the work environment is safe for her, in fact she feels betrayed by them.

The current boss or someone with an important position has been part of many decisions in her career and this has harmed her relationship and professional performance.

It's as if she were surrounded by fights and disagreements, and she tries not to be a part of it, feeling lonely among people.

She likes the fame, but thinks that the people who work with her don't mean well, she feels she deserves more.

Family

She misses someone she was very close to in the family, had a lot of love for that person. Her relationship with her father has been a bit rocky, especially about who she dates. There's a lot of bickering and disagreement, and it's like her father wants to find her a partner.

Despite this, she is very happy to have a female figure in her family, a woman she has been close to since she was a child and who continues to hold a strong connection. They travel a lot together and trust each other.

There is also a relative with whom she has not had much contact, but whose situation is complicated and this has given her a lot of headaches. It apparently involves an unwanted pregnancy.

Friendships

It's not what it looks like.

She feels that with some friends it's hard to be herself, like she has to be careful walking on eggshells dealing with them, and it's exhausting two sides of herself where she can't be who she is.

She was deceived or betrayed by a friend and that has been in her head for a long time, it was some rumor involving trips and her family, and that triggered the end of a friendship.

She is also not as open to making new friends as she used to be. She is in a period of isolation and feels good about it.

But she has real friends to tell, they are few, but she is very happy with them. They are two very different people from her, one is impulsive and anxious and the other is more mature and patient. Maybe now they are not in touch.

Future

29 is an important age for her. She's definitely getting married and having kids, and it's something she's wanted for a long time before it happens.

She will probably move to another country during her pregnancy, or live somewhere else. Many of her wishes will also come true in the future with her faith.

I see her leaving behind someone who has been with her for a long time and moving on. Many difficulties to leave the past behind, she will still feel trapped in the memories.

Maybe she's comfortable stepping back from the spotlight a little.

The relationship with her father may get worse over time.