#he always has to pick up the pieces after bandit

[yanderedrabbles]

✨Kicking my feet and twirling my hair thinking about what cozy basement set up boyfriend would have for me!✨

What are your OCs homes like anyway? Do they like certain decor? Does it smell a particular way? Trinkets lying around?

Yandere boys and their homes

Yandere! Cowboy keeps his boots by the door and his old ropes stacked in the entryway. Definitely a whitewashed farmhouse with an old wraparound porch. There's an old deer skull above the fireplace and a couple of hunting rifles on the wall. He likes the view and most mornings he'll drink his coffee with his elbows resting on the porch railing. He likes it when you pick wild flowers and leave them in vases around the house, but he'll never actually tell you that.

Yandere! Soldier's current apartment is pretty old, probably built back in the Soviet era. He doesn't really keep stuff around - he's always moving and being deployed so he doesn't see the point in keeping trinkets. If it wasn't for you, he'd be perfectly fine sleeping in the barracks. Function over everything.

Yandere! Boyfriend's place is honestly pretty cozy. He keeps plenty of throw pillows and afghan blankets. Lots of wooden furniture - most of it he made himself. It's a pretty manly place, but without being overwhelming. Usually smells like vanilla and fresh baked bread. His basement is totally remodelled, with genuine hardwood floors and fairy lights strung across the beams. It's the perfect place to curl up and watch a horror movie, if you ignore the heavy duty locks on the door.

Yandere! State Trooper is pretty young so his apartment is a bit of a mess. He has police gear dumped all over the place. Mostly Ikea style furniture, modern if a bit bland. The only thing he really added was a hook on his headboard to loop your handcuffs through - he can't have you struggling too much and disturbing the neighbours, now can he?

Yandere! Cop for sure has a bachelor apartment with just a bedroom and kitchen. Very neat and clean but pretty boring. It's one of those newly built places with lots of marble and millennial grey. Besides, he's way more interested in buying you whatever you want for your place. His single piece of decor is a scented candle you gave him. He sometimes lights it after a really long day.

Yandere! Gangster has a shitty New York apartment for sure, exposed brick and one of those noisy old fashioned radiators. It's clean but cluttered and there's basically only two rooms. And the worst part? Rent is still ridiculously high.

Yandere! Incubus has a cell in the abbey. It's almost too neat. Almost like it's not lived in. There's a crucifix above his bed and an uncracked bible on the nightstand. His one concession is his collection of dried flowers. Don't touch - they're all poisonous.

Yandere! Desert Bandit is nomadic and needs to move quickly from one hideout to another. He usually stays in a bayt-al-shar with woven rugs on the floor and oil lanterns burning in the corners. It's much larger than you'd expect and surprisingly warm, even through the icy desert nights. It smells of wood smoke and oud.

Yandere! Academic Rival is a thrift hoe and he knows it. Lots of antiques. He especially loves furniture with plenty of engraving or detailing. He either stays in an uptown penthouse or townhouse that his parents own. Spoiled litte brat.

Yandere! Apocalypse Survivor doesn't stay in one place for too long. And he usually picks places with very few entrances. So be prepared for lots of concrete rooms with boarded up windows.

Yandere! Greek Champion is always fighting, so expect everything from confiscated manor houses to canvas military tents. If he ever returns home, you'll find a villa stuffed with treasure from his conquests. Rare furs and rich tapestries and gleaming bronze urns, built with lots of marble columns and open balconies. He has his own bathhouse and he'll spend hours soaking in the steam, his muscles finally relaxing after months of battle.

[suguann]

OH, DARLING—ASTARION

✎. he’s in a perpetually strange mood for the rest of the day, quieter than usual and more sulky, and you have the sneaking suspicion he's upset with you. | wc. 1.3K+

tags. fem!reader, established relationship, jealousy, slight dirty talk, pet names [18+ only]

masterlist

Eighteen days. That’s how long it takes between the Shadowlands and reaching Wyrm’s Crossing. Longer still since you’ve interacted with anyone other than bandits, lost refugees, cult-crazed lunatics, and your merry band of weirdos (Gale’s words, not yours). 

For once, you’re not picking berries off bushes to offset hunger until you make camp or plucking bramble from your pants when the occasional trail turns out to be safer than the King’s Road. You can finally sit at a bartop and order wine instead of choking down the contents of an ancient bottle of Ithbank you snatched from a cellar in some decrepit village.

That was at least the most tolerable thing you experienced outside the gates, as far as roughing it in the wilds goes.

And it might be your newfound appreciation for city life, of finding an escape from what’s become your current normal—sneaking past goblin-infested camps, waterlogged boots, and haystacks for beds (an upgrade from sleeping on the cold, hard dirt, you suppose)—that lures the Drow twins over to your party walking down from the top floor of the Sharess’ Caress.

“You must be curious after keeping such…” Nym glances over Astarion, Shadowheart, and Karlach, hovering behind you, threatening with blood stains on their clothes and out of place in an establishment full of nobles and wealthy ministers. “Interesting company.”

It’s safe to say you’re uninterested in the twins, but that doesn’t stop your curiosity from piquing when Nym demonstrates her talents with a peach she snatches from a fruit bowl off the nearest table. By the end of it—an obscene display that catches the eye of a few patrons walking by and sends your imagination reeling—you wonder how often she does this to gain clientele. If it’s always so…hands-on.

“So what do you think?” 

You don’t know what to think, oddly confused like that first time Astarion had to spell out for you that he wanted to have sex—you’re going to be so fun to break, pet—a girl who’s every bit the product and trappings of a sheltered fool. 

“Are you interested?”

The mutilated peach in Nym’s hand drips clear fruit juice down her wrist in thin rivulets, collecting at her elbow. You start to shake your head—

Astarion scoffs. “She already has her hands full without your sticky fingers and whatever the hells you’re doing to that innocent peach.” 

Nym’s mouth curls up into a coy smile before her gaze sweeps over to Astarion. “Her lover, I presume?”

“As in, I already tasted said peach while you’re still trying to get your mouth on it; well then, yes. Very much so.”

You slap his chest, your face somehow getting hotter. “Astarion!”

“Darling, we’re in a whorehouse. I assure you they’ve heard worse.”

Nym makes a wordless, amused sound. “Well, if you ever find yourself curious or—” she gives Astarion one last scrutinizing once over and looks at you again “—unsatisfied, you know where to find me and my brother.”

Before you can politely decline, Astarion chips in on your behalf, “Trust me, she’s not.”

He steers you toward the door—I’m never going to look at a silly piece of fruit the same after this—and you don’t miss how he sends the twins a withering stare right before he joins you on the street.

He’s in a perpetually strange mood for the rest of the day, quieter than usual and more sulky. 

You stare at the back of his head as he walks in front of you, bulky pack slung over his shoulder with the books and scrolls you bought earlier, deciding whether you should join him or leave him to his thoughts.

Karlach nudges your shoulder. “Trouble in paradise, soldier?”

“Not really.” You bite your lip. “Should there be?”

Her gaze follows yours to Astarion, and she hums in understanding.

“If you stare at his back any longer, you might burn a hole through it." Heat crawls up your neck, and you try to give her a shove when Astarion looks at both of you over his shoulder, but she doesn't move an inch and laughs instead. "He’s probably upset over finding another pebble in his boot again. Don’t sweat it.”

An unreasonable suggestion, for you know it’s more than another pebble.

He doesn’t say anything once you all reach camp, nor does he give you even the slightest acknowledgment when you walk by his tent on your way to bed or look up from his book—no hello, my sweet readily waiting on his tongue—when you slip a little note under his nose. 

It’s starting to give you the sneaking suspicion he’s upset with you—though you hardly have the faintest idea why.

You’re pulled awake by the quiet, careful shifting of your blanket as someone slips into your bedroll behind you. You stare blearily at the barn's wall, trying to blink away the disorienting feeling still clinging to you like dew on a humid summer day. 

It’s the first brush of sharp incisors against your throat that erases the last vestiges of sleep altogether.

Ah, so he read your note.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you whisper, aware enough to remember the other two people sleeping in the barn with you.

“Have I?”

“You know what I mean.” You tighten your grip on your blanket. “You’re upset, aren’t you?”

He kisses the tender spot below your ear. “I wouldn’t phrase it like that.”

“But you’re unhappy.”

Your breath hitches when his tongue flicks out to taste your skin. 

“Yes, I’m unhappy.”

“Was it because of what that drow said?”

“Hm, be more specific.”

“When she—with the peach.” You squirm a little, a mouse blessedly caught by the tail. “You know.”

His chuckle is soft, faintly mocking.

“Oh, darling. You think I’m jealous?” He runs a thumb over the fluttering pulse in your neck. “How cute.” 

And right before he applies the smallest amount of pressure—

“Well, you would be correct.”

When Astarion works at the laces of your pants, loosening them just enough to slip his hand underneath, you jump at the first cool brush of his fingers tracing across your heated skin. Your muscles jump, jump, jump under his touch, goosebumps prickling along your arms when his hand fits suddenly between your legs. Two soft pats that make you gasp.

“Drippy,” he murmurs. You don’t think your face can get any hotter.

Then he’s hooking two—fuck, three—fingers into you, splitting you open, curling up toward your belly; you can’t bite back the moan that breaks free.

“Hush, pet.”

Nipping at your neck, he scissors his fingers, smiling at your choked, stuttered gasp.

“Do you think I’d let anyone see how you fall apart with a few quick strokes of the fingers? How you sound? How you taste?” 

The questions are followed by his thumb pressing into the achy spot at the apex between your legs, and you don’t mention that he’s doing this with two other people sleeping soundly on the other side of the room. 

“This—” his fingers curl inside you, pressing until he finds soft flesh that makes your legs jerk. “This is all for me—mine—wouldn’t you agree?”

You nod slowly, hand clamped over your mouth to trap the sounds that keep escaping.

“Good, so we understand each other then.”

Your thighs tremble around his wrist. His fangs drag across the thin, breakable column throat, almost like a warning, catching at two identical scars that haven’t fully healed since you’ve let a feral, lost little vampire into your camp before he gives in and bites.

Digging in—messy—you imagine the dribble of red down his pale chin, how he sometimes leaves it there to savor later.

You’re limp and floating in a matter of seconds, your mind blissfully quiet for the first time in days.

“Remember that, darling, the next time someone starts giving you ideas.” After a moment, he whispers: "But I'm also happy you said no."

And he slips out of your bedroll without so much of a creak in the floorboards and out of the barn as if he was never there.

[beaulesbian]

i'm caught up with end of wano, so here's some parallels from one piece that could be or don't have to be connected, but are still pretty cool.

long post ahead & wano spoilers

protecting new era:

rayleigh protecting zoro at sabaody from an attack by kizaru, ch 511

luffy protecting law from an attack by doflamingo, with same move as rayleigh above, dressrosa ch 782

at the end of wano, ch 1055, shanks telling ryokugyu a similar thing as rayleigh above ("don't pick the buds before they sprout. their era is only just the beginning"),

shanks "when the new shoots that just changed pirating history are exhausted, (..) are you that afraid of the new era?!"

---

zoro king of hell

same page as luffy protecting law - with haki clashing against doflamingo, the panels after that talking about supreme king haki - qualities of a king,. in this context for doflamingo, ch 782

at amazon lily ppl reacting to luffy using supreme king haki, while he doesn't know he just did, ch. 519. "that's the haki of the chosen ones' only one in millions has that spirit!"

vs, zoro unknowingly unleashing haki of supreme king for (possibly) the first time, ch 997

and later during his rooftop fight against kaido, (and still denies/ doesn't know what they're talking about, which is very interesting). ch 1010

then during his fight with King, unleashing haki, which makes others around fall unconscious (as mentioned above to doflamingo is a sign of supreme king haki), ch 1033

and some more chapters later, claiming the title of King of Hell (funny in this context it was told to doflamingo he was chosen by the heavens, and for zoro he became the king of hell. smth smth about the character work there).,

and as always - connected to luffy and his dreams!. ch 1036

then there's the asura figure surrounding zoro's powers,

and i find it so interesting that on wikipedia about asura (which zoro's sword and fighting styles are also based on with hindu and buddhist religions) is mentioned they're "considered enemy of the gods"

i like how it's the same phrase as we also heard in the manga before form law's flashbacks about corazon, ch 764

this is in the context of the people with the D. name, and then mostly used for law himself, and luffy and how far he's come to truly wreck the world government, as well as them being a threat to the celestial dragons.

luffy and nika:

from point above, i like how the "enemy of gods" being applied to people with the name D. is also interesting in the context of luffy awakening his devil fruit powers, which are named sun god nika. (i know that in the phrase "enemy of gods" mean gods as the celestial dragons, but it's still interesting)

which doesn't take away from luffy's character as i was a bit worried at first.

he's testing the new skills and powers, and he sees how he can reach the new limits he couldn't before. it might have been the devil fruit that chose who would eat it, but it's luffy and his dream that make the decisons., ch 1045

and ch 1049

luffy in ch 507 & 1053, his core ideals are still the same

---

not fighting someone

shanks not fighting the mountain bandits, and luffy not understanding it, ch 1

jaya arc, luffy and zoro not fighting against bellamy, and nami not understanding at first, ch 225

and ch 1054, momonosuke telling yamato not to fight the navy guy because he wants to be able to protect wano, and let yamato go to the seas as he wants to - it's just that similar energy that luffy has when he tells someone not to fight (or when to fight), without almost any explanations.

also loved this usopp moment!, - could be paralelled to his whole character arc. ch 1036.

he's so real for saying this to kin and kiku (and samurai in general). he's always scared and sometimes can be acting like a coward, but he always, always, stands up for his crew and fights to live through whatever hell luffy puts in front of them.

-- wano was so good and there are so many thoughts about one piece in my head now, about each of the characters and their development/meanings/themes! OTL

[avelera]

"Nice is Different than Good" Character Interpretation: Hob Gadling as Kind of a Bastard

Ok, slightly controversial take on Hob Gadling Is Kind of a Bastard that I've been toying with. It runs counter to some wonderful let me be clear, amazing fanon I've seen in some fics, so this is much more me going, "Hey, here's a way to do it different that might work better in different stories fan writers might want to tell," and not to invalidate other takes or even to put forth that I think this is necessarily true of Hob in a meta sense, it's just shining a light on the text from a different direction, y'know?

Hob as Neutral Evil (credit to Winter on the big dreamling server for this concept!)

I'm obsessed with the idea that Hob is neutral evil on ye olde D&D alignment chart because it makes so much sense if the axis for evil is primarily based on selfishness.

Primary evidence? How casually he talks in 1489 about having done a bit of soldiering and banditry. Those jobs are about killing people. Maybe not all the time as a bandit, ideally, but even then it's about taking their stuff. There is absolutely zero remorse in Hob's tone about being a soldier and a bandit just because he's at his most wide-eyed innocent and has since picked up a trade.

Hob as Politically Conservative until at least 1789 but possibly until 1989

Hob as far as I can tell is a model of the white male middle class existence in England throughout what we define as more or less the "modern era". As far as I can tell, there's no indication at any point prior to 1789 that Hob rocked the boat or was at all out of step with the Powers That Be.

In general, I kind of see Hob as always just this side of the "wrong side of history" and I personally find it more interesting when that's where we find him. And not in a grand sense but in a "middle of the road" sense of just going along with the day to day accepted levels of harm and evil caused by societal momentum. Generally speaking, only a very small percentage of the population takes active part in moving the needle towards good at any given time on a variety causes, and I tend to see Hob is generally speaking outside of all those minorities of do-gooders, except when it comes to taking care of his immediate friends and family. Which is a pretty average place to be.

Indeed, when it comes to the Wat Tyler rebellion, it's my personal headcanon that Hob was more likely on the side of the soldiers putting DOWN the rebellion on behalf of the local lords, and unlikely to have been interested in or part of the cause of greater equality in England. The fact he's a soldier drinking with his mates openly in a tavern when people around him are talking about Wat Tyler and he's blithely ignoring the discussion is where I get that sense.

Indeed, I believe (though I don't know where to cite it, even in the English Civil Wars, Hob was canonically on the side of the monarchy. So jot that down as Hob being pro-monarchy.

While, yes, I believe post 1789 he learned to be less of a piece of shit about taking active part if horrific industrial-level cruelty, I don't see evidence he became a superhero after that. The one bit of "on the page"altruism we see from him is him flipping a coin to Lushing Lou and telling an obvious alcoholic to go get a drink so she stops pestering his friend by offering herself to him as a prostitute, something Hob seems entirely comfortable with.

In 1989 when Hob gets out of his sleek convertible, dressed like a stock trader, he uses the Financial Times to shield himself from the rain, a periodical that apparently was just lying around in his car. As tempting as it would be to say it's to somehow show off to Dream, he has no reason to believe Dream would come back to his car so more likely, it's just something for himself.

All of these put together show me on the page that Hob stayed pretty fixated on making money even after deciding and coming to regret being part of the "shipping business".

And to be clear, we don't actually know when Hob quit the shipping business. Personally, I like to think he did it right after Dream asked, but that's a romantic take and deliberately so. Hob having the opinion by 1889 that slavery is wrong is not necessarily a progressive take by then. Regardless, even if in 1789 he learned it was wrong, that still puts him just slightly ahead of the curve, philosophically speaking.

If we pull in comic canon we do know Hob was ahead of the curve on feminism by 1912 in Hob's Leviathan but again, women would get the right to vote by 1918/1928 in England after the issue had been discussed for at least a century (keep in mind, male Catholics couldn't vote in England until the early 1800s) so again this puts him as palatable to modern readers but not necessary terribly ahead of the curve.

Now, let me also be clear, where Hob is at in 2022 is anyone's guess. Personally I think Dream not showing up in 1989 was a second wakeup call for Hob. If he'd drifted back towards selfish hedonism by 1989, as his whole vibe suggests, he might very well have looked in the mirror and thought, "What if this is why my stranger stayed away?"

We know he becomes a teacher. That probably would go a long way towards changing his politics. We know he's a history teacher, so now he's got the long view. He's spending time in academia, which tends to lean left. My point is, Hob in 2022 is anyone guess and I think there's a lot of evidence and word of god evidence that he's become a Good Person by then, but I also think it's the 1989 meeting that jumpstarted him being Good and not just Nice. Because I do think Hob throughout all these periods of being morally a bastard was always good to the people close to him in his life. I think he was a good friend and a good husband and would have been a good friend to Dream had he allowed it. And that's what I enjoy most, that he could be both of those things, Nice and Not Good.

Hob as non-religious

I admit, this one is very near and dear to my heart for personal reasons of identifying as an atheist when it comes to Christianity and being a lifelong skeptic of Catholicism for the brief time I was technically a member of that organization (all of which while I was a minor). To be clear there is just as much evidence to say Hob is any number of religious alignments as there is that he has none. It's a totally personal choice by any author, I'm just outlining my evidence for why I write him as effectively an atheist.

The Black Death is considered the period that broke the spine of the Catholic church as a monolith in Europe. All the good priests who did their duty taking care of people and giving last rites died leaving only the ones who fled or were young, with tons of money given to the church because of all the rampant death.

Hob would have been born into an era that was particularly rife with both fanaticism and anti-church sentiment. There was a lot of evidence abounding that being a good Christian just got you killed.

Given Hob is a soldier drinking with his mates 1389, I don't see much evidence of him being particularly devout there. No less so in 1489, by the way. Not saying there's evidence against it, just that there's no evidence for it and indeed, societally there's justification for him to not be devout given the century he was born.

1589 I'd say we've got some evidence Hob isn't devout: he seems unperturbed by King Henry's ransacking of the monasteries. Politically speaking, if Hob is a New Man, he might have even benefited from that ransacking personally. In my personal view, Hob is an opportunist and most likely converted to Church of England at the earliest possible opportunity to curry favor with the Powers that Be. I don't personally see him as someone who would bother pretending to be Protestant while continuing to practice Catholicism, because:

Why would Hob bother to be faithful at all? He can't die. The #1 reason to be devout is to avoid Hell or get into Heaven. Hob has clearly chosen the secular world as the only Heaven he cares about. He says that his current life is what, "He once thought Heaven would be like" and it's a very secular vision of good food and safe streets. He does not appear to be pining at all for any spiritual version of Heaven and indeed, speaks of Heaven as a dream only in the past tense.

Personally, by 1689, I think Hob has plenty of reasons to hate God after what he's suffered and the fact he's still not interested in dying to me seems a pretty strong indication that he does not hold romantic views of the afterlife.

Finally, for 1789 to the present, there was absolutely a class of gentleman who were progress minded, obsessed with technology and the Age of Reason. Many American Founding Fathers were self-proclaimed deists, basically a safe form of atheism that said eh, yes God exists and is out there and we owe him some deference, but he doesn't impact day to day life and we can safely ignore him most of the time. Personally, and this is pure headcanon, I put Hob in that group cheerfully ignoring religion and never looking back because he's more interested in the new technologies of the day and not the crusty old church.

We also know, canonically, that at least in 1789, Hob does not consider himself Jewish.

And of course, we can't forget: Hob has evidence that the Christian cosmology is wrong, somehow, given his stranger and his own immortality.

Frankly, given that Hob appears on the page to be a hedonist with no fear of dying, it's interesting to speculate on what his moral boundaries would be at all coming from a world where Heaven and Hell were the primary means of moral social control. It is possible to speculate that Hob could have gone completely off the rails as far as worrying about his soul for a bit there, other than thinking he's already sold it, which could go either way as far as trying to redeem himself but again, he speaks casually of being a soldier and a bandit, so it doesn't sound like if he worried about his soul being sold already, he thought there was anything that could be done to redeem it.

[siringadev]

Sacrifice

Another love story, so strong that I wanted to depict this unusual relationship. Toma and Chobei.

And again, this is an example of love between two brothers (I did not deliberately choose brothers, I just watched/read Hell's Paradise manga/anime on the advice of a friend and found the relationship between these two guys the most touching, and it just so happened that they are brothers... again)

Their love at first glance seems like ordinary brotherly love. But as the story progresses, it is revealed that the brothers are very dependent on each other, and Chobei will go so far as to sacrifice himself, his well-being and his humanity for the sake of his younger brother Toma, ensuring his safety, he even disfigures his face in front of bandits to keep Toma's beauty intact. And Toma deeply loves and admires Chobei, he listens to his every word, he does everything for him, because Chobei doesiseverything for Toma.

Several times, being on the verge of life and death, Chobei puts Toma's safety above all else. While wounded, he climbs out of a deep hole with terreble effort, carrying his weakened and wounded brother on his shoulders. He kills monsters, and he resists the spell of the mystical Island with only willpower. All for his brother. "I DO... ... HAVE SOMETHING TO LOSE. BEYOND THAT? DON'T CARE... ...WHAT I GOTTA LOSE. THAT'S ENOUGH. HE'S... ...ENOUGH FOR ME."

While the others were infected and turned into plants, Chobei mastered the power of monster-plants, and reached a godlike level. Because he could not lose Toma, and Toma could not lose him. This delighted the protagonist Gabimaru and even the Tensen. "WHAT SEPARATES CHOBE FROM THE OTHERS... IS THAT HE HAS SOMETHING TO LOSE. HE FIGHTS FOR SOMEONE BESIDES HIMSELF. THAT'S WHERE HE FINDS THE STRENGTH TO DEFY DEATH." - Gabimaru about Chobei and Toma.

When Chobei turned into a monster in battle and lost himself, he wounded Toma and almost killed him in madness, but his brother's voice called out to him: "SORRY... BROTHER... I'D HOPED TO FIGHT ALONGSIDE YOU...YET YOU'VE ALWAYS FOUGHT ALONE. BECAUSE, ALAS, I'M WEAK... UNRELIABLE...

SEE WHAT'S BECOME OF ME? SO COME BACK TO YOUR SENSES, BROTHER. BECAUSE, WHILE I AM A PART OF YOU... YOU ARE EVERYTHING TO ME." - Toma to Chobei. After that, Chobei regained himself and remembered everything.

Toma, in turn, casts aside his pride and asks to be an apprentice to a samurai from a rival side to learn swordsmanship so that he can fight for his brother, because he wants to protect him. As a sign of his determination, he cuts his long hair and braids it on the left side, mirroring Chobei's on the right.

The origin of Chobei's braid and his words "Break Down, Come Apart" are connected to Toma. In the beginning, when Toma was born, Chobei picked him up, and as a fragile and cute baby, Toma pulled Chobei's hair, and Chobei smile with tears, realizing that he wanted to protect this little creature. Since then, he wears his braid on the side where Toma pulled it. A symbol of his desire to protect Toma. A symbol of his love for him, his oath, his loyalty.

So later, Toma cuts his long hair (a symbol of his beauty and delicacy that Chobei so guarded) and braids his own hair as well, wanting to protect Chobei and save him from the Tensen's hands. It is also their sign of truth.

Their love for each other is absolute and goes beyond everything.

I find it interesting how the author explores humanity and love, it's limits, it's essence, it's manifestations, how Chobei, being selfish and aggressive bandit, who never cared about other people, who robbed, lied and killed, could be so strongly motivated by love for one single person - his younger brother. He even gives up his own humanity, he surrenders to the demonic gods Tensen, voluntarily subjecting himself to violence and cruel experiments, where he was cut into pieces - and all this time he thought about Toma: "He is my priority. Toma, wait for me." He also instantly feels Toma's closeness, although he does not see him. He feels his energy, there is an extraordinary connection between them.

[gabessquishytum]

Re: panty stealing neighbors

Dream's tired of his favorite panties being stolen right out of the dryer. His apartment is on the same floor as the laundry room so he often gets lazy about picking up his laundry right away.

One day he sets a trap for the panty bandit by leaving out a pair of red lacy panties at the top of his laundry basket while he goes back to "get detergent". He catches Hob red-handed, quite literally. Hob finally confesses that he's been quietly crushing on his hot neighbor and one day noticed Dream dropped a pair of dirty panties in the hallway on the way to laundry room. Hob took his opportunity and has been stealing Dream's underwear ever since.

But while Dream's in the middle of shaming Hob for being a pervert, Hob notices Dream is wearing a pair of HIS boxers, which he gleefully points out. Dream blushes, also caught red handed. Turns out Dream's been swiping Hob's underwear from the gym down the street. Dream's never gotten a reallllllllyyyyyy good look at Hob's face at the gym, he was always constantly distracted by the chest rug and his sexy hairy legs. So whenever Hob would shower at the gym, Dream would just nick the boxers and smell them for days after, then just wear them around the apartment.

Cue hot and bothered making out that ends in sexy times at Dream's apartment down the hall. And then cute little gifts of dirty underwear left in each other's apartment.

Off anon cause we already all know I'm a degenerate 😂💖

SEIYA MY BELOVED

thank you SO much for indulging my pantysniffing thoughts and expanding on this. i absolutely love it <33 also please know that the phrase "panty bandit" is now my favourite ever.

Just imagine Dream’s OUTRAGE. he's standing there, red faced, giving Hob a piece of his mind- "how dare you, do you know how disgusting you are, do you know how much these things COST?" And Hob listens penitantly, he really does, until he starts smirking.

And once Dream is done he's like "you're absolutely right love and I do apologise, but I think that your argument would have more weight if you weren't literally wearing my underwear."

Dream doesn't really have much of a response except to turn bright red (same colour as the panties, actually). He doesn't even use the gym anymore, he just goes there to hopelessly ogle men and steal his fave gym crush's boxers. It's not his fault! Hob shouldn't take them off in the first place! What's he doing, going commando in the gym?! He's just asking for trouble.

Hob grins and shrugs. Leans across to whisper in Dream’s ear - "I'm not commando now, sweetheart. I'm wearing some of yours." Dream literally moans out loud.

He gets to drag Hob back to his apartment (laundry abandoned) and take the contraband panties off with his teeth - which is no mean feat, considering how tight they are on Hob. They smell divine, but not as good as Hob’s actual body. Dream’s never been happier than he is between those sexy hairy thighs.

A couple of days later, Dream gets a delivery. First of all, a "fresh" pair of Hob’s boxers. And by fresh, I mean freshly covered in cum. Secondly, a new package of luxury lingerie, all in Dream’s size, with an accompanying note:

I'm keeping those red ones from the other day, so thought I'd better make up for it. Can't wait to see you ruin these for me <3

[108garys]

Randolph Hodgson journal audio transcribed

For hoa's 21st in inuniverse anniversary I have transcribed Hodgson's diary using this video

You can also check out my previous transcriptions of Manny Sherman's tapes and all puritan dialogue in little hope

I will always love this plotline and so wish there was more to it, I love that Randolph is such an unreliable narrator and damn do I wish I had the music in this separate, well at any rate...

September the 24th 1945.

When Lady Bradshaw summons you, you go. Mary and I were bound for our honeymoon, but the chance to dine with one of Britain's finest antiquarians was too great for us to miss. When we met, Bradshaw wore a brooch that caught Mary's eye: a Sumerian relic recovered from a dig site in the Hashemite Kingdom of Iraq. After dinner, she showed us another find from the same site, a gold cuneiform tablet. She called it the final puzzle piece in her life's work - a map that pinpoints the tomb of Alexander the Great. If she's right, the tomb lies somewhere on the border between Syria and Iraq. Lady Bradshaw wants us to lead her expedition. I realise now that our honeymoon will take place in a dusty dig site in the Zagros Mountains. __

April the 2nd 1946.

We have assembled our team. Top of my list was my old comrade from the wars, Captain Sherman Crow, the bulldog of Omaha Beach. We found him in Cairo, brawling for money in a Levantine drinking club. Crow recommended an experienced dig foreman, Arthur Pulman, and in Haifa we picked up my assistant, the always inquisitive Aline Journeau. Lady Bradshaw insisted on the presence of her own advisor, Ellis van Huyten, an archaeologist I know only from his poor reputation. Our team complete, we shall head to the Lebanon and from there by train to Baghdad. __

October the 21st, 1946.

Crow was the first to break into the tomb: an honour he shared with "Bessie", that damned machinegun of his. It was a beast of a weapon, but it seemed to comfort the fellahin doing the digging. This place has lain undisturbed for centuries. It is not the tomb of Alexander the Great, but a temple of an even older God-King: the Akkadian despot Naram-sin. We have been mistaken, but Lady Bradshaw still declares it a find for the ages. A discovery that will write our names in the annals of history. Looking out at this sceptered hall, I have no reason to doubt her. __

The catacombs beneath the temple are heaped with human bones. Aline has worked sacrificial digs in El Castillo, but even she hasn't seen death on this scale before. The Akkadians killed thousands in the name of their gods: most ritually decapitated, but others crudely slain and dumped in charnel pits, as though the slaughter had spiralled out of control. What plague of cataclysm demanded such a price? So much blood spilled, and for what? Whatever happened here, a millennia ago, is a secret waiting to be discovered. Our work begins in earnest. __

7th of December, 1946.

Our finds have been so spectacular, I couldn't resist breaking out the champagne. As I entered the survey tent to pour a glass for Mary, I realised something was awry; she'd found Bradshaw's crate of dynamite. I tried to calm her, but she worked up a full head of steam, sounding off about the risks of using explosives at a dog site. She was right, of course, and I feel terrible for hiding it from her. Just then Crow arrived and picked up the dynamite. When Mary ordered him to put it down, he looked her boldly in the eye and said they'd found something below. __

The bottom of the chasm stank of death and was littered with corpses, fresh enough to be covered in flies. Crow thinks that local bandits must have tossed their victims down here after robbing them. I pity those hapless wanders; the fear they must have felt as they tumbled to their doom. But this was not what he wanted to show us. An unearthly light pierced the rocks. When Mary asked us what it was, Bradshaw nodded to Crow who broke open the dynamite. She said she intended to find out. __

Blowing a hole through the rock face, we found a gateway to a strange world below. A phosphorescence emanated from beneath, casting its eldritch light over us all. Lady Bradshaw was insistent that we descend further. Perhaps Mary is right, and Bradshaw is becoming reckless and uncontrollable, but I can't stop thinking about what's down there. I am now working with Crow and Pulman to set up a winch and elevator to descend into the shaft. What mysteries lie below, I wonder, undisturbed by the world above? __

13th December.

Crow, Bradshaw and I descended in the elevator. As we left, I was struck by the change in Bradshaw's temperament. She seemed eager, almost manic, in the face of our new discovery. When we reached the bottom, Crow could not prevent himself from letting loose an oath. There before us, set in a dizzying vault, lay a city. It was loathsome, colossal and sleeping, a great carcass built in some ancient age before men. Overcome with awe, I fell to my knees. __

28th December.

God, forgive us. For days we have studied this dead, silent realm and its entombed abominations. Now the horrors have come for my own dear Mary. Crow found her unconscious in the Star Chamber, her notes scattered around her. He carried her back to our supply room and laid her down in one of the cells. When Bradshaw learned what had happened, she was evasive about Mary's work down there. As I cleaned my wife's face, she spoke to me in a fever, sounding distressed and confused. I have resolved to keep a vigil over her. I pray her fever abates so we can escape this cursed place. __

29th December.

Pulman says the radio has been sabotaged; an expert job, with vital wires severed. Someone wants us cut off from the outside world. Aline fought in the Resistance, but while she is undoubtedly capable, I refuse to accept she's responsible. Personally, I still harbour doubts about van Huyten, although without proof, everyone remains a suspect. All I can do now is place sentries on the expedition's equipment. __

30th December.

Mary's condition worsens. This evening, I awoke from an exhausted daze to find Lady Bradshaw asking my wife more of her damned questions. Mary was babbling something about winged demons. At this, Bradshaw's eyes lit up and she asked whether Mary could sense them now. Gripped by delirium, my wife lashed out, clawing at Bradshaw's chest. Lady Bradshaw withdrew, and I was, after a while, able to calm my wife. __

31st December.

Mary is dead. I sat with her in her final moments, telling her how sorry I was. Sorry for accepting Bradshaw's offer. For ever coming to this hell-forsaken place. For placing my vanity above our love. When Mary spoke about "the end of everything." I knew she sensed death coming. With her last words, she made me swear to bury this place. __

9pm.

Something unholy has happened. As I sat with my wife, I noticed something in her hand; Lady Bradshaw's brooch. She must have pulled it from her shirt when she grabbed at her. Turning it over, I noticed that it looked like one of the creatures we exhumed from the cocoons. Were these the demons Mary had spoken about? Had Bradshaw known all along what we'd find down here? Then Mary's corpse moved. It was not my wife - it was something inhuman! It leapt at me, and only the bars of the cell spared me from its fury. __

The camp is in uproar. Workers are missing, and Lady Bradshaw has returned to the city deep below. No-one knows why, but I can guess. She yearns for the same fate that befell Mary. She wants to be one of them. __

1st of January, 1947. 1 am.

The saboteur has struck again, sealing us in here. We are hopelessly trapped with those things. All around us, they shriek from the darkness. Crow has set up his machinegun, pointed towards the catacombs. Mary was right. We cannot fight that which does not live. There is only one option now: bring the whole damned temple down on them, even if it means bringing it down on our own heads. They cannot be allowed out of here. __

When this temple falls, my wife and I will be buried together, side-by-side. I owe her that, at least. The portrait that I carry in my watch case is the Mary that I remember. Not that thing in the cell. __

This is all Lady Bradshaw's doing. She knew all along what was down here. She led us to them. I found her below, hunched over the murdered corpse of Van Huyten. As she turned to face me, I saw that she had changed. My hand fell to the closest weapon I could find - an iron tent peg. I stabbed her with the metal, impaling her in the heart. As she died, unholy screams echoed from below, as if answering The sudden release of blood. __

The are coming. We must end it here, with fire and gunsmoke. If there is time, my last act will be to dictate this diary onto tapes; perhaps if it is found in the rubble, it can serve as a warning to any who follow us. __

The bones of this temple are drenched in blood. We have set foot on an uncharted shore and roused something ancient and wicked; a blasphemy that comes in indescribable shapes and forms. For eons, we lived as children in this world, unaware of the horrors that slumber beneath our feet. Now, we have blindly thrown open the gates to madness. I fear being taken, but I must do what I must. We must seal this place for eternity. For all mankind. Mary, I'm sorry.

___

@kassiekole22 @delurkr @ctrvpani @tatjana-fantasy

@tinynightmarewoman @blubary @oblivious-troll

I always be pouring over these things and then I don't have the remaining space to figure out who to tag 😅

[nerdyvocals]

@look-at-those-niceass-rocks and I finished our watch (their first, my... eighth???) of Julie and the Phantoms the other day (*cough* over a week ago *cough*), and like the previous two times, we had some unhinged things to say about it. This one's a bit shorter as we only had episodes 8 and 9 left, but if you enjoy our dumbassery, rest assured, we'll be watching the Descendants franchise next!

Honorable mention: us spending the first 20 minutes of our call trying to find the first two posts because the blog search engine simply Does Not Work.

Captions: [Whimsical music plays] Me: Whimsical music GAYS, OHHHHHHH

*Flashback of the Hotdog Incident (tm)* Bee: Street meat street meat street meat Me: Are you saying "straight meat"??? Bee: NO!

Ray Molina : *is very engaged with his son's ghost dip theory* Bee: The Bandit Heeler energy on this man

Julie: *outside the Patterson's house* Me: Do you have tissues?? Bee: Uhhh, yeah, next to me? Me: Good Bee: Oh boy

*cue lots of sniffling over Unsaid Emily*

Bee: You can tell their prefrontal lobes stopped developing at 17 Me: Yeah, I guess that happens when you die? Brain stops growing?? Bee: hehehe brain machine broke

Julie: What the heck??? Me: Let Julie say fuck! Bee: Of all the characters, Julie should get to say fuck

Me: Finale time! Any predictions? Bee: Oh god, I don't think I could outdo the pink ladies one, uhhh

Bee then spends the next minute and a half being a prophet (in a sense): 1. Alex is going to get a very dramatic on-screen kiss with Seth Clearwater because otherwise I will be Upset 2. In the same way they become Real-or like. Where people can see them-when they play, they will find a way to be corporeal where they can touch each other 3. I think there should be a dance fight with-oh, fuck, what's his name? Evil ghost man?? With his Ghost Cocaine???

Alex and Willie: *emotional hug* Me: WAIT PAUSE. *zooms in on Alex's hand* I think I have that ring. Bee: Riveting.

The boys: *trying to get the PATD opener gig* Promoter: *freaking out* Assistant: *unbothered* Me: A lesbian and an incel are trapped in an office together. Bee: The incel is going to get eaten. Me: And not in the way he wants!

Julie: *having a cry in the alley* Me: I wonder how much they had to pay to keep that Subway sign in the background.

Julie: *takes dahlia from the street vendor* Bee: Truffula tree lookin-ass flower.

Bee: Also I didn't want to ruin that beautiful moment, but all I could think of was "mom come pick me up I'm scared."

Me: this poor tech guy is Going Through It (tm)

Carrie: Been here before Trevor: *Bombastic side eye* Bee: HA that look said, "Damn, I really forgot to parent this girl"

Nick: *Jamming* Us: GO FEDORA KID!!!

Me @ Trevor: That man is going to pass out

Me, as the Boys are appearing: See, I've always wondered what was going on in the ghost club side of this scene, cause look, their costumes are missing pieces! Alex's shirt is open, Reggie's jacket is just gone! Bee: Oh yeah Me: Like it's probably just a storytelling choice to show they're where they want to be via clothes, 'cause this is more in line with how they dress normally, but it does make me wonder what we're missing. Like is there a fight? Luke: *appearing* Me: See his sleeves got ripped off! How and why? Bee: They did that for us. You, specifically Me: *cackling*

Julie and Luke: *crying, about to hug* Me, noticing that Luke's pants Fit Very Well: Not the most important thing happening here, but uh, dat ass tho

After rewinding the scene a bit because it didn't hit Bee in the moment that They Were Hugging Bee: I was so caught up in the euphoria of a good butt that for a moment, I lived in a world where they weren't ghosts

Julie + Phantoms: We played the Orpheum! Me: Saved by the power of friendship! Bee: And this man's ass!

Me: So yeah, that was Julie and the Phantoms, how ya feeling? Bee: Great! This definitely won't change my brain chemistry forever

Next up, Descendants!

[jedifighterpilot2727]

Somebody That I Used to Know

Just a little fic that that's based on the canon dialogue that occurs between the female Dragonborn (Aria), and Serana after Serana has been cured of vampirism. Takes place after the defeat of Harkon when Serana and the dragonborn are seeing each other for the first time post cure.

It had been two months since Serana had left.

Aria had offered to go with her, but Serana had insisted that the journey was one she needed to make on her own.

In a way, Aria understood - becoming human again was a very personal decision. But on the other hand, she knew how traumatic the experience of becoming a daughter of Coldharbour was. Serana didn't talk about it often - or really at all - but Aria knew enough. Between the many books of Daedric lore that she'd read on her travels, and the vocal nightmares that she'd had to wake Serana up from, there wasn't much she couldn't piece together.

The knowledge had certainly made the task of killing Serana's father Harkon a lot easier. If she were being honest, she had sparred with a few trees the morning of the siege on the castle in hopes that the blade would be a little dull when it cut through his skin. She didn't really know if vampires felt pain the same way that humans did, but it made Aria feel better at least.

A small act of vengeance on behalf of her friend.

And that's why she'd offered to accompany Serana when she went to Falion to ask him about curing her vampirism.

- Not that Serana needed to be cured of vampirism, she'd more than proven herself as a friend and an ally, despite her . . . unconventional diet. It's not like she'd ever tried to feed off of Aria - pretty good restraint for a vampire who'd been locked in a crypt for over a thousand years. Besides, there were plenty of evil people who deserved to lose some of their blood. Hell, Aria had helped kill dozens of bandits and murderers; who was she to care if someone like Serana wanted a little snack first? -

But she'd wanted Serana to know that she wasn't alone anymore. That she had friends - that she had Aria. That it didn't matter if it was killing her undead father or helping her become human again, or living life as vampire if that's what Serana wanted - Aria was here for her. And Aria could be there for her from afar too, that's exactly what she'd done these past two months.

Once Serana had left to find Falion, Aria had returned to Whiterun to check in with the rest of the Companions. It had been too long since she'd seen her shield siblings, and she needed some good old fashioned skull bashing to take her mind off of things. She mostly picked up jobs with Farkas, finding he was the easiest to talk to since she'd been named Harbinger. It made no difference to him what title she held, he treated her just the same as he always did; like a beefy older brother who would tease her and smack her a little too hard on the shoulder but would definitely knock somebody's lights out if they dared to look at her the wrong way.

It was nice to not have to do any hard thinking and just work for a change, and her pockets weren't complaining either. Between the bounties and the loot they's stolen off bandits; Aria had enough money to spring for the expensive corkbulb bolts that she preferred for her crossbow. That's exactly why she and Farkas found themselves trudging through Dayspring canyon, headed for Fort Dawnguard.

"I still don't understand why you can't just use a greatsword." Farkas grumbles. "Eorlund makes those right at Skyforge, and you don't have to keep buying them, just sharpen it every now and then."

"It's a little hard to be sneaky when you're heaving a giant hunk of metal around and grunting like a boar. Haven't you ever noticed that you never really sneak up on any of our enemies?" Aria asks, squinting into the sunlight.

"Don't need to sneak up on people when I can just bash them with my giant hunk of metal." Farkas returns, and Aria can't really argue with him there.

"Well I like slicing through people just as much as you, but occasionally the situation calls for a little more finesse. Or at least distance." She crinkles her nose. "Weren't you glad for my crossbow when we had to take down that troll that smelled all the way from here to Riften?"

Farkas belly laughs.

"I'll give you that, even with your crossbow, Aela complained about us smelling bad for a week! Guess she forgets she smells like a wet dog."

"Funny how you can really smell it when you're no longer a werewolf, huh?"

"I'll say, no wonder I was getting funny looks around town for so many years."

"To be fair, you still don't smell great." Aria teases, and Farkas gives her a playful shove that's still strong enough to send her stumbling up the last of the steps to the fort.

"Watch it, shield sister."

They're both laughing as they make their way into the Fort, Farkas having been her a handful of times so that Aria could restock or so they could pick up intel on the remaining vampire covens.

Isran has really made progress with the place since the the last time they stopped by, everything's not quite as dusty and Aria doesn't feel the constant urge to sneeze like she usually does.

Sorine's workshop is somehow even more cluttered than normal, Dwemer scraps laying about in haphazard piles. Really, it was a wonder that Sorine got any work done at all.

Of course, Aria only exacerbates the problem, trading a few Dwemer trinkets she'd picked up along with some coin to refill her stockpile of crossbow bolts. She and Farkas chat with Sorine for a while - Sorine somehow roping them into checking out a Dwemer ruin halfway across Skyrim for some weapon schematics. When they finally say their goodbyes, Aria decides to have a look around the rest of the fort, see what else is new besides the lack of cobwebs. Only, she finds something, or someone, she isn't quite expecting.

Right there in the rotunda, sitting in the beams of the noon day sun without so much as a hat on, is Serana.

The sight stops Aria so abruptly that Farkas slams into her back.

"You alright?" Farkas asks, his hands reaching out to her shoulders to catch her before she hits the ground.

The commotion has drawn Serana's attention, and Aria meets her eyes across the room.

Serana's eyes no longer have their vampiristic glowy quality, but Aria still finds herself completely mesmerized.

"You alright?" Farkas repeats, and Aria tears her gaze away from Serana to look at him.

"Yeah, yeah." She pats his hand thats still on her shoulder in reassurance. "Just, uh wait here for a minute, okay?"

"I will remain on guard here." Farkas gives a mock salute, and Aria finds herself grateful once again at his ability to overlook things that most people would ask questions about.

Her eyes once again find Serana's as she makes her way to the bench along the wall where the other woman is sitting. She resists the urge to check her armor for grease and blood. - it's Serana - she reminds herself, she's seen you in way worse shape than this.

Still, one hand tugs on her sword belt to center it, and the other adjusts her helmet where the collision with Farkas had set it tilted. It was her old Imperial officer's helmet; Arias much preferred the hard hat's protection to that of a hood, unless she was trying to sneak around; plus, it usually got her brownie points with the local guards.

If Serana notices her preening, she doesn't mention it, though her lips do curl up in a smirk.

"There you are. I'm - I'm back."

Aria's heart stills and then takes off at a gallop when Serana speaks, and she hopes she isn't imagining the grateful sigh she hears in Serana's voice.

"I was wondering when I would see you again."

Wondering? More like you've spent every waking moment for the past two months trying not to wonder when you'd see her again.

"Here I am." Serana shrugs. "Human as ever."

"And you're good? Everything is good?"

Mouth insert foot. Aria shakes her head.

"The world is alive and so am I."

"That's good." Aria cringes inwardly. "I'm glad. I uh, I missed you."

"I missed you too."

They stare at each other for a long moment, and Aria wracks her brain for something - anything - to say. She'd spent over a year fighting by this woman's side, battling the living and unliving alike, and she can't think of a damn thing to say. All the hours spent in conversation about everything from the fate of the world to how the smell of flowers hadn't changed in the thousand years Serana had been underground.

All that and she has nothing.

"I should - uh - I should get going, I guess. Farkas is waiting."

"Ahh," Serana jerks her chin over Aria's shoulder at the man mentioned. "Is he the thug?"

"He's not a -" Aria begins heatedly, but she follows Serana's gaze to where Farkas is standing in the middle of the doorway with his arms crossed looking like - well, a thug. "He's a good friend." is what she settles for in the end.

A look she can't quite place flickers over Serana's face, but then it's gone.

"Right. Well, I'll let you get back to your friend then."

The words feel like a dismissal, and they hit Aria like a punch to the chest; a wave of emotion thats crests over her, leaving her floating and listless in the aftermath. Tears spring unbidden to her eyes, and she turns her head before Serana can see them.

"Right. I'll see you around." Aria spins on her heel and crosses the large room back to where Farkas is waiting, brushing past him without speaking.

"Who was that?" his voice timbers out gently behind her, and she thanks the nine that she's at least she's managed to teach him to not always speak in a bellow.

"She's just - " Aria's voice cracks and the unshed tears blur her vision.

She doesn't know what she expected to happen when she saw Serana again, but it certainly wasn't that. That felt like a conversation with someone she barely knew - definitely not with someone she'd spend the better part of a year calling her best friend.

Serana's moved from the bench in the rotunda to a chair in the hall, and they've passed by no less than three times.

Damn Fort Dawnguard and its maze like layout.

"You ok?" Farkas asks, and she can hear the worry in his tone.

"Just, just get us out of this stupid place, would you? I swear the damn entrance keeps moving."

If Farkas has anything to say about that, he keeps it to himself; but he does take over the lead and Aria tucks in behind him, using him as a shield to block her from Serana's line of sight.

Once they've made it back outside, she swipes at her eyes, and Farkas gives her a studying look before tossing an arm around her shoulder and dragging her down the path that will lead them back to Jorrvaskr.

"You know I love you like a sister, but if you want to talk about whatever happened back there, you should probably wait and talk to Vilkas."

It's Arias turn to laugh, and she feels at least a little better.

It only lasts a moment though until she sees Serana once again in her mind's eye, and the weight of fallen hopes settles like lead in her stomach.

If only she could figure out what she'd been hoping for.

[fireemblems24]

Golden Wildfire Ch 10

Spoilers for GW up to Ch 10 below.

STORY

Now Claude's taking Ls in the Kingdom too.

I love how much they always try to drum up sympathy for Randolph when the man's only character trait is "I want to murder people to gain personal status." And then he also has the gall to act like he's better than the people defending themselves when he goes to kill them.

I never really put that much thought into him before, but yeah he's kinda just a piece of shit, isn't he? Low key one of the worst human beings in the game.

They should've made it Fredinand or like Linhardt's dad or someone likeable.

Funny seeing Claude play Edelgard like a fiddle though. His army is fine, and hers is crushed lamo.

Haha, Fleche is back to her vengeance act. It's gonna be funny if a tiny girl child is a final boss.

The same conversation with Jeralt and Bylethas I saw elsewhere, I think. Yeah, here comes the sword again.

I love how they make Rhea out to be such a big deal, but literally no one gives a shit that they declared war on her. Like, pick one, game. You either have Claude be an unpopular ruler or Rhea actually be a problem.

Raphael called it right. Commoners don't give a shit. So Edelgard getting everyone killed over noble squabbles.

Hilda kinda seems like the Kingdom stan here. She's always the one upset about it.

Claude is such an idiot. I cannot take him seriously. Claiming he wants to spare lives moments after sacrificing Randolph and wanting to wipe a church no one gives a shit about off the map. Am I supposed to take this seriously?

Haha, Arval said he can think for both of them when I had Shez say she's more brawn than brain lamo. And Shez believes it too, omg. Shez is great. I need a comedy show with them.

Oh, nice! Looks like another single-battle map. BC, honestly, I got Spiritfarer for Christmas and I'm DYING to play it, but need to finish this first.

BASE/SIDE BATTLES

Lamo, Arval just said trying to unify different people under one king is dumb, won't work, and looks forward to the day humanity moves beyond it.

LORENZ/IGNATZ/RAPHAEL PARALOGUE

So is this the paralogue that's going to rewrite it so Lorenz's dad did nothing wrong? Given the description, I'm betting it's that.

Ignatz is being awkward around Lorenz now that he's been promoted.

Gloucester evades all of Lorenz's questions about these bandits.

And now Lorenz is demanding Raphael do what Ignatz did and is upset he's so casual lamo.

So are they making it so his dad wasn't the one who ordered the hit that killed Raphael's parents? Lol. This game really likes whitewashing some of these guys, but Glouster's probably the worst offender.

Let me take a wild guess. TWSITD.

It's really a shame that Raphael is such a one-note character. It would've been interesting if he had more in-depth conversations with the rest of the cast who were unable to move beyond trauma.

IGNATZ & LEONIE B SUPPORT

Their one and only support.

They're hunting and the deer only has one arrow. So they try to figure out who successfully shot the deer.

They both hit the same place. Mystery solved.

LORENZ & CONSTANCE C SUPPORT

This one should be better.

Constance is challenging a cat to a staring contest. Yes, this one is already better.

Lamo, he says he would've considered her as a wife if she restored her house. But withdraws because she's a weirdo. (I mean, no loss?)

Constance gets back at him by saying she'd never consider him lol.

Now they're arguing over who's house is more noble.

Much more entertaining.

SHEZ & RAPAEL B SUPPORT

It's about food.

It's nice to see Raphael actually have passion about something instead of just repeating "meat!" over and over.

SHEZ & IGNATZ B SUPPORT

You know, going through supports has made me realize that Golden Deer probably has my overall least favorite cast.

Ignatz has an older brother. He likes his brother at least.

Ignatz is finally talking about how he doesn't love being a knight. He really didn't have much of anything going on removing that conflict.

It's nice to hear Ignatz have his own convictions to become a knight. He's getting more sides to him, which is good.

SHEZ & HOLST B SUPPORT

Holst sneaks with Shez into enemy territory. He's doing it because scouts are going missing. Shez is impressed someone of his status is doing that.

LYSITHEA & RAPHAEL B SUPPORT

Lysithea studied too long and is out after dark. Gets scared by noises. She runs into Raphael and they talk about strengths and weaknesses.

The weird noises she heard wasn't Raphael.

MARIANNE & HILDA PARALOGUE

Marianne needs help from Shez organizing because she sucks at it.

Wow, Hilda not only volunteered to help Marianne clean up the mess, but also to do the scouting mission they were supposed to go on all by herself. It's love.

Hilda doesn't show up for awhile, so they get worried and go to check on her. Given that it dumps me to prepare for the battle next, I'm thinking that was a good call.

Not my favorite paralogue. I had to fight Ingrid :(

They talk about Marianne's typical issues.

It has very "safe" shipping dialogue throughout.

MAIN BATTLE

I don't want to invade the Kingdom. Especially since it makes no sense for Claude to do so.

Hahahahaha, lamo, you deserve it Claude. Fleche raised an army to fight him. Seeing this tiny girl as the final boss is going to be hysterical.

Oh, Arval and Shez stuff. I almost forgot Arval existed. They've got bad feelings. I'm guessing it's because Byleth is fused with Sothis.

Ok guys, I restarted this chapter over and over trying to recruit Byleth, but Claude just stands there in one seized area and won't move until Byleth reaches him - even when no one else is around.

I really just want to be done with this playthrough to be honest (there are so many other games I want to play right now), so I'm not going to bother with recruiting Byleth. I'll try in SB, but the only one I'm going to put any real effort in is AG.

Seeing Fleche as a final boss is funny.

I'm guessing we don't fight Jeralt if you recruit successfully. Got a cool cut scene for not bothering though!

So Byleth doesn't join you because you kill Jeralt, I'm assuming. Though, Byleth doesn't seem to have any issue joining Edelgard when she plays a role in that lamo.

Also, gotta say, I love how there's a chapter you can't use the lords. And for Edelgard and Claude it's because they randomly just don't fight that chapter. For Dimitri, it's epic story reasons lol.

Aw, shit, did Byleth just kill Judith?? That sucks. Oh well. Not restarting. This 3 route thing is too much. I just want to play this again, but one route only.

You know, after Claude's dumbfuckery throughout this route, he kinda deserves this lamo.

So who is it in SB and AG that dies?

Byleth so callous about Jeralt's death. Far cry from the crying in Houses, a bit sad actually.

It's kinda funny that Judith died because Fleche went on another rampage. I'm going to miss seeing her around though.

Is whoever dies in AG bad enough that I should push through and recruit Byleth? I may look that up to give me the proper motivation, but that could backfire if it's someone I don't care enough, but I'm having a hard time thinking of a single character I don't care enough about. Even like Sylvain's dad would make me too sad for Sylvain and I couldn't do it.

Aww, Arval is upset for Shez.

So is Sothis and Byleth merging merging or something?

xxxx

[supermarine-silvally]

Gooooood morning, I'm here to send you numbers 1, 2, 7, 10 and 13 from the Happy Together ask game for Yara and Ace, my beloveds. Hope you're doing well!

tysm for the ask!!! I am obsessed with these two fr (also tagging @oneirataxia-girl to share the brainrot heheh)

(ask game here!)

This got long so I'll put the answers under the cut!

1. What are your OTP’s love languages?

In terms of receiving, I headcanon Ace as a words of affirmation sort of guy-- we all know that between Garp and Dadan and all the adults in his life that Ace didn’t receive a lot of reassurance about his self-worth growing up. The only time he was probably ever praised was when he brought home dinner for the mountain bandits, and he definitely enjoyed that one time when Makino remarked on how well-behaved he was for her, so getting that sort of verbal affirmation helps chase away the doubts he feels about whether or not he deserved to be born in the first place. As for giving, Ace is always surprising Yara with little gifts he finds on his solo missions/adventures or on the islands they visit together. He just loves making her smile.

Though she may come across as a little distant and give off the occasional ‘go near me and I’ll bite you’ vibe, Yara actually loves being touched and held and getting that skin-to-skin contact with the people she trusts and cares about. She basically was never hugged or given much physical affection for the vast majority of her life, and has some pretty severe abandonment issues, so she’s very touch-starved. The first time Ace hugged her, she didn’t quite know how to react, but all she knew was that deep down, she never wanted him to stop. In terms of giving affection, Yara shows her love through acts of service. She might grumble about Ace leaving his stuff lying around, but she always picks it up and puts it back where it needs to be, and makes sure that he has clean clothes and enough food/water to last whenever he’s going to be away for an extended period of time. Whenever Ace falls asleep in the middle of a meal, she’s always patiently waiting with a napkin or a cloth for when he comes to again.

2. Is your OTP a battle couple? How do they work together?

They’re both on one of the strongest crews in the One Piece universe serving under a literal Yonko so they’d definitely fit the battle couple description! (Yara is technically second-in-command on 2nd Division under Ace, so they end up side-by-side in combat a lot). Now the fun thing about them working together in battle is their devil fruit powers. Yara’s Tōka Tōka no Mi (Pass-Pass Fruit) means that she’s basically untouchable to physical attacks, barring seastone or a strong application of haki (or the Yami Yami no Mi), and Ace’s Mera Mera no Mi, being a Logia, means essentially the same thing for him. So Yara doesn’t have to worry about accidentally hitting Ace with her sword (her devil fruit might give her an excellent defense but it has almost no offensive capabilities, so she has to make up for that with swordplay) and Ace can go wild without worrying about burning Yara. Being faced with them in combat is to endure both their terrifying powers and combat prowess as well as their (mostly Ace’s) insufferable flirting. 

7. Do they plan on getting married? Who proposes? What’s their wedding like? 

Oh, Ace was probably thinking about marriage even before he left the Moby Dick to chase after Blackbeard. He aims to live without regrets, and he’s found someone he wants to spend the rest of his life with, so why wait? (Yara probably doesn’t think much about marriage, but if Ace asked, she wouldn’t say no). In alternate universes where Ace manages to avoid his unfortunate canon fate, they get married shortly after Marineford, after they’ve recovered from their injuries. Ace wanted to come up with an elaborate proposal plan and spent weeks crafting something, scrapping it, and annoying the hell out of Marco in the process. In the end, Ace and Yara are probably doing something simple like looking up at the stars and talking late into the night and he finally just blurts it out unprompted. (Yara is a bit surprised at first, but she eventually responds with a smile and a “Yes, of course I’ll marry you, you wonderful idiot.”)

The wedding is kind of chaotic, but in the best possible way. It was one of those things where it was supposed to be a small wedding (at Yara’s insistence, she really did not want to make a big deal out of it), but more and more people kept getting added to the guest list out of concerns it would be rude to not invite someone, so the event turns into a bit of a who’s who of the pirate world. Whitebeard’s entire fleet is invited, as are the Straw Hats because of course Luffy wouldn’t miss his brother’s wedding for the world. Curly Dadan and the mountain bandits also come, and Dadan spends the entire time ugly-sobbing into a handkerchief. At some point, Shanks’ crew stops by and brings a fresh round of booze with them. Yara begrudgingly (after many long discussions) allows Ace to extend an invitation to Mihawk, who surprisingly shows up. They find a nice uninhabited summer island for the venue, probably one under Whitebeard’s protection. If Whitebeard is alive, he officiates. If not, Jinbei does. Ace definitely cries a bit at the altar, which makes Yara tear up as well. (Neither of them probably ever imagined finding someone who would love them this much). The celebrations last for a solid week, but partway through, Ace and Yara sneak away on Ace’s striker to start their honeymoon early. Afterwards, Ace takes every possible opportunity to refer to Yara as his wife. Saying it aloud never fails to make him grin.

10. What’s their sleeping arrangement? Who falls asleep first?

Ace can fall asleep anywhere, at any time, so Yara has had to learn to adapt to that. Whenever it happens, she just shifts around and tries to make them both as comfortable as possible until he wakes up. He pretty much always falls asleep first and will actively seek Yara out whenever he wants to take a nap. Ace’s devil fruit makes him the perfect person to nap with, so Yara almost never turns him down. It’s not an uncommon sight on the Moby Dick to find them curled up somewhere, having a rest. 

13. What do they love most about the other?

For Yara, loving Ace is like loving the sun-- he’s so bright and warm and passionate and all-consuming, but what she loves most about him is his kindness. He can befriend almost anyone and actively helps others even when it doesn’t necessarily benefit him to do so. (This is the man she watched spend days crafting a very large hat for a giant just to give him some protection from the elements, after all). Ace touches the lives of everyone he encounters, commanding such loyalty from his first crew that they were willing to come back and try to rescue him after he was defeated by Whitebeard, risking annihilation from a much stronger crew just to get their beloved captain back. She counts herself lucky to have been drawn into the orbit of such a bright, wonderful, absolute sweetheart of a man who brags about his little brother fifty times a day and manages to maintain his cheerful demeanour despite how much the world might hate him for the blood that runs through his veins. When Ace turned his kindness towards her, how could she not fall in love with him? 

Yara’s beauty might have first turned Ace’s head in her direction, but that wasn’t what held his attention there. He appreciates her steadfast loyalty to her crew and her sharp wit, but what he loves most about her is her honesty. Yara says what she means and means what she says, so he can always count on her to be straightforward with him. He was absolutely terrified of what she might think upon finding out he’s Gol D. Roger’s son, but when she smiled at him and assured him it changed nothing, he knew that she meant it. Whenever he has his self-doubts, he knows he can come to her and that she won’t just coddle his feelings, but will truly and honestly reassure him of the value that he brings to the world and to the lives of everyone around him. He trusts her opinion more than perhaps anyone else’s and feels like he’s found a partner who truly sees him for all that he is. His heart is in her hands, and he’s certain that when she says she’ll protect it with all her might, that she means it.

[snowberry-crostata]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks @dirty-bosmer and @thequeenofthewinter for the tag! It's always the push I need to share my stuff. And I actually managed to do it on Wednesday this week too!

I'm slowly starting to write again. It's still not as much or as often as I'd like it to be, but hey - some writing is better than no writing, right?Have a teeny little piece of chapter four:

It’s been five days since she moved into the Bannered Mare. Whiterun is a pleasant enough place, and there has been no shortage of work since her arrival. Her errands range from the trivial (the minor matter of a lost amulet) to the death-defying (the bushy-bearded wizard’s expedition into Bleak Falls Barrow). She’d talked the wizard into tutoring her in magic in lieu of payment for the latter, after finding herself flush with coin for delivering a golden dragon’s claw— recovered from an unlucky bandit— back to its owner at the Riverwood Trader.

Magical instruction is hard to come by in Skyrim following the Oblivion Crisis, so thickly had it sowed the seeds of suspicion among the common folk. Gytha already knew a few simple spells, passed down to her by a cunning woman from The Pale, but figured some practical instruction from a trained wizard would be worth more to her in the long run than his gold. Farengar proves to be a poor teacher, impatient and easily frustrated, but she still manages to pick up a few new tricks for conjuring flames and healing scrapes and burns.

Among her errands is a delivery to Dragonsreach’s steward, the cautious, punctilious Avenicci. His daughter– one of the local blacksmiths, whose fire must have been inherited from her mother– has made a sword as a gift to the Jarl. As he hems and haws over the intricacies of etiquette and protocol and the Jarl’s sharp temper, a thought occurs to him while the huntress waits patiently for her pay.

[scoundrels-in-love]

1, 11, 39 for the fic ask thingy? 🐝

Thank you for asking, bbee. <33

Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics?

Truly, nothing scares and overall upsets me more than having to write multi-chaptered fics. I finally managed to break my curse of never having finished one earlier this year and I am gritting my teeth and chanting that I can and will finish the ones hovering in my WIPs as well. One shots is where my heart is at, even when I link them together in long collection.

11. Link your three favorite fics right now

Oh boy, I am not good at picking favorites, especially such limited number. But okay. *cracks knuckles* You're definitely getting more than just three, though.

sometimes it's heaven sent (we kiss, make up on the way) - a Mashwood Pushing Daisies AU by @dingusttmax that has been living in my corner of my heart and my mind. Painful, sweet and hot all at once. Absolute perfection. His through the deep dark forest long aka Mashwood Princess Mononoke AU is also just. SO GOOD. Fuckin' fantastic. Emotional, creative, stunningly described.

blended in measure the Mashwood series by @tardisready is just superb, fantastic, devastating, cleverly plotted and told, stunningly hot. Can't give it enough praise, truly. Also, ace Vash rep!

maybe my heart needs to break to be sure a Mashwood piece that comes with several warnings that absolutely should be heeded, but whew. The emotions, the love in this are absolutely fantastic, devastating and will stay with me for a long time. Forever, I suspect.

Mycorrhizae a Mashwood piece that left me just! Mouth ajar in the best way possible. Leaning into cryptid/inhuman Vash all the way in, absolutely fascinating and left me in awe and sick with writer and brain envy.

get your hopes up a Stryfewood focus Mashwood piece but Vash is very much present. Hot, emotional and just all around winner for me.

"Always" is in the eye of the beholder a VashMeryl piece and insight in Vash's immortality and the lifespan of love versus loved one.

Sister of Bandits by @ladymaliwan a VashMeryl piece about Meryl finding Ericks and Meryl is so delightfully badass in this, just everything about this is so good. I love the expansion of Meryl's arc that feels so natural that the author is making.

Bluebells by @needle-noggins is a VashMeryl fic in progress that has me captivated and not just because I've had the privilege of few sneak peaks of what's to come. Dealing with Meryl's very reasonable trauma after well... Everything. And navigating a life in the after. Which is a theme that I absolutely love to see explored.

for reasons wretched and divine a VashWood smut piece that comes with suicidal ideation warning. Trans Wolfwood and stone top Vash. The way this Wolfwood is written, it won't leave me alone. If I could do him this beautifully fucked up just once, I'd be happy.

Research Findings a Vashwood piece by @bienchanter short, funny as all hell, sweet. What's not to love. Like Smoke Through your Fingers by them as well - amnesiac Vash with synesthesia, which I think is such a winning combination. And it's not because I am biased, it's really a great zombie apocalypse Mashwood AU: what's it really for (if it's not yours and it's not mine)

There are several more I want to link, but I can't find them quick in my history, goddamit. I've been lax about bookmarking things lately. T_T

39. Share a snippet from a WIP

From what I have lovingly deemed Demi fic - a VashMeryl post Trimax piece.

“I thought you had died.” 

I almost did. Everyone else has. 

But it’s not true - she is here, hugging him so tight it almost hurts. So he does not say that, does not say anything at all, just holds her in return. Her shoulders tremble softly, because there's few things he's as good at as making her cry, it seems.

Vash doesn't count minutes holding her (comforting her, comforting himself), lets the few stray stares drip off of him, them, until Meryl is ready to pull away a little and look him in the face properly. There is an instant urge to turn his head away, duck out of her gaze, as if she could read all his recent failures in his features.

He doesn't, because he didn't come here to run away again. At least not the moment they've met. (He is tired of running. He is more scared of staying.)

Send me fanfic writer ask?&lt;3

[saturnine-saturneight]

Writing share tag

Got tagged by @fortunatetragedy, ty Jamie!

I'm just gonna share the bit I worked on today. This is in chapter 7.

Content warnings for past, healed eye trauma, and a present near miss with a knife.

Context: Nat and Ron are forced to camp far away from civilization as they wait for Nat's infection to either heal or finish them off.

"Nightmare?" Ron asks.

"Yeah," Nat pants. "Yeah, I guess so." They're all sweat-slick and hot, feeling it stick their clothes to their skin as they shift to face him. Ron, for his part, draws back out of the tent, so far that Nat has to stick their head out of the entrance to see him sitting down in a camping chair, next to the beginnings of a fire. There's no second chair.

"Can you stay in there?" Ron presses the nose bridge of his mask down.

Hurt, Nat crawls back into the darkness of their tent and leans their back against the outer wall. They curl up, crossing their arms around a knee. "Yes, whatever, I will stay over here."

They can only see his feet from here. A noise strikes up - rhythmic, a blade on wood. Splints rain down onto the sand in quick succession, one after the other. He's carving. The countdown to a cut finger starts.

Nat curls further into themself and fishes for their phone, peeking sullenly over their knees to try and make it out in the dark. They take two tries to unlock it, and heave an annoyed sigh at the third, uncurling so they can see better. And ah, hell. "We don't have internet here." Louder, they call out, "Ron? We don't have any fucking internet!"

"I know!" his voice comes from outside.

Nat checks the available networks - "There's an open wifi." Two bars, kind of weak.

"Don't fucking use that!"

They roll their eyes and cross their legs underneath themself, against the soft pile of their clothes. "I'm not stupid. But that means there are bandits around here somewhere."

"Uhuh."

Silence falls between them again. Nat lays down so they can watch Ron as he sits there - his clothes are wrinkled from being slept in, and he's taken his glass eye out of its socket. He likes to keep it in if he thinks they're about to enter civilization, just because of the way people tend to look at him when he's without it. Makes the look of the scar running all the way through his eyebrow and down his cheek just all that much gnarlier when his empty eye stares back out of his face, veiny and pale pink. Looks like he's planning for a longer stay, then.

There's a piece of wood in his lap, right next to his whittling knife. His thumb is worrying over it, the way he does when something's on his mind.

"Where'd you get that?" Nat asks.

"Found it in the sand," Ron says, closing it in his fist like he's trying to hide it.

"Not a lot of trees around here, are there?"

"Sure aren't."

Nat fusses with the weave of their pants, digging their nails into a knot. "How… Did you sleep?"

"The way I always do," he says, "when I sleep in that coffin of a fucking car. Not sure what you want me to say."

All they want right now is a hug, is for him to rub ointment on their aching skin, to fall asleep in his arms and wake up to snoring. But none of that is on the table.

"Remember when you used to carve those jackals?" Nat tries.

He looks at them with something like suspicion in his eyes, and that hurts. "Are you angling to tell me they were shit again?"

Nat snorts. "You were what, fifteen? Sixteen? Cut yourself some slack, they were great."

"Lost all of them in the wreckage," he sighs, and weighs the piece of wood in his hand. "And man, don't act like you ever liked them."

"I was trying to encourage you to do better!" Nat gestures, exasperated. "You don't value -" Anything they do, but they don't want to pick a fight right now. They drop their hand. "Oh, whatever. No, I liked them. They were outsider art!"

Ron snorts dryly. "You can say that twice." He puts the tip of his knife to the wood and carves a long groove into it, taciturn.

"What are you making?" Nat wants to know.

"Dunno," he mumbles. "We'll see."

They watch him work for a moment. He's being so short with them. "Do - " Their voice falters. He doesn't ask, just keeps carving. So Nat tries again: "Do you blame me? Right now?"

Ron's knife slips, misses his leg by an inch. "Shit," he says, and sticks the cap back on the knife. He looks down at them, startled. "I mean. Dude, what do you even want me to say at this point? Is blaming you going to fix fucking… Anything about this? Literally any part?"

"I'm not asking you whether you want to say it out loud." They sit up, closer to the entrance. The morning sun paints their shadow onto coarse sand. "I'm asking you how you're feeling."

Ron watches them, something deep and unreadable in his eye, warm light brown like mahogany.

"What do you want to do after this?" Nat asks. He just shakes his head and snorts.

I've tagged so many people this hour that I'm just leaving this as an open tag x)

[greetingfromthedead]

C72: On to the Next Crisis

For more information on the series (tags, CW, etc) click the banner!

Series Rating: 18+ / Explicit

Chapter: 72/84

Words: 1.9k

No particular warnings for this chapter.

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Living life alongside Vash means there is never a dull moment. Misfortune follows him like a shadow, and you should have known that things in December played out way too well. The nagging feeling turns out to be right as reports of stolen Plants start to appear more and more often on the radio. It has always been a common crime for those ballsy enough, but the frequency is concerning, to say the least. Vash, too, has become a lot more concerned, and not only because some of the robberies have been blamed on him now. He suspects that his brother is behind this.

Most of the robberies have been taking place in the far north of the settled area, beyond November and September, with others happening further south too. You see how uneasy it makes Vash; he is being torn apart, unsure where to go or how to stop this. As you still find yourself relatively near December, you decide that it would be smartest to head north and try to cut off the bandits who are behind these robberies. Your gut feels hollow as you think about the possible outlook of things. These don't sound like your regular, everyday thugs; they seem to be a lot more methodical in their actions. The reports coming back are devastating too; many villages are leveled in these robberies, and others are doomed to die a quick death without their Plants sustaining them. Many people die due to these Plant abductions, and neither of you can stand idly by.

It takes you a week to travel north to November. It seems like so far nobody has tried their hand at stealing the Plants from any of the villages surrounding the academic city. You don't stay for long, choosing to move further and investigate the smaller settlements. Not all Plants have been stolen; those capable of picking up arms against the robbers have been left alone. Some report regular criminals coming for their Plant; others say people with strange powers, the Gung-Ho-Guns, came for theirs. Most think Vash is behind the disappearances, and you try to keep an extra low profile when it comes to him. You aren't looking to get an angry mob after him.

Every night you spend listening to the radio, trying to figure out what places could be hit next, but it is hard considering how densely the area is packed with villages and towns, many taking comfort in the proximity of November, the very first city.

"It sounds like they are focusing further west," Vash says, marking something down on a piece of paper. " They started almost northeast, away from November, basically circling it. I think they're heading east, towards September, which has a weaker military force."

"You think we should cut them off before they get there?" you ask quietly as you look at his notes on the barely lit paper by the gas burner.

"It's a lot of open sand, and we can't be sure where they are headed. There aren't that many bigger settlements between November and September; most of those are east of the land neck connecting the two areas, meaning they are under November's jurisdiction."

"So they likely will avoid them and go for towns that are supposed to be protected by September," you nod, understanding his train of thought. "They would probably head back north from the neck."

"Yeah, Edwards and Blow Up Hill are there; they aren't that strong, and they both have two Plants. They are probably the more tempting options to pick off before ransacking the villages near September."

"These bandits are fast, and we don't know where they would start..." You stare at the paper, your mind running rampant. "If we wait for them in the wrong town..."

"Then us cutting them off won't be as effective. Yes." Vash nods, his voice sad.

"So we split up; it's going to be either of these towns or the surrounding villages, and we can adjust as needed," you say, not directly looking at him.

"No!" He sits up a bit more and turns to face you. "No..."

"I know. Trust me, I don't want to let you out of my sight either, but if we want to stop this, then we have to do something. We are both capable, and if we have the support of the town... we can put a stop to this." You look at his concerned face with a soft expression.

"I know it makes sense when you put it like this, but..." he takes your hand into his.

"You really should worry more about yourself than me," you smile. "I'll be fine. You, however, will feel any gunshot wounds a lot longer than me... and I don't have a large bounty on my head either that could get me in trouble."

"Won't you look after me then?" He tries a different approach, an awkward smile bearing his teeth.

"It's only gonna be a short while. A few days, and hopefully it will help us put an end to these troubles." Your free hand touches his cheek, gently pressing on his birthmark. "People are dying. They need us; they need Vash the Stampede and his minion to come and save them."

"I don't like this plan." His eyes are filled with concern.

"I know, you have until we reach the neck to come up with a better one." You place a light kiss on his forehead, but it doesn't alleviate the wrinkles formed on it by his frown.

Vash has been thinking hard for days, desperately trying to come up with a good game plan, but nothing much comes to mind. Your plan of splitting up still seems like the most sensible option, if one looks at the facts. You can cover a lot more ground like this and protect a lot more people. It is more efficient, and he has no doubts about your abilities. But it weighs heavy on him. Tonight is his last night to come up with something else. You've traveled over the neck, the land bridge between the sea and lake of sand. Tomorrow, you would split up, heading for the respective towns that are about two days away from each other. You have Edwards, and he is heading for Blow Up Hill. Unless he can come up with something else.

He has been so consumed with worry and thoughts for the past few days that even his chatter has boiled down to planning, and for once, you can call him the worrywart like he has done to you many times before. It did coax out a light laugh from him, but he went right back to his talk of strategy and what the bandits could be planning and doing. He has drawn up a little map for himself where he has marked out roughly the locations of settlements, their names, and which ones have already been hit by the bandits.

You had told him to go to bed and get some sleep, but instead he has gone into planning mode once again, even under his blanket while you were looking out over the desert, trying to catch a glimpse of any car headlights. The radio plays as he tracks his pencil along the makeshift map. He tries to listen for more hints on where the bandits could be, but there is no news from this area. A few robberies have happened further south towards May, but they are nowhere near as frequent as in the northern area.

He is so consumed by his thoughts that it worries you, so you hatch a plan to get his mind off things. You've already made up your mind and made peace with the plan of separating, so him frantically worrying on the last night you'll be together, seems like a waste of time to you. If he's not going to sleep, then you will occupy him in different ways.

You stand over him for a moment as he lays on his stomach, his fingers laced into his hair as he stares at his notes. He doesn't even seem to notice you there. He is so used to you and so trusting of you that as long as you're keeping watch, his guard is down. You kneel onto your own mattress that is right next to his, and before he even turns his head, you're under his blanket.

"Won't you stop worrying so much?" Your voice is low by his ear as your hand pulls his out of his hair.

"I just... I don't want to leave you alone; I don't want to be away from you." His voice is sad as he sighs. He sounds so pathetic to himself, but to you, he can admit that.

"You won't come up with a better idea. After all, this is my idea, and I am always right." Your voice is quiet as you place a light kiss on his cheek. "It's only for a little bit."

His head turns to meet yours, a slight smile on his lips, yet his eyes are still sad.

"Even a little bit is too much."

"You'll get over it." You pull his face closer to kiss his lips, a tender and soft kiss locking your mouths together.

You feel him adjusting, turning to his side, his hand closest to you finding your waist, and it makes him freeze. He pulls away from you, looking into your mischievous eyes before trailing down your face and neck. He lifts the blanket a bit to peek underneath, and a deep crimson hue comes over his ears and face as you keep a close look on his expression.

"What's wrong?" you ask, amused.

"Where are your clothes?" His eyes meet yours again, and you see that somewhere deep, the awkwardness is overtaken by desire. Usually, he is the one undressing you.

"Somewhere over yonder," you say with a smirk as you let the blanket fall off your shoulder, revealing more of your skin to him. Vash has to swallow before your lips find his again; this time he is a lot hungrier.

His lips part with yours, his tongue pushing into the cavity of your mouth. You feel his hand move down your body, giving your thigh a squeeze before sneaking over your body. His fingertips start to push into the space between your legs, but you swat him away.

You click your tongue disapprovingly, and he pulls away with a surprised expression, clearly not expecting your denial.

"Your clothes are bothering me. Get up and take them off." You smirk, and Vash could swear you look so devious you could be the Devil for all he knows.

Still, he doesn't let you tell him twice as he gets on his feet, towering over you by your feet as you turn onto your back, your elbows propping you up, the edge of the thin blanket sliding onto your stomach. Your eyes are nailed onto him as he takes off his coat, shirt, and glove, revealing his scarred skin. He moves down to undo his belt, and he seems hurried and flustered, the redness still not completely gone.

"Does it make you nervous when I watch?" Your voice is still silky smooth.

He starts to answer, but it seems like his mind is wiped clean as he sees your knees move apart under the blanket, his eyes nailed to your lower half. This is uncharted territory for him; you haven't swept him up and away quite like this before.

"What is it? You want a treat already?" You smirk. "Your job is only half done, and you already want a peek?"

You could swear you saw his knees buckle for a moment as one of your hands reaches down to grab the blanket.

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[bonesandthebees]

So who do I think is behind this conspiracy? Aka what pieces of evidence can I find for each character? If I’m honest, I think it’s a case of a secret meeting Wilbur wasn’t a part off. It feels like a Schlatt thing and I’m not sure how involved Quackity and Niki are.

What makes this interesting is that, based on the war room exercise, this is a perfect blend between Niki’s ruthlessness and Quackity’s preference towards bargaining. There’s evidence that both of them know about it. But as you said, neither of them would risk Wilbur’s life having known him for so long. They are probably still convinced he’s on their side (and if we’re honest, Wilbur hasn’t really picked a side yet, but this will change that).

So I think that if they are behind this, they didn’t know Wilbur would be there too, not initially at least, because Quackity does warn him. There’s a big difference between choosing to have someone kill Tomys and his tutor (and yes that is what the bandits first assume Wilbur to be) and killing Tomys and their friend Wilbur (whom both of them trust and want as their consul).

Anyway, let’s get to my evidence. First up, Niki! We know our girl is very good at hiding her emotions, thoughts and feeling at all times. We see it in the garden conversation with Tomys. She acts pleasant towards him, but she hates his guts. We see her face darken when Sam smiles at him because Tomys ‘won’ the war room exercise. (Foreshadowing? Possibly)

We also get the flashback of the night before. [Niki froze, her fingers pushing into the soft skin of her cheeks. She blinked at her reflection for a long moment before her hands began to resume smoothing the oil onto her face again.] this girl did not know Wilbur was going. While this does not incriminate her, this does add to the idea that she did it without knowing Wilbur would be at risk, which makes her more likely to have a hand in it.

She also starts avoiding eye contact with him after he tells her. [“I don’t understand why you’re going with him though.”] Wilbur’s not meant to be there, he should have been safe, but somehow he’s going. [“And you accepted?” Niki pushed, still focusing on the mirror instead of him.] this one just feels accusatory, could have been about Wilbur’s general lack of spine regarding his father (I think Niki has a pinions about that regardless of any possible involvement with this plot).

Once it’s confirmed that Wilbur is going, Niki moves to sit next to him. She fidgets with his rings aka her nervous tell. If she didn’t know, she has no reason to be nervous about this. At the same time, she follows it by asking if Phil is made at her. (And I love that this entire thing is layered so it can be read 2 ways). But she does imply that Wilbur better come back. Could be friendly banter, could be genuine worry.

And for the people thinking Niki would tell him if he was in danger. She knows Wilbur can’t really tell his father no, she checks. So if she told him, he would still have to go or has no proper excuse. They don’t want this to get back to Phil. And what if he goes and then comes back and knows it’s her. Their friendship could be ruined. Idk, it doesn’t feel like something she would tell him. Or something she would know how to tell him. But there’s a possibility she’s quietly panicking about it.

(3/?)

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hmmm these are all very interesting points. as always I cannot say anything, but I love seeing these theories :)