#he's so preeeeetty

[whiskyarts]

you are not immune to au hugos

[inkykeiji]

even after all these years, i’d still fuck 2017 pennywise (◞_◟)

[affluent-havoc]

[undead-moth]

Personally I doubt that’s Helly at the very end but not because of any perceived cruelness about her but just because she’s so subdued and Helly is just never subdued at all. Even how she stands at the end of the hallway like she’s patiently waiting for Mark to say goodbye to Gemma seems so off to me. I would have thought that if Helly’s going to go back for Mark she’s going to do it with her whole chest. I think in season 3 Mark S. is going to say something about the equator and “Helly” is gonna be like huh???

[perinkling]

throwing rocks at my old landlord

[theirloveisgross]

.

[blu-razz-roses]

For the OC ask meme, 2 and 7 with any OC of your choice?

Thanks for the ask!

2.) Can they take care of a plant? What about a pet? What about a child?

I'm gonna go with... Reim for this one, and maaybe Pandora along with him since they're a couple. Reim LOVES plants. His two passions are plants and art so he is very capable of caring for a plant. Several, even. Pan not so much... She would forget to water them. lol I feel like it would be the same for a pet. Reim would totally be capable of caring for a pet, though I feel like he considers his plants to be his pets so adding an actual pet to their household would probably be more stress than they need. Because again... Pan just gets so absentminded, especially if she's in the middle of a work project. She would forget to feed a pet and feel SO bad when Reim comes home and sees the pet didn't get fed. Needless to say, because of this, neither of them wants kids because they know a child would be more than they could handle. They both love kids, especially Reim since he's an art teacher, but with their schedules and Pan's tendency to get lost in work and hobbies a child just doesn't fit into their lifestyle.

7.) Describe them in three words. Now let them describe themself in three words.

I'll go with Apocothea. She's... Unusual. A unusual girl who has unusual obsessions. Manipulative. She knows exactly how to get the things she wants and how to control others to do her bidding. Intimidating. She scares people, even those close to her, with how she talks and looks at you, and she just always seems to be plotting something...

Now, how she would describe herself... Perfect. She knows she is good at everything she does, no matter what it might be, and she's not afraid to show it. Although sometimes being perfect at everything does have its downsides, causing her to get bored easily. Cunning. She is well aware of how intelligent she is, and will not hesitate to use her smarts to her advantage to walk circles around those that dare challenge her. Or who just irritate her with their ignorance. Unstoppable. No one stands in her way. No one. She is a force to be reckoned with. If faced with an obstacle, she will gladly do what she needs to in order to get over it. Even if it means smashing it to bits and pieces. Or cutting through it. ...Or stabbing it.

Thanks again for the ask! This was fun to do!

[kinardbegins]

in dire need of a scene where tommy briefly mentions picking buck up and buck being like "uhh in case you haven't noticed i'm preeeeetty big and i doubt you'd be able t-" before he's suddenly hoisted up into tommy's arms and in his initial panic he wraps his legs around tommy's back and his arms around his neck and gets all flustered and tommy goes "like that?" and buck is a stuttering cute mess before he manages a lil "god that's so hot" before burying his face into tommy's neck <3

[thepastdied]

Eddie as a friend would be so sweet to you- cause everyone knows of his little crush.

But you, cause you're dumb.

Pure, sweet, sweet fluff.

"Eddiiiiie?" You'd call from the kitchen, the rest of the group in the living room.

"Sweeeeetheart?" He'd respond with his head perking up. Everyone would look over at him due to his high-pitched tone, giving each other giddy smiles.

"Can you help me grab something?" You'd ask while trying to reach a box of cereal that's on the top of a cabinet.

He'd trot into the kitchen and easily grab the box, handing it to you and pulling it away before you grab it.

"What's in it for me?" He'd quirk up an eyebrow and bend down so his face was level with yours.

As always, you'd blush as his chocolate eyes looked into yours.

"For such a hard task..? Hmm." You'd pretend to think, even though you're well aware of what he wants. It was just platonic, right?

You'd give him a quick peck on the cheek, and he'd give you the biggest cheeky grin before winking and returning back to the living room.

And it was reoccurring. Any time you'd call for him, no matter what it was.

"Daaaaarlin'?"

"Preeeeetty girrrl?"

"Hooooneeeey?"

Your heart would skip a beat every time. But you tried not to think too hard. It was just platonic, right?

Sometimes he'd want a hug, or he'd kiss your knuckles and say "It was an honor, my Princess." While giving you a fond smile with hearts in his eyes.

You were just too sweet, he'd think. You were a dear friend- and maybe you just liked the attention. But he never, not once, missed when you would blush, or tuck your hair behind your ear, and put your hand on his arm and rub your thumb there without even realizing. It was just platonic, right?

But that one night where the gang ditched on you for the planned little campfire in the back of your yard. Of course, it was planned.

You'd tell Eddie to come over anyway and laugh at his hushed yes! ( that wasn't meant to be heard by you) while he fist bombed the air. And you'd sit together, thighs touching but hands remaining on your lap. You'd watch the orangey glow of the fire glow on his face, his nose scrunching up when the smoke blew in his direction. You'd giggle, and he'd look at you with that lovesick expression.

His breath got taken away as he, too, looked at the glow on your face, your eyes glistening.

And then he'd turn his body to yours, his knee against your thigh and eyes unmoving at they stayed connected to yours.

"Sweetheart.." He'd whisper.

You'd chew on the inside of your lip, a nervous habit. He noticed, and almost chickened out.

He'd tuck that piece of hair that was in your face behind your ear that's been bothering him for the past hour, and then rub a thumb across your cheek, smiling at the way you looked down and blushed. He felt the warmth. It was just platonic, right?

"Eddiiiie?" You whispered back, mimicking the tone he always gave you.

He'd give you that wide signature smile, teeth and all. And then he couldn't hold back anymore when he saw you peek quickly at his lips.

He would snake his hand to the back of your neck and pull you in, lips firmly pressing against yours for several seconds before he pulled away.

Both of you would let out a breath, and then you'd laugh while he covered his face and chuckled.

"That totally wasn't platonic.. right?" He'd ask, lips puckering out like a 'duck face' and eyes narrowing.

You'd shake your head and lean back in, and he would grab your hands, placing them around his shoulders and really taking your breath away.

It was never platonic.

[hazbinshusk]

blitzø x f!reader. another wonderful request that's been waiting far too long. blitzø walks in you during a private moment and is far too entertained to be convinced to leave. and what he offers you... can you say no in your current state? 1.5k.

or, simply, blitzø walks in on you masturbating.

featuring: masturbation, sex toys, voyuerism, a cocky blitzø, oral sex (f!receiving).

“Oh, fuck…” you groan, eyes rolling back behind their half-closed lids as you press the vibrator more firmly against your clit. It pulses in a way that makes your jaw clench, your hips rising off the mattress. “Fuuuck…”

You moan as you press the toy inside yourself, pumping it slowly so with each push it sinks another inch into your soaking cunt. You ache with the feeling of it, tilting it each time you pull it out to bump it against your clit again before fucking it into you again.

Your other hand ghosts your fingertips up over your hip, your stomach, coming up to squeeze your breast. You whimper as your palm grazes your nipple, biting your lip against another moan as you pinch it and tug, feeling it tighten and harden under your touch.

“Satan’s… fuck, Blitz…”

“Heh.” An obnoxious voice sounded from the other side of the room, and your eyes flash open. “I knew you wanted me.”

You shoot up, grabbing a pillow and shielding your body with it. Your whole body shudders despite your mortification as the vibrator still pulses inside you and it slips out onto the sheets between your thighs, the vibrations obvious and loud against the sheets. “Blitz! What the—the fuck are you doing in here?”

The imp smirks from where he stands leaning cockily against the doorframe, his arms folded across his chest. His tail curls and unfurls, whipping behind him almost predatorily. “You called me in here.”

“Not in my— my house, Blitz,” you snap, your face stained dark with your embarrassment. You hug the pillow tighter against yourself, one arm banded around it to hide your chest, the other pressing the corner of it down between your thighs. Even feeling the dull sensations of the vibrations on the mattress beneath you is enough to make you quiver. Or maybe that’s… fuck, he’s still staring at you. “What are you doing in my house?”

He shrugs a shoulder, glowing eyes still set on you with a tingling intensity. “Got bored. Thought we’d watch a movie. Didn’t know I was gonna get a live show.”

“How’d you even—” you break off, pointing a hand towards the door over his shoulder imperiously. “I don’t care, just… for the love of Satan, please. Get. Out.”

Blitzø’s smile widens, his eyes falling to where the pillow had wilted, to where your nipple peeks out from behind the plush cushion. You don’t notice immediately, and Blitzø has the audacity to move further into the room. “Is that what you want?”

The tone of his voice drops into something huskier, teasing… and it’s enough to make your breath hitch. You can feel your thighs are slick with your own cum, and even without the vibrator against your clit, your excitement hasn’t waned. If anything, the tingling that runs down your back and lingers in your breasts makes you bite your lip.

Your words come shakily, and you curse yourself for it. “Wh-what are you… talking about?”

“Sure you don’t want me to stay?” he asks you tauntingly, still approaching the bed. His tail switches back and forth behind him slowly. “Preeeeetty sure you were just beggin’ for my help…”

“Blitz…” you mean it warningly, you do, but your voice is too breathless to be convincing. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” he continues, planting his hands on the edge of the bed and leaning towards you. “Don’t ya want me to show ya just how good the fantasy is as a real fuckin’ technicolour fuck?”

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry.

Blitzø jumps up onto the bed, crawls towards you. If possible, your face flushes further as he pauses to pick up the toy still dancing against the sheets. He holds it up beside his face, tongue darting out teasingly as though to lick it. “Ugh, Blitz—!”

He snickers, turning it off and tossing it aside. It lands with a dull thump on the other side of the bed. “Stop panickin’, tits. I prefer it right from the source.”

Blitzø runs his hands up your bare calves, takes hold of your knees and pushes them wider apart from where they’re still clenched around the pillow. You catch his smirk in the moment he leans forward, and without thinking, you reach up and wrap your hand around the back of his head and pull him into a kiss.

He grins against your lips, tongue sliding eagerly into your mouth to meet yours. You whine into his kiss, feel his teeth graze your bottom lip for a second before he sucks it gently, pressing his forehead against yours long enough for you both to catch your breath. Then his mouth is on yours again, swallowing the sound of surprise you make when he tugs the pillow out from between the two of you.

He urges you onto your back, laying you out completely bare beneath him. You feel his hand take hold of your hip, his claws digging into the flesh there firmly enough for them to prick your skin. He lets the kiss linger until you whimper into it, your body arching up off the sheets damp with your cum.

He pulls back with a cocksure grin curving his lips. “Just how often do ya think about me when you play with yourself?”

You snake a hand between the two of you to squeeze the bulge between his legs. Blitzø groans, eyes rolling back, and he ruts himself against your palm. “Same question, B.”

He snickers, kissing you again before lowering himself down your naked form, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your heated skin. You moan as his lips and tongue find your breasts, first one, then the other, lingering long enough to suck bruises into the soft, supple flesh. He grazes the point of a fang over the tender point of your nipple and your body jolts, a breathless, surprised little “haaah” escaping you.

He grins at your reaction, hand smoothing down the outside of your thigh as he smacks a loud, childish kiss against your sternum. Blitzø continues his path down your body, inhaling deeply when he reaches the apex of your thighs.

“Fuck…” he mutters, his breath tickling against your wet flesh. He doesn’t give you a chance to formulate a response; burying his face between your thighs and sliding his tongue against your cunt. The groan he lets out at the taste of you echoes your moan, your head falling back against the pillows. Blitzø hooks his hand under your thigh and hooks it over his shoulder, rolling his tongue against your clit hungrily. “Fuck, you taste like pure fucking… sex…”

You clutch at his horns with both hands, pushing your hips up to meet his mouth. Blitzø grins into your cunt as he lets you fuck his face, flicking his tongue over your clit again before sliding his it deep into your quivering pussy.

“Oh, shit, Blitz!” your voice is torn and broken with need, and he rewards the sound by touching two fingers to your clit. He teases it in tandem with the way he fucks you with his tongue, and your eyes roll back, your body tensing against the feeling of it. “Fuck, that’s— ohhh…”

Blitzø quickens his pace and you keen, fingers digging into the keratin of his horns as you cum against his mouth. He withdraws his tongue from your cunt only to return it to your clit, both hands grasping a firm hold of your hips, forcing them down against the mattress. He holds you in place and your upper body lifts, curling forward at the never-ending assault he gives your clit.

Blitzø doesn’t let up until there are tears burning in your eyes and you’re begging him to stop, tugging hard at his horns in the hope of easing the tension that keeps winding up and snapping inside you. Blitzø laughs into your cunt and even that is too much, and you squeeze your thighs so tight around his face he has to force your legs apart again.

The imp licks his lips, wipes his mouth with his sleeve as he crawls back up your body. The cocky grin is back, and he braces himself up over you. He presses his hips teasingly forward, and even the brush of his clothed erection against your over-sensitised cunt makes you twitch.

“And that,” Blitzø says, watching with a smirk as you try to steady your breath. “Is why I don’t knock.”

You manage to scoff, rolling your eyes. You shove at his chest, and he laughs again. “That is not the lesson here.”

“No?” he arches a brow, and you hear him fumble one-handed with the front of his pants. “Pretty sure it is.”

“Pretty sure it’s not, Bli—” you break off with another moan as he suddenly slides his cock up between your thighs. “Damn it, Blitz… fuck…”

“You wanna try and convince me otherwise?” he asks teasingly, rocking his hips until the head of his cock just presses into your cunt. Your hips rise reflexively, and you whine as the movement draws him a few inches deeper. Blitzø moans, face falling against your shoulder for a moment. He pulls back again, corkscrewing his hips slowly, slowly into yours. “You might wanna do it without moaning, tits.”

[meanbossart]

ASK COMPILATION: SHADOWCUTE, EGALITATION DU DROW, THE MAN WHO HAS NEVER HAD A COLD AND PROMISES OF FROTTING.

ALL I CAN DO FOR TONIGHT FOLKS, but I might end up doing another compilation very soon since the inbox situation is dire 💀

Thank you so much for showing so much interest in my character and my art! And an extra especial Thank You as always to anyone who has taken the time to leave a nice compliment or words of encouragement in my mail!

Now, onto the debauchery.

Surprisingly, no! While they may have been stuck at the hip since the early game, DU drow most definitely wasn't interested in becoming intimately involved with anyone at that stage - having lost all of his memories and seemingly kidnapped by mindflayers and all, he was a little on edge. Besides, Shadowheart struck him as rather juvenile in the earlier game, which kind of erased any possibility of his interest in her growing. By the time she """matures""" in DU drow's eyes he was already locked in with Astarion, and their friendship was also firmly established.

He did not. I think if he had been more observant as a Bhaalist he could have put two-and-two together - but he was far too self absorbed for that. He is under the impression that Helena (Orin's mother) had a divine pregnancy.

Besides women more often falling into a category that he is sexually attracted to (which doesn't affect his treatment of them by much either as long as he and Astarion are together, he may just steal a glance down their shirt or something) not really!

He has specific prejudices about women from the drow race for the same reasons everyone else has, but otherwise sex or gender doesn't impact his views. The one exception I can think of that may apply here is that he has a slight soft spot for mothers.

And don't worry, your english is perfectly fine!

Hello! I have gotten an ask about this before where I went much more in-depth, but I can't find it right now. The TLDR is that he doesn't care as long as you can still "pull your weight" outside of whatever the disability is. How reasonable his expectations are vary on how much he likes the person in question, but generally speaking he doesn't care and this would be something that bears much less weight than race or attitude - if they don't make it into a problem, he just won't bring it up.

He does have a vile sense of humor though; that might come up if he's trying to hurt someone's pride or, ironically, has built enough of a rapport with that he's comfortable joking around about such things with them.

Have a great day yourself!

I don't think there is anything wrong with relating to fictional characters, even if they are profoundly flawed or even straight up evil. Hopefully that's a vehicle for self-examination and introspection - after all, we are all flawed ourselves.

Honestly it is very hard for me to picture him old, at least in the conventional sense.

Truthfully, I am preeeeetty settled on DU drow being an immortal being at this point. I think it makes sense that Bhaal would have just stopped his aging at some point so he can be at peak performance while following through with his bidding, and that just seems to make sense to me based on prior BG lore. He changes over-time in other ways that I most certainly plan on drawing, but it might take a while for me to get there!

LOL, I think he retained knowledge of illness and disease just fine, so if he were to come down with something he wouldn't panic - probably quite the opposite. He strikes me as the kind of guy who wouldn't walk into a hospital unless a limb was dangling off by an artery - and even then, his friends probably had to insist he went.

Luckily he must has the immune system of vulture after so many years of eating half-cooked wild animals and rolling around in the cold dirt, so he very rarely contracts disease. When he does, he likely just tries his best to hide it or dismiss the concerns of anyone around him about it.

I'm glad to hear that! I remember being concerned that DU drow's scars may get read as rather exploitative or disrespectful when my art first started getting traction - I'm relieved that not only that seems to never have happened, but that people like yourself can actually gain some self-confidence from it!

Listen now that I know that there is an audience for it -

I'm not sure how I feel about simply making a book with art that already exists online and charging people money for it - especially when I have prints for sale that are most definitely of better quality than a zine and can actually serve to decorate your home! But I suppose if an opportunity like that popped up and it made sense, I don't see why not!

Oh he hates her guts, LOL. He would respect The Hag Grind for the pure comedy of it if she weren't so disgusting to look at or so unpleasant to talk to. He's particularly irate at her during act 3 when she tries to trick him into killing that little girl's mother, since he almost follows through with it (one of my few moments of lore save-scumming because I felt like SUCH an idiot).

He definitely didn't take up on her offer in act 1 for the failed tadpole treatment!

And as a bonus, here are some Viscious Mockery inspired taunts Ethel definitely bombarded him with during every fight.

[skrewtiny]

Still bummed about no Freys in the Season Finale, so to console myself, i bring..

Frey Suit drawings :0

The colored one is meant to be Fischer, as i’m preeeeetty sure he’s the one with the Blue Tie. The rest of these idk who’s who.

Do i really like the face? No. Am i going to try and fix it? Also no. ಠvಠ

also i couldn’t find a good ref for the snake design on the sweater, so i skipped it, i’m sorry :v

[heimeldat]

I had to paint him again. He's just so preeeeetty! So many gorgeous colors in his skin!

[anonymous-dentist]

A very quiet evening from the Merpepito AU

Read here on Ao3

-

Ever since leaving the Reef, Pepito has tried to stop thinking about Pepito's parents. Pirates don't have parents. Bad Pepitos don't deserve parents. So Pepito doesn't have parents, mostly because Pepito knows that all of Pepito's parents have a new Pepito now, so Pepito really doesn't have any parents.

But now Apa Roier is on the ship, and Pepito can't stop thinking about him. He's Apa Roier, he's Pepito's hero! But he hates Pepito, Pepito just knows it!

So Pepito does what Pepito does best: Pepito eats candy.

After deciding that Apa Roier isn't a Bad Guy, Captain Celbi made Misters Pacandmike go back and get the groceries they left behind, and he told them to get extra candy as a punishment for leaving the groceries behind to begin with.

It's been a couple of hours since then, and the candy jar is now hidden in a cupboard in the galley behind a big bag of lemons and oranges. Nobody knows it's there except for Captain Celbi and Pepito, and he'd winked at Pepito when he'd hidden it, so it's probably fine that Pepito is sneaking it before dinner.

Pepito crawls into the cupboard and closes it behind him. He's small enough to be able to fit between the bag of fruit and the back of the cupboard, so that's where he sits.

He pulls the candy jar into his lap, and he tries to open it, fails, smacks the jar with the palm of his hand, still can't open it, fights the urge to cry, sticks his nails under the lid of the jar and pushes until the lid pops off. He yelps as the lid smacks his nose. Ouch!!

Pepito's glasses are still broken. Miss Mouse said she'd fix them using Demon Magic, whatever that is, so she has them now, leaving Pepito blinder than ever. But that's fine, Pepito doesn't need glasses to eat candy!

Sadly, and definitely not while thinking about how much Apa Roier hates him, Pepito pops a candy into his mouth. He rolls it around with his tongue; it tastes like Yellow. Yum!!

Pepito loves candy. Pepito especially loves the hard candy that Sky Pepitos make. It lasts longer and it has more flavor and it makes Pepito's mouth tingly after too long and that's so cool. It's like eating bubbles!

Dinner isn't gonna be for another hour, so Pepito is preeeeetty sure that nobody will catch him with the candy. But, really, it'll be fine because pirates are evil, and nothing is more evil than eating candy before dinner.

But then the galley's door slams open and two pairs of heavy footsteps stomp into the room.

"I'm not talking about it," Captain Celbi says, sounding very frustrated. Uh-oh... "Don't you have a child to be looking for?"

"Eh, he's fine, he's a big boy," Apa Roier says, sounding not at all concerned about how angry the big scary pirate captain in front of him is. "But- come on, it's been years! What happened?"

"Nothing."

A cupboard opens. Something is moved around, scratch-scratching against the floor. Captain Celbi sighs, and the cupboard is closed.

There's a creak and another scratch, this one more drawn-out. It sounds like one of the benches at the galley's long table has been moved.

Apa Roier groans, "Whatever. Your chairs suck, by the way. What, did Bad steal all your good ones?"

Oh, so he's at the table. Why? Dinner isn't for a while, and Mister Pac doesn't like there being anybody in his kitchen when he's cooking. He gets distracted, and then the food gets ruined, and then everybody's sad, especially Mister Pac.

Honestly, Pepito hasn't seen Apa Roier since he and Captain Celbi were wrestling on the deck. As soon as Pepito realized that Apa Roier was actually staying, Pepito ran off to give his glasses to Miss Mouse, and Pepito has been hiding since.

Another cupboard opens.

"Maybe," Captain Celbi says. "We aren't exactly a Navy ship, you know. We don't have the money for fancy stuff like furniture."

"Wait, you're broke?" Apa Roier gasps. "No mames, man, aren't you a pirate?"

Something metallic slams against wood.

"No," Captain Celbi tensely says. A pause, and then: "Sorry, sorry, I-"

"No, I get it," Apa Roier says. He sounds like he's smiling- he always sounds like he's smiling. "It's fine."

"Yeah," Captain Celbi breathes. "It's... it's fine."

(What does Captain Celbi mean he isn't a pirate? Is he trying to trick Apa Roier? Because that won't work, Apa Roier is a genius!!)

"So you aren't a pirate, no big deal. But even regular guys have decent furniture. What the fuck is this, wood?"

Three knocks against wood. Probably Apa Roier.

Captain Celbi laughs. "I'm sorry? I don't know what mermaids do, but-"

"Mer-people, Cellbit. Don't be sexist."

"Oops."

"What the fuck do you mean, 'whoops'?"

More scuffing of wood, and then Captain Celbi is shouting and laughing and audibly stumbling into a cabinet as Apa Roier swears at him.

"Get off of me, what the fuck?" Captain Celbi shouts. Now he sounds like he's smiling, wow. Pepito keeps forgeting he can do that, he does it so rarely when there are people around. "Don't you know who I am?"

"Mm, yes, you're Captain Cellbit, a super scary not-pirate. And you're sexist."

"I'm not sexist!"

"Then say it right!"

Pepito covers Pepito's mouth with the palm of Pepito's hand to keep himself from laughing at the shocked little noises Captain Celbi makes. Apa Roier is super good at arguing. He's good at everything!

Pepito's smile falls. Right. Apa Roier is good at everything. He deserves a better Pepito, a Pepito that didn't do the Very Bad Thing.

"Fine," Captain Celbi dramatically sighs. "I don't know what merpeople do-"

"Much better."

"You're welcome. But we make our furniture out of wood. You guys probably use, like, coral and stuff, right?"

"Wow, and you're racist, too?"

"Shut up!" Captain Celbi groans.

Apa Roier laughs, and Pepito fights the urge to laugh with him. But he can't know that Pepito is here. Pepito is doing a crime. Apa Roier doesn't need to be more disappointed than he already is.

There's a long pause. The familiar rustling of Captain Celbi's coat, the swishing of Apa Roier's sleeves against his shirt as he moves his arms.

Quietly, Pepito pulls another candy from the jar. He puts it in his mouth, and he is silent.

"Still got muscles, I see," Apa Roier comments.

"Not as many as I did then," Captain Celbi replies. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Years, yeah. Crazy, right?"

Apa Roier laughs. Captain Celbi doesn't.

Instead, Captain Celbi says, "I'm still not going to talk about it. Not yet. But... I missed you."

"Aww! You didn't even know me!"

"I knew your face."

"I do have a very good face."

"You do. I'm very happy to be seeing it again."

"Just my face?"

"No- of course not! I'm happy to be seeing all of you. For the first time. Because you were... different."

Quiet for a moment.

Pepito listens intently. He doesn't know what this conversation is, but he thinks he likes it. It's a lot nicer than half of the conversations Apa Roier had back at the Reef. Less shouting. More smiling, even through Apa Roier's words.

Then, Apa Roier says, "You were different, too. But it's fine, you know? Just means we get to be different with each other now."

There's a wet noise, and Pepito has known Apa Roier long enough to know how he gives face kisses. Every time he gives one of Pepito's other parents a kiss on the cheek or the forehead, it's always loud and exaggerated and real funny, especially when Apa Mariana starts fake crying and runs out of the room because it wasn't Tía Melissa or Tío Slime.

This sounds no different, but it is followed up by something that sounds a lot like Apa Roier moaning, and that makes Captain Celbi laugh... and it makes Pepito fumble and drop the jar of candy off his lap and onto the floor of the cupboard out of shock.

Both Apa Roier and Captain Celbi go quiet.

Pepito sucks in a breath and covers his mouth with both hands. He is quiet.

But then there are footsteps, and then the cupboard is being opened, and then the bag is being moved, and then there's Apa Roier looking at Pepito with wide eyes and a red face.

"Is it him?" Captain Celbi asks.

Pepito's mind races. He doesn't wanna get in trouble! Apa Roier already hates him, and- and-

"Pinche Pepito," Apa Roier sighs in the Language of the Sea. "Come here..."

He reaches into the cupboard, and he scoops Pepito up and pulls him out into the galley.

Instinctively, Pepito's arms latch around Apa Roier's shoulders. It's almost like it was back when Pepito was a Good Pepito, but it isn't, is it?

Captain Celbi steps closer. His face is blurry, because Pepito isn't wearing his glasses, but Pepito does notice that Captain Celbi's coat is gone and his shirt sleeves are rolled up past his elbows.

"Are your glasses still broken, Pepito?" he asks.

Pepito nods. He can't look at Apa Roier, but Apa Roier is probably disappointed...

"Ay, that's fine," Apa Roier says. He bounces Pepito in his arms. "You and I can both be blind now."

It takes a moment for Pepito's brain to catch up with Apa Roier's statement, but, when it does, Pepito immediately panics, because where are Apa Roier's bottom two eyes? Apa Roier is half spider crab and half fish and half Ocean Pepito, where are his bottom two eyes?

No wonder Apa Roier ran into that post on the dock, he's missing two eyes!

Pepito sniffs and hides his face in Apa Roier's neck so he doesn't have to see the Sea Witch's curse.

For whatever reason, Captain Celbi quietly awwws; Apa Roier just sighs and raises a hand to gently rake through Pepito's hair.

"I"m sorry," Pepito silently says, but he wishes the Sea Witch gave him a different curse so he could actually apologize to Apa Roier because Apa Roier has to hate him now, Pepito knows it! Apa Roier loves his four eyes! He thinks they're cool! He always shows them off! And now he's missing two!

Pepito's body starts to shake from fear and frustration. Stupid Sea Witch! Pepito's gonna beat him up like a pirate would! Because Pepito is a pirate, and the Sea Witch hurt Pepito's Dad (even if Pepito's Dad isn't Pepito's Dad anymore.)

"Pepito?" Captain Celbi asks.

"Oh, Pepito, it's fine," Apa Roier sighs. "I'm not actually blind. What, is all this pirate stink killing your Pepito Brain?"

"Hey!" Captain Celbi protests. "We don't stink!"

"He's lying, Pepito, I could smell him from underwater. That's how I found you guys. Yuck!"

Apa Roier makes a horn-like sound, and a small laugh escapes from Pepito. It's hoarse and quiet and all he can manage without his voice, but it's enough to make him stop almost-crying.

Pepito misses his parents. They're funny and they always know how to keep him from crying.

"Your father is a bully," Captain Celbi tells Pepito. "He hurt my feelings, so I deserve a candy."

Pepito's head perks up at the mention of candy. He looks at Captain Celbi with a splotchy red face and with pink, tear-filled eyes, and Captain Celbi just smiles back with sharp teeth.

"And I think you deserve a candy, too," Captain Celbi continues. "After all, it must be very scary to not be able to see as well as you usually can."

"And what about me?" Apa Roier demands.

Captain Celbi rolls his eyes. "You, too. Don't worry, guapito, I didn't forget about you."

He freezes, halfway turned towards the cupboard with the candy.

"Well, gatinho," Apa Roier says, a slight teasing hint to his voice even with the red tint to the tips of his ears, "just get me the biggest candy you have, okay? To make it up to me?"

Captain Celbi's smile only grows wider.

"Of course," he says. "Whatever you say."

Pepito doesn't really understand what a "gatinho" means, but it's enough to make Captain Celbi happy, so it has to be a good thing.

-

It's apparently a good enough thing that Apa Roier gets to spend the night with Captain Celbi in his cabin. They're having a sleepover, lucky.

Pepito misses having friends to have sleepovers with. He misses Sunny and Empi and Leo.

Maybe Pomme would want to do a sleepover.

That would be nice.

-

A/N:

If you read this, please leave a comment or a reblog or an ask either here on on the Ao3 page just to let me know that you read it! I love hearing from you, and interactions keep me writing!!

[dapandapod]

Laundry day

Say whaaat! It's been ages since I posted my own writing on Tumbl! I kinda keep forgetting to hehe! This was wished for by my darling @firefly-party and betaread by the amazing @magdelanesingerin! Because apparenly I have a lot of Steddie written for her just rotting away in my drafts! PLease enjoy <3

On Ao3 here

"Man, I can't believe you let it get this bad," Eddie says, shaking his head solemnly, patting Steve's arm.

Steve stares at him in disbelief,  glaring at the little smirk curling Eddie's lips.

"I let it get this bad?" He is about one second away from just wrestling Eddie into submission, but to do that he needs more floor space than they currently have. Or to redo about three weeks worth of laundry all over again.

Not worth it.

"I mean, it is kinda impressive." Eddie says, looking out over the mounds of clothes the both of them accumulated over time in their shared flat.

More than half of it is black, so Steve is preeeeetty sure he is mostly innocent in this.

"Not the word I would use." He says, hands now on his hips, heaving a deep sigh. "Go fetch the brandzy."

"And they say you are boring," Eddie says sweetly, blinking fast a few times with long lashes, because he is a little shit, before throwing himself out the door, sensing Steve's retaliation.

"Who says that! Get back here, you ass!"

Eddie easily steps out of reach with a gleeful cackle, tossing one of the unfolded shirts directly at Steve's face.

Thank fuck it's at least one of the clean ones.

Eddie returns with the bottle but no glasses, but considering how bad they are at keeping up with the laundry, not creating more dishes is probably a good choice.

"You're lucky you're cute," Steve tells Eddie, who just grins widely, taking the weaponized shirt and throwing it over his own shoulder.

"I am lucky indeed," Eddie agrees easily, stepping in close, breath already smelling like brandy.

Their lips touch briefly, dry and soft, and when Eddie leans back he gives a cheeky grin.

"Very lucky," he says,  uncorking the bottle and stepping back further. "Especially for having such a kind and loving boyfriend, and for whomsteth I will help slay this laundry beast, if it costeth me mine life!"

Eddie takes a swig of the bottle, maintaining eye contact, and Steve just rolls his eyes fondly.

"What would I have done without you and your bad grammar," he huffs, grabbing another shirt from the floor and straightening it out.

"Probably less laundry, and more babysitting. Oh, and probably spending a lot more time styling your hair." Eddie plops down in the middle of the floor, reaching for the closest foe, a pair of ripped black jeans. Figures.

"Perfection takes time," Steve argues and accepts the brandy when Eddie offers it to him.

"No. It doesn't." Eddie says from the floor softly, looking up at him.  The brandy burns in his throat, and when he sits down next to his boyfriend and kisses him, his heart burns a little too.

"Just so you know, flirting won't get you out of folding. Or sorting the socks."

[deripmaver]

Which is worse, rape or murder? - Or, should Casca have died during the Eclipse?

Unlike most of my meta posts, this is one I'm making as a direct critique of a specific take I've seen. It's similar to my meta about apostle Casca in that regard, where I want to look at a specific idea and why I dislike it, as opposed to wanting to explore my thoughts on an aspect of canon. To be clear, this is only something I do if I've seen a take a bunch of times, enough so I know it's not a one-off. It's also not something I do because I want to engage in discussion with the people who've said whatever the take is, it's something I do in case other people who agree with me might be interested in a meta post that's more in line with their viewpoint.

I provide this disclaimer because, as I've said a few times now, the idea that it's the better choice to have Casca die during the eclipse is one that I just really dislike, and I make that preeeeetty fuckin clear. I can't control who sees this or who comments, but I did think I should make my stance explicit.

Berserk fandom is an absolute treasure trove of bad takes about rape and sexual assault. Considering the seriousness with which the manga takes rape, despite it's sometimes quite dodgy framing and portrayal, the fact that the fandom is Like That is fully a testament to cishet men's inability to consume media without turning into a brainless amoeba of toxicity.

I have to say, though, what shocked me the most was that this particular take, that Casca should have just died during the eclipse, was not from the dudebro side of fandom ('cause if she had they couldn't make their silly little "casca enjoyed it" jokes).

I'm coming right out of the gate with my opinion, which is a firm no, Casca should not have died during the eclipse, and the story would be weaker if she had. I'm going to presume during this analysis that the people who say this assume that her death would be instead of her rape, as opposed to her being raped and then dying, which would be... Horrific. Even more horrific than canon, lol.

I do have sympathy for some of the people who wish she had died, and in a way I understand, though I vehemently disagree. Some of the posts with this POV sound almost traumatized as they proclaim I wish she would have died, it would have been better. As this is something I've only noticed in the tumblr fandom side of things, where most people are women, I think this comes from women readers feeling furious and sick about one of the most vile rape scenes out there. In some ways its intentionally vile, in others - ie how grotesquely sexualized it is - it's unintentional. Then, of course, she continues to suffer in her disabled, infantilized trauma state. I hear these readers wanting to shout at Miura that he should have just killed her off rather than force her, and us, through reading that. It would have been kinder.

I have... Far less sympathy for others. There's a side of fandom that simply does not care about Casca (in a different way than the dudebros who don't care about her despite gushing about how she's peak tomboy waifu). It's amazing the veneer of progressivism these people put on as they say that Casca should have died, because she did not contribute to the narrative before the eclipse, and she certainly hasn't after. Going to get even spicier for a second and point out fandom's long history of wanting female characters dead because they get in the way of mlm ships, and how I think this is SOMETIMES simply another manifestation of it.

To be fully fucking clear, I do NOT think that being a grffgts shipper (censored so this doesn't show up in the tag LOLLLLL) precludes being shitty about Casca. I think tumblr's demographics, and those demographics' typical shipping preferences, mean that grffgts is naturally going to dominate. By simple statistics, most of the people whose opinions I hate are going to be grffgts shippers. Same with most of the people's opinions I like on tumblr tbh. I do, however, think it's prudent to point out old school fandom misogyny, and how I personally feel it's showing up in the fandom, and also point out that it pisses me off that Casca dying during the eclipse is at all presented as the least misogynistic outcome.

I'm also going to say now that this is firmly being kept in the realm of fiction. In real life, there are horrific discussions about how being a victim of rape defiles you for life, and that it's better to die without the "shame" of being raped than live with it. While I have to be blunt it's difficult for me to separate some of the discussion of Casca dying during the eclipse from that anti-survivor bias I see in real life just because ~we live in a society~, I in general think this sentiment is coming from a place of simply analyzing, narratively, which outcome is less misogynistic given how the rape in canon is portrayed.

Would it narratively have been better for Casca to have died? What about the impact of her death versus her current storyline?

First, I think I need to outline my interpretation of the eclipse rape. I don't think that the decision to have Griffith rape Casca was Miura simply being a misogynistic cishet dude who threw in rape for the hell of it. I also don't think it's OOC. Again, there's much to critique in how it's drawn, but not in the fact that it happened. Griffith, in his moments of feeling out of control and powerless, uses sexual advances to reassert his control over the situation - see Charlotte, or the wagon scene with Casca. A distaste for sexual violence committed by his enemies doesn't mean Griffith is incapable of wielding sexual violence as a weapon himself. In real life, there's a paradox where rape committed by political or social enemies is seen as the worst crime one could ever commit, while the mundane rape committed as a consequence of patriarchy is excusable and the victims should be blamed and shamed. Did Miura have the gender studies acumen to think about that when writing? I dunno, but neither does anyone who thinks he didn't.

I also think it's supposed to establish his actions during the eclipse as fully over the moral event horizon. Without it, it's easy to ask if ultimately, Griffith's decision to sacrifice his followers to a cruel death is justified to create a perfect utopia. With it, it establishes Griffith as acting fully on cruel, malicious impulse in moments of emotional turmoil, which puts his future utopia in jeopardy. I can't be the only one who sees Falconia as a ticking time bomb. Of course, this doesn't mean he needed to rape Casca, but simply that I think it was necessary to his character to do something that crossed that moral line. He could have raped Guts I suppose. Killerbambi has entered the chat.

While I think this might sound strange, I actually think it's immensely validating to have a character who is a victim not just of rape, but of rape committed by someone she already knew. That's genuinely unique in media on the whole, which plays into that paradox I mentioned earlier - in real life, the vast majority of assaults are committed by someone the victim knew. Having the story surround the continual, horrific trauma of betrayal, of having to watch the person who hurt you move on while trauma keeps you in horrible stasis is almost so realistic it's... uncomfortable. Painful. Hard to read.

There's no greater purpose to what happened to Casca. She didn't grow from it, instead she regressed.

Her general lack of agency post-eclipse is much critiqued in the fandom and like. Fucking yeah fair LOLLLLLL BUT ALSO... But also. Fandom on the whole can be so cruel about traumatized female characters, like there's no way they can do trauma "right." In Casca's case, her lack of agency is turned into a reason she should simply have been killed off instead, as though there aren't so many survivors who, while not as literally as she does, retreat into a shell of themselves and are frozen with trauma as the world begins to pass them by. Of course, the critique would be that she's not a real person, she's a female character written in a misogynistic way by a man, but I personally think this overstates Miura's issues with his portrayal of rape. To me, it presents what they think are his biases as justification for their own biases.

Time and time again, I see survivors discuss feeling validated by Casca's trauma response after being assaulted. Even the parts of the rape scene that I vehemently dislike, such as the hyper-focus on Casca's body and the physical reactions she's having, I've seen more than one person say they felt validated because they too had an unwanted arousal response during an assault. I'll still critique the scene, but regardless of if this was Miura's intention, its impact is clear.

I'll again plug this article by Jackson P. Brown, How Berserk’s Casca challenges the myth of the “Strong Black Woman.” Just to show a quote from it:

All of the action of the story after Conviction Arc is in service of restoring Casca's mind. During Conviction Arc and after, Casca has groups of women who love and protect her, with women as her source of safety. Guts is single mindedly focused on bringing her back, putting his body on the line again and again to protect her and restore her. I wondered about including Guts here because I'm sure I'll get some anon about the Beast of Darkness, which again fair LOL. I have complicated feelings on that, but mostly I think the importance the narrative puts on her mind and her protection is touching, and I think this outweighs how the negative things apparently mean that she should have died.

Her story and trauma, despite its flaws, is shockingly realistic and validating to so many people. She's also a key narrative component post-eclipse, and not just ~for Guts' manpain~ or as a helpless plot device, her story is her own. I've written about Elaine as a character and what she represents, but in brief, Casca doesn't disappear after the eclipse. Miura wrote Elaine with these moments where Casca comes to the surface, and while I wish we had more of her POV I think you can look at how she's coping from how Elaine reacts to the world around her.

I also think it's necessary to have Casca at the Hill of Swords. There's Guts, who Griffith torments in the way only a bitter ex can, and Rickert, who doesn't know what happened the day of the eclipse, but I think Casca is the key component in that scene that cuts through all of Griffith's posturing and Guts' anger. She is there, making the real, human cost of what Griffith did during the eclipse unignorable in a way that no other character could. It's one thing for Guts to be furious with him and Rickert ignorant, it's another to have someone who loved him so innocently and dearly trembling just at the sight of him. Let's not pretend that the depth of betrayal in this scene would be the same if you swapped her for, say, Judeau.

It's funny, Miura is quoted as saying that his initial reason for keeping Casca alive was to provide Guts an ever-burning flame of vengeance, an eternal reminder of everything that he lost during the eclipse. What's wound up happening, on a meta level, is that Casca provides the reader a constant reminder of what happened during the eclipse. As more and more focus is given to her PTSD with her revival, the cruelty with which Griffith acted (and continues to act) becomes harder and harder to ignore. It becomes more difficult to push it aside as just bad, misogynistic writing.

And also, quite simply, I like narratives about trauma recovery, and therefore I'll always find Casca's story worth telling despite my frustration with a lot of it. It's absolutely wild to me that for how often I see the fandom complain about her being "fridged" they think it would have been better to see her ACTUALLY fridged, no chance of coming back at all, just dead to fuel Guts' revenge arc. Would it really be better to have her be just another dead girlfriend? Really?

That's really what it comes down to. I like Casca as a character, and I want her to have lived. The people who wish she had died, many of them simply don't like her as a character. Not all, particularly in that first group I mentioned at the start, but many. Everyone has their preferences of course, but I don't think I need to respect when someone thinks a character has so little influence on the narrative that they should have just died, especially if that character is Casca.

If Casca had died during the eclipse, it would not have been a good death. It would not have been brave, or triumphant, or worth anything for her as a character. Judeau died to protect Casca, but even his death was not brave, it was just sad. That's the whole point of the eclipse.

To have Casca die that way would be a disservice to her as a character, far moreso than to have her struggle on as a traumatized victim of sexual violence. That's genuinely what I believe.