#i cannot blame her in the slightest though
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"lee stecklein: there's your consistent, steady, reliable defender; she's got a big stick, she knows how to use it well"
#lee stecklein#pwhl#pwhl minnesota#pwhl lb#daniella ponticelli#ma'am is there something u would like to share with the class.#i cannot blame her in the slightest though#i am also down very bad for lee stecklein#tall......#v speaks#my post
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"little" rant
thinking about how much potential dylan (klebold) had genuinely pisses me off. i can't read his diary anymore without wanting to punch my monitor in.
dylan wasn't cruel - at the end of his life he was, he took innocent lives and created a tragedy that even today people cannot get over nor understand fully, but that wasn't who he was. this was the same boy who took over his friends (erics) shift at work when his dog was sick and wanted to spend time with him, this was the boy who cried when one of his cats got loose due to fearing that the cat would die, this was the boy who struggled with depression, and ultimately the depression took his life. while some people may argue that, to do what dylan did, you have to be cruel, i don't agree. not in the slightest. i think to do what dylan did, you have to be battling mental illnesses that go unchecked because being a man in the 90s meant to be strong. to not let your emotions best you, and when you got bullied you were to put your head down and continue on. people nowadays have normalized speaking out about your mental health, to get help, and this is great! but also, it makes looking back on tragedies such as this hard, because our first question would be: "well, why didn't they just get help?" while they could've, 90s culture was still very much shameful of mental health, especially in men. it's still a problem to this day. and, actually, eric had gotten help - he had seen a therapist and had gotten perscribed Luvox to help. but it didn't work. infact, this medication is now known to increase suicidal/homicidal thoughts and increase depression. back onto my point, dylan wasn't "the monster next door", he was a kid struggling with mental health. he was a kid who was horrendously shy. he was a kid who was lead astray by a toxic mix of his own dark thoughts, parents who weren't aware how bad mental health could really be, a toxic culture at his school, and access to guns and pipe bombs. i feel as though if dylan had gotten proper help, he could've gone on to do great things - he was incredibly smart, getting into a program for gifted students when he was young smart. sue (klebold) has even admitted that she should've been more aware of mental health (or "brain health" as she likes to call it) while raising dylan and byron. while sue isn't to blame for what went on, i think that her parenting style certainly played a part into why dylans mental health got to the point where it was. sue mostly focused on getting byron help during the time dylan Really needed it, and when the van break in happened, sue gave dylan the choice on whether or not he needed therapy - obviously, he said no. i think that she gave dylan too much freedom and trusted him way too much on things that mattered, like therapy for an example. but, there's no perfect way to parent, and i am in no way whatsoever trying to say that sue was responsible for what dylan did!! i will close off by saying, while dylan definitely had potential and Needed help, and it pisses me off that he didn't get help, i am no way condoning what he did nor saying that he was "justified" in any way. he was struggling, sure, but he shouldn't have taken it out on innocent people. i am also in NO WAY supporting the "dylan was a follower" theory, i think it's fucking bullshit and eric and dylan both "followed" each other - i think their friendship was more codependent, and they hyped each other up to the point of no return. they are both at fault for what happened that day, and should both be held accountable to the same levels. thank you for reading if you've gotten this far!!! sorry i yapped so much i was expecting this to be WAY shorter lolol
#tccblr#teeceecee#dylan columbine#tc community#tcc tumblr#tee cee cee#eric columbine#eric and dylan#mental health#mental wellness#rant post#professional yapper#as u can tell i care WAY too much about this case. certified columfag#i do not condone#these guys r just fucked up and i like talking about it#kota rambles
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Hi! :D Can I request headcanons on the upper moon demons (1,2,3+ Muzan) reactions to finding out their fem s/o is suffering from depression? (Especially after she’s tried to hide it from them and everyone else, not once admitting to having it - frankly because she feels as if they wouldn’t care or take her seriously anyway (due to past experiences with her own family and friends), until she couldn’t keep up the facade of acting cheerful, laid back and positive all the time, it being obvious that there is something quite not right with her, even if she denies it, trying to downplay the situation, knowing full well herself that it’s getting bad).
(Aaaaaaa, I love ur headcanons 😭💓 I’m sorry if this topic is not something you’d be comfortable with writing for, it’s just something I’ve been experiencing myself lately for the past couple of months, it’s getting harder each day, kinda have been feeling empty, exhausted and genuinely depressed lately, no one that I know cares or takes me seriously, nor tries to help me overcome these emotions :), I appreciate you reading my request anyway!<3 sorry for kinda pouring my heart out, ik it’s cringe and unnecessary, sorry).
No, no! it’s completely okay. I suffer from depression myself so i’m comfortable writing for topics like these! I honestly love writing angst/hurt/+comfort so ya!! Thank you for requesting, anon!! (Also i’m happy you like my headcanons! Tysm for your kind words. I do hope you feel better and i hope these hc’s can cheer you up!)
➤ Uppermoons with a Fem!S/O who suffers from Depression
➤ SFW headcanons
including: Muzan, Kokushibo, Douma and Akaza.
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warnings: non-canon reactions, mentions of suicidal thoughts, angst, etc.
Muzan
Muzan isn’t an idiot.
He can sense from a mile away that something is in fact wrong.
I mean, you always seem off.
He just cannot tell WHAT exactly is wrong.
You’re a strange one after all. (Not in a bad way obviously)
Muzan has asked you a dozen times prior, seeking out answers, at least an explanation for your change in behavior and emotions.
He dislikes change.
But wanna know what he dislikes more? You being upset.
“My dear, could you please tell me what’s wrong?”
Of course he never gets anything out of you. You just cast him that alluring yet suspicious fake smile of yours and reassure him that you’re “okay” or “fine” or even “couldn’t be better”
Your response are so.. dishonest.
Honestly, Muzan not knowing what exactly is wrong with you drives him wild. He ALWAYS wants to know what’s wrong, what you’re feeling, how you’re feeling, etc.
And whenever he isn’t aware of what exactly your feeling or is catching on to the suspicions that your lying it does in fact anger him.
Not only does it anger him but it upsets him incredibly. Like, do you not trust him? Are you scared of him because he’s the demon king? If you were secretly terrified of his existence he wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest. That’s how truly humans are after all.
But for you this isn’t the case. You aren’t even scared of him. Just scared of your own thoughts and feelings.
A part of you wishes you could open up but the other part of you is like: eh, fuck it.
Who could blame you for not wanting to open up to the demon king himself though?
You may be his girlfriend, but still, like he would actually bring himself to care.
You see how vicious he is towards other humans. So why would he even bother with your silly yet powerful emotions?
You desired to open up yourself but however that never came so Muzan had no choice but to force it out of you one day.
Toxic, sure. But you were driving him nuts!
Like he snapped when he came home one night to find you rotting in your own filth, an empty stomach, disheveled hair, god, have you been sleeping all day?
He will ask you ONCE again if you wanted to talk.
To which you respond with a sorrowful “no”
Then you for real have the gull to make up excuses saying you’ve fallen ill.
Yeah, right.
That is Muzan’s breaking point.
It startles you when he snaps at you and actually gets mad.
This is his way of caring everybody. 💀
Whenever you’re depressed the feeling of getting yelled at by someone you love can hurt you or make you feel numb on the inside, you know?
I’m this case, it all just caves in and you sorta have an emotional break down in front of him.
Muzan is at a loss for words as you spill out your deepest and darkest feelings.
At least you’re finally opening up.
But damn, bro is shocked. Please give him a minute to adjust to all this.
At first he doesn’t know how to respond, instead, he will respond physically and just let you cry in his embrace as you vent to him and babble “i’m sorry” literally over 1000 times.
Muzan knew humans had depression, he reads a lot and is well aware of what it is. He’s just distraught this his own partner felt this way for so long.
By the way, did i mention he’s going to kill anyone who’s ever wronged you?
But worry not! He is going to be there for you every step of the way even with his low tolerance:)
Kokushibo
In the beginning, Kokushibo has absolutely no clue what’s going on inside your head.
I mean, if you say you’re fine then you’re fine right?
That’s all until your seemingly bad mood increases more and more everyday.
Yeah, that’s when his suspicions SKYROCKET.
Kokushibo has asked you before but gave up on it after many failed attempts.
He still has his mild concerns though so instead he observes you from afar.
He can tell something if off but assumes that just because you’re a human.
Honestly, he had some suspicions here and there that you may or may not be dealing with severe depression.
Guess what? Those thoughts he had were correct.
You immediately assume he doesn’t care and won’t care due to his demonic nature and his expressionless behavior.
Kokushibo began to catch on more and more when you started to refuse to eat dinner, you just refused to get up from bed and even take care of yourself.
FINALLY drops that stoic personality.
Caretaker Kokushibo to the rescue. Is immediately scooping you up, siting you at the table and convincing you to eat.
If you don’t eat he’ll just spoon feed you.
That night he took care of you.
That’s when he found out of your depressed state. No confession needed.
The two of you aren’t the greatest match because of your lacked communication.
No, you two aren’t toxic. Fights don’t even exist between y’all.
You guys just can’t express feelings properly.
But Kokushibo is always waiting for you to further explain how you feel. He’s satisfied that he now is aware of what’s wrong with you but also deeply destroyed on the inside.
You don’t deserve these harsh feelings. Why must the world be so cruel?
From that day onwards, Koku keeps a close eye on you and takes care of you more often.
Sometimes even ditches missions for you.
Yeah, he gets chastised by Muzan for it but he doesn’t care.
As long as you’re safe then he feels content.
By the way he’s killing off ANYONE who made you feel this way.
Douma
very, VERY dense.
Like does not notice anything.
He just presumed that’s how you are.
Now, Douma does feel emotions around you. You’re the only thing that has ever brought him joy.
You make that cold heart of his beat.
He’s very clingy around you, like, SUPER.
Wants to be around you all the time.
Which is why it’s a shocker that he didn’t notice immediately your drastic change in behavior.
Douma only really took notice when you began to distance yourself from everyone.
Even him.
Now he couldn’t care less if you ran away from everyone else but him? Yeah, there is something wrong.
So, he simply asks you if you’re okay.
In which you lie and say you’re doing just fine.
Oh, you are? Okay!!
Is immensely confused when you continue to distance yourself though.
Haha, humans are so silly.
Douma becomes really confused but brushes it off.
It’s all surprising that he can come off so dense when it comes to this. I mean, you’re a demon? come on mannn…
Yeah, he does feel emotions around you but doesn’t fully understand them, you know?
I swear, Douma can be naive around you sometimes despite being the sadistic and masochistic demon he is.
It takes him a long ass time to realize how much you’ve been suffering.
Please do not get angry with him though. Remember that he is new to all this!
So the first emotion he feels once he finds out about your depression is EXTREME guilt.
REAL GUILT.
Flabbergasted by how fucking long it took him to find out the truth.
*Mentally facepalms himself*
His petty little followers don’t count. The man may have spend his last few hundred years listening to peoples woes and worries but his emotional responses towards their feelings were never even genuine.
To be brutally honest, Douma is hopeless.
Yeah, he wants to help you, he really does.
Just has no idea how to:(
However, if you show him how to then he will catch on fairly quickly and become the master when it comes to taking care of you and helping you cope with your depression.
Similar to Kokushibo, Cue caretaker Douma to the rescue‼️‼️
He doesn’t mind taking care of you. Honestly he absolutely adores it.
You’ve always been there for him, you taught him how to feel again. He’s so grateful that he’s finally helping you after all this time.
Lends you extra cuddles and kisses but if you’re the type to want your space when you’re depressed he’ll try his hardest to understand and be there for you emotionally instead! He just wants to be over you all the time and make sure you’re doing well, ya know?
Okay, he may lose his touching privileges but don’t think he isn’t gonna let his guard down!
From there on out, He keeps an eye on you at all times. He needs to make sure your taking care of yourself!
Douma also developed the tendency to whisper sweet nothings into your ear, his advice is surprisingly effective by the way. I mean, his advice towards you is actually genuine so that must be why.
“Oh, Y/N, my lovely lotus, i despise how you carry such a heavy burden. I wish i could take all these negative feelings away from you!”
Akaza
Like Muzan, he isn’t easy to take for a fool.
Notices the very second your behavior changes.
Akaza, being the most amazing boyfriend he is will obviously attempt to strike up a conversation, desperately wanting you to open up and communicate with him properly.
Becomes disappointed when you just brush it off as “not important”
Like what? It IS important!
YOU are MORE than important to him.
Akaza is not blind, he won’t submit nor play dumb towards your responses
Absolutely hates making you uncomfortable and would hate to force you to tell him how you’re feeling but desperate times call for desperate measures.
This is just his way for caring about you.
At first, he will try each and every day to be there for you and try and talk with you.
Sits on the side of your bed as your laying down, curled up, unmoving and will just kiss your forehead and give you time to open up.
Akaza will bug you consistently, fishing a response from you, anything, just anything!!
“Sweetheart, could you tell me what’s going on with you?”
Nothing. Just that same old response he hears every damn time.
“I’m fine”, “Nothing is wrong!”, “It’s okay, i’m doing well, just tired.”
Hatessssss when you lie to him:(
Akaza feels beyond powerless.
Your feelings are very important to him!
Sure, he hates weak people, hates any other human being he encounters but you’re different!
Akaza knows deep down you’re suffering from depression but desires for you to confess it yourself in your own time.
But at the end of the day he had to force it out of you.
Felt insanely guilt but what else could he have done?
Everything else he’s ever done for you got him nowhere due to your own stubborn dds
Akaza is not mad though.
He could never be angry with you for having depression i mean, you can’t help it.
We all know how overwhelmingly overprotective he is so the very moment he finds out a friend of family member caused you to feel this way and shut the world out he is going to throw hands.
Like, how dare they?!
Akaza is another caretaker! Skips important missions for your sake despite him knowing the punishments that come along with it.
Akaza won’t mind taking care of you but he also needs you to learn how to take care of yourself if you want to truly heal so he’ll be there for you every single step of the way in order for you to accomplish that!
Another thing that’ll happen is that Akaza will become more needy and clingy than usual. He must protest his precious girlfriend at all costs.
Kisses you and reminds you how much he loves you.
Fucking HATES it when he’s forced to leave you (when he’s summoned to the infinity castle)
But the very second he’s home he’s relieved.
On those days you’re feeling super depressed to the point where you can’t get up Akaza will cool you breakfast and serve it to you in bed. Will even feed you if he has to then eventually he’ll help you get up and offer you all the motivation and energy you need to make it throughout the day.
Bro is a gentleman.
Literally is always going to be there for you, love you unconditionally.
And most importantly…
Beat the living HELL out of whoever worsened your depression‼️‼️
I hope you enjoyed these headcanons! To all those out there suffering currently i can promise you that it’s going to be okay. You got this! <3
#demon slayer#kny#kimestu no yaiba#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer headcanons#kny x reader#kny headcanons#upper moons#upper moons x reader#upper moon headcanons#muzan kibutsuji#muzan x reader#muzan headcanons#kokushibo#kokushibo headcanons#kokushibo x reader#douma#douma x reader#douma headcanons#akaza#akaza x reader#akaza headcanons#kny demons#demon slayer demons#demon slayer anime#demon slayer manga#x reader#fem!reader#demon slayer angst#headcanons
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So did season 3 Zuko genuinely believe Ozai loved Azula? Is that why he was okay with ratting her out to him with no fear of what he might do to her?
Zuko is a 16-year-old boy that was a victim of abuse pretty much his entire life. It took him THREE WHOLE YEARS to realize that their father disfiguring and banishing him for speaking out of turn/against a cruel plan, and refusing to fight him, was, in fact, a deeply horrible thing for Ozai to do and it was all Ozai's fault.
Is it fair or realistic to expect him to understand that, even though Azula managed to live up to Ozai's insane expectations for his children, it was still unfair of him to put so much pressure on her and that it was only a matter of time before she cracked under it? Can we really blame him for not realizing Azula is being psychologically abused when she's in denial about it herself and actively trying to convince everyone around her that everything she does is effortless? And when the adults he actually trusts, aka his mother and uncle, are ALSO not aware of what's going on right in front of their faces?
Can we blame a child who is desperate to get even the slightest bit of approval and affection from his parent, and never achieving it, for thinking their sibling has an easier, enviable life because they ocasionally get some conditional love?
Can we expect someone who just heard their parent say the words "Your sister was born lucky, you were lucky to be born" to just casually ignore that very clear "I wish you were dead, you don't deserve to exist" and focus only on the implications of "Wait, is he dismissing my sibling's life-long attempts, and success, of living up to his expectations as sheer dumb luck, not hard work and genuine talent?"
I've said once, I'll say it again: Zuko's attempts to survive all the trauma he endured are basically the same as someone who is panicking while drowning and trying to pull under the person that is trying to rescue them because they cannot think clearly in such a dire situation.
It's no coincidence that the two main moments in which we see him having compassion for Azula (in The Southern Raiders and then in the finale post Agni Kai) take place AFTER he has turned his back on Ozai and found a group of people who love and support him. He is now watching the situation from the outside, from a safe distance, not while in the middle of all the chaos, unsure if he's gonna make it.
And for the first time, Zuko can actually see his sister. A prodigy, but still someone that is trying to meet impossible standards. A brave, fierce, DANGEROUS warrior, but also a deeply traumatized child.
There's a reason Aaron Ehasz, the head-writter and executive producer of the show, has repeatedly said that, if Avatar had gotten a fourth season, he would have liked Zuko to essentially be Azula's Iroh and help her heal and redeem herself. He is literally the only other person in the world that knows what being Ozai's child is like, even if he was the scapegoat while she was the golden child.
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i love the fact that dottore just somehow was able to successfully treat collei's eleazar, and it's always just made me think 😭😭 who in his life had it to the point where he mastered caring for a disease with no cure? insane lore for a mad scientist archetype!! also hello (: this isn't the end of my hiatus, but i'm trying to play genshin more again now that i have the time so dottore brainrot is back!!!! c.w: blood
all the ways to kill the one you love (1.6k)
When you fall to your knees in the dark hall, you can only pray that the person in front of you knows that it wasn’t of your own volition. The only thing to blame is your own negligence for getting you into this situation – perhaps you’d be in better shape if you had been more prepared for your Eleazar to break out.
Because from the moment you set foot into the frigid country’s very own Zapolyarny Palace, it has been in your absolute best interest to stay under the radar. Coming from the Akademiya, you know well that you are not particularly popular with any of its inhabitants.
Though, that isn’t your concern. You’re here to determine if the Fatui have been able to locate the missing Dendro archon as a vessel of Irminsul; a child of Sumeru and vision holder in the Akademiya. Effectively, you don’t intend to make any lasting friends, so to say. You’re unsure of the Akademiya’s plans with the information you find, but whatever you glean from your time here will be insignificant once out of your hands.
It was easy to convince the Grand Sage that your place amongst the heretics in Snezhnaya would be with their soldiers, despite the fact that your student-life had been plagued by your condition. Because the simple truth is that they didn't care about the technicalities, as long as you’re able to relay the info they require, they could care less if you died with it.
Your time in the Fatui itself has been anxiety-inducingly bleak, though, and certainly nothing like what you expected. Low ranking soldiers are treated as employees, almost, sent from place to place in order to protect property and officials. But nothing has ever made you rethink your decision to accept a mission as much as this.
The hydro vision you keep tucked away in your uniform should be helping to push down the pain – it has always helped. But be it the cold weather or something else entirely, your incorrigible disease seems to be flaring up more than usual. Even if you were blessed with a portion of Celestia's magic, you have been reminded from a young age that power is dangerous; and it cannot fix everything.
However, your vision has never failed you so noticeably until now.
The awful warmth in the back of your throat is a stark contrast to the cool tile beneath your hands. Your bunkmate is somewhere behind you, you think – she had been the one to find you, after all, clinging to a wall with a hideous mixture of blood and mucus pooling at your chin.
You call out to her, voice weak as you attempt to stand. No response. The unknown doctor you had been led to is still silent so far, possibly making no move simply to see what you will try to do in your state. You can feel his eyes on you as you croak,
“Has she gone?”
Something in the quiet air sparks as your voice breaks the silence. You look up begrudgingly, curious to see who you’re at the feet of even as your skin tingles painfully. You’re disappointed to find that the man’s face is obstructed by a mask that is vaguely owl-like, leaving nothing but the very corners of his lips visible.
You don’t recognise him in the slightest, and yet, he frowns.
Then, in his expensive slacks and in a way that surely creases his boots, the doctor kneels down to your level. Your heartbeat quickens intermittently as your eyes track his slow movements. You can’t help but be shocked by the sudden display of attention when he had clearly been resigned to only watching you before.
It’s difficult to look right at him when there are no eyes to find, so you can only look at the ground as the doctor studies you.
You want to speak badly, to ask him to help you, but the words catch regrettably in your throat. Brows tightening, you throw a shaky hand over your mouth as a cough forces its way up. And too quickly, the blood that had pooled at the back of your throat empties into your mouth without warning, the taste instinctually pulling a whimper from you.
A brief chuckle sounds from above you.
All you can register from that point on is a gloved hand slipping under your chin, tipping your head upwards. You attempt to shake your head in protest. Yet, all the Doctor does is wipe the blood that pebbles from your lips with a careful thumb.
“How pitiful” The Doctor finally speaks, his rough voice thoughtful. “I’d thought you better than this.”
Your brows wrinkle in confusion as his thumb lingers near your mouth. He provides no explanation to his mysterious remark, though, merely turning your chin from side to side in an effort to look at your face in its entirety. Your chest burns with each movement.
Too helpless to do anything but stare at him, an old image slowly begins unfolding before you – though his face is covered, canine teeth are visible as he teases you. You’re almost certain that if he took off his mask, you’d be staring into the crimson eyes of someone you’d never forget.
Without thinking, you grasp at his wrist. The painful buzz solidifies between you without the barrier of a glove, but you don’t back down.
“Zandik?” You whisper, brows creasing in concern. “How…?”
The Zandik you know is dead. This much is clear, no matter the way you look at it. But until now, you’d thought the former was undisputable.
“You disappeared. I thought you were gone, but now you're with them?” You whisper harshly, sadness leaching into your voice.
After a few quiet moments, he drops your chin with a deep hum and pulls himself away from you.
You crumble in on yourself and cough excess blood into your hand almost instantly, though he does nothing to help you this time. When you’ve caught your breath, he says,
“You’ve always been one for flattery. I have never been any better than them.”
That’s not true. It’s not. You want to yell it at him, to insist until this awful cold facade of his ceases and you’re able to see the same person you’d gone to the Akademiya with. The same person who, despite having been hardened by the people that had outcased him, still flinched when insulted. The only one who would touch your hands that were inured with violet scales, and who valued your ability to forgive those who have hurt you.
He was a person whose interest in things stemmed from his want to improve. Who’s status as an outcast came from his inability to compromise when it came to his life’s work, his desire to evolve. You found solace not in his frigid company, but in the way your condition garnered the most intimate of his attention.
With the very same material that was enough to consider him a danger to Sumeru, he had successfully fought off the more gruesome symptoms of your Eleazar. With you, he was understood; needed. But with him, you finally felt whole. Both were things neither of you were ready to give up.
“Flattery.” Your voice is broken as you stare at the ground, body propped up by nothing but your weak forearms. “It’s so like you to insist anything good about you is false.”
A small frown is visible around the corners of his pointed mask.
“What brings you to Snezhnaya, ___?”
“...I’m dying, Zandik.” You say quietly. He’s the first person you’ve admitted it to, even before yourself. In your student years, you’d been hopeful, confident, that your hydro vision would be enough to sustain you through a normal life. The very archon it stands for vies for equality on all fronts, between good and evil as well as sickness and health.
But now, you know it isn’t enough. You’re old enough to look past the thin veil that has been protecting your fragile mind all these years and see the truth – that you were never meant for a long life.
“What a headache.” He sighs it out placidly. You can’t find it in yourself to meet his eye as he kneels before you once again, every ounce of love he had once felt for you gone, yet somehow seeping from the cracks of his resolve all the same.
You fully prepare yourself for the inevitable result of being told to leave, to seek refuge with a real doctor and not test fate in his hands. But, he doesn’t. Instead, a gloved hand reaches for your shoulder, pushing you up your knees. Your muscles sting with over-exertion as the cloud of hair leaves your face.
“How long have you been aware?”
Your back aches as you wipe the blood from your lips.
“A couple weeks.” You answer quietly, your words like a ghost in the frigid winter air.
Dottore doesn’t answer immediately, a frown etched into his face permanently. Your breath catches as he reaches into his pristine white jacket. Gingerly, he wipes the blood from your lips with the steady hands of a surgeon. The action is not necessarily cold, but it is not full of the same warmth you remember either.
His voice is guttural when he says, “You’re foolish for coming here.” for coming to me.
You want to laugh, to half-heartedly agree with him. You aren’t sure that you would have let your bunkmate bring you here if you knew that this was the fate you were going to meet. Of all the people in the world, Dottore is the only person who would be able to call you on your bluffs – on all of the reasons you’re here, and every reason the Akademiya has to value you.
You could become nothing very quickly, as soon as he wishes.
But, there's something inside you that wrestles with the fear -- something soft and carefully hidden that refuses to leave this revelation, this reunion, behind.
And so, you force out a soft, “I know.”
You both know his harsh words don’t hold any real meaning. After all, the fearsome Harbinger is equal to you in this moment, on his knees just as you are. And if nothing else, it gives you hope that things are not as lost as they seem.
tartagilicious 2023
#genshin impact#dottore#dottore x reader#genshin impact x reader#fatui x reader#fatui#genshin impact fandom#genshin fanfic#genshin impact fluff#genshin dottore#dottore genshin#il dottore
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Qrow’s Semblance is Fortune! 🐦⬛
I talked about this briefly before, having speculated that Clover’s pin carries on his good luck after death or that Qrow has just done a lot of training mentally and/or physically. @benevolentslut had some amazing additions as well & I want to sum up this theory for you as best as I can as we reached similar conclusions even before I had read her reblog.
Qrow has only been in the negative all his life, mentally and emotionally.
This man has had barely any positivity in his life.
"His whole life he's been the epitome of cynicism and pessimism." - @benevolentslut
Qrow grew up under constant stress & threat of those around him.
Needless to say, but I don't think he could trust anyone he grew up around except maybe Raven.
Then he has to constantly worry about being found out by the other huntsmen! Also growing up with the threat of huntsmen and Grimm the entire time!
Then Oz drops the whole Salem problem on him & I'm sure that didn't help his mental health in the slightest!
"His sister leaves him and their team, and then summer disappears." - @benevolentslut Yeahhhh he is losing everyone close to him in one way or another! That cannot be a fun experience!
This look like the face of a guy that's doing okay?
I'm just going to copy paste this here as I hadn't noticed it & it feels worth noting that the intensity of his misfortune seems to increase with the increasing mental strain.
While we don't know for sure that all of these things are a byproduct of Qrow's misfortune semblance, it certainly isn't out of the realm of possibility. Notice the worsening of his mental health resulting in potentially more disastrous outcomes. 😰
"we see him blaming himself constantly for everything that goes wrong, and it only causes that to become more true." - @benevolentslut
She lists a lot more examples of where Qrow's semblance has potentially worked this way in the original post. Clover comes along & starts lifting him up, giving him actual hope. He now has a little seed of hope planted in him. 🍀
Wow, Qrow is doing so good for himself lately! I sure hope nothing-
Oh... oh no. From his perspective Ruby & Yang could literally be dead. He is stricken with grief as he watches it all unfold & probably sunk back down into a negative spot mentally. He may even blame himself in some way.
When you're this low, there's a saying that goes "nowhere to go but up."
I firmly believe that Qrow would see things that way, especially after reaching his lowest point. He can only do his best to help those around him. Though he's the most alone he's ever been, he's becoming a part of a new community where people help one another. In that sense, it's impossible to be alone. In spite of it all, he slowly finds his mental health improving! Ruby's message to the world is bringing people together! 🌹
"and we see him take up clover's role, both in terms of how he's helping out around shade, and more literally, in the unmissable parallel where he catches the guy who trips." - @benevolentslut
Ruby & Clover have both filled him with hope & he's more optimistic than he's ever been, which results in bursts good fortune! ✨
There's also already a premise for shifts in mental health and trauma resulting in semblance evolution.
Cinder betrayed Neo & so she winds up in the Ever After & through her form changes is showing us that she now has negative feelings towards Cinder.
She's so upset that her semblance starts to make multiple clones of her which it has never been able to do before. Her Overactive Imagination semblance has evolved due to the state of her mental health.
Her semblance begins to evolve so much to where she can create entire architectural structures and buildings out of it!
She can even use it to talk through the people she recreates, something she's not physically capable of herself.
While we do have to take into account that the Ever After plays by rules that are a little bit different at times; this absolutely confirms that semblances, much like people, can change & grow! 💪
My conclusion: Volume 10 & beyond will show Qrow's personal semblance evolution as he finds out that his power is actually Fortune itself & the ability to control it, good and the bad.
#oh god I have to compress the gifs so much because of tumblr's gif size limit 😩#thank you for the theory fuel & the supporting points you gave!#maybe I'll do a youtube video on this topic when I come off of my semi-hiatus#wow I told myself I'd keep it brief but here we are; I'm procrastinating packing my bags & making rwby theories#I just think Qrow is a very fascinating character & if we are right about this; he will be an important player in volume 10 & onward#imagine having a guy who can manipulate fortunate on your team; that's actually so powerful as an ability if he can master it#It's not so much that the Clover ebi pin is good luck; but that Qrow himself is becoming a beacon of good fortune#Fair Game lives on in his heart & the hope he's been given even if Clover isn't here to see it#please let me know what you think in the replies; reblogs; whatever; if you have anything to add I'd love to hear all about it!#rwby theory#rwby volume 10#rwby volume 9#fair game#qrow x clover#rwby#qrow branwen#greenlight volume 10#mine#op
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Moonlight And The Break Of Dawn - Astarion (Part 1/5)
Content Warnings: Mentions And Reference To Abuse, Trauma and Consent Issues. Canon Compliant Trauma, Violence and Threat. Canon Divergent Powers. No Use Of Y/N, Tav Supplemented. Gendered Pronouns Used (she/her). Not Beta/Proof Read.
This was written for a friend and myself but I thought I might aswell share it here.
Behind every exquisite thing that existed there was something tragic – Oscar Wilde
No grave can hold my body down, – I’ll crawl home to her – Hozier
Your presence will be sun in winter – Alfred Lord Tennyson
The road is long and the path is winding, you had never really given it any thought before but the days under your feet that put distance between you and the crash, are both exhaustingly long to comprehend and not far enough. Though you wonder if any distance could be far enough. Your head is throbbing, an irritating repeating painful pulse that surges through your mind between steps. You wish you could blame the pain on the tadpole swimming around in your cerebellum but you know the much more likely truth- you're dehydrated. And more than that, you're lacking a decent amount of blood in your system to compensate for that. You let your eyes shift to your left where Astarion walks a few strides ahead of you, he is walking with such energy and a strange type of confidence, even for him. You wonder if he knows what you do, you wonder if he has the slightest clue that he hasn't fooled you, not for a moment, not even the smallest amount. He thinks he has everything laid out, this perfect little plan, he thinks he is playing you like a fiddle. But you're smarter than that, smarter... but not wiser. You can read his manipulation like a favourite book, because in some ways that's exactly what it is. You've done this before. You recognize this. In it's twisted way, it feels like coming home. He is using you, and you're letting him.
You want to feel guilty about it, you want to be mad at yourself for not falling for his facade but actively walking directly into this trap of his. But you cannot bring yourself to be. Because for all the planning and scheming. For everything he is trying to achieve with you, you know one more thing, one thing that maybe he doesn't even know yet. You know why.
His hands flex in the sunlight and you know he is pretending it's not stunning him, but it has been a lifetime since he got to be in sunlight, you don't blame him for basking in it. It’s almost enough to keep him from complaining about the bugs as you navigate the wetlands.
Astarion swats away a bug with his hand and mutters a few curses under his breath. “I cannot wait to be free of these bug infested woods,” he says, as if it was everyone else’s responsibility to make that happen.
“Used to fancier environments are you fancy boy?” Karlach asks.
“Most certainly, it’s not hard to have higher standards than somewhere where these little cretins bite you for taking a step,” Astarion points out. “I know the better places in Baldur’s Gate, no nasty little buzzing critters guaranteed.”
“Blood suckers,” Shadowheart muses at the mosquitos. “You think you would have more sympathy for them Astarion.”
The look he shoots her way is a smile, but it’s so full of malice that it is much more of a grimace, “Oh so you can make jokes?” he asks. “Not forbidden to laugh under your false god?”
“Let’s not,” Karlach laughs, clapping her hands together, “let’s not start anything that I will have to finish.”
“I say let them have it out, fighting will only make us stronger,” Lae’zel offers up, swiping at a vine that leans too close to her body for her comfort.
“Let’s keep the fighting for the enemy, if we start fighting amongst ourselves, then we are truly fucked,” you point out, walking faster to put yourself as a social shield between Astarion and Shadowheart, who look equally likely to attempt to draw blood.
“Sunshine to the rescue,” Astarion teases. If you weren’t too busy trying to decipher if he is genuinely irritated with your interference, you might pay more attention to the way he calls you that: Sunshine. You might be able to see the layers within it, read all the implications in such a simple word. Sunshine: something he has been denied for years, something he never thought he would get to have again, something he didn’t know he missed until it wasn’t able to access it. Something he is scared of losing again. But you notice none of that, not while you’re trying to read past the gentle slumping of his body against a nearby tree, the way he cocks his head to the side, watching you. The tiny curve in the corner of his mouth that might be all that slips through in an attempt not to smile. He leans back like a bored rake eyeing up his next conquest, something that on anyone else would be unflattering, but on him it’s ungodly elegant, and you have to look away.
“Hello,” comes a voice from the rocks. The whole party glances up to see a man moving in a hurried manor down to greet you. His hair is long and his movements determined, but he still meets your gaze with an attempt of a smile.
“Hello?” you echo back at him.
Astarion eyes the man with reproach which you admit it’s new for him, everyone is either someone worth charming or someone he would rather not be bothered by, this man certainly seems to be the latter. “Must we stop and speak with every wayward walker?” he huffs.
“I won’t take up too much of your time,” the man assures you, eyes flitting to Astarion, “I’m Gandrel-,”
“Oh, you are Gur,” Astarion says, stopping his slacking, and standing up really straight, arms crossed neatly cover the cotton of his black shirt. “Monster hunter, come to cast some type of curse?”
You elbow Astarion and he looks genuinely confused as he complains at the almost violent interaction. Gandrel laughs it off, looking not half as inconvenienced as you would have expected. “And every other thing people think my kind can do, honestly I wish I could do half of it,” he says, “but alas, we are mere mortals.”
“Brave words for men who hunt monsters,” Shadowheart says, looking almost apprehensive at the man in front of them. “So what are you hunting?”
“Let me guess,” Astarion says, moving his hands around as he speaks, all theatre and brimming with a strange type of enthusiasm. You’d almost think he was nervous, but you haven’t seen him nervous before, why would he start now? “Wendigo? Or better yet some winged horror?”
“Nothing that exciting I am afraid,” Gandrel states, his smile is welcoming, “some vampire spawn.”
If Astarion could get any paler, he would in his moment, his muscles stiff and his words threatening to falter, you sense his panic without as much as a glance. “A vampire spawn?” you ask, hints of laughter in your voice. “Not even a full vampire, how is that worth your time?”
Astarion glares at you, but he knows what you’re doing so he holds in a pout before adding. “I don’t know, spawn can be quite a handful, powerful things,” he says.
“Your friend is unfortunately right, and this spawn… he is particularly dangerous,” you don’t take your eyes off Gandrel, afraid if you look at Astarion you might see him smirking, “I was wondering if maybe you’ve seen anything.”
“What do you know about this spawn?” you ask, scorning yourself mentally for not coming off more subtle.
“His name is Astarion,” he starts, and you don’t hear much more after that, he begins to explain why he is hunting him, and what he has done, but the words just blend into the wind, and you are doing everything you can to try and act calm. You hear the words dangerous and volatile and in some deep met instinct you step back and in front of Astarion, leaning into him, you look afraid. You look like the man’s stories are bringing you concern, like you’re seeking comfort. But you’ve learned enough from wolves to know how to play this game. Astarion doesn’t know how to respond to your sudden proximity and just stands idle, listening to the man talk.
“Well I…” you look for the right words, the right approach to take.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Gandrel assures you. You feel sick to your stomach, this man is trying to be kind, his concern is genuine, and you know as well as the others that Astarion is not a saint, he is no pinnacle of good, he has done things. He has done unthinkable things. But he was surviving, and you cannot think you would do any different. Not that he ever had a choice in those awful things, Astarion has not had a choice in anything in two hundred years. “But you should be careful.”
“It sounds like this is a real threat,” you manage.
“It does, doesn’t it?” Astarion asks, “maybe we should… do something about the threat?”
“What would you do, if you found him, kill him?” Shadowheart asks, taking a little too much joy in this situation.
“No, I am on orders to bring him back alive,” Gandrel explains. The fear rolls off Astarion in waves, somehow that is worse, somehow that is so much worse. You’ve not doubted for a moment, since he told you, since you found out what he is and how he became it, Astarion would rather die than go back to Cazador, and he really doesn’t want to die.
“We shall keep a close eye out,” you say. You feel Astarion’s discomfort. He does to express something, annoyance perhaps but you look up at him, and he can hear you in his head, clear as that first moment when he saw your memories from the crash.
‘Trust me, I am not letting him find you, just trust me.’
And it takes all his effort, fighting every instinct he has, but he does. The others start to continue moving, and you watch Gandrel setting up camp. “I’ll be right with you,” you tell the others, letting yourself fall behind.
Gandrel is a good man from all you’ve seen. You know Astarion wants him dead. You can understand why he would feel that way, because as far as the eye can see it’s the way to keep Astarion safest. But you have another idea, a long shot, probably will end up the same way, but you’re going to try it anyway idea. And it has your hands shaking.
“Can I help you?” Gandrel asks, looking up at you from where he is laying out his bedroll. You cannot do this with his eyes on you, so you force yourself to do something you’re not very good at. You think on your feet.
“Strange question but you don’t happen to have any… wispweed do you?” you ask, eyeing his bag. “I have some payment, I just am running low.”
He gives you a smile and your heart plummets into your stomach. “Let me look,” he says, turning to reach into his bag.
You reach forward as fast your can a hand either side of his temple and you blood all of your power into freezing his muscles, you wait a short moment, checking that it has worked, but when all you can hear is the slow beat of his heart you move with more conviction. You haven’t done this in a long time, and you’ve got to get it right. You’re navigating his mind, looking for the right place, the right centre to alter, finding the pulses and the pathways. When you find them you can feel your own nerves starting to burn, this is not easy magic, this is not careful magic, it is unstable and you need it over quickly. “You don’t know anything about Astarion, you are not looking for him, and you will not find him,” you start saying, feeling the magic changing the pathways as you command it to, “even if you found him, you could not see him, you could not hear him, you would not know who or what he was, and you can never learn,” you feel sick but you know the last thing, the other thing and it tumbles from your lips before you have time to reconsider, “and if you were to be at risk of causing him harm, you would slit your own throat before putting him in danger.” You step back and your mind is swimming, the tadpole is feeding off the energy and you take no comfort in that.
Gandrel pauses before resuming what he was doing, he turns to you, empty handed. “Sorry,” he shrugs, “no luck.”
“No worries,” you say, voice shaking, “I will keep looking,” you turn on your heels, “Gandrel?”
“Yes?” he asks.
“Good luck on your hunt,” you pause, “what are you hunting again?”
He is quiet for the longest time, “A… hag?” he sounds unsure, “must be, that’s what I know is in this area.”
“Keep yourself safe,” you tell him. He tells you to do the same as you disappear to catch up with the group.
“Smart move that,” Karlach is saying to Astarion, “she has quite the head on her shoulders.”
“What?” Astarion asks, he hadn’t been paying attention, trying to listen at a distance to what you were saying and failing.
“Tav,” Karlach says, “pulling the whole wolf bit.”
“What in the gods are you talking about?” Astarion asks. Karlach eyes him, surprised that he missed it.
“When she stood in front of you,” Karlach says, like it is obvious. “Playing scared, it’s a wolf trick. When a wolf is being threatened their female mate often cowers underneath, hiding close, it looks like she’s afraid but really she is protecting the softest and most exposed part that the enemy could attack, the throat,” as Karlach explains it becomes painfully obvious that was exactly what you had been doing, you’d stepped into him, to put yourself between him and the threat, you’d been acting scared to protect him, “so when she-,”
“She was shielding me,” Astarion muses, “how thoughtful, and entirely unnecessary.”
“Sure buddy,” Karlach says laughing. “Because you weren’t scared shitless.”
“I am not dignifying that with a response,” Astarion states.
You catch up to Astarion and Karlach’s stride and Karlach starts that excited gushing she does, talking about something you wish you knew more about, but are happy to listen. “He won’t be a problem,” you whisper to him as Karlach talks. He doesn’t respond, but you can see in his eyes that he is trying to process your words. “I didn’t kill him,” you manage, quick and quiet, “but he would die before he sets eyes on you again. You don’t need to be looking over your shoulder, at least not for him.” You don’t miss the way Astarion is watching you, almost like he is hungry.
You’re setting up to settle down for the night when he beckons you over, he has barely said a thing since Gandrel and you weren’t sure if you’d upset him somehow. “Can we have a word?” he asks. You nod and follow him as he walks a distance from the campfire, leaving the others in the low amber light. “What you did,” he starts, but you’re already shrugging it off.
“He was a threat to you, I couldn’t let that be the case,” you say. He is flickering his eyes over yours, searching for something.
“That pesky little moral code of yours, you couldn’t kill him,” he says.
“I didn’t kill him,” you echo your earlier sentiments. “But I neutralised the problem… permanently.”
“You used mind magic,” he realises, you try again to shrug it off like it is nothing, but his is smiling, and it’s so coy and mischievous.
“I did not expect that to give you an ego boost,” you admit.
“That’s not easy magic darling, and you went to all that effort for little old me?” He is leaning in, grinning, his fangs unabashedly on display. Your knees feel weak at the sight of him, and you know he knows it.
“I wouldn’t let him hurt you Astarion,” you tell him, “I promised you that much. What I said when I found out what you were, I meant it. I am going to do everything in my power to make sure you get your freedom back, I mean that.”
He steps forward and you step back, and your back presses into a tree. He leans, one hand resting against the bark of the tree, just above your shoulder, almost pinning you in, as his other hand reaches up to brush a few loose strands of hair from your face. “Well, I suppose a thank you is in order,” he says, holding your chin between finger and thumb. “A reward for your protection.” He kisses you, it’s heated and fast, you can feel the way he presses against you and it steals almost every thought you have. You want this, of course you want this, you don’t remember a time you didn’t want this. But something about it makes your heart sink. Maybe it was the look in his eyes as he leaned for you, like it was so rehearsed, like he was playing this role, or maybe you can just feel something wrong, something insincere. You pull away and Astarion is nothing short of stunned.
“Is there a problem,” he asks, leaning in again, trying to regather is bearings, but you just turn your head away.
"Astarion- stop," you tell him. His whole body goes rigid, completely lost in confusion.
“I guess I misunderstood,” Astarion says, and you swear he sounds hurt. It’s his fear, the rejection, you realise so quickly, like a match being lit, what he thinks is happening. He thinks you don’t want him to kiss you, he thinks you don’t want him. He couldn’t be more wrong.
"No, it's not that, gods it's not that," you assure him. "I'd take being side by side with you, not even close enough for shoulders to brush, than... anything with anyone else. That's not it."
He blinks and his voice comes out more bitter than you would like it to be as he speaks, “then what the hells is it?” He is curious, confounded, completely unsure of where this is going. He has not been rejected, not for a long time. How could anyone turn him down? He knows he is beautiful, everyone tells him as much, he is charming and this routine always works, and yet you pull away.
"Astarion, I don't want you doing this because you think you have to," you say. Astarion isn’t sure he has heard you right. He thinks the words must be in the wrong order, or that they came out wrong.
“What?” he asks, voice devoid of any tone.
“Astarion I don’t want you to… do this, whatever this is, unless you want to,” you tell him. He is slow to register your words and you can see that on his face.
“Don’t you want me?” he asks. You feel like you could snap, the need in his voice, the desperation to be loved, wanted, desired. In spite of everything, he still craves that.
“Astarion, I want that, of course, but I only want it if you want it,” you try to explain. “I don’t want anything you don’t want, I don’t want you to do this because you think you owe me. I protected you because I care, because I wanted to, I didn’t do it so you would reward me.”
Everything he has been doing was instinct, it was taught behaviour, it is exactly what he has been doing for hundreds of years to survive, but now it was different because he wasn’t doing it for Cazador, he was doing it from himself, to protect himself from Cazador, so in it’s own way nothing has changed. It was a simple plan, sweet talk, seduce, bed, create a sense of bonding and then know that there was someone in his corner, someone who wouldn’t turn on him, someone to protect him, fight with him and for him. But you were doing all the work, you were willing to fight for him, and you weren’t asking for anything in return, and more jarringly you weren’t expecting anything in return.
"How did you know?" He asks, not able to meet your eye.
"Because our wounds might be different but our scars match just fine," you tell him. "Not being able to say no, and feeling like you cannot say no are close siblings in pain."
He is watching you now, closer, like he is seeing you anew, or maybe just truly seeing you for the first time. He had thought that you were easy to manipulate, that it would be straightforward, and in ways it was, it had been, it was easy, natural even. But he hadn’t considered how strange and natural it was to you. How you looked at him with such knowing, such understanding, but never once asked for the truth when you knew what he said was lies.
He watches you look away, turning from the light, as if you’re scared of all the things it might illuminate, suddenly lay bare.
"But you want me?" He asks.
"I don't want anything you don't," you tell him. He sighs, raking a hand over his neck, a little agitated that you're not hearing what he is asking.
"That's not what I mean, you would want me," he says, more of a statement now than a question, but his eyes still beg for an answer.
"Yes," you tell him, "I don't know how well that might go, or what that would look like but yes, I want you, and I would want to, or I want to want to... it's complicated."
"I know," he says and you know he does. "When you stepped back from Karlach," he says slowly.
"I struggle with... contact sometimes," you admit. You'd known Karlach wasn't going to touch you, that she couldn't touch you but you'd flinched anyway and it haunted you. You can feel Astarion looking at your neck now and you pinch the edges of your collar to pull it down and give him better access but he doesn't move.
"Why do you let me?" He asks.
"You need it," you say. "And I want to help."
"So, after all this you're going to start keeping things from me now?" He asks, almost coy. "Come on darling, tell me the truth."
"You need it, and I want to be needed, if I can offer you this, knowing the others can't, I know you're less likely to run from me," you say, staring at the ground, "you're not the only one looking for protection. You wanted it from the world, I wanted it from being left behind."
“You are protecting yourself,” he whispers. His eyes dance over you, taking all of you in, and he cannot help but wonder, how you could reduce yourself to thinking your only worth the blood pulsing through your veins. He catches himself, and wonders how he could let you feel that way. Or worse yet, if he made you feel that way. His plan was so easy, so simple, and it felt like you were falling for it, like he could make you fall for him, the guise, the mask, the charisma, like it was second nature. But that’s what he had been wrong about, you had fallen for him, it was obvious in those eyes that were staring right back at him. He had you at this point, this moment in time, where you would leave the entire world behind for him. But not the him he meant for you to feel this way about, the act, the rake, the smooth talker with the smile like a devil. It was the part of him that he buried under that, the man behind the vampire, that was the Astarion you were so desperate to help, to hold onto. He can not understand this care you have for him, or the feeling in his chest that is blooming from it. He doesn’t know how to do this right, not when he is known, when he is seen, when he is wanted in all the ways he had long forgotten you could want a person. Before Cazador and the betrayal and the sex and the death. The way you can want a person exactly as they are, no conditions, and no strings. You look at him and everything you do not say with words is written clearer than daylight on your face: ‘show me your sharp edges, show me your thorns, show me the most dangerous, unlovable parts of you, and I will show you my hands, open, waiting, willing to bleed.’
“You give up parts of yourself in the name of protection,” Astarion says, ringing his hands together, trying to look less fidgety, but the more he watches you, the more he understands the more this warmth spreads up his neck, this strange flush in his chest. It feels as if by some strange miracle of existence, his heart is trying to beat.
“But I am telling you,” you insist, “you do not need to do that for me, I am here, I will stand by you Astarion, hells or high waters, so you don’t need to pretend, you don’t need to do something because you think it is what I would want from you.”
“I am not pretending,” he says, a little more honest than he expected from his own mouth. “My attraction to you is genuine, my connection with you is…” he pauses, unable to find a way to make it make sense, “confusing. But I am not pretending.”
“You were pretending, you were manipulating me,” you point out.
“And you were letting me,” he says. You shrug.
“I am not stupid enough to imagine I was more than useful Astarion, which is why I want to continue being useful, we can have each others backs, and no one is left without someone in their corner, but you do not need to try and… you don’t need to make yourself uncomfortable on my behalf.”
Never in his life has Astarion wished he could hold someone without that feeling of disgust and guilt, never has he wanted to kiss someone more than in this moment. But he knows what follows, he knows how Cazador has seeped into everything, and tainted it all. Ruined it all. He doesn’t even know where to begin to undo that damage, he doesn’t know if there is a way to undo that damage. But never has he wanted more to try. He looks at you now, and he wants to kiss you, to kiss you without it being this strange twisted regret that it always becomes. He want to be real, he wants to kiss you and mean it, and let it be only what it is and not a reminder of everything that has happened to him. But he doesn’t know how to do that.
“I do care about you, you know, and I wish, I wish I knew how to be different,” he says, “but I haven’t had the time to figure that out.”
You shrug. “You’ve got all the time in the world to figure out whatever you need to figure out for yourself Astarion, and I am doing everything I can to keep that true, so we need to keep moving, and get these nasty little fuckers out of our heads, and separate Cazador from his, and everything else, we can figure out after.”
“You truly do just want to help me, don’t you?” he asks. True, selfless love, that wanting for another person, not for what it mean to you, but just so they can get what they deserve and be happy. If he asked you to stay, you would, you would drop everything to stay, and if he asked you to go, you would do the same, because you only want what is best for him. Astarion has never known a feeling like that, and he is chasing it, clawing at it, trying with both hands to get a good grip so it doesn’t slip through his fingers and run out of his grasp. He doesn’t think he could find this again, he doesn’t think he would want to. He just knowns he can’t lose this, this feeling like a beating heart in his chest when he looks at you.
“I do,” you say. “So, are we going to do this?”
“I think so Sunshine,” he says, letting that smile return, even if it is just to disguise this nervousness that is pounding at his skull.
“Okay good, then take what you need and we can get on with things,” you say, pulling your collar aside so he has best access to your neck. He looks at you and lets his eyes wander to the slope of your neck, he places a hand on your side pulling you closer and you let yourself be calm, let him do this. He leans down for the bite, lips pressed against the pulse point, and you wait for the soft pain, the dizzying feeling, but it doesn’t come. His lips brush soft and cold against that pulsation and then they pull away, leaving you with nothing but a ghost of a kiss where teeth marks should be.
“You’re worth more than that to me Sunshine,” he whispers, close enough to your ear that you can feel his words against your neck. “So much more,” and he pulls away, not giving as much as a glance as he walks back towards the others, leaving you puzzled with your heart thundering in your chest.
“Oh Star,” you whisper, to the wind more than to anything or anyone. “You are never going to be able to be unloved by me.”
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Mystery Kids AU: New Changes
Ho boy, somehow I've fallen back into Coraline since the local movie theater decided to premier it again - hence why I decided to talk about my Mystery Kids AU and the updated lore changes because well, I want to be a menace today.
So, to recap from old posts - the chosen fandoms are Danny Phantom, Coraline, Paranorman, and Gravity Falls. All of these do take place post-canon, although Phantom Planet is retconned because- no. For the record, I don't necessarily hate it but it's not really important to my plot.
I'm going to break this down into different sections, so! Let's get started, shall we?
The plot begins with Dipper and Mabel returning to Gravity Falls, Oregon, for the summer and due to a camp program happening - well, it leads to the others becoming part of said camp, arriving to the sleepy town where shenanigans ensue. Dipper and Mabel are both nearly sixteen now, as of course - their birthday is near the end of summer break. Things start off as very typical to the weirdness that is Gravity Falls, and introducing the characters to one another. Though about halfway through, when the main storyline picks up, we're also given a glimpse of the main villains... who I unfortunately cannot mention right now because that would defeat the purpose.
I do intend for the series to be a lot darker than the original movies and/or tv shows because that does defeat the purpose, so this is your fair warning of what to expect for the Mystery Kids/Unlocked Doors verse. I am hoping to transform it into a proper series, exploring the Main Bad Guys across the four franchises but we'll see what happens with the first installation!
(Under-the-Cut Information)
Character Introductions
Dipper Pines: 15-16 years old. After the defeat of Bill Cipher, Dipper and his twin sister Mabel returned home to Piedmont, California. His intrigue and fascination with the weirdness and abnormal continued to get stronger - in light of what went down during the events of Weirdmaggedon, Dipper follows in Grunkle Ford's footsteps. He's fallen out of the preteen anxiety he had in his preteen years, even if it does little to help his own paranoia of the return of Bill Cipher. Dipper began keeping his own journals, adding onto them and hoping to one day become a paranormal researcher.
Mabel Pines: 15-16 years old. Mabel Pines is the twin sister to Dipper. Unlike her brother, Mabel is known for her artistic and creative side - she dreams of the day she can make it big as an artist, or even simply becoming a teacher. She's not picky to be honest! Mabel's hyperactive, cheerful personality continues to shine even now; though she still has dreams of what happened during Weirdmaggedon. Even then, she's just looking to have a great time in Gravity Falls, not having the slightest clue of what awaits her and her friends.
Norman Babcock: 14 years old. Norman is a bit younger than Dipper and Mabel, simply due to his birthdate, but even then - he's matured quite a bit since the events that went down in his hometown of Blithe Hollow, Massachusetts. Norman can still come off as a little awkward around new people, but he does have a good heart and does his best to help wherever he can. He has fully embraced his ability to see ghosts and helps them cross over.
Danny Phantom: 16 years old. Danny is the eldest out of the kids. Following the defeat of Pariah Dark and a few other select baddies, things slowly returned back to normal - Amity Park became a little more accepting and Danny's role as protector flared even more, but of course... there are still other threats brewing under the surface though I'm sure they won't be much of an issue for Phantom.
Coraline Jones: 15 years old. Coraline's life slowly settled after the incident and became closer with Wybie Lovat. She has hoped to forget about what happened, attempting to bury it down (and no one would blame her, it was quite the traumatizing experience-) but an unexpected summer camp program to Gravity Falls, Oregon is about to change everything in ways she didn't expect. She's got a spunk to her now - still just as sassy as she was in her younger years.
Wyborne "Wybie" Lovat: 15 years old. Wybie is Coraline's best friend now; the two became practically inseparable after what happened in the Pink Palace - though more specifically, the wall. He still doesn't know what to make of it, but he isn't nearly as spooked by all of it as Coraline. Wybie continues to be kooky and eccentric and might just be having a tiny puppy crush on Coraline, though he's never going to admit it. Who knows what might come of their summer camp in Gravity Falls?
Other characters will be in this, of course but they're not nearly as important as the ones I already listed - or who knows, maybe I have plans I can't share just yet ;))
Lore Infodumping
Ho boy, I can only share so much because weeelll - I will not be able to share spoilers, but here goes nothing.
Gravity Falls, Oregon, and other likeminded towns became natural hotspots for weirdness once the barrier was broken - of course, this is canon but people just sort of accepted this as part of the everyday normal. With cities like Amity Park however, and the fact Danny is in fact a superhero, this becomes a different can of worms. Much like one of my other projects, it isn't out of the ordinary for the hotspot towns and even 'hero cities' to keep to themselves though it remains unclear why.
Gravity Falls became a very popular tourist spot, eventually creating the summer camp program. Though no one talks about Weirdmaggedon, preferring to keep it that way in the hopes of warding off bad energy and superstitions associated with it. The Pines are still an oddity amongst the residents, but they came to be respected - especially now with how they managed to stop Bill Cipher. Ford continued recording information about his adventures in new journals, using it as a pastime now more than his job. Stan and him return home during the summers to spend time with their great niece and nephew.
I genuinely don't have much to say about the Pink Palace or Blithe Hollow since things just sort of went back to normal. As for Amity Park, it's a bit different as it became liminal and just has more ghost activity; like I mentioned earlier - Phantom Planet has yet to happen, or won't happen, I don't know which. It turned into a hotspot of its own and the citizens have been marked by ghostly activity (not that they have powers-). Anyway,
Earth as a whole has changed a lot and who knows what come next?
I'm going to be changing the blog url into unlocked-doors-verse since Secret Origins is now separate from this! You are more than welcome to send me asks and/or interact with the blog, and I will be providing headcanons and more information in a following post! Obviously I can't share many spoilers though there's going to be a lot more for this universe. As of right now, this is not a character blog - it's more for the AU itself, BUT you can ask me information about the characters and how everything works.
Until next time, my lovely readers!
#danny's infodumps#mystery kids#gravity falls#paranorman#danny phantom#coraline#crossover#crossover fandom#unlocked doors verse#unlocked doors au#infodumping#infodump#worldbuilding#aged up characters#aged up au#future au#hyperfixation#im hyperfixating again#i am hyperfixating
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what are your thoughts about daphne sa’ing simon?
hi anon! i am not a victim, and my interpretation of the scene may be different. that is a very open discussion and i do not believe that a single opinion is right. if anyone is offended with what i have to say, they are more than welcome to share their own thoughts.
book
what i said above only applies to the show. there cannot be any other interpretation for the book other than what it is: rape.
let's add the setting for the book: daphne and simon were just going to sleep when she suddenly wonders why he tries to keep her as far as possible from his release. she asks him why can't he have kids and it that was his seed. the fight about the vow unfolds and so far daphne is in the right.
simon knows that, but is hate for his father is too strong, understandably so. two days later, he gets so drunk he cannot even stand or think properly. daphne allows him to sleep in her bed.
and somehow, that twisted bitch thinks that "she can have anything she wants." LINE TAKEN FROM THE BOOK.
she unbuttons his breeches and strokes him, while he is DRUNK AND SLEEPING. he is horny and drunk, not in the right sense of mind. he never even gave her explicit consent, even when 'encouraging' her. (he later blames himself for this)
she seduces and rides him, and she forces in to come inside of her even though she knew about his vow and was sure of what his seed would do. (this is very different from how the show portrayed it and i'll explain that later)
the way it unfolds after is heartbreaking. simon feels betrayed and hurt, not comfortable with her touching him anymore, so much that he genuinely begins to stutter again. he leaves the estate, and she cries because she did not actually think that he would leave her, and even openly admits that she is not ashamed and thought she was in the right, she takes residence in hastings house in london for the next 2 months that they are apart, and never mentions why they separated to her concerned family, which caused them to grow some kind of hatred towards him. anthony was in charge of delivering the letter that informed him that she missed her courses (which was a false alarm) and threatens simon. simon blames himself for encouraging her seduction (he was drunk) and goes to london because of the child. there, they reconcile and the first thing daphne does after telling him that she is not pregnant is ask if he left her because she forced herself on him. he says no, and says he left because she made him so vulnerable he began stuttering again. which is literally the same thing: she violated him, and he was so hurt he began to stutter.
after a comedic relief scene with the bridgertons, when they have sex again, daphne says that she doesn't want children if he doesn't (after all that) and would like some time for themselves, but he still says that he does and all in all, they get a happily ever after.
i'd also like to mention that simon wasn't exactly the ideal man either. he constantly viewed daphne as an object and projected all his sexual desires (unhealthily) on her. he was verbally abusive up with her up to the point of #that scene (yes, he was also abusive when he was drunk)
this was utterly disgusting for me to read. i could barely get through the pages. these are situations that real-life people go through, that should not be painted in a good light or be promoted as romance.
show
the show's scene is different. simon and daphne have their fight about the vow after she forced herself. she did not know what his 'seed' would do.
yes, she did ask her maid that night, but take it this way: her mother did not give her the slightest of information on how to make child. she told her that simon would know, and daphne fully trusted both simon and her mother as well. she was exploring her sexual side when she noticed him not releasing inside of her. she did not know what that meant. he did. he took advantage of her naïveté.
when she asked her maid, it was difficult for her to believe that he would lie to her. she trusted him the most with her body. he was the only man that had touched her that far. she did not want for him to have lied to her. she could not even think of the slightest reason why he would not want to have children. if she confronted him directly, he would have made up another lie to cover for it.
it was a simple situation: she would force him to come inside of her, and if he was upset then he had lied. yes, he told her to wait, yes, she did not stop, and yes, that bordered sexual assault.
"oh but you wouldn't say that if a man did that to a woman." actually, the situation cannot happen with gender reversed.
this takes place in 1813. society tried their utter best to keep women as innocent as a child, and fresh for her husband. the man, however, was free to do whatever he wanted. simon especially, was a whore.
he knew explicitly how to make children, while daphne only had the idea of some kind of marital act they had to perform that would eventually end up in child.
they both were in the wrong, maybe daphne moreso than simon. and that’s honestly all i think.
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I finally fished that test short fic that I got the idea for after making this art. Let me know if these grammatical error or what I can improve on when writing the characters! Haven’t written in ages… Anyways,
✨ENJOY!✨
*drops this at y’all’s feet and skitters off*
Cuddles and Worries
In a well known manor, chatting and laughter can be heard from behind a set of giant white doors. Those doors lead into a room that might be considered “living-quarters” to some, but the being who resides in this room is not exactly part of the “living” realm… He just tends to rest here most times when he desires privacy from prying eyes! Specifically his fans that know nothing about personal space! Though, as of late, this room has occasionally also been shared with someone else…
“-and that tree had a wasp nest living in it even though no one has ever seen a wasp anywhere near that area! Oh, how horrific it was to witness her swell… ‘Twere as if her head became that of a…ginormous, maggot infested tomato! Turned out that the poor lady was terribly allergic!!”, ranted a hunchbacked Rabbid named T.S Woodrow. He is currently wearing a matching pajama set with a nightcap on his head.
“Oh mon Dieu, ça épouvantable! Did any of those horrid creatures decide to instead go after you?!”, exclaims Phantom, a rotund ghost rabbid laying underneath Woodrow, with concern written all over this face. Woodrow finds Phantom’s ghost half to be softer than a giant cloud so he chooses to lay upon it when they cuddle, just like how they are right now. Phantom is laying with his back on the bed, and Woodrow’s belly touching his own. They have taken this cuddle position so often that Phantom has even joked about how he’s now become Woodrow’s personal bed! Woodrow continues his tale of the day as he kicks one of his hind paws in the air as if he were a school girl talking on the phone with a close friend.
“They did not, for the wasps seemed dedicated to stinging every last inch of her! She was quickly taken into urgent care, but only once the wasps had worn themselves out. At that point, the bugs stayed down upon the ground and did not move even an inch more! The little bugs had worn themselves out in their rage… Luckily the lady lived in the end, but now she refuses to go near any trees on the off chance it might happen again. I, of course, do not blame her in the slightest.”
“I am very glad no harm came to you directly after you recited that poem, but I hope you do try to be safer in the future… I trust you will, but you know I worry about your safety when I cannot be at your side at all times outside this home…”
“We have spoken on this a multitude of times, and I promised to you that I would stay safe. I survived on my own with this curse in the past, and I shall continue to do so in the present and future. Just look around at the destruction surrounding us! Even now, as I’ve spoken to you a myriad of poems during this conversation, neither of us have been harmed nor injured!,” Woodrow exclaims as he directs Phantom to look upon the room and take in the disrepair it is in. There are shards of broken glass laying upon the ground from fallen vases and picture frames, and there seems to be water leaking out from underneath the bathroom door. Woodrow feels a hand touch his cheek and he lets it gently move his face to once again stare back at Phantom, whom only looks back with pure love and adoration.
“Mon poète bien-aimé… I promise I was not speaking of the beautiful chaos cause by your hypnotic poems… I am just worried some ruffian will try to harm you do to your affiliation with me. You have only been here for all but a week, and I know in the past you rarely left Palette Prime… I have a very long list of people whom always try to knock me down a peg or two every day, even if it’s at the cost of someone else’s safety’ …I just want you to put your safety first and foremost when you leave without me… Without you, my life would still be lost in a cycle of loneliness!”
Phantom smiles slightly and his thumb rubs against Woodrow’s cheek in a soothing manor. Woodrow leans into the soft touch and smiles back at him before replying.
“ You really are an Angel, Phantom… I promise I shall be safer when I go out alone. I shall be aware of my own surrounding at every turn. If I must do something to help you worry less, I would not be supposed to a costume of sorts..?”
“Oh, c'est une MERVEILLEUSE idée, mon amour! We can turn it anti a makeover of sorts tomorrow! I’ve always wanted to see you in a suit~ Of course, I’ll let you give me a makeover of sorts as well! Only fair that both of us get to pick out the other’s wardrobe rather than just one of us!” Phantom looks at Woodrow with excitement over the fashion possibilities and he can better understand Woodrow’s chosen sense of fashion.
Both of them share a little laugh, and then continue to cuddle and talk late into the night about different topics. Eventually Woodrow passes out and Phantom holds him close to him, being careful not to jostle him too much. Once settled, Phantom closes his eyes do the ghost equivocal to sleeping, closing his eyes and day dreaming about what tomorrow holds. Anything is possible so long as he has his lover right by his side, and the same vise versa.
#phandrow#rabbid phantom#rabbids phantom#phantom rabbid#phantom of the bwahpera#ts woodrow#rabbids woodrow#rabbid woodrow#fanfic#my fanfiction#<- new tag for me to use now I guess#ghostly curse#ghost curse
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long rant about yu furen
i haven't been able to put into words how i feel about her character so here's a long ass high ass rant
i think the reason i love yu furen/jiang cheng/jing ling so much is that i can see their insecurities and the complexes they developed and think yea, that would probably fuck me up too. but the younger each of them are, the more room for growth they have- yu furen is detested in fandom because she did objectively horrible things. she had gut wrenching circumstances that led to it, and ultimately (and <i>maybe</i> arguably) was never able to make the morally correct choice from it. jiang cheng is younger, he is filled with anger and hate, but he still has room to come back from it. he's on the cusp of being unforgivable, almost evil, but the story leaves a bit of hope for him to come back from it. (i am a yunmeng bros conciliation superfan). jin ling is objectively the most lovable, because he had awful circumstances, has taken on the personality of the uncle that raised him, and is so, so angry. but he's young enough that he hasn't harmed anyone or done things that cant be forgiven
like do not get me wrong. to me, yu furen is a bad person. when she made wei ying believe his life was worth less, when she blamed him for the destruction of lotus pier, when she whipped him, that solidly put her in shitty person territory.
but at the same time. i see her trying to protect her family. i see her watching her husband dote on the son of a woman he loved, neglecting their own children because they reminded him of her. that is a pain I cannot fathom. i truly hate jiang fengmian for how he treated jiang cheng and jiang yanli. i see yu furen doing everything for her children only for wei ying to take the spotlight and (inadvertently) cause trouble for the whole clan.
and while i think the actions she takes are wrong because of it, her character is one i can at the very least respect. she decided to slap the shit out of wang lingjiao at the suggestion of permanently disabling wei ying (which i can't say for sure wasn't entirely a product of her pride/thinking he had use for jiang cheng, but i want to read it as at least having the slightest care for a child she watched grow up, detested though he was).
when she tells wei ying to protect jiang cheng with his life... she obviously would not bat an eye if wei ying died a gruesome death, but at the very least, i don't think she <i>wanted</i> him to die, so much as get the hell away from her husband who doesn't love her and her kids that will never measure up in jiang fengmian's eyes. (wei ying leaving would never fix this, but i don't think she was raised to think about emotions like that.) she still saves wei ying along with jiang cheng, and even if it was more for jiang cheng's benefit, i can at least say that she didn't hold such hatred in her heart that she truly attempted to cause his death.
which. yes. low fucking bar. but i see a complexity to her character that entices me more any other character (except maybe nie huaisang, the motherfucker.)
i was gonna also talk about jiang cheng and jin ling but i think ill save it for another day
#i hope this makes sense#this is also specifically novel yu furen#i think i loved and hated the untamed!yu furen with much more passion#but i don't remember the episode enough to speak on it#.text#mdzs#mo dao zu shi#the grandmaster of demonic cultivation#the untamed#yu furen#yu ziyuan#jiang cheng#jin ling#jiang yanli#wei wuxian#jiang fengmian#cangse sanren#nie huaisang
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21 & 22 also hi i'm a big fan
hi so nice to meet my supporters
21. part of canon you think is overhyped
hmmm there’s so much to choose from… this is weird but i’m gonna say like. character deaths. i feel like people vastly overestimate and exaggerated how sad these deaths supposedly are and i’m NOT saying this to be edgy and i DO think some of them are really sad okay like. the first couple hit!!! benny and barb and bob all make me emotional even if barb’s actual death scene does make me laugh bc they literally interspersed clips of her dying with stancy fucking which is hard to take serious. but like i cannot for the life of me relate to people who are sad alexei died. who are sad chrissy died. even eddie’s actual death scene is so hollow and forced to me that the scene itself doesn’t make me sad in the slightest and i Only get emotional thinking about the hypothetical feelings of the other characters, which we didn’t even get to see!!! ppl will inevitably be sad when the designated Born To Die character in s5 dies. i feel like st saw how much barb and bob affected people and they were like oh let’s do that every season then! but barb was sad because she was nancy’s childhood best friend and we spent a lot of time examining nancy’s grief over it, bob was sad because he offered hope for joyce that she could have a safe and stable life and his death was like ripping away her last shred of hope. alexei and chrissy to me aren’t developed or integral to the story nearly enough for me to be sad that they’re dead i’m SORRY
22. your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores
ugh lucas’ storylines……s1 baby lucas so intent on getting his missing friend back that he goes to stake out a government lab BY HIMSELF and struggles to trust an outsider who he instinctively blames for the horrors until he empathizes with her and ultimately becomes her bestie…..s2 lucas developing feelings for max but literally being threatened and eventually attacked by her 18 year old racist brother and STILL making sure max knows that she’s a separate person who he cares about…..s3 lucas slaying bc that’s kinda all they let him do that season…….s4 lucas hoping he can thrive in high school and start a new chapter where he can feel socially accepted and kinda make a path for himself with a new interest but now max won’t talk to him and he’s worried about her and terrified for her wellbeing and no matter how much he tries to communicate this to her she continues to self isolate until finally his love for her is LITERALLY what saves her fucking life and also one of his friends dies horribly and it’s only given like 2 seconds of attention even though he’s clearly affected by it. god. all of lucas’ story arcs are so rich and compelling and no one ever wants to talk about him!!!!!!!!!
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𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟎.
𝓢𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓸𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓼 𝓣𝓸 𝓛𝓮𝓷𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓸
𝙎𝘼𝘾𝙍𝙄𝙁𝘼𝙈𝙀 𝙎𝙀𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙎
Yoko Ono’s Workbook
20th June 1970.
We were in LA for the past week. Two months passed from the shitshow that was 10th April- no scratch that- the whole month for John and me. John kept running around Starr and Harrison trying to ease the wound McCartney had been pouring salt on for the past few months recording Abbey Road. McCartney and him got along well when I got with John, but things took a turn for the worse when John went with me on their practices. But who can blame him for asking! God, if I was stuck with McCartney because of a ten year contract I’d be bored too. McCartney is a genius for melodies, but he really behaves like a peasant. I cannot believe I liked him at first! I liked him more than I liked John, which is offputting.
Today, we went to San Francisco with our friends, the Wenners, for a showing of the thing that is… Well it is like this year's April, movie Let It Be.
John was not ecstatic and dragged me to the side while the Wenners were busy formulating the route.
“Can we not?”, John turned away his eyes, not something John does.
“We didn’t watch it the first time. You have to face it someday.”, I tried to convince him.
“But does that have to be… today?”, he shifted his composure from relaxed to stiff.
“Kinda does love.”, I chuckled, “By delaying, you are going against your image.”
“That your right, Yoko.”, he patted me with a sad glint in his eyes. Melancholy didn’t suit him in the slightest. John went to them and joyfully told them to lead the way, embracing denial.
John grabbed me under my arm and we followed the pair to the theatre. We avoided the crowd which were excited to see another Beatles movie. He saw their smiling faces and barely held himself together. Thankfully there weren’t many of them. We went inside and grabbed first row seats which John hated very much but there was a smaller chance of being seen from the front so he obliged.
“I always wanted to see how you practice-d.”, Jann Wenner said to John.
“Oh, nothing much, could’ve just asked me directly, not see everything through the rosy lensed glasses of the director.”, John smiled.
“Maybe the director is more objective.”, Jane Wenner assumed.
“We’ll see.”, I ended the conversation before John would get heated, stubborn and try to defend his point.
John, like always, understood I was diffusing the situation and did nothing else?
The film began and I’m reminded of the chaos, suffering and pain I went through with John. Everything came back. Though that movie had only the nicer parts, McCartney's treatment of my husband was getting on my nerves and making me want to break something in the vicinity. I understand Harrison, he is a very pampered talented child who, at one moment, realized he didn’t want to be treated like that forever and he spends the whole movie trying to prove himself. I understood why I was disliked by him, he had less time to talk with John to show him his achievements. And my behavior didn’t help. Starr isn’t like either of the three that were in the band, so he didn’t deem me a threat. He liked me less because I was causing Harrison and McCartney to lash out.
But why did McCartney dislike me so much? Doesn’t he have a lifelong friendship with my husband? He even brought his own wife, Linda, and that still wasn’t enough for him to stop making inappropriate comments about John and me. They all brought them, why would I make such a difference? John always bites, of course. He would always defend me, like he used to defend Powell before he left her. Both of the Lennon/McCartney famous duo were perfectionists, even though I didn’t know that at the time because of John’s image. McCartney went into overworking while my husband went into laziness and disinterest, which was pleasantly being jammed down my throat with images of McCartney arguing to work, while John strummed into nothingness.
During those painful rehearsals, John and McCartney would always go and have a short private talk from which both of them would return equally angry. John was always visibly angry and aggressive, while the other one was passive aggressive like the snake he is.
One of them came back to me with full force, one which I witnessed when they thought no one was around. I never wrote it down in full.
“Why do you keep bringing Yoko with you?”, McCartney and John were standing in the “private” room.
“I dunno. Same reason you brought Linda? To show the fuck off!”, John went mad.
“You would never show off a woman! You always say there is more to a girl's girl! So, tell me why, John?”, McCartney most of the time fluttered his eyes when trying to pry.
“You forgot who you’re fucking talking to Paul.”, John was defensive and boiling from anger while trying to control it.
“Snap out of it, Lennon! Where is the lovely John I knew during the fifties? Who gave a shit!”
“Stuck in Strawberry Fields, musty gel quiff, overheating and asphyxiating in his stupid teddy boy getup. He is dead for all I know.”, John looked him straight in the eyes.
“You are avoiding the goddamn question Lennon.”, McCartney returned the favor.
“But I answered it!”, John shrugged and smiled.
McCartney pinned my husband to the wall. Tension reaches its boiling point, Lennon staring him down, huffing from anger, McCartney being cold and strong with his laser focus on my husband's eyes.
“You know what the hell I’m talking about smartass!”
My husband creeped awfully close to McCartney’s face… McCartney took on a heat red color.
“Maybe if we didn’t work like slaves in this sweatshop… Maybe if Brian wasn’t dead and kept you in check… Maybe if you for once listened to my suggestions too, not wanting to… I dunno, ask a third party which I won’t mention here because they are close to your heart… Maybe I wouldn’t bring Yoko around as my stress ball.”, John trailed around the room looking McCartney in the eyes.
“Oh, poor Lennon, being stressed because of his own stupid mistakes! Having a clear solution given to him in 1968! Having a perfect chance to do something with his fucking life: to not be a burden on the third party he won’t mention out of pity for himself! No wonder I don’t ask you for anything anymore! You have taken everything away from me.”
McCartney was by this point bawling.
“Still spewing the same bullshit during those ten days. For me it was becoming more clear I had to continue.”
“And I’m using that too, I truly am trying to work with you. I am trying, John.”, McCartney tried to pull himself together to no avail.
“Without you, Paul, without you… It’s clear now.”
He caressed McCartney’s face in a brotherly way.
“John… You’ll see that I’ll leave first.”
“I know. I know that well.”, my husband let out a tear, “You have to get yourself together, Paul, we have more stuff to shoot and rehearse…”
“You don’t need to remind me, John, you really don’t, I know that much better than you.”, McCartney rested his head on my husband’s shoulder.
They stared into the abyss that was the window. I went back to the main room forgetting what I was doing. They didn’t come back for the next fifteen minutes.
The same thousand yard stare was present in John watching what felt like a painstakingly long movie. When it was time for the concert his eyes were full of tears. He loved that concert even if it was huddled in the lowest point of his mental health. He was joyful, he was hopeful, he forgot what it felt to play live. McCartney singing made us both tear up… The songs he played were one of a kind and I’ll always respect him for that. John knew that none of the other members went to see the movie. His glasses glistened with tears. My hair got in my eyes. I wanted to hide. I was glad we were out of the toxic hands of McCartney’s overwork schedule yet looking back... He left for nothing. He left and didn’t feel proud. He left and made an album at his house, not even a studio...
John was hiding behind his hair too. He was reaching out for McCartney’s face. He was weeping, he was splitting. The movie was over and we didn’t wait any longer to get the hell out of the theatre.
Jann and Jane were sad and shocked. They saw us cry for the first time. But they did not know what sight awaited us.
John was brushing his tears constantly trying to stop crying, not succeeding. Again and again he would dry his tears, but his face would be wet. His eyes were red, his movement stiff, his face filled with worry and regret, his mind going to some other place.
“I’m sorry.”, Jann said, “We shouldn’t have brought you to the cinema… I feel so guilty.”
“No… It’s fine.”, John tried to play it cool, but his red and tearstained face said more than his words.
“It’s a great loss to music…”, Jane muttered, “I see that you think that too.”
“John really needs to spend some time away from them.”, I sniffled, “Some time. I did not want to make you breakup… It was your band, remember?”
I looked him in the eyes.
“I know, Yoko, I know.”, he kisses me on the lips. His lips were salty and warm.
We found a lonely bench somewhere in a city park and huddled in a foursome. Staring into the starry sky.
“You know, Paul and I used to stare into the sky together… We even had a star.”
“What star?”, Jann asked.
“It’s a secret, love.”, John smiled into the darkness.
“He told me that too, so you aren’t missing much.”, I joked.
John was in awe of the sky this night. Running away again.
“We passed the audition, but gave up.”, John referenced his joke.
John became absent, which was rare when I was around. Me and the pair talked while he hummed something. Only one part of him knew how to put me on hold and that was… Someone I didn’t see for a good while. Someone I kind of miss when John begins to malfunction. John struggled out of the group after a while when he calmed down.
“Thank you, that helped.”, he told our friends, “Should we head back to the hotel?”
“We should.”, Jann agreed, “And sincere condolences for the movie.”
“No condolences needed, love.”, John smiled feeling sad for all of us.
We headed back to the car, the pair leading the way, leaving John and me a bit behind.
“John is a fast walker so what is happening?”, I asked myself, “Could it be?”
“Yoko. I need to be serious for a moment.”
This isn’t John serious, John serious doesn’t mean getting awfully quiet and slow.
“Okay, what do you want to tell me, John?”
“I…”, he took me by the hand, “You know when Paul and I fought and he mentioned ‘68?”
“You told me that in 1968. Paul and you had a fight about Julia.”
John gulped.
“See, the reason why Paul was so, um, adamant about Julia was…”
“He liked Julia. That was reason! That was fucking reason for hell we went through!”, I thought.
“He loved her.”
“I cannot believe that man! You made your choice, John, why did he force that on you so much!”
John stopped me from ranting further.
“I’m not finished, Yoko.”
My heart skipped.
“I…”
“Oh god, please no. Love songs upon love songs… All written for… Were all of them written for…”, my mind got more and more occupied with bad thoughts.
“You loved him.”
“loved him for a while.”, he finished at the same time I said my conclusion.
“And when did you want to tell me this? Never! You! I accept you! I love you! And you betray me! Why, John, why?”
“I love you too!”, he hugged me, “I do. I had to tell you now. I couldn’t tell you when the Beatles were together, because of Paul! And I couldn’t get to tell you during April and May. I was depressed! You couldn’t see that!”
“I see that! I see! I feel! I am human too! I am wife! I make everything good for you! I try! I try my hardest to make John happy!”, I was losing my speech, I was losing my marbles, I was crying.
“You’re right…”
“Are you leaving me for that pushover! That no good McCartney! Are you leaving me! Are you?”
“No.”, he bit his lip and sorrowfully caressed my face like he did Paul’s, “I cannot ruin your life too. I ruined Cyn and Julian’s. I’m not ruining yours and mine.”
“Julia… You would leave… I know you would… You’re just lying!”, I screamed at her.
Julia, or the “real” part of John would always look at me neutral instead of lovey dovey like him. Although she is always welcome, I liked John a bit more. She never seemed to mind that.
“No, I am keeping him with you.”, she chuckled, “You’re silly, Yoko.”
She twirled my hair with her iconic melancholic look.
“I am not silly! I am serious.”
“I am not leaving, you are crucial to John’s survival.”, Julia laughed, “And I am serious. Just in a John way.”
“You're confusing.”, I started to calm down, “Great to see you still exist, Julia.”
“We are close hip to hip, but great to see you too, Yoko. Jules is fine also.”
Got a point there.
“You were in denial for so long I didn’t see you that much.”
“John would be very very sad if I showed meself.”
“We can be sad together.”, I offered.
“Now that both John and I are sad, it means that I can sort some things out… John is so unbreakable I sometimes forget he needs to act like a human.”
“He is… He is…”, I sniffled, “He is not some kind of idea. I wouldn’t marry him and be stuck with you too…”
“We are the same person are we not?”, she was being a smartass.
I was silent; were they really?
“Speechless huh?”, she smiled more.
“John was in denial, while you were fully aware of the feelings you felt”, I made a theory, “Before this year I used to see you a lot more… I mean, I know how you work Julia, I know when you become John and vice versa, but I never saw John switch for the past half a year.”
“Become? What… I was just… Being myself.”, she was thinking out loud, “Um, Yoko, I dunno, maybe it was my defense mechanism to remain like John for months on end.”
“I adore John. I do. But… He needs to relax. He needs to cry, and you are not letting him do that. Let him be vulnerable when he needs to! When he was today, because of his buildup, he couldn’t help wiping off his tears, in the meantime ruining your precious hard work or makeup. Imagine if our friends saw you, thankfully for you it's dark. You were lucky.”
“More like having the luck of the Irish.”, that response made me jab her softly on the shoulder.
She played with my hair… We continued walking.
“You plan to stay like this?”, I asked.
“I do. I am tired of being John Lennon for half a year.”
She held my hand close to her. That was the quality of my partner, even though it looked like John on the outside it would be obvious to me by the mannerisms that it was Julia, an overly sensitive, talkative, sarcastic and lovable woman.
The pair arrived at the car and they showed us to go faster.
“Couldn’t you have picked a better moment, Lennon?”
“That was the best moment to tell you, I wouldn’t have told you otherwise.”
“Maybe it sounds to you like normal talk…”
I ruffled her hair.
“At least you told me.”, I was thankful.
We went inside the car. The lights were dim and I fell asleep immediately. Julia’s lap was a very comfortable spot to lie on. I always wondered if she wanted to be a man from the beginning… I mean, who in their right mind would, if they were rejected from many bands run by men, conclude pretending to be a man to form a band is better than just waiting for the women to show interest? Was he the physical image for an escape from reality? She is a perfectionist in the same way as my husband but more… Stubborn. McCartney and even John could ask for help, but Julia… Julia would never let anyone tamper with her ideas and ideals, especially John (even though I consider him his own thing). Except me. Privilege carries between them… Though I wonder, does love count too?
I wake up to find Julia bent over waving a hand in front of me.
“Wakey wakey, wifey. We have arrived.”, the whole car chuckled.
“John, you are a pleasure.”, Jane commented.
“See you then tomorrow, we have so much to show you.”, Jann said.
“See ya.”, Julia went outside, opening the door for me.
“Ladies first.”, she giggled.
“You are all smiley.”, I added.
We went inside the hotel, Julia for the first time in forever, undressing after me. Usually she would go when I wasn’t looking so it felt like John was always there lurking, even in bed. I felt great but I felt like he was trapped. She relaxed in a chair.
“Why do you let me influence you?”, I questioned, my curiosity piqued.
“Scared I’ll disappear too early?”, she asked.
“Answer with an answer, Lennon.”
“Hm, I like that you can keep John safe and sterile.”, she admitted.
I was shocked by her statement! But that was Julia, Julia was always so out of the box.
“You don’t think I’m breaking any molds? I want to do the opposite!”, I was uncomfortable.
“No, no, your work is great, just John needs an anchor and you fit the description. Also, safe and sterile doesn’t mean not socially active, just not as impulsive as most of the times during Beatles.”
“You’re impulsive? But you seem so calm and collected?”
“I am… Everything is based on a hunch. That’s how I write.”, she explained, “I had a hunch that Beatles were going to break up because of me, I had a hunch you would keep John on the right track, I had a hunch that Cyn will be better off without John and I had a hunch I had to continue pretending I was John all those years ago. Gosh, for how long now… Thirteen years. Wow.”, she stopped, “I’m old.”
I laughed, “No, you’re just right. And if you are, then what am I? A grandma?”
“Always liked older women-”
“Oh, stop it!”, I pinch her cheek half seriously.
“Exactly why you can tend to Johnny boy. You’re not afraid of pushing the limit. I love that about ya.”
I blushed without realizing then. I realized moments later when I began stumbling over my words.
“Um, thank you- for noticing. Only normal for me.”
We were quiet for a moment, while Julia grabbed a book to read.
“What did you think of me when I met John… When we first met…”
“I thought you were a great gal doing her own thing and surviving in a man’s world.”, she gazed into my eyes, “Also that you are a very capable and funny person.”
I was proud.
“What did you think of me, darling?”, she asked me.
“I thought you were the wrong Beatle. I wanted to meet McCartney, instead I ended up with you of all people. Then, I didn’t know about Julia so I thought you were more than you show and was I ever so right.”
“Tsk, tsk, I am always the right Beatle.”, she scoffed like she hadn’t heard my answer a hundred times, “I asked for plain me.”
I remembered the moment when John told me about Julia.
“I told you then… You revealing your photos, your clothes, your books, your feelings made me conclude that being with John was going to be more interesting. Your presentation is always so grand.”
“Thank you, oh Yoko.”, she told me.
Another small pause. She got her pair of cat-eye glasses and began reading. I stopped her with a serious question:
“Were McCartney and you ever together?”
She closed the book and plainly said,
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Seven years.”
My mouth dropped. McCartney and Lennon were together even though Lennon was married.
“Wait, wait, Julia, how were you two together when John was married to Cynthia? You are a cheater!”
Julia was heartbroken.
“I realized that a bit too late. For the public it was two different people so it didn’t matter but… It was so fucked up. Exactly why I ruined Cyn’s life. She even knew it and let me do it. Because she had John.”
“Julia. I am now dead serious. Are you going to do that to me?”
Julia’s usual poker face disappeared.
“I don’t love him anymore. I got over him.”, Julia was depressed.
I embraced her.
“Look, if you are still bummed about him and his plans, you can always write about that alright… Your venting to me about Paul has gained a new quality to it.”, I sighed.
Julia was always so complicated underneath her songs. I have to admit she is the one in control whenever John is writing.
“I have to get meself together…”, she said under her breath.
“I’ll help you.”, I caressed her face.
“You help enough by just being there.”, she gave me a weak smile.
I sat in her lap. She was comfortable with that.
“You never told me more about yourself, only stuff I’ve seen.”
“You know John well, so you- I’ll stop using this joke.”
She put away the book.
“Ask away.”, she stared at my figure.
“What was the relationship between you and Powell?”
“Us two are best friends.”, she smiled, “She had a soft spot for John so we had an idea to pretend we’re together when I’m him.”
“You mean she liked him.”
“Yeah.”
“So she knew everything you did?”
“John and her were together for so long. Of course she knew.”, she was direct and that hurt. I was… Jealous?
She found that amusing.
“Oh.”, I continued, “Did you sleep with any other women as John?”
Her eyes widened with suppressed laughter.
“I had to because I needed to uphold his image. But I didn’t like any of ‘em. I like men more.”, she collected herself, “Don’t worry, John is just yours. And I’ll tell you if he sleeps with anyone like I told-”
“Powell, who is your best friend still!”, I pouted.
“But who is with John?”
“I am.”
She booped my nose. It was obvious she valued me the same as she valued Powell.
“Did John like McCartney too?”
“Hm… In a small part.”, Julia told me, “I was the one doing the liking mostly.”
My jealousy was worsening.
“Paul was jealous of us for a long time, maybe he still is. Since I broke up with him, left Cyn and got with you, he was unbearable.”
So McCartney was jealous. He didn’t dislike me because of my character, but because I was with Julia all the time. Well, that is so-
I bursted into laughter.
“And he’ll never admit that, that bastard.”, she clucked.
“Guessing he’ll blame everything on me.”
“No, he’ll blame everything on John. Then on you.”, she proposed.
We both laughed.
“Julia, did you ever wish to be just John?”, I asked.
She raised her eyebrow.
“I wouldn't be able to wear me dresses then. And that would suck. Why ask that?”, she looked me up and down.
“Why would you spend so much time as John then?”
She was dumbfounded. It looked like she never asked herself that question.
“Huh… That’s a good question to mull over.”
She put a hand on her chin and looked into the window behind us. She was thinking over everything. She hugged herself with one hand while holding me with the other.
“It would certainly be easier…”, she barely uttered, “Everything would be simpler…”
She glanced into my lips.
“I would be able to be an ideal in full.”, she pressed her lips onto mine.
I succumbed to them. Those tearstained lips felt chapped and rough like John’s. She stopped and charmingly remarked,
“But life is not like that is it?”
I infectiously grinned. She was beaming.
“We should spend more time like this.”, I suggested, “I never get to spend time with happy Julia. Only serious Julia, only Julia that has to deal with John’s problems.”
“Then grab some poetry and let's read together.”, Julia put her book on the bed.
I went to our bookshelf and grabbed some of Oscar Wilde’s poetry. Lennon always had books.
“Oh, good choice.”, she noticed my choice.
I sat on her lap again, making myself comfortable.
“If you’re now comfortable, choose a poem.”, she opened the page with the names of poems.
“Hm, let’s just start from the beginning and read from there.”, I played with her hair.
“Alright, Yoko.”, she passed a few pages to the first poem, “Ravenna.”
She began reading. Her voice flowed differently than John’s, much more silky and relaxed. She was mesmerizing and showed she cared about making the poem interesting the story beautiful and exciting.
“And England, too, shall glory in her son,
Her warrior-poet, first in song and fight.
No longer now shall Slander's venomed spite
Crawl like a snake across his perfect name,
Or mar the lordly scutcheon of his fame.”
This verse stuck with me…
She began yawning after ten poems. It was already early morning.
“Looks like the warrior poet lost her stamina.”
“I’m no warrior, maybe a bad poet.”, she hugged me, “We should sleep.”
I went and jumped onto my half. She lied down onto hers.
“Good night, Jules.”, I said her nickname for the first time.
“Good night, raven head. Sweet dreams.”
“When will be the next time?”
“Whenever you want.”
I kissed her.
“Then tomorrow.”
“I thought you’d miss John.”
“We’re helping him.”, I snuggled into her chest.
She was a bit uncomfortable.
“Relax. I’m your wife remember?”
She snorted.
“Yoko, you’re silly.”, she snuggled me further.
We fell asleep like that. Writing this now, I have a plan. I need to get Julia to let down her walls so John could be more truthful to me… He needs to heal. And knowing her and fixing her is the only way. I wonder where Jules would like to go out the most, maybe she made a plan already…
Rest of Sacrifame
#classic rock#john lennon#the beatles#beatles fanfiction#mclennon#paul mccartney#yoko ono#let it be#ringo starr#george harrison#cynthia lennon#get back#seventies#1970s
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For the ask game: 3, 9, 10, 15
3.) Part of canon that almost nobody understands.
Hmmm. There are many ways to take this. Maybe the Lore bc t's too confusing? 🤣
How about this- Chloé's home life. And it's not that nobody understands, but some people Very Vocally misunderstand or worse, misrepresent it. I don't blame fandom because the head writer himself denies the very truth presented on screen, so what are some kids to do? The abuse narrative accidentally(?) shown for Chloe is very detailed and clear, yet some will fight tooth and nail to justify the most bizzare takes on it. I spent a couple hours the other day having a baffled back and forth with someone who thought being sent away with an abusive parent was a good/Just/proper writing choice. By the end I got them to admit that having Andre just let Audrey(the woman he wouldn't stay married to because of how she treats him) take away his daughter was a *bad* thing to portray, but it took way too long to get there.
Still, small victories I guess.
9.) The three worst things about the source material.
a)The head writer's inability to take critique/his insecurity. So much time and energy is spilled 'proving him right' that we are losing out on better plotlines. When the man writers his twitter rants into the scripts, you know he's got a problem.
b)The end of Season 5. Just... yeah so much of it. Things wobbled now and then before, but man it went off the rails, burst into flames, and destroyed a nearby orphanage at the end there.
c)I don't know? Like, so much can be traced back to 'A' above, that it's hard to pick at other stuff? There's a root cause, and it permeates. If that were fixed, the rest wouldn't happen and you'd have a more coherent and healthy narrative.
10.) The three worst things about the fandom
a)Character Salt- Holy heck people. As a Chloe fan I expect some salt thrown her way, but Jesus in Heaven *waves at what people do to Alya* What the hell is THAT? Alya is amazing, she's a wonderful bestie, Salting her? WHY? It's insane. Salting Chloe goes way too far too. She is not your personal bully. This is not revenge porn. What about the Marinette/Adrien Stan one and Salt the other? What the heck is that? They're the main couple! If you want to salt the writing, do it! It's so full of holes Plagg thinks it's cheese. Leave these poor kids alone though.
b)Purity Tests- A different kind of 'salt' than above. There are big segments of the fandom who cannot handle the slightest analysis or critique of the media. Anything but a slavish devotion and acceptance of everything on screen as the best/rightest/most moral and ethical take is considered 'hater/salt' without question. Either you are ostracized for voicing any dissent, or actively attacked.
c)Segregation- Maybe it's something common now in fandoms, but I'm struck by how compartmentalized people are. There is very little flow between the spheres. Like Love Square? then you stay away from any rare pairs involving them. Lukanette? Love Square is your bane, etc etc.
15.) Canon needs more...
Love Conquering all. S5 really drove this home. Love fails miserably time and time again in S5. It's kind of weird. People use love to *justify* actions left and right, but in the moment love tends to lead to failure and loss more than anything else. I don't understand how this was seen as a good idea.
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For Zophus & Raph: “ this is torture, isn’t it? “ “ not in the slightest. “
I HAVE ANOTHER ENABLER! I threw Haarlep in, too. Haarlep will be given their/them pronouns due to not really being sure if masculine is their preferred form or Raphael's preferred form. Tossing in a little bit of Pathfinder lore because I like mixing my planar stuff together and D&D has a woeful amount of celestial lore. Again, using the 2nd point of view though the Named Tav in question isn't the 'reader'.
sacred romantic raph being an ass moments meme
The scent of musk in the air reminds you of embers, the appealing tangling cruelly with the sour memory of childhood. You blame that squarely on the shoulders of the incubus who rises from the tangle of sheets, limbs, and leathery wings. There was hope, of course there was, of you being caught between master and slave and the temptation still aches on your tongue.
And yet you're still here, settled on a chair that is soft and inviting under your muscular form, large enough to hold you comfortably. Your breathing is even due to effort though your blood sings in your veins and you are hard - almost painfully so - against the wool of your pants and small clothes.
One of the near identical heads rise, though you know it's Haarlep, even before you see the shockingly younger features of Raphael upon them. The appearances puzzles you, you're not sure if this is how Raphael truly sees himself or if it is a small rebellion of the enslaved fiend to be different than his master.
There's a grin that's not quite the same, but it's sharp and unkind towards the little thief that's snuck upon their master's home. Jealousy or disruption of the long game between them, you cannot tell. Wordlessly the naked fiend passes you, and you refuse to follow their wake. Rather you feel the heat of the incubus' passing.
Your gaze then returns to the cambion and you despite the fact you can easily tell them apart by motion and gesture. The movement of powerful limbs and crimson wings, ember eyes on you, the smile on carved features.
"Why does a hungry man not partake in such a feast during a famine?" Raphael murmurs in that smokey tone of his, all gravel and rumble, and not like the coy silk of Haarlep's voice.
"I've become a man now?" You respond, your voice lower than you'd like, the coloring of lust betraying you, fraying the edges of an oath made in anguish.”Not a mouse?”
"Answering a question with a question; your blood seems not to be of an archon. An azata perhaps, the song of freedom under colorful wings,” The cambion hums with amusement, “Perhaps that is why you buckle so under the tenets of a faction that has no need of your skin."
The word azata means nothing to you; a deep sorrowful regret that you don't know your own blood. Your own life beat and how you've come about in the planes. You merely shake your head, "A creature of order criticizing a philosophy of supreme order."
"Perhaps if I were a full blooded fiend, the irony would be more apt." Raphael lifts his arms with clawed fingers laced together and stretches, the smooth ruby skin shining in the light of boudoir’s lamps and lanterns. "Shall we blame my mother who could never live up to the ideals of Baator until her death and descent? Still, there's my father. Perhaps he is even more to blame for my taste of whimsy." Wings settle about Raphael and he smiles before he begins to rise. You catch the gleam of cum on his thigh, dripping from his copulation with Haarlep.
He had wanted you to join. You had wanted to join. The only chains that bound you to your chair was your oath.
There's no snap of his fingers as he approaches you, his height and weight once there and now gone. The ruby of his skin was replaced by copper tone. Horns gone. And yet he's still naked, still muscular, but now lean. A body that betrays the lines of his carved face. That puzzle whispers to you again. Cambions are immortal, they stop aging. And yet Raphael appears to you as a man in his middle age prime and not someone closer to your own. You are a young man just settling into the second year of his third decade; twenty two.
His eyes take in your form, the slow drag of it can almost be felt and your cock aches even harder. You inhale, exhale slowly, and smell nothing but cherries and brandy. You do not reach for him as he stands before you, leaning over you, the heat of his body so terribly close.
"This is torture, isn't it, Zophus?" He murmurs, half question and half admission.
"Not in the slightest," You lie as Raphael hand catches your jaw, as you can smell Haarlep's musk on him, and as you wonder how quickly you could make the cambion come. Or how long you could make him beg. How long it would take the mask the scent of the incubus with your own.
Lying, after all, does not break your oath.
#answered ask#dujour13#raphael#raphael bg3#raphael x tav#character: zophus#character: sophus#character: raphael
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🥰🤭🧸😊 Also, favorite Gargoyles character, storyarc, and what you'd have liked to see in the show if it had continued (I haven't read any of the recent comics).
Awww you are genuinely too sweet. (I’m kind of glad I give off soft vibes to at least one person, I worry I tend to be prickly 😅)
Favourite character I do think is Demona. She- hold on, I’m gonna ramble for a moment.
I really do love how they made her a tragic monster yet a monster nonetheless. She’s so miserable and lonely and most of her problems are her own fault but she CANNOT face up to that, how can she really face up to the immensity of what she’s done. So she runs, and she hides, and she blames everyone she can for the things she’s brought upon herself. What else can she do really? Her spite and hatred are the only things keeping her going and they keep her going for a thousand years. She won’t give it up for the man she loved and may still love, she won’t give it up for her daughter, she won’t give it up for her kind despite claiming to do it all for them. She lost herself in the mad dash away from her atrocities. She throws away any chance at happiness at the slightest possibility it may go poorly because she’d rather do so than risk it. Queen of cutting off your nose to spite your face. She was given a name, something gargoyles generally don’t have, by a human she grew to hate yet never gave the name up. I have her action figure.
(Also it is WILD to me that the writers found a loophole that allowed her to go on a killing spree of actual humans in a Disney cartoon)
Shout outs to Goliath, Elisa, Hudson, Angela and my BOY Bronx though. They’re also some of the favourites and honestly this is a show where just about every character I at least like.
As for story arc, hmm. Macbeth and Demona’s weird little dance comes to mind, and the City of Stone episodes were a big part of that. As well as that King Arthur just… shows up a couple of times. I’m also kinda partial to the first season which was largely just “will our heroes literally ever get a leg up on Xanatos?”
(The comics are pretty fun! If a bit rushed.) Hmm, I think I do want to know a bit more about the Illuminati and how they work in this universe. I’d like to see more of Alex’s growth and his dynamic with Lex. Oh! Also I kind of wish we got a bit more focus on Elisa and Broadway’s friendship. Same with Hudson and Robins. Also I would like to see more Sevarius popping up and somehow surviving whatever mess gets caused.
Thank you for the chance to ramble a bit about the show!!!
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