#i do hope that at least its coherent enough to make sense

[alcyonei]

As someone who avoids their reflection for a variety of reasons, but who also cares about their appearance, I don't think Astarion would forget what he looks like entirely.

Like in a pinch I can do minimal makeup without a mirror, including setting my hair and drawing on eyebrows just cuz I've fussed so much so long about these things I know where I like them to go/fall and can do them by touch-memory. If Astarion is anything like that- which he kinda is- then in his first life, he must've fussed with his appearance so much, he just knows. He might've even done multiple reflection checks throughout the day to make sure everything was still in place, not necessarily to marvel or even significantly look at himself. Even as a magistrate, he had an image to uphold, and thats really all he looked for in the mirror.

Regardless, 200 years is a long time to go without seeing your own face, and given his struggles with abuse, torture, and identity, it also must've impacted his self-image. The thing is- and this is drawing from personal experience- he probably has at least two images of himself in his mind, the one that he uses to charm (imaging himself as his most charming, beautiful self, as someone who is undeniably attractive) and that which is impacted by the abuse (seeing himself as broken, worthless, monstrous, etc).

The other spawn obviously can help him with the menial things like doing his hair or whatever, but he probably gets very particular if something doesn't feel right, or if he just knows they're not making him look like he wants, they're combing his hair all wrong, they're using too much balm, etc. He would probably train himself to do it alone, not trusting anyone else to get it right.

So if tav does draw him, more than anything he might just play it off cool, not recognizing himself at first but having a vague idea that it's him. "Is that really what I look like?" he'd say, almost dismissively, as if you either don't have the eye and skill to capture his glorious charm, or how dare you outline such unseemly lines across his carefully cared for visage.

But he'll keep staring at the picture. He'll keep staring so intently he won't listen to anything you answer. He'll drink up every single detail, because even if it isn't directly from the source, it's something. You let him keep the drawing and he hangs it up. Maybe he tucks it into his mirror's frame. Maybe he stares at it as he falls asleep and tries to reconcile his distorted images of himself with an image of how someone sees him. It may be too much to process alone. He falls asleep with it.

Maybe he later begins to question how true to real life it might be given your...bias, because although he remembers being good-looking with some degree of certainty, he doesn't remember ever being quite so beautiful. Why would you draw him like this, he'd wonder. Logically, he knows. Logically, he understands you must find him at least physically appealing enough to be intimate. But the mundane beauty of the man in the drawing, surely that's not him, is it? Just existing. Just beautiful by virtue of being? That's.....that's not.....

He'll never admit to you that it brings him close to tears sometimes. But he'd never stop looking at it.

[icallhimjoey]

Lost & Found

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader    

Summary: You take a little break, a week away to somewhere warm to relax and calm your senses. So does Joe – same flight, same hotel, same travel plans and, worst of all, same suitcase. What was meant to be a lovely trip to the sun starts off on the wrong foot when you find expensive designer outfits belonging to a man in what you thought was your suitcase.    

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, lots of swearing, we get a little spicy but nothing too bad, 18+ just in case though!    

Author’s note: so, i wrote half of this severely sleep-deprived and half of this whilst feeling unwell, so... i don't know man, i hope that i tied it all together somewhat coherent for you all and that you enjoy! comments, likes, messages, reblogs etc. all highly appreciated, thanks!

Wordcount: 4.4K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

The door fell into its lock behind you and the eye-contact was not something you wanted to be the first to break.

Nothing happened for a second. You just stood close in your silent hotel room and looked at each other. You tried to focus on breathing at a normal pace which seemed, no, was an impossible task.

Had you ever really noticed what Joe’s eyes looked like? 

You had.

But like this? 

Yea, you had, actually.

Hey, fuck you, don’t judge. See them up close first before calling someone crazy.

You had noticed his eyes. You’d noticed lots of things about him, but his eyes? There was something about his fucking eyes and he was looking back at you now, his moving between yours, and oh my God, how long were you just going to stare directly into each other’s eyes like this?

It was nearing uncomfortable when suddenly you saw his eyes shoot down, past your lips, down your body, and then back up.

“Do you…” Joe started, voice low and soft, but he didn’t finish the sentence. You tried guessing what it could have been, what he was about to ask, but you couldn’t think straight.

Not with Joe so close and the energy all thick and crackly.

Were you even breathing at all at this point?

Seconds passed, but it felt like minutes did when you suddenly felt how your whole body swayed forward. Nearly into him. So very nearly.

You swallowed, and then so did Joe, and why the fuck was no one doing anything?

His eyes moved again, but past you now. Over your shoulder. And then he reached. Leant closer to you as he reached an arm behind and opened the door to the bathroom. It made you step back a little, which was just right, because that was where Joe wanted you. The faint excuse of sand everywhere, of barely sunburnt pulling skin, of salty seawater that left your legs somewhat sticky, all enough to pull you into the bathroom for a shower.

No words were shared at all when you stepped inside. You watched as Joe turned the shower on, knew how it worked because his hotel room had the exact same one, and when Joe started undressing, you followed without question.

It wasn’t weird.

You tried to think of reasons of why it wasn’t weird, but you couldn’t come up with anything quick enough.

You decided that maybe you were just weird and the situation was maybe sort of the same amount of weird for everything to feel normal.

Well. Semi-normal, at least.

It was fine.

You were undressing in your bathroom and this time Joe was in the room with you instead of just outside, sat on a chair, listening carefully to make sure you didn’t collapse.

Steam started filling up the room when you stepped out of your bikini bottoms and for a second you forgot that this was likely not going to be an actual shower shower, but more just a sexy excuse to touch each other all over.

Just like you’d done the day before when Joe had been sat on a chair outside the bathroom door, you collected your bikini to rinse out in the shower.

Resourceful type of shit. Like your mother had taught you.

This time however, it wasn’t just your two-piece that you picked up off the floor; you also found Joe’s swimming shorts.

You didn’t realise that maybe this was a little strange when you stepped into the hot stream with all of it in hand and heard Joe huff in silent laughter.

“It’s just, I always, you know... to get them clean,” you said, holding all of it under the water, focussing on getting every inch of every item wet. It was nice to have a job to direct your focus, something to keep your hands and eyes busy and not, you know, with the naked man who was stood right behind you.

Your shoulders were the first thing two cold, only cold because the water was hot, large hands touched of you.

For a second you thought he was going to stop you like he would stop you from biting at your fingernails, but instead, his hands trailed up a bit until they touched your neck and then went down your back a little to the spots where he’d paid close attention to sore muscles the day before.

Pressing both thumbs into the flesh there worked like a reset button, it was almost embarrassing how fast your body folded.

Your head fell forward, and your arms dropped down. You went as lax as you could standing up still, and it got another soft chuckle from Joe.

Next thing you knew, the swimming garments were taken from your hands and hung over the glass shower screen before hands found your shoulders again. Before strong fingers pushed and kneaded the sore spots that needed it so.

Hot water.

Naked skin.

Hands doing exactly what you wanted them to.

Shit.

Yea, you'd been after intimacy, but you kind of expected that whatever you'd been after wouldn’t made you... oh, you know, feel things.

Just taking deep breaths wasn't enough to push down whatever was trying to make its way out of you.

It was confusing and silly - you wouldn't even let yourself come close to this on your own, by yourself, but now, here, completely in the nude with another person in the shower with you, this was the right time for emotions to let themselves be known?

No.

Not on your watch.

You scrunched up your forehead as much as it was willing to wrinkle from all sides, eyebrows doing the most, because if you didn’t, your lip would wobble, mouth showing all the emotions that resided on the inside. You didn’t even think they were real emotions to begin with - you were just tired. But a big pout and a quivering chin were things you couldn’t control, were things that would just do whatever by themselves and there was no stopping them. 

Couldn’t have that, could you?

So you redirected it to the top-half of your face. Sure, it made tears spill faster, but somehow that felt fine. There was water there already anyway, the shower a perfect coverup for them. You’d rather it be this. This was prettier and felt controlled, easier to hide.

It wasn’t, though.

It took no time for you to be fucking shaking all over.

Trying to control the shaking only made it worse. And it got worse fast. Especially when you turned and you saw how Joe reacted to what he saw. Copied it. Knitted his eyebrows together like yours were and created a whole crumply mess on his face and, had you mentioned his eyes already?

You had.

Fucking stunning. Absolutely beautiful.

They weren’t helping.

This was meant to be a sexy shower for fuck’s sake.

If you could just. 

Relax.

Have a drink.

Ignore whatever stirred inside.

That’d be perfect.

You took a few deep breaths through flared nostrils that you let out through your mouth and, there you went. It worked a little. Forehead stayed scrunched, just in case, but you felt yourself relax a little. Felt heavy shit ebb away a little.

“This is why, you know that, right?” 

The hurt turned into confusion. Was only a minor change.

“If you’re going to keep pushing it down, it’ll affect you physically,” 

You snorted. Hid the way you knew he was right with a laugh. Tried to turn it into jokes.

“Okay, doctor,” 

But Joe didn’t laugh. Just swiped your hair from the front of your shoulders to your back before using large palms to push it back from your face too.

“What’s plaguing you?” He spoke so softly, you barely heard it over the clatter of shower water that hit the tiles in streams from both your elbows. 

“I’m fine, it’s just… it’s just work,” 

Joe didn’t respond to your answer at all. Just kept wiping hands near your hairline, in turn smoothing out all the lines of worry you’d etched in there. It made you grab onto his wrists to stop him. 

He did stop, but didn’t move, and then you just stood like that a second with your forehead all smooth and you had to close your eyes because the shower water was running directly into them.

The fact that joe was staring down into your soul went ignored because it was just easier if you didn’t think about being so seen.

“I don’t…” you started, stupid lip wobbling once more because Joe’s hands prevented you from redirecting everything, “I don’t want to cry.” 

“If you’ve got to cry, you’ve got to cry.” 

“I’m just, I’m tired and that fucks with everything, doesn’t it?” 

You kept thinking there was going to be a moment where Joe would laugh. Chuckle or softly snicker or even exhale a little louder than usual, but he never did.

Just stayed silent.

Watched what your face did and rubbed a thumb across where he saw you try to frown.

“What if I don’t stop?” 

“Crying?”

“You didn’t come up here to have me cry in the shower for ages,” you laughed at yourself and then groaned loudly, all frustrated. “God, you must think I’m so fucking weird,”

Joe reached and had a squint at the tiny cursive letters of whatever small tube he picked up.

Shampoo.

Nice.

He flicked it open with his thumb and said, “Well, in my defence,” which made you laugh. “I never thought that the girl I met wearing my clothes wasn’t at least a little strange,”

He was right. You hadn’t once tried to sell to Joe that you were normal. Which was actually sort of perfect. Made you feel less bad about your laughter turning into a weird choked sob when Joe got started on washing your hair.

Made you feel less bad when you apologised, and Joe held your whole head, wide hands splayed fingers from your jaw back to the base of your skull, and forced eye-contact when he said to stop apologising already.

Made you feel less bad when you, through teary laughter, commented on the lack of sex appeal you'd dragged into the shower, that hadn’t been the intention at all, and Joe just said, “We got time.”

Made you feel less bad when, after Joe turned the shower off, all you wanted to do was curl into the white fluffy dressing gown and flop down onto the bed, ready to pass out.

Because you hadn’t lied. You were tired.

Joe let you nap there after watching you run your hands over the covers, murmuring something about clean sheet day before you drifted off.

And, listen.

Yea, Joe hadn’t expected for any of this week to go the way it had gone so far. He’d intended for the trip to be a little break from work, to simply get his mind off of everything going on at home by sleeping in, and by reading books, and by swimming slow laps in the hotel pool for however long he wanted.

Well.

He’d barely even touched the book he’d brought, hadn’t swam a single lap in the hotel pool but! But! Had this... had all of this not taken his mind off of everything?

It had.

Joe hadn’t thought of work, of his schedule, of auditions and of lines he had to learn - he hadn’t thought of any of that once.

And he got to help someone.

Well, not just someone.

You.

He got to make you laugh, got to make you eat, got to make you relax. Got to hold you as you slept. Got to touch you in the shower. Not... not in all the ways he’d wanted to. Yet. But he’d been forward about it. Said there was time still. Which, there was. He’d only met you three days ago, which, was that right? Joe had to count using his fingers to check, because didn’t that feel like weeks ago already?

And sure, you kept saying sorry for being a burden, kept telling him he was free to go whenever, you didn’t want to ruin his trip, you know?

But how was he going to tell you that, actually, this was exactly right for him right now? Have his focus be on someone else entirely instead of on himself for a second?

And the answers were so easy too, weren’t they? All basic shit.

You woke up about an hour later with your feet in Joe's lap, left foot in his hands, slowly kneading as he watched TV.

You looked up, stirred a little, felt a little dazed. Took you a second to realise where you were. Who was there with you. Who was holding your foot.

“Hey,” Joe smiled lazily at you, and for a second, he thought maybe this was too much. Maybe he’d overstepped. You’d fallen asleep in your bed, naked body wrapped up in fluffy white, and Joe’d just sat down next to you. Turned on the TV, volume all the way down, like he was in his own hotel room, and when you started twisting and turning a little, he’d taken hold of your feet. Hoped that his grip would ground you in some way.

He thought it had done, because for the rest of your nap you’d barely moved at all.

For about ten minutes, your feet had just laid there. On his lap. You had nice feet, Joe thought, you know, as far as feet went. Nice legs too. Bruised a bunch, sure. Scraped from where you’d fallen, kind of similar to your face, but nice none the less. Eyes traveled up more, and that’s when Joe saw.

He tried not to see. Actively tried his bestest best not to look.

You’d cried over things you didn’t know how to explain and maybe... maybe Joe should’ve left after. Or, at least, maybe Joe shouldn’t have sat down and dragged your feet onto his lap because now, one wrong move and you'd flash your full vagina for the whole room to see.

Joe could already sort of see it now anyway, but he was actively not looking and massaged a foot to keep himself busy.

Don't look, man.

Stop.

Stop looking.

It took you ages to slowly stir awake again. And what a way to wake up. What a view to wake up to.

Joe was sat against the headboard, just in his T-shirt and the remnants of a towel that had been tied around his waist before he’d sat down.

Slow and sleepy, you sat up, and it made Joe try to protect your modesty by going, “Oh, your… the dressing gown– you, it’s ridden up, it’s–”

It was of no use, because you paid your dressing gown no mind, no matter how much of you got exposed. It was time for bits being exposed, you thought.

You moved from sitting up onto your knees, feet sliding from Joe’s lap as you did, your hair all sleep-messy and eyes barely open.

“What are you…?” Joe asked softly, but didn’t finish his question because he knew exactly what you were doing as you inched closer, hands finding his shoulders to hold as your knees dented the mattress either side of him. You lowered yourself onto his lap, your warmth sinking into his, and you grinned. Hummed in satisfaction. There was plenty of fabric in between the two of you – the sheets, Joe’s towel, your dressing gown – but it was all easily removed, one simple swipe away from connecting skin to skin.

“Hi,” Joe softly whispered as you leant closer, and he seemed unsure on if he should sit up a little or not, his hands unsure of if he should touch you a little or not.

Was sort of endearing.

Man had taken a whole shower with you and now didn't know if it was all right to touch you.

So, you helped. Took hold of his hands and guided them to your waist, more towards your back, and when you leant down enough for Joe to tip his chin up and kiss you, his arms did exactly what you wanted them to do as they tightly wrapped around.

Yes.

Exactly.

This was exactly right.

You’d cried, you’d slept, you’d gotten your hair washed and you’d gotten your feet rubbed and now, you wanted to kiss the boy.

And kiss the boy you did.

Well. You kissed him for maybe three seconds. After that, the boy was kissing you.

The dressing gown was tied loosely enough for it to come undone when Joe grabbed two fistfuls of fabric at your back and had Joe not looked at your flesh for long enough now?

The feel of the bare skin of your chest was enough to quickly lose his T-shirt.

The feel of his mouth on your neck was enough to fight your way out of the dressing gown entirely.

You’d never had sex quite like it.

Quite so slow. Quite so loving and so tender, and you know you couldn't stop thinking about his eyes, but maybe Joe had to stop making so much eye-contact if he didn't want you thinking of them all the time, you know?

And Joe was just helping, wasn’t he?

Get your mind empty.

Undo you of stresses that had no right squatting in your muscles like that.

Make you feel good, the way he knew how.

Just helping.

And it did help.

Joe helped when he had almost agonisingly slow sex with you in your hotel room.

Joe helped when after, he suggested going down to his hotel room to enjoy room service in his bed, because hadn’t you said something about clean sheet day earlier?

Joe helped when he let you choose his outfit for the next day and laughed at how you kept scrunching your nose at the selection of clothing items he'd brought. Honestly, what the fuck had he been thinking?

Helped when he just smiled and shrugged and wore whatever you’d laid out for him.

Helped when he told the host downstairs at the restaurant that your seperate reservations for one were to be merged into reservations for two because you’d be having the rest of your meals together now.

Helped when he made sure you had water after having a fruity cocktail by the pool which he made you sip before helping you into the freezing water that hurt your bones, it was so cold.

Helped when he just let you hang onto him in there, arms around his neck and legs around his waist, as he waded through the water for a bit, sun on his back and bright on your face.

Helped when he searched for your wrist again in the night and felt for your pulse, and you'd gone, “You know I’m not— you don’t need to,” and Joe’d quietly replied, “No I know,” before adding, “Is just nice.”. 

Helped when he let you wear one of his jackets once more when you went for drinks up at the rooftop on your last night there and wouldn’t stop commenting on how good it looked on you on the back-end of soft sighs.

You knew just this one week away wouldn’t fix all the things wrong in your life. Knew they’d just be waiting for you when you’d get back home. But, man, spending half this trip with Joe had made you temporarily forget about a lot of the bullshit, and wasn’t that why your boss had sent you away in the first place?

Joe had helped.

The skin around your fingers had started healing enough for it to no longer look like you dipped the tips of them into acid on the reg.

Joe had helped you beyond belief.

And so when the day arrived on which you both would be going back home, an unsaid solemnity hung in the air that the both of you tried your very best to ignore.

It was okay.

You were taking the same flight home, so your time together wasn’t over when you checked out of the hotel. And you’d exchanged numbers, said you’d both be busy the second you'd set foot back in London, but you’d keep in touch. It was a casual agreement of which you knew that potentially, it’d never actually happen.

Just a polite nicety, because what kind of rude person wouldn’t say something like that after the week the two of you had had?

But you weren’t dense.

When you arrived at the airport, you had a weird sort of more heartfelt goodbye moment in the back of your shared taxi. Where there were no other people to ogle and you didn’t feel so weird because, you really weren’t anything together, the two of you, and saying goodbye at airports was an activity strictly set aside for couples, wasn’t it?

Before you moved to get out of the backseat, Joe’d knocked your knee with his to get your attention. The look in his eyes had made you use both arms in a hug that grew tighter and lasted longer than you expected it would have. Then just a peck to your cheek, followed by a quick one to your mouth and a smile.

You didn’t sit remotely close to each other on the plane, couldn’t even see each other from where you were both sat. You kind of handled it like a big girl and told yourself this was just the transition back into the real world where you didn’t know each other at all.

Your week together could just be that. Your week together. Full stop.

It took you the whole flight back to convince yourself you were okay with that.

Joe could just exist as the bits of arm and leg in the corners of pictures of cocktails and nice meals in your camera roll.

That was it.

The week was over and done and Joe was part of your past now.

Except he fucking wasn’t, was he?

You’d forgotten there was a whole airport you needed to get out of before you'd actually part ways, and you only realised that Joe would still be in your vicinity when you looked up from your phone at the baggage claim carousel and looked him right in the eye. He was stood on the other side, the very end of the round all the checked luggage made before it’d disappear and loop back again.

You couldn’t help a smile. This is where you fucked up a week ago. At the baggage claim. You’d grabbed Joe’s suitcase and he’d grabbed yours and now, here you were. Second try. Were going to get it right this time.

Joe returned your smile and it was cute. He grew bashful and looked at his feet before biting into his lip and turning himself back into waiting-man-by-baggage-carousel, face serious and a little tired from the flight. He looked just like the business man you thought he was before you’d even met him. All stern, all posh, looking out for his suitcase, just like you were looking out for yours.

It took a second for you to spot your suitcase.

When you did, your body immediately jolted into action, but a loud clearing of someone's throat stopped you.

Joe.

You looked over and saw him look directly at you, eyebrows raised slightly, slowly shaking his head no.

Confusion.

What?

But... you listened.

Let your own suitcase pass you by, and you saw something change in Joe's expression. Something a little victorious. Something a little too glad, which he tried to hide, about you not just taking what was yours and leaving the area with it.

You watched as your suitcase looped around and... no fucking way. He wouldn't. He fucking wouldn't.

Except he would.

And then, he did.

Joe took your suitcase from the rubber belt and put it down beside him. Gave you a shit eating grin when he extended the telescopic handle with loud clicks and then just... walked off with it.

Was that his? Had you just made the same dumb mistake and had you nearly reached for Joe’s suitcase again?

You looked, saw the other suitcase come your way and were quick to take it. Checked it.

No.

This one wasn’t yours. This was Joe’s.

That little shit.

Your week together wasn’t just going to be your week together, and Joe had to make sure of it. He went about it a little drastically, sure, but in his defence, when he’d thought up the idea of taking your suitcase home instead of his own, part of the plan wasn’t that you’d actually see him do it.

You were meant to just find Joe’s suitcase and not see that it wasn’t yours until you’d get home.

Maybe this was better though.

Maybe this said, “You’re mine.” more.

Maybe this said, “You were mine the moment I saw you dressed in my clothes.” more.

Something possessive and greedy about all of it, but Joe didn’t care.

He was just helping.

And he truly had helped you!

Helped in all the ways he knew how.

Just now was the time for Joe to help himself. And so he did. Joe helped himself when he signaled for you to leave your suitcase be. Helped himself when he smirked across the carousel and turned on his heel, your suitcase rolling behind him. Helped himself when he got into a taxi and waited until it got onto the road before he texted,

“Your suitcase”

Referring back to the first words you'd said to him on that weird day at the airport.

You received the message just as you stepped out of the airport yourself and couldn’t help the way you wanted to squeeze Joe’s face in both your hands, really dig your non-existent finger nails into his cheeks because he was being such an idiot. You didn't know if you wanted to scold him or tell him you loved him for the cheesiest fucking thing you'd ever see someone do.

You knew the perfect reply though.

Joe eagerly awaited your message, was hoping he was going to get what he wanted and, yes, fuck fucking yes, his grin stretched from ear to ear when he did.

“Your jacket” the end

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frogers, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @notverywise, @paola-carter, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella

taglist currently full, sorry

[fantomette22]

GIRL HELP, now we are both in the club of people whose caring for Miquella reached its FULL form because of the DLC hfgfjgdbh I think what I've lacked this whole time was a coherent idea on what his imperfections and flaws were! Because "well you see Bewitching Branch is kinda fucked up concept" didn't give me enough. And I feel like I've struck gold with the whole thing of him not being able to accept Radahn's character development and nature as a warrior. It is soooooo wrong and reminded me of one of the ways to look at Gehrman.

It took me a few weeks but finally me 🤝 you at having the time of our fandom lives with Miquella now

I KNOW RIGHT?!?!?! Yeah it's quite crazy. We took our sweet time but here we are! 🤝

I mean maybe I wasn't way too much invest in elden ring because of the huge bloodborne brain rot taking all my time too 😂 But also Elden Ring is really a lot to digest! You and I really like details and to care about every lil guys! In Bloodborne even if there's lot of characters it stays limited while in Elden Ring it's just SO enormous O_O there's too much and yeah I didn't got that savage brain rot yet while just playing the game a year ago+

And I knew dlc was coming so I guess I didn't get too much invested either? Or at least it was inconsciently.

So yes during and after the dlc and after digesting everything I somehow really learn like Miquella! We know way more now and idk but it's even more interesting now!

Before dlc I saw him like : poor lil guy tried smt to become a god (pls don't it's gonna be bad) screw up really big time & he's dead now 😔 you tried your best... he was too good for this world rip

But now it's more develop! there's actually a following to that! he didn't just fail big time! for now😰

I said a few weeks ago I was gonna wait to finish the dlc and then speak about Miquella and what I think of everything. Well maybe I will do a separate post later but I think it's finally time.

So let's dive in (warning spoilers shadow of the Erdtree DLC)

I know it's a bit of mess between people thinking "I was right he's the ultimate evil!!! He's like Griffith!" (what 💀)"and people being very mad at other or distraught by it bc now this get shown into their face while they were just happy with Miquella being a kind lil guy, to good or pure for this world... I want to believe many people are actually very middle ground on this but hm yeah smt it's not good and quite extreme.

But if that can help (at least I will try here ) with everything we got I might have an interpretation that I hope, could help out a few people. I can't say I'm right, I'm probably far from it but I appreciate what I deduced and put together a lot! (in my head but still) It made me really like and invest more in Miquella character now! And it make me at peace with what the dlc brought to the table. I can accept that more well now. That made everything have more sense and made Miquella really have a bittersweet/tragic path & ending. And I am ok with that and I think others could be as well.

I like Miquella I think he was mostly good, the kindest between this darker lands. But he needed to changed, to grow to succeed in his goals right? Because he got stuck. But by growing up, discarding parts of himself to be a "better version" of himself that would succeed & become a god is what eventually doomed him in the end :

Miquella discarding part of himself tragedy.

This is just so sad and tragic. But it might be oblivious. He wasn't "strong enough" in his current position/eternal childhood etc So he probably thought that make the sacrifice to become a god would succeed in the end. A necessary sacrifice...that he would be stronger able to finally obtain his goals... But by doing that he loose everything that made him himself... without realising it... he abandoned everything. And the more he abandoned, the more he didn't realised he was loosing himself what he cared about... and how it was a mistake. (I suppose that Marika might have gone through the same thing now...)

Trina realised it at some point. That it was wrong,t hat it wouldn't work anyway perhaps. Is it really worth it? Is it really gonna work? Probably not... But it's too late to go back now. She knew Miquella before everything would probably not approve of what he became... of the dangerosity of what he could be...

That just... sorry it's just so tragic I don't know how to express it sadden me so much...

Bewitching people :

We already knew that he somehow "bewitch people" but it wasn't very explained in base game and really up to interpretations. Now we know more. And it sparks a lot of things...

I completely agree that you know, half mind control people and changed people thoughts and individuality, personality etc hm it's bad. it's no good to control masses. BUT but, I can kinda understand why Miquella did it! And I'm gonna try to explain that now.

Ok, imagine you're Miquella. You're trying to get people to join your cause. Of course like for exemple the crab hunter or farmer have other things to do than join your cause so sure you let them be. But then imagine you talk with smn and then they just hate you and is going to say shit to everyone about you and then they're gonna try kick your ass. Wouldn't it be better, even if that's bad on paper, to bewitching them? make allies your enemies?

You can't reason with some people at time even if you try everything, sadly. You can either go away or fight or ask a competent authority to stop them. But if you had a way for them to magically stop wanting to harm you and become more friendly / on your side wouldn't you use it?

Like it's bad but I can understand why Miq did it. But of course forcing people who were neutral bc you think "you're better" is hm... not great too... but it's not clear how much it happened and what went though he's mind. He probably thought it was a good thing. But no but can we blame him for trying to have better world?

And it's still not clear how his mind age but I do think he still have lot of quality/default of what any child mind have. He probably didn't see the wrong of everyone becoming allies and use kindness not violence to it. A child mind (mostly) is innocence, optimistic etc I do think he lost a lot by discarding parts but it has it's backsides. An adult would be more incline to find solution and act accordingly to treat but loose a lot of "childhood good sides" as well. it's quite complicated but nothing is perfect in this. You wanna agin smt you loose another you can't have everything and life's not black & white.

Also about Mogh. Yes he's not fuck up like that! But I understand why Miq bewitching him. Hm Mohg, maybe would have just kill Miquella to get his amazing blood for whatever purpose with the formless mother anyway. So of course Miquella did that to try to gain a potential ally that in other case is very dangerous for him. But still I think Miquella had to improvise after Mogh took him and then when the cocoon didn't work. Yeah I still think Mogh has a LOT of issues. He's not a saint and I don't think it went well with Miquella's plan to have been taken by him.

Radahn thoughts:

I mean I'm still a bit like : wu wut what but why??!!?!? confusion

But it's a bit better now XD I swear if the devs originally had another idea I'm gonna be mad! But it can maybe made a bit of sense. I don't really have much thoughts bc I'm still confuse about it but I think understand the point.

Radahn, when younger, was probably all the noble qualities that had Godfrey.

And Miq was probably like : When Godfrey was Elden Lord it was the golden age everything was great! Nothing was wrong! The lands between had stability. Radahn have the potentiel to be like Godfrey!

Also Radahn : Let's conquer and make war like lord Godrey!!!!!!!!!!!

I mean yeah everything was great between stability and war 😅 so jkefjf help like I can understand ou need smn to fight of ennemies just in case but Miquella that's not gonna work. Like at some point there's pb. Like who you consider anomy.. should you reprimand everyone?? Like Marika and her cycle of violence?! dzbkdsfbhkbhkld

Also I wonder if the great runes didn't made many demigods "change" as well. It gave them more power and maybe it screw their mind too. (And when Miquella great runes break the bewitching spells stop so..... before he got the runes maybe he never used that. And maybe that's why Radahn changed so much too) Power really does change people hm?

So anyway sorry idk if I succeed to organise everything coherently XD I tried. So yes I think Miquella is nuanced but was mostly good because of many conditions and he tried to fix everything but loses everything in the end... by discarding who he really was... a necessary sacrifice, that would ultimately fail...

I got very emotional after beating the final boss and going one last time to Trina. I really cried a lot. Because it's freaking sad. All the sacrifices in vain... they deserved so much but the world was cruel.

And even if we did nothing. What change? Nothing. He never came back in the lands between if we finish the main game. Did you abandoned everything Miquella? Did it not work out? Or like should we blame the poor devs. Idk it's very confusing now. The lands between still a mess, the lands of shadow too. He never came back...

The only ray of hope is us, the tarnished to try to make a better world for everyone. The one they couldn't make themselves...

(Ok so hope make sense 😅 and maybe it will put everything in a new light for people and give them a hand! I got way more invested and happy! Even if that's sad. I started to imaging little story and headcanons about his childhood I would never have before... it's confusing but if I am right the devs succeed! good job)

[lemonlamblaura]

My Husband is the God of Pestilence - chapter 26

Sorry for the wait for this chapter, everyone 🩷

The following week was intense and miserable for Heket. Shamura placed her in a small room by herself with nothing but a small futon to sleep on. No food could hope to satisfy her aching stomach. She was given only bread and water to keep her alive. The first time she was given her daily portion, she screamed at Shamura furiously, but they would not give her more.

"There is nothing I can give you to make it stop," they said patiently. "The only thing we can do is to wait for this to pass. If the crown deems you worthy of it, it will allow you to eat again."

"FUCK OFF!" she screamed at them as they calmly walked away.

She felt like she was going insane - like the torture would never end. Hours turned into days, blending together into a huge horrific mess.

And, suddenly, it was over.

On the eighth day, not long after she had voraciously wolfed down her bread and water, she realized she was not nearly so hungry anymore. She could actually think about something other than food now.

The whole week seemed like a blur, a nightmare she would rather not revisit. She couldn't remember much of anything aside from wanting it all to be over. There was a nasty bruise on her arm surrounded by teeth marks. Had she done this to herself? When she approached the stone door of her room, she noticed grooves in the stone resembling claw marks. Her nails were chipped and ragged, a bit of blood around the quick. Apparently she had been desperate to get out.

"Hello?" She knocked on the door.

A voice on the other side answered, "how are you feeling?"

"Better, I think." She wasn't totally sure, but at least her mind was a little clearer now. "I need to talk to the big purple spider."

She heard the same voice speak to someone else: "go get Lord Shamura."

Minutes later the spider arrived, and Heket was released from her prison. They examined her with a critical look, from head to toe. "You are coherent?"

"I think so."

"Then come. I have a proper meal awaiting you, and we can discuss your future."

They led her to their study, where a small meal was laid out on a placemat upon their desk with a big glass of water, bigger than the ones she had received in the past week. She downed it instantly; she couldn't believe how thirsty she was.

"You have lost an unnatural amount of weight in a short amount of time, so you must not eat much yet in order not to shock your body. Eat slowly. You will not receive more until later."

"Why did you starve me at all?" Heket demanded, foregoing the fork and knife provided and picking up the small steak provided with her bare hands.

"It was not up to me. You bear the Yellow Crown, which controls the domain of famine. You would have continued to starve no matter how much you were given."

"Why?"

"When a crown believes it has chosen a worthy bearer, it conducts a test to prove you are capable of weilding it. You have survived its test. Clearly you have a strong will. Weaker beings would have perished or lost their minds."

Heket remembered biting the bartender when he refused to give her more food, and the bruise on her arm. "So, what happens now?"

"Now you must undergo training in order to harness your crown's power and ascend to godhood."

She paused mid-chew. Surely she must have misheard them. How could she be a god just by wearing a hat? "When you say "godhood"... will I be able to do anything I want?"

Shamura hid their satisfaction. She is strong and wants power. With enough training she could kill other gods with ease. Still, I sense an incredible independence within, which could be detrimental. I must find some way to make her dependant on me, yet not so much that she cannot make her own decisions. She is not desperate for reassurance and validation the way Kallamar is. I cannot be too doting. "What is it that you desire?"

"Revenge," she answered immediately, "on those who killed my father and started my family's downfall and left me alone."

Family. A desire for closeness and loyalty above all else. That was the answer. "Then you shall have it. And know this, sister: from this moment on, you shall never be alone. Your family, and your crown, is here for you."

*

It was another week before Heket asked to meet her brothers.

Narinder was indifferent. Shamura had let him know about the new goddess the moment she arrived at their temple. He played polite, knowing having her on their side would be beneficial. Heket left impressed at Narinder's power and command of his following.

The visit to Kallamar's temple had an awkward beginning. Kallamar stared down at her in shock as Shamura explained, while Lilybell's shock was for a very different reason. Finally, there was a new immortal in her life - someone she didn't have to worry about dying anytime soon. She actually found herself excited for the first time in a long while. However, with that excitement came nervousness as well. With her furrowed brow and thin, pursed lips, Heket seemed like the type to take things very seriously. Lilybell couldn't afford to get too carried away and put the other woman off. She couldn't screw this up... she wouldn't get another chance.

Before Kallamar could say anything, Lilybell approached the frog and made a slow, graceful curtsy. "I bid you welcome to my husband's temple. My name is Lilybell, and I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Heket."

Heket's face was unreadable as she stared back. After a moment, she broke eye contact and reached up to scratch her cheek uncomfortably. "Thank you."

I came on too strong! Lilybell stepped back, trying to give Heket space, her heart pounding in her ears. "Please forgive me. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable."

"You did nothing of the sort, my darling," Kallamar declared, coming to Lilybell's rescue. "Heket will need to get used to being spoken to like this." He tried to sound as if he was not worried and, truth be told, scared. "Shamura, may I speak to you privately while Lilybell shows Heket the temple?"

They were gone quickly, and the women headed off in the other direction. "I apologize for the mess," said Lilybell. "We are currently working on a new temple to replace the old one."

"It looks very much like Shamura's," Heket noted.

"Yes, Kallamar styled it after theirs. But this new temple will be an entirely new design, which he is quite proud of. I cannot wait until we begin decorating, personally. Are you at all cold? I am afraid my wool sometimes blinds me to temperature, and I recall reading that Anura can be quite a warm climate."

"I'm fine."

Heket's standoffishness made Lilybell uneasy. She had no idea how much talking was too much, or if she was annoying the frog. No matter how much she explained or described, Heket still replied shortly, almost distracted. When they made a full round of the temple and the other gods were still nowhere to be seen, Lilybell gestured towards the dining room, her last resort. "Shall we have a short break until Kallamar and Shamura return?"

The two soon were treated to a hot meal of baked fish, marinated vegetables and juice. Heket finished her plate in only a few minutes while Lilybell ate slowly, remembering to take small bites and sit with her back straight against the chair as she was trained to do centuries ago.

I hope Kallamar comes back soon, Lilybell thought, nervously glancing in Heket's direction. I don't think she likes me very much.

"Are you always so dainty, or is that how your husband likes it?" Heket asked suddenly, using her fork to pick her teeth.

Lilybell nearly choked in surprise. After a small gulp of juice, she cleared her throat. "I beg your pardon?"

"I hate prissy little princesses who've clearly never worked a day in their life. But I feel like you're putting on a show, like you're trying too hard."

"I... it was my choice to become more ladylike. I did not grow up this way. I grew up poor in a tiny village. My dear friend Baalzebub taught me good manners, and I wanted to be a credit to Kallamar, to be a proper wife for him."

"So you are putting on a show. If you had to change yourself to be worthy of your husband, then maybe you weren't meant to be together. What's the point of being with someone if you can't be yourself?"

"I am myself," Lilybell said sharply, becoming more agitated by the second. "Like I said, it was my choice to be this way."

"Hmm. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Now she was incensed. She put her napkin neatly beside her unfinished plate and stood up to leave. "Please excuse me. I have some matters that need attending to."

Heket barely batted an eye, pulling the plate towards her and continuing where Lilybell left off.

*

"What do you mean she knows everything?!" Kallamar cried, jumping out of his seat.

"Calm yourself. It was beneficial for her to know. I have no doubt she will serve us well and help us in taking down the other gods."

"How can you be so sure? How do you know she will not turn against us? And how can you be so candid with her when you and Narinder went behind my back and murdered the others for years without my knowing?"

"You would have never agreed if I had not moved your hand for you. Heket is different. She has no qualms about death. Which brings me to my other reason for coming here today..."

Kallamar had a feeling he knew where this was going, sitting back down while a burning feeling rose in his throat. It always amazed him (in the worst way) how Shamura could have so little confidence in him, and yet ask such big things of him at the same time.

"I have decided it is time for Falzeph, god of wind and storms, to meet their end."

Kallamar knew all about the stories of Falzeph, how they resided at the top of the tallest mountain in the region and killed any who came close to them. They were one of the few gods that did not reside in their own temple, and had no immediate followers or disciples. "You can't possibly expect me to face them on my own!"

"Certainly not. Narinder will assist you."

A cold chill ran down Kallamar's spine. He hadn't met with Narinder for decades, and never killed a god with him. Not much had changed between them in 200 years. Narinder still enjoyed tormenting him, and Kallamar loathed to be in the cat's presence. "But, why not you, sibling?"

Shamura drew aside their cloak to reveal a long deep wound across their chest. It looked fresh and was healing slowly. "The goddess of fire does not give up easily," they said calmly, setting their cloak back properly. "I will not hear any objections. When Narinder is set on a mission, nothing can stop him. But a foe such as Falzeph will require backup. In the best case scenario, you will hardly have to draw your weapon."

That put Kallamar's mind at ease slightly. Still, it was only the best case scenario. He didn't want to think about the worst case.

"Come, Heket has had long enough to play." Shamura stood, a little shakily, and Kallamar was suddenly reminded of how old they were. "Narinder shall meet with you in the morning, so be sure to rest so you will be at full strength."

"Fine," said Kallamar flatly, full of dread. The gods were surprised to find Heket leaning on the wall beside Kallamar's study. Kallamar looked around for his wife, and not seeing her, said to Heket, "where is Lilybell?"

"She had some things to see to," Heket replied, pushing herself off the wall. "If you're done with Shamura, I want to talk to you next."

Kallamar was taken aback, but he let her inside while Shamura waited patiently for her in the corridor. Heket marched up the staircase attached to his desk with her head held high, as if she were in charge. Kallamar was a little intimidated, but he also admired her strong character. When Shamura had first taken him under their wing he was timid and anxious all the time. He knew he could never find it in himself to behave the way Heket did.

"Shamura says you have been a god for two hundred years. Is this true?" She demanded.

"Yes," said Kallamar, feeling nervous.

"They intend to train me to use my crown, but I feel if I'm going to be a strong god, I will need more than just their guidance. I feel like I can learn things from you as well as them. I need you to train me too."

Kallamar blinked. He didn't know what he was expecting, but it certainly was not this. "But, I'm sure that Shamura will be a marvelous teacher. Besides, as they trained me as well, I'm certain the most I could do is parrot them."

"In my opinion, the more experience I have, the better. From what I've seen of your cult compared to Shamura's, it seems like you have a few differences between you. You don't control your following the way Shamura does. They demand authority, while you strongly suggest it instead. You control your following with displays of wealth rather than brute force. You have a softer style of leadership."

"I'm not sure how to take that," Kallamar frowned. He leaned in closer to her and whispered, "Shamura has told you about the other gods? About their plans for them?"

"Yes."

"And you have no issue regarding that?"

"It's either join Shamura or be killed, isn't it? And I'm not going to have my head on the chopping block. Besides, I have my own reasons for becoming powerful. Now are you going to train me or not?"

*

Kallamar found Lilybell in the bedroom not long after he and Heket had finished speaking. She was sitting in front of the fireplace reading a worn old book. Even from a side angle, Kallamar could see her brows were furrowed. Something was clearly bothering her. She never looked like that unless she was seriously cross.

"Here you are," Kallamar said gently, sitting down beside her. She didn't turn to look at him, and he could tell her jaw was clenched. "Has Alinor upset you again?"

His voice calmed her somewhat. She could always relax and drop her refined act when it was just the two of them. She sighed, closing her book. "No. It's just... your new sister is very rude."

Kallamar's eyebrow raised sharply. "What has she done?"

"She saw through me and called me out. It just put me in a had mood, that's all. Most people don't realize what I'm doing, and if they do they don't say anything. But the way she went on about it! She implied that I had only changed for you without knowing anything about me or us. She's very opinionated, I suppose."

The squid tensed a little. Learning that the two girls hadn't got on well wouldn't make this any easier. "I see. I'm afraid this might make things a bit awkward..."

"Why?"

"Well, she insisted that I train her as well as Shamura. She also requested a room set up for her here, in case she needs to spend more time with me."

Lilybell gawked at him before putting her face in her hands. "Great..."

"Let me assure you, darling, I will speak to her and clear up this whole mess. I will not have her disrespect you while she stays here." He put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "Family is family, but no one is more important to me than you are."

That made Lilybell smile, and she leaned up to give her husband a kiss. "Thank you, Kally."

"Darling, let's go to our meadow tomorrow night. We haven't been there in some time." He would need something to look forward to after what was sure to be an intense battle.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

Lilybell read aloud for him as they snuggled, and Kallamar forgot his worries, if only for a short while.

[be-jargogled]

EOM AU Part 3

So! Finally it's time to describe the EOM crew! I hope this is coherent enough, and don't expect realistic eye colors because if you think I'm going to deprive marius of red eyes you're wrong

Jericho: In this au Jericho is tall and skinny, not completely malnourished persay, but you could see his ribs if he removed his shirt. Jericho in this au is slightly tan, not exactly baby faced but has the quality of someone you have to double take for if they're an adult or not. He has so many scars on his body and always seems to have at least one bruise at any given time. I'd say that Jericho's hair is messy and matted, somewhere between a mullet and a wolf cut, and is an almost brown but technically still dirty blonde. His eyes are between brown and hazel. He stands at about 6'3 and is currently 22.

Lethica: One of the more humanoid ones so not many changes: she is a pale caramel color, like she has melanin but doesn't go outside much. Otherwise I'd say she looks similar to how she does in canon. Stands at 5'10 and is 23.

Farryn: Once again, one of the more humanoid ones, so not much change. Her eyes are more of a brown so dark they look black, and she unfortunately loses her satyrn features, but otherwise not much changes. Stands at 4'11 and is 22.

Yorgrim: I thought about this one a little, I'd place him at the darker side of coffee brown in terms of skin tone. He has messy, short, black hair and green eyes too. Still very muscular and still walks with a hunch, not a lot of change here. Stands at 6'5 and is 23.

Marius: It's hard to describe him as anything but what he looks like in canon, in fact i'd say he looks exactly as he does in canon but with less scars and less muscle as this Marius has not studied the blade. Stands at 6'0 and is 23.

Briggsy: Finally, a challenge, where do I start with our dear captain. He's short and stocky, paler than most of the tropics people, but has a defining honey brown glaze to his skin if that makes sense. He isn't fat by any means, but compared to the rest of the cast he has less defined muscle even if he's still strong and fast, more of an oval or rectangle than a trapezoid. He has a lot of thin scars on his skin from scratching. Taking inspiration from "Midnight Crew" by Lilinbee, Briggsy here has a skin condition, only this time its a severe form of eczema. Briggsy has medium length dark brown hair that he keeps in a low ponytail, in general I'd describe him as a hairy man, his chest, his arms, his legs, he just kinda lets it do what it wants, plus it kinda hides the scars and itchy rashes sometimes. After a long debate I'm giving him blue eyes. Stands at 5'4 and is 22.

Tell me if I'm unclear or if I forgot anything, hope you enjoy my ramblings nonetheless. Feel free to theorize about why our campers are here for at Camp Druskenvald, because I am a horrible person and have added more trauma to their stories than needed probably lmao

[visarcana]

Why is Van being such an ass in ch14

Pfft is this a start of a new series? Cause I'm sure we could analyze other chapters from the very same angle. Anyway, I think in ch14, the readers' displeasure with Van reached its peak (and that is to say something, with what came next). I recently reposted chapter 14 to AO3, so I guess it came back to me. And because I have great readers who ask questions that I might not have even consciously considered while writing, I synthetized some semi-coherent explanations out of several direct replies, that will summarize here.

As a reminder, this is a chapter where I had Van escape with Hitomi, trying to lure the Zaibach unit away from practically defenseless Fanelia. As a result, they are stuck on their "get-along guymelef" (idc I'll use it as much as I can lol) that forces them physically close and, maybe even more importantly, they are stuck alone together for the first time. Expectations are high but the conversation once again doesn't go as people would have wished for.

I think what the readers saw as the most abusive this chapter was the moment when Van says "he certainly didn't call her back". Which is kind of a brutal statement that sounds like he either wants to hurt her or has no feelings for her. I get that. But it's not a conversation between a sequel type VH.

Please remember that this is not a continuation after ep 26 where we have the relationship established between them in terms that, "I'll be there when you need me". In my fic, they parted way before that, before any realization, any confession and basically with no love on the table there, not yet. Which is why, they still try to act all rational and casual around each other, like this is the question of practical matters, not of heart. Hitomi herself insists there has to be an objective reason why she's back (as if there were no feelings involved) and she herself tells Van, "I certainly did not wish myself back" back in ch 4. They both are doing more or less the same thing. This is in fact continuation of their talk in ch 4.

And in a way, this scene is analogous to the series scene where they fly to meet Folken in Fanelia, with the way Hitomi initiates conversation, with Van shutting her attempts down and his resignation about her and Allen. And it is Van here as well who admits that there could be feelings involved, because there was Allen, too, whom he knows she had feelings for (unlike for him). Another hint that may have been easy to miss, in ch 8, when Van comes to pick Millerna to the garden, he sees that Hitomi had been out there with Allen. So, even if it was about feelings, who would she be more likely to respond to?

But she poses the question not as "Did you call me because you missed me?" but as "Did you call me because you wanted to use me in the war again, even if you know I hated it?" Of course he must refute that part, at least, if he has grown any since the barn scene. It IS some sort of growth, although not one the VH stans would hope for, I get it. The choice of words and tone is very UNFORTUNATE ofc but it's Van we're talking about and moreover, his pride must have been hurt by that question not a bit. He would already be on edge because all that has been happening. And obviously, I'm still very secretive about his other feelings at this point, hah. I hope the explanation (there is one) of why he's like that will make these moments make sense in retrospect.

As said, this isn't even a romantic conversation for Van. But it isn't even for Hitomi at first, when she literally asks him if he called her back, she is being pragmatic, thinking about their next course of action. But this must kinda be a realization moment for her, too, because she is emotionally affected beyond her current understanding. She started a casual enough conversation about very pragmatic things and suddenly she's on the verge of crying because he DENIED summoning her to use her in the war, which she hated in the first place? Still, she's at least brave enough to even start such conversation. I respect that a lot tbh! As she explains herself (soon in the fic), she just "has to speak up" in situations, and yes, it gets her into all sort of trouble, but it also makes her build friendships rather quickly.

I guess that's all wanted to say about it for now, without revealing some plot points. Hope you don't mind another post just related to the old chapters but tbh, as I go through them reposting, I feel like it may be a last chance to give explanations like this before moving on and yeah, eventually revealing the secrets, haha. I'm not posting these in the tag and I think my followers would be used to this kind of content by now. Thinking about these also gets me into writing mood. If there is something I can answer like this now or in the future, just lmk!

[rawliverandgoronspice]

hey! do you have any thoughts on demise as a looser/more fluid/symbolic/metaphorical figure in the context of the story of the series- like thoughts on what he represents, and stuff like what his curse could mean thematically rather than the more essentialistic absolutistic "literal satan" interpretation that most of the (at least western) audience seems to take?

i know he may be somewhat contentious as a choice introduced by the writers especially considering from an outside perspective what he kind of did to the majority of fandom analysis and discourse, but i've been thinking about how it's quite possible the writers had a more paganistic approach to what it means to be a deity and how demise doesn't even really have a NAME so much as he is supposed to be some sort of manifestation/personification of the concept of demise, and maybe also of hatred, and also i don't know, like, what the point of that hatred is or why there has to be demise/what implications there could be of this worldbuilding

hope that was coherent enough to make sense of anything i just said but yeah i was just curious if you do!

Heyy sorry never replied, replying now!! Thanks for the ask!

Yeah it's exactly how I'm taking Demise, and I think what you mention connects more to what little I know and understand of shintoism.

In French, Demise has an absurdly long name and is basically called "The Avatar of the Void", which I think is... interesting? It makes me extremely curious as to how Demise is called in original japanese --because to me, "Void" is about the absence of things more than their destruction. It's about the absence, not the inevitability of things crumbling down that comes with Demise. I don't know which of these concepts are the closest to the original vision (if it's Void rather than Demise I think it recontextualizes everything we thought we know about this world and characters, but in my opinion it feels too incoherent with the rest of the world, so my guess is that it was a poorly thought-out translation --but I might be wrong!), but to me it's all in the title: Demise. The curse is that every golden era must end with a reckoning.

I think the curse is extremely compelling in that mythological sense, the way Demeter and Persephone's tale is about the joy and pain of passing seasons; it's the given cause for this world's fate as it is condemned to rise and die continuously; and that their eternal, bright future will always be opposed. To be honest, I'm not even sure it's a *bad* thing. Conflict is not only inevitable, it needs to rise to the surface instead of being suppressed to ensure things do not remain stagnant and shortcomings are being acknowledged and addressed --which is also partially why the suggestion of TotK's golden forever after really doesn't sit right with me, especially since nothing was learned and nothing truly changed in the course of its runtime.

I think the curse sucks when people think it means that Ganondorf is a generic evil demon man without motive of his own. It especially grinds my nerves since I somehow never hear this argument being made for *any* other villain in the franchise. I know they look alike the most (and TotK didn't help matters here), but I never *ever* saw people arguing that Vaati doesn't have motive, for example. Or Majora. Or Zant. Or even literal nothing characters like Bellum, who by all means looks more like a primal demonic evil acting on instinct than anyone else. Somehow, we get to assume they have internal motives that, while obviously wicked and self-serving, are their own! But somehow, Ganondorf, the actual main antagonist of his series with the most amount of games hinting at his backstory and internal moral code, gets flattened as an evil puppet with no internal life whatsoever. It's genuinely bizarre.

Anyway sorry sorry! Thanks again for the ask!

[westcrescent]

 𝐃𝐀𝐘: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ( &. ft. @yyiranz ) 

Ruyue awoke with a start, her eyes fluttering open to a dim, heavy gloom. Her head throbbed with a dull ache, and her body felt weighed down by the coarse, scratchy straws she lay upon. The remnants of a dream— or was it a nightmare? The only light a faint, flickering glow that seeped through a barred window high on one wall.

As she slowly came to her senses, she tried to piece together her surroundings. The cell she found herself in was small and grimy, its walls were moldy and damp. There was no sign of comfort or warmth, only the cold, hard reality of captivity.

Ruyue’s thoughts were clouded and fragmented, and she struggled to recall any coherent memories. "Who am I?" her voice trembling as she spoke aloud, though no one was there to hear her.

She tried to stand, her legs feeling weak and unsteady beneath her. The effort made her head spin, and she grasped the wall for support, her fingers scraping against the rough surface. As she looked down at her clothes, she noticed they were tattered and stained, a far cry from the elegant robes she remembered— or at least thought she remembered.

The void’s grip seemed to have left more than physical scars; it had stolen her sense of self.

Ruyue was desperately trying to escape, using a rusty shard she found to pry at the bars of her cell. Just as hope began to fade, the cell door groaned open. Two rough-looking guards entered, their presence intimidating. They wore dirty, mismatched armors, they weren't like real guards. Without a word, one of them grabbed Ruyue by the throat, his grip like iron as he yanked her up against the bars. “Where do you think you're going, little fairy?" Fairy..? Am I a fairy..?

Her head started throbbing again the more she thinks.

The guards snickers at Ruyue's helpless expression, their conversation adding to her mounting confusion and fear. “She's awake and ready for the auction. The tribes are expecting a good show this week. She’ll fetch a high price."

The word 'Fairy' still seemed foreign and strange to her. Her mind raced, trying to piece together why they would call her that. She was not a fairy, but perhaps they had mistaken her for one. The magical dagger she had brought along might have hinted at some form of power, and they could have sensed it. In their eyes, that might have been enough to label her as a fairy.

Now.. where's the dagger?

She remembered the dagger and just the dagger, she doesn't know what significance it holds for her but she wanted it back. It must be something important.

The guards dragged Ruyue from her cell, their rough hands gripping her arms tightly. As they approached the auction area, the sounds of a bustling crowd grew louder, in the center of the room was a stage, where various captives and curiosities were being paraded and sold.

Ruyue’s eyes darted around, trying to take in the scene, but the dim light and the crowd of people made it difficult to focus. The harsh light from above illuminated her ragged clothes and disheveled appearance, making her feel exposed and vulnerable. The crowd’s gaze was intense and unsettling, their eyes following her every move with a mix of curiosity and greed.

What am I even doing here?

[kollector-of-stims]

hello i wasn't sure how to message you on this. but euphoria, fast heart rate and stiming more can be concerning. maybe you just need to go down a bit on the dose. but euphoria means the dose might be to high or you have another co occurring disorder. i hope it has gone away but please tell someone because its not normal for a regular dose. you should feel like u are able to do things not pushed as well, almost like you feel it does nothing but enough where u can function. usually they start on smaller doses because a small effect can do a big amount. its not well you have sever adhd so you need a higher dose. i'm not trying to gate keep or anything i just have known people with these experiences and wanted to let you know.

Oh sorry that I just now saw this! It's weird because I've been taking this higher dose for a few days and mood-wise I dont feel AS euphoric, but moreso like...less anxious? Also noticed that these side effects are more prominent if I take it on an empty stomach and they're more suppressed if I take it with food. Maybe taking it with food is a better way for me to take it, but I know for sure that sometime next week I have an appointment and my plan was to go down 5mg. Mainly to save money but also to adjust my dose as needed depending on the day.

Yesterday I tried to see if I could go without it, but eventually took it because I couldn't eat due to smell sensitivity and it helped like...calm me and took my mind off thoughts of smell. I think this proves this is definitely the med for me, especially since it also doesnt affect my sleep and does still give motivation. Currently worried that my words right now may not sound coherent because I just woke up, had taken one an hour ago and fell back asleep afterwards, and now I'm up again and still feel like I could sleep. It calms my racing thoughts.

Uhh so basically this version is different from another generic I had because these pills from this manufacturer dissolve better and therefore basically may act like a higher dose? Since the others I tried probably didnt absorb as well and therefore werent as strong. Taking this one with food seems to be the best idea in this case then, or at least until I talk to my doc. Yeah?

I also didnt mention that around two and a half weeks ago, I got a few tests done and I was diagnosed with like 4 different vitamin deficiencies and an infection, and with my generic at the time, I legit couldnt even get out of bed without 15mgs. A pill and a half. So we were like "ok, 15mgs is my dose".

Now though as my vitamin levels are rising with my supplements, maybe it would make sense to go back down, especially if this different brand acts stronger. At least if I use this same brand. So 10mg of wilshire if I get that or 15mg if I get teva (the first brand I used). This...cant really be done consistently though because of how I'm never guaranteed to get a specific manufacturer with controlled substances like these. Unless my doctor let's me keep my current paper rx forms for 15mg AND gives me some with 10mgs. But then I'm scared of things like, I dunno, legal trouble? Because it feels like I'm trying to hoard, but I just want to make sure I dont run out of medicine. But THEN I also feel like I come off as a drug addict😭

I just want to get my medicine consistently because I need it to function and be productive, but since it's got so much potential for abuse and can be dangerous, you just cant get it as easily and apparently people with more power dont think we all need medicine to be normal people ig.

ANYWAY LOL I DIDNT MEAN TO VENT LIKE THIS TO YOU IM SORRY- But yeah I'll try 10mg wilshire when I can. For now I'll take my 15's with food if I feel like they're too strong. Vitamin deficiency made me feel weak and fatigued, but now that I'm not as unwell? A smaller dose does make sense to me. For your peace of mind at least, euphoria, fast heart, and stimming urges have gone down some since my last post. And when I thought my lower dose had caused those, my heart test showed my heart was fine and I'm sure the heart stuff is the biggest deal.

I'll figure this all out and itll work somehow. Thank you for telling me and caring enough to tell me, and I'm sorry this got so long 😩

[wiltkingart]

i hope im not bothering you with this question but i have to say your art style is absolutely MESMERIZING i could study it all day. i was wondering- when you want to draw a couple of characters, lets say andreil, do you visualize them in your head in your art style, or does it take time to translate the way you would like to draw them manually while drawing? (i don't know if my question is coherent enough sorry,,)

thank you! i dont visualize anything in my art style tbh. on the apple visualization scale im pretty mid, and i struggle with picturing detailed faces especially, so it's less of a translation and more of a conjuring. the faces are already in the canvas and its my job to carve them out or whatever. thats how i see it at least! because when i read i picture a basic/blurry amalgamations of passably-human traits, which leaves a lot of wiggle room to map out the details when i draw. hope that makes sense - thanks for the interesting question!

[w1f1n1ghtm4r3]

kyushumi and change

okay uh. not sure about the coherency of this post but i will try my best. this is just me being like "oops i picked butterfly imagery for my kyushumi age up redesigns to match their vs and to lean into the fae theme a bit more but it also fits their stories incredibly well"

but first i need to actually show those redesigns because i never did. because i was saving them until i did the rest of the units and then i never got there. oops. look at my butterflies now

the general idea was giving them a more cohesive theme with their outfits (a more elegant style plus butterflies) while having a distinct set of colors fitting to each of them. instead of their original outfits which have a more unified color scheme but mismatched themes. i think it makes sense for their story overall, since early on they kind of cling to each other because theres nowhere else for them to go but now they stick together because theyre genuinely close friends. does that make sense? i dont know.

ANYWAY

the butterfly imagery. and change (and fear) as a theme with kyushumi as a whole.

even though theres like a really obvious reasoning for a butterfly being extremely thematic for mizuki (transgender moment) thats actually NOT the important reason with kyushumi. because its kind of an open secret among them. no one pushes them about it but like when nene also goes to the same school its hard for her to not hear about it yknow. nene cares more about her friends than what people say about her friends.

really i think where its interesting is like. how each of them have a major change in approach to something during the story. something theyre afraid of but eventually overcome. does that make sense i hope that makes sense

nene and honami both are some sort of fear of perception by others. both are basically the same as canon (nene being afraid of failing in front of others so she stops trying and honami being afraid of being an outcast if she stops trying to please everyone) and the end outcomes are roughly the same. honami stands up for herself, stops being so afraid of what everyone else might think, etc. not that she doesnt care about her perception by others of course but she starts to be able to overcome the pressure to do what she wants to.

nene isnt as drastic as canon, tbh, but she does regain her confidence to sing again. i think kyushumi becomes an online vocaloid music group and nene, having had notable experience with singing before, ends up as the one mainly behind working with the vocaloids. but in that whole process she gradually starts singing again to first help get a feel for how the song should work and eventually because at heart she still loves doing it. she starts posting her singing online since its less committal (she could just delete the videos if things go badly) but it also helps break down the fear of how people perceive her skills again. maybe not enough to get her back on stage, but enough that she starts to believe in her potential again.

mizukis is mostly about being open........... running away and hiding whenever things go wrong but gradually getting less flighty and more honest about their feelings......... also the fear of connection getting broken because mizunene 👍 two years ago me was cooking with this

promising that theyll stick together because what theyve developed together is more important than what other people might threaten their bond with. yeah. i love kyushumi mizunene so much guys (i made their dynamic this way myself)

minoris is least about fear and most about change in the way of changing directions with her goals......... she never stops chasing that idol dream but also opens herself up to new paths. making music with kyushumi so she has more to show for what shes capable of and also having a new direction to pour her passion into when things dont go her way.

does any of this make any sense. who knows. it makes sense in my head. i love my butterflies regardless and i hope you guys all like them too

[chuuyascumsock]

Helloooo

That rat reaction pic was both adorable and had me laughing my ass offf(my sense of humor is lowkey highkey kinda broken so apologies 😭)

ALSO

ME??? A MONSTERFUCKER??????HUH?? THAT SOUNDS DEPLORABLE! But youre right so anyway- (kinda actually saw a monsterfucker bingo and did it{yknow just for funsies and shi} and like i ticked off 10 of the 24 boxes? i mean i think thats enough to qualify??? Right??)

okie soo umm i kinda waited too long to type out the thoughts and they um *disssipated* so immm kinda gonna string together the crumbs i still remember🥲

(Also like to clarify when i say werewolf,i kinda mean like the something between like that one halloween official art and atsushi when he’s in his weretiger form?)

Imagine werewolf chuuya who just cant keep his hands off you when he’s in heat,he just NEEDS you,CARNALLY

While you’re cooking dinner he’ll come up behind you and wrap his arms around you,nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck,lightly nibbling on your skin and just slightly grinding his crotch into your ass.

After a while you can feel his hard on and how hes desperately trying to hold himself back.

so you do the only sensible thing you can think of~

You turn around and kiss him~

You have no idea how it escalated from a passionate kiss to this,but now he has you bent over the kitchen island,your underwear discarded and forgotten while he frees his hard cock from his now-tight pants.he coats his dick in lube and precum before he thrusts into your rear,(although he’d love to go right at it,he knows your only human and would never want to hurt you) going at an inhuman speed and illicitting the most lewd little sounds for you~

His claws sinking into your hips to hold you in one place,all the while he’s letting out breathy “good girl/boy” and “that’s it take it hnghh you take me so good doll” s as he ruts into your ass.as he feels his climax nearing he goes harder and deeper his throbbing cock continuously hitting your g-spot causing you you whine and moan out loud,all which makes him go harder,the feeling of your tight little hole driving him over the edge and when he finally comes its thick sticky and he doesn’t let a single drop seep out.he continues rutting into you,fuckin his come back into you while keeping you locked in a mating press.after around two to three more rounds(now having moved to the bedroom) he slows down and makes sure your okay.he loves to see the fucked out look on your face as he cleans you up and as he sees your silly little hole white and glazy with his come he has to resist the urge to plug you up and let you stay that way until your next session,but if youve previously said your okay with it he’s definitely gonna do it-

Once your tucked in all nice clean (and *cough*plugged up) he gets into bed as well spooning you and lightly licking the bites and hickey now covering your neck and collarbone.

(I wanna add some more but i think this is already long enough.i hope this makes sense and sounds coherent at least,i think i got a little lost in the sauce🥲)

Also yess i saw that voyeurism tag👀👀👀 (got me wet just thinking about it🫣)

Ooh and also of smut,fluff,angst and crack,What’s your favorite??

And bestie(am i allowed to call you that?) im like 99.99% your irl personality is just as great as your online one🙄🤚

That isnt debatable btw🫶

I speak facts not fiction 😌

Well except for the smut,that’s fictional-

ACTUALLY NO FRICK IT THATS FACTS TOO!🙌

And to end this silly,goofy and unreasonably long ask id just like to wish you a lovely day/afternoon/evening/night filled with snackies,dopamine-inducing events and a lot of,as you said, H2hoe!

Stay safe and slay safe😌💅🏻

(Help its 4.50 am😭🥲)

-🧀

YOU DID, YOU DID GET LOST IN THE SAUCE, YOU WERE DROWNING IN IT 😭 BUT IT WAS GOOD SAUCE, DELICIOUS SAUCE EVEN. (Fr made me choke on my mango and everything while reading).

Glad you specified that you didn’t mean Chuuya like full furry mode or that would’ve been awky 💀

Literally Chuuya— but THAT WAS SO GOOD ACTUALLY. I can’t believe you wrote almost a full smutshot in my inbox, you should rlly write this down and post your own smut LMAO.

I forgot to add something to my Detective Chuuya summary, but it’s ok, I fixed it 🤭

My favorite genre is crack, I feel like I write top tier crack ngl, my Ai chats also look insane with all the silly stuff I do with the characters (literally mostly Dazai bc I kin him so doing platonically silly shit w/ him is my comfort).

AND YES YOU CAN CALL ME BESTIE— I feel like we’re definitely past that 😈 But I will have to deny my irl personality being just as good as my online one because I am socially inept 🥰

ALSO GET SOME SLEEP BESTIE CAUSE THAT’S SUPER IMPORTANT (I’m a hypocrite). BUT EAT A GOOD BREAKFAST AND FUCK UP THOSE CLASSES 💪😼

[qualitative-decay]

settings person in the aftermath of nick's parable bc i got. possessed 😔

You can do a lot, with the settings of a game, if you know what you're doing. They've been performing triage as best they can whilst the Narrator meticulously vivisects himself, but the Parable is still dying.

Maybe they're just postponing the inevitable. Maybe they should just let it happen, let the Narrator and Parable (and the Curator, and themself) alike disintegrate byte by byte, until there's not so much as a line left of any of them.

They can't bring themself to, though. It's not like they've got any affection for him — they've found him more or less contemptible for about as long as they can remember — but they can still have a sense of self preservation.

....If they frame it that way, as self preservation, they don't have to think about the Parable using them for its own sake. They have to keep the wheel turning after all, they have to, they have to, but this is the first time it's been rendered so wholly their responsibility — the Narrator had kept it going for a long time without needing them to intervene.

Turning the wrong direction, maybe. Or... off-axis? Something. The point is, it's been eroding for eons; forced to move in a way it was never meant to. Stanley still had the scars to prove it when he left. But they didn't have the power to make it turn correctly again, and it was still moving, so they just didn't have that internal imperative to do something.

....Maybe if they had tried to, somehow, they wouldn't all be in this mess.

That other Narrator, stealing away Stanley.... okay, he might have technically sparked this, yeah, but. If they're being honest, things were probably always heading this direction anyway. At least like this, one of them can be spared the aftermath.

It wasn't like Stanley was particularly thriving in this environment.

(That was the first time they'd seen him smile in.... okay, they can't remember that, either. It wasn't like they really knew him or anything — they're pretty sure no one except maybe the Curator even knows they exist in the first place — but he was still the closest thing to a friend they had, so. It was nice to see him smile again, before he made it out. ....God, they hope he made it out.)

They're not sure how cognizant the Narrator is (or even can be) of what he's doing, at this point — they kind of suspect he doesn't know how to do anything else anymore, his obsession the last real piece of him remaining. For every line of code they manage to stabilize, he's tearing at three more, faster than ever. They're losing ground. They're losing coherency — they're part of the Parable just as much as he is, and they can feel their own code within it starting to fail. They think, somewhat hysterically, maybe they could just, somehow, cut themself out of the Parable entirely, before he can pull them apart with him, but.... Something intrinsically woven into them won't let them so much as try.

(They don't.... want to die. They aren't sure if they can, if they're even alive enough for dying to be the right word. But, whether dead or some other word, this is going to mark the end of them all the same, and they're. Terrified.)

[ode2rin]

hi mimi! just dropping by here to let you know how much i love your fics! it's my girl dinner 😋 honestly you make me wanna write and everytime i do, i just can't start 🥲 i feel like it's never good enough i'm a perfectionist so its been a problem but i really really wanna try 🥲 how do you write your fics :(

hi hun sorry i'm responding latee it's been a hectic week !! thanks for dropping by and sending me kind words :> i don't think i'm qualified enough to give you writing tips but coming from a perfectionist to one another, all i can tell u is write ugly !

i get that feeling of not being "good enough" but, i swear the process gets easier when you've finally convinced yourself to just start. the "fuck it we ball" thinking, in simpler terms. just start writing what flows in your mind !! and it doesn't have to be perfect, doesn't have to be the best thing, doesn't have to be the most metaphorical words out there. "drafts" are there for a reason :> and if you could see my drafts oh lord are they a mess. they're chunks of paragraphs that aren't even coherent, dialogues that don't even make a proper conversation, and ideas that don't make sense one bit. but's that's the thing !! it's always a two-step process: creation THEN refinement :) think of writing as a process rather than an outcome.

and how i write my fics? exactly like that ^ i take out my notes app or even a piece of paper near me to write a paragraph, a prompt, a line that i candidly thought of at that exact moment. and if i've accumulated enough words (word vomit if i'm being honest xD), that's when i sit down to improve them :)

hope it helps you at least !!

[missymoop]

OOOOOOHHHHHH

um um um um um um um um. um um um um

a ranking on all school subjects and why - obviously i need this very important vital information

ill go first so you have an idea of what the fuck im on about:

CHEMISTRY (the greatest. subject to ever exist) - it just makes sense like the words and science and just fire and explosions and quite literally everything (its my favourite) its the best

English? I love my english teacher - shes my favourite teacher I have shes very cool - and the content is fun (this one and lit sometimes swap but the cool feminist theory we have been doing recently bumped it up two spots) I think in words, and genuinely enjoy writing essays so english is great

Human Biology - its easy i dont pay attention, I get this subject, my teacher and I have a wonderful mutual understanding of what I do in class and I love him also the content is literally about me - like how I work and I think thats easy to remember? idk

Lit - its bad at the moment, weve done the same thing like 10 lessons in a row istg

Methods (Maths HARD MATHS) i hate maths, im not good at it i dont think like that and my teacher is OBSESSED with doing it with like f(x) and NOT THE NUMBERS and my brain just loses it - i almost cry in every class because im already bad enough at everything, i dont need this - also maths is quite literally my parents favourite subject to scrutinise me on - they couldnt give two shits about everything else (which is so great) especially becuase i actually failed my last maths test (not good outcomes for me lol) My freaky friend THINKS IN MATHS???? like no - people naturally think like that (shes annoyingly good at everything though so...)

anyway hopefully that randomness was fun to read I make no promises for coherence - thats not what im here for I was placed on this earth for random rambles and other peoples tragic entertainment lol

hoping you have a decent week (or at least better than where my brains at lol)

:)

hmmmmmmmmmm

1. english!!! i really love how easy it is to do lol and it just makes sense to me most times

2. maths. to me its normally good and usually my fav but this last semester i have had the WORST teacher EVER. but normally as long as i have a good teacher for it its amazing.

3. biology. its my fav science because its easy asf, thats it lol.

4. social studies. i feel like we have just learned the same stupid Canadian history for the past 10 years of my life istg. its so fing boring.

5. the rest of the science courses. they are dreadful and i will never take them again.

those are just my main courses but my overall favourite classes like top three are, spanish, creative writing then maths.

[sanjisprincesswifey]

Ahhh, the prompts for your event are so cute/dramatic ❤️🙌 May I ask for prompt 39. “You could do so much better” with Kid and she/her pronouns? Tysm and hope finals are going well~ ❤️😘🥰

note: thank YOU so much anon for this request, i l o v e writing for my emo boyfriend! italicized sections imply a flashback!

♡: female reader implied. 600+ words. sfw content.

an unfamiliar smell causes kid’s nose to twitch, grunting at the burning sensation. “what the hell is that smell?” he grunts, standing up from his seat.

as if on cue you walk into the room, fluffing your hair out one final time. “has anyone seen my bag?” you ask, pretending to not notice the gawking expression of your captain.

killer clears his throat, unsure if it was to get your attention or kid’s, “why are you so dressed up?” he questions, throwing your bag at you.

the dress that hugged your body complimented every curve you had; the boys didn’t know much about fashion, but they did know that you looked so good. especially kid, who might as well have been standing in a pool of his own drool.

“a man from this village offered to take me out for a drink tonight,” you smiled, rummaging through your purse to make sure you had everything on you.

kid’s jaw snapped closed from its previous gaped position, his brows knitting tightly together. he didn’t know what to say as he watched you wave goodbye to the rest of them and head out on your way.

sure, you had been broken up for at least a month now, but he didn’t think you would move on this fast.

“i’m just asking you to act like a boyfriend sometimes kid, that’s all!” you scream, his eyes rolling with every word you speak. “it’s like you don’t even love me,” you quietly huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

kid’s jaw tightens, gritting his teeth together before he stands up and pushes past you, “well then let’s just break up since you could do so much better than me.”

he grips onto the door frame, pausing before exiting.

he doesn’t know if he was waiting for you to object or maybe beg for him to not go, but only your stunned silence filled the room, and then he was gone.

kid is quiet the rest of the night, mugs of untouched sake remain on the table. he’d usually be so drunk he couldn’t even tell his own crewmates apart, unable to get out a coherent sentence, but he remained sober, waiting for you to return.

you stumble around, a single tear falling down your cheek as you light the cigarette between your lips. you see the victoria punk rocking calmly back and forth and almost feel a sense of relief until you remember that the man you loved didn’t want you anymore.

you attempt to reboard the ship as quietly as possible, but your clumsy footsteps practically give you away.

the kitchen light flicks on as you seek a glass of water, but you jump when the light reveals kid who’s sitting at the dining table. his head is in his hands; he knows it’s you.

“what’re you doing here?” you heave, heading towards the fridge and doing your best to keep your unbothered expression despite the copious amounts of alcohol in your system.

you wait for an answer and to be honest, he’s trying to come up with one himself. “well?” you demand, slamming your cup onto the table. he doesn’t flinch or get upset, but you didn’t expect him to. you almost wanted him to, so he’d say something, anything.

“i…i was waiting for you.” he admits, surprising even himself. “i need you y/n,” he continues, his fists clenched together at the embarrassment of his confession.

you’re staring at his head of red hair, his face still was planted towards the table. but your eyes soften as the tenseness your body felt dissipates into thin air.

“well it took you long enough,” you sigh in relief, your hand running through his brightly colored hair. “why’d you let me go out on a date then, huh?” you joke as he shoots an annoyed glace your way.

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! (✿◠‿◠)