#i'd like to preface this by saying that i have no idea what writing is

[alistairs]

Iva's BG3 Guys [2/?] → Tavryn Khalazza

“I’m a fine wine served at a low class tavern.”

✦ Species: Half-Drow ✦ Class: Great Old One Warlock ✦ Age: 25 ✦ Personality: Naive, Exuberant ✦ Alignment: Chaotic Good ✦ Height: 5'4 ✦ Build: Slender

✦ Appearance:

Art by Elftome

✦ Background: Tav was born and raised in Scornubel, the caravan city. His only family is his mother, Medea Khalazza, a disgraced noblewoman from Menzoberranzan. His father, a human Warlock, left before Tavryn was born and Medea has staunchly refused to divulge more information about him, Much to Tavryns chagrin.

For as long as he can remember Tav has heard a mysterious and otherworldly voice calling out to him in his dreams - offering him power beyond his wildest imagination. This scared him as a child, but over the years he learned to ignore it.

Perhaps due to the Drow's natural aversion to the sun, or some other unknown ailment, Medea was often sickly and unable to work to take care of herself and her boy. So, Tav was forced to become independent at a young age. Back then he'd often resort to picking people's pockets, but this never sat well with his conscience. As he grew older He discovered he had a passion and talent for dance. Though, unfortunately, his attempts to make a living as a street performer never came to much fruition. Fortunately, the boy was blessed with beauty, so he is able to make a living by selling his company to the highest bidder every night, while working odd jobs during the day.

Tav never gave up dancing though, so he spends what little free time he has practicing or performing in the streets, hoping to one day be discovered by someone of note.

Though she always seemed reluctant to do so, Tav recently convinced his mother to move to Baldur's Gate with him in search for a slightly better life. This, however turned out to be a catastrophically bad decision, as on their first night in the city Tav was attacked, seemingly at random, by a man who sought to end a life. He was able to escape the situation by finally accepting the bargain the voice from his dreams had always offered him.

And to make matters worse he was whisked away by a Mindflayer ship shortly after.

✦ Who do They dream of? : After getting infected with the Tadpole, Tavryn starts having dreams about his former lover (and perhaps the only man he ever really loved), the ruthless and dashing pirate captain Talion Montador. Tall, broad, handsome and full of promises of riches and luxury, the older Half-Elf was everything Tavryn had ever wanted in a man. Sadly, their involvement only lasted some short weeks before Talion was set to go back out to sea. He offered Tav a place aboard his ship, which at first he accepted, but when the day came for them to depart, Tav never showed up at the meeting place, because he could not bare to leave his mother behind alone.

[ochibrochi]

spontaneous magic manifestation was NOT mentioned in the parenting handbook 😬

I know this isn’t how magic in dc works, but the fact that Damian’s ancestry includes some pretty powerful magic users is… INTERESTING 🤔? Drabble under the cut!

I wanna preface that I'M NOT SAYIN' that Damian should/does have magic powers, but there’s still so much unexplored potential with Damian's character, and the thought that he has a dormant adeptness in magic is somewhat compelling to me. Most importantly it would FREAK! BRUCE! OUT!!!!! What is this, magic puberty 😭??

By DC laws, anyone has the ability to learn magic, but it is also possible to be an innate ability. The Al Ghuls are no strangers to the occult-- Ra's has had increasingly been portrayed as a magic user, and the recent establishment of his mother being a sorceress/witch?? Even Talia dabbled in a bit of magic, I think. There is a catch that their power is suggested to be due to Lazarus exposure, but for arguments sake let's say the Al Ghul lineage is inherently proficient in magic (and Lazarus exposure simply enhances it).

I can't recall "magic" being a part of Damian's training/upbringing (I'm still slowly catching-up on Damian comics so apologies if I miss any canon examples of magic use). Not sure why Talia wouldn't want her little "heir to an ancient assassin empire baby" to learn magic, but it would at least give reason to Damian not knowing about his magic potential, or lack of interest in it.

Through the power of pseudo storytelling, what if Damian's encounter with Mother Soul could have triggered a manifestation of magic that was once dormant; like a pressure cooker waiting to explode with energy when it hasn't been given a safe outlet.

I've yet to read a satisfying arc where Damian truly gets to contemplate his Al Ghul roots outside of "dad is good guy, mum is bad guy". Damian's initial character growth stems from him running away from, and renouncing his association with the League (i.e. "I'm nothing like you, mother and grandfather!").

The most recent thing I've read was Robin (2021), and whilst Damian is much more cordial with his mother, there's still an emotional distance and sense of distrust/resentment (for good reason, even if the context was some cartoonishly evil writing). But there is a silver-lining that they still appear to be fond of each other, in a melancholy kind of way.

Realizing he's "genetically" primed for magic would be especially confronting to Damian. There's no denying his Al Ghul blood, forcing him to confront a facet of himself he can no longer ignore or reject. A family that he likely has to approach for help/guidance.

Damian is put in a position of acknowledging this power could be used for good, to be stronger, to fight crime, balancing it with the implication that what he possesses could be rooted in dark magic (Lazarus enchantment).

If he decides to embrace it, would that be too much of an endorsement of the Al Ghul's dark occultism? Can he separate the two ideas? What if he can't control it? What if he accidentally hurts someone? What if has the ability to save someone where his other skills fall short?

Ideally, I'd love for this hypothetical story to lead into Damian exploring his Al Ghul heritage more intimately, historically, and spiritually (à la RSoB: Year of Redemption adventures). Another little coming-of-age self discovery journey.

I have my own little personal thoughts on what Damian decides to do with his magic powers, but I'd like to leave that open to interpretation... By the end of it I hope that he will at least find some forgiveness over resentment, and a balance between accepting that side of his family a little easier. It is finally a sense of inner peace :)

Any thoughts? Did I get any characterisation wrong? Let's talk over on my DC blog @arkhamochi! I'm currently trying to read all Damian-centric comics until I catch up with the current run. I'm hungry for discussion and analysis!!!!!!

[makethosenarratorsfight]

UNRELIABLE NARRATORS; FINALS.

Eugenides Propaganda:

the entire plot hinges on a detail he lets the reader (and every other character) assume is true. I don't want to spoil it because it's a really fun reveal but he is lying from the first second he appears on the page and you can't trust him to tell the full truth about ANYTHING related to himself and his goals. he mostly does it to keep his advantage and not have other characters be suspicious of him but it's just so fun when you realise he's been lying the whole time

Lemony Snicket Propaganda:

(I would like to preface this by saying that Lemony Snicket is the author's pen name, not a real person, and he exists as a character in-universe as well as being the one in-universe who writes the books!) I'd say he's unreliable because he spent time collecting information about the Baudelaire kids and then... wrote books about it. He has no idea what any of their dialogue actually was, what they were thinking, or even the whole plot, he's just doing research into the incidents and then filling in the gaps to make it a story. What ACTUALLY happened to the Baudelaires? Nobody really knows for sure

While the Baudelaire siblings are in potentially life threatening danger, he will randomly start talking about his own life and just leave the siblings hanging. For example, once Count Olaf was threatening to kill Violet, and then Lemony randomly began talking about how he met the love of his life at a costume party. This man CANNOT stay on topic. Usually when a new character is introduced, Lemony tells us right at the start that they’re either going to die or that the Baudelaire siblings will never see them again. Foreshadowing is not subtle in these books. CONSTANTLY emphasizes how miserable he feels while writing these books. At one point he admits that he had to put his pencil down and go cry for a while because of how sad it made him. Once he filled an entire page with nothing but the word “ever” to emphasize how dangerous it is to put forks in electrical outlets. He also repeated a paragraph about deja vu later on in the book to give the reader deja vu.

[imrllytootiredforthis]

HIII

Could you please make a sub felix and femdom reader kinda similar to the club one (I hope Ik which one I mean😭) but with the members reaction at the end?

Like for example if y/n and felix fucked in his dorm but the others members heard it all??🤭🤭 and write like their reactions and stuff?💙

Please🫣

Needy Baby

pairing: felix x reader

summary: he doesn't know how you do it, doesn't know how you've managed to have such an effect on him but it makes him wanna do horrible, horrible things. or better yet, let you do horrible, horrible things.

warnings: sub felix, dom reader, gn reader, fingering (felix recieving), dacryphilia (heavy in this), exhibitionism (again, heavy), wanting to be caught, lowk an orgy at the end (kind of?), masturbating (of various kinds), minsung, kinda implied seungmin and i.n., possibly more

word count: 3.2k

a/n: i'd like to preface this by saying that i'm actually so sorry about how long this took to come out-it got buried in my inbox and i only saw it when i decided to go through them all, but anyway, it's here now so i hope you enjoy!

this also isn't proofread but hopefully will be soon enough when i find the energy to do so :p

“Tell me what you want, Lixie,” he shivers, with your breath fanning over his skin, your words in his ear.

He can hardly stand it.

Hardly stay sane.

Especially since your barely alone, on the cusp of being right out in the fucking open.

“Please…” he whines again, for what feels like the tenth time in a row, over and over again, wishing for more, wishing for everything you could give him.

His friends are right outside the room. The door is cracked open and the walls paper-thin.

He's sure they can hear him. Sure that they know what's going on in here, know that their bandmate is getting his brain fucked out by his girlfriend in the next room over.

"Please,"

And he doesn't care.

They can come watch for all he cares, the thought makes him feel even hotter; the idea of them watching you ruin him, make him cry and beg and plead.

Call him pathetic and needy, a little slut who likes to get off while his friends all watch.

And he can't help but notice that the sound of the TV, that was so obviously on before has gone silent.

"Come on, tell me one more time. Just one more. I need to make sure that I really know what you want."

Touch him, claim him, devour him. Bite him, mark him, make him cry out your name until his voice is a rasp and his throat aches.

He's too far gone to care, too far gone to want anything else than the hand that's just barely ghosting over his dick.

"Do anything, anything at all~, I need you, I need it, I ne-"

You pinch his nipple, rolling it between your thumb and forefinger, licking down the side of his neck along the freckles with intent; his mouth all but falls open in a silent scream.

He can't do this, god he can't do this.

He'll go insane. He'll lose his mind.

With the warm wet feeling of your tongue gliding along his neck, nibbling on his collarbone, sucking a mark there before moving to the next patch of skin that'll be laid victim to your lust.

With the position you're in, your back against the headboard, his against your chest.

Your legs are hooked over his, pulling them apart.

His body, completely bare as your hand leaves teasing brushes all over his inner thighs and cock; the other one's having its own fun in giving him shockwaves of pleasure by tugging on his sensitive buds, relishing in the noises he makes in reply, in the way he shoves his chest toward your hand whenever you teasingly pull away

"Needy baby," you croon into his ear and he melts into your skin, into your warmth, into the solid form of your body curled around him. "Be specific," your teeth nip at his earlobe, "tell me exactly what you want."

It's like every little thing you do sets him off so easily, every touch an electric shock of sensitivity that has him gasping and reeling for a breath to calm his dizzying head.

It ruins him all the more when he remembers the door, the crack and the way you've seemed to position him, presented completely bare and open to anyone who would happen to walk in.

"Tell me."

Shit, he could cry from the way you're talking to him. He could probably cum from that alone.

"U-um,"

His hiccupy gasps bounce around the room, much too loud for anyone outside to not hear anything.

"I-I want,"

Your hand? Your mouth? Your thigh? He doesn't know, he doesn't know, he wants it all, wants everything you can give him, he can take all of it. He will take all of it, if it means you'll finally just fucking touch him.

Your fingers leave his chest, running over his collarbone and neck and jaw to lift his chin, forcing his neck sideways so that he can look back at you.

He waits expectantly, for you to do anything, for a kiss or a tease or another reminder to speak up.

"Lixie," Your tone is sharp but also soft; demanding but also suggesting; forcing but coaxing. He doesn't know how you do it, doesn't know how it has such an effect on him but it makes him wanna do horrible, horrible things. Or better yet, let you do horrible, horrible things. "You wanna hear what I want?"

He feels his head nodding, sees your smile growing, watches the desire simmer in your eyes.

Knuckles drag along his cheek with nothing but overdone faux gentleness, like he's glass and you don't want to break him.

Like you're not about to ruin him.

The calm before the storm he supposed.

Before you finally tell him what you want, "I want to make you cry." Suddenly your hand is caressing his throat. "I want to make you beg," it loosely wraps around, your thumb brushing over his pulse point. "And I want to make you plead." You can feel his heart race under your fingertips. "I want your eyes all glassy and wide, trembling as I make you go completely dumb."

"I-" His voice is shaky, panted out with that crinkle between his eyebrows that tells you he's paying more attention to the hand wrapped around his throat that he wants to admit. "W-why?" He doesn't really care for the answer. He's turned on enough knowing that you want him like that. That you want this just as much if not more than him even. He'd rather shut up and let you hurry along but he can tell you want him to play into your theatrics. You want him to play pretend.

"I can't help myself." He gasps when your other hand grabs onto his hips, blunt nails digging into his skin, leaving crescent marks in their wake as you flip him over and press him into the mattress. "When you look helpless and needy like that, just like you are now," He doesn't know how he looks now, he doesn't know if he wants to know but if the sight makes your eyes darken with lust like it does, well then hell he'll do anything to recreate it.

"I want you to depend on me. I want you to need me."

His hair fans around his head like a halo, just like the pretty little angel he is. "You're just so pretty and you look so sad, I just wanna comfort you and hold you, keep you all to myself."

Your hand squeezes ever so slightly around his neck, restricting his breathing ever so slightly that his mouth falls open with laboured pants-partially played up just for the sake of your pupils dilating. Your jaw clenches, eyes sweeping hungrily along his trembling lips before you're leaning in, nose brushing along the line of his jaw, warm breath against his skin that makes him sigh in bliss, fingers twitching with a want to touch you.

You beat him to it though. “Can I touch you, angel? Please, pretty pretty please?” Your breathing is heavy, raspy

He doesn't know why you're asking, why when you already know the answer.

He's your's. Your's to play with and touch and tease and torture to your hearts content. If you want him to squirm-he'll squirm. If you want him to beg-he'll beg. If you want him to cry...you know it all too well that he'll cry, just for you.

"Pretty, pretty please angel? Let me feel you, make you feel so, so good." Your voice is soft like silk, honeyed and candied to hide the venom sinking into his skin, infecting him until every part of his body feels like it's on fire. "I'll find that spot that makes your back arch and your eyes roll back, you want that?"

If you want him to play into your little game, he'll gladly play it. Swallowing heavily, throat bobbing against your grip. “Y-yes, please.”

So you do. You finally, finally do more than a brush of your hand.

You let go of his throat and a high needy whine escapes his lips, silenced nearly immediately by your fingers pressing against his taint, toying around his rim, "you want me here?"

He gasps, sharp and quick and the noise sounds all too loud against the silence in the room-and what if the others heard him-and what if they're sitting on the other side of the door now, watching him, wising they coul-

"Baby?" Your fingers pinch his thigh, ripping a moan from his lungs.

"Yes! Yes please!"

You smile, soothing over the spot. "Aww, such a good boy, with such good manners." Reaching over him to the nightstand, you pull out a bottle of lube before cracking it open and pouring some over your fingers.

You warm it up before you touch him, well, because you're not that mean-not yet anyway.

His gasp rings through the room when you press a finger into him. A high moan escaping his open lips, out the door and to the main area of the dorms where the rest of the boys are but you pay that no mind, dragging your fingers against his clenching walls, feeling around for that spot that'll make him gasp.

You don't care if they hear. Don't care if they watch. You know he doesn't mind either, if that desperate look in his eye has anything to say, emotions glinting as he glances at the door then back at you-hopeful and then disappointed.

As if every time he looks over he hopes that he'll see one of them, staring back at him.

And if the way the others have gotten suspiciously quiet outside, you don't think that'll take very long.

"Want the others to walk in Lix? Want them to come in and watch?" He moans wantonly, legs spreading open to invite your touch further. His body shudders with pleasure at the mere thought of the others watching him, their eyes envious. Not knowing if they'd rather be Felix, getting ruined and pulled apart by you; or you, inflicting it all. "Want them to touch?" 

You press a second finger into him, quickening the speed, lips brushing against his skin as he nods, quick and desperate as the muscles of his legs clench and unclench, nearly spasming against your hips.

"I-i want them so bad! I-i-" his mouth is dry. His head is foggy with the idea. With your touch. With the door a crack fucking open, inviting the other inhabitants of the dorm inside. "I-i!"

And then your hand is on his throat again.

His voice cracks, breaking off into a sob as you find his prostate, fingertips grazing the spot, teasing before adding a third finger and thrusting right against it.

Hard, fast, going at a pace that he can’t nearly wrap his head around as much as let out noises akin strangled animal; grasping at your shoulders, pawing down at your wrist, pleading for you to go faster and faster and faster. 

Reaching up to his throat. His gaze meeting yours in a clash of pleasure and desperation and want and need before pulling at your hand and lacing your fingers with his.

Your gaze softens, your heart melts and he blinks. Once, twice and then he can’t help but give you exactly what you want.

His eyes first grow glossy, eyelashes fluttering as if to try to hold them back. It's a futile battle. You both know that he gets so sensitive so quickly and can't hold it back. But like he said...you like a show.

You breath.

He sniffles.

Tears like liquidized crystal prick at his eyes, one, then two, then more following down the ridges and slopes of his pretty face, creating tracks of tear stains as your heart races in your chest.

His quiet cries fill the room and it drives something inside you crazy, feral, heat filling every crevice of your body.

Something inside of you sings to see him like this, and you don't even realize you've moved at all until he's letting out a watery gasp and your hand is squeezing his harder, pressing it into the sheets and your pace gets faster, and you hit his prostate head on with deadly precision each time, abusing it over and over with your fingertips and-and-

and you're leaning in and licking up his tears, the salt clinging to your tastebuds as he sobs and squirms, unable to keep still with the way that you touch him so maddeningly.

Your tongue is hot, wet, dizzying as it drags across his skin, the sensation paired with the soft press of your lips as you kiss over his freckles too and the brutal insistence of your fingers.

You lave love and affection and utter adoration with every movement and it only makes the tears come faster, makes his lighter, fuzzier.

You add a third finger and he feels everything inside of him shatter.

"-Stop! You can't, I'm-I-I'll"

"-You'll what?" You coo, and you pout like you feel bad for him, like this isn't driving you insane with lust. Like this isn't making you want to fuck his brains out even more. "You'll cum? Put on a pretty show for all your friends?"

He nods helplessly with a small whimper, head much too surrendered into the blissful haze of something far beyond him. Lube drips lewdly down your fingers and onto the sheets as you slow your pace, dragging frustrated huffs from his pretty, perfect lips.

"Words baby,"

He doesn't reply, only whines.

And you can only watch on with hungry eyes as he clumsily attempts to fuck himself to make up for the lost stimulation.

He's unused to it as many times as you've done this, used to sitting back and letting you do the work, it pulls breathless gasps from him at the new experience, at how much exertion it takes to make his hips roll and buck and his ass greedily sucks your fingers deep inside of him.

The noises pouring from his mouth are obscene and fervid, high and ringing loudly off the walls. "Yes-" he breathes, mewling "fuck, yes. Want to-...want them, want..."

He trails off and you can only continue off the barely there thought but you know him much too well to not know where he was going. "Want them rubbing their dicks to you? Your pathetic little moans and whines-gonna cum for me and cum for them too?"

His chest falls up and down, up and down. His nails dig into the flesh of your hand and with no other warnings his mouth his falling open, back bowing up into an arch as he shoots ropes of cum all over his stomach and chest.

"Fuck~"

---

It had been Han to lower down the volume on the TV when he first heard something.

A moan.

Desperate and ruined.

It was Seungmin to glare at him, eyebrows furrowing at his blatant pervertedness.

It had been Minho to raise a brow at him, snatching the remote from Han to hold it out as an offering to him-a challenge.

The words silent but a scream all it once in his eyes.

'You want to turn it down? Do it yourself.'

Seungmin stared at it as another moan came from the door-it wasn't even fucking closed the whole way.

"Fucking pervs," he'd muttered but if he'd really felt that way he would've taken the remote.

Minho looked around at the others and the others looked at him.

And he slowly set the remote down on the coffee table, open to anyone who had the willpower to turn the volume back up.

It was, surprisingly, Jeongin who grabbed the remote and turned it off completely.

And as of now the living room is dead silent as the entirety of the dorms goes quiet as well, Felix's moans ceasing to halt.

Hyunjin is the first to speak, shifting in place from where he sits on the couch, his face is red to pair with the white-knuckled grip he has on a pillow as he presses it over his lap. "We all heard that right? I'm not just hearing things?"

He only recieves blank stares in return, as if his mind could conjure such things up.

As if it isn't obvious the way that he subtly grinds up against the pillow on his lap but no one comments. Not any of the rest of them fare much better.

Han sits on Minho's lap. Desperately dryhumping against him with his face tucked into Minho's neck as his hand grips into his hair.

It's clear that he's trying to be quiet as possible despite Han's teeth dragging over his throat and quick sharp thrusts he delivers. But the quiet ragged gasps have slowly risen in volume since Hyunjin's spoken and their little show in the other room has ended. Compared to his counterpart, he sounds composed though, Han lets out ruined whines between gasps, getting higher and needier with ever second that passes by.

The two had never been shy of PDA among their friends but this was much further than the sensual but short kisses or the teasing smack on the ass.

No one was complaining though.

Changbin shamelessly palms himself over his pants. He lets his eyes slip shut as he slowly lets his hands unbutton his tight jeans, sighing when his hand dips under the waistband of his boxers.

He can feel the eyes of the others on him, feel the particular hunger for him to pull down his boxers so he can stroke himself out in the open but he doesn't. He'll leave a little something to the imagination as he groans loudly, letting his head fall back onto the cushions of the couch, the muscles in his arms flexing as he throbs.

Seungmin and Jeongin sit next to each other on the opposite couch, a shared blanket over them from earlier. Before all of this.

They glance at each other once, twice before they're silently moving, quietly leaving the room together without so much as looking at any of the others.

The sound of a door clicking shut at the end of the hall is the only thing heard.

And Chan, their leader, only stares in the direction of Felix's door, trying to ignore the raging boner he doesn't even bother to hide.

His hair still slightly wet from an earlier shower now rests in untamed curls, hanging over his forehead as he turns away from the others, hiding a raging blush on his cheeks.

Should they have left? Put earbuds in or turned the volume on the TV loud to drown out the noise of their friend?

Perhaps.

But did they?

No.

No they did not.

And did any of them regret it?

...

a/n: ngl this was kinda hard to write for the part with the other's reactions but i'm hoping that it's okay😭

lmk what you thought and my taglist is here if you wanna be added: @hobihearteu, @missrobyn81, @laylasbunbunny, @xcookiemonsteer, @hahagay, @maru-matt, @d7dream, @amidstnamjin-and-binchanlix, @gwithoutv, @abcdefgiwsmcty, hoping i got everyone rn i'm probably gonna make a more organized vers of my taglist soon

[noirsfantasy]

Okay, so you mentioned AU's so please hear me out.

Can you please write something smutty with Bang Chan in a Red Riding Hood AU?

He doesn't even need to be a were!wolf per say, he just has to have wolffish tendencies.

Anyway, I thought I'd give it a shot 👍🏻👍🏻

𝕽𝖊𝖉 𝕽𝖎𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕳𝖔𝖔𝖉

Word Count:

Type: Red Riding Hood AU, Smut

Pairing: Wolf!Bang Chan x Red Riding Hood!Reader

Summary:

A/N: I got this request a while ago and I actually really liked the idea. I decided to put my own little twist on it so please enjoy. Just to preface, this isn’t like a furry story or human x wolf, it’s completely metaphorical. Anyways, enjoy!

Leaves crunch under my feet as I stroll leisurely through the forest. My hands hold tight to a picnic basket that I’d packed to the brim with delicious treats. The sounds of nature are all around me and I can feel the sunlight peeking through the trees. I can see the squirrels jumping through the trees. I hear a woodpecker in the distance. It truly is a beautiful day to be out in nature. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, I smile to myself.

I am on my way to my granny’s little cottage to bring her some of her favorite foods. And a bit of a surprise. I am so excited that Mother sent me on this trip. I’ve wanted to visit Granny for the longest and I just know she’ll be shocked to see me. The thought of the surprised look on her face puts a pep in my step and I pick up the pace, walking the trail to her cottage.

It’s about thirty more minutes until I finally see her house in the distance. It’s such a cute little home. As I approach, I put on my biggest smile and knock on the door. I wait patiently for an answer, but there is none.

“Granny? It’s me, I’m here to bring you some treats!” I call out. Still no answer. I knock again and I hear a very hoarse “Come in.” I gingerly turn the doorknob and walk in. All the lights are off and I begin to worry. “Granny? You in here?” I ask, looking around.

“Over here, darling.” Her voice sounds low and raspy, but I walk in the direction of it.

“Goodness, Granny. Are you sick? Your voice sounds terrible.” I comment as I approach her room. It’s dark in there too. “I’m going to make you some tea, let me just find the light first.” I start feeling around the wall for the light switch, but before I could turn it on, I’m halted.

“No, don’t! Leave them off.” She tells me. “I prefer it dark in here, dear.” I raise an eyebrow begin to grow suspicious. I narrow my eyes at her, examining her frame.

“Granny…” I start walking towards her. “You seem to have gotten larger.” Im squinting to try and see her face but it’s too dark. “And you don’t sound like yourself.” Suddenly, she sprouts a wide, sharp-toothed grin and I instantly know something is wrong.

“Why, I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetie. I’m just your sweet ole granny.” She says through her teeth. My grip on my basket tightens as she speaks.

“Why are your ears so big?” I ask, seeing her ears twitch at the question.

“The better to hear you with, my dear.” She responds. I gulp nervously as I step closer, the hair on the back of my neck standing up.

“And your eyes seem a lot bigger than I remember.” Even through the darkness, I can see her wide eyes staring back at me.

“Better for me to see you with, sweetie.” She gives me that sharp-toothed grin again. I recognized that voice, and it wasn't Granny's.

“And your teeth…” I tensed, my hand reaching for the handle of my dagger in my basket as Granny leans forward. A low, rumbling laugh fills the cottage, and the figure in Granny’s spot slides out of the bed, stepping into the shadows so that their features are hidden.

“You know, Red, Granny didn’t ask this many questions when I got here. But then again, she didn’t have a chance to,” the figure purrs, its voice dropping to a sexy, familiar timbre.

I narrowed my eyes, my heart beginning to pound in my chest. I knew that voice, deep and gravelly, sending shivers down my spine. I take a step forward, my anger and confusion fueling my courage.

"Who are you, and what have you done with Granny?" The figure steps closer, and my breath hitches as I make out the features of a man. He’s taller than me and muscular, with dark hair and slanted eyes, a wolfish grin split his face. My eyes widen as I recognize him, my body reacting instantly to the sight. "Bang Chan," I whisper, my dagger forgotten as my body flooded with desire.

He’s my ex-boyfriend and old partner, we were the perfect duo. However, he got cocky and arrogant, and the agency decided we shouldn’t be partners anymore. Though our lives as agents tearing us apart, the flame between us had never truly gone out.

“Hey, sexy.” He greets, taking another step forward, his eyes burning with desire. "I knew you'd come for Granny, so I decided to pay her a visit first. I couldn't resist the chance to see you again."

I feel angry that he had taken my kill, wanting to push him away and punish him for his arrogance. But my body betrays me, desire clouding my judgment.

"You son of a bitch," I breath, taking a step closer, my body moving of its own volition. "You knew I was coming for her. You stole my kill." His eyes glitter with amusement, and he takes another step, closing the distance between us.

"I couldn't resist, Red. You know how I love a challenge. And you, my feisty little agent, are a challenge I can't deny myself." His voice drops to a husky murmur, his breath warm against my skin.

“You can’t be here, Chan. The agency will know-”

“I don’t give a fuck about the agency.” He takes another step forward and places his hand on my waist, his touch burning against my skin. I want to push him away, but my body wants more. I ache for his touch, my breath coming in short gasps as he invades my personal space.

"You always were a stubborn one, Red," he whispers, his lips brushing against my ear, his hands reaching for my hips. "Don’t you remember how good we were together?" I gulp a bit nervously and sigh.

“We were reckless.” I say, forcing my eyes from his gaze and looking off to the side. He gives me a bit of a fake pout.

“Seems like you don’t remember… well then, let me remind you~” His touch sends sparks racing through my body, and I gasp as he pulls me flush against him, his hard body molding perfectly to mine. I can feel him pressing into me, hard and insistent against my stomach, and my anger melts away. I want this, I want him, and my hands fist in his shirt, pulling him closer.

"Dammit, Chan," I groan, my head falling back as his lips trail down my neck, his teeth nipping gently at my pulse point. "I should kick your ass right now.”

He chuckles, his hands sliding up my back to tangle in my hair, tilting my head back to claim my mouth in a searing kiss. "But you don't want to, do you, baby?" he murmurs against my lips, his tongue teasing mine. "You want me just as much as I want you."

I can’t deny it; the proof is in the way my body moves against his, seeking closer contact. I moan into his mouth, my hands sliding under his shirt to feel the smooth, hard planes of his chest.

"Fuck, Chan," I breathe, my nails scratching lightly down his back. "I want you. So bad."

A low growl emits from his throat, a sound that sends a thrill straight to my core. With a swift movement, he lifts me onto Granny’s bed, his hands skimming up my thighs to rest on the curves of my hips. "I knew my little Red couldn’t stay away," he smirks, his eyes dark with desire.

My heart races as I pull his shirt over his head, my hands glorying in the feel of his smooth skin. He sinks his teeth into my neck, sending shivers through me, before trailing kisses down to the valley between my breasts. My body shudders at the sensation, offering myself to him, my breasts straining against the thin material of my shirt. 

With deft fingers, he undoes the buttons of my shirt, his lips following the path, leaving a trail of fire on my skin. "My beautiful Red," he mumbles, his thumbs brushing over my peaked nipples, making me hiss in pleasure. "I've missed touching you, tasting you." 

"Please, Chan," I beg, my hands tangling in his hair, holding him to me as his lips closed around one tight bud, sucking gently. "I need you~" 

He obliges, his tongue teasing and swirling around my sensitive flesh as his hands roam over my body, mapping every curve. His fingers dip lower, teasing the hem of my skirt, lifting it up before pushing past my damp panties to stroke the hot, wet center of me. 

I cry out, my body tensing as he strokes me, his finger plunging into my wetness. "Chan," I moan, my hips circling, seeking more friction. "More." 

He adds another finger, stretching and stroking me, his thumb rubbing my clit in lazy circles. "You're so wet for me, baby," he growls, his voice hoarse with desire. "You must’ve missed me." 

"Mmh~ Stop teasing me," I whine, my hands reaching for the fastening of his pants, eager to free his hardness.

He bites his lip as he stands, pulling off his pants and kicking them aside before returning to his spot between my thighs. He grabs me by the throat kisses me deeply, his fingers continuing their magic, stroking and plunging as my hips moved against his hand. I’m helpless with desire, my nails digging into his shoulders. 

"You like when Daddy touches you like this, baby?" He asks against my lips, his thumb pressing harder against my swollen clit. My brows draw together as I nod, itching for more. "Let me feel you fall apart." 

His words and movements send me over the edge, and I cry out, but just as I reach my climax, he removes his touch. I whine in frustration as I watch him suck my juices from his fingers.

“Chan, why-” I’m cut off by him grabbing my throat again, a bit more forcefully. He’s discarded his underwear and his hard length presses against my sensitive core. I gasp weakly as my hands wrap around his wrist as he leans me back. With a low grunt, he thrusts into me, seating himself fully inside me, and we both groaned at the feeling of being joined so intimately once more. Chan begins to move, his hips snapping as he set a punishing pace, his hands grasping mine, pinning them above my head.

I moan loudly, reminded suddenly just how big he was and how much he knows my body.

"You feel so good, baby," he tells me, his eyes locked on mine as he thrusts deep, his cock brushing against my sensitive walls. "I've fantasized about being inside you again."

“Hah- Chan-” I can’t even string together a sentence as my mind turns to mush. His cock hits all the right spots within me and the lewd sounds of him fucking me furthers my experience.

I meet his thrusts, my legs tightening around his waist as I rise to meet each delicious stroke.

"Harder, harder," I beg, wanting to feel him possess me, brand me. He obliges, snapping his hips harder, his cock driving deep as he seeks his own release.

"Fuck, Red," he groans, his eyes squeezed shut as he chases his orgasm. "So tight, so good. My perfect girl~" 

His words sends me spiraling toward the edge once more, and I cry out, my body tightening around him as he allows me to cum, my walls pulsating around his hardness. Chan follows soon after, his body stiffening as he fills me with his warmth, a growl tearing from his throat.

We stay joined for long moments, our breath slowly returning to normal as we revel in the feel of each other. Finally, Chan pulls out of me, his eyes soft as he brushes my hair from my face. "We should do this more often, Red," he murmurs, his thumb brushing my swollen lower lip. 

I smile, sated and happy for now. "We just might, Wolf," I tease, sitting up and reaching for my abandoned basket. "But next time, don't steal my kill or I will kill you." 

Chan laughs, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "You know where to find me if you want a repeat performance, Red Riding Hood." 

With a final, lingering kiss, I dress myself, gather my weapons, and step out of the cottage, a smile on my face.

[amerricanartwork]

I saw your lilypad art post, and I got curious: why do you enjoy lilypad? it's not a common RW ship, so I'd be interesting to hear what about it you enjoy!

Hear me out, guys... I must explain myself before I get onto the Lilypad essay.

I made that original comment because, at the time, I wanted to just get the aforementioned headcanons out as soon as possible. Understand, my reluctance wasn't because I didn't want to talk about Lilypad, but rather the exact opposite: I had so many feelings about it, yet had put so little effort into expressing them in a coherent, presentable format that I just knew it'd distract me for the next week or two if I let it rent too much space in my conscious thoughts. But now that little comment has left me with several people asking me to share those thoughts, and, both thankfully and unfortunately, I simply can't resist indulging in thoughts about the characters I love—!

Keep in mind, I haven’t finished Saint campaign yet, and even then I’ve found like less than half the broadcasts in Spearmaster campaign yet, so there’s likely some extra canon info I may be missing that could add to or change some of what I say here. I also apologize if some of what I write here seems really out-of-character. I try not to let my passion for my little headcanons and scenarios make me disregard the canon, but even so, I might slip and think up some weird things occasionally. Nonetheless, I feel like I’ve got enough of the picture to start confidently enjoying this ship, so I’ll talk about it anyway! 

As always, feel free to add to these ideas if you can! Without further delay, enjoy this 3381-word essay, with a few initial headcanons sprinkled in, on why I adore Lilypad!

Oh, and just in case, if you couldn’t already tell, major Hunter campaign spoilers below.

Quetzalli on Loving Lilypad

I’m gonna start this out with a preface: I can generally find the appeal in a lot of different ships and the art other fans make for them, but for me to ship something enough to actively draw it and make my own headcanons about it and such (outside of, perhaps, gifts for other people), it usually has to contain a variety of “ship tropes” that I personally fancy. Many of my most-favorite ship tropes tend to be the ones that aren’t just cute, but that carry narrative significance and seem poetic in some way, usually because they can facilitate character arcs in the involved characters. The more of these a ship has, or the more ship tropes I can portray it with without it seeming too out-of-character, and the more I like those specific tropes, the better. This principle is a major reason why I’ve gravitated towards Artimand as my main slugcat ship, but for now, I’m going to focus on which of these I see in Lilypad — in canon content, other fan-portrayals, and my personal headcanons — that, as opposed to other iterator ships, has currently won me over.

I’m gonna describe the main general things I like seeing in this ship. Some of them are more due to fandom portrayals than what’s in the canon, but they all play a big role in my current love for Lilypad. 

Synergy

I’ll begin with how I really appreciate just how much synergy Looks to the Moon and No Significant Harassment are shown to have, at least in fan content! I always like seeing pairings where the characters aren’t just romantic, but also work really well together as a team or even just as friends. After all, just because the characters may be romantically in love doesn’t mean they must only show it in explicitly romantic ways. To me, Lilypad strikes me as a relationship where Sig and Moon would make an amazing team in many aspects of their lives, whether it's collaborating on projects, sharing their interests, or trying to maintain order in the rest of their group. And their compliment is just really sweet to me, though I’ll get to that later.

A Shoulder to Lean On/The Lady

One of my favorite ship tropes is “character with a lot of weight on their shoulder who finally gets to lift it off and be ‘normal’ for once when around the other”. I’ve always found it sweet when characters like this, especially ones who are normally very selfless, finally get a chance to indulge and enjoy themselves for once! And once again, this is another thing I imagine in Artimand too, and you could project this onto Trafficlights given Suns’s implied high status, but I think it works especially with Lilypad, given Moon’s role as group senior means she objectively has a lot to manage all the time with no permanent escape from it. Even beyond the whole Five Pebbles rot drama, Moon probably had a lot on her plate just in terms of maintaining order between the rest of the group and setting a good example to the younger generations, especially as the group expanded over time, not to mention trying to find the solution herself. Combine this with how I picture her to be the kind of person who cares a lot about her image as a “proper” and  “dignified” leader, and someone who often sacrifices her own desires to promote the group’s welfare, I just find it really soft for her to have someone to lean on, metaphorically (and in a worm-off-the-string scenario, literally), and who better to go to than her best teammate, who knows the power of a good laugh and will stop at nothing to have fun with those he loves? Not to mention, since I headcanon Sig as slightly younger than Moon (2nd gen, specifically), I just find it rather cute in an ironic sense that the older, more serious Moon is soft around the younger, far more chaotic Sig, especially as Moon would go through the realization that she actually kinda likes this little troublemaker! 

This also comes back to something I mentioned in the tags of that beepsnort post, which is that one of my other favorite ship tropes is “guy who loves/is good at making people laugh x girl who has a REALLY weird/embarrassing laugh”, and that just works so well with Lilypad! It’s admittedly a very headcanon-based thing for me, but given how I’ve already explained my perception of Moon as very proper and serious, I imagine one of the best ways Sig takes the weight off her shoulders is by being the only person who can consistently make her laugh so hard! And with the beepsnort headcanon it’s even cuter, because of course Moon would be super embarrassed every time she even so much as gives a half-chuckle at one of his jokes, because Sig is relentless when it comes to getting the giggles out of her, and he won’t stop until she’s rolling and shaking on the floor of her chamber, her beepy-snorts filling the room! My GODDD I love this trope so much, and for beings who are inherently such workaholics, I think getting to genuinely relax and have fun for a bit, once she gets over the initial shock and embarrassment, would be something Moon would really come to value.

Inverses Attract/The Tramp

I’ve mentioned it in my last Artimand headcanons post, but one of my absolute all-time favorite ship tropes is the classic “opposites attract”, although I prefer the name “inverses attract”. As I like to portray it, the trope not only involves characters who are opposites personality-wise, but those being opposites of the same core aspect, and ultimately helping balance each other out by offering the other half of the equation to each other (hence the name “inverses”). The trope I just wrote about above is how Sig helps Moon to relax and have fun, but as I try to do with all ships, how does it work the other way too? Well, I really like to imagine Sig learning to be more openly serious and dedicated! Don’t get me wrong, Sig is a hard worker (it’s pretty much the nature of all iterators), but given he seems to pretty strongly reject the quest for the Triple Affirmative, I imagine the next problem would be in him finding a new purpose to strive for. And what better new purpose than in standing by and protecting the group senior he thinks he just might wanna be more than friends with?

It already works because Moon, of course, would work to keep Sig in check and make sure he doesn’t go too overboard with his shenanigans. But just imagine how inspired he’d grow over time seeing Moon work so hard to keep the group together and keep them striving for their purpose, even if he doesn’t agree with it. I imagine it’s why Sig’s methods are still rather controlled rather than purely chaotic, and there’s a reason to his rebellion. Thanks to Moon, rather than slaving away at a seemingly impossible solution until his mind collapses with his structure, he’ll use his talents to, at the very least, keep the local group together as long as possible, because even if they’ll all be gone one day, that doesn’t mean they have to go alone!

It’s why I’m also labeling these two tropes together as “the Lady and the Tramp”, yet another ship dynamic that gets me every time! It’s a specific instance of “inverses attract” where the noble, proper lady finds a taste of freedom and courage from the dangerously charming tramp, who from her finds a new sense of purpose and honor! And in my opinion, Lilypad is most definitely the best opportunity for this dynamic among Rain World ships!

The Fated Couple

Slow-burn couples seem to be pretty popular in many fandoms, but what about a really slow-burn? There’s something just so romantic to me about the idea that Moon and Sig, from the moment they met, have always just clicked so perfectly, and have been by each other’s side so constantly ever since, to the point it seems practically inevitable to everyone (except them of course) that they’ll eventually get together romantically. Of course, there are two main roadblocks to their romance being 1.) their whole objective and purpose for being created is kind-of fundamentally opposed to strong attachments like love (I mean, if Karma 3 is Companionship, wouldn’t romantic love be considered the worst example of that?), and 2.) even if they did reject this purpose, being massive immovable structures with the only humanoid part stuck deep inside a box, a budding romance seemingly couldn’t really go anywhere anyway. In fact, because of these roadblocks much of my Lilypad imaginings take place in the ever-popular “worm-off-the-string” scenario, especially since the next couple of reasons for why I like the ship play a lot into the themes I like to incorporate in this story concept. 

However, these issues towards such a romance are also what make it so sweet in the end! Just think of Moon, alone in her chamber, beginning to worry about how she’s actually kinda sorta, maybe, hypothetically, possibly, just a little bit starting to like the carefree and charismatic Gen 2 in the local group as even more than just a work partner and a dear friend, but oh no, that’s indulging in a Karmic Sin, and as group senior she can’t just throw away their purpose like that and set such a bad example to the rest! What’s she gonna do?? And then on the other side, Sig puzzling in his chamber, pining so hard for the group senior yet seemingly unable to confess, because, even disregarding Karma 3 and the fact that giant immobile calculators aren’t about to be snuggling any time soon, why would someone as perfect and powerful as her want someone like him, so dismissive of their core purpose and unorthodox in his methods? Is there even a point in having these feelings at all, when they might very well end up simply fading to dust along with the rest of his structure?

Maybe, they both think, it’d be better to just keep these feelings to themselves and quietly love from a distance. That is, until…

Moon’s Collapse and the Slag Reset Keys

The fourth reason is, of course, the most steeped in canon. It goes back a bit to the “shoulder to lean on” concept, but even aside from that, there is something just so romantic about this on both sides.

Firstly, from Moon’s perspective. There’s no doubt that the collapse must have been very traumatic for Looks to the Moon physically, but I like to think about just how much it’d affect her emotionally, too. I mean, being so painfully destroyed by your own brother, with seemingly nothing that can be done to stop it and no one to help you? And then consider how lonely it must have been in her final moments. The only comfort she does get is from Spearmaster’s visit, and even then she sends him off to go deliver her final words, which has still got to be really depressing. And finally, think about how betrayed she must have felt, trying so hard throughout her operation to help her citizens and the local group and be kind to everyone, only to have it be repaid like this, forced to collapse in on herself, being buried under her own body, unfathomable pain all around, and with not a soul to help her.

So then, think about just how shocking and heartwarming (literally, if you think about it) it must be when that lovable Gen 2, always so playful and carefree normally, is the one to give her a second chance and being her back when all hope seems lost, and using such a unique delivery method no less! I mean COME ON, Sig literally brought her back to life, how could one NOT fall in love with someone who did that for them? It links back to the “shoulder to lean on” idea, in that, for once, someone finally looked out for Moon and gave back to her for all the kindness she gave to the world. Think about this as the moment she truly realizes she’s in love with No Significant Harassment, and how tragic it’d be knowing now, it’s too late to say it. But, even so, if he’s willing to go this far to make sure she’s okay, then maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance her love at least wasn’t alone.

Now, my thoughts about this from No Significant Harassment’s side (which also kinda turned into a mini NSH appreciation paragraph that links back to the earlier Inverses Attract and Lady and the Tramp segment), I think it’s very poetic to see him going out of his way to take his messenger concept, originally used for no more than a trivial prank and at most a very experimental and unfinished alternative communication method, and turning it into a noble last-ditch effort to rescue the one he loves. It doesn’t just clearly show how much he cares for Moon that he worked to save her when no one else did (and if that’s because the odds of being able to do anything seemed very low to the rest of them, that makes it even more sweet) I think it shows off a lot of Sig’s character beyond just being a jokester. Like, I’d seen this kind of personality for Sig in the fandom content before, but this action and the other broadcasts are what first made me truly realize not just that it is based in canon, but that, more importantly he’s not just stupid or unfocused, he’s rebellious. He doesn’t joke around because he just doesn’t care, it’s because he’s independent, he’s got other places he wants to go and plans that don’t fit into what most of his peers are used to. He makes light of the world because he sees what others don’t, and it’s honestly pretty frickin’ funny how blind others can be most of the time (case-in-point: him making a slugcat from a messenger, which no one else thought to do because those creatures seemed too “dull” and “primitive” to ever be capable of such a thing). So think about how significant it must be when he’s openly taking something seriously. This is where that dynamic of the Tramp, and how Sig would benefit from this relationship is really highlighted. I just adore it when the easygoing, carefree character finally finds purpose in their lover, and springs into serious action like they never were before! And it makes sense too given what I said about them not getting together before: seeing Moon collapse would show him directly that even beings as durable as iterators don’t last forever, so if he’s got these feelings for Moon, he’s got to make a move while there’s still a chance! And what better way to show his love than to bring her back when all hope seems lost? Which brings me to the final aspects I’ll talk about here, first of which is…

True Love’s Kiss

Yes, you read that right. The real reason I love the slag reset keys as a plot element so much is not just because it shows Sig’s secret strength of character, not just because it finally gives reward to Moon’s kindness, but because it is a real fairytale come true! 

I know this sounds crazy and probably totally unrelated to Rain World, but think about it! You guys have probably seen Snow White and Sleeping Beauty before, or at least one of the two? Isn’t the whole trope that the beautiful princess, fairest maiden in the land, gets cursed through some means or another to die (or in Aurora’s case, fall into an indefinite sleep), which is only undone when the strong and brave prince, riding upon his noble steed, awakens the princess by giving her true love’s kiss? I already love both those movies on their own for various other reasons, but after my description, is this starting to sound familiar in another way?

I mean, with everything I’ve said about Moon in this post so far, there’s no doubt you could perceive her as the “fair princess”, who through unfortunate circumstances is put to a premature and indefinite death. And there’s no doubt Sig fills the role of the brave prince by working to save her with the slag reset keys, which in this metaphor are undoubtedly the “true love’s kiss” that ultimately conquers all, always longed for, and finally delivered! And hey, given Hunter is the one to carry the keys to Moon, a small yet courageous beast who stops at nothing to meet his goals, Sig even has his own “noble steed”! And even if Hunter is technically the one to actually deliver the green neuron, and the death the “princess” succumbs to wasn’t out of genuine malice towards her, I think the sentiment is still there and the parallel is close enough! 

But yes, as strange as it may sound, the fairytale parallel is the main reason Lilypad resonates with me so much! Those classic fairytale-esque romance tropes and that poetic storytelling found in Disney’s first feature-length animated films has always been dear to my heart, and is even more so now that I’m older and can truly appreciate the beauty of them. So now, even in my fandom experiences, ships that win my appreciation over all others are often those that manage to embody those classic romance tropes and themes as best as possible, and frankly, even Artimand loses ever-so-slightly to Lilypad in this regard! Or, as I also enjoy calling them, “Lifeline”, for reasons that are probably obvious now. 

And it’s even better when you consider…

Some Things Never Change

Another trope I’ve recently begun to love is the idea that some phenomena in the world never truly disappear, but simply manifest in different ways, sometimes unexpected ones. And given the whole Triple Affirmative quest and the Ancients’ mass ascension philosophy, this idea is something I especially love seeing in Rain World content. Even the canon events show this idea, but think about how wonderfully it would work with Lilypad beyond just the slag reset keys, especially taking up that “worm off the string” iterator AU concept some have explored in this fandom already.

Just think about how sweet it would be when Moon and Sig, operating primarily through their puppets now, get to finally hug and kiss and be with each other so directly now! Think of the way Sig would speak to Moon about how, even after her collapse, she's still somehow beautiful as ever, and Moon returning with how even all the trouble the group has faced hasn't put a dent in his charm! And it's even sweeter when you consider it’s against everything their creators stood for! Think of Moon, after everything she’s been through and how much she’s probably changed at this point, now willing to give some of these “worldly attachments” a chance, because you can never truly get rid of them, but she knows better than anyone that you won’t be around to experience them forever, so why not enjoy it while you’ve got the chance? And it’d make sense too, not just for her own benefit, but for Pebbles and the rest of the group’s sake too! She’s always strove to set a good example for them, and since their original quest has left them with nothing but pain and trauma, why not show them that maybe all these attachments aren’t so bad after all?

I just think it’d be really interesting to see Moon joining Sig in that rejection of the Triple Affirmative, and what better way to do that than by finally embracing that love they’ve felt for each other for so long? Because love never truly dies, it just appears in new people. And maybe they don’t have to spend their whole lives as grand iterators, the vast infinitely-advanced mechanical deities who embody perfection in almost every way. Maybe, even just for a bit, they can just be people, falling in love just as their creators did all over again!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

And with that, I think I’m FINALLY done here. HOLY COW, this is easily my longest post yet, and I hope it doesn’t disappoint! Part of the reason it took so long was because I was trying to find the perfect way to express all these ideas without it just spilling out onto the page in some weird half-coherent mess. But eventually I just said “ah screw it, let’s just ramble about this ship and see where it goes!” and my god, did it go far! And I still managed to somewhat organize it, so yay!

But aside from that, thank you SO MUCH to everyone who asked for my thoughts on Lilypad, and everyone who made it to the bottom of this essay! I’ve never really gotten a chance to openly ramble about one of my favorite ships to the rest of the fandom like this, so seeing that some fans, even if it’s ultimately not a huge amount, actually wanted me to do it was such a welcome surprise!

I hope you all enjoyed the drawings and the art! I’ll be around in case someone wants me to write another ship essay or something! And who knows, it’s likely I’ll find more reasons I like Lilypad as time goes on and I see more fan-content and find the rest of those broadcasts! But at least this was a starting point! 

Expect more LIlypad content to come in the future, but until now, thanks again for the opportunity!

[feybeasts]

For funsies, and to flex my writing muscles again, I thought I'd write up a little faux-research-article on the wereplush concept I've been playing with and y'all seem to enjoy- what follows is both a vague lore framework and description of the curse via one of its first bearers... yours truly!

If it's a fun idea and you wanna subject yer own OCs to it, by all means, feel free! I'm not gonna act like I have the last say in a fun little idea, ehehe.

Below the break, then, I present to you:

THE CURSE OF THE WEREPLUSH: An Examination of Virulent Arcana

by Lena Hart.

Foreward

If there is anything I'm known for among my kind- and the many friends I've made across the greater multiverse- I would hope that chief among these qualities is my dedication to my work. In the scant few years I've acted as the Spirit Archives' caretaker, I've worked hard to document, understand, and put names to its many lost pieces of arcana, its once-nameless denizens, its peculiar quirks. I've treated my responsibilities with the utmost care no matter what sort of proverbial wrenches are thrown in the works, whether that be restless spirits, outside intervention, or- and I will fully admit this one is significant, even if it embarrasses me somewhat- my own... let's say poor luck with volatile artifacts. Such a dedication is not always easy, for when one's form is often altered, one's mind assailed, and one's breaks frequently disturbed, properly-written research papers can be the last thing on one's mind.

Even so, I endure not because I'm stubborn- though I AM that- but because this work is important. Because I believe in it.

So, with that prefaced, I hope you can fully appreciate the gravity with which I say now that the following report is... one of the most difficult things I've ever had to write. Not because the subject matter is transgressive or challenging; no, if anything, it's anything BUT that. What I've taken to calling the Curse of the Wereplush is, if anything, frankly ridiculous on the face of it- but what makes it difficult to write is... well...

...The effect that selfsame curse has had on me, as patient zero.

As far as I can surmise, I am the first wereplush in the modern age, as any mention of such creatures is... all but nonexistent before now. Before me, there was simply no such thing, no papers written, no need for classification, and that the curse has now reached such a pitch that I feel the need to write all I know on it... well... that stings a little.

"My bad," as they say.

Of course, I'd be a bad scholar if I proclaimed my difficulty in writing about a subject is borne entirely of my proximity to it. No, the challenge in writing this paper has been almost exclusively physical, as you'll soon understand. The transformation I've undergone has been so drastic both in its effect on my body and the changes in my very mind, that I've had to rely on voice transcription to write, which may lend this paper something of a more... conversational... tone than you'd expect.

Still, I carry on, and I hope that the information provided in the following pages serves some use to anyone in the future who needs it- even if it seems more and more likely it's... too late for me.

Section One: Overview

The Curse of the Wereplush is a transformative contagion of wholly magical origin. Insofar as this scholar can tell, there are no records of its creation, no mention of its original creator, and no previous cases before... well, before myself. Though it bears some outward similarity to the likes of lycanthropy in its physical transmission and transformative effects on the victim, hence the name I've given the curse, it differs significantly both in its physical effect and its... peculiar... set of 'rules'.

Upon becoming afflicted with the curse, a victim experiences a rapid set of physical changes after a brief delay, and then further set of physical and mental changes over time. In the short term, usually a few minutes to hours after transmission (depending on, as far as I can ascertain, one's magical resistances,) a victim experiences a rather dramatic physical transformation. Their body, whether previously biological, mechanical, or even magical in nature, becomes a simulacrum of itself made of living fabric and some manner of thick, soft polyfill. Defined shapes become simplified forms, digits lose dexterity, and their eyes become simplistic pseudo-plastic dots. In essence, the victim is transformed into a living plush toy, complete with knitted seams (though no actual yarn or string is visible, as far as I've been able to tell,) and a tag somewhere on their form. In addition, the newly-made Wereplush gains a squeaker somewhere within their body, usually within what was once their abdomen. Though the transformation is dramatic, it isn't painful, and in some ways, the added weight, plushness, and soft, fuzzy "skin" is... rather pleasant...

Given the wildly varied natures of the faefolk, this alone wouldn't register as much of a shock- I've personally met everything from living boulders to a rather talkative sentient volleyball, but this initial set of changes also isn't the most pressing thing about the curse. No, it is what comes next, in the ensuing days, weeks, and months, that truly makes the Wereplush curse unique- and in some ways, insidious.

To be a Wereplush is not an unpleasant thing, if I'm wholly honest. One loses the need to eat, gains impressive flexibility without bones getting in the way, and it's hard to deny just about all victims of the curse are... rather delightful to observe. It would be hard to call it a curse when one is first affected, and indeed, once you're used to your new body, you may even consider it an improvement. But one must not forget that they don't stop changing after this initial metamorphosis, and it is these slower, persistent changes that represent the more... concerning... aspects of the curse.

The first of these changes is mental. Slowly, the pleasantness of being in this new shape changes into a sort of dopey self-affection for the victim. One finds they greatly enjoy squeezing and handling their new form, a sort of mental stimulus not unlike a cat's desire to scratch furniture or a dog's need to wag their tail. Slowly, this need to be handled and squeezed begins to become their primary concern, rendering most other thoughts an easily-forgotten haze at its worst. The harsher edges of one's personality fall away, it becomes harder to grow angry or agitated, and laughter comes easily. A developing Wereplush becomes someone who is delightful and huggable, and this is only made more pronounced by the second change that occurs over time. This characterizes itself as what I can only describe as "pillowfication".

Simply put, the longer one remains a Wereplush, the plusher they become. Limbs become thicker, bellies swell rounder, cheeks fill and fill to crowd out one's snout. After a week or so, a formerly skinny Wereplush may seem to have grown chubby, but after a month, they can hardly hold their increasingly-orbicular body upright. Stuffing eventually crowds one's body in such density that they become a sort of enormous, living mattress, and this process, as far as I can ascertain, does not cease. Even if I wanted to, having been this way for so long now, my digits are too thick to hold a pen, and I could hardly lift either of my arms to do so if I wished, nor see past my own... prodigious... abdomen to boot.

Less... nuanced friends have told me I quite resemble a pink hippopotamus now... if said hippo was the size of a house.

To say I'm soft to the touch, squeezable, well, that would be the understatement of a lifetime, but it is exactly this nigh-comical plushness that presents a problem, for though one is tempted to cuddle a developed Wereplush for all they're worth, it is exactly this process by which the curse is spread- for as I mentioned previously, every Wereplush has a squeaker within their cursed form- and if a non-Wereplush manages to squeak it, usually through such unrestrained contact, the curse is transferred to them.

It almost seems ridiculous, doesn't it? Accidentally get a Wereplush to squeak, and you turn into one. And make no mistake- even at my size, one can easily still strike my own; with how deeply the curse has taken root within me, they even get a rather... dramatic headstart on their pillowfication. The last poor soul who couldn't help themself nearly instantaneously became so round they had to be rolled away, though they did seem quite pleased with themselves...

But I digress. These aspects combined have made the curse quite... astonishingly virulent, and yet they've done so simply by exploiting a desire nearly every living being has- the need to squeeze something soft.

Section Two: Origins, Treatments, Cures(?)

As I've mentioned previously, the origins of the Wereplush curse are a mystery, though I am in a unique position to speak on the original transmission vector. Deep in the Spirit Archives' storerooms, where I've tried to organize yet-uncategorized artifacts before they are studied and displayed, I have boxes upon boxes of smaller objects- pins, buttons, tags, odds and ends. In a moment of clumsiness, I was pricked by a rather nondescript sewing needle, and thinking nothing of it, I tossed it out. That the spot I was poked did not heal, instead forming a patch of strange, felt-feeling fur should have been my first indication that something was amiss, but it was only later that evening, as I readied for bed, that the curse overtook me. By then, the needle was long gone, and all that remains of its origin is the tag now affixed to one of my flanks- one that depicts the very same needle, pulling a length of pink thread, as if taunting my mistake.

Having no shortage of magical know-how at my disposal, I've tried every method I could think of to cure the curse. Brute-force dispelling has no effect, and as a Wereplush cannot eat or drink, potions and alchemy are hardly viable. I've even tried transformation magic in desperation, but even the wildest polymorphing only makes oneself a Wereplush in the shape of a given animal, it does not restore the old form. I must admit, then, that without the original implement of my transformation to study, I am without any other avenues to seek a cure, and finding it- well, that's like finding a literal needle in a proverbial haystack.

With no apparent cure, then, I must turn to treatments, ways to minimize the more... dangerous effects of the curse. Chief among these, for the safety of others, is that under no circumstances must one allow themselves to be cuddled or squeezed by a party not affected by the curse. Though a Plush is a lovely, huggable thing, soft and squishy beyond compare, though it brings us no greater joy than to be needed, loved, cuddled... transmission of the curse under such circumstances isn't simply probable, it's all but assured. To nullify this, I've found that cuddling with other plushes can satisfy the need somewhat, if not entirely. If a non-plush coming in for a hug is unavoidable, try at least to direct them to your tail, if you have one, or less important limbs- squeakers are known to migrate, but this at least helps to reduce risk until the mortal can be made to... restrain themselves.

As for pillowfication... I'm afraid there are even fewer ways to mitigate the onset. There is no visible cause of it, one does not gain weight in the traditional sense, and though one may be tempted to try to pull apart a seam and empty themselves of fluff, as far as I can ascertain, our fabric "skin" is completely unbreakable. Pillowfication is an inevitability once you bear the curse, so the best one can really do is find loose-fitting, comfortable clothing, and get used to their newfound bulk as it grows. Though it isn't much of a silver lining, I can wholly attest that the process is quite comfortable, and if nothing else, the lack of a biological body means one will never become wholly immobile.

I would like to consider this paper a living document, and rest assured- if in my research I can find a cure, I will do my best to disseminate the information promptly, but for now, the best any of us can do is try to mitigate the effects on ourselves and others.

Section Three: Miscellaneous Points

As I've been asked a number of questions that I cannot place within the broader text, and there are peculiarities to the condition I've only recently discovered, I'll try to provide a few below in bullet-point.

As mentioned above, Wereplushes appear to be functionally indestructible. We're fireproof, waterproof, can't be cut, and flattening is really just inconvenient. More aggressive victims have been kept at bay with large weights laid atop them, which work well enough, until they're too plump for the weights to find purchase, anyways.

The process of pillowfication feels not unlike having eaten a large meal, albeit the sense of "fullness" permeates one's entire body. Quite honestly, by this point I feel quite like I've been feasting for ages...

Though lighter than one's biological body at first, as a Wereplush's condition grows more advanced, their internal fluff grows denser. A new plush may be quite soft and malleable, but a deeply pillowfied plush feels like memory foam, and is just as heavy to boot!

A Wereplush's voice can change over time, some becoming squeakier and higher, some deeper and more syrupy, some not changing at all. It is unclear if this holds any significance.

Even if they were once human, a humanoid synthetic, what have you, all Wereplushes seem to take the form of anthropomorphic animals, with more animalistic folk more closely resembling their original form when transformed.

A Wereplush's tag seems to embody some aspect of themselves or the circumstances of their transformation, and is usually a simple pictogram depicting some aspect of their personality or history.

The rate at which a Wereplush pillowfies seems to vary from victim to victim, and the extent of the process appears to be limitless, though it slows once they've grown ploddingly large.

The sensations one feels if they've hit a Wereplush's squeaker, and warning signs that they've been afflicted by the curse, are an immediate sense of lightheadedness, butterflies in the stomach, and difficulty standing upright. These feelings intensify up to the point of transformation, at which point their body changes into their new, plushie self.

It is unclear how many Wereplushes now exist, but given the multidimensional nature of the Spirit Archive, and the decent number of initial and subsequent victims, there could be hundreds, even thousands...

[comicalbliss]

Nadie Más Que Tú

I wanted to try writing something, I love reading everyone’s beautiful work on here so I thought I'd write my own for funsies.

Just to preface I've never actually written anything before so I'm sorry if it's straight booty cheeks and doesn't make a whole lotta sense.

general warnings/cw: 18+ pls no minors ty, fem!reader, mentions of drinking/going to a bar, eventual smut. lmk if I’ve forgotten anything!

♡o .✿ฺ ✿ฺ ♡o.✿ฺ。✿ฺ♡o.✿ฺ。✿ฺ♡o。.✿ฺ。ฺ ♡

You’ve been casually dating for six months now yet you only ever really see him on weekends and even that’s rare, hell you hadn’t even been intimate with the guy. But today was different. He didn’t have work due to a company dinner he was taking you to. So he decided to take you to the mall. Like a date?

“Are you sure you don’t want anything? I already told you it’s fine if you use my card.” Miguel said, trying to persuade you into buying something.

“I’m fine, I don’t need anything.”

This was true, what more could you want? You have a closet full of clothes and literally anything else you could want thanks to him.

“They have a boutique here, we could buy you a dress for tonight’s dinner.” He suggested.

It was like he was trying to get you to spend his money. Kinda cute honestly.

“Mm.. I guess?” You said a bit hesitant, still not wanting to spend his money.

You head over to the boutique and you start trying on different dresses with the help of one of the workers. Though none of the dresses seemed to be “the one”.

“We just got a beautiful dress shipped in if you want to try that one on.” The worker said.

“Let’s see it!” You said enthusiastically.

The worker goes into the back and brings out a gorgeous burgundy dress. It was long, had intricate lace backing, and a thigh high slit. You excitedly get into the changing room and put it on.

You walk out of the dressing room, it fits perfectly. The fabric hugs your curves in just the right ways, not to mention the color and how well it compliments your skin.

“You like it?” You give Miguel a little twirl to show it off and you SWEAR you saw him blush a little.

He pauses for a second, like he’s lost in a train of thought before he speaks. “It looks fine.” Is all he says though. A little disappointing of a response but.. at least he liked it?

“I’ll take it..!” You say with a smile.

You and Miguel walk out of the boutique, new dress in hand. You have a huge smile on your face.

“Thank you!” you say giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

“It’s no problem.” He says with a faint smile.

He then wrapped his arm around your waist as you walked back to his car to leave and get ready at his place for dinner. Weird.. he isn’t usually very affectionate or the type to touch you in public…

— — —

About 30 minutes before dinner you were about done getting ready, putting on your new dress and some other accessories.

As you’re getting ready you just can’t shake off the thought of Miguel putting his arm around you like that, it makes your heart flutter a bit just thinking about it. What did it mean-

Your thoughts were interrupted by Miguel’s voice.

“You ready?”

He was still putting on his tie when he walked in the room.

“Yeah, I’m ready. Are we leaving now?” You looked up at him.

He kinda just stands in the doorway for a second, staring…

“Ah, yeah. Let’s go.” He cleared his throat and walked out.

Weird.. what was that about… he’s been like this ever since you left the boutique...

— — —

Dinner was pretty normal. If normal was horribly boring. All they were doing was talking about business stuff that you had absolutely no interest in. You were bored out of your mind.

Eventually the conversation shifts in a different direction. “So, how did you two meet?” One of Miguel’s co-workers asks. “We had no idea Miguel had a girlfriend.” Another spoke up.

You were a little caught off guard by the question and the response it got from the other co-worker… How did you guys meet..

“We met through a mutual friend.” You replied, sheepishly picking up your drink and taking a sip.

That was a lie. You actually met at a bar, nothing too crazy but it doesn’t sound very professional and you didn’t wanna embarrass Miguel.

You were down at a bar late at night with some of your girlfriends when you spotted a cutie all by himself. He looked a little older, just your type. With a little “Be right back!” you made your way over to him and started some small talk.

“This seat taken?”

“Depends who’s asking.”

Nonchalant type. I can work with that.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

You sit down and scoot yourself closer to him.

“What’s that?” You say pointing at his drink

“Whiskey.”

“Ugh, so boring..”

You picked up his drink and were about to take a sip when he gently grabbed it back.

“That’s unsanitary.” He gave a fake scowl.

“You almost didn't stop me.” You smile up at him proudly.

He scoffed.

“You got insta?”

“Excuse me?”

You rolled your eyes

“I thought you were older but I didn’t think you were that old.” You smirked. Sliding your already unlocked phone over to him.

He looked at you hesitantly before taking your phone and typing something in. He set your phone down before getting up and walking away without another word. Rude. With a giddy smile you pick up your phone and read.

don’t have one

That bastard…

— — —

“She’s just as amazing as the day we met.” Miguel chimed in.

“That’s really sweet!” The co-worker cooed.

You looked up at Miguel and smiled. He then rested one of his hands on your thigh, causing a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. He was doing it again.. so oddly affectionate.

The rest of the evening went smoothly. However, you still couldn’t shake off that weird feeling. Up until this point things with Miguel had never been this way. You treated each other like close friends most of the time.

The time to leave eventually rolled around and you both headed home, you could feel a strange tension in the car. You kept looking over at him but he looked fine.

I’m probably just tired..

Once home you noticed his demeanor had changed, he was acting a little strange but you tried to think nothing of it, he was probably just tired too.

You headed to his bedroom with him. As you went to close the door you turned around to find Miguel was standing in front of you, arms crossed.

“What are you doing..?” You ask fully confused on why he was standing there like that.

Miguel stepped closer to you, pushing you against the door. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, faster than you ever thought possible. He was much bigger than you, and that was very clear in this moment.

He leaned his head down close to your ear.

“You have no idea how fucking good you look in that dress.” Miguel whispered the vibration of his voice going straight to your core.

You could practically see the lust in his eyes.

“I thought about doing this in the dressing room at the boutique.” He said now running his hand down your curves.

You laughed nervously, squirming a bit. This has to be a joke… right?

“Miguel–” You tried to speak.

He turned you around on the door pressing himself against you again, you could feel his hard-on against your ass. Nope, definitely not a joke.

“How much did you have to drink?” You asked nervously as he pressed kisses on the back of your neck.

“I didn’t drink tonight.” He replied.

He then wrapped his arms around your waist resting his head on your shoulder.

“I just want you, I’ve wanted you..” He whispered into the shell of your ear, the words coming out of his mouth like honey. You could feel the wetness pool in your panties at the sound.

Fuck. He’s so hot. Why is he so hot? What is happening?!

[tetitous]

Everyone, I have done it.

So, the post about Yugo and queerness in Wakfu is a 3 parter due to my use and abuse of pictures. You'll be able to enjoy part 2 here, and dw I'll add one at the bottom too

First, I would like to preface this by saying that, while I do believe they didn’t create or write Yugo with the idea making him queer in mind, I do not think the creators made things unintentionally either. What I think they actually wanted to do with Yugo, was to have a character that felt as gender neutral as possible, in order to make him relatable to the show's originally young audience, without alienating girls or boys. A character not leaning too much one way or the other.

But as such Yugo is a character that can be read within a queer lens without that much of an effort. I know a lot of people on this site hc him as on the aro and/or ace spectrum, some degree of nonbinary and in my specific case as genderfluid bi/pan, and I'm even considering possibly intersex.

Wakfu also happens to be the kind of show that, whether intentionally or not, just finds itself to have a ton and a half of queerness in it: from simple implications to actually out queer characters, the world depicted in the show is a diverse one, in that sense and more.

That’s why I genuinely think that it's not just random readings that come from fandom's typical queering goggles, I think there are elements in the show that do help these readings, precise elements as well as elements that need a little more digging.

So here's what this post aims to do: to find those elements and compile them in as clear a way as possible. Please do take into account that I am very easily prone to reaching so if you don't see it, that's totally fine, and I may end up structuring things in very chaotic ways, but I am doing my best.

I decided to separate my writing between the gender elements and the sexuality elements, with a listing format. One element, one dash. Since I am french and don’t know much about the english translation, I’ll be illustrating everything using screenshots as reminders, and will be adding some small notes and quotes translated by myself when needed. Well then, let's get started!

The gender category, or as I'd like to call it "this could have been an email- but make it about a trans character":

Yugo's name: first, this one is 100% due to a fic I read that made me reflect on a very interesting fact: in s1ep1, when Alibert finds Grougal's message, Yugo's name is never mentioned.

During that scene, he’s only called “this child” and “that small one”

What that means, given that Yugo's name has been "Yugo" since previous lives, is that either Alibert somehow picked the right name on first try, or, more logically, that he didn't. That Yugo got called another name for some years, until he got old enough to correct them.

And you would think the argument stops there, but in s2ep12, a character gets openly deadnamed and mocked for it by literally everyone, saying "his real name is…". There is one exception to this,

Yugo, who never mocks him and says "It’s not because your parents named you… ", which is a very interesting nuance in phrasing. It implies that, while to others the name their parents chose is a "real" name, an immovable fact of life, to Yugo it is a choice made by others for them, that can be wrong, that can be changed.

Yugo's relationship with femininity (and masculinity): Have you ever noticed that the Brotherhood of the Tofu very frequently separate themselves with gendered terms? You’ll often hear Tristepin and Ruel call Amalia and Eva “the girls” and Eva and Amalia call them plus Yugo “the boys”. Prior to the OVAs Yugo only does so in one episode, s2ep21, the one episode where he's magically seduced into being aggressive towards "the girls".

“You are so strong and smart, right guys?”

“If you aren’t happy you can go with the girls!”

Prior to this, Yugo never really plays into gender roles, and after it will be mainly due to his aging process, which we will discuss.

Yugo seems to treat socially gendered activities as if they weren’t, I believe it is also noticeable with his relationship to heroism, though that one can only be inferred in contrast to Tristepin's former very strict hero/princess binary viewpoint.

(Here I would have put an exception about the OVA and him admitting he always wanted to save a princess, but given that in the most recent manga the term is used as a pet name for him I guess I’ll let that one slide)

During s1ep4, Yugo crossdresses and not only is he comfortable with that fact, not only is he the one who came up with the idea (although Amalia gave him an unconscious push), he is thriving in it.

Look at the joy on his face upon putting a bow on.

I feel the need to remind everyone Yugo is 12 during s1, an age at which young boys are definitely aware of a gender divide and typically reject girly stuff like the pest.

Back to the Boufbowl episode once more, in s1ep10, you may have noticed Ruel calling being a cheerleader “being the girls”, and while Yugo may be on the bench as a substitute, he does participate in cheerleading right in the next episode.

Two three very motivated children and their unconvinced chaperone.

Actually he is the only character in the Brotherhood of the Tofu to be a cheerleader during both Boufbowl arcs.

His outfits are also not strongly gendered, especially compared to Tristepin's chest-out s2 design or Eva and Amalia's early short skirts, his most gendered character design might be his adult-form one, and even then, when compared to Nora's, you’ll notice Yugo is only ever wearing the same thing as her with added details (royal details?) and his own color palette. My take is he’s actually meant to look like the Eliatrope goddess, with his cape reproducing her hair.

S4 teaser Yugo because we don’t have a clean pic of his s4 design, and I did my best for Nora.

Yugo's aging process as a metaphor for transness: as we all know, from the OVAs until the last quarter of s4, Yugo is a young adult trapped within a child's body. He gets mocked and infantilized on the regular, his status as king belittled. The only thing that he maintains some form of respect for is his status as a hero. And you can tell it is weighing him down. For one, this body is an obstacle to his relationship with Amalia, not just due to the eyes of others,

"I grow slowly whereas she, she became a queen, a woman...", with the implication "and I'm not a man” or “I don't pass as one"

but also due to his own degrading self-perception.

“Let’s see who’s small!”

(notice how easily he gets tickled by a simple comment on his size, how the mere notion of his body being revealed becomes reason enough for violence in s3ep7).

Yugo gets angry and violent, a lot, and more than is typically expected of him.

“I tried thinking like Yugo, I’m sure he would have preferred this to the hit-you-in-the-face method.”

“Dear little brother, I don’t know what happened to you these last few years, but I don’t recognize you anymore!”

A result of trauma, sure, but if you're like me you may have noticed how turning into an adult made him feel very… relaxed, suddenly. In a way that can be compared to the disappearance of symptoms of body dysphoria with people who go through a process of gender-affirming transition.

As an aside, his s3 design really makes him look like he's wearing a binder, in addition to the turtleneck that would hide the absence of an Adam's apple, the look is very transmasc.

That one particular art of him is what really marked me, because of the slight shade under the chest. Doesn’t mean it is a binder, just means it could look like one.

Yugo's Eliatrope hat as a metaphor: There may not seem like there is much to say, but the fact is that this hat was very mysterious for a very long time. If you were part of the fandom before the s2 finale you may have been theorizing on a forum about what was going on behind that hat (I was on the "a second pair of ears but these are shaped like cat ears" team, but still slightly unconvinced), and you knew that there wasn't anyone more curious about this than Nox.

“We may finally get to find out what you hide under your hat.

-Even my friends never forced me to tell them!”

was a very iconic line, one that definitely could remind people of the infamous "what's in your pants" question.

Well the Brotherhood was curious as well, but mostly respectful and patient with their friend.

It was clear that there was discomfort with that part of him that he refused to reveal, so much so that he probably never washed with any of his friends. When they would hang around for days, when the girls wouldn't care between each other (and neither would Eva and Pinpin between each other, wink wink), when they would all sleep together, Yugo probably would still never take it off in front of them.

Overall my point is just that inthe rare times the hat gets discussed, it just doesn't sound cis.

the Eliotropes: they're coming back in the sexuality section, dw.

But, as Yugo himself says, they are "versions" of himself. The interesting question now is "in which way?" Since they are not "past versions" of him, and since they seem to "inherit" some of his personality/physical traits, I do believe them to be an expression of his own fragmented sense of self. Some of them may be men, as a reflection of his own perception of himself as one, but then some may be women for that same reason, and well some are women, some even are canonically enby.

Character on the far left is enby and character on the far right is a woman. Obviously Echo is not an Eliotrope.

One could even go as far as considering these traits can physically express themselves only because Yugo's anatomy reflects them, and in that case we can go into not just a gender reading, but into an intersex one. Pushing further into it, Yugo, being their creator, effectively gave birth to them, and as such they call him father, but the act of giving birth itself is typically associated with the feminine, sowe could argue that Yugo’s position is both one of father and of mother.

Of course they also have physical and mental aspects that are separate from Yugo, like none of the ones we met are the same sandy blonde as Yugo is for example, but the ambiguity of the existence of the Eliotropes is and will always be a matter of "where does Yugo end and where do they begin?".

A little question mark for the road: In OVA2, as a joke, Rubilax “reveals” that Tristepin was actually a woman all along. This is a sample of everyone’s reaction:

1st, Amalia is so bi it’s insane, but that’s not my point here. Yugo’s reaction being of absolute shock, even more so than Tristepin himself always had me wondering what was going on in his head. Through a queer lens it remains just as hard to read through, so my personal take is that Yugo is amazed at how male-“passing” Pinpin is, so much so he may think “You mean to tell me I knew that guy for years and never realized he was trans too?!” I don’t know, I’d love to get some feedback on that one.

That first section was 2 pages-long without the pictures, so let’s take a tiny break and enjoy some Yugo cuteness as a breather.

Just the cutest. He doesn’t even need to try.

part 2

[ignoremeimnothere]

6 Months

I'd just like to preface this SHIT Drabble by saying I'm literally writing in in work so that it doesn't leave my brain. Inspired by my managers friend who literally found out they're 6 months pregnant last week under the same circumstances, praying for you girl. Like all traumatising experiences I like to thing of Pedro handling me in the situation, this one probably made a lot more sense in my head. Let's hope I come back to the to improve it or progress it.

'You’re 6 months pregnant”

You laughed confused, maintaining eye contact with the doctor. 

‘No I’m not’

The room immediately became thick with awkwardness. 

‘The tes-’

‘Is wrong. I’ve got the implant. No bump. No symptoms’

You listed off all the reasons you couldn’t be pregnant. It was only by chance you had required a trip to the doctors. A holiday was booked with your closest friends for next month. You had only come in to get some anti-anxiety medication for the flight you were so scared of, a blood test was routine before you could get it. 

Your doctor’s eyes squinted slightly, trying to figure out how to handle the conversation. You held their gaze refusing to look at anything else, especially Pedro who was beside you completely silent. 

‘The results are yours. We can run another one if you would like but you are 6 months pregnant. 6 and a half to be more precise’ 

Your eyebrows furrowed, the doctor started a spiel you couldn’t quite focus on. They provide you with a few pregnancy tests to use in the bathroom. You leave to do them alone, you haven’t looked at Pedro since the doctor dropped the bombshell that was obviously- 

‘Positive’ Both tests displayed strong second lines as you felt the blood drain from your head. 

~

Pedro shut your car door as he makes his way to the other side. You haven’t said a word since returning from the bathroom tests in hand. He gets into the driver's side but can’t bring himself to turn on the engine just yet. Your head is completely blank, normally you would spiral but the shock has prolonged that still. 

‘Are you ok’ 

You can barely shake your head, you finally look at him. ‘Are you?’ 

Deafening silence fills the car. You’ve no idea how much time has passed before Pedro eventually begins the drive home. You’re completely spaced out until you approach your street. 

‘I don’t want to go home’

‘Ok baby, where do you want to go’ 

Pedro reduces his speed dramatically giving you time to think. 

‘I think I need to be alone’ You blurt out. 

‘Ok’ Pedro maintains his calm demeanour, attempting to regulate the panic he watched creep into your eyes.

‘Is that ok’ A lump appears in your throat. 

‘Can you be alone in the house?’

 He proposes a safe compromise but you shake your head, your breath catching in your throat. 

‘In the car’ Another suggestion.

You shake your head unbuckling your seatbelt before Pedro has reached your home. He calls your name, a gentle warning to not do anything dangerous. 

‘I think I just…. I need to….’ You struggle to figure out what you need to do. 

‘Breathe with me’ Pedro parked the car and unbuckled himself, twisted towards you he grabs your hands, pecking them before meeting your eye. 

‘It’s ok’ He begins. ‘You can be alone but I need you safe, do you want me to take you somewhere?’ You shake your head. ‘Ok baby but I don’t think now would be the best time for you to drive a car, do you want me to leave?’ You shake your head again.

‘I’ll take a walk?’ You suggest, it was a cloudy day making it quite quiet.

‘Ok Cariño, do you have your phone on you?’

You nod, checking your pocket. He kisses you on the cheek, unsatisfied he gently grabs your face planting a lingering kiss on your lips. You rest your forehead on his having a silent conversation. You would clear your head, come back and have the conversation. For now you needed to take in everything. You swallowed your guilt for needing to be alone, wishing that you could instead process this beside Pedro. You leave before you suffocate on the silent questions lingering in the car and make your way down the street wondering how the hell your life had changed so much within the space of an hour.

[shinysmolivgarden]

I'd like to preface this post by saying

I think the toxic chain theory was interesting, and no hate to the people who believed it, but...

I find it kind of funny that SO many people believed it.

MY FIRST POINT:

That would have been a very big plot point. And that would be kind of weird considering the Indigo Disk was obviously about Terapagos and not "Dokutaro", as it was named at the time. A thing I've seen is that people thought taking the championship title from Kieran is what would "reveal" that he had been possessed or whatever, but like... Kieran was the most important non-player character in the DLC. You'd think that if he had actually been possessed by Dokutaro, that would be the main focus of the Indigo Disk. But it clearly wasn't. Pecharunt (up until the epilogue) was only found in the files and hidden when Kieran's grandpa tells us Ogerpon's story, which is something that'd be weird to do for a legendary so important to the DLC's story. Even with Ogerpon, despite the fact that it was a reveal that it wasn't evil and a reveal to the characters in the story that it actually existed, we knew it existed because it was announced BEFORE the Teal Mask came out. And, I was right about that! Pecharunt was announced BEFORE the epilogue was released! (Again, no hate to people who thought this, I just think it's a bit weird.)

MY SECOND POINT:

A big piece of "evidence" for the theory was that the trailers for the indigo disk showed that he "dyed" his hair purple. (And that's the same color as Dokutaro! :0) Like... that was always his hair color. The underside of his hair was always purple. He just tied his hair up. You can still see his black hair from behind. I guess it made sense if you already believed the theory, but if you didn't (like me) it is easily explainable.

MY THIRD POINT:

Another theory I've seen going around (especially on tumblr) is that Kieran was not outright possessed by Pecharunt but was still influenced by it as part of his descent into... I don't want to say madness but basically madness. (This would also explain why Ogerpon did not go with Kieran during the Teal Mask. I've already created a post on MY opinions on that, but you can read that later.) A reason for this I've seen is that "there must still be some poison under the Loyal Three's grave even though their bodies have decayed" (yes I still call them the Loyal Three and not the Lousy Three, cry about it /j). Which... what? How would that poison get up to Kieran after he punched the grave? Poison is weak to ground for a reason. And as to why he wasn't fully possessed is because Pecharunt's dex entry says that its mochi draws out desires and capabilities, and Kieran of course didn't have any mochi so he wasn't outright possessed- stop. Listen to what you just said. Pecharunt's mochi draws out desires and capabilities, and Kieran didn't have any mochi. Are you beginning to see the problem? tbh toxic chain believer copium /j (I'd like to say again, I. HAVE. NOTHING. AGAINST. THESE. PEOPLE. I just think the THEORY is a bit wack. Please don't hate me.) (I will add the people who made the posts I'm referencing once I find them again.)

References:

@jadeazora for one of the posts.

https://www.tumblr.com/2oul2ilver/753739784490532864/yes-i-was-just-thinking-about-writing-a-post-on?source=share for the other.

BONUS POINT:

One of the people I saw supporting the theory before the Indigo Disk came out (It was a yt video but I can't find it again so I'll link it if i find it) said that Kieran might be possessed because "he looks crazy". That's it. That was their evidence.

IN CONCLUSION,

The toxic chain theory is a theory that I believe to be fine in concept, and I think it is an interesting idea. But, as with any theory, it had its faults and I personally didn't believe it because a majority of its evidence I believed (and still believe) to be just a tad bit wack.

Thank you for reading!

[cripplecharacters]

Hello! Want to double check that I've done a decent job of avoiding disfiguremisia, and try to turn it into great counter to hatred instead of just an okay one.

Preface: I have a form of memory loss and likely brain damage so I cannot always phrase things clearly although I will try my best.

Personally I do not feel happy reading escapist stories as that happy ending is not achievable for real people. We don't get to live in a place that's completely safe and free from judgement. I'd like to write people in a hostile world who find love and safety and community, however this does necessite writing hostility. I want to make sure I'm doing so with care.

I would like to make sure that the hostility written as tension does not tar how I write how one of the main characters. He should be written with dignity and respect even when he is not being treated well by those around him.

One of my characters is blind and develops severe burn scars. He wears a blindfold to help with photophobia and sensory overwhelm, but takes it off when its dim. (CVI plus autism.)

While he does wear a cloth coverings in public due to ugly laws, he views it as a ridiculous requirement and happily removes this mask when with friends. He also enjoys that being visibly strange or somewhat unnerving to most people means that shallow people who judge by appearances avoid him.

Question: what other things might I be able to employ to counter disfiguremisia? I have him being content with his face as it tells a story of his life and he's a blunt, forward person, not covering his face for most of the story despite laws necessitating that he do so, and a few other things too (and many side characters with facial differences and deformities also).

Also none of the central plotlines centre around facial difference. He's joining a servant rebellion, befriending a bitter exile intent on status at all costs, and discovering the truth of history. (Also a mind controlling octopus being is involved and a semi sentient moon amalgam thing but don't worry about it everything's fine.)

I think later books will be a more effective counter due to lack of ugly laws and him finding a lovely interest. I will also do my best to make the counters feel real and feasible - I want it to feel like an achievable option for those who deal with prejudice in the real world. I want his happy ending to feel real.

I respect the hell out of escapist fantasies it's just that they do nothing for me personally. I really want to write someone dealing with a lot - more than I ever have - and coming out the other end happy. Yes this world is hostile and will judge me but I can find joy despite it all. Some say the world is universally cruel but I have not found this to be the case. It is wise to be wary but myself and friends can create small sections of time and space where no precautions are necessary. Am I not part of the world? Are not they? The world is not universally cruel as long as I and those I treasure live in and we are not extraordinary, simply uncommon, and what is uncommon is still a great bounty. (Something to that effect.)

I'm set on what I want to write but the specifics I'm more than happy to change in order to bring joy. Do you have ideas on how I can do this full idea full justice?

Hello,

before getting to your actual ask, I have a "few" questions about the premise of the story itself.

You mention that you don't like escapist fantasies - that's fair. Taste differs; you can write whatever and that's great. But I do find the insistence to write a story about a specific type of discrimination as an outsider rather strange. If you want to have facial difference representation, I assume you want to have readers with facial differences, correct? I mean, I don't think that many able-bodied people would be too interested in it specifically considering most don't know what it is. So okay, this is supposed to be a story of characters with facial differences overcoming centuries worth of hatred and all that. Arguably more, considering that disfiguremisia and ableism go all the way back to Biblical times.

Why are you the person who needs to tell this story?

Just as people with facial differences are readers, we can be authors as well. We tell our stories. I will take an #OwnVoices book over a one that isn't that any day, and this fact will influence the rest of this answer. I'm a firm believer in #NothingAboutUsWithoutUs and all when it comes to this stuff.

Have you talked to people with facial differences who would be interested in the kind of story you want to tell? Do you know what they want to see from an author that's not taking it from their own experience? I don't count here, because as I made clear before, I'm not and won't be interested in it. I also don't know anyone in the community who has ever said "I wish more people without our experiences wrote about how hard it is to be us!". You need to make sure there are people who want this.

So, have, or will you, reach out to those that could like it? Sensitivity readers, random people online who like to read about disfiguremisia in their free time, advocates who work on media-centric problems? Anyone who would enjoy it is automatically a better candidate to help than me. I'm too jaded, I suppose.

If you want to talk about people with facial differences in such detail and setting, you need to get to know us. One guy with a specific set of opinions from a blog on Tumblr isn't that (thank god), but I guess I can serve as a reminder that not everyone will be excited to read a book that represents them in some way. We still have preferences.

To write it, you need to involve yourself in the community, start actually spreading activism about our issues. Preach about Face Equality and celebrate when our once-a-year week happens in May. See what disfiguremisia causes. Share our efforts to get all the problematic garbage off the big screen. Read our stories. Understand us as people who are incredibly diverse, and that not all of us like to be described as strange or unnerving.

If you only want to talk about our suffering as some quota to fill on a "types of discrimination" list, it will always be flat and inauthentic, and if you don't put in the effort it's pointless. We don't want tragedy porn, and we don't need to be included in every story about struggles that just wants some brand-new type of bigotry in it. We want authors who care about us, the living and breathing people. And sometimes it might mean respecting our opinions on writing disfiguremisia.

Here is a great post by @writingwithcolor explaining the effects of tragedy exploitation. Not everything there applies, but I would consider it a very valuable read.

If you think about all this, and decide that you are ready to write such a heavy, community-based story, go ahead to...

Actual Answers! Hooray

what other things might I be able to employ to counter disfiguremisia?

Sympathize with him. Disfiguremisia is a tragedy, it's brutal and it hurts. It's traumatic and impossible to forget, even if it wasn't happening constantly just to remind us that it's still there. On this note, I would recommend you research writing characters with PTSD.

Have him think about it. Sometimes I get home after getting stared down on the street and just want to yell. You don't forget a microaggression or a hate crime after five minutes. Let him vent and let him be upset. He can have flashbacks or recall similar situations that happened in the past.

I'm glad that he's aware of disfiguremisia unlike a ton of characters who are somehow always unable to figure out that it's a problem. If the ableism he's facing is so systemic and severe, individual people will be even more extreme. You can have him remember that the shop owner was a slur-spitting bigot, or that his neighbors avoid even talking to him. I want him to call them out - in retrospective, at the moment, in his head, whatever - on what they're doing. Throw a "not this fucking thing again" or something in there.

The minimum is to make him feel like a human with an internal thought process, who is able to actually experience what's happening to him, and for it to have long-term effects.

Also, outside of the whole disfiguremisia thing and me being overdramatic, check out our #blindness tag, and research burn scar care. If you don't show the boring and mundane, it will only feel closer to tragedy porn; just a sad thing one after another.

I will also do my best to make the counters feel real and feasible - I want it to feel like an achievable option for those who deal with prejudice in the real world.

This I think is the part of the ask that made me the saddest, and not because of what you wrote. I tried to think of achievable ways; ways that we did it, tried to do it, and are doing it, and one-by-one I crossed them out as "didn't work", "no one cared enough" or "kinda worked but honestly, it didn't". Face Equality is basically non-existent, not matter how much it hurts me to admit it! We are trying our best, and it doesn't work. It's just plain hard for me to come up with suggestions for this.

In fiction, I suppose that personal resistance is the way when it comes to this. I don't think there are feasible systemic changes that could happen that don't border on magical thinking or get into the "singular glorious revolution that somehow fixes everything and everyone lived happy ever after. We fixed racism, yay!". This just sucks.He could try to educate the people who are willing to listen - that's somewhat what I'm trying to pull off here on this blog, I guess. Sometimes it works, often it doesn't, but in his situation it wouldn't hurt to try.

The fundamental part here will be whether your character is able to find a way to make the ordinary person care in the end. To me, society who still hates us just as much, with a small group that thinks we're okay isn't a happy ending. The opposite, rather. It's cold and isolating to know only your friends could value you as a human being, and downright sad to imply that we should be happy for that. I don't mean that everyone should love us in every story, but there's a difference between The Ableism being represented by an antagonist or two versus the entire world except for the main characters.

If you decide to go forward with this story, I do hope your other readers with facial differences enjoy it!

mod Sasza

[This ask was submitted before my announcement of not taking questions regarding this subject matter. As of publishing this, it still applies.]

[nothoughtsjustluxiem]

Someone said Vox as Jing Yuan and now I have to write about it...

@posiden1234567 thank you for the idea (if you want me to remove your @ let me know)

No cause these two are so similar, they're both leaders in their own way, they both have similar personalities too it's such a good idea

Like just imagine the people who live in the Xianzhou Luofu are all Kindreds, Vox being the general (or king) of his people. He's powerful and also has lived a very long life full of experience.

He's charming and a sweet talker, everyone is swooning and respects him (some even try to get in his be-) okay sorry I'll stop

Onigiri would be Yanqing, following orders but with a grumpy attitude is so funny to me. Like 'I'll do what you say, but you owe me one' kind of attitude. But we all know they have a special bond like no other

Despite Vox's attitude and large ego, he's still very protective of his people. He will do everything he can so he wont lose you guys anymore. He's lost you once, you're not leaving his site ever again

Now what if you were his darling

Like I said in my previous post. If Vox is Jing Yuan you're pretty much holding onto a giant cuddly monkey you're whole life. He's just as clingy as Jing Yuan, and everyone knows about your relationship by the way. Most are supportive, some are a little jealous but they don't matter in this episode folks.

I'd like to think Vox also has thoughts that would bring down his mood at times. What if he'd lose you? Or his people? Will New Cydonia be okay when he departs? And just like for Jing Yuan you better give this man a big kiss.

Now hear me out..and I don't want to be angsty

But what if Blade was Fulgur (now I just want to preface, if there are blade and jing yuan shippers out there then I don't follow that. I more of see them as brothers well in the past)

Jing Yuan and Blade are polar opposites, and so are Vox and Fulgur. The thing is neither of them are blood related it's just coincidence and feel yknow?

Anyway that's all that I have for now, I might make more if I think of anything. Let me know what you think!

[makethosenarratorsfight]

UNRELIABLE NARRATORS; THE FINAL FINAL

Shen Qingqiu Propaganda:

The entire series is told from his POV and the story seems like a comedy. The side stories from other characters POVs make the story sound like a tragedy. He thought that Luo Binghe hated him and wanted him dead while everyone else knew that Binghe was in love with him.

the whole book he’s using his OWN interpretation of the world to explain literally everything, not knowing that his introduction into the world changed it so fundamentally that his prior knowledge of it is less than useless. he’s like “binghe is being sweet to me because binghe is sweet to people that wronged him before repaying their slight a thousandfold, and he only adds their acceptance of his sweetness to his tally of their sins!! i have to run away forever or he’ll tear my arms and legs off!!!!!!” and binghe in reality is like “wow the love of my life my beloved shizun is scared of me still :( i should act sweet and nonthreatening so he’s not scared of me :(“ and he literally doesn’t have this corrected until the end of the book. but even when that one thing is corrected he still is like “haha okay but these other six things-“ bro……. cucumber bro………….. you homosexualized the world just accept it

He examines the entire reality he's isekai-ed into as if it's still fictional and his inner monologue ignores any "character trait" of the people around him that doesn't fit into his perception of "canon" despite everything he's done to change reality from the canon of the novel he first read. He routinely mislabels his own emotions as well as making heteronormative assumptions about himself and the people around him before he finally realises he's in reciprocated gay love with a man. It's a book that benefits being read twice, so the second time around you can focus on the implications Shen Qingqiu blatantly misses.

Transmigrates into a novel he “hates,” assumes he’s doing a good job pretending to be the character whose body he got stuck in, assumes other characters will stick to their original paths. Lotta assumptions, lots of rationalizing, lots of incredible feats of misunderstanding/misinterpreting things. His internal narration is also hysterical.

Lemony Snicket Propaganda:

(I would like to preface this by saying that Lemony Snicket is the author's pen name, not a real person, and he exists as a character in-universe as well as being the one in-universe who writes the books!) I'd say he's unreliable because he spent time collecting information about the Baudelaire kids and then... wrote books about it. He has no idea what any of their dialogue actually was, what they were thinking, or even the whole plot, he's just doing research into the incidents and then filling in the gaps to make it a story. What ACTUALLY happened to the Baudelaires? Nobody really knows for sure

While the Baudelaire siblings are in potentially life threatening danger, he will randomly start talking about his own life and just leave the siblings hanging. For example, once Count Olaf was threatening to kill Violet, and then Lemony randomly began talking about how he met the love of his life at a costume party. This man CANNOT stay on topic. Usually when a new character is introduced, Lemony tells us right at the start that they’re either going to die or that the Baudelaire siblings will never see them again. Foreshadowing is not subtle in these books. CONSTANTLY emphasizes how miserable he feels while writing these books. At one point he admits that he had to put his pencil down and go cry for a while because of how sad it made him. Once he filled an entire page with nothing but the word “ever” to emphasize how dangerous it is to put forks in electrical outlets. He also repeated a paragraph about deja vu later on in the book to give the reader deja vu.

[imagoddamnonionmason]

Goose! Please tell me, is there a headcanon about Frank x Jodie's relationship that's been rotating in your mind but you haven't revealed yet?

Hi E!

YES! There is! I'll preface this with I'm pretty certain I've not mentioned it, but if I have, it will have been in passing; at least now I can go into a little more detail about it! I will also be adding a read more cause I think it's gonna get long-

One head canon I have for their relationship is how they ground each other in situations where their emotions either might be heightened or going through something mentally. For example, in some of my writings already, I've shown Jodie's moments of having little flashbacks, or reactions to certain stimuli that trigger a traumatic response due to her brainwashing (and general trauma). This is something that we could also attribute to Frank, too, given his long service in the military.

So, to get to the specifics, it's a small, subtle action. Simply, when either of them notices the other might need a little grounding, a reminder that they're not alone, or that they need to calm down, they will use their fingertips/knuckles of their fingers to either brush or tap lightly on the other person's hand/wrist.

The reason I've been thinking about it is because I knew that Jodie would be the kind of character that, when in turmoil, wouldn't want to be touched. If she's angry, upset, crying, she will not want to be touched (unless you asked and she invited it).

But I was also thinking that, especially given that Jodie has been brainwashed and Frank now has two people in his life that have gone through similar things, Frank would probably have a better idea of how to manage the moments where Jodie is 'not present'.

I've also seen it knocking around that Frank will also do something similar with Alex, those friendly pushes in cutscenes are a tactic Frank uses to make sure Alex is still grounded. Although I saw that after I'd already been thinking about this with Jodie and Frank, but it was nice to see that my understanding of Frank's character seemed to line up! Like, of course Frank would do something like that.

BUT Jodie does this for Frank, too.

I just thought having something so subtly intimate as a way for these two to interact in time of needing comfort (but maybe not wanting to be overwhelmed) is what will give me life right now.

BONUS: I had been speaking with @alypink regarding a face claim post I reblogged where Jodie's face claim, Kate Beckinsale, was wearing glasses. I do have a little headcanon that Jodie wears reading glasses to ensure she doesn't get eye strain.

POINT BEING, when they're in the workplace, maybe Jodie is reading some intel, combing through Birdseye view pictures of terrain - whatever it is. She's intently focused, enough that she wouldn't see Frank walking by. Just a little torment, maybe to break her attention for a split second (because this man knows Jodie will work herself into a hole and not take a break) he gently knocks the side of her glasses and sends them slightly skewed on the bridge of her nose.

Frank gives me an air of being able to be mischievously charming XD she'd look up at him, pouting with the glasses not corrected and he probably gets a little laugh out of it, whilst also achieving making sure that Jodie gets a small break (even if she doesn't realise that's his goal).

Sure he could straight up say, "take a break" but Jodie would also just be like "one more thing and then I will" but... respond that every damn time. Frank gets creative in making her break eye contact with the pages.

This headcanon is something a little softer, less serious, but thanks to Aly I couldn't stop thinking about that scene in my head.

[lymooniee]

Why I hc Shadow as autistic:

Just gonna preface this before I begin, this is all for fun and is a headcanon of mine. Your headcanons may be different to mine and that's valid too! Any grammar mistakes uh- ignore because I'm too lazy to edit this like crazy.

I will also link the video I made of all the moments, too, since it is way too long to post it on here. Keep in mind that not every moment is in the video, but like 95 percent of it is.

Shadow for me has always shown plenty of signs of being autistic, I'll provide as much evidence as I possibly can while doing my best to try and keep this at a reasonable length.

Shadow has always been the silent type of character when he is written correctly or, in other words, whenever Shiro Maekawa was involved with his writing in SA2, heroes and 06. Currently Prime too has done his character justice. I have to state this because I feel this is the best possible way of actually understanding Shadow as a character, so I'll mainly be touching his good characterizations and then some from his own game (not a lot however). He was silent, lonely, calm and often was in his head more than outwardly speaking out. I believe many autistic people like myself, connected to this side of him. Facing with so many adversities because of our differences from others, we become shut in and lonely too, since most autistic people don't feel as if they fit in. You can easily argue this is because of his ptsd from losing Maria, but I'd like to challenge the idea that it can easily be both and his ptsd enhances his traits.

I'll first begin with SA2, Shadow's first scene with eggman to me is quite hilarious if you put a different lens on it, the way he stand there ignoring Eggmans questions and then quickly demands Eggman to abide his rules. It puts Eggman into shock, but I think you could tie these moments that Shadow has as an autistic trait of his. Social cues are quite difficult for a lot of autistic people, and having no filter adds into this difficulty. The way Shadow ignores Eggmans questions to quickly ask him to do what he wants instead really emphasizes this point I made.

I love how he remains calm too, he doesn't yell this at Eggman and instead walks away casually and confidently. It's always been one of my most favourite moments with him. It really does make him stand out as he was able to influence Eggman to follow his wishes. If we want to talk about when he gets introduced to Sonic, I find this moment also again pretty funny in an endearing way when you put in this perspective. Sonic running to him asking Shadow to say something to speak, as Shadow stares at Sonic with silence. He's once again in his head more so than externally present, he also may be struggling to craft up a response or is at a lost with why Sonic is desperate for an answer. Conversations or socially interacting with people is challenging for most autistic people for a plethora of reasons so anything can really explain why Shadow here wasn't responding.

I've also found some of his moments when thinking of Maria (two specific moments being when Amy encourages him to help fight and the other being before Rouge approaches him to ask why he saved her), these moments he's very in tuned with his thoughts. After realizing his true promise with Maria he is in his head not responding right away to Amy, he sheds a tear and runs quickly to help and exclaims how he has to go now to keep that promise. This confuses Amy, however she doesn't stop Shadow or anything. When Rouge approaches Shadow and saying it was unexpected and unlike him to save her, he answers by saying that he didn't go to save her and was doing it for the chaos emeralds. She clearly catches on that this isn't the entire truth, this moment to me is harder to explain. But I think it's because of how he struggles to express his true intentions and feelings in the matter, similar to the Amy one before because he doesnt understand his own empathy.

Now one of if not the most obvious moments in SA2 is when Amy mistakes Shadow for Sonic, he slowly turns to look at her. Doesn't say a word or anything the entire time, and just continues to stare at her. I always loved this moment. I feel this one just speaks for itself lmao.

Now moving onto Sonic 06 moments (sorry there's not a lot in heroes tbh. There is a lot in Sonic X/Prime, Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog, and the Twitter takeovers though!) Sonic 06 main one points out how he is going to discover himself and make his own path. I've always loved this about him as a character, he's not there for anybody but himself, he knows he is different. He will embrace this about himself and not let others try to make up what he has to be. Other subtle traits in 06 are also ways in which he responds to those around him, head nods or simple "yes" responses. Again, it's his way of expressing himself in conversation that really hints at his struggles for social cues. I also adore when Rouge asks him a question and he once again demands for something, and she is like "ok cool, but you didn't answer my question?" Moments like that not only add a lot of charm to him, but something I really connected too because I do this all the time without realizing it. I think partially it's because I get stuck with my own thoughts and those questions I feel I've already got it answered for myself so it's prolly similar where that realization that you may know the answer already, but the other doesn't just doesn't click together sometimes. It could also be because he needs to get out what he needs right away to feel a sense of stability.

Sonic x just has a lot of funny moments that really make his character shine, when he crashes the plane with Espio, Vector and Charmy. He doesn't use his words and instead guides it down forcefully, I similarly do stuff like this where I struggle to express what I need or have to do so I usually just do it without saying it. This happens often when people are in the way of something I have to get to. Like if I have to throw out something for example. I also love that when Espio asks why Shadow didn't just ask, Shadow responds by saying he needs to go find Dark Oak and then just crashes straight into the wall. He really just has such a difficult time expressing exactly why he needs to do things lmao. I also love how he has a challenging time understanding instructions. Eggman asks him to do something and because to Shadow they didn't feel clear, he asks more than once for confirmation. Or when he gives the silent treatment to Rouge and she teases him about it, he just walks away without a word. Now this isn't only applied to Sonic X but Shadow has a really REALLY REAAAALLLY difficult time finding the true intentions of people, Sonic X he gets upset at Rouge and Chris for calling him out on trusting Eggman. He gets defensive and argues back at them saying that Eggman is worthy of trusting because he knows the most about him. It's all he has even though Eggman has been evidenced of tricking others around him. There's countless of other times where Shadow struggles with this, like basically every moment in his own game where he blindly trusts Black Doom. One other moment too I can't exactly remember which game it was, but Rouge was clearly lying and goes "you can trust me! really!!" And he does and then tells her absolutely everything that she wanted to hear.

Sonic prime moments are a lot less, but I do feel his way of just remaining very inwardly or to himself about things can once again be his difficulty in trusting. The way he also overanalyzes a lot of things around him as well. I also just love certain scenes like, "they're air shoes" or "hardly, I'm the ultimate lifeform" because he is blunt and took it quite literally. As he usually does in Prime, where he takes things quite seriously in general. I also feel because sonic is very VERY adhd coded in prime, it really does emphasize the contrast between the two of how someone with autism may interact with someone with adhd. In the most recent episode, he once again finds it difficult to express his protectiveness and plays it off. Or when he does compliment Sonic, he just glares at him when Sonic somewhat jokes around because it felt out of character for Shadow to do that. Even though Shadow was just being blunt about his thoughts and had a moment where he does express properly, but then his glare somewhat shows once again how he has a difficult time crafting up responses lmao.

Some more stuff but more miscellaneous, the Twitter takeovers is funny but it depends on if we want to take it as canon. He loves dry foods, adores kittens to the point he wants an orphanage (connection to animals on a deeper level), he has an organized bedtime routine, and yeah that's basically all the ones I can think of atm. These are quite explanatory I feel. Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog shows he has empathy but struggles to show it similar to basically every other moment I've described, but also just love that he can't handle computers I think that's so funny idk why. I can't even describe how it's an autistic moment for him it just feels like it. He stims with his quills a lot as well, which ugh I adore so so so much.

A lot of these things I've expressed about Shadow come from just from me loving him but also being able to see myself in him as well. I'm happy that Prime is bringing back his character to what it was, I think so many people love Shadow in the fandom simply because of how much they relate to him. He's such great representation despite it not being canon, because of how easily those can see themselves in him. I really do love Shadow and I know this is super long so if you read this, thank you and I hope you enjoyed it.

Have a cute photo of him as a reward ♡