#if i crave a character interaction i simply write it

[ghost-proofbaby]

OH SAY LESS 14 WITH ASTARION PLEASE

so this is my first time publicly writing and posting astarion, so please be gentle. higher word count solely because i felt the need to add lore because, ya know, first time writing him! also, i changed the line just a tiny bit to better fit the character and scene. ALSO, uh... this is a little fade to black. i'm sorry. it just got too long.

14. "Oh, you're hard to please."

warnings: foreplay, sorta fade to black smut (it's there if you squint your eyes), an ungodly amount of pet names, mentions of past sexual abuse and healing from it, technical game spoilers, not edited, 18+ so minors do not interact

pairings: astarion x afab!reader (no pronouns used)

wc: 4.4k+

join the smutty party! send me one of these smut dialogue prompts with a character

How long had it been since Astarion had actually enjoyed sex? Craved it, even? 

If he recalls correctly, it had to have started to become tainted well over a century ago. Somewhere between the first and the third victim, when he’d realized how every single beautiful soul he had entrapped were simply being lured to their own death. And then, the sour taste left in his mouth only became more pungent the longer it went on, the more he came to the realization of just how used he felt. His body was no longer his own – it technically hadn’t been his from the very second he’d emerged from his own grave, and Cazador had been waiting for him – and everything about the act became an old rehearsed dance that he’d grit his teeth through. A chore, something to make his stomach churn, something to regret. A means to an end. 

Plainly put, it had been a while. 

But then you happened. You, who hadn’t blinked an eye when the first time you met him, he’d literally threatened you with a gods damned blade to your throat. You, who had repeatedly trusted him, even when it had been an objectively stupid thing to do. You, who had always offered him the utmost patience and genuine understanding, to the point in which if he thought about it too hard, he’d probably cry. You, who had led your group of misfits with brain worms right into victory, with plenty of personal demons defeated along the way. 

Personal demons including Cazador. 

Maybe that’s when things changed for Astarion. He’d already fallen for you before your group had reached Baldur’s Gate, he’d already gotten to know your body intimately before ever laying eyes on that ridiculously oversized brain you somehow made look easy to defeat. But that had been different, hadn’t it? He hadn’t really wanted to do that (not meant as an offense to you – certainly not after all was said and done), but had thought he needed to. To gain your trust, to gain your protection. And in the end, it turned out he never needed to do such a thing. You’d never said it outloud, probably at risk of making him feel even more regret after you’d learned all his secrets and darkest corners, but he knew. 

And knowing that you didn’t view him as something purely sexual, as a means to an end, as an item to use – well, it had the opposite effect of his request to no longer be viewed in that light. 

“What are you doing?” he says as he quickly looks up from his current book he’d been pursuing the moment you’d entered the room. He hardly cared for the words on the page – he just needed a way to pass the hours until you were available again. 

It was a hard habit to kick. Being so codependent on you, even with the end of the world resolved and the gift of safety being handed over to him on a silver platter. 

“We received mail,” you’re grinning wickedly as you hold up an embellished envelope, delicate fingers pinching the parchment as if it were the greatest gift to ever exist. He’d argue the real gift at hand was the last three months – time spent with you, in a place he can call home. But nothing could impede on your good mood as you throw yourself down on the mattress beside him, “From Withers, of all people!” 

His brows shoot up for just a moment before his face twists up with something akin to distrust, “Withers? What in the Hells does that sack of dust and bones wan-” 

“A reunion,” you cut him off, the look on your face warning enough against his attempt at an insult. “He’s reaching out to all of us to bring us together for a celebration, to check in on everyone, let us see each other again. Apparently, we were the easiest of the bunch to find.”

Astarion quickly lets out a tut as he snaps the book shut and discards it on the bedside table closest to him, “Well, we certainly need to fix that. Soon enough all of those little shits are going to end up on our doorstep, preaching about the power of friendship and how they want to check in on us.” 

You snort at that, laying flat on your back with your hair wildly spread out in a makeshift halo behind you. The sight causes something to stir within him, his gut twisting as he watches the way your knees knock together before slowly falling apart, your legs settling down as flat as the rest of your body.

He hadn’t taken you since that night at his grave. Before the epic final battle, before the two of you had made the decision to settle down somewhere for some well-earned peace and quiet. 

The moonlight dances past the open curtains, and his breath catches in his throat at the way the blue shadows dance across your skin. It almost reminds him of the first time he’d seen you fight. It hadn’t just been the blood splattered across your cheeks that had really gotten the better of his curiosity (even if that’s what he had told you when you asked), it had been the sunlight. Those rays of gold that had mingled with your own aura of warmth after you had helped the tieflings for the first time. 

You put the sun to shame, truly. And he missed it – Gods, did he miss it – but he was content to bask in the peace of night for a few months more before he finally cut you loose from the leash to begin your next phase of adventures to find him a cure. You had promised him you would, had already dedicated plenty of free time to research, and all you really needed was his word to begin. 

He’s selfish. The two of you can find a way for him to walk in the sun once more another day; all he wants right now is to bury himself in your warmth, to slot his body between your thighs, to hear every breathy gasp and the way you’d practically sing his name-

“Star?” you’re looking up at him from an awkward angle, eyes owlish and chin tilted painfully far back as you clearly await an answer to a question he’d been too lost in a daydream to overhear, “Did you hear me?” 

He clears his throat and adjusts the pillows behind his back, keeping him propped up as he admires you, “Of course I did, darling.” 

“Then what did I just say?”

“Something about how we’re absolutely not going to this reunion, yes?” 

Your smile is nothing but patient as you flip onto your stomach. He watches the way your shorts ride up your thighs, how the top of the soft fabric bunches at your waist. His fingers practically twitch with the need to weasel their way under it, to press his cold fingertips into warm flesh and hear you preen. 

Whenever you’re ready, you had whispered to him one night shortly after saving the world. Just tell me when, and I’m yours. 

He was ready. Insatiably ready, really. 

“Very funny. I said we should go, though. It’d be nice to see everyone again, wouldn’t it? All our friends?” 

You’re still talking about this damned reunion. Astarion has half the mind to figure out a way to summon the insufferable skeleton right here, right now, and drive a dagger into his bones until he’s truly nothing but dust. Solely for the distraction. 

“Your friends, my dear,” he corrects gently, “We both know they’re only overly fond of one of us in this relationship, and it certainly isn’t the one that they repeatedly threatened to stake.” 

The furrow of your brows is impossibly cute – he knows that look of determination. It’s the same one you wore when he mentioned it was likely that the two of you would never find a cure to his condition. 

“Our friends,” you insist, “Karlach adores you, Star. And Wyll has always been proud of you, whether he told you as much or not.”

“And what of Gale?” 

Your lips twitch at that, “Gale… certainly wouldn’t stake you on sight.”

“Ah, yes,” he flourishes, trying to keep his eyes from wandering anywhere but where your hands press into your cheeks as you prop your face up to speak to him, “Not staking me. The ultimate sign of kinship.” 

Focusing is a losing battle when you roll your eyes, and he finds his mind overtaken with insatiable lust again. Imaginative ways that he could have your eyes rolling for him under different circumstances. 

“You’re not getting out of this. They are your friends just as well as mine – so argue all you want, but we’re going to the reunion.” 

“Are you sure there’s no other way I might be able to…” he pauses with intent, finally lifting one of his docile hands to your cheek, letting his finger graze the skin with a feather light touch before it travels back into the mess of your hair, “Persuade you otherwise?” 

You almost fall for it, too. Your eyes flutter shut, your head tilts into his touch as if you were starved for the connection. But even with the lack of sexual intimacy, you both know there hasn’t been a day that has gone by in the last three months where Astarion hasn’t found a way to get his hands on you.

Holding your own, resting his cheek on your shoulder, spinning you like a child in the kitchen – he had quite the sudden arsenal of romantic gestures that didn’t involve old wounds. It had been awkward here and there, some of them landing and some of them leaving you both looking like fools, but he was trying.

Almost as hard as he was currently trying to not jump your bones. 

When you recognize the innuendo for what it is, however, you harden immediately. Your shoulders set, a frown settles, and your eyes open with set determination he knows he can’t falter without speaking plainly to you. 

“No.”

“No?”

You’re quick to lift yourself up onto your knees, putting distance between yourself and his hands, “The days of weaponizing sex are over. I don’t even want to joke about that.” 

And, oh, he’s finding himself in quite the mood tonight, because as soon as you’re retracting, he’s following. As you settle on the haunches of your calves, he’s lifting up from his reclined position, leaning forward so that his face is breaths away from yours. 

“I mean it,” you warn, narrowing your eyes and holding up a finger in that small space between you two. 

He tests his luck, wasting no time in snapping his fangs just millimeters from your skin. You both know he wouldn’t actually bite you, but it still humors him to see the way you whip your hand out of his reach. 

“Were you not the one who insisted that we ask before we bite?” you snap, and his smile only worsens. Like a cheshire cat, like a child never scorned by the world – he’s radiant and basking in the moment. 

He lets out a small hmph before saying, “You’re no fun, my dear. Come on – just play with me for a moment, won’t you?” 

Your face softens at his teasing tone, and he can see the way he’s withering away your defenses one by one. There was once a time where he’d done it with malicious intent, but this time around, it’s with nothing but good intentions. 

If you asked him, he’d go as far as to swear it on his own grave. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize as if you’d done something wrong, and it makes more than half of his own playfulness drain from his face in absolute displeasure. Before he can so much as open his mouth to scold you about unnecessary apologies, you’re continuing on, “I just… After everything we’ve been through, it’s not something I find particularly joyous to joke about.”

What a rare thing, to have found someone to bare your soul and all your burdens to, and watch them offer to help you shoulder the weight without second thought or regret. 

He’s never met someone like you in all his years, and he might never again. 

“And if I told you I wasn’t joking?” he asks slowly, carefully, trying to choose each word with the utmost care, “I’m not weaponizing – I’m offering.” 

Whenever you’re ready. Just tell me when, and I’m yours.

He was ready. Very, desperately, sorely ready. 

The topic of the reunion is all but forgotten as you process his words, nose twitching as you decipher all that’s he laying out before you. “I want more than an offer.” 

“Excuse me?” 

He can’t help the small laugh that leaves him as he sits up properly, leaning into your space fully now with one hand pressing into the mattress just beside one of your thighs. He can feel the heat radiating from you, smell your blood rushing to your head as you try to be sensible. It’s a pitiful excuse for an internal war; all he has to do is close that conveniently small distance between your lips with his own, and you’ll have lost all sense of logic. 

“You’re…” you trail off, searching his eyes as if he holds the answer you’re currently looking for, “You’re sacred to me, Astarion. You must know that. And it will take much more than some joking offer to convince me to have sex with you when I know-”

“I’m not joking,” he’s nearly whining, letting his forehead fall forward to press to yours, “Gods, I am not joking about this. Cross my heart and hope to die again.” 

If he has to beg, he will. 

He’s spent two hundred years in an insufferable position of pure misery, pure shit, and the realization that he’s finally free has everything clicking into place. Proof of the change exists solely in the fact that he could have resorted to his tired old seduction routine from his life before to get what he wanted, but instead, he’s trying to just communicate. 

It was a novel moment. 

But he could appreciate it later, when the crotch of his pants wasn’t becoming increasingly uncomfortably tight and he wasn’t watching you closer than prey. When his stomach wasn’t so tight with desire and anticipation, just waiting for your word to indulge. 

“Do I need to beg?” he sighs, his lips brushing against yours ever so slightly from proximity. He catches the shiver that runs up your spine. “We both know I’m not particularly fond of it, but if I have to get on my knees for you- well, actually, that’s the entire point of what I’m asking.” 

You laugh at that, and his gut twists again, because it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever had the opportunity to hear. Something more breath than any vocality, something sharp and spelling out the loss of words on your tongue. 

Your silence is enough for him to push it all a step further. Forehead still leaning against yours, he properly presses his lips to yours this time, slotting them between softer than a feather’s caress. Finding home as he can physically feel himself steal your breath away. His fangs just barely nip your bottom lip, unintentionally but still eliciting a delicious reaction of a gasp that makes him graze you a second time just to feel the way you’re leaning into him more, becoming absolute putty in his hands. Pliable for his taking, and Gods, he wants to take you. 

Something snaps. 

All hesitation has vanished as he grabs at your hips quickly, making use of the way your brain has gone blank from a simple kiss in order to lay you out below him. He moves you with ease, incredible speed in slotting himself between your legs before he’s caging your entire body in with his own. The squeak that leaves your lips from his manhandling affects him even more than your gasps had, a low growl shaking his chest as he kisses you deeper. Tasting, begging, searching – he wants this, but he needs to know that you want this just as badly. 

Your hands find purchase on each of his shoulders, squeezing tightly as if needing something to tether yourself to. You pull him in closer for a second, eagerly returning the kiss, almost feverish in the way you drink him in. But the next, you’re pushing him away, a game of want and sensibility still clouding your judgment impossibly. 

You always were stubborn about things like morals. And, well, it wasn’t very moral to just jump right into sex with your traumatized boyfriend who had explicitly said not to view him in terms of sex, was it? 

It was Astarion’s own damn fault. 

He could have just acted like a normal person, initiated a normal conversation in which he renegotiated his boundaries. But you’ve been on his mind all day, and he’s long since proven since the very day that you met him that he has little to none impulse control. 

“My, my,” he murmurs, pulling back from the kiss, eyes wild, looking at you with even more hunger than he had the first night you’d given him a taste of your blood in camp, “You’re just an impossible thing to please, aren’t you? Do you want me near, do you want me far? Tell me, my love, what do you want?” 

He settles all his weight onto one of his forearms as the other slowly brings his hand to your side, caressing over the soft fabric of your shirt – a shirt he’s quickly realizing is actually his own. He recognizes those flowy sleeves, that lacing across the chest, the off-white tone that had seen better days. Given all its wear and tear, he’s almost sure that it’s one of his shirts he had grown most comfortable wearing during the nights of your adventures against the Netherbrain. 

It’s cute. A sort of domesticity that he can ponder over later, when your legs aren’t hanging on his hips and your breaths aren’t coming out staccato as he hovers just out of reach from you. 

“I want whatever you want,” you whisper. Your eyes flutter open, looking at him with pupils so dilated they could swallow him whole. 

“Let me be very clear, then,” he hums, cold fingers creeping their way to the hem of the shirt, slipping beneath with practiced ease to find the smooth skin of your hips below. They dance and skitter up, up, up until he’s brushing against your ribs, “I want you. I want that warm cunt of yours, I want to feel every gasp and breath as your walls squeeze around me. I want to fuck you until you’re unable to walk on your own two legs, until you can only remember my name. I want to watch you come undone, my dear, and for it to be my own undoing.”

Your lips quiver in anticipation, and he feels your thighs tighten their hold on him, “Such pretty words. And… and no ulterior motives? No sense of obligation?” 

“None at all,” he smiles, a predator closing in on his prey, “I’m choosing this. If you want it, if you’ll have me, then I’m ready, pet.” 

Pet. The nickname rolls off his tongue, and he can imagine your walls fluttering just as your eyes do. 

Your hands lift from his shoulders to bury in his hair instead. One cradling the back of his head, the other resting on the nape of his neck as you toy with a snowy curl. It unfurls him further, has him humming lowly as he dips down to recapture your lips and bring you into him even closer. Closer. He needs all and any space between the two of you to become nonexistent. To feel every inch of your skin pressed to his, to allow you to physically curl up into his chest just as you had his mind all those moons ago, to make a home in a room with your name on it already somewhere between his third and fourth rib. 

“Do you really have to doubt if I’ll have you, my love?” you mutter against his mouth, smile breaking the kiss momentarily before he’s back with a vengeance. You don’t care – you’re apparently in a chatty mood, dodging his kiss to get your last words in, “There’s been a space in my heart for you since the moment I first met yo-”

“Yes, yes, very romantic,” he interrupts urgently, suddenly tugging your shirt up, “But, truth be told, love? I’m hoping there’s a space between your legs for me at this moment.” 

You snort, eyes pinched shut as you attempt to shake your head at the ridiculousness of the words that just left his mouth. At any other moment, you might point out how the outrageous comment is just another defense mechanism, veering him away from having to acknowledge the gentle sentiment behind your own words, but now’s not the time. When you open your mouth, probably to say something exactly along those lines, he rolls his hips down against yours, pinning your lower half deep into the mattress. You feel just how hard he is through his trousers – it’s impossible to miss, but he’s deliberating being sure that you feel it as he lets the tips of his fangs sink into your bottom lip. 

The resolve of fighting against his wishes is quickly dissolved. One thing after another, and Astarion has you bare beneath him before any other distractions or annoying conversation can send the two of you further off track. Your, his, shirt is tossed to one side of the room. Your parents fly to the other side of the bed. Only once he has the entire spanse of your body nude and vulnerable to him does he take the time to pause, to look down at you with absolute adoration. 

“Gods, you’re beautiful.” 

He’s said those words to you a million times before. Consistently greeting you with them, muttering them in the dead of night, whispering them as he kisses you awake. But they never lose their weight. And certainly not now, as he’s looking down at you like it’s the first time he’s ever seen that freckle on your chest or the curve of your stomach barren before him. 

“Please, if you’re comfortable with it…” you start, voice laced with desperation, but he shakes his head. 

He’s full of interruptions tonight, “Consider me comfortable with anything unless stated otherwise for this moment, my sweet.” 

“Take off your clothes, Astarion.”

His giddy smile should annoy you. That smug satisfaction in finally, finally getting his way as he undresses himself at almost twice the speed that he had stripped you. And yet he knows you’re enjoying yourself just as much as he is. You’re reveling in drinking in the bare caricatures of his body, every inch and every curve exposed to you just as you are to him. And when his cool skin meets yours again, his body sinking right into that space between your thighs that you’ve granted to him, you let out a short gasp that reminds him that you want this just as badly as he does.

You’ve waited just as long as he has. 

It almost mirrors that night on his grave. The slow descent of his body against yours, the way he slides a leg up to spread your own even further for him as he crawls his way back home to your lips. Unlike that night, however, he isn’t taking quite as much care, his movements far faster and far more needy. 

He’s been waiting long enough. He’s denied himself long enough. 

It really doesn’t matter when the last time he had enjoyed sex had been, because all that he cares about is that here and now, in this moment with you, there’s not a trace of imperfections to taint his enjoyment. 

Cazador is dead. The brain has long since been defeated. You are both safe. 

As he sinks into your heat, the only thing on his mind is that contentment, overwhelmed with the feel and smell of just you. 

He’ll never be a slave again. Never be viewed as something to simply be used and disregarded again, if you have any say. And one day, some day, he’ll even feel the warmth of the sun again. Thanks to you.

But until that day, the warmth of your love is enough.

When you sigh his name out so delicately, jaw all but unhinging itself in bliss as your back arches in reaction to his touches, he knows he’s made the right choice. 

And he supposes he lied, in a way, earlier. 

You’re not that hard to please – not when it comes to him, at least. Not when it’s his hands trailing along your skin, not when it’s his lips and fangs nipping at every opportunity. And certainly not when it’s his name that’s being chanted like a prayer from your lips in time with every thrust, every stroke, every single movement with the sole purpose of making both of you come undone. 

Astarion no longer questions when the last time he enjoyed sex was in the aftermath of it all. With you, pressed into his side, sweaty forehead nuzzling his chest, the only thing he cares about is the next time he’ll be able to do so. 

“We’re still going to that reunion,” you murmur, half asleep, fading away from him quickly to fall into blissful unconsciousness. 

He almost doesn’t breathe in fear of disturbing you. He’ll waste the night away, laying here, still as a statue for your comfort. 

It’s no surprise when he refuses to put up a fight, instead his hand simply drawing soft stars across the back of your bare shoulder blades as he sighs, “Yes, dear. We will. Now sleep.”

“I love you.” 

The words tumble from your lips so carelessly, so easily and without hesitation, he nearly shakes you awake to hear them once more. Again and again, he needs to hear them, to be reassured that you feel for him as ardently as he does you. 

But he has the rest of your forever to hear them. So he lets you sleep, sending you away with a simple press of his lips to your temples as your breathing evens.

“And I love you, my dearest sun.”

[beevean]

I finished watching a playthrough of Mouthwashing

Beautiful experience I'm never going to touch again. I tip my hat at the sound design which in some parts made me nauseous (cutting Curly's leg most of all)

And the writing is commendable for so many aspects. The characterization of the crew, the out-of-order timeline that keeps the mysteries and build tension, the subtext of every line... but I want to praise most of all how realistic Jimmy's misogyny is.

In most stories I've experienced, the "sexist" character is nothing more than a caricature who walks around with a flashing neon "I FUCKING HATE WOMEN/MEN" sign. They exist to be a strawmen to be made a lesson of (or to be "cool", in some misandrists' cases), but they're not really characters.

Jimmy's sexism against Anya is realistic. He never outright says that she's lesser for being a woman. But every interaction with her shows how little he values her. He makes a jab at her never being admitted to medical school, but doesn't quite finish his sentence. He hijacks her role as Curly's nurse because she's too "sensitive" (that and perhaps his deep-seated desire of having power combined with his guilt). She never features in his guilt-induced delusions: Daisuke, who was mercy killed by Swansea after Jimmy endangered him, does, but Anya, who obviously killed herself out of trauma? Nah. But, what features is a womb-like thing with a "baby" in it, and the baby's cries can be heard even before, in the cemetery. The baby itself is seen as the real issue when Jimmy and Curly talk before the crash - even Curly doesn't seem to give a single shit about Anya's trauma, but simply wants to help Jimmy with the mess he made. I bet that, had he never impregnated her, no one would have cared.

Anya is not on the same levels at the others. Not intellectually, and not in dignity. Jimmy doesn't need to spell it out. Hell, while we don't see the rape happening, and it's not even outright confirmed but kept hush-hush as it often happens, it does fit Jimmy's craving for power. That is his fatal flaw. He loves to control others and have power over their lives, he just doesn't like dealing with the consequences of his actions. Plus, we see the way he speaks to the young, impressionable Daisuke, manipulating him into doing what he wants: who says he didn't employ the same tactics with Anya, who might as well be a child to him? (this is assuming he didn't just spike a drink, since he seemed to be very ready to go through that route when it came to Swansea...)

Beautiful writing. I shall now proceed to have nightmares about the red sea :)

[changbunnies]

Crave, Part 1 (18+)

♡ Pairing: Romantic Demon!Hyunjin x Human Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: supernatural au, demon au, age gap relationship typical in monster fucker fics, intended to be porn with plot but atm there is more plot than porn lol

♡ Word Count: 3.6k

♡ Summary: "The more a thing is perfect, the more it feels pleasure and pain." - Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy. In which Hyunjin, a demon from the nine circles of hell, finds himself impossibly infatuated with the very human he once set upon himself to destroy.

♡ Warnings: don’t read if you’ll be uncomfortable over talks about religion from the perspective of a demon!, themes of sexual purity in the context of religion, a lot of immoral behavior and thoughts + ideas from hyunjin, supernatural abilities, themes of possesiveness, the seven deadly sins are brought up multiple times, hyun is thousands of years old so take that as you will lol, hell's structure is based off dante alighieri's depiction of it in the divine comedy but knowledge of it isn't necessary to enjoy this fic!

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): there isn't really any overt smut in this first part it's more like referenced sexual activity, masturbation, voyeurism (hyun is watching reader while they're unaware he is there), porn watching

♡ Notes: after receiving feedback, i'll now be posting my long fics in multiple parts as i finish them like i do on ao3 instead of waiting until it's finished to post here! i'm taking a break from my royal au series to finally write out this fic i've had rattling in my brain since last september but never got around to writing until this past month :') idk how long this will be in the end but i'm planning at least 3 parts! i hope you stick around till the end <3

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

There are many things in this world, the world of humans, that even a monster such as Hyunjin was born to desire. A primal want, weaved into the very fabric of his being, designed to be etched into his soul- if he had one, that is. That is what initially brought him here; the heart of one of the world's most populated cities, his territory an otherwise unoccupied luxury suite in one of the many skyrises that line the bustling streets.

It was an ideal place to be; there wasn't much in the way of furniture, given that it's a new development with no human occupants, but the amenities it held were sleek and pristine. High windows that overlooked the entirety of the city rife with sin from what was nearly the top floor, marble countertops that screamed sophistication and elegance, and well equipped with security of both the physical and digital kind to keep out those who may want to chase the thrill of wandering where they do not belong. Hyunjin, who could simply float about wherever he wished, had no need for human things like beds or sofas.

In this space, he already had everything he needed- an ideal vantage point, isolation from the world until he himself chose to interact with it, and easy access to the myriad of damned soul that walked the streets beneath him. It was perfect, and it was his- until you showed up.

Hyunjin was no stranger to dealing with potential renters overtaking his territory- it was only natural for those with wealth to be ready to spend a fortune on the newest availble luxury apartment that catches their eye. While Hyunjin had never once been seen; he was certainly known; rumors abound of an evil presence in suite 13, that left even non-believers fleeing in terror, leaving as quickly as they came. "Evil" felt a bit extreme of a description from Hyunjin's perspective, but what would humans truly understand of him? 

He always felt as if his actions were completely justified; after all, why should a being with immense power such as him bend to the will of a measely human whose life was akin to a grain of sand in the desert of immortality that was his own lifespan? Regardless of his justifications and thoughts on what is evil and what isn't, he welcomed the fear humans have towards him- it made his life easier if they feared him and stayed far from his domain. 

And yet here you were, seemingly ignorant of the fearful reputation this apartment held (not that he expected that the building's landlord would have informed you of it, of course- their only goal is money, at the end of the day.) Hyunjin didn't care for the rules of humans- whether or not you'd supplied the necessary money to purchase your way here or were deserving of it made no difference to him. It was his until he decided otherwise, and you were trespassing on his territory by being here.

When he'd first arrived back after a long outing back in his home within the second circle of the nine hells, only to see you filling his space with your things, walking about the apartment as if you owned it, blissfully unaware of his presence- it was infuriating. He had half a mind to scare you out right then, forever scar you by showing you his true form, send you running as he'd done to countless before you who tried to be here. But no, that wouldn't be enough. It would be letting you off too easily for his liking; this was different than scaring off someone who might intrude on his home- you already had.

What he wanted was more than his territory back- he wanted to make you suffer the most egregious torment one could ever endure for intruding on it, something far worse and much harsher than whatever a demon below his stature could muster. You deserved worse than that of mild terror, or to be able to flee from his space without repercussions for your transgression. No, he would only take back what was his after he'd turned your mind into a den of paranoia and hysteria. You needed to know true terror, true loss, true suffering, by his hand.

So he settled for observing you- it would be a longer process, one that could easily take months to reach true fruition, but the reward would be well worth his patience. He watched carefully, intently, his presence always concealed but unmistakably there. You would feel it sometimes, unbeknownst to yourself. A sudden chill up your spine, the subtle feeling of being watched making you turn your head, only to be met with nothing unusual in your line of sight. Funny, how humans were so attuned to the supernatural while simultaneously being so oblivious to their reality.

Your routines became committed to his memory, your every step and every action becoming increasingly familiar to him. Boring at times, but necessary if he wanted to learn the ins and outs of what makes you you, taking in every detail and memorizing them fully, so that when the day comes for him to turn your life into a miserable tragedy, forming you into a shell of who you once were, you'd have to beg him for forgiveness, for his mercy.

What were your fears? He'd easily make them reality. What did you hate? He'd make sure you suffered it. What broke your heart? He'd subject you to that pain over and over, until your heart was left shattered into a million, microscopic pieces. And it was only then, when you were mentally destroyed, the lowest you could ever possibly be and unrecognizable in your despair, that he'd appear before you, triumphant as he made you apologize for ever having stepped foot in his domain.

But as he observed you, he came to realize something strange- something he had never once found himself thinking about a human before. You were so... good, the closest to perfection a human could ever possibly be. And not perfect by the bullshit puritan standards set by the "heavenly creator," because you were as touched by sin as any human is, but perfect to him specifically.

Your sins were few and far between, with only one making a substantial impact on your purity; but it was the most important, most delicious sin of them all, the one that made Hyunjin's body seethe with delectable desire. You weren't envious, nor greedy or gluttonous; you lived in a luxurious penthouse suite, that was true, but greed to have the best of everything isn't what brought you here. The pride you felt for your accomplishments didn't go anywhere near sinful levels- you were proud of yourself, but not in such a way that you looked down on others while you sat atop your high horse.

You weren't slothful, brought to your current position by your own hard work and tireless efforts, and you weren't wrathful either, your emotions toward your fellow man always sweet, compassionate, and gracious. That only left one sin- just one that impacted your soul, that barred you from reaching true, godly purity.

Lust.

It wasn't an unhealthy amount of lust by any means, but any at all is enough to damn an unmarried woman's soul if she gives in to the temptation- an unfair ruling that has cost many their rightful place in paradise. And you certainly did give in to your temptation, and that is what made you perfect to him. You had none of the avarice of other humans, none of the undesirable qualities that made them foolish and arrogant and insufferable to deal with, instead held closely by one desire, the most important desire.

Was it a coincidence, he wondered? That he, a demon born of lust himself, found one such human that seemed to adhere perfectly to what he enjoys most? Hyunjin often felt himself above that of the sins his brothers were born to pursue. Violence did not suit him, emotions such as greed, pride, and jealousy often went beyond his comprehension. And not because he was some lowly, ignorant creature who was only capable of thinking with his dick, but because those feelings simply never came to him to begin with.

What was there to be jealous of? If he wanted something, he could have it, he could take it, as simple as that. Was he prideful? Sure, one could say he was, say that he had an ego, but he would argue that there was a clear difference between the arrogance that often comes with pride, and simply having confidence in one's own abilities and joy in their accomplishments.

He knew he could feel other emotions, indulge in other sins, if his brothers' conquests and actions were any tell, but he simply.. didn't. Lust was all he knew, was all that he enjoyed, but at the same time, he wasn't some low level demon who was consumed by lust. No, he could control it quite easily if he wished, was more than capable of waiting for the most ideal moment to finally savor in the addictive dance two bodies can share. (Or more than two bodies, should one prefer that.)

Lust was all he ever knew, but unlike the sex-starved beasts he ruled over and observed in his circle within hell, he was very much in control of himself. Make no mistake, it never went away, he always felt the gnawing craving for more and more and more- but it never addled his mind. That was the perk of being a demon with a higher consciousness than that of say.. an imp. He had complete control of his compulsions and desires. 

It was this control over himself that led to Hyunjin savoring the lust that poured from human souls in only the most ideal conditions. There were many different kinds of lust, each with their own "taste" so to speak, and while Hyunjin found them all enjoyable to at least some degree, there was one in particular that was the most intoxicating to him, one that never failed to light a fire within him, the one that was always, always, worth waiting for.

The lust between two lovers, whose care for eachother was true, and good, and special- such as you would see from couples sleeping together for the first time, full to the brim with nervous excitement. Or maybe from long-time lovers reigniting their spark with a romantic night spent together after a warm, candlelit date. Especially delectable was the sweet consummation after making an eternal promise under God to be together forever, in sickness and in health, 'til death do you part. Those are just a few examples of the sort of lust that gave Hyunjin the best, sweetest taste.

The irony of being an immoral entity who gained the most enjoyment out of love and romance wasn't lost on him, but his preferences weren't built on some misconceived notion that he could aspire to feel those things himself. Yes, Hyunjin knew he would never feel the human emotion that was love, but he could understand, at least on a superficial level, why it tasted so sweet, and why humans seemed to fight for that feeling above all else.

Perhaps he existed to be a hypocrite, sowing seeds of chaos and turmoil while valuing true love, contradicting that which humans believed they knew about demons of lust such as himself. After all, was it not the very nature of a demon to confuse, contradict, and twist the human condition? And was it not utterly against his being to indulge in a feeling that was considered sacred by God? It didn't matter either way; if there was one thing that Hyunjin knew for certain, it was that sweet tastes were the best, and it didn't matter where it originated from or how- he just knew he liked it.

And oh, how his proverbial heart jolted when he sensed it on you the first time he saw you touching yourself. It was a surprise when, after a long day of unpacking and arranging furniture, you let your hand travel sinfully between your legs with a heady sigh- and far be it from Hyunjin to deny himself the opportunity to feed on a human's lust when it's practically being delivered to him on a silver platter. You hadn't been touching yourself for long, barely got your panties down your legs when he tasted it- subtle, but familiar enough to Hyunjin that he could recognize it anywhere.

It was hard to explain the sweet taste in human terms- there were really no words that could come close to describing it, as the "flavor" itself didn't exist within human understanding. Suffice it to say, it was something entirely unique to his kind, and something any demon would be able to distinguish with ease should they be in close enough proximity. It was unmistakable- you loved someone. That was information that could serve him well, something that he should be delighted to know he could ruin you with. And yet, for the first time in all his thousands of years, the feeling of lustful love left a bitter taste on his tongue.

You were in love.. And you envisioned that person while your fingers were buried between your legs, as you bit your lip and made your eyes roll to the back of your skull. Who was it? Why did you love them? Were they even deserving of someone as perfect as you? Did they deserve to touch you? To feel you? Hyunjin grit his teeth, fists clenching into tight balls as an unfamiliar feeling began to permeate through the entirety of his being.

Is this.. what envy feels like? A rage beyond comprehension at the thought of someone else having you when it should be him? He should be the one you desired to have touching you, the one you imagined marking your unmarred skin, the one who made you cry out and tremble with even the simplest of touches. Would they even indulge in the sweet taste you radiate like he would? Would they even understand what perfection it is you offer simply by being? His, you should be his, only his, his, his.

The realization hit Hyunjin like cold water over hot skin- he wants you. And not just for one night, not superficially, not with needing to part ways afterwards. He wants you to love him, wants the feeling of love-drenched lust that radiates off you to be because of him, wants you to belong to him and him alone. You don't know him yet, but you will. And he'll make sure you're left wanting him, and only him, by any means necessary. Because it's what he wants, and he always gets what he wants.

Hyunjin wants to say it's simple curiosity that leads him to carefully stealing your phone off your nightstand once you've fallen asleep, or that's acting with the desire to know how to ruin the target of his ire more succinctly, but that simply isn't true. No, he is scrounging through your phone not with the intent to learn your greatest fears and hates, nor does he scour your messages to discover your darkest secrets.

It's a different purpose that has led him here, an unfamiliar ache that drives him to search your phone for something more. In hindsight, going through your phone to learn about you is a simple, easy act he could've, should've, done already, but he's a bit of a traditionalist in that regard. (Or maybe he just doesn't want to admit how much he's liked watching you these past few weeks.)

Who is that you love? And why? It would've been easier for him to find out had you truly let yourself go, allowed yourself to be loud and moan their name to your heart's content, but you hadn't. And maybe that was a good thing, as hearing someone else's name leave your lips in such a moment would've definitely sent him into a dangerous hate spiral, but that also meant he was left with nothing to go on as a clue.

He was much too stunned, and then seething with anger and jealousy, to read your thoughts in the moment, and if he tried to do so now, while you were sleeping, all he would do is catch a glimpse of your dreams- not helpful in the slightest, unless you happen to be dreaming of the object of your desire. (Which you weren't. He already looked.)

Unlocking your phone is easy, as he's seen you put in your password several times over at this point. Unfortunately for him however, (and fortunate for the one undeserving of Hyunjin's wrath,) he finds nothing that makes the object of your affection explicitly obvious. Your texts with friends all use the same tone, you talk about mundane things like what movies are coming out or how you wish you could go on a vacation for a while.

Your photo gallery is relatively small, filled mostly by screenshots of things you wish to remember or keep for a laugh, and the occasional selfie. There's nothing that screams "this is the person i'm in love with!" no matter where in your phone he looks, and if it wasn't for how intensely he felt the emotion radiating from you as your fingers sped up and release built, he'd think he must have imagined it.

What interesting this he does find, however, are the differen't porn links littered through your incognito tabs, all that paint a very vivid picture of what you find most appealing, or in more vulgar terms, what gets your pussy really fucking wet. He skims through your collection of favorites and private bookmarks, and quickly comes to realize they all hold a similar theme- love, romance, and doms who are soft even when being rough with the sub's body or speaking condescending words.

Various videos and audio files, with titles such as "roommate gets railed after confessing her secret feelings," "pov: boy next door accidentally confesses and then fucks you passionately," and "soft dom makes his good girl cum hard: boyfriend asmr." There's even an entire erotic movie, much to Hyunjin's surprise, with a 2 hour run time and dedicated plot in your recent bookmarks.

He decides to watch it, for research purposes of course- what better way to get to know the object of his desire than by watching the porn she consumes for himself? It's rather generic as far as ideas go- childhood best friends confessing their love before going away to college, with sweet, sensual but desperate fucking and a promise they'll be in love no matter the distance put between them. A cliché plot, by human media standards. 

However, he has to give it due props- it's obviously not an amateur production. It's acted well, has better cinematography than one might expect for a film produced by a porn studio, and the dialogue never crosses into cringe, overtly fake territory. Despite it all, something about it feels real, as if he'd taken a genuine glimpse into the lives of two young people in love, rather than a manufactured video meant to make the people who watch it unbearably horny.

Hyunjin continued through your collection after that, eager to see what other gems lied in your favorites, waiting to be watched by him. They're all the same fundamentally speaking, your preferences and biases easily shining through with each video watched and audio listened to. Emotionally charged, romantic confessions, sweet "i love you"s, soft, caring doms who take good care of the submissive one, making them feel desired, beautiful, and secure.

The person you're in love with, the one who lingers in your mind when you watch these videos and your hand travels between your legs- this is what you want them to do. You want them to love you passionately, to make you fall apart in the sweetest of ways, to take care of you so well that your thoughts can linger on nothing but the way they make you feel. You want them to sweetly tell you they love you while they fuck you, to speak filthy words in your ears in a soft, saccharine voice as they make you cum. To fuck you dumb, to ruin you, and then expertly put you back together with a tender touch. 

Carefully, he puts your phone back in its place, looking at you once he's done, still sound asleep in your bed and without a clue in the world that there's a demon standing before you, close enough to touch. You've lived with Hyunjin for weeks now, but you don't know who he is, don't know that he's there, don't know that you have unexpectedly become the reason for a demon's strange and new complex emotions. Isn't it funny? How a demon as powerful as him has become infatuated with you despite you not even knowing he exists.

It's illogical to desire you, truly. Humans are fickle, subject to corruption and irrationality, their lives impossibly short. What one man works his entire life to obtain, Hyunjin can have in mere moments with a fraction of the effort. To a being that has lived thousands of years, the life of a human happens in a mere blink. You grow old, you get sick, you die, your accomplishments fade to nothing, forgotten as the next wave of humans walk the earth in your stead. You're beneath him, he's better than you, and yet..

Why does he still crave you so? Maybe he's no better than the humans he's looked down upon, considering them lesser for their innate hypocrisies and irrational actions- because Hyunjin is about to do just the same. His feelings for you are hypocritical, irrational, foolish, but also the most real thing he's ever felt. And if it's romance you want, that will make you fall head over heels for him, then he'll be the most romantic demon the nine hells have ever known.

[kcokaine]

I just want to say that your Au's and art is so thought provoking and intriguing beyond "Ooh, gay porn!" Seeing someone put so much thought and consideration into their characters as well as the characterization and dynamics within such a niche rarepair is a fresh of breath air among so many others who's manga literacy is infantile. I don't know how you think of this stuff or what your creative writing/drawing process is, but it's honestly so great.

You've picked my brain in such a good way and inspired me to get back into art and analyze the manga I consume more. I hope with more time and practice I too, can put fictional characters through gay, well thought out, trauma.

Thank you for being peak :)

P.s. When you said that Sukuna was incapable of love, did you mean that he couldn't feel or give love at all in any capacity, or did you mean that he's incapable of loving in the same way and capacity that we and other characters do? The way I've always interpreted his character is that the "love" he feels is respect and interest, particularly when a person is strong or entertaining enough to either challenge him or pique his curiosity. I'm a little delusional when it comes to Sukuna so I'd love to hear a second opinion on this topic if you don't mind!

Hello thank you very much. I appreciate your positive criticism of my work ❤️ makes my day everytime i see people enjoy my stuff to such degree. Thats the motivation after all.

When it comes to sukuna’s love. Its the latter. He can’t feel love like any other human can cuz he is so far gone but i believe every human being (sukuna being a human being no mattter how people precieve him or he precieves himself) craves love and contact with people, no human can exist alone not even Sukuna. He is simply so broken he thinks he doesnt need anyone but if you notice, he seeks interaction through battling people, through battling people equal to him especially, thats where he gets the most passionate. Therefore thats his way of craving contact, craving love. His affection is possesive and animalistic, carnal love. Unhealthy obsession kind of love, that only damages the other person but Sukuna is still selfish, he only cares about himself, even if love subconsciously makes you care about the other. There sukuna is no exception either. He is subconsciously compassionate to Gojo many times, thats where i find it beautiful cause you know its the truest kind of feeling from him. Sukuna would never lie about his feelings he is always 100% honest about everything but he is still very complicated with how he expresses it, thats the toxicity in it. He is hard to read

[suzannahnatters]

A while back I realised that there's one specific fictional thing that is catnip to me, and that is vulnerability. People accuse me of liking dire things in stories, but it's not so much that I love it when fictional people are suffering. It's that I kind of crave vulnerability in my protagonists.

I would define vulnerability as the opposite of agency. At its core, it involves a denial or a willing sacrifice of agency, and while writers talk about agency a lot, I don't think we spend anywhere near enough time discussing vulnerability.

Vulnerability is incredibly powerful in building empathy with a character, but it also forces the character into dire choices that reveal their true nature, and it makes the antagonistic forces seem a lot more powerful and scary. Vulnerability is why whump is appealing. It's one of the reasons we all care so much about out good fried Jonathan Harker, utterly at Dracula's mercy. It's why the myth of the voluntarily dying god is so powerful, even if you aren't a Christian.

More recently, I've been thinking a whole lot about how important vulnerability is in constructing a believable romance. In a believable romance, the characters will be emotionally vulnerable to, and on behalf of, one another. The "if you dare touch her" trope where the love interest comes unhinged at the sight of a loved one's suffering is vulnerability. Enemies to lovers is delicious because it asks what might happen if the person to whom you're most vulnerable was also the one with the greatest interest in exploiting that vulnerability. As I've written before, romance is about trust; and the corollary is that no romance can live without that heartstopping moment when one character takes the risk of putting themselves helplessly into the power of the other.

But I think that a lot of storytellers these days are prioritising agency at the cost of vulnerability. Disney's attempts at feminism are a great example of this. While the animated MULAN is outed as a woman in a moment of vulnerability that was the most powerful thing in the movie for me, in the live action Mulan's unmasking becomes a expression of agency that in my opinion guts the story of feeling. On the other hand, in the cdrama I'm currently watching (GOODBYE, MY PRINCESS) the male lead is SO averse to letting himself be vulnerable in any way at all that I simply can't find any romance in his interactions with the heroine. I love to see stories that foreground marginalised people, but too often those stories focus on giving the protagonist agency at the cost of letting the antagonist land any hits at all. The result, imo, is a perfectly soulless story.

Of course, agency is a sine qua non of a good protagonist. But so is vulnerability, and there are so many amazing stories you can write about a vulnerable protagonist. W R Gingell's CITY BETWEEN series, for instance, is the story of a desperately vulnerable protagonist fighting to claim some agency in her own life and it's GLORIOUS. And beyond that, I would say that moments of vulnerability are indispensable even to very strong protagonists. One of the reasons FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST worked so gorgeously as a story for me, for instance, was the gutpunch moments of vulnerability that happened both at the very start and then with increasing tempo toward the end.

Vulnerability can be something a protagonist constantly struggles with, or something that unexpectedly blindsides someone who seemed to be invincible, or something a character does willingly for the sake of the people they love. It can be romantic, or not at all. But either way it's the interplay of agency and vulnerability that really MAKES a story for me. You HAVE to have both.

[summerpearlgirl]

Analysis of the Character Traits of Colin Bridgerton

I have already posted about the strengths and challenges of the character traits that Colin and Penelope share.

Here I will discuss Colin's character traits of charm and sensitivity. Spoilers throughout.

1. Charm

Strengths:

Empathy: He has a strong intuition for what other people crave with the briefest of interactions. Colin understands the debutantes feel insecure about their looks and ability to secure a husband, so he compliments their beauty and suggests many men will be competing for them S3E1.

Ease at social occasions: Colin was involved in the Marina pregnancy scandal and the Featherington ruby scandal, yet at the start of each social season he walks “back into society with such ease”.

Challenges:

Superficiality: Charming people may be perceived as rakish or uncaring. The S3E1 Lady Whistledown article about Colin is an example of this.

Difficulty building deep connections: Charming people may find it challenging to form meaningful relationships. Colin is disappointed by the shallowness of the rakish Lord Squad in S3E4.

2. Sensitivity

Strengths:

Compassion: His sensitivity leads to a compassionate nature, making him a caring and supportive friend and family member. When Colin is informed by Pen of the hurt she felt when she overheard him declaring he would never court her at the Featherington Ball, Colin is quick to give her a very compassionate apology and offer to help her feel more at ease at social occasions. This post by rainybraindays inspired me to write this post today.

Creativity: His sensitivity fuels his creativity, allowing him to express himself in imaginative ways. For example, Colin’s sensitivity to his travel experiences fuels his journal writing.

Challenges:

Overwhelm: Sensitivity can sometimes lead to feeling overwhelmed by strong emotions or negative experiences. Colin was an overwhelmed wreck after seeing Pen dance with Debling at the Innovation Ball.

Difficulty setting boundaries: Colin struggles to set boundaries, leading to people-pleasing and overgiving behaviour. Colin tries to please Anthony and society by “trying to feel less. Trying to be the kind of man society expects me to be.” Violet’s talk with Colin on the stairs in S3E4 warns him that he should not allow the people-pleasing armor to rust or he will be trapped and miserable forever.

Ruminating: Sensitivity can lead to overthinking and ruminating on negative thoughts or experiences. Colin ruminates for over a year after Marina’s pregnancy was revealed in Whistledown.

Quote of Pen appreciating Colin's charm and sensitivity S3E7:

Penelope: “I was thinking that I simply wanted the Colin I know back. Not this stoic man you returned as. Acting as if you care for no one and need nothing. It's you, kind and feeling, occasionally excitable, good-hearted man that I love.” 💙

[andrewwtca]

the Aubrey problem (or how Omori's writing failed her)

Also available to read on Archive of our Own.

I really like video games. If the fanfiction, theory posts, and occasional essays weren’t enough, here’s me saying it—I really like video games! They’re a conversation between writing, art, music, and human interaction, between the player, the game, and the characters in them. Of course, not all games have all of that, some being only text-based, some being lifeless wastelands, but whatever they end up choosing to work with, they often do something amazing.

Sunny is one of my favorite protagonists in any realm of media—video game, movie, book—and he genuinely changed the way I view the world. Not just him, but the entire world built around him, Headspace and its charming inhabitants and the wondrous sights and music, the creative bosses that leave so much insight, the beautiful overworld that is Faraway and a nostalgic look into what we leave behind, and what we return to.

So that’s why I’m so disappointed I don’t like Aubrey.

This game blew my mind away when I first saw it—my first experience with the game wasn’t even my own playthrough, but sitting through a 20-hour longplay!—and I lost so many hours of sleep twisting and turning and trying to make peace with the grief it left me feeling. And after finishing, I realized that its flaws were plenty, but not enough to drag me out of my enjoyment. But Aubrey? Aubrey didn’t make me feel the way I knew she was supposed to.

That frustrated me, especially as I became a bigger and bigger fan of the game. I had no qualms about liking her archetype, the feminine bully with a tragic backstory, and yet I do with her.

As someone who craves literary analysis and in-depth looks into every media I consume, I just needed to know: what made me dislike Aubrey?

And after over two years of being a fan of the game, I’ve finally figured it out: it’s a good mixture of 1) lack of explanation, 2) rushed self-awareness, and 3) lackluster narrative choices. And I’ve found the words I needed to explain these concepts, so please join me on my messy journey to understanding what went wrong with Aubrey.

preface

If you’re an Aubrey apologist, this essay is not for you. I’ve heard plenty of arguments about why Aubrey was actually in the right, not limited to “Basil deserved it,” and, “Aubrey was hurting too,” so I’d like to begin by stating that Aubrey was a bully very clearly.

Rejecting the notion that she actively harmed others is rejecting a core component of understanding her character. Before we dive into her character and how the writing failed her character arc, I would like us all to be on the same page: she physically, verbally, and socially bullied Basil. It was not Basil’s fault, and it will never be a victim’s fault to get bullied. She is not the victim of her own crime, just like how Sunny is not the victim of Mari’s death, and Basil is not the victim of Mari’s hanging. We, as the player, are to recognize their responsibilities in their actions. The same must be extended to Aubrey.

Some people feel the need to deny this aspect of her character to justify her actions and/or justify liking her. Firstly, the purpose of this essay isn’t to villainize anyone for liking Aubrey. I’m simply analyzing what was attempted with her character and why it didn’t strike a chord with me and so many others. Secondly, as Kel wisely said, “Just because you did something bad, doesn't make you a bad person.” I’m not here to say that Aubrey is a bad person—no, nobody in Omori is ‘good’ or ‘bad’ and labeling characters as such is taking away the nuance they possess. And I’m certainly not saying liking a character who did something bad makes you bad, either!

Liking Aubrey is in no way a problem (which makes me a tad bit sad that I need to clarify), and I’ll even go as far as to say kudos to you, but if you bend and twist to stop her from holding any responsibility for her actions, that’s when problems arise. Basil is a fictional character and won’t care if you think it was his fault he was bullied, but for the people around you who may have been in similar positions to him?

And lastly, I want to say that if you cite sexism as the reason people don’t like Aubrey… actually, this is the perfect transition into the analysis.

gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss

Femme bullies are not a new phenomenon. Perhaps it’s the break from the stereotypical sweet feminine girl that makes them so fascinating, using their femininity to not sing to animals or wish for a man, but pull down others and advance their status.

I, for one, adore the femme bully trope. Especially if they’re one who used to be extremely kind and underwent some sort of ‘fall from grace’ that led to a bastardization. But, as for all bullies, if they are left without a proper backstory and motivation, I’m turned off from them. Most humans are not mean just because they can be but rather are products of how they were raised. When these causes are ignored, the trope falls flat, and instead of being a good reconstruction, it’s a flat stereotype.

The best way to analyze this is by comparing Aubrey’s character to good examples of femme bullies in the past. Specifically, I’m picking my favorites: Asuka from Neon Genesis Evangelion, Nanami from Revolutionary Girl Utena, and Sophie from The School for Good and Evil. I’m going to do a quick (and a bit sarcastic) overview of their characters in their respective media, but a quick warning for suicide in Asuka’s overview, and animal cruelty in Nanami’s.

Asuka is a pilot for one of the mechas, the Evangelion, and she always thought of herself as better than everyone. Well, of course, she would: she studied hard, worked harder than everyone around her, and she’s just naturally talented. And yet, she’s still always threatened by others and how they can ruin her status. Specifically, for the course of the show, she targets Shinji—he’s this nobody from nowhere who could suddenly pilot an Eva, while she had to fight her whole life to get here! How is that fair? And what has that asshole been through anyway? Did he have to see his mother’s corpse after she committed suicide as a small child? Did he fight for his mother’s love his entire life just for her to kill herself? Does he have to fight for male attention just so he isn’t thrown aside? No, of course not! So how is any of it fair?

Nanami is the sister to the wonderful student body president Touga, and she wants nothing more than his attention. And with her being the youngest of the cast, one cannot be mad at her for not understanding the severity of violence and finality of death, so her anger as a small child with a kitten whom Touga adored is also understandable. One simply cannot be mad at her for drowning it. So, of course, you cannot blame her for wanting to punish the ever-elusive Anthy and Utena, who Touga has become fixated on. What does Anthy or Utena have that Nanami doesn’t? They’re stupid girls, not Touga’s sister. No matter what, Nanami is going to win her brother’s affection (and in her pursuit, ignore how horribly he’s been manipulating her the entire time).

And Sophie is the Witch of Woods Beyond, capable of powerful spells beyond the imagination, from a place that few know of. And she wants nothing more than for her own fairy-tale ending—why do all the princesses around her get princes and castles and beautiful dresses, and she’s doomed to being hideous and alone for the rest of her life? Who decided that for her? She’s beautiful, after all, so she should be a princess! It doesn’t matter who stands in the way of her happily ever after; especially not if it’s Agatha, her lifelong best friend. No matter what, Sophie will not end up like her mother who died all alone, with her husband forgetting her and moving on. Sophie will be loved, no matter who she has to hurt.

What do they all have in common? Firstly, they’re all girls. As stated, femme bullies are different from masc bullies, especially as they reveal aspects of femininity and womanhood in general that many people—see, a male audience—will neglect to face, and overall uncover sexism that's still present in both media and society. Secondly, they’re all bullies, and they targeted someone in particular who they saw as detrimental to their happiness. And thirdly, they all had specific upbringings that conditioned them to have their ‘falls from grace’. What is this third, unidentified thing?

Mommy issues!

(Sorry, I know Nanami technically has a brother complex, but I just wanted to say mommy issues.)

A pattern has been developed with all of these girls. They all start fairly, what one can call, ‘feminine’ or at least, per standard stereotypes. They’re gentle and sweet and shine when needed. And they all have a ‘fall from grace’—a moment, or sequence of moments, that leads them to reject traditional femininity and embrace a more vengeful version of it. And a final moment, where they are faced with their opposite, who represents all that they do not have.

Asuka was sweet and kind and bubbly until her mother killed herself. After that, she dedicated herself to her studies and getting adult male attention through means of the over-sexualization of herself. And then, she began to bully Shinji.

Sophie was sweet and kind and bright until her mother died. After that, she idolized her mother’s false display of femininity and became obsessed with becoming a princess. And then, at the School for Evil, she began to bully Agatha.

Nanami was assumedly sweet—she deviates from this pattern slightly, being built off assumptions of a good past rather than showcases—until she was brought into this family and became obsessed with her brother and was manipulated by him. After that, she became desperate for his attention, fighting any other who could take it. And then, she began to bully Utena (and Anthy.)

While Nanami does deviate from this pattern, they all have clear origins. They were not bullies from the start. As aforementioned, in the face of an adversary, the majority of people do not turn to hurting one another. Something in their pasts, their ‘falls from grace’, was the foundation of their actions, what led them to believe what they were doing was okay. It’s not justification—it's a much-needed explanation. After all, if you do not understand, how can you empathize?

Still, you may fail to see my point. The game has lots of hints of Aubrey’s troubled upbringing. And that’s exactly what the problem is. These girls have clear origins while Aubrey’s is muddled.

Of course, I don’t expect Omori to have spoon-fed me details of her past. You can put the pieces together by walking through her home and seeing bottles laid on the ground. But, even in a game dependent on nuance and having the player put certain things together, it’s better to leave things out directly rather than to work a way around.

To build up a good femme bully, we need a good origin story. What happened to her that made her turn to violence? Why should we care? We know Aubrey probably had a troubled childhood. But the game doesn’t supply enough. It leaves too much to fill in the blanks. I know that Asuka saw her mother’s corpse, I know that Sophie was forced into a misogynistic viewpoint upon her mother’s death, and I know that Nanami was manipulated to hell and back. I know what these girls have been through so I know why they ended up walking their paths.

But the game simply doesn’t reveal enough about Aubrey. Fan speculation is not enough. Canon interpretation should not be confused with fan interpretation—according to the fans, Aubrey’s father is a deadbeat, and her mother is an abusive, neglectful alcoholic. According to the game? Aubrey’s dad is “strict”, and her house is an absolute disaster. The house is one of the biggest clues as to Aubrey’s childhood, and while some may praise this as ‘showing and not telling’, the game never tries to make workarounds for the other characters (which I will dig deeper into later). I can assume what happened in her house but it’s not my job to find ways to empathize with the character; that is the story’s job.

This is the first of Omori’s three sins and we haven’t even scratched the surface.

actions speak more than words, or something like that

I recently saw a post that I thought would make a good intro for this section. It’s an apologist post for Aubrey, discussing how the game did treat her with just enough harshness—that because she’s been beating herself up, because she’s suffered a public breakdown, because it took kindness to help her heal, it’s proof of her regret. There’s some good Basil blaming in there too, with a strange turn saying that she refused to leave Basil’s house because of her willingness to turn over a new leaf. And it ends with a weird claim that she was a “good person all along,” (implying an argument otherwise), but I’m not here to rat on that post.

Despite how frustrated the post made me, I am inclined to agree. It’s black-and-white to state that Aubrey didn’t change at all. If you compare her first Faraway appearance to her final scenes, she’s a completely different person. Which would've been nice if the change didn’t take two scenes.

Much like how I compared Aubrey’s backstory to that of other femme bullies, I’m going to compare Aubrey’s redemption to that of my favorite redemption story in all of media: Riku from Kingdom Hearts (the fact that I’m so in touch with his story may also explain some of my disappointment with Aubrey’s).

Riku starts off his journey on Destiny Islands. He’s always wondered what lies beyond his small home and dreamed of taking a sailboat with his best friends, Sora and Kairi. However, jealousy is an awful thing—Sora and Kairi are close. And it seems that Riku has been hearing about how they’re thinking of leaving him behind. So, he does what any teenager dealing with larger-than-life feelings does: he gives in to the magical Darkness and effectively kills everyone on the islands, separating him, Sora, and Kairi (don’t worry—everyone comes back.)

By the end of the game, he’s come to his senses, but it takes a lot of time. He fights with Sora a lot because he just knows, deep down, that he’s right and Sora is wrong, and if Sora would just listen…but no. Sora keeps abandoning him. So he has to work through that and all the feelings that accompany those abandonment issues, he has to work through the question of “What is even making me want to kill my best friend, anyway?”, and he has to work through “Wait…can I kill my best friend?” So, it takes a lot of time for him to get to his senses.

And then, he goes through hell. Literally and metaphorically. He dedicates himself wholly to making up for what he did. How? Well, he first identifies what he did wrong—he separated from his friends, he gave in to his jealousy, and he submerged his home in Darkness. He apologizes for it directly—although he doesn’t have a chance to speak with Sora right away, he's constantly apologizing for the fact that he gave in to the Darkness, so much that it became a running gag to some fans. He put up distance—he didn’t feel like he was owed forgiveness right away (or at all, but that’s a different matter) and didn’t stick at Sora’s side to wait for his best friend to forgive him. He worked hard to show that he’s changed—it would be a much longer essay if I attempted to explain the lengths he went through, but it’s not limited to allowing himself to be possessed, going to literal Hell, forcing himself into isolation, and enduring multiple handicapping injuries.

Long story short? He really, really tries to make it up to Sora. And when he and Sora finally talk (it took three years in real life, took perhaps a year in the game), Sora doesn’t even hesitate to forgive his friend…though it may be in part to Sora just being Sora. Nevertheless, Riku had earned that forgiveness.

And then, after that, Riku continues to give himself hell! He never stops to sweep what he did under the rug. It’s a part of him, after all, an ugly past but his past nonetheless. It does not define him but it cannot be forgotten, otherwise, he hasn't learned anything at all.

Deep breath. We talked a lot about Kingdom Hearts in an Omori essay. But it’s important to understand the sheer depth put into his redemption: identification, distance, and work.

What’s most frustrating about Aubrey’s arc is that fragments of this good writing exist, but that’s what they are: fragments. I would like it to be stated for the record that everything I explained for Riku’s arc wasn’t me creating speculation based on what the games said. It’s what the games literally came out and said. Aubrey however…

Identification—she apologizes to Sunny, Kel, and Hero by saying “I’m sorry, guys… I’ve been acting like such a jerk.” While I may give her grief for the usage of the word ‘jerk’ when perhaps a stronger, more evocative term would’ve done a better job, it’s certainly better than what she said in front of Basil’s door: "I just wanted to say that… I’m sorry for the way I’ve been treating you.” Completely separating herself from the issue at hand. 

Distance—none. She's immediately reintroduced to her old friend group, at a rate that ended up giving me whiplash the first time around. The question, “What about the Hooligans?” is never brought up, and things are back to how they always were, with no problems at all.

Work—Aubrey stayed the night at Basil’s house, wanting to make sure he was safe. To which, if you end up getting the neutral ending, you get the most insightful message of Aubrey’s arc (which is technically non-canon): “I'm so sorry, Basil. Please forgive me…” If getting the good or bad ending, her staying the night meant literally nothing, as Sunny’s fight took the reins.

These are fragments of a character arc. These are fragments of good characterization. While I praise Omori for how often it appears realistic, this kind of exponential growth simply isn’t. In what world, does someone who’s been bullying someone for four years, take less than two days to realize she’s been a bully and decide to change the entire course of her life?

While I could rat on Aubrey, this isn’t her problem. This is the game misreading what makes a good redemption. Redemption means work. It means effort. It is not a character simply changing their ways. Those characters feel cheap and empty—there’s a reason, after all, why the majority of fans always characterize Aubrey as the mean girl she’s shown to be when she first appeared in fan works. It’s because the ‘new’ Aubrey, the Aubrey buried under layers of hurt, hasn’t earned the right to exist.

The Riku I love in Kingdom Hearts III has earned the right to be angsty and gay and happy and his new self because he’s put in 17 years' worth of effort to become that person. It’s beautiful, it’s inspiring, it’s hopeful—you can make a mistake and go past it. It doesn’t define you. You can be forgiven. You can have hurt and have been hurt and still be worthy of love and loving.

The Aubrey at the end of Omori has not earned the right to be there, simply put. She’s the product of lazy, or ignorant writing, and it feels harsh to type out, but there’s no other way to describe it. Her self-awareness happened too quickly. She passes by Sunny’s house every day, sees Kel playing basketball every day, and could freely visit Mari’s grave whenever she wants—there were four years for her to change who she was. If Kel wasn’t able to give up his toxic positivity until the bitter end of the neutral ending, it’s quite hard to believe that a few hours of just talking made her change her ways. Especially considering that the Hooligans were characterized as her new, accepting friends, who love her and hear her out.

And again, the best fragment of an arc that could’ve been appears in the neutral ending! While it was not directly Aubrey’s actions that led Basil to take his life, it’s very impactful to see her begin to blame herself. It’s not right for her to blame herself—but that’s perhaps the only scene in the entire game where I really sympathized with her. It’s the only scene in the entire game where I truly saw that she wanted to change.

A quick note I wanted to pull out before finishing: the inclusion of the Hooligans. They were, again, fragments of an amazing arc. While they could’ve been a good way to show how kind Aubrey still is, they are thrown aside and mainly included in scenes where Aubrey is still being a bully. It’s in content outside of the game (see: Aubrey birthday comic) that they contrast Aubrey’s harsh exterior and show her sweet insides. But no, they’re underdeveloped and unutilized to make Aubrey’s arc feel doable.

There seems to be a very clear culprit to both this and the femme bully problem, and a solution that should’ve been considered more deeply.

rome wasn’t built in a day

There’s a loud rumor in the Omori fandom that Omori was originally supposed to take place over ten days rather than three days. While I’m not sure how much merit this rumor has, the fact that it exists leads me to my ultimate point:

Omori should’ve been longer.

Specifically, Omori should’ve taken place over a longer period.

EDIT: Before we continue, I just had an excellent conversation with a friend ( /ᐠ ._. ᐟ\ﾉ ). This solution only applies to if one is unwilling to change Aubrey's core character; essentially, the extent of her bullying. By making her someone who goes out of her way to torment Basil, significant screen time is going to be needed to properly unpack all that's been given. Making the base game ten days is only my opinion of the best choice, but there are other ways to solve this. However, the best course of action would be to change the extent of Aubrey's bullying on Basil—in other words, changing how Aubrey's anger presents itself.

For example, she would simply hold a grudge over what she believed was Basil destroying the photos, being extremely passive aggressive towards him. It would make a reconciliation between her and Basil, much, much more doable as well, perhaps him seeking her out in the first place in a peaceful manner to look for the photos. The lake scene could be an emotional explosion for her, perhaps finding out Basil just gave the photo album to Sunny, who is literally about to leave, and then pushes him into the lake. Then, the reflection she has next would fit what has tonally been established, seeming doable. She had, after all, been on good terms with Basil, even if for a little while.

By ‘lackluster narrative choices’, I am referring literally to the belief that Omori should not have been a game that took place in three days. I’m not here to argue about the game's mechanics—should Headspace have been that long? What is the point of a world created to serve as escapism, which should be fleeting moments of happiness, when it ends up being longer than the real world?—as much as I’m here to argue that this is a flaw of the game’s writing as opposed to a game design standpoint.

I’m not going to pretend I know how to make a video game. I’m enthusiastic about them, I follow their development and creation, and I strive to learn as much as I can about the ones that are dear to me, but I’m not going to pretend I know the first thing about making a video game. Omori’s development is one of the most infamous parts of its legacy, and the notion of extending the game would’ve only been another strain on the extended period between its announcement and its final release.

But, I know how to tell a story. Or, at the very least, I know what makes a good story. Now, the three days format of the game serves its other protagonists amazingly.

Sunny, whose arc mainly develops through the interfering ideas established in the real world and the ones previously established in Headspace, doesn’t need an extended time in the real world. His story takes place in his dreams, and the foundations of Headspace are already extremely insecure, based on the idea of covering up the truth. But when faced with a separate truth in reality, despite only a brief exposure, the lies created to protect Headspace fall apart. So Sunny’s arc does not depend on how long he spent in the real world.

Kel and Hero, on the other hand, have a very small arc. They are not flat and are very much dynamic when you compare how they started and how they ended up. However, the majority of their arc had taken place off-screen. The majority of their characterization does not occur through direct interaction with Sunny—we don’t learn about Hero’s depression because of him having a breakdown, but rather Kel discussing it. And in that same scene, we learn about Kel’s toxic positivity and the strain it’s taking on him, rather than through the game. This recontextualization is perfect for Kel and Hero. The change that occurred after Mari’s death is not easily seen by Sunny, and through it being slowly revealed instead, we learn the nature of their changes. Nonetheless, their changes occurred after Mari’s death and another change will occur most likely after the revelation of the truth—either way, their character arcs do not depend on the length of the three days. No amount of time would’ve changed them without Sunny revealing the truth (and as aforementioned, Sunny’s time was well spent in Headspace).

And finally, Basil. He's in the same boat as Kel and Hero, having an arc that occurs entirely off-screen. The difference is, however, the amount of emphasis the game puts on what happened to him as opposed to a few cutscenes with the brothers (though it is understandable, given his role as the game’s deuteragonist). His arc is a downward spiral, from an already unstable boy to an insecure mess who becomes obsessed with the sole idea of keeping his best friend safe. While it’s a progression of who he used to be, it’s development nonetheless, and it also happens off-screen. Given Basil’s fragile mindset, furthermore, the appearance of Sunny suddenly was enough to throw him off, given he was already planning on taking his own life. His rapid spiral into an even worse mess which leads to the fight between him and Sunny, therefore, is understandable. And, similarly to Kel and Hero, his real change will only occur after Sunny reveals the truth. Basil’s character development does not at all depend on how long the game would be.

The simple fact is that the other characters do not go through a drastic change on the days that Sunny comes out, and Sunny’s change was fueled by the existence of Headspace, not by the real world. The game taking place in three days does not affect the others. That is good storytelling. Using the game’s time frame to properly convey their arcs having occurred off-screen.

Aubrey, however, is not subject to that same praise. Her arc occurs on screen—while she descended to becoming a bully after Mari’s death, the arc we the viewer are supposed to acknowledge is her redemption. And three days just isn’t enough time.

The last two problems I covered, a lack of detailed backstory and a general lack of redeeming actions, lie in the same problem: the game went past those scenes far too quickly, as though Aubrey’s redemption is not essential to understanding her. It’s as though the game is trying to place importance on relationships and the joys of rekindling, rather than having to actually rekindle a relationship, having to put in the work. If the game had been slightly longer, Aubrey’s story could’ve been dealt with in a far more effective manner.

I am not Omocat, nor am I a part of the development team. I do not have the ideal solution for what could’ve been. I do, however, have a few ideas that I’d like you, my audience, to consider. How much do you think the game would’ve changed if it was ten days instead of three?

As already explained, Sunny, Kel, Hero, and Basil would not have had any significant difference if the game took place longer. Perhaps, there would’ve been a more natural awkwardness present that accompanies talking to someone for the first time in four years, but aside from that, the events of the game would’ve just taken longer.

Aubrey, however, would’ve had some actual thinking time. Her fight in the church would be her turning point, and her then isolation would feel like she had time to think things over. For a few days, Aubrey would have to be absent, and given the impression she left on the players, this absence would be heavily felt. It would be her return so much more effective, especially if she returns as someone who is unsteady due to their actions.

For the next few days, leading up to Aubrey deciding to stay the night at Basil’s house, we have the chance to know and forgive her better—perhaps, similar to Kel talking to Sunny about Hero’s depression, Aubrey can explain what it was like growing up in her household. Not as a defense, but as an explanation. She would do things with the rest of the group, and she would at a more natural rate, be integrated once again. And not just anything! She would actively help them with whatever the ten days would have to offer, and it would show that she is hurting over her actions.

And, finally, when she would decide to stay at Basil’s house, it wouldn’t feel like the game was just trying to have the cast together for one last moment, but it would feel like she’s trying to bridge the gap of all the hurt she created. When she would go to Basil’s door, it wouldn’t feel like the game was just trying to convince us to forget about her actions, but it would feel like she’s reflected and attempted a new leaf. And hopefully, the game would offer a more heartfelt apology, given more context and material to work with.

Four years of bullying can’t go away in ten days. But that’s not what the game was trying to argue in the first place—it wasn’t fully erasing Aubrey’s action, but trying to create the stepping stone for a way back. But the three days poorly argued her case, with a rushed and lacking version of redemption, and it made her ‘final character’ feel poor.

At the very least, ten days would have allowed the audience to empathize and begin to understand her. And, more importantly, it would’ve made sense that she understood the weight of her actions. And the Aubrey she became, whoever that girl would be?

She would’ve been so, so loved.

a little love in our lives

This has been on my mind for an awful lot of time. Sunny, as aforementioned, is one of my favorite characters of all time (if not my favorite), but the entire cast has a spot in my heart and is very dear to me. That includes Aubrey, but she benefits from association, which hurts me—I hate when girls in media are defined by their relationships with other guys. I wanted to get to the heart of why I couldn’t get her to stand on her own.

To summarize: Aubrey’s character was criminally mismanaged. Instead of it being a hopeful story of redemption, someone finally breaking the cycle of abuse and breaking free of her toxic household, seeking forgiveness by taking an active part in Basil’s healing, she is let off too quickly and makes all her further scenes feel twice as empty. The ideal solution would have been to have the game take place over a larger period, rather than a rushed three days, to allow the audience to empathize and relate to her.

Aubrey apologists truly astound me. I find so many flaws in her writing, and yet other people manage to see those flaws as perfections. I see people making very absurd, ableist arguments, and it makes me question the humanity of many fans, but I’ve always been intrigued by how many different perspectives there are surrounding her. I’ve seen some who relate to her because they were bullies or because they’ve been abandoned by others; so some valid reasons, and others very concerning. But it’s telling how our own experiences make us relate to different characters and help us understand why someone stands in the places they do.

…do you see what I did there? I started talking about relating backgrounds and how that benefits our understanding and— yeah, I suppose you understand, if you got this far (almost 6k words, you should be proud of yourself). If you’re still unfazed and believe that Aubrey’s writing was splendid, all the power to your fannish behaviors. But if I’ve opened your eyes a bit as to the flaws in her writing or if I’ve been able to explain your dislike of her, then I’m glad. It’s important to discuss things that didn’t stick the way they were meant to so that we can do better and we can learn.

Omori’s writing failed Aubrey. Some fans took that as a challenge. I’ve said before that canon interpretation should be separate from fanon interpretation, but I’d have to be heartless (Kingdom Hearts pun intended) to say that many fan’s interpretations didn’t get me to feel with her. I think Aubrey could’ve been brilliant, and while Omori didn’t fully capture that, a lot of fans did. So to everyone who makes art, whether it’s a drawing, a written work, a video, a song, an edit, or whatever, thank you for sharing it. Thank you for telling your stories.

I feel like writing these analysis pieces without connecting them to our own life experiences is pointless. So, to everyone else, please tell your stories. Tell your stories of redemption and love and forgiveness, because that’s what Aubrey’s story was meant to be about, and that’s what we all need in this world. Tell your stories, no matter what they are, because that is what ties us all together. We are made of stories and we return to them. We learn from them and we become better people. We become kinder—and we could all use a little more kindness in the world.

Thanks for reading!

[oulkheir]

yagi shizusumi is an idiot in love, not a sort of gentleman

i don't know if i should call that an unpopular opinion or another analysis of my fav baby in given (still a lie, they're all my favs) but i felt the need to write about shizusumi's character. lately, i've been reading a lot of fanfictions about hiiragi and shizusumi and something always felt off to me, even when the stories were so enjoyable and overly sweet. i had a great time reading most of them.

i realised that what was missing was simply shizusumi's idiocy. i mean, even hiiragi called him something like that, once. shizusumi is often portrayed as a sweetheart (which he is, deep inside), a kind of gentleman who knows everything hiiragi needs and who always has the perfect timing regarding hiiragi's demands. i think he tries to be all of this, genuinely, but it's a bit delusional to think he is already.

i love how given character tend to be realistic and above all, as mature and experienced as their age indicates. that's why i decide to see shizu as a 17-year-old idiot in love, who's never had a partner before and who can't deal with romantic interactions more than hiiragi, if not clumsily. no one will make me believe that shizu can plan proper dates and read the mood perfectly to choose the right moment to kiss hiiragi. during the summer festival he was literally late for his date(?) with hiiragi, he probably just overslept during his nap or something. he thinks confessing is about saying overly dramatic stuff like in silly romcoms and that eating together or making out is going to solve any small argument. he's really good to take hundred pictures of his boyfriend and post them on his instagram to implicitly brag as any teenager would. he says whatever comes to his mind when he thinks it's what hiiragi wants to hear, but it's mostly just embarrassing him.

of course, he's still the perfect man to hiiragi because he loves him and he sees him as his most precious friend before other feelings completed this. but i swear shizu wouldn't fit any other people than hiiragi, because he's the only one who gets him.

so i'll still be enjoying fanfictions about shizu being the boyfriend material anyone craves to have, but i'll keep in a corner of my mind that, duh, he's such a blockhead.

[roleplayhonestybox]

I dislike all the “kidnapper x victim,” “mafia x innocent bean” plots with a passion. not because of the power dynamics, but the fact that it is used as an excuse to never have to interact with the rest of the world, let alone write about it. so many of these plots are different versions of the universe basically consisting of the two characters, where one is forced to be passive yet “participate.”

if I simply crave the illusion of a co-op hobby, I’ll just remove the battery from my second controller and let my nephews play with that. (they also don’t notice that they’re not actually participating.)

.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Knubbler hcs (Fluff alphabet edition)

Ik I just posted a fluff list to do with CRP characters last post but I also wanna do it with Knubbler because this fucker has been on my mine for WEEKS and I gotta feed my fellow dick enjoyers

Obvious heads up on heavy hc stuff since we don't have much on this dude RAAAAAAAH + still developing my hcs

Long since its A-Z, not proof read and I wrote this in one sitting I need to be put down

Attraction-

Torn between wanting to say he has high standards but I'm a dickface shipper sooo (/lh)

I can't explain it but I feel like he'd be into the feistier people; more dominant and outspoken, that sort of thing, ballsy. Also balancing with being chill so it's not just. Constant energy

Balance, you know

Appearance wise? I'm stumped tbh so maybe I'll revisit this later some day

Bonding-

While he enjoys dragging you around and spoiling you (getting into that for D + G), he does enjoy time spent at home with you! Knubblers always been the type of person to sit by a fire reading a book with a glass of wine; in a robe of course

At least he does to me

Calm stuff like that is a must

Oh how I crave domestic life hcs with this man

Cuddling-

I don't have PDA on this list so imma let it be said, this man loves affection, giving and receiving. Absolutely adores being all over you at all times and not at all afraid to show you off

Going to the actual prompt he doesnt care if you're larger or smaller than him, if you sprawl yourself over his chest he will melt!!!! Hold each other!!!

Dates-

This man is going to pour so much money into these dates

Could just be because we saw him take Abigail out to dinner but my brain defaults to restuarant dates, but otherwise I feel he's also a museum enjoyer (historical, art, ect)

Emotion-

Of course since this for reader insert stuff I can't exactly say who's more emotional so we're relying on Knubbler

I feel like. He's moderate, based on his interactions with Dethklok

He's patient by a considerable amount but has his limits

Absolutely pours his heart and guts out to you when hes drunk, though, not that he doesnt already shower you with compliments and affirmations

Wanna put him at a 6.5/10 when sober, and solid 8/10 when drunk

Family-

He doesn't strike me as the type to want kids, honestly, not that he has anything against them though, it's simply not what he wants

I saw someone hc a while back that he would have a bunch of siblings and I'm HARD agreeing on that + adding my own thing that hes an uncle

Need to write a silly fic where he's assigned as babysitter for a day (I desperately need more solo/knubbler centered stuff)

Gift Giving-

Nearly every week or so he will buy you something from flowers to jewelry to stuffed animals to fancy chocolates to really anything

If you so much as mention vaguely wanting something hes pulling out his wallet

This dude is likely loaded (based on working for Dethklok and being successful prior judging by the newspapers at the end of episode 2) so he's not afraid to drop some cash for you

As for receiving gifts he doesn't hold you to the same standard regardless of your income but he would be thrilled with anything you give him, I feel like hes a jewelry guy but maybe that's just because I like drawing him with rings

I feel like he'd go bonkers for baked good though

Harsh-

You guys may butt heads but you guys probably wouldn't argue too much outside of the basic disagreements that happen in every relationship!! Usually apologies for lashing out (if he does that in that particular argument) but will refuse to apologize if there's an actual problem that needs to be addressed (if said problem is on your end)

King of compromises (learned trait from working with bands me thinks)

Injury-

Depends on the severity

Knows very very basic first aid (cleaning, applying pressure if it's an open bleeding wound, cool water if it's a burn, ect) but more than that he's lost

Swearing and a bit of panic if it's something more serious, this is true for if hes the one hurt as well

If you're the one hurt hes going to hover all over you. Oh nooo please dont tell him hes your savior/hero, please don't make him reel good for pampering you oh NOOOOOOO (stares)

If hes the ome hurt hes going to bask in the attention if he needs to be taken care of, hypes up splinters/j

This stuff also applies to sickness

Jealousy-

Oh this is one jealous motherfucker. He will *glare* with those red pin prick robotic eyes of his

If someone's flirting with you he will saunter over and wrap an arm around you, loudly and sharply calls you babe to get the point across

^Kinda cliche but I feel like this man is a sucker for tropes

But if you're like actively uncomfortable I think he might have to intervene

See: his criminal record and the fact he "knows people who can 'take care of someone'", whether he'd actually follow through depends

Kisses-

Recieving he loves when you kiss his face; mouth, cheeks, nose

Giving, really everything is fair game if you give the go ahead; has a particular fixation on your hands (backs and knuckles), cheeks, and neck

Love anything from quick pecks to full on make out sessions

Love Language-

Physical touch and gift giving! Sometimes the gift giving can get intense since hes so ready to treat you like royalty but he doesnt mean anything malicious by it

As for receiving he has a soft spot for affirmations

Marriage-

He goes either way I think, but leans further to no marriage

That doesn't mean hes any less committed to you, though

You guys probably get matching rings even if there isn't a ceremony or legal thing, I think

No-

A deal breaker is like. If you're genuinely a bad person or a threat to his career

Like theres a difference between the shit Dethklok gets into and what you would have to do for him to cut you off full stop

Though I'm stumped on what exactly would call for that outside of being a genuinely horrible person, maybe I'll revisit this later

Oddity-

His laugh is the first thing I can think of. While I think the original is silly and cute in its own way, I'm kinda glad they changed it in the movie

He laughs at his own jokes and has a killer hair routine he follows religiously. Shitty innuendos, too. I am not going to let this man live down the hot dog thing and I KNOW it ain't a one off thing there is no way, this man gets no bitches (using Nathan's "you're horrible with women" comment as leverage)

Outside of that I dont think there's many quirks or habits that are worth mentioning

Petnames-

By law he has to call you Baby/Babe but I can also see him saying Hon/Honey, maybe even Sweetheart

Loves being called things like Dear and Darling

Question-

Loves coming to you to ask if you wanna give a second opinion on something hes working on, work related or not! Hes more than confident in his skills regarding sound engineering, but he likes getting the attention and time from you

Risk-

Skipping this because I'm truly stumped on trying to figure out how far hes willing to go in a relationship in terms of taking risks

SHH-

Has a few secrets, ranging from personal stuff to things that ultimately don't concern you

And that's okay, as long as it's not anything that can screw you or the relationship over, privacy is necessary

Probably has a lot of secrets surrounding dumb or embarrassing stuff hes done before and during the relationship

Tunes-

Obligatory I have a funky sense of music and while I want to choose a song that fits the time period of the main show to the decades before I'm a bit lost. Also I dont generally listen to love songs/songs that can be passed off as ones if you squint. So you guys get 2 songs that give me knubbler x (reader/oc insert) vibes

And

Upset-

When Knubbler is upset he shuts himself off and tries to get over whatever funk hes in, usually a glass or two is involved

Occasionally he'll seek you out for comfort or validation

If you're the one upset he's already lending you an ear and offering a shoulder to lean on (metaphorically and literally), gets mad on your behalf if someone upset you and offers solutions if it was something else

I like to think that you guys dedicate nights for venting and unloading on drama and bullshit. Like two gossiping moms

Valentine-

He is not holding back

You wake up to breakfast and gifts. He takes you out all day for shopping, you guys come home to get ready for dinner and a movie

Things definitely get.. intimate

But this is a SFW blog so I am not going to elaborate

Wedding-

If there is a wedding you guys make sure it's straight out of a storybook; dream wedding basically

Since he's not too worried about getting married I'd assume it makes sense that he lends most the power to you when it comes to decorating

Xray-

Urges you to communicate your feelings outwardly and verbally since hes not a mind reader, but he does pick up on certain behaviors to give him a general idea of how you're feeling

He doesn't want to push too hard, though, so he tries to offer an environment where there's open communication

Yearning-

Stealing this from my friend but hc that Knubbler actually would not know how to react to someone genuinely having an interest in him, at least in the beginning

Like he knows he's not the ugliest or the most horrible person but he doesnt think hes a heartthrob

So when you come along and actually get him to sit and settle down with someone he kinda. Doesn't know how to feel about being on his own/seperated

Like he can still function but hes finding himself thinking about you a lot; from wondering how your day is to things he wants to tell you when you guys are reunited

Zzz-

As mentioned before he loves cuddling so be ready for him to hold onto you

Prefers soft and light covers compared to heavier ones

Probably yoinks the blanket while he's sleeping

Probably snores

Bonus hc I think his robo eyes can be taken out, like for charging and he has a lil case for them. Has a sleeping mask so nothing gets into his sockets + he understands how it looks to others (especially if they wake up half asleep in the dark and arent used to the empty sockets yet)

[something-pithy]

Oooo a drabble. I've been craving your writing, I love the tone and the way you write internal dialogue for both Astarion and Zee/Tav, it's so distinctive for each character. Please gimme a (fluffy?) drabble from Astarion POV?

Looking forward to mid-Julyish!!

Ummm... soo.... first of all, I probably should have checked my tumblr messages before now if I was gonna make such an offer... >.< but better late than never? I hope? I'M SO SORRY Also I tried to do a drabble and this is what happened instead. loooooooooool Thank you so much for the ask! I swear to god I'll write them actually interacting with each other if I get another ask or request looooool ANYWAY HERE WE GO --- Obviously he couldn't tell her what a precious thing she actually was. His self-absorbed mien more than suited him; it was a trademark, a bait-and-switch, and as such, part of an intricate web of defense- and survival mechanisms that had served his aims well.

It wasn't the sex. Well, it wasn't just the sex -- which was obviously superlative, since he was involved, and she was not only creative and cheeky but quite the acrobat, really. At first, he'd tried leaving her tent after -- casual, rakish, smirking.

But the little gremlin always pulled some sort of trick -- asked him some question too ridiculous not to answer, hid his smalls or his boots or his favorite shirt, or simply draped herself over him as though it were the most natural thing in the world, and it always felt like she belonged there.

And how galling it was, at first, to have to attach himself to someone who not only committed their little band of miscreants and misfits -- and consequently and most importantly, him, to acts of kindness, generosity, and selfless heroism, but was a damned bard, and too witty and clever by half to dismiss. Yes, pretty and witty, and despite her do-gooder leanings, indisputably an agent of chaos with a penchant for mischief that... well, how could he help but appreciate it? She was worth her weight in entertainment value, that much was obvious to anyone.

But although it was a rare quality indeed for such a little altruist to be likeable, charming, and interesting enough for him to overlook -- or at least tolerate -- her benign shortcomings, that wasn't it, either.

Well, not all of it.

Part of it was that she was deceptively, appallingly observant. Keenly so. Quietly so. She saw what she oughtn't; past the misdirection, distraction, past the profundity of violence and darkness and rage that pulsed at his core to something... else. Something she had no business looking at, to be frank, but...

He actually hated that. Hated all that she saw and the strange version of it mirrored in her honestly absurdly large eyes and soft soulful melodies and the audacity of her unguarded sadness that in the briefest of moments, he saw. Hated the way it made him ache, the confusion of unsettling softness it evoked. But saw it he did, despite her performance of the clever, playful, pretty, witty mien that suited her even better his own fit him.

Because somehow it was all genuine, it was all her. Like her warmth. Like her kindness. Like her ferocity and tenderness and feral, demented glee. And though he hated those moments when something in her eyes or voice or touch suggested she saw every pathetic, stunted, debased nuance of his being, the magnitude of his deficiency, his weakness, she never exploited it. Never exposed it, never spoke of it.

He strongly suspected that it had never even occurred to her to do so, and that it never would.

Because she was good. Immutably, implausibly, irrevocably good, no matter her impish insouciance, her reckless intemperance, her convivial subversion. No matter whatever shadows or grief haunted her even as she reveled in joy and color and life.

That such a creature could look at him, see him, and see something worthy... it was almost enough to give him hope.

And the rarity of that for one such as him made her precious, indeed.

Or at the very least deranged beyond reckoning. Either way, entertaining such thoughts and... feelings (eugh) was troublesome enough. Actually speaking them could be ruinous.

No matter what she thought she saw in him or how good she might be, he could only entice if he was always just out of reach. It would hardly do for her to know that she was perilously close to having him in the palm of her dainty, lute-calloused little hand.

Besides, the little gremlin would never let him live it down.

[ctheathy]

Yandere The Angel headcanons

Yandere The Angel x Reader

Yandere Headcanons [SFW]

It may come off as slightly out of character to those who have dove deeper into his persona, but I wish to tell you; that was exactly what I was going for. I could easily just write him down as some barbarian who does nothing more than take the lives of those around you, but where’s the fun in that? That might as well be his neutral form without any of the romance included. I enjoy writing for unique aspects in yandere aus, and this just so happens to be my own.

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

General toxicity • Yanderes • Depression • Descriptions of Insanity • Su!c!de mention • Slight death+murder detail • Sadistic behaviour [Only from the Angel ,, Not directed torwards darling] • Possessiveness • Superiority complex • Narcissism • Fascination with death • Guilt tripping • Worship

At first glance, the Angel seems like a very ... Complex character. He’s sadistic, cruel, barbaric and very much disrespectful to those who have passed on to the next life; showing no sorrow in their deaths and feeling the need to mock those who are on the verge of it. Much of the characteristics that would be considered a whole lot more reasonable for quite the opposite than the angelic form they take on. All of that and proportionally for little to no reason behind it either. He simply enjoys the things that he does for the thrill of it, having zero remorse in the matter whatsoever ... But there’s an aspect I haven’t seen anybody remorselessly think nor talk about just yet. One that not only has the capability of breaking some of those inhumane personality traits down, but in causing his yandere tendencies to show up. It’s time we take a look far into the future, one much further than any given screentime could ever be.

Over the years he starts to grow bored of his targets. As there's heavily implied that the Angel is very much self aware and has the capability of interacting with future victims of either suicidal reasonings, near death experiences, due to them being on the verge of the afterlife to begin with or himself simply shooting the brains out of them out of satisfaction; any potential survivors after having met the Angel would have likely lost their lives by him not all too long after or have fallen into complete insanity by the relentless and nonstopping disturbing presence alone.

Most assumptions on meeting this considered holy being would likely either move torwards fearing it for their lives, the realisation setting in that it holds the power to literally end anyone’s life they desire to take; or instead going as far to worship the divine appearance, viewing it as a sign of hope and good luck, doing anything it requests in order to keep this mere delusion of themselves living and holding no limits in order to do so, to the point where in the end the only considered thing blessing for them would be the mental institution taking them in. And although these occurrences used to be delightful for him, The Angel has rarely ever experienced anything else. All it takes is one little difference in behaviour what would be more than enough to set him off. Foreignness filling his veins and a feeling of curiosity and desire starting to bloom inside of him.

I cannot help but enjoy the thought of the Angel craving nothing but normality for once in a while. Messing with people on the boundary of life and death is fun. Heck, even toying with the mortal’s emotions shall remain enjoyable and very much so entertaining for the Angel, but it’s important to remember that it’s all he’s ever used to. The Angel holding younger//childish characteristics and curious desires makes it only obvious their ways shall become atleast somewhat boring to them over time. He gets tired of everything being in constant repeat. He wants--no he needs something else to keep his own cravings intact eventually.

Am I implying that the Angel has been a ticking time bomb all along?

Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going after.

When treating him as some equal, neutral entity; almost like he didn’t just take somebody’s life right in front of you, he’s close to feeling offended in a way. He understands he speaks and looks like any other human being would minus the common angelic features, but surely you should have gotten the hint by now that he’s on a much higher level than any of you mortals could ever be. But instead you ... Don’t. Or either just do not care about the Angel’s position as the assistant of literal Death himself in the slightest, which both wouldn’t be all too far out of reach for your case, but this instead makes him feel absolutely outraged and severely taken aback; rather close to just making the presumption that your sanity levels had already been long gone to begin with. No other human has ever treated him the same way you have, so what was the deal with you here? You’re definitely on the border of weird in his opinion, but also intrusively compelling, which is exactly where this unwanted obsession of his would make a start.

No matter how the two of you would have met, the Angel wouldn’t want you dead like he might have had in plan beforehand. Due to how dull his life had been, it’s only obvious he would have easily noticed how much more alive he’s gotten after your sudden arrival in his life, it’s likely been hundreds of years since he’s felt this way--no- Even generally speaking, he felt better than he’s ever had. If anything, all those damned years can go to waste for all he cares. You’ve become his main and likely only source of happiness at this point, and although he would never show nor admit to this in any case, he’s been just as miserable as those occasional mortals suffering from depression in all those years.

Yet would the one struggling with similar issues be his darling, he’d be a whole lot less reasonable among his entire circle of life perspective, casting it aside in hopes of them listening to his childlike, yet genuine pleads for their beating heart. Quite literally guilt tripping you in the process, having zero problem nor shame in forcing out a few crocodile tears in order to keep you on your feet properly. He’s had a mindset that could usually only be considered as insensitive and apathetic; finding any kinds of suffering viewed as pleasant, and although he still truly is torwards any other human being out there, he could never wish the same upon his darling, no matter how natural it may feel for him.

Despite how the normal Angel would be fairly careless with his victims, just trying to get the job done with and not feeling any particular way when doing so, yandere Angel gains a habit of becoming a whole lot more ... Aggressive torwards any rivals of his that might pop up. Despite having a seemingly small image and usually just going for the gun to do the job for him, the Angel would have no problem literally ripping apart whoever with bare hands, tearing off the chunks of flesh of anybody unlucky enough to grab your attention. And may they have the convenience to survive? Well- A few or thirty stabs and knife wounds on the body would surely do the trick instead. Although he’d usually be one to show these through childish acts and mannerisms, his possessive nature has become him to be a whole lot more emotionally expressive with his true emotions among the circumstances of the situation.

For something more on the romantic side, I can see him being a severely overprotective, teasing, cunning and sarcastic, yet perhaps somewhat needy being torwards his darling. On a more immature note, he’d likely also be one to throw childish fits when not getting what he desires, even lack of attention for the day causing his mood to sour greatly. He’s an entity that’s lacked any kinds of normal connections, as some would say it, so having gained one through you would make him quite the clingy saint; always hovering around you throughout your usual routines and holding your side close at the seemingly worst moments along the day. He’s also one to wrap you around in his wings, who unsurprisingly, are fairly soft, feeling much like those of doves would, yet also fluffy in a way. He’d also use this technique when feeling particularly jealous in any of your daily moments together. Any potential threats and unwanted observation being given shall learn what it’s like to have a bullet be shot through their foreheads.

The Angel has chosen you as the muse of his life and he’ll go to severe extends to show the entire world that if he has to, feeling the need to wrap you up and keep you away from any of their horrendous behaviours and thinking that could potentially rub their ways off on you. You’re the true angel in his eyes. You’ve saved him of a lifelong fate that no other could have considerably freed him from. He finds himself being an unstable wreck before all that and it’s only then when just the wrong darling shows up

who knows how long he has the capability of following them around before he’ll snap?

[proceduralpassion]

Depth Over Distance

Prompt: Day 1 Of Narcoctober - Create a fanwork about a canon character you’ve never written about/used before

Characters: Mika Camarena x Brother!OC (Michael Luna)

CW: language, discussions of grief/death

WC: ~2.2K

A/N: Hiiii friends, my first Mika fic! Credit to @nocturnal-milk-dud for the pic above. Also, if you've read my IWBSS series, you're probably already familiar with my OC Michael Luna, who's actually Mika's older brother. Had so much fun writing their sibling dynamic and a little insight into how Michael winds up in Colombia. Hope you enjoy 💖

“Just the person I wanted to see.” 

“Michael!” Mika exclaimed in both surprise and excitement. It’d been a while since she’d seen her older brother, a steady presence in her life for as long as she could remember. His position as an agent for the Mexico Interpol field office kept him busy, but that wasn’t why he’d been keeping his distance. 

The two of them basked in their hug before taking a seat next to one another and looking out at the baseball practice field. The park may as well have been a second home for her with how often she was here for her oldest son’s practices and games. 

“How’ve you been? Work must be keeping you busy, mano.” 

Michael shrugged, “It’s never not, unfortunately.” 

She hummed in response. They were no strangers to sitting in silence, savoring how the quiet was an easier kind of forgiveness. Their relationship didn’t allow for conflict or discord. It was effortless even at its inception. Maybe it was the decade length of age difference, but Mika and Michael had never been the type of siblings to fight. 

“How’s he doing?” Michael asks, nudging his chin towards his oldest nephew.

“Better. He’s been putting a lot more power behind those swings,” Mika sighs, “I’m glad he has the outlet. He needs it.”

She had planned on taking him out for the season after Kiki’s passing, but he begged for her to keep him in. Now, as she watched him pour every ounce of grief into his swings, she wanted to kick herself for ever thinking of the idea. Somehow, the conscience inside his little body craved for something he hadn’t realized he would need. An outlet. 

Mika chuckles to herself, wishing she had one of those. Some kind of avenue to channel every emotion bouncing in the recesses of her heart and mind. But every second of every day was dedicated to making sure her boys would and could grow up without such a vital figure in their lives. Anything less than 100% was unacceptable to her. 

Michael coming to these games might’ve been the only adult interaction she got these days. Her life had become a precise routine, down to the hour, and she never veered from it, too afraid that the facade of togetherness would shatter with any detour. She clinged to the sense of normalcy and warmth she got from their bleacher seat conversations, even if they were of the most mundane topics. And mundane they were. 

Michael’s way of helping his little sister grieve was to simply not bring it up. She had more than enough people asking if she was alright, he figured. So he didn’t ask. He was patient with her and comforting during those moments when it all felt like too much and she needed a good cry. Otherwise, he carried on as usual. The first practice after Kiki’s funeral, Michael sat down next to her and started talking about some new television show he started watching called Murder, She Wrote and how he confused Angela Lansbury with Agatha Christie. 

It’s the first time she bursts into laughter since she became a widow. She calls him an idiot and explains that they are indeed two different people, though Angela had starred in a film based on Agatha’s novel. Later that week, she watches an episode of Murder, She Wrote so she can discuss the episode with him. 

Another week, he brings polvorones. He notices she’s losing weight and this is his silent way of getting her to recuperate her appetite. She’s never been able to resist the crumbly shortbread sweets and smiles to himself when she takes the bag from him and hogs them all to herself. 

Ever perceptive, she knows the intentions behind the gesture, but doesn’t acknowledge it beyond obnoxiously licking her fingers after finishing them all.

“What if I wanted more?” He jokes.

“Too bad.”

He holds his youngest nephew in his arms as Mika rounds up her oldest, adrenaline-drunk son. He should be dead tired after the lively game under this scorching sun, but his team won and he’s still amped up as they walk back to their cars.

Her youngest babbles in baby talk and Michael indulges by nodding his head, as if actually following along with whatever the infant is trying to convey. 

Mika catches it and remarks, “He could be telling you that he thinks your goatee looks like a ferret on your chin and there you are, nodding and smiling like a doofus.” 

He looks at his nephew, seemingly ignoring his little sister’s comical dig, “What do you think, sobrino? No más polvorones para tu madre, ¿bien?”  

Mika’s eyes widened, “Wait, nevermind. He said that’s a nice shirt you’re wearing today.”

All in all, she’s not sure she’d be keeping it together if not for her big brother. It’s only once a week that she usually sees him, but the other six days are filled with longing. It’s like she crawls desperately every day so that she can get to the day where she finally sees him. 

He’s been less present this past month. Skipping practices and games, leaving vague voicemails on her machine in the aftermath. When she does get to see him, he’s more withdrawn which is saying a lot coming from a man of so few words already. She doesn’t breach the topic. Namely, it’s because she’s got a lot going on as a young widow and mother, but also because Michael’s not the kind of person you cajole or nag on. He’ll come to you when he’s ready but will blow away like a leaf if you push him too hard.

It’s annoying, but again, they’re the kind of siblings who roll their eyes at each other, rather than fully air their grievances and argue. 

“I’ve got a job offer in Medellin, Colombia.” 

When she learns of Kiki’s death, it’s like the noxious feeling that takes over you when you jump out of a plane with no parachute. Your stomach doesn’t drop, but your senses are swiped from you. You can’t see because grief is like the air that blasts into your eyes. You can’t hear because your ears have just been violently assaulted with the worst news of your life. If you touch anything, it’s like you’re grasping nothingness because how else are your hands supposed to act when they know they’ll never touch their lover again? 

When Michael tells Mika he’s leaving, it’s more like a rollercoaster. There is a drop in her stomach. She feels nauseous. Her stomach roils in spirals.

With her husband’s death, it was a long, unidirectional descent that left her fractured in pieces when the news landed on her.

With her brother leaving, it’s like the sudden drops, the highs and lows, and loops of a rollercoaster.

She’s proud because she knows how hard he works at his job.

Loop.

She’s angry because he’s leaving for an entirely different country and that solid mass of reliance that she’s had for the past four months is leaving with him.

Loop.

She’s scared out of her mind because how is she supposed to function now that she’s realized he’s become a crux?

Another fucking loop.

She only nods when she finally digests the news enough to form a response.

But when he follows her home, something he hasn’t done before, she slaps him two steps into stepping into the house.

And then she goes to grab him an ice pack in short order, because shit she didn’t mean to do that even though it kinda felt good. He takes it and they sit on the couch together once the boys are in bed for the night. Michael hasn’t taken the ice pack to his face at all in the couple of hours since she slapped him. Finally, she takes it from his grasp and holds it in the hand that she striked across his face. All this time, it’s been sore and she presses the mostly water but still somewhat chilly pack onto it.

“That shit hurt, didn’t it?”

Mika laughs and laughs until the queasy feeling in her stomach is replaced by aches from the overuse of her accessory muscles in snickering loudly at his comment. She cackles even more as she notes the red hand print forming on his cheek, knowing that it probably hurt as much for him as it did for her. He’s just too fucking prideful and that’ll never change. 

Once her laughter finally leaves the room, Michael heaves a heavy sigh.

“I don’t have to leave for another month. And Christmas isn’t that far away when you think about so… I’ll be home, then.”

Christmas is six months away and she already struggles through the other six days of the week that she doesn't see him.

She could tell him not to go, but to her, that would be admitting weakness and he’s already the one person that doesn’t pity her or treats her with kid gloves. And she is feeling pretty weak right about now, and she knows that he knows it, but it’s different when you have to verbally admit that. 

She also tells him not to go because she knows that he’ll stay. 

When she was six, she watched a horror movie called El Monstruo resucitado even after the warnings from her parents not to. They were out having dinner with friends and only her and Michael were home. He comes out into the living room to see her cowering in the corner at the image of the disfigured creature who possessed the eponymous character. Sure, like any other sixteen year old brother would do, he laughed and teased her for being afraid of some dumb movie, but later that night, his face veers into resolute seriousness when she finally breaks and tearily begs for him to sleep at the foot of her bed so that the monster man doesn’t come to hurt her. 

His back feels like shit the next morning and he still continues teasing her when she gets in trouble from her parents for watching the movie, but she knows then that he would do anything he asked of her. 

She had a will right now, in the present day, not to break no matter how much the rope of her composure bent. And damn, did she want to break. 

But if there was anything else that kept her glued into one piece these days, it was rage. 

Rage at the ones responsible for her husband’s death. Rage at the existence of drug cartels. Rage that they wielded such strong enough power to rot out the heart of entire families. Leaving them in shades of gray and blue from the lack of oxygen and the rush of anguish and despair that came in to replace it from the air. 

The drug trade was as interconnected and intricate as the labyrinth webs that spiders spun. And their touch was just as covert and venomous. There were ties between the Guadalajara cartel and Medellin cartel that necessitated relationships between the law enforcement agencies trying to sever them. A man with Michael’s accomplishment and knowledge was the perfect person needed in Colombia as the cobwebs grew. 

If that led to the takedown of not only the men who murdered her beloved but also all the other scum just like him, then she opined that he absolutely needed to go. 

Michael knows that his little sister will stand on her own two feet and continue carrying herself, carrying her boys forward into this new, harrowing chapter of their lives. He doesn’t doubt for a second that they’ll be okay and he acknowledges as much when he says, “Do me a favor and make an individual tres leche just for me on Christmas. Don’t tell her I said that, but I hate when mamá puts all those mangos in it.”

And because that’s their “thing”, she jokes, “I’ll tell her and put extra mangos when I make it for you.” 

She’s not sure where she goes from here, but she’s got two young boys relying on her and a husband whose demise deserves retribution.

She leans on her brother as they watch an episode of Murder, She Wrote together while night blankets the sky outside. If there’s any source of strength that she can gain from what’s probably their last night of one-on-one bonding, she’s quick to cipher it for all of its worth. 

They’ve said “I love you” to each other maybe a handful of times in their lifetime. They don’t say it now. It doesn’t need to be said. 

She can’t see what the other end of the tunnel looks like. 

The light’s too dim and she’s all alone. But if she closes her eyes and listens closely enough, she can hear him, hear Michael’s voice. 

Where life takes her next, she’s gotta do it alone. But she knows he’ll always be the one to catch her before she falls. The one who protects her from monsters and demons, even the ones taking hold in her head.

Two thousand miles of space between them could never change that.

It was always depth over distance for them.

Click here if you want to be added to my taglist! Taglist: @asirensrage @narcosfandomdiscord

[syrips]

hello im gonna pin this post

hello my name is Syrips, im a super duper simp and simp/self-insert enabler for others who love strahd or any cos/ravenloft/fictional characters

im 28, but i sometimes say im thirty as a vague response because its easier and faster to say (or safer to say to strangers)

i think i am autistic but i am currently only self-diagnosed; i plan to tell my doctors once i compile a binder of reasons why i think im autistic based on noted events in my childhood, behavior, and my reflected perspective on things in pages of charts and text which is a totally neurotypical thing to do

im genderfluid and i am fine with any and all pronouns (different people may use different/changing/fluid pronouns on me, i am completely fine with this)

im polyamorous and pansexual/panromantic, i gush over games that have polyamory/pan options!!

i have huge CoS/Ravenloft spoilers so please, PLEASe do not enter unless you are fine with being spoiled with all kinds of content. i also wont explain what is or isnt 'canon' because, well, some things may be canon for one person, while potential/not-canon for another, so i really cannot confirm or deny it myself.. ask your DM for confirmation! (and for my players who are here, hehe, goodluck figuring it out!)

i do music, art, crafting, and streaming sometimes, here is my linktree: https://linktr.ee/syrips

please 'ask'/message/send me any and all of your curse of strahd and/or ravenloft works of art! this can include these and more!:

playlists

moodboards

art/portfolio/link to your art or artblog

pages of your OC/PC/dnd lore (both player and DM welcome)

campaign/session notes and storytime

canon and potential-/home-/head-canon dumps

narrations/imagines/ao3/google docs/fanfic/fic writings

cool crafts!!

i crave it more than strahd craves blood, please and thank you!

you can also send me stuff and let me know if you want me to gush/simp over it, provide advice, or simply acknowledge it (publicly or privately)! let me know in advance cuz i dont want to make you uncomfortable with what you share

i have no limits on triggering fictional content, just make sure to tw it properly if it is sensitive content for others

my Ask thingy is always open, i may ramble alot if i get passionate enough though so be warned! hehe

ok goodbye ill edit or change this whenever idk

Edit Entry 1 - 11th Moon, 2023

for context, keita/raze (he/him) is my irl partner. he's been a simp for alucard (castlevania) longer than i've begun simping for strahd. i only discovered this years into the relationship when we watched castlevania (where i expected to be a bigger simp for castlevania), and instead HE made high pitch simping noises as alucard appeared on the screen and i was like -sus eyes- wait a GOSH DARN MINUTE-. also, keita has a thing for necks. i shrugged it off when he first told me, but years later i started simping for strahd and now i look back at that moment like 'hm. odd.-'. anyways, i mostly started dating him because he sounds like a kermit the frog southern guy who goes 'howdy howdy' and he says 'i should be golden' unironically and i think thats pretty funny

i tag stuff as #making a keita tag so when keita presses this he can see all the stuff that he likes so that i can organize stuff and incase he ever decides to poke around my blog and use this tag search within my blog

Edit Entry 2 and 3 - 12th Moon, 2023

syrips OC/PC list (loosely alphabetical)

Other People's Adored OC/PC list (loosely alphabetical)

Edit Entry 4 - 7th Moon, 2024

hi huge warning that im fucking WEIRD. like i know people may enjoy the idea of me for entertainment/indulgence purposes but please please. if you ask/tell me to do something, i will 90%-chance take it seriously and respond bluntly/directly. please take my warnings seriously and please please interact with me responsibly!!

and i already know some would be like, 'oh syrips people always say that. they wanna act unique/special by calling themselves weird'. like. thats fair if people dont believe that but please dont be surprised when freakos start feeling more comfortable/vulnerable around you and you become shocked. like. stop trying to shame/blame freakos for what they've warned since the beginning. please, it's hurtful and disrespectful.

my asks are always open, be as blunt/direct as you want. most of my cws will be with "cw: " before it. let me know if you want me to cw tag something!

i use the #be cringe be free tag for weirdos/freakos/happy/indulgent stuff. this can include stuff that isnt 'cringe', and/or cringe we embrace. it's okay to be cringe. it's okay to say cringe culture is dead. it's okay to not see things as cringe. it's okay to embrace the cringe. it's okay to indulge, to be your favorite version of you. it's okay to indulge, even if it's unfamiliar/scary. i use the tag for moments of doing what makes you happy, regardless if youre unfamiliar with that indulgent feeling. be cringe be free!!

[frozenambiguity]

𝘒𝘕𝘖𝘞𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘗𝘈𝘙𝘛𝘕𝘌𝘙 𝘞𝘌𝘓𝘓 𝘊𝘈𝘕 𝘗𝘖𝘛𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘐𝘈𝘓𝘓𝘠 𝘔𝘈𝘒𝘌 𝘞𝘙𝘐𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘛𝘖𝘎𝘌𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘈 𝘓𝘖𝘛 𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘐𝘌𝘙.

REPOST DO NOT REBLOG !!

NAME: Cláudia

PRONOUNS : She/her

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION : Discord. Ims, sometimes, though I often forget to check them asdfghfds I also enjoy communicating via tags.

NAME OF MUSE(s) : Kaeya! But I also like calling him Kae or Yaya when talking ooc with friends. He's my pookie, so it's only natural that I use nicknames of endearment.

BEST EXPERIENCE : honestly sobbing my eyes and soul out because of interactions or potential scenarios that I discuss with friends. I crave that sweet, sweet pain. It's at times like those that I really go, 'wow, all this that we create... Art, really. This is what makes life worth living'. It is honestly one of the best feelings for a writer to feel.

RP PET PEEVES / DEALBREAKERS : I don't think I have many...? Mostly because I am pretty chill with stuff. I guess I will mention the usual god-modding stuff or forcing headcanons onto my character, though it rarely happens.

If I have to give a more specific answer, though...? Hm. This might sound controversial, but it is heartbreaking to see that people do not distinguish fiction from reality anymore. Especially when that translates into attacking//bashing//starting fandom witch hunts, only because someone likes certain contents or ships you don't like or find "immoral".

I have been roleplaying for many years and I have always thrived in fandoms whose contents or nature could be easily seen as controversial ( if you know Diabolik Lovers, I'm blowing you a little kiss ), so it's rather weird to see people so sensitive these days. Not that you have to enjoy x or y, but if you don't, then simply curate your own space and go on with your day. You don't have to attack others or make them feel inferior for enjoying something you don't. I've seen firsthand, multiple times, people who stopped writing, drawing or just creating in general because they were attacked for it. Not cool.

TLDR; Just let people enjoy what they want and write what they want. I don't need to be more direct than this to get my point across. Learn to differentiate a person's interests from their true nature. If you're not capable of doing that, then... Well. We're probably not meant to be.

MUSE PREFERENCES: For settings, I prefer writing angst! Fluff! And surprisingly domestic, day-to-day stuff. But when it comes to muses, I tend to lean toward complex, multifaceted ones. Usually ones that choose to present themselves in a certain way and carry out a performance of sorts, that may not truly represent their deepest inner musings, thought patterns, or genuine feelings.

PLOTS OR MEMES : I tend to lean toward memes because I'm not very good at plotting + Kaeya has a mind of his own. I'm just here to type, he leads fdghjhr

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES : Long! I do not know how to be concise and I love partners who match that energy www

BEST TIME TO WRITE : It depends on my mood. I don't have a preferable time to do it. When motivation strikes --- that's the best time to write.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S) : I have been finding more and more that yes, I am. More than I initially thought.

Tagged by: @nagareboshiko thank you for the tag!! <3

Tagging: you!

[saintsenara]

Hey! If you are still doing the Work In Progress ask game, I’m curious about what you plan for “Mightier Than Any Wizard Living” ?

thank you very much, anon, for selecting mightier than any wizard living from the work-in-progress list!

this is something of an epic undertaking, since it's the whole story - 1926 to 1998 [and into the afterlife beyond] - with one difference: a female voldemort.

i'll be frank that i don't usually go out of my way to read stories which [binary - because it's always a binary swap] genderswap characters, because i think it's rarely done as interestingly as it could be. genderswapping in this fandom is primarily a shipping device, overwhelmingly used to render slash pairings more "palatable" by either making them het or making them wlw, and with the genderswapped character often turned into an exaggerated feminine stereotype [something which, as i've said before, also happens in slash writing which equates sexual dynamics with personality types and bottoms with submissives].

which is to say, harriet potter is almost exclusively tiny, fragile, submissive, and desperate to be bred by whichever romantic partner the story's pairing her with.

although there's another side to this - genderswapping characters to make them edgier or more glamorous. mary marvolo riddle* is a dark, sexy femme fatale. who always appears to look a surprising amount like bellatrix...

but I've seen far less genderswapping which takes a look at the wider implications - for the stations of canon; for wizarding society - of characters who are canonically [understood to be] men being written as women instead.

for example, harry is a public symbol of defiance and resistance. would the same be true of the girl-who-lived?

how would siria and regina black understand their relationship to their family and lineage?

does veronica weasley still feel least loved by the mother who craved a daughter?

what does fudge's relationship with dumbledore and lucius malfoy look like if she's cornelia? how do we read snape's treatment of pupils if she's severine? if betty crouch sends her own daughter to azkaban, how do the wizarding public react?

and how does the state respond to a terrorist kingpin who's not a king at all...?

at the minute, all writing this does is bring up more and more questions... does the canonical deprivation of voldemort's childhood look more sinister if we think about it happening to a little girl, and why? what changes in the way voldemort's first meeting with dumbledore can be read if the headmaster isn't meeting tom, 'his handsome father in miniature'? does she still hate her face and her name and her father? do slughorn's interactions with the teenage voldemort seem less avuncular and much more creepy? do hepzibah smith's seem less?

can a young half-blood woman, with no money to speak of, in the 1940s - even if she's immortal, a murderer multiple times over, and the most talented pupil hogwarts has ever seen - reject the social norms of marriage and children which never seem to trouble the canonical voldemort? how does it feel to know your mother died in childbirth when you possess the requisite anatomy for the same thing to happen to you? is a female voldemort's loss of beauty perceived differently from the male one's?

do the death eaters obey her? how is their dynamic different from their canonical relationship with voldemort? is bellatrix still her favourite? would disaffected young men like snape - desperate to associate with someone who could give them power - want to join her organisation? would men who believe profoundly in bloodlines and lineage be willing to serve a woman? does the ministry take her seriously as a threat? is her violence considered to be more of an aberration, something that women simply don't do?

how does she groom ginny? does harry still think of her as 'a friend he had when he was small'? does wormtail go looking for her?

the list is endless.

the only thing i'm really set on with this is that it's structured as an investigation into voldemort's life which is being pieced together beyond the grave by a dumbledore who finds heaven far duller than he imagined. the chapters are a combination of witness statements, letters, documents and so on, giving all sorts of characters - of whom my favourite to write, by far, has been an adder with a penchant for quoting beowulf - the chance to give their view on the mystery.

the only person we don't hear directly from? voldemort herself. obviously she was never going to cooperate when dumbledore came knocking, was she?

[*eagle-eyed readers will have spotted that mary marvolo riddle does not rearrange to 'i am lady voldemort'. this is because i couldn't be bothered to come up with an anagram, because i'm not a cringe teenage edgelord. she'll live.]