#in an extremely roundabout way but yeah

[mild-and-hammered]

So, I know the fandom (myself very included) love to talk about JLA playing fuck marry kill with Brucie Wayne as an option...but I offer an alternative. Bruce overhears a conversation between Clark, Diana, and Hal.

Clark: No I mean if we're playing, I'd fuck you Diana, obviously it would be a wonderful night--

Diana: and all the way into the morning, obviously

Clark: Obviously. And I'd marry Batman, so sorry Hal, I guess you gotta go.

Hal, outraged: Marry Bats???? Over Me???

Clark: Yeah, hello, have you seen him? No offense and all, but if you get the chance to sleep with wonder woman you kinda have to. And if I marry Batman I get sweet gadgets, nerdy banter, awful coffee, and I get to use the little ears on the cowl as handles while I bend him over the breakfast table every morning.

(plot twist, Clark totally knows Batman's there and this is his extremely weird and roundabout way of flirting)

[sinofthesloth]

Use(fu)less Knowledge - Jade and Floyd Leech

Sometimes it is hard to tell when Floyd calls you shrimpy as a form of endearment and when he is in one of his moods. Especially in the beginning of the odd friendship the two of you created. It did get better as time went on, but he, at times, will change his tone just to mess with you. Sometimes the line between friendly bullying and flirting is extremely blurred. Neither of the boys will give you a straight answer.

"Ask my brother. He is the one that is confusing that brain of yours my dear." Jade says with a smile on his face as he knows about the roundabout his brother has been putting you through.

"Ask Jade, he'll have an easier time explaining it all." Floyd might say. Other times he will just walk, mumbling something about seeing how long it will last. At times you don't bother asking if you can see how foul of a mood he is in.

The constant going back and forth became annoying quick, but you had no way to get accurate information about the twins. They were unlike anyone else. They weren't like each other. Floyd's mood switches were not like his brother's. Jade's anger was quiet, waiting. Floyd by that alone was the safer twin to be around if you fucked up. You'll know when enough is enough. It also makes it much easier to apologize for the right thing when the time comes to do so.

Azul was your last hope. A hope you didn't wish to use. ”Knowledge, while it can be both useful and useless in the same breath, comes with a price, my dear. Are you willing to take a deal knowing this?" There was no guarantee he would've given the information you needed in the first place. But it was always a back up if the little information in the books and what you could recall of eels on Earth were like.

"The eel’s skin is very sensitive to touch, which helps it to "see" in its watery environment. However, it is not recommended to touch eels, especially those that are above 3 feet long, as they can potentially hurt you during care. Some of the smaller species, such as the various dragon moray eels, also need special attention due to their long and curved teeth. Little is known about how eels mature as there is no information on how they reproduce." The video explained. You quickly clicked through the video.

Ace just rolled his eyes as you took notes in a small black notebook in the comfort of your dorm common room. "Wouldn't you like to understand the twins?" Deuce asked.

" I mean, yeah, I would, but. " Ace began, "but I'm not using animals to compare them too." Deuce nodded as Ace finished

"But I have nothing to go off of!" You announced as you paused the video. "Azul acts like an octopus at times. Leona sleeps as much as a lion does. I mean, Jack wags his tell when someone calls him a good boy. I'm not saying they are animals, but they do share similarities." Ace just looked at you and shook his head as you explained. "Ace please, I'm grasping at straws at this point."

He just signed and unpaused the educational video. "Don't expect me to take notes."

[syoish-aot]

"I Found You" - EREN/READER - REVERSE ISEKAI (part 4)

reverse isekai, time travel, memory loss

post canon (in a weird roundabout way)

reader/eren

word count: 1411

** note: I edited and moved around some stuff in part 2 and part 3 (that's just how it is when I'm posting rough drafts) so it might be worth going back to reread those parts. The important changes are: they're actually at the soft open of Niccolo's restaurant, Mikasa isn't there yet (because she's flying in from out of town), and I took out the Sasha/Mikasa engagement because I have another idea that works better for later. **

<- PART 3 | PART 5 ->

*****

“The fuck do you mean ‘awake’?” Eren asked after Armin and Jean had immediately pulled him into the bathroom, since it was the only place they’d have some semblance of privacy.

“Eren it’s- um…” Armin stuttered as he began to fiddle with his hands before he turned to Jean. “Y-You should-”

“Already did it.” Jean quickly said as he slid his phone into his back pocket.

Eren scowled. “Did wha-” 

Suddenly the door burst open. “I JUST GOT JEAN’S TEXT IS EREN REALLY-” Connie cut himself off as he stood in the doorway- eyes wide, face flushed, staring right at Eren. “...holy shit…” He mumbled.

Eren continued to scowl, still extremely confused.

“Move! Move! Move!!” Sasha pushed past him, causing Connie to stumble out of the way and fully into the bathroom. “I knew it would happen soon! I fucking knew it!! I have a sense for these sorts of things you know. It was the same thing when Jean woke up. I had been craving baked potatoes for weeks and then-”

“Sasha, calm down.” Armin cut her off. “We don’t want to overwhelm him, alright?”

“Overwhelm me with what!?” Eren exclaimed. “Seriously what the hell is-”

“What’s the last thing you remember, Eren?” Armin asked as he placed his hands on Eren’s shoulders and forced the other man to look at him.

Eren’s stomach sank as the memories flooded his vision. Smoke. The stomping of footsteps. Streaming from the people below him. A blade drawn lightning quick.

Falling.

And then nothing.

“I-...” Eren’s head fell as his hands trembled at his sides. “I remember- I remember everything.” His voice hitched. “Everything I did. Everything I forced all of you to do because of it- all those people I killed and-”

“Eren.”

Suddenly Armin’s arms were wrapped around him, pulling him tightly into a hug just like the hug he’d given him the last time they’d seen each other but also-

…also nothing like that at all.

“It’s alright now.” Armin told him softly. “None of that matters anymore.”

Eren scoffed. “How can it not matter?”

“Because none of that happened here.” Armin told him. “We don’t-... we don’t really get it either but for some reason after we all lived our lives back then, we came here.”

“But…” Eren practically whispered. “...where is here?”

“Here is where everyone is alive. Where we’re all together and we don’t have to worry about death or fighting or titans or anything like that. Here we can just-...” Armin pulled away from his friend and smiled at him, eyes glistening with tears. He looked so relieved as he finished his words: “... here is where everyone can live, Eren.”

“Everyone?” Eren asked.

“Yeah.” Armin told him. “Everyone.”

Eren’s eyes moved from Armin to Jean, Sasha, and Connie. Outside of the room there were more people too, more people he knew from his past life that had somehow ended up here. Everyone in the restaurant was someone he’d crossed at some point in his past; someone who, apparently, had memories of that past but understood it was different from where they were now.

Everyone except for one of them.

Except the person Eren didn’t know from his past, and for some reason had only met in the future.

He’d watched you get ready that morning. Smiling and joking around as you filled him in on the most random gossip of the friend group. A group of people that you were apparently a part of. The way you talked about everyone indicated that you knew them well, maybe even as well as he did.

Eren’s eyebrows tightened together in frustration as he thought of you. He had to know: “Then who’s-”

The bathroom door suddenly burst open.

“There you guys are!” You exclaimed. “Not to ruin your secret bathroom meeting or anything, but Niccolo wants to make a toast.”

Everyone’s eyes were locked on you, each one of them resembling a deer in headlights. You can’t help laughing at their expressions. “What?” You asked.

Armin took a quick breath.

Jean swallowed a lump in his throat.

Sasha coughed.

Eren tried to avoid your eyes, feeling unsettled by the idea of meeting your gaze. The way everyone else was acting indicated that you didn’t know anything about this. About them. About how, apparently, all of them had wound up here in some sort of second chance at life. 

They couldn’t raise suspicion.

So Connie bravely broke the silence: “It’s um- It’s Jean,” he stuttered. “He’s-... he’s constipated!”

Yeah.

Yeah that wasn’t suspicious at all.

***

“So… um, I guess that’s all I have to say.” Nicolo concluded his toast with an awkward laugh. “Thank you all for your support, even when that support-” he turned to Sasha, who was tucked under his arm and smiling up at her fiance as he addressed the room, “-sometimes means eating all of my imported truffles.”

“I told you that was an accident!” Sasha defended, playfully smacking him on the chest.

Niccolo laughed and kissed her forehead before everyone raised their glasses in a toast.

You grinned as your arm fell and you took a sip of your champagne. Your nose scrunched at the bitter taste. Wine had never been your thing.

You turned to Eren, who was standing next to you staring into his own glass. 

“Don’t tell me you’re already considering cutting yourself off.” You teased. “Last night you were raving about how you were going to drink Jean under the table again.”

“Yeah..” Eren mumbled. “I um… yeah.”

Your smile fell as you watched him. He looked so trapped in thought. Thoughts he would normally share with you, but right now you knew there was no way he’d do that. You’d spent all morning trying to get into his head and having him push you out.

Eren was right next to you.

But… he’d never felt so far away. 

“I don’t know what happened.” Eren told you, when you were nineteen and he disappeared for an entire night.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

Eren shrugged as he poured himself a glass of water and leaned against the kitchen counter. “I wanted to go for a walk, so I did and then- I dunno. Must have hit my head or something because I woke up back in bed.”

“Eren, you’re acting really casually about this. Maybe we should call your dad…”

You watched Eren’s body tense, just like it always did at the mention of Grisha Jaeger. 

Eren stared into his glass of water, getting lost in his own reflection. For a moment you didn’t recognize him. For a moment he was a stranger.

You didn’t know what else to say, so you said nothing.

Thankfully, after that he bounced back. After that he was Eren. Just Eren.

Until right now, almost six years later, he wasn’t “Just Eren” at all.

He was someone else. The same “someone” that had gotten lost in the woods all those years ago.

Your hand slowly moved from your side and your fingers brushed softly against his. Eren jumped, as if your touch was something intimidating as opposed to comforting.

You began to pull away from him, worried that you’d make things even worse if you continued to push.

But, just as your fingers parted from his, his hand quickly reached out to take yours.

“Don’t.” He told you softly, still staring into his untouched glass of champagne. “I-...”

Eren’s heart clenched as your hand curled against his, returning his hold and sending a wave of warmth up his entire arm. He still didn’t know who you were but he knew this. He knew you hand in his and the way it made his heart soar. 

“It’s okay, Eren.” You said softly as you gave his hand a soft squeeze. “I’m not going anywhere.”

For some reason, those words made everything seem okay.

***

Mikasa pulled herself into the taxi with a short sigh. Her flight hadn’t been long, but flying had always made her uncomfortable. Thankfully it was over, and soon she’d be celebrating with her friends.

A small smile tugged at her lips at the thought of seeing everyone again. She stared out the window, watching  the city pass by in a blur.

Her phone buzzed and she looked down to see a group chat notification.

Expecting it to be Sasha, likely asking how much longer she was going to take to get there, her eyes widened when she read two simple words:

[anticidic]

Got Fyozai on the mind, so obviously time to yap about them.

I can't really get behind the whole Fyodor and Dazai hate each other, because I don't see anything resembling actual hate between them. The situation between them is more business-like: Fyodor's bad, Dazai doesn't agree with his views on humanity, and they inevitably become thorns in each other's sides because of the obvious conflict of interest. Dazai's out to stop Fyodor's plans, and because he's an obstacle, Fyodor needs to remove him. There's nothing emotionally charged going on.

I think, if anything, Dazai, at one point in his life, came dangerously close to adapting an outlook of the world similar to Fyodor's, but that changed because of various people in his life, notably Oda. Oda told Dazai to be on the side that saved people, and in a roundabout way, Oda saved Dazai from himself before he fell too deep into a void he wouldn't come out of.

That's how I see current Fyodor: he didn't have people like that in his life to either challenge his look on humanity, or maybe even people justified Fyodor's extreme beliefs and he's who we have today. I've said it before, but yeah, I see them more as foils of one another.

Other people refer to them as monsters, or Fyodor is likened/compared to Dazai, but when they interact, Dazai will call Fyodor a demon, but Fyodor never refers to him in a similar fashion. Fyodor speaks in a more casual manner toward Dazai like how you would address an old friend, which could also suggest how he sees Dazai as similar to him instead of reducing him to a sinning ability user in need of salvation.

Fyodor is who Dazai could've been. Not in the literal sense, but in a fell from grace, and no one can reach him anymore way.

And I think the LACK of hate between them speaks greater volumes than anything that might be implied. As far as we know, Dazai's one of the closest to understanding Fyodor on an intellectual level, and all that really separates them are their views of the world and humanity.

Dazai and Fyodor have known each other a long time; Fyodor's been mentioned in The Day I Picked Up Dazai—and I'd love a light novel of their actual first meeting—BUT ANYWAY. They were more like two peas in a pod back then when Dazai was just twiddling his thumbs and seeking purpose and something greater to life while in the mafia, and I feel like he was blind at the time to realizing how similar their beliefs were at that time because it became an echo chamber. Then after Oda and defecting, Dazai can actually take a step back to realize and understand that his younger self had once been a part of what Fyodor was and is.

Which leads me to the events in Meursault when Fyodor believed that Dazai and Chuuya's partnership was fickle and the 7 years was worthless because Fyodor was judging Dazai based on his old Port Mafia self and believing he knew Dazai too well at that point. Fyodor hasn't changed since they met because he doesn't trust others, but Dazai's changed and it manages to fool Fyodor.

Fyodor's doing bad things and Dazai's done bad things, don't get me wrong, but I feel like over time as Dazai established himself with the ADA and slowly learned to change his look on life as he surrounded himself with better people in a better environment that didn't simply see him as a tool for a greater, sinister cause, he probably understands on an intellectual level what would drive a man like Fyodor to these lengths. Naturally, Dazai doesn't agree, and that's why they're enemies trying to get each other out of the way, but I sense that unspoken sort of, 'I understand, terribly.', because it's like looking in the mirror to see what could have been. Dazai considers having his ability a curse, and Fyodor's motivated by his own experiences and the curse of his own ability to do what he's doing.

Removing them from the canon world, they manage to get along in Gakuen and get up to silly nonsense in Wan!, so when placed back into the original world, I see, personally, how it becomes more obvious where the line is drawn between them and the point they become enemies. Dazai would rather remove himself from the world, whereas Fyodor believes he's solving a worldwide crisis by removing all ability users.

And now by standing up against Fyodor, Dazai's challenging dangerous beliefs his old self once had which could've continued down a dark path. Like quite literally fighting against a demon, as Dazai has referred to Fyodor, but more like his own inner demons.

[wren-kitchens]

i guess i’m human no more

4732 words

joel is extremely used to the vast amount of feathers he finds in their bed (and his mouth) every morning—going so far as to know which yellow feather is from jimmy's wings or grian's (jimmy's have more brown hues in). joel essentially knows their wings off by heart, and has been teased endlessly after that one time he accidentally revealed this fact to grian.  despite all this, there's- there is a bit of a situation. it's- there's a new colour feather.

good LORD this has taken me a while to finish. judas had the incredible idea of watchers/listeners being contagious to people they're emotionally close to in MAY and here I am in december only just finishing the oneshot for it

I did in fact go wild with this one. there are many headcanons and so much bad boys because I love them

CW: body horror, gore

there are too many feathers in their bed.

this is extremely ordinary—in fact, joel would be concerned if there were a normal amount of feathers in their bed, because it would mean that jimmy and grian had just been laying completely still. after sleeping in the same bed as them for a week or so, joel has learnt that this seems to be physically impossible for either of them to do. every single morning, joel has woken up with jimmy and grian sprawled in increasingly unlikely positions on top of him and each other (which is kind of sweet), and at least three feathers in his mouth (which is kind of gross).

that's not even to mention how many feathers they shed when they stretch their wings out. honestly, joel wonders if he should just attach a bin bag to their wings and see just how many feathers they can amass in a single day; it'd be an interesting experiment. although, the most they shed is when they're preening, which- okay, he can no longer get annoyed with them when they leave the piles of fluff on the floor—not since they let him help. now he knows how loopy they get, joel understands why they'd forget to tidy up. 

(joel wouldn’t admit this at gunpoint, but he's never felt so.. okay- it's- it will sound silly, but so trusted, than when jimmy suggested joel help, and grian agreed. there are very few things so intimate than preening, as joel has learnt, and the idea that they would ask him for help with something that personal makes his head spin.)

all of this to say, joel is extremely used to the vast amount of feathers he finds in their bed (and his mouth) every morning—going so far as to know which yellow feather is from jimmy's wings or grian's (jimmy's have more brown hues in). joel essentially knows their wings off by heart, and has been teased endlessly after that one time he accidentally revealed this fact to grian. 

despite all this, there's- there is a bit of a situation. it's- there's a new colour feather.

it doesn’t sound that weird, but- no one else on the server has wings with the pattern on the feathers joel has started finding, so there's no way it just rubbed off someone else and fell off here. it's a kind of orangey-beige, with dark brown marking; something joel knows is not a pattern on anyone else's wings on this server. it could be a weird glitch, if grian or jimmy have different markings on another server, and at some point their wings lagged or something. yeah, that makes sense.

so much sense, in fact, that joel didn't bother telling grian or jimmy about it—which apparently was about to bite him in the ass. 

-

if joel has to spend one more second trying to be diplomatic with scott, whilst being shot looks that very plainly tell him to chill out, he's going to stab someone. especially as martyn and grian are clearly arguing about something or other in the most roundabout way possible, and jimmy keeps backing grian up. joel has no idea what either of them are actually arguing about, and apparently neither does scott, which is only some consolation. also- not necessarily related to this situation, but joel must have slept funny or something, because his back has been aching all day, which is not adding very much to this experience.

"look- I don’t want you to be my ally any more than you want to be mine," joel says, thoroughly exasperated. "but you and your allies seem to be fundamentally immortal in these games."

scott raises an amused eyebrow, clearly entertained by joel's attempts at formality. dickhead. "so, you’re trying to profit off my skill?"

joel scoffs, stretching his neck in the hopes of lessening some of the pain in his back. "you say that like it's a bad thing. you know, I-"

"no- you’re being ridiculous!" martyn interrupts, half shouting and apparently unaware of the commotion he’s causing. "it's downright irresponsible-"

"and what do you think you’re doing?" grian's wings have puffed up in anger. "you realise that out of everyone you could turn-"

"which is exactly why i’m not going to." martyn insists. joel has no idea what either of them are talking about, but it's better than arguing with scott.

jimmy barks a laugh. "there are more than one reasons you’re wrong there-"

"you can’t talk!" martyn jabs a finger at him. "how would you know-"

"how would I know?" jimmy says, voice slipping from indignation to anger. "how would- do you remember, martyn, who turned me?"

joel's back gives a sharp stab of pain, and he winces at it. maybe he pulled a muscle or something when he was swimming up the side of the mansion with building materials. 

scott looks at him. "what are you doing?"

"you- what?" joel glares back instinctively, which scott apparently finds funny. "i’m not doing anything?"

"if you say so." scott turns back to the argument.

joel scoffs, folding his arms- and instantly regrets it as a spasm shoots up his back. void- what did he do to himself? it seems like it's getting worse as the day goes on, which does not happen with muscle strains- as far as he remembers, anyway. scott glances at him again, and joel pretends he hasn't noticed.

" -hen you should know better." martyn's voice is cold, but there's something like regret lacing his tone. joel feels like he’s missed at least five chapters- what are they on about? "you know the risks-"

"you know the risks firsthand, martyn." grian steps forward. "and do you truly think They will take kindly-" 

"of course They won't, but it's not going to happen." martyn hisses.

whatever joel has managed to do to himself seems to be worsening by the second- demonstrated by the pounding behind his eyes that seems to have materialised out of nowhere. cool- great, this is exactly what he needs right now: more pain. he closes his eyes for a moment, in the hope that the lack of light might alleviate the throbbing pain. it does not help at all—in fact, it just makes him feel a little unstable, since he can no longer see where he’s stood. 

he's- wait, what- did joel open his eyes and not notice? that- no, that's definitely- what the fuck? is the game glitching, or is-

"joel?" scott's voice is uncomfortably close to his ear, and joel's eyes snap open (how the fuck could he still see). "are- what-" (why does scott look scared.)

"you- that's not normal." joel's voice sounds so far away from his body. does he have double vision?

pearl looks over at bigb from where she's been laying upside-down against the wall. she says something that looks like, "I have an idea." but no sound comes out.

maybe he just needs to lie down- it's probably fine. it's just- he has some kind of fever- he just needs to have a nap.

grian is too busy trying to stop both himself and jimmy from attacking martyn to notice that anything is wrong.

someone grabs his arm-

joel lists sideways, and scott manages to catch him on instinct before he completely topples over. his eyes- they've definitely not always been purple.

grian looks over, panic rising in his chest like bile as he realises the worst has happened- 

"can- is there-" joel's breath is coming far too quickly- is he even breathing anymore? "I don't-"

someone is grabbing his shoulders, and there are too many faces to even- decipher who it is. he might be on the floor- there's something that could be grass under his hands, and someone is talking- who is talking? joel doesn’t want- he doesn’t like any of this. can he go home?

his mind swims, bursts of colour and movement flashing before him, gone before he even has time to understand what they are. head pounding, faces blur his vision- some he recognises, some he can't even begin to process if they are actually faces by the time they've vanished. people are shouting what might be his name and everything is- there's too much- there's way too much-

amidst the chaos, there's a gentle pressure against his forehead, and all of a sudden-

"I- grian?" joel is- he’s looking at grian. he’s only looking at grian. 

grian's eyes are fading from purple back to black, and he looks so worried, joel is almost embarrassed. "i’m- void, i’m so sorry."

joel's chest is tight with fear, and now he isn't dealing with- whatever just happened, he realises that his back has begun to hurt a lot more than it already was. "what- what the fuck was that."

"it- that was my fault." grian drops his hands from joel's shoulders, and joel immediately misses the warmth, but he’s too focused on how guilty grian looks right now. "i’m- I was reckless- I knew what might happen, but I-"

"what happened?" joel says, almost exasperated. his back is killing him, and he doesn't know what's going on, and he just wants to go back to the mansion and curl up in their bed. "I don't- I don't care whose fault it is, I just- what was that?"

grian looks like he might cry, and that might just be the worst part of all of this. "you- so. you know what I am, right?"

"I- yeah?" joel remembers suddenly that scott and martyn are still here. "I- I know."

"well, that- if I get.. too close to someone, they-" grian's breath catches in his throat, and he coughs. joel wants to hug him, but- even the thought of lifting his arms that high makes his stomach turn. why does everything hurt so much? "it. it happens to them, too."

joel stares for a second, brain sluggish against the pain and overwhelm as he tries to understand what grian actually means. it takes a moment, but it begins to dawn on him. "you're saying- no, that wasn't-" he looks over at jimmy, half expecting to find him grinning. he is more solemn than joel has ever seen him. "that can't be- possible, I don't-"

"what did you see?" jimmy asks, and this is ludicrous, but-

"pearl and bigb." joel's head feels foggy, his spine burning at his flesh. "I- me, but, from scott's point of view. and my eyes were- wrong, I don't-" he takes a breath. "why did you not tell me?"

"selfishness, mostly." grian says softly. "there's no excuse."

"what- I just don't-" joel's breath is starting to feel laboured again as he tries to concentrate on his words and not how it feels as if his back is being sliced open. "why does it hurt?" his voice slips into something so vulnerable, joel is almost thankful that he’s too distracted to care that scott is right behind him. 

for the first time, confusion flits across grian's expression, coupled with a concerning amount of panic. "I- hurt? what hurts?" 

before joel can remember how to string the words together, scott is saying, "I- joel, take your jacket off."

grian looks as confused as joel feels, but scott sounds weirdly serious and joel is in too much pain to argue. "it- I can’t. it hurts to move."

"what's going on?" jimmy says, closer than he was a second ago.

"I would have thought you'd know." scott is saying, and joel is about to accept his fate and hit him when he finishes- "he’s growing wings."

there's a moment in which all joel can think is that he probably should have mentioned those feathers he kept finding in their bed, until there's a resounding squawk of- "what?"

"makes sense." joel grits out, if only because the juxtaposition is funny. if joel can’t commit to the bit in any situation, who even is he? "don't- don't suppose you have potions?"

"martyn, can you grab a golden apple?" scott says, stepping in front of joel—who is not happy that his best bet right now is scott smajor. he’s not so stubborn as to not accept his help though. "grian, help him take the jacket off. cut it off if needs-"

"you are- you are not ruining my jacket." joel manages to look up in order to glare at scott, but he falters as he takes in how concerned scott's expression is. scott notices him looking, and his face turns blank.

"fine- take the jacket off then, or it will get ruined." scott scoffs, turning away to watch martyn grab the apple.

"can you- are you gonna explain what is going on?" grian says, somewhat more desperate than joel thinks he meant to sound. "how is- why is this-"

a spasm of pain wracks joel's body, and he suppresses a scream as he falls forward on his arms, shaking a little. his breathing is heavy again- he just wants it to be over. 

"if I die," joel manages, head swimming. "will- can I just-" he can’t muster up the energy to finish the sentence, but the desperation in it seems to be conveyed. can it just be over?

"I don’t know." scott says, and despite it all, the helplessness in his voice brings joel some sense of vindication. so he doesn’t know everything.

"okay, i’m- i’m gonna take your jacket off." grian says, more panicked than joel knows he wants to sound. "can you- is that possible?"

joel lets grian move around him, barely lifting each arm as grian guides the sleeve of the jacket off his shoulders. as soon as the first sleeve comes off, joel finds himself relaxing ever so slightly at the lack of pressure against his spine. he should probably make that vest bigger.

"why- why is this-" joel can barely manage half of that sentence before the pain becomes too much, but scott seems to understand what he was trying to ask.

"i don't- i’m not sure." scott says, more panicked than joel thinks he’s heard him in a long while. "I just- this kind of thing happened to me in double life, but I still don't understand-"

"oh void." grian says suddenly, and joel has to resist the impulse to turn his head. "I thought i’d- it shouldn't be possible anymore-"

"what shouldn't be possible?" jimmy says, with a sense of urgency joel has never heard from him before.

grian hesitates for a moment, and joel recognises it—grian always does this when he's about to say something either bizarre or embarrassing. or both, more often than not. "the game- it thinks we're soulbound." 

there's a pause as everyone seems to process this ridiculous information, before jimmy says, "it- but why does it hurt? tango grew wings in double life, and he didn't even notice until his shirt got torn."

"there's- it's a.. thing." grian audibly winces as he speaks, as if he knows exactly how terrible whatever he’s going to say will sound and is preemptively apologetic. of course. "the closer soulmates are—like, emotionally close, I mean—the less painful it is- and vice versa. but- the game thinks we're soulmates, which. I assume is- is 'cause we're close. so since we're not actually soulbound-"

"it thinks that must be distance." scott realises. joel is gonna murder someone once he regains the use of his body.

joel groans, dropping his head to the ground in exhausted exasperation. "why's everything so.. weirdwith you?" he manages. 

"i’m so sorry." grian says, voice quiet enough that joel thinks only he was meant to hear it. 

joel is about to tell him not to worry about it when a kind of pain he’s never felt before in his life shoots through his back- and the ripping of flesh is all he can hear, a scream forcing its way from his mouth- primeval and torturous. he’s never felt pain before- he’s never felt death before- there can be nothing worse than this.

it feels like years until joel realises that he is beginning to see shapes again, that there are other noises in the world other than his own whimpers of agony, that the terrible tearing is not all he can feel anymore. there's something that feels like a viscous kind of liquid against his skin, and a sickly sweet smell that he can’t quite name. healing potion, joel recognises as the pain begins to lessen. 

after a long moment, joel finds himself able to push himself into a sitting position- and almost falls backwards as newfound weight pulls him down again. jimmy is in front of him all of a sudden, catching his shoulders and wiping something wet off his face. it could be tears, or blood, or potion—joel has no idea. 

"you- you with us?" jimmy asks, a scared-looking smile on his face, as if trying to reassure joel of something he can't bring himself to trust. "you’re not- you’re feeling better?"

joel nods, suddenly exhausted and more thankful than he realised for the warmth of jimmy's hands against his arms. "you- you guys are such nerds."

jimmy grins, looking ridiculously relieved at being insulted, and there's a soft laugh from next to him that sounds like grian. "yeah?" jimmy says. "how's that?"

"not- not sure if I misheard, but." joel takes a breath, and jimmy squeezes his arm gently. "'think you care about me so much that the game thinks we're soulmates. and you- you turned me into a watcher, or something." joel manages a grin. 

"yeah. you heard right." jimmy says, and there's a rush of affection in joel's chest. "I- do you want to lie down or something, 'cause you look like you’re about to pass out."

joel answers by shuffling slowly forwards and falling onto jimmy—far too tired and in far too much pain to let the embarrassment stop him. jimmy gives a slight gasp of worry, before wrapping his arms around joel's waist, lower than joel expected him to. it takes a second for him to remember that- he has wings now, which are probably in the way of normal hugs. jimmy presses a kiss into joel's hair, and he makes a soft sound of content.

"sorry I took so long." martyn's voice comes from somewhere behind him, more nervous than joel thinks he’s heard him in a while. man, he should grow wings more often if it makes everyone this scared. how's that for a trap? "we didn’t- I wasn't sure you’d be able to eat the apple-"

martyn's explanation is reduced to white noise in joel's ears, and- void, he’s tired. jimmy's heartbeat is audible from where joel is leant against him, and he can almost feel the way his own heart stutters to catch up; he wonders if grian's heart is at the same pace, with whatever this bizarre game has done to deign them unofficial soulmates. he wishes he had enough energy to pull grian into their hug and see for himself if their hearts all beat in unison now.

something occurs to him all of a sudden, and joel closes his eyes. he isn’t sure- and now probably is the worst time to try this kind of thing out, when he has no idea how any of it works, but maybe he can.. do something with this whole watcher thing. 

joel feels as if he’s trying to use a muscle that doesn’t exist—like some kind of phantom limb—but after a moment, grian's face comes into view. it's easier than he thought it'd be. almost like controlling a timelapse drone, but with your mind, and also the video is directly transmitted into your brain. it's pretty cool.

there's a stab of regret as joel stops congratulating himself on such a good job, and actually takes in the amount of guilt etched into every line of grian's face. his stomach drops as he turns (kind of? he sorta- uh. hard to explain, actually) and sees that jimmy is wearing a painfully similar expression. almost scared to see, joel looks at martyn and scott, and is at least vaguely reassured to see that they just look worried. frankly, if joel ever saw scott looking guilty because of joel, he'd have to end his own series. 

"it- it's not your fault y'know." joel manages—more of a mumble than anything else, but grian and jimmy both seem to know he’s talking to them. "'s kinda cool. I should probably thank you."

grian is looking at him- or, maybe his.. watcher drone? either way, he seems to know he’s being looked at. "I am sorry, either way." he says, but he doesn’t look as devastated as he did a moment ago. "I didn’t- I should have told you what could happen."

joel snorts. "if you thought I was about to turn down cool powers and wings, you don’t know me well enough." he finds that it's getting somehow easier to speak, despite being exhausted, and he remembers the healing potion still travelling through his veins. he never thought he'd be this thankful for martyn- probably ever.

grian smiles, and it feels as if a knot in joel's chest has dissipated. "you’re definitely getting the hang of it."

jimmy hums in agreement. "it's not called a drone though." he says, and it very suddenly occurs to joel what a listener must be able to do. "I- did you not already know?"

"how was I meant to?" joel huffs, watching with slight embarrassment as jimmy smiles at it. "you’re a secretive lot."

"so- and I hate to disrupt this," scott suddenly says, and joel suppresses an instinctive groan. "but do you need any more help?"

there's a mischievous kind of look that flashes across grian's face, if only for a second, and joel can't help but feel reassured by the fact that he's getting back to normal. "well- we could use a couple allies?"

scott sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I can’t really turn you down now, can I?" he says, and there's a weird kind of tone that makes joel wonder if he’s actually as annoyed as he’s putting on. 

"I just grew wings." joel mumbles, unintentionally quiet but apparently effectively sympathetic, as even martyn seems to be swayed. look at him go. "'can’t just.. throw us to the wolves now."

scott rubs his face with a hand, clearly throughly exasperated at how easily he has been won over. "yeah- okay, fine. we can be allies." 

"thanks." jimmy grins a little, and joel watches as scott softens ever so slightly at it. 

joel opens his eyes, and he’s once again staring into the coral reef, facing away from everyone else. jimmy's hand is in his hair, and his back is only aching now. he’s a little worried to move, in case it all starts feeling abysmal again, but he can hardly spend the rest of his 24 hours on the mean gills' bridge.

"I could carry you." jimmy suggests, and joel makes a noise of concern—thinking about how precarious they've made their base. "that's- yeah, that's a good point." 

"could you try to stand?" grian says tentatively. his voice sounds closer than it was a moment ago, and there's a hand on joel's shoulder that has to be grian's. "the pain shouldn't get too much worse, since the potion has actually fixed a lot of the wounds."

joel wonders if grian can read minds too, or if he just knows what joel would be thinking. he doesn’t think he can read minds, which suggests that- maybe grian just knows him that well. it's a nice thought. 

he pushes himself slightly more upward, regretful as he leaves the warmth of jimmy's embrace- and immediately begins to fall backwards again, once again completely forgetting how unbalanced he is now. both jimmy and grian make noises of panic before joel catches himself before he topples all the way over, and he can’t help grinning despite the twinge of pain the sudden movement shoots through his back- and wings, which is a bizarre feeling. 

"I might need some help not falling over." joel grins, as grian stands up and lends him a hand. "but it doesn’t hurt that much anymore."

"that's good." grian says, a wave of relief overtaking his expression. joel squeezes his hand, and grian smiles. 

jimmy is at his side before joel realises. "maybe we avoid bread bridge for a bit." he says, and joel snorts.

the journey back to the mansion is not nearly as perilous as joel had worried it'd be, considering that it's day and anyone they bumped into seemed to notice the dried blood accompanying the very large wings on joel's back and presumably decided that trying to kill them now would just be rude. the downright murderous looks from both jimmy and grian when someone came a little too close with a weapon, or made just a bit too serious of a threat probably also helped.

instead of attempt to swim with the unfamiliar weight of his newgrown wings, joel elects to pillar up instead. jimmy and grian hover next to him, climbing onto trees and swimming up the water in some attempt to provide a safety net if he falls. admittedly, it's quite sweet- not that he's about to tell them that. he instead settles on insisting that he knows how to pillar up, and praying to every deity that might exist for him not to fall off immediately.

luckily, no one falls or dies or whatever, and they all make it to the top of the mansion in one piece. joel is prepared to pass out in their bed as soon as he reaches it, but he doesn’t really want his bad boys to worry even more at his exhaustion.

as if reading his mind- oh. he forgot- yeah, he can actually do that, can't he? it- anyway, jimmy plops himself down, and gestures for grian and joel to join him—which joel happily obliges. grian almost hesitates, but joel drags him along, and grian doesn't even bother protesting. 

joel lays next to jimmy, and grian—who followed quickly after him—pulls him into a hug. huffing softly, joel hugs back. "it's okay." he mumbles into grian's shoulder. "I promise- i'd say something if it weren't."

"I know." grian half-whispers, clearly fighting tears. "i’m- I just can’t get over- I did this to you."

joel swallows more emotion than he expected. "yeah. but- it's- it's 'cause you care. it's not- I can’t hate that." grian makes a little noise that could be a suppressed sob. 

"thank you." joel can barely make it out, but he can’t help but blink back tears at the honesty in it- from grian, of all people, that means a lot.

his wings are still sore, and moving them sends an ache down his back, but joel finds himself wanting to wrap them around grian. "I just- I also- y’know. care." joel says, kind of hoping it's too muffled for either grian or jimmy to hear. "it's- I like having.. I don’t know, a piece of you guys with me." 

grian sniffles, holding joel tighter. "I- dude, you’re- you’re gonna make me cry."

"join the club." joel huffs a laugh, eyes burning. he buries his face in grian's jumper in the hopes that it'll wipe away any tears that come. 

there's a very quiet clearing of someone's throat next to them—unmistakably jimmy. joel doesn’t even need to look up to know he’s also trying not to start crying, and he blindly reaches out a hand until he finds jimmy's shirt and pulls him towards them both. grian catches on, shifting a little to make room for their bad boy. 

"I- I didn’t wanna ruin the moment." jimmy is saying as both grian and joel drag him into the hug. 

joel can't help smiling as he feels jimmy wrap his arms around him, which- it's embarrassing, but weirdly, he doesn’t even care. "as if either of you could ruin anything." he scoffs, almost to himself. 

there's a kiss pressed into his hair, and grian laughs as joel rolls his eyes (if only to disguise how much he appreciates it). "bad boys for life, right?"

jimmy mhms along as joel grins, "bad boys for life."

[blazehedgehog]

Today, in something extremely nerdy: I'm pretty sure I have a distant, roundabout cameo in today's Civvie11 about Castlevania. It's not really a cameo but let me have this

At a few points in the video, particularly early on, Civvie uses a VCR font, and I'm 90% sure that's my VCR font, "Kindly Rewind." I made it because the only VCR fonts I could find (at the time) wanted you to pay for them -- we're talking, like, a hundred bucks for a font. That's what you charge a big rich production company, which I am not. So I made my own and released it for free.

And the moment this font came up in Civvie's Castlevania video, I immediately squinted at it. There are differences between the paid VCR fonts and mine, deliberate differences, because I didn't want anyone pointing fingers at me and shouting piracy. So I kind of know my font when I see it.

So I pulled up the font and yeah, I think that's my font.

The square interior of the R, the way the quotation marks are a little bit below the text, the thickness of the letters...

This is mainly notable for me because this is the first time I've ever actually seen anyone use this font in the wild. And here it is in a Civvie video of all places.

That's pretty cool.

[primordial-shade]

Gorgon partner headcanons

Right right right right

Ok ok So Gorgons.

I have a personal headcannon for these guys. I will say they are descended from the original 3 Gorgon sisters.

They have snakes for hair, scaled skin, walk on two legs that can shift into a massive snake tail.

Can be male or female, do have the ‘paralysing stare’ but unlike their divine ancestors it only stuns for a short period of time, paralysing the attacker rather than turning them to stone.

They can also control it thanks to a third, transparent, eyelid

They come in numerous colour patterns and live mostly in warm environments around the Mediterranean sea. In fact there are hidden villages on Gorgons hidden.

Live very Modern-Ancient Greece. But more feminism, lots more feminism. They ancestors were all women by the way.

How were the species born? By the three original Gorgons mating with humans or through divine parthenogenesis.

Anyway to help genetics, and because they are all related, Gorgons tend to mate with humans and no matter gender they can sire or carry eggs. Any child will also be a gorgon.

Now that I have gotten my hypothesising out of the way, onto the stuff.

SFW:

At first Gorgons are not extremely physically affectionate. In fact you may be hard pressed to even know if they like you at first. But do not be fooled! Their hard outer shells hold extremely squishy insides.

They are probably internally going absolutely fucking crazy over you. Overthinking every move they make, each interactions they have with you.

Outside face: -.-

Inside: Ok ok, be cool. The pretty human is talking to you- gods their eyes are beautiful, should I tell them? No that would be weird! Maybe I can mention it in a roundabout day- Oh.My.Gods they called my scales PRETTY!!!!!! MARRY ME YOU GORGEOUS HUMAN!

Yeah poor little guys are messes, they are quite reserves as a species.

Very much on the gift-giving and acts of service way of showing affection. But more along the way that if you mention needing something done they’ll do it. Like if you mention you have an issue with your car they’ll fic it or arrange for it to be fixed the same hour. Also very much on the spectrum of if you mention you like something they will make sure you have it every day. Use this power wisely.

Most Gorgons you meet will also have large vegetable and fruit gardens and also some form of animal. As a species a big part of their courting to be able to feed and provide for their mate. They also live in a part of the world great for crops.

They also build their homes partly into the earth. These homes are highly decorated and built with the intention for the Gorgons lifestyle. Whether its just for themselves, just for partners, or for future families. Homes also tend to be connected underground, making multigenerational neighbourhoods.

Once you actually enter into a relationship with a Gorgon things rev up.

Gift giving leans away from more practical to more indulgent, as do acts of service. They also slowly become more communicative about their emotions. Its still rather laconic but they’ll say emotionally devastating shit that will rock your world outta the fucking blue.

Like shit you’ll be washing up the dishes after dinner and they’ll turn to you and say some shit like “I am descended from the divine, and even I feel myself go mad from the beauty of your smile.” And then will turn back and begin drying the fucking dishes like nothing happened.

Meanwhile your ass is standing there having had your shit rocked on a spectral level and your deciding whether to cry, kiss them or make them see stars right then and there.

ALSO! Also also also. Snakes for hair.

These guys have snakes for hair that are semi-independent. I sort of debate on them being extensions of their gorgons mind but being individual in a sort of way.

These little guys are key to their Gorgons emotions. The hair will give it away peeps.

Whilst they will stay relatively neutral before a relationship properly occurs the snakes will pay more attention to you than anyone else.

Once the relationship begins the little snakes will be all over you. Hissing and nudging and kissing your face little snakey kisses when you’re close.

And gods if you pet them?? Good luck getting your hand back babe, the snakes are keeping it, pets forever.

Also as your Gorgon gets more comfortable with initiating physical contact it will be hard for them to stop bless them. They’ll probably use the old adage of ‘but baby I’m cold blooded!!’ to eek out more cuddle time.

Also in the cold months they will stick to you like glue. It doesn’t get freezing in the Mediterranean but the poor babies are cold blooded. Any unnecessary trips outside are vetoed and they make more use of the Thermal Hot springs they usually build their towns around.

They will damn near climb into your clothes if a breeze hits them. They don’t like the cold >:(

NSFW

Iiiiiittttttss Sexy time!

Hahaha lets go.

First lets talk About the paralysing stare, because if you want they can and will use that as a part of sex.

You’ll be conscious, and you’ll be able to blink, but besides that your are paralysed baby.

Its kind of an ingrained kink in the species. Shows a deep bond of trust between a mortal mate and their gorgon. It also scratches that ‘predator’ urge in the backs of their heads.

Having you so pretty and still, letting them do whatever they want to you, letting them move and control you like a good little doll. It gets them so fucking horny.

They’ll love a bit of kinky hide and seek as well. Tracking you by the scent of your arousal in the dark, tongue licking at the air, tasting your arousal as they track you, hissing every fantasy of what they’ll do to you when they find you…

And when they do, they’ll fuck you on the spot, taking you hard and fast until you’re a gibbering mess, only then they’ll drag your limp and shivering body back to their nest.

Yeah you won’t be leaving for a while, but what bliss guys, what fucking bliss.

In bed they’re all over you, long scaly tail trapping your legs as hey take you, licking the sweat from your skin and moaning about your beauty. About your pretty pussy/cock/ass and how good you feel.

You run so much warmer than them, everything feels so hot and wet and they adore you, relishing in your warmth. They wanna stay permanently inside you/you inside them so they can keep experiencing your warmth.

They also will bite you a little bit, just a little. No they’re not venomous baby, please just let them bury their fangs into you, they promise it’ll feel so good.

Also, if you do want kids, they will make that happen. Both male and females can lay and carry eggs. The moment you say you want a baby with them they are ready to load you up with eggs, filling you so prettily and making sure you’re fully and happy.

[skyfallslayer]

Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Prologue

-A ST Rewrite Feat. Steve Harrington x Henderson!OFC-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🎲Summary: On the night of November 6th, 1983, Stephanie Henderson decided to walk her little brother’s friend, Will, back home. However… they never arrive. Now, Dustin, Mike and Lucas, and soon the exception of the girl’s ex-best friend, Steve, must band together to find out what happened. Meanwhile, Steph and Will must fight for their survival in this nightmarish version of Hawkins, Indiana.

🎲Chapter Summary: When they interlocked their pinkies none of them ever expected the weirdness that follows the years after. None of them ever expected to start growing apart. None of them ever expected the red string to stay attached. And none of them ever expected that they would be out saving the world with a baseball bat and wings. Yeah... you can’t make this stuff up.

🎲Pairings: Will x Platonic!OFC; Dustin x Sister!OC; Slow burn! Steve x Henderson!OFC (Ex-bestfriends to Lovers); Slow burn! Byler

🎲Rating: Teen-Mature

🎲Word Count: 921 (Small Introduction)

🎲Date: 3/6/24

🎲Warnings: Angst; Swearing; Implied Broken Friendship

🎲A/N: Extremely small chapter, hence why it's just the prologue. I just wanted to show my readers what the big picture is of this story, which is the Steve x OC relationship. However, just like above, this will contained the loving sibling relationship of Dustin, and even Will, between OC. This story also contains Jopper (a personal fav), Jancy, Mileven and the slow burn of Byler (I got to give this boy some love and if you think Will has been a background character for the last few seasons like I have then don't you worry! I'm giving Will a time for him to shine throughout this fic). Anyway, don't want this paragraph to be longer than the actual chapter. Lol. Enjoy!

Pinky Promise.

It’s a bond between two people, a vow that’s taken so it shall not be broken. Childish, you know, but to a small kid it means everything. When they locked their pinkies together, muttering their promises to one another, they both had barely turned five, barely ready to take on the world head first. 

But a promise was a promise— Yet a pinky promise was so much more. It holds so much more weight than crossing your heart or giving a handshake. 

At least it was to these two very best friends…

.

.

.

“Wow.” The blue eyed girl said, genuinely surprised (She can’t even believe their conversation is so calming in a situation like this). “That explains so much. And… you never mentioned that to me before?”

“Well, can you blame me?” He asked, with a small smile and laugh. “I think it kinda does. I think, like, right out of the gate, like, I’m super confident. But I’m also, like, an idiot. Which is just…” He shrugs. “I mean, it’s a brutal combination. But, I mean, the good news is, I get a big enough thump on my head, I can change, you know? I can learn. I can crawl forward.”

She noticed his pace was slowing, and his brown eyes of his were becoming distant. “Steve?”

“Listen–” He stops them both, face looking like a lost puppy now. “I guess what I’m trying to say in a really stupid, roundabout way is, um… is thank you.”

She tilts her head, confused. “Thank you?” She watches him nod, adding fuel to her emotion. “For...?”

His face softens. “For giving my head the biggest thump of its life two years ago.” He chuckles. “Nancy, you know, she gave me the push, but you, Stephanie, gave me the thump I needed. It’s changed my life. And now I’m crawling forward in a way I never thought I could achieve. Slowly.”

And now he’s frowning, looking down at himself, engulfing himself in the glum. “I just wonder sometimes... you know, if... if I had just opened my eyes before I met Nancy, would things have been different? Like… part of me thinks we would’ve made it without our relationship falling apart.”

“Steve–” She croaks, teary eyed and shocked.

“And… you know what the craziest… most messed up part of the story is?”

“What?”

His lips curled up just a bit. “Remember the dream I told you about? About the Winnebago? Seeing the country with my six lil’ nuggets? It’s all true. Every last word. But… the mess up part?” He swallows, also getting emotional. “The mess up part is when I first thought of that dream… is that… you’re there. You’ve always been there.”

“Steve–”

“And that…” He smiles. “That’s my pinky promise to you, Miss Stephanie Henderson.”

.

.

.

The creature shrieked above, its claws waving around frantically –trying to get a nick out of him– as he held it back with some piping. He watched the pupils go all ‘cat-like’, fangs coming out that he swears were growing with each scream. 

He was struggling, he knows this, and he knows he has to buy the kid some time to get a radio signal out to his girlfriend, but he was slipping, fuck it. However, he knows deep in his heart he can’t back down from this.

His jaw clenched and his eyes flash with determination. “I don’t care what you’ve become! I ain’t leaving you, Henderson!” He shouted, hoping his words would get through to her. “That’s a pinky promise.”

.

.

.

“I’m helping you and Dustin out.” He insisted, knowing damn well that she didn’t even want him near her brother, let alone near herself.

She sends him a look, skeptical, on edge. “Why?”

“Look, I know you don’t want to talk–”

“Damn, right.”

“Steph.” He says, stepping in front of her way to get her attention. “We’ll just put this on the backburner. Right now, and I mean it, I just want to help you and Dustin, keep you guys safe. Pinky Promise.”

.

.

.

“Steve–”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He says, while playing with his hands, nervously, worriedly. “Not until I know you’re okay.”

She frowns apologetically. “You know that might be a while.” 

“I know.”

“I have Dustin and my mom, you don’t have to stay here.”

“I know.” He breaks eye contact. “But what if I want to?”

That made her chuckle. “Well… if you want to.” She says, making them both smile. “Fine sleeping in a chair?”

He nods. “If that’s what I’ll have to do.” He replies, making her hum.

She raises an eyebrow. “Is that a pinky promise?”

“Yeah.” His expression grows. “Pinky promise.”

.

.

.

But what if you break it? The promise? What if you don’t follow through? That is the unfortunate part of this story. The promise was to stay together forever, to make their friendship last a lifetime. For them, they were two peas in a pod, polar opposites that still attached themselves to one another… until they couldn’t.

When the boy decided to become a King, the girl became a peasant. The boy was showered with love and affection, and the girl was on a quest of loneliness that became bitter.

This was a story about Steve Harrington and Stephanie Henderson.

A story, where no matter what happens, the red string still stays attached to their pinkies despite their attempts to take it off.

This was story where the two of them decided to save the world–

Their families–

Their friends–

.

.

.

And their friendship.

(TBC)

A/N: I was so surprised when everyone was asking to be added in just a few short days. Makes me really happy :D

.

-Taglist is Open-

@ladygrey03 @poppet05 @tooearlyforthis @lovesfics @lordzzz

[vitospaghetta]

While I do agree with Matt Mercer’s sentiment that this specific moment is pretty big for Leon, with this admission that he needs a break, I don’t think that necessarily means that Leon’s this 100% recovered individual talking about taking a healthy, normal vacation. I think that this was his very roundabout way of saying 'This is bullshit. I'm definitely going to get shitfaced when this is done.'

He could be talking about just needing a break from everything and taking a genuine vacation, but drinking is very much a knee-jerk coping mechanism for Leon, so I wouldn't put it past him to resort to it once this mission's through given the high intensity and stress of it. It's great to see how much better he's doing in Death Island given that he's made some semblance of peace with the way his life has turned out, but old habits die hard, and it’s only human to backpedal every now and then.

I like to think of Death Island as a movie that displays him taking steps in the right direction. He's not where he needs to be, not yet — at this point, he's still a character actively in transformation — but we're seeing the result of him beginning to walk down a better path than the one he was headed down in Vendetta. 

I hesitate to say happiness, but Leon’s contentment in Death Island is extremely evident. There’s such a stark contrast between his demeanor in Damnation and Vendetta and his demeanor in Death Island. He’s still dealing with the same internal struggles, which is most apparent during the callout scene in two places. 

After Dylan calls him out specifically and he only sarcastically answers with “yeah, well, it’s a livin’.” 

And, I think more prominently, when Dylan says that so long as there are people like him/Chris/Claire/Jill who fight for those in power and uphold the status quo that “the innocent will continue to suffer as long as you do.” 

You can literally see the fear in his eyes when he hears this, because every single thing Dylan is saying to them, what he’s saying about him, are things he already fully believes. The exact reasons that led him to hit the bottle so hard are being reiterated to him by someone who isn’t even involved in his life, and that hurts. 

However, instead of having another existential crisis and ruminating on what Dylan said, he chooses to hold onto hope. He believes in Jill, which means he believes in what they’re doing — that they can make a difference by doing the best they can given their circumstances. As long as he hangs onto that, I'd like to think we can have hope for him. He just needs more time.

[broodwolf221]

triple checks it's the right blog this time...

so I'm having a p shitty week and I'm gonna cope by talking abt my meta for solas, mostly in terms of his personality and behavior. I have a LOT of meta abt his past and nature and future but that's... another post, lmao

some of his key and/or most interesting characteristics:

kind

selfish

reserved

arrogant

empathetic

detached

now, let's dig into these

kind: he clearly and consistently wants people to be happy or to alleviate their suffering. he's glad the inquisition helps refugees, he's glad (dialogue, not approval iirc) when you take the time to find the apostate supply caches in the hinterlands, he makes a point of connecting with every single companion, even ones who regularly degrade him. and in trespasser, he goes to extreme lengths to keep southern thedas from falling to the qun, because he wants the people - those he knows and those he doesn't - to be happy and at relative peace.

this is one of the most remarkable things he does imo, bc if he'd just let the situation develop, he'd have an absolutely clear path to achieving his goals. yes, he'd need to get the anchor another way, but that's hardly impossible. what matters is that by stopping the war, he gives the inquisition/inquisitor clearance to pursue him without distraction, while also arguably giving the qunari the ability to focus on strengthening the veil, bc i cant imagine the viddasala and her people were the only ones of all qunari to have/know of that goal

selfish: if romancing lavellan, he understands one aspect of his selfishness, because it's a relationship he should have shut down HARD. but his feelings are real... and he selfishly gives in to them, even knowing he'll break their heart. he does try to pull away, he does eventually break up with lavellan, but by then the damage is done. even the offer to remove their vallaslin is selfish in its way - he's trying to give them a piece of the truth, but instead delivers a cruelty and leaves them whether they accept or deny his offer.

but he's selfish in another important way, too: he's convinced of his own perspective. he thinks bc he literally knows more (which, yeah, tbf he does), that his pov holds more weight. he's willing to change the world bc of his guilt about it ofc, but also bc he's - selfishly, self-centered - convinced that he's RIGHT to do so. he's not traditionally selfish - in many ways he's selfless, overwhelmingly willing to sacrifice all his own chances at happiness and peace in order to restore the world - but his selfishness (which ties in with his arrogance) is shown in his self-conviction.

he makes excuses, but honestly? he could have told the inquisitor who and what he was. he could have done that! he could ask for help reconnecting the fade with the waking world. dreadwolf could be about the inquisition gathering together myriad experts and looking for ways to do it that aren't destructive. but he's so assured that his path is the right one, the only one.

and it's... a complicated selfishness, too, because part of it is that he feels like he deserves to be punished. he thinks he needs to walk this path alone not bc the inquisitor is incapable, but because 1) He Knows What's Right, and 2) He Deserves To Suffer (to alleviate his guilt about his "sins" - which is selfish in a complicated and roundabout way)

reserved: the superficial aspect of this is obvious: he's lying about his identity. but he's also reserved as part of his core character - according to him, he used to be reckless, quick to fight. I think his reserve is something he grew into, a willingness to play the long game, an understanding that information given can never be taken away. it leads to other things - a hesitance to trust, for example - but it's just a part of him now. I think even if he found someone to be 100% open with, he'd STILL be reserved by nature

arrogant: my man is an arrogant ass, no denying it. ofc he knows so much more about history than those around him, but he's also so willing to fight about it, to condescend, to trivialize. when he realizes he has a genuinely receptive audience his tone changes, so I think a lot of this stems from defensiveness and a deep familiarity with needing to justify his every expressed opinion, but... he's still an ass. his conversation with a dalish inquisitor at haven? yikes.

he's also regularly convinced that his interpretations are the correct ones. like wrt my recent post about the mages after Faded For Her, I have to assume that he thinks the inquisitor sparing them demonstrates disdain for the inherent value of spirits and their sentience, even if the real reason is a lot more complicated. he jumps to conclusions and states them like facts and it takes a lot for him to begin to deconstruct them

empathetic: this ties in with his kindness ofc, but its worth a unique mention. he is incredibly empathetic. he cares about what happens to people, to spirits, even to your enemies in a way - he talks with bull about how he doesn't like to relish his victories in combat because the people he kills could have been something else, someone else. he cares about wolves (I WONDER WHY... but also like, him being fen'harel doesn't mean he HAS to care about wolves, but he does, bc he cares about animals, too), he cares about the farmers being attacked by wolves, he cares about the refugees, he's understanding towards speaker anais and the cult that grew up around the rifts... he not only cares, he understands where people are coming from, regardless of who they are or how they behave

detached: this one lessens somewhat over the course of the game, but he's deeply, fundamentally detached to the world he woke up in and the people who inhabit it. its a little ironic when u look at his kindness and empathy, but it doesn't negate his detachment. i tend to think of him as seeing everything through a fog, feeling like he's not really there at least as much as he feels like everyone else is not really there.

not joking or exaggerating, he must have such terrible trouble with disassociation/derealization. ive seen people bring up excellent points wrt this that i dont feel a need to rehash, but suffice to say: while he still cares, everything he experiences is at a remove. this stems from shock, trauma, guilt, fear, and profound culture shock.

[princess-of-the-corner]

Aware of Abuse AU

Nino in this is a little fascinating to me, cause I can’t see him NOT becoming friends with Adrien. I can see them maybe not being super close, especially at first, but I can’t see them being enemies. But I can also see Nino becoming the first class kid (outside Sabrina, and I’m not sure how she counts) to really GET the rich kid trio, and start trying to make proper friends with them.

Like, Just How I See This In My Head

(sorry to put this under a readmore but it’s a little long)

So, we have the first day shenanigans, who knows what, but we still have a bit of seat drama. Adrien ends up sitting in the front on Chloé’s side, Sabrina and Chloé behind him (protecting him, but shhhhh, that wasn’t on PURPOSE). Which means that there’s an empty seat next to Adrien, and … no one really wants to sit IN FRONT of Chloé. It’s not that they think she’ll DO something, but it Makes most of them uncomfortable. Like, no one’s being explicit about it (except maybe Marinette) but everyone’s reluctant to take that seat. So, Nino decides, “welp, someone’s gotta sit there. New kid doesn’t seem too bad, questionable friends aside” and plops himself down, introduces himself to Adrien.

Like, keep in mind, he’s been in the same class as Chloé for most of his school life, but Nino isn’t someone who’d be much on Chloé radar. He isn’t her friend (Sabrina) or her “obstacle./rival/jealousy-crush (Marinette). He and Chloé probably butted heads a few times, but nothing serious. Plus, she doesn’t mutter (Max) or kick the chair in front of her (Kim). She’s a tolerable seat mate. If it gets bad, well. He has headphones. He can probably just ignore her.

So, like, Nino takes the seat, introduces himself. Adrien starts to light up, because yay! New friend! But Nino probably still asks why he’s friends with Chloé. His light dims a bit. He gets quiet. He’s seen today why he’d ask, but he’s also seen other shit. He’s BEEN through some shit. He’s also been through the WRINGER today, fighting a giant stone monster did a NUMBER on him. He’s TIRED. So Adrien responds in a way he might not normally. "If you knew her, you wouldn’t have to ask.”

Nino’s a bit taken aback - that is a … weirdly solemn, serious response?? vaguely concerning?? - but decides, ok, sure. Why not? That could be a valid point, Nino doesn’t actually know Chloé personally, despite them being in school together most of their lives. She could genuinely be nice to some people. Or she could be a manipulative fuck, again, Nino doesn’t actually know her that well personally. Maybe she’s a decent person to people she considers “worthwhile” or some shit. Maybe she’s brainwashed Adrien like most of the class think she did to Sabrina. Who knows? Not Nino. But he doesn’t have to be a dick about it. If Chloé’s an amazing friend to Adrien, awesome. Maybe he’ll help mellow her out. If she’s actually the Anti-Christ, Nino can hopefully provide an example of a good friend for Adrien to look at and realize he deserves better.

(For the record, Nino does NOT think Chloé is devil spawn, he’s just looking at the two most extreme possibilities in his head)

So, he nods, concedes the point - “Yeah, that’s fair. We don’t really hang.” Adrien lights up a bit more, pleased. They chat a bit, about school, hobbies. (Behind them, Chloé’s in a state of shock, because what??? Someone??? Admitted she might?? Be good?? Not bad?? In a roundabout way, BUT STILL????!?)

So Adrien and Nino are … maybe not FRIENDS right away, but FRIENDLY. They talk. They exchange numbers. Adrien misses a day for a photoshoot, and Nino helps Sabrina take his notes. Nino still mostly hangs out with Marinette, Alya, the rest of the class, but he makes time to hang with Adrien too. At first just them, wandering around Paris, or hanging in his bedroom, but slowly, Nino gets invited to hang with Adrien, Chloé and Sabrina, sometimes Kagami.

And like … It’s awkward. We won’t pretend it’s not. But while Chloé is blunt, sometimes rude, she isn’t going out of her way to be MEAN. Isolated from the environment Nino’s used to seeing her in, it becomes really clear that Chloé just doesn’t have many other ways to interact with the world, and either has difficulty learning, or in a few cases doesn’t see the point. Away from everyone else, she’s also much more friendly to Sabrina - tries to talk her up more, get her to take more agency (maybe … not always in the best way, but she’s TRYING). And like, hanging with her at the mall, and then seeing her in school is a bit of whiplash for behaviour, but like. Now Nino’s SEEN her be a decent person with stunted social skills. He doesn’t think it EXCUSES anything, but like. He no longer buys Marinette’s “Rich Brat, Perfect Life” rant.

I think the big turning point for all of them would be Nino finding out how much their jokes about their parents aren’t exaggerated jokes. They aren’t “this is funny cause it’s ‘out there’” the jokes are “this funny cause it’s true”.

Cause like. At first, Nino honestly believes thats what they are. “The gates of hell would open before my dad threw me a birthday party.” / “I think my mother would fire me, if it wouldn’t look bad for the press.” “Like, fire you from being her daughter, or set you on fire?” “Yes.” / “Do you think my dad would notice if I pierced my ears?” “Oh, absolutely! Can’t have the face of his brand altered without prior agreement!” “True, true. What about you?” “Oh, I could dye my hair a different colour every day for a month and he wouldn’t notice.”

Like, Nino thinks it might just be some weird, rich people thing? It doesn’t help that, like, Adrien and Chloé don’t tend to make that many of those sort of jokes around him. I mean, they might know their parents suck, but they don’t want anyone ELSE to. It’s personal. Other people won’t get it. They don’t want pity. Whatever the reason, they try to keep the jokes on the downlow when hanging out with Nino. So, Nino doesn’t get the full force. A few black humour style jokes like that are … concerning, but Nino doesn’t think they’re, like, full on awful. Maybe a bit “rich parent neglectful” but like. Not bad, right? His friends aren’t in that bad of a situation, right?

I like to think the tipping point is a slip up. Something dramatic, because. I mean. Look at these kids. Drama follows them.

Like, say Nino’s over at Adrien’s. Gabriel is out for the day, which means the two have run of the place. They’re relaxing, playing video games, whatever, when Chloé bursts into the room in tears. Nino’s so shocked he falls off the sofa.

Chloé, however, doesn’t even look at him. No, all her focus is on Adrien, cause GUESS WHAT MUMMY DEAREST DID NOW!? Maybe it was a dinner gone wrong. A gift turned sour. A random argument. But just because Chloé KNOWS her mom is a bitch, doesn’t mean it hurts any less when Audrey demeans her. When she knows which nerves to hit and buttons to press. She’s ranting, sobbing about how, oh, of course she did this, why am I even surprised, I should have expected this, honestly. I knew what she was going to do, why open my big mouth!? It’s ridiculous, utterly-!

Chloé stops. Because she just noticed Nino. Who is having a horrible paradigm shift, realizing oh. Those jokes were NOT exaggerated. His friends’ parents ARE that bad. They DO suck that much.

Chloé’s ready to start falling apart all over again, because god, could she GET any more pathetic, she just spilled her guts in front-! She didn’t even SEE him, why wasnt she more careful-! Adrien is trying to figure out damage control. Nino can see them both panicking, and just says, “We could sell her kneecaps on eBay.”

Chloé & Adrien: “… . what?”

Nino, straight faced: “eBay. I heard kneecaps go for a lot, these days.”

Adrien, after a pause: “Audrey’s though?”

Nino: *shrugs* “I mean, I don’t think we’d get much for them, especially once they’ve been shattered, but I still think we could get SOMETHING.”

More silence.

Nino: “Like … four dollars? I’m pretty sure we could get at LEAST four dollars. Maybe some old, chewed gum. Some dryer lint, if we feel like pushing it.”

Chloé, starting to smile a little: “… Mom has security.”

Nino: “I have a nine-iron, a taser, and six years of parkour. Also, I’m pretty sure Max has access to the dark web, and he owes me a no-questions-asked favour.”

-

Yes!! YES!!!!!

This is the vibes I am imagining!!

[just-a-dinosaur-i-guess]

Hiii for the ask game

“Fiiiiine. I’ll do it. For you. Just for you.” - Shiburan

“Stop it. Can’t you see that staying away from you is torture for me too?” - Hawell

“Aren’t you at least a little ashamed of how blatantly you’re exploiting my feelings for you?” - Setsuyami

“You’re the only one I have opened up to like this.” - Fyostein

“Just when I think you couldn’t make me go even weaker in the knees, you go and say stuff like that. Do you want me to collapse? Maybe melt into a puddle too while I’m at it?” - Mushiango

“fiiiiine. i’ll do it. for you. just for you.” + shiburan

Shibusawa tapped his claws on the desk, watching Ranpo with only a mild curiosity. He'd never fallen for seeing the detective as an idiot; he knew far better, after all. Especially so that there was nothing the jaws of his ability could do to them. In some strange, roundabout way, they were untouchable. In some stranger, twisted way, Shibusawa wanted to try. Ranpo hummed, grabbing a candy from their shelf before less so jumping and moreso tossing themself up onto Shibusawa's desk. "I can't open this by myself." They whined, and Shibusawa rolled his eyes. "You can open that." Ranpo pouted, resting their hand on Shibusawa's, stopping the rhythmic movement which had kept his thoughts tidy and quiet. "Nope!" Shibusawa made a hum, leaning closer. "Really." Ranpo smirked. "Pleaase?" He was hardly convinced, but there was something to their expression that made him extremely uneasy, so he didn't bother arguing any longer. “Fiiiiine. I’ll do it. For you. Just for you.” He scowled, ripping it open and handing it over. Their eyes had opened ever so slightly, as he used his claws, but... He didn't let it linger, in his head.

"stop it. can't you see that staying away from you is torture for me too?" + hawell

"Stop it." Nathaniel scoffs, staring at Orwell with a gaze he fears is hatred. "Can't you see that stayng away from you is torture for me too?" Nathaniel says it so bitterly that Orwell can't wrap his head around it, and he freezes where he is. "Uh...?" Nathaniel grabs him by the wrist, gaze scanning the area before he shoves him against the wall. It jars his brain, really- Nathaniel... hopefully wouldn't kiss him so sweetly if he despised him.

"aren't you at least a little ashamed of how you're exploiting my feelings for you?" + setsuyami

Light shines through the windows as Setsugo throws the curtains open, grinning back at Yamizakura. It's one of the few days Setsugo is home, but Yamizakura still groans as she emerges from the blankets and blinks away her tiredness. "Sugooo...." She scrunches up her face, which Setsugo giggles at and flops next to her, cupping her cheeks like one holds a hamburger. "Yeah?" She replies, the fondness so obvious that it makes Yamizakura go red. "...Aren't you at least a little ashamed of how you're exploiting my feelings for you?" Yamizakura mumbles, leaning into her touch. Setsugo giggles, giving her a kiss on the forehead. "Nope!"

"you're the only one i have opened up to like this." + fyostein

"You're the only one I have opened up to like this," Steinbeck remarks, one evening as he and Fyodor are sitting up on his roof. The snow falls down, but it doesn't bother either of them. It's not a new phrase, to Fyodor. Xe has heard such a thing over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over again. But xe knows how to play a part, and so xe chuckles, lightly, to seem affectionate. "Oh?" "I mean..." Steinbeck laughs, raising up a glass of grape juice he's made himself. "Really. Ya seem like you get it." "Dangerous to say such things to a demon." Fyodor murmurs. Steinbeck just laughs and scoots closer to xem. "Maybe that's part of the thrill." This is what makes Steinbeck stand out, somewhat. Nathaniel was never proud of himself, Fukuchi only dealt with xem as neccesary, and Nikolai got close- But not like that. Fyodor turns and meets his gaze. "You seek a very particular kind, John." Xe says to Steinbeck, who merely gives him an easy smile.

“just when i think you couldn’t make me go even weaker in the knees, you go and say stuff like that. do you want me to collapse? maybe melt into a puddle too while i’m at it?” + mushiango

Mushitaro, Ango's learned, is not a man who enjoys touching other people in any kind of extended manner. He'll occasionally do swooping, birdlike movements to straighten out Ango's hair, or pluck off his glasses to adjust them, or suchlike mannerisms... But Ango doesn't mind, not really. Touch is terribly odd for him too, so, whatever. He supposes... his strength, if any, could be in words. However. “Just when I think you couldn’t make me go even weaker in the knees, you go and say stuff like that. Do you want me to collapse? Maybe melt into a puddle too while I’m at it?” Mushitaro rapidly whines at him, and he feels his face flush. "Don't be dramatic, Mushitaro." He chides, and Mushitaro gasps in faux-hurt. "What other option is there, when you speak like that?" He grasps Ango's hand, pulling him closer. Ango blinks, raising an eyebrow, but holds his hand in return. "I could think of several." He muses, deciding not to bring attention to it.

[tanadrin]

RE: the "die in an orgy of violence" ask

It's always really funny to me how some Americans think their society is the best of the best, while the remaining think their society is uniquely and hopelessly problematic. As if there's no other country in this world that can possibly be worse than the states, that it's hell on earth and so DOOMED.

Guess what! Yall ain't special! There are governments way worse than yours in this world! There are governments actively slaughtering their people and burning their books and making all kinds of terrible deals under the table; and the kind of censorship and oppression that's going on in the states is almost nothing compared to that. (Very funny how negative news report from the rest of the world often gets dismissed as far-right propaganda too)

I'm not saying the problems in the US aren't a problem, or people shouldn't complain about it (you very rightfully should), but acting like these problems are going to destroy the country in 5 years is laughable to me. Human beings had survived and are surviving much worse. This kind of mentality is almost narcissistic in a roundabout way, in my opinion.

Don't worry, the states isn't going away anytime soon -_-

Yeah, there’s two flavors of American exceptionalism: “the US is the best country evar,” and “the US is uniquely awful for countries in the OECD and maybe in the world,” and they’re both blatantly wrong. The US is a weird outlier in a *lot* of ways, both good and bad (as is inevitable for one in its relatively unique economic and size categories), but it’s not a Utopia or a dystopia. It’s also incredibly heterogeneous; in a country that big with that many people you can find a huge diversity of experiences. Some really are great and some really are terrible. I think the difficulty of apprehending the diversity of 330 million different lives into one general picture amplifies this trend into flattened narratives that cluster at extremes.

[toujokaname]

Ephemeral Festival / Prologue

Characters: Kohaku, HiMERU

"Strangely, it appears we're being fawned over."

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[ Read on my site for a better viewing experience using Ois~su ♪ ]

Season: Spring

Location: Café Cinnamon

In the second year since ES's establishment, during late April.

Inside the ES Building. At Cinnamon, a coffee shop that has turned into a hangout spot for Crazy:B.

Kohaku: Ahh, this tea tastes so good.

The leaves are real sweet... Spring's in full swing by now, huh ♪

HiMERU: —Oukawa, it's important that you listen to this seriously.

This is an extremely troublesome issue for us.

Kohaku: You say that, but HiMERU-han, it ain't really clickin' with me.

This, uh, "pii-pii-pii" business—what even is it?

HiMERU: ......... (Overwhelmed because Oukawa saying "pii-pii" is just too cute for him to handle.)

Kohaku: ...If you're not plannin' to take it seriously either, then I reckon I'll just head on home.

Even though the year's just kickin' off, I'm swamped with school and other stuff. And I've also gotta catch up on some study prep I'm behind on.

HiMERU: You're so serious. No, let's call it sincere.

In every situation you find yourself in, you always try to do your utmost.

Shiina lacks motivation, and Amagi is always messing around... That's why HiMERU wanted to consult about "this problem" with you, Oukawa, since you're in charge of the conscience in our Crazy:B.

Kohaku: Conscience? So what're you in charge of, then? Sex appeal?

No, wait—is it comic relief?

HiMERU: HiMERU has no recollection of ever providing comic relief or exuding sex appeal.

To reiterate once more, please listen to this seriously without interrupting through facetious remarks.

—Let's try again. How much do you know about PBB, Oukawa?

Kohaku: Like I said, that, uh, pii-pii...

HiMERU: ...♪

Kohaku: ...pii thing, I ain't got the faintest clue of what it even is? It's the same with ES and all. Just throwin' letters together like that don't tell me squat, y'know?

HiMERU: Hm. That's rather unexpected. HiMERU was under the impression that you were infatuated with the internet.

Kohaku: Yeah, I used to be. But like I said, I'm too busy with my personal life and work to have time to be online.

So what's the deal? This "troublesome issue" you keep mentionin', does it have to do with the internet? Did Rinne-han get canceled again?

HiMERU: That's an everyday occurrence, so it's hardly worth making a fuss out of at this point.

Well then, let's do this instead. Oukawa, please try searching on your phone for "PBB Crazy:B" or something along those lines.

Kohaku: Mm, okay... But since we mostly get dragged through the mud online thanks to Rinne-han, I don't like to do much vanity searchin'.

HiMERU: So that's why you didn't notice it. The existence of that abhorrent PBB.

Kohaku: Seriously, what're you on abou... Uh, huh...?

W-Wha? I tried doin' an image search, but it's tellin' me, "Access restricted for those under eighteen"?

HiMERU: Oukawa, how old are you this year?

Kohaku: What are ya, my uncle? You know I'm sixteen.

So if it's blocked for folks under eighteen, is this "P-B-B" thing somethin' lewd?

HiMERU: That's prevalent, yes. Though it doesn't appear to be mainstream, there's an unusual amount of enthusiasm gathered in that particular niche—

Kohaku: Huhh? What's the actual problem here? Just spit it out already! I don't care for detours!

HiMERU: You say that, yet you took a long detour with Double Face.

No, nevermind. That was a necessary journey for you to take, Oukawa.

Kohaku: Huh? Would ya cut it out with this roundabout way of sayin' stuff...?

HiMERU: Let's be direct, then. PBB is something that is currently trending on the internet—what would you call it? A phenomenon? A fad? Something like that.

By the way, PBB stands for "Pastel Bee Brothers."

Kohaku: What's that? Some new game?

HiMERU: HiMERU hasn't fully grasped it either, but... Pastel Bee Brothers, abbreviated as PBB, seems to be the name of a duo consisting of HiMERU and Oukawa.

Kohaku: Ah? When did I form a comedy duo with ya, HiMERU-han?

HiMERU: How to explain it... There happens to be some sort of culture around it. But within Crazy:B, HiMERU and Oukawa have been singled out, attracting odd attention, so to speak.

Strangely, it appears we're being fawned over.

Kohaku: Fawned over...?

HiMERU: There's an easy to understand "summary" making the rounds on the internet, so HiMERU will read it aloud.

[PBB refers to the ship name between Kohaku Oukawa and HiMERU, members of the new idol group "Crazy:B".]

Kohaku: Ship...?

HiMERU: [This name originates from the doujinshi "Pastel Bee Brothers," distributed by XX-shi, a prominent creator within the community of the ship in question.]

Kohaku: ...?

HiMERU: [The quality of this doujinshi was so divinely excellent that it sparked a trend in which the real-life individuals Kohaku Oukawa and HiMERU are viewed as a couple.]

[Clips of their past interactions have been edited and uploaded to video platforms, where they are experiencing explosive growth in viewership.]

[Enthusiasts say: "PBB is no longer just a trend; it has already become a full-fledged culture."]

HiMERU: —That's all.

Kohaku: Umm... So... What's that mean, exactly...?

[ ☆ ]

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[tleeaves]

The Fictional Crush Line-Up For 2023 and Beyond

Was going to do this sooner (as in a review on the year based on the new or resurfaced interests I picked up, with aforementioned fictional crushes along the way), but I wanted to collect art for them all too and then I also had to try and remember them all. But here we are. If I'm missing any, I'll either have to edit and or reblog to include them.

See if you can spot any common threads (it may get trickier as the list goes on, just be warned). This goes almost in chronological order. But order does not in any way reflect my level of brainrot and obsession with each.

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR THE FRAGILE THREADS OF POWER, BALDUR'S GATE III, AND ARCANE: LEAGUE OF LEGENDS (SPECIFICALLY REGARDING VIKTOR).

Consider yourself warned.

Victor Vale (Vicious by V.E. Schwab)

Victor and his revenge story are kind of responsible for kick-starting my journey of self-rediscovery these past twelve months, in a strange and roundabout way. He made me want to stick up for myself and what I wanted out of life. Sure, he's extremely morally grey in a concerning way, and yeah, we don't normally encourage revenge, but I found him a comfort at a difficult time. But also, I could totally fix him (no one can and it's no one's responsibility, yet the sentiment is still there). I'm not usually one for blonds (I am a liar) but his cold aesthetic is oddly pleasing. There's nothing I understand more than an awe that rots into resentment and envy while maintaining the same thread of fascination with someone. "Victor Vale was not a fucking sidekick" is just a, mwah, chef's kiss line. Honestly, I have less of a crush on this guy, more of an understanding that I appreciate. Also, I haven't even mentioned the chronic pain implications and canon uses of his powers. But that might be for another time.

Viktor (Arcane: League of Legends)

Another Viktor with chronic illness themes and whose (in LoL lore) regard for a partner in science goes sour over time as they pursue different objectives (not seen in the Netflix series yet, of course, it's too early for glorious evolution). This guy always comes back to rot in my brain, and I cannot wait for season 2 later this year to see what comes of his arc. I'm planning a fanfic involving him, Jayce, and maybe/sort of Jinx, based on a dream I had months ago but still have swirling in the soup that is my consciousness. There is something so pretty about this guy. If I was more confident in my sketching abilities, he'd end up being my muse way too often. Viktor's character to me is kind of a tragedy personified, and I love a good tragedy. Oh, and his voice actor?? Amazing. There's some debate over how authentic he sounds to Eastern Europeans, but the accent aside still, he sounds sooo good. I want to sit in on a lecture where he speaks about literally anything for two hours.

Kell Maresh (A Darker Shade of Magic; The Fragile Threads of Power by V.E. Schwab)

Usually, I don't talk about Kell because of how silly I feel like my crush on him is. I identify with Delilah "Lila" Bard throughout ADSOM and even Threads, so I hate further mentioning how much I actually think about Kell because I'd have to fist fight anyone who said I only relate to her because of Kell when that's not the truth. And yet, there's still enough differences between Lila and I for me to be like "if I had to pick a woman in the Schwabverse..." But also, MAYBE I JUST THINK KELL IS GORGEOUS, OKAY? 🫣 Maybe I like that he starts as a somewhat naive prince who's had things both easy and rough in life (wanting to be loved by the only family you know and not feel like you're only there to protect your adoptive brother whom your parents tried to tell you both was not actually your brother and you should stop treating each other as such is VALID, argue with the wall, also he's the bodyguard and eternal worrier (yes, worrying) for Rhy and he's taken lives way too young). Maybe I like that he fell first and fell hard for Lila (okay, but if we're getting into the nitty-gritty, she did flirt with him first multiple times, but she would never admit to actual feelings), that he's the male love interest without reservations for once, leaving it up to Lila and whether she's open to love for once in a story. And yeah, okay, maybe I like that he's actually some kind of a prince charming, the sort you always secretly dream about, you know? Shut up. I like his stupid magic coat too. He's clever, but occasionally actually unbelievably dumb, he's funny and witty yet he knows when to keep his mouth shut (and is usually the one hauling others out of a scrap because of their own smart mouths), he cares too much about his family, AND DID I MENTION HE ALSO HAS CHRONIC ILLNESS THEMES THAT BROKE MY DAMN CHRONICALLY ILL AND IN PAIN HEART? I've said too much already, but there. He's a guy.

Miguel O'Hara (Spider-Man: Across The SpiderVerse)

This is the one my sister teases me most about because she doesn't get it. To be honest with you all, even I don't know how to explain it. But this guy. Miguel. There is something about him that I just abdkjdjsdv, you know? Is it the tragedy? The moral greyness? The fangs? His insane height? Just his fanon self? The fucking muscles?? I don't know. But I will defend how interesting he is as an antagonist until the cows come home.

Elliott (Stardew Valley)

Oh... boy. Sometimes, I realise I have a type. It's pretty guys who are hopeless romantics that write novels and poetry. Maybe it's just this one guy. But wow, it works on me. I'm writing a fanfic about him because I need to. There's only 400-odd words to it so far. It was not long after I met him in the game that I decided I had to wife him up. I planted that pomegranate tree early, because it's his favourite fruit for those who don't know, and he loves receiving them as a gift. I got ducks so I could give him their stray feathers. I learned how and when to find lobsters and catch crabs because he loves those too. If I'm out of gifts, I go get a coffee for him because every writer needs their sustenance. Literally, by Spring of Year 2, we were married, and I wondered if perhaps I might have been a little too single-mindedly pursuing every one of those cut scenes when I should have been taking it a bit slower and making it less of a mission. Don't know what to tell you, I went crazy. I fully believe in the headcanon that he gets up early just to go through his haircare routine. Is he pretentious? Maybe. Does he lay it on a little too thick that he's scared of dying alone? Well, okay, yes. Does it bother me that as a househusband he doesn't help out more on the farm? Occasionally. But there's also no one else I'd rather be with (and I developed a sprinkler system specifically so there was less work for me anyway and so now I don't mind at all when he isn't helping). And I can't believe my sister ever introduced me to Stardew Valley because I am now mentally ill about a videogame character made of pixels. Yes, I make wine just for him too. Hush. I spoil him daily now that we're married. Our first child is a son named Ernest. I was debating between Ernest and Edgar, and honestly, I think I should have gone with the latter, but I chose the former. All the dialogue from Elliott is so frickin' cute.

Astarion Ancunín (Baldur's Gate III)

And do you know what the worst part about this one is? I still haven't actually played Baldur's Gate III. I know, I KNOW. A crime. I'm working on it. But you best believe I've watched every cutscene I can, every scrap of gameplay dialogue, all the choices, the different endings you can get with him (Ascended breaks my heart every time -- I don't care how hot he is, it's not what he would have wanted, he doesn't love you like he used to anymore, and he's not as happy as he could be), and I've listened to all the interviews with Neil Newbon and the writer for Astarion about him. This fruity traumatised vampire haunts me. I want to hold him gently and caress his face and tell him he's beautiful and what he looks like to me since he hasn't seen his reflection in centuries and I want to make sure he knows he's loved. I want him to bite me and drink my blood too, but that's not as important. Does it weird me out how much he reminds me of Prince Charming from the Shrek franchise and Preminger from Barbie: The Princess and the Pauper and then aesthetically Asra from The Arcana: A Mystic Romance? Yes. But Astarion's also his own character and I'm in love with his smile and goofy lines.

Settrigh "Sett" (Heartsteel; League of Legends)

This... might be the lowest point, actually 💀 My sister would agree. Because it's not enough to crush on book characters, show characters, and videogame characters -- while technically this guy is a videogame character and was part of League of Legends waaay before the music video, it was the PARANOIA music video that got me. So, even fictional characters made/involved in music videos are not safe from my heart. Because, as I understand it, OG Sett is a bit different from Heartsteel Sett, and I've found I usually prefer reading about the interpretation of the latter in fanfic more than the former. I mean, I still really, really enjoy fanfics where he's The Big Boss of the pits, and or his other background/lore is included, but I've read some where his old personality is a bit Yikes. The golden retriever energy is my favourite era of his if we can call it that (I still headcanon him as a part fox Vastayan, you can't convince me otherwise so go argue with someone else about it, not me). And honestly, I think I might have read more fics involving Sett in 2023 than I did any of the other characters on this list. Which is saying something since he's not as popular as a few of them. He's a pretty guy and I wish to bite him. Lovingly.

Mizu (Blue Eye Samurai)

Oh woman. Mizu is... is... she's basically my wife. I know she's all our wife, but like just let me dream a little here. As soon as I finished the series, I was opening up Tumblr, Pinterest, and AO3, my holy trinity of fandom. My platonic wife was sending me TikToks of our shared fictional wife. Mizu can wind up non-binary, male, female, I honestly do not mind because I am in love with any version she is/becomes (for now, I interpret her as a woman in disguise, but if that changes, I'll absolutely change how I refer to Mizu). She is a tragedy wrapped up in revenge because of a rotten love and unfortunate parentage and time period. I want her as much as I want to be her. Also? I go insane over her little smiles and smirks. I LOVE when we got to hear her laugh, even if it was mostly the flashbacks (do not mention Mikio near me; if he wasn't already dead, I would kill him). Also, who doesn't hate their British/white half, ahaha, oh my god, I know mixed ethnicity is a hot topic for people who do not want POC whitewashed in media, and I fully understand that, but I do appreciate seeing parts of myself in mixed characters like the conflict between trying to be more like one side than another. I'll also admit it: she does indeed look hot covered in blood and carrying a sword. I'll see myself out the door. I've been wanting to write a fanfic about her but I'm still stewing over ideas. Mizu is also probably my first truly major crush on a fictional woman (other than my childhood crush on Helga Sinclair from Atlantis: The Lost Empire). Vi from Arcane comes pretty close, but I see too much of myself in her that it gets weird.

We'll do some honourable mentions for characters from The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim since I've gotten into that again.

Brynjolf, Hadvar, and Nazir, I wish I could mod my gameplay so I could marry you. The developers hated their men-loving gamers (I know the women-lovers complain about Serana, but she will never be as heartbreaking as Brynjolf, I don't care if she recognises proposals only to decline them). I mean, Brynjolf is the Tamriel equivalent of Scottish, he calls you "lass/lad", has got a smoothass voice, supports you through so much of the Thieves Guild questline, has a wicked sense of humour, and then when you finish the questline, it's all "sorry, lass. Got important things to do. We'll speak another time" 😭 You can't even recruit him as a follower. He says nothing when you wear an amulet of Mara. I play on a fucking PS4, I can't do mods to marry him or get more dialogue.

(By the way, on my most recent playthrough, Lydia died when I fought the troll on the seven thousand steps, and I am still mad about it. It used to be difficult for Lydia to die, that was why I brought her everywhere, and now I have to become Batman "I work alone". ESPECIALLY after Benor then died on the way up to Paarthurnax. I still can't believe that happened, I should have told him to stay behind and wait for my return.)

Also, every time I play, Derkeethus is so bugged, I can't even rescue him let alone marry the guy, which was disappointing because he seemed nice.

Argis the Bulwark, Vilkas, Farkas, Rayya, Aela the Huntress, and Marcurio, you are all marriageable and live in my heart always. Marcurio was the first I ever married, I think. Three guesses why I chose him (it's the sarcasm, wisecracks, and general sense of humour) (maybe the long hair too). Has anyone noticed how there doesn't seem to be marriageable options among the Khajiit characters?? Why do you think that is? I just checked the Skyrim marriage wiki and this is what it has to say in the trivia: 'There are no Khajiit spouses, however; since the majority of Khajiit in Skyrim are traders or travelers from Elsweyr, they probably have families back home. Additionally, Khajiit characters talk about home a lot, stating how much they miss it and how cold Skyrim is; thus, they probably do not want to marry and settle down in Skyrim.'

Heart-breaking. Oh well.

And that's the end of the line-up. If you read through this, Divines bless your goddamn soul. Psycho-analyse me based on them, I dare you. Or just judge me. I'd like to see either. And if you can find something in common about them all (you don't need to consider the honourable Skyrim mentions), please let me know, because I am personally at a loss.

[mswyrr]

I love this scene from Homicide: Life on the Street (from 2x04, "A Many Splendored Thing") and the surge in puritanical thought and purity policing language online keeps making me think about it.

BAYLISS: Tell me that you don't find all of this porno stuff, all this phone sex and S&M stuff, disgusting. PEMBLETON: Well, Bayliss, that's just the way of the world. It's been this way forever. When they dug through the ruins of Pompeii, they found, written on the walls: 'An vere fama susrrat grandia te medii tenta vorare viri.' It's a long, roundabout way of saying 'fellatio.' St. Ignatius High, New York City. Yeah, I had to do something to make Latin class interesting. BAYLISS: Granted, listen, perversion has existed since the beginning of time. Alright, we see it everywhere, but that doesn't mean that I am willing to accept that. PEMBLETON: Well, in any given ten square feet of this great country, there are people who think it's perverted for a person of your color and my color to sleep together. BAYLISS: No, Frank. I'm not talking about prejudice. What I'm talking about is kinky sexual acts. Dehumanizing acts between two human beings, alright. Sex is love. Period. This I believe. PEMBLETON: Oh, yeah right. So if a beautiful woman passes you on the street, you smile at her. Ooh, she smiles back. You're not thinking about marriage, you're thinking of her in a French maid's outfit. Bent over a straight back chair – BAYLISS: No, no, I don't. I don't think that way, Frank. PEMBLETON: Oh, well you're either a liar or you're a moron. If you're a liar, then fine. At least you've got a chance. But if you're a moron, then you're just a bore, y'know. I'm gonna have to take you out back and shoot you just to put you out of your misery. BAYLISS: Wait a minute. I don't think dirty so I can't understand the criminal mind. Is that it, huh? I mean….I…I…I don't want to kill someone, so I can't get into the killer's head, is that it Frank? I don't think about molesting some child so I don't how to investigate Adena Watson's murder, is that what you're saying? PEMBLETON: Then you really are a moron, aren't you!? BAYLISS: No, I'm not a moron, Frank! PEMBLETON: OK, let me tell you something. We're all guilty of something. Cruelty, or greed, or going 65 in a 55-mile-per-hour zone. But you know what? You want to think about yourself as the fair-haired choirboy, you go ahead. BAYLISS: Alright. OK, so, what're you saying, huh? PEMBLETON: I'm saying you got a darkness. You, Tim Bayliss, you got a darkness inside of you. You gotta know the uglier, darker sides of yourself. You gotta recognize them so they're not constantly sneaking up on you. You gotta love them 'cause they're part of you. Because along with your virtues, they make you who you are. Virtue isn't virtue until it slams up against vice. So consequently, your virtue's not real virtue, until it's been tested. Tempted.

Being terrified of one's own darkness/sins and eagerly seeking to live in denial about their existence is actually one of the ways that extremes of politics and religion capture people. (That and the disgust based morality Bayliss displays in this scene). That kind of obsessive purity is something I was raised with in fundamentalist Christianity. It doesn't lead to goodness; it leads to hypocrisy, lies, hiding and concealing and cultures of fear. It motivates people to actively prevent rather than support real goodness and sincerity and truth. It leads to people displacing and projecting their own darkness on others instead of having a healthy relationship with it.