#it makes me feel things nonetheless that there exist so many similarities

[extraordinarilyextreme]

MLCB Concert: XSY's Farewell

In truth, I really don’t like this part, because it also represents that we are bidding our characters farewell for good.

In the morning, when I was getting my makeup done - in an instant, I returned to that summer. I felt that, to be together with good friends, and then having experienced as sweltering a summer as that…

Such an ardently hot-blooded jianghu was presented to everyone; to stand here today-- Because… Because, during the time of Mysterious Lotus Casebook’s initial broadcast, everyone and all the lianluorens must also be thanked. I know there must have been a lot of difficulties when it was first broadcasted, right? To have reached this step today, I think is already very good. I think it is a result of every person’s hard work.

Just now, when we were off-stage, Yan-laoshi said something I really like; in an instant, I lost my composure. I don’t think fate is something that will come with enough waiting, or something that can be insisted on having. It’s when there comes a day where we stand together and work hard to strive toward a common goal. The sentiments of that moment, I feel, last forever.

I hope, however many years later, everyone is still together - that lianluorens can still be together. Thank you, everyone. This summer, thank you to every person. Thank you to all my good companions; thank you, every single person.

Di Feisheng! Until we meet again!

【莲花楼演唱会】 Mysterious Lotus Casebook Concert - 20230916

江湖路远   山高水长  祝 「繁华」 似锦！ The roads of the jianghu stretch far; the mountains are lofty, and the rivers are long. I wish your future to be as splendid as an embroidered tapestry! 「追光」 而行  不负初心  愿 永生难忘！ Chase the light as you journey; live up to the original intentions of your heart. I hope this will be unforgettable for your lifetime!

Any mistakes are my own.

[patchwork-crow-writes]

No, actually, you get the Kralsei "incest" rant now, I've decided.

The ship being considered incest or incest-adjacent is largely a result of several assumptions that are being made about Ralsei, and to a lesser extent about Kris as well. For this to work, you have to assume the following:

Ralsei is modeled primarily on Asriel

All Boss Monsters of a certain age look identical to one another and are related to one another

Kris had absolutely no hand in Ralsei's creation

Kris is heavily uncomfortable with Ralsei's existence

The entire implied romantic undertones of Ralsei's feelings towards Kris were designed to be incestuous from the start

In order, I shall deconstruct and debunk these. Very long post below the read more, you have been warned.

While it is true that Ralsei does share some superficial similarities with Asriel, he's actually much, MUCH more similar to Kris in many ways. All he shares with Asriel is an anagrammed name and a passing likeness. They're not similar in terms of personality, and that goes regardless of which Asriel we're even talking about. Many people associate Ralsei with Undertale's incarnation of Asriel, who doesn't even exist in the same universe. Any similarities between the two are inferred entirely by the player, aided and abetted by the game making these subtle hints that they're "connected" in some way. Yeah, about as connected as Undertale is to Deltarune. To take this a step further, consider Kris and Frisk. No-one is conflating these two, not in a million years. And yet look, they share an anagrammed name and a passing likeness, so they're basically the same person, aren't they? I mean, we both control them through the SOUL, and they're both protagonists of games made by Toby Fox, so if anything they're more similar to each other than Ralsei is to Asriel. But of course, that's utterly absurd, and we all know it. *

I refer you once again to the humans. And before you tell me "they all obviously look different to each other" - and of course I'm not saying they're not different when they obviously are - consider how a monster might look at these humans if you placed them side-by-side. Pale-ish skin, brown hair, no obvious gender markers, similar height profiles. Any monster who's not intimately familiar with any of the humans in question might perhaps confuse them. And so it is with us and Boss Monsters. Just because Ralsei and Asriel share certain characteristics common to ALL boss monsters does not make them the same, or even similar, to each other. You only have to look at the sprites for the two side-by-side to see that there are plenty of differences between them. And as for Deltarune's Asriel? We haven't even seen this guy, we have NO idea what he looks like. We're just making assumptions again based on incomplete information. And if we assume that all boss monsters are related in some way due to how similar they might appear, then what does that make Toriel and Asgore, two boss monsters who have canonically produced offspring in both continuities? I don't need to say it, do I? *

It should be clarified here that I don't just mean Kris consciously made Ralsei at any point, either as an imaginary friend or monster-sona or what-have-you, but that Ralsei's creation as a darkner is somehow linked to how Kris saw themself/wished to be seen in their childhood. The most obvious piece of evidence supporting this is the horned headband that Toriel mentions at the end of Chapter 1. It's heavily implied that Kris would wear it so that they could be the same as their adoptive family, before they supposedly lost it somewhere down the line. It's not too much of a leap in logic to infer from this that Ralsei was created from that headband, at least in part. That said, there are certain aspects of Ralsei that don't exactly fit this neat mold, and I am willing to concede this point if it turns out that the headband thing is a massive misdirect. Nonetheless, I would say that the evidence we currently have to hand points more resolutely towards Ralsei being an aspect of Kris than of him being an aspect of Asriel. *

So I'm just going to say it: WE DON'T KNOW. Because Kris is our protagonist and POV character, it's incredibly easy to forget that we know next-to-nothing about the inner workings of their mind. They have no dialogue except what we tell them to say, and anything we CAN say about them is inferred from how other characters respond to their tone of voice. Of course, we can infer that Kris doesn't fully consider Ralsei a good friend based on his tea healing 60HP, but that on its own doesn't really tell us anything of much substance because you can't exactly cross-reference those numbers against a handy chart or anything - it's all context-dependent. We do at least know that they are comfortable enough around Ralsei to play the odd prank on him, which we know is something they used to do a lot of with Noelle and Asriel, two people they were close to growing up. They will, of their own volition, interpret our instruction to "take a bite" of Ralsei's dummy's clothes to make it look like they're kissing it on the cheek. I don't think that's something you would do with somebody who freaked you out on an existential level, or somebody who reminded you of your brother. Again, I am willing to concede this point should it turn out my interpretation of these clues is incorrect. *

Ask yourself this: What would Kralsei being incest - or incest-adjacent, or pseudo-incest, or whatever - contribute to the characters of Kris and Ralsei, to our relationship to them as players, or to the narrative or wider themes of Deltarune as a whole? I'll tell you - nothing whatsoever. The most such an interpretation can EVER say is that we as players are so easily manipulated by window-dressing and flattery that we will, knowingly or otherwise, romantically pair two characters together who are related in some way, shape or form. And let's say that this IS the intent behind their dynamic - all it amounts to, all it can ever amount to, is a great bit gotcha from Toby Fox himself. Haha, I tricked you into shipping two characters who are secretly related, isn't that fucked up of you? Somehow, I don't think that was his intention with this, it seems such a petty and small-minded thing for somebody who we know is capable of creating moving, thought-provoking, horrifying and beautiful stories. He's better than that. It turns the entire thing into a glorified skill-check: are YOU smart enough to identify that you're being encouraged to engage in incest-shipping, or are you a dumbass who only sees what's presented to you and doesn't ask questions about it? Contrary to popular belief, we're not all 5-D chess grandmasters, and shockingly not everybody is going to interpret the clues in this way. All it does is make people who DO earnestly ship Kralsei feel bad for something the game WAS ENCOURAGING THEM TO DO. Which would be fine if we were playing, say, Spec Ops: The Line, which is very much built around that conceit. And hey, if you wanna feel shitty about shipping two characters together in an extremely unhealthy and harmful manner, Snowgrave is right there. The difference here is that the weird route is A) completely optional, B) difficult if not impossible to accidentally trigger, C) completely derails the game's story and emotional beats, and D) doesn't rely on the shock value of surprise incest to carry it. Snowgrave actually has something INTERESTING to say about the nature of former friends, forced romance, a player's control over a protagonist and how people can be manipulated to do horrendous things by proxy. All the incest interpretation of Kralsei has to offer is that... it's incest, and you're a bit yucky for partaking in it. I'll wrap up this point by saying: incest is a very emotive topic and produces visceral emotional reactions in a lot of people. It's very clever that people have looked critically at Kralsei and observed the possibility, the interpretation, that this could be what's happening, but if the aim in doing so was to promote debate and analysis on the topic, I'm afraid it's only succeeded in doing the exact opposite, causing people to disengage from it entirely. And I strongly believe that's going to severely harm the state of discourse going into Deltarune's future chapters, because how are you going to talk about the game and what it's trying to say if you keep dodging a major part of it for fear of being thought of as pro-incest? It sucks if you're invested in the ship because no-one wants to discuss it, it sucks if you're NOT invested in the ship because it's not likely going to just evaporate come chapter 3, it sucks for everybody.

Now, having said all of that, I am not here to convince you that Kralsei is the truth and the life and what-have-you - you can read any of my other essays on the topic if you want to be preached to in that manner. You're valid and based for not liking Kralsei for any reason, and I wholeheartedly respect your opinion. All I'm trying to say here is that, calling it incest because "Ralsei is/looks like Asriel" or "Kris hates Ralsei" or whatever doesn't do anything for anyone. There are plenty of valid reasons not to like the ship, I just don't think that this is one of them.

Rant over, have a lovely day :D

[meglosthegreat]

So, Veilguard was bad and Dragon Age is probably done forever. What now?

If you, like me, spent the past ten years in anticipation of the next instalment of your favourite series of all time, and were then grossly and horrifically let down by what we ended up getting, you're probably feeling pretty bummed out right now. You might be wondering if anything out there will ever make you feel how Dragon Age did, and may be at a loss for what media to develop unhealthy levels of attachment to next.

With that in mind, I have compiled a list of my own personal, 100% Dragon Age fan-certified recs across media of all types. In the interest of presenting these in a way that feels more relevant in comparison to Dragon Age itself, I will not be grouping them in any kind of logical category but will instead be going purely off Vibes. I will also not be listing in detail certain titles that I think are too well-known to be useful in this list - namely Bioware's other games, among others. I will give brief mention of these, but I want to focus on less widely-known properties, or things that you may have heard of but have not seen recommendation for specifically from a fellow DA fan.

I may be updating this list further if I find something good to add, or if I think of something I hadn't before. And if you have further recs not present here, please feel free to reblog with your own additions!

Vibe #1: Good ol' High Fantasy

This category pertains to works that fall under the same broad genre definitions as Dragon Age, with similar overarching tones and themes. Not listed: Baldur's Gate 3, The Elder Scrolls, Avatar: TLA.

Divinity: Original Sin 2 (Video Game) - Easily my top pick for other RPGs that elicit the big world stakes and sweeping plot of DAI. There's even an EXTREMELY Solas-coded character who I won't spoil but let's just say as a Solas enjoyer myself they did absolutely nothing wrong and I would die for them. D:OS 1 is very good too, but they are both standalone stories and 2 has more of the DA feel than 1, so it takes the place on this list.

Unsounded (Webcomic) - This one hits so many DA boxes while at the same time being something extremely unique in itself. It's got deep, multifaceted characters. It's got a fascinating world and huge amounts of fantasy politics. It's got humour interposed with horror and tragedy with neither undercutting the other. It's got not one, but TWO extremely pathetic war criminal dads, who somehow are constantly at odds with each other and yet are forced together into Situations nonetheless. And it's free! Go read it right now, there's absolutely nothing stopping you.

Bone (Comic Series) - This is almost a reverse-recommendation in a sense, because I read it years before Dragon Age ever existed and is probably one of the reasons why I was drawn to DA in the first place. It's epic, sprawling fantasy but constantly grounded in the small, personal stakes of it all. Imagine an isekai but the isekai'd are from a pseudo-modern maximalist cartoon land and have been thrust into a gritty medieval fantasy. Don't let the jokes and the goofy main characters throw you though because this series gets dark.

Vibe #2: Found Family

If your favourite part of Dragon Age is the character dynamics, and you don't particularly care about genre trappings, this is the section for you. Not listed: Mass Effect, KOTOR

Farscape (TV Series) - Oh my god I am begging you, imploring you, to PLEASE watch Farscape. David Gaider has said before that he loves the show, and it's the reason Claudia Black became the voice of Morrigan. If that isn't enough of an endorsement for you, it also has THE MOST fucked up little blorbos the world has ever seen. Literally nothing, and I mean nothing, comes close to the wet cat/kicked puppy energy that these characters exhibit, and what's more 50% of them are dressed in early 2000s tight leather getups 24/7 while the other 50% are composed of the most incredible puppetwork and prosthetics you've ever laid eyes on.

Unavowed (Video Game) - This is a point-and-click adventure game about a team of supernatural investigators, and for such a relatively small indie game compared to the likes of DA, it does a hell of a job creating compelling and complex characters who you get to know and love. The opening act of the game has a bit where a monster rips someone's face off, and yet there is something so cozy about it I just can't explain.

Aurora (Webcomic) - This one has all the good found family vibes, with a cast of characters that each has their own Deal, who bicker and squabble incessantly but manage to pull together when it really matters. And when they don't, you can be sure they will Get Into It with themselves, and with each other. It's got tons of heart and soul, gorgeous colour work, and is also totally free!

Vibe #3: Worldbuilding & Political Machinations

If you love digging into theories and lore, and appreciate stories with complex fantasy politics, look no further than here. Not listed: The Witcher, Game of Thrones, Fallout: New Vegas

Pillars of Eternity (Video Game) - This is a broad rec for both Pillars games (and hopefully, if it ends up being good, the upcoming Avowed). While the gameplay is on the whole more difficult to get into and there isn't as much time dedicated to party members as in DA, PoE1 has some of the tightest, most well-thought out lore I've encountered. If the factions of DATV were a huge disappointment to you, PoE2's main focus is a handful of incredibly complex ones that pose you genuinely difficult questions about ethics and morality. Also like half the characters are voiced by Matt Mercer, it's great.

The Wheel of Time (Book Series) - The reason I didn't put this under Vibe #1, despite it being solid high fantasy, is that I didn't connect so much with the story and plot developments as much as I did the worldbuilding and politics of the series. Fair warning, this rec does come with several giant asterisks, as it is notorious for having infuriating characters and baffling gender dynamics, but if you are able to look past all the weirdness, you'll find what was clearly a lot of the inspiration for DA's world underneath. The recent TV show is... a mixed bag, but probably the only alternative to reading fourteen tome-sized books if you don't have the stomach for that.

Vampire the Masquerade: Bloodlines (Video Game) - You've probably seen this one recommended before, but if you're having a hard time getting past the early 2000s graphics and weird engine jank, let me assure you that it is well worth the hassle. There are lots of games out there that try to make you feel like a pawn in someone's greater plan, but none of them come close to matching what VTMB managed. If you like your politics and scheming more personal and visceral than grand and world-spanning, with excellent roleplaying options to back them up, this is the game for you.

Vibe #4: Fucked Up People in a Fucked Up World

This one is easily the most "hear me out, bro" category, but if Dragon Age 2 specifically is your jam, and you crave more Kirkwall energy and Greek tragedy in your life, I have a feeling you will really like these. Not listed: Arcane, Disco Elysium

Dishonored (Video Game) - This one has always been a tough sell, because despite it being, imo, one of the best designed games of all time, the way it was marketed makes it seem like a real Gamer's game, with super epic stealth powers! And badass kill animations! But behind all that, you'll find some of the most Characters of all time, including a soggy wet twink god who gives you magic powers but will be such a little bitch about it. The whole thing is steeped in potent atmosphere and incredible worldbuilding. Also everyone is gay.

Planescape: Torment (Video Game) - This is widely considered one of the greatest RPGs of all time, and though you have to deal with a fair amount of jank and perhaps a little more reading than you'd like in a video game, the design and atmosphere of Sigil alone make it worthwhile. Then there's the cast of characters, most of which are like two bad days away from becoming a supervillain and all of whom hate each others' guts. Need I say more?

The Magnus Archives (Podcast) - TMA is definitely not for all DA fans, but if your favourite part of DAO was the broodmother section, and you really enjoyed the slowly unfolding tragedy of Kirkwall and the feeling of Hawke being doomed by the narrative, you might find yourself hooked, as I did. There are also some extremely good characters in here, all uniquely fucked up in their own way, and getting to know them in between the main segments of episodes was the definite highlight for me.

That's all for now, and again, if you'd like to add to this list, please be my guest! There are a handful of things I think would probably fit here but I haven't watched/played/read yet, so if you think something extremely obvious is missing, that's most likely why.

[hanamukes]

To feel saved by your words (Taki and Uika)

While I believe you could compile endless comparisons between any two members of MyGO and Ave Mujica, something that's been on my mind a lot recently are the similarities found between Taki and Uika. Tomori and Sakiko are the ones who pull the story along, but I think Taki and Uika both hold a similar position within the contexts of their relationships with them that warrants a closer look.

This isn't a "complete" and cohesive analysis, so much as a collection of observations I've made as I've been combing through Uika's scenes again lately.

Small disclaimer, but given that Uika as we know her exists in approximately 10 minutes of It's MyGO footage, a lot of this will be my own interpretation of her few existing scenes. Your mileage may vary! I analyze Uika a bit more than Taki here, but this is simply because I honestly feel as if Taki's writing is more blunt and explicit―to "analyze" her almost feels more like a summary of the events and dialogue, whereas with Uika, all we can do is piece together the small crumbs that we have.

To start, I want to talk a little bit about their positions in their respective bands. In ways, they feel similar, but in many more ways, they feel completely different.

Uika is not the "leader" of Ave Mujica in any sense of the word. Sakiko is―Uika is figuratively and literally a puppet Sakiko is playing with. However, she is the "protagonist" of Ave Mujica's stage plays. This is an important distinction to make because while Uika is not the one pulling the strings as we've seen proven in the anime, it's not entirely unfounded for anyone to claim that she may have a special position within the context of the band (even ignoring the fact that vocalists tend to be the "face" of the band which many misconstrue to mean they are the leader).

Taki is an interesting case because she's not the front and center of her band, nor does she have "protagonist" traits, nor does she have something that draws people to her―but nonetheless, through her hard work alone, she has become the primary force that keeps MyGO held together (even if it, at times, feels like duct tape).

I like this distinction between them. Uika gets her special little place just by being popular and having had past connections with Sakiko, while Taki affirms hers by working harder than any one person would have to in order to keep a band together. One of them gets what they want with sheer luck alone, while the other must cling to this band as if it's the last thing she'll ever get the grace of doing.

Though, just what do Tomori and Sakiko mean to Taki and Uika?

Tomori's words save Taki and let her breathe, while if we're to interpret the Ave Mujica doll lore shown in their concerts as applying to their actresses, Doloris repeatedly talks about having a special somebody who accepts her for who she really is deep down, and how she wants to stay alone with them for an eternity―perhaps this is a hint as to how Uika views Sakiko (which has some support in the anime, as I think Sakiko's message to Uika has more to it than meets the eye).

I think there's something to be said about how Taki and Uika seem unhappy with their circumstances (Taki lives her life compared to her sister, while one of Uika's only solo scenes being her dropping the happy idol facade is telling to me), but it's Tomori and Sakiko's words that save them. For Taki, this is Tomori's songs (specifically Haruhikage), for Uika, this takes form in rereading Sakiko's consoling message from her idol debut over and over.

Notably with Taki, this is the happiest we ever see her! Tomori and Sakiko's words save them, and it's absolutely written all over their faces. It's not subtle at all.

Also, how we're (formally) introduced to both characters is in the context of their respective separation with Tomori and Sakiko: Taki is yelling at Anon for scaring Tomori away (after she finally found her again) while this text message scene is Uika's.

Now, separation is of course a huge theme with these bands in general, so what makes their examples special?

Where I think they differ from the others is in the way they approach these separations. Here's the thing: in a way, Taki feels as if her life purpose hinges on being around Tomori, but despite this, she never tracked her down in her absence. Uika always pulls out Sakiko's comforting message to her, so much to the point that she can recite it word for word on the fly, and yet despite having her phone number, she never messaged her. We can see the last message sent between Uika and Sakiko was that conversation from a year ago, and this has to be deliberate.

She probably wants nothing more than to see Sakiko again (when Sakiko calls her in episode 7, she literally blushes and shifts her hair in excitement about it, and I will also mention the director implied the reason she goes to the planetarium is because it reminds her of the stargazing she did on the island with Sakiko), and yet she respects Sakiko to be the one to take that step in contacting her first.

This is also something prevalent with Taki: Soyo exists as proof that if she really wanted to, she could have stalked or harassed Tomori into getting her back in her life, but instead she was patient. She valued Tomori needing space. She put Tomori's feelings above and before her own.

There's just this level of yearning behind their words and actions―of wanting someone in your life so badly, of thinking about them every single day, of looking back at all of your memories together and hoping and praying for the day they will reach out to you once more but not taking that first step yourself out of modesty for your own feelings―that I think separates them from the others. (Ironically, the closest that comes to this is actually Tomori herself but in regards to Sakiko.)

Another big theme they share is that they're rather open with their affection for Tomori/Sakiko, but the way they convey those feelings isn't always interpreted the way they intended for it to be.

(One could perhaps interpret Sakiko's reaction here as embarrassment, and I do think this is a part of it, but given this is the one interaction she's had this series that isn't someone trying to dox her or begging her to be with them, I think she'd be well within her rights to be confused at why Uika's also so obsessively fixated on her.)

Taki falls more under the "awkward" umbrella than Uika (so I'm not about to insinuate I think this will be as common with Uika and Sakiko going forward as it has been for Taki and Tomori), but they both share this trait of "I want to express how much you mean to me" and it being met with confusion.

The way they respond to said rejection is similar as well.

(This anime is very good at expression via a character's eyes alone, and I think this is conveyed really well with both Taki and Uika.)

And of course, because their intent was never to hurt and rather was the opposite (to cherish), they're not afraid to apologize, no matter how "insignificant" their offense may have been.

(The framing on these shots fascinates me, as if the camera needs to zoom out to capture the recipient of the apology in the frame in order for it to land.)

Everything is with Tomori/Sakiko's best interest in mind, but sometimes, just your thoughts and feelings isn't enough. You need to convey those feelings appropriately to the person you're saying them to, and Tomori/Sakiko are of course not the world's easiest people to get through to.

I think on the surface, Uika is presented to us as a character who Taki could aspire to be like. She's calm, collected, and she's able to get through to Tomori as a fellow vocalist. What was that planetarium scene for if not to point out that Uika could present herself as a threat to Taki? But on the other hand, we've seen Sakiko shut Uika down twice already; it's not like her one moment with Tomori makes her better than Taki at communicating with the one she cherishes most, even if she seems more sociable. Tomori is even a bit weirded out that Uika called her by name despite her never telling it to her. When you get down to it and look past their exteriors, they have the same struggles at hand.

Speaking of Sakiko's rejection of Uika, this brings me to what I believe is the most striking parallel between their scenes.

The last episode is fascinating because one of the two examples of Sakiko shutting down Uika is when Uika asks if she can go home with her on the train. We know this is something Taki does with Tomori as well, but that's not what I want to point out here (though that's also noteworthy in its own way):

Earlier in that same episode, Taki was also rejected when she wanted to walk Tomori home! The reasons of course differ (Soyo wanted to talk with Tomori so it's not as if Tomori herself rejected Taki, while I get the impression that at this point Uika still doesn't know of Sakiko's home situation which seems to be the real reason Sakiko said no fun side note though: a Sumimi commercial is very much on screen in the following frame of Sakiko on the train), but the framing of both scenes is very similar, and I honestly find this hard to ignore. The Taki one of course makes sense as it's a well-established thing between her and Tomori to ride the train home together, but Uika had no reason to ask to go home with Sakiko on the train. She got to the venue in a cab just fine! It feels very deliberate to me to have both of these happen in the same episode and to also put narrative weight on both moments as well. When I saw the Taki scene, I thought "Huh, so we're just not getting Taki closure?" and while the Uika scene was too late in the episode for me to really expect an actual scene even had Sakiko said yes, they're similar in that both of these scenes work to set up future developments in the sequel. We're still owed the closure Soyo pulling Tomori away from Taki robbed us from, and we're owed seeing Uika learn about Sakiko's home life.

Something else that I think about often is how Taki and Uika are involved in the songwriting process for their respective bands:

Taki and Sakiko are composers while Tomori and Uika are lyricists

Sakiko and Uika both read Tomori's poetry/ventings in her notebook and attribute it to being lyrical. (Taki does as well but this isn't a discovery she makes through having a one-to-one with Tomori)

Sakiko and Taki both feel inspired by Tomori's writing and do whatever they can to make compositions fitting for her words

While we don't know much about the Ave Mujica songwriting process as of yet, one of the interviews confirms that Uika does the lyrics for Ave Mujica songs. This leaves a lot to be considered regarding 1. why Sakiko wanted her for her band 2. what Sakiko would see in her writing and if it's comparable to how she feels reading Tomori's writing (as a note here: Tomori's writing makes her human, while Uika's writing turns her into a monster), and 3. Uika writes to other people's ideas, but she still feels as though singing is something that conveys her heart to others

Those are some general observations I have regarding this. To both Taki and Uika, they want to see out Tomori/Sakiko's musical ambitions, and they pour their heart into what they do. Of course all the band members are doing this (by playing their respective instruments, and Raana does contribute to MyGO songs in her own ways), but these two go above and beyond in their motivations.

As a much more subtle thing, I want to point out something interesting It's MyGO did: the various Sumimi shills throughout the series that happen during major scenes where characters are trying to communicate how they want to reconcile moving forward. Honestly this is a topic so fascinating I'd love to make its own post dedicated to it, but I want to talk about it here briefly as well because it does relate to Taki. Notably, I want to talk about the example of this in episode 5, because the framing of it felt the most deliberate there.

To set the scene, Tomori just expressed that she doesn't want to hold a concert because that'll end their band, which leaves Taki and Soyo hanging as they're unsure how to move forward from there if Tomori doesn't want to. The scene changes to Taki and Soyo, with Taki overlooking Sumimi's music video.

(The way the shots are composed makes it seem like Taki is staring at the music video, complete with the light of the scenes reflecting on her face, but when we get this zoomed out shot with Soyo in frame, it looks more like she's looking off to the side.)

As Soyo's talking about how unsure Tomori feels and how she's still thinking about CRYCHIC, Here the World is playing in the background. We can hear it pretty clearly; even more clearly than we heard it in the literal karaoke scene! The song continues until it fades out at this line:

The sudden silence almost feels deafening. Taki starts talking about how Tomori's words saved her, and how they made her feel seen. The MV is still playing in the background, we just can't see or hear it. But it comes back on screen to be a backdrop to these lines:

(Interesting how they chose this specific angle that captures the Sumimi MV in the backdrop, when they could have done a different one or turned the video off entirely since the song isn't even playing anymore. Also for the last line, Uika and Mana's silhouettes are no longer on the screen.)

What is the purpose of this? Is it to foreshadow that Sakiko would invite Uika to her band a few episodes later? Do Taki's words apply to Uika as well?

Soyo then continues on and says in order to avoid having things go south again, they need to communicate with one another. Then she says Taki needs to tell Tomori how she feels.

I think the most compelling shot in this scene is this one though.

Because 2 episodes later, this exact shot in the MV is what Sakiko scrunches her face at post-Haruhikage.

(Well, even if Taki's feelings didn't get through to Tomori, Uika did finally get through to Sakiko given she calls her immediately after this. Interesting.)

Taki is trying to express how much Tomori means to her and Sakiko is trying to get over MyGO playing Haruhikage, and there's Uika; happy, smiling, sparkling, and getting everything handed to her. It almost feels as if the MV is there to mock these characters, who are struggling so much to even keep a band together. She's an outsider who doesn't even know that Crychic has disbanded.

It's just one of those things that feels so meaningless, and yet at the same time, the Sumimi MV would not be playing during these scenes unless the writers wanted it to, for whatever reason that may be.

To wrap this post up, I want to mention that I find it very amusing how the director mentioned that Uika was actually not originally intended to be shown in a school setting (like Nyamu is), but when they were thinking about what school to put her in, they put her in the same classroom as Taki because of potential interactions between them. I am very eager to see those interactions in future content, and how Taki will react once she realizes that Uika (and Umiri) are in a band with Sakiko. It'll be interesting to see whether or not these two become proper foils to each other, as I see a lot of potential here given both of their respective relationships with our protagonists. Going back to what I said about Uika being presented to us as something Taki could aspire to be like, I actually hope it turns out to be the opposite: I hope that Taki sees Uika's relationship with Sakiko and learns what not to do with Tomori. This may just me being hopeful though (as in the Ave Mujica concerts, Oblivionis takes advantage of Doloris' dedication to her and turns her into a monster―I want to see something akin to this happen with Sakiko and Uika). We'll truly just have to see!

[asterdisaster06]

i love you, ain't that the worst thing you've ever heard?

ghost x reader [exes], slight soap x reader [mostly platonic], platonic 141 x reader

1. 2. 3.

summary > "Don't trust people like me. I will hurt you in the most beautiful and intoxicating ways so that you can never go back to your normal life without my ghost following you."

...

"If you always put yourself before others, one day you'll look behind and see that you're all alone."

...

Simon "Ghost" Riley had fucked up. Massively. He had pushed you away because he was scared of losing you to the life he lived. He didn't want to see you go down the same path and lose that beautiful intoxicating spark that you always carried in your eye. And now he didn't even recognize you. Not after you had done so much work to fulfill yourself, changing the person he once knew. You had successfully climbed the ranks of the 141 Taskforce and was now crowned the second lieutenant of the team. However, you can't dodge the piercing looks that Simon sends you every now and then. You can't pretend forever.

warnings > simon riley is alluded to be a bit of a dick in this chapter

a/n > reader cenetred. author has family issues so will be found family-ing this shit. author has no military knowledge so don’t crucify me. also have no idea how long it takes to officially become a Lieutenant but we’re going with around 5 years - shortened from 7+ because us readers are smart and can go to college. it’s very much just poetic feels, but I promise the angst with Simon directly comes eventually. He’s kind of a dick tbh but that’s cause he’s emotionally repressed. i’m romanticising this because i’ve lived through similar and wish this was how it ended lmao

ao3

Simon Riley was the bane of your existence. His very being pissed you off to no end, and it wasn’t unwarranted. That anger had once been crippling sorrow and grief over what you had lost. The anger had begun as a small seed, planted in the harsh words he growled at you through gritted teeth that night. The same words that you hissed back in his face. But eventually you had managed to move on from the love of your life. Managed to move on after weeks spent with tear stained pillows and the stuffed animal he had won you once hugged to your chest. You would’ve shoved that thing in the back of your closet, but you figured you shouldn’t take your anger out on the poor thing. 

Thinking of him still makes you wince like hitting your shin against a table leg, but less so. It’s faded to a simple bruise on your heart that still aches from time to time. A phantom pain for the ghost that still haunts you. Like smoke in the wind. You still fear whispering his name at night as if his spirit will come back to haunt you. You still have the keys to his apartment in your bedside drawer. You still remember where he keeps his spoons. Sometimes you wonder how many cups of tea you’ve wasted from pouring them down the drain after realising you’re still stuck in the habit of making two. 

However, you know it’s for the best that you’ve parted ways. It reminds you a little of a moment in your life with him, ironically. There was this one time that you had managed to drag Simon to the beach as a small celebration for him and were out swimming as the sun had set. He only stuck his toes into the water as you swam out until you couldn’t reach the bottom. He had told you he wouldn’t save you, and you shouted back in response that you didn’t need saving. You almost want to thank him now for saying that he’d let you drown. Thank him for teaching you that you never needed saving. Not from him anyways.

It was this exact night that had led to the complete and utter dismantling of your relationship with one Simon Riley. Recalling it stings like sand in the wind against your bare legs. The kind of pelting pain that leaves no visible marks but hurts nonetheless. It steals the breath from your lungs and puts a stone in your heart. 

You were so happy, so very happy. And you thought that Simon would be too. Especially for you. You broke the news to him as you were laying there on the beach that you wanted to join the military. You wanted to continue that it was because you had looked up to him so very much and wanted to do good just like he did. Even if he didn’t exactly believe he was. Before you could do so though, he had blown up on you. Completely. It was a complete shift from the Simon you thought you had known. You shudder to recall exactly what he had said, but it escalated enough for one of you to call it off. 

It had gone silent after those words were uttered. 

Complete silence.

You had refused to let the tears fall until you had grabbed your shit and booked a flight back to your home town. The airport bathroom had offered a greater sympathy than he had ever given you. He never even called you. You think that’s what hurts the most. That you didn’t mean enough to him to even try and work this out. You expected better from him. You truly did. 

“I can’t fucking believe how bloody stupid you would have to be to do that.”

Nonetheless, you picked yourself up and signed up for the military with your family and friends supporting your every move. Your every breath. You learned to defend yourself, learned to love yourself. You had gotten around here and there, but nobody ever truly measured up to Simon. Sometimes you wonder what would’ve happened if you two had met when you were already in the military, but you always shut down those what if thoughts quite quickly. No use dwelling on something that could never be.

“This is a big fucking mistake, love.”

You rose the ranks quickly, using your spite to your advantage. Every man that reminded you of Simon always made you fight even harder. You had always told a half truth when someone asked why you wanted to join. Not the story of pain and bitterness, but the one of hope and admiration of an old friend. It made you want to throw up after the third time of giving that response, so eventually you simply changed the subject when someone asked. You didn’t even spill your past when you were blackout drunk; it being too painful even then. You drowned your sorrows in liquor and nicotine, going out with your top tier squad every Friday. Sometimes when it came to a close and you were left with the quiet of your own deafening thoughts you went outside to smoke a pack of Simon’s favourite cigarettes. A weakness that you hated yourself for. 

"You are no saint, and you are no saviour either. You're just lying to yourself."

Those words ring out in your mind every time you fail to save someone. A fellow soldier or a civilian, it doesn’t matter. Self doubt creeps up on you, smothering you in its grasp. Your hands remain stained with their blood, no matter how much you scrub your skin raw in the shower. You hear their screams ring out in your brain at night, piercing the thin veil of fitful sleep that you’ve resigned yourself to after you had lost the warmth of your other half that used to hold you tight at night. Your eyes had lost their brightness, though you can’t say it’s exactly correlated to the loss of the victims. You couldn’t prove Simon right in that aspect. Not after you’ve come this far. 

"Anything would be better than this!"

You wanted to believe that so badly, but your heart longed for this career almost as much as it did him. You took pride in those you had saved; albeit still haunted by those you could not. The abilities you had earned your right to were presented proudly through tactical patches displayed on your uniform - chest candy as he would’ve called it. But if he couldn’t support you through this, you didn’t know how to trust him for future endeavours. The lack of apologies simply cemented your decision and mindset. 

"Why would somebody do this on purpose?"

It’s a question whose full answer still eludes you to this day. All you know is that you felt homesick for this life before even experiencing it. It’s the ache in your bones and has been carved into your ribs so you may feel the torment and euphoria all at once when your heart slams against the cage that keeps it safe. Contained. 

It’s these thoughts that occupy your mind on the plane trip to the infamous compound that houses the 141 Taskforce. Anxiety pierces your nerves, sending what little food you had that morning tumbling around your stomach. Forgetting your meds this morning was likely the worst thing that you could have possibly done. Except for completely ghosting this experience. How odd it is to be haunted by someone still alive. Someone who has no idea if you’re still breathing, let alone travelling to your very location at that moment. 

There was no logical reason for you to turn this collaboration down; in fact, in any other circumstances you would be proud of rising so far that you were sent to this facility. Except for the fact that it was this facility. The very one that your ex who has tormented you through night a day for years. You hadn’t spoken a word of his name to anyone after the first month following the breakup. You wanted a life where your friends didn’t even know his name, let alone his significance. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to be a part of your life anymore. 

You repeat this mantra to yourself as you realise you’re finally landing. 

Shit.

That syllable is the only thing bouncing around your head as you’re greeted by John Price. The John Price. Alone, you notice. You had heard bits and pieces of Ghost’s team, but mostly of either Soap’s shenanigans or Price’s rulings over him. You swallow harshly and shake the hand of the powerful Captain. The very same one that had no idea that one of his subordinate’s had been your previous lover. And you planned to keep it that way at all costs. 

“Welcome to the base Lieutenant, I’ve heard great things about you and your stealth skills on the battlefield,” Price spoke, shaking your hand firmly. 

Lieutenant. You had always loved the sound of that word in front of Simon’s name, and had similarly always wondered how it would sound in front of yours. It brought a sense of satisfaction rushing through your veins, and yet at the same time it brought you to your knees from nausea. It reminded you too much of him.

“There was the callsign ‘Angel’ in the details Laswell sent over. Would you say that still suits you?” Price says, almost amused. 

Angel. You had never intended for it to be ever spoken to you again considering its connotations with a nickname Simon had always called you. His little angel. He claimed that you were sent down from the heavens to save the sinners; although, you had never considered him one until the breakup. 

How you had gained this callsign is a story that makes you want to shake like a wet dog. Shake the memory off until it vanishes from your grasp. When you were simply doing your job and slowly climbing the ranks through your initial trade training, you had this sergeant that had taken a liking to you. Much to your chagrin. He had started every conversation with the classic pickup line about you falling from heaven. It was pure torment that you had to endure for almost a full year; a year in which the nickname stuck. Nobody was willing to do anything about it, and you weren’t willing to cause a fuss by tattling on your - at the time - superior. It ended up following you out of that academy into your career. 

Although, you had quickly earned the added benefit of having ‘Angel of Death’ be your full callsign after you had proven your covert operation skills - effectively wiping out an entire compound by yourself with none the wiser. Safe to say that mission was a success. The name now had something to do with your actual skills instead of your physical appearance and led you to cringe at the honorific less and less. 

“I don’t think I’d be able to answer to anything else, Sir,” You answer, wincing at the mention of your callsign nonetheless.

He sends you a questioning look at your small recoil, but brushes it off in favour of moving onto a general tour of the area. It was a sizable facility with many accommodations that made you almost smile with anticipation of taking advantage of all of them. I mean, you even got your own personal shower with your room. Who is going to complain about that?

“So, that’s basically it,” Price finishes up the tour in his office. “I know you already signed off with Laswell on your contract, but just for the record, may I have you sign a few documents here in this folder? Feel free to take your time going through them.”

You overlooked the folder, noticing what little details you had shared throughout your career being asked to be confirmed by your penmanship. It makes you give a shallow smile at the memories you’ve contracted through your experiences. Some less than savoury, but many you wouldn’t give up for the world. You were looking forward to catching up with your friends back at your old base once you were settled in, but until then you scratched pen against paper. 

You had finally completed signing on all the lines, getting a little tired at being told ‘here, here, and here’ over and over again. Your eyes burned with exhaustion, not quite realising how much your anxiety had taken out of you. Your hands had a small leftover tremor plaguing them as you handed the pen back to Price, but you felt better. Significantly better. 

“I can tell you’re tired, so I’ll lead you to your quarters and let you rest there for tonight,” Price says, sending you a small quirk of his lips.

“Thank you, Captain,” You reply, sending a tired yet appreciative look in his direction. 

“Oh, please, call me Price. If you know Kate as well as she says you do, you’ve earned that at the least,” He laughs. 

You flush red, letting out a bashful grin at that. It was true that you had run into Kate a few times before realising what a big part she played in your field of work. Most of the time at the coffee shop where you held a part-time job while attending the military academy. However, the time you had sat across from her and her wife after getting stood up really sealed the deal. You being introduced as the ‘person that actually gets our coffee right’ which gave you all a good laugh. They had comforted you once you opened up about why you were at a fancy dinner alone, they welcomed you into their open arms, and that was that. The topic ended up on what you were studying for, and it all came out into the open. The silent conversation those two had with their eyes before opening up had almost made you shit yourself before Kate explained. 

You had tried to stay slightly distant after figuring out exactly what she did for a living, but she had shut that down real quick - saying that if anyone had dared to call you a nepo-baby that they wouldn’t live to tell the tale. You really hoped she was exaggerating. 

Back in the present, you were letting out a laugh at Price’s words before there was a knock at the door. Your heart dropped to your stomach, making your breath stumble before completely halting. In your heart, you knew who it was before Price even told him to let himself in. The gruff voice saying he didn’t expect Price to have company so late made you feel like a deer in headlights, unable to move as their untimely demise stares them right in the face. 

Except this time around, this deer had broken through the freeze reaction long ago. You had learned and adapted, unwilling to relive being frozen as Simon yelled in your face yet again. You couldn’t face the shame quite yet, not unprompted at least.  

You quickly turned away from your initial reaction of turning to the door. You mouth goodbye to Price and nod in respect; hoping that he would forgive you for abandoning his office without any notice. You kept your eyes to the floor, feeling his eyes staring holes through you, burning your skin like a bullet wound. 

You had changed a lot throughout the years, more so in preparation for being moved here. You weren’t going to turn down this once in a lifetime opportunity just because of a silly disagreement over half a decade ago. You remember staring at a face you barely recognize today while gripping the porcelain off white sink in your shared bathroom. Past you taking actions to change your hair into something that ended up being the new normal. You had taken a page out of Ghost’s book and invested in DIY-ing a personalised mask that resembled a bird with tinted glass shielding your eyes from anyone that could recognize you simply off that. You actually had quite a few - each one for a different occasion. 

Nonetheless, the mask you currently wore, its only purpose that you cared about right now was hiding your identity. Simon didn’t immediately react, so you took that as a good sign. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was simply concealing his emotions, but you had a feeling that wasn’t the case. You peruse the halls, not entirely sure how to get to your room. You had a vague idea, but backtracking made it a little more difficult. Especially since you were more concerned with conversing with Price than memorising the exact layout. 

You take a turn around a corner, immediately bumping into someone with a familiar face, your eyes betraying your displeasure as you wordlessly stared into the Scots eyes.

[wolfertinger]

Actually, if I may, I'd like to come back here and make one other statement in regards to a lot I've seen on this blog now that I've gone through it and digested some of it. I don't usually agree with blogs like this existing, which is one of other reasons I tried to steer clear of it. Even if I do agree with a lot that's been said or pointed out about these people, but I feel that those that run this blog don't have malicious intent in mind. Most people here clearly just want these people to do better.

This isn't me trying to be preachy. It's just something I'd like to say, because I find a lot of similarities in some of the behaviors I've seen shown on this blog in regards to Salem and others, that I have somewhat experienced myself.

My statement is mainly regarding the kind of "Oh but I've changed, I'm different now I'm not that person anymore!" behavior that Salem, Majora and even Wis seem to love exhibiting while avoiding accountability. I apologize if this is long.

I'll start off by saying and admitting that I myself am guilty of being a pretty "problematic" person in my past. I won't go over the entire list of shit I've done, but I can admit I was not a good person. The last decade of my life was rough. I did A LOT things that hurt people. Whether or not it was intentional, I still hurt people. Whether or not it was my mental health issues worsening and making my behavior more erratic and explosive, I still hurt people. That's the point. I was reactive, selfish, and unable to take criticism in any way. This was somewhat due to unresolved declining mental health issues and addiction issues I had making my behavior worse over time, but still. I was responsible nonetheless. I still am.

I never liked being told I was wrong, even though I often was. I was deeply insecure and would lash out a lot. It even got to the point where I was so desperate to be liked and accepted that I made friends with the wrong people. If someone was even remotely nice to me, despite any obvious red flags, I would associate with them because I just wanted to be liked. It was that bad. It got to the point that I wrongfully defended someone who was actually disgusting and even was friends with someone who was a proven groomer. People tried to warn me. I didn't listen because I felt like the warnings were personal attacks and I felt I could trust this new friend. I was also told by this person herself that the callouts were "old" and "exaggerated" and that she "wasn't that way anymore" (newsflash, she was and was indulging with very disgusting content during our friendship without me knowing). And I wrongfully defended her. Hell, I didn't even touch her callouts. Never read them. That's where I fucked up.

It was only until my best friend pulled me aside and said "hey you need to actually look at the warnings these people are giving you because this person you're friends with and her other friends are not good people." Because she took some time to look into the issue herself.

When I looked at the evidence, it was like this moment of "oh my god what the fuck have I been doing defending someone like this and associating with anyone like her?" and I cut her off and felt horrified. Ya know? Because I myself am a victim of grooming and SA and know that the kind of content this person was indulging in (she liked loli/shota and lied to me about liking it) was harmful, and the people she was caught associating with (like that groomer mentioned prior) were BAD. PEOPLE. I told myself I'd never get involved with people like her, and yet, there I was doing what I said I'd never do. And why? Because I was insecure and just wanted acceptance. I didn't care where it came from. That realization was mortifying. I felt disgusted with myself. As I should have.

And again, before this even happened, as I said before: I'd burned many bridges in the past over being unable to take criticism well, or needing attention, making mistakes and blowing up over them. I wouldn't say I was abusive, but I was certainly volatile and nasty about it. While some people who I had run ins with in the past did have bad intentions towards me, not all of them did. And I took every criticism thrown at me as a personal attack. Much like how Salem and his associates are doing now. It's not something I'm proud of but yeah. It all just lead up to this point where I realized I had a problem and I was putting myself in the positions I constantly found myself in. After all, if you constantly find yourself in turmoil so many times, do you ever get to that point where you stop and think and go "maybe I'm the problem? I should do something about this."

When this happened, I publicly denounced her, made a post on an old blog apologizing to those I'd hurt through the years and through my ignorance, I nuked all of my accounts, and left the internet for a while to get real help. I got sober, I got some therapy, got some diagnosis done and started working on ways to improve and undo a lot of the toxic behaviors I was exhibiting and internalized within me. I'm STILL working on this, by the way. This shit isn't something you can fix easily. I started working on music again and teaching myself new and healthier ways to cope with the things in my life that had always attributed to making me such a difficult individual to be around. I've also worked hard at being able to take criticism better (albeit I still struggle sometimes lol) and to be a lot more careful of who I associate with. (Though, let's be real. I kind of slipped up again in accepting Majoras friendship last year, when there were many red flags there that I should not have avoided). I've also worked super hard to educate myself on matters I was ignorant towards in the past, and tried to undo and unlearn a lot of harmful mindsets that were ingrained into me during my upbringing that I'd never addressed before. The responsibility to do all of this falls on me, and me alone. As it should for any individual. It doesn't matter what traumas you experienced in the past, or what mental health struggles you face: you are still responsible for yourself and your own actions.

And for the millionth time: I'm STILL working on all of this. You don't just change over night. I've been working on it for 3+ years now. I came back to the internet just a little bit before getting back into music and posting my shit online. Ever since I've made better efforts to improve myself, I've found my current friendships healthier. I've been more honest with myself. I even came out with my gender struggles (genderfluid) and my sexuality (lesbian) that I'd been hiding from friends and family for years. I've found myself to be happier, and more honest with myself and others. I also now make art that is more organic to me and isn't just made to make other people like me, or to give me validation from strangers who don't actually like me at all but just wanted wanking material. Because I also did used to make a lot of overly sexualized content for that reason. (That and my struggles with hypersexuality and unaddressed sexual trauma but yeah). And ever since I started making art that's actually organically me and is something I enjoy doing, I've never been happier and more at peace. I don't care about the audience attention or size anymore. I just find joy in expressing myself through my art. That's all I need. And in time, the audience has just kind of built itself. Because the people who like my art now appreciate the genuineness and personality within it. And while it's cool and all to have a big audience, now that I've worked on finding validation within myself, I don't really need that external validation anymore. It's not that addictive now. I just like to create. That's what brings me true happiness.

This is something I feel Salem and his associates fail to grasp. They desire the attention from a sizable audience. They desire attention in any way they can get it. It's not good or you. When you focus too much on this desire for validation and attention from so many strangers that don't actually know you, you cannot truly look inside yourself and change. It becomes unhealthy.

Real change isn't something you can brag about (and I stg I'm not bragging about mine. I'm trying to make a point here.) You can't just sit there and constantly announce "I'VE CHANGED I'VE CHANGED MY PAST IS BEHIND ME THAT'S NOT ME ANYMORE GUYS LOOK I'M TOTALLY DIFFERENT NOW" and then lash out at people who are criticizing the repetitive behaviors you are clearly still exhibiting. Real change is about looking inside of you, and around you and being able to criticize yourself and to start undoing those problems. YOU have to put in the work. You can't just get a slap on the wrist, and be on your way to repeat it. And no. No one from your past has to forgive you for what you've done. If you're truly changing as a person, you'd know and accept this. Even if you change for the better, you are still not owed anyone's forgiveness. And YES, you can have good intentions and try to work on yourself while slipping up and making a few mistakes along the way. That's literally what change is all about. Being human, making mistakes and learning from them.

And when you use your identity or mental health struggles as a shield from criticism, you're actually doing so much more harm than good for yourself. AND towards others.

And also, I get it: callout culture is honestly very toxic. Especially nowadays. Yes. There are people who abuse it and use it to ruin other peoples lives. Or they use it to emphasize on problems that could easily just be solved in person and aren't that serious.

But when you're being warned that you are associating with actual predators, or rape apologists, abusers, etc when you already have a questionable history that you clearly learned nothing from? I don't think that's people targeting you for the wrong reasons. While some of the things said on this blog are actually pretty disgusting, I will admit, most of it is not. Most of it is people wanting someone with a large platform to do better and to not spread harmful rhetoric and ideologies to their impressionable audience. I really don't think that's so difficult to understand or for people to ask of you. It's very sad to watch someone like Salem, who is actually a decent artist, refuse to take this in and reflect. Brother, you're still young. You have time to do better NOW at a very young age. Don't be like me and let that shit fester well into your 20s to the point that you have a severe crash and burn moment so low that you almost can't pull yourself out of it. It's not a great road to go down. Trust me. And shit, if you want to make fetish content? Great! You do that. More power to you. But don't act like you're some furry body positivity art messiah when there's many others who make the same type of content as you. Humble yourself. Just be honest with yourself. There's no shame in being a fetish artist, so long as you're responsible about it. This ain't a dis at you either. You clearly have talent. I won't deny that.

I feel 95% of the people on this blog do want what's best for you. It's not being done out of malicious intent. Others clearly not so much, but yeah. Although many of the things you've done I don't think are that easily forgivable. Even so, you still are at a good point in your life where you could actually reflect and change.

That's really all I have to say. Sorry if it's long or repetitive. It was just something that was stewing in my mind as I took the time to really digest all the shit here. Seeing a bit of similarities between my past behaviors and the shit Salem and CO are showing now, it was pretty jarring to say the least.

thank you again, for your thoughts. they are genuinely appreciated. and again, i am sorry if this situation, myself included, brought up any old wounds. your statements have all been incredibly enlightening, as to the kind of person majora really is. especially as, several times now, i have given them the platform and opportunity, to be honest and share their story. yet, they would rather spout vague lies, as a way to detract from survivors of their abuses, like you. best of luck moving forward. and please know, there are many people that support you. the truth, always prevails.

[alliskit]

The Grand Design.

On AO3.

TW: 18+. THE NEXT SEVERAL CHAPTERS will include depictions of abuse and violence. It addresses sexual abuse themes and includes explicit sexual content. Sadly, I wouldn’t suggest skipping it this chapter, but pieces of it will be addressed within other chapters. As for the others I will leave a notice for what to skip.

Song I had on repeat while writing this:

CH. 7: Vanpires Ar Reall.

- The Prelude - The Show - The Encore (Astarion POV)

There are so many eventualities that I could have planned for, but this. The week from utter hell. This never could have plagued my already dark imaginations. It is natural for me to think the worst, for survival purposes, but when I was surprised by something much scarier than I could have ever dreamt, it threw me.

[Astarion Note: Yes, I give you express permission to break our pact so you may include and take to print the events that occurred. They were just as much a living nightmare for me, but I had already lived a much worse one. I'm so sorry, always.]

We set down for the night in an ancient druid sanctuary under a large tree canopy. We decided we needed come up with a better strategy to approach the hag in her own domain. What did we have that could be used to bargain and were we equipped to take her on if things went south?

Wyll took up cooking duties so Gale could study up on different hags and their powers. The evening was somber and quiet. Most of my companions spent the evening sharpening weapons and checking spells. Wyll took a walk after dinner. Gale said it was to probably converse with his patron on how to deal with the hag, if Wyll could still communicate with them under the tadpole's interference.

The moon was bright through the branches, sky clear. It was beautiful. I could feel the tension of my camp mates, even if I had no real sense of what we were going to deal with. I sat down next to Gale, watching Astarion and Durge chat in front of the tent beside his.

"How's the study?"

He peeked up from his book propped in his lap. "It's... Well, I'm not quite sure what to expect. I would rather not have any dealings with a hag, but she didn't make any promises to get you home, so I'm inclined to think this may be a more peaceful encounter."

"What should we expect?" I watched Astarion tap a finger on Durge's chest, then make a snarky face, flirting. 

"We should expect that she doesn't think we know she's a hag, but when we request something of her, she will reveal what she is and expect payment of some kind. Usually, it is something hard to pay."

I nodded, "Well, she is the one who made the offer, so maybe she'll be amiable. Maybe, she won't ask for anything."

He watched me blankly, "Doubtful, but I like your positivity."

I tapped his knee with my hand. "Your food is probably cold by now. Don't waste it." I thumbed toward the bowl of soup sitting on the edge of the rug. 

He looked at it, then went back to his book, "I'll get around to it." Then more to himself, "Wouldn't want to disappoint Tara."

"Who's Tara?"

His eyes shot to me, "Oh, I didn't mean to say that out loud. She's my tressym."

"A tressym?"

He smiled, "Only the best animals there are. Very intelligent and gifted wielders."

"Animals can wield magic?"

He hummed, "Oh, yes. But, very few. Tressyms are one such exceptional beings. I summoned her myself and she never left my side. Well, she didn't join me at the Academy or Blackstaff, but was close by, nonetheless."

"What do they look like?" He seemed to be talking around something or he forgot I wouldn't have any frame of reference.

"I take it there are no tressyms on your planet."

I shook my head. 

"Gosh, what a drab plane of existence... no tressyms. Well, they look like house cats with wings." He rubbed the back of his neck as he shook his head in disbelief.

"We have something similar in mythology, like the sphinx, but no, we don't have them forreal."

"Very sad, indeed. If we get ourselves out of this mess, and you have found it in yourself to have a little adventure before you pop home, time willing, I could..." His eyes searched mine, like he was looking for something, hoping, as he said the rest of his thought. "Introduce you to her in Waterdeep. Waterdeep is called the City of Splendors for a reason." His mouth lifted in a soft smile as he watched me. 

I watched him back. I wasn't sure why he would seem nervous about the idea of introducing me to his pet, but sometimes people viewed their pets much like a child. I wouldn't introduce just anyone to Sylas. I smiled back, "I'd like that. I take it's on the water?"

A playful glint lit his eyes, "Yes, very much so. As is my tower. The waves crash below the portico and you can watch the sunset over the ocean."

Impressive, and definitely something I wanted to see, "Well, if you're offering to host, I'll have to take you up on the offer. It sounds enchanting."

The playful glint faded into something pleased. "I think she would really like you."

I watched him a moment, considering everything he'd said to describe his cat, "Does she talk?"

He laughed. "In a way. When a tressym has bonded with someone, you can hear them without a spell or potion, otherwise you'll need to cast speak with animals."

"Ah, interesting. I wish we had bonds like that back home. Would solve a lot of problems. Though, I imagine I'd just hear my dog asking for a ball or outside a hundred times a day."

He smiled, "Oh, she definitely is quite insistent at meal times."

"Sounds like a cat."

His brow perked, "She's so much more."

"All pet owners think that. I would know. I'm guilty of it too."

He bumped me with an elbow, "I should get back to it. I would hate to be literally blindsided."

I pushed to standing, noticing Astarion and Durge again. They were still getting cozy, Astarion leaning in a little more as he spoke low. I left them to it. Better they have each other than have Durge lean on me. 

Though, as I passed them, I heard a small whistle. I turned to see Durge wink and wave in my direction. Astarion watched Durge, annoyed. I bid them both goodnight.

The rest of the night was uneventful. My sleep was as dismal as it had been the last few days.

I could have cursed the sun for rising. I hoped, due to the immense stress of my latest adventure, it might delay the inevitable. But, no. The inevitable was exactly on time, with the worst timing imaginable: I had my period.

Luckily, it wouldn’t be heavy for another day or so. I had time to ask Shadowheart or Lae’zel about options, if they even bled to begin with. It would be just my luck if neither of their races had to deal with this regularly.

We had a quick breakfast and made our way back through the swamp. Gale perked up when we located a waypoint. "If this does go well, and you feel safe staying behind, we can, hopefully, get you back much quicker this way."

I eyed the purple runes. "Will it work on me?"

He paused. The others watched him. "Actually... I'm not sure. Possibly not. I guess we will have to see at another time."

We continued on our way. We came upon three staircases. A voice called to us from the top of the stone one to our left. Waiting and waving was a smiling worn traveler armed with a large crossbow.

"Excuse the aroma: powdered iron-vine."

Wyll pushed through the group to the front, his pack jostling with the movement, "An old hunter's trick."

"Yes, if you can't mask your scent, spoil it."

Wyll put out his hand, "The Blade of Frontiers, at your service."

The man shook it, "It's nice to put a face to the name."

A voice cut in from the back of the group: Astarion. "You're a monster hunter? I thought all Gur were vagrant cutthroats."

The rest of us flipped our heads to our companion, confused and surprised at the sudden bigotry and the fact he felt the need to speak up at all.

The man laughed, unphased by the prejudice. "And more. We steal chickens, curse crops, seduce your daughters. If only my people had half the powers others think we possess. Alas, we are simple wanderers. I'm a simple wanderer and monster hunter."

"What monster are you hunting?" Wyll asked.

"I'm hunting a vampire spawn."

Wyll twisted back to us, "See I told you! It was a vampire bite. I'm not an idiot."

There was a round of rolled eyes and guffaws. 

"You've seen proof of the spawn in the area? How long ago and where?" The hunter's interest was piqued.

"Up past Moonhaven to the east. There's a grove nearby and there was a boar drained along the road," Wyll replied.

"Oh that's most helpful. I came to seek the hag of these lands to help me flush him out. I feared he'd gone to ground."

"A vampire spawn? But, why?" Astarion asked from behind me.

"Why does it matter?" Shadowheart probed, watching him.

He pierced her with a look. "It seems so specific. There's so many monsters out here."

The hunter smiled softly, "Vampires are parasites and we don't need a reason to destroy them. In this case, it's a sacred mission from the head of my tribe. She has sent me to capture it and return it to her."

Astarion hummed, "Why capture? And bring it where?"

We were all watching Astarion again. Why was he so invested in a random stranger when he was barely interested in the companions he had known for several days? It's not as if he were asking us about our lives. He hadn't talked to us much besides random teasing and shallow meal talk, with an exception to Durge.

"Baldur's Gate."

Wyll lit up, "You're from the Gate?"

As he and the man spoke about the city, which they were both from, I eyed Astarion. He noticed, his eyes narrowing, "Like what you see?" he said harshly.

I didn't reply. I turned back around, but I heard Durge speak to him, "Do calm down, you're positively twitching."

I heard Wyll ask how, Gandrel, now introduced, would catch a vampire spawn. Wyll clearly wanted to make a point to rest of us. "At night, of course." The reply earned snickers and smirks as Wyll stuffed his ire. Gandrel noticed the response and patted Wyll on the shoulder. "But, I can say no more, some trade secrets we cannot share and are best learned."

"How sensible," Astarion quipped.

Everyone eyed him again. Why Astarion felt the need to continue to respond was getting more curious. 

"We should go, we have a hag to see. But, you have fun tracking your monster," he said through the phoniest smile I had ever seen.

Wyll turned and invited Gandrel to join us. I watched Astarion's smarmy mask drop, anxiety in its place. He quickly recovered when Gandrel denied the offer remarking about needing to go his own way to focus on his hunt. Astarion was the first to turn tail and head up toward the next set of stairs. 

I lead us in, since seeing the hag was my idea. The treehouse was a bit down trodden, but quite cute. If I were to live in a tiny fantasy cottage wrapped around a tree, it would have looked very similar. 

I knocked on the doors. The kind voice replied from within, "Come in, come in!"

The inside was just as cozy. The older woman stood before the stone hearth. It looked like she had some tea on. She flicked her gaze to me, lighting up in recognition, "Oh, sweetie, you came! Let me pour you... Oh and you brought friends. Wonderful."

She scurried up the stairs and wrapped me in an embrace. I couldn't help it, she reminded me again so much of my own grandmother, I held her back. I smiled at her as I pulled back, "Remind me your name again?"

"Ethel, but you may call me Auntie, petal," she said rubbing her hand down my arm. "Introduce me to your friends."

I named everyone off as she smiled and nodded along. "I hope the trip in wasn't too harsh. I'm glad you're all in one piece."

I paused, catching her insinuation. Considering I could see all the traps hidden in the muck, I wondered if she thought we couldn't.  I did my best to pretend like I didn't catch her veiled threat. Some of my companions, like Lae'zel, didn't hide their understanding as they watched the woman carefully.

I smiled at her, "These guys are just my chaperones, but I came to talk to you about my predicament since you offered to give me some direction. Do you mind if they set down to rest a little while you and I talk?" 

She nodded kindly at the rest, "Of course, sweetie. Everyone can take a load off, take a nap, talk a walk if you like. I have a kettle on if any of you would like tea. Also, that basket over there is full of apples. Feel free to take one."

I watched my companions spread out. Gale came up next to me, joining Ethel and I. He held his hand to her, "Gale of Waterdeep. I'm a wizard. I can sense a touch of the wilds about you. As another wielder, I am interested in helping our mutual friend find solutions to her problem."

Ethel shook his hand, patting the top, "It is always a pleasure to make an acquaintance with another who is in touch with the Weave. Feel free to give any advice. I'm an old woman, but willing to learn new things. Who knows, she may have found a solution already in your capable hands."

Gale's cheeks heated, "Thank you, Ethel."

"Call me, Auntie."

He nodded as we followed her to a small table at the hearth. She poured us tea as I began to recount my adventures on the Nautiloid and the aftermath. Ethel and Gale eyed each other, faces a bit drawn over what I was saying. 

Ethel laid a hand on my shoulder, leaning towards me, "You've been through so much. Your bravery should be commended. Nautiliods, from the limited knowledge I have, can cross planes. Mind Flayers are from outside of our world as well. I know of portals to cross planes to places directly connected to Toril, like the Feywilds. But, I have never heard of such that cross to planes that are not somehow attached to our own. Though, Earth may simply be one we have yet to record."

Gale nodded, "Mind Flayers are originally from outside our realm, but have made homes here in the material plane, the Astral, and the Shadowfell." Gale leaned on his elbow, supporting his chin with his hand. "I wonder, since the ship did portal through the hells, if the hells aren't the access point. Some planes we can only access from a middle ground. Evereska is essentially a way station between Faerun and the Feywilds, it exists in both and is the only way in."

Both sat speculating to themselves. I spoke up, "Okay, so theories are that either Earth just hasn't been accessed enough to have been written down, maybe it was accessed but those who hopped back and forth thought it was still Toril?"

"That or they were trapped on your end," Gale added.

"Yeah that tracks with some of our conspiracies. The other is that there is a middle plane, like a link between us."

He and Ethel nodded. 

"Okay, so how do we test the theories?"

Ethel tipped her head back and forth, then turned to me, "Portals are big magic. Very time consuming and often are only granted access by the gods or by those with exceptional gifts. I will 'toot my own horn' so to speak that I am one such, but I deal more with portals that move between this realm. I can do some research and some trials, but for the work necessary, I will need payment. I understand you aren't from here, so I am willing to barter creatively."

She put it so nicely, but my heart started to tick in my chest. The familiar throb causing my breath to go shallow. What would she want of me? What could I even offer her? 

Gale saved me. "I can start the research on the hells and if there are any mentions of external planes yet to be understood. Rumors of rumors, so to speak. I can do a sending and see if some colleagues can't help out."

I nodded, "Thank you guys." I turned to Ethel, trying to keep calm, "What were you thinking for payment because, you're right, I have no gold to my name."

She smiled kindly, "Give me the rest of the day. Come back tomorrow and I will have a better idea. I promise it won't be something you can't deliver on."

She offered us more tea, but we declined and made our way back out into the swamp. We waved up at Gandrel as we turned up the opposite stairs, finding a dry spot to set up camp near the treehouse. 

The afternoon was spent behind books or off on walks and finally around the campfire for our meal. The companions watched me at different times. The anxiety induced chest pain hadn't subsided. It was consuming my attention. I found myself habitually rubbing across my diaphragm or stretching just to make space for more air.

I didn't eat much and kept playing out the conversation with Ethel and Gale. I needed some answers to try to help the small spiral I was swirling into. I found Gale flipping through more books again.

I wanted to hug him. He had his own issues to deal with. He didn't need to be worrying about mine. Though, maybe this gave him a focus from the impending doom he felt over his parasite problem. 

I plopped down next to him, "Thanks again for today."

He flashed up, noticing me for the first time. He shook his head, "Oh, it's quite alright."

I smiled, sympathetic, “Still. It's like the ultimate riddle."

A smirk slowly pulled on his face, "I do love riddles."

Shadowheart paused in front of us. "How's the research? Any idea what the hag will want in return for helping you?"

"Shadowheart," Gale chided. "Maybe we leave that particular for tomorrow's problems? Hm?"

She shrugged, "What? I'd be coming up with a list of possibilities and contingencies to barter. You're the scholar, what do you think she would ask of someone who can't do magic and isn't from Toril?"

Gale shook his head, "Not a clue. Do you have any ideas?"

Shadowheart eyed me, "How old are you?"

"Thirty six, why?"

"How long do humans live on your planet?" she asked.

I tilted back and forth as I considered, "On average between seventy and ninety years, why?"

She looked around camp, thinking, "You're still in childbearing years. But..."

Gale watched her nervously.

I waited for her to finish.

"Never mind. That wouldn't make sense." She focused on Gale, "Does she know about us? The tadpoles?"

He nodded. 

"Okay, then forget I ever said anything. My original idea wouldn't be viable. Have a good night." She turned to head out, then eyed the red tent next door, twirling to us again, but taking a squat to speak quieter. "Have you noticed Astarion acting strangely since meeting that hunter?"

Gale glanced at Astarion's tent, "I wasn't paying enough attention, so no. I've been a little distracted."

"I only thought his interaction with the guy was odd. But, I haven't really been paying much attention since Ethel's either," I added.

She hummed. "Well, something's up, I'm just not sure what. I don't know if it was the vampire thing or the Gur thing, but he seems bothered."

We nodded as she stood up and continued to walk through camp.

Just then, Wyll popped out of his tent, calling out to the rest of us, "Everyone, I've got something for you, just in case." In his arms were a stack of what looked like wooden tent stakes.

We all headed over to his tent. "These are wooden stakes. Keep them on you at all times. Hopefully, the spawn isn't in the swamp, but you never know. We are an easy target, especially if any of us wanders off. We can do watch shifts tonight. I'll take first, anyone want to take second?"

"I can take second, Wyll," Astarion said, taking one of Wyll's weapons.

Shadowheart watched him, then turned and took a stake from Wyll.

"Perfect. Hopefully we don't need to use any of them," Wyll added. 

"Thank you, Wyll, for being so well prepared and generous," Astarion purred.

"You're welcome," Wyll smiled. 

We all took a stake and saw it as a sign to call it a night.

I don't know if it was my insomnia or just a need to relieve myself, but I had to get out of my tent. I pulled back the flaps, but didn't see anyone at the campfire. Whether Wyll or Astarion, one of them must have been doing something to keep themselves awake or they were off to the toilet too. I was a bit groggy and may have missed them at their tents.

I stepped around mine and picked my way through the foggy wood, peeking back to make sure I could still see the fire so I didn't go too far. I could make out some smoke from the treehouse chimney a little ways off. I wasn't too far from either. I picked a semi-secluded spot and dropped trow.

I missed toilets and toilet paper. I missed my large sweatshirts and comfy sweatpants. I missed my bed.

I shook my hips a little and wiped with a small rag to get any last drips of piss and blood off myself before pulling up the camp pants I found in my bag from Lia. There was a blouse I thought of putting on, but the night was so muggy, I opted for the corset, leaving it a little loose. It wasn't uncomfortable, surprisingly. 

I peeked back at our campfire, then over at the chimney. The night was clear, even if some fog hung among the trees. If anything went wrong, Ethel, my companions, and Gandrel would hear my shouts and come to help. As I tied my pants closed, stuffing the rag in my pocket, I decided to take a walk. I really need to clear my head. My anxiety was still rampaging through my body, keeping me from deep sleep. 

I headed toward the treehouse. Maybe Ethel was still awake and I could toss around some ideas for payment, or even just have some tea. Though, I doubted it. Older women usually went to sleep early. Maybe it was the same for old hags.

As I made my way, I thought about what Shadowheart had asked. Why would being childbearing age matter? And why would having the tadpole be an issue in bargaining with the hag? I couldn't believe I was even trying to make a deal with one; that hags were even real.

Wild magic, elves, vampires, goblins, tieflings, hell itself, dragons, all of it was real. It felt like a fever dream. It felt like I had fallen down a well and woken up in a wonderland.

Wyll had a patron who gave him powers. Shadowheart served a dark god. Durge was part dragon who breathed lightning. Lae’zel was from an asteroid. Gale owned a cat that could talk, do magic, and had wings. He and his collegues knew about opening portals. For god sake, Ethel had admitted to knowing how to open portals to different locations on Toril.

Where the hell was I? What the hell did I have to offer these people? The only interesting thing I had to my name was my confusing ability to dampen magic and a new weapon. What use was I in a world that ran on magic? Entire religions and technology here were powered by it.

Speaking of religions, a new one was evolving and my new companions were supposed to be a big part of it. What were the chances of that? Something was brewing here and I had crash landed into it. How much longer before I turned into a burden? How much longer before they didn’t need me? Did they even ever need me?

I didn't hear him.

I didn't see him.

When people talk about being attacked by animals in the woods, most would attest to feeling some sort of innate feeling of being watched or they would have seen it coming, doing what they could to get away. There were no warnings, no feelings, no time to flee.

I looked up at the front porch of the treehouse pondering if I should knock on the doorway.

Then I was on the moss floor.

Air was forced out of my lungs on impact. A strong body held me to the ground. A leg pinned my right thigh, as an arm wrapped around my head, pulling it off the side, the other staying my right arm. Pain like I had never felt speared into the crux between my neck and right shoulder.

And I screamed.

Through my cries, I felt the bite deepen. They sucked hard on my skin through their teeth. My head spun. My shoulder and neck throbbed. My heart skipped in my chest while my breath failed. I felt warmth spread over my shoulder, leaking a bit down toward the back of my neck. I was going to die.

All of a sudden, my mind began to clear past the some of the pain. It was as if a switch clicked and my survival brain snapped on. I couldn't see their head, but I swung my left arm over and gripped hair, ripping it back. 

The thing screeched as it released my shoulder with a suction, giving me an opening. 

I pulled up my left knee to where I hoped was a crotch and nailed home. The thing threw itself back, rolling off of me quickly, as it screeched louder. I clamored to my feet and threw myself forward, tripping from the dizziness that doused me. 

I ran for home. 

I ran for the light. 

Stars sparked in my vision. I needed to get help soon or I was going to pass out. I skidded into the campsite, overshooting my tent. I winced at the acute shoulder pain.

I realized I had made an error.

I spun, hoping to any god out there that the thing was still writhing on the ground and I could get to the stake. 

No gods were listening.

A blur took me to ground once more from my left side. I landed on my back, face to face with Astarion.

All fight melted out of me. It was over. Terror had rendered me useless.

I thought of Sylas, of the man I saw in his eyes, the one I would never know. I thought of my parents and siblings who would never find out what happened. I thought of the future I wanted. I thought of Brian. I should have been screaming in fear. Instead, I was stone. I felt the dawning acceptance of fate. 

No more running.

No more pain.

No more grief.

No more fear.

There was nothing I could do anymore. He was the wolf and I, the deer. This was the cycle of life. To kill or be killed. To fight to live or die trying. 

In that moment with Astarion above me, every detail was carved into recesses of my mind. In the short moments, my life slowed as I watched him ready to kill me.

He was terrifying. I didn't realize he could get any paler, yet he looked like death itself. His peeled back lips held a light hint of purple as they pulled over teeth covered in the red of my blood. The same blood was smeared across his chin. His canines were two inch long spears protruding from his upper jaw. His eyes were dilated irises blown wide enough to look like twin solar eclipses. Nothing behind them but pure hunger.

He was a manifestation of need. He was a nightmare. He was the vampire spawn. 

I was never going to be able to stop him with either of my weapons. I was too slow, too untrained, too naive to the realities of the threats of this world. Too human.

I could only hope Sylas would find a way home. 

As those fangs dove to reconnect with my flesh, a rippling wave soared over me, knocking Astarion several feet away. 

I turned to see Gale and Durge descend on him. The other companions charged out of their tents, weapons in hand. Durge held his red blade to Astarion's throat while Gale cast a spell hog tying his hands and feet together. He pulled him up by the back of his blouse and onto his knees. His eyes were still wild, teeth bared as he glared up at Gale and Durge. 

I let my head fall back as my body began to shake involuntarily. 

I was alive.

A body skidded next to me: Shadowheart. She tipped my head up forcing a healing potion into my mouth, begging me to swallow, or so I assumed, as I realized I couldn't understand her. I had forgotten my enchanted necklace in my tent. 

I tried to tell her. It seemed she understood as my words probably came out as gibberish. She tossed the empty bottle, running for my tent. I felt a warmth and a tickle at my neck as the healing potion began to work through my body. I sat up as she handed me the pouch. 

"Thank you," I whispered. 

She nodded and jogged over to Astarion and the others. 

I instinctually reached for my new wound, my fingers slicking with my blood. I wiped them on my pants then pushed myself, slowly, to standing. I was surprised to see Wyll and Lae'zel with arms out ready to catch me if I fell. 

"Would you like us to deal with the spawn?" she asked.

Wyll was examining my bloody shoulder and bite marks. "Shadowheart, can you come here a moment?"

She jogged back. "What is it?"

He nodded toward my neck. "It's not going away."

She stood in front of me, then walked around to look at the wound from the back. "Odd. It's closed, but the marks are still swollen. Usually, it heals pretty quickly." She faced me again, "Let me see your hand."

I held up the hand that had been sliced only the day before.

"Interesting. The mark is still there like an old scar," she said staring at it oddly.

Gale called to us, "Did the healing potion not work?"

Shadowheart turned to him, "It did, but it doesn't heal completely. It leaves a scar."

I cleared my throat, "I'm going to be marked forever?"

She just stood watching me. Then she sighed, "Maybe if we get you a superior healing potion it will remove them. Don't worry too much now."

It was an automatic reaction, I couldn't even connect a coherent thought to it. I began shaking again.

Understanding flashed behind her eyes, "You're in shock." She ran back into my tent, bringing a blanket to wrap around me and a bottle of water. 

"Do you want to go back to bed?" Wyll asked.

I watched as Astarion turned to finally look at me, panting. I just stood watching him for a minute. 

"Untie me!" he screamed whipping his head between Durge and Gale. "Oh, gods, I'm going to be sick. Untie me, Wizard!"

They stood just watching, doing nothing. I stepped forward as he gasped small breaths, then yelped, folding over in pain. "What is..." He looked over at me, pure fear in his eyes. 

We all watched him in confusion. Was this supposed to be happening?

He heaved, then vomited, twice. Two giant stomach fulls of blood and tonight's dinner now covering his front and the ground. 

Gasps and questions sounded around me. Evidently, this was unusual. We all gathered around the spawn as he dry heaved again, followed by a cry of pain, his body curling in on itself as much as it could while tied up. 

He was panting heavily. Staring up at us with wild eyes, the red returned. His forehead dotted with sweat, silver curls sticking to it.

His gaze snapped to mine as I stood in front of him and the mess of my blood.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" he growled. 

All the others faded to the background as my mind centered on him. 

Those words clanged around in my head setting off all the triggers I thought I had dismantled. Anger and rage began to burn like a furnace within me. 

Why was I always the problem? It didn't matter if I was taking in the groceries and the bag snapped, dropping our glass jars onto the tile floors. It didn't matter that I had thought I was making a silly joke, it was disrespect. It didn't matter that I had shared my heart and hurt with a friend, it made him look bad. It didn't matter he forgot my doctor's appointment, I should have cancelled it since he made plans for himself.

It didn't matter if I was the one who was being hunted, something was wrong with my blood. 

I couldn't fight back. I couldn't show him how I really felt. I couldn't be truly angry. I had to keep it together. I had to regulate, even if he never did and would never try.

But, he was supposed to be dead. Yet, his words echoed before me. 

An unfamiliar face mocked me with his voice, his words. 

I was always the problem. If he thought me so much the problem, then I would finally show him how much of a problem I could be.

I turned and pulled the stake from Wyll, my blanket sliding from my shoulders as the glass bottle hit the ground.

I turned back to him. Finally tied up.

In a position of weakness.

I would finally get to fight back. 

His face turned to a snarl, "Go ahead. Kill me. I know you want to."

My heart and head focused like a knife's edge. It was only he and I, now. I flipped the stake in my hands, sharp end down. 

"I would kill you, but you're already dead." 

A crack. A grunt. A gasp of surprise. His eyes shimmering spheres, wide in shock as the blunt end of the stake made contact with his temple and cheekbone. I hit him again.

And again. 

No one to stop me. 

No one to take it out on me. 

His blood mixed with mine on his face. His eyes empty. 

In a position of weakness. 

I was now the monster who would haunt his dreams. I pulled back again.

I heard my companions’ shocked gasps, but my mind was so sharpened on my target, they didn't mean anything to me anymore. They were background noise. I snapped forward, but a strong, cold, bony hand held my wrist.

"No more."

Something like cold water washed over my consciousness. I turned to the face of the undead priest who had promised to see me again soon. He had interesting timing. 

"I shant revive any of thou compatriots if thou art slain at one another's hands. Though, if thou art slain by sword or mishap while on your way, I will revive thee, for a price."

Gale huffed, then under his breath, "Can anything come without strings attached for once?"

"Ah, a new one. I know thy face and it has been recorded."

Gale watched him confused. "Do you know him?" he asked me.

It took me a moment to adjust my focus. I nodded, "He was in the large sarcophagus in the tomb Sylas opened."

"And when were you planning on telling us?" Shadowheart added from my other side.

I shrugged. "We had bigger problems. I forgot."

I heard Astarion cough and spit at my feet. He was glaring up at me now, but the fire in his eyes was small, the emptiness a wall within him. I knew the look too well, but didn't pity him.

"What do we call you?" Wyll inquired.

"Whatever you wish," he replied, releasing my wrist.

Astarion snorted, the sound wet. He said something in a different language.

"I am the Withered, you are correct."

"Withers it is, then," Gale stated, exasperated. "Alright, so if we kill each other, you won't revive us, but if we are slain in battle or fall off a cliff, you will do so. For a price."

"Correct."

I snapped my head around at the group just accepting his promises to bring us back from the dead as if he were telling them the rules of a new game to play. Today was getting more and more nuts. I needed to sleep. My neck and shoulder burned. I hadn't even registered the pain as I swung down on Astarion over and over with my right arm.

His face was swelling and beginning to bruise. 

Gale noticed us staring at each other, catching my attention. "Well, I guess Astarion's fate is up to you. You can stake him or you can banish him, or you can, well, those are my suggestions."

I watched Astarion's shoulders slump, head wringing with the same acceptance I felt beneath him. He fully expected to die. 

I turned to Durge. He was watching Astarion with a look of disappointment, not anger. I thought about all the odd times I caught their conversations. How quick he had denied the vampire bites at the boar.

"Durge, how long have you known?" I asked.

Surprise met my eyes as he opened his mouth, unable to reply. We all waited. Astarion tipped his head back to look up at Durge, eyes daring him to tell the truth. Durge quickly glanced down at him then at me again, "Since the shipwreck."

"I knew it!" Shadowheart cried. 

"Are you kidding me?" Wyll complained. "I have been pointing out to you all the indicators and you dismissed me."

Gale looked way, staying quiet. 

"Gale?" I started. "Did you know?"

Guilt stared back at me.

"You promised you had it under control," Durge yelled at Astarion.

"I do!" he panted. "I did," he confessed quieter. His head drooped again.

I pushed the heels of my hands against my eyelids, stars alighting behind them. The dizziness of blood loss was returning. This was madness. I was just attacked and my companions knew the whole time we had a threat at camp, and no one tried to teach me to defend myself. I yelled. It echoed out of the chasm in my heart and through the trees.

How long had Astarion been waiting for this? How many of those threatening stares I thought were jealousy were actually him contemplating my death? My camp mates were just children holding the leash of a wolf. 

"I can't do this. I need..." I flashed around at the faces watching me, my heartbeat irregular again.

"Go to sleep," Lae'zel demanded.  

I didn't object. I just nodded and turned away from the group and headed straight for my tent.

"Wait, what of me?" Astarion's voice cracked.

I turned around to the face full of fear. "Like I said. You're already dead. No need to kill you again." 

He collapsed onto the ground, I suspected in relief, but I didn't stick around to find out.

Astarion POV -

My whole body felt like it had been set aflame. My veins burned beneath the skin as I collapsed onto the dirt before the fire. I heard the others head back to their tents one by one.

I could hear Wyll sharpening a stake in his tent. I could hear Shadowheart popping the cork of a wine bottle. I heard Lae'zel adjust her sword closer before settling in her bedroll. I heard Durge toss and turn as he fell back to sleep. I even heard Withers saunter off into the fog.

I could hear her quiet sobbing. 

Gale sat on the log next to me, taking the rest my shift of watch.

Time slipped past, as always, tied up and lying in my own mess. It wasn't the first time. It wouldn't be the last. They would likely hand me over to the Gur when the sun rose, then I would be back in the thrall and torment of Cazador. 

I spit again, thinking of him. My head throbbed and cuts burned from Abigail's strong hits. I was almost proud of her. If I hadn't been the target of her rage, it would have been even better than watching her deck the druid. There was a deep well of violence within her. I would know. Had I noticed it sooner, I could have cultivated it for my own uses.

Pathetic little boy. Impulsive. Impudent. Thoughtless imbecile. A pretty face with an empty skull.

She should have killed me. Maybe, she would have had I kept my mouth shut. I could never do it before, unless I was forced. I swore I would never be forced again as I soaked in those first rays off the Nautiloid. I swore too soon.

I swallowed the tears threatening to break free. There was no use in crying. Crying was for those who had lost something. I gave it up.

She wasn't supposed to break free. She was supposed to die on the ground. I gave up my only mark and lost control. 

Now, I would lose all control, forever. 

I swallowed my dry throat again. Gods, I needed a drink. I eyed the blood puddled beneath my face. I turned and licked it. Damn the wizard, I didn't care. 

My stomach lurched. 

"Are you truly that needy? Have you not drank enough blood already?" Gale taunted, swigging back a bottle of water. 

My whole body screamed. I needed that water. My tongue felt like sand in my mouth. 

"Give me that," I demanded.

His brows bunched, "What?"

"Give me the water," I said again.

He held the bottle up examining it oddly. "Water? I thought vampires couldn't drink water? Or rather it was useless."

"I'm parched, wizard. Something is wrong with her blood. It's making me..." The revelation of my current state dawned like the sun. "I'm thirsty."

The disdain for me made way for his own curiosity. "You're thirsty?" He watched me a moment before pulling me back to my knees. His eyes narrowed, "If I release your feet, so you can sit properly, will you run? Because if you run, I will put you in hold for the rest of the night."

I shook my head, watching him back, "I promise to be a good boy."

He rolled his eyes, but he was good on his word and freed my feet. A sigh escaped me. He pulled on my arm to sit me next to him. 

He sat there waiting for something.

"Are you truly going to feed me by hand?" I couldn't believe he was really considering this. 

"By Mystra, Astarion, you tried to kill one of us tonight. Why in the hells would I trust you right now?" 

My shoulders slumped. "Fine. Try not to miss my mouth."

"Also, you're covered in blood and vomit. You reek. You probably need a good dousing." He held up the bottle to my mouth and tipped it as I tipped back. Cool liquid flooded and I swallowed. It wasn't enough. My mouth was still too dry.

I needed more, so much more. It was as if my two hundred years without had finally caught up to me. I needed to be near drowning in water. 

"Are you just going to sit there or are you going to give me more, wizard?" I demanded.

He examined me with confusion and some kind of academic interest. "You... When was the last time you fed? And I mean from a person."

My jaw tightened. I could lie to him. It would be better if he feared me. It would be better than my honesty being met with apathy. But, I would be handed over come morning, either way. What did I have to lose that I hadn't already?

I huffed, "I've never..."

I watched his incredulity as he finished my confession in his head. "Never?"

I shook my head, turning to absently watch the fire, "She was my first."

"Barely, I take it. By the amount of blood you left on her and the ground." He covered his mouth with his spare hand, stifling a laugh. 

"What's so funny?" I spit.

"Just that... You might be the worst vampire ever. As in, not a good one. Vampires are supposed to be apex predators in the dark."

I glared at him, "Your point?"

He chuckled, "My point is that, maybe, you're not the threat we think you are." He hummed, turning to the fire, "We all have our burdens."

I watched him as his mind was lost on something he didn't seem intent on sharing. He turned back to face me after a moment, "Alright, I'll give you the chance to earn my trust."

I felt the tie at my wrists snap. He held out the water. "Here, drink it."

I gripped it from him and chugged the whole thing. 

"This can't be normal."

I wiped across my mouth. Blood staining my shirt sleeve. I handed the bottle back to Gale, "It's not. Something's wrong. I'm craving water and food. I've been a vampire spawn for centuries and all I've ever craved is blood."

Gale hopped up and trotted toward his tent, turning back momentarily, "Wait there, please. I'm going to get something to put on to cook." He was back with a few more water bottles, prepping the food and pots a few minutes later. 

I sat with my hands in my lap. "You don't have to do this for me, you know."

"To be transparent, I'm not sympathetic to whatever you're experiencing, but I do have academic interest. When I get the food cooked, expect a few questions. I've never had an opportunity to speak with a vampire or spawn directly. So, this will be a chance to learn and record some new findings. At the very least, for myself."

I smirked. Of course it was academic, but at least I had an opportunity to present my case. Maybe, I could convince him to let me stay. Lean into his 'worst vampire ever' estimations. 

I uncorked another water bottle, tossing it back until it was empty. 

We sat and cooked in relative silence until I heard Durge stir and come to join us. I kept my face blank, but I couldn't stop the feeling of regret. I had messed up on two fronts tonight. Hopefully, I could at least recover one. 

"What are you making, Gale?" Durge asked the wizard while watching me.

"I'm just tossing around some spare rabbit and potatoes... for Astarion."

Durge flashed to me. "Why?"

"I'm... hungry."

"Don't you need blood for that?" he asked flatly.

"I..." 

Gale finished for me, "Something is odd with Abigail's blood. It has awakened natural cravings. He has chugged nearly all of my water bottles."

Durge tipped his head curiously, "So, you want food and water? Are you... alive?"

All thought came to a screeching halt. 

Alive. 

Could it be possible? I glanced over at the puddles of blood and vomit. Two hundred years of craving life itself. Were the gods finally listening? Kidnapped by mind flayers who implanted me with a parasite that would let me walk in the sun, only to end up traveling with the one thinking creature in all the realms whose blood held the cure to vampirism. It was too much of a coincidence. But, stuff like that didn't happen in reality. It was for exaggerated narratives of the heroes of old. 

It couldn't be, could it?

Gale held out a bowl of rabbit and potatoes with a fork. I filled the utensil and took the bite.

As it hit my tongue, the flavor overtook me. It wasn't anything elaborate, but it was delicious. Normal food had lost most of its flavor to time. Eating it was more for show at this point. But this, it was gamey and salty. It was greasy and thick. I shoveled the bowl like it was my first meal in days. First meal in two hundred years. 

I held out the bowl, ready for more. 

Gale's brows rose on his face. "As you wish." He piled my bowl high. "Just try not to get sick. Those who have been starving tend to throw up food if they eat too much too quickly."

"Shut up, wizard," I barked as I stuffed more into my hollow cheeks.

He rolled his eyes and I shut mine, sighing. I would dream of this meal for years. My fork hit the empty bottom too soon. I downed another half bottle of water. My waistband tightened at the light bloating. I could feel the weight of the food and drink in my stomach. I was full. 

I handed back the bowl. A feeling of contentment and satisfaction sat in my gut for the first time in centuries. I smiled to myself. I knew my companions were watching me carefully. I looked at Gale, "Thank you, this was a gift."

He nodded. "My turn now. You said she was your first?"

I nodded. Durge continued to watch me, warily. "I've never been permitted to drink from thinking creatures. I wasn't sure I was even able to do so, until tonight. Though, I guess this may not be a great test of that. But, I couldn't even try before."

He nodded. A journal and quill appearing from thin air. "So, as current knowledge stands, you are at the whims of your master."

"My old master. Whatever happened on the Nautiloid, I'm not controlled by him out here. I've been conveniently lost."

"Right. But, back in the city, you would be."

"Possibly, but I'm not entirely sure."

He tapped a finger to his lips, "How long have you been a spawn?"

I glanced at Durge who was still watching me, "Two hundred years. For two hundred years I was forced to eat rats and bugs or be subjected to torture and forced to torture others."

Gale paused, setting the quill down. "I..." A face of sympathy met mine, "I think I will pick up our questions another time."

"I didn't take you for one to scare so easily," I teased, though I was glad he had decided to stop.

"Your teasing is simply a facade for your own pain. One of these days that facade will rip apart and you will be left naked. But, I won't be the one to strip you."

I didn't know what to say to that. I just turned to the fire, taking another drink of water. 

I heard the wizard stand, "I think I'll turn in for the night. We can discuss whether you can stay with the others in the morning. But, if you are missing by then, I won't try to come find you."

I nodded, listening to the retreating steps. 

"Do you think it's permanent?" asked Durge, quietly.

"The hunger?"

He nodded.

I shook my head. "Nothing good ever is."

He stood, "You should face her tomorrow. She deserves that. Even if you have to leave. I'll do my best to make sure you don't end up with Gandrel."

I hadn't even mentioned the hunter. "Thank you, I'll consider it."

He turned away slightly, then paused, looking back to me, "Also, if you do start to need blood again. All you have to do is ask."

Our eyes met over the flames. I had offered him a proverbial hand not too long ago. This must be him returning the favor. I would need blood to keep up soon. "I'll consider it," I replied. He nodded and headed back to his tent. 

I sat watching the flames. I picked up the fork and licked it, a little of the grease coating my tongue. A weight dropped in my pelvis. Another instinct of the living awoke in me. 

I had to piss. Now.

I ran to the edge of camp, pulling down on my pants as quickly as I could, letting myself out. I leaned up against the tree as relief flooded me and the dirt. Another function I hadn't experienced in two hundred years.

One I didn't particularly miss as I held myself in my hand, shaking it a little to get the final drips off. What was happening to me?

She had brought me back to life, at the cost of immense pain. Something inherent in me knew this was too good to be true and was likely to be short lived, but it was incredible, nonetheless. I slumped against the tree, still exposed, as my eyes caught the puddle of her blood next to the fire. 

She had been so delicate in my arms. Her skin, soft. Her brown hair smelled like dinner. Her blood tasted...

I huffed as I felt myself expand in my palm. I rubbed the tip as I watched the flames reflected in her blood. I shut my eyes. 

The image of her standing over me, blood cascading down her breasts and corset, filled my mind. The bite marks, my marks on her, still swollen. Bruises beginning to purple the graceful lines of her neck. 

I pumped my hand down my shaft. A slow roll, tip to base, building a steady rhythm as I focused on her. 

Her eyes held her anger as she unlaced the strands, pulling back the stays to reveal her blood cover breasts, spare drips rolling down to her bare stomach. 

I sighed as my hand pulled tighter, twisting slightly, pumping harder. 

She stepped out of her dirt stained pants, exposing the drips of blood running from her cunt down her soft thighs. She stepped toward me, settling onto her knees in the pools of her own blood. I could smell it, but not strong enough. I needed more of it.

I opened my eyes and scrambled to the blood puddles at the fire. I dipped my hands, falling down against one of the logs. I listened for any stirring from the tents. I was met with silence and soft snoring. I watched myself as I ran my blood drenched hands up and down my shaft. I grew harder. My balls tighter. I tipped my head back, relishing in the heady scent of blood. 

The scent of life itself. It was cool against my skin, but it was wet and thick. Divine. I pumped harder returning to the earlier rhythm. 

I closed my eyes, the image of her before me once more, covered in her own blood. Her slender hands on me, smothered in her blood as she pushed one up and over my tip again and again.

I gasped. I clamped my mouth shut. I stopped my breathing and focused. 

One of her hands on my shaft, the other in my hair. Her bloody hand dragging along the edges of my ear. Her lips on my neck. My head leaning in and licking the wounds I made. The metallic tang my tongue. Both of us sucking on the marks of the other. 

I was so close. I hadn't felt this much need, hunger, and greed for anything is so long. 

Anything for myself was stripped from me. I was the one taken, not the one who took. I was the one forced to my knees or over a table, never the true receiver. I was thing to be used. An instrument to be played. 

No one would pull my strings any longer. I would fill every need, hunger, and desire. I would never be denied. I would use and take and win. 

I flipped her over in my mind as I flipped over in reality. Her face lying in the puddle of her own. The same blood on display dripping from her cunt. A meal before me. I slammed myself home, deep within her over and over. My needs fulfilled, my desire not found wonting. 

She would beg. She would need. She would bleed for me. 

I bit down on my own wrist as I leaned against the log, my own need shooting onto the ground and into my blood covered hand. 

The echoes of my orgasm rolled through me as I stared at the white glob in my palm.

Tonight was full of surprises. It wasn't as if I hadn't orgasmed in two hundred years. But, never in two hundred years had I ejaculated. Orgasming without true release was painful, but all I felt, leaning over with my ass exposed to any companion who might find me in my own humiliation, was relief. I squished the cum in my bloodied palm, it turning pink as I stared in amazement.

Maybe, I was coming alive after all.

[Astarion note: I should write erotica for a living.]

IRL Author Note: I KNOW THIS IS EARLY BUT WHEW THIS WAS FUN TO WRITE. I can't do 2 a week regularly, but I couldn't wait on this one. The next few chapters are gonna be a doozy. It'll be like falling down the spider pit into the Underdark. I apologize to my characters in advance.

[the-s1lly-corner]

hey, may i request hcs of laughing jack + slenderman x nonbinary, afab!reader who gets misgendered/bullied a lot but is too scared to correct/stand up to ppl? happens to me a lot :[

laughing jack and slenderman x afab!nonbinary!reader

im so so sorry you keep getting treated like dookie- as a fellow afab nb i totally get your pain with the misgendering, people just need to hush up

notes: reader is afab and nonbinary, established relationships, both canon characters have limited knowledge of lgbt topics but thats mostly because they hardly interact with people or media

cws: transphobia, canon typical violence, mentions of stalking

laughing jack

doesnt get to interact with many people much, so hes a little limited on his knowledge- and given that he originally started existing in the Victorian era? hoo boy- hes not transphobic or otherwise lgbtphobic but there is some ignorance

can see himself as using some labels once he gets more educated on it, though! always headcanoned laughing jack to be gnc!

tries to help you appear more androgynous or masculine if thats what you want! he doesnt mind playing dress up with you, and hes definitely going to take it as a moment to turn it into a game and try to cheer you up!

openly mocks the people who bully you, as well as outright saying that theyre just a bunch of jerks who... dont deserve nice things to head their way.. to keep the description vague

similar to slenderman, hes going to go out and get some vengeance if things get ugly enough

he doesnt like going out without you, hes a bit clingy.. but the sight of you being so distraught really makes his insides coil like snakes.. does not like it at all

even tries to push for you to carry him around in his box so he can just jump and slash anyone who says anything- though thats not a very good idea... would give him away quickly

slenderman

he doesnt understand much about gender, and honestly? i can easily see him being agender, or maybe gender apathetic simply due to him not showing interest in his own identity. he rarely wants to be perceived anyway

despite not knowing much about it and not caring how others see him, he can understand just a little bit on why it matters to you- especially when youre seen as something youre not and harassed for it

rest assured that if he ever finds out someone is harassing you, he will silent them quickly. out right offing them or stalking them over a period of time, the result will end in you having one less person on your back... then two.. then three.. and so on

actually the fact that people seem to either go missing or skip town not long after messing with you makes many keep their mouths shut- and before you even think that might prompt someone to harm you under the guise that its YOU doing it, slenderman isnt going to let that happen

he listens to you if you need to talk about your feelings on it, hes unsure of how to verbally help you affirm your gender identity but if you outright ask him how he views you; he tells you that you pass in his eyes regardless of if you present more femininely, masculine, or androgynously.. though that may be because of his aforementioned limited knowledge on the topic... hes supportive nonetheless!

[quantomeno]

I always feel mildly bemused when I read people post about stuff like systemic sexism in fandoms, particularly things like about how people complain more about female characters but ignore male characters with similar faults, or the fandoms loving gay ships but not making as much fanworks for lesbian ones.

Part of this is just because I like female characters (despite being male, I tend to prefer things with female leads etc) and I'm not that involved in a lot of fandom arguments nor do I read a lot of shipfics, so I only hear about a lot of the sexism when people complain about it. Which is kind of funny to me in the fact it must exist, but I'm just conveniently shielded from it.

The other reason is some of my earliest fandoms I got involved in were female-majority casts, so most people do ship the women. Like, I think Equestria Daily once put out an apology after they posted a Braeburn m/m fic (admittedly, the outrage from the bronies back then in 2012 or whenever was probably out of homophobia, which isn't nice either, but the point still stands that they were no issues with w/w shipfics and to this day they are the vast, vast majority of shipping fics (mostly because once you've shipped Braeburn, Sorin' and Big Mac together there aren't that many other guys left to ship, but nonetheless)). Or like Barbie with its vastly superior chemistry between the joint female leads over the threadbare male love interest they've thrown in. Even when the male leads are good, it's popular to ship the girls.

I don't think I have anything substantial to say. I just don't understand the issues other men (or indeed women) have with female characters (and women and femininity in general) (I mean I do understand I just find it bizarre it when like a friend of mine once said he wasn't really interested in stories with female leads. I don't know, maybe read more books with better female protags? I have a bookshelf's worth if you want suggestions) (also like when people suggest there needs to be more talk about good female characters like, most of my favourites are already females and I will gladly talk about them till the cows come home). But also that's just me.

Also I kind of do like m/m ships a fraction more but that's like 90% because I'm bi and so, you know, I like seeing guys together because I kind of would like to get together with a guy if the opportunity arose. But I mean other than that they're just ships. Like sure there can be a different vibe or flavour to w/w or m/m or straight ships, but I mean if they're good characters why should my interest depend on their genders? I read things to experience the lives of others, I don't want to just see stories that match my experience. And sometimes I empathise most with the female characters so like, you need to approach characters with an open mind. I don't know.

OK I'm rambling now. I think I made my point. I'm not sure what it was anymore but I guess it's that women in fiction are cool and I don't know what everyone else's problem is.

[chairteeth]

Fun fact, Nemu is a sadist

So you see Papa I know I’m gonna need screenshots for this one but HEAR ME OUT. I have actual arguments for this. There’s gonna be a lot of screenshots though, because I feel like in this case it’s a bit more overt once you look at it through this lens. This isn’t so much an essay as something similar to that time I went on a short rant about how Touka acts like a cat but here you go.

Editing Note: The Ao3 version of this essay is superior, I recommend it more than the post.

I’m gonna be very blunt. Nemu is a sadist. An extremely picky sadist that goes from mild to borderline disturbing, but a sadist nonetheless. Girlie has hella concerning moments. There’s the part about enjoying seeing people in pain, yes, particularly pain caused by her (directly or indirectly), but it’s more complex than that. It’s relishing one’s power over others. It’s enjoying when others are humiliated. Enjoying putting people in messed up positions and situations, watching or forcing them to hurt themselves or their loved ones, Sisyphean tasks, etc. There’s pretty terrifying potential to what she would be capable of if encouraged, considering her extensive historical and literary knowledge (looking at you, Madness of Hercules Shizuka. If you know you know).

As for the reasons, well, it makes sense with her background and as a coping mechanism, a way to vent. Sadism most often originates from feeling powerless in daily life, general powerlessness/lack of power even over the self, and repressed anger/frustration, so it tracks with what we know about Nemu. And yes, this happens since childhood. I’m gonna explain my arguments for the intense ‘Nemu is a sadist’ interpretation I have, don’t you worry, and there will be screenshots galore for once!

Let’s start with the mildest stuff. Which is actually Touka-related. Nemu really enjoys getting a reaction out of Touka, mainly earlier in their relationship (when she wasn’t Irreversibly Whipped)—though bits of it remain. This manifests in all of the teasing and the purposeful “humiliation” through things like games (the card game scene comes to mind). It’s easy too, because Touka is so extremely reactive. Here’s a very old example of this much milder manifestation, the card game scene in question:

Touka then starts crying (you can see the tears) because she’d mapped out the entire game and memorized Nemu’s cards and Nemu truly had no reason to pull this move. Leading to this response from Nemu:

Going to another side of things, the funny (/s) humiliation uwasa should not be overlooked. I know I haven’t posted my document where I hyperoveranalyze what each and every one of Nemu’s uwasa means (because it is incredibly disturbing in this raw form), HOWEVER, the Rumor of the Cemetery Banquet Feast is just one of multiple rumors that adds to this specific topic. And also uh the Fashion Monster. There are many, many things that I can gleam from the latter existing in the first place, but it’s described as:

“A Rumor that appears before confident, dressed up girls. It drags its victims into an alley, and if the Rumor isn’t told it looks stylish, it will strip off the victim’s clothes.”

Thank you Nemu, thank you so much. I don’t think I have to say anything for you to see why this applies to the sadist thing. As for the Rumor of the Cemetery Banquet Feast:

“My, have you heard? Who’d you hear it from? The Cemetery Banquet, and the rumor thereof! Fated rivals, arguing friends– if you want everyone to get along, then this Rumor is for you! Anyone who reads its invitation will be guided to the pre-banquet proving grounds. If– and only if– you can make the banquet lively, then you pass! And you’ll be invited up to Paradise, complete with kindly parting words. But if you plan to participate, you’d better take great care! If you fall short of proving yourself, you’ll literally fall into the underworld, to boot. It’s a rumor that ALL of the temple’s supporters are talking about. C’mon now, let’s liven things up!”

And the way the event goes is… Well. 

The Rumor greets its “attendees” in a kind, heavenly voice, casually “forgives” (brushes off) their attempts to break its rules, and gives gentle encouragement (plus painfully-gentle critique) as they resort to performing various party tricks to satisfy it. Once they satisfy the Rumor by setting aside both their pride and their mutual animosities, it escorts them to the top of its pagoda in a giant, golden hand… where they literally pass on to the afterlife.

Thank you Nemu, thank you so much. I think you see where I’m coming from here. As for some of the other things I mentioned at the start, well, there’s this part of Arc 1 Chapter 8:

She truly does speak in the cultiest possible way. Her dialogue is far more cult leader-like than Alina's or Touka's. There's also this part:

Doesn’t she look quite pleased… These are pretty much one after another. But okay fine, here’s a couple from Chapter 9:

Really. Really look at this through the sadism lens. She also giggles while telling the others that they’ve reached their limit right after Kanagi and especially Tsuruno expresses feeling sick and heavy and in pain. Which… is a worse reaction than Touka’s, that’s for sure. What’s fascinating is that in her MGS, Nemu seems to care the most about the Feathers.

As for my final example, I’m just gonna leave a bunch of screenshots from Uwasa Tsuruno’s MGS here. Pay attention to the way Nemu speaks to Tsuruno and the words she chooses to use (it'd be a lot more obvious if Nemu was older than Tsuruno probably):

So in closing. Nemu Hiiragi is a sadist. Funny venting mechanism you’ve got right there, I sure hope it won’t lead to anything more questionable than you’ve already done. Good luck with your wife, Touka, have fun.

[crusherthedoctor]

📞 a character others dislike but you don’t?

♠️ favorite protagonist?

🕷️a character you feel is underrated?

📞 - a character others dislike but you don't?

Elise has gained more appreciation over time, but you still get people who think she's to blame for everything wrong with '06. She was a decent if underdeveloped character who simply wasn't used in the story that well, and anyone who thinks turning her into a Not-Sally is the only way to fix her isn't trying.

There's also Zor and Marine, both of whom I will always defend. Isn't it wild how I can barely remember anything from The End's three minute tough guy Reddit copypasta, yet everything Zor says is solid gold... shout out to IDW for missing the point and making him an unironic tryhard like every other villain in the comic. As for Marine, people act as though her character development never happened, which isn't helped by Flynn being one of those very people, and I don't understand why they give her flak for her stereotypical accent, yet make no such complaints about Bunnie.

For a couple of non-Sonic examples: King Sombra kind of went through the same arc as Elise in retrospect. As in, nowadays he has more open fans, but back when he made his debut, he received a disproportionate amount of flak for being a mostly silent villain, and the way he was used. I personally appreciated what they were going for with him, mainly cause of how they conveyed his Crazy Prepared defenses and the like, and honestly, by the time FiM concluded, I think he ended up better off than certain other villains lmao.

And of course, Moneybags. Not counting the first game (cause he didn't exist yet), I don't consider it a true Spyro experience if Winnie the Shit doesn't pop up in increasingly improbable locations to make deals in exchange for, *ahem*, a small fee. He also has some of the best lines. ("What are you going to do, sue me?")

♠️ - favourite protagonist?

Gex is unironically a better written character than everyone in Frontiers and IDW put together. This realisation makes me want to drink tap water at Jerry Garcia's.

Tails has always been my main bro out of the Sonic good guys, cause of how smart he is and how much he wants to help. :D It's also why I'm vocal about how much I despise it when fans double down on reducing the franchise to Just Furry DBZ due to super forms and whatnot, since it means Tails and other characters not named Sonic/Shadow/Silver are guaranteed to be treated even more like they're not good for anything meaningful. >:|

Then there's Spyro of course, which I know will be considered ironic to some given my complex feelings on Sonic, but truth be told, Spyro isn't really that similar to Sonic beyond some snark. He does admittedly act like a dude with tude in the first game, but it's clear that he's younger in that one. From the second game onward, where he's slightly older, he's considerably more chill... at least compared to Bubsy and many others from the 90's. And speaking of, despite his dialogue consisting entirely of WOAH, I respect Crash as well, since it was the bandicoot that got little me into the world of video games.

And many things change, but my fondness for Fluttershy will never die. Just as I have a preference for funny robot-loving villains who nonetheless remain a legit serious threat instead of being a joke, I have another preference for kindhearted quiet characters... which is why I also enjoy Trip... and Tikal... look, we all have our types, I'm sure you can sympathise. ;P

🕷️ - a character you feel is underrated?

The Hard-Boiled Heavies have mostly been pushed aside since Mania came out (aside from that one IDW story, but that's not a blessing), and it makes me madder than YouTubers who pretend they're mad because there are villains with dialogue who have less personality than these guys. They're so much fun, and despite all of them having the same Egg Robo template, their designs remain distinct from each other, even in silhouette form.

I also took to Ariem early on. Like the Heavies, "underrated" refers to general lack of fandom buzz compared to other characters, since although she appears to be quite liked, the acknowledgement given to her is somewhat limited due to her being stuck in an Android-only game for the time being. Some people also have an obsession with comparing her unfavourably to either Sage or Lanolin, for reasons I can probably guess in both cases. Me? I love her design, and her interactions with Cream and Knuckles are cute. :> I know it's not likely, but I hope she appears elsewhere so that she can be brought to more fans' attention... provided she doesn't get IDW'd.

Finally, a more complicated example: Metal Sonic. Now yes, he's very popular and beloved, and remains so to this day, but during the last couple of years, I feel I've been seeing two growing sides in the community when it pertains to him: the side who loves Neo Metal Sonic, and believe he's only a threat in that form like Flynn apparently believes (given how he often turns regular Metal into a jobber), and the side who consider him lame or essentially worthless because of his minimal characterization compared to others. He might not say much, and he might be a hedgehog-shaped tool of Eggman's ambition rather than a complete person of his own, but I believe there's a lot you can do with Metal that wouldn't require turning him into Usurper the Elf Shoes. OVA Metal ain't S-tier for nothing.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #317

After writing last night's letter to you, I was very disgruntled to discover a deer tick on my left arm, near my elbow.

I dunno if it's the same in your world, but in my world, it's very important, especially if you live in the Northeastern United States, to thoroughly check your body for ticks anytime you go walking in nature. The ticks in my part of the world carry nasty diseases, and one of the nastiest ones they carry is Lyme disease, which is carried exclusively by deer ticks; I think I covered it in a previous letter.

I quickly pulled it off of me (albeit while crankily muttering a few choice expletives like "twatwaffle, "cockgoblin", "dickbasket", and "buttmonkey", but still!!). Like in the last letter in which I wrote about ticks, it wasn't on me for long enough to get a chance to feed, so the odds of me getting infected are relatively slim. Still, the bite is circled with permanent marker, and I'll keep an eye on it and on how my body is feeling generally for the next several days.

I went to bed a little later than I should have last night. And then I woke up a little earlier than I should have, after that. Nonetheless, I somehow felt pretty good, I guess? Which is surprising, considering how angry my legs were after last night's walk. I made an epic sandwich out of roast beef, salami, colby-jack cheese, onions, pickles, and mayo:

I also made a jasmine green tea for the first time in a while to go with it; the swirls were particularly tasty-looking today:

...And here was the resulting plate of noms; want some...?

...For whatever reason, today I decided to start a batch of bone broth. I've had a bunch of bones and a bunch of veggie scraps just sitting in my freezer for a while now. Today, I had energy. So today, I decided to make use of them:

This is a mixture of pork, beef, and chicken bones. Scrumptious, no?

But you can't just have bones for a good broth; you gotta have veggie bits, too:

...I like to add even more things after that:

...It's a combination of various teas, both herbal and non-herbal. There's juniper berries, and rosebuds, and dried mulberries and everything.

I even added some dried stinging nettle; it's bad to touch it, but it's very nutritious when steeped in hot water...

...I topped it off with a branch of mugwort, given to me by... shucks... someone who... decided they don't wanna come around anymore...

...I miss them. But they have to do what is best for them, I suppose...

...

Anyway, to this, you add an acid - just a splash will do. This helps to break down the bones and the veggies and the teas and herbs so that all those juicy nutrients can seep deliciously into the water! I usually like to use apple cider vinegar; it's good stuff!!

...From there, we fill our pot with water, pop a lid on it, and let it simmer for somewhere between 36 and 48 hours:

...It'll be ready in a few days.

It's basically like brewing potions in a cauldron, hahaha! Already, my house smells amazing. Suppose there's no better day than today for doing this sort of thing! Today is Halloween. I suppose in some ways, it's kind of like Pumpkin Fest in your world, except the history is different. There's no Dark Army coming to get us, because we don't have flesh-and-blood magical creatures in my world.

That said, a long time ago, it was common for a bunch of people called pagans and druids and stuff to believe in and honor nature spirits, and spirits of the dead, and other similar stuff. Nowadays, unfortunately, there aren't as many pagans or druids anymore as there otherwise might have been (because of our horrifying history). Still, the existence of non-corporeal magical entities is hotly debated in some circles (with most people believing that they don't exist).

...I think the reality we live in is too weird and fantastical to discount the possibility of the existence of non-corporeal creatures. But if they exist, it's not stuff I can see with my normal senses or measure with currently-existing instruments, and I'm hesitant to play around with things that I don't understand.

Anyways, the Celtic peoples commonly celebrated a holiday called Samhain (pronounced "sah-ween", because the Gaelic languages use Roman letters differently than English does, which is totally cool!); on this day, it's believed that the veil between the corporeal world and the non-corporeal world is very thin, and so people, in an effort to honor and appease the spirits on the other side of the veil (so that they don't become hostile!), went from door to door, saying words in exchange for little treats.

...And then early Christians showed up, and they REALLY DID NOT LIKE people who didn't practice Christianity. And so they forcibly morphed this pagan holiday into something else - now known as Halloween, or All Hallow's Eve, and a couple other variants. Halloween has a number of the same elements as Samhain, except... whitewashed and censored to appease delicate Christian sensibilities.

...It's fucking lame. Though I know that not all Christians nowadays are horrible colonizers who are willing to beat, torture, and commit genocide on others for the sake of cultural homogeneity (a non-trivial number of them still absolutely cannot tolerate the existence of other cultures...), but... the early ones absolutely were horrible colonizers who went around to other places, forcing people to abandon their own cultures and beliefs or else face gruesome punishment, while also stealing their resources and exploiting them however they possibly fucking could, and insisting that they were somehow "lesser" to justify their continued exploitation, and... just...

...The history is bloody and horrifying. To give you an idea of how it goes... nowadays, this is our "fun" caricature of a "witch"; I'll leave a link to a picture; I didn't draw this:

...This is cute unless you know the history of witch trials. I'll give you a VERY oversimplified summary of the history...

A long time ago, early Christians got so scared of anyone that didn't share their beliefs that they decided that everyone else was some kind of devil-worshiper that needed to be eradicated in a variety of brutal and vicious ways. And there was a "witch hunt" craze that went along with that. And also Crusades and Inquisitions... but those are outside of the scope of today's letter. And also they're just as (if not more) fucking horrible and depressing as this other shit I'm about to tell ya.

In any case, "witches" were people who were thought to practice any kind of magic, and Christians in those days were very afraid of them. Even some Christians now are still VERY afraid of "witches"; a non-trivial number of them believe that "witches" get their "power" from demons or the devil or whatever.

In the days of witch hunts, women held an even lower position in society than they do now, and so they were the most common target. If a woman turns down your sexual advances? Accuse her of being a witch to get revenge. If you're tired of your wife? Accuse her of being a witch to get rid of her. If a woman is a little too good at her choice of occupation and it pisses you off? Accuse her of being a witch to make her stop existing. There were LOTS of excuses in those days. So lots of women who were healers, or who made ale, or who were reasonably good with animals, or even if she was more skilled than a man at any task ever... well... you get the idea.

So the accused woman would be snatched up and taken to a place where she'd be beaten and broken until she "confessed" to being a witch. And if you don't wanna know the details about this, you should probably skip the rest of this paragraph, because they put these women through unspeakable torture to get these "confessions". They'd break fingers and hands, pull out nails and hair, break teeth, break ribs, break the face, and worse - you name it, and it was probably done. Hell, they probably did things even more vile than anything you can think of. And sometimes they'd do this for days on end. It was pretty fucking bad, and that is a huge fucking understatement.

...By that point, the woman would "confess" to just about anything, in order to get the torture to stop. And so... she'd come out, bound to something, and she'd be paraded around the village with a crooked, broken nose, broken, crooked teeth, a swollen face, gnarled hands, ratty-looking hair, a hunched-over posture, skin black and green and blue and red and discolored from all the fucking bruises...

...Look at the "cute" picture up there again. Description fits, doesn't it? This is our "witch". This is how the modern imagery of one came about in my world. The modern imagery is the end result of the endured torture. From there, the freshly-convicted "witch" would be hanged, burned, drowned, have rocks thrown at them until they die, or some other similarly horrifying method of "disposal".

...Great thing to dress up as while going door-to-door to get candy. </sarcasm>

...

...Still, beautiful, 80-degree Fahrenheit (27.7-degree Celsius) weather we're having for the kiddos to gather candy in while dressed in costumes...

(It's supposed to be 50 degrees F (10 degrees C) at most, this time of year. 😳😳😳)

...We bought candy just on the off-chance that we'd get a few kiddos stopping at our door; our Homeowners Association generally discourages any kind of walking or trick-or-treating (because they're a bunch of crotchety old geezers who hate children and have nothing better to do than be angry and uptight about innocuous things), but we did get like 2 trick-or-treaters, so that was kinda neat.

...I guess I'm glad that they'll be able to be comfortable in their costumes outside without getting cold and needing to cover up their costume by putting on a jacket halfway through...

(THIS ISN'T NORMAL.)

...

...Sephiroth... I... I think of the state of my world, and I think of the color of my skin, and I think of the way my ancestors were to the rest of the world (the way a non-trivial number of people with my skin color STILL ARE to the rest of the world!), and... I kind of resent the history that led up to my creation. That's because this horrifying history is the root cause of a lot of what's wrong with my world. It's complicated and messy and... it's not something I have the power to change on a mass scale.

...I know that I can't change what the people of the past did. I know that I did not consent to being born into a system that assigns unfair and arbitrary disadvantages to people who don't look like me. I know that all I can do, with what little power I have, is to advocate for change.

But... though my skin is pale (seriously, why in fuck do we fight over melanin??? of all the stupid, useless, asinine shit to fight over... for fuck's sake...), I was still assigned female at birth, and this comes with a lot of drawbacks that shouldn't exist (because apparently we gotta fight over who's got what kind of genitalia, too); my voice doesn't carry a whole lot of weight in this place.

...All I can do is keep writing, and keep trying to treat people kindly so that maybe someday all this weird nonsensical fighting and bloodshed will stop. I don't know what else to do, so I'll keep trying to do my part to make things a little better, even if I don't always know exactly what that is; I don't want anyone to have to suffer.

(...really, I just wanna get the hell out of here and go to a place with all different kinds of people, and still none of them are fighting; instead we're all just hanging out and making pretty things and eating tasty snacks and doing fun stuff together...)

For now, I suppose I'll just vote, and hope that bad things don't happen...

Anyhoot. I should probably get going; I was looking forward to watching more Trinity Blood with a friend today; maybe watching the character that reminds me of you will help put my frazzled brain at ease.

I love you. And I'll write again tomorrow, okay? So please stay safe out there.

Your friend, Lumine

[ninthprime]

post where i just talk about what im palisade shipping. because im bored.

bucci real. i like to think about how gucci ended up in this deep. how lonely are you that the fish who you know used to scam you and did war crimes is the one you’re falling in love with!! why are you having romantic thoughts about being great heroes and saving everyone with them!! brnine likes gucci of course but i truly don’t think they realized how deep it was until that pre-sun convo. and its like oh gucci is in deep with me. well i’m not gonna process that in my brain because i can’t connect to my own emotions. it’s toxic they’re not good for each other but its ok. care for each other anyway.

brnine/jesset is real too you know it is. but i also think that’s jesset occasionally wanting to make out with them and brnine would probably agree but is not processing it and is just thinking Jesset’s my best friend! ok brnine.

this does mean gucci/brnine/jesset is real i think. bucesset. as it has been dubbed. usually i dont think its romantic with gucci and jesset but it’s. A Relationship. what if we mind melded once and hated each other and what if we were currently each other’s ally on the terrorism council nonetheless and what if we were both in love with a pathetic war criminal. i want them to freak out about brnine being on the pact ship together. i want them to both be a little fucked up about how they nearly just had to give themselves up to the bilats. i want jesset to make gucci promise to not fail brnine like they both did valence.

you all know gurbalence is the forever ot3…for years i have thought of them every day…you know we will get it. ali is already providing us a steady stream of balence. and you KNOW we will get gurlence. you know dre and austin will make that happen. you know gur and brnine are going to have to exist around each other via figure proxy. and it will be awkward and bad. but they are associated forever by grief :) do you think brnine has opinions on the gur puppet. hey if they try to free gur do you think someone will have to make him another body. hey do you think brnine has thought about how they have the notes and tapes that are valence and gur’s legacy recently

i think figure/gur (figur) (you know we have to call it figur) could be real but i need to see it. i KNOW how much a dre pc loves a npc romance. but it could also be so bad for them in the wrong circumstances…them being tied together ties them to clem in many ways still…they have such similar hurts. it is probably not great to finally gain freedom and then have a spider bound to you. but also i think they could understand each other. figure will definitely project on them a little as is their habit. i have to see the flirty quotient…well sometimes gur is just naturally like that.

i did mention this recently in replies but secretly though the figure ship i have been thinking about a lot this season is figure/thisbe. honestly it may be my largest ship this season. but i have been nervous to talk about it because the best thing about thisbe is that she does not see things the way others see them so it is a hard sell while still true to her character. but im not seeing things right. they like to rush into action together. figure wanted to know if she was being treated well and seems to have picked up on how she sees the world differently and will defer to her judgement. thisbe made a clock just for getting them away from clem and prioritized it for multiple missions. they are like a plant to her and now they have plants growing from them!! i think figure will be very grateful and may try to make it up to her and it will be cute and funny. this is thisbe’s weird little crewmate and she is going to hook them up to the blue channel irrigation system and provide them beneficial nutrients. this will be satisfying to her and they will feel very safe.

cori/elle real. they will kiss i think. what i need to see is for them to talk about devotion more. what made you realize you didn’t believe elle. what happened to you as a double agent. can what you know cut through cori’s pain. can it cut through her devotion. how can you share this with her without her punching you again. do you care enough about her to share this. i want to see it all on screen

my friends are much better than me than talking about arbitred the hot new ship but it’s real. sending someone a digital ham slurper is real. when you don’t have a candidate because that’s so demeaning but you work closely with a weird little cyborg girl that’s not romance you know that’s just putting someone under a microscope and thinking they’re entertaining. it’s not like you feel the nonhuman equivalent of a satisfied rush when she sends you an emoji and talks about how successful the two of you are at selling contracts together. simply an incredibly beneficial business transaction. you are sending her five more ham slurpers and watching her say npc dialogue about this.

this isnt a big ship yet but i want to see more of the crusade squad because i miss ignadiah and ramondre the swordbearer rivals. i think hets are allowed if they are constantly trying to destroy one another. they are so much fun to me.

[momomiooo]

Essay😛

I think a problem a lot of people have with CI (including myself) is how different she is compared to the likes of v4 and talk. There was an obvious aesthetic set up by Gynoid that Cevio didn’t exactly follow through with and the color scheme came off as strange to me so i shall describe my few problems in sorta depth

Twitter

VFlower used to be EXTREMELY active almost like a person on twitter. I got curious during a car ride home and saw cevio attempted it but it didn’t hold the same strength as flowers did. While many people don’t even follow Vflowers account or even go through her post it’s still clear people liked having vocaloids seem realistic, like they were like us. It gave her a bit more relatability that could make even newer fans amazed. While The trend of realistic tweets from vocaloids has died down (sadly) to see they’re at least trying gives me hope for flowers future endeavors! Some of the things CIflower lacks are things that V posted which could be seen as risky for the company (some old tweets consisting of flower trying to flirt with girls, swooning over randos and talking about big boobs[😭???]) it gave flower some spice no other vocaloid softwares DARED to do!

Her Design

ah yes, the initial problem, her design. As fore-mentioned Cevio didn’t go with the exact color palette/scheme as the last few models but I still think it was a great idea. It feels like we’re watching an emo girl grow into adult-hood, flower now appearing to be around 17-24! The only problem is her color scheme. While I love the idea it just doesn’t fit flower and I think to make it work they had to change flowers most notable features, her hair and eyes. Her eyes have gone from magenta or pink (depending on who drew her when) to blue. Her hair also changed, getting a similar color to ia’s, more blonde and pink than white. And while I could go on about the software companies hating while haired characters (maybe they don’t sell as much like piko idk) or how they need to learn their audience consist of neurodivergent gays afraid of change, I don’t have an explanation for this one. Surely I could search and find out something but I don’t know why flower took such a leap from her talk vb to ci. I understand you change as you grow blah blah blah but still how did she go from confidence and the only problem you see is her dropping her head phones in talk to “c-can you p-pass the ketchup m-mi-miss?” She looks so scared and nervous😭.

Her voice

holllyyyyy crap. I could take the model, “pink eyes are unrealistic anyways… maybe it’s just shading” but the difference from AI and hand done is just.. wow… on one hand maybe maturing caused a bit more feminine to come into her life but oh my flying Fukase. Dunno whoever’s reading this but that whole “learn their audience” was observing how me and other autistic people felt about the design😭😭😭 I hate change so when I heard the lower one’s eyes cover I almost had a panic attack. Where is the angrodgany??? Where’s the vflower??? I get they’re supposed to sound realistic but it just sounds feminine. Could just be the creature of habit thing but I personally prefer her older voice banks just because of the power and emotion I feel from her voice. Some covers make her sound real, like she’s struggled just like us. So far the songs with CI in them sound… well.. AI. Advanced AI, sure, but ai nonetheless.

summary-ish

if you hate this woman now because of the design, take a deep breath and remember…

YOU CAN HEADCANON ANYTHING!!!!!

Re-make flower, nothing is canon other than existence, and even those boundaries are tested by creative people! Have fun making a flower that represents YOU. It’s a voice with a name and that’s all that matters. Self project on the plant and give her a life you’d like! Still don’t think she’s a girl? PRONOUN IT UP! Flower is just a singing software package, have fun making her what you want to see while supporting others:D

Have a good day I am done yammering

[asherlockstudy]

On Rhett’s tattoo and deconstruction update

To the Rhett!tattoo Anon, I had not forgotten my promise to write about it but I intentionally waited for his deconstruction update because it was clear those two would be correlated and together provide more information. Besides, Rhett sort of explained the symbolism behind the tattoo pretty thoroughly and honestly.

The update episode confirmed what has always been clear and even more emphasized by the new tattoo; Rhett has always remained spiritual. I would take it a notch further and consider that he also remains religious in the sense that he actively seeks for a religion, dogma or belief that appears solid enough for him to believe in. In any case, it was a joy to listen to him. We are in a very similar place regarding spirituality, even though the way we landed there couldn’t be more different.

The tattoo is a reminder of where he’s been and where he is going. It has this Judaic / Biblical interpretation of the world as well as heaven and hell, things he factually knows are wrong. He reminds to himself that he started from a wrong place. However, where heaven is supposed to be is the little open door 👀 The little door can take so many meanings but ultimately, like he implied, it is the realisation that all those years of his youth, even when he was wrong, all the circumstances led to his life as it is now, to the changes and choices he has done now. Most things in his life, including his family and his relationship with Link and its evolution to whatever it is now exist because of all this time he was being wrong. Rhett realised the irony that this very religious system he was part of led him to paths and situations and choices and feelings that it itself condemns and ostracises. That religious world opened to him a little door to the unknown, which Rhett implied very cautiously that it might be his own paradise or an opportunity to explore further the ultimate truth.

The deconstruction update was thus not surprising. It wasn’t the main core that I found intriguing (although all the content was interesting) but rather the small details, the hints. Here are some notes:

* Rhett explained how he realised after leaving the faith that he had not changed. He still wanted to love his wife, his kids, his friends. I watched this twice and to be totally honest the second time it didn’t seem to me as strong as the first but I will mention it nonetheless; Link was a little frozen when Rhett said this and responded with a weak “yes” specifically when Rhett said “the loving his friends” part. He remained pensive throughout, I almost thought he was fighting to not look bored or tired but at the same time there was something in his dead / droopy expression that made me feel like he was trying to not get emotional, sad.

* Rhett implied that he was the target of disbelief from his immediate circle when he decided to leave the faith, specifically saying that those close or relatively close people to him that are still Christians accused him that he did not leave the church for the intellectual reasons he has mentioned but for actually ulterior “selfish desires he had” and that “deep inside they always knew Rhett was never genuinely following the spirit of the doctrine, he never belonged”. Now, that’s heavy and prior to that I think Rhett had never made such implications, he only talked about his scepticism. It’s interesting that “some people” said this when at the same time Rhett explains how earnestly absorbed he was by the doctrine. It makes you wonder (not really) what it is those people saw in young Rhett that made them question that Rhett could be a “true Christian” at heart and what “selfish desires” they are talking about. This kind of unpleasant exchanges he may have had with close people could be after all what inspired the song “I think I am supposed to like this���.

* Rhett created a thorough analogy in order to explain his experience leaving the faith and what he encountered in and out of the church, which was not all that different. But the way he phrases everything in this analogy is interesting, including that he equates leaving the faith as “getting out of a house”. And be in the open and free. To accept and love others. And to seek the truth still but without his former conviction that he is the right one.

PS. Link said his deconstruction update will be shorter and that he has found the answer to all of Rhett’s concerns and it’s very easy. I am willing to bet that his answer is love, unconditional love and living in the moment. And that this is the only truth that matters, to him. Link hasn’t healed from the trauma he gradually realised the church left to him and he is still uncomfortable in these discussions.

[darkpoisonouslove]

For fic writer asks: 1, 3, 10, 15, 25, 26, 31, 45, 46, 49 :)

Thanks! :D

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?)

I'm thinking either Imitation Play or The Power of Peace. Both are pretty similar - have an excessive amount of worldbuilding details, dry humping at inopportune times with the bonus of unconventional magic being involved, internal struggle that is worked out through the kind-of-smut and leads to an altered sense of self, asshole!Valtor and a Griffin who probably enjoys asshole!Valtor a little too much than strictly advisable. I feel like those are all staples of my writing. Both are also conceptually strong if I do say so myself. Imitation Play might be a little more so, though. I had the title before I had even started writing the story and I think it's reflective of every aspect of the story.

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

Angst, hate-love, hate sex, porn with feelings, alternate universes, eye color symbolism, too many goddamn metaphors, moral dilemmas, long-term relationships, repressed feelings, impossible to repress feelings, love making things complicated and probably a whole lot of other things.

10. How do you decide what to write?

Lmaooo, I don't have any control whatsoever over this. It's not so much a decision as much as it is just going with the flow. I just ask myself "Do I feel like writing today?" And if I manage to answer that with a yes or at least a "no, but at least I can try it and maybe I'll put myself in the mood", then I start going through my recently touched projects. If none of those makes my brain go "That's the one!", then I try going through my notes to see what other ideas I have. Sometimes that whole process is unnecessary, though, because I get an idea for a WiP or for a new story and the inspiration from that idea carries me the rest of the way. I have learned not to try to force a WiP that doesn't want to cooperate with me because that just leaves me with negative feelings for the fic in question and makes returning to it that much harder.

15. What’s your favorite AU that you’ve written?

Evil. Evil, evil, evil question. Am I gonna have to go through all of them now?... Nah, it's Sparks of Life. Granted, the reworked version of Sparks of Life that only exists in my head so far but it is Sparks of Life nonetheless. I adore magic and fantasy but do you know what I adore even more? Modern day versions of fantasy characters. Sparks of Life was my first modern day AU for Winx, I believe (I'm too lazy to check) and that's probably why I fell in love with it so thoroughly. Well, that and the fact that the first part of it I wrote already had Griffin and Valtor being married. It doesn't really have a plot. It's just vibes and character interactions but that makes it comforting because as long as I stick to the overarching but very vague theme, I can just add parts to it however and whenever I please.

25. What other websites or resources do you use most often when you write?

Online thesaurus, online dictionaries, my dad's old Bulgarian-English and English-Bulgarian physical dictionaries, Google Translate for when I'm too lazy to pull out the physical dictionaries (but I will if Google Translate fails me (which is a not so rare occurrence), the OneLook Thesaurus and Reverse dictionary for when I remember what a word means but not what the word IS.

26. Would you rather write a fic that had no dialogue or one that was only dialogue?

I've actually written fics with no dialogue but those were short and inspired by songs and it was more of an inner monologue of the PoV characters. I would pick fic with only dialogue. I believe I could pull that off (depending on what you're trying to write, of course, but still).

31. What’s your ideal fic length to write?

Something that can be finished in one sitting, lol. But considering that lately my brain capacity is not what it used to be, finishing stories in one sitting isn't very realistic. I'm not particular about "ideal length". Based on the majority of my fics, my ideal length is 3-5k words. There are stories that require a lot more words if you want to do them justice, though. Long fic certainly has its many challenges but I always have something to add to a story so while I came up short when the actual writing is concerned, most of my ideas run pretty long.

45. What’s something you’ve improved on since you started writing fic?

The flow of the story. I used to rush through parts without even realizing I was doing it. I didn't have a good grasp on how a story is supposed to flow and would make jarring shifts in tone or plot points. I like to think I've gotten much better at avoiding those.

Another thing is character motivations. Looking at my earlier fics, I can see that the characters were doing what they were doing just because I wanted them to regardless of whether it made sense for them to do it from a logistical PoV or from PoV of their characterizations. I really think I'm starting to figure out how to keep their motivations consistent and believable.

46. Do you prefer writing on your phone or on a computer (or something else)? Do you think where you write affects the way you write?

Typing on my laptop is so much more comfortable and faster than typing on my phone but I would write a story draft on my phone in a pinch. The only difference between those is in the number of typos I make. It definitely increases when I'm typing up a story on my phone. Otherwise, I don't think the device influences the quality or layout of the work. Sometimes, though, I feel that I will go insane if I don't write my story on paper. It's just a feeling and I tend to always write my longest fics on my laptop but for short(ish) one-shots, I usually use a notebook for the first draft (the Griffin x Marion fic I'm working on I wrote on paper first but Imitation Play was written directly on my laptop). That decreases the number of typos usually.

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

As I mentioned above, I am currently working on this Griffin x Marion fic. I finished it the other day and the plan was to post it yesterday but pushing myself to write 2000 words in one day left me quite tired and I knew that last stretch I wrote would need a lot of editing so I decided to do what's best for the story. I am more than willing to share a snippet from the more polished parts though!

Figuring out Griffin’s play was the most crucial part of this visit to Cloud Tower. Oritel would have agreed, would have shown the same initiative in tailing the witch that Marion did. He would have been the only one who would have taken her intrigue with this perfect opportunity seriously.

Griffin’s stance on the politics around dark magic and the people who used it was clearly pronounced. It hadn’t taken Marion much effort at all to stir the conversation with her mother’s counselors to reveal the most scandalous information they’d heard about Griffin. All rumor, of course, but stemming from a solid foundation of the witch’s own making.

Her particle manipulation powers and her prowess with magic relating to all manner of heavenly bodies had raised more than concerns as soon as she’d altered the trajectory of the biggest meteor shower in the known universe.

The Dragon Scales rained harmlessly over the Magic Dimension riding the ripples of space currents believed to be the Great Dragon shivering and shedding her skin. Over thousands of years no scholars, scribes and astronomers had succeeded in deciphering the pattern behind the phenomenon.

Griffin had not only predicted it successfully this once, but also influenced its course. To the point where the meteors had blazed through the atmosphere of several planets leaving behind a fiery trail in the sky, small craters and hard rock on the ground, and not a shred of mysticism.

Griffin’s appointment as the newest addition to the Cloud Tower faculty had stirred unrest all over the Magic Dimension, all of its leaders left to ask what would happen if she decided to repeat her magic show but this time take it further. Marion suspected that had been the whole point of it – to make all the monarchs aware of the force they’d be facing if they decided to go against witchkind. The effect had rippled further, of course, other dark magic users who shared Griffin’s views witnessing it as well.

Learning who’d reached out to her would be of great use to Marion in light of her mother’s refusal to consider anyone else’s power but their own, given to them as a birthright. Even in the face of a magical show that would’ve exhausted Marion’s own powers to the point of inducing magic depletion syndrome for the next few days.

Instead of examining the pattern of odd and worrisome magic thefts all over the dimension the Queen of Domino had preferred to focus on Marion’s interest in Griffin and had set out to present it to anyone that noticed it as dutiful yet unfounded concern over state affairs, as overzealous protectiveness. She may as well have called it paranoia to Marion’s own face. In doing so she’d only left Marion one option – pursue it to the very end.

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