#it permanently altered my tiny brain

[chelsiegeorgia]

It's spooky month so I'm drawing my favourite ghosty 👻 👻 ❤️

[metiredlr]

THIS is the exact moment Endou rizzed them both up

[qprsmackdown]

propaganda (under the readmore):

BENCHTRIO PROPAGANDA:

My friend wrote a fanfiction detailing their platonic relationship from childhood friends to spouses. It is over 1 million words long. Pls he needs this

my good friend sunny wrote over 1million words of fanfiction about them that was so good it permanently altered my brain chemistry. also i think the feat of over 1mil words is worth the win (:

Ranboo and Tubbo are canonically married, semi-canonically platonically so. Tubbo and Tommy have known each other for years, and have an understanding of each other that no one else does. Tommy and Ranboo went through a very awkward and begrudging beginning of their friendship, but Ranboo would go on to make Tommy's grave when he died.

I want to start off by stressing that these 3 are characters and are not at all connected to the real world creators that portrayed them aside from having the same name.

c!Ranboo and c!Tubbo were canonically married, with the nature of their marriage being largely ambiguous and up for interpretation! They live together in a mansion with their adopted child, Michael, a tiny baby piglin! c!Tommy was never an official part of their marriage, but the three spent so much time together(before the series' writing took a very unfortunate turn due to behind the scenes stuff) that they might as well have been a qpr polycule! It is confirmed that c!Ranboo(an 8'5 foot tall enderman hybrid) can only look 2 people directly in the eyes with it being STRONGLY implied those 2 people were c!Tommy and c!Tubbo! Their relationship didn't get as much time as it needed due to the series's unfortunate downturn near the end, but while it was there, it was a very comforting, very tender relationship between 3 traumatized young queer teens who were their for one another through their journeys in healing from their various traumas. Also one time c!Tommy and c!Ranboo got high together in a tiny smoke box they made(they also met when Ranboo hit him on the head with a giant flower. An allium, to be specific!).

MAJORWOOD PROPAGANDA:

i went so insane about them they spawned inside my brain, guys ever

They are the Mean Gills and they are canonically qpr!! They would also canonically die for each other

Canon QPR! Confirmed by cc!Martyn :D (he confirmed it on stream after the series ended)

They're canonically a QPR guys!!!! Both the CC's who play the characters have said that they see them as being in a QPR!!!!!! literally the first time ever i've seen any media ever portray a qpr of some sort

someone in Martyn's chat explained what a QPR was and he said "oh that sounds like me and Scott"

[lavenderapollo]

more things from my production of hamlet that permanently altered my brain chemistry

getting to pick out my own costume, wearing an old peacoat that i eventually took with me to college

all of the tiny details of my costume that nobody but myself noticed

horatio wearing a tiny heart locket because of the whole “heart’s core” thing

horatio fiddling with the necklace while watching the play within a play, while watching the fencing match

our director cut the script to create a deeper relationship between horatio and gertrude while hamlet is away getting captured by pirates

the letter scene

hamlet and horatio reading hamlet’s letter in sync, except hamlet reads “horatio” alone in the beginning and horatio reading “hamlet” alone at the end of the letter

horatio going straight from the letter scene into a conversation with gertrude about ophelia’s health

horatio being in ophelia’s mad scenes, watching her break down and cry, assisting with her wheelchair

gertrude relying on horatio for the truth about hamlet’s whereabouts

horatio staying with gertrude as she dies, then attending to laertes, then finally, to hamlet

our director remind our hamlet to “die center!!!”

hearing the bows music for the first time (the other side by david gray)

wittenberg crew making each other friendship bracelets (r&g had matching “rosie” and “guildy” bracelets, ho&ham had bracelets that read “good night” and “sweet prince” respectively)

making myself a bracelet that said “L + horatio”

THE GRAVEDIGGER SCENE

wearing my peacoat in the final scene, then tearing it off to give to laertes as he’s dying

hamlet holding claudius’ head, forcing him to drink the poison, then finishing him off with a small little nick to the ear, giving claudius a taste of his own medicine

ophelia having one fleeting moment of clarity when she sees laertes, running to hug him

polonia taking an awkward family photo with her kids, chastising them for not smiling enough

(accidentally photobombing those photos during rehearsals)

i mentioned yorick hot potato in the last post, but i didn’t mention that i pulled out a bottle of hand sanitizer after tossing the skull away

the lighting, the set

having to carefully fumble my way offstage once the lights went down, the three times i almost tripped over a foil

and the one time where i actually did

after that they put glow tape on the stage

our set designer crafted an entirely original crest for the hamlet family, using nordic, danish, and even some tolkien characters for inspiration

seeing the set for the first time

our first time staging the death scene

there’s a photo of me in my lil spot by hamlet, surrounded by dead bodies and bathed in red light just kinda going like 😁👍👍

crushing the other teams at shakespeare trivia during our closing night cast party

[rin-and-jade]

In-Between Lines: A Post about Blurring, Blending & Fusing

We are like colors in a single palette, each with its own distinct vibrancy that our eyes can easily tell apart. Sometimes, when these colors touch, they create a faint overlap, making it difficult to distinguish where the red ends or when the blue is still truly blue upon contact,

Hopefully metaphor above explains how different colors may appear similar when mixed together, even though they are actually quite different depending on how one approaches the method. As how we will perceive today's topic similarly as.

Fast pass: TL;DR on bottom.

What are the difference, anyway..

It's definitely tough trying to grasp these definitions when we live our lives separated as parts, sometimes this topic may also appear mysterious as many don't talk on it.

Throw your worries away, as it is far from scary, or a bad thing to experience, nor it is impossible to understand, here's my breakdown on them, firstly:

Blur When the lines between distinct parts are reduced, though still walled up, it causes a partial leak of traits or behaviors from one part to another. Because this is the weakest level of penetration through the amnesia barriers, these qualities spill out incompletely. This makes it difficult to determine which traits belong to which part, or to identify who you feel closest to when experiencing blurring. An example would be putting on a gaussian blur filter to an object, the clear outline between the table and table is harder to separate, making it difficult to identify their exact details, though you can still vaguely recognize them.

Blend During blending, the barriers between parts are temporarily weakened, creating better transmission of traits and thoughts compared to blurring. From this, the overlaps between parts become more visible, making it easier to tell which traits belong to each part. In this state, they may be aware of the emotions and behaviors of other parts, while still able to distinguish it from their own qualities. Think of blending as an additional extension to your current personality state. An example would be applying a semi transparent image above an existing one, some overlaps fits with the main image, though the relevance or the elements from the second image is still be able to be told apart.

Fuse This is where the barriers completely dropped, where blending is the temporary and less complete form of it only, fusing is where you fully accept and be aware of the overlapping traits as your own. Since there's no more dissociation between the two parts, you will start to identify previously other's traits as yours. Fusing is a more stable and permanent state compared to blending. An example would be building a bigger version out of existing tiny lego creations. The block colors would mix, and the final outcome reflects what the smaller buildings looked like previously, the separated buildings were never gone or altered, but unified despite distinct, unlike how most think fusing feels like.

Why does it happen?

Honestly this topic by itself is complicated while i'd like to keep it as compact as possible. So here's the straight forward reasons why blur and blend can happen:

When you find yourself in a blur, it can be due to..

Stress - due to triggers or feelings that arises from other parts, which partially leaked and is affecting the overall mental state. This greatly varies, depending on the capacity to handle stress.

Exhaustion - due to not having enough energy to expend into distinguishing parts or gain clarity on what's going inside. For some they will blur more often when tired, while some will not be as frequent or never, depending on resilience.

Unfocused - confusion, or disorientation, means the brain cannot function normally to respond to internal or external cues, leaving gaps in details and attention. Other comorbids that affects attention and cognitive abilities will also heavily affect this.

Currently busy - due to how a demanding task requires your full attention, that being said, other functions are currently being upheld. This also depends on how much load a person can handle, some would be unaffected from it.

Fixing blurriness consists of various solutions, such as getting enough sleep or breaks, being in a less energy-demanding space, hydrating adequately, and proper nutrition. As blurriness can be caused by brain fog, it generally takes time to recover and function normally again.

The span of being blurry can vary for everyone, it can be short as for a few hours or days at best, or it can last months depending on your lifestyle and current life situation. Pay attention to what things can blur you, a pattern should bring insight.

When you find yourself to be in a blend, it can be due to..

Significant stress - stronger reactions to a situation cause other parts to bleed their behaviors. Different stress will cause different intensities on blurring.

Triggers - due to parts respond to something they resonate with, although not strong enough to switch, heavily influencing temporary behavior. Just like from stress, different triggers does the same.

Emotional charges - similar to triggers, but specifically with any negative or positive emotions, causing a sudden shift in thinking or feelings. The types of emotions and how intense will affect a blend, too.

Attempt to communicate - due to accidental integration when trying to be aware, connect/communicate, or understand others, as the qualities flow more than usual, creating an uncalled moment of blend.

Fixing blend would depend on situation. Generally if it is harmless, opt to wait it out until the lines of separation builds up again or alternatively, reclaim your clarity on what qualities or traits belong to you, and what belonged to the other to encourage severing a blend.

If it is due to harmful/difficult situations, it is much better to resolve or minimize the severity of the blend until you regain composure and process any emotional/thought bleeds that is causing a blend.

You missed the last one,

Ofcourse i won't forget about it, just that it is a very different aftermath compared to the previous ones.

What is fusing

Fusing is similar to blending, which is a temporary version, though this time you identify all of the qualities of the other parts more permanently and consistently as your own. The process to fusion can look like a seamless flow or can find it be more challenging to integrate. What it feels like

Unlike the circulating ideas of what fusing feels like, no parts are truly gone or have their highlighted traits disappeared. Consider it like mixing the colors blue and red to create a dominant purple hue. Although traces of blue and red can still be seen, the idea is that blue and red still exist closely enough that they are nearly indistinguishable, yet the essence of the pure colors is never gone.

An easier way to understand it is like emulsifying water and oil by shaking it. These two elements never create something entirely new but they are evenly dispersed, creating a tangible idea of integration.

You will start to like what the previous parts would've said, you will also be able to view and react to a situation in a more nuanced way as you had obtained another pov, and you will feel the more complex or sometimes opposing information that still can be true.

For example, A was a protective and cautious part towards people, and B was a compassionate and kind part due to its morals,, these two had constantly disagreed and fought over how the situation must be handled due to the inability to integrate the separate opinions/views. Now that they both fused, as C, upon meeting a new stranger, instead of A's natural instinct to fully avoid interaction, B's gentle demeanor thought that it would be rude. So C responds by approaching the stranger with curiosity, understanding that not all are evil, though still wary just in case for safety as A would, to prevent another negative experience.

What encourages a fuse

Working on trauma, which involves addressing and processing the compartmentalized and unprocessed emotional or mental damage of the past, encourages fusing. Since parts exist to hold and separate the pain, hiding the whole picture. To integrate is to fuse.

Working on triggers, uncovering repressed memories, processing unfinished business, healing unhealthy behaviors or mindsets, and establishing overall acceptance of your own parts will make the barriers for self protection become meaningless, creating an easier time to fuse and feel more whole, with better control between facets.

When you don't want to fuse

It's pretty valid, some are more comfortable being whole, while some would prefer being distinct yet fully functioning.

The alternative to this would be functional multiplicity, where the integration manifests differently as better internal communication, equal cooperation, sharing the same goal for the future, have healthy conflict resolutions between each other, respecting each part's boundaries, and lastly, able to be aware of other parts and their emotions.

Functional Multiplicity and Full Fusion are equally good, they are neither worser or better, as it heavily depends on the person's preference and comfort level.

Last notes

Remember, blurring, blending, and fusing never looks the same for everyone, everything written here are given purpose as insights on how it generally will look like.

What do you previously think fusing is like? Is it as you'd expect after reading it? Feel free to share your experiences related to this topic too, i'd love to hear them all! (though sorry, i don't think i can reply to everyone if so)

Feel free to let me know if you have questions, or need help in this topic! My DMs and askbox will still be available, although i also want to announce that i am taking 1-2 weeks of break before continuing again to enjoy my academic holiday.

(due to reason of how educative posts easily exceed 10 hours in process before release including interviewing, researching, and writing from start to end.. im tired)

TL;DR

Blurring, blending, and fusing are different levels of integration that can manifest in a system.

Blur: Partial leaks of traits between parts due to reduced but intact barriers. It’s the weakest form of integration, making it hard to identify distinct traits. Example: A Gaussian blur filter on an image, making objects hard to distinguish.

Blend: Temporary weakening of barriers, allowing more traits to flow between parts. Traits are more identifiable but still distinct. Example: A semi-transparent image overlay, showing both images' details.

Fuse: Permanent merging of parts, integrating all traits as one’s own. Traits from all parts are combined, creating a coherent personality. Example: Mixing colors to create a new hue while retaining traces of the original colors.

Reasons for Blurring & Blending:

Stress: Triggers cause partial leaks or stronger reactions.

Exhaustion: Lack of energy to distinguish parts.

Unfocused: Confusion or disorientation.

Busy: Demanding tasks take full attention.

Managing Blurring & Blending:

Blurring: Rest, reduce stress, stay hydrated, proper nutrition.

Blending: Wait for clarity, resolve stressful situations, reclaim individual traits.

Fusing:

Process: Working on trauma, triggers, repressed memories, and acceptance of all parts encourages fusing.

Outcome: Unified personality with integrated traits, retaining the essence of original parts.

Functional Multiplicity: Preferred by some, involves cooperation and communication between distinct parts without full integration, achieving similar functionality.

Remember, these processes vary greatly for each individual. Blurring, blending, and fusing can look different for everyone, and both full fusion and functional multiplicity are valid approaches depending on personal preference and comfort.

- j

[blindbatalex]

bruins hrpf recs from the server #5

Hello again! The theme for this week was ✨ a fic that broke your heart ✨ Below are our recs:

rec lists so far: || week 4 || week 3 || week 2 || week 1 ||

A (Little) Slice of Heaven by Anonymous || willypasta || 11,541 words || reccer's notes: this fic rewired my brain. I read it months and months and months ago and I have yet to recover. 11/10 I come back to it way more than I probably should

(and i’ve got a plane to catch) you drove me all the way back by @fvcking-damage || mcgryz || 2,862 words || reccer's notes: this is some self-indulgent mcgryz angst i wrote a couple of years ago, idk what i was writing out with this one but. yeah

and turns to dust by adjacently || Jordan Eberle/Taylor Hall || 2,130 words || reccer's notes: i can eat taylor hall angst for breakfast, lunch, and dinner

between your love and mine by @blindbatalex || willypasta || 6,360 words || reccer's notes: This is a story about trying to reconcile two sides of your identity that are at irreconcilable conflict with one another, and what having your wings clipped like that at a young age does to a person.  I certainly broke my own heart while writing it.

dancing by @rasksmoustache || marcheron || 1,111 words || reccer's notes: This fic is so vivid and visceral and sad, it permanently altered my brain chemistry.  Unrequited (but is it really?) marcheron which gets the feeling of loving someone and being just a little too late so so well

Done & Undone by @ghostgeno || marcheron || 14,428 words || reccer's notes: 2023 Game 7, the aftermath. Fair warning: I don’t reread this very often because of how effectively it puts you in Brad’s headspace immediately after the game, in brutal, excruciating detail. And yet. And yet. If you feel like being taken apart and then put back together, if you want to feel all the loss and tenderness and love that remains despite the loss, read this fic.

good at secrets by @fridgefishwrites || prefix boys; mcgryz || 4,017 words || reccer's notes: this fic meant (and means) so much to me because it just gets what trying to live your life and build something beautiful while faced with unrelenting homophobia is like.  I love the non-linear narrative and the prefix boys but it was always Matt who stole the show for me in this story

like a stranger by blindbatalex || marcheron || 13,142 words || reccer's notes: not a fic alex hasn't read before (sorry bud) but i'm Obsessed with fics where the characters talk past each other and the angst compounds and this fic is a perfect example of that, amongst other things!!!

make no apologies by @sphesphe || marcheron || 3,757 words || reccer's notes: Brad gets himself suspended before the Winter Classic and Patrice takes it harder than he thinks he should.  He plays it off as fine, things happen, just be better Marchy but it isn't true. He's angry. After the game, Brad stops by, they have a talk and lo and behold, feelings emerge! (And much more!)

Sixth Borough by bookhousegirl || Jimmy Hayes/Frank Vatrano || 3,067 words || reccer's notes: The third in a trilogy of fics featuring this pairing. This is a very quiet little vignette featuring two former Bruins who were not stars and did not end up experiencing great success in their time here. It exists entirely in the gray of adult complications and disappointments, and refuses any easy catharsis, and is beautiful for those reasons. For those of us who cared about the Bruins in the (relatively) dismal era between 2015-17 it may come across as a tiny time capsule; for everyone else, I hope the delicate way it honors the hopes and dreams of those who don’t become hometown heroes, who don’t get the happily everafter ending, stays with you.

Westward Expansion by bookhousegirl || Jimmy Hayes/Frank Vatrano || 3,625 words || reccer's notes: Jimmy stares out vacantly at the coaster climbing the track. “Just because we’re from the same place doesn’t mean we’re from the same place.” When Frank takes Jimmy to Six Flags, he expects it to be a fun day, showing Jimmy all the rides he used to love growing up. Jimmy is distracted though, melancholy because Frank has so much promise and Jimmy took so long to get to where he is.

Wolverine Feed by @sphesphe || swaymark || 10,659 words || reccer's notes: fic that makes me ill each and every time i think about it

[abiiors]

Ross Holding the reader's belly and when his hand softly grazes he feels the baby's first kick .

writing dad!ross is always so cute 🤭❤️

the first time ross feels his brain chemistry being permanently altered is on a lazy saturday afternoon. he's refused to let you clean the house (“i can do it by myself” and “i don't want you bending and exerting yourself”) but after much arguing and lowkey threatening on your part, he relents that you can hoover a bit around the living room just as long as you're comfortable doing it.

he's also in a slight mood, he's been in a mood for a bit because all the worries of impending fatherhood have just started to dawn on him. 

you've answered plenty of late-night "what if i'm a shit father" questions with the patience of a saint but every time you see the little crease between his brows, you know what's about to come. you turn the hoover off, walk up to him and hug him from behind. the bump is still relatively small so you want to savour this for as long as it lasts.

you know he needs to be sat down and firmly told at least once a day that he’s going to be a fantastic father and you’re quite happy to do that until he starts believing it himself so that’s exactly what you do. 

you sit him down and snuggle up to him. it’s second nature to him now to immediately place his hand on your bump.

“you’re overthinking,” you point out, stern but gentle. 

“mmm.”

yep, figures. you sigh, closing your eyes and resting your head on his shoulder while he absentmindedly caressed your bump. it’s gentle, it’s nice. unfortunately, you’re sure you can physically hear the wheels in his head turning.  

“but what if she hates me?” 

you raise an eyebrow at him—first at the fact that you don’t know the gender yet but he’s adamant that the baby is a she. 

“ross…” you take a deep breath, fully turning to him, and grab his face in your hands. almost a perfect mirror of the way he cradles your stomach. “love… she’s not going to hate you.”

“look at you,” you continue, rubbing soothing circles on his cheek with your thumb. “you’re already so perfect to me, to both of us. sure, you make me go crazy when you hover like that—”

“hey!” he protests but you place your thumb on his lip, effecting shushing him. 

“let me finish, love. you have been perfect since day one. helping me through morning sickness and late-night cravings. making sure i never feel like i’m going through this alone. and we still have almost half the pregnancy to go through. you’re going to be a proper dad in no time! you already are, sweetheart, don’t think i’ve forgotten all the horrible dad jokes you’ve cracked this week.”

that makes him smile—a wide smile, dimples and all. one that has your insides fluttering. and fluttering some more. weirdly enough, it lasts much longer than you’re used to, weirder still, ross abruptly stops rubbing your stomach, frowning in concentration. 

“is she—” he starts, only to be interrupted by what is unmistakably a tiny kick. 

“oh my god,” you press a hand to your mouth in astonishment, smiling the widest you ever have while your baby continues to move around. 

“oh my love…” ross sniffles, instantly getting teary-eyed and bending down to kiss your stomach, only for the flutters to move right where his lips are. 

your daughter already recognising her dad’s voice. 

“see, she loves you. she already recognises you!” you laugh, still giddy from the kicks and movement, still in complete awe. 

ross finally straightens, looking at you with a knowing smile. “so you agree,” his smile has gone all coy, “you think we’re having a girl too.”

you’re about to protest until you realise how you’ve been subconsciously referring to your baby as a she for some time now. without even realising it. and now that he has pointed it out, it’s glaringly obvious.

“i do,” you smile at him again, rubbing your stomach, the spot where you last felt her move. “hello, my darling,” you speak softly and get a flutter in response. “i adore you already.”

[hsonlyangel]

Hi friends💕 I haven’t been on this blog for over 4 years (!!) but in light of recent events, I didn’t know where else to turn.

I can’t emphasize what a key role One Direction played in shaping my teen years. My first exposure to fan fiction was with 1D fics and oh boy did that open up a can of worms. I still have a Pinterest board from 2012 with everything from cute pics of the boys to unhinged (borderline incoherent) imagines. In tenth grade, I bought school supplies with Liam’s face on it because I was a Liam girlie before Harry *gasp*. I saw This Is Us in theaters and the Teenage Dirtbag sequence permanently altered my brain chemistry (seriously, give it a rewatch). When the Best Song Ever music video came out, I tortured my little brother by playing it on loop. I sat in shocked silence in my sociology class as news broke of Zayn leaving the band. My college roommate indulged me as I lost my mind over the release of the carpool karaoke video. I’m approaching 30 now but all of these memories are *so* fresh in my mind.

Although I don’t listen to them as much as I did a decade ago, when I need a pick me up or dose of teenage nostalgia, I throw on 1D. On Wednesday, I needed some cheering up so I put on some of their music and it helped, as always. The last song I listened to was Love You Goodbye and then I planned to go about my errands as usual. About 15 minutes later, in the middle of a bookstore, I got a text from my mom saying Liam had passed away. It felt like the world stopped. Getting back in the car to drive home, 1D came back on the queue and grief hit me like a Mack truck. Less than an hour before, I had been happily singing along to their music and now Liam’s just…gone? It doesn’t feel real. None of my friends were ever Directioners so I don’t really have an outlet for this grief. Which brings me here.

I’m not on social media much anymore for my mental health, but I knew that Tumblr was one of the only places where I would feel seen and understood in the aftermath of this loss. I was caught off guard by the depths of my grief and I just can’t stop crying. I see deep cuts of the band in their early days and the throwbacks that used to make me laugh now make me weep. The songs that got me through some of the most difficult times in my life will never be experienced the same way. I couldn’t afford 1D tickets while they were touring but a tiny part of me was hoping one day I could see them on a reunion tour in honor of my inner teen. I keep vacillating between denial and devastation and the whole situation is still so surreal.

Even though it’s under heartbreaking circumstances, it’s been so validating and heartwarming to see members of this community coming back and reminiscing, being open about their grief, and supporting one another. It’s hard to describe how deeply this hurts to people outside of the Directioner bubble, but I know y’all get it. I don’t know how to begin processing this but I’m gonna try.

Sending so much love and strength to everyone affected by this. You are not alone❤️

[actuallyevilgay]

The Apathy (Part 2)

Astarion x Male Reader/Tav

DNI if you are a minor. Dead dove don’t eat. Please read my about before replying. Content: Astarion x Male tav, this is post epilogue.

Summary: Once Astarion learns from Withers Tav is somewhere in Neverwinter, he intends to find his lost love. We learn from Tav's perspective what he has been doing all this time. Reminders: Astarion is the vampire ascendant, Tav is not a heroic figure. Contains headcanons for several characters, contains headcanons for illithid brain alteration but not evolving. Tav uses daggers and magic. Astarion is an Arcane Trickster Rogue. I created several npcs. Some Neverwinter lore is mentioned. Content Warnings: Tav suffering from depression / ptsd, self-neglect. This part contains implied sexual attempted assault. A/N: The first part is here: link I had fun writing part 2. Angstttt..

The plan used to be, to make no plan... For Astarion- Strategy had not been on his mind for 200 years up until he gained a palace and a title. He used to be a magistrate, sure- however.. The laws changed. He was learning the ropes again. Manipulating a few political allies and gaining some influence was easy in his position. Baldur’s gate believed him to be a benevolent contributor to the repairs of the city. In the six months of his reign behind the curtains, the city’s damage from the mind flayer invasion was but a stain in the back of everyone’s memory. Unlike Cazador, Astarion did not depend on fear. He preferred enticing and seducing his targets, but not with his body. With promises, promises he could fulfil. If you play tyrant for too long, people will want you gone. If you pretend to be a saint, people become complacent. Happy, they want you around. They will keep your secrets, and reveal their secrets, to be wielded like daggers. Ready and willing for a stab in the back. But no one has dared to leverage his, Astarion was too useful. Despite Jaheira’s distaste for him, her and her harper's caution did not warrant a fight. Astarion was too interested in making sure the city was safe, not just for him but for all the people who became dependent on him. And thus, Jaheira kept her mouth shut, tolerating his very damned existence.

He had sired a fair few, hundreds spawn in that time, many of which were servants, others who became his eyes and ears. As the ascendant, his blessing was more subtle, safe for a few differences… Not all spawn would gain red eyes, and while the majority could tolerate the sun just fine, that gift would fade should they leave the near vicinity of the mansion. Others suffered light sensitivity in the eyes, requiring them to wear masks or glasses to hide their vampirism. The fangs, the paler skin was all there, they could easily hide their nature and live off air, water and bread, threading borders and wading through water. The sun remained a tiny problem for the most part, but not for Astarion himself.

The mansion acted as an anchor point of this connection, even if Astarion left for a while, his connection to this place and the ritual location connected him to all his spawn in the city. The longer he stayed, the larger a permanent safety net became. As a result his spawn eagerly bounced around the city without much worry. 

There were rules of course, they were not to talk about their nature. They could not feed off strangers unless it was to kill off a problem permanently, someone who would not be missed. The bodies would have to be disposed of.

If anything, it felt peaceful. Astarion had his ambitions of course, as an immortal he had time enough to pan out his plans to make sure it would outlive any of his predecessors, as well as foes and friends alike.

The high from which he fell, the very jump that had pushed Tav away made him wary of the newly gained instincts. Desires, the need to covet power.. He would not let it control him again. It was a tool to be used warily. All his abilities were great, but he was not a god.

If he could rise to his position, someone could rise to a position to annihilate him if he made himself a big enough nuisance.

A portion of his instincts raged against the idea of staying sated, it wanted to be full. Being sated kept him going, he had no need to cause suffering. Yet. Suffering should have a purpose, yes? To indulge in those habits could make one thread dangerous waters. He had enough of the idea of walking through acid, still remembering his torture deeply.

All this thinking made him lonely.

Astarion looked to his throne in silence, listening to the sound of his servants moving things around and preparing their tools. He was not going alone to Neverwinter, and he could not leave his position without a caretaker in place.

Jaheira was not aware of it, but one of her harpers was his spawn. A recruit by the name of Alice. Alice was a rather small Tiefling girl, soft spoken and highly intelligent.

She made a bow as Astarion turned to her. ‘’I will be leaving for an undisclosed amount of time, I take it that you will continue your role as we discussed?’’

Alice nodded in response. ‘’I will report any noteworthy news.’’ Satisfied, Astarion dismissed her quickly, only for the next few servants to walk in. He revelled in the respect he received, trying not to show off how much he enjoyed their devotion and loyalty.

Two of the new faces were his personal bodyguards, the only two people he’d be bringing. Who’s to say Neverwinter didn’t have plenty of fresh people to make use of? He certainly preferred travelling light.. And in disguise. Both of the bodyguards were high elves, fraternal twin brothers. One rarely spoke, the other was tricky. His personality changed depending on who he was speaking to, as he used to be a theatre actor before taking this job. Vandelion and Tyselius. Vand and Ty for short.

They greeted with a salute and bow, the last person to talk to was standing behind them, waiting her turn. Astarion gestured for them to step aside so he could speak to his Chamberlain.

‘’Saralyn dear.’’ Astarion smiled at her, even though she avoided his gaze. Previously a human, Saralyn was one of his first spawn. ‘’You will manage business while I am away, is there anything you need before my departure?’’ 

‘’Nothing of note m’lord, my only request is for a bodyguard.’’

‘’Oh? Are you concerned about your safety? That is new.’’ Astarion’s brows lifted in surprise.

‘’It is simply the first time I am left in my position without your guidance and protection. I want to be sure to do my job well without risks.’’ Her speaking revealed no ill intent, only honesty.

‘’Very well, assign whomever you please from the dormitory as your personal guard.’’

‘’Thank you, my lord..’’

Enough formalities. His patience was wearing thin. Everything was done, preparations were made. They were leaving. Now.

Off to wherever Tav was, Neverwinter. What would he be doing in such a rich city? Living off trade? Did he pick up a job? Why would he push away Gale’s attempts to reach him?

If only that answer was so simple.

….

Neverwinter was vast, Volo called it the most civilised city in all of faerûn. Markets, shops, anything you could think of was sold here, if it was legal of course. There were enough things about this place that made you wonder if it was crime free. It certainly wasn’t.

Despite the cosmopolitan paradise, riches were still divided. Even if nobles were taxed heavily to share the wealth across the place, any rich civilisation invited division regardless.

You roamed the streets, catching sight of snowflakes as one landed on your nose.

Cold. It’s going to get cold.

Your clothes were worn, to the average pedestrian you looked like a beggar. To someone more prejudiced and worried for their life; you looked like a thief, or trouble.

The guard was aware of you, but never saw you act out any crimes. You would sit in public areas, watching folk pass by, wandering aimlessly until you were out of sight.

Like many times before, you took your pick. Using strange psychic abilities to displace items into your pockets. You would never aim for the better trinkets, just little things.. Like misplaced gold coins, or rusty coppers. Gold they can miss, a necklace? Maybe. If it looked like a family heirloom, you certainly avoided it. So far no one has reported their losses.

You only took what could easily be traded for food. During the nights, you would find a place to sleep on the docks, below a bridge, or an abandoned market stall.

Why are you here? One might wonder. There was no answer for it. You simply were here. 

As you nodded off, the cold was getting to you. A voice called out to wake your anxious body jerk right up. ‘’You poor sod.’’ It was a wintershield watchman, one you’ve met before. Never talked to, though. But his face was plain enough to remember. Remember.

‘’It’s certainly not the time of the year for you to sleep outside. I can’t stand it.’’ The man complained, you looked at him dully, wondering when he would leave you be, so you could sleep.

‘’How about I treat you to a night at the inn? Hmm?’’ His tone changed, but you couldn’t place with intentions. Your neck hairs stood up with caution. ‘’What’s your bargain, guard? I doubt you’d offer something so freely.’’ The man smirked in response.

‘’I’ll tell you, but first.. How about a warm meal?’’

The tavern was pretty empty, small. One quick look would make one assume it was not a popular establishment. Another one and you questioned the type of customers this place had. It wasn’t loud, but it felt.. Suspicious.

Your stomach disagreed with you, and you hungrily gorged on the dinner the man purchased for you. If not for the food, you would’ve noticed his obsessive staring. His eyes lingered on your dirtied face, picturing something.

‘’What is your name?’’ He asked, causing you to look up from your plate. ‘’..Why do you want to know?’’ Your eyes warily scanned the man. You did not trust him one bit, but you were so damn hungry. A part of you was ready to kill him if needed. You didn’t care if they threw you in jail.. At least you’d be somewhere inside. Hidden. ‘’Tav…My name is Tav..’’ 

Why you wanted to hide, you could not place. What were you hiding from? A headache?

No.. This food was too good. Just think about the food. Eat your heart out. Ignore this man.

Once finished, you watched the man pay for a room, he took you upstairs, guiding you inside. A warm bed was waiting for you, not the best.. But better than the stone floors of Neverwinter. Better than frostbite and cold feet.

Then.. The door lock made a loud sound behind you. The once too friendly guard grabbed you by the throat, slamming you onto the bed. Your vision quickly turns white, and before you know it, you’re covered in blood, drifting in the water by the docks, unsure what just happened.

Disoriented by the sudden displacement, you force yourself to swim back to the shore, fighting the nausea and coughing up from the cold. Shuddering.

There’s shouting, yelling in the distance. Fear. You wanted to run.. Did you kill the man? Did he drug you? The water already washed away any evidence. You search yourself for wounds but find none. Perhaps you did kill him, for one thing.. The dagger you hid below your shirt was missing. Your cloak was torn, making you believe there was a struggle and you got away.

You searched for the location of the fight in the distance. You could see the inn from where you stood. The roof was torn open, yet there were no signs of fire or explosion. Just a large hole, like a beast flew out. The guard certainly took notice, because you could see flashes of torches reaching the place.

Without much further thought, you jumped back in the water and swam to a different dock, to avoid leaving footsteps in the sand.

Once you reach the safety of the wooden planks, a fainting spell overtakes your body, but your stubborn reflexes refuse to let you pass out. Landing on your hands, you got right back up, jerking forward, eyes searching for the nearest hiding spot.

You notice the doors of a storage shed, likely used by the fishmongers. Once you got close enough, you halfway fell against the door, it opened just fine. Someone forgot to lock this place up it seems.

Exhausted, you drag yourself, crawling inside, hoping you aren’t bleeding and leaving no trail. It didn’t matter, even with the adrenaline, your body demanded sleep.

You face plant into the ground, unable to move. The fear kept you awake for a while, making you shake helplessly. Something awakened in your veins, a headache.. Then.. A quake. Some boxes fell, the sound of dead fish flopping over the floor was close .Afterwards, silence.

The silence was so deafening.

Morning came oh so rudely. A trail of light hits your wet face, you feel stiff. You hadn’t died of hypothermia, but you might soon.. Your instincts told you to get up and search for warmth.

The shed had many things, fish. Partially spoiled, some still fresh and preserved.

Firstly, you took boots that were laying around and happily discarded your old ones. For a moment, you looked at the scraps that previously covered your feet. The chunky old things had holes, and a strange familiarity. It made you sad as you stared. These boots must’ve been dear to you once, but you can’t fathom why it made your heart sink to toss them. Was it a family heirloom? No.. Maybe you’d just worn them for a very long time. It was nostalgia.

Some more searching and you found a few things they’d probably miss. A new bag you could slink around your waist, and a fresh shirt. It was old, smelled bad, and had a few patched holes, but it was good enough. A needle and thread later, and you repaired your cloak with some fabric you found.

Before leaving, you made sure to clean up the mess you made, hoping to hide your traces. A few fish they could miss as well, serving yourself some breakfast with a makeshift firebolt.

The docks were starting to become lively, not too crowded. You passed with ease back into the streets, returning to your usual habits. Wandering and taking things that could be missed. Your mind emptied itself of the events of last night. It happened, it passed.

 A thin layer of snow had started to cover the city landscape, greeting you bitterly.

Something about the season felt strange. As if you’d never seen snow before. Everything felt new, yet so strangely familiar. Images occasionally played in your head, showing the streets of a different city. It was confusing and disorienting at times, but you did not like the visions.

Something about the different city made you feel on edge. There was a vision of an explosion, fires. Bodies scattered among the rubble. Whatever that place was, you weren’t there anymore. You were here instead.

This morning, the usual charitable figures would approach you, not say a thing, but toss a few coins your way. They barely looked at you, feigning empathy, but truly they just pitied the sight of you. Hoping the money would be enough to make you leave.

One look at your reflection in the frozen fountain water spoke loudly. You were a mess. Your hair had grown longer, tangled, uncared for. Despite the fresh clothes, your face was covered in bruises and patches of dirt. You did not recognise your own face, vaguely recalling what it used to look like. Your eyes were dull, doll-like. Tired.

‘’Look at him. It reminds me of when this City had a Beggar’s Nest.’’ Gossip of two loud Elven nobles nearby took your attention, but you didn’t turn to face them.

‘’Hush! Enough of that. I don’t want to think about that damn volcano or the undead invasion again.’’ Afterwards, the couple huddled away quickly.

Your mind blanked. You are a beggar. That’s the closest to a sense of self you’ve gotten this past week. You’ve been here for at least a few months. Someone approached you with a letter a little while ago, but it made no sense to you. The place was vaguely described, and you did not know what any of it meant. The letter must’ve been misplaced, so you tossed it without much thought.

‘’You look like you could use some help.’’ Another voice. This time, it came from someone much smaller than you. A halfling woman, she looked at you with a bright smile. ‘’Want a job?’’ She offered. ‘’I’ve just opened a tavern nearby. Work for me.’’ The cheerfulness of the woman made you wary. ‘’I..I.. Don’t like taverns.’’ You stuttered. ‘’C’mon now lad.’’ She offered her hand. ‘’Let's get you warm, okay?’’ Something in you made you reach forward. She had this motherly feeling about her. Your height difference was a little awkward as she pulled you away from the public space as if you were a lost child.

All the way into her charming little building, she held your hand firmly, not tightly, but firm. She was strong, you could sense. Perhaps the woman had been an adventurer some time ago. All though it was more likely that you were skin and bones, you did not have much strength to go on with and last night reminded you of that.

‘’I am Jilvy Fogwater, This is my tavern! Do you have a name, dear?’’ The halfling woman spoke once you sat down. The tavern was definitely made for people of various heights. The woman grabbed a seat and climbed on top to meet you face to face. ‘’..Tav. It’s just Tav.’’

‘’Tav, hmm?’’ Jilvy cocked her head to the side. ‘’You seem so unsure..’’ She pondered, looking worried.

‘’No worries Tav! Let me take care of you from now on.’’ Her smile was warm and friendly. Something inside your empty head responded. Was that a sense of relief? You couldn’t tell.

Your emotions had been confusing for so long. The only things that made sense were your base instincts. Hide. Run. Steal. Eat. ‘’Okay..’’ You wanted to thank her, but you hesitated.

She nodded at your response in acknowledgement, turning around and pouring you a hot cup of tea from which you drank greedily.

‘’Usually the folks prefer beer at these kinds of establishments. I intend to serve breakfast and lunches without alcohol.’’ The woman continued to prattle on about her business venture. Something about healthier diets and battling addiction or whatever.

Your mind emptied as you eyed the wall. There were some pictures framed. Paintings. One of her family, probably. Another of a halfling child with a similar hair colour to you.

Perhaps this woman pitied you, or felt a need to heal from an old wound. You didn’t know, and you didn’t want to ask. Her motherly energy was difficult to ignore. You did not find it unwelcome, just odd. Everything was odd.

At the very least you didn’t feel lonely.

[kazoosandfannypacks]

2, 11, 16 and 20 for the fandom asks! 💜

a headcanon you weren't sure about at first but have come to like!

Can I just say Cygnet Scholar as a ship??? I never would've thought to put them together, but I'm so glad someone else did!!!

if you're a writer or artist, what fic or piece of art are you proud of making?

let's go with this drawing! (originally posted here!)

and I wanna highlight one of my fics too, so let's go with need a player 2? which I'm especially proud of for being a multimedia fic that incorporates images into the storytelling!

a tiny detail in canon that you want more people to appreciate

ezra bridger's face scars. they are my favorite thing in the whole entire world

your very first fandom!

if by "fandom" you mean media that made me want to interact with other people who like that media, it's Newsies, which is the fandom that got me on tumblr. But if you just mean "tv show that permanently altered your brain chemistry" it's gotta be Phineas and Ferb.

Love your fandom ask game!

[saintsenara]

For the tag game can you tell us more about First Do No Harm :)

thank you very much, anon! first do no harm is an excellent choice from the work in progress tag game list.

provided you don't mind a bit of harrymort, with a snake-faced voldemort, rather than a hot one, that is.

[although - just as a pre-warning - i don't advise reading any further if you have health anxiety...]

i spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about the worldbuilding around wizarding medicine - and, in particular, how societal attitudes to illness and disability are changed by the fact that, canonically, magic can treat, cure, or render meaningless things which would, in our world, be considered permanent, chronic, life-limiting, or fatal.

[spoiler alert: i hate the fact that the series thinks this, since it pretty much justifies the blood-supremacist position that wizards and muggles are essentially different species... but that's a conversation for another day...]

the exception to the series' rule that wizards are more durable than muggles is its attitude towards brain injury and cognitive disability. the loss of cognitive function - which is implied to have a debilitating, irreversible impact on magical ability - is something the series finds uniquely horrifying. think of the brutal torture of frank and alice longbottom, the mind-altering power of the dementors, the fear of being placed under the imperius curse, and so on.

and i've been playing around a lot recently with how these thoughts could be used in fic - and, especially, how they could be used in a way which wasn't just me reeling off my notes from uni. not least because i don't know where those are.

and, obviously, how they could be tied into my actual favourite thing to write about...

harry potter and lord voldemort being forced to engage with the concept of love.

there is - of course - a very famous trope which medicalises love: hanahaki disease. and my original idea for first do no harm was to write something using this.

of real world diseases, hanahaki most closely resembles tuberculosis [a comparison which has been made in numerous fics, including a lovely bit of tomarry - consumption by @laeveteinn]. and i can understand why something tuberculosis-like grabs fic writers' imagination... after all, tb was considered incredibly glamorous in the victorian era - it makes you fashionably pale! it gives you big shiny eyes! it makes you look fragile and feminine and delicate! it makes you gives you an attractive flush on the cheekbones! it makes you cough blood delicately into a handkerchief! it consumes you from the inside out!

and it kills you.

[and it's getting harder to treat.]

and, sure, it makes a great metaphor for unrequited love. but for unrequited love which is sad, rather than terrifying and unwanted... and this fic is about love which is terrifying and unwanted.

which is where talking about the brain comes in...

when asked to name diseases which frighten them, most people would - and, indeed, should! - say rabies. and i do think there's something to be said for this humble virus - which can be transmitted by a tiny, unnoticeable bite from something as small as a bat; which has guaranteed its target is going to die in horrendous circumstances by the time they've even started to suspect that something's wrong - as a metaphor for love taking root without its host realising, and for how disorienting and overpowering love can be when it gets going.

rabies kills a bit too quickly for my purposes though...

lucky there's something just as horrifying lurking out there. a subset of neurodegenerative diseases known as transmissible spongiform encephalopathies. or prion diseases.

most people have very probably heard of at least one prion disease: bovine spongiform encephalopathy [mad cow disease - i.e. reveal you're a european millennial without saying you're a european millenial]; creutzfeld-jacob disease; kuru [famously transmitted via cannibalism]; and the one which has made me feel vaguely terrified since i first discovered it existed...

fatal familial insomnia. in which the prion-induced degeneration of the brain causes holes to appear in the thalamus - the area of the brain which regulates sleep - until it resembles a sponge.

and the patient can literally never sleep again.

for the rest of their life - usually within eighteen months of the disease's onset - they are held in hypnagogia [pre-sleep limbo, the state between wakefulness and sleeping]. they are disoriented, panicking, hallucinating, forgetful, losing control over their body, losing control over their entire sense of self...

[the face of prion diseases is the astonishing scientist sonia vallabh, who is trying to make as much progress towards a cure for fatal insomnia as she can before it kills her.]

you wouldn't wish it on your worst enemy.

well, maybe you would. if you didn't know that a bit of your worst enemy's soul lived inside your greatest weapon, or that your greatest weapon's blood kept your worst enemy's heart beating, or that they are most vulnerable to each other as their connected minds linger on the threshold of dreaming and waking...

how lucky that - unlike muggles, who just have to die from neurodegenerative diseases - this curse could be lifted from dear old harry and poor old snake-face voldemort if they put in a bit of effort and fall in love with each other...

ah.

shit.

[the title - first do no harm - is a bioethical phrase which is often misattributed as being part of the hippocratic oath. it is also just a generally sound philosophy to have in life. eh, albus?]

[soullessjack]

how was the con!! what did you put in the gift bag for alcal!? im curious! ^_^

IT WAS AMAZING!!!!!!!! Absolutely life changing permanently brain altering 100% would recommend doing but mind you it will be extremely emotionally exhausting and overwhelming (or it was in my case) so be mindful of that!

The gift bag had two of my favorite books:

> The Westing Game — a murder mystery slash funeral whodunnit sort of thing

> Who Am I? — an essay collection book about various peoples’ experiences with forming their identity and overall identity psychology (it’s one of my biggest special interests)

and then

> two ice wine teabags, because that’s one of my favorite tea flavors ever and the brand ironically is Canadian! Alex actually told me what ice wine is (basically a dessert drink) but he wasn’t aware there was a tea for it

> the note with all your guys’ messages!!

> a tiny drawstring bag full of gemstones I picked out of my rock collection bc he’s a crystal girlie! I had to have a friend help me actually identify them (shoutout 2 Asher my slime of all time) but they are, I think: aventurine, red hematoid quartz, amethyst, celestite, malachite, smoky quartz and I might have forgotten the rest actually

I think he liked the books most bc he was flipping through them right on the autograph table and told me how much he loved paperback books, and I’m so glad! These are my own books so I had to be very careful in picking ones I knew for sure that he would actually enjoy

and sorry I keep saying this but it just means the world to me so I absolutely have to. after I was done explaining the note from you guys as part of his gifts, he said “Oh, take this to pass along” and took a bracelet right off his wrist and handed it to me and I bawled my eyes out about it seven hours later (7 - 7)

[qprsmackdown]

Gillion, Chip, and Jay (JRWI Riptide) vs Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo (DSMP)

Propaganda beneath the cut!

Gillion, Chip, and Jay propaganda: They're three gay ass pirates who; despite coming from very different backgrounds, found eachother and formed the riptide pirates! All three of them are co-captains on their crew and they're trying to destroy the government HI HI HI I ALREaDY SUBMITTED FISH AND CHIPS AND IN THIS AREA I tALKED ABOUT HOW I WISHED JAY WAS ALLOWED AND THEN I SAW YOU ANSWER THAT ASK THAT SAID YOU CAN HAVE MORE THAN 2 PEOPLE SO IM SUBMITTING THE ALBATRIO INSTEAD THANK YOU LOVE YOU Gillion is canonically asexual and shipped with both Jay and Chip respectively. I just think they are all very queer and platonically in love is all. I love polyamory. Put those guys in a relationship.

Benchtrio propaganda: My friend wrote a fanfiction detailing their platonic relationship from childhood friends to spouses. It is over 1 million words long. Pls he needs this

my good friend sunny wrote over 1million words of fanfiction about them that was so good it permanently altered my brain chemistry. also i think the feat of over 1mil words is worth the win (:

Ranboo and Tubbo are canonically married, semi-canonically platonically so. Tubbo and Tommy have known each other for years, and have an understanding of each other that no one else does. Tommy and Ranboo went through a very awkward and begrudging beginning of their friendship, but Ranboo would go on to make Tommy's grave when he died.

I want to start off by stressing that these 3 are characters and are not at all connected to the real world creators that portrayed them aside from having the same name.

c!Ranboo and c!Tubbo were canonically married, with the nature of their marriage being largely ambiguous and up for interpretation! They live together in a mansion with their adopted child, Michael, a tiny baby piglin! c!Tommy was never an official part of their marriage, but the three spent so much time together(before the series' writing took a very unfortunate turn due to behind the scenes stuff) that they might as well have been a qpr polycule! It is confirmed that c!Ranboo(an 8'5 foot tall enderman hybrid) can only look 2 people directly in the eyes with it being STRONGLY implied those 2 people were c!Tommy and c!Tubbo! Their relationship didn't get as much time as it needed due to the series's unfortunate downturn near the end, but while it was there, it was a very comforting, very tender relationship between 3 traumatized young queer teens who were their for one another through their journeys in healing from their various traumas. Also one time c!Tommy and c!Ranboo got high together in a tiny smoke box they made(they also met when Ranboo hit him on the head with a giant flower. An allium, to be specific!).

[femadjecent]

If I had a nickel for every tiny green alien that was mentally ill to the point they actively delude themselves that they never did anything wrong (that in fact no everyone else is wrong) and that they think (or pretend) they're the hottest shit when theyre actually the most pathetic mf in the universe that gets easily taken down by children, and was conceptualized/published around the turn of the millennium, and also who's existence permanently altered my brain chemistry... I'd have two nickels.

[thesoulesscollection]

In The Name Of Love & Betrayal

I apologize for the lack of interaction but I do hope you enjoy this even with a rare ship and odder plot. 

CopperRightVin (I may try to think of a different ship name for my sake 🤔 just so it won't be mixed up with CopperRightMin)

Tw/Tags: Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Double Agent Charles, Morally Ambiguous/Grey Charles, Ooc Charles (But for this it's in character if that makes sense?), Domestic Fluff, Minor Angst, & Plot/World Building Heavy(Ish)

From a day so prolonged, Charles is fatigued by the end of it. Within seconds, in a snap of the finger his life is altered drastically and he doesn't know what to ponder about it. Since then to now, tiredly slumped in the backseat to some luxuriant vehicle, he can't even use his brain, or even his body for that matter. 

"Look tired there?" In his haze Charles can hear the familiar accented voice up at the driver's seat. 

"Hmm, You don't look well, darling" A second, softer, smoother voice recalls. Gloved hands then cups his face that brought him to reality again. Past bleary eyes, which showed to be a momentary struggle for him to focus, saw a face looking genuinely concerned for his well being. "You should get some sleep, doll. We had a long day, didn't we, Right, dear?" Not too long after Charles did close his eyes, he barely hears the last conversation between the two men. Some he picks up on, either it relates to him and or the day that led them here, other topic pieces he ignores for the calmingly numb buzz sound in his head. 

"He should. Did so well for us earlier" 

With a broken little whine Charles can't help to preen at the glowing praise, "... I. Y-yeah… I did…" 

"You did. We're so proud. For putting all you knew on the line for us" Life as Charles ever known is uprooted, changed forever to which he can't back out on. 

"Never expect much outta you in the terms of a good strategy plan but that one worked out spectacularly" The driver, Right, says with a chuckle. 

"...They… Didn't know what hit them… I-it. It was amazing …" In between a yawn, Charles continues with them. Once he would've felt bad, still there's a nagging voice saying he should, although pushed back, he's actually expressing pure giddiness. "... You all. You should've seen their faces" He can picture them, no matter how he forced it to dissolve into a faint memory where it is permanently seared into his mind. The looks were an odd combination of shock, anger, sadness, and more importantly, betrayal, if they found out about his status.  

"Yes. We saw a few. They were utterly beside themselves in grief. They think you're dead" 

"... That's … Good" Decidedly Charles laid their head on the man's lap, curling into a tiny ball rather than bother an attempt to sleep in their stiff seat. "I should feel bad for them… I don't though…" Spoken softly in a hush, as if someone could hear them. Maybe that made the (ex) pilot a traitor in the law's eyes, in his old friend's viewpoint nevertheless he'll grow past it. 

"Eh' you shouldn't feel too bad for those dogs anyways" Right snidely remarks, earning a tutting noise from their partner. "You're back with the clan and us" 

"Yes. There's quite a few who miss you. We certainly do"

They cracked their eyes open a little, staring up at Reginald with a sullen expression when they replied, "Not exactly who I was referring to. I could care less, they saw me as a simple minded, naive fool they can use. You won't believe how many times I wanted to shoot them in their smug faces. Better yet crash the plane into the nearest building per my 'great plans' with them in it. Painfully ridiculous in what I had to deal with on a daily basis" 

While rambling on, Charles stops, sensing Reginald's fingers cautiously curl around his thick, white locs. "We know. So who do you mean then?" 

"There were these two people I was assigned to work with during my time with the military" Charles picked up, heavily exhausted, and he fought against it. "In order to take both you and the Toppats down" 

In the internal rear side mirror Charles saw Right perks a brow, suddenly curious. "You mean Stickmin and Ms. Rose?" His robotic eye turns a blazing red, and a scowl on his scruffy face. 

"Yes... A part of me does wish I could've told them. I knew better than to spill. It would've risked everything more than it already did. They were amazing in their skills" Charles sympathetically understood why he couldn't have at the time. His teammates, thinking he was their best friend, were regular, run of the mill thieves turning a brand new leaf for the government. 

Far too much a risk to his main cause. They were more trouble then what Charles thought their worth was to him. 

"You shouldn't miss them" Reginald took his turn to respond, looking rather bristled at the mere mention. "Likely they were only in it for themselves. They're a danger to the clan and I'm amazed we aren't totally inoperative" 

"I know. Still they were something" Charles sighs dismissively. 

"We're home. Finally" Right pipes up, curt, as he stops the car and exits. The back door is opened moments later, Charles stays put on Reginald's lap. A gentle persistent nudge at their sides keeps them awake, just barely. "It was a long ride for us. Do you need help?" 

"U-uh, no… No, I think I'm fine. I can handle it" 

Right hums, not believing a single word with Reginald helping the third party up and out the car. "You need it the most. Today was quite spoiled with excitement" He sleepily imagines Reginald fret over him. 

"Sure" He purrs, "I love a good tending to"

In one swift movement, Charles is swooped into the strong arms, obviously it was Right, cold metal earning a chilled shiver. Again he hears Reginald speak across his head to the man, the man's hands freely brushing a loc behind his ear. Well earned sleep came in a slow progression that is able to fully drown out his problems. Enough he for once could relax, to snuggle into the other's broad chest and notice in his daze they entering a house. Charles is met with a deeply intimate warmth seeping into their skin, soothes the aches in his body. A sleepy smile adorned their worn face, safe to be at ease, be with people he's known and loved for years..

[to-mourn-a-mourning-dove]

why hello there. i have played hatoful boyfriend and it altered my brain chemistry permanently. im less hyperfixated on it as of this edit (june 7, 2024) but i still enjoy a good bird every now and again

spoilers are NOT tagged on this blog. proceed with caution.

i ship stuff like hitori/nageki, sakuya/yuuya, ryuuji/shuu, shuu/nageki, and hitori/kazuaki (original). i will ship anything and everything! PLEASE block me if ur not comfy with that. it will make both our internet experiences better.

non-suspicious link here so that tumblr shadow bans this post!!!!

tag system under the cut

-

content warnings

#incest — for incestuous pairings like sakuya/yuuya & nageki/hitori

#age gap — for pairings between a child & adult like nageki/shuu

#gore — umbrella tag for gore, including tiny things like blood & death

#cannibalism — this will include humans eating birds and vice versa

#whump — torture, abusive relationships, any sort of harmful relationship between characters

main characters

#hiyoko tosaka

#ryouta kawara

#sakuya shirogane

#nageki fujishiro

#yuuya sakazaki

#shuu iwamine

#okosan

#anghel higure

#hitori uzune

#kazuaki-kun — the original kazuaki (link breaks on mobile)

#kazuaki nanaki — posts for both or either of them

side characters

#azami koshiba

#ryuuji kawara

#tohri nishikikouji

#leone jb

#miru and kaku

#albert alain alkan

alter egos

#professor nanaki — hitori, but blonde

#the king — kazuaki in his villain arc

#kageki - shadow nageki/the guy haunting hitori

#souma isa — shuu, but with shorter hair

#the king au — characters who are NOT kazuaki dressed as/playing the role of the king

#absolute zero — designs from absolute zero

content

#thoughts — general tag for original posts with thoughts, rambles, theories, etc

#writing — my fanfiction & snippets of what i'm working on

#art — any fanart i make (currently nonexistent)

#shitpost — non-hatoful shitposts i reblog to claim as a character

#birds — real-life birds tagged as characters

#reblog — usually for reblogging other's fanart

#moas — reblogs/reposts of moa's art

#damus — reblogs/reposts of damurushi's art

#good post — someone else's analysis of a character that i really like

ships

my ship tags are REALLLYY inconsistent, the only ones that im good about taggings are #quail boyfriends and #fantailcest, everything else is either untagged or tagged weird