#so i become monstrous to myself and i love myself as that monster

[naamahdarling]

.

[yeyinde]

I’m begging for your opinions on regency era nasty Simon😭😭

i promised myself this wasn't going to become an anthology but here i am. anthologising.

he's from the absolute bottom of the social circle. his dad was the town drunk, and Simon made a lot of enemies. Price's shady dealings put him and Simon together. i want him to have gone to jail—possibly for murder—and it really shaped who he was as a person. made worse, naturally, when his whole family is killed as soon as he gets out. Simon is blamed, but there's no evidence. rumours start about how a rival gang tried to bury him alive when he was in jail, but he dug his way out. they say he died. he's a monster. a pariah.

he's probably a butcher by day but takes care of Price's dirty work by night. helps run the racket. is an enforcer. just a mean, broken man. spent his formative years in jail surrounded by horrible men.

and you!!! ahhh, Mrs Price's NOSY niece. she goes missing and you come down, sniffing around because this isn't right. why would your aunt run off when she's been raised properly? this isn't like her. it all seems so suspicious. and Price's accusations have tarnished your family's reputation - saying that she ran away with a lowly barkeep in the middle of the night. a decades-long affair, stole money from him. all sorts of nasty business that ruin your family. so, you come to stick your nose into things and ask the questions no one else will.

Price doesn't want you anywhere near his almost wife/servant girl, so he sics the biggest, meanest dog he has on you. only. instead of killing you, Simon takes a disgusting interest in the prim socialite who somehow manages to talk down to him even as he towers over you. it breeds an obsession. unravels all these awful thoughts he's had about the upper class. and his boss giving him the go-ahead to ruin this pretty little bird that always seemed so untouchable? well. sure.

he's keenly aware of how your circle works, and uses that tongue advantage. mocks you when you snap at him to keep his filthy hands off of you, and tells you that you should have stayed in your ivory cage, little bird. gets a sick, twisted pleasure dragging you down the social ladder just by lying his dirty fingers on you. from gold cuffs to a pair of rusting, iron shackles. he loves ruining you. gets off when you call him all sorts of nasty names, trying to act all prim and haughty still, even with his cum drying on your face.

you call him a monster and he pinches your face between his thumb and forefinger, cruelly asking you if he's a monster, then what does that make you? the little fool carrying his monstrous brood. who in your little circle is gonna want you now? knowing that a beast like him put his hands all over you and his babe inside of you? probs whistles to himself as he gets to work on "disappearing" your aunt for good while your whole world crashes down around you lmao

Price is miffed that you're not just as missing as your aunt, but. whatever. Simon's content. you're taken care of. and he gets to pretend to be a good man with his pretty little servant girl tucked into his side. everyone wins.

[deancrowleycas]

Favorite Shots Per Episode ✩ 1.06 Skin (3/3)

cinematography analysis and queer reading under the cut

It's of course very obvious that the shapeshifter is functioning as a mirror to Dean, but I still find it fascinating how this is depicted in the cinematography. Because the director isn't using physical mirrors, despite them being such a popular trope in horror for showing the true self or the mental state or metamorphosis of a character. The only time where you sort of see one is in a foreshadowing shortly after the establishing shot with the side-view mirror (which I absolutely love):

But for the rest? Not really. I always wonder if interpret waaaay too much into certain frames, but I am kind of obsessed with how Dean and Becky are divided by the crime scene tape in this shot. Becky is the victim. Dean, well Dean? He's the monster. Kind of. I think a lot of the reflection in this episode happens through what Dean is not also, and he's are not living the lives of 'normal' people. I love how the directing of the episode shows early on that Dean does not belong to that part of society, just like the shapeshifter.

I mean I obviously am doing a queer reading of that (being queer myself), with the monstrous and othered bodies in media being those that are not conforming to various aspects of white cishet society. But I am going to say - the implication that there is a sort of inherent tragedy to Dean's life, not just a sense of not belonging because of his 'lifestyle' but also the fear of being monstrous enough to destroy other people's bodies and livelihoods? Ugh. It hurts, and it's sadly coming back in anti-queer narratives to this day. But yeah, as I said, Dean is portrayed in a way that is disconnecting him from the rest - also from Sam who is the link to this 'normal' life by knowing Becky and who has kept Dean from 'being himself' by pursuing his own dreams and conforming to the exact society that Dean is not belonging to, letting Dean behind in a position where he's neither free to be himself nor enough to be someone else -, and that is giving him a sameness to the shapeshifter.

Dean has to hide the queer part of himself, in a desperate attempt to be accepted, mirrored by the monster of the week: "So maybe this thing was born human but was different, hideous and hated...until he learned to become someone else."

I think that's why I am also obsessed with these shots. Because both the shapeshifter and the shapeshifter as Dean are getting one, revealing their true self underneath the mask that is this body, a body that is subjected to other people's ideas and is projected on and isn't their own. But also the eyes are mirrors? The body part described as the 'mirror to the soul'. It's a little cliché and on the nose, but I find it way cooler than just working with physical mirrors, you know?

And yeah, when it comes to reflections, of course, we cannot forget this scene:

Which is Dean seeing himself, but more so is actually Dean seeing how he is perceived by others. It's not a depiction of his actual self, it's a depiction of the concept of him. We know this, we know Dean is not the 'bad guy' that is televised nor is it an accurate portrayal of him. But I think that it serves to show the audience how media is a place that can shape ideas and construct norms, and it also serves as a way to remind Dean that this is how he will be reacted to if he dares to 'become' monstrous. If he dared to be like the shapeshifter, the outcast, and put his own being over his responsibility to conform. Despite his brother Sam being allowed the same egoism - but Sam's egoism is striving to conform, he's lawboy@stanford.edu you know, and Dean's egoism is striving to be free, to regain control over his body.

And then we have this shot.

Followed by this shot.

Dean 'killing' this reflection of himself, this part of himself in favor of serving and saving. He's a freak, but he's not just a freak like Sam in that he's currently living the hunter lifestyle and didn't really fit into Stanford. Because - well, he's different than Sam. Queer. He's isolated, alone, born hated like the shapeshifter if he ever lived his true self, yearning to be loved. The shapeshifter literally says it: "All he wants is for someone to love him. He’s like me. You know, everybody needs a little human touch now and then. It’s so hard to be different." I think this episode hits so hard for me because you can see Dean's self-hatred, especially in that last shot, Dean's internal struggles that he hides so well under his hero-esque facade. But also how he is ultimately a loving and caring person, putting everyone's happiness above himself.

I think despite this episode reading like being queer is an inherent tragedy at first glance, it walks a fine line in actually trying to convey quite the opposite. Dean is other, but the other isn't bad. Yes, he does good by suppressing himself, so does that mean he has to act according to others to be happy? I don't think that is what the episode is saying. I think it is more an example of Dean's 'monstrosity' being not the same as the shapeshifter's monstrosity in the end, that despite all the sameness they aren't one. That despite what society depicts him to be, evil and harmful to others, he isn't this mirror image projected onto him. He isn't what was shown on those televisions, or in a wider sense, the media. He isn't what is hunted down by the SWAT team, or in a wider sense, institutions in power. Dean's self IS good. Dean's self IS caring and loving, despite his fear to pursue his own dreams and be free, and it's not coming through his actions of suppressing those desires, but because he ultimately is neither those 'normal' people nor the shapeshifter, but his own truth. So yeah, while I think this episode definitely walks a dangerous path by having Dean continue to live this old life in the end, the cinematography in this episode also functions to reveal how - while horror is a love letter to the monstrous, represents counter-narratives and helps to deconstruct normativity (like in this episode!) - the monstrous is often instrumentalized to suppress and oppress and depict victims as an inherent danger to the established systems of oppression. Dean's true self isn't bad. People are just made to believe that it is.

[moonselune]

Inbox is open, you say? Here's an idea based on something that just happened during my current run: how would the companions react to a Tav who failed the save to reject the Astral-Touched Tadpole and is distraught at how her body's been changed against her will, and scared that she's going to lose her sense of self and become something monstrous? When this happened to me, most of the companions had little if anything to say about it, but Lae'zel and Halsin acted like I'd eaten it willingly and were really mean to me about it. :(

They are so mean ! And for what ! I'm tryna save your asses !

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

Karlach’s heart broke the moment she saw you, trembling and wide-eyed, after the confrontation with the Astral-Touched Tadpole. The look in your eyes—a mix of shock, fear, and deep sorrow—was something that pierced her in a way that no blade or battle ever could.

You had tried everything to resist the tadpole’s corrupting influence, but it had finally sunk its claws into you, altering your body in ways you never asked for. You feared what came next: a loss of control, the destruction of your mind, and eventually becoming something unrecognizable, something monstrous.

Your body, once so familiar, now felt foreign. The changes weren't just visible; they pulled at your very essence, like you were slowly unraveling from the inside out. In that moment, it felt like everything was slipping away.

And Karlach… Karlach had been there through thick and thin, always smiling, always strong. But when she saw you like this, her heart ached in ways she hadn’t expected. This wasn’t a battle she could fight for you, and that helplessness gnawed at her. Still, she knew exactly what to do.

She crossed the camp swiftly, her warm, comforting presence surrounding you before she even spoke.

“Hey… hey, it’s okay,” she murmured, sitting beside you and wrapping her arms around your shaking form. Her voice, usually loud and boisterous, softened to a tone meant only for you. “You’re safe. You’re still here with me.”

You clung to her, burying your face in her chest. Her heartbeat was strong and steady, the one thing that felt real when everything else seemed to be slipping away. But despite her comfort, the fear in you hadn’t faded.

“I-I couldn’t stop it, Karlach,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you looked up at her. “I… I tried everything. It’s… it’s changing me. I can feel it. What if I lose myself? What if I—" Your voice cracked, and you looked down at your hands, which had started to take on a faint, otherworldly sheen. “What if I become a monster?”

Karlach’s breath hitched in her throat. She could feel your fear like a palpable thing, pressing in on both of you. But she wouldn’t let it take you. Not while she was still here. She cupped your face in her hands, bringing your gaze to meet hers, her eyes filled with fierce determination.

“You listen to me,” she said firmly, but with tenderness, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “You are not a monster. Not now, not ever. Do you hear me? No matter what this tadpole does, it doesn’t get to take away who you are.”

You blinked at her, overwhelmed by the conviction in her voice. The tears kept coming, but her words grounded you.

“But I feel… different,” you admitted quietly, almost ashamed. “What if I start thinking differently? What if I—” Your voice trailed off, too scared to finish the sentence.

Karlach shook her head, pulling you closer, her calloused hand rubbing gentle circles on your back. “Then I’ll be right there to remind you who you are. You think I’m going to let you go down without a fight? Hell no. I know you, better than anyone. You’re stubborn, and you’ve got a good heart—a heart I fell in love with. No tadpole can change that.”

She smiled softly at you, her touch radiating warmth as she brushed your hair back from your face. “And even if you start to feel lost, even if things get scary, you’re not doing this alone, alright? We’ll face it together. Whatever this tadpole does, it has to get through me first.”

The way she said it—so fiercely protective, so determined—made something inside you soften. You leaned into her, resting your head against her chest, letting her hold you as if nothing in the world could ever hurt you again.

“But what if I can’t… stop it?” you whispered after a moment. “What if I can’t fight it forever?”

Karlach’s arms tightened around you. “Then we’ll fight it together. You’ll have me by your side, every step of the way. And if things get hard, if you feel like you’re losing yourself, I’ll be there to pull you back. Every time.” She kissed the top of your head, her voice low and sincere. “You’re not losing yourself, love. Not while I’m here.”

You could hear the pain in her voice—the fear of losing you, of not being able to save you from this. But even more than that, you heard her resolve. She wasn’t going to let this thing win. And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you felt a small flicker of hope.

“I love you, you know that?” you murmured, your voice quiet but sincere. It was all you could say in that moment—your way of thanking her for holding you together when you felt like you were falling apart.

Karlach’s chest shook with a quiet laugh, though you could hear the emotion behind it.

“I love you too, more than you know,” she replied, kissing your forehead once more. “We’re going to get through this. I promise.”

You nodded against her, letting her warmth and her unwavering strength comfort you. You knew the fight wasn’t over—far from it. But with Karlach by your side, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you could keep hold of yourself. And as she held you in front of the fire, her presence chased away the darkness that threatened to engulf you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

You had locked yourself in your tent for days now, hiding from the world, and hiding from yourself. The Astral-Touched Tadpole had taken root in your mind, warping your body in ways that terrified you. It wasn’t just the physical changes—the strange, shimmering glow to your skin, the unnatural sharpness to your senses—it was the fear of what was happening inside. You could feel it tugging at your mind, whispering, and each day you felt like you were slipping further and further away from who you once were.

Fear clung to you like a second skin, suffocating, and no amount of logic or reasoning could break through the walls you had built around yourself. You refused to leave your tent, convinced that if you did, you would be stepping out as something monstrous, something no one—not even her—could bear to look at.

But Minthara wasn’t the type to wait around. You had learned that early on. Patience wasn’t a virtue she often entertained, especially when it came to things she cared about.

The tent flap was yanked open with force, the dim light of the camp spilling inside and casting long shadows across the floor. Before you could protest, Minthara stepped inside, her presence filling the small space as she glared down at you with a fierce intensity.

“Enough of this,” she snapped, her voice low and commanding. “You will not hide away like some coward over something as insignificant as this.”

Your heart leaped into your throat at her words. “Insignificant?” you choked out, your voice raw from disuse. “Minthara, look at me!” You gestured to yourself, your hands trembling as you did. “It’s changing me. My body, my mind… I don’t even recognize myself anymore. I can feel it inside me, twisting everything. I’m scared I’m going to lose control—lose myself—and turn into something… something horrible.”

Tears welled up in your eyes despite your best efforts to keep them at bay. You didn’t want to cry in front of her—not Minthara, who was always so strong, so composed. But you couldn’t help it. The fear was too overwhelming.

For a moment, Minthara said nothing. She just stood there, looking down at you, her sharp eyes narrowing as she took in your disheveled form. Then, with a huff of impatience, she knelt in front of you, grabbing your chin with firm but not painful force and forcing you to look at her.

“Listen to me,” she said, her voice low but fierce. “You are not some fragile creature who will be undone by this. You are strong, stronger than most could ever hope to be. I have seen you in battle, seen you face down horrors that would make others cower. You think a tadpole—a mere parasite—is enough to destroy you?”

You opened your mouth to argue, to tell her that this was different, that this wasn’t something you could fight with sword or spell. But before you could speak, she continued, her voice taking on a softer, more dangerous edge.

“You are ethereal,” she said, her fingers brushing against your cheek in a surprisingly tender gesture. “Beautiful. Perfect. This tadpole may have changed you, but it has not taken away the essence of who you are. You are still mine.”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, and despite the fear still gnawing at your insides, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of warmth at her touch, at the possessiveness in her tone. Minthara was never one for sentiment, but when she spoke like this, you knew she meant every word.

“And if anything,” she added, a sly smile curling at the corners of her lips, “I should be the one sulking. I had hoped to claim the Astral-Touched Tadpole for myself. But now, you’ve gone and taken it from me.”

She said it so casually, so matter-of-factly, that for a moment, you were stunned into silence. Then, as the absurdity of her words hit you, a laugh—small and hesitant—bubbled up from your chest. Minthara raised an eyebrow at you, her smile growing wider.

“There,” she said, releasing your chin and standing up. “That’s better. I would hate to think my lover had lost her sense of humor along with her sense of self.”

You wiped at your eyes, still feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you, but it was lighter now, less suffocating.

“You’re… really not upset about this?” you asked, your voice quiet but hopeful. Minthara sighed dramatically, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Upset? No. Mildly irritated that I wasn’t the one to receive the tadpole’s gifts? Perhaps.” She glanced down at you, her expression softening ever so slightly. “But I am not upset with you. You are still the person I chose, the person I… care for. And that will not change, no matter what happens.”

Her words, though delivered with her usual edge, sent a wave of relief washing over you. You hadn’t even realized how much you had been fearing her rejection, her disgust, until this moment. But here she was, standing before you, fierce and unwavering as ever, ready to stand by your side.

“Now,” she said, reaching down and pulling you to your feet with surprising gentleness, “you will stop this nonsense and come out of this tent. There are battles to be fought, plans to be made, and you will not do either from in here.”

You hesitated for a moment, still feeling the lingering fear, but Minthara’s steady presence bolstered you. She wasn’t going to let you fall, not like this.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The campfire crackled softly as the evening air settled around you, a chill that you barely noticed compared to the storm of emotions raging inside. You sat a little ways from the others, staring blankly at your hands—the faint glow of the Astral-Touched Tadpole marking your skin, a constant reminder of your failure. No matter how hard you had fought, how desperately you had tried to resist, it hadn’t been enough. The tadpole had taken root, and now your body had begun to change against your will.

Your fingers trembled as you traced the strange, glowing veins that marked your skin. It felt wrong. You felt wrong. There was something unnatural about it, something that made you fear that this was only the beginning. What if the changes continued? What if you lost yourself entirely, became some mindless thrall, or worse—a monster?

You tried to push the thoughts away, but they kept coming, each more terrifying than the last. The fear settled like a weight in your chest, heavy and suffocating. And then there was her—Lae'zel. The words she had yelled at you echoed in your mind, sharp and cutting.

"You failed! You should have been stronger!" she had spat earlier, frustration and anger evident in her eyes.

She hadn’t meant it, not really, but it had stung. You had wanted to be strong. You had tried. But it wasn’t enough. Now, with the glowing marks on your body, you wondered if she would even want to stay with you. Lae’zel was fierce, a warrior of unwavering conviction. How could she look at you the same, knowing you had succumbed to the very thing she feared?

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear her approach at first, the sound of her boots crunching on the dirt drowned out by your racing mind. It wasn’t until she stood right beside you that you glanced up, startled.

“Lae'zel…” you murmured, your voice raw with emotion.

Her expression was unreadable, her sharp gaze fixed on you. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the tension between you palpable. Then, to your surprise, Lae'zel crouched down beside you, her eyes scanning your face before they fell to the glowing marks on your skin.

“I…” Lae’zel hesitated, something unfamiliar in her tone—something softer than you were used to. “I was wrong.”

You blinked, the words not quite registering at first. Lae’zel, so strong, so sure of herself, admitting she was wrong? It was almost impossible to believe.

She continued, her voice low and almost hesitant. “I lashed out at you earlier. I should not have. It was not your failure alone. It was mine as well. I should have fought harder for you—for us. I should have been by your side.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you quickly looked away, not wanting her to see. The raw vulnerability in her voice only made the emotions you were trying to suppress come rushing to the surface.

“I tried, Lae’zel,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I tried so hard… but it wasn’t enough. Now, I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’m scared.”

Lae’zel’s eyes softened as she reached out, her hand hovering above yours for a moment before she gently took it in her own. Her grip was firm but careful, like she was afraid you might break.

“I know,” she said softly, surprising you once more with the gentleness of her tone. “And I am sorry. I should not have shouted. I let my fear and my anger control me. I feared losing you, and I lashed out.”

Her thumb stroked over the back of your hand, her touch grounding you in the moment. You could feel the warmth of her hand, the strength behind it, and it was enough to calm some of the panic swirling in your chest.

“I do not care what changes have taken place,” Lae’zel continued, her voice steady now. “You are still you. You are still the warrior I fell in love with. That will not change.”

“But what if I change?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “What if I become something… something terrible? What if I lose myself?”

Lae’zel frowned, her brows furrowing as she considered your words. For a moment, you thought she might brush off your fears, tell you to be stronger, but instead, she surprised you yet again.

“If that happens,” she said slowly, “I will be here. I will stand by your side, no matter what. I will fight for you, just as I always have.”

You looked up at her, tears brimming in your eyes. “Even if I… even if I become something monstrous?”

Lae’zel’s grip on your hand tightened. “Even then,” she said firmly. “I will not abandon you. You are mine, and I do not abandon what is mine.”

Her words sent a wave of warmth through you, and for the first time since the changes had started, you felt a small flicker of hope. Lae’zel was many things—fierce, headstrong, relentless—but she was also loyal. And in that moment, you knew that no matter what happened, she would not let you face it alone. You let out a shaky breath, the weight in your chest lifting just a little.

“I’m sorry too,” you whispered. “I should have been stronger. I should have fought harder.”

Lae’zel shook her head. “There is no shame in what has happened,” she said firmly. “We cannot control everything. But we can fight. And we will fight this, together.”

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, your hand still held tightly in hers. Then, Lae’zel gently pulled you closer, wrapping her arms around you in a rare display of tenderness. You buried your face in her shoulder, letting the tears you had been holding back finally fall.

“I will not let you go,” Lae’zel whispered, her voice fierce and full of conviction. “No matter what happens, I will not let you go.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at your reflection in the small, cracked mirror. Your skin had begun to shimmer unnaturally, an eerie, faint glow—just the beginning of what the Astral-Touched Tadpole had done to you. The mental changes were subtle at first, an unsettling awareness in the back of your mind, and a creeping, hollow feeling that you weren’t entirely yourself anymore.

Your hands trembled as you touched your face, fingers ghosting over the surface of your skin, trying to find something familiar beneath the changes. But it was hard to recognize yourself. It was like looking at a stranger. You felt alien, disconnected, like something deep within was slipping away, and you were powerless to stop it. You had failed to stop the tadpole from sinking its claws into your mind, your body.

That’s when Shadowheart found you. She had been looking for you in the camp, worried after the most recent battle had left you drained and withdrawn. The flap of the tent opened quietly, and her soft footsteps made their way toward you, but you couldn’t look at her. You couldn’t bear to see the concern in her eyes, the worry that you might be slipping away from her.

Her voice was gentle, yet full of that quiet strength you’d always admired in her.

“Hey… there you are. I’ve been looking for you.” She paused, noticing the way you were hunched over, staring at the mirror like it held all the answers to what was happening to you. “What’s wrong?”

You bit your lip, trying to hold it together, but your body betrayed you, a shudder running through you as you finally whispered, “It’s changing me.”

Shadowheart’s brow furrowed, her eyes scanning your reflection before they softened with understanding. She stepped closer, kneeling beside you. Her hand, cool and soothing, gently rested on your arm. “What do you mean?”

You turned to her, your voice shaking as you spoke, “I couldn’t stop it, Shadowheart. The tadpole—it’s changing me, inside and out. I feel… different. I don’t know how to fight this. I’m scared that I’ll lose myself, that I’ll become something—something monstrous.”

Her eyes darkened with emotion as she listened, the concern you had feared now apparent in her gaze. But instead of recoiling or showing the panic you expected, Shadowheart’s expression softened. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she reached out, cradling your face in her hands, her thumb brushing against your cheek as if to ground you, to keep you tethered to her.

“You’re not going to become a monster,” she said softly, her voice steady and firm. “I won’t let that happen. You’re still you, no matter what that damn tadpole tries to do.”

Tears stung your eyes as you shook your head, unable to believe her. “But what if I’m not? What if it gets worse? What if I… lose control? What if I hurt you or the others?”

Shadowheart’s grip on your face tightened just slightly, her determination radiating through every word. “Then I’ll be there to stop it. But I don’t think it’ll come to that. You’ve always been stronger than you realize. I know you’re scared, and I know this is… horrifying. But you’re still in control. You still have a choice.”

Her words felt like a lifeline, something to hold on to as the panic and despair threatened to overwhelm you. You leaned into her touch, eyes searching hers for some glimmer of hope.

“How can you be so sure?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

Shadowheart smiled softly, a hint of sadness in her eyes but also fierce conviction. “Because I know you. I’ve seen you fight—against impossible odds, against your own fears. And you’ve won every time. You’re not going to let this tadpole define you. You’re stronger than it.”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak, but her words eased some of the tension in your chest. You wanted to believe her so badly, but the changes… the changes felt like they were happening faster than you could adapt to them. And you were terrified of waking up one day and not recognizing the person you’d become.

Seeing the turmoil still churning within you, Shadowheart leaned closer, pressing her forehead gently against yours, her breath warm against your skin. “I’m not going to let you go through this alone. Whatever happens, we’ll face it together. I’m not leaving you, no matter what this tadpole tries to do.”

The warmth of her touch, the steadiness in her voice—it was enough to pull you out of your spiral, if only for a moment. You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath as the weight of her promise settled over you. She wouldn’t abandon you. She was here, beside you, even in the face of something so terrifying.

You opened your eyes, finding hers filled with a fierce love that took your breath away. “But… what if I’m not me anymore?”

Shadowheart smiled, a gentle, loving smile that melted the fear just a little more.

“You’ll always be you. No matter how much this tadpole tries to twist things, the person I love is still in there.” She brushed her fingers through your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear before whispering, “And I’m going to remind you of that every day if I have to.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, but it wasn’t entirely from fear anymore. There was comfort in her words, in her presence. You rested your head against her shoulder, your body finally relaxing, if only slightly, as you let yourself lean into her.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you admitted, your voice small and vulnerable.

Shadowheart’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as she whispered, “You won’t. I’m right here.”

And for the first time since you felt the tadpole’s dark influence clawing at your mind, you believed her. You weren’t alone in this. And with Shadowheart by your side, maybe—just maybe—you could hold on to who you were.

As she held you, her hands gently stroking your back, you closed your eyes and let the warmth of her love, her strength, soothe the fear that had been gripping you for so long. You didn’t know what the future held, but you knew that with her, you wouldn’t face it alone. And that was enough—for now, it was enough.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

You sat alone at the edge of the camp, knees drawn to your chest, staring at the darkening horizon with a hollow feeling in your chest. The weight of the changes coursing through your body was too much to bear. It wasn’t just the physical transformation—the shimmering glow on your skin, the subtle shift in your senses—but the constant nagging feeling that something else was shifting inside you, something more sinister. The Astral-Touched Tadpole had burrowed into you, and you had failed to stop it. You felt its presence like a growing shadow, threatening to consume everything you were.

Jaheira had been keeping an eye on you all evening. She was never one for dramatic displays of affection, but her eyes often lingered on you when she thought you didn’t notice. You loved her for her strength, her pragmatism, but right now, the fear gripping your chest made you feel like a fragile shell of yourself. You were scared that you’d lose the person you were, that the tadpole would twist your mind, your soul, into something monstrous.

You hadn’t said a word to anyone about it, not even her. But Jaheira knew.

She approached you quietly, her footsteps sure but gentle, the kind of presence that didn’t need to make itself known. She settled beside you, her back straight and her hands resting casually on her lap. For a while, she didn’t say anything, simply sitting in the silence of the camp, the crackling of the fire in the background. The quiet companionship was comforting, but it wasn’t enough to ease the storm raging inside you.

After a moment, you spoke, your voice thick with the weight of your fear. “It’s changing me, Jaheira.” You couldn’t meet her eyes, couldn’t bear to see her reaction. “I’m not who I was… I don’t know what I’m becoming.”

Jaheira remained quiet for a beat, her expression unreadable, but you could feel her gaze on you. Finally, she let out a long breath, a mixture of calm and exasperation.

“You are letting this defeat you,” she said plainly, her voice steady but not unkind. You blinked, surprised by the bluntness of her words.

“What?” You turned to face her, finding no trace of pity in her eyes, only the pragmatic strength you had always admired. She wasn’t coddling you.

“I’ve watched you handle impossible situations before this,” Jaheira continued, her tone even. “You’ve faced down terrors that would leave others quaking, and now you sit here, mired in self-pity over something you cannot change.” Her gaze softened just slightly. “Dry your tears.”

Her words cut through your haze of fear, sharp and direct. You looked down, wiping at your face, realizing that tears had indeed begun to fall, though you hadn’t noticed. But the tears weren’t just out of fear—they were out of frustration. Frustration with yourself, with the situation, with the loss of control.

“I don’t know what to do,” you admitted, your voice small, but it held the weight of the turmoil you were feeling.

Jaheira shifted, her hand finding its way to your shoulder, her grip firm and grounding.

“You do what you’ve always done,” she said firmly. “You fight.”

You glanced at her, seeing the steady resolve in her eyes, the kind of resolve that had kept her alive through countless battles and tragedies. Jaheira was someone who never let herself be weighed down by the things she couldn’t change. She had learned to adapt, to find strength in what remained.

“But what if I’m not strong enough this time?” you whispered, the vulnerability in your voice clear. Jaheira tilted her head, a small, wry smile pulling at the corner of her lips.

“You think strength is about not being afraid? That it’s about being invincible?” She shook her head, her hand squeezing your shoulder. “Strength is about pushing forward, even when you’re terrified. It’s about choosing who you are, no matter what the world or… some tadpole,” she said with a slight scoff, “tries to make of you.”

You let out a shaky breath, the weight of her words settling over you. She was right. It wasn’t about the changes or the fear. It was about who you chose to be, even when faced with something as horrific as the tadpole’s corruption. You had always fought for control over your fate, and this was no different. Jaheira leaned back slightly, watching you as you absorbed her words.

“You’re not going to lose yourself,” she said softly, her voice holding a rare tenderness that she reserved for moments like this. “Not while I’m here. Not while we are here.” Her hand moved to your chin, turning your face to meet her eyes. “But you need to stop wallowing in fear and start fighting back.”

Your chest tightened at the raw honesty in her gaze, the way she looked at you like you were still that same person she had fallen in love with, not some twisted creature on the verge of losing themselves. And in that moment, you realized that Jaheira wouldn’t let you fall. Not without a fight.

You managed a small smile, though it was shaky.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, the truth weighing heavy on your chest, but there was a shift in you now, a flicker of the determination that Jaheira had always seen in you.

“I know,” she said softly, her thumb brushing your cheek briefly before she pulled back, her eyes returning to their usual calm. “Fear is natural. But it doesn’t define you.”

You nodded, the knot of fear still there, but loosened by her words. The changes might be out of your control, but you still had a choice in how you faced them. And with Jaheira by your side, grounding you, reminding you of who you were, maybe—just maybe—you wouldn’t lose yourself after all.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. Jaheira gave you a small nod, her lips quirking into a slight smile.

“You don’t need to thank me,” she said, leaning in close enough that her forehead almost touched yours. “Just don’t make me repeat myself.”

Despite everything, you let out a quiet laugh, a tiny spark of hope returning to you. You weren’t alone in this. And with Jaheira’s unflinching pragmatism, her unwavering belief in you—you knew that somehow, you would find a way to face this challenge. Together.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

The campfire crackled gently, its warm glow a stark contrast to the cold dread sinking in your chest. You sat off to the side, hugging your knees to your chest, feeling the weight of the changes coursing through your body—the changes you hadn’t been able to stop. You ran a hand along your skin, now marked with the faint, shimmering lines of the Astral-Touched Tadpole’s influence.

You could hear the others moving about in the camp, their laughter and conversation, but it felt distant, disconnected from you. You were afraid—afraid that this was only the beginning, that soon you wouldn’t recognize yourself. What if you became something monstrous, a shell of who you once were? The thought twisted in your stomach, gnawing at you.

And then there was Gale.

He had been watching you for some time, his sharp mind always attuned to the subtle shifts in your mood. Gale could sense when you were withdrawn, and tonight, the heaviness in your heart was undeniable. He approached quietly, his steps soft but deliberate, and sat beside you without a word, his shoulder brushing against yours in a gesture of comfort.

You didn’t look at him. The tears that had been threatening to spill over finally did, a few silent drops trailing down your cheeks.

“I couldn’t stop it, Gale,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “It’s changing me. I can feel it. I… I’m scared I’m going to become something else, something awful.”

Gale’s expression softened instantly. Without hesitation, he reached out and gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing away a tear that clung to your cheek.

“You’re not becoming something monstrous,” he said softly, his voice filled with such tenderness it made your chest ache. “You are still you, the person I love, the person who has faced down far worse than this.”

You swallowed hard, trying to fight back the swell of emotion in your throat. “But what if I lose myself? What if I… what if I can’t control it? I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Gale’s brow furrowed slightly as he shook his head. He shifted closer to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest, holding you tightly.

“You could never hurt me,” he whispered, his lips brushing the top of your head. “Not you. Not the person I know. You’re stronger than this, and you’ll fight it. You always fight.”

You felt his heartbeat, steady and strong, grounding you in a way you hadn’t realized you needed. But the fear lingered, the doubt gnawing at your resolve.

“I don’t feel strong right now,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “I feel like I’m slipping away, bit by bit.”

Gale’s grip on you tightened, his arms encircling you completely as if he could shield you from your own thoughts. He leaned back slightly, gently guiding your face up so you could meet his gaze. His eyes were warm and filled with a kind of love that made your heart stutter.

“Then let me be strong for you,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “Let me remind you of who you are.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, then another to your temple, and one on each of your cheeks. Each kiss felt like a promise, a reminder that you weren’t alone in this battle. That he would be with you every step of the way.

“You are fierce, courageous, and filled with so much light,” Gale murmured, his lips ghosting over your skin. “You’ve saved me more times than I can count. You’ve faced down gods, monsters, and even your own fears. This… this tadpole, this thing inside you? It doesn’t stand a chance against your will.”

His words were like a balm to the turmoil inside you, but still, the fear lingered.

“But what if I can’t…?” you started, but Gale hushed you gently, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer.

“You can, and you will,” he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for doubt. “And when you doubt yourself, know that I will be here, loving you through every moment of it. Every inch of you, no matter what happens.”

You let out a shaky breath, resting your forehead against his chest as he held you tightly.

“I don’t deserve you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Gale let out a soft, affectionate laugh, his hand tracing soothing patterns on your back. “Nonsense. It is I who doesn’t deserve you. But I am hopelessly in love with you, so I suppose we’ll have to settle for being perfectly undeserving of one another.”

Despite everything, a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. Gale always had a way of making you feel like you were worth more than your fears, more than the darkness threatening to consume you.

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes again, his own gaze brimming with affection.

“I love every part of you,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek again. “No matter what changes, no matter what happens, you will always be you. And I will always love you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

The night sky hung heavy above the camp, stars flickering like distant dreams far beyond your grasp. You sat alone by the campfire, legs tucked close to your chest, staring into the flames as they danced, casting fleeting shadows on your face. The warmth from the fire did little to soothe the cold fear twisting inside you.

You could feel the changes. The shimmering lines that traced over your skin, the faint glow of something unnatural stirring beneath. The Astral-Touched Tadpole had done its work, sinking its claws into your body, warping it—warping you. You fought so hard to resist it, to stop it. But you had failed. And now, the fear gnawed at your heart, whispering that you were losing yourself. That soon, you wouldn’t be you anymore. What would you become?

A quiet sound drew your attention, a soft footstep in the grass. You didn’t need to look to know who it was—Astarion. He was always so careful with his movements, every step deliberate, even when he wasn’t trying to be quiet. He had noticed your absence from the group, and of course, he had come looking for you.

“Brooding by the fire, darling? You’re starting to sound like me,” Astarion teased, his voice warm with amusement. But there was an undercurrent of something else—concern, though he would never show it outright. He moved closer, his footsteps light as always, and crouched down beside you, his sharp eyes searching your face.

You turned your gaze away from him, staring down at your hands instead. The shimmering lines on your skin caught the firelight, making you feel like a stranger in your own body.

“I’m not in the mood for jokes right now, Astarion,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Astarion’s brow furrowed, and he shifted his weight, sitting down fully beside you. He tilted his head slightly, his expression softening as he took in the tension in your frame.

“What’s going on? You’ve been distant ever since…” He trailed off, his eyes flickering to the faint glow beneath your skin. “Since the tadpole’s changes started to show.”

You swallowed hard, fighting the rising lump in your throat. “I didn’t want this,” you said, voice trembling. “I tried so hard to stop it, but now… I don’t even recognize myself. It’s changing me, Astarion. I can feel it.” You finally turned to meet his gaze, tears threatening to spill over. “What if I lose myself? What if I become something… monstrous?”

The words hung heavy between you, and for a long moment, Astarion just stared at you, as though trying to comprehend the weight of your fears. You looked away again, unable to hold his gaze, your hands trembling in your lap.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to leave,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “If you can’t handle… whatever I’m becoming, I would understand.”

Astarion blinked, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Leave?” he repeated, the word sounding almost foreign on his lips. “Why in the Hells would I leave you?”

You glanced at him, surprised by the edge in his voice. Astarion’s expression shifted, something between confusion and hurt flashing in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, darling, but did I miss something? You think I would leave you because of this?” He gestured vaguely toward the shimmering lines on your skin. “This… tadpole nonsense?”

“I—” You faltered, the words catching in your throat.

Astarion scoffed lightly, but it wasn’t in his usual mocking tone. It was more… exasperated, as if the idea of leaving you was so absurd that he didn’t know how to process it.

“First of all, let me make one thing clear—I am not leaving you. Not now, not ever.” He leaned in closer, his crimson eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart stutter. “Do you honestly think I would abandon you after everything we’ve been through?”

He cupped your face gently, his cool fingers brushing against your skin with surprising tenderness.

“You did this for me,” he said softly, his voice laced with emotion. “For all of us. You fought this fight because you didn’t want to lose any of us, because you wanted to protect us. And now, you think I’d just… walk away?” Astarion let out a soft, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. “You’ve clearly forgotten who you’re dealing with, love.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “But what if I become something else?” you asked, your voice shaking. “What if I can’t control it? What if I lose myself?”

Astarion’s expression softened, and he leaned in even closer, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Then I’ll be there to remind you of who you are,” he whispered, his voice so tender it made your chest ache. “I won’t let you forget. You’re stronger than this. You always have been.”

You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath. His words soothed the fear gnawing at your heart, but still, the uncertainty lingered.

“I’m scared,” you admitted quietly.

Astarion pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his thumb brushing away a tear that had slipped down your cheek.

“I know,” he said softly. “But you don’t have to go through this alone. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

A small, wry smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Besides,” he added, his tone shifting back to its usual playful lilt, “you’re still devastatingly attractive. Astral-tadpole glow and all. If anything, it adds a bit of mystery, don’t you think?”

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you, the tension in your chest easing just a little.

“I don’t feel very attractive right now,” you muttered.

Astarion rolled his eyes dramatically. “Nonsense. You’re the most captivating creature I’ve ever laid eyes on, and I’ve lived for over two centuries.” He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your temple, lingering there for a moment. “You’re still you, no matter what happens. And I love you. Tadpole and all.”

You smiled softly, the weight of your fears still there, but less suffocating with Astarion by your side. He always knew how to bring a bit of light into the darkest moments, and tonight was no exception.

As you leaned into his embrace, letting him hold you close, you realized that maybe—just maybe—you weren’t as lost as you feared. Not with Astarion beside you, reminding you of who you were, and loving you through it all.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

The camp was quiet, the crackling of the fire barely loud enough to drown out the swirl of emotions twisting in your chest. You sat by the fire, knees pulled close to your chest, staring blankly at your hands. The faint shimmer of the astral-touched lines that now marked your skin caught the firelight, making you feel like a stranger in your own body. The Astral-Touched Tadpole had done its work. You had tried so hard to fight it, to stop the transformation, but in the end, it had seeped into your very being.

You felt your heart clench at the thought. What were you becoming? Was this who you were now? Your skin glowed faintly, the unnatural light reminding you of your failure. A tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away, though it didn’t stop more from following. You tried to steady your breathing, but the fear was all-consuming—fear of losing yourself, of becoming something monstrous.

A familiar voice broke through the storm of your thoughts.

“Hey, there you are.” Wyll’s voice was soft, concerned, as he approached. His boots crunched lightly on the grass as he stopped just a few steps away. “I’ve been looking for you.”

You didn’t look up, still staring at your hands, at the changes you couldn’t undo.

“I don’t think you want to be here, Wyll,” you murmured, your voice low and trembling. Wyll knelt down beside you, his eyes full of concern.

“Why would you say that, love?” he asked, reaching out to gently brush his fingers against your arm.

You flinched slightly at the touch, though not from discomfort. You were scared—scared of what you were turning into.

“I failed,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I couldn’t stop it. The tadpole… it’s changing me. What if I become something terrible, something monstrous? What if I lose myself?”

Wyll’s expression softened, and he carefully reached for your hand, gently turning it over in his as he examined the glowing lines that marked your skin. He didn’t recoil, didn’t flinch or look at you with fear in his eyes. Instead, he gave you a small, understanding smile.

“You’re still you,” he said softly, his voice full of warmth. “These changes don’t define you.”

You shook your head, tears welling up again. “But what if they do? What if I lose control, Wyll? What if I forget who I am? I don’t… I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Wyll’s fingers tightened gently around yours, grounding you in the moment.

“You won’t lose yourself,” he said firmly. “You’re too strong for that. Too stubborn, too kind, too good to let that happen.”

You tried to pull your hand away, guilt and fear still clawing at you, but Wyll wouldn’t let you go. His grip was gentle but unyielding.

“Look at me,” he said softly.

Reluctantly, you met his gaze, your vision blurry with unshed tears.

“You are the bravest person I know,” Wyll continued, his voice unwavering. “You’ve faced impossible odds and never backed down. You’ve fought for the people you love, for strangers, for me. And nothing—nothing—can take that away from you. Not even this tadpole.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks, and Wyll wiped them away with his thumb, his touch tender and full of love.

“I’ve seen you at your strongest and your most vulnerable, and I love every part of you,” Wyll said, his voice soft but full of conviction. “This doesn’t change that. It doesn’t change you. You are still the person I fell in love with—the person I will always love.”

You shook your head, still feeling the weight of your fear pressing down on you. “But… what if I lose control? What if I forget who I am?”

Wyll stood, still holding your hand, and gently tugged you to your feet.

“Then I’ll be there to remind you,” he said, his voice warm and reassuring. “I’ll be there every step of the way. You won’t go through this alone.”

Before you could protest, Wyll pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you as he held you against his chest.

“Dance with me,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

You blinked, surprised by the request. “Wyll, I… I don’t think…”

He gently swayed, his hands guiding you into the rhythm. “Trust me,” he murmured. “Just let me hold you for a while.”

You hesitated for a moment, but the warmth of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart against yours, was too comforting to resist. Slowly, you let yourself relax into his arms, your head resting against his shoulder as he swayed you gently in time with the soft crackle of the campfire.

“There you go,” Wyll whispered, his voice soothing. “Just breathe. Just focus on me.”

He twirled you gently, his hand at the small of your back guiding you effortlessly. His warmth, his presence, was enough to momentarily quiet the storm raging inside you. It was as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of you, the worries and fears momentarily forgotten in the comfort of his arms.

“You’re not alone in this, love,” Wyll murmured against your hair. “I’m with you. Always.”

You let out a shaky breath, your tears drying as you leaned into him. “I’m scared, Wyll,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” he said softly, his hand rubbing soothing circles against your back. “But I’m not going anywhere. We’ll face this together.”

For a while, you just let him hold you, the gentle sway of his movements easing the tension in your body. The fear still lingered, but it wasn’t as overwhelming now, not with Wyll by your side. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to be lost in the moment, in the warmth of his embrace and the quiet comfort of his words.

As the fire crackled softly in the background, Wyll pressed a gentle kiss to your temple.

“No matter what happens,” he whispered, “you will always be you to me. And I will always love you. Tadpole or not, you’re still my heart.”

You smiled faintly, your tears finally ceasing. For the first time since the changes began, you felt a flicker of hope, a glimmer of peace. And as you danced in the quiet of the night, held safe in Wyll’s arms, you knew that whatever came next, you wouldn’t face it alone.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

The night was calm, but you couldn't find peace. You sat by the campfire, your knees drawn to your chest as you stared into the flickering flames, lost in the storm of your thoughts. The Astral-Touched Tadpole's presence in your body was a constant reminder of your failure—a failure to resist, to protect yourself from the changes it had begun to inflict on you. It had taken root, and no matter how hard you had fought, the battle had been lost.

Your fingers traced the faint, glowing lines that now ran along your arms, marking you as something… different. Something you didn’t recognize, and that thought terrified you. It wasn’t just the changes in your body that unnerved you, but the fear of losing who you were—your sense of self, your mind.

And then there was Halsin.

His reaction had stung more than anything else. When you had first told him what had happened, the horror in his eyes had been unmistakable. He had pulled away from you, his usual warmth replaced with cold, silent shock. His words were harsh and broke your heart. You had done it to save the group, to save him, and yet he had recoiled, reprimanded. That rejection made the weight in your chest all the heavier.

You hadn’t spoken to him since.

Now, as the fire crackled softly before you, you felt the loneliness settle in—a gnawing emptiness where Halsin’s presence should have been. You had always been able to count on him, his steady presence and his comforting words. But now, in the one moment you needed him most, he was absent.

A faint rustle of leaves caught your attention, and you glanced up to see Halsin approaching the campfire. His broad frame was silhouetted against the trees, his expression unreadable as he walked toward you. For a moment, your heart clenched, a mix of hope and fear swirling in your chest. Was he here to turn away from you again? To tell you that you had made a mistake too great to forgive?

He stopped a few steps away from you, his eyes locking with yours. There was a heaviness to his gaze, a sorrow that mirrored your own. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you thick with unspoken tension. Then, Halsin knelt beside you, lowering himself to sit on the ground, close but not too close.

"Forgive me," he said quietly, his voice laced with regret. "I reacted poorly. I let my fear guide my actions, and in doing so, I hurt you."

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling into your chest. You had expected anger or disappointment—anything but this quiet admission of guilt.

"I… I didn’t know what to do," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I tried so hard to resist, but it was too much. And now…" Your gaze fell to your hands again, tracing the glowing veins that ran beneath your skin. "Now I don’t even know what I am anymore. I’m scared, Halsin."

He reached out then, his large hand covering yours gently. The warmth of his touch was a balm to the fear that had been clawing at your heart.

"I know," he said softly. "I can see the pain this has caused you, and I am sorry for adding to it. When I first saw what the tadpole had done, I… I was overwhelmed. It reminded me of the darkness I have seen, the corruption I have fought against for so long. But you are not corrupted. You are still you."

"How can you be sure?" you asked, your voice trembling. "What if I change? What if I become something… monstrous?"

Halsin’s grip on your hand tightened, firm but reassuring. "You are stronger than you realize," he said, his deep voice steady and filled with conviction. "This tadpole may have marked your body, but it does not define who you are. You are more than this—more than what has been done to you. And I will be with you, no matter what comes. I swear it."

His words brought a lump to your throat, and tears you had been holding back began to well up in your eyes.

"You… you pulled away," you whispered, the hurt still raw in your chest. "It felt like you didn’t want me anymore."

Halsin’s expression softened, a deep sadness crossing his face.

"I pulled away because I was afraid," he admitted. "Not of you, but of what I might lose if I couldn’t protect you. I have seen so much pain, so much loss, and I couldn’t bear the thought of watching the person I love slip away into something beyond my reach. But I see now that by pulling away, I was failing you in a different way."

You felt the tears spill over then, and you lowered your head, your shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Halsin shifted closer, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you into his strong embrace. You buried your face in his chest, the scent of earth and wildflowers familiar and comforting.

"You haven’t lost me," you choked out through the tears. "I’m still here, Halsin… I’m still me. But I don’t know how long I can hold on to that."

Halsin held you tighter, his chin resting on the top of your head.

"Then I will help you hold on," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I will be here, every step of the way. You will not face this alone. I promise you, I will never abandon you."

His words wrapped around your heart like a lifeline, and for the first time since the tadpole had taken root, you felt a flicker of hope. Halsin wasn’t leaving. He wasn’t pulling away. He was staying, standing by your side just as he had promised from the beginning.

After a long moment, you pulled back slightly, wiping at your tear-streaked face. Halsin’s eyes were full of love and warmth as he cupped your cheek in his hand.

"You are not alone in this," he reminded you gently. "We are stronger together. Always."

You nodded, feeling the weight in your chest begin to lift, just a little.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice still shaky but steadier than before. "For not giving up on me."

Halsin smiled softly, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "I could never give up on you," he said. "You are my heart. We will face whatever comes, together."

As you leaned into his embrace once more, the warmth of the fire and the steadiness of Halsin’s presence soothed your fears.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

ooof a little hurt/comfort for y'all, hope you guys enjoyed it ! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[octopotto]

Brain Rot: TWST Cast with Saitama! Reader

OCTO NOTE: College has been absolutely brutal. These headcanons were worked on bit by bit these past few months :(

I saw some TWST fics that used pre-exsiting characters to based the MC off of and I wanted to try w/ one of my favourite characters.

WARNINGS: NOT PROOF-READ, OOC Behaviour, this is so cringe but very self-indulgent, mc is the most sane person in this universe, you decide if mc is bald or not, yandere if you squint hard enough.

SPOILERS FOR: TWISTED WONDERLAND

**The reader will ALWAYS be Gender-Neutral! 

———————————-••———————————

Life at Night Raven College would be much more peaceful if MC had Saitama’s strength lol

Problems would've been solved quicker as well.

At first glance, you don’t seem to be a threat.

To most, you look like a regular, magic-less human on the outside.

And that’s what makes you so dangerous.

Don’t fuck around and overblot unless you have a death wish.

The Overblot crew definitely had one when MC swung their fist at them.

The whole prologue would be shortened.

Fun fact: You accidentally put too much force on the coffin door to get out, thus smashing Grim in the process while he was prying it open :D

Grim, the Ramshackle ghost, and Crowley were the first group to witness your impressive strength.

And by impressive, they mean terrifying.

To Crowley and Grim at least.

The ghost were shocked but very much amused after a couple moments.

God knows how the Ramshackle Dorm was still in one piece after that.

Grim is very happy to have a strong minion to protect him

Just don’t hurt him like you did with the ghost pls. And the door lol

Crowley would be most likely absolutely be afraid and made a mental note to keep track of you. 

Especially since you were almost successful to killing him in his ghost form. He’s making sure that Ramshackle gets fixed quicker.

Crowley: “Great Sevens… How do they have such monstrous strength... This stowaway is just a magicaless human! My…what have I gotten myself into?? *sobs* OH IF I WASN’T SUCH A KIND AND GENEROUS SOUL I WOULD NOT LET THIS TYPE OF BEHAVIOUR BE PRESENT ON MY CAMPUS” *more obnoxious sobbing*

You and Grim: 😶😐????

Despite scaring and almost killing the shit out of the Headmaster, you still start off as a janitor lol.

Fast forward to the Mine Incident with Ace, Deuce, and Grim—

You basically massacred that monster.

A monster that probably injured many Mages and Wizards

You destroyed it in one punch.

On that day, Ace reminded himself to never piss you off again. Ever.

He loves cherry pie, but would rather not become the filling itself, thanks.

Deuce probably was gawking at you after the shock.

Not in a bad way

But in a good way y'know?

But he’s too shy to ask for advice for now.

This is basically the start of Deuce idolizing you and your strength.

Brain Rot:

Ace, Deuce and Grim are your self-proclaimed bodyguards.

At least THEY like to think that they are.

Listen, they know that you are MORE THE CAPABLE protecting yourself in fights or in any physical confrontations.

But that’s it.

You’re basically shit at everything else.

From completing your assignments to even showing up to class, it seems like in the trio's eyes that you NEED THEM to take care of you. You all are like family now!

So they all make an effort to help you out when you need it.

No really, if you keep forgetting to submit that one potion essay that Crewel keeps smacking your shiny ass head to complete, you’re going to get left behind.

 They’re more like secretaries than bodyguards lol.

The post-overblot Spelldrive tournament was an absolute nightmare.

Well, at least for everyone but Ace, Deuce, and Grim.

They were GLOATING about how they were in the lead and challenged anyone to try and top them like the smug, over-confident assholes they are.

The only reason why they were in the lead was because of you. Simple as that.

The Savannaclaw gang put up a good fight

For the first 10 minutes in the match.

All Leona could do at that moment was strategize how not to get his and his teammate’s heads chopped off by the disc you kept throwing at them.

You are quite fond of Ruggie

More specifically: you were fond of Ruggie’s haggling skills.

If were had a choice to trade your god-like strength for his haggling skills and techniques, you wouldn’t hesitate one bit.

And y’know it wouldn’t be Ruggie if he didn’t take advantage of this. He would offer you advice and tell you if theres a huge sale going on at a near-by grocery store if you promise to lend him a hand whenever he needed it.

You were so tempted to say no

Not because he was shady and overall untrustworthy

You’re just lazy

This is his way to spend more time with you but he would never admit that out-loud.

If your MC is bald, instead of Floyd squeezing you, he will smack and ‘dribble’ your head as if it was basketball.

Jamil and Ace especially are amused.

God forbid you ever get a bad tan on the top of your scalp

You will NEVER hear to end of it.

Floyd also is your biggest bully.

jk but not really

Yeah he knows that you could probably kill him with a gentle tap

But when did that ever stop him?

He mainly does it because he wants to see your reactions

You’re so plain looking and your nonchalant voice and facial expressions do not help as well.

But remember only Floyd HIMSELF can do those things to you, okay? Only him.

If he ever finds out that some random NPC student was doing the same thing to you, You’re going to be finding that NPC tossed in a corner somewhere with almost all their joints mangled.

You like how generous Kalim is.

You probably helped him fan the fire off his ass in the ceremony

He’s was incredibly thankful and was able to remember what you looked like.

I mean, you literally saved him!

How could he not remember you?

You don't remember him but let’s not go there lol

Because you saved Kalim from being cooked, he always makes sure that you had enough food for the month!

He would practically beg, like BEG Jamil to make extras so you won’t go hungry.

Especially after experiencing what type of living conditions you were dealing with in Book 5.

Poor Jamil, not only is he working overtime for Kalim, but technically serving food for the person who ruined his plans back in Book 4.

Jamil packing food for you by Kalim’s request: 😡😡😡

totally did not try to poison your food on several occasions

Kalim also begs Jamil to let him deliver the food to you.

He can’t help it! He really enjoys seeing you happy when you receive something from him and Jamil.

You never complain about.

Free food = Saving money.

I mean, if you're being gifted something, why be rude and deny it?

Some students say that you were taking advantage of Kalim because of how easily you accept his gifts without anything in return.

And y'know they could be right

But Kalim doesn't mind.

As long as you're happy, he's happy :)

In Vil’s eyes, you are an enigma. 

It’s like he can’t wrap his pretty little head around on how he feels about you.

On one hand, other than your god-like strength, you’re nothing special. When he first saw you he only disregarded you as another potato that’s not worth his precious time and effort on.

But on the other hand, Vil sees you as a blank slate. Something that ASKING for him to put his smooth and perfectly manicured fingers on. Someone that needs his guidance and skills. 

He doesn’t care if you’re bald or have hair, it doesn’t derail him from the fact that despite you sticking out like a sore-thumb, you’re still so…plain looking.

You probably said some off-hand comment about how ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder’ to Vil and just walked off.

It might not meant anything to you

But it meant a lot to Vil.

When it came to the overblots and eventually Book 5, he felt as though he was in a spiral of questions that he himself must find the answers for.

And what were the questions that caused Vil’s current state of disarray about? You obviously.

He’s going mad

He can’t stand it.

You said that beauty is in the eye of the holder? Fine then.

He knows that he could do something for you. 

Something marvellous, something beautiful.

For you and himself. 

You had a new nickname for Malleus every time you guys end up running into eachother.

Malleus would always look forward to meeting you solely for the nicknames.

I believe that Saitama genuinely does not care enough to remember other people’s names that much

So that will be a trait for MC in this.

Malleus probably thinks this is a way humans show affection to each other.

In reality, you cannot for the life of you remember that weirdo's name.

Malleus: *Appears out of thin air in front of the MC*

Malleus: Greetings, Child of Man *smiles*

MC Thinking: ‘Why does this rando keep coming back? What was his name again?’

Malleus: *Anticipating their response with excitement*

MC: Uhhhh..

MC: Wassup…Horton? :D

Malleus: *Smiles at his new nickname*

It took a while for you to come up with a permanent nickname for him but he doesn't mind

In his eyes, it's your way of showing him how much you wanted to become closer companions.

Jack and Epel are always on your ass about “How to become stronger” and when you actually tell them the routine that you did at the beginning of your journey, they literally fell in disbelief.

They couldn’t believe it.

It was basically a simple workout routine 

Both still believe that you’re hiding the secret of how you got to your level of strength.

Thus, joint workouts became also a thing within the NRC Campus and you are the leader.

Not by choice however.

Jack, Epel, and everyone else involved were really curious as to how you train.

I mean, look at what you can do! And you’re not even a Mage!

The first meeting was terrible due to the fact you almost obliterated the school.

One flick and the gym could’ve been in shambles.

That’s why Jack and Epel made sure to do it somewhere far and secluded.

And even then, you still created a lot of damage with minimal effort.

It’s incredible to those who look up to you.

Throughout the story, you gained some admiration and recognition along the way.

From Heartslaybul to Diasomnia, you unknowingly grab the admiration of those who either want to become stronger or see you as a hero. 

Some might say that they see you as the messiah who was sent to protect the school.

But let’s not go that far.

You wouldn’t notice anyways

In your eyes they're all a bunch of weirdos.

———————————-••———————————

OCTO NOTE: Hopefully you guys enjoyed these very terrible brain-rot headcanons. I always found Saitama’s character interesting so I wanted to try out something new. 

Again, I’ve been very busy so I can’t promise anything BUT I can say that there will be more Yandere FF7 fics coming soon! ;)

Thank you to everyone who enjoys my low-quality works! Hope you look forward to my new ones ❤️❤️

[treluna4]

Fan fic saved my life

TW: emotional abuse, coercion, control, intimidation, homelessness, psychological abuse, DV.

Today, I (through an attorney) served my abuser with a protection order. I entered the apartment I’ve been banned from for the last four years, took back what was rightfully mine, and left.

I’m free.

My life is mine again.

I never thought I would have to do something like this. Now that I have, I’ve come to realize that I’ve learned a lot of really hard life lessons from this fucked up experience. Here are a few of them:

What I’ve learned as a survivor of DV:

DV doesn’t just happen between family members or romantic partners. Your abuser can be a lifelong friend. Someone you have a shared history with. Someone who has helped you, supported you, loved you in the past.

Your abuser can be a disabled person.

Your abuser can have a chronic illness.

Your abuser can be financially dependent on you.

No abuser starts out that way. There’s a shift that happens over time, so gradually that it’s hard to know it’s happening until it’s too late.

My abuser gaslit the fuck out of me. She labeled me a monster, a villain, a sociopath, an abalist, because I didn’t empathize with her enough. No matter what I did, it was never enough for her. I was never enough.

And I believed her.

She convinced me that there was something deeply, inherently wrong with me. Something I must fix and change and grow from in order to be a good person again.

She convinced me she alone could fix those monstrous parts of me.

She convinced me that everyone else could see those parts too. That all my friends and family thought there was something deeply wrong with me. They just never said anything. Because I was an angry, violent person and they were all too scared to say anything. She reminded me, constantly, of all the ways which I was a failure.

Her relentless judgment and criticism changed me. It changed who I was and how I interacted with the world. I was scared of my own shadow. Scared of anyone in a position of authority. Terrified of ever doing anything wrong.

Trapped as I was in my circumstances, I became bitter and angry. Gone was the bright, happy person I’d been my entire life. It was wrong to be so happy, she said. No one is that happy all the time. It was time to grow the fuck up. Be an adult. And I agreed.

Caught up in my new mentality, I said things, did things, thought things that I will deeply regret for years to come. I was cold to people who didn’t deserve it. Rude for reasons I didn’t fully understand. I was trying to grow, just like she said. Trying to change. Convinced as I was that she was right. This is what it meant to be an adult. After all, no one is that happy all the time.

My newfound bitterness only proved her point. Of course I was a terrible person who never knew how to love people. Here’s the evidence! Obviously, what I thought was love had only ever been manipulation. She was right, after all. She was always right. I’d never truly loved anyone or anything.

I really was a monster.

It got to a point where I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror. I didn’t even want to look at my reflection. I didn’t want to face the broken shell of a person I’d become. I didn’t want to see what the rest of the world had always seen.

I stopped my spiritual practices. I didn’t want to face that uncomfortable truth that I was a failure. I was bad and wrong and terrible. So I hid the best parts of myself, to keep them away from the cruel person I really was.

I downplayed my queerness. I wore muted clothes and became a muted person. I fled from anything that might draw attention, anything that would warrant a comment. After all, she couldn’t attack something that no longer existed.

She made me question everything. Every single aspect of my life. She convinced me everything I’d ever known was a lie. I’d never actually done anything with a pure heart or good intentions. Everything I’ve ever done was a manipulation. A way to get everyone around me to do what I wanted them to. I was incapable of true, genuine love. What I felt was not love. It was a lie. Who I was, was nothing but a lie.

She told me I was a bad caregiver, and that I only ever made tough situations worse. She told me many times that I was emotionally unstable and should never be allowed to work with vulnerable populations. As someone who spent her life working with children and caring for others, this devastated me.

Despite all of this, she said she loved me. That she cared about me. She was simply telling me all of this for my own good, because it was her job to fix me. I had to stay with her, I had to continue to support her, until I could prove to her that I was mentally sound. Then and only then would she let me go. After all, she said, It wouldn’t be safe for her to let someone like me out in the world. It was her job to make sure I was healed first, so that I wouldn’t hurt anyone else the way I hurt her. That’s why I couldn’t leave her. I had to stay. I had to help her get better, since it was my fault she was ill in the first place. If I had been more emotionally stable, we wouldn’t have been in this situation and she wouldn’t have gotten hurt. So the only way out (for both of us) was for me to fundamentally change.

She constantly turned her abuse around on me. Whatever terrible things she said to me were justified. After all, she didn’t say anything worse to me than I once said to her. And since I obviously never cared about her, why should she care about me now? She was just matching my energy. Playing my game. I was actually the one controlling things here, and any misfortune was my fault, really. Any of my accomplishments were solely because of her, and all the work she put into making me a better person over the course of our decade + long friendship.

And I believed her. Always. Why wouldn't I? She helped me all those times before, right? Whenever I was at my lowest, she was the person I’d always turned to. She was always right back then, why should this time be any different? She was a good person. Kind. Brilliant. Not like anyone else is ever known. Surely that had to count for something.

Right?

Turns out, it’s not that simple. Just because someone helped you out before doesn’t mean they’re helping you out now.

If I could go back seven years, this is what I’d tell my 30-year-old self; fresh from a break-up. Lost. Scared. Vulnerable.

Write it down. Whatever she says, whatever she does, write it all down. You might not want to face it. You might not want to see how bad it really is, but write it down anyway.

A person who feels they have no control over their own life can find comfort in controlling yours.

No one ever anticipates finding themself in an abusive situation. There’s no planning for it or preparing for it. Even if you know the signs (and I knew all the signs), it can still happen to you.

If you don’t feel comfortable speaking up for yourself, if you can’t somehow say “no” to someone, it doesn’t mean you are a weak person, or that you’re doing anything wrong. It means you don’t feel safe around them.

Anything done “For your own good” rarely is.

You cannot be bullied into feeling empathy for someone. But that doesn’t mean you’re incapable of feeling empathy.

You are allowed to leave. You are not obligated to stay in a toxic situation, regardless of your past. And you are not a heartless monster for leaving someone, even if they are sick. There is nothing wrong with putting your health and safety above all else. That doesn’t make you selfish. That doesn’t make you a monster.

You’re allowed to be a full, entire person. You’re allowed to make mistakes. That doesn't mean you’re incompetent, or manipulative, or fucking ablist. It means you’re a person. A human being. And regardless of whatever mistakes you’ve made in the past, you don’t deserve to be treated this way.

We warn children about the dangers of keeping a secret. That doesn’t just apply to children. Do not keep her secrets. Do not keep her silence.

Isolation comes in many forms and each is toxic.

Do not isolate yourself. Talk to the people in your life. Let them in. Even if you think what you’re going through is not a big deal, even if you don’t wanna burden them. Even if you have trouble saying the words out loud. (Especially if you have trouble saying it out loud) Tell someone. Let your friends in. Let them help you.

You are not a burden.

Luckily for me, I have two incredible friends who helped me get out. Two people my abuser never knew about, because she told me to stay off of all social media. She told me fan fiction and fan spaces were bad for my mental health. It was childish for a grown woman to still be writing fan fic. Or acting in plays. Or listening to musicals. Or doing any of the many things that brought me so much joy, in my life before her.

Thank god I didn’t listen. At least, not for long.

Because two of my pocket friends that I met ON THIS VERY HELL SITE are the reason I’m free today.

@celeritas2997 and @statueinthestone . None of this would have happened without you two. I love you both so much.

Cee taught me what it looks like to support someone who is not ready to leave. When I finally worked up the nerve to tell her what was going on, she listened. She didn’t judge. Instead, she gave me the resources I needed to get out and encouraged me to seek help, without ever once shaming me for not being ready.

And it took me a very long time to be ready. But she never once demeaned me for it. She waited SO patiently, and listened whenever I shared new details of my abuse with her. She continued to suggest I get help, and when I chickened out again and again, she was still there. She never gave up on me. When I finally took her advice and reached out to the resources she suggested and started the process of leaving my abuser, she celebrated with me. She never once said “I told you so”.

Thank god I finally listened to her.

Jesi. Fuck. Jesi helped me in so many fucking ways, but none more so than this: she taught me that not everyone shows love the same way, and that’s okay. Just because the way I show love is different from what others expect or demand from me, it is in no way less valid. Thr way I love is valid. The way I love is enough.

I am enough.

Beyond the emotional lessons, this experience taught me a whole host of other things as well. For almost four years now, I’ve been homeless. I’ve been living in my car while my abuser lived in my apartment. I paid for her rent, food, medications, clothes, household items, streaming service subscriptions. (Streaming services I was forbidden to use, by the by. Because. You know. Mental health. I didn’t listen to this either. 😂)

And it was no big deal! It made sense, really, to do all this for her. After all, she was sick. And she was my best friend. She had already sacrificed so much for me. She was a good person who’d been dealt a shitty hand. She’d NEVER take advantage of me.

Right?

And anyway, I wasn’t really homeless. I CHOSE to live in my car. It was the right thing to do. That apartment was so tiny and she was so, so sick. And I’d always wanted to live a nomad lifestyle! I got bored living in apartments. That’s why I moved around so much in my life before her. Living in my car just made sense. It’s what I wanted.

Right?

Being homeless has taught me so much, not just about myself, but i e picked up a lot of car living life hacks. Here are a few of them:

You can work two jobs and still be homeless.

Like abuse, homelessness can look like many things. It’s not just that one stereotypical image that pops in your brain when you hear the word. To this day, my employers have no idea I’m homeless, and I’ve been working for them for two years.

Battery powered anything is a godsend.

Public restrooms are an absolute necessity for all of society. I will forever and always be grateful for them, especially for public park restrooms that are open all year round.

There are certain places where sleeping in a car is legal, and many places where it’s not. Familiarize yourself with your local laws. Be safe.

There are at least 20 different meals you can cobble together from the prepared food section at any grocery store with about $10 and a little creativity.

Quarantining with Covid sucks. Quarantining for 5 straight days in a car sucks absolute dickhole. (That said, doordash will deliver directly to your car and leave the bag on the hood, if you ask nicely)

Wet wipe showers are 100% a real thing and are a good solution in a pinch, but NOTHING beats a hot shower. Absolutely nothing. (I can’t wait to have a bathtub again.)

Stuffing 4-6 Hot Hand packets in the bottom of a thick sleeping bag will go a long way to keeping you warm on subzero nights.

For curtains: crack open a window, stick the edge of a sheet through, and close the window again. Repeat as necessary.

For sleeping, if possible: remove the headrest from the front passenger seat and lower it completely until it reaches the back seat for an impromptu L-shaped bed.

Try not to sleep in the same position every night. Your body will thank you later.

Always keep at least one window open a crack, even in the winter. Condensation leads to mold.

If you take a second job working nights, know that it is fucking impossible to sleep in a car on a hot fucking summer day when you can only open the window a fucking crack (for the sake of safety). You will wake up in the afternoon gross, smelly and drenched in sweat.

Gym memberships are an absolute must.

Beyond that, I’ve also learned the importance of setting boundaries, and that not only is it okay to say “no” it’s essential. I’ve learned you’re not selfish for wanting to leave a toxic situation. I’ve learned that freedom can be taken from you, but that you can take it back. And above all, I now know one thing with absolute certainty:

You cannot be broken.

You. Cannot. Be. Broken.

No matter what happens to you, no matter how they try, they will NEVER break you.

Abuse can lead you to forget, for a while, who you are, and you might need to lock up certain parts of yourself temporarily for the sake of your own survival.

But one day.

One day.

You will hit the point where you have had enough. And on that day you’ll find that she was always there. With you. The whole time. The person you truly are was with you all along. She never left. She’s simply been waiting for you to need her again.

And on that day, that glorious day when you truly wake up, your entire life will change. Even if you can’t leave yet, when you realize the full weight of what is happening to you, when you realize the truth, you let the hope back in. And every step you take toward your goal from there on out, every step toward your freedom, will be all the sweeter for it.

You will doubt yourself, of course. Even after you choose to leave, even as you prepare and plan, you will doubt yourself.

She’ll be so angry if I go. So hurt. Can I really do that to her? She’s sick. She needs me. She doesn’t have anyone else. Can I really hurt her? I’ve hurt her so much already.

What if it’s not actually as bad as I think? Maybe I’m just being dramatic. Maybe I should try harder. Be better. Maybe I can save us.

She’ll come after me if I leave. She said so. She’s going to make me pay for what I’ve done to her. What if she makes good on her threats? What if she makes my life hell?

What if she was right?

What if she was right?

Can I really do this?

It’s natural to second guess yourself, especially on the “good” days. The days after a big blow up. When it seems like she’s moved on and conversations between you are normal again. Or as normal as they’ll ever be. Especially in those moments, you’re going to doubt yourself. That’s okay.

Doubt yourself. Do it anyway.

And in those particularly low moments, reach out to the people who truly love you and try to believe their reassurances, even when that feels impossible. Seeking help from your friends is not manipulation. There’s nothing wrong with needing guidance or validation. Especially not now.

I’m free. I’m finally free and I feel elated and giddy…and also scared. She told me multiple times in no uncertain terms that she was going to spend the rest of her life getting back at me for all the pain I caused her (and that was before I left).

But I’m also, surprisingly, sad. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to get to the point where I would have to press charges against my former best friend in order to escape her. I loved her. I never wanted to hurt her. This is her absolute worst nightmare and I take no pleasure in making that happen.

But I have no regrets. I am a fucking human being with a good heart, free will, and some semblance of self respect. I don’t deserve to be treated this way. I have the right to protect myself and she’s made it clear, this is the only way I can do that. It’s sad, yes, but it had to happen. And after all, she has been threatening to do the same thing to me for years!

For at least two years now, she’s been saying that if I didn’t start giving a shit about her, she was going to have me arrested for abuse of a disabled person. She was going to have me placed under a conservatorship, or admitted to a psychiatric facility due to my mental and emotional instability. She said she was going to tell everyone I once loved what a terrible person I am, spread my secrets far and wide, among so many other threats, all intended to keep me in line.

It was an effective strategy. For a while, at least.

Leaving is painful. And scary. And sad. And quite possibly the most difficult thing I've ever had to do.

But it was necessary. And it was worth it. Oh my god it was SO fucking worth it!! I’m free. And my freedom is worth fighting for.

There’s a lot I still don’t know. I’m going to need a lot of time and therapy to feel like myself again, but in spite of all this, as I look at the boxes of my belongings I managed to rescue from the apartment I haven’t been allowed to enter in four years, I feel like I won.

I won.

I got my life back.

As hard as this was, never have I felt more hope for the future as I do right now. There is so much I want to do! So much I CAN do now! I have incredible friends I want to make things for. I have a beautiful cat (Vayda) I need to meet one day.

I’m going to get that haircut I always wanted, but never got for fear of ridicule (too queer). I’m going to get another tattoo, I’m going to travel, and soon, I’m going to have my own place again. For the first time in almost a decade. A small apartment just for me. A sanctuary.

I’m going to have a real bed again. And a kitchen. I’m going to take bubble baths and bake cookies and keep a toothbrush in an actual toothbrush holder and clothes in a real dresser instead of in a plastic tub in the trunk of my car. I’m going to have an herb garden and hang a bird feeder outside my window.

Hopefully one day I’ll even get a cat myself. A pet I can pour all my love into because I have love to give. I have so much love to give and the freedom to truly give it now.

My life is bright and full of possibilities again and none of that, not one single shred of the happiness I feel now would have been possible without fan fiction.

Fan fic gave me a community, when I was forced into isolation.

Fan fic gave me refuge on the long days when I couldn’t escape her relentless criticism.

Fan fic kept me warm when my windows were crusted over with frost.

Fan fic gave me lovely comments from lovely readers that kept me going. Words that told me maybe I wasn’t so worthless after all.

Fan fic has been my home, my one remaining source of joy, my tiny act of rebellion.

I’ve spent a lot of time already reminding myself of what is true and what isn’t. There’s a lot there left to sift through. But the greatest truth of my life is, and I’m not being hyperbolic when I say this:

Fan fiction saved my life.

[yandere-writer-momo]

🎃 Halloween Special 🎃

Happy Halloweenie! Enjoy!

Yandere Baki Short Stories:

Lamb to the Slaughter

Yandere Werewolf Jack Hanma x Afab Reader

Rip! Claws replaced fingernails as they dragged across the cement wall of the cabin’s basement where Jack resided. His bones snapped and crunched into place, his body undergoing a painful transformation.

It was his own carelessness that had landed him in this predicament. Jack refused to listen to the locals when he was younger and determined to become stronger. He did have monstrous strength now, but he wasn’t able to control it.

Jack was the full moon’s victim each month. The huntsman cursed to forever transform into a monster all because he wanted to become stronger. He was foolish.

And that’s when a familiar scent hit his nose, his body froze in pure fear. No… (your name) wasn’t supposed to be here. He had pushed her away to save her… she needed to run.

“Jack?” Jack whined when he heard her call out his name so sweetly. He had missed her… she was his only friend… he had to get her away from him. “I know you don’t want to see me, but I’m worried about you…”

Jack scratched at his skin that began to sprout blonde fur. His long ears flattened against the top of his head. Another whine left his lips. Jack missed her so much but he knew if she came any closer to him, he’d pounce.

“Jack? Please answer.” And that’s when her sweet scent became stronger. He could see her ankles and iconic red cloak she always adorned on her small form from the barred up window. He could feel himself drool at the tantalizing show she unconsciously gave his hungry eyes. And it wasn’t her basket filled with goodies he craved, no… it was her.

“Jack-“ Bang! (Your name) jumped at the loud sound of something heavy slamming against the metal door of the basement. She clutched her wooden basket close to her chest, her heart palpitated in fear. “Jack?”

Jack clawed at the door, his cognac colored eyes now a striking shade of gold. His voice came out distorted. It wasn’t his usual deep grumble but somehow more gruff. “Let me out… let me out, (your name)!”

Jack felt his heart race when he heard her rush over like a lamb unaware of slaughter. He was nearly drunk on her scent. She smelled so delectable… he wanted to run his tongue up and down her skin. Jack wanted to scent her so badly… to take her in his arms and never let her go. Jack was a fool to try to push such a good mate away- wait. Mate?

“Jack?! Are you okay?” Jack whined when he heard her soft cries of concern. What a good mate she was, always so caring. Jack needed to take her to a nest. She needed to be safe. “I’ll let you out!”

The wolf in him drooled but for a moment, Jack was able to grasp onto his human counter part. No! If she opened the door, he’d devour her. “No! Don’t open it!”

(Your name) froze from the other side of the thick metal door. What did he mean… he just asked her to let him out.

“What do you mean-“

“I’m not myself… I don’t want to hurt you!” Jack felt tears run down his face, the blonde doing his best to shove down that primal part of him that demanded he lay his claim on her. “Do not open the door. You… you should leave. Run! Run and don’t look back!”

(Your name) felt her heart shatter at his words. She came all this way for him all because she loved Jack. Sure he was stoic and moody, but she cared about the huntsman.

“I haven’t seen you in weeks… I’m worried about you-“

“There’s no reason for you to do that. I’m fine-“

“I love you!” She screamed, Jack froze when he heard her small fists bang against the metal door. Her sobs made him feel so broken. “And you always push me away. I love you, Jack-“

(Your name) was suddenly launched back a bit when Jack slammed his whole body into the door. She felt her heart shatter even more. Had he just thrown her away like some sort of brute?

“I-I’m sorry. I won’t bother you again-“ (your name) jumped when the metal door was slammed against over and over again. The hinges squealed from each impact. A large dent now on the door. What was happening?

(Your name) crawled back in terror, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Something was wrong…. Horribly wrong.

And that’s when the door was burst open, a giant wolf stood in the doorway. It’s golden eyes focused on her small, helpless form.

(Your name) screamed when a snarl left its lips, the wolf launched its form at her. (Your name) tried to shield herself with her arms but the wolf tacked her to the ground.

Jack’s furry arms wrapped around her into a tight hug, a few tears fell from his eyes. He didn’t want her to see him like this… he didn’t want her to know he was a monster.

(Your name) trembled, her hands reached up to hold the wolf’s face in her palms. Recognition flashed through her in an instant. “Jack?”

“I’m sorry… I wanted to protect you.” Jack whispered, his body trembled as he fought off the wolf within. “I wanted to protect you from me.”

“It’s okay-“

“I realize the error of my ways. I made you cry. I made you worry. I’m such a horrible mate…” Jack growled, the werewolf placed his snout on her shoulder blade to inhale her scent. “I’m never going to let you go. We can live together in the forest. Just you and me… and our pups.”

(Your name) felt her blood run cold. Her eyes widen when Jack teasingly scrapes his teeth against her neck. She should have listened to him… she should have ran…

But now the lamb was stuck in the maw of the wolf. And he was never going to let her go.

[eggroll-sama]

THINGS THAT REMIND ME OF THE LI

This is purely self-indulgent and just based on stuff that makes me go, “it’s them!” when it’s unrelated to them. But here you go and hope you like it. To make it sound more accurate, I replaced the nouns to fit Touchstarved cast.

AIS

Tyler Durban and Edward Norton from the FIGHT CLUB— “How much can you know about yourself if you’ve never been in a fight?” “Maybe self-improvement isn’t the answer, maybe self-destruction is the answer,” “Only after you’ve lost everything you’re free to do anything.” “We are the same person.”

The song, ‘I Remember You’ from ADVENTURE TIME— “I can feel myself slipping away, I can’t remember what it made me say, but I remember that I saw you frown, I swear it wasn’t me…And I need to save you, but who's going to save me? Please forgive me for whatever I do, when I don’t remember you.”

The punk from FERRIS BUELLER’S DAY OFF. I can just see Ais at a police station, giving advice to a pretty stranger, and end up making out with them.

This scene (warning: graphic violence and gore) from ONCE UPON A TIME IN HOLLYWOOD. It’s just so Ais and Princess-coded

VENOM, enough said.

KURAS

The murder-mystery film, THE DA VINCI CODE. I feel like Kuras would love the movie if it existed in his world since it’s canon that he likes trashy murder mysteries.

The song, ‘No Good Deed Goes Unpunished’ from WICKED— “[MC] where are you? Already dead, or bleeding? One more disaster I can add to my Generous supply…No good deed goes unpunished. No act of charity goes unresented. No good deed goes unpunished. That’s my new creed.”

GONE WITH THE WIND— “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.” This line was controversial when released in 1939 because swear words weren’t normalized. I feel like Kuras, like this movie, rarely swears but when he does, the whole room goes silent and you know shit’s about to go down. Also according to the RSS radial chart, Kuras has low empathy plus maxed out strength high wisdom, damn at some point that man might legit not give a damn-

MAQUIA: WHEN THE PROMISED FLOWER BLOOMS— “you smell weird, you smell like the sun;” “If you fall in love, you will truly become alone.” Contextually the line is about how an immortal should never get too close with mortals because they'll one day they’ll die, and it fits Kuras a lot.

HUNTER X HUNTER 2011—“[MC] you are light. Sometimes, you shine so brightly, I must look away. But even so, is it still ok to stay by your side?” I love the idea of an angel heavily associated with the sun (Prometheus, likes sunny days, radiates heat), finds someone that is the light of their life.

ONE PIECE— “I have seen the future of this country. And it is destruction. As long as [the Senobium] remains here, this country can never be cured, because even if medical technology progresses, even if [alchemical] research continues… there is no cure for stupidity.”

OPPENHEIMER. After I watched the movie all I could think about was Kuras doing the blank eye stare at the end of the movie.

LEANDER

Goob from MEET THE ROBINSONS (he’s literally just child Leander in the modern world ;o;)

Michael Scott from THE OFFICE— “I wanna be married and have 100 kids so I can have 100 friends and no one can say no to being my friend,” “it’s not about the horniness, it’s about the loneliness”

The painting, Death of Sardanapalus, by Eugene Delacroix. King Sardanapalus palace is besieged by enemies and he decides to commit suicide after he learns of the army’s defeat, but not before ordering his men to destroy all his favorite possessions- wives, horses, pages, and dogs. He’d rather his valuables all be destroyed than his enemies own them. King Sardanapulus selfishness is humane, but the extremity’s he would go to keep what is his is monstrous.

GASTON from BEAUTY AND THE BEAST— Gaston and Leander both have similar vibes. They’re both trusted and well-liked by most people, viewed as heroes, are human but are monsters on the inside, overconfident, attractive, has a possessive streak, hangs out in bars, nice singing voice. The main difference is that Gaston doesn’t try to act like a nice guy like Leander Fake ahhh

The song ‘Burn’ from HAMILTON— “Do you know what [Vere] said when we saw your first letter arrive? [He] said, be careful with that one, love, he will do what it takes to survive…Do you know what [Kuras] said when [he] read what you’d done? [He] said, you’ve married an Icarus, he has flown too close to the sun.”

Michael Corleone from the GODFATHER.

Sampo from HONKAI STAR RAIL— I barely know anything about Honkai Starrail, but I was going to an anime goods store with my friend and one look at him made me think of Leander. My friend gave me a run down that he betrays you for money and runs away and unironically I could see Leander throwing us under the bus.

VERE

This scene from the movie, MALENA. Vere is heavily desired by men and women alike, but his flirty and fickle personality is just a front to protect himself. And he hates how people see him as a pretty face or someone who needs saving from the Senobium. Tbh Malena herself just reminds me of Vere’s problem of how being pretty is a double edged sword. People see you’re pretty, so they feel threatened or idealize you. You feel extremely lonely bc people are distracted by your beauty and won’t try to understand you intimately. So you either own it and be alone OR assimilate and have friends. Vere is the former.

Madonna-Whore Complex. This article explains it pretty well, “The Madonna Whore Complex (MWC) is a psychological complex often perpetuated by heterosexual, cisgender males which places women into two categories the “Madonna, a woman who is pure, virtuous, and nurturing, or a “Whore,” a woman who is deemed as overly sexual, manipulating, and promiscuous. The dichotomy of MWC creates a rigidity that limits women’s sexual expression, agency, and freedom by defining their sexuality into one of two categories.” Vere is the latter.

Ymir from ATTACK ON TITAN. Both of them were self-proclaimed deity, was caught lying (presumably), and paid for it. Their personalities are similar too except Vere masks himself through innuendos.

The song, ‘The Red Means I Love You’ by Madds Buckley— “The red on my face is matching you. And goodness, you're bleeding, what a wonderful feeling. You're down and you're pleading, my head is just reeling. The red means I love you. Tasting your blood means I love you.” (I can’t see Vere becoming a yandere because he’s already deranged)

MHIN

Another line from ONE PIECE —“Someday I will become too much of a burden. Someday you’ll betray me and cast me aside.”

SHUTTER ISLAND— “What would be worse, to live as a monster or die as a good [person]?” Mhin hates monsters ironically since they are one, and I could see them nearing the time limit where their curse becomes permanent and decides that maybe it’s better to die with their humanity than live forever as a monster.

The Beast from BEAUTY AND THE BEAST. I already said this in another post but like IMAGINE THE AU. AHHHHHH

Felix from LAST LEGACY but more depressed.

Disclaimer: we don’t know much about Sen or Elyon yet so I don’t have much.

ELYON

THE GREAT GATSBY— “…can't you see who this guy is, with his house and his parties and his fancy clothes? He is just a front, a gangster, to get his claws into respectable folk…(to Elyon) We're all different from you. You see, we were born different. It's in our blood. And nothing that you do or say or steal... or dream up can ever change that.”

SEN

Unfortunately I don’t have any for Sen. Her design reminds me of Frankenstein’s creature tho.

BONUS:

MC

This scene from SHAPE OF WATER. MC falls in love with a monster and trying to save them from danger. MC knows that they are also an outsider, a monster. Being with the LI’s feels like they were finally accepted for who they are, regardless of their curse, so they can’t abandon them— “When they looks at me…the way they looks at me, they don’t know what I lack. How I am incomplete...and now I can either save them or let them die.” I think this quote can also be interpreted as the players choosing a route, essentially dooming the other players if we don’t choose them.

Famous line from 10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU— “but mostly I hate how I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.” The fact that us as players will keep coming back to them, replaying their routes even though they killed us, and obsessing over them. Yes they suck but we still love them.

This quote from Green Mile— “ I’m tired…I'm tired of bein' on the road, lonely as a sparrow in the rain. Tired of not ever having me a buddy to be with.” I think this quote really emphasizes how touch-starved MC is, and how alone they feel from being betrayed by people they cared about in the past (also sparrow name drop ^-^)

[lxmelle]

Just some thoughts about chapter 236 after reading 261. I’ve talked about it elsewhere but I’m going to post it here too.

The whole North South thing has been a huge thing to unpick. As had been the human and jujutsu pervert thing.

But, after 261, it seems to be about reconciliation - between Gojo’s Human side and his Monster side. Perhaps the ongoing theme for Gojo since his enlightenment - is he Gojo Satoru who is Strong or does being Strong define him as Gojo Satoru?

From that premise, that’s why he talked about himself and emotion with Geto - elaborating on “satisfaction” etc. Nobody else was there when they did. It could be a representation of who is within the line Gojo drew. Others are flowers who couldn’t understand him / he didn’t wish to understand him. (I believe Gojo too didn’t want to be saved but lived since birth as if he were to be the saviour due to six eyes + limitless ). Even if at some point he felt like a creature, he has always only been Geto who he wanted to stand beside him as his best friend. He caught up to him, right? They face in the same direction.

The benches is something to take note of too imho: the symbolism of Nanami & Haibara being on the other side of the benches perhaps is meant to represent the Monster Gojo (ie Strongest Gojo Satoru).

So Nanami and Haibara highlight his perverse, jujutsu mad side. They reflect how he could be viewed, or even what he could’ve become. It’s not nice to hear at all. He worked hard not to be that, hence, I think, his facial expression there. But, Gojo accepts it as a part of who he is too. Geto roasts him and echoes that based on what he admitted - practically having fun fighting the death?? Oh dear 😅 But, it shows how Gojo in death reconciled between his two halves. With the aid of his friends.

The North South thing after 261 seems to be thematically similar - going back to being more Human. Gojo’s monstrous side had fun and he has relinquished the Title of being the strongest. So his choice was to go South because that’s where happiness is for him. He understood that love changed him and that it had allowed him to not be lonely as the strongest in the end, having people around him, having purpose, etc. which he wanted to convey to Sukuna. He could have been a monster / calamity Sukuna but thankfully he knew love and could connect with those “beneath his feet” (this was in direct contrast to Hajime’s battle / convo with Sukuna).

It makes me sad to think that it is possible that this interpretation doesn’t allow for a Shinto-like afterlife and they all have to get onto the plane to reincarnate.

Or. It was really a death fantasy after all... aligned with Bardo Thodol...

…and all we can take comfort in is that Gojo was at peace?

Ah, I’m going to make myself depressed thinking about it 😭 we probably won’t get answers from Gege anytime soon so I’ll stubbornly choose to believe there is a Shinto-like afterlife and if they want to reincarnate they can go meet Emma-O to discuss things - like... you know, reincarnating together 😉

Just my two cents... any thoughts or theories?

[a-dragons-journal]

Humanity and the Lack Thereof

This essay was co-written between Rani and Viridian; Viridian's text is in green and bracketed.

Humanity is an interesting thing.

I am otherkin. I am nonhuman, a dragon-in-human-skin, draconic to my core. I feel phantom wings and tail, the instinctive knowledge of how to breathe fire even though I don’t understand how it works, a bones-deep longing and homesickness for the sky, numerous instincts and urges tied to being something other than human. Many who are like me reject humanity entirely, don’t feel human at all. And yet, I am also human, deeply and truly. I am just as human as I am dragon - I like my human body, I love the things I can do with it (hands, dexterous hands, are a wonderful thing), I overall enjoy my human life. I am nonhuman, but I am not not human.

Viridian, who is watching “over my shoulder” as I write this, is a vampire. She is a fictive, from one of the Vampire: the Masquerade games that I play in, wherein vampires are typically considered to be… on the boundary line between “human” and “nonhuman.” Many vampires cling to their humanity and adamantly consider themselves human; I would go so far as to say this is the norm. Those who do not often become monstrous indeed, though often they do not.

[ I do not consider myself human. I am Kindred, vampire, Cainite. I am part of humanity, as a general populace - but I do not like being called human.

[ I think part of it is that being human is often put in direct opposition to being vampire as a personal identifier. Those who adamantly insist they are “still human” often mean as opposed to being a vampire instead. Being no longer human is, as Rani wrote, often considered a sign of becoming a monster instead.

[ But I worked hard for my Embrace, my being turned into a vampire. I worked to earn the right to call myself Kindred for nearly a decade. And yes, perhaps some of it is that I was taught by my original sire that the Embrace was an ascension above humanity, and that still colors my feelings on my own vampirism even if I acknowledge that he was wrong to consider us inherently above humans. But much of it is that being called human feels like a denial of my vampirism, a rejection of it, and for me that is not empowering - it is denying and rejecting something deeply important to me. Kindred is who I am. Human was only ever circumstantially true, a circumstance of birth - Kindred was something I actively sought out, pursued, chose. ]

Which is interesting, because to a certain extent, “human” is only circumstantially true for me, too. If I hadn’t been born human, I sincerely doubt I would identify as one in the same way that I identify as a dragon despite not being born into a dragon body. I could be wrong, of course - I have no way to prove it either way - but I suspect that if I am correct about reincarnation and I end up in another body after this one, I will not have the same “spillover” of humanity that I do of draconity from my dragon life.

And yet, I am human, and I actively dislike it when people try to strip that from me. Part of that, admittedly, is that the handful that try to see me as only dragon, and reject that I am human, are usually doing it because they’re violently misanthropic individuals, so it’s soured the whole thing for me because the reason they’re rejecting my humanity is so they can try to get me to shit-talk the rest of humanity with them. (If I have to hear one more dragon legitimately, whole-heartedly say that they think humanity should be extincted, I’m going to lose it.) But part of it is that my humanity is important to me, just as important as my draconity. I am both. I’ve written whole essays on this topic.

[ In that way, perhaps we’re not so different after all. I dislike being called human because it feels like a rejection of who I am, who I chose to be; you dislike being called not-human because it is a rejection of who you are. ]

Maybe so. Funny how different societal circumstances can yield opposite results from the same kind of pressures.

I think that part of the discrepancy between us is also that I’m a very physical person. Frankly, I am a chemical creature; I enjoy physicality, I enjoy affectionate touch, I enjoy the physical pleasures life has to offer. I enjoy food. I enjoy sexual pleasure. I enjoy the exhilaration of getting my heart going and my instincts fired up in a self-defense class. I live, I live, I live! is ever a cry of joy in my heart. And a lot of that ties into my animality! I am a dragon animal, yes, but I am also a human animal, and both of these things must be satisfied! The dragon yearns for the wind and the view when I climb up to a height, for the fire of battle I can get out of a sparring match; the human yearns for the taste of sun-warm berries right off the bush, for the warm press of bodies when I hug and cuddle with loved ones. Both of them love a good nap in the sun. I am a physical creature, I am an animal, and my animal-ness connects me to my body and thus to my humanity, rather than separating me from it.

[ Meanwhile, none of this has ever been true for me. Yes, of course I enjoy certain delicacies; I miss my brother’s cookies periodically, it’s true. But I’ve never loved these things the way Rani does. It’s not that I dislike the pleasures of life, but I’ve just… never really cared. It wasn’t much of a loss when I was Embraced, to trade food and sunlight and heartbeat for immortality and knowledge and power. It was almost convenient to not have to deal with the maintenance a living body requires - no excretion of waste, no inconvenient aches or pains or stomach cramps, a frankly much more manageable frequency of requiring sustenance. My body is just a tool, and the Embrace made it more efficient in most ways. And now, after twenty-three years of being dead, being in a living body again is overwhelming in some ways and just downright unpleasant in others. Even most of the physical matters Rani actively enjoys are either overwhelming or uninteresting for me. I am happy to leave the care and maintenance of the body to them. It’s not necessarily that I actively had a disconnect from my human body, originally, so much as that I didn’t have an active connection to it to make me identify with it, and thus my being “human” was, as I said, only ever circumstantial. My becoming Kindred overrode it, and I prefer to leave it that way.

[ Ironic, that the one whose nonhumanity is so human-shaped should be the one to reject humanity, but here we are. ]

Here we are.

[magpod-confessions]

Honestly i wanna hear opinions on season 4, cus im gonna confess i could NOT finish it (didnt move on to season 5 either lol). Got to like ep 135 & i just couldnt tell any of the episodes apart it felt like such a drag; just a slog of misery with some offhand Important 5 Minutes once in a blue moon. I hate repetition & i got the sparknotes from fandom/wiki stuff so yeahhh i just stopped listening; i still love TMA & it’s story & characters, it’s just the execution that got to me RIP

Everything felt kinda forced to me ig? Like there was some shoe-horned “humans are more monstrous than the actual monster” that snuffed S1 Jon’s fun cockiness/jackassery just to make him ? The best one in the archive ??? & all of his wrongdoings are either off-screen or justified by him being tricked into becoming a literal monster against his will (who would STARVE w/o his ‘evil-doings’, which didnt even kill ppl). Also felt like everyone got needlessly dumbed down except for Martin (the Love Interest ofc, who got 180’d from his pre-established incompetency to be some mastermind in a playing field he should have REALLY been inept in) just so they’d be blind to Jon’s situation & be mean to him LMAO

They started trying to make Jon accountable for “choosing this” & i couldnt handle it, held no fucking water to me—the guy being explicitly puppetted & manipulated as the entire plot? That guy is expected to take responsibility here? Felt like some after-thought theme they threw on top of it all. Anyways uhh feel free comment either on what i said and/or your personal thoughts on the season, or nothing if ya got nothing lol

🗣️

Ehh disagree. S4 isnt my fav but I dont think its bad. S1 Jon to s4 jon feels like natural character progression to me. He starts as acting all high and mighty to try hide the fact he has no idea what hes doing and is terrified, and then experiences a lot of ppl dying that he feels is due to him and is his responsibility. At that point his thought pattern is 'I keep messing up and making mistakes and getting myself and everyone around me hurt, so other ppl surely know better'. Hes got a lot of black and white thinking around him, which has been consistent throughout his entire characterization

I dont think any characters were dumbed down either

Melanie was always angry, she only go worse bc she had smth making her think everything she did was justified and when that stopped she became avoidant and stopped lashing out. She was still angry, just managing it better

Basira has always been Daisys no1, the person to justify all of Daisys actions. She knows what daisy did and why its bad but she holds onto the idea that daisy is right in doing so. She blames jon for what he does bc logically she knows its wrong, hurting ppl who havent done anything is wrong, but still excuses daisy bc she needs to. Bc that was a fact of her life and it cannot be wrong. In the unknowning she focuses on facts to keep her grounded and to her 'Daisy is a good person' 'Hurting ppl is wrong' and 'If you hurt ppl you are a bad person' are all facts she needs in her life to stay grounded. How she justifies Daisys actions is by saying that the ppl who daisy hurt were worse and it ultimately helps more ppl to have them gone. Not only can she not do that with Jon, as she believes those he hurts are entirely innocent, she also doesnt care to. Shes not close with Jon and she doesnt have 'Jon is a good person' as a fact in her mind, so she doesnt need to work to excuse his actions. Its all or nothing with her, if you hurt and continue hurting ppl, no matter your reason, you need to stop and the only way you will stop is if you are gone. She also has a lot of black and white thinking, gotta love the autism podcast

Martin being a mastermind in s4 also makes sense bc him being stupid is an act. If ppl think your stupid theyll underestimate you and ultimately leave you alone. They wont scrutinize you, they wont attack every part of you, they will brush it off as just a typical normal thing. It will get you ignored and you cannot be hurt if nobody knows who you are or how to hurt you. Its a lonely miserable existence but its one martins used to. Martin rarely drops the mask of 'Sweet but stupid' bc he needs that to survive and tbh he probably learnt that from needing to survive his mom LOL. Martin just knows and picks the best method of getting ppl to like him, which for him is doing exactly what they want and keeping their expectations low so they wont hurt him as much when they mess up. Honestly in s5 I see him as hes finally got to a place where he doesnt care if everyone hates him, bc he has someone who does and thats all he needs. Hes survived the worst of it and he doesnt care anymore

Part of the reason everyone blames Jon is bc he is there and he is the one who is currently causing the most problems. Also they dont actually see the extent that Jon is manipulated. Elias talks and interacts with Jon differently to how he interacts with others. All of them met Jon when he was already at the institute, they meet him when it does actually look like he made his choice, entirely of his own free will. It doesnt help that daisy is there, someone who completed their transformation like Jon did and turned back on it, and she looks like shes managing well enough. She is surviving without feeding so why cant Jon do the same? Also basira does trust elias on some level. She trusts he knows more than she does and can be an asset if used correctly, which definitely doesnt help things. Also the idea of Elias is locked up, he cant affect Jon anymore so why is Jon still acting this way. Elias has very effectively vilified and isolated jon and jon doesnt fight back against it bc he believes it as well. Other ppl are normally right so why wouldnt everyone be right abt him?

Oh my god that was an essay and I absolutely missed sooo much stuff but idk take that - rosette

i literally have nothing to add . rosette sincerely you are insane and i love that . i honestly don't have a lot of s4 opinions that i could really put down , but i also disagree anon . s4 may not have been the best , but it certainly wasn't Bad or not enjoyable to listen to . coming from someone who has listened to the podcast twice now [ and who is planning on a third relisten ] , i really do enjoy s4 as a whole . martin's buildup and his manipulation of peter lukas is honestly one of my favourite parts , because it has been said that martin was originally going to be apart of the mother of puppets ! this shows that part of martin we didn't get to see but has been there . i got distracted and don't remember what else i was gonna type um . whoops - deceit

[dnpanimationstudioclone]

Do u believe in or have any ideas about the whole Overlord Niffty theory?

Actually yeah! For my Niffty I’m going for that route!🐛

HUGE Spoiler alert!!!! Hazbin Hotel @the-burd-lord made these concept designs for me as a gift, I treasure them greatly💖 Their designs inspired from Centichoro from One Punch Man. The other character in the drawings is my take on Alastor!🦌📻

With the reveal of Husk being once an Overlord I like to believe the same with Niffty but rather than gained her power from souls(talked about this with @a-sterling-rose, she was an immensely powerful sinner like Alastor, but alas her form was far too big and scary for people to want to get close to and she was all alone…until Alastor came along and offered her a deal he’d provide a more approachable form in return for her eternal service).

One idea. I imagine she was once a regular sinner like everyone else but was still a centipede like demon so it wasn’t easy to gain peoples trust due to her scary appearance. But one day some overlord or jsut really strong demon or hellborn tried to attack her and in defense or just acting on first instinct…ate into them and ended up becoming stronger and scarier looking in the process, driving even more people to see her as a threat and try to attack only to well…think the Hungry Catepillar but more gruesome and scary.

I can imagine she used to live in the outskirts of the pentagram or underground somewhere as Centipedes can burrow. Occasionally some try to get close to gain power or try to kill her but failed. She was very lonely💔💔💔 Warning scary images.

A lot of her looks meant to be hiding what she is. Disguising her extra limbs as hair, her body’s color scheme based on a centipedes, poofy dress that could cover extra, even the bug design could be Interpreted as a long centipede. I was also going for a subtle sharp, mini legs for her apron ruffles, giving off her trying to look sweet and soft but could also be interpreted in another way…

I read and learned from a @lovesart23 redesign vid for her that, she was meant to be based on B-Alien Movies. LOVE that and I tried it myself(hardest part was figuring out what bug to make her and what themes to go with) but I ended up going for another Sci-Fi route. Kaiju/Giant Bug monsters. Creatures like Godzilla or those giant bugs creatures like “the Tingler” 1959(which was a centipede monster I read). I figure it’d connect well to both her struggles of fitting in but also her Japanese Roots.

Monsters are tragic beings. They are born too tall, too strong, too heavy. They are not evil by choice. That is their tragedy. They do not attack people because they want to, but because of their size and strength, mankind has no other choice but to defend himself. After several stories such as this, people end up having a kind of affection for the monsters. They end up caring about them."

— Ishir⁠ō Honda The Director of Godzilla

Plus some certain Kaijus could qualify as Aliens!.

There’s even a Yokai/demon based on the centipede known as the Ōkumade! I imagine Niffty’s true form is basically a giant monstrous looking centipede.

What do u think? Any ideas you have for overlord Niffty? I’d love to know💖

[whumpshaped]

deer anon asked:

It's me, ya bitch, back at it again with more horrible whump ideas. Very please that so far, you have entertained my shenanigans, because thus far, my cat has been the only one to sit through my horrendous ideas, and she is indeed, quite poor company.

Characters infected with something, characters who know they're going to lose their mind or change into something vile and violent, characters who know that they need to leave their team behind now before they try to kill them and before their team has no choice but to destroy them. Characters who can't leave their team (or family, lovers, friends...) for various reasons. Characters spitting out their lungs over the floor while staring at those they love, begging them to just kill them before it's too late.

And those who love them realizing that their only choice is to shoot their best friend.

Everybody hurts, nobody wins, the world sucks, and I really need to start posting all my ideas on my own blog but BOY do I love seeing what you manage to do with em 😅

Follow up to my 'slowly becoming a monster' ask because it popped into mind just as I hit send:

Whumpee's/infected char's loved ones choosing to instead cage/restrain them until they can find a way to save them.

---

tw body horror, nonhuman whumpee, whumpee turned whumper, bad caretaker, guns, infection whump, forced to hurt

"Please!" Whumpee screamed, voice so scratchy and distorted that if Caretaker hadn't been looking straight at them, they would've never guessed it was their friend speaking. They could hardly believe it, even like this. "I don't know how long... I can keep this thing at bay... It wants to– It wants to kill– It wants to kill you–"

"You'd never hurt me," Caretaker said tearily. "I know you wouldn't."

"But it would. Caretaker, this isn't... this isn't me." Whumpee shivered, then coughed, and Caretaker couldn't even look at the fresh blood splatter on the floor. "Please. Please, let me go out as... somewhat myself. Before I hurt you. I don't want to hurt you," they pleaded between two sobs.

"I... I can't." They couldn't even raise the gun. Couldn't even take aim. It was too much. "I can't kill you. I can't. We can still find a way to reverse this–"

Whumpee lunged before they could react. They tore the gun out of their hand and shoved the barrel into their own mouth, ready to end it all– but their attempt was interrupted by a violent coughing fit that made them drop the weapon. Caretaker snatched it up immediately and took several steps back, their heart hammering in their chest as they realised just how close they'd come to losing Whumpee.

"Just fucking do it, goddammit!" Whumpee yelled, but they sounded weaker than before. Their speech was becoming... garbled and difficult to understand, and the involuntary muscle spasms came quicker and quicker, one after the other until Whumpee was but a convulsing mess on the floor.

Caretaker wanted to help. They wanted to turn them onto their side and make sure they didn't choke, or whatever the protocol was in this situation, they couldn't even remember, what if they made it worse– But they never got the chance.

Whumpee's body changed within seconds. Their skin tore and their bones cracked as the infection forced them into a new shape, their limbs bending in unnatural ways and taking on an entirely new appearance. Their back split open with a sickening squelch, several tentacles sprouting from the wound like an octopus was trying to escape from inside.

Caretaker screamed and tried to run off, but something wrapped around their ankle and made them trip. The thing yanked them back effortlessly, and they soon found themself trapped under Whumpee's new, monstrous body, with rows of sharp teeth uncomfortably close to their throat.

"Stop!" they shrieked, but the creature — their friend — showed no signs of understanding them. "Whumpee, stop it! Please! Stop!"

Drops of saliva landed on their cheeks as the thing gnashed its teeth and prepared to tear their throat out, and Caretaker acted on instinct. The sound of the gun going off was unbearably loud, rivalled only by the pained cry of the monster. It was an utterly inhumane sound that grated on Caretaker's ears, and they wasted no time getting away from it. They didn't turn to look where the bullet had hit it.

They opened the door and slammed it shut as soon as they were outside, but Whumpee, or what had remained of them, crashed into it within the next second. Its arm broke through the wood and managed to scratch Caretaker, making them yelp and give up on the idea that locking the stupid thing would do anything.

They had to run. They had to run fast.

They weren't even at the stairs when the thing got out, and the way it moved sounded like the biggest spider was chasing them down. They jumped over several steps while blindly shooting backwards, only guessing that some of the bullets had hit from the way the monster shrieked.

"I'm sorry!" they cried. "Whumpee, please! Leave me alone! I'm sorry!"

The creature was faster than them, and in a last ditch effort, Caretaker spun around and tried to aim for its head. They should've honoured Whumpee's wish. They should've done this while their friend was still human. They were the worst fucking friend.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

It collapsed in a heap not too far from Caretaker, too many limbs twitching with entirely too much life for something that had been shot this many times. It was still growling and groaning, and... Caretaker suddenly had an outlandish idea.

If it wasn't dying... If it was just incapacitated... If it could be dragged around safely... The basement door was solid metal... There was some rope in the garage...

They looked at the monster's gruesome face and thought of Whumpee's soft features. What if they could still undo this? What if they could bring them back? What if Whumpee's consciousness was still in there, trapped and waiting to be freed?

"I'll help," Caretaker choked out. "I'll help you. I'll make this right. I'll– I'll get you back. I swear."

[strawberry-spectre]

Kieran Valentine Analysis

I love Valentine so damn much because although everything we know abt him is so limited he's still such an interesting character with so much depth. (buckle in cuz this a long one-) (￣y▽,￣)╭

The way he kept stealing love because he thought that's what he was suppose to do caused by his struggle between his sense of morality and what he felt compelled to do is always so interesting to me. Even more so since the reasons for this type of struggle could be caused by a feeling of dissatisfaction with his own life. It makes sense because in his diary, esp May 3rd, it implies that the only reason he was stealing love was to fit in and his lack of identity as an emotional vampire. I find it interesting however, that he wrote 'I thought that's what emotional vampires were supposed to do', does that mean he came to that conclusion himself or was he influenced by other, more expeirenced vampires? Maybe he saw how some of the blood drinking vampires took as much blood from their victims as they wished without feeling guilty about it and applied that to his situation? Maybe he wasn't shown any better way so he took what he could and ran with it? Another thing is how he wrote 'But I was just a real pain in the fang to everyone and made a fool of myself'. While it obviously is talking about the Drac 1600th event I wonder if he has also felt this way before that? Like 400, 600, even 1000 years ago? Also, if he knows internally, all along that what he was doing was wrong, how did he feel when he saw that shelf of broken heart trophy collection? In the movie he was pretty smug about it but what if it's another facade?

This is a pretty far fetched theory but what if those 3 gigachad clouds are the physical embodiments of Valentine's thoughts and expectations he has for himself? I mean some of the symbolisms that clouds carry are:

burdens

secrets (like an invisible message)

emotions (how fitting-)

difficult times

Of course clouds also have positive symbolisms like transition, which is kinda funny because once he started to realise what he was doing, and chose to change his ways, those clouds also disappeared. And if those clouds are the embodiments of his expectations then it makes sense why they always follow Valentine around, always says something that compliments what Val says, and why Val always seems to be putting on a performance when they're around (its a subtle difference but it's there).

And now Valentine is healing from all of that, I really love how he runs into trouble along the way but manages to fix it because it's so realistic and I love it sm. I also love how even after he realises what love really is, makes atrempts to better himself, make it up to the people he's hurt and meet a new friend (Spelldon), he still has those days where he's depressed (I was tempted to stay in my room today and treat myself to a monstrous blue funk), but he still chooses to make the decision of walking aimlessly instead of staying in his room. Like bros better than I could ever be and it shows how the path to healing isnt just 'boom I'm happy I'm fine' but rocky and filled with ups and downs.

When he met Whisp, he tried to use his wishes to solve his problems for him but it didn't work. Because you can't just fix all your problems and pretend like it never happened, you have to accept it and try to be better. Just a little analysis on this one sentence ''I've never had a friend like her, and once my last wish is granted, the lantern will move on, and I will probably never see her again''. It feels strangely depressing in a way that I can't explain, esp the 'the lantern will move on, and I will probably never see her again'. Is this implying that Valentine was afraid that Whisp would forget him? Or maybe that he sees Whisp as better than him and will succeed in becoming a better monster while he sees his attempts as futile? I think that Valentine was afraid that Whisp was simply doing her job and didn't see him as a friend (even tho thats not true), so could this be a sign that he's still struggling with insecurity with his self-worth? I mean it's only been like 3 months but still-

Like I think the reason why I love him sm is because he's such a deep character with the 5 bits of info we got on him and I see so much of myself in him :,)) I honestly don't think any of this was planned by the MH team and it was a 'oh haha it fits' thing but still (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`)(;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`) And I love how Valentine ends his diary with "Yes, Mother, I'm talking to myself down here." like bro canonically talks to himself he's so me (✿◕‿◕✿)

watch this flop lmao

[pianocat939]

Eaten Little Bird

Tw: mentions of murder, drowning, manipulation, provoking, lying, taunting, gaslighting I think

Okay so I’ve been researching for mythology. I’m always looking for things from different cultures that like isn’t commonly talked about, just simply because I think it’s fun.

This character is based off the myth of Ninki Nanka from West Africa. There’s quite a few depictions of it, such as having a giraffe neck and head, but crocodile body. But I’m going off a 2006 interview data where the people describe it as something similar to that of a Chinese dragon. Except that it has 3 horns and doesn’t fly. It roams swamps and rivers of Southern Gambia. Apparently, it has a fatal stare similar to Medusa. Except you die, not turn into stone.

Here’s the Wiki link: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ninki_Nanka

Anyway, time to start writing!

MC first meets this monstrous person campus’ nearby lake. There’s quite a few bench to watch the birds and animals.

One night MC just sits there watching the animals. They’re really stressed over a few exams coming up. They’re trying to plan how they’ll study and what times they’ll study each subject.

They start to mumble to themselves what assignments they need to review and what things they need to ask for help on. When suddenly, a splash echoes through the night.

They flinch whilst they’re seated on the bench. They see a guy. He has 3 horns heading backwards in waves. Yellow eyes covered in shades peek through the twists that cover most of his forehead.

“Stop mumblin’ about school bro, makes me feel so icky. Ain’t nobody wanna hear that.” He makes a dramatic frown before grinning.

“What’s got you so up tight huh?”

MC stares at him. Not knowing how to react for a minute. They are a human after all. A rare thing amongst the university students. They notice his dark teal scales. A reptilian it seemed.

“…uh…I just have a few exams..” They spoke hesitantly. He looked so menacing with his claws just scraping the lake shore like that.

“Oh I see. Sucks man. What’s your name?” His sharp fangs gleamed in the moonlight, giving him more of an ominous presence.

“MC.”

“Are you a human? I hardly ever see those guys.” His eyes trail all over you. Like he had no shame over the fact he’s literally staring at you.

“Yeah I am. What are you?” MC asks, fidgeting with their coat zipper.

“I’m a Ninki Nanka. Swamp monster basically. Lethal eyes man.” He pushes up his shades. His eyes glow through the shades. But it seemed the shades blocked the lethal part of his gaze.

“Ah- I still don’t know your name.” MC doesn’t why they’re continuing to ask him these questions. But they couldn’t stop. They were curious.

“Hiɛi Enyɔ.” He spoke, his tongue sticking out a bit. It was a forked tongue like a snake.

“What?” MC tilts their head a bit, not recognizing the sounds.

“Just call me Enyo. It’s easier.” He bluntly stated.

“Ah okay. What are you doing out here? Swimming?” MC questions, kicking the dirt lightly with their foot.

“Yeah. Just relaxin’.” He nods propping his head with his head. “Shouldn’t you be studying now? You blabbering about studying math or something at 9:30 or somethin’.”

MC straightens up. Remembering the reason they were even at the lake in the first place. “Right! Well, it was nice meeting you!” They quickly stand and start walking back to their dorm.

Enyo smirks, flipping up his shades. He slaps his tail against the surface of the water, splashing the liquid. “I think I found myself a new little bird to feed on.”

——————————————————

Enyo is on the swim team! He’s really fast and super confident. So he naturally succeeds.

He’s pretty popular with the sea creatures…but also not. You either love him or hate him.

He’s super chill, but likes to taunt people to play with them. Especially if he wants to provoke his enemies.

He becomes interested in MC when he notices how they clueless they are to their surroundings. How literally he could bite their head off in an instant if he wanted to.

But also, he likes how nervous they seem to be around him. It makes him feel attractive (more like MC is slightly uncomfortable from his aura).

He’s not possessive. In fact he likes playing with his rivals. But, he’s the kind of guy to play with his food before making a lethal move. He’ll provoke his enemies, saying he’s been in MC’s room. How he’s able to touch their hand whenever.

Then, he just simply says something like, “I lied” or “Just kidding, I did more.”

On the other side, he’ll tell MC who’s not fun to hang out with to keep them away from his rivals.

As a Yan, he likes to show off the fact that MC is his. In a lot of ways. One of favourites being grooming them. Similar to that of a cat. Not their hair, but maybe their cheek or something. MC can be put off by it sometimes.

He can be manipulative, in a way that he tries to make MC unsure of their ability to make decisions. So that they’ll ask for his help when making them.

He’s not a constant snuggles kind of monster. No he likes really tight hugs before taking a nibble.

Will he murder? Yes. With his eyes if they work on the monster. If not he tries to ruin their reputation or drown them.

“Baby, are you sure you should be hanging out with that guy? He’s kinda mean.”

——————————————————

(Did I bullshit this while being sleepy? Absolutely. So obviously unedited.)

This was just a general first interaction + character basis

This one was pretty fun! I think I’ll do a Korean or Chinese myth next.

Any thoughts are appreciated.

- Celina

[sarah-ankh]

Hi hi, moving the Medusa discussion to an ask instead of the tags on that post, but yes! In the earliest version, there was no curse! This accidentally got kinda long, so no pressure to give a lengthy response :)

Per the accounts recorded by Hesiod, Medusa and her two immortal sisters were Gorgons. You may already be familiar with Gorgons via the Iliad and Odyssey, but i dont remember how much detail Homer goes into about them... Regardless, according to Hesiod - and later Apollodorus - they were monsters born of the primordial sea gods Phorcys and Ceto (or, if Euripides is more your style, born of Gaia). The Gorgons were said to be so monstrous and so horrifying to look at that ordinary people would turn to stone out of sheer terror. After her murder, her two sisters tried to kill Perseus.

As for the relationship between Medusa and Known Monsterfucker Poseidon, according to Hesiod they "lay with [each other] in a soft meadow amid spring flowers." Chrysaor and Pegasus were conceived then (probably), and they were born from her blood when Perseus killed her.

(This isn't to say the Gods are innocent, even in Medusa's story alone - it's Athena and Hermes who, at Zeus's command, help Perseus to kill her despite no real wrongdoing on her part.)

I do see value in the Roman version, and also in the 20th c. feminist interpretations of that version. Stories that allow oppressed classes to see their pain portrayed in a way that can connect them to an ancient tradition of surviving, and characters who can become symbols of anger, of injustice, and of righteous revenge always have their place. Personally, though, I prefer the older one because what greater truth is there than to be born a monster and killed for it, but still loved* along the way?

*referring to her sisters, not Poseidon - not gonna try to make a call either way on that one lol

Anyway, there's a tumblr post that discusses the history of the myth - I like that it looks at artistic depictions through history as reference, so I linked it if that interests you :)

Oooooh, I see. That's cool. I was aware that there were 3 gorgons but not of how they were connected.

I do like your interpretation, and I might have to borrow it for a story of my own. But in terms of allegory I think I prefer the Roman version.

Not to be born a monster, because I don't think anyone is truly born a monster, but to be transformed into something monstrous by how you are treated and perceived by others. Even in the original as you retell it the gorgons did nothing evil, the thing that made them monsters was the mortals rejection of them based on appearance. The horror the mortals felt from looking at them.

In sociology there's a concept called the master label. This is something society applies to you often against your will, that changes their treatment of you. And it can become inescapable. The common example is 'criminal'. Once you are perceived as a criminal it changes everything, it makes life measurably more difficult, strips you of options, isolates you.

Any label can become a master label, and it's why stereotypes are so harmful. As an individual who is both autistic and trans, the way these labels are perceived by the general public can have major implications for my life, and I cannot escape them without destroying myself because they are a part of who I am.

I also deeply resonate with the impulse to act out, to drive people away, to become a monster in order to protect yourself from those who would use and hurt you.