#so that line doesn’t exactly work .. but i also DO NOT want to remove it cuz i love it so much

[sparklingcid3r]

CW: discussions of suicide/suicidal ideation

Scorching hot take about to come in, but I think that Darry’s line about Dally killing himself because he “gave up” actually does fit the character that the musical made Darry into. I’m not saying it’s a good way to view the situation or even a message that should be imparted at the end of the show, but I think that specific perspective of what suicide is aligns with the Darry we got to know.

You don’t have to agree, but let me explain🙏

There are a few ways that a viewer can interpret Darry’s character. In my opinion, suicidal is one of them. Darry equates suicide with giving up because it’s what he would do if he ever gave up, if he ever lost Pony and Soda the way Dally lost Johnny.

But I also want to say that just because he equates the two in his head doesn’t mean they actually are synonymous. I mean, Darry’s not exactly someone whose word you take at face-value for a lot of the show when he’s talking about his feelings, save for a few vulnerable moments.

When he is being vulnerable and you know that these are his core feelings, undisguised by the need to be strong, it’s during “Runs in the Family” (very sparsely, but there are small clues), and “Throwing in the Towel.” Especially in TITT, he expresses what can be perceived as suicidal ideation, which we’ll get to very quickly.

Because it’s one line in RITF, I can’t really harp on it as much as I’d like to, but Darry says “I don’t know what them boys would ever do without me, and what would I do on my own?” Obviously we never find out what Darry thinks he’d be doing on his own, so you can really only make loose, debatable inferences. Because of that, you can take the fact that Darry is a very goal-oriented person, then take the fact that he knows he would not have anything to work for if his brothers were gone, and combine them to say that Darry might very well just give up.

Darry’s suicidal ideation comes out the most in TITT. He literally says “Maybe you’d be best without me.” He never specifies what “without him” looks like, he leaves that up for Soda (and the audience) to interpret, but three ideas stick out to me:

1. Him giving Soda and Pony up to a boys home

2. Him having never been born at all

3. Him removing himself from their lives permanently (suicide)

Whether he feels one, two, or all three, two out of the three express either ideation or blatant suicidal thoughts.

It also explains why Darry is so insistent on Pony just snapping out of his depression following Dally and Johnny’s deaths. He’s seeing his brother go through the same tired, despondent motions that he did in the beginning of TITT, on the road to giving up.

What Darry doesn’t understand is that Pony truly giving up looks different than Darry truly giving up (I have a feeling that Pony would turn towards drugs and addiction if he hit rock bottom, but that’s another convo for another time), and because Darry is projecting his own version of giving up onto Pony, he’s terrified of his youngest brother doing something so drastic and permanent. Even if that’s not the reality of the situation, it’s what he believes, so it’s what he talks about.

[keroppri]

i didn't pay any mind with the dates in my fanfic and now nothing in the timeline makes any sense 😭😭😭😭

[astonmartingf]

HAVEN'T MET YOU YET ; JB22

jenson button x fem!reader

. . . slowing down as the high life of the party, jenson turns a new leaf and thinks optimistically about his plans in the future concerning his love life.

amgf finally moving the last couple works 😭 i definitely procrastinated moving these because they're so long and quite frankly i chose to study than move these but now i have time, i can't escape i need to do this for the alo fic to be posted

death of a bachelor ; masterlist

Frozen in front of his hotel room, muttering a string of curses to himself Jenson stood still tracing back the events that led him to this.

Making his way to the front door, Jenson was faced with an eager German and an Australian fellow trailing behind him. With raised brows, Jenson opened the doors wider letting both men inside.

“Are you coming with us tonight?” Sebastian, wasting no time, asked diving into his kept bed making Mark grimace.

“I’m actually choosing to stay in, rest early for tomorrow.” Jenson nods, convincing himself of his plans to stay in. This doesn’t go unnoticed as Sebastian shared a look with Mark before turning his head towards Jenson.

Uncharacteristically for the Briton, Webber expressed his confusion first with raised eyebrows, “You’re staying in? Why?”

Shrugging, Jenson pushes Seb to make space for himself. “I just don’t want to go outside, also there’s practice tomorrow. I don't want to go out for drinks.”

“Okay. we’re not necessarily going out for drinks. Just dinner, walking around the town, maybe a few light drinks here and there.” Sebastian sits up in an attempt to convince Jenson to come out with them. Noticing his reluctance the German looks up to Mark for support.

“Is this about the headlines about you?” Sebastian let out a small groan, brows furrowed directed towards Mark as he mouths “What about discreet do you not understand?”

Mark scoffs in reply, keeping his hands in his pockets, tired of the German’s antics. The exchange however left Jenson smiling to himself, which was a win for the two.

“Are you here to distract and cheer me up?”

Pressing his lip into a thin line in admittance, Sebastian looks over toward Jenson who’s been silent for quite some time.

Breaking the silence, Mark removes his hands from his pocket walking near to Jenson ina soft voice speaking, “If you don’t want to, you don’t-”

“I’ll go”

“Really?” Perking up, Sebastian hurried jumps off the bed pulling Jenson towards the front door.

“Okay we’re going now.” Hooking his arms to both men, Mark drags both of them outside.

Shit.

Exactly. Letting Sebastian and Mark drag him downtown for dinner was the plan, yet somehow the trio managed to lose each other as the night came, assuming the pair had gone over for drinks at some local bar. Jenson didn’t want to be associated with that, not at the moment that is.

Because as much as Jenson tried to hide it, their words were eating at him every time. And just like the rumors say, somewhere in between he believed them, and in turn began to question his own character.

Fuck.

Rubbing his eyes awake, Jenson looked around the hallway looking for anyone familiar who could help him. With no phone, no key card, and in a different country there’s no one he could truly contact to ask for help. Opting to sleep out on the hallways for the night, Jenson was on the verge of giving up.

“Excuse me, sir? Are you okay?”

English.

Jenson looks up, unsure if it was the jetlag, the light drinks, or the lack of sleep in his system but Jenson knew what was in front of him was an angel, his savior, he knew then and there he would give her everything- despite him not having anything at the moment.

“I’m not.” Stopping himself, Jenson chose his words carefully. Shocked at his own honesty, this was the first time he felt vulnerable. He can’t help but open up to such a beautiful stranger, even when he goes over his thoughts, everything is hazy.

“I’m locked out of my room with no phone, no wallet to even get a new one because my friends convinced me to go out. Not that I blame them, I was moping and being sad, and they had good intentions, I said I wouldn’t go out for drinks, and somewhere in between I lost them. I don’t know how I ended up back in the hotel, but I just want to sleep.” Jenson yawned in between his rant, leaning towards the wall, eyes drifting to sleep.

“Do you maybe want to sleep in my room?” Jenson turned his head, now you truly were his savior. But despite his excitement, Jenson couldn’t help but frown to himself.

“I wouldn’t want to impose on you. I’m sorry you had to sit with me on the floor, listening to me rant about my day.”

Chuckling you stood up in front of him, that’s when Jenson thought- he’d never have a chance with you. You were choosing to walk away, which is understandable since he was nothing but a mere stranger. To you, he could be lying just to find a way in your room, something he had done before.

Now he is crushed that karma has gotten back to him by letting him meet the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, when he’s on the lowest of lows and never to be seen again.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed. Fortunately for you I happened to pass by you and your friends earlier, it’s Mark right?”

Grabbing your hand, Jenson laughs before introducing himself, “That’s my friend, I’m Jenson.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Jenson. I’m Y/N, I stay in the room at the end of the hallway. Let’s get you to sleep, I wouldn’t want you to end your night on such a sad note. Especially after your friends tried to cheer you up.”

“Thank you Y/N, you’re actually my savior.”

jensonbutton

liked by yourusername, aussiegrit, and 1,640,462 others

jensonbutton four months ago you met me and i was at my worst yet welcomed me with open arms.

staying with me when i was locked out of my hotel room, i thought of you as my savior and i remember saying that before falling asleep.

listening to my worries as a stranger, i didn't think we'd grow as friends and eventually lovers. since the day we met my day hasn't ended on such a sad note.

yourusername i love you and i'm glad to be a part of your life. i'm thankful that i'm with you now, and always.

view 857,248 comments...

aussiegrit i'm happy for you two 🤍

sebastianvettel aren't you glad we invited you out, or else you wouldn't have met each other

jensonbutton okay thank you seb and mark

aussiegrit you're acting like we were there, we literally left him alone in the middle of the night, i'm sorry jense

jensonbutton you dragged me out and left me, if it wasn't for y/n i would be sleeping in the hallway

sebastianvettel thank you yourusername you're cute together and i'm taking the credit ☺️

user1 wait jensey/n lore????

user2 i thought of you as my savior 😭😭😭 hello?

user3 it's always i love you and never "SINCE THE DAY WE MET MY DAY HASN'T ENDED ON SUCH A SAD NOTE" 🥹😤😭🥹😤😭😤🥹😭😤

user4 how are we feeling everyone?

user5 happy crying 😭😭😭

user6 MY PARENTS >>>>> i called it

user7 have y'all seen yn's post 🥹

user8 i love them your honor 🥲

yourusername

liked by jensonbutton and 98,734 others

yourusername four months, since the day i met you. in such a short time i've seen your highs and lows and even then i knew that i wanted to be with you.

you changed my life and i'm constantly proud of you, i won't stop reminding you on how deserving you are of every good thing in life.

you fill me with pride, joy, and i'm so lucky to be with you. since then i knew that i wouldn't let your night end on such a sad note.

jensonbutton i love you so much.

comments are limited by the user.

jensonbutton thank you for giving me a chance to show my love to you.

[leighsartworks216]

No Alarms and No Surprises, Please

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

I had this idea and decided to write it "real quick" (it took like two hours). I meant to do just like a really short thing so I could eat lunch and then get back to work, but then my brain was like no we gotta set up context

Titled after the song "No Surprises" by Radiohead. It doesn't exactly fit, but it felt right in my mind

Warnings: mentions of murder, tense moments, injury, burning flesh, bruises, bones breaking, blood mention, nausea mention, angst, literal hurt/comfort, soft Astarion moments

Word Count: 1,863

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You peeked slowly around the corner, holding your breath. Astarion hovered just behind you, almost touching you as you both surveyed your surroundings.

It was a palace, that much you knew. You also knew the guards were exceptionally strong. You already wasted enough healing spells and potions on the two guarding the door - you were just lucky they didn’t call for reinforcements. You also knew there was an artifact deep within the heart of this place that could provide some insight into removing the tadpoles.

“We’ll have to go around,” you breathe out slowly to the spawn. He gives a slight nod. As much as he loved bloodshed, sneak-killing all of them would be too high a risk. You almost came face to face with him when you look over your shoulder. He gives you a knowing smirk as he backs off. You nod down a side-hall. “That way.”

You gesture to Gale and Shadowheart, making sure they knew the plan. They nodded, waiting. You turn back to the patrolling sentinels. Their movements are constant and predictable, each pace following the same amount of steps. They sync, facing away from your destination, and you wave a hand for a companion to go.

Gale, ever the gentleman, lets Shadowheart go first. She hides behind the wall, out of sight. You wait again and gesture for Gale to go. He bites back complaints about his knees that creak under the duress of sneaking. He arrives just as a guard turns. Astarion could hear your heart thumping wildly in your chest; it pounds so loud in your ears you can’t even hear the guards’ footsteps anymore.

He wraps a hand around your waist, carefully pulling you away from the corner. You stare at him, worried he’s noticed something wrong. He nods toward the hall where your companions wait. “You first,” he whispers.

You want to argue - he can see the wheels turning in your head as you frown at him. As the de facto leader, you always worked to ensure everyone else was safe before you. You rested a little easier knowing you’d be the one in harm's way should something go wrong. But Astarion was a rogue, and used to sneaking around to boot. He would be much better at timing his dash to the hall than you could.

After a moment, you nodded. He pushed you back to his prior spot as he takes your place, poking an eye around the corner and studying them. He thought you’d die of a heart attack if this went on any longer. When the guards turn, he taps your waist. You crouch as quickly as you can to Gale and Shadowheart. They greet you with a tense nod.

You wait in silence for Astarion.

He almost spooks you when he comes silently around the corner. But now, further from the immediate threat, you have a chance to breathe.

The hallway stretches on for what seems like forever. Closed doors and open arch-ways line each side, perfectly mirrored. At the end, there’s a very small statue - but you’re sure it’s life size up close. The prospect of a maze with the ever-looming fear of getting caught doesn’t exactly thrill you, nor any of your companions, but nothing can be done for it.

You sigh and lead them onward.

It’s too risky to peek inside the rooms - if there were patrols inside you’d all be jumped and killed within minutes. At each arch, you glance around the corner, down the other equally as endless corridors. It’s oddly quiet. Not a guard in sight, even on grander doors that seem like they should be protected. It leaves you on edge. Waiting for the boot to drop and leave you in mortal peril. At the very least, you feel safe enough to stand up. It saves you from Gale’s grumbling.

You peer around another corridor and try to imagine the layout of the palace. You’d found a map once, but it was too tattered to make anything useful out. The most information you gleaned from it was where the staircases were. If you could find your way to one of those, you’d be able to go down, deeper into the belly of the beast. You believe, if your slipping memory of the map was correct, you could turn down this way and go all the way to the end, and there would be stairwells on either side of the very-tiny-life-sized-statue.

Resolved to your plan, you step through the ornate marble arch. You feel the pain before you register where it’s coming from. You collapse to the floor, cushioned only by a strong arm and solid body. A hand clamps over your mouth, pressing down tight to keep any sound from slipping through.

Oh. That breathless tightness in your chest is not from the pain. It’s you screaming. Trying to, at least. Your eyes dart frantically around as your body writhes against the person holding you. Gale and Shadowheart appear in front of you, kneeling down and working as fast as they can to help.

One of your legs feels weighed down. You stare at the chunk of metal for too long before it finally registers the trap clamping down on your leg. It looks and acts like a bear trap, but it’s been improved to burn red-hot when activated.

Fear grips you like a vice. You become conscious of the fact the teeth of the trap are almost meeting. It’s bitten through your bone. Or nearly through, anyway. You didn’t process it, too busy being victimized by the sadistic mechanics of the device, but Astarion, Shadowheart and Gale all felt nauseous as the crack continues to echo in their mind.

“Shh,” comes a whisper by your ear. You whimper and gasp and struggle, but the arm around your waist only re-wraps around you to pin your arms down. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

Astarion looks away from your injury, peering down the halls. The sound of the bone snapping was loud enough to attract attention, he just didn’t know how much, or when they’d be coming. Not to mention where they’d come from. For all he knew, their luck had run out, and any second a swarm of golden-armored bastards would be charging down the hall they were in.

“We need to get out of the open,” he hissed to the cleric and wizard.

Gale cast an ice spell, focusing all his energy in freezing the hinge of the device. If he could get it cold enough, it would become brittle, and they could dismantle it and pull it from your leg like cracking open an oyster. Shadowheart focused on healing the burns being inflicted to your skin as they were happening. It smelled uncomfortably like meat roast. Your blood vessels were cauterized. Astarion could hardly take solace in the fact when the usually-delicious scent of your ichor was replaced with the smell of cooking flesh.

“We can’t move them yet,” Shadowheart whispered, barely biting back her panic. She couldn’t keep healing you forever.

Gale grunted, brow furrowing further as he willed the ice to freeze faster, freeze colder around the metal.

Astarion felt useless, watching and unable to help. Holding you while you thrashed in agony was all he could do. He hoped to the gods he wouldn’t reveal a bruise over your mouth when this was finished. “I’m here,” he whispered sweetly in your ear. It was all he could think to do. “You need to keep still, love. It’ll be over soon.”

The words didn’t reach. You knew he was speaking when his breath fanned over your ear, but the speech-centers of your brain were thoroughly turned off. As were any of the logic-centers. Anything that could have told you they were helping, to calm down and stop moving, was replaced instead with klaxons and sirens urging you to struggle and fight back against the pain.

Footsteps. Loud and clanging. Getting closer. Astarion cursed. “We have to hide,” he hissed again, panicked.

There was no time to argue. They all seemed to have the same idea as Astarion pushed himself across the floor with his legs, pulling you with him. Shadowheart and Gale stopped casting in favor of moving your legs, as carefully as they could possibly manage. Hot tears slipped over Astarion’s hand as you thrashed violently with the motion. But now, at least, you were tucked into a corner. Hidden behind a pillar that framed the arch of the hallway. Everyone held their breaths. You didn’t catch the memo, but the spell-casters held your legs down so you wouldn’t make as much noise.

The clanging of armor rose in volume until the echoes through the corridors nearly deafened everyone. You momentarily stopped fighting. Though, Astarion couldn’t tell if it was because the sound had reached past your pain, or if your body was giving out under the duress.

The steps - 3 guards, if Astarion had to guess by ear - slowed from a run to pacing the juncture of the halls. They circled around, stopping occasionally. One set of steps stopped mere feet away. If Astarion leaned forward slightly, he could make out the point of a nose. Shadowheart and Gale slowly pressed themselves back into the shadow of the pillar.

Something touching his hand startled him. He had to fight not to physically jump and draw attention. A hand, your hand, rested weakly over his. He let go of your arm and turned his hand to hold yours. He could feel you whimper in his hold, the shake of your breaths as they hit hot against his hand. You were scared. He was, too.

He squeezed your hand and looked back at the pillar. The steps hadn’t moved. The sentry was still there.

Seconds ticked away at a snail’s pace. They all worried for a moment the guards had chosen to stay there and patrol the intersection. Then the sentinel stepped back from the arch. More footsteps followed. A pause. He could only imagine they were silently saying they did not find anything. And then the cacophony of armor drowned out any last doubt as they retreated back down the hall.

They all let out sighs of relief, even Astarion who had no need for air. He turned his focus back down to you. Your eyes were shut, your breaths were evened out. You’d fallen unconscious. It was a small mercy.

“Hurry up so we can get the Hells out of here,” he huffed. Shadowheart and Gale nodded, equally as eager to get back to safety, and returned to work.

Astarion slowly removed his hand from your mouth. Light bruises where his fingertips had been began rising through the surface of your skin. He sighed, upset at the pain he caused even through necessity, and brushed a tender kiss over the darkest of the bunch. He was too overwhelmed with relief to care if the others saw him. “You’ll be alright,” he whispered again, even though they did not reach you. He was reassuring himself more than anything. It would have been pathetic, if he could think about anything other than your wellbeing. “I’m here, darling.”

---

Tag List:

@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars

[lili-of-the-wildfire]

okay fine, u all forced my hand in this one. these are MY azzie headcanons, mostly based on what’s canon in the books but i’m nothing if not a woman who would have been forcefully lobotomized so there’s also some delusion sprinkled in. enjoy 😙 (not proof read or correctly punctuated or even coherently arranged, we die like men on this blog)

* he may be a bit quiet in some situations, especially when meeting people who’s intentions he hasn’t quite figured out yet, but if he does nothing else, he’ll offer up a small smile in greeting. he’s not just going to sit there aloof in a corner, sans introduction.

* he’s a total vibe reader tho, his line of work has made sure of that. like he just knows when something is off about someone even if there is evidence saying otherwise. and he’s right every time, damn him.

* he tucks his hands behind his back out of habit, not necessarily shame. he used to be far more insecure, but as the centuries dragged on, he’s become less and less ashamed of what was done to him as a defenseless child.

* that’s not to say he’s fully healed and moved forward, just that time has given him some perspective and wisdom.

* (btw he loves hand massages with your lavender and lemon verbena lotion and he is not afraid to admit it)

* when he gets himself into trouble he tries to slink off into the shadows slowly, instead of disappearing all at once. nobody has a problem calling him out on it, but sometimes he honestly does get away with it.

* he has TASTE! he took one look at cassian and feyre’s gods awful decorating and didn’t even remove his outside clothes before he was fixing it.

* he and his mate’s house would look like something out of a Williams Sonoma holiday catalog.

* the two of you would put up lebron numbers on a joint pinterest account in a modern au.

* he’s quick as a whip with his dry humor and comebacks, and while cassian may be his main target, the two of them combined?? Mr. your mother and Mr. two hundred years at least TOGETHER? jesus it’s a wonder rhys came out of Illyria with the ego that he did.

* he differs from his brothers in that PDA is not his jam. he’s not getting blowjobs at the dining room table or fucking in tents while people die outside. he’s definitely not fingering you for the first time in a shabby inn, either. he’s more publicly reserved than that because he favors romance more.

* you know how rhys/feyre and cassian/nesta fucked before they were in any sort of relationship? azzie’s not doing that with someone he genuinely wants to pursue a relationship with.

* consider the following: does a man who’s spent centuries pining after the same woman come off as anything other than a romantic? no, lovely reader, not in the slightest.

* he’s got the softest heart, i just know it. while he’s kind, he has his reserved exterior, but i think once you get past that as a relationship develops, he’s so tender and thoughtful.

* his gift to nesta was so personal and thoughtful despite their superficial relationship, and he expected nothing in return. imagine what he could come up with for someone he knew on a more personal and intimate level!!

* his gifts may not be as over-the-top extravagant as Rhys would prefer, but they’re so well-planned and personal because he actually listens to you! and he watches you! and he takes the time to actually think about what would be useful and meaningful for you (Mor could NEVER, luv u tho baby)

* while he’s not overtly sexual, Azriel is a FLIRT! a shameless flirt! he doesn’t need to resort to poetry because when you exasperatedly tell him “stop trying to distract me, I’m busy!” he just arches a thick brow, looks you up and down and says “make me.”

* BROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

* And your cheeks heat a bit because he’s looking at you like he knows exactly what you’d taste like and he’s starving for it and then he just laughs and you realize you’re a fly that got stuck in those honey-trap eyes again

* So you huff and roll your eyes, turning to leave the room but a hand on your wrist tugs your momentum backwards and suddenly there’s another hand cupping your cheek, thumb stroking along your jawline.

* A deep hum rumbles from the back of his throat, his gaze dragging from your mouth up to your eyes, “Do that again, I like watching your eyes roll back for me.”

* ladies/theydies i am PROFUSELY sweating !!!!!!!!!

[hezuart]

Thoughts on the “Look my Way” music video? For context if you don’t know, this is a fan song that’s just animated. Paranoid DJ had written this song awhile back, though Viv did take out some lyrics and switch them up a bit. What I personally don’t like is that there’s a line in the original where Stolas mentions the “impish play thing” line, as well as acknowledges that Octavia is hurting, and Viv cut that out. The song itself also doesn’t help for the show narratively really regarding the ship of Stolitz.

OMYGOD Okay so much to talk about here. It's a BEAUTIFUL song, amazing song, and I even loved the original of it. The animation for this AMV is breathtaking, everyone did an AMAZING job on it. This is what Helluva Boss songs should sound like. I was annoyed with that one scene, albeit very pretty where Stolas and Blitz have a string attached to the pinky finger, which is an indication of soulmates. This bothers me because a soulmate is either A. someone you have been reincarnated with over the years to love or B. Someone you click with- someone who completes you. You meet in every lifetime or they are the perfect person for you. This does not fit Stolas X Blitz AT ALL. They are not perfect for each other, they are complete opposites and the entire appeal and beauty of their relationship was the fact that they were fuckbuddies! They weren't even friends! They were tied up in manipulations, classism, and power imbalances. Their relationship required a lot of growth, a lot of work, and a LOT of learning on what love actually was, how to maintain it, and how to right their wrongs like-They needed to actively explore and learn what love means. They needed to find a real connection that would actually give them chemistry. Being soulmates is a complete cop-out. (Soulmates don't rely on reincarnation, but some do- and reincarnation is not a thing for demons???) You could say I'm overthinking it and being nitpicky with this visual, but this is exactly what it is! That is a soulmate string!!! He even says "I'll grant you this mercy, this bind on our souls-" LIKE BRUH wHAT !!! I'm so mad about what their relationship has become. They were toxic but not doomed. Now they're nothing Anyway..... still very beautiful and pretty

I have friends who actually know this guy and work closely with him. Apparently, Viv was the one who asked to change the lyrics of the song because it didn't "fit her story"???????? The lyrics changed: OG: "Come now, my little impish plaything, we both made our choice" Viv: "But dearest, I know better now I must give you this choice" It makes sense why she would want this changed since this song is about Stolas actually finally being in love. But it's still very sus because we still have not addressed Stolas's classism problem that seems to fluctuate episode to episode. OG: "Is this how she'd feel? Abandoned, all alone and left to fend For herself, for some semblance of happiness that doesn't have to end?" Viv: "Is this what you feel? Scorned by a realm that cannot comprehend, What you are, so I'll grant you this mercy this bind- on our souls needs to end" Again I can understand this change because we are going off-topic with Octavia here. However, I do find these changes very suspicious, especially if she wanted the song to better "fit her story". Because these circumstances are things that I have accused Viv of retconning before. Where Stolas wasn't actually in love with Blitz from the start and only saw him as a shiny toy, an "impish little plaything". Where Stolas was actually shady in cheating on his wife and not being there for his daughter nor really understanding her. "Home doesn't feel like home anymore. You ruined it." I can understand in the context of the song why these lines would be removed, but in the context of the overall story, I'm very suspicious of it, because those are very important contexts that people try to insist are "just people's headcanons" when they literally aren't. This could be considered active proof of Vivziepop retconning her story, but I will go with the latter and stick to my logical explanations for why the lyrics were changed- gonna try to have some faith here.

~~~~

Apparently, Cherri and Angel's AMV Addict was also a fan song. In THAT video, this is the description. Fully acknowledging it was a fan song, and giving clear credit to the person who made the song.

THIS. IS THE DESCRIPTION FOR "JUST LOOK MY WAY"

NO acknowledging this is a fan-made song. NO credit for Paranoid DJ. No thank you, no praise for the original, no links to the original song- He is at least in the credits, but not the description! This is insanely shady! I don't know if this was just a mistake or not, but this is really uncool. Again, he's at least in the ending credits, but... the description would make it more obvious. Vivziepop has a history of not crediting people for their work- I don't know if she was the one who made this mistake nor not.... this is not the worst it could have been, but at the very least whoever runs the youtube should fix the description out of respect.

[rorywritesjunk]

I have seen no other Who compares with you

Buggy decides you need your own 'look'. Rating: PG-13 to maybe a soft R. I can't help but write some suggestive stuff. Some being the keyword, nothing actually happens but a kiss or two. Warning: None. I know absolutely jack shit about makeup or greasepaint. A/N: Written from @sporadicthingcollection  suggestion! Thank you friend. And this is my third makeup related story and I had fun writing it as well because I wanted to keep it different from the other two. I also wrote this with LA!Buggy in mind specifically. Title comes from "Wildflowers" by Tom Petty.

“It’s all about the brand, babe.” Was what Buggy said before he forced you into the chair in front of his vanity. You wanted to protest, to insist that makeup really wasn’t your thing, but he wasn’t paying any attention at that point, too busy opening the drawers, pulling out several different trays of face paint. You eyed them suspiciously, not sure what the flashy clown captain had in mind for you.

“What brand?” You asked as he looked over the first one. “I mean, what are you planning to do to me, Buggy?”

He set the trays down before turning your chair to face the mirror. Hands on your shoulders, he leaned in with a grin. While you appreciated the makeup style he wore, it was not for you. The bones on his forehead and smudged red color around his mouth was something you liked on him but not you. However, you appreciated the glittery triangles around his eyes and how they accented the stormy color of his irises. 

You sighed in defeat and Buggy pressed a kiss to your cheek, dramatically smacking his lips against your skin with a loud MUWAH!

“First, gotta figure out your style.” Buggy said as he pulled away. “Can’t have you copying my look, of course, but maybe a look to complement it.” He spun you around in the chair so you faced him; he braced both hands on the arm rests as he leaned in towards you, your noses barely touching as he squinted, studying the features of your face. “You don’t really have a… gimmick.”

“What, warming the captain’s bed doesn’t count?” You asked, leaning towards him with a pout. This wasn’t exactly what you wanted to be doing. It wasn’t like he was insulting you, but Buggy was definitely dancing that fine line of you’re great, but- with how he was trying to figure out your makeup style, or the brand as he thought of it. 

His lips curled up into a smirk. He pulled back and reached over for a tray. Once the cover was removed, he grabbed a brush and looked over his color options. Looking at you once more, he took the tip of the makeup brush between his lips, his tongue wetting it as he twisted it slightly to get a pointed tip of the bristles. You couldn’t help but watch him do that with both a mild fascination and some level of arousal. Why is he using his mouth on the makeup brush when he could be using it on you?

He dragged the tip over a dark orange color, a shade you would see among the trees during autumn. Carefully, he raised the brush to your face, lightly moving the colorful tip from the corner of your mouth and to your cheeks, tracing a clockwise swirl on your skin. He repeated the action on your other cheek, though with a counter clockwise design. He bit his lip and tilted his head, eyes narrowing as he studied his work so far. Both sides looked even, which was important. He couldn’t have you running around with mismatched makeup after all. He had his reputation to think about. How would it look if someone on Buggy’s crew had poorly done makeup? 

He didn’t even want to think about it.

Nodding in approval to himself, he picked out a sparkly green shade next. You tried not to make a face, unsure where he was going to use that color. Your lips? Hopefully not because you had a feeling this little bonding moment you were having was going to end up with you on your knees in front of him and you really didn’t want to see him with a green dick at all. Around your eyes could work, the light would catch the glitter and make your eyes pop. Would he put it on your nose? He was sensitive about his own, and you doubted he would do anything to draw attention to your nose when he never wanted that kind of attention.

Buggy grabbed a different makeup brush, the tip going into his mouth once more before dragging it over the green color on the tray. Without a word he began dabbing it across your forehead, right above your eyebrows. You sat still for this, pleased that he was being gentle and that it wasn’t a stabbing motion you were half expecting from him. His brow furrowed and he shook his head, mumbling something before licking his thumb and wiping it over your forehead, trying to remove the green grease paint from your skin.

“No, no. I don’t like that look.” He said out loud with a sigh. “The orange swirls, yes, so maybe… leave the forehead alone. Accent the eyes and cheeks.” He crossed his arms, a hand lifting to rest on his chin thoughtfully as he studied your face with narrowed eyes. It was a little uncomfortable to be under such scrutiny, but he was the one doing all of this. You were just the canvas for his creativity at that point.

He reached out and tilted your chin up, eyes still narrowed as he concentrated. Instead, he took the first makeup brush and sucked on the tip once more, wincing at the bitter taste of the grease paint. You tried not to roll your eyes before reaching out to place your hand on his hip, tired of not touching him as he stood so close to you. He reached down to touch your hand, letting his fingers dance up your bare arm lightly before pulling away to resume his artistic creations on you. 

“Why don’t you have a glass of water or something for the brushes?” You asked as he ran the brush through the green grease paint once more. 

“Because I didn’t think that far ahead, babe.” Was his response as he handed the tray to you to hold. You took it as he took your head in his hands, tilting it back slowly as he stepped in between your legs. Okay, you saw no reason to complain now. You held the grease paint tray in one hand while the other hand stayed on his hip. He was close enough you could feel his breath on your face, but just out of reach you wouldn’t be able to lean up to kiss him without completely disrupting what he was doing, and while you loved teasing him and egging him on, you also knew when to back off. He was focused on your makeup and if you messed it up you may regret it because Buggy could be petty. He would hold off sex for as long as he was able to (only a day or so most likely) but you didn’t want to risk it.

From the corner of your eye, he tapped the brush lightly, leaving a trail of green dots along your skin and moving up to your temple. He seemed satisfied with the right side, so he repeated the pattern on your left side. Nodding and mumbling, “Yea, that’s exactly it” he dipped the brush into the green paint once more. He tilted your head again, leaning in closer as he started to draw a teardrop shape under your eye. It tickled just a bit and to your credit you didn’t budge, but when he tried to do the next eye you had to pull back just for a moment. 

“Babe.” He sighed as you reached up to carefully rub your skin. “C’mon, let’s get this finished.”

“It tickles!” You whined at him. “And not in a good way.”

“I’m almost finished.” 

You pouted at him again and he rolled his eyes. The novelty was wearing off, and you didn’t know if you wanted to keep indulging this much longer. He pulled back and sighed loudly, dropping his arms to the side as he looked down at you.

“Let me finish what I’ve started and we’ll do something you want after.” He offered. “I’m almost done, so let me finish.”

“Whatever I want?” No longer pouting, you now grinned up at him, a twinkle in your eye that told him you already had an idea of what you wanted to do, and he knew that once he was done with your makeup, it was going to end up smeared across the bedsheets and pillows. 

“Yes, whatever you want.” He retorted as he tilted your head back once more. “Now stop moving or else.”

“Mhm, that’s what you said last night.” You said cheekily. He glared down at you before touching the brush to your skin again. He took his time, wanting to ensure the teardrop matched its mate. He set the brush down and studied your face, his hand on your chin as he turned your head from side to side, making sure it was perfect.

“Getting there.” He muttered as he reached for the red lipstick now. Oh, no, was he going to use it on you? You tried to pull back but he gave your chin a squeeze. “No, you’re almost done. Another few minutes.”

You let out a whine before sinking back into the chair. He touched the pointed tip of the red pigment to the curve of your upper lip, tracing the shape carefully before ending at the corner of your mouth. He hummed in appreciation as he did the other side, admiring how the red popped with the orange on your cheeks and the green around your eyes. He had wanted your look to complement his, not be a copy, so when he applied the lipstick to your bottom lip, it took every ounce of strength not to smear the lipstick around your face like how he wore his. 

Except you were growing impatient. The second he pulled the lipstick away you reached for him and pulled him down, your lips on his as you kissed him. He managed to pull back, sighing in mild frustration as he brushed his thumb over your lower lip.

“You’re going to ruin all my hard work, babe.” He said with a pout. “I like what I started.”

“Okay, but how about we take a break and start something else?” You suggested as you reached for the front of his pants, grinning up at him. The lipstick was smeared around your mouth, no doubt around his as well, but the orange swirls and green dots were starting to work for you. Maybe lipstick wasn’t the look for you, but he had time to think of alternatives.

“Mhm, I suppose, but we aren’t done yet.” He chuckled softly. “Gives me some time to think of other ideas for you.” He reached down, his hand cupping your face as his thumb went back to your lips. You parted your lips just enough for him to push it into your mouth, earning a sigh from your captain as he closed his eyes. “I’m going to give myself plenty of time to think.”

[ollieoxyde]

Making of Siffrin model!

If anyone wanted to know how exactly I made this model I will lay it out in detail here! Although this way my first time making something like this so I’m not an expert.

The base is polymer clay (super sculpey I think) with a wire armature shoved in there just in case I drop him. The buttons for the cloak and the dagger are also clay. I used a sewing pin to get a very small hole for the buttons to be threaded through.

After baking, I put base coats of black and white with acrylic paint. If the brush strokes for the white paint are very visible, water it down and do multiple layers until it’s opaque.

After the base coat I moved on to smaller details like the face and boot heels, as well as shadows and highlights. It took me a few tries to get the face right, the one shown above isn’t the final.

It’s also a very good idea to varnish it, especially for the buttons or paint will rub off when passing them through the buttonholes. DuraClear is pretty cheap and works well. A few coats ultra-matte over the whole thing, then gloss to areas that should be shiny (eye, boots, gloves, buttons, dagger blade).

The eyepatch is just a tiny piece of black felt and some embroidery thread Elmer’s glued to the face.

The hair I was going to needle felt, but my white wool(left) was slightly yellowed and it looks weird in context. I ended up using a piece of cotton(right) from my bottle of melatonin*, shaping the ends into tufts with Elmer’s glue, letting it dry, then attaching it to the head. For the dyed parts I used watered down acrylics. I worked drop the hairline inwards, then smoothed it out with loose bits of cotton and glue.

I am a bit worried the glue will end up yellowing in time, we’ll have to see.

*their hair does smell faintly of strawberries because of this. Also a cotton ball would work functionally the same.

For the clothes patterns I mostly just winged it, checking if it fit on the model until I got something I liked before cutting the pieces out of white and light gray felt. I did go a little off-model for the cloak because it needed to be removable.

I attached the cloak lining with a backstitch, and the collar with a whipstitch. The buttonholes I cut with scissors and whipstitched the heck out of the edges after making sure they were big enough. I had made sure the holes in the buttons were big enough to thread a needle through when I made them so I could easily attach them.

The hat brim pieces I whipstitched together while they lay flat on top of each other very close to the edge of the fabric. I did the same with the pointy part, but also flipped it inside out afterwards. I used a running stitch along the edge to attach the top and bottom brim, and a backstitch with the pretty side on top to attach pointy piece while kind of folding it so the edge lays flat against the brim.

The last step was to use very watered down acrylics to make it look weathered.

And that’s it! Not sure if anyone really wanted this, but I figure it doesn’t hurt.

I’m happy to answer any questions!

[stars-and-inkpots]

Ok- sorry I’ve never done this before. But I was wondering if you could do a Gale fic/ oneshot where tav/reader somehow finds a way to like remove his orb but instead of getting rid of it all together it goes to them? Like now they have the orb in their chest and they have like all the pain and the possibility of going boom? If not that’s completely fine- I just had that idea and I felt you’d be amazing for it! I hope you have an amazing day!<3

OKAY! I know I've been gone for like five months, but I finally got motivated again! (Those new patches have thrown me right back into my hyperfixation) I know this is so very very late, but I hope you enjoy! I really liked this idea, and it honestly might end of a part of a multi-chapter thing if I get around to it. This is set before the events of the game.

(p.s. it's 3 am and I haven't really read through this, so I'm sorry if there are some mistakes that I won't catch till I've slept)

What's Yours is Mine | Gale x Reader

After months of research, you finally find a way to get rid of the volatile orb in Gale's chest. Of course, things don't work out exactly the way you intend them to.

Pairing: Gale/Reader

Tags: hurt/comfort, angst, brief allusion to suicide(kinda?)

Ao3 Link: Baldur's Gate 3 Requests

Word Count: 1249

You know it isn’t going to be easy. It’s taken months of research, and even now as you look through the large practically ancient book, you aren’t entirely sure that this is going to work. Gale is sceptical too, he doesn’t want to get his hopes up. He also knows that when it comes to old magic like this, there is always the chance of something going wrong. It wasn’t like this was simple magic either. The nature of his condition is complicated and volatile, and this could easily cause problems.  

Gale sits in the centre of the chalk circle while you finish drawing the runes around it. 

“Are you sure about this, my love?” 

You’ve been talking in circles like this for the past twenty minutes while you’ve been preparing for the actual ritual. 

“Yes, Gale. We’re so close to a solution now.” You draw the final line of a rune and walk over to kneel in front of him. “I’m sure. If there’s a chance to help you, I want to take it.” You kiss his forehead and he gives you a small smile. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” 

“I’m sure,” he answers, and kisses you quickly before you stand again. 

With the circle of runes finished, you move to grab the book. The page you need is bookmarked, and you flip to it to study the words on the page once more. Between the lines are notes and annotations in both Gale’s and your own writing. You added reminders on how to pronounce some of the words, and Gale had marked the translation. You look at Gale once more, and he gives you a reassuring nod. 

You start reciting the lines from the book. Immediately, you can feel the air begin to buzz with magic. Three lines in, and you can taste copper, which is a common side-effect when it comes to older magic like this so it’s not too concerning yet. What is a little worrying, is the sheer amount of power you can feel moving through your body while you speak, and the slight purple glow that is spreading across your arms and steadily growing brighter. You chance a glance at Gale and notice that he too seems to be feeling the same effects. There’s a growing apprehension in both of you as you continue to speak the words on the page. By the time you reach the final line, the feeling is almost unbearable. It’s like the pressure in the room has increased tenfold, like a weight has been dropped on your shoulders and bears down on your lungs.

Once you utter the final word, everything seems to slow for a moment. 

Then you feel it. 

A horrible pain wracks through your body. You let out a scream. It feels like something is tearing open your chest- or is it clawing its way in? You can’t tell; you can’t think. Your vision is dark, and you aren’t sure if it’s because you’ve blacked out or because pain has forced your eyes shut. Everything feels cold, far, far too cold, but also so terribly hot. 

Finally, the pain lessens enough that you can take a full breath, though it is interrupted by a sputtering cough. When you eventually open your eyes again, you realise that at some point you must have fallen to the floor. You can feel Gale’s arms around you, he is shaking. 

“Did it work?” You ask, despite how much it hurts to speak. The burning feeling in your chest hasn’t entirely left yet. 

“That doesn’t matter. Are you okay?” 

You try to sit up and wince with the effort. Gods, your chest hurts. 

“I’ll be alright. Gale, did it work?” You ask again, looking for the tell-tale mark on his chest and neck. You find the scar still, skin sunken in some parts and raised in others, but it is no longer the usual, shimmering purple. Now, it just looks like a normal (save for the shape) scar. You smile, because at least the spell did its job. Then you see a look of horror cross Gale’s face. 

“No, gods no,” he whispers, tentatively brushing his fingers along your collarbone. You hiss in pain. It feels like he’s brushed his hands across a fresh burn. 

You bring your own hand up to feel the centre of your chest, and your stomach drops. You know the shape, having memorised it from the number of times you ran your hands across Gale’s scar. This spell worked, but not in the way it should have. 

“We have to do it again,” Gale stands, pushing a still shaky hand through his messy hair. He stares at the special candles that have already burnt far too low to make it through the ritual a second time, and lets himself believe that they will be enough. “I am not going to let you carry my burden like this. Get in the circle and I can start the ritual again.”

“You know that won’t work. The candles are out, and all the herbs and incense are burnt, not to mention the crystals. It will take ages to find those again.” You don’t blame him for this, no matter how much he might blame himself and how much he might want you to blame him. “I’ll be fine, Gale. You managed it for so long, and now it’s my turn. We’ll figure it out.” A part of you remembers what Gale said of his power and how the orb drained it, but you quickly silence those thoughts before you can worry too much about your own magic. 

“No. This wretched thing is the consequence of my mistake. I will not let you suffer through it. I can’t.” He’s kneeling in front of you again, cradling your face in his hands. “What if it becomes unstable? I can’t-” Gale tries and fails to keep his voice steady. “That cannot happen to you.” 

“And it would be better if it were to happen to you? It is fine for you to die with it?” You return, perhaps too harshly, but surely now he might understand how it felt to hear him say such things when it was him with the magic bomb in his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” is all he answers after a few moments of silence. You aren’t sure what exactly he’s apologising for, but you wrap your arms around him and rest your head on his shoulder. 

“We’ll figure this out. We always do. I promise.” The pain still hasn’t subsided completely. You can’t imagine how Gale has managed to grit his teeth and bear it on his worst days if this is how the orb feels when it is, more or less, stable. You feel him press a kiss to the crown of your head. “It’s like we always say, remember? What’s yours is mine.” The phrase was common between you two. It was one of the first things Gale had said when you moved into the tower with him. ‘What’s mine is yours,’ he had said with a grand sweeping gesture. Since then it has been used whenever either of you had to borrow something from the other, anything from books to warm wool sweaters you had no intention of returning anytime soon. It seems strange to say it now, but you hope it gets your point across regardless; by the slight shake of Gale’s chest as he laughs softly, you figure it has. 

[queenof-curses]

Kishibe: Paying the Price

Captain Kishibe is right, you'll never be strong enough to kill the Devil that murdered your family. You need to sign a Contract with a Devil fast, but you don't know any that are willing.

Good thing Captain Kishibe is more than willing to help you out, for a price…

Kishibe x Fem!Reader

wc: 3.5k

send me a tip: Ko-Fi

Minors DNI! Explicit Sex, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Cunnilingus, Office Sex, Teacher-Student relationship, Age-gap, a little dark, & NOT beta read!

--

“Decent work today, thanks to me. You’d be dead if I weren’t here, Kid…”

The older man sighs before taking a swig from his flask.

Whiskey, probably… you thought.

He was right though. If Kishibe weren’t there to check up on you during your mission, that Devil probably would’ve killed you. His next words pull you from your self-reflections,

“If you had train as I taught you, you wouldn’t be in a mess on every fucking mission.” He comments. “You have to take my advice, or you’ll never see your next birthday.”

Captain or not, the old man always seemed to pester you about not having any deals yet with a Devil. Your training up to this point with Kishibe has strictly been physical and strategic, and you were starting to feel the consequences of it all.

You joined Public Safety shortly after your family had been killed by a top Devil, being placed in Tokyo’s Special Division 4, under Captain Kishibe because of your smart and quick thinking. Now though, you wonder if that was a mistake…

You didn’t want to sell a part of yourself to a disgusting Devil, but how do you expect to get any stronger? Maybe the Captain was right after all…

Taking a moment to think it out, you finally decide to take a stance. You have to lose some, to win some- right?

You look up at Kishibe, his eyes slightly hooded and glossy (a state he was always in due to the job + alcohol), waiting for your response.

“I’ll do it.” you firmly decided.

He looks at you confused and you roll your eyes.

“Do what?” He asks.

“I’ll make a contract with a Devil… to get stronger. To kill the one responsible for my family’s murder.” You announce it to him.

You sounded so sure of yourself, a tone that Kishibe realized he hadn’t ever heard from you before. It perked him up a bit from his clouded mind.

He was quite proud, then, seeing you so confident. It was so different from the first day he took you into his division. He knew you were going to be great. But you should know- it wasn’t going to be easy.

“Alright,” he says. “And who do you plan on making a deal with?”

*Silence*

You look at him and think about all the Devils you know that would sign a contract with you… coming up empty. They were all dead!

The old man laughs out loud at that, “You don’t even know any one?!” he asks, incredulous.

“Uhhh… no…” is all you could respond with.

“Well shit Kid,” he pauses to think, scratching the rough stubble on his face. “You’re lucky I like you, I’ve got someone just in mind. But..”

He looks you up and down, eyes slowly raking over your body.

You shuffled under his gaze, adjusting your tight suit. Suddenly, you feel like your tie was choking you. Unable to keep cool under his stare, you feel your face flush red.

“But what?” you hesitantly ask.

“But!” He grins… “you’re gonna have to pay for the contact.”

What, just exactly, is up the Captain’s sleeve?

“H-How?”

“I think you know how.” He moves to leave, calling one last line over his shoulder before leaving you. “My office. 10 o’clock tonight. Wear something easy to remove.”

He doesn’t wait for your response before walking out, leaving you with a shocked expression and a wet spot in your panties.

—

Walking up to the Captain’s office was something you were used to, just not in this context. You were hesitant to come, but you couldn’t deny the fact that you were also excited and nervous.

You needed this contact; needed to be strong.

For my family, you think before knocking three times.

*knock knock knock*

“Captain? It’s me…”

“Come in, and close the door behind you.”

You were excitable as you entered.

It was no secret that Kishibe enjoyed his fair share of Alcohol, Devil Hunting, and Women. You just never thought he would find you attractive. He was so much older than you, so much wiser and experienced. Why would you even entertain the idea that he would be interested? Surely this isn’t what you were planning for, right?

Walking into his office, you shut the door softly. Stopping just in front of it, you look at the older man waiting.

Kishibe stood in front of his large, oak desk. His long trench coat was off for once, sitting on the coat rack at the edge of the room. He was wearing the usual uniform of a Devil Hunter, a slim black tie and dress pants. The tight white dress shirt accentuated his muscles, giving his regularly rugged look a more defined stance. His jaw was tense, you could tell even from where you stood.

He’d been waiting for your arrival, and it sent tingles of excitement to your lower parts.

The only light was a desk lamp, illuminating the man from behind and basking his silhouette in a soft yellow glow. The rest of the room was dark; the only occupants being the two of you.

You weren’t sure what to do next, so you stood your ground waiting for further instruction from the man. Your fingers brush against the hem of the short dress you decided to wear. It felt odd to be in this room without your suit and tie on, weapons discarded in the locker room of the building.

You felt exposed in the dress, remembering that your only other articles of clothing were your panties and shoes. A dress this short and tight didn’t have room for a bra, unfortunately, and it didn’t go unnoticed by him.

He watched you play with the short hem, enjoying the visible shyness that crept up your neck. Kishibe was glad you followed instructions, and he admired the tiny playful dress you picked for tonight. He appreciated how your little nipples budded against the thin fabric, and his mouth watered as he thought about sucking on your tits.

Despite his lustful mind, he knew you looked good. The kind of good, he thought, that a girl would choose to go out for a date in.

That wasn’t the plan he had for you tonight, however.

No, tonight he was going to have what he’s been waiting for since the very first time you stepped into this office. He wasn’t a patient man, and he was ready to get started.

He calls your name out loud, his voice making you jump.

“Y-yes, Captain?”

“Come closer, let’s see the pretty little dress you’re wearing.”

You walk towards him, dropping your hands as you make your way over to where he’s leaning against the desk.

Once you’re within arms reach, he grabs you.

Gasping, you suddenly find yourself engulfed in his scent. Cologne and a slight whiskey scent… He smells familiar, you can’t put your finger on it, though. Kind of like home… but do you even remember what home smelled like?

You expect the man to hug you. However, you seem to be wrong.

Your Captain reaches behind your head, grabbing a handful of hair and pulling you towards his shoulder. He tilted your chin up towards his face with his other hand, putting you in a helpless position under him.

A thumb comes to caress your jaw as he hummed in admiration, looking deep into your eyes.

“You know, Kid… I know a lot of Devils. I could make you the strongest member of Division 4. You could finally kill the one that murdered your family. But… it’s gonna cost ya. Are you willing to pay?” He asks you.

You spend a moment to think, though you knew your mind was already made up. You’d do anything to kill the Devil that went after your kin. Revenge was your only priority, but was having sex with your Captain something you’d be willing to do?

The yellow light reflects off his earrings and the sparkle catches your eye…

Kishibe really was a good looking man. You thought about him occasionally, mostly on your lonely nights… And although he was much older than you, he had his shit together.

That is, had his shit together besides the alcohol… and the brutality… and the women….

Okay, so he didn’t really have all his shit together. But he was good looking, fit, and willing to make you stronger. So you decide you need him.

You finally give him his answer.

Looking up at him, you lock your eyes with his before answering, “Yes, Captain…”

His smile stretches from ear to ear at that. He looked down at you and gripped your hair tighter. The pain makes you moan out, a sound he easily found himself wanting to hear more of.

“That’s Master to you, Kid…”

You correct yourself, “Yes Master…”

He grins, “That’s right Kid, and I am about to make you a very happy woman.”

Suddenly, he switches your positions. Flipping you around so that your front now faces his desk, he stands behind you. Using your hair as leverage, he yanks your head to the side, exposing your neck to him.

Hot, wet kisses are placed along your neck as Kishibe grinded his (from what you can only assume to be) huge bulge against you. His hips push your dress up, exposing the black panties you decided to wear for the night.

He groans against your neck as you push back against him. It was getting heated at a pace you weren’t used to. But you couldn’t deny that you were enjoying the passion of it all. You suddenly found yourself desperate, it was as if there was an aphrodisiac laced in the air of the room.

“Master…” you cry out, pushing your backside against his front.

Soft kisses were replaced by rough bites that soon decorated the side of your neck. Each hickey that he left was meant as a reminder of each time he thought about taking you just like this.

All those times Kishibe wanted to lay you out on the desk before him and mark what’s his. You were under his division, and he wanted to own you in every single way. All those filthy thoughts of his were finally coming true, and he was about to savor every delicious moment of it.

He lifts the rest of your dress over your hips before bending you over his desk. You brace yourself so as to not knock your head on the wooden table. Kishibe wasn’t messing around, you realize from his forcefulness.

You felt the cool air hit the heat of your pussy as he pulled your panties down to your ankles, exposing you to the room.

“Oh god,” you gasp out, realizing his hot breath was panting right against your core.

He must be on the floor, you realize, and therefore must be staring directly at your exposed pussy.

You try moving away, but firm hands come up to massage your backside.

“Don’t even try, Y/n, I want to see you…” He whispers, holding you in place.

His hands felt rough from all the years of Devil hunting he had behind him; his fingers were scratchy against the softness of your behind. His ruggedness only made you wetter, loving the savage-tendencies you knew this man had.

He brings his thumbs towards your core, using them to spread your lower lips apart.

You moan, knowing that he could see everything like this. You were exposed to your Master completely, and you knew what he saw was a wet hole that desperately needed fucking.

“This-” he starts before swiping his tongue from clit to your asshole, “is all mine… Got it, Kid?”

Another swipe of his tongue has you seeing stars. Your knees were weak, on the verge of collapsing against his face. You knew to answer him before he denied what you so desperately seeked.

“Yes, Master!” you cry out.

Kishibe laughs, knowing he has you exactly how he’s always wanted you. Spreading your lips further, he sticks his tongue into your folds.

You scream and thrash against his face as he tongue-fucks your pussy with vigor, his nose rubbing against that other dangerous place as you leak into his mouth and drip down his chin.

“Oh god, yes!” you beg him, “Please Master!”

He drives you insane as he brings a tumb to circle your clit, making buck against him like an animal in heat. The rough stubble of his chin teased your folds as you ground yourself onto his face.

Stopping for a moment, he slowly circles your clit with his thumb- edging you, but teasing your orgasm from completely unfolding.

“Do you want to cum?” he mocks. “Do you want to cream all over my face?”

“Fuck- yes! Please!”

“Please, what Kid?”

“Please, Master!” You cry.

He responds in a tone that is almost threatening. “Then do it.”

Diving his face back into your cunt, he slurps and sucks your pussy, alternating between fucking your little hole and dancing his hot tongue across your clit.

It’s enough to drive you past the point of teasing. Your orgasm hits you like a train as you squirt all over Kishibe’s face, soaking him and the floor below in your juices. He encourages you to keep going.

“That’s it, Kid- fuck my face.”

You rock back against his tongue, riding out your pleasure as you feel the wetness against the rough stubble on his chin. You grinded against his face, enjoying the way he ate your pussy like a man starved.

He slowly licked you clean as you came to. After a few moments, you seem to slow your hips and come back down to Earth.

You were a wet mess. Sweaty and covered in your own cum, you pant to try and catch your breath. Attempts to collect your thoughts were made. However, you knew this man wasn’t through with you just yet.

Kishibe stands up, keeping his hands firmly on your hips. His grip was firm, almost bruising.

You knew better than to move- he wanted you there and you would do anything to please him at this point.

“What do you want, Y/n?” He asks you.

You can hear the buckle of his belt jingle as he undoes the strap. The zipper pull is next, and all of a sudden you feel the hot weight of a giant cock sitting against your bare backside.

The heat of his shaft felt like a brand on your skin, and you wiggled your hips to tease the beast.

*slap*

A painful blow comes to your butt, making you yelp out in pain. He didn’t appreciate your teasing.

*slap slap slap*

Your cheeks were on fire as he delivered blow after blow onto your behind. You groaned and moaned underneath him, waiting for his hits to finally end- not daring to move from your spot.

“Now,” he said after a final eighth blow, “What do you want?”

You cry softly, the cracks of his hand that followed too soon after your ograsm left tears in your eyes.

“W-want you, Master!” you say out to him, keeping your eyes fixated on the wall in front of you.

“Want what from me?” He goads.

He’s teasing you, you realize. The embarrassment of this older man making you beg for him pushed the tears over, falling softly onto the desk below you.

“Want you!! I want your cock- Sir, please!” You manage to cry out, but not before feeling inferior under the wrath of his brutality. You were overwhelmed with pain and pleasure; your mind had thoughts of only one thing: Kishibe’s cock.

“If you insist…”

The tip of his shaft runs up and down your wet folds- he coats himself in your juice before stopping at your clit. Circling your little bundle of nerves, he notices how swollen it's become from your prior orgasm. He can’t wait to have you crying for him.

Kishibe had big plans for his little woman. He was not only going to make you great- but make you his completely. He wanted you drunk on his cock; wanted you to cry out for him every night. From here on out, you would be molded to the shape of his shaft.

Bringing his cock towards your entrance, the older man teases your hole. Pressing his tip in and out, keeping it shallow enough for you to become frustrated.

“Please Master! I need it- I need your cum…” you cry out softly, desperate for stimulation.

You were a mess before him, having no idea what you just signed yourself up for.

“Oi Kid, don’t worry…” He smiles down at you. “You’ll get my load and more…”

His hips slam against yours in one movement, sinking his cock into your cunt all at once.

You scream- It’s too much. You didn’t expect him to go down to the hilt in one thrust.

Kishibe was no small man- his body practically towered over yours, and he had a penis to match. He was huge…

Your cunt stretched around him, filling you up as he pushed against your cervix.

“Fuck!” you cry out, the tears spilling down your cheeks rapidly. “It’s too much! I can’t take it…”

“Oh you can,” he responds to your pleas. “You can and you will.”

His next movements match his demanding tone. He’s swift as he pulls out of your pussy only to sink back in. You continue to cry out for him to slow down...

Suddenly, he shifts and thrusts up. His hips push against that rough part inside of you and have your vision going white.

Your cries quickly turn into moans of pleasure as his shaft rubs against it. He knows he’s just found your sweet spot.

With a smirk, he drives himself up into your cunt. Slamming himself inside of you over and over again. He fucks you on his desk as if you were the last woman in the world.

Soft cries fall from your lips as you mumble about how much you love it, how much you want his cum inside of you.

He barely hears what you’re saying over the slapping sounds of his hips meeting your backside, the squelching sounds of your wet cunt quivering around his hard cock.

“Fuck- Kid, you’re gonna make me fucking cum soon.” He says, not being able to hold back his strength.

He drives into you hard and fast, relishing the way your warm walls welcome his hard shaft. The grip he has on your hips is solid as he sets a brutal pace.

“Fucking do it- please, cum in me! I’ll do anything,” you beg him, reminding him of his original deal. “I’ll do anything please, cum in me- I want to be strong!”

“Oh you’ll be the strongest, Kid…I’ll fucking bathe you in my seed.”

“Fuck… please.. Fill me up, I’ll let you cum as much as you want…”

Your last statement seemed to seal the deal with Kishibe. You rocked back against his thrusting hips, meeting his body with equal excitement and endeavor.

“Shit, I-I’m gonna cum…” he manages to growl out.

His pace begins to get sloppy as he feels himself come undone. With one final thrust, Kishibe buries himself inside of your waiting cunt. He fills you with his seed- coating your insides with hot cum.

Swaying against him, you milk his cock with all that you can. Squeezing around him tightly, you make sure to try and collect every drop he gives you, putting on a show with your hip movements. He filled you deliciously, your insides felt hot and full.

All he can do is groan as you take control- he was completely fucked out and absolutely mesmorized by your little winking asshole below him. He stared down at it as you continued to drain him.

Oh he had plans for that, too. You were to be his in all ways after this.

After a few moments, you feel him remove himself from your body. With his weight gone, you could feel yourself drip in his release and knew he was watching.

Kishibe couldn’t help himself as he found himself on the floor, sitting in the same position that he had been in to eat you out just moments before. With his thumbs once again separating the pussy lips of your swollen cunt, he looked directly into the deepest parts of you. The same parts that his cock was just buried in. He couldn’t help his lewd thoughts as he realized he was getting hard once more.

You let him watch your hole leak onto the floor in submission… You realize that you’d let him do just about anything at this point, loving the way you felt under his demanding gaze.

“Master…” you whisper out, not too sure what you were asking for.

“Shhh…” he says, voice hushed. “I’m about to make you a very strong Devil Hunter.”

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[yourfavouritefighter]

OKAY SO IM KINDA NOT IN W GREAT MOOD RN SO IM GONNA RANT ABOUT THE JEKYLL AND HYDE MUSICAL since none of my irl pals are gonna listen you guys have to

SO POINT ONE

-the whole plot hinges around the core idea that Henry himself is a man with good intentions who goes too far, and that he was warned to stop but he doesn’t and his own hubris and desire to have scientific recognition pushes him to extremes, and in turn-his and many other’s deaths.

—> that’s bullshit however, considering in the 1997 musical sound track (the most recent one i can get my hands on) there are more songs convincing Henry that he should carry on than their are dissuading him (considering they cut board of governors). allow me to list examples and why it’s stupid that he’s a man who was dissuaded but chose to walk a danger game path anyways.

—> firstly, his best friend Gabriel John Utterson, deeply trusted and level headed with a good moral compass “Henry you have come too far, remember what you have a stake” and “you’ve got to see it through” both stated in a song called “pursue the truth”. this song is heavily pivotal as it inspires Henry to continue when he wouldn’t have otherwise due to pressure from the board of governors of st jude’s hospital. In this song he was not told that going forward would be dangerous, John likely knew exactly what Henry was doing but wholeheartedly encouraged him, Henry trusted his judgement. He was not dissuaded.

—>Emma and Lisa, for the sake of coherency I’ll be referring to her as Emma as i’ll be using the newer soundtrack for this discussion. His wife to be, who he’s supposedly madly in live with; spends all of “i must go on” encouraging his pursuit of science, encouraging him to carry on his work. In lines like “when this all began, we knew there’d be a price to pay”, “too late to turn away”, reinforcing the idea in Henry’s mind that this is the best way forward- who cares about stuffy governors when those dear and near to him have expressed clear support of his work.

—>You could hypothetically argue that neither John nor Emma truly knew the extent to which Henry was going with his experiments, not truly understanding what he wanted to or was trying to achieve. However, if that was the intention the writers should’ve made that more overt considering later in the play they heavily emphasise the theme and idea that Henry has, quote “gone too far”, a phrase repeatedly used. Instead they lead the audience also view this as an honourable goal, due to the growing support of Henry and the audiences like of the characters at this point in the play.

Through the removal of Lanyon, the central conflict and core flaw of Henry Jekyll as a character has been removed, if he has no close friend to strongly and brutally disagree with him, it was no long *his* flaw that he carried on, it was no longer his fault, as the blame could be feasibly shared between him and those who encouraged him, shifting the play and narrative from a criticism of society in that extremism whether it be for or against change leads to a poor outcome, to being a story about how a well intentioned yet flawed scientist was misguided by his passion and loved ones, and payed the price.

-(next point because i’ve argued long enough about that.) was Henry Jekyll really as well intentioned as the play attempts to convey?

—>(Short answer, no. Long answer, potentially). Henry’s morality is heavily debatable, with it being dependant on the rendition of the play you watched, for the sake of the cohesion of the argument i’m going to be basing this entirely off of what i’ve seen of the 1997 and the 1995 plays.

—> firstly let’s discuss what the writers intended, or at least my perspective on what they were aiming to convey. within the opening scenes, we are greeted with Henry and his unnamed(?) father who is stuck in a mental asylum for reasons we as an audience are not privy to, Henry sings “lost in the darkness” a song establishing his motivations and goals as a character. I believe that the intention here was to give the viewer the impression that Henry as a character and person is moral and good, becoming misguided in his efforts to achieve his goals and save his father, eventually sacrificing himself for the sake of the safety of society, once the monster of his own well intentioned creation consumes him. So as a character it could be argued that he is moral. However i what the writers intended and what they conveyed are hugely different.

—> Due to the placement of Henry’s motivation being at the beginning of the play, the intention was likely to hook the audience into liking him as a character, forcing them to see how well intentioned he is before exploring his flaws and then eventually having him sacrifice himself to show his respectable morality as a character. However, by closely following this with “board of governors” (and the 1997 equivalent assumedly) we are hit with the whiplash of what was presented as a good person, and the man who argues with the board. Due to how bitter and cruelly he acts in a futile attempt to gain funding(?) and support for his project, the audience may rightfully assume that his kindness was a facade (especially since facades and the duality of man are central themes) and that Henry’s true colours are shown within this situation. If the writers truly intended to establish his perfect morality, they should have had Henry visit his father, and “lost in the darkness” take place after Henry is refused by the governors, so that his rage and refusal to take no for an answer is a shown to be a result of his stress and care for his father- not his questionable morality. This is because the audience will retain things that happen later in the play best, using them to form their impressions, so by shifting the placement of this scene it shifts the presentation of the character as a whole. But that is not what we are here to discuss.

—> Henry and Lucy. Another instance of Henry’s good morality working against him, as despite entering with the intention to find a test subject- he leaves having given Lucy his business card(?) and offering her support due to her situation. This eventually leads to her death, but it is another instance of his good morality, there were no strings attached to this aid, as Henry was a soon to be married man, and there is no implications that he finds her attractive (if you are to follow the play’s implications that Jekyll and Hyde are truly separate beings). So clearly you could argue that his morality is good, right?

—> Hyde. From a scientific standpoint, matter cannot be created or destroyed, going from that perspective, Hyde’s intentions cannot have just appeared-they had to be fuelled by Jekyll’s innermost desires and thoughts, especially since Hyde goes after those who have wronged Henry during “murder murder”. So the murderous impulses, the sketchy behaviour and outright illegal behaviour towards Lucy came from Jekyll. However this doesn’t make Henry an immoral character.

—> Humour me for a moment while i discuss the concept of the id. So freud (yes that freud) had a theory that stated that humans were comprised of three parts that all worked together, the id the ego and the super ego. The id was your animalistic urges and desires, your superego is societal expectations for the most part, acting as your selflessness. With the ego balancing the two; preventing you from donating all of your money to charity and putting you on the streets, and preventing you from going on a murder spree, killing the upper class. Within the original novel, Hyde is implied to be without the ego or superego, merely the embodiment of Jekyll’s id. So now comes the debate, is a person immoral for having immoral desires, if unacted upon?

—>Therein lies the conflict, as whether or not immoral desires mean an immoral person or character. Personally i believe no, the average person will have immoral thoughts from time to time, the true evil comes from how such desires are dealt with. So while Hyde is evil, despite being based upon Jekyll, you cannot state that that makes Henry evil in turn. Paired with the potential that Hyde is a twisted version of Jekyll’s own desires (for example Henry wants revenge against the governors-Hyde interprets that as murder, whilst Jekyll implies showing them that he was right).

anyways this has got way too long so rip, mb if this is incoherent i woke up and was like ‘jekyll and hyde musicals really sucked at doing plot and character development…welp time to rant’

please correct me in the comments if i’m misremembering shit i’m stupid so it’s a possibility

[liesmyth]

“what the fuck did Anastasia do?” some wild speculations for funsies

What we know: Anastasia was trying to achieve Lyctorhood, and believed there was “another way” other than the standard ‘kill your cav, eat their soul’ way. Anastasia’s process still included the Eightfold Word, was performed in “laboratory conditions” and Samael, her cavalier, died. She later went on to fund the Ninth House. Everything else is speculation, or comes from biased accounts.

What we don’t know: A bunch of things!

One is when it happened: We don’t know when Anastasia attempted to ascend, compared to the other Lyctors; we only know that she did it in relatively safe conditions. We DO know that she worked “closely with Cassiopeia” (HtN, 51) and researched it “too much”, trying to do the process a different way “slower and more methodically”. Cassiopeia was the fourth Lyctor to ascend - my guess is that Anastasia made her attempt at any time between shortly before Cassiopeia’s and shortly after Cytherea.

The other is what exactly happened: all we know for sure is that John claims Anastasia failed, and he killed Samael to stop the botched process. Of course John’s account is wildly unreliable but IMO, he’s not the kind of person to say a straightforward lie when a half-truth will do — not because of moral qualms against lying (LOL), but because he likes to have plausible deniability with himself that he did a hard thing for the right reasons. I’m assuming John’s account is like, 60% true here. And it’s very juicy

Wild guess time!

Wild ass guess but my idea is that Anastasia tapped into Alecto’s enormous well of power, but dragged Samael into it via the Eightfold word. Then either the feeling of Alecto’s soul was too much for them and it made Anastasia panic, screwing the process. John killed Samael to stop it.

Why would you even think that? Good question!

I think John claiming that killing Samael was to Anastasia’s benefit is partly the truth; again John’s very good at twisting facts so that he comes out squeaky clean, but he’s less likely to lie outright. We also know that Anastasia remained on decent enough terms with John & Lyctors afterwards — I bet their relationship was very fraught, but doesn’t seem to have been on the level of “I never want to see you again.”

Alecto feels guilt over Samael’s death. The first thing she tells Harrow, Anastasia’s however-many-times-removed grandchild, is “I’m sorry about Samael” (NtN, epilogue). Alecto had the chance to apologise in person to Anastasia for Samael’s death, but she still feels the urge to apologise again to a direct descendant, immediately. This, plus the fact that she swore herself to Anastasia’s line (a big fucking deal!) makes me think that SHE was personally involved in Samael’s death, not just a witness, and she feels the urge to make up for it.

Anastasia “panicking” is a very likely reaction when confronted with Alecto’s sheer power — John completely lost it when he ascended, and while Anastasia made her attempt in less fraught circumstances it was probably still A Lot to handle. My guess that she “dragged Samael into it” is based on the speculation that the Eightfold word is what ties the cavalier to the necromancer and includes the cavalier’s name (because Harrow removed all memories of Gideon’s name, not just her existence, to stop herself from consuming Gideon’s soul) and when her panic caused her to lose control over the process to some extent (probably painful and/or gruesome) John’s resort was to kill Samael and stop the process that way.

Another (IMO less likely) possibility is that Alecto threw a Nona-style tantrum that Samael couldn’t withstand, or even killed Samael herself. These would both work with her guilt + the fact that whatever happened needed a pretty thorough “cleanup” after, but I don’t think Alecto was physically present. (However, I do think that Alecto’s involvement would be pretty much the only thing to get John to admit to something he didn’t do, and would explain why he agreed to lock up Alecto after + why Anastasia would agree to assist with it)

Ok but why would Anastasia even be able to tap into Alecto’s power?

I just think Anastasia is extremely scary. She was the one to work on Teacher (cramming 500 souls into 50) and she later went on to fund the Ninth, the House that supposedly does strictly bone necromancy, wouldn’t even touch flesh magic, but also, somehow, managed Harrow’s conception — something John, God himself, calls “a walking miracle”. 

Yes, Harrow’s parents were skilled, but not that skilled. My guess is that they based their work on Anastasia’s research — a “work” that John compares to a smaller-scale Resurrection.

If that’s the level Anastasia was working with... I just think she was very good at soul fuckery. I also think that the fact that planets have souls in TLT (even planets that don’t contain any life forms... except potentially they all do) points to the existence of an “oversoul” — universal life existence within all beings; sort of the greater matter of which human souls are the molecules. I think Anastasia was sufficiently skilledto have reached to whatever spillover of Alecto’s soul was left, maybe through John’s presence, or maybe because she was still partly tied to the planet that became the First House, and Anastasia pulled on that string not knowing what it was.

This last section is 90% a wild guess, but I THINK it fits with Harrow telling John in NtN (John 5:4) that he “watched them misunderstand the process” so here’s my shred of canon evidence.

Anyway, here’s my current Anastasia Theory — to be debunked in 2023

[worldbeyondtheworld]

Here's the AU route I mentioned in my post (here) collecting several ideas for a Swap AU / Slay The Monster AU.

Please buckle in. This is going to be long, long post. The main part has *looks at numbers* more than 2,000 words. The author notes have more than 1,000 words. I will add the author notes in a reblog, so that you can find them if you want.

The Voices exist as separate entities after the Princess acts, dies, and the Chapter 2s start. They manifest as protectors of the Long Quiet’s pieces (Quiet for short) but only one can appear at a time and often needs time until they are fully physical. Who and how depends on the Princess’ actions in the previous loop as well as in the current one. Other Voices can manifest in their minds in chapter 3s and 4s as in canon.

Does that make it a Protect The Monster AU?

I love this direction because it evokes a similar contradiction to the canon game that doesn’t exist in this kind of AU. The Narrator wants the Princess to slay the Long Quiet. It’s the classical trope of ‘the hero / princess / prince slays the monster for the safety of their people’.

@billcyphersballsack has pointed this out in their own beautiful post about a Slay The Monster swap AU. Please give it a look here: https://www.tumblr.com/billcyphersballsack/754954086465585152

But the Narrator’s claims and the initial expectations are upended in the next Chapter when a set of protectors reveal themselves, wanting to keep the Monster safe and seeing the Princess as a threat. Or when the Princess claims to want to help, they work with her to free the Monster and escape the cabin.

The Voice of the Hero manifests rarely. He’s Quiet’s Heart and so the most vulnerable in some ways. He’s their emotional anchor, unwilling or unable to separate from them. When he does, it shows that something has gone very wrong.

Now for this route: The Princess argues in Chapter 2 with the Narrator. (From here on, I’m switching to the personal ‘you’ for the Princess as if she was addressing herself as the Long Quiet does in canon.)

The prisoner could be cursed and be actually like you. They are not monstrous! They are harmless as you’ve said before! You know after meeting them! You showed them step by step how to remove their own shackle after a trap caught you. They didn't know if they are a princess like you going by the charades they made, but you are sure that they will figure it out once they've escaped. They are just so sweet and kind, they have to be a princess! The monster is somebody else who’ve captured and imprisoned them in the cabin. Quiet just needs to do exactly what you say next time, because they’ve been down here so long, they don’t know anymore how to escape!

This is the only route where Quiet's body changes this much. They gave their own identity up and filled it with your reflection. Being themself didn't help anybody, least of all their Voices. And you were so kind…

When you spot the cabin again, it looks like before at first. But the closer you get, the more differences you see. (Related to Quiet, this is also the only route where the cabin changes.)

The Narrator is unsettled. This part of the Construct should always be stable. The Princess can find it even on the ever-changing path. The little details that were there before have vanished. You can’t tell if the walls are made of wood, stone, or something else. The cabin’s inside has no furniture anymore. It’s featureless – the ceiling, the walls, and the floor look all the same. The weapon lies next to the entrance which is just a perfect rectangle at the back, as if cut out. You ignore the weapon. You’re here for your friend, after all.

Walking down reveals a different picture. The stairs crumble under your steps. You arrive in a long corridor which is lined with cob-webbed mirrors on both sides. Your reflection moves in infinity alongside you. The Narrator warned you that you’d be changed. It’s still very strange.

At the end, behind a rusted door, you find… Another prisoner? It’s not the same cage as before. It looks similarly to the cabin behind but as if it went through an earthquake. Cracks run from the floor up the walls to the ceiling. Some spots hang uncomfortably low or bulge down like bubbles about to pop. The bars in the tiny window have bent.

This prisoner looks similar to you. Another princess, here? They wear the same dress you do, after you’ve changed from dying. Even the same gloves and shoes. Up close, you are unsettled because you could be looking into those mirrors again. They repeat your movements a few second after you. Looking closer, you notice that their skin is reflective. They only move when you do. But when you stop smiling, they continue, just looking at you.

You think you spot black feathers underneath in glimpses in-between as they fail to answer your questions about your friend.

Oh. OH. OH NO NO NO NO-

When you shake their shoulders, asking them to speak, they mirror you - much softer as if afraid to hurt. They still don’t speak. It’s like you are the only person left in the basement.

Alright, alright, you can fix this! You've promised them you'd leave together, so that's what you'll do! They both can tackle everything else once they've left the cabin and these damned woods.

You either vow to help them – you don’t know how, but you know you’re the reason for this horrible transformation. It doesn’t matter that they didn’t look like you. It doesn’t matter that you feel lonely and want another person who understands you. It doesn’t matter that you were afraid of the Monster. You forced them to be like this, rather than respecting who and what they are. And it’s your responsibility to help them undo the damage and heal.

Or you double down on your self-lies and tell yourself that this is fine. Your friend was always a princess / prince / heir apparent. This is just another effect of the curse. Probably something about mirroring every living being they encounter under specific circumstances.

No matter your choice, the basement begins rumbling ominously. The already unstable ceiling gains more cracks, raining rocks down. Rushing, you pull Quiet up, sling their arm around your shoulder, and go go go.

You are reflected infinitely as before, but Quiet doesn’t appear in the surfaces. The earth’s shaking makes everything that much more confusing. You don’t notice at first the shadow in the mirrors following you, because it is not being reflected.

Your actions and their consequences have earned you the ire of the Voice of the Hero. Or he is just that terrified, so he's lashing out. He doesn't trust you. He fears what else you might do to Quiet after you not only destroyed their agency, but also forced their own identity onto them. He heard you ignoring every detail Quiet shared with you about themself. So he’ll kill you if you’re not careful: Swiping out of the glass with his claws at your heart from unexpected angles, to try and save them.

A - If you have vowed to help Quiet heal, your determination allows you to pass the corridor without tripping. For a moment, there’s the thought that this is a demon. But you realize because of the previous loops and from his words that this is a (true) friend of your friend. He’s trapped, too, but in the mirrors. And he's not thinking rationally because he’s afraid and wants to save Quiet. If he kills you, everybody will just reset in the same place they were in the beginning. Quiet might get worse if they stay any longer.

If you look to the side just as you’re about to leave the corridor, you see a second figure reflected next to you. They look vaguely like how your friend used to look like. Their arm is around your shoulder. Next, the ceiling caves in from the earthquake, blocking off the corridor.

As you climb the stairs, you hear the Voice of the Hero crying to give them (Quiet) back. His voice cracks from grief and fear and loss. You can leave in silence because you think you trying to comfort him will be shallow. From his perspective, you’re kidnapping a dear friend whom you have turned into a shell of themself for selfish reasons.

Or you steel yourself and yell back a promise (for both of them). “I’ll return and free you as well, once they are in a safe place where they can heal. Nobody will hurt them for their true self. Or maybe you’ll get better first.” You address Quiet. “And get here before I do to save your friend.” As the silence drags on, your heart sinks and you turn to leave.

“Alright. I’ll hold you to that vow,” a familiar voice whispers, right into your ear. “If you hurt them, I will tear your heart to shreds.”

Whipping around, you find no other company other than the person you’re holding up. Have they become heavier? They’re leaning more into your side. You would have seen if they had turned their head to you. It was their voice – same tone, same cadence – when you first met them before you died. It’s the voice of the shadow who attacked you from the mirrors to save his friend. They sound the same. How?

You shake your head to clear your mind. No more dawdling. There’s two persons who need help, quickly, and who need to reunite. You shuffle forwards. Your friend doesn’t fall in step even as you both reach the stairs’ top.

“Are you o-” No. Do not ask THAT. “-Oh. Is your leg hurt?”

They’re not looking at you, but down into the basement. Just five steps down, darkness swallows the stairs. Not even a hint of the mirrors is visible. Funny, it didn’t feel that far.

There’s a likely reason for their reaction. You encourage that independent thought. “Let’s get out of here. The sooner we’re hiding from any scoundrels left around, the earlier we can plan how to get him out.”

It’s only now that they look at you. Their smile is gone. The edges of their face are blurring. Black feathers peek out of their hair that darkens at the roots. More feather are growing on their arm where you’re holding on. They look better- not much, but they do. They nod.

At the door, they stare around. They’re holding onto the door’s handle, clutching it so tightly that it crumbles in their hand and their pointed nails suddenly pierce their palm. You gently nudge them to let go – waiting until they uncurl their fist on their own. Staring down at your joined fingers, they exhale shakily and take the first step outside. This is when the sound of thousand of wings flapping announces the Long Quiet’s fetching of his Shard.

B - If you have chosen to double down on your mistake, you try to appease Hero. You have no weapon to defend yourself with against him. Everything is shaking apart, that you can barely keep upright. It’s a wonder the mirrors have only gained cracks. You lack the determination to evade and run because deep down you understand what you’ve done and intend to do is wrong.

He's probably another poor soul trapped - maybe her friend's personal knight, because he carries himself like one from the little you see. He's just misunderstood what happened and wants to protect them from a stranger.

You claim that this isn’t your fault, that you didn’t know that this would happen. But isn’t it better to look like a person again instead of a monster? The rest of the curse will surely leave once they’re outside and under people again. And if not, you’ll take care of them. All the while expressing that you will keep making all the choices for Quiet without ever bothering to find a way for them to communicate what they want, especially now that they seem to be unable to act for themself. And you only care about them because you think they are like you, not different.

The Voice of Hero goes eerily, dangerously still. A chill runs down your spine, and the hairs on your arms and neck stand up. A predator is lurking nearby.

“I understand,” he says, echoing from everywhere. You clap your free hand over your ear but it's still ringing. Speaking softly, his words drip with apoplectic rage. “You wouldn't have even bothered to hear them out if you thought them a monster. You only care about what is the same as you.”

The mirrors have reached their limit. They begin to crack, splintering the Voice of the Hero’s outline into several pieces that eyes, each of them staring you down. The ceiling is dropping. The mirrors’ surfaces go blank, one by one and become opaque. It removes the dizzying infinity but also hides him from view. What was once felt too wide open – an infinite room that you could never find a way out of because it could go anywhere – closes around you like a moving wall.

You start running again, but your escape is cut off by the mirror that slams down in front of you. You look- Why do you look changed again-

Shards explode outwards. From behind you, from both your sides. From above, from below. Your reflection vanishes as blood spurts. The shards cut you up, the last one piercing your chest. A clawed, feathered hand pushes it in deeper until it reaches your heart. You fall to the floor, unable to keep standing. By chance your eyes fall on the massive shadow that has manifested, cradling something pale close to their chest. He’s crying, water running down his face and dropping onto your friend, somehow unharmed, still wearing your previous face. They are crying too, eyes anguished over their sunny smile. They are not looking at you.

Everything goes dark and you die.

----

Voice of the Cheated / a similar Voice manifests in the next Loop as the first one. The others follow depending on the Princess’ choices, but it Will be all of them. The Princess in her self-lies feels cheated out of having a new friend; Quiet is anguished to be treated as less for what and who they are. They want to be treated fairly and with respect.

My Ideas about the next Vessel are sparse, except that she looks like what she saw in that last mirror and fears the Shadow / Voice of the Hero. He in turn will fall into a protective rage if she comes close to their hiding place.

[bitbybitwrites]

OK . . am a day late . . . but not much has been done around here, bc I was struggling to finish the latest chapter of Puppy Love. (my RWRB WIP).

But here's what I got for you - snippets from a couple of ficlet fridays I'm working on (one RWRB, one Klaine) that are going to really be a wee bit longer than what I share here and a snippet of the next chapter of my Klaine WIP - If I Can Make Your Heart My Home . . all under the cut.

Also, by the way, many thanks to the following folks who tagged me for this and six/several/seven sentence sunday these past few weeks - you are all awesome!:

@alasse9 @daisyishedwig @onthewaytosomewhere, @thesleepyskipper @forabeatofadrum

@sophie1973 @wordsofhoneydew @porcelainmortal @taste-thewaste @blueeyedgrlwrites

@annepi-blog @duchessdepolignaca03 @softboynick @thinkof-england

And if I forgot anyone I'm sorry!

1.) From If I Can Make Your Heart My Home (Klaine fic)

“Yes, Bradford. I’m curious as well.   What are you doing here?” Four heads whipped around quickly to focus on Lillian, her face inscrutable, watching them all from a few feet away. Bradford Anderson stepped through the doorway, forcing Cooper to back away reluctantly and frowning as he did so.  Cooper sidled closer to Blaine who had a similar expression on his face. Bradford leaned down to kiss Lillian on the cheek.  “Aren’t I allowed to come see my own mother - or even my sons?” Lillian’s mouth pursed as she debated her reply.  “I did think you and Pamela were spending the holiday season in south of France this year. You can’t blame me for being surprised at this impromptu visit.” Bradford shrugged as he removed his wool overcoat and held it out wordlessly towards his sons.  Blaine tentatively took it from his father.  Cooper quickly tore it from Blaine’s hands and tossed it unceremoniously into a nearby chair. “Yes, well, what a lovely day for a family reunion,” Cooper said tightly.  “But we were just sitting down with Nan for dinner . . ." “Wonderful,” Bradford said, cutting Cooper off from the rest of his thought.  “I think I’ll join you.”   And in a display of sheer self-centered obliviousness, Bradford Anderson waltzed out of the foyer and into the direction of the dining room, ignoring the rest of the party gaping at him as he walked by. For a few moments the four remaining in the hallways just stood in silence, unsure exactly what had happened before them. Kurt knew this was bad.  Very, very bad. He knew the last person on earth Blaine would have wanted to see right now, besides maybe Kurt, was his father. ‘Perhaps . . .I should go?”  Kurt suggested meekly. “I don’t want to interfere with any. . . um, family affairs . . .” he whispered.  Lilian sighed deeply as she closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose in an apparent sign of frustration with her own flesh and blood. “No, Kurt, please stay." she said. "You’ve been kind enough to cook for us and before our surprise guest made his appearance, I was going to ask you to join us.  I had just wanted to check with Blaine first. Blaine, sweetheart, what do you want us to do?” Lilian quietly asked. The question however, fell on deaf ears.  Blaine was all too focused on staring towards the direction his father disappeared to than listening to his grandmother. Kurt could practically feel the tension radiating off of him. “Squirt?” Cooper gently touched his brother’s arm. “Are you alright?” “Oh yeah, just perfect, “ Blaine muttered bitterly. “Blaine?” Blaine’s head quickly tuned to Kurt, who was nervously  was twisting the hem of his apron in his fingers.  “I can go, Blaine.  I don’t want to make things any more difficult for you than it already is.” “Stay. . .go.  It doesn’t matter to me,” Blaine said flatly.   “Blaine, I can tell your father to leave," Lillian said softly.  “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” Blaine’s mouth set into a grim line as he squared his shoulders and started walking in the direction of where his father had left.  “Let’s just . . .get this over with,” he mumbled loud enough for the rest of them to hear.

*****

2.) Color Me Surprised (RWRB Ficlet Friday)

*I had a fic idea that I had stalled a bit on until I got this Fictlet Friday prompt - so I've decided to combine the two:

“No.” “Yes.” “No, Pez.  I think I’d rather eat glass.” Percy cocked a well-groomed eyebrow and regarded his best friend skeptically.  “I’m confused.  I’d thought you’d be at least a bit interested.   It is a rite of passage, especially in this area, no?” Henry sighed as he tipped his head back.  “Perhaps, but one I’m not sure I want to partake in.” “Hazza,” Pez chided his childhood friend.  “You are young, single and incredibly hot.  Why are you not taking advantage on all of this?” He shook his head in confusion.  “Stop acting like you're being tarred and feathered.  It’s just an extended weekend.  You have been cooped up in this office beating yourself up over the writers block you’ve been suffering from.  I am giving you a change of scenery, that’s all.” “And I suppose you propose I find my inspiration there?" “We're going to Fire Island. It's like gay Disney World.”  Pez elaborated.  “I propose there will be many a tight-bodied, ravishing specimen of inspiration to blow not only your writers block out of the water but hopefully your back as well as . ." Pez coughed and tossed in a very pointed look. ". . . well, one could hope. . . other neglected things.”  Pez' s rather pointed look was all too familiar to Henry. Henry groaned as he leaned his elbows onto his desk and dropped his head in his hands.  Pez smirked.  He knew he had won. “There will be vodka involved, won’t there?” Henry said as he mumbled through his fingers. “Of course, my darling.  Is there any doubt?”

3.) fire island follies (Klaine Ficlet Friday)

“I don’t know if this is a good idea, San.” Santana looked over at her friend and smirked.  “Lookin’ a little green about the gills, Hobbit.  You ok?” Blaine took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he clutched his duffle bag close to his chest.  The ferry was going through choppy water, and his stomach wasn't faring well at all.  No one could blame him; Blaine was from central Ohio and hadn't had much experience being on the open ocean. He opened his mouth to respond, but the moment the boat hit a particularly large wave.   The sea vessel bounced so much that Blaine snapped his mouth shut quickly, clapping one hand over it.  Santana swore he looked even more pale than he had a minute ago. “Don’t you dare hurl on me, Anderson.  I will kill you if you ruin these shoes.” A young couple and their kid moved away from where Blaine and Santana were sitting, looking at the young man warily.  Blaine gave them a weak smile and wave before he peered down at Santana's open-toe espadrilles. “Fancy footwear for the beach, don’t you think?” Santana snorted as she wiggled her Burberry-clad foot at Blaine.  "I gots to look good for my sweetie.” She leaned over and poked him in the side.  He squawked and batted her hand away.  “Can you just give me a smile for once and not look like I’m dragging you to your death.” The boat hit another wave and bounced again.  “I feel like death,” Blaine said through gritted teeth as his stomach did another somersault. "Just kill me now." “Oh, perk up, sunshine.  We're going to Fire Island.  It's like gay Disney World."

****

Well there ya go . . am also tagging ( if you are interested in sharing whatever you are working on - writing or otherwise): @spaceorphan18 @datshitrandom @justgleekout @myheartalivewrites @14carrotghoul

@little-escapist @cha-melodius @kirakiwiwrites @caramelcoffeeaddict @almightaylor

@1908jmd @tinyarmedtrex @theprinceandagcd @iboatedhere

@gleefuldarrencrissfan @gleefulpoppet @itsmaybitheway @kurtsascot @mynonah

@esilher @cryscendo @porcelainandthehobbit @hkvoyage @madas-ahatters-world

@sarkyblueeyes

And open tag of course for any one else!

[theblogtini]

I listen your podcast episode about photogate 😅 and I think you are right that the press took all this out of proportion, however, I was reading some articles and some comments and I find this:

The agency's news values and principles explain that minor photo editing, including cropping and toning and colour adjustments, are acceptable when necessary for clear and accurate reproduction and should maintain the authentic nature of the photograph.

Changes in density, contrast, colour and saturation levels that substantially alter the original scene are not acceptable. Backgrounds should not be digitally blurred or eliminated by burning down or by aggressive toning. The removal of 'red eye' from photographs is not permissible.

And this comment (he is saying the true about being a press photographer, i checked it 😅)

I am a press photographer, and I suspect you know as well as I do that if you issue images to news agencies, they must be as they were shot and not retouched. This is to protect the public and press industry you work in. If it is news, it must be real. If an agency photographer had done exactly the same thing they would have been sacked. She has every right to photoshop her family pictures just not if she is going to issue them to press as genuine.

So, my take is that as innocent as the photoshop was, the problem is that Catherine apparently crossed the line on the things that are allowed to edit when you distribute it to media agencies. If she would have only posted the pic on social media without giving it to the press, nobody would have cared. Sure, all of us edit pics, sure, many pics delivered to those agencies have photoshop too, but apparently she just did more of what is allowed.

That being said, I find very hypocritical from the media agencies and the press to call her out for a ‘misleading’ picture as if they are too honest in their reporting of worldwide problems, they look pathetic. And it’s even more pathetic that they are now bullying her to show up or release the original picture and writing that if she doesn’t do what they say, it means there are sinister things happening (writing that maybe her marriage is bad; that she is being rebellious because she didn’t want to see the camera of the papz yesterday, how the evil palace throw her under the bus, etc).

Oh for sure. The agencies can absolutely have their rules and regulations and it makes sense that they expect a photo submission to be virtually edit free, otherwise it's not "news."

The thing is - the photo in question was never claimed to have been an unedited, unretouched image - it was a family photo posted to social media that was also included in a dispatch to the media.

Is that on Kate for not following the rules - yes, for sure.

Did she know the rules? I don't know (but ignorance of the rules does not give someone a free pass to break them).

BUT the agencies issuing a "kill notice" with such vague but harsh language ("kill notice," "manipulation from the source") also fanned the flames of this entire situation to a ridiculous level. They could have said something along the lines of "The image in question appears to have had some minor edits that do not align with our zero editing policy."

[sharp-silver4795]

EJ’s Chemistry

For @papermunchingfella who wanted to know more about this!! Thank you for indulging me and my nerdiness!!

There’s a few warnings I need to point out: If you are easily sick to the stomach, don’t like to hear about explicit anatomy, or anything like that, DO NOT READ THIS!

We gonna put this through in order just like the human body! But with a lil bit different yk?

Step 1: Ingestion

I said this in my HC post that he has 3 tongues which aid in digestion. The shortest one covers his trachea while he swallows, the longest works like a normal tongue, and the other releases similar saliva. However, this saliva is a neutral substance (neither acidic nor basic).

Step 2: Chemical Digestion

So, he works the same way as us, he has this stomach with HCl- however it’s not nearly as diluted. Rather than simple epithelial tissue, he has columnar epithelium and adipose tissue lining his stomach to prevent issues with the hydrochloric acid.

His small intestine is where things start to differ. He doesn’t have a large intestine (which, for us, lets us reabsorb water). He just one has a giant intestine. The first three areas are just like ours, but then, when food hits the “large intestine” area it’s a lil different.

What his body will do is, rather than absorbing water, it will flood it with water instead. His intestine at this point is going to take it over to (what I call) an acid bladder.

Step 2.5: Decomposition

In this area, Ammonium Nitrate (an acidic salt) will dilute with the water and some Sulfuric acid (what’s found in car batteries). This is enough to completely dissolve whatever solid waste is left.

From that point it will move to the basic “kidneys” for the acid to be neutralized with sodium carbonate (a strong base). This ends with water (as a vapor), CO2 (gas) and sodium nitrate (aqueous).

Step 3: Recycle

The sodium nitrate is a food additive for more Nitrogen, so it and most of The aqueous solution will go right back to the intestine!

Step 4: Removal

Just like any other being, waste needs to be gotten rid of.

Note: in this winding amount of chemical changes, ammonia, chlorine gas, and nitrogen gas will come up too.

Salts of any kind are often removed with sweat.

CO2, H2O, Cl2, N2, and NH3 will come out through exhale

Any extra acids/bases will get pushed into his mouth through saliva which he will drool out when he eats.

Extra Organs Explained

There is an acid organ that literally just holds it. It has Nitric Acid in it (HNO3).

The basic organ has Ammonium Hydroxide (NH4OH) in it. This is a very weak base.

Sorry if this wasn’t exactly great- there are a few gaps. So… yeah! I hope this was Alr!

Also, you can send me asks! I’m bored all the time I’d love to tell yall more abt my weird hyper fixations!!!