#the ideas within this fandom are something extra

[beatricenius]

A while back I was prompted to draw Hannibal being caught orange handed eating cheetos after too much mushroom tea

[dalishious]

A BioWare Guide on How to Murder a Fanbase

I have been a Dragon Age super-fan for almost fourteen years, now. I have played every game, with every DLC. I have read every novel, lore book, and every comic — yes, even the terrible ones that are better off forgotten. I have seen the anime film, the animated series, and the web mini-series. I have enjoyed all of these pieces of the franchise over and over, more times than I can count. So, make no mistake: the negativity you’re about to hear comes from a place of love for this fantasy world, developed by many creative people over the years. I would love nothing more than to see the resurrection of passion in the Dragon Age fandom again. But the unfortunate truth is, that resurrection is only needed because BioWare took the fandom out back and shot it in the first place.

In December 2018, three years after the release of Dragon Age: Inquisition’s Trespasser epilogue DLC, BioWare first announced the then-untitled next Dragon Age game with a teaser trailer. At this point, most fans were anticipating this would mean within the next couple years, we would see the game. This assumption was based on the fact that Dragon Age: Inquisition was first announced in 2012, and released in 2014, with an extra year of development added last minute.

There have been dribbles of extra content since then, adding to the franchise. This was enough to keep some fans still breathing and interested. 2020’s Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights was a lovely anthology. 2020’s Dragon Age: Blue Wraith and 2021’s Dark Fortress were wonderful comics tying up the story started in Knight Errant. And 2022’s Dragon Age: Absolution was a well-animated series with an interesting cast of characters and story. But all these still left the fandom with a major question: What was going on with the next game? It was untypical of BioWare to be so secretive, in comparison to how they handled sharing information of the past games in the franchise. The only form of updates fans still have to go on is mostly just concept art and short stories, hinting that something must be in production. But why was the wait so long?

In 2015, the first version of the next Dragon Age began with a clear vision, clear scope of practice, and a reportedly happy developer team. Most gloriously in my book, there was no multi-player… but this did not align with the Electronic Arts typical money-mad schemes. EA’s push for “games as a service” meant they wanted to monetize all their games as much as possible, and therefore, they wanted them to be a live service — as Anthem demonstrated, that meant sacrificing things that are staples of good RPGs, like narrative and character choice. So in 2017, version one of the next Dragon Age was scrapped and replaced. This new version would have, in total or to at least some degree, an online portion of play.

There is one part of Schreier’s article, “The Past and Present of Dragon Age 4,” that really sticks out to me, regarding this:

“One person close to the game told me this week that Morrison’s critical path, or main story, would be designed for single-player and that goal of the multiplayer elements would be to keep people engaged so that they would actually stick with post-launch content.”

The idea of splitting up components of a game into single-player and multi-player is a terrible idea, because it means that there would be a large bulk of content only accessible through online gaming; something many fans, like myself, are repulsed by. Even if I did enjoy it, I spent most of my life growing up with either no internet or shoddy internet incapable of playing online games. I know many rural people who are still in that position, losing more and more of their favourite gaming pastimes because they are locked out of the ability to play them. It is a disservice to hide content behind a wall like this, especially in a world that is so lore-heavy like Dragon Age. The news of multi-player in Dragon Age understandably upset many, and this is when I first noticed a large drop off in excitement over the next game.

However, in 2021, the failure of Anthem (multi-player) and success of Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order (single-player) led the executives at EA to bend to the wishes of BioWare leadership and allow them to go back to the drawing board yet again on the next Dragon Age. This meant removing all multi-player content!

While I am very happy that there will reportedly be no multi-player in Dragon Age: Dreadwolf, I can’t help but feel bitter and a little disgusted over the ridiculous development time spent on something no one but EA wanted in the first place. If it weren’t for this foolishness, Dragon Age: Dreadwolf would be in our hands right now. Instead, it’s been in development hell for nearly nine years and counting. Nine years is a long time to expect fans to carry a torch for you through radio silence, but it’s no wonder BioWare has shared barely anything about the next game; it’s been in flux for so long, they likely haven’t had anything concrete to show.

BioWare hurt its reputation even more when the news broke that the studio very suddenly laid off 50 people who were working on Dragon Age: Dreadwolf. This is pretty damning on its own, but BioWare took it a step further. Former developer Jon Renish shared a statement revealing that the studio was only willing to offer laid-off employees two weeks of severance per year of service, and denied health benefits. The denial of health benefits in particular is a pretty wild move for a studio with a reputation for “stress casualties”. The latest news on this is that BioWare has still so far refused to negotiate better severance packages, leading to a lawsuit. The lawsuit originally had 15 former employees, but this dropped due to the fear of not being able to afford to pay their bills. So now, while EA sits on $400 million net income, the laid-off employees are struggling to buy holiday presents for their children. These horrid business practices are not to be ignored when accounting for a lack of faith in a studio. What kind of monsters reward workers who make your games special with vaguely reasoned lay-offs?

The latest news on the Dragon Age: Dreadwolf front from BioWare came early this month, December 2023, with a trailer… announcing a trailer that will come next summer… that will announce the release of the game. Supposedly. Maybe. We’ll see. But by this time, BioWare is something of a laughing stock of their own fandom. Reactions to the video released with a pretty map graphic and a few rendered locations were, from what I personally observed, mostly sardonic in nature. People have commented on the vapourware nature of the game, and like all vapourware, that leads to disintegrating trust.

Despite all this, people like Mary Kirby, (one of the veteran Dragon Age writers who was a victim of the layoffs,) said, “it’s bittersweet that Dreadwolf is my last DA game, but I still hope you all love it as much as I do,” encouraging fans to still support the game when it eventually is released. But after every misstep BioWare has taken, that’s a tough sell now. Fans are finicky, RPG fans more so than others, one could argue. We have our favourites, and many of us stick to those favourites for life over our appreciation for the artistry — but that relationship between studio and fan should go both ways. EA and BioWare has betrayed that relationship, and it will take a hell of a lot to build it back up again, now.

[This piece is also available on Medium!]

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

what do you think is the line between friends and moirails for trolls? I was never sure how to feel about it, it seems so nebulous. also any idea what's with feferi trying to invite kanaya and karkat into the horn pile with her and sollux? like based on the description of moirallegiance that sounds like... infidelity. but it didn't seem like the trolls reacted that way.

What it ultimately comes down to is the fact that Homestuck is a story, and furthermore, one pervaded by things like fate and destiny, which are real and exist within its universe, and therefore, the moirails for each of our trolls has already been decided by destiny (the author).

But also, in a less meta way, the confusion you're feeling likely stems from the fandom misconception that a moirallegiance is just an extra best-friendship, which it is NOT. The stated function of a moirallegiance is to calm each other the fuck down, in order to prevent them from hurting themselves or others. It's this pacifying effect, and not whether or not they hop into piles and talk about feelings, that defines a moirallegiance.

Trolls are a very angry and violent race. Some are more hot-tempered and dangerous than others, to the extent that if left to their own devices, they would present a serious threat to society, or even to themselves. Such trolls will have an instinctive pale attraction to a more even-tempered troll, who may become their MOIRAIL. The moirail is obliged to pacify the other, to function as the better half. The two partners in a strong pale relationship will serve to balance and complement each other's emotional profiles, and thus allow their other relationships to be more successful.

Piles of stuff and feelings jams in them are associated with moirallegiance, but are not "something you only do with your moirail" - like getting coffee or holding hands are associated with dating your matesprit/human romance partner, but not exclusive to them, and, in many cases, not a form of infidelity (although they can be). For what it's worth, Eridan does call Gamzee's horn pile in the middle of the room a "vvulgar display," like Gamzee's chucked porno mags everywhere:

ERIDAN: wwhat a fuckin vvulgar display this is ERIDAN: airin out all his dirty laundry like that puttin a big fuckin pile a horns in the middle of the room ERIDAN: at least i got the upright basic decency to hide my shitty wand pile somewwhere in the lab you wwont find it dont evven bother lookin KARKAT: WHY DO YOU ASSHOLES HAVE PILES OF THINGS, JUST STOP.

So what Feferi's doing with Sollux is less "hey, come cheat with me on Sollux," and more "hey, wanna third wheel our date?"

Moirallegiance is about the "instinctive pull" and the pacification of both partners. Also, moirallegiance is very much romantic. The comic uses the word "platonic," but I think what it means is "chaste" - moirallegiance is not involved in reproduction, so there is no requirement or social expectation for physical intimacy; however, if it weren't a form of romance, it wouldn't exactly be a type of troll romance, would it?

Failed moirallegiances do not have this calming effect: Kanaya doesn't stop (or even really attempt to stop) Vriska from doing her Vriska bullshit at all, and in fact Vriska gets MORE agitated when talking to her:

AG: Ok, so you're spying on me. Kind of creepy! Man, m8y8e you should get a l8fe. AG: Or you know, if you're so h8gh 8nd might8 an8 th8nk you're so gr8at, m8y88 you c8uld oh I d8n't kn8w........ AG: TRY AND ST8P ME FROM DO8NG B8D THINGS????????

The same can be seen with Feferi and Eridan:

CC: Is t)(ere a lucky lady you are waxing scarlet for? CC: OR LUCKY F-ELLOW??? 38O CA: uh CC: Tell me! CC: Don't pretend you're all -EMBARRASS-ED SUDD-ENLY!!! CA: ok fef CA: this is NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS

And with Karkat and Gamzee:

KARKAT: DON'T YOU START WITH ME KARKAT: DO. NOT. START WITH ME. KARKAT: I WILL GET YOU IN A HEADLOCK SO TIGHT IT WILL BE A MIRACLE IF PEOPLE DON'T MISTAKE OUR TUSSLE FOR AN ILL CONCEIVED VENTRILOQUIST ACT. KARKAT: I WILL SHOOSH YOU AGAIN, SO HELP ME GOD. I WILL SHOOSH YOUR CLOWN ASS TO SHANGRI-BULLSHIT-LA AND BACK, AND FILL YOUR EAR WITH MY WHITE HOT PALEBRO SPITTLE. KARKAT: I AM FULL AND FUCKING WELL PREPARED TO GET CONCILIATORY WITH YOU AGAIN IF YOU SO MUCH AS PASS GAS MURDEROUSLY, DO YOU UNDERSTAND? KARKAT: IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT??? DO I NEED TO CALM YOUR FAYGO-STICKY TENTSQUATTING SHIT DOWN AGAIN???? GAMZEE: naw brother, i was just about to all say for you to try and get your settle down on, maybe. GAMZEE: :o(

And what makes Equius and Nepeta so successful is that Nepeta keeps Equius's tendency towards fury in check, while Equius keeps Nepeta out of harmful situations (although he's maybe doing a bit too much of that and could afford to step back):

EQUIUS: D --> As such, he is prone to being more violent and unpredictable than any of us EQUIUS: D --> Not everyone has been as lucky as I in the domain of moirallegiance

AT: iT'S PROBABLY FOR THE BEST, AT: tHAT YOU LISTEN TO HIM, AC: :33 < i dont know AC: :33 < you think so? AT: wELL, AT: iF YOU DIDN'T LISTEN TO HIM BEFORE, AT: yOU MIGHT HAVE PLAYED GAMES WITH US BEFORE, AT: aND SOMETHING BAD MIGHT HAVE HAPPENED TO YOU,

And Feferi and Sollux work because Sollux is prone to excessive self-loathing, which, mixed with his mage powers of prophesying/invoking the future, make for a cocktail of potential harm to himself and others. Talking with her keeps his head above the water (heh) and forcibly prevents him from wallowing in self-loathing:

SOLLUX: anyway, yeah, now that aa ii2 gone forever ii feel more depre22ed and u2ele22 than u2ual, and ii wa2 already pretty cod damn u2ele22 two begiin wiith, let'2 face iit. FEFERI: But I )(ave it on good aut)(ority t)(at s)(e is fine! FEFERI: Everyt)(ing is going to go swimmingly, YOU'LL S-E-E. 38) SOLLUX: you are 2o riidiiculou2ly optiimii2tiic iit'2 kiind of 2iickeniing, why do you even put up wiith me? SOLLUX: iif you weren't 2o great ii would thiink you were a fuckiing iidiiot for liikiing me. SOLLUX: 2o, ii gue22 thank2 for liikiing me?

But even though these moirallegiances are ultimately doomed, there is some amount of pacification going on, making it difficult for the trolls to tell in the moment whether or not their pale relationship is true (Karkat does manage to stop Gamzee from murdering people, for example, but fails to address his religious beliefs and underlying trauma, whereas Gamzee can't calm Karkat down at all, so they end up drifting apart after the initial Major Problem has been settled).

The fact that it's a blurry line even for trolls is explicitly stated:

It's often ambiguous especially among young trolls whether a bond formed between an acquaintance is true moirallegence, or the usual variety of platonic involvement. Furthermore, romantic intentions of a more flushed nature can often be mistaken for paler leanings, much to the frustration of the suitor.

So this is kind of by design - part of adolescence, keeping in line with Homestuck's coming-of-age themes, is the messy romance. If it were easy to piece together, it wouldn't be true to life.

HOWEVER, that all being said, special notice does have to be taken of the way moirallegiance - moreso than even the other three quadrants - has an air of DESTINY about it. Trolls believe that every troll has one destined partner for every quadrant:

But if there was one theme to be hammered through his thick skull, it would be the trolls' cultural preoccupation with romantic destiny. Yes, the romantic landscape is rife with false starts and miscues and infidelities, red and black. But every troll believes strongly that each quadrant holds one and only one true pairing for them, and it is just a matter of time before the grid is filled with auspicious matchups through the mysterious channels of TROLL SERENDIPITY. In short, their belief is that for each quadrant there exists a pair or triad of trolls somewhere in the cosmos that were…

MADE FOR EACH OTHER.

So there's already a setup in this comic, which is so rife with prophecy and foreshadowing, that every troll is eventually going to end up with their true love/true hate - but even out of the four quadrants, moirallegiance is given special weight: first of all, it is the only quadrant that is literally translated as "soul mates":

This quadrant presides over MOIRALLEGIENCE, the other conciliatory relationship. A reasonable human translation would be the concept of a soul mate, but in a more platonic sense, and with a more specific social purpose.

And second, it's called "mysterious" or "magical," even in direct comparison to black/red:

CG: AND ALL THE NUANCES OF PITY MANIFEST AS VARIOUS OTHER KINDS OF FEELINGS LIKE WHATEVER CHEMICAL REACTIONS TRIGGER MATING FONDESS OR THE MYSTERIOUS FORCES THAT ARE BEHIND MOIRALLEGIANCE.

You then proceed to have the rest of this conversation we already read, bugging and fussing and meddling through the special and magical union one can only describe as being in moirallegiance with another. At least, you guess that's how you would describe it. Maybe. Troll romance sure is confusing!

And we can't forget:

Such trolls will have an instinctive pale attraction to a more even-tempered troll

Which lends to the idea that there's a biological compulsion towards needing a moirail, same as how there's a biological draw towards finding reproductive partner(s).

But this is why I always tend to use "destined for" when discussing moirail pairs, and also why I focus specifically on which individuals calm other individuals the fuck down - like how Gamzee says he "feel[s] so at chill with" Tavros, or how Karkat goes from completely losing his shit to "yeah, so that's it i guess" after talking to Eridan.

[1moreff-creator]

Extra DRDT CH2 Episode 12 Thoughts

Heya! After making my last post where I just live-blogged my immediate reaction to the episode, I had a few more thoughts that I figured I should write down somewhere. They’re all too small for their own posts, but I still think they’re worth sharing.

Spoilers for CH2 EP12

CW: Murder, hanging, suicide.

The Water Thing

This episode brought up two interesting points which had rarely, if ever, been discussed within the fandom: Arei’s body swinging, and her body temperature and its connection to water. And while I’m relatively sure I saw one or two people mention the swinging at some point, the temperature issue is certainly a new one.

The swinging was explained in the trial: Arei’s body was hung shortly before it was found. But J says something interesting; the corpse should have been warm, unless it was drenched in water and dried. Paraphrasing a bit, but you get the point.

However, I actually don’t think this is a big deal, just adds a slight addendum to previous murder theories. We know the killer dumped the fish in the playground to confuse time of death, so I believe the killer likely splashed Arei with the water to cool her down. This is assuming they even thought about the body temperature, but I don’t think this is a large assumption to make.

I have seen people claim that Arei’s hair looks somewhat wet in the BDA, which… maybe? Anyways, this idea would explain that as well.

This might even give us Possible Explanation Number I Lost Count for the damn missing glove. Maybe it got particularly wet and the culprit worried it wouldn’t dry quickly enough? If people discovered a dripping wet bowling glove, the whole “using fish to confuse the time of death” thing would kinda go straight out the window. I have no idea if that makes any amount of sense, I don’t see why the glove would dry any slower than the rest of her clothes, but oh well.

Arturo’s Talent, and his Recap Foil: Levi

(Here’s the link to the original Recap Foil Theory post by gleamingtempest, in case you don’t know what I’m talking about).

Kinda forgot this was a thing when first watching the episode, but now looking back on it, there’s some neat foiling going on. Levi and Arturo’s backstory already were somewhat opposites in some aspects: Arturo got away from home himself while Levi was disowned, though Levi seems to hold a higher degree of respect for his family in comparison to Arturo. Levi is (now confirmed!) a murderer with no remorse, while Arturo accidentally caused Felicity’s death to some extent and clearly feels guilty about it. Etcetera.

Well, we can add a new detail to this foil! Arturo’s been training his talent since he was twelve, while Levi has admitted since introduction that he’s “a novice to fashion.” Neat detail, and certainly adds to this theory.

Terumin VS Xanvid

Thanks to Haru for pointing this out, but Teruko’s “I’ll fix my mistake” echoes Min’s “I’ll fix your mistake” from her Argument Armament. As I mentioned in the linked post, it’s cool that Teruko is taking a sort of Min-like attitude to her mistakes while calling Xander out, while David is taking Xander’s side in the same trial he calls Min pathetic. Foils and all that.

(Doomed Yuri V Doomed Yaoi, fight!)

This makes me hopeful that Min will still have some importance later. But I’m probably just coping.

What Was David Cooking?

I am kinda sick of talking about this man, frankly. I blame the almost three hour video I made on his MV. But oh well, he’ll stop being center focus soon enough. For now, His Deal is still one of the most central aspects of the episodes, so discuss him I will.

There are two big points of contention with what he said this trial. First, what does he remember about Xander? Second, what was he actually trying to do by pretending to be Arei’s murderer?

The first is pretty simple to assume, I think. David remembers whatever Xander did to become the Ultimate Rebel, and respects him as a result. Especially since Xander’s numeral I in LGI, the Footnote 14 code solved by y-prime, is “I have always looked up to you.”

I don’t think David has Hope’s Peak memories, despite his weird wording with “even if you all lost a year of memories.” He specifically says he and Xander had never met in his Prologue introduction, before they had any real reason to believe they’d lost memories. The LGI video also doesn’t add anything, because… well, it’s not a Milgram MV. It doesn’t come from his memories, it exists purely in meta. This is evident from the comments referencing Byakuya, Nagito and Kokichi, characters these people should have no knowledge of as Veronika claims not to remember anything like the DRDT killing game happening before; certain references to conversations and details David shouldn’t be aware of (mainly in numeral placement), etc.

(While I was writing that, the dev seemingly clarified that David does not have Hope’s Peak memories, then deleted the tweet, so. Just in case, there’s the full reasoning)

The second one is trickier. David is following Xander’s ideals, but that’s all we know. We don’t have a concrete idea of what Xander’s ideals really were, and it’s even harder to know what David thinks Xander’s ideals were.

David: I’m sure he had a good reason. I believe that he did. Xander is not the kind of person to do anything for frivolous purposes.

He believes Xander had a good reason for trying to kill Teruko, he says he’s sure of it, but he never implies to know exactly what the reason was. And if he doesn’t know the exact reason, he can’t for sure say what ideal Xander was upholding by doing what he did.

But, he knows what Xander was trying to do; kill everyone. Because if it was just Teruko, he wouldn’t have tried to mislead people with the CD thing. Although, Xander was following that one note that said to “kill Teruko Tawaki,” so it could potentially be targeted.

So, taking credit for Arei’s murder to try and kill everyone is because Xander tried to do something similar. But the deeper reason he gave, about the nature of the killing game, is it true?

(Apologies in advance for the particularly horrible collage. I am without a reliable computer atm)

David [Annoyed]: Ugh, fucking fine. You want an answer so badly? Any answer?

[Face covered] …

I…

[Sweating] Ah… We’re… in a television show, after all. That’s… what MonoTV said, right?

“Entertainment” is an ongoing show.

If Min successfully got away with the very first murder and escaped while we all died, isn’t that way less interesting for a TV show?

What’s the point of roping 14 other people into one murder, only to kill them all off immediately?

The killer is supposed to fail and get executed. We’re all supposed to catch the killer, again and again, and participate in trial after trail. You’re *supposed* to try to survive.

All of you, who are trying to slice these class trials to continue living on are playing straight into MonoTV’s hands.

[Confident] As if I’ll accept that.

I don’t care how low I’ll sink, or how despicable I’ll have to become. I’ll do anything to carry on Xander’s ideals by ending this killing game, even if it means that I have to dirty my hands.

Oh, this man is lying out his ass.

This is not an answer you hesitate over if it’s true. The words David is saying are neutral; the show is meant for entertainment, and it’s not entertaining if people die early. There’s no controversy there, no reason to be nervous. Especially since Eden’s already come to the same conclusion.

Veronika: You know, Eden once thought of an interesting plan to end the killing game. Based on everything we know, it could theoretically work.

[…]

To make a television show so boring they have no choice but to shut it down.

All we have to do is nothing.

You’re not supposed to be sweating when you’re effectively repeating something Eden said, even if under a different context.

First, David says he’ll give “any answer”, already making anything he says shady. Then, he seems to deliberate on what to say, which is already suspicious.

The most notable thing is that when he starts talking about the TV show, and what it means for it to be entertaining, he still hesitates. If his plan really was to make the TV show boring, once he decides to spill the beans, there’s nothing to hesitate about.

He only regains his confidence at the end, ironically when he’s saying the actually insane stuff. He finally finds the character he was trying to play and actually says something true; he wants to uphold Xander’s ideals and end the killing game. But I really don’t think it’s because he wants to make it boring.

In other words, he’s not lying about wanting to follow Xander and end the killing game, but his explanation about the entertainment has nothing to do with that. It’s way too simple of an explanation for the amount he hesitates. At least, that’s what I think, I may be wrong.

That brings us to the question; if he didn’t take the blame to make the game boring, why did he do it?

Well, currently and without too much confidence, I believe it has to do with Xander’s secondary goal; killing Teruko Tawaki.

One of the most well-accepted theories in the community is that David’s secret, “everything in your life is worth killing over [and] the killing game is all your fault,” isn’t Xander’s, but Teruko’s.

(In fact, side theory: I’m betting (on little evidence) that by the end of the trial, it will be David with his fanboy knowledge to point out that the “survivor’s guilt” secret that Min “received” was actually Xander’s, and reveal by process of elimination (since it’s likely going to be revealed in the trial that Hu has Veronika’s secret and Veronika has Hu’s, assuming those theories are true) that Min has the poison secret. It’s a bit of a wild prediction, but I think it’s a reasonable possibility to how the series would go about confirming the secrets of the dead)

That, combined with the fact that Xander followed a note that told him to kill Teruko, would certainly be enough for David to decide that Teruko’s gotta die. And killing everyone in the class trial is probably the best way to ensure that happens, since David probably doesn’t hunk attacking her directly is a good idea. If Xander, physically the strongest student in the cast, couldn’t get past Teruko’s luck, what the hell is David supposed to do? Especially now that she carries a knife, though I’m not sure David knows that.

It’s not even that out of nowhere; in the LGI video, Teruko’s numeral XIII appears next to a quote regarding the child of Omelas among other things. Very long story (skip to 1:22:22 in this video for the full explanation), but the child of Omelas is someone who must suffer so everyone else can live in a perfect world. It’s possible David thinks of Teruko, for one reason or another, as the Omelas child; she’s gotta die so everyone can be happy. She is someone “deeply unloved” after all.

Now, is this a stretch? Certainly. But I don’t think David’s telling the truth about his motivations, and I think this is one of the more likely options as to what exactly he was cooking here. I’m sure there’s better explanations out there, I just haven’t seen them :v

David VS Whit

I kinda skipped over the “Red Herring pun to David Freakout” line at first, but I think it’s pretty interesting that David gets so mad at Whit’s behavior. They are Recap Foils, so it makes sense they’d have strong emotions towards each other.

In particular, I’d like to point out how David gets mad at Whit for something similar to what he does as a motivational speaker.

I mentioned it in the previously mentioned section of my LGI analysis, but I believe part of the reason David hates Teruko is that he sees himself in her (pessimistic, thinks the world won’t change, etc), and this would be the other side of that. David constantly says things he doesn’t believe to make people happy, and he considers that to be pretty stupid, so it makes sense for him to get frustrated when seeing Whit doing something similar, trying to raise spirits by telling jokes. Looking at Whit is sorta like looking in a mirror, and David hates that. The mirror in LGI is labeled “reflection is due” for a reason.

I’m not fully sure this works 100%, but I think it’s at least worth considering.

Updates on Eden!Culprit Levi!Accomplice

In case you’re new here, here’s a link to my post detailing the Eden!Culprit Levi!Accomplice theory, which I came up with alongside some other theorists, and is what I currently believe the murder to be. My thoughts on possible character motivation and the such have shifted a bit since then, but the important part is the physical evidence. In particular, the combination of Lockdown Logic to determine Eden most likely took the tape from the gym and the Fish Timeline to determine someone else must have helped her get the fish, combined with the overly complicated murder method which I describe in detail, leads me to believe Eden is the blackened, and Levi helped her kill Arei.

I’m not going to talk about other theories, I’ll let the dedicated theorists perfect them with the new evidence in their own time. But, how does this theory change?

On the surface, uh, not much. We haven’t talked method much, after all.

(Side note, I know some people are bothered by how long that’s taking, and while I kinda get it, I’m not bothered by it. We’re in no rush; I prefer it if all the character conflict is addressed at some point, even if it delays talking about the actual method. Better than it going unaddressed, after all)

The only change is adding that they splashed Arei with water to hide her body temperature, but as discussed, that’s a minor change.

The big wrench thrown into this theory is the end, because… I’ll be honest, dear audience, I have no clue what Levi’s cooking here. Like, at all. Zero read on why he’s revealing his secret. I could try to speculate, but I can’t find any fully satisfactory answer even outside the Levi!Accomplice theory. Nothing makes sense to me, so I’ll just wait for the next episode before trying to read into it.

There is one unrelated thing I want to bring up, though, and it’s related to Levi’s possible motivation. I know this is one of the biggest sticking points in the theory (obviously), so I’d like to talk about it.

As a refresher: although alternate ideas have been offered, my current guess is that it has to do with his desire to be a good person, and the fact he considers Eden a good person. Cue the whole “A Good Person” hidden title behind “All That Glitters.”

Levi: Perhaps I messed up yesterday. But I want to move on. I want to keep trying to become ‘a good person,’ like you, Eden.

The idea goes like this. Levi thinks Eden is good, and so he wants to do good by her. Based on the secret quote in the code of his character page, we can tell he prefers to speak through actions. He’s a bold action man, and that can cause him to come off as heartless.

Levi: I always believed that a person is defined by their actions alone. But maybe that’s just a poor excuse for my heartlessness.

My personal theory (again, other Levi motives are possible) assumes that Levi believes someone will win the killing game eventually (and this is an assumption, I won’t deny it), and if only one persona can escape, he’d rather it be Eden than anyone else. Again, “good person.” Levi will die, sure, but unless he becomes a blackened himself, he’s going to die regardless whenever someone gets away with murder.

Now, this isn’t anything drastically different than what I said in the theory post, so why am I bringing it up?

Well, the thing is… Doing something horrible, throwing away your own life and those of most of your peers, all for the sake of the one you’ve deemed to be “a good person”…

Now where have I heard that before?

David: But doing “good” things requires sacrifice. Sometimes that sacrifice is being seen as a good person.

Even if doing something makes you hated, if that action is for a greater good, then it’s an action you have to take.

Xander is a good person. He’s the only good person I’ve ever known. I swear, I’ll follow in his footsteps and—

Huh. Funny how that works.

My point is that not only is “doing good by the only good person here” now a pre-established line of reasoning these characters can have, Levi doing such a thing for Eden would be a very interesting parallel to what David tried to do for Xander.

This isn’t evidence, to be clear. Just because one guy does it, doesn’t mean a completely unrelated dude is gonna do it too. But I’m calling it now as a potentially interesting parallel to explore, either in canon if I’m right or, like, an AU if I’m wrong :v

That said, I will point out that Hu’s capital G Girlboss Moment is directly after this, the one where she chews David out for deciding what’s best for all of them without consultation. And a little bit afterwards, Levi starts acting weird, apologizing for being useless, revealing his secret, etc. These two things could be connected, if Levi is, like, having second thoughts after that.

I could see a world where Levi’s trying to bring the conversation towards the right answer without fully committing to it, only for something or someone to somehow convince him back to accomplice-hood middway through it. I find that immensely unlikely, to be clear, but again, I genuinely have no idea what Levi’s trying to do right now, so.

All in all, a pretty neutral episode for this theory. Next one could completely break it, though, so I’m excited. I might have to come up with new theories! >:D

God I missed DRDT. And the only drawback of coming back is re-opening LGI trauma :D /silly

Anyways, thanks for reading! See you on the flipside!

[cas-readsandwrites]

Lavender: Interludes

Set in Jackson post TLOU S1 in the Lavender universe by @justagalwhowrites, a few little scenes of Joel, Doc, and the fam in Jackson. Listen I am not pregnant, I have no desire to be pregnant, so I don't know WHERE this came from, but I love soft Joel healing from his trauma and finding love and joy in his family! Content: Reader is described as pregnant. There is smut. And fluff. And love. Grab some ice cream and your heating pads if you're in the same time of the month as me. Minors DNI. 3.6k words

I am not quiet about the fact that Lavender is one of my favorite fanfics, in my two decades popping in and out of various fandoms. Doc and Joel are my distraction and angst and comfort when I need it. Sometimes my imagination runs a little wild.... many many thanks to Kit for creating these characters and being totally cool with the fact that I wrote a little fanfic of her fanfic :D So here we go!

~~~

Joel had walked into the house late one evening, after patrol had gone long and he had to wait to give report to the next crew going out. He was extra antsy and wanted to get home, now more than ever. This was his last patrol for the next several months, as he would not need to leave the walls of the town during the last month of your pregnancy and hopefully not for a month or two afterwards. He would be put on extra shifts on guard duty or with the carpenter crew, but as long as he was within a quick run down the street or an ear-shot of someone yelling for him with news of you, he was fine with that. 

Anyway, when he had come home, you had been standing in the middle of the living room, seemingly all the sheets and blankets from the house around you and stacked in a laundry basket at the bottom of the stairs. All of the glasses and mugs were sitting out drying on the counter, as well as the few baby bottles you had brought home from the clinic (just in case you had said, hopeful that you would be able to breastfeed). All of the lights were still on upstairs. 

“Baby,” he said, matter-of-factly, “what the hell are you doin’?”

You spun around, holding a fitted sheet in your hands, fresh from the laundry line outside. The town was encouraged to use the communal laundry whenever possible, to limit wear and tear on the machines in the houses, but understandably many families had middle-of-the-night unexpected messes or heavy loads that they would do at home if the mechanicals still worked. The dryer in their house was still inconsistent, as much as Joel took it apart and banged on it and put it back together, it gave them a few good spins before shuddering to a halt again. Thankfully Tommy and Maria’s across the street was still functional, adding to the growing list of ways that he felt like he was in… well, a commune, with his brother as their lives and households continually overlapped, something he suspected would only increase after the baby was born.

“I think I’m nesting,” you answered back, looking around at the piles of fabric and wiggling your fingers in the sheets. “It seemed like a good idea to have all the linens clean, and then I was hand-washing some things in the kitchen, so it seemed like a good idea to clean off some of the dishes and things we haven’t really used, they were kind of dusty and I didn’t want it getting in the bottles…” you trailed off and sighed. “Ok, it looks ridiculous, but trust me, it needed to be done!” 

Joel wasn’t about to fight you on that, as much as he worried about your health and safety in what he viewed as an extra-fragile state, it seemed like you had come even more alive with an extra vivacity throughout your pregnancy. Even when you were throwing up, or cranky with hormones, you were even more feisty. Which was saying something, considering all the times you had verbally sparred back in Boston, along the road to Jackson, even back when you were taking care of yourself and your grandmother all alone. “Ok, well… can I help you?” he asked. “Seems like you got it in hand, but please don’t tell me you’ve been carrying laundry around all day.” 

You waved your hands again, corners of the sheet scrunching around your fingers. “Ellie put up with me for a while and did the heavy lifting with the wet things. She wanted to go out for the evening, though, so it’s just been me and the folded piles tonight.” You looked around as you tucked the corners across and into each other, neatly snapping the sheet and folding the edges in. “I guess if you can take these all back up into the closet upstairs, then it will be mostly done.” 

You looked around at the folded pile in the basket, mentally cataloguing your task, before seeming to snap out of it and look back at him. “But you just got home! I’m so sorry, blame my brain for being wired towards this.” You waded through the piles and threw yourself into his arms, even with your stomach grown with his baby, still fitting in just right where he could wrap around your shoulders and your back and you could lean into that space against his chest. Joel ran his hand up and down your back, around your side, warm palm against the place where your child grew. You hummed as he kissed the top of your head, centering himself as he always did when coming home on your scent and the warm gravity of you in his arms. 

“Why don’t you go up to bed?” he murmured against your temple. “I’ll get the rest of this. You’ve been on your feet a lot. Please go lay down? I’d love to just… be with you tonight.” You nodded, tipping your head back to kiss him. He anchored himself to you, the press of your lips against his. 

“I’m glad you’re home,” you said, squeezing him again before stepping away and looking around at the living room before walking upstairs.

They had been in this house for several months, well-established in Jackson, but he couldn’t shake the nighttime routines yet, circling the first floor of the house, checking that the exits were clear, locked, lights off, locking his rifle in the downstairs closet, keeping his sidearm in the nightstand next to his side of the bed. He heard you moving around the bathroom and treading the hallway into the bedroom. Thankfully, Ellie came home not too soon after as he was finished folding. She shrugged and tilted her head with an eyebrow raised in a nonverbal I don’t know, man, it wasn’t my idea. He handed her the basket and wordlessly gestured up the stairs. She just as silently tilted her forehead against his arm as she passed in a greeting and good-night, and they trooped up the stairs together. “Good night, Ellie!” he heard you call across the hall.

He showered, washing off the road and sweat, before climbing in bed behind you, already nested in your structure of pillows. “Mmmf,” you murmured, nestling back into his chest. He traced the line of the back of your neck with one hand and looped his arm around your front, resting on your stomach. You traced the back of his hand with your fingers in the dark. It didn’t seem to take much, even at this stage in your pregnancy, and soon you were bringing his hand below the slope of your stomach to that place between your legs that seemed so much more sensitive nowadays. 

“Baby,” he murmured in your ear, “you gonna be ok? Don’t want to hurt you…”

You moaned quietly as his fingertips traced your clit, leading down to your center, tracing your entrance and just dipping inside. You gasped and tilted your hips, moving your leg to open that space for him. “Please, Joel,” you breathed, trying to be quiet, mindful of Ellie down the hall. “I trust you, I know you won’t hurt me, I want to feel you, please…”

He kissed the space below your ear, the scratch of his beard tickling the back of your shoulder. “Don’t gotta beg for me, sweetheart, always gonna give you what you need.”

Urged by your own hand, he felt the wetness from your entrance already, dipping his fingers in to coat them, coming back to your clit, warm and aching. It didn’t take long for the pressure from his fingers, alternating between circling and lightly pressing on your sensitive areas, before he felt you throbbing, heard your tiny gasps as you tugged on the corner of your pillow, thrusting your hips back into his as he brought you to your edge. Even after months of your reassurance that you knew he wouldn’t hurt you, had never done so, and you still obviously wanted him, he waited for your cues. He tried to ignore his hardening cock, but your thrust backwards had nestled him into the soft flesh of your ass, so warm and delightfully more from pregnancy, and he couldn't help as he rocked against you. Even as you came down, you pushed his hand back towards your center, hitching your top leg up to rest on his, reaching behind for his hip, holding him close.

He ran his hand down your leg, gripping your thigh against him as he moved to push himself against you, the heat and wetness from your center drawing him in. He lined the tip of him with your center, your body grasping to pull him in, as if promises over decades and the proof of your love growing inside you weren’t enough. He stopped only long enough to ask, “this ok, baby? You feel alright?” 

You whimpered, tilting your head back towards him, and he ran his nose along what he could reach of your jaw, kissing the side of your neck, breathing against the edge of your ear. “Feels so good, please, don’t stop,” you whispered, rocking just so the tip of him slid in. He closed his eyes, focusing on the feel of you around him, pressed against him, as he slid inside you from behind. You bit your lip to stop from crying out, rocking back into him with abandon. He had to focus to stop from coming immediately - how could he not, the softness of the most round, plush parts of you pressed against his body and in his hands, your warmth even more enveloping. He focused instead on the lines of your body, kissing your shoulder, gripping your hip as he thrust in and out, syncing with the rocking of your hips. His hand slipped around your front to the top of your legs again, circling and rubbing against your clit. You were so lost in your pleasure, grasping at the blanket in front of you, and he wanted this to last as long as you needed. Unable to see your face or kiss you, giving himself into your body wherever you would take him, he used his words instead, punctuated by his own groans and pleasure. Words of praise and promise, your beauty, the sensation of your body, goddess that you were, holding both himself and your child together deep inside yourself. 

-finally, “oh, fuck, there you go baby, I can feel you, so ready, come on-” and you turned your face down into your pillow, breathing heavily, as your body fairly shook with your orgasm, clenching and rippling around him, and he held on tight and rode it out with you, thrusting up once, twice, one more time until he felt himself come apart deeply and at home in your body. 

The two of you lay together in the tangle of blankets and blankets, now kicked down around your legs and askew around you, his chest heaving with deep breaths against yours. He felt you melt into the mattress. After a moment he checked himself, not wanting you to need to move, and cautiously lifted an arm to brace himself against the mattress. You made a little noise and tilted your head back against him again. He reach in front of you and sat partway up, leaning over you to kiss you at an angle, reassuring you, and himself that you were still alright, that he hadn’t hurt you or pushed you too much in some way that he would have no way of knowing about, his memories of the only other pregnant woman in his life so far distant and embroiled in its own tinge of sadness and self-doubt that none of it was to be trusted. Only you, here, your daughter for all intents and purposes down the hall, the solidity of this house, was what he could count on. 

He kissed you again and nuzzled against your forehead. “Lay down, baby, I got you. Need anything?” he felt you shake your head and settled against your pillow. He smiled. You often had a hard time falling asleep and staying asleep as you advanced in your pregnancy, but something about the release of sex would turn you into goo and put you to sleep afterwards almost right away. 

He carefully sat all the way up, leaning over you to reset your pillows where you liked them, against the pressure of your knees, hips and belly supported against the mattress, under your arm, one against the small of your back. When you were tucked in and covered, he quietly stepped down the hall to fill your glass of water and set it down next to you, checking again the lights outside and the door to Ellie’s room, before sliding carefully back in behind you. Not able to get as close through your fortress of pillows, he rested an arm along your hip, breathing in the scent of your hair that always seemed to end up draped across his pillow.

He heard you sigh and shuffle, and was about to ask what else you needed, before you spoke quietly, through the cloud of sleep he knew was almost ready to carry you off. “I love you,” you murmured into the soft darkness of the bedroom. He leaned his head forward, resting his forehead on the space between your shoulderblades, just behind your heart. “Love you so much, baby,” he whispered, squeezing your hip, before sleep claimed you both. 

~~~

Joel and Tommy watched as you and Maria talked in the living room of Tommy and Maria’s house after dinner, while they stood in the doorway of the kitchen drinking whiskey, judiciously keeping the scent of alcohol away from your pregnant self and Maria’s breastfeeding. Well, Tommy was watching Joel as Joel watched you shuffle on the couch, gently positioning yourself to rest your lower back. “She doin’ ok?” Tommy asked, trying to catch Joel’s eye. 

Joel glanced over at his brother like he was unaware they were even in a conversation together. “Oh- yeah. She said her legs and back are starting to get real tired. Tried telling her to rest more, but you know her, says moving is actually better and she doesn’t want to leave the clinic yet.”

Tommy nodded, knowing this brand of his sister-in-law’s stubbornness and resilient streak. “You ever try doin’ the thing where you stand behind her and lift up her stomach?”

Now Joel was really looking at his brother. “What?” he asked. They didn’t really… talk girls. Joel did his best when Tommy was growing up to have The Talk (that went pretty well, living embodiment of the consequences of Joel’s actions usually screaming in her high chair in the background of those conversations when Tommy would be headed out the door to pick up yet another date) as well as trying to make sure his brother was generally a respectful and polite person to a partner, but other than that, they didn’t really talk about the ins and outs of each other’s relationships. Until you. Even way back when, yours and Joel’s relationship had been more real, more recognized, tangible, than most other things in his life.

“Yeah,” Tommy said, “you know, like you’re gonna hug her from behind or somethin?” He demonstrated in the air in front of him. “Get your arms around her and under her stomach, towards the bottom, where Maria always said was the most sore because it was heavy, stretching out some muscles, and just-” he linked his fingers together, glass carefully balanced in one bear-paw of a hand- “hup.” He demonstrated gently lifting a beach ball in front of him.

Joel watched his brother looking like he was trying to hula hoop in the middle of his kitchen. “Sure it doesn’t hurt her?” Tommy laughed and patted his brother on his arm. “Be gentle, man. Naw, Maria loved it. Would have walked around behind her for the whole last month for her if I could’ve.” Joel nodded, regretting already the time he missed in his brother’s life, refusing to accept his new marriage to Maria, blocking out the thoughts of his brother becoming a father, when all his brother had done for him was to step into Joel’s own life and take on Joel’s burdens as his own. By the time Joel and his girls had made it back to Jackson, several months had passed and Maria had already given birth. 

Tommy patted his arm again. “She knows you’d do anything for her. Maria and I will, too. Need a babysitter or an extra hand when it’s time, just holler.” He gestured with his glass towards their window that overlooked the street, across which your home with Joel was softly illuminated by the front door light, waiting for you to come home. You caught Tommy’s movement out of the corner of your eye, looking up and smiling at your husband and your brother-in-law together again, as they should be.

The next day, you were walking slowly around the house while getting ready for a shift at the clinic. You were still the only doctor in town, though they had gained a few additional staff that, while not quite trained as well as you’d hoped nurses would be, were improving as medical assistants and able to triage and take histories and help with physical exams. One of the more senior nurses who had been in town for a while had taken on the heavier medical work before you had arrived. She had taken to your education and you had recently “graduated” her from your unofficial training and dubbed her a nurse practitioner, only needing to sign off with you on certain types of cases. The extra help meant that at least you could sit more and slow your pace to see a few less patients, but for now you said your brain and your energy were fine, and you weren’t going to let a few bodyaches get in the way of being present for the people who needed the knowledge that only you had. 

Joel watched as you stood in front of your dresser, choosing which top to go over your precious few pairs of pants they had found to be modified with a maternity band. You sighed and rested your hands on the small of your back, leaning just so, trying to stretch - well, everything. 

Joel begrudgingly remembered his brother’s words, knowing he was going to be eating shit for a while, Tommy being more of an expert in the “pregnancy and infancy caregiver in the apocalypse” duties. Joel still had him beat in the teenager department at least. For now, though, he walked up behind you to kiss your temple, slipping his arms around you as he often did to trace the contours of your body, holding your hips or placing a palm to feel the baby.

“Wish you would call it at the clinic, baby, I really do,” he murmured. 

“I know,” you sighed, “not yet, though. My mind feels fine. I’m taking it as easy as I can there, I promise, and you know I’m in the right place if I need anything.” You looked down at his hands gently circling your stomach. “I know by now it’s useless to ask you to not worry, but please, take it easy on yourself, too,” you said, placing your hand on his.

Joel wanted to bury his face in your hair, carry you to bed, hold on to you and rub your feet and bring you tea for the next four weeks. He didn’t deserve you, mindful as you were towards his worries and the health of the entire town. “You’re askin’ for the impossible, babe, you know that.” 

You laughed lightly. “I know. I can try. At least I didn’t leverage doctor’s orders this time.” You tilted your head back, resting on his chest. “I’ll take a few more days, keep making some plans with the staff, and see how I feel later this week. ‘kay?”

“ ‘kay,” he echoed. You moved to step forward and reach for a dresser drawer again, but Joel followed and gently tugged you back against him. You opened your mouth to softly protest - you did need to get moving, after all - but Joel slid his hands firmly under your stomach, warm and sturdy, and without even realizing what was happening, you felt the pressure in his hands increase and a blessed lightness spread across the top of your hips and your pelvic muscles. 

Joel leaned back just slightly, the weight of your belly in his hands, and he heard you make a noise he had never even heard you make in bed. “Oh God,” you groaned, drawing it out in a soft sigh. “I didn't even realize how much that- please don't move, I just want to stay-” you let your arms drop, thoughts of a shirt vanishing as you let yourself be cradled in this temporary, bodily gravity defying relief. 

Joel wanted to chuckle at your words, but the deep instinct to simultaneously protect you while bringing you so close, around him, be inside you, kicked up again. He could only rest his forehead on the crown of your head, remind himself that you were here and whole and healthy, and marvel at your innate strength and abundant spirit to allow your body to be changed for him and for your family. He would always strive to be worthy of you, he knew that now. For now, that meant standing quietly in your home together, swaying gently, holding you and your child, your whole universe in his hands.

[zikadraws]

An actual question which is pretty popular in the Splatoon fandom, how do you think lings wash themselves? Keep themselves clean. Canonically it is stated that water affects them.

Well I actually think I got a pretty good idea of this one !

I've made a little illustrated guide which pretty much summarizes it all, but here is my thought process beneath it anyways. (Long post buckle up)

So, while it's true that in my mind their ink is already taking care of most of their dirt, one can only swim into their own body fluids before it starts to reek. Especially while being a(n ink)fish. Besides, enemy ink inevitably creates irritations if not properly cleaned off at least once or twice a day. (Off The Hook advises to clean your tentacles thoroughly after a match canonically.)

Now about the water issue, the main thing to keep in mind is that it's mentioned it dissolves Inkfish, sure, but only if they are submerged in it (because ink is less dense that water). So I think that they can take water drops, although it's also mentioned (in a game dev interview) that their skin actually breaks really easily.

But they CAN clean themselves nevertheless ; they just have to follow a few rules.

-----------

Absolutely NO BATHS.

Showers only, but put on the lightest drop setting, to the point the water feels more like drizzle (the type of rain they endure the best), just enough to get them moist and allow them to get themselves clean.

(There are specially designed shower heads on the marketplace for that, although it's the norm to have a shower with multiple options. It's recommended to always test the shower when looking for a new place, and use a portable spawner for the first times to be extra secure. Also, check your water pressure before going for a shower.)

Be gentle with your skin and tentacles while cleaning. Use foamy soaps, preferably, and soft sponges. If you're too rough, you might break the skin.

Only run the water to get yourself moisturized, then to wash the soaps. Not any more than needed.

At any time, if it starts to sting, or you feel weak, cut the water and take a break. Listen to your body.

If you don't have the time to take a shower, if you're not feeling like it or simply don't have a shower, there are always specialized body wipes available anywhere in stores. Fitting different kinds of skins & tentacles, with various perfumes, they are ideal to be used between Turf Wars or for a quick groom on the go. You can even clean yourself integraly this way if you wish, but please if you must do that in public, do so in Swim Form. Be decent.

(However, keep in mind the body wipes may be somewhat cheap and required to be at least recyclable, and also a huge market/job source, they still represent a budget, and important waste. Avoid resorting to these only. Water is in most places paid for by the community.)

In any way, do not neglect your hygiene. Else you may develop irritations, itching, dry & crusty tentacles (especially in choppy tentacuts), infections if nontreated injuries, and of course bad odor, which gets pretty bad as you count as a fish. All of these can get you mocked of and ostracized, as Freshness comes from having your turf and yourself figured out and taken well care of (we like to show that off), and unlike you may think- YOUR PEERS NOTICE.

And, of course, always brush your beak and scrub your tongue at least twice a day. Bad hygiene within the beak is the least tolerable, squiddos <3

-----------

And so yeah, those are their golden rules when it comes to hygiene. As you can see, I might have gotten a little overboard with it, but I wanted to make it feel like a legit cleaning guide, as I suspect that's something that is taught thoroughly to young Inkfish.

They have various illustrated child books/notices about cleaning safety, and probably have at least one mandatory class about that when they're in elementary school or younger. Being fresh 'n shiny is pretty important, and they are taught to take care of their turf/living space and of themselves, because they need that so they can then properly show off. So they are taught how to do it properly and safely early on, and they're not kidding about that.

I mean in a social system where the store managers can straight up refuse to serve you if you're deemed not fresh enough, you've got to be a little serious when it comes to your personal figure.

Alright, I hope you enjoyed my explanation ! I had a lot of with it~ :))

(Also before I go, I just wanna add a filter I made of this same guide, to make it look like a poorly taken scientific report picture like in a Sunken Scroll, 'cause I thought it was Sunken Scroll material. Enjoy.)

(Thanks for asking, bye 🎵 =:> =:> =:>)

[miafeystits]

re: that last poll i reblogged, one of the reasons i find both mpreg & a/b/o fic kind of morbidly fascinating after many years in fandom (despite not liking either) is how these kinds of fic often function as a way of mapping the tropes and gender dynamics of cis/heterosexual romance onto (almost always cis) m/m stories without going so far as to gender-swap either character

like, this is pretty obvious with mpreg centered on cis men, which is often just the application of common pregnancy-related romance tropes to cis m/m couples (note: im excluding depictions of trans masc pregnancy from my discussion here because i just think its a separate convo with its own nuances, and because i think much of the fic im describing here generally draws from ideas about cis men & women without much consideration for transness). however its ESPECIALLY apparent if you look at common a/b/o tropes in m/m fic. namely, the fact that an a/b/o universe is generally a world in which irl gender essentialism and the resulting sexual power dynamics between (cis) men and (cis) women are able to be applied to relationships exclusively between cis men-- with one partner being dominant, often physically stronger and aggressive, and socially privileged for this (perceived or real) biological superiority, and the other partner (who is generally the one able to bear children) being sexually submissive, weaker, and thus socially disadvantaged or oppressed as a consequence.

furthermore, something EXTRA interesting to me is that in this type of fic these power dynamics are very frequently not just social constructs (the way they are in real life-- pls dont misunderstand me and think im saying women are inherently biologically submissive to men irl or something), but rather almost always depicted as a biological reality within the world of the story. this type of au (at least in m/m dominated circles) offers a way of exploring and depicting what are basically misogynistic tropes without ever naming it as misogyny or involving women at any point. and i'm not trying to make a moral judgement here--i just genuinely find it very interesting that one of the main ways that misogynistic sexual dynamics (and, frequently, the violence resulting from such dynamics) gets explored in fandom spaces is through the development of an alternate biological and social reality in which cis men experience a mirror of those power dynamics, often turned up to 11 via in-universe biological essentialism. it strikes me as a way to engage with irl misogyny and its role within relationships with a certain amount of emotional distance, for better or worse. on one hand, it might be used to explore this imbalance of power without ever needing to depict misogynistic violence happening to female characters, but on the other hand also often offers a way to engage with romantic tropes steeped in irl gender essentialism in a way that is justified within the fiction of the universe and therefore do not need to be considered as critically

now i dont think this alone justifies this trope's existence or popularity (i'm sure a large part of its popularity is people just thinking it's hot tbh, which is fine im not here to judge), and honestly i'm not interested in litigating the question of why people write or read this trope in the first place, but i AM continually fascinated by the degree to which heteronormativity is able to influence what are ostensibly depictions of queer relationships

[cranbree-thinks-sometimes]

~My liege the coffers are low, I fear that we will not last until the next payment. Prithee spare us a coin or two?~

Examples of my writing can be found here, here and here.

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Some examples of what you could request might be:

. ‘How would (character/s) react to (thing)’ for £2.50 (works best for stuff I’m familiar with)

. I have a huge list of raw quotes I could use as prompts, you could choose a quote and have me write Reader/ Y/N spit some mad facts.

. Do you want 1000 words of Reader jerking off your favourite transformer for £11.00? Mate I’ve got you covered.

. Perhaps you’re very kind and love me very much so you’ll pay me to write a 5K word chapter for one of the many fic ideas I haven’t started yet. Or pay me to rant about the fictional continent that exists only in my head. One can certainly dream.

Anyhoo, once all the details are down pat and I’m ready to start, you can send me the payment via paypal. For anything that is 1000 words and over I will send you an update when I’m halfway through. The longer the commission, the more updates I’ll send. Any NSFW or original work will not be posted to Tumblr and will be sent to you as a PDF via Gmail. Anything fandom related will be posted (though it will state that it was a commission and your username will be included) unless you specifically state otherwise. Minor edits are free but larger ones start at £1.50 depending on how much you want me to change.

I DO NOT CONSENT IN ANY WAY, SHAPE OR FORM TO HAVING ANYTHING I WRITE BE FED TO AI.

ANYTHING I WRITE IS MINE, I WROTE IT

[griffonsgrove]

Haiii!! These headcanons have been amazing!!! Could I perhaps ask for a Dr.Flug X Reader where they're a famous popstar, please?? tysm!! <3

Dr. Flug X Popstar!Reader

a/n: eeee of course I can write this!! This is a really cute idea, I hope you enjoy!! Im working my way through a few of your guy's requests so bare with me! I plan on maybe doing a few drabbles or headcanons for some other fandoms within the following days so keep a look out for that!

fandom: Villainous/Villainos words: 1026 cw: none! just super cute fluff!

(PLATONIC):

Now that you were starting to gain more and more popularity amongst people, you had been wanting to expand your musical talent to all reaches of life, whether it be good or bad.

Being a famous popstar made it easy to get connections, thankfully, and a little birdie had told you about the infamous ‘Hat Island” that was rumored to be crawling with villains, owned by none other ‘Lord Black Hat’ himself.

You were by no means a saint, let alone a hero, and thought that everyone deserved to have the joy of music, even those of lower status. So what do you do? Schedule a meeting with the most feared villain known to man!

Imagine Flug's surprise when he opens the door to see you standing there.

The man about damn near faints on the spot. A famous super-star, standing right in front of him? AND they're cute?? Oh boy.

He had heard of you when Demencia would loudly blast her music from her boombox, Obnoxious yes, but he would absentmindedly find himself humming your tunes or tapping his foot to the beat while he worked in the lab, much to his dismay.

Eventually that led to him listening to you in his (very little) free time, and he, actually?? Enjoyed?? It??

Now, the tricky part was going to be trying to convince Black Hat to let you hold a concert on his island, This old man  intimidated tf out of you, if looks could kill you’d be dead before you even stepped into his office. But, you tried to remain confident.

You offer to pay him for compensation, and give him a small percentage of the profits from your show. How can he refuse that offer? It’s money! He reluctantly agrees to your proposition, and you sign a temporary contract.

For extra gratitude you offer him and his henchman VIP tickets for your show, Black Hat scowls, saying something along the lines of “that frivolous techno music gives me a headache..” But! He doesn't deny his henchmen going!

Of course you don't leave without the eldritch putting the fear of god into you.

Demencia vigorously shakes Flug in excitement, when she finds out they have VIP tickets to your performance, for once the doctor’s eyes light up.

The night of your performance happened to be one of his best memories, he was absolutely enthralled by your singing, and he got to witness all up close!

When he comes backstage to meet you after the show he nearly faints again. You thought he was kind of cute for that really.

You excitedly greet him and his group and chat for a while. Answering questions and sharing stories, you actually find out the two of you have a lot in common! As the evening wraps up you pull him aside privately to give him your number, if he ever wanted to chat. HE NEARLY FAINTS AGAIN.

(ROMANTIC):

That’s how you two began talking. You texted frequently, excitedly sharing each other's interests. Sometimes you’d snap a photo before or after a performance, and he’d send you pictures of his latest invention, or his model airplane collection.

It’s actually you, that ends up asking him out on a date. Through a video call, his reaction was adorable, he looked almost in disbelief but dumbly nodded his head to your confession.

The both of you lead busy lives, so you carefully plan out when you can visit and when he can get the time off. (He sucks up to Black Hat for an entire week).

You settle on something quiet and not far away, you didn’t want to be bombarded by fans or paparazzi during your small visit. It’s at a small cafe, Flug claimed it made the best coffee he’s ever had.

He watches all of your shows btw. Man’s is committed. Whether that be streaming the concert on his phone while he works or going to your shows/events in person whenever you visit the island again. It’s also a plus that he enjoys your music!

You singing to him, ouGHHHH. He’s starstruck every time, entranced by your voice. He really thinks of you as an angel, maybe a siren.

Love songs!! You write several dedicated to him while your dating, he nearly cries when you reveal this to him. Who am I kidding? He totally cried.

He makes you cute little gadgets to make your life a little easier. Like a custom-made microphone for your shows, you use it every time <3.

You SPOIL him. You get that bag (pun intended) and you think he deserves to be treated with everything he could possibly want.

If you ever meet 5.0.5 you best believe you’re treating that bear like your own son. He’s such a sweetie, how could you not? And if you sing him little lullabies to help him fall asleep?? Flug’s heart almost bursts out of his chest. How did he get so lucky??

He often wonders how he bagged you (pun intended). He's pretty insecure of himself already, it really is a mystery to him. He almost feels like he doesn't deserve any of it at all. But of course, you see right through his act, and reassure him endlessly.

You both keep the relationship on the downlow, mainly for your sake. He didn't want your reputation to be ruined if the press found out you were dating a notorious supervillain. You had told him you didn't care what the public thought, but he insisted.

There are numerous photos of you on his phone, not in a creepy way though. Most of them are selfies of two of you, or from photoshoots/concerts. He def has you as his screensaver.

You loooove peppering his bagged face with kisses. He gets so flustered it's adorable!! He secretly loves them. If you wear lipstick, you love seeing the aftermath of your kiss attack, his face painted in a lovely shade of red.

Overall, being in a long-distance relationship definitely has its ups and downs, but Flug thinks it’s all worth it, especially for you, he’s willing to give it a try. How romantic.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hey!

I want take a request for the 1k event :)

Hobbit fandom, Thorin

How he react if fall in love with a single mother/ he became a step dad

Okay, but like, that is such a cute idea. Thorin is already a father figure to his nephews, and stepping into the role likely wouldn’t be too difficult for him. Thank you for sending this in. I hope you enjoy it.

Word Count: 628

1k Follower Event Rules

ao3 // taglist // 1k event masterlist // main masterlist

Thorin does not have any children of his own, but he has acted as a father figure to his nephews. So, when he falls in love with a single mother, it feels completely natural for him to slip into the role. The thing is, when Thorin first meets her, he has no idea she’s a single mom until much later, and yet that doesn’t change the way he feels about her. It’s not a deal breaker.

If Thorin meets her before the fall of Erebor, I can see him meeting her at the market in Dale, the two of them bumping into each other, lots of quick apologies, perhaps Thorin is helping her pick up the things he knocked out of her hands. A meet-cute moment that quickly blooms into something more.

If Thorin meets her after the fall of Erebor and during exile, I can see their love being a slow burn. Perhaps he is staying in a small town or village, working as a blacksmith temporarily for extra money to support himself. Their paths cross over and over again, their interactions brief before becoming something like friendship and then eventually something more.

If Thorin meets her after Erebor is reclaims and he’s king (and he doesn’t die), the dynamic would certainly be different. I think it would be super cute if she doesn’t have any idea about who he is, and therefore treats Thorin like anyone else. This is how they interact so when she finally makes a move on him, Thorin accepts, and it isn’t until later that he reveals who is he.

In terms of headcanons:

Thorin wouldn’t care if you’re a single mother or not. He sees it as a bonus that he gets to be a father right away instead of having to wait.

He is respectful of your role as the primary caregiver and understands that he’s coming in as a secondary individual. Sometimes this frustrates him because Thorin can struggle with figuring out how to act appropriately with a child that isn’t his blood relation. He wants to build a good relationship with them, but he doesn’t want to end up pushing you or the child away because he messed up.

Thorin will not take any negativity about this dynamic from outside voices. If someone expresses their opinions and it puts you and/or your child in a bad light, Thorin won’t listen to it. He is open to listening, but he won’t listen to negativity about you or your child. If you’re his, there isn’t any reason for anyone else to shove themselves in to have a say.

He is protective of the two of you, and the people who care about him the most feel the same way.

Thorin will do his best to make your life easier even if it makes life a bit harder for him. You know he does this, and absolutely hate that he puts your above himself.

Thorin always takes time to look after the kid so that you can have alone time and just because he wants to. His relationship with your child is just as important to him, and he wants this to feel like a family unit.

Thorin encourages your child to be whatever they want to be while also preparing them to take on greater roles within Erebor (if this comes after its reclaiming). Just because your child isn’t a blood relation doesn’t mean he doesn’t see that child as a son or daughter.

He won’t get it right all the time. Thorin will mess up…a lot. He is stubborn. He can be arrogant. This will certainly get in the way of things. But Thorin will always try to have some patience even when there is none to be had.

taglist:

@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot

@firelightinferno @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth

@miaraei @coffeecaketornado @cherryofdeath @mrsdurin @ninman82

@thewulf @ferns-fics @beebeechaos

[psychedelic-ink]

♡ 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝟏𝟎𝐤 + 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 ♡

I am so happy to finally be making this post, I've reached 10k a while ago but didn't have the chance to thank y'all properly so;

thank you

I am forever grateful to everyone who has supported me, read my work, reblogged, and sent asks even when I haven't been around as much as I wanted to. I really wanted to do something special but due to work and my living situation, I don't really think I can but believe me when I say I appreciate each and every one of you! 💗💗💗

As for updates, I'm still within the pedro fandom so I haven't left or anything, when I get the chance I still write for it, it's just now that my time has been very limited--on my days off I don't enjoy being at home due to my aunts and their odd behaviors, which means usually I try to find a way to leave, taking extra shifts even when I'm tired and etc because it's just been so stressful and anxiety-inducing for me to stay. Even when I do they stress me out and I end up shutting down all day. The night before yesterday I had a breakdown, cried all night, and had urges to cry during the day. I'm not sure why, but something just snapped inside me.

My series are all still ongoing and I'm working bit by bit, though I'll probably work on a couple of one-shots (your girl has so many filthy ideas) first when I do manage to sit down and write.

Writing is my biggest comfort and release and the fact that I can't do it right now has been draining me even more. I miss my blog and all of you guys and I'm trying to be more active right now because I just miss my little corner so freaking much.

That being said, I need to move out this summer and I've desperately been trying to save every penny I earn. I appreciate any kind of support that you can give and reblogs are appreciated 💗

[take-everything-you-can]

Put Your Head On My Shoulder

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

A/N: This Fandom has given me the most inspiration I've had in years and this is a thank you to every single one of you. This idea spurred from one too many drinks and unhinged DMs and I'm so excited to share it with you guys. So here goes nothing lol. A special thanks to my lady loves @lesservillain , @ghost-proofbaby , @bettyfrommars , and @bimbobaggins69 for beta reading and letting me fill your inboxes with all my little thots for our little gremlin man !

P.S : BEFORE I GET INTO ANYTHING THIS STORY IS 18+ MINORS NEED TO GTFO PLEASE AND THANK YOU !!!!! Also please remember to like and reblog from your creators It keeps the fandom alive !!! ( honestly don't know what I would do without ya'll )

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader ( Pumpkin )

Summary: A 1950's daydream of malt shop kisses and doo wop singles far behind closed doors. Dreamboat Eddie Munson picks up more than just an extra route. A love that makes you weak in the knees... but how long can you go on loving a man that isn't the one your married to.

TW: Angst- mentions of an affair (adultery), verbal abuse mentions, mentions of weight ( mentions of food within the story throughout), disordered eating, feeling unloved, self deprecation slightly, staying with toxic partner Fluff- pet names, domestic bliss, mutual pining Smut- fingering, soft touches, overstimulation slightly very slight, unprotected PIV, cream pie, spanking,..... tbh i can't think of anymore but if you see any please let me know ... Thank you all so much. ( every chapter will get updated tw)

WC: 4.1K

Flour covers the countertop in your kitchen, and a rolling pin is set to the side while you knead the soft pastry ingredients together. Apples sit freshly peeled in a separate dish. Sliced and added to sugar and cinnamon. Picking up the rolling pin, you do your best to flatten the dough to a thin sheet and mold it to the glass dish before you. 

“Well, this dough is much better than the first,” you say aloud to yourself. Your husband once told you that speaking out loud to yourself was a sign of a weak mind, you never put much stock in that. But here you were doing exactly that as your days consist of waiting for your husband to return home from work. 

You splash a bit of vanilla into the apple mixture to complete your pie filling. Once it is all tucked neatly beneath the fluffy dough, you take a knife and leave four little holes within the surface and crimp the edges together, sealing the flavors within. A touch of sugar is added to the top along with an egg wash before placing the pie on a rack in the oven. A timer is set for twenty minutes, a reminder to lower the temperature and to add your special ingredient.

Soft music plays throughout the house, Billie Holiday and Ella Fitzgerald keep you company on these long lonely days. Lonely but only for such a short time. Your husband works for the state doing something he thinks you're too dumb to understand so why talk about it? If anyone ever asks you simply say ‘Oh please you think a woman wants to know such things’. That usually earns you a laugh at cocktail parties and a warm smile from your man. If you could even call him that. 

Yes, he is your man in the sense that your last names are the same and you had shared the same bed. Where is the love though? It isn’t tangible and hasn’t been for quite some time now. Your day begins and ends with a few words apart from an I love you. You served him still, acted to the prying eyes, as a doting Wife. Four years and Everyone still thought you had a perfect life. 

That dream of white picket fences and shared milkshakes. That love of never-ending kisses and satisfying sex. Everyone around you wanted all that you had. Would they still want your life if they could see past those closed doors and shut curtains? 

Would they want to spend their mornings hiding the bags under their eyes from nights of restless sleep? Would they want to have a constant monologue of the flaws seen in the mirror? Ones that your oh-so-loving husband pointed out to you time and time again. Would they want to cook and clean knowing they would never receive a thank you? No, you knew they wouldn’t. All the small things that build and grow until it becomes a monotonous routine. Walking through days as if the next would be the exact same and then doing it all again and again, Until one day something changed. 

Two months prior A knock on the door, one that started to come once a week. The company of CC & Drums Dairy was paid to bring you a gallon of milk, A necessity your husband called it. A man with long dark locks that flowed over his shoulder and curls that dipped across his forehead under his cap. Deep Brown eyes that sparkled with flecks of amber as the sun hit him just right. Dressed in white overalls to comply with his company uniform and sleek black shoes that shine just as brightly as his smile. His name tag reads Eddie in a sweet embroidered cursive. Eddie, a name that would soon become something you would never forget. 

Your timer goes off as you check the pie, squeezing a lemon over the crust for that citrus tang. Slipping the dessert back into the oven, for another half hour or so, a knock sounds through the house, sending the butterflies in your stomach in a tizzy. Eddie had arrived.

A quick task of undoing the strings to your apron and a fast fix of hair in the mirror you had hung in the hall. A hand to your abdomen as you intake a breath and let it stagger out between your lips, hesitating to open the door. The second you see him you can feel the way the tops of your cheeks heat and plump with a smile. One that matches his.

 You take a second and wonder if he knows how handsome he is. The way the small lines beside his eyes crinkle with years of use. You wonder if he knows that the instant you see him, your heart stops beating. But most of all you wonder if you're the only one those soft eyes and long lashes catch in his gaze. 

“Afternoon darling, I must say this heat wave has got to be breaking records. Ought not keep these out here too long.” as he lifts the small crate of glass bottles holding the product out.

 You knew better than to take it from him, even if every bone in your body screamed too. The last time you tried you nearly flipped the whole crate, underestimating the weight. From that day on you always stood to the side as you let Eddie into your home to set the dairy in your kitchen. It was another thing you wondered about him. Did he do this for everyone else too?

“ Well let's not keep them then sir.” standing to the side he slides past you brushing a hand across the elbow you held to the door. His way of saying hello. Small touches here and there as he could never keep his hands to himself for too long in your presence.

“ Something smells awful delicious in her ma’am.”

“An Apple pie is in the oven, maybe you’ll stay and have a slice. For your troubles of course.” 

“Mhmm, my troubles.” Eddie sat the crate on the counter next to the ice box and turned his body towards you and enveloped you in his stronghold. An intoxicating embrace as he pulled you flush to his body. 

“ I missed you, you know that pretty girl?” soft tone, almost a whisper. A small smile he couldn't see but could feel made its way to your face. 

“I bet you say that to all the girls on your route.” he lets out a small chuckle.

“Only the breathtaking ones.” a falter to your features as your mind reeled with all the possibilities.

 Does he miss Mrs.Cunningham the way he misses you? Does he miss Ms.Buckley the same? That sick green monster finds its way under your skin as you think of all the girls he must have at his beck and call. But today that monster wasn’t going to ruin the few fleeting moments you could spend with him. You needed Eddie in the most carnal of ways.

“Do you want to know what I missed? “ Your fingers trail their way from the small of his back and up over his shoulder, landing on his neck just below his ear. Cupping his face you bring it down and catch his lips as they meet yours. 

“Oh yeah? you missed me too Pumpkin?” a second crash of your lips to his, makes him hum from the back of his throat. His nose nudges yours to the left so his teeth can catch your bottom lip, pulling back slightly to hear the small whine you emit.

“I always miss you, Eddie.”  His hands travel down over your figure as he starts to ruffle the hem of your dress up. Thankful for its length to hide how wet you had become just from him being in the home you share with your spouse. A topic you and Eddie tried to steer clear of, but the wrongness of the act just felt so right. 

Over a year your husband hadn’t touched you, barely talked to you and some days you were even sure he hadn't even looked in your direction. Eddie though, In the last two months, Eddie had made you feel seen. He made you feel heard, and most of all he made you feel desired.  

As his hand finds the thin cotton that covers your cunt he glides his digits over the wet patch that had grown by just the thought of him. A deep hum and a small huff of breath from Eddie against your neck as he kissed his way to your shoulder. 

“So wet for me and I've barely even touched you. Are you that starved for affection?” The words forming in that sweet small surrender to him were all but cut off as he slid a finger through your folds and teased your entrance. A gasp was the response he got, one he loved to hear in protest every time he had you. 

“C’mon honey tell me what you want.” how could you respond to him with words if you couldn't even think of them? The man before you had spent the last few months discovering just how to make you melt in his arms.

 He knew that the spot behind your knee was his best friend for when he had you on your back. He knew the way your hips stutter when you're close to your peak, and he knew that if your eyes found that they couldn't stay open that you were in utter bliss.

 His favorite thing he had learned throughout your time together though was that even when he knew you had your doubts, you still trusted him in every sense of the word. 

After only two months Eddie knew you better than you know yourself. Better than your husband had ever cared to know you.

“ Please, Eddie.” He smiled down at you 

“ Please What Honey?” 

“ Dip in Eddie, Fuck me please.”  He could feel the slackening of your legs as his assault on your clit had made you a bit sensitive, in his focus on making you feel as good as he possibly could, in what little time he had with you. He slid two of his thick fingers into your dripping heat as his thumb stayed in a rhythm that matched his wrist as he curled in and let the sounds of his efforts echo off the small kitchen walls. 

Moaning into Eddie's ear as his finger worked in and out of you making that heat inside of you grow higher and higher. Clutching the strap of his overalls, a small pull leaning back, as the pleasure he was giving you kept climbing. 

“ Come on now baby, let go.” A final intake of air, hold on to the breath that led you to your walls squeezing eddies fingers tight. That coil snapped as you let your body fall slack against him a loud moan from the farthest depths within you found its way out of your lungs. 

When your eyes land on Eddie after your come down all you can see is that smile. The dimple-creasing smile that kept haunting your dreams at night. 

“I need more.” You didn’t know how but his smile grew even wider and more sinister as his tone began to deepen. A kiss is pressed to your lips, not urgent, understanding. 

“ You need more? Well, it's a damn good thing that what you're asking for is in stock then Pumpkin.” He turned you around to face the small table that sat in your kitchen, knowing what he wanted from you. He wasn’t the only one taking notes from your time together. 

You braced yourself against the worn wood and clutched the sides of it as you heard the familiar clinks of metal as his rings fumbled with the buckle of his belt.  

The wait, though it is small, is brutal. Anticipation makes your stomach flip and cunt flutter. A shuffle out of his overalls gives Eddie a moment to just admire the way you listen so well. These small moments have him thanking every bad decision that got him here. To this small town, with this small job, on this small route. A route he picked up as a last resort. Yeah, he doesn't know who he's praying to but whoever is listening, he's singing grace. 

A grip in the slight pudge of your hips to keep himself steady, Eddie is gentle as he slips his cock through your folds gathering your slick over his length and breaching your desire. A deep moan and a few choice words fall from Eddie as he fills you and meets the small wavering gasp you let out, a breath you didn't know you had been holding.  A whine of impatience, his sign to move. 

A soft speed turns ravenous as his dick uses your walls to curve his hooks into you deeper and deeper. A sigh of his name and you can feel the stutter in his thrust. He slows his pace if only to keep himself from having to leave your presence all too soon.  

"Fuck darling, so good to me, taking me so well like this pussy was made for me."  You mewl from beneath him, dropping your forehead to the wood that is holding you up. You fear that if it had not been here your legs would have given up the second he started talking. "Isn't that right pumpkin? Made just for me? " A sharp thrust and you know he wants an answer in the way his grip turns bruising. A trip through your mind as you try and collect the words from thin air. 

"YES! God yes, I was made just for you." 

"Such a good girl for me baby. That's right, isn't it? You're all mine aren't you?"  Another squeeze to your hip and a smack that lands hard on your ass. Eddie's palm kneads the sting as you answer him. 

" All yours, all yours, no one else, just you baby." A grunt hum from the back of his throat as he grips your shoulder and leans so his body is flush with yours. His breath is on your neck as he leans to your ear. 

"Not even your husband, just you and me baby?" 

"Just you and me Ed's" Your eyes tunnel and you see white as your orgasm rushes through you, Eddie's own a thrust away as he moans deep against your skin. His body weight and yours against the kitchen table as you both find your way down from the clouds. 

Small kisses he leaves to your spine and the back of your neck. You turn your head and he places another small one to the upturned corner of your mouth. A bell chimes and you sit for a few seconds letting Eddie gather his own bearings. A small pat to the curve of your pussy as Eddie pulls the cotton back in place. A shock to your sensitivity.

"Keep that in there baby, that way you have a part of me while I'm gone." A heat to your cheeks as the thought of Eddie's cum dripping out of you while your husband sat across from you and read the paper over dinner. A sly smirk from the man you just let defile the small space, one you would let do ungodly things to you. 

You put on oven mitts as Eddie finds a few glasses in the cabinet. You slice into the flakey crust and slip through the filling as you place the large piece on a plate for you to share. Eddie pours milk as you find some silverware, he places the bottles in your fridge so they keep.

Turning with a smile, he is the definition of adoration. In your eyes he is everything. 

Why is it that when his time with you is coming to an end you almost wish it would end as soon as possible? Almost as if you would wish he would part with some harsh words to make you not want him in the most beautiful ways. You have to make yourself believe these things before he leaves because if you don’t, it would just shatter you. So you take a different route, you don’t shatter yourself, instead, you splinter and crack all the things that hold you until you see him again. The times where he glues those little shards back in place if only for you to break them off again and again. A scared thought and a small shake of your head trying to rid yourself of it. A married woman. What would he possibly want from you other than a good lay? 

He sees that doubt within your mind as if reading it. He takes your hand in his as he laces your fingers together. 

“ Penny for your thoughts Pumpkin?” You glance finally meeting his eyes as you clear your throat. 

“ Nothing important hun.” You slide a fork to his side of the table as your eyes dart to the clock.  He squeezes your hand once more, lowering his eyes in search of yours again. 

“It is important if it bothers you.” Your heart stops. The breath you were going to take gets caught in your throat and you turn on that winning smile you had trained yourself to hold in uncomfortable circumstances. One you wish he couldn't see through.

“ It’s nothing Eds, really.” 

“Do you promise?” you take a hand and cup his cheek.

 How do you tell him that he is your first thought in the morning and the last thought before falling asleep? How instead of counting sheep you try and count the freckles on his face by sheer memory?  How could you tell him you wish you were his one and only? That you have never felt about another human soul the way you feel about his. Instead, you stuff it down, apple pie soon to follow. 

“I Promise.”  

You know he doesn’t believe you but he would rather set out to sea and die of starvation as the sharks feed from him than to make the last moments he has with you tainted with fights and tears. God when you cry it absolutely destroys him. 

The first time you had ever let him take you in his arms you had just gotten off the phone with your husband. He had heard hushed words while he waited for you to grab the weekly tip your husband left for him. Your husband had informed you that he would not be coming home, as the fight from the night before had lingered into the morning and would now follow you well into the night. The first time you had opened the door Eddie studied the angelic features of your face, and they had plagued his dreams for such a long time at this point.

When you rounded the corner with a smudge of mascara beneath your eyes, he instantly without thinking took you in, pushing your face to his chest as his hand rested on the back of your head. Slight comfort made the tears begin again as he wiped the remainder of the smudge and irritation from your face. No man had ever done something as small as comforting you before.  In the two months since he had started this route, he knew he had instantly fallen head over heels in love with you.

You had taken two bites from the plate that sat in front of you and Eddie had finished the slice. He even went as far as to slide a finger in the crumbs on the plate and lick them off in an attempt to show you how much he had enjoyed it. His time with you. 

A gathering of glasses you brought to the sink as he brought the other dishes and sat them in the deep well while wrapping his arms around your waist and you stood eyes closed relishing in the last little bit of affection he could offer to you. 

A kiss to your shoulder as you turn your head resting it on his.

“I’ll be by in a week Pumpkin.” A nod to the fact you already knew. “ Seven days.” Another nod, not risking the crumble in your voice. “ Not long at all.”  Another small kiss to your cheek as you turned into his chest and rested your forehead on his. 

“Seven days?” 

“ Seven days Pumpkin. Do you think you can wait for me? Just seven days? “

“I think I could wait a lifetime for you Eddie.” 

“I’ll see you in a week, Mrs.Carver.”

“ A week Mr.Munson.” 

A kiss to your lips and a parting gift of his very own pie before he snuck out through the back door, so as to not raise suspicion. A slow walk from the kitchen to the door and to turn a lock, on your mind. On your hope. You could do this. You could wait seven days.

Your husband comes through the door late as he had been doing for the last year or so. You had expected it from him at this point. You had started to make his dinner later and later knowing that if you had made it too early he would tell you all the ways he couldn't eat it. If it had gone too cold he would refuse and the hard work would go directly into the trash. 

He walked in as you took his dinner off the stove and placed it on a dish for him.

“Right on time doll.”

“ I don’t know how on time it is, It’s Nearly eight in the evening, Jason!”     

“ I’m not doing this with you tonight.”  

He always did this. He would come home and you would ask him where he had been, and he’d always end the conversation before it could even begin. You sat his plate in front of him as you sat across the table from him. Times where you could really take him in and see that the feelings you had once long ago were snuffed out like a flame to a candle.

“ Are you not eating dear?” 

“ I ate a bit earlier in the day.”

“Thanks for waiting .”  He rolled his eyes and you returned the gesture. 

“ I wouldn’t have had to wait if you had just picked up the phone and told me when you were going to be on your way home. I’m not waiting until we hit a new day to eat Jason I’m not going hungry just so you-”

“ Wouldn’t harm you any though would it.” 

You left the table. Your weight had started to become a key focus as he knew it bothered you more than anything else. You had gained some weight and your mother and friends had commented on it from time to time. For your husband to tho, it made you furious. You ate when you were unhappy, it was something you had done since you were a child. The only person who thought you could stand to eat a little more had been Eddie. 

It happened slowly, you would make him food now and then, and the majority of the time He would offer you a bit. It started with a bite and progressed into cutting his sandwiches in half just so you could have something to eat. Unlike your husband, Eddie had a suspicion that you weren’t eating enough. Like you weren’t giving your body what it needed to survive so he would constantly ask for you to eat with him. At least then he would know you had something of substance within your day.  

You had gone to your bedroom and gotten out of your daily’s slowly separating them into their hampers waiting to hear the stomping footsteps of Jason as he made his way to the spare bedroom. He had taken residency there about a month before Eddie came into your life and you were thankful for the times that Eddie left you yearning for more. To call out another man's name while with your significant other no matter how insignificant they were would still bring you shame like no other.

Slipping into your nightgown as Jason shuts the door to his room you wait a few minutes to take the walk back down the stairs to stand in front of the sink. Looking up at the sky through the window above the stars seem to shine brightly. You attempt to find the little dipper and look for its companion not far from where it lays, the version of a larger size. Constellations begin to blur as you let the silent tears fall. Hoping that somewhere out there in this little old town, Eddie too is looking up at the moon and wishing you were by his side as you wished upon all the stars in the sky. What a long time seven days would be.

[escxelle]

just so that we're all on the same page, the lack of wyll content is not astarion's fault because he's a fictional character with no choice over his content.

the lack of wyll content is not astarion fans' fault either because they also do not make the choices for wyll's content. you can't blame people for enjoying and liking a character and making him popular. this also just causes unnecessary discourse and fighting within the fandom. just leave them alone and focus your anger and upset to where it could make a difference.

the lack of wyll content is not even neil newbon's fault because again, he doesn't decide wyll's content either. also i've seen people use this argument to just shit on neil's performance and acting which is just???? i saw someone say that they didn't think he should have got the game award for best performance 😭 no idea how that is relevant to wyll having no content (and also you're wrong).

the lack of wyll content, however, is larian's fault because they do make the choices over wyll's content and choose to listen to astarion fans over wyll fans. larian don't have a backbone when it comes to astarion so when astarion fans voice their opinions about astarion's content, larian will be at their beck and call but if wyll fans voice their opinions, they're completely ignored. you can't blame astarion fans when it's larian that's the pushover. instead of taking your anger on astarion, his fans or his actor, take it to larian who are the only ones who are responsible for the wyll drought and could do something about it.

in the meantime, keep giving wyll all the love he deserves and showing larian how much we love him so that hopefully they can do their job and actually give him content.

also, i thought i'd mention that some wonderful modders, Magnetuning and Aimryax, are making a series of mods to give wyll more content called the wcu (the wyll cinematic universe) on nexus mods seeing as larian can't do their job 🙄 it reuses voicelines from early access and some other parts of the game and it looks amazing :) i'm going to be downloading it for my next playthrough! hopefully, if loads of people use this mod, larian will finally take notice and think about adding official content for him. you can find the first mod in the series here: https://www.nexusmods.com/baldursgate3/mods/12174

tldr: the lack of wyll content is not astarion's fault, his fans' or his actor's fault but larian's fault so focus your attention on them and in the meantime play all the wyll extra content mods!

edit: i won't be responding or replying to people looking for an argument because, as you can see what i put above, arguing over this is just unnecessary discourse that diverts from the real problem which is larian not respecting wyll, theo or wyll fans. if you're angry, argue with larian, not me because i don't make wyll's content. neither do astarion or astarion fans or astarion's actor.

[nana-mania]

hey nana, i'm having major izana brainrot rnnnn! 😭😭

so, can you do a oneshot about bad!toman izana w fem!reader? (make it angst please)

i randomly got an idea from the word, "ephemeral" (which means lasting for a very short time or being temporary). so, izana and reader originally didn't know each other but they met at an event and that's when izana "fell" for her. they both started dating and reader gets pregnant and nine months later she gives birth to a baby boy but... sadly she passed away due to complications. (you can decide what'll happen next).

"EPHEMERAL" their happiness never lasts..

╰┈➤: ̗̀➛ oneshot

࿐*ೃ feat : izana kurokawa

࿐*ೃ fandom : tokyo revengers

࿐*ೃ extra : fem! reader, angst

THE NIGHT was thick with tension. The underground event was a spectacle, a world where the rich and powerful watched with fervor as those with darker intentions competed for honor and fortune. Music blared in the background, drowned by the roar of the crowd. It was a place where lawlessness reigned.

Izana stood in the shadows, his piercing gaze scanning the crowd. He had seen this scene countless times before, but something tonight felt different. His eyes stopped on a figure—Y/n. She was sitting in a VIP section. Her beauty was undeniable, but there was something more to it. She wasn't just another pretty face; there was power in her eyes.

Y/n was the daughter of a notorious criminal, her family's reputation both feared and respected. He knew because her father was one of his business partners. Izana had heard whispers about her, but tonight, he saw her for the first time with his own eyes. Something stirred in him. It was more than curiosity; it was an insatiable pull.

Without thinking, he moved toward her, cutting through the crowd. "You're quite out of place here, aren't you?" Izana slid into the seat next to hers. Y/n turned her head slowly, raising an eyebrow. "I could say the same to you. But I suppose, neither of us belong in places like this."

Izana chuckled, his eyes studying her intently. "Perhaps not. But we're both here, and that's all that matters."

There was a long pause before she responded, "What's your game, Izana Kurokawa? What brings you to a place like this, to me of all people?"

He leaned closer. "I could ask you the same thing, Y/n. But maybe you're here for something... more interesting. Or someone."

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a sly smirk. "Is that an invitation?" she teased, the playful lilt in her voice sending a spark through him.

Izana didn’t answer with words. Instead, he reached for a glass of wine from a passing server, his smirk widening as he handed it to her. "I know a perfect place," his voice brimmed with a confidence that made her heart race. "So why don’t we ditch this boring event together?"

He extended his hand to her, the motion as elegant as it was commanding. Y/n’s eyes flickered between his hand and his face, searching for something in his gaze. What she found there was irresistible. With a small, knowing smile, she placed her hand in his, her grip firm and steady.

"Lead the way," she murmured, her voice like velvet.

Without hesitation, Izana guided her through the throng of people, weaving past bodies and whispers, away from the suffocating heat of the event.

That was the moment everything changed. That very night.

What began as a fleeting encounter turned into something deeper. They found themselves drawn to each other in ways neither of them expected. Y/n, despite her hardened exterior, had an innocence in her heart that only Izana seemed to see. He found solace in her vulnerability.

Izana, for all his ambition and power, felt something stir within him that he hadn't in years. Her love was intoxicating, and for the first time, he allowed himself to believe in the possibility of something more.

Months passed, and their relationship deepened. They moved through the world together—two powerful individuals, united by fate.

But their love was not without its complications.

The morning was unusually quiet. Y/n sat on the edge of their bed, her hands trembling as she held the thin strip in her palm—the pregnancy test. Her heart pounded in her chest, the word staring back at her felt both surreal and suffocating.

Positive.

She closed her eyes, her breathing unsteady. Her mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions-- fear, confusion, even a flicker of happiness. But that happiness was quickly drowned by the reality of their lives. She and Izana were no ordinary couple; their world was steeped in violence and constant danger. How could she possibly bring a child into this chaos?

Y/n pressed a hand to her stomach, a lump forming in her throat. Her first thought was to keep it secret, at least for now. Maybe... maybe she could quietly make arrangements. The idea of abortion crossed her mind more than once, and though the thought sent a pang of guilt through her, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was the kinder option—for her, for the child, for Izana.

It was a gift and a curse.

Later that evening, Izana returned. He strode into the room, his expression softened the moment he saw her. She was sitting on the couch, her arms wrapped around herself, staring blankly at the floor.

“Y/n? Mahal?” he called, his voice gentle. “You’ve been quiet all day. What’s wrong?”

Y/n stiffened, her heart lurching. She plastered on a smile, one she hoped would deflect his worry. “Nothing. Just tired.”

But Izana wasn’t convinced. He studied her carefully, his instincts catching the faint tremble in her hands, the way her eyes avoided his. Slowly, he walked over, kneeling in front of her so they were at eye level. “Y/n, don't lie to my face. Tell me.”

Her lips parted, but no words came. How could she possibly explain what she was feeling? She felt her resolve cracking under his gaze.

“Izana...” Her voice broke, and she quickly turned her head, tears welling in her eyes.

He reached out, his hand gently cupping her chin, turning her face back to him. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he urged, his tone almost pleading.

The silence stretched between them, heavy. Finally, she let out a shaky breath. “I’m pregnant,” she whispered.

Izana froze, his eyes widening. He didn’t speak right away, his mind processing the revelation. “You’re... pregnant?”

She nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I found out this morning. I... I didn’t know how to tell you. I was scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Everything.” Her voice cracked as she stood abruptly, pacing the room. “Bringing a child into this life-- our lives. Scared of what kind of parents we’d be. Scared that I’ll fail, that we’ll fail. I even thought about…” She hesitated, her voice faltering. “I thought about not keeping it.”

Izana’s heart clenched at her admission, but he didn’t interrupt. He rose to his feet, stepping closer to her. “Y/n…maybe we can--”

“I’m terrified, Izana!” she cried, her voice rising. “Look at us! Look at the lives we lead. We’re constantly looking over our shoulders! What kind of life is that for a child? What kind of future can we give them?”

Izana reached out, grabbing her arms gently but firmly. “Listen to me,” he said. “I know our world is...terrifying. I know the danger we face every day. But you don’t have to do this alone. I’m here, Y/n. And I swear to you, I will protect you. I will protect our child. No matter what.”

Her knees buckled, and she collapsed into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. “I don’t want to lose you,” she choked out. “I don’t want to lose this baby. But I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do this.”

“You are,” Izana reassured, holding her tightly, his hand cradling the back of her head. “You’re the strongest person I know. And I’ll be with you every step of the way. You’re not alone in this, Y/n. I’ll keep you safe. Both of you.”

Y/n clung to him, her tears soaking into his shirt. In that moment, she allowed herself to believe in his promise, to let his strength carry her fear.

“Izana…” she whispered through her sobs.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “Always.”

The sterile hospital room was eerily quiet save for the rhythmic beeping of monitors and the labored breathing of Y/n. The glow of fluorescent lights cast a pale hue over her sweat-soaked face. Izana stood beside her, his hand gripped hers tightly.

Y/n’s breaths came in short, desperate gasps. Her face was twisted in pain, her strength waning with every passing second. “Izana…” she rasped. “I… I can’t…”

“Don’t say that,” Izana interrupted, his voice trembling despite his effort to sound steady. He leaned closer, brushing damp strands of hair away from her face. “You’re strong, Y/n. You’ve always been strong. You can do this.”

Her tear-filled eyes met his, a flicker of doubt and fear flashing in their depths. She opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by another wave of pain, her body writhing as she gripped his hand with what little strength she had left.

Izana’s heart clenched painfully at the sight of her suffering. He had faced countless enemies, even on the verge of death many times, but this—watching Y/n fight for her life—was a torment he couldn’t endure.

“What the hell is happening here?” Izana demanded.

One of the nurses glanced at him, her expression grave. “She’s losing too much strength..her body is weaker than we had originally assumed. We’re doing everything we can, but…”

“No buts,” Izana snapped, his eyes blazing with desperation. “You will save her. Do you hear me? This is AN ORDER.”

The nurse nodded quickly.

“Izana…” Y/n whispered again, her voice so faint it was almost lost.

He bent down, his forehead resting against hers. “I’m here, Y/n. I’m not going anywhere. Just hold on a little longer. Please.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks as her body trembled, wracked by another agonizing contraction. She squeezed his hand weakly, her fingers barely curling around his. “If… if I don’t make it—”

“Don’t,” Izana cut her off sharply, his eyes locking onto hers. He shook his head in denial, refusing to hear the rest of her words. “You will make it. Don’t you dare give up on me.”

Minutes stretched into an eternity as Y/n struggled through the unbearable pain. Every second felt like a lifetime. Finally, after what felt like endless hours, the room fell silent—only for a brief, agonizing moment. Then, a piercing cry filled the air, the sound of life.

“It’s a boy,” the doctor announced, lifting the tiny, wriggling newborn before carefully handing him off to the nurses for immediate care.

Izana’s breath hitched as he caught a glimpse of his son—a tiny, delicate creature with silver hair and (eye/color) eyes. A wave of emotion crashed over him—pride, awe, and a love so profound it made his chest ache.

But the joy was fleeting.

“Her vitals are dropping!” one of the nurses called out, her voice laced with urgency.

Izana’s head snapped back to Y/n, who lay motionless on the bed, her face ghostly pale. Her breaths were shallow, her chest rising and falling weakly.

“Y/n!” Izana shouted, panic seizing him. He gripped her hand with both of his. “Stay with me. Please, Y/n, don’t do this.”

She opened her eyes one last time, the faintest of smiles tugging at her lips. “Izana… keep your promise, okay?”

Tears blurred his vision as he nodded frantically. “I promise. I swear it, Y/n. Just stay with me. Don’t leave me.”

"I love you. I always do."

"I-I love you too--"

But her hand went limp in his, her eyes fluttering shut as the monitors flatlined. The light in her eyes faded.

“Y/n…” His voice broke, a sob tearing from his chest. He shook her gently, desperately trying to will her back to life. “No. No, no, no, no! Y/n, wake up! Don’t do this to me!”

He cried from the top of his lungs, his scream silencing the nurses and doctor who could only watch him sympathetically.

Izana didn’t move, his head bowed, his tears falling onto her still hand.

He lost her.

The love of his life.

"Mr. Kurokawa..your son.." The nurse, pitying the now single father, started. Izana remained silent, slowly letting go of Y/n's cold hand. He looked up at the nurse who held his son.

"Get out," he seethed at the doctor and nurses, specifically hired by Kakucho themselves. They bowed down and obeyed, exiting the room compliantly, leaving Izana alone.

Izana stood motionless, his gaze locked on the tiny bundle in the bassinet nearby. His son. Y/n’s son.

But he couldn’t move. His legs felt rooted to the spot, his chest tightening with each shallow breath. The baby stirred, letting out a soft cry that broke through the silence.

His son’s (e/c) eyes opened briefly, mirroring Y/n's, but Izana couldn’t handle it. All he saw was her. Y/n’s laugh, her smile, the way her eyes lit up whenever she looked at him. And now, the memory of her last moments—the pain etched into her face, her whispered promises—clawed at his soul.

He stumbled toward the bassinet, until he was close enough to peer down at the baby. A part of him wanted to reach out, to cradle the tiny life that Y/n had left behind, but his hands stayed at his sides, trembling.

Looking at the baby hurt more than anything he had ever endured.

Izana’s heart ached in a way he hadn’t known was possible. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as the despair washed over him.

“How am I supposed to do this?” he whispered, his voice cracking with grief. “How am I supposed to raise you… without her?”

The baby’s tiny cries grew louder, a desperate plea for comfort that Izana couldn’t bring himself to answer.

He sank into the nearby chair, burying his face in his hands. “Y/n… what do I do?”

He had promised her. He had sworn to protect their child. But now, that promise felt like an impossible burden.

His mind raced with thoughts of the future. A future where he would be alone, raising their son without her by his side. The idea was too much to bear, the pain too sharp. The baby wasn’t just a reminder of her love—he was also a reminder of her loss.

Izana’s chest heaved as he forced himself to stand. He walked back to the bassinet, his gaze hardening as he looked down at the baby once more. The tiny boy had quieted, his little fist clenching and unclenching as he drifted in and out of sleep.

He knew what he had to do. It was the only way he could keep his son safe—the only way to honor Y/n’s memory.

Izana straightened, wiping the tears from his face as he steeled himself. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking again. “But I can’t do this without her.”

The night was heavy with rain, thunder rumbled faintly in the distance. A man clad in dark clothing emerged from a black car parked on the empty street, the downpour drenching him in seconds. He moved swiftly, clutching a basket wrapped in layers of waterproof blankets. Inside, a baby lay nestled.

Kakucho’s breath came in short, uneven bursts as he stopped outside the iron gates of a small orphanage. The glow of a single porch light illuminated the modest building.

His scarred face twisted with anguish as he gazed down at the baby in his arms. The child stirred, letting out a soft whimper that nearly broke Kakucho’s resolve. “I’m really sorry, bud,” he whispered. “He… he did what he thought was best for you.”

The words felt hollow, even to him. He knew the truth; Izana hadn’t been able to face the child, hadn’t been able to shoulder the unbearable loss and responsibility. And so, the task had fallen to Kakucho.

With trembling hands, Kakucho crouched down and carefully set the basket on the orphanage steps. He adjusted the blankets one last time, ensuring the baby was shielded from the cold, unrelenting rain. His fingers lingered on the edge of the basket, as though reluctant to let go.

He stood slowly, his boots splashing in the growing puddles as he stepped backward. The baby began to stir again, his soft cries rising into the night. Kakucho froze, his heart clenching painfully.

“Be strong,” he managed out. “You’re going to have a better life. A safer life. That’s all he ever wanted for you.”

But the words offered no comfort—not to him, not to the baby.

The child’s cries grew louder. Kakucho turned away, forcing himself to walk back toward the car. The faint sound of a door creaking open stopped him in his tracks. He glanced back, his heart hammering in his chest.

A middle-aged woman in a warm cardigan appeared in the doorway, her eyes scanning the rain-soaked scene. Her gaze landed on the basket.

“Oh, you poor thing,” she cooed, crouching to lift the baby into her arms. She cradled him gently. “Shh, it’s okay now. I’ve got you.”

Kakucho stood frozen in the shadows, watching as the woman comforted the child. She looked around, her eyes searching the empty street, but the rain obscured her view.

Satisfied that whoever had left the baby was long gone, she smiled sadly and turned back toward the orphanage. “Come on, sweetheart,” she whispered to the baby. “Let’s get you out of this cold.”

As the door closed behind her, Kakucho felt a lump rise in his throat. He knew the child would be safe, cared for in ways that Izana couldn’t provide. But the pain of leaving him, of walking away from the last piece of Y/n’s memory, was saddening

He lingered for a second longer, his scarred face etched with sorrow, before forcing himself to retreat to the car. As he slid into the driver’s seat, he rested his forehead against the steering wheel.

Kakucho whispered one last apology to the empty air, his voice breaking. “I hope you’ll forgive us someday.”

The car’s engine roared to life, and Kakucho drove away..

࿐*ೃ thanks for reading this scenario! not me coming back with angst cuz i can. likes, interaction and reblogs are deeply appreciated ♡

[o-sunny-day]

OKAY SO

I have very strong feelings twords this animation. such strong feelings that i understand i have no other option than to respond through needlessly wordy paragraphs, and horrific reaction images that perfectly encapsulate emotions felt deep within my soul (that this AU, for whatever reason, tears out every single time without mercy.)

Enjoy. (if you want.)

There are 2 moments in this that stood out to me in the reactions department, so I wanna analyze them specifically, before going over some extra smaller things

THIS ONE FIRST.

the lyrics OUUUUUUUGGGHH THE LYRICS.

“To Run Away Is Easy, Its The Leaving Thats Hard.” is such a RAW LINE im obsessed with it, and Wingdings having DOUBT on his face is what gave me such an **AAAAAAA** reaction.

im pretty confident in saying that within the AU, this’d be about how disconnected he has become due to what he knows now. How RUNNING AWAY feels like the only option in surviving this nightmare-scenario he’s found himself in. Your entire reality being proven to just be code within the very machines you’ve based your entire life off of.

But then Wingdings also finds he has doubts about running away from that, due to- yknow- LEAVING HIS LOVED ONES N ALL THAT. Leaving everything behind is easy, but leaving everyONE behind is hard

But- with the doubt being the reason why I had such strong feelings towards this scene in the first place… I HAD NO IDEA WHY WHY I WAS SURPRISED. I never suspected Wingdings to be an over the top movie monster who has no concern for his actions and how they will affect people, if anything id think he’s oblivious to that kind of thing. Willingly ignorant. But for some reason, seeing him have this doubt just made me go “HEEEEEYYYYYYUH”

But I think thats mainly because, Its not something I was waiting for. it surprised me in a way, that I REALLYYYY LIKE it makes me consider a new perspective that I only felt subconsciously, AND I LOVE IT!!!

NEXT PART! THE WORST PART! THE PART THAT MAKES MY STOMACH SINK!

the WINGDINGS. AND SANS. AND ALPHYS. BEING HAPPY.

If this was any other fandom or story, id just be like “ye.” BUT I CARE ABOUT THESE CHARACTERS TOO MUCH TO JUST BLOW THIS OFF LIKE THAT

Just the pure JOY smile that Wingdings has as hes face palming, Alphys’ mannerisms…SANS. Its all just such a human moment with these characters, it feels so natual. ITS BEAUTIFUL. then Wingdings had to fuck it all up >:(

The expressions are so vivid I feel like I can tell what each character is thinking and feeling and it makes my heart break. Again, the PURE JOY SMILE. Wingdings giving genuine smiles like that makes me just

and Sans looking at him makes me think hes just so in the moment hes just so HAPPYYY. THEYRE SO HAPPY.

ONTO SOME SMALLER BUT JUST AS IMPORTANT RANTS:

The part in the song/animation where it goes “Running away is easy…..Running away is easy, its the living thats hard” work SOOO well together ITS LIKE A SYMPHONY OF ANGST

Running away is easy: Wingdings DOING THE RUNNING AWAY and turning into Gaster, (I JUST NOTICED SOMETHING IM FREAKING OUT GOD THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL i love how when Gasters face is revealed, the eyes are smaller like WINGDINGS’, before SPLITTING OPEN AAAAAAA)

Its the living thats hard: Papyrus LIVING WITH WINGDINGS’ MISTAKES!!!

Also not to mention in that part, Papyrus’ gloved hand coming over his ungloved one like Papyrus replacing Wingdings OOOOO????

And now, the last little part I wanna talk about is a bit of a sequel to the Science Gang being happy rant. This song… has so many raw lines- idk why but “loving you was easy”/any other similar sentiment makes me FEEL FEELINGS, they very much hurt. This was made to hurt me personally. This entire AU was made to hurt me personally.

I enjoy that scene radiating a feeling of- Sans was perfectly happy. He wouldnt have had it any other way- but it was torn away from him. NOW HES HAPPY AGAIN OFC!!! But yeah- Wingdings leaving did scar. AUGH I LOVE IT!!! IT HURTS SO MUCH!!! IM HAVING THE TIME OF MY LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!

in conclusion: ☹️

ok I also wanna include this- cause I think this clip perfectly exemplifies the feelings I get when the Forgettable AU updates and why I make so many deep dives as my decent into insanity is recorded through Tumblr blog posts

(Clip from Danny Gonzalez’ Youtube video: The Ratatouille Knockoff From Your Nightmares)

[calimelontea]

the octotrio with an inkling!reader

❥❥am I splicing my current hyperfixation into a completely unrelated fandom bc the fresh season just recently dropped?? Yes. Is it going to be kinda awkward bc this is my very first fic on this page??? Also yes 👍But man is it gonna be fun to write, so I hope you guys will have just as much fun reading!

❥ the reader falls into this twisted wonderland unannounced and unprepared, but much to the student body's surprise, this new transfer student was... A squid? A kid?? It was anyone's guess, but for now it was decided that you would reside in Octainvinelle, seeing as you were a cephalopod of some sort. How do you fair in the ranks of the fish mafia?

Category- Fluff ☀

Content- semi platonic, Azul Jade and Floyd, you are an inkling from Splatoon

Azul Ashengrotto

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

➼When you had first arrived at the dorm's doorstep, he couldn't deny his interest was piqued! Not only was he interested in seeing that squids had evolved their own little subspecies, but he also saw this as the perfect opportunity for profit!

➼A creature that can continuously produce different colored inks?? He's practically seeing dollar signs...

➼No doubt he'll probably ask for a little share of what's in your ink tank, and in return he'll provide you protection and some benefits in the lounge, (albeit some very miniscule ones. Can't lose too much profit, now can we?).

➼But nevertheless, it couldn't be denied that your presence in the lounge had certainly brightened the atmosphere. Now not only can one make shady business deals, but they also get to watch this strange little squid creature run around and obsess over anything it deems "fresh".

➼Eventually though he would begin to warm up to you and see you as a bit more than a walking money bag, especially after the overblot incident. You offered him a helping hand and a friendly smile, even when he was hardly deserving of forgiveness, and he will always be grateful for that (though he will never admit that a loud).

➼He's always sure to keep watch over you, whether it be him in person or the twins, and if someone dares to cause you any trouble... Whew boy, they better hope they can handle a good squeeze.

➼Anytime there's something you want to show him, you'd better believe he's dropping what he's doing to look (within reason ofc), and if you manage to bring him something of extra value, he's sure to praise you and treat you to something from the lounge's menu.

➼Most of your time together is just you dragging him along to look for something fun to do, and although a lot of times he would rather be back at the lounge counting up earnings or advertising new business opportunities, he just can't say no to that face...

➼Overall he'll likely be your safest bet as long as you're willing to sacrifice some ink and maybe your free will 👍

Floyd Leech

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➼When you first arrived, he just thought you were the silliest lil creature! It didn't matter to him if you were human or squid, he just wanted to squeeze you and play with you.

➼And squeeze you he will, you better be watching your back all times of the day bc this man can and will ambush you with the most bone-crushing hug in existence. You don't even have bones and yet you feel the structure of your very being squashed like a water balloon.

➼He takes a liking to you almost immediately out the gate, assigning you the nickname "squidling" since he already nicknamed someone else "squid", and you change colors way too often to assign a colored type of squid.

➼Instead of you dragging him around, now it's his turn to drag you. Will literally snatch you from wherever you are, whether it be your dorm room or even class, and run off to wherever sounds the most fun in the moment. (R.I.P Grim, you're on your own)

➼Literally has 0 idea what you're saying (inklings speak a special kind of language), but will absolutely pretend to know what you mean. Will have an entire full blown conversation with you even if, with context, the conversation doesn't make any sense whatsoever.

➼Likely will go out of his way to get something for you if he believes it's something you'd find "fresh". Mans is gonna come to your dorm with like 20 shiny rocks, some shirts and a thingamabob or two and you're keeping ALL of them.

➼Can and will try to make you swim somehow due to your squid features. It will not go well.

➼You're probably one of the very few people that can pull him out of his bad moods without bribery or blackmail. Legit just start talking to him about anything random and he'll give you one of those legit scary smiles and squeezes onto you like you've just given him the best news of his life.

➼He's a pretty alright option if you don't mind being a caprisun under a hydraulic press. Just... Stay alert.

Jade Leech

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➼Mans is literally scary, why would you pick him???? /j Much like Azul, he's very curious about you when you first arrive in Octainvinelle, but instead of profiting purposes, he more or less wants to study you.

➼He's very curious about what it is that makes you tick. How did squids evolve to produce a specimen like you? Are there more of you? And if so, have your species formed an intricate society? Where does your language originate? Do you have a similar intestinal structure to humans or merfolk???

➼Bro has probably thought about dissecting you at least 40 times and counting, but because it's heavily frowned upon in a school setting, he's decided against poking around in a squid-kid cadaver. For now...

➼Until then though, he ensures he's as hospitable as he possibly can be, while also leaving some room for learning about your unique culture.

➼This means he will likely be one of the very few students to start picking up on your language, as well as understanding your behaviors/mannerisms.

➼It was during these studies of his that you two developed a sort of trade system. You would bring him some wild mushrooms or any plants that look interesting, and in return he will buy you something "fresh" from Sam's shop, with a reasonable price tag ofc.

➼And due to this mutually beneficial system, it didn't take long for the two of you to become good friends. It wouldn't be very often you would see this tall eel man without his tiny squid companion, especially when it comes to his mushroom garden. Congrats, you have entry to the sporehouse 👍

➼This also means you two get to share your special interests with one another. You get to spend time with him creating mini terrariums and growing shrooms, and in return you can teach him how to play turf war (the second he gets the hang of it you will constantly get your ass beat).

➼He's a pretty sound option over time, but you should NEVER be alone with this man with lab equipment. Never trust a man who enjoys clam blitz.