#though to be fair I'm not a BURDEN to the latter

[undefeatednils]

... talking in tags sorry I'm not doing great

[salix-babi]

Still Yours

[ Dan Heng x Reader | SFW | Masterlist | AO3 ]

Synopsis: Dan Heng reunites with the group at Scalegorge and seeks to sooth a tension that's developed between the two of you.

Notes: Had another version of this I wrote to completion then completely scrapped it because I was dissatisfied with the ending. Perfectionism is a burden I must overcome. Writing this just happens to coincide with the return of IL's banner but I'm lowkey hoping it blesses my pulls. I need him. If he comes home, I'll work on a nsfw part 2 so PLEASE. GIVE ME YOUR BLESSINGS.

cw: SFW, some suggestive themes in the latter half, gn!reader, lil angst, plenty of cuddles, reader is a tease, established relationship, reader can be perceived as TB, spoilers for Topclouded Towerthrust Trailblaze Mission.

Word Count: ~2.5k

The two of you hadn’t exchanged a single word since Dan Heng managed to reconnect with the departed expedition team on the Xianzhou Luofu. Not as he parted the oceans. Not as they traversed the ruins of the Scalegorge Waterscape. Not as they fought Phantylia’s vessel of Abundance. Every time his gaze landed on you, you were looking elsewhere. Occupied with murals or enemies that stood in your path. In all fairness, there wasn’t much breathing room with the destruction of the Luofu so close at hand but the absence of your gaze felt… empty. Like he was still apart from you even though you were only a few feet away from him at any given time.

There was only one moment as you traversed through the Scalegorge Waterscape that the two of you were alone. He had caught you by a vidyadhara egg, eyes seemingly transfixed by either its iridescent sheen or the individual within. A back part of his brain recognized these few seconds, however brief, as a window of opportunity to talk. But in the moment, he found his breath caught in his throat and his gaze intent on observing your reactions, instead. He watched your hand rise from your side, a gentle palm placed gingerly against the egg’s scaled outer shell. Your eyes flutter closed as you listened to the echoes of a past life slowly shedding away, expression contorted in a way he couldn’t quite identify. Not from the distance currently held between you. Was it… sadness? Melancholy? Relief? Did you grieve a life’s end or celebrate its rebirth? Or did you see one’s past and future united in a single entity.

“…”

He wanted to speak up then. To acknowledge the silent questions that lingered between you two. To quell his own growing anxieties. However, before he could even gather the words to broach such a topic, your gentle hand pulls away from the egg. Your attention bestowed not upon him, but March 7th calling your name in the distance. Apparently, you had lingered too long and Mr. Yang was advising against getting separated. It made sense. Dan Heng watches as your fingers retract from the egg, the flow of memories fading from your mind as you reconvene the group and once again you’ve wandered out of his reach. He can only follow silently, his gaze lingering on the egg for a fraction of a moment as everyone regroups.

There was a tension between the two of you, of that he was certain the both of you felt. Unknowns left unanswered, lingering uncertainty about where they stood with not a single moment where they could be soothed. He shouldn’t be surprised. In one crashing wave the entirety of the sins he had tried so hard to run from had engulfed him once again, and this time it’s caught his Express companions within it. The only thing he didn’t know was how much of Dan Feng’s crimes you’d really discovered.

It’s not until they were hurriedly leaving the Scalegorge Waterscape with an unconscious Xianzhou general in their arms that he noticed you pause again. As the others tended to Jing Yuan, there you stood at the base of the high elder’s statue, scrutinizing its stone features. Dan Heng, in turn, stared at you. So caught up in trying to decipher your expression that he nearly jumped out of his skin when your gaze turned to him for the first time in what felt like an eternity since his arrival. The vidyadhara stiffens, heart spiking to his throat. You seem equally shocked, but a sudden nervousness darts his eyes away from you in an instant, and he’s back to aiding the others. Somewhere in the commotion Mr. Yang suggests they return to the mainland to get the general proper care and the group moves obligingly, sweeping the two of you back into the residual excitement following Phantylia’s defeat and once again snuffing out any opportunities to talk.

It seems an eternity before you’re finally saying your goodbyes to the Luofu officials for the night. Jing Yuan was in the hands of trusted individuals of the Alchemy Commission and Fu Xuan gives you the barest skeleton of a debrief, the remaining group agreeing a more in-depth discussion can be reserved for the morning once all had at least had a chance to rest properly and the general’s condition has stabilized. Even so, Mr. Yang opts to remain a moment longer with the intention of discussing the nuances of their plan to handle the stellaron, and March had long ago left for her hotel room the moment everyone stepped back on the mainland, the usually peppy girl understandably. You had no doubt she’d be out like a light well into the following morning. However that, in turn, left you and Dan Heng alone to traverse the path back to your hotel. The starskiff ride was silent. The walk from the docks to the hotel, soundless. If you had something to say you weren’t saying it yet, and Dan Heng had no idea where to even begin.

It’s only as you’re reaching for the handle of your own assigned room that you free hand is suddenly snatched in the grip of another. The motion was so tempered in movement but desperate in speed, that it nearly drew a startled sound out of you. You turn to meet Dan Heng’s gaze for the first time since Scalegorge. His eyes are pleading, stirring with questions and uncertainties barely held behind stoic lips. “…” There’s a second of silence before you acquiesce, fingers retreat from your door, and Dan Heng nearly sighs with relief right then and there. Instead, you feel his grip loosen a fraction around your hand. His shoulders lose a bit of their stiffness, but he doesn’t let you go, and you allow him to silently lead you further down the hallway to his assigned room.

The silence between you persists.

Your eyes were trained on the back of his head, on the flow of dark hair down his back, and the teal tips of a set of semi-translucent horns. Idly, you wondered if you could touch them. Would he feel it if you did? Or would your fingers just pass through nothing at all. Even as the battle had ended, Dan Heng remained in this form for reasons yet known to you. You’re brought back from your thoughts to the telltale click of an unlocked door and with a gentle tug of your hand in his, he leads you inside, only letting go once you’ve stepped in to close the door behind you. Your eyes scan the room in the meantime. A standard unit no different from your own on the first night here, though considerably untouched. You wonder if Dan Heng has slept at all since arriving on the Luofu. No doubt he couldn’t walk around openly on the streets without drawing unwanted attention. The thought has a slight frown tugging at the corners of your lips.

There’s a bit of an awkward moment as Dan Heng tries to figure out how to broach the subject, something you recognize as a common habit from the poor man despite looking so different from how you remember him. So, you attempt to bridge the growing gap between you by making the first move. You settle on the edge of the bed, giving your best attempt at a reassuring smile despite the worried tick in your brows, and holding out an inviting hand. You’re grateful when he takes it, stiff as he moves to sit beside you, though you don’t draw attention to how he keeps holding your hand afterwards. “How… much,” he starts tentatively, keeping his eyes on your intertwined fingers rather than you, “did you learn about the previous High Elder?”

A long sigh leaves through your nose as you ponder the question. You wonder if you should relay everything. But looking over at the sullen expression already spread across a face you’re so familiar with, you understand there’s nothing you could say he didn’t already know. “It’s certainly a lot to wrap a head around,” you settle on. He winces anyways, but you press on gently. “A… vidyadhara, right? That’s what you are?” It’s stiff, the way Dan Heng nods in response. “When we first saw you today… you looked so different I almost didn’t recognize you.” Now it’s your turn to look away. “For a bit I thought…” You lean against his side and hug his arm close, “…maybe you weren’t there anymore.” Dan Heng aches with the trepidation in your tone, squeezing your hand tightly.

“…I know.”

“But you’re still Dan Heng, right?”

“I…”

He swallows the building pressure in his throat. “Yes. So long as you’ll have me, I want to be – I am Dan Heng.” He feels you shift beside him and this time, he turns to find you looking back at him with a scrutinizing stare. Eerily reminiscent of the way you had regarded the statue earlier. Nose scrunched and eyes slightly narrow. He’d find it cute under any other circumstance. “Hmm…” Your spine straightens for a better vantage point, slipping your hand from his to poke at his cheek and tug gently at the sleeves of his clothing. “May I…?” you ask, perhaps too politely to Dan Heng’s anxious mind, but he nods all the same and you take his permission to raise yourself higher on the bed and gently settle yourself in his lap. Your legs straddle his on either side like you would any day before this one, and you let yourself look at him – really look at him – for the first time in this new form. Your familiar weight on his thighs is already doing wonders in quelling his nerves a bit. He’s thankful for the firm pressure there to ground him, and without thinking, he’s moved to rest his hands on your waist as he usually would.

Dan Heng holds his breath under your scrutiny. He allows you to explore his more draconic form as you wish, using all his self-restraint to remain still as delicate fingers glide across his features. There’s a visible bob of his throat as digits rise from his neck and follow the curve of his jaw, brushing faintly across his lower lip before moving to press warm palms against his cheek. He wants more than anything to lean into your touch right now, nerves begging to feel more than just the trace of your touch against his lips after being apart for so long. But he’s frozen in place, more fearful that any sudden movements would scare you away. You’ve already been distant from him for far too long both physically and emotionally, and he doesn’t think he can stand you being so far for much longer.

You trace along the red marks lining his eyes, two now instead of the one mark you were used to. Your eyes catch his for a moment, finding piercing teal orbs staring back at you with an inherent intensity. Even unintentionally, his gaze demands your attention, longing and uncertainty swirling behind widened pupils. He was taking you in just as much as you were him, it would seem. So, your fingers continue their journey. Across his features, trailing up from his neck, along his jaw, and past his cheek until ghost-like fingertips reach the auricle of his ear. The quiet breath he sucks in is adorable, even more so the brief flash of teal in your peripheral signifying the movement of his tail. Soft fingers curl around the pointed tip of his ear to massage the cartilage gently between a thumb and forefinger, taking note of how his body stiffens a fraction. However, it’s only when he feels your touch travel upward to trail soft pads along his horns that he fails to hold back a small, shuddering gasp.

“Sensitive…?” you ask as if it were nothing at all and there’s a slight hesitance in the shake of Dan Heng’s head, red beginning to visibly dust his cheeks. “Just… unexpected,” he settles on. He couldn’t figure out what you were thinking. Were you aware of what your touch was doing to him? Did you approve of all these differences in his appearance you were exploring so thoroughly? Or did you find it strange? Distasteful? Briefly, he finds himself regretting not reverting back to his more familiar form the moment they had left Scalegorge. He hadn’t needed to call upon the powers of the Imbibitor Lunae once Phantylia was dealt with, but every time he had glanced your way in this form, you had been looking elsewhere.

“Still mad at me for leaving without a goodbye kiss?” Your voice pulls him back to the present, but it takes Dan Heng a moment to register your words. “W-what?” He blinks owlishly at you, half confused and half dumbfounded by the question. You smile impishly, arms coming to rest around his shoulders. “You always get grumpy when I leave without a kiss. So… are you?” The man frowns. You were teasing him. Dan Heng wants to get in your good graces. But… he couldn’t lie to you. On top of worrying about your wellbeing in the entirety of the week you’ve been apart, he’s also grown accustomed to spending his nights with you. Warm in the archives or out on a mission. He can understand a few days away, but to be without you for a week was… “I’m not mad, I just-…” His eyes flicker off to the ground beside you, hesitating as he finds his footing in his words. “I missed you.” Had he inherited the floppy ears of the Permanence along with those horns, you imagine they’d be sunken flat against the sides of his head with how saddened he looked in this moment. But then you giggle, and he suddenly perks right up in surprise.

“Then you’re still my Dan Heng,” you hum softly and the relief that immediately floods the vidyadhara has him melting into your arms. The chime of another laugh from you makes him question if you had done all of this simply to tease him, wound up as he was. He’d think it cruel but, in the moment, he’s wanted nothing more than to hear those words. “Yes,” he breathes, unthinkingly. Arms wrap tighter around your waist, wanting you closer, and Dan Heng finally gives in to his desires. His head tilts forward, closing what little distance was left to capture you in a kiss. Your lips were so soft, so perfect against his. Warm and gentle, the sensation all the sweeter having been without you for so long. Too long. You reciprocate with ease, a thumb stroking his cheek soothingly while your other hand slides down to rest at the side of his neck and he’s on cloud nine, sacrificing a hand of his own from your waist to reach for the back of your head and pull you closer.

“Yours.”

[fraugwinska]

PrideRing and Prejudice Collaboration

Folks - this is an event long in the making, and I'm so excited it's finally time!!! 💜 The amazing @bapple117 and all the other talented artists on her Discord Server came together, to write/draw/compose Art pieces under the theme: Hazbin Hotel Regency AU

Of course I had to participate - and this is the product! I sincerely hope you'll love it as much as I loved writing it! And please - check out all the other amazing contributions (We have major #RadioStatic pieces!) on our masterlist right here.

Socrates once said 'One word frees us of all the weight and pain in life. That word is Love.'

Maybe that was the reason life, for me, always felt like a burden to bear.

The runt of the litter. Oldest daughter of wealthy, respectable people, and yet... Not as beautiful as my two younger sisters. Not as clever as the youngest. Not as talented as the middle. So parental love, spare thing that it is, was distributed towards the ones with the most prospect, while I, dutifully, smiled, nodded and stayed silent in the shadows of my sisters, living of the rare crumbs that they let fall once in a while.

There was a time, where I thought love was finally within my grasp. When Lord Vincent Voxley – young, handsome, charming, rich - a successful merchant and eligible bachelor had begun to show interest, asking for a dance on one of the many balls my family frequented to have me shown off and – hopefully – off their hands with a hasty and relatively profitable marriage. They were delighted at the prospect of joining families with the Voxleys, and eager to foster what they thought bloomed that moment before it could rot at the stem. For one night, I felt like life could indeed be free of pain, lost in the movement of a dance and a smile that I didn't have to share, that I thought was all mine. But I was foolish, still am, I suppose.

Lord Voxley, although continuing to shower me in luscious gifts, inviting me to strolls and prospecting engagement even, was generous with his smiles. And his attention. Soon enough, I'd meet another lady with a bracelet matching the necklace he gifted me, hear the same charming words spoken to me from his lips to anothers ears. I couldn't bear the thought of mirroring life as it was, only with even more of a broken heart as it wouldn't be my family, but my husband who'd ration his love for me - if there even was something like love - and rejected his offer with a heavy heart.

My parents were angry, disappointed that I had wasted the one opportunity life gave me on finally being wed. My sisters, one already married and glowing and one engaged and radiant, were equally pitying and dismissive. But I had learned to be content with silence and solitude, and thus found myself accepting the lonely fate life had prepared for me.

It was in that moment, when I finally realized that life wasn't kind, and that it never would be, that I met him.

Gossip of my rude rejection spread like wildfire, reaching the ears of Mr. Alastor Hartfelt, who soon after sought out my father and inquired about me. Known around town for his eccentric personality, a solicitor of the law, a lot of the townspeople looked upon him with wary suspicion - even though considered middle class, he had a fair amount of wealth, servants and acquaintances in the upper circles. Frequently consulting Lord Voxley at his trading business had the rumor mill run wild, the nature of the connection between both unmarried men slowly brought into areas of vulgarity. Which had been the point where Alastor had declined further company of the Lord, to the latter's deep chagrin.

And yet, despite the rumors and the gossip and the strange reputation that he held, my father was all too eager to give him my hand in marriage.

The short span of escorted dates was filled with polite, but reserved conversation, and his demeanor was one of an obliging acquaintance rather than a man seeking to know a potential partner. His smiles were fleeting, his thoughts often turned inward, and while he was leading our conversations with an astute mind, I had a feeling his mind was always elsewhere whenever I spoke.

When he proposed, I was taken aback, and he noticed. "I am not one to beat around the bush, dear. We are both well aware of the rumors surrounding my person and yours, and while I do not care much for gossip, you clearly did. Your parents are happy with the union, and while my affections for you might not be as strong as they probably should, my respect is."

My face must've given away the hurt at his words, the sting of a blow to the last bit of pride I had been able to conserve. He had the decency to look contrite, and I saw his hand move as if he wanted to touch mine, but then decided against it.

"I won't force you to accept," he'd told me, the first words he'd said that truly sounded genuine. "I will not demand something from you that you cannot give willingly." He looked at me, with eyes so deep I couldn't help but stare back, trying to decipher the secrets they hid, but only finding a certain sadness in them that I couldn't yet understand, but deeply resonated in me. Familiar, in a way.

"I...," I tried to formulate, my voice breaking as I thought about the future, what the the years would look like that I would spend without someone by my side. Alastor wasn't a cruel man, in contrary. He was honorable and thoughtful, and had been nothing but a gentleman in the time I had known him, treating everyone he encountered, especially women, with utmost decency and respect, including me. Which was the closest to love I had ever gotten to.

"I would be honored."

His eyes softened, and the honest smile he gave me was, for the first time, directed at me and me alone. "That is enough."

So I found myself, dressed in a white gown I had given up ever wearing long ago, a ring on my finger marking me as a wedded woman. The wedding ceremony had been modest and quick, held on Alastor's own estate, which was an outrage in itself. Lord Voxley, invited by my now husband and accompanied by his associate (an italian fellow named Valentino), angrily glared at me from the distance and watched along friends, families and aquaintances as the officiant declared us husband and wife, a tight smile on Alastors face and a wary one on mine.

After the ceremony, he had excused himself for a short amount of time, leaving me with my newfound relatives and the other guests. There was an uncomfortable, almost palpable tension in the room, as all the eyes present were staring at me, wondering and judging the reason why someone like him would settle for a pariah like me, the whispers slowly starting to turn towards the direction of the rumors once more. Even my sisters were joining in the whispers, a betrayal that stung more than I thought, even though I had expected something like this to happen.

It was a short lived comfort when Alastor's housekeeper Niffty, small and bubbly girl that she was, snuck up behind me and took my hand, congratulating me on my wedding and telling me how wonderful and happy the day had been, a smile so sincere it made me wonder if this was the only one present. Her enthusiasm was a welcome reprieve, and her small hands squeezed mine reassuringly before she hurriedly scurried back to help serve the guests... the first one I saw that seemed happy for the union, the first one I saw who had the decency to look happy for the bride.

A cold hand on my arm ripped this happy moment from me, Lord Voxley standing at my side and giving me an icy smile. "I would say congratulations, but I'm not so sure how sincere it would be." His gaze, usually soft and warm, was now piercing and calculating, and I was unable to read his expression. Behind him I could see his escort watching us with a mocking smile, swinging a glass of red wine with long fingers. It looked like blood.

"You don't have to lie," I quietly said to him, trying to hide the tremble in my voice. "There's no need to keep up the charade anymore. It's over now, and we can both move on."

He scoffed, his face contorting into a grimace. "Yes, I suppose that's true. There's no need to entertain a farce, no need for pleasantries." His hand gripped my arm tighter, and his words were venomous. "Well then, since we're honest now, let me make a few things clear: You are just a replacement, a decoy wife to stop the small-town gossip about me and Alastor from spreading and we both know that. I just have no idea why he would demean himself as far as to marry the likes of you."

His grip hurt, and he looked as if he was about to say more, when a tall figure appeared next to him. "Let go of my wife, Vincent. We wouldn't want to spoil her day."

Lord Voxley's face changed from angry and bitter, to a cold, polite smile, and he let go of my arm. "Of course, old friend. It was just a friendly chat."

"Friendship, not unlike love, is earned through patience and respect, and you are sorely lacking in both, dear Vox." Alastor countered, taking my hand and squeezing it reassuringly, a gesture that not only surprised me but made my tense heart flutter.

Voxley grimaced and sneered. "Let's see if her patience will last, when she realizes-"

Alastor stepped between us, his teeth gritted. "This is a warning, and my last kindness, Vincent. Don't test me. Especially not on my wedding day."

It was clear the fight would escalate soon if the situation wasn't diffused, and it was Lord Voxley's Italian business partner that interfered now, placing a firm hand on Voxley's shoulder and grinning mockingly. "Ah, ah, tesoro. Let them have their moment while it lasts."

Both exchanged looks, and finally, Voxley seemed to relent, before his gaze flickered over my new husband and settled on me with pitiful scorn.

"Pardon us," he said with a derisive smile and rolled his shoulders, before he made a short bow. "And warm wishes for a successful, long-lasting marriage." With a condescending smirk at the two of us, he and Valentino went back to the center of attention, where the loud laughs of drunk guests and a lewd melody played in a corner told everyone just how the festivities would turn tonight.

Alastor watched him and his retreat with a grim expression, before turning to face me fully.

"I apologize for this unpleasant scene, I'm afraid our dear lord has too much of an ego for the good of anyone involved." His eyes wandered to the place the cold hand had pinned me. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

I shook my head, and was surprised to find that my hand hadn't left his, still softly pressed against his side. The comforting heat his body radiated warmed me up faster than any fireplace could, and I knew, despite the difficult past weeks and the uneasiness that still permeated the celebration, that this had been the right decision, and the only one possible.

"Let us take a little walk, a little air and quiet will do us both some good. I want to show you something."

Hand in hand, he led the way along the aisles of the dining hall, bowing his head in polite acknowledgment towards the guests we passed before walking outside, towards a dark part of his property.

The gardens were a sight to behold, with the sun slowly settling behind lush, green, yellow and red tree tops, a cool autumn breeze blowing and the leaves around us rustling. While we walked, Alastor remained silent, lost in his thoughts once more, and I kept watching him carefully, while his gaze rested firmly at the ground he walked, avoiding my curious eyes and staring down intently, seemingly busy searching for something among the darkening floor.

I, in turn, felt nervous in the silence of the walk, unsure how to proceed, how to thank him for the small moment of kindness after the sharp, cutting words of Voxley. The singular moment I really felt seen, as if I mattered.

He led me deeper and deeper, between tall, beautiful flowers and pruned shrubbery, until we reached a secluded grove, the evening sky glowing gently through the leaves of an apple tree, the apples at its limbs not quite ripe yet, but there was a pleasant smell of fall lingering, and a faint bubbling sound. A spring, almost hidden to any unaware visitor by the small clearing, sprouted from an elevated layer of earth and rocks above and merrily splattered down into a small, narrow stream. The air was cooler here, fresh and clear, and the peacefulness of the area seemed a far cry from the celebratory noise of the party.

"I find solace in nature. And when I can, I come here, sit and contemplate the world in my moments of frustration."

My eyes wandered through the calm of the spot, until it reached my husbands figure, tall and stiff, the dying evening sun casting shadows in his face that made him look even more tired, more worn than he should have looked. It dawned on me then, that even for a moment, his mind was also riddled by things not entirely his making, thoughts and worries I couldn't understand.

He sighed. "When my mother passed away, the last thing she said to me was to 'find a woman whose character was in the smallest possible degree founded on rational principle', before she was laid in her final resting place."

He smiled, wry and empty. "And when I became acquainted with you, a woman that seemed to understand the situation I'm in and didn't demand for my affections, one of those 'rational principles' as my mother put it, I finally felt...relieved, in a way."

I swallowed around the lump that formed in my throat at his confession, my eyes feeling hot, suddenly overwhelmed at the knowledge of the affection my new spouse felt towards me, in a way, but not knowing whether I should feel joy or ache over the circumstances.

"I may not love you like a husband should today or tomorrow," His words echoed through the brook, clear as the water of the little stream, and his fingers, cold on my hand, lifted mine gently to his lips, "and you might feel the same way about me." His face turned slightly, and the smile he gave me was one of sympathy, and maybe a bit of shared loneliness. "But every river has to start with a spring."

But as he kissed my hand in a gesture so tender I hadn't believed him to possess, and my heart started beating faster, I was able to look in his eyes for the first time, and something that might resemble trust, warmth and a feeling close to comfort blossomed deep inside my chest, feeling as if my hand was a little lighter when he let it go.

[kazehita]

what’s isat about/what kind of game is it? looks interesting :0

hi anon!! YOU ASKED FOR IT!

"Live with the ever-present burden of being trapped in a time loop only you can know about in this turn-based RPG. Create a better future for you and your friends. Find hope where there is none left. Pray to the stars and free yourself from time.

-- In Stars and Time's steam page

In Stars and Time is a FANTASTIC role-playing-game created by a solo indie developer. It centralizes around an absolute delight of a character and their efforts to escape a timeloop! But truly, it's contents are even more awesome than it's premise. This game has a similar feeling to Undertale or Omori, but is very distinct !!! In my opinion it's more intense than the former, but much easier to play than the latter (Omori's themes made the game too intense and visceral for me to finish, personally).

My favorite thing about ISAT is it's characters and story, with the would-building as a close 3rd! I have to be careful not to reveal too much, because it's really so charming to experience first-hand. ANOTHER favorite thing about ISAT is it's art direction! Don't be fooled by it's b/w style, it is chock full of attention to detail and delightful visual work. Ok though, I actually lied! My ABSOLUTE FAVORITE thing about ISAT is it's Storytelling through gameplay - you have to take a fair share of initiative to really dig into it all! The game doesn't really sit down and try to tell you everything in a writer-to-a-reader way; instead the world and characters feel like they're living and breathing and communicating and experiencing! And so, subsequently, you the player experience the world very naturally as well!

In addition to this, the tone and energy of the writing is something I found very unique! It is so worth giving it a go! Lastly, copying over something I've said before: I actually didn't realize the cast was LGBTQ+ before I started playing, so that was a fantastic surprise. This game is angled to talk about the queer experience while being interwoven with the themes and setting - and it was a great experience for me to see, in particular, aro and/or ace characters portrayed excellently - both thematically and realistically!!! (And i do mean this. To write the queerness into the themes/worldbulding is, really really cool!)

I'm currently working through my second playthrough of it! I'm trying to catch the few things I missed. In general the playtime of this game can vary greatly! Some places say it's got a 8-10 hour runtime, but some real goobers out there can clock 40 hours or more (because they are insane. I say this with an awed voice not a judgemental one).

I'm not actually sure how long my playthrough took! It's the price i pay for leaving the game running in the background....

[thatgirlwithasquid]

I got tagged by @hg-deranged-edition (ty <3)

20 Questions for Fic Writers (& Artists)

1. How many works do you have on ao3(Tumblr)?

41 on AO3, but I think I have another 2 one-shots on Tumblr that I never got round to cross-posting

2. What's your total ao3 (Tumblr) word count?

253,123 which... wow ok neat

3. What fandoms do you write for?

A lot lmao. I organised my google drive a few months back and I have a lot of folders now hahaha. A quick count says I've started something for 24 fandoms, good lord.

The ones I've actually posted for are Stranger Things, Harry Potter, Andi Mack, Detroit: Become Human, Arcane, Encanto, The Host, and Little Nightmares

4.What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Playing Pretend : 2,204 kudos

Severus Snape and the Burden of Responsibility : 694 kudos

Thirium Pooling in His Chest (Bleeding Different, Feeling the Same) : 511 kudos

Communication and Cuddles : 440 kudos

Not Quite Less Than Romantic : 396 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I used to make a point to respond to every comment, but I fell out of the habit. It's something I really want to get back into doing, because I really appreciate receiving them <3

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Either I've Been There For A While or Severus Snape and the Burden of Responsibility (I got a fair few distraught comments on the latter lol)

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Playing Pretend, probably. That one's just a lot of cutesy friends to lovers that I wrote in a state of sheer obsession when Encanto first came out. Or maybe To Cherish and be Cherished which is just 400 ish words of fluff

8. Do you get hate on any fics (Art)?

I've been lucky enough that people engaging with my writing have been overall really kind. I have had like 2 slightly rude comments, but I don't think that was intentional :)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I have! It was a challenge cause my ace brain doesn't like working that way, but I wrote a voyeurism/exhibitionism Jonathan x Jason fic. I actually feel quite happy with it.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I haven't posted any, but I do have an abandoned wip in my drafts, if that counts?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but if anyone wanted to translate my stuff I'd be perfectly happy with that.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but I am open to the idea of that. If anyone wants to co-write a fic feel free to reach out :)

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Cunningway!! At this point I think everyone knows lmao. I feel like I bring them up a lot, even though I am trying to not be obnoxious about them. I just love them a lot!

15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Uh, is saying 'all of them' cheating? There are so many wips in my google drive that, realistically, I'm never going to go back to. But if I had to pick one... maybe the this untitled Thomally fic I was writing?

16. What are your writing strengths?

lmao fuck if I know. Coming up with ideas, maybe? Everything else is a bit of a struggle.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Sustaining my ability to focus. I also feel like I struggle with balancing speech and description.

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Idk. I've done it before in Playing Pretend to match how the characters speak in the film, but I can only speak English so... I gave it a go? I don't mind reading dialogue in other languages in fic, if I need I just have google translate open to understand what's being said.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Depends how we're looking at it. Technically WWE when I was like 7 but idk if I'd count that. The first time I wrote fanfic and was aware that was what it was would've been Andi Mack, but the first fandom I wrote for on AO3 was Little Nightmares.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

I feel like I'm most content with the writing in Thirium Pooling in His Chest (Bleeding Different, Feeling the Same) but I am probably proudest in myself for Ceramic Hearts because that fic was a real labour of love.

tagging: @half-oz-eddie @brightside-of-the-upsidedown @bigdumbbambieyes (no pressure!! hope you guys don't mind being tagged. I was really blanking on this aha)

[nonbinaryhatboxghost]

8:00am. I successfully socialized for a while last night. Had some good Korean BBQ, caught up with some folks I haven't seen in a month or so, then I went home.

I'm going to try and write a longer entry here because I've been doing these brief scattershot posts that almost certainly don't convey a positive mental state. Which, to be fair, is accurate.

I'm not at my best lately. I've had difficulty finding energy for things outside of work because my new position (I've been in this position for almost three months and yet it still feels new) takes a lot out of me. I'm dealing with constant questions/clarifications from co-workers on a specific project that I was assigned to be the new expert on, I'm dealing with more consistent interactions with upper management, I'm staring at multiple computer monitors for hours every day (I have blue light glasses, so that helps a little), and while I'm no longer isolated in a screening room for 8 hours a day, I'm still working in a windowless room.

I have a retail therapy problem. I've definitely already talked about this, but I love physical media. I've been collecting CDs since I was in elementary school, DVDs and Blu-rays for almost as long, and lockdown finally made me cave and start collecting vinyl. And the thing about physical media, particularly vinyl these days, is that there is always a new thing to acquire that's only going to be available "for a limited time." So my already collecting-happy self goes into overdrive trying to acquire whatever new shiny disc relevant to my interests is about to be released. Today it was pre-ordering the Best Buy 4K SteelBook release of (the incredible) Prey and the mail-order exclusive "They Live" Blue with White Splatter variant of John Carpenter and co.'s upcoming album Anthology II (Movie Themes 1976-1988).

Now, do I genuinely want and enjoy these things? Hell yes. I was floored by how good Prey was, and I am still shocked that Disney has decided to start releasing some of their streaming titles on physical media. I am also a huge fan of John Carpenter, and own almost all of his music in one form or another.

But these are also not solutions to my current, to be honest almost-always-present problem: I feel isolated.

I have full brain servings of depression and anxiety. I became aware of the former maybe a decade ago, and discovered the latter was a bigger problem than I thought after I had my first(?) panic attack at work a few years ago. I've been in therapy since 2016, I've taken meds since 2018. I am doing better than I was, but despite all of the progress that I logically know that I've made, I feel stuck.

I've tried asking for help outside of therapy, but part of the problem is that despite being someone who wants/needs more attention and affection from folks, I have an instinct to isolate myself in order to not burden others with my problems. I've been fighting that instinct to mixed success. I suspect that I've isolated myself in this regard for so long that now a lot of folks don't really think of or invite me to hang because they're possibly under the impression that I don't want to interact with them. Or maybe it's the standard people growing apart thing. Or (and here is what the depression monster tells me) they find me boring/depressing/annoying/pathetic/etc.

Another thing is that I'm newly polyamorous. I'm currently seeing one person, who has needed to take some time for themself for a variety of reasons. I understand and respect that, even though I wish I could do something to help outside of leaving them alone for the time being. I also miss them. Part of the point of polyamory is not putting all of one's emotional eggs into one basket, and I'm always open to new connections. But with how I'm doing lately, I'm getting trapped in this vicious cycle of wanting to connect with someone because I want connection/attention/affection, then feeling guilty for wanting that and worrying that I only want connection/attention/affection as a distraction from how not well I'm doing, then my brain tells me that I shouldn't be with anyone until I've sorted all of my own stuff out and around and around it goes.

I'm a person, I have problems, and I don't want to put all those problems on another person. I once said to current partner that "my loneliness is not your responsibility." I still feel that way. But I also can't find a consistent solution or solutions to this loneliness.

I'm a very simple nerd. I like hanging out and chatting with folks, and I'm not opposed to going out and doing activities. But I don't really do things like bar-hopping or going to nightclubs. I'm very shy and don't really know what social space I'd be most comfortable in. Dating apps make me uncomfortable, and years ago when I was actively using them I had nothing but bad experiences. There's a local arcade bar that I go to for karaoke sometimes, which has been nice, but not really a space for making new friends.

I just don't know how to initiate hangs outside of movie nights. And despite watching movies with folks sincerely being one of my love languages, I know that can't be the only way I spend time with people. I'm open to new stuff, I just need help with the new stuff.

I'm looking into taking piano lessons for the first time since I was in 4th grade. I left the chorus I was part of a while ago, so I would like a new consistent music-related thing/structure in my life.

I have a close friend visiting next month and I'm really looking forward to seeing them.

I know that at some point next year I'll be traveling to wherever The Kingcast is hosting their next big event, and possibly with another friend who has recently gotten into King (and who has rapidly overtaken me in the number of King books they've read).

I'm hopefully remote-hanging with someone this week that I haven't gotten to hang with in a while.

And yeah, I have a 4K disc arriving in the mail today (The Nightmare Before Christmas).

I'm trying. I just wish I was getting better faster.

[ladyintree]

@sourfilm sent shelter protect them.

taissa's eyes haven't stopped wandering since she arrived;   every corner of this apartment is painted with van's personality,    parts of which she remembers so clearly,   other parts slightly different than she remembers.    the latter is a harsh reminder of the time they've lost in between,   decades of taissa compartmentalizing her first love and everything that came with it,   the trauma of the woods and the mysteries in her sleep,   all so infectious of the love that was so beautiful,   yet soured by what they were forced to endure,   no matter how they managed to come out on the other side.   it's comfortable here,   knowing van has found a place for herself,   enough to make taissa look at her own life and consider just how well-crafted her own image was.    this looked like van,   but looking around her own home,   no one could really tell who taissa was,   and she preferred it that way.   it makes her wonder what's hiding behind the surface here,   if van is even different now than tai's come to assume.

as she sits on the couch next to van,   eyes finally dry from the blow up they finally came down from,   somehow,   she feels too close and too far away all at once.   van's words repeat in her mind the way they used to when she was younger;   taissa was always so good at shutting down the fight,   convincing both of them that they were fine and they could move on,   but they're older now,   van isn't afraid to call her on her shit,    and taissa's once again reminded that burdening van with her own problems was never fair for her to do.    she shouldn't be here,   and yet,  selfishly,    she wouldn't want to be anywhere else,    too comfortable with the reminder of how van's presence used to make it so easy to pretend she may sleep through the night ---  even though that was rarely ever true.   at least van understood,   and maybe that's all taissa really needed now  ---   someone who saw her,   the person she worked so hard to hide,    but the person van always saw right through anyway.

this is the part where she should say she's sorry, but it doesn't come out, somewhere caught in her throat, because what is she sorry for? the list doesn't end. ❝  thank you--- for letting me stay for the night. i don't have a fucking clue about how i'm getting home, ❞ she admits, an empty laugh falling from her lips as she brings her hand up, rubbing her forehead, trying to recall where she left her assistant's car to begin with ( a blurred memory that she can hardly make out at all. ) ❝  your place always this quiet? ❞ she's prying, but she tries to play it off, brush off the awkwardness from earlier and attempt to move forward.

[onlyarogue]

Rogue was so often looked at. Not that the southern girl was particularly vain about it, but she was aware that, according to convention, she was pretty. People looked at her. They did not see her. But trapped so close in the Danger Room’s conjured rubble with Erik, breathing in each other’s air, Rogue was unable to escape the piercing gaze that perceived instead of merely looking. When she thought about her powers, Rogue thought only of the pain it caused and the burden it placed heavily on her shoulders. Others in her life had considered her abilities a means to an end or an obstacle to help her overcome. 

Erik was practically writing poetry over them.

 He was a man so feared by the world, and yet Rogue felt entirely safe in his presence. Felt that he would not let anything harm her while he was around. Not that Rogue was exactly a damsel needing rescuing, ever, but the sensation was there all the same. In this closed chamber, he was not the dangerous one. Yet, Erik was the picture of calm. Perfectly level and solid and the southern girl doubted it was wholly because of the magnetic field that kept her powers from affecting him. Especially if he was going to say that he wished they did the opposite! Rogue gave the faintest shake of her head, not wanting to make large movements with how close they were together. “You don’t want that. I promise.” And even though it did not need saying, she added anyway in a voice soft and vulnerable as if the words were something else entirely - “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Rogue swallowed nervously, gaze tracking Erik’s hand as it moved from the wall to clasp her own and force it from her side.Her breath stopped as his lips brushed across her bare knuckles, so gentle that Rogue could have convinced herself she imagined it had she not been staring.The skin on skin contact so often denied to her sent electricity down her spine. Perhaps it was merely a side-effect as her own powers tried to absorb Magneto. Tried to leech any enjoyment from this moment and it did with anyone else. And failed even as he kissed her hand again. 

But then perhaps electricity was caused by something else entirely. An idea that seemed confirmed as Erik spoke, his touch never abandoning her. Her breathing started again, though it shook as Rogue tried to find the words to even begin to reply to such a statement. Calling her light as if she was anything special. Rogue was a fighter, and a good one, but she was never going to be a leader or the face of a movement. Especially not with how she was raised. Not when others viewed her as a cautionary tale against mutants or something to be pitied. She too often agreed with the latter. Erik knew what it was to be at odds with the X-Men. Perhaps even knew what it was to be used as Rogue had in her youth. Shared experience and Magneto's uncanny perception meant that he could guess the heart of Rogue’s fears even without her confessing. 

It then hit her that what he’d said, WAS in fact a question. One that deserved an answer. “Maybe my powers aren’t evil anymore. Maybe I’m not evil anymore…but I’m not safe either.” Slowly, her hand moved to his cheek, hesitating just a moment before touching for him to give silent consent. He was warm under her palm. “ I don’t know how to be. If I ever can be. You have such control over your power Erik. I have...” To say none was not entirely true, but any progress she has made since joining the X-Men came as a result of hard work and was nearly imperceptible. 

"It's easy to say don't fear yourself when you can have that control. Even now with me touchin' you, the control is all yours." Perhaps it wasn't fair of her to say, but it was the most honest she could be. "I'm doin' what I can the only way I know how."

A caged bird, wings clipped by the proximity of the one mutant she can touch.

Trapped in a claustrophobic crucible, the world compresses around them, a tightening fist squeezing out the air. Walls morph into granite jaws, gnashing shut any hope of escape. Magneto gives a soft groan when more concrete presses into his back.

Erik steadies himself with a stance that allows himself to cover her from the encroaching walls and overbearing rubble. His steel gaze takes in the form of her southern grit, how she was so very untouched by this terror of small space that the Danger Room procured.

This is a test, a twisted game, and she will not be a pawn.

"You believe yourself to be such a danger, and yet, I see a commendable display of bravery and strength. You should not fear yourself-- a prism that takes the light and shares it brighter, who can have a taste of all mother nature created."

And the master of magnetism was settled in relief and self-satisfaction that it was so because she was safe with him. His touch ghosted over her-- the instinct of reaching out and scaring her away warred in his mind. He could sense the thrumming of her blood in her pulse. Rogue, a defiant sunflower trapped in a tightening vine, held her gaze steady even as her heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs.

"Perhaps, I wished your powers would work on me so you could see what I do."

Erik felt her breath against his neck, smell the scent of her hair, feel a thrumming of her body. The sensation of the magnetic field, a familiar hum against her skin, was a curious comfort in this bizarre act. The walls had stopped their relentless advance, leaving them trapped, but strangely suspended in a charged, if uncomfortable, equilibrium.

Magneto let one hand drop from her side, to instead find her hand that braces her side viciously as she crams herself away from him. He raises her hand gently to his face and places a kiss to her knuckles with a sardonic smirk upon his lips.

He feared powerlessness. She feared the powerlessness of others at her expense.

Then he moves to kiss her palm. Erik did not fear touching her-- with or without her powers working on him. He could feel the electric tang every time he made contact to her skin, her powers attempting to draw from his endless well. And he would let her drink her fill.

"You have been taught to do evil-- so you fear that the evil nature never left your powers. No more. Why enclose yourself? Why draw yourself into your tiny spaces when you could reach out your rays to let those around you receive your light? They shine so much brighter when you are around..."

-- @onlyarogue ||

[wildberryautumn]

Live thoughts while watching Dracula Das Musical Part II

(first of all i'm sorry that this has taken more than a year to complete, i have no excuse other than i'm gay)

-Lucy’s spooky “la-la’s” omg (no don’t kill the children you’re too sexy uwu)

-oh no she sounds like a dying cat :/

-hearing the men of the scooby doo gang all sing together does something to me hmmm

-at first I thought “oh good we didn’t see poor Lucy’s death on stage” but then ON HO THERE’S HER HEAD WHY >:(

-Dracula, gatekeep gaslight girlboss ^^ (Borchert’s voice is so pleasant to hear, especially when he’s speaking calmly like this – I couldn’t stay mad o.o)

-Dracula is depicted as such a /cool/ guy here; I, too, would roll around the floor for him (he’s watching Mina do this as she sings – what does musical logic say is really happening??)

-oh shit there’s Val Helsing?? How long has he been there that’s so embarassing D:

-did Dracula crush Renfield’s face? :0

-you upset Van Helsing >:(

-I was confused at first when Jonathan came in right after Mina’s "If I Could Fly/War ich der Wind" song, but Dracula came and knocked him unconscious? I wonder why they chose to have Jonathan on stage during this scene (yes I am thinking about a Dracula/Jonathan relationship!! “Were he not your husband he would be a dead man” ok but why did you feel the need to explain yourself? And what does that even mean – you care about Mina so much you don’t kill her husband? Sounds pretty gay suspicious to me...)

-nothing says seduction like screaming how many people you’ve killed to your crush 😊(I jest I f**cking love “Mina’s Seduction/Die Verfuhrung” ok)

-Mina singing about loving Dracula while checking on her husband? Hmmm (internal screams)

-JONATHAN WOKE UP

-omg Dracula bit Mina right in front of Jonathan!! :0

-ALRIGHT TIME FOR THE COOLEST ACTION SONG IN A MUSICAL

-wait how did Zu Ende end – all I saw was the wall close?? How did Dracula escape?? I'm so confused

-Uwe Kroger >< he fits the role of Van Helsing so well idk he’s just...so good and OH HE’S SO HOT IN GLASSES

-I wish there were more moments to show off Mina’s intellect

-oh no Van Helsing don’t cry you’re so sexy :’( (This is so sweet though, I love the layers this small moment adds to his and Mina’s relationship...Although these men use Mina as a means to work through their feelings from their past relationships which isn’t fair to Mina, who is her own person. I guess Jonathan and Lucy love Mina for Mina...I wish these characters were gay developed more)

-I never understood the context for “Before the Summer Ends/Frost an einem Sommertag” and it’s actually SO SAD...my love for Jonathan has increased tenfold

-my second favorite song is “All Is Dark/Die Zugsenquenz” and I know it’s mostly a reprise, but I enjoy Dracula being emotionally connected and thus vulnerable with Mina!! (are we supposed to believe that the scooby doo gang heard all of that, and that it was only one half of a conversation? If I were them I'd be so confused lmao)

-I think it’s funny when an immortal creature has an existential crisis – and I’m noticing it’s only those who were once mortal that experience this. Is it saying that people – writers/creators – assume it would be horrible to live forever, or at least at some point become a burden? It also seems ridiculous to me that someone like Dracula would get tired of existing when it’s only been a few centuries, and not thousands of years like in Dracula 2000 or Queen of the Damned. (In the latter, Akasha is the only vampire I can think of who is thousands of years old and not sad about still existing, and even wants more life – then again, she was in a frozen state for a while, so I wonder if this cancels out a few millennia?). Or, is this what people think must cross immortal beings’ minds because none of us can actually know what it’s like to live that long? Just fun to think about...

-why would Dracula go to sleep in his coffin at night?

-oh it was a trap that makes sense

-love the way Mina turns sl*tty whenever she’s in the presence of Dracula, and he acts like a supportive husband OMG IS HE HUSBAND MATERIAL? IS THAT WHAT I’M SENSING?

-yes Borchert’s Dracula is a total DILF and I support this

-that ending felt...suggestive? Like the way Jonathan and Van Helsing “walked in on” Mina and Dracula – it felt like they were interrupting an intimate moment. Not sure if this was intentional or not, plus it felt like it could be accusatory too, like they "caught" Mina. I wonder what these men are thinking, that Mina outwitted Dracula? hmmm

-yaythey included the curtain call ^^

-overall I enjoyed it! my favorite casting was definitely Van Helsing & Dracula

[fromthefishbowl]

To be fair about your Nicky post, relative to standards for grooming and education in the Islamic Caliphates were much much higher than what we now call Italy. Like sorry, but your boi though I love him was uneducated (not necessarily unintelligent) and dirty (baths? regularly? it's less likely than you think). I'm not saying this because I think people should hate on Nicky, but if you can't acknowledge the flaws of a character you can't appreciate them deeply

Yeah... absolutely not.

In this fandom there seems to be a huge lack of reading comprehension skills and an even worse understanding of history, especially when it regards Nicky’s. You’d think that all of this is only a Google search away, but apparently even that is asking too much.

I’m going to put this in the fandom tag solely for educational purposes, so I’m going to try to include as much information as possible, even if I doubt that the people who like this idea of Nicky being a feral, unwashed, illiterate mess will be able to remember anything of what is going to follow.

Dirty:

Genoa was one of the main producers of soap in Europe, during the Middle Ages.

And, for fuck’s sake, people weren’t dirty! They washed themselves, they washed their clothes!

If they didn’t have the strength to go to the well every night and heat up enough water for a bath, they would put some clean water in a basin and wash themselves with a cloth. People would wash their faces and hands before eating each meal. If they had guests, the first thing they would do was offer them a warm bath.

The idea that people in the Middle Ages didn’t wash ever comes from later on, in the Renaissance and was then consolidated in that wonderful period of time that came before the French Revolution, with Hollywood that later on fucked it up for all of us that like historically accurate stories.

UNEDUCATED:

Nicky was canonically a priest. Even if the Middle Ages saw a horrible decay of education level after the heights reached during the Roman Empire, priests were still in charge of keeping people somewhat educated, to the point that small schools were founded right beside the churches, so that priests could easily go from one place to the other.

Men who wanted to go into priesthood would go through classes of Latin, Math, reading and writing, and basic knowledge of Christian writers and sacred texts, as otherwise they would’ve been completely useless and would’ve been nothing but a burden for the others.

Although the classes weren’t particularly advanced, they were still structured in a way that allowed the boys who had begun studying at seven/eight to become priests to, once they turned eighteen and finished their education, choose other careers.

In 825, two whole centuries before Nicky’s birth, King Lothair built a system of schools throughout the entire peninsula, schools that would teach today’s STEMs as well as liberal arts.

If this wasn’t enough, there is a huge possibility that Nicky came from a rich family, as it was custom to send the second born son (and all the ones that came after him) into priesthood so that they wouldn’t be threats to the life and interests of the firstborn. Rich families raised said second born sons to be perfect priests, academics who could excel both within the church and in the family affairs in case the firstborn died.

Nicky most definitely knew how to read, write, do sums, would be able to speak at least three languages (Genoese, Latin, and Greek, with the latter two learned solely because he was a priest), and had a wide knowledge of the Bible and other texts in the latter two languages. Considering that he probably lived in a monastery too, his knowledge extended to agriculture too, as monasteries were self-sufficient.

The fact that you had absolutely no idea of any of this makes Middle Ages Nicky far more educated than you, and the fact that then you tried to school me on it without knowing what the hell you were talking about makes it even worse.

Stop trying to learn history through Tik Toks and this hellhole of a platform: the internet can offer you a thousand more legitimate websites that won’t make you look like an idiot.

[disapoitment]

Am I about to overanalyse another throwaway gag? Absolutely! This time it's from the classic season one episode, Napoleon Brainaparte.

So, towards the very end of this episode, our poor, beloved mice are about to meet their tragic end. They're threateningly informed that an afterlife awaits them, and as they cower in what they believe to be their final moments, the viewers are given a glimpse into their heads...specifically, what they each imagine heaven to be like. This scene surprised me on my first watch, because it was pretty unexpected. And surprisingly...sweet?

Let's start off with Brain's idea of heaven, which is shown first.

Right off the bat we have him surrounded by a chorus of Pinky angels. This is one of the rebuttals I have for people who doubt Brain cares about Pinky...I mean, if I didn't like someone, I definitely wouldn't include them in my idealised afterlife, nevermind multiple versions of them!

Uh, I digress. The thing I actually want to draw attention to here is the fact that Brain actively desires Pinky in his life (or, afterlife, in this case) and can't imagine existing, in any form, without him. We've seen it time and time again, from the episode "Snowball" to that one story from the comics, but this is one of the earliest, most apparent instances of it in the show. This scene alone proves to the audience that Brain isn't using Pinky to reach his goals, but genuinely sees him as a friend and a companion. And maybe there's an unhealthy splash of codependancy in there.

To take this a step further, an afterlife is commonly portrayed as a sort of perfect world; a place of eternal happiness, even. It's safe to assume from this daydream that Brain subconsciously associates Pinky with the same joy and contentment associated with heaven. We can even interpret this scene as Brain viewing Pinky as an angel, which is not only heart-wrenchingly sweet, but makes a fair bit of sense, all things considered.

After all, though Brain himself tends to shy away from explicit displays of emotions and empathy, he's been established to admire these traits in others. In "TV or not TV", he claims to find Princess Diana (who was well-known for her activism) attractive, and he repeatedly praises Pinky's kind nature throughout the series, even when it directly interferes with a plan. He even sabotages his own plots when Pinky objects for moral reasons, eg "Inherit The Wheeze", and then there's the iconic instance of him DESTROYING his own machinery after tearing up over Pinky's Christmas letter. I believe this is why Pinky is an angel in Brain's eyes: he's compassionate, he's pure-hearted, and he's innocent. Well, innocent in the sense of intention, at least. Pinky represents all the things Brain is too afraid to be himself, lest morality get in the way of his goals.

On top of that, Pinky always stays by Brain's side. He's the only person/mouse who has never left him, hurt him, or betrayed him. It's natural that someone so lonely, cynical and self-loathing as Brain would view his polar opposite as a literal angel...or, even more impactfully, a full chorus of them. Of course Brain's idealised heaven has himself as an angel too, but I'd say that's either his ego coming into play (he's both self-hating and conceited) or just to serve as a visual signifier that he's...um, dead. The flock of Pinky angels is what I'm focusing on here, because the sheer amount of them in comparison to Brain highlights them in this miniature megalomaniac's reverie. And also because it's more interesting to take the analysis in this direction! ♡

Honestly, there's not quite as much I can say about this segment of the scene. Brain is on a throne, so presumably he's imagining himself ruling...heaven? Good for you, Brain!

It's very in-character for Brain to put himself as the centrepiece of his ideal afterlife, and as much as I love this little guy, the angel imagery is obviously ironic. Whether intentional or not, this can be connected to his egotism, as well as his belief that everything he does, no matter how severe or morally corrupt, can be justified by the end goal of ruling Earth and making it a better place. I don't believe that Brain genuinely sees himself as an angel when it comes to his purity, but rather that he thinks all his sins can be forgiven if/when he becomes the "benevolent dictator" (his words, not mine) of the planet...or maybe that's just what he tells himself to be able to sleep at night.

He looks noticeably very content and calm as an angel. I would go off on a tangent about how this is a version of Brain who is finally freed from the burden of his never-ending cycle of failure, and that this suggests that he needs to break out of his world domination obsession to ever be truly happy, but...I'll spare you.

Oh, Pinky. Poor, poor Pinky. He's so selfless that it stings :(

It says a painful amount that in his idea of heaven...he's not even in it. I don't think he hates himself, yet he's so good-natured that he ends up neglecting his own desires for the sake of others. In this scene, he has literally forgotten to include himself in his own idealised world. I hate to say this, but this could be a result of his codependent relationship with Brain. He's so focused on Brain's happiness and goals that his life almost revolves around him at this point, and as I mentioned before, they fall apart without eachother. Pinky pours his heart and soul into helping Brain, partly because he genuinely believes Brain will make the world a better place, and partly because he'd do almost anything for Brain's sake. His love for Brain is so strong that he's the focus of Pinky's own paradise.

What I find significant is Brain taking the role of every single angel in the fantasy. He's portrayed as a sweet and wholesome creature wearing a cute smile, a stark contrast to reality. Even just him being an angel in the first place implies that this is how Pinky sees him. A big part of the latter's motivation to help Brain take over the world, though scarcely mentioned in the show itself, is so it can become a happier, nicer place for everyone. As a determined optimist, Pinky shares the desire to improve the Earth, and so views Brain as a sort of hero, someone surely worthy of a halo and wings.

His view of Brain as a good person can be explained further when we consider that he doesn't mind being bopped (and in some interpretations, downright enjoys it), can shrug off any verbal abuse, and clings onto any snippets of warmth he receives from Brain. The things others would raise their eyebrows at are things Pinky ignores or adores. I think it's safe to say that, overall, Pinky is the type to focus on his friend's positive traits and simply ignore most of the negatives, as seen in "Pinky's Plan" when he gives an extremely sugarcoated description of Brain to the world leaders. Because of all this, in Pinky's mind, Brain truly is an angel. It's bittersweet, really.

And here we have it again. Brain on the throne, ruling. This is all Pinky truly wants—for his friend to be happy, fulfilled and at peace, making whatever world he may rule a better place. There's not an awful lot more to say now, since this is just a repeat of the scene from Brain's fantasy, but I think that's the most heartwarming part. These two mice are working towards the exact same goal, and yet their reasons for doing so are quite different: Brain to rule the world, Pinky to make his friend smile. It's almost poetic in its simplistic beauty. The voice actors said it best when they described the show as a "desperate love story", and the little scenes like this only prove that to me.

Welp, that's all I have to say for now! I haven't reached this hard since I tried to get to the chromatica oreos on the top shelf in Tesco. But this was fun, anyway! Thank you ever so much for reading :'D Your patience must be incredible! 💕

[comingoutofthecauldron]

Sometimes I'm like broooo how did leigh make such good books with soc and ck with such good characters and plots and wordbuilding but she had made a (very entertaining) trilogy but with so many grating 2D characters and sometimes the plot was just ... not it

Like soc and ck obviously have their flaws too but not to the same extent as the trilogy

Like did you feel leigh was very unnecessarily sympathetic to the darkling and treated Nikolai as a mostly good character in the text even though he did sooooo many shitty things

And that zoya was treated (unknowingly) with a lot of misogyny in the narrative which has caused many people in the fandom to hate her

And alarking and nikolina were romanticised in the books and in the fandom far too much

???

YES OKAY so this is a Big Thing for me. very controversially, i prefer tgt to soc solely because i find it much more enjoyable to read. HOWEVER, there's no denying that leigh's writing definitely improved from tgt to soc, i agree.

while i think that leigh clearly portrayed the darkling as a villain (she didn't tamper down his crimes or make them seem less horrific), i agree that the narrative was definitely (arguably too) sympathetic towards him. i could use a lot of examples for this, but none work quite so well as:

“Once more,” he said. “Speak my name once more.” He was ancient, I knew that. But in this moment he was just a boy – brilliant, blessed with too much power, burdened by eternity.

“Aleksander.”

His eyes fluttered shut. “Don’t let me be alone,” he murmured. And then he was gone.

leigh's choice to have alina, one of the people who suffered most at the darkling's hands, sympathise with him and even grant him his last wish, was a bad one. this man is a thousand year old p*dophilic mass murdering sex trafficker and she had the nerve to describe him as "just a boy" and "brilliant [...] blessed [...] burdened". of course you can argue that this is the residue of his grooming of alina, but i just think that after all the shit he'd done by this point, after a whole book of alina talking about how manipulated she felt and how much she hated him, these few words offer him clemency from the narrative that he does not deserve. all he did to earn alina's kindness (not forgiveness, to be fair to leigh) was die.

and yes, nikolai was hero worshipped by the text for absolutely no reason. even though we see both alina and mal put up a lot of resistance to him + the shit he pulls (punching him, criticizing him etc), the narrative basically shoves their eventual "pity" and "admiration" for nikolai down the readers' throats.

“[...] Nikolai might never have made it out of the Grand Palace.” It hurt me to say it, but I forced myself to speak the words. “He could be dead.”

and

The too-clever fox. Even once he’d abandoned his disguise as Sturmhond, that’s who Nikolai had been to me, always thinking, always scheming.

and

[to nikolai] “I’m just happy you’re alive,” I said, hastily blinking my eyes clear.

imo this sympathy + romanticisation is much worse and much more prominent throughout the latter half of s&s and the whole of r&r than the sympathy with the darkling, purely because the bad things nikolai does are essentially never acknowledged. there is (unsurprisingly ig) no talk of his imperialism, no talk of his pursuing alina when she's a minor, no talk of his racist remarks and generally very little talk of him being an asshole (particularly to mal).

moreover, i agree that nikolina + darklina were too romanticized by the text. i have a very complicated relationship with leigh's portrayal of alarkling, because a lot of alina's earlier feelings and sympathy for the darkling stem from his grooming and manipulation of her, which i think this quote from the start of r&r shows pretty well:

Even now, after everything he’d done, I wanted to believe the Darkling, to find some way to forgive him.

but then we get the whole mental house call thing that alina + the darkling do, in which they can visit each other and no one else can see the other. that was a mistake narratively. the ability to do this implies a sort of deeper bond, and even though the darkling then uses this bond to show alina the corpse of the only mother figure she'd ever known, it still carries almost romantic connotations with it throughout the rest of the book(s) for some reason. this dynamic is similar to a lot of "soulmate bonds" in mainstream ya (namely sjm's mating bonds), which helps to explain why so many people ship darklina; it is written & coded the same as the majority of (abusive) ya relationships, so readers pick up on this as a sign of romance rather than some attempt at narrative foils or something (bc in reality zoya is alina's foil). this isn't even mentioning the repetition of alina's desire to forgive the darkling and her confusion over her "feelings" for him, which once again just reinforces darklina as a viable ship in a lot of readers' minds.

as for nikolina, as a less prevalent ship in the series it gets less attention in the fandom. most often, i see people turn to nikolina because they don't like malina or the darkling, or because they wanted alina to become queen (to which i remind everyone that alina never wanted to be queen). at first i was alright with leigh's portrayal of them because alina punches nikolai + is angry with him for kissing her non-consensually etc, which is the closest the narrative ever comes to condemning him for his actions. but later on alina seems to forget all this and considers marrying nikolai, even joking with him a little when he proposes:

[during nikolai's marriage proposal]

“Stop that,” I said, still grinning.

“What?”

“Saying the right thing.”

there is zero acknowledgement of how predatory nikolai is, and instead the narrative goes on to sympathise with nikolai and have alina feel guilty for rejecting him. imo alina's characterization (her initial disdain for nikolai, which was much more in character) was sacrificed to raise up nikolai, and also show him to be a plausible and "likable" love interest for zoyalai, which is where leigh obviously intended for nikolai to end up (zoya is even mentioned during nikolai's proposal).

finally - yes, zoya in tgt is basically a manifestation of leigh's internalised misogyny. from alina's initial slut-shamey disdain for her, to leigh weaponising her against malina (repeated sexual encounters with mal), to zoya being seen as evil & a bitch by the other female characters just because she's powerful + isn't "nice", zoya's character was assassinated before it even had chance to materialize. even though zoya was also a victim of the darkling and is, as i mentioned before, alina's narrative foil, alina has very little sympathy for her and assumes that she's an evil bitch. tbf, this gets better with each book, but even in r&r there's a lot of tension between zoya and the other characters because she's seen as unlikable and difficult. i can't speak to her characterization in kos or soc, because i haven't read one and don't really remember the other, but i have heard that it improved from tgt to kos.

anyways this has been a long ass rant and i'm very sorry to anyone who scrolls past it on their dash. fuck the darkling, fuck nikolai lantsov, and stan malyen oretsev

[solvskrift]

who are your favorite mother / father figures for harry? I'm a sucker for molly and arthur being there for him ♥️♥️♥️

You guys get me, you really get me.

Molly and Arthur are at the very top of the heap for many reasons, but especially for one in particular: their relationship with him was never complicated or ‘multi-faceted.’ They were not his godparents, they were not family friends, they were not his relatives or his teachers or his bodyguards. They were always parents. Yes, Harry was their son’s friend, but that’s only how they were introduced and got to know each other. Harry became an integral part of their family almost instantly, and they were not only willing to house and protect him but begged for the opportunity to do so because they genuinely cared about him. They loved him for himself, not for the Boy Who Lived or who his parents were, and he desperately needed that. I made an edit once including Harry as one of the Weasleys’ children, and people complained that I had not included Hermione. There’s a reason for that. They cared about her, too, very much. But she had her own family. She was not neglected and abused and abandoned. She did not need their protection and love like Harry did, though they gave it to her still. Harry was different. He was their son.

Dumbledore is extremely high up on the list for me for Harry’s fathers. This an unpopular choice in certain circles these days, but I think that’s because Dumbledore’s character in fandom has become one-dimensional. It’s more common to see him thrown aside as a manipulative old bastard when there’s so much more to who he was, and a big part of that is his love for Harry. It amazes me that’s it’s still debated whether Dumbledore cared about Harry or not. It’s like everyone stopped reading after the Prince’s Tale and didn’t finish the book. But without getting off on that tangent, Harry and Dumbledore’s relationship is one of the most important ones to me in the entire series because it was so unique, and it just always did something to me that this great and powerful wizard who everyone revered and respected tried to resist loving this boy who lived under so many tremendous burdens, and he couldn’t do it. He broke so quickly because Harry was just such a good goddamn person with a huge heart, and he constantly exceeded all of Dumbledore’s wildest expectations. He was brave and selfless and brilliant, and it fucked Dumbledore up so much that he made a lot of big mistakes.

I could go on forever about Harry’s parental figures so I’ll try to keep this fairly short (ha), but Hagrid deserves way more than an honorable mention. I adore his relationship with Harry, and I love that at one point in GoF Harry thinks that ‘lying to Hagrid was not quite like lying to anyone else.’ Hagrid was his rescuer and protecter, and they will always have a very close bond.

I always loved this quote by JKR, referring to alchemy and why she chose Hagrid and Dumbledore’s names: “Rubeus (red) Hagrid and Albus (white) Dumbledore… both hugely important to Harry, seem to me to represent two sides of the ideal father figure he seeks; the former is warm, practical and wild, the latter impressive, intellectual, and somewhat detached.”

And then there’s McGonagall. Ugh, McGonagall. Bless that woman. This quote gets me every time, from OotP when Harry’s running around the castle after his vision of Sirius trying to find someone to help, and he finds out McGonagall’s been transferred to St. Mungo’s: “There was nobody left to tell. Dumbledore had gone, Hagrid had gone, but he had always expected Professor McGonagall to be there, irascible and inflexible, perhaps, but always dependably, solidly present.” She was hard on Harry when she needed to be, as his teacher, and she punished him severely sometimes when he broke the rules, but she was always fair, always dependable, and always had his best interests at heart. She was one of the most stable people in his life, probably the most, next to the Weasleys, and Harry appreciated and cared about her so much he Crucio’ed a man to defend her. Top tier, good stuff, forever emotional about it, thanks.

[bubonickitten]

So what do you think are anders best traits (other than him worrying about mage rights and him being a compassive healer?) I really love him and I love the way you write about him so I'm just curious.

There’s a lot I love about him :0

I mean, on a personal level, he’s a really relatable character for me, so that’s part of why I like him so much.

But I also like him as a character in general. (I’ll put this post under a cut bc it got long.) 

Him being a compassionate healer and being incredibly passionate about mage rights are huge parts of his character and they’re honestly two of the biggest things that make me like him so much. 

Like, here’s a person who was subject to systemic abuse for most of his life, who knows full well the repercussions of rebelling against the status quo, but does it anyway, because his convictions are just that strong. He knows that the Circle and the Chantry are fundamentally wrong. He’s experienced and witnessed firsthand what happens to people who fight back. Hell, when we meet him Awakening, he’s only just recently been released from a year of solitary confinement for running away - he just got out and as soon as he was able to, he ran again. If he gets caught and sent back to the Circle again, he’s going back into solitary confinement at the very least, and by the time he’s in Kirkwall, he’s also possessed by a spirit, so he’s risking just being killed outright. He’s risking everything by fighting back so openly and actively, but he does it anyway. 

And it’s not just Justice’s presence that makes him so willing to fight. Even when he was running, he was fighting back, because by constantly running away, he was refusing to submit. But in Awakening, Anders did feel like he couldn’t have any impact on the status quo - he believed that things would change eventually, he believed that the way mages are treated is inherently and fundamentally wrong and one day things would be different, but he didn’t think he’d ever see it in his lifetime, and he didn’t believe he of all people could do anything to enact change. Justice helped him realize that he could be an agent of change, but that fire and that strong sense of right and wrong were already there - it just needed to be validated and encouraged, which Justice did for him. 

And I do like that Anders needed support to be able to get to that point, bc I feel like that’s... realistic, y’know? I don’t like the idea that everyone should have to fend for themselves and not have to rely on others to stand up and fight. He couldn’t do it alone, and there’s nothing wrong with that. He hasn’t gotten much support from others throughout his life, so I like that in this instance, he had someone to lean on. (And I still wish there were more opportunities to support him more actively in DA2.)  

Like, it was difficult for Anders to admit to those feelings of powerlessness - which is entirely understandable, because in his experience, showing that kind of vulnerability could get him killed or worse (if the templars considered a mage to be weak-willed, they might not even give them a chance at the Harrowing and just make them Tranquil outright - and Anders is canonically mentally ill, which I imagine added an extra burden in terms of hiding his vulnerability). So, outwardly, he talked a big talk about only being concerned with his own freedom and pretends to be more apathetic and careless than he actually is. 

This also shows a lot in terms of his sense of humor - it’s a lot of morbid sarcasm, irreverent joking, gallows humor even - because he uses it as a shield and a coping mechanism. Ngl, I love that aspect of him, it’s one of the things that started endearing him to me in Awakening first. I play my Hawke as having a similar sense of irreverent, snarky humor, so they play well off of one another. Humor as a coping mechanism is a character trait I tend to appreciate and relate to a lot, haha. 

Anyway, I think in actuality he cares so much it hurts. It might not seem like it when we first meet him in Awakening, but I think it’s just that it’s easier and psychologically safer for him to pretend he doesn’t care than it is to admit that he does care but feels powerless to change things. It takes a lot of strength (and also support from others, which again, is something that Anders hasn’t had much of throughout most of his life) to be able to confront your own vulnerability and try to channel it into something that benefits others. 

But even in Awakening, his actions often contradicted the “I don’t care about anyone but myself” talk - if you tell him to run away in the beginning of the game, he’ll do so, but he shows back up like five minutes later because he felt like he couldn’t leave the Warden to fight the darkspawn alone (he jokes about being “bad at the whole ‘fugitive from justice’ thing”, which... turns out to be way more accurate than he may even realize in that moment). In the endgame, he’s not eager to go along with the Warden to Amaranthine, but if you do bring him, he’s one of the companions who will argue against leaving Amaranthine to burn - his instincts might tell him to run, but he cares too much about the survivors in Amaranthine to leave them to their fate. 

Not to mention, canonically, spirit healers are kinda rare. They derive a lot of their power from spirits of compassion, which means earning spirits’ trust and cooperation. A person who isn’t compassionate probably wouldn’t be able to earn that cooperation of a spirit of compassion in the first place. Not to mention his interest in being a healer in general - it’s a big part of his identity, to the point where in DA2, one of the things he worries most about is not being able to heal anymore because he’s so afraid that he or Justice will accidentally hurt one of his patients.

I think a lot of his attachment to the healer role is also tied up in his own internalized belief that he has to be a Good Mage in order to deserve freedom - it seems contradictory, it’s something that goes against his stated principles, mages shouldn’t have to prove themselves and be ‘good’ mages according to the Chantry’s fucked up doctrine to deserve freedom and life and love, but he lived in the Circle for at least half his life and he definitely internalized a lot of the hateful messages they taught about mages. Fighting against those teachings is a constant battle for him - which also ties into his occasional crises of faith, because he’s an Andrastian and all the spiritual authorities in his life have taught him that he’s a non-person, that he’s inherently sinful and cursed and deserving of subjugation because he’s a mage. 

So, he has a lot of moments of self-doubt. He has a lifetime of trauma and abuse that affect his present well-being. He has a lot of self-loathing and a lot of fear of himself (the latter esp after merging with Justice). He doesn’t see himself as worthy of love or care, even if he talks passionately about how mages deserve those things - he often doesn’t give himself the same consideration that he’s willing to give others. He has an incredibly complicated relationship with his own anger - because his anger is totally and completely justifiable, but it scares him, because he associates rage and anger with demons and loss of control. (I think a big source of the conflict btwn he and Justice is how they differ re: embracing and accepting anger. For Justice, that anger is righteous fury, it’s justified, it’s a source of passion and change. For Anders, it’s a source of fear and insecurity a lot of the time. I think a lot of their miscommunication is rooted in that fear.)

But Anders works himself half to death trying to help as many people as he can for as long as he can, and even though he’s barely making a dent in all the suffering he sees in the world, even though he’s risking everything, he just keeps going, because that’s how strongly he believes and that’s how much he cares. Every mage he helps escape the Gallows, every patient he helps in his clinic is worth it to him. That kind of perseverance in the face of hopelessness and doubt and a world set against you is really admirable to me.

And I also like how clear it is that it doesn’t come easy to him. It’s not just some inspiration porn “you can do anything you set your mind to if you just try :)” thing. He stumbles a lot. He fails a lot. He spends most of DA2 in a constant state of anxiety and desperation (esp since he really doesn’t get much support from the people closest to him, except like… Justice and Hawke, if you play Hawke in a supportive role). He’s idealistic, but he can’t help but dip into periods of hopelessness and depression and doubt - partly because he has a mood disorder, partly because that’s just… expected for someone who’s seen as much shit as he has. His life is messy and he’s tired and it shows. But even when he’s running, he’s fighting. Sometimes, survival is in itself a form of rebellion and he’s a walking example of that. He is stubborn and although sometimes it’s a negative, it also has its perks. And that passion doesn’t just manifest as rage - it’s also love, because lbh, he is a hopeless romantic (in a dorky, endearing way at times) and in his romance route he loves Hawke fiercely.  

It’s a shame that he didn’t get more positive character development in DA2 (it’s no secret how resentful I am toward the writers, he and Justice really deserved better). I headcanon him over time learning how to communicate and coexist with Justice; learning to practice self-care and be kinder to himself; more fully accepting that he has a right to be angry and he doesn’t have to prove that he’s deserving of personhood or love.

And he has a fair amount of flaws for sure - he has a tendency to project his insecurities onto others (e.g. Merrill), he’s not a good ally to other marginalized groups (e.g. elves), he sometimes lashes out at others when they don’t deserve it (which, although I understand why he behaves that way, it still isn’t fair to others who are on the receiving end), he was manipulative in the ‘Justice’ quest (I understand his motivations but despite his intentions it wasn’t acceptable behavior) - but I think he has an ability to better himself in those areas and I like to headcanon that personal growth for him. (That’s not to say I want him to be a flawless character - nobody’s perfect, and a flawless character would be pretty flat and unrealistic, but I also like when characters are allowed to have personal growth in a positive direction.)

I guess, in all, he’s an interesting, likable, and relatable character for me - I wish the writers treated him better, I have a lot of criticisms wrt how he (and Justice) were written (including how Anders was treated as a bipolar character), and I’m also willing to criticize him where it’s deserved (I have a whole tag full of meta w/ my criticisms of him) - but overall he’s one of my faves.

 Tbh the reason why DA2 is my fave game in the series (despite all of my criticisms of the writing in it, esp Act 3) is the characters. Hawke is my favorite protag and DA2 has probably my favorite companion group - like, Anders, Merrill, Fenris, Isabela, and Varric are some of my fave characters in the whole series - so the characters are ultimately what make me like that game.