#which i guess is somewhat canon

[svwhssftr]

i think it's funny how i just assumed that tobirama haters could never exist

[pocketramblr]

Canonically, All for One has a quirk that can detect lies so he could just straight up ask him are you my brother who I thought was dead for years? Would be funnier however if All for One just decided that his lie detecting quirk was malfunctioning because his pride can't bear the thought of his younger supposedly stupid and naive brother was able to outsmart him for many years.

Canonically, AfO has a quirk that lets him detect the "slightest malicious intent towards him" that he combined with other quirks later to strengthen it and while he uses it as a lie detector and says he got it in the earlier days, we don't know exactly when that was in relation to Yoichi's 'death'. So he doesn't even have to think it's malfunctioning! he just can assume that this guy who looks weirdly like yoichi is somewhat malicious towards him, probably out of annoyance to bumping his grocery cart and staring at him

[gay-dorito-dust]

hi!! i’ve been searching high and low for fanfic since seeing deadpool and wolverine LOL so i was wondering if you could do either head canons or a small fic (whichever you prefer) about deadpool x reader x wolverine? either a poly relationship or both of them trying to compete and woo reader? maybe it could take place during the movie events? tysm!

Your relationship with Wade and Logan oftentimes consisted of them trying to hog your for themselves, which leads to the other getting jealous and or upset, so much so to the point where they’ll end up squabbling over you preferred more.

This is not new as the pair seemingly have something against sharing but overtime it does get better and they’re less likely to fight over you and who gets your attention.

They’ve even had it scheduled out at one point but that didn’t last as either Wade or Logan would accuse the other of prolonging their time with you to the point it was intersecting with the other pre established times slots.

Logan: Oi scrotum face! You’ve been hogging them five minutes more than established!

Wade, acting coy as he clings onto you; oh am I? I’m pretty sure my cuddle session was 11:30 until 12:30pm-

Logan: it’s 12:35 dickhead!

Wade: *gasps* oh my gosh you’re right! I guess time must’ve slipped my mind when cuddling my pookie here *boops you on the nose*

Logan: *not too impressed*

When they’re not at each other’s throats over who you love more, they’re wooing you as though you’re not already fucking dating the pair of them. Particularly Wade more so than Logan. 💀

You’d find Wade draped across your bed with a rose held between in his hands, buck naked and with nothing but a pillow to cover his dick or ‘the surprise’ he calls it.

‘You can peg me tonight.’ ;) - Wade

‘I am so honoured, ass up baby girl.’ - you (probably)

Logan isn’t use to soft touches of love, he really isn’t and so if you were to ever kiss the places where his wounds once were before they healed, he’d melt. His smile is soft as he silently watched you kiss the knuckles, completely unafraid of his claws popping out and or caressing the calluses on his palms. At long last his soul was at ease, his mind was quiet as all Logan could focus on was you being tender and soft with him as though he hadn’t lived through the past 200 years of pain, trauma and suffering.

You treated him like he was just Logan Howlett and nothing more, not wolverine, not weapon X, just Logan and only Logan for that’s who the man sitting next to you was. You helped numb the pain whilst holding his hand through the nights were he awakes breathless and his claws out and ready.

Logan panics if he were to see that he accidentally nicked you with his claws during his nightmares, for hurting you was the last thing he ever wanted to do, and would try to push you away whenever you tried to get closer to him. He has hurt you and he shouldn’t be worthy of your comfort when all he could see was the really small nick on your arm.

‘Logan-‘

‘Don’t. I hurt you.’

‘It’s only a small cut, I’m fine Logan please.’

‘No! What if next time I cut you badly?’

Your heart broke whenever he got like this, so naturally you had to force yourself into his arms and make him come to terms with the fact that he would never hurt your willingly and grab ahold of his face, resting your foreheads together as you told him to focus on you and your breathing; showing him that you were alive and well.

Wade might as well have whined when you kissed his skin where wounds should’ve been before they healed. They’re his favourite moments between the two of you and would even imitate it back to you, but without the wounds, so it’s just him kissing your skin wherever whenever. He might even blow raspberries to keep the spirit of your somewhat goofy relationship alive and well.

Wade has photos of your dates, movie nights and such kept in somewhere in his room, whether that he a box or album, he has them and will look at them and smile because he’s a sap for making memories that’ll live forever much like him. He cares deeply about you and would even keep tokens or other random things as mementos too.

Some are more weirder than others.

‘This was a ticket when we went to the arcade.’

‘Oh this is that stick we both said looks like a penis when we took Dogpool to the dog park.’

‘This was the bandaid that you tried to use to cover my wounds before you found out either of me or wolvie could heal-‘

Logan and Wade don’t like to share, that we already know, but if someone who wasn’t aware of your polyamorous relationship with the two and decided to shoot their shot, they’d know first hand how much these men don’t play with you as Wade verbally beats them down with his crude sense of humour and Logan hovers over you, glaring as the poor person until they’ve ran away with their tail between their legs.

Remy?

Logan would growl and glare at the man while keeping a possessive hand on your waist, tugging you to his side to show that you were taken, or even have you wear his jacket to further get the point across to Remy.

Wade would just make a big joke out of it all the while having his hand in your back pocket. ‘You cant have our pookie, go get your own magic mike.’

Also when it comes to cuddling at night your either between Wade and Logan or Logan is in between you and Wade, or Wade is in between you and Logan. It changes now and then but when you’re in the middle of them both, it’s the safest you’ll ever be in your entire life, nothing can get to you and you can rest easily knowing that you’ve got two men who’d do anything to keep you safe and secure.

[oblique-lane]

more mercenary analysis, whichever merc you want <3

Not a mercenary but... Okay!

Let's dissect Pauling

Always so collected, responsible and efficient. The one who is not afraid to get her hands dirty for the sake of a goal, and her performance is always one hundred percent. What could possibly be not cool about her?

Well, maybe the fact that this all is, in fact, an act. Of course it is.

I'm not saying her determination and dedication to her job aren't sincere decisions of her heart, she really enjoys it and shines in her work. It's just a matter of WHY and WHAT she's doing it for. And on what scale.

For her, her job is EVERYTHING. Eagerly working 364 days a year with barely any rest, masochistically putting herself in so much danger, blindly following the boss's instructions, not even hesitating to kill people standing on the way...

Wow, there's gotta be something going on here.

Well, obviously the Administrator plays A HUGE role in this situation. Why would Pauling trust her so much? Referring to the comics, Pauling trusted her wholeheartedly on whatever the Administrator was planning, even though she didn't know what it was. This blind following that vaguely resembles nothing less than a weird somewhat child-to-a-mother attachment. It's just a Boss, just a job, why?

Because that's what it is. Mother issues. Very apparent.

We don't know anything about Pauling's past, so there's where the headcanons begin:

I'm assuming her birth mother was very neglectful and dismissing, never acknowledged her daughter's accomplishments and struggles. No matter how hard Pauling tried to become "worthy" in her eyes, it seemed to be never enough, as if she didn't even exist at all. Maybe her mother was a substance addict or something and their household wasn't safe and stable, so Pauling had to become an adult early and run away from home as a teenager and find a job to get by.

(I assume that because I believe there was a mention in the canon lore that Ms.Pauling had been working for the Administrator for long long years (don't remember exactly), indicating that she started working when she was still a minor).

So, being taken under the Administrators wing, her young wounded brain found a substitute for a very thing she was lacking, subconsciously clinging onto the Administrator as a newly mother figure, in order to "get it right this time".

Administrators Strictness, responsibility and demandingness were the most favorite qualities of a person of authority in Pauling's eyes, in contrast to the laziness, unaccountability and indifference of the environment in which she grew up. She could finally strive.

This time she would show the mother figure that she's worthy, she's important and irreplaceable; she exists. She would prove that no amount of hardship is too much for her if it means approval for the Administrator.

And the Administrator kind-of-sort-of gave Pauling this pseudo-love in return, encouraging her to sacrifice herself even more for their work. Which is at the very least unfair, and at most just predatory. Administrators "love" was conditional, in contrast with when the real motherly love Pauling unknowingly expected. Administrator was too immature for a mother figure, too much in power for a partner or a friend, yet too close for a formal boss. What is this!? Something not nice.

The Administrator doesn't love Pauling for Pauling, she loves her working qualities. And thus, Paulings subconscious guess was confirmed that "I'm only important when I'm doing the job. I AM the job."

Tying your worth to what you DO instead of what you are is a huge dangerous existential rout one could choose. But she never really knew her importance outside of her skills, so she wouldn't know.

Now imagine how actually painful that character arc was for her, when the Administrator proved herself to be unreliable and secretive, and when Pauling started to question her intentions for the first time.

"... Because I trusted you!"

"Then why are you questioning me now?"

It wasn't even the real conversation between them, just Pauling's mind torturing her.

It reminded me of the crisis of a 4-year-old when they realise that their parents aren't perfect; they don't know anything and they CAN hurt you.This shattering illusion of almighty love. When a child stops believing that the "harsh love" their mother treats them with is simply an abuse.

Wouldn't it be terrifying to realise in your 20s thar despite running for "the mother's approval" all your life, you will never truly get it. If your mother failed to provide it to you at such a young age, nothing will truly substitute that, especially now, when you're an adult, no one will love your inner child the way it was supposed to be loved.

Unless you yourself decide to take that role.

...

Realistically speaking, it's not nearly that sever with Pauling! She's happy in the environment she's in, there's lots of interests for her to explore (Guns, fights, killin'!) So many adventures every day! Even if Pauling has her inner suffering, it's not that bad aa I describe it. Her mother problems may actually be an advantage, a reason she is such a good and caring boss for the mercenaries.

I'm just edgying things down for the sake of the clearer analysis. But still...

If the Administrator will be gone and Pauling loses her life-dedicated job... What will be left? Who is Pauling once Mann Co is no more? Can she answer that?

References:

– A video that helped me better understand the Good Girl mask:

– "Lise Bourbeau's 5 soul wounds model: Injustice"

[torawro]

I’D DIE FOR YOU (AND I HAVE). ( s.a. )

sousuke aizen & black!fem!reader.

cw ━━ ! minors, blank and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is portrayed as a black woman but you do not have to imagine her that way. using this map of the seireitei as a reference (i searched high and low for a consistent accurate one but it was hard). the first half is set pre-ryoka invasion / pre-soul society arc. the second half is aizen-centric (from his pov told from the 3rd person) and set post-tybw arc, years after he was sealed away in mugen, also including mention of events from vol. 1 of can't fear your own world (a light novel that's post-tybw & can be considered canonical); so all this being said: SPOILERS i guess???? of course you're welcome to read if you don't care about spoilers! somewhat based on 'die for you' by the weeknd & even more loosely based on 'dark red' by steve lacy. contains themes of heavy-ish angst, existential crises (?) & inner emotional turmoil within reader + aizen (separately). descriptions of character death, blood and violence. descriptions of manipulation/mind games. aizen is an unkind man. proofread (i did my best).

word count ━━ 11k

notes ━━ ! the way this fic was supposed to finished a month ago...but life once more gets in my way. and the way that it's this long....i anticipated the max being 10k but i greatly underestimated how long it would take to flesh out my idea. anywho i'm somewhat reentering my bleach era again. i’m not sure what it is but character analyses in the form of fanfiction is my jam rn like i really enjoyed writing this (i got tired of the length by like... 7k words lmao) but i like how this turned out. i've watched & read quite a bit of content that provide explanations as to why aizen is the way he is so i wanted to try my own portrayal of that in the context of canonical events. how i characterized him here is partially inspired by a fic i read about him last year so shout out to them for their support :D i hope i've depicted and humanized aizen well ♡. reblogs + commentary are heavily appreciated!!!!!

THE PAD OF YOUR THUMB SLOWLY glided against your bottom lip, the lingering aftertaste of jasmine tea still on its surface and on your breath. The absentminded motion of your thumb caressing your mouth, as if in deep contemplation, continued as you stared at the clock hanging on the wall above you.

It was past eleven, and the midnight hour only continued to draw near as time sustained its temporal march. And there you sat at your desk, floating in the limbo of your mind that was filled with hesitancy and admittedly, budding anticipation.

Your gaze lowered to the now empty porcelain cup, nothing remaining of its contents except the shriveled remnants of herbs and a few wayward drops of the brew.

Your senior comrade, captain Sōsuke Aizen, was correct in his prediction that you'd take a liking to its floral and delicate taste when he gifted you a jar full of the jasmine tea leaves as well as other ingredients.

The captain of Squad 5 seemed to be correct about a lot of things.

His intelligence and foresight, along with his kind and politely witty disposition, were qualities that you found somewhat charming, and gradually drew you closer to him.

Being the current third seat of the 9th company, your barracks and those of squad 5's were relatively close to each other's, so often you'd catch glimpses of and run into Captain Aizen on a pretty normal basis. Over the years, the conversations that bounced between the two of you expanded past the realm of formalities between a higher and lower ranking officer, and instead ranged in territories from literature, to art, to food & drink, and even to the politics of the government for which they were soldiers for.

Sometimes, you found it hard to believe that you managed to befriend a man like him. A man who seems to have mastered the balance between being a gentle soul, helpful to others, but also possessed enough refined power and skills to be named a captain within the Gotei 13.

Especially a man who wasn’t even of your own squad.

Despite the increasingly friendly relations and generally pleasant conversation, there were few moments where Aizen's words didn't feel quite. . . . real━ he didn't feel real. He spoke eloquently, often relying on figurative language to further illustrate his point and to breathe meaning into seemingly plain and meaningless words. But at times those words, his tone felt stained; stained with some substance or color you couldn't quite place. An enigmatic façade was painted over his speech, and it took too much mental capacity to try and find your own meaning in it.

So you'd often brush it off. Your over-reliance on your own reasoning that 'you weren’t able to come to a conclusion because there is no problem a conclusion could be generated from' successfully quieted your mind’s voice. You'd also frequently blame exhaustion, or your newfound hobby of watching human psychological crime shows during your off days for these subconscious ideas you had.

But you feared that the request Aizen made of you yesterday, the source of your current predicament, couldn't be blamed on any of those things. You looked at the clock again before returning to stare at your empty tea cup. For what reason could Sōsuke Aizen wish to meet you outside of the 1st division barracks? Specifically at this hour? You immediately thought of his question as uncharacteristic of him but prevented yourself from jumping to any further conclusions.

Aizen was a reasonable man, and you were sure there was a reasonable explanation.

With a final sigh of acquiescence, you stood up from your sitting position to retie your yukata before slipping a thicker, dark colored haori on top. You were unsure how cold it was this late at night or how long you'd be out, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

You paused for a moment, glancing longingly at your vanity mirror a few times, clearly torn between a decision, before giving in with a soft groan. Grabbing your favorite perfume, you quickly spritzed the spray onto both your inner wrists, either sides of your neck, and stray areas on your clothes. You’d proceed to make sure your hair was in order and your lips were as moisturized and glossy as a pair of tear-filled eyes before making your way to the door and slipping on your sandals.

Meeting with a captain— with Aizen of all people— in the dead of night resembled too closely to forbidden lovers rendezvousing under a fruit tree to fulfill their desires of embracing one another, with no one but the moon as their witness. The comparison alone caused the apples of your cheeks to burst aflame with embarrassment, and you lightly chastised yourself for even indulging in such an inappropriate train of thought. Such a scenario seemed far too deluded to even be considered ‘wishful thinking’.

But those delusions still seemed to make more sense than whatever other conclusion you have yet to reach.

Making your way out of your personal quarters, you activated your shunpo technique, stealthily hopping from one rooftop to the other in an effort to make it to Squad 1 barracks quicker.

After several minutes, your mind mostly engulfed with the 'what if's', the soles of your sandals finally touched ground, and you stood a few feet away from the massive walls and bridges that connected to and from the barracks. Even at night you were able to make out the bold-printed kanji for the number 1 that was painted on the building.

When you arrived, even from a nearby rooftop, you didn't see anyone around. Feelings of confusion and worry began to creep up and flicker to life in your mind.

But, as if your thoughts were as audible, you felt a light breeze of wind behind you, a familiar sound that indicated someone had made their presence known.

Startled, you reflexively reached for your zanpakuto, when you remembered that you hadn't even brought it with you. It still laid against the wall near your bed, just where you placed it earlier when you were relieved of your duties for the day.

You didn't think you needed it necessarily if you were just going to meet with Aizen, hence why taking it with you slipped your mind.

The flickers of concern were swiftly extinguished as your brain caught up with your body upon realizing who just appeared. A relieved sigh left your lips, a breath of air that seemed to release all the tension that had a grip on your heart and wound tight within your muscles. "Ah! Good evening Captain Aizen. You caught me off guard for a moment there."

"My apologies, that was not at all my intention." The Fifth Division Captain sported a dark colored scarf, his long captain's coat and the standard shihakushō all Gotei officers were supposed to wear. In the sash around his waist resided his own sheathed zanpakuto. His tawny hair maintained its usual part but looked slightly tousled, yet still remaining so in a meticulous fashion that made it look intentional.

The state of his hair alone, and his current facial expression made Aizen look more . . . approachable if that’s how you were to describe it. There was a glint in his eyes that you had seldom seen before.

"Thank you, for making your way down here to accommodate my rather. . . . atypical request. I again extend my apologies if I have inconvenienced you in any way."

You shook your head in reply, "It's alright, I wasn't doing anything too important anyway. Just having a cup of tea and delighting myself in a book before bed."

You glanced downwards at the foot or so of space that was wedged in between the two of you. You forced away the murmurs of your lingering thoughts that took note of how the moonlight and shadows danced across the surface of Aizen's face just right, and emphasized his decidedly handsome features.

"But having a complete and good night's rest is important to be fully functional in all areas of one's performance. Wouldn't you agree?"

You couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Yes, I do agree with that sentiment."

Aizen all but hummed in acknowledgement, letting a moment of silence fill the air before speaking again.

"Shall we be on our way?"

You nodded in agreement, following him as the both of you walked about the First Division grounds. From what you could tell based on your position, your aimless nightly stroll drew you closer to where Sokyoku Hill was located. The area became increasingly more grassy and contained less buildings.

Although Squad 1 grounds weren't terribly far from either of your barracks, you still weren't sure as to why Captain Aizen wished to meet out here. Initially you thought that perhaps he was just fond of this particular scenery, but really it could have been anything.

But still, you believed Aizen always had a purpose for everything he did.

After several moments, his warm voice replaced the evening silence, vocalizing your current thoughts. “I assume you are contemplating why it is I have asked you here, and I’m afraid the reason is quite benign. Truthfully, I just wished for your company. I often go on night walks to clear my head after a long day and thought I might invite you to join me this time, and have a conversation with each other."

Your brows shifted upwards, for that was not quite the answer you were expecting. It seemed too . . . simple. “Really? You just . . . wanted to talk with me? Plainly?”

The Squad 5 captain let out a short, soft laugh at the disbelief that was painted on your face. There was an expression of fondness present in his eyes and in the light smile he offered you. “Yes, exactly. I quite enjoy our discussions actually, they’re intellectually stimulating and relatively pleasant. You crossed my mind, and before yesterday, it has been quite some time since we’ve had the opportunity to unwind and talk.”

You hummed an mhmm in agreement, tearing your eyes away from Aizen’s side profile in favor of the hem of his captain’s haori, watching how it danced in the soft breeze. It seemed to be less distracting than the way Aizen peered down at you from time to time.

"I see. I am. . . . truly flattered by your words, Captain Aizen; you're too kind. Forgive me for asking but," you took longer strides so that you could fall into step next to him━ as if to speak to him more directly, "Why at this time? To talk with me, I mean. It couldn't wait until more . . . . . conventional hours?"

He chuckled again, and answered as smoothly as if he were awaiting you to ask him that. "Unfortunately, today's tasks ran a little long today, so I had to stay at my office later than usual." The spectacled man paused for a moment, before setting his soft gaze on you, "And besides, that completely defeats the purpose of inviting you on a night stroll, doesn't it?"

You ignored the heat flaring up in your cheeks again. Your mind refused to move past the fact that you had crossed Sōsuke Aizen's mind enough times━ or the times that he thought about you were significant enough━ and highly enough to invite you into his realm and indulge in these moments with him, when he very much could have done that alone.

A tender smile appeared on your lips, more towards yourself than the man next to you. "I. . . suppose it does."

The ashen-white moon only rose higher in the sky, providing an ambiance of tranquility as the both of you talked about whatever crossed the surface of your minds. Other times, the stillness of the night did the talking, and you'd listen to the leaves, and the wind, and the crickets sing together in harmony. Gradually as you walked and the beaten path grew more narrow, your figures drew closer together, until you could feel the long sleeves of his haori brush against your own.

You hadn't noticed that the two of you eventually stopped walking and paused under a tree until Aizen struck up conversation once more. When he called out your name in that gentle, velvety voice, you swore your heart was going to lurch out of your chest. The sound of your name rolled of his tongue so smoothly, the desire to hear it again grew within you.

"Uh━ yes, Captain Aizen?"

"Are you satisfied with way things are at the moment?"

You stood next to him, perplexed at his inquiry due to its vague nature. "Um, what. . . . things? I'm afraid I don't understand what you're asking."

The wind brushed Aizen's dark ochre tresses across his face as he took a step towards you, like the breeze itself was pushing him towards you. "Hm, perhaps I should be more clear then. Are you content with being a soul reaper? Are you satisfied with being a soldier for the Soul Society?"

With your brows slightly furrowed in thought, you remained silent for several seconds and overanalyzed his every word, trying to predict where he might be steering the conversation now. The longer you thought it over, the stronger that nagging feeling from within your soul became. The one that often told you what he was asking wasn't exactly . . . it didn't quite feel . . . . .

"This feels like a prelude to another insightful discussion on Shinigami━ and by extension━ Seiretei politics." Your words cut off your own thoughts, as if your mind was trying to sweep something under the proverbial rug.

Aizen huffed in amusement, before lightly shrugging, leaving your statement definitively unanswered.

You sighed as you seriously considered his question this time. "I mean sure, I guess. I'm somewhat satisfied with my job and all of . . . this," gesturing your hands in the air around you to emphasize your point. The 5th Division Captain made another humming noise, indicating that you still had his full attention. He inched a little closer into your personal space.

The mere action caused your next words to die in your throat and a quiet chuckle resounded from his, before your thoughts revived themselves again.

"Of course things could always be better but. . . . y'know. This is just how it is." You weren't quite sure if you should voice negative opinions about the Soul Society so plainly to a senior officer, even if he was the one who asked you in the first place, so you treaded lightly.

The same plainly relaxed smile from earlier remained painted across his lips, held in his chestnut irises was an emotion akin to affection. He seemed somewhat pleased that you were expressing your thoughts with him.

“And you? Are you satisfied, Captain Aizen?” You were unable to keep the teasing endearment out of your tone as you returned his gaze, casting aside the notions of Gotei officer seating and ranks for the moment. The air seemed like it shifted━ towards what, you weren't sure of━ but it kind of made you feel like you were adrift, floating in isolation from everything else around you.

It was still hard to process that you were alone with Captain Aizen right now. . . . at night.

A low hum reverberated within his chest, contemplative in nature as he replied, “Perhaps.”

The wind whistled lowly again, erecting goosebumps on whatever part of your skin happened to catch the midnight breeze. You fought the instinctual urge to twitch towards the nearest source of heat, which happened to be Aizen. Now that would be even more wholly inappropriate than the 'lovers meeting at midnight' scenario.

The silence between the both of you was brief, but comfortable nonetheless. Once more his mellifluous voice cut through the quiet, leveled and calm, like still ocean waters.

“Come. I want to show you something,” Aizen reached his arm out towards you, your spine as straight as if someone stuck a metal rod dipped in ice water down your robes.

The captain's movements seemed steady and slow━ it had felt like time itself had hesitated for several moments. You thought he was going to . . . . well you weren't sure what he was going to do, and that's what you made you nervous.

Was he going to touch you? Cradle your cheek? Remove a stray leaf that happened to land on your head? You were left somewhat dangling in anticipation, not daring to flinch backwards because you felt it would be disrespectful or offensive. You hadn't even blinked, subconsciously fearing that this was only a very vivid daydream.

But alas, when his arm drew near it extended past your head, slightly above you, and held a small branch in his palm it like a delicate flower. You released a breath you didn't know you were holding, but that breath drew short again when your gaze was eye level with his lower neck and chin.

He seemed . . . . closer.

“I think that regarding the condition of the Soul Society," Aizen began in a quiet voice, referencing his own reply to his earlier question, "and therefore my thoughts about it, is akin to this set of leaves on this branch."

Snapping out of whatever stupor you seemed to have slipped in, you exhaled softly before stepping back a bit to look at what he was talking about. In his palm he cradled a wayward branch that grew from one of the other sturdier branches of the tree. The green foliage of its arms had started to weaken and dull in color. The cold air due to the seasonal transition to autumn caused the leaves become brittle, nearing closer to the edge of death.

The sound of just how brittle they were resounded in the air when Aizen thumbed the leaves in between his fingertips, observing their texture with pity laced in his small movements.

"These leaves will fall off as it gets colder. And soon, the rest of this tree will be bare as well. When the time comes, when the right circumstances fall into place, the old die to make way and usher in the new; it's simply the way things are. I think of the Soul Society government is structured in a similar manner."

You hung onto his every word, like he were imparting crucial wisdom to you. Even though you were a bit confused on the last part, and on the connection between dying leaves and Soul Society, you still listened intently, waiting for him bridge the gap between the two.

"The Soul Society as it is now can be thought of as a season. And this particular season, this climate has remained so for several centuries. How can nature continue━ how can we continue to progress when the old have yet to be washed away by the currents of time? It defies that of nature, yes?" He directed this question at you specifically, in search of your agreement.

You nodded your head, tearing your gaze away from the branch and directed it at the grass beneath your feet. Your brows furrowed a little as you mused over Aizen's words. He gave a rather ambiguous answer before but now, his words sounded like vague displeasure and muted criticism. Everyone was entitled to their opinion, and on some fronts, you'd sometimes agreed with the 5th Division Captain. The Soul Society was far from perfect, too much emphasis on nobility and status, the government resembled too closely to an oligarchy . . . But you didn't━ wouldn't voice these thoughts, though.

Instead you hummed quietly under your breath. There was that tugging sensation again. This time it told you that there was something deeper to this conversation than meets the eye. But what could there be? Was there anything at all or were you just overthinking it?

The voice-like sensation in your soul was calling out to you, but you couldn't hear it that well or quite make out what it was saying. It's as if someone was calling out to you in a crowded room that had music playing on the speakers: you felt like if you listened hard enough you could make it out but ultimately, the result would fruitless.

"And when that happens," Aizen continued, "sometimes nature has to be gently nudged back on track to keep things moving smoothly. That may require . . . shaking the tree. Pulling a few harmful weeds from one's garden, so to speak."

"Weeds?" You echoed. You felt like you understood this analogy and therefore what he was trying to say, but at the same time you didn't. Or was it . . . . you didn't want to understand what he was implying?

Because if you were interpreting his words correctly, if he were inconspicuously comparing the higher-ups and the government itself to dying leaves and harmful plants that needed to be removed, then . . . .

"You, dear child, are a mere weed in this scenario."

Wait, what did he just━

Your thoughts were cut short when a gush of air that smelt strongly of Aizen━ warm oak, vanilla, and a kind of musk that you weren't sure how to describe but was still pleasant all the same━ brushed against your face and took you by surprise.

But there was another aroma that arose, steadily becoming more apparent alongside the increasingly painful throbbing feeling you felt in your abdomen.

It smelt metallic. And it was something that you've smelt all too many times before.

It was blood.

Your gaze that was initially narrowed in confusion lowered as it followed the source of this pain. Your eyes slowly widened in as you struggled to comprehend the blade that was currently ran through your torso.

Aizen's blade.

"Actually, instead of weeds, a more accurate and befitting analogy perhaps would be blades of grass. You unfortunately have to step on them in order to reach the weeds you want to remove."

You couldn't really focus on what the captain was saying, because your brain was still struggling to process what the hell just happened. Your hands slowly rose from their sides and shakily grazed the zanpakuto, wanting to believe that if you touched it, it would pass right through your fingers like mist. But no, the sensation of cold steel was as real as the robes you wore on your back. You only just now are processing the muffled squelching sound of his sword impaling your flesh.

You wanted to scream, to cry in pain, to vomit, to push him off━ something. But all you could do was stand there, stunned, words completely failing you. "Wh. . . . what? Why did . . . . you . . . . "

A cough replaced your attempt at a comprehensive sentence, and you tasted iron in your mouth.

Fuck....was this really happening?

"Please don't push yourself trying to talk," His voice was like an index finger to one's lips, similar to a parent's gentle caress to quiet and sooth their child, "You'll only hasten your death. And I'm sure you wish to know the reason for my killing you, yes? You'd have to be alive for that."

'Killing me?' 'My death?' The certainty that rang in his words chilled the blood in your veins, and they confirmed the one conclusion you hoped wouldn’t come true: that you were going to die.

The frigid embrace of fear and dread engulfed you from behind and you shivered, causing the blade snugly lodged in your organs to shift. The pain of that foreign object moving even a little bit shot through your entire body, causing a groan to emerge from your throat.

Desperate to conserve your energy and the oxygen that was becoming a little harder to take in, your breathing became uneven and a little wheezed. Even then, you couldn’t bring yourself to meet the gaze of Captain Aizen to confirm if this was really happening or just an extremely realistic and vivid nightmare. The sight you might be greeted with could be more frightening than the actual impaling of his sword.

As if his betrayal couldn’t actually or figuratively cut you any deeper, just then there was a noise that grew louder and louder within a matter of seconds until it was almost deafening. You’ve distinguished it to be the sound of glass crackling.

Your surroundings formed cracks everywhere on its surface, like it was just an oversized window. Even on the grass you stood on, or what you thought was grass, began to crumble away.

A dumbfounded but panicked look was plastered on your face when your world literally shattered around you, the only remnants of it being you and the Captain.

What was underneath the mirage━ or you should say, the fact that it was a mirage at all━ only disturbed you and increased your perplexity.

Slightly hunched over and breathing heavily, it took a minute to process where you were, but you noticed that now the two of you stood in a formal room that looked like it was used for important meetings. The lights in the room slowly started to brighten, most likely due to motion sensors. Even with Aizen's scent lingering in your nose, you could still pick out a rather stale aroma that hung in the air like dead fruit that hadn't fallen off the tree.

"Is . . . this Cen . . . tral━ "

"You are correct. Where we currently stand is the assembly hall for Central 46, the judicial power of the Soul Society. All judiciary as well as legislative trials and proceedings are held here."

All around the room were seats with partitions, the kanji for 1 through 46 printed on them. In the seat for the 19th member, your gaze caught onto something on the translucent barrier. It was a little farther up so you had to squint your already blurring vision to see it properly.

You saw, and your heart promptly sank as a result, eyes widening once more.

There were splatters of a dark colored substance on the partition━ undeniably blood. And the lithe, bony fingers of an older man laid lifeless, peeking out from the side of the screen like the appendages themselves were trying to escape from the body they were attached to.

That man . . . was dead. That stale aroma you smelt was the stench of death.

It was only after that unsettling epiphany did your eyes dart frantically around the room and realize that every member of Central 46 was dead.

The disturbed expression on your face only intensified as your stare was pulled back down to where Aizen's blade still resided in your body.

" Cap.....Aizen," you uttered, swift to correct yourself. All the moisture in your throat dried up like water underneath the unrelenting rays of the sun. You kept gulping your saliva in an attempt to assuage the sensation, but relief only last for a fleeting few seconds. "Did you ━ you killed them . . . didn't you?" Your question was laced with shaky hesitance and swelled with apprehension, fearing that you already knew his reply even before he answered.

There was a moment of silence and a hum before he replied. "Smart girl."

The muted mirthful tone in his voice sounded like sarcasm, and it was enough to finally draw your attention away from everything else and directly look at him. Almost instantly, you regretted it.

His umber tinted gaze was colder than you remembered. You couldn't find anything in his eyes that hinted that all of this was just a big misunderstanding, or a dream, or that Aizen had a secret sense dark and complex humor.

This was your first, and apparently your last time, that you have ever felt a fear such as this. Your mind was struggling to comprehend this was the same Aizen that spoke with you so gently, full of encouragement and wisdom. The same man that recommended you books to read and gifted you tea to drink and gazed upon you like . . .

Well, none of that mattered now. In this moment, Sōsuke Aizen wasn't the same man anymore. This Sōsuke Aizen was someone else, and it frightened you.

"When?" you croaked, your voice no longer sounding like your own. Nothing felt real anymore. "W-When did you . . . . . how? Why?"

Another noncommittal hum resounded from the spectacled man as he closed his eyes, feigning the action of thinking of an answer. When he reopened them, his narrow gaze returned to you.

"Everyone in the Thirteen Court Guard Squads was previously aware that the ability of my zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu, allowed me to confuse the enemy using bodies of water, mist and even moisture in the air in order to attack. However, that is not my zanpakuto's actual power; there is more to it than just simple confusion. Kyoka Suigetsu's true power is Complete Hypnosis. Essentially, when someone looks at my blade, I am then able to take control of that person’s five senses, causing them to believe that something is real ━ or that something isn't real. In a way, once glancing at my unsheathed zanpakuto, that person forfeits their sense of existence to me. Kyoka Suigetsu is quite flawless in its deceptive abilities."

A heavy silence, aside from your uneven breaths, endured in the space between both of you. You didn't need him to spell out what he was trying to say.

It was all . . . . an illusion. A convoluted, premeditated illusion. And you walked right into it without even knowing or considering, that it was all fake.

The Fifth Division Captain inwardly smiled at the despair clearly written on your face as he watched you mentally put the pieces together. He took your lack of reply as a sign to continue. "The members of Central 46 have unfortunately been dead for quite some time now. And as for your question of why......"

The taller man stepped towards you which inadvertently (or purposely, you began to fear), drove his sword deeper into your abdomen without warning and slight force. You bit down on your bottom lip hard to stifle your exclamation of pain. In an attempt to somehow resist him, with the little strength you had left, your hands automatically took purchase in his oversized sleeves, but it did nothing. You found it ironic that you could feel how warm Aizen was underneath his robes, but his soul was anything but.

" . . . . I believe I already mentioned it earlier, yes? All flowers die eventually and the weeds......must be removed."

At that moment you remembered that tugging sensation that told you something felt off in some instances whenever you talked with Aizen. This must have been what it was. Damn it all. You still didn't understand exactly what bad things Central 46 and the Soul Society have done to cause his actions, but based on what you've been told and your current position, it must have been heinous. Again, you actively swallowed the urge to vomit.

"You . . . you lied. I can't believe━ how could it have all b-been a lie?" Another nasty cough rattled your body, followed by a shiver and a groan.

The brown-haired man slightly tilted his head, like he was truly confused. "Lied? Hmm, well. I suppose you could put it that way based on your limited knowledge of the circumstances, but I wouldn't put it that way. Besides, this isn't really about truth or lies. It is, and always has been, only about the reality of what is. And what is, is that you were unable to anticipate my deception. No one could, because it was outside the domain of your thoughts. What is, is that the current way the Soul Society operates is tainted, and I shall be the one to remedy it."

You drew another shuddering breath and looked down at the ground with a grim expression as your blood continued to pool at your feet. Briefly, you even considered unsheathing yourself from his blade and take the chance to make a run for it, but the chances of you making it to the outside world, let alone coming across someone before you bled out and died were slim. Besides, it was clear that you couldn't even trust your own senses anymore after Aizen demonstrated that he had complete control of your reality.

Which reminded you of something else.

" . . . when?" you asked the same question again, but much quieter than before, despair palpable in your voice. 'When and how did you subject me to your zanpakuto's Complete Hypnosis?', is what you were really asking. And being as intelligent as he was, the spectacled man understood.

Abruptly, with a large palm on the small of your back, Aizen used his gentle hold grip to pull you towards him in order to close the remaining distance, causing him to drive the remaining length of his zanpakuto all the way through until the tsuba of his blade rested against your stomach. You looked like a skewered piece of meat.

You didn't have the willpower to hold back the piercing shriek of agony and physical anguish as tears sprung forth from your eyes. You could no longer tell if your blurry vision was due to your tears obstructing your sight or if it was from being a step away from death's door.

"Do you remember . . . the first time we met?"

The hand that rested on your lower back slowly glided upwards until his fingers found your jaw. With a tenderness that reminded you of a time before his betrayal, he lifted your chin and guided your gaze to look at him directly. His thumb moved to graze your bottom lip just as you've done mere hours ago━ as if he knew that, as if he watched you do it. His thumb was dangerously close to slipping inside your mouth and that both excited and scared you. Your breasts against his, your breaths synchronized with his, your body and his were fully pressed against each other and it made focusing on his question more difficult.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The first time . . . we met? Sure, with a little bit of effort you could easily recall the first time you formally met Aizen. It was sometime in the spring, and you remembered him running through combat formations with his lieutenant and the rest of his squad. But why d━

A silent gasp left you. Another epiphany, another figurative blade piercing your heart.

Battle formations, and he . . . offered you to join them . . . his zanpakuto . . . . .

Confusion crumbled away, and was replaced with vacant horror and sadness. It seems you've already been defeated, for many, many years now.

Aizen seemed to murmur something under his breath, a pleased sound you couldn't quite decipher. His mouth brushed over yours, rendering you literally speechless, before he closed the distance and brought your lips together. You could barely process what was happening.

It was ironically tragic how soft and skillfully gentle his lips were against yours. The kiss felt longing, like a departure between two sweethearts and their last meeting together. It also felt heavy and final, making you want to cry.

And you did. Silent tears streamed from your eyes and rolled onto the fingers that still held your face so affectionately. The captain reacted by guiding your chin up a little further, dipping his head a little lower, so he could deepen the kiss. You weakly scorned yourself for thinking about how the two of you must really look like lovers now, sans the sword sticking out from your back.

Oh, how cruel this was; how cruel he was. It was cruel for him to kiss you like this, hand still splayed on your back like he needed to touch you stay sane. And how cruel it was that still managed to enjoy it, even as you stood there dying. Your lips moved together in tandem, slow and almost passionate, all while tears stained the apples of your cheeks, drying up the plush youth that once resided in them.

Aizen's tongue had slithered its way into your mouth, and you suddenly felt like crying harder. There was a tart, sweet flavor lingering on his tastebuds, and you absently wondered what is was. Perhaps hibiscus from tea, you surmised. And he too tasted the sweet jasmine and citrus that clung your tongue and lips. At this, he chuckled quietly into your mouth, humming before retracting from you by a few inches so he could speak.

"I knew you would like the tea. It's sweet and flavorful, isn't it?" You hated how low his voice was, how its timbre pleasurably vibrated and rumbled against your lips, and you hated that lidded stare he gave you. You again thought it unfair that you couldn't even revel in the rare sight of Aizen's lips slightly wet because your lips were intertwined with his.

"I have to thank you for humoring me and my recommendations. I really appreciated it. And I also," you winced loudly and cried out in affliction as Aizen finally began to withdraw the sword from your body, "must to bid you farewell now. It seems you don't have any more time left, and this has dragged on for longer than it needed. I'm not surprised you've held out for this long, as I already knew you possessed commendable strength. But alas it wasn't enough. I am sorry that you have to die; it's rather regrettable that you happened to be that blade of grass that ended up underneath my foot."

Another wail was yanked from your chest as he steadily removed his sword from your abdomen. The pain was becoming excruciating, you would have collapsed by now if the taller man weren't holding you.

You saw two things before the light in your eyes had all but faded away. The first were the colors of faux pity and apathy that swirled in Sōsuke Aizen's irises, spiraling like a storm that was certain to wreak havoc in its wake. His gaze was devoid of any regret or remorse; the final metaphorical nail on the coffin. The second was a small smile.

But this wasn't one of his smiles you were familiar with. No wait . . . . the one you knew was simply a veneer of what is.

This smile was slanted, the corners of his lips tilted upwards and was sharp. Sharp enough to cut open your already gaping wound further and completely tear you apart, spelling out your demise. It looked insidious as if it were hiding razor-edged fangs. This was what is; Aizen's real smile.

"I. . . I see. Aize. . . ." were the last words you were able to manage. You didn't have the strength to be upset or hurt any longer, so you gave in to the exhaustion.

Your body permanently relaxed, long lashes veiling your now empty eyes as your arms lifelessly dropped to your sides. The captain found a disturbing amount of pleasure in his name being the final word you attempted to speak before succumbing to the sleep of death.

And even after the fact, the facade of doomed, star-crossed lovers persisted as your body slumped backwards. Aizen's strong forearm wrapped tightly around your waist being the only reason you didn't fall to the ground in a puddle of your own blood.

That day was the last anyone saw of you, your zanpakuto still laid idly in your room, its spirit destined to forever wander in the afterlife between worlds alone, eventually fading from existence without ever feeling the presence of its master again.

They had declared you missing by the end of the next day. Lieutenant Hisagi was probably the most perturbed about your sudden disappearance. Days, weeks passed, and they never located you. The Gotei 13 was left unsettled by the lack of progress, but ultimately had to rule your case inconclusive. Some believed that you were simply killed by a stray hollow, or even ran away from your duties because of the stress.

The news of what happened spread like wildfire across all the squads, that a high-ranked officer just up and vanished without a trace. The spirits and morale of the thirteen companies dampened, sorrow and worry swelling like a festering boil.

And that boil burst when Ryoka infiltrated the Soul Society, and when it was revealed that all of it was carefully orchestrated by Sōsuke Aizen.

Like a blade of grass that somehow snuck into one's sandals or in between their toes, during his time in Hueco Mundo, images of you flashed in his head at unexpected times when his mind was quiet. He'd remove the grass, tossed you aside, and moved on with his day. There was no room for you in the grand scheme of things. Such reminisces were beneath someone like him.

And yet.

He'd always find another piece of grass from the greenery he stepped on whenever he advanced a step in his plans. There you were again.

It was common knowledge that if you kept repeating the same action over and over, it will eventually wear you down.

━━━━━━ 鏡  ━━━━━━━

It was dark, and there was nothing.

There had been nothing for quite a long time now. Utter darkness and the abyssal shade of black engulfed every inch of Aizen's body and surroundings.

He saw nothing, the seals over his eyes too opaque to let anything through. And even if they weren't obscuring his vision, he would barely be able to see three feet in front of him; there was seldom a few lanterns in his cell to begin with. He felt nothing but the bindings that kept him imprisoned in one of the deepest pits of the Seireitei. At times it felt like even his internal organs had stilled in their functions. He heard nothing but the unrelenting quiet of his cell within Mugen's maw. The only thing that served as proof that he hasn't spontaneously grown deaf yet was the occasional muffled noise that originated from outside of the entrance. And even then, he could hardly hear much of anything.

Such is an ironic fate for someone who, with a stray thought and a glint of his blade, could control someone's senses and take away their free will to experience those senses in their reality. And now, he was stripped away of all of his in nearly every capacity.

Sōsuke Aizen was rendered stationary and stagnant, qualities he detested and were the antithesis of his ambitions and plans, perhaps even his existence.

Aizen had always believed in being in control of your own destiny and making your own choices; if you had the opportunity and the power to change something━ especially if it was something that was wrong, unfair or immoral━ then one should be able to move towards that goal by making change, even if by force. The former captain had always been intentional about his actions and his desires right from the start.

And yet, here he ended up.

Spending years strapped to a chair in this dark, cloistered hole, Aizen had nothing but time to reflect the reason for his arrest: that orange haired Ryoka boy, Ichigo Kurosaki. He had nothing but time to admit to himself and settle on the conclusion that his last battle with the substitute Shinigami . . . did something to him.

Fighting the Ryoka boy ignited something inside him that he previously believed would forever lay dormant.

The thrill of a challenge.

Adrenaline was injected into his veins with each clash of their swords, spreading far and wide across every inch of his body. It no longer reacted in the measured, calculative manner he had programmed it to, but with unadulterated, pure instinct and raw power━ all in an effort to not only withstand such potent spirit energy from his opponent, but to come out on top and win.

It made him feel alive.

Aizen's desire to be the victor in battle and in his philosophy━ to prove himself right━ both fueled him and consumed him so thoroughly it led to his own downfall. That was a rather difficult fact to acknowledge; so much so his head started to pulsate intensely whenever it crossed his mind one time too often.

All of it unfolded right in front of his eyes and yet . . . he didn't really see it happen.

As time passed during his perpetual incarceration, with hooded eyes, the former captain spent an unfathomable amount of time tossing and turning every single event that led him to this underground prison, even pondering his temporary release by the Head Captain Kyōraku to fight in the war. Scenarios both minor and significant displayed itself in front of his mind's eye as if he were watching a film.

Every so often, a blurred visage of your image would make a brief appearance, like the flickering sparks of a match before they were able to come to light, fading away into the void and were overshadowed by his other thoughts. It was as if his own consciousness and intentionally muted any manifestations of your existence in his memories. As if he wasn't able to or allowed to see them━ to remember you for too long.

Mentally reliving moments from the last several months, years, decades, centuries━ trying to analyze each moment and decipher where it could have went wrong━ turned out to be quite an exhausting task. His mind and body would grow heavier with inertia, and eventually he would succumb to the alluring pull of slumber. After some time he would rouse from his sleep, and continued from where he left off.

These were his daily activities day in and day out (even though he had trouble distinguishing day and night in his chambers) for years. He saw a positive side to it though. He'd instead think of it has him getting stronger because he had spent so long . . . thinking. Ruminating. Contemplating every possibility in the past, present, and future. His mind would become as sharp as his zanpakuto.

Aizen had always been intentional about what he did, what he said, and how he conducted himself. He was sure in his abilities to orchestrate an image━ a belief for others to have faith in, and act on it in order to further his goals. He was always sure in that image, knowing who he was and what he stood for.

Or at least, that's what he thought.

Aizen wasn't consciously aware that his certainty in this crafted image had already begun to waver. He could not and was unable to anticipate how severe these small fractures had become until after a certain lieutenant paid him a visit outside his cell of confinement, right before he was scheduled to be thrown back into that dark hole of the Mugen.

Lieutenant Shuhei Hisagi was quite emotive when he burst through the doors. His expressions were contorted in volatile mixture of frustration, anger and sadness. His emotions were every which way, directed at everything that has happened so far, including himself. He was especially emotive at Aizen specifically for what he did to former captain Kaname Tosen and 'corrupting him with his twisted ideals.'

Aizen found amusement in that.

Before he was rolled away by the punishment force and therefore out of earshot, a particular set of Hisagi's words caused the small, content smile on his lips to uncurl ever so slightly. "Everything . . . and everyone that has ever gotten themselves involved with you has been trampled on by you and your ideals one way or another, and they all end up dead. If you think what you did to Captain Tosen was justified━ to call it mercy . . . . . then there is truly no justice in this world. You will . . . forever be the enemy in my eyes."

There was a trembling anger in his voice. Pain that wanted to cry out and be set free but, the thin lid of reason prevented it from doing so. And after a moment of silence, the corners of Aizen's lips curved upwards once more. A little bemused, a little more wolfish this time. He maliciously imagined Hisagi's reaction if he ever discovered the true reason for your disappearance.

But instead, all he said was. "What an interesting thing to say, Shuhei Hisagi. Your conviction is admirable." Any evidence of emotion that might have been reflected in his sepia irises was swallowed up and obscured by the darkness of the Mugen's jaw.

The cracks in Aizen's sense of self, in his beliefs, in the image he invented started to cave under the weight of Hisagi's words before he himself realized it was happening. They were like stains in the fabric of his mind that refused to come out.

What puzzled him more, was that with each attempt to figure out just why Hisagi's words echoed in his mind, they all lead back to you, the third seat of the 9th squad. Annoyingly so.

The tattooed lieutenant hadn’t said anything particularly profound ━ at least, Aizen didn't think so. Your name didn’t even fall from his lips. So why were memories of you and your likeness the only clear thoughts he could make of Hisagi's speech? Was it because he was aware of how close the two of you were? He doubted the reason were that trivial and insignificant.

His thoughts grew more discordant by the day, his soul a little more weighted than usual. Perhaps these new seals that Urahara had fashioned actually had an effect on him, Aizen thought. It made sense. His intellect, other than his own, were the only ones capable of creating such effective restraints.

After a while, he had a revelation. This was a different kind of weight.

This heaviness, the closest word he knew to describe it as . . . . was loneliness.

Time taunted him as it seemed to drag on━ Aizen grew even less sure of how much━ when he came to this realization. Hisagi's words were a clear mirror to the loneliness that echoed within him after what happened to you and to Tosen. It was so . . . potent, that it seemed to strike some chord in Aizen he had never heard before.

Such a chord, this sound of loneliness, it was strange and uncomfortable; he wasn't very fond of this sensation. He'd try to scrub it away, but it was all for naught.

His eyes had slid shut at some point, his ruminations leading to dead ends and wearing him down. And, almost as expected, there you were again, in all your translucent glory. The hem, the sleeves, and even the smell of your yukata slowly dragged across his dreams, haunting his thoughts like a lonely wraith.

And Aizen hardly dreamt of anything.

When he regained consciousness he was plagued with yet another epiphany. An additional reason behind this newfound depth.

Aizen's own loneliness. Guilt. Much to his own quiet horror.

How foreign and unusual a thing like guilt is. It was like looking into a mirror and not recognizing something you had never noticed before, but wondered if it had always been there.

But the thing Aizen did recognize, how lonely he actually felt, was something he had hoped would never resurface again. It was a notion he hadn't had the time or regard to consider━ 'loneliness'. Its only purpose, if any, was solely to serve as a motivator. At times though, it was more like a hindrance.

Something akin to nausea slowly started to bubble up in the pit of his stomach, but he suppressed the sensation before it became any more intense.

What of his previous actions did he need to feel guilty for? He hadn't felt it then, so why would he feel it now? Again he ruminated such a question endlessly into oblivion.

The former captain had no doubts that his plan to remove the Soul King, and therefore the Soul Society's sins, were necessary.

Nor did any hesitancy about removing the opposition or dead weight━ whether shinigami or arrancar━ existed.

He certainly had no reservations against killing Kaname Tosen, for he knew the man well enough to know that Tosen would have been so thoroughly appalled with what he had become, it would have drove him mad.

So what was it, then? Why were such useless emotions as guilt and loneliness being amplified n━

"Y....know, S....."

Even covered by the seals, Aizen's eyes widened and his brows were slightly furrowed in distress. Had his mind finally tipped the scales of sanity and madness, to the point where he was hearing things?

It was quiet for several moments longer, before his senses caught onto the sound of water dripping onto a hard surface.

One drop at a time.

Its cadence a little too rhythmic to be natural. And for a second time, he heard that soft, ominous sounding whisper. Its voice a little clearer this time.

"You...know.....Sōsuke."

In the second it took for his eyes to flutter shut behind its seals to blink, when he reopened them, he was no longer sealed to the walls and floors of the Mugen, nor was he surrounded by every shade of darkness imaginable. His limbs and senses were finally freed to breathe for the first time in what felt like ages.

That relief was short-lived when his senses absorbed the unending landscape of water underneath his feet, water lilies lifelessly floating on its surface, and the dim sky illuminated by a full pale moon.

Aizen was in his inner world, and now he was aware of how he got here, or rather who brought him here.

"You . . . already know the answer to that question, Sōsuke." The voice was even more clear, its sentences more comprehensible. And it sounded it eerily like you.

Why the voice was impersonating your likeness had caught him off guard for half a second, but he realized it was only the work of his zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu.

An illusion it may be, there was an untouchable quality about your voice and how you spoke that even Kyoka Suigetsu couldn't replicate.

A few feet away from him, the water was disturbed by a being emerging from the depths. Ripples formed around a manifested version of his zanpakuto, who took the form of you, smiling ever so gently. The smile felt airy, and it didn't seem like the same one that haunted his dreams and every waking thought as of late. It felt....knowing.

Still, the former captain couldn't be bothered to maintain eye contact with his sword spirit, so he turned around and opted to keep his unreadable stare trained on the vast expanse of water and white lilies.

"It's been quite a while since I have stepped foot into this realm. There must be something you want . . . Kyoka."

The zanpakuto chuckled, it sounded like the way you would softly laugh at one of his clever quips. But this wasn't you.

He didn’t want to admit that something about that fact didn’t sit right with him.

"Judging from your tone, would I be correct in assuming you don't want to be here?"

Silence rang out within the soul scape, before Aizen interrupted it, his gentle voice colored a shade darker, and a little rigid. "And I fail to see the reason why you must take that form when you revealed yourself to me. Is your aim to get a reaction out of me? Or something along those lines?"

Your eyes━ the eyes of Kyoka Suigetsu━ narrowed at its master's back, as if they were trying to create concavities in his skull. But the expression was washed away the moment it appeared, the serene smile from before was back in place.

"You know . . . it's considered quite rude to not look at someone when you're addressing them. That, and when you deliberately ignore things they say. Your manners have been deteriorating, Sōsuke. Tsk, tsk."

Kyoka-dressed-as-you suddenly appeared before him, as if they had teleported. Even when they were in his peripheral vision, Aizen still maintained his stare off into the distant nothingness.

"Unless, you can't find it in yourself to look at me. . . that's correct, isn't it? It's because I look exactly like her, right?" The zanpakuto continued to provoke him, taking a step closer into his personal space.

With an exasperated sigh, his eyelids fell shut for a second, using that time to gather the strength he didn't know he needed, and directed his gaze to meet his spirit's. Aizen's face gave nothing away, but his heart lurched about his chest when his bronze eyes met with yours, or what was made to look like yours. The undesired affect it had on him was all the same.

"If you wish to chastise me about manners, I suggest you take your own advice. You didn't answer my first question, either: what is it you want? Why am I here?" Again the former captain chose to not address the other parts of Kyoka's statement. For the sake of his sanity and his thinning patience━ or was it to preserve his resolve?

Its smile widened a bit, moving another step closer to their master. God, Kyoka even smelled like you, mimicking your signature honeyed scent that Aizen didn't realize he found so intoxicating until this very moment.

"I called you here to save you from yourself."

Aizen remained silent, only narrowing his eyes in speculation. "Meaning?"

"Didn't I already say it earlier? I think you already know what I'm talking about, Sōsuke. You've always known."

Fate's pairing of Kyoka Suigetsu with Aizen was a match crafted from the spindles of heaven, but also a maddening curse pulled from the depths of hell, for they complimented each other a little too well. The zanpakuto was too perfect a reflection of Aizen and his soul, looking at it started to hurt his eyes.

His sword spirit insisted that he already knew the reason for his coming here, and perhaps he did have an inkling the moment the light of epiphany was shone on his profound loneliness and guilt. But that couldn't have been what it was referring to . . . . could it?

"You cannot feign ignorance here, my dear Sōsuke, however I do find it rather humorous you bother trying. If you'd like, I don't mind humoring you by spelling it out for you. I'd be glad to unearth the truth that you have buried in the most neglected corner of your heart."

"When you were . . . . subjecting yourself to such mental torment, it had an affect on this world as well. The ripples, the waves in this scape become quite . . . tumultuous." The nuances in your voice were perfected by his zanpakuto, but the way it talked sounded like a fog that was gradually closing in from over the horizon. The uneasy feeling that resided in his chest traveled down to his stomach, but Aizen's face remained steely, even when Kyoka Suigetsu took that final step to close the gap in between them. "And the reason for that, the reason why Hisagi's words rattled you so is because you regret killing that woman."

The creased line in Aizen's brow grew more prominent as he stared down his sentient sword spirit. With its breast pressed against his, they placed a hand on his clothed chest in a tantalizing manner, but he felt nothing. There was no warmth from its palm, much unlike when your hand touched him. There wasn't even a cool sensation either. Even minutes before your death, your touch brought a soothing heat that permeated through his shihakusho and penetrated his skin.

Kyoka's face grew nearer, their smile━ although still tender looking━ grew cold at its edges, nearly resembling that of a predator eager to see despair reflected in the eyes of its prey. It didn't fit the graceful allure of your face at all, and seeing this expression deeply unsettled the former captain more than he would like to admit.

"You regret . . . killing me."

A chill tore through Aizen's body, the weight of Kyoka's words adding onto the heaviness that still hasn't been alleviated from his heart; he was hardly able to suppress the involuntary shiver.

Without warning, Kyoka's mouth suddenly became dangerously close to their master's, its lips brushing against his in a provocative manner. Aizen's expression darkened when he realized that it was reenacting his last encounter with you when you were alive. His mouth started to grow uncomfortably dry, despite his soul scape being full of moisture, and there was a taste on the back of his tongue that's been lingering there since he arrived.

The lilt in Kyoka's tone continued to taunt him. "That is the reason for your guilt: regret. You have been in denial. And in the spirit of unearthing truths, I suppose I can admit that perhaps . . . . I've been . . . . encouraging said delusions, adding drops of fuel into the flames of your emotions and ambitions. But after all that's happened, when it comes down to it there's no point in continuing this hallucination any longer. I've grown tired of this game, so it's time to for you wake up now, Sōsuke. I've brought you here to release you from your own illusion, to completely shatter it."

Aizen's back was as stiff as a board, not moving a millimeter when Kyoka's lips grazed his again. They were breathing softly onto his mouth, but he hardly felt any puffs of air.

The former captain was having a rather difficult time processing the fact that his zanpakuto had its own agenda and had been manipulating his emotions without him noticing. Specifically the emotions he felt towards you.

He never truly believed that such a thing was possible, one's own blade having such a deep-rooted influence━ no, control over their master. Or would it be more accurate to say that he never expected himself to be controlled to such a degree? He that prided himself on being freed from the marionette strings of fate that were tied to his limbs and mind, he that relished being able to do what he wanted, think what he wanted, feel what he wanted━ or what he didn't want━ it was hard to believe that none of that mattered in the end.

Kyoka Suigetsu's deceptive abilities were indeed undeniably perfect. No one, not even Aizen himself could have anticipated that Kyoka's most absolute and complete hypnosis would be enacted on himself.

"Do you know now, Sōsuke? Do you understand?" Kyoka's voice was as soft as a whisper, but it couldn't hide the edges of its tone that were still sharpened from finding amusement of seeing the truth flash across its master's face. "You had destroyed the solution to your existential question of loneliness, before you could fully understand the question itself."

Yes . . . . . Aizen understood now.

He didn't bother acknowledging what Kyoka had said. His grim facial expression━ still, tinged with dolor, and paired with an indescribable, distant look his eyes━ said all that it needed to. His silence was as much as an admission as any.

Kyoka-dressed-as-you leaned forward again to fully close the gap between their lips and Aizen's. Tenderly, like the intentions of a lover, it spoke against his nearly closed mouth. "Have you figured it out yet?"

Nothing but quiet could be heard between them, as Kyoka's mouth moved about their master's face and placed something like kisses upon its surface, but not quite.

Aizen's cocoa-shaded eyes slide down to stare at his sword spirit pressed up against him. His gaze was hard, and yet something swam underneath its surface that his zanpakuto had never seen before. Melancholy, it guessed? They weren't quite sure.

Kyoka pressed on when Aizen remained quiet. "The taste in the back of your mouth. Have you figured out what it was? You know it quite well....."

Aizen's tongue grazed the roof of his mouth, sensing the rather unpleasant taste that has coated the inside of it. And within a moment, because he was faced with the current circumstances, Aizen had finally placed a name associated this particular taste. How unfortunate this was.

Upon his realization, Aizen's head lowered, and his brown tresses hung freely over his lashes. Perhaps it was so Kyoka couldn't properly see whatever remorseful expression painted their master's face, but it mattered not. Even from here, the sword spirit could already sense exactly what it was he was feeling.

And they loved it.

"It's a sweet and flavorful taste, isn't it? Quite lovely." Kyoka Suigetsu mimicked the exact words he uttered against your lips all those years ago when he tasted jasmine tea on your tongue, and sealed your death with a kiss. "It's too bad you don't seem to enjoy it anymore."

Aizen's chest continued to rise and fall calmly, and the hands of his sword spirit that rested there glided upwards to cup his strong jaw, caressing his skin with its thumb. Its phantasmic touch did nothing to stir their master.

"Sōsuke, do you know what the jasmine flower from that tea symbolizes?"

Aizen's lips were slightly parted, but again he didn't say anything. Instead, its corners twitched and lifted upwards by an inch, and he huffed softly.

Kyoka Suigetsu grinned in reply. "Good."

The next time Aizen blinked, he was plunged in darkness yet again. The restrictive feeling that swallowed his being whole had returned, and was an indicator that his zanpakuto had released him from his inner world. He was consciously back in the Mugen, back in this abyss they called a prison cell.

Kyoka was indeed as much as a formidable force in its own right, as much as, if not greater than Aizen himself.

The conversation he had with his sword spirit would be cemented in his head for all eternity. When he grew senile and began to physically wither away, the one thing that would remain vital like a young heart, was this epiphany that he had. This realization that he actually . . . .

As the chains of despair bound him tighter to the bottom of the metaphorical pit, regret and his loneliness corroding his flesh and spirit like metal exposed to moisture, a stray memory of his time in Hueco Mundo flashed in his mind. He recalled having tea prepared for meetings with his Espadas and he could not pinpoint when, but at some point, Aizen developed an aversion for jasmine flavored tea. For one reason or another, he no longer found its taste appealing; whenever he drank it, it always tasted bitter.

Now that reason had become painstakingly clear.

The binding on his mouth muffled a rueful chuckle at the though, and it trapped the flavor of jasmine on his lips.

(#) @soaringmirror @stygianoir @ryukenzz @blkjupiters @chrissie2003 @nymphoheretic @dejwrld @triangularz @souyaszn @kuujo @honeybleed @valentineluvu . let me know if you’d like to be apart of my tag list ♡♡.

[midniiights-garden]

Mizu realising she's in love/a lesbian [Headcanons!!]

(A/N: I feel like this is like... already a given but please remember that these are HEADCANONS!! She does not have a canon sexuality. And I know it's mostly the lesbians who haven taken over the show but my content is available for everyone to see and I wanted to remind everyone that I am not going to tolerate slander or trash talking because of a personal opinion. You are entitled to your thoughts and I am entitled to mine.)

Possible TWs!!: Mentions of sex and sexual encounters, M*kio (you cannot stop me from putting this man as a warning I hate him sm), Canon typical violence, Racisim, Homophobia, Mysogyny (did I spell that right??)

Firstly I wanna address her relationship with Mikio in order to fully understand my headcanons.

Personally I do not believe that Mizu actually "loved" Mikio in the romantic sense. She thought she was in love, but in the end it wasn't.

Speaking as someone with a lot of personal trauma regarding relationships myself I realised that I couldn't differentiate between romantic and platonic love. Basically, for me, all I saw was that someone was treating me nicely for once and now I'm attached to them. And for the longest time I thought that was what love was.

And I think Mizu experienced something similar.

Basically, when Mikio treated her like a fucking human being she was like "oh, hey this is nice. This is weird, but it's nice. So I guess I'm in love, right?"

Like, no, baby. You aren't. That's just called emotional trauma.

That's also why she thought she was straight for the longest time because she genuinely cannot tell when she likes someone romantically.

As I often restate it'll take a while for her to fully understand the extent of her emotions, but she'll get there.

Now onto the fluffier stuff :))

~~~

How does she realise she's in love? What's her reaction to it?

I think she gets hit with the realisation as if it were a train crashing into her.

It's just a normal evening, she's probably at a ramen shop with her future S/O with her and then as she's taking a bite of her ramen she looks over at you and thinks: "Huh... I wonder what it would be like if I got to hold them?"

And then it's just a record scratch moment for her where she's like wtf where did that come from.

It's either just normal domestic moment like I mentioned or her future S/O sparring with her (which may or not freak her out bc of the fucking Mikio incident).

But when Mizu successfully pins her S/O down they just laugh and smile, knowing Mizu would never hurt them on purpose.

That made Mizu's heart flutter more than anything Mikio had ever done for her.

She's going to be in denial about it for a long time. Like... a really, really long time. Cue the "but we're just friends"!

How does she react when she realises she's into girls?

Due to the internalized homophobia instilled within her as a child and other such thoughts she starts to think she may be going crazy.

She'll start to pull away out of fear, not truly understanding her emotions.

Which, of course, will hurt her future S/O and cause them to worry.

Seeing her future S/O so distraught kind of triggers something in her. She realises that there's nothing inherently wrong with her, that she's still a person and the person she likes is still a person and that there shouldn't be anything wrong with liking her S/O. She also just didn't like seeing you worry over her, it hurt her more than any blade that she's been stabbed with.

Now onto her actual physical attraction.

Once the whole emotional side of it is somewhat sorted in her mind she finds herself not so subtly staring at her S/O's tatas.

She doesn't strike me as someone with high libido or anything despite what I've seen a lot of headcanons say. But I think shes the kind of lover to enjoy getting her S/O off a lottttt

I don't believe she was ever really attracted to Mikio sexually but seeing her S/O's kimono slip off their shoulder to reveal some titty has her red and hot.

She likes that it's soft. She really likes the softness of her S/O's body.

~~~

(A/N: That's all!! I feel like I was terribly self-indulgent with this one but there are a lot of aspects in which I relate to Mizu with. Which is probably why I care a lot about representing her correctly. As usual, feel free to comment or send asks to my inbox!! I hope y'all enjoyed <33)

[starwarsanthropology]

Canon genders the clones, both individually and collectively, pretty aggressively. They're men, brothers, boys, sirs. Omega is notable for being the "female" clone, to the point where she's not recognized as a clone in a meaningful way.

But the clones grew up without gendered social groups! Despite how clones are gendered by external factors, gender is functionally a nonentity in their lives until they meet civilians, and civilians do a load of other weird shit anyway.

So why do they still use gendered language?

My argument is that feminine language isn't used as a gendered form of address, but as a form of address that reflects a specific kind of power dynamic and relationship between parties.

Given the structure of the clone army, the only people a vast majority of young clones interact with who could insist on being called ma'am are exclusively kaminoans.

The kaminoans view clones not as autonomous subjects, but as property. They have and expect complete control over their lives and actions. Incidentally, the female kaminoans we see (such as Nala Se) tend to demonstrate an even more proprietary perspectives on the clones.

You can question a sir, like your superiors or trainers, at your discretion, but you can't question a ma'am. A sir is someone who has power over you, but is somewhat responsible for you. The have personal accountability to you in some way. Sirs are responsible for men under them. A ma'am is someone whose power over you is absolute, an authority without accountability, who is not beholden to you but that you must obey. You are tool or a number to a ma'am.

And when you bring clones out into the wider galaxy, I'm not sure anyone would figure it out that quickly.

Say you're a new jedi general. You meet your men, and they address you as "ma'am". Maybe you correct and move on, figuring that they've grown up surrounded by thousands of identical men and aren't great at guessing genders based on social and appearance cues. Scuttlebutt has your forms of address spread through the men by the end of the day, and you don't think about it again.

The clones, on the other hand, take this correction as he/him jedi stating that they want to work with them and suppourt them despite having so much power over them, which fits with both what they know of the jedi and, most often, their leadership style.

She/her jedi (see Shaak Ti especially!), clones maybe treat a little more as absolute authorities. This gendered divide in behavior gets met with, "hm, maybe they're just not used to women." For many jedi, they eventually switch to calling them sir as well, especially as they build rapport.

For Shaak Ti specifically, she is an absolute authority as the representative of the Jedi on Kamino, not just as a figurehead but as a decision maker and educator. Even as the clones grow to trust and love her, she's a relatively distant and all-powered figure. She has near total authority over them, and clones might ask for help or suppourt, but there's no social obligation for those requests to be met, she's just kind. It's compassion, not duty.

Senators, there's a good mix of different factors that make it confusing. "Senator" is always an acceptable form of address if you're not sure how'd they react, even if they should be ma'ams by default, but they're either trying to build rapport for some reason or genuinely want to work with you when they say to call them sir, regardless of the actual power dynamic at play. The she/her senators that respect the clones are in the same boat as Shaak Ti: Padme Amidala may care about clone rights, but I am still just one of hundreds to her and she has no personal accountability to me. Her position is such that she should not and cannot owe me anything. Same with Riyo Chuchi, Mon Mothma, etc. etc.

And a civilian that insists on being called ma'am or sir is going to be an asshole either way, and they technically have power over clones without personal accountability or responsibility for them. It works.

Finally, Palpatine.

He's a slimy rat fuck who pretends to be affable and kind, so of course he's going to laugh and say, "Oh, no, call me Sir!" when you call him ma'am. He is not personally accountable to you, and he does not care about you, but it helps his image and it helps him manipulate people to pretend, so of course he's making you use sir to build false intimacy despite the fact that he's the ma'am of ma'ams, both in power gaps and lack of accountability for his treatment of clones.

So having clones using sir vs ma'am not as a reflection of gender but as a reflection of power? Yeah, I think it works.

[suncchaser]

I can’t believe the fandom has made it so that criticising death eaters is somewhat of a crime and offensive.

In the books, death eaters were blood supremacists who wanted to create a regime that would oppress and murder muggleborn witches and wizards as well as muggles. It was a terrorist organisation, which means that every single member who joined are… guess what? Terrorists and blood supremacists. This is not speculation or opinion. This is facts. It was in the books.

Now, you can choose to ignore this and give these canonical terrorists all the sob stories you want to justify their actions, but remember that those are your personal headcanons, not facts. It’s fanon, not canon.

So, don’t camp under people’s posts who are speaking about canon versions of characters and criticising them for who they were in the books because you headcanon them as helpless baby boys.

The same way people are allowed to disregard canon to build their own perception of these characters, people are also allowed to care for who they were in the books.

[jevilowo]

Headcanon:

How much the other Mercs can understand Pyro

Scout: Not at all. Won't even try. Literally will just pretend they're on about how cool he is. It drives Pyro insane.

Soldier: Almost every single interaction goes like "mph mph" "LITTLE TIMMY FELL DOWN THE WELL?!?". Soldier can understand them perfectly like once in a blue moon bc funny.

The Other Pyro: They understand each other perfectly and discuss my little pony lore together.

Demo: Understands them well enough but only when hes like the maximum level of drunk. The rest of the time he has to guess based on their tone and body language but how good he is at that depends on how sloshed or un-sloshed he is.

Heavy: The man struggles enough with with english when spoken normally, he's pretty useless at deciphering pyrospeak. He's definitely better at the body language and tone thing than Demo tho, due to having sisters and not being drunk.

Engie: A Sans Undertale situation where most people think he understands them perfectly but he's actually just godlike at reading tone and body language, and decent enough at deciphering the mumbling. I'm pretty sure this is somewhat canon, as the only time Engie has "understood" Pyro was when they made a "nuh-uh" sort of noise which is. Obvious.

Medic: Can't understand much beyond like Yes and No and MEDIC, and is pretty mediocre at tone and body language. Usually just gets Engie to translate. Considering getting Pyro to let him attach a mouth to the outside of the suit.

Sniper: Pretty shit at tone and body language, alright at deciphering the mumbles. One of my headcanons for him was he didn't talk for years as a small child (autism), so I can picture him teaching Pyro some basic Australian sign language.

Spy: He's a spy, and therefore pretty good at deciphering Pyrospeak and tone and body language. He's not as good as Engie, which drives him up the wall.

Miss Pauling: She hasn't really had the time to get used to Pyrospeak (busy), but I can see her getting pretty good at deciphering it over time. She'd probably learn sign language off Sniper too.

Administrator: She was somehow able to understand they wanted more weapons in Meat vs Match so she understands that much at least.

Saxton Hale: That weirdo barely understands Scout. He's probably convinced Pyro is actually just a really obscure species of wilddog that evolved to use flamethrowers.

Zhanna: Same as Heavy, but gains Soldier's ability to understand them occasionally over time.

[hysteriastrikes]

THE AMAZING DIGITAL EXPLOITS !

Will you become my foe or ally for this wretched digital world?

Background:

One of Caine's 100Kth eye got malfunctions due to a "bug" thus creating as its own entity. The eye lies down on Pomni's room because the door is open. Once Pomni goes inside of the room... shenanigans happen.

CHARACTER CARDS

+ EYE

Other members couldn't see him, he is only visible to Pomni. He assists Pomni like digital manipulations. He is planning to take down Caine and help Pomni to escape. The problem is will you trust him?

Boundaries n' QnA !

1. Can I make fanart/OCs for this AU?

Yeah sure go for it! I like to see some cool stuff u guys made but errr I don't recommened fillin up the OC on my inbox ^^;

2. Can I ship other characters of ur AU?

Even tho I'm mainly a buttonblossom shipper then yep sure! The story still involves with Pomni and Ragatha which they are a partners in crime but hey I didn't say that u shouldn't ship with other characters. I'm fine with other ships as long as ya'll are respectable to one another!! Oh also OC x canon is also fine by me!

3. Can I make fanfics?

Yep! Feel free to tag me tho so I can see ur awesome work :O

4. Can I make my own interpretations for the codes and computery stuff?

Yep! Funny thing is that I'm not an IT student and I'm very unaware of all coding stuff! If you are familiar or somewhat knowledgeable on this field then yes feel free to share your interpretations!

5. Can I make some NSFW work?

Uhh- I guess? Just keep it private or to yourself,,, like even tho I'm above 18, I'm still uncomfortable with seein it

ONE MORE THING ABOUT THE STORY, THERE ARE TWO CHOICES TO MAKE:

its either A, Pomni agreed to help with EYE on taking down Caine, in exchange for freedom or escape of digital circus BUT with the price to pay...

or

B, Pomni takes advantage of EYE and cooperate with Caine to help with escaping. The problem is will Pomni ever trust Caine?

so yeah! The story is kinda complex or mushy. also some stuff are wip! such as origins and stuff so yeah feel free to fill in some plot holes!

one more thing is that feel free to ask any questions regarding about this au! anyways toodalos!

[coralinnii]

Hello! If u dont remember me I'm the person that requested the villainess au Trey x reader from a long time ago, just wanna drop in and say I really look forward to your works and hope you have a great day/night/time! Sorry for bothering you if this message ends up being a bother

‧₊˚✧ Being Reincarnated into a New World as the Bad Guy‧₊˚✧

feat: Trey

genre: slow burn, coworkers-to-something more

note: no pronouns were used for reader, reader is implied to be old enough to work, mentions of poisoning and assassination attempts, reader is somewhat emotionally constipated.

extra note: While Trey is not quite in-character as I would like, he is supposed to be younger than his canon version, so I wanted him to be more unsure and inexperienced than his future self.

I did it, I finally got this done. Praise me (don't)

Being Reincarnated as the Bad Guy aka Villain/ess AU masterlist

You don’t get paid enough for this nonsense. No, you seriously don’t.

One minute you were finally getting off a particularly bad shift at work, only to be in this strange world you don’t recognize…as a low-ranking servant to the bloody royal family!

The rules, the standards, the pretentious nobles you have to smile in fear of having your neck sliced…where’s OSHA when you need them?

At least your coworkers were decent and you’re not in charge of anything too major like waiting on the Queen or her son, unlike that young aide-in-training you see running up and down the palace…poor Sir Clover.

Not your problem, though

…Until a couple of greedy noblemen forced a vial of poison into your hands, promising you a grand reward of money and status for your compliance. They wanted you to spike the drink of the crown prince’s closest aide-in-training so they could plant their own men by his side.

With your best service smile on, you handed back the vial back.

“No ❤️”

When they try to threaten you, you kindly remind them that if they plan to drag you in the mud, you’re not above pulling them along with you.

“If I’m going down, I’m dragging everyone with me.”

Once that was over, you wanted to cleanse yourself from this ugly conspiracy. You were way too busy worrying about your own neck, and you assumed that Sir Clover was cautious over his own safety that you, a mere worker bee, have nothing to contribute.

However, you do notice that the young green-haired man seems to prioritize others over himself, and the lights to his room are often still lit until late into the night. An honest young man burdened with responsibilities; his defenses may not always be on guard…

Ugghh, what a pain in the-

“Um, excuse me?” You looked to the tall nobleman trying to capture your attention.

“Yes, Sir Clover?”

“Were you originally scheduled to work today?”

You held your urge to click your tongue. Of course, Trey would be aware of at least who was scheduled to wait on Prince Riddle and him. What an annoyingly conscientious man.

“My colleague was feeling unwell so I offered to take her place for today. I apologize for not informing you beforehand.” You bowed politely which made the bespectacled man a little flustered.

“No, I’m grateful she could take a rest. Thank you for taking up the role but please let us know next time so we can offer some medical help if needed.”

That wouldn’t be necessary, you thought as you nodded regardless. Your coworker wasn’t really sick in any way but she was more than happy to switch schedules with you.

Many of the servants are under the impression that you harbored a crush on the admittedly cute aide-in-training since you were caught glancing at his direction more often than usual. It wouldn't be surprising if your “crush” in question is also aware of the gossip, which leads to his tenseness around you. Be it kindness or hesitance, Sir Clover chose not to reprimand you for doing as you please.

“What a pain, but I guess it works in my favor anyway.”

A knock rang through the room and with Riddle’s permission, an anxious maid came in with a tray carrying a tea set, confusing everyone in the room.

It’s not time for afternoon tea yet.

“What is the meaning of this?” For someone so young, Riddle’s sharp tone ran a deadly chill down everyone’s back. “Afternoon tea is not for another 13 minutes.”

The maid stuttered in fear, the tea set clattering slightly in her hands. “T-The servants thought that His Highness and Sir C-Clover have been working tirelessly today and perhaps some tea could help.”

You had too much of a survival instinct to dare look at the prince but the silence and building heat in the air was evidence enough that the thought was not appreciative.

Trey was quick to clear the tension with an awkward cough and a smile. “Thank you, I could use some.”

At his words, you dutifully proceeded to reach for the set when the maid hastily pulled it away from you.

Strange

“I-I can do it. Please excuse me” Without sparing a glance towards you, the maid quickly set the tray down on a nearby table and worked to pour a cup.

You’ve seen this maid only a few times. She was a new addition to the roster, too new to approach the royal family but here she was. She hadn't even learned how to properly hold the pot which was noticeable to everyone but was ignored (at the behest of Trey’s wordless plea) due to assumed inexperience.

“She’s so nervous but here she is, so adamant about serving some damn tea…”

A suffocating feeling rising in your throat, you watched with trepidation as the maid walked towards Trey while holding the teacup almost too preciously.

“Eek!” The maid shrieked when your hand squeezed her wrist in an unforgiving grip. She turned to question you but your glare kept her silent.

Trey looked at you with confusion, but your attention kept on the shaking maid and the teacup. With your other hand, you reach for your silver brooch given as part of your uniform to symbolize you as a person of the royal family.

The confusion in Trey’s eyes turned to disbelief when he watched your silver brooch become a damning color as you dipped the silver into the tea.

The broken maid would have crumbled completely onto the pristine floor if not for your hand still on her wrist. While she seemed to be a bumbling mess begging for her life, you couldn’t risk her making a run for it.

You don’t get paid enough for this nonsense.

”So, it was a plan to replace me…permanently.”

You stood silently in front of the solemn man in his office. After arresting her, it was easy to extract information from the maid and prince Riddle is gathering evidence for their act of treason, including your own interrogation.

“You are the trusted aide-to-be of the prince that cannot be bribed. You’re considered an obstacle.” You bowed your head. “I apologize for not speaking out sooner but if it were just my words without evidence, I could have my tongue removed for accusing nobility.”

If it was just you, then you wouldn’t be as confident. But to think that those corrupted nobles managed to convince someone else to do their dirty work. They were desperate and now that there was an attempt, the higher authorities have to take action.

“I shouldn’t feel bad for that maid…why should I for the choice she made…” you could still feel the sensation of that woman’s shaking body in the hand that held her. You don’t like it.

“Ha, you really don’t sugarcoat your words.” Trey’s voice pulled you back as he tried to laugh but his young body felt too heavy to put his whole heart into it.

But it’s finally over. The poisoning failed and those stupid noble scums were on Prince Riddle’s hit-list. That feeling of guilt that ate at your heart could finally rest in peace…right?

Even when he was the victim of all this, Trey was still sitting in his office in charge of investigating his own assassination attempt, on top of his usual duties in assisting the Royal family.

“Thank you for your time,” he even dares to smile kindly at you with dark circles under his warm eyes. “If you could, please call over the head staff to plan on interrogating the rest of the servants.”

“No.”

“N-No?”

“I won’t be doing that. I could ask the head staff to leave his schedule open if needed or if he could handle it with the guards since that’s his f*cking job,” You stared right into Trey’s eyes which widened in surprise. “For now, I humbly suggest Sir Clover to take a rest in his room or to work on something other than your assassination case.”

You didn’t wait for your stunned employer to reply as you bowed politely once more. “If there is nothing else, I shall take my leave.”

You moved away, making your way to the door before pausing. You glanced back at the young man in such a large office and your consciousness felt heavy. Your body was physically no older than Trey or Riddle but the weight on their shoulders was immeasurable, too much for either of them to handle on their own.

“Sir Clover,” you refused to look him in the eyes, “if you ever need anything…I’m willing to assist however I can.”

Immediately regretting your embarrassing words, you quickly added “but during work hours only!” before hastily leaving the office.

A shame really, since you missed the way Trey let out a genuine laugh after so long.

[caspersscareschool]

ninja turtles lore gathered from various preschoolers

- raphael is the guy with the sword and the big stick and he changes from red to blue seemingly at random

- michelangelo eats food and toots (extremely funny)

- secret 5th turtle named tootfood who wears blue and orange

- leonardo is not one of the brothers but in fact is actually their mom and dad at the same time which i guess makes splinter just some guy who lives with them (no relation)

- purple guy doesn't have a name he's just called purple guy and he stands in the corner

- double secret 6th turtle named socrates. that one eas my idea but they actually used it in 1 game which makes it canon

- they fight badguys using half-cartwheels and energy blast attacks (? somewhat unclear; more research needed)

[mauesartetc]

Redesigning Helluva Beelzebub

Hoo boy, roll up the sleeves for this one.

The Original

In my review of Helluva Boss 108, I mentioned that Beelzebub's character design put me in mind of how some DeviantArt kid's fursona might look. And... Yeah I stand by that statement. The most likely reason I can figure Viv Medrano wanted her to be dog-like was to make a reference to her Die Young music video, which featured an anthro wolf singing a Kesha song (for context, Kesha herself voiced Beelzebub and co-wrote a song for this episode).

But for those who are unaware, Beelzebub's traditional depiction looks nothing like this.

Really the only visual similarities the Helluva version shares with the Infernal Dictionary version are the insect wings, six limbs, and the crown thingy over the head. (At least I think that's a crown-? Kinda hard to tell on both counts.)

Bee's eyes get somewhat more insectoid later in the episode, but that feels like a cop-out. Wow, her eyes and colors changed. Totally a bug demon, right?

They had the same problem in Hazbin Hotel with Katie Killjoy, who's allegedly supposed to be a praying mantis but barely resembles one, even after her transformation.

I understand the desire for fresh takes on old figures, and taking creative liberties so the new interpretation doesn't feel generic. But the changes should at least make sense. By now it's pretty clear Viv couldn't care less about representing Ars Goetia demons faithfully, as demonstrated with Paimon, Andrealphus, and now Beelzebub. You could slap completely different names on these characters and it wouldn't change a thing. I posted this meme a while back but it's never been more relevant:

On top of that, what reason could there possibly be for the design to be this damn complex? Why did she need so many markings on her face? Why did she need so many layers of hair? Why did she need flowing goo for her hair, tail, and body, each requiring dedicated effects animation?

When it comes to a hand-drawn production, less is more. Any superfluous details on a character just make unnecessary work for the animators.

Anyway, here's what Viv has to say about it.

Alright, I'll admit: The lava lamp bit is a little clever. Basically it works as a regular stomach does, but on demonic steroids. But it wouldn't look so much like Viv's making this up as she goes if we'd seen Bee's stomach performing its intended function in the episode. Let her chow down on a giant piece of food (maybe that cotton candy she's been handing out-?) and swallow it, and let Loona (and the audience) see it dissolving in her transparent belly. As a general rule, if it's not shown or explained in the work itself, it's not canon. Like I've said before, Viv: Elaborate on the nuances in the story you're telling, not on social media.

Also, "Her ears are designed after beehives"? Wh...Wha? Ma'am have you ever seen a beehive.

(Hell, even if you told me the ears were inspired by the generic cartoon beehive we're all familiar with, I wouldn't have guessed. There's a difference between being subtle and being vague.)

I can kinda see it in the overall shape, but that's a very specific design inspiration that wasn't clear at all in the design itself. Same with the "animal trainer" thing: I never would have picked up on that if Viv hadn't pointed it out. If a character design doesn't visually convey all the necessary information, it's not a successful design. Show, don't tell. There's a communication breakdown between what Viv's telling us and what Bee's design shows us.

(It's possible she actually meant "Her ears are designed after honeycombs", but even then, each compartment has a specific pentagonal shape that's not coming across at all here.)

I also find it interesting that Bee and Loona have almost the exact same body type. Of course Viv's pretty infamous for samebody syndrome, but it's actually unnerving how similar these two are.

Might this be a reference to Vortex's "type"? Is this foreshadowing a relationship with Loona? Am I overthinking this? Yeah, probably. Viv's demonstrated a clear preference for tall, skinny body types over the years, so it's safer to assume that's the explanation. It's all aesthetics. It ain't that deep. Occam's Razor and all that.

Finally, Bee how the hell does your shirt work.

The Concept

So at this point it seems most logical to lean into the "bee" thing for the redesign, and scrap all the canine elements. As for the blobby hair and tail... yeeeah let's nix those too. We're going for a streamlined version that's easier to animate. And because I ignored the ringmaster look for my redesign of Asmodeus, it only makes sense to do the same for Bee's animal trainer vibe (what little there is) for the sake of consistency. I know this version of Hell has a circus theme with its highest-ranking demons, but there's never been an in-universe explanation for why that is.

Let's look at actual bees, then. A quick peek at Google has informed me that certain insect species have smaller, "simple" eyes (also known as ocelli), in addition to their compound eyes. In bees, this manifests as a triangular grouping of three beady eyes on top of the head.

In her Helluva Boss episode, Bee's full demon form has three eyes, which could be a reference to this triangular arrangement, plus her regular form has two spots on her forehead in addition to the third eye. So it's possible Viv actually did research for something. Pleasantly surprised on that front.

Next, the body. I've noticed that some folks find Bee's skinny body type refreshing, as the sin of gluttony is too often personified with fatness. And that's fair. That's valid. But consider this:

Imagine any Vivziepop character saying that about a chubby person. Imagine the series sending the message that fat people can be sexy too, and that they have worth outside of their appearance, enough for at least one character to consider them girlfriend material. That they're valued and appreciated regardless of this culture's beauty standards (which we know nothing about since the worldbuilding is as thin and flimsy as tissue paper, but whatever). Imagine if this show finally had a fat female character who wasn't relegated to the background. Don't know about y'all, but that would be refreshing to me. And when you take into account all the fat-shaming of a character who isn't even fat, portraying a fat character as attractive would be a nice change of pace for this show.

Now let's talk about clothing. In the episode, Bee's clothes show off a lot of her body, with a cutout crop top and short shorts. We can take a similar approach for the redesign (something that still shows off her chest, belly, and limbs, in keeping with the extroverted "party girl" persona), but that perhaps includes more queenly elements.

The Redesign

Because this is a redesign, many elements were already in place, but I still had to figure out how this character would look as a bee. Here's where the preliminary sketches came in. Lots of trial and error in this process.

Wrestling with this character's face got a lot easier once I realized I could mold it into a pentagonal shape akin to a honeycomb compartment. It took a few tries, but at last, I had a final sketch.

All that was left to do was test out some color combinations.

I tried a few different approaches, but in the end, this is the version I felt worked best.

I used many of the colors from the original, but pushed the orange much harder since orange is the symbolic color of gluttony as a sin. And overall it gives Bee a nice honey-ish look rather than the generic black and yellow we already see on so many bees in cartoons. I thought the colored outlines on her clothing would add a soft, feminine touch, as well.

And just for kicks, here's a quick sketch of her giant form, inspired by the Infernal Dictionary drawing of Beelzebub.

Conclusion

The canon version of this character exists in the form she does for no reason than to stroke her creator's ego. "Hey guys, remember when I animated that Kesha fan video? Remember how cool that was? Wanna see me foist this unnecessarily-complex character design on other animators while I take a victory lap?" I wouldn't mind so much if Viv animated any of this herself, but she didn't. I could almost excuse this if she had no animation experience and didn't know how much work it requires, but she does. The self-aggrandizing entitlement is just off the charts. But a nonsensical design is leagues better than a stolen one, so... brownie points for that, I guess.

[woodlandscab1n]

Guys... guys lets go back in time. Guys guys guys please.e..

I can't wait 'till I can get all the other RE games that I haven't played, get hyperfixiated on the whole franchise and literally never stop talking about dumb small details that I saw in a game and talk about that small detail a lot also go on a rampage of finding all the info I can of certain character.

[spicerackofblorbos]

Lost and Found in Another World | Leon Kennedy x VoiceActress!fem!reader

☾ summary ➼ Leon has never had someone he's never met affect him so much as you have. This unknown person with insane talent and the sweetest voice he's ever heard. When he meets you at a con, he is no longer that somewhat self-assured field agent. He's reduced to a starstruck mess.

☾ content/warnings ➼ fluff, canon world (sorta), alcohol mention, fem!Reader, sibling-like relationship with Claire Redfield, set up for a possible second part

☾ a/n ➼ Don't look too hard into the timeline of when and where this takes place. I imagined this was Leon between 21 and 28, considering the aftermath of Infinite Darkness. But you can place him whenever! Don't come at me for canon inconsistencies, I'm here to self-indulge idk.

☾ wc ➼ ~2.3k

Leon Kennedy was never one for anime. To be honest, he was never one for any television shows at all. He was either too tired from work or too distracted inside his mind to even think about sitting down and focusing on something.

The only exception was when Claire would come by his apartment, unannounced, with pizza and her show of the week, usually a show she’s started but she needs someone talk about it with, so she was willing to start it over. That someone was Leon.

This week was a new anime she had heard great things about. It was a short season, so they knocked it out in one sitting – one large pizza and a six pack of beer later. Claire was rattling on and on about the main character and her love interest in the show. They were both transported into another fantasy world, an isekai Claire had called it, and had fallen in love due to their shitty circumstances and their dependency on each other in this new, fucked up world.

Leon didn’t hate it, far from it.

In fact, he quite enjoyed it. From the fantastical monsters to the smooth plotline and storytelling, he was locked on the entire time. But what really enchanted him the most was the voice that belonged to the main character, this bubbly almost borderline naïve elf woman. He had never heard anything like her.

Claire would argue that it’s not her real voice, she’s just a very talented voice actress. Leon didn’t care, it was music to his ears and there were moments where he missed important dialogues and plot points because he was so entranced by that pretty voice.

“A convention? Really.” Leon sighs in exasperation at his red-jacket clad friend who sits across from him at the coffee shop they agreed to meet up at for lunch.

“Yeah! My friend bailed on me and the stupid people don’t refund tickets.” Claire gives a bright smile that reaches into her blue eyes, then slowly her face turns into that one pleading emoji she loved to use on Leon when she needed something. “Please Leon? It’s just a few days.”

“I don’t know, Claire… I just got back from a mission, and I could really use those few days to just sleep.” He rolls his shoulders back as he says that, grunting softly at the warm pain that flares up in his muscles from getting his ass kicked multiple times.

“I’ll pay for your food?”

“I can pay for my own food. “

“You don’t even have to dress up!”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

Claire pauses, propping her chin up on a palm as she stares hard at him. His blue eyes shift to the side, focusing on the cars slowly driving past the small café as he cards his calloused fingers through his hair. Across the street sits a park, full of kids playing on the playground with their parents chatting on the benches, vigilantly keeping an eye.

“Some of the voice actors for ‘Lost and Found in Another World’ will be there.” Claire murmurs into her coffee cup before taking a sip.

That gets Leon’s attention, his gaze snapping back to Claire’s smug face. He mentally scolds himself at how fast he reacted to that, knowing Claire did that on purpose.

There’s another pause.

“Which ones?” he asks gruffly, leaning back in the chair with his arms crossing his chest.

“Guess you’ll have to come and find out yourself.”

.

Leon had never been to a fan convention before, and he can see why he hadn’t before. It was crowded, loud, and stuffy to the point that he was tempted to pull his shirt off. It wouldn’t be the oddest outfit voice in the convention center, anyway.

It had been a few hours of bobbing through aisles of small businesses selling their wares until Leon had to put a hand on Claire’s shoulder just to ask to stop for a drink. His friend had an armful of trinkets and soft plushies that she was currently trying to organize inside her large bag that she brought while Leon leans against the wall, sipping on a very expensive bottle of water.

“I think I scoured every stall available.” She mutters, huffing in triumph once her items finally fit together without exploding out. “You ready to visit Celebrity Row?” Claire wiggles her eyebrows up at him before taking off in the direction of their destination without waiting for a response.

Leon just grumbles and follows as his eyes roam around the crowded space, unable to keep himself from finding potential exits in case something happens. Old habits die hard.

Celebrity Row was just as packed as the vendor floor. Lines of people bleed into the middle of the walkways, all waiting for their chance to meet their favorite star. Leon won’t lie and say he wasn’t intrigued, after all, there were some big-name celebrities all here to talk about their newest movies as well as the ones they had previously starred in.

None of them held a candle over who Leon was really hoping to meet, though.

You.

You were a hot commodity apparently; so many people were here waiting for you to show up at your booth. Claire says you are well known for many of your roles in anime and videogames, a sought-out voice actress in not only the small screens but also from your many adoring fans. Did you capture them by your sweet and melodic voice as well?

Leon couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed as he waited in line, being so new to all of this. Claire was in his ear, prattling about this new show that she wanted to try out next week if he was available, but at that point he had zoned out from the conversation and zoned in on you.

You were sitting behind a white table stacked with things he couldn’t see sitting out in front of you. Your name in big letters hovering above you on a banner with pictures of your various roles surrounding it, as if praising the one who had given them life.

Goddamn, your smile. Those eyes. The way your hair accentuates your beautiful face. He could swear he can hear your voice from all the way over here, though impossible since it’s drowned out by the chaos in the con.

Everything about you was nothing he had expected and everything he had hoped for.

“Leon? Earth to Leon!” Claire’s fingers snap in front of his face.

“Sorry. What’s up?” he looks down at her, quirking an eyebrow.

“I was asking how do I look? I want to make sure she likes my cosplay.” Claire does a small spin, letting Leon look at everything.

She had insisted on putting together a last-minute cosplay for your character in ‘Lost and Found in Another World’, something she had called a closet cosplay. It seemed true to fashion, so he nodded, unsure of what feedback he could give at such late notice and lack of context.

“Looks fine to me. I’m sure she’ll love it.” Leon reassures, crossing his arms over his chest as he turns to face the front of the slow-moving line.

“Great. Also, I was really hoping we could…” Claire continues to ramble, excited for the panels she wanted to visit before the end of the night and the ones she was thinking about attending tomorrow. Leon’s eyes do not leave your face.

With every person that you greet, closing the distance between him and you, he feels his heart rate spiking gradually. Leon is a calm and collected person for the most part, especially when he’s out on the field. He’s built up such a stoic wall, a way to protect himself, to hide away who he was before and during the Raccoon City incident.

But you? Why was he so nervous?

“Leon! Go!” Claire pushes Leon forward, knocking him out of his thoughts. Suddenly, he’s throttled into the white table, barely catching himself from falling on top of it. When he looks up, holding himself up by his arms, he’s met with your slightly startled expression.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” you ask, finally hearing that sweet voice of yours in person rattling him more than any bio-weapon could. You’ve stood up abruptly with your hands out, ready to support him if necessary.

“I-…” All he wanted was to apologize, but seeing your eyes up close, his words don’t come out the way he wants. “Falling for you already, huh.” He mutters instead, awkwardly smiling as he straightens up.

There’s a pause where Claire looks at Leon with bemusement, Leon’s face falling in horror at what he just said out loud, and your quivering lips as you try not to laugh out loud.

You fail.

Suddenly you burst into a fit of laughter, your eyes closing as you lean forward trying to catch your breath between laughs. Leon’s face blooms in heat, partly from his embarrassment. The other part from how irresistible your genuine laugh sounds like. With just a few words, he can tell the main character from that anime was close to as true to you. If he could hear that laugh and voice for the rest of his life, he could die happily.

“I-I’m sorry.” Leon says sheepishly, taking a few steps back as he rubs the back of his neck.

“No! Nothing to apologize for, I’m just glad you’re okay. You are okay, right?” you’ve settled back in your chair by now. To right the of you is what Leon assumes is your assistant, waiting impatiently for the next people so they can keep this line going efficiently. You, however, ignore their annoyed, passive-aggressive glances.

You wanted to spend as much time with your fans as possible instead of pushing them through as if they were packages on a conveyor belt. It’s understandable why you need to, but that doesn’t mean you have to like it. Nor do it. So you don’t.

“Fine! Yes, I’m fine. Um.” Leon steps away, letting Claire step in front of him so they can talk.

Your eyes leave his to meet Claire, holding your hands out to greet her. There is some back and forth between them - Claire asking about your favorite aspects of being a voice actress, you asking how her day at the con has been. Claire does a twirl for you, showing off the cosplay she carefully put together in such a short time. Your laugh is infectious just as your smile is genuine.

A few moments later, Claire had asked for a photo with you, to which Leon was handed her phone and instructed where to stand and how to do it – as if he hadn’t taken photos for Claire before. A handful of years worth of friendship will do that. And he had expected it anyway, considering how many times she had said how excited she was to talk to and take a selfie with you.

What he hadn’t expected was for you to hold your hand out to him, offering him a sweet smile like a beckoning call.

“Would you like a photo as well?” you ask, your pretty face lit up like the sun. He’s unsure if that’s your permanent disposition or not, but he likes it. And he can resist it. With a gentle nudge from his friend, he takes a few steps forward.

He's hesitant to touch you because he’d assumed it’s against the arbitrary rules set by whoever created these conventions. But considering who you are as a person (unbeknownst to him), you aren’t, and easily you slip your arm behind him and hold him by the waist as you tuck yourself against his side. There’s a surprised grunt that escapes his lips from not only the unexpected contact but also the way you felt so perfectly next to him. Instinctively, his muscular arm wraps around your shoulder out of ease and comfort of the poses you were in.

The perfumes that emanate from you are intoxicating to him and at this point he even forgets why he was here, why he was being held by you. And he’s looks straight at you too, not at the phone clutched in Claire’s hands that is just ten feet away.

“Okay! 1. 2. 3!” Claire presses the camera button a few times, just in case.

All too soon, the contact ends, and you’re turning towards him with a grateful smile as your arms fall back to your side naturally.

“Thank you so much for meeting me today. And thank you for being a fan, it means so much to me.” You say, waving at them before stepping back behind your table, ready to greet new people. Claire practically drags Leon away, which is hard considering how much muscle mass he has.

“Dude, you are so smitten.” Claire jokes once they’re away from the crowd still surrounding your booth.

“Huh, what?” Leon’s eyes drift from where you sit, now focusing on Claire’s highly amused face.

“You’ve got it bad. Want me to ask for her number while we’re here?” she nudges him in the chest.

“Shut up.” Leon grumbles, rubbing his neck again as his face heats up even more. “Send me those photos though.” His voice comes out softer this time, his blue eyes looking away and focusing on the various cosplayers that pass by.

“Yes, sir!” Claire salutes then starts walking deeper into Celebrity Row to see who else they could meet.

Leon was never one for conventions, but if it meant he got to see you again, he’d commit. And maybe even dress up just to see how you’d react.

i'm so bad about plugging my taglist but if you see this and wanna see what other Leon bullshit I pull out of my brain noodles, go here and fill out my form! your email is never shared with me or anyone else.

Taglist: @lucysarah-c @antagonize-me-motherfucker

[sockatoothewafflebird]

after seeing a bunch of stuff in the fandom related to how touch-starved ragatha really is, i just had to go back and count every time she touches herself or looks like she wants to touch someone else in episode two. and guess. just guess.

i counted eleven different times on-screen that she's rubbing her own arm, fiddling with/ holding her own hands, hugging herself, etc. eleven times is way more than i was expecting (i was thinking five at first) but it's literally almost every time she's on screen. and i didn't count how eager she was to take princess loolilalu's hands in her own.

and i also felt obligated to overanalyze the way pomni acts, especially around gummigoo... this is more about ragatha though i think? idk either way this will be long so buckle up and grab some popcorn

ragatha is the kind of woman to need to be touched, with every fiber of her being, but never ask for it, because she doesn't want to bother anyone. she needs physical affection, and she would accept it from literally anyone, but she also needs people to like her. she needs people to rely on her. ragatha stays optimistic to a scarily unhealthy degree jist to make sure no one hates her. and somehow it works.

she doesn't ever cross anyone's boundaries, she doesn't dare even imply that she wants to, even though she needs it more than anything. she just projects her insecurity and self-loathing in the form of "cupcakes and sprinkles and petting kitty-cats" and "if you're feeling sad just do a little dance!!" like girl is suppressing so much... the mass of all her suppressed emotions has ti have become a singularity by now.

anyway, with pomni canonically just disliking being touched, ragatha only suffers more. she seems like she's attached herself to pomni, in a sense? she's desperate to try and make pomni feel extra comfortable, for some reason. and i think i know why.

all the other members of the circus already know her. she already knows what they think of her to an extent, and she already knows how much or little her happy-go-lucky demeanor does for them all. and no one there seems to really be a genuine friend to her other than kinger. and, y'know, he's... kinger.

so ragatha has no one to really confide in, and i assume no one else confides in her other than the occasional need for encouragement or reassurance. and as previously stated, she needs people to lean on her.

then pomni shows up! and she seems like a somewhat nice person. so ragatha tries her absolute hardest to get pomni to like her. because no one else in the circus seems to care.

this dynamic seems like such a good opportunity for gut-wrenching angst and tension. maybe even a horrible scene in which ragatha tries to make pomni feel better with her debilitatingly unhealthy and unrealistic optimism im a situation that absolutely does mot call for it-- and pomni just can't deal with it anymore. because she's smart enough to know that ragatha is only using it as a decoy and a tool to hide something deep, dark, terrible, within her... and snaps at her.

full-on yelling, pointing, walking towards her all in a blind, devastating rage, because pomni is smart enough to see that it's just a way to get her self-worth from somewhere other than herself, and that it's all a facade, and she hates that ragatha thinks that's the only reason people care about her... and ragatha is dumbfounded, because in her entire life, in and out of the circus, no one has ever been able to see through it. not a single soul.

this eventually leads to a heart-to-heart, and apologies, truths, lies, and everything in-between fall out of their mouths like waterfalls. and it all leads to the best friendship either of them have ever had.

pomni is no therapist, no professional. but she's been through some bad places before, as seen in ep 2 with her conversation with gummigoo. sometimes we just need to be realistic about things, and acknowledge that things aren't okay. and pomni seems like she can keep things real. which is something ragatha desperately needs.

and when pomni is about to explode from the insanity of the world, ragatha can be there as comfort and reassurance, because pomni's always drowning in the bad possibilities so much and being so skeptical of everything that it's debilitating. ragatha can see the bright side of things no matter what (even if it's unhealthy most times), and with pomni seeming like an overall more down-to-earth person, they can balance things out really well. ragatha's got the heart to keep everyone's spirits high, and pomni can stay real with everyone to make sure they're prepared for whatever might come barreling towards them. i think this is what makes them so perfect for each other.

and the connection, the deep emotional understanding of each other leads to something... more.... homosexual. yeah i'm a chronic jesterdoll shipper of course it would lead to this

---

all the funny ha-ha aside, this dynamic is so fun to brainstorm about. i'm in love with how deep this could get. some of this might be pretty far from cannon, as only episode two is out when i write this, but i'm trying to interpret their characters as accurately as possible from what little we have so far. i think i did pretty well for a random gay bird with internet access

i'm half-tempted to incorporate a scene like this into my au. like it's soooo juicy i love it i want to write it i need to see it realized