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#This was a lot of fun so thank you anon!

cardinal-copia-popia · 2 years

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What if I were to ask you to keep going on about needy Copia? 👀

Then I would gladly do so, anon!!

I tried to be as thorough as possible as far as my personal HCs go.

NSFW under the cut

Needy Copia Continuation

Bite and lick and kiss his thighs and tummy, mark him up, make him squirm and whine. Bonus points if you squeeze and knead his ass at the same time. This is a quick way to get him desperate

He used to need to be tied up to keep his hands to himself, but he knows better now. It's become a game as you like trying to get him to lose control and forget, make him so desperate that he has to touch himself or try to get you to touch him (and he's been such a good boy that you give in, at least a little)

The man loves being on his knees, being forced to look up at you (A/N: and tbh I'm sad we don't get to see Papa on his knees like we used to see the cardinal). That's his favorite way to go down on you with you either standing or sitting and him on his knees before you. He'll lose his mind even more if you let him touch himself while he's doing this. (And it's even more arousing to him if he's wearing his papal regalia and/or his face paint)

Unlike Terzo, Copia isn't bratty. Copia wants to please you, to do a good job. He's not one to seek out punishment (unless he thinks he's done something that warrants it, then he'll ask for it). He doesn't have a very high tolerance for pain, however, so ignoring where he wants you most is usually the best way to go as a form of punishment (though I can see him liking to be spanked on occasion). Or making him watch as you pleasure yourself while he isn’t allowed to use his hands or move. That gets him going just as much as if you were actually touching him because he wants to be the one giving you such pleasure.

It's his preference to take care of you first, to worship you, to make your pleasure the priority. He'll kiss you all over, whispering how wonderful and perfect he thinks you are and telling you how much he loves you. He's so sweet and loving that you can't help but return the favor. He's awkward about the attention you're giving him at first, but this is what usually leads to the teasing and working him up into a frenzied state of need and want.

As I mentioned with his love language, he needs to be told he's doing a good job in whatever he's doing. Praise makes him putty in your hands and puts that pretty blush on his cheeks that spreads up to the tips of his ears.

Calling him Papa can have two different effects depending on if he's in a more dominant or submissive role. Calling him that early on will put him in a more dominant mindset, but if you call him that when he's a needy mess, it's been known to make him cum instantly.

And just as a note, I like to think Cardinal Copia would be submissive more often than not. Once he ascends, Popia's got more confidence and likes to be a little dominant more often. But as I've said, the submissive, needy side is still very much there, and you know when you need to give him the control he wants.

It is so easy to make Copia blush, and you love it. Just a little touch or stroke here and there, or the right word whispered in his ear (especially if you're in public), makes him a stuttering, blushing mess, ready to find a secluded place for you two to be more openly amorous. (I also like to think that if you could get away with it, he would totally be into you actually getting him off in a somewhat public place where he has to try to stay as quiet as possible while you tease him and make him cum. And, of course, he would gladly return the favor)

As I mentioned in the love bites post, he's a little embarrassed but turned on by having a visible mark on his neck. As much as it outwardly seems to embarrass him, he loves knowing it's there, that you left it for all the world to see that he's taken, that he belongs to you. He used to sometimes even ask you to leave a visible mark on him, but you know him well enough now that he no longer needs to ask.

When he's not whining, moaning, or whimpering, he talks a lot and swears, usually in Italian, as that's what he seems to default to when he's out of his mind with pleasure. He'll tell you how good you're making him feel, that he needs more, or shyly asks you to do something. He'll practically sob when he tells you how much he loves you. He'll full-on beg sometimes but he's just been so sweet and good that you can't help but give him exactly what he wants the second he asks for it. And he'll usually only resort to that kind of begging once he thinks he won't last much longer. Try to deny or delay his orgasm as long as you want, but he'll eventually reach a point where even just the barest of touches will send him over the edge, often making a mess all over himself.

At the end of it all, hold him close, give him all the kisses, and tell him how much you love him because that man deserves all the love and adoration in the world and more. And with that love, you'll have him forever.

#ask #my headcanons #ghost band #the band ghost #copia #papa iv #ghost headcanons #ghost band headcanons #needy copia #This was a lot of fun so thank you anon!

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cinnamontoastensketches · 1 year

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If the boyfriends were pokemon what would they be? Or alternatively what pokedex entry would you make up for them?????

Seriolu has evolved into Secario~!!

I'm always happy to draw these two~

Volo is definitely way too sneaky and mischievous to be anything other than a Zoroark in my opinion, and Seren is usually very stoic and loyal, which I think fits the Riolu line well. He's also a proficient fighter and can get a little aggressive when threatened.

#pokemon #volo #trainer oc #hisuian zoroark #riolu #lucario #thank you ever so much anon I had a lot of fun with this~

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simplydnp · 2 months

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oooh my god why would they do that. they could have just. not posted shirtless stories. thank you for answering my question i will be thinking about this.

great question. they love riling us up. always have.

thank you and curse you anon for revealing my trash history 😔 all a girl has is her fake reputation on dnp tumblr. there is absolutely no way you could ever guess this information has been seared into my brain (<- says the girl who's reputation is spouting off specific and detailed moments from their past and waxing poetic about it in her own posts and the tags of others')

#genuinely thank u anon this was fun. i always love giving people new dnp things to freak out about #more sappy reason they did it: this was the pushing the boundaries era. the testing the waters era. the boiling the frogs era.#as dan would throw me out the window for: the soft launch era. it's not the beginning of it and it certainly isnt the end #but its an important stepping stone in the story. its 2 insta stories #after they did post multiple that day. and its really Nothing. but theres a Lot of implications.#and it's one of the first signs of those implications being very. intentional. cause they are all too aware of themselves #and how they present themselves to us. especially then. so it was some sort of strategic. i dont think they planned and schemed it out obvs #but i do think there was a Moment. about it. where its like okay we're doing this. and we go from there.#<- didnt i tell you i was sappy #dnp #c.text #dan and phil #answered

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femsammy · 5 months

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samjohn where John lives past s2 and holds a dead Sam in his arms instead of Dean in ahbl? How do you think he’d behave?

This is not something I had ever considered before and it made me lose my mind a little bit when I let myself think about it.

I LOVE this scene for Sam and Dean but oh my god can you imagine if it was John in the mud on his knees, rocking Sam back and forth, telling him he's going to be okay because his dad's got him now, he'll keep him safe.

He knows there's nothing he can do, tries his best to keep the tears from his voice as he holds Sam's face in his hands, memorising his features. Wipes the blood from his mouth with a shaky thumb. He wants Sam's last memories to be of him, of someone who loves him so much. He can't let Sam go with his last memories of being stabbed in the back.

He's glad that Dean isn't here to see this, that he doesn't have to see his brother die in front of him.

He's failed both his boys in so many different ways but he never wanted to end up here, could never fathom ending up here even when he considered the thought that he might have to ...

He can't even finish the thought.

Sam isn't dying by his hand but it still feels like a personal failure, like it's his fault somehow. It's like the pain of losing Mary all over again and please God no he can't do this again, he can't breathe as he cradles Sam to his chest and holds his limp head on his shoulder, dirty hand buried in dark curls.

"Shh, Sammy," he whispers, not able to speak any louder than this. He keeps talking, even knowing Sam won't respond to him again. Keeps rocking him like he did when he was trying to soothe a fussy baby Sam. He suddenly thinks of the baby he brought home from the hospital with Mary, of placing him in Dean's arms for the first time. "It's okay." His tears are soaking into Sam's hair, but he doesn't think about how Sam can't feel it. "You ... you'll be with Mary. You'll be safe with her, Sammy." He doesn't even know what he's saying anymore, knees numb from the cold mud and his head and chest aching with a grief he never wanted to feel again. He doesn't believe in happy endings or heaven anymore but if he has to lie to soothe himself Sam, he'll do it. He'll do it if it means he can pretend he made his son's last moments comfortable. He doesn't think about how Sam stopped moving before he started talking to him. He can't stop pretending, he doesn't want to.

#it feels messy but i decided to keep it like that since i think it fits johns mood better #i keep meaning to write shippy stuff but it ends up as gen #to keep this sad i dont think john went and made a deal to bring sam back. so sam stays dead #i dont think dean and john would last that long after they kill azazel though #sam winchester #john winchester #samjohn #im sure theres a lot of grammar and punctuation errors but i wanted to post it like this #also thank you for the prompt anon! <3 this was a fun one to answer

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nanatsuyu · 6 months

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what makes you like kandrew so much?? what drawns you to them??

(not trying to sound rude or condescending or anything im just curious lol)

I really adore characters that bite and snarl at each other for the purpose of enrichment in their respective enclosures.

On a more serious note lol—other than the fact that I have A Type when it comes to pairings (davekat, edxizzy, amberprice, etc), I enjoy characters that have somewhat of an unhealthy codependency on one another. Which is the extremely general way of putting it. I like characters that are kind of doomed to the narrative to never really be sated by what the world has to offer, but their person makes up for that (not that they always recognize it as such or that it's entirely positive or sometimes even completely mutual). And I don't mean doomed in a "never amount to anything" way, but in that bittersweet tone where both of these characters, wherever they fall into each other on the timeline, are at a place where their lows sync up, and that harmonizing rattles something to the perceived tune of "we're the best we're ever going to get". Again, that's all really general for the vibes of why I was drawn to them. There's a bit more nuance for them (and the other pairings ofc).

I like that they have a deal that encompasses both of them trying to push the other into being a better version of themselves but they're both too stubborn/scared to move first because realised potential means you have to recognise it too. Kevin can't expect Andrew to try his best when he himself is not, and Andrew can't expect Kevin to show him his worth* if he doesn't bother to try in the first place. (Though I know their deal was labelled more as moriyama protection for Kevin, I think that kind of encompassed the idea that Andrew would be a crutch till Kevin could stand on his own if that makes sense)

Not to quote the ec but it's one of like 3 parts I would willingly print and eat:

Andrew is the kind of character I adore because he says this and he really genuinely means it. Keeping what little he has left of himself is a last ditch self preservation tactic because he can't get hurt if he has no hopes/expectations/aspirations. No one can let him down if he doesn't let them. But he's so wonderfully flawed in his own ruleset because he keeps doing just that in the hopes that maybe someone will be different this time . Like maybe this time someone will be right when they say he's worth it** like maybe Kevin is right and he can make Andrew see what he's been refusing himself.

I also love that their deal extends far past the deal itself. In the most basic of terms, it was: 'you go, I'll go.' Andrew didn't have to trust Kevin beyond that. But he gave Kevin his meds and trusted him not to abuse that. Kevin had even already promised to help him figure out a way to wean off them before if they could earlier (and I genuinely think his fear of Andrew getting off his meds early was both a kneejerk 'the game/my safety' reaction because Kevin has a lot riding on this semester too, but also because he knows he made his own promise to Andrew and he thought Andrew coming off his meds early might have been an obstacle even Kevin's stubbornness couldn't hurdle when it came to helping Andrew on his feet after). Likewise I have to imagine that very few people put their trust in Kevin with much of anything outside of Exy given his temperament and wallflower disinterest in team building extra curriculars. So for Andrew to willingly give Kevin his meds to hold onto that he's gotten violent over before probably created a very morbid sense of.. pride, I guess? Like I trust you to hold onto the thing that ruins me is so... clenches fist

There's also this rough handed care that comes with all of that. They're unforgivably honest with each other at the best of times and unnecessarily biting at wounds just to get a genuine reaction at the worst. But then they also have these quiet side/off screen moments that are unyielding in tenderness? Andrew inspecting Kevin's hand for injuries. Kevin covering for Andrew when he's sick on court. Andrew telling Kevin to trust him during a panic attack and that he'll take care of it. Kevin turning his entire attention away from the Raven's to pull Andrew up to his feet. Them smiling at each other first genuinely?? Being idiots on the court with playful mocking shoves that don't get heated?? Like you give me these two characters who make it seem as if their hearts will genuinely stop beating if they stop nipping at each other, and then show me that they're actually wrapped up in one another so tightly that they're rarely seen apart? And are burdened (affectionate) with the task of keeping the other from doing the very thing that drowns themselves?? Okay

Also a looooot of this is from my perspective on Andrew's perspective on Kevin since we're given a lot more to work with, but I genuinely think Andrew was the first to push back at Kevin and make him prove things to Andrew and himself. Kevin had maybe a couple people at most before he fled to the foxes. Like he had nothing other than his name and reputation, good and bad, when he showed up at wymack's door. I can't help but imagine some part of Andrew saw this as amusing but also rather tiresome when it came to seeing Kevin constantly shut away in hiding. He was so loud before, where is all that roar now? When Kevin left Jean, he really left his only friend behind (sorry Thea fans I know she's there I know). So here you have Andrew, offering a deal that becomes this codependency because being out of the nest alone most certainly took its toll for a while, and it sounds too good to be true but most things are. So Kevin snatches it up and then there's the trust in the meds and the constant presence (in the sense of comforting consistency in spite of any disagreements (but abandonment issues kandrew is a whole other post now innit)) and the care and it all looks a lot like what someone might call a friend. And I mean they could both say they're not friends till their dying day but they're the only ones they're still trying to fool.

I just like that they gnaw on the scraps that they snag off one another, these leftover cuts from failed attempts at love and kindness, and act as if they didn't hand the pieces to each other themselves in the bed they share.

—

*Andrew is worth more than his ability to play Exy obviously, but I'm working from the angle that these boys have a very limited vocabulary in how to express that given their upbringings lol ie: my absolute Favourite part of the ec:

Like again I have my hangups with some of the ec but this provides soooo much more context to their beef pre-canon and the history behind Andrew's failed recruitment. Not to mention Aaron internally calls out Andrew for blatantly lying to Kevin when he tells him he doesn't care. (I think Andrew probably holds a certain disdain for Kevin struggling to verbalize how he measures worth and how that might differentiate off the court, because that line between wanting to be told you're worth putting in the effort for versus being told it's because of your latent potential is most likely rather precarious. Shipping goggles on: I imagine wanting to get someone's attention whose love language was built up around Exy is a tad difficult even if Andrew does in fact hear what Kevin's trying to say. I also don't think Kevin's malicious in his inability to truly express that Andrew really could have everything and it's infuriating to watch Andrew self destruct.)

**And for me, this, coupled with the above conversation with Renee, really puts into perspective how agitated Andrew is with Kevin for squandering his potential. He thinks Kevin has zero self preservation skills when it comes to maybe not putting all his balls in the exy basket, but that's also why he's so drawn to him because he has this insatiable drive to live for this one thing? And yet he's not even giving it his all like he's asking of Andrew despite that? It'd be easy to dismiss Kevin's overzealous love of the game as gross infatuation that's bled into Andrew's life, but if he smothers Kevin's drive and doesn't encourage him to be exactly as he sees Kevin, this person who really can achieve these things, what is there for him? He wants Kevin to thrive, but Andrew also wants Kevin to be right and that he can thrive too.

#im sorry anon do you regret your question now lol #im kind of bad with articulating my points sometimes because theres A LOT #like i think how they view themselves and each other is blurred with how others do #and what they tell themselves versus what they themselves can articulate makes it really messy #and thats what i gobvle up about them #theyre messy and mean and have a vice grip in each others collar and constantly demand more #and at the same time theres a certain kind of devotion that comes with promising to be the reason someone wont break thats so #agonizingly tender #kiss with a fist‚ love from the back of a broken hand etc #thanks for coming to my ted talk hope literally any of this made sense #aftg #aftg meta #kandrew #nana asks #otp: did you have fun #i should be sleeping but im thinking about ✨them✨

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silverskye13 · 2 years

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I love how all the hermits and hels have different relationships with each other!! Like the hels are all mirrors of their respective person and how the different hermits interact with them is so cool! Also Tango straight up snatching his hels is hilarious, imagine if ren or wels walked in on them building it would be fantastic. Or tango just randomly yoinking tanguish when he needs help escaping something. They seem like a fun duo! :D

Tanguish was a bad helsmit. That wasn't opinion, or conjecture, or bad self-esteem or even really up for debate. It was just a statement of fact. He didn't mean to be. Really. It wasn't a decision he made one day, though liability was in him somewhere. He hadn't admitted it to himself yet, and probably he would someday. The fact remained though. For better or for worse, he was a bad hels. He was just made that way.

---

"Get back here you little thief!" Helsknight screamed, pounding after him down the street. Tanguish flinched and dashed around a corner, clutching the knight's coin purse tight in his claws. He laughed, but it was less the exhilarated thrill-laugh of victory and more the odd-squeak shrill of barely contained panic. This was bad? Yeah, this was bad.

(He definitely shouldn't have stolen from the second scariest helsmet he knew of. But he couldn't help himself! It'd been right there, out in the open. Helsknight should know better. You don’t just leave your coin purse dangling on your hip at perfect stealing height! It’s like putting a wallet in your back pocket: you’re not exactly asking to get robbed, but you’re sure as hels not making it hard!)

Tanguish skid down an alley, vaulted nimbly over a wall, and let out a horrified gasp when the crash of armor told him Helsknight was still right behind him.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Tanguish gasped. "You can afford to lose it though!"

"You'll be losing your head when I catch you!" Helsknight snarled from, really, unacceptably close behind him. Tanguish had about half a breath to think, ‘Oh, he runs faster than me,’ before Helsknight tackled him from behind, and they went tumbling to the ground. The offending coin purse slipped from Tanguish’s hands and scattered diamonds onto the dirty cobblestones in a way that reminded him of someone muddying a stained glass window - mildly blasphemous, but still kinda pretty, all things considered.

(This was, in hindsight, a very dumb thing to be paying attention to when there was a large, angry knight shoving an armored knee into his left kidney, but he had his priorities).

Helsknight braced a hand against Tanguish’s shoulder and pulled the other back for a punch, “I’m gonna--!”

“Heyyyyy Tanguish!” a familiar, chipper voice piped up in Tanguish’s head. “Buddy, pal, you doing anything right now? I could use a ha-”

“Yes I’d love to help!” Tanguish shouted, shielding his face from Helsknight’s fist. The steel gauntlet arched towards him and Tanguish screwed his eyes shut. A hand, all claws and no gauntlet, clamped on his arm and yanked. His stomach leaped into his throat as he felt himself suddenly falling.

If Tanguish hadn’t just disappeared through his barely-present reflection in a facet of one of Helsknight’s diamonds, he would’ve watched Helsknight punch the nether brick of the alley floor so hard it cracked the tile. He would’ve watched Helsknight snarl and shake his fist, and curse as he tried to unbend the metal of his gauntlet from where it was now shaped to every knuckle. Then he would’ve seen Helsknight stand, kick a nearby trash can so hard it crumpled like a can of soda, and pick up his diamonds and his spilled coin purse. (Or, more realistically, if Tanguish hadn’t just fallen through his reflection guided by Tango’s hand, he would have instead been punched so hard in the face he’d lose six memories, three ounces of his dwindling common sense, and his claim to having never broken his nose. As fate would have it though, Tanguish was pulled through his reflection from the hels dimension straight into Hermitcraft at his double’s behest, so he saw none of these things.)

Most of the other helsmets knew when, why, how they were made. There was, for example, The Red King. He was made during Third Life, a last-ditch effort to protect something precious, a sacrifice on a black altar. There was Helsknight, made when Welsknight’s many fears and shortcomings finally grew a spine and started walking, because he wouldn’t confront them any other way. Cleo was made to honor a death game, and split from her hermit when that death game ended for her, and now she stood as a monument to ZombieCleo’s losses. JoeKills was… well… he was a lot of things. There were many more helsmets and hels denizens and dark mirrors and evil halves that lived in hels, and all of them seemed to know what they were about.

Tanguish didn’t know when, or why, or how he was, really. He knew what he was - he was a helsmet. There was nothing else he could really be. He knew some of Tango’s Last Life memories, but he didn’t think he was made because of them. He remembered helping Tango with Decked Out, and that had certainly happened before Last Life. It was more like, those memories brought Tanguish into focus, like he was a list of shortcomings simmering in the background before suddenly stumbling into the light. If he thought about it really hard, and guessed as best as he could, he might say he was born from Tango’s sacrifices. His unwilling sacrifices. From playing second fiddle to everyone else’s more compelling volitions. Tanguish thought this made the most sense. He was, in fact, very good at playing second best to Tango.

Tanguish tumbled out of Tango’s reflection in an ice pillar and fell with a startled ‘oof!’ onto cold stone. He opened his eyes, took a breath to say something, and then slammed it shut again when a loud roar reverberated around the artificial cavern. Tanguish looked at Tango backing away in the snow, looked to the towering creature lumbering towards him, and thought maybe he would’ve preferred the broken nose waiting for him in hels. Most people preferred broken bones to facing down an entire Warden. (Tango wasn't most people.)

Tanguish scrambled to his feet and ran, snatching Tango’s wrist as he did so. The pair of them sprinted wordlessly, which didn’t really matter, since the Warden had immaculate hearing, and the sound of their breathing and footsteps served it just fine. The Warden howled, an ear-splitting noise that shattered shockwave lines in the icicles and columns Tango had spent weeks building. They gonged and crashed like the world’s deadliest wind-chimes over their heads, and Tanguish tracked a few to their left and right as they fell. This was their only saving grace; the falling ice was much louder than Tango and Tanguish were. The Warden, confused, hesitated as it tried to track the different sounds.

“Hey man, thanks for comi-”

“Shhhhh!” Tanguish interrupted him. Tango gave an exaggerated nod and a thumbs-up and focused on running.

They were good at that: running. It was one of the things they shared in common. They were both terribly good at running from things. (Tanguish got his practice stealing, and Tango got his wrangling dangerous creatures, but practice was practice no matter where it came from.) They were also terribly good at avoiding the fact that they were hels and hermit, and that wasn't really supposed to make them friends. They ran so fast together, so often, they'd gotten quite good at running from what they were supposed to be (not friends) and you tended to grow fond of the people you kept pace with. (They kept pace well.)

Tanguish couldn't remember why they first met. It was in much the same way he first spawned in hels: wholly accidental, a bit sudden, and mildly inconvenient. He hadn't asked to be created. He didn't particularly mind that he was, but it also wasn't exactly expected, springing into consciousness from random emotions and void. But he did.

When he first met Tango, it was when he was minding his own business, counting a collection of coins he'd stolen from someone in the main market. The person was from a place called Pixandria, or they were the hels version of someone who'd been to Pixandria at some point, and they had the most beautiful copper coins Tanguish had ever seen. He took them onto his favorite roof - a tall steepled thing made of deepslate and burnished iron that he thought might be a church, or some villain-y builder's lair. He'd never been inside. He didn't care about interiors much. He liked things. He liked those pretty little copper coins. He flipped each one in his hand, marked their faces, cataloged their iconography, sulked a little that he hadn't stolen more. And then a voice interrupted him.

"They used me, and I got selfish."

Tanguish looked around the roof, confused. There was no one else here. No one else had his claws for scaling buildings, or his tail for balance, or the ice that sprung to his touch that his skin liked to stick to for just a few seconds before it melted, helping him cling to things.

"I mean, I was trying to be cool, and I blew it. Hah - literally. That's a pretty pathetic way to go."

Tanguish looked down at the coins in his hand, at his reflection on the red-orange surface, and was not ashamed to admit he thought the coins were talking to him. It took awhile for him to realize it was his reflection, and not the odd face of the coin, speaking. It was a reflection he could barely see, a black silhouette with tired, despondent eyes.

"I bet no one cared, either."

Tanguish tilted his head at the coins in his hand, waited for them to speak again, and when they didn't, tossed them one-by-one into a fountain far below. All of them, except for the shiniest one. That one he polished and slipped in his pocket. Talking coins were pretty rare, he figured. (He was right.)

"Okay," Tanguish breathed, hiding behind a half-finished wall, "we're pretty far away now."

"Are we out of its hearing range?" Tango squeaked, louder than Tanguish (that was the only way he knew how to talk: just a few decibels louder than Tanguish at all times). "I mean that thing is scary good at hearing."

The two of them fell silent. They strained their ears to listen. In the distance Tanguish heard the quiet clicks of sculk sensors listening for noise, but nothing else. Finally, he nodded.

"Okay," Tango whispered, "so first of all, sorry for not warning you-"

Tanguish shrugged.

"-but I figured you wouldn't be too-- yeah, exactly. You're not mad. Of course you're not. I get mad at things."

Tanguish wasn't entirely sure he'd ever been mad before. Tango told him it was the kind of emotion you didn't forget once you'd felt it. Tango tended to be right about these kinds of things. (He got mad at redstone all the time - or at least, Tanguish figured he did. Redstone seemed like something you'd get mad at, and Tango was, in part, made of the stuff.)

"I thought we weren't catching Wardens until Decked Out was closer to done?" Tanguish asked him, a little annoyed, but still sort of favoring this to Helsknight's wrath.

"Well, you know, we did say that. But I wanted to just test some shriekers-"

"Tango."

"Good news! The shriekers definitely work!"

Tanguish chuckled. "Good news."

Tango shot him some finger-guns and grinned. "Well it's gotta be good, if it's even got Grim McGee over here laughing."

Tanguish found himself chuckling more. He shook his head.

"Anyway, so I was thinking-"

The Warden's growl sounded suddenly, bouncing off every icicle and snow bank in the foundling Decked Out cavern. Tango and Tanguish moved as one, slapping their hands on each other’s mouths to shut each other up. Eyes wide, they watched each other. They listened. The Warden sniffed twice, groaned in exasperation, and wandered further into the ice.

The first time Tango met Tanguish, it too, had been by accident. One moment Tanguish was leaning into the fountain by his favorite spot to drink some water. The next, he was sputtering and clawing his way out of a beautiful bay. His claws grabbed a cartoonishly built boardwalk and he hauled himself out of the water, ice smoothing the surface at his touch. He found himself staring at the reflection he’d heard talking to him for the past… well… he didn’t know how long.

It was funny, really, looking back on it. They were like a pair of scared cats who thought each of them respectively was the only cat in the world. They tumbled away from each other, all bristles and spines and fire and ice and redstone and skulk and it was a calm night from anywhere else on Hermitcraft but there. They blinked, they stared, they recognized what each of them were. They were perfect mirrors of shock and confusion.

Tanguish didn’t know what was going through Tango’s head. (He never knew what was going through his head, if there was anything going on up there at all besides the impulses and whims that drove him.) For his part, Tanguish spent the moments thinking hermits and helsmits were supposed to hate each other, eat each other up like fire and ice, burn and hiss like redstone and skulk. They were supposed to fight maybe, or at least bring out the worst in each other. And Tanguish thought if he’d known he’d meet his other half so soon, he’d maybe have spent less time stealing, and more time learning how to properly handle your double.

Then Tango held his hand out to Tanguish, and flashed him a dazzling smile that was equal parts nervous and excited. “Hey! Oh man, uh -- well, I guess you already know who I am, huh? It’s nice to finally meet you!”

Tanguish had expected treachery (as he should, given who and why and what they were to each other). But the thing about Tango was he was friendly, and transparent in that way friendly people are when they’re trying to make new friends. His red eyes were scary, shielded by impractically large glasses, and his hair sparked and flickered, and the freckles on his skin were charged with redstone, and Tanguish thought by nature of who and why and what they were, taking Tango’s hand should hurt.

“We’re supposed to hate each other,” Tanguish pointed out to him.

Tango shrugged. “Why should we? Opposites attract, right?” Then he’d flashed another dazzling, teeth-barred and infectious grin. “Besides, I was never that great at doing what I was supposed to.”

A proper helsmet would’ve refused. Scratched his hand away maybe, or done some other dramatic thing that set them apart as enemies. He should loathe the voice he’d been hearing in his head, always talking down to itself, or despairing over troubles and failures. At the very least, some primal helsmet-y thing should drive him to be cruel and self-righteous.

Instead, Tanguish took the hand extended to him, and found it was pleasantly warm. Tango winced, obviously fearing his ice would sting and freeze, and when it didn’t, he pulled Tanguish to his feet.

“I’m Tango,” Tanguish had introduced himself, because Tango hadn’t given him anything different yet.

Tango smiled at him, close-mouthed and melancholy. Tanguish preferred his other smile, despite how sharp his teeth looked. “Yeah… you really are, aren’t you buddy?”

“You got a name tag on you?”

“Yep! I had it all sorted out,” Tango said proudly, and Tanguish shushed him. Tango continued only a little softer this time. “We just gotta nametag him and lure him into the glass box I showed you. Easy-peasy! And hey, then that’s one less Warden we gotta wrangle when Decked Out II is fully operational. This is less work in the long run.”

Tango is saying this like he’s trying to convince Tanguish it’s a good idea. In reality, he’s trying to convince himself, but Tanguish lets him talk. He would probably follow Tango down a dragon’s throat, if Tango told him it was a good idea. This wasn’t a dragon’s throat. It was a Warden’s crushing embrace (Tanguish was more scared of falling than small spaces, so this was for him the lesser of two very bad things. Tango probably felt differently).

“I’ll name tag it,” Tanguish told him.

“You don’t have to do that,” Tango laughed nervously, and it bounced off the icicles and out into the cavern around them. Tanguish looked out into the field of ice like he could track the noise. All he saw was the quiet glitter. That, and skulk. There was a lot of skulk in here already. Tango had been busy. Really the whole cavern was impressive. They’d planned it together. The icicles were Tango’s idea - the better to make you feel like you were walking into the mouth of something big and scary. The floor was slick, and every surface was hard in a way that amplified noise, except where the sculk creeped, listening and feeling and crawling like skin. Tanguish thought it was pretty, but then again, he probably would.

“You brought me here to help you.”

“Well I was thinking you’d be moral support,” Tango lied. Tanguish knew he was lying, because his nose scrunched up a little like the words tasted funny (Tango always did this when he was lying). “But hey, if you’re offering, I mean--”

Tango motioned in a mock ‘after you’ sort of bow. Tanguish grabbed the name tag from him and started walking. The skulk clicked. The shriekers chirped. The Warden was silent, and Tanguish hoped that meant it was waiting on noise, and not that it had burrowed somewhere. The ice showed him his reflection, because Tango was here beside him and not in a mirror somewhere.

“This is huge,” Tanguish grunted, clambering up a wall to get a better vantage point. He reached for Tango and pulled his double up beside him.

“I know right?” Tango beamed pridefully. “Dug out the bottom of a mountain for it! You should see upstairs. The snow biome’s almost done. Just gotta make a few more ice spikes.”

They looked, they listened, they hopped down the wall and kept going.

“That was a good suggestion by the way,” Tango grinned, “the ice spikes.”

“I like tall things,” Tanguish told him.

“Aren’t you scared of heights though?”

“Falling.”

“Huh. You ever used an elytra before? I think you’d like it.”

“Do you fall with it?”

“Sometimes.” Tango chuckled in that way people did when they were remembering something unfortunate. “Mostly though, you fly.”

“Oh. That sounds nice.”

“It’s a parasite.”

Tanguish took a bite of a muffin he’d stolen off his favorite pastry cart and shamelessly eavesdropped. He didn’t have much else to do but sit on rooftops and eavesdrop and steal things - unless he was running from someone he’d stolen from. He did that often as well. The muffin he’d stolen today had nuts in it, which wasn’t his favorite thing in the world, but he’d take it over nothing any day. The couple he was eavesdropping on were a guard and a butcher, judging from their clothes. The guard, as people tended to do when they were bored and procrastinating getting somewhere, had started reading the newspaper her beef cuts were wrapped in. The butcher listened, sharpening his knife. There was no one standing in line at the stall, so he let her talk.

“It spreads when it eats,” she continued. “That’s probably how it took so long to find it. Growing up by the bedrock like that, it could only really eat ghasts if they floated too close.”

Tanguish looked at the nether ceiling. It was high and well built here, a rare gift from Evil Xisuma. There was a plaque about it somewhere, how he’d helped terraform the ceiling to make it look like a kaleidoscope of stars. Tanguish had never met Evil Xisuma, but the name suggested they probably wouldn’t like each other. Evil people didn’t like most people.

“What are we going to do about it?” the butcher asked the guard. “We’re not in danger, are we?”

“Not as long as no one gets close,” she explained. “Skulk mostly feeds on corpses anyway. But wander around it too long and it’ll find a way to get you, and with how dangerous hels is anyway, well--”

She spoke like the danger was thrilling. To her, it probably was.

“There’s only one way to deal with a parasite,” the guard continued, “you’ve got to starve it of what it wants. Otherwise, it’ll spread until it’s the only thing that’s left. That’s probably how it got here in the first place. It ate out everything else on some world somewhere, and some hels from that place tracked it here when they couldn’t find their other half.”

Tanguish frowned at his muffin. He broke apart a piece of it and watched as frost hardened the bread. He wondered how long he’d have to hold it for the skulk on his arms to leap to it.

“Oh shoot.”

“What?”

Tanguish turned to look at Tango, who’d stopped in his tracks abruptly. He stared wide-eyed ahead of them, unblinking. Tanguish was on the edge of asking what was going on, when Tango waved a hand in front of his eyes, blinked, and did it again. He mouthed the word ‘blind’. Tanguish mouthed a wide, “Oh” that Tango couldn’t see. He forgot the Warden could blind people. It didn’t work on Tanguish. He was made of ice and skulk, after all. Something about the way he was made didn’t care that the Warden ate the light. Tango did, though.

Tanguish grabbed Tango’s wrist and pulled him along, leading him through the maze of ice and skulk. They crept as fast as they could past sensors and shriekers, wincing at the little noises so dangerously close. Tanguish was starting to hear the Warden now, its grumbles and groans as it walked, the loud huffing of its breath as it drew closer to them. It was tracking Tango. His smell probably bit its nose like redstone, and it followed relentlessly. Tanguish could ditch him, leave him stranded in the ice as bait. He could tag the Warden while it was preoccupied and run, leave Tango to deal with the fallout, dive through his reflection somewhere. That was probably what a good helsmet would do. Leave their hermit to suffer, steep in feelings of betrayal and ill-deserving. It’d make him stronger, turn him into something that wasn’t hiding in his hermit’s shadow.

Tanguish was a bad helsmet, though.

Instead, he pulled Tango along, and Tango trusted him blindly. Literally blindly, but he’d probably trust him blindly anyway. Tanguish shoved him at the corner where two half-finished maze walls met.

“Don’t move,” Tanguish breathed in his ear, and Tango nodded and froze. Tanguish stood in front of him bravely, bristled like a startled cat. He grabbed an armful of skulk off the ground, stuck his tongue out at the way it pulsed against his skin. He could feel its little roots creeping on his arms, whatever odd plant-flesh it was made of reaching to infect him. Parasite. But Tanguish was made of skulk and ice, and while the skulk that wasn’t his felt uncomfortable, it certainly couldn’t harm him.

The Warden growled and emerged from behind a pair of ice columns. It took two deep breaths, sniffing for Tango, and shambled in their direction. Its footsteps were heavy. They didn’t shake the ground, but Tanguish still felt like he could feel them in his toes. It was like the skulk under his feet responded to the movement, saying through tiny motions and flashes and pulses here, what you’re looking for is here. Come get it. Come kill the thing that isn’t us.

The Warden rose like a dark tower in Tanguish’s vision, blocking out the rest of the half-built cavern that Tango had made. It leaned over Tanguish, breath whooshing in heavy huffs as it smelled for its prey. Tanguish only pressed himself a little closer to Tango and hugged the skulk in his arms tighter, and held his breath. He felt a little lightheaded, because he was scared and not breathing, and doing his best to pretend his noisy, living body was instead a statue of some kind. With one shuddering hand, Tanguish reached forward and gently hooked the name tag on one of the Warden’s exposed ribs. Its heart was loud and close, mesmerizing in the way it moved, in the way whatever soul-stuff swirled around it pulsed and flickered its eerie blue light. If it weren’t such a dangerous, fruitless endeavor, Tanguish would try to steal it. Pluck the pretty, flashing, pulsing thing from its home in those grinning ribs and hang it up on one of his favorite rooftops. It would probably stop glowing though, just as soon as it left the Warden’s chest.

The Warden let out one more long, low, growling groan. It turned and lumbered away.

“I’m a parasite,” Tanguish informed Tango matter-of-factly from his reflection in a broken window.

“What? No you’re not.” Tango scowled. “Don’t say things like that about yourself, man. It’ll kill your self-esteem.”

Tanguish tilted his head at his double, and tried not to feel grateful for the concern. Tango didn’t seem to realize this wasn’t an opinion. It wasn’t conjecture. It wasn’t bad self-esteem and it wasn’t up for debate. It was, in its simplest form, a warning. Tango should be grateful for it. Most leeches didn’t give an introduction when they attached themselves to your skin.

“I’ll just get stronger if you keep feeding me.”

Tango opened his mouth to argue, but then closed it again, finding nothing to say. Tango was optimistic to a fault. He seemed to think the two of them were allowed to both be strong, to thrive. He seemed to think they were here for each other, to help each other, to make each other better. That is not how helsmets and hermits worked. At least, Tanguish didn’t think so.

Regardless, Tango kept looking at him with that odd, conflicted expression.

“I’m not here to help you, Tango,” Tanguish said quietly. “I will get worse.”

“We’re friends.”

“We’re comfortable.”

Like an old fur coat, made of long dead things but still pleasantly warm.

“We can be friends,” Tango insisted, his voice withering. “We don’t have to be like all the other hels and hermits out there. We can be friends.”

Tanguish sighed. He told Tango the only truth he knew for sure. “I will devour you, Tango.”

Tango closed his eyes and shook his head. His face in Tanguish’s reflection disappeared. Tanguish hoped they never talked again. That was the only way to kill a parasite, after all. Starve it of the thing it wanted.

Together they lured the Warden into Tango’s glass box. It couldn’t burrow through it, couldn’t despawn because of the tag. They had it well and truly trapped. Sure, it screeched and roared, and shook the walls with its sonic howls, but eventually it fell silent and submitted to its fate. It was kind of pathetic, sure, but it would be happy enough smacking around players once Decked Out II was done. Tanguish thought it was crazy keeping a pet Warden around, but Tango had a habit for keeping company with dangerous things. He had a pet helsmet, after all. A pet helsmet who had even grown to like him. Who put himself in harm's way to protect him. Who guided him through the dark when he should leave him behind.

“Where are the other hermits?” Tanguish asked when the Warden was finally still in its cage. “Why didn’t they come and help you?”

Tango winced and pulled out a shulker box full of ice so he could pretend he was busy when he talked. “Oh, you know, they were just… I mean Scar and Grian are doing collabs. Cub is making his crazy death game. The Soup Crew are all gathering materials together--”

“Did you ask them for help?”

Tango grimaced. He rifled uselessly through his shulker box.

“You should ask them first next time.”

“I knew you’d be available,” Tango shrugged. “Besides, you want something done right, you do it yourself.”

Tanguish nodded. He liked the praise, the idea he was the only one who could help Tango in a tough situation. It made his back a little straighter. The skulk, like bioluminescent freckles on his arms, glowed a little brighter. He felt warm. He felt fed.

(Maybe Tanguish wasn’t such a bad helsmet after all.)

#the barking writer #tangotek #hels!Tango #Tanguish #this was supposed to be a lot funnier #but also i like where this went so #[shrug]#you win some you lose some #just realized maybe i should elaborate a little in the tags here #hello the idea of Tango dragging Tanguish along on a harrowing escape is what jump-started this #that's why the ask is attached #also thank you anon very much for the kind words #they are a fun duo! i just write dark things

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maedhrus · 19 days

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dear helen if you would like to do so: I am obsessed with your domestic joplittle and would love to hear more abt that au of an au with twins Susan and David, this is totally an invitation to just ramble about it! I love Dadward Little, you have them so right, I can’t stop thinking abt these two as adorable exhausted first time parents

OH i'm so glad to hear that because my brain is absolutely consumed by them!! it's very flattering to hear that someone is obsessed with these kids i forced into being!

the au of an au is really just my excuse to give joplittle kids because i am similarly possessed by the idea of edward and thomas as parents. i vary between an a/b/o setting and simply transing thomas' gender (because genderqueer thomas jopson is so special to ME) but either way, susan and david little are twins born in 1852, susan being older by eight minutes. david's middle name (michael. if yk yk) is just one that edward and thomas liked because there are Too Many male friends and relatives to choose a name from. susan's middle name is jane for edward's sister (who i hc as his twin after reading it in a couple of other fics and falling in love with edward as a twin.)

susan is a Mini Edward except for when's she's angry wherein she is possessed by thomas jopson sensibilities and guard-dog behaviours. david is a mix of both parents, but looks like edward when he frowns and thomas when he laughs. he's also got a bit more of a temper. despite being fraternal twins, they very much look like siblings, sharing dark but wavy hair and pale eyes. they have their parents absolutely besotted from day one.

i usually hc thomas' home life being pretty troubled growing up so he frequently can't believe that he gets to have a stable family unit; he teaches them both needlework but susan takes to it more, partially due to her greater patience. for edward, he can hardly believe that someone wants to marry him never mind have kids with him so he's occasionally struck with disbelief over how incredible his children are, but attributes this mainly to thomas. david absolutely idolises edward and aspires to similarly become a commander in the navy when he grow up (he does join the navy, but eventually becomes disillusioned with it). also Dadward Little is CORRECT he's very good at it!! he carries them on his shoulder and reads them stories! thomas sewed all their baby clothes himself

susan had a really bad bout of pneumonia when she was around ten and the doctors weren't optimistic about her odds. david completely withdrew into himself during this time, not even wanting his parents to hold him. edward and thomas were similarly distraught, with thomas refusing to move from her bedside. luckily, she recovered, but never really seemed to regain her full strength. less traumatically, david was once racing a friend to climb a tree, slipping and breaking his arm. he was more embarrassed than anything.

they live in ashford and are a happy, stable family and i love them all!

(occasionally i do have thomas and susan dying as a result of birth complications but that's mainly to feed my own personal angst enjoyment. in this au, edward is at his saddest and dampest and loves david with everything he can possibly, humanly offer. i do have some stuff written for this au.)

#after a pretty unpleasant day i had a lot of fun talking about these guys so thank you for that anon!#one day i might actually write a fic for them #the terror #joplittle #joplittle kids #is the tag where all my insanity will now reside #asks

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presiding · 7 months

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What is your favourite thing about Billie Lurk?

(Answers are obvious possibly but i love when people talk about her👍)

thanks for the ask!! YEAH ME TOO I love when people talk about Billie! I can't say I have a favourite thing specifically, but I can explain why she's my fav. apologies for not taking this qn literally, but -

short answer: she’s really cool

& you can stop reading there, or, for the maybe 2 mutuals who might have time to read this my thoughts on her as a character, her meta, and her character as raw potential...

long answer:

i considered making this entire thing a gush so you could read a gush about Billie. but, part of what draws me to her is that she’s not always well written, and in fandom she’s underrated for a literal protagonist.

since you ask...

billie is a cool character

when I played Dh2 (hadn't played Dh1), I was excited to see a black woman with disabilities who was captaining a massive ship by herself. wow.

then I discovered Billie’s backstory with Deirdre, the way she responded to that, then having to survive while living on the run, and her bisexuality. as well as her history with daud & delilah. fascinating!

she’s an outsider who has so much to lose, and knows what it's like to lose everything - having lost everything not once but three times - but nevertheless speaks truth to power. she's so brave! she went and helped Emily & Corvo and she must have known they might kill her! plus, she’s smart, she’s funny, she gets shit done, she’s gorgeous.

but... the meta

mild critique of fandom & arkane incoming.

skip this bit if you want - you've been warned twice now - jump to tired Hayao Miyazaki and read from there if you'd like my thoughts on writing her.

i thought Death of the Outsider was going to be amazing and then... well. *sad trombone* i've written about that before so i won't keep banging on. i figured others must be disappointed too, so I joined a few fandom spaces in hopes of finding camaraderie.

most people with complaints about DotO didn’t like how the Outsider and Daud were handled. which is valid & I agree. but it seemed like most paid no attention to Billie; when people talk about her it’s with respect to Daud, as opposed to in her own right. you could argue for fandom misogyny because people don’t talk about adult Emily Kaldwin that much either, but in Billie's case, it’s misogynoir (compare & contrast with the popularity of thomas, particularly the popularity of thomas portrayed as a white man for no particular reason that i've been able to discern - i keep asking around, is it in the books???).

i think this is a LOT better now than it used to be, which is fantastic. or perhaps i have found the correct echo-chamber? ha.

ultimately, The Fandom is a fraction of the entire picture, and not even the important bit since The Fandom is not who these games are made for. you can't make money relying on only your hardcore fans even if all of them spent a fortune on merch, this is true for any AAA game.

while it's true that Billie is underrated from a fandom perspective - but Billie as an underwritten protagonist is squarely Arkane’s fault.

it was reasonable when she was a side character - the lack of info in Dh2 makes perfect sense (if anything there was more lore in Dh2 which is kind of wild)-

- but as a protagonist in Death of the Outsider?

.... there’s lousy writing, and there’s whatever is going on with Billie Lurk, a black woman who mostly exists as a foil or saviour for light-skinned characters. In her own game there’s barely any of her own lore except where it's relevant to saving two dudes.

lore hints at, but barely touches on what race means in the Dh universe (xenophobia is stronger in Dh1; separate essay i guess), but Arkane has patted themselves on the back for portraying non-white characters, which feels like the same thing as the aesthetic of diversity we're seeing in advertising currently because it’s in marketing trend guides. it's self-congratulatory and it's a missed opportunity for deeper storytelling.

you can see an example of diversity at its most shallow in the way that Billie’s written: there’s little engagement with her as an entire person with history & wants & preferences, and the world she walks through in that game feels like it has nothing to do with her. you could make a case for alienation as a theme, but then, how do you handle the titular premise of 'Dishonored' without ever letting Billie make changes in an environment without a chaos system? it's disappointing from that angle too.

in my opinion, whatever it's worth, it was an accident Arkane created such an awesome character - they needed someone to betray daud. congrats billie.

all this said, it makes her an underdog as far as characters to enjoy & create art & stories for. it's nice to find so many like-minded, switched on people! <3

billie's character potential

she’s got a wealth of unexplored lore, being deeply intertwined with both Karnaca & Dunwall’s fates & criminal underbellies, as well as her connections to the witches & whalers, and three Empresses.

she’s lived a few distinct lifetimes and in the games we get to meet her at two peaks (KoD & DotO) & a low (Dh2 as Meagan).

her voice is very distinct, her dry & often dark humour is entertaining & fun to write. her perspective is really interesting - she’s had the widest variety of void-powers of anyone canonically, and she’s also lived through the highest highs and lowest lows.

she's got everything going for her :) i couldn't really pick a fav thing!

#i assume my followers are cool enough to let me give a brief measured critique on fandom trends and DotO #thanks for the anon question!! what fun!#i love billie lurk <333 #jumped on the opportunity to rant n rave #what part of billie isn't my fav! (im a guy who likes the bad stuff too. mmm interesting meta)#trying to be not unfair or mean- i'm not targeting anyone but rather trends. and it's ok to be disappointed with something you love #fuck it. make it part of the appeal! her writing sucks! plenty of room for me & other creators!#its easier for me to indulge my billie brainworms when it sorta feels like she's not getting as much love as she deserves #you know? i want stories where her history is explored and her agency is important so i guess i'll roll up my sleeves #tumblr is a terrible place for this sort of critique IMO- lots of nuanceless empathy-free guilt-trip-ish rhetoric #so i hope i avoided that. but not so much that i seem forgiving.#that said i'm not tagging this one with fandom tags! no thank you.#i am blaming arkane yes. but that is also not without games industry context #i could complain about amateurish writing but that also never happens in a vacuum. industry problem(s) for sure.#people love to blame writers for things #and yeah a couple really fucking good writers can push a boulder uphill #but its usually a company problem #hire lots of diverse people in your company. give them authority and respect and reasonable workloads. and no crunch.#ah fuck this is a separate essay in tags. again #THIS WAS A SIMPLE QUESTION #*clutches head in hands*#uh if you're still reading at this point im SO sorry and thank you and i love you

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ad-hawkeye · 18 days

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WAHHH I DIDNT KNOW YOU WERE A CXM FAN WHAT DOES YOUR FAV LIST LOOK LIKE (i see you’re a shiraishi fan he’s the bestest ever)

HAHA YEAH!!! omg don't worry, i don't talk about cxm too often so i'm not surprised ppl don't know!! but DO know i am thoroughly obsessed w shiraishi i want to squeeze him like a stress ball while he makes squeaky toy noises

cxm is also rly funny bc while i don't have a clear ranking for mls in lbc, i Definitely Do in cxm. disclaimer that these are all preferences HAHA my brain is drawn towards a very specific genre of Man i'm so sorry. but without further ado. my ranking.

shiraishi. my babygirl. my sopping wet cat of a man. easily the fastest 180 i've made in otome history. the speed i went from 'oh this guy is gonna fucking suck' to 'i would die for him' was absolutely ridiculous also i hope you're happy anon i went on a spiral looking up Official Images and now im approximately 20% more insane

2. enomoto! i love a pathetic guy who respects women. if shiraishi didn't exist, i would have just been like "aw yeah i rly liked enomoto" and then never thought much about cxm again, but let it be known. i do love this idiot who wears an eye patch to look cool and has a romance advice book.

3. i love. women. sakuragawa and mukai. my besties of all time i love you.

and then as for the others...

4. okazaki is funny! i like him a lot. he's really funny in both his own route and others' routes.

5. yanagi's route suffered a bit from trying to solve every problem in one go, but i rly like him as a supporting character in other routes.

[insert the world's largest gap ever]

6. sasazuka. top ten guys handcrafted in a lab to piss me off. he manages to check off every single thing i hate in not only fictional men, but men in general. it's almost impressive.

#collar x malice #asks #anon #i think the reason i dont talk about cxm (and other games for that matter) is since they arent mobile #they arent like. ongoing. ?? so im just content and poke at these guys like plushies from time to time #ALSO THANK YOU FOR ASKIGN!!!!!!!! I HAD A LOT OF FUN THINKING ABOUT THIS #also im so sorry to sasazuka fans i respect yall so much its just that this man unleashes a rage in me

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zorlok-if · 6 months

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You are making a DnD system on top of writing? And here I thought you couldn't get any cooler! So amazing! 🥰💖

In response to this post.

Akdktiegewjj thank you! ❤️ I mean, at this point who knows what I'll do, but I don't think it's anything that spectacular. It's just something that's fun for me to do and create content for 😊

#like i already make a lot of homebrew stuff for ttrpg campaigns #so this is just me saying #what would i like to change or incorporate from other systems #what can i add and improve upon?#it's a fun experiment #nothing that impressive in my eyes #but still #thank you very much!!#appreciate it anon #mythmaker

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simplydnp · 4 months

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when phil said "ny sphere goes over your sphere" about their personal spaces in dan is leaving me video...LIKE SHUT UPPPPP WE GET IT I'm so lonely

their sphere's do go over each other and it makes me emotional. dan's 'zone of collaboration' makes me laugh, as if he isn't getting all up in phil's space all the goddamn time. get a room!! (i say, while they are literally in their room)

on the more serious note, physical touch is really important, and coming from someone who is touch-starved, i highly recommend going to your local animal shelter to play with the animals there!! mine has a booking process, but they're also super chill about you just showing up and asking politely. get those endorphins!!

#'zone of collaboration' meanwhile dans not even introduced in the video its not even look its dan its just. he's here!! look at him!!#it is just so funny because how do you even intro each other at this point. you dont! everyone just knows!!#this video in a vacuum is sooo goddamn married of them. and even without a vacuum is a Lot.#i love their chatting videos. theyre just fun! and silly! and snarky to each other! and they laugh!! huge for the seratonin!!#thank you anon what a lovely moment #also i have other anons and im sorry im just staring lovingly at them rn and i will get to them eventually ya girl just has Big Nerve Pain #dnp #c.text #dan and phil #answered

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loosesodamarble · 28 days

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Nacht x Josele, Morgen x Josele <3<3

You are the awesomest of anons today! NWHCUDJFHFIENW! 💖💗🥰😭💖

Okay so Nacsele and Morgsele! My beloved ships! Jwhcudjfhiewj! Let me collect myself cause I’m behcidnwjwoq!

Nyeheheheheheh~!

Nacht x Josele

Makes all the sense and is tied for the most compelling ship!

Nacht is part of why Josele was able to open up as a child and become the free spirit that she is in the present. His mischief and confidence brought her joy and inspired her. Nacht admired Josele for how straightforward and simply good she was. They something in each other that they liked and latched on tight. It also makes sense that they'd get together because of all the time they'd known each other. Josele and Nacht have seen so many sides of each other and accepted them all.

What compels me in this ship... Everything. It's the childhood friends to lovers. It's the arc of finding new love (though they had really loved each other from the start). Part of it is seeing each other at their worst and bringing them back from it. Nacht's self-loathing and comparing himself to his brother, only for Josele to tell him that she doesn't want him to be Morgen, but to be himself. There's Josele regretting her choices after Morgen's, regretting the darkness she fell into, and Nacht reassuring her that she found herself again and that's what matters. I just love love LOVE the way that both Nacht and Josele carry the weight of Forbidden Magic on their souls and in carrying that "sin," they are each other's salvation.

Nacht and Josele's love story isn't perfectly happy, but it's theirs. And they wouldn't have it any other way.

.....

Morgen x Josele

Makes so so so so so much sense and is the ship that ties for Nacsele to be most compelling!

They make sense because these two are absolute sweethearts who see the good in the world (mainly Nacht/lh). They both are naturally inclined to good and so they could bond over that. They also have different ways of being helpful so they make a good team (Morgen being more educated can think things through better while Josele has the physical strength to be of assistance). They also brought out other things in each other. Josele made Morgen feel reassured that he didn't need to be the perfect noble most people saw him as. And Morgen helped Josele value her own well-being and happiness rather than giving all of herself to others. In loving each other, they also love themselves more.

AND AAAAHHHHH! They're relationship is so compelling because they're just such good people, to each other and others. I also love making giving people like Morgen and Josele be selfish about their relationship. Their romance is something they only share between themselves. It's happiness but it's not without any troubles. Morgen had to learn that "goodbye" made Josele feel insecure. And Josele caused Morgen concern whenever she put his safety over hers, even when he told her not to. But they always made up with each other and their love grows stronger form there. Then, when they're so incredibly close to being married, taking yet another step in their relationship, Morgen dies and their happy ending is stolen from them. But! A BIG BUT! Josele still loves Morgen. She doesn't fully move on for him when she's with Nacht. She holds onto that feeling, loves Morgen in the present tense. And Morgen, in the afterlife, continues to love her. Tragic romance that still stays strong, my beloved. And, well, they get a glorious reunion on Judgement Day, when Morgen comes back as a Paladin. A love reborn~!

I love Josele's romances with Nacht and Morgen so so so so so KDJBflahrusithaskrthaksrthu SOOOOOOO MUCH! Both have tragedy, though in different flavors. And MMMMM! I'M BROUGHT TO LIFE!

#questions from the ask box #soda asides #awesome anons #morgen faust #nacht faust #josele canty #morgsele #nacsele #faustsele #black clover oc #soda’s ocs #black clover #thank you so much for asking anon~! it was lots of fun to answer!

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