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mauesartetc · 7 months

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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.

#character design #redesign #helluva boss #helluva critical #helluva beelzebub #vivziepop critical #body positivity #long post

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lavenderlyncis · 8 months

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Join me in reviewing Olivia Rodrigo's album GUTS. I've waited years for this!!

all-american bitch - 9/10, big fan. I love it when she screams because the world is unfair. same girl, same

bad idea right? - 10/10. I know this one is controversial but I LOVE her more punky songs, I think that's when she's best

vampire - 10/10. I'm not always a fan of piano ballads, but the bridge and outro really make it for me. The hurt turning into anger and despair is just so cathartic. And the video is one of my faves of all time

lacy - 1000/10. What the hell. Did not expect to feel this much emotion from that title. Uhhh... yeah, same. I super relate to that. Whether or not lacy is supposed to be a real person or a manifestation of the beauty standard, this hits. Also, idk if I'm making this up but I dig the romantic undertones, they sell it

ballad of a homeschooled girl - "I made it weird, I made it worse"/10. OLIVIA HOW DID YOU KNOW that I lie awake thinking about all the weird things I did and said, Olivia, did you write this for me specifically??? Every day I am alive IS social suicide. I'm sorry, this is my song, actually. "Can't think of a third line", she's so real

making the bed - "I'm playing the victim so well in my head"/10. How. Does. She. Do. It? I could write an entire essay about this song. Maybe THIS is my song?? She's so good at saying exactly how I feel. I already know that this song will play a million times on my phone. Also I love the drivers license references. Big fan of the making the bed metaphor

logical - 9/10. favourite crime vibes. She's good with these songs about bad relationships. Used to be my favourite thing she did, but now I'm more invested in the songs that are about her/other experiences. That being said this song is really fucking good. This is the Olivia I fell in love with and she's still amazing at doing piano ballads

get him back! - 9/10. Olivia having ANOTHER song with speak-singing where she wants to get back with her ex?? Yes, PLEASE. Bad idea right 2.0. Fucking obsessed

love is embarrassing - 10/10. I said it before I'll say it again, angry Olivia is the best. And she's right, love IS embarrassing as hell

the grudges - 10/10. She does the paino ballads SO WELL. I think this is my favourite one on here. Because, wow, yeah, that is how it is

pretty isn't pretty - i can't rate this/10. GOD, I love it when she talks about insecurities. And don't think I don't see that skipping lunch line. It's sp hard to articulate how this song makes me feel. Especially since I've been low key comparing myself to her, even though we have entirely different bodies and faces. It's nice to know she also struggles with this. And she's right, you could do literally anything to change your appearance and you'd still be unhappy

teenage dream - 100000/10. "Is it recording? Of course it is.", the way I gasped. Okay, I love the interpretation of it ending with a child to be about growing up and childhood innocence. But the line she says?? Especially combined with the meaning of the song it feels a lot like it's about taking away youth by recording it and putting it out there just like she was supposed to be everyone's teenage dream as a child actor and young musician. This feels so personal to her while also being relatable to others. I'm 19 too, Olivia and I are born in the same year. And this is exactly how I feel about growing up. I hope it gets better, my teenage years were crap, I'm tired of being young, but it's also the only thing I can hold onto. I'm honestly terrified of turning 20. But hey, Olivia did it, so... it'll get better, right?

#i should probably stop trying to give songs numbers #they're all perfect to me #or2 #olivia rodrigo #guts olivia rodrigo #or

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tremendum · 13 days

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Me and the Devil; ii

(not my gif) .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·: Paul Atreides x fem!reader previous next series masterlist

word count: 7.1k

summary: Paul knows that whatever he is feeling, you're likely feeling a hundred times more. So, for both your sakes, he will learn to live with you, and it will start tonight. It will start with the box to his right.

warnings: allusions to smut, knife kink if you squint very hard, still the same familial trauma, descriptions of blood/violence, Paul and reader are beefing, fear, Paul has one (1) almost-panic attack, still switching POVs, no betas because i am lazyyyyy

notes: thank u all AGAIN for the support and feedback, its what keeps me motivated :) i am planning on posting the next update later today over on AO3, so i figured i'd post another chapter on here too! lmk what y'all think, tysm for the support! love to u all xx

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In the revered customs of House Bourbon, the path to marriage is paved with cherished rituals and symbolic gestures, each sacred to the planet Sabberon's culture. Though the house may have dwindled in stature over the past three centuries, its customs and rituals remain a testament to the enduring legacy of a once-great lineage.

Unlike the grandiose affairs of some of the larger noble houses, betrothal within House Bourbon is a deeply intimate and sacred process, guided by the rhythms of nature. Rooted in their own ancient spiritual religion, which has endured through centuries of change and upheaval, marriage is viewed as not merely a union between two individuals, but a harmonious life in the embrace of the natural world.

This section reviews the process of Courtship and Betrothal for the House of Bourbon, including:

Betrothal Gifts

Heirloom Exchange

Harvest Festival Offering

Ceremony: Handfasting Ritual and Vows

Marriage Consummation.

- "Chapter 68: Customs of Marriage," The Noble Lineage: Exploring the Customs and Cultures of the Houses Major of Landsraad. Atreides Library.

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The video drones on as Paul stares absently, his eyes heavy. There's a skip suddenly, jolting his head on his jaw as he blinks down at the textbook. The words are blurry until he shakes his head, resuming reading along as the documentary plays; a faint twitch in his left eye has not left since he started reading the chapter.

"marriage consummations are a deeply personal and intimate affair..." the voice, factual, settles unease within Paul's stomach. Averting his eyes from the screen, he scans the page in front of him, trying to fight the resentment that bubbles in his chest.

Among the more unique of traditions of House Bourbon, the consummation of marriage takes place outdoors, through a path walked by many ancestors. Upon a pristine white sheet, under the House's Sacred Pine Tree, this ritual symbolizes not only producing legally recognized descendants, but also the sacred union of the betrothed with nature and their ancestral lineage.

Paul's eyes read the passage unblinkingly as his cheeks burn; his throat dries quickly.

A clear of his throat, he looks to Thufir Hawat, who watches the video documentary with an irritatingly calm expression. What kind of archaic ritual culture did this house have? He can hardly imagine you practicing these traditions on Giedi Prime; This thought makes his mouth sour and a wave of realization washes over Paul, leaving him with a sense of profound unease.

As his eyes flick back to the textbook in front of him, the words blurring and dancing before his vision, he bristles. They mock him with their implications; slowly he feels the weight of expectation bearing down on him, pressure threatening to suffocate him.

He was trained from a young age for this, but it is all happening much too quick. The blood slams through Paul's veins suddenly in pounding bursts; the noises are too loud, the walls too close. Anger washes over him, his jaw clenching tight.

"Perhaps I should be studying Harkonnen tactics instead of this." he mutters, crossing his arms defiantly. "She's likely much more accustomed to that, anyways." It's childish, sure - he can barely breathe, however, and his tunic is stuck to his chest. His breathing is hard.

"Paul, you mustn't-"

His rage takes hold, though. "-No! Nobody will listen. She was one of them for almost half a decade. She was accused of espionage, her family was proved of it - who's to say this isn't one big Harkonnen plot?"

The man lets him get out his anger - Mentat training can take a lot out of one, anyways; Paul can't bring himself to school his emotions today. Why is his father not more concerned with the girl's presence?

"Thufir." Paul snaps suddenly, standing abruptly, his heart thundering in his chest.

The Mentat looks to him - Paul sighs. "I will read about this later, I swear to it. But I'd prefer to train right now, if it's all the same to you."

There is a clear hesitation, but Paul's cold stare earns him a conceding sigh.

"Very well. Your father suggests you gift her soon, but..." He finishes, clearly noticing the overwhelmed look on Paul's face. "Sit down, my Lord. Let us begin today with cause and effect-"

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The sun hides behind sullen clouds when it hits midday, casting long shadows of light among the windows.

When you woke early in the morning, your handmaidens told you that the Duke wished to meet with you later in the afternoon, and that you're invited to join the family for supper this evening. Besides this, your day is free.

So you lie in bed most of the morning, staring warily at the dark corner of your bedroom, half-expecting the ghost to emerge from the shadow again; clenching your jaw, expecting him to come out, to crawl over your frame, to trap your jaw in his sinister grip.

He doesn't, though, and eventually you call in the maids for a spot of tea.

You feel like anything is better than meeting with the Duke - In your reluctance you'd been struck with a feeling of restlessness, anxiety curling warm as a small cat in your stomach.

Sitting up straight from where the maids had been styling your hair, you'd cleared your throat; "I'd like to go explore." you'd stated, fingers aching for the comfort of metal.

They'd shared looks of surprise - you pretended not to notice. You haven't left your room much in the days since arriving on Caladan, besides attending meals and the one time Paul had escorted you around the premises - truthfully, you still feel like you're in a dream.

You'd sat patiently as they insisted you bathe, eating a full meal before the sun had hit the middle of the sky. The maids finally dress you in casual clothes and quietly, with the need to do something with your hands, you decide to find the armory.

Pulling yourself together, you leave your chambers quietly, hoping to avoid contact with anyone who may be around at this hour. You can't help the smile on your lips when you take a deep breath - It's more fresh in this castle.

Perhaps your lungs are so used to heavily recycled air within your confines back on Giedi Prime, or you're trying to find something to prove that what you've endured hasn't been for nothing; That this life will be, in some way, better than that one ever could have been.

You slink through the halls, on alert each time you pass a guard or worker, hoping you run in to no familiar faces. You've chosen to deny an escort through the castle; you prefer to be alone to your thoughts, anyways.

A shiver runs down your back as you take in the patterned wooden beams that place intricate shadows over your frame; high, vaulted ceilings, old stone that feels wet to the touch. This place is truly beautiful in an ancient, grand way.

In another world, you would have felt such joy to call this your home.

Today's clothing is more forgiving; your trousers are loose but more reinforced at the hips and waist, allowing you to move much quicker and quietly through the halls. The only noise you emit is from your cloaked veil. Momentarily, you debate just ripping the veil off, burning it in one of the several hearths in the vicinity.

A small rage burns within you, simmering and igniting more each day you go on like this - resentment for the customs that you barely know, for your house that no longer exists. You wish to see the planet without green-tinted vision.

But the image of your sister's grave all those years ago; the sight of your family falling in the sand pit of the Harkonnen arena... you swallow thickly.

The walls seem much more empty as you go further into the castle's bowels, dragging your palm along the cool stone. As you round a corner, you're stopped in your tracks upon an ornate doorway, its intricate carvings catching your eye.

There is an engraving of a man and a bull deep in the wood of the door and your fingers trace over the lines of the man's shoulders before you gently push against it.

It gives easily.

Inside is a dimly lit study; The room is filled with shelves upon shelves of ancient tomes and artifacts, the air thick with the scent of old parchment and dust. The breath you take is blown back out with particles of dust in the sunlight - several pieces of select furniture are covered with sheets, as if the room is no longer commissioned.

You bite the sense that you're somewhere you're not supposed to be. You know there is no true danger - if you were to wander somewhere you didn't belong on Giedi Prime, you'd have been punished. You doubt, however, that the guards here would dare touch you unless you gave them a reason to.

You walk along the treasure trove of secrets, hidden away from prying eyes; a large hawk spreading its wings carved in the window in front of you.

It's large, proud; green and black with gold embellishments. The Atreides colors.

There's a book that your forefinger traces - a deep blue color, the spine is old and well-read. A few of the pages are even dog-eared, the dust deliberately swept off its pages as if it was read recently. Caladan: A Comprehensive Ecological Study of Biodiversity.

You nearly pull it out to study its contents, momentarily forgetting the task of finding the armory in your piqued interest; Yet you can explore further, you hear footsteps approaching from behind.

Hair stands up on your neck.

They're light, sneaking- intentionally quiet. You whirl around quick, snarling as your hand instinctively goes to your hip. You come up empty, a flash of disappointment washing over you as a reminder of your absent beloved nameday knife.

You turn just in time to see Paul Atreides standing in the doorway, his expression shockingly guarded as he takes in the sight of you standing amidst the shelves. You flounder, having expected it to be one of your handmaidens coming to redirect you, or perhaps a member of the Duke's guard.

Paul stares at you, too - clearly, he was not expecting to see you either. His eyes turn suspicious, flickering to the desk beside you, towered with old texts on the Atreides family and war strategy.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, his voice cold and accusatory. His cheeks are red, eyes narrow - he’s harsh in the dim lighting, when you'd thought he'd look soft. You don't need to see the crazed look in his eyes to see he's flustered about something. Irritated.

"This is my father's old study. It's not meant for prying eyes," Paul's voice slices through the air, sharp and accusatory.

Your heart lurches at the implication, a rush of heat prickling your skin as you stiffen. "I was looking for a place to train," you shoot back, your tone laced with defiance. You refuse to cower under his suspicion, no matter how thinly veiled. "I didn’t intend to intrude on your father's privacy. You may give him my apologies when you see fit."

The air seems to crackle in the distance between you, thick and palpable as Paul's piercing gaze meets yours, distrust laced through his gaze even as he maintains his chivalrous facade. The way his eyes narrow sends a surge of indignation coursing through you, your pride flaring in response.

"Forgive me if I’ve offended you," Paul's words are clipped, his tone tinged with an edge that sets your jaw tight. "Considering certain connections you may have, it's important to be cautious in matters of trust. But if you're lost, then allow me to escort you."

You bristle at the narrowly disguised accusation, your temper heating your cheeks. "Forgive me for assuming you’d know better than to judge me based on the actions of others," you retort, your voice sharp with wound. "Please don't exert yourself, my Lord, I'm sure I can find the armory without a chaperone."

With a sharp pivot, you brush past him in the doorway, your steps quick and purposeful. Each footfall echoes in the corridor, a staccato rhythm that you cannot bring yourself to care about hiding. Anger pulses through your veins, simmering your resentment. You refuse to be belittled or underestimated, not by him or anyone else.

Paul told you just yesterday that you will one day be Lady Atreides; if he is so afraid of your so-believed connections with House Harkonnen, why has he not insisted you be cast away?

You've observed Paul and his father together, and it's clear he is valued not just because he is the son of the Duke but because he is smart, cunning. Your face darkens at a thought as you tear past corners, finally rounding into a familiar area.

Your own lineage is gone. A house as old as the planet it ruled, burnt to the ground - the other Houses Major complacent and willing to see it happen - and they plan to use you for themselves.

You barely see anything but red.

If they think you can be manipulated to their advantage, they are sorely mistaken. you may be betrothed to Paul Atreides, but you will never be a part of their house; your blood is the ancient blood of the Pine, of the Sword.

You'll have to be a wife to the future Duke - sire an heir, live in the castle, command the planet. But you will not go down easy.

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The armory is not as empty as you'd wished.

In fact, it is one person too many; you're mistaken sorely when you storm in, chest heaving and cheeks hot with anger, to find one person standing in the middle of the floor. You are vibrating with hurt, anger boiling over - the only thing that will placate you might be swinging a knife.

"Duncan." You greet him icily, your voice devoid of warmth. He faces you, blinking back his surprise. He uses your first name like a secret as he greets you; a flip of your stomach. You'd almost forgotten that name.

"Is everything alright?" He asks. A foolish question, really. You want to scream - Why did you wait so long to get me? Where were you? Where were my parents?

But you already know the answer. They were doing nothing. You grit your teeth, instead striding purposefully towards him.

"You're the Swordmaster of the Duke." You remark coolly, masking your anger - You know this, of course; He's been Duke Leto's Swordmaster since before you were bore into the world.

"That's right." He affirms, wary of your movements as you stride towards the weapons rack.

"I find myself missing my knife - If I remember correctly, you took it from me on Giedi Prime." You walk slowly towards the center of the sparring mat where he stands, in front of the rack of shortswords. "I would like it back."

To your surprise, Duncan nods. "Of course." he replies, "Would you like to spar for it?"

He reads you like a book.

"No honor without a fight.” you acquiesce; Fighting a man is much better than fighting a dummy, anyways - more to hit, more pain to inflict. Without waiting for a response, you snatch a blade from the rack; He tosses you a shield that you activate swiftly, assuming an offensive stance as he settles his own.

For a moment, neither of you does anything; your blood pulses through you, eager to take out your anger, eager to show him who you've become.

To show that you're the beast everyone expects you to be.

You lunge at him and quickly are reminded of the skill of the man in front of you. You haven't sparred with anyone in over a week; In the commotion of your family's abdication, the arenas had been filled to the brim with your house's soldiers the whole week leading up to your exit from Giedi Prime. Even Feyd had been too occupied to fight you; Though, perhaps feeling sentimental, he’d let you pull your blade on him that last evening when you’d been on him, breath heavy against each other.

It takes only minutes before your muscles are aching, screaming; The frustration of the morning and the despair within your stomach spurs you forward, keeping your feet under your body.

Soon, your panting and the clang of steel on steel fills the room, punctuated only by both you and Duncan's measured breathing.

It’s been a long time since you trained with Duncan Idaho. You used to move together like water, even when you were just fifteen; he'd taught you how to fight like a Ginaz - your bloodline - and though his visits were sparse, he'd see you for your planet’s harvest festivals, always with a blade in your grip and your brother's hand in the other.

You were graceful when you were young and still learning. But now you're quick, snarling like a rabid dog, lashing out with teeth and nail.

It feels nothing like it used to be.

"Have something to say, Idaho?" you ask, letting out a quick gasp as he gets near to taking you down, ducking at the last second as he charges your right side. He’d been sending you looks of interest at your newfound techniques for several minutes.

He lets out a breath as you slide past him, slamming your elbow hard into his side; A dirty move, but all is fair in war, right?

"You fight different, Little Bourbon," He's at least breaking a sweat; you're drenched, muscles fatigued as you fight his blade, straining with the adrenaline of a fight. He said the same thing days ago.

You're out of breath; "You already told me that." Your voice is faint as you wipe sweat from your brow, parring an attack to your left side. "It's the veil." You grit your teeth.

To be fair, it could be the veil - it's restrictive, catching on corners, pinning beneath your arm or tangling as you fight hand-to-hand. You can't see well wearing it.

His brow lifts, "I think it's probably the four years with those beasts."

Your blood runs cold; expression souring, your hackles rise.

"What do you know of those beasts?" You snap, heart pounding as you think of the man who'd once been your intended - who'd called you his pet but paraded you like a wife. Spoiled you, ruined you. Tortured you, nurtured you - What was that old saying, about biting the hand that fed you?

But suddenly Feyd-Rautha is in front of you, wielding both curved blades with that sinister black smile. You stumble back for a second, staring at his intimidating, lithe frame as he laughs a mirthless, dangerous chuckle down at you.

Don’t worry, my pet. I will find you again.

Heart in pain, you lash out, grunting as you swipe at his face; It's Duncan, though, and you can't hide the gasp as you blink away the vision. Your heart thuds heavy between your ribs.

He jolts back, tutting. "I didn't mean to imply that it is a weakness, my lady." He blocks a blow and you struggle for a moment against his sheer strength; with a twinge of anger, you can tell he's going easy on you.

He continues on. "-Far from it. you seem to forget that I've fought them, but that is besides the point-" He's momentarily distracted when he disarms you, and you use the opportunity to flip sideways, jumping gracefully over the water station to retrieve your blade. His face betrays a look of appreciation at your acrobatics, smirking as the pitcher of water shakes slightly.

Concealing a grin, you creep back around, launching into an attack that he parries quickly, dropping you on to your side. You grunt, kicking with your legs to twist, trying to force his body off of yours - a momentary weakness, and you're done.

He stares down at you, raising his brows. "I'm just saying, maybe there's aspects of your training that could benefit from a more balanced approach." He finishes his sentence just as he bests you, your blade flipping against your own ribs as he forces your arm tight against yourself. you hiss and twist; to no avail.

He's won.

Still fighting the adrenaline from your vision of Feyd, you snarl. "What are you implying? I'm too rabid an animal for you people to tame? Is House Atreides scared of Little Bourbon?" You snap, eyes alight with heat. "Or, are they just afraid I've become Little Harkonnen?" you snap.

He does not take your bait. Instead, he rolls off of you, standing up and offering you a hand. With a sharp glance, you take it, letting him pull your full weight off the ground as if you're nearly weightless.

"What I am saying is that I am here every day. Come train whenever you please."

You sigh, side cramping as you move from his grip to pour yourself a glass of water. You pour a shaky one for Duncan, too, trying to fight the creeping sensation that he's talking to a stranger. He grasps the water gently, watching you from the corner of his eye.

The hesitation makes your jaw clench in anticipation; You busy yourself by examining the various blades that lie before you, knowing what's to come.

Finally, he says your name softly. "We haven't gotten to discuss any of this..." he is clearly trying to put together words, but you cannot bear to hear them - you drag your finger along a curved blade, eyes squinting shut.

"I'm sorry. I…" he starts gently, trailing off as if he can't bear to say it out loud, reaching out to touch your arm but thinking twice. His fingers hesitate just before your bicep.

Just as much; You fight not to recoil from his touch, swallowing hard as you step away slightly, tossing the knife back on the rack. "I'm fine," you reply curtly, voice steelier than ever. "Nothing to do about it now."

Duncan sighs, but does not call your bluff. You almost appreciate him for it.

"Now where did you put my knife?"

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:

You're struck with an observation when you sit in the conference hall across from the Duke later that afternoon: They do not sit like a council, looking down at you - instead, the table is rounded with only one seat missing, next to Halleck. You suspect Paul's is the body absent from the chair; he’s training with Duncan, then. You must have just missed him on your way back.

Cautiously, your fingers toy with your newly reclaimed blade, its shine restored with the etchings across the hilt. You're significantly tired after your sparring, but Duncan’s words have settled a thin blanket of unease over you that pulls taught when your eyes land on the Lady Jessica. Her eyes stare unblinking at you, and though there is a soft smile upon her lips, you have to fight to resist a snarl.

The Duke is serious as he regards you, hands clasping as you make yourself comfortable; he holds up a hand to stop the guards who unsheathe their blades when you set your own blade down in front of you for all to see.

A threat, or perhaps a sign of respect. You're unsure.

"Lady Bourbon, thank you for meeting with us." His voice is a deep caramel, not unlike his son's - years of diplomatic training. "We know how hard this can be. The weight of your sudden responsibility does not go unappreciated."

You nod curtly, gaze fixed on the table before you; You've never been known for your patience. "How may I be of service, my Lord?"

At your deflection, he nods slightly, "I was told you spent the afternoon training with Duncan Idaho." He speaks plainly and you are, if nothing else, appreciative of that; His eyes glance over the short sword that lays in front of you, to the signature black leather that wraps around the hilt. Once, it had served as a claim - but now, you're unsure.

"Yes, my Lord." You say, voice serious and strong.

The Duke’s brows are low over his eyes; an expression you can imagine on his son's face quite easily. You're unsurprised Paul has become such a well-respected figure in the castle even with the workers and servants who tend to you every morning - even this morning Hestia told you of his rigorous training but also of his intelligence, diplomacy, and honor. While you had clenched your jaw at her words, you now suppose in a diplomatic sense, he will assume his father's role quite perfectly one day.

"We'd like to reiterate that you are free to pursue your interests, to educate yourself, and to engage in hobbies that bring you joy. We hope for you to consider this your home, and know that we are here to support you in any way we can." Lady Jessica says, her voice quiet but intense; much like her son.

This is… not what you’d anticipated. You sit, rigid as a board, eyes wide. You're unsurprised that your unease on this planet is clear - you barely sleep, you never eat around them, you barely speak, choosing to keep to yourself.

"We would like to know of your interests so we may set you up with any materials you may need. I'd like to introduce to you Dr. Yueh, as well as Thufir Hawat, who have volunteered to help tutor you should you wish. Duncan Idaho also wishes to help you train if you see fit. I understand you knew him when you were young." The Duke offers, sitting straight in his seat.

Much to your chagrin, your eyes burn with unshed tears as you slowly process the words. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, you're being offered a taste of freedom.

It sends you into fight or flight; your heartbeat pounds against your ribs, your hands clenching hard. You feel cornered, but take a breath. There is no hostility here.

I must not fear. fear is the mind-killer. fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me.

Clearing your throat, you lift your head slightly. "Your...generosity overwhelms me. I was educated for a while in politics and local economics, and I've always been fascinated by botany and ecology- I..." your mouth is incredibly dry, voice void of emotion. You bite your lip, one tear slowly tracking over your cheek; You really must be exhausted.

"Thank you." You don't know what else to say.

There is a small gleam of recognition that passes Duke Leto's eyes at your words, his smile intrigued. "Those are noble pursuits. You have similar interests to my own son - I believe you two will have much to discuss."

Your mouth bitters at the suggestion and you try not to squirm in your seat; For a moment, you'd slipped away - into a world where you are their daughter, a world where you aren't tainted by the last several years, by the crimes of your House- where you haven’t been turned into a monster that hisses at a glimpse of the sun.

But of course, as you'd expected, there is no good will for free: The next words set your back rigid.

"Though we are hesitant to put you into another painful situation, it is hard to deny just how helpful you could be to us, my Lady." Gurney Halleck speaks from besides the Duke.

Your eyes snake to him, your back prickling. You resist the urge to run, or to throw your blade at his head.

"-and we hope, when you are ready, you might give us some insight into your previous arrangements." He says, surprisingly delicately.

You can't help but bristle at the sentiment; the offer of cooperation feels more like coercion. You don't by law owe the Atreides anything besides wedding their son, but the implications of the arrangement suggest a lifetime of servitude towards them - and you despise owing people anything.

Perhaps, if not just the Harkonnens, they prefer you for your relationship with your bastard mother's sister, the lady of House Ginaz? This thought has several times crossed your mind, but you're sure they'd be displeased to hear of how strained such relationship became when the Harkonnens started filtering your messages.

Barely any of her letters made it to you for the last several years in your time at Giedi Prime, and you're almost certain none of yours made it out at all. You haven't heard from her in some time.

You wait a moment, collecting your thoughts and willing yourself to only reveal what you need them to know. Self-preservation builds itself around you like rock-solid armor. "During my time with the Harkonnens, I became privy to certain..." you purse your lips, looking for the right word, "lateral moves."

Gurney Halleck's eyes fly to you, as do Lady Jessica's.

"-However, my interactions were primarily with Feyd-Rautha; The Baron held little interest in me until my family was caught, and Glossu Rabban suspected me of being a spy long before he'd ever met me." As you speak, Lady Jessica's keen eyes observe you closely, her lips pressed into a thin line. You pretend not to notice as her hand flicks down by her side, the Duke and War Master's eyes flickering down to observe her hidden words.

You set your jaw, ignoring their silent communication, "I do not know much about their deals on Arrakis, but I have gathered enough about their industries on Giedi Prime." You say, eyeing them all. Recalling Paul’s earlier mistrust, you add, "I have no reason to lie."

It's quiet at the table as the Duke sits in thought, Gurney turning to whisper lowly to the man. He nods, and after a moment, looks back at you. "I'd wonder if you might attend a meeting with my Strategy Council next week." The Duke proposes, shocking you. Stiffly, you nod. "There is a Space Trade Route Referendum coming soon, as I'm sure you know, and we would benefit from your insight."

You truly have to fight the flush that grows on your cheeks, reminding yourself of where you are, who you are. These are still the people who think you are some rabid dog that they may muzzle. A pawn to play.

"I'd be pleased, my Lord." It comes short of genuine in tone, your apprehension showing.

He nods, glancing down before looking back up. "If I may..." He addresses you with your first name, a jolt to your system. "We value everyone in this castle. Plans have changed quickly, and it is more than understandable if you have felt unwelcome or alienated here on Caladan, though we do not wish it."

You let a short breath, biting back a bitter quip about their son and his willingness to chew you out for exploring the walls of what was supposed to be your castle.

But perhaps your anger and fear have been projected onto the Duke and Lady Jessica, which, in fairness, is not theirs to receive; No matter if their son is mistrusting, they have shown nothing but respect for you in this transition. You hesitate, biting your lip.

"I apologize if I have come off as ungrateful." Your voice is much softer than anticipated, your throat floundering in embarrassment. You can only thank your lucky stars that the Atreides boy is not here to snicker at your misery - though as the sharp eyes of everyone at the table turn to you, the self-deprecating feeling turns towards disdain for him; anger, for daring to disrespect his future wife.

"It was never my intention." You take a breath, choosing your words carefully. "I am not unused to being treated like a spy, even in the house I am supposed to become a part of."

Your voice is strong as your chin holds high, staring straight at the Duke although he cannot see your gaze. "Perhaps, if I were less interrogated by select members of the House Atreides, I might feel more at ease." You speak honestly; if nothing else comes of this, perhaps Paul will get his ear chewed out by his father or mother - and that, you feel, is justice.

You don't care that you are a stranger to everyone at this table and they have known him for his whole life; you will not be pushed around.

Folding your hands, you continue, "I'd like to pass along my personal apologies for entering your old study this morning when I was lost." you say, "Lord Paul informed me that it is off-limits to my kind."

The looks on their faces show their varying degrees of surprise; the Duke, however, glances sidelong at the empty seat at the table before clenching his jaw, eyes something akin to irate. The two make eye contact before Halleck sighs gently, hand falling over his forehead.

You can tell the Duke is about to speak but you don't wish to listen to any excuse he could find for his brat of a son- unfortunately for you, it is not acceptable to interrupt a Duke. So you sit, foot bouncing on the floor, as he purses his lips.

"This arrangement was certainly a shock to him as well as to you. But that does not permit disrespectful behavior." This, indeed, comes as surprise to you, having expected them to support the na-Duke's every whim.

"-As for my former study, it is now used as an archive room. I apologize if there was any confusion regarding its accessibility - I will speak with my son about the importance of clarity and respect in our household rules." His words held a note of sternness; a silent admonishment directed towards his absent heir. "You are allowed wherever you wish."

Once again, you're flooded with emotion; Perhaps they do want you to come into your own here. Perhaps the Duke's son has his own opinions about you and your history, but that does not mean his parents feel the same.

You feel a sudden spark of rebellion - could you find some kind of purpose with House Atreides, despite their ulterior motives? After all, your house was once a strong ally of theirs. The thought flickers tantalizingly before you, only to be swiftly extinguished by the reality of your situation.

No, you remind yourself bitterly. You are tainted with blood - not Atreides, not Bourbon - but Harkonnen. Paul will always see you as a beast, wife or not.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:

Supper is called later than Paul expects.

His stomach growls by the time you come into the hall; though he and his parents have been at the table for some time.

There is a box in his hand, one that will sit next to him until the end of dinner. It glares at him tauntingly; he avoids its stare.

You may not always like her, but you will treat her with the respect and care befitting of a future spouse.

How foolish he’d been this morning - flustered, angry at the arrangement - what awful coincidence he'd run into you snooping around the old study. He knows better than to treat you that way, even if he does not trust you.

Paul ignores the twist in his stomach as his father glances at him; The air is tense with their previous conversation - his parents are upset with him. But Paul knows he must amend his actions; It does not matter his apprehension. You will be his wife, and he your husband. He rolls his neck, feeling it pop as he waits.

Paul knows that whatever he is feeling, you're likely feeling a hundred times more.

So, for both your sakes, he will learn to live with you, and it will start tonight. It will start with the box to his right.

You enter through the doors, your pace slow as you look around. Despite himself, Paul's cheeks heat up; You're wearing a simple dark dress, your figure snug with flowing sleeves - but the veil you wear this evening is significantly less thick than any you’ve warn yet.

You're still concealed behind the fabric that falls over your head, but your eyes are large behind it, meeting his for what feels like the first time.

With a chill, he realizes he can see your stare, the fullness of your lips, the upturn of your cheeks, the way you take in a quick breath; He's struck with your beauty and forces himself to nod and greet you.

There's that look to you - contained, schooled to be polite - but he knows better. You nod back tersely as your eyes glow against the dark green mesh and beads that fall over the crown of your head, and he's suddenly struck with the strange desire to see more of you.

Instead, he forces himself to look down at the table.

Dinner is less uncomfortable than he'd feared; you seem much more relaxed than he's ever seen you, though your voice is still quite calculated - even his mother is relaxed, asking about the wintering sport you'd mentioned learning in your youth.

His heart hammers in his chest when the dishes begin to be cleared, knowing it is his time to present the first of several of your House's courting steps. He'd poured over them before going to train this afternoon; Perhaps this won't be the most traditional example of your culture's marriage customs, but most of your people are gone.

There's no use in fighting it, and he can only try his best to make you feel more comfortable.

His parents excuse themselves, but with a jump of panic, he calls for you to stay, just for a moment. Paul waits silently as his parents wish you a good evening, sending him a stern look that sets his teeth on edge. When they are gone, you remain seated as if frozen, your eyes wary. Perhaps you expect him to berate you again.

Gifting heirlooms is a sacred tradition, passed down through generations, where the betrothed proudly wear the sigil of their new house as a symbol of unity and commitment.

Paul's heart races nervously as he stands, straightening his dark tunic before approaching you, the small velvet box clutched tightly in his hand. With each step closer, your eyes sharpen with suspicion. You shift your hand through the skirt of your dress, as if searching for something- a weapon, maybe - but you have no chance to wield it as he rounds on you.

He offers you the box with a slight tremor in his hand, small enough that you likely don't notice; Flipping it open, he tries to swallow his reluctance. This is his duty. You stare down at it, your demeanor guarded and unreadable.

Plush lips partially hidden behind a sheet of green part -for a moment, Paul wonders why you seem completely shell-shocked; he brushes aside the thought, attributing it to the formality of the gesture after his childish behavior earlier in the day.

"My Lady," he begins, his voice steady but tinged with nervousness, "I hope you will accept this pendant as a token of my-" He clears his throat awkwardly, "Of our betrothal." He's incredibly thankful to be so well-versed on diplomacy; "I apologize for how I acted this morning. It was childish." His voice comes out strong, if not slightly quiet.

You stare at the necklace, eyes taking in the green and gold sigil of Atreides; a hawk, small but ornamental. It was his great-great-grandmother's from her wedding day, cherished for many years. After his lesson this morning, he’d searched for something that seemed fit to uphold your family's tradition - the color would suit you well, too.

He waits for your response, hoping against hope that you'll see the gesture for what it truly is: An attempt to bridge the gap between the two of you; Suggested by his parents, yes, but chosen and executed by himself.

Your eyes harden, as if a decision has been made in your sharp mind. He tries not to sway on his feet when you move your hands towards the box.

"Thank you." Your voice is much too cold. Your eyes hold none of the shine he'd seen previously, and it is with a pain in his stomach that he recognizes your sharp glance sideways. Your eyes are lethal, he decides - just as lethal as the rest of you is.

You would not be as civil if it were just you and him, he is sure of it; His parents may be gone, but there are servants who watch on out the corner of their eyes as they clear dishes.

He can't help but feel slightly dishonest, perhaps he should have waited until the two of you were truly alone.

Your own hands shake as you reach under your veil, clasping the necklace around your neck slowly. He watches with a dry mouth, knowing better than to think your shaking is anything but resentment on your part.

"It is a gorgeous collar." You utter.

Turning to stare up into his eyes, Paul's heart thuds.

"I shall wear it like a dog."

The choice of words unsettles him completely, but you are out of the door before his lips find anything to say.

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#paul atreides x you #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides smut #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x reader #dune fanfiction #dune smut #me and the devil; series #paul atreides i need you so bad #paul x reader

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blissfullyecho · 1 year

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how to study + become a better college student

*i’m in nursing school for reference*

before classes/school:

#1. eat a good, hearty breakfast. i cannot concentrate when i’m hungry because i think about lunch or having a snack. i like to carb up for breakfast (carbs give you energy) and have things like pancakes, french toast, bagels, etc., as well as protein (because that keeps you full) like eggs, turkey bacon, yogurt, etc. i like to take a green powder or a multivitamin during this time to give my body what it needs so that i can function for the rest of the day too.

#2. i always bring water with me to class so that i can concentrate and not think about how thirsty i am. it’s super important to stay hydrated so come prepared.

#3. i know the lesson plan and what’s going to be talked about each day, and if your classes are run like that too, read the chapter or look over whatever it is you’re going to look over today in class to give you a general idea of what you’re going to learn today. this will help you feel like you’re one step ahead (which you are).

#4. wake up early enough to be relaxed in the morning. every time i didn’t perform my best in school was when i woke up and immediately rushed to get ready for class and not took the time to allow myself to ‘wake up’. your mornings should be chill, not a race against the clock.

during classes/school:

#1. actually jot down notes— do not rely on just using your phone to take pictures of the board/powerpoint. when you write your notes down, you get a chance to get that information stuck in your head. what i do if my instructor goes too fast on the powerpoints is: i take a picture of the powerpoint, then i write down what she/he says, then when i get home i rewrite what i took a picture of and the notes that i took in class (i’ll talk about this later).

#2. ask questions— who cares if you’re shy or whatever. asking questions will allow you to be more engaged and it shows your professors/instructors/teachers that you actually care (and they might even bump some grades up for you if you show you’ve taken initiative and tried). every question you ask, write your question down and their response in your notes. i’m telling you, this has helped so much and it gives you such a good look.

#3. use your lunch break for what it is— a break. 30 minutes isn’t a lot of time for an 8 hour day so actually rest and enjoy your lunch during this time. you need a chance to reset.

#4. if you can, always ask to review your tests with your professors/instructors. see what you got wrong and talk it through with them. in nursing school, we generally aren’t able to see what we got wrong on our exams and tests without our professor being there to review them with us. please do this.

#5. use a 1 subject notebook for each class and have pens/pencils that you only use for class. your notes in class should be legible but not super pretty. make your notes pretty at home, not in class.

#6. when taking a test, go over the questions and answers before turning in. there have been so many times i read a question too quickly and changed my answer and i ended up being correct when i looked it over again. don’t make those dumb mistakes.

#7. befriend the other students who do really well in the class. seriously, this will save you.

after classes/school:

#1. when you get home from school, unwind for an hour. take a shower, go to the gym, do whatever you want to do to allow yourself to relax and unwind. you need to take another break after school to regroup and to find a little bit of balance.

#2. review the notes you took in class that day and the pictures you took of the board, and rewrite your notes in a different notebook. so i suggest 2 notebooks for each class— one for your sloppy in-class notes and another for your pretty and organized notes. rewriting your notes will allow your brain to help retain that information.

#3. spend some time each day after rewriting your notes to watch a few videos on youtube about that topic. for nursing school, i like to look at 1-3 videos about what we’re learning to get a wider understanding.

#4. on the weekends, i like to spend 1-2, sometimes 3 hours each day reviewing everything i learned that week. i will watch more videos, i will read over my notes, and i will also create flashcards with my own practice questions in regards to the notes i take and quiz myself with those cards.

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writingquestionsanswered · 2 months

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hello! i've struggled with writer's block for so long that i've forgotten how to write something that i genuinely like... recently i've been trying to go back, but given my current schedule and me being in med school, it's impossible for me to sit down and just ... write but do you have any tips how i can slowly ease myself back into writing? thanks so much 🥹🙏🏼

Slowly Easing Back Into Writing (w/ a Busy Schedule)

1 - For Now, Write for Fun and Relaxation - When you're neck deep in work, school, parenting, caregiving, or any other of life's big commitments, you may want to go the low pressure route with writing and let it be an outlet for fun and relaxation. This gives you carte blanche to write when, what, and how much you want without having to worry about any sort of "progress." And the beauty is, whether you write five words a day or five-hundred, you are still "making progress" in terms of honing your writing skills and adding to a body of work. You just don't have to be focused on that for now.

2 - Meet Yourself Where You're At - Even when you give yourself permission to write for fun, you may still find yourself wanting to create goals, a writing routine, and a writing schedule... and that's fine, just be sure to meet yourself where you're at when creating these things. In other words, be honest with yourself about things like available writing time, energy requirements, potential distractions, steady commitments, and other potential challenges to meeting goals and sticking with a routine/schedule. Be flexible. Have reasonable expectations. And give yourself grace when things don't go as planned.

3 - Go For the "Low Hanging Fruit" - Getting back into writing doesn't have to mean pursuing big writing projects, and it honestly probably shouldn't when you have other big things going on that need to take priority. Luckily, there's a lot of "low hanging fruit" you can go after to get your words in. Those will be different for everyone according to where you find inspiration and motivation, but some examples would be journaling about your day or dreams, writing reviews of books and movies, writing out your feelings about a particular current event or something unusual you experienced that day, flash fiction writing prompts, short poem, free writing, writing exercises, etc. In other words, things that allow you to write as much or as little as you want, and you can switch it up depending on how you're feeling.

4 - Spend Time Filling Your Creative Well - If you're limited on time and energy, don't underestimate the importance of using the free time you have to fill your creative well... read books/short stories/fan-fiction/magazines/news stories, listen to audibooks or podcasts, watch TV shows or movies, play video games, watch documentaries, learn about things that interest you, research your family tree... anything that puts stories and story elements into your head is going to help you be a better writer. And if that's all you have time to do right now, that's okay, too!

5 - Make It a "Whole Thing" - If circumstances permit, take whatever writing time you have each week or month and "make it a whole thing." Get yourself a nice/pretty/fun notebook and some nice and/or colorful pens. Create a writing playlist. Find a special place to write (it can change as needed) where you'll feel safe, comfortable, and will be relatively distraction free. Create a little writing routine for yourself, like drinking a certain beverage, starting by listening to a certain song, wearing a particular hat or comfy cardigan, eating a particular snack, putting on some mood lighting... whatever works. It could even be as simple as putting a particular object next to your keyboard like a pretty rock, a scented candle, a certain plushie... anything your mind can start to associate with "this is writing time" can help trigger things that will get you into writing mode when it's time.

Here are some other posts that may help:

Guide: How to Rekindle Your Motivation to Write Guide: Filling Your Creative Well Getting Excited About Your Story Again Getting Unstuck: Motivation Beyond Mood Boards & Playlists Getting Your Writing Magic Back After a Break Writer’s Block

Happy writing!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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arc-misadventures · 26 days

Text

The VTuber: The Ninja

VTubers are an eclectic assortment of fellows. Ranging form, humans, to catgirls, dwarfs to elfs, from dragons to loli’s. They were an odd sort.

There were various characters among this assortment of individuals as well. From dragons to knights, barkeepers to schoolgirls. Often times they were all of these at once. So it came as no surprise that one VTuber was a combination of two of these particular eclectic tastes.

Like a catgirl, and a ninja combined into one.

For that’s how one would describe the VTuber SushiandShibari. Aka, NyanNinja.

Least that’s how people described her appearance, when it came to her personality, that was a whole different can of worms to deal with.

~~~

Instead of doing, SushiandShibari’s usual stream videos; Playing romance game, to horror games, and the like. She was stuck in an unexpectedly awkward conversation with friend: DraGunShow.

SushiandShibari: So… Care to explain why you just jumped into my stream, call me a bitch?

DraGunShow: Ughhhhh…

DraGunShow: I lost the bet we made…

SushiandShibari: What bet?

DraGunShow: The one where you bet I couldn’t get, Errant to blush.

SushiandShibari: Oh that one, so you called me a bitch because you couldn’t get him to blush? That’s rude.

DraGunShow: No… My chat let it slip what was going on because they were making bets on whether, or not I could do it. So, he changed the game on me; Who ever blushes first loses, and wins their chats betting pool money. And, I lost… Oh god did I lose!

SushiandShibari: It wasn’t that bad was it?

DraGunShow: He asked me if I ride a motorbike, to which I do. So he asked if you have to grab the handlebar to drive it.

SushiandShibari: Is he thinking about getting a motor bike? Oh I bet he would look food on a bike!

DraGunShow: He would look damn hot on a bike~! Ahem! But, no that’s not what he asked about.

SushiandShibari: It wasn’t? Then what did he ask?

DraGunShow: He asked if he had to grab me by my horns to ride me.

SushiandShibari’s eyes inwidened as her mouth fell open, look at her chat in wild shock as she processed the words her friend had just said. Leaving her with, but one course of action to hearing that.

SushiandShibari: DAMNNNN! That is so hot!

DraGunShow: I turned tail, and ran like hell! I could not stay around him anymore! I have never been so thoroughly flirted with before in all my life!

SushiandShibari: Really? I thought you got flirted with a lot.

DraGunShow: No I don’t, I tend to teasingly flirt with other people.

SushiandShibari: Like me.

DraGunShow: Like you, but I don’t tend to be flirted with. Least most of the times I’ve been flirted with people tend to ‘flirt’ with my boobs.

SushiandShibari: With your boobs?

DraGunShow: ‘Hey babe, nice buns you got there, how about I put my sausage between them?”

DraGun’s voice dropped into what could only be described as her best ‘dude bro’ voice. Or that, Muscleman character, whatever you felt was more adept.

NyanNinja however looked on in horror for several reasons, least of all was the voice she impersonated.

SushiandShibari: A guy once used that exact same line on me?!

DraGunShow: Oh shit, really?

SushiandShibari: Yes, but he wasn’t talking about my breasts, bastard was talking about my ass!

DraGunShow: Ppfff-HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

DraGun burst into a fit of laughter as, NyanNinja’s ears flattened against her head as she glared at her friend.

SushiandShibari: Its not funny, quit laughing!

DraGunShow: Like hell it is! “Hey babe, can I hotdog your ass?” Pfft! Hahahahaha!

SushiandShibari: Grrrrrrr! Listen here you…?

NyanNinja was about to start berating her friend when an automated voice from a donation started playing.

: Hello Sushi, I noticed you lack of notifications sounds, and I decided to make one, adding it to your streams prompt pack. Enjoy.

SushiandShibari: Uh oh…

DraGunShow: Oi! Aren’t you supposed to review those before people are allowed to put stuff on there? In case someone put on something inappropriate that could get you cancelled?

SushiandShibari: I do! But, there is a filter, so if people say anything with certain words they’ll…?!

: Good girrrl~!

SushiandShibari: …?!

DraGunShow: …?!

The duo’s blood frozen in their veins as a shiver of excitement coursed down their spines. The pair looked to one another before addressing chat.

DraGunShow: W-W-Was that what I think it is…?

SushiandShibari: Please tell me it was!

: Good girrrl~!

DS: Ahhhh~!

The pair, for the lack of a better word fainted in shear excitement, and the coursing thrill as they heard those words, or more importantly who said those words. For it was a simple sound bite from everyone’s favourite paladin, Errant.

DraGunShow: He called me a good girl!

SushiandShibari: Like hell he did! This is my stream, I’m the good girl!

DraGunShow: Fine, but only the first one is yours, I get the second one!

SushiandShibari: Like hell! They’re both mine! Every time he says that it’s fucking mine!

DraGunShow: Then chat! Give me that sound bite too! I want to be called a good girl too! In fact! Give me every sound bite like that I want them! I want them all!

SushiandShibari: I want them too! Give me all the sound bits of him being sexy! I NEED THEM!

DS: NOW!!!

~~~

Meanwhile while, ErrantryPaladin was watching a video recommended to him by chat, he hit pause as he stopped, and looked around. A worrying expression etched across his face as he looked about expecting some sort of monster to suddenly pop out, and attack him.

ErrantryPaladin: C-Chat… anyone else just get this foreboding sense of unease… Like something bad is about to happen…

Errant continued to look about before he stopped as he saw a message appear on his screen, offering him a deal he couldn’t help, but view suspiciously.

ErrantryPaladin: Okay… why the hell are you bribing me with thirty subs if I say, ‘ara ara’ in a seductive voice?

#rwby #jaune arc #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #vtuber au

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avatar-anna · 2 months

Text

Workday Blues

2024 Masterlist

i wrote this weeks ago after a co-worker had me seeing red lol

"I just don't get it, H," you sighed, leaning back against the leather seat of your car as you waited for the light to change. Your voice felt strained, and you knew you sounded whiny, but you couldn't help it. After a long shift at work, you told yourself you reserved the right to complain. "Why can't people just, I don't know, do the job they showed up to do and get paid for?"

"I'm sorry, bub," Harry said, his voice tinny as it filled up your car. "Did you talk to your manager?"

You scoffed. "There's no point, but I swear I wanted to tell them I didn't want to work that shift anymore. I'm just so sick of—of—doing more than what's required of me and not being compensated for it."

Harry remained quiet over the phone. At this point in your relationship, he knew when you wanted his advice and when you just needed to vent about your job. The latter happened more and more as of late. Sometimes you felt bad for being so negative, but after nine hours of being overly positive as a restaurant server, you didn't have much positivity left in you.

"Need me to leave you a review again?" Harry finally asked.

Despite your exhaustion, you smiled. "What's that, now? The third one this month?"

"Fourth. Three and a half. I had Mitch leave one after the, what did you call it, 'influencer incident?'" he asked, referring to an afternoon where someone tried to pay for their meal by posting a video online.

"Hm. I'll have to bring him a slice of pie the next time I visit the studio."

"Hey, what about me? Where's my pie?"

Grin widening a bit, you said, "I'll give you something better."

"And...how far from home are you now?"

"Pulling in right now. I'll see you inside."

You pulled into the home you shared with Harry, resting your forehead against the steering wheel once the car was in park. Your feet hurt, you smelled like the food your restaurant served, and you desperately needed to take your makeup off. Sometimes you wondered why you were still putting yourself through all of this, and Harry definitely did too. For years now, Harry promised to take care of you, to take care of your student debt so you could focus on your career and not be so tired and unhappy. He didn't say it often because it typically led to an argument about independence and needing to be able to take care of yourself, but you knew how he felt, and after days like today, the idea of letting someone else take care of you financially seemed more appealing than it normally did.

Sighing, you slid out of the car, gathering your lunch bag and purse before shuffling into the house on slippered feet. "H?" you called, eyes lighting up when you heard the sound of nails scraping against wood floors. A shadow of jet black fur whipped around the corner and bounded toward the entrance hall to you, tongue out and tail wagging.

"Hi, pookie! How's my sweet boy?" you cooed. Hades nudged your leg with his nose, and you bent down to run your hands over his soft puppy fur until he eventually fell onto his back in need of belly rubs.

"You talking to me?" Harry's voice sounded like it came from the kitchen, which you followed once you straightened up and your dog was finished licking your face.

"You're gonna eat your words when you get your cute butt over here."

"I live with two boys, and only one of them greets me excitedly without fail. You do the math," you joked.

You smiled and shook your head at the comment. Harry knew your feelings about your "unflattering" work uniform, so he often went out of his way to compliment you whenever you were in it.

When you finally made it to where Harry was standing at the kitchen counter, tears nearly welled up in the corners of your eyes. "Is that—"

"Wild Cherry Pepsi," he said, his grin wide and knowing as he read your expression. "With pebbled ice. And dinner, but I know you care more about the drink with that sugar addiction of yours."

"You know me so well," you said, your voice rising in pitch as your head bowed.

"Aw, come here, bub." You shuffled over the last few steps to Harry, folding right into his welcoming embrace.

His body was firm and comforting against yours, his t-shirt soft beneath your cheek. Breathing in deep, you wrapped your arms around Harry's torso, letting every frustration you felt at work fall away as he held you.

"Thank you," you mumbled, tilting your head up after a minute or two had passed.

Harry smoothed his hand over your hair and down your back, pulling at the hair tie that held your braid in place all day. "For what?"

You shrugged, eyes closed as he began to pull the strands of your braid apart. "I don't know. For being you, for not suggesting I should quit when I know you want to."

"Another time," Harry promised. Pulling out a chair at the kitchen table, he gestured for you to sit down. You practically fell into the chair, feeling like you could finally relax as you took the plastic to-go cup into your hands and took a sip. Your eyes closed, feeling as though you could fall asleep right then even though you knew you should probably eat. As if he could tell you were on the brink of sleeping, Harry asked, "Do you want to keep talking about work or are you ready to forget?"

Harry wasn't being rude, nor was he belittling your frustration. You'd done this song and dance a time or two, but some days required you to vent more than others.

Around the straw, you said, "Can I?"

He sat beside you, taking Hades in his lap, who was happy to be held even though he was getting way too big for it. Usually, you chided Harry for holding Hades like that, but you were too tired, and honestly, it was kind of cute.

You talked while you ate, and Harry listened, letting you get everything you needed off your chest. He was quiet but attentive, apologizing for things out of his control and cursing your co-workers when you did. None of it would really improve the situation at work, but you always appreciated Harry's willingness to listen when you needed him to, and share in your anger and frustration when necessary.

Standing from the table, you took your plate and put everything in the dishwasher. Grabbing your plastic cup in one hand and Harry's hand in the other, you said, "I think I'm all done."

Harry kissed your temple before pulling you up the stairs toward your bedroom. Hades snaked between you and him to run ahead, waiting on the landing impatiently. "Good, because the Real Housewives of Salt Lake City won't wait for just anyone."

"Not a reading night, huh?" you asked, resting your head on his shoulder. Harry looked down and raised his brows in an expression that expressed he was not, in fact, going to be cracking open his book tonight. Kissing his cheek, you said, "Go ahead and start the next episode, baby. I'm gonna hop in the shower and wash my day off."

Harry, who'd been on his way to do just that, paused and frowned. "Well now I want to watch something else."

Grinning, you held out your hand while you continued to sip your drink. "Come on."

Hades, who had already claimed his spot at the edge of your bed, tilted his head to one side, clearly confused as to why his parents were walking away instead of joining him. "We'll be quick," you promised, even though you knew your dog didn't understand. But the message was for Harry too.

When you were finally in bed, watching Harry's show through eyes that were struggling to stay open, you looked up from where you resting against his shoulder. Harry's glasses were perched on his nose, his eyes focused on the television in front of him as he ran his hand idly over Hades' fur, who had conveniently found his way onto your lap once you settled into bed for the night.

"If you insist," Harry said on an exhale, turning the shower on and setting it to a temperature he knew you both liked.

"Be honest," you said suddenly. "I'd be happier if I quit, right?"

Harry was quiet, but you knew he'd heard you. He was just weighing his words. "Is another job lined up in this alternate universe?" he finally asked.

"I don't know, maybe. They argue quite a bit, though. Don't think you want to be part of all that drama," he replied, taking the remote and pausing his show. He looked down at you, eyes soft but perhaps a little concerned. You'd never considered his offer of letting him provide for you this seriously before. "Honestly? I think you'd get bored, bub."

You shrugged. "I don't know. You've said you'd always take care of me. What if I just...let you? I could be one of them," you mused, nodding your head at the women on your TV.

A nod and a noncommittal hum was your only response for a few seconds until you'd gathered your thoughts. "I'm just so...tired. I'm tired of everything I do not being appreciated. I'm tired of not being supported. I love my regulars and I like most of my co-workers, and part of me feels a sense of loyalty to this place despite, well, everything."

"We'll do some job hunting tomorrow," Harry said. "I'll help you update your resume, you'll send some feelers out, and we'll go from there. How does that sound?"

"I could get a remote job," you mused. "I'd get to be home more. I could travel more with you."

Harry kissed the top of your head. "As much as I would love that, I think your strengths lie in the connections you make with people. You certainly charmed the pants off me."

"Literally or metaphorically?"

"Both."

You grinned, cheeks reddening as you recalled the night you first met Harry.

*.*

"Holy shit you're Harry Styles."

Your hand immediately clapped over your mouth, as if physically covering it would keep you from embarrassing yourself further. In your defense, it was the first time a celebrity sat in your section at work, and no one had thought to warn you. And Harry Styles, no less. The man in front of you was probably still immortalized on your childhood bedroom wall, and now you'd all but outed yourself as a fan when he'd no doubt wanted some privacy.

"I'm so sorry, I—" How were you supposed to recover from this? Harry stared at you with a small smile, a pitying one, no doubt. God, you had one opportunity to act cool in front of a celebrity and you blew it in less than ten seconds. "I'm sorry, let me start over. Hi, I'm Y/n, and I'll be taking care of you today. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Just a water please," Harry replied, his voice soft as his smile widened, which made you think that perhaps he thought you making an absolute fool out of yourself was at the very least amusing.

Once you made it back to the service station to retrieve his water glass, you gave yourself exactly one minute to collect yourself. "He's just another customer. An extremely attractive customer," you murmured, grabbing a pitcher of water from the fridge. "You can do this, Y/n. Pull yourself together."

From there, things went smoothly. You acted like you hadn't freaked out when you initially greeted Harry's table, and Harry was thankfully on board with that plan. He was polite, wasn't fussed when a dish he wanted couldn't be made vegetarian, and was surprisingly interested in making conversation with you anytime you were at his table.

"How long have you worked here?"

"Too long," you joked. "Sometimes I feel like there's a bit of Stockholm Syndrome with this place, but the tips are good."

Your eyes widened a bit when you realized he might think you were making a joke about one of his songs—which you absolutely weren't trying to do—but you didn't comment on it, and thankfully neither did he. You talked a little bit more about the career you did want to get into, and casually asked what brought him to the restaurant you worked at. It wasn't one celebrities tended to frequent, but perhaps that was its charm to Harry.

"Had a day to myself, just thought I'd do some exploring," he explained before you left him to enjoy his meal.

You'd gotten a couple more tables since then and couldn't go over and talk to Harry like you wanted, but perhaps that was for the best. You flitted around the restaurant floor like you always did, charming customers and taking complaints in stride with a smile. Tips were key, and snarky comments or not being accommodating would get you nowhere with certain customers, even if it did kill you inside just a little bit to see an insufferable person get their way.

You didn't realize it at the time, but according to Harry, he watched you—not in a creepy way, per his recollection of your first meeting. He watched you chat with regulars and help your co-workers place orders and carefully placate disgruntled customers. And all the while, you still managed to stop by his table, smiling and topping off the coffee he ordered after he ate, which, according to him he'd done just so he could keep talking to you.

Apparently, he'd been working up the courage to flirt with you when you finally set the check down on the table. "No rush," you said with a smile before heading to another table, a party of ten that you accidentally huffed to him was supposed to be a party of five.

Harry paid, then smiled when his bill and credit card came back to him. Sorry for acting like an idiot earlier. It was nice meeting you! you'd written on the receipt, adorning it with a smiley face. You watched as Harry smiled as he read your note from Expo before one of the line cooks shouted at you to run the food that was up.

You didn't think you'd ever see Harry again, a universal truth, some might've called it. But for some reason, the notion disappointed you, and not because you didn't get a picture with your teenage crush. It felt bigger than that somehow, which was altogether crazy considering you'd only just met him.

So imagine your surprise when you saw him again two days later. "He was supposed to be in my section, but he insisted on yours. Don't fuck it up," one of your more vile co-workers told you, clearly jealous. And as you saw him, his head bent over the menu and his knee bouncing beneath the booth, your heart leaped in your chest in a way that made you both nervous and excited.

"You forgot something," he said as he closed out his check for the second time that week. Time had passed in a blur, despite it slowing down every time you went over to talk to him, which was to say a lot. It wasn't as busy as the day he first came in, leaving you no choice but to check on him more than you normally would.

"Did I?" you asked, looking down at the bill with furrowed brows.

"Last time I was here, I mean," Harry corrected.

Last time, you thought. All Harry had gotten was a salad and a coffee, but the tip he left was well over half of what your other tables had left that day combined. But you rang everything in correctly. Perhaps he was expecting a discount for his celebrity status? He didn't seem like the type, but that was the only conclusion you were able to draw.

"The note you left," he continued, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. He sat up straighter, giving you a better view of the Keith Harring shirt he wore. "It didn't have your number on it, so I've had to come back the last two days so I could ask you for it. Only now I know you don't work on Mondays."

Shock ran through your entire body, to the point where you couldn't even speak. Harry, Harry Styles, mind you, wanted your number. Badly enough that he'd come back to an average Mom-and-Pop restaurant to get it.

"No, I—I don't," was all you could manage as your entire face heated up.

"I hope I'm not sounding like a creep right now," Harry said, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "I realize now I may have participated in some light stalking."

"You're not," you blurted, trying to remember how to speak. You felt like you'd somehow entered an alternate dimension. "Here, hold on."

You pulled your order pad from your back pocket and scribbled your number down, willing your hands to stop shaking. Ripping it off the stack, you handed it to Harry, who took it from you graciously.

"Can I call you later?" he asked, standing up from the booth. You had to back up a couple steps to give him room, and you were now aware of just how tall he was as you craned your neck to look at him.

"Please," you blurted, cursing yourself for sounding so eager. Harry didn't seem to mind, though, smiling as he slipped his phone and wallet into the back pocket of his jeans. "I—I mean, sure. I'm off at eight tonight."

"I'll be counting down the minutes," he said before cursing under his breath. "Shit. I sounded like a stalker again, didn't I?"

A laugh bubbled out of you, making Harry's shoulders relax. "I'll allow it. Just this once."

Harry laughed too, then winked, and you were honestly so proud of yourself for not swooning in front of him. "I guess I'll be talking to you later then, Y/n."

*.*

"You made me so nervous," you said as you recalled the memory of how you'd embarrassed yourself in front of Harry the first time you met.

"I know," he said, laughing when you smacked his arm. "It was cute, though! And you also made me plenty nervous, to be fair."

"That is true," you sighed, grinning a little as you turned your face into his arm. "One of us stalked the other, and it certainly wasn't me."

"Sure, but one of us has posters of the other plastered all over their childhood bedroom."

Scoffing, you sat up and scooted away from him, making Hades bark in protest. "It's one poster. And you weren't even my favorite. Zayn was."

"Sure. Keep telling yourself that."

"I will."

Sighing, you settled deeper against him, as much as you could considering the puppy still in your lap. "Sometimes I think I keep the job because that's where we met."

"It's okay to let it go. We'll have the memory," Harry promised, his hand meeting yours as he began to scratch Hades' fur. "We'll figure it out. I promise."

Nodding, you reached for the remote and pressed play on the show, content to leave the conversation there. If Harry promised to help you figure it out, then you believed him.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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thavron · 5 months

Text

I was writing a meta post about the final fifteen and honestly it got so long an unwieldy that I gave up and just decided to live in denial land for a bit. But there is one piece of the puzzle I want to put out there, and that's how the flashbacks are edited, or one in particular.

I've seen a couple of great posts about how the flashback minisodes are edited in season two to be from Aziraphale's POV and not the Objective View, and if I was a better meta writer I'd have links for you, but I'm not, sorry. I've also seen a few posts discussing whether Aziraphale is a reliable narrator. That is definitely something we ought to consider when dealing with this sort of POV storytelling, but not entirely relevant to my post, but worth reading about if you have the time.

What I want to discuss is how the Metatron conversation is edited. We see Aziraphale go outside with the Metatron, this is the usual objective viewpoint. It then cuts to the scene inside the shop. We don't see the Metatron conversation again until Aziraphale is talking to Crowley. The way it is edited makes it very clear that this is not just a flashback but also Aziraphale recounting the tale. The use of "He said-" cut to scene, and "I said" cut to scene makes it as clear as the editor possibly can make it. It is a technique often used in editing to reduce exposition monologuing. Whether this is an accurate depiction of the Metatron conversation, we don't know but not actually relevant to my point (though worth thinking about).

What I want to point out is that Aziraphale chose to give Crowley four important pieces of information.

I don't want to go back to heaven.

There are enormous projects afoot. (consider that they have already discussed the possibility of a second Armageddon, though only Crowley knows about the Second Coming.)

They know about the Arrangement.

We could go together as angels.

He says all this in such a way that suggests he's fully drank the cool aid, but if we review the information without the dramatics it sounds more like a warning.

The use of double signalling ("it'll be like the old times, but even nicer" whilst shaking his head no) which occurs throughout the scene, this post and this video got me thinking about how deceptive Aziraphale is being. But he's not trying to deceive Crowley. He is trying to pass on the above information, hinting that he has a plan, whilst putting on a show for whoever is watching. He assumes Crowley is on the same page, and then it all falls apart when it becomes apparent that Crowley is really not. This is when he changes tack, and begins to panic.

He's left with the horrible task of trying to respond to Crowley's declaration positively, whilst not breaking the illusion. Which is why we get lines like "We can be together... as angels."

He also obviously sees them as a unit already (our car, our shop) and so it may not have he occurred to him that Crowley wouldn't just trust him and follow him into heaven. It's insensitive yes, but also not out of character for Aziraphale. I think this is the real kicker here, Aziraphale feels rejected because Crowley doesn't trust him enough to follow, and Crowley feels rejected because he doesn't feel good enough. Yet they are both clearly saying they want to be together.

I think the final few moments with Aziraphale and the Metatron is really what sells this idea to me. He is left undecided. He has the choice, abort mission and follow Crowley, or go ahead alone. He's devastated and you can see him wavering. If this was truly about him being excited to go back to heaven, I don't think we would see this indecision.

I can not decide just what is motivating Aziraphale to leave, whether he sees a sliver of hope to fix things in heaven, or whether he has decided to take on the role of hornet in a bees nest, but what is abundantly clear to me is that he has a plan and he wanted Crowley to help him, and Crowley said no. Or maybe he didn't. He was waiting by the car after all. Maybe this moment is what allowed him to move forward with a smile?

#good omens #good omens meta #my meta

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mysteryshoptls · 2 months

Text

SSR Lilia Vanrouge - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Lilia: Seeing all these paintings on display, unchanging from when they were painted hundreds of years ago… it sure does bring me joy.

Lilia: Ooh, that painting over there is of the Thorn Fairy's men!

???: The Thorn Fairy's men, huh… Were they really that strong?

Lilia: Epel, so you were checking out this painting too. Are you curious about them?

Epel: Ah, yes! I was thinking they're rather head-empty lookin'… I mean, they look real sweet!

Lilia: Mhm, they are adorable. And despite that, they would always be carrying their weapons so as to respond to the Thorn Fairy's whims immediately.

Lilia: That means they must have been wonderfully loyal and brave soldiers.

Epel: I see… They don't really look like it, but when you put it that way, I can kinda see how cool they are, I guess?

Lilia: Right, right? And it just goes to show how great the Thorn Fairy was to be able to command such men.

Epel: Aren't they just following her because they've pledged loyalty to her?

Lilia: You should take a good look at this picture. See how they're all just filled with character?

Lilia: It's actually extremely difficult to folks like them in line. Isn't it the same with the students in our school?

Lilia: Everyone's so self-confident, they just do as they please. Those that actually listen to others, or follow orders are actually in the minority.

Epel: Ahaha… I'm getting what you're saying, I think.

Epel: Now I wonder how the Thorn Fairy was able to keep her men in line, then.

Lilia: Kufufu… You're a student of Night Raven College, you should already understand.

Lilia: You get them to understand just who is in charge by a show of force! It's the simplest method.

Epel: True… So that basically means that her men followed her because she was super strong.

Lilia: Mhm. But even so, a show of force won't be able to garner true loyalty.

Lilia: The most important thing when leading a legion is to build a trusting relationship with your men.

Lilia: Trust can't just be achieved overnight. I'm sure the Thorn Fairy put in a lot of effort to get to this point, too.

Epel: "Build a trusting relationship," huh… How would you do it if it was you, Lilia-san?

Lilia: THE BEST WAY IS TO SHARE A MEAL TOGETHER!

Lilia: I've actually served meals to the other Diasomnia students, hand-made by me.

Lilia: Everyone was so moved that they were utterly speechless. They couldn't even bring themselves to touch it.

Lilia: When they finally ate it, there was a whole range of reactions, including some who laid themselves out on the dining table, or those who covered their face with their hands. There were some who even burst into tears.

Epel: Wow, your cooking must be amazing!

Lilia: Mhm! Once I set my hand to it, I can make any petulant kid fall in line.

Lilia: Ever since then, I've tried to make more home-cooked meals to try to deepen the relationship between our dormmates…

Lilia: But they would all band together, saying they don't want to trouble me. They're all such humble boys.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Lilia: This is a painting of the Sorcerer of the Sand's companion. His red and blue feathers are bright and vibrant.

Epel: Kinda unusual to have a parrot as a sidekick, huh.

Lilia: Mhm. However, this parrot is said to be able to perfectly imitate human voices and speech.

Lilia: I'm sure that alone was something of use to the Sorcerer of the Sands.

Lilia: Ahh～ how envious. I wish I had a special ability to do something like that.

Epel: Would there even be something worth changing voices for?

Lilia: There's a lot to choose from. The best way to use it would be…

Lilia: FOR A VIRTUAL AVATAR STREAM!

Epel: A virtual avatar stream…? What is that?

Lilia: Oh what, you don't know? Basically, people create avatars that represents them on the internet…

Lilia: And they use those avatars to promote their content of food reviews and let's plays of video games.

Lilia: I didn't know myself, until one of my online gaming buddies recommended it to me…

Lilia: But I think it would be cool to use an avatar to become a different person and chat away with my viewers.

Lilia: Don't you think it would be fun to see my cute little self stream videos in an avatar of a big, strong, burly man?

Epel: Does that mean… I could be strong and burly on the internet, too!?

Lilia: Oh, are you interested too, Epel? Then we should collaborate and both become buff streamers!

Epel: That could be fun! Oh, so this is what you were talking about when you said you wanted to change your voice to become another person?

Lilia: That's right. Normally, you'd need a voice changer to change your voice.

Lilia: But that is just a whole different hassle to deal with. Sounds like there's no end to the amount of equipment you might end up needing for it

Lilia: I keep thinking I'll ask my online gaming buddies who might know more about it, but I get so absorbed by our quest that I keep forgetting.

Lilia: I'd sure love it if I got super popular and was drowning in likes, subscribes, and superchats.

Epel: I don't really get it, but… I think it's fun to think about becoming someone you really want to be!

Lilia: Right? Although, I do have a wonderful voice, you know… It could be a terrible shame to hide it with a voice changer.

Lilia: And if I'm going to use my velvet voice, I guess my avatar should be good-looking to fit…

Lilia: But if I do that, then it wouldn't be much different than my real self… Hrrrm, what to do?

Lilia: Ah…! Does that mean streaming with my real face would be on the table too…!?

Lilia: If I did that, I wouldn't need a voice changer, or the ability to imitate voices. That might be the quick and easy way to solve it.

Epel: Eh, what happened to collaborating with each other using buff avatars!?

Lilia: Oh, right! Ah, I'm getting forgetful in my old age.

Lilia: Maybe I could have two different avatars? Kufufu, this is starting to tickle my want for a new kind of challenge again.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Lilia: This old woman… This is the Fairest Queen in disguise. This painting depicts the scene where she is handing an apple to a princess.

Lilia: Maybe you're more familiar with this painting than I, since you're a student in Pomefiore?

Epel: In the Shaftlands, there is a well-known story about how the Fairest Queen donned a disguise in order to hide her identity.

Epel: I think Vil-san was saying that there's actually a lot of different interpretations for why, but…

Epel: I wonder why the Fairest Queen chose to disguise herself as an old woman?

Epel: If she was just trying to hide her identity, she could have also just chosen a cool and ripped figure…

Lilia: Perhaps she didn't want to frighten the princess. A muscular physique can be overpowering sometimes…

Lilia: And if she is too beautiful, she would also be difficult to approach. So, maybe that's why she thought an old woman would be a good choice?

Epel: Hmmm. I never even thought about how it'd be hard to approach someone because they're "too beautiful."

Lilia: Well, that makes sense for you. Nevertheless, human thought process is both inconsistent and interesting.

Lilia: To tell you the truth, even I had a time in my life where which people would only stare from a safe distance…

Lilia: But then during my travels, sometimes I would get random freebies at markets by people who thought me just a "cute little boy."

Lilia: That's when I realized for the first time, that I AM SUPER CUTE!!

Lilia: Ever since then, I've made it a point to share my cute charm with everyone as much as possible.

Lilia: I'd get things like free carriage rides, or steep discounts while shopping… You do it too, don't you, Epel?

Epel: I don't!! Although, yeah, I have gotten free snacks while running errands before, sure, but…

Lilia: So you're able to reap the benefits without actually showing off…! Mhm, I still have much to learn.

Lilia: But don't count me out yet. Like, even after enrolling at Night Raven College…

Lilia: I'd have classmates who'd save me a seat in the cafeteria, or carry heavy luggage for me…

Lilia: Everyone was just fawning over me ☆

Epel: That's… Aren't they just mocking you, though!? It's like they're looking down on you, I'd never let that pass.

Lilia: Kufufu, you still have a lot to learn, too. There's no harm in using what's available to you.

Lilia: But that is all old news, anyway. The longer I've spent time on campus, the more people have learned the extent of my abilities.

Lilia: There were times that I've completely shut down students from other dorms who lazily tried to pick fights with me, too…

Lilia: By the next semester, everyone was treating me completely different.

Lilia: Now, I'm stuck as "Reliable Lilia-san." And I really just wanted to settle into the role as the "Cute Little Brother."

Epel: That means they all recognized you for your abilities, right? Lilia-san, you're so cool!

Lilia: Kufufu, my cuteness is supposed to be my selling point, but I guess it's not bad to be called cool, neither.

Epel: No way, being cool is much better! It's great to hear a story like that of what could be.

Epel: …Ah, it's gotten pretty late. I'm going to start checking out other exhibits.

Lilia: Mhm, see you. Okay, since Epel has wandered off, I think I'll just meander a bit… Hm?

Lilia: Oh this… This is a painting of fairies gifting blessing to a princess. Heh. I can't help but chuckle every time I see this painting.

Lilia: If they were to gift her blessings of happiness, then they should have gifted her the strength to break her own curse. And yet…

Lilia: They chose to give her beautiful looks, and a beautiful singing voice. What fools

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #lilia vanrouge #epel felmier #twst lilia #twst epel #twst translation #twst birthday #mention: vil

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