#also i am kind of confined to this role of the Happy Friend. you know? super hyper and enthusiastic and hilarious.

[needlab7]

hi i just finished your vwbb fic and im in shambles

the way you wrote wolfwoods steadfast comforting presence, the hole of his absence, his gentle kindess, his everything... the way vash sees and feels about him is how i feel and felt about him while reading trimax and seeing the way i love him perfectly reflected in the way vash does was an absolutely indescribable experience i honestly dont know how to put into words

the trust and the 'of course he catches him', the warmth, every time vash describes something about him as dear or darling or calls him his dearest friend- wolfwood is so so loved, as he should be, as he deserves to be...

and their constant back and forth and how considerate and attentive they are of each other when one of them misses a step, the understanding between them even when they cant say the words, their little 'wolfwood' 'hm?' thing with vash calling his name for reassurance or just because he can and wolfwood always always answering it, 'and silently slipping the promise of every year he has left into the margins' oh god...

im crying writing this, ive cried multiple times while reading, i cried after finishing reading, and i will probably cry again thinking about wolfwood and this fic, thank you so unbelievably much

Hi!! Oh my goodness, I am also crying with you !! ;v;

You are so sweet, I don’t even know where to start. Thank you so much for saying all of that <3 I was dumb enough to open this at work and was frantically fanning my face like no! you cannot cry here!

I’m so glad that you saw a reflection of your feelings about Wolfwood in the way I wrote him and the way that Vash views him. I tried to make him as gentle and soft as I possibly could while maintaining his snappishness because he really is a very tenderhearted person who never got a chance to be. Life and circumstance forced him to be violently defensive of himself and those he loves, and that driving part of his personality and the fear behind it don’t go away. But now he gets to be protective in the gentle way of a big brother or of a dear friend

This is the kind of domestic life he always should have been allowed to have. And now he is able to shed a lot of his self-protective defenses and let himself be as vulnerable as he wants and to feel safe doing it, even if it’s uncomfortable or he stumbles along the way. Because Vash will be there to catch him, too

And of course Vash adores him. But he also sees Wolfwood as the flawed person that he is, and he loves him for and despite it. They annoy each other and piss each other off sometimes, but at the end of the day there is just so much love and care and respect. And it’s fun for them in a strange sort of way to get to be angry about things that matter, but things where the stakes are so far below the life and death level they are used to. Things that they can get past with a huffy conversation or a few hours spent ignoring one another

All of their unspoken communication and awareness drive me absolutely up the wall. I had so much fun trying to find ways that they could learn to fill out and grow together when they’ve both been confined to these restrictive roles for most of their lives. And how they can recognize in one another just how hard they’re trying, and be respectful of the difficulty and thankful for the effort. 

They just…they just love each other so much ;; and I wanted to give them this peaceful and mundane future where they get to be earnest and then embarrassed about it, and say goofy things and heartfelt things and to reach out for help in whatever clumsy ways they are learning to be okay with, and to know ultimately that they are understood and they are loved

This kind of devolved into me just rambling about vashwood…

But again, thank you so so much. Truly, I am so happy that I was able to touch you in some way with this fic, and I am indescribably grateful that you would take the time to let me know <3

#ask #oh this is going behind a read more because it got so long #anon I am so sorry you sent me this precious message and i word vomited all over you #i just have a lot of vashwood feelings bless me #i hope you have the most amazing day

[acewithapaintbrush]

Bruno 10 years later / post Casita rebuild

What if Bruno still wasn't fond of his room and the time jump is a slice of life in his home away from home? Sure, he still loves his family but things were worked out over the course of those 10 years and the kids are grown, he's needed less and less. This chapter is his self discovery of who he is, his interests, finding what gives his life meaning after his sacrifices for his family. Which of the kids would visit most often? What is his new role outside of Casita? Where is he living? Does he befriend someone? Has he learned to cook? Unlocked a new skill to his gift that offers him comfort?

I am intentionally picking biased stuff here okay, no shame. We've lived inside Casita as readers for so long, take us somewhere new, unexpected, not the city cause that's not Bruno ... just.... different.

Bruno Lives AU but FOR HIMSELF

Extra prompts

What does the location look like a night? How is his new space/home lit from the outside and inside?

What sort of weather does he enjoy most?

A specific smell that immediately gives Bruno at home vibes (is it something he cooks often and his home constantly filled with that smell? is it firewood? how does he heat his home?)

Does he have an animal friend semi gifted to him by Antonio, to look after him and ehhh maybe spy a lil?

What is he wearing? Has his style changed post Casita 10 years later?

Hoh! you have given me a lot to think about.

I love the idea of Bruno trying to find something for himself outside of Casita. A new purpose maybe? But I would make that place a second home next to Casita. I think that's how I would go about that, because I can't quite imagine him moving out completely. Because he loves his family and he had to spend 10 years separated from them. Sure he was in the same house but not part of their lifes. But I can imagine him with a small place of his own, where he can go for days at a time and just decompress and be by himself. I'm even guessing that he doesn't get a lot of visitors cause they know that's his him time. Like a really cozy tree house (of course on the ground!). Just cottage core (a "Schrebergarten").

This need to get out would develop over the ten years until the time jump. At first Bruno is just happy to be back. He loves being a part of the family again, leaving again is not even an option. But despite being so happy, there is also sometimes this tight feeling in his chest. Sometimes the walls seem to get closer, sometimes he could swear he hears steps behind the walls. He loves Casita, but after ten years in her walls mixed in with that love is a new feeling of dread. A heaviness. He had been confined in these walls. Walking through Casita is wonderful but it also sometimes feels like he never left that small room. It's always on the periphery, always in the corners of his eyes, haunting him.

So he leaves Casita more and more often. Not to go to the village but to wander under the free sky cause now he can. His family take notice and they want to help but Bruno himself doesn't even know how to help him. He feels like he can't stay but the thought of leaving cripples him just as much. He is torn.

So to get to the point you described above, is a slow progress. Maybe he finds the abandoned cottage and at first it's just a hobby fixing it up again or maybe there is a kind of breakdown and the family gives/gets him the cottage as an intervention.

However he gets there, 10 years post movie Bruno got his own space, home away from home, where he can go when he needs to be by himself and be himself, invent himself anew. But a plate will always wait for him at Casa Madrigal

#Encanto #encanto headcanons #bruno madrigal #You have big brain energy my dear luna #That could be a fun feel good fic #Just a man finally finding happiness and himself

[dungeonpuppykai]

|| Beauty ||

Summary: When Nick had said he would love you in every shape and form, you hadn't thought much of it and had laughed it away… Oh...

Pairing: Soft Dark Mobster!Nick Fowler | Wife!You.

Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) do not own Nick Fowler. This story contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact.

Warning(s): Soft Dark!Nick, dubcon, filthy trash that's been crushing me for some long days, primal kink (? Omg I don't know he basically forces you to grow out your hairs because idk okay?), humiliation, dacryphilia, taming, power imbalance, captivity, spanking, fingering, oral (reader receives it), boob play, angsty-ish, breeding kink. Basically mobster husband Nick worshipping you in his own twisted way.

Note: Coping with my genes through this story and I am not sorry. All mistakes are mine. Feedback is much appreciated 🩷

MASTERLIST

You bit your lip and sucked in a harsh breath when you heard the door open and then close. Sucking in a deep breath, you felt your heartbeat speed up as your whole body turned rigid. 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The clicks of his Italian shoes against the wooden floorboards of his harm proof house got louder and louder until they were a few feet away from you. 

"Where is my favourite little savage?" Your jaw clenched at how he cooed his words, fist choking the duster you were cleaning the furniture with, back still turned to him as you willed him to disappear. "Beastie~" he called out again, this time more condescending, in that disgusting mock-disappointed tone of his, "now, you know what happens when you disrespect me with this kind of behavior."

Your head dropped along with the duster at his words. Oh. If only you had heeded your best friend's warnings and not dated this sick man. If only you had known just what kind of a disgusting and hopeless dynamic awaited you at the end of it. If only you had caught on in time.

Though you weren't sure a man as powerful as Nick Fowler would have stopped at taking no for an answer. 

He probably would have taken you as though you were a possession he was entitled to anyways. 

Maybe you were always supposed to end up here. 

"Come on, now, beastie. It's been 2 whole days, didn't you miss your husband, hm?" One that you had been fooled into marrying. "Come here and show me that pretty face like a good wife that's happy to see her man."

You blamed yourself more than anything. 

How did you not see this coming? 

Resolving to succumb to your role as his primal little wife that he had forced you into being, beating (strictly only your ass or boobs) and fucking every one of your refusals out of you every time you tried to stand your ground, you slowly spun on your heels. 

Not like your body put up much of a fight whenever he did.

He knew all your weaknesses. 

"Ah, there she is~" you walked to him with your head lowered and covered with the long hair that he had made you grow out. "Let me see that beautiful face" his voice was almost demanding as his fingers wrapped around your forearms. 

A whimper left you at the feeling of his warm fingers. You hated your traitorous body that always submitted to his touch. But he was the only physical or human interaction you had been confined to for a whole year now. You had been alone in his huge house for 2 days now as he had gone off for a business trip, leaving you with food and your rule list which included chores to ensure mobility, Nick had promised to be back home exactly at this time today. 

He had harm proofed the house a long time ago to avoid any incidents. All the food that you two ate was delivered to the door by his men that you weren't allowed to answer as you never wore clothes because Nick liked you best in your natural state and also because he could not bear to see you attend to anyone other than him.

"Oh hello, little heathen~" you knew he purposefully used these words to irritate you and to express his power over you. He knew how much you hated them. But you had no choice. Any kind of rebellion or display of annoyance would lead to a disciplining session, as he called them. 

Beautiful little beasts like yourself need to be disciplined before they can be introduced into society. 

Though he never would.

He was far too selfish.

"Fuck, you're even more beautiful than the last time I saw you, beastie~" moving your hair out of the way, he cupped your face with both his hands and kissed your soft unibrow. Your face burnt in humiliation as you tried to move away but he restricted you by the vice grip one of his hands formed on your chin. "How do you do it?" His fingers caressed the soft fur on the top of your lip now, pecking your mouth a couple times. "So natural," it was your chin now. "So primal," the kisses peppered down to the valley between your breasts, his stubble much stiffer than the soft mat of hair between your boobs. "All mine" his arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you close and latched his mouth onto one of your nipples. 

"Nick~" you had intended it to be a protest but it came out a needy whine. You hated it. How wet your powerlessness to his rules regarding your body and appearance made you was something that repulsed you. A moan left you now as your fingers snaked through his short hair, the man's body slowly guiding yours to the couch behind you two as he took his sweet time praising and enjoying your breasts. 

You would never admit it. But how he worshipped you in a form you would never have allowed yourself to be in did unexplainable things to your body. What you found embarrassing and even unattractive was the epitome of true beauty to him was astounding to you. 

Sure, he was condescending about it sometimes but that was only to either get a rise out of you to make you slip into his little games or when you would clench harder around him when he would call you humiliating names. 

Fuck. You hated it. All of it. 

"Look at these pretty little fat fuck handles" a loud moan escaped you when he harshly spanked one of your now well pampered boobs, ass perched against the rest of the couch. "So perfect." The noises of the suckling of his lips as he painted the skin of your chest with marks of his love was loud as one of his hands spread your legs. "Gonna fuck them full of milk one day."

You bit your lip in embarrassment as you visualized through your closed eyes how your bushy core must be looking. 

"Would you like that, beastie?" Your hole clenched around the air at his words. "I bet you would. Finally serving your natural purpose..." His words were so wrong. "So pretty and round you would be." A shaky whimper escaped your mouth when his hand cupped the curve between your legs, fingers toying with the hairs before they reached your pussy lips. 

"Nick…" Your voice was full of desperation, pussy dripping against your will. But he worshipped you so well. And at your worst, if you would say so yourself. 

He smirked as he kneeled your legs, kissing the older love bites and marks, one hand still greedily toying with your chest like it would disappear if he let go. "Did this bearded clam miss me?" You absolutely hated him. 

"Ni-ck…!" What had started as an agitated protest morphed into a gasping moan when he prodded your desperate entrance with the tip of his thumb. 

"Sounds like it did" your face burnt hot as he pressed wet kisses along your marked thighs, leaving soft bites occasionally as his thumb teased your wet folds, the squelching noise loud in his otherwise quiet house. "Don't know why you pretend to hate this when all I wanna do is love you." His lips had finally reached your petals, nose burying in your bush as his hot breath caused your core to tingle. "At least your body gets it."

A loud moan fought its way out of your mouth when he swiped his warm tongue across your flesh in a vertical motion, the suddenness and sensitive state of your pussy causing your back to arch. "Nick!" Your fingers tugged at his hair and he took it as a cue to push one of his fingers up your leaking entrance. 

"Fuck, still as tight as the first time I fucked it dumb. You're just perfect, aren't you?" His husky voice and the warmth of honesty in his words added to the pleasure. God, you were such a narcissist. That had to be it. 

"Nick…" Your hips started to sway to assist the rhythm of his slender digit. "Please…" You requested as you looked down, pulsating with need as the darkness of his eyes made you clench around his finger. 

He had such a way of making you feel like the smallest thing ever next to him. 

So naked. So exposed. So vulnerable. 

"You want more, my heathen wife?" You desperately nodded along to his condescending words, whining and biting your lip when he teased your flesh with a kiss, the stubble around his lips teasing and tickling your sensitive core. 

"Yes, Nick! Please, more!"

He added another finger to your slippery cavern, feeling his cock stiffening in reaction to how tightly your hot ring of muscles choked his fingers. "Such a slut" Nick tortured you with his kitten licks and kisses. "Always acting so high and mighty, pretending to hate this, but leaking like a punctured whore needing a cock fix whenever inspected." Your toes curled as his fingers stimulated your walls, lips sucking at your clit. "You can play games with me all you want, beastie." Your husband's voice was muffled against your cunt. "But you know you love this."

Whenever you were close, like right now, you would end up saying the most vile of things that both he and you would chastise you for later. It was always unintentional, but whether truthful or not was something you dared not ponder over later. 

"I do, Nick! I do!" You sobbed from the pleasure, back arched as you looked like a literal Goddess, if Nick said so himself. "Please, Nick!" His fingers lapped at your folds, fingers fucking you fast and rough, now allowing you time to adjust and clench as his blue eyes watched your perfect form darkly. 

Your skin was glowing from tiny droplets of sweat under the daylight coming in from the windows, natural and unplucked eyebrows furrowed in pleasure and concentration as your teeth dug into your bottom lip, the upper one trembling just a little as the soft fur atop it adorned your features in a way so beautiful and unique that he could bet it was only limited to you. How your breasts that were the perfect size and shape trembled with tremors due to how you fucked yourself against his fingers while your gorgeous thighs trembled. 

Nick moaned against your pussy, the action causing vibrations of pleasure down your spine as one of his hands palmed his cock and eyes enjoyed the sight of your pleasure drunk body, lewdly moving against his own. Like a snake in water. 

Fuck. 

You truly were the most gorgeous thing to ever come into existence.

"Nick!" The way you said his name alone could easily tip him off. And the way you hissed in pleasure, praises and thanks forcing their way out of your mouth that he loved to do the most vile things to cause an ache in his balls. Your pussy clenched around his fingers and maintained their hold as you exploded, throwing your head back as you cried out his name over and over, chest heaving as your vision blurred. 

"Fuck, I missed you~" you whispered through the ringing of your ears, pushing him back and against the floor with the heel of your foot as you launched yourself on his clothed form, rubbing the rest of your orgasm out against his thigh. 

Nick smirked as one of his hands squeezed your ass cheeks. "Ah! There she is! My primal little whore-" you shut him up with a rough kiss.

You had a lifetime to antagonize over your actions. But it would be a damn shame to waste this pleasure that was melting your insides into a puddle.

Was it so bad, really? All the man wanted to do was to protect you and worship you. In this moment, you were ready to assure anyone that worse existed out there. 

#nick fowler #nick fowler smut #dark!nick fowler #the 355 #the 355 smut #nick fowler x you #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x y/n #soft!dark! fic #soft dark fic #sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky smut #dark!bucky barnes #sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #dark!sebastian stan

[musicallisto]

i would like to reiterate that nina zenik and matthias helvar are the only reason i am still sane and capable of human emotion

#i don't think i have yelled enough about them. have i yelled enough about them? #THEIR INDIVIDUAL PERSONALITIES #THEIR CHARACTER GROWTH #MATTHIAS (DEROGATORY) MADE ME GO THROUGH A ROLLERCOASTER OF EMOTIONS IN THE BOOK AND I HAVEN'T RECOVERED. #AND NINA IS TOO POWERFUL AND SO STRONG AND AMAZING. I CAN'T DEAL. #she reminds me so much of me. i don't think i have actually elaborated on why i love nina so much. #she's so unapologetic. loud obnoxious and confident. she's brash funny and flirty. she makes jokes and she's exhausting. #she's everything that i am. or that i at least wish to be. #and oftentimes this type of character is The Best Friend. you know? the one who drags the Plain Main Character to parties and stuff #and doesn't have a life outside of being The Sidekick. doesn't get a character arc or much depth... #and all my life reading ya lit i was convinced that brash girls are the Best Friend and nothing more. #they are the lively counterpart to a timid main character and only ever serve the purpose to be their crutch. and give them cool outfits. #so all my life i thought i was the sidekick in my own life; i was second best in my own skin #but then nina came and the way she was handled - not like a side character here to assist the heroine and disappear #but as a HEROINE herself. as a MAIN character. with flaws and development and a romance subplot #and i just saw so much of myself in her personality and went hey! i can be badass too! i'm not a crutch! to anyone! #also i am kind of confined to this role of the Happy Friend. you know? super hyper and enthusiastic and hilarious. #and i'm not really allowed to be sad. or vulnerable. it's others who count on me for me to cheer them up not the other way around #(and also why i'm absolute shit at expressing affection in a serious heartfelt manner but whatever) #and that sounds more like jesper and i resonate with jesper as well but #nina being a girl + all the random little things about her #(her sweet tooth and appetite; the fact she's v good with languages) #(how she's curvy as well which made me feel better about my body - and im literally skinny so yay beauty standards) #(how she likes blond men AGAINST HER WILL (it's too funny)) #i just love her. that's all #shadow and bone #six of crows #nina zenik #clara tais toi #helnik

[kindofwriter]

I know Alex just intended Wilde’s robes to be ‘gay Shakespeare costume’ but I really love the idea of them being almost like ‘robes of unapologetically being yourself.’ Robes of ‘I’m not afraid to be queer, I’m not afraid to be Irish, I have bardic inspiration and I’m better than you.’ Because even if it means absolutely nothing in RQG universe, I’d like to think that’s a meaningful visual to real people.

Also, hypothetical RQG TV show where Wilde’s VA speaks fluent Irish and all his bardic castings are in Gaeilge? I want that.

Anyway, transcript under the cut:

SEASON 5, EPISODE 204

As the party enter the main room they find the table laid with a mediocre breakfast, however at each place setting there is also a parcel, wrapped in brown paper and with a note card laid on top. WILDE, already sat at the table, has clearly already opened his parcel, then hastily stuffed it back into the wrapping to appear polite. He turns to grin excitedly at HAMID, who shoots him a quizzical look.

WILDE: I think it's our lucky day!

HAMID: Oh?

AZU: Huh?

CEL: Ooh!

HAMID: Well, that's exciting!

CEL: Is that like a thing that we, uh, that, like, we, like- Are all the presents for, for, for us? Uh, do we-

ZOLF steps past HAMID, impatient rather than aggressive. He squeezes WILDE once on the shoulder, then takes a seat beside him. The rest of the party clearly take this as their cues to begin to sit at the parcels with their own name cards.

WILDE: It turns out that Augusta does actually have a role here, beyond just annoyance, which is quartermaster. So, Barret may have been sent out to fetch some things... for us?

HAMID: Oh!

ZOLF: Right.

HAMID: So, not 100% useless, that's nice! C-c-can we open them now?

WILDE shrugs - how should he know? - then makes a gesture of 'yeah, go for it' to the table.

AZU (BEAMING): Let's all open them together!

HAMID: How exciting!

HAMID leans slightly across the table, as if he's about to say something to SKRAAK, but they're already tearing into their present. From his package he removes a sturdy leather belt, studded, and buckled, with adamantine. They immediately put it on.

WILDE takes this to mean it's alright for him to re-open his own gift. He hurriedly shoves off the paper and pulls out a set of glimmering robes. They're an iridescence white, complete with a ruffle around the neck, and entirely covered in shimmering rainbow script. The text shifts, in a way that clearly marks it out as magical.Everyone pauses for a moment to look at WILDE, whose grin could split his face. It's been a while since they've seen him this happy. 

HAMID: Oh, Oscar, those are magnificent!

ZOLF (WITH A SMALL, SOFT GRIN): You are gonna look ridiculous, Wilde.

WILDE beams smugly down at ZOLF.

WILDE: I am going to look magnificent.

WILDE shakes the robes out, and a miasma of illusory glitter hits ZOLF in the face. ZOLF scowls dramatically at a laughing WILDE.

Still unfolding the robes, WILDE turns his attention to AZU, whose parcel is by far the largest. She is carefully unfolding it, grinning face barely visible about the huge package. Inside is a golden agile breast plate. As it shimmers in the light it becomes apparent that it is covered in the same kind of shifting magical scrawl as WILDE's robe.

Attached is a note that AZU reads aloud. Despite being busy with their own gifts, everyone turns as she does.

AZU: Whatever you do, don't use this inside.

This receives a round of curious looks from the table. HAMID and CEL lean in to get a better look at the armour.

AZU reaches out to turn the breast plate over in her hands, and as she does the text starts to fill in. Beginning at her hands, the shifting text slowly begins to run through with glowing pink, until the plate is more pink than gold. It's as bright as AZU's armour was on Hades' plane. The pink begins to settle, and as it does the magic text stops shifting. With a soft hum, it settles into Arabic scripture: the fundamental teachings of Aphrodite.

AZU beams with delight.

AZU: Ooh! Do you think- Do you think that don't use it means don't wear it? Or do you think I sh- could put it on but I can't get hit?

HAMID: Oh, it probably has some sort of, um, y'know, activation, like, similar to casting a spell inlaid into it, but I think wearing it you- It won't be a problem.

CEL frowns.

CEL: Yeah, like, um, I'm just, I-I'm a little concerned, it reminds me a little of, um, some of the, the symbols, uh, one learns when, uh, learning, uh, how to, to transmogrify ones shape. So I would just, think maybe, uh-

CEL inspects the armour, head cocked slightly to one side.

CEL: Maybe, uh, a triangle? Or, um, or a square? Maybe a platypus? I-I'm not exactly sure.

HAMID opens his mouth as if to refute them, but then decides to drop it. AZU carefully takes her hands off the armour - it remains pink.

HAMID, next to AZU, unwraps a long metal pole. As soon as he retrieves it from the wrapping paper gold lines begin to emanate from his hand and down the pole. They curl and flicker like flames.

Something alights in HAMID's eyes as he holds it. His hand that clutches the pole begins to sharpen and elongate, twisting into a clawed grasp. The once single point of his ears is now three, giving the impression of a reptilian ruffle. No one, not even HAMID, seems to notice.

CEL unwraps a pair of diamond lenses. They're scuffed around the edges, dusted with the debris of whatever they've been hacked out of.

CEL immediately pulls their alchemists goggles from their head, slips the lenses out, and inserts the new ones. At first it seems as though they won't fit, but as CEL begins to apply pressure they resize and slide in with ease.

ZOLF has been very carefully unwrapping his package - unknotting the string and unfolding the paper. Folded at the centre of his parcel is a thick, smoothly woven, grey cloak.

WILDE watches with curiosity as ZOLF reaches out to touch the fabric. Instantly a small smile toys at the corner of his lips. He glances across the table, making eye contact with HAMID, and widens the smile to a grin. HAMID, though taken off guard, smiles back with slightly sharpened teeth. ZOLF has turned back to the cape before he can notice.

Everyone is now chatting, inaudibly, absorbed in their gifts. CEL and SKRAAK are excitedly showing off their new accessories to each other, AZU runs her fingers over the text on her armour, ZOLF gently unfolds his cloak, WILDE has now donned his robes and is leaning back languidly in his chair. The text has stopped shifting, and has now settled as Gaeilge scripture - WILDE's 'inspire courage' performance, scrawled across his robes in rainbow ink. HAMID looks around at all of them, unable to contain his excitement at seeing all of his friends so happy.

WILDE: Well, it's nice to be appreciated again for a change-

A brief pause and a glance at ZOLF, as if he's expecting a gentle elbow to the ribs, but none comes. ZOLF is too busy smoothing out the cloak, preparing to put it on.

WILDE: Don't know about all of you.

Finally looking away from his gift, ZOLF notices that WILDE's hair is caught in his ruffle. He stands and swings the cloak quickly over his shoulders. Then, with a frustrated grunt of 'c'mere,' he shuffles behind WILDE's seat and begins to gently extract his hair from his collar. He murmurs something inaudible to WILDE, though we assume it's something nice, as it swaps WILDE's smug smile for a genuine one.

HAMID watches, grin now spreading far past the confines of his mouth. All sounds of the room begin to fade out. CEL laughs without sound. AZU pays a silent compliment to SKRAAK. WILDE tips his head back to say something to ZOLF.

Then, with a pained hiss, HAMID collapses forward, clawed hands gripping the edge of the table.

Suddenly the room is LOUD. Cries of 'Hamid!' 'What's wrong?' 'You alright?'

WILDE grips ZOLF's hand to his shoulder, now sitting bolt upright. SKRAAK is already looking round for an enemy. AZU reaches out to place a hand on HAMID's back, but as she does so the fabric of his suit begins to writhe. Two small holes are torn as brassy talons claw their way out of HAMID's back. These are quickly followed by the unfurling of immense, brass dragon's wings.

Breathing heavily, HAMID straightens again, glancing behind him. Everyone else is in utter shock.

HAMID (SOFT, SURPRISED, THOUGH NOT AT ALL DISAPPOINTED): Oh!

#rqg #the rusty quill gaming podcast #zolf smith #azu rqg #hamid saleh haroun al tahan #cel sidebottom #skraak #oscar wilde rqg #zoscar #i just had thoughts ok #ok #so many #i just wanna make tv shows #you know this about me by now

[petri808]

Oh look at the date! Klance ficlet for @diablosart they know why lol 😏

“What the hell we’re you thinking?!” Keith snapped as he popped his helmet off and chucked it hard at the ground. “Thanks to you were now trapped in a cave in!”

“Look, I’m sorry! I got distracted!” Lance snapped back.

“By what?! We were supposed to be scanning for the jababian dagger. What were you doing, watching your smut videos again?!”

Lance pulled off his helmet with a scoff. “First off, I don’t watch smut videos. Second, even if I did, that’s none of your business. And third, no, I was scanning, just wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

Keith rolled his eyes and spat back with a sarcastic riff. “Well that explains why you knocked both our cats out of the damn air crashing us into this place!”

Using a flashlight, Keith scanned the inside of the cave and noticed a lot of fractures spanning the walls. According to the computer in his Lion, the cave was full of an unstable and weak type of volcanic rock. ‘No wonder it caved in so easily…’ He groaned again. “Just great, if we try to blast our way out, it might collapse the ceiling on us.” Keith walked over to his helmet and picked it up. “I’ll need to do a thorough analysis before attempting to break free. The computers on the ship could do a better job scanning this cave, but they won’t arrive until morning.”

“Are you serious?! We’re stuck in here?!”

“At least for the night, so, stop your bitching since you’re the one who got us into this mess! Why don’t you start a fire while I get to work with the computer.”

“Fine,” Lance stomped away muttering to himself. He was just happy Keith was too irritated and didn’t press him further on what he’d been distracted about.

The pair had been sent ahead of the rest of the Voltron group to look for some kind of special dagger. Lance couldn’t remember what was so important about it, just that it possessed magical properties and they didn’t want it falling into the enemy’s hands. A distress signal was sent out to their ship, so now they just needed to settle in and stay warm until help arrived. He managed to find a cache of old animal bones deeper in the cave to use as fuel for the fire, coupled with some dried leaves and tetrodontyl feathers that must have blown in over the years for kindling. Whether it would last the night was yet to be seen, but it was all he had to work with. Their Lions only held so much in terms of supplies because they weren’t meant to hold long term reserves. But luckily there were emergency blankets and some instant rations they could eat.

Lance never realized just how cold and uninviting a cave could truly be until he became stuck in one. It was creepy with the sounds of bugs scurrying in the darkness, water drops echoing through the silent air, and occasional cracking sounds from any temperature fluctuations. He hated the quiet emptiness because it left open room for his mind to wander and more thoughts to break through as he stared into the flames of their campfire. Lance frowned and brows furrowed, remembering the distraction that led to this debacle. Of course, this was the opposite of what he would have wanted! Their lions sustained damage, and to be stuck, alone, with the reason for his distracted mind was causing his stomach to turn inside out.

Maybe Lance should have pushed Keith harder to drag Pidge or Hunk or Allura along on this trip and not him, anyone but him. He didn’t want to come. Didn’t want to be alone with the man. Hasn’t, for a while now ever since he’d developed different feelings for the guy. ‘How ironic,’ Lance groaned in his head. To go from professional jealousy to romantic pining, he was such a fool. Could anyone blame him? Keith was handsome and smart, but not surprisingly it took someone who could be as hot-headed as himself to catch his eye. Or maybe it was surprising if Lance really thought about it. Girls easily caught his attention, but with Keith it was an attraction that grew through close working confines and of admiration. In essence, he fell for the character of the man and not just for his looks.

“Oi?” Keith snapped his fingers to get Lance’s attention. “The eta is now 8 hours till Shiro and the rest get here.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, okay.” Lance responded in a rather distracted tone that mirrored the monotonous looping thoughts in his head. He felt horrible about causing this disaster in the mission while at the same time kept thinking about Keith…

“That’s all you can say?” Keith questioned his teammate. “Okay?” But when he received no response, he pushed the man’s shoulder hard. “What is going on with you lately Lance? You’ve been distracted a lot and it’s starting to affect your performance.”

“Am I not allowed to have a bad day?” Lance retorted. “Everyone has their bad days, man, it’s not always a crisis.”

Keith sighed. His anger had dissipated but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still annoyed. He thought they were close enough friends that would turn to each other if something was wrong, but apparently he was mistaken. “It’s my job as the leader to worry, so cut the bullshit Lance. I know enough to know something is really bothering you. If you don’t wanna talk about it, fine, but you need to figure it out cause this,” he gestured to their damaged lions, “can’t keep happening.”

“I know, I know,” Lance dropped his head with a long exhale. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to screw up. It’s just— there’s something eating me up and I have no idea what to about it.”

A silence took hold as the two men sat there illuminated by the fire’s light. Keith didn’t want to keep pushing, but he could see the angst on Lances face and it bothered him. In all the years they’ve known each other, there was only one other time he’d ever seen the man so… sad? But it couldn’t be for the same reason, because if Lance had met a new girl he was interested in, Keith was certain he would have heard about it immediately. Lance wasn’t exactly shy about the subject unlike himself. So, what could it be? Keith stared at the fire as he pondered what to say next, but nothing really felt right to say to his friend. This wasn’t exactly a topic he was skilled in with his own little buried secret. For the next couple of hours, they stayed that way, shifting only to stoke the fire or eat some of the rations they had available. It would probably be a great idea to get some rest, but neither made a move to do so. Just… kept staring in awkward silence at a dying fire.

The temperature change in the cavern was slower than it would have been if exposed to the outside air, but nonetheless, by the mid-way mark of their wait the pair could feel it dropping. Blankets were pulled tighter around their bodies in an effort to hold back the cold, and the men had moved closer together to conserve the body heat between them. Maybe it was the exhaustion kicking in, but the limited distance no longer bothered Lance. The hours of silent reflection were also leading him to one conclusion. If he wanted to stop the frustration, coming clean was the best solution. Yet one thing kept holding him back from making the leap— the proverbial aftermath.

Yeah, so telling Keith how he really felt might take the weight off his shoulders, but what would happen after that? What if Keith is disgusted? He’ll not only lose a friend, but how could they continue working together? That would be so uncomfortable! Lance groaned in his head. Would he be willing to give up his role in Voltron? What if Keith ended up leaving instead, causing him to feel guilty about it? Would the others hold it against him? Maybe if they talked it out, they can work out something amicable… ‘Argh!’ Lance screamed in his head as cradled his lowered head. Why did he fall for a teammate!

Keith looked over at the movement and saw Lance’s demeanor. “If you’re tired, why don’t you rest?”

“It’s not that,” Lance mumbled. “I mean I am, but it’s not that.”

“Oh…”

“Have you ever had a crush on someone but didn’t know how to tell them?”

‘So it is over a girl…’ Keith’s brow raised. “Why can’t you tell them?”

“Because, it’s awkward when you’ve known them for so long.”

‘Huh, so maybe it is Allura.’ Keith couldn’t say he was surprised, but it stung just a little. “You should probably just tell them, I mean if it’s eating you up this bad, isn’t it better to just know how they feel too?”

“I don’t know…” Lance sighed. “It’s not like they’ve ever given me a reason to think they’d like me back.”

“Still, once you do know, you can start moving forward again, cause right now you’re stuck and that’s worse.”

Lance glanced over to Keith who was looking in his direction. The man was right. Didn’t make a decision any easier… but he was probably right and all he could do is hope for the best. That didn’t mean he was ready to face Keith head-on either or see the physical reaction the man might have. Lance turned his head away and kept his arms wrapped tightly around himself for protection. “It’s… you…” he mumbled quietly.

“Come again? I didn’t catch that.”

“I said… It’s you.” Lance mumbled again, but this time a little louder.

“Me??”

“See, yeah, I told you it would be awkward— just forget I said anything. I feel better just getting it out.”

Keith forced Lance to turn back to him. “No, I mean I was just surprised cause you’re always chasing after women, but—”

“I’ll just drop it and move on,” Lance cut him off. “I don’t wanna make you feel uncomfortable.”

“But that’s the thing,” Keith interjected, “I’m not. It’s okay because I’ve liked you too but I just thought you weren’t into guys.”

Lances eyes flashed wide. He really hadn’t expected such a response, especially not this quickly. “You do?” His voice trembled as he verified the man’s statement.

“Yeah…” Keith blushed. “I don’t exactly have experience in this stuff, but I like you too Lance.”

Lance jumped up in excitement. “Wow— for once my screw up turned out to be a good thing!”

“Uh-huh…” Keith chuckled. “But don’t do that again!”

#klance #voltron #lance mcclain #keith voltron #klance ficlet #klance fanfiction

[eremiie]

i saw this post here and just wanted to dissect everything lmao

aot 139 spoilers 

“Eren admits that he literally killed 80% of the world’s population, he then says he only did it so it would look like eldians stopped a threat”

eren admit to killing 80% of the population bc he did... he’s admitting to what he did, and he says that he wanted to paint them to be the heroes— but not only did he do that, he ended the curse of ymir and gained freedom for his people. it wasn’t just to paint them as heroes

“He also did it so the rest of the world couldnt murder them”

he didn’t “also” do it for that reason, it was an effect, the rumbling ended up killing so many people that they can’t wage war on the eldians like eren says, it keeps them a little safe which they needed especially since some of humanity knows that paradis is what started the rumbling. it’s a cause and effect type thing. because eren killed 80% of the population that remaining population won’t be able to retaliate and try to kill the eldians since there are so little of them

the tybur family is treated like some of martyr and apparently pulling the strings which led to the deaths of millions of innocent eldians was actually a GOOD thing

this scene was interpreted wrong, armin says “...so you want us to be like the tyburs after the great titan war? we’re supposed to protect paradis from reprisal from humanity outside the walls?” he’s asking eren if that’s what they’re gonna do, he never says it’s a good thing. then that’s when eren explains that either way so much of humanity is destroyed that they wouldn’t be able to retaliate if they wanted to

Armin THANKS him for it

armin thanks eren for doing what he did to free them. not thanking eren for for mass murder period. it’s because of eren that the curse is lifted and that they are free and that’s what armin’s thanking eren for. mass murder is inexcusable, and eren knows that. that’s why after he panics and goes “but i dont want to die!” he comes to a realization that all the people he killed didn’t want to either, that the only way to atone for his sins is by dying himself. even if he didn’t die he would’ve probably been executed, or imprisoned for the rest of the life. just like in mikasa’s ova, “eren’s death is inevitable, no matter what reality you go to eren will always die because he carries death within himself.” 

in another translation of the chapter armin thanks eren for being the bad guy so that they could win. he knows what eren did was bad. he’s not excusing it, he just understands why eren had to do it and that eren had no choice if he wanted them to be free. 

from the get go freedom was one of the themes of eren’s character. if eren lived the whole entire world would be ruins and eren would’ve been even sadder than now, there would be nobody and it would’ve been worse than it is now. eren killing everyone was definitely not the ending to go. the ending we have could’ve been executed differently, sure, but in my eyes since i get the gist i think isa did an amazing job portraying what he had in mind. 

“Armin is more upset with Eren saying he doesnt know how he feels about Mikasa moving on than mass genocide”

once again, armin isn’t all that upset with eren because he understands that eren had a path laid out for him that he had no choice to follow. the point of eren committing mass genocide keeps getting brought up as if it’s not know that mass genocide is a terrible thing. it is and that’s why everyone was so angry about it from the get go, that’s why that one plan of blackmailing humanity with the rumbling and not actually go through with it was brought up once— because they knew how cruel it is. armin knew how cruel it is as i believe it was him who brought that up

he’s upset with eren about mikasa’s feelings in like a banter kind of way. it’s like “this whole entire time this is how you felt but you couldn’t tell her that and let her suffer???? don’t forget what you said to her, she went through hell!” kind of thing. they had already talked about the whole mass genocide thing, mikasa was the next topic of discussion

“Eren then finally shows some fucking emotion and cries abt how he doesn’t want mikasa to be with anyone but him”

in another post i say, "okay so first i think the issue is that a lot of people fail to realize that the way eren acted all throughout season 4 isn’t eren really, that is him putting his emotions at bay so that he can complete something that he laid out for himself for his friends.eren from season 1-3 still exists, and that’s lowkey the eren that was talking the whole time in chapter 139— you can see the how he cares for his friends, you can see the desperation again, the compassion, everything in between.” 

eren is still that s1-3 eren, season 4 eren just had to put his emotions aside so he could walk on the path that ymir put in front of him. 

him crying over mikasa was one of his selfish desires coming to light, and it was realistic. it’s finally dawning on him that he’s gonna die, he’s finally getting to sit down and ponder about mikasa, he’s getting desperate, he’s panicking, and that compassion that he’s always had for his friends is showing through again. this gives realism to his character— it makes his character all the more human. one second he’s complaining about how he doesn’t want to die and wants to be with his friends bc its crashing on him, and the very next second he’s trying to be at peace with himself, realising that the only way to atone for what he caused is by dying. one second he’s complaining about how he wants miksa to be with anyone but him, the next second he’s coming to terms with himself and that mikasa needs to move on, because he loves her and wants her to live a long and happy life even if it means without him. the selfishness that showed for that mere second makes his character realistic. it shows that he’s still whiny, that little whiny angry boy from s1-3. he was never heartless and he was never cold. he was and is still eren jaeger, and you get a glimpse of the eren we know in that scene.

The founder ymir was apparently in love with the king???? another women stupidly devoted to a man, great.

i’m not too in depth with ymirs story so im not gonna speak too much about this because i myself do wish that whole love thingy went more into depth. i get how mikasa and ymir parallel each other, but other than that i’m not too sure myself, and i’ll admit that. it could be a case of stockholm syndrome, it could be that bc ymir was infatuated with living and she was confined to such a familial role she wanted to live in that role again with the king bc he’s the only person who gave her that familial lifestyle. i’m not sure. but if anything mikasa was im pretty sure the only character “devoted” to a man in aot. and it was because of the role eren played in her life, she’s not a bad written character, she has her developement. which i explain here

apparently mikasa’s unhealthy devotion to eren is what took her out of it????? in fact the series overly romanticizes mikasa’s love for eren despite the two having no chemistry and eren being an ass to her

in a sense, but that’s a simple minded way of saying it. ymir’s devotion to king fritz was unhealthy, eren describes it as “agony of love” because it was pretty unhealthy obvi. like i said ymir and mikasa parallel each other, and seeing mikasa be able to let go and kill the one she loves was that realization for ymir that she was able to do the same thing— that’s how i interpret that scene personally.

and in mikasa doing so, killing eren lifts that curse of ymir and frees ymir regardless, so ymir was happy about that as well. thanks to mikasa for cutting eren’s head off. 

the series doesn’t necessarily over romanticize mikasa’s love for eren in my opinion. how i see it is that since eren is a big part of mikasa’s character he was necessary for her development as well, and her development was to let eren go because of how infatuated she was with him. this being said the series points out how unhealthy the way she loved him was especially in s1-3, and her love becomes more healthy when she gets her development in chap 139, finally being able to let eren go and move on. compare that to in the s1 when eren almost dies and she’s ready to die as well. thats development if you ask me. 

one of the themes of the show is sacrifice, and almost every character has made one, mikasa sacrifices eren— she kills him and she chooses to go through with that decision despite how much she loves him. 

eren was definitely mean to mikasa in s1-3 because she was overbearing, and thats one reason why i say the way she loved him was unhealthy at first. eren wasn’t able to reciprocate her love in the way that she loved him because it wasn’t healthy. eren also wasn’t able to reciprocate it because the last thing he was focused on was the concept of love. once again he had a path laid out for him that he had no choice but to follow, and mikasa didn’t have any play in this path until the very end, so the boy who keeps moving forward does just that and doesn’t pay her much mind, doesn’t get to sit down and think about his feelings for her, what she is to him.

(and i dont think i even need to explain the “mikasa i’ve always hated you seen, the chapter covers that enough)

they do have chemistry time to time, the eren v dina fritz scene, the scarf scene, “what am i to you”, little stuff like that goes into play and gives them these little sparks of chemistry. they couldn’t always grasp onto the full scope of the relationship they had and it was only some times they were able to do that with everything going on.

apparently the titans are just gone now….??? i cant even tell if its because Eren died or because Mikasa really made Ymir calm down

... eren controlling rumbling, eren dies rumbling stops, ymir finally lifts curse bc 1) eren died 2) shes able to come to realization that like mikasa lets eren go, she needs to let fritz go and the curse go. ymir lifts curse, eren’s goal is complete, if titan curse is lifted there are no more titans

Characters who murdered thousands and were the cause for AOT’s entire plot in the first place are now treated as heroes to the eldians… despite the shit that they did.

everyone in aot did some “shit” they all are murders, eren commited mass genocide, reiner commited mass murder, annie murdered so many people, reiner, armin destroyed thousands of people in one go, they all have killed somebody. they are seen as “heros” because they stopped the rumbling that was going to kill everyone else...... idk about you but if you just saved me from a horrid death, my racist opinion on you doesn’t really matter because you just saved my fucking life lmao, yes despite the shit that you did— because they have killed people too, and they were ready to kill the eldians still until armin told them that they killed eren, that they saved their lives and eliminated titans for good.... like whew???

the series went from “The military is cool” to “the military did a lot of fucked up shit” to “the military is SUPER cool”, and buffed it up

i’m not really sure where you got that tbh,, like the military wasn’t really a big thing up until the whole marleyan thing??? and they didn’t have much plot in the story besides it existing so like i’m not sure what to say ab this, i can’t really remember many times the military was even mentioned until now, but if anyone wants to elaborate on this for me that’d be nice

oh and they buffed up the military because since paradis had eren jaeger who started the rumbling, just in case, they had to be ready to fight again if the rest of humanity wanted to do something. after marley they updated all their technology, why can’t they update the military as well? it’s realistic, new weapons, new military, and all that

The military was buffed up bc the eldians are scared of the rest of the world retaliating, so Eren didn’t really fix shit except giving the Eldians an upper hand in the war

eren jaeger was the one who always screamed “i will kill all titans, we will get freedom” ya de ya de ya.... didn’t he do both of those things????? i thought those were some of his main goals as a character, he fixed those issues, the issues that have been issues since the start of the show

the rest of humanity don’t know the full scope like the eldians or marleyans, they’re probably just as scared and like in real life not all nations are at peace with one another. this is just another realistic factor— attack on titan is becoming a world closest to the real one we live in, there are militaries, there are still conflicts, there is still all these little aspects that bring the manga even more to life.

in my opinion it’d lowkey be weird if the rest of the world was just like “oh yeah those mfs that started the rumbling we love them haha” no... it killed 80% of the population like eren said... that’s not something to love.

Historia has a really disturbing speech about how the fight isnt going to end until either the Eldians or the rest of the world are exterminated, despite Gabi has an entire arc about her being deradicalized and learning to see the other side of things.

and yes i am not kidding, the heroic conclusion is that there’s still going to be a war, eldians are going to commit mass genocide (which was proposed by eren) and people straight up thank eren for the evil shit he did.

“this fight will not end until either eldia or the world dissapears. this is what eren said and he may be right.” she doesn’t say that it’s for sure gonna be a fight until one or the other is wiped out, she says there’s a possibility of this being the case because of the fact that these nations aren’t at complete peace yet. 

not everyone is gonna be able to see the other side of things, and this applies to the whole word— us as humans will never be able to agree on one thing, and that’s what this shows. no matter what the cycle of hatred will always continue, and this applies to real life and this manga. we are human beings and that’s what makes what historia says even more real. “this is the world we live in, a world without titans.” titans are no longer their conflict. now it’s only like the real word— humans against humans, and as far as humanity existed it’s always been humans against humans. historia’s speech shows that.

the heroic conclusion is that as a human race nothing will always be agreed upon, eldians are going to fight if they need to like our military fights when they need to. people are thanking eren for freeing them and ending the curse of titans that they suffered with for 2000 years. nobody’s thanking him for his actions of mass genocide, they are thanking him for the motive behind his actions, and thats what makes him so heroic.

that he endured and did something so terrible so that anybody who lives after him can be free, and humanity can continue existing as humanity should’ve existed from the beginning.

and that concludes this for me, thanks for reading<3.

#attack on titan #snk 139 #aot spoilers #snk spoilers #aot 139

[ruby-whistler]

Srry but i noticed in one of ur dream posts u Referred to tommy's cat as hope. I must correct u, that cat was born pussbou and died pussboi. /lh Also tommy killing that cat was nothing compared to dream killing mushroom henry in exile btw just wanna say Also for ur posts about dreams trauma or wilbur manipulating him can u provide links to vods or other proof? Srry if i seem rude i mean that in a "genuinely curious way"

Aaa sorry if my ask came off as rude im just genuinely curious :(((

hi! dw, you don't seem rude at all, and i'm extremely happy someone with a different perspective has found my blog! i really appreciate that sort of attitude and am happy to answer :]

/dsmp /rp

the cat was called pussboy by tommy, but dream only called it "the cat" and then said that "it was hope", which is why it sort of became a symbol (his hope is dead, basically) - that's why i kind of made its name capitalized, because it was more of a metaphor than anything.

most c!dream fans call the cat hope because it's just really nice and really symbolic, and also really sad when you think about it. that's why the name was used in the essay, just to clear up the confusion!

tommy killing that cat was nothing compared to dream killing mushroom henry in exile

i don't really think so? mooshroom henry was entertainment more than anything, and even if it was bad, when watching the stream i don't remember seeing him mourn that much - on the other hand, dream was very quickly and very obviously attached to the cat, with it being his only companion in months of isolation, along with the hope that even when tommy left it would keep him company.

keep in mind c!dream has been deprived of stimuli and human contact for so long it's officially classified as psychological torture at that point.

i don't mean to compare trauma or even compare deaths - because honestly, what c!dream and c!tommy have gone through individually is incomparable and i think neither should be diminished in favor of the other since they're both terrible situations.

that's why i disagree that it "was nothing compared to" - it had an obvious effect on c!dream, and was still c!tommy killing an animal specifically to hurt him, no matter what reasons he had.

when i'm talking about effects people's actions have had on c!dream, i'm not talking about those people. i'm talking about him. :) /lh

as for the trauma, a lot of people agree that a lot of the things he says or does are trauma responses, and hence it's very possible that he's had trauma before he went into prison!

this includes being repeatedly called a tyrant via propaganda by about half of your friends who decided to betray you, trying to keep peace and being pushed deeper into villainy instead, repeatedly being put in between a rock and a hard place in order to make sure the people you care about don't start killing each other, then being betrayed by your closest friends after merely trying to keep peace (sapnap & george) and just in general having no control over your life or image and grasping at straws to gain it back.

i know a lot of people with trauma who heavily relate to certain trauma responses, which aren't always just shaky breaths and flashbacks, but trauma often also manifests itself in extremely ugly and destructive ways, both inwardly and outwardly.

trying to control the people around you is also very often a response to going through trauma, as well as emotional repression which is... rather evident on c!dream during season two. it only seems to get worse with repeated abandonment.

in the end, during the vault scene, the way he acts really just isn't at all the way a healthy person would act, and a lot of his really bad mindsets come from the way he was taught by the world around him.

the character is very reserved however, and since we don't have his pov we can't really say for certain - a lot of people claim it in good faith because they have a lot of evidence for it, and i think they're certainly valid in that.

that is just before the prison, however. from what happened during the prison arc? there is no denying he's traumatized at this point.

he's been emotionally and physically abused by c!sam since the very beginning of being imprisoned, and being in solitary confinement for over two weeks is generally considered psychological (and maybe also physical?) torture. that alone shows up in a lot of symptoms of his mental deterioration while in pandora's during people's visits, and quackity's "sessions" just absolutely drove the point home.

what he's gone through during this arc is absolutely incomparable to anything others charactes have faced before, and it's just plain suffering being endured by someone who is, despite everything, still a human being.

as for the wilbur manipulation thing!! it's talking about the whole vassal scene (though even beforehand a lot of their interactions are pretty iffy), and here's a post about that :]

I also have a small question about the analysis u last reblogged cus it says "why dream needed lmanburg gone rightfully" and like. The house analogy is poor because for one cus the land is infinite. And 2 cus punz's yard was literally larger then lmanburg. And also stuff about dream being a mediator? Can u provide examples?

i wouldn't say it was poor. dream's said a lot of times that he didn't care in the slightest about the land - a lot of his problems with l'manberg arose with the fact that wilbur basically built it on lies and tried to disallow half of the server to come there. c!dream was mad about the division and the fact that wilbur wanted "freedom" to have authority in his lands - over others, as can be seen in this post also.

the table analogy was fitting not because dream was some overlord, but because these were literally friends he invited to hang out and live in a place he wanted to call home. claiming a part of it for yourself and saying people of a certain nationality can't come in is directly opposing those goals.

in the early days of the smp, dream's always been a mediator between his friends - sapnap and george, who would often get into fights and go around killing each other! he would always do his best to stop the conflict, which continued after tommy joined when he took him to court and then later tried to mediate conflicts he was a part of, which resulted in tommy killing him unprovoked, stealing his gear, and starting the disc wars when dream was trying to get his stuff back. later, during pogtopia, he is also most concerned with peace over everything, and this seems to continue indefinitely after.

Today i was thinking about how messed up the final control room was. Like. Dream arranged the betrayal and punz and sapnap killed tommy and tubbo who like. Were literal children and their pals (because the author, wilbur soot, is dead/j but srsly if u take the streamers words tommy said he was 9 during the revolution sooo)

Sorry im gonna ramble about how dumb canon ages are for a second cus like. Streamers can say the characters are one way or another (wilbur saying he is mentally 30-something, etc.) But in the end the characters act like they(or at least their streaming personas) do.

i... honestly don't find it that bad? they were in a war, and the final control room was basically just supposed to end it quicker. the l'manbergians made it clear they were going to fight to the death, so they really left c!dream no other choice. and it's not like he didn't give them chances to give up.

also yeah the 9 year old thing was retconned, because in that case c!dream would've been 14 and i don't think that's true.

c!tommy and c!dream were both young and once again, in a war. the final control room was an attempt to assure victory, which both sides would've taken if possible, but only c!dream saw he had the option.

i do agree the whole child soldier thing was bad but... complain about that to c!wilbur, methinks. he talked naive kids into fighting for his personal power. however, the age argument isn't really valid either way. they had enough agency to sign up for it, and whether or not c!wilbur pushing the intense nationalism onto them had something to do with that is another debate entirely.

Bacl to final control room cus like??? Also fun fact punz took 2 of wilbur's canon lives. And like that probably is what started wilbur's paranoia which later lead to his spiral and i. Many thoughts full of lmanburg today.

i'm pretty sure cc!wilbur said what lead to c!wilbur's spiral was a "dark, twister view of possessions" and "disregard for his fellow citizen whom he claimed to love so much", but i really wouldn't say it was the control room; if anything the sudden loss of power after the elections seems to me like the trigger for his spiral.

I watched the exile arc live and. I feel dirty almost for feeling little to no sympathy for c!dream (srry ive been forgetting to add that aa) because of his actions toward c!tommy and like. The whole probation was so humiliating and unfair and c!dream was planning to frame him for the crimes he and puffy did under the the guise of "pranks" and c!quackity was planning to seize the vice president role.

i mean... to be fair, if you didn't watch the prison arc much yet or only watch tommy's perspective i understand not feeling that sympathetic - however, i encourage you to maybe watch a few prison visits, since they could help you see the whole picture better!

i also watched it live, and i also thought it was terrible, but i share very much the same sentiment for the prison arc because. absolutely no one should have to go through either of those things, you know?

i don't think probation was that humiliating? he was just. being asked to not start conflict with the other factions for two weeks. of course, what happened as a result is in no way justified, but i don't think probation itself would've been bad at all. either way yeah the framing and c!quackity's behaviour was. very yikes, i agree.

Also c!tommy antis are dumb because they say "he deserved exile angry emoji" i dont see u saying that about ranboo. Just say you hate cc!tommy and go. Also people say c!tommy was just as toxic to c!dream and i??? No. One is the victim and one is the abuser and like. :/// man. This part is rambly srry

i wouldn't say they hate cc!tommy? cc!tommy has a persona who people think is annoying at first ( but then they subscribe because he is super entertaining big man! ) but a lot of c!tommy's actions are straight up toxic to certain characters, such as c!funndy and c!jack. he has a very dismissive attitude towards others and their trauma and it does affect the people around them very negatively.

examples; his repeated bullying and behavior towards fundy:

Tommy: “Fundy, I’m just here to kinda let you know that I – if you weren’t Wilbur’s son, you would be out of L’manburg, alright? Just remember – you need to keep that relationship with your father. I saw how asshole-y and bratty you were acting in the courtroom the other night. You need to pull your shit together young man.”

......

Fundy: “I’m wearing glasses…are you making fun of my eyesight?!”

Tommy: “Yes.”

Sapnap: “Your father would be very disappointed.”

Fundy: “Wh – disappointed for wearing glasses?!”

Tommy: “You got glasses, like what are you wearing…”

Fundy: “What do you mean?”

Tommy: “Sapnap, Sapnap, over here. Fundy, Fundy, Fundy, I’m really sorry to say this – I’m just here to publicly denounce you.”

Fundy: “…What?”

( credit for transcript: @/findingjoynweirdstuff )

he's also responsible for a big chunk of c!jack's trauma, both with actions and words, and that's why i think certain people might dislike the character, and i don't think that's wrong of them. anyone can dislike any character they want if they don't attack people for liking them, in my opinion.

also c!tommy was most definitely toxic against c!dream in the cell. it's of course understandable but that doesn't change the fact he was constantly hitting and insulting him (without dream doing anything back for a long while until he snapped) which is toxic behaviour.

i wouldn't say he was "just as" though, so i agree with you on that. they're different and they behave differently.

i made a dream blob keychain today. Is it possible to send images if u wanna see? Idk cus i havent used tumblr before. I think that's all for now. Thx for letting me talk :D peepoShy -curious anon (but fr a connoreatspants c!dream redemption arc would be cool)

yooo that's cool! i don't really,,, know if it's possible to send images? try it out and if it isn't i'll try find a way to turn it on.

also, no problem! just please remember this is a c!dream sympathetic blog, and me as well as my followers are uhh,, oftentimes emotionally attached / personally relate to the character, so if you could avoid sending hate on the character (not that you have or that i expect you to, just a friendly reminder) in the asks that would be great! we already see a lot of it unwillingly so, i'd rather not see more, but as long as the discussion is civil i'm absolutely ok with you asking more and with me answering more questions if you'd want to! :)

if anyone else would like to reblog this and add some things i might've missed with my answers, feel free to, just go easy on her (she uses she/her pronouns!) and keep it factual.

i hope u had a good or at least ok time at school today :D

thanks! i gtg now because exam tomorrow but i'm going to try write the redemption essay tomorrow as well because ohhh boy i have a lot of ideas about what all i could write around the concept.

also sorry this was long, i can't keep my tongue on the leash :[

#c!tommy critical #c!wilbur critical #my asks #curious anon #long post #history #tw torture #tw manipulation

[rufousnmacska]

I have a lot of thoughts about A Court of Silver Flames, and since it helps me to write them out, I thought I’d share.

It’s behind a cut because SPOILERS and it’s long lol!

Nesta

I had expected we’d learn that Nesta had suffered some type of abuse or trauma as a child that Elain and Feyre were not aware of. I wasn’t expecting it to be so subtle, for lack of a better word. Abuse comes in a lot of forms, which I think SJM is good at showing. Emotionally manipulating your daughter for power, ignoring her in favor of your business and money … those may not be as visible as physical or verbal abuse, but they still cause damage.

I’m not sure how to convey it properly, but I thought it was important to show how the parts of her that were born from the abuse and trauma, while dark or not always healthy, were still useful. The wolf she became to survive her childhood helped her survive the cauldron. Not being able to “turn it off” is what hurt her. My favorite quote:

“So Nesta had become a wolf. Armed herself with invisible teeth and claws, and learned to strike faster, deeper, more lethally. Had relished it. But when the time came to put away the wolf, she’d found it had devoured her too.”

And as Amren said later “That’s the key isn’t it? To know the darkness will always remain, but how you choose to face it, handle it … that’s the important part. To not let it consume. To focus on the good, the things that fill you with wonder.”

I’ve seen a lot of fans upset that Nesta gave up her cauldron powers at the end to save Feyre and the baby. Although I’d initially hoped (post acofas) that her training would be more about her magic than physical training, I’m okay with how it worked out. She never wanted that power and she never liked having it. She stole it as revenge and she fought constantly to suppress it. Was she a badass when she wielded it? Absolutely! But ultimately, her giving it back was the final big step in her healing arc and acceptance of herself. (That doesn’t mean she’s “cured.” This will be an ongoing battle for her. I only mean this in terms of the story in this book.)

She chose to sacrifice it, unlike so many other times in her life when things were forced on her or happened to her. Unlike the future her mother had set out for her. Unlike when they were poor and her father did nothing to get them through. Unlike when she was thrown into the cauldron and then a war. Even unlike when she was forced to move into the House of the Wind, and her apartment – the one place she had chosen for herself no matter how run down it was – got demolished. I’m not going to go into the intervention too much. It was poorly done, but I doubt any of them had experience in doing one. A conversation acknowledging that might have been nice. And I’m not ignoring Feyre and Rhys’s hypocrisy of Nesta being confined to a place where she effectively had no way to leave on her own. The stairway at that point was not an option. But the bottom line is that Nesta needed help and was not in a position to willingly accept it or seek it out.

Regardless, she is still a lethal badass. She still has some of her powers, along with her fighting skills, which will only get better and better. So, the idea that she gave up what made her strong, or ended up as some meek housewife …  I don’t agree with that at all. She has the intelligence and potential to become a force in leading armies. Not to mention her skill as an emissary. (Which Cassian finally learned how to imitate lol!)

On a personal note, I’m intimately familiar with the depression and self-loathing Nesta experienced in this book. Although I don’t necessarily react to those feelings in the same ways or exhibit the same coping mechanisms (I tend to turn my anger inward rather than outward), I could still relate to her journey. Her stubbornness and feelings that she didn’t deserve love or anything good or kind were presented accurately in my opinion. Parts were hard for me to read because of that. But I loved that she was able to make her way through the pain and finally begin to accept and love herself. And I especially loved that she was helped not only by Cassian, but by her friendship with Emerie and Gwyn.

And the House! Holy shit. The magic houses in this world piss me off to no end because they are not real and I will forever need to clean my own place LOL! Her relationship with the house was beautiful and funny and I love that she Made it! She needed a friend, someone to understand her, not only what she wanted but what she needed, and boom! The House of the Wind came alive for her.

So, overall, I loved Nesta’s journey. I’m happy she ended in a place that brought her inner peace and the ability to better deal with her problems in the future.

 Nessian

I loved them before this book and I love them more after. The smut was a little shocking at first lol but I’ve read the Black Dagger Brotherhood books, which SJM loves, so really, it wasn’t that out there. I loved that Cassian showed that even with the mating bond, he could give Nesta space and freedom. In that respect, their relationship felt more mature to me than feysand. Their banter and the sexual tension was great! (The book is about a book.) They had some not great moments, as they have in past books. But those were realistic. People argue and say things they regret. But they also talk through it and apologize. This is a good time to point out – NOT ALL APOLOGIES INVOLVE EXPLICITLY SAYING I AM SORRY. There are other ways to show remorse and ask for forgiveness.

I don’t know if I had one favorite moment as there were quite a few. I think the most emotional for me was when they reached the lake. I know firsthand how difficult it is to speak aloud the things Nesta said. And I am also lucky to have people in my life who responded the way Cassian did – with love and support and kindness.

The nightmare scene, the prison scene, the dancing, the mating bond, Cassian turning the knife on himself … I loved them all!

The Valkyries

I fucking loved them! Gwyn and Emerie were absolute delights and I’m so glad Nesta made good friends of her own who she could be herself with. Their bonding over books, training, and their pasts was wonderful. Nesta urging them on and defending them from the Illyrians in the Blood Rite was a beautiful step in her healing. Before this book, I was hesitant about the foreshadowing that Nesta would take part in the Rite, fearing it would become some sort of white savior trope to help the female Illyrians. But I enjoyed the way it ended up happening. I know it seemed unrealistic for Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn to get that far against warriors who’d been training for years. But part of the point was the males were arrogant as fuck. They underestimated the trio, to their detriment. Nesta and her friends used cunning as much as strength and skill to get where they did.

And I loved the image of Emerie and Gwyn just sitting back, sipping tea and admiring the river after going through a week of pure hell and winning the Blood Rite.

I hope we get more of them all together in the next books.

ETA - I can’t believe I forgot! Gwyn writing their story because their stories deserve to be told 🥲💕

The sisters

Overall I liked how things turned out with them.

Elain is still a bit of a non-entity to me. I don’t feel like I really know anything about her. Which, to some extent, is the point I think. There will be a lot to reveal in her story and she has a shitload of healing to do. She may have the appearance of adjusting and fitting in, but I don’t buy it. Nesta telling Elain to fuck off was awesome and long overdue. But Elain was also right in pointing out how others treat her and the trauma she’s experienced. I think there is still more to be dealt with between these two in the next book.

Feyre and Nesta were the more interesting relationship to me. The eldest and the youngest tend to butt heads in my opinion (and personal experience). So I was glad they came to an understanding. And very glad that Feyre did not get angry with Nesta for telling her about the baby. Rhys deserved the wrath for that.

One thing I would have liked to see discussed was the role of their parents in their lives. Nesta holds a lot of guilt for how she reacted to their poverty and I think that is understandable. I think Elain does too. However, I do not think any of the sisters should harbor blame for what happened. Their father was responsible for them. Period. Even if he was physically unable to work or help around the house, he still could have been a father. Yes, Feyre stepped up and fed them. Nesta and Elain didn’t help. It was his role to make them. Not in an abusive way. But step up and tell Nesta and Elain to do something, whether it’s chop wood or gather food from the wild. I don’t know. In my opinion, it is wrong to place blame on young girls who had a parent that did nothing. His actions in acowar were noble, but they don’t erase his failures. That all of this was glossed over disappointed me. I think this was something Nesta needed to be told explicitly by both her sisters. She had things to apologize for and feel guilt for, but she was not the one who should have protected Feyre. All three of them should have been protected by their father.

 The Inner Circle

It’s kind of funny to me how blind they all are about each other. I don’t even know what else to say about their dysfunction.

Amren’s sudden desire for Rhys to become High King was weird, and though I should know better, I still really hope the series doesn’t end that way. The IC tends to have good intentions about things, but I don’t think they know how to handle a problem without some kind of force. And controlling all the other courts is not something that would happen easily, especially with perceived allies.

Amren and Mor thinking Nesta belonged or should be sent to the Court of Nightmares was a spectacularly shitty take. The lack of awareness and acknowledgement that Nesta was suffering from multiple traumas was just … unbelievable.

But considering how much this group does not see about each other, I guess it’s not a surprise. I don’t know how much is willful ignorance or just really, really poor people skills. I understand how this all makes for good angst and drama, I really do. But I’m just at the point where it’s grating. They need to sit the fuck down and talk to each other. It’s been five hundred years for fucks sake. 🤦🏻‍♀️😂

Rhys

Okay. I liked Rhys in acotar and acomaf. But the sparkly exterior wore off big time for me in acowar and acofas. I honestly could have done without him in this book. But I wasn’t foolish enough to expect him to not be in it. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that SJM has her favorites and Rhys is at the top of the list.

Having said that, he annoyed the shit out of me in this book. Someone really needs to explain to him that a choice between two awful things, one of which might be deadly, is not really a choice. I don’t have the energy for it, but better writers than me could write a thesis on the illusion of choice in these books. Which is, in my opinion, pretty clearly tied to the brand of feminism presented.

Not only is the choice given to Nesta at the beginning not a choice, Rhys doesn’t seem to consider Elain at all in his argument with Az. All other issues with that bonus chapter aside, he saw them. He saw the mutual attraction and consent. What happened to not forcing females to accept the mating bond? What happened to respecting her choice and autonomy? I considered the possibility that maybe since he knows Az, there’s a reason he thinks they wouldn’t work. But then, that pretty much flies out the window by him asking Az about Mor. Sure, Az is still hung up on Mor, but she is pretty fucking clear about her opinion.

The whole thing about not telling Feyre about the risky childbirth was awful. And not that I would expect it to happen, but not even mentioning abortion as an option was frustrating. That plot line was not good in any way. There were plenty of other things that could have gone wrong with the birth to push Nesta to act at the end. To be honest, the feysand dynamic is not great. While I appreciated her standing up to him about Nesta and other things, he very deliberately uses sex as a distraction to get out of arguments. Yet another way he never really seems to suffer consequences of bad behavior.  

I will say I was really glad he got the opportunity to experience the full trauma of what Nesta went through. And my petty ass loved him kneeling before her at the end!

Miscellaneous

Where was Illyria?? My one serious expectation for this book was that we’d learn more about Illyria and deal with the revolution that was hyped up in acofas. To be written off in one paragraph was disappointing. It makes me think that if we are to ever get more details about the Illyrians, it might be in Az’s story. It was mentioned a few times that he hates them (with good reason) and would wipe them off the map if it was up to him. So I’m guessing his arc will require him coming to terms with that.

Elriel-Elucien-Gwynriel

I’ve never been super invested in this story line but I admit I’ve leaned more towards Elriel in the past. Partly because I like some of the complementary symbolism associated with them, but mostly because I’d really like to see a story about rejection of the mating bond. Even with the extra chapters, I feel like we still don’t know much of anything about who Elain truly is. And the same can be said of Az. So, those chapters didn’t sway me that much. With the exception of Az interacting with Gwyn. I agree with a lot of others saying Az has a lot of work to do on himself before he can be with anyone. I think Elain and Gwyn also have a lot of healing to do. SJM can take this in so many directions that I just don’t know what to think.

I will say that originally I was expecting the next book to involve a love square of Elain, Az, Lucien, and Vassa, because I did see a connection between the last two. But now … Was Lucien annoyed by Jurian and Vassa because he’s jealous? Just annoyed? I don’t know. I still think Vassa will be in the next books if only because of Koschei. But I’m not so sure about her involvement with Lucien. I think we’ve got enough people in this love polygon lol! Jesus, what a mess. But maximum angst 😂

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acosf #a court of silver flames #acosf spoilers #emerie #gwyn berdara #azriel #elain archeron #feyre archeron #morrigan #amren #rhysand #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #sarah j maas #feysand #elriel #elucien

[sockablock]

When in sudden need of a place to stay, Caleb Widogast finds a room for rent at a price so low he can’t believe his luck. Ignoring the concerns of his friends, he moves in and quickly finds himself tangled up in the life of one Essek Thelyss, a reclusive scholar who may be even stranger than Caleb himself...

(start) - (previous) - (next)

Chapter 2: A Name to the Face

The sun lanced arcs across Caleb’s face as he set his phone down on the nightstand, and yawned.

He’d gotten used to sleeping in strange places during the last few years of his life, and there was a part of him that missed the coziness of his room back in his and Nott’s apartment. But the other part of him, namely the part comprised of bruises from too-narrow walls—relished in this chance to stretch out a little.

Eventually, he managed to sit up. The mattress did not dip sullenly with his weight, indicative of its newness and quality.

He glanced around. The door was closed, though Frumpkin was nowhere to be seen. Then again, mundane cats were already hard enough to confine; as a feline of the fey persuasion, Frumpkin went where Frumpkin pleased.

Caleb took his sweet time making the bed, adjusting the blinds, peering out the window over quiet streets, before eventually rifling through his cardboard boxes for something proper to wear. He also made a mental note to, at some point, ask Mr. Thelyss how the laundry worked.

Then he straightened his collar, took a deep breath, and wandered out into the kitchen.

—

Jester was nose-deep in a box of cinnamon rolls when Beauregard emerged from the shower. Peals of steam curled past the doorframe and dissipated out into the hallway.

“I thought those were supposed to last us the week,” Beau said when she noticed her roommate. “Didn’t we decide we wouldn’t go back to the bakery until Thursday?”

“Oh, but Beau,” icing shimmered in the corner of Jester’s mouth. “Beau, they’re just so tasty. I can’t resist.”

Beauregard pulled the towel off her head and gave her hair one last muss-up. Then she slung herself backwards into a chair and stole some frosting.

“Fair enough,” she licked a finger. “Just be sure to save something for Yasha when she gets back.”

“Back?” Jester’s cheerful demeanor vanished. “Oh, no, did she leave again? I thought she was done doing that!”

“Oh, no she didn’t run off, I think she just went to some errands, or something?” Beau scratched the side of her head. “She mentioned something about seeing a butcher.”

“Oh.” Jester relaxed. “Well that’s alright, then. Though we don’t really cook much.”

“Maybe she’s trying something new. It’s better than eating rats all the time, right?”

Jester gave this due consideration. “I think she only did that once. And then Fjord threw up, so she decided to stop.”

“Hm,” Beau shrugged. “I guess that’s nice of her. Oh, hey, speaking of stopping, what the hell is up with Caleb? Has he responded? With pictures and actual information?”

Jester groaned. “He’s being a real butt about it. He’s obviously there, but he isn’t sending us anything good.”

Beau raised a cinnamon roll. “The bastard.”  

— 

In the light of day, Mr. Thelyss’s kitchen gleamed with tidiness and disuse. In fact, it seemed like only the coffeemaker and microwave ever got any attention from their owner.

Caleb added another step to his mental moving day to-do-list: find the nearest grocery store and get some cereal. And coffee. And maybe a loaf of bread, if he was feeling extravagant.

He settled instead for pouring himself a glass of water and vowing that he would at least pick up lunch once he actually ventured outside. He slid into the kitchen, found a neutral-looking glass cup, and filled it up in the sink.

When he turned, he realized that something was different about the counter.

The little box of cheesecake was gone.

There was a note left, however. It read: Thank you very much, Mr. Widogast.

So, Caleb thought to himself. This meant that his mystery landlord had come home at some point in the night. And…as his gaze drifted past the kitchen and over to the front door of the apartment…yes, there in the foyer was a pair of shoes and a fine, but thin, black cloak.

Caleb had never seen anything like it before. It seemed as if the pattern had been designed to almost be worn like some kind of long poncho. Its hem brushed just over the floor.

What kind of person would wear something like this? The amused thought of vampire briefly flickered through his mind, but he shook it off and chalked it up to spending too much time with Jester.

He glanced back at the note. Something in him also registered: charmingly polite.

He shook his head. Speaking of Jester, he still had a promise to fulfill…

— 

“Fjord, those are ugly.”

“What? I think they look nice—”

“Nice won’t cut it! I need something amazing! It’s been months since I’ve last seen Yeza. I have to really blow him away.”

“Look, what you see is what we’ve got. And anyway, what’s wrong with Delphiniums—”

Nott was standing on a small turquoise stool that some of the more vertically-challenged customers of the Blooming Grove required to reach the counter. Her finger was swaying dangerously underneath the nose of a long-time friend and even longer-time frenemy, Fjord, currently on register duty.

All around them, the sweet and mellow scent of dozens upon dozens of coastal flowers twirled and trilled and danced through the air. Large windows set into the pale green walls let in sunlight and a view of the gardens out back.

“They’re blue!” Nott screeched. “I don’t want blue, Yeza’s going to think I’m not happy to see him!”

“Everyone likes blue,” Fjord said defensively. “Just look at Jester. She’s practically got a fan club. Fine, fine,” he added, when her expression didn’t change, “I can do you some roses—”

“Roses are cliché.”

“They’re a goddamn symbol of love, Nott.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but I don’t just want a symbol of love, I want a symbol of…of passion. Of devotion. Of l—”

“Look, just wait a bit, and Caduceus will be back. He’s the one who actually knows the names of all these things,” Fjord sighed. “He’ll be able to tell you if those even are Delphiniums.”

There was a moment’s pause.

“How have you managed to keep this job, Fjord?”

“I don’t have to help you, you know.”

“Technically, I think you d—"

And then, their phones buzzed.

—

— 

Nott glanced back at Fjord.

“Do you think he doesn’t know?”

Fjord shrugged. “Let’s just see what he says.”

Nott groaned. “It’ll probably be hours until we find out.”

—

—

“He’s going to die tonight, then,” said Beau, kicking off her sneakers. The front door shut behind her with a click. “That’s, like, the first rule to committing a crime. Don’t let them see your face.”

“I think it’s kind of romantic,” Jester said. Now she was in the living room, sprawled across the couch. “It’s like…a forbidden meeting. Maybe he’ll never find out what Essie looks like. Isn’t that sad?”

“Essek,” Beau corrected, and set her keys aside. “And I don’t see what’s so sad about that.”

“Oh, but it is,” Jester lavished in her sigh. “The saddest and loneliest kind of thing. To never see who you’re living with? If you can’t even put a face to the name, you might as well be sharing your house with a ghost.”

Beau raised an eyebrow. “That’s…a little dramatic, but I see what you mean. Anyway, this is a point against the guy. In my books, that is. And I’m keeping track.”

“Oh? How many points does he have?”

Beau joined her on the couch and crossed her arms. “Not many. He’s mysterious, and weird. Those are negatives. Standoffish, if he didn’t even greet Caleb on the first day. And if he isn’t a criminal, and is actually renting out a place that cheap, he must be a total idiot. Or desperate.”

“For what?” Jester asked.

She shrugged. “Who knows? The company?”

— 

Essek was, as a matter of fact, quite desperate. Desperate for another five minutes of sleep.

It was now long after the Mighty Nein had given up on their interrogation, though he was not aware of this. Instead, what was most on his mind was the strange…the odd vibrating right next to his head.

Blindly, he reached out to slap his alarm. His hand connected, but the noise did not stop.

Then he realized that it was coming from the other side of the bed.

He shuffled around to take a peek.

An eye was staring back at him. Large and blue.

“What in the name of the L—”

The cat yawned, and its mouth stretched open to reveal rows of teeth.

Essek hesitated. He rubbed his face.

“How did…what is…”

And then the puzzle pieces slid into place.  

He racked his brain for the name.

“F…Fr…Frumpkin?” he guessed.

The cat yawned again. This time, it followed the gesture up with a mrpf, and unfurled its body. And stretched.

“Hm,” said Essek. “He did…warn me, but…I am not sure if I approve of you coming in here like this. Without announcement, especially.”

Frumpkin stared back up at him. He tilted his head and put on his most endearing expression.

“Well,” Essek relented in the onslaught of this, “at least you don’t seem to be the kind that sheds. Actually…”

He leaned in as close as he dared, a pair of icy eyes tracking his every movement.

“…actually, I’m not at all sure what kind of kitty you are. Your ears are…very long. And your markings are…”

And then Essek realized.

“A familiar?”

Frumpkin blinked at him.

— 

Caleb had found the grocery store on his second try, and had also made note of a bookstore and bus stop on the way there. Now, after a long day of scouting out the neighborhood, he was back in his bedroom again, sorting clothes. No use in holding off, after all, not even if it made him feel slightly strange to be putting all his things away in someone else’s bedroom.

He picked up a t-shirt and examined the back. STAFF, it read. He had no idea for what. The Broad Barn’s secondhand clothing pile was vague at best and hazardous at worst.

Another part of Caleb, the part not fully consumed by the current task at hand, registered the faintest sound outside. It was ruled out as being not important.

Caleb produced another shirt. This one had a picture of a cat on it, red beams of light shooting out from its eyes. This had been a New Dawn present from—surprising to everyone—Yasha.

It had thus far found a long and happy life as the top half of Caleb’s pajamas. He’d tried to wear it in public once, and been bullied mercilessly by Beauregard.

On the other side of the room, past the drawers and the bed, was a small folding table that had been set up by Essek, likely as a desk. It was the sort of low contraption that eliminated any possibility of chairs, but it made a lot of sense for apartment living and was sized well enough for sitting on the floor. It was miles above Caleb’s old arrangement, a piece of plywood on a milk crate.

Right now, this new desk was covered in reams upon reams of notebook paper. Contrary to expectation, however, this paper was not lined with the standard narrow rule of most academic stationary. Instead, a pattern of lines and circles extended out from the center of the page, covering every inch in an odd spiral. Dozens upon dozens of these sheets were strewn about now, with hasty pencil-markings splattered across the page.

A particularly keen-eyed individual might have noticed that some of the markings were crossed-out. Redoubled, re-arranged, re-placed, or removed.

A particularly keen-eyed individual with the right kind of background would have noticed immediately that many of these runes were transmutative.

Back on his side of the bed, Caleb was humming.

— 

When the cat—the familiar, likely a fey one, at that—did not decide to claw Essek’s eyes out, he gingerly picked it up under its forearms and carried it out of his bedroom.

He entered the living room, and saw that it was empty. The curtains were drawn open, however, and at this point the late-summer sun was just beginning to crest low over the horizon.

Essek raised an eyebrow at Frumpkin. “So. Where is your master, hm?”

Frumpkin meowed. It meant absolutely nothing to Essek, but he nodded anyway on principle.

“I understand that you are…well, from what I think I know about ordinary cats, you might like to wander around. But the same rules that apply to your wizard apply to you as well, okay?”

He walked Frumpkin into the living room and put him down on the couch.

“I would appreciate it if you did not enter my bedroom without invitation. The study as well, yes? Meow if you understand.”

Frumpkin stared at him. Frumpkin opened his mouth. Frumpkin closed it again.

It was a vague enough gesture that Essek could not tell if this was a response. He sighed.

“This is why I never bothered with getting one of you, you know. And I’m not even talking about the food bills. Er…do you eat?”

Frumpkin repeated the gesture. Essek repeated it back at the cat in a burst of childish impulse, then caught himself.

Gods, talking to Verin yesterday must have put him in an odd mood. And his brother had kept going on and on about life back in Rosohna, about how wonderful it is, Essek, how much Mother misses you, Essek, how I wish you’d visit, Essek—all that nostalgia couldn’t be good for the mind. Especially when unsolicited.

Still, this did not stop him from checking his messages in the kitchen while he waited for his morning—afternoon—evening—coffee to brew. In the background, Frumpkin rolled over on the sofa. Verin had mentioned something that he’d wanted to talk about, that he’d send over later…

Essek opened up their conversation. Then he scowled.

— 

A solitary figure stalked through the dimming streets of Nicodranas. She stretched, working out the knots in her back, upper arms, feeling the scabs on her knuckles and their sting.

She grinned, wide and toothy, in the sunset.

Unconventional, but it worked.

— 

Caleb had a perfect memory, and never forget anything. As such, the three core tenets of his tenancy in this apartment were virtually scored into his mind.

Be quiet. Be organized. And do the recycling.

Now he stood outside the apartment complex. The winding streets formed a gentle little plaza where the neighboring buildings all shared an open space, which included the public recycling cans.

There hadn’t actually been that much to take out, aside from an empty carton of ramen, a few cat food tins, and some assorted items that Mr. Thelyss must have left behind last night. Still, Caleb had wanted to prove how serious he was about following the Code of Conduct, and so had made the journey downstairs to be a responsible citizen.

The breeze wound around his ankles. Nearby, a few kids were running around with their mother, and a jogger moseyed past their street. It was a peaceful sight, underscored by the distant call of gulls and a setting sun.

Caleb had just nudged open the lid of the recycling bin when the shouting began.

Actually, it was less of a shouting and more of a heated argument, augmented by the harsh syllables of a language that Caleb did not recognize.

If he had, it would have sounded something like this:

“—impossible! I refuse. I did not give my permission—”

“Permission? Why would she need your permission—”

“Because it is my house! And this is my city—”

“Your city? Brother, you’ve only been there a few months—”

“It’s been a year and a half, Verin. A peaceful year and a half, mind.”

“Really? Well, I am certain it will remain that. And anyway, she’s not even going there for you.”

“Hah! I have a feeling that she is visiting Nicodranas expressly to do so. The gala is just an excuse for her to come here and poke into everything I’m doing—”

“Look, look, don’t shout at me. I am just the messenger. If you’re so upset, go and call Mother—”

Caleb swung the bag into the can. As he closed the lid, his curiosity got the better of him and he found himself surreptitiously scanning the perimeter with the universal creep of eavesdroppers everywhere.

Quickly, he found the source of the sound. There was a figure standing in front of his building, pacing back and forth underneath the awning, waving one hand around in frustration. The shadows prevented him from getting a better look, but the figure seemed lithe, and very annoyed.

Caleb would have to slip past him to get back inside.

Tactically, he pulled out his phone and pretended to be incredibly engrossed with its contents. Luckily, it seemed to work—and out of the corner of his eye he even noticed the figure hastily stepping aside.

Then, unluckily, the figure followed him.

Caleb didn’t dare look up. But he could feel the stranger’s presence trail him all the way into the elevator, then settle down next to him as the doors slid shut.

Caleb went to hit the number four. So did the stranger. Their fingers collided.

“Ah—"

“Scheisse, I am sor—”

And then he stopped.

Caleb Widogast was decidedly not a man of the world. He’d never left the continent of Wildemount, for instance, nor could he claim to have seen everything it had to offer. But he had fancied himself rather well-read, and believed that he perhaps had experienced more than the average person.

This was the first time in his life that he’d seen a dark elf.

He knew that they existed, of course, but in the way that he knew the names of far-off places, as distant trivia irrelevant to his life. He knew, for example, that they were native to Xhorhas, and that many of their societies lived underground. He knew that their closest civilization was ruled by a powerful queen. He also knew that in less-polite circles, some Empire elites still believed them to be backwater savages and monsters.

This one was wearing a green t-shirt. His hair was a messy sweep to one side.

“—ry.” He finished, as quickly as he could.

The dark elf shrugged. His eyes—a pale slate gray—took in Caleb’s appearance, then the number they’d both pressed.

“I do not recall ever seeing you,” the elf said. His voice was still a little strained, as if something from before—that argument, perhaps—was bothering him immensely.

“I, ah, I’m new,” Caleb said.

The elf raised an eyebrow. “I see.”

Then he turned back around to stare at the door. Caleb was more than happy not to engage. He just hoped he hadn’t stared long enough to offend a potential neighbor.

The elevator rose three floors. On the fourth one, it stopped.

He quickly ducked out, sandals pattering on the ground, and it was only once he’d gotten to the door of his apartment and started to punch in the code that he realized the elf was still behind him, still standing there, still annoyed, and so he turned—

— 

“Excuse me,” said Essek tetchily. “Why are you entering my home?”

The human blinked.

“Er…this is…where I live.”

“What? But—”

For the second time that day, Essek realized.

“Um,” said Caleb Widogast. “Would your last name...happen to be ‘Thelyss’?”

— — —

✨ Ko-Fi Link in Bio! ✨ | Requests are OPEN

#critical role #critrole #critfic #fic #shadowgast #fanfiction #long post #REALLY LONG POST #im so sorry if the break doesn't work dfhgjk #fanfic #cr2 #the mighty nein #modern au #now what are the chances of that #jay writes #text

[residentlesbrarian]

The Fourth Book I Read In the Dark: Of Expectations and Other Relatabilities

Of Gryphons and Other Monsters by Shannon McGee

Hey, guys, sooooo...this is aaaawwwkward. I wrote 95% of this review when I wrote the other Books I Read in the Dark series for the blog, but the ADHD hit me and COVID was still you know...a thing! So I am gonna post this review, finished of course, OH, but also pay extra close attention to the conclusion alright! Hmm...this is a bit like a time capsule...here are my concentrated thoughts from 6 months ago while I was slightly delirious on books and darkness. So go forth and uh yeah this one is...you can just feel the feral “I haven’t had access to proper internet so I’ve been curled in the corner like Gollum with my books” energy coming off it so...enjoy?

Okay, so yeah, I really didn’t have a reason to end my last review that way I just wanted to, so sue me for injecting a little excitement into a series of posts about me literally sitting in my house reading nonstop for 2 ½ days, my reviews my rules. Back to manufacturing my own excitement shall we!

It’s Day 2! I’ve just finished my last library book, whatever will I do! I could always reread The Neverending Story for the 1,273rd time, but I have a need. A need for GAY! I rack my brain, there has to be a solution. My town is without power, my local library won’t be open, but then it hits me. It’s so simple! It’s meant to be really! Like the universe knew this was coming and it made sure I was prepared! Like a prepper stockpiling mental SPAM for my stimulus needing ADHD riddled brain! I have an entire shelf of books that I haven’t read yet! Way back in Clexacon 2019 my best friend (Lookin at you @justalifelongphase) gave me way too much money from missed birthdays and Christmases all at once before the con started because the world has deemed it impossible for us to live geographically close to one another. Anyway, I went a little book-buying-crazy and have not had the time or opportunity to read any of them since then. Their time has finally come!

I figured after going full whimsy with The Lost Coast and sci-fi superhero with Dreadnought and Sovereign why not take a dip into more traditional fantasy, also this one was first in line on the shelf, yay for not having to actually make a decision! No more dawdling, let's get right into the review!

Unicorn Rating:

Blurb: Taryn always loves and hates gryphon season. She finds the lesser gryphons more cute than anything but the ever present fear that a greater gryphon might be just out of sight is terrifying, and this gryphon season proves to be the one that will change her and her families lives forever! Just let a girl herd her sheep in peace!

Disclaimer: I will try my best to not spoil anything from the book, but my book loving rambles may give more away than a traditional review. Here we go! Ramble time!

Review:

I genuinely enjoyed this book. It took me a bit longer to get through it than the others, but I think that was a combination of three things: A. I was starting to feel the fatigue of reading so much in such a short amount of time. B. Our local Wal Mart had power restored on Day 3 and our entire household went on a trip to buy non-perishable food stuffs and I was like a solitary confinement prisoner being let out into the yard for the first time in months when my phone picked up a wifi signal and it was a bit hard to get back into the swing of reading after talking to other humans, even virtually, that weren’t imaginary or in my head. C. Our power was finally restored on the afternoon of Day 3 so yet again I was inundated with the draw of technology and all of my friend-os I hadn’t talked to, but the book had drawn me in enough I did the most unmillienial thing and left my phone in a different room to charge while I finished this book before going back to the land of technology and interwebs. That should tell you something.

McGee was able to write this story in a way that pulls you in so you care about what happens to these characters and this little mountain town. You learn just enough about the world to understand where they fit within the overall weave of it, but you aren’t given a Tolkein-esc dissertation on the world lore. I felt the worries and the fears. I was concerned when the routines had to change. I mean she made me care about the freaking sheep! Sheep, people! One of the reasons I think this works so well is we are so firmly rooted in the head of our protagonist, Taryn. Imma use that lovely bridge I just built to skip right on over the plot section of the review to get to the characters first, don’t worry we’ll circle back round to the plot. I always do, but I just wanna talk about my newest set of brain babies.

Taryn is a character that, if the title of this post is anything to go by, I found very very relatable. Now I know relatability can be pretty subjective, some people can latch onto something with the all consuming, “It me!” While others just stare on dead eyed not understanding the appeal. I feel like Taryn could be that kind of protagonist. You are either going to really relate to her or you won’t understand where she is coming from at all. I obviously fall in the former category. I was the quintessential middle child, still am really, though my relationship with my parents has shifted now that I’m an adult. More mutual respect and friendship than parent to child. I always did my best to pick up the slack, if ever there was any, and just tried my best to be as little of a burden as possible to my parents. I see so much of that aspect of myself in Taryn and how she sees her place at the farm and even in the town, she has her place and her role, but those expectations are heavy. One of those expectations being that she will inevitably get married and help take over the farm from her parents and have kids to continue the line. The fact she finds the lesser gryphons that flock near the farm far cuter than any of the local boys that she will eventually have to choose from to fulfill that inevitable expectation is just...sad at best and down right tragic at worst. And her family doesn’t help matters either. They won’t let her forget that she will have to settle down with one of these local boys, a boy who would make a good husband and take good care of her and the farm. She knows that, logically, but she also wants to be in love, like her parents, and she just doesn’t feel like that for any of the boys in town. She doesn’t know how to make those two things line up. It’s a struggle between her head, the obligation of what she has to do, and her heart, what she really wants for her future, to be happy in doing what she has to do. Wow, I went off a little bit there, but this was my long winded way of saying I have never read a protagonist that really captured the utter confusion of being raised in a heteronormative environment without it being drenched in internalized homophobia and fear. Protagonists like this seem to always know something is off but just don’t have the words for it so they just hide it because they know it’s “different” and out of the norm, but Taryn is just livin’ her sheep herding life and ain’t got no time for these boy crazy fools. She knows her mom wants her to find a good boy to court her so she can marry someday but she’s still young. She’ll think about that tomorrow, and she just repeats that ad infinitum. The thought that maybe she doesn’t fancy any of the boys because well...girls...never even occurred to her. It's not how things are done in this small mountain town, not because of homophobia reasons, but just stubborn tradition reasons. We are even told there is a gay couple living in town who are staples in the overall dynamics in town, instrumental even, but the idea of having a lineage, being able to pass your land down is so ingrained no wonder poor Taryn was so in the dark about her own probable gayness till it slapped her in the face. As someone who was raised in a medium sized Oklahoma town...girl I feel you. I was 22 and in the middle of Appalacia, way up in the mountains for college when my gay awakening popped up and said “Hello!” Everything that never quite made sense in my life came into perfect clarity. Not quite what happened with Taryn, but the arrival of Aella surely helped, as pretty girls are want to do. Oh look a segue, good, cause I could talk about Taryn for literal hours and I’ve already gabbed about her too much for this review.

Aella, you smooth motherfucker. Like I wish I could possess a quarter of the smoothness that you do. Like I’m lucky to string sentences together around a pretty girl, but here you are just strutting about being the smoothest of smooth. Honestly, I just...I can’t with you Aella. On a serious note though Aella is a character that served as showing Taryn a glimpse at the world beyond her small mountain town, as much as she had no desire to leave, unlike her brother. Nope, sit down, we’ll get to you, Michael! Oh, we’ll get to you. She’s traveled and has stories from all over and she is fairly open about the fact that she only likes girls, but she doesn’t have land, responsibilities, and a family line to continue. She just gets to live her life the way she choses. And y’all know I am a sap for the hard dark characters that are totally softies underneath that rough exterior. I think Aella was a great foil to Taryn and great at showing her what she could have if she was willing to leave, to stretch what she was allowed to wish for, but of course the biggest issue with her wishing for anything was...Michael.

Michael was such an interesting character. I loved him. I hated him. I wanted to hug him. I wanted to punch him. Again as with the town and the people of the town I was so deep seated in Taryn’s head and feelings that her conflicted feelings about Michael and how he was acting became my feelings on the matter. Not enough to not separate a tad and see what was coming or at least try to predict it as I always do when reading, but emotionally I was right with Taryn the whole way. The one thing that really pushed Michael from just a character I was conflicted about to one I really wanna give a swift kick in the nads to, is that he knew. He knew all about Taryn’s absolute lack of romantic inclinations toward any of the boys in town and her doubts that she would ever find someone to love and marry to take over the farm. He was the only person she confided these fears in and he still selfishly followed his own pursuits with little regard to her or her worries. You sir, are a terrible brother and overall a shit human, so sit your ass down and shut your mouth.

The plot for this book was so embroiled with the characters and their journeys that I can’t talk on it much but the twists at the end and the final climax was very satisfying for me and left me excited to dig into the next book. Also something of note that I didn’t talk about in the character section cause I felt it was dragging on a touch, I really only talked in depth on our three biggest players but there is a very colorful cast of side characters ranging from Taryn’s nervous pony to the boy-who-cried-gryphon neighbor no one can stand to the troupe of hunters led by Aella’s mother to Taryn’s best friend Nia, all of whom play important parts in building that sense of caring about the people of this town and the town itself, which in turn made me deeply care about the outcome of the plot at the heart of the story. And the sheep! The god damn sheep!

One thing I do want to say before my final thoughts is that whoever designed the cover of this book in a genius because as I dug into the story I found myself constantly closing it to spout off about theories of what I thought was happening on the cover and what it all meant, I was kind of reader fatigue delirious for most of those theories but some of them I was right! I might have reenacted the Captain Holt “Vindication” gif IRL just because it felt too good not to. I just love when a “cool” cover turns out to be so much more than that once you’re “in the know”. So yeah, now y’all know to pay attention for that.

My final thoughts on this book are pretty positive. I can tell the author is building us toward so much more, hence the name of the series, Taryn’s Journey, and it feels like it. This is only the beginning and I honestly can’t wait to take the next steps with her.

Queer Wrap-up:

Hey it’s me from the future...present...whatever...so, this is when I stopped writing the review six months ago and there is a reason for that. I, kind of, agonized over what to rate this book on the scale. Multiple times having to call my brother and go back and forth just to then repeat the same arguments with myself as soon as I got off the phone. Now why was this such a hard terrible no good awful back and forth well...SPOILER WARNING...seriously anything past this point will be spoiling some character beats for the majority of the book...okay? We understand one another. DANGER ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE...or you know scroll on.

So, Taryn is never confirmed to be queer in the text of this book. Now you would have to be wearing the tightest hetero goggles in known history not to see the heavy HEAVY subtext saying THIS BITCH GAY! It’s basically a full grown elephant painted sparkly rainbow trying to hide behind a dead shrub aka not hiding at all. I so desperately wanted to give this book four of those darling unicorns but in this rare case I just don’t think I can justify it. We have a protagonist that is still figuring herself out, which is amazing that we get to see that and go on the journey with her. Some of the things Taryn does and thinks are queer coded as hell, especially if it involves Aella who is explicitly gay on the page, but Taryn herself never express whether she herself is queer. Which, fair, other really important and traumatizing things were going on and I love that about her as a character, she didn’t meet Aella and suddenly that was all she could think about. Aella, of course, is representation who I’m counting because even though she shows obvious interest (you smooth motherfucker) in Taryn she is so much more than just a love interest and her character isn’t just boiled down to her sexuality. Now in this wrap up I’m also including the doctor and his husband in the town. They are very minor characters but they give us interesting insights into the town and the people. They are accepted and treated well in town even if some do almost, pity isn’t the right word, but they seem sad that they won’t be able to have any kind of legacy or lineage. As I said in the review it’s not homophobia it’s being stuck in your ways and it’s an interesting take.

Links:

Shannon McGee Website

The Storygraph

Okay so this one is a bit of a mess. Pieces of it were written 6 months apart and most of it was written while I was kind of delirious but hey at least I can say it’s honest. I still stand by everything my past self wrote and I still really enjoy thinking and talking about this book and am excited for whenever I get around to reading the sequel to continue on Tayrn’s journey with her. This is a book I probably would never have known even existed without ClexaCon and trolling through artist alley for literally every table that had books on them. I guess, moral of the day is maybe you won’t just find great books on library shelves but on unassuming convention tables too and it never hurts to look. Trust me, I’m a lesbrarian.

Oh bet you thought this post was over. I did the sign off and everything but oh no no! I have some info and such to impart. I am WELL AWARE these reviews have been fairly inconsistent to down right sporadic. Well, this is just a little info dump letting you guys know I am gonna be putting up one more review after this one that I wrote ages ago and I mean AGES (think years, as in multiple) and just never got around to posting and then the old blog is probably gonna be going through a PLANNED dormancy while some pretty big stuff is coming down the pike. You may notice visual changes and other stuff before anything else is announced but just keep an eye out. To quote the Fates from Hercules, “It’s gonna be big!”

Okay now for the actual sign off, I got shit to do! No one look behind the curtain, it’s a surprise!

#Of Gryphons and Other Monsters #Shannon McGee #resident lesbrarian #3 unicorns #questioning girl #lesbian #heavy wlw romantic subtext #ya novel #ya fantasy #go to your local library #but wear a mask #and wash your hands #and stay 6 feet apart #be safe out there guys gals and nonbinary pals

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

The Tiny Terror

Title:  The Tiny Terror

Summary: (Continuation of this fic) Roman doesn’t understand why a young Virgil would trust him over Patton. With their rivalry that stems all the way to childhood, surely he’s the last one Virgil wants anything to do with. Yet Virgil trusts him, looks up at him in admiration. With Logan away researching a solution and Patton checking up on Thomas, it’s up to Roman to take care of the now kid Anxiety for the day.

Word-Count: 1.9k

Pairings: brotherly prinixety, background platonic lamp

Warnings: de-aging, crying, fear, self-doubt, guilt, bullying mention

This is a birthday fic for @theeternalspace! Happy Birthday Acantha, it’s a little hard to believe we’ve been friends for over a solid year now. You mentioned a while back you’d enjoy a continuation of this AU and well, I hope I’ve delivered :D

-

Roman isn’t scared. Brave, fearless princes like him don’t get scared. They get merely troubled or perplexed when faced with uncertain circumstances. Those emotions don’t last long, mind you. He always overcomes them to save the day and today won’t be an exception. He’s sure of it.

Virgil is tiny. Just a little rain drop compared to his normal gloomy thunderstorm self. He can’t be more than four--maybe five--years old. He’s sound asleep in Roman’s arms, the poor dude tuckered out from his crying. His little hands hold on tightly to Roman’s shirt, as if even unconscious he’s afraid of letting go.

“He’s so little.” Roman whispers, gently stroking Virgil’s hair.

He still doesn’t understand it. Even as children, Roman treated Virgil terribly. He made fun of his fears, teasing young Anxiety relentlessly. Worst yet, the rare occasions he included Virgil in games of make-believe, he always pushed Anxiety into playing the villain. 

So it wasn’t really a surprise that Virgil took that role on full-time. Not even a few years back, Roman thought it’d been only confirmation of Virgil’s true nature. Nowadays he held onto a guilt knowing he forced Virgil into that role.

So why did the Tiny Terror chose him over Patton? Kind, loving Patton who has never cruelly taunted Virgil or shunned him for simply existing? He isn’t deserving of this trust Virgil has placed in him.

Patton and Logan hover nearby, just as perplexed by the situation as Roman. Patton wrings his hands nervously. He looks like he’s seconds away from scooping his anxious kiddo into his arms and never letting go.

 Meanwhile Logan frowns, cupping his chin with one hand. It’s his classic thinking pose. All he needs is a deerstalker hat and a pipe and he’d a spitting image of Sherlock Holmes. Roman pictures a tiny Virgil trailing after Logical Side in too-large clothing as Watson and well...as Logan himself would put it, the image is too precious to process.

“It’s hard to believe we were once as little as him, isn’t it?” Patton breaths in, “he’s so cute I wanna pinch his little cheeks.”

“While he is undeniably, factually adorable, I think we should remain focused on finding out what caused this...change in him.”

“Have any hypotheses, Logan-rithm?” Roman asks.

“A few. However I’d like to do some research just to be certain,” Logan pauses, “It might be also wise for one of us to check up on Thomas and to see if this change is affecting him in any way.”

Roman and Patton glance at one another.

“I can go--” Roman begins, but Patton waves him off.

“No, it’s okay! I can do it! Besides,” He smiles knowingly, “you have your hands full already.”

“Indeed,” Logan adjusts his glasses, “since Virgil seems to inexplicably trust you he might wake up distressed if you are not with him.”

“Then on my word as a knight, I shall keep him safe while you two are off on your own quests.”  Roman vows, forsaking his usual bow since he was holding Virgil. 

“Yes, well, I shall go to my room now to research.” Logan says, sinking out.

“I’m sure you’ll do a terrific job, kiddo!” Patton says as he sinks out, leaving both Roman and Virgil alone in the hallway of the Mindscape.

“Well,” Roman says, looking down at Virgil, “it’s just us, little prince.”

Virgil grumbles in his sleep, shifting slightly. His young face is devoid of the dark eyeshadow Roman is so used to seeing on him. When had he started wearing the eyeshadow? Had it been high school? Roman couldn’t recall. 

He walks to the mindscape common area, careful not to jostle Virgil along the way. He could’ve teleport himself and Kid Fright over there but he was worried that rising up would have a negative effect on Virgil like it did for his adult self.  Once there, he gently lays Virgil down on the couch. Or at least, he attempts to do so. 

“Nooo,” Virgil whimpered, his shrill voice spooking Roman. He nestles his head further into the nook between Roman’s neck and shoulder. He clings to Roman, his grip tighter than any two-headed python that Roman has ever fought.

“You said you wouldn’t let go.” Virgil drowsily mumbles, muffled by Roman’s shirt, “don’t leave  me!”

Oh, Roman thinks as his heart threatens to break, of course Virgil would have separation anxiety. Little kids often had it. He wonders if growing up, Virgil was left alone and terrified because no one wanted to be with him. He tries shaking that thought away. He has to focus on how he can help Virgil now, in the present.

“I am truly sorry for breaking my promise, little raindrop,” Roman says, “I’ll stay with you and protect you from any evil Dragon Witch, knight’s honor.”

Virgil shifts, his little head popping up to look at him.

“Really?” Virgil asks, his eyes so bright and hopeful at the prospect that it hurts Roman’s heart even more.

“Really.” Roman says, booping Virgil’s nose. The kid actually giggles from it. Roman isn’t sure if he’s ever heard Virgil properly laugh before in his life. Usually it’s a dry, sarcastic chuckle or faint muffled laughter from Virgil covering his mouth. When Virgil gets back to normal, Roman decides to make it his mission to get an actual laugh out of the anxious side.

“Hey, wanna help me make a blanket fort?” He asks.

Virgil starts to nod his head before hesitating, “I--I don’t know how!”

“That’s okay, I can show you how if you’d like.”

A small smile slips onto his face, “Okay.”

“Alright,” Roman says, “Let’s get down to business!”

With a single hand, he conjures up the most fluffiest, softest pillows, blankets and stuffed animals imaginable. He looks at Virgil, who has his eyes on the purple bat plushie.  He grins, pleased to know he’d been right to summon that one. He moves toward it, propping Virgil on one hip in order to grab it.

“Here you go.” He says, presenting the bat plushy with the reverence it deserves. 

“I can have it?” Virgil asks, squinting his eyes at Roman, “N-no tricks?” 

Roman wants to throttle whoever dared to hurt young Virgil, himself included, right then and there. No child should be so hesitant about receiving a toy because they’re afraid someone is going to snatch it away last second. However, he doesn’t want to frighten Virgil anymore than he probably is. Instead he takes a deep breath and smiles.

“No tricks, little prince. Her name is Zola and she likes it when you hug her, it helps her feel less scared. You think you can take care of her for me?”

“Y-yeah.” Virgil tentatively nods, and Roman places the bat plushie into his arms.

“Good. Now let’s make the most supercalifragilisticexpialidocious blanket fort!”

“Supercali--super--” Virgil frowns, “what’s that?”

“Why it’s something to say when you have nothing to say!” 

“That’s silly.”

“No it isn’t.”

“It is too!”

The two settle into a lighthearted, childish banter as they set up the blanket fort. It’s a bit difficult, since Virgil continues to koala-cuddle him but Roman makes it work. With the finishing touch of fairy-lights, Roman thinks it’s quite grand. It’s been a while since he’s made a blanket fort. It’s mostly a thing both him and Patton indulge in. Logan sees them as impractical and Virgil, well. For whatever reason, Virgil has never been open to them.

“What now?” The little Imp of Fright asks, still staring at Roman like he holds the entire world in the palm of his hand. Had Virgil always look up at him with such love and admiration when they were kids? How was his younger self so blind to it? How could he take one look at Virgil and decide he was a villain that needed to be slain? 

“Creativity?” Virgil tugs at his sleeve, clutching Zola to his chest with his other hand, “You okay?”

Roman jolts out of his thoughts, “Oh, yes, I’m fine!”

“No you’re not, you’re crying!” 

“Oh,” He touches his wet cheeks, “I suppose I am.”

“Is-is it me?” Virgil hiccups, “Did I do something bad? I’m sorry--please don’t get upset--”

“Anx, take a deep breath,” Roman cuts in, trying to keep the kid from working himself up too much, “You’re okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But you were crying. That’s bad!” Virgil exclaims, on the edge of sobbing himself.

Oh dear Hera, Roman thinks. He’s not cut out for this. Patton would know how to calm Virgil down, how to explain things away in a positive, uplifting note. Logan would even be better than him. He could stay calm and rational, diverting Virgil’s attention to some fascinating fact. However they aren’t here and so he must try to do his best without them.

“Not all tears are bad,” Roman says, “sometimes...people get so happy they cry tears of joy. I just got so happy, because we were able to make the best blanket fort I’ve ever seen in my life! And you, little prince, helped. Why, I think it’s even more marvelous than King Arthur’s castle. Surely, you’ve heard of King Arthur?” 

“N-no,” Virgil sniffles.

“Well that won’t do,” Roman declares, “I guess I will have to rectify that by telling you the story of how he became King.”

Somewhere in the midst of his superfluous retelling of Arthurian legends, the two end up in the cozy confines of the blanket fort. Virgil sits on his lap, holding Zola as Roman waves his hands around as he speaks. Slowly, Virgil gets more captivated, asking questions of his own. 

“Wasn’t King Arthur scared?” Virgil asks at one point.

“Oh of course not. The Knights of the Round Table were there with him. He knew with his friends by his side, they’d be able to defeat the dragon together.”

“What do they do?”

“What do they do? Well, of course, dragons are crafty beings, so they had to hatch up a plan that would fool even the smartest of dragons…”

He’s enjoying this a little too much, to be honest. It has been a long, long while since he’s tapped into his core function in such a way. When he was younger, he used to make up stories on the spot all the time. He never cared which direction it went, so long as it ended happily. Nowadays, he doesn’t have time to waste on such needless whimsy. All of his ideas must be dedicated towards Thomas’ career in some way. They must be big and important. They must be perfect or else they don’t matter at all.

Halfway through, his little prince lets out a yawn with Roman following suit. 

“I guess we’re both getting sleepy, huh?” Roman muses. He had stayed up until the devil’s hour to finish a new video idea, so it’s no wonder he’s yawning as well.

“I’m not!” Virgil protests, even as another yawn escapes him, “I wanna know what happens next to Sir Gawain!”

“Alright, alright, I’ll keep going.” Roman says and he holds to that promise. He keeps on going until he asks the Child of the Corn a question and he doesn’t answer. He glances down to see Virgil curled up against him once more, fast asleep. Carefully, he maneuvers himself and Virgil until they are both lying down on the pile of blankets and couch cushions. 

“Sleep well, Virgil,” He whispers, pulling a soft, fuzzy blanket over the kid.

Roman can’t change the past. Virgil will return to his cankerous, worrywart adult self soon, he’s sure of it. For now, Roman will be the prince that the kid Virgil used to be deserved.

< A Little Prince | The Tiny Terror | An Itsy Bitsy Nightmare > 

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #brotherly prinixety #platonic lamp #kat writes #I will probably continue this #somedaaaay #in the nearby future

[papers4me]

Fruits Basket SE02 (ep,9). part 1

You know it’s real when kyo is given monologue right from the beginning! It rarely happens that he’s allowed any!, but when he does, it hits like a wild wave changing everything. The story is never the same after each time he’s given inner-talk. Forever changing the dynamics, the secrets & the relationships. e.g. true form ep.

Kyo’s love confession:

The sweetest, most tender love confession from the character that started the show fighting & screaming! The one that hated himself the most! now loves his name, only cuz she said it! “a special ring to it”. the guy who couldn’t look at her face, will repeat stupid things over “if it made you smile”. “Since when did I started” falling in love with you? the show goes on to show us various moment from as early as ep,4 & throughout seasons & scenes! he doesn’t know! We, the viewers, also don’t know when he started loving her!! we kinda gradually~ normally~ unknowingly~ fell in love with them together. The show opened this heavy ep filled with first-hand experience & steps on how Akito destroyed his victim... ouch! well-played, furuba! well-played.

The location: An empty room, no furniture, small, suffocating. The abuser sits far, then slowly walks towards the prey until there’s no space. But not before causing  physical pain to reassure dominance over the victim.

STEP 1: (The BET).

Kyo in his attempts to fight his destiny has met up with Akito prior to the beginning of the story, to defy him. Akito cleverly traps kyo into a bet manipulating his desire to break away from his fate. you said, YOU can fight your destiny? ok. I’ll let you. If you win against yuki, I’ll let you be free. easy, right? kyo this is your chance to prove yourself to yourself! just practice & win a stupid match. EASY! except it isn’t. The rat is superior to the cat. Your trials are in vain. you’ll NEVER rise up to anything except a failure. Try for three years! so generous of Akito! 36 months! you only need to win once! But you WON’T EVER! planting a toxic seed that eats away the victim’s self-esteem, hope & desire. Give him the chance to believe in himself then CRUSH IT. Once kyo fails, he’ll never believe in himself again. The bet is now cancelled before the third year even begins! one year & a half of failure is enough. You LOST. The Directing was phenomenal! The scene is shot in shades of sickening green, with underwater feel, like kyo is drowning deep in Akito’s abuse. Akito was shown from kyo’s perspective. Distorted, scary & demonic. like a monster..

STEP 2: (the past)

Taunting kyo with selective words that hit exactly were it hurts the most, using affirmative sentences in calm authoritative tone, alluding to facts.“cuz you’re a monster, ur mom is dead” “it was ur fault” “u killed ur mom”. Akito painted kyo’s mom in martyr light. giving birth to a monster, admirably protecting & raising him. Her reward? DEATH due to immense pressure from being WITH him. Extra step: painting kyo as the unforgivable & unappreciative son “ her son didn’t even mourn her” cuz kyo didn’t cry in front of others in her funeral. all these words carved his psyche like daggers extracting buried memories of his dad doing like Akito. YOU caused ur mom grief. the memory is now crystal clear. His mom walking slowly with open arms towards death. Giving kyo her back knowing he’s there. choosing to abandon & leave him. cuz it is HIM that is too much to bear. it is HIM that she’s escaping from.

STEP 3: (the present)

“you should’ve died”, “if you didn’t exist EVERYONE would be happy” This everyone in particular destroyed kyo way more than Akito ever planned for. Everyone includes the present. Everyone includes ppl who aren’t sohma-related. Everyone includes a happy mother & daughter. Everyone includes kyoko & tohru. It is NOW that kyo crashes, falls, loses & bends. Kyoko is the nail in his coffin. Akito lets go of kyo’s hand. Mission accomplished.

-Miscalculation in Akito’s plan: (tohru)

Akito unwittingly ruins her plan by mentioning tohru. her triumphant smile disappears & her authoritative powerful voice turns into childish screams to silence kyo, pathetically covering her ears. This drastic shift in power resulted only by mentioning tohru. Realizing that tohru was used as tool for whatever reason gave kyo strength to stand up & defend her. how dare you call her a monster? how dare you call her an angel? NO. she is but a human. A kind soul. That stayed WITH me regardless of all my ugliness inside & outside. WHY? who does that? Who gives & never takes? the foolish traveler.

The foolish traveler’s role in liberating & confiding kyo:

In momiji’s story, the foolish traveler gives the monster her life & dies. Tohru gave kyo her presence. She did NOT heal him or fade the ugliness away. NO. She didn’t treat his trauma. NO. she doesn’t even know abt his mom’s suicide!! she ONLY gave him her presence. She stayed with the monster. WHY? cuz she is a foolish person filled with kindness not wanting anything in return. But what happened to the the foolish traveler at the end of momiji’s story? she died. again DEATH surrounds kyo. If this foolish traveler stays with him death awaits her. History has proven kyo’s company lethal. the cat has cursed his most beloved ppl into death & harm. his dad, mom, kyoko. This story made kyo realize his romantic love to tohru & tragically made him understand the possible sad ending.

Akito’s Rebound:

Akito sizes the chance, strikes back & regains power. Like a hungry monster smelling fear! “ do u think u have the right to fall in love with someone?” “do u think you’re allowed?” Kyoko, reinforcing Akito’s words.”I won’t forgive you”. you, the monster knows love?? “who’s the real villain” you, the killer! “who’s the one who involved her the most” You, the most cursed! “it’s best if you are gone”.” I KNOW!” ,kyo said.

The fighter gives up:

“it was me”. every negative thought kyo has is reinforced by a past experience from someone in his life. Akito blackmails kyo into accepting his confinement in exchange of NOT harming tohru. It is becuz kyo finally loved someone enough to want to EXIST in this word that he finally stops fighting. He fought for years for himself. Now, he’ll give up for another person. Tohru’s love liberated him from hating himself enough to die or take his hatred on someone else, but, her love also imprisoned him into thinking he’ll never be worthy for her. His first thought upon seeing her is “ I want to be with u forever” but once again “ kyoko shows up reminding him” i wont forgive you” How can kyo wish to be with her? his entire trauma is against it. does he has the guts to rip tohru’s smile once he confess abt the past? What does he expect tohru to say once she knows? How would tohru react? he’ll scar her forever more than she’s already scarred. Those scars that she hides oh so well from others will become tragically apparent once he confess. So, No, kyo. Spare her the pain. who are you anyway? a mere monster that everyone will be happy if you disappeared” “why didn’t my mom kill me?” “she should’ve killed me” If she did.. then tohru would’ve been happy with her mom. “Why am I still alive?”

Kyo’s precious flower:

love is against logic. Logic says stay away from tohru & spare her ur unworthy existence. Love says look for her! love makes you run to her! love makes you want to see her first thing after getting out of the that room. love says cherish her, be around, stay with her. Love says she needs you! yes, the unworthy monster has been loved before! way before tohru!. Kazuma flashes in his mind & brings hope, Kyoko, flashes with a kind smile, teasing him, I see different hair styles, maybe repeatedly meeting kyo, love reminded kyo of the friend-kyoko! who recognized his loneliness, patted his head, reached out to him, she told him abt the tiny flower, showed him her most precious treasure. These ppl treated him as a human! NOT a monster, kazuma, kyoko & tohru, love opened his eyes to see the light amidst the darkness, the warmth of the sunset after the depth of suffocation. He won’t give up on life. NO, he wants to LIVE, to LOVE & to give back! he now knows that his existence isn’t completely worthless! he was there for tohru. he has already given her back time after time since they’ve met, he knows that! he made her smile, he saw her! the real her! tiny, foolish & oh so precious!  By the time he reached her he was able to genuinely smile from his heart! yes, he can smile cuz she’s with him now. He doesn’t care anymore abt the disgusting sohma & their curse. He only cares abt her. he won’t trample his precious flower, “ i once hoped to be always together, far away” to “ make you my own” But NO. he can’t hurt her with the painful memories, he’ll treat her with utmost respect, care & love until its time to say goodbye. quietly exiting from her life. As long as she’s not harmed. As long as her smile stays, so, he’ll stay with her together,” until we’re separated far apart”

#Fruits Basket #Anime Only #emotional paper #SE02 #kyo sohma #Tohru Honda #amazing ep! #long post

[chaosincurlss]

In another world, I’m camped at my best friend’s bedside, reminding her of all the ways I’m going to help her heal, of all the ways I am grateful she survived, of all the ways I love her. She wears a sleepy smile that I’ve seen nothing short of a million times, and a hospital gown that does nothing to hide away the deep purple of the harm the world has done to her. One person should never have known so much pain, and she never should have had to be the one reaching to swipe away the tears that cascaded along my cheeks. Of course, she wouldn’t be the girl I’d grown alongside if she wasn’t the one trying to piece me back together, even when she was the one falling apart. That would be the place where I know myself, where I know the person before me, where I’ve memorized the features of the face my eyes can’t leave.

In this world, I’m looking down at a person I’ve been told is my best friend, but the girl in the coffin looks nothing like her. Everyone comments on how she looks as if she’s sleeping, but those are just the lies they need to tell themselves, because the truth is that this corpse looks like nothing more than some mangled version of Elena Gilbert. As if some twisted person had been given a canvas and asked to paint an idea of her, a broken and warped idea of her that no restorative makeup was going to fix. Some depraved creature had been let loose with the idea of Elena Gilbert and they’d left her this distorted thing. Her cheeks sunken from where her bones had been crushed and they hadn’t cared quite enough to conceal it, the line of her hair disrupted by the loss from when she’d been pulled across the gravel, the perfect button shape of her nose that should be scrunched by laughter now forever scuffed by the injuries she would never have the chance to recover from. From the slumber she would never have the chance to awaken from. I don’t know why people say they look like they’re sleeping, now more than ever, I don’t understand why they say it. At best, they look dead. At worst, they look like someone you’ve never met, but are expected to mourn anyway.

In this stranger’s stray strands of chocolate hair, I was expected to find memories of the times we’d spent playing dress up before we had any idea of what the world would be. Of when we would take turns in whichever princess dress happened to be the favorite that week, though the plastic pearl clips were the constant that stayed with us through it all, and I wished I had them now — I wished I could tuck her hair away just as we did when we were nothing but a twirling vision of trouble in tiaras, and I wished for the magic they held for us then, the type of magic that could undo the very worst of days.

When I took this stranger’s icy cold hand in mine, it should have reminded me of the very first time she’d slipped her fingers between my own, when her skin against mine spoke of something more than it ever had before, of the night that had felt like finally coming home. When we’d held our breaths, and let the silence lay heavy in the darkness of a childhood bedroom, words too much of a threat to such a flighty thing, if we’d even had words for what we were at all.

There was a sickening connection that I didn’t care to recognise in the midst of all of this — one I didn’t care to recognise, which meant that it was the only thing my mind could latch itself on to. I wanted no link between this nauseating period in my life, and any kind of happy moment that I’d been lucky enough to share with Elena, but it was there. This sense of blur that only came along with an emotion so intense that the human body didn’t know what to do with it. There was no part in our mind well enough equipped for the way that our feelings can simply overpower every other function we have, so comes the blur. Either end of the spectrum, the body doesn’t care to differentiate, it all hits the nervous system in the same way, the edges of it lost to the intensity of it all.

The moments of undiluted ecstasy. The moments of debilitating grief. A blur.

How we went from friends to more, the stretch of time it took and the ways it wove its way into my days and into the very fabric of my being, much like the days since the accident and the flurry of planning for the wake and the way that it chipped away at the very fabric of my being. A blur.

The moments when our hands ventured further than they ever had before, the way she said my name as if it were a question, as if it was everything to her, the moment they said the word ‘dead’ and there wasn’t an inkling of a question to it, as if they weren’t taking everything from me. A blur.

The way her lips brushed over the sensitive skin of my stomach and demanded that every hair I had stand in salute to her and the ways she could make me feel, the way my screen lit up with her smile every time there was a call to make and I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to feel again. A blur.

Promises of forever made through tears as we braved her empty home for the first time since her parents went over the bridge and how I couldn’t leave her side, how I wouldn’t let her drown in her despair and waste what they would have wanted for her, how I stand alone without her arms around me and there’s nothing to keep me from going under. A blur.

As I try to find my memories’ home in this shell of a person I don’t recognise, without the comfort of the warm chestnut hues that housed every up and down of this rollercoaster that we had called us, the want of warmth soon boils over into a burn. A burning rage for the emptiness of it all, for the finality we would never have, for the clarity she would never be able to grant, for the moments that should have come with the time that we always assumed was guaranteed. Each moment ahead became blurred — first by the silent and pure anger that bubbled for a life that would remain unlived, buried six feet under with every possibility that went with it — second by the tears that came alongside the accompanying agony of such a realization.

From my parents, to my teachers, to my friends, to passersby on the street — I had always been this little gust of Chaos, the ever-twirling bundle of blonde curls, whose path you didn’t dare enter. Not without a taste for Chaos, or a strong enough armor to combat it.

And, oh, how the Chaos swirled below the surface, nothing in my path but this future of shattered bones and scattered dreams, and all that I knew was that I needed to reach for something real, and the scrap of this imposter that I’d been given was nothing close to enough. So much was left buried beneath the surface, beyond this face that I didn’t know, there had to be a piece of the girl I loved somewhere below the chunky wool of the turtleneck the undertakers had insisted upon. A freckle that sat just where her shoulder met her neck, perhaps they’d tucked away her mothers necklace to keep it safe, there had to be a piece of her somewhere, something to tie me to this desolation.

So, my fingers curled at the material, and pulled in search of a prayer that any God who watched over this abomination knew wouldn’t be answered. They would sit in their almightiness and laugh at the girl whose heart broke too easily, the girl who filled herself to the brim with more hope than any one person should be able to carry, the girl whose mouth would fall agape as her eyes fell upon the jagged markings that should be the dip of Elena Gilbert’s collar bones, the exact place where sweet kisses would pool in exchange for the sweeter sounds of her laughter. Not only was this not the body of someone I knew, it was barely a body at all, something sewn together and strategically layered with thick clothing to fool those who dared to gather here in this place that had no hope of salvation.

At once, my hand dropped away, and the material sprung back into place, returning back to its post to guard the secrets that lay below. I expected that the horror had found its way out from within, that the discovery couldn’t have gone unnoticed, but when my gaze shot upward — the same busy conversations were carrying on. The same stories being swapped of the loveliness of the girl we had all known, and the tragedy of such an accident, an accident that had somehow lost its details between the asphalt and this room. Silence and I weren’t well acquainted with one another, though my mind swam with the images that were now seared upon my brain, and they were something as unfathomable to me as the fact that I apparently hadn’t made a sound. Then I can feel that edge approaching, the one where the blur takes over, the one where your mind decides that your fragile little self has had too much of the emotion that it has given to you, and floats you out to sea until you can be trusted to be returned to calmer waters. There was no comfort to be found within the confines of the casket, lesser comfort to be found in the walls that surrounded me, and yet I couldn’t help but search — as if she might round the corner at any moment, and this might have been nothing more than the worst corners of my mind grasping at my dreams. Solace was all that I asked, among all of the unknown, just a moment of relief.

In a sea of unfamiliarity, there stood a startling reminder of what unfamiliar truly was, a face in the flood of bodies that swirled in this whirlpool that threatened to pull me under — an expression of complete stillness amid this Chaos, tucked away at the very edges of the crowd, where another may have let him remain nothing but alien. Not me, not the ever dutiful hostess whose role was snapping back into place at the sight of a guest left unwelcomed, one who was also uninvited as far as I was concerned. This skin of someone who planned, who preened, who tended to the details and the finer details of events — it was the familiar ground I’d needed to find my footing once again. It wasn’t the hand I’d wished to hold, it wasn’t the beauty mark I’d sworn to worship for the rest of my days, but it pulled me far enough away from the depths to satisfy the ever watchful guardian within my mind that was determined to protect me from myself. If I never said it aloud, the Gods that spent their days laughing away at my misfortune would know and wonder at the miracle of my gratitude for the rudeness of a man who showed up to a funeral without invitation. For they would know that if it weren’t for that moment, if my eyes hadn’t caught on his, if I wasn’t compelled to leave Elena’s side and ever so politely quiz him on his funeral attending etiquette — the waves would have crashed over me, and I never would have seen shore again.

[commentaryvorg]

If you could change anything from Kaito's character arc in V3, what would you change?

Honestly? The short answer is nothing.

Kaito's character arc is fantastically crafted. There are so many tiny, seemingly-innocuous lines and moments that actually serve a vital purpose in either showing us what's going on in Kaito's head despite him never talking about it, or in pushing his arc along further, all of which I had so much fun talking about throughout the commentary. Granted, a lot of it is subtle and difficult to spot - but then it should be, considering how much Kaito tries to hide his issues. When you look for it, though, it is very deliberately there and not meaninglessly ambiguous at all. There's not a single part of Kaito's arc where I'm thinking “this was written badly”; even his phobia, as much as I'm sad that it gives Kaito less screentime and less being-himself in chapter 3, serves multiple purposes for the story and for Kaito's arc. Kaito's writers are the best and I adore how much care and attention they put into writing him.

I've seen a fair few people, presumably fans of Kaito, say “Kaito deserved better”, and... they're wrong. Well, unless they mean it in a purely in-universe sense, in which case of course he did, but then so did everyone, that's kind of the point. But if they mean it in an out-universe sense, in that they think Kaito deserved a better story for how good of a character he is? No! Kaito's story is amazing. He is the best-written character in this game and got absolutely everything he deserved, narratively speaking. I genuinely believe this with all of my heart. If other people don't see it, then they aren't looking hard enough - which is understandable, but also a shame when those people are fans of Kaito who presumably want to enjoy his story as much as they can. I just want to take all of these people and show them my commentary so that they can realise just how good Kaito's arc really is and love him even more like he deserves. (And I am endlessly thrilled that the commentary does seem to have had that kind of effect on some people!)

Obviously I would also love to see a story in which Kaito learns that it's okay to show weakness to his sidekicks, completely untangles his horrendous double-standard for heroes and begins to have healthy, mutually-supportive relationships with his friends. But... that was never this story. This is a story in which Kaito's messed-up view of what it means to be a hero literally gets him killed while all but destroying his sense of self-worth in the process, yet he still manages to keep fighting and make at least some kind of difference for his friends anyway, because he still is a hero despite what he might believe about himself. And that's also a fantastic story to tell!

It's kind of like something I've also considered about Ryoma. It would have been quite possible to tell a story in which Ryoma overcomes his issues and finds a reason to live and survives, and I'd have loved a story like that with him, because Ryoma is great and deserves to be happy. But the story of how he didn't manage to overcome his issues and tragically died because of them is also a compelling story that it's possible to tell with Ryoma's character - and, well, someone had to be chapter 2's victim. With characters as ripe with potential as Kaito, or Ryoma, or really any complex and well-written character in anything, there's so many different and equally compelling stories that could be told with them. But you can't tell all of those stories at once, and that's okay.

(That's why it's great that we have fanwork, to explore all of those other possible stories that couldn't be told in canon!)

With all that said, since this is about Kaito, you know I don't want to just leave it at the (very elaborated-upon) short answer. So here's a few things I thought of anyway that I might want to change if I could - all of which are really very minor nitpicks that barely matter in the grand scheme of things.

The absolute first thing I'd do is remove those four-ish lines in which Kaito is vaguely sexist in a way that is provably out-of-character for him. Gone. Expunged. Never there. Suddenly, magically, there is no longer a portion of the fandom that believes that Kaito is supposed to be sexist, and we literally only changed like four lines of his dialogue. Funny, that.

I'd also want to slightly change the parts where Kaito freaks out in a too-extreme way over ghosts once his phobia's been revealed. Not only is it not really quite in character for him to overreact that badly when he'd be doing his best to hide it, it also comes across like Kaito's phobia is being played for comedy. Which it shouldn’t be. He is literally mentally ill; that's not a joke.

These are the only two aspects of the way in which Kaito's written that I find actively bad in any appreciable way. And, yeah, they're really minor things that don't have anything to do with his actual character arc. That's kind of my point here!

...Though, admittedly, the part where Maki punches Kaito after he clings to her during his phobia-overreaction does actually play a small role in his character arc in that it seems to shift him into beginning to freak out more about his physical illness instead. Hm. Not sure what I'd do about that.

In terms of things I might change that are more meaningful and relevant to Kaito's arc, as I've said, there's really nothing that's actively bad at all. Rather, we're just getting into things where I'd maybe want to add a little bit more on top of what's already there.

Kokichi Doing The Thing in trial 4 - aka, repeatedly heaping insincere praise onto Shuichi in what's really a transparent attempt to jab at Kaito's jealousy and inferiority complex - should have continued for longer than it did instead of being weirdly confined to one specific quarter of the trial. There are plenty of moments after that that would have been perfectly good opportunities for it! And yes, this is absolutely part of Kaito's arc, shush. Not that this would have significantly affected how Kaito would respond or make his breakdown any more spectacular than it already was, mind you, because Kokichi's jabs at Kaito were not nearly as important as Kokichi wanted them to be.

Then there's the part in chapter 5 where, after being kidnapped and offscreen for a while, Kaito has evidently become okay with Shuichi being more of a hero than him and can just be openly proud of him again. There's no specific evidence indicating why this happened, even though it's a pretty important shift for Kaito. This was the only part of Kaito's arc that I speculated about in the commentary without having anything concrete to back up what I think went on there. So if possible, I'd like to add some hints at that.

...That's easier said than done, though, since Kaito gets so little screentime at this point in the story for unavoidable plot reasons, is still not willing to directly talk about his issues, and was never even really consciously aware of his toxic double-standard for heroes that was the root of this whole problem that he's finally begun to fix. It's entirely possible that this is something the writers already wanted to hint at more than they did, but they just couldn't find a way to plausibly do so in that situation. This also still wouldn't be me changing anything about Kaito's arc, just making part of it a bit more easy to notice and figure out.

Lastly - though this isn't even strictly part of Kaito's arc - I'd love to have Shuichi acknowledge more than he does that Kaito had been suffering, and for him to reflect on that and wish that Kaito hadn't been so selfless (just like he did at one point with Kaede!). Obviously I wouldn't want to make him more aware of it for most of Kaito being alive, because that'd change too much and because Shuichi's obliviousness is part of the excruciating tragedy of it all. But after hearing at the end that Kaito really was sick and dying all along, and that Kaito was jealous of him, Shuichi should have been able to recognise at least some of Kaito's vulnerability in hindsight. Having some reflection on that at the end of chapter 5 or at some point during chapter 6 would be lovely to underline and draw attention to what Kaito's story was really about from Kaito's perspective. It might even prompt more of the fandom to actually realise this and notice what an amazing arc Kaito had, which sure would be nice.

...In fact, there's a very small window of time in which Shuichi could have plausibly acknowledged this kind of thing a little more than he did while Kaito was still alive to hear it and potentially benefit from it. So, actually, now that I think of it: the one change I'd make that'd have any real impact on Kaito's arc at all? It'd be this.

#danganronpa v3 #danganronpa v3 spoilers #reply #kaito momota #thanks for the ask! #you know i love a nice excuse to gush about why kaito is the best character #Anonymous

[themulberrytree]

character sheet.

full name: Shallan Davar pronunciation: Sha-Lahn Dah-var (fuck IPA i am not doing that shit again)

nicknames: strong one (by hoid), love, dear (by adolin), storming woman (mostly by kaladin)

height: 5′6″ age: 19/20 (rosharan years) / 21-22 (earth years)   zodiac: gemini (donut ask me when her bday is i donut have a date yet) languages: (spoken/written): veden (native), alethi, azish, selay (moderate skill in speaking only) thaylen (reading/writing only).

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

hair colour: rich, deep red, only red. eye colour: bright blue skin tone: shallan is very fair, though she spends as much time in the sun as she can, so her face is dusted with freckles. body type: slim and slender. unlike the curvaceous body type often seen on alethi women, shallan is much smaller both in figure and stature. she could be mistaken for delicate, at first glance. as she spends more time training with her blade, her body becomes much more defined and muscular, but she will never achieve any kind of bulky muscles, she simply does not have the body type.

accent: her natural veder accent would be considered low, given shallan’s isolation out in the countryside. she can speak in a more posh (re: acceptable) accent, but she has little reason to do so. dominant hand: right posture: shallan has the posture of a perfect vorin lady, back straight and shoulders back at all times. when sitting, her freehand always covers her safehand, placed delicately in her lap unless she is sketching. when walking, her hands are clasped in front of her. she is rarely animated in her posture when speaking, and depending on her company, she works hard to blend in. when alone, shallan may slouch when studying, or do her work in a very unlady like fashion on her bed. if she trusts her present company, they may witness this lapse in acceptable posture, but only if she trusts them.

CHILDHOOD.

place of birth: jah kaved hometown: some hick town in the middle of the countryside. birth weight / height: 6 pounds, 3 ounces. 18 inches. manner of birth: natural first words: pa siblings: (all elder, all brothers) helaran, balat, twins: wikim and jushu parents: lin davar, and an unnamed mother, malise davar (step mother), all deceased. parental involvement: shallan remembers a somewhat happy childhood (although the likelihood of that being the case is up for debate). her mother taught her how to draw, and was in charge of shallan’s education in the early years. much of her early years have been forgotten due to the trauma of shallan’s witnessing (see: committing) her mother’s murder. she did not speak at all for half a year afterwards. from that point on, her father became overbearing, and with each year he was less of the man shallan had first known. he was violent towards two of her brothers and the servants, often scaring away tutors, so shallan’s education in those critical years was sporadic at best. her father demanded complete obedience, and any deviation on her part meant that a servant got beaten in her place. in order to spare them and placate her father, shallan worked hard to draw little attention to herself and obey. it was her father who also chose her devotary (purity) rather than her having the opportunity to choose for herself.

ADULT LIFE

occupation: she is the ward of jasnah kholin, having managed to convince the woman she was worthy of wardship at seventeen. after being taken in, shallan begins her education in scholarship, fine tuning her skills in making logic based arguments, study, and critical thinking.

on the shattered plains, she secures work with highprince sebarial as a clerk while maintaining the work in finding urithiru that she started with jasnah, and working to infiltrate the secret group known as the ghostbloods.

she latter assumes a more public role as a knight radiant, the first of the order of lightweavers in centuries. while her status as a radiant is known, she works very hard to keep her work covert. she deals in spywork and information, and uses her lightweaving to form disguises for herself and associates. she has also used her abilities to battle unmade, work oathgates, and help run reconnaissance in kholinar.

as highprincess, her duties would include helping manage affairs of the realm and detecting intrigue to better aid her husband.

close friends: lmafo what are those????? jk, her brothers, later adolin, renarin, kaladin, jasnah (sort of, more teacher/student) wit/hoid (when he’s around). relationship status: verse dependent, married to adolin kholin in canon financial status: her family is destitute, and shallan herself has little experience in personally handling money. that being said, she knows how to balance finances and plan expenses. when working for sebarial, she manages to secure a comfortable pay from him, her later marriage secures her financial security, though her status as a radiant could’ve done that too. driver’s license: she could probably drive, but would be terrible at it due to the fact that she’d keep lookin out the window. she has little experience on horseback, but can manage. criminal record: technically none yet, having managed to get away with murder twice. she had also stolen successfully from jasnah kholin.  

SEX & ROMANCE.

sexual orientation: bisexual romantic orientation: biromantic, could be polyromantic preferred emotional role: submissive (someone pls force her to accept comfort i am beggin) | dominant |  switch  |  unsure preferred sexual role: submissive |  dominant  |  switch  |  sex repulsed | libido: she’s basically DTF anytime and anywhere, and yes, i wish i were kidding, but she’s just horny on main. turn ons: she’s into more traditional kinds of attractiveness, people who look put together. but she really enjoys some kind of hint at wildness, hair that won’t quite stay, a kind of subtle ruggedness. post-battle disheveledness  is HOT. allow her to talk about her studies, things she’s working on or wanting to start, she’ll love that. don’t be afraid to talk about your own interests, she goes off on her own a lot, so she’ll want someone with their own hobbies too. be kind, be willing to grow and change and share. be there if she asks. laugh at her absolutely fucking awful jokes. on the more physical side, not being afraid to show affection in public. that spot on the neck below the ear? yeah, kiss it. leave a mark. kiss the inside of her wrist. do not be afraid to be rough with her, she’s not easily hurt and she doesn’t always like being treated like a china doll. go to town. BUT you must also be good at taking your time. tenderness is a good trait to have in every day life, but if you can translate that into the intimacy of the bedroom, give her a slow buildup, ur golden. turn offs: unnecessary rudeness, lack of independence. anyone who treats her like she needs protecting, or thinks she needs to confine herself in some way, for any amount of time. never laughing at her terrible jokes, or indulging her seemingly random curiosities. being a skybreaker. love language: physical touch is primary, but quality time and words of affirmation are also great. relationship tendencies: shallan has a tendency to fall fast. even when she’s telling herself to be careful and take things slow, it’s easy to pull her in and have her grow an attachment on a superficial level fairly early. she’s good about letting the other person lean on her for support, but she’s not so great when it comes to sharing anything deep about herself. she has a habit of trying to mold herself into what she thinks the other person would like, and clinging to that. if confused she might play around with feelings, though she’s not fully aware she’s doing it. she’s big on positive reinforcement, she’ll let you know if she enjoys your company, and when she’s invested in the relationship, she’ll look for fun ways to spend time with that person. she might attempt to appear more serious and mature than she is, but her silliness will slip out. when she loves though, she loves completely, and a distracted heart is settled once she makes a decision about what she wants.

MISCELLANEOUS.

character’s theme song: flowers, from ha.des.town iris, goo goo dolls moth’s wings, passion pit: this is more a general vibe. i picture it when shallan is in a creative spurt. sun, sleeping at last: for the same creation aesthetic. fire drills, dessa (for when she finally Snaps. and also some lines just really Hit)

hobbies to pass the time: drawing is the big one. she’s always got her sketchbook and something to draw with on hand. it’s an art she’s perfected and uses it both for her lightweaving, and to relax. she enjoys scholarship, exploring history is of a special interest, but taking a closer look at the local flora and fauna is just as fun. she’s naturally curious, so if something grabs her attention, she will want to take a look. she also enjoys discussing what she’s working on with other people, sometimes just so she can use them as a sounding board, but also because they might have insights she doesn’t. it’s very fun for her to explore ideas. she likes going on walks, exploring the area around her. just spending quality time with people she enjoys too. mental illnesses: Dissociative Personality Disorder is the big one. ADHD, PTSD, some depression. physical illnesses: None. left or right brained: right fears: CONFINEMENT. she fears vulnerability and relying others, but she also craves it quite a bit. she fears being understood completely because she’s certain there isn’t anything left to love if someone were to see everything. she fears what she can’t understand, and losing the people she loves, more than she already has. self confidence level: extremely low. she projects an air of self confidence, but frequently downplays her talents. she finds it completely astounding that adolin might actually find her attractive in any sense, let alone be interested in her as a person. her trauma and what she precieves as crimes has left her feeling hollowed out, because she is so terrified of someone really Seeing her, she works hard to hide those corners of herself from others and often feels like she’s failing at even that. vulnerabilities: shallan keeps secrets. too many of them. and she can often dig herself into a pit and struggle to get herself out, and even when she’s in that deep, she has difficulty asking for help. she doesn’t always think things through. her dpd can leave her particularly vulnerable depending on which personality is in control (veil in particular has trouble seeing the Big Picture). it’s easy to goad her into a fight (of the verbal variety) and she will stop at nothing to have the last word. if you have members of her family to hold over her, that’s a good tool. and shallan cannot resist a good mystery, that is a surefire way to pull her in.

tagged by: @luck-crowned tagging: @marblecarved (for mary, emma, or horace!), @melnchly (meg or ros), @minastiriiths, @arturiusrex, @gxtenoughnxrve, @ambiidexter, and @arborvitas

#c. shallan #this took me several days of fact checking the books for some shit lmafo #anyway meet my garbage daughter