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#let’s let him be a little evil too come on now
theminecraftbee · 2 days
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Wels hums as he walks through the shopping district. He doesn't need much, but with the recent release of Overlord, he wants to hear if any of the establishments are playing it. He doesn't expect it somewhere like the Permit Office--Grian's spent too much time and money getting a song that was as perfectly annoying to be put on hold to as possible--and if it is playing in the log shop, he will laugh. But music tends to spread around Hermitcraft fast, and sure, this isn't about anything specific, but who's gonna miss a good opportunity to dunk on Doc?
He hears the backing beats from a nearby shop and hums along with them, walking down the path--
--then turns a corner and leaps back.
"You," Wels hisses.
Hello. Awfully rude of you not to include me, you know, says the specter.
"No, there's absolutely no reason for you to be here. None at all!" Wels says, throwing his hands up. "The last time I saw you was--gosh, I don't even know. Season Seven?"
Yes, yes, and the only time you saw me, you aren't lying to yourself at all, the specter says agreeably. Come on. We both know I was haunting you for what little of Season Eight you bothered to be around for.
"If you were on Eight then you super shouldn't be here," Welsknight says. He shakes his head and looks up at the shop playing his song. Joel's? Huh. Wouldn't have thought he'd have a reason to make fun of Doc. Welsknight removes his shaking hand from his sword hilt again and starts walking.
On account of you leaving everyone there to die, yes, we're both aware, the specter says.
"Oh, screw you, you wouldn't have done any different, get new material," Wels says. "Also, you aren't real? You're like, all of my insecurities or whatever. You don't even have a real body right now, no one's made you one."
The specter shrugs. I mean, if I'm the worst parts of yourself, really, you're the one who needs better material. Abandoning all your friends to die and then abandoning them altogether--it's a wonder they let you stick around!
Wels rolls his eyes and forces his hand to stay out of his inventory. Wouldn't do to give away that still even gets him. He peaks at another shop. They're playing the song too, but it's ever-so-slightly out of sync, which is kind of terrible. As he does, Cleo waves at him. Their eyes sort of stutter right past Helsknight, which definitively tells him exactly how much body the specter even has to possess right now.
"I'm actually having a great time with my friends this season, so like, the whole 'abandonment' song and dance isn't going to work this time. Started the season with them and everything; hard to even go for 'they'll forget me at the first opportunity' or whatever."
The thing is, the more Wels says it, the more its true. None of the insecurities and pain points that the specter is echoing back at him are what he was actually thinking about. He's been like... fine? Sure, he's definitely still got repressed negative traits, but nothing like "Xisuma's evil twin brother playing around with his head" or "the moon crashing and killing everyone" or "too depressed and burnt out to get out of bed" or "sort of considering abandoning everyone because that's like, his thing" these days. None of the things that should bring the specter that had haunted him since Beef's cloning machine back to him without a body. But Wels is careful about clones outside of something like Vault Hunters, where they're explicitly under his control. He, like, doesn't even armor stand much. So that can't be this either; Helsknight clearly doesn't have a body to be messing with Wels yet!
...Helsknight doesn't even have a body or an actual insecurity to be poking at Wels with yet.
He stops. He puts his hands in his pockets, and turns around to face Helsknight. He is no longer shaking at all.
"Dude, why are you even here?" Wels asks.
I told you, it was rude to leave me out, Helsknight says.
"What," Wels says.
The final bars of Overlord play over the speakers. Welsknight hums and nods before it suddenly clicks.
"What," Wels says again.
Honestly, you're not normally this much of a moron. It was rude to leave me out. Rapping is also my thing.
"Dude," Wels says.
I could totally destroy Docm77 any day. I would obliterate the fool you call a "friend" in ways you cannot comprehend. You invoke a sacrificial goat? I know ways he'd never recover, gods he'd never be able to retrieve himself from. It would be laughable. And you left me out.
Wels stares at the demon from his nightmares.
"You're mad at me because you didn't get to be in my diss track," Wels says.
You let me be in the last one, Helsknight says.
"Dude," Wels says. "Dude, that's pathetic."
Helsknight sniffs. I'm your worst qualities. What does that say about you.
"I didn't even write this for this season," Wels says.
That makes it worse, Helsknight says.
"I don't even know where to start? For one--no, I still don't even know where to start," Wels says. "This is like, the lamest reason you could possibly have to come haunt me. Go away, I'm basking in my like, top 3 charting hit on the Hermitcraft server."
Top three? Pathetic. There are only three songs. You'd be the top song if you'd simply included my power, Helsknight says.
"I can't beat the streaming minutes Grian puts on that hold--look, uh, dude. You're, uh, a very scary representation of my fears and worst qualities and all. Appreciate that. Next time I need to do a diss track, I don't know, maybe I'll invite you? First you've got to stop appearing solely to make my life worse, though. Bring me a cookie or something. I don't know, whatever demons do."
I'm not a demon, I'm a Shadow. We're different, Helsknight says. ...I'll think about it.
When Wels turns the next corner, Helsknight has vanished again. Wels stops in the middle of the street, looks around, confirms the specter has vanished, and then bursts out laughing.
"What the Hels," he says, somehow feeling lighter and more bemused than before. That's a new feeling with his doppleganger. Then, he goes to visit Big Wood. While Doc definitely isn't playing the song of his own accord, Wels figures that Beef just might, and given the day he's having, that would feel like a kind of irony Wels isn't sure how to describe. Besides, he wants to see if Doc will notice if Wels sets the song on loop or something. What can he say--the man's reactions to being taunted are spectacular, and Wels loves seeing them. Call it a bad quality of his or something.
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lillie98 · 2 days
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How to Save the World—Stranger Things 5
I’ve had some time to sleep on the episode titles and think about them, read theories, etc. and I now believe they might be real.
Hear me out: Stranger Things is all about cycles, parallels, tropes happening over and over again. The Duffers love taking a moment and repeating it in slightly different ways to prove a point. The story started with “The Vanishing of Will Byers” because we needed to place a small, innocent child in the center of our story, something to bring our character together and drive them to action. Well, that child is no longer in danger and our team is ripping apart at the seams. It’s almost like we need something similar to reunite everyone and drive them to action again.
Remember: The Duffers love parallels. Will’s disappearance brought his deeply fractured family together, uniting them for a common cause. It also brought Nancy and Jon together when their families needed them most. Now, the Byers are a united front, ready to tackle any monster that comes their way. They are the glorification of the avant-gard family. Now which family is struggling? The Wheelers. The perfect, All-America Nuclear Family: Mom, Dad, 3 kids, and a picket fence. They look perfect to the outside world, but behind closed doors, they are deeply struggling. They don’t communicate, the parents have idea what’s happening in their children’s lives, and if they’re not careful, if they don’t come together and form a united front—they’re going to lose everything, potentially causing the end of the world. (Why? I haven’t gotten that far yet!)
Now, how do we inspire them to action? Maybe by taking the child who was born to save their crumbling marriage—the one has seen everything but, up until this point, been too young to contribute. Now, she’ll be the same age Will was when he disappeared and Mike and Will are the same age as Jon and Nancy. The Duffers are trying to illustrate the idea of “The Next Generation.” This evil, this Upside Down dimension is NEVER going to stop until someone from the Wheeler and Byers families breaks the cycle. Children will continue to vanish, the world will continue to crumble, until someone steps up and says ENOUGH. The Wheelers and Byers (parents and children) must step up and face their pasts in order to move forward.
The “Stranger Things” are not only LGBTQ+ matters, they are the skeletons we hide in the closet that literally eat us alive. They are the dark, festering parts of ourselves we don’t let anyone else see. The invisible cancers that slowly and silently kill us. Until we face them head on, until we bring them to the light, they will NEVER die. Stranger Things is about owning your past, facing your fears, and finding the light again.
So yes, Stranger Things will end with Will Byers making it home from Mike Wheeler’s house on November 6, 1983, but not in a time traveling way, in a finally letting go of that scared, pained little boy who thought the world was better off without him. It’s Mike accepting his sexuality and place in his family. His role as a leader. It’s Joyce accepting love from Hopper, who must accept that he is not actually cursed, but that sometimes, bad things happen to good people, even when they think they’re doing the right thing (Vietnam). it’s Karen and Ted falling in love again and fighting to save their family. It’s Eleven discovering that love, not anger, should fuel her powers. It’s mourning your stolen childhood while stepping into the version of yourself that child never got to be. It’s stopping the cycle and creating a better world for the Will Byers and Mike Wheelers and Jane Hoppers of tomorrow. THAT’S how you become a Hero.
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hbyrde36 · 10 hours
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for @penny00dreadful
Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 <-
Chapter 4: No Place Like Home
WC: 5496 | Ch 4/4 | AO3 <-
It was a surprisingly smooth landing as Steve was brought into the highest tower of the Witch’s castle through a large open window, caught in the exceptionally strong grip of the two flying monkeys who carried him there. 
Eddie had arrived the same way only a moment or two ahead of him, and was now struggling against his own guard monkey's hold, trying to get to Steve while being dragged out of one of the room’s two doors.
“It’s so kind of you both to visit me in my loneliness.” The Wicked Witch cackled, standing in the middle of the chamber next to a huge crystal ball, the image displayed within it fading before Steve could suss it out. 
“What are you gonna do with Eddie? Where are they taking him?!” Now that his feet were on solid ground, Steve tried to fight back, but couldn’t seem to shake his captors.
The Witch waved a dismissive hand. “Never you mind about that.”
“Give him back to me!” Steve raged.
“Certainly, certainly, as soon as you give me those slippers.”
Steve swallowed hard, hesitating. He knew what Eddie would probably say, that it was a terrible idea to give her even more power—to give her what she wanted. 
At his silence, she turned, addressing a few more of her little monsters that were waiting on standby around the room. “Very well. Boys?”
The flying monkey’s ears perked up. 
“Hurt him.”
Steve braced himself as The Witch’s henchman quickly moved to follow her command, but it wasn’t him they were coming for, instead they raced out the same door Eddie had just been forced through.
“No!” Steve shouted, willing to risk anything if it kept Eddie safe.  “Take the damn shoes, I don't care! Just don’t… don’t hurt him, please.”
She shot him a cruel grin, and the monkeys holding him finally let go, backing away as she stalked closer. “That’s a good boy.” 
Steve snarled, briefly considering kicking her right in her smug face as she bent down, but thought she might be less likely to let Eddie go if he did. 
Begrudgingly, he held himself still as she reached out her hands, but before she could even lay a finger on the shoes, there was a flash of light, a spark like electricity crackling, and a force lashed out to zap her. 
The Witch jumped back, hissing. “Curse you!”
“That wasn’t me! I swear!”
“No, but I should have known. My sister must have put a spell on them. They’ll never come off… as long as you’re alive.” She circled him slowly, tapping the end of her pointed chin. “Now the only question is how to do it.”
“Oh for the love of—” Steve scrubbed a hand over his face. “Just kill me if you’re going to kill me, alright? Why do you people always have to drag shit out?
“What people?”
“Bad guys!”
She huffed, straightening her cloak. “These things must be done delicately, or you hurt the spell.”
“They're always monologuing about their evil plans too. I mean, what’s up with that?” Eddie’s voice rang out from where he had suddenly appeared in the doorway behind The Witch, somehow having given his guards the slip.
She stomped her feet. “I don’t mono—” She began, then gasped, spinning around. “How did you get free?!”
Steve wracked his brain to come up with some kind of distraction, anything to keep her busy long enough for them to get away. 
“Hey, Witch!” He called out as he squatted to pick up the massive crystal ball he’d noticed on arrival, even heavier than it looked, and began to carry it towards one of the  windows. “You don’t need this for anything important, right?” 
“Put that back! It’s priceless!” she shrieked.
“It’s pretty heavy, I don’t know if i can–” Steve cut himself off, pretending to stumble, and tossed the ball as hard as he could, hoping she’d try to catch it.
She dove, and in an impressive show of strength and dexterity managed to get under the ball before it hit the ground, preventing it from breaking. She looked stunned from the fall, the weight of the crystal pinning her to the ground for the time being.
Steve made to run to Eddie’s side, but just then, the other set of doors burst open and half a dozen very tall foot soldiers in ornate uniforms, furry helmets, and with the same bright green skin as their ruler, spilled into the room, rounding on Steve and cutting them off from each other. 
“Just go!” Steve shouted.
Eddie shook his head, eyes darting from the door behind him to what he could see of Steve between the soldiers. “I’m not running away and leaving you here!”  
“Get out and find help! It's not running away if you���re coming back, right? Now— go!” 
“Damnit, Harrington.” Eddie cursed, taking a few stumbling steps towards the way out. “I am coming back.”
“I know.”
With one last tortured look Eddie took off, his pounding footsteps echoing as he ran through the hall and down what sounded like a set of stairs. Half the guards took off after him while the others remained with Steve, backing him into the wall.
Steve craned his neck, near enough to a window to peer out, hoping to catch a glimpse of Eddie’s escape and know first hand that he’d gotten away. 
“Come on, come on,” he chanted quietly to himself, even as the soldiers started trying to pull him back over to The Witch, who was unfortunately back on her feet again. The castle doors began to close as he watched, and for a second Steve thought all hope was lost, but then he spotted it—moonlight shining on dark curly hair, slipping through the opening just before the door slammed. 
Steve’s heart leapt, and he finally let himself be led back over to The Witch. No matter what else happened here, at least Eddie had made it. 
“You’ve been more trouble to me than you’re worth, brat!” 
“Heard that before.” Steve mumbled to himself. He didn’t fight as the hands on him shoved him down into a chair, figuring it was smarter to save his strength for now.
“But, it'll all be over soon,” The Witch added as she snatched a giant hourglass off a nearby shelf, flipping it over onto the table in front of him. “That’s how much longer you've got to be alive. When the sand runs out, I'll have made my preparations.”
With that, she and her soldiers left, locking both doors up tight, leaving him alone in the tower.
Steve didn’t waste time wondering why he wasn’t tied down or handcuffed, and was out of his seat in a flash. First he checked the doors because, duh, but they were, indeed, locked. He then ran back over to the window, wondering if he’d survive the drop. It didn’t seem likely—even if he did, there was no way he’d walk away from that kind of fall without needing serious medical attention, and he had yet to see a single hospital in Oz. 
His next move was to search the room for weapons, something to break the doors in, or anything he might be able to use to climb down. The curtains proved to be useless, moth bitten and too slippery to really tie together, and apart from a chair leg he managed to break off that doubled as a wooden stake, he found nothing else useful to defend himself with. 
Time passed slowly.
And yeah, Steve had been through a lot in his life, but he’d never been kidnapped before. He never would have imagined it could be this… boring? 
There was only so long you could stand at attention, waiting for your captor to come back before your eyelids started to droop. He wound up sitting at the windowsill, head resting on his arm as he gazed out at the night sky, letting his mind wander. He didn’t really believe this was the last night of his life, he’d survived too much to be taken down by some psychotic pea-soup looking bitch, but any hope he had of seeing home again was gone.
He thought back on all the time he’d wasted—squandered opportunities to tell the people he loved just how much he loved them, the number of times he blew Dustin off to go on a date with some girl he couldn’t give two shits about, all these months since Vecna with Eddie, unable to accept his own feelings, and too afraid to admit them aloud. 
He was so lost in it all that he almost didn’t hear the sound of someone pounding on one of the doors. Reasonably sure The Witch wouldn’t be knocking in her own castle, he ran to it, pressing his ear to the wood. 
“Steve?!” A muffled voice shouted from the other side. 
Eddie!
“It’s me, yes! In here!”
“Stand back, I’m going to chop through the door!”
Steve stepped back, watching in awe as the wood slowly splintered away with each blow, until finally he could see Eddie’s face through it, distantly thinking it looked like he had some sort of animal resting on his head. 
A few more chops and there was a hole big enough for Steve to squeeze through. 
Once on the other side, he saw that Eddie wasn’t alone. The Tin Woman, The Scarecrow, and The Lion were all with him—all dressed like The Witch’s soldiers.
“Costume change?” Steve asked.
“Long story.” Eddie let out a shaking breath as he tore the fuzzy hat from his head and flung it aside, managing to shrug out of his big coat just in time to catch Steve as he threw himself into the other boy’s arms. 
“I wasn’t sure I'd ever see you again.” Steve whispered with his face pressed into Eddie’s hair. 
“You didn’t think I was really coming back?”
“I knew you’d try, even if I hoped you wouldn’t.”
Eddie squeezed him tighter. “You’re such a self sacrificial ass.”
“Takes one to know one.” Steve pulled back, punching him lightly in the shoulder before turning to The Scarecrow, drawing her into a quick hug too. “I can’t believe it, you’re really okay?”
“Might be missing a little stuffing here and there but, these two did a great job getting me back in one piece.”
Their reunion was abruptly cut short by shouts in the distance.
“We gotta get out of here!” The Lion roared.
“What about the broom?” Steve said.
Eddie grabbed his hand. “She wants to kill you, Steve, fuck the broom! We’ll find some other way home.”
The group of them flew down the stairs back towards the way they’d come in. By some miracle they didn’t see a soul along the way, but as they raced across the foyer, just before they reached the exit, the doors swung closed, right in their faces.
“Going so soon?”
Steve turned at The Witch’s voice, spotting her standing on a balcony above looking down at them, laughing, as soldiers began spilling into the space from every direction. They were surrounded, though oddly none of the green men actually attacked, only approached slowly and menacingly.
“That’s right,” The Witch praised her guards. “Don’t hurt them right away, we’ll let them think about it a little first.”
Steve rolled his eyes. 
Eddie raised the ax he still held, as though he would take on the entire brigade himself, but The Scarecrow snatched it out of his hand. 
“What the–” 
She swung it around, chopping and cutting a rope tied to the wall that Steve hadn’t even noticed, and sent a giant chandelier falling from the ceiling to land on a large group of the soldiers. 
“Good thinking!” Steve said, and they used the momentary distraction to flee, running up a different set of steps to get away since it was the only path that was clear. They had no idea where they were going, and up didn’t seem likely to lead out, but they had little choice now. 
The soldiers unaffected by the chandelier attack gave chase, and the five of them ran down corridor after corridor before finally spilling out onto the battlement, a part of the wall where soldiers patrol. It was a dead end and quickly they found themselves backed into a corner, soldiers on both sides, The Wicked Witch among them. 
“Well,” she sing-songed as she zeroed in on Steve, “ring around the rosie, a pocket full of spears. Thought you’d be pretty foxy didn’t you? Well the last to go will see the first four go before him.”
Eddie leaned into Steve’s side, whispering, “What the hell did she just say?”
“I have no idea.” Steve said.
“I think she’s going to kill the rest of us first and make you watch.” The Scarecrow guessed.
“Right you are, Scarecrow. So how about a little fire?” The Wicked Witch raised the head of her broom up to one of the many torches that ran along the length of the wall, lighting it.
There was no way Steve was letting her anywhere near The Scarecrow with that thing, she’d go up in seconds and unlike being disassembled he was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to come back from that. He lunged for the broomstick before she could lower it, grabbing it in the middle and fighting for control. 
The next thing Steve knew he was being soaked in water like he was a contestant in a wet t-shirt contest.
The fire was put out instantly, the broomstick clattering to the ground as The Witch started screaming bloody murder. 
“Look what you’ve done! I’m melting! Who would've thought two pretty-boy-brats like you could destroy my beautiful wickedness.”
It was only water—from the now empty bucket Eddie was holding that he’d found god knows where—but as though she’d been dipped in the most corrosive acid known to man, The Witch began to sizzle and smoke, and truly did melt away into a puddle on the stone floor, leaving nothing solid but her clothes behind.
“She’s dead, you killed her.” One of the soldiers blurted out.
Steve hovered, trying to shield Eddie, unsure of how this was going to play out. The witch might have been gone, but they were still sorely outnumbered if her henchman’s loyalty extended past the grave. 
But Eddie wasn’t having it. He remained in front, tilting his chin up. “Honestly, it was an accident, but she did try to kill us first, so—fair is fair.”
There was a moment of absolute silence before the entire army, monkeys included, let out a deafening cheer. “Hail to Steve and Eddie! The Wicked Witch is dead!”
Eddie looked back at him, jaw dropped, and Steve could only smile.
When the cacophony died down, Steve approached the first soldier who spoke, supposing he might be the leader or general or something. “The broomstick, can we have it?” 
“Yes, of course! Please, take it with you.”
After a short reunion with a certain stunned-to-see-them-still-alive guard, fresh off what must have been an epic frolic through the poppy field and subsequent mystical slumber—if the state of his very red and heavy lidded eyes was any indication—Steve, Eddie, and their companions once again entered The Wizard’s throne room.
“Why have you come back?!” The deep voice of the Wizard rumbled through the air.
“We did what you asked.” Steve said simply, holding the Witch’s charred broom above his head.
They all waited with bated breath for some kind of response, but were met with nothing. After a few long moments Eddie took the broomstick from Steve and stepped forward. 
“The Wicked Witch is dead, and uh, we brought you the broomstick.” He cleared his throat loudly, unceremoniously tossing the burnt bit of wood in the direction of the dais. “So, make with the wish granting, yeah?” 
“I’ll have to give the matter a little thought. Go away and come back tomorrow.” The voice eventually responded.
“Tomorrow?!” Eddie snapped.
Steve shook his head, hands balled into fists at his sides. “But we wanna go home now!”
“We did everything you asked!.” The Tin Woman argued.
“Yes! At least send them home! They deserve it after performing such a great public service!” The scarecrow added, staring defiantly up at the floating head. 
As the others jumped in to help argue their point, Eddie began to look around the room, searching, and beckoned Steve to follow him. They quickly found something odd tucked in a dark corner that seemed not only out of place, but frankly looked like an obvious control center of some sort hidden behind a green curtain. How hadn’t they noticed it before?
Together they crept closer, each grabbing one side of the cloth, and on a silent count of three…
“Do you dare to criticize the Great Oz? Think yourselves lucky that I'm giving you an audience tomorrow instead of twenty—” 
…Flung the curtain back to reveal a young girl, about their age, with red hair, a bowler hat, and an all around Molly Ringwald vibe.
“...years from now.” 
She swiveled in her chair as she finished her sentence, the words a strange mix of the booming voice they’d been hearing, and her actual voice coming through as her mouth got further from the contraption she was using to alter it.  
“Ah, shit.” The girl, bearing an uncanny resemblance to Robin’s almost-girlfriend Vickie, sighed as she spotted the two of them, realizing she’d been caught in the act.
The others came over to join the party just as Eddie got up in her face. “Who the hell are you?” 
She looked down, fingers playing with the hem of her top. “Would you believe… The Great and Powerful Oz?”
“What a scam! You’re a phony!” Steve shouted.
“I am, yes.” Her shoulders slumped. “These are all tricks I learned working with a magician at the State Fair.”
Eddie fumed. “You sent us on a suicide mission!”
“And I'm very sorry about that!” She said quickly, holding her hands up. ”In my defense, I didn't actually expect you to go after The Witch, I thought if I gave you an impossible task you would just give up and not come back. Then my reputation could stay intact.”
“I suppose this means no brain for The Scarecrow, or heart for me, or courage for The Lion?” The Tin Woman said. 
“You don’t need me for that, you already have all those things. Think about it, Tin Woman. Was it not for the love of your friends that you helped them to get here, and to defeat the Wicked Witch? Someone with no heart wouldn’t do that.”
The Wizard smiled, rising from her chair, facing The Lion next.
“And you, Lion. What, you think just because you’re afraid that makes you a coward? You still did it, you still stood by your friends. See, the trick isn’t to not be scared, it’s to be scared and do it anyway. That’s courage.”
The Wizard turned lastly to face The Scarecrow and audibly gasped, her face turning an incredibly bright shade of red. “You, um, you helped to argue your friend's cases well, and I-I think it’s quite clear that you have a-a brain.” She paused, swallowing hard. “A b-big gorgeous brain, with, just—so many thoughts. I… sorry I don't usually—”
She trailed off, completely flustered and unable to look away from The Scarecrow’s face. 
For a moment The Scarecrow looked equally entranced by the Wizard, but then she frowned, looking back at Steve and Eddie. “But, what about the boys? They want to go home.”
The Wizard bit her lip. “Well, I might have a way to get them there, but it would mean taking them myself, never to return.”
“Will you?” Eddie asked.
“Of course,” She said hesitantly, looking from him and Steve to The Scarecrow and shook her head. “I—of course. I used to live in Indiana too, y’know. I was working at the fair, like I said, and one morning the boss asked me to test the propane tanks in the hot air balloon. I didn’t know what I was doing but it seemed easy enough. Damn thing took off on me, and just never came down. I got caught in a wind storm and landed here in Oz, came up with this ruse about being a Wizard and, well, you get the idea.”
“Do you still have the balloon?” Steve asked.
She grinned. “How do you think we’re getting you home?”
-
Steve and Eddie finally leaving Oz turned out to be a grand spectacle, with every citizen wanting to thank them for ridding their lands of not one, but two Wicked Witches, in such a short span of time. Even Glinda had made the journey to see them off. 
The balloon was set up in the middle of the square, and as The Wizard checked and re-checked her equipment, Steve and Eddie set about saying their farewells.
They hugged The Tin Woman and The Lion, and while It was difficult to say goodbye to them, it was nothing to the way Steve felt about leaving The Scarecrow. He had his own Robin, his best friend, waiting for him back home, but he felt connected to this version of her almost as strongly. 
It didn’t help that he’d seen the way she and The Wizard had been looking at each other since the moment they’d met. 
“Alright boys, ready to go?” The Wizard asked, looking sad.
“No,” Steve answered, turning an apologetic look on Eddie. “I can’t. I can’t ask her to leave forever, not if…”
“It’s okay, Steve. I saw it too. I want to go home, but I feel terrible.”
“Maybe Glinda can help?” Steve said.
One mention of her name and suddenly The Good Witch was right beside them, as if she’d been waiting for this moment. “You don't need to be helped any longer. You've always had the power to go back to Hawkins.”
Steve blinked at her. “I have?”
“Then why didn't you tell him that before?!” The Scarecrow asked. 
“Because, Steve had a few things he needed to figure out first. Isn’t that right?”
Steve gulped, giving her wide eyes.
“I don’t get it.” The Lion said. 
The Tin Woman shushed him, patting his hand. “I’ll explain it to you later.”
Eddie tilted his head. “What does she mean, Steve?”
“Well, I-I.” Steve stammered, eyes darting between Glinda and Eddie.
The Good Witch smiled, nodding encouragingly. “If you are ready to accept the truth, those magic slippers will take you home in two seconds.”
Steve but his lip. “Eddie too?”
Glinda laughed, high and bright. “Of course, Eddie too. Now stand together, and facing each other.”
They did what she asked, and while he remained quiet, Eddie was giving him that curious look again. 
“What do I have to do, are there, like, magic words?” Steve asked.
“There are lots of magic words, Steve, but to get home you need only close your eyes, tap your heels together three times, and show the truth that is in your heart.
There was only one way Steve could think of to show the truth, so…
He took a deep breath, closed the space between him and Eddie, and crashed their lips together. His eyes fell shut as Eddie kissed back, melting into it—and as Eddie threaded gentle fingers through his hair, Steve clicked his heels together, three times.
-
“Steve?”
Eddie’s voice rolled over him out of the dark, tinged with concern. 
Steve groaned, disoriented, his neck aching from the angle it was at, and he could feel a bit of drool drying on his chin. 
“Stevie, wake up.” This time Eddie gently shook his shoulder, and Steve’s head snapped up, eyes popping open wide. He looked around wildly, confused to find that he was slumped in a chair behind the desk at Family Video—but it didn’t matter where they’d landed, he supposed, the shoes had worked, they were back!
“Did he fall asleep again?” Robin’s voice called out from directly behind, and Steve spun around so fast he knocked his chair over, which in turn knocked over a small stack of tapes.
He ignored the mess, pulling her into a tight hug. It was really her! No straw, no burlap, just a sweatshirt she’d stolen from his closet two nights ago, with her work vest over the top. 
She shook her head like he was an idiot, but hugged him back anyway before letting go to set the chair back on its legs. “I was only in the back rewinding returns for half an hour!”
“Oh,” Steve breathed, finally registering what she’d first said, and felt suddenly lost. He could have sworn it was real, but Robin wasn’t freaking out the way he knew she would have if he’d disappeared for an entire night and day…
Or was it two? 
The more he thought about it the less sure he was of how long he and Eddie had been stuck in that colorful other dimension. 
If—if he had been stuck in another dimension. 
Robin said he’d been asleep, and he was just slumped in his chair at the desk at the end of his shift, and there Eddie was, right in front of him looking amused, if a little worried, and… and wearing a completely different shirt than he’d had on as they trekked through—
Oh.
Eddie, who was here to pick him up for their hang out because Robin was borrowing his car.
Steve groaned again, rubbed his temples. “I had such a weird dream.” 
“Was it a nightmare?” Robin asked.
It was a fair question, and something they all experienced from time to time even this many months out from their final dealings with the Upside Down. But this…this had been something wholly different.
“I’m not sure.” He settled on, yawning as he fought to think through the fog that was slowly lifting from his brain. Had it really all been in his head? A dream, a fantasy?
“Some of it wasn't very nice, but—” He glanced at Eddie again and felt a blush spread over his face. “Most of it was beautiful.”
“You were there.” Steve continued, giving the other boy a little nod. Eddie’s lips twitched into a crooked smile. 
Steve turned to Robin next.  “You were too—and Nancy, and Jonathan, and Argyle, and—” he trailed off, trying to remember everyone else he’d encountered along the way.
Eddie chuckled. “Did Robin make you watch The Wizard of Oz on repeat again?”
Steve froze.
Oz, yellow brick road, Munchkins…
He was such an idiot.
“It was slow this morning!” Robin lashed out, defensively. And you know I’m seeing Vickie tonight, I needed my comfort movie to settle my nerves!”
“Yes, I am well aware of your impending date, Buckley, hence me and my van being here to play chauffeur.”
Steve checked the time, he still had about fifteen minutes until he could officially lock up and clock out. “You’re early.”
Eddie shrugged. “I still have to pick us a movie for tonight. You go do your closing duties, or whatever, I'll be perusing the stacks.” 
Steve couldn’t tear his eyes away as Eddie walked off. He could still remember the other boy’s fingers pushing into his hair, gently cradling his head as they’d kissed—how his lips had felt so incredibly soft.
He wondered if it would be the same in real life.
“Steve… did you OD over there?” 
Steve startled as, once again, Robin's voice came from directly behind him, though much softer this time. He took her hand, pulling her to the other side of the room. 
“Do you remember that thing we talked about?”
She scrunched her nose. “Which thing?”
Steve sighed, speaking low. “You know, the… how some people go both ways, thing?”
She gasped, grabbing his arm, and looked back over her shoulder to where Eddie was still browsing, before whispering, “Do you mean…?”
Steve nodded, unable to stop his mouth from spreading into a wide grin.
“Are you gonna tell him tonight?!”
“Yeah, I think so.” Steve bit his lip. “Well, that, or maybe just stick my tongue down his throat the second we’re alone.”
Robin snorted. “And they say romance is dead.” 
“Okay smart-ass, how do you think I should go about it?”
“I think—it doesn’t matter what you say or do, because that boy is just as crazy about you as you are about him.”
“I hope so.” Steve looked down, wringing his hands. “I really like him. I-I might even–” He trailed off, too afraid to finish the thought even though he knew it was the truth.
“I know, dingus.”
At the other end of the store, tape in hand, Eddie began to make his way to the counter.
Robin gave Steve a little push towards the break room door. “You go splash some water on your face and change. I'll get your man checked out.”
“Not mine yet.”
“He will be. I’m proud of you, Steve.”
“Thanks, Robbie.”
As much as he’d joked to Robin about just going for it, Steve spent the whole drive to the new Munson trailer trying to compose the perfect speech to tell Eddie how he felt, but by the time they arrived he had nothing to show for his efforts but sweaty palms and anxiety.
Should he have just reached over the center console, taken Eddie’s hand, and hoped he got the hint? Maybe he shouldn’t make such a big deal out of it. No, no. Steve was supposed to be good at this! Eddie deserved more, he deserved the perfect moment. 
“You, uh, planning on coming inside?”
Steve sucked in a breath, snapping to attention, and realized Eddie had already gotten out of the van and come around to open the passenger door.
“Sorry.” Steve’s face grew hot as he climbed out of the van. “Guess I'm still feeling a little out of it from falling asleep earlier.”
Eddie frowned, reaching up to feel Steve’s forehead with the back of his hand. 
“Are you sure that’s all? You do feel a little warm.”
“I’m fine.” Steve ducked his head, throwing off the touch, though what he really wanted was to lean into it, and followed Eddie inside.
Eddie went right for the kitchen, throwing the bag from Family Video bag on the counter before diving into the fridge, digging out two beers.
Steve tried hard not to stare as Eddie bent over, reaching for the bag for something to do instead, and pulled the single tape out, flipping it over to the cover. 
“Seriously? Return to Oz?”
Eddie turned, grinning as he took a sip from his own bottle, sliding the other one towards him. “Come on, that's funny!” 
Steve huffed a laugh and tossed the tape back onto the counter.
“And, y’know… it’s a good movie.” Eddie went on, grin slipping a little as he set his beer down and rubbed the back of his neck, looking away—looking nervous, Steve realized. He realized something else too—there was never going to be a perfect time, or a perfect way to say what was in his heart. He knew how he felt, and he was pretty sure he knew how Eddie felt now too, or at least his subconscious did. Now he just needed to take that leap of faith.
“I know you don’t really like all the horror stuff me and the kids usually make you watch, and since it’s just the two of us I figured—” 
In the middle of Eddie’s adorably flustered ramble Steve stepped around the kitchen counter, took the other boy’s face gently between his hands, and crushed their mouths together.
Eddie went very still under his touch and Steve quickly pulled back, panicked for a moment that he had it all wrong, until Eddie wound his arms around him, gripping the back of his shirt as he pressed him into the counter, and suddenly Steve was the one being kissed.  
And what a kiss it was.
At the first brush of tongue Steve smiled into it, unable to contain his joy because Eddie had kissed him back! 
When they finally pulled apart again, Eddie blinked hard, looking dazed. “Shit, Steve, am I–am I dreaming right now?”
“God I hope not.” Steve went right back in, winding his hands into Eddie’s hair as their lips met again and again, their bottles of beer forgotten, left to grow warm on the counter. 
-
Later that night, when the movie was over—not that they’d seen much of it—after they’d actually talked and made their relationship official, and made out so much that Steve’s lips were sore, they curled up in Eddie’s bed together. 
As he burrowed deeper into Eddie’s side, and Eddie wrapped his arms around him even tighter, Steve let out a contented sigh. 
Dorothy had it right—there really is no place like home.
Thanks again to @pearynice and @hitlikehammers for all your help with this!
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bigball-thefrog · 3 days
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The Mighty Sand Dragon And The Maiden:Crocodile X Reader pt3
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______________________________
Pt1 Pt2
The third and final part of the dragon Crocodile series. This was probably one of my favorite things to write. I hope everyone enjoys it and I'll be back again next week
Warnings/Tags:
Fluff
Mentions of blood and injuries
Mentions of cauterization
Fantasy AU
______________________________
Reader POV
It had been a year since I first fought Crocodile and I have been training hard to finally take him down. I have been thinking about our previous fights to try and think of what his weakness could be and I think I might have figured it out. It must be water! Because of his powers as the sand dragon, he can turn into sand, and water makes sand clump together and makes it harder for the sand to move around so freely like it does when the wind blows! It must be he weakness as well. So for my journey I packed my usual supplies but this time I also kept a secret bottle of water under my clothes so I could catch him off guard.
I made it to the entrance of his cave and put my bags down, gripping my sword and keeping the bottle of water strapped to my leg I walked closer. I was about to call out for him when I heard sounds of a struggle coming from inside the cave. I put away my sword and walked inside. Not too far from the entrance I saw Crocodile on the ground, bloodied and bruised, and a knight standing in front of him. I walked closer and spoke up, "What the hell are you doing?!" I shouted at the knight. He was startled with my sudden presence behind him but spoke, "Ah, young maiden. I am just slaying this dragon that has put you under his spell!" "Spell?! What spell??" "Oh, you poor thing. Everyone in town has noticed your disappearances every couple of months and everyone has noticed that you always leave in the direction of the Sand Dragons cave. So you must've been put under his evil spell and for he past year, have been forced to do his evil bidding!" "BULLSHIT!!! I'VE BEEN COMING HERE TO DEFEAT THE DRAGON MYSELF BECAUSE I WANT TO CHANGE MY OWN DESTINY OF BEING A POOR HELPLESS MAIDEN!!!" The knight was shocked at my reason for coming here. He then started laughing right in my face, "That is hilarious! See, you are clearly under the dragons spell, no maiden has the strength to defeat a dragon!~ Worry not maiden, I shall defeat the dragon and escorts you back home safely, maybe you can even reward this handsome knight by being my little bride~" The knight winked at me and held up his sword to deliver the final blow to Crocodile. Quickly taking out my sword, I got in front of him and blocked his attack. The knight looked shocked again and became frustrated, "Stand down maiden, stop defending this evil creature and let me kill it!" "No! This is my destiny and I am not going to let you take it away from me!" "This behavior is traitorous! I'll have you executed with this dragon!"
Crocodile POV:
I layed on the ground, holding my wounds as I watched the maiden take on the knight. They are a brave one for risking being a traitor to their kingdom just to kill me. Something in me felt uneasy seeing them in a serious battle this time, all the times I fought them I just did it to amuse myself, but now this was an actual battle, one that could end in their death. I didn't like the fact they could die but the pain from my own injuries prevented me from getting up and helping. But then that damm knight raised his sword and slashed them across the face, and that made me see red...
Seeing the maiden fall to the ground and crying out as they held their bleeding face gave me a burst of rage fueld adrenaline, I got up and growled. Sand surrounded me and I transformed back into my dragon form. Once the sand disappeared I roared loudly and caused the ground to shake, the knight fell and looked up at me in fear. He didn't even have time to gain his confidence back before I stood on him and crushed the lower half of his body. He screamed in pain but I didn't move, I began to use my powers to suck every last drop of moisture out of his body. His body slowly began to shrivel up, all the moisture in his body gone like rain on the dessert sand. Within a matter of seconds his body was nothing but a husk and armor, I stood over him and this time I completely crushed him, when I moved my hand there was nothing but dust, I bent down and huffed and the knight was gone...
I looked back at the maiden, still bleeding and my face softened a little and I turned to them. I transformed back to my human form and knelt down next to them, I used my hand to hold them up and wiped their little tears away with my thumb. I looked down at the injury and smirked a little, a scar right across the face, just like mine.... Hearing their soft cries of pain snapped me out of my thoughts and made me start to think of how I could help, I looked at my hook and got an idea. I brought the hook up to my face and gently began to blow fire on it to heat it up. Once it was red I looked back at the maiden, "I'm gonna help, but it's going to hurt like hell, do you promise to try and keep still while I stop the bleeding?" the maiden nodded and gripped onto my arm for support. I carefully placed the tip of the red hot hook on the cut and started to cauterize the cut. They screamed and cried more but thankfully didn't move much as I continued to stop the bleeding. I managed to stop the bleeding on her face and removed the hook. They stopped crying and was just breathing heavily now. Seeing them no longer injured I let out a sigh of exaust and collapsed next to them.
Reader POV
My eyes widened when I saw Crocodile collapse next to me, they look exhausted and were still injured as well, if he didn't receive any medical attention soon he might die. Remembering my supplies I brought I quickly ran out the cave to grab my bag. I kneeled back down next to him and got out all the medical supplies I brought. I took the water bottle out from under my clothes and used a towel to clean him, ironic that I brought this extra water to kill him and am now using it to save his life. After cleaning him I took out a needle and thread, disinfecting ointment and began stitching up what I could. He grunted, feeling the needle piercing his skin and looked up at me, "What on earth are you doing? Isn't this what you wanted? For me to die.." "Well yes but I wanted to kill you myself remember? I didn't want some stupid knight to do it... So I'm saving you know so I can kill you properly later.." He chuckled and leaned his head back to try and relax while I stitched him up. "Thank you... For rescuing me from that knight." "No problem. He had no right to injure a maiden such as yourself.." I smiled a little and spoke again, "Kind of ironic that it was the dragon that saved me and not the knight." we both chuckled and went quiet again. After patching him up he sat up again and we just stared at each other, eventually I got the courage to ask a question I've always wanted to ask, "Why is it that dragons always kidnap maidens? And they usually come back unharmed, even after days of being with the dragon, why is that?" Crocodile pondered for a second then sighed, "Truthfully, we're lonely. Creatures are scared of us in our dragon form, and in our human form we're still fear because of the wings and tail. Other dragons are assholes and we don't get along with each other.. We're usually just looking for a companion that won't leave us... That's why we go after maidens because they're usually described as kind and loving creatures..." my heart went soft and I got closer to him, "How come you haven't taken a maiden? Aren't you lonely?" He scowled, "I don't need a companion. I've learned to not let people come close to my heart..." I frowned and looked down, "How about I stay with you?" He looked at me confused and was about to say something but I cut him off, "I stay here and train to fight you and you don't have to worry about getting close to someone because you already have a heads up that we're going to fight. That way you know not to get attached and you have some company!" Crocodile looked at me still skeptical so I added in, "Also, if I go back home without the knight, I'll probably be executed so you're stuck with me." He rolled his eyes and sighed before muttering out, "fine..." I raised my hand to shake his and he gripped my hand tightly and shook it, "You have now officially been taken by the dragon, it is now your duty to set yourself free from my clutches or else you'll be mine for the rest of your life, deal?" He asked. I nodded, "Deal!"
And so started my new life with the dragon I was going to kill..
______________________________
I'll post next week and to those that have made requests I'll get you next week probably but I promise you I will write your request and post it, it just may be a week or two before I get to it. I love you all and see you next week
Kelly🐸
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synthwayve · 1 month
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Thinks about Micolash and Laurence’s rivalry that never strays from the confines of academic snark or the occasional jab despite their shared ambition(and possibly also just accompanying a general friendship they could have had since they worked together at some point. Idk I’m a softie. Sue me.) eventually involving into a full on intellectual divorce. Cries. Explodes. 72 casualties.
#will delete#I am just having thoughts#like yeah listen I love the toxic aspects of their dynamic especially peak healing church#and I’m honestly shocked most people put Micolash in the seat of power there#if anything I think he’d be underhanded with having dirt on Laurence’s operation or his reputation#but yknow. headcanons vary#consider: they could have been soft once. they could have been#and they could have stopped each other’s descent into their respective cosmic obsession(blood and insight)#but neither can actually let the other have his way. if Micolash abandons his research and just does whatever Laurence commands him to#he’ll never be able to pursue his own interest(which could even stave off the scourge). it’d be Byrgenwerth all over#but if Laurence lets Micolash go and just do whatever his silly heart desires#not only will he legit go insane but itd happen at the worst of times. he needs to priortize the blood while they still have time#so they both just. stalemate each other to death#yadda yadda insufferable academics believing only their method must be correct to the detriment of the other#not in a ‘I personally hate you’ way but in a ‘why won’t you just listen to me’ way#I just think there’s fun to be had there. they’re both horrible.#also idk this is being prompted by Laurence being typecast into being completely helpless at the height of his power. against MICOLASH???#let’s let him be a little evil too come on now#but idk. maybe my take is wack
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HAPPY 16TH BIRTHDAY!!! To this elderly bapy boye!!! he...!!!
#cats#ghhbbb this is the first time I've genuinely considered tumblr blazing a post lol but no.. i shant.. I feel too weird putting financial#information into tumblr or whatever unless I made like a seperate bank account or something not associated with anyhting else lol#but I gave it serious contemplation which is really sayng something (the evil magical spell that all cats cast over u by their perfection)#ANYWAY.................... old man!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#it's technically like march 8th but I did his party a little early. I have other pictures to post later maybe too..hrmm#The '1' candle is actually a '4' candle with the side part cut off because they didn't have any 1s#I went all out (like under $15 still lol) and got new birthday decorations for him instead of using the same old#ones from the past like 5 birthdays that I've done for the cats lol..#His theme was rainbows mostly in as light of colors as I could find#The legal age to drive a car in the US is 16 so.... honk honk beep beep.. I shall go out and buy him the most expensive car on the market#as soon as March 8th comes. then he can run little errands (probably mostly getting kibbles or chicken somewhere)#stealing the rotisserie chickens from walmart or something lol#AND they would let him have them. He would drive up and walk inside and they'd call the manager to come over#and they would be so moved by his presence and his big goofy stare that they would just be like..... okey.. have all the chicken in the#entire store. Actually. have the store. it's yours now. And This would continue all the way up the chain until he was handed#the entire walmart company. And every other company. a boy who owns everything. probably wouldnt use it for evil. he'd just abolish#everything and then focus on eating chickens.. ........ chibken son...
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prettycoolducks · 1 year
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Fav father daughter duo ✨️❄️
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ineed-to-sleep · 5 months
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ENDING SPOILERS FOR BG3 AHEAD
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Hate that I found this scene kinda hot
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widevibratobitch · 8 months
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i hate them with a passion
#this may turn into one of my long ass posts with hundreds of screenshots of quotes from the books#but i dont have the energy for that just now#anyway. this moment makes me wanna throw shit at the walls. their relationship is my favourite thing from the very beginning#but dumas went really went out of his way to make it even more insane in the last book#and dont hit me with a 'aww they have such a big/little brother energy its so cute uwu' please im begging you stop saying that#nothing irks me more than hearing their relationship described as something that innocent. its so much more complex and intense come on#there is pure visceral hate there. jealousy. bile. cruelty. some fucked up form of codependency even? maybe? from d'artagnan's side?#there's nothing more horrible and cruel than the fact that THEY are the only two left alive in the end (not for long but yknow)#they would NEVER be friends if not for athos (and they would never hate each other so much if not for him too)#they hate each other so so much. but remember that d'artagnan starts out being absolutely bedazzled by aramis and looking up to him#his first impression of aramis is just. hearteyes and 'wow i wish that were me'. he doesnt do that even with athos at first.#he grows to adore athos yes but upon first meeting him he doesnt think much of him. unlike with aramis.#and then it changes instantly. does a 180° flip when aramis is a bitch to him.#and it stays that way for the entirety of the trilogy. until this moment. this one short moment when d'artagnan#who. mind you. is not innocent himself and was also manipulating the hell out of porthos and talking shit about aramis behind his back.#but he makes that step. he reaches out. 'i fucking hate you let me help you you dumb evil cunt' and aramis says 'no <3'#you know i have this thing where i am OBSESSED with finding the one moment where a character condemns themselves for good.#the one moment when they figuratively sign the contract for their perdition. that up to that moment they could still be saved somehow.#for rodrigo it is when he tries to kill eboli (in the play). for don giovanni it is when he refuses elvira's plea to change#(NOT when he accepts il commendatore's invite mind you)#and i feel like THIS is that moment for aramis.#the fact that it comes from d'artagnan is so just so fucking agsjssgsgsh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and of course he says no.#there is no version of this where he lets himself be helped. he has to say no he will always say no.#but boy oh boy is this making me bang my head against the wall.#the three musketeers#les trois mousquetaires#vicomte de bragelonne#alexandre dumas
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arundolyn · 2 years
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this is relevant to nothing, but i just want the world to know that i once had a dream where uni got a full english dub with the returning va’s from bbtag + new va’s for the characters that weren’t in bbtag. words cannot describe the disappointment i felt when i woke up and realized it was a dream.
i would have straight up died of mental anguish psychic damage and heartbreak honestly
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homunculus-argument · 4 months
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Character idea that I had at some point: A dance teacher who had to give up his own highly promising career as a performer after an injury, and now makes his living giving lessons to children. He comes off as stern, serious, and frighteningly strict, and even some of the parents have a hard time believing that the kids genuinely like him and enjoy the lessons. Which, to be fair, are frightening to watch with no context of what this is about.
The children go through their practices with downright eerie, automation-like, coordinated synchrony, with stern and focused looks on their faces, while the teacher circles them, observing and correcting, brandishing his cane like a weapon and every once in a while dramatically lamenting about how "you little vermin can't do anything right", and occasionally the music stops and the only sounds coming from the studio are of kids running and screaming while their teacher bellows about teaching them a lesson.
This, however, is all just method. He started the first lesson with the children by proposing a game: How about they play flea circus, where he is the cruel evil ringmaster and they are all his poor suffering little fleas. One of the girls starts crying, protesting that she doesn't want to be a flea. Well, how about mice? Mice are cute. The children accept these terms, and ever since they've spent dance lessons playing Evil Circus.
For reasons beyond adult comprehension, children of a certain age really love playing pretend in a setting where everything is Dark And Horrible And The Worst, and Evil Mouse Circus is exactly that. And whenever he picks up that the kids are starting to get too genuinely nervous or agitated, that's when he goes "that's it I'm going to beat all of you" which is their cue to take a break to run around screaming, while he chases them. He won't catch them and isn't even trying to, the kids just need to let the nervous energy out.
It looks horrible to an outside observer, but the kids are having an excellent time playing circus mice.
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chososlilprincess · 4 months
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Higuruma Hiromi x reader<3 (nsfw)
hiromi likes girls (his gf) who are a little (very) mean to him. CANON I ASKED GEGE.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Higuruma stands in the doorway of your bedroom, Hes been staring at you for a good while now, even before you noticed.
Looking at how your little dress hugs your pretty body.
you wave a hand infront of his face.
“whats up with you today…freak,” you say and laugh at him, the corner of his mouth tugs a little before going back to his usual, blank face.
“i cant look at whats mine? hm?” he says smoothly and plays with a strand of your hair.
“urgh,” you roll your eyes and turn away from him. You know he loves it, when you act like a little spoiled princess.
he grabs your arm and pull you back to him softly. He looks into your eyes again, something else than adoration behind them this time.
“hirom-“
“i thought about what you said,”
huh?
you look at him in question.
He smirks a little before speaking, “you know….about my nose,”
A couple days ago he’d told you how he used to hate his nose when he was younger. You’d frowned and taken his face in your pretty manicured hands and told him it was one of your favorite things about his appearance. It had made his heart swell in his chest, and he’d hugged you so tight right after telling you to ‘shut up and stop lying’
And he’d thought about it ever since, couldnt get it out of his head. And now he knew why.
He takes your jaw in his huge hand and brings your face up to look at him,
“if you like my nose so much, why dont you sit on it princess?” he tells you, looking into your eyes and pulling you closer by your waist.
Your eyes widen, and you blush while trying to push him away.
“stop saying things like that,” you look away from his eyes and he frowns.
“look at me baby,”
You reluctantly look at him again, the way he looks at you hungrily makes you ache.
“you telling me you dont want to?” He whispers to you, and you know he would drop it as soon as you say the word.
But you stay silent, looking away from him again. And he knows youre too shy to say it. so innocent. He wants to make you cry and shake on top of him.
He sighs and goes to pull away from you, but before he can get too far you grab him by the collar, nodding your head.
“yeah?” he asks. you nod again.
he smiles widely at you, before licking his lips and speaking,
“take this off,” he says as he plays with the hem of your dress.
His eyes scan over your body while you undress, his mouth watering. And when you finally stand infront of him, looking up at him with your pretty eyes, only wearing your panties, He picks you up by your thighs suddenly, And you yelp in surprise. He takes you to the bed, laying down with you now sitting on his chest.
You stare at eachother for a while before he speaks again,
“come on….wanna drown in your little pussy,”
Hes so nasty.
“dont worry you will, im gonna shut you up for once,” you say with a look of distaste, he knows your body is betraying you, with how big the wet spot on your panties has gotten.
you sit up on your knees, sliding down your underwear slowly, teasing him.
“mmm there she is,” he groans when he sees your pussy, slick with your arousal.
“youre so annoying,”
“sit on my face baby,”
you huff and sit down again on his chest, grinding your naked pussy on him. He groans loudly.
“fuck….you want me to beg? is that it sweetheart? hm?”
He breathes heavily, a desperate look on his face, and his hips buck behind you, trying to relieve himself a little.
You nod and wait for him, and when he opens his mouth to speak, reaching out to touch your waist, you slap his hand away.
“no touching,” you say with a serious face.
he almost cries. “evil…evil little girl,” fuck why wont you just let him have you, but he knows that you know he loves this. loves his pretty girlfriend being mean to him.
you take pity on him, you tell yourself, when you sit up on your knees, moving so that your pussy is hovering over his face. But really you know you cant wait anymore, you need to ride his handsome face.
“fuck yes…please baby, sit,” He groans under you.
you place yourself right on his mouth, his nose grazing your clit. He moans loudly into you, his hand going to rub himself so he doesnt loose his mind.
He rubs his face into you, licking and sucking on your cunt. You mewl and cry over him and he looks up at you, Smirking into your pussy.
You grab his hair then, grinding yourself down on him, riding his nose.
He babbles under you, probably filthy things. But his mouth is full, so all you hear is his muffled voice speaking into your soaked pussy.
He loves when you use him like this, and the way you look on top of him, fucking his face, its too much and not enough at the same time.
“fuck…use me princess,” He manages to get out in between eating you “cum on my face…”
You whine.
“fuck….” You shake and cry over him, cumming all over his drooling mouth. He keeps licking at you, trying to get every drop of cum. He groans, pulling away from you.
He looks so fucked out, his whole face is wet and his hair is messy, a dopey smile on his face.
You almost pass out, falling off him and onto the bed. He smiles and goes to lay on top of you, cradling your face in his hands.
“i need to change my boxers,” he says.
“of course you do,”
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
IDK IF I LIKE THIS UM. anyways i hope u guys like it atleast >_<
i havent gotten to his intruduction in the manga yet i know nothing about this man except for that hes a lawyer and hes sexy
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wordsinhaled · 9 months
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i’m so totally normal about the fact that aziraphale’s last (known) deliberate foray into the queer community was when he learned the gavotte at the fictionalized hundred guineas club (!!!) in the 1800s and now in the 2020s he’s like “grindr? what’s that?”
many are talking about his repression which is very valid… and yet the thing to me that stands out about aziraphale is that he’s actually… incredibly stable in his identity and that identity IS incredibly queer. queer by the standards of heaven AND by human standards as well
metatron describes his “de facto partnership” with crowley as “irregular.” and in fact aziraphale in his entirety is irregular. he likes and makes it his business not only to understand but to be a connoisseur of all manner of things angels aren’t supposed to even remotely care about. food. music. books. theatre. sleight of hand. and more.
it’s the sort of behavior that would’ve gotten him othered, treated as a bit odd, in heaven even if he hadn’t chosen to consort all across the earth with a literal demon. and it IS treated that way - the fact is aziraphale even as an angel has got proclivities that set him apart from the rest of the host (even after offering him the highest position in heaven, metatron still acts deeply dismissive of him… like aziraphale’s bookshop is merely a quaint little hobby of his that can be easily transferred to another custodian, and not a literal extension of who aziraphale has become, full of his tartan and unique bibles and special vintages of wine and the books arranged in a very specific way)
so. aziraphale is a queer angel but of course he’s also queer to other humans. but in such a way that… he had his realization a LONG time ago, and put the matter very much to rest after that. aziraphale is perpetually something like several centuries behind schedule. he owns an ancient computer that probably continues to run windows 98 simply because aziraphale’s decided it should. he wears the same waistcoat and coat for generations because he simply likes them precisely the way they are and sees no reason to change them. but the idea that he doesn’t know how he comes across to others - of course he does. he knows he looks like your prim and proper grandfather and he prefers it that way
aziraphale looked around at humans in the 1880s and said: ah yes. this is where i fit. and promptly ensconced himself in that queer subculture. learned the gavotte. read his austen. loved crowley from afar. aziraphale is fiercely and vibrantly queer. just with the sort of assurance of someone who lives with his lover in a commonlaw marriage for decades and then shows up at city hall for the certificate once society decides it’s ‘allowed.’ like… he hasn’t had any need to know what grindr is because aziraphale’s ‘scene’ was a century and a half ago and it defined romance for him too.
but my favorite thing about aziraphale is how much of him is about appearances versus the truth. he can lie straight to angels’ faces and sleep at night. he knows he comes off soft but he once wielded a flaming sword. he dissembles helplessness but he’s far from it and he knows precisely how it makes others treat him. and at the core of aziraphale is rigidity, inflexibility of ideas… his sense of self is stable where crowley’s is malleable, and so on, and so on
and the fact that he’s continuously fixated on trying to misguidedly do the right thing, the fact that he seeks heavenly approval and wants to fit the world into his schema of good vs evil… in no way do i think that means he isn’t one hundred percent aware of how he feels about crowley or what it means about him by angelic or human standards. i’ve seen some folks saying that aziraphale doesn’t want to like kissing crowley and like… as much as i love me some brideshead revisited/atonement flavored angst; i put forth that it’s not internalized homophobia or queer panic but simply: “i’m trying to do the right thing for both of us and you won’t let me.” and “i wanted our first kiss to be different.” he was envisioning an entirely different flavor of romance than what he got but he emma woodhoused too close to the sun
like, y’all. aziraphale in all likelihood has a glorious collection of historical queer erotica. he just has a feathery diva coat hanging in his closet, and for what. “oh, good lord” he says at crowley’s revolutionary outfit in the bastille, while eyeing him up like an entire meal. he’s so good at affected propriety, at carefully constructed stuffiness, but between the two of them aziraphale’s got to be the one who has experience
aziraphale had been physically throwing himself at crowley the entire season. he orchestrated an entire regency ball so they could touch hand to hand. he spends the entire season (well, and season 1) looking at crowley like he’s particularly coveted. he looked at crowley before the fall like he was glorious and beautiful. aziraphale’s queer and he knows it and i think that isn’t his problem, it’s the fact that he wants to build a different sort of future for the two of them but crowley’s gone and thrown a wrench in it by reminding him of everything he can finally have. like. that’s the heartbreak. it’s how dare you make this ugly? i forgive you for our first kiss being all pain and salt. it’s my dearest, i wanted to make heaven as beautiful as you deserve. as sacred and safe for us as our bookshop. and i can do that for us, because once i held a flaming sword and i still remember how the hilt felt in my hands. and now the taste of you is in my mouth.
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jongseongsnudes · 6 months
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pretty
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bff!jake. 1.6k. smut ft. roommate!jay.
“i- wh- what the actual fuck?”
“i said what i said, let me suck you.”
“you’ve lost it,” the startled man leans away from you, his face contorted from your sudden suggestion, “all that studying finally broke you.”
“god jake,” you roll your eyes and lean forward, almost closing the gap between your bodies entirely, “why are you making it more complicated than it needs to be? i just need to suck your dick for like a minute.”
the poor man’s expression is one that has you immediately in a fit of laughter, confusion, disgust with a hint of arousal, all displayed across his face at the same time.
yes, it was a weird request to make towards your best friend but it’s not like you haven’t done it before. and for some unexplainable, wild reason, sucking his dick always calmed you. especially in times when you were stressed over your head about classes.
like right now.
“who asks their bestfriend shit like this like it’s the most normal thing to do?”
“for the last time. sim jaeyun will you let me suck you off?” you get up from the bed as you say so, arms folded, your tone more of a threat than a question, “you do realise jay is next door, and i’m pretty sure he’d be more than willing to let me suck-”
“okay okay! for fucks sakes suck me then! no need to bring out the government name.”
your hand is already at his thigh before he could even finish his sentence, immediately palming him through his sweat pants. with an accomplished grin on your face, you kneel down in between his spreaded legs on the floor, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. it’s something you know for a fact jake likes you doing, giving him that full attention, like he’s the only thing that mattered to you in the moment.
“fuck- why do you do this shit to me?” he whispers, his voice much lower than before. he watches you through lidded eyes, his gaze entirely on your new submissive position in front of him, “you’re so evil.”
“and you love it, jake.”
the way his dick twitches in your hand to the call of his name only excites you more, further pushing you to get a move on. so you do just that, pulling off his pants and boxers down to his ankles in one quick motion before grabbing onto his member.
the man’s deep groans instantly fill the room as you begin to jerk him painfully slow, your evil self enjoying the situation a little too much. you can’t help but pout when you notice the way his clutch on the bedsheets tightens because it should be your hair he’s gripping. not the damn bedsheets.
“c- come on don’t tease.”
“i don’t know what you’re talking about...” lies. you knew exactly what you were doing, and to make things worse for him, you decide to lean in closer to his leaking tip. but obviously not close enough.
the frustrated sigh that emits from his throat is hard to miss, the sound making you chuckle a little to yourself.
he’s so desperate for you, just like how you wanted him to be.
“you’re so hard jake... look at you.”
“i swear to god- oh shit!”
your lips pressing onto his tip is enough to have him in a puddle, his words no longer coherent. it makes you feel good to be able to make jake turn into such a mess, without having to do much at all.
“you enjoy doing this to me don’t you?” there’s a sudden change in his eyes, his gaze dark and serious as he reaches out to grab the back of your neck, holding you still in place to look at him, “you’re such a brat.”
if there’s one thing you’ve learnt about jake over the years, is that the man is a big softie when it comes to you, always letting you have your way no matter how ridiculous it is.
but the only times jake will not let you have your way are times like these. it’s as if something switches in him, going from soft to dominant all in two seconds when you push the right buttons.
when you were bratty.
and god was this jake hot.
“jake...”
“you were all talk before,” he taunts, a smirk forming on the end of his lips, “go on. show me what that mouth can do besides shit talk.”
and you didn’t need to be asked twice, especially not by jake sim.
your mouth quickly wraps around his hard on, barely managing to take half of it before you can feel it hit the back of your throat. although you’ve done this numerous times before, jake’s size always managed to surprise you.
no more words are needed, the room now filled with his grunts and the sound of you slobbering all over his dick. you know you should be embarrassed by your noises, but you’re not, your only goal now was to please the man.
often enough, you’d imagine how good it’d feel to have him fuck you with it. making you feel good, making you cum.
it was so wrong to have such fantasies about your best friend but every time you’re in bed with your hands down your pants, there’s no one else you’d rather think of but jake sim.
tears begin to form in the corners of your eyes as you continue moving your head, sucking on his length like your life depended on it. hard and fast, edging the man closer and closer towards his release.
his tightened grip on the back of your neck tells you that he’s close. so you do what you do best, grabbing onto his base with both your hands, stroking it in sync with your mouth.
“f- fuck- i’m gonna-” he mumbles while trying to pull your head away but you don’t budge, hinting for him continue on. and he does just that, finishing deep in your mouth, his cum slowly dripping out the corners of your lips as you pull away.
he tastes bitter, the vast amount a little hard to swallow but you manage nonetheless. the sight of you struggling has the man smirking, obviously loving the way you look with his mess dripping down onto your top.
“you look so pretty like this.”
“pretty only like this? wow you’re such a gentleman sim.”
“no,” he chuckles before pulling you up, your body slightly falling onto his at the force. his arms are quick to stable you, literally manhandling you to straddle over his lap in which you were more than happy to do, “you’re always pretty. the prettiest.”
your heart unknowingly skips a beat to his sudden compliment, as if you didn’t just suck him off and as if there wasn’t a massive cum stain on your top. you knew jake had a way with his words when it came to the ladies but this? this wasn’t what you were expecting him to say, not to you, his best friend.
“what?” he laughs, his hands already at the ends of your top, hastily pulling it over without hesitation, “where did that bratty mouth of yours go?”
“jake...” you whimper at the coldness hitting your skin, the sensation making you hard inside your bra.
“shit. you’re perfect.”
he yanks on your hair as he says so, pulling your head back so he could attack the exposed skin on your neck. you’re already a moaning mess at this point, the feeling of his lips on your sensitivity, one that has you seeing white all over.
“you don’t like it when i’m nice but prefer it when i’m like this?” his grip in your hair tightens more, making you whimper out in surprise, much to his liking. you could feel him smiling into your skin, as if pleased by your reaction to his actions.
the man is being rough and as sick as it was, you were enjoying every second of it.
“you even sound pretty, i wonder what you’d sound like if i were to fuck you,” jake’s voice is one you’ve never heard from him before, raspy and deep. even deeper than his morning voice, which you’ve always found so fucking hot already.
“do you want me to fuck you?”
“god yes jake, please.”
you never understood why you and jake hadn’t fucked yet. you’ve sucked his dick, given him handjobs and he has fingered you here and there. but that’s all it ever got to. despite the oh-so-obvious sexual tension that always followed you both aound, you two just didn't fuck.
“as much as i want to hear you, you have to try to be quiet tonight,” his lips makes its way towards yours, leaving behind a trail of gentle kisses on your skin, “jay is next door-”
“maybe you should’ve thought of that 30 minutes ago, when i was sleeping. too late now.”
and to your horror, there standing at jake’s opened door is his handsome roommate jay who looked like he was about to burn the apartment down with his glare alone. the man’s unkempt hair and boxers-only outfit tells you perhaps he had been sleeping, which made you feel awful for being so loud just now.
but despite his glares, you noticed one other thing. it’s that he’s looking directly at you, at your barely covered chest, like he had been the entire time he was standing there.
fuck.
end.
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finniestoncrane · 14 days
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Ain't So Bad
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 1.1k i want this man to do horrible things to me, i want him to tell me he'll make sure i'm ok when i know full well he's the most dangerous thing around, he's driving me INSANE anyway i'll have a softer thing for him soon!! 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: dubcon/noncon, restraints, use of 'no' but reader is quick to do as told, restraints, slight threat, gun mention, hair pulling
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The sun had thankfully almost set, the long shadows cast by it a welcome relief, though it did mean that night was coming, along with the threats that were its constant companion. But you always assumed you were safe, travelling with your own companion. Especially when that companion was Cooper Howard. Charming, despite his foul attitude that put most people off. Handsome, at least to you, and much to the disappointment of the more ‘reserved’ folks you came across out in the wasteland. And you felt lucky, most of the time, to consider him yours. But you suspected that, while he kept the danger away, that there was a reason for that.
Even predators had something they were afraid of. There was always a greater evil.
And as the darkness fell, his silhouette lit only by the small fire in the corner of the roofless room, you began to realise that Cooper was a lot more dangerous than you had let yourself come to terms with.
“Cooper, wait… we’re not safe enough, I don’t…”
You trailed off, aware that your words were falling on deaf ears as Cooper dragged his dry lips across your cheek, grazing his teeth against the skin as you felt him pushing you backwards, your spine straightening against the crumbling wall behind you.
“It ain’t so bad out here… certainly won’t be when you see what I’ve got in store for you.”
“Please, Cooper… no, Coop, I can’t-”
Interrupted by your own sharp inhale, you held the breath as you watched Cooper’s eyes settled on yours, your hands above you head against the wall, his hands tight around your wrists, preventing you from holding him back any further.
“I’m here to keep you safe, darlin’. You’ll be fine.”
His words meant very little against what you knew was lurking out there, and your nerves pushed your protests out of your clamping throat.
“But Cooper, you know I get scared… I don’t want to do this, not here.”
“Well too bad, missy…”
He lifted your hands and slammed them back down again, watching as you winced at the dull pain.
“… it ain’t like there’s a nice place I can take a girl like you for something like this…”
Cooper’s grip loosened, one of his hands leaving yours as he fumbled with the belt on his pants. You could have easily pulled away, but you didn’t. You couldn’t be sure why, and you chose not to linger on that thought, luckily distracted from it as Cooper’s unbuckled belt clanged, his eyes back towards you.
“…Now, are you going to be a good girl and take it?”
The free hand now drifted to his hip, pushing back his long coat, his palm lazily resting on the holstered gun by his side before he continued speaking. Slowly, clearly, in a low, guttural tone.
“Or am I gonna have to be a bad man and take. It.”
His stare penetrated you, like he could see through your skull to the wall you were trapped against. Your chest seemed to stay completely still despite the deep breaths you took. When you tried to speak, your tongue stayed flat, your lips trembling, nothing but a squeak of air managing to pass between you.
“I asked you a question.”
All you offered was a stuttered mumble and a sheepish nod of your head, a smile offered to you by Cooper as he kicked your legs apart with his muddy boot. Two gloved fingers teased at the front of your pants, pulling them away from skin before sinking below the waistband and brushing against your thickened lips. Excitement, adrenaline, fear. All of it passed over you in a heartbeat, your heart fluttering as he removed his hands from you. Bringing the fingers to his lips, he bit down on the leather with his yellowed teeth, tearing off the glove and tossing it to the ground. His fingers were back down quickly, spreading apart your folds. His uncovered fingers delved inside of you, only briefly, before he withdrew that small modicum of pleasure from the otherwise intense and nerve-wracking situation.
As he separated himself from you, your back arched involuntarily away from the wall, your body betraying your protests as you ached for more of his touch.
“My, my… you sure were fussing a lot for someone who is clearly enjoying themselves…”
Bringing his two fingers up, he spread them apart, watching carefully as your slick stretched in long strands between them.
“Bend over.”
“Cooper, wait, please, I-”
Gripping your waist, Cooper knocked you off balance and let you fall to the floor, a cloud of dust rising up around you.
“I done enough waitin’, darlin’.”
As you struggled to get onto all fours, you felt yourself knocked once more, cheek slamming to the ground as your arms were pulled up behind your back. You could feel the rope tightening around your skin, your wrists bound together and stuck against your spine.
“Now listen, you just lie there…”
He leaned down, whispering into your ear, his hot breath tingling you, making the hairs rise on the back of your neck.
“… and try to keep quiet.”
Behind you, Cooper fell to his knees, pulling down his own pants before turning his attention to yours, uncovering just enough of you that he knew he could slip himself between your thighs and into your wet, warm cunt without leaving either of you too vulnerable to any surprise guests.
Once his other glove was off, you could feel his palm sliding up your back, cracked nails scratching at the nape of your neck before his fingers gripped your hair. Your back contorted as he lifted your face from the ground, positioning you perfectly for his curved cock, lubed with his own drool which he let drip down from his lips in a long, lewd strand, to slide inside of you with little mercy. He pounded into you once, setting the tone for the rest of the encounter you had to endure.
But he hadn’t lied.
“Just a little longer, darlin’, we’ll have you back on two legs… just hng gimme… ah… fuck, that’s it…”
His brutal pace, the way he was so desperately trying to get to the conclusion, the relief, the pain of the stretch, the heat in your own chest that made you moan in response to the way his cock pulsed within your walls.
But he was true to his word.
Because while one hand was tugging at the hair, fingernails scratching your scalp, his hips bucking into your body, knocking you forward and into the ground, his other hand clutched the shotgun, finger teasing the trigger, tempted to send shots into the air at his climax, but ready to defend you both against anyone, or anything, that threatened to interrupt him.
“See, darlin’… not so bad after all.”
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eff-plays · 8 months
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There's one convo with Astarion that's one of my favorites that I haven't seen mentioned or discussed yet happens (I assume) if you have high approval with him but play a good-aligned character. (This is at 60+ approval, start of Act 2.) It's probably because it's not a romantic cutscene so it doesn't get mentioned as much as the others (or because he's racist in it and some of y'all don't like to acknowledge that he has character flaws), but I think it's vital to his character and to explain his early relationship with a good-aligned Tav.
I would like to break it down a little, step by step. Because we are all cringe here.
First, he claims to feel a connection between Tav and himself, and the reason for this is because he believes he's identified "ambition" in Tav (and I'll explain why he's wrong later, but that's mostly headcanon territory, so we'll ignore it for now).
But, there's also clearly something holding Tav back from realizing their full potential, which is their naivete.
"Just that you ... have a big heart. You like doing what's right."
(The animations and voice acting here make him look and sound so fucking condescending, 10/10.)
However, Astarion doesn't tell them this is wrong, or that he disagrees. He implies it's a flaw, but doesn't state it outright. That's dangerous territory, see, and might predispose them to get defensive and reject what he has to say next.
No, he tries (and fails in my case, but it's cute that he tries, bless him) to manipulate Tav by appealing to that big heart of theirs.
"So I was thinking, what would be the right thing to do when we get to Moonrise Towers? When we come face-to-face with whoever is controlling the parasites in our heads."
"I'm just saying there's an opportunity here. If we can control the tadpoles, we can keep ourselves safe and liberate the world from this evil."
See what he's doing? You like doing what's right, so what would be the right thing to do? We can keep ourselves safe. Liberate the world from evil.
It's very blatant, but he's trying to appeal to Tav's good nature by framing his questionable ideas as something that will benefit the greater good, something that's morally righteous that they would agree with.
And of course, it's incredibly funny when you ask how he thinks you'll do that, and he fumbles and admits he's not a "details person," but it's also revealing.
He thinks he's found in Tav ambition, when all he's actually found is ability. Tav exercises power proficiently, while Astarion does not. If he had the authority they have, he'd let ambition drive his actions, which is why he assumes that's what drives Tav when they exercise their power. A good-aligned Tav has very little ambition, I'd argue, but they have plenty of opportunity to exercise their power, which they do when their hand is forced.
So what Astarion is saying is, in effect, hey, you have power, I have ambition. Will you please use your authority/ability to do what I want? Here's how it'll totally be for the greater good, I prommy.
This is brilliant writing, and I really applaud Larian for managing to walk that fine line of making Astarion so sympathetic while he's literally trying to manipulate the player character. Because when I first got this convo, my thought was both "wow, I adore how blatant and terrible his manipulation attempts are, it's kind of endearing" and "he's so terrified, it's genuinely quite tragic."
If we control the tadpoles, we can keep ourselves safe. This works only somewhat as an appeal to good-aligned Tav, because it could also potentially sound very selfish, especially if Tav is the self-sacrificing sort. So notice how, when he says "liberate the world from evil", it sounds kinda tacked-on, an afterthought designed to bury his main goal, which is keep "ourselves" (i.e. himself) safe. Like, yes, this will keep us/me safe, but if you're not into that, then it'll totally help the world, too! It doesn't quite work, because he still sounds ironic and like he doesn't believe they'd be liberating anything from any evil (work that 10 Charisma, boy), but that's the intent, I think.
Does he want power for power's sake? Yes. Is he gleefully powerhungry? Absolutely. But he's also fucking terrified, and that slips through just a little bit, even behind the smug and confident facade.
He's trying to get Tav, whom he's seen exercise their power over others, to lend some of it to him, so that he may never fear anything ever again.
All of this from a short, smug convo where he admits he's too stupid to figure out how to fulfill his dreams of world domination.
God tier characterization, 10/10.
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