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#putting my characters INTO the background
ambrosiagourmet · 2 days
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Rin Masterpost
Rin! Rinsha Fana! Beloved side character I think about far too much (or maybe not enough?)
I decided that it might be nice to put together an informational post about Rin, since she has some of my favorite background details of any character in Dungeon Meshi. This is partly as reference for myself, and partly for anyone else who might be interested in her but not know where to chase down the tidbits we we get of her, both in canon & extra materials. There’s also a little bit of theorizing and analysis sprinkled in for fun.
If anyone spots something I missed, please let me know and I will add it in!
Alright. Time for ultimate #rinposting
History and Timeline:
We don't have an official timeline for Rin (even in the expanded Adventurer's Bible, sadly), but we can put a lot of pieces together based on Kabru's timeline & their respective ages.
Rin is 2 years older than Kabru, and they met when he was 9. Assuming that he met her soon after she was taken to the elven capital, that means that the elves took her when she was 11.
Before that, she lived on the Northern Continent. Interestingly, when Mickbell asks about Shuro, Rin says she was born "here."
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Since "here" doesn't mean the actual Island itself, it must mean simply "not the east." She is described in the Adventurer's Bible as having "no real knowledge of or attachment to the East," so maybe that's why she draws a "there" verses "here" line.
I'd also like to add a note here that the elves don't seem uh... they don't seem great about respecting the value of other cultures, especially those of short-life species. Milsiril seems to have discouraged Kabru from eating or remembering food from his hometown, at least, and that's even as an adoptive parent who cares (at least in some way) for her child. As I will touch on later, the "care" that Rin was under probably had even less respect for her history or ties to either Eastern or Northern culture.
That is all to say, considering that Rin spent many years with the elves, I'd take her having "[no] attachment to the East" as more of a comment on how she feels now, and less as a definite choice she made. She may genuinely have chosen that approach and opinion for herself, she may have been pushed towards it by the elves, and she may have had little choice at all in the matter - all are valid interpretations, though I personally lean towards the thought that it's unlikely the elves didn't have at least some hand in it.
Anyway, Rin does seem to know at least a bit about her heritage - she can presumably name and identify the specific island her parents are from, and she recognizes that "Shuro" isn't a name used there. She also knows that different places from the Eastern archipelago speak different languages, so she knows at least a little about the other islands as well.
Some additional extrapolations I'll make based on these facts: she never mentions, and probably isn't in contact with, any family from her island. This may be because her extended family died, because her parents didn't (or weren't able to) maintain contact, or because she lost contact when she was taken by the elves. Somewhat relatedly, she also prooobably doesn't speak the language, at least not fluently, though her being able to comment on the state of language in the archipelago makes me think that she at least learned a little as a kid.
Anyway, Rin's parents were refugees from the archipelago, though we don't know what specifically caused them to leave. There is this little tidbit of info we get (from the cover of chapter 48, of all places), though:
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So yeah, that seems like it would be the backdrop of Rin's parents fleeing. As I said earlier, it's unclear if Rin might have any living family left back on her island. The listing she has for “family” in the Adventurer's Bible is just a dash, but so is Izutsumi's, for instance, and we know that she was taken from her family with no knowledge of who might still be out there. It's possible everyone else was killed, it's possible they were separated... it's possible that Rin's parents didn't even know.
As an additional note, and this is speculation on my part, but I think there is an argument to be made, with this tidbit from the cover as well as the Nakamoto clan's specialty in espionage and use of ninjas, that the politics of the archipelago are partially based on Sengoku era Japan. Not necessarily super relevant here, but I think it's interesting context for all... of the archipelago characters, honestly.
(Especially considering it seems like the Nakamoto clan is in a relatively comfortable position, and yet clearly are involved, or at least prepared to be involved in larger conflict. How stable is their position, really? How is Shuro's father viewed by the wider region and archipelago as a whole? What about his lord? NOT THE POINT THIS IS A POST ABOUT RIN. BUT IT'S VERY INTERESTING TO THINK ABOUT.)
Okay, back to Rin's parents.
Whatever caused them to leave, they made their way to the north, where they made their living with their magic for a time. There are no specifics about what kind of magic they used, but we know at least some examples of jobs that magic can get you, based on the flashback to Laios and Falin's childhood in chapter 26. Laios proposes that Fain could use her magic to be a priest, gravekeeper, or wandering exorcist. Though these are specific to Falin's affinity with spirits, they give some idea of the shape of the work that might be available. It's important, but it is also on the outskirts of society - not necessarily admired or appreciated by the average person.
And Rin’s parents were killed by vigilantes for that magic. It's not entirely news that superstitious villages in the area would sometimes kill magic users - we see a small drawing of people being burned at the stake in a panel towards the end of the manga:
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Nonetheless, Rin is the only person in the main cast who has experienced this brutality firsthand. And she did experience it firsthand, having been found by the elves as the sole survivor within the burnt ruins of her home.
It is unknown exactly how she survived, or what happened to her parents before and during the fire. Rin lived, and they did not.
The elves came some time after the fire, intending to investigate reports of ancient magic. They (and we) don't know if Rin's parents actually did use ancient magic, or if the reports and murders were simply spurred by general fear and superstition. Rin was the only piece of "evidence" that remained, and so she was taken back to the west with the elves when they left.
We don't know much about her time on the Northern Central Continent (where the elves/Canaries are based), but it doesn't seem like she was adopted or taken in by anyone the way that Kabru was. According to the Adventurer's Bible, after being taken into custody, "under their care she was treated as a captive animal would be." I would guess that means very basic food and shelter, little to no education. Probably the most social contact she got was from Kabru, as well as maybe, occasionally, from elves treating her as a curiosity, such as in this bit in the Adventurer’s Bible:
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Assuming she left with Kabru (which seems like it is the case, there's no info about them having separated during that time), she spent 9 years with the elves, and has been with Kabru on the Island in the 4 years since then.
She also stays in the Golden Country after the end of the story, apparently working as an alchemist.
Additional Details (& Speculation):
What does she remember of her family and home?
I'd like to take a moment here to explore a little of what Rin might remember of her parents and home.
For reference, we can look at Kabru. The canaries came to Utaya when Kabru was 6, and he arrived in the capital when he was 7. He remembers the events of the tragedy in his home, and has some memories of his mother and life in Utaya, including memories of local dishes.
Rin lost her parents and home at 11, so she presumably has much clearer memories of the events that lead to her being taken by the elves... or she might, assuming that they haven't been completely blocked by her trauma from the event.
Yeah, I am fairly damn sure that she's got some memory issues from trauma and PTSD. For one, this is the state she was found in:
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As already mentioned, she was also treated like something of an animal by the elves. She probably didn't have a lot of contact with other people, which would further perpetuate that sense of isolation and dehumanization. What I'm getting at here is that Rin probably didn't have much to help pull her out of this place, or heal these wounds. She had Kabru, who was also a kid and even younger than her, and she had herself.
Obviously trauma leaves different scars on everyone, and everyone responds and copes in different ways. But I do think it is interesting that we never hear anything about Rin's parents or life before the elves, and there are no real details about it given in the Adventurer's Bible the way we have for Kabru. What's presented is more surface level facts: they were refugees, they made a living with magic, they were killed.
I'm inclined to believe that things are laid out this way because that's how Rin holds on to these things. She knows things about them, but possibly remembers them more as things she was told/knows to be true, rather than actual memories she can picture herself experiencing.
Rin's Magic
In an interesting counterpoint to her potentially spotty memory, I do actually think Rin may have learned magic from her parents (or started learning, and was self-taught from there). She never attended a magic academy, and actually has a bit of grudge against people who did - owing to the social protection afforded to "upper-class mages," which her parents did not have. She also almost certainly wouldn't have been taught by the elves, who not only treated her as an animal but also knew her parents may have been involved with ancient magic.
Falin began to show signs of magical talent at 8, and was sent to the Magic Academy at 10, and that was as someone who had absolutely no guidance about or exposure to magic in her home town. Raised by two mage parents, I think Rin absolutely could have been learning some things by the time she was 11.
In terms of continued learning, I'll add that Rin is able to identify Marcille's magic as being A) from an Academy student, and B) cast by an elf:
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This makes me think that she continued to study magic on her own while held by the elves, and probably even more so after leaving with Kabru. They didn't form the party until two years after they left the elves, which would give Rin plenty of time to try and learn from other adventurers on the Island, or to study up on her own. She'd probably be able to pick up some dungeon-crawling basics (like the water walk spell), as well as become familiar with the skill level and expression of skill common in different people with different backgrounds (hence why she is able to comment on the "textbook" academy wards).
Much like Marcille, Rin also seems to rely on a 'one size fits all' Big Boom method of dealing with monsters: lightning. We see the best example of its power in the fight with Chimera Falin:
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But we also see her cast it pretty recklessly in a few other places, including the end credits of the new anime ED, which I think provides a good example of the downsides to such an approach...
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Yeah, it is very much a 'get out of the way or get zapped' spell.
Especially since Marcille's offensive magic is self-taught and works very similarly, this definitely reinforces the idea that Rin figured most of this stuff out herself.
Outfit and Character Design
Dear sweet Rin of the Red And Black... how I love her design.
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First of all, her clothes are damaged. Despite the fact that Rin looks relatively well put together overall, her outfit is worn out. I have some theories on why this is that I'll get to in a bit, but for now I'll just touch on what this design communicates in general about it.
I think, just like with Kabru's horribly messy room, it creates a sense that there is something more complicated underneath the surface. Something that isn't being addressed or seen to, just as the dress hasn't been mended or replaced.
It also reflects her not caring a ton about her appearance. She's neat, but she's not concerned about being pretty, so she doesn't bother with fixing up her outfit after her dungeon crawls. This also fits with her perpetual scowl (which I will talk more about in a bit), and slightly disheveled hair.
Next: the gloves. At first I thought they might be a sort of uncomfortable-with-touch thing, but after skimming through the manga and some bonus content, I have another theory. Rin takes the gloves off to eat, as well as a few other instances, such as when working on a spell with Holm and Marcille in chapter 36
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This one is especially interesting because she has them on in the next chapter, during the fight with Falin. Since she also isn't wearing gloves during some of the Daydream Hour art of her outside of the dungeon, that leads me to believe that they are specifically for combat.
What does she need them for, though? Most other casters we see don't wear gloves. Well... just look at the other half of the page where she attacks Falin with lightning:
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She is enveloped by this spell. I said it before was pretty reckless magic, but maybe its not just a problem for her teammates, but for her as well.
So here's my theory: maybe the gloves are rubber, or some other electricity-resistant material? They might help protect her from her own magic. I don't know why a caster would need gloves for combat otherwise.
I also think this might be why her dress is tattered at the bottom, by the way. Especially since the Daydream Hour genderswap design doesn't have a similar problem with his outfit, since the tunic isn't as long.
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I will admit this is a bit of stretch/guess, but I think it's a fun one, and I wanted to share. I do think I'm right about the gloves being for dungeons/fighting specifically, at least. That seems pretty consistent throughout all of her appearances.
I also mentioned her scowl, so I'll touch on that briefly as well. The (fairly confirmed) explanation for Rin's expression is that she intentionally wears a frown to prevent her other expressions from showing through. I think it's important to emphasize that it's not just smiling that she is trying to suppress here - it's any strong emotion:
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Anyway, because I can, here is the art of Rin smiling.
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Rin and Kabru
I have talked a bit about Rin and Kabru's history, but I think it deserves its own section.
I think it's very interesting that Rin is pretty much the ONLY character in all of Dungeon Meshi that has explicit canonical romantic interesting in someone. It's literally part of the main summary sentence in her character profile.
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This could be sort of reductive as a way to describe a female character (and in some ways it still is), but I think in part the simplicity and directness of it actually is part of what makes it so interesting. Especially when on the very next page we see the comic about her backstory. "This mage is in love with Kabru" -> one page of a horribly traumatic event and a child frozen in shock with no one to comfort her. What does that do?
Well, in my opinion, it shows how much Rin focuses on Kabru as something to keep her in the present. In contrast with the immense loss she has experienced, her love for Kabru is current and alive. He has presumably been her anchor for years, and I think that her love is part of that anchor.
Adding to this, in contrast with how explicit her feelings are, she never seems to actively pursue Kabru. She complains about his potential interest in other women, but she doesn't really flirt. She doesn't let herself smile around him any more than anyone else, and she doesn't hide her bitterness or anger from him to present a more appealing persona.
As much as she craves Kabru's attention, and has stayed by his side for years, I don't know that she really wants to possess him. He seems to know about her feelings, more or less, and she seems to know that he knows. Maybe she believes he doesn't reciprocate and is respecting that, maybe she's afraid of what she could lose if she tried to change things, or maybe the change itself frightens her. In any case, though she's not exactly happy with the way things are between them, she doesn't seem to be trying to change that status quo.
A specific thing I'd also like to talk about with their relationship, beyond Rin's love for him, is her fear for him. As the Adventurer's Bible puts it, "she worries that his knack for dealing with whatever life throws at him might lead him to get too full of himself and end up in serious trouble."
Rin is an interesting mix of restrained and explosive, herself. Her magic is destructive, her temper seems to run hot (she gets annoyed easily, at least), and her feelings for Kabru are apparent. At the same time, she doesn't let her emotions show on her face, she is the one who bluntly states that the group has hit the limit of their abilities, and she doesn't act on those obvious feelings for Kabru. It's interesting, then, that what she fears for Kabru is that he won't restrain himself.
And a small personal idea about that as well: I wonder if she somewhat blames her parents for getting killed. Again, this is very speculative, but I think it's interesting that her fear for Kabru is that he will get too full of himself. Take up too much space. It's never really stated what Rin thinks of her parents, but it can be easy in grief to search for control, and control often means blame. If they hadn't been so confident, so flashy, would they still be alive...?
I don't know if she's ever thought like that, and it could well be that her fears for Kabru come from a totally different place. But it's an interesting connective thread between her past and present - the idea of "getting in trouble" for taking up too much space and being too confident in one's own abilities.
Miscellaneous Tidbits:
On that note, I'd like to wrap up the main part of this post, and move on to a few extra things that I couldn't find another place for.
Rin plays with her hair when she's stressed
Using stressed as a pretty big umbrella here, because I think it's hard to perfectly pin down all the emotions at play, but it is a habit of hers. Best displayed in chapter 32, but it shows up in other places, too.
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Her design contrasts with Marcille
This is a small thing, but I just love how much they are visual opposites.
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Rin wears red and black and has dark hair, Marcille wears blue and white and has light hair. Marcille cares a great deal for her hair and puts it up in elaborate hairstyles, and Rin's is mostly loose and a bit messy. Marcille was even educated at the Magic Academy, which Rin dislikes. They both have little capelets. Also they both look very cute in each other's clothes.
Rin knows Flamela (and they meet again in canon)
Nothing much is done with this in canon, but I think it’s super interesting that Flamela's squad are the ones that find Rin as a child and take her away to the west, and then they end up stuck in the dungeon together for a bit.
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Two days??? I'm so very curious what things were like between these three.
Aaaand I think that's all I have to say about Rin! For the time being at least. There's a lot more analysis that could be done about her and Kabru especially, but for this post I wanted to keep things at least somewhat anchored to canon facts, with only a layer or two of speculation on top.
If it isn't already obvious, I think Rin is a super interesting character with a ton of potential depth to explore. She mostly interacts with Kabru in canon, but has ties to a bunch of other characters: she and Marcille fill similar roles in their parties but have differing personalities and histories, she and Falin (and Laios) have been tremendously shaped by xenophobia and fear of magic common in the Northern Continent, her parents fled from conflict in the same region Shuro and his retainers are from, and she has history with Flamela and some of the second canary squad.
Her temper, her fear, her love... her repression and passion - they all inform her character, even in small ways, even with as little time as she spends on the page.
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flowerandblood · 3 days
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The Fall from the Heavens (25)
[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]
[ warnings: angst, tension, anxiety, a lot of half-truths ]
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[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]
The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.
Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard
Author note: For the purposes of this story, Lord Rodrik Arryn had a son and an heir, who in turn has a son of his own, to whom our Lady Strong was betrothed. I invented the lullaby in this chapter, so if you think it's weird, thank me, lol.
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
After what he heard, he just vomited, unable to stop the convulsions that were squeezing his stomach, the rapid pounding of his heart or his terrified, ragged breathing. He could feel tears of despair and fear running down his cheeks as he coughed once more, panting heavily over the vessel − he felt like his whole body was twitching.
You will betray her at the moment she trusts you the most.
You will achieve victory, but she will never let you touch herself again.
You will put your child inside me, your bastard son, who will rule Harrenhal after our death.
He felt his stomach twist again in pain at the mere memory – he leaned over the bowl, feeling the gag reflex shake his body once more, but nothing left his throat.
He cried out loudly as if he were a small child, covering his face with his hand, leaning over the table, thinking about how much he needed his wife right now.
How much he wanted to snuggle between her soft, sweet breasts, to feel her smooth, warm hands stroking his hair, her heart beating beneath his cheek.
He drew in a loud breath, reminding himself that he had left her alone and that any moment spent in this disgusting place could have been her last; he reached for the cup of wine, rinsed his mouth a few times and spat the contents into the bowl, washing his face with fresh water, trying to calm himself.
This was part of their game, he thought, feeling his terror slowly begin to be replaced by fury.
He was sure Larys Strong had made her say it because he wanted him to believe that what was to come was destiny, not his and his grandfather's plan.
They wanted to manipulate him, to force him to leave her, to strip her of his protection, to destroy her.
No, he thought.
He was no longer a small child.
He left the fortress feeling that he had again unwittingly become the cold, empty stone he had been for eight years when she had not been with him, recognising that he had to keep a cool head.
He could not allow himself to be weak now.
He knew that if he just looked at her, if he just saw her face again and remembered what that woman had said to him he would simply burst into sobs, so to her disappointment he pretended not to see her.
The journey to the Eyrie, although spent in full sun and short, was unbearable for him and dragged on endlessly; he felt that waves of thoughts, suppositions and versions of events flowed through his mind one after another, causing complete chaos in his head.
What if Rhaenyra did not agree despite his lie?
What if she agrees, but demands the head of his grandfather and mother?
Whoever he was, his grandfather was his kin, his blood; all his life he had fought for them and their rights even if he himself often despised him.
How should he behave in such a situation so as not to let her down?
To fight? Declare war on them? Let her decide for herself once again which side she would stand on this time?
He pressed his forehead to the front of his saddle, clenching his hands on the ropes he held in his fist, feeling that he was descending into madness.
As they landed in the valley below the fortress he slid off his saddle, thinking that he had to share his plan with her, lest she accidentally say something herself that might destroy their credibility.
"− uncle −" She began, walking towards him, her face all pink and sweaty from exertion, unruly strands of her hair clinging to her skin.
His heart pounded harder.
You will come back here to face your nephew and you will take me, because you will decide that I am similar to her enough to satisfy your pain and longing.
You will put your child inside me, your bastard son, who will rule Harrenhal after our death.
He swallowed loudly, feeling that his vision was blank, his hands clenched into fists.
"− we'll tell them you're expecting my child −" He said coolly, sidestepping her, heading ahead, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible − he heard her draw in a loud breath as she moved immediately after him, terrified, trying to keep up with him.
"− what? − Aemond, we can't lie, not now −" She muttered, clearly terrified by this vision − he pressed his lips together into a thin line, furious that she was making this all even more difficult.
"− they must agree to our terms − I will not discuss my decisions with you −" He growled impatiently and stopped when her silhouette appeared in front of him – her palms slapped against his chest, a fury in her eyes that startled him.
"− you will − you don't know them as well as you do − Daemon can sense the lie, he will see it in your eyes − do you think that once they understand that you are manipulating them they will agree to whatever conditions you set for them? −" She asked with an irritation in her voice that he didn't like; he felt a cold sweat on his neck at the unbearable thought that she was partly right.
Fuck.
He stared at her for a moment, breathing heavily, feeling like he was about to faint, another disturbing thought flashed through his mind.
What had that whore said to her?
"− that fucking witch − what did she say to you? −" He asked uneasily, wanting to be sure she wasn't trying to manipulate his wife the way she was trying to manipulate him.
His Rheanys blinked rapidly and swallowed hard, as if his question made her uncomfortable − he felt an unpleasant twinge in his stomach at the sight.
"− that we should not return to Harrenhal − that I should watch out for myself and trust no one −" She muttered, and he felt his heart stop.
That we should not return to Harrenhal.
That I should watch out for myself and trust no one.
She warned her.
Why?
He felt that he understood absolutely none of this; the woman's behaviour seemed to make no sense to him, but that wasn't the worst of it.
The worst part was the thought that perhaps she really believed what she said.
That perhaps she really did see his betrayal and what he would do next in her dream or in the fire.
He stood watching her like a small, frightened child who was afraid to tell a parent that he had stolen and destroyed their favourite book unwillingly, who was afraid to admit his guilt for fear of punishment and what it entailed.
She must have seen what was happening to him in his gaze because she walked over to him and touched his upper arms, her scent, the smell of vanilla reached his nose.
"− husband, what happened? − if you have doubts, let's discuss everything − but please don't close yourself in the fortress of your mind −" She muttered pleadingly, her voice warm and calm, soothing, as if she understood that he was afraid.
That thought, the realisation that she knew him well enough that he couldn't hide from her what was happening inside him made him feel even worse.
He thought she would loathe him forever.
He swallowed hard as she cupped his cheeks between her hands and closed his eyes, feeling himself tremble all over, focusing only on her closeness.
"− uncle − look at me − I am your ally − I always have been −" She whispered tenderly making another wave of heat and fear surge through his body at the same time, causing something inside him to crack.
"You're your parents' child too. Just like me. What will you do when one of them demands the other's head?" He asked coldly, feeling his heart pounding like mad − he felt like he could hear in his ears the fast pumping of blood through his veins.
His wife furrowed her brows, shaking her head as if she did not understand what he had just said to her.
"− I will never agree to this − despite what your grandfather and your mother did to me, I will not agree for them to be harmed if you assure me to do the same − you know that I am not driven by revenge − and you? − you are the one who constantly doubts me, however, ever since I appeared in King's Landing you have been the one to let me down − yet I remain faithful to you − I chose you, uncle, when will you understand it? − when will you understand that there is no other way for me but by your side even if I come to burn? −"
She said in a trembling, angry, breaking voice from which a shiver ran down his back; he looked at her in disbelief feeling his body filled with guilt and shame.
You are the one who constantly doubts me, however, ever since I appeared in King's Landing you have been the one to let me down.
She was right.
She welcomed him with open arms despite the fact that he hadn't answered her letters for eight years; she didn't show him any kind of resentment, she didn't demand an apology from him, she lavished him with understanding and tenderness when he needed it, wanting to make things right.
It was he who betrayed her when Aegon became King.
It was his mother who forced her to drink the moon tea.
He was the one who made her try to take her own life.
He was the one who kept her locked up like a prisoner.
And yet, it was he who perpetually accused her in his head of the possibility of betrayal, as if he was just waiting for it.
For an excuse to decide that this was never going to succeed.
Despite this, she was now standing in front of him, being on his side, willing to fight alongside him for a future for them.
He felt a squeeze in his throat at this realisation, at the thought that there was never any other way for him than the one that would always lead him to her, to his beloved, to his friend.
To his Rheanys.
He lifted his hand, in some subconscious gesture of tenderness and closeness placing an unruly strand of her dark hair behind her ear, looking at her pretty face, at her bright, shining eyes, at her long lashes, at her swollen, moist lips − everything that belonged to him, that he could take every night.
He felt his manhood twitch in his breeches at the thought.
"Can I kiss you?" He heard her whisper and looked at her, seeing that she was staring at him exactly as she had then, that day when she had come to his chamber as a child, holding a small book clutched to her chest in her hands.
He leaned towards her without a word and closed his eyes, sighing in relief when her plump, soft lips pressed against his in a sweet, sticky kiss; she pulled away from him, stroking his cheeks and hair with her hands, but it wasn't enough for him.
"One more time."
He moaned into her mouth and locked her in the tight, strong embrace of his arms as her lips pressed against his again, this time as if she wanted to devour him, her wet, swollen lips sucking and licking him making him completely hard; he felt the lust, the hot feeling he shared with her shake his body as his eyes involuntarily filled with tears at the thought of what he had heard.
You will take me, because you will decide that I am similar to her enough to satisfy your pain and longing.
You will put your child inside me.
But he wanted her.
He wanted his childhood friend.
His lover, his companion, his joy.
She filled his heart with herself so much that there was no room in it for any Visenya.
"I love you." He muttered helplessly, feeling the words leave his throat without the participation of his free will. "I've always loved you."
He felt her gasp loudly at his words as her body trembled in his arms; his heart squeezed tight with pain as she wept quietly.
"− I feel that some weight has crushed you, my beloved − it covers you like a heavy black cloak − but I am by your side − I am with you − trust me − I know how to speak with them, I know them −" She mumbled out looking at him with a hot gaze full of affection from which he felt that nothing mattered anymore, that he couldn't fight himself or what only she could do.
He was completely helpless against her.
"− will you be by my side even when all is lost? − even if there is nothing left but darkness? −" He asked in a breaking voice, and she smiled, so sweetly, tenderly, joyfully that his hands clenched tighter on her body.
"− yes − don't go the path I could not follow − let me stay by your side − if I am to leave this world, I want to die in your arms −" She whispered softly, and he felt that it was over for him, that whatever he had been thinking about a moment ago, it didn't matter.
"− so be it − fall with me −" He breathed out, before his lips pressed greedily into hers, his fingers digging into the material of her leather coat enclosing her in his tight embrace, their tongues colliding with each other, licking with their soft sighs of pleasure.
He thought, panting hard into her throat, caressing her with a loud click of their saliva, that he could take her now, on the grass, in front of everyone, and fuck her so hard that the whole Eyrie would hear.
This, however, did not happen.
The sight of her would-be betrothed was the last thing he wanted to see − Ronnel Arryn seemed to him to be a boastful and self-obsessed man, focused only on the tonnage of his muscles and how he presented himself.
His grin full of mockery which he threw back at him, looking at the left side of his face made him involuntarily think how pleasant it would be to just slit his throat.
He remembered why they were actually there when they walked into the circular chamber where his uncle and half-sister were waiting for them − he pressed his lips into a thin line seeing that his sister-whore dared to wear his father's crown on her head.
He said nothing.
As his wife threw herself into her mother's arms, he glanced at Daemon; his uncle stood back leaning lazily against the wall, his chin lifted slightly in some sort of challenge, a lazy, mocking smirk on his face.
"Let's sit down." He heard his sister's voice at last, but he had no intention of obeying her orders; so he stood, looking at his uncle, who also had not moved from his place, stroking the handle of his Dark Sister thoughtfully.
"My husband has conveyed to me that my brother-usurper wants to pact over the succession of the throne he himself has unlawfully taken. I must admit that this is a quite ridiculous situation." Rheanrya began, and he rolled his eyes, feeling frustrated and impatient. His wife threw him a quick, frightened glance − he, however, just looked at her, letting her speak.
He decided that he would trust her.
His niece grunted loudly and looked at her mother, adjusting herself in her seat, tense.
"My uncle, Prince Aegon, had no choice. His mother is deeply convinced that her husband, my grandfather, and our King, revealed his final will to her before he died. She mentioned to my uncle about the Prince who was promised, about Aegon's dream. I think she misunderstood him, mother, I…" She paused as Rheanyra looked quickly in Daemon's direction − he and his wife exchanged quick, shocked glances between themselves.
He furrowed his brow, feeling discomfort in his pit, wondering what they knew that might have escaped his attention.
Her mother looked at her again, some strange glint in her gaze.
"Mother?"
"Aegon the Conqueror's Dream. A Song of Ice and Fire. This is the prophecy my father spoke to me about. Whatever Alicent heard, it did not apply to her firstborn son." She said in a trembling voice, as if it was obvious to her.
He felt rage at the thought that their father had shared with his daughter some prophecy, a future that was to befall their lineage, but did not consider them, his sons, worthy of the privilege.
Humiliation, shame and anger surged through his body making his words involuntarily leave his lips.
"You mean to say that our father only conveyed the contents of this prophecy to you, but you don't believe my mother that he could have passed on to her that he changed his mind regarding the succession?" He growled, his sister and uncle throwing him quick, warning glances.
"Calm down, nephew. You are speaking to the Queen." Daemon reminded him, and he looked at him with rage.
"She is not my Queen." He hissed, his hand sliding down to the hilt of his sword when he saw Daemon's fingers tighten around his Dark Sister.
"That's enough. We have met here because Aegon realises, as you do Mother, that his and your children's rights to the throne will be challenged, and the war will not end with your death." His wife interjected, startling him as did the rest of those gathered, his heart began to pound like mad.
What?
"Are you undermining Jace, my firstborn son's right to the throne?" Her mother asked in a trembling tone, clearly not believing what she was suggesting.
Her daughter drew in a loud breath and swallowed hard before answering her.
"He's a bastard, mother. Like me, Luke and Joffrey, he cannot inherit the throne. Will you cut off my tongue for those words? Will you deprive me of my head, father?"
He looked at her with his lips slightly parted, feeling that his mind was not yet able to comprehend fully what she had actually done.
She continued, however, as if the words were pouring out of her like a river.
"We just lie and lie and lie until in the end we ourselves don't know where the truth lies, but it is there somewhere, always, and sooner or later none of us will be able to deny it even if we beheaded all the men in the Seven Kingdoms."
He felt a surge of satisfaction and warm affection shake his body at her words, at her proof that she understood him, understood his pain, understood why her brothers could not be heirs to the throne.
How could he ever doubt her?
Her mother and stepfather seemed as shocked as he was, unable to get a word out.
"How dare you say such a thing? Your father, Laenor Velaryon, has recognised you and your brothers as his heirs. He gave you his name, he recognised you as his child in the eyes of the kingdom." Her mother muttered, clearly heartbroken that her own daughter was challenging her words.
"But the whole Kingdom knows, mother. Even if Jace were to sit on the throne after your death, his lineage will not be forgotten. Are you prepared to die knowing that neither he nor his children will ever be safe? That, like my uncle's coronation, his coronation would also be challenged by lords across the Kingdom?" She asked in pain, as if she herself could no longer bear what was happening, how far they had gone in pretending what was the truth and what was a lie.
He thought that he himself would not have put into words better what he thought and acknowledged with pride that his wife was a great speaker.
That even he would have hesitated and reconsidered what she had said if he had heard the arguments spoken in this way.
"I know what humiliation you experienced, mother, and how much suffering you endured. Believe me that I did too. I, too, do not believe my grandfather would change his mind on his deathbed. I did not and do not recognise Aegon as King, nor have I ever called him that or given him the honour he deserves.
However, if we do not find an agreement, war will break out not only in the Realm, but in our family. This is what King Viserys wanted to prevent at the last supper before his death. Mother, after all, you are siblings. Your brother, though a traitor, extends his hand, he is ready to relinquish the crown he stole from you."
An awkward silence fell; Rhaenyra looked over her shoulder at her husband, apparently seeking his advice. His uncle stared at her with clenched lips, clearly believing that she should fight for her rights no matter what − even at the cost of war.
His half-sister looked at her daughter again and swallowed hard.
"I can consider the terms my husband has conveyed to me, but I also have my conditions. I will agree that it is your children who will inherit the Iron Throne, and you will be named as ruler-regents only if there are two kings, and you will be one of them.
You and your husband will share the power of the Kingdom equally and neither of you will sit on the throne or wear the crown. Aegon the Conqueror's crown and my father's crown will be kept in the treasury.
In addition, my husband and I will sit on the Small Council, and deprived of their seats will be your grandfather and Alicent. In addition, Otto Hightower will be stripped of all other functions and privileges and will reside under our oversight in King's Landing.
Jace will inherit Dragonstone as my first-born son. If no male heir is born to you, the official heirs will be the children from my and my uncle's marriage, pureblood Targaryens."
He stared at her wide-eyed, feeling the cold sweat on his back, his heart pounding like mad as his mind tried to quickly analyse what he had heard.
I will agree that it is your children who will inherit the Iron Throne, and you will only become ruler-regent if there are two kings, and you will be one of them.
You and your husband will share power in the kingdom equally and neither of you will sit on the throne or wear the crown. Aegon the Conqueror's crown and my father's crown will be kept in the treasury.
She wanted the kingdom to be ruled by two kings.
She wanted him and her daughter to have the same title, the same privileges.
He saw his niece look at him, her eyes big with terror, filled with fear of how he would react.
No, he thought.
She was no longer her daughter.
She was no longer a bastard.
She was his wife.
When he had covered her shoulders with the cloak with his family crest she had officially taken his name, and who her father was no longer mattered.
Although he knew that the name her mother had given her was different, to him she was Rhaenys.
Rhaenys Targaryen.
His childhood friend, a woman he trusted, respected, loved, whose opinion and letters he had held deep in his heart for years, whom he would have consulted if he had become king-regent anyway.
The thought that she would stand by his side, that she would help him carry this burden, that she would be like a second, necessary pillar to support the whole crumbling structure that was their family, filled him, to his surprise, not with frustration but relief.
He nodded his head.
His wife sighed quietly, looking at him with hope, turning her gaze to her mother. Rhaenyra's eyes welled with tears of grief and sorrow as she nodded, sealing her decision.
She had agreed.
Gods, she agreed.
"Pass on my words to my brother. Let him know that this is not just about my pride, but about the welfare of the Kingdom and our family. That I respect my father's will and hope that he will do the same." She said dispassionately and he nodded, feeling his whole body quiver with emotion, his hands clasped behind his back clenched into fists.
"You are surely exhausted. My cousin has prepared chambers for you where you can rest to set off on your return journey as we will tomorrow morning. Let us have supper together. I have been separated from my one daughter for too long." She said matter-of-factly and he swallowed hard feeling that he had completely frozen.
No.
None of them could stay here.
He couldn't propose that they fly to King's Landing knowing that they would surely disagree, so in desperation he proposed something that shocked everyone, including himself.
"No." He said coolly. "We'll spend the night in Dragonstone."
His niece beamed all over, her cheek blushing with happiness, as if she didn't believe his words.
"Do you mean it?" She asked sweetly like a little child to whom he had just given a wonderful surprise.
He felt a squeeze in his throat at the thought.
"Yes." He replied calmly, glancing at his uncle, who was squinting, watching him intently. "As an expression of my goodwill."
Daemon tapped the tip of his tongue against the wall of his cheek and hummed under his breath, a tense silence fell between them.
His wife was right.
He had the feeling that his gaze was piercing him to the core.
He muttered under his breath and looked at his wife − Rhaenyra, like his niece, seemed shocked by his proposal, but also pleased at the prospect of her daughter returning to her family home, if only for a while.
"Well…I see no objection. Daemon?" She asked her husband, who looked at his daughter. Apparently, something in her pleading gaze made him decide to remain silent for the time being, as he merely nodded his head in wordless agreement.
He closed his eyes and sighed quietly in relief, feeling a huge stone fall from his heart.
He stepped back, allowing Rhaenyra to leave, just behind her the room left Daemon throwing him one vigilant, mocking look telling him that he knew there was something more behind his words.
His wife, however, overwhelmed by excitement and joy, seemed not to notice it − she ran to him and snuggled into him, clasping her hands on his back, his arms immediately enclosing her in a tight, secure embrace.
He hadn't betrayed her.
He would never betray her.
So why did he feel so guilty?
"There are no words in which I can describe my gratitude to you. "She whispered, burying her face in his chest; he sighed heavily, pressing his lips to the top of her head, stroking her soft hair and neck with his fingers.
"I'm proud of you." He said calmly wanting her to know that he admired what she had done, the calmness in which she had presented his side's reasons while showing understanding and respect for her mother's rights and heritage.
He thanked the gods that he knew when to shut his mouth.
She looked at him and smiled shyly, as if his words surprised and embarrassed her. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, pressing her soft lips to his, and he murmured low, feeling a tightness in his throat.
He should tell her, he thought with pain, but he didn't know how.
He didn't want to spoil this beautiful moment.
So he kept silent, but the guilt, the fact that he was hiding something from her, pressed down on his shoulders like a huge burden, through which he could experience neither relief nor satisfaction that Rhaenyra had agreed to their terms.
He never expected to fly through the skies beside Larax, Caraxes and Syrax, to ever see Dragonstone, to propose a journey there of his own accord.
He felt shame filling him.
As he and his wife stepped inside their fortress, where their children were already waiting for them, an awkward silence ensued. Jace and Luke stood behind a large stone table that resembled the shape of all of Westeros, looking at him in disbelief and horror. He shuddered when he saw that Rhaena was the first to rush ahead, sidestepping him and her father, enclosing his wife in a sincere, tender embrace.
"I'm so happy you're alive." She muttered in a breaking voice – his niece stroked her back with a smile.
"Me too." He heard her whisper.
After a moment, Baela joined them, throwing him a cold, warning glance along the way, from which he only rolled his eyes. He looked again at Luke, who swallowed hard and lowered his gaze, clearly unable to bear his presence.
He felt disgusted at the sight of them, two boys with cheeks flushed from shame, who knew full well that they did not and should not have any claim to the throne.
He grinned involuntarily at the thought, seeing how pale Jace was, that he understood for certain that their presence meant he would officially cease to be his mother's heir.
Satisfaction as sweet as poison coursed through his veins at the thought.
Jace drew in a breath at the sight of his grimace, his hands clenched into fists as if he felt like lashing out at him − he flinched when Daemon stepped in front of him, standing between them and shook his head.
Jace swallowed hard, furious, lowering his gaze to the stone floor beneath his feet.
None of them came up to greet his niece; only little Joffrey ran up to her and burst into tears screaming that she had left them alone.
They resented her for the side she had chosen in their minds.
She was the only reason they were both still alive, he thought with a sneer.
His half-sister, seeing the look on his face and sensing the tension that reigned around them, decided to take pity on them and suggested that they make themselves comfortable in the chamber that had previously belonged to his wife.
He accepted her words with relief.
As they stepped inside he felt a squeeze in his throat − her quarters were modest, filled with her scent, the windows of her room facing the open sea, the sound of which he could clearly hear. He walked deeper in, looking around her chests of drawers and wardrobes, her wooden bookcases filled to the brim with books, before his gaze finally settled on an ornate oak desk.
He swallowed hard imagining her seated figure bent over parchment.
"− is this here? −" He asked casually, running his fingers over the table top, noticing with a pained heart that it was dusty.
A sign of how long she had not been here.
His niece looked at him surprised and blushed, as if the mere mention embarrassed her.
"− yes −"
He sat down in the chair she sat in every time she wished to convey her thoughts to him, to put them on paper, which then flew all the way to King's Landing to reach his hands. He glanced towards the windows, wondering how many times she had deliberated on choosing the right words while observing exactly the same view.
He thought he was touched.
"− we should rest, husband − if that's what you wish, we'll have supper alone −" She said softly, her voice trembling with excitement and joy.
She couldn't believe she was home again.
He nodded, not knowing what more he could answer.
He had felt the tension all evening; his wife had shown him various books she had read over the years, which she had told him about in her letters. He tried to listen to her and nod, stroking her arm with the tips of his fingers as she sat beside him, flicking through page after page of one of the volumes, looking for the quote she had mentioned to him. Her question pulled him out of his musings.
"− uncle − will you tell me what troubles you? −"
He looked at her horrified and swallowed with difficulty − he only grunted, not knowing what he should answer like a child caught in the act.
"I'm tired." He replied acknowledging that this was partly true. She nodded in understanding, he closed his eyelids as her hand gently stroked his cheek.
"Let's go to bed."
He wasn't going to fight her.
He wanted to leave this place as soon as possible and get away from Daemon's disturbing gaze.
His wife pressed her lips together, seeing that he had put a dagger under his pillow before he lay down − however, she said nothing, knowing he might trust her, but certainly not her family.
He lay down beside her, sighing heavily, and closed his eyes, figuring that perhaps when he woke up the next day and realised that tragedy had been avoided due to his decision, his conscience would have a little more mercy for him.
He murmured contentedly as he felt her arms embrace him, cuddling his face between her breasts, the warmth of her body, her scent filling his entire lungs. He tightened his hands on her back, trying to focus only on the touch of her hands, on her fingers combing gently through his hair, on the lullaby she hummed softly under her breath, and from which his eyelids grew heavier and heavier.
When the moon rises
over the dark sky
When you hear from afar
my bitter cry
Know that I long
Know that I long
Know that I long
When the sun rises
over the bright sky
When you hear from afar
my joyful cry
Know that I'm home
Know that I'm home
Know that I'm home
And then sleep fell over him.
His lips clung to her soft, long neck, sweaty from exertion, heavy, drawn-out sighs full of pleasure left his lips as his hips with sure, deep, quick thrusts pounded again and again into her hot, fleshy interior.
"− forgive me − I've missed you − oh, my sweetest −" He breathed out, quickening his pace, sinking his nose into her dark curls, her moans muffled by the pillow she was cuddling her face into. Her body, though different, was just as warm, her scent, though different, was similar to hers.
It didn't matter to him, because she was there for him, because she had forgiven him.
"− I love you − oh fuck, Rhaenys −" He muttered, clenching his eyes, coming inside her at last, experiencing such immense relief that he cursed for another moment, rocking his hips inside her. He swallowed hard, worried that she wasn't saying anything, his fingers took strands of her hair from her face wanting to see her eyes and then he saw it.
Green irises, luscious as grass.
"− is it true? − is she carrying your child? −" He heard her voice as if from afar and suddenly he was standing in front of her in his chamber in King's Landing, feeling his heart pounding like mad, a cold sweat running down his back.
He felt a strong gag reflex and held it back with the remnants of his strong will.
He couldn't get anything out of himself.
What had he done?
"− answer me − is she carrying your child? −" His wife, his Rhaenys muttered in a voice breaking with pain and despair, her cheeks red from tears, her eyebrows arched in rage, in her gaze something he feared most.
Disgust.
"− I − I don't know −" He mumbled, trying to remember what had actually happened, how he could have done it when, after all, he had promised himself it would never, never happen.
He thought about how he hadn't touched her in so long, how he had missed her so much.
When she discovered that he had hidden the truth from her, what his grandfather had planned, that he knew what could have happened to them in the Eyrie but hadn't told her, she hadn't slept in his chamber, hadn't eaten supper with him, hadn't spoken to him or looked at him even though he had tried so hard to please her.
"− don't you know? − don't you know if you put your bastard inside her? −" She mumbled and burst out into a loud, miserable sob, hiding her face in her hands − he looked at her, panting hard, shaking all over, not knowing what he was supposed to say, what he was supposed to do.
"− HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!? −" She almost screamed, falling to her knees as if without strength, whining loudly like some kind of animal, her whole being trembling and twitching in convulsions − he approached her quickly, kneeling beside her, trying to touch her, but she pushed him away.
"− my beloved − please − I was possessed by madness, I swear − I − I thought it was you −" He muttered, not knowing how he could explain such a betrayal, such humiliation she suffered because of him.
"− you thought it was me? − you fucked another woman and thought it was me? − gods, Aemond, don't touch me! − don't touch me −" She howled, her voice at once enraged, full of pain, suffering and grief, her eyes red with tears, her whole body quivering.
He was the reason for this.
He had done this to her.
"− my Prince − my Prince, quickly, your wife! −" He heard someone shout – he shuddered as he sat by the fireplace, gazing in horror at the figure of the guard who had rushed into his chamber.
As he stepped out into the corridor he heard someone's loud sobs and screams tearing at his heart; as he ran inside he froze noticing the figure of Rheaenyra kneeling on the floor, covering her mouth with her hand − his wife, and her daughter, was hanging from a rope tied to the frame of her bed, which was tightened around her neck, her dark hair covering her bowed head, her feet not touching the floor.
He ran to her trying to lift her, trying to pull her down, but he knew, felt, that it was too late, her body cold, numb, empty.
His face sank into her flesh covered only by the material of her nightgown muffling his loud, desperate scream.
"Uncle! Uncle, please, wake up!"
He opened his eyes and pulled himself up to sit down, panting heavily, feeling his heart pounding like mad – he could see nothing through the tears that one by one ran down his face, his body twitching all over in convulsions as if it had gone into a state of absolute panic.
"− easy, my love − breathe −" He heard someone's voice beside him, her voice – he looked at her as if he didn't recognise her, her eyes wide in terror, her hand stroking his shoulder reassuringly.
"− Rhaenys − Rhaenys −" He mumbled out like a small child calling out to its mother, bursting into sobs of relief and terror that shook his body − he snuggled into her breast, clasping his fingers on her back so tightly that she hissed in pain – however, she did not push him away and her arms enclosed him in a tight, secure embrace.
"− I'm here, my love − I'm here −" She whispered, again and again placing warm, moist kisses on the top of his head, combing her fingers through his hair.
For a moment he merely wept and quivered, unable to catch his breath, trying to calm himself, listening to her whisper, breathing in her scent, enjoying her closeness, the touch of her hand.
It seemed to him that it was hours before he began to breathe normally, before he realised that all he had seen was just a nightmare, that he was lying with his wife in her bed in Dragonstone.
That all was not yet lost.
He swallowed hard and clenched his eyes shut.
"− there's something − there's something I want to tell you −"
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Is it too late to do this trend or...?
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bg3-stole-my-soul · 2 days
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❤️Tall Fem! Tav x Astarion Headcanons❤️
So— Tall Fem!Tavs— we need more love and I am going to attempt to play with the idea because in fandom spaces I only ever see fem Tavs that are shorter than Astarion and it makes my tall self’s heart ache.
I also know in game it doesn’t matter if your Tav is taller than Astarion…. But like what if it did— 👀
I am going to keep this as racially, background, and class ambiguous as possible however it is very clear the short races like halflings, dwarves, and gnomes this is most certainly not applicable to. I love them, don’t get me wrong, but this is for us 🤌😌
So on that note physically this Tav is tall, muscular, and probably a lil physically intimidating— and like almost every character I write is of Chaotic Good alignment. Tav is a big, sweet, mischievous muscle mommy with big hands—
This is my first time doing a post like this so please be gracious. I did my best to keep this in character for Astarion, while also sweet and mostly focused on his POV.
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Being taller than most of your companions wasn’t a bad thing exactly, just a thing. You had outgrown many of your peers ages ago and while it had embarrassed you for a long time, you eventually embraced it. The stares of others became empowering instead of making you try to shrink yourself in any way you could. However this did not save you from being nabbed by mind flayers and infected— damn. It also surprised you when an elf shorter than you managed to catch you by surprise and hold a knife to your throat.
I don’t think Astarion is the type to be insecure regarding his height, man’s petty enough to climb the counters to the top shelf if he damn well feels like it. However upon meeting a female Tav who’s taller than him, stronger than him, he is ever so slightly worried. It makes him want to spur his plan of manipulation for protection into action quickly. Only because he doesn’t want to run the risk of getting snapped like a toothpick—
On that note, watching you fight absolutely does something to this man. Being able to see your muscles all the way from his perch on the other side of the battlefield is certainly something he can appreciate. He can absolutely admit that you are fine af, especially covered in blood.
At first he would be annoyed if you did things like pat him on the head with your huge hands- after all he puts a lot of work into his hair that he can’t see— but comes to realize it’s your way of gentle support. And he supposes it’s better than other things… Eventually he grows to love you resting your big hands on his head or shoulders. And even further down the line holding your hand, his slender fingers tangled in yours.
When this man chooses to try and bite you in your sleep it is absolutely out of sheer desperation because he is terrified of those arms staking him. But when you accept what he is without any real complaint.. he is pleasantly surprised. He likes you’ve got a good heart in that big chest of yours.
When he gets downed in a fight and wakes up to find himself in your arms being carried back to camp OH BOY that might be the first moment he realizes he’s in trouble.
The next time is absolutely the morning after the tiefling party. He wakes up at the crack of dawn snuggled into your tiddies— and as the old meme states “World hard and cold, tiddy soft and warm”. If he weren’t so excited to bask in the sun he would have stayed there all morning. Post confession it is his favorite way to cuddle.
He believes your arms are the safest place to be, and he is probably right. Being held by you makes him feel like he is surrounded in warmth, and if he sleeps there he usually has less nightmares. Drinking your blood with your arms wrapped around him is genuinely sweet and euphoric for this man.
❤️⚜️❤️⚜️❤️⚜️❤️⚜️❤️⚜️❤️
~ ❤️18+ HEADCANONS BELOW❤️~
He also enjoys the two of you just snuggling and admiring one another’s appearances, it’s intimate, and it feels right. He loves being able to take his time tracing his hands everywhere on your larger body, finding the places that make you laugh and squirm for him.
He also doesn’t mind a little manhandling if it’s from you, because he knows despite your size you will happily let him move you where he wants or stop if he’s no longer comfortable.
Back at the tiefling party he let you top, and while he does enjoy that, he enjoys it just as much if not more when he does. He enjoys getting to look down at you, and see you come undone at his touch. Call it vanilla, but this man loves being able to watch your face during sex, being able to look into your eyes is a BIG thing for this man.
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Submitting my thoughts as an Indian and Pakistani fan of GG, but I'm kinda disappointed that a lot of analysts who cover Zepp don't seem all too concerned with looking closely at aspects of South Asian culture and history or anything outside of India when it comes to Zepp. Yes it is Indian but you can't discuss India and just magically divorce it from shared cultural ties with Pakistan (and by extension Bangladesh, however I am not Bengali and thus can't speak much on it.) For example Gabriel's blue uniform is so clearly based on a veshti combined with the female air force uniform for Pakistan, or that Zepp's symbol is based on the Garuda Commando Forces logo- even the uniforms of said force match much closer to Zepp's uniforms than any stated "inspiration" I've seen. Hell even the slavery system within Zepp is a reflection that our countries still struggle with caste and class based slavery on a much larger scale (it's affected my own lower class family). This isn't even to mention Potemkin who seems much more tied to how Indo-Pak militarism, nationalism, and facism can affect areas like Kashmir. People are quick to call "German and Russian" influences but the only ones I remotely even observe as a brown person are literally just Pot and Gabriel's names. I dunno. It's just vexing to me. Like it's a country made by dissatisfied Indians post-crusades, so the idea that the old government was somehow less south asian is like. Weird to me. Like there's nothing to indicate that other than people conflating out architectural styles with Russian ones too. Like a lot of Zepp seems to resemble Rajasthani and Punjabi (both sides) architecture in particular but I'm just saddened knowing nobody will look that far into it simply because they might not have that same cultural attachment to it.
Side note I'm also not a fan of how Daisuke refuses to give names to Zeppian characters that match with their ethnic background. For every Leon Mining, Gabriel, and Potemkin, we could've gotten like... actual references to our rock and metal scene. Even "Zepp" as the country name dissatisfies me. Creators and fandoms have such a bad habit at making something or acknowledging something as "South Asian" and then refuse to elaborate on it beyond a few visuals. It feels gauche.
Something something the prevalence of ki not being touched upon for any of South Asia / Zepp by extension within GG is also a major annoyance when we share a lot of faith based aspects with regions like China and Japan.
This has been kinda long winded but holy shit fighting games really just annoy me sometimes with how they treat South Asia as a whole. I just feel it very strongly with GG in particular since Daisuke was very close to peak. So close. I will say he clearly put in a lot of effort that non-south asians probably wouldn't recognize at a first glance, but the smaller details surrounding Zepp and some of the assumptions made about Zepp fandom wise combine into a "nobody will get it like I do" situation.
It's genuinely very cool to see someone's perspective and analysis on it who has more experience and understanding than most western gamers. I appreciate you sharing!
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deception-united · 3 days
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Hello! I've been enjoying your writing posts a lot. Here's my question: How do you exactly write a character profile? Getting one from the internet feels like feeling out a resume, but trying to create one myself leaves me hanging in with the question “what should I be putting here?”
Thanks for asking! Crafting a character profile can indeed feel like navigating a nebulous space, but it's a crucial step in fleshing out your characters and getting to know them better. Here's a breakdown of what you might include:
Basic Information: Start with the essentials - name, age, gender, and any other pertinent demographic details.
Physical Description: Provide a brief overview of what your character looks like. This could include height, build, hair color, eye color, distinguishing features (scars, tattoos, etc.), and typical clothing choices.
Personality Traits: Think about your character's temperament, quirks, strengths, weaknesses, likes, dislikes, and any notable personality traits. Are they introverted or extroverted? Optimistic or pessimistic? Adventurous or cautious?
Background: Delve into your character's backstory. Where were they born? What was their upbringing like? Do they have any significant life events that have shaped who they are today?
Motivations and Goals: What does your character want? What are their ambitions, desires, and fears? Understanding what drives your character can add depth to their actions and decisions within your story.
Relationships: Explore your character's connections with others. Who are their family members, friends, enemies, or love interests? How do these relationships influence your character's actions and emotions?
Skills and Abilities: What is your character good at? What are their areas of expertise? Do they have any special talents or abilities that set them apart?
Character Arc: Consider how your character will change and grow throughout your story. What obstacles will they face, and how will they overcome them? What lessons will they learn along the way?
Internal Conflicts: What internal struggles does your character grapple with? These could be doubts, fears, moral dilemmas, or unresolved traumas.
External Conflicts: What external challenges does your character face? These could be adversaries, societal pressures, or environmental obstacles.
Another thing I like to do is find an online personality test, like 16Personalities or Truity, and fill it out on behalf of my character. Both the process and the results can give further insight. Websites such as Campfire have full character profiles that you can complete. Or try filling out this character ask game!
Remember, this is just a starting point, and you can tailor your character profile to fit your specific needs and preferences (e.g., fighting style, fantastical conditions, supernatural abilities, character archetypes, interpersonal values, leadership style, phobias, habits, etc.). Feel free to add or omit sections as necessary, and don't be afraid to let your characters surprise you as you write!
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ferretseal · 1 day
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Looking for DND artists!!
I'm planning a campaign, and I'm putting out feelers for someone to draw a few major characters for it!
Possibly 9-12 character full bodies, no shading or backgrounds necessary. Must be able to draw armor, weapons, animals, DND races, and possibly intricate clothes, as well as having flexible payment plans and ability to work with multiple different kinds of references that aren't true reference sheets(I have sketches, and heroforge minis, as well as descriptions and Pinterest finds). I'm hoping to also stay within a budget less than $250 total, but I'm more willing to have a higher cost with payment plans.
Again just putting out feelers, I'm hoping to have more of the campaign planned before getting any characters done.
If you're interested in it, DO NOT PM ME. Just repost with prices and examples. Thanks.
Edit: I asked for a repost simply so I can compare art and find what I like and what is best for the campaign. At the moment I'm just putting out feelers, so I won't be choosing an artist for a little while, maybe a few months, because I have to get the campaign closer to a playable level.
So if you pm me, you will not be considered. Because first off it tells me you did not read my post in its entirety and that could be an issue if I chose you, as well as it personally feels more pushy and urgent when I get a pm.
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whatwooshkai · 1 day
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THOUGHTS ON THE TRANSFORMERS ONE TRAILER
had to take a while to get it together, but here we go:
-the voice acting: is okay. chris hemsworth is not a voice actor and it's glaringly apparent, for me that first scene loses some of its charm because of the awkward delivery. the rest of the voice acting is okay, nothing stellar, keegan michael key is doing a great job as usual, and it's not going to ruin the movie for me
-the animation: gorgeous. faces are kinda uncanny valley but the backgrounds??? the fact that they look kinda like the toys??? the way they move??? very very pretty, very very good. however, they did not give orion finials and that makes me mad. perfect personality for expressive kibble and they didn't do it
-CYBERTRON!!!!! I cannot wait to explore this planet. all sorts of different biomes, the mechanimals, the foliage?????? dude I'm already in love
-the characterizations: I like them! I cannot wait to see kicked puppy D-16 evolve into assertive and aggressive megatron. peppy and excitable orion pax into gentle and quiet optimus prime. GIVE ME THE SPIRAL
-bumblebee: idk I think they should've gone with someone else. I was hoping they'd add a new face or someone we haven't seen for a while, and when his character was introduced in the trailer my first thought was hot rod??? because that's the personality. I mean I can get behind it but I'd think they'd pick someone who's a lifelong friend of op's...
-THE QUINTESSONS???? I can't wait
-I'm not opposed to the lighthearted tone, obviously this is the first movie and takes place before the war, so it's going to be lighter. What I'm hoping for in the movie is for shit to get real and I wouldn't mind an unhappy ending
-I hope the humor is better in context
-I'm going to see it. it seems like they put a lot of work into it and while I'm apprehensive I'm excited for what this movie will be
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purlty23 · 2 days
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blue! just saw your post abt religious rhetoric & the fandom. do you have any specific instances or "takes" you could give us that youve seen? i know for myself peronally i have very little knowledge on religion as a whole, and could always stand to learn something ♡
Hello crow!!! Always a joy to see you in my notifs<3 Tbh, I’m not an expert either! I’ve only very recently in the past few years gained a big appreciation for theology of all sorts. Ghost was a huge part of the motivation for it, too. Most of the reading I’ve done has been though online resources. Here’s my personal library of PDFs! You can find the Satanic Bible, Greater and Lesser Keys of Solomon, and loads more (plus some misc fiction) I would say the biggest thing that I see in fan interpretations of Ghost and Ministry lore is confusing Catholic virtues with Satanic ones. I’m going to disregard a lot of modern Satanism for the sake of the fantasy lore that Ghost has here, since a lot of modern Satanism isn’t actually even related to religious worship of Satan as a figure, but of the values he as a character has held throughout time. Modern Satanism, especially Laveyan Satanism, is more about worship of the self. Ghost is really interesting because it puts Satanism into the same state of popularity as Catholicism in its lore. Imagine if the Vatican was Satan themed instead. That big. However, some people tend to act as if that means it holds the same values or rules as Catholicism, which simply isn’t true. Ghost Satanism falls more into old classical Satanism (devil worship, summoning, magicks, etc etc), which means it likely does ascribe to the biblical story, same as Catholics do but on the opposite side. While Catholics repent and avoid sin, those who follow the religion in Ghost would STRIVE for sin, and encourage those kinds of actions in order to appease Satan and grow chaos, disorder, and ruin throughout humanity. Where Catholicism has made a name for itself through fear, shame, and the threat of exocommunication, the Ministry would likely value confidence, doing what it takes to reach your goals, and the uglier sides of human nature. Classical Satanism is a bloody affair, after all Of course, all of this can differ depending on how you see the plot of Ghost. Does the Ministry value these things, and if they do, do they act on it? Was Sister’s murder of the Papas in line with these values, and if not, are there newer ideas of what’s pious under Copia’s reign? It’s difficult to say, but one thing can be said for sure.
Ghouls would not abide by these values. By any values but their own, likely. Demons and the undead aren’t known for being particularly good at following rules TL;DR: When puritan culture and ways of thinking derived from shame, religiously motivated fear, and doing the ‘right’ thing are placed onto these characters it doesn’t really make sense. It’s important to ask yourself where your thoughts are coming from, especially if you’ve been raised in a highly religious background. (In fact it’s important to ask yourself where ALL thoughts and opinions you have come from in order to fight bias, societal constructs, and ESPECIALLY prejudices against others and against even yourself)
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pi224guy · 2 days
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Back at it with the OC's, but it's actually planned through & put together. ^^
Background Info:
The boy in the cassette is Monoceros. His listener is 'Rebel', which is basically my version of Angel's real name being Angel (IT'S A HEADCANON, OBVIOUSLY.) or Darlin' going by Tank from the pack/close friends. Monoceros is a serenity d(a)emon who forgot to wipe the memory of his human charge. (Mind you... he's not used to having any sort of charge)
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Blehhh, Okay. So, I don't draw. I have tried, but I'm in the progress of learning how. (You can tell by the way I drew Sam in a previous post) But... I really wanted to *MAKE DESIGNS* for my characters, so heres the character designs in gacha bc WHY NOT! ^^
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The Blonde: Rebel (she/her, bisexual, human, & listener)
Man with dreads: Monoceros when he uses illusion magic to blend in AKA look human. (he/they, queer, & serenity daemon)
Ed Sheeran: Dodge AKA the antagonist of the story (he/him, straight, & human born fire elm)
AND HERES THE LINK TO THE TIMELINE I HAVE DEVELOPED SO FAR!!
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koichi-nomura · 3 days
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You mentioned absolutely adoring "Ask Her A Question" from My Fair Hatey for a lot of reasons. Was that partially exaggeration, or do you actually have an analysis to dish out?
Much love!
Yeah definitely some exaggeration lol and it’s basically just the sound of it, I adore all the songs on there but judging purely by how they sound, (not the narrative purpose) of all of them that one’ my favorite.
Voice acting is incredibly important to me, across all my favorite shows that’s the first thing I think about, I’m obsessed with line delivery and with identifying voices (I pride myself in being the best out of my siblings at identifying who’s voice it is first lol), so the main thing for me really is that Wander has my favorite voice in the series, his singing is so nice and it’s interesting how (for this song at least) he doesn’t do it with a lot of volume or anything, it’s relatively calm for him. He’s half-singing half-talking too and his line delivery is amazing. You can hear the giddiness in his voice at some parts, he does it so well lol. And his accent and the inflections he puts on certain words I love it. Namely his “ab-out:”
I can’t explain why I’m so interested in voices (probably just autism again) but along with comedy, art, and animation it’s one of my favorite things.
I’ don’t know a ton about music other than “this sounds good to me, this doesn’t” but I’m still very opinionated on it, my enjoyment of music tends to be more based on unique singing voices and variability in the music. Some cartoons have very lazy, uninteresting soundtracks and Wander is definitely not one of them, even if you’re talking about just the normal soundtracks, not the songs. it’s great how each if the main characters have their own background themes and even some sung theme songs lol. I can’t tell you what I like about specifically the music of “Ask Her a Question” I just know that I really like it.
In a narrative sense it’s obviously fun seeing Wander’s philosophy on romance and watching Hater go along with it lol. For the story overall I think it’s meant to be pretty significant that Hater would be interested in someone else enough to ask about their opinions, we saw how terrible he was on “The Date”.
The animation is visually interesting as usually with a lot of great stretching from Wander.
This is also my favorite kind of musical; “everyone knows they’re signing” instead of “nobody’s actually singing, they’re just conveying the emotions and storytelling through song for the audience’s eyes only.”
Woy in general is just exemplifies all the ways I would love to do things if I could create a cartoon;
The music is spectacular, so is the voice acting, the voice actors can sing instead of needing stand-in singers, the character designs are so recognizable, I love everyone’s names (‘Major Threat’ is such stupid and funny wordplay lol), the characterization is so good and interesting for everyone (infinitely kind characters are my favorite tho) the comedy is great and I like a lot of the gags but what’s especially great is the character-driven comedy; jokes that are funny just because the characters have funny personalities and interactions. The animation is spectacular too, I’m usually not at all a fan of flash animation but they utilize it in such a way that I didn’t used to know it was flash, the squash and stretch they do with the characters is so fun and interesting without looking grotesque or unappealing, they just look silly (there’s so many moments where it’s too fast to really get a grasp on what’s happening and if you look at it frame by frame it’s super impressive).
Sorry for rambling, this is what happens when I get questions and no character limit, much love back!! :]
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codename-mom · 3 days
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Cookie jar
Summary: The team is on the field without Hotch who's on a leave for some days, but they have to call him anyway. Suddenly, something happens and everybody worry about Jack.
Characters: BAU team and Jack Hotchner
Contents: TW a child is hurt (but everything is fine) and a tiny bit of angst because can't be anything else but anxious.
This is a text written for the KidFic CM challenge organized by @imagining-in-the-margins.
PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.
___
The team had gathered in the room the police had assigned them – a cubbyhole, so to speak, cluttered with cardboard boxes and mops – and Derek dialed Hotch's cell phone number. The latter was on leave for a few days. His men were reluctant to call him when he did, so that he could enjoy his time away from Quantico to the full, but they had no choice. The first clues found in the field echoed those of an old case the director and Jason Gideon had worked on in the past. As the latter had vanished into thin air, they could only contact the former.
He picked up after several rings.
“Hotch?”
“One moment, he stopped him on the spot. Jack, I said no. I’m coming back.”
Morgan had put his phone on speaker so that everyone could follow the conversation, and so they all heard the TV gradually fading away, until it was almost muffled. They imagined he must have gone to his bedroom, or some other room where he could close the door behind him.
“What's the matter?” he asked, in an annoyed tone.
“Sorry to bother you,” apologized Emily, trying to appease him.
It wasn't certain that this impromptu call was the cause of his irritation, but if in doubt, it was best to try and smooth things over.
“Tell me,” he ordered, his intonation unchanged.
“We've potentially got a resurrected serial killer,” the ex-policeman attested.
“If I tell you: branding on the shoulder, chains on the ankles and whipping. Does it speak to you?” went on Dave, next to him.
A silence passed, during which he had to return to his memories.
“… Yes, but the culprit was sentenced to life.”
“Actually, he passed away last month, Derek clarified. But the last victim was killed on Monday.”
“His accomplice was released for good behavior last year, but his file disappeared, Prentiss explained from across the table. Can you remember his name?”
“I imagine you've already searched the digital archives for this information.”
“Affirmative, confirmed Penelope, who had come with them for the occasion. And there’s nothing. The guy just disappeared.”
The agency manager fell silent again. For a long time. The profilers stared at each other, tense.
“Hotch?” impatiently asked Morgan.
“Just a moment, I'm trying to remember, thundered his superior. His name was… De…”
A loud crash and a breaking glass could be heard in the background, and everyone froze as the giant shouted:
“Jack!”
A door opened and footsteps moved away from the handset. Clearly, the giant had left his phone behind. Tension gripped the whole group, their senses on the alert and their hearts pounding against their ribs. 
“Did we kill tiny-Hotch?” moaned Garcia, on the verge of tears.
In the distance, the voice of the father calling his son made them fear the worst. Then the little boy started screaming at the top of his lungs, and everyone shuddered.
“Apparently not,” ironized Emily, who wasn't putting up much more of a fight than her colleagues.
“What do I do? wondered Derek, unsettled by the situation. I hang up?”
“Maybe he'll come back to us,” Spencer stated uncomfortably.
“I don't think so,” objected JJ, listening intently to the distant din.
“Why?”
“This is clearly the cry of a child in real pain.”
As the only mother in the unit, they trusted her judgment without a hesitation.
“Well, maybe I'll hang up now,” voiced Morgan, ready to press the button.
“Wait,” advised Rossi.
Jack was still crying loudly, perhaps a little quieter than a few moments earlier, but more importantly, they noticed that the sound was now moving. And he grew weaker and weaker until he disappeared completely.
“It sounded a lot like a door slamming,” Prentiss claimed, her eyebrows furrowing.
“You can hang up now,” Dave confirmed.
Derek obeyed sighing. He hadn't expected such a turn of events and now felt guilty about what had just happened. He knew the kid a little and he was always delighted to see him, his eyes shining with admiration every time. Like his counterparts, he didn't know what had occurred, but feared that something grave had happened, which would leave neither the child nor its progenitor unscathed.
“It could have been worse,” pointed out JJ.
Everyone looked at her, bewildered.
“Are you kidding? Retorted the brunette. I don't know what’s going on, but it's serious enough that Hotch left with him.”
“Yes, but Jack was crying.”
“So what?” inquired Morgan, confused.
“That means he was conscious,” Reid attested confidently.
The man who had taken over the leadership of the team when Aaron was absent took a long breath and ordered his peers to get back to work in spite of everything. They worked with this question in the back of their minds: how was Jack doing? Based on the thin clue left by their superior, they searched, groped, and modified their profile until they found a certain Denis Porter, who turned out to be their unsub. All this in record time. Since they were in the neighboring state, they returned to the Quantico offices while it was still daylight. Immediately, the worry that had been nagging them all came back to mind, and synchronously, they looked at their phones. None of them had received a message, which didn't reassure them at all.
“Penelope, do you have any way of knowing which hospital he was admitted to?” inquired JJ.
“Why do you ask? teased her colleague, who immediately took to her keyboard. I'll do it right away, my little ones.”
She typed the toddler's first and last names into her search engine and the result appeared almost instantly on her screen. All gathered around the analyst in her colorful lair, they read the information at the same time.
“Let's go,” commanded Emily, leading the way.
A few minutes later, they jumped in two Bureau SUVs and headed for downtown Washington DC, following the itinerary on their GPS. They parked quickly and hurried to the reception desk. The nurse behind the counter was somewhat surprised to see the herd arrive, armed and determined, but was reassured to see Derek's warm smile. She directed them to the pediatric emergency room on the other side of the building. Together, they made their way through the corridors until they reached another admissions department, where they were given the room number.
They shared a similar fear at this moment. They dreaded discovering the state of the youngster and prayed the titan wasn’t ready to drop again. He'd already suffered enough; he didn't deserve to be in even worse shape. Morgan didn't have the courage to knock on the door, which was ajar but not wide enough for them to see what was going on inside. Rossi did it for him.
“Knock, knock!”
“Come in,” Hotch reacted, in his usual tone.
They took a few steps and saw the boy lying on a bed, in a hospital gown, his head turbaned, but grinning from ear to ear. His father was sitting in a chair on the other side of the bed, and a brief chuckle lifted the corner of his lips. Relieved, all the agents took Jack in their arms one after the other – except Spencer, who simply banged his fist against his. The girls added a kiss on his cheek and told him he was very brave. The effusive reunion over, Aaron declared:
“Denis Porter.”
“Yes, we found him,” Dave replied, squeezing his shoulder.
“Good.”
He didn't have the expression of someone satisfied with their work. He still looked distressed.
“What happened?” said JJ, asking aloud the question they'd all been asking themselves.
“Mister wanted a cookie. I pointed out to him that it wasn't the right time, but he waited until my back was turned to take one.”
“And?” bounced Prentiss.
“Well, he had his cookie. A lot of cookies. And the jar itself.”
The adults' gaze swiveled towards the injured boy, who gave them his best little rascal smile. He had no regrets about what he'd done. Some of the visitors felt sorry for him, once again showering him with hugs, while the others shook their heads in disappointment.
“Concussion?” continued JJ.
“It’s what we’re waiting to see. He has been under observation since 3:30 p.m.”
They reflexively glanced at their watches. He had been here for almost three hours.
“He looks okay, Derek remarked as he sat down on the bed next to him. Right, buddy?”
“Yeah.”
“Tomorrow you'll be a hero at school,” affirmed Rossi, leaning against the bedposts.
“Yeah!” exulted Jack, proudly.
“Because he took a cookie jar to the forehead?” judged Emily, eyebrows furrowed.
“Scars,” Reid whispered, in a tone of obviousness.
“… Guys...” sighed the three women in unison, as they saw the same victorious expression on the faces of their male comrades.
Someone knocked on the door and a nurse entered, a little disconcerted to see so many people in the room.
“Mr. Hotchner?”
“Yes,” responded the interested party, rising to his feet.
“Can you come with me for a moment?”
Instinctively, he turned to his offspring and met his irises.
“We'll look after him, Hotch, Penelope reassured him, having grasped the source of his apprehension. Go.”
His teammates nodded in support, and Aaron very gently kissed his son on his bandaged forehead before leaving the room. Without them needing to ask, the hero of the day began to tell them all about his adventures, dwelling on unimportant details, forgetting the end of some of his sentences to go back and move on to something else, and surely exaggerating certain facts. All this with boundless energy and plenty of grand gestures that definitely appeased them about his state of health.
However, Morgan saw the nurse pass by again in the other direction out of the corner of his eye and was puzzled not to see Hotch reappear immediately afterwards. He waited a little longer, in vain. He apologized to his fellows and returned to the corridor. He discovered the giant a few yards away, leaning against the wall, a document in his hand. His pupils turned towards the ground, he seemed lost. Derek felt a vise tighten around his throat. What if…?
“Trouble?”
“What? gasped the manager, rudely jolted from his thoughts. No. This is the exit voucher. Everything is fine.”
The former policeman relaxed.
“So why the long face?”
The agency head lowered his nose, dodging his gaze, before sighing. Then he lifted his chin and turned his dark irises on him.
“… How did your mother do it?”
“To what?” he reacted, taken aback by this private question.
“To raise three children on her own into perfect adults.”
He couldn't help but burst out laughing, even though his interlocutor had spoken very seriously. At least he understood why he looked so downcast when all the indicators were green. As usual, the ex-prosecutor scourged himself for not having been able to protect a loved one, when there was no reason to do so.
“I'm not sure she'd say that,” he joked to lighten the mood.
“You arrest serial killers and, from what I've seen, your sisters don't seem to be into organized crime.”
Seen like that, indeed, his mother had done a very good job of keeping them on the straight and narrow. But that didn't mean the road wasn't full of bumps.
“Hotch, what happened was an accident, as it happens in every family in the world. I did the same stunt when I was a kid and, obviously, I'm fine.”
It was the truth. He himself had taken a tin of candy on the corner of his skull when he was a little older than the director's son. He had climbed onto a chair and then onto the kitchen counter before stretching out to grab the object of his desire, which his mother had placed as high up in the room as possible. In the end, he found himself in the emergency room with a huge lump on his forehead. The images were no longer so clear in his mind, but he still remembered his mother's concern as she brought him unconscious to the hospital. The same expression of anguish and guilt appeared on his neighbor's face.
“Hotch, Jack's moving, he's talking, and he's got clearance to get out of here. So, everything is okay.”
“Then why do I feel like the worst father in the world?” he retorted, not daring to look up.
He almost replied that it was because he had very low self-esteem, but restrained himself to give him a more consensual, but no less correct answer.
“You were scared for him, it’s normal.”
“But it's not just that, he despaired, peeling himself away from the wall to walk down the corridor. I constantly asking for help. To Jessica, to Haley’s mother, to my own mother… even JJ. I’m incapable of taking care of him all by myself.”
Morgan was touched despite himself by the disarray of his opposite, who was still struggling to adapt to his new life as a single father. Not being in his situation, he couldn't really give him advice, but could always try to make him see reason.
“Hotch, I think all parents ask other people for help. My mother would ask other women in the neighborhood for advice, and some of them would even babysit us. Your mother must have done the same thing, JJ does and I'm pretty sure Haley did too. You're no more incapable than anyone else.”
He and his sisters had spent entire afternoons and weekends at their aunts' so that their mother could work or simply have time for herself, and none of her children had had the audacity to reproach her in any way.
“… I wish I could be as sure as you are.”
Derek rolled his eyes and held back from kicking his butt. His propensity for only seeing the glass as half empty annoyed him to no end, but he tempered his urge to strangle him by reminding himself that the context wasn't helping either. So, he chose a gentler method.
“Does Jack smile?”
“What?” exclaimed Aaron, raising his nose.
“Do you see Jack smiling?”
“Yes.”
“Laugh?”
“Yes.”
“Does he tell you he loves you? Without you having to tell him beforehand or giving him something he wanted?”
“Yes.”
“So, everything is good.”
The giant analyzed the exchange they had just had, and his subordinate saw his features gradually relax. He fixed his gaze in his again and, with a pale smile, said:
“… Thank you.”
Morgan's lips stretched warmly, and he laid a hand on his shoulder in return. The two men then went to the little boy's room, where his father told him the good news.
___
This idea jumped in my head after my first watch of season 5 and this dialogue between Derek and Hotch, where Derek has decided to write his own report to leave more free time for him to take care of Jack (because he knows what it is to be a single parent).
That scene was so cute, that I needed to imagine another peaceful moments between the two of them. Because we all know that they appreciate each other more than they will confess it. Because boys are boys...
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midnightmah07 · 1 day
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What’s your favorite thing about ruggie
Oh my goodness I LOVE THIS QUESTIONNNNNN UH I THINK–
There's like so many things I absolutely love about his character AHHHH– if I must choose a few is just how family oriented he is? I myself am very family oriented so it warms my heart to see someone in this game having the same heart towards family as I do! I don't think most people notice, but just stop a little to notice how fondly he speaks of his grandma, how caring and brotherly he sounds when talking about the kids in his neighborhood... He's just🥹 I love that about him!! And I'm so certain if his mama survived he'd be a mama's boy exactly like Deuce is<33
I also love how hardworking he is! I struggle a lot working for the things I want in life because I tend to feel lazy and procrastinate a lot to the point that it became my norm and it's very hard for me to stop being like that bc of how used I am to this,,, so I just really admire hardworking people and people who have a goal and are super determined to reach it!! Like I wish I was like this!! (and I want to try to be!) I love that how despite everyone putting him down because of his background and the fact that he's a hyena beastmen and despite his situation he still wants to be better!! To give a better life for his granny and for him himself to live comfortably!!! It's just!!! I love him!!! Like he's not just money or food obsessed for nothing there's a clear reason why he's like that!!!
Sorry I went on a tangent🤧 there's so so many other things I adore about Ruggie but I. Should probably shut up. Lskdodjs ty for asking honey!!
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forgettable-au · 6 months
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In case you're curious this is all art related to my AU!
Art/mini comics dump
Papyrus does NOT like hotland, something about that place really gets on his nerves...
Second one is just based on a crack comic I made when I FIRST made this au lmao, wanted to redraw it and post it. It's not serious at all
Then some concept art:D
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 3 months
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Welcome to the Dungeons of Fear and Hunger.
#Fear and Hunger#D'arce Cataliss#Cahara#Ragnvaldr#Enki Ankarian#Unlike Dungeon Meshi - I cannot in good faith recommend this game to a broad audience.#My background with F&H goes as follows: I am hanging out with a friend. He says “hey try this game I've been playing.” I say “Okay!”#I have never heard of this game. I pick the mercenary. I go through 5 min of character history and background. I am mauled to death by dogs#It took me 4 resets to even get in the dungeon. But I finally get there. I am caught by a guard. He cuts off all but one of my limbs#I am forced to crawl around in a blood and corpse pit until the game tells me 'give up idiot'.#I reset. I am mauled by dogs again. I realize this is not for me but I am intrigued enough to go home and watch some playthroughs#And WOW what an interesting game it is! I really do appreciate games that blend their design philosophy with the theme it wants to set#This is a game about fear and hunger. And persevering. And penis (my god is there a lot of penis)#I recommend this to people who like extremely challenging games and can handle the many *content warnings* within this series#If the idea of Bloodborne/eldenring and undertale having a little RPG maker baby sounds appealing to you - give it a shot#It's made by ONE GUY and it's a great horror game. I am just really bad at it.#My friends just enjoy putting me in situations where I scream and yell. We don't talk about the corn mazes. Or the other horror game nights#Apparently I'm funny when I'm Scared!#As people who follow me on twitter might know; I am deep in the pits of this series right now. I will be back with more art.
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hellspawnmotel · 7 months
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remember when I did this?
well I did more
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