#guide my path (dash memes)

[norel-ravenclaw]

Bite Me~

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Featured characters: demon!Adam (briefly), Alastor x gn reader

Genre: Fluff and spice with a dash of crack

Word count: 1100

Description: This was just going to be a funny little scene I thought of. But then you gremlins said I should turn up the spice, so here we are 😂 Just a little Halloween-ish themed romantic tease for the first day of October.

WARNINGS: | gender neutral reader | Adam is his own warning 😅 | biting written by someone who hates biting, but Alastor gave me puppy dog eyes so here we are | reader has depression, which Alastor helps alleviate 🩶 | brief joke about dying | cursing | aro/ace spectrum Al basically based on my own experience |

Adam tromps down the hall and bumps into you. “This place sucks ass. Ugh. Why don’t you loosen up, sugar tits? We could have some fun in this awful joint.”

You stop and turn towards him, tempted to teleport him to the top of a building and drop him off~ But you resist the temptation. A feat that should make you worthy of ascension in and of itself.

“You are abrasive, ignorant, brash. And yet despite your narcissism, I almost wonder… if you are somewhat capable of loving. Not well, I imagine. But I’m starting to wonder if that is the reason I can’t hate you.”

He gives you an expression that would make a fantastic meme. “…The fuck??”

You cut him off by stepping close, taking his chin between your fingers as you contemplate, muttering. “Hm, I’m sure just a little...”

And with that, you turn and walk off. Alastor materialises from the shadows (so he could get downstairs without crossing Adam’s path).

Matching your pace, he leans in for the tea. “What were you talking about, chèr? Perhaps a little what?”

You bite your lip, glancing at him briefly before leaning in, hesitating twice before quickly whispering, “Psychic vampirism. He’s so energetic he’ll never notice if I take just a little.”

Embarrassed and trying to shake it off, you quickly walk away, leaving Alastor laughing his ass off.

He catches up with you in a swirl of shadow, linking arms as he wipes away tears. “Oh you never cease to surprise me my dear. I love the way you think sometimes!”

Seeing him smiling genuinely, the dim red light of hell’s sky illuminating the window behind him, your heart swells. Stopping, you glance at his cane.

“What is it?”

You smile at him and reach out for the cane. “May I?”

Raising a brow but trusting of you, he offers it to you. With a swirl of magic, you set it to the side, conjuring up a cosy illusion of a little hallway-sized 1920’s ballroom. Your favourite electric swing song begins playing, the perfect mix of yours and Alastor’s personalities.

Reaching out a hand, you bow to him. “May I have this dance?”

His eyes gleam with undisguised delight. “I would love to, darling~”

You spin together through the narrow hall, cheerful music guiding Alastor’s steps, in turn guiding your own. But your… friend(?) knows you better these days.

“Now now, chèr, what’s wrong? There’s a hitch in your smile.”

Your eyes widen and you sigh. “I can’t hide anything from you, mm? I’m fine, just a normal bout of blues.”

He grins at you, whispering conspiratorially. “Would psychic vampirism help?”

You chuckle. “Sadly no.” Leaning in close, the height difference between you offers you perfect access to his neck. Teasingly, you murmur a couple inches away from his collar. “I have to feed off of people’s happiness the old fashioned way.”

Not wanting him to feel crowded, you pull back just as quickly.

But oh… it’s too late. A blush creeps up Alastor’s face, his steps only staying true from sheer muscle memory.

Noticing his sudden mood change, you open your mouth to apologise, but just as quickly, he stops dancing and puts both hands on your waist.

“Alastor?”

His pupils are blown wide. “…Would you bite me?”

You blink and stare at him, blindsided by the question. “…Is that rhetorical or are you asking me to?”

He shifts his weight from one foot to another, licking his lips. “Admittedly this is a most bizarre urge, but I’d be obliged if you could consider it a favour between friends.”

Your mouth gapes and you can only repeat the words. “Y-you want me to bite you… as a favour between friends?”

Eyes never leaving yours, he slowly backs you to the wall. “Will you?”

“…I can’t hurt you, Al.”

He leans an arm against the wall behind you, giving you access to his neck. “Just a little, my dear. Please.”

Well. There goes the easy, uncomplicated friendship.

You grip his lapel with one hand, the other threading into his hair, tilting his head back a little more. He growls deep in his throat as you tentatively open your mouth and softly press your teeth to his skin.

Like you’re indulging an oral fixation, you alternate between pressing your teeth in and sucking softly, and lightly worrying them over a patch of skin a few times before… hesitantly kissing and licking away the pain.

Your heart pounds. What the hell is this?? Is this even what he meant?? But he’s making the most wonderful noises as you work across his neck.

Oh yeah, forget throwing Adam off a building, you’re not sure whether you want to jump off one yourself to avoid the complications of this, or stand up there and shout in excitement.

The hand on your waist grips you harder as you move to his throat. He hisses and sighs with every new nip you give him.

Your nails lightly scratch his scalp as you move to the other side of his neck, but suddenly he grabs your hand and pulls it down to his chest.

You stare at each other for a heated second before he leans in close. Unfamiliar with such things with him, you reflexively move back. Seeing your hesitation, his gaze softens a bit, dropping a kiss to the corner of your mouth before kissing you properly.

“You didn’t even draw blood,” he says, and you can’t tell whether he’s complaining or just in awe of your gentle nature.

“Was it not what you wanted?”

Another kiss is pressed to your lips, both answer and punishment for questioning.

“So… between friends…?”

“You’re an idiot.” He puts both hands on either side of your face and kisses you more deeply.

The song finishes for the third time, leaving you in silence briefly, and only then do you remember that it’s been playing this whole time.

“…Your idiot?”

His smirk is dazzling. “Damn right~” As though nothing has happened, he fixes his collar and frees you from his caging. “Now, you’re going to show me how this whole psychic vampirism thing works.”

“What, now?”

“Yes. Consider it the second favour I owe you.”

When he takes his cane back from its place propped against the opposite wall, the illusion and song fade. He straightens his coat and holds a hand out to you.

His eyes are softer than you’ve ever seen them, and only you would recognise the faint colour still in his cheeks. “Maybe I can use those favours to reciprocate for you somehow.”

You feel a bit dazed as you take his hand, heart still racing. But his own smile is radiant, his step light as he takes you down the hall.

…Maybe you won’t need to steal energy for a while.

[crimencia]

Hello! Here's some preliminary info for Elincia.

Elincia comes from about a year or so after the events of Radiant Dawn (of course, about four-ish years after Path of Radiance), in which she has continued to rule justly as Crimea's queen. For now, she is following her solo ending (so no marriage to Geoffrey, but I'm not closed off to that ship with the proper chem).

She is a Golden Deer instructor that specializes in Flying and Faith (with a little Sword on the side), having come to Garreg Mach to help guide a new generation of young nobles, using her experience as Crimea's princess and queen to help them come to terms with their future responsibility.

And that's about it! I look forward to trying her out with you guys.

(Mun guidelines below the cut!)

Guidelines

Tagging & Posts

The only thing I would need tagged involves mentions of heavy drug use, but other than that, I’m good with whatever! And if you’d like ME to tag anything? Please let me know.

My post formatting is minimal at best. I use both small and regular text, depending on what my partner’s preference is. I’ll always be happy to match, for accessibility purposes.

Shipping

I will not engage in sexual NSFW content on dash.

As for shipping, I am open to testing things with sufficient chemistry and ooc communication! I don’t like to force ships, nor is romance a priority for me. Elincia is interested in men and women, and since she is 22, I would prefer any ship partners to be within that age range. (18 and up, generally; no students.)

For any ask memes that involve shipping, I will always consider them AUs, unless stated otherwise.

Asks

Perfectly okay with unprompted asks! I only ask for your patience if it takes me a bit to respond to them. Life, and all.

[soulsdrawn-test]

#       𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐕𝐍𝐄    .    independent  and  original  multimuse.  slow  activity.  individuals  below  the  age  of  21  /  personals  please  don’t  interact  !  dash  exclusive.  crafted  by  cassie  (  she  /  her,  29  years  )     blog  is  currently  under  co  .

current graphics used were made by @calirphs ! affiliated with @startold. ৎ୭

OPEN  STARTERS  .        /        MEMES .        /        FACES .

QUICK  GUIDE  .        the  basic  roleplay  etiquette  applies  !  although  this  blog  will  contain  mature,  dark  and  sensitive  content,  i  also  adore  the  usual  slices  of  lifes,  angst  and  all  things  romantic.  nonetheless,  mun  and  muses  need  to  be  at  least  21  years  old  in  order  to  interact.

001.      i  prefer  to  use  small  text,  double  spacing,  some  bolds  and  italics,  paired  with  medium  sized  gifs.i  understand  that  this  isn’t  accessible  for  everyone  and  i’m  always  willing  to  change  things  up  upon  request.  <3

002.        all  of  my  muses  are  multi-ship  and  available  through  multiple  and  various  versus  ;  most  of  them  can  be  thrown  into  any  setting  and  i’m  happy  and  eager  to  explore  various  dynamics  and  relationships  with  them.

003.        i’m  very  selective  with  writing  explicit  smut  and  prefer  teasing,  fading  to  black  and  skipping.  banned  however  are  racism,  bestiality,  straight  up  hate  towards  a  minority  and  women,  as  well  as  non-consensual  actions.  incest  or  sexual  relations  between  step  or  adoptive  related  are  also  strictly  banned.  banned  faceclaims  include  the  deceased,  minors  and  known  abusers.  i’m  also  not  too  fond  of  the  following  faces  :  timothee  chalamet,  nicola  peltz  and  jon  bernthal.

THE  MUSES  ,  primarily.  

JAVIER  MORALES    ⸻      the  chameleon,  con  artist  and  thief.  utterly  charming,  smart  and  flirtatious.  his  victims  are  one  of  the  highest  paid,  millionaires.  he  does  not  intend  to  hurt  less  fortunate  people,  but  it  happens.  doesn’t  show  remorse,  but  he’s  not  heartless  at  all.  (  pedro  pascal,  he  /  him  pronouns,  bisexual,  in  his  forties  )

MAYA  SANCAR      ⸻      call  center  employee,  part  time  waitress  and  self  claimed  fashion  lover.  confident,  life-loving  and  sarcastic  ;  a  dangerous  mix  if  not  treated  well.  doe  eyed,  curly  haired  beauty  who  usually  gets  her  will.  (  cemre  baysel,  she  /  her  pronouns,  bisexual,  in  her  mid  twenties  )

VIMALA  KUMAR        ⸻      lawyer.  beauty  and  brain  combined,  she’s  a  force  of  nature.  a  bit  of  a  control  freak  and  dominant,  but  nonetheless  passionate,  loving  and  fiercely  protective  of  those  she  adores.  the  truth,  no  matter  how  hurtful  it  might  be,  is  always  her  first  choice.  (  sobhita  dhulipala,  she  /  her  pronouns,  bisexual,  in  her  early  thirties  )

MALITA  YALUNG          ⸻      trust  fund  baby  and  ceo  of  a  cosmetic  company.  born  into  immense  wealth,  power  and  a  path  she  was  assigned  to  follow  before  she  could  talk.  overly  confident,  bubbly,  daring  and  a  true  risk  taker,  malita  is  a  handful.  (  chienna  filomeno,  she  /  her  pronouns,  pansexual,  in  her  late  twenties  )

LUKE  LANCASTER          ⸻      a  cowboy  through  and  through,  with  his  own  ranch  inherited  from  his  parents.  adores  his  animals  and  always  makes  sure  they’re  well  taken  care  of.  a  gentleman  with  a  cheeky  smile.  (  glen  powell,  he  /  him  pronouns,  bisexual,  in  his  early  thirties  )

SERENA  CLEMENT          ⸻        personal  assistant.  personified  sunshine.  her  glass  is  always  half  full,  rather  than  half  empty.  a  bit  of  an  airhead,  but  her  heart  is  full  of  love  and  she’s  ready  to  give  it  to  everyone.  (  madison  bailey,  she  /  her  pronouns,  pansexual,  in  her  mid  twenties  )

OTHER  MUSES  .      there  will  be  plenty  of  other  muses  you’ll  encounter  here;  most  of  them  were  created  on  spot  and  don’t  have  much  information  yet.  but  you  are  always  welcome  to  request  for  a  thread  or  ask  for  more  details. 

[ofmoonlily]

❰❰ PULL ❱❱ sender pulls receiver close to them

An Extremely Self-Indulgent Meme (Physical prompts based around some of my favorite tropes / physical actions in threads. Send this   + reverse   to change which muse does which action.) | Accepting | @bymargrace

They've ventured a long way, trekking the gravely terrain, through the fiend-ridden wood and scaling the cliffside with utmost caution. The relic they discovered weeks prior was meant to be placed in a certain sequence; coordinates they've deciphered after a long and tiring brainstorming session Yuna prays they never endure again.

Beads of sweat rolled down the summoner's temples as she struggled to keep up with the adventurer, yet grateful for Joshua's prowess in combat to fend off the occasional slobbering beast and clearing a path for her to take spontaneous breaks and heal up their team.

As they clamber up the rocky cliffside, Joshua pulls himself upon the lip of the ledge, discovering a flat surface to navigate without a need to continue their taxing hike. Offering his hand, he assists the summoner onto the level expanse before scouting the area with a hand hovering over his brows. As Yuna finds her footing, she dusts off her attire free of sand and dried mud before administering another dose of healing upon Joshua with the graceful movement of her staff, which grabbed his attention.

Yuna giggles, about to advance towards him. Before she was able to, she felt something shift underneath her feet, a vibration she couldn't quite place. She looks all around her, a noise from below gradually rising. Alas, it was too late for her to realize that a crack had penetrated the thick slab of earth, breaking away from the cliff's ledge and sending her falling.

Only, she wasn't falling.

A gloved hand intercepted her with a swift grab before she could pierce her fragile body upon the sharpened rocks down below. A gentle, yet firm grasp curled around Yuna's delicate little wrist, pulling her closely into his chest and stepping away from the crumbling ridge. She hadn't realized she clamped her eyes shut until she opened them. The side of her face nestled comfortably against her hero's warm chest, prompting her to pull away very slightly and peer upward's to Joshua's concerned visage.

Mismatched irises widen. A rather large rose colored tint gradually spread across the apples of her cheeks.

Joshua towered over her.

Of course, Yuna was aware the man was lengthy from the start, however being this close to him really put it into perspective. Their faces were merely inches from one another, causing Yuna's heart to hammer erratically against her chest, growing more violent when their eyes met. She took them time to really experience the raw compassion he held in his very foundation.

His arm had been tautly wrapped around the small of her back, holding her close and so comfortably against his frame. Fragile hands rest against his chest as they remain in this peculiar position. Joshua asks something, then. Likely along the lines if she'd been hurt, or if she needed something of him.

"I---N-no. No! I-I'm alright. Really!" She could not physically tear her gaze away from his. No matter how hot and red her face appeared. "I-I'm…sorry for worrying you." It wasn't like she didn't know already, but Joshua was dashing. From the depths of his soul to his outward appearance. Yuna felt her chest swell in a strong reaction to the sudden appearance of his smile.

What…were they doing again? H-How long has he been holding her like this?

Nevertheless, Yuna takes the liberty to hook her slender arms around Joshua's broad shoulders and rises on her tippy-toes to place a gentle kiss upon his cheek - gratitude towards his interception, and guiding her safely along the perilous roads. "Thank you, Joshua. I don't want to think about what could have happened had you not been here to intervene.

"Again, I thank you, thank you so very much."

[samevans-wmu]

Sam's feeling all kinds of good now he's back within Frannie's orbit. It's not like he can't go on without living whenever they're apart but he did really, really like whenever they were together. He dreaded her move out but got the reasons behind it. Encouraged it even because her future and image are very important things, the kind he respects. They could fool themselves and say they'll be good Christians who don't mess around but....who are they kidding? Even standing here Sam's itching to slide a hand underneath Frannie's oversized sweater to feel at the smooth skin on her hip. And if he brought her in close enough he might even smell whatever lotion she used after her evening shower.

All those happy thoughts were dashed to the ground at the Slender Man mention. There's a noticeable chill and Sam said, "Fran. That's one of those dudes I never, ever, ever want to cross paths with. He scares the shit out of me." He's serious, too. Yeah, yeah, it was a creepypasta meme and not real but fuck. You just don't know! It took a moment for Sam to see Frannie's smile and realized she's toying with him. Sam leant in and gave her a little tickle on the side. "You had me going there." he laughed and kissed her cheek again. It felt nice to have this with someone. To be open with it, too.

Back to the blankets Sam quieted his brain long enough to follow Frannie's instructions. Her hands moved his and he tried to focus on the task and not at the way her hair moved over her shoulder whenever she did any sort of movement. How does she get her hair that soft? He snapped out of it and returned to the blanket and attempted to fold one the way she showed. It...it didn't turn out exactly like hers and you can tell which was hers and which was his. Sam shook it out and tried again. "I think you're gonna be the blanket folder. And if a fitted sheet ever crosses my path I hope you don't die from how I just ball it up and toss it into the closet." He warned before laughing. Sam tried the blanket once more while Frannie surveyed the clipboard. His 4th attempt at the blanket looked better than the last 3 and Sam placed it into the box.

"Yeah? Then lets get out of the way. I can unload it and repack it, too. I've been rummaging around in it and things are kinda sticking into my back whenever I wear it around." He admitted. After Frannie did a final clipboard check he took her hand and guided her to a corner. "For real though, now it's just you and me for the most part. How you holding up with all of this?"

Being so publicly affectionate was definitely...new, and Frannie couldn't help the soft smile that rested upon her lips as the two of them pulled away from the embrace. It was a refreshingly new feeling, and the kind of feeling that released a nervous flurry of butterflies in her stomach. And his response to her statement made Frannie chuckle for the first time in what must have been hours. "Yes, actually." She responded, grinning, nodding along to Sam's make-believe story equally as dramatically. "You're all alone in your dorm. There could be so many possibilities of what could've happened to you. Have you even heard of SlenderMan before? He thrives upon the darkness. I'm sure the minute he spotted your muscles, he'd absolutely want to gobble you up." Although her words were spoken with an air of drama to them, Frannie's grin hopefully gave away that she was absolutely kidding. Her gaze flew down to where Sam's hands were now joining with hers, forming a new rhythm and flow of organising the blankets, and she couldn't help feel grateful for the support. Even if Sam's folding of the blankets wasn't totally the right way she had been previously folding them. It still meant a lot to her. What could she say? She's a perfectionist.

"Here, let me show you." Frannie reached out to gently take the blanket from Sam's hands, letting her fingers lace with his momentarily before removing them with the blanket, too. "Usually I try to fold them as small as possible so that we can fit as many as we can inside of the boxes." She explained, folding the blanket slowly for Sam to see before giving a small smile. "I'm a little bit of a perfectionist. I'm sorry in advance." Leaning over, she gave Sam a small peck on the cheek as an apology - she was well aware that she could be...a little particular, at times. Handing Sam the blanket back again, she turned to the side, glancing down at the clipboard to her side and taking a pencil out of the side of her ear. "You know, I think we've actually got most things sorted. And I'm now incredibly curious about this survival pack. I'd love to see what you've brought with you."

[cavaliant]

WHAT’S YOUR ROLE IN FOUND FAMILY DYNAMICS?

the hermit who helps

at first, you were a resource for the established characters to turn to, but you quickly began to steal the show due to your personality, your usefulness, or your inherently interesting perspective on life. you were pretty much already able to provide for yourself, but the next thing you know, these people are growing on you. instead of asking favors, it becomes an invitation to socialize. you find yourself sticking around for no apparent reason other than you like it here. the people are fun to watch, if nothing else, but ultimately they're just--oh no. oh no, you care about them. you always thought you stayed away from this "relationship" stuff for a reason. it gets messy and isn't worth it unless it really works. for some reason, this group really works. these weirdos are now your weirdos, and if anything happens to them, there will be hell to pay. you were basically already looking after them before this, after all. welcome to the family, hermit.

the heart full of faith

at some point in your life, you've probably been told you're "the glue" keeping a certain group of people together. you look on the bright side of things. you are able to convince someone that everything will be alright. your (found) family walks away from you feeling strengthened by your faith and--let's face it--wisdom. hopefully, you aren't being taken for granted in this. keeping morale up comes naturally to you. you probably do plenty without even realizing it. you're a good listener, thoughtful, kind. even leaders come to you for guidance. you may or may not be keen on being in charge yourself, but you are trustworthy, and you do right by the people who depend on you. the only person you can't always see clearly is yourself. it's easy to tell someone their potential but incredibly difficult to realize your own. you need the support of others just as much as they need you--but once you're put to the test, you'll realize you had the right stuff in you all along.

tagged by: i stole it off kris :3c

tagging: my dash is dead and so am i but take this if you like 🕺

[aceparagoned]

TAG DUMP PART 1

☆ VISAGE → you’re bright as a star; radiant as the sun’s rays. ☆ MUSINGS → written on your skin like stardust; these are reflections of your undying will. ☆ MANNERISMS → unyielding in your strength; you bow for no one. and yet you have a heart of gold and compassion for everyone. ☆ SELF-PROMOTION → you are a beacon of hope to so many that you meet. the burden is great; yet you remain strong. ☆ AESTHETICS → mementos of the journey she’s undergone thus far; the stars will guide her path. ☆ WARDROBE → even the defender of the world has an interest in the world of fashion; these items adorn her battleworn body. ☆ ABILITIES → her might is strong; unconquerable; this is a display of her prowess. ☆ VITA → everyone’s hero; the one who we all count on to save the day; without her—the world would be lost to chaos and despair. ☆ HEADCANONS → these are layers to you; to your heart. let others see who you are within; let your walls down for now. ☆ META → classified information on the world and the force that declared war on the Earth. ☆ PROMOTIONS → these are my dearest friends! you all mean so much to me & help me keep going despite the insurmountable odds. ☆ DESIRES → what she has denied herself for so long; to have someone to love; to hold; to cherish. yearning can only last so long. ☆ A LITTLE PLACE CALLED HOME → these facets help run the city of neo-tokyo and the world overall. ☆ MEMES → downtime games for when there's a lull in this hero's busy life! ✫ MUSIC → what empowers her to fight — to keep going on despite the surmounting odds. watch her dance like a star. ☆ OUT OF UNIFORM → downtime is necessary even for a hero tasked with so much; remember to take a break for yourself. ☆ STARTER CALL → you've got a message! what does it say? ☆ DASH GAMES → what's new on the 'net? ☆ QUEUE → ''sorry I can't answer your call right now! I'm off saving the world!'' ☆ DASHBOARD COMMENTARY → even if her duty has her out on the frontlines; may these messages remind you that she is with you. ☆ PSA → hey listen! this is some important stuff here!

[chaosdmagicks]

RULES.

one.   selective and private.

this means i will not follow everyone back.     if i don’t see us interacting,  i won’t follow back.     and if we haven’t interacted within around two weeks of following each other,  then i most likely will unfollow.     i like having my dash clean.     i’m also mutuals - only,  which means that all open starters and starter calls are for mutuals only,  as well as memes.

two.   following back.

i won’t follow back if you:   post hateful content aka anything homophobic,  transphobic,  racist etc.     i also won’t follow if you post too much ooc.     from time to time is okay,  i do it,  too,  but not when ooc > ic.     i also won’t follow any 13 reasons why blogs,  multis with muses are okay,  but i will probably block your tags for the characters.     and same goes for any descendant muses.

three.   memes.

never shy away from sending them in.     whether we’ve roleplayed for years now,  or if we’re new mutuals.     also,  it’s okay to send in as many as you please.     i might not answer all,  but the more you send,  the bigger chances of me actually answering anything,  tbh.     i no longer put a lot of priority to memes,  though.     they get done slowly,  and not at all in any order,  so keep that in mind. 

four.   triggers.

i don’t personally have any triggers that need tagging.     if anything comes up,  will definitely let everyone know,  but as of now,  i’m good with anything.     however,  if you need any tagging,  just let me know.      i do read everyone’s rules,  but after a time i forget,  i’m only human.     so if i forget to tag something,  just shoot me a message and i will do better in the future.     i want you all to enjoy dumblr.

five.   shipping.

i like shipping.     i like it a lot.     however,  i do want to focus on other ships on this blog:   platonic,  familiar,  enemies,  frenemies,  role-models,  etc.     plus,  wanda isn't exactly the easiest character to ship with, especially in her current storyline which i am more prone to exploring. however, nothing is off the table, i do also roleplay wanda as a closeted pansexual.

six.   pre-plotting.

this blog is mainly plotting - based.     i do enjoy threads which have been at least slightly thought-out and when i have some kind of path to guide me.     this doesn’t mean i won’t do random threads,  but it does mean those will be most likely quickly dropped and i won’t be telling you about it.

seven. mcu vs 616.

as mentioned in my pinned, my wanda is mcu-based. i have not had the privilege of reading the comics yet, but i amd hoping that will be changing soon. with that said, i am more than happy to do comic based threads. any comic based threads, as long as you're okay with me coming at you with 28643247 questions to make sure i'm not messing anything up (i will also happily read up about it prior to writing).

eight.   nsfw.

this blog will contain a lot of nsfw content.     that includes sexual,  gore,  violence and language.     the gorier the better for me,  sorry but not at all.     and i do write smut,  which i’m also not at all sorry for.     i enjoy it.     there might be sexual graphics here etc too,  so if that’s not something you enjoy on your dash,  you shouldn’t follow me.      however,  everything will be tagged accordingly.

nine.   mun.

hello,  i go by tosia.     she/her,  of age.     english is not my first language,  but i do live in the uk.     love quoting vine ad tiktok.     hmu if you’re on gae witch kinktok pls.     i’m very easily approachable,  honestly.     never fear of contacting me,  just keep in mind that should we hit off,  i will not leave u alone,  lol.

[megashadowdragon]

I am ferdinand von aegir

ncfan-1 . tumblr . com/post/187898310567/i-am-ferdinand-von-aegir

The fact that Ferdinand says this every time you select him in battle in Part One is a meme for obvious reasons, but I’ve been thinking about it in a serious context for a little while, too.

Ferdinand places a lot of stock in his position as nobility, and in particular his position as successor to the Aegir dukedom, and what that means for his place in the Empire. He’s not the only student character in the game to place a lot of weight in his position—Lorenz, for instance, places a heavy emphasis on the fact that he’s a noble, and makes it clear even at the end of Part Two that he would make a better leader of the Alliance than Claude—but Ferdinand is unique in the sense that we can infer that the importance he places on his heritage and noble role is both something that was conditioned into him since he could understand spoken language, as well as something that is tied up in his sense of identity, and thus self-esteem.

Let’s back up a little bit.

Ferdinand is the only (or at least eldest) son of Duke Aegir, adviser to the current Emperor, Ionius IX. It’s known by everyone that Ferdinand is set to inherit the title and therefore the role and responsibilities of the current Duke Aegir, doing his part alongside Edelgard once she ascends the throne as it is also known that she will. This is a hefty responsibility, but one that Ferdinand feels confident he can take on, because he has been groomed for this since birth and has likely been assured that he will be able to do just as his father has done before him.

But what has his father done before him?

As far as Ferdinand is aware, his father has honorably upheld the status of Duke and has assisted / guided Ionius IX to leading Adrestia to prosperity. But what Ferdinand doesn’t know is that the current Duke Aegir hasn’t so much “guided” Ionius insomuch as he has controlled him, assisting other nobles into completely stripping Ionius of agency and torturing most of his children to death or insanity, and leaving Edelgard with her two Crests, shortened lifespan, and immense trauma. As of Part One, Ferdinand believes that his father is the image of what a noble should be: gallant, protective of commoners, and dedicated to assisting the current emperor and guiding him down the path of righteousness. For Ferdinand to believe this, he has to have been told this. And who would have told him this, if not for his father, the current Duke, himself?

To that end, I think it’s fair to assume that Duke Aegir was the one who filled Ferdinand’s head with the idea that he would have to “guide” Edelgard, no doubt using “guide” as a pleasant euphemism when what he really means is “control.” There is little doubt in my mind that the current Duke Aegir strove to groom Ferdinand to do the exact same thing to Edelgard that he himself did to Ionius IX: to not guide her, as an adviser would to his liege, but rather to control her as a puppeteer would to his marionette. Of course, he couldn’t outright tell Ferdinand to do this, so instead to impressed upon him the importance of guiding Edelgard, and more to the point impressed upon him that he was superior to Edelgard in every way. No doubt Ferdinand was told by his father since he was very, very small that he was smarter than Edelgard, more capable than Edelgard, stronger than Edelgard, and all around superior to her, and this was why he alone was set to “guide” her. If Duke Aegir made Ferdinand believe from essentially infancy that he was the one who would truly lead Adrestia to prosperity, then surely he would have no problem carrying on the noble Aegir tradition of stripping the emperor of all power and leading the country from the shadows. He would grow into the role pretty naturally, so long as Duke Aegir raised him to believe that Edelgard was misguided, weak, and ineffectual.

So Ferdinand grew up with his sense of self wrapped around this concept that he was superior to Edelgard in every way (and that this was a good thing, the right thing) and that he would lead Adrestia (and potentially the rest of Fodlan) to prosperity. His family was the most noble, the greatest, and he would carry the weight of Adrestia on his shoulders. He never doubted any of this because most children don’t doubt their parents when they’re very young, and with Edelgard constantly rebuffing his requests for duels, he had no reason to believe that he was anything but superior to her. (Note: I am not blaming Edelgard for any of this, I’m just saying that Ferdinand not getting knocked on his ass by her for so long did nothing to dash his image of superiority over her.) He was raised with the sole purpose of “guiding” Edelgard as Duke, and therefore never really branched out, considered what might happen if he wasn’t as superior to Edelgard as he was led to believe, or discovered who he really was …

… which is why the identity crisis hits him so hard in Part Two.

To be honest, it’s a bit unclear whether Edelgard ever actually tells Ferdinand what his father did to her (and Ionius IX) by the time Part Two rolls around. I think that if you’re on one of the other paths and recruit Ferdinand to those Houses (or if you’re doing Church Route), then there’s a good chance he never learns, and thinks that his father was unjustly stripped of his title and thrown in prison for no reason. But it’s also a bit hazy to me on whether he knows the truth on the Crimson Flower route either, because I seem to remember monastery dialogue from him at the beginning of Part Two where he says that his relationship with Edelgard is “contentious” at the moment, because of what happened with his father, which implies he doesn’t know (which … Edelgard, why wouldn’t you tell him?). But whether he knows or not, if you see Ferdinand’s supports with Byleth and Edelgard respectively, you see Ferdinand come to realize that he is not superior to Edelgard, and also that he now has to figure out what that means for him, and his role moving forward.

Aside from the fact that Duke Aegir never counted on Edelgard ascending the throne before Ferdinand could get her under his thumb, he also never realized that his attempts to condition Ferdinand to be just like him never had much of a chance of working, because unlike Duke Aegir, Ferdinand has a heart of gold. Ferdinand doesn’t take pride in his place as a noble because he legitimately believes that he’s better than others, but because he genuinely wants to help and protect those who need it. He sees commoner civilians get caught in the crossfire or suffering, and he believes it is not only his purpose, but his joy to help protect them. Setting aside the fact that Edelgard knew the truth of everything that was done to her father and was prepared to stop it, as well as the fact that Hubert would never conspire with anyone to manipulate and control Edelgard as his father did before him, I firmly believe that even if Edelgard hadn’t tossed the current Duke Aegir in jail and made it clear that those who conspired to control her would face similar consequences, Ferdinand would have never done what his father did. He believed, because he was raised to believe, that he was superior to Edelgard and that this was the way things were supposed to be, but he never held the malice toward Edelgard (or the greed for power) that his father held for hers. Ferdinand only ever wanted to work with Edelgard to ensure the best for their people, which is precisely what he ends up doing after coming to terms with who he is and what his true role within the Empire is, working as her advisor along with Hubert.

All of this is to say … I think it’s very telling that he stops declaring his identity on the battlefield all the time in Part Two. By the time Part Two rolls around, House Aegir is pretty much in disgrace due to his father being punished for his crimes, Ferdinand has most likely realized that he’s not superior to Edelgard as he has been raised to believe, and he knows now (since he’s fully out of his teenage years and has fought in a war for the past five years) that there is no honor that will be given simply based on what your name is or what House you hail from, but rather that honor is a result of your actions (and that even if not everyone knows your actions, that means nothing compared to the results your actions have). When he’s a teenager in Part One, Ferdinand declares his name on the battlefield because he thinks that telling the enemy that he is Ferdinand von Aegir, heir to the Aegir Dukedom, will be enough to make them quake in his boots and also let everyone else around know that they are safe and can rest easy because he is here to save the day. But when he’s an adult, he knows that his name in fact means nothing, and that if he wants people to know that he’ll protect them, he has to show them in action rather than just telling them in words (and also expecting them to know what those words mean, because as Byleth demonstrated when they first met, not everyone knows who Duke Aegir even is).

All in all, while Ferdinand shouting his name at the start of every battle in Part One is a meme for good reason (one that I myself laugh at), I also think it’s a subtle way to give insight to both his background and his character development given that he stops saying it in Part Two. Particularly when you see his supports with Byleth, Edelgard, and even Hubert, it’s clear how much he changes once he stops basing his entire identity and self-esteem around what he was raised to believe, and instead comes to determine a role and purpose for himself (which, incidentally, is what Edelgard wants and encourages everyone, Ferdinand included, to do). In that sense, it’s really wonderful and it’s something I’m glad is in the game, no matter how memetic it is.

[imnotcameraready]

chivalry is dead (8)

A/N: PLEASE READ ALL THE WARNINGS!!! — also if i’ve missed any warnings, please please please let me know!!! this chapter’s a doozy, and i don’t know everything that could be construed into something that might upset someone, so please let me know if you think there’s something i’ve missed so i can update this chapter and make sure it’s tagged in future chapters! or if i've worded any of them wrong! 

anyway, im so stoked for this chapter y’all wouldn’t even bELIEVE. you also finally get to see how much i adore the em-dash, ‘cause there are 33 in this chapter Alone

WARNINGS: Sympathetic Deceit, panic, panic attack!!, scarring/scars, past fights, loneliness, isolation, self-hatred/self-deprecation, self-isolation, swearing/cursing, curses, death threats, thoughts of ducking out, public torture (implied), argument (no yelling but Hardcore Debates)

WORDS:  9752 (it.,,.s,.s  so su fkcing l ong .,,. ,. .,   akshdlgasf sorry im so proud of myself bc i rarely ever write single chapters this long and im screaming)

PAIRINGS: I. am so fucking proud to say. that there’s a lil’ Prinxiety, Anxciet, and Roceit. more Prinxiety than the other two, but that’s because Roman’s doing all the legwork in this chapter

MASTERPOST

AO3 link!

@starlightvirgil @forrestwyrm @daflangstlairde @marshmallow-the-panda@askthesnake @k9cat @patromlogil

enjoy!!! love y’all so much <3 <3 <3 <3 

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Virgil didn’t think the first quest he’d have through Roman’s Imagination would involve trudging through a sewer line.

He pulled his hood tighter around his face, trying to block out the scent but leaving a hole just barely wide enough to see Deceit and the Thief walking in front of him, leading every step with the ball of his foot and basically tip-toeing through the cobblestone tunnel. The Thief had led him and Deceit around some roads too fast to follow, instructed them to put their hoods up and hide as much of their faces as they could until they breached the town’s defense wall, and to do that, they’d have to follow one of the paths beneath one of the two river branches. Underground and not seen. They were on the run from the guards, after all; Virgil agreed that getting caught would throw a wrench in absolutely everything.

Deceit was a little more careless. Virgil kinda wanted to kick him for it, actually. For someone so concerned about what was best for Thomas the real person, Deceit seemed very nonchalant about the whole “Roman, Creativity, might be gone forever” situation.

Roman was NOT gone forever.

Holy shit, Roman was gone.

Virgil squeezed his eyes shut and exhaled, covering his mouth with his hood. The realization was coming in waves, slapping him with the ice cold knowledge that they’d demoralized Roman so much he’d basically ducked out. He’d done more than ducked out. He was fucking dead.

Calm down time, he could hear Patton’s voice in the back of his head start counting one, two, three, four. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

“Virgil. Are you coming?” Deceit said.

Virgil looked up to see Deceit and the Thief both stopped and standing a few paces in front of him, waiting. While Deceit just watched with his mouth pressed in a line, the Thief looked more concerned.

Was that concern? Virgil couldn’t tell. He just nodded, not removing the hood from his mouth or taking any further steps forward, but it seemed that his approval was enough to placate the both of them.

The Thief turned back around, continuing to lead. “Sorry. I know it’s dismal down here, but this’ the safest passage out of the city,” his fingers trailed along the right wall, making a soft scraping sound as the leather rubbed against the stone. “We’re almost out.”

Deceit was trailing right behind the Thief, close enough that his cloak’s flapping was gently hitting his shins. It seemed best to stick close to their guide, especially in as confusing a situation as this one. Plus he may be able to learn some more about the Pandora’s box that they’d opened when interrupting this death fight nonsense. He actually kept trying to grab the Thief’s hand, something to guide (not comfort), but he kept missing. Or the Thief was dodging. But no, no way would he be doing that.

They turned another corner and the Thief held up a hand, stopping Deceit and Virgil behind himself. Neither of them opened their mouths, but he still shushed quietly and turned to face the wall. It looked like dirt and stone like all the rest of the walls. The Thief said something, not to either of them but himself. Deceit leaned forward, hand outstretched, but Virgil swatted it away.

He also ignored the glare Deceit shot him. “What?” Deceit taunted quietly, “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Fuckin’ liar,” Virgil grumbled into his hood, muffled enough that neither of the others could hear what he said.

Deceit heard that he said something, though, and smirked. It was always rewarding to watch Virgil squirm, especially since….

His smirk fell and was replaced with a sigh. The path to hell was paved in good intentions, after all.

The Thief stepped back, causing Virgil and Deceit to jump. They hadn’t noticed that he’d set a few fires — there were a few wicks embedded in the stone — and the glittering golden flames formed a circle in the wall. In the circle, where there used to be wall, was a hole leading to the outside world. Virgil could definitely see grass out there.

He followed the Thief as he stepped through the opening and out into the grass. “C’mon. And stop arguing, I can hear your eyebrow muscles moving,” he said.

Both Deceit and Virgil stopped, casting wary glances at each other before following again. The Thief didn’t look at them at least, but that just made it even more confusing as to how he knew they’d been shooting each other death glares for the whole sewer trip.

Ah, well. Nothing in this realm made much sense, anyhow. Virgil looked up, squinting at their surroundings. They were definitely out of the city. Behind them was the looming city wall, definitely over four stories tall and seemingly impenetrable. The hole they’d exited from was closed, small wisps of smoke rising from where the Thief had extinguished the spell’s flames.

And speaking of which, apparently there was a Roman who was a witch or something. Logan was right about the magic in this world, then. That was another thing he’d have to be wary about. Are you ever so stressed that you’re calm? Oh, worm.

Virgil snorted to himself and rubbed his face. The memes, they’d ruin him one day.

Deceit cast him a curious look, but disregarded it before Virgil noticed. They didn’t have the time nor expendable energy for animosity. Not here, and not with the stakes so high. He was trying his best to not antagonize Virgil — okay, but come on, it was just so easy!

To their left was the river, though it was more like a stream as it cut through a grate in the wall and along the grassy expanse towards the forest. The Thief seemed to be following it, humming a tune as he pushed around reeds and tall grass. To his credit, the Thief seemed less stressed now that they were out of the city; he was swaying, even, to the song he was humming.

“Thief,” he stopped humming when Deceit interrupted him, “You live in the tree, in the forest, correct?”

“I do. You’ve seen it?” the Thief looked over his shoulder at Deceit quickly.

“Yes. When we arrived in this world, we were in a patch of grass in the forest. Your tree was our first checkpoint.”

Deceit moved the reeds in front of him away with his hands. Crickets were chirping out here, the water glittering golden as the sun lowered behind them. Sunset would be happening soon.

It seemed everything shone gold, here.

“Like a video game?” the Thief asked, humor laced through his voice.

Deceit sighed. “That was Virgil’s idea.”

“Hey—!”

“It was a good one,” the Thief cut him off, waving a hand at Deceit without looking at him. “The concept of checkpoints isn’t just a video game thing. Any story has constants, things that’re always there to help the reader place themselves into the story and understand how things flow. My tree’s always been that, so we’ve always got somewhere we’re…,” he trailed off, then chuckled. “Rooted to.”

“Booo,” Deceit groaned, ignoring Virgil’s quiet snickering, “Patton would approve.”

The Thief winced. He stopped walking — they were halfway to the forest, following the river — and pointed two red fingers at them both. “I should warn you, watch out whose names you say. You never know who’s listening.”

Deceit shot a panicked and confused look right at the Thief’s back. He turned to Virgil and found his expression mirrored on the anxious side’s face, both not liking the implications of that statement.

They turned back to the Thief, who had just turned around and continued walking. Virgil cleared his throat first.

“What do you mean by that….?”

“There’s a curse on your guys’ names. Logan, Patton, Virgil, Deceit,” the Thief’s voice was light, airy, as though he didn’t particularly care. “If you say it, everyone hears it, knows where it was said and who said it. I don’t really care but, well. I would prefer not having too many uninvited guests tonight.”

“O….kay.” Deceit cleared his throat and shook out his hands, a little more frustrated now with that knowledge. He would have to ask more about that later — there were so many things they didn’t know about, that they needed to approach, but he couldn’t keep dropping things for others. “But….more on the tree. How old is it?”

Make the Thief finish a train of thought. Virgil raised an eyebrow at Deceit, who nodded. That was their gameplan. Milk him for information, on anything, because at this point, anything was helpful.

He clapped happily, Deceit noted, walking with a slight pep in his step as his thoughts were redirected toward his tree. “It was formed before this challenge. Roman made it, actually, back when Thomas was a kid and wanted a treehouse he could escape into. When….we feel like we want to be alone, it’s where we go, so it was fitting that I’d move into it once this challenge started.”

Virgil sped up a little, to catch up enough to walk inline with Deceit. No point in bringing up the rear the farther they got from the city. “You see this whole situation as a challenge? Like, the battle royale situation.”

The Thief waved a hand as the incline changed, entering the forest. “Something like that, yeah. Mostly we’re all fighting about what we think is best for Roman.”

Deceit and Virgil shared a look. They remembered the Playwright’s words, about maintaining order. It was easy, in the euphoria of finding Roman, to forget that all of these forms had ulterior motives.

Briefly, Deceit considered what the Playwright’s ulterior motive was. He hadn’t mentioned having one, but it was in his nature to not trust that sort of silence.

“What do YOU think is best?” Virgil asked as they both turned back to the Thief.

He didn’t turn to look at them, holding out a hand as a small bluejay — where the fuck did the bird come from?! — landed on his hand. The Thief whistled quietly at it, and it chirped back, and flew away.

They could see a sliver of his face, drawn up in a small smile, expression strained even as they couldn’t see it.

“....Stay in the Imagination. For forever.”

There was a pause.

Deceit was watching the back of the Thief’s head, eyebrow raised and glare frozen. That was a twist. No, no it wasn’t. He should have seen this coming — the others’ letting him stay locked in his room would definitely send the message that they didn’t care if he came out. Of course.

He glanced at Virgil, only to find the anxious side glaring absolute daggers at the Thief’s head. He wanted to duck out (quack). Son of a bitch, there was a part of Roman that wanted to duck out (quack).

Virgil was gonna scream.

Deceit made a gesture, and Virgil’s hand clamped over his mouth. He shot daggers at Deceit, who did his best to only focus on the Thief.

“That doesn’t sound healthy,” Deceit said, voice quiet.

“I don’t remember asking your opinion, little white lie,” the Thief grunted as he climbed over a particularly thick root.

He shot Deceit a quick glare before disappearing around it. His hand stuck out and motioned them both to follow. Virgil punched Deceit’s arm with his other hand and Deceit sighed, letting up so Virgil could speak.

“That wouldn’t benefit anyone,” Virgil hissed, dread laced through his voice as he held back as much of his panic as he could. He and Deceit both cringed when his Tempest Tongue slipped out, though.

They climbed over the root, Virgil first and giving Deceit a sharp kick in the side as he did so. Deceit hissed, and slapped Virgil’s back.

The Thief watched them both with a glare as they appeared over the root.

virgil could definitively say that the Thief was one of the parts of Roman that he didn’t like. He was squirrely, too ready to judge and too eager to cut ties, and Virgil didn’t see what a center-stage hog like Roman would gain from losing his audience. It was counterintuitive.

But maybe it was tied to ducking out. Who fucking knows.

The Thief’s expression seemed to let up, but he looked away again, continuing up the hill. “You, too, Dark Knight.”

They followed for while in silence, until Deceit asked, voice softer, “And what if you’re wrong?”

Now the Thief stopped. His shoulders were stiff, as though he had half a mind to tell them to shut up, or even to turn them back. Virgil opened his mouth, but Deceit held out a hand, shaking his head. Let him think.

Eventually, he slumped, tilting his head back and exhaling. “That’s the point of breaking Roman apart,” his voice was strained, “We need to piece him back together into something more, ah….I’m bad at wording, but something more indestructible.”

That was what he had suspected. Deceit sighed, lowering his arm and approaching the Thief’s back. Carefully, he rested his hand on his shoulder, giving him one tug to turn around and ignoring how stiff the Thief turned. The forest around them was darkening, and red light from the setting sun streamed in around them.

A harsh breeze swept through the opening. Virgil held his cloak tight around himself and looked around. The fear of bears was definitely more real now. But Deceit was unfazed. He held the Thief’s arm tight, even though it was limp in his grip.

He wasn’t going to lose Roman over something so….well, for lack of a better word, trivial.

“No one’s perfect, Thief. Everyone’s got flaws and denying yours might result in,” Deceit paused, trying to phrase this without revealing his exact thoughts, “Unwanted consequences.”

The Thief’s eyes were cast down, at the ground. His entire body was rigid, as though Deceit’s hand had frozen him upon touch.

Had he always looked so defeated? Held a darkness in those eyes just as bright as the shine that comes when spinning a yarn or acting in a play?

Deceit glanced at Virgil, then back at the Thief. How had they let this happen?

He shrugged Deceit’s hand off with a sharp shake, still refusing to look at him. “Yeah. It probably will. And, once you’re all out of here, you won’t have to deal with those flaws again.”

Deceit’s eyebrows shot up, hand curling into a fist at his side as he argued in the only way he could. The Thief didn’t care?! “It’ll hurt HIM, and it doesn’t matter who wins this stupid challenge. You understand that, right?”

“Yeah,” the Thief barked out a laugh, “I’ll take your word for it, Silver Tongue.”

He continued forward, not checking that they were following.

Deceit’s hands were curled into tight fists at his sides, shaking slightly. That went against all of his work. All of his and the other Sides’ wor, too! Trying to save Roman, for him to snap back and self-destruct like this.

It was going to hurt THOMAS, didn’t Roman understand that?

Did he WANT that?!

He huffed, eyes fixed on a dandelion growing in the grass. It did make sense, it was a long time coming — of course, what an oversight on his part, to allow this isolation to extend for so long—

“Hey, breathe,” Virgil’s whisper brought him back to focus, “C’mon.”

Virgil’s hand wrapped around one of Deceit’s, coaxing his hand open with practised understanding and gripping tight. “Don’t panic. That’s my job.”

Deceit cast him a sidelong glare.

Virgil shrugged, lips pursed, but a thin smile still present. He swung their arms up, then down again, and tugged him along. Deceit could feel him taking away some of his anxieties. There was no doubt that it was unhealthy, for Virgil to be roiling in everyone’s panic, but he couldn’t help but also being thankful as Virgil squeezed his hand in small pulses, tugging him along after the Thief.

After about a minute, he exhaled.

“Thank you,” Deceit murmured, eyes downcast.

Virgil glanced at him.

They could do this. Deceit swung their arms, and Virgil let out an exasperated sigh.

He was definitely still high strung, but they could do this.

But the Thief still wanted to leave.

Deceit pressed his lips together as he felt Virgil physically stiffen, the thought kicking him back into the reality. Which, in and of itself, was ironic, because the Imagination was super duper not reality.

“Thief,” he didn’t turn towards them, “You want to duck out.”

It wasn’t a question. Virgil was glaring at the Thief’s back, eyes a little wide.

Something was ringing in his ears. That’d been his fear — that’d been Virgil’s actual, personal fear for this whole endeavor. It’d just been confirmed.

The Thief stepped over a particularly large root, waving his right arm out towards the forest. “Of course. You’re necessary. Anxiety needs to have a seat at the table, yeah. You keep him out of trouble.”

He kicked a rock and hopped over another root. “We don’t. Uncreative people’re out in the world everywhere. Thomas can live without us, or with us muted.”

Oh my goodness gracious, Virgil was so glad Logan wasn’t there to hear that leap of logic. He couldn’t help the growing disgust on his face.

Deceit squeezed his hand again, but the Thief continued. “Getting to spend all our time here, in a world of our own creation? Win. You all get to go about running Thomas without getting annoyed by us all the time? Win. It’s a double win. A win-win.”

Virgil stood up straight, finally letting go of Deceit’s hand to gesture angrily at the Thief’s back. He seethed, throwing his arms into the air and shaking his tightly-gripped fists at the sky. It was like talking to a brick wall! An incredibly stubborn and narrow-minded brick wall who didn’t seem to have any critical thinking!

Maybe he should call it quits. He squatted, wrapping his arms around his head to block out the sunlight, trying to calm down again.

“Virgil.”

No, no, that wasn’t what he did. If Roman was stubborn, then Virgil was immovable, and he was gonna get his idiot back.

A hand rested on his shoulder, pulling him upward. Virgil swatted away at it, growling quietly into his own arms.

“Virgil, get up,” Deceit’s voice was barely audible over the blood pounding in his ears, “Or he’s gonna walk away.”

He nodded, exhaling into the ball he was curled into.

Let go. Let go of the damn worries.

“Virgil. Listen to my voice. Perhaps we cannot convince him, not alone and not tonight, but we can at least stay with him. Give him options.”

He’d trained himself to not listen to Deceit, who’d lied and manipulated his way around Thomas’ head. But, just this once….

Virgil nodded again and stood upright slowly, knees creaking and popping. They could do this.

Deceit patted his shoulder and motioned forward. The Thief was already a few yards ahead, but not out of sight just yet.

They both hurried after him.

Until he stopped.

The Thief’s shoulders slumped in relief as he finally spotted his tree in the distance. His pace quickened, jogging himself across the few meters between where he stood and the tree, and was followed by the other two Sides. Once they reached the tree, the Thief placed a hand against its side, running it along the bark slowly. As though greeting a friend.

“Welcome home,” he hummed, smiling up at the canopy.

He searched in his pocket and pulling out a lighter — a regular modern lighter, wasn’t there supposed to be a medieval theme or something?! That was MULTIPLE ITEMS— Deceit squinted at it, opening his mouth in an offended fashion. He was going to say something about that, because it was pretty unfair that he got to have something so modern while everyone else was relegated to objects that were period accurate, but Virgil elbowed him in the side.

The Thief, who was pressing the lighter to the black chalk, swirling the flame along the “door” opening, didn’t seem to notice. Virgil honestly just wanted to see what this magic was all about. Once he was done drawing the circle, he stepped back and held a hand out, pushing Deceit and Virgil back, too. “Open sesame,” he said with a grin.

All of the black chalk was alight, glowing gold from the flame. The Thief held a hand out for the drawn-on handle, and as soon as his hand got within an inch it glowed golden itself. The chalky text lit up red. He slowly turned the handle, now filling his hand with an amorphous golden light, and pushed the door open.

It swung easily, as though on invisible hinges.

The Thief smiled as the scent of home wafted over him. He took a deep breath, it’d been a long day, he was home, he was safe, and he turned to Deceit and Virgil.

Both of the other Sides were staring at the thick hole in the tree, mouths open slightly and eyes open much more. There wasn’t much to see inside the door, as there was a small staircase leading up to the actual living quarters, but the fact that the fairly solid tree opened was something. Neither of them had seen the magic in Roman’s kingdom, after all, and while they knew this was what happened….seeing it was a much different experience.

It was kind of humorous, actually. To think that he’d be bringing other Sides into his little sanctuary.

It felt….nice.

Shut up, shut up with that romantic bullshit.

“Are you coming?” he asked, cocking his lips into a smirk as he waved them in.

Virgil snapped out of it first, surprisingly. He shook his head and nodded. “Yeah. ‘Course.” He elbowed Deceit, who jumped and nodded so vigorously his hat fell off.

The Thief caught it, hand shooting out, and blinked at himself. And then he laughed.

His demeanor had flipped almost at the exact moment they got to the tree. He wasn’t curled inwards, dancing around words and ideas. No, here he was, his laugh light, airy and carefree, something that he didn’t seem capable of prior. A few birds in the forest even chirped along. One cardinal landed on his head, whistling with him, and he didn’t seem to mind.

Virgil and Deceit shared a look, both equally blushing. This was a stark change and their glum guide was kinda cute.

The bird thing was textbook Disney prince too, like, how did he even —

“Alright,” the Thief brushed off the hat, lips quirked in a small smile, “Enough fucking around, c’mon.”

He put the hat back onto Deceit’s head, hands carding through Deceit’s hair as he did so. If the Thief noticed how much redder he got, then he didn’t let on, because he turned around as soon as the hat was on snug.

Virgil noticed, though. He pressed the butt of his palm to his mouth, stifling a laugh as the snake spluttered silently at the Thief’s back.

The Thief, still unaware — maybe unaware, maybe not? — went into the tree and climbed the stairs without waiting for them to follow. Virgil went first, then Deceit quickly, not wanting to be alone in the forest for long and not wanting to think about that incredibly gentle and not-at-all pleasing interaction.

No sir. Not pleasing. Not what he absolutely wanted for the rest of his life.

For once, he cursed the existence of gloves. How much softer would the Thief’s hands be without them?

Deceit would die before acknowledging that he absolutely definitely didn’t not have a crush.

Virgil stepped up to the top landing, beside the Thief, and looked around. It was small, but cozy. Before them was a sitting area with a thick couch, identical to the one Thomas actually had in his living room but without the bend. In front of it was a wooden coffee table, beneath was a rug with circles, almost like the rings of a tree, Virgil thought. Atop the table was a vase of red roses in full bloom.

To the right was a small kitchen alcove, separated from the sitting area with a counter peninsula that had two toasters sitting on it. Two toasters. This Roman must like his bread, apparently. Floating around between the kitchen and sitting area were some candles, all lit and casting the room in a comforting warm glow. On the left was a stairwell, wooden and spiraling up in such a way that Virgil could only see the first few steps.

Besides the stairwell was a second door. As Deceit stepped up into the room, the Thief went to the second door and opened it. As soon as the door touched the back of the hall it opened to, it disappeared, leaving an uninhibited opening down to a curving hallway that seemed to wrap around the tree’s trunk.

“Make yourselves at home,” the Thief said, waving his hand at the living room, “Do you want me to take your cloaks?”

Deceit put up his hand dismissively, turning in a circle and examining the room.

Virgil also shook his head, holding his cloak around himself more. The Thief shrugged at him, taking off his own cloak. “Suit yourself.”

As he moved to hang it up, Virgil could see that the gloves went to the middle of his forearms, and his shirt seemed to be tucked into them. No part of him was exposed other than his collar, neck, and head. Interesting?

When Virgil turned back to Deceit, to maybe, you know, indicate that this Roman was taking some pages out of his book, he found that Deceit was wandering through the kitchen. He pointed to the two toasters, made a judgemental face at Virgil, and continued opening the cabinets and drawers. Virgil slumped a little. Figures.

He sighed, walking over to the couch and flopping onto it. Oh. It even smelt like Thomas’ couch. The tension left his shoulders as he rolled onto his side, pressing his face into the cushions and taking in a deep breath. It was dizzying, how quickly this lowered his heart rate. Virgil hadn’t realized how stressed he was with the fast-paced changes of this situation.

The hardwood floor creaking indicated that Deceit had moved from the kitchen to the hallway. His footsteps echoed away down the hall.

“You want some tea?” Virgil heard the Thief ask.

He shook his head. He just wanted to lay down for now.

“Deceit? Tea?”

“I’m fine, thank you. May I go upstairs?”

“Intrusion doesn’t seem to be something you worry about, given how you went through my kitchen.”

Deceit didn’t grace that with a response, and Virgil heard his footsteps tapping up the stairs.

Silence again. He hummed into the pillow and rolled over into his own cloak. He just needed some time.

“....Do you want something to eat?” the Thief tried and, again, Virgil shook his head.

“‘M good.”

“Mhm.”

The Thief went around the kitchen calmly. Virgil could hear it. His steps were soft, though not as quiet as Deceit’s. More just….comfortable. Not as heavy as Romans typically would be, either.

Virgil sat upright slowly, still hugging one of the cushions, and looked up. The Thief’s gloves were sitting on the counter, as was the Thief himself, cradling a mug in heavily-scarred hands. Virgil actually did a small double-take upon seeing them.

The Thief raised an eyebrow, questioning.

“....Your hands’re fucked up,” Virgil stated.

He got a nod back. “Wow, I had no idea ‘bout that. Not like they’re on my body or anything.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. Roman always was a smartass. “No shit. Were….Roman’s hands aren’t like that, right?”

The Thief took a sip from the mug and did a so-so motion with his hand. “Yes and no. All my scars are definitely real. It’s not like we get out of every scrap with creatures, monsters, villains, the like without any damage. But Roman just sorta conjures flatter skin on top of it.”

Virgil frowned. There were a lot of questions he had for that, but he didn’t want to bombard him just this second. “That’s pretty weird, not gonna lie. So they normally heal into scars?” he gestured to the Thief, who nodded.

“Yeah, and it’s better to conjure up new skin than make you all worried.”

He must have recoiled, because the Thief laughed a little at him and took another sip. He wiped his mouth with the butt of his palm, shaking his head and speaking into his hand. “C’mon, you can’t tell me Patt wouldn’t flip if he saw this shit.”

Patton….very much would. All of them would, if Roman ever came in with that many scars. He was scared of what they’d say.

Virgil was getting a clearer image of the Thief’s intentions every minute. Still, for now, he just shrugged and conceded. “You’re right, I guess.”

The Thief nodded, opening his mouth to continue, but Deceit’s footsteps hopping down the stairs interrupted him. The snake in question popped out around the spiral staircase’s bend, and Virgil saw that he’d removed his hat and cloak somewhere. He had a hand raised, too, to get their attention.

“Thief, question. Well. First, the top floor is beautiful — marvelous work,” the Thief raised his glass, but otherwise didn’t react. Must not be so susceptible to flattery, Deceit noted. “I saw a city. A modern looking one, behind the mountains.”

“Oh, yeah.”

The Thief took another sip of his drink and motioned for Deceit to sit by pulling out a stool from beneath the counter, with his leg. “That’s just another setting. We don’t always adhere to a medieval theme in here, but right now we’ve kinda fallen back on the Disney royalty theme because it’s something we’re familiar with. That, and we can all agree it’s marvelous.”

“I see,” Deceit sat beside Virgil, crossing his legs on the cushion. “So you’re never going to change the setting, though?”

Deceit thought it was a fair question, but the Thief let out a short laugh. “Are you kidding? We’d have to flip everything around! God, we’d need new names, too, and new hiding places. It’s all too much work.”

He took another sip, then set his mug down. Deceit then noticed his hands, brow furrowing. He opened his mouth to bring it up, but Virgil elbowed him in the side and waved his hand.

He’d explain later. Best not interrupt, because the Thief rubbed his mouth and continued. “I don’t even think we can. It’d need to be a unanimous decision, like a coherent thought, and we’re not really capable of that right now.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Virgil asked.

The Thief looked at them both. He seemed to be debating something.

This Roman took his time with his words. That must mean he had a lot to hide, Deceit thought, or he didn’t want to expose certain ideas.

“For one. Dragon would kill us.”

Ah. “Dragon?” Deceit asked, “Care to elaborate?”

The Thief looked at his knees, then hopped off of the counter. “I’m going to make dinner,” he said, voice a little more airy, clearly trying to deflect from this conversation, “Spaghetti okay?”

“Tell us about Dragon,” Virgil pressed harder.

The Thief shot him a squinted look and relented as he set up the pot of water. “He’s another one of us, another Roman,” his voice held so much disdain. “He’s dramatic, loud, all that good stuff, but the biggest thing about him is that he really likes being right.”

“You don’t like him,” Deceit stated.

“Can’t say I’m a fan.”

He opened a cupboard and took out a box of pasta. He cleared his throat, glancing up at the two expectant faces before relenting again.

“He’s a bit of a sadist. Like….he moved into the castle. He controls the guards. They all listen to ‘Roman,’” here, the Thief did air quotations, “But they aren’t sentient enough to notice that there are seven of us now, so they listen to the guy who took charge. Dragon.”

A villain part of Roman, apparently. One who would attack the others, if the way they found the Thief being chased by guards was any indication. Virgil stood up, going into the kitchen. “Where’re the plates?” he asked quietly, “‘M gonna set the table.”

The Thief nodded to one of the cabinets and Virgil opened it, taking out some plates. He set them down on the counter only for them to be picked up by Deceit and dispersed around the peninsula, where the three counter stools were.

“Dragon,” Deceit reminded, and the Thief sighed.

“Before you guys showed up, he caught another one of us. Another Roman. And, God….” his voice trailed off.

The pot was boiling. The Thief put the noodles in, taking a wooden spoon and easing them into the water. He seemed to roll something around in his head, lolling back and forth, before grimacing and continuing. “He….he did a lot of bad things to Damsel, the other Roman. Beat him publicly, in the village’s central square so all the characters got to see. So that we could all see. It was horrifying.”

A chill swept through the glassless windows of the tree.

“That’s….” Virgil and Deceit spoke at the same time.

“Dark.”

“Awful.”

They shared a look before turning back to Thief, who was churning the noodles, eyes glued to the rising steam and boiling water. It was surprising that the steam didn’t put out any of the candles, actually.

He looked forlorn, lost and defeated. “It was like a warning, to the rest of us. Don’t get caught, or else.”

Deceit picking up the conversation. “I didn’t realize there was a part of Roman willing to do….that. And for what?”

“For approval. And what can I say? He lives for validation, would kill for it, too. We all know you’re in here, so he’s definitely hunting you guys, maybe to gloat and probably hoping you all will tell him he did good,” the way Thief said it sounded almost too nonchalant, like it were forceful.

He turned off the stove top’s heat — hang on, Deceit thought, a stove?! Well, fuck the theme-ing then. This was a neverending hell of inconsistencies — and pulled a strainer out from another cabinet. Slowly, the Thief strained out the water, talking all the while.

“He probably wants to….” his eyes flicked up at them, quick as a flash, and he let out a small exhale. “I dunno. He’s a bit of a dice roll. One second, he’s talking about how much he wants all of you to love him, brushing his hair in the mirror and painting his nails, just being harmless, and the other second he’s talkin’ about how much he wants to dismember you and throw your bodies into locked boxes in the river.”

Virgil and Deceit exchanged a look, one worried and one determined. They were safe, knew how to defend themselves, and had the means with which to defend themselves, but….

Virgil’s brow furrowed. Logan and Patton were out there somewhere. And there was a bit of Roman that seemed happy to kill literally anything.

He looked up at Deceit, who was watching him with squinted eyes. Logan and Patton must be fine. They must be.

What if they weren’t? Virgil squinted right back at him. They could be hurt.

No, they were fine.

The Thief cleared his throat, cutting through the tension like a knife and drawing both of their attentions back to him. He was heating up some sauce now, mixing in some herbs with what looked like a tomato-paste base, eyes shifting between Virgil and Deceit.

The staredown lasted for a minute or two before he relented, exhaling and hitting his spoon on the side of the pan.

“Let’s….pause, for a hot sec. Dinner’s almost done and, after that, you both should sleep,” his voice carried like a whisper around the small kitchen.

Neither of them responded, and the Thief just kept cooking. He slowly poured the noodles into the sauce, mixing up a little before gesturing to the pasta.

He couldn’t honestly expect them to just drop the conversation like that. Could he?

“We are going to have to confront Dragon,” Deceit raised an eyebrow at him, “You know that, right?”

The Thief shrugged. He picked up a plate, took out a pair of tongs, and began putting pasta on the plate. “Probably. I can’t help you there, though. I’ve just been setting off all the booby traps in the castle, so he gets stuck in them. And stealing his jewelry. He’s got a hoard of it.”

Like a dragon, Virgil thought. And with scales, probably, and claws. And wings. Maybe he breathed fire.

He was frightened to all heck, but if they wanted Roman back, they’d have to….what. Talk with him? Probably talk with him.

He looked at Deceit, who was looking at the pasta, and then he heard his own stomach growl. The Thief had sat down at one of the peninsula stools, pointedly ignoring them for his noodles.

Then, he giggled. The Thief covered his mouth with a hand, but they both could see that a broad smile was behind it.

“What?” Deceit asked, raising an eyebrow.

“The Child just said the Social Nerd-work’s name. That means Dad-ton Abbey and him’re safe at the Artist’s house,” he explained, waving a hand and swirling his pasta on a fork, “Wow.”

Wow indeed. A little bit of the tension in Virgil’s shoulders released. Patton and Logan were safe, fine, hidden away with another less-murderous Roman. That was some good news.

….Well. Virgil sighed, more at ease now, and relented to the pasta. As he sat at the counter, Deceit went to make himself a plate.

They ate in nearly absolute silence, none of them wanting to mention the lack of a plan and the looming fear of this villainous Roman who apparently wanted to kill them all.

Deceit finished first, and he ran his hand through his hair, smoothing it back. “We’re sleeping here, correct? I also don’t suppose you have a shower or something?”

Thief pointed down a hall. “We might have an aesthetic going, but I’d die without a whole bathroom set up. Down and to the left, there’re towels in the side closet,” he took a final bite and set his fork down, standing up

“Thank you,” Deceit said, shooting Virgil a small look as he ducked toward the bathroom.

Deceit probably wanted him to ask more about the situation. Virgil tiredly continued to eat, but the pit that was opening his stomach was taking up more room than the pasta could fill. It was clear that the Thief — both of the Romans they’d interacted with, but right now, the Thief — trusted Virgil a lot more than Deceit. At least it showed a certain awareness on Roman’s part of Deceit’s trickery?

And it wasn’t like Virgil could help how upset he was by all this. It was a stressful situation and had a stressfully silent week before it.

“I also,” Virgil looked back up at the Thief, who gestured to Virgil’s plate, “Forgot to thank you all. For coming after us. Honestly didn’t expect it.”

Virgil nodded and carefully stood up from his stool. The Thief smiled and took the plate, but his brows were pinched. He wanted an explanation, didn’t he? It felt like a weird thing to need to explain. It was obvious. Wasn’t it?

“We were worried,” it sounded lame aloud, but the Thief just nodded in response.

“Thanks,” he put the plates into the sink and pointed down the hall, too. “You should go check out a room, too. Maybe change into some pajamas or something more comfortable? There’re, uh, pajamas. I’m just going to do the dishes then head to bed myself.”

Again, Virgil nodded. He was at a loss for words, honestly, and that was all a lot of information to process.

Take one thing at a time, though. That was what the Thief was suggesting, wasn’t it? “Sure thing,” he said, dashing away immediately.

The hall was dark, long, and curved. There were candles floating along the walls, same as out in the living area, and there were doors on either side. One already had Deceit’s double-snake-head logo shining yellow. Besides that door was another, unmarked door, but Virgil could hear a shower coming from inside.

He needed to get a room, first. Across from the bathroom was another unmarked door, probably a bedroom, and Virgil ducked into it, closing the door quickly.

He immediately threw himself onto the bed and rubbed his face. That probably smudged his eyeliner. It was already smudged.

No, no, he didn’t have the time to care about that. Virgil sat upright and looked around. There was a small open-fronted wardrobe pressed against the wall, with some pairs of pants and some shirts hanging on the wall. Surprisingly, they all looked to be various combinations of purple, black, and grey. He stood up, against his desire to curl into a ball and sleep on that bed for all eternity, and checked out the clothing. Yep, everything was about his aesthetic, and some even had his logo on them. Neat.

There was the bed and there was a mirror on top of the wardrobe. Around the room were some floating candles, but none were lit, and there was a light switch by the door. Virgil squinted. How the fuck did that work?

He flicked the switch and they all turned on, lit by flames. Alright. That was cool.

Virgil had to talk to the Thief. He couldn’t dance around it.

Or he could stay in here and admire how the wardrobe auto-filled with clothes that fit his style. Or he could admire the cool candle lights. Those would look sick in his room, actually. He should talk to the Thief about that, instead of literally anything else he actually had to talk to him about.

He just wanted Roman back, goddamnit. He wanted the Roman who would do outrageous things just to see Virgil smile. The one who would put on Black Cauldron for the millionth time, without complaint, when Virgil was having a bad day. He wanted the Roman who worked to improve himself and worked to include him, and didn’t shy away, and didn’t want to hide, and didn’t make him feel like he himself had overlooked something so disastrous as a crumbling self-image and gnawing concern that no one loved him.

The guilt weighed heavy in his stomach. Yeah, guilt. Virgil had felt Roman’s anxieties growing, but did he bring it up? Well, okay, he did. But every time that he did, Roman had deflected it with a witty quip or incredibly stupid comment or even that dumb, dashing smile. And then Roman would catch that he was nervous about something. He would never guess that it was himself.

Virgil could almost imagine what he’d do. Roman would take him by the hand into his room, always with the lights dimmer, more simplistic than was usual. He’d sit him in his squishy armchair, stand behind him, rub his shoulders and let him just vent.

Or maybe Roman would lead him down into the kitchen, sing a merry tune and make Virgil some peppermint tea. Swirl around in the kitchen, making jokes or telling stories, on those days where Virgil didn’t want to talk.

Ever since they’d shifted to accepting him, Roman had done his best. Extra, frivolous, occasionally over-the-top, but his fucking best. Virgil owed his best right back.

Virgil had to get him back. He had to face the music.Virgil’s fists balled at his sides as he whispered to himself, “Fuck it,” and threw open his door.

He hurried out of the hall and stopped in the entryway into the living area. The Thief was cradling another mug, sitting on a stool and staring at the flower vase sitting on the coffee table.

“Hey, Roman,” the Thief jumped and some liquid splashed out of his mug. Virgil winced. “Sorry, Thief?”

Virgil felt a little more guilty as the Thief sighed, rolling his shoulders and casting him a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, Virgil? You need anything?”

“Not really,” Virgil leaned on the wall as the Thief pulled out a roll of paper towels and tore some off. “I just wanted to say thanks. For keeping us safe. I don’t know what we would have done if you didn’t let us sleep over.”

The Thief pressed the towels to the spilt tea and matched eyes with Virgil. He gave him a reassuring albeit crooked smile, hair falling out of whatever order it’d been. It fluffed up around his face and, almost, looked like a crown. One of his hands reached up and ran through his hair, pushing it back into the messy but suave side-part Roman always had.

Hey, stop staring. Virgil blinked slowly and focused on the Thief’s words. “....probably safest place in the setting.”

He nodded, then shifted his weight, putting his hands in his pockets. Here goes. “Also, I don’t really understand why you want to be alone so badly. Like, I do, I get that feeling too sometimes, but….”

The Thief sighed, frustration laced through his breath, and Virgil added. “You know we’d miss you, Roman.”

That got him to falter. He stared at the countertop, then lifted the flower vase and cleaned beneath that. “I can’t say I wouldn’t miss you all, too,” he said. “I wish I wouldn’t. That’s more what I want. When we are all together, the best moments are so good. Nothing brings us more joy than seeing you smile and laugh at memes with us, or hearing Logan’s gasp when he reads something enticing, or watching Patton fuss around the kitchen. Heck, even Deceit’s dumb smirk makes us happy.”

Virgil could hear the “but” hanging in the air, especially once the Thief scrubbed the counter with extra vigor.

“But the lows. We can’t always handle the criticism, the shouting, the arguing and belittling. Being told we’re not enough,” he sighed, then added in a much softer voice. “That I’m not enough.”

He tossed the paper towels away into the trash bin, beneath the sink, and leaned his back on the sink’s edge. “Sometimes, I can’t help but wish I wanted to be alone. And if we self-impose that loneliness, then it might make it easier. To be alone.”

Virgil rubbed the back of his neck, watching. He’d known that they were less than supportive, on the best of days, but that was their job. Especially Virgil’s. He was the guy who was supposed to spot possible problems, things that the audience might not like, things that might endanger Thomas. He’d thought that Roman understood that he was doing it out of….

Alright, there was the L word again.

His internal monologue was interrupted when the Thief stood up straight and faced Virgil determinedly, wearing a tired smile.

“If you can convince the others, then I’ll come quiet. I just think that being alone’s….easier to handle,” he laughed a little to himself, a quiet chuckle that Virgil thought sounded hollow. “Besides, if Roman isolates himself, then it doesn’t matter if….”

His smile faltered a little, eyes seeming to watch something distantly away from Virgil. As quick as the expression came, though, it went as he looked back down at the counter. He reached up and ran his hands through his hair, settling it back.

There must be something Virgil should do or say. There must be, because sitting in silence like this — god, the Thief was gonna start crying, wasn’t he?

What wouldn’t matter? The question burned in his mind.

“....Haven’t I been through enough heartbreaks?”

The Thief’s question was so quiet, so desperate, that Virgil thought he just imagined it until a floorboard creak behind him indicated that someone had approached. He glanced back to see Deceit, hair still damp, clothed in a simple cream shirt and dark brown trousers. Pajamas, clearly, maybe taken from the room. Deceit nodded to the Thief, who was hunching over the counter, eyes stuck on the counter.

Virgil pursed his lips and made a so-so hand motion. He didn’t know exactly what was motivating the Thief, but they were getting inklings. Deceit nodded again in response and stood behind Virgil.

Who turned back to the Thief, still staring at the table. “We need you,” was how Virgil started, trying to piece together the best way to phrase what he wanted to say.

The Thief looked up at him and Virgil saw some wetness glittering in his dark brown eyes. They locked with his, not necessarily a glare nor anything aggressive. You could have convinced Virgil that the Thief was pleading. But for what, he couldn’t tell.

And then he smiled. He smiled and shook his head, looking away again.

“I…” He covered his mouth with a hand and reconsidered, shaking his head, “Nah, it’s dumb.”

“You’re not dumb, Thief.”

Virgil pushed off of the doorway to stand besides the Thief as he sank into one of the counter stools. Gently, like Roman had done for him many times, he put his hands on the Thief’s shoulders. “Can I?” he asked, voice quiet.

The Thief nodded, hand holding his mouth tight. His other hand, resting on the table and not gripping anything, had a slight tremor. Deceit stepped into the dining area, lips pinched in worry. He certainly wasn’t the one silencing the Thief, if it was anyone at all.

Virgil began rubbing the Thief’s shoulders, leaning closer and watching as his shoulders hiked up a little more. He was so tense, stiff as a rock.

“Listen. Thief,” Virgil glanced at Deceit, who was shifting his weight lamely, and nodded toward the mugs.

Deceit seemed to get the idea, because he nodded and got to work immediately. The Thief’s hand slid upward, covering his eyes now, and he shuddered as Virgil put more pressure on his shoulders. “Is this okay?” Virgil asked again, quietly, and the Thief nodded.

“Thanks,” his voice was so quiet that Virgil could barely hear him.

“You know,” Virgil hummed, quiet but determined. “I tried the whole lone-wolf thing. Thought it’d be good to keep myself separate ‘cause it would protect you all. Thought that was for the best. None of you seemed to want me back then, either.”

The Thief whined, and Virgil let up. But as his shoulders stiffened again, Virgil felt his anxiety mount. “No–uh, sorry, no that just–that was a good spot,” the Thief tried to explain, face turning redder under his hand.

Deceit snorted behind him, and Virgil kicked his heel out, managing to hit him square in the shin. He let out a chuckle when Deceit hissed in pain.

“I’m sorry. That we made you feel like that,” both of the other Sides looked at the Thief, whose hands were now both on the counter.

Virgil’s were still resting on his shoulders, so he exhaled and pressed down again. “We-We shouldn’t have—” the Thief tried to continue, but Virgil cut him off.

“Not saying you shouldn’t have, but you’ve been apologizing for it. You….all accept me, now. I’m working on getting used to that, you all work on making me feel included, and we work together. Maybe there’re highs, maybe there’re lows. That’s how everything goes, but we always get through it when we work as a team. ‘Cause teamwork makes the dream work, right?” Virgil smiled when the Thief snorted, “And we can’t make the team work without the dream.”

The Thief sat up a little more. Virgil didn’t want to pressure him or anything, so he rubbed a particularly tight knot near the base of his neck before letting go. It seemed that the Thief came to some understanding, though.

“Hot chocolate’s done,” Deceit said.

He leaned down beside Virgil and set a full mug down on the counter in front of the Thief. He then nudged Virgil’s hip with his own, holding out a mug for him but eyes not meeting Virgil’s.

That was the first bad sign. Virgil pressed his mouth into a line. Before he could make a move, though, Deceit picked up his own mug and stepped away. “I’m going to sleep,” he announced, “I can only assume tomorrow will be just as taxing as today was. Goodnight Roman. Virgil.”

Deceit’s eyes were still cast lower as he nodded once toward the Thief and once toward Virgil, and he stared at the floor as he hurried to the hallway. He disappeared down the hall, into the darkness, and they both heard his door close sharply.

Damn. So much for that truce.

Yeah, sure, Virgil wasn’t fond of Deceit. Much.

He used to be. They used to be thick as thieves — Patton would be proud of that pun, Virgil thought — and while time and responsibilities have wore down that relationship….Deceit was still important to him. Yeah, he was a bad influence, but, like….

Whatever. He didn’t care. He didn’t.

The Thief leaned back a little, head resting on Virgil’s shoulder. “You should sleep, too, Paramoody.”

His head tilted back and he smiled up at Virgil, who squinted at him. “If you fall backwards on that stool, I’m gonna laugh.”

“In fact, I’m the owner of Roman’s single braincell,” the Thief’s smile softened, “Thanks for earlier. I’ll think about that.”

His eyes were so soft. Had Roman always had that little beauty mark? Virgil really only noticed it now, with his face so close and with that weird scar pointing at it.

Not that he endorsed Roman being damaged in any physical way, but the scar was also. Pretty hot.

The Thief chuckled quietly, one hand reaching up to patt Virgil’s cheek.

His hands were a little cold, but they were soft, despite the scars. Virgil could feel him shudder a tiny bit as the Thief gently ran his thumb along his cheekbone.

Virgil felt….comfortable.

Why didn’t he want this, again? The Thief watched Virgil watching him, and saw him slowly lean his head into his hand. He must be tired, that was why Virgil was so open with him. There couldn’t have been another reason.

Still.

“Alright, you actually need to sleep, ‘cause your eyeshadow’s all over your face,” the Thief pulled his hand away and sat upright again.

As he slid off the stool, saying something about sleep and grabbing his hand, Virgil tuned him out, letting himself be pulled around.

What the hell was THAT moment? This was the absolute worst time to be reminded that he was a disaster, and the Thief must be so creeped out by how he was just staring at his goddamn face.

“And my room’s upstairs. If you go up the stairs, take a left, you’ll find me, okay?” Virgil blinked, looking up.

They were at the entrance to the hallway now. The Thief smiled kindly at him, though his brow was pinched in worry. “Have a good night, Virgil,” he whispered, hand still holding Virgil’s.

Virgil nodded, not trusting what he’d say if he opened his mouth, and met him with a small smile.

He wished had retained more of the romantic parts of Roman. Then, maybe, he’d be able to find the right words to describe how willing he was to throw this whole challenge away just to see that smile for the rest of eternity.

The Thief leaned in and pecked Virgil’s cheek. Then, he darted away, waist sash trailing up after him as he escaped up the stairs.

Virgil stared into nothing, eyes stuck to the empty staircase. Slowly, his hand lifted to his cheek, fingers grazing where the Thief’s — Roman’s — lips had been.

What the fuck.

Don’t even consider it.

He found himself walking back to the room he’d chosen — it was easy to find, his storm cloud logo was glowing a soft purple on the door — and collapsed onto the bed.

Virgil was absolutely sore from how fast his thoughts had been running today. It felt like years ago that he’d found Deceit in the hall and slammed him into the wall.

Oof. Maybe he wouldn’t sleep tonight, now that he’d remembered that. Virgil groaned into his pillow, crossing his arms over his head and pressing into it as his breathing’s erraticness increased

Deceit had been truly upset. Frustrated, angry, yeah, sure, that was the point — Virgil hadn’t expected that flash of betrayal. He couldn’t get that stupid snakey hurt expression out of his goddamn head. Plus it was just poor instincts to immediately strangle someone. And the way Deceit had slunk out of the kitchen just now, not daring to look at either of their faces.

He screamed into the pillow, pressing down into it even more. Calm down. He had to calm down.

What, why calm down now? You’d been holding this panic attack in all day, Virgil.

The pillow grew damp beneath his face; he hadn’t noticed that he was crying a little.

Virgil flipped over, now pressing the back of his head into the pillow, and wrapped his arms around his head, wiping at his eyes with his hand. He began tapping his left hand on the back of his arm, counting quietly as he inhaled, held, and exhaled.

It helped that it wasn’t completely silent. Virgil’s room had a window, a circle in above the bed. A gentle breeze wafted in, as did the sound of the trees rustling, frogs croaking, and bugs buzzing — a solid background noise to focus on, rather than the day’s events. Virgil mentally counted the frogs’ croaks as he felt his chest loosen. Maybe it was a product of being in the Imagination and, by extension, Roman’s room, but he got a grip of himself faster than usual.

As he calmed down, though, he also regained the feelings of absolute exhaustion. Calm quickly turned to drowsiness, and Virgil was asleep within seconds.

[masterskywalkers]

OC questions! Number 3, 15, 17, 21, 25, 27!

Sorry this is a few days delayed!Finally I’ve managed to answer these questions, and thank you for sending some in! I intended to go through the list they were from over the weekend and pick some interesting questions out to answer for funsies anyway (and still intend to when I have some time) but answering these ones seemed easier to do first :3

3: An OC I’ve never used for anything

I have a few, but I think I’d have to say Avery.

She has a (kind of?) backstory planned out, but nothing concrete. And because I’ve never really worked on her as extensively as I have other characters whom I spend more time on, she’s never really been used for anything. I haven’t really written anything for her, and I don’t know if I ever will. She’s just a fun self indulgent character I guess. 

15: The least painful backstory I’ve given an OC

Looking at my character list I guess I’d have to say Lizbeth, although Origins somewhat writes her backstory for her and it includes … tragedy. I don’t really write characters that haven’t faced some kind of trouble or tragedy, mostly because I like to focus on how realistic and flawed they can be. If a character has no flaws, then I’m not really interested.

17: The easiest OC for me to write

Probably Oscar, because I’ve written so much for him by now that he feels a lot like coming home when it comes to writing things for him nowadays.I also find Natalia easy to write for at times, but I think that’s because I have such a clear understanding of what direction I want to take her story in and what paths she could possibly go down depending.

21: The OC most likely to end up in a wacky [freeze frame][record scratch] “you’re probably wondering how I got here” scenario

Oscar, most likely. That boy gets himself into a lot of trouble, both in canon universe and modern universe.

25: An OC I’ve changed a LOT

Although I haven’t gotten around to a lot of the rewrites, it’s Lizbeth.She was never called Lizbeth originally but rather Elissa. I have a really old story that I’ve written for her, and next year marks ten years since I first posted it online for her and I’ve been considering rewriting it and including all the changes I’ve made for her. Since more information has come out with later games and my own headcanon has for her and Alistair’s days as Grey Warden Commanders has changed from when I first worked on her I feel as if it would be nice to do her the justice of reworking part of her story so it fits her character a lot more. Lizbeth is special to me because I feel like she’s helped me see how far I’ve come in both character creation and writing over the years. She’s a lot more developed personality wise now, and in my opinion compared to how bland she had been in the past I think she’s come a long way herself.

27: Someone else’s OC that I really admire

Too. Fucking. Many.

Not to be cheesy on main, but I absolutely adore any character you create @flyppa. Ellana feels as close as a sister to Oscar in regards to how well I feel I know her from times you’ve spoken about her and in the stories you’ve written for her, and I don’t think Natalia would be half as interesting if she didn’t bash heads with Nikias as much as she does or have Kaeri there to help and guide her. I honestly can’t wait to see how Aranthos will interact once he gets to know Sylleth better, and what will happen when you introduce your bard to us!I also adore @delta-and-omega’s Reyna (she must be protected at all cost because the group she is surrounded by is much chaotic. very trouble) and again, can’t wait to see more of her Schmendrick (even if I do feel as if we’re going to meme too hard and end up hurting ourselves at some point via our characters!). Gaming and fandom wise … I’ve always loved @lindira’s Aeric Lavellan, and this heartbreaking yet beautiful characterisation of Meetra from KOTOR. Oh! And there’s @daydreamsonacloudyday’s Charlie Shepard, who I also enjoy seeing appear on my dash. The work gone into creating her is just fabulous, and I love reading her story. @rannadylin’s characters are also always so lovely to read about, and she has so many of them to love too!But honestly, I could sit here and gush about so many talented people I’ve met and spoken to on both this site and outside it over the years, or fangirl over favourite characterisations of original characters that I’ve found in fanfiction. Seeing people pour so much love and effort into their characters is honestly so heart warming, and I usually turn all ‘heart eyes, motherfucker’ when someone is telling me about their characters or I’m reading through a character page or something.

Questions taken from this original character ask meme.

[lunima]

Shipping Info Meme

Answer the following for your muse so people know how shipping works on your blog.

WHAT IS YOUR OTP FOR YOUR CHARACTER?:

In her canon probably Ez / Death ( NOT IN THE WAY UR THINKING AJEGND ) Because she’s veritably the First Spirit and conscious life incarnate, she has a very special relationship with Death. She has so much tenderness in her heart for them. Because she is what she is, Ezra doesn’t have the same fear of death others might. Death is a loving guide that leads you to somewhere better. Every path leads straight to Them. Because she’s immortal, unless her body is dying they cannot be with each other. There’s always that thin veil that separates the two. 

Most of my ships are ones that have yet to be developed on the dash, but my partners and I have talked about extensively on discord and what not. Ezra’s longest and most established ships to date are with Jordy’s Original Character, Ryan @urulxce​ and also her Peter Quill @elataan​

WHAT ARE YOU WILLING TO WRITE WHEN IT COMES TO SHIPPING?

Just about anything tbh ( within reason ofc, y’all already know ) I’m here for all of the genre’s and all of the plots.

HOW LARGE DOES THE AGE GAP HAVE TO BE TO MAKE IT UNCOMFORTABLE?

No one under 21 tbh. Ezra is physically 25-27 in a lot of her current verses ( and spiritually older than time ) and and even if it’s legal anything younger is just weird to BOTH of us. If u can’t buy a drink in amurica ur a baby.

ARE YOU SELECTIVE WHEN SHIPPING?

I always say that I am but as soon as someones like ‘...yo... u wanna make ‘em kiss.’ I’m like ‘u bet ur sweet ass I do...’ lmao. The thing about shipping with me is that it takes like 293085 years to actually make it onto the dash ( at least on my end ) Once the first interactions are out of the way and we have a solid plot in place, I love love love talking dynamics with my friends. It makes writing threads more enjoyable when you know where they’re going and lbr its just fun to scream and your pals and fling angst and n.sfw at them when they least expect it. 

HOW FAR DO STEAMY MOMENTS HAVE TO GO BEFORE THEY ARE CONSIDERED NS/FW?

I like to be safe, so if clothes start coming off in any capacity I generally start tagging.

WHO ARE OTHER THE CHARACTERS YOU SHIP YOUR CHARACTER WITH?

I have some WONDERFUL and v soft ships with @crownedclaw ,  @cailicah , and  @fateinexorable ! Jaime, Cain and Shane are so good to my girl.

DOES ONE HAVE TO ASK TO SHIP WITH YOU?:

PLEASE, GOD. As a female OC ( hell, as a female character in general ) I never want to push my luck with anyone, especially canon characters ‘cause well... you know lol. If you wanna ship just COME AT ME and we’ll talk about it and see how we can bring them together in an organic way, or if you see potential in a thread we have. 

HOW OFTEN DO YOU LIKE TO SHIP?

I don’t really have an answer? I suppose whenever the fancy strikes. I like to keep shipping a fun and laid back thing so it’s just whenever it happens~ Ez is simultaneously easy AND difficult to ship with at the same time. She has A Lot of shit going on and a lot of baggage associated with it that can make her... Challenging. But being what she is, this chick’s got a LOT of love in her heart and desperately wants to BE loved sometimes so here we are ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  If ur ready for a damn ride buckle up sonny. 

ARE YOU SHIP OBSESSED OR SHIP MORE-OR-LESS?:

More-or-less unless we’ve already got something going. THEN I’d say I’m pretty ship obsessed ( just ask the aforementioned people. I’M NOT SORRY!! ) 

ARE YOU MULTISHIP?

Yep! 

WHAT IS/ARE YOUR FAVOURITE SHIP(S) IN YOUR CURRENT FANDOM?:

I AM MY OWN FANDOM!!! Honestly I haven’t gotten around to plotting any canon relationships for Ezra, outside of her lil shadow demon buddy ( which is more of an unspoken thing??? maybe?? she won’t tell me so we don’t know yet ) 

FINALLY, HOW DOES ONE SHIP WITH YOU?:

I feel like I’ve answered this one already :thinking: deadass just interact with me and we’ll see where it goes from there. The only lasting ships I’ve had over the last few years are with friends I talk to on a semi regular basis. Communication is SO important or things just tend to fizzle out ( story AND ship-wise ) you have to be excited to want to write these things and p much the only way that happens is if you hype each other up out of character~

Tagged by: @fractempyreal !! Thank you friend!

Tagging: @voxaer / @cailicah / @desperatous / @liberons / @silverskins / @fateinexorable / @arcusignis / @crownedclaw / @knightfailed / @starszakrew / @glysimachia / @magicrot / @asheat + ANYONE ELSE THAT WANTS TO just say I tagged you~

[fallnangelcreations]

Closed starter for @kettuskinchanger​

X for Arthur Morgan, from this meme: “Send ‘X’ to find my muse beaten, bloody, and left for dead.”

Horse hooves thundered down a dirt road, yelling and gunfire could be heard in the distance, followed by a loud explosion that shook the surrounding area. But Arthur didn’t look back, he couldn’t, it would take too much time, too much focus, and he didn’t have a second to spare.

Guiding his horse off the main path and into the trees, he could hear the shouts coming up behind him as a team of horses chased after him, their riders with firearms trained on the outlaw making his escape.

Dodging through the trees, Arthur sped. His horse panting heavily and grunting in complaint, barely missing tree after tree.  Arthur turned back, firing off a couple of shots; one landed in a passing oak, and one struck home, causing one of the lawmen to cry out and topple from his horse.

“Hyaa!” Arthur shouted, clasping the reigns, urging his mare to run faster. She was pushed to capacity, and if she had to endure any more she would surely buck him off. The cowboy knew this, and despite the chaos erupting around him, he reached down to pet the horse’s neck, a sincere effort to calm her. “I’m sorry gir-”

His words fell short. A searing hot pain tore through his lower right side, then another through his right shoulder, his left thigh, and his left bicep. All was quiet. Not a sound reached him for that stabbing second, then it all came rushing back at once.

Bang Bang Bang Bang!

The gunshots, his horse crying, his own voice yelping in shock and pain, and the pursuit in progress behind him.

A new sensation hit him as his stomach reached his throat, weightless for a split second he was sent flying through the air, then impacted the ground with a bone-shattering thud. His horse had bucked him, and now dashed off through the trees.

Arthur’s vision went black upon impact, and a second later his eyes opened, but he could only see stars. His chest felt heavy, he tried to take in a breath, but couldn’t inhale. The wind knocked out of his already strained lungs caused panic to send his system into overdrive. It felt like he was drowning in the air.

Just as the edges of his vision started to fade to black, his body convulsed and forced a sharp intake of breath. It felt like hours, but in reality it had been a matter of seconds, and the two remaining lawmen who had shot him down right were on him. Dismounting and rushing toward him with weapons drawn.

In that moment, Arthur realized two things. 1.) He couldn’t feel pain anymore. And 2.) He still had a revolver in his hand.

In one swift gesture the outlaw raised the gun, pulled the hammer back with his thumb, and fired. The nearest badge cried out, and fell, the remaining following suit an additional gunshot later.

The gunshot echoed through the trees, and Arthur fell back onto the dry leaves beneath him. No... they weren’t dry, they were wet, why were they wet? This wasn’t the swamp.

It was dark, but the moon shone sparse beams of light through the shifting canopy of leaves overhead, allowing the man to see a dark puddle forming around him. His own blood.

The cowboy cursed under his rattling breath. He wasn’t able to register how badly he had been hurt, only that he was shot. Still panting for every inhale, Arthur tried to stand, but didn’t even make it to his knees before catching a face full of dirt and sticks.

With a determined grunt he inched forward, in what he prayed was the direction of his horse. There was a medical pack with her. If he could just get to his horse he would be alright. “Y- you can do .. it.. Morgan..” He spoke to himself, desperate for any sense of encouragement he could feel. “Almost the-” ...

Silence.

[blckmrcls]

rules.

one.   selective and private.

this means i will not follow everyone back.     if i don’t see us interacting,  i won’t follow back.     and if we haven’t interacted within around two weeks of following each other,  then i most likely will unfollow.     i like having my dash clean.     i’m also mutuals - only,  which means that all open starters and starter calls are for mutuals only,  as well as memes.

two.   following back.

i won’t follow back if you:   post hateful content aka anything homophobic,  transphobic,  racist etc.     i also won’t follow if you post too much ooc.     from time to time is okay,  i do it,  too,  but not when ooc > ic.     i also won’t follow any 13 reasons why blogs,  multis with muses are okay,  but i will probably block your tags for the characters.     and same goes for any descendant muses.

three.   memes.

never shy away from sending them in.     whether we’ve roleplayed for years now,  or if we’re new mutuals.     also,  it’s okay to send in as many as you please.     i might not answer all,  but the more you send,  the bigger chances of me actually answering anything,  tbh.     i no longer put a lot of priority to memes,  though.     they get done slowly,  and not at all in any order,  so keep that in mind. 

four.   triggers.

i don’t personally have any triggers that need tagging.     if anything comes up,  will definitely let everyone know,  but as of now,  i’m good with anything.     however,  if you need any tagging,  just let me know.      i do read everyone’s rules,  but after a time i forget,  i’m only human.     so if i forget to tag something,  just shoot me a message and i will do better in the future.     i want you all to enjoy dumblr.

five.   shipping.

i like shipping.     i like it a lot.     however,  wendesday is not an easily shippable character and i do not intend to compromise her character for the sake of a ship. i also roleplay her as a comphet lesbian who is demiromantic and asexual which i will get into in my headcanons. so, if you're only following for a ship, i am not the person. everything with wendesday is a slow burn, romantic or platonic. additionally, i solely roleplay her as a minor so no nsfw or smut will be present here.

six.   pre-plotting.

this blog is mainly plotting - based.     i do enjoy threads which have been at least slightly thought - out and when i have some kind of path to guide me.     this doesn’t mean i won’t do random threads,  but it does mean those will be most likely quickly dropped and i won’t be telling you about it.

seven.   my take on wendesday.

as you may have read in my about section and in rule no.5, i have my own take on wendesday. i will be roleplaying her as a comphet lesbian, but i will be acknowledging what happened in s1 (further explained in a headcanon). she is also demiromantic and it takes a lot for her to create a romantic connection with anyone (not to be mistaken with her being romantic because that will not happen), and she is asexual. i am still figuring out to what level her asexuality extends and that will likely come as i write her, but she is definitely not within the socially described norm when it comes to sexual desires. moreover, i've headcanoned that she is autistic and has ocd (i feel like both are self explanatory but nonetheless, headcanons will be made). lastly, i am going to try and focus on wendesday's latin american heritage, which means that i will attempt to have her speak spanish more (mine is v rusty and it's european spanish, so any native speakers are always welcomed to correct me if i ever do anything injustice) and connect with her culture.

eight.   mun.

hello,  i go by tosia.     she/her,  of age.     english is not my first language,  but i do live in the uk.     love quoting vine and tiktok.     hmu if you’re on gae witch kinktok pls.     i’m very easily approachable,  honestly.     never fear of contacting me,  just keep in mind that should we hit off,  i will not leave u alone,  lol.

[desrvsbetter]

RULES.

one.   selective and private.

this means i will not follow everyone back.     if i don’t see us interacting,  i won’t follow back.     and if we haven’t interacted within around two weeks of following each other,  then i most likely will unfollow.     i like having my dash clean.     i’m also mutuals - only,  which means that all open starters and starter calls are for mutuals only,  as well as memes.

two.   following back.

i won’t follow back if you:   post hateful content aka anything homophobic,  transphobic,  racist etc.     i also won’t follow if you post too much ooc.     from time to time is okay,  i do it,  too,  but not when ooc > ic.     i also won’t follow any 13 reasons why blogs,  multis with muses are okay,  but i will probably block your tags for the characters.     and same goes for any descendant muses.

three.   memes.

never shy away from sending them in.     whether we’ve roleplayed for years now,  or if we’re new mutuals.     also,  it’s okay to send in as many as you please.     i might not answer all,  but the more you send,  the bigger chances of me actually answering anything,  tbh.     i no longer put a lot of priority to memes,  though.     they get done slowly,  and not at all in any order,  so keep that in mind.

four.   triggers.

i don’t personally have any triggers that need tagging.     if anything comes up,  will definitely let everyone know,  but as of now,  i’m good with anything.     however,  if you need any tagging,  just let me know.      i do read everyone’s rules,  but after a time i forget,  i’m only human.     so if i forget to tag something,  just shoot me a message and i will do better in the future.     i want you all to enjoy dumblr.

five.   shipping.

i like shipping.     i like it a lot.     i wanna say i won’t focus on it but i absolutely will,  who am i kidding.     however,  i’m so down to do platonic,  friendships,  frenemies,  enemies,  anything.

six.   pre-plotting.

this blog is mainly plotting - based.     i do enjoy threads which have been at least slightly thought-out and when i have some kind of path to guide me.     this doesn’t mean i won’t do random threads,  but it does mean those will be most likely quickly dropped and i won’t be telling you about it.

seven.   nsfw.

this blog will contain a lot of nsfw content.     that includes sexual,  gore,  violence and language.     the gorier the better for me,  sorry but not at all.     and i write a lot of smut,  which i’m also not at all sorry for.     i enjoy it.     there will be a lot of sexual graphics here etc too,  so if that’s not something you enjoy on your dash,  you shouldn’t follow me.      however,  everything will be tagged accordingly.

eight.   mun.

hello,  i go by tosia.     she/her,  of age.     english is not my first language,  but i do live in the uk.     love quoting vine ad tiktok.     hmu if you’re on gae witch kinktok pls.     i’m very easily approachable,  honestly.     never fear of contacting me,  just keep in mind that should we hit off,  i will not leave u alone,  lol.

[cavaliant]

What kind of hot is your muse?

rockstar hot:

you're wanted. by crowds of people. a heart-throb, who people hang posters of in their room and tell their friends is "so dreamy." you may not even be a celebrity, you could just be the star of your school. but what you and rockstars have in common is that your entire routine is very well-rehearsed, and you know exactly the right words, the right looks, to draw people's attention. you're a performance, you're an act, a hyperbolized version of a human being that others can get lost in. it's so easy for people to crush on you because they don't realize they don't know anything about you. you're an archetype, a character for others to project onto, and damn if it isn't a fun role to play.

“......”

Starts belting out some sick beats about Blood and Prey (tm)