#AND learn all these new skills and specific things to say and in what order

[hollowdeath]

I LOVEEEEE YOUR HARRY FICSSSS 😭😭🙏🙏 I literally cannot get enough, your harry fics are amazing ❤️

I was wondering if you'd be willing to do an enemies to lovers type thing with dark!harry, similar to the one you did with "the dark side" fic, but maybe they're rivals due to quittich, yet they both just have tension they don't know gow to handle, so one day they just kind of get so worked up in an argument they start making out. (P.S. I loved the thing you did where harry came from y/n saying he hated him 😫😫 also the part where harry gets turned on from y/n scolding him. If possible, could you incorporate that in there? Thank you smm ❤️❤️) I hope it's not too much trouble ❤️❤️❤️

thank you so much for requesting this, i hope you enjoy!!!

pairing: slytherin!harry james potter x gryffindor!fem!reader (18+)

summary: you and harry have been quidditch rivals ever since you've become captain of the gryffindor team. the tension between you two rises until one of you needs bandaged up by the other, leading to you making a discovery about the school's bad boy that leaves you baffled and insanely curious.

cw: smut!!! angst, mentions of blood, degradation kink, sub!harry x dom!reader, dry humping

word count: 7k

it was your final year at hogwarts and, more importantly to you, it was your last year as the gryffindor quidditch captain. you took major pride in your status as captain, and dedicated a majority of your time outside of class to leading practice, coming up with new plays, and making sure that annoyingly good slytherin captain kept his distance from you and your team.

harry potter was well known at hogwarts years before he even came through. the boy who lived, or whatever. you had never paid him much mind to begin with because you knew he reveled in his own notoriety.

see, potter wasn't just the slytherin quidditch captain. he was the most vile, egotistical, disrespectful wizard you'd ever had the misfortune of interacting with. on top of thinking he was some kind of miracle that blessed everyone's presence wherever he went, he specifically treated you worse than the mud on his shoes. not just because of your status as gryffindor captain, but because you were the only student who wasn't afraid to stand your ground with him. had it not been for quidditch practice 4 times a week and games every friday, you would've done everything you could to keep your distance. however, things didn't work out that way, and you ended up forming a sort of rivalry with the boy that the student body found all too exciting.

it started last year when potter and his friends made a dumb poster and hung it up in every boys bathroom: a drawing of someone falling off their broom with your face printed out and glued to it, along with harry's whose drawing had just knocked you off victoriously. they had put "[y/l/n] vs potter: this friday at 6" at the top like it was some kind of promotional advert. and, as much as you hated it, it actually somewhat worked.

from that game on, the other kids began picking sides every week to see who would win. the crowd turnout became the largest it had been in your entire time at hogwarts. some came in support of potter or were otherwise afraid of what would happen if they didn't, while a good amount of students started to become your biggest supporters the more you showed your skills in the game.

see, you didn't just become captain by having a recognizable last name unlike some other people; you had been playing quidditch since you could fly from a young age, and made the team every single year before finally being nominated for the position by your own teammates. you made a promise to them that day that slytherin would no longer be known as the winning house, and that they finally had some competition to sweat over.

and sweat they did. your first game as captain was an easy win, and so were the next 3. it wasn't until the slytherin players learned they actually had to try in order to win now that they began winning every other game as well. that's where harry stepped in.

harry was someone you always tried to avoid during your years at hogwarts. you didn't socialize with many slytherins to begin with as you found some of them to be rather grating and obnoxious, but especially not with slytherins like potter. it was students like him that gave the entire house a bad name. everyone thought he was so charming besides his cocky attitude, but you saw through his act right away. you think that's partially why he singled you out of anyone as his target.

once he set his sights on you, it was impossible to avoid him. it's like he had some sort of tracker on you the way he always managed to pop up in the most random of places simply to upset you. not that you'd be surprised, as along with harry's sickening bravado came his disregard for moral ethics. if there was a way to cheat, lie, or steal your way into getting what you wanted, potter was already on it. he knew no bounds when it came to his little schemes either. from stealing your game plays and sharing them with his teammates to spreading rumors about your players to playing clearly illegal moves during the game only for nobody to notice but you, potter seemed to revel in the rivalry everyone pushed onto you.

you hated giving him the satisfaction of breaking your cold demeanor, but sometimes his antics pushed you too far. he knows how protective you've become over your teammates, so he'll target them when he can't get to you, especially the younger ones. this is where you've blown your cover quite a few times as you can't stand seeing your first years cower in fear anytime they see potter. yelling, spitting, nearly getting physical with him on several occasions when he ignores your threats to leave the kids alone or else. it's as if he rather enjoys getting such a rise out of you, and not just to fuel the public rivalry.

today was your last day of practice before the last, biggest game of the semester. your team knew to meet at the field at 5 pm ready to go as you had plenty of plays you wanted to perfect before playing against the slytherins tomorrow night. practice had only just started with a few flyers in the air before you heard a commotion of voices coming from behind you.

you turned and saw harry leading his team onto the field, laughing obnoxiously and pointing at your teammates in mockery. you swear you felt steam coming from your ears when you told your team to wait and let you handle this.

you stormed up to potter with an accusatory pointed finger. "you. get the hell off my field now before i call mcgonagall out here, potter." you spit at him before pushing his chest. harry takes the push and just laughs, shaking his head at you.

"[y/l/n], i'm not sure how many professors have to tell you that this field isn't yours before you let us use it for practice as well," he said with a smirk, changing his grip on his broomstick and letting it rest on his shoulder. you narrow your eyes at him and cross your arms over your chest. "you know damn well we practice here every week at this time, and yet you're never able to find a time outside of that to spend with your own team. curious, isn't it?" you ask him sarcastically, your tone biting.

harry's smirk drops slightly. "are you suggesting that i'm trying to sabotage your chance at winning the season tomorrow? because i'd never do such a thing, [y/l/n], and it hurts that you think of me in that way." he responds just as sarcastically. a few of his players snicker and laugh just behind him, earning a nasty glare from you that has them shut up quickly.

you look back at harry who's waiting for a clever comeback from you, nearly on the edge of his seat to see what you have to say this time. you hate how much he thrives off getting you upset.

"fine. practice, then. you'll need it." you tell harry with a cold tone, giving him a disgusted look up and down. you take a step forward and point your finger back into harry's chest, your faces less than a foot away from each other. "but if you mess with any of my players, even as a joke, i will gut you like a fucking fish." you tell him in a hushed tone. you think you see his pupils dilate slightly, but you were probably mistaken. "got it?"

harry's smirk only grows as he starts backing away slowly. "got it, princess." he laughs, turning to his little group of followers for approval before they run off to the other goal post opposite from your team. the nickname is new, and for some reason it made your stomach drop and heart race like crazy. that potter kid just knew exactly how to get under your skin.

you tried to focus on your own team's plays for the rest of practice, but you could clearly hear harry and his friends saying your name and laughing too often for your comfort. anytime you happened to make eye contact with harry, you made sure to scowl at him and promptly turn your attention away. just his sheer presence made your blood boil and skin crawl.

for the most part there were no issues in the sky, the slytherins mostly kept to their side besides the few times harry's friends were messing around and ended up coming close to a few of your teammates. you scolded them each time, but they would only laugh at you and fly off to tell harry about your outbursts. other than that, you ended up getting a lot accomplished in order to be prepared for the game the next day.

however, towards the end of practice, your teammates were having some difficulty with a new technique you taught them, so you took the time to demonstrate it with another player in the sky. you were just about to start instructing when your teammates started calling out to you frantically. you didn't have enough time to process what they were warning you about before you felt someone fly into you from behind, nearly causing you to fall off your broomstick.

you could feel yourself falling to the ground, but your grip on your broomstick remained tight enough to quickly get it under you just in time to somewhat break your landing. you tumbled to the ground with a pained groan, and heard someone else fall just to your left. you could feel the wind get knocked out of you in the air, so it took a moment for you to properly breathe as you tried to sit up.

your teammates got to you in seconds, asking if you were okay and trying to help you up. that's when the pain set in. standing up-right you could feel your rib cage aching and your shoulder throbbing. "i'm fine, i'm fine," you told everyone, brushing off the grass stains on your clothes. you turned to see who had fallen next to you, and who else would be lying there but harry potter as his slytherin teammates rushed to his aid as well.

they're helping him stand up and you can feel the rage building inside you. you break away from your teammates' grasps and march up to harry as he's wiping the grass stains off his own clothes as well.

"you did that on purpose, you pest." you snap at him. harry looks at you incredulously as he fixes his practice jersey. "are you mad? it was an accident, i wasn't looking where i was going, drama queen." he snaps back, giving you a dirty look up and down. you can feel your jaw clenching and fists balling at your sides. "oh yeah, sure, you just so happened to run into me of all people in the sky. you know, you're such a…"

you pause in your anger noticing a gash on the side of harry's face with blood starting to drip down his cheekbone. harry notices your concern and gives you a confused look. you sigh and instinctively pull down the sleeve of your sweatshirt to hold it against his wound. "now you have a giant cut on your face, for fuck's sake," you tell him, your voice a mix of panic and exasperation. harry winces at your hand making contact with his face, but his eyes grow with concern hearing your panic.

you turn to your team and start guiding harry towards the school. "practice is over, do not be late tomorrow." you announce to them hurriedly, trying to keep your sleeve against harry's injury as you rush him off the field.

harry actually manages to stay quiet on the way to the infirmary despite your anticipation to shush him the entire way for making crude jokes. instead he remains silent and lets you urgently guide him through the empty halls.

once you arrive at the infirmary wing, you notice the entire room is full of people. every bed is taken, ans every nurse is running around frantically from patient to patient. you and harry share a confused look before you roll your eyes and find a nurse between beds. "excuse me, ma'am, i'm sorry to bother but um, potter here was being an idiot and got a cut on his face that just needs to be bandaged quickly." you motion towards harry and feel him give you a nasty look out of your peripheral for calling him an idiot.

the nurse, completely exhausted, sighs and motions towards a room to the side of the check-in station. "look, we are swamped with a potion experiment gone wrong here. if it's just a cut that doesn't need stitches there's a first aid kit in the little room over that way." she tells you quickly before being called away to another patient. you try to intervene but she's already jogging away, leaving you with a bloody harry in your hands. literally.

you sigh, clearly annoyed, and turn to examine harry's cut again. pulling your blood-soaked sleeve away, you see the blood flow still hasn't slowed and decide to just bite your tongue and help harry despite your hatred for him only growing in this situation.

you drag harry towards the little room, opening the door and turning on the lights to reveal the smallest examination room you'd ever seen. you had no idea this was even here, but it only contained a sink, a cot, a locked medicine cabinet, and a first aid kit. you closed the door behind harry and locked it. you grab a few paper towels from next to the sink and walk harry over to the cot. "sit," you command him, practically pushing him with your other hand to sit down.

harry looks up at you softly, way softer than he's ever looked at you. it makes your heart skip a beat but you ignore the feeling quickly. "here," you tell him coldly, handing over the paper towels. "just apply pressure on it while i get the first aid kit."

harry does as he's told and you slowly pull away your sleeve, making a disgusted face at the stains left on the cuff. you sigh and pull your arm back through the sleeve, starting to take off the hoodie altogether. "well, that's ruined," you complain, throwing it to the floor, leaving you in a tiny tank top and workout shorts.

harry's watching you intently, adjusting his glasses and shifting his weight in his seat. you walk to the sink and thoroughly wash your hands in case any blood happened to get on you as well.

opening the first aid kit up you find a tiny bottle of isopropyl alcohol, cotton rounds, and bandages. pouring alcohol on the cotton, you turn to harry and still find him watching you.

you give him a look. "what?" you ask with pinched brows. harry, for once, looks flustered as he turns his eyes away from you, instead staring at the floor below his feet. you just roll your eyes and set down the alcohol, walking towards harry and pulling away his hand from his cheek.

"here," you say, moving his jaw to look up towards you. "this is gonna hurt a little," you tell him before gently cleaning the cut with the cotton round. harry winces, but his eyes never leave your face. you try to ignore his gaze but it becomes even more intense the longer you take to stop the bleeding. you can practically feel his stare burning holes into your skin, and you start to feel that familiar annoyance rise in your stomach.

"i know i'm pretty, potter, but can't you look anywhere else?" you complain, giving him a cold look before returning your attention to his cheek. harry's eyes drop again, but end up falling on your chest this time. you back away and scoff, throwing the cotton pad into the trash next to the cot. "perv," you mutter under your breath.

just as you're preparing the bandage on the counter next to the sink, you hear harry say something from behind you. "you're gonna have to speak up, kid," you chuckle, throwing away some wrapping in the trash. "your, um, your back," you hear him stutter.

you turn to give him a confused look. "what?" you ask. harry motions towards your back, and you turn to look at yourself in the mirror above the sink. you look at your back and pull up your tank top slightly to see a massive bruise forming on your ribcage. you gasp at the size and color, immediately turning your anger towards harry.

he already looks prepared for your rage before you can even start to say anything. "you bloody prick, i know you did this on purpose. do you seriously want to win so badly you'd nearly break a rib to get there?" you snap at him, pulling your shirt back down and angrily marching towards him still sitting on the cot.

"i told you, [y/n], it was an accident." he says. you pause. he's never called you by your first name, at least not to your face. you were actually surprised he knew what it was in the first place.

harry looks up at you innocently, his eyes soft and brows raised. this just angers you again. you take another step towards him, your legs practically between his as harry tilts his head up to keep looking at you.

his glasses are crooked, his hair is a mess, and the cut on his cheek is still raw. and still, for some reason, your heart skips a beat looking down at him. you've never been so close to his face. you've never noticed his freckles before.

"you should just be glad i haven't targeted you the way you've targeted me all these years, potter. you're lucky i'm a nice person and don't believe in revenge, or else you'd be the one with nearly broken bones and a bruise the size of your lungs." you spit in his face, your tone razor sharp.

harry's expression hardly changes at your words. if anything his eyes only soften more watching you become filled with anger.

"and wipe that innocent look off your face before i do it for you. you should be thanking me for patching up this cut and not making it worse." you continue to vent at him as you step away to grab the bandage from the counter.

you're just starting to press down on the adhesive of the bandage around harry's injury when his eyes meet yours again. "thank you." he says, his voice broken and whiny. something about the way he says it makes your stomach drop to the floor. harry's usual annoying temperament was completely gone, no longer making mocking jokes or insults towards you, instead only speaking softly and looking into your eyes even softer.

confused and feeling a strange mix of emotions, you finish applying the bandage on harry's face without a word.

you start to put away the first aid kit, taking one last look at your bruise in the mirror with a sigh.

"i'm sorry." you hear harry say quietly. you look at him, his expression empathetic and almost concerned for you. it was then you started to believe the incident really was an accident. why would harry ever be apologetic for something he'd usually take loads of pride in, like knocking you off your broomstick?

you swallow nervously and look away from him, fixing your shirt. "you should be," you try to remain cold, but your voice is breaking. "i'm just glad you also hurt yourself in the process. you deserve to feel some of the pain too." you say in a deadpan voice.

you pick up your sweatshirt off the floor and start soaking the sleeve in some hot water to at least try and get some of the stains out.

"you're right." harry says behind you, his voice somber. you roll your eyes at his pathetic attempt to seem remorseful, turning to him curtly. "i know i'm right. and you know what else? you're just a loser who picks on people to feel better about yourself because you're insecure." you insult him.

you expect at least some kind of reaction from harry, but he just continues to watch the ground with a sullen expression. "i know." he says quietly.

you groan and turn to shut the sink faucet off, walking towards harry with the same accusatory pointing finger from before. "and you can stop with this whole act you're putting on 'cause it's pissing me right off," you nearly yell at harry, getting in his face. he just looks up at you with those big blue eyes again, biting his lip harshly.

you went to scold him again when you noticed a rather large bulge in his pants from where you were standing above him. you thought you were just assuming, but once you took a step back, you knew exactly what was happening with a smirk growing on your face.

harry nervously looked down at his crotch before quickly attempting to hide his obvious erection. he adjusted his pants and tried to use his shirt to cover it, but you were already laughing at him. "this cannot be real, this has got to be a setup. there's no way you just got turned on by me insulting you for 10 minutes straight." you could hardly get the words out from laughing so hard.

clearly embarrassed, harry looks between you and his erection with fear in his eyes. it only makes the situation that much better for you as you continue to humiliate your own bully.

"u-uh, this isn't, um–" "don't try and tell me this isn't what it looks like, potter. i know exactly what's going on here." you interrupt him and cross your arms. "you're such a loser that the only way you can get off is by having girls hate you. y'know, most guys get erections from making out with a girl, not getting threatened by them." you mock him, still a hint of anger laced in your voice.

harry's looking at you with that same innocent expression, but there's something else in his eyes that makes you pause. he's not just embarrassed, he's actually enjoying what you're saying to him. you can see his pupils dilate just looking at you, his bulge only becoming more obvious the longer you mock him.

you want to be disgusted at this situation. you want to hate the way harry's looking at you and leave the room with a huff to tell everyone about his little kink. you want to call him a disgusting creep and slap him across the face for ever thinking of you in such a way. but, you don't. because you can't.

you should be disgusted. you should be creeped out. but, for some reason, you're just not. you should be filled with rage ready to tell him off again, but, instead, you find yourself full of curiosity and…flattery?

of course it's never flattering for a guy to get an erection thinking about you being upset with him, if anything it's quite morbid. however, with you and harry, everything finally started to make sense. this is why he was always pushing your buttons just to get a rise out of you, or why he seemed to thrive off of your heated interactions. because he did. he found pleasure in your anger.

again, you should be fuming, but you're just not. your heart is racing and so is your mind. you're completely flustered at this point, possibly even more than harry is. you can feel the blush on your neck and cheeks and can't tell if the embarrassment you're feeling is secondhand or not.

still looking up at you, harry attempts to cover his erection up again with his pants. you just laugh at him again as there's no real point, you're more than well aware of his predicament at the moment. his blush is so severe he's nearly completely red, and you can see his hair start to stick to his forehead from the sweat. while you'd usually feel nothing but contempt looking down at harry's innocent expression, this time you feel a bit different. he almost looks younger now, his eyes soft and lips slightly hung open.

you notice the bandage around his scar starts to lift a bit around his eye, so you sigh and place a hand on his bandage to help reattach it. again, harry almost winces at your movement, and you can see his erection twitch under his pants. god, he really does get off on this.

while fixing it, harry's still watching you intently. "i'm sorry," his voice is soft but deep, making your blood run cold. you pause to look him in the eyes. "and what are you sorry for?" you lead him on.

harry's brows furrow together slightly. "for…well, y'know," he trails off, offering a fake, awkward chuckle. you smirk as you look back at his bandage. "no, i don't know. so why don't you tell me, potter?" you ask teasingly.

without fail, harry shifts in his seat uncomfortably and tries to subtly hide his erection again. your smirk only grows at his predictability.

"u-uh, well, i-i'm sorry for…for, um, getting turned on by you…" his stuttering is only making you enjoy the moment more. maybe part of you likes seeing him squirm like this under your hand. "by me…?" you lead him on again, taking a step away to examine his bandage. harry swallowed nervously watching you. "by you…being mean to me." he says meekly, his voice small and embarrassed.

you smirk at him again and decide to test the waters. "good boy."

harry's face absolutely drains of color. you can practically see his heart thumping out of his chest. and, if you weren't wrong, his hands actually started shaking in his lap.

you start laughing again at his reaction, hardly able to hold back from how funny this situation was to you. harry potter, the school's bad boy, the top slytherin student, the quidditch captain, your biggest rival, has a literal kink for being degraded. and he had the nerve to ever try and call you a loser.

"sorry, it's just so funny to me," you tell him between laughs, wiping tears from your eyes. "actually, no, i'm not sorry. i think you deserve to be laughed at for this. what guy actually gets horny from girls being mean to him?" you ask rhetorically, crossing your arms again and examining harry in front of you.

he's completely disheveled and getting sweatier by the minute. he breaks eye contact after your question, nervously scratching the back of his neck to waste time. "uh…" he starts off, clearly not knowing what to say to that. you just continue smirking, watching him struggle. "i mean, is it every time a girl is mean to you this happens? i'd imagine with your attitude that would be pretty often." you joke, partially curious but mostly just trying to make him squirm more.

harry shakes his head, both of his hands rubbing at his face and wiping the sweat from his hairline. "n-no, it's, uh…" he starts again, eventually trailing off with a sigh. you start tapping your foot impatiently. "i'm waiting." you say in a mocking tone.

harry tenses again, still not looking back up at you just yet. his body language is clearly uncomfortable and defensive. "it's not…all girls, okay? it's just…you." he finally spits out, clearly struggling to put his thoughts into words. "this only happens with you, i swear. a-and it's only started this year, and i don't know why." he rambles, speaking with his hands, his eyes still fixated on the floor.

for once, you're speechless. you weren't expecting that confession from him, and you certainly didn't know how to react to it in the moment. i mean, this potter kid has had it out for you since day one, he's practically made you two enemies on the field and off, and now he wants to tell you all this? it's a bit confusing, to say the least.

harry sighs, resting his face in his hands once again. "look, i'm sorry about all of this, okay? all of it, not just today, but everything. i shouldn't have been so rude to you all this time, especially not for the reasons i have…" you can practically hear harry wincing at his own words. he uncovers his face but continues to look down. "just…please, please, don't tell anyone. i know that's asking for a lot considering all i've done to you, but…please, [y/n]." he's nearly begging.

you just watch him carefully, trying to figure out how to respond to all of this. on one hand you're inclined to feel insulted, disrespected, and downright disgusted at this information, but in reality…you're just obscenely curious. i mean, how often does a guy get turned on by you being mean to him? and not just you, but specifically, only you. does that mean he actually likes you? or is it only a sexual thing? and how would that even work?

as your mind continues to raise more and more questions, you feel yourself speaking before you even decide what to say.

"fine, i won't tell anyone. if," you take a slow step towards harry. he looks up at you with flushed cheeks and wide eyes. your heart leaps at the sight of him so vulnerable beneath you. it's as if you can see him thinking anything, anything for you.

you're not sure what's possessing you in this moment, but you can't stop yourself from pushing the limits further between you and harry. again, your mouth starts speaking for you.

"if…you let me help." you say with a smirk, closing the gap between you and harry and standing between his legs once again. he's looking up at you in complete shock, his eyes examining every inch of you in front of him. he's trying to speak but his mouth just keeps opening and closing, gasping for air and nervously chuckling.

arms still crossed, you wait for harry to say something and enjoy seeing him be the speechless one this time.

he eventually looks back up at you, biting his lip again and leaning back slightly. "help…me?" he asks, confused. you laugh at him, shaking your head. "yes, potter. help you. can't have you leaving here with that," you motion down to his pants with your head. "can we?" you ask seductively.

again, you're not sure what's making you act like this right now, but you honestly didn't mind it. you already got a kick out of insulting harry anyway, why not watch him struggle a bit harder under your thumb in this tiny exam room?

harry's completely frozen. you smile at him this time, the most genuine one you could muster in the moment. "if you want to, of course," you say quietly, softening your gaze at him and fixing his messy hair. harry makes a soft sound and leans into your touch, his eyes closing. you giggle to yourself, he just looks so innocent resting in your hand.

the moment didn't last long as you tighten your grip on the hair on the back of harry's head, pulling it so he's looking right at you. his eyes open and a soft whine escapes his lips. "i'll take that as a yes?" you ask smugly, leaning down until your faces were nearly touching. harry does his best to nod his head, swallowing nervously and glancing at your lips.

you smile at him again. something just felt so right when you were in control, seeing harry's front disappear as he became a mess in your hands. you felt powerful, confident, and, to your dismay, insanely turned on from the entire situation. your feelings of hate and desire for harry drove you mad, yet he seemed more than willing to be the recipient of both.

so, you lean forward, and you kiss him.

it's soft at first, slow, shy, you feel like harry's barely breathing. eventually he catches up, nearly moaning into your mouth as you feel your stomach fluttering. you put your other hand on his cheek and sit on harry's lap, your knees resting on the cot around harry's hips. you feel his hands tread carefully up your thighs and under your shorts, his fingers digging into your skin roughly.

this time you can't hold back your moans, causing harry to melt even more into you. his lips were soft, careful, but so eager. it's like he was starving and yet still took his time with you.

you pull away slightly, your breath heavy and forehead resting on harry's. "lay down," you command him, climbing off his lap. harry quickly lies back on the cot, kicking off his shoes in the process. you do the same before crawling back on top of him, carefully resting your ass directly on his erection.

harry openly groans, his hands reaching for your hips and squeezing the skin roughly. you bite your lip to hold back another moan. you slightly adjust your position and cause harry's head to roll back against the cot. "[y/n]..." is all he manages to say in his broken voice.

he's already such a mess and all you've done is sit in his lap. who would've known all this time his teasing you was just a cover up for this?

"this'll be easy. you're already practically falling apart on me, potter." you tease him, your cold fingers finding their way under his jersey. harry's body shivers, his hands moving from your hips to your waist. his fingers crawl under your shirt as well and cause your skin to break out in goosebumps.

he slightly smirks at this reaction, but you don't let him have his moment for long. "and don't get cocky," you warn him before you start grinding on his erection. his head rolls back in pleasure again, his mouth hanging open and fingers digging into your skin. you smirk to yourself. "don't forget you're the loser who likes to be insulted here." you remind him harshly, your hands running along his chest under his jersey.

harry's noises are completely pathetic, his hips bucking into yours for even the slightest bit more friction. you stop grinding into him and he lets out a shaky breath, looking at you with needy eyes. he looks so worked up already and you've barely done a thing.

"shirt off," you tell him, pulling at the material. harry, again, doesn't hesitate to follow instructions. he removes his hands from your waist and quickly takes off his jersey, throwing it to the floor.

your breath hitches in your throat looking at harry's soft, sweaty skin in the dim fluorescent lighting of the exam room. you never realized just how toned his shoulders and chest were, or how many scars and bruises he seemed to have, both new and fading.

you look back up at harry, his eyes nervously watching your every move. you lean in to kiss him again, messier, needier. his hands return to your hips and practically force you to start grinding on him again. you would've intervened if you weren't just as desperate to continue rolling your hips into harry's hard erection.

a soft moan comes from your lips as you grind into him harder, your hands resting on his chest for support. harry groans, his brows furrowing. "shit," he mutters, only encouraging you to go faster.

you could feel how wet you were through your panties. your stomach was tightening already, making you feel a bit embarrassed of your own desperation. seeing harry be so willing to please you only had you wanting him more.

just as you start to feel yourself blush at your lack of self control, you notice harry's panicked expression, his grip on your skin guaranteed to leave bruises. "what's wrong?" you ask, somewhat sarcastically and also concerned.

he struggles to get a sound out. "hmph, gonna, fuck, please, don't," he's stumbling through his words, barely able to keep his eyes focused on you. his hands try to stop your hips, but his grip his weak.

"stop what?" you ask curiously, slowing your hips slightly but rolling into him harder. harry moans, his hand covering his mouth hearing how loud it echoed through the tiny room. you just laugh at him and pull his hand away, guiding it to your chest. harry's eyes widen, trying to pull his hand away.

"stop, gonna…cum, if you don't," harry whimpers, squirming under your weight as his legs try to escape. you take your opportunity and pick up your pace, giving harry an evil smile.

"aw, already?" you ask, forcing his hand back to your chest. you guide his fingers along the curves of your breasts through your thin tank top, causing him to breathe even heavier. "you haven't even gotten to see these, and you're already about to cum? i was right, you're such a fucking loser, potter." you tell him, guiding his hand back under your shirt.

you can feel him struggling under you even more, his torso only getting sweatier. you just grab for his other hand and guide it under your shirt as well. he watches as intently as he can, his eyes still rolling back in pleasure at the pressure in his lap.

you help him lift his hands higher and higher until he's cupping your tits under your shirt, your breathing becoming hitched at the feeling of his rough fingers running across your sensitive nipples.

"fuck," you say under your breath, loud enough for harry to moan and grope you rougher, lifting your shirt above your tits. you gasp at the feeling and look back down at him, a sweaty mess with eyes barely open.

"please, please," harry starts begging, his hips still trying to squirm away from you. you place your hands on his sides and push him down, continuing to chase your high. "just stay still, harry," you nearly whimper. you realize you've never called him by his first name either.

that's when he comes completely unraveled beneath you. he's practically crying out in pleasure and desperation, his hands roughly squeezing the soft skin of your tits as his head is thrown back against the cot. just watching him fall apart like this has you shaking on top of him, feeling the warm wetness of your panties leaving a mark on harry's jeans.

it takes a few moments for both of you to come back to earth. harry's hands eventually loosen their grip on you before quickly pulling away, his eyes wide and panicked again. "sorry," he says quickly, his cheeks completely flushed.

you just shake your head and laugh, climbing off of harry's lap and adjusting your shirt. harry sits up and runs his hands through his hair, trying to catch his breath still.

the room is a bit awkward, but you eventually start to chuckle and push harry's shoulder lightly. "so…" you lead him on. harry chuckles as well, hanging his head low. "so…" he repeats, his voice still soft.

"so…is it wrong of me to assume you might actually like me?" you ask, picking up harry's jersey and handing it to him. he offers you a shy smile and puts it back on, shaking his head. "y'know, i'm not sure there's a way i could've made it more obvious." he admits half heartedly.

you laugh again, feeling a blush crawl up your cheeks. you turn away from him and grab your sweatshirt from the sink, the sleeve still completely stained.

"i really am sorry about that, i have a few you could borrow if you'd like." he says with a smirk, pointing towards your sweatshirt. you roll your eyes. "well, good to know your cockiness hasn't gone anywhere." you respond, suppressing a smile.

he chuckles. "never will." he says confidently. you give him a look and take a step towards him, causing him to swallow nervously.

you laugh at him again. "yeah, okay, pretty boy." you tease him, stepping away and towards the door. he follows behind you, still blushing like crazy.

leaving the exam room you notice all the nurses are still running around like lunatics, having no idea what's just happened only a few feet away from them. you and harry share a knowing look before running off together, laughing as you reach the halls.

"y'know," harry says between laughs, looking over at you with nothing but love in his eyes as you continue walking the empty halls. "don't think i'll go easy on you tomorrow just because of…that." he says, motioning behind him with a shy smile. you smile back at him and offer your hand. harry looks a bit hesitant, but shakes it anyway. "wouldn't want it any other way, potter."

tag list:

@gorlsinmultifandoms @treacletartlett @lucasinclairsgf @stvrlavs @dinomdubs

if you'd like to be part of my tag list, just leave a comment or message me! if you enjoyed this please let me know, your comments make my day <3

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

What do you need to know about lgbt+ history as a lgbt+ person? 

Well, if you ask like that: nothing, actually. You do not disqualify from being lgbt+ if you know nothing about history whatsoever. There��s no exam to pass. 

It also doesn’t make you a bad person or a disgrace to the community or an embarrassment if you haven’t heard about a specific chapter of lgbt+ history yet - saying so would be really unfair! Maybe you live in a situation in which you don’t feel safe to do a lot of research on lgbt+ related stuff. Maybe you are a young person growing up in hard times and you’re busy just surviving. Maybe your brain works in a way that makes it harder for you to learn or retain new information than for others. Or hey, maybe you already know lots - but your learning simply focused on a different chapter than the one that hypothetical exam would be on!

Of course there are many benefits to learning about lgbt+ history. You get the general benefits of learning new things (such as training your critical thinking skills, which will help you in your everyday life, and even supporting your brain health!) but there’s also specific benefits to learning about this specific subject.

History isn’t all “learning boring stuff about dead people” - learning about past events and their consequences also helps you understand present events and gauge their potential consequences for your future. This will for example empower you in your voting decisions (or help you understand how politics influence everyday life at all, if that’s your starting point!). 

Knowledge about lgbt+ history also helps you to notice misinformation more easily and enables you to counteract homophobic myths with facts. 

It may even help you on a more personal level: reading up on all the people who came before you can foster a sense of identity and belonging. It might make you feel more confident to know that people like you have been around forever and have achieved so many things! 

So, rather than “what do I need to know”, I think the much better question is “where do I want to start?”. 

Nobody knows everything about lgbt+ history (or about any given topic, really!) and unrealistic expectations will only set you up for disappointment. It’s best to let your curiosity lead you! You’re much more likely to actually read up on something you are genuinely excited to learn about than something you’ve only been told to read. 

With that in mind: it can feel overwhelming to pick a topic to start with! Especially if you’re pretty new to lgbt+ history, you may not even know where to start. So I do want to make some suggestions here. Not as a “you need to research all these today or else I’m revoking your license to gay”, just to spark your curiosity! I will not add explanations right here in the post, I just want to give you some terms you can easily put in the search bar. (Important: these are in random order, not ranked by importance or anything like that!) 

US-Centric lgbt+ History

1. Stonewall Riots

2. Harvey Milk

3. Marsha P. Johnson

4. Sylvia Rivera

5. The Lavender Scare

6. Obergefell v. Hodges

7. Don't Ask, Don't Tell

8. The Mattachine Society

9. The Daughters of Bilitis

11. The AIDS crisis

12. Bayard Rustin

13. Lawrence v. Texas

14. The Gay Liberation Front

15. The Human Rights Campaign

European lgbt+ History

1. Section 28 (UK)

2. Oscar Wilde

3. Alan Turing

4. Magnus Hirschfeld

5. Paragraph 175 (Germany)

6. The Homomonument (Netherlands)

7. EuroPride

8. James Barry

9. The decriminalization of homosexuality in the UK (1967)

10. ILGA-Europe

11. Homosexual Law Reform Act 1986 (New Zealand, part of the Commonwealth)

12. The Equality Act 2010 (UK)

13. Transgender Europe (TGEU)

14. The first same-sex marriage in the Netherlands (2001)

15. Dora Richter

Have fun learning! 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

P.S: You may wonder “But what about places other than the USA or Europe?” (or those of you who already know a lot about lgbt+ history, “but what about (topic I haven’t mentioned here)”) - and that’s actually a really great point! It highlights what we talked about above: nobody knows everything + lgbt+ history is way too rich of a topic to put it all into one short list! This isn’t meant to be a comprehensive list of everything important, just some potential starting points that hopefully lead you to topics beyond ones mentioned on this list.

[goddessinnerglow]

Become Your Best Version Before 2025 - Day 14

Career and Purpose

After diving into financial planning yesterday, let's talk about something that's deeply connected to both our financial and emotional wellbeing, our career and sense of purpose. And no, I'm not going to tell you to "follow your passion and the money will follow" because real life is usually more complicated than that!

You know that feeling when someone asks "What do you want to do with your life?" and your brain just goes blank? Yeah, me too. The truth is, finding your purpose isn't like ordering from a menu, it's more like cooking a meal from scratch, with lots of experimenting and adjusting along the way.

So how do we start untangling this career and purpose puzzle? Instead of throwing inspirational quotes at you, I'm going to share some practical steps that'll help you gain clarity. Take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and adapt everything to your unique situation.

Understanding Your "Why"

Take a moment to think about what lights you up. Not what looks good on LinkedIn or what your parents want – but what makes YOU come alive. Maybe it's:

Solving complex problems

Helping others learn and grow

Creating beautiful things

Building connections between people

Making systems more efficient

Notice I didn't say "become a teacher" or "be an artist." We're starting with the essence, not the job title.

The Values Compass Exercise

Grab a piece of paper and write down:

Three times you felt truly fulfilled at work or in a project

What specifically made those moments special

The common threads between these experiences

Bridging the Gap

Maybe you're in a job that doesn't perfectly align with your purpose right now. That's okay! Here's how to work with that:

Find small ways to incorporate your values into your current role

Start a side project that feeds your soul

Learn new skills that move you closer to your goals

Network with people in fields that interest you (coffee conversations can be virtual!)

The Purpose Puzzle Pieces

Your career doesn't have to fulfill ALL your purpose needs. Sometimes having a stable job that you're good at can give you the foundation to pursue meaningful activities outside of work. Think about:

Volunteer opportunities

Mentoring others

Community involvement

Creative hobbies

Personal projects

Taking Action (Without Quitting Your Job Tomorrow)

The Skills Audit: Make two lists

What you're good at

What you want to be good at Then pick ONE skill to develop this month

The Micro-Experiments Approach: Instead of making huge leaps, try small tests:

Shadow someone in a role you're curious about

Take an online course in a new field

Volunteer for projects that stretch you

Start a tiny side project

The Network Garden: Plant seeds for future opportunities:

Reach out to one person doing work you admire

Join online communities in your areas of interest

Share your learning journey on LinkedIn or other platforms

Offer to help others whenever you can

Remember, purpose is a Journey, Not a Destination. Your sense of purpose might evolve over time, and that's beautiful! The key is to stay curious and keep taking small steps forward.

The "Not To-Do" List

Sometimes knowing what you DON'T want is just as valuable as knowing what you do want. Give yourself permission to:

Say no to opportunities that don't align with your values

Let go of career paths that others chose for you

Change your mind as you learn and grow

Take time to figure things out

Your mission for today

Write down three activities that make you lose track of time

Think of one small way to bring more of these elements into your current work

Reach out to someone whose career path interests you

See you tomorrow for Day 15! Don't forget, your career is a huge part of your life, but it doesn't define your whole worth. You're already valuable, purpose or no purpose. We're just working on expressing that value in a way that feels meaningful to you.

♡ ☆:.｡ Keep glowing, babes! ♡ ☆:.｡ With love, Goddess Inner Glow.

[yuurei20]

Summarized transcript of the Twisted Radio episode with Heartslabyul (minus Trey) voice actors!! 🥳 (all is just paraphrased, not direct quotes, and Book 7 spoilers removed!)

Highlights ・A lot of industry talk!

Last week’s opening talk that was set was “How do you want to spend New Years?”

🌹 I will have finished work by the 27th so I will be relaxing and listening to this show at home. 

♠️ Are you sure? You’re really going to listen at home?

❤️ Listen with your whole family.

🌹Yes, I will have my kids listen to it, too.

♠️ I’m going to contact you on the 27th. “🌹-san, are you listening?”

🌹 Reads a fan letter: they are being asked about things the cast learned when they first became voice actors.

♠️ Says he never went to a technical school or training school or anything so he just learned on the job. He said he learned that new hires are expected to sit near the door to open and close it for others. He didn’t know this at first and would sit in the middle or the back and other new people would tell him that he needed to be near the door. 

♦️ says he also never had any formal schooling/training and he learned by watching everyone around him, which is how he learned the shorthand that is used in the industry, and everyone talks about how shorthand can vary by person.

❤️ starts talking about an unnamed project that he did with 🌹 (they can’t say what it is). ❤️ says his character used a sword and he became interested in it and went to a trial lesson. What he learned is that that skill is not only about strength. And also the swords are very heavy.

🌹says when he debuted he was given a rehearsal video to watch on VHS instead of DVD, but he didn’t have a VCR so he had to go buy one from a recycle shop specifically to watch the total of two VHSs he would be given before his agency shifted to DVDs.

Next section:

About Riddle

🌹 He can’t speak too kindly or it departs from Riddle’s character. He’s been doing this for 5 years now and he likes everyone, but that much time hasn’t passed in the game yet. So he will be directed to be less kind. He feels that his voice has changed, too, since it has been so long, getting deeper, so the director will ask him to sound younger.

There are also what he calls the “system voices” which are maybe voice lines? He says that since they have to be accessible to everyone no matter what point it is that they start playing the game, he has to record them as how Riddle was at the start of the main story, and how strict he was. He says he has been watching Alice in Wonderland a lot in order to properly portray the angry queen. 

About Ace

❤️ He says that like 🌹 new challenges have been appearing over the past five years. There is also the change in Ace from thinking that he was better than Deuce but then Deuce got his UM first. ❤️ Ace doesn’t know his UM, and ❤️ himself is looking forward to it. He says he really doesn’t have any idea what it is going to be, he hasn’t been told.

♠️ says that fans will often comment on how well ❤️ is able to mimic other voice actors. He asks how ❤️ himself is at imitating people and ❤️ says he’s bad at it.

🌹 says that maybe ❤️ being so good at it is why Ace has been imitating people so much in the game. ♠️ says that if ❤️ was bad at it then they might have started asking him to do it less.

About Deuce

♠️ references how all of Heartslabyul recorded together for Book 1 which never happens for mobile games, and he had never recorded with that many voice actors in the same place for a game before. It was the very start of his career so he was grateful, and now they all record alone.

They talk about Deuce’s struggles in Book 5. ❤️ says he is empathizes a lot with Deuce, so he adapted his line readings in order to be really annoying. 

Now they are talking about Book 7 things, redacted for spoilers 💦

About Cater

♦️ says that Cater hasn’t really changed that much from Book 1, unlike other characters. He is always showing the same mood, with only occasional whispers of his true feelings. He is still treating everyone the same way he always has, and ♦️ 's portrayal hasn’t really changed either.

♦️ says that when he is going through a script he will ask the staff, “…but what is really going on?” beyond the words that he has been given to read. 

More Book 7 things, redacted for spoilers.

About Trey

♣️ isn’t here in person because of scheduling conflicts but he provided a comment to read on air! His comment is on the impression he gets from Trey: a dependable and kind senpai, if you have been brushing your teeth properly. He can seem mature beyond his years because of his supportive role in the dorm, and you can sense the mental strain he is under sometimes. At first glance he can appear untrustworthy but he doesn’t seem to have hidden intentions behind his words, so do not worry.

❤️ talks about Trey in Book 1 and his childhood relationship with Riddle and 🌹 says that the scenes with Trey and Riddle towards the end might have turned out differently if they hadn’t been able to record together.

Comment from ♣️ on voicing Trey: he says he tries to portray Trey’s calmness but it is difficult to do so while simultaneously not making him sound older than 18. Part of Trey’s charm is how quick-witted he is, so he tries to suggest a hidden complexity through his line readings. He reiterates that there aren’t any actual bad intentions though.

♠️ comments on how, since the characters are villains, they all have villainous-looking expressions that they make sometimes, and Trey’s in particular looks very villainous. 

❤️ says it’s funny how ♣️ is actually the youngest voice cast member in Heartslabyul, but the character he is voicing is a calm and collected senpai.

❤️ shares another comment from ♣️ asking how much Trey expects people to brush their teeth before he will be satisfied.

❤️ wonders if Trey and Cater will be graduating and ♠️ says “no I will not let them”

About Main Story

Book 7 talk~

About In-Game Schedule

Lilia birthday, Sam’s New Year Sale, Malleus birthday, Main Story Content~

Twst Fes DVD on sale~

Anime is coming~

End!

[i-am-a-fan]

I saw a post talking about how there’s a deep mischaracterization of Mk in the fandom specifically about his monkey form and I’m here to dissect it. (WIth doodles!)

Tldr: Will Mk end up hurting his family in season 5 due to his new Monkey form? Most likely no, but it is possible that he indirectly hurts them by not understanding the limits of his power.

First things first let’s collect a list of attributes that we know Mk has from past seasons. This will serve as a spine or checklist to see if certain actions are possible. A thing to keep in mind though is the ranking of each attribute as the writers of LMK wrote there are characters as complex and sometimes abandon certain character values if their center value is threatened. 

Mk’s character value list (in my opinion) is as follows: 

-Family 

-Strength 

-Freedom 

-Dependability 

with family and strength being so close to each other, so sometimes strength ends up as Mk’s main concern. Of course, all of these end up mixing at times and in the first seasons we see the mixing of these values gets him in trouble 

Desiring the freedom of choice over listening to Wukong (Pig Pong Panic). Wanting to be dependable but overestimating his strength (Duplication). Wanting to be strong but forgets his family in the process (shadow play). Eventually, he gets his priorities in check and has ended up sticking to this list for most of seasons 3 and 4. 

Now his flaws (in no particular order): 

Impulsivity 

Forgetfulness 

Stubbornness 

Blind devotion 

He’s overcome a lot of these when he was forced to learn them in season 3. His stubbornness to not tell anyone what was happening with the LBD got people hurt. His impulsivity with his actions ended up crashing the ship, and almost sold his family to a goldfish demon.

(Text: Mk's Fault, Good Intentions, Trying mentor)

So he’s had to come up with methods of working around that. Mk’s blind devotion to Wukong almost got Mei killed, and we see how he changes because of it. At the end of season 3, Mk doesn’t explicitly say that he sees Wukong in a new light but he heavily implies it with the metaphor of a bowl of noodles. 

So… Will Mk go crazy and end up hurting his friends? 

I highly doubt it. While I toyed with the idea, Mk is a lot smarter than the fandom usually gives him credit for. He knows Wukong is flawed, and he still trusts in him because he knows Wukong is trying. Mk has faith in Wukong’s strength and the fact that Wukong also heavily values family, even if his isolation makes it a lot harder for him to do so. Just rewatch the ending of season 3 where Wukong apologizes to Mk and watch as Mk comes to the realization that Wukong is trying so hard to make up for his past. (They also drive this point home in season 4 with how disappointed Wukong sounds at himself for not finding Mk in the scroll in the season finale.) 

(Text: He's flawed and trying, Has to accept harsh reality, Dissociating Coping mechanism)

So what about Mk’s impulsivity? I doubt that’d be something that directly harms his friends. He’s worked on his impulsivity by working with others (Redson in season 3 and Mei’s planning in season 4) to help fill in the gaps in his plans. In order for his impulsivity to harm others, you’d have to break that family value first or raise that value of strength and freedom. Most likely this flaw can manifest in Mk overdoing his Monkey form ™  and sending a shockwave that accidentally hurts the people around him.  Probably manifesting either in training or while having fun with Mei (think about how Mk was in the Bad Weather episode). 

Okay, what if Mk is tricked into it like he was in Season 4 (back to the flaw of blind devotion)? Mk has spent every season backstabbed by someone he trusted. We see him snap at Azure after he finds out that he was going to keep Wukong in the scroll. He snaps at Macaque in season 4. It’s safe to say that he’s learned, at least partially, to not trust others so blindly. Mk is also supposed to have gotten the “skill of self-reflection” in “Revenge of the Spider Queen” but his reflecting has mostly just impacted the other flaws. 

(Text: Side note, Monkey Mk doesn't have a nose)

But there is one possibility I toy with, bottled up emotions. Mk has extremely big emotions but hates showing any emotion that can be seen as negative. He loves being happy and he’s not afraid to show it, but as soon as those emotions turn to doubt, anger, or sadness he bottles them up fast. He knows he can rely on his family, but he’s stubborn and thinks that his emotions aren’t worth that hassle. Take the ending of season 3 where Mk states that “he tries not to think too hard” about his own place in the universe, which could be due to a fear of losing the value of freedom if he has a specific role to play in the universe.

(Text: Guys He's so avoidant, forced to think about his identity, 18-early 20's and Identity crisis)

It’s worsened by the fact that every. other. character. avoids. their. emotions. No other characters in this series are open about their emotions except Tang and Sandy. And from season 3 (and a bit of season 4) we know that Mk doesn’t view Tang in an extremely positive light.

Not exactly negative, but his admiration lies more on the rest of the team. Macaque points this out in season 2 stating in “Shadow Play” that Mk should talk out his insecurities, but no one else does that. 

That being said Mk isn’t entirely forgetful either. Macaque was a season 1 villain with his betrayal going through season 3. Mk’s high value of family, and flaw of blind devotion, make him want to give him a chance as Macaque’s past is connected with Wukong’s. HOWEVER, Mk is also stubborn and hasn’t forgiven Macaque’s actions. That’s why he snaps, plus the fact that Macaque is terrible at direct communication. Like I said before, Mk won’t directly hurt anyone he cares about, but if his monkey form is highly connected with his emotions (as most magic tends to be) having those bottled-up insecurities might accidentally cause Mk to unleash more power than he means to.

(Text: Normal, Fed up Meter, rage (on jar))

I have no idea where season 5 is going to go, but I’m so excited about the possibilities. 

(Text: Terrified of his actions hurting his family. UNSTABLE!!!)

[celestetumbledryer]

batfamily(´∀｀=)

TL;DR i have encountered a predominantly white area of this fandom. If possible, please humanise poc characters like you do or would love to the rest of the cast. please scroll to the bottom of this wall of text to see the inspiration for this post as well as some amazing batfamily blogs!!!!

hello!! i don’t usually make posts by myself, but i am not longer secretly passionate about this topic. this post is more about POC issues than batman. upon saying that, i will only really cover batfamily characters that the stereotypical fandom engages with.

it is ironic that i would usually just skim through a post this length so think of this as a brain…dump..? ehe. also, i have an small device so this post may seem longer to me than it is to you.

i know that i am fairly new to this part of the DC fandom, but i assure you, much unlike many other tumblr blogs, i actually do read comics!

i have been getting into batman family related comics and decided to see some fan content because i loved seeing people with shared interests!!!!

unfortunately, like any place on the internet, i have encountered prejudice and shallowness(i may contribute a little to the latter hehe….)

1.

The Kane(Batwoman) Family are non/practicing Jewish. They are also ethnically Jewish, though i am apologetic to say that i am not sure of the exact ethnicity.

2.

i am aware of Richard Grayson/Robin/Nightwing’s Romani heritage(I couldn’t find a reliable source regarding a specific group, sorry!😖 most likely Kalderash!). This character (sadly, among many others) has been heavily objectified in both the fandom and the canon. Romani characters still have often been reduced to racist jokes and stereotypes in fiction. One thing I'd like to share is the cooking thing from my last post. I feel like cooking is a great skill to have when representing culture. It's okay to be clumsy or not the best at cooking. Not always achieving a good result when cooking is fine. However it is a life skill. Only ever ordering takeout is not the most healthy for anyone especially someone who needs alot of energy and nutrients. Take care of yourselves !

3.

Cassandra Cain/Batgirl/Orphan is usually characterised as reserved and non-verbal in the fandom space. I don’t hate this, but unfortunately leans towards a generally negative archetype in Asian women characters.

She is often depicted using very repetitive and simple words. Though her struggles with language have been portrayed through her comics, she is able to form grammatically correct sentences. Please do not infantilise this character. this is not just a problem with fiction; it happens too much with Asian people in reality. i have no ill intention against agere.

She does take things to the extreme if she so desires. You just couldn’t handle a strong traumatised woc/hj.

people really don’t like it when i say that i like this character. i have received threats. i wonder why..

Not really related, but I’d like to say that ASL is not objectively easier to learn than spoken languages regarding a popular headcanon.

4.

i've seen a lot of headcanons of a Latino Jason Todd/Red Hood(i don’t really have anything against this), so i looked more into it. I've seen people say they enjoy this headcanon simply "because he is poor" which i'm sure is not in all what it means to be Latino. i cannot speak for this group; i hope my message is received well.

5.

i’ve seen popular headcanons of a Black Steph Brown/Spoiler. i don’t really have anything to say about this. what are your thoughts?

6.

Black hair, bowl cut, intelligence and under 6ft are reasons I’ve seen people headcanon Tim Drake/(Red) Robin(which writers intended to be Jewish) as NEAsian. i think you can infer why. However, it is not a problem whether you fit into a specific group in within your identity or not.

7.

i’ve been told by multiple people that Duke Thomas/Signal is nothing more than a “token Black” character which is in itself a trope stemming from racism. Black characters are often reduced to a comic relief given little or no depth. i understand that he is a character only introduced in the last decade so there are not as many iterations compared to other bat family members, but it doesn’t make him any less interesting to be explored!

8.

I generally dislike the “demon spawn” super serious characterisation of a child Damian al Ghul Wayne/Robin. Yes, he is traumatised, but he is still a child. i know that in some iterations he is quite uptight or arrogant. this does not stop him from being a youngest child. i don’t think he would have the emotional spectrum of a rock. i believe that he is a quarter Arab(and/or Iranian??) and Han Chinese!

*this post has many flaws, please leave a message in replies or my dm if you are upset or would like to add and edit to this post!!!!

this post was inspired by @/zoomiie.net on tiktok. they explained it much better than i could ever.

“you could tell if a specific fandom in particular is explicitly majority white by the way they treat their POC character[s]”

link to video will be in notes

“let people have fun”

i do not intend to stop you.

i am speaking out about the casual racism present in fandom spaces.

here are some dc comics blogs that do not stop me from having fun.

@numberonedukethomasapologist Len creates a blog focused on the bat family character Duke Thomas(The Signal) that humanises the character in his unapologetically Black culture. it is actually the first batfamily blog i encountered !! please go support him PLEAS PLea p

@brucestalia is a Talia al Ghul centric blog that is very active(multiple posts a day), usually posting about BruTalia. the ship is usually presented with visual media, song lyrics and fan fiction.

@nightwingsgypsyrep the usertag speaks for itself! she doesn't have many posts, but there are some fun Romani Grayson(x Kory) moments !!

Holy racism, Batman!

Celeste Tumble Dryer ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hi sex witch! first of all, just want to say how cool this account is and how useful it's been for me :D as someone both very inexperienced and very autistic, the blunt way you give info is genuinely invaluable!

that being said, though, i have a question that might be slightly outside your usual.

i've recently gotten into my first "serious" relationship, and have found that i am TERRIBLE at asking for what i want. this has always been true (though i'm better lately), but i find it way more frustrating now that it's my girlfriend that i'm struggling to talk to. she doesn't seem to mind, but it can take me up to an hour of actively trying to get the thought out of my mouth (usually with some guessing on her part to fill in the details).

presumably, this will get easier with time. it's a very new relationship, and i went into it having never even kissed someone before.

but, since you talk about this sort of stuff on here a lot and encourage communication, i was wondering if you had any suggestions to make it easier for myself or her?

(even a reassurance that it will get easier would also be appreciated! it's stressing me out quite a lot)

hi anon,

I think you have the right idea with your guess that this is something that will get easier with time. learning new skills takes practice, especially if it's a skill - like communicating your wants and feeling capable of specifically asking for them, in your case - that isn't very developed. give yourself grace while you learn! it's frustrating to realize that the level of skill you desire isn't the same as the level you actually have, but it's can also be incredibly rewarding to watch that skill develop in real time with the help of a partner.

however, while you and your partner are figuring it out it might be helpful to have some loopholes to help ease the process and bypass the hour of decision making struggle that sounds like it could easily get frustrating.

might I recommend developing menus of sorts for such occasions? come up with a list of 5-10 options that you're generally okay with - for instance, if you struggle to figure out what you want to do for dinner, you'd come up with a list of meals you generally like or places you usually enjoy ordering takeout from. then, when you're struggling to make a decision, you might be able to say something like "okay, Option A isn't exactly right, but it sounds closer to the right thing than Option B and C. maybe Option A with some small alterations?" that way you have a starting point to make decisions from instead of having to figure out everything on the spot, and there's less guesswork for your partner.

you can apply that to almost anything - TV shows to watch together, activities to do on the weekend, ways to have sex, etc. lots of fun to compile together, and a useful tool to have in the moment.

[dontbelasagnax]

Ok fine! You’ve convinced me! I’ll learn how to draw specifically so I can draw codywan kissing, you’ve spread your gospel successfully

…

How do you draw tho fr cuz I can doodle like, funky lookin birds but people is fully out of my depth send help

AAAA HELL YEAHHHH!!!!! LET'S GOOOO!!!!!

You've opened a can of worms asking me for art advice so *cracks knuckles* buckle up.

I sort of (only a little bit) use the Loomis method for easy head drawing. Here is a playlist of YouTube videos by Proko. Highly, highly recommend that channel for your art tutorial needs!

I start with a circle. For side profiles, I draw a line down the side of the circle to determine where the features will sit upon. I draw a triangular shape to mark where the orbital socket is. Around the middle point of the circle is where the jawline ends and the ear begins so draw a line there. There are proportion rules which are good guidelines when starting out in art but since I've been doing this my entire life, I have a feel for things and just wing it. That's to say, I put in a line implying the jaw based on vibes.

Next, I draw the eyebrows and brow ridge. Then the nose. I find I majorly base my proportions on this area so if anything is off, it throws the rest of the face off.

Then I draw the lips and chin... or in Obi-Wan's case, his beard. I will mark in his sideburns and hairline as well. Now, about ears: generally the top of the ear begins right around the top of the eyebrow and stops at the base of the nose. At this point I like to draw his eye, define the cheekbone, and refine the eyebrow. I'll finish scribbling in hair and that's it!

(Cody is much the same but I forgot to take useful progress pics 😂)

Extended Art Advice 👇

Tip #1: Draw lightly. Do not ever grip your pencil tight. This only leads to pain. You will notice I didn't erase at all. This is partly because I know what marks to make because I've done it a million times before and also because my lines are soft enough I can make lots of them and choose to deepen the ones that work.

Tip #2: Practice, practice, practice. Artistic skill is just loads and loads of accumulated knowledge and muscle memory from practice. This sounds boring but, in reality, you should make it fun.

Tip #3: Draw from observation/USE REFERENCE! The only reason I can get away without using reference when I'm feeling lazy is because I've drawn the same things over and over enough times it stuck. Aka I did lots of practice.

Now, to combine all these tips together, let's talk about how to use reference and how to make practice fun.

Reference is a huge aid when drawing at any point in your art journey. But I've found that in order to learn from what you're looking at, you need to think critically.

You obviously have something you want to draw. Reference helps you with that. You'll start out trying to draw what you see. Eventually you will run into an obstacle where you've messed up and things aren't looking good. This is to be expected. Every time this happens, think about what isn't working and find solutions with your reference. Analyze your subject to find your answers. Draw it again. Do not be afraid of failure. Each time you fail, you must look for a solution and this will lead you closer to your goal. This is how you grow as an artist.

I know, it sounds dreadfully boring and like a shit ton of work. It is a lot of work but you can make it fun! You love Obi-Wan and Cody so make Pinterest boards of Ewan McGregor and Temuera Morrison. Whatever you want to practice (may that be eyes, mouths, hands, hair, the face as a whole, etc) draw them. Ever hear tracing is bad? Fuck that. It's a perfectly valid tool to help you learn. If you're drawing digitally, pull up your reference in the art program of your choice, lower the opacity a little, make a new layer and trace what you see. I honestly find tracing to be very hard so when I've done this, I prefer to try to find shapes that will aid me when I'm actually drawing. If you're drawing traditionally, you can print out the photo and trace over it with a tracing paper or use a lightbox. You can also up the brightness on your computer screen and tape a piece of paper and trace that way.

Photos aren't the only references you can use! You can always look to your favorite artists' work and try to figure out how they do it. Often artists will break things down into more easily digestible shapes that will help you better understand how things work. Remember, if you ever copy or trace someone's art, it is for learning purposes only and you shouldn't post it. Feel free to take elements of people's art that you like and put your own spin on it though. For instance: I really love how this one artist draws men's tits so I studied a bunch of their art and now I'm much better at drawing them.

Oh and did you think you only get practice in while studying? Wrong! There's no reason you should shy away from trying to make the art you really want just because your skills aren't the most refined. Spoiler alert: you will grow the most when you push yourself out of your comfort zone. Draw codywan kissing. Draw it really enthusiastically and through profuse swearing and gritted teeth... but never a clenched hand. Don't hold back from the fun stuff just because it's hard. Aim high, land low, and shoot even higher next time.

In the beginning it will be especially frustrating. You'll feel like everything you make is a failure and nothing works out. You'll feel like you're not making any progress. Trust me, you are making progress and I believe in you.

If something really isn't working out and you find yourself growing distressed, take a break. It might last an hour or a week. Just take the break. Don't push it. Come back with fresh eyes and less stress. We all have days where nothing comes out right. Sometimes I can't even draw anything resembling a human face. It's okay. Whisper-yell expletives at your artwork and take the break. It will be okay.

With all that said, happy drawing and even happier codywan kissing!! 🧡💋🩵

[capacle]

Roll first, think later

There’s a fascinating phenomenon I observe every time I play with beginners.

Of all the unwritten rules new players are expected to grasp through play, a very common one is when to interject their narrative with a dice roll. Sure, most games have a variation of “describe what you want to do, and then roll the dice to see how it goes,” but exactly when one should stop narrating what happens and let the dice tell part of the story is more of an art form.

I usually see beginners falling somewhere between one of two ends of the spectrum. There’s either:

Player: “I swing my sword at them and cut them in half, and I look around, and the princess has fallen in love with me.” GM: “Wait, wait, wait. Let’s, uh… start with the attack roll first. How about that?”

Or:

GM: “It’s your turn.” Player: “Oh.” *rolls a d20* GM: “Wait, wait, wait. What are you even trying to do?”

It usually takes a few rolls (or a few sessions), but once we grasp that timing, it becomes so second nature that any game that subverts that norm feels… weird. 

Well, it just so happens that I love weird.

“I punch them and knock them out.” Photo by Johann Walter Bantz on Unsplash

The misfortunes of fortune

When I say “norm” above, I’m oversimplifying. Different games have different moments when you’re expected to stop and roll the dice. Even within the same game, different types of action might call for different timing in rolls. 

This "dice roll placement" is what is normally referred to as fortune positioning, and if you search online for “fortune in the middle”, for example, you’ll find… well, contradicting definitions. But that’s beside the point. What’s important is that fortune positioning determines at which point in the trajectory from declaration of intent and narrated outcome we stop to check the dice (or any form of resolution mechanic, really). 

Traditionally, players learn when and how to do it by experience—observing their friends, absorbing table culture, and getting it wrong a few times until they get a feel for it. 

For some actions, it is easier to tell the right moment. If you are using a specific ability, there’s usually a well-defined order in which things happen. You say, “I’m going to activate my Soul Blast” or whatever, and we go, “OK, roll, and then we see what happens.” 

Things get murkier when there’s no hard-coded procedures, like social situations in trad games. You perform that incredible speech but roll poorly—now what? Do we undo what you just said? Do we make some mental gymnastics to justify why it didn’t land? Should you have gotten a bonus because of your roleplay? But if your character is not very charismatic in the first place, should they have even been able to articulate such a compelling argument? Endless discussions over this topic alone have filled forums for the past decades. 

Even when games have a much clearer instruction about fortune positioning—like PbtA games, which literally have a trigger for every move—it is still an acquired skill to understand when to shut your mouth and say, “Well, I guess we have to roll now, right?”. 

“Well, I guess I actually insulted the king instead.” Photo by Julia Taubitz on Unsplash

Fortune at the extremes

There’s no one solution for that situation, because, at least for me, it is not a problem to begin with. I see it instead as a fertile ground for experimentation. 

I’ve tried different approaches for fortune positioning with my games, and I especially like to push the needle beyond what’s usually considered the far ends of the spectrum. Let me explain what I mean.

See, when people describe “fortune at the end”, it usually implies that you describe everything that your character is able to do to affect the outcome, then you roll the dice, and then narrate the result. But what if you narrated even the outcome before you rolled the dice?

That’s what I did in Insurgent. The game says:

Regardless of your result, everything you describe happens exactly how you describe it. The roll of the dice determines the fallout of your action.

See, the dice don’t determine whether you succeed in your intended action. Instead, you describe the whole action beforehand, including its result. The dice inform the consequences of your action. A “fortune at the very end” kind of roll, perhaps?

At the other end of the spectrum, we have “fortune at the beginning,” which is usually described as rolling right after a declaration of intent and approach, using the dice result to inform what and how it happens. But… can’t we go even further back? What if we rolled before we decided what to do?

Fortune at point zero

That example at the beginning—the player enthusiastically reaching for the dice and rolling even before clarifying their intention—always stuck with me. What if we didn’t try to stop it, but instead leaned into it as the intended behavior?

For that to work, I figured that the system would have to follow these criteria:

All rolls in the game should be the same.

A roll is expected to be made at every turn.

There should be meaningful choices after the roll is made.

I finally managed to pull it off in my latest release, Load the Simulation. Let me show you how I followed these criteria and why I believe it works. 

At the top of your turn, before you even think about your action, you grab 3d6 and roll them. It’s always 3d6, and there are no modifiers. If you had attributes, skills or actions that indicated different modifiers (like d20 systems), dice pools (as in Blades in the Dark), dice sizes (as in Savage Worlds), or dice pools and sizes (like in Cortex Prime), that wouldn’t work. You’d at least need to declare your approach before rolling. I didn’t want that, so all rolls are the same (meeting the first criterion). 

These rolls happen during the training exercise—your character is on a centuries-long mission to prepare exoplanets for colonization, and you’re going through training simulations (think The Matrix, X-Men or Star Trek). Since every turn represents an attempt to progress toward your mission objective, a roll is always required (meeting the second criterion). In a more open-ended scenario, that assumption wouldn’t necessarily apply.

Each die represents something different:

• The YOU die – Your character’s effort.

• The FOE die – The opposition.

• The ECO die – The environment.

You roll them together and arrange the results in a vertical line on the table, from highest to lowest— the Stack. The die with the highest roll determines the dominant force in the scene. If the YOU die is not the highest, you’ll take Conditions. You have to choose whether to affect:

Your body (Harm) – Bruises, burns, or worse.

Your mind (Stress) – The slow wear of fear and pressure.

Your relationships (Friction) – Putting crewmates in danger, failing to have their back, or blaming them for your mistakes.

You can also choose to break one of your modules to avoid a condition, or use them in the scene to break a tie. So there’s this short mini-game you play after you roll to determine the mechanical implications of your roll (the third criterion). 

With all the mechanical bits resolved, you’re left with a scene to paint. The roll generated a lot of input, and you can create a rich narrative that won’t later be contradicted by a dice roll. 

Say the ECO die is higher, and you marked Friction. How does the environment take central stage, and how does that affect your bonds with your crewmates? Perhaps a tremor opens a giant crack in the ground, you grab your friend by the arm to keep balance, but end up sending them tumbling down near the edge of the cliff. That is… so much fun!

You get to look at the dice as a fortune-teller reading runes, and extract juicy, colorful fiction from the results. You decide if you’re in a more active position, taking the lead and making progress, or in a more reactive one, trying to resist this alien world that is trying to crush you. 

See, it is not that you are abdicating control over what your character does by rolling before deciding. You still have total freedom of choice, but you’re informed of the outcome beforehand, so you get to frame that snippet of a scene, including actions and reactions, in a vivid way that incorporates everything you accomplished and everything you suffered in the process. And I think that’s neat. 

There’s more nuance to it (each combination of dice position has different mechanical ramifications), but that’s the gist of it. I’m certainly not the first person to think of the roll first, think later approach to resolution mechanics, but I am really excited about how I managed to implement it in Load the Simulation. 

If you want to learn more about this game of high-octane training simulations and intense interpersonal conflict, the crowdfunding campaing started yesterday and I'd love your support.

[aydience-world]

Kai Chisaki's past headcanons

Since we won’t be getting any additional info anymore and for the sake of my own sanity, I have decided to create my own headcanon of Kai Chisaki’s past in detail and how he came to be the man we know as Overhaul based on the few crumbs we got in the manga. 

*Kai was born to a less than average income family and his parents also have similar deconstruct or reassemble quirks, although to much more limited matter.

*Overhaul is a complex quirk and young Kai initially struggled, especially with the reconstruction part. He would attempt to break down and repair his toys but fail more often than not. His parents were uncaring and did not make any effort to support or help their son improve his skill.

*A freak accident happens one day and Kai accidentally deconstructs one of his parents. Frightened, he tries to undo this accident but fails and his parent ends up completely disfigured. The remaining parent freaks out and says some atrocious things to him, similar words Overhaul used to say to Eri. (Ex. “Your existence is a curse”, etc.). I hc this happened when he was around 6-7 years old.

*Following this incident, the remaining parent takes their broken spouse and Kai to a quirk doctor, Dr Garaki, or another doctor associated with him. The doctor takes great interest in Kai’s ability and sees him as a potential candidate as one of AFO’s spare children. The parent wants to get rid of Kai asap and the doctor gladly takes him into the orphanage. Kai would be living there for several years.

*In the orphanage, Kai has to undergo a series of tests and exercises by making him use his quirk on objects, lab animals and sometimes even other children. This is where Kai begins to become more proficient in using his quirk, on both physical and living matter.

*The abandonment from his parents and the grotesque nature of the experiments causes Kai to fall into deep depression and existential crisis. At this point in his life, he hates his quirk and wonders why he was born with it, why was he born at all? He starts questioning everything. Where does this ability come from? Why do people like him exist? Why is the world this way in the first place?

*During one of the experiments, Kai brings up one of his questions to Dr Garaki, who answers what scientists currently know and while there is no concrete evidence, there are several theories, one of them being the mice theory which deduces that quirks are a virus originating from mice. He refers Kai to the small library in the orphanage.

*Kai then proceeds to read several books and science journals about this quirk phenomenon to understand the origin of quirks and the current state of humanity and studies the mice theory. To him, it all comes together. Quirks are a plague, a virus which comes from dirty animals which explains why quirks mutate so rapidly. Among all the material he has read, this had to be the truth because it made the most sense.  The reason why he’s the way he is and the reason why his parents abandoned him. He realized they are all infected and quirks don’t have any cure. This realization drives him into a frenzy and he develops a germaphobia, specifically against quirk users, since they will always remind him of the mice theory.

*Due to his phobia, Kai develops a further disgust for people and keeps to himself, avoiding other children in the orphanage.  He prefers to keep to himself and read books, learning new things about science and the world. He never formed any meaningful relationships in the orphanage.

*After some time Tenko was born, AFO began searching for the right quirk in the orphanages that he could give him to make Tenko an ultimate weapon of destruction and hate. Thanks to all the tests and experiments, Kai’s quirk catches AFO’s attention and he instructs Garaki to make a stronger copy of Overhaul but remove the reassemble part since the quirk should only be used to destroy.

*This time, Garaki needs to restrain Kai in order to extract his quirk genes to make a copy that focuses on the deconstruction part and enhance it, which would eventually become Decay. This would be done by Dr Garaki extracting blood and small pieces of flesh from Kai.

*Now, this experiment was not simply just to make a copy and remove the secondary function, the deconstruction part needed to be much more destructive at a much faster rate and unlike Overhaul, which only affects a single target, Decay has to affect multiple targets through a domino effect. It takes numerous tries to achieve this outcome. Other children would be given the copy to test it and many would perish in the creation of this quirk.

*The continuous pain and physical contact during the experiment leaves Kai in a frenzy and he completely breaks out in hives multiple times throughout the process. Regardless, the experiment continues until Decay turns out the way Garaki and AFO envision. This trauma continues until adulthood and he now breaks out in hives whenever someone touches him.

*At last, Decay is complete and AFO proceeds to give it to Tenko. Garaki doesn’t bother healing Kai because he knows Kai can fix himself. He is released back into the orphanage but has to stay there in case AFO needs any adjustments. He is still traumatized from the experiment and hates his quirk even more. He blames his quirk more than Garaki.

*Tenko’s quirk activated for the first time which meant the experiment was a success for AFO and Garaki. AFO informs Garaki about the progress and he leaves the orphanage to help him with the preparations of grooming Tenko. (Tenko was 5 years old when this happened so Kai is 12 at this point). A substitute is assigned to the orphanage during Garaki’s absence but they don’t really come through. Only a handful of kids are left since most of them died during the creation of Decay. With all the attention on Tenko, the children left at the orphanage are neglected and left to starve.

*Eventually Kai has enough and uses his quirk to escape. He runs into the night, not looking back or stopping until his legs can’t take it anymore. He wonders why he didn’t escape sooner but realizes he has nowhere to go and wanders aimlessly alone through the streets at night.

*He has a small panic attack and hives outbreak but this is overshadowed by hunger and fatigue. Eventually exhaustion takes over and he slumps down against a wall in an alley, falling asleep on the street.

*He wakes up the next morning, covered in dust and dirt from the ground but the raging hunger is too distracting to care. He looks for food but no one is willing to help this dirty kid. He considers going through trash but can’t bring himself to and goes on hungry.

*It’s already afternoon and only then does someone notice Kai. A middle-aged man calls his attention, offering to help him get home. Realizing this child doesn’t have a home, he adopts Kai and makes him part of the Shie Hassaikai.  To Kai, this act of kindness would never be forgotten and swore to himself he would repay this kindness no matter what.

*The life of a yakuza is not exactly the most suitable environment for a child/teen to grow up in, and “affection” would be shown through tough love or ’roughing up until set straight’. (The traditional Asian way).  Pops did attempt to ask Kai about his past but Kai’s answers are very vague so Pops does not pry further. The trauma doesn’t get addressed and shows some behavioral problems from him later on.

*Kai eventually befriends Kurono Hari who grew up with the Shie Hassaikai. Hari shows Kai the ropes of being a yakuza, and also gives him tips about the gangster life. Kai quickly adapts into his new home and Hari becomes his closest and most trusted friend, joining and supporting whatever Kai comes up with.

*Kai truly cherishes Pops and his new home, to the point that he gets into fights with other kids for insulting his new home, or comparing them to villains, who he considers sick. Pops thanks him for defending the Shie Hassaikai’s honor and Kai makes this his life mission. As mentioned before, Pops showed affection through a “tough love” style, so hearing praise like this was rare. Kai secretly craved to be given more appreciation and affection, which is something he never received as a child, and the reason why he goes far and beyond just to ‘repay his debt’ to Pops.

*Eventually, Kai comes to terms with his “infection”. The quirk he blamed for his abandonment and suffering is now seen as a tool he needs to use to defend the Shie Hassaikai. And he knows his quirk makes him powerful. He needs this power to protect his home and become the man the Shie Hassaikai needs. 

*Kai started wearing a facemask during his teenage years, wanting to protect himself from breathing the same air as his filthy, quirk-ridden classmates. 

*The exposure to illicit activities and fights among gangs and other gang members made Kai truly develop his fighting and social skills. He learns how to charm, manipulate and intimidate to get his way. Above all, he leaves his enemies dead or near dead after a battle, instilling fear in not only rival gangs but also his own members. He quickly becomes well-known among the yakuzas as a deadly and fearsome individual who should not be taken lightly. Pops does not approve of Kai getting into these kinds of fights but Kai considers this part of repaying his debt.

*The yakuza influence is diminishing in society as one after another organization gets disbanded. Kai is hurt from seeing their organization backed into a corner and he blames the quirk plague, believing that quirks cause further delusion to use them for heroic or villainous causes. He imagines that the world would be a more ideal place for the yakuza if there were no more quirks. No heroes to oppose them and no villains to take their rightful place in the underworld.

*He proceeds to make the Shie Hassaikai more powerful by gaining more recruits and money. He does so by getting into ring fights to garner more respect and also starts businesses such as loan sharks and drug dealing for more income. Pops also does not approve of this and calls him out.

*Pops and Kai frequently clash about his methods. Pops believes in adjusting to the new normal as a yakuza but Kai cannot agree to this and wants the yakuza to come back to power, standing by ‘the end justifies the means’ philosophy. 

*One fateful day, Pops’ daughter calls him out of the blue, panicked about her daughter’s ability, unceremoniously drops Eri off at the Shie Hassaikai’s compound and leaves to be never heard of again. Pops notices that Eri’s quirk has similarities to Kai’s and (foolishly) thinks it would be a good idea to have Kai look after her and study her, somehow hoping Kai would connect to her and have something else to do rather than engaging in criminal businesses.

*There is an instant aversion towards Eri when Kai first sees her, which is because she reminds him too much of himself. But then he studies and starts understanding her ability, realizing she could actually revert back humanity to their original state- quirkless. After all this time, all the suffering caused by quirks, the hopeless truth of the mice theory- at last there was an answer and Eri could make it all go away. He finds a way to use her quirk genes the very same way Garaki had done to him. He comes up with a plan that not only answers his questions to his former existential crisis, but also a way to help the Shie Hassaikai. If there were no more heroes or villains to oppose their place, the yakuza could rise to power again. In addition to that, they could also make so much money if they monopolized quirks. All the previous struggles he had could be fixed through Eri.

*Kai proposes this plan to Pops and we all know how that ended. When Pops threatens to kick him out, Kai falls into despair, afraid to lose the one thing that matters most to him. He puts Pops into a coma so he can proceed with his plan unopposed but he does feel very guilty about hurting him but comforts himself in the thought that all of what he’s doing is for Pops, to repay his kindness. He discards his name, going by the name of his quirk instead which he formerly detested, and wears a plague mask instead, symbolizing he is on the pursuit to cure the world.

Spoiler alert: no more arms and no more Shie Hassaikai.

[aphroditestearsofjoy]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 📜

Before my new schoolyear starts I want to write a guide on how I am going to keep up with all my subjects. I will also include my study habits for this year, since they make sure I have the time and mindset in order to properly study.

𝕊𝕥𝕦𝕕𝕪 𝕙𝕒𝕓𝕚𝕥𝕤:

🪷 I prelearn for every subject (except old Greek and Latin). That means I study the concepts before class, so I can use class for revision and ask all my questions.

🪷 Make a week overview of what needs to be done, then decide every morning what schoolwork to focus on. This way it's easier to adjust to unexpected plans.

🪷 When summarizing, I make sure I understand everything that I write down. If I don't, I will search for more information until I can explain it in my own words!

🪷 Nothing gets me in the mood to study, like making tea. I will make herbal tea or a matcha latte while grabbing everything I need to study after school.

𝕃𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕟/ 𝕆𝕝𝕕 𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕜:

🪷 The last few years I haven't studied a lot of words, to make up for it, I want to pay a little bit of extra attention to studying words. If I know more words, translating will go way easier since I won't have to search up every word in the dictionary. On school days and Sundays, I will study words for 10 minutes a day for either old Greek or Latin. I will study the words using Studygo (huge recommendation for other Dutch folks).

🪷 Another thing I lack with both subjects is my knowledge about grammar. And this is a HUGE problem while doing homework, translating texts and for finishing tests on time. I know how to use grammar, but I don't know most of it by heart. So I will study grammar for 10 minutes a day for both subjects on schooldays and Sundays until I've caught up. From then on, I will only occasionally memorize grammar. Studying grammar consists of literary saying it aloud like some song or poem until I know it well enough and then writing it down way too many times.

🪷 I also want to practise translating more. Since this is the most important skill for both subjects and I haven't done most of my work for the past years, I will make up for it by practising easier texts. Every Sunday, I will translate an extra paragraph for each subject that I will let my teachers correct the following Monday. I will do this until I am satisfied with my translating abilities.

🪷 This year I want to make all my homework for old Greek and Latin. Past years I skipped most of the work, and now I notice that I need more practise. I will study a few days before a test, but nothing more.

𝕄𝕒𝕥𝕙:

🪷 I love maths (controversial opinion, I know). But I believe that when you understand maths, you will love it! But how do you understand it? You should memorize the basics. When you study about a specific topic, watch or read an explanation and make notes. Make sure to make space in the notes for the basics, like concepts you've already learned that has a connection with your new topic. In order to make sure I know how to properly use the topic, I will solve or write down the solution of a practise question next to an explanation as to who I took that step. If I were to get really lost later on, I can follow these steps, but with the new question. Then the most important thing: Practise a lot! Even if it's hard at first. The more problems you solve, the more problems you get. You don't want to waste time when you don't know what to do. So read the question and start thinking what you need to do to solve it. If you genuinely don't have an any idea, look at the solution. But, you won't just look at the solution, you will study it, you look at the steps they take and ask yourself with every step why they took that specific step. When you are done studying the answer, make the question again. I personally write down the questions I struggled with most, to practise them again for my exam!

ℙ𝕙𝕪𝕤𝕚𝕔𝕤:

🪷 Physics is my favourite and one of my best subjects. I always start out with summarizing the concepts in my own words. The biggest problem I have with physics is understanding all the concepts that I can use them together. To make sure I get everything, I summarize. The parts I do not understand, I will watch a video about. Then I start with making exercises, I will look through the exercises and make at least one about every concept. I will make more about the concepts that didn't go well, until I get them right. To prepare for tests, I read through my summary and make lots of practise questions. I will revise everything that didn't go well and remake the questions that went wrong.

ℂ𝕙𝕖𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕪:

🪷 When studying chemistry, I mainly try to focus on practise. I would start out with reading the learning outcomes and then actively the entire text. I mark thing I find important, write the questions down that come to mind when reading, and connect information. Then I make a small summary in the format of a mind map. I write down only the most important concepts. Then I start making a lot of exercises about the concept, until I can do them comfortably and without mistakes. Afterwards, I make flashcards using the learning outcomes. By doing this afterwards I make sure I know the best way to answer, and with chemistry lots of question come up while doing the work. When studying for a test, I use the flashcards and remaking the questions I struggled most with.

𝔻𝕦𝕥𝕔𝕙:

🪷 This year I'm preparing for my Dutch finals. To work on my skill, I mainly have to make past finals. I really want to make a summary about all the concepts that come back on the finals. But other that, we mainly have exercises that I can't prepare in advance for. I do really want to expand my vocabulary, because it makes me feel fancy. I should start reading the news more, that way I will also be more informed about the world.

𝔼𝕟𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕙:

🪷 This year I am taking a Cambridge English exam. My goal is to score a C-Level (advanced). In order to do this I must work on my grammar, vocabulary, writings and listening. I will tackle each property with a guide on how to get better at them.

🪷 My grammar is pretty good, my only problem. I don't know the actual rules. When writing, having a grammatical correct structure kind of happens on its own. Most of the time, that's very helpful, but when I have to point out mistakes in high quality or older texts, I can't. In order to work on this, I would recommend using an actual book. The one I'm starting out with this year is "Advanced Grammar in Use with Answers' from Martin Hewings. I will work through it by reading the theory, using it on my own, and then making the exercises in the book.

🪷 To expand my vocabulary I will write down new words I see when interacting with English content and books and study them. The goal is to learn 30 words a week. I will add all the words to an anki list, so that I can keep practising older words.

🪷 During the proficiency exam it's expected from you that you are able to write formal letters, essays, reports and reviews. To practise, I will write one of these a week and ask my teacher for feedback. I will also use the writing site from Cambridge, where they I've you a writing a prompt, and you can submit your text and let them corrected by professionals. For people who are not able to ask their teacher for help, I would recommend using ChatGPT. Although this is not ideal, it will still help you improve.

🪷 By listening to a daily podcast in English, I will practise my listening skills. It's very important to practise your English listening skills without visual guidance. Of course watching movies will help you improve, but if you want to improve in the shortest amount of time, you need to listen to audios.

ℍ𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪:

🪷 I personally find history one of the easiest subjects to study. I study history by chapter and not by paragraph. I always read through the entire chapter and then make a timeline with all the information. So I will include all the concepts, names and everything else in my timeline. Then I will study it by talking through it like I am teaching someone. Every time I miss something while explaining, I will memorize it again. I write down all the most important concepts down a few times, so I will remember how they are spelled and don't make any mistakes on my test! I don't make many exercises since they don't really help me that much. But if I have the time and energy, I make a few of the questions that were asked on previous finals.

𝔹𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕪:

🪷 Biology is a very information heavy subject, and I find that it's pretty easy to get lost in all the concepts. I have a pretty strict guide for myself, so I can study biology in the least amount of time. I will start out by reading the learning outcomes for the paragraph, so I know what the most important things are. Then I start actively reading through the paragraph. I mark thing I find important, write the questions down that come to mind when reading, and connect information. Afterwards, I will summarize everything in a mind map. Not just one mind map for every chapter, but one for every group of concepts that fit together well. These mind maps are very big and have all the relevant information, that's why you should minimize the amount of topics on a mind map, because otherwise it won't fit. Then I make the most important exercises and start studying the summaries by pretending that I'm giving a presentation about them, everything that I forget to mention I will memorize again. The day before the test, I will write down the explanation of all the learning outcomes from memory and correct them. Lastly, l review all the concepts that I lacked in.

Be sure to like, comment and reblog! If you like my content, consider buying me a book. <3 Sending you all the love, ~ Pearl 🐚

[physalian]

Character Types: The Coward

Specifically, the cowardly protagonist, because this character is so tricky to make compelling and not insufferable.

Cowards, much like schemers, tend to be the antithesis of a brave, selfless hero. They look out for themselves first, and if anyone else benefits, it’s a happy accident. Unlike schemers, they’re missing an inflated ego. They lack the drive and confidence to connive and claw for power.

Which tends to make cowards extremely unlikable, because not only are they unheroic, they’re useless. Plenty of characters get called cowards when they’re not, they’re just being sensible, and plenty more wear that badge proudly.

So how do you make one that isn’t a burden on the story and endlessly frustrating to the audience?

Well, I wrote one, and so far haven’t had any complaints.

Elias is my protagonist in Eternal Night, and he is a coward, and he knows it. He’s quiet, a bit of a cynic, a proud introvert, and a nerd. He also lives in a hyper-survivalist society that doesn’t waste any time on superfluous things like mourning their dead or facing their emotions because if they did they’d all steep into a depression rot and never escape.

The survival rate of hunting parties outside their cave is pretty low and Elias already lost his only brother to an accident, and has absolutely no desire to leave the cave. He’s got a perfect job as the Keeper—bookkeeping, inventory, and historical record.

He has a valid reason to be selfish: Being brave just gets you killed.

Elias is not a “chosen one”. He’s just extremely unlucky and cannot catch a break, dragged around by different vampires and clashing covens, none of whom really like him all that much, but for plot reasons he’s important to their plans.

The only character who cares about him is a Fixer and my Fixer absolutely suffers for sticking his neck out for Elias.

There is no “the power was inside you all along” moment, no “you’re the one true king to unite all the vampire covens” moment. Elias’s whole plot journey is to do whatever it takes to survive to the next morning and maybe also woo a boyfriend cause eyyyyy.

His whole story journey, which is different than the plot, is learning how fucked his clan’s survivalist nature made him. He’s missing so many social skills, so many milestones in life, so many experiences that are just a given to everyone he meets.

To somebody who’s never seen the stars or even clouds before, dumping him into a castle of 200 strangers and asking him to make friends is a tall order. Dumping him into a den of what he’s been raised to think of as monsters and stockholm-syndromed blood slaves and asking him to make friends is damn near impossible.

Elias is self-serving, and self-sabotaging in nearly every way. He’s wrong, about most everything he says, and doesn’t get away with it.

Elias’s refusal to make nice and let old grudges fade makes him extremely disliked by everyone in his new home, except for one person. So when the time comes for Drama and Plot, they do not give a single shit about protecting him, because he didn’t give a shit about protecting them.

“I just want to be normal” heroes are annoying, unless the task they’re chosen for is hell. Everybody wants to be a wizard at Hogwarts. But nobody’s signing up to volunteer for the Hunger Games.

Elias’s “fuck this I want to go home” selfishness does have merit. He doesn’t want to be food. But everywhere he turns, characters are proving him wrong about how it’s not “just being food,” how their society benefits everyone in the harsh environment they live in, how they’re doing the best they can with what they have and it’s not perfect but it’s better than the alternative.

He fights it at every turn. It’s not just “wah I hate vampires because they’re icky” it’s “I’ve been raised to hate vampires, and you ripped me from my home and everything I ever knew and they might all be dead now. If I start sleeping with the enemy and forgive and forget, then who am I?”

Elias might be a coward, but he’s not lazy, and he’s not stupid. He doesn’t throw a tantrum and refuse to accept the alternatives to being food. He works hard for his place (once he gets over his weaponized incompetence), works hard to try and save himself by learning more about his world and geography and all his possible escape routes, and when his survivalist upbringing of “do or die” comes in, Elias doesn’t freeze when he’s cornered, he comes alive.

So he’s still very much a “coward” in that he primarily only wants to save himself (and the one other character he cares about), but he’s not a couch potato, not a damsel in distress who can’t lift a finger to break the locks on his own cage, and the plans he does come up with to stay alive actually work.

I don’t expect Elias to be anyone’s favorite character, he wasn’t designed that way. He’s a walking tragedy constantly in the wrong place at the wrong time and gets caught in the middle of a fight he never asked for over and over again.

—

I also don’t see a ton of protagonists like him, so if you’re going to write one, or even a cowardly side character who audiences aren’t supposed to hate, I’ll synthesize the above points here:

Give them a valid reason for why they’re selfish, some reason that might have anyone else in their situation probably making the same choices

Make it clear that they are wrong, and that their own cowardice is their largest hurdle, and that either the plot or other characters don’t let them get away with it

Give them positive traits to balance out the cowardice. Maybe they’re kind, or they’re funny or they’re clever, but audiences do need something to root for

Give them agency. They can’t sit around like a bump on a log being a burden to the plot and the other characters. Even if they’re only in it to save themselves, they still have to work to accomplish that

Bonus option: Give them somebody else to shed their cowardice for, especially if they pick the absolute worst moment possible to suddenly become a hero

—

If you’re interested in Elias’s story, the first book in the planned trilogy is out now: Eternal Night of the Northern Sky

[astarionbraiinrot]

Last Call

Chapter 4: Arrival

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Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.

 – Maya Angelou

What followed was a flurry of activity. Tents are put up and bedrolls laid out. Jaheira moves her bag into his and Tav’s tent. Shadowheart starts delegating tasks to the others, instructing Gale to get a cauldron of water boiling on the fire and having Wyll and Karlach gather whatever spare sheets and towels are available, before returning to start assisting Jaheira. Halsin takes Minsc and Boo with him to see if they can forage any useful plants or herbs. Lae’zel corrals little Xan, woken by all the noise, back into their own tent, then proceeds to threaten Volo with a swift maiming if he even thinks of writing anything about this. Volo, thankfully, makes himself scarce. Withers continues to idle away ominously in that little chapel on the edge of the camp, which isn’t really any change from what he’s already been doing all night, but at least he’s consistent.

For his part, Astarion had been tasked by Jaheira with sitting next to Tav, holding her hand, and not being in the way. Which he can do, certainly, there’s no place he’d rather be than right beside her. He can’t help but to feel incredibly extraneous, though.

He watches as Shadowheart washes her hands, then performs some sort of incredibly invasive examination of Tav, declaring her to be “at four centimeters,” whatever that means. When he asks, he’s told it means they’ll likely have a while before “the main event” started. When he questions how long this process would take, he’s absolutely floored to be informed by Jaheira that it’s typically many hours, and a day or more wasn’t unusual, especially the first time. He can only look at Tav in horror, choking out a whispered I am so sorry, love.

His face must be a sight, because upon seeing his wide-eyed concern at what could not possibly be a normal timeline for this sort of thing, Tav immediately starts laughing. This coincides with what must be another contraction, because she then starts trying to breathe through the laughter using the exercises Jaheira had shown them, letting out a quiet ow, ow, ow between each breath. It’s just as the contraction is tapering off that the four of them hear a sharp little snap! sound, almost like a tiny bowstring breaking, that’s followed by a slowly growing puddle appearing underneath Tav’s bottom.

Well, if they hadn’t been sure before, there was no question what was going on now.

── ･✩*₊˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖���*✩･ ──

Most of the next several hours is spent with he and Tav walking steady laps around the campsite, her being encouraged in turns by Jaheira, Shadowheart, and Halsin to pause and stand, or squat, or lean on him through the contractions. He learns several new and highly-specific skills over this time. How to help her sway through the pain. How to knead his fingers into the muscles of her back and hips in order to provide some relief. How to lead her through the breathing exercises and help her stay focused. How to grimace politely and swallow down any whimpers of pain any time Tav squeezes his hand and it feels like she’s going to crush all the little bones in his fingers.

He rather thinks he’s doing a pretty spectacular job, all things considered. Tav, of course, is handling this with the same skill and determination she’d handled leading them through their whole tadpole adventure that had begun just over a year ago now. Which is to say, despite never having done this before, she’s at least doing a spectacular job of acting like she knows what she’s doing. Hells, she’s even been making jokes throughout, and worse, not even good jokes, including panting out a particularly lewd one mid-contraction about how this is what she gets because “vampires need permission to come inside,” which had left him sorely tempted to set himself on fire. Ugh, really. Here they are, mere hours away from becoming parents to the little monster that’s seemingly doing its best to rip her insides apart, and she’s making puns.

If it weren’t for the fact that they weren’t actually married, he’d divorce her on the spot out of principle.

── ･✩*₊˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖₊*✩･ ──

More hours pass in a hazy loop of standing, sitting, swaying, squatting. When dawn begins pinkening the horizon, they move into that little chapel Withers had been occupying. Jaheira had somehow bullied the man (Skeleton? Lich? God?) out of the building, saying that it had a better purpose to serve than housing his dusty bones. A bedroll piled high with blankets and pillows had been set up for Tav to rest on, and their bags, along with Jaheira’s medical supplies, had been brought in. The final touch was to hang a blanket over the doorway to keep the sun out and scatter several lanterns around to provide light.

He had to admit, this was a much better idea than the tent, which wasn’t exactly made to hold four people. Especially not when one of them was in the middle of ejecting a fifth person. The chapel left them with plenty of room to move about without stepping on each other’s toes.

Still more hours pass. Sometime around midday, things really start to ramp up, and he learns that what Tav had been experiencing since last night was, supposedly, the easy part of labor, not that there was an “easy” part from what he’d seen so far. Now the contractions, coming more frequently and much more intensely, have Tav gritting her teeth through the pain until she’s reminded to breathe, Tav, quick breaths, like you’re blowing out a candle, and leave her gasping when they end. He does what he can to try and help, but there really isn’t much for him to do. His job here is, for some ungodly reason, emotional support, and he’s pretty sure the only person less equipped for that task than him is Lae’zel.

Honestly, what in the fresh hells was he even doing here? What was the point of him, when he couldn’t even succeed at the simple task of “sit there and look pretty,” a task he had been the undisputed king of for two centuries. Tav had been in pain for hours, had been dealing with this for months, and he’d helped by, what? Doing the shopping? Moving some furniture around? He certainly wasn’t doing anything helpful now, which was probably his fault for not reading any of those books Jaheira had left them because they’d freaked him out, and really, the fact that they were even in this position to begin with was also his fault, because while it might take two to tango, so to speak, he’d done the math, and he and Tav hadn’t exactly had ample periods of alone time in the first months of their journey, so he was almost certain he could pinpoint the creation of this little creature to the night he and Tav had snuck off to celebrate his return to unlife after having an entire monastery collapsed on top of him (which was also his fault, though he’d never admit to that one, because he’d been the one to grab that damned mace).

And sure, Jaheira and Shadowheart said that everything was going as it should, but that could change in an instant, couldn’t it? If he had learned anything throughout the last few months of Tav’s pregnancy, it was that everyone wanted to talk to them about it. Ever since Tav had started showing, any time they went anywhere, they’d been subjected to not just unsolicited advice, but complete horror stories from random strangers, always shared with the same nonchalance as if they were talking about the weather. Everyone had a story, from the woman at the market who’d gone on about her wife nearly hemorrhaging to death with their daughter, to the man in line at the Counting House who’d regaled them with the story of sitting in his room as a young boy and hearing his mother’s screams as his younger brother was delivered feet-first, to the positively ancient old Dwarf that ran his favorite fabric shop, who’d ended what had been a rather tame retelling of her youngest’s birth with Now once she came out, I passed the afterbirth, and wouldn’t ye know, my womb came out right along with it, like I were a dumplin’ what lost its fillin’! So the midwife had to stuff it back in, ye see. Used ‘er fist, like she were punchin’ down dough. Took ‘er what must’ve been near on thirty minutes, and I were hollerin’ and swearin’ up a blue streak all the while. And I’ll tell ye, that hurt worse’n having the little’un ‘erself did! I told my fella I’d be takin’ a knife to ‘is bollocks if ‘e even thought about wantin’ fer another after all o’ that.

(Tav hadn’t been bothered in the slightest, cackling along with the woman at this apparently hilarious story. Which wasn’t surprising, considering her pre-tadpole life. He, on the other hand, had turned a rather unflattering shade of green at the far too animated hand gestures that had accompanied the woman’s story, and had had to turn away to dry-heave in the nearby bin.)

He knows he’s fixating, knows it’s not doing him any good to focus on what could happen rather than what is happening, but he can’t help it. Good things don’t happen to him, and he’s spent the last year waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the curtain to be pulled away and reveal that this had all been a grand ruse, an elaborate scheme, just one more shovelful on the pile of pure shit that had been his life. That he’d never actually gotten out of that tomb at all, and all of this was just his mind creating pretty stories while he slipped further and further into madness in the perpetual dark and silence of a stone box.

And of course, like fucking clockwork, there went his damned lungs again, hitching like they weren’t getting enough of the oxygen that they didn’t actually need godsdamnit. There was the first flush of familiar heat crawling up his neck and prickling at his scalp. There was the shivering in his core threatening to spread to his hands.

No. Nope. Absolutely not. He was not doing this right now. Because while he did have quite a few rather important things to be rightfully panicking over currently, now was not the fucking time. He had one job, keep focused on Tav, and he’d be damned if–

He hisses through a gasp, fangs bared, as a sudden sharp spike of pain in the cartilage of his right ear pulls him out of his racing thoughts.

Turning his head to look to his right, he sees Shadowheart, a stern look on her face, with her hand poised to yank his ear again. As if he were some unruly child instead of a terrifying vampire two hundred years her senior.

“Come help me with something,” she says, giving him a firm Look and nodding towards the table on the other side of the room where she and Jaheira had been taking turns mixing ingredients he couldn’t begin to name into tinctures and potions.

He looks down to Tav, laid on her side with her eyes closed, doing her best to rest on the cot beside him while she waits for another contraction to take over, and he’s about to tell Shadowheart he isn’t moving from this spot, but Tav takes her hand from his and flaps it tiredly in his direction without even opening her eyes, telling him to go on because It’s not like I’m going anywhere, and one of us may as well get to stretch their legs. So, he gets up and follows Shadowheart to the table.

When he gets there, he’s unceremoniously handed a knife and several dried mushrooms, and given instructions to chop them as finely as possible, while Shadowheart begins stripping tiny leaves from the stems of some herb. Eyes on her work, she whispers to him, “Look, there’s not much longer to go, a few hours at most, but we can’t attend to you and Tav both, so I need to know you’re not going to freak out and collapse on us.”

He bristles at that, partly because he could feel his ears turning red in embarrassment because he’d really thought he was hiding his internal panic a lot better than that, partly at her insinuating that she didn’t think he could handle this, and partly because he was starting to think that maybe he couldn’t handle this.

“I’m not taking shots at you,” she continues, “But I only have two hands, so if you pass out, I’m going to have to leave you there on the floor.” She looks at him from the corner of her eye. “There’s no shame if you need to wait outside until this is done, plenty of expectant parents do,” she says gently. “Tav would understand.” She reaches over to place a hand on his arm. “It’s not an easy process, to go through or to watch. It’s understandable if you’re feeling overwhelmed.”

He lets out a long sigh, putting down the knife and bracing his hands on the table, and stares ahead at the wall trying to get some sort of hold on himself. “I’m not ‘overwhelmed,’” he says, sneering that last word like it had personally offended him. “I’m just… sitting here. Useless. Watching her go through this, and I can’t do anything to help.” He drops his head down, ears pinned back and eyes falling closed as he whispers, barely audible, “Even Godey, sadistic sack of shit that he was, would usually get bored of torturing us after ten or twelve hours and just lock us in the Kennels to cry ourselves unconscious. Tav’s been at this for almost an entire day, and she’s still got hours to go.” His voice starts to shake as the trembling he’d been fighting back finally wins, and he rasps out, “And all I can think about is all the ways this can go wrong, and I wouldn’t be able to stop it.”

She huffs at him, not unkindly. “Astarion, we have a cleric, two druids, a paladin, and whatever the hells Withers is, plus an entire camp’s-worth of potions and scrolls. I’m pretty sure royalty doesn’t even have births this well-attended. If anything were to go wrong, we would be able to handle it. I promise.” Grabbing his shoulders, she turns him to face her. “I’m only going to say this once, so look at me,” she says, catching his eye, “Before all this emotional sincerity makes us both sick: You are doing fine. You are in a situation that is completely out of your depth and fully out of your control, with nothing to do but watch as things happen, and it’s okay to be freaked out about it. But we can’t deal with that right now. Tav needs our focus, and she needs you by her side. You are helping, even if it doesn’t feel like it. So I need you to keep it together for a little while longer.”

With that, she gives him a little shove back towards Tav and Jaheira and turns back to her potions. He makes his way over to them, feeling slightly more in control of himself.

And if he decides to blame the nausea he’s feeling on all the talk about feelings instead of his nerves, well, that’s no one’s business but his own.

── ･✩*₊˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖₊*✩･ ──

As the day nears its end, he really hopes that Shadowheart’s assessment of “a few more hours” would prove correct. Tav’s contractions were lasting longer and longer, and the intervals between them grew ever shorter. He’d helped her move between countless positions, laying on her back, on her side, kneeling, crouched on all fours, trying to find something that would provide a little relief. Tav had, during one contraction, barked at him to stop touching her, so he’d then busied himself with handing her canteens of water, helping Shadowheart with small tasks, and refilling a cloth from a bucket of some magically-conjured ice, courtesy of Gale, so Jaheira could press it to Tav’s forehead and neck.

After a while, having been up for nearly a full day at this point, Shadowheart and Jaheira both had swapped out with Halsin for a couple hours in order to catch a quick nap. Halsin had distracted him and Tav for a time with stories of Reithwin, the rebuilding, and all the orphans in his care, before eventually pulling out a deck of cards for a few hands of Three Dragon Ante to pass the time.

Sometime after Shadowheart and Jaheira had returned, Tav had retracted her moratorium on touching, swinging in the complete opposite direction with requests for him to knead into her lower back, or to let her lean on him, or to just hold her hand. The last hour had been the worst, and he could feel Tav’s exhaustion in his own bones as what little reprieve she was getting between pains slowly disappeared. Throughout all this, there were several more invasive investigations of her innards, with words like “dilation” and “effacement” and numbers thrown back and forth between the two healers. At last, they hit whatever marked the final stretch of this ordeal, because Jaheira had followed up her quiet exclamation of “Ah, finally,” and pronouncement to Shadowheart of “ten centimeters” with “Congratulations, it seems the little one is finally ready to make its appearance.”

Tav’s tired exclamation of “Oh thank gods!” covers up the sound of his breathe punching out of him. Oh, this was really happening. Right now. For real. Right before his eyes. “Your body knows what to do, cub,” he distantly hears Jaheira saying to Tav, “Listen to it. When you feel the urge to push, do so, and I will guide you through it.”

While Shadowheart starts bringing over various supplies, he follows Jaheira’s instructions to help Tav shift into a better position for the task ahead. His eyes land on a low wooden crate at the foot of the bed, set there to act as a makeshift table. Amidst the towels, potions, and various medical supplies Shadowheart had set there, he spots a small bundle, its dark blues and soft purples standing out amidst the other objects scattered around.

That was the baby blanket he’d sewn, and the little sleepsuit Tav had picked out to go with it.

She had brought up starting on the nursery a few months ago, but he’d been hesitant, convinced that any real, tangible preparation would somehow jinx everything and draw the eyes of any of the dozen vengeful deities they’d pissed off and invite disaster. He’d come up with endless excuses over the next month for why they couldn’t do it right then, until Tav had finally called him out on it and demanded an explanation, and those fears had come flooding out of him like a burst dam. He’d eventually relented though, choosing to trust Tav’s assertion that the very mundane act of putting together the nursery was not going to attract the ire of any almighty beings who probably all had much more important and interesting things to focus on, and besides, the baby would actually need somewhere to sleep, angry gods or no.

Of course, then they’d debated over how to decorate the nursery for nearly another month. With their child being due in the spring, he’d originally wanted to go with something pastel and floral, the soft greens and yellows of a sunny spring day. A bit cliché, maybe, but appropriate. Tav had had her heart set on colors that reminded her of the night sky outside the city, though. “All those nights, sitting around the campfire with our friends, those were the first happy memories I ever made. That was the first time either of us had a real family. The first time we realized that we could be more than what we were created to be,” she’d said to him one night, as they’d lounged on the porch swing to watch the stars. “And now we’ve created something, someone, and they’ll get to be anything they want, infinite paths to choose from, innumerable as the stars. They won’t have to claw back the pieces of a life stolen from them. They’ll be free, right from the start.”

Not for the first time, he’d felt his insides turn to warm mush as she’d taken his hand, gaze still turned to the sky, and whispered,“So many things I thought I’d never have, things I’d never even known I wanted, happened under those stars. I can’t help but to want for just one more.”

And if that hadn’t set a pleasant ache going in his cold, undead heart, her leaning into him to burrow into his arms beneath the blanket they’d wrapped themselves in certainly had. He’d pressed a kiss to her temple, suddenly finding that maybe the night sky held more beauty than he’d given it credit for. “I suppose I could be persuaded on the aesthetics of stars,” he’d whispered into her hair, utterly failing to keep the smile out of his voice.

So he had sewn that blanket with swirling patches of blues and purples. Then, after writing to Halsin for help, he’d used silver thread to embroider all the constellations their friends had taught each other throughout the moonlit nights of their journey, even including a crescent moon trailed by Selune’s Tears in one corner. He’d left the opposite corner empty, leaving room to add a name. They hadn’t fully decided on one at that point, but he’d been sure they’d get to it in time.

(They still hadn’t decided on one yet, but he felt that maybe this was not the time to mention that. He didn’t think Tav would take it well, and she didn’t need another distraction. Best to just put that to the back of his mind to be dealt with it later.)

Several minutes later, with Tav in position leaned back against him, it’s the feeling of her grip suddenly tightening on his hand as another contraction starts and the sound of her voice telling Jaheira that she needs to push that bring the world back into focus for him. Jaheira gives instructions in a steady, soothing voice, a far cry from her usual gruff no-nonsense tone, guiding Tav on how to bear down, tuck her chin, and push for counts of ten.

When the contraction ends and Tav drops back against him, he feels a tightness in his chest that he thinks would feel an awful lot like his heart racing if it could still do that, and his mind focuses on only one thought.

Gods, please let this be okay.

── ･✩*₊˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖₊*✩･ ──

Time passes him by with no comprehensible speed, the next hour and a half seeming to take an eternity and also no time at all. He’s so far out of his element that he’s managed to waltz right past his nerves and loop back around to a state of focused calm he usually only finds mid-combat. It wasn’t that there weren’t plenty of anxiety-inducing things happening at the moment, of course not. The current situation is probably the single-most frightening thing he’s ever had to be a part of. It’s just that the need to feel panic and nerves generally comes around when there was a chance, no matter how small, that he could do something about it, and right now he has never been more aware that he very much cannot do anything at all.

Which is fine. Much as he might complain about being told what to do, he didn’t actually enjoy being in charge when there was planning or strategizing to be done. Oh, he’d give his opinions on every aspect for sure, they couldn’t stop him if they tried. But actually being the one responsible for calling the shots? No thank you. He much preferred when his role was being pointed at an enemy or a lock and told to take it apart. Besides, he’d spent the last year following instructions from the three women in this room. They hadn’t led him astray yet, and they seemed to have everything well in hand right now, so who was he to mess with what worked?

(Usually the first one, a little voice in his mind says, which he promptly tells to fuck right off.)

A pained cry in his ear brings the world back into focus. Tav is on her knees facing him, one arm wrapped around his shoulders, her other hand clutching his, face pressed into his neck to muffle the not-quite-scream that’s forcing its way out of her throat as Jaheira counts her through another push. Gods, they’d been at this for so long. He wants to ask if this is normal, but now isn’t the time for him to have questions, and neither Shadowheart nor Jaheira seem worried in the least, so this must be what’s supposed to happen, right?

He uses his free hand to knead into the muscles at the small of Tav’s back as the contraction starts to taper off and she’s left panting, hot breath hitting his neck like the Grymforge air. As she rests her weight on him, he switches from the kneading to taking the ice-filled cloth and pressing it to her pulse points and along her back. She’d shed the last of her clothes an hour ago, any sense of modesty having gone well and truly out the window. In her words, what was the point of wearing a shirt when the evening was going to be spent with her friend and her mentor staring at her bits, anyway?

(Not that she’d had much, if any, modesty to begin with. No one in their little adventuring group did anymore. With communal trips to the river often being their only safe bathing option the first few months, and the numerous trysts and flings that had happened around camp over their seven months of traveling together, they’d all seen each other naked enough times that the sight of a companion’s bare ass didn’t even warrant notice by the end of it.)

Tav’s grip on him tightens again, and she lets out a pained, almost whining groan into his shoulder. Jaheira’s telling her to breathe through it, gentle pushes, go slowly so she doesn’t tear (tear what?! he wants to yell). The pitch and volume of her cries increases with each of the next several pushes like this, reaching a peak that has him truly worrying for the state of her vocal cords, before she slumps forward against him again. “Good girl,” Jaheira encourages her, “That is the head out. Rest and breath for a moment, you are doing very well. We are nearly done.” She lets out a small huff of a laugh. “Such a head of hair on this one. Now we know who was responsible for all that heartburn, hm?”

He sits up a little higher, trying to catch a glance, but he can’t see anything. Tav is trembling, face still buried in his neck, and he only realizes that Shadowheart has taken her hand and brought it down between Tav’s legs when he hears Tav sniffle and let out a quiet “Oh. Oh, that’s you. You’re real,” with a wet laugh. When Tav takes his own hand again a moment later, he expects her to resume her death grip. Instead, she brings it down and guides him to where Jaheira’s hand sits, and he feels suddenly the warm weight of something hard and wet and fuzzy resting in his palm. The sting of unshed tears burns his eyes as he realizes that he’s holding what might as well be the entire world in his hand at the moment.

His throat is too tight for him to get any words out, wonder at the reality of what’s happening slowly winning over worry in the war for dominance inside him. He wants to say so many things, but all he can do when he brings his hand back up to hold Tav’s is to kiss the side of her head and rest his forehead on her shoulder.

Jaheira speaks up again. “The next part is the worst of it. When you are ready, give me strong, steady pushes, and we will have these shoulders out, yes?” He feels Tav nod into his shoulder, then tense as another pain takes her and she does her best to follow Jaheira’s instructions.

They go on like this for several more minutes, Tav’s grip on his hand growing ever stronger, the hand she’d wrapped around his back fisted into his shirt so tightly he expects he’ll need someone to cast a Mending cantrip for him when this is over. He hears a murmured “first shoulder” from Shadowheart, kneeled at their side toward the end of the bed, before she gets up and gathers a towel from the makeshift crate-table and crouches next to Jaheira.

A few more pushes, the intensity of Tav’s cries building like a wave, until she lets out a screech like a hellcat that cuts off with a tearful gasp, and he wraps his arms around her to steady her as she all but drops her weight against him, panting and sweaty like she’s just come off the battlefield.

(and he rather thinks she may as well have)

There’s a flurry of activity at the end of the bed, the two healers talking quietly to each other through vigorous movements. Tav has tensed in his arms, his own spine ramrod straight in anticipation. Waiting, hoping, praying, as long seconds tick by.

Silence, like the world is holding its breath with them.

But only for a moment.

A tiny cough, and then a fierce, angry wail cuts through the night air, and the collective exhale of relief nearly shatters him.

Quickly, Shadowheart is at their side, helping an exhausted Tav turn over in his arms to rest back against him. Then, Jaheira is gently placing a squirming, shrieking, viscera-covered little creature onto Tav’s chest, and as he stares at it, his brain just. Stops.

That wiggling little creature is a baby.

His baby.

He made that. They did. Him and Tav.

It was here and alive and theirs.

And they just get to have this.

Someone’s crying. It might be him. He’s too awestruck to care.

Jaheira lays her hand on the squalling child’s back. “Congratulations,” she says, looking a little misty-eyed herself. “Say hello to your daughter.”

── ･✩*₊˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖₊*✩･ ──

He all but floats through the next half hour, mind too preoccupied by what just happened to take in much else. None of this feels real. Jaheira has him cut the cord, which takes him by surprise when it’s not nearly so flimsy as he expects. Then Shadowheart collects the baby from Tav in order to give her a more thorough washing, him going with her at Tav’s insistence while she and Jaheira start the work of delivering the afterbirth.

He watched, fascinated, as Shadowheart cleaned all the blood and grime from his daughter. She’d offered to let him try his hand at it, but he’d declined. He wanted to, but wet and wiggling as she was, he was terrified he’d drop her. Instead, the cleric walked him through the process, showing him how to hold her steady with one hand so the other would be free to clean her. Then she was dried off, and he received a crash course in diapering, the process of which was somehow both more and less complicated than he’d anticipated.

He’s shooed away back to Tav’s side after that, the afterbirth having been delivered in his absence. She’s got that look on her face, the one she only wears when she’s about to say something ridiculous. “Sorry, babe, you just missed the snack tray,” she tells him, fake pity in her voice as she nods at the bucket Jaheira is taking outside. He sees the corners of her lips twitch as she fights to keep a straight face.

“You are a vile, wretched creature, and I want a divorce,”he deadpans, face arranged in a mock scowl.

That manages to crack her, and she leans her head into his chest, tired laughter bubbling out of her.

 When Jaheira returns, they help Tav get cleaned up, and he grabs a nightgown from her pack to help her dress while Jaheira strips and replaces the bedding. He climbs into the bedroll next to Tav, holding her as they wait and watch Shadowheart attend to their daughter.

Once she’d been weighed and dressed in the little sleepsuit they’d set out earlier, Shadowheart wraps the baby in the blanket he’d made and walks her over to them. He thinks he sees her quickly wipe a tear from her eye when she places the little bundle in Tav’s arms and says, “There we are, one perfectly healthy little lady, weighing in at a very respectable six-and-a-half pounds, and born under the first stars of twilight on Ches 19.” She sets a gentle hand on the baby’s head for just a moment. “She sure knows how to make an entrance. Picked a good day, too. What day’s more fitting for the start of a new life than the Spring Equinox?”

With that, she lets them know that she’ll be outside keeping an eye on the revelry that their companions have kicked up if they need anything, and that she’ll be back in a bit to bring them something to eat and check in on them, then exits the little chapel, leaving just the three of them to get acquainted.

He and Tav sit there for several minutes, before she breaks the silence with an awed “Holy shit, I can’t believe we just did that.”

That startles a laugh out of him. “You, my love,” he says, curling around her, “You did that. I dare say you can take full credit for all the heavy lifting of the last nine months.” Tav merely gives a noncommittal hum and unwraps the blanket from around their daughter.

“Time for an inventory check, I think.” She says it in the same amused tone she’d used during their adventure whenever the shared camp chest was getting suspiciously heavy from all the mostly-useless junk their party of packrats had hoarded in there, and someone needed to sort out all the various scrap to be offloaded at the next trader. “Let’s see… ten fingers,” she says, touching their daughter’s hands. “And ten toes…” She runs her finger along tiny feet, so small they wouldn’t even span the length of his little finger. “Two eyes, a mouth, and a nose, all present and accounted for… and,” she gently lifts the baby’s upper lip, “No teeth.” She brushes her thumb over a barely-there eyebrow. “Gods, Jaheira wasn’t kidding about the hair, was she? She looks like a dandelion!” Turning to him, she doesn’t even bother to hide her laughter as she says, “Reminds me of you in the mornings.”

He scoffs in mock indignation. “How dare you, I look nothing of the sort!” Though Tav’s right about the baby at least. Now clean and dried, her head resembles nothing so much as a dandelion in full bloom, thick head of white hair standing near-vertical from her scalp at all angles.

He’s so busy looking at his daughter, that he almost misses Tav’s bemused “Your turn,” and his frantically whispered protests of “Wait- You can’t- Hold on- I don’t know how-”  fall on deaf ears as he very quickly finds himself with an armful of baby for the first time in his entire existence. He locks every muscle in his body, going stiff as the corpse he is, wide eyes staring at Tav as he sits, frozen.

“What if I drop her???” he whispers. He doesn’t know why he keeps whispering. It just seems like the thing to do. Babies like quiet, don’t they?

She raises an eyebrow at him. “Astarion, I have seen you snatch an Orthon’s bomb from midair that was thrown at your face without even a hint of a fumble. You’re not going to drop her. Relax,” she says, adjusting his arms, “It’s not that hard. Support the head with your elbow, just like that. See? You’re a natural.”

He’s not quite sure he believes that, but he slowly untenses his body, and studies the child in his arms, truly taking her in for the first time.

His daughter has a wild halo of fluffy white hair, sparse silver eyebrows that she’s furrowed in a mimicry of her mother, and a mouth seemingly stuck in a permanent pout. Bright cerulean blue eyes, Tav’s eyes, squint hazily at him through a delicate fan of white eyelashes, seemingly assessing him right back. Two tiny, pointed ears currently sit pinned back in annoyance against her still cone-shaped head. Her hands are curled into fists and tucked up under her chin, while her somewhat-gangly little legs kick out at him. She’s red, and wrinkly, and unbelievably small. Overall, she looks like a tiny, angry, geriatric goblin.

And, excluding Tav, he thinks she might just be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

He’s been keeping a tight rein on his composure so far, but he’s completely unprepared for the rush of emotions that takes him out like a kick to the knees when, while brushing a finger across her palm, she wraps her tiny little hand around it, holding it like a lifeline, and he realizes all at once that everything is okay. Tav and the baby were both alive and healthy, no monsters from their past had jumped out of the shadows to steal them away, no capricious gods had turned their ire on them in revenge, his little family was safe and, unbelievably, happy, and all those things he’d spent months worrying over hadn’t happened.

The sound he makes as he bursts into tears could, most charitably, be called a whimper, and he has just enough presence of mind left over to hope that no one outside had heard, before his thoughts are muffled by Tav’s scent and the sound of her and their daughter’s dual heartbeats as Tav pulls him into her arms, carefully sandwiching the baby between them. He frees an arm to wrap around Tav, clutching her to him as tightly as he dares, stifling his tears in the crook of her neck, and finally, finally, let’s himself believe that this isn’t a dream. He wasn’t going to wake up to find himself trapped back in that tomb, there was no second shoe waiting to drop, no one was coming to take this from him, and the “everything life had to offer” he’d told Tav he’d wanted all those months ago wasn’t just a possibility, but a reality.

── ･✩*₊˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖₊*✩･ ──

The hours after that had slowly melted into a carefully controlled chaos. Shadowheart had eventually come back with sustenance for the both of them. Then, she’d led Tav through their daughter’s first feeding, which the girl had taken to with enthusiasm, if not decorum, her nonstop litany of soft, satisfied grunts leaving no doubt about whether she was enjoying her meal. He’d watched, enthralled, as her pointed little ears twitched with each swallow, like a newborn kitten. Once finished, she’d been passed off to him for burping, requiring very little encouragement on his part before his gentle pats had forced a sound out of her so loud it startled him.

“Now, I wonder who else I know that eats like that?”Tav had commented, prompting a laugh from Shadowheart.

He’d decided not to dignify that with a response.

Soon after, the high of adrenaline Tav was riding had started to run out. While she’d initially wanted everyone to meet the baby right then, Shadowheart had reminded her that they’d all still be at the campsite for another night, and insisted she get some rest. Tav had eventually relented, and Shadowheart and Jaheira had departed for their own tents, leaving he and Tav alone with their daughter to enjoy their first night together as a family of three.

As they lay together on the bed facing each other, their daughter splayed out between them emitting breathy little snores, he remembers something. “You know, darling, I didn’t want to bring it up earlier, considering we were all rather busy, but we never did decide on a name.”

“I… had been thinking on that, actually, and there was one I thought you might like. It seemed fitting,” she says.

He smiles, reaching over and tucking a bit of her hair behind her ear. “Not a namesake, I hope? Because you know if we name her after one of those weirdos outside, we’ll have to name her after all of them, and I don’t think she’d ever forgive us for giving her nine names.”

“No, not that,” she says, huffing out a laugh. “Though I… may have… run the idea past Shadowheart of ‘Jenevelle’ for a middle name. Considering the sound she made was one that I’m pretty sure only Scratch could hear, I think she was okay with it.”

He looks down at the sleeping child resting between them. “Well, I suppose if she isn’t going to be using it, we may as well have it, hm?” He says, running his finger softly over a tiny, curled fist. “What was it you’d had in mind for her first name, though?”

“It was one I actually ran across a long time ago, a character in a storybook my foster parents had given me when I was small. I’d forgotten all about it, but it came back to me earlier because of what Shadowheart said about today being the Spring Equinox and her being born under the first stars of the night,” she says, taking his hand in hers to fiddle with his fingers. She did that when she was having trouble describing something. She’d healed fairly well from the damage Orin and the tadpole had done to her brain, but she still struggled sometimes with finding the words for things, and she’d found that having that bit of tactile distraction helped her order her thoughts. “It’s an old Elven name. The meaning doesn’t translate exactly, the closest would probably be “little star,” though “new star” might be more accurate.” She pauses to gather her thoughts. “It used to be a word for something small and bright that brings light to darkness, like the first flowers in spring, or twilight stars, and it was sometimes used as a term for things that represented renewal, justice, and innocence.”

She soft smile she turns on him makes him melt. “I thought it was fitting, since now that she’s here, it’s kind of like all three of us are starting from scratch, you know? Renewal, justice, innocence. I want that for her. For us, too.”

“Well,” he says, clearing his throat of the tightness that had wormed its way in there, “I think we could all use a little more of that in our lives, considering… well, all of it.”

Between them, their daughter shifts in her sleep, peacefully oblivious to the conversation happening around her.

He turns his hand over to take Tav’s fidgeting fingers in his. “Now, don’t keep me in suspense, my love. What’s this magical storybook name you’ve pulled from the shadows in that mind of yours?”

── ･✩*₊˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖₊*✩･ ──

It takes another hour, which they spend watching their sleeping daughter as though she might disappear if they took their eyes off her, but eventually Tav loses the fight against her looming exhaustion and succumbs to sleep. He’s well on his way to joining her, when a thought occurs to him.

He slides out of the bed, then carefully, as if she were made of spun glass, he picks up his daughter, wrapping her in her blanket and cradling her to his chest, before stepping out of the little chapel and into the cool night air of their camp. It’s a lovely night, the quiet broken only by the sounds of crickets and occasional snores from the tents scattered around the clearing. The sky is painted with what feels like millions of stars.

He pauses a moment to take it all in. He hadn’t done that when they’d been camped here before, too focused on trying to make sure he lived another day to really appreciate it. But looking back, so many of the things he cherished now had found their start at this camp. This was where he’d first tried to bite Tav. It was also where she’d caught him and then let him do it anyway. It was where he’d started putting his nice, simple plan into action, before it would all fall apart because he’d tripped and fell into his own trap. It was where their ragtag group thrown together by circumstance had started to become friends, of all things, with nights spent around the campfire sharing food and wine and stories.

He meanders his way across camp, eyes scanning the river’s edge, watching the fireflies as they dance in the moonlight, until his gaze lands on his quarry. There, just on the bank, standing in the same spot he’d occupied throughout their initial time at this camp, was Withers, back turned to him as he stared out over the river. Taking a breath to steel himself, he settles his daughter more securely in his arms, and approaches the… skeleton. God? Being. The jury was still out on exactly what Withers was. Nothing normal, that was for sure.

He walks until he stands beside Withers, looking out across the water in silence while he tries to gather his thoughts.

After a few minutes, Withers eventually breaks the silence. “I expected thee,” he intones.

“You did?” That surprises him. He hadn’t expected to sneak up on the man, but he hadn’t exactly made an appointment either.

Withers gives a hum of confirmation. “Thou hast questions. Some yet may be answered.” He turns his cloudy gaze on Astarion. “Ask them, if thou whilt.”

He swallows thickly, mouth suddenly dry. “It’s not a question, really. Not exactly. It’s just… when Tav- When she di-” He cuts himself off as his voice breaks. He’d locked those memories in the back of his mind, determined never to revisit them, and unearthing them felt like watching it happen all over again. He looks down at his daughter, curled up against his chest, safe and content, and lets out a long sigh as he blinks back his tears. “When Tav killed Orin, and Bhaal… took back his blood from her. It only occurred to me a few tenday ago, and I don’t think Tav’s realized at all, but… but she was already pregnant then. And…”

He pauses in an attempt to stop his voice from shaking. “When you brought her back. You said that she’d created new life free from Bhaal’s influence. At the time, I thought you were just talking about Tav, but I think…” He finally looks Withers in the eye, tearing up as he whispers, “I think you knew. When you revived her. You brought them both back, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Withers answers. And, per usual, does not elaborate.

“How did you know? Tav didn’t even know,” he asks.

Withers says nothing for a moment, then, “I know every life. Those who are mortal, and those who are not. Those yet still living, and those who have passed from this world. Those who walk this plane, and those,” he nods toward the sleeping infant, “Who still await their turn. The child’s soul was known to me from her very inception.”

“And will she…” He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself for his next question. One he both needs to know the answer to and dreads to hear. “Is she a Bhaalspawn too? Can he control her?”

“No,” Withers replies, and Astarion’s knees go weak for a moment. He almost laughs in relief at the familiarity of the scratchy drawl coating that single word. “Bhaal’s influence was removed in its entirety. Both thy bosom companion and thy progeny are beyond his reach.”

He takes a minute to center himself and just enjoy the moment as his last worry is laid to rest. He lays a kiss on his daughter’s forehead, smoothing out the little wrinkle that’s formed there as she furrows her brow in her sleep, dreaming whatever it is babies dream of. He catches the scent of that new baby smell he’d been convinced Jaheira had been making up to mess with him, and brings her up to rest on his shoulder, his face turned to press into the bright, dandelion puff of her hair, allowing time to pass him by while he revels in the peace of the night.

After a while, he remembers the other reason he’d come out here. A much happier reason.

“There was something else,” he says, once again turning to Withers. “A request. For her. If you’d be willing.” His daughter stirs in his arms as he gestures to her, opening her eyes to peer sleepily at him.

“Indeed. What request wouldst thou make on behalf of thy progeny?” Withers asks, and Astarion thinks he hears curiosity coloring his tone.

“Well, there’s this rite that Halsin told us about, back when we’d first found out Tav was expecting. For when a baby is born into an Elven community,” he says, thoughts for once racing in a good way. “They’re supposed to be presented to an elder, or someone who’s done the parents a great service, and that person would welcome them and announce their name. Tav thought it was sweet, but she didn’t really feel strongly about it one way or the other, especially considering that neither of us had anyone who fit the role.”

He's finding it surprisingly hard to explain himself. He’s used to being able to gesture while he talks, but his hands are currently otherwise occupied.

“Anyway, um…” He swallows, mouth suddenly gone dry. “Given… recent revelations. I was hoping you might be amenable to doing it? Since you’re the reason she’s even here. The reason both of them are here.” He sighs, looking into his daughter’s blue eyes, watching him hazily. “Halsin said Elves hold onto the memory of that rite for their entire lives. I don’t… I don’t really remember my mortal life, not even in Reverie. Everything before I was turned is just a dark void. Tav only remembers bits and pieces of her life before the tadpole, and most of the time she wishes she didn’t. There’s nothing we can do about that now.”

A gust of wind causes him to tuck the blanket a little bit tighter around the baby. “But her… I want her to have that memory. I can’t give her a family history to be proud of, or pass down old traditions. I don’t know anything about Elven culture or the history of our people that I can share. I can’t do any of that for her. But, if nothing else, I can give her this.”

Withers’ face becomes contemplative. “Mortals are such… curious creatures.” He says, slowly. “Thou hast lamented thy lack of familial bonds, and yet, dost thou not have such in abundance in this very camp? Separate, all of thee were but single threads, plucked from thy individual fabrics, muted and fraying at thine ends. Without unity. But together, thou hast been woven into a tapestry anew, all the more pleasing for thy differences, and held firm by the bonds thou hast formed in each other.” He sees the corners of Withers’ mouth turns up in a faint smile. “Mourn not for what has been lost. Thy time is better spent enjoying what thou hast found.”

Withers steps closer to him now. “Throughout time, mortals have created many ways to welcome new souls. Some now ancient, and long forgotten. Others not yet come to be. To perform such a rite is a sacred duty, and an honor. And one that is within my power to grant.” Astarion swears he feels the faintest crackles of magic in the air as Withers holds out his hands. “So grant it I shall.”

Carefully, he places his daughter into Withers’ arms. The skeletal man holds her close, shifting her to the crook of his elbow as his other hand comes up to rest over her heart, boney palm splayed across her chest. She stares up at him, eyes wide, and grasps one of Withers’ fingers in her tiny fist. Withers’ next words are spoken directly to her, his voice almost seeming to echo, as if weaving a spell. “Child, thy journey to life has been fraught and perilous. Thou hast known the bitter taste of death and the chaos of battle before even thy first breath. And still, thou hast triumphed over this adversity, thy strength of spirit inextinguishable, and thy soul shines all the brighter for it. I wish thee many bright days ahead, and that thy will holds firm even in times of darkness. Let wisdom be thy guide in life, and thou may one day turn thy wheel of fate to thine own purposes.”

He sees the faintest glow of magic surround them, as Withers continues. “Now, we have met, and I know thy face.”

“Thy name has been recorded. I welcome thee to this life, Astraea.”

Next Chapter

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Welcome to Ask Professor Layton!

I hope your day or night is going well. Here, you can interact with esteemed archaeologist Professor Hershel Layton. He's always open to some company--especially such pleasant company as yours! Feel free to come in and enjoy a cup of tea.

Below is some helpful information to get you started here. If nothing else, do be mindful to read the rules section. A gentleman must always be careful to be considerate of others and stay out of trouble!

What is this? This is a character ask blog featuring Professor Hershel Layton (and company) from the Professor Layton puzzle game series for the Nint*ndo DS. In case you're new to the concept or simply need a refresher, "ask blogs" have been a popular genre of blog on Tumblr for quite a while, but were more popular some years ago. However, there are still plenty of them around today! The way they work is by combining art and roleplay in order to create a functional story as well as a relationship between the "asker" (the person interacting with the character via the ask box) and the "muse" (the character the blog is about). It's almost like a choose your own adventure comic or a visual novel, except you can speak and interact directly with the main character. Your actions may have a lasting effect on the story, something known as the butterfly 🦋 effect. Some ask blogs feature an overarching story while others do not. Each ask blog tends to have its own unique quirks and methods. There is no one correct way to run such a thing, which is part of the appeal.

How do I engage with this? You can interact with the Professor by sending in an ask via the ask box. Despite the name, your query does not have to be in the form of a question. Simply write what you wish to say (or do; actions are allowed and even encouraged) to him in your message. You will receive a response that may or may not include some art depending on the content of the ask. I will try to include art as often as possible. However, you can specifically request a response without included art if you simply want to engage in casual conversation with him. These asks will be under the tag #ProfessorChats. You will receive a much faster response to these.

This art is a bit… Odd. I'm afraid that I am a very unprofessional artist, ahaha! I've never been to any form of art school. Part of my motivation for starting this blog is that I've spent years attempting to improve my artistic skills, only to never be satisfied with where I was at any point. I suppose we're all our own worst critics. Recently, I've come to the conclusion that perhaps by combining something I'm deeply interested in and enjoy (such as Professor Layton and storytelling) with my artistic journey, it may kickstart significant improvement, sort of incentivising it to myself. But even if I don't improve all that much, or even at all, I know this is something I'll have had fun with and learned from. Hopefully others will too! At the end of the day, that's all that matters.

Is there an overarching story? Yes! I have many ideas that I'm eager to implement here. Buuut I'm not going to talk about it. You'll just have to find out by interacting with him and the world in which he resides. Go wild, get creative!

What are the rules? I'm so glad you asked! You can do just about anything you want with this dear middle aged man, with respect to these few basic rules

No content that violates the Tumblr guidelines.

No real-world political themes or references, especially US politics. His poor heart can't take it. Do not send asks inciting real-world violence, hatred, or political aggravation. In-universe political discussion is fine, given that it's fictional and relevant to him.

No racial, ethnic, religious, etc insensitivity or hatred. That is not very gentlemanly. Shoo! Away with you.

No explicitly sexual material. I don't mind suggestive jokes or themes, but explicit material is strictly prohibited. Suggestive themes will be tagged accordingly with #suggestive. Minors and individuals who are sensitive to these themes should block this tag. Absolutely no themes, references, or any form of content involving the romanticisation or sexualisation of minors is allowed here. Moreover, if you engage with these types of themes or actively consume such content, I urge you to seek professional help immediately. Please contact mental health professionals or a hospital in your area, or telephone your country's emergency services number if you're having explicit thoughts about minors. Do not contact me under any circumstances. Any asks violating this rule will be reported along with the account that sent them if applicable.

On that note, do not send in asks involving shipping Luke and Layton (or Luke/other minor characters with any adult character). You will be blocked and your asks will be deleted.

No content involving themes of incest, fetishes, or kink material is allowed here. Do not send asks involving the shipping of Layton with his brother or any other characters with their relatives/family.

Violent, injurious, and bloody asks are permitted to an extent. Heavy gore, severe body horror, explicit horror, and related themes are not allowed. No parasites. Egregiously offensive asks will be deleted. Violence and blood will be tagged accordingly with #tw blood and #tw violence.

Discussion of mental health topics is allowed, but if I suspect an asker is in danger or requires help, the ask will not be answered. You will be encouraged to seek help. Discussion of mental health themes and themes involving self injury will be tagged accordingly with #mental health themes, #tw suicide mention and #tw self injury mention. If an asker expresses intentions of harming themself or others, the message will be reported accordingly and will not be answered. If you are experiencing thoughts of severe depression, urges to harm yourself or others, or have intentions of doing so, please contact emergency services for your area. My heart is with you and so is the Professor's--we sincerely hope that you feel better soon.

All spoilers for the series are untagged so be wary if you're missing something. I don't do anything involving Layton's Mystery Journey/Katrielle or Layton Brothers Mystery Room so please don't send in asks involving the lore of those. I simply don't particularly care for them and I don't consider them canon to this blog.

Do not attempt to involve this blog in discourse.

Do not solicit this blog for money, art, etc.

Do not reupload art from this blog to any other websites, medias, etc.

Do not use the art featured on this blog in any form of ai training or other projects. Usage of the art on this blog for any purpose is strictly not permitted or consented to.

Asks determined to be in poor taste (such as attempts at forcing self injury, forcing sexual themes, certain forms of removal of personal autonomy, etc) will be ignored and deleted at the Admin's discretion.

I understand that your OC may be related to Layton or another canon character, but (with all due respect to your awesome characters) please do not attempt to interact as a relative, daughter, son, etc without at least discussing it with the Admin in personal messages first. Regarding the canon of this blog, the Professor does not have any biological children.

Fictionkin and individuals with alters who have the Professor Layton series as their source material are welcome (and encouraged!) to interact, but please do not attempt to correct my interpretation based on your own experience/memories. Please also do not involve the Professor, the Admin, or this blog in discourse involving these things. This blog is friendly to everyone who is friendly to it regardless of their opinions, beliefs, etc.

Any questions, clarifications, or requests regarding these rules should be directed to personal messages.

What can be done here? Anything that isn't mentioned in the outline above. Want to interact but not sure where to start? Try thinking of something silly or goofy that makes you happy and find a way to combine that with an interaction. Put him in an ugly sweater. Toss him into an aquarium. Turn him into a worm on a string. Ask him for help with your homework. Give him an unusual object. Expose him to psychological horror by putting him in a modern day Waffle House in the US. The rules, Tumblr guidelines, and your imagination are your only limitations. You can also try asking him about people he knows or has encountered during his adventures. Of course, what is the Professor Layton series without its colourful cast? Feel free to poke the others with a stick, so to speak!

Do you have an OC/self-insert/etc you want to be interacting with him? I'll try to doodle it in the reply if I include art, just be certain to include that in your ask!

Why hasn't my ask been answered? It can take a lot of time to answer asks depending on the art I may or may not do for it. Please be patient. I have very severe personal health problems and may be going through a particularly rough time which can make it take that much longer. Other reasons your ask may not have been answered is that I felt personally uncomfortable with the content of it or I just don't feel like answering that one at the time. It could also be that Tumblr simply ate the ask and as a result I didn't receive it in the first place.

can i give him a lil smooch Well, I recommend asking him first, of course. These sorts of feelings take time to build /hj

What are the posts with the tag butterfly🦋effect? That's a surprise tool that can help us later! /ref

What do I do if I need to get in contact with the Admin? The quickest way is to private message me on my main blog @harestrax Can we do a one-on-one roleplay? Maybe? I've never done that on Tumblr since I'm still kind of new here but I'd be open to the idea! Individuals over the age of 18 are welcome to personal message me and we can discuss what you have in mind. However, please do not contact me for sexually explicit interactions. I'm not personally comfortable with it.

Why is some art colourful and some isn't? i am sooooooo eepy i am so tired and eepy

Anything else? Thank you very much for your interest in this silly little project! Remember not to take any of it too seriously. Any opinions, actions, or thoughts expressed by the characters do not reflect the Admin's opinions. Everything on this blog is fictional and is for entertainment purposes only. Keep in mind that the villainous characters could potentially be more aggressive or rude and to not take what they say personally to heart. The Admin does not have any ill will against you and neither does the Professor. ❤️

This blog is not associated with Level 5 and is for personal entertainment only. No AI is used in my art or writing--ever!

Have a wonderful day/night! 🐇

[wisteriamusic]

killer stages hobbies

So, I think while a lot of hobbies are shared throughout the stages some of them are exclusive or only one or two do so.

Stage 1: Most of his paintings are of friends and other people never of himself. He's taken a lot to writing which can range from children's books, horror stories, mysteries, crime, romance, almost every genre under the sun. He also does enjoy cosplay and crossdressing. He decided to pick up clay sculpting making nice pottery he doesn't trust himself with knives. He also does poetry along with him writing fictional stories.

Stage 2: Their biggest hobby is wood carving most often of animals like bunnies and cats. Painting is of course another hobby they mainly draw landscapes, flora, and fauna. They enjoy sketching new clothes to make and wear. They like to make their own clothes and do a lot of embroidery adding more detail. They also enjoy acting quite a bit. They decided to learn how to sculpt marble for a harder challenge and just to try something new and enhance their already good skills now on a larger scale. They still indulge in science of course even if its not the typical one of most Sanses. Probably also picked up wood burning to make their own wood carvings more detailed and to add a new skill. They are quite good at board games and other games and is actually a major hobby a safer way to discover new things with npcs that don't concern actual people. Along the way I think they learned metal working and black smithing its not an as often hobby its mainly for making knives and other bladed weapons to replace any it uses and for good quality ones that's actually hard to find in the multiverse. They definitely enjoy exploration both of just nature but, also of new aus and people. Him and Ink will sometimes go people watching and without looking at the code or script try to guess their life and personality. They also enjoy gardening they are quite connected to nature. They enjoy reading not as much as Dust but it's a way to gain new information and pass the time.

Stage 3: Its painting are of a lot of death and destruction a funnel for their more destructive and angry emotions rather then other people. They also decided to start playing music it was something sans did and it's something they wanted to reclaim of themself. It also enjoys puzzles and can get sucked into it for hours.

Stage 4: Color was the one who pushed stage 4 to get a hobby of some kind. Any hobby was find as long as it gone one. Color mainly asked him to pick a hobby and left the room he wasn't far but he didn't want his facial expressions or body language make stage 4 pick something based off of what he thinks is good. Painting was the first hobby it picked up its a common hobby that all of the stages enjoyed so it decided that was the safe choice. Later it would pick up dancing specifically, ballet while it does enjoy other styles of dancing it prefers ballet even if it wouldn't say so. Its more often to be pushed to indulge in a hobby rather then just do it itself whenever. It does have some soft rules that allow it to do actions without explict orders that allow it to make choices. Most of its paintings are of chara, the player, horror inside its mind real psychological horror one of the only way it can express its emotion.

[artistsmellslikeunemployment]

Things that natla did do:

- Katara stealing a water pouch from a merchant shop at night

- zuko draws!

- include pieces from the books and comics (mother of faces, Kyoshi‘s personality,

- „water the most promising seed“

- Katara standing by and smirking as Sokka flounders trying to impress Suki but her not buying any of it

- Katara never letting anyone talk over her once diplomacy fails

- Bumi‘s armpit hair

- Zuko talking about Lu Ten

- Azula learning to use a blue flame and failing

- what can I say, the actors make the show very enjoyable 🤷🏼‍♀️

- Kuruk refusing to take possession over Aang‘s body/ Avatar state

- overall I think they drew info from the books about the other eras

- the sound of Iroh‘s firebending reminding of a dragon‘s growl

- Avatar Roku making fun of Avatar Kyoshi

- Zuko basically enthusing about Kyoshi‘s strength only to then get his ass kicked by her

- Suki (and mom) gushing over seeing their role model Kyoshi in action

- random woman with broom and Zuko letting her hit him

- Aang running away at the end, after the battle. He might not have run from his responsibility but he ran from the consequences

- „have you seen my flying bison?“ which is way better because even less believable

- Katara being bold enough to train her waterbending in the abandoned fire navy ship around Wolf Cove

- emphasis on Sokka‘s inventory skills and by elongation his bad ice dodging skills

- Zuko deciding to stay with/ look for Iroh instead of chasing Aang twice

- Lu Ten‘s theme playing every time Zuko and Iroh confess their love for each other

- Omashu‘s part of the earth kingdom being India coded

- Zuko so specifically being triggered by the word „compassion“ but not „empathy/ emphatic“ because he actually does believe in kindness and much like Azula is still trapped in the pressure of having to represent all his father believes

- Zuko looking disgusted all the time

- 41st division bowing to their prince

- I had fun watching it and most of it makes sense tbh.

What I don’t get (logic mistakes):

- Mai being too openly anti fire nation by saying she wouldn’t ever come back if given the chance

- Iroh finding the Blue Spirit‘s mask in Zuko‘s pile of clothes but maybe that’s not even a negative.

- no talk about the meaning of the necklace

- Gyatso Living in the Spirit World (doesn’t Aang have enough guides with all his previous lives?);

- that assassination attempt on Ozai and Azula infiltrating the plan? Was this meant to show Ozai‘s cruelty and Azula‘s strategic thinking??

- what was Bumi‘s point exactly?

- Yue being a spirit fox. Why? It added nothing.

- „i bet you taste like chicken“ no opossum chicken. just chicken.

- Kyoshi being the narrator

- Aang being able to communicate with his past lives only by visiting their shrines and not in the right order (usually the avatar has to contact every avatar before him in the order of their lifetimes before he can get through to the next)

- Aang being shamed and gaslight by everyone

- confusion over what happened to the villagers as well as Katara and Solla by mixing Hei Bai‘s and Ko‘s stories as well as the Fog of Lost Souls and creating a new loophole into the spirit world when people stand too close to Aang while he meditates? Also, Ko‘s „Magic“ with individuality and his reason for stealing faces when showing emotion is lost.

- with all due love, what was Suki‘s mother for?

- Wan Shi Tong randomly sitting at some wayside

- Why wouldn’t normal people understand Wan Shi Tong? How are they planning for Team Avatar to find out about the solar eclipse if not through Wan Shi Tong‘s library later?

- Iroh suspecting Ozai behind the apparent assassination of Zuko so openly in front of Zhao

- Iroh justifying his war crimes with „I was a soldier“??

- Iroh „sacrificing“ himself in Omashu when the earth kingdom forces were looking for the firebender even though they both would’ve gone undetected otherwise

- Iroh killing Zhao

- does Momo carry the spirits‘ life now?

- the fire nation inventing a solar system model to predict Zosin‘s Comet and potentially the eclipse as well