#I’m so sorry bastion

[bloomnova]

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Feeling you 2

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: this was planned as one shot, but the story doesn't let go of me. So as promised Part 2 is ready and there will be Part 3 coming soon if nothing extraordinary happens. You know me already - if there is not a healthy portion of angst it's probably not my story 😉

Warnings: angst, heartbreak

Word Count: 3,6 K

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius@hb8301@zillahvathek@alexagirlie@gemini-mama @verenahx@mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @willowbrookesblog

If you want to be added to the tag list - write to me.

Eanflaed's voice, both comforting and irritating, pierced through your consciousness, pulling you back to the dimly lit main room of the old alehouse. “You are dreaming again,” she said. Your friend busied herself at the counter, cluttered with empty ale mugs, and leaned forward on her elbows, waiting for you to wash and refill them.

“You need to put an end to this”, she insisted, striving to capture your attention, though she knew you were hardly in a state to listen. Persistent as always, Eanflaed never ceased trying. You knew she meant only good for you and she was right, and you loved her for that with all your heart. Eanflaed had always been the bastion of reason, a reliable friend in the gravest situations. Someone you deeply trusted.

“You realise he won't come back to you. We've all been through it. Falling in love with a client can’t have a happy ending,” she added, placing her hand on yours, compelling you to pause and meet her gaze.

“I know, and I’m not in love,” you mumbled, averting your eyes as a surge of warmth tinged your cheeks, “I just can't shake him from my mind. It's foolish, but I can't help it. Sometimes, I wish for them to return, and for him to simply overlook me, choosing another for the night. Then, at least, I'd be certain he's forgotten me. It would hurt, but I'd finally know it's over. I'd understand that there was never anything between us in the first place."

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" Eanflaed's voice softened. "When I asked you to hump him, I was just trying to help you get over it, to move forward. He seemed so sweet and somehow lost and I thought that maybe he could snap you out of this funk you've been in since that bastard... well, you know." Eanflaed's words halted abruptly under your stern gaze. "I'm sorry," she murmured, releasing your hand.

You finished filling the mugs, ale frothing at the brim, and Eanflaed quickly picked them up, heading back to the few guests at the tables. You let your palms glide over the rugged and worn surface of the old, cracked wooden counter, feeling its grooves and notches, the sensation under your fingers strangely calming. Noticing an ale splash, you grabbed a rag to clean it up. Keeping busy always helped you stay grounded, stopped your mind from wandering too much. It was a quiet evening. 

It had been half a year since you last saw Sihtric, but for some reason, you couldn't get him out of your head. You just couldn't shake off the memories - that soothing feeling of his warm body pressed against yours, his strong arms wrapped around your naked frame, holding you tight as if he was afraid you'd disappear if he let go, that gentle touch of his lips on your neck, the tickling sensation of his breath against your skin. But above all his big, expressive eyes, the look in them tinged with inexplicable sorrow mixed with youthful eagerness and goodness were etched in your memory. 

He had asked your permission to stay with you, even though he knew he didn’t have to, as Uhtred had paid for the whole night. He had carefully tucked the blanket around both of you, his legs entwining with yours, enveloping you in his presence and leaving no space between your bodies. You could still almost feel his fingers tracing a gentle path from your shoulder down to your palm, interlacing with yours as he whispered a soft “Thank you,” in your ear, and his steady heartbeat coupled with his even breathing had lulled you into a deep, dreamless sleep for the first time in two years. 

Morning had arrived with loud knocks and Uhtred's brusque voice demanding the horses be readied. Startled, Sihtric leapt from the bed, his cheeks colouring as he scrambled to dress, muttering under his breath while struggling with the stubborn laces of his breeches.

You had watched him from the bed's warmth, a strange lump forming in your throat. With each passing moment you realised that this was the end. The end of what? Your mind was harshly insistent there hadn’t been anything. You had humped the young and handsome  warrior. It was nothing special. It was what whores do for money. And you had been in this trade far too long to know it better.

Closing your eyes, you sank back into the pillow,  the last thing you wanted was to watch Sihtric hurry out of the room. You were certain he wouldn't look back. Why would he? But just as you braced for the definitive sound of the door closing, you felt a weight settle on the edge of the bed. Your eyes fluttered open just as Sihtric's lips hesitantly brushed your forehead. 

A shy smile played on his lips. “I have to leave now,” he said, and you couldn't discern if his voice held a hint of regret or sadness, or if it was just your imagination. “Can I… will I see you again, if we… when we return?” Sihtric's voice wavered slightly with his last words. Was it due to the uncertainty of his future, or a genuine desire to see you again? You tried to speak, but no words came out, choked by the lump in your throat. Instead, you just nodded and exhaled sharply as Sihtric's lips met yours in a brief, tender kiss.

You had so much you wanted to say – to wish him luck, to say how much you enjoyed the night with him, to tell him you'd be waiting. Thoughts swirled in your mind, but your voice failed you as you watched him walk towards the door, turning for one last, lingering glance before leaving.

And since then, you waited, though you weren't sure for what. What could you expect if he did return? “Nothing,” your mind whispered, while your heart screamed, “Everything!” Deep down, you knew it was a lost cause. He had probably forgotten you the moment he left town, or at least by the next alehouse with its array of young, charming girls. Yet, each time the doors of the old alehouse creaked open and men entered, your eyes involuntarily searched among them, your heart racing with hope.

"Sigefried's here again, asking for you to join him at their table. What should I tell him?" Eanflaed queried with a teasing grin, returning with a batch of empty mugs.

"Just say I can't," you replied tersely, bracing yourself against the counter with your hands and shooting a challenging look at your friend.

"He's a decent man, and he's taken a liking to you. His wife passed away last year," Eanflaed pressed on, oblivious to your brooding expression.

"That's precisely it. Barely a year since her death and he's already on the hunt for someone new," you retorted sharply, your voice laced with disdain.

"Hey, go easy on him. He's only human, not a saint. And in his defence, he's only had eyes for you. Never once has he chosen another girl here. I think his visits are just to see you," Eanflaed whispered, trying to persuade you. "I'm not suggesting you to hump him. Just be courteous and say hello."

"I'm really not feeling up to it today," you replied, turning away and glancing towards the back chamber behind the counter. "Ealfwin, could you take over? I need a break," you called to the young girl in the doorway, who was surveying the room. She nodded in acknowledgment. You left your apron on the counter, which Ealfwin picked up as you made your way to the door.

You shivered, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin as the cool evening air brushed against you, a stark contrast to the house's cosy warmth. Rubbing your upper arms to ward off the chill, you hesitated before stepping outside. Heading towards the stables just around the corner, you found comfort in the familiar scent of fresh straw and the soft sounds of horses snorting. Leaning against one of the stable poles, you took a deep breath, soaking in the tranquil hush of the approaching night.

The sound of the main door creaking open and footsteps drawing near reached your ears. Without turning, you knew who it was.

"Uh... erm... good evening. Sorry, I hope I'm not intruding," a deep, resonant voice broke the silence as you slowly turned to face the man now beside you, his figure casting a shadow in the light spilling from the alehouse. "I was wondering... about my offer... have you thought about it?" he asked, stepping closer.

You remained silent.

"I realise it might seem rushed, but as I've mentioned, I find you very appealing, and I'm in need of a wife to manage the household and care for the children. My estate isn't large, but it's sufficient for all my needs and more. With me, you wouldn't have to worry about anything ever again," Sigefried spoke with a measured, casual tone, but his words sent a shiver down your spine.

He had calmly and logically presented his proposal a week ago, urging you to consider it. And you had given it thought. The offer was undeniably tempting – a roof over your head, freedom from the worry about which meal you have to leave out today, or about your clothing slowly turning to tatters with no money to replace them. 

It wasn't about love or affection; it was a deal, pragmatic and sensible. It was a polite way of asking you to sell yourself, and the price he offered was more than fair for someone in your position. It was an escape to a different life, one you had often dreamt of – a life filled with esteem and reasonable wealth, a life where you would be attending church on Sundays instead of scrubbing mugs in an alehouse. Yet, in this new life, under the guise of a wife's respectability, you would still be selling your body, just as before. You would still be a whore, only with a different title, and that until your dying day.

Tears began to well up in your eyes as you leaned your head against the pole, closing them. A gentle breeze played through your loose hair, and you felt your fingers tremble as you adjusted your dress, bracing yourself to the cruel truth that there was no other life for you, you were trapped in your own dreams and the cold misery of this world and there was no escape for you. 

"I... I've thought about it," you stammered, your breath quickening with each word. Sigefried reached out, taking your hand in his and gently lifting it to his lips. The confidence in his gaze made you swallow hard. He understood the appeal of his offer, assured in its allure. There was no malice in his eyes, only lust mingled with cold calculation – and that was the final push in your decision, one that had been resolute from the start. You knew this was a choice you might regret.

You parted your lips to speak, but before a word could escape, Sigefried's lips pressed forcefully against yours, eliciting a surprised gasp. You remained immobile, spellbound, as Sigefried's greedy lips moved over yours. Shock rendered you unable to respond, while a growing sense of disgust churned in your stomach, absorbing all your other senses so that you even failed to notice the figure of a young man, halted in his steps, clutching a bunch of flowers, his gaze fixed intently on you and Sigefried.

—-------------------------------------

Sihtric stood motionless, unable to avert his gaze from you and the man who had just proposed to you, now kissing you with such intensity. Time seemed to slow down as he observed you both, completely absorbed in each other, oblivious to the world around. With a concerted effort, he finally managed to look away. His eyes fell to the flowers he clutched, and a wave of heat rushed to his cheeks, flooding him with embarrassment.  Flowers. He couldn't help but think how silly it was to come here with flowers.

His hand opened, letting them slip through his fingers and tumble to the ground, while his eyes followed their swirl in the air before landing in the dirt. An urgent need to escape washed over him, to flee before the overwhelming heaviness in his chest became too much to bear. Stepping over the now-crushed blossoms, Sihtric silently turned and continued his way, each step feeling heavier than the last. Reaching the door, he paused, inhaling deeply to steady his rapid heartbeat, then pushed it open, alehouse's raucous laughter and loud voices hitting him as he entered.

Uhtred and Finan, sitting at a table at the room's far end, were easily spotted, their laughter ringing out.

"Look who's here! Our lovesick warrior," Finan greeted with a teasing smirk as Sihtric approached. "Tell us, Sihtric, did you finally confess your undying love to the alehouse beauty?"

Uhtred placed a cautious hand on Finan’s shoulder, his eyes noting the miserable, lost expression on Sihtric’s face, his cheeks flushing and fists clenching, as he slumped onto the bench, burying his face in his hands.

"I need a drink," came Sihtric's hoarse voice. He reached for the ale mug Uhtred slid towards him. "And... and I need a woman," he added, setting the now-empty mug back on the table with a thud after a couple of hearty gulps. 

Finan's face shifted from amusement to concern as he shared a worried glance with Uhtred.

"What's up? Did you see her?" Finan asked, his tone now serious.

Sihtric tried to speak, but words escaped him as the image of you and Sigefried locked in that intense kiss replayed in his mind again and again, each time like a fresh wound to his heart. He was not angry at you; he was angry at himself for being unable to forget you, to move on from you. 

He had made every effort. He had tried to erase the memory of your deep, sorrowful, yet captivating eyes, and had sought to quell his yearning for your soft, tender touch in the embrace of other women. But nothing had worked. Something about you had ensnared him from the very first moment your eyes met. There had been something so familiar yet intangible in the way you spoke to him, the way you touched him, that lingered in his memory, impossible to shake off and forget. 

He had felt safe with you and he had felt loved. Yes, loved – he had felt a genuine care and acceptance of who he was, emanating from you, a feeling he thought long forgotten and buried together with the only person who he knew had truly cared for and loved him.

He understood that he had no right to expect anything from you, but deep down, he had hoped that unique bond he had sensed – that understanding and shared feeling of each other’s unspoken pain and sorrow  – wasn't just a delusion conjured by his imagination. He longed for it to be real, mutual. This feeling had ignited a relentless flame within him, driving him forward, guiding him in the battle, consuming his thoughts and breathing new life in him. He had never experienced that feeling again, regardless of how young, beautiful, or eager to please the other girls were. This flame had driven him to return to you, it had carried him, made him fight like a madman, spurned him and given him wings to fly. 

Yet he had arrived too late. And even if he hadn't, what could he possibly offer you? How could he rival the proposal he had just overheard? You deserved the security and prosperity that the other man was offering, and he would rather cut his own hand than attempt to deprive you of it, even if it meant leaving his heart bleeding. 

"I'm such a fool," Sihtric finally managed to utter, his hand tightening around the ale mug.

"Hey, that's how it goes sometimes, lad. We tried to warn you, but you wouldn't hear it. She's an alehouse girl, Sihtric. You couldn't have seriously expected her to wait for you for half a year," Uhtred said, placing a comforting hand on his younger friend’s shoulder. 

"Thank goodness there's no shortage of beautiful women around," Finan chuckled, his smile broadening as he watched a group of giggling girls emerge from the back room, making their way to the guests. 

It was that time again and the room was full of freshly arrived warriors, signalling a potentially profitable night. 

—------------------------------------------

Your heart pounded like thunderous drum beats in your ears as you flung open the doors, bursting into the alehouse's now noisy main room.You had been away for no more than half an hour and within this short time the quiet and drowsy alehouse had morphed into a bustling hive, filled with energy and noise. 

Your hands trembled, the vivid memory of the recent moments still fresh in your mind. You had slapped Sigefried with all your might, pushed him away in revulsion, and fled. The image of his stunned, confused expression lingered in your mind – his hands reaching out to you, his voice calling your name, offering apologies. But you didn't look back; you just ran, driven by an overwhelming need to return to the safety of the alehouse, to escape his grasp, to avoid his presence. 

Your gaze swept quickly over the buzzing main room as you made your way to the counter, trying to dodge Eanflaed's sharp glare.

"What took you so long? Where have you been? We're swamped with guests. Uhtred and his men are back, can't you see? I need you here," Eanflaed's words washed over you forcefully. Your heart seemed to leap into your throat as you spun around, scanning the crowded room. Then, you saw him.

There he was, seated at the far end, his laughter cutting through the din and loud chatter, his arm comfortably draped around the waist of a girl you instantly recognised  as Ealfwin, nestled in his lap and whispering something in his ear. Your hands clutched the counter, a desperate anchor as your knees weakened.

Try as you might, you couldn't tear your eyes away. They were fixed on that familiar, handsome face, those broad shoulders, and muscular arms highlighted by his sleeveless armour, pulled in by the sound of his infectious laughter echoing through the room. 

He had changed. That insecure, shy, hunched over and sad-eyed boy, who once tried to stay hidden and mask his true strength, was gone. In his place sat a formidable warrior, exuding confidence and self-assurance, adorned with golden rings on his fingers and armbands around his wrists. 

A soft gasp slipped from your lips as you took in the sight of him, completely unaware of your presence, entirely focused on the girl in his embrace. He cupped her chin with his fingers and drew her into a fervent kiss. Ealfwin giggled, playfully withdrawing from his lips, her fingers tantalisingly trailing down his arm, while her other hand playfully tousled his hair. Sihtric chuckled again, pushed his ale mug aside, and stood up, effortlessly lifting Ealfwin onto his shoulder, making her laugh and wiggle with her feet, as he made his way towards the stairs that led to the upper chambers.

In that brief moment, as he passed by, your eyes locked with his. You felt rooted to the spot, mesmerised by those deep eyes casually glancing at you, flickering with a playful spark, yet showing no sign of recognition.

“Where’s the ale?” a gruff voice from a nearby table cut through the air, as Eanflaed nudged you sharply with her elbow.

“Snap out of it,” she whispered urgently, “Now you know…,” she trailed off, but you were no longer listening. Gasping, you spun around and hurried towards the door. You barely managed to stumble down the few steps as you felt your guts revolting and overcome by the nausea you bent over to vomit the scant contents of your stomach. Time blurred as you stood there, cold sweat beading on your forehead, your body convulsively heaving.

Feeling hands gently gathering your dishevelled hair and steadying your trembling shoulders, you realised it was Eanflaed, preventing you from collapsing to the ground.

"Come on, sweetheart, I'm so sorry," Eanflaed's soft, familiar voice grounded you. You grasped her arms, looking up into her eyes filled with compassion, your own tearful gaze brimming with gratitude as you realised your friend had simply left her bustling alehouse and its demanding guests to be by your side. Eanflaed wrapped her arms around your shoulders, holding you firmly with a strength one would never suspect from her delicate frame, as she gently guided you to sit down on the steps, settling next to you.

“You deserve so much better,” she said, her smile tinged with sadness as she tenderly tucked your dishevelled hair behind your ear. “You're too sweet and kind for this harsh world.”

"Sigefried proposed to me tonight," you managed between sobs, "And I rejected him. I slapped him when he tried to kiss me. I just couldn't stand his touch, or the thought of anyone else touching me.”

“Oh, heavens. It just keeps getting more complicated,” Eanflaed sighed. “You need to rest and get through this night. Things always seem clearer in the morning. Come, I'll get a bed ready for you. And no, you're not going home alone in this state,” she stated firmly, cutting off any weak protest you might have had. In truth, you didn’t have the strength to argue. Nodding in agreement, you allowed Eanflaed to help you to your feet and guide you gently back inside.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

[sprout-fics]

❝  you need someone right now.  and i’m the one that’s here.  let me be what you need.  ❞ (with Best Boy Gaz pls🙏🏻)

“It’s just so stupid.” You say for the third time into his shoulder, feeling his hand trail across your back in comforting grazes. “I should have been paying attention.”

It’s true. You should have seen it. Your partner’s strange withdrawal from you, citing work, a new hobby, being guarded with their phone. They’d come back at odd hours, started getting snappish at you, blaming you for things that weren’t your fault. 

Yet you didn’t realize what it was until you found them with another woman in your bed.

“It’s not your fault.” He reminds you for the third time, voice a soothing murmur. Sad, a little weary, sympathetic all the same. “You did nothing wrong.”

You sniffle, can’t help but feel sorry for yourself in the wake of the mess that followed. You’d screamed, ordered them out of your apartment, had tossed your partner’s belongings into the front yard in a fit of unbridled rage, cried when they dared try to blame you, told them to never speak to you again-

And then you called Gaz.

Now, your oldest dearest friend sits beside you in the messy living room, tucking you against his side in the silence. You’re close enough to feel the soft rise of his chest, the slow and steady escape of his exhales. The bitter hurt of the betrayal is soothed by his reassuring presence, and you selfishly cling to it. 

“Come off it, I know you still have feelings for him.” Your partner had snarled before you slammed the door in their face. The truth of it withers in your soul, digs deep into a place where something aches hard enough to make you breathe an unsteady sigh.

Yet here you are, doing the exact thing they said you would, looking for comfort in the man you couldn’t have. 

You wait a few minutes longer, relish the warmth of his form tucked beside you, close your eyes and think maybe, maybe you could have had this long ago. The scent of him washes over your senses. Warm cocoa butter, cologne, a distant taste of gun metal. You want to kiss it off him, taste it on his skin, pour your heartache into him because you know he’ll take it with open arms.

Eventually you push off him, feel his arm slip from your shoulders and confusion color his brown stare. When you swallow, your throat feels thick with emotion and tears.

“Thank you.” You try, a little awkwardly. “I appreciate you coming over. I…should probably clean up.”

Gaz offers you a nervous little smile, the corners of his lips upticking. “What, you trying to get rid of me so soon?”

You open your mouth to reply, close it, brow furrowing as your lips press into a line. Your silence speaks volumes.

There’s a particular expression that flickers across Gaz’s face. Surprise, concern, a flash of hurt. At last it settles into a severe resolve, a little sorrowful in a way that makes your heart melt.

“You need someone right now.” He whispers, and raises a hand so it cups the side of your face, still damp with tears. “-and i’m the one that’s here. Let me be what you need.”

You sniffle again as he stares at you, waits for your response, feel your heart clench at the thought of his absence. Fresh warmth floods your eyes, threatens to wash your face warm. His thumb smears the corner of your liquid stare, draws wetness from your gaze. 

You nod, just once, face scrunching as you begin to cry anew. Gaz hushes you, drags you to him, presses you into his chest. His arms cradle you there as your fists bunch his shirt, tears staining the fabric. 

“You’re alright.” He soothes, tucking his chin atop your head and keeping you safe in his arms, a bastion of comfort amidst the storm. “It’s going to be alright.”

“Stay.” You gasp quietly, lost in the scent of him. “Please.”

He sighs, and it sounds like relief.

“Always.”

[yuesya]

Mechamaru is a sad character, even though his anger at Shiki, to me, is honestly misplaced and more like self-loathing, envy, and commiseration.

It’s honestly sad what happens to Mechamaru because he did get the short end of the stick when it comes to Heavenly Restriction, didn’t he? He only wanted to have a healthy body, and in canon, he got it.

But what did it cost, really?

Because in the end, Mechamaru did in some way betray the jujutsu sorcerers. He can tell himself that he was desperate and he had the right to try and better his life when no one else cared to or was able to help him. He was in a shitty situation and tried fixing it first chance that presented it, but it doesn’t erase the fact that he betrayed his comrades. He indirectly (?)aided in the tragedy that happened by facitilating information to the curses, which HELPED Kenjaku’s plans, and he died for it. Here, he’s alive to suffer the consequences of ill-fated choices.

He wasn’t wrong to want it. He’s wrong because ultimately, his actions were an act of betrayal.

He feels remorse for his betrayal. He feels guilty. He feels angry at Shiki, because his gamble failed and here she stood as a shining bastion of a “perfect” life.

Though as seen in here, Shiki probably doesn’t give a single fuck about Mechamaru’s feelings. Only that his betrayal put the jujutsu society - and in turn, her family and friends - in jeopardy and that it went against the rules that Shiki was following ONLY because her family and friends wanted her too. Her moral and logic is pretty skewed, after all. Her first reaction to him being turned into a monster is to render him immobile VIA limbs breaking which honestly is NOT the first thing people do, but it’s admittedly in a twisted way the most optimal way to subdue transfigurated!Mechamaru.

TBH wrong is wrong. Betrayal is betrayal. Mechamaru isn’t an innocent victim who tried saving himself. How many more people would die and did die in the jujutsu world because he aided the curses? How many people died in Liyue because here the curses tried getting rid of Shiki?

Which brings me to another point: Whether it was voluntary or not, because of his betrayal which fed the curses informations and had Shiki hunting after them, Mechamaru ended up as a tool in the ambush against Shiki. Mahito tried using him as a shield, but unfortunately for him and the curses, Shiki’s reasoning is far too settled in pragmatic reasoning and logic to a certain point, after which she settled into brute force or death. She wouldn’t sacrifice herself for just Mechamaru, after all, nor be squirmish about breaking some limbs or killing some people.

Kinda shameless to be angry at the girl who you involuntarily aided in ambushing, no?

It’s just. The first time I read the short about Mechamaru (which was STILL amazing btw) I felt sorry for him.

The next few times I reread it though, I was like wait a minute, this doesn’t sound right, this guy is making Shiki to be the bad guy in interrogating him when he “just tried helping himself and he didn’t truly mean to betray the jujutsu society qwq!!!” because she has a perfect life but BITCH so many people just died LMFAOO Shiki here just doing her job and being hated, my poor girl (though she doesn’t care).

Mechamaru lost his gamble in using Mahito and turned into an even worse monster.

Likewise, the curses lost their gamble in trying to delete Shiki and were all basically wiped out in minutes lmao. They probably didn’t expect the Gojo Satoru Expy to actually be a Gojo Satoru 2.0 lol.

Shiki just doing her job, stuck in another world. :( And she had promised her cousin to make a detour to buy sweets, too rip. :(

(which brings me to another point i’m not gonna expand: Satoru and Shiki’s relationship? I LOVELOVELOVE IT!! The opposing powers they present! Satoru is not truly the sole “honored one”! Satoru has someone who somewhat understands the way he looks at the world! Who will stand by his decision and trust! Who’s willing to murder a bitch or a few for him! They’re two peas in a pod, sometimes HE has to be the moral compass for Shiki even! HIM! THE Gojo Satoru! A moral compass!!! 😂😂😂)

!! I am bouncing a bit in excitement from this haha.

Mechamaru! Is a very very unfortunate character. His attempt to outsmart Kenjaku and the Special Grade curses was not something that ended well for anyone. The information that he provided them allowed Kenjaku's faction to set up the test run at the Goodwill Event and break into the warehouse, stealing the Death Paintings and Sukuna's fingers. If we think about what happened in Shibuya, where Sukuna was able to cause as much devastation as he did because of ingesting the additional fingers... arguably Mechamaru played a definite role in allowing this situation to occur in the first place.

Mechamaru wants to be healed. He wants to have a normal body, and be a normal student of Kyoto High with his friends.

In exchange, he betrays the school -but he's not really betraying them, Mechamaru tells himself. Look, he's even been careful enough to extract a binding vow for his friends to be unharmed. And it's not as if he really intends to throw in his lot with Geto. As soon as he gets what he wants, he'll turn on them. Mechamaru doesn't need to kill them in order to win; all he needs to do is escape and find sanctuary with Gojo Satoru. And with the intel that he'll have in his hands, Gojo will definitely protect him. Then, they'll be able to counter their enemies properly from there-

We all know how that turns out in the end, though. The many casualties that result from Kenjaku's plans... Mechamaru might not be responsible, but he's certainly not blameless in allowing Kenjaku to set things into motion.

Mechamaru strikes me as a character who has a strong confidence and ego, which is balanced at the same time by a helpless sense of inferiority and anger. He knows that he's a powerful sorcerer, and he's the only sorcerer whose range covers an entire country -not even Gojo Satoru can do that! And Mechamaru is observant, and intelligent. He hates the limitations imposed upon him by his body, and he wants ever so badly to see for himself the world that he can only interact with through his puppets-

Shiki gets the brunt of that, in this particular AU.

Mechamaru lives. He lives, but he's angry and guilty and oh how he regrets, without truly regretting. Sorcerers are selfish creatures, and Mechamaru is no different.

Here Gojo Shiki stands in front of him, beautiful and powerful and perfect, looking down on him like Mechamaru means absolutely nothing. Given the turmoil that Mechamaru is currently experiencing... it's only natural that he lashes out at her.

(It's no excuse. But it is a reason.)

In contrast to Mechamaru's complicated feelings towards her, Shiki is fairly indifferent about him in return, despite his role as a lure in the 'ambush' for her. She simply protects him because she was assigned to retrieve Mechamaru for an interrogation. Shiki can't retrieve him if he's dead.

... So that just means she'll need to do her best to keep him alive, until she manages to find a way home.

[vibratingskull]

For a dance with you

“A first kiss? With reader. Like in a semi public place! Like an empire week evening, a boring one.”

Here you go my friend @blackmonitor !

Its a Thrawn x f!reader

No beta reader involved, sorry for any typo

You sigh deeply…

You’re bored to death.

All those balls and soiree blurred and look the same to you. But as an admiral it is your duty to appear at those evenement and represent the Marine. It’s just… It’s always the same. The same face. The same dances. The same orchestra. The same low bows and subterfuges. 

You massage your neck, easing your muscles, taking a deep breath. You look at the crowd in front of you. How many of them did you see yesterday and will see tomorrow? Too much. 

“Are you okay,  Admiral (y/l/n)?”

Your attention goes back to the small group of dignitaries you were talking to. Their conversation isn’t that reinvigorating, no wonder you dozed off.

“Yes… I will just go grab another drink.” You say, serving them the first excuse that comes to your mind and dump them.

You grab another glass, and as you walk aimlessly you see a large window opening on a balcony. You’re dying for some fresh air.

Thankfully there is nobody else on this balcony. You come leaning against the guardrail, appreciating the wind in your hair.

“Can I join you ?” A voice you would recognize among thousands raises behind your back.

You turn your head, to see the man of your dreams at the window frame. He too seems bored to death.

“You may.” You smile politely, trying to control the quaver of your voice. “You too need some fresh air?”

“I need a bastion to retreat and rethink a new strategy.” He explains, placing himself next to you, sighing “I don’t maneuver well in politics… It’s an aspect I will never grasp.”

You almost nudge him, but refrain before actually touching him.

“Don’t say that! You will manage one day, I’m sure.”

“Thank you for your words of encouragement, but I do not share your vision. It is as such, I have accepted it.”

Your arms almost touch, grazing each other, you feel your face heating up like hell.

“You came with someone?” you ask nonchalantly, but secretly afraid of the answer.

Please no date! Please no date! You pray internally

“I came here with Colonel Yularen, he wanted me to meet some people.” He responds unfazed, clearly unaware of your internal turmoil.

Gosh, the effect this man has on you is unreal. You discreetly wipe your sweaty palms, feeling the tension rise as he stays longer next to you. You try to play cool, but you feel painfully obvious. You chuckle nervously, earning you a side look and an inquisitive raised eyebrow. Relax Y/n, relax! He’s just some guy, some random man. RELAX!

But he’s not just a random man, not to you. First of all, because he’s your direct superior, that counts for something, and because he literally haunts you… Your mind, your dream, your work environment, everything oozes his presence and plague your daily life. Which is both a curse and a benediction.

“And you?” He finally ask.

“Hmm?” Wandering in your head, you’ve lost track of the conversation.

“What would be your ideal partner for such a soiree?” 

“Oh,well…” You think for a second, who will be your ideal partner? 

You. 

But you can’t answer that. So you answer what’s most accurate.

“My lover, I would say. I’m a romantic at heart.” 

You discreetly observe his reaction but he just nods, looking at his wine swirling in his glass. 

At least he didn’t laugh.

“And you?” You ask to deflect the feeling of shame of such a confession.

“My ideal partner…” His hand went to his chin, his gaze fixated on the forest in front of him. “Let’s see… Someone special. Someone unique to me. Yes… A lover is a good choice…” 

Your eyes widen, you both agree to something. His wine must be strong for him to open up in such a manner. But there is still one crucial question.

“Do… Do you have someone in mind?” You hold your breath.

“I do.” 

You recoil on yourself. 

With only two words he stabbed your heart and murdered you. You gulp, feeling tears behind your eyes. It’s life (y/n), accept it.

“I wish you could have enjoyed this soiree with the person of your choice and not just imagined it, sir.” You say swallowing your tears, breathing through your nose.

“But I do not have to imagine anything.” He whispers.

His hand slides across the guardrail and grazes yours ever so slightly. 

You blink.

What ?

He seizes your hand, turning fully towards you. You remain mute, not fully comprehending what’s happening right now.

“(y/n)...”

Your eyes lock. You’re enthralled by those glowing fire orbs, sparkling with a mischievous, almost childish gleam, contrasting with his stern and serious demeanor. Is it… hope that I see? He caresses your cheek and tucks a strand of hair behind your ears. 

“(y/n)...” He repeats, even lower

“Y-yes?” You stutter, too dumbfounded by what’s happening to function properly.

He tilts your chin, slowly leaning towards you. 

“Don’t refuse me, please…”

That wouldn't even cross your mind. You feel his breath on your lips and close your eyes, incredulous.

He leaves a single, soft, sweet, tender kiss and you savor it like it’s your last.

But deep down, you know.

There are many more to come!

@Bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar

@thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics

[fancifulplaguerat]

ough okay I want to talk about Daniil’s motivations because it is so very fascinating to me, and I think he’s honestly the most hopeful character of the three despite being so him all the time

Granted it seems left to the player (at least in Patho Classic) whether Daniil is afraid of death. When Peter accuses him of being afraid of it in Daniil’s route, he can either say “Well, no I don’t [fear death], but go on...” or “And you don’t?” Yet given how he behaves absent of the player’s control and in The Marble Nest, I don’t really think Daniil is afraid of death beyond what is kind of unavoidable but virtue of being a mortal human being. And speaking of I really do think Daniil’s character is the most painfully human in a lot of ways, especially his hopefulness/tendency towards grand ideals  

For instance, Daniil claims that he wants to “defeat death,” and yet is openly skeptical and even scornful towards Georgiy’s claims that Simon has never been ill/wounded/etc., saying “I do not doubt that your brother could fight death like no other, but there was not and could not be an immortal man!” and that Daniil uses his infamous “fighting death” phrasing makes me think he’s more focused on extending human life more than anything, which he alludes to when speaking to Lara on Day 6: “it's entirely possible that my victory award would be a discovery that'll prolong human life from 60-70 years to a hundred.”

This interests me because it seems Daniil does have plausible, achievable goals, but he also constantly talks about defeating/fighting/destroying death utterly, and his attitude towards the Polyhedron suggests that he has is drawn towards idealism and has a tendency towards lofty goals, which I think derive from his intense sense of hope, responsibility, and belief in his own abilities.

That is, in the Marble Nest (which is my absolute favorite characterization of Daniil) I get the sense that Daniil has an extremely strong locus of control, and so sees almost everything that goes on around him as his responsibility. In MN he repeatedly tells Aspity that he can still fix it, and says to death itself “It’s all right. It’s all right. There is still a chance to fix everything,” lines which are absolutely heartbreaking to me because we know he’s straight up dying, and yet he’s still fighting and fighting.

And not only is the theme of fighting extremely prevalent in Daniil’s characterization, but he is the character that has numerous dialogue options to insist that people keep hope. For instance, he can say “there’s always hope” to Georgiy, and “hope lives forever” to Eva. And in Clara’s route, Eva tells Clara that Daniil “says we have to fight... To hope for the impossible until the very end.” AFHFKJKK !!!! IM WRETCHING. And the fact that Daniil is labeled as a fighter/destroyer in my mind makes him a model of human perseverance, and gives him an intense drive not to give in.

ALSO. “It allows us a hope of possibility that some false-truths of our ill-fated epoch might be overthrown. It is a delicate fortress that holds veritable proof that however well-established our notions of possibility are, they still fail to account for what may or may not exist. This is the bastion I am willing to fight for.” I think these lines when Daniil chooses to save the Polyhedron reveal so much about his character, especially regarding his fierce pushback against taking things as they are, and instead believing in possibility (hope). And I feel that’s crucial for Daniil’s character—challenging what’s possible.

Plus for all Daniil’s snake bitch from the Capital moments he does really seem like he wants to help people, especially in Artemy’s route/The Marble Nest. He even says “I’m sorry if I came across as condescending. I only want to help. Remember how you helped me when I was running circles in the dark?” and no this does no absolve him from his bastardry, but this combined with his actions shows to me that he really does want to do good, a theme especially present in the Marble Nest as he’s trying so hard to help everyone, and even intends to shoot himself when he gets in the presence of the two carriers; like he’s willing to end it all to protect other people. There’s even a part where he talks about needing to protect the people he said he would (I think in Clara’s route?).

He just. he does care, and he tries hard to do the right thing; when Artemy asks him who he can look in the face on Day 12, and Daniil can say “I don’t know... I did everything I could" god it makes me want to lie down and bang my fists on the floor

All that to say I really don’t think he’s motivated by a fear of death. I think he has some fear of it, given that he drinks himself absolutely silly when he thinks the Inquisitor will kill him, but I don’t think that’s what motivates him. I imagine instead that Daniil is an intense idealist who really wants to help others and believes that if he fights hard enough he can do it, no matter the circumstances around him, which can lead him towards utopianism and lofty ideals that just aren’t possible.

Okay that’s the end of my ability to articulate coherently I’m going to just start screaming now

[gregoftom]

oh absolutely, i’ve unfortunately gotten a look up close and personal on the twitter space and like, i do not have the time of day to block that many people. reddit was a disappointment i should’ve expected, i really finished the show and thought time to check out some fun post series discussion and fan theories, only to see it was a cannibalistic black hole of hatred and horrible takes. let me tell you to realize your favorite character who has brought you great comfort over these past four seasons is actually despised by a loud portion of the audience when he’s hardly even the most morally bankrupt character on a show where the point is no one is a good person is certainly an.. interesting experience. i’ve found fanfiction to be the only safe space in that regard really, and links to posts on tumblr in some of them and riffling through those are how i found your blog. if you have some recs i’d appreciate that! i’m much more of a lurker and don’t really blog myself anymore but i do enjoy browsing and seeing that the fandom isn’t completely devoid of reasonable people ❤️

exactly! i’m sorry again that like, your first experience going into the fandom is so horrific and yeah sadly tumblr is the only bastion that is somewhat reasonable, lol, at least compared to other platforms. all i can say is don’t worry because a few people relate, including me like, can’t really think of another hivemind hatred of a character that has happened this badly before to the point of making ppl genuinely adverse to the fandom [obviously i could be wrong i've not seen every fandom ever lol but] apart from maybe mulder from x files? but it’s the same shit really. it suddenly started cropping up, even though he was originally a fandom favourite. i could go into more detail but the point is, you’re not alone but i am sorry and there are some greglovers around!

oh yeah fanfic is a good safe haven for that kind of thing, and a few blogs. okay let me see now, i might miss some ppl out bc there are actually quite a few i know of that are sweet ppl who like/love greg and tomgreg, but i would also hope that ppl who see this post and love tomgreg/greg would please like it/reply so that anon can follow your stuff? would be great! okay.

@gemsofthegalaxy , @racheldowneyjrr , @gregwambsganss , @fantasticskystuff , @jana-ebb , @keinbutterdieb , @purplemotif , @watchfuldeer , @100dabbo , @rebvilla , @waystartoo , @succcesssion , @trwinsome , @dogmotifgreg , @jezter911 , @laysidel-dekie , @sirnortsalot , @duelsong , @lanrre , @tommywambs , @daydreamingleaf , @mushroomheadgirl , @gregkinz , @wambs , @twinge-of-cosmicangst , @swaystar .... andddd i think that's everybody i can think of, but as i said if anyone wants to sound off to announce themselves too please do so!

good luck to you anon and welcome <3

[cheesecakeluvrs]

Rogue and Gambits relationship in the original is just an endless cycle

In the original Rogue and Gambit got jealous over the other’s relationships, like with Bella Donna and Cody but Rogue and Erik are a little different. Remy and Rogue always found their way back to each other, they never started an official relationship but after they leave their sort of partner there is always a romantic tension with them whether it be them touching each other while walking away or just comforting each other

To Rogue this endless just always finding your way back to Remy but still not being able to be with him was just getting too old. As much as they would both love a relationship to Rogue she doesn’t believe that they are capable of being in one. That scene before that dance with Remy was her finally cutting things off with him because they can’t just be doing the same things, they can’t go on forever doing this but never being in a relationship

To Remy as much as his actions could be interpreted as “waiting for her” they don’t know and honestly do not believe that she will be able to touch anybody so his only option to be with the love is his life is desperately try to convince her that you don’t need intimacy. I feel like with the scenes of them leading up to episode 5 it is Remy realizing that this may be different from Cody. Erik most likely will not turn into a bug alien and Rogue will not come flying back to him. We know for sure that Rogue and Gambit would most definitely start a relationship if Rogue learned to control her powers but from Remy’s point of view that is never. He knows that she doesn’t think they can be in a relationship if they can’t touch and despite his efforts he probably won’t be able to convince her. It has worked in his favor that no other relationships have worked out but in ‘97 it kicked in that this can’t just go on forever

I just love tragic love stories where the main problem is something that the characters can’t control so it makes it all that much worse. Everyone is saying that Cable will fix the timeline but I just don’t think that’s going to happen unless there is some big sacrifice for it to work. Since the main villain is Bastion I don’t think they’re going to do death Gambit with apocalypse. The only way I could see Gambit coming back is with a sentinel Gambit but with how important his death is supposed to be I wouldn’t be surprised if he never came back. I’m just interested in who or what Rogue will get closure from because she most definitely needs it. Anyways~ sorry for going off at the end but yeah I firmly believe that Gambit is gone and I honestly like the choice, what do you think will happen with Gambit?

[flowercrowngods]

aaaand captain steve, pretty pretty please 🌊🥺🥺🌊

i’ll love you forever for not forgetting about captain!steve my beloved 🥺🥹🤍

🌊 captain’s log: part 1 | part 2 | part 3

He shoves the Henderson boy into his cabin rather roughly before slowly turning back to close the door behind them, gently urging it to click shut and leave them closed off from the horrors that lie behind it.

“Steve—“

“That’s captain for you, Henderson.”

The boy swallows, eyes wide and fearful. He never did like it when Dustin gives him that look, but fear shall be his insurance now. His last bastion of defence against his captain.

He only hopes Claudia will forgive him — may she rest in peace.

“Captain,” the boy tries again, and Steve sees his age now. He’s a child. Impressionable still. To be welded and forged by fear, if things go well for him. To become soft and naive if they don’t.

“Yes?” It’s a little mean, challenging him so when deep down he is jealous of the boy’s joy to see his friend again. He wants to cut it out of him, that giant heart of his. Wants to carve it free and put it where his used to beat in the centre of his chest a long, long time ago.

“I’m— I’m sorry. I apologise. I just… It’s Theo!”

Steve doesn’t flinch, hearing that name, feeling the way it cuts through the air, splitting the room right between him and young Dustin.

“No,” he says as calmly as he can. “You forget that name. You will not speak to him, you will not so much as insinuate an ounce of familiarity between the two of you. None of that. You know the procedure, Henderson. That man is a prisoner on this ship until we know his business.”

“But—“

“The sea will take your word for anything you’ll have to say on this matter that isn’t Aye, Captain.”

“Aye,” Dustin says, his jaw clenched, his hands shaking. Steve raises a cold eyebrow. “Captain.”

He nods, letting it hang in the air between them for a bit, the rift sealing shut as he can hear Dustin’s rapidly beating heart and the trembling breaths he takes.

“Back to your station,” he tells him once he figures that fear will have dealt blows where his words were insufficient, a gentler edge in his voice. Dustin flinches away from him as he gives him a wide berth, heading out of the cabin.

The breath Steve lets out is in no way inferior to Dustin’s, shaking and trembling its way out of his lung.

It’s Theo, the words echo in his mind, the edge of hopefulness and defiance slicing into him as he leans on his desk to steady himself.

Steve wishes he’d stay gone.

🤍🌷 make me write (please)

[citrus-blade]

Piglin!Technoblade and Mate!Dream

Loving this request cause that’s mostly how I write them in A/B/O settings lol. However this is NOT A/B/O and decided to not write it in the DSMP Universe but simply normal Minecraft worldish. Kinda? Hope that makes sense lol

Techno is NOT a complete Piglin, he still has human features and can talk etc. like a human, however he lives with Piglins etc. Reason for that is that I don’t really write full Piglin Techno as this is something I’m not really comfortable with. As in, Piglin’s have full on snouts and can’t really talk nor understand human language etc and therefore Dream nor Techno could ever give consent to anything sooo, yeah. HOWEVER, he has a full Piglin form! He’s not always in it and mostly when around other Piglins but yeah. That’s how I went with this request, hope you like it! :]

Also again a lot of World building, sorry!

After this there is one more request that was sent in before they were closed! Then Imma start working on my other stories again! :]

Words: 1.864

A life in luxury was what most people wanted, what they desired. They’d do a lot to achieve it, work till they’re too exhausted for anything else, sell all their belonging, steal from others or even kill. Dream reached the goal of luxury in a different way, one he hadn’t really thought of but that worked out somehow. That way was called love.

Being the mate of the leader of a Piglin bastion had definitely it’s pro sites, one being that Dream basically swam in gold. Almost every day he got a new golden gift from his partner, either in the form of jewelry or a weapon. He loved the golden rings around his arms just as much as he appreciated the golden dagger he had gotten only a month ago.

They were all special to him as his partner – Technoblade – and him were in the final stage of courting. Which meant a lot of gifts in different forms. Sometimes Dream felt bad for not gifting anything back, humans simply didn’t court, they start dating and that’s it. But Piglins have actual courting rituals, traditions to show when you courted someone so that the possible mate knew but also all the other Piglins.

And like said before, Techno was a special Piglin, one who had two forms and was the leader of a bastion. Not a broken one but a still full functioning one with piglin stables, housing units and multiple treasure rooms. Outside the bastion was a village surrounded by crimson forest, it was impressive considering most bastions were destroyed. Techno was their leader, making sure not traveler would harm them or steal anymore, he was the most powerful of all of them.

However, all this also had a downside and that was Dream couldn’t really do whatever he wanted. Because even though the Piglins respected Techno and accepted him as their leader, they were still just… Piglins. They couldn’t really talk or communicate like Dream, they weren’t dumb or anything, but they were different, had different believes. And sometimes they either didn’t accept Dream and tried to get rid of him or, cause he had so much gold, wanted him for themselves.

Nothing ever really happened, Dream could defend himself and all, but still, Techno felt better when the man didn’t walk around without him. Sometimes Dream ignored that, grapped good armor and hid his identity to walk over the markets or discover more of the nether. Those were fun days, but Techno often got mad afterwards, telling Dream he shouldn’t just wander around and wait for Techno to have time and join him.

But Techno had a lot to do and therefore not as much time as he wished. Which left Dream mostly in their bedroom, staring at the ceiling in boredom and wondering when his partner will return. Just like he did right now, wearing a short and floaty top that didn’t really hide much with transparent puffy sleeves attached to it and a cloth around his hips with cuts at the sides for his legs.

He stared up at the ceiling as he was stretched out on their giant back, looking at the chandelier that hung from the black stones. With a loud sigh he turned on his side, instead staring out of the window, seeing a tower across with Piglin Brutes looking around, crossbows in their hands. A sudden screaming sound caught his attention and a Ghast appeared, shooting a fireball at the Brutes.

Dream jumped up and ran to the window, leaning a bit out of it as he watched the Brutes trying to shoot the Ghast. It kept shooting and the Brutes seemed to be a bit overwhelmed with dodging the fire while also trying to kill the monster. The blond was about to grab his axe and jump out the window to take care of it himself, but he was stopped when he saw another Piglin came running.

It was obvious who it was, a bit taller than the others, a crown on his head and a red cape floating behind him in the wind. Dream leaned back, watched as Techno – his mate – shot the fireball right back at the Ghast, killing it with one try. The Brutes nodded and bowed in front of him, showing their gratitude and respect towards the other Piglin. Meanwhile Dream touched his neck with one hand and bit his lower lip, watching Techno checking on the damage.

Techno had been courting Dream for a long time now and it was time for him to finish it up. The last part of the courting was a handmade head accessory that resembled a crown in some way, turning Dream into an equal to Techno. But the Piglin took his time, was very clear with what he wanted and made sure not to push Dream in any way. Even though sometimes Dream hoped for some kind of pushing.

Dream kept watching the Piglins, leaning his head on his hand while leaning on the windowsill. It seemed like Techno told them what to do to fix it and also calling some more Brutes to his side, pointing around the area. Probably told them to check out for more dangers, lately a lot more Ghasts appeared and Techno had been investigating it.

Suddenly, when Dream wasn’t expecting it, he met blood red eyes, staring at him. He gulped as his mate looked at him, not looking away for a second, not even when he started walking. Only when he walked down the steps that lead back into the bastion did the eye contact break.

Hurriedly Dream threw himself back on the bed, trying to get in some kind of good looking pose but failing miserably. He groaned lightly as he turned on his stomach for the third time, freezing up when he heard the door behind him slowly open. When he looked over his shoulder he saw Technoblade standing there, still in his Piglin form.

The Brute walked up to the bed, the door falling close behind him. Dream slowly sat up, watching the Piglin move around. In this form Techno looked almost like every other Piglin Brute, just a bit bigger and with red eyes instead of the typical white ones. Slowly he moved up to Dream, the man leaning back on his hands at the Piglin got in his personal space. “Hey honey,” Dream mumbled, looking over the Piglin face, the snout moving lightly as he sniffed around him.

Usually Techno turned into his more human form when around Dream, so communications would be easier. Dream could read Techno partly in this form, but he could never learn the language and Techno couldn’t understand the human language like this. In those moments Techno reacted only on instincts regarding Dream and Dream only reacted on what he thought his partner wanted.

Techno squeaked lightly, pressing his snout against Dream’s cheek, making him giggle. “Nooo! Don’t!” He laughed, falling back on the bed as Techno fell atop of him, the snout wandering to Dream’s neck where he was sensitive, his laughing grew louder. “That tickles! Stop it! Please!” He tried pushing the man off of him, which was hard when you were dying from laughter. Eventually the snout stopped and Techno buried his eyes in Dream’s neck instead, big arms wrapping around the lean form of the human.

Dream sighed in relaxation, smiling and leaning his head against Techno’s. Even though the never was naturally really hot – that’s why he wore the clothes he was wearing – he never got enough from Techno’s body heat. He could cuddle his partner all day and night and he wouldn’t care about being all sweaty, cause he had the love of his life in his arms.

Eventually Techno pulled back, leaning on his hands over his partner before turning into his more human form. The snout disappeared and left behind a rather big and slightly crooked nose. The white teeth stayed, poking out of the now human mouth and where no hair was before were now pink locks flowing down over his shoulder.

Again Dream smiled, one hand moving up to cup the man’s cheek. “Hey,” he repeated, chuckling when Techno leaned into his hand.

“Hey,” Techno echoed, sighing as he leaned down to place a kiss on Dream’s softer lips, fast moving down to his neck. “How’s my mate doin’?” he asked, pressing up closer to said mate, his other hand stroking Dream’s side.

The blond hummed, enjoying getting the attention he had craved all day, or more like the attention he craved all the time. “I’m good,” he mumbled back, moving his head to give more space to the pinkette, feeling teeth nibbling at his skin. “Bored, as always.”

Technoblade chuckled amused, finally pulling back and admiring the red mark he had left behind. “Sorry, but I have to attend my duties,” he explained, one finger coming up to the mark and carefully stroking over it before finding Dream’s green eyes. “But soon you can come with me, when you accept my last gift.”

When Techno stood up and took a step back Dream sat up as fast as he could, eyes wide and concentrated on his partner. Techno got down at one knee, eyes not once leaving Dream’s. “Dream,” he started, slowly pulling out something from behind his back. It looked like a headpiece made out of gold, hanging limply from Techno’s big hands. Smaller golden leaves hung off of it and in the middle was an emerald, shining in the light of the shroomlight that hung above of them. “Would you do me the honor and officially become my mate? Help me take care of our Bastion and protect our land by my side till our death and beyond?”

Dream’s mouth fell open as he stared at the headpiece, knowing that it was Techno himself who did it. That was the tradition and even though Dream knew how good his partner was in forging, he never saw something as detailed at this piece. His eyes flew back up at Techno, he felt tears welling in his eyes and when a worried look grew on Techno’s face, a bright smile grew on Dreams. Before he could even say something his head started nodding and his hands moved to touch Techno’s face. “Of course I do!”

A smile even brighter spread over Techno’s lips as the answer reached his piglin ears. He moved forward to press a long and affectionate kiss on Dream’s lips, not breaking it for a couple of seconds before finally pulling away and carefully placing the grown atop of Dream’s head. The blond tried to hold back his tears, knowing it wouldn’t matter as they would just evaporate after a few seconds. The emerald hung low on Dream’s forehead, fitting perfectly to Dream’s own green eyes which Techno often described as said gem.

Together the two sat on the bed, Dream leaning against his love with one arm around him, the other entwined with Dream’s. “My mate,” Techno whispered against Dream’s ear, placing a kiss against his temple.

“Your mate,” Dream answered before going in for a real kiss, one of many.

[keldae]

C. A moment’s respite.

The Last Light Inn was a small bastion of safety in the shadow-cursed lands, the darkness held at bay by Isobel's magic. It was a welcome reprieve for the party of adventurers seeking to take down the Absolute and the cultists in Moonrise Towers – the fairy’s blessing had provided protection from the shadows, but it still was good to have a safe harbour to retreat to.

Having tucked herself away in a corner, Devi sat on a rickety chair, watching the tieflings, the Harpers, and her friends mingling about the inn’s common room. Every once in a while, she could hear Karlach's laughter as she conversed with Dammon, or a shout as Wyll cleaned some other hapless dice player out of their gold with a good-natured grin. Yet her gaze kept travelling back to the wizard in the next seat, sipping on a cup of wine and intently reading a scroll that he had found on one of the bookshelves in the inn. Gale appeared to be completely lost in thought, a little furrow lining his brow, his hand sometimes abandoning his wine cup on the table to stroke his beard as he considered something.

It made for a lovely picture, the wizard so lost in thought, focused on the words before him and not on his surroundings. A man reading really shouldn’t have been that interesting – and yet, Devi found herself transfixed. Something about the angle of his brows, or the set of his jaw, or the way his long fingers moved in the lamp light made her want to study him, committing him to memory.

Because Mystra ordered him to become a memory, a little voice in her head muttered. When we find the Absolute, he's going to follow her damned orders to blow himself up taking it out. That made her look away, gazing into her own wine, lips pressed together tightly as though she could avoid having them tremble, betraying her feelings on the matter. Damn the gods for throwing them all into this predicament, and damn Mystra in particular.

A nudge to her side got her attention. Her heart leapt when she saw Gale's smile at her; he'd apparently lost focus on the scroll. “I'm surprised you're not playing against Wyll again,” he commented with a chuckle.

Devi snorted. “And lose even more gold pieces to him? That bastard’s too damn good at dice.”

Gale smirked. “Have you forsaken your goal of winning the pants off of him in payback?”

“It's taking a temporary pause. But I will say, if his left boot goes missing tonight, I had nothing to do with it. I'll get one of the tiefling kids to give me an alibi.”

That got another chuckle from Gale. “Ah, the mark of a wise criminal. As I would not like to have my own boots stolen in payback, rest assured, I'll keep your secrets intact.”

“Smart man.” Devi grinned and sipped her wine, then gestured to the scroll with her cup. “Find anything interesting in that?”

“Not as much useful information for our predicament as I'd hoped for, but it’s still very fascinating reading.” Gale looked back down at the scroll. “Apparently, if we can make our way to the cellar of the inn, we may be able to find a Selûnite refuge, hidden away from the Sharran Justiciars. The former innkeeper, before the shadow-curse took over, was apparently sympathetic to the Selûnites.”

“Huh. Interesting.” Devi nodded thoughtfully. “Shadowheart might get a laugh out of it, at least. I’m just happy she and Isobel haven’t had a spat yet.”

“Yet being the operative word,” Gale muttered. “Still, Shadowheart does recognize that not all of us have the protection that Shar lent her, or the pixie’s blessing, and Isobel is invaluable for everyone’s safety. Regardless of their… disagreements on their goddesses, they’ll keep the peace for now.”

Devi nodded again, watching as Gale rolled the scroll back up. “Sorry if I’m distracting you from your reading,” the thief said. “I know you love your books.”

“Think nothing of it,” Gale chuckled. “You are quite pleasant company to have around, even if you are quite a bit quieter than usual tonight. A gold piece for your thoughts?”

“That’s the most anyone’s ever offered to hear what’s in my head,” Devi laughed. She looked over at the sound of dice clattering, and Wyll gracefully accepting a rare loss with a seated bow to a triumphant-looking tiefling, raucous laughter drifting over to the corner. “My mind’s all over the place tonight. I’m just…” Thinking about you and how unfair it is that Mystra’s ordered you to your death. No goddess deserves that level of devotion! Forgiveness isn’t worth that much. “I’m thinking about how good it is to see everyone relaxed and safe for the moment.”

“It is pleasant to see,” Gale agreed, looking away from Devi to survey the rest of the inn’s common room. “Would that we could see this more frequently, with everything happening to us. The tadpoles, the Absolute…” He shrugged. “But it could be argued that the rarity of these moments of respite make them that much more valuable, when we do get them. We more fully appreciate them.”

“I think I’d appreciate them fully, even if we got them more regularly,” Devi grumbled. She heard Gale chuckle, then looked back at the wizard. “So… found any more interesting reading?” Usually any books that she found while exploring were immediately handed to Gale or Shadowheart – Devi could read, but she struggled in making sense of the markings on the pages. She lacked Gale’s ability to easily comprehend the written words. Education was more valued for a wizard prodigy and not a back-alley Baldurian thief.

“Quite a bit,” Gale said with a smile. “I have a small library growing in my tent from the books that we’ve found on our travels. If you would like, I could read some of them to you.”

“Would you?” Devi perked up, interested by that prospect. “Any chance that book you mentioned about, uh, stimulation is in your library?”

Gale chuckled. “Alas, no – that particular book is in my tower in Waterdeep. However, I do have a few other tomes in my collection here that may be of interest to you.”

“Consider me intrigued,” Devi said with a grin. She finished off her wine, watching Gale set his own empty cup on the table. “Shall we go investigate?”

“Precisely where my thoughts were, my dear.” Gale grinned and stood up, offering her his arm like a proper gentleman. “We’ll leave the others to their revelry for now. Time spent with you is always a pleasurable experience.”

“Even when we’re both covered in blood and gods-know-what?” Devi laughed and took Gale’s arm, letting the wizard lead her out of the inn and back towards the party’s camp, set up on the lawn outside – all the rooms in the inn had been claimed by Harpers or tieflings.

“Even then.” Gale’s smile made Devi’s heart skip a beat. “Although a peaceful moment like this is always preferable.” “You won’t hear me arguing that.” Devi smiled, savouring the moments she could spend in Gale’s company, in relative peace and quiet. Gods help me, I will talk him out of sacrificing himself to destroy the Absolute. He deserves to live, and I want him to live. She offered up a silent prayer to any god that would listen (except Mystra) – let Gale live. Even if he never loves me the way I do him, let him live.

[chazz-is-a-zelda-fan]

I COME BEARING GIFTS!!

I have most of the Obelisk crew done, just Jim, Axel, and Bastion left! And I went back and tweaked Chazz and Alexis juuuussst a little bit too but I thought you'd like to see them! 😁

Jaden gets to steer the ship! 🚢

I'm only assigning like 3 actual roles on the ship that aren't Alexis but I haven't drawn Jim or Bastion yet so lololol

I really agonized about the peg leg ✋😭

Stg I did sm better by him this time ✋

The captain finally has a hat!

Pirates be upon ye! 😁

ABBY I AM LITERALLY IN THE MOVIE THEATER RN WATCHING PREVIEW OHHHHH MANNNNNNNN

SORRY GHOSTBUSTERS IM THINKING ABOUT PIRATES 🗣️🏴‍☠️ MY HEART BELONGS TO THE SEAAA

OH MY GOD I KOVE ALL OF THESE DESIGNS SO MUCH. HASSLEBERRYS PEG LEG!! SYRUS AND HIS CONCEALED PISTOL!!!! JESSE AND JADEN’S MATCHING SASHES!!!!!!!!!! OHHHHHHHHHHH IM FERAL IM BOUNCING RN AAWWHSHHRbbb

i’m going to draw pirate kaoru when i get home YOUVE INFECTED ME TEEHEE!!!!

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

I’m absolutely in love with Bastion and Mariano! Misersblem trans men are the best! If you want to, I’d love to see some modern AU with Mariano tending to Bastion’s wounds. Have a writer cookie 🍪

Omg you're so SWEET thank you!! I can totally do this for you, in fact, take whumptober days 14 and 21 c:

Day 14/21 - Field Medicine/Shock

Ping list: @ailesswhumptober, @whumperofworlds, @whump-captain, @whumpbees

TWs: blood, shock, fingers going into wounds, hiking accident, gore

"Bastian!" Mariano's voice cut through the quiet, echoing through the trees. "Bastian, shout if you can hear me!"

Bastian groaned, electricity ripping through his back as he drew in a breath. It took a few tries, but he managed to send a long "over here!" through the air, through the trees he'd just managed to tumble through on his way down the steep hill. He still couldn't believe he'd slipped like that on their hike.

Mariano sent back a grito, the rolling trill bouncing and jolting as he made his way down the hill. Bastian couldn't help the flutter in his chest as he heard it--there really was something jarring about hearing that sort of noise outside of a social setting. It was out of place there, in the quiet of the forest after a rough fall.

Not even a minute later, Mariano jogged into view, eyebrows bunching together as he came to a stop beside Bastian. "Bastian--it's alright, let me take a look at you." He dropped to his knees, pulling his bag from his shoulders and tugging his first aid kit from it.

"For once, I'm glad you're so paranoid." Bastian managed, grinning as Mariano huffed out a laugh and helped Bastian onto his side. "Are we gonna have to amputate anything?"

"If we have to amputate your back, we have bigger issues." Mariano laughed again, more sincere as he lifted Bastian's shirt up and away from the wounds. His grin morphed into an stern wince and a hiss. "This...this won't be pleasant. The forest got you good."

"How bad is it?" Bastian asked, resting his head back on the ground. Something in Mariano's voice told him that he didn't want to look at what was going to happen.

"I'll have to pack one of these punctures so that we can get you to a doctor. It's like you sprung a leak. Don't squirm, but you can scream." Bastian heard Mariano ripping open a pack of sterile gloves, then another package being ripped open. And then something pressed into the wound.

"What are you doing?" Bastian gasped, shuddering against the fire that ripped through him, with whatever was being forced into him being the epicenter. "What the fuck...?" He craned his neck to see that yes, Mariano had pressed two gloved fingers into the injury. It made his head swim and nausea rise up in his gut.

"I have to control the bleeding and pressure is the best way to do that. Manuel taught me how to do this, it's alright." Mariano said, wrenching a clipped yelp from Bastian as he forced his fingers in further. "There--there, yes. I think I got it." Bastian watched him dab at the skin around his hand, eying the bloodied tissue for just a few seconds. "This won't feel good."

Bastian groaned into his arm as Mariano started pressing something that felt like sandpaper in beside his fingers. "What's that?" He asked, needing something, needing to hear Mariano's steady, smooth voice.

"I'm using gauze to help stop the bleeding." Mariano answered, continuing to stuff more of it in. "I'm sorry, I know dry gauze on a wound is hell. I hated using it when I got shot in the leg."

"S'that where that scar on your thigh is from?" Bastian asked, remembering the near-invisible mark at the mottled edge of one of Mariano's burn scars.

Mariano hummed how he always did when he nodded. "It wasn't a very good day, but Manuel said that I packed it correctly, at least." He slipped his fingers out, and Bastian shuddered as Mariano just kept forcing more and more gauze into the space.

Bastian felt a larger square get slipped between Mariano's palm and Bastian’s skin, and then it was like the mage tried to shove that inside as well. His body weight leaned in and stayed there, the heel of Mariano's other palm sliding soothingly along Bastian's shoulder. "Four minutes of pressure to be safe, now, then I'll tape it down and I'll look at the rest of your scrapes."

Bastian's head spun as he nodded. "S'it normal to feel this dizzy?" He asked, closing his eyes against the way the world tilted.

"Your body is responding to the blood loss, but I know what to do. I have some sports drinks in my bag with plenty of sugar." Bastian shivered as Mariano settled in against him. Oh, that made sense. He was going into shock. "We're a few minutes from the car, too, so an ambulance can meet us there. Can you dial the emergency number for me?"

Something about Mariano's request and tone settled his stomach, though. It was like a weighted blanket, calm and self-assured. His boyfriend knew what he was doing. He knew how to handle this.

"Okay." Bastian said, reaching a hand back for Mariano's as he tried to fish his phone from his pocket. "Yeah. I can do that so you don't get my screen all bloody."

As the phone began to ring and Mariano kept sliding his hand over Bastian's shoulder, he took a deeper breath. Mariano was a smart mage. He would always take care of his dragon.

[luvrsux]

a/n: take this until i’m done writing requests and other fics luvs ♡

ONE PIECE HEADCANONS #2

Overwatch Mains!

❝ giving each strawhat + more an overwatch hero they'd play. comment on suggestions i should do! :3 ❞

MONKEY D. LUFFY - Tracer

╰┈➤ I feel like Luffy is so simple enough to play the icon of Overwatch. Luffy was so baffled to see that she was able to teleport and immediately fell in love with the kit. Considering Tracer is also a flanking character, he'd be in the middle of the enemy team causing havoc. Will NOT touch support

Luffy: WOAH SHE CAN TELEPORT???? THATS SO COOL

Other Choices: Reinhardt as Tank, Junkrat as second Damage

RORONOA ZORO - Genji

╰┈➤ This is such an obvious choice, there's no need to explain. He rocks the Sentai skin on Genji or just his regular no-skin outfit just for the green. He's the only hero he has with gold weapons and the highest ranked. He insta-locks this man whenever he's playing.

Sanji: Do you play anyone else Mosshead???

Zoro: Just shut up and heal me if you want to win, cook

Other Choices: Doomfist as Tank

VINSMOKE SANJI - Cole Cassidy

╰┈➤ I feel like Sanji connects with Cassidy's charm and smoking habits so he plays him often. He knows Cassidy is the lover boy of the Overwatch community and everyone obsesses over him so he took that as an opportunity to main him. Sanji's second-best class is support but only really pays attention to Nami's health. Won't heal anyone else (especially Zoro) unless they're shouting at him.

Zoro: SWIRLY BROWS, CAN YOU HEAL ME? IM AT 20 IN THE MIDDLE OF A FIGHT

Sanji: WELL MAYBE IF YOU STOPPED JUMPING SO MUCH ID HEAL YOU. LET ME HEAL MY SWEET NAMI FIRST

Zoro: I DIED ANYWAYS I HOPE THEY KILL YOU

Other Choices: Mercy and Ana as Support

GOD USOPP - Widowmaker

╰┈➤ This choice is so obvious. Widow is a sniping character, and so is Usopp. He is a menace to Widow and doesn't even know it. He likes how Widow isn't meant to be on the actual battlefield but more on the sidelines picking off the enemy teams. He screams like a bitch when someone flanks behind him though.

Usopp: Okay, I killed their supports we should be good- *A Tracer comes up from behind* LUFFYYYYYYYY THERES SOMEONE ON MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Luffy: Oh sorry Im in spawn :p

Other Choices: Lucio as Support, Hanzo as second Damage

NAMI - Kiriko

╰┈➤ Nami definitely loves Kiriko for her more angsty personality that no one likes. She'd rather help in the backlines than deal with fighting up front, but she puts the kunais to WORK. Sanji is always on her tail and targets anyone who tries to or manages to kill her.

Nami: Dang it, I died. Try to hold out a little longer guys-

Sanji: WHO DID IT NAMI????? ILL KILL THEM FOR YOU MY SWEET

Other Choices: Brigette as second Support, Ashe as Damage, D.va as Tank

TONY TONY CHOPPER - Mercy

╰┈➤ Chopper will mainly play any support but Mercy is his top choice. He tries to revive anyone he can even in the tightest of situations. He is the best healer you can get, but he can also be a great tank. But our lil baby gets stressed...

Chopper: IM COMING LUFFY DONT WORRY

Zoro: Chopper, can you damage boost me?

Chopper: YEAH IN A SEC-

Sanji: Chopper revive! That Zenyatta is so low!

Chopper: IM TRYINGGGGGGGG

Other Choices: Orisa and Wrecking Ball as Tank

NICO ROBIN - Moira

╰┈➤ There is no possible way Nico doesn't play Moira. I feel like she's more DPS Moira than anything but still upholds good support for her team.

Other Choices: Sombra as Damage, Lifeweaver as Support

FRANKY - Reinhardt

╰┈➤ Franky is 100% the crew's Tank main. He knows every tank playstyle from top to the very bottom but his favorite is of course the loudest one there. Franky is the most reliable tank you can get. He insta-locks Rein and adores him to the very end.

Sanji: I think you should switch, Franky they have a few counters-

Franky: Ill still kick their asses, I dont care Im playing Reinhardt

Other Choices: Bastion as Damage

SOUL KING BROOK - Junkrat

╰┈➤ Brook finds ruining people's day by playing the most annoying character on the roster the funniest thing ever. He laughs when Junkrat laughs manically. It's such a fitting choice for his personality

Other Choices: Reaper as second Damage

PORTGAS D. ACE - Solider: 76

╰┈➤ He is such a straightforward person enough to play Solider but be dope good at it. Ace would be the type of person to get ahead of themselves and over-extend though.

Sabo: ACE ACE YOURE OVER EXTENDING I CANT HEAL YOU-

Ace: Huh? *dies* Oh my bad

Sabo: Ill get off right now.

Luffy: BAHSKAKAHAIAHA WHY HE DIE LIKE THATAHSAA-

Other Choices: Torbjorn for second Damage

SABO - Baptiste

╰┈➤ Sabo is definitely a good damage support hero. He loves Bap for his sweet personality yet dark backstory similar to his own. He can't stand playing with 2 reckless damages every time though (Luffy and Ace)

Luffy: Saboooooo why didn't you heal meeeeeee :(

Sabo: YOURE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MAP IM SORRY???

Other Choices: Zenyatta as second Support, Echo as Damage

TRAFALGAR D. WATER LAW - Ramattra

╰┈➤ I see Law playing the most complex Tank in the game but Law can play almost anyone on the roster if he feels like it. He barely gives out any callouts unless he is raging like crazy

Luffy: Imma go in and kill everyone

Law: ...

Zoro: I need help over here not gonna lie

Law: ...

Sanji: I think Im gonna switch-

Law: CAN THIS SYMMETRA STOP PLACING TURRETS ON OUR SPAWN OH MY FUCKING-

Other Choices: Reaper as Damage, Mercy as Support

EUSTASS KIDD - Roadhog

╰┈➤ Kidd is definitely a one-trick and only for the most annoying tank in the game. Killer is definitely his pocket healer and will yell at anyone who comes after his skills in the slightest

Law: Kid please pick another tank, you're doing terrible

Kid: WHAT??? FUCK YOU SAY

Luffy: YOU SUCK

Kid: I COULD BEAT BOTH OF YOU IN A 1V1 RIGHT NOW-

thats all! i hoped you enjoyed the little dialogues hehe

[ninadove]

I don't know if you've ever talked/reflected on this but… have you ever thought about the idea of "souls" in Miraculous? I don't know, I was tormented by that a few nights ago because the very pointed and never dealt with in depth situation with the senti.

Obviously Felix thinks that they are ALL sentient creatures that deserve to live and "undoing" is equivalent to living but even writing this I'm talking about "creatures" not people which also means that I myself have a bias that the more human, the more "real" I see them.

Of course GabNat don't see them as more than tools but they very obviously think differently from the particular case of *Adrien* so I have to wonder if for them "intention" is what makes Adrien different, endowed with a soul so to speak. And LB is the heroine, in theory the bastion of morality, but, if I'm not mistaken, there is only one case in which she treat a senti as if they were a person worthy of having their own free will and they are sentibug, after that we have others (I'm thinking of sentibubble) and (although I understand that they had no way of freeing them and they have to stop them) they also don't spend a moment reflecting that they could be just as dignified.

I don't know, just all these mixed up ideas of what makes them "real" beyond a construct and that Felix thinks the mere idea of creation is enough, while the villains seem to think there are "exceptions" and I don't have no idea what the parameter of the heroine or Kagami for that matter would be.

I really want to hear your thoughts

OK, so I clicked publish before I even got a chance to write anything. Because I’m a genius. Anon I’m so sorry.

ANYWAYS you raise an excellent question, so I’m going to try my best to put my thoughts in order! 🦚

First of all, it seems Thomas Astruc himself differentiates between “human” Sentibeings and others:

Which seems to imply different levels of sentience: for instance, Adrien is no different from any regular child, while Feast exhibits behaviours that are closer to an animal’s. Not that it makes abusing or destroying him acceptable in any way, but I don’t think we’re supposed to feel as much towards him as towards the Sentikids.

(I do. I feel all the feels for Feast. Feast is my baby boy and I will never stop mourning him.)

If intent is truly what determines a Senti’s level of sentience, then this raises many questions as to which ones were created with that objective in mind. And interestingly, it doesn’t actually seem to be tied to whether they look “human” or not.

Sentibug is the first Sentibeing that is explicitly shown to have a soul of her own. Mayura wanted her to be a perfect copy of Ladybug, and that backfired the second she got a hold of her own amok; she shares the heroine’s strong sense of justice, and immediately sided with her at the cost of her life.

What does it mean for humanoid Sentis that were created after S3? Specifically, Senti-Gabriel and Senti-Bubbler? As far as I recall, they don’t get a chance to speak for themselves and express their own identity. If they were to be freed, would they act of their own volition or model their behaviour after their human counterpart? What would that mean for Felix, who was created out of jealousy over Adrien? Would Shadowmoth be able to create Sentibeings who simply look human, but are only granted a “lower” level of sentience to avoid a repeat of the Sentibug debacle?

The more I’m writing, the more I hate the idea of nitpicking sentience levels. It feels like the exact same logic Gabriel, Tomoe or Colt would use to justify the way they (mis)treat their children.

Felix also rejects the idea of a sentience hierarchy — especially based on the Sentibeings’ appearance and ability to speak for themselves.

Strikeback looks absolutely terrifying — monstruous, even. There’s nothing remotely human about them; and yet, Felix feels heartbroken and guilty as he lets Ladybug yeet them into the Sun.

Red Moon is also scary — in a stranger, more ominous, beautiful kind of way. An important feature about her is that she is unable to speak for herself; yet Argos still calls her his sister, and it is pretty clear from the way he interacts with her that she can understand him and experience emotions just as complex as his.

From a purely doylist explanation — I think Sentis are whatever the writing team needs them to be in the moment. This was made extra clear with the creation and (probable) destruction of Once Upon A Time, so they could try something new in terms of storytelling:

The play was very fun (read: tragic), don’t get me wrong, but I feel like the writers kind of got in their own way here.

The thing is — while the delivery isn’t the most consistent or satisfactory, you can tell that there is an intent to say something through the existence and treatment of Sentibeings.

Adrien, Felix and Kagami are, or course, child abuse survivors:

But they are also extremely queer-coded:

And very likely neurodivergent:

I’m sure there’s a lot of other communities who can see themselves represented in these kids — the common thread between these demographics being that we know what it feels like to be othered.

How many queer people are being mistreated for being “too overtly gay, why can’t you just be normal about it”? Or rejected by their own community, based on arbitrary standards?

How many neurodivergent people are being treated as subhuman, simply because they do not have the capability to advocate for themselves? Or because they are disabled “in the wrong way”?

As for abuse survivors? The hard truth is that they aren’t always perfect victims, who automatically know how to behave healthily once they’re out of a bad situation — especially not when they are literal children, who have never experienced anything else in their lives. There are after-effects, wounds that might get infected if you don’t tend to them, behaviours to unlearn. And yes, the healing process can look ugly, but they deserve some grace — a chance to grow and make it right.

Oftentimes, these biases come from figures of authority who are typically seen as “progressive”, or people who have the best intentions in the world — like Ladybug, who originally failed to see Sentis as human or even just sentient, unless they looked exactly like her.

All that to say — the approach that I take when thinking or writing about Sentibeings is the same as Felix’s not taking the Once incident into consideration: that all Sentis are sentient, to the same level, until proven otherwise. Is it necessarily coherent with what has been shown on screen? Not really, but I think it’s truer to the intended message!

And because I’m not one to pass up an opportunity, have some Transmasc Felix Propaganda:

[falsemortal]

Pond 🎣

// written by the lovely @abbochan , art by me

Travis let the evening get away from him as he fished alone at the old pond on the Hackett property. It was a well hidden spot far into the woods and over the last few years, it had mostly been reclaimed by nature. Travis had only been coming back in recent months, re-marking old footpaths and clearing away most of the overgrown plant life. The large pond was tucked away in a pocket of the forest where it was rarely ever disturbed and Travis held it very close to his heart, sometimes feeling as though it was his last bastion of peace during those six years of his family’s curse. So often would he escape into these woods much like a wolf himself, feeling like the only man on earth, tarnished from his own war and yet hellbent on winning it. 

The sun was nearly about to fall behind the horizon and Travis sighed deeply, his hands tightening around the handle of his fishing rod before they slid up to reel in his line, deftly working as his gaze flicked over the ripples in the water, the amber light refracting on it like tiny, shimmering crystals. He heard a few footsteps in the trees behind him and only turned to see his company when he heard the thump of shoes on the old wooden dock. 

“I knew I should have checked here first.” Laura says with a small smile. The escaping glow of the sun catches her face just right, her blue eyes dancing like the tip of a flame and Travis swallows thickly when she sits down beside him, leaving little room for argument. “I went to the lake first and then the orchard,” She says, gesturing with either hand. “But I know this is where you’ve been coming to be alone, alone so I guess I’m sorry for kinda crashing.” She says with an apologetic look.

Travis shakes his head and the corner of his mouth turns up just a bit. “It’s okay,” He says. “I should've left you a note ‘cause I didn’t bring my phone down with me, sorry ‘bout that.”

“Yeah, I know.” Laura says, poking him in the shoulder. “I saw it on the counter and rolled my eyes so far into the back of my head, I could see my damn brain.” 

Travis laughs and apologizes again before sending his line back into the water, even more content now that Laura had joined him. 

“Snag anything exciting?” She asks, looking up at him with one eye squinted from the last minutes of the sun. 

Travis feels his face warm and he clears his throat, suddenly feeling like he had a bird in his guts, flipping and fluttering around. “Just the usual suspects.” He responds. “A few bass and a couple of catfish.” He looks down at her and reels in the line before putting the rod between the two of them. “Wanna go for a round?” 

Laura beams up at him and takes it from his grasp, repositioning herself so she was more comfortable. “First cast.” She says with a grin. “I’ll hit.” 

Travis feigns skepticism and jokingly rolls his eyes, his tongue striking the roof of his mouth. “Always so damn cocky.” He says while shaking his head. 

“Hey, don't get mad when the student surpasses the mentor.” Laura shrugs with a smile before whipping the line out onto the pond. 

True to her word, Laura nailed a bass within two minutes and a friendly competition formed between them as they began to pass the rod back and forth. The light had faded and fireflies began to hover over the water, the glare of the moon reflecting against it like a dark mirror and Travis knew it was almost time to call it a night. He looked over to Laura who was gazing up at the stars and he watched her shiver while running her hands up and down her bare arms. He deftly placed the rod on the dock and shrugged off his flannel, passing it to her without a word. 

Laura smiles sweetly when she notices his gesture and turns a bit to the side so Travis can drape it over her shoulders. 

“Has anyone ever told you how sweet you are, Travis?” She asks, her cheeks becoming rosy from the cold. 

He pretends to think for a moment before smiling softly. “Yeah, I’ve heard that once or twice from a girl I know.” 

“Well she sounds pretty cool.” Laura says, her impossibly blue eyes pin him to his spot, her smile strikes him down like it's merely a sin to behold her and Travis swallows the stone in his throat. 

“She’s ‘bout the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.” He says softly. “And I don’t ever wanna take her for granted…” Travis’ mouth works into a frown and he sighs lightly. “I already made that mistake once and she forgave me.” 

Laura reaches up and her hand finds his jaw, stroking his stubble with her thumb and Travis leans into her touch. “Well…” She says before leaning up and placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “She also knows that you’re a good man and that you deserve grace.”

His eyes slide closed as Laura continues to comfort him: “And she also knows that even good men like you, Travis, can make mistakes.” He feels her lean into his shoulder, her cheek nuzzling into the sleeve of his shirt. “But I don’t know a single man that would spend his every waking hour trying to right his wrongs. I don’t know a single man with a will as strong as yours, Travis.” 

“And I got nothin’ to show for it…” He mutters. Travis opens his eyes and looks over the water, the reflection of the moon dancing upon the ripples and he feels Laura lift her head and could feel her eyes on him. 

“You got your freedom.” She says plainly, like it was the most obvious thing on the planet. “And now we get to make up for all that time you lost.” Laura smiles at him and Travis can’t help but smile back but he knows there’s a sadness laced within it. 

“I don’t really remember the man I was before the curse.” Travis admits. 

Laura’s eyes snare him again as they soften, the moonlight hovering above her like a halo of light. “Well,” She says softly. “I can’t wait to get to know him.”