#My mind is playing scenes where he’s there

[alpaca-clouds]

BG3 fans, we gotta talk CPTSD

Okay, I have spend about a week considering writing this blog, but I really gotta say, that it is something people really need to understand. See, I mostly see this issue with Astarion and his depiction in fandom. However, I would argue that it is a thing that affects literally all characters that play some sort of bigger in this entire game. Including many NPCs.

But let me start with Astarion. See, I wrote the blog two weeks ago about people being judgy on people, who do not want to have graveyard sex with him. Mostly people will argue how Astarion should be allowed to have his agency in that moment - while I argued that whoever the player is playing should have also agency in that scene. Including the agency to say "no" for whatever reason. I also included that my Tav absolutely denied Astarion, because he was not trusting that Astarion in the scene really was ready for it, for a variety of reasons. Which is very much a valid reason for someone not to want to sleep with someone else. (Literally every reason is a good reason for that, mind you.)

And obviously there came the comment, that went basically: "As someone who was raped I am very appalled by you saying that raped people cannot consent." Which is very much not what I said.

What I said was, that my Tav did not consent. Yes, he did not consent because he thought Astarion was not ready for it - but he is the one not consenting. It does not matter for this whether his assumption about Astarion is true or not. Tav does not feel comfortable in the scene, so Tav does not want sex right there.

However... If you consider the drow orgy scene, Tav is also very much right. If you do that scene after defeating Cazador, Astarion is enthusiastically consenting to that orgy, but he still ends up dissociating during the scene. (And in that scene, even if your character notices it, you cannot go "Stop!" Which I hate.)

Here is the thing. If you are in the BDSM scene, you might actually have encountered a scenario in real life where someone was enthusiastically consenting to something - only to them realize, that they were not into it at all. And people can withdraw their consent IRL at this point. Only that in this game, obviously you can't. So within the game choices I will just start out with "no" for this character.

Still, that is actually not what I mainly wanted to talk about. No.

What I wanted to talk about is the other thing. I absolutely know that for a variety of reasons a lot of SA survivors do identify with Astarion, and I do not want to take that from anyone. I think it is amazing that we got a character with whom we see this issue portrayed seriously. And let's face it. Especially in tumblr fandom circles, we will have a lot of SA survivors, because the userbase of this website is majority afab, and many are queer. And we know from statistics that queer afab people are even more likely than non-queer afab people to experience SA at some point in there life. So, yes, Astarion is going to be embraced by this community makes sense - even without his dashing looks.

But here we get to the actual meat of the issue: Astarion was not just raped. Astarion was abused in a variety of ways - some of them sexual - over the course of 200 years. He went not through a single traumatic event, but an ongoing trauma that, again, lasted for 200 years.

Or to put different: Astarion does not have PTSD. He has C-PTSD. Complex trauma. The kind of trauma that develops when the trauma lasts over a long, long time, without the survivor getting a chance to ever really properly ever relax. Something that was very true for Astarion's time under Cazador. He was under constant threat of rape, torture, and other forms of violence.

While CPTSD is a form of PTSD, it has some differing symptoms - and additional symptoms from plain old PTSD.

I found this graphic on this blog here, and found it fairly good in the depictions. (If you google CPTSD you will find several graphics like this.) It shows very well the additional symptoms, compared to normal trauma.

Generally speaking, CPTSD brings a lot stronger issues with self-worth, interpersonal problems, and emotional regulation. CPTSD folks are often prone to emotional outbursts (this graphic names anger, but technically it can be all other kinds of emotional outbursts - which is why at times CPTSD gets confused with BPD).

And Astarion is written like this. He shows very much all the symptoms of CPTSD. And let's be honest: That is an issue he will have to deal with for a long, long while.

But... As I said, the same is actually true for pretty much all the characters.

If you look at the companions, it is obvious.

Gale spent at least a year in constant fear of blowing up. While Mystra's abusiveness towards him within the relationship prior the orb is more fanon than canon (though the relationship was defnitely not an easy one), the "one year in constant fear of death" is very likely going to instill some form of CPTSD in him.

Karlach was a slave for 10 years, forced to fight in the hells. While she will also probably suffer from certain forms of PTSD more common in soldiers. Additionally I would argue that she also has some CPTSD from tiefling-racism. While she does not bring it up often... She does seem to have a thing there.

With Wyll it is a bit more complicated. Yes, for him I would see the kind of CPTSD I have - parental abuse related. Ulder was not openly abusive, but neither was my mother, and guess what fucked me most up in my childhood, despite experiencing some really bad violence elsewhere.

Shadowheart was abused by Viconia and midwashed and tortured and was forced to kill her fucking pet mouse. Bonus points that a lot of it happened during her childhood. She very much is gonna suffer the consequences.

Lae'zel... Do I really need to say something about her upbringing among the Gith?

Then we have Halsin. We know fairly little about his background, given that he is very coy in talking about it. But his "three years as a drow slave" definitely make it likely that he has developed some form of CPTSD.

And then we have Jaheira and Minsc. For whom just the... Well, look folks, the adventuring lifestyle would logically also leave you with CPTSD of some sort.

Even if you play a Tav who entered the game after having a very untraumatic life... They will spent what has to be at least two months with a tadpole in their head threatening to kill them - while half of Baldur's Gate is trying to do the same. They'll have PTSD after this at the very least, if not CPTSD. (Even though, let's face it, chances are we all gave our Tavs more than enough background trauma to go along with it, right?)

And same goes for so many other characters. The tiefling refugees. Our main villains (especially Gortash and Orin). Cazador. The other vampire spawn (duh). The list goes on.

So, what am I trying to say here?

Well, for once I just want to make sure folks understand that CPTSD is a thing that exists and while being similar to normal PTSD differs in some points. Including the fact that people with CPTSD have a high likelihood to make very rash decisions driven by instable emotional states, that might be harmful to them on the long run.

And mind you. In real life most people with CPTSD have it because either they were bullied for a long time, or were in an abusive relationship of some sort. (Abusive parents, abusive partners, abusive friends/roommates.) But even in those heightened scenarios the game represents for the most part - the issues are gonna be still mainly the same.

[elysiaheaven]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐘-(𝐒𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥)-𝐉𝐢𝐚𝐨𝐪𝐢𝐮 𝐱 𝐅.𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫-(The Fox's Wedding Sequel!)

@kianasflowers Banner credit!

Mentions of Gorey descriptions! Beheading descriptions

Dear Mei,

I realized that the village I'm in needs my help, I just remembered everything. Sorry for not replying for.. a couple of years?

I hope everyone is fine and well! It's a long story how I ended like this. But, I hope I will be able to see you again.

I really want to meet all but I can't! I have to save these people so, Maybe I'll die.

My location is the Xianzhou Luofu, If you want to meet me. You can! But I don't know how I'll be by the time you come or this letter.

Maybe dead, a corpse.

Or Alive, Helping people.

I hope that man who calls himself god wouldn't win...

Hey Mei, Will you get me some new kimono and a seed of the sakura tree? If I died. Place it beside my grave.

If I live...

Present day

The days in Yaoqing were quiet but heavy, filled with both healing and the lingering shadows of your shared trauma. You and Jiaoqiu spent much of your time indoors, a small, humble home nestled in a quiet corner of the village. The walls that held you both felt both like a sanctuary and a cage, protecting you from the outside world while reminding you of the isolation brought by your injuries.

You struggled with your mobility, the pain in your neck and feet making every step a reminder of the glass shards and the torment you had endured. Walking was a challenge; sometimes, even the simplest movement felt like an insurmountable task. And Jiaoqiu—his blindness had taken away much of his independence, and though he tried to adjust, it was clear the world felt different to him now, unfamiliar and unforgiving.

Cooking had become a trial for both of you. You would attempt to stand by the stove, wincing as you leaned against the counter, trying to prepare a simple meal. But even that was difficult. Your body protested with every movement, and Jiaoqiu—once so self-sufficient—was now struggling to eat due to the severity of his internal wounds. Spicy food, which he had once enjoyed, now caused him immense discomfort, his body rejecting the heat as it tried to heal.

There were moments of despair, moments where you both felt as though the weight of your past was too much to bear. The nights were particularly hard for Jiaoqiu, plagued by vivid nightmares that left him trembling and drenched in sweat. You would wake to the sound of his ragged breaths, his body tense with the horrors that played out in his mind.

Jiaoqiu stirred in his sleep, his body tense as the nightmare took hold. His breathing quickened, his chest rising and falling unevenly, trapped in the throes of a memory turned twisted and nightmarish.

In his dream, the air was thick with the smell of blood, the sound of clashing metal, and the sight of Hoolay standing before him, blade in hand. Jiaoqiu was bound, unable to move, his limbs frozen as he watched helplessly. You stood on the ground before Hoolay, your body bloodied, your neck exposed—ready for the final blow.

"No…" Jiaoqiu gasped, his voice hoarse, barely able to form the words. His throat tightened, his heart pounding against his ribs, desperate to stop what was about to happen.

But the scene continued, cruel and unrelenting. Hoolay's lips curled into a sneer, eyes dark and unfeeling as he raised the blade high above your head.

"Don't do it!" Jiaoqiu screamed, his voice breaking. But Hoolay only laughed, cold and merciless, the sound echoing in the empty space.

You turned to face Jiaoqiu, your eyes wide, filled with a strange, unsettling calm. Blood dripped from your wounds, your body trembling, but your lips twisted into a smile—a horrifying, broken smile.

"You did this," you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of sorrow and accusation. "It's your fault I died, Jiaoqiu."

He shook his head, eyes wide with terror. "No… No, I didn't mean for this to happen!"

But you only laughed, a haunting, echoing sound that filled the air. "Of course, you did. You were too weak to save me. You let this happen."

Tears streamed down his face as he struggled against the invisible bonds, desperate to reach you, to stop what was happening. "I tried! I tried to save you!"

Your smile widened, grotesque and unnatural, your eyes hollow, as if all the life had been drained from them. "Too late," you hissed, your voice turning sharp, venomous. "You always fail, don't you?"

Hoolay’s blade descended swiftly, and you didn’t flinch. You just stood there, still smiling as the sharp edge came down, slicing through your neck with sickening precision. The sound of flesh tearing and bone cracking filled Jiaoqiu’s ears, louder than anything he had ever heard before.

"NOOO!" Jiaoqiu screamed, his voice raw, his throat burning as the world spun around him. He couldn't bear to watch, but he couldn’t look away.

Your head rolled from your shoulders, hitting the ground with a heavy thud. Your body crumpled, lifeless, the blood pooling around you, a stark contrast to the eerie smile still lingering on your severed face.

Jiaoqiu sobbed, shaking uncontrollably, as Hoolay’s mocking laughter rang out. "Look at her," Hoolay taunted, kicking your head towards Jiaoqiu's feet. "Look at what you let happen."

Jiaoqiu was paralyzed, his mind broken, the sight of your dismembered form seared into his brain. Your head lay inches from him, eyes still open, still staring at him with that unnerving smile.

"I’ll never leave you," your voice whispered, even though your mouth didn’t move. "I’ll haunt you forever… You deserve this, Jiaoqiu. This is what you made me."

Jiaoqiu screamed again, his heart tearing apart as your words echoed endlessly in his mind. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"

But in the nightmare, there was no escape. Hoolay stepped closer, blade dripping with your blood, his grin widening. "You failed her once," he sneered, "and now you’ll keep failing. Over, and over, and over again."

Jiaoqiu's hands clutched at his head, unable to bear the torment. "Please… stop…"

But the nightmare only deepened. Hoolay raised the blade once more, aiming it toward Jiaoqiu this time, his voice cold and final. "It's time for you to join her."

It’s your fault. You let her die.

In the nightmare, your voice echoed, twisted and unnatural, as you stood over him. Headless, your body loomed, holding your severed head in one hand. The blood dripped slowly, pooling beneath you, and your lips—still smiling—moved, whispering something too familiar.

“Jiaoqiu." your voice rasped. “They’ll stuff us both in the secret box… of the goldfish.”

Jiaoqiu’s heart pounded violently in his chest. The words made no sense, but the terror they filled him with was overwhelming. You stepped closer, head dangling from your fingers as if it were nothing more than a toy. The smile on your lips widened, grotesque, and your dead eyes locked onto his.

“They’ll put us together," you continued, "inside that box. You and me… forever.”

Jiaoqiu couldn’t move, couldn’t scream. His body felt frozen, paralyzed by fear. His hands trembled, desperately trying to claw himself out of the nightmare, but it was useless. You bent down, pressing your headless body against his, your cold, bloodstained hands grabbing him, holding him tight.

“We’re going together,” you hissed, your breath cold against his skin. “Inside the box… together.”

He screamed, finally breaking through the silence, but it didn’t stop. Your grip tightened, your bloody fingers digging into his skin, pulling him into the darkness.

Suddenly, the world seemed to collapse. Your body went limp, falling to the floor in a heap of broken limbs. And then, with a chilling whisper, your head rolled toward him, your mouth still moving as it spoke: “It’s a nightmare, Jiaoqiu… Wake up!”

The words jolted him, and Jiaoqiu woke with a gasp, his breath ragged and uneven. His body felt heavy, drenched in cold sweat, his heart still hammering against his ribs. He blinked, expecting to see the comforting glow of light in the room—expecting to see you beside him.

But there was nothing.

Only darkness.

For a moment, Jiaoqiu’s heart stopped. He blinked again, harder this time, trying to adjust his eyes to the blackness that surrounded him. But no matter how many times he tried, no light came. It hit him then, like a punch to the chest: the Tumbledust poison. The nightmare had faded, but the reality remained.

He was blind.

The room felt suffocating, the weight of the darkness pressing in on him, as if the nightmare hadn’t fully let go. Jiaoqiu's breath came quicker, panic rising in his throat. He reached out, his trembling hands searching the bed, the space beside him where you should be. But all he found was emptiness.

“Where… where are you?” he whispered, his voice shaking, as his fingers frantically felt the sheets, the pillow, the empty space. His hands moved faster, desperate to find you, to feel your warmth. But there was nothing.

Jiaoqiu’s mind raced. You were there, he thought. You were right there.

But all he could feel was the cold emptiness of the bed, the sheets crumpled beneath his fingers, his touch finding no trace of you. Fear crept up his spine, his chest tightening with every second that passed.

“Where are you?” he whispered again, louder this time, his voice tinged with desperation. His hands moved in every direction, reaching for the space around him, the nightstand, the floor, anything that could prove you were still here.

Jiaoqiu’s breathing quickened, and panic clawed at his throat as his hands frantically searched the bed. His voice trembled, his desperation rising. "Where are you?" he whispered, louder this time, his heart pounding in the oppressive silence. His mind was spinning, trapped in the darkness, unable to find you, unable to escape the terror gripping him.

Just as he was on the verge of screaming, of losing himself completely to the fear, he felt it—arms wrapping around him from behind, warm and gentle. The familiar scent of you washed over him, grounding him in the present.

“It’s okay,” you whispered softly into his ear, your voice calm and soothing. “I’m right here.”

Jiaoqiu froze, the tension in his body slowly ebbing away as your warmth enveloped him. He exhaled a shaky breath, his heart still racing but slowing, his panic easing.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you continued, your voice a soft murmur. “So I stepped out for a bit. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He was still trembling, still uncertain if this was real or another nightmare. The darkness made everything uncertain. He mumbled, barely able to form words. “Come… kiss me. So I know it’s really you.”

You shifted, moving in front of him, and your lips brushed his—soft, familiar, real. Jiaoqiu exhaled in relief, his body relaxing against you. He clung to you as if you were his lifeline, his grip tight and desperate.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against your lips. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t mean to doubt you. I… I was so scared.”

You smiled softly, stroking his cheek. “It’s fine,” you whispered, kissing his forehead gently. “It’s okay. I’m here now. You’re safe.”

You cradled Jiaoqiu, feeling his breathing slow and deepen as sleep finally claimed him, you tried to follow him into that same restful darkness. But something was wrong. Even in the silence of the night, whispers crept into your ears, soft at first, but growing louder with each passing moment. The voices of countless souls, pleading, moaning, begging for peace.

Their cries sent a chill down your spine. You squeezed your eyes shut, holding Jiaoqiu tighter, as if his warmth could shield you from the cold weight of their voices.

"Help us… free us… give us peace…"

The words wrapped around your mind, echoing endlessly. You could feel the souls crowding around you, unseen but close, their desperation pressing in on you from all sides. Your heart raced as you gritted your teeth, willing the whispers to stop, but they only grew more insistent.

You buried your face against Jiaoqiu, your grip tightening, as though if you held on tightly enough, they wouldn’t be able to touch you. His steady breathing was the only thing anchoring you to this reality. But the voices wouldn’t stop. They wanted something. They needed something from you.

You tried to block them out, tried to convince yourself that it was all in your head. But the feeling of their presence was too strong, too real. Your hands trembled as you clung to Jiaoqiu, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps.

"Release us…"

Your eyes shot open, the darkness around you feeling suddenly alive, shifting and moving with the weight of the spirits. You didn’t dare look. You couldn’t. The fear was too overwhelming, too paralyzing. The souls weren’t leaving you alone. They were here—right here.

Your teeth ground together painfully as you forced your eyes shut again, but the whispers slipped into your mind like cold fingers, clawing at your thoughts. You held back a sob, trying to breathe through the terror.

Jiaoqiu stirred slightly in his sleep, but he didn’t wake, his exhaustion keeping him under. You envied him. You wanted to escape into the same peaceful darkness, but the souls wouldn’t let you. Their demands grew louder, their voices overlapping into a cacophony that threatened to drown out everything else.

You gripped Jiaoqiu so tightly now that your arms ached, your body tense and shaking. You could feel the tears welling up behind your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not now.

But sleep would not come for you. The souls kept you trapped, their whispers pulling you deeper into fear, into the knowledge that you couldn’t help them. You couldn’t even help yourself.

And so you lay there, eyes closed, teeth clenched, shivering in the darkness, too afraid to sleep, too terrified to let go.

[fantaatix]

a stolitz post? in the year of our lord??

warning this is genuinely a long ass post

okay so sometime last month i was watching 3bskyen’s JLMW reaction (really tells you how long i’ve actually been cooking this post), and he was talking about color theory or something but what caught my attention was that he was paused on THIS frame:

he said something about the red/blue contrast throughout the music video; red being symbolic of blitz (the moon) and blue being symbolic of stolas (the ocean (?)) and it got me thinking, i wonder what the gold might symbolize? because this definitely isn’t the first time we’ve seen the color gold in reference to stolitz. first think back to truth seekers, there’s gold in quite a few places

golden rails, golden feathers, golden shackles; this is why i say gold and not yellow. at first i thought it might be symbolic of the power imbalance, but that’d be too easy.

quite the selection of objects, isn’t it? rails imply safety but can also be restricting, the feathers seem harmless but then turn into shackles…possibly reminiscent of the nature the book deal and the role it actually played in blitz’s mind about his relationship with stolas.

but there’s one more thing i left out; the golden dust

...okay...don't laugh...

first time i saw this scene in truth seekers i was immediately reminded of shrek ever after

AND I’M NOT COMPARING BLITZ TO RUMPELSTILTSKIN, i’m not trying to imply they stole from shrek ever after, THAT'D be a stretch. if anything blitz is better compared to shrek himself, but i'm not gonna write about that because i Don't Want To

but if i’m remembering correctly, that movie revolved around the theme of taking good things for granted, like your partner and your friends, which aligns pretty well with how blitz’s bad trip ends:

“i believe your subconscious is trying to tell you that you simply cannot fathom proper intimacy, but also craves it as well. it’s rather unfortunate, sir, considering it’s often how you treat those who stand by you, such as myself. are you worried i may have enough of it one day, as well?”

"you cannot fathom proper intimacy."

blitz doesn’t know how to be close to other people–i don’t think he understands the relationship he has with any of the people in his life.

we still don’t truly know blitz’s full belief on love and we can only deduce it from his actions; he says monogamy is boring but then goes on to stalk his monogamous employees, on their anniversary no less, bringing along his own singular date...

he focuses on the sex in his relationships because that’s what he’s good at; he finds sex less complicated than romance... and then struggles to get his asmodean crystal to open a portal because he can’t get it off.

he has this recurring pattern where the title of “best friend” eventually turns into something else, often unrequited...

“...my first ever friend!”

he didn't expect stolas' intimate attraction to him. stolas made the connection and it succeeded in making blitz feel guilty about stealing the book; that was why he stayed the night. blitz isn't used to not being rejected, even though he has a record of relationships that stopped once the Evil Four Letter Word came up. when he goes into a relationship, blitz has learned to not expect it to evolve past sex. love has negative connotations to him.

the worst part is we don’t know for certain WHY any of this is, or if it can even be chalked down to a singular thing

yeah, his mom died in a fire blitz caused, his best friend/crush lost his limbs in a fire blitz caused, he’s been treated as property since a young age; you can makes all kinds of correlations between these events and how they might have affected him later in life but as it stands now, we have no concrete answers other than the conclusion that blitz hates himself and has commitment issues.

but back onto that “taking things for granted” tidbit–subconsciously, he knows relationships can be good, but he feels he has to give up a lot of freedom in order to maintain one of his own.

also note how blitz is desperately crawling up the staircase, feathers kind of just hitting him haphazardly as he does so, as opposed to trip!moxxie who takes a few steps up after picking up a feather of his own volition. he knows moxxie’s relationship is more stable than any relationship he’s ever had, and yet:

“stop fucking talking, all of you!”

cue the gold dust.

now, i'm not saying the book deal was a good thing. in fact, it kind of reinforced the power imbalance between blitz and stolas. i'm saying that from blitz's perspective, it was a safeguard. any feelings he might have had for stolas before could be dismissed, and he does exactly that one episode prior;

"it's a transactional fucking, you see..."

what i think he does take for granted is the advice “moxxie” gives to him, his attempts to reach out in a meaningful manner, kind of like stolas’ attempts to reach out. he ignores them both; he’s too deep into his own denial.

also, STAIRCASES IN THIS FUCKING SHOW.

why do these fruity little men think so low of themselves and so highly of others??

i guess that's a bit of a rhetorical question, we all know the answer, but. wait. hold on a sec

ohhhh.

OOOHHHH, that's what this post was gonna be about!

i fucking GOT all of you, you thought i could go a post without talking about him you're WRONG and should feel SILLY.

so this was the OTHER thing i realised when watching 3bskyen's JLMW reaction: it follows the same theme as moxxie's bad trip!

JLMW vs. moxxie's bad trip

in helluva boss, we're used to seeing staircases being symbolic of a difference in power or importance, or a staircase to heaven, or a highly anticipated event going wrong *cough cough ozzie's cough full moon cough cough*

however, i think in the context of moxxie’s bad trip and JLMW, it can also be attributed to emotional distance. like stolas, moxxie's also looking for an emotional intimacy/understanding between him and blitz (he spends his whole trip actively trying to get on the same level as him for crying out loud).

this could also fit into blitz's bad trip; he's trying to get on the same level as stolas, but feels like even if he ever did, he'd still be inherently worthless. a "play thing".

he doesn’t know why anyone would want him for anything else, but he’s clearly not all about the hierarchy.

they need to get on the same level as each other emotionally; they need to break the power dynamic, and thats why the book deal had to go.

the difference in the symbolism is that while blitz has a straight and narrow path to trip!stolas, moxxie’s path to trip!blitz is this winding, unguarded staircase. he almost falls off.

now, compared to both of those, stolas’ path is a fucking stroll. albeit an emotionally damaging stroll, but it takes less physical strength.

conclusion; stairs are symbolic of a difference in power, but gold is symbolic of something else.

and there is a power dynamic between moxxie and blitz. it's not like stolas and blitz's dynamic, it's an artificial imbalance; blitz is the boss, moxxie is the employee. and moxxie has his own inferiority complex, which i think plays a role in it too.

the imbalance between stolas and blitz is kind of, unfortunately, inherited. but it's not impossible to manage. of course, stolas doesn't care about where blitz is on the hierarchy, he doesn't care about the hierarchy period. but it's still there. blitz cares because it affects him.

"you will be technically under his jurisdiction, but..."

this was problem one. stolas unintentionally demonstrating his power over blitz. "surprise, i technically made you someone else's property! please love me!" i'm exaggerating but this is definitely not the kind of thing you spring on your partner; they needed to talk about this beforehand, but according to stolas:

"no need for an arrangement, it can just be him and me!"

sigh. the many different ways this night could've gone

this is enough to trigger blitz's fight or flight. he wants to be with stolas, but he doesn't want the freedom to choose to be with him, which is problem two:

because blitz's belief of love is so inherently fucked up,

what are the chances that the very thing stolas gave to blitz to reaffirm his free will was just interpreted as another shackle?

blitz doesn't do commitment; stolas doesn't say "i love you", he doesn't need to. if you love something, you let it go, and if it comes back then it's yours--which happens in the very next episode.

blitz is the first person to mention love.

but if they want to love each other, they have to be equals, which was why the book deal had to go. they can't hold each other to these super high standards because that'd just set themselves up for disappointment. they have to be on the same level.

tldr: they're two sides of the same coin. literally!

color theory for dummies, a brief intermission

fun fact: i actually didn’t learn color theory in an art class, but in a textiles class. we love american education. but anyways, i’m gonna ask you to draw your attention specifically to the complementary colors.

we start the chorus of JLMW in a purpley sort of place, which then shifts into gold, and then into the red/blue contrast.

except red and blue aren’t complete opposites, they’re both primary colors.

if they wanted complete opposites, they could’ve used red and green, or blue and orange, which are admittedly uglier combinations but the point is that stolitz aren’t complete opposites.

however, purple and yellow, or gold, ARE complete opposites; they’re complementary colors. if purple is implied to be symbolic of stolitz together, then could gold imply stolitz apart?

well…no. i think that’s the wrong angle. if they wanted that contrast, they could have left the gold out entirely, because red and blue separate is stolitz apart.

so how are we supposed to deduce what the gold is actually symbolic of? because no, i don’t actually think it’s an extended shrek 4 reference. that kind of exclusively pertains to blitz’s trip.

listening to the lyrics in the gold part;

This unspoken contract

A deed we forged for mutual gain

If that's all this was when you're not here

What is this rooted pain?

I don't care that you're of lower station

Or primed to sate my dark temptations

Why can't you understand? Let me explain

And I'm terrified as I cry

To make these feelings true

What's left for me and my broken heart

If I cannot have you?

a direct mention of the book deal…and another mention of the power imbalance…so i realize am starting to sound insane, but please hear me out.

i think the main theme of helluva boss IS learning to love in spite of damages and traumas and insecurities–not ignoring either of those, but learning to work around them or possibly heal those parts of yourself so you can love someone else effectively. learning from mistakes.

so what if the gold is symbolic of the simple desire of a mutual understanding? or a meaningful connection with someone else?

tying it all back together somehow

both moxxie and stolas want to connect with blitz (in different ways), but for stolas, that means severing possibly the only thing connecting them thus far (the book). for moxxie, that means climbing the staircase and possibly being pushed even further away.

moxxie also has this high opinion of blitz despite all his obvious (and not so obvious) flaws. i think it's partially because of his own inferiority complex, but to him, blitz is the phantom--his scar becomes the mask he hides behind. he knows blitz puts on this loud, crude personality to hide his cracks and keep others away, and has a scarily accurate portrayal of him in his mind.

moxxie wants to be on the same level as blitz, and he knows it's possible to get there, because he's a damaged character himself and he gets it. he's just yet to take the actual first step.

stolas, even in his own imagination, doesn't think it's possible to be emotionally intimate until the deal is broken. he could reach for blitz, but blitz wouldn't reach back. he's not looking. not to mention the literal celestial view he has of blitz in his head.

while stolas can see blitz's damage, he can't fully comprehend it yet, partially because blitz won't give him the chance and partially because stolas isn't damaged in the same way he is. they both had deadbeat dads, but they adapted in different ways.

that's just the way trauma works, you adapt to deal with it, and then have to unadapt those unhealthy coping mechanisms once you're finally safe. it just takes a while for people to realize they're actually safe, and these fruitcakes are no exception.

conclusion? uhh, i don't know, i guess i don't really have one. just. enough with the discourse about these bitches i guess??? just give them each some time, change takes more than two seasons.

i guess i could compare the way the songs are set up but this was supposed to be out like two days ago and it's already 11:45 so. maybe some other time, maybe in a post about moxxie's Interesting taste in musicals

was unfortunately unable to finish the mox vs. fizz masterpost this month but we'll see sometime in the coming months, maybe sometime after the next helluva short comes out. been a bit too busy with school and other social things to have time writing these long asf posts about my skrimblos

okay goodnight o/

[triannel]

HI!!! I adore how you write bill, an my own birthday is tomorrow an im ✨Terrified✨✨,, n was wondering ifff. You could do a sorta angst-fluff where its the readers birthday, but every single one of his birthdays has been awful. And like, now that bills here with the reader he feels like maybe he wont have to Just survive his birthday? That even with his god awful family, it might be ok. Like yeah the meds help, but it doesnt fix anything if the people youre with are why youre fucked yknow? IDK and maybe bill decides to take it upon himself to remove the readers family😋 cant be a neglected middle child w all the responsibilities of the eldest if youre an orphan/J AN I DONT MIND HOW CLOSE YOU STAY TO THIS I LOVE YOUR WRITING ANYWAYS!!

(,,,o n also the reader maybe be a grungey scene kid kinda guy? Lots of piercings, an is more feminine than his parents think he should be, especially as a trans guy, So thats smth. Love bones n bugs and shinies an is like if a dog n crow were a guy,, n supr srry if this is a bad req!! Im jus excited cus i love bill, and im also stressy out cus of my burthdayy >_<“) SO NO PRESSURE TO RESPOND ESPECIALLY IF THIS IS TOO LONG OR ANYTHIMG!!!/gen

-🌙

Hello and Happy Birthday 🌙 anon! I've managed to whip this up and I hope it gives you at least some sort of comfort for today. I really do hope you're situation gets better soon, take care of yourself and have a great day! (Also, don't worry, I never really do mind long asks.)

BirthDate

Oneshot | Bill Cipher x Reader | Fluff/Comfort?

Warnings: Mention of Death, Implied Abuse, Implied Trauma, Implied Bad Birthdays, Bill Cipher lol

Quickly stepping upstairs, you lock yourself in your bedroom, blocking all the noise emenating from downstairs. Exhaling, you drop to your bed, letting yourself relax into comfort of the soft mattress and fluffy pillows.

Only needing rest by this point, you close your eyes. Wanting nothing more than to leave this place behind.

"WHOA, DIDN'T EXPECT TO SEE YOU SO EARLY!" A voice suddenly spoke, booming loudly for you to hear.

Ah yes, there he is. You can't exactly say he's your best pal, but right this moment, you truly do feel more at ease with him than being back there.

"It's honestly been a long day so..." You shrugged for a moment before continuing, "Does it bother you?" You ask, giving a lighthearted smile.

"NOT AT ALL, I WOULDN'T BLAME ANYONE BY WANTING TO MEET YOURS TRULY," he spoke, blinking slowly in a dramatic way to show off his 'impressive looks'.

You chuckle slightly, shaking your head, "I mean, I don't think I'm exactly the one to choose to be here..." speaking your thought aloud just to perhaps tease him a little as you glance at him for a moment before slightly chuckling once more.

You never really did know how you even get to meet him to be honest, he somewhat always manages to show up in your dreams, so overtime you guessed that he might be the one approaching you...That, or it might be because of something else entirely.

For a moment, you thought you saw him become nervous for a second, but maybe it didn't happen at all as you only saw it for less than a second.

"WELL, JUST WANTED TO CHECK HOW YOU'RE DEALING WITH KNOWING YOU'RE ONE YEAR CLOSER TO YOUR DEATH," he flatly said, in a weird, eerie way. He always did love being weird so this type of behaviour wouldn't be uncommon by this point.

"Right... Well, what's the agenda for this time then? Or are you busy?" You ask, avoiding your 'birthday' in question. You'd much rather not talk about your birthday at all to be honest. Not a single one ever went well...

Adjusting his bowtie, he started to speak, "WELL..."

Snapping his fingers, your surroundings completely change.

The rest of your 'dream' went on a relatively good note. Having a cup of tea, playing chess, you both did the usual activities you both would do when meeting in your subconscious mind. But the only thing is that, he seemed to be more...well a bit more charming and noticeably, but only slightly more open to your suggestions on what else to spend time on.

He'd usually take the wheel and drag you through any activity he wants, but this time though, this time he was a bit more...considerate.

Now playing a board game with him, you take the dice and roll it. Getting one, Bill chuckles slightly at your misfortune for a second before taking the dice from you.

He might be treating you like this because it's your birthday, but you'd doubt it... Well at least for now-

"EY, IT'S YOUR TURN TOOTS," he snapped his finger a few times in front of your face.

Chuckling, you mutter an apology before taking the dice. Rolling it in your hands, you then let it go. As the dice lands on the floor, it lands on a six, letting you be the winner for the match.

"Yess, I won!" You raise your arms, smiling back at him.

"CHECK AGAIN." Bill spoke, pointing at your piece. Looking down at the board, you see a newly added tile in front of your piece, moving the finish line out of reach. You raise your eyebrow, giving him the side eye.

"WHAT? I DON'T MAKE THE RULES," he raised his shoulders, smiling mischievously with his eye.

Shaking your head, you chuckled at his silly banter while giving him the dice for his turn.

It's unexpected but, this dorito triangle man truly has made a significance on making your birthday much more bearable. Be it his choice to do it or not, you're honestly just glad to at least have some semblance of joy sprout on this day.

I haven't been able to post for a week because unfortunately I became rlly busy at the moment and it isn't helping that I do tend to procrastinate at times. I'll post more regularly later, but for now at least, I'll post this here. Once again, happy birthday 🌙 anon!

[strayrockette]

His Eyes on Me: Part Three

Masterlist/Part One-Part Two

Summary: The summer festival is in full swing, Natalie and Lacey try to encourage her to talk to Benny. She gets some practice later on in the day.

A/n: This chapter went through SOOOOO many drafts and edits. I'm so glad to get it out of my sight and excited to see your guys' response because yah girl over here could not STAWP gigglin'

The sound of our laughter echoed lightly around us, and the sweetness of vanilla ice cream melted on my tongue as I half-listened to Natalie and Lacey giving me what they called “The Benny Crash Course.”

It was their latest attempt to prepare me for any future run-ins with the guy who’d been on my mind a little too much since we’d met. Every day since our awkward first encounter, my thoughts had drifted back to his piercing blue eyes and the calm way he’d answered my question, like he had no problem just staring at me. It was disarming, to say the least.

"Next time you see him, talk to him," Natalie urged, her eyes serious but her lips twitching with a smirk. "Just be your normal, funny self. You’ll be fine."

I couldn’t help but snort into my ice cream, leaning forward and shrugging with exaggerated comical disbelief. “Or I could… you know… run away? Worked last time.”

Lacey burst out laughing, nearly spilling her own ice cream. “No, no! Talk. You will use words,” she teased, giving me a dramatic point with her spoon, her expression all mock seriousness.

I straightened up, tapping my chin thoughtfully as if considering something very serious. “Or…” I drawled, leaning back with a mischievous grin, “I could not talk to him. Save myself the embarrassment. That sounds pretty ideal.”

Both Natalie and Lacey stopped in their tracks, giving me the most synchronized deadpan expression I’d ever seen. “Absolutely not,” they said in perfect unison, their matching glares enough to make me crack up.

I sighed and playfully threw my hands up in surrender. “I don’t know, pretending he doesn’t exist seems like the best plan. Ignoring problems always works, right?”

Lacey shook her head, barely containing a smile. “Oh yeah, because pretending a tall, handsome guy who’s clearly into you isn’t real? Great strategy"

Natalie was a bit more direct. “You’re doing that thing again—acting like you’re not interested when we both know you’ve been thinking about him.”

I shot her a half-hearted glare but couldn’t hold back the smile tugging at my lips. They weren’t wrong, as much as I hated to admit it. “He makes me nervous"

“Sweet pea,” Lacey said, sidling up beside me and throwing an arm over my shoulder, “it’s okay to be nervous but trust me. The next time you see Benny, you’ll be fine. Just don’t run away like you did last time.”

Our conversation faded as we walked aound the park. Hopping around as we enjoyed the summer sun and the activities the festival offered. The park was alive with excitement—bright lights strung up along the trees, the sound of a live band playing upbeat tunes, and the sweet smell of cotton candy and caramel wafting through the air. The whole scene felt like something out of a postcard, the kind of night where you could forget about everything else and just get lost in the moment. Lacey and Natalie had wandered off to check out one of the game booths, and I had strayed from them, my eye on the cotton candy stand at the edge of the festival.

My stomach growling at the sight of the pink, fluffy treat. The line had dwindled, and as I stepped up, I fumbled around in my purse for some change. Of course, everything but money seemed to surface—lipstick, an old movie ticket, gum wrappers. I sighed in frustration, digging deeper as the vendor waited patiently. The music from the band drifted through the warm night air, and I could hear people laughing and enjoying the festival behind me.

Just as I found the coins I was searching for, someone slid in beside me. The movement was so casual, like they had been standing there all along, but it caught me off guard. Their chest brushed against the back of my shoulder, and I froze as the scent of cologne, leather, and cigarettes hit me all at once. It was familiar, intoxicating in a way that sent my heart into overdrive before I even looked up.

I knew who it was before I turned my head. Benny.

Benny didn’t say anything as I looked up at him, his expression unreadable, and cool. My brows furrowed slightly, caught off guard by the sight of him in a place like this. He didn’t seem like the type to be at a festival—too rough around the edges, too… out of place in a crowd full of families and kids. I hadn’t expected a guy like him to show up somewhere so bright, so cheerful. He didn’t exactly blend into the backdrop of laughter and neon lights. He dropped coins into the vendor's hands.

My eyes flickered to the vendor, who was holding out the cotton candy I’d ordered. His hand was expectant, and I blinked, shaking myself out of my thoughts. With a quick smile, I mumbled a quiet, “Thanks,” to the vendor and grabbed the candy, stepping away as I tried to maneuver around Benny.

“Thanks for paying,” I added quietly, not daring to look up at him as I said it. My voice came out a little too soft, the words awkward and uncertain. Something about him made me feel disoriented like I couldn’t quite think straight when he was this close. I tried to draw some encouragement from Lacey's earlier words, you'll be fine, just don't run.

Without a word, Benny fell into step beside me, moving as if it were the most natural thing in the world. His hand settled gently on my lower back, a touch so casual, so familiar like it had always been there. My heart raced at the contact, a mix of confusion and nerves surging through me. Why was he even bothering? He didn’t know me—not really—but he sure acted like he did.

I could feel the warmth of his hand through the thin fabric of my dress, and it made it hard to focus on anything but the steady thrum of my pulse. I didn’t understand what he wanted—why he was even here, walking with me like we had some kind of history. It felt… strange. And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to pull away.

I stopped walking, turning slightly so I could glance up at him, my heart still pounding in my chest. “Why are you here?” I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop it. It wasn’t accusatory, just… curious. I couldn’t figure him out. Benny seemed like the kind of guy who belonged in smoky bars or speeding down empty highways, not standing beside me at a festival, surrounded by kids and balloons.

He looked down at me, his gaze steady, cool as ever, but he didn’t answer right away. The silence stretched out, the sounds of the festival fading into the background as we stood there, just the two of us, the world shrinking around us.

Finally, he spoke, his voice soft but tinged with amusement. “I could ask you the same thing.”

His words hung in the air, and I hesitated for a moment, the weight of his gaze making my stomach flutter. A small part of me wanted to retreat, to let the nerves win and shy away. But instead, I found myself pushing through, the edges of a playful smile tugging at my lips. You'll be fine...

“Well,” I said, my voice trying for cheeky but betraying a bit of my nerves, “I’m wondering what a big tough biker guy like you is doing at a festival. Not exactly your scene, right?”

The moment the words left my mouth, I felt a surge of both relief and anxiety. I’d said it—teasing him, pushing back a little, trying not to get lost in my nerves. But still, I couldn’t shake the rush of heat that crept up my neck, the way my heart thudded against my ribs as I waited for him to respond.

Benny’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile, and his hand, still resting lightly on my back, pressed just a bit more firmly.

“Maybe I just like cotton candy,” he said, his voice low and teasing, that playful glint in his eyes making my heart skip a beat.

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. “No, try again,” I said, my nerves starting to fade as I tilted my head slightly, my eyes twinkling as I looked at him.

Benny’s smile widened, just a little, but enough to show me he was enjoying this just as much as I was. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping an octave, his breath warm against my ear as he spoke again. “No,” he repeated slowly, his eyes locked on mine. “I didn’t want you slipping through my fingers again.”

My breath hitched at his words, my heart racing, but the smile on my face didn’t falter. I bowed my head attempting to hide away from his eyes.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” Benny said, his voice low, teasing, but with an edge that made my heart flutter.

The words sent a jolt through me, my cheeks flushing a deep pink before I could even think of how to respond. I tried to play it off, brush it aside, but the warmth spreading across my face was undeniable. The familiar nervous energy surged inside me, and an embarrassed giggle slipped out before I could stop it. Instinctively, I raised a hand to cover my face, as if that would somehow hide how completely flustered I felt.

His gaze—intense, unwavering—was too much. Too close. The way his words lingered between us left my mind spinning and struggling to catch up. I let out a soft laugh, more to relieve the tension in my chest than anything, and spun on my heels, desperately trying to regain some semblance of composure.

But Benny wasn’t about to let me slip away that easily.

I heard his footsteps behind me—steady, deliberate, as if he knew there was no point in rushing. Within moments, his long strides caught up with mine effortlessly, and suddenly he was beside me again, walking in step with me like it was the most natural thing in the world. His presence was magnetic, pulling me in despite my best efforts to distance myself. The space between us felt heavy, charged with something unspoken but impossible to ignore.

“You’re runnin' away again?” he asked, amusement dancing in his voice.

I shook my head, laughing softly despite the fact that my heart was still racing in my chest. I glanced over at him, the teasing smile still lingering on my lips. “What? A tough guy like you can’t handle a good chase?” I raised an eyebrow, adjusting my grip on the cotton candy, trying to keep my voice steady despite the wild fluttering of butterflies in my stomach.

Benny’s smirk deepened, and his eyes glinted with that playful spark that always made me feel both nervous and excited at the same time. “Oh, I can handle it,” he said, his voice low, smooth, as he stepped a little closer. “But you’re not making it much of a chase.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I could feel the warmth of his body brushing against mine as we walked. Our steps fell perfectly in sync.

I laughed again, there was something so intoxicating about the way he moved beside me, the way he spoke, the way he looked at me.

“Now that you mention it,” I said, tapping my chin thoughtfully, trying to regain some control over the situation, “I think it’s about time for me to run away again. Catch me later?”

I flashed him a playful smile, my heart still pounding as I looked up at him through my lashes. It was a half-joke, half-challenge, and I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks again.

Benny’s smirk widened, his eyes darkening with something that sent my heart racing even faster. “You can try,” he murmured, his voice soft but sure, his gaze locking onto mine with that quiet intensity that made it feel like time had slowed down.

I swallowed hard, my breath catching in my throat as his words settled over me. I glanced down at the cotton candy in my hand, suddenly hyperaware of everything—the warmth radiating off him, the way our steps still moved in perfect harmony, and the fact that, deep down, I didn’t want to run. Not really.

“So what?” I stopped, turning to face him fully, standing even closer now. My heart pounded in my chest, but I didn’t pull away. “You gonna follow me around all night”

Benny stepped closer, his chest nearly brushing against mine, his gaze never wavering. His hand hovered near my arm, not quite touching, but close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him. My breath hitched as his presence filled the small space between us.

“Maybe,” he said, his voice softer now, lower, the teasing lilt fading into something more serious, more deliberate. “If that’s what it takes to keep you from running.”

"You're serious" The weight of his words dawning on me. I laughed, "Why would you waste your time following me around?"

His lips curled into that familiar smirk, but it was softer this time, more genuine. “Who says it’s a waste of time?” he replied smoothly, his voice low and calm, like he had the whole thing figured out and was just waiting for me to catch on.

My heart was pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it. The air around us had shifted, pulling us closer together, and I couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like if I leaned in just a little more if I closed the distance between us. My eyes flickered to his lips for the briefest second before I caught myself, but not quickly enough.

Benny noticed. Of course, he noticed. His smirk softened into something more real, more genuine, and his gaze held mine, steady and unwavering. My face flushed again, and I glanced down at the cotton candy in my hand, trying to gather my thoughts.

“What if I said ‘please, don’t follow me?’” I asked, tilting my head and biting my lip, hoping he’d let me off the hook. But Benny just chuckled, a low, warm sound that vibrated through me, shaking his head as if the very idea was amusing.

I laughed nervously, looking away from him and back at the carnival lights, trying to find some relief from the tension building between us. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” I muttered, shaking my head.

Benny just shrugged, effortlessly calm, like he had all the time in the world. “Maybe.”

“So what, you follow me all night,” I continued, turning back to him, still caught up in the strange, magnetic pull of this moment. “And then what? How does that end?” I asked, my voice soft, curious, but underneath, there was something else—a question I didn’t know how to fully ask.

He didn’t answer right away, silence thick with anticipation.

“Guess we’ll have to find out,” he finally said, his voice soft but firm, the promise of something more hidden in those words.

“No,” I said, my voice soft but steady, a smile curling at my lips as I shook my head. “Can we skip the whole following me around thing and just get to the point?”

For a split second, something shifted in Benny’s expression. Maybe it was surprise, or amusement, but it quickly faded into that calm, confident look he always wore. He stepped closer, and I held my breath, fighting the urge to run away.

His voice dropped, low and rough, like gravel under a boot. “Get to the point, huh?” His eyes flickered to my lips for just a beat before locking back onto mine, his gaze unwavering. “And what exactly do you think the point is, peach?”

The intensity of his stare, the unspoken implication behind his words, sent a rush through me that I wasn’t prepared for. My mind blanked, and for a second, I couldn’t think. His presence, his closeness, the way he was looking at me—it all felt like too much and not enough at the same time.

I glanced around, trying to gather my thoughts, the carnival lights blurring in my peripheral vision. My feet rocked slightly as I shifted my weight, searching for the words, for anything that wouldn’t make me seem completely out of my depth. But all I could do was feel the charge between us, my pulse racing in time with the chaos swirling in my chest.

“I don’t know,” I finally said, my voice breathy, my heart pounding harder as I looked back at him. A grin slowly spread across my lips, my pulse daring me to play along, to push back against the tension. “But I hope you can keep up.”

Before he could respond, I turned on my heel, my grin widening as I dashed into the crowd, slipping through the throngs of people. The sound of carnival games and laughter swirled around me as I moved, my adrenaline spiking with every step. I didn’t dare look back, but I could feel the heat of his gaze on me, feel the thrill of whether or not he’d follow.

A part of me hoped he would.

As I weaved through the crowd, the lights flickering overhead, I could feel my heart still pounding, a rush of excitement buzzing through my veins.

-

“YOU RAN AWAY AGAIN!” Lacey screeched, her voice echoing through the living room. I shrunk deeper into the couch, my cheeks burning as I fidgeted with my fingers, trying to suppress a giggle.

“…maybe,” I muttered, unable to keep the smile from spreading. But the memory of darting away from Benny had me both embarrassed and oddly excited.

“This is no laughing matter!” Lacey was losing it now, pacing in front of me like a storm about to break. “YOU LITERALLY HAD HIM RIGHT THERE, AND YOU RAN!”

Natalie, far less dramatic, swung her feet lazily in the air as she lay on the floor flipping through a magazine. Without even glancing up, she smirked and said, “I bet he’ll tie you down next time he sees you.”

I bit my lip, my stomach doing a flip at the thought. “That’s not... no, he wouldn’t,” I protested, but the way my pulse quickened at the idea told a different story.

Lacey stopped pacing long enough to level me with an incredulous look. “Oh, he absolutely would. After the stunt you pulled? I don’t think he’s going to let you slip away so easily next time.”

I hugged a pillow to my chest, my mind racing back to the way Benny had looked at me, the way he’d closed the space between us with just a look, how he was right there, and I still ran. “I panicked,” I mumbled, more to myself than to them.

“You panicked?” Lacey threw her hands up. “Girl, if he had looked at me like that, I’d have thanked him.”

Natalie chuckled from her spot on the floor. “I think you liked running. Adds to the chase.” She shot me a knowing look, and I sank further into the couch, burying my face in the pillow.

Maybe she was right.

Taglist: @prettybubblesintheair, @storiesfromafan, @aleemendoza2425-blog, bellesdreamyprofile (I figured you would like to blush some more 😉💕peachcobblerinmymumsbasement

[alavit]

Happy Nation (PART I).

Summary: A man will die, but not his ideas. Max’s Delicatessen is a place where only the lowest end, having gave up on solving a problem far too heavy for their shoulders, there— a new comer discovers an old face.

Tags: Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader, Reader is kind of very mentally unwell, Fluff, Chaos, Five needs a hug, Y/n is taller than Five. TW: religious imagery, obsessive behavior from all of the Fives honestly and more to come.

Authors note: my hatred for season 4 can never subdue unless I let it out, since there’s infinite timelines— I found it funny to think of there being one where five dies and y/n is the one who survives but immediately gave up without him.

Side Note: the title is very much taken from Happy Nation by Ace of Base, you can also read this on ao3. I had a lot of fun, the Fives’ dynamics with y/n was my favorite thing to plan out, taglist open! Not beta read.

“You suck at chess, oh my god.” A voice calls out, laughing. “I wasn’t even trying, love, tell him so.” Another answer, this time sat by you, you don’t pay it much mind. Multiple voices come from around you, the usual chatter of the diner now a common scene on the wider canvas that was the mess going on, in itself, you had seen this coming when you agreed to stay there.

Granted, it was incredibly scary at first. But after stepping back and grasping the choices you had, you came to the conclusion that this was better than the alternative— why yes, because mourning? That was not in your chords. Barely allowing yourself to express your feelings had been the cause of your lover’s doom, after-all.

“You’re a sore loser.” You say, watching as he pouts at you and the other party began to laugh— all in good heart, you know he knows. All too happy, they’re all too content with having you here to dare actually be upset with you, for, one’s demise was their ultimate paradise.

You’ve heard countless tales by now, from you dying by the handler to simply you not existing at all in their world. The first day had been a disaster, a chorus of your own confusion and fright upon having stumbled upon the very face you had lost moments prior.

That was scary, thinking back on it— maybe not as scary as them being so infatuated with you but terrifying nonetheless.

“Play against me next, we’ll see if you’re-.” You offer, or well, were going to. Though that offer will have to be fulfilled another time— the sound of the door and the shift of atmosphere never goes unnoticed, especially not by you. You know of a newcomer when you feel it, another confused unfortunate soul. The Fives around you stare at you as you turn around, following your movements as your eyes land on the more than familiar face.

Getting up, you smile at Brisket before heading towards the Five still standing by the door— quickly followed by another one as you open your mouth. “Okay,” you begin. “Don’t freak out, okay? Don’t freak out.” That came across with more panic than you’d have intended.

“You’re the one freaking him out.” Another one joins in and you swear you can feel your eyes twitch. “I’m trying to help, you’re the one not offering the poor boy a seat, don’t antagonize me!” You retort, carefully smiling at the very much confused Five— he looks nothing short of a mess, eyes puffy and frustration etched on his face.

Oh. OH.. you think you know what went down, and, you don’t really like the aforementioned possibility that scenario would bring.

You’re more than sure you’ve died, well, not the you that stands before him and probably is bringing said man so close to the edge but you regardless. You’ve gotten used to it by now, being a compass to a newly awakened Five.

The realization that there’s no saving, early, because you don’t exist in that reality or rather late and even more crushing with the explanation of your death for it— this is not your 28th rodeo, but it sure isn’t your first.

“Hey,” you call out, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m okay, you’re okay, dearest.” He wants to choke at the use of the nickname, but he looks slightly more comfortable compared to before.

You think at some point, you offer him a seat— and despite him not truly wanting you to leave, he listens to whatever alternate of him has sat at his table, your attention quickly grabbed by another Five, typical.

“Curious?” One asks you while you hum, offering you a sandwich, you answer with a smile before shrugging. “Aren’t you too?” You retort and he smiles. “Just in the tiniest, he looked crazed seeing you.” You both stare at each other. “-and I think we both have an idea why.” He finishes, ruffling your head as though you are the clueless one here and he is more aware.

Perhaps, he is, you don’t question it.

- -

“Y/n.” You blink, pulled away from the chess game when Five (as in, of course, the new one)— asks to sit by you and by proxy, the others him. God you truly do need to continue attempting in finding them all nicknames. “Yeah,” you agree, lightly smiling, silently indicating that it’s ok.

“Like looking through a mirror, isn’t it?” You joke, disregarding the previous activity before staring at him. “Sorry, by the way for you know— me.” Quickly putting that aside, you’re pinched, whereas the new Five looks concerned the others simply shake his head. “This is normal by the way.” One (Daisy) remarks as he takes a seat, beaming at you.

Daisy might have seemed an odd nickname, but it had made sense to you from the moment your eyes landed on him— like Brisket.

“It’s scary to lose someone.” You sat by Five(?), sliding a sandwich in front of his face as his brows furrowed— he wasn’t hungry, but he doubts you’d let him starve. “I don’t like seeing you like this.” You add, carefully inching your hand close to your face, wiping away a vacant tear.

You hadn’t asked much questions, it felt too odd at the time— but you remember the enthusiasm and speed at which he had agreed to the nickname.

(Rubbing it in the others’ faces that you hadn’t given them a nickname yet. That he got one, though, that went unnoticed by you).

“Mhhh..” you tapped your fingers on the table, ignoring how intently he had been staring— a smile on your face when you finally met his gaze, grinning.

“Daisy.” You finally said, watching how his expression faltered and inched into confusion for a moment before a small smile overtook his features. “Daisy..?” He echoed, lightly giggling.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “..I need to come up with nicknames for you guys, Brisket is well, Brisket— so you can be Daisy, that’s fine right?” You shyly(?) asked, and he shook his head— humming.

“Daisy it is. Thank you, dearest.”

(And so begin your quest for fitting nicknames, some.. better than others).

“Daisy?” The new Five questions, only met with a soft smile from his alternate— something is fishy about him, unlike a man that possibly as seen horrors— he looks like all he’s ever confronted is having to not help an old lady cross a road. “Daisy.” The owner of the title answers, shaking his head before laughing. “Don’t worry, it sounds weird to the tongue until you get used to it!”

But why Daisy? The new addition ponders, and when said Five sees you’ve been snatched away and are not watching— he answers what the other him seemed to have been questioning.

“You know flower language?” Daisy asks, watching as he’s given a complexed look. “New beginnings, joy.. purity.” Things that shouldn’t be applied to him, to any Five really.

“She thinks that of me, she sees me as one of the brightest of us here.” He proudly adds, before shaking his head. “Let’s get you something to eat, Friend.”

- -

He could never forget her, how sweet everything had seemed despite the odds that brought them together. Daisy had lost everything, he too once was aimlessly trying to save his family and when he found the key to it all, she had vanished with no regards.

That’s how it always begin with every Five, he had been told when he was a newcomer. The price of peace almost always comes with something, a life, your life.

Still, it was all the more disorientating to see you playing chess against.. himself? He had grasped the concept of the diner, but it didn’t make it all the more stressful. “Is that..?” Another one notices, humming while eating a sandwich. “Oh? Yeah, that’s Y/n.” He blankly comments, walking off with a wave. “We don’t really know how the timeline went,” Another Five adds, looking at him. “But she’s here instead of another one of us, a dream come true, nah?”

Maybe.

After a few hours, he had gotten the courage to approach you— you looked roughen up, annoyed and sleep deprived, adjectives that should’ve only applied to him.

You had looked cute nonetheless, you’d always look gorgeous to him, to them.

- -

“You get used to it at some point, trust me.” You lazily sat by the new Five, watching him with amusement before tapping your chin. What nickname could you give him? You wondered. So far, he had shown himself to mentally unwell, excepted after witnessing someone’s death.

(Even more so with the added factor of seeing the very same woman before him, he didn’t seem cheerful like daisy nor carefree like Brisket— but altogether not gloomy like Reaper usually was).

He seemed to follow the flow of things, often needing guidance from the others to understand what he could and couldn’t do here, though honestly, you don’t recall there being rules.

“Sheep.” You settled on, watching as his head tilted to the side— blinking at you with big doe eyes. “Sheep?” He questioned, not noticing how the others perked up— was this something important? He was like a deer in headlights.

“…isn’t sheep a cute name?” Oh. He slightly flushed, nodding before the situation finally settled in.

“It’s okay.” He agreed, watching as you brought your arm around his shoulders— ruffling his hair as you hummed and offered a smile he knew all too well, except this one wasn’t sad, not worried about the upcoming doom that could’ve been met.

He liked this.

“Welcome, Sheep.” You laughed, the greetings echoed by a few others— he wonders how many of them you’ve managed to nickname, surely not all, he’s pleasantly surprised at the fact he got one so early. He feels content.

It brings a sense of individualism, like he’s more than just another version to him— and that’s true, you make sure to remember which one you’re talking to, know almost every Five that hasn’t came to play chess or poker with you.

..it just makes him all the more curious about what happened in your universe, that he doesn’t say, a couple of cards are given his way by another him (Ruby? He thinks?).

“You’re playing too? Dearest?” Another one calls out, and you shake your head— bringing him closer to you, right, your arm around his shoulder.. it’s oddly reassuring.

“Ah! No thanks, i’ll watch you all battle instead.” You joke, whispering in Sheep’s ear, a shiver running down his spine. “Hope you’re not a sore loser like them.”

And he smiles, just the slightest.

Because then, everyone is trying to get you to take that back while others simply smile– the sound of bickering almost comforting, and somehow, he gets it.

This odd way of life brings something, a not so foreign feeling, the same as when he was with you— is right now.

It’s happiness, one brought to him so weirdly, but indeed there.

He wonders how much he can get out of Daisy or Ruby when you’re chatting away, he can’t deny he loves you, whether it’s the mourning or not.

And so, as much as the idea of sharing makes him puke— Five observes, burrowing himself in your warmth as you both lean your heads together.

He feels so warm.

written by alavit — do not translate nor copy my works.

[meraki-yao]

Hello dear!! 🫶

For ficlet Friday, can I get 💃 for Taynick and/or 🎤 for firstprince? 🙏🙏

Hi love! Sorry I'm late, but thank you for the prompt

💃 First Dance (playing it a little loose with this prompt)

The cameras aren’t rolling, but they’re swaying. The two of them were left alone in the centre of the room while Matthew and the rest of the crew checked the footage and worked the camera. It’s far past the middle of the night now, and the sunlight will be chasing them in a couple of hours. Everyone’s getting tired, but they’re also determined to get this ironic scene right. That doesn’t mean they’re not gonna take every break they can get. Nick’s energy level is depleting. No one else can tell, the cameras definitely are not going to notice that, there’s only Taylor who’s spending the night holding him in his arms and staring into his eyes that can see when Nick’s eyelids droop a little when Matthew yell cut, the way his whole body sinks into the ground when they’re waiting for the clipboard sound. Taylor leans into Nick’s space and whispers, “Hey. Lean on me.” “Huh?” Nick blinks blearily. It’s unreasonably cute. “Come on, you’re tired. Lean on me and get some rest.” “Tay we’re in the middle of filming,” Nick chuckles, but obliges and rests his head on Taylor’s shoulder, not unlike how Henry did earlier. He yawns. “Yeah and they’re not gonna be done in the next five minutes.” Taylor rests his hand on Nick’s lower back, arm wrapped around his waist, it’s a position they find themselves increasingly familiar with. He feels Nick’s little puffs of breaths against his neck, indulging in the gentle tickle. Nick weight against him is comforting, grounding, and he understands why Alex never wants Henry to leave his arms. It was getting easier and easier to slip into Alex, to find that electric part of him where TZP and ACD overlap, and sink into Alex’s soul, the first son, the fighter, the prince’s lover. But with that comes Alex’s love for Henry, and Taylor is finding it increasingly harder to step out of that. He and Nick are not Alex and Henry. That much is clear to both of them. Taylor is not the first son who always has a fire under his ass, and Nick is not a prince locked in his tower. But just like Alex and Henry, they match. They clicked together immediately, an inexplicable sense of comfort and fondness forming immediately, the back and forth, the thoughts and banters, the giggles and laughter, the trust and care growing so naturally. The lines where Alex and Henry end and Taylor and Nick begin are blurring, and they both can feel it, they just made an unspoken agreement to not talk about it until they wrap.   But with this moment between them, quiet and warm in the V&A, where Alex and Henry made up their minds, with Nick’s head slotted on his shoulder, it doesn’t feel uncertain or scary anymore, it feels right. Taylor interlaces his hands with Nick’s, copper against porcelain, and lifts it up into a waltz position, and starts swaying. Nick hums, but doesn’t move from where he’s nestled against Taylor. Taylor starts softly singing and Nick joins in, no cameras, no director, no acting. Just them two. It’s new, it’s something a little different, but no less enticing. Oh, Taylor can’t wait to explore this.

I'm not sure if I made it clear or not, but the idea is that it's Taynick's first dance as Taynick instead of Firstprince? But my brain kind of trailed off 😅 And I have an idea for the Firstprince prompt! But my time management is a fucking mess so I'll have to get to it later

[sskk-manifesto]

Bungou Stray Dogs: Dead Apple and how “ability users” (opposite to “normal people”) learning to accept themselves through the acceptance of their own abilities is a queer metaphor of acceptance of own's sexual orientation and gender: an essay by me

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

I'm so sorry I'm pretty sure your bard au is supposed to be serious but oh my god I couldn't help but get strong Men In Tights and Monty Python and the Holy Grail vibes

Especially bc of Barnaby I would not put it past him to make a "your mom's a hamster" reference

no no it Is very silly. how can it not be when you've got the neighbors as the characters? silly central. ALSO YOU'RE SO RIGHT VERY STRONG MP&HG VIBES I FUCKING LOVE THAT MOVIE HERE'S SOME REFERENCES

but it is also real. when it's silly its silly and when it's serious!

it's serious.

[ups3tti]

It is a stupidly big deal to me that Morro returned to the Monastery of spinjitzu during DOTD. He didn't go back there for all of Possession, but finally, even after it had been burned down and despite the fact that he is a ghost/mannequin with the clock ticking he still went home to Wu and to the Monastery. He even only went back after finding the Tomb of the First Spinjitzu Master like he said he would and all the terrible things thereafter. Why am I so torn up about this what is happening

[fujii-draws]

OKAY! Chatot rant in tags below! Read at your own discretion.

[dazais-guardian-angel]

kinda wild to me that one of the most compelling aspects of both Chuuya and Kunikida's characters to me, that I never really see talked about, is how they're heavily set on a doomed crash course towards complete and utter destruction, and how I am so, so worried for them both.....

[svampira]

i still think jjk would have been 90% better if they'd made sukuna funny

[pixelfont52]

earthbound

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

So I was reading articles about John Hurt (as I do when I procrastinate on life in general lol) and I saw a still shot of a movie I’ve never seen still shots of before; so I looked it up. It’s a play. I was worried I wouldn’t find it in full online; but I did, so here it is in all its glory:

He’s just… ugh I want to gently hold his face in my hands he’s just so sad and lonely with his weepy voice and eye bags. I couldn’t process half of what he said but I think this is a warning about always speed-running through life to get to the next good thing. We should appreciate the moment; because in the end, we’ll have nothing at all but our memories. If we rush through life, we won’t have any memories to keep us warm at night when the chill of death creeps up on us in our old age.

Also, spool, spooooooooooollll…….

spoooooooooooooooooooooolllllll [cackles in mentally unstable]

@kaleidoscopr @theindo @possessedbydevils @randomtwospirit

[candycryptids]

Quick! Your OCs are being dragged to the dancefloor by a friend - how do they react? Does the amount of people around influence that reaction? Or the kind of music played maybe?

GHFNFJDJFHB!? What a fun question omfg

Chuu has a vice grip on the sofa she’s sitting on if there’s more than 5 people at a party lmao. She’s not gettin up. N o p e. (Can sometimes be lured out onto the dance floor with a Waltzing number, but will rarely stay for longer than 2 songs before she’s found a way to slither out of being an active party participant. She’d rather chill and eat snacks and watch OTHER people look silly on the dance floor.)

Tuesday is ecstatic to be invited to the dance floor- but he only really knows how to do the stuffy Ishgardian Ball Dance when he first gets invited out to a party lmfao. The amount of people present doesn’t really impact his willingness to come out to the dance floor, but once he learns more ways to dance or even how to just, ‘feel it’ and make it up as he goes he gets much more excited about dancing to upbeat or quicker songs. He is Very good at not stepping on Toes :) (almost as if somebody didn’t want to deal with smushed toes…. 🤔)

Tangy is so zazzed to dance. She is…. Not the best at ballroom dancing or like, whatever you wanna call a couples dance, so. Watch your toes! It doesn’t matter how many people are there but being the center of attention can be kinda daunting :’> she’d rather dance to more upbeat music than slow dances so she’ll probs bow out for drinks and a snack during those to take a breather sjfjdkfs … pls also imagine her doing classic ‘dad’ dance moves or something from the Peanuts x3 [cut cos it’s Long 🫢]

….. 🤔 Ishi will gladly dance with a friend (or friends!) at smaller gatherings- and even invite others out to the floor x3 but at bigger more official events? She’s probably grateful for the excuse to step away from whatever Politically Charged Chat she’s been roped into regarding allied tribes or intercity relations. (She isn’t trained in dance, but will readily learn and follow somebody else’s lead •v•)

Mochiie is someone who’s reluctant to take an invite to the dance floor no matter how many people are present if there’s already people dancing and there’s not much space. He’s uh… conscious of his tail. (Poor guy sent a lalafellin couple sprawling once when he got tangled up in his feet, so he tries to be Overly Cautious now)

😂 Colette will indulge a friend in a dance, and relies more on being able to lift/twirl/dip her dance partner for flair - it’s an All-Eyes-On-Them situation. If Eorzean weapons didn’t have a habit of cracking under the pressure she’d probably be a tank. She prefers music with dramatic flair, to match her flashy dancing style. She laughs a lot more when it’s a Smaller group, there’s less performance pressures 🤧 (I should REALLY pose her dancing with Setsuna at some point… I’ll have to bug my partner for some files x3)

🤔🤔🤔 Levraut was the hardest for me to figure out. He’s classically trained in Ishgardian Dance? But he hates it. He thinks the whole thing looks silly, and he’s not so into huge parties (since they’re usually hosted by The Rich And Influential And Expect A Certain Class Of People yk) … he’d be a hilarious ‘sexy lamp’ for someone to dance with though… I think it would take him some time to feel comfortable dancing in the center of everything but he wouldn’t mind kinda grooving in place around the edges.

Until he’s 5 cups in. And then you have to haul him off the dance floor before he makes more of a fool of himself than he currently is, and tries to start a fight with the Violinist, because it quote ‘sounds like you’re killing the cat what made the strings all over again’ (regardless of if that’s true or not; a drunken Lev craves Rowdy Brawling and will Incite It)

… 🤨 I think that’s everyone if only because I don’t have a solid idea what the Trio would be like in a Party situation