#and he isn't ashamed because he doesn't think of this as particularly exceptional

[spacebarbarianweird]

Oooh! Chronic depression Tav sounds right up your alley! I'm also chronically depressed and I have a similar living condition (messy room, not the horrific torture) to Astarion. Maybe a Tav who can empathize with his messy tent and his depression?

Oh yes, this hits my alley! I was diagnosed with anxiety disorder and depression a while ago plus it seems like I had a severe depression when I was 12-19 years old (but I wasn't taken to any specialists back then).

TW: Anxiety and depression come in different forms, my therapists always told me that I have a weird skill to look absolutely normal meanwhile tests show signs of severe depression. I've based this headcanon on my own experience.

TW 2: A suicide attempt, depression.

Astarion x Depressed!Tav

Masterlist

Headcanons

You feel off.

Something was utterly wrong with you for the last few years.

You barely eat, sleep too much

Decision-making is difficult as fuck, and you just do what you are told to.

The time is slipping through your fingers and you sometimes realize it's already winter when it was summer a day ago.

You feel like drowning in the dark void.

Maybe you should just end everything? Because life will never get better.

The tadpole suppresses your condition.

You suddenly feel good. You feel strong. You feel alive.

And the Emperor is particularly adamant that you embrace the tadpole potential.ccepting the tadpole potential.

"Remember how bad you felt before? It will get worse if you deny the tadpole. Once it's gone, your mind will drown in darkness again. But accept my offer, and you will never suffer again."

You recognize familiar patterns in Astarion's behavior.

His inability to make decisions.

The mess he made of his tent.

The way he sometimes sits and stares in the distance not moving at all.

That he doesn't really read, staring at the papers with mindless eyes.

Or quickly turning pages without understanding what is written there.

Or an extreme degree of anhedonia. He cannot taste wine or food, his senses are dulled, and nothing brings him joy except blood and sex (both of which have been unavailable to him for centuries).

You want to accept the tadpole. You don't want to go back to where you were. He doesn't want to either.

But when you take the astral tadpole, Astarion knocks it out of your hands and smashes it.

"You're in no condition to make decisions like that, dear," he says, grabbing your arm.

Neither is he.

You fear to have the tadpole removed.

When it is gone, it's worse than you expected.

You can't move. Can't think. The void is killing you.

You don't want to talk to anyone. You can't do anything. The only thing you are capable of is to crawl into the inn and lie there like in a coffin.

It will never get better.

Maybe, you should just off yourself?

And Astarion's absence only proves your thoughts. He isn't there, he's left. He doesn't need a burden like you.

The relapse is so bad you decide to find a way to end things.

You choose a lonely place and takes a dagger out.

You greet death like an old friend.

Only to wake up under a starry night sky.

With a familiar skeleton-like figure close to you.

Withers brought you back. But why? And how did he…

Before you manage to say anything coherent, you feel strong hands around your waist and a familiar scent.

Astarion cries holding you.

"I shouldn't have left you, I shouldn't have... I am so sorry..."

He was ashamed of himself. Of his own relapse.

But he could never thought you would kill yourself.

These six monthes were difficult for him.

Yes, he was free. He could do whatever he wanted.

But he was lonely. He had nightmares. Breakdowns.

He started looking for you only to realize you were dead.

Finding Withers was his only hope.

And you are back. Back to him.

Astarion takes you away from Baldur's Gate to the places you've never been before.

Basically making you run faster than your darkness.

Together you learn how to enjoy things.

You basically ask each other "What can we do rn to make ourselves feel better?"

A swim in the lake? A bath in the inn? A new piece of garment? Just staying together in the tent?

You hold each other from slipping into the void.

Eventually, you are advised to start taking some medicine made by clerics.

You take it once a day and you feel better, almost the same way you felt with the tadpole.

You take the double shot because Astairon drinks your blood to get this medicine for himself.

You both don't feel yourself that miserable anymore. You both cry less.

You sleep better, Astarion doesn't have nightmares.

You are good. Both of you.

It doesn't mean the darkness won't come back - but you are both ready to meet it.

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96

[depravitycentral]

(I don't think I've seen this concept before, but if someone else has written about this please let me know and I'll credit them accordingly!)

I have no grounds to base this on but I think that when nen-using yanderes are around their darling, their nen spikes.

Like, a lot.

Which wouldn't be bad at all - particularly if their darling isn't even aware of the existence of nen. Unfortunately, though, this has some bad side effects - namely, these spikes are both unconscious and uncontrollable.

And I like to think this manifests itself in ways that are entirely specific to the yandere - nen is energy, aura, raw, their honest feelings bleeding into their energy output, and when they're around someone who makes their heart race and their palms sweat and possessiveness and lust and desire and need bloom in their chest, their nen starts acting out what the yandere really desires.

And most of the time, this materializes as physical touch; their aura literally holding their darling, enveloping them and keeping them warm, comforted, trapped, whatever their heart is genuinely desiring in that moment. It's scary, for both the yandere and the darling, because even the most skilled nen user can't really control it - it just happens, and it's a dead giveaway for other nen users that this particular darling is already claimed when their companion's aura flares so strongly that it nearly suffocates the room.

Again, each yandere's nen manifests differently, but as a ballpark example of some ways this works is how Franklin's aura always physically picks you up, sweeping you off your feet and cradling you, leaving you floating in mid air princess style while something humming and heavy and invisible presses against your lips, jawline, and neck.

(When this happens, it makes him a bit embarrassed, watching with slightly widened eyes and immediately rushing forward to disperse the nen and set you back on the ground, making sure the nen won't accidentally drop you. He might then pick you up himself, recreating what his natural urges are obviously desiring, but more often than not he'll just nod at you and ask if you're alright, then walk off and try to calm the racing of his heart because god, it's like he could feel your soft skin and warmth through his nen. He'll spend a few minutes pressing soft kisses to his hand, eyes closed, pretending it's your lips, trying to not feel too pathetic.)

Phink's nen is, much to his embarrassment and mild displeasure, always immediately smacking into your ass when it spikes. It's not enough to hurt, but it's a firm, teasing spank, and it's one that leaves you yelping slightly and glancing behind you, wondering what the fuck just happened. Phinks is ashamed that this is what his heart wants most, because it feels cheap and dirty and mean, but it's the truth, and eventually you'll just grow to expect some sort of assault on your backside every time you enter the same room as him. (Sometimes it's a squeeze rather than a smack - equally as jarring, and a bit more humiliating because it's much longer, the nen massaging your skin and making you shiver because it almost feels good.)

(Phinks won't really explain what's going on to you, but he will say that it's nothing to worry about, and will loosely, incompletely explain nen without placing too much of the blame on himself. He doesn't want you to know that his carnal urges are what's fueling your daily ass smacks - except maybe once he tells you about it, maybe you'd let him slap your ass instead of his nen...?)

But by far the most unpredictable nen belongs to none other than Chrollo Lucilfer himself, who's nen response to you ranges from simply brushing over a piece of your hair to pinning you against the wall. It drives him absolutely crazy - he can't control it at all, and it all depends on his mood. Sometimes it'll flare up and simply surround you, not quite touching you, but getting as close as it can, almost like a predator that's waiting to pounce. This happens when Chrollo's in the mood to have a long, drawn out conversation with you - the philosophical kind, the kind that lets him peek into your mind and examine you, the poking and prodding questions he asks about your morality and beliefs leaving your head swimming. Other times, his aura springs on you the moment he walks through the door, the pressure nearly suffocating as it seems to snake under your clothing, pressing against your skin, particularly focused on your chest, thighs, and right between your legs.

(He won't fully acknowledge any questions you ask about this phenomenon - just dancing around the answer, instead managing to redirect the conversation or making some vague, ambiguous response like the heart is a fickle thing. He doesn't want you to realize the hold you have on him - he already feels his position above you is precarious (it's not, you're very aware that he's a cunning, resourceful bastard that you'd probably never successfully rebel against), and he cannot have you knowing that the nen that sometimes goes so far as to rip off your shirt is actually just him wanting to feast his eyes upon your pretty breasts. He hadn't let you wear a bra that morning, so is it really so wrong that that's his heart's biggest desire in the moment? He doesn't think so.)

Anyways, just a fun thought! If you couldn't tell I love thinking about big strong men being embarrassed and unable to control themselves <3

[fizzytaste]

KINK CONTENT DON'T LIKE DON'T READ

As promised, here I'm with my dungeon meshi headcanons part2 now its time for Senshi and Marcille

Senshi

Ok, on one hand, I think he would be very chill about generally, he sees it as just a normal bodily function and if you need to do it, you should just do it. I can even see him giving a litttle lecture on how holding it in is bad for your health and there's nothing to be ashamed of. If someone did it on accident after a meal or something, he will just smile and assure them it's fine and maybe that it's even a "compliment to the chef".

But on the other hand he canonically cares about table manners, so I would say he would get quite frustrated to see someone doing it on purpose just to be annoying, gross or funny and would also give a lecture on how that's not good and can also make you sick (the person receiving the lecture is prob Izutsumi). I would say he doesn't think excusing yourself is always necessary, but at least making an effort to muffle the sound is, especially in a dungeon.

He applies the same rules to himself, except that I do think he'll always excuse himself (its like, "other people don't have to do it but I can always be a good role model!"), but generally, if he has to burp, he'll just do it, unless he's in a formal situation or needs to be quiet. I can picture he putting a fist over his mouth and then casually excusing himself, not too worried about it.

He doesn't have any skill related to it, like doing it on command or burping words because he doesn't see the point, he finds it weird, actually, that some people would see it as a party trick or something when it's just, again, a bodily function. He would also never participate in a burping contest, unless idk he was really bored and really trying to bond with the people around him and it would still take a good amount of convincing.

Now, I don't think he would burp very often, for a variety of reasons 1) I don't know if that's true for the dungeon meshi universe, but for what I know dwarfs generally have stronger stomachs 2) He knows how to pace himself when eating and wouldn't be swallowing a lot of air 3) He has a very good understanding of which foods work for him and which ones don't.

I think his burps are a little bit below average for a dwarf (which translates as a little above average) and that they aren't very loud, but they're very deep and can be quite long. He'll make an effort to muffle them, but it's always going to be at least a little audible.

Marcille

From the main four she's definitely the one that's more grossed out by it. Mostly she'll just roll her eyes, groan and maybe mumble some insult, but if she's in a particularly bad mood she may actually snap and scold whoever did it for being loud (normally Laios) or not excusing themselves (normally Chilchuck).

Of course because of that she doesn't know how to burp on command or anything like that and would never participate in a burping contest, she thinks only someone incredibly vulgar would do any of those things

All that being said, the universe must really hate her because her burps are loud. Very loud. Explosions of sound. So loud she can't even properly muffle them. And she tries her hardest to, trying to hold it as much as she can (which just makes it worse in the long run) and if she has to, keep her mouth shut and covered by her hand (also always excuses herself, multiple times even), but it's not enough. She hates it, she gets actually angry at herself for this, but there isn't much she can do. The others don't even taunt her about it anymore (unless she's being particularly insistent with her scolding), because she gets actually sad and so ashamed its painful to be reminded of it.

I have more so once again if this gets likes I'll post them

[recurring-polynya]

Okay, I love how you write Yumichika and Ikkaku, they're so like, comfortable and, not quite co-dependent, but something like that but healthier ?? I love them. BECAUSE of this, it makes me think violently about the Yumichikia Zanpaukto Reveal, the one where he's like Oh God I've Got A Kido Zanpakuto, I'm Going to Be Hated, because i love that fic trope ?? idea ??? so so much, and I've seen many from it, but I ! want to know how you think it would go ? because based on the relationship that they have, it's like ! It wouldn't break them apart obvi, but they trust each other a Lot, and, tbh, i don't think it's gonna be the zanpakuto being kido that's the problem but that Yumichika thought he couldn't trust Ikkaku with it, when Ikkaku trusts him with something of equivalent nature (his bankai's existence) ?

i dunno i just like my guys and want more thoughts of them and like your world building so. sits in your inbox quietly aslkdjfaskdfj

So, uh, the thing is, I think Ikkaku knows.

Long-ass explanation with many pictures under the cut

Let's start out by looking at the two scenes where Yumichika beats people up with his shikai and then swears them to secrecy.

First, Hisagi:

And secondly, Charlotte:

There are a couple of things to note here:

He pointedly uses "we" to refer to Eleventh Company.

He doesn't say it's wrong to have a kidou-based zanpakutou, he says it's wrong to use it.

The speech is almost the word-for-word the same, both times. Almost like it's practiced.

He doesn't seem scared or nervous or desperate. He's cheeky. "Ha ha," he says, "I beat you using this sad, weak, little kidou move that I'm ashamed of. Gross, right?"

As an addition to 4, consider that this isn't even the only misdirection Yumichika uses. Let's back up a little in the Hisagi fight:

He also pulls this schtick where he's publicly the Fifth Seat, except there is no Fourth Seat.

[An aside: it's interesting that he tells Hisagi that another of the principles of the Eleventh is that it's better to go down swinging than to surrender. So, assuming that his zanpakutou is permitted, as long as he uses it as a pointy thing and not as a reishi-sucker, that puts him in a Catch-22-- when the chips are down, does he go down, even though he has a secret trump card, or does he use his shameful kidou attack? The evidence suggests that he values fighting to the bitter end, even at the risk of exposing himself.

This is particularly interesting because Ikkaku himself is in the same situation with regards to his bankai, and as we see in the fight for the pillars, he makes the opposite decision. ]

So what gives?

The fact is, Yumichika doesn't belong in the Eleventh. I just made the point that he's a fake Fourth Seat, in a scene where he takes down a vice-captain, even with a terrible relationship with zanpakutou (and he probably doesn't get as much practice with them as he should, either). Not only does he have to worry about Zaraki kicking him out if his powers were publicly known, but Yamamoto would probably jerk him out of Squad 11 and make him go to a captain who would make him work to his full potential.

But he wants to be in Squad 11. He wants to be with Ikkaku. So not only does he follow the rules, he vocally enforces them.

There is a lot about Yumichika as a character that is a metaphor for homosexuality (and often not in a very nice way), and he's very much in a don't-ask-don't-tell situation here. It's not just in an official, he'll-get-kicked-out-of-Squad 11 sense, but I think that he doesn't talk about his kidou zanpakutou and Ikkaku pretends not to see it, and they live in harmony. The reason he swears people to secrecy is not because he doesn't want Ikkaku to know, it's because if someone confronted Ikkaku or Zaraki about it, they would be forced to take action about it or have some sort of response to it.

I don't actually have any evidence that Ikkaku knows, this is just how I feel in my heart. I am not going to tell anyone how to enjoy a romance, but to me, the essence of a shinigami partnership is knowing each other. I like this in all kinds of romances, tbh, but Bleach has all these additional metaphors-made-spirit flesh, in terms of fighting with an expression of your soul. If I could accept the idea that Ikkaku somehow doesn't know that Yumichika has hidden talents, even if he doesn't know the scope of them, their love story falls apart for me.

There are certain kinds of lying in relationships that is truly unforgivable: questions of fidelity, financial stuff, etc. But there is also a different kind of lying that both parties are aware of and allow the fiction to persist, because it's important to one of them, or it keeps the relationship together or it's just nice. As a counterexample, you will occasionally see a particular flavor of Gross Dude on r/RedPill who finds out what his girlfriend looks like out of her make-up and is absolutely incensed about it. Yumichika's secret is a little more intense than make-up, but the idea is that he wants to present himself as a Squad Eleven Guy with a Melee Zanpakutou and Ikkaku says "Sure, pal, of course" even though it's obviously untrue. Like, super obviously untrue.

Now, does Zaraki know? That's a different story. I am personally of the opinion that Zaraki prefers to take the things people tell him at face value, and also that he's dumb as a bag of rocks, so I think it's highly possible that Yumichika actually is pulling one over on him, especially because Ikkaku says Yumichika has a melee-zanpakutou, and who would know better than Ikkaku? For people who prefer a smarter Zaraki, I can still see him figuring that as long as Yumichika plays by the rules and can hang with the crew, who cares, right?

The other problem with Yumichika's zanpakutou, though, is that it's strong. It's real strong. If you're comparing the rank-and-file, yeah, an unseated officer from the Eleventh is better than an unseated officer of nearly any other squad. On the other hand, every other super-strong character in Bleach uses kidou or has some kidou-related zanpakutou technique. @troius pointed out that kidou proved to be incredibly effective against Arrancar during the Winter War, particularly for the mid-strength, Vice-Captain level characters. Renji is famously bad at kidou (altho this is exaggerated in the anime), and yet has saved his own ass with it on multiple occasions. Iba, an alumni of Squad 11, lectures Ikkaku that he should be more well-rounded. The problem is that Zaraki, who made up the dumb Squad 11 rules, may be the strongest guy in Soul Society, but he's also a tremendous outlier. It's all well and good if he wants to wear a reiatsu-sucking eyepatch, but the fact is, the Squad 11 rules make them weaker.

I think it's a pretty common headcanon that when they met, Ikkaku was significantly stronger than Yumichika. I'm...not sure that's still true. That, to me, is the the meatier conflict of Yumichika keeping his powers secret. Ikkaku's strength is so, so important to him. Would Ikkaku still love him if Yumichika were the stronger one? Further, if Yumichika flaunted his powers, would it break the entire illusion of The Squad 11 Way?

So, you asked how I think it would go, and the answer is that a) I think it happened during the 17-mo timeskip and b) it was more of wider ranging conversation about facing certain truths and living more authentically to themselves, and c) we have to do this, for the pride of Squad 11, all of the other vice captains are nerds and if we don't up our game they are going to surpass us and that is unacceptable.

Bleach is not a romance manga, so we didn't get to see any of this on-panel, but I think there is strong evidence that they got it figured out.

[talonslockau]

Fire and Ice - Chapter 20

Chapter 19 || Index || Chapter 21

It had taken nearly the entire day, but Firepaw at last found himself dragging the final nest into the Shadowclan elders' new den; a small, abandoned Twoleg nest. Even knowing that the Twolegs abandoned Tallpines every newleaf, this particular den smelled as though it hadn't been used for at least a generation, if not more, and had several escape routes should the Twolegs come back unexpectedly. And yet, despite the exceptional shelter which it provided, the elders were less than thrilled with their new accommodations.

"I can't believe Thunderclan is forcing us to live like kittypets!" The elder with the curiously curled tail snarled from his nest atop a stack of Twoleg material. "How can we be sure this isn't some sort of trap?" He angled his green glare towards Firepaw as he set the last nest down.

"You can smell as well as I can that the Twolegs haven't been here in seasons." Firepaw replied wearily. He'd already had two arguments today; he didn't need another. "What would we gain from losing our best nests to the Twolegs?"

"Thunderclan has never been particularly cunning." Another elder, black as the night, observed from a nest beside the first. "I doubt that even Bluestar could concoct such a devious plan on her paws, Archtail. The little fool here speaks the truth."

The first elder - Archtail, he presumed - huffed haughtily at that. "Maybe so. But that doesn't mean I have to like it." He sniffed at the material his nest was situated on. "I'll never be comfortable in a place that reeks of Twoleg."

Firepaw did his best to ignore the tom's jabs at their new situation. "Do you have everything you need, then? Do you want me to catch you some more prey before I go?" He offered humbly, doing his best not to let his pride get in the way of his duty. Even if he didn't deserve it, this was his punishment; he had to fulfill it to the best of his ability.

"Do we look like we need your pity?" A third elder, dark as shadows, spat from a nest in the corner. "We can hunt for ourselves. We don't need the help of a mousebrained kit like you."

The Thunderclan apprentice did his best to suppress his fur rising, but the other elders could clearly tell they'd gotten under his skin. "You know, he doesn't look like any Thunderclanner I know." Archtail said to the black elder beside him. "Look at how bright his pelt is, Crowtalon. I bet prey spots him coming from across the territory!"

He grit his teeth at the taunts, all too much like those of Dustleap and Sandstorm's. "If I'm not needed, I'll be leaving." He replied as flatly as he could, turning back to the entrance and forcing himself to take deep, even breaths.

"You know, he's awfully comfortable in an old Twoleg nest." A light gray tom mentioned idly, joining in on his companions' needling. "Almost like he's a kittypet himself."

He could feel his claws straining to come out against his better judgement. "I am a Thunderclan apprentice." He hissed behind him, not daring to look them in the eyes for fear he'd say something he'd regret.

"I think you're right, Cinderscar." The third elder spoke up. "I think Thunderclan's so desperate, they've resorted to apprenticing kittypets! No wonder he doesn't follow the code. I can't think of anything more shameful than-"

"Than what?" Firepaw snapped, spinning on his heels to glare at the assembled elders. "Than having your precious healer defeated by a mere kittypet? Than admitting that a kittypet has more right to be in a Clan than you do? Than having a kittypet follow the code better than your own leader?"

He looked each of them in the eye, his tail lashing. "You can pretend you're better than me because you were born in a Clan, but nothing will change the fact that I'm taking care of you because your own leader didn't want you." He hissed, no longer trying to hide his fury. "You'd be ashamed whether it was me bringing you food or Yellowfang herself. And you can take it out on me all you want, but none of your taunts will ever change the truth."

The elders stared at him wordlessly for several heartbeats, and for a moment he thought he'd actually stunned them into silence.

But of course, that couldn't possibly be the case. "Look at him! This little kittypet fancies himself a lion." Crowtalon purred to Archtail beside her. "He thinks his words are as sharp as claws. How cute."

His face screwed into a grimace and his ears flattened as he turned away, forcing himself not to listen any further as he left the elders behind. So much for not getting into a third argument in one day.

The sky above indicated that it was getting close to dusk, and reasonably he knew that he should be getting back to camp. And yet, he couldn't find it within himself to do so. The last thing he wanted right now was to face the scorn of camp, or the faces of his friends. Right now, he needed to be alone with his thoughts and the forest.

More than anything, he wanted to remind himself of why he'd entered it in the first place.

He found himself wandering along the border with the Twolegplace. Here, he knew he could think without interruption, given how little it was patrolled. As long as he headed back to camp before moonhigh, he predicted he wouldn't see a single soul out here.

Part of him was tempted to go hunting, but the very thought twisted his stomach in a way he had never experienced before. The memories of his failed hunting foray pushed their way to the front of his mind, the scent of foxdung flooding his nose as Bluestar's punishment rang through his ears. He shook his head, pushing away the thoughts as he turned from the deeper forest. Right now, merely the thought of hunting was too painful, serving only to remind him of what he had lost.

Instead, he gazed upon the row of Twoleg nests that stretched far into the distance. Not all of them contained kittypets, he knew, but quite a few did. In some, he supposed, they were laying contentedly with their housefolk, or eating their dinner alongside them. It was unlikely any would be outside now that the sun was below the tree line, obscuring their vision of the sunset.

If he stayed here until the moon rose, he suspected he might see the more adventurous among them begin to hop over fences, exploring each other's gardens and socializing while the night was young. By moonhigh, they would return to their homes and to their housefolk, to sleep until the morning began.

He knew the routine so well. It was familiar, as easy to slip into as a nest. It had only taken him a few days to get comfortable when he had first come to his housefolk. If he returned to his housefolk now…

A jingle in the forest caught his attention, and he crouched down immediately, his eyes searching the forest for any signs of life. For a moment, there was nothing, but then his eyes caught sight of a flash of gold.

A kittypet was stalking through the forest, blissfully unaware of the eyes upon her. He didn't recognize her from his kittypet friends, though that didn't particularly surprise him. The Treecutplace was quite far away from his former housefolk; it would be more surprising if he did recognize her.

She was a dark tawny color, lighter than his own ginger but not as much as Sandstorm or Speckleflight. Her fur was longer than his, a soft and silky texture that could only be the result of Twoleg care. He had to admit that she was pretty, for a housecat.

She was also hunting on Thunderclan territory.

He circled around, careful not to allow her to scent or sight him. If he were trying to avoid a warrior like Tinyfrost, he suspected he wouldn't have such luck. With a kittypet, however, it was far easier; she was far too focused on what was in front of her than what was around her.

"You're trespassing." At the sound of his voice, the molly bolted for the Twolegplace, not daring to search for the source of the voice in the shadows. Part of him was disappointed he didn't get to fight; it would have been nice to have something to get his aggression out on. But he supposed it was better not to have to go see Spottedleaf again; at least, not until he had to bring Yellowfang her breakfast.

He stood there, watching her flee, her fear-scent filling the air behind her. At least the kittypets were still afraid of him, if nothing else. But as he turned away, ready to continue on into the forest, something in her scent caught his attention.

He drew it over his tongue, tasting the breeze as it drifted past him. Beneath the acrid tang of fear was the molly's scent, still strong enough to discern. And yet, underneath that was a scent that was achingly familiar, one that drew to the surface memories he had long forgotten. It was comfortable and sweet, but more importantly, it felt like home. It was a scent he'd never thought he'd get to smell again; his mother's milk-scent.

And yet the only reason another cat could smell like that would be if they were related. And as he thought back to his memories as a small kit, barely able to walk, he realized who this molly was.

That kittypet was his sister.

"Wait!" He called, chasing after her. She had already gotten quite the head start, however, and was already at the tree line by the time he had started running. "Wait, please! I just want to talk!"

She didn't slow down in the slightest at his words, scrambling over the Twoleg boundary as fast as she could and disappearing behind it. He slowed as he reached the tree line, part of him wondering if he should just leave her be. And yet, for the first time since that morning, his heart was racing with anticipation. He had to talk to her. Ever since he had been separated from his mother, he hadn't ever expected to see his family again. And now…!

"I promise I won't hurt you. I just want to talk." He mewed as he cautiously crossed the short grass to sit by the Twoleg fence. He knew better than to jump over it; crossing into her territory would be a sign of disrespect, and he didn't want to start off on the wrong paw. Not more than he already had, anyways. "Please?"

"Go away!" The molly's voice wasn't as familiar; it was grown up, now, much like he was. "I left your territory. I won't come back. Just leave me alone!"

"No, that's not - I just want to talk." He mewed, picturing the other molly glaring through the well-maintained fence at him. "I'm not mad at you, I promise."

She scoffed at him. "Why would I talk with a wild cat?" Her voice hissed. "If you're trying to lure me into the forest to kill me, it won't work."

He winced at the thought. He remembered the tall tales that Smudge had told him, and he could only assume that the same or worse were told all throughout the Twolegplace. "I'm not, I promise! I want to talk because…" He hesitated, unsure what to say. "I want to talk because I think I'm your brother."

There was silence that seemed to stretch for an eternity, and he thought maybe that he had gotten through to her. "Yea, right." His heart sank at the disbelief in her words. "And I bet your grandfather was a dog, too."

He flattened his ears at that, the words all too like those he was out here to escape from. For a moment, he thought of leaving entirely. But he hadn't followed her for nothing. He wasn't leaving until he got to talk to her, face to face. "No, really! I…"

He hesitated, unsure how to get her to believe him. Then an idea came to him. "Our mother's name was Nutmeg. She had a chok- a collar the same color as the lavender flowers outside our nursery window. We had three other siblings, a sister and two brothers. Our smallest brother, he used to get between the bars that held us in the nursery and go running around the whole nest after the housefolk had gone to bed, and they'd always yell at him when they got up in the morning."

He had to stop for a moment to catch his breath, his mind racing as he thought of other things to bring up. "Our other brother, he had white paws like Mom did, but only his chest was white, not his whole belly like her. One time, when we were just learning to climb-"

"That's enough." He looked up to see the molly was perched on the fence above him, gazing down at him with guarded green eyes. "You're quite good at guessing."

He returned her gaze steadily. "It's not a guess."

She hopped down beside him, circling him slowly. He stayed still, keeping his gaze forward as she leaned in to smell him. "You smell like a wild cat." She murmured, almost to herself. "But underneath that…"

"Is our mother's milk-scent. The same one I smelled on you." He finished for her, stepping back to meet her gaze. "I'm sorry I chased you out. It wasn't until you were running away that I realized who you were."

She studied him carefully. "How did my brother end up becoming a wild cat?" She asked him with a tilt of her head, ignoring his apology.

"They asked me to." He glanced back at the forest, remembering all too well the night he had first entered the wilderness. It seemed like seasons ago, now. "I fought off one of their apprentices - those are cats our age training to become full wild cats - and they saw my spirit, and wanted me to become one of them."

"So you live in the forest? You never had housefolk?" He looked back to see her ears perked in concern. "You could come live with mine, I'm certain-"

"No, I did. I mean, I used to have housefolk. But I… I felt trapped, when I lived with them." He admitted with a sigh. "I wanted to live in the forest more than anything. And now I do." He wished he could say that with the same enthusiasm he had had when he'd first joined, but he couldn't find it within himself.

"Living in the forest all the time… that must be nice." He perked his ears, unable to ignore the wistful tone in her voice. "But it's probably dangerous, too."

He shrugged. "That's why I'm an apprentice. I'm training to defend myself, and my Clan - that's what our group is called - from anything that might threaten us." He watched her, unable to ignore the glint that was in her eye - the same glint he imagined he must have had when he was a kittypet, talking to Lionheart and Bluestar. "You could join us too, you know! Train alongside me. I'm sure Bluestar would be glad to have-"

"I can't." His sister interrupted him gently. "My housefolk - I can't leave them."

He hesitated, studying her carefully. "Are you sure?" He asked softly, unable to mask the hurt in his voice. He hadn't realized it, but he wanted - needed, really - someone that understood him. That felt the same way as he did.

"I wish I could. I love being in the forest, and I'd like to get to know you better. I really would." She admitted, brushing her tail against his paw. "But my housefolk… she needs me. She's alone in her nest all day, until her mate comes home, and sometimes she just sits and stares at nothing all day when I'm not around. She needs me to keep her functioning." The tawny molly looked away with a heavy sigh. "I'm not sure what she would do if I just left."

He tilted his head. He had never heard of such a thing before, but then, he hadn't encountered many Twolegs before. "I understand. If she needs you, then she needs you." As much as it hurt to say it, he wasn't going to force her to come at the detriment of others.

"But you can still come see me, right? This is my home." She gestured to the fence beside her. "Or I could come visit you!"

He winced at the thought. "No, you- my Clanmates aren't all friendly to kittypets - that's what they call housecats. If they caught you on our territory, they wouldn't be so nice." He hesitated as he thought of all the duties waiting for him back at camp. "I'm an apprentice, so I don't have as much freedom to come and go where I please. But I'll try to visit you when I can."

His sister nodded, a smile forming on her muzzle. "I understand. I'll look forward to seeing you again." She dropped into a low stretch, standing back up to give him a toothy grin. "And I expect you'll do the same, brother."

He couldn't help but grin back. "I will. I promise." He hesitated as he looked back into the forest. "And I… meant what I said, about my Clanmates. You'll probably be ok if you're just trespassing, but they really won't take kindly to you hunting. Please, promise me you'll stay out of the forest?" He asked, looking back into her gaze, almost the same green as his.

She purred and nodded. "Of course." She glanced at him, a smirk dancing across her lips. "By the way… you never told me your name."

"Oh!" He blinked as he realized that in all his pleading, he never had introduced himself. "My name is Firepaw."

His sister gave him another smile at that. "And mine is Princess." With that, she turned back to her fence, her white paws delicately treading over the grass. "Goodbye, Firepaw."

His heart sang as his sister spoke his name. "Goodbye, Princess." He whispered as he watched her leap over the fence into her garden. Though his heart was lighter than it had been all day, his paws were heavy as he turned and headed back into the forest to return to Thunderclan camp.

For the first time since he'd joined, he felt like he was torn. The past moon, he had believed he had finally found the place he belonged. Thunderclan had seemed so welcoming, a life he could love and thrive in. After he and Tinyfrost had come to an understanding, he'd thought nothing could go wrong.

And yet, somehow he had been punished for defending the territory. Now he was being relentlessly mocked by everyone around him, and his friends, if he could call them that, were only watching as his life crumbled beneath him. For the foreseeable future, he would be languishing under the commands of Yellowfang and the Shadowclan elders.

And then he had found his sister, someone who understood him. Sure, it would take time to explain his life to her, but he had no doubt she would comfort him rather than judging him. She had made him feel as though he belonged, in a way no one had before.

As he made his way back to camp, he had to wonder; did he still belong in Thunderclan?

[amorremanet]

[A] scratchy voice cut in with an accent that wanted to badly to be Australian, but mostly sounded like a pirate from an animated kids’ movie:

“Ooooh, crikey. Here we find a specimen of the mighty Sebastianus flagrándus, an’ he looks like a biggun, too. Now, this breed is known for both their mutually beneficial relationships with lesser beasts, like that little Canis familiaris right there and for their ability to fall asleep in strange places. Oy, he may not look like much righ’ now, kids—”

“But he’s six-foot-three, can floor a Hell’s Angel one-on-one, and might not be asleep?”

Seb rolled his eyes before lifting his head and arching an eyebrow across the table at Todd Burroughs. Or, more accurately, at Todd and the video camera he’d mounted on a small tripod in front of him. About halfway between them sat a black plastic box that Seb recognized as the portable digital audio recorder he’d gotten Todd for his birthday, back in January. Fussing with something or other on the camera, Todd said nothing and didn’t look up from the flip-out screen.…

Under most circumstances, Todd would’ve distracted Seb from how heavy his shoulders felt and the dry, sticky feeling on the roof of his mouth. Tonight, however, he slouched over, propped himself up on his elbows, and couldn’t find the wherewithal to smile… Not if Todd was going to play around with his camera instead of talking. Wrinkling his nose, Seb waited in vain for Todd to acknowledge him.

“You should’ve said, ‘flagrāns,’ by the way. If you were trying to call me, ‘flaming’?” Seb gave Todd a moment of silence, then added, “You used the gerundive of flagrō, flagrā́re. Your scientific name for me means, like, ‘Sebastian, who must be incinerated.’ You want the present active participle.”

Todd nodded, but said nothing. Pressing button after button, he frowned, but still said nothing. At the very least, he could’ve told Seb not to correct his grammar in Latin, and yet? He said nothing.

Seb sighed. “Strictly speaking, though, flagrā́re is for when something is literally on fire,” he said, dropping his cheek into his hand. “But there’s no good Latin for what you’re saying, because of the Romans’ cultural ideas about sex and gender? Cinaedus is usually read, ‘he who bottoms,’ but for every time Ganymede gets called, ‘Jupiter’s cinaedus,’ you’ve got five references to womanizing cinaedi. Pathicus always refers to guys who bottom, but can be complicated? Morbōsus technically means, ‘diseased,’ or, ‘pathological,’ but also referred to cinaedi who wanted to get fucked. Because you could be a cinaedus and want to top some other pretty boy into the klínen. You’d still be effeminate, but you wouldn’t get called, ‘sick.’ Galbinatus works for flamboyant effeminacy, but doesn’t have any sexuality-related connotations. Ēnervā́tum is good? It’s a perfect passive participle, so—”

“Hey, Pretty Boy?” Todd kept his eyes on the camera. “Can you sit up straight for me? Without any, ‘How dare you, I can’t do anything straight.’ I just need to get this shot right.”

in which my losers are bad at communicating, and i am bad at keeping my own pet interests out of things

[eggluttony]

So what about Zobotnik

Out of all the fat versions/counterparts of Eggman, he's the most insecure about his weight and he's the only one that wears a form of shapewear in an attempt to make his belly look a bit smaller than it really is. He also seeks to lose more weight than any of them and constantly attempts diets and tries to get more exercise. But he finds it difficult to stay healthy and keep it up for long when it's easier for him to access unhealthy food and he can't find a lot of time or energy to get much exercise.

His very tough and busy job as a warden is to thank for that. He only gets time for small breaks where he can quickly eat junk food snacks and it's also quicker and easier for him to eat fast food for meals. He always has to be vigilant, so he never sleeps very deeply for very long and he doesn't get enough hours of sleep, especially when there are emergencies in the prison late at night. So he's often too tired and doesn't have the time to keep up with exercise. He's always sure to bring up these excuses on the subject of his weight.

There are multiple reasons for his weight gain and some are pretty much beyond his control, though he is definitely to blame in some aspects. Not only is it quicker and easier to eat junk and fast food more often than he should, when he gets off work at the end of a particularly stressful day and releases his belly from his shapewear, he sits back and eats and eats to comfort himself. He also just eats a lot to reward himself for hard work. It gives him something to look forward to and helps him relax but it has consequences.

He often gets carried away eating for stress relief or to reward himself but he also intentionally overeats for pleasure. Stuffing his belly really arouses him, he loves eating lots of tasty food and having a satisfied full belly. There are times he'll knowingly keep going until he's eaten far too much. It's a guilty pleasure that he always tries to deny to everyone and even himself that it turns him on, even though the erections he gets after huge meals don't lie. It's easier for him to feel more ashamed about it than other fat versions.

But everything he does always really works up his hunger and appetite and makes him go overboard. The pleasure it gives him is too addictive for him to resist and he can't ignore his cravings. Whenever he's done with his huge end of the day meals, he's so stuffed that it's impossible to squeeze into shapewear again until his bloat has subsided and all the food in his stomach has digested, so it's a good thing that he doesn't need to wear it for the rest of the day and he can keep his belly out until the next one.

He's not really into the weight gain aspect of the fetish, he doesn't tend to have fantasies about getting bigger like the other fat versions do because of his insecurity. He's not proud of the way that stuffing himself is a part of what helped him gain weight but he just can't help it. Still, he feels a bit guilty for eating so much when he starts thinking about how all the digesting food that he packed his stomach full with is going to result in more fat on his frame. Especially whenever he caves after struggling to stay on a diet.

He'll also scold himself if he notices he's gained weight and his shapewear is a bit tighter. Even when it gets too uncomfortable and he can't get another right away, he endures it because he tries to never let himself be seen without it. The only exception is when he doesn't have time and has to rush to emergencies and if anyone notices and comments on how his belly suddenly looks bigger because it's not being held back, he gets extremely embarrassed and it will take a while for him to recover from it.

He has to make the most of freeing his belly from the shapewear during small breaks and when he eats junk food snacks during them, he has to make sure he isn't too full to put it back on. He often only eats those small snacks in those breaks and never a full meal because as long as he doesn't eat and drink enough to get too bloated, his belly will still be much softer and it makes it easier to squeeze back into his shapewear when he's finished eating. It's a huge relief for him to finally let it free for good at the end of the day.

Another problem besides the way he eats ice cream too often is how he feels very hungry at the end of the day after not having any full meals so he eats a lot to sate it. After freeing his belly from his shapewear, it's not long until he's sat back with a heavy round stuffed belly with empty dishes/cups/packaging piled up around him. Regret and sometimes a tummy ache sets in and he groans about how greedy he is and how he ate way too much. But he loves rubbing his stuffed belly and gets even more stress relief when he jerks off to it, so he's always sure to do it again in the future.

Much like the other fat versions, he loves fast food, especially burgers, fries, and fried chicken, which doesn't help with the damage after his stuffings. His favorite desserts are donuts and ice cream. He can eat entire big packs of donuts in one sitting if he isn't paying attention or pushes himself for pleasure. He often eats ice cream on his break or a lot more of it in the night and he likes to squeeze in at least one pack of donuts after his big dinner. He very often eats pints of ice cream in between meals and sometimes intentionally lets it melt so he can drink it to get it down faster.

Once he was eating right from a big tub instead of his usual pint containers when he visited his freezer in the middle of the night. When some of the large amount of ice cream had melted while he was eating from it and he didn't want to waste it, he stopped using the spoon and started to drink it. It was so yummy and slipped down his throat into his stomach so easily that he couldn't resist drinking almost the entire big tub. He was so full and bloated after but it felt amazing. Now he sometimes does that during big eating sessions too and it's another bad habit of his that helped him gain weight.

He's become so used to eating this way because of his lifestyle, his addiction to fast food and desserts, and all his bad habits that it's very hard to break them when he attempts a diet. He can't handle it for long until he gives in and eats another one of his huge meals that leave him feeling so stuffed full and satisfied. He tells himself he shouldn't love it so much but it feels so good. He daydreams about how great it would be if he could just eat whatever he wanted without gaining weight, unlike other fat versions that fantasize about letting themselves go and becoming greedier and fatter.

He's extra sensitive to people poking fun at his weight than the other versions but it used to happen all the time. It was one of the first things prisoners would insult him for when his big belly and tits were a lot more visible, so he started trying to hide it by using shapewear. He's still visibly fat but he doesn't get as many insults now that he doesn't look as big. Some never knew he was bigger and others think he was actually successful in losing the weight like he keeps trying to but in reality he's just desperately hiding it.

Still, people do of course still say negative and meanspirited things about his weight every now and then because they can still see that he has a belly and the insults and mockery stick with the poor guy longer. Sometimes it gets to him even more when they're making fun of him for how fat he appears when he's wearing shapewear because he's actually even fatter than that in reality. Sometimes he comfort eats to deal with the way he feels, even though he knows it's going to do the opposite of helpful in the long run.

It's very rare for anyone to see him without his shapewear and besides a few slip ups, he goes to a lot of effort to keep it a secret so most people have no idea that he wears it at all. When Eggman meets him, he ends up becoming one of the only people that actually know about it. I'm planning on making a separate post where I talk about them meeting and what happens when Eggman finds out about Zobotnik's insecurities and how he wears shapewear because this post will get very long if I don't! XD

[imaginariaextraordinaire]

So much of this episode is about the unacknowledged labour of women, the sexism they face in different areas and the various methods women adopt to negotiate it.

Ji-Woo is such a great character because the show takes the idea of a film star and layers it with angularities and tenderness. She's well aware of what she's sacrificed on the personal front to become the successful professional she is in the present. I love how she's neither ashamed of it nor does she ignore that its a choice that came with lots of unpleasant baggage. We get a sense of this awareness in the conversation she has with Seon-Gyeom in the parking lot (it's also striking me as I rewatch the show that there's a beautiful little arc of Seon-Gyeom and Ji-Woo building a mother-son relationship almost from scratch).

The church scenes are also a great example of show-don't-tell storytelling. While Assemblyman Ki has to bribe and flatter people in order to get their attention, adoring gazes turn to Ji-Woo seemingly automatically. Except of course, it's not automatic, as the conversation with Ms Dong reminds us. Her fame as an actress is the result of hard work and putting everything else aside. I love the easy understanding between Ms Dong and Ji-Woo — both working women, both mothers. There's no shame in Ji-Woo asking Ms Dong to look out for Seon-Gyeom and no recrimination when she says Seon-Gyeom is closer to Ms Dong than he is to his mother. It takes a village, people.

In Ji-Woo and Seon-Gyeom's chance meeting at the parking lot, there's something tentative and formal about them. They're both putting up façades — Seon-Gyeom's polite mask, Ji-Woo's tinkling laughter — although she does allow him to glimpse what lies beneath. Ji-Woo only drops a vague mention of Assemblyman Ki making life miserable for the rest of the family because Seon-Gyeom isn't falling in line. It's obvious from both mother and son's body language that she doesn't need to elaborate. What's lovely though is that there's no complaint in her tone. She isn't telling Seon-Gyeom this detail so that he feels guilty; quite to the contrary. The laughter and ease of her body language is reassuring, as though she's subtly telling him that she can handle this.

While we're on Ji-Woo, how great is her barely-concealed impatience with all the smiling and greeting and praying in church!

I'm not sure what I love more — the shot of a the stained-glass Jesus, looking pained while the minister thunders out a prayer for Assemblyman Ki; or the fact that the very next scene shows a kid throwing a tantrum in a supermarket. It cannot be a coincidence that this is the one time that Seon-Gyeom is filmed from an angle that makes it look like he's descending down upon the kid (whom he bribes with a chocolate bar). Particularly love the longing on the kid's face as she stares at the retreating figure of the divine Seon-Gyeom.

The scene between Mi-Joo and Seon-Gyeom outside his hotel is so heartbreaking to watch and it's the first time we understand just how hard Mi-Joo is on herself. All this began with a drunk professor making offensive, sexist comments that demeaned Mi-Joo, but to explain all that to Seon-Gyeom feels almost indulgent so she takes the blame. She's the disappointment — for being poor, for being seen as someone who can be bribed, for having taken the money. She doesn't hear him when he places the onus of the blame on his father. It's so achingly obvious that all her belligerence is posturing and she's ending the budding relationship between her and Seon-Gyeom because she doesn't think she deserves him.

Thank the gods for May. Even if she and Mi-Joo start off at odds, it takes only seconds for them to be in sync. God bless the womance.

You've got to feel thankful for the family of choice when Dan-Ah bumps into human-trash brother. He's a strong reminder of the everyday sexism in society and how privilege doesn't mean you're protected from this venom.

Over the course of Run On, Dan-Ah figures out how to fight her battles in her own way, rather than by employing toxic methods, like putting her (half-) brothers down because society considers them illegitimate. At this point though, while her brother is disgusting and Dan-Ah is obviously nothing like him as a person, the weapons she uses to fight him — hierarchy, contempt, violence — are the same as those he uses on her.

In the middle of all these tortured, messed-up men, the kids are alright. We know this from not only the way the schoolkids whom Seon-Gyeom coaches react to the bullying scandal — interesting that the children have more perspective than the grown-ups who care about appearances rather than the truth — but also thanks to Yeong-Hwa.

I love Dan-Ah trying to subtle suss out exactly how young Yeong-Hwa is when he and Ye-Joon come to Dan-Ah's office. I also love how not for a second does Yeong-Hwa, for all his puppy-eyes, call her "noona". There's no ambiguity about this relationship. Also, while I still can't find anything remotely good to say about those wretched paintings, the idea that art forges connections irrespective of social convention/ hierarchy is one that has my heart.

If the Gyeommi couple is all about being heard and understood, the Danhwa couple is all about being seen for what you really are.

Speaking of Gyeommi, how cute is it that Woo-Sik is the one playing Cupid! In this episode, Seon-Gyeom is frequently reminded of how alone and solitary he is, but what we also see is that he's building friendships. The relationship with Woo-Sik changes from that of a senior with a junior colleague to something softer, warmer. With Mi-Joo, particularly at the dinner that Woo-Sik organises, you see Seon-Gyeom finding companionship as they attempt to set aside their attraction and actually understand each other. This is a relationship that works because they're so different. The fact that they don't think alike is why she can offer him the piercing insight of, "Why not include your failures as a part of your process?"

Also, what a bombshell to drop on audiences in a country (and continent) known for its fiercely competitive spirit... .

Rewatching this episode, Mi-Joo running back to home to translate the article in which Woo-Sik clears Seon-Gyeom's name reminded me of how different this is from the marathon run. Both times, she's running towards Seon-Gyeom, but this time it's more adrenaline than anything else and it's for him. It's the unthinking running that Seon-Gyeom told her about during their first drinking session — you're just running ahead, without looking back, focused on one external goal. The marathon run is much more internal as it pushes Mi-Joo to make peace with her past before she decides what she wants to run towards.

Also, looping back to that idea of unacknowledged women's labour, Mi-Joo works HARD to make sure the article goes viral and she claims no credit for it. She only tells an online group that she translated it because she knows that they will circulate it with more gusto if they know it's her work. This little snippet is also a good reminder that rarely do things go viral without a whole lotta effort from people in the background.

Finally, this hug in the rain turned me into full mush. By now, we know that Seon-Gyeom has grown up with very little affection. He prefers a hotel room to the family house. The only person he's felt comfortable enough to hug is the housekeeper. As far as he can tell, he has no friends (Woo-Sik and Yeong-Il will eventually set him straight on that account, but for now, he's utterly alone). At this point, the hug from Mi-Joo is something much more tender and basic than romantic love or sexual chemistry.

MJ: Don't tell me you don't know what I'm doing.

SG: I know. You're comforting me.

MJ: Correct.

I can't help but remember the later scene when they'll be on either sides of metal gates, when she won't reach out to him and he'll be upset that she won't trust him. Perhaps that's the difference between finding friendship and falling in love — they both can make you stronger, but the process is very different.

[done-dm]

Talks Machina Summary: Episodes 76, 77, and Dalen's Closet

In lieu of the usual pre-show entertainment, we were graced with lovely imagery and music from Sounds of the Wildmother Vol. 1.

Announcements

The next episode of Between the Sheets is Monday, September 26 with Felisha Day. The VOD is available the following Wednesday.

There is NO episode of Critical Role this week. There will also be no episode of Talks Machina the following week (because no episode), but the Tavern Keeper Builder livestream will take up that timeslot.

Critrole Stats

Bread was mentioned 52 times in episode 76.

Jester's 100th message spell was cast during episode 77.

Ten days passed between Caleb's first and last conversation with the scourger.

Episode 76 and 77 tie for most dm face palms with 14 each.

Questions

Laura took the longest to come up with Jester's new character art. She drew out the outfit (somewhat poorly) and the artist took it from there. Laura wanted her to look more and more like the Traveler and dress a little more like an adult

Liam wanted Caleb to look less frazzled and more grim/determined in his new character art.

Jester is not aware that sharing your problems is not something to be ashamed of despite helping the other members of the M9 do exactly that. She doesn't want to acknowledge the fact that she has problems in the first place.

Caleb isn't sure that Essek trusts him, and he doesn't really trust Essek either. He thinks Essek has his own reasons for helping Caleb. Essek could be trying to stack up favors, get him under his thumb, acting as a mole, etc.

Jester's perspective on the Traveler has not changed despite her hearing the Traveler's following referred to as a cult.

Caleb feels like the group is clever enough to meet the needs of everyone that they're dealing with (despite the fact that they've been calling in several favors, particularly from Essek). It's a longshot, but he's trying to broker some kind of peace and needs to stay in everyone's good graces in order to do so.

Essek hurt Jester's feelings when he said he had nothing to learn from her. She tried to hide it from the others. Jester doesn't know who she is right now and that's starting to register with her for the first time.

Caleb has been thinking about the Scourgers for years. He wondered what state somebody would be in after years as a Scourger since he escaped that life early. He also wanted to know if anyone who had gone through that was a lost cause (Astrid and Eowulf in particular). There's still a lot of self-loathing, but Caleb understands that he was manipulated. The Scourger he interrogated was younger than him, so if he was any hope for himself he had to offer that to her as well. He also thinks about Yasha and would be quicker to make excuses for her than he would for himself.

Jester fully believes the Gentleman is her father. She thinks he doesn't care about her, but thinks she can convince him that he is her father eventually. She has no plans to tell the others about his refusal to acknowledge her.

Liam mimes using a shake weight. I expect the gifs to be entertaining.

Caleb has a newfound confidence in facing his past now that he has powerful friends, lots of assets, are in the pocket of a queen, etc. Liam wasn't sure where Caleb would be at this point in the campaign. The group is too persuasive as a family for him to walk away and cause Caleb to go down the other paths Liam thought were a possibility.

Jester thinks it's weird that no one else can see the Traveler, but she chalks it up to him being awesome and powerful.

Caleb made himself look like Trent to avoid looking at him and because Trent is enemy #1, so it made sense to Caleb to put that on hinself.

Jester's main example of people helping others is her mom, so she tries to emulate that: hence the motherly behavior towards her friends in the more recent episodes.

There was a question about Caleb's use of the transmuter's stone that I totally missed, whoops!

Jester expects the Traveler Con to be a really awesome celebration where she will be asked to host a few panels. Although, she obviously doesn't know all the details yet.

Liam pulled that line about the porcelain cats out of his ass. Now it's cannon that Caleb has 9 of them.

Jester finds it hard to be the messenger that everyone relies on. Scrying on Yasha was particularly difficult for her (considering the recent... incident). Laura is thankful Matt will repeat information instead of only relying solely on Jester's ability to convey it.

Caleb wants dunamancy knowledge for the sake of knowledge and also because he wants to manipulate time.

Jester feels like she's doing a pretty lousy job of getting more followers for the Traveler, especially since Fjord was actively looking for a god to follow.

Dalen's Closet Stats/Questions

Vex is the only member of vox machina to get hdywtdt on both Sylas an Delilah Briarwood.

Grog called Derrig four names other than his actual name during the course of the episode.

Liam did know that Sam intended to make Vax the wedding gift. Sam texted Matt and Liam to be sure they were okay with it first. Liam felt like he was playing Vax as an NPC at this point. Matt has told him a little bit about where Vax is at, but it was up to Liam to decide exactly what Vax was at this point.

Laura says it feels "fucking awesome" to be responsible for the deaths of both Briarwoods. Laura thinks of Vex/Percy and Delilah/Sylas as two side of the same coin since she would "pull a Delilah" if something happened to Percy.

The bone on Vax's shoulder was a physical manifestation of his tattoo of Keyleth's antlers. It was the one part of his humanity the Raven Queen couldn't control.

Liam was inspired by the short story "The Jaunt" when deciding how Vax was going to appear at the wedding. Vax has been gone for a year, but that doesn't mean he's experiencing time the same way as the rest of Vox Machina.

Laura fully thought Vax would come back exactly the same as he was when he died. Liam thought that all of Vax's decisions needed to have consequences.

Laura and Liam both feel like this one shot was the end of Vox Machina's story.

It felt good for Laura and Liam to be "twinsies" again.

Vex would have reacted differently if Vesper was at the wedding instead of alseep. She didn't bring it up to avoid giving Sylas another weakness to exploit.

Liam could accept every other member of Vox Machina dying except for Vex because "he made a deal."

Names of Derrig's family members (please note that I totally guessed on spelling): his wife is Nell; his three girls are Baroni(?), Litan, and Maeve; and his son is named Will.

Sam and Marisha both thought they were Taliesin's/Percy's best man. They told Sam he was next to Vex and he had to rewrite his speech (he had one prepared Percy). Laura didn't write down the wedding vows ahead of time, but did prepare them beforehand .

[aetherlocket]

Follow the River

BNHA X READER

Fantasy AU

This is chapter 1. Read the rest on FFNET, AO3 or Wattpad!!

There was a great white palace that was impossible to not catch eye of peering over a fog blanketed summit, where King Enji, Prince Shoto, and Enji's other children resided. Many knights guarded the palace and served under the King, and (Y/n) was one of them.

She was born and raised to become a warrior and serve for one in a higher position. It was something of a family tradition for the women to become something of the sort. Her father was more of a businessman, her grandfather a chauffeur, while her mother was a dragon hunter, and her grandmother also a knight, though not quite so skilled.

Although (Y/n) didn't have the natural talent her female family did when it came to fighting, she tried her best and eventually earned the respect of many skilled warriors in the Kingdom of Yuuei. Every day, she seemed to learn something new in the art of combat, while dedicating her life to the protection of Prince Shoto.

Only few, including her, knew of the corruption underlying King Enji and his family. The blatant favoritism when it came to King Enji choosing his heir went overlooked and uncontested in the community due to his outstanding reputation.

On the road not too far off from the great palace was a white horse. (Y/n) the knight handled the frantic animal attached to the carriage as if it was nothing, and Prince Shoto watched carefully as if he would learn just by watching her armor covered hands move the reins.

"How far is this kingdom?" he asked.

"If you fall asleep, it'll feel like nothing," the knight's voice was echoey and serious inside the steel helm.

"So it's far." Shoto sighed and his eyes fluttered closed as well, sinking into his seat just a bit. "All I must do is speak with this noble's daughter, correct? And then I may go home?"

"Yes. I've forgotten her full name, but your own father is considering a marriage between you two," (Y/n) replied without hesitation.

"I- what?" Shoto blinked. "Why hasn't he told me this?"

There was no response.

"Why do you know, but not me?"

(Y/n) stayed silent, and only swallowed nervously.

"Ah," Shoto sighed. "I see. You weren't supposed to say that."

"Please don't tell King Enji I said anything.." (Y/n) squeaked, not befitting for a warrior graced with the strongest armor and sharpest sword in the kingdom.

"Don't worry about it.." Shoto's voice lowered as he turned his head to the side, watching the trees rapidly pass by him, his hair covering some of his view as a frown made its way to his face. (Y/n) turned her head away from the road for a second to make sure Shoto was alright, and something in his expression flicked a switch in her.

"I.. You know, he isn't sure. It's just to see if she's up to his standards, I guess. Not a guarantee-"

"Won't you get in trouble if you keep talking?" Shoto said with his usual dead tone, but he was just a bit relieved on the inside. He had no intention on marrying anyone, and being forced to would further destroy the already unbearable relationship between him and his father.

(Y/n) nodded without a sound and focused her eyes on the road from then on. But then Shoto pouted. He wanted to know more.

"How do you feel about this?" Shoto asked. "This.. marriage."

(Y/n) hesitated for a moment before answering. "This.. is what the King wants, so there isn't much I can do about it. I just don't agree with it, per say... It's not right..."

"That's all I needed to know," Shoto replied.

(Y/n) always wondered what was going on inside of Shoto's mind, and that moment was no exception. He was an enigma. She didn't blame him for being cold at times, however.

She also wasn't particularly so sure about that area. She hadn't been to their destination before, so she simply trusted her instincts and a ripped map to take her and Prince Shoto there.

Being trusted with such an important figure in the kingdom gave her stomach butterflies. As she began to feel a smile free itself from under her helmet, the carriage came to a sudden halt, throwing both (Y/n) and Shoto forwards.

"Step out slowly. Keep your hands in the air and don't try anything," said a voice, and a battle axe was pointed at the pair. Three, to be exact, one for each silhouette.

(Y/n) knew better than to reach for her halberd, and reassured Shoto with a quick, soft metal touch to his shoulder, slowly leaving the white carriage. "You're challenging someone with armor and a weapon while you're bare? I hope you know that you won't be leaving with the Prince."

"Oh, we don't care about the Prince. We just happened to hear from someone that you're carrying a lot of money in that carriage to offer the daughter of that noble," said a different man, presumably a second bandit. "But we may have to kill him if you resist. There's three of us, and only one has to get close to him. Your armor means nothing."

The third bandit made his way behind the carriage, closer to the Prince, just in case. Shoto gave (Y/n) a look, though she couldn't tell, facing away from him. She was already sweating in her armor from the sun and quite worn out from training, so this wasn't the ideal situation for her. And yet, she didn't downplay herself.

The knight lifted the front of her helm, exposing her face, riddled with sweat. "Yes, there is money. There's a bag next to where the Prince is sitting," (Y/n) said, taking the chance to look at Shoto. He shook his head, as if reading her mind, diverting his gaze to the bandits, his hands inching closer to his sword by the second.

"Before you go and do that," (Y/n) said, stopping the second bandit from walking past her, "Who gave you this information? Only us, the King and the noble were informed of this."

"I won't say. You'd have them executed. They're a big help, so we can't have that," he said, and smiled. (Y/n) cursed mentally. Was it one person, and the bandit refused to reveal their gender, or is it another group of people?

As the second man placed his foot on the edge of the carriage, (Y/n) halberd left it's holster, its tip barely making its way to the second man's neck before the edge of an axe was placed dangerously close to Shoto's neck as well.

"You're risking the life of your Prince? I don't understand you. Some knight you are," said the second bandit.

"I apologize," (Y/n) said, moving her halberd away from his neck.

"Thank you for the distraction," Shoto said, and before anyone could process it, blood fell down like a fountain to dirt. The second bandit tried to speak, only to cough up blood. "Speaking with a sword through your heart proves to be difficult, doesn't it?"

The loud thud of the large man hitting the floor made even the knight flinch, watching the man writhe in agony, holding his fist weakly against his heart for his last few moments. She then realized; she wasn't doing anything to help whatsoever.

"Fuck!" The other men had tried vigilantly to swing their axes at the Prince, who jumped back off of the carriage. It seemed that they had completely forgotten about the money, and focused their attention on the death of the Prince.

The knight missed her attack, but they couldn't even reach the Prince before a clean slice to their necks were delivered by who they were trying so desperately to kill. They went into a stiff paralysis and fell over, holding their necks and drowning in their own blood.

(Y/n) could only stand there mesmerized, lowing her bloody halberd, almost forgetting to wipe the acidic substance coating it.

She was also, frankly, ashamed.

The blood on her halberd wasn't because she had killed them, saving the Prince. It was splatter from the Prince having to defend himself with an incompetent knight by his side.

"I assume we'll have to reschedule this little trip," Shoto said, wiping some blood off of the edge of his lips and softly running his fingers through the docile horse's mane. "Turn the carriage around."

****

Many could tell, simply by watching (Y/n)'s face in the rare times she had her helmet off, or even completely covered, simply from her body language, that she didn't enjoy working in the palace. Even Shoto could tell how much energy wearing the heavy suit and sparring with the others as training took from her each day.

No one could blame her. No one liked working for Enji Todoroki. Ask anyone in the palace for their opinion of him, and it will be some variation of 'bastard' or 'good for nothing.' Ask people outside the palace, and it will be something positive or indifferent, because they believe whatever the newspapers tell them.

Shoto had asked his knight once: "What do you think of this idea; I run away from this place and start a new life."

To which (Y/n) blinked and removed her steel helmet, a way of expressing her concern. It was then that Shoto knew she was serious. "Are you really considering this?"

Shoto only nodded. He felt often like he had said too much, basically, whenever he spoke. His father did a great job of making this point around him.

"I understand," said (Y/n), to his surprise.

He expected a, 'You're delusional. You're a rich prince with everything you could ever want!' or, 'Don't take your position for granted. I'd kill to be in your place.'

"I doubt that," Shoto replied, attempting to provoke her into speaking her mind a bit more, hoping for more encouraging words.

"I can tell why you do, my Prince," (Y/n) said. It wasn't working.

Shoto sighed. "I can't talk to anyone without them treating me like a Prince. I'm just a normal kid on the inside, damnit.." His voice was as low as a whimper, but (Y/n) could hear every syllable as they left his mouth. She pretended not to hear and kept her head down.

***

Shoto hadn't dared to enter the knight's quarters without permission once before.. but he had made up his mind that night about something.

Shoto chuckled as he saw (Y/n) with her helmet still on as she slept. He removed it as slowly as possible, and wasn't surprised to see that her face was sweating uncontrollably with rosy cheeks, and her hair messy.

He almost forgot why he was there as (Y/n) began to wake up, presumably from the sudden influx of cool, fresh air hitting her face.

Shoto held his hand out before the girl could fully awaken. "Come, I'm leaving tonight."

"Prince? What do you mean leaving? Why are you in the knight's quarters? I-"

"Just get your armor and weapons and come," Shoto put a finger to her mouth, lightly squeezing her arm. She didn't dare protest any further. If it was the Prince's will, then she was meant to follow it, no matter what. But there was something off this time. He seemed happy, in a way, for once, without smiling. Shoto helped carry parts of her armor out of the quarters while she carried her halberd, most dangerous areas facing the ground as Shoto led the way.

"So what's happening exactly?" (Y/n) asked, stuffing some leftover yen into her pocket.

Shoto only walked into his room and gestured for the knight to join him. He was already wearing what he usually did, his royal attire embroidered especially for him along with his holstered sword. "I told you, we're leaving."

"You weren't kidding..?" The knight chuckled. "I understand you want to leave this place, but think about it. Your dad will do anything to get you back-"

"I don't care. I'd like to see him try," Shoto replied coldly, polishing his weapon and slipping on a few bracelets, hiding them under his sleeve. "I'm not going to that noble's place. I'm not marrying his daughter either, so I'll have to leave before the trip is rescheduled. Easy as that."

***

"So where.. exactly.. are we going?" (Y/n) asked the Prince.

"To a certain mountain," replied he.

"You don't mean.. That one.. right?"

After a brief moment of silence, (Y/n)'s worst fears were confirmed, and her tongue began to feel heavy in her mouth. "Sir.."

"Is there a problem?" Shoto asked, looking straight ahead as he walked.

"I'm.. not sure if I can protect you, if anything happens, if that makes sense."

Shoto stopped and turned to face the knight. "What are you talking about?"

"Well.. a few days ago.. those men trying to take the money.. and how I was basically useless.. You had to do everything yourself. It doesn't make sense-"

"You were tired," Shoto interrupted her, then continued walking.

(Y/n) stood there for a moment, staring at the ground before picking up her pace to match the Prince's again, until they reached the base of the mountain.

"Why are there steps?" (Y/n) asked.

"Mount Hosu used to be a tourist attraction.. it's closed because of the dragon rumored to live here now."

(Y/n) shivered. "Dragon."

"Did you say something?"

"Nope."

They continued forward, climbing up an unholy amount of steps before it split into two different paths. One of the paths was dry and bare, while the other had a stream of water beside it.

"Just follow the river," Shoto said, and walked along the path with the stream of water.

"How come you know this place so well, Prince?" (Y/n) asked. As far as she knew, Shoto stayed locked in the castle all his life, and only left under supervision from her or another trusted knight.

"It's not Prince anymore, just Shoto," the boy dodged the question expertly.

***

It took a while, but they finally arrived at the top. (Y/n) immediately used her survival skills. (Y/n) gathered dry wood and use a spindle stick to light a small ember. Shoto tried himself but failed, only giving himself some splinters from the wood.

With the knight's guidance, Shoto successfully managed to roast a wild animal. Of course, Shoto had really understood none of it, but nodded in silence, and hoped that she would help him later.

"Now that I've helped you.." (Y/n) began to trace her finger across the dirt. "How about you teach me more about fighting? A knight should know more, if not just as much, as their Prince. It only makes sense."

Shoto hummed. "You're already known as a strong warrior. I don't believe you need extra training."

"Please?"

"I'm nothing special.. I can't really teach."

"Please?" (Y/n) pleaded.

"... Tomorrow, maybe," Shoto relented. He walked over behind a tree and took out two folded tents.

"Did you plan this or something?" the knight asked.

"I've been considering it for a while, let's say."

As they settled, a teenage boy had just finished climbing up the same steep mountain as the Prince and the Prince's close knight, and he was exhausted. Then, as he caught his breath, he repeated his goal over and over in his head; to hunt down the dragon perched somewhere on this godforsaken mountain.

[itoshit]

I think I've never been that ready to break some skulls before. I took more weapons than usual, having two on my hips, two others on my thighs and finally, two again in my shoulder straps. I've never been a huge fan of knives, but still got one joining the strap on my leg.

Ran and Rindou were ready, Ran still had his unfamous baton. The others, Kakucho, Koko, Sanzu and Akashi, had guns like I did, ready to pull them out if needed.

Looking over Dante and his men, I noticed the same thing. But one of them looked particularly heavily armed.

Hey Dante, he's your sniper isn't he?

Yeah, we always bring one with us, someone who could change the course of our lives from afar. Also Manjiro, if I can call you that?

Nodding, I got inside the van, him sitting by my side.

Perfecto then. La Cosa Nostra bases its values and morals on their allies. Back in Osaka, I didn't intend to kill you nor severely hurt you. I hope it didn't bring too many inconveniences yeah?

Nothing I'm not used to. But I appreciate your help and concern though

Did you change your hair for your girl?

Cocking an eyebrow at him, I stayed silent.

My girl?

She is, isn't it? Look, I wanted to talk to you last time but I needed to check your strength before. We have minutes ahead so listen to me. In our family (note: the term family refers to the mafia here), women play an important role, and I'm not talking about their pussy. In La Cosa Nostra, we're not ashamed of parading with our girls, our wives. Some of us even have children, like me. I don't understand since when being with a woman in the underground scene made you look weak. Women give you strength, something to fight for. I don't know you very much, but I know how to spot an enamoured man. You're deep into it Manjiro. We have nothing but genuine intentions with Bonten, and we want our allies to be healthy and happy. If I could give you a piece of advice, when your girl will be freed, and I'm saying your girl because she's not a bitch or an animal, tell her how you feel. Life is short as the falling of snow, you could die tomorrow. Don't live with regrets buddy, that's the worst, trust me. Cherish the moments you've with her alright?

After his monologue, Dante smiled cheekily at me, patting my thigh. He wasn't wrong, I knew that. I knew that I'd feelings for Vee, but I was afraid she didn't. I let her enter my life and warm my heart of stone, and it could seem selfish but I didn't want to let her go, never.

You don't have to he ashamed of having feelings for a woman, or a man if that mattered. Partners influence our decisions on a daily basis, and without women in La Cosa Nostra, let me tell you, it would be a mess. They keep us on tracks, scold us when needed. My wife, showing me his ring right after, is my everything. She keeps me sane, Manjiro.

My men were in the other cars and only Dante and I, except our driver, were here.

I don't want to bring her in this life, she doesn't need more-

Sorry to break it to you buddy, but she's already deep enough. Her face is all over the news, you must have seen that yeah? Nodding at him, I kept my gaze on the window.

Then you know, the best thing you can do now is protect her from your world, by staying by her side. That way, these events won't occur ever again. The Yamaguchi-gumi is pulling a nasty move right now. Ones of our few rules are; never look at friends wives; respect wives. The Yamaguchi-gumi disregarded all of them.

Venus isn't my wife.

But you want her to be yours don't you?

Silence settling between us, I tried to imagine myself with her, having a future together.

Do you see a future with her ?

... yes

Here you go. When she'll be saved, you'll have to present her to me, the kitten seems feisty enough to make you go crazy for her

Smiling a bit at his words, I took a decision. As soon as this shit is over, Vee will move in with me. Officially this time. And I won't prevent her from having her life, I'll give her the freedom she wants and needs.

My phone vibrating into my pocket, I took it out. Vee?

But what I heard after made my blood boil. She was screaming, begging me to come and save her. Eyes opened wide at the sound playing in the car, I gripped the phone tightlty, breaking it in the process. Gritting my teeth, I lowered my face down, nails tearing the skin of my palms open.

I'm gonna kill them all, I swear to god, these bastards will regret the day they were born.

Dante's hand on my shoulder, I turned to him.

We'll get them. No one touches our wives, remember? You even dyed your hair to please her. They'll pay for it, no worries Manjiro.

And that's precisely when we arrived. Opening the van's door, I was met with my executives. Ran and Sanzu had a wicked smile on their faces. These two will probably have fun.

Destroy them. I don't want any of them alive at the end of the day. I don't fucking care how you process, break their neck, pierce their eyes, rip their bodies apart or burn them to hell, I want blood. Understood?

And as I gave them my orders, they bowed.

Your wish is our command, boss.

-Mikey

I've changed the presentation, it's easier to understand that way 😌

it’s so nice!

The pain had me passing out, waking up only from the slaps my torturer, who so generously told me to call him Koda gave me. I’d wake up, see the handle of the knife sticking out of my bloody, trembling thigh, get woozy and faint.

This time when I woke up, I didn’t even get to follow the routine established between us because Koda was in my face, gripping my cheeks roughly. It hurt from all his prior roughness, his finger edging closely to the lip he had split. C’mon, Vee. You know I don’t want to hurt you. Just tell me what you know. I’ll even let you go.

I knew nothing, just like I told him every time he asked, but since he wanted a different reaction, I’d give it to him. Nodding my head, I watched his face slack into a grin as he let mine go, granting me free rein to speak and move my head. The first thing I did with it was cock my head far back and send it slamming into his own, head butting the shit out of him. The impact made my vision blur for a bit, but the sickening crack I heard made it all worth it.

Venus, I corrected, spitting blood onto his now-bleeding nose. I might have broken it. It’s Venus to you, you piece of shit.

You stupid bi— Gunshots. An entire slew of them. Natalie burst into the room, body slick with sweat, eyes wide and nervous.

They’re here! Bonten’s here! My heart leaped. Mikey? They found out about our hideout much earlier than we expected them to! The sound of rapid fire rounds echoed around us, each one sounding closer than the last. If they kept that up, they’d be in this room in no time. The thought of Mikey raining hell down on their skulls made me much happier than I thought it would. They deserved it. I hope they got it. My cackle, sudden and wheezy, startled both Nat and Koda.

I stared Natalie dead in my eyes as I calmed down. You should run, I advised her. She had endangered my life twice, and although I would probably have little say in what happens to her now—she’d burnt too many bridges; Mikey wouldn’t hesitate to put a hole in her skull— so the least I could give her was a head start. You might be able to get out of here if you run now, because if Mikey gets his hands on you… I don’t even allow myself the pleasure of blinking as I speak, wanting my words to resonate deeply with her. So much so that even if she survived, she’d see my face. He will kill you, and I won’t be able to stop him. And you know the worst part, Nat? I don’t think I’ll want to.

The fear in her eyes was palpable like it was that day in the hideout, but I had no sympathy left to offer her. I also could have told her what Koda told me, let her know she’d done this all in vain, but I didn’t, allowing her to walk out of the door and my life for what just might be the very last time.

So, Koda, I turned my head back to look at him pacing. What’s the move? You gonna run too?

Somebody else came flying through the room as I asked him, an underling of his perhaps, yelling the same question I had just asked him in more or less words and a much louder volume. They’re coming, Koda! We have to go!

A certain bang made even me jump. It sounded like it was just around the corner from us.

What’re you gonna do, Koda?

I’m gonna fucking kill you, he snarled, putting the cold nozzle of a gun he yanked from his pocket to my head.

I tried to hide my dread with fearlessness. I don’t mind that, you’ll be coming to keep me company wherever I end up in five minutes. Maybe less.

I could hear the gun clicking as he turned off the safety, eyes level with me. I was about to die, and the funniest part was I wasn’t afraid. Perhaps I knew deep down that even if I did, I’d be avenged. That nobody who tortured me or sought to hurt me would leave this place with their lives or their limbs perfectly in tact. I don’t know what kind of person that made me, but with this gun to my brain, I don’t think I’d have much time to ponder it.

Mikey flashed in my head, my last memories with him. I didn’t even get to kiss him goodbye. I’d have to add that to my never ending list of regrets, not telling him how much he had come to mean to me in such a short time. That he mattered, that he wasn’t cursed. That he deserved to be happy.

A small smile came across my face as our memories played out in my mind. We had come so far, and I was proud of it. If it all came down to it, I lived an overall good life with some really big lows. Pretty alright for me.

Kill them, Manji, is the last wish I made to myself mentally, making sure it got out before my brain matter was splattered across the wall. Kill them all.