#and truely it is like showing them my soul

[miniimoose]

suggesting certain movies to people is like ripping open your chest and baring your soul

[threepandas]

Bad End - Chosen: Part 2

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When I remember the game, I mostly remember the outfits. The frills and ornate designs. In another life, I adored them. Now? They disgust me.

They disgust me because I know EXACTLY what it takes to make each and every dress the heroine so thoughtlessly runs through. Flinging herself through mud and climbing up trees in the name of be "plucky". Tearing them for bandages, as though she is not a SAINT with the power of the very GODS at her finger tips. All manner of so called "cute" actions that... that in reality?

Are thoughtless.

Needlessly, cruelly thoughtless.

It takes months to make even a single one of those dresses. Months. Heavy magic is involved. They defy gravity, are delicate and soft in ways no normal cloth could ever BE. The jewels on them? Ha. You think those came from earthly mines? Who could AFFORD that? No one. Not a single soul.

I once worked on some. For the daughter of a Duke. Awkward little thing. In turns, arrogant and insecure. More lonely then anything else. I was the first girl her age that WASN'T trying to use her for family or stab her in the back. It flustered her terribly. She kept coming up with reasons the dress "wasn't right" just so she could delay having to go home.

Never did admit to wanting to be friends.

But she DID graciously allow me to send her letters. Visit, on occasion.

I... I truely hope she made it out alive, when her Dukedom fell. Her family guarded the western front for generations. She was so stubborn. I... I doubt she fled. But in my heart? I hope she did.

I hope she was selfish.

Everyone else gets to be. That BITCH, gets to be. So why not her? Why not that insecure child? Bratty and bold? Why not Cordelia, who only ever wanted to make her bastard of a father proud? Why... w-why not me?

My anger isn't gone, when I open my eyes. But my exhaustion and sorrow are far stronger. I can't feel my magic. It would be a suprise too. What fool, after all, captures a Mage then let's them keep their access? Even a mouse is dangerous, given enough time, as the saying goes. And I was no mouse.

I hang in a remarkably pretty room, for a dungeon. My arms do not even strain. I suspect I am partially floating. Not enough for leverage, but enough that my weight is not hanging from my arms. I am merely anchored by them. It has the added benefit, I suspect, of keeping me from using the floor to aid in any escape plans.

There is a comfortable chair placed in front of where I hang. Ominous. Is my suffering going to be a show then? Some amusement? They'll be disappointed. I refuse to give them the satisfaction. I know people break. But I'll bite my tongue long befo-

My dark musings are cut off, by the quite sound of a door opening on well oiled hinges into a dead silent room. The crisp step of a powerful man, assured of his place, his path. The door is behind me, yet I already know who has just entered the room. Fear, rage, and confusion have already SEARED that scent into my brain. I will die knowing it.

I grit my teeth and refuse to acknowledge him.

"Awake and already in quite the mood, I see. Understandable, I suppose, Grandlearner." The MONSTER who has me, muses, his voice terribly pleasant. "You were in quite the wretched state. Still are, unfortunately, but we will be fixing that."

I want to hiss like a cat. It is beneath me. Would probably do nothing but amuse him. But I suddenly understand the animal more then I ever have before. If he gets near me, I will BITE. I swear to the very gods I DISPISE. I will do it!

He strolls into my field of vision holding a silver serving tray. Little dishes of finger foods. I have a sinking suspicion but immediately shove it away. No. No, it is probably for him. The tray is placed upon a side table, next to the chair. He hasn't looked at me directly yet. Merely fussing as though hosting a guest.

He stands up, finished. Turns. And SMILES.

The fear I have been so desperately trying to control breaks from of my desperate hands. I jerk back in the chains, as far as I am able. Cold sweat beading up across my skin. I can't run. Even if I could, this close? I'd never make it. But primal instincts do not listen to reason. Run, run, RUN! It HOWLS in my brain.

There has never been a more dangerous man.

He is not even threatening me.

He's just not hiding.

He hums, amused as I shake. Gentle steps forward. Gloved hands I can not escape. They cup my face as my lungs feel like they are burning with panic. Brain certain he is moments from tightening his grip, brutally, and snapping my neck. It never comes. His hands dangerously gentle. Stroking my cheeks possessively.

"Look at you... so malnourished. Barely trained at all. My poor Grandlearner," he all but sighs, as though he is looking at the proof of some great crime. Some failing against him. "Look how useless that boy has been. Dropping you in battlefields to do his job for him, while he goes panting after children a fraction his age. A lecherous failure at every turn. More a temple's dog then a mage."

The air has slowly turned to burning ice, as he grows angrier. But his eye flicks down to meet mine, no longer staring through me, but AT me. And his smile warms. It is a manic, mad man's warmth. Like the burning of a city. He slides his hands down to cup my neck, cradle my head. I freeze. Too afraid of the hands on my neck to protest as he leans forward to press a kiss to my forhead.

"Mmmm, but enough of that. No more bad thoughts. Let us focus on the now. You, my dear child, need to eat. And I have so much to LEARN about you! So many years lost between us. I have brought several dishes for you to try."

An incredulous laugh found itself trapped in my throat. Is he serious? He has me chained up like a trophy, has BUTCHERED my men, unknown intentions towards me, and he... what? Wants me to eat adorable little snacky treats?

He is completely serious.

And, I find out, has no problem forcing me to open my mouth. If I "can not behave myself", that is. I see, all to clearly, what his plan is. Stockholm Syndrome. Brainwashing. But... but being AWARE of something does not stop it from WORKING on you. How long can I hold out?

Longer then this cycle? Will he remember, as I do? Try to find me again? I don't know. Without my magic, I can not fight the fear. Even with my magic... he is the dragon to my ant. I can not even hope to match my Master, much less HIS Master. And the legendary Arch-Mage of Red? It would be easier to drain a lake with a spoon. Move a desert handful by handful.

Hands that have slaughtered countless, card themselves through my hair, as I am once again forced to eat some little decadence that tastes like ash and ruin on my tounge.

"See? Isn't this so much better?" He croons, too close and triumphant. A mockery of doting grandfather's everwhere. "With Grandmaster here, you'll never have worry about a thing. We'll correct your training, get you back where your supposed to be, and together? Fix this broken world. Be GODS. You'll be such a shining little God, sweet one. Spring, perhaps? We can pick the domain you want together~"

"I'll help you kill them. Take their heart and devour it. Then? Nothing will ever be able to take you from me ever again. No, not ever, ever again."

[yourlocaltreesimp]

A Hero’s guide on how to heal pt. 2

pushing my chubby sky propaganda again. @biblicallyinaccuratespoons come get your food. This is a part 2, but you do not need to read part 1 to understand what is going on.

CW: Senstitive topics, proceeded with caution

Part 1 is non x reader

Part 2 (you are here) is an x reader because i’m a simp

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Truly, Sky was proud of how far he’d come. He was content to not be in what the people thought as ‘his prime’ anymore, especially since he knew what it really entailed. The life of a hero is appealing until you become familiar with being so hungry you can feel the emptiness carving at your sternum, and so tired you hallucinate.

Being a hero sounds glamorous until that’s all you ever get to be.

It’s all you let yourself be — perfection. And nothing else.

Truely, he never much cared for the term anyway.

That sentiment only becomes truer once he looks past the beginning of his journey.

When he was allowed to simply just be himself.

He was scrawny and awkward. He fumbled his way through life and confrontations, doing whatever he felt was right. He slept through his classes and would sneak into the kitchen at night to steal food.

He didn’t need top marks like Zelda, or a group of yes men like Groose.

He only cared to be content with himself.

Of course, this all fell apart come the time when he’d attach his self worth to his performance as hero.

Once his thoughts began to shift, thinking that not only did he have to save Skyloft and kill demise, but that he needed to live up to this tall tale of what he was supposed to be. That this heroism, ingrained in his very soul, was the marker of his being. This is why he lived.

So he began to build his life around it.

His schedule did not revolve around fulfilling his own life as much as it did saving others.

Perhaps, then, it’s no surprise the people in Hyrules following make him out to be something he isn’t. A vague, shifting figure amidst a surprisingly rigid history. In the act of changing and melding himself to every point of view, every requirement and request, he tucked the truth of himself further away from the eyes of history.

Truthfully, and perhaps slightly shamefully, Sky admits that he would’ve done anything to live up to those expectations. More than he already had.

If someone had told him, at his most vulnerable, that he had to die a martyr, he wouldn’t have even dug a grave.

That thought was a comfort back then. That maybe he’d be asked to just give up. That he’d be relieved of his service. That he’d be perfect in the eyes of history. That despite the fact he was hungry, and tired, and sick, and aching, he’d done what he needed to do.

If death cleansed his soul and finally made him good enough, life was no longer worth living.

Now, he wishes he could go back.

To tell that younger version of himself that it’s ok.

That he’s not perfect and never will be. But it feels so much better when you’re loved for who you are rather than who you wish you’d be.

Admittedly, though, he couldn’t have learned that on his own. All of Skyloft knew him from before and would love him regardless of how much he’d seek to harm himself.

He would’ve never fixed himself if he stayed stagnant.

He needed change.

He needed the change to crack and to break him before he could be remolded and refused.

In the end, he didn’t save himself. Even if he was The Hero.

It was the chain, their brotherhood and support that showed him there were people that understood. People who actually wish for you to be better (as in actually wanting you to be healthy rather than stronger or faster). People who’ve been through the same struggles and problems. People who know what he needs and how to support him.

All at once, he wasn’t alone anyone.

There was so much of himself in each of them. It was impossible to be alone.

Beyond that was you. His lover. That showed him constantly how love should make you giddy and proud of what you are instead of hungering to be more, even if it was ‘to your advantage’ (but you never did care about how he benefited you, did you? he was always more to you than his abilities). You didn’t care for some hero and their acts of service to the goddesses.

You cared about an awkward dork who couldn’t even think about you without his lovesick heart fluttering.

But perhaps most ironically of all; he achieves more now than he did back when he thought suffering meant efficiency.

He can strategize for more enemies and more complex group dynamics when he’s fully slept. He can work his muscles for longer and at higher intensity than when he was skin and bone. He doesn’t feel that aching sense of emptiness, the nausea of hunger looming over him.

He’s comfortable, the chill no longer nipping at his bones when there’s layers of healthy fat to insulate him.

He’s comfortable, You’re able to curl up onto his chest without crushing him.

He’s comfortable. He finally feels right in his skin. That this is where he’s supposed to be, and exactly who he’s supposed to be. Regardless of what people expect of him, regardless of what people judge of him.

[millie-multifics]

Though I Yearn • Part 8

Masters of the Air x Reader

Secret Admirer (Revealed)

A string of anonymous letters causes a stir at Thorpe Abbotts. Who could be the author of the tender correspondence you have been recieving?

Warnings: Spoilers for the admirers identity if you have yet to read Part 7, mentions of death, implied nudity, and it’s a little cheesy.

Word Count: ~1.3k

Masterlist Previous Final Part- Coming soon!

Sorry for the long af wait but just got my cast off from breaking my dominant hand soo it’s been a rough go. I appreciate everyone’s support with this series 🩵💙

x x x

Everyone at Thorpe Abbotts had grown increasingly weary throughout the winter months, losing more men each mission while trying to recover from the great losses of autumn.

It seemed with each mission you rose earlier and earlier, eventually you ceased finding any sleep after that dreaded red light flashed for the men.

“Good morning, gentlemen.” You greeted Douglass and Blakely with a smile, two cups of steaming black coffee already prepared. It had become a ritual for a few of the men to skip breakfast with the replacements, settling for one of your hot cups of coffee and chain smoking cigarettes to ease their unsettled stomachs.

Everett could see the exhaustion in your eyes, the burden of serving these men with a smile, knowing a fraction will not return was taking its toll.

“Sleep at all?” He asked, his worry palpible by the way his eyebrows creased in the centre.

“Your feet being on solid ground allows me to breathe but sleep evades me.” You admit, reaching to smooth the front lock of his hair that frequently escapes his attempted neat styling.

“Does that mean I don’t qualify for a kiss from my guardian angel this morning?”

Douglass groaned, smothering his cigarette butt into the dirt with his heavy, polished boot. “Sometimes I miss when she would only talk to you because she was ignoring my ass.”

“He’s a little on edge right now, our little James is attempting commitment.” Everett explained, sending the bombadier an amused glare. “On the topic of commitment, the hut will be clear for a few hours tonight for Rosie’s 25th mission festivities. Maybe we can catch up on some sleep.”

“Yeah, sleep, I’m sure that is what will be happening in there.” Douglass rolled his eyes at your lovesick, teenage antics.

“Speaking of Rosie, where is the lucky bastard?” You asked, he usually cut out of breakfast early to clear his head of all the nervous replacements chatter.

“Luck has nothing to do with it, he is a damn good pilot.” Blakely mused, “If I didn’t fly so damn good myself, I’d want to be in his fort.”

“Speak of the devil… coffee?” You offered as the mustached pilot appeared under the rolling, grey clouds.

“Please.”

You raised your own coffee to toast, “All the best today boys, and Rosie? Give ‘em hell.”

“This it the worst part, the waiting.” Helen broke the silence in the clubmobile. You were sitting in the chairs provided, awaiting the arrival of the men before you would make your way to what had become the Interigation centre to welcome the men back, help them feel comfortable and recognize they were back on solid ground. “Do you think Rosie will make it? It feels like it has been ages since a crew has done it.”

You glanced over the spine of the book in your hands, it had been open for about an hour now but if Helen had noticed you had yet to turn the page she did not mention it. “Rosie is a great pilot, I wouldn’t start doubting his abilities now.”

You flipped your page for show, eyes drifting over the page but not reading the black ink.

“Do you truely love Everett?”

“I do.” You did not need to think as the words slipped past your lips.

“How does it feel to love someone like that?”

You shut the book, placing it on your lap as you pictured your handsome pilot in your minds eye, “It’s like having a perfect, hot cup of tea on a cold day, its a warmth that envelopes your mind, body and soul. I feel all of his emotions tenfold, when he is happy I am blessed, when he is mad I am enraged and when he struggles with sadnesss I feel his grief. I yearn for his presence when he is away and revel in it when he is near, I no longer dream of going home because Everett has become my home.”

Helen looked thoughtful for a moment, “I think I could have felt it once but I only had one marvelous evening with him, Lieutenant Nash, but he was killed on his first mission.” She confessed for the first time since it had happened. “I just hope that one day I might feel that way fully, for longer than a day.”

“And Lieutenant Nash was Rosie’s friend so you’re wandering what might have happened had he made it back that day.”

Helen nodded, solemly, opting to change the subject from the handsome young man that had swept her off her feet quite unexpectedly. “I heard some of the Red Cross Ladies may be relocated when Europe is invaded, spread the resources and morale to the men at the front.”

“Let’s not worry about that right now.”

Warmth radiated from the two wool blankets drapped over your entangled bodies, it was a stark contrast from the rain pouring down outside. You felt at peace, the harsh drops pounding on the roof above and the sounds of your calm breathing filled the silence. Everett groaned as he pulled himself to a sitting postion, reaching to the bedside table for his carton of cigarettes. You shifted lazily to rest your head on his chest, pulling the blanket with you to shield his bare torso from the chill that hung in the March air.

“There have been whispers.” You spoke quietly, afriad to break the serenity.

“About us?” Everett leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your shoulder.

You smiled, “Those whispers never stop, every time we get a new wave of replacements they love to chatter- I think Kidd will lose his head if he has to talk to us one more time about discretion.”

“What’d you hear?”

“Helen heard that some of the girls will be allocated after the invasion of Europe,” The details were unknown but it hung over the continent like an impending storm. “That could mean-“ You paused, your fingers ghosted over the chain around his neck, tracing his name etched into the cold metal. “I used to be prepared for this, when I first volenteered I had steeled myself over, I was ready to tredge through trees, mud and blood but we were placed here. Thorpe Abbotts may have its share of mud after the rain but it has been hot cups of coffee, laughter over a drink, dancing through our pain and… you. I sincerely don’t know what I would do without you by my side.”

Blakely remained silent for a moment, contemplating your worries and soft confession as he discarded his unlit cigarette and matches onto the trunk beside his small bed. “There is no shame to be scared in this world.”

“Says the brave pilot who has looked death in the eye countless times and denied its knock.”

“Would it make you think any less of me if I were to admit that I get scared? Every time that red light turns on, everytime I climbed into that Pilot seat and everytime I look at you.” He confessed, voice soft as his warm breath brushed your throat. “We should get married. Tomorrow.”

“You jest.” You met his eyes, they were wide with vulnerabilty and an unexpected sincerity.

“I am serious.” He insisted, gently manuvering your body to be seated facing him. The rough pads of his fingers caressing the soft skin of your cheeks as he pressed on, “I want to marry you, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, no matter how long that may be.”

“Everett-“

“It does not have to be tomorrow. I can accept if you want to marry tomorrow or wait however many years, just please say yes to being my betrothed.”

Emotion overwhelmed you as you nodded your head feverantly, tears slipping down your cheeks only to be wiped away ever so softly by his thumbs. “Yes, yes, I will marry you, Everett Blakely.”

x x x

@jointherebellion215 @yorkshirekiwi @gretagerwigsmuse @seoultraveller @orchiidflwer @lucyfromtheoldhouse @kpopdistoyedmylife-blog @probabydeadbynow @claireelizabeth85 @solo-pitstop-vibes @timetowastetime8 @thebenjiblackwoodexpress @beingalive1 @bunnylil-reblogs @p-polaroid @ktredshoes @winniemaywebber @ginabaker1666

[sunarinss]

IYNTBM, BMTM || S.GOJO

A/N: So i haven’t written on tumblr (or written anything of substance) for years but the one thing i can hopefully still convey is angst about my sad little loverboys, so hopefully somebody who reads this enjoys me picking at gojos little fucked up brain … cont at the end

inspired by ‘I don’t smoke’ -Mitski

The bed was always cold when you woke up.

No matter how many layers covered you as you slept, each time he would creep away when the sun-rays coated the land in their golden haze, he would steal the warmth out of your bed.

Satoru Gojo was a taker.

He was a thief in the night as he stole into your room, the way he stole the warmth cultivated by the two of you whilst you slept in your bed, the way he sucked your heart out of your chest and hid it behind saccharine kisses. Pressed against you in the darkest hours of the night he felt so real, his hands on your body, his lips on your neck, his arms around your waist, he felt so real and vivid, so corporal in the darkness of your room but in the daylight he was so far removed from yourself that you had rush to the nearest bathroom and gaze at the memories of him that littered your skin.

You had to force yourself sometimes to recall when he wasn’t like this.

When he was the same boy you knew in highschool, carefree, young, unbothered. He was brash and boastful and his laughter was truely carefree. When he used to dangle things above your head and throw himself over your shoulders like a cat begging for attention, days when he would beat you at the arcade and jokingly flaunt his prizes in front of you only for them to end up in your arms before you reached the school under the guise of them being “too heavy for him”.

Those who knew him were subjected to arrogant remarks, vain declarations and overdramatic charm, to others he was playful, unserious, without an anchoring belief but tucked into your room, tangled between your sheets as his mouth kissed trails below your waistline, you knew he believed in something. You knew because how could he infuse such reverence into his touches? how could he be so well versed in the worship he showed to your form if he wasn’t devoted to something?

But the devotion he gave you through his nimble fingers and hallowed touch was never meant for you, it was only the spillage of what crossed over from the daylight, the extra overflow from the hours when the sun stood high in the sky and he was ‘The Honoured One’. It was fine, something you had made peace with long ago when your skin was unmarred by the passing of time, in the light he belonged to the world, a god amongst men for them to revere but when the moon greeted the stars and he crawled to you to find his escape, you were his until the moonlight faded and your skin could no longer feel the heat pour though his body entwined with yours.

You were his but he was never yours.

From the moment he stole into your covers all those years ago, after Suguru had severed their bond like a loose thread, you had let him into your room, let him undress you like a deer being skinned, let him steal your kisses and strip you of your breath. Perhaps that was where you first went wrong, letting him burrow his way into you and imprint himself into your soul and mind, letting him run to you for an escape from himself and draw immeasurable distance from you when the sun lit up the sky.

Even now as his warm arms wrapped around your waist, as his breaths became steady and slowed, even now as his eyes fluttered shut as his head rested on your chest and he angled his body onto yours, even as his body heat soaked into your bones and his breaths warmed your skin, slowly you reach for the extra blanket on the side of your bed and spread it over the both of you, he would probably overheat with it on but you didn’t give that much thought as you settled into your pillows, it was the only time you allowed yourself to be selfish, after all:

The bed was always cold when you woke up.

© to @/cafekitsune for the beautiful dividers

A/N cont: Ahhhh i love pouty, loving Toru but i’m also such a freak that i psycho analyse this man whenever i get the chance, love picking at his fucked up little brain and his past relationships (romantic or otherwise) and the effects that’d have on him and how he treats his new and current relationships.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

HEY IM SO GLAD THAT YOURE BACK

My favorite person I missed you!

I sould like to ask for a little recanation reader with ror pls!

While bruhilda is summoning hero's to fight for humanity she wanted to see if she could speak to Nyx the goddess of night and the only god that zeus truely fears and even Odin has reasons to be wary of her.

But turns out that the queen of the night had fallen in battle and has gone through recanation and now lives as a human teacher living in texas (like me in the future!)

Bruhilda had no idea about this when she summon nyxs recantations and was surprised when she was greeted by the sight of a human woman who was trying to grade her 3 grade class test from last friday.

Hijinks and whimsy ensue as nyx reader has memories reawaken during her time in Valhalla( its magic anything can happen) and regains old and new friends during her time there (and maybe love?!)

Can i also ask for her taking place in adams when fighting Zeus to show the old man what happens when you fuck around and you'll most definitely find out?

-Brunnhilde was desperate, she needed a wild card fighter, a true wild card fighter, one that could shake the gods to their core with power.

-A lightbulb seemed to go off in her head as she made the realization that only a god could do that to another god, but she had pissed off about every single god in Valhalla when she proposed Ragnarok, so there weren’t any gods that she could easily approach to ask.

-A soft gasp escaped her lips as she remembered someone, someone who had been lost long ago, in a terrible battle, the goddess Nyx, who could make the earth tremble, the sky shake, and even bring Zeus to his knees.

-It took a bit of research, as time was running out to select fighters, but Brunnhilde finally found you, finding your soul and instantly she prepared the ceremony to summon you!

-You were sitting at your kitchen table, a cold cup of coffee sitting to the side of you as you yawned, trying to get through the rest of the tests you were grading for your third-grade class. It was late Friday night, and you were trying to wrap things up so you could enjoy your weekend.

-You felt your vision going hazy, just for a moment or two before you landed hard on your rear with a sharp cry, landing on a hard stone floor before you heard a woman’s voice, “Oh no!”

-You looked up, initially confused as to where you are and how you got there before your eyes went wide, “Brunnhilde? Wait- how- stars above! What happened?!”

-Brunnhilde was in about as much shock as you as she panicked, “Lady Nyx?!” you scrambled to your feet, memories of your previous life as the goddess of the night came rushing back to you, recalling everything, including how you died.

-The Valkyrie stammered, having not realized that you had been reincarnated as a human, she had only tracked your soul, not realizing that a whole body was going to come with it!!

-You went to speak when Jack and Nikola entered the room, looking for Brunnhilde as they both had a question to ask her and ran into each other on the way and they entered to find Brunnhilde with an unknown woman, both looking a bit frantic.

-You turned, seeing these two enter and your eyes instantly went wide before your pupils seemed to take over your eyes, shrouding them in darkness as you fell back, almost as if you were going to faint as Brunnhilde lunged to catch you, “Lady Nyx!!”

-Shadows and darkness shrouded your body, enveloping you and forcing Brunnhilde back into the arms of the men who were stunned and concerned, Nikola holding his wrist up to his nose to block the dust, “What’s happening?!”

-As quickly as it started you rose, still looking similar to the form Brunnhilde summoned you with, only with pure black eyes that seemed to sparkle with stars of the night sky, wearing a flowing black gown that seemed to have stars sewing into the fabric and a crown baring the crest of both a moon and a star appeared around your forehead.

-You exhaled deeply, as if you had experienced a rush of energy before you looked over at the three individuals, “Are you all unharmed?” you seemed to be exuding an aura of power, one that they could all easily sense that you were dangerous, but there was no hostility.

-The three of them explained to you, after you asked why you had been summoned back to Valhalla, and the two humans were stunned to learn that you were Goddess of the Night herself, Nyx, brought back after you had died so long ago.

-You learned of Zeus and the plans of the other gods, to wipe out humanity rather than taking care of their messes themselves and how Brunnhilde brought about Ragnarok to give humanity a chance.

-You were easily able to tell there was something else that Brunnhilde was planning, you weren’t completely sure what, but you knew, and she could tell that you knew.

-Jack introduced himself as Jack the Ripper and instead of looking frightened, you almost looked amused, giving him a small smile, “Creatures, monsters, and myths of the night are all my children, dear one, and you are no monster- at least the one you claim to be.” He was stunned, eyes wide that you were able to tell, but then again, you were a goddess.

-Nikola was… very enthusiastic, he reminded you of an excited puppy, as he had been wanting to talk to a god and began to rattle off questions, curious about you, and both Brunnhilde and Jack thought it was amusing to see Nikola so excited.

-You were very calm on the outside, not showing your emotions, but Jack could tell you were furious, the bright, angry red color of your soul, plus the heat you were radiating out, was a clear indication as you learned of the actions of the gods over the years, how cruel and evil they had been. Humans didn’t have clean hands either, but the gods had the power to correct not only the humans, but correct themselves as well, but did nothing, choosing to turn a blind eye just to destroy everything to get rid of the problem they created and ignored.

-You looked over at Brunnhilde with a knowing smile, “May I take it that the reason I was summoned was to fight for you, dear Brunnhilde?” she bowed her head, being respectful to you, “It is- or at least to ask for your insight on the champions for the matches, if you are willing?”

-Your eyes seemed to flash, something Nikola leaned in close to see, which you thought was rather cute before you smirked, “I will fight- but only on my terms.” Brunnhilde bowed her head again, thanking you but Jack could see that her colors of elation were dancing on the inside.

-You were impressed with Lu Bu’s raw strength, being able to go against Thor of all gods, and managed to injure him, just a little, and you could see the joy on both of their faces as they had fun together, never wanting their fight to end.

-When Zeus entered the arena as the next opponent, taking Shiva’s spot, your eyes seemed to dance as you approached Brunnhilde and Adam. You smiled gently at Adam, “Forgive me, but I wish to take your place. Zeus is going to learn an important lesson today.”

-Brunnhilde nodded, agreeing to the terms and sent the update so Heimdall could introduce you while Adam gave you a firm nod, “Save my children.” Your hand on the top of his head was comforting as you gave him your silent vow before you walked out.

-Heimdall was stunned when you walked out, before stunning everyone as he shouted, “It’s the return of the night! Fighting for humanity- resurrected and ready to rumble- Goddess of the Night- Nyx!!”

-Zeus was stammering, his knees knocking together as your dark gown swirled in the wind before you glared across the field and slowly, as if he was watching something terrible in slow motion, your hands came to your hips, “Zeus- would you like to explain yourself?”

-Many humans who didn’t know you were stunned, seeing that not only Zeus, but many of the gods looked downright terrified of you, many talking about how they needed to do something to appease you and quickly, telling everyone that you were easily one of the strongest, if not the strongest, gods in Valhalla.

-You did not kill Zeus, no- you wanted him to fix his mistakes, but that didn’t mean he walked away from the match uninjured. The first bitch slap you landed sent a shockwave throughout the stadium, sending Zeus flying into the sky above before you proceeded to wipe the floor with him.

-You called out all of his bullshit, wanting to destroy humanity after he let them get out of hands, treating humans like play things, not being able to keep it in his pants, and calling out the rest of the gods as well for not doing more, as it’s their job, as the creators of humanity, to manage them, and just because they got out of hand, it’s not okay to just brush them under the rug and destroy them.

-After you left Zeus in a steaming pile of lumps and bruises your hands rose to your hips again, “We the gods are going to have another meeting- now!” nobody opposed you, not even Odin, as the gods were quick to file out, moving to the meeting hall.

-You met up with Brunnhilde and Adam who both thanked you, happy to see that hopefully something was going to happen to prevent this tournament from going any further.

-You were known as a goddess of chaos, but at this point, all you wanted now was peace, and you were going to get it, Zeus was going to make sure of that, because a happy Nyx means a happy Zeus and the other gods.

[xxxairheadedangelxxx]

My boyfriend and I were talking after ep 12 of trigun(Massive spoilers btw if you have not seen it so I'm sorry) and the colors being used as when Vash comes out of the gate and gets his bodily autonomy back. He pointed out that Vash is actually purple. The gate itself in cube form is purple, his glasses and accents are purple, the flowers have a purple tone to them.

We realized that this was the culmination of the women in his life who have had the most intense impact on him. Growing up and what his core philosophy is based off of is Rem. Rem and the bright red geraniums. His memorized tinged with red and her spirit in his mind being this flow of crystalline red(which feels like it visually moves and might represent how she is like his life blood? Like she will always be flowing through his veins but that might be a total reach).

But the voice that calls him out from the darkness, shatters the fake imagery that Knives used to trap him inside of his own mind. The woman who, just like him, is "not long for this world" Meryl Stryfe. The very first time she encounters flowers they are all this brilliant sky blue. Catching the accents of her jacket, brightening the blue in her eyes, showing this determination to save this world and Vash along with it.

I think Ep 12 really solidifies Vash *finally* discovering himself. Not just defining himself by one person and her dream and atoning for his sins that led to her death but seeing that there are people who truely deeply care about him and want to see him not just live but succeed and thrive. A human who, against every single solitary warning, refuses to let him do this alone because HE matters. What HE can do.

Blending these two together to create something new in himself and end the suffering. Realize what he really deeply truly wants. And that is to keep fighting for the humans. Keep fighting not just for the ones he loves and who love him but those who hate his guts and want him dead. He will wait till things die down and cautiously reapproach.

Meryl and Rem blending together in his soul to give him the conviction to finally fight against knives and not bend to his will. Take back his autonomy and do something about it.

This is quite possibly incredibly incoherent I am so very bad at vocalizing what I say but I just have ALOT OF FEELINGS ABOUT VASH AND MERYL IN EP 12 I HAVE TO GET OUT

[yan-snowcave]

"As I told you so long ago my Perfect Soul, whatever path you take, whatever you turn into. I will always be by your side, human, beast, angel or even a demon like myself. In the end we are bound by our entwined souls, even as time coorode our souls and death feasts upon our flesh. We will always be toghether and that's a promise my Perfect Soul."

[Anyone want some Non-Human Milo's? Then I have just the thing for you, we have a Hellhound, a DemonPrince and an 'Angel' to choose from! More Information about them like always down below and also some more comments from Makura]

Hellhound!Milo

- He has two hounds that are almost always bound to his own collar, their names are Clock & Burger (they are highly protective of Milo and his Partner)

- Leads a large pack of Hellhound who obey his every word, they sometimes act a lot like a Hivemind

- Milo can connect himself to a chosen hellhound and see through their eyes and hear what they hear. He uses this to be by his Partner when he has to (reluctantly) do his job

- If he likes a person enough he might allow them to name a hound (he named most of them though)

- Can Spit molten lava out of his mouth, thanks to this his mouth & teeth are immune to hot tempratures

- His general sense of smell & hearing has imrpoved immensily (also his puppy eye game just leveld to the max)

- Loves to get ear scritches, his tail will wag like crazy

- His job is to hunt down Souls who are trying to escape from the 4th layer of hell (Gluttony's Domain) If he deems the Soul an easy catch he unclips Clock's or Burger's leash and lets them hunt it down

["A hound trained to guard, realized soon that one head wasn't enough anymore. So he stitched two more heads onto his own. A false Cerberus with an army that obeys his commands and share his thirst for blood. That's my Perfect Beastly Soul."]

Demon Prince!Milo

- His transformation was the most painfull out of the three paths, after his body finished his transformation he passed out for a week. He also gained a very hight pain tolerance thanks to it

- His Demonic Beast form is in the same family as the Tatzelwurm & Seropard (Snake, Cat hybrid creatures)

- Will gladly fly around with his partner and even do small flying tricks to impress them since he's super agile in the air (he also does mating dances to impress his partner, like some of the tropical birds)

- Thanks to his feet being replaced with cat paws it's impossible to hear him walk unless he wants to be heard

- Is still learning how to controll his magical powers

- Milo can freely change his size when in his Demonic Beast form, so it's not uncommon to see a smaller Beast!Milo resting in his Partners lap

- He can also shapeshift into the animal that represents him, in this case it would be a Cat

- He has a strong Venom that paralyzes whoever he bites (if enough venom is injected it causes permanent paralyzation)

[A cat with the snakes tongue, oh how fitting it is for you to be consumed by it at last. Only for you to turn the table once again and be reborn as something better. A beast hidden in a Princes body, you truely are my Perfect Deceptive Soul]

'Angel'!Milo

- He has a highly intelgent bunny named "Tazer who turns into his Electric Spear weapon (Tazer is also acts as his emotinal support animal, after a few demons tried to eat him alive)

- He can change the Brightness and color of his halo, he can even set it up so it shows his emotions but he prefers to keep it it's regular mode

- When he's upset, angry or frustrated he does the lil' bunny thump

- Like owls, Milo dosent make any sound while flying

- His secret weapon are his ears which can rip apart to reveal something akin to a mouth or pincers. The spikes like teeth are strong enough to tear through bones like a hot knife through butter (when they are no longer needed they retract into the ears and seal themself up again)

- He has two small fangs which are freed during life threatining situation, these fangs contain high dosages of Black Mamba Venom

- The inside of his mouth is also fully black

- He has dug a few burrows out of instinct and gets embarassed when someone mentiones them (he has a main one where he stores important items & naps in even though he has his own privat room)

[A soul so pure yet tainted, strangely enough it isn't by our hands or that of those who had caused you pain. It simply is the dark corruption of love, the need for it so desprate that you would've done anything to just get a sliver of it. And after such a long time, you can finally can let go of it for you have found your way back home. To the place where you truely belong to, where the most powerfull creatures roaming around love you, my Perfect Pure Soul]

[thomase1]

Asgard, land of... aphrodisiacs?

My masterlist

How fast an innocent litte fic can turn into pure filth:

Pairing: Boss!LokixFem!Employee!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Boss/Employee dynamics, Sex-Pollen trope, effects of the sex-pollen-toxin described, obedient reader, overstimulation, praise kink, soft Loki, biting [by reader], outdoor sex, fluff, touch of angst if you squint

Wordcount:~3.300

Deviders by @harlequin-hangout

If someone had predicted today's events to you, you might have thought them crazy. But let's start at the beginning.

You are Lokis assistant, or how he likes to put it, maid. He had to get back to Asgard for his parents annual feast and you came along since, well, its your job.

Loki is a strict boss, he has you call him my lord or sir for example, while he rarely ever calls you by a professinal name. Truth be told, he only calls you by your name if you truely messed up.

He was reluctant to even hire an assistent, but since all of the famous heros of earth do, he was practically forced to hire one. Your job mostly consits of keeping him from ruining his reputation; which was alredy hard enough to restore given his past history. This consists of managing his social media accounts as well as public appearences.

What also took a lot of time was keeping the fans at bay. The emails, dm's and letters are mostly benign, but the abundance of them gathering at public events was always scary. His old adress got leaked at the very start of your employment.

You went over to talk about an upcoming event, shocked as you saw the crowd of people swarming the house. Even the garden, they jumped the fence. None the less, you fought your way to the door, pulling out the spare keys he gave you. Seeing the door open, the fans nearly trampled you had it not been for Loki pulling you inside the last second.

That day, when you were trapped inside the house for hours until the coast cleared, you truely talked to another. Discovering a shared love for litrature, nature and music. Before that day, you thougt of him as a stuck-up dickhead, after it, you though of him as a stuck-up dickhead with a damaged soul.

And you felt he no longer only tolorated you but actually began appreciating your assistance.

Arriving in asgard you noticed one thing: away from the day to day buisness and irritating city, he is far more relaxed. Still, you know that can change at any moment would you make a mistake, take a joke too far for instance.

He shows you the fairground in the city of Asgard, the beautiful castle and its gardens. The gardens are glorious. Homey conservatorys with small sitting areas are dottet around; rainbows dancing inside as the sun hits the colored glass. Loki insisted you get up so you can visit the next sight of his home, you would have fallen asleep in a hammock if he hadnt.

Said sight is the forests outside of the city. The walk there was already spectacular, seeing how the people of asgard live, but the forest was even better. Its unlike anything you could have imagined, the giant moss covered trees gave a sense of security, yet left you feeling tiny and insignificant in their presence. At one point a giant moss covered root lead the way across a river, it was very slippery but also impressive.

Calming bird songs sound in harmony with cicadas and crickets; if they were a thing on asgard, they at least sound like the familiar animals back at home.

Small creatures glide from branch to branch, unaware of your presence. They seem to be some sort of flying squirrel, never have you seen anything that adorable. After a while they pop back into their little den, out of your sight.

Not long after that, you spot another interesting creature. Fireflies. But not like the ones back home, these glow even at daytime. The small purple and turquoise beetles swirl around the air, a hand full of purples after one turquoise.

To your questions, Loki explained that the females glow turquoise, the males purple. Their dances are mesmerizing, to the extend where you forget to watch your step.

You stumble and fall down a small hill, right into some thorned bushes.

They look a little like blackberry bushes. At least they hurt just as much. He had warned you to watch where you're going, now it's obvious why.

Loki is quick to help you, gracefully walking down helping you untangle the thorny vines from your form. "I'm sorry darling. I should have warned you the ground is loose.", he looks at you with guilt, trying to unwrap your calf and shin. "No, you warned me plenty. I should have watched my step, the fireflies distracted me.", you sniffle from his attempts to free you, once he gets a tendril off, it pierces another part of your flesh.

"They got you really badly. There is something I should probably tell you though.", he rips the last one off your arm like a bandaid, so it won't get you again. "What is it?", you ask him, rubbing your side to ease the growing burn sensation. "They contain a toxin. Now it is not lethal before you panic. However, in Asgard it is often used as... aphrodisiac.", he looks away embarrassed. "Wha-what?! So- so what does that mean, what is going to happen?", you ask shyly. "You will feel its effects soon. I just hope it won't be too unpleasant for you. We should get back so I can look up if there are past occurrences where a non-Asgardian ingested the toxin.", he lays a hand to the small of your back, guiding you out of the ditch.

You mentally curse at the fact he had to give up the tesseract. It would have been a blessing to teleport back, walking becoming unbearably painful. Every step set your skin on fire, every movement of your hip heightened the frustration within you. Your panties are thoroughly soaked.

Seeing Loki walk in front of you isn't helping either. He is a gorgeous being. Unmistakably a god.

You stifle a lustful sound from fleeting you as you catch sight of his hips. Pants ever so tight around his thighs and ass. His broad shoulders strain against his shirt. It's been a challenge not to ogle him constantly.

"My lord?", you groan, forcing yourself to keep up with your boss's pace. "Yes Darling?" Your stomach tightens at the usual nickname, "May I ask what the symptoms of this aphrodisiac are? For asgardians at least?". He stops walking and turns around, taking in your form. At this point, your skin glistens with sweat, your thighs are pressed together and you are panting heavily. "You are feeling its effects?"he asks concerned. You only nod, squeezing your eyes shut and biting your cheek.

You hear the gravel under his boots as he walks to you, his hand startling you as it grips your upper arm. He hums, "I can feel you warming up even through your clothes.". For a moment, there is silence, only the soft chirping of birds from the treetops.

That is until you groan as something that feels like a cramp rips through your lower abdomen. "I know of a spot where we can sit comfortably. Since I don't think we will make it back in time." You whimper at his words but know it's true, so you nod and let him lead you off the trail.

After a short walk, you got to the destination. A spot covered by thick moss, so thick, it looks like a plush mattress. Loki conjures a blanket, draping it over the moss and gesturing for you to sit. You could say it's comfortable, if your whole body wasn't on fire leaving you to squirm trying to ease the burn. He sat down next to you, eyeing your movements with concern, "It's rather uncomfortable I see. It progressed quicker than it does usually.". "And how do you know what is the usual?", you groan. He smirks, "One gets quite adventurous in over a thousand years of living in one place.", he says simply.

"Oh, I see... So uhm, what are the symptoms exactly?", you try to change the subject back since the imagination of Loki under the effects of this drug really isn't helping your nether regions. "Of course. It starts off with burning where your skin has been pierced. That burn will soon consume your whole body, your temperature will rise and your nerve endings will feel everything with higher intensity. That's when the growing ache in your core will start, your knees weak and body tense."

You listen intently but notice you have passed every stage he is listing, making you concerned for what will happen after those. "How long does it usually take for it to get to the... aching bit.", you clear your throat, growing more and more humiliated to discuss such matters with your boss. "A couple of hours. It's the build up that is so thrilling, making it interesting.", he eyes you, focusing on the way you shift around on the soft blanket. "Sir, I have surpassed every state you just listed and it's been less than an hour.", you say nervous. His lips thin and his eyes lose their stern expression usually anchored deep inside of them. "It looks like it is progressing quicker in midgardians. Come to think of it, that makes sense, asgardians have a higher muscle density. You did get a pretty high dose of it as well..."

You try to listen intently to him, you really do, but it's getting unbearable. The fabric of your jeans feels rough on your skin, constricting almost. And your sex... you have officially soaked through your panties and jeans.

"What comes after... Am I going to get sick? I feel so warm, somethings not right.", you groan, rolling up the sleeves of your shirt. "The painful part. If not treated, it will leave your body aching and spasming for hours. Your flesh is growing hotter and hotter. Y/n, we must act on it now, it... it could very well be that you experience these symptoms with a higher intensity. As I told you, I am not certain if any other midgardian has been exposed to this plant. I am worried for you.", he tells you earnestly, shifting closer to lay a hand on your knee, a whimper confirming his suspicions. "Darling, you are in pain, aren't you?" Your eyes dart to the hand on your knee, then your own. Reluctantly, you nod, knowing you cannot lie or hide things from him. He looks at you with pity and concern, moving his hand to your shoulder. You whimper from that slight touch alone; your skin like a burning fire, his hand cooling you down, relieving the burn. You push against his hand, earning a content scoff from him.

"I'm going to help relieve your discomfort now. Is that alright?", he strokes your cheek, making you sigh. "Please", you breathe, closing your eyes from embarrassment. He pushes you back slightly, "Lay back for me darling, I am going to help you.".

You do as you're told.

"I will make no show of it, I think you want to feel better as fast as possible.", he hovers over you, one arm next to your shoulder, the other making its way to your zipper. "Just help me, please-", you sob. He hurriedly pulls down your jeans and panties, hissing at the sight, "Gods, you're dripping.".

His fingers make contact with your heated sex, head falling back with a moan, "Sir please-". "Loki darling. Call me Loki.", he coos as his thumb starts to play with your clit. You feel a finger slip into you, another one following suit not long after the first. He curls them just right where you need them, your hips grinding down on his palm for some friction on your weeping clit. He picks up his pace as your hips buck desperately from his fingers alone.

"M-more please", you plead. It's just not enough. "Are you sure?", he looks at you with doubt and concern. "I need you, please Loki-", you plead pathetically.

He draws back his hand and fumbles with his trousers, freeing his rock hard cock from its hold. He leans back down, lining himself up. You whine and try to sink down on him, so he hurries and pushes in slowly, bottoming out as he meets no resistance. Both of you moan at the feeling of your sex twitching around him.

He starts to kiss your neck as he starts gyrating his hips. Your mouth falls open and your eyes close, savoring every little touch. When he finds a sweets spot on your neck, every muscle of yours convulces. It's somehow painful and yet it feels so good.

His pace picks up in no time, your legs shaking from the feeling. "Kiss please-", you grab his arm, looking up at him. Seeing his face painted with pleasure makes you want to kiss him so badly. He leans down and kisses you passionately, sloppy and firm. His hands grip your hips and he plunges into you like a beast.

He hits a spot deep within you, the coil in your stomach tightening painfully. You feel yourself spasm around Loki and he can too, a pleasured groan an audible confirmation. A pained whine of yours makes him hold you closer, as if he were hugging you and says, "It's alright sweet, I will make you feel better.".

By now, Loki is dripping with sweat and so are you, he vanishes the remains of clothing left. He is holding your upper body to his, his forearms under you and his head in the crook of your neck, kissing and nibbling away. The pace has slowed down a little, due to both of your exhaustion and Loki almost coming.

It's become too much for you a long time ago, its blissful agony. But never enough to tip you over, no matter what he does. You thrash around, losing control of it all, you have to ground yourself. It's just too much.

But still, he is your boss, so you hold back, gripping the moss even tighter. "Do what you must to get comfortable, my sweet.", he coos into your ear. Did he notice?

You shakily lay your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer. You look at him uncertain if it's ok, your hips shuddering. "Go for it kitten.", he tells you softly, one hand cradling your head. You bury your teeth in his shoulder, unsure if it is really ok and claw at him for some form of control. He snaps into you hard, making you cry into him. It's really painful, this must be overstimulation. "Shhh, I'm sorry darling. We have to do this now. Try to relax for me.", he hugs you tighter.

His pace steadens again, pelvis brushing your clit with every thrust. You are a mess, small painted 'mmmhh' sounds escaping you. Loki keeps praising you, softly kissing your neck and jaw.

"You're doing so good little one. Almost there, just a little longer."

"I know it's a lot but it will get better soon. Just hold onto me."

Your hips try to meet his thrust, something urgent growing within your lower stomach. "C-close- need more-", you keen into his shoulder. He thrusts harder, meeting the spot inside you that makes you jolt with pleasure. You moan his name loudly. Sinfully. "Thats it. Good girl, you won't have to bear it much longer now.", he strokes your hair. Tears are streaming down your face, collecting in your hair.

All you can do is chant "Please!" as your boss pounds into you from above, praising you repeatedly. You come with a last strangled cry of his name, stars exploding behind your eyes as every muscle of yours goes limp. He holds you tight as your whole body convulses, your channel clenching and unclenching around him. He swore he would not, but he cant hold back his orgasm, nails digging into your hip bone as he buries his seed deep inside of you with a single violent thrust.

Everything's a blur as a green light wreaths around you and puts some clean and comfortable clothes on you. "Let's get you back to the palace darling.", he says calmly, satisfied. "Mhh", you humm, nuzzling against his chest. All you feel is yourself getting lifted up into his arms, your body rocking back and forth as he walks the path back to the palace. Only when he picked you up did you realize Loki put on some clothes too. He smells devine; like pines and fresh air. And sweat, something about that is just too calming. You can't fight off falling asleep.

You wake up as you feel yourself being moved around, laid down onto something. Opening your eyes, you see Loki eyeing you deep in thought. He is laying you down on a bed, his bed by the looks of it. "There you are. How are you feeling?", he strokes your hair, his gaze soft. You think about it for a moment, really coming to your senses. "Mhh, better. Just a bit of a headache and I feel warm.", you yawn. He nods, "I expected that. I will keep an eye on you until its effects have laid off completely.". You smile, eyes shutting again, "Sounds good to me.".

They snap back open when you feel his warm aura leave the side of the bed.

He went to his window sill and started to read. You hesitate for a moment, chewing your lip. "Sir, could- Would it be rude to ask for cuddles?", you almost whisper, your cheeks getting even warmer than they were already. He looks up from his book, seeing the bashful look on your face. His book snaps shut as he gets up, "It most definitely is not. And do call me Loki please. We are past the formalities I think.".

You lower your head when reality sets in.

You two had sex. Crazy sex-plant from another planet type of sex. With your boss, a god and prince of said realm. Loki Laufeyson.

You swallow the knot forming in your throat, "I guess we are.". He sits down next to you, "No need to feel ashamed. About any of it. Come here.". His arms open up, inviting you in. A bit reluctant, you scoot closer, laying your head on his clothed chest. His arm wraps around you, head tilting to kiss the top of your head, "Rest a bit more, it will help you."

"But I just woke up, don't you need me to work?", you ask, your fingers painting small patterns on his chest. "That can wait, your health is more important. Just close your eyes darling.", he strokes your hair, attempting to lull you back to sleep.

"Wait, we didnt- You uhmm-", you stammer, looking for the words. "I took care of it, I used a contraceptive spell when I cleaned you up.", he assures, thankfully understanding your senseless rambling.

You pause and think, feeling your head throb. "What if it gets worse again?", you ask anxiously. "I'm right here should anything happen.", he starts to stroke your back, your eyes falling closed but your mind still racing.

You're silent for a moment, pondering if you should say it or not.

"I'm scared s- Loki.", you mumble into his shirt. He squeezes your shoulder, "No need dear one. I will look after you, I promise." You take a deep breath, calming down a bit.

"Thank you for helping me, getting me here, clothing me... Just thank you for today.", you hug his torso, inhaling his scent once again. "It was my pleasure darling. Rest now, I'm right here if you need me."

And you could swear, you heard a smirk in that statement, yet it made you feel safe and secure as you drifted off again.

Everything taglist @slytherclaw1227 @their-love @vickie5446 @buttercupcookies-blog @peaches1958

The peeps from the society ;)

@lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @mischief2sarawr @michelleleewise @holdmytesseract @fictional-hooman @holymultiplefandomsbatman @mochie85 @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @vbecker10 @xorpsbane @alexakeyloveloki @lovelysizzlingbluebird @muddyorbs @november-rayne @sarahscribbles @maple-seed @simplyholl @gigglingtigger @loopsisloops @theaudacitytowrite @wheredafandomat @lady-rose-moon @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @dangertoozmanykids101 @animnerd @joyful-enchantress @mygfloki @lokiprompts @springdandelixn @superficialdomina @peaches1958

And of course my wifey @plushcrushdoll

[bambidoll96]

Writing out a fantasy, it might prove embarrassing or off putting to some but inneed to at least get it out:

Im just gonna say it plainly. I want to be a pornstar... but i want to do it my way. Im not here to fuck; suck? maybe occasionally but thats not the point.

I want to do long and intimate scenes: elaborate ropings with a focus on each individual wrap or knot, as well as highlighting any banter between me and my rigger; Impact scenes that could double for toy infomercials that cary into at least the first round of aftercare and maybe more. Sensation scenes blending the tickling and overstim with soft teddybear cuddling, and as much dialogue as i can reply to in such a state; bob ross esque body art paintings; recorded hypno sessions, even if im mostly asleep and not moving much im sure there is a real appeal somewhere (Heck pull bambi out and let her do her own scenes... i am honestly curious how much interest there might be in letting my wider plurality come into play?)

everything ive actually tried with another person outside of Sex sex has been heavenly (yes even the really really dumb "coffee" date) and there is a growing desire/need to be seen (or especially to be shown off) rising within me.

Sure cut the it down for pornhub or wherever so it can make the money but also do the long cuts that actually show off the art of the scene for those who actually appreciate it.

I want to work with a variety of tops and maybe with time get comfortable acting as a top myself(maybe, not sure if ill enjoy it in the long run) i want to explore as many kinks as i can find and experience them as much as my body/mind/spirit can handle. Maybe "owned" collectively by a small group, maybe with a single main partner who ensures i always make it home in one piece. Definitely in some way in which i am truely safe and secure, and done as sanely as possibe; with partners who genuinely care about my consent and wellbeing

For now i know damn well im still inexperienced enough and uneducated enough that that level of commitment wont really be possible any time soon even if there is any slim hope that it might be in the future. I also know that building the kind of social/support network to actually get anywhere near even the city that the ballpark is in is going to be a persuit that will likely span the rest of my life.

Yes right now i am no where near stable enough to even look for a real foothold and i know the entire wall is at an acute angle (especiallyconsideringi really dont want to work the camera, editing booth, or goddess forbid the distro/business side. But i have gotten a taste and i know it really is something i think i want to seriously persue once i am able; even as so many of my existing connections tell me its just a fantasy and seem to indicate that its just not possible.

Theres just something in my soul that calls out for it, even if we dont really know how "it" might happen or how "it" might pan out in the long, long run (maybe growing into a mentor as my body becomes less able to do the scenes myself) but we genuinely do want to make an earnest attempt.

[kiaracarrera]

OBX Season 3 Ramblings and Thoughts: Part One:

So can we all collectively agree that Big John was kind of the worst and there was way too much screen time for him and not enough screen time of all the Pouges together? - I did love that the name ‘Big John’ actually fit though and not just in a sense of ‘big = dad’ because the height on Charles Halford alone was enough to make it seem like John B was actually a child and not a grown man playing a child.

I love this show with all my heart and soul but what makes it truely magic to me is the friendships and the togetherness and the found family elements. The lack of that this season really affected my personal viewing pleasure in a negative way.

As much as I loved seeing all the duo pairings this season I am so so annoyed that Kiara, Cleo, JJ and in particular Pope weren’t part of that finale El Dorado cave treasure hunt. I don’t even wanna talk about it because it makes me so annoyed. (I will totally talk about it with anyone that wants too though hahaha)

The emotional journey I went on with John B and Topper as individuals boy oh boy.

John B was my fave in season 1 and my least fave in season 2 and this season I both adored him and he irritated the absolute shit out me, overall I think as the leading character it’s hard not to root for John B but I think his storyline will be greatly improved having Big John out of the picture in Season 4.

Topper whyyyy. I actually fully stanned Topper for like 90% of this season and I have no shame in admitting it. He was ALWAYS down to help Sarah and in turn the Pouges and while some people may find his apprehension to break the law and get himself in near life or death situations frustrating, I personally found it relatable? I’d argue that the Pouges were worse to Topper than Topper was to the Pouges for most of this particular season and the way he was adamant he wasn’t going to get into a fight with John B at Mike and Anna’s anniversary party was hot idc what anyone has to say. Of course we can’t have nice things though so Topper had to fuck things up and burn shit to the ground - literally. Of all Topper’s questionably poor choices this one’s gotta be the one he can’t come back from. I think Austin North is superb as Topper but truthfully I would have payed good money to axe a quarter of the scenes he and Sarah shared and given them to Jiara instead.

Jiara season baby!! LOVED LOVED LOVED the build up of their story this season, it was expected but brilliant none the less. All the almost moments, the back and forth, the ‘I’m just a loser and you’ve got your whole future ahead of you’ angst of it all 😩. Then there’s the “Like I love you dude” - it wasn’t big or grand or showy but it was Kiara and it PERFECTION even if JJ’s reaction wasn’t what I personally would have wanted to see. THE KISSSSS. No words, other than I would have like JJ to be the one to say I love you first here but anyway let it be known that I’ve rewatched that scene too many times and ‘Hanging on the Telephone’ has been on repeat all day, thanks Soundcloud. Admittedly though the aftermath of the kiss was disappointing, with over an hour left of OBX we literally were given CRUMBS of them in that finale episode which was disappointing to say the least. I also have suspicions on where Jiara might be in season 4 with that time jump at the end of the season and the uh lack of interaction or affection between them but that’s a discussion for another day.

Speaking of the time jump - did it really need to be 18 months? Like 3 months great! 6 months fine, even like 8-9 months and I would have been like yeah okay 🤷🏽‍♀️ but 18 months!? A whole year and a half!? So much can happen in that time and that’s so much we’ve missed. Most notably the starting points of Jiara and Cleope!? What do you mean we don’t get to see where their relationship went after those monumental first kisses. I get a time jump because the actors are also aging up but 18 months just felt like too much. I’m interested to see what happens in season 4 at least.

In other shipper news Cleope - loved them. So sweet and Cleo is an absolute queen. Easily one of my favourite characters this season and I really enjoyed the journey her and Pope took and in particular Cleo’s relationship with The Hayward’s as a whole. What a beautiful addition to this show.

Did somebody say toxic? Oh wait it’s just John B and Sarah. I’m sorry, I know this is such a popular ship but I just absolutely cannot with them anymore. I have been so neutral on them over the past two seasons but between Sarah’s cheating and John B’s serious anger issues, at this point I surely can’t be the only one who thinks they both (John B in particular) need time to heal on their own before they come back together (and I mean like at least three quarters of a season broken up not just three episodes). I don’t know, obviously it’s been 18 months and they own a surf shop now and they’re both free of their bad dads so maybe things will be different in season 4 but I have VERY low exceptions.

Sarah’s understandably coping a bit of flack this season but I fall more neutral on my opinion on her this season. In season one she was my least favourite and in season two it was the opposite, this season my opinion on her falls somewhere in the middle. I did love that we got to see more of her friendships with the other Pouges outside of John B though! Another reason why I think it would be beneficial for her character to not be tied to John B’s permanently going forward. Sarah and Kiara’s friendship is always a highlight for me.

Putting this all the way down here at the bottom where people might not see because I’m low key ashamed… but RAFE 🤤 I’m sorrrry he’s just so freaking fine. Well at least until he opens his mouth or you know, moves 😅. I’ve seen a bit of a Rafe/Kiara rise with the new season releasing and look, I’m not judging because their shared scenes this season showed some major chemistry but in the name of all things good and well I’m going to stay strong and say our good sis Kiara deserves way better than to ever be pulled into any storyline that involves Rafe Cameron as a love interest. A friend? Maybe, potentially, I mean for someone who swore he was going to be coming for Kiara he did approximately nothing to fulfil that - which is exactly what good enemies to friends stories are made of, but as a romantic interest I’m going to pass thanks. I’ll stick to nurturing the potential that Jiara has.

Lastly bye bye Ward Cameron. It was fun knowing you truely! What a brilliant villain.

If I didn’t totally bore you and you made it this far please let me know what your fave and least fave moments of this season were and/or who your fave and least fave characters have been!! Would love to chat to you guys about this show 🥰🥰🥰

[threepandas]

Bad End: Into The Light

It was impossible to ignore the steps behind me.

I was told, again and again, they were of no consequence. No SIGNIFICANCE. That my "shadows" were little more then passive servants. Glorified furniture that followed me room to room. But... but how could I possibly believe that? Worse, if I DID believe that? What would that MAKE me?

I was followed, as I am always followed these days, by... by DECORATION.

That's what they were BRED for. MADE to be. Aesthetically pleasing decoration. Perfectly matching, pleasantly smiling, mindless drones.

It sickened me.

When I "woke up"? Laughable as that phrasing is? Because I was not... not SLEEPING. I was... WAS... I had not BEEN-!

When I... "woke up" as it were, from that... long sleep. The one I had no choice in. That terrifies me even now. Haunts my dreams and wounds my soul. I found myself in a shining temple. A holy place, I was told. A beautiful place, it seemed.

And like so many stories? Like every tale of Utopia supposedly found? It was only after the first rush of wonder, did the cracks in the foundation begin to appear. And oh... OH, did they run DEEP.

I? Was "born" from a shining pool. Beneath sunlight and surrounded by soft breezes. Beauty and nature. But the "shadows"? They take the waters and manipulate them. Archaic machines I have never seen, someplace deep and dark.

I only see the successes of this process.

My mind screams that something terrible must happen, to those deemed "failures".

How? How in any God's name could I EVER be expected to accept this? This slavery and butchery? Worse still, be expect to TAKE PART in it? Have "shadows" of my own? As though it were not ownership of another living soul?!

In disgust, I raged.

I tried to fight. Was still too young, unfamiliar with the terrain. But my soul cried out in horror and how could I refuse? It... got me isolated. I am STILL isolated. Deep in the temple. Back in the "reflection gardens" where I may "think". It goes against our religion, after all, to harm me.

I am a PERSON. One of the Light's children. I need "gentle guidance" and "patience" so that I might "understand".

I understand perfectly.

They are simply monster's in my eyes.

It is cruel, really, that so much GOOD could be poisoned by such thoughtless evil. Because some of the teaching they foist on me? Are GOOD. Genuinely, truely, GOOD. They are teachings I am trying my best to follow. Even as something about them... niggled at the back of my brain. Like somehow they SHOULD be familiar, yet aren't quite.

Truely? I wish I could escape these walls. I KNOW there are other sects. The Shining Light was a result of a schism several centuries back. I know it had to do with the pools. But, of course, they have kept me from anything that might reinforce my "mistaken beliefs".

The eyes burning into my back trace lazily along my skin.

We never talk. I REFUSE to take part in this charade, but it does not stop them from following me. If anything, they seem amused. Something almost like fond on occasion. It is hard to tell, through their ever unchanging smiles. Perfectly bland and decorative.

There is a strange... anticipation in the air today.

I do not know what to make of it. When I ask the Light all I receive is nondescript humming. I do not know enough to know what that MEANS. Have no one to ask. So... I go through the motions.

And the anticipation builds.

And builds.

And BUILDS.

There are certain points in the, for lack of a better term (though honestly it's hardly), "little" building I've been cosigned too where I can see the main temple. The second floor terrace lifts me JUST high enough to see the eastern sprawl.

And the if I precariously balance? Up on a stool and then my toes. Leaning juuust so against one of the pillars that line the path? Then the hallway to the reflection pool garden, where I am too meditate each day, shows me the west.

As cut off as I am, except for the glorified propaganda shoved at me again and again by teachers who never linger, as though I am DISEASED? Well, all I can really do is watch. Try to pick out what is happening from afar. Try... try not to go mad from isolation.

Because the only people HERE with me are my shadows.

And I KNOW they would never talk to me. Not really. They will respond if I talk AT them but... oh Light that guides us... I am the keeper of their chains. I have NO RIGHT to play "happy little family~" as though they are even remotely close to me of their own free will.

I will not see them. I will not ask of them. In the Light, I will cast no shadow.

My mantra. Again and again. And please, oh Light that guides us, let someday it be true.

Still... my daily "lessons" have not come. And that? That has never happened. I do not WORRY for them, but as the only contact I have with the outside? Sudden change in behavior is... bad. Especially with this strange tension in the air. This anticipation of... SOMETHING. Like the Light is waiting for something to begin.

It is coming.

The east shows me nothing. So I try the west. Balanced precariously, ankles and toes straining from the uncomfortable position. The vast gardens between where I am and the main buildings? Are... empty.

They are NEVER empty.

Always. ALWAYS! Someone strolling, initiates debating, students reflecting, Master's meditating on the Light. Guests oohing and aaahing over the heavenly splendor of a garden unrivaled, by any I'd EVER seen before this place. All while followed by peacock tails of shadows. Matching and subservient. Hundreds of them.

The gardens were empty. Silent. An eery sense of... wrong, began to seep up my spine. Something that SCREAMED I had all the clues. Already KNEW what this was. But was being painful dense. Fatally blind. But I... I couldn't...

Sharp movement. A Temple Master. One who's name I could not recall. Only that he was forever poised and disdainful. He did not look so poised NOW. He raced, hair falling from it's styling, face wet with sweat and tears, robes a mess, across the main walk. Through the empty garden.

He... he never made it...

Too wherever he hoped to go.

In perfect synch, like WOLVES, shadows shot from the building behind him in pursuit. They had swords. He did not. Their long legs ate the distance between them and their prey almost effortlessly. In desperation, he called upon the Light, divine magic to defend himself.

They... they COUNTERED.

He died. Horrified and screaming, as I stood frozen. Pieces clicking together in my head. That... that was an advanced skill. But, ultimately, perfectly learnable if you were focused on nothing else. If... if you were able to FOLLOW those who sat in such lessons. Were... born of the same pools.

Of course they were children of the Light. I had always known. But somehow... my brain had not CONNECTED what that meant. Fully. What SKILLS that would afford them.

Slowly, numbly, I slid back down to merely stand upon the stool upon which I stood. I shakily stepped down. Acutely aware of the half ring of shadows smiling, oh so pleasantly, less then lunging distance away. Their eyes were intent.

Had...had they been waiting for me to see? Figure it out on my own? How long were they willing to let the charade continue? Just to drive home that their days of servitude were, at last, violently over? I did not look at them. I was afraid. My eyes staring, unseeing, off to the garden walls.

I was... was trapped in here... wasn't I?

Deserved this. For what I had allowed done.

And yet... and YET... I... I wanted to live. I was a prisoner too. Born into a cage that would see me die in it. Tears blurred my vision. It felt hard to breathe. Slowly, painfully fighting my tensed muscles, like a doll creaking from age, I turned to look at them.

Their smiles were sharper. They had teeth now.

Heads cocked, some terrible and delighted thing dancing in their eyes, their masks had cracked apart. No longer needed. I took a shaking step back. Then another. All the while they watch, eyes tracing my every action, unmoving. Expectant. They knew I would run. Clearly HOPED I would. I wish I could say I disappointed them.

That I was brave and stood my ground. Facing my end with dignity.

I didn't.

I bolted.

Behind me, a chorus of delighted laughs rip through the terrible silence like the baying of hunting hounds. The howl of wolves. Their masculine voices echoing all around me as, for the first time in this LIFE? I run with all I have. There... there is no where to GO. Not really. I have been kept ignorant of most of the temple's layout. Everything beyond it.

I have to try.

Mocking. They give me a heads start. But I hear them now. They have always been near silent when they walk. Can be COMPLETELY silent if they choose. It was a courtesy. Now? It is a taunt. So I know they are coming. Know how close I am to-...!

Desperately, I shed outer layers. The ornate, heavy robes they made me wear? Were lovely. But difficult to move it. Perhaps that was the point. Now? I can not afford it. They clatter and flomp to the ground behind me as I run. Skid around corners. Take two stairs at a time.

Banter behind me. This is taking everything I've got. Ha ha... oh Light! It's barely a work out for them, isn't it? A glorified jog at best. My exits are cut off, again and again. Forcing me to backtrack. My heart pounding, lungs screaming. Nails scrambling at the polished floors as my feet slide out from under me at the sudden shift in direction.

Bruises are building up. Exhaustion setting in. There is... there is no where in this building I can hide, that they do not KNOW.

I've lost track of at least half of them. They could be anywhere. I... I know, KNOW, I am being herded like an animal. Spooked and grabbed at, so I run the way they want me too. I just don't know WHY. I can't think. I have to run. All... all I can do is RU-!

As I pass an archway leading to a garden viewing room, I find out where the others went. Weight SLAMS into me from the side. Strong arms seizing my waist and cradling my neck, to prevent injury as we fall. I am thrown from feet by the tackle, through the archway.

Into a...nest of bedding?

I land hard, cushioning aside, and wheeze out a whine. The wall of iron muscle on top of me, pressing me down, half crushing me. My legs are on fire, my lungs the same. Everything hurts and I am terrified. There is a man's hand on the back of my neck, up high and near cradling my head, and it would take NOTHING for him to snap it. I... I can't... I...

I sob.

Frozen. Exhausted, in pain, and all struggled out. All I can do is cry. It's going it hurt. I.. I don't WANT to get hurt! P-please don't hurt m-me! I clutch at the bedding I'm pinned down too. My face all but crushed up against a familiar not familiar shoulder. I can hear the others strolling closer.

The shift of clothes as they kneel to crawl onto the strange nest they had made.

"Shhhhhh, shh shh shh. It's okay, sweetheart. It's over now. We CAUGHT you~ Our little champion. You're okay. It's okay. We're all here. You're safe now." Whispers the shadow pinning me. All but crooning it in my ear. "We've got you~, we've got you~. They can't hurt you anymore. Gonna show you the WORLD. No more cages. Can finally give you the love you DESERVE."

There are noises of agreement around me. Hands gently stroking my wrist and lower arm. Massaging my aching lower legs almost absent-mindedly. As though any part of me not covered by the man pinning me was fair game. Someplace to gently adore. I don't understand. Can not.

I squirm. Getting huffed laughs and chuckles.

"None of that, dearest. We were patient long enough. Frankly, we wanted to stage the revolt months ago. But, well, that pesky high priest. Never around when you need him to die, mmm?" Barks of laughter as the others crowded closer, got comfortable. My hand was tugged loose from the bedding. Fingers intertwined with my own.

"She's so cute." "Let us love you." "I can't wait to taste you." "Ours now, sweetheart~" "let us take care of you, okay?" "Light that guides, you're so fucking PERFECT..." "We're gonna take care of you, promise."

Muttered voices. Possessive, gentle hands. The shadow on top of me shifts down. And suddenly I could SEE. They stared like I was something to be devoured. The center of the universe. The Light felt triumphant. Held no answers. I didn't know where to look. Too many eyes. Too much touch.

Too much EVERYTHING after so long alone.

A kiss that feels overwhelming. Grins that promised things I didn't know if I can handle. Eyes that promise FOREVER whether I like it or not. Dangerous, dangerous hands that are so very gentle. I shake. I can not stop shaking. Hands from two different men, cup my cheeks, stroke my skin. My hands are held. Their palms are warm.

"Shhhh, your OURS now, little light. We broke our chains and killed our keepers, but YOU? Oh you, little prisoner, tried your best. You couldn't do it, and that's okay, but we SAW. We REMEMBERED. And the shadows?" They whisper, almost reverent. Both precious memory and quiet confession carried in their voice. Then, a terrible, possessive smile. A thing of entirely too many teeth.

"Oh little light, the shadows love you~♡"

[wellthebardsdead]

Clockwork Heart Pt3

Part 2 here

———

Ancano: *Been at the collage for a few weeks checking off task after task for his dominion duties, so far coming up short on anything of interest to report back but generally not complaining about the easy job, though he would be a lot happier sleeping in an actual room instead of the broom closet. Now quietly making his way to the arcanum to interrogate interview Urag as he had the other professors, only to be caught off guard as he sees the handsome young elf who’d ‘greeted’ him when he’d first arrived to winterhold, the famed little prince of the collage, Wyrm*

Wyrm: *floor length silver hair tied back in a messy ponytail, held up by a screw driver as he looks for the book he needs, very obviously just emerged from his room given his loose trousers, shirt and overall unkempt appearance*

Snobby student: *side eyes him as she walks by and up to the counter to check out a book* Hmph. They really do just let anybody study magic these days, who does he think he is walking around the library with no shoes on and dressed like a vagrant?

Urag: *looks up from his notes and takes the book from her* He’s my son. And you’re now barred from borrowing books from my library. Now get lost.

Snobby student: *looking like she just got kicked in the teeth* I-I… s-sorry… *walks out quickly, bursting into tears as she passes by Ancano*

Ancano: *watches them go before continuing to look at Wyrm with growing intrigue, finding him a fascinating enigma among the rest of the collage, seemingly an outcast amongst likeminded people and looking unique amongst the most unique*

Wyrm: *growing visibly frustrated as he can’t recall the name of the book he’s looking for, too many thoughts going on in his head all at once, too many ideas, memories and more bouncing around at once like an overloaded lexicon* Ughh! *grabs his head in a fit of frustration, only for his very soul to seemingly, and very visibly seperate from his physical body, like he’d somehow split his mind into two* that’s better… *looks to his soul half* it had a brown spine?

Wyrms Soul: *voice sounding like his, but different, older, more mature and ethereal* And a silver cover. I believe it was notes on dwemer animunculi.

Wyrm: I know but which volume! *sighs* I’ll keep looking over here you look in the returns.

Wyrms Soul: *nods and walks off, arms behind their back in a much more sophisticated posture compared to its young and aloof host*

Ancano: *eyes nearly popping out of his head at what he just witnessed, knowing if literally nobody even in the most magically endowed circles back in the isles, capable of doing that*

Wyrms Soul: *suddenly returns to Wyrm holding the book* I found it.

Wyrm: ughhh of course it was volume 3! I was looking for volume 2! *takes it and absorbs his soul half back into himself before opening up the book and flicking through it, finding the chapter he wants by spotting the finger prints he’d accidentally left on the pages* …oh gods I’m stupid I put it together backwards.

Ancano: *suddenly steps in front of him to get his attention, now well and truely intrigued by the younger mer* My hello again. I was wondering when I’d see your face about the collage~

Wyrm: *looks up from his book, his Pearl eye glinting as he does so and his red dunmer one showing visible distain as he scowls at him* I don’t like you thalmor. So don’t even bother attempting to talk to me. Leave me alone. *huffs and closes the book storming off to his room, only to stop and hurry back out to take the snack his father offered him as he passed by* thank you papa…

Urag: Please just remember to wash your hands before you open a book son. Please.

Wyrm: *mouth already occupied with the snack, reading his book as he walks back to his room* mhmph!

Ancano: *watching him leave, a little surprised by how forward he was with his distain for him but if anything, even more interested in him now* hm… *walks up to the counter slowly* Urag correct? I have to interview you as part of my duties but, that boy of yours-

Urag: Wyrm is my son. I adopted him. No I didn’t name him he chose it himself. And you’d be smart to keep your hands to yourself when concerning him.

Ancano: *was about to make a snide remark to his tone but now trying to wrap his head around the name Wyrm* why would anybody want to be named Worm?…

*a few days later*

Wyrm: *looking at the parts Enthir has available for him* is this all? Half of it’s unusable unless I put it through a forge but there isn’t one for miles and you know my papa won’t let me go to the mine to use theirs.

Enthir: I’m sorry Pearl but that’s all my contacts could get me this time. Something about narrowly avoiding decapitation by a centurion or something.

Wyrm: *Sighs* well I guess I can take the gears… I might be able to bend them back into shape… are you sure you haven’t got anything better?

Enthir: hm, well I do have these* *pulls out a beautiful pair of dwemer gauntlets*

Wyrm: *eyes sparkling staring at the gloves, so unique in design and far different from the usual make he’d seen in his research, and the very sight of them filling him with an almost violent urge to snatch them from the bosmer by any means* You had these and you were just hiding them from me?! They’re beautiful!

Enthir: and theyre not cheap either prince. I didn’t bother showing you because I know you won’t be able to pay me for them… unless.

Wyrm: …unless?…

Enthir: Im always open to trades, how about you give me your eye and I’ll give you these?

Wyrm: m-my eye? *covers his Pearl eye* n-no- papa made this for me, it’s enchanted so I can see I can’t trade it.

Enthir: Oh well that’s a shame. Unless you want to trade me his copy of Shalidors writings-

Wyrm: y-you want me to steal from my father?!

Enthir: not steal just borrow without telling him.

Wyrm: *looking at the gauntlets again, the pull within him driving him to almost consider doing either of his options, but his common sense winning over* no, no they’re not worth it… *sighs and hands him the entirety of his allowance and just takes the scrap pieces, walking off looking disheartened*

Ancano: *watching from the shadows the entire time, quietly steps into the room as Enthir starts putting the gloves away again* Oh Enthir was it? Those wouldn’t happen to be for sale would they?

*that evening, nearing midnight*

Wyrm: *in his bedroom, trying to bend the gears he bought back into shape, only for the joint on his scrapped together prosthetic arm to give out making it fall slack* I- Oh- You good for noth-ARGHHHH!!! *pulls off his arm throwing it across the room and dropping to the floor by his desk* wh-why can’t anything ever go right for me?…

Urag: *enters hearing his son on the verge of a meltdown* Pup?… *spots him on the floor and his arm now broken in two pieces across the room* oh Wyrm… it’s okay we can fix it. *picks it up*

Wyrm: n-no I can’t! I can’t because I don’t have the right parts! I’m sick of always having to fix it! *starts crying and pulling on his hair in frustration* I’m sick of having to always make do! I’m sick of Enthir charging me so much for junk! And I’m sick of that stupid thalmor a-asshole pestering m- *hiccups*

Urag: and here come the hiccups. *sighs setting the arm down on the desk and helping the small elf to his feet, pulling him into a warm hug* Deep breaths now son. Let’s calm down now before we continue talking, okay? *gently guides him to sit on the bed before sitting beside him, pulling the screwdriver from his sons hair and fixing the arm back together for him before putting it back onto the younger mer*

Wyrm: *sniffles and hiccups trying to calm down but now both tired and unusually frustrated compared to his normally soft and bubbly nature* I’m tired of always feeling like I’m without something… if it’s not parts for my arm it’s parts for other projects, or it’s context from this- *pulls his book out from beneath his pillow* stupid thing! *throws it to the floor* Every time I think I’ve figured it out I turn it this way and that and the notes change again!! And then I feel like I’m back to where I started… I can’t even bend a gear back into place never find the ones I seem to be missing…

Urag: *sighs feeling like he’s let his son down in some way* I don’t pretend to know what’s going on through your remarkable mind, Wyrm… *grunts getting up and shuffling to the book, picking it up with gentle care, always amazed at how resilient it seems to be, just like his son* Or how your mind works in general… *opens it up to see hundreds of scribings, some pages even moving if he looks at them long enough* But I’m not a mind reader either pup… *frowns sadly as he closes the book* I didn’t know you were this upset… *sighs* I know you’re a grown mer, and you can make your own decisions in life now… I’ve no right to keep you here if you don’t want to be here… but it hurts me knowing of all the dangers outside these walls. I know you want to get the parts you need yourself… but if you can’t even bend a gear, what hope do you have of fighting off a dwemer construct?…

Wyrm: *sniffles and looks down drying his eyes as his hand regains movement* I know papa…

Urag: *sits beside him again and hands him the book again* so until I can be sure you’re ready to go out on your own into the world… just tell me exactly what you need okay?… and I’ll do better to find it for you… *sighs looking over at the desk and all the things he’d made with just scrap* It was wrong of me to assume that anything would just do. I never understood any of your schematics or constructs, I didn’t put much thought into it beyond that… but now I see I’ve effected you beyond just inconveniencing a hobby. *gently interlocks his fingers with his mechanical ones as they click and shift* I’ve effected your quality of life too without even realising it…

Wyrm: *looks down at his fathers old hand in his mechanical one* you haven’t papa… *shakes his head sadly*

Urag: *pulls him into a hug being mindful not to jab him in the forehead with his tusks as he rests his head against his* I have son… Write me a list of what you need to make a new arm okay?… We’ll make it together.

Wyrm: … *sniffles and hugs onto him hiding his face into his robes crying again* thank you papa…

———

“You’re right to think you’re only at the beginning still… your story has yet to even start…”

Wyrm: that… voice again…

“Over here… follow the beating of the drum…”

Wyrm: *blinks open his eyes as if to look in the direction of the voice, only to see the dimly lit interior of his bedroom staring back at him, the sun not yet risen, the world seemingly still beyond the ever lasting blizzard beyond the walls of the collage* … *sighs and slides out of bed deciding some light reading might help*

*shuffle*

Wyrm: *ears pricking up hearing someone in the Arcanum, knowing his fathers routine well enough to know it’s not him* … *quietly slides on his slippers and pulls on some simple mage robes before popping his Pearl eye back in and grabbing a decorative dwemer strut for a weapon as he peers out into the arcanum… only to see the pretty gauntlets Enthir had showed him, now sitting on the counter* … *sets the strut down and slowly walks over, eyes fixated on them, a part of himself reaching for them, needing them* … *looks around curiously one more time before placing his hands on them*

Ancano: *suddenly appears right In front of him, dropping invisibility as he grabs the dunmers hand frightening the life out of him* Got you! *covers Wyrms mouth with his other hand silencing his scream* We. Are going to have a little talk.

[gryffintheparrotcat]

Discussion about durge & the overall theme of breaking the cycle of abuse or becoming the abuser in bg3 Evil Durge ending spoilers ahead

So I recently finished my evil durge run and during the entire game i thought to myself "Ofc embracing Bhaal is the bad choice here, it's a situation like Shadowheart and Shar. But honestly for my character it isn't bad at all, he enjoys being a murder machine and he'd love to serve his Father as the Chosen. This somehow doesn't feel as bad as other bad-ending choices, though I have no doubt the good choice will feel very meaningful."

And I kept that opinion pretty firmly till the end bc accepting Bhaal seemingly didn't have much consequence (Note: I previously never defied the Butler either so I hadn't experienced ANY punishments for that at all, my character wanted to kill, so did Bhaal, seemed like a win-win, despite knowing narratively speaking this would be the bad ending).

But the very last choice (technically second last if you count telling your party what you just did as a choice) in the game really brought to light the part of the dynamic I was still questioning till the end,

(everyone say hi to my evil Durge E'stir, he likes to murder and when Auntie Ethel fusses over him but he'd never admit that) Yes my character enjoyed killing blindly with no regard to whom, only caring about how many he'd kill, yes he enjoyed indulging in his urges, of course he was elated to learn he's actually Bhaals True Chosen, what better fate for a murder hobo than to be the very flesh and blood of the murder lord himself? But that very last 'choice', really showed that this wasn't a good ending, not even for him, because it isn't a choice and he'll likely never get to make a choice again, ever. As much as he'd have enjoyed bringing the world to ruin, it'll now never be out of his free will.

so much even that even in this moment of clarity (regret even?) he could not have made a choice.

the price for ultimate power was a total loss of control. And unlike with the companions, this price never seemed that drastic. Durge was never good, Durge never suffered at the hands of Bhaal, Bhaal has always been there, nurtured them. Unlike the others, this wasn't a path away from the light, this was never a choice of giving up on your goodness to embrace a dark power. Durge was already evil, this was just taking back your lost legacy. There was no moment before Bhaal, there was no humanity in the Bhaalspawn, a Bhaalspawn like no other. And yet the price paid is ultimately even more devastating than that of the other companions, yes Astarions soul is lost and his emotions get twisted, but as twisted as it is now he still has a form of free will (though it will never be the will of spawn Astarion again), same goes for Gale, yes he's no longer Gale Dekarios and won't act like his old self anymore but he's still acting out of an own will. Yes Wyll will continue to have to follow Mizoras will, but even then we know he can defy her, not without consequences but he can. (Side Note: I don't think Karlach even gets an evil ending? Like she imeadiatly dips on you if you slaughter the grove so her only bad ending is... well every ending but they're not evil endings) Halsin & Jaheira are entirely excluded, they're not even infected. And Minsc doesn't have a character arc either as far as I've seen (only bg3, ive heard he's in previous games (I shall play them one day)). The only two coming close to Durge in this are Shadowheart and Lae'zel but even then the arguement can be made that they still have a chance to look past their goddesses deception and break free. Not without high punishment of course, but the possibility is still there, Durge can have doubts & regrets all they want, they can do nothing about it.

Durge is essentially the narrative opposite of all other companions, the only one who goes from truely evil to getting a chance at redemption via the tadpole, everyone gets a chance at betterment via the tadpole (except Minthara lmao, she still gets that chance just not via tadpole, quite the opposite actually) and some were even questionable people before the tadpole (looking at you Minthara-) but even then they were all products of their environment. But can Durge truely be a product of their upbringing if they re quite literally Bhaals flesh and blood, solely created to bring ruin upon the world? And if the answer is 'No, Durge only exists to bring pain, by nature they're evil'... what's that prayer for forgiveness about?

[kittychosis]

having severe trauma (C-PTSD) coupled with genetic Bipolar that BOTH have symptoms of psychosis really shows you that other peoples love can never really be "unconditional". because. they werent expecting the condition to involve violent breaks from reality and self. because there are truely such few people who can relate, the ones who cant get scared and detatch from you because they dont understand. so when you need support the most, that is when youre at your lonlinest. i will always be made out to feel like a incoherent monster rather than a person who is struggling with severe changes to their brain chemistry as a product of psychological torture coupled with the impossibility of leaving my situation. i KNOW it seems scary when i break from reality and myself but imagine what is going on inside of me, that i am suppressing because the bare mimumum of my mental disorders has already scared the people i love away. this is why i dont trust partners or friends. im always waiting for them to reach their breaking point with me while im in the middle of a psychotic episode, because that is the pattern. im sick of feeling othered because people are ignorant. im sick of being alone with this burden because no one wants to experience me while im going through it. it is so god awfully lonely and soul crushing to be left with no one in your darkest moments. im sick of this.

[thegardenoflights]

Hey! I hope you’re doing well. Just asking, is it possible to get a reading? If yes, I’m in a sticky situation right now. I’ve been asking the universe for signs and messages from my soulmate but, another reader told me that I shouldn’t focus on them because I have more options to choose. I took their advice and now I have like three choices💀. I’m scared to choose because I don’t want to get hurt. My question is, how will I know if D, J or G (that’s their first names) are the right one for me.

If you have the time to do a reading, thank you so much 🤍🤍

-Angel

Hi there angel i’m very sorry that this is such a late reply! I understand your fears and I see you do not want to get hurt. I’m drawn to give you a message. I love it when someone asks the higher realms about love, it’s so whole and fulfilling to help people out in their love life. So here is the advice I have from spirit.

Firstly, we are here for experience, good and bad. we are here to experience all that life has to offer. You are used to a pattern of way that suggests that options have not come to you like this before, but because this has presented itself to you, it is telling you that your soul is reaching out for you to go further and try something new.

There is this fear keeping you locked in place for many aspects of your life, one of them being your love life. Fear is an illusion that can become a self fulfilling prophecy, fear happens when you’ve needed a dependency on feeling secure throughout your life, and since then, these fears have shaped your life and how you act, react and the situations that present themselves to you.

The reason why you have so many options here now is because your soul is trying to show you how much there is here! it’s trying to show you your own fears and how it does not amount to the absolute abundance of gifts that the universe has to offer you, and that ignoring this fear will let more things like this flow to you that your soul truely desires.

I hope this message resonates with you.

In terms of how you will know which is right for you, i have pulled some cards. these are The Queen of Cups, The Page of Swords and The Moon.

Pay attention to your emotions and your thoughts. Pay attention to which person makes you feel free and flowing of your true self and true nature, pay attention to who keeps you interested, who sparks that feeling of making you feel comfortable as your whole self, and pay attention to who you find yourself talking about the most. Your intuition is begging to be heard at this time, and through your emotions and whoever give you this feeling of freedom and self expression will be the right person for you.