#but ive also grown stronger in others

[girl-bateman]

How does one get assigned as sam coded / dean coded ? Do I need a doctors note ? A psych evaluation perhaps ?

[greppelheks]

The best thing about no longer being insecure, vulnerable, a chronic people pleaser, with zero boundaries, but being confident, assertive, with strong boundaries and lot of self worth (besides how proud I am of myself) is that my ex would flinch if she saw me like this

[chubbymuffinclub]

subversivesocialite

being connected to my body in the present has been so important. i really internalized the way other people treated me growing up, so The Fat Kid That No One LikesTM became a core element of my identity. i used to think that if i lost weight, all of my self hatred would be healed. but when i did lose weight, i still felt ashamed and insecure and unworthy. because it’s not the body that causes those feelings. im bigger now, but ive also grown my self esteem and built a stronger connection to myself, and im so much happier than i ever was. i never want to live a life in limbo wishing for a hypothetical future body or forever pining after a body from the past. whether it’s weight or wrinkles or hair or whatever, time moves forward and our bodies follow suit. i wish for myself and everyone the longest and healthiest life possible, but when i do eventually take my last breath, i’m not concerned w what i look like doing it.

[brewstersbru]

More halstarion cuz ive been playing my lil origin run; also happy halloween folks !

Pain. Sharp, dragging, unbearable agony against his back. Astarion huffs a small noise of pitiful discontent before clenching his mouth shut. Quiet. Can’t let him hear you. His fangs tear a little into his gums, but there isn’t enough blood in him for any to really trickle out of the wounds. 

A voice- disembodied, but cold and lilting as ever- sounds from behind. “My dear, how prettily you bleed. Even lovelier now, with the poetry I am bestowing upon you. Truly, a gift. And what do we say to gifts, Astarion?” 

Astarion moans miserably into the ground- or is it a steel surgical table? He can’t remember, he can’t focus. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. There’s a feeling of hands in his hair, grasping, tearing- the flash of a derisive, fanged grin- “What do we say, Astarion?”

His name sounds like rot coming from his lips, similar to the way one would utter the word “disgusting” or “vile”. Astarion hiccups with the force of his suffering- it’s simply too much, never before has Cazador been so persistent, never before has he carved so deep, for so long. Astarion’s weak, starving body cannot maintain itself against his tides of cruelty.

There is quiet as Cazador waits for his answer, he knows Astarion will do his very best to give it. Years and years of this torment had to have culminated into something- into an exceedingly loyal dog, he’d hoped. It’s why he tries not to command anything; not only because it takes the fun out of things, but also because it encourages a kind of devotion to the task that a simple order could never elicit. Pain can be such a useful tool, and he’s spent years honing his skill with it. 

Astarion gasps, chokes on a putrid mix of saliva and droplets of rat blood as they clog in his throat. “T-Thank you.” He coughs. Cazador hums and pushes his head back down. He runs a sharp nail down the middle of the warm, wet mess on Astarion’s back. It stings like a million tiny needles.

“Thank you, what?”

He digs the nail into one of the runes he’d just finished carving, ever so slightly, and Astarion writhes in agony. His breath comes choppy and ragged, and tears track endlessly down his nose. A moment, two, as Astarion brings a heaving breath in and steels himself against the revulsion he is about to feel.

“Thank you, Master.” The hum this elicits is decidedly pleased and Astarion hates himself all the more for earning it. If only he was stronger, if only he were able to hold out just a bit longer. If only he’d been able to make himself wait; Cazador would have grown tired, would have ordered him, eventually. 

Now, he is little more than a lapdog, bereft of even his pride, and the pain will only continue. How he despises the man he’s become, the man Cazador has moulded him into. 

The agony in his back resumes, even sharper and more unbearable than before. Astarion muffles a scream behind clenched teeth and wrenches his eyes open to reveal a circling of trees. A cool gust of air swipes across his sweat-soaked skin and he shivers, slightly. 

Astarion takes a moment to orient himself. He’d been trancing, curled into himself and facing away from the fire- Gods know why, he could use all the heat he can get with the way his undead body refuses to hold onto it on its own; some lingering self-flagellation, perhaps. 

He’s no longer bound to Cazador- for the time being at least- he’s fine. The ‘dream’ or whatever that had been was only a memory. Nothing more. He’s fine. 

Sitting up, he swats at the tear tracks on his cheeks and comes face-to-face with a wide-eyed Halsin, who had been whittling, it seems, judging by the knife in one hand and the partially carved wooden-something in the other. Astarion ducks and covers his face with a slender hand.  

“What in the hells are you doing, you oaf!?”

“… Whittling?” Halsin’s voice cracks a bit as he stumbles over the word. Astarion tries not to notice how endearing that is. He huffs.

“I gathered. Could you just- turn around? Please?” 

Halsin tilts his head to the side, just slightly, and stares at him with furrowed brows, mouth set in a firm line. He speaks carefully, but directly, unable to tiptoe around a subject when they’re both aware of the gravity of it.

“Are you alright, my friend? I don’t mean to pry, it’s just I noticed-“

“Not now.” Astarion’s voice comes out rough, grating, and he cannot bring himself to look Halsin in the eye as he speaks. 

“… Alright” There’s a shuffling as- assumedly- Halsin picks himself up and heads back to his tent. Astarion only allows himself a breath of relief when the other man’s footsteps retreat outside of his range of hearing. 

On one hand, Astarion is astoundingly, exceedingly grateful to have his wishes honored. On the other, it is so, very quiet, and he can still feel the ghosts of fingers petting, clawing and grasping at his skin. He feels dirty, a vile little thing ought to be left in the dirt. 

His back aches- phantom pains, he knows- and even years after their conception his scars throb. It’s not the first time this has happened, but it is the first time he’s been able to focus on it, the first time no other, greater pain can distract him from the dull shock of remembrance. Maybe he’d never healed correctly, maybe it’s his mind playing its usual tricks. 

Suddenly unable to stand the scratch of cloth against the raised skin on his back, Astarion wrestles his shirt off of himself. Sharp nails dragging uncaringly against the skin as if trying to sate an itch. He wants the ‘poetry’ off of himself, he wants to be clean.

His scratching becomes more fervent, less careful as his thoughts spiral. A sob works its way up, only to die in his throat, he chokes a little on it. Off. Off. Off. He needs it off. He wishes he could claw the taint away. His skin crawls under his fingernails, even as they scratch past skin. Blood flows, sluggish, down the bony curve of his spine. It is not an unfamiliar feeling. 

A sharp gasp sounds, quiet, but cutting in the previous silence that had pervaded the space around the campfire. Astarion does not dare look up from the ground. Great. Another interruption to him losing his fucking mind. 

Thankfully- which, who could guess he’d ever think the word in relation to the druid- it’s just Halsin again. Arms now laden with jars and cloth, rather than the sharp woodworking tools he’d left the fire with. The jars are labeled, but his scrawl is too small for Astarion to parse the words. 

“Astarion, my friend, please cease this needless self-mutilation!” He rushes to Astarion’s side, carefully placing the jars on the side of his bedroll and gently, loosely grasping at Astarion’s wrists- assumedly to encourage the vampire to pry his claws from his skin. He doesn’t push, simply holds him there.

The warmth is welcome, grounding in the swirl of pain and cold and despair that had previously been clouding Astarion’s mind. He lets out an unnecessary, but comforting breath and allows his hands to be pried away. 

“Good. That’s good, my friend, thank you.” 

Astarion grouses a discontented sound, to which Halsin huffs a small chuckle. 

“Alright- you’re alright. You were looking rather pale- moreso than usual at least- and I had hoped some of my oils or salves could soothe any injuries you’d overlooked, or old aches.” He pauses for a moment and rifles through the pile of goods he’d brought over, “As elves, our ‘nightmares’ are more memories, than anything. I’m more than familiar with a long-forgotten wound making itself known after a particularly jarring remembrance. I am sorry yours were so visceral.”

He’s babbling, Astarion notices, low voice rather quick compared to its usual steady thrum, but he can appreciate the effort in attempting to keep him grounded. His body doesn’t want to move, though, and he simply slumps into himself, gaze steadily forward, hollow, almost in its vacancy. 

“Here let me-“ A warmth hovers over the mess of Astarion’s back. Well, this is rather familiar. But it pauses,hesitates. Still, Astarion can feel himself tensing. A short, ragged sound punches out of him, unwitting. Halsin hums. 

“Apologies, my friend, it seems my manners have escaped me in my nerves. May I touch you? I wish only to soothe the hurt, I have a balm that should do the trick well and once I’ve applied it, my hands will not touch your skin again should you wish it.”

Astarion takes a moment, another unnecessary breath, then nods. It’s curt, almost imperceptible really, but Halsin had been paying very close attention to his body’s reactions. He thanks him- what for, Astarion cannot even begin to fathom. 

It’s quiet as Halsin’s deft fingers tenderly pass a wet towelette down his spine to clean the blood from it. It soothes, cool and stinging against new cuts and Astarion can only hope that at least he’d left new scars. Something to disrupt the carving of pure malice that had lain there, undisturbed, for so long. 

“Thank you.” It takes a while, and his voice is fairly destroyed by what he can only assume had been long minutes of screaming and sobbing in his sleep, coupled with the panic attack after waking. Halsin’s fingers continue their deft work. 

“Please. No need. If I may I- I hate to see you struggle so. Is there anything that caused it? Anything we can avoid?” His sincerity is sweet, but useless. Astarion shakes his head.

“Comes and goes, really. Used to be able to ignore it with other things. Can’t focus on memories when the present is fucked too, right?” Astarion chuckles, but Halsin does not join in. 

It’s quiet for a bit, Halsin’s hands feel almost hesitant against his skin, “I am not a man easily drawn to violence but- well- your old master deserves nothing but the slowest, most painful death possible. I know it means little but I am sorry. You did not deserve his torment. No one could deserve that.”

“I was no angel in life, druid. For a long time, it seemed like a penance.” The words are almost hissed, but the sincerity in them is unmistakable.

“Even penance ends, eventually, Astarion. Forgiveness usually follows. Two hundred years is more than enough time. Especially when you had not even truly lived before being thrust into undeath- I mean thirty-nine? You still bear your child name.” Halsin sounds almost pained, although his hands remain steady, now pressing fingerfuls of balm to each cut, and even the undamaged rune-scars too. Something in Astarion howls, surges forward into an incessant rage at the tenderness.  

“And perhaps I was a truly devilish child, druid! Perhaps I deserved it!” Halsin sighs. 

“No one deserves that, Astarion. You have to know that.”

“If I allow myself to believe that, then I have to accept victimhood. I have to accept that loss of control. I have to accept that it’s not that I deserved it, it’s that no one cared enough to try to save me. Tell me, druid, which would you rather believe.” With a final, gentle pass of his thumb Halsin retreats. Shamefully, Astarion misses the warmth of his touch. The druid rounds his bedroll, settling criss-crossed in front of him and busying himself with organizing his bottles into a neat pile.

“Well, first, I’d like it if you used my name and not my title. It feels rather impersonal talking to you when you won’t even call me ‘Halsin’. Second, I truly don’t know, but I have always favored the truth over anything else.”

Astarion hisses, “I will call you what I like, not what you tell me to call you.” Halsin simply nods, and something inside him deflates. Backs down from its haunches. 

“Oh, alright, you big baby. Halsin. Maybe the truth is that I was- however implausibly- the kind of person to deserve my penance.”

Halsin seems to light up at the sound of his name from Astarion’s lips. Astarion tries to find it dorky and uncool and not hopelessly endearing. Then, “I find that incredibly hard to believe. Had you even chosen an adult name? Had anything in mind?”

Astarion falls quiet at this. “I had an idea, a few, maybe. I remember being excited about them, I thought I was so clever with the word choice… But I cannot remember them. Cazador only called me by this name, when he deigned to adress me, and I did not exactly have the time or energy to care about choosing another.”

Something within Halsin cracks at the admission. To have that rite stolen from him was abhorrent. Heartbreaking. 

“Truly you remember nothing?”

Astarion shrugs, “Hard to find that kind of thing important when there are other, more pressing matters. It’s not like the names would fit me anymore, either, two hundred years have taken their toll, after all.” He smiles, a crooked, self-depreciating thing and gestures to himself, the scars on his back. “Thank you, by the way. I wouldn’t have treated them on my own.” The thanks doesn’t even need to be forced from his lips. Halsin smiles at the ease with which it is offered. 

“No need. And I know.”

It’s quiet for a while longer. The two of them take the time to simply look at each other. Astarion wonders, for perhaps the millionth time, what Halsin is seeing as he gazes at him with such open fondness and admiration. Surely it cannot be him. Godssakes he hasn’t even seen himself in two hundred years, who knows what kind of effect it’s had on his wrinkles. He tries not to dwell. 

“I’m going to read.” Astarion says, when he can no longer stand the thought of just how many lines have been carved in his face, without the help of Cazador’s many painful instruments. Halsin simply nods, but continues searching his face. Astarion is unsure what he’s looking for, but is fairly certain, whatever it is, has long since left him. Nowadays he’s mostly bared teeth and vengeance more than anything.  

“Please, go right ahead. If you would not protest, I would very much like to join you. I’ll whittle, stay quiet so you can focus. Would that be alright?” He tilts his head to the side, and, with the way he’s fiddling with a jar, seems so incredibly bear-like in the moment that Astarion has to clamp down on a giggle.

“… Alright. But you had better keep that promise to stay quiet.” Halsin grins, a warm, blinding thing. 

“As a mouse. And we druids are rather good at mimicking animals, you know.”

A laugh punches itself from Astarion’s throat as he heads back to his tent and settles on some pillows, his most recent thick tome open in his lap. 

It’s not long before Halsin is quietly announcing his presence, shuffling around to settle a few feet away, legs tucked up under him as he situates himself against the nearest surface- a stolen chest from one of the many towers they’d rummaged through. 

It’s easy to forget he’s there- or, no, it’s easy to simply exist in a space with him. Astarion doesn’t feel the need to perform or prove anything to him- after all, he’s basically seen him at his worst- and the silence is warm. Interrupted, every so often, by the methodical scrape of metal against wood, or the crisp flipping of a page. 

Before he can stop himself, Astarion’s fallen into another trance. This time blissfully devoid of any visions or memories. 

He wakes to an empty tent, but his book is neatly bookmarked and stowed beside his bedroll. He, himself had been carefully tucked under a pelt of some sort- a piece he knew was not from his own tent- and next to the book lay a small, intricately carved wooden star. On the back, a careful engraving:

little star, how you shine

It feels like a declaration. 

[peachywontyell]

ive had this bouncing around in my head for a while, so here we are.

i am a sucker for pretty boys with kind brown eyes and jaime fits that description perfectly...so i decided to give him a lot of pining (that is definitely reciprocated), he has to be a big brave boy and confess 🫶🏾 also, this is placed before the events in the movie !

inspired by

hanging out with jaime has always been very warm, cozy, comfortable. ever since you were children when you'd spend weekends riding your bikes around the neighborhood, only to crash at one of your houses after having way too much food. it happened so frequently that it got to the point where it just was the new normal for both of your families (impromptu get togethers were very common).

the friendship you guys had only grown stronger with each year that passed and well- there were definitely feelings there that weren't strictly platonic now. you were trying your hardest to push them away though, and jaime was having the same issues...however neither of you dared to even threathen the sanctity of the bond shared by confessing. that is until one summer came along, you guys had gone to different universities, and even though you called and texted daily, summer was when you guys could actually hang out like the old days. and here you were, having gone to pick up jaime from the airport with the rest of the reyes. as he walked through the gate you let his family say their hellos first- it's safe to say he almost drowned in hugs and kisses, and when you finally got to say hello you didn't hold back with the bear hug either.

you missed him dearly, and the weird feeling of anxiety, excitement and happiness settled in your stomach as he squeezed you back and actually just fully picking you up. it made the feeling in your stomach even stronger.

"JAIME DIOS MÍO BÁJAME"

"Que no, don't wanna"

"okay so if that's how this is gonna go, cárgame bien, señor"

suddenly you guys were in your own world, talking and laughing and everyone could clearly see what was happening here. milagro was gonna have a field day with the teasing as soon as she had a chance. he ended up putting you down- but only after he carried you all the way to the car. it was embarrassing yes, but now as embarrassing as the older couple that chuckled as you walked past and talked to themselves in hushed voices about 'how sweet young love is' and how they wished they could go back in time and experience it all over again.

that got you both blushing...and made the drive back home for lunch a bit...strange. nothing really changed, you still sat together and chatted, but jaime couldn't stop thinking about what they had said. did you guys actually look like a couple? should he had said something to them? the fact that he didn't mind if they thought so made him feel warm and fuzzy.

two weeks pass, and while you've somehow managed to push away those fuzzy feelings, things have definitely flipped for jaime- and milagro did not help one bit. she woke up much earlier than he did, you did too, and it usually meant that as soon as he walked out into the kitchen he'd see you just having breakfast.

"buenas morning" you say, trying not to laugh cause his hair looked bonkers, but even if you found it hilarious, it was still endearing, and the fuzzy feelings you had to fight every single day before meeting him were back and they were looking for vengeance. and when he almost put his full body weight on top of you for a hug not caring that you were in the middle of eating? well, you felt like you were going to die. "mornin...." he didn't move off. "jaime." "Hmmm?" "get off of me and go shower, tenemos que encontrarnos con el grupo in like an hour". with one last, extremely dramatic sigh, he moves off and does as told. it's not like he didn't want to spend the day with you and some of your other friends, they were his friends too, but he would much rather stay in and chill.

not even two hours later and you guys are at the little picnic area everyone agreed to meet up at, playing silly games, chatting and just catching up! and jaime just wasn't feeling it, he couldn't really pinpoint the reason why until he sees how talkative and close you are with one of the guys there. okay. that's fine. it's just a hangout, nothing is happening, you definitely aren't flirting with him. thank god someone called the guy over cause he didn't know how much he could take.

"so how'd the flirting go?" he thought he sounded casual, calm, normal. he did not sound casual, calm or normal. he sounded upset and looked like a sad dog. "what flirting- what the hell happened to you? why do you look so sad? ¿qué pasó?" "hm? nothing." he shook his head, making you squint. okay, if he didn't want to tell you, then you'd just come up with absurd reasons as to why he would be upset. "¿tas celoso?" funny how you got it right first try. you don't know that, though. "what? no- ¿qué?" he prays to god the blush creeping up his neck isn't noticeable, prays it doesn't betray him. "Ayyyyy si es eso you don't have to be, tu sabes que you're irreplaceable" you laugh and god is definitely on his side cause you're called over a few second later by someone of the order people and he can feel his heart beating so fast he fears its gonna burst through his chest.

the hangout went by smoothly, he genuinely couldn't be happier, even if at first he didn't want to be there. he has to admit, he did miss his friends, so he's glad he could spend some time with them. now you guys are laying on his bed, chismeando and just debriefing when the topic of him being "jelous" came up again. maybe he could just do it. he knew it was risky, but....he was willing to take the chance. "....you know what? maybe i was. maybe i was very jelous, maybe i still kind-of am." he felt you sitting up and all he could do was pull a pillow over his face and keep this shit rolling "you've always made me feel so comfortable and...warm, and ive always loved you, but at some point i think it turned into love...? does that make sense- no- it's fine- okay- look i just- de verdad que me gustas mucho y pues no sé- i don't wanna fuck this up aunque creo que ya lo jodí-" he huffs and sits up to face you, looking embarrassed and flustered "you're so special to me and i really don't want to mess up the friendship we have, okay? but i'd just...i'd really like to be yours."

you aren't sure if you should just kiss him or shake him by the shoulders. so you settle for taking his hand in yours, feeling your face grow warmer- if that's even possible after that confession. "jaime, look at me." that boy is holding onto the pillow for dear life, using it to still obscure his face while he shakes his head. he's trembling. you use your other hand to grab his face and look at you "please, just kiss me" "really?" "si-" and he does, like he's been starving. he almost doesn't let you pull back even though you both need to breathe. "jaime mi amor, you will always be my favorite pretty boy and im so happy i can finally tell you."

[doumadono]

Emergency request!

I was wondering if you could write a qpr fic with Bakugou. It's rare for me to see any qpr related fics so Ive been going around asking for them. I find huge comfort in unlabled love.

A/N: I appreciate your request, and I understand the importance of portraying a QPR accurately. However, I must admit that I'm not entirely familiar with QPRs, and this is my first attempt at writing about it. I'm willing to give it a try, but I can't guarantee that it will meet your expectations

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

One cool evening, as the sun dipped below the city skyline, you and Bakugou decided to escape from the chaos of the city for a quiet night in the outskirts, at a cozy cabin nestled in a dense forest. This retreat was your secret sanctuary, away from the prying eyes and the constant struggles of the hero world.

The two of you had been friends for years, and your connection had grown stronger and deeper with each passing day. You'd both learned to rely on each other in ways that words couldn't define.

The cabin was warm and inviting, the fire crackling in the fireplace casting dancing shadows on the walls. You sat on a plush couch, wrapped in a soft, knitted blanket. Bakugo was in the kitchen, preparing a homemade meal for both of you.

He emerged from the kitchen with two steaming bowls of hearty stew, a crooked grin on his face. "Eat up, doll," he said, setting the bowls on the coffee table. "It's supposed to be comforting."

You thanked him, and as you savored the delicious, soul-warming meal, you couldn't help but feel the warmth of your relationship with Bakugo enveloping you. He sat down beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours. "Ya know," he began, his voice softer than usual, "I've always felt something different with you. It's not the usual fucking crap, that's for sure. But whatever it is, it's just important. It's us."

You smiled at his words. "I feel the same way, Katsuki. We don't need labels to define what we have. It's genuine and deep, and that's all that matters."

Bakugo nodded, his crimson eyes meeting yours, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. "Exactly," he stated, his voice filled with genuine love. "We've got something special, and I'm not letting any-fucking-one mess with it."

The evening continued with the two of you talking, and simply enjoying each other's company. It wasn't just about the words you exchanged - it was the depth of those conversations. The two of you shared stories, dreams, and fears in a way that went beyond the ordinary. You were each other's confidants, and you felt safe sharing your innermost thoughts, knowing they would be met with understanding and empathy.

"You know, I never thought I'd find someone who understands me like you do. It's like we're two sides of the same coin." He reached over to take your hand, his grip reassuring as he brought your palm to his lips, placing a tiny kiss to its top.

"What we share is so magical. Special and one-of-a-kind," you gently touched his cheek, caressing it with your thumb.

"I've got your back, always."

"And I've got yours, Katsuki."

Bakugo was always fiercely protective of you, but in this moment, he was also incredibly gentle. He held you close, his arms wrapped securely around you, offering you the comfort and warmth you had longed for. From time to time he was planting a soft kiss to your cheek or temple, sometimes he rubbed his nose against yours.

Some time later, Bakugo leaned in, his lips barely brushing yours. "You mean so much to me," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. With those words, he closed the gap, and your lips met in a gentle, slow kiss. It was a kiss filled with affection, a silent declaration of the love that flowed between you. Bakugo's lips were rough against yours, yet his touch was tender.

The kiss deepened, but not in a passionate or hurried way. It was a slow exploration of each other's emotions, a gentle dance of affection that conveyed the depth of your unique connection. His hand cradled your cheek, his thumb caressing it softly while his tongue danced in the unison with yours.

Pulling away slightly, Bakugo rested his forehead against yours. "I'm glad we found each other," he murmured, his eyes filled with warmth.

As the evening turned into night, and the cabin grew quiet, you both settled into a comfortable silence, content in the presence of each other. The fire in the fireplace had dwindled to embers, casting a soft glow on your faces.

With a heartfelt sigh, Bakugo whispered, "This, right here, is all I need. You."

You turned to him, your eyes meeting his. "You're all I need too, Katsuki."

In that moment, you both knew that words couldn't fully capture the depth of your unlabelled love. Labels didn't matter when you had each other, a connection that was unique and boundless. It was a love filled with comfort, understanding, friendship, and an unspoken promise to always be there for each other, no matter what challenges the hero world or life itself threw your way.

As you closed your eyes, wrapped in Bakugo's embrace, you knew that this relationship was a rare and beautiful treasure that you wouldn't trade for anything in the world.

[renard-dartigue]

My Sleep Token Creature Headcanons

These are ideas that came to me for the passed few weeks and wrote down:

The vessels aren't actually wearing black paint. That's Sleep's influence manifesting on their bodies.

They wear masks not to frighten their followers during rituals because Sleep has mutated them almost beyond recognition. But Vessel wears his mask to protect the audience.

Vessel

Vessel has 6 pairs of eyes and his perception of reality is heightened. When off stage he only opens the middle row but can open the other sets whenever he wants, though he often gets dizzy doing it. When channeling Sleep's power he opens all three sets and they shine brightly. When using Sleep's power, Vessel can vaguely see the fabric of the universe, infinite strings of information flowing into his mind in bursts, fueling his creativity. However, or thankfully, Sleep heavily censures 99.9% of that information so that Vessel's brain doesn't shatter. Wearing his mask on stage is important because a gateway to Sleep manifest on his face. Staring directly into the gateway will cause people's eye's to explode and liquefy their brains.

II

II can hear and feel the rhythm of the universe. He can raise or lower the "volume" whenever and can allow others to hear it as well. During rituals, he taps into this rhythm, making them more effective. With his drumming and Vessel's incantations, they set the pace of the ritual, providing a safe connection between Sleep and our reality. If Vessel can see the strings of the universe, II can touch them, holding them out for Vessel to pluck. Outside of rituals, he will tap his foot or his fingers in sync with the universe, the actions are soothing to him. His heart beats to this rhythm.

III

III is a bit of a conundrum, even to himself. He is a shape-shifter but not in the traditional sense. His body shapes not into other people but impossible forms. He is still a tall lanky man, same as before he discovered Sleep. However, his body can stretch and contort in impossible ways. He can also change colors but red is the only one that manifests, blobs and patches shifting across his body. One might say his form is ever changing, like the universe itself.

IV

IV being the newest addition to that band, his abilities manifested recently. Basicly, he has a taste for blood. But not in the traditional blood sucking way from ancient myths. Drinking blood seems to grant him knowledge almost similar to Vessel's but on a lesser scale. Blood brings Sleep closer to our world. Human and animal blood work, but human blood is more potent. Its effects are even stronger when someone willingly offers their blood to him, willing giving up a peice of one's lifeforce to Sleep.

Additions

All four of them can travel to a portion of the astral plain while dreaming, but only Vessel can go deeper without losing his mind.

They have many smaller ritual to communicate with Sleep but its takes a few nights before Sleep responds, the reply cryptic but satisfactory once they all figured it out.

The Vesselettes are the most mysterious, even to the vessels. Its not clear when they joined the band but it's likely the choir have grown so close to Sleep that they have transcended their humanity into beings beyond our understanding. They help Vessel with incantations so he doesn't get too overwhelmed channeling Sleep's power.

And that's about all I came up with heh.

[paganimagevault]

The Magyar invasion of Saint Gall from the Codex Sangallensis 602, manuscript dated 15th C. CE

"According to tradition, Saint Gall, a learned, probably Irish monk and faithful disciple to Saint Columbanus, founded a hermitage on the site that would come to encompass the abbey St. Gall around 610.

The abbey of St. Gall flourished during the Carolingian Era (750-887), emerging as a regional center of learning and trade. Housing one of the first monastery schools north of the Alps, the abbey had grown into a massive monastic center, replete with large guest houses, a working hospital, farms and stables, and a renowned library. The abbey quickly became a magnet for Anglo-Saxon and Irish scholars and monks who copied and illuminated manuscripts. Wealthy nobles, in turn, enriched the abbey through patronization and donations of land. By the turn of the ninth century, the abbey was among the most prestigious and wealthiest in Europe.

Three chroniclers substantiate, in different versions written between 970 and 1074, of a Magyar attack on St. Gall and its environs. The Alemannian Annals, written in the ninth and tenth centuries, mention the Magyars nine times, while the St. Gallen Annals of the tenth century do so fifteen times. The most interesting information about the Magyar sack comes from the chronicle of the monk Ekkerhart IV who lived more than a century after the invasion. According to him, as the Magyars swept through Swabia and entered the vicinity of Lake Constance, Abbot Engilbert took protective measures to ensure the survival of the monastery. He ordered the abbey’s old monks and young students to move to Wasserburg, which lies along Lake Constance and near Lindau, to await the siege. The younger, stronger monks were to seek refuge in the woods and hills near the village of Bernhardzell, to the northwest of St. Gall.

On May 1, 926, the Magyars stormed St. Gall. The attackers advanced to the church of St. Mangen and set it on fire. They also tried to set fire to Wiborada’s hermitage, as they could not locate its entrance. Meanwhile, other Magyar warriors ransacked the monastery, taking what booty they could find.

Despite observing their lust for loot, the chronicles praise the Magyars in their ability to assume battle formation in a matter of only a few seconds, in their use of a sophisticated network of couriers to communicate with troops from afar, and in their mastery of various weapons. Noted further were the Magyars’ love of wine, music, dance, and fresh, tasty, meats.

After a few days of rest, the Magyars moved on to target other Swabian cities, leaving the imbecilic Heribald behind. When the monks and friars returned to St. Gall to assess the damage, they questioned Heribald about what he had seen. He reportedly said, “They were wonderful! I have never seen such cheerful people in our monastery. They distributed plenty of food and drink.”"

-James Blake Wiener, When the Magyars invaded St. Gall. From the Swiss National Museum blog.

[dianaladrislovebot]

hey yall i was talking to a friend about certain ship dynamics in the series and after the video i posted a few days ago and some of the responses ive got (not particularly bad responses, just interesting thought provoking ones), i wanted to talk about it here too.

there’s a reason there’s a lot of ships i like and don’t like, and i’ve had it pointed out to me that it’s actually bc there’s a power imbalance. see, for example, drake and caine work as a relationship bc they’re both as fucked up and awful as each other and it balances out, but putting drake w people like diana or astrid or sam, people he’s personally victimised and tormented who’ve struggled to fight back, it adds a power imbalance that leaves the relationship being nothing but toxic and abusive unless you take creative fanon liberty and physically change the characters entirely.

it’s also why i don’t particularly like quinn and lana. at the point in the series when they’re together, lana seems to be at her lowest mentally and i wouldn’t say it’s unlikely that she took that out on him. i mean, she pulled a gun on the guy. lana’s the kind of person who’s fierce and opinionated. she’s someone who won’t take people’s shit. quinn’s the kind of guy who does. he’s someone who won’t stand up for himself and call her out on her behaviour, preferring to stay quiet in order to keep the peace. this is where it becomes toxic. it’s exactly why lana and sanjit DO work, bc sanjit refuses to allow her to pull something like that on him, while also forcing her to confront her demons in a healthy way and helps her heal from them, which is something quinn would never have been able to do. he’s simply not strong enough. lana’s too strong for him. too overpowering. it’s a game of the mouse and the lion.

alternatively, this is why i enjoy the (partly hypothetical) dynamic between quinn and caine and it’s why it’s one of my favourite ships in the series. at the point of their forced proximity, caine is at a much lower state than he was when he and quinn first met, having lost a lot by then and almost walking on eggshells. early fayz caine was far too cocky and arrogant but i think by fear he’s toned it down quite a lot. he’s still a prick, but he’s slightly less of a prick. he’s a prick who understands loss. in the first book, he hadn’t experienced that yet, and it’s what ultimately led to his downfall. he was too confident. meanwhile, early fayz quinn as previously mentioned was cowardly and wouldn’t stand up for himself, whereas late fayz quinn does exactly that w the penny plot. caine previously had something he could and did hold over quinn, but by the end it’s turned entirely on its head and it’s quinn who can hold something over caine. this doesn’t leave them overly unbalanced however, bc it simply knocks caine down to his level. it wouldn’t have worked in the first book bc they were both wildly different people in wildly different positions, but by the end of the series they’ve grown significantly, as well as their importance to the town, but can also still learn things from each other, like caine chilling the fuck out and perhaps not being a shit person, while quinn learns how to stand his ground and be stronger. it’s balanced. i think that’s the foundation any relationship needs, and in the series there’s a lot of ships that simply don’t have that.

a ship can have an interesting dynamic and still not realistically work. if there’s no balance, everything falls apart.

[wyrmswears]

hello hello wyrm!! i mentioned a day or so ago that i’ve been meaning to send you an ask and here it is o7

in your inhuman thundersnow au (which has me hook line and sinkered btw) i know that you’ve said that raijū (particularly lightning elementals) draw strength and power from their lightning. and although jay’s had time to develop his natural lightning, if he was to use shatterspin - a technique that corrupted the soul and by extension the element - would it affect his raijū form? 

and on a similar vein - did libber know that it was mostly the element of lightning that powered her raijū form? did she know that it wouldn’t last and that eventually she’d fizz out? and if she did - did she ever tell the other elemental masters? did they ever know or suspect that one day she would be gone, without anything left behind?

if youre new here, this is about my inhuman thundersnow au

ok, ive been pondering this and i think itd be interesting for it to cause a larger split between his raijū and human identities. the way i headcanon shatterspin’s effects right now is that it makes the element stronger at the cost of stability. jay’s lightning is more potent in his raijū form (since that form is just a better conductor, and i can imagine his natural lightning spiking when hes in it) so i can see him slipping into his raijū form more often, sometimes without even realising it, after performing shatterspin. furthermore, in that form he feels the strengthening effects more, making him more aggressive and reckless, and at the same time prone to losing himself in a completely different way to before shatterspin. in an earlier post about inhuman thundersnow au i mention him losing himself by becoming something lesser rather than something greater. by becoming a part of nature and the natural order. shatterspin flips this on its head and pretty much centres his thoughts on his own being and benefit. this ultimately makes him much scarier in his raijū form as hes more powerful, more aggressive, and acting with intent. im also leaning towards having a longer-term effect of making him sick. if he used shatterspin a number of times, his element could begin to depend on it for strength, meaning when the shatterspin wears out, his functioning largely decreases. he is fatigued and suffers from brain fog and nausea. this is particularly bad in his raijū form, but hes also grown used to being in that form since shatterspin feels better with it. its a miserable feeling that only makes him more eager to further shatter his soul, when in reality recovery can only come after he detaches himself from shatterspin entirely.

in some random tags of another post i remember talking about libber understanding her death after passing on her powers in some instinctual way. she’s knowledgeable on general raijū lifespans and therefore knows that she’d fizz out one day, but she didn’t understand her dependency on her element at first. this ask is really interesting and its made me love the idea of libber realising that she needs her lightning to live one time but not comprehending completely what that means. picture this: the elemental alliance encounters vengestone at one point and libber only so briefly comes in contact with it, but for that brief moment she is dying. she knows that shes dying - its instinctual knowledge that comes with the feeling - and its a sensation that haunts her afterwards. the fear it leaves her with manifests itself as paranoia and for a few weeks she stays silent about the events until ice asks her what happened and she finally discloses it. ice understands what happened, of course he does, he knows these things, and warns her about her dependency on the lightning element. the others don’t find out about the incident, and eventually it leaves libber’s mind completely. she doesn’t foresee her death once jay inherits her element until its happening. the masters that remain after libber passed away don’t know much at all about raijū’s deaths - that information was never relevant enough for libber to share it - and dont know that any attempts to look for a body would fail. they might have even expected libber to have a longer-than-human lifespan, so her disappearance would come out of the left field for them.

[freshlybakedspiderbread]

ive always wanted to talk a bit about how i feel about the connection between Yukari and Merry because i love the endless parallels and thematic connections (like everyone else on the planet 😁), but wondering if it was ever 'worth' it since i may just be spouting a lot of what is already considered 'common knowledge' among hifuu aficionados. Not to mention i think my thoughts on it are somehow both really messy but also crystal clear. 😐 Well whatever! Its my own head anyway so i'll try not to worry and am gonna attempt to elaborate even if just a little on this post, which may not be entirely coherent due to sleepy, post-medicine fatigue.

i feel like over the years i may have started to become reflexively more 'against' yukari = merry fandom, although 'against' is probably too strong and its much more complicated than just "i dont subscribe to that theory" because thats not even entirely accurate!

it is of course a classic and really cool idea of the Merry one day becoming Yukari has been and continues to be thoroughly explored by many many fans for moving, tragic, bittersweet, or thought provoking work. I love Absolute One-Way Street, and also Dream and Reality among many other works like it 📖

but i also think its a little stiffling to think of that as the one and only story to tell about them? Now its possible that the sentiment im about to express isn't actually common and im actually just making up a person to respond to, but i think taking the teasing connections between Yukari and Merry and treating the idea of them being the same individual as the absolute obvious truth is a bit of a limiting perspective.

Of course everyone is entitled to their own opinions and headcanons! but i want to make a case that when it comes to touhou and especially hifuu in particular, there's also a richer (and possibly deliberate on the author? who knows!) point to treat it more abstractly.

Maybe they are the same person. Maybe one day Merry becomes Yukari, or Yukari becomes Merry. Maybe they're different people. Maybe they come from the same lineage. Or maybe one is a clone of the other grown in a lab or made with a magic spell.

None of that is as important to me as the the roles they serve in their stories. touhou has always had themes about the gap and the bridge between fantasy and reality by taking place in a world where fantasy seeks refuge from reality, and hifuu goes much further in that theme by taking place in a reality that has completely left behind fantasy. That parallel is really cool to me and its embodied perfectly by both stories having a purple-clad blonde girl with the means to poking their toes into the boundary between fantasy and reality.

In the fantastical world of touhou, one serves as gensokyo's powerful (if frustrating, shady, annoying, disagreeable) protector with allies that she watches over (and sometimes manipulates) with her great power, all to preserve their little wonderworld. And I think its sooo compelling how zun introduced hifuu in the music cds and designed a very similar-looking character, who lives in a stifled reality lacking in imagination, mostly spends her day chasing after even the smallest traces of dreams with a partner whose own small logical world expanded with infinite possiblities upon their meeting...

In the last few cds, Merry's powers may be growing stronger and i get why feeds the implication she's becoming something other than human. But my take on that has always been its more of a sign that she and Renko are already outliers in their world simply for daring to believe there is more to the world beyond facts and logic. I dont expect their story (assuming zun ever brings them back. we havent heard what theyre up to since 2016....) to ever end with both or either of them becoming a youkai or vanishing to gensokyo, because frankly that wouldn't serve any purpose for the themes hifuu has been about, which is embracing fantasy while living in a world that has abandoned it.

trying to remember what my point with this post is.... Oh right its that I think all these themes about the nature of gensokyo or the state of reality in hifuu are only made richer when you think about how they contrast with one another. And by extension, I think Yukari and Merry are both richer if you think of them as conceptual and thematic counterparts in two different stories on the opposite end of a similar spectrum, before thinking about what literal or objective connection they might have. Subjectivity definitely means more than objectivity in this case!

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS VERSUS SONG Bloody Night Vol.Ⅳ Mini Drama “Reiji VS Kanato”

Original title: 録り下ろしミニドラマ「レイジＶＳカナト」

Source: Diabolik Lovers VERSUS SONG Bloody Night Vol. IV Mini Drama

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Katsuyuki Konishi & Kaji Yuki

Translator’s note: Reiji and Kanato are a...fascinating combination to say for sure. They were paired for the very first VERSUS CDs as well though, so it isn’t exactly new either. I remember back then it revealed how Reiji could be much more intense than his initial calm demeanor leads to believe, but after HDB, they decided to kind of get rid of this ‘wild’ side of him for some reason. Although in this case, it might be for the best because Kanato already brings more than enough chaos to the table. 

*Rustle rustle*

Kanato: …Going to bed already?

You seem startled.

Kanato: Fufu~ What’s the matter? …I was so nice to come all the way to your room. So shouldn’t you be a little happier? ーー That being said, I feel as if your scent is stronger than usual. …Hey. Did somebody suck your blood?

You shake your head.

Kanato: Hmー I see…But I can’t trust your words. So how about we do this…?

*RIIIIIP*

Kanato: Come on, show me your arm.

You hesitate.

Kanato: Hurry up, please. Come on…!

*Rustle rustle*

Kanato: Fufufu…I’m going to tie you up nice and tight with the sheets like this. Aren’t you glad? Besides…

*Rustle*

Kanato: If I tie your other arm to mine, you won’t be able to leave my side anymore. I’ll get to hog your blood all to myself.

You wriggle around.

Kanato: No point in trying to run. You are far too weak to untie yourself. I made sure to make a tight knot. Well then, I suppose I shall indulge in your blood right away. Haah…I’m terribly parched, you see.

*Thud*

Kanato: You’re happy, aren’t you? You get to savor my fangs after all. I’ll mark you all over. …Now where to start? From the neck, per usual? Or perhaps I should go for the shoulder or your lower back instead? …But I suppose I’ll start off with the neck after all. Fufufu…Such beautiful, fair skin…Looks scrumptious.

*Rustle rustle*

Kanato: Don’t move, please. How am I supposed to suck your blood like this!? You truly are a natural at ruining my mood, aren’t you? Are you perhaps doing it on purpose?

You shake your head.

Kanato: If not, then why? Ah, I get it. You cannot help but react out of sheer job, can you? However, I can’t suck your blood very well like that. Fufu…Fufufu…I just had a genius idea! I can simply tie down your ankles as well!

*RIIIIIP*

Kanato: By fixing them to the bed like this…Heh. Now you can thrash about all you want and it won’t be an issue. …Hm? You’ve got tears pooling in the corners of your eyes? Have you grown scared of me, perhaps? Please rest assured. I won’t do anything else as long as you don’t attempt to run.

Of course, I won’t deny that it seems very fascinating to witness you scream in pain as your skin turns deep crimson.

You wriggle around.

*Rustle rustle*

Kanato: Fufu…Are you sure you should be doing this? If you keep at it, I might just do something truly horrible to you. Or do you enjoy the pain, perhaps?

You stop moving.

Kanato: Hm. Seems like you finally understood. I wonder how many times I need to repeat myself until it gets through to you?

Kanato bites you.

Kanato: Mmh…Nn…

*Sluuuuurp*

*Gulp*

Kanato: …Ah. Just as I thought, your blood is truly first-rate.

*Sluuuuurp*

Kanato: Hah…

*Sluuuuurp*

*Gulp gulp*

Kanato: Haah…I’ll suck you till you almost reach your limit, okay?

*Sluuuuurp*

*Gulp*

*Sluuuuurp*

Kanato: …Mm~ You can’t help but wriggle around from the pleasure? You truly are a hopeless girl, aren’t you? I’ll give you even more. Fufu…You must be so happy to get rewarded by me, huh?

*Sluuuuurp*

Kanato: Nn…

*Sluuuuurp*

*Gulp*

*Sluuuuurp*

Kanato: Mmh…

*Gulp*

Kanato: …Ah~ It’s so sweet, I can’t stop. Now where to suck from next? I’d like it to hurt as much as possible, but the blood also needs to be tasty. …In that case, I believe this spot might be ideal.

Your eyes widen in horror.

Kanato: Fufu…Fufufu…Look at how swollen and bright red your skin is over here, I’m sure there’s lots of blood gathered underneath. I mean, the fabric of the sheets has been rubbing across it with each and every one of your movements.

*Rustle*

Kanato: The way your heart is beating loudly sounds as if it’s begging me to hurry up and bite down…Aah~ I doubt I’ll be able to hold back. When I imagine the sweetness of your blood flowing underneath this skin, I can barely contain myself. Haah…

He bites you again.

*Sluuuuurp*

*Gulp gulp gulp*

Kanato: …Hah! It’s much richer than before…!

*Gulp gulp*

*Sluuuuurp*

*Gulp*

*Rustle rustle*

Kanato: …Hah. …Haah? Oh shut up, will you? All you need to do is continue to offer me your blood until I’m satisfied. I want much, much more! I haven’t had enough at all. Now then, more…

*Sluuuuurp*

*Gulp gulp*

*Sluuuuurp*

*Gulp*

Kanato: Hah…

*Sluuuuurp*

*TIMESKIP*

*Dingーdongー Dingー dongー*

Kanato: Zz…Zz…

Reiji: Kanato. Wake up.

You wake up.

*Rustle rustle*

Reiji: Oh dear. You woke up instead. Kanato is…

Kanato: Zz…

Reiji: …still sound asleep, it seems.

You ask Reiji what has brought him here.

Reiji: Why I came here, you ask? Because I was looking for Kanato. Apparently he broke some school equipment and did not inform anyone about it. I was asked by one of the teachers to give him a warning in their place.

Since I could not find him in his own room nor the living room, I thought that perhaps he had gone on one of his rare trips outside, but then I picked up on the scent of your blood coming from here.

…Kanato sucked your blood throughout the whole night, did he not? How do you explain that?

You shake your head.

Reiji: Denying it now? Fufu…Seems like you underestimate me quite a bit. No point in trying to make up excuses. Did you truly think I would not notice the scent of your blood filling this entire room?

*Rustle rustle*

Reiji: You are tied to the bed on top of that…Good grief. Kanato has some deplorable tastes. Keep still, understood?

You thank him.

Reiji: …Hah. I did not untie you to do you a favor. I have been feeling uncomfortable ever since I entered this room. To think that I have warned you so many times about not letting anyone but me suck your blood…

*Rustle*

Reiji: These various bite marks left behind on your neck…They were all left behind by Kanato, were they not? Good grief…What a mess. Nothing but filthy marks of someone who indulged in blood out of sheer gluttony.

It would seem that you need to be punished severely. For seducing Kanato for your own pleasure, getting him as far as to suck your blood. You should be taught a lesson…by my fangs.

*Rustle*

Reiji: However…Sucking from the same spot he did would go against my personal policy.

*Rustle*

Reiji: I shall give your back a taste of my punishment instead. This part of you has been left unmarked after all.

*Rustle*

Reiji: Please keep silent. I cannot guarantee the situation taking a turn for the worst if Kanato were to wake up.

Reiji bites you.

*Gulp*

Reiji: Mm…

*Gulp*

Reiji: …Hah…

*Gulp*

Reiji: Hah…Are you sure? The more you wriggle around, the higher the chances that Kanato will wake up. …Or are you doing this on purpose, because you want to show off to him? I will not criticize you for having such preferences, but I have to say, it is something unexpected.

You whimper.

Reiji: This was meant to be a punishment but…Good grief. You truly are hopeless. …However, I suppose it does not feel bad. I shall make sure you get a thorough feeling of my fangs.

*Gulp gulp*

Reiji: Nn…

*Gulp gulp*

Reiji: …I believe I told you to keep quiet? Will you not listen to me?

You protest.

Reiji: Then bite down on some fabric. …Come on, look this way.

*Rustle*

Reiji: Hmph. How laughable. However, I can properly punish you now. I am still nowhere near done. We shall keep going until you realize who exactly you belong to. …However, the sight of someone else’s marks carved into your skin is truly upsetting. I suppose I have no other choice. …Excuse me for a second.

*Rustle*

Reiji: I shall suck from your shoulder. I should be able to let you experience a sharp pain that way.

You tense up.

Reiji: Are you frightened? However, I have to do this, otherwise you will never truly understand who you belong to, no?

*Rustle*

Reiji: I am sure Kanato will be surprised as well. I doubt he could have ever imagined I would be here sucking your blood while he’s sleeping right next to us. Well then…I shall thrust my fangs…even deeper this time.

*Gulp gulp*

Reiji: Mm…

*Gulp gulp*

Reiji: …Hah. Accept the pain. And by doing so, fill your mind with nothing but thoughts of me. Hahn…Mm…

*Rustle*

Reiji: A fine reaction. Well then, lose yourself in me even more…

*Gulp gulp*

Reiji: Mm…Nn…

*Rustle*

Kanato: What on earth are you two doing…!?

Reiji: Oh dear, so you have awoken. I am sucking her blood, as you can tell.

Kanato: I can see…! What I’m asking why you’re here getting ahead of me when I was looking forward to indulging in her blood first thing in the morning…!?

Reiji: Hah. That is simply how you feel about it, no? It has absolutely nothing to do with me.

Kanato: Don’t be ridiculous!! I am the only one who gets to do with her as I please! You’re in the way!

*Rustle*

Kanato: Hey, you feel the same way, don’t you? You think my fangs are a million times better than his, don’t you? Ah…You can’t speak because you’ve got a cloth in your mouth, come you? Let me remove it for you then.

*Rustle*

Kanato: Come on, hurry up and tell him. That I’m number one…and that he’s getting in our way!

You remain quiet.

Kanato: Hm…What’s wrong? Hey, why can’t you say it?

Reiji: Kanato…That is because she does not wish to have her blood sucked by you, don’t you think? She feels satisfied after I bit her. In other words, you are unnecessary.

Kanato: Haah…? What are you saying? That makes zero sense! She felt better than ever before when I sucked her blood!

Reiji: That applies for when I fed off her. I had no other choice but to have her bite down on fabric just to keep her quiet after all.

*Rustle*

Reiji: Isn’t that right? You want me…to suck your blood. Just like this…

*Gulp*

Reiji: Mm…

*Gulp gulp*

Kanato: …!! Reiji…!! What are you doing!?

Reiji: See? Your body is heating up already. Just as I thought, you simply cannot escape my fangs. That’s what this means, no? Ignore the onlookers. All you need to do is be there for me.

Kanato: Kuh…You won’t get away with this…UNFORGIVABLE!!

*Rustle*

Kanato: I am the only one who gets to have their way with you!

Kanato bites you as well.

*Gulp*

*Rustle rustle*

Kanato: Fufu…Fufufu…Such a loud scream. Guess I am the best after all. I’ll give you more and more…! I’ll make an exception today and grant all of your desires! Under normal circumstances, I’d be pressuring you for letting Reiji do with you as he pleases. …Say, where has he not bit you yet? Show me. I’ll leave plenty of my marks on you…So, okay?

*Rustle*

Reiji: Good grief…I wish you would not get distracted by other things. What you should be focusing on instead…are my fangs.

*Rustle*

Reiji: Anyone can tame you with pain…Kanato can, as well as myself, and the others too. ーー However, I am the only one capable of making you experience pleasure at the same time. The way I suck your blood…will make you my captive…Nn…

*Gulp gulp*

Reiji: Yes…Lose yourself in my fangs…just like that. I shall give you them plenty more.

*Rustle*

Reiji: Well then, once more…

*Gulp gulp*

Reiji: Mmh…Nn…

*Gulp*

Kanato: K-Kuh…!! H-How could you…I won’t forgive you!! Both of you are making a fool out of me!! …I can suck her blood however I want…! …Hey! I’m the only one you need, right?

*Sluuuurp*

Kanato: Nn…

*Sluuuurp*

Reiji: Heh. Seems like she isn’t enjoying that very much. I believe that sucking one’s blood thinking only of your own pleasure won’t be well received by the other party.

…Now then, accept only my fangs. You are mine after all. Nnh…Mmh…

*Gulp gulp*

Reiji: Nn…

Kanato: …She belongs to me.

*Sluuuurp*

*Gulp gulp*

Kanato: Look, she’s twitching. I’ll suck you even harder, okay?

*Sluuuurp*

Kanato: Hahn…

*Sluuuurp*

Reiji: You truly are a slave to your own desires…reacting to both of us like that. I suppose it cannot be helped. I believe I shall have to teach you just how great my fangs are all over again.

*Gulp*

Kanato: …Hah. You say the strangest things. Just by looking at her, it should be obvious that I have won this show-off. However…It might be nice to see Reiji devastated by his defeat. Come on, show him how you lose yourself in me even more…Nn…

*Sluuuurp*

Kanato: Mmh…

*Sluuuurp*

*Gulp*

Reiji: I do not see why I would have to pay any mind to this nonsense, but I shall stay here with you until you fully understand. After all…I have plenty of time on my hands.

Well then, drop all the way down…to the dark depths of Hell. Hahn…

*Gulp*

Reiji: Mm…Nn…

*Gulp gulp*

*Rustle rustle*

Reiji: Nnh…

*Rustle rustle*

ーー THE END ー ー

[wolveria]

You've got more planned for Yielding???? 👀 Also gimmie Revan x Reader I love me some old republic 👌

Sadly no, that's just the original doc for Yielding XD I'm sorry!! But you know I've got more Crosshair lurking in the wings

YESSSS BABE I'LL GET YOU SOME REVAN GOODNESS

The bridge was dark, empty of crew, which was odd considering the ship was currently being boarded by the enemy.

You wouldn’t have seen it with your eyes, the light too dim and sporadic, but you sensed the presence, as old and familiar as a much-beloved blanket, though this one had grown strangling around your neck.

The dark robed figure waited, motionless, in front of the massive viewport. He’d been… expecting you? A small, hopeful voice tried to make itself heard, but you crushed it down before it could speak. You gathered your focus and calmed your emotions. There were too many to name, vying to be at the top, but there was only one that ruled the others.

Rage.

You unclipped your lightsaber from your belt.

“Hello, Master.”

You ignited the blade.

The hood of the figure slightly turned, its wearer moving his head in your direction, and words filtered through a mask, twisting the once familiar voice into something alien and cruel.

“Not the greeting I expected.”

You shifted on your feet, one sliding back as the other moved forward. Readying your position.

“But it is the one you deserve.”

He paused, another tilt of his head.

“Perhaps.”

You crept closer, blue lightsaber raised in a defensive position, watching for the snake to strike.

“By order of the Galactic Republic and the Jedi High Council, you will surrender yourself into my custody.”

“For what crimes?” he asked, amusement flitting at the edges.

“Treason,” you spit out, unable to keep your own tone anywhere near civil, rage bleeding into the words. “Sedition. Conspiracy to kidnap high-ranking officials, assassination of high-ranking senators, and war crimes against the galaxy.”

“That’s quite the list.”

You wanted to bare your teeth, but that would carry you forward to the action of biting.

“I’m not done. You will also be charged with the near complete genocide of the people of Telos IV.”

Finally, some emotion other than amusement.

“I did not order that bombardment.”

The slope of his shoulders were stiff against the constellations and battle outside, bursts of orange and yellow where lasers and torpedoes hit their targets.

“And yet, it was carried out in your name,” you said, voice low, the words simmering around the hum of your lightsaber as if the blade agreed. “For your glory. Don’t turn away from it now, Lord of the Sith.”

He still wouldn’t turn to look at you, as if unconcerned there was a lightsaber at his back, and his lofty words confirmed it.

“Where are the rest of my jailors?”

You bristled.

“They’re coming.”

In the distance was an explosion somewhere on the ship, and your old master tilted his head once again.

“Yes. I’m sure they’ll be here any moment.”

You leapt at him before you realized what you were doing and swung your lightsaber down.

A crimson lightsaber ignited and arched over his head, blade parallel to the ground, and he blocked your attack without even bothering to turn around.

You pulled back your blade and swung again, but he ducked under it, moving behind you as you spun. He brought his crimson weapon down and hit your blade so hard you were forced back against the cold transparisteel of the viewport.

The severe mask stared down at you from inches away, reflecting the blue and red dance of the locked lightsabers. Even after all your training since he left, Revan was still stronger than you. Faster. More experienced.

But he hadn’t been hurt the way you had. He didn’t have your pain.

The rage of his betrayal, the agony of his abandonment, the loss of your old mentor, you poured it all into your limbs, your strength, and with a scream in your throat, you shoved him back.

[mummersblade]

It is cute (and important!) how we get to see Ghost and Nymeria's interactions considering how little time they have together. These snippets feel extra special when you compare it to their moments, or lack thereof, with the other direwolves, like Nymeria and Lady at the Trident or even Ghost with his brothers in Jon's last chapter at Winterfell.

Summer is outside when Jon says goodbye to an injured, unconscious Bran, and while Grey Wind is with Robb when Jon goes to him, the wolves don't have any kind of moment of acknowledgement or familiarity.

Robb was in the middle of it, shouting commands with the best of them. He seemed to have grown of late, as if Bran's fall and his mother's collapse had somehow made him stronger. Grey Wind was at his side. (Jon II, AGoT)

This is the only time Grey Wind is referenced in Jon's farewell chapter. While Jon has his last goodbye with his best friend and fiercest rival, the direwolves are never referred in proximity to one another.

Of course, Jon's last farewell in Winterfell is the most important one: Arya. Here we get some great lines and moments while also including observations by Nymeria in relation to both Ghost and Jon.

Nymeria was helping. Arya would only have to point, and the wolf would bound across the room, snatch up some wisp of silk in her jaws, and fetch it back. But when she smelled Ghost, she sat down on her haunches and yelped at them. Arya glanced behind her, saw Jon, and jumped to her feet. She threw her skinny arms tight around his neck. "I was afraid you were gone," she said, her breath catching in her throat. (Jon II, AGoT)

-

"Who cares how they're folded?" "Septa Mordane," Jon told her. "I don't think she'd like Nymeria helping, either." The she-wolf regarded him silently with her dark golden eyes. "It's just as well. I have something for you to take with you, and it has to be packed very carefully." (Jon II, AGoT)

This scene is obviously all about Arya and Jon's closeness, not their direwolves', but I do think it says a lot that out of all the other direwolves only Nymeria is seen paying attention to and reacting to Ghost and Jon. She scents Ghost out and calls to him, just as she watches Jon as he talks with Arya. Nymeria perceives and acknowledges them both. There is a familiarity and recognition between the wolves, not so different from the one between their owners. This unique relationship between the wolves was established from Arya's first chapter; just as Nymeria gives away Jon's approach in his farewell chapter, Ghost does the same to Arya in her first chapter, dictating this relationship of being perceived and then wholly accepted by one another.

They arrived, flushed and breathless, to find Jon seated on the sill, one leg drawn up languidly to his chin. He was watching the action, so absorbed that he seemed unaware of her approach until his white wolf moved to meet them. Nymeria stalked closer on wary feet. Ghost, already larger than his litter mates, smelled her, gave her ear a careful nip, and settled back down. (Arya I, AGoT)

Nipping is shown to be a sign of affection for both Ghost and Nymeria when it comes to their owners.

Jon grinned and reached under the table to ruffle the shaggy white fur. The direwolf looked up at him, nipped gently at his hand, then went back to eating (Jon I, AGoT)

-

Nymeria nipped eagerly at her hand as Arya untied her. (Arya I, AGoT)

Compare this to when Jon threatens Rast to stop him from bullying Sam.

Hours later, as the castle slept, three of them paid a call on [Rast's] cell. Grenn held his arms while Pyp sat on his legs. Jon could hear Rast's rapid breathing as Ghost leapt onto his chest. The direwolf's eyes burned red as embers as his teeth nipped lightly at the soft skin of the boy's throat, just enough to draw blood. "Remember, we know where you sleep," Jon said softly. (Jon IV, AGoT)

Nipping is no longer friendly. Even when done 'lightly,' as described here, the gesture can go from one of familiarity to violence, dependent on the relationship between the creature and the human, further emphasizing the intimacy and trust of letting a wolf's teeth near you. Ghost playfully nips Jon many times through the series, and we get it between Arya and Nymeria even for the brief time they have together. That we have it also between Ghost and Nymeria portrays a level of trust and closeness to one another, too. They have a fond gesture just as Jon and Arya have their own fond gesture (Jon mussing Arya's hair, something they both miss across the series).

(side note: it's funny how the only other thing that nips Arya in THE WHOLE SERIES after her separation from Nymeria is a dragon skull...hmmmmm....)

For an instant she could feel [the skull's] teeth digging into her shoulder, as if it wanted a bite of her flesh. Arya whirled, felt leather catch and tear as a huge fang nipped at her jerkin, and then she was running. (Arya III, AGoT)

The dragon skulls "bite" her on her first meeting with them, but on her second pass through, she sees the same skulls as old friends. For the sharp gesture of their initial encounter, she harbors no ill-feelings for the skulls and finds companionship with them. This can be read either towards Dany and their future friendship, one that may grow from skepticism to familiarity and mutual trust, or it goes back around to Jon (or both!). Anyway, that was a tangent--

The few moments we get of Nymeria and Ghost together are a microscopic part of AGoT, let alone the whole series, but I still think their relationship is indicative of the one between Jon and Arya. It is an unguarded relationship, one built on shared feelings and trust; the ability to show their teeth and not have the other run away in fear. Arya knows Jon will accept her regardless of what she has done to survive. Jon has some of his most vicious thoughts when thinking of Arya's impending wedding to Ramsay Bolton, a fierce protectiveness that drives him to break his vows. These two characters are attuned to their wolves, even if they do not yet fully understand that, and the text already makes it clear how important and mutualistic the bond is between the wolf and its bonded human.

The kennelmaster once told her that an animal takes after its master. (Sansa I, AGoT)

This seems especially true when we look back to Arya's first chapter in the series.

"Nothing is fair," Jon said. He messed up her hair again and walked away from her, Ghost moving silently beside him. Nymeria started to follow too, then stopped and came back when she saw that Arya was not coming. Reluctantly she turned in the other direction. (Arya I, AGoT)

Nymeria's instinct is to go with Ghost, a sort of foreshadowing for how much Arya will want to be back with Jon across the series. She tries to go to him to the Wall, though she hasn't made it there (yet).

Ghost and Nymeria seem all the closer when we go back to Grey Wind and Ghost in Jon's farewell chapter, and then Nymeria and Lady at the Trident. Before Lady's death, the wolves are with their girls but show no familiarity with one another.

"There's going to be lemon cakes and tea," Sansa went on, all adult and reasonable. Lady brushed against her leg, Sansa scratched her ears the way she liked, and Lady sat beside her on her haunches, watching Arya chase Nymeria. "Why would you want to ride a smelly old horse and get all sore and sweaty when you could recline on feather pillows and eat cakes with the queen?" (Sansa I, AGoT)

Lady keeps close to Sansa, distant from her sister-wolf and Arya. Much like the strained relationship between the Stark sisters, Lady and Nymeria share no fond gestures or approach one another, keeping beside their owners instead. This is the closest they get to interacting until Lady's death and Nymeria's forced departure. There is no yelping, no nipping, just a passive gaze, since she remains sitting.

Of course there is also a fact that Nymeria is the alpha female and Ghost the alpha male of the fractured pack. If there is any doubt of their status, the books make it clear.

"I heard the same thing from my cousin, and she's not the sort to lie," an old woman said. "She says there's this great pack, hundreds of them, mankillers. The one that leads them is a she-wolf, a bitch from the seventh hell." (Arya II, ACoK)

He had known what Snow was the moment he saw that great white direwolf stalking silent at his side. One skinchanger can always sense another. Mance should have let me take the direwolf. There would be a second life worthy of a king. (Prologue, ADwD)

Nymeria is the leader of her pack, and Ghost is likened to a king. Considering the leadership arc Jon has in ADwD, and the foreshadowing for Arya's potential leadership capabilites in later books, their connection to their wolves can also indicate impending leadership roles in the North and in the war against the Others. I also think the snippet of Nymeria immediately following Ghost can foreshadow Arya supporting Jon's claim as KitN, especially if she does show up from the Riverlands with Robb's crown.

There is a connection between all the Starks' direwolves, as both Jon and Bran think about their whole pack when they warg into their wolves. However, the initial interactions between Nymeria and Ghost just reiterate how close Arya and Jon are, a relationship that is distinct from all the rest. While they may see their siblings as pack, too, there is a deeper layer to their relationship.

Now to get all speculative - the importance of being called to and recognizing one another through their wolves/the connection they have with their wolves will play a role in their reunion, I suspect. There are too many snippets snuck into Arya's Braavos chapters about animals being able to see past disguises, even those of magical origins--all at the same time of her worrying about Jon recognizing her.

She scratched his head behind one ear, and the cat jumped up into her lap and began to purr. Braavos was full of cats, and no place more than Pynto's. The old pirate believed they brought good luck and kept his tavern free of vermin. "You know me, don't you?" she whispered. Cats were not fooled by a mummer's moles. They remembered Cat of the Canals. (The Blind Girl, ADwD)

-

When she stopped to watch and listen for a moment, Tagganaro glanced at her without recognition, but Casso barked and clapped his flippers. He knows me, the girl thought, or else he smells the fish. She hurried on her way. (The Ugly Little Girl, ADwD)

-

But they were all dead now, even Arya, everyone but her half-brother, Jon. Some nights she heard talk of him, in the taverns and brothels of the Ragman's Harbor. The Black Bastard of the Wall, one man had called him. Even Jon would never know Blind Beth, I bet. That made her sad. (The Blind Girl, ADwD)

Why make it so clear that animals have a way to see past disguises, magical or otherwise? As Arya is donning new identities and faces even, she remarks on how she can still be recognized by animals she has befriended: the cats she can skinchange into and the King of Seals, another 'royal' animal in the series. Yet she is saddened at the thought of not being recognized by Jon, who, by the end of the same novel, is likely warged into Ghost following his assassination, adding a new depth to their relationship which has not been fully explored in its potential consequences. I think that animals' perceptions of Arya's disguises in Braavos are included to possibly circle back to Nymeria and Ghost, who discerned and welcomed one another (and their bonded wargs) in their short time together. We may see this again with Arya and Jon returning to one another, changed from who they once were, both now wargs deeply connected to their wolves, both physically and mentally different from when they were last together years past, but still being entirely seen and accepted by each other, regardless of what time and hardships have done to them both.

[fried-phrogcakes]

spoilers for paper mario: origami king !!

i uhhh havent finished it just yet but im so obsessed and in love that i need to ramble,, (just deleted purple ribbon)

you have been warned

OH my glob there is nothing in the world that can make me happier than this game,, dont get me wrong i love my boyfriend but this is just such an amazing game im going to fucking cry when i finish it because the first time experience will be over,, but !! ive been savouring it as much as i can

as i get closer to beating the game and saving all the toads i can find along the way, its still really weird seeing the stadium of toads filling up so much.. like what im just a guy- BRO and - mmmmMMMM

i havent played many mario games but this is absolutely by far my favourite mario iteration as a character. he is so silly and so goofy and hes not mean to luigi and he dances and grooves and has such a silly fun time i really hope there will be a bit more luigi content too after i save the castle or something i love them both so much

and like olivia was a lil annoying at first, some of her hints (esp during battle) can be pretty useless and she holds your hand through a lot of things,, reminding me that im playing a kids game, but ive grown to love her a lot i love how silly she is even tho she is quite oblivious sometimes. her dancing is so cute and while its not like technically her form or whatever its so cool seeing her fold into the different vellumentals!!!

.......i miss bob-omb "bobby" :( why did silly fun game have angst.. OUGH AND HE SHOWS UP IN THE PICTURES YOU TAKE AT SHOGUN STUDIOS IT MAKES ME SOB wah hes following and keeping along on the adventure :(((( i love him 😭 gary come home moment,,,

um.. anyway. moving on from my heartbreak theres just like a kajillion reasons to love this game, and while i dont have the comparison of the other paper marios i have no clue how the hell this one is deemed as the worst one!! sure the combat is a little weird but its puzzling and challenging and so unique!! ..albeit i dont like doing it over and over and over but as you get more health you get stronger and can just smack em with ur hammer and not have to fight them which i REALLY appreciate

anyways it just has so much in it and i love the puzzles and the silly little things inside i love the sneaky stuff and 😭 the shogun theatre show was just amazing. idk how many hours of gameplay i have in it so far but it feels like eons /pos

i dont think ive ever had a game that ive hyperfixated on so hard that has made me smile and laugh and cry so much this will forever hold such a strong place in my heart and while i cant wait to finish it i absolutely never want it to be over

so that being said!! if this IS the "worst paper mario game" then honestly all i have to look forward to is up!! i love the toads so much i love the silly ways you find them.... im also curious what wouldve happened if i agreed w the folded soldier in the very beginning and went yeah!! being folded sounds amazing sign me up!! .........bro........ that could open up a whole alternate storyline gameplay. probably not but like imaging it is so cool!! like.. mario gets folded and then instead of saving toads he folds em up n is on a quest to put all the ribbons in place or something

im not sure exactly how it would work out but a sort of anti-mario would be very neat

urgh okay its late im gonna conclude this as part 1 of my rambling abt paper mario lmao, a lot of words but not a lot was said

[heterophobicdyke]

I don't know if you're taking more asks for the woman who doesn't like being a woman, but I'll share my perspective:

I'm probably one of the few women in this world who has never wanted to be male. Even when wanting to be stronger or faster, I'd still wish and fantasize about being a stronger woman, not a man in any way. Even periods, while annoying never convinced me that being a man was a better option. I like being a woman; I guess I like our body parts better than male sexual characteristics, I wouldn't want to deal with having a penis or getting erections and having something coming out of my genitals every time I masturbate. I don't like the idea of having a higher sex drive, being more aggresive, wanting to dominate and having a higher probability of getting bald lol.

Another thing is I'm glad I don't have to deal with male-on-male aggression. Don't get me wrong, women get the short end of the stick when it comes to males sexual aggression, yet I don't interact with men much and more importantly, I don't have a boyfriend even though I'm straight so I basically don't have to deal with that often. Men do have to deal with other men whether they like it or not (unless they become hermits), and the things I've heard and witness when it comes to intra male antagonistic encounters is something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. People sometimes say "men just beat each other and get on with life, women might not fight but they will destroy you socially", but I could never see how physical altercarions are a better deal in any way. Not to mention that nowadays is very common for men to use the same tactics that some people blame only women of using: men gossip, back stab, spread rumors and ostracize each other if necessary (very recently a study found out that men actually apply these techniques more often than women do to move socially, so it seems to be a stereotype fuelled by the male-dominated media that this is a "woman thing").

And finally, I also like feeling that women trust me by default. I've read testimonies from transmen talking about how, as soon as they start "passing" as male, women suddenly began avoiding their gaze on the street, didn't smile at them anymore, moved to the other side of the street to avoid them, and would suddenly start walking faster when they realized this "man" was behind them, constantly looking over their shoulders to see if "he" was still behind them. Some transmen talk about this with understanding even though it hurts them, since they remember acting exactly the same with men before they transitioned. Some act indignant and talk about this being yet another proof of "misandry/transandrophobia". And you know what? I get it in a way, I wouldn't like it that half of the population (the important one to me) doesn't trust me by default. "Cis" men also whine about this, some also understand it's because of men terrible track record with women, but others can't accept that women just don't trust them and cry unfair treatment.

I always go to a woman if I ever need anything. If I'm lost and need help finding a street, I avoid every man until I find a woman. Ive noticed many other women do this too - even when there's a lot of men around, they still go to me for help or advice even if I look much younger than I am thus technically I should be more ignorant about life than the many grown men nearby. But they don't because they prefer to get help from another woman.

This is part of why men talk about feeling "invisible" to society - many times society translates to women and the fact that they don't get much attention from them. They do realize many women prefer each other to them, the myth of women always looking for men for protection and help crafted by media and such is shattered by reality. In a weird way I do empathize with men in certain things, even though they technically dug their own graves. And thats probably why I can still enjoy being a woman over being a man, even though it does have a lot of disadvantages too.

I think the higher sex drive thing is made up and women are just socialised to dissociate from their sexual selves. I also have never wanted to be a man - and I think any woman that does want to be a man moreso wants their social power than actually having a penis and male-patterned balding.

But I agree with pretty much the rest of what you said.