#something something blaming it on the deities looking for blame to give. idk idk idk

[heliotropion]

aristophanes, the knights (424 b.c.)

[lolapiastri]

his sinful secret | p. gasly

warnings: smut, heavy religious imagery and themes, a sinful amount of dirty talk, like pierre cannot stfu, heavy degredation, everyone gets head, choking, a some praise, spitting, this is like actual filth maybe being ill makes me horny idk

author's note: i'm blaming this filth on the fact that i'm under the weather rn but jesus christ be fucking warned, she's a roller coaster

pierre prided himself in his religion. it was important to him, that belief in a higher power was the faith he needed to live the life he did. it seemed the driver life was one full of jealousy, gluttony and lust, but he was determined not to fall victim to the sins like so many before him.

so he payed his dues. he went to church whenever he had a free sunday, said a silent prayer for his friends and family every night, gave thanks to the lord before every meal as a token of appreciation.

his religion wasn’t a joke to him, it never would be. it was a belief that kept him sane, kept him in order, kept some sense of purpose and responsibility in his life. it wasn’t something that he would pick and choose whether to follow or not. he was all or nothing with his belief, and he chose all.

until he met you.

you were his sin personified, his dirty little secret. whenever you two were together all thoughts of his religion left his mind, as he now existed to serve you, to worship in between your thighs, listen to your moans as if they were gospel. it was like any holy thought left his mind the second your skin brushed over his.

he never wanted to give into the temptation. he saw you as a challenge, a sign to resist sin and stay thinking holy thoughts. but when you showed up at the club in a tight white dress, hair tumbling over your shoulders as your hips swayed provocatively to the music, he knew that nothing could stop him taking you home that night, and many a night after that.

which is how he ended up knocking on your flat at 9pm on a monday evening, the day after a tough race where he just felt useless. a double dnf for alpine followed by a race without points. he felt horrible, felt like a failure, and all the comfort that his producers and members could give him could never make him feel as good as you could.

the warm orange hues of a southern french sunset lit up your apartment as you swung open the door, the golden hour glow accenting the faint highlights in your hair. you were underdressed for pierre's standards, normally revealing yourself to him in a lacy set he bought for you, or sometimes even nothing, looking like a greek statue as you left nothing to the imagination.

today was different. you weren’t expecting him; you had no warning to any chain of events about to follow. so you opened the door to show yourself in a white linen shirt, almost certainly his, that was so large on you it was practically a dress, that you had been lounging around your flat in.

pierre didn’t care, however, thinking you were still as stunning as ever. the white made your tanned skin seem darker, and with a few buttons undone your cleavage was truly out on display, a teaser at what he would truly see later. a pair of large hoops hung in each ear, with a small chain around your neck with ‘10’ engraved on it finishing the look. he loved that necklace, a sign that you and him had some kind of connection, even if it was only through a piece of jewellery.

“you alright?” you asked, eyes scanning from head to toe. it was rare for pierre to show up without telling you, if he ever had. there was a silent agreement that he would let you know when he needed to release energy, to be in your presence, to succumb to the sinful energy you supposedly emitted.

he shook his head. “fucked the race yesterday. now wanna fuck you.”

and there it was. the switch that flicked where pierre ignored his religion, ignored the purity and goodness he was supposed to uphold, and you became the deity he worshipped.

his hands grabbed your face as he pulled you into a needy kiss, calloused fingertips rough against your smooth skin. the kiss held a thousand emotions: anger, upset, disappointment, lust, love, and enough passion to knock you back on your feet, needing the stability of pierre's hands to stay upright.

he always kissed you like it was his last on earth, like he may never get to do this again so he was going to savour every second of it. and he was so passionate - maybe because he was annoyed, maybe because he was stressed, or maybe because you were the only person who got to see this pierre. this raw, untamed, animalistic pierre who you adored seeing so much.

he slowly edged you back into your room, hips pushing against yours ever so slightly, enough to encourage your hips up against his, creating the tiniest bit of friction to ease the growing need between your thighs. you heard him shut the door behind you, never once taking his lips off of yours, befor his hands slid from your face to your neck.

you let out a quick gasp as he squeezed into your skin, feeling him smirk into the kiss as your breathing got shallower and shallower. he often did this. pushed your boundaries as far as he could push them. watched as your slowly cracked under the euphoric torture he performed on you.

he pulled back from you, letting out a chuckle as you chased his lips. he looked down, easily towering over you, a look of fake-pity etched all over his face.

“look so pretty with my hands wrapped around your neck, huh?” he asked, almost certainly a rhetorical question as he squeezed that slight bit harder, looking down at your thighs rubbing against each other, determined to find some relief from the ache in your core. “and you love it as well, love it when i choke you, when i treat you like a slut.”

his words went straight to your core, and you couldn’t rebute them without the lie showing all over your face. pierre eased up on your neck, hands now trailing down your body, over your rib cage, counting down with such an intent focus you would think it’s the first time he’s ever seen your body.

“wearing my shirt, must have missed me?” he asked, tone nonchalant but undertone the opposite. the agreement is that you don’t miss each other. you don’t have feeling for one another. you fuck. that’s it.

you took in a deep breath as one hand crawled under the white linen and felt the material of your underwear. lace, of course. pierre's favourite. you were aware of how his race went yesterday, and you were planning on sending him some photos to ease the pain. you did that often, when things weren’t going so well for him in the f1 world, a little pick me up in the form of barely lit lingerie pictures and videos of you moaning his name.

“never,” you teased, your hands rising over his shirt, pulling it off his body and exposing him in all his glory.

my god, was he stunning. you had never seen another man like him, one so broad and muscly yet slim and defined. his skin had grown darker in the past few weeks, undertone becoming more and more golden as his hair lightened under the european sun. he’d been keeping his hair long lately, and though you weren’t a fan at first, when you gripped it while he was your legs it was safe to say it grew on you. his eyes had a chill behind them, one only you were lucky enough to see, which told you that he had one hundred wonderful and wicked ideas to try out with you.

“white lace?” he questioned, having a peek under the shirt, the colour not normal for you. pierre liked navy, so that was what you normally wore, as well as black and red. he didn’t even know you owned a white set, and he had seen a lot of lingerie on you.

you hummed. “you like it?”

he loved it. loved the way the white material contrasted your skin, the way the quickly fading light bounced off it making you glow, the way he could already see the wetness collecting from your arousal. and most of all, he loved the way you looked angelic in it, look like the heavens yourself had sent you, because nothing you ever did was angelic. you were never angelic when you sucked him off, let him fuck you into oblivion, enjoyed being degraded and teased, and when you dressed the part, it somehow made everything more dirty for him.

“would love it more if you got on your knees.” the suggestion was an order, and of course you obeyed, sinking into the cold wooden floor of your bedroom and looking up at him with blinking eyes.

he looked majestic, light pouring out from the window behind him. and when he went to unbuckle his belt, your mouth already starting salivating in preparation, knowing what was coming. pierre must have been able to sense your eagerness, as he let out a wry chuckle looking down on you.

“always so fucking desperate for it, aren’t you?” all you could do was nod in response, leaning forward as mark slid his trousers down to pull his dick out from his boxers.

you were still in awe every time you saw his cock. sure, you’d been big dicks before, but pierre's was something in of itself. it was as majestic as his body was, and taken care of the same way.

you went to take it in your mouth, but pierre quickly tangled a hand in your hair and pulled you back, letting out a soft chuckle as a pout appeared on your lips.

“honestly, i don’t fuck you for two weeks and you forget all your manners. you think you just get to suck my cock? you think you’re worthy of that? dumb little girl.” his degrading words went straight to your core, you having to resist the urge to squeeze your thighs together as you looked up at him pleadingly.

“please, pierre,” his hand tilted your head up, nothing stopping your eyes from baring into his, seeing the devilish glint in his eye, “please.”

“please what? come on, good girls know how to beg properly,” he teased, watching down evilly as you whined at his harsh words.

you took in a deep breath. “please let me suck your cock, pierre.”

he nodded. “keep going.”

“please, just wanna make you feel good. please let me suck it, all i wanna do,” you were unravelling, slowly losing any previous willpower you had to resist his charm, diving headfirst into the depths of hell you two created together. it was a beautiful chaos, a place the two of you could completely unravel and just be morsels of sex and passion. “please, pierre, just want your cock in my mouth.”

“fuck, your such a whore for me. never seen such a lovely girl want cock so bad. but you’re not a lovely girl, are you?” you nodded, so desperate for him. “that’s right, baby, you’re a desperate little slut who’s only thought is dick, so why don’t you show me how much you love this one, yeah?”

his words would be the death of you. they were your bible, you would have done anything he asked you do when he was speaking in that deep, honey tone, french accent getting thicker and thicker as he lost himself in the moment. whatever he preached in church, said as he prayed, these were the opposite of that. these were the thoughts that hid in the back of his mind until he was around you, and then they were an unstoppable spew of sin and lust and as many other unholy emotions he could think of.

you sunk down on his cock as soon as you had permission, taking as much in as possible before starting to bob your head, swirling your tongue when you rose to the tip of his dick. he let out a deep groan when you choked around him, his length still too big even after a few months of sucking him off. his hand tightened around your scalp, guiding you up and down and up and down.

you pulled back to catch a breath, a string of saliva still attached to his dick, creating a link between you. pierre watched as you licked it up, before replacing your mouth his your hand, throwing his head back as your thumb rubbed over his tip.

“tell me how much you love this cock, baby,” he grunted, his words not surprising to you. when everything seemed to be going wrong in his life, pierre thrived on the praise of others. his parents, his mechanics, his engineers, and in this state you. any words that made him feel appreciated, needed, loved, he thrived on.

“love it so much, baby,” you panted, “so so much.”

and with that you started sucking again, still using your hand on everything you struggled to fit. his breaths got shallower and shallower as you kept going, feeling the muscles in his chest tensing as he got closer and closer to his high.

“look at you on your knees for me,” the hand in the back of your hair tilted your head towards the mirror you had in your bedroom, and the sight was one you were sure would be engraved in your memory for years to come.

it was like a renaissance pairing, the way the two of you looked. both glowing in the sunset light, sweating clinging loose strand of hair to your foreheads. pierre's mouth was hung open, defined abs clenched, looking completely gone with pleasure. your back was arched while on your knees, thighs clenched together as your mouth swallowed pierre down, tears slowly building in your eyes, threatening to break loose and paint your cheeks with mascara stained water.

“want me to finish in your mouth?” he groaned, obviously so near to the edge. but he always asked. no matter how intense anything was, pierre always asked.

you hummed in agreement around his cock, sending vibrations through the sensitive skin and bringing his orgasm that little bit closer. he took complete control now, fucking your face with sporadic, wild thrusts, before pulling back and waiting for the orgasm, your hand guiding him through it.

“open your mouth, baby,” he grunted, on the brink of the most sinful euphoria he could feel, “stick your tongue out for me- there you go. pretty little slut on her knees for me. never seen such a beautiful girl act like such a whore-”

and with that he came, covering your tongue and lips with his cum, groaning as he finally got the high he’d craved after the last two weeks. you carried him through it, keeping your mouth open until he’d completely finished.

“show me your tongue, baby,” he panted, a maniacal laugh appearing when you eagerly showed him your face. “god, you’re so good for me, you look so pretty covered in my cum, huh? go on, look at how messy you are for me.”

you turned you back to the mirror, and you got a proper look at how gone you were. your tongue was still out, eyes dazed over, nose to chin covered in pierre's cum, with your cheeks stained with mascara tears.

he pulled your head back, forcing you to look back up at him, before he leant over and spat in your mouth, the most sinful action of the night.

“swallow it up, yeah, there you go,” he almost whispered, and you did as he said, taking everything he had given you and the rest that he swiped in from your cheeks. “god, you’re always such a good girl for me.”

he was always softer after an orgasm, like he suddenly became aware of how harsh his words were, how you could easily take them the wrong way. you never did, but you appreciated the effort, and you appreciated him.

wait. no you didn’t.

“up you get, baby,” he cooed, helping you stand up and immediately wrapping your legs around his waist, carrying your through your flat like it was his own. he had spent so much time here it might as well have been.

he placed you down on the bed, letting you lean against the frame as he dimmed down the lights, leaving the room in a small, romantic glow. he finished undressing himself, before finally turning all of his attention to you.

this is where it became a sin.

see, pierre didn’t believe that pre-marital sex was a sin. well, whether or not it was he was more than happy to partake in it. what was a sin, however, was worshiping false deities. yet that’s exactly what he did to you.

after the agression you had just experienced, pierre knew it was time to turn his attention to in between your thighs, somewhere he could sit for hours and never get bored. it was a form of worship, how he treated you, one that he could never admit to the universe, a secret shared between the two of you.

his hands ran up your bare thighs, kneading them as his mouth followed, leaving a trail of wet, sloppy kisses along your skin. your legs spread automatically, a sigh of pleasure already coming from your mouth, just the motivation pierre needed to keep going.

"fuck, baby," he gasped, as one of his fingers stroked over your panties, feeling your sticky wetness caused from pierre's dirty words earlier, "fucking soaked for me, huh?"

"yes," you sighed as one of his fingers found your clit, making ever so light circles over the lace, "only for you, pierre."

"i know, baby, god you look so beautiful like this."

and he wasn't lying. with your back arched, a thin layer of sweat coating your skin, his shirt bunched up around your ribcage so he could see the rise of fall of your stomach as your breathing got shallower. he thought you were majestic, undenyable beauty, something to be worshipped.

so that's what he did.

he pulled your panties off and dived straight into your pussy, nose hitting your clit as his tongue worked wonders, lapping up the wetness and causing pornographic sounds to emit from your throat. god, was he good at eating you out, and when he added to fingers and curled them against that spot inside of you, you knew you were not lasting long.

"baby- oh my god, pierre- i'm gonna cum," you whined, hips bucking so much pierre had to use one of his arms to hold you in place.

pierre chuckled against your clit, the vibrations just bringing you closer to the edge. "yeah, i'm making you feel good."

"so good, pierre, so so so good."

and that was enough for him. sometimes he would make you beg, have you crying from the edging he would put you through, but he knew he was harsh earlier, and you had been so good your deserved to come.

"come for me then, baby," he grunted, fingers speeding up their pace, "come all over my fingers, make a mess of me, baby."

he words tipped you over the edge, the feeling of euphoria washing over you as pierre carried you through your high, breathing finally slowing down as pierre abandoned your pussy and staring leaving open mouthed kisses against the soft flesh of your thighs.

"think you can go once more for me?" he asked between kisses, and however tired you were you always wanted to please him, always wanted to make him feel good.

so you pulled him over you and braced yourself as he pushed inside of you, the stretch making you hear colours as his lips finally connected with yours for the second time that night, tongue exploring your mouth until he was fully inside of you.

"never gonna get over how good you feel wrapped around me, baby," he mumbled against your lips, pleasure evident on his face, "so fucking warm and wet, this pussy was made for me, wasn't it?"

you couldn't even respond, mouth stuck in an o-shape as he began to thrust in and out, his tip hitting your cervix as he picked up the pace.

"don't know what i would do without this cunt, think i would go insane not knowing this is always here for me, because it is, isn't it? this is my pussy."

pierre told himself he would hold back but he just couldn't help it, the feeling of being inside of you driving him crazy as his hips snapped against yours. only pierre's sinful words and the sound of skin against skin filled the room now, the feeling ever so dirty and sinful, just the way you both liked it.

"my fucking pussy to do whatever i want with, my playtoy, that's what you are, yeah?" he teased, and all you could do was whine in response as you grew closer and closer to your second orgasm.

"just a set of holes for me to use, aren't you? can't even speak because i'm fucking you so good, huh? just a cumdump for me, a slutty, pretty, cumdump. you want my cum, my pretty little whore?"

all you could do was nod, hoping that was enough for pierre right now. he chuckled, but you could tell he was close by the way his thrusts were growing irregular. and he could tell you were close by the way you clenched around him.

"you wanna cum? tell me who's making you feel this good."

you mustered up all the energy you had left to speak, hoping the words came out of your mouth. "you, pierre, only you can make me feel this good."

"tell me you belong to me," pierre didn't even know what he was saying at this point, the words leaving unconciously, his sinful desires becoming more and more evident in the world.

"i'm yours, pierre. every part of me is yours, i belong to you. god-"

"yeah, that's right, i'm your fucking god," he grunted, and that word, even though it's not what you meant, made both of you come undone together, a moan leaving both of your mouths as pierre collapsed against your chest, chests rising and falling as you attempted to calm down.

pierre pulled out, ever so gently, and knelt on the floor at the end of the bed, watching as some of his cum escaped from your swollen pussy. gently, he used his finger to scoop it up, and push it back into your cunt, before leaning back over to meet your lips in a kiss.

"thank you," he muttered, "for this. hope i wasn't too harsh."

you chuckled. "a little, but you know i like it. shit, though, i would have called you god sooner if i knew it would get that reaction."

with those words, pierre froze. those words should have never been said, should have never been put into the universe. it reminded pierre of his sin, of everything you tempted him towards. with no other option, he chose to escape your lustful allure, and made a mental note to pray tonight.

"gotta get back to the office, usami will be expecting me," pierre left one final kiss on your cheek before leaving.

you pouted, so many unspoken words floating on your tongue. stay. be mine. i love you. yet none of them were said, instead sending him a sad smile before grabbing your phone from your bedside table, just hoping deep down he felt the same way.

if only you knew you were just his sinful secret.

[witchbinchstories]

Redacted ASMR Characters as Songs

Ok just saying first: this is kind of a weird mix... in that it’s Freelancer, Lasko, and Gavin... and then Bright Eyes, lol. These are just the ideas that I’ve had that I really feel like fit... ANYWAYS!

TW for mentions about Kody and his gaslighting. Also mentions of self hatred and lots of insecurities. Idk if that needs to be a warning, but I’m putting it here anyways.

---------

Bright Eyes as Tongues & Teeth by The Crane Wives

It’s perfect. Look, I never got to listen to Bright Eyes’ storyline bc I found the channel after Erik already privated the videos, but from what I’ve read in a couple fics… I just feel like it fits perfectly. The self-hatred embedded in the lyrics, the knowledge that any love they can give will not be perfect or soft and will come with the guilt and trauma of what they brought onto Fred, Sam, and themself.

I’ve grown a mouth so sharp and cruel It's all that I can give to you, my dear And when you come in quick to steal a kiss My teeth will only cut your lips, my dear

Oh, I will ruin you Oh, I will ruin you It's a habit, I can't help it I know that you mean so well But I am not a vessel for your good intent

I will poison all your happy thoughts I will love you like the ashes in my cigarette box And if you're fine with that You can be mine

---------

Lasko as Why Am I Like This by Orla Gartland

The poor boy’s insecurities and struggling to make friends or talk to new people without thinking he’s fucking up constantly. The way he doubts if people actually want to be his friend. Also, his inability to relax and enjoy spending time with others because he’s hyper vigilant, staying on his toes to make sure he doesn’t do something to mess it up. It’s just the perfect song for him. I have a lot of feelings for this man, and I want to hug him.

Maybe I'm an old soul trapped in a young body, Maybe you don't really want me there at your birthday party, I'll be there in the corner thinking right over, Every single word of the conversation we just had.

Oh, it's like I'm looking down from the ceiling above, Never in the moment, never giving enough, Let's go out and shout the words we never said, I've got my mistakes on loop inside my head, inside my head

---------

Freelancer as doomsday by Lizzy McAlpine

Ok this one I feel like is less so the FL as a whole, and more of their “relationship” with Kody and his obvious abuse and inflicted trauma on them. The FL knowing that they can never make Kody regret what he did because he’s reasoned it out as being okay in his mind. That, and all of his actions thereafter never allowing them closure because he just blames them and doesn’t really let them explain that he hurt them (there’s just… some sort of fucked up desire to tell your gaslighter that they hurt you and make them acknowledge that it doesn’t matter whether or not they still justify their actions, but they hurt you regardless…. Yeah)

Doomsday is close at hand I'll book the marching band to play as you speak I'll feel like throwing up You'll sit and stare like a goddamn machine I'd like to plan out my part in this But you're such a narcissist You'll probably do it next week I don't get a choice in the matter Why would I? It's only the death of me

---------

Gavin as Deity by Valeree

On a much more lighthearted note!! I feel like this song is very good at encompassing the primarily incubus and sex-related side of Gavin and not as much his in-depth feelings, but yeah. I do feel like it’s very good for showing that Gavin ultimately loves what he does, bringing people pleasure and in many cases allowing them to feel the things they may hide from the world and/or themselves (ie, the dude in the 7/11 that Gavin let basically realize his sexuality for at least that moment).

Unrelated, but I love this man a lot.

I'll be your deity, fall to your knees Oh, honey, pray to me between the sheets, whoa Get down and start to confess Come into the church between my legs

Oh, I don't believe in a vengeful god No, I don't believe in punishing the sinner Unless punishment's the kind of love you want

Baby, praise me Make me your deity And I'll set you free

---------

Let me know if you guys liked this!! I’ll probably do more if I just happen to find songs that I feel like fit the characters well. I also hope my explanations aren’t too rambly haha. I just have a lot of feelings about the boys and their listeners.

[mediocrevideopodcast]

Trouvaille

Request: Hi there! If you don’t mind, could you do Headcanons for either the rottmnt boys or mud dogs with a reader /crush that has hazel eyes, since they mainly hangout during the night it looks like plain brown ( usually in the dark hazel eyes looks like brown eyes ) but for the first time they were able to meet up at daylight ( maybe stayed up until sunrise together, or went into a farm for a week vacation, idk are seeing the reader in sunlight for the first time ) and their eyes aren’t actually brown but hazel? Like way lighter, almost like a honey color with a tint of green? How could they react? Thank you and hope you have a good day!

[A/N: Thank you for letting me choose, anon!! <3 I’ll be doing all of the mud dogs, and I might throw in a turtle or two in another post!! I ended up writing a good amount for Leonard, so I’m posting his on his own, haha.]

Pairing: Loathsome Leonard/Reader 

Content Warnings: None!

Word Count: 825

Honestly, he always thought brown eyes on their own were fucking gorgeous. I mean, everyone in his family has brown eyes, all with various ranges of darkness. Brown eyes are so expressive and deep! 

But holy shit, you’re like the patron deity of beauty itself when he sees you in the light for the first time. His breath catches in his throat as he stops in his tracks, taking a moment to really look at you. His brows rise ever so slightly as he stares, breathing stilled and body frozen. You ask him if he’s okay and he blames it on being tired, but he’d give anything to stay like this forever. He finds another reason to fall in love with you every day, doesn’t he?

The morning wind is cold as it brushes by your legs, blowing the steam from your mug in every direction into thin, beautiful, translucent swirls. The wooden bench creaks as you swing back and forth: the lone sound in the bright orange field. Oversized deer and rabbits tread cautiously through the trees from miles away, and you smile softly to yourself. It’s like a scene out of a comic book, you think to yourself.

The city is gorgeous, sure, but nothing can compare to the raw beauty of the countryside. You sip at your drink lazily as you look over your surroundings. You’re only staying here to lay low, but you’ll miss it when you inevitably return to the city for “work.” Your legs ache, still exhausted from running so hard the day prior, but in a way that gives you a complete and utter respect for life. You pull your legs up onto the bench, curling further into your blanket as another gust of wind rushes by. 

You’re brought out of your thoughts by the sound of the plastic screen-door shuddering open. You look over your shoulder, smiling at the man exiting the small house. “Morning,” you say, turning back to the view. You pull your legs closer to yourself, making room for him. 

“Morning,” he replies, sitting down beside you. The bench creaks under his weight before settling, similar to the comfortable silence that settles over your company. The birds chirp and caw in the distance, and you sip at your drink once more. The heat is a calming contrast to the cold morning air, and it soothes the ache in your muscles pleasantly. Leonard rests his head in his hand, sipping at his coffee in your peripherals. He blinks the sleep from his eyes sluggishly, breaths slow and steady. He closes his eyes once more, sighing quietly as he leans further into his hand. He probably still aches from the heist, you muse. And considering how much he was pushing himself, it doesn’t seem too unlikely. 

You turn to him fully, resting your arm on the back of the swinging bench as you try to think of something to say. He’s so pretty in the morning, you think to yourself. Something about the mornings bring out the best in people, the rawest form of oneself. Or, maybe you’re just too deep in your crush to tease him about being so disheveled. 

“How are you feeling?” you murmur. 

He opens his eyes sluggishly, glancing at you from the corner of his vision. He blinks once… twice… and all of the sudden his eyebrows raise, eyes widening a fraction. His breathing slows and damn-near crawls to a halt as he gazes at you, although you don’t feel uncomfortable under his gaze. You look back calmly at first, smiling softly. Although after a few moments of silence, you feel that familiar heat start to spread across your face as your heart pounds a little faster, nervous. You swirl your drink around in your mug as you smile, this time more flustered. 

“Uh, earth to Len? You in there?” 

He blinks again, nodding his head and running his hand through his hair quickly. “Yeah, I’m fine, just tired. I’m sick of being tackled, man. I’m getting too old for this shit,” he jests. His hair bounces back into place quickly with the exception of a few strands, evidently still retaining the product from the day prior and you find yourself longing to push those locks back into place, to feel his head in your hands and his hair between your fingers. Oh, you’re getting far too sweet on this man. 

You smile and sip from your cup. “Amen to that. We should find a city where all the cops are like, halflings or something.” 

He snickers, shaking his head gently and rolling his eyes. “Yeah, let me know when you find a place like that, and we’ll fuckin’ move there.” 

You chuckle and look back out towards the horizon, this time with a smile. Today is a beautiful day, isn’t it? Oh, how nice it would be to spend the rest of your days here. 

“Nice eyes, by the way.”

[thearoacewriter]

so I was thinking about how lucky it was that Neil survived Baltimore and I thought it was kinda like someone put a protection charm on him bc Stuart showed up at the exact right time. then I was like “okay who out of all the foxes would be a witch?” and it hit me duh it would definitely be Andrew so here’s my pagan Andrew hc

It started with his interest in greek mythology. One of his foster homes had a massive library that caught his attention. Of course, he wasn’t there for long—  Andrew never stayed at a home for more than a few weeks— so, along with a volume of the collected works of Shakespeare, he stole a book on Greek and Roman mythology.

He got through that book relatively quickly and wanted to know more. At first, he wanted to read about more obscure Greek myths, but when he went to Barnes & Noble (because he would never steal from an independent bookstore) a book about Norse mythology caught his eye.

He read up on as many different mythologies as he could find. Once he moved in with the Spears, Cass bought him all the mythology books he wanted, though Andrew never asked for them. She’d noticed the couple of books he lugged around and decided to buy him some more. Andrew never said thank you, but Cass knew he appreciated them because, within days, there’d be a million tabs sticking out of them.

It all stopped once Andrew went away to Juvie. The library they had there was just sad. They had one book on Greek myth and it was all of the basics that Andrew had already read a million times over. 

Andrew hated his uncle as soon as he saw him. He hated Tilda even more. Tilda wasn’t really religious, but his uncle and aunt sure were. It was hard to piss off Tilda since she barely gave two shits about him, but he needed to take his anger out on someone. That left his aunt and uncle. They were the ones who put him in this situation in the first place. They were the ones who let Aaron stay here and get hurt. They were to blame for this as well.

Andrew didn’t believe in God. He never did. Not even when one of his first foster houses forced the kids to go to church every sunday. He was small and impressionable then, but the foster house before that one had made him lose any hope that there might be a God watching over him and keeping him safe. 

During his time reading about different deities, he found out that people still worshipped them. Pagans. Witches. Wiccans. They worked with and worshipped the old gods. That had caught Andrew’s attention, but he learned about it just before juvie so he never had a chance to look more into it.

Now he did. He knew being a witch would piss Luther off more than anything. Luther had been trying to lead Andrew down a spiritual path, but Andrew wasn’t having any of it. He looked into witchcraft, bought a bunch of books on it. He learned the basics first: protection spells, what different crystals did, the wheel of the year. He started to practice reading tarot cards and even got a pendulum.

Andrew was obnoxious about his practice around Luther and Maria. They told him that he could be saved if he converted, that witchcraft was the will of the Devil. Andrew told him what he learned about Lucifer as an entity and how he was completely different from the Devil. He told them that Pagan’s didn’t believe in hell. “How can I fear damnation if I don’t believe in it?”

The more he practiced the more he believed. His tarot reading came up right every single time. His spells started to work too. At first, it was just little things like luck for a test in school or motivation to finish an essay. He got more confident in his spells, using them to help the people he cared about more than on himself. He cast a luck spell on Nicky after he heard about what his parents were doing to him when they found out he was gay. Soon after, he went to study abroad in Germany. He found someone who helped him out of the hole he’d been in. 

Months past, Tilda was still hurting Aaron. Andrew had threatened her to keep his hands off him many times, but she wouldn’t listen. The plan took a little while to formulate, but once he was ready, he cast his first hex. It exhausted him. He felt like he’d played a full game of exy. Though he knew he had to keep going. He’d casted a protection spell on himself before the hex, but he needed an even stronger one if he was going to survive what he was about to do. 

He was tired, but determined. Aaron was pretending to be him somewhere else at the moment, so he had to pretend to be Aaron. He wasn’t worried that Tilda could tell the difference. They’d done this a few times before and Tilda never suspected a thing. 

The car crashed. Tilda died. Andrew lived, somewhat unscathed. 

Nicky came back from Germany when he heard. Andrew kept practicing. He celebrated the Sabbats, oftentimes Nicky would join him even though he was Christian. He didn’t want Andrew to have to celebrate alone. Sometimes, he’d even get Aaron to join in. 

When Kevin came into the picture, he started casting protection spells on him. He’d place crystals in his pockets to help with his arm and anxiety. He’d draw sigils in the back of Kevin’s notebooks. 

He put a hex on Riko the minute he found out he broke Kevin’s arm. Those worked well enough in the end.

He looked into truth spells once Neil Josten came to Palmetto, though he never used any of them. He’d never do a spell that took away anyone’s free will. Hermes, his patron, wouldn’t approve anyway. 

He missed Yule while he was at Easthaven. He couldn’t do anything for it besides meditate and try to communicate with his deities in astral. He was good enough at casting protection charms on himself without any materials, but not so good at astral projecting.

Once he got out, he placed some protection spells on Neil too. He didn’t want to admit it, but now that he was sober, he couldn’t blame the feelings he had for Neil on his meds. He wanted to keep Neil safe. It was part of their deal, sure, but he also did it to feel less like something was going to jump out and grab Neil at any second. 

He cleansed his dorm for Imbolc. Aaron and Nicky were used to Andrew spritzing rain water everywhere on the first of February. Kevin looked at him funny as he came out of his room, but didn’t say anything. Just like he didn’t say anything about the crystals and sigils. 

His tarot reading for Imbolc said he would open up more. He thought he’d read his cards wrong, but his clarifiers confirmed it. He thought it was bullshit until Eden’s. “That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t blow you.” It kept happening as Neil followed him to the roof more and more often. Then, they kissed. Andrew wanted Neil to push him away, to tell him no, but he wouldn’t. 

They kept messing around. Andrew kept slipping crystals into Neil’s pockets. He even made him a tiger’s eye keychain since Andrew knew Neil always had his keys on him. He knew how important keys were to Neil, so he knew he’d never lose them. 

That is until their match against the Bearcats. The riot after the game caused Andrew to go after Aaron and Kevin. He wanted to go after Neil first, but he remembered that they broke their deal. He forced himself to look away from Neil. He assured himself that Neil was safe. He had his tiger’s eye keychain. He had the protection spell Andrew always casts before they leave for away games.

Though, when they all got on the bus, Neil was nowhere to be found. He went back out and only came up with Neil’s duffle bag. He dug through it and found his keys tucked inside. Andrew started to panic, though he didn’t show it. He forced some answers out of Kevin and they were on their way to Baltimore. 

Andrew sat in his usual seat. He was the most fidgety he’d ever been since getting off his meds. He couldn’t cast any protection spells since he didn’t have the right supplies, but he did hold onto Neil’s tiger’s eye and prayed to Hermes to keep Neil safe. 

He didn’t quite understand what happened until Neil explained everything. The thing about magick was that it was unpredictable. When Andrew found out that Neil’s father was still alive, he wanted a way to keep him away from Neil permanently. He couldn’t find the right hex to use, so he tried to manifest his death instead. Manifestation is tricky. If you’re not extremely specific, there’s no telling how it’d play out. 

His protection spells had worked to an extent, it’s just that his manifestation worked more. Neil was saved at the last second by his uncle, but he still had major wounds. Nathan Wesninski was dead at least, though that didn’t stop Andrew from blaming himself for not being more thorough. 

After Neil’s arms healed a bit and after Neil started wearing the armbands Andrew got him, Andrew would draw protection sigils on his arms while they were sitting on the roof. They were covered during the day, most of the time Neil just sweated them off, but Neil swooned every time Andrew did it. It was a sign that he cared, truly cared, about Neil. 

Additionally, Sir is Andrew’s familiar. Don’t ask me why it’s not King because idk it’s just the vibe 

Also eventually Neil starts giving Andrew things he finds on his hikes because Neil’s a little goblin boy and he knows that Andrew could use some of the things in rituals or as offerings 

They also do a handfasting ritual on the Beltane after they get married. They got married mostly because Andrew didn’t want to have to fight with the nurses to let him see Neil if he got hurt or vice versa. Weddings don’t have value to Andrew, but handfasting rituals do, so they did one in this meadow they like to go to sometimes and had a picnic afterward

anyway I like projecting onto my favorite characters so thanks for letting me indulge i would very much like Andrew to celebrate the sabbats with me. I’m a kitchen witch, he likes sweets, it’s the perfect combination 

[foilfreak]

BEAUTY AND HER BEAST: Chapter 8

WARNING PLZ READ BEFORE CONTINUING: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

(AO3 Link Below:)

Several days had passed since Salvatore had sought out both his younger sisters, requesting items like jewelry or clothing they’d be willing to part with that Salvatore could gift to Nadine, as a sort of soft and informal introduction to ease the young woman’s mind and prove he meant her no harm.

The plan seems to be going rather well, as far as Salvatore can tell. Nadine found the gifts he’d laid out for her rather easily, and even correctly wondered if the person who lived here had left them for her purposefully. She seemed wary of the items for a time, though she seemed pretty wary of everything in the reservoir at the moment, but eventually she deemed them safe enough to accept, throwing the long white nightgown Salvatore had procured from Donna over her petit azure frame, and strapping the delicate golden locket Alcina had graciously donated around her neck.

Salvatore practically drooled when he first saw Nadine, slightly sheer satin nightgown flowing elegantly in the gentle afternoon breeze and golden chain glittering beautifully against her white speckled, ocean blue skin. She looked like a goddess, a true figure of pure ethereal power and beauty. Even the biting cold of winter wasn’t enough to touch the young woman, shielded and protected by her own glowing radiance.

Despite looking every bit like an other-worldly deity worthy of unending human devotion and worship, Nadine’s face held nothing but fear, anxiety, and loneliness as she aimlessly wandered the seemingly empty docks and windmills surrounding the reservior’s watery interior. An occasional dejected “hello?” still echoes out throughout the reservoir every few hours, growing less and less hopeful with each passing round of silence Salvatore spends hiding away from view.

The disfigured man’s heart twists and stabs in pain every time he cowers away from Nadine’s soft, anxious calls, desperately wanting to comfort the young woman in her moment of confusion and fear, but still so terrified of her inevitable reaction to his appearance that he finds himself unable to do anything but skitter shamefully to his room beneath the surface and try to drown her out with one of his old romance films.

How pitiful.

Salvatore spends much of his time lamenting and pitying himself over his soul crushing loneliness and his intense desire for a love of his own, and yet here he is, taking refuge in an old romance film while he hides himself away from the real woman he could be making his own romance film with, were he not a massive coward and a horrific freak of nature unworthy of anyone’s love and affection, of course. What a cruel irony it is, to have the one thing you want, more than anything else in the world, dangled just inches in front of your face, and yet knowing, before you’ve even tried, that it’ll never be yours.

Salvatore knows that no matter how much of a romance story this whole situation might seem like, Nadine will never be able to love him in the way the gorgeous women in the movies love their tall, dashing, dark-haired lover men. Not only was Salvatore the exact opposite of tall and dashing by literally everyone’s standards, but his patches of dry, greasy dark-hair did little to salvage the violent wreckage that was Salvatore’s whole appearance.

There was absolutely no way Nadine would ever be able to love someone as hideous as Salvatore, so perhaps the best thing to do would be to contact Miranda and inform her that, while he greatly enjoyed his gift, Salvatore didn’t feel he would be able to appreciate her in the way she deserved to be appreciated in all her beauty and wonder, and that perhaps it would be better for Mother Miranda to find better arrangements for her elsewhere.

“I-it’s for the b-best… i-i think… a-after all… Nadine… d-doesn’t want t-to live i-in a d-dingy place… l-like this for… for the r-rest of h-her… l-life… m-much less with… w-with someone l-like me… s-she’d hate th-that… im c-certain” Salvatore laments aloud, dipping his head downward as tears of painful realization and sorrowful acceptance pour down his face like waterfalls of lonely depression, already fully set on contacting Mother Miranda as soon as morning came.

“While it's very kind of you to keep my best interest in mind, I do think I am more than capable of making my own decisions regarding what’s the best place for me, thank you very much” a soft voice responded suddenly, causing Salvatore’s head to whip in the direction the sound was coming from in startled shock. “This place is a little rundown, sure, but the windmills still stand tall and the water is always just the right temperature, so I don’t think this would be the worst place to live, if I had to… so long as I wasn’t alone, at least.”

Even in the dimly lit area located at the end of the hallway, Nadine still looked so gorgeously stunning and elegant. It was incredible how she managed to sound so casual and yet look so ethereal.

In the brief moment before his panic set in, Salvatore couldn’t help but pause and marvel at the spot down the hall where the young woman stood, her gaze locked directly onto him and yet she showed no signs of having seen him. She even went as far as to begin moving about behind the large boards that blocked her from entering the room, clearly trying to get a better look at the room and, more importantly, the person she suspects is in it.

After a surprisingly large jump that launched Nadine all the way up to the ceiling, just narrowly avoiding hitting her head, Salvatore’s eyes grew wide and his mouth hung open in stupefied shock as the sight of Nadine, moving the way she was at the end of the hallway, brought to Salvatore’s mind a scene from one of his favorite romance films. In the particular scene Salvatore is thinking of, the actress’ character is an aspiring prima ballerina, and she’s having a brief moment of bonding with her fellow ballerina’s after a long, but successful performance. Dressed in a nightgown not too unlike the one Nadine is currently wearing, the ballerina is showing the others how to do other kinds of dance, like polka or Irish step dancing, but by the end of the scene the group of ballerinas are all merely jumping about the room excitedly, laughing and cheering while carelessly throwing themselves into the air, only to land gracefully back on their feet.

While not exactly the same obviously, the resemblance between Nadine and the absolutely stunning ballerina in the movie, in both silhouette and style of movement, was almost uncanny.

Stretched out as high as her short legs would allow, strong and gorgeously defined muscles flexed almost instinctually with every rapid twist, curl, bend, and jump of the young woman’s tiny body. Her lucious silhouette was only aided by the feminine aura of the long, sheer nightgown as it trailed after her with every movement. The delicate satin material caresses the sharp ridges of her muscular back and shoulders with the same tenderness and love as it does the weight of her breasts or the pillowy layer of protection atop her midsection. The lower half of the nightgown, cinched just below the breasts, twisted and jerked in whatever direction was necessary to keep up with the speed at which Nadine was fluttering and jumping about upon the tips of her toes. Her legs were hidden by the ferocious speed of her movements, but Salvatore did not need to see her legs to have some idea of what they were, or perhaps merely could be, capable of.

Whether or not Nadine was actually a ballerina herself, or if Salvatore’s delusions were merely that realistic now, the young woman appeared to move with nothing but effortless grace that hides the raw power and physical strength it takes to float as carelessly and as quickly as the young woman was, clearly growing more and more frustrated the longer her search failed to reveal what she was looking for.

Still paralyzed by the sudden presence of Nadine in his personal space, Salvatore could do nothing but hold his breath and hope that the light at the end of the hall didn’t reach far enough to reveal his presence in the room. The TV was still on, but the movie playing on it had finished running long ago, meaning the only thing being displayed now was a static filled screen that proved someone had been here at some point in time, but thankfully wasn’t a dead giveaway from the start.

“Helloooooooo… I heard someone talking on my way in, so I know that someone is down here. Please… just come out, ok… I won’t hurt you… honestly” the raven haired woman begs softly, her movements slowing a bit to allow more of her air to be used for speaking rather than jumping to look over beams over and over again.

Salvatore’s heart ached at Nadine’s desperate tone, knowing all too well what the mutant woman is going through right now, but trying his best to remain strong, since giving in means dooming this perfect young specimen to a life of bitter misery and unending terror, regardless of the best effort he’d try to put in. Whatever short term gain Nadine could get from being with him would only come back to bleed her dry once Salvatore was sufficiently attached, and therefore unable to allow her to leave once she inevitably decides that she’s had enough of pretending to love a disgusting freak of nature.

Salvatore had never been very good at accurately predicting the outcomes of situations, but he knew for certain that Nadine was in no way deserving of the hellish punishment that living in the reservoir with him would undoubtedly become, if it didn’t start out that way from the beginning, that is. Perhaps the young woman could convince herself to accept her situation and play into his affections as a means of survival for a short time, but based on what he’s heard of Nadine thus far, Salvatore doubts such a strongwilled and dangerous woman would allow herself to play wife and sex slave to anyone for very long. If she didn’t somehow successfully murder him in his sleep within the first 48 hours of her “slavery”, it would only be a matter of time before she finally ran out of patience and unleashed... whatever the hell it was she did back in the labs, upon him.

For a brief moment, Salvatore entertains the question of whether Nadine could potentially be strong enough to take him out with a single hit, as well as whether that thought should be something he finds arousing or not. His thoughts are quickly interrupted however, by the sound of shuffling and grunting, and upon turning his head toward the sudden racket, Salvatore is horrified to see Nadine, just small enough to fit her tiny body between the thin cracks of the boarded up wall, attempting to climb through the barrier, and enter the TV room.

Body shaking and voice beginning to tremble slightly, alongside his already labored breathing, Salvatore unsteadily backed his way further into the room, putting his hands out in front of him as if to try and stop Nadine from entering, though he makes no move to physically eject the invading woman himself, oddly enough.

“N-nooo… p-please… don’t come i-in...” Salvatore stutters helplessly, shrinking further in on himself in fear as the young woman effortlessly slips through the wooden boards like a slippery eel, quickly and easily landing on her feet before turning back to the mostly darkened room.

“H-Hello?” Nadine calls out again nervously, taking a tentative step forward, both hands extended outward beside her until her left hand made contact with the wall. Gaining some purchase on the vertical slabs of wood, Nadine slowly turns her head to look about the room, carefully inspecting everything from atop the surface of Salvatore’s messy desk, to the very dark corner in the back right of the room that Salvatore himself was currently shoved as far into as physically possible.

Nadine stuck her arm out in front of her and began slowly walking toward the opposite wall, eyes open, but unfocused, and right hand waving aimlessly in the air for a brief moment, as though trying to feel around for the other wall despite it clearly being right in front of her. The hooded man had no idea how she hadn’t seen him yet, he could practically feel how absolutely ridiculous he looked, his bony, weathered, turtle-esque body hunched as low to the ground as possible with his chin tucked between his knees and hands covering the rest of his face, leaving only the smallest bit of space through which he could observe Nadine’s inevitable reaction to him. And yet, despite the amount of time the young woman spent glancing over Salvatore, back and forth across the room, her bright golden eyes resembling that of a ravenous alligator in their intensity and ferociousness, no scream left her plush lips nor did fear and horror suddenly mar her supple face. In fact, not only had the mutant woman not seen him yet, but it was in that exact moment that the reason why Nadine couldn’t see Salvatore, obviously shoved into the corner, just to her bottom left, became immediately clear to him.

“Y-You’re blind...”

[transandor]

Imagine they trap the dreamon in pandoras box and dream is the deity of the overworld so his body requires light to exist and its pitch black and a few months later they open it up because idk and there's just the dreamon there whos like pitch blackbird several eyes and he escapes and laughs at everyone for not realizing an just causes chaos and no can get close because its been freed of its cage and let into the world, crumb sees this and gets Dream but knows its not enough so she gets the Captain and it breaks so many rules and he can't be there long but he's there and they go toward church prime and Dream has destroyed the dreamon but in turn is dying becuase his physical body doesn't exist and he's weak because of how long he's been without sunlight and Captain gets there as Dream collapses and people try and grab him but just a thundering voice rings out "Don't touch him!" and they clear a path becuase holy shit what the fuck and Dream sees the captain and reaches toward him "Captain" and the captain just tightly holds his boy who's pain the irrational part of his brain will always blame on the people there and brokenly whispers out "Hello Duckling", tubbo gets his memories back because he recognizes that Red coat, dark sunglasses cracked on the ground next to him, and duckling, and the first thing he sees when he is himself is his brother dying in their fathers arms and crumb yowling loudly enough that windows are cracking and he screams at the sight and Tommy has to catch him as his legs give out and no one can get to close because crumbs heating up the walls, and everything is cracking because this is the Deity of the overwould, which dosent exist without him, and both Captain and Dream are whispering apologizes, becuase dreams losing his voice and captains afraid that if tries to be louder he'll break something in his grief, and Dreams eyes flick toward tommy who looks shocked and confused and whispers out "I'm so sorry Tom" and Tommy recognizes that, dream had called him that when he'd get on his nerves before the disc war, always a joke and said while laughing, and he hasn't heard that in so long, and he realizes that the thing that had done all of this wasn't dream and he collapses too

I am not done but I am running out of energy i will return

-✨

girl HELP i’m CRYING

[princessamericachavez]

Fjorester moments episode 65

Can you believe I was already resigned to this being a small post with just cute little highlights for this week and then that last hour happened?!

I’m guilty of doubting Travis and Laura would feed me so well two weeks in a row. 

Honestly, it’s been mostly Travis who’s been pushing for it the most lately and I for one LOVE this switch in the dynamic.

Okay, so let’s dive in (heh, get it?):

[As soon as danger shows up]

Jester: I cast bless.

Matt: On who?

Jester (immediately): On Fjord... Caduceus, and Yasha.

The last two she has to think about but Fjord? Fjord is a no-brainer. They are always each other’s first priority, after all.

FJORD AND JESTER BEING A POWER COUPLE AND NEARLY TAKING OUT A MONSTER ALL ON THEIR OWN BEFORE THE FIGHT EVEN STARS

Jester: *down and being attacked by a monster*

Fjord: *casts Charm Monster on the monster attacking her and the one attacking Beau*

Matt: Okay, so the first one’s save fails.

Travis immediately: Which one? The one attacking Jester?

LIKE, I SEE YOU. I SEE YOU TRYING TO BE SNEAKY AND MAKING SURE THAT WHATEVER HAPPENS THE EFFECTIVE ONE GOES TO HER BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT FJORD’S MAIN PRIORITY IS. I SEE YOU.

[After the fight]

BOTH OF THEM CHEERING BEAU UP TOGETHER

Fjord: *asks for a short rest*

Beau and Caleb: reluctantly agree

Jester: But we only got a certain amount of-

Fjord:

Jester: Okay, yeah.

Fjord:

SHE’S SO WEEK FOR HIM GUYSSS AND HE  KNOWSSS IT

THIS IS LIKE THAT “NO YOU WON’T, YOU LOVE ME”

HE’S SO FREAKING SMUG ABOUT IT AND I LOVE IT

NO PLAYING DUMB ANYMORE FOR HIM NO SIR

[As they ride]

Yarnball: strays away from the group

Fjord: What is your fucking animal doing?!

Jester: On that! On that! On that!

Jester: *casts command to send Yarnball back to the group*

Fjord: Oh! Slick!

I LOVE THIS TREND OF JESTER DOING SOMETHING BADASS AND FJORD BEING OBVIOUSLY TURNED ON BY IT

Matt: The rain now in heavy sheets, sipping into every piece of armor and clothing you have.

Travis: who knows Fjord is riding with Jester, holding tightly to her in their fast pace

POWER COUPLE AGAIN TO GET RID OF THE SECOND WAVE OF BIRDS ATTACKING THEM

LOOK AT THOSE TWO POWERFUL BABES THEY ARE UNSTOPPABLE

[While bedding down next to the so-far ominous Melora giant tree]

Nott: Should I go scout while we are waiting?

Jester: No!

Nott: It’s a hundred feet! I can just turn invisible and go-

Fjord: She said no! Jeez.

WE LOVE ONE SUPPORTIVE BOYFRIEND WHO WON’T HAVE HIS GIRL DISRESPECTED OR IGNORED BECAUSE HER VOICE AND INPUT MEAN THE WORLD TO HIM AND HE ALWAYS LISTENS TO THEM AND WHY CAN’T YOU ALL SEE HOW GREAT SHE IS, LISTEN TO HER DAMMIT. 

idk why that little detail was so heavy for me but I loved it. Nott can be rather pushy and accidentally barrel over anyone’s opinion that isn’t Caleb’s, and Jester is generally nice about it and let’s it go (except that time that the teasing got to her) so Fjord standing up for her firmly made my heart soar a little ngl

[THE TREE BIT]

Fjord: *ready to climb a 300 ft tall tree*

Jester: *obviously worried*

Jester: Climbing is good for strong people, right? Strong people climb well?

Fjord: Or people who, if they fall, have a good safety net.

THIS BIT WAS ALREADY NICE BUT GIVEN WHAT COMES NEXT IT’S SUCH NICE FORESHADOWING?

Like, listen, okay? Fjord is clearly talking about himself falling and saving himself, he probably had the thunderstep in mind already.

But Jester? Jester hears this and immediately sees herself as the safety net. So she stays down, ready to catch whoever might fall.

Later, though, Caduceus suggests she go up and she seems a little put off by it, because she clearly wants to but also wants to be there to protect her friends. Eventually, though, she follows up.

FJORD’S IMPRESSED FACE WHEN JESTER CATCHES UP TO HIM

MATT DESCRIBING THEIR CLIMB “GOING NECK TO NECK, EVEN GETTING A LITTLE COMPETITIVE” IS SUCH A WONDERFUL VISUAL

THIS TWO BEST FRIENDS, ON TOP OF THE WORLD, GOOFING AROUND WITH EACH OTHER, CLIMBING TOGETHER

And then

Of course

that natural one

and Fjord just leaps after her

Travis: I push off and dive down after her!

Matt:

Laura:

Everyone:

LISTEN THOUGH THE IMAGE OF BOTH OF THEM FALLING DOWN AND REACHING OUT FOR EACH OTHER MID-AIR IS OOF

IT’S SO ROMANTIC AND TRAGIC AND DRAMATIC

THIS MAN, THIS SAILOR WHO LESS THAN A YEAR AGO LIVED A FAIRLY ORDINARY LIFE, PLUMMETING DOWN AFTER THE GIRL SHE MET SO LONG AGO WHO HAS BECOME HIS SOURCE OF SUNLIGHT IN LIFE, WITHOUT AN INCH OF FEAR OR HESITATION, LASER FOCUSED ON REACHING HER IN TIME

And then that Feather Fall comes into play and slows them down just enough for them to hold on to each other, floating slowly in the air, breathing heavily.

And I legit thought that was it, that they would slowly float down and recover from the scare.

But nope. No. Fjord goes for his initial plan and thundersteps them back up.

And I kinda love that? Because, no, they are not giving up. They are going together and reaching their goal and they are doing it together because they always go with each other.

Jester: Fjord!

SHE LOOKS SO WORRIED. SO CONCERNED. BECAUSE HE JUST JUMPED AFTER HER AND HE COULD’VE DIED AND WHY DID HE DO THAT? WHAT WAS HE THINKING???

BUT FJORD JUST BRUSHES IT OFF

Fjord: Hang on, will ya?

AS IF HE HADN’T JUST DIVED 100 ft DOWN JUST TO SAVE HER

CASUAL

WHATEVER

JUST NORMAL FRIEND STUFF

Jester: You-

JESTER JUST KINDA STUMBLES OVER HER BREATH AND LIKE I DON’T BLAME HER OK?

I actually love that Jester was getting used to the idea that romance and love are not like in her novels, and maybe it’s fine and she will never find that dramatic over the top romance she dreamed off her whole life 

—AND FJORD SWEEPS IN WITH EXACTLY THE BRAND OF ROMANTIC DUMBASS GESTURES THAT A GRAND HERO WOULD PULL

And Jester is tired and scared and feels like she can’t go on

Jester:

Jester: I’m just gonna stay here, Fjord! You keep going. It’s okay!

BUT FJORD IS NOT ABOUT TO LEAVE JESTER BEHIND

Fjord: You know, if you get up to me, I can help us get a little boost!

Jester: I can’t move! It’s okay, you just keep going!!

POOR BBY. BUT FJORD IS STILL NOT ABOUT TO LEAVE HER, SO THE NEXT TIME THEY ROLL HE WAITS FOR HER TO CATCH UP.

Fjord: You want a boost?

Jester: 

Fjord: Okay, grab my hand.

Jester: 

THUNDERSTEP

SO MUCH HAND HOLDING GUYS

AS SOON AS FJORD BROKE THE TOUCH BARRIER WITH THE KISS LAST EPISODE HE’S JUST GOING ALL IN FOR IT AND WE ARE GETTING SO MUCH AND IT’S JUST SO LOVELY

ALSO ALSO ISN’T IT SUCH A LOVELY PARALLEL THAT AT THE BEGINNING THEY WERE BEING PLAYFULLY COMPETITIVE BUT AS SOON AS JESTER IS HAVING TROUBLE FJORD’S FOCUS SWITCHES ENTIRELY AND HE SPENDS THE REST OF THE TIME ENCOURAGING HER AND HELPING HER?????

Thanks Matt for the last bit of description too! Fjord with his 11 STR throwing Jester up to safety is such a good detail!

That NAT 20 was True Love and you can’t convince me otherwise.

I ALSO LOVE HOW THE TABLES TURN LATER WHEN FJORD FREEZES WHEN STEALTHTING AROUND THE ROC

Fjord: you go ahead without me!

Jester: No, Fjord, you’re coming!

Fjord: I’ll just stay here

Jester: C’mon, Fjord, let’s go!

Fjord: Alright.

THEY REFUSE TO LEAVE EACH OTHER BEHIND YOU GUYS IM SO EMOTIONAL

ALSO

GUYS

MATT DESCRIBING THE WARM SENSATION FJORD GOT FROM SAVING JESTER VS HIS USUAL UK’OTOA SPELLS?

THE FACT THAT HE USED HIS VERY FIRST SPELLS POWERED BY A LOVING DEITY RATHER THAN UK’OTOA TO SAVE HER

IS JUST SO

POETIC CINEMA

I’M CRYING

Jester: *tries to pain Beau and Fjord*

THIS TWO DISASTERS IMMEDIATELY: 

Jester: No, it’s candid, you guys! Pretend you don’t know I’m drawing you.

Fjord:

Jester: Yeah, that’s better. That’s good.

EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS EPISODE WAS WONDEREFUL. MY HEART FEELS SO FULL WITH LOVE. I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE FANART AND THE EVENTUAL TALK THESE TWO DESPERATELY NEED TO HAVE ALREADY. 

I’m looking forward to so much next week! Fjord is out of spell slots (after saving and helping Jester) so I expect she’ll prioritize keeping him safe during the fight. So much angst potential! ALSO really looking forward to Jester thanking him for saving her, fingers cross for a cheek kiss to mirror his earlier one. Also, please Traveler, they need to TALK about all these things that they keep doing for each other.

[goron-king-darunia]

Annon-Guy: Finale - 1. Why was Richter surprised that Marta said "Courage is the magic that turns dreams into reality"? I know Richter learned it from Aster and taught Emil it, but still. 2. How come Marta and the others still care and look out for Ratatosk despite killing Aster? Marta still loves him because he's a part of Emil as they're the same person.

1. I figure Richter was surprised because he hadn’t expected the phrase to catch on or mean anything to Marta. For Richter, that was always something between him and Aster, and he only taught it to Emil because he thought it was something Emil needed to hear. I guess he didn’t expect it to be something meaningful to anyone except people like him, like Aster, like Emil.  2. I’m sure a lot of why everyone sticks with Emil is 1) The side of Ratatosk that IS Emil clearly feels bad about what he did to Aster and WANTS to be good, and Ratatosk, while he’s reluctant to outright say it because he’s a dope that doesn’t talk about feelings, also seems to feel bad even though he felt justified in attacking Aster at the time. 2) Emil and Ratatosk are a summon spirit, an entity necessary to the balance of the world, the closest tangible thing the world has to gods. There are people of many different religions who worship gods that did some pretty terrible things. So I’m sure part of it is some sort of “Emil/Ratatosk did something bad, but he’s necessary for the world to be healthy so we can’t blame him too much since we really need his help. But I’m sure the part the game wants us to focus on is that, on top of changing and wanting to be better and make amends for killing Aster, something he obviously regrets, the party, especially Marta, understands that part of the reason Ratatosk lashed out at all was because of what happened to his tree.  So it’s some combination of those factors. Kind of like I might forgive Richter for trying to stab Marta. From Richter’s perspective, he’s avenging Aster and preventing a minor deity from committing a genocide he is perfectly capable of enacting. Like, I want to punch Richter because “Dude this is not how you deal with trauma and if you have genuine concerns you should ASK FOR HELP and not try to do it on your own and/or manipulate people!” But I understand why he did what he did and I think if he worked hard afterward to make up for what he did, I could forgive his actions in the game. Similarly, if we understand Ratatosk’s perspective, how he's lashing out because he’s afraid, upset, in pain, and just wanted to be alone to grieve after he just woke up and some uppity mortals show up, don’t treat him with any respect, make demands, and then get in his face about how “actually, the creatures that killed your tree are very important” it gets easier to forgive the unforgivable. Killing Aster, also, was only one action. A crime of passion. What Richter did was a series of mistakes. He dug himself a hole and instead of asking for help he just kept fucking digging whereas Ratatosk, apart from being just a little too trigger happy and having a temper, really only did the one bad thing. Like, honestly, this entire game is a massive case of “people who were hurt tend to hurt other people.” Like, both of these boys need therapy and a hug but also some spanking because like... they clearly don’t know how to process trauma. So like, on the one hand, yes, both these boys deserve forgiveness and happiness and Emil unconditionally supporting Richter is definitely something Richter needs even if he doesn’t “deserve” it for everything he did in the Vanguard. Similarly, Marta’s unconditional support of Emil and Ratatosk is definitely something they both need even if Ratatosk might not deserve it for squishing Aster like a bug to make a point. On the other hand, both these boys have serious issues and as much as I like to “solve” Richter’s trauma by shipping him with Emil, Richter and Emil should, ideally, have some sort of therapy and prison sentence because like... they’re directly or indirectly responsible for people losing their lives and that not having a consequence, as much as I don’t WANT it to have consequences, is kind of shitty for the families people that died. If Brute and Marta are going to take responsibility, Richter and Emil/Ratatosk should too. Unless they all get freedom in which case unrealistic but it’s better than Brute doing jail time, Marta getting community service, Richter being stuck in the Ginnungagap for 1000 years/his whole life depending on how Ratatosk deals with Richter aging, and Emil doing whatever he ends up doing with Marta. Like, IDK, I feel like they all deserve happiness, despite what they did, but, like. That’s not how the justice system works so... IDK, the game does a REALLY good job of making EVERYONE the victim, and you just can’t help but woobify them because the circumstances they had life deal to them are just terrible and they didn’t deserve anything that happened to them. Ratatosk didn’t deserve to lose his tree, Richter didn’t deserve to lose Aster, Aster didn’t deserve to die while trying to help the world, Emil didn’t deserve to come into being to pay for Ratatosk’s mistakes, Marta didn’t deserve to be part of the Vanguard and watch her dad slowly go insane after she just lost her mom, Brute didn’t deserve to be manipulated into a militant organization’s leader. Everyone in the game got dealt a shitty hand in life and they all suffered because of it and because they suffered, they inevitably caused harm to others. IDK, if there are real gods in the Symphonia universe, not just the Spirits and not just “Martel” but, like, actual gods that influence the events on Aselia? They need to be slapped. “What if we just give these guys unresolved trauma on purpose?” is, like, great from a narrative’s perspective but it’s so fucking cruel and I’m still mad at the writers for hurting my boy Richter like they did and then continuing to hurt him in Rays. But I have to admit, I probably wouldn’t like Richter as much if he wasn’t damaged. 

[up-among-the-stars]

Cycle 307

The five times Kaizo forgets his birthday, and the one time he doesn’t.

i.

Kaizo is sixteen when he first forgets.

Granted, he forgets a lot of things these days, but none of which he actually means to. He's taking his time with the mask, and while the side-effects aren't disabling, they're not exactly productive, either. It's annoying, how the memories he wants buried stay vividly clear, but Imus forbid he remember his own naming day.

So when his grandfather walks in the training room, a whole shift early and wondering why he hasn't started cleaning up, his first response is a very eloquent, "What?"

The general stares at him. "We're going to the plaza."

"...why?"

"It's your naming day," the man says with a slight frown, watching as Kaizo blinks in realization.

"Oh. Right."

"You forgot." It's not a question.

Kaizo hums, looking back at the sentinel he's pinning on the wall. He releases his hold and ends the simulation with a quick command, idly watching the bot sink back to the floor. He can still feel his grandfather watching him, but he honestly doesn't know what to say.

It was his choice to keep the mask, and the consequences were something he just had to live with.

He settles with a simple, "It's a work in progress."

Kaizo meets his grandfather's eyes, lets the other search his face for a few moments, and waits. His mouth quirks upward when he gets a small nod, knowing that the general has seen his resolve. Out of habit, he does a quick salute, before heading off to his room for a quick shower.

Training can wait; for now, he has a celebration to attend.

ii.

There are... things outside his room.

Kaizo is barely back from his latest mission when he spots the colorful mess in the hallway. He was gone for a couple of lunar cycles to patrol the Latsyrk quadrants, having picked up a couple of frequencies that belonged to powerspheres.

He'd managed to collect five of them before deciding to head home, which is how he finds himself in this current situation.

Frowning at the storage blocks scattered at his doorway, Kaizo wonders if someone dropped them, before pushing the thought away. Everyone in the East Wing knows where his room is, if only to avoid it. He's not the... kindest of people, especially after long-term missions. He blames Bora Ra for that one.

Upon closer inspection, he notices one that looks like Maya's. Bronze has always been the mechanic's color, so he picks that one up, half convinced that it's safe. If anything ever happens to him, he can always drop by her shop for an unannounced visit.

He's turning the cube over when he notices the storage date, then everything clicks.

Oh, Kaizo thinks. It was my naming day.

He hadn't really been paying attention to the date recently, but he supposed those close to him still did. Pressing the release button, Kaizo steps back just in time to catch a metallic blue slab, sleek sides tapered off to a handle.

He shifts to hold it properly and watches as it morphs around his arm to form an ion blaster.

Maya really doesn't hold back, Kaizo thinks, smirking at the possibilities for his next mission. The sword may be his preferred medium, but even he wouldn't refuse something with twice the power. He shuts it down before grabbing the other blocks still at his feet, wondering what the others got him as he finally enters his room.

iii

He's still bleeding.

Kaizo pants as he stares at the wound on his side. With a grunt, he lets his head thunk back on the tree behind him and tries to catch his breath, fairly content with being idle for the first time in two cycles. He knows Lahap enough to assume that the lieutenant has kept the data chip safe, so for now, he has only one problem.

He counts to ten before trying again.

"Xek'trs," Kaizo hisses, voice sharp in his mother tongue as he presses his activated sword against his side. It's one of the messier ways to deal with his injuries, but the wound has been bleeding enough to make him worried. He'll have to clean up better once they get out of the system.

It's after the fourth try that he finally manages to cauterize the cut successfully.

Damn Iaku and their traps, he thinks darkly, remembering how their target had worked with bounty hunters. It's not every day that they went to a mission with half the specs they needed, but this one happened to be more of a surprise than the captain was expecting.

Absentmindedly, he thinks how bad of a surprise it was.

He doesn't exactly remember the day.

iv.

There's a missed call, and from a direct line.

Kaizo narrows his eyes at the yellow triangle blinking on the screen. There are three options: either he's been found out, his planet is under attack, or it's a really important tip that he's been waiting for from the few contacts he has.

Whichever it is, he's going to have to call back.

Pulling up a few lines of code, Kaizo sets a frequency. The holographic display lights up a few moments later, and on it is -

"Aeron?"

From the screen, a guy visibly lights up as he signs a greeting. Kaizo offers a quick smile, before asking, "What's with the call?" He watches as the other signs, brows raising with the speed and every cut-off sentence as the man on the other line turns more sheepish.

"A," Kaizo interrupts after the fifth attempt is waved off, "As funny as this is, can you at least tell me if there's a problem?"

Aeron freezes mid-motion, before slowly signing, 'no.'

"Okay." Kaizo blinks. "Why'd you call, then?"

"He wanted to greet you, idiot."

Kaizo can't help the smirk that makes its way on his face at the reply. "Still ratting people out, greaser?" he asks, waving off Aeron's panic at Maya's sudden comment, "Same as always, I see." There's a snort, and Kaizo can practically hear the eyeroll in her reply.

"So are you. You would've forgotten your naming day if A hadn't called."

"Fair enough."

v.

"Captain?"

"Yes?"

"Do you... think we could visit home?"

Kaizo looks up to see Fang staring at the ground, hands fiddling with his gloves. It's a little amusing how nervous his brother still gets around him, though it's not surprising, with all that he's done. He's not exactly the best sibling in the world.

Although -

"I don't see why not," he says, tilting his head at how the other seems to perk up at that. "Something important?"

Fang blinks at his question, before looking away and mumbling, "Sort of."

Interesting.

-

If he's going to be honest, the last thing Kaizo expected Fang to be worried about was his naming day celebration.

Their parents had been surprised, to say at least, but so was he when Fang pressed to have the trip in a cycle. Kaizo watches as his brother talks animatedly with their parents, telling them about adventures he had with his friends.

It's... nice, seeing them again.

Though it's not something I can always afford, Kaizo thinks.

He stares at his soup as he takes another sip.

(+ i.)

So, the kids know when his naming day is.

But did they really have to do this? Kaizo thinks, three parts amused as he stares down at the pile of... presents outside his ship's control room. The other fourth of him is feeling an odd sense of déjà vu, but that's mostly ignored for the shocked look on his lieutenant's face.

"Lahap," he says, startling the other to attention, "You start the ship."

The lieutenant makes a face. "Captain?"

"I'll deal with it," he replies, crouching to pick up the a-little-too-bright bundle. Color-coded, he assumes, eyes automatically finding his brother's gift, as well as Boboiboy's. There are three green packages, though, so he assumes that the twins were in this, too.

Really, what is it with people and naming days.

a bunch of important notes (read: headcanons) for those who are confused:

- i have this headcanon that kaizo’s grandfather is a general??? idk, it sounded pretty cool, and kaizo had to get his military background from someone

- another headcanon: kaizo’s mask is an incomplete weapon, kind of like a prototype, so sometimes it messes with his brain and makes him forget things

- birthdays are called naming days in their planet (as features in another fic of mine).

- edit because i forgot ajjsjahs: Imus is one of their planet’s three major deities 

- when he’s not at home, kaizo stays in the garrison. his room is in the east wing.

- Latsyrk quadrants: a bunch of quadrants opposite from the one that has kaizo’s planet.

-  Xek'trs: made up curse word because i want kaizo and fang to speak alien languages!!! or something, just let them have a mother language, please.

- Iaku: another made up thing, but now an alien race. they’re known for hunting, hence the traps.

- maya and aeron are my ocs!!! read more about them here. 

- ps. i know very little about interstellar communication omg, im sorry sdjfhsdak

- the kids would totally give the captain gifts, if they found out about his birthday. they’d throw him a party, but they’re not close enough, and most of them can see that kaizo isn’t one for huge celebrations.

- gifts the kids probably gave: tea (from boboiboy, and yes, he asked fang to help), a cupcake (from yaya, bUT DON’T WORRY, THE OTHERS HELPED), a pin (from ying, and it definitely says ‘rebel’), a glass figurine (it’s kaizo’s sword, gopal didn’t know what to give but his friends kept bothering him, give him a break), new gloves (from fang, because kaizo actually goes through them pretty quickly), and alien tech (sai gave him the latest comm link in the market, and shielda gave him a holopad, also the latest in the market)

a/n: i feel very conflicted about this because i feel like i haven’t shown my view of kaizo as well as i wished??? but thats because too much of what i have are headcanons and i cant write well enough without making you guys confused??? anyway, this doesnt look like it fits the theme much either, but hear me out: the thing that makes it not-so-happy is that kaizo doesnt really care for his naming day. it - it would’ve made sense had i published my first entry for kaizo week, but then it would need more explaining and its 1 am and i need to sleep. bUT ANYWAY, i hope u guys at least enjoyed the fic skdjfhjksa

[thatcrazygloryfan]

So one of your artworks kinda inspired me and… With some help from an odd dream the other night, I present to you my effort at a QZGS fanfic (though this is more of a oneshot?) I don’t use tumblr or any fanfiction sites, so I guess this would be the best way to send it. (with my

really 

old askblog, at that.. It’s.. It’s embarrassing, I know.)  I told myself not to do this but I did it anyways so now that essay is just gonna have to be incomplete just a little bit longer. (I didn’t want to do it anyways :’) so I guess this saved me…) Here are my potato writing skills portraying my own potato idea. I’ll try and keep this short… ———————————————— 

Never Abandoned

————————————————  Silver flakes drifted down from a cloud-colored sky as the ever-silent, now-exiled Battle God stepped out onto the cold streets that criss-crossed the city, intertwining between the many lit buildings as if it were an intricate, delicate spiderweb. He gently pulled at his coat as he turned away from the brightly glowing headquarters of Excellent Era, the crimson glow of the leaf-shaped emblem bringing thoughts that he would rather be without. He walked. Striding through the winter was certainly taxing on him, since the frigid cold bit at his exposed skin, and the only clothing he owned were the ones on his back. A faint jingling came from his pocket, due to the account card that still rested there.  Continuing through the city, enveloped by the artificial light of the lamps and signs, he picked up his pace and made it to the oceanside. Reflecting off the dark waters were the brilliance of the landscape behind him, twinkling and shining as if they were man-made stars. A sigh escaped his mouth as he contemplated the circumstances of less than an hour ago. The shaking of his hand. The cold voices of his former teammates. The tone of the one who had uprooted his authority and made his own hand sign his name upon a sheet of paper that would strip away his passion and living for an entire year.  A mist escaped with his breath and floated into the air, and disappeared like a vapor in the wind. The god’s gaze darted around, looking at the empty streets, devoid of activity. It was only him, several lone lampposts, unoccupied benches, and the cobblestone sidewalk below. No.. It wasn’t completely empty. There was a single individual standing a short distance away, their shadow illuminated by the pale, ivory-colored glow of the wrought-iron street lamps. His eyes narrowed ever-so slightly, the details jumping out at him.  Clothed in a long black coat ornamented with sharply outlined contrasts of angular golden trims and patterns, the silent figure stood there alone, much like himself. The only thing that stood against the ebony color of their entire vestment was the scarlet cape that hung from their shoulders, bearing a single, brassed tassel at the end. They looked.. Familiar.

Too familiar.

Driven by his curiosity, Ye Xiu, otherwise known as Ye Qiu, stepped forward. His single step rang out against the muted hustle and bustle of the night city, seeming abnormally loud when compared to the dimmed sounds of chatter, machinery, and the softly sloshing waves of the nearby sea. Within only a few strides, he had approached this mysterious silhouette, and he was about to say something, had they not turned around first. Staring back at him was.. Almost the spitting image of himself. Except he knew it wasn’t. He was very familiar with this person- his companion for the last ten years of Glory, where he had basked in fame, reverence, mystery, and the wild cheers of his supporters.  A light breeze tossed the wine-colored cloak that was draped across their back, causing it to snap and furl in the chilling air. But the individual.. The same facial structure and blank look, their only difference in that aspect was the eerily empty eyes of the being who he knew was his avatar. Had he hit his head too hard when he left the Excellent Era building, only to completely forget about it? Or had the shock of the events warped his mind to the point he was hallucinating him? One Autumn Leaf could not, and would not have been standing before him. Sun Xiang owned him now, didn’t he? The thought raced through his head as Ye Xiu stumbled backwards a single step, slightly taken aback by the sight. “It’s me.” The voice that rang out was identical to his own, except that it lacked almost all emotion, except for the barest hint of hurt. And for some reason, that slight, almost nonexistent touch to the sound of his otherwise-steady voice struck him to the core. “…One Autumn Leaf. Ye Qiu, have you already forgotten about me?”  “…No, I..” He was surprised, blinking a few times before this manifestation of what was formerly just a construct of pixels. Within a moment, Ye Xiu steadied himself and looked eye-to-eye with the Battle Mage, who stood as still and unmoving as he did in Glory. “Come on, it can’t be you.” The player tried to laugh off the situation, keeping the nervousness out of his tone. “I.. Maybe I whiffed something on my way here, and you’ll just disappear-“ Clamping down on the retired gamer’s shoulder within the next instant was a firm hand, steady and still from the years of finely tuned practice with a heavy spear. “I’m very much real.” The supposedly imaginary being answered, his gaze still unbroken. “…I understand the circumstances in which I was handed over to a little brat, whose first action was to try and tarnish my hair. I do not blame you and I hold you in no contempt.” “Ah.. Suppose I’m really not imagining all this, and you are indeed corporeal..” Ye Xiu touched the avatar’s outreached arm, indeed feeling the cold, dark metal and the absolute solidness of his form. Yep, he was real alright. “..How are you here? Why did you come to find me?” “Glory cannot hold me when I have enough drive in me to shatter an invisible barrier.” That was the response given by One Autumn Leaf, who retracted his hand as to not threaten his former master. “And I came here to find you because I could not stand to see you leave. For ten long years, you have been at my side. And I am not so willing to go.” “I handed you off. Your new owner is Su-“ The banished deity of Glory began, but was cut off by the character stretching out his other hand, clasping something in between his fingers. A Glory account card. “This rightfully belongs to you.” He said, and Ye Xiu was taken aback for the second time, staring at the object. Shined, black and gold much like One Autumn Leaf himself, with the word Glory emblazoned on the front, embraced by a pair of segmented wings and crossed with dual blades. For a moment, Ye Xiu had to contemplate just how flipping weird it must have been for an avatar to hold such an item- wouldn’t that be handing over their own, beating heart to someone? Or on an even more extreme spectrum, their very soul? The essence of who they were, that represented all of them, and sustained their existence? The thought was so strange that even he had to shove it aside, his shaky right hand reaching out to accept the card. As his pale fingers grazed the smooth surface of the card that he had been forced to surrender a mere hour ago, he looked up at One Autumn Leaf, who now bore a faint smile upon his previously expressionless features. “Don’t leave me, Ye Qiu. You are still my master. Take me back to the battlefield.” He dropped his arm once the Glory card was safely given back to the gamer. “I could not bear to leave, even if I were forced. Sun Xiang is not you.” The dark-haired, exiled professional looked up to the avatar in silence before nodding, unable to help but crack a slight grin of his own. “…I’m glad, then.” The feeling of the simple object in his hand.. It was possibly the most thrilling, exhilarating flood of emotion he had experienced since his first official tournament. The excitement, the adrenaline, and the sheer joy all came rushing back like a tsunami. He looked out at the still-glowing city landscape, coruscating with the resplendent shine of the modern world.  Somehow, his mind almost seemed to be synced with the near-identical individual besides him, who had been his representation on a stage that met and drew the eyes of millions. Together, they turned from the glossy, yet dull and dusky shine of the ocean beyond, and looked to the shimmering stars that dotted the night sky. And together, their voices rang out.  “

Glory never fades

.”  ———————————————— This potato will now silence themselves as they have no flipping clue what they wrote at 1 AM in the morning and it doesn’t make sense. And I’ll probably feel massive regret too.. What have I wrought.   (I hope you enjoyed it somewhat nonetheless ^^;)

---

AKJSDHJSFLFDKJFKSJDJS DEM FEELS THAT WAS AMAZINGGG Hey I’m gonna make an amped up, more serious comic to go along with this bc a) I love this and b) I’ve been wanting to draw some sort of comic for something for a while now xD

I’d say maybe in the beginning, you could improve on making the details flow more smoothly? (it got better towards the end tho :D) But idk bc I suck as a writer like this is better than anything I can do so great job and I’ll let the other fanfic writers give some advice if they have any haha

[coquuin]

really LONG CHARACTER SURVEY. RULES. repost ,   don’t  reblog  !  good  luck  !

TAGGED. i stole it from Kiki!! TAGGING. whoever wants to do it!!

BASICS.

FULL NAME: Ezekiel Axel Ruiz Rosario

NICKNAME: Zeke

AGE: (Verse dependent) anywhere from 19 to 25! most often tho, i usually make him 25.

BIRTHDAY: November 15 (self given bc he doesnt know his real birthday)

ETHNIC GROUP: Puerto Rican / Latino

NATIONALITY: British-American

LANGUAGE(S): English, Spanish, Dutch, Japanese, Latin, Romanian, some Russian, and some Chinese! he likes to study languages a lot....

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Demi-Pansexual

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Demi-Panromantic

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Hes multiship boiiii

CLASS: Upper class, though he really doesnt have very expensive tastes or anything. Seems like he’d be lower class, but. yknow, he is a celebrity so.

HOMETOWN / AREA: London, England

CURRENT HOME: A very small and shitty apartment. Yeah, he could get a much better home bc he does have the money, but... hes weird and likes a more slightly cramped space. dont question Ezekiel, he has weird preferences.

PROFESSION: Guitarist of the rock band Rogue! also used to work at a music shop when he was like 17, but that was back in London.

PHYSICAL.

HAIR: Very curly and messy black hair! He hardly bothers to take care of it. its prolly greasy bc hes a fucking gremlin pls make him take a shower. stinky boye

EYES: BIG OL FUCKIN EYES. they’re brown! a little sunken, and has massive bags under them--rather than the bags being from lack of sleep, though, theyre actually a result of too much sleep! Ezekiel can and WILL fall asleep wherever and whenever he wants. you cant stop him. his eyes are pretty big actually, and very expressive!

NOSE: the bitch looks like its been broken like ten times. he got a weird ass nose. its a little big, but not terribly so!

FACE: scrawny as FUCK. motherfucker’s head shape looks like a fuckin crescent moon. you know that one tiktok meme with the girl who has the weird ass moon lookin head? bitch looks like that a little bit. croissant lookin ass head.

LIPS: very thin! pls get him some chapstick

COMPLEXION: bitch looks like he hasnt gone out in the sun in over 20 years! which, actually, isnt entirely wrong bc he pretty much hasn’t. pale as fuck! his skin looks gray, like a fucking corpse. he looks like a zombie, but i swear to god hes a plain ass human i think

BLEMISHES: a lot! mostly on his body tho, especially on his back.

SCARS: A  L O T!!! his back is literally covered in a shit ton of scars in the shape of upside down crosses, and he has a lot on the rest of his body as well, and several on his left wrist. yeah he, uh... he aint okay

TATTOOS: None! hes way too terrified to get one and hates the idea of one being stuck on his body for like the rest of his life rip

HEIGHT: 6′ 3″ / 190.05cm

WEIGHT: about like... 98lbs?? which is. fUCKING TERRIBLE FOR HOW TALL HE IS!!! LIKE HOLY SHIT EZEKIEL ARE YOU GOOD??? HOW ARE YOU ALIVE?!?!?! EZEKIEL?!?!?!?! FUCKING EAT SOMETHING PL EASE

BUILD: SCRAWNY AS SHIT. HE IS SO SKINNY HOLY SHIT. OH MY GOD GET THIS BOY A FUCKING BURGER OR SOMETHING BEFORE HE DIES JESUS CHRIST!!!!

ALLERGIES: Dandelions! He’ll just sneeze a lot around them

USUAL HAIRSTYLE: The bangs are kiiiinda kept to the side sorta just so its not falling in his eyes, but other than that, he doesnt really bother to like, style it or anything. its just curly and messy. although! when he was a child all the way to his teens, he did have a stupid ass bowlcut! but that wasnt his own choice, so he cant really be blamed for it :(

USUAL FACE LOOK: motherfucker has the WORST case of resting bitch face you will ever fucking see. even when hes happy he still looks angery sometimes!!! but thats literally just his fucking face!!!!

USUAL CLOTHING: a looot of slightly baggy clothing. lots of hoodies! especially wears a lot of black and red, mostly black. also wears mostly boots or sneakers, usually the ladder. he just doesnt really give two shits about fashion, as he’s more concerned with just sorta.. hiding his body. hes very insecure! save him

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR(S): "the devil”, getting close to anyone, performing in front of people, people in general, cats, knives & other sharp objects, the sight of his own blood

ASPIRATION(S): "to escape the Devil’s wrath,” as he phrases it. of course, the whole ‘THE DEVIL IS OUT TO KILL EVERYONE I LOVE AND THEN HE’LL KILL ME NEXT’ thing is obviously just in Ezekiel’s head, but it feels very real to him! he basically just wants to be free of the “demons” in his head. aside from that, he also really really reeaaally wants to own an orphanage someday! basically take in orphan kids and help give them a much better life than he had. but as for right now, he fully realizes he’s not ready for that at all, so he’s currently more focused on his music career and getting better mentally, though the ladder is a slow process.

POSITIVE TRAITS: Patient, simple, humble

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Rude, temperamental, paranoid

ZODIAC: Scorpio!

TEMPERAMENT: uhhhh fuck idk i just took a quiz for this and ezekiel got like a tie between phlegmatic and melancholic--but if i had to guess, i’d say melancholic!

SOUL TYPE(S): Spiritualist!

ANIMALS: i always associate Ezekiel with dogs bc. he literally just acts like a fuckin angery dog. and an angery snake or something. bUT MOSTLY DOGS. he will literally bark at people, because he’s a fucking weirdo who doesnt know how to behave like a normal fucking human being

VICE  HABIT(S): uhhh drugs and alcohol are a big thing he does!! and generally pushing everyone away so he doesnt get close to anyone! and also acting like a gotdam ANIMAL. SOMEONE PLS MAKE EZEKIEL STOP FUCKING BARKING AND HISSING AT PEOPLE!!!

FAITH: Christian! his religion is very important to him too!

GHOSTS?: Yes!

AFTERLIFE?: Yes!

REINCARNATION?: He isn’t really sure about reincarnation, but wants to believe it exists.

ALIENS?: Yes.

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: fuck if he knows. ezekiel could not give less of a shit about politics and hardly knows anything about it bc he really doesnt keep up with anything.

SOCIO POLITICAL POSITION: he doesnt give a fuck

EDUCATION LEVEL: None. he never even went to school, fun fact!

FAMILY.

FATHER: Dead!

MOTHER: Dead!

SIBLINGS: None!

EXTENDED FAMILY: None!

NAME MEANING(S): Ezekiel means “God will strengthen”! I have no idea what Rosario means sadly bc i cant find anything good on it on google :(

HISTORICAL CONNECTION?: None that he knows of.

FAVORITES.

BOOK: He couldn’t possibly pick a single favorite book--he loves a lot! but he loves mostly romance genres! which is so fucking ironic considering he’s fucking terrified of getting into relationships. and even more ironically? he doesnt read any horror genres bc it scares him too much!

MOVIE: he doesn’t know.

5 SONGS: While My Guitar Gently Weeps - the Beatles; Brick in the Wall - Pink Floyd; Stairway to Heaven - Led Zeppelin; Bohemian Rhapsody - Queen; Don’t Fear the Reaper - Blue Oyster Cult.

DEITY: God, Jesus

HOLIDAY: Christmas! everyone expects Ezekiel to be like the grinch or something and hate Christmas, but nope! He surprisingly loves it!

MONTH: March

SEASON: Fall

PLACE: His bed

WEATHER: Preferably a little cold, but not too much, bc he just cant stand being hot--and completely dark outside!

SOUND: Gentle guitar strums.

SCENT(S): Ivory

TASTE(S): Anything thats like. Meat. hes very picky tho

FEEL(S): Skin. As in, like, being affectionate with someone else! He’s just very touch starved rip

ANIMAL(S): Yknow, oddly enough, despite acting like a fuckin wild animal a lot, he doesnt like animals much. but definitely dogs are his favorite!

NUMBER: 20

COLORS: Red and black--though he likes blue as well, especially dark blue.

EXTRA.

TALENTS: Music--especially with guitar! And painting, writing, literature.

BAD AT: Anything to do with math or science and stuff like that; anything that requires physical work. hes p much bad at like.. most things tbh.

TURN ONS: Just like.. be soft and gentle with him... also probably has a lowkey praise kink--if you could call it much of a kink i guess? hes pretty vanilla tbh. hes just soft.....

TURN OFFS: If you go rough on him at all he WILL cry. Also anything that, like, restricts him like ropes or some shit will literally make him panic so fucking bad. basically hes just vanilla as fuck, just be gentle with him pls

HOBBIES: Writing / playing music, writing in general, painting, watching random ass movies on TV until he falls asleep, sleeping, avoiding his problems like the fuckin wind

TROPES: man fuck if i know

AESTHETIC TAGS: literally all of Aurelio Voltaire’s songs; shit you’d see in Halloween (which is funny bc Ezekiel fucking hates Halloween); vampires; satanic symbolism. which is all ironic, bc Ezekiel doesnt actually like spooky shit! but it all sure does give big Ezekiel vibes anyway

GPOY  QUOTES: huh

FC INFO.

MAIN  FC(S): Jack the ripper from, well, Oyasumi Jack the Ripper!

ALT FC(S): None!

OLDER FC(S): None!

YOUNGER  FC(S): None rip

VOICE CLAIM(S): Murdoc Niccals from Gorillaz

GENDERBENT FC(S): iiiiii dont really do genderbends pretty much so none

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1: IF YOU COULD WRITE YOUR CHARACTER YOUR WAY IN THEIR OWN MOVIE, WHAT WOULD IT BE CALLED, WHAT STYLE WOULD IT BE FILMED IN, AND WHAT WOULD IT BE ABOUT?:

Honestly probably something like the movie Sybil??? like basically just delving deep into his whole psychology and mindset and whatnot and why he acts the way he acts. those are always like my FAVORITE type of movies, and Ezekiel would honestly be fucking perfect for something like that bc literally every single aspect of his entire personality has been molded in some way shape or form by some event in his life, especially to do with the cult he was raised in, and it hONESTLY IS SO INTERESTING TO JUST LIKE.. STUDY WHAT EZEKIELS BRAIN IS LIKE BASICALLY. AT LEAST FOR ME ANYWAY BC I AM HIS MUN AND ALL BUT.

Q2: WHAT WOULD THEIR SOUNDTRACK / SCORE SOUND LIKE?:

for some reason i always kinda associate him with like edgy violin and piano music?? i mean hey rock stars can be classy too fuck u

Q3: WHY DID YOU START WRITING THIS CHARACTER?:

WELL ORIGINALLY WHEN I FIRST CREATED HIM HE WAS JUST BASED OFF MURDOC NICCALS BC, YALL ALREADY KNOW DAMN WELL IM OBSESSED WITH THAT PICKLE MAN, BUT. Now, however, he’s WAAAAAAAAY different and i just love writing him so much bc like. basically like what i said in the movie question!! he is SO fucking interesting to delve into psychology wise. like, yeah he has an edgy ass tragic backstory, but whats neat about that is you can absolutely see how said edgy backstory ties into his mindset and individual habits and how the memories of it still affects his everyday life despite the fact that he’s escaped it a long time ago now. even in the small things he does, chances are is that every single thing that he does is either something he does to soothe and comfort himself for his own safety, or something that has just been fucking drilled into his mind by the cult members and whatnot, if any of that makes sense? LIKE YALL DONT UNDERSTAND I HAVE LITERALLY WATCHED LIKE HOURS LONG DOCUMENTARIES ON ORPHANAGES AND SATANIC CULTS AND PSYCHOLOGY AND HOW TRAUMA LIKE WHAT EZEKIEL EXPERIENCED CAN FUCK SOMEONE UP, JUST FOR THE SAKE OF WRITING HIM CORRECTLY AND REALISTICALLY. LIKE HE STARTED OFF AS SOME MURDOC NICCALS REJECT WHEN I MADE HIM IN LIKE?? 2015 MAYBE??? BUT NOW, MY MAIN INTEREST IN HIM IS LIKE, HOW FASCINATING HIS FUCKING MIND IS IN A WAY. idk im a big psychology nerd but.

Q4: WHAT FIRST ATTRACTED YOU TO THIS CHARACTER?:

Murdoc

Q5: DESCRIBE THE BIGGEST THING YOU DISLIKE ABOUT YOUR MUSE:

him pushing everyone away! like its one thing to have a self-defense mechanism like where you just generally act kinda mean to drive people off, but Ezekiel can really take it to a whole new level and he really can be like.. a hUGE ASSHOLE BC OF IT. its mostly when he realizes that he may be starting to become close with anyone that it really gets to a bad point and he becomes all the more self-destructive. THIS IS GONNA BE VERY UNSANITARY SO WARNING BUT hes literally told someone in an rp once like “YOURE GOING TO FORCE ME TO EAT YOUR SHIT OR DRINK YOUR FUCKING URINE JUST LIKE THOSE FUCKING PEOPLE IN THE ORPHANAGE DID, ARENT YOU???? IS THAT WHAT YOU FUCKING WANT FROM ME?? TO USE ME, HURT ME, CUT ME, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT??? WE ARE NEVER GOING TO BE FUCKING FRIENDS YOU GODDAMN IDIOT!!! WHAT THE HELL MADE YOU THINK WE HAD ANYTHING IN COMMON??” AND ITS JUST KINDA.. YIKES SCOOB! but basically hes willing to say just about anything to push people away so he can avoid getting close to anyone

Q6: WHAT DO YOU HAVE IN COMMON WITH YOUR MUSE?:

WE BOTH FEAR AND AVOID ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS LIKE THE FUCKIN WIND. also when i was younger i definitely had a tendency to try and make people hate me just to push people away like Ezekiel does but im not like that anymore thankfully!!

Q7: HOW DOES YOUR MUSE FEEL ABOUT YOU?:

oh hed probably try to fucking kill me lol

Q8: WHAT CHARACTERS DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE INTERESTING INTERACTIONS WITH?

HONESTLY LIKE.. P MUCH EVERY INTERACTION EZEKIEL HAS IS SO GOOD. Ezekiel is one of those characters where its very hard to have a boring rp bc he just does so much shit, so like no matter who i rp him with, its bound to be amazing. ALTHOUGH I DO NEED TO MAKE HIM INTERACT WITH MORE PEOPLE TBH!!! the only problem i have when writing him sometimes is actually making him talk to new people, bc of his extreme shut-in attitude and whatnot, so he literally just never starts conversations with anyone he barely knows.

Q9: WHAT GIVES YOU INSPIRATION TO WRITE YOUR MUSE?:

listening to any music that reminds me of him! but otherwise, it usually just comes pretty naturally to me tbh. just some days ill be in the mood for him all day--same with a lot of my characters actually.

Q10: HOW LONG DID THIS TAKE YOU TO COMPLETE?:

A LONG ASS TIME

[0zrockbitway]

Dragon Eleven notes bcuz I’m a lazy person and will probably never get to draw everyone lmao. I might update links to the ones I already did but idk also these are just the current ones I have in mind

~Original~

Kazemaru - a salty dragon because humans took part of his right horn & also messed up his left eye (his human-y form covers the scar). fastest dragon you will ever meet. wind elemental most likely. probably the cause of villages being blown away or something.

Endou - a happy and optimistic dragon. hoards soccer balls. wants to befriend all and play human sport. grandpa dragon passes down orange headband but doesn’t know how to wear headband??? thinks its neckband. every time he catches a ball it pops because of his claws. earth elemental. more gliding > flying type. is actually very heavy

Tatsuya/Hiroto - celestial dragon from space but is unaware of origins. ‘collects’ stars by keeping notebooks of them. space nerd. cosmic powers/elemental?? can casually float. super curious about like everything. won’t start a fight but will retaliate if the other side throws a punch first

Midorikawa - a plant/nature-y elemental. might have some celestial blood in him. he’s the reason why burnt down forests grow back overnight most likely. also the cause of new flowers being found. scared of humans. lives in some abandoned tower where his book collection is. has too many books but not enough. the tower is covered in plant life. a dragon that means no harm.

Nagumo - fire elemental. lives in a volcano and bathes in lava (its the equivalent of a pool to him). fire everywhere. very warm but doesn’t like to be touched. constantly burns things down. fire flowers are real and grow on his volcano, do not touch. if you tell him not to burn down a village that’s the first thing he’s guna do

Suzuno - ice elemental. a dragon that is super cold to the touch. Lives in his snowy mountain top, bathes in ice water. Doesn’t like company at all and won’t even bother to harass human villages. Doesn’t even like dealing with other dragons. Ice crystals are really cool and he can make anything out of ice.

Saginuma - celestial dragon with spatial abilities. sort of obsessed with power. tries to get other dragons to be stronger/motivate them in general. doesn’t really stay in one place. helps dragons who are in danger probably. follows a dragon codebook to try and be a ‘good’ dragon

Tsunami - water elemental dragon. lives in/by the ocean. is actually liked by humans. helps out fisherman. hoards seashells and makes bracelets, hands them out to children if they do a good deed. can breathe underwater. super friendly, doesn’t fight. can’t fly but can jump really high from out of the water.

Tachimukai - dragon of luck, technically under earth elemental. usually means well and tries to be good to humans and dragons. tries to give good luck more than bad. easily frightened and overthinks a lot. lives in a town/city that doesn’t mind dragons

Fubuki - a snow/ice elemental. pretty nice and chill. has nightmares occasionally. usually stays around the snowy terrain. visits a few other dragons but always returns back to a certain spot. do not touch scarf. doesn’t act himself at times. can’t handle super loud noises. hates others seeing him in a panic state.

Aphrodi - divine elemental. has soft hair/fur/feathers > scales. has 6 wings but usually just shows off 2. angelic blood. language expert. very pretty and definitely acts like a deity around the town he lives nearby. might have been cast down from the heavens. never says his full name to others for some reason.

Natsumi - royal dragon, princess. doesn’t take anyone’s shit. jewels everywhere. beautiful in human and dragon form. null elemental, royal dragons can null other dragon’s abilities

Touko - royal dragon of another area. also nulls out abilities but knows how to fight. wants to fight without using her ability. a good leader, follows in her father’s footsteps. tends to go out and explore.

Reina - celestial dragon that knows how to fight. has cosmic powers/abilities similar to Tatsuya but has better control over them. deathly loyal. pissing her off most likely means death. protective of those she calls a family. was cast aside by her original family. doesn’t like when people stare at her wings for too long

~GO~

Tsurugi - fire elemental, mix of darkness. black flames. quiet and hates explaining things but does it anyway. fights against knights and claims their swords. wants to get his brother to fly again

Yuuichi - fire and darkness elemental mix. also black flames. lost a wing in a battle against a knight, can’t fly. a good big bro, looks out for all no matter what. admires a fire dragon who used to fight knights. sort of doesn’t want to keep fighting against knights

Tenma - wind elemental, has some light abilities to. a pure boy who also wants to learn of soccer sport. gets pushed around but is very hopeful. gets along with lots of animals.

Kirino - illusion elemental. likes to sing. very pretty. a good friend to those he likes. once got mistaken for a princess and hated it. stays around more local places and stays away from royal lands

Shindou - musical elemental dragon, deals with sound. just wants to make music that people will like to listen to. probably helps humans with music. can’t stand loud noises. will take the blame if the humans he helped fail in their music

Kariya - poison type dragon. can generate poison of various lethal strengths. plays innocent but will strike at the last second. kinda lonely. gets scared easily but denies it. had a bad incident with snakes and cannot stand them. needs friends. initially born to be a hunting dragon

Hakuryuu - light elemental. has the shortest temper and will attack without thinking. thinks he’s the best dragon around and will fight anyone on this. his weakness is head pats. had chocolate once and will never eat it again. praise him if you don’t want him to destroy you

Shuu - darkness elemental. ghost dragon. passed on years ago but was cursed to remain on this world. a kind spirit but is lowkey sad. regret. tends to stay around nature/forest. knows a lot of ancient customs and how humans and dragons used to be. if you hurt his sister you’re dead.

Meztli - shuu’s younger sister. also a ghost and darkness elemental. being a sacrifice she was offered a second chance but instead wanted to be with her brother. good girl. just wants brother to be happy. not that strong but she tries her best. sort of afraid of water and will not fly over large bodies of it.