#They are battling in my brain to be my number 1 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ancuninfiles · 16 days

Text

Your Peace

Screenshot: @cheekylittlepupp GIF: @astarionposting

An enormous thank-you to @gelican-gelicant (Gelican AO3) for beta-reading tf out of this. (and being my first beta-reader uwu). I highly recommend checking out their works, as they are my number 1 favourite.

M/F Astarion x Female Tav - 9.8K words Warning: Graphic depictions of violence Summary: Astarion is tactful and precise, while Tav fights like a brute with no decorum, which leaves her badly injured after every battle. Astarion teaches barbaric Tav a lesson by besting her in hand-to-hand combat, but Tav wants Astarion's hands on her in more ways than one.

Tags: predator/prey, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, choking, oral sex (female receiving), play-fighting, rough sex, feral Astarion, feral Tav, light bondage, smut and fluff, 2 sex scenes, realization of feelings, mildly dubious consent, aftercare, soft Astarion, blood loss, vampire bites, creampie

Read on AO3 (Recommended)

It had been another uneventful day, each one bleeding into the next; another goblin-overrun village to loot, another set of monsters to bargain with - this time, a surprisingly intelligent gaggle of ogres; and one more day without a solution in sight for the damned tadpoles invading their brains.

The sun setting on the camp, the group began to shed their armour. Astarion heard the clinking of mail and breastplates reverberate throughout the clearing; but not a sound from Tav's tent, who often opted to go without. Preferring close combat, she always felt it somehow hindered her ability to fight well - she insisted on her preference for lightweight leather and linen, at the cost of returning to camp covered head-to-toe in not only the blood of their enemies but her own as well - a perpetual caul of intermingled ichor.

This never seemed to bother Tav, however. If anything, she viewed battle scars as an honour, never complaining about a wound that didn’t reach her internal organs. But Astarion didn’t match her cavalier attitude, eyeing her scored skin with unease.

His approach was in stark contrast to hers, talented with a bow and arrow as he was, and nearly invisible when striking from the shadows. He followed a simple rule: to strike and to not be struck. The signs were subtle when he initiated a battle - not a cry or shout from an enemy spotting him - but by a foe falling to the ground with a punctured jugular, or tumbling to the ground with an arrow between their eyes that they hadn’t even seen coming.

His technique and precision earned him an unspoken right to first blow in most of their assaults, whereas Tav's methods in battle were the opposite; though sloppy and uncalculated, she was a hard hitter. While he struck the first blow silently, she oft landed the finishing blow with a bang - finishing what he started. Astarion was never one to blanche at the sight of blood, but not every one of their companions were so jaded to seeing crushed skulls with brains spilling out; Gale could often be found emptying his stomach after the more gruesome of the massacres Tav created.

While their symbiosis was effective, Astarion had bitten his tongue for weeks to keep from chiding Tav’s tactless strategy - or lack thereof. Despite her rugged constitution, she could not be infallible forever, and he did not want to be caught mid-battle with their best fighter downed on the day she learned that lesson the hard way. Tav was going to end up in the enemy's hands, or dead. As his travel-mates relaxed, he fretted over this thought and realized unsettlingly that the thought of her bloodied and limp turned his stomach infinitely more than the sight of a hundred of the skulls that she crushed like old fruit.

It was then that an idea came to him. He’d show Tav how easily he could best her in a fight - then she would start taking her self-preservation more seriously. Having gone a full day with barely a speck of trouble, he knew they both had stamina for sparring. He could challenge her to hand-to-hand combat, proposing it as a game.

And from what he knew of Tav, impulsive and brutish as she was, there was no way she would turn down his proposition.

__________

The sun had begun to fall, only a sliver of daylight colouring the sky in purple and amber hues. Astarion was washed up and in fresh night clothes, and Tav sat by the fire, warming her hands. Astarion approached from across the tall flames, standing in front of her with his hands on his hips.

"Hey Astarion," she said dully, before gazing back down at the fire and hugging her knees.

"Hi, dear." He eyed her inquisitively. "Bored?"

Tav looked back up at him with wide eyes. "Yeah, well - we didn't even get to murder any evil bastards today." She averted her gaze downwards before mindlessly rubbing the scars on her forearm. “It helps take my mind off of things. The pain, I mean. It gives me something else to focus on.” She let out a heavy sigh.

Astarion paused before responding. Her words were befuddling to him, planting a seed of worry in his mind. He had plenty of things to keep his mind from drifting to, whether that be his inevitable clash with Cazador or the ever-looming threat of illithid transformation; so he would sew or read, like a normal person. Pain was something to be avoided, not sought after in some hapless attempt at distraction.

”Are you aware that you're a bit self-destructive?" He asked, crossing his arms and clicking his tongue. He shook his head at her. "My dear, we all need you alive. You can't keep throwing yourself to the lions at every opportunity."

"Well, it’s worked for me so far." She frowned pensively, gazing into the flames and continuing to stroke the bumps of scar tissue across her forearms.

Astarion knelt to her level, tilting his head from side to side and lifting his shoulders in a gesture of indifference. "Eh - that’s correct, so far. You’ve managed to keep all your limbs attached, but I would be remiss if I didn’t insist that it’s not . . . sustainable behaviour." He offered her a smile to soften the blow of his criticism, which she returned with a withering stare.

Tav rolled her eyes. "Hmm,” she said, finally looking up at him, “you think you're stronger than me? Is that it?"

"Well, no,” he said, standing again, “but I don’t think it’s a matter of opinion that I leave the battlefield with the same amount of casualties, yet far fewer scars.” He held out his hand. "I have a, er, proposition of sorts."

Tav looked up at him quizzically as the wind blew the fire smoke sideways. "What kind of proposition?"

"Well," he began, "I suggest we find a spot in the woods and play a game. No weapons, no tools. Hand-to-hand combat, just you and I. If I win, you’ll let me teach you how to complete a battle without becoming horribly mangled each and every time. If you win, I’ll leave it, and you can keep on fighting like a rabid animal with no further complaint on my end." His eyes held a devious twinkle despite his nonchalant tone. "So, what do you say?"

Astarion knew he had succeeded in appealing to her competitive nature when she grinned like a child challenged to a footrace. "Well that’s not fair - you challenge me on a day like today, when I sit here craving bloodshed? How could I say no? Let's do it!"

He smiled with satisfaction. Insatiable, he thought.

As she stood, he was already pinpointing her weakness. Today, she would learn the downside of fighting mindlessly. She would learn, one way or another, to keep her head on a swivel - so he wouldn’t have to fret every time she left his sight.

He held out his hand. "We're going to have so much fun, darling," he said, smiling his scoundrel’s smile.

This was going to be easy.

__________

The last light from the sun disappeared from the horizon as they waltzed to a clearing in the woods.

When they arrived at a suitable glade, Astarion placed his hands on either side of Tav's shoulders and carefully repositioned her. "You stand here." He said.

She obliged and nodded her head, unable to bite back her giddiness

He fought the urge to praise her for being such an obedient pup, at the risk of incurring her contrarian nature. But he loved how much trust she put in him - a foreign and welcome feeling. It was a strange swell of pride in his diaphragm that had only grown since she first let him drink her lifeblood; a feeling that he had begun to grow attached to. Every stirring and sound from her caused a mirrored reaction in his chest - self-preservation on his part, surely, and nothing else; his body, simply securing the safety of its self-replenishing food source.

Astarion stalked 10 feet away from Tav before wheeling around to face her. Tav was already crouched, tense and savage.

He groaned internally. How helpless she is, he thought. She’s already given it all away, every move announced before we’ve even started.

But this wasn't a lesson yet - it was still a game. He would give her one practice round, before driving his lesson home.

"Alright, listen up." He cleared his throat. "Ground rules: No weapons, as you already know. And we fight til one of us is prone - no killing one another, if you please; I would hate to waste more coin on that stingy skeleton's magic." With a coy glance, he added, "Oh - and I'm not going to go easy, dear. I’d expect the same from you." He smirked and stood in an upright position, examining his nails.

He could see without even glancing up that she was practically frothing at the mouth. She looked like a fragile doe, practicing its most menacing and barbaric battle stance. Astarion’s undead heart fluttered. If it were not so pathetic, it might be hopelessly endearing. He wondered if the others ever noticed that duality of natures in Tav - secretly, he hoped they hadn’t. Some dark corner of his heart whispered that her nature ought only to be his to see. The others could cringe and wince at her animality as they liked; and only he would see the beauty that lay under the butchery.

She nodded her head and readied herself further, teetering from left to right.

"Ready?" Astarion asked.

Tav simply nodded again as she swayed back and forth, holding his gaze..

"Set."

Her pupils widened, and her heels dug into the ground, which delighted Astarion to no end, though he dared not show it.

"Go."

Tav charged Astarion, kicking up dirt and sticks in her wake. Astarion readied himself and bent his knees. He could see plain as day not only that she was preparing to tackle him, but the angle she aimed for; the direction of her gaze and lack of any grace or guise gave away every move, long before she made it.

All he had to do was step aside.

She looked behind her, rage in her eyes fueled further by adrenaline, but Astarion was nowhere to be seen. She stood there in her battle stance, with breath heaving, head whipping around in a panic.

Not but 5 seconds later, Astarion had kicked the backs of Tav's knees with his shin and grabbed her ponytail. He ripped her to the ground by her hair with his left hand, and her knees folded beneath her completely. He gained further purchase, clasping his fingers at the nape of her hairline and scraping his nails against her scalp. He sat astride her thighs, locking her under his weight.

Quick and precise, he snaked his right hand up to grasp her neck with crushing pressure before letting go of her scalp. His fingers could nearly wrap completely around the meagre girth of her swan-like neck. But he had promised not to hold back - so he pulled her head about a foot off of the ground by her throat.

This all happened so fast that Tav had not even caught a breath before she registered she was caught in his chokehold. She startled, attempting to plant a right hook on the square of his jaw but he dodged and then lunged his head forward to bite deeply into her wrist with his whole maw. He didn't try to drain her, but the gesture let her know that he could have; the taste of her in his mouth, warm and heady, was only an additional perk.

Tav yanked at her arm, which affected nothing but the width of the wounds as her skin tore further under his fangs.. Tav groaned at the pain and Astarion smiled into the bite, the red of her blood dripping down his face marking victory. Tav used her left hand to try and pry herself away from Astarion's strangling grasp but she was significantly weaker from the lack of oxygen supply to her brain.

She continued to wince and squirm to no avail under his blood-red sneer, but it seemed to only egg him on further. His pupils blew wide, and he finally resembled the predator he was. His jaw tightened on her wrist while his hand mercilessly squeezed her throat, a boa constrictor toying with its prey

Her ferocity only spurred the flame within him. Only when her face began to go purple did he bring his unoccupied wrist to her mouth, a mocking offering of a chew toy.

If she would not tap out to end their game, he would win when she would inevitably faint away. But she bit anyway - a final fuck-you salute before she drifted into unconsciousness, of blunt teeth pressing pathetically with a slackening jaw.

Astarion laughed at her with a mouth full of flesh as he moved his wrist back and forth, watching her fight her losing battle to the last breath. His eyebrows canted upwards. Adorable, he thought. As if she still stands a chance.

He leaned forward and lifted her head further until they were only inches apart, but Tav continued to look back at him with unfaltering determination. Tav’s bleeding wrist nestled in his mouth, dripping beads of crimson onto her paling cheeks. Astarion screwed up his face, letting loose a deep, guttural growl, scarlet fluid bubbling and spattering from his lips to her face. Her lashes fluttered as she drifted away. The last sound she made before the world went black was a soft whimper, her feeble attempt to mimic his growl.

Astarion let go of her throat and her wrist gently then, softly lowering her to the ground. He removed the heel of his palm from her moist lips, a string of saliva connecting them.

He knew he had to act fast - he guessed he had ten seconds or less before she would regain consciousness, with perhaps another ten before she logged what was going on.

He tore her shirt into a long strip with his teeth, leaving her upper body in nothing but her small clothes, discarding the spare scraps of her shirt beneath her. He dismounted, moving to tie her wrists together above her head, quickly and tightly. Tav convulsed back to consciousness as the blood made its way back to her brain. He then tied the rest of the fabric around the base of a tree that was a foot behind her, fastening her to it.

Tav’s eyes opened slowly as she lay in the dirt, unmoving and silent. Astarion knelt beside her head and swiped her bleeding arm with his finger before inserting it into his mouth. He removed his digit with a pop before placing a gentle hand on her bloody cheek. He slowly caressed her with the backs of his fingers.

He had lately begun to experience a creeping paranoia that she was on to him - he had been spending more time around her. Was she aware of his burgeoning adoration? How he wanted the best for her, and how he hoped that would be him? The feeling gnawed at his cold heart. A lovesick puppy, he chided himself internally, all because she had shared her blood with me.

But no - it was more than that. For once in his life, someone listened to him; made him feel like he mattered. While the other companions were resistant to Astarion’s suggestions, Tav was attentive, thoughtful even.. Even when she didn’t agree, she never hesitated to take his opinion into careful consideration; To make him feel that his thoughts held weight.

Her skin, now spattered black and red with drying blood, felt so soft as he brushed his fingers on her supple cheek with painstaking tenderness. He let the adoration he felt pour through his gaze as her eyes began to flit open.

“Hi, darling.” He smiled.

Her eyes locked with his adulatory stare. “H- hi.”

“It looks like you’ll be taking tact lessons with yours truly. Are you ready for your first lesson?”

Her cheeks began to flush and her skin suddenly felt hotter. He had hoped that his affection would disarm her; and judging by the flush on her cheekbones, he had been right.

Tav scrunched her eyes and wriggled her arms. She realized that her hands were bound.

She spoke softly. “I’m not upset, but why the bindings?”

“Just a precautionary measure,” he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “I wasn’t sure if you would accept defeat or not, charmingly stubborn as you are.”

Astarion removed his hand from Tav’s face, and he looked her up and down. He noticed that her legs were pressed together and her toes were wiggling.

Tav let out an enormous sigh and looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. Her knees came off the ground and her soles pressed to the earth. Her legs swayed anxiously and an endearing smile crept across her lips.

Astarion could sense that Tav had gotten excited. It wasn’t odd to him that the elation of battle sparked a desire within her - he had seen it happen before; often times, particularly after an exceptionally gruesome battle, leaving Tav dripping from head to toe in gore, he had found it difficult to resist propositioning her right then and there. He held back out of respect, but he could see now that she wanted him as he had wanted her, unmistakeably.

“Now what?” Tav asked, her restless limbs tugging and wrestling her bindings futilely.

Astarion traced a line down the side of her ribcage down to her hip, watching her face all the while as her breathing hitched and a small shudder ran through her.

“What would you like, dear? You suddenly seem so needy . . .” he teased.

“Astarion I - you were amazing,” she started, “If we can duel more often, I think - I think I would like that. There are other games we can play to pass the time, too. Like hide-and-seek or, uhm . . . other things?” She bit her lip and her hips gave an adorable wiggle.

So, a hands-on learner who likes to have my hands on her, he thinks to himself. Got it.

“Other things?” he breathed, leaning in closer to her face. He placed an arm on either side of her head and bent his elbows, lowering his lips to brush against her ear. “What did you have in mind?” he whispered in a low voice.

She choked out a sigh. Astarion placed a chaste kiss on her cheek beside her ear. He came to rest on his elbows as he stroked her fringe back with his left hand, caressing her head repeatedly.

Tav gulped before saying, “You could keep touching me if you want. You could touch me all over.”

“Is that what you want, my love?” Astarion removed the hand from her hair and snuck it to her breast under her small clothes. He teased her nipple with his thumb before pinching it sensually. He grasped her mound firmly.

Tav squeaked, and the pace of her breath quickened, adding to the appeal of her flushed cheeks and parted lips.

“Yea,” she moaned with abandon, “please. Touch me, bite me. I need you. I want you - ah -” she groaned as he continued to tease her, her beet-red face twisting in desperation, “inside me - please!”

Astarion growled in her ear. Tav's words went straight to his groin, which was now uncomfortably straining against his pants. Tav looked mortified on top of needy. It must've taken more courage for her to admit what she wanted than it took for her to fight a hoard of goblins solo.

Astarion kissed up Tav's cheek until he found her lips. He kissed her softly before seeking entrance to her mouth with his tongue. She moaned and opened her mouth for him, and he brought her into a fervent kiss.

Their lips remained locked passionately as Astarion snaked his left hand from her breast to her back. His arm hooked around her and he squeezed her tight against his chest. He broke the kiss and Tav whimpered softly. His lips trailed down to her neck, where two puncture marks were healing over from a week ago. He kissed and sucked her flesh in and around the spot where he had bitten before, causing beautiful red welts to decorate her throat.

Astarion used his knee to pry Tav's legs open where he would rest his own pelvis against hers, pressing his hardened length against her core. His right arm came around her back to hold the back of her head tenderly. His lips searched for hers again and he pressed his entire face and body into her, hugging her tightly against him as her legs wrapped around his torso.

Their kiss was bruising, and Astarion groaned noisily into Tav's mouth. He took her lip into his teeth and pierced the flesh shallowly. Tav moaned longingly before Astarion began to suck on her bottom lip with indignation. He brushed his fingers through the hair on the back of her head and grasped it as he had before.

His hips came forward to press firmly against Tav's heat, and a whimper escaped her throat.

Astarion repeatedly rutted into her, her wetness soaking through both her pants and his. She whined indigently at the loss of contact when he pulled away, letting go of her hair and lifting himself from her.

He sat back on his heels and placed a hand on either of her knees before rubbing both hands down her thighs, and up to her waist. She squirmed, and he grabbed her waistband. Her feet pressed into the dirt as she lifted her pelvis cooperatively from the ground to help ease the bottoms off. He took her pants and her underwear off in one motion, exposing her soaking folds to the cool night air.

He pried her trembling knees apart and lowered his face to her cunt. He licked a thick stripe through her folds, hooking his arms under her thighs. Astarion gripped her flesh and pulled himself into her, sucking vehemently on her clit. Tav writhed and cried in his grasp, but he locked her in place as he played with her nub mercilessly. Astarion's wet mouth growled into her cunt as it began to spasm and clench emptily.

Astarion sat up and wiped his mouth with the back of his arm. Tav was flushed and panting, her tits heaving with every breath. Astarion stood up to fully remove his top, and then his pants. His cock sprang free, pre-cum already soaking the tip. He stared down at Tav admiringly and watched her squirm about, pressing her legs together helplessly. She continued to struggle with her fastenings, her wrists beginning to turn as red as her cheeks as she looked up at him with glossy, pleading eyes.

The unfettered heat of her gaze made his chest tighten. It wasn't until then that he had begun to admit that his besetting and ceaseless thoughts towards Tav truly bordered on obsession.

The space he granted her was out of propriety alone, but within him lay a deep and unyielding desire to be with her wholly, body and soul; he wanted to consume her, and to let her consume him. He wanted to welcome her thorns with open arms and bleed out into her. He wanted to bite her until he covered her body so thoroughly in cuts that her blood rendered her supple skin unviewable, behind a shimmering scarlet mask of sacred ambrosia.

He knelt and climbed atop her. His hard cock came to rest between her hot, wet folds as her legs opened and wrapped around him once again. She was squirming eagerly beneath him, arching her back and using the strength of her legs to pull him closer.

He growled at her grinning wickedly, and grabbed her face to roughly pry her mouth open. She relaxed under him and closed her eyes. His tongue invaded her mouth, licking her lips and searching for her tongue. He let go of her face and rested his left elbow beside her head. He used his right hand to fist her hair and planted a violent kiss on her already kiss-swollen lips. Her eyes watered with pleasure as her lashes flickered shut.

She breathed tiny quiet groans into his wanting mouth as he took complete control of her lips. He tugged her head back and to the side, her hair tie falling out, and then aligned himself with her drenched core with his free hand. His teeth grazed her pulse point teasingly. He sunk both his fangs and his cock fully into her at the same time, entirely inside of her as he latched onto her throat.

She cried in pleasure as he devoured her. Her blood coated his tongue and throat while he took generous gulps, his cock twitching and growing inside her with every gulp. Tav could no longer fight back her instinct to writhe, fully expecting to receive Astarion's wrath for not keeping still - but it never came. He simply gripped her hip with his other hand and then pulled almost fully out of her before snapping his hips into her, hard.

Tav let out a needy whine and Astarion groaned in a beastly tenor into her throat. He tore his head away from her, face messy with her blood. Astarion clutched her knees and watched her as he thrust into her at a punishing pace. He slithered his left hand down to her waist and his right hand reached up to apply pressure to her fresh puncture wounds with his fingers. He wrapped his hand around her throat gently as her bleeding slowed, while he rutted into her continuously. Tav’s pussy clenched around him.

He pulled his blood-soaked hand off of her throat and stuck a bloody finger into her mouth. She obliged and sucked on his digit obediently. His cock twitched, and he pulled his finger out of her with a pop. He hooked one of her legs over his shoulder and then leaned down into her to kiss her hungrily.

Astarion tasted her blood in her mouth, and the feeling that it gave him engulfed him. He ran his hand down her body with his nails, gently scraping her skin in his wake. He reached for her clit and started rubbing it mercilessly with his fingers. She was sopping wet, and the sound of their bodies echoed through the woods.

Tav's cunt clenched, seeming to pull Astarion into her further. She groaned needily into his violent mouth before their lips came apart. Tav's face, still an abstract painting of the spattering of her own life fluid, bunched itself in pleasure as she bore into his eyes. Shamelessly, he licked a stripe on her face, lapping the combined saliva and blood.

"Hmm,” Tav hummed delightedly, a smile spreading across her face. “You're - so good - to me, Astarion," she barely managed through her shallow panting breaths. He gazed at her devotedly. His undead heart skipped a beat at her words, and he felt a fluttering feeling in his stomach; but it was coloured with an undertone of conflict. In an existence defined for centuries by the imperative for safety and solitude, the yearning and aching feelings he had for Tav were unlike anything he had ever felt; They could neither be rationalized nor ignored - they ate at him naggingly and incessantly. Something about their coupling felt alien, as if it was something not of this world. He felt an overwhelming need to merge with her, to pass through her body as if they were one and the same.

He couldn't speak, he couldn't find the words - all he could do was growl from his stomach and slam into her faster and faster, smashing his body into hers. His thoughts and feelings overcame him, and his instincts took over. He continued rubbing her clit clumsily, and her cunt fluttered around his large member, milking him and crying in pleasure.

He lost himself in her. She was everything. Astarion unhooked his arm from her leg and removed his hand from her swollen bud. He wrapped both arms fully around her torso and slammed into her aggressively. He held her crushingly once again and nudged her chin up and to the side with his head. Astarion sunk his teeth into the untouched side of her neck, drinking greedily once more. Wet slapping sounds and feral groans filled the air.

Her blood flowed into him as if it were crimson ivy, channelling pathways through the ruined stone of a long-forgotten temple, latching onto every crevasse and crumbling the structure in its wake.

Astarion stiffly snapped his hips into her one last time, reaching into her deeper than ever before as he came. He unlatched his teeth and then licked Tav's throat. A small whimper escaped her. Astarion moved inside of her, pressing his cum into her hole with his cock and then slowly pulling out. He unlatched a hand from her torso to grab his member and place it between her folds to rub on her clit. She twitched and whined at the feeling.

He unhooked his other arm from her torso and simply sandwiched his hand between her ribcage and the ground. When he saw her face, her lips were pale and she wasn't able to hold her head up.

"Shit."

Finally able to think straight, he looked down with horror at the scene - he had gotten so carried away that he’d left her drained almost entirely. Her pulse was slowing, and he surely only had a matter of minutes before it stopped completely.

In a frenzy, he ripped her bindings free with his teeth, leaving them to dangle like a bracelet off her wrist. He pulled his own shirt over her head, putting on his pants in such a hurry that he neglected to put his shoes back on at all.

He scooped Tav up bridal style, rushing back to camp, directly to Shadowheart’s tent, lest he spend the few extra moments rummaging for a scroll only to look down and find her dead on arrival. The situation was dire.

"Pst!,” he rushed, standing outside the cleric’s tent. “Shadowheart, it's Astarion - I need your help, it's - it’s an emergency!" His voice trembled as he spoke.

Shadowheart groaned as she opened her tent flap. Astarion crawled into her tent with Tav in his arms while Shadowheart yawned and rubbed her eyes. She sat cross-legged across from Astarion. It took a moment for her eyes to focus, and to realize what lay in front of her.

Astarion sat on his heels, mouth still messily covered in blood - Shirtless, covered in dirt, sweat, and utterly damning evidence.

Tav lay completely limp in his arms, face and neck equally bloodied. Her throat was adorned with multitudinous hickies, and her lips were pale. Tav wore a piece of fabric around her wrist that dangled downwards about 6 inches, and her other wrist had a friction burn all around it as well as a bite covered with crusty blood. And, most ruinously, she wore nothing aside from the apologetic afterthought of Astarion’s shirt to hide her modesty.

It hadn't occurred to Astarion how bad this looked on him until now. Still, it was more important that Tav get the help she needed.

"Gods! What have you done to her, Astarion!?" Shadowheart raised her voice.

"Shh, we don't need everyone in camp bringing pitchforks to your tent right now - just please help Tav. I can explain," he said sincerely. His brows pinched up in a frown as he hung his head, mortified.

"Alright, but you’d better have a good excuse,” Shadowheart scolded. “I swear - if she wakes and tells me that your abuse was unwelcome, I will not hesitate to incinerate you."

"Ignis" a small flame appeared on her finger and she lit 2 candles in her tent.

She channelled bright blue energy into her body. The tent glowed cobalt and a sound similar to wind chimes filled the air. Shadowheart closed her eyes and raised one hand to face herself before chanting her incantation.

"Te absolvo."

The blue light encased Tav and her body twitched. The light faded and the colour slowly started coming back to her face.

Astarion let out a sigh of relief and he pulled Tav tightly into his arms, giving her a desperate hug. He rocked her back and forth in his arms and closed his eyes when he placed his chin over her shoulder and snuggled it into her.

Tav came to slowly and began to hug him back, squeezing him weakly and nudging her head towards his.

"Ahem," Shadowheart cleared her throat, "I hate to break up your reunion after Astarion nearly murdered you, but I do feel as if I am owed an explanation."

Astarion placed a firm kiss on Tav's head and he lowered her down. He held her under her armpits like a doll while he moved his legs to sit cross-legged, using his free arm to maintain balance. He then sat Tav upon his lap, facing Shadowheart.

Tav yawned, rubbed her eyes, and lolled her head back to his shoulder with closed eyes.

Astarion had hooked his arm around her waist to hold her steady. He hesitantly began to explain.

"Well, we decided to duel - for innocent fun - and got a bit carried away. Are you satisfied?"

"It seems as though you were the one that got carried away, Astarion. I don't see any bindings around your wrists. And where are her . . . garments? Actually, never mind; I don’t think I want to know." Shadowheart frowned deeply. "But Tav is riddled with bites, blood, and hickies. Gods, Astarion! If it wasn’t for her looking so comfortable with you, I would have killed you already."

"You could try, but I'll have you know I don't die easily these days," he said, screwing his face up defensively.

Tav winced. "Stop fighting, please." She clenched her right fist, grimacing as the wound left by the bite mark twinged. She looked up at Shadowheart. "Astarion and I made love. He tied me up because he thought I was going to be a sore loser after he won our fight, and then we made love on the forest floor."

The tent was blanketed in an awkward silence.

"Oh, don't tell me you've never been tied up and fucked before, Shadowheart. I know how Sharrans are."

Shadowheart's mouth fell agape and she paused. Her brows knitted together in a downwards cant.

"Just go."

Tav and Astarion shared a glance. They nodded at one another and then got up to exit Shadowheart's tent. Astarion offered Tav a hand and she obliged. She stumbled out of the tent like a newborn doe.

Tav offered him her wrist with the tie on it. “Help, please.” She smiled.

“Oh - yes.” He took her wrist gently and then expertly untied the knot before dropping the fabric on the ground.

‘Made love.’ Astarion reflected on Tav’s words. An electric feeling spread across his body and Tav’s blood rushed to his face. He suddenly found himself unable to breathe, not that he needed to anyway. He stood eerily still while zoning out into the embers of the snuffed fire pit. The full moon’s light wrapped around them like a veil.

“Astarion.” Tav grabbed his hand gently and stood between him and the embers. “Shall we go bathe in the river?” She smiled, searching for his eyes.

He paused and his mouth fell agape, and his brows angled downwards. He gazed back up at her before painting a disingenuous smile on his lips.

“Yes, of course.” He squeezed her hand.

“Come on.” Tav cheered as she led him towards the river.

‘Made love.’ The word replayed in his head over and over. ‘Is that,- is this what love is?’ The thoughts overwhelmed him. ‘Does she love me? Do I love her?’

He walked behind Tav with his head to the ground all the way to the riverside. When they had finally reached the water, he looked up to see the dark silhouette of Tav in front of the slow-moving water where the moonlight danced.

Tav lifted his shirt off of herself and plopped it on the large rock beside her, facing the water while taking a deep breath of the cool night air, her shoulders rising and falling. She stepped forward to dip her toes in the water, and then she slowly walked until she was waist-deep before looking back to Astarion who was standing there, watching her.

Astarion briefly witnessed Tav’s back, which was adorned with some sort of abstract pattern, not much unlike Astarion’s. He couldn’t quite make out if it was a tattoo pertaining to her heritage, or perhaps a birthmark. Tav’s hair dropped onto her back, covering most of it.

Astarions stomach tied a knot, and his heart felt as if it were about to burst out of his chest. His eyes were round and his lips were slightly parted. He felt frozen, like a deer in the headlights.

“The water is surprisingly warm compared to usual. Maybe it’s just because I’m so cold,” she giggled. She made a few more steps into the water and then submerged her wrists, causing her to wince in pain once more.

Astarion blinked himself back into the present when he heard her inhaling sharply through her teeth. He rushed his bottoms off and then hastily strode to catch up to her in the water, trailing white bubbles behind him.

“We should get you some healing potions after we’re done here.” He came up to rest a hand on her shoulder.

“No, I’m fine. I don’t want it,” she retorted.

This again. Tav’s ludicrous notion that pain would bring her peace, and somehow rest her mind. But Astarion knew pain; and he knew that wasn’t right.

“Tav,” he murmured, tilting his head to her and placing a tender hand on her cheek. “Please - let me help you.”

Tav simply frowned and looked away. She turned and plunged into the river, leaving Astarion with his hand in the air.

She disappeared under the water, but Astarion could hear her heart beating. He grinned and then sunk into the water slowly. He swam towards the sound of her thumping pulse, holding his unnecessary breath. He opened his eyes underwater and Tav swam to where her toes could barely touch the rocks at the bottom before she came up for a gasp of air.

She scrubbed the blood off of her face with her hands and then ran her fingers through her soaking hair.

Astarion sunk as low as possible in the water with empty lungs, swimming towards Tav. In one quick motion, he gained purchase on her ankle and pulled her below the surface.

He pulled her body under him with his tricep and grasped at her waist, forcing her lower. The water bubbled violently around her, obscuring her vision.

Astarion positioned them so they were upright underwater and facing one another. It was then that he pulled her in for a closed-mouth smooch, to which she reciprocated.

He swam them up to the surface and Tav gasped for air. They both grinned widely, and Tav’s brows raised.

“You little shit!” She splashed him in the face and he scrunched his features in response.

“It’s not my fault you’re such easy prey,” Astarion smirked, tilting his head down at her.

“You’re too fun. It’s becoming surprisingly harder for me to keep my guard up around you,” she stated.

Astarion blinked at her for a moment. Is that what this feeling is?

Her eyes closed and her face softened as she leaned in for a kiss. Their lips locked and they kissed slowly; strikingly different from their coupling in the forest, this was nice - comforting and peaceful.

Tav brought her legs up to straddle Astarion under the water. He held her with one hand on her bum and the other on the small of her back. Their embrace was languid and passionate.

When the kiss broke, their foreheads leaned on one another’s. Astarion closed his eyes. Within him was a burning chapel, crumbling to ash and set ablaze by the very person in his arms. He couldn’t speak even if he tried.

Tav placed her hand on his cheek, snaking it below his ear and rubbing her thumb on his cheekbone affectionately. They breathed in each other as they held one another in blissful silence.

Astarion felt his eyes begin to water, unbidden. He could feel Tav’s eyes on him, so he quickly dipped his head to her shoulder.

There was nothing about this that felt wrong - everything about this felt right, but within that there was discomfort. Astarion wanted to drown himself in his tears. Perhaps, he thought, this is what Tav feels when she seeks peace in her own pain.

Astarion couldn’t help but choke out a sob into Tav’s shoulder. She replied by squeezing him so tight that it pushed the air out of his lungs. She didn’t demand an explanation; she didn’t reject him; she simply held him, and held space for him.

The space between them was inconceivable. They couldn’t feel where one of them began and the other ended. Their bodies alloyed together like copper and iron.

Astarion wept into Tav, and Tav enveloped Astarion.

“Shh, you’re okay. I’m here.” Tav cooed, caressing the back of Astarion’s head. “I’m here.”

Astarion sighed and pulled his head back from Tav. He looked at her with a deep frown. She brought her thumb up and wiped his tears away.

“Hey,” she exclaimed, “you’re always safe to be like this around me. I hope you know that.”

Astarion paused, looking up at Tav with round eyes.

Tav started, “I - I’m not the best at this. I’m sorry. Just anytime you want to talk, or if you just want someone to be with you. You don’t have to deal with this alone.”

Astarion felt the cool, shallow waves wash over him. “I want to be the same for you.” He looked down, his brows canted upwards desperately. “I - I don’t know what this means, and I don’t understand what I’m feeling, but I do know that I want you by my side,” he said as his gaze shifted upwards to meet hers.

Tav smiled. “I want to be by your side as well.”

The water trickled through the canal and chimed on the shoreline. The light of the moon glistened on the water peaks. And there was Tav. Someone to rely on, perhaps even someone to trust.

“We should wash up, there’s still a bit of blood on your face.” Tav scrunched her brows and brought a wet hand to swipe the last bits of blood off of Astarion’s lips.

Astarion nodded in agreement and he splashed water onto the sides of Tav’s neck. Her flesh had been ravished, she adorned a necklace of purple and red bruises.

“You must drink a healing potion,” Astarion spoke softly.

“Astarion, I’ll be okay. I’ll explain to the others like I explained to Shadowheart, and everything will be fine.”

Astarion laughed in her face. “Firstly, I doubt they will take it as well as Shadowheart did, and that’s saying something. Secondly, it’s not about the other’s, darling, it’s about you. You must heal.”

“I’m sure I’ll feel better by tomorrow,” she said, downturning her lips.

“Is that what you want? To feel better?” Astarion spoke gently. “A health potion would make you feel better. You’re not fooling me, dear.”

“Well I just don’t want to waste supplies - and I can handle pain better than everyone in camp, I’m sure.” She gleamed, glazing herself up.

His face screwed up, “You are not a waste!” he growled at her. “I will not be speaking on this any further. Come, let’s go.”

She huffed in defeat as he carried her in his arms back to shore.

Her feet planted on the ground and she squeezed the water out of her hair. Astarion did the same by brushing his hair back with his fingers and shaking the water droplets off of his hand. He grabbed his pants and Tav threw his shirt over her head.

They held hands as they made their way back to Tav’s tent so that she could first grab her blankets and pillows before heading to Astarion’s tent for the night.

Tav led the way to Astarion’s tent. When they arrived, Astarion started organizing their things.

“Ignis.” he chanted, lighting a couple of candles with a small flame on his finger.

They worked together to carefully lay the blankets out, and Astarion searched his pack for a spare set of night clothes and a towel or two for him and Tav to share. He felt around his pack, hearing the clinking of bottles. Astarion pulled bottles out of his bag, examining each one before putting them back, until he found a red bottle with a cork enclosure. He set it aside and pulled his night clothes and towels from his bag.

Astarion handed a towel to Tav and she patted her hair dry with it. Astarion followed and ran his towel down his legs and over his shoulders before changing into his camp clothes. He then continued tidying up his pack as he sat on his heels.

“Your scars,” Tav started, “Do they mean something?”

Astarion turned his head from his pack to face Tav and he cringed.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I’m sorry.” Tav hung her head in shame.

Astarion took a deep breath and sighed. “It’s alright, your concern for me is adorable. In due time, my sweet. Tonight, I am more concerned about you.”

Astarion fisted a health potion and turned around completely to face Tav.

“You must drink this,” he ordered, shifting towards her and handing her the bottle.

Tav shimmied uncomfortably and sat with straight legs atop their blankets. “I told you already that I don’t need it.” Her face scrunched in annoyance.

“Fine,” he said. “If you want to make things difficult, then so be it.”

Tav watched with intrigue as Astarion uncorked the bottle and then poured half of it into his mouth. He set the bottle down and crawled over to her. The heels of her hands moved from her lap to press into the ground behind her as Astarion proceeded to mount her. Tav’s face and ears turned a deep shade of crimson and she stared up at Astarion as his face hovered above hers.

Astarion wrapped his arm around her torso, locking her arms to her ribcage. With his free hand, he grabbed Tav’s cheeks and pressed on her mandible with his fingers and thumb to pry her maw open. Tav’s eyes were wide as she watched him come closer.

Tav’s lip came apart and Astarion connected his mouth with her’s. The warm healing liquid poured from his mouth into hers. Tav closed her eyes and accepted her fate as she started swallowing the sweet liquid. Astarion could hear her heart racing - Gods, she was perfect.

He loosened his grip and started rubbing large, soothing circles on her back. Her lips were so warm and wet, that Astarion found it challenging to let go, but he did. Their noses folded against one another and their foreheads pressed together. Astarion tilted her head with a knuckle and placed a chaste kiss on her lips.

Astarion pulled away. “Good girl. Now will you finish the bottle or am I going to have to be creative again?” He smirked.

Tav squirmed under him and her nipples hardened visibly through the shirt that she was wearing.

Astarion reached back to grasp the bottle. “Open,” he commanded.

Tav’s eyelids were heavy with lust. She obeyed. She tilted her head back, and softly stuck out her tongue.

“That’s it,” he praised.

He started to slowly pour the liquid into her mouth. “Good girl. I’m so proud of you.”

Tav suddenly closed her mouth and swallowed. Astarion accidentally spilled some potion on her face and chest. His pants began to tighten.

Her eyes were wet and her chest was heaving. Her wounds looked almost entirely healed, other than some red dry skin where the puncture marks used to be.

Astarion mindlessly nudged the neckline of her shirt with a finger and it fell off of one shoulder, exposing the curve of her breast. He hastily placed the bottle down and leaned over to lick the spilled potion off of her chest. He grasped her ribcage with his left hand, and the back of her head with his right. He then licked up her neck to her face and mouth, making sure to clean all the leftover potion from her skin.

Tav’s mouth flew open and Astarion pulled her into a smouldering kiss. He lifted himself without breaking the kiss so that he could reposition himself between her legs before having her lie back on the pillow behind her. He reached his right arm down to her exposed heat and he searched through her folds with needy digits. She was remarkably wet.

Tav moaned deeply and bucked her hips forward, searching for more, but Astarion simply teased her folds with his fingers.

He broke the kiss and caressed her damp hair with his left hand. Tav’s lips were kiss-swollen and her skin glistened in the candlelight.

Astarion pulled back from her and grabbed the potion once again. This time, without having to ask, Tav opened her mouth as she did before. He poured the rest of the potion into her mouth and she swallowed eagerly. Astarion placed the empty bottle on the side of the bedrolls.

Tav’s legs were spread wide and her feet dangled in the air. She sat back on her elbows as she stared at Astarion with parted lips and knitted brows.

Astarion rewarded her by plunging two fingers inside her wanting hole. Tav’s mouth opened in a sensual “O,” her wet eyes and wet cunt both fluttering as she began grinding into Astarion’s hand.

Astarion groaned and then pulled his fingers out, leaving Tav empty and whining. He lifted his shirt over his head and threw it to the side. Astarion stood up and pulled his pants down. He threw his pants where his shirt had been thrown, and then he kneeled to Tav. His cock was already wet with precum dripping from the tip.

Tav reached down to play with her clit. She was rubbing firm circles on herself and she threw her head back. Astarion felt heat pooling in his lower abdomen at the sight of Tav. He threw his head back as well and then placed the head of his cock at the entrance of her hole. He stroked himself as his tip teased her folds.

Astarion groaned and grabbed the back of Tav’s thigh with his left hand. He stuck the whole of his tip into her and continued pleasuring himself. He looked down to where their bodies connected and his girth grew incredibly hard.

Tav was panting and Astarion was covered in sweat. Tav arched her hips into Astarion and captured his full length inside of her in one quick movement.

Astarion let out a deep sigh and he let go of his shaft. He reached to her clit and nudged her hand away before beginning to stroke her clit persistently.

Tav contorted and whined but Astarion did not stop playing with her. Her cunt clenched around him and her breath sped up to a dangerous pace.

“Astarion - I’m cumming!” She screamed, her body tensing like a longbow.

Tav’s cunt contracted around Astarion and he growled at the feeling, her pussy milking him. Her body went limp on the bedroll and her hole gushed spend down his shaft.

He reached for a pillow and placed it under her bum, The new angle allowing him to reach deeper than before.

Astarion glanced down and spat on Tav’s swollen bud. He pulled out and ran his cock along her saliva-covered clit, causing her to whine desperately before thrusting back inside her fully.

Tav hummed and wiggled her hips. Her body had completely relaxed.

Astarion began to thrust into her at an invariable pace. His grasp on her hips was tight, making indentations in her flesh. Lewd wet sounds echoed through the camp.

He stuffed her so deeply that his tip hugged her cervix with every snap of his hips. He used his grasp on her hips to cinch her onto his length, Tav’s tits bounced under her shirt at each pump. Her face was contorted in pleasure and her breath picked up again.

She lay like a precious doll, letting him fuck her hole to his heart’s content. Their juices seeped out the sides of his penetrating cock. The sight pulled Astarion deeper into his fuck drunken stupor.

Astarion's pace quickened and he fucked Tav hard, slamming into her punishingly.

A raging coil built within him. His hips faltered and then snapped into her, sheathing himself to the hilt. His breath stuttered as pleasure erupted from his chest and reverberated throughout his body. Thick, hot ropes of spend shot into Tav, coating her plush walls. He groaned needily and came forward, hanging his head. His whole body was moist with sweat. He stayed connected with Tav as he leaned into her, hovering over her on his elbows.

Tav’s cheeks were rosy. ‘The picture of health,’ Astarion thought. The pair took a moment to deeply gaze into one another’s eyes, searching, panting. Within Tav’s iris lay the storms of Saturn, violently rippling. Destruction and rebirth in every fleeting moment. On the surface, he saw nothing. There was no reflection gazing back at him, only the hypnotizing depths of her pupils which bloomed like chrysanthemums.

He wished he could see what she saw. He wanted to understand why she wanted him. After Cazador, he felt like an empty shell. Could one love a being so hollow? Love. Astarion didn’t know love. He had read about it in books, and had his victims sob to him drunkenly about husbands or wives. Love sounded painful and finite. Love sounded like a pool of crimson to drown in until your lungs fill as you inevitably succumb to your folly. The way he had seen it described was as if love were in every being, or that the universe itself were made of love.

‘Does Bhaal love his children? Did Cazador love his spawn? Am I loved? Am I capable of love?’

Another wave of overwhelming vibrations surged through his body. These thoughts made his stomach knot and his shoulders stiffen.

He rested his head on the pillow beside Tav as he completely collapsed on her, sighing on his decline. He fully embraced Tav in his arms, and she weakly hugged him back, running her hands gently along his mountainous scars.

The intimacy made him feel so whole, but so pathetic. He wanted to look into Tav’s soul without crumbling, as she did his. In times like these, he didn’t know when she could be ripped from him. It felt as if at any moment, she could decide she didn’t want to be around a snivelling mess like him anymore, and decide to up and leave him in the woods for the Gur to find.

She could choose Gale, or Shadowheart, or anyone else, and he couldn’t stop her. She had him in the palm of her hand and could destroy him, but for now, she chose to cherish him. Him - the hollow and hungry vampire who simultaneously knew only what it meant to give and what it meant to take; a transaction. That’s what he’d been for two hundred years, leaving a paper trail of victims in his wake. Forced to be a monster, and to do the bidding of an even more sinister monster.

There was a light, a single star. One final glimmer of hope. The tadpoles. The thing that granted him the ability to walk in the sun, to defy Cazador, and the thing that led him to Tav in the first place.

Tav, who was slowly drifting to sleep beneath him. Her breathing was restful and her arms held him softly.

Astarion pulled out of Tav and grabbed one of their towels from earlier. They were still damp and had to be hung outside, but he used it to clean Tav’s weeping core. She rested peacefully with open legs as he gently wiped their combined spend from her supple skin. Tav hummed happily.

He took the same towel and wiped himself thoroughly. He stalked outside of his tent and hung the towel on a line beside his other garments. He returned to the tent and Tav had rolled to her side and was looking at him. One of her hands was between her thighs for warmth, and the other was under her pillow. Her eyes were sleepy and wet.

Tav yawned and then patted the spot on the bed beside her, inviting Astarion to join her in respite.

“Let’s get you under the blankets, darling.” He frowned.

Tav sat up near her pillow, and then pulled the covers over herself, air bubbled under the sheets as they settled around her form. Astarion climbed in next to her and used a silver snuffer to snuff the candles out. Tav laid to face the back of his tent, and her back faced him.

Astarion shuffled in beside her, gazing at her back. Recalling what he’d seen down by the river, he noticed a collection of large scars that ran from either shoulder and crisscrossed in the centre. He tenderly ran his fingers down the scars, and Tav didn’t budge. They felt larger and more raised than his. These were no battle scars. Somebody had done this to her.

Red rage filled his mind. Her situation was worse than he thought. Pain was a tool for her, and a tool that was used on her, many times. To make her docile? To punish her? To bring others peace?

He wondered if the reason for the scars was the same reason why Tav felt comfort in her pain. Perhaps it was something used against her so frequently that it left a void when it was taken away. A void like the one within him.

Astarion wanted answers to his questions, he wanted to know who hurt her, and he wanted to make them pay.

But for now, she rests, and Astarion will embrace her until the sun gleams over the horizon.

‘I want to be your peace.’

___________

Notes: Oof, that was a doozy. I did get very carried away with this one. Now I know why other writers say that on here LOL. I know it seems like I've set this up to have more chapters, but I don't think I am ready to create muti-chaptered works yet. Also, I hate goodbyes and endings so I will just edge everyone for now. LOVE YOU! SMOOCHIES!

#astarion smut #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion fluff #astarion x original female character #astarion x reader #bg3 #astarion x female tav

223 notes · View notes

macabr3-barbi3 · 6 days

Text

dream a little dream (of me) - chapter 3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54459367/chapters/140496796

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

You were bound to break a term of the deal eventually, right?

we've hit chapter 3! I got a huge influx of people interested and loving this story and I finally got the inspiration and drive to bang the next chapter out for everyone 🤭 there's going to be more coming, I do as the brain commands lol

A big shoutout to @fraugwinska for being like my number 1 hype person on this fic, you are a godsend 💕

And for those who asked to be tagged when the new chapter went up! @spottypug @dennsfz @bishiglomper @ivebeenthearchersstuff

Same tags as chapter 1/2 plus a couple new ones: Dream Sex, Dreamsharing, Vaginal Sex, Cunnilingus, Rough Sex, Dreamwalking, blowjobs, 'punishment' wink wink, minor injuries, let me know if I missed anything lol

I love comments and feedback, I would love to know what you think ❤️ enjoy!

The shock on Husk’s face at seeing you inside Alastor’s room when the door flies open a few days after the camping trip is matched only by yours- the horror you’re sure is written in your expression at the pool of blood accumulating under Alastor’s body where Angel Dust is supporting him with an arm around his waist, a smoking gash across his middle.

“The fuck are you doing in here?”

“What the fuck happened?”

You speak at the same time, voices overlapping as Husk shoves the door to the room further open to make room for Angel to drag Alastor inside. He’s also coated in blood down one side, likely having been supporting Alastor’s weight from the other side to drag him up the stairs.

Alastor’s eyes are clenched shut, smile more like a grimace as he snarls at Angel Dust trying to get his feet underneath himself. “I do not need any assistance, spider, release me-”

“Sure, Smiles, tell me all about it. Ya can’t even fuckin’ stand up without ya gangly ass legs collapsin’, how else were we supposed to get ya here?” Angel has also just noticed your presence in the room as you rush over, pleased smirk taking over his features. “I fuckin’ told you there was somethin’ goin’ on with them, Husk!”

“Shut the hell up, Angel,” Husk mutters, grabbing Alastor by the ankles and helping the other demon get him to the bed, despite Alastor fighting like a wild cat the whole time. You follow closely, hovering anxiously next to the mattress. They drop him unceremoniously, causing him to hiss in pain before the wound starts gushing again. “You,” Husk says, fluffy finger pointed in your face. “You stay here with him. Make sure he doesn’t fuckin’ bleed out or anything. Angel, you go tell Charlie and Vaggie what happened. I’ll get the med kit.”

“Wait, Husk” you say as he and Angel both step away, and there’s a hard grip on your wrist from Alastor when you start to follow them. “Just one sec,” you tell the demon- a great idea, with how known he was for his patience and understanding- and pull out of his grasp, hurrying after the other two. You catch Husk at the door, Angel taking off to find Charlie. “What happened to him?”

“Got into it with Vox, what else? Those fuckin’ overlord meetings are just trouble waitin’ to happen if you ask me, never would’ve caught my ass at one of them.” He runs a frustrated hand down his face. “We couldn’t get much out of his besides that, figured it would be best to get him to his room before anyone else saw him stumblin’ around the lobby.”

“Fuck.” You glance over at him, splayed across the mattress, an arm over his eyes. “Can’t he heal on his own? I thought regeneration was all the rage down here.”

“He’s been fucked since that battle with Adam- angelic steel right to the chest, did something to his body and he doesn’t heal as quick anymore. Some stitches should get him right for at least a little while.” A dark eye watches you from Husk’s peripheral. “I don’t know what you’re doing gettin’ all buddy-buddy with him but you watch yourself. We’re not all fuckin’ stupid- somethin’s up, we saw the goddamn vampire bite on your neck after camping-”

“Are there vampires in Hell?”

“Not the goddamn point. The point is be careful and don’t fuck anyone else over in the process of whatever the hell you two’re doing.” He points back into the bedroom. “Now go stand guard or whatever you do until I can stitch him up.” Husk is off then, jogging in the opposite direction that Angel had gone. You leave the door unlocked and cracked so he can get back in when he returns and go back to Alastor’s side in the bed.

His face is sweaty, eyes still clenched shut in pain, but one of his ears perks back up when he hears you come closer. “Pay no mind to those idiots,” he mutters. “I will be perfectly fine in a matter of hours. Do not let them back in.” He waves a hand lazily, the door slamming shut with a bang.

“Yeah the smoking hole in your chest gives me a lot of confidence to that. I’m not going to stop them from helping you.” You hesitate only a second before reaching out to his shirt buttons. “Let me- you’ll need this off for Husk to stitch you up.” He’s uncharacteristically quiet as you undo the buttons and slide the shirt sideways as carefully as possible to clear some space for the cat to work. You brush against his ribs and there’s a sharp inhale, Alastor’s nostrils flaring and claws digging into the sheets.

There’s a knock at the door and when you move to go open it there’s again a hand wrapped around your wrist. “Stay,” Alastor says, looking like it pains him to say it. A strip of shadow darts across the room to open the door in your stead, Husk coming back through the frame and raising an eyebrow at the sight of you still seated beside the demon.

“Charlie and Vaggie know what happened and will check on you tomorrow. Angel went to shower. Let’s get this fuckin’ over with.” He settles on the other side of you, and Alastor releases his grip on your hand to clench them into the bedsheets as Husk starts to drag the needle through his skin.

A good bit of swear words and a loosely wrapped bandage later, Alastor is patched up and passed out on his mattress. “Where did you learn to do stitches?”

“I don’t know, not really. Winged it. Just knew he wouldn’ want anyone else to see him like he is now. Vulnerable; weak. Benefit to him to have me under his thumb, I can’t run my fuckin’ mouth or use it against him.” He eyes you. “I assume you have no problem stayin’ to monitor him? With the stitches he should be good to go by mornin’ but you’ll want to watch him through the night.”

You could revive your old sleep habits and keep awake through one evening. “Yeah, I can stay. And Husk, it’s really not what you’re thinking-”

“Don’t care. Not my business. Make sure he doesn’t die- who fuckin’ knows what happens to my soul if that happens.” Husk gathers his materials and leaves the room, making sure to close and lock the door behind him.

You wander the room for a while trying to find a way to entertain yourself. He only has a couple books in the room- ones you’ve already read before- and despite your interest in the bayou dimension you don’t want to wander too far away from him. Eventually you pick a book and drag the armchair over to the bed, settling in and keeping an eye on the movements of his chest. He seems to be doing well, despite being weak and injured, no blood yet seeping through the bandages on his chest.

You do so well for a while without getting tired before the siren song of sleep starts to pull at your eyelids. You combat it as best you can- you pace the room, do push ups and jumping jacks, try counting backwards from one thousand. It doesn’t help, and you find yourself curled up in the armchair next to the bed, eyes drifting shut and not opening again.

When the world of Alastor’s dreams comes to fruition, you’re once again just in his bedroom, the only difference being a slightly darker tone to the light. His eyebrows raise when he sees you. “Well! Fancy meeting you here, darling.”

“I’m sorry, I was trying to stay awake out there to keep an eye on you-”

He waves you down. “No worries, dear. I told you before the stitches that I would be fine, that remains true. I cannot fault you for falling asleep on duty when you’ve not been accustomed to staying awake during the evenings any longer.”

A sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. I was-”

“Ah ah ah,” he interrupts, and with a shifting shadow he stands before you, trailing a finger down your throat. “That is not to say that I’m not upset with you for something else.” He circles you, eyes lidded and smile teasing. “Need I remind you again of the terms of our deal?”

“What?” Something slips around your wrist, almost like the feeling of Alastor’s fingers but softer, and you glance down to see one of his shadows. His meaning dawns on you. “Wait, Alastor, I didn’t- I’m not here on purpose, I-”

“Ahhh but that wasn’t a condition, was it? It is only allowed with my permission , dear, and I must say I can’t recall giving that to you!” Another shadow wraps itself around your thighs, buckling your legs and bringing you to your knees; he runs a hand gently along the top of your head, tipping your head up to meet his gaze. “I’m afraid discipline is in order.” With a wave of his finger Alastor’s armchair is behind him, settling into it as his tentacles make themselves at home across your body, holding you in place where you now sit on your knees, Alastor’s hand still cupped under your chin. “I think a spanking will do.”

Your body jerks where you’re held. “I’m not a child.”

“This may seem a bit tame,” he admits, expression pensive, “but sometimes the classics can be rather effective! Here’s the plan-” The tentacles shift, bending you at the waist so your chin rests nearly on Alastor’s knee. “You’ve done rather well so far so I won’t be cruel . I think ten strikes should be sufficient. You’ll count them aloud, and should you miss one we will start over. How does that sound fair?”

“Alastor-”

The first strike is over your clothing, Alastor cocking his head when you try to move away from the faint sting of it. “Surely you know how to count, dearest.” Your clothes seem to melt off your body, goosebumps erupting on your skin at the chill in the air. When you don’t respond he sighs, his smile almost condescending. “Oh well; I suppose it can’t be helped. We begin again.”

The tentacle strikes again, a sharp snap that has you hissing through your teeth. Not knowing what else you can do, you decide to just submit- how bad can ten simple swats with a tentacle really hurt? “One,” you mutter, and Alastor’s eyes light up now that you’re willing to play his game.

He cups his hand around the back of your head, and you tilt into his palm. “Perfect. Good girl. Go ahead.”

A gentle whoosh through the air, and another blow to the soft skin of your ass. “T- two,” you say, gritting your teeth against the vague ache. It’s not terribly painful; it’s more the humiliation of it than anything else, but not being able to see it coming contributes to the sting. “Fuck!” Another that you didn’t anticipate. “Three.”

Alastor uses the light pressure of his hand to tilt your head to meet his eyes. “Perhaps I’m just old fashioned,” he says softly, “but I don’t believe ‘fuck’ is a number. Start again.”

You feel the sting of frustrated tears. “Alastor, please.”

He brushes them away with a claw. “Come now, darling, no need for that. You can count to ten, can’t you? Why, it’s easy as can be and then we can be done with this business.”

So he makes you start again- and now for a third time when you can’t stop the whine in your throat from distorting the ‘eight’ into a broken groan. The spanks hadn’t been really painful before but as the punishment continued and the same spots were struck over and over you had become sore, and every new blow stung and ached like nothing else.

And yet- maybe its the position, or the utter helplessness of what’s happening with Alastor in control but there’s that familiar burn in your core, slick arousal from your cunt slipping down your thighs and out of sight of the demon before you.

Your eyes had drifted closed at some point, neck eventually losing the strength to hold itself up and pressing into the fabric of Alastor’s trousers. When he makes a curious humming noise you let your lashes flutter back open. His eyes are dark, pupils blown and his smile dangerous as he looks down at you with lidded eyes. “You know, if you’re having such trouble counting I may have a better use for that lovely mouth of yours, darling.” A brief respite from the tentacles, at least, as he repositions you with his hands to bring your face to the erection that’s grown in his lap. “This isn’t my punishment, after all; I don’t see why I should have to suffer now. How’s this- I’ll count for you, and you keep your mouth otherwise occupied, hm?”

You don’t bother trying to speak, instead just nodding in his gentle hold. He smiles, a little softer then, another quietly uttered “good girl” before he’s undoing his pants and pulling his cock out, presenting it to you and slowly guiding it into your waiting mouth.

He’s not demanding about it, lets you take your time in getting your lips wrapped around the head, fingers brushing delicately through your hair. The position isn’t perfect, and not having use of your hands is a bit of a nuisance but you can move your head enough to take some of his length into the warm, wet cavern of your mouth. You swipe your tongue along what you can reach of the underside of him and he hisses above you, pulling you back with a soft fisting of your hair until you can only reach the tip.

“We’ll continue now, my dear. Be mindful of your teeth, please.” And he slides back in with a simultaneous strike of one of the tentacles. “One.”

Somehow the childish punishment is easier to take with Alastor’s cock in your mouth. You still jerk in the hold of the tentacles when you’re hit, but your whimpers and cries of pain are muffled, the vibrations of it serving a greater purpose now in bringing Alastor pleasure. You make it to seven before a particular hard spank jolts you forward, prick shoving harder into your mouth and hitting the back of your throat. The constriction that happens when you inadvertently gag a bit makes a harsh moan tumble out of Alastor’s mouth, his fingers tightening their grip in your hair. “Fuck-”

You pull off enough to speak, lips brushing the tip as you do. “Thought ‘fuck’ wasn’t a number.”

“Wretched, delightful thing,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb against your cheek. “You raise a valid point, but I think we’ve drawn this out long enough- you’ve learned your lesson?” A nod from you, lips once again covering him and tongue swirling around the head. “Lovely,” he sighs. “Then we’ll make this last bit quick.”

He shifts forward in the armchair, enough that he’s now fully inside of your mouth and each lazy thrust of his hips bumps the back of your throat. He gives himself time to savor the feeling of you sucking and licking at him, throat constricting each time he bottoms out, in between swats from the tentacles. “Eight. Nine. Ten.” Your hands are released from their restraints, and rather than bringing them to your throbbing clit like you desperately want to, cunt drenched and ready for something more, you instead bring them to Alastor’s lap, repositioning yourself to better choke on his length. You let your teary eyes drift up to his face, his eyes lidded where he stares down at you, smile tight and tense. “Wonderfully done, sweetheart. I need only a moment more- may I?” He fists his hands in your hair on either side of your head and you let your mouth go slack, allowing him to thrust in and back out at his own leisure.

You can feel under your hands the flexing of the muscles in his forearm and wish that he would take off his goddamn shirt- get undressed in one of these dreams, just something so you weren’t the only one exposed and vulnerable.

“Magic in dreams doesn’t count, I rather think; it seems that you can do it as well.”

You think about what Alastor had said while camping- how your pants had simply vanished with a thought, the mere desire. You’d never really tried much with your dream powers. You just showed up and tried not to be spotted whenever you were in one, or got the information you were looking for and left. It hadn’t occurred to you until Alastor had said something that you might be able to do more , to use the power for something else.

So while Alastor grows more desperate in his race to completion, fucking your mouth with renewed fervor, you concentrate on the buttons of his shirt. You don’t want to alert him to what you’re trying to do- he’d probably take offense to the fact that you aren’t as wholly engrossed in letting him use your mouth as he likes, might even start the whole punishment over again after he came. So you let your vocal chords do as they please while he ruts into the hole you’ve provided for him, soft moans and whimpers to distract him a bit.

The top button twists, and slowly, silently, pulls itself from the hole it was fastened into. A slight shift of your eyes and the second one follows.

The mere possibilities of what you could do with this information makes you moan, long and low and vibrating hard around Alastor’s cock. Already close, the sensation makes him buck his hips hard, spewing curses as he spends himself in the warm and wet heat of your mouth. You’ve hardly had a chance to swallow- the taste and feeling not awful but just a little strange- before he’s yanking you up from the floor, pulling you into his lap and crushing his lips to yours. His hands come to rest on your thighs, traveling slowly upwards until he meets the welts that his tentacles have left on your skin. You hiss into his mouth at the sting of it, and he kisses you gently while massaging the sensitive skin. You distract yourself with popping another button on his shirt, a motion that goes unnoticed by Alastor in favor of switching between kissing you and watching your face while he touches you.

The rush of it eventually slows and stops, content to just sit there together for a bit with him unaware of the 6 buttons you had managed to get undone. Unlike the other times you’ve met in his dreams you aren’t simply shoved out this time- Alastor wakes up slowly and groggily, like anyone else would, and you open your eyes at the same time. He spots you in the armchair and moves to the side, clearing up a space beside him. “Come over here, dear,” he says, and you’re helpless to disobey.

Sitting up in the armchair you become aware of two things- that the welts and likely bruises from the tentacles had carried over into real life, as did the slick arousal and throbbing need in your cunt, suddenly desperate to be filled with Alastor- not just in a dream but here, now.

You stand from the chair and to the demon’s surprise, slip your bottoms and panties off before climbing into the bed and settling yourself against his side. He turns to face you, face twisting in slight pain when the wound on his chest shifts, but he trails his fingers down the slope of your neck, over the curve of your hip, finally dipping between your legs and feeling how wet you’ve become from allowing him to be in control of you. “We may have to find a new punishment for you, dearest, if this is how you react to this method.”

“Please, Alastor,” you say, reaching a hand down to his lap and pleased to find that while he’s been spent in the dream, his erection here in the real world is eager to go again. You slip your fingers under the band of his trousers, circle them around his cock with a light squeeze. “Please, I need it- not in the dream but here, real . Please?”

His breath catches in his throat, hot exhale against your face. “I- I am injured, darling, I cannot perform as I do in my mind-”

“You don’t have to.” You’re already shifting, getting up on your knees and settling over his lap, slotting his hard, hot length against your dripping folds. “I’ll do it- you don’t have to do anything. I- I just need to cum, please?”

He cups your face in his hand like he had in the dream. “How could I possibly deny you anything?” He assists you in positioning yourself on his cock, a soft “careful, dear” as you start to sink down.

Jesus fuck. The dreams had done nothing to prepare you for the feeling in real life as you’re speared on his cock, your body making room for him with the delicious slide down until you’re seated in his lap completely. You’re full of him in every sense; your cunt stuffed, mind racing with thoughts of Alastor, vision blocked by anything but the sight of his eyes wide as he watches you take him in, his claws digging into the skin of your hips. It’s so, so much better than it is in the dreams- it’s tangible , a real memory that you can hold onto from your mind, not remnants of something in Alastor’s head. This was yours. Something he’s giving you because you asked for it, begged him for it and he obliged.

You raise up on your knees, already shaky from the slow descent, and make it halfway before Alastor shifts his hips and hits the bundle of nerves inside you. You bite back the moan that wants to escape, glaring at him halfheartedly. “I said I would do it.”

“You’re certainly taking your time, darling. Just thought I could offer some assistance.” He gives you a positively lecherous smile. “I suppose if you won’t allow me to move this should suffice.” He lets one hand slide off your hip to rub at your clit with his thumb, the other tightening its grip on you.

“I’ll- I’ll allow it,” you choke out, a little miffed that the subtle shift of his hips was enough to get him right where you needed him. You ride him gently, mindful of his injury, and the pleasure crests, so close to breaking you that your legs are cramping. “God, Alastor, please-”

“What do you need, beautiful?” You have only a moment to process the word before he’s moving, an arm wrapping around your middle and turning the pair of you over, rutting his cock into you with a speed and pressure that makes you dizzy. His smile is dazed looking down at you, watching your cunt swallow him and reveling in the wet noises that emerge from where you’re joined. “You’re so close, darling, I can feel it- your pleasure is mine. Every time you reach that peak, when you cum on my cock, it will only ever be me. ”

He shifts again, brings his knees up closer to get deeper inside of you. “Fuck, Alastor, my god-”

“I like the sound of that,” he purrs, bending down to trail his tongue up your throat. “I want to be everything to you. Would you allow me that privilege? To claim you, to own you in every way that you’d let me, in any dimension.”

Your head whips back and forth on the pillow, the edge so close your vision is dark. “Please, please, please,” you’re mumbling, “Alastor please, I’m gonna-”

The tension snaps before you can finish your sentence, a wailing cry falling from your lips as you clench and shake and cum under him, around him. It’s so different from when it happens in Alastor’s dreams- it echoes in every part of your body, your head spinning and fingers tightening in his shirt so hard that you fear you’ll rip the fabric. His name spills from you in waves with your release, and his eyes are dark as his thrusts intensify, chasing his orgasm with the resolve of a man possessed.

“Yours, all yours,” you mumble against his lips when his face comes close enough to catch his mouth. “All of me.”

He snarls and his hips stutter, snapping hard against yours. “So much- so much better,” he gasps through the tightening of your pussy on his length. “So perfect- mine -” With a harsh growl he spends himself a second time for the night, into the wet silken grip of your body. He thrusts gently through the wave of it before he collapses in a heap against you, breathing heavily into your ear.

“You’re so- lovely,” he mumbles. “Giving, for a demon. One would think that you would simply take- I would, were it me with your powers. But you’re just…” He trails off, head against your shoulder and breath slow.

You bring a hand up to trail down his back. “I meant it,” you whisper, swallowing your nerves. “If you- if you would have me, I would be yours. For as long as you want. Forever.”

He remains silent.

Fuck. You hope you haven’t overstepped some boundary. “Alastor?” He doesn’t move, or show any indication that he’s heard you. “Hey, are you okay?” You push at his shoulder with no response, so you double down and push harder, tumbling him off of you.

“Mother fucker.” The bandages wrapped around his chest are stained with red, more than when you had begun- the demon had torn his stitches open when he flipped the pair of you around to take control back, after you specifically told him you would handle your orgasms yourself. “Idiot,” you hiss at his slacken face, but you still brush his hair back from his sweaty forehead before pulling your bottoms back on and rushing down the hall to find Husk, ignoring the sting of the welts on your rear the whole way.

#hazbin hotel #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor the radio demon #x reader #bark bark bark #my stuff <3 #hazbin hotel x reader

135 notes · View notes

shadysadie · 1 year

Text

I’m still not over that final fight

I love children’s media, I always have and always will. Pretty much all I watch or read is aimed for children or young adults, I just think it’s more fun, more hopeful, and honestly more palatable for my neurodivergent brain.

But now that I am coming up on 30, I so rarely see characters that represent me as main characters anymore.

I love the protagonists as the kid I used to be, but I have just had to accept any character that represents me will be the mentor that will at best stand aside to let the kid characters flourish, and at worst die to be the inspiration for the kids to keep fighting. Pre-Owl House the only show I could watch with my kids where the mentor remained an active character was The Sarah Jane Adventures, but that had to get canceled because the lead actress actually did die. (RIP Lis Sladen, you absolute champion)

Then we get Eda Motherfucking Clawthorne

The Owl Lady

Iconic chronically ill queen.

Con-artist

Garbage thief

Public enemy number 1

Drinking her morning alcohol from her Thirty and Flirty mug

Giving no fucks about what society thinks of her

She plays the role of a mentor. She sees this lost, lonely kid and takes her in; teaches her, protects her, grows to love her as her own, but that is not the only role she plays. Her life is shaped by Luz and King, but it doesn’t revolve around them. She still has her own stuff going on.

From reconciling with her mom and sister to joining the BATTs and CATTs and her relationship with Raine, she is just as much of a main character as Luz and even when they are doing different things, Eda’s character growth is given just as much weight as Luz’s.

Even when we don’t see her throughout most of season 3, Luz’s love for her remains one of the driving forces of the story. And when we do see her she hasn’t been sitting idle, she’s still planning, she’s still moving forward, doing her best to save her home.

Then we get the final showdown which is traditionally just between the big bad and the young protagonist, occasionally a team of friends depending on the dynamics of the show, but this fight usually NEVER includes the mentor figure. But in the Owl House, you bet your ass Eda is going to be included.

Not only is she in the final battle, but she continues to play the role of the mentor, covering Luz’s back, guiding her hand, giving advice and encouragement. And they are having a blast! Both of them have the biggest smiles on their faces because they are just so happy to be alive and together.

Even after they get to the Heart and Luz has to face Belos one-on-one to pull him off, Eda, Raine, and King are there protecting her. They are in this together through and through. Because Eda is just as much of the main character as Luz. This is their story. And as promised in episode one, they stuck together.

#the owl house #Owl house #toh #watching and dreaming #eda clawthorne #eda the owl lady #the owl lady #the owl house finale #toh spoilers

760 notes · View notes

starsandhughes · 1 year

Text

Penalty Box— Jack’s Tooth: Taylor’s Version

SERIES MASTERLIST

last pic made by @babydollmarauders <3

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, trevorzegras, and 13,860 others

yourusername BREAKING NEWS: TAYLOR SWIFT ANNOUNCED SPEAK NOW TAYLOR’S VERSION AT HER CONCERT TONIGHT!

trevy baby, jamie baby, and i were sobbing on the bar floor right next to the pool table (sorry that you lost, babe) and it was the greatest experience of my life

IN OTHER NEWS: jacksonian howdy rowdy hughes is now one step closer to wanting his two front teeth for hanukah! (photo eight is a visual representation of the cash he got from the tooth fairy!) he won the battle (quintin ripping off his braces), but he lost the war (devils vs canes, round two: game one)! taylor’s marketing team wanted really good press for “ours,” so jack took one for the team!

“i love the gap between your teeth” i’m sure someone does!

“and i love the riddles that you speak” i sure do! they’re from his brand new lisp the tooth fairy gave him! (edit: i’ve been told this is too mean and have to publicly announce that his lisp is not that bad) (edit: trevor said i wasn’t mean enough)

to end: jacky boy, my soulmate, so sorry about your loss, but the content i’m seeing on twitter about it is my new will to live. i love you!

ps happy birthday mitch marner!

tagged jackhughes

view all 707 comments

jackhughes i feel as if this wasn’t necessary

yourusername nethethary*

jackhughes sissy

yourusername jacky?

jackhughes i’ll tell quinn you’re bullying me

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes who do you think sent her the pirate meme?

jackhughes BETRAYAL! EVERYWHERE!

yourusername cry

jackhughes i will

yourusername @/lhughes_06 record it^^^

lhughes_06 i gotchu, sissy🫡

jackhughes I’M TRYING TO FIND A PLACE IN THIS WORLD

trevorzegras @/jackhughes wrong album

user46 this is both the best and worst day of my life😭 but at least the devils didn’t lose 5-1?

yourusername too soon (it is not that was hilarious)

_quinnhughes looking good, rowdy!

yourusername so cowboy of him

jackhughes @_alexturcotte you still love me, right?

_alexturcotte @/jackhughes thure, babe

yourusername AHAHAHAHA @_alexturcotte i’m in love with you

trevorzegras @/yourusername i’m right here, babe

yourusername @/trevorzegras okay so close your eyes? we’re having a moment here

_alexturcotte @/trevorzegras perv

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras perv

user2 NOT THE TWEET OF SOMEONE CALLING THE SNTV RELEASE WITH A TREVOR PIC😭

trevorzegras okay i did not lose at pool!

jamie.drysdale you didn’t win either

yourusername you lost, babe. just like jacky boy lost his tooth.

trevorzegras @/yourusername you bumped into the pool table!

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras you two are attached at this hip how sure can you be that it was her?

jackhughes FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!

yourusername @/trevorzegras YOU’RE LOSING FOCUS, SON! THIS IS ABOUT JACKY BOY!

trevorzegas we’re engaged! i want an emancipation!

jamie.drysdale @/yourusername i’m cool if you’re cool

yourusername @/jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras consider our family tree burned

user99 i still love you jack!

lhughes_06 goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, you were bigger than the whole sky

trevorzegras still the wrong album? do you hughes boys know nothing?

yourusername @/trevorzegras you already know that answer

lhughes_06 @_quinnhughes

_quinnhughes @/yourusername sissy, my favorite girl, best friend contract

yourusername @/trevorzegras jacky boy and lukey moosey know nothing! quinn has all three brain cells!

lhughes_06 @_quinnhughes that was not helpful

jackhughes not it was not

_quinnhughes @/lhughes_06 @/jackhughes what she said wasn’t much better

user33 jack wanted to twin with his bestie merc so bad

user81 jack losing a tooth wasn’t on my 2023 bingo card

colecaufield “something’s gone terribly wrong; you’re all i wanted” -jack (about his tooth)

yourusername @/trevorzegras look what best friend number two said!

trevorzegras i knew i could count on you to use the right album! atta boy!

jackhughes @/colecaufield you’re not invited to my birthday party

yourusername @/colecaufield yes, you are

colecaufield @/jackhughes sorry, bud. what sissy says goes

trevorzegras @/yourusername he gets to call you sissy?! i got smacked in high school!

yourusername @/trevorzegras he gets a once per month pass

jackhughes😠

yourusername @/jackhughes 😭*

user7 quinn might be the number one trevor hater, but y/n is the number one jack hater

dylanduke25 taylor said “drop everything now” so jack dropped his tooth

yourusername THIS ONE WINS

lhughes_06 his tooth won’t be meeting him in the pouring rain

jackhughes @/dylanduke25 you aren’t my child, but i will ground you. @/lhughes_06 you’re grounded.

yourusername @/dylanduke25 @/lhughes_06 mother knows best! you’re not grounded!

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes thuck it

user56 let’s play “who’s y/n’s least favorite hughes” again!

yourusername it’s still quinn??

_quinnhughes added this to their story

lhughes_06 added this to their story

_alexturcotte added this to their story

#penalty box series #penalty box series: bonus editions #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #cole caufield #alex turcotte #jamie drysdald #dylan duke #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nj devils

722 notes · View notes

blitzor0de0 · 22 days

Note

I wouldn't mind reader more about Saint Peter and Redeemed!Reader adventures in heaven.

Maybe you could write about their first date? First kiss?

Maybe Redeemed!Reader has a nightmare about their 2nd death and Saint Peter comforts them?

Maybe some jealous Saint Peter? Someone tries to flirt with Redeemed!Reader and Saint Peter get a little possessive over them? Like wraps one of his wings around them, protecting them?

Not sure you'd be up for making smut for this pairing, but that would be nice as well. :)

hihi ! I decided to go for the nightmare one since I love torturing reader 🤭🤭

I told myself this one was gonna be rlly short because my brain was just lacking juices but here we are again over 1k words and yet ?? I still rushed half of it between my overwatch deaths and games 😭

cw: reader death mention, nightmares and by extension ptsd, tooth rotting fluff lowkey

word count: 1.2k

part 1 part 2 part 4

Delicate (Saint Peter x Redeemed!Reader)

Chills ran up your spine as the scene replayed itself before you.

All you could feel was the stab of the trident magnified by a million. It was torturous, and yet the scene had replayed every night since your arrival in Heaven. You couldn't escape it, causing you to spend many sleepless nights, drinking coffees, going on walks. Anything to resist falling asleep, afraid of your death haunting you.

Said sleepless nights were taking a toll on you, everywhere you went, you'd see the executioner in the corner of your eye, causing your heart to drop.

You would doze off in the middle of dates with Peter, meetings with Emily, at your job. Everywhere you went were reminders of that dreadful day.

Sure, you could talk to Sir Pentious about it, but the guilt of making him remember his own death ate you alive, but the passing glances the two of you would share could say a million words, the bags under his eyes just as visible as yours.

It didn't take long for Peter to notice something was up with you, especially with how you froze up when Lute passed by the two of you in the Plaza, scowl evident on her face.

At first, he just suspected it to be you just being afraid of her due to the battle, but witnessing your paranoia get the better of you just made him feel stupid.

Offering you a small "Are you okay?" he frowned, he always had faith in you and believed in you, to see his love this dishevelled, it freaked him out. You were always a stronger person than he would ever be, in all means of the word.

"I'm fine..." Is all you could utter, it was only a phase, something you would get over, right? You could overcome it on your own, that's what you believed.

Peter could only nod and say "If you do need me, at any time, you know where to find me."

Tonight was one of those nights again, in your exhaustion, the fluffy pillows, the oversized duvet, the memory foam mattress, it enticed you into its warm and loving arms, enveloping you as you drifted off to sleep for the first time in days.

The nightmare, your past reality played in your mind once again. The sharp stab of the strident, the smug smirk upon the executioner's face.

Everything was perfectly recalled.

With a sob, you awoke yourself, sweating and shaking as all you could do was hold yourself, sitting up and pulling your knees up to your chest.

Glancing towards your digital clock upon your side desk, your first step of grounding yourself was checking the time which resulted in an unsurprising 2:38am.

Sniffling, you picked up your phone, quickly dialling Peter's phone number.

It took a few rings for him to pick up, and when he uttered out a groggy "Hello?" It wasn't hard to tell that you had just woken him from blissful slumber. The thought only made your guilt bubble up inside you, internally debating whether or not to hang up then and there to let him be. This was a pathetic reason to call someone, anyways.

But you couldn't bring yourself to, sniffling down the microphone as you fought against your will to speak. It was as if your words were lodged in your throat, as if speaking would kill you once again.

“...Peter” You weakly whispered.

Well that certainly woke him up, his tone of voice switching from gruelling grogginess to concern.

“Hey? Hey! Are you alright?? Are you crying? Oh my goodness, do you want me to come over, is that alright?” Quite the rambler he was, but at least his intentions were always pure at heart.

“Please?”

“I'll be right there, unlock the door for me, alright?”

And with that he hung up, hurriedly making his way over to your house.

Deciding your room was far too dangerous to stay in right now, you opted to listen to Peter, heading down to the door and unlocking it before situating yourself on the sofa, blanket wrapped around you.

Too lost in your own thoughts, you hadn’t noticed your friend? boyfriend? — You didn't know the two of you hadn't made it official yet — enter the house, crouching down in front of you. It was only when he placed one of his hands upon yours did you notice him.

You were a mess, it was hard to miss, hair stuck to your forehead, tangled and knotted, dried tear tracks down your cheek, and yet Peter looked at you with all the fondness in the world, as if you were the most gorgeous person to grace the three realms.

“You're okay now,” His voice instantly soothed you to your core, being around Peter always seemed to do that. “I'll make some tea,” He stood, but before he could turn on his heel,

"Don't leave.." You whispered, catching his hand with your own as you glanced up at him with glossy eyes.

With his gaze, ever so gentle, he smiled down at you, taking your other hand, pulling you up into a hug.

It was warm, full of emotions. Peter's adoration for you, and you for him, but the sadness of your nightmare, of your trauma lingered, evident by your shaking from as tears started to slip once more.

Peter rubbed your back in an attempt to soothe you. He didn't dare let you go, only allowing you to break the hug first, Lord knows that you needed it, who knows how long it had been since you got a hug in the first place.

You didn't know how long the hug lasted, and didn't care to know either, the hug felt like home, like you were always meant to be there in Peter's arms. Eventually, you did pull away, “Thank you.”

“At a time like this, there's no reason to thank me whatsoever, c'mon you want some tea?” You shook your head in response, Peter's presence was enough, and besides you felt the sweet embrace of sleep calling your name.

With a yawn, you spoke at ease for the first time that night, “Come to bed with me?” Causing Peter to smile, “Of course.”

You could feel yourself longing for his touch still, deciding to link your pinkie finger with his, craving any sort of touch, any proof that Peter was in fact here with you.

You led him up to your bedroom, a little nervous, you'd yet to fully decorate your room to your desires, so the walls were looking a little bare and there were some clothes scattered across the floor, but Peter didn't mind at all, it only humanised you in his eyes.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“Of course I do, you've helped me so much and just… you bring me a lot of comfort Peter.. Besides, you can scare away the nightmares if they return.” A small childlike jest, but knowing Peter, he would kick that nightmare’s ass if he could.

“Oh,” you continued, not before taking a big yawn “I'll tell you about it all in the morning, just hold me for tonight please.” You sat yourself on your bed, pulling Peter besides you with what sleepy strength you could muster.

It didn't take long to grow comfortable, laying yourself between Peter's arms. Sleep quickly took over your senses, but not before you could hear the angel utter out a quiet

“I love you.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #saint peter x reader #hazbin hotel saint peter #hazbin hotel saint peter x you #hazbin hotel saint peter x reader #saint peter x you #saint peter x yn #blitzor0de0

69 notes · View notes

nobylu · 4 months

Text

Long Ass Logical Lore Conclusion Of The Balor (art at the end)

Let me put you on two trains of thought that will crash together like trucks on Mythbusters in a way that will make sense when they're together.

Train 1: Healing via putting numbers back on your health bar during battle is pretty rare in Lancer. There's really only two robots in the current edition of the game that can do it - the Lancaster can heal everyone and the Balor can fix itself. In fact, I'd argue that the Balor is defined more by healing than the Lancaster - you heal on your turn, you heal more on your turn if you activate your core power, you heal immediately after battle without expending repairs IF YOU ARE A BALOR AND YOU HAVE DAMAGE YOU HEAL and your DM vows to focus all fire on you so at least you take some kind of damage that's permanent (but then you activate your core power and say fuck you DM i rolled a d6 and got a 6 so actually there's no structure damage i am fine because I am a Balor)

Train 2: We all know and love that the Balor is just nanites on some sort of structure and that it goes yum yum yum on anything standing near it via the power of Scouring Swarm and Swarm Body (2-11dmg if you're standing next to one, if you dont know), but now we gotta ask - how do the nanites know where the robot ends and where the pilot begins? WHAT IS STOPPING THE NANITES FROM GOING AUTO YUM YUM YUM ON MY PILOT BECAUSE MY PILOT IS VERY ADJACENT TO THEM. I argue that what is keeping the nanites from snacking on their pilots is that the swarm knows what a human body is supposed to look like on several different levels. If they just know to not eat the skin, then the moment the pilot gets hurt because something got them when an enemy was shooting at the quote "angry water" that is the Balor then they get eaten from the inside out and turned into a fashionable human-sized human-shaped artisan raw leather bag because all the swarm knows not to touch is the pilot's skin. They also gotta know more than "a person is a head, torso, and four limbs" because then the bees will be the Diogenes to our Plato the moment, say, a space murder tiger comes into contact with the nanites and the bees will also cease to recognize the pilot when the space murder tiger rips off a leg because you know what's gonna happen the moment the pilot becomes a head, torso, and THREE limbs you guessed it it's yum yum yum time and now the swarm is the space murder tiger's, congratulations to the lucky tiger. So they gotta know skin, muscle, bones, blood, pilot's DNA, nerves - THE WHOLE NINE YARDS and probably how they sort of go together. (also probably clothes because i'd hate to pilot my bees and come out with my whole entire dick and balls and titties in the breeze because my bees atomized my fit and won't give it back). The subsequent collision of Train 1 and Train 2:

If Balors are greedy heal bots and know how people are put together, what is keeping them from healing their pilots. NOTHING, IS WHAT I SAY. I posit that Balor nanites can, in fact, fix their pilots because bodies are just the frames for the computational core that is the brain. How well you want them to fix their pilots is up to you - for me, the answer is poorly and with balor-ification. Mechanically, it can't be instantly because that would be busted and poor sport, but you can theme your Balor Pilot's revival upon their unfortunate death likely of reactor stress (RIP my shit heat cap) as "they got fixed up by their nanites". And if you really really want, you can add nanites to your Pilot like I did with my guy, Diederik.

Nanite Infestation and the Small Balor Stability Problem

You're familiar with that part of Balor lore that says that they don't work on anything smaller than size 2 because they just need SO MUCH ENERGY, so how do I justify through lore that my pilot has these nanites while also not acting as a size 1/4 Balor. The way I've perceived it is that Diederik, my boy my man my guy, is host to a swarm that 1) does not operate in its fullest capacity and 2) subsequently cannot do mech-level combat.

Balors have specialist nanites used in specific weapons like the Hellswarm, CONSUME/HIVE, and SWARM/HIVE. Something that can damage a mech probably is super energy-hungry, so we can have those be turned off. The only activated nanites would be structural nanites, sensor nanites, greywash (the part that eats), and reconstruction nanites that take what the greywash atomizes and glues it together like a 10 year old making a clay model of a person that makes you go "oohhh, thats... nice. Great job??? It looks just like me?". Just enough nanite activity that it can be powered by the human body at the low low price of "eat more food". (For Diederik, I've gone another step and will say that the reactor of the Balor is made of reactor nanites but that running them inside a human body uuuhhhh cooks it so those are off too.)

The cool thing about having Balor nanites permanently on you is that you can flavor all sorts of things as nanite shit. My pilot melee weapon is nanite knuckle dusters. I flavor my successful pilot-level rolls as the nanites doing something or alerting of something. I'm running the Bond Magus so all my Magus powers are just nanites doing their thing - skincrawl (get a bad feeling and react fast) is just the nanites telling Diederik about the bad thing in time for him to react, Geist (touch someone and experience what they do while unobserved even when far away) is just planting a nanite bug on them, Possession (ask the dark presence inside you a question) is just asking The Maw their/its opinion, etc.

(Another tidbit to chew on is that the swarm is still going to run a little toasty, so pilots hosting Balor nanites post healing are in turn going to be a little toasty just kind of always. Hello 100 freedom degree perma-fever.)

114 notes · View notes

sugarpasteltmnt · 2 months

Note

i am currently catching up on neon void, and it is a delight to read. your descriptions of leo’s mind is mesmerizing and grabs the reader’s attention so well. it’s very diverse and unique compared to other interpretations and fics♥️

i’m curious to know what your thinking process was like while writing leo’s insanity and his own thought processes.

(spoilers for ch11) the scene that stuck out to me the most was when leo was about to infect donnie. it felt so vulnerable and raw ahh

anyways i just want to dig into your mind a little to know how it works.

keep up the great work, you are doing wonderful.

WAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH 😭😭😭 you are so sweet thank you!! 💙💗‼️and ohmigosh what a fun ask.

tbh i sat on this one for a while to think of how to dive into it-- beware of my (VERY) long ramblings below!

this question really got me Thinkin' and i kinda popped off but!! If i may indulge myself, here's sort of a wild explanation of how i approach Leo's Insane Brain for this specific fic:

does it meet R.I.S.E???

R - Realistic? I - Interesting? S - Silly? E - Existential?

R - Realistic

"How the hell do i make this sound realistic" is often an obstacle i run into. but it's also the Secret Sauce. What really gives the thought process direction. Given Leo's current situation, he's battling between what he wants and what he needs to do. Which is often a very real problem real people have. Exaggerating it helps create a fun back-and-forth dialog that can make his thoughts seem muddled.

With Leo in this fic’s setup, there are about five main key factors i rely on with his decision making:

Happiness The root of Leo’s general personification. He’s the guy who beat Krang One. The one who escaped a place worse than Hell. After years of missing home so much he’s FINALLY home. He’s drunk on happiness. He was finally home. And that relief and joy is what makes him so jubilant and goofy.

Awareness of his goal Though Rise Leo is a very funny dude, he's still a Leonardo. Throughout the series, Leo is the voice of reason when things are getting out of hand or are potentially dangerous. Leo's had nothing but time to think. Wishing what he'd done different. Wishing he had been more serious. After five years obsessing over his mistake and missing his family, the moment he see's the opportunity to make sure this never happens again he'll latch onto it. And when the stakes are high, accentuating that tension can help with frantic impact of his thinking.

His desire to see his family This desire often clashes with point number 2. Writing his internal struggle between the two helps with the “overwhelmed thoughts” vibe. It’s hard for him to choose! And he doesn’t wanna have to choose! Playing out the conflict between his 'want' vs his 'need to do' helps me bring out his nervous thinking process.

He's self-reprimanding thoughts We all love an Angsty Leo. It was hinted in the show that he had some self-esteem issues, but who doesn't love ramping it up to 11 for a fic??? That, and he was trapped with Krang this whole time. After hearing he was nothing but trash for five years PLUS the guilt of nearly ending the world, the guy doesn't exactly see himself in a great light you know? This can help clash with point 1, again helping with that 'what he wants' vs 'what he needs to do' inner conflict.

Instinct to Survive / Feral Tendencies This one is super fun. I love feral AUs/tropes. With little to no socialization in the Prison Dimension, Leo's sanity started to slip, leaving his body's natural instincts to become more profound. Plus, with the Krang Parasite, I like to exaggerate how feral/dangerous he could be outside of 'turtle' instincts. (Seeing that parasite hosts in the movie were very violent). Sprinkling in feral moments is just a delicious thrill I love adding, and it makes the insanity factor skyrocket and it's so fun to write 🩵🩵🩵

I - Interesting

Is Leo's thought process interesting to read??? Honestly, I just gun for what I think is the most interesting; Leo's relationship with his brothers (especially Raph), and the cause and effects of his shenanigans.

Also, I liked to experiment with wonky texts to help emphasize key moments or words to grab attention. Mostly because it feels like a fun surprise to read them in my opinion. Though not necessary in writing, I thought using some funky fonts might entice and excite 💙

S- Silly

THE BIG ONE!!! EVERYONE'S FAVORITE!!! 🎉🎊🥳🎉 Something I really love love love about Rise's style is that it's silly It's unique! It's fun! I love that Leo and the others are goofy and have some slap-stick moments. And I wanted to keep that with Leo despite everything. Plus, I ADORE that in this iteration of TMNT, the characters are such showmen. They are DRAMATIC. They are SILLY. And that's something I wanna celebrate!! Plus, as much as I love angst, writing nothing but pure angst is exhausting. (And I'm sure reading pure angst isn't enjoyably to everyone.) Throwing in Silly moments is like a little moment of refreshment to me 🩵

I also like to believe that Leo kept his sense of humor out of sheer SPITE. The 'wipe that stupid grin off your face' line in the movie really stuck with me. I feel like Leo would smile through his fear and still be a clown just to spite Krang One.

E - Existential

At the end of the day, Leo is dealing with a VERY big issue. I felt like the Rise movie did an excellent job portraying the severity of an alien invasion for the setting Rise had. And the weight of the situation would be too great for one person. And this is often what I refer back to to make Leo snap. A relapse in clarity of mind. A moment for the panic and PTSD to come back in full force and make him rely on his instincts. Usually the feral instincts he became more attuned with while fleeing/fighting Krang One. It also goes hand-in-hand with his awareness of his goal (as mentioned in 'Realistic' above).

And that's kinda a word-vomit of how it goes!! Honestly??? The tug-o-war between conflicting thoughts helps me write the madness in his head. It's been super fun and interesting, and I hope it's been fun to read!!! (Though I'm telling you now I will NOT be doing those floating text tables again OOF)

Thank you again for the ask it was super fun to think about ;w; 🩵‼️

#thank u for coming to my Ted Talk #long post #sorry i kinda Went Off (affectionate) on this lmao #does this make sense??? only Pizza Supreme knows 😔#pastel prattling

73 notes · View notes

hannagoldworthy · 6 months

Text

WARNING: POSSIBLE SPOILERS FOR STAR WARS LEGENDS

One take I regularly see from the “Jedi Critical” corner of this fandom always manages to baffle me: “In Legends, Luke Skywalker corrected the mistakes of the dogmatic Jedi Order!”

Since my days as a dumbass first-time tumblr user, in which I was rather sternly corrected by older users if I got too aggressive in my arguments, I’ve tried to steer away from pointing out how STUPID that take is. But? Nothing’s saying I can’t make a post of my own about it!

So.

With the bare minimum of due respect.

What fucking book did you read where Luke Skywalker corrected his own fucking mistakes, let alone those of any Jedi who came before him?

Because from what I’VE read? Luke had a nasty habit of doing the same things everyone criticizes the Prequel Jedi for doing, only ramping the ante up in a way only a Skywalker trained by TWO of the Disaster Lineage can.

Mace Windu threatened a “helpless” old Chancellor in his own office and was trying to assassinate him? Gag me. Luke Skywalker electrocuted Shimrra Jamaane to death with Force Lightn-pardon me, “eLeCtRiC jUsTiCe.”

The Jedi Order of the Prequels used Padawans as “child soldiers”? Please. Luke Skywalker possessed the body of his nephew to duel Exar Kun…when Jacen Solo was TWO, a FUCKING TODDLER. That’s not even getting into the number of very young teenagers who died horrible deaths as SOLDIERS in the war against the Yuuzhan Vong - for pity’s sake, Anakin Solo was knighted at sixteen and KILLED AT SEVENTEEN, where his grandfather’s knighting at nineteen was considered a rush job!

The Galactic Army of the Republic was a slave army? So was the army of YVH-1 battle droids built to battle the Yuuzhan Vong invasion! “Oh, but those were just droids” yeah and? The anti-Jedi folk cried when Anakin Skywalker was rightfully punished for not wiping R2’s memory of sensitive battle information, and they’ve outright said they have more sympathy for the battle droids than for the living, breathing people defending themselves against the battle droids. Not to mention, Legends had a Droid’s Rights movement in full swing at this point in time, so? YVH’s were people programmed from “birth” to die in battle. Next question.

Obi-Wan was too mean to Darth Maul and Darth Vader when he cut off their limbs? Alema Rar would like a word! Luke Skywalker permanently crippled her lightsaber arm, his sister cut off one of her feet AND one of her lekku (brain tails, that HAVE HER BRAIN IN THEM), AND put her in the way of a spider-sloth that BIT HER IN FUCKING HALF. And this was after Luke helped raise her as a youngling and HAD A VISION OF HER TURNING TO THE DARK SIDE, and did FUCK-ALL to prevent her from turning!

On the topic of doing fuck-all to prevent something…oh, was Obi-Wan Kenobi unable to prevent his Padawan from being groomed by a Sith Lord? Well, Luke Skywalker GAVE his son Ben as an unofficial apprentice to Jacen Solo, who turned out to be Darth Caedus and mentally, emotionally, and physically tortured Ben for six years! And, while Obi-Wan did not like Palpatine and continuously advised Anakin not to trust him without even knowing Palpatine was Sidious, Luke fully suspected Jacen was headed down a dark path and still encouraged Ben to be his apprentice because he was afraid of the Skywalker legacy dying with him.

Obi-Wan Kenobi flirted inappropriately with enemy generals? Luke Skywalker banged them. No, seriously, Legends Luke’s sexual body count is in double digits, the man was an unrepentant fuckboi. Mara Jade, Calista Masana/Mingla, Gaerial Captison, Shira Brie, some blonde named Mary who was in one comic to die at the end, fucking ABELOTH? Yeah, Luke only married one of those women, BUT HE FUCKED ALL OF THEM. And now, we have the DinLuke ship (which only exists in fanon, so I will count it as Legends) to mirror the Codywan ship (which actually has some basis in canon), just to cement that Luke Skywalker is a persistent playboy for BOTH teams. He loves them and leaves them like a pro.

Oh, there’s a persistent fan-theory that Korkie Kryze was Satine and Obi-wan’s secret love child? There were rumors that Brisha Syo was Shira Brie’s daughter with Luke…rumors that were credible enough that Luke had to do his own investigation into the matter. Shira Brie, aka Lady Lumiya, whom Luke blew to smithereens when she tried to kill him, and fought her with no mercy when Darth Vader pieced her back together and sent her to fight him again. So, while Obi-Wan has a rumored lovechild from a respectful relationship with a woman who opted not to tell him, Luke legitimately blew up his alleged baby mamma in the void of space with the bare minimum of regret.

Yoda and Obi-Wan sent Luke to kill his own father because they couldn’t manage to do so? Luke sent his niece, Jaina Solo, to kill her TWIN BROTHER because he could not bring himself to kill Jacen himself. And, while Luke was understandably torn up about killing Anakin, Jaina had a Force-bond comparable with a canon dyad withh Jacen - it hurt her a lot more when she killed Jacen than it ever would have hurt Luke to kill Vader. She nearly DIED of heartbreak, that’s how bad it was.

Obi-Wan hurt Anakin’s trust by faking his death and going undercover? He beat the crap out of Anakin to maintain his cover? Luke hurt Leia’s trust by faking turning to the Dark Side, becoming a reborn Sidious’s new apprentice, ACTUALLY FALLING TO THE DARK SIDE, and mentally fighting Leia WHILE SHE WAS PREGNANT, to the point she WENT INTO LABOR EARLY.

Obi-Wan beat Anakin in a duel and left him to burn to death? Luke Skywalker BEAT THE LIVING HELL out of Vader until Vader was wordlessly pleading for MERCY, which he DID NOT DO ON MUSTAFAR.

Now.

Is there any nuance in Luke’s situations, throughout all of these examples? Yes, there is...but there’s also nuance in the Jedi’s situation in the Prequels, which no one seems to acknowledge in their case. So, whatever grace I extend to Legends!Luke being an imperfect and fascinating character, also extends to the Jedi being imperfect and fascinating characters in their own right.

I love Legends!Luke BECAUSE he reminds me of the Prequels Jedi, not because he corrected any of their “mistakes” (he did not. He very clearly did not). So don’t come at me saying Legends!Luke was better than the Prequel Jedi. I have read the books! I have kept the receipts! AND I WILL USE THEM.

#Star Wars #Star Wars Legends #Pro-Jedi #Pro-Luke Skywalker #Pro-Jedi Order #Pro-Obi-Wan Kenobi #Pro-Yoda #Pro-Mace Windu #PRO JEDI CODE

101 notes · View notes

transparencyboo · 2 months

Text

For the last two weeks or so I've been playing the Mega Drive dungeon crawler Shining in the Darkness. I've recently been going through all the various action-RPGs the system had to offer and kinda found myself lusting for more, so I expanded the scope.

Shining in the Darkness had one of those cover arts I vividly remember seeing in game stores during the 90s, I understood already back then that whatever this was would be too complicated for my feeble preschool brain, but it had a shiny glossy allure that still beckoned to me with promises of daring adventures and grand battles. Questions lingered in my head: Who is that evil bastard zapping sparks at Cavin from the Gummi Bears? Why has the king entrusted the safety of his kingdom to a meagre boy and his two misfit friends?

Well, it turns out that big bad guy is called Dark Sol, the bane of all game difficulty discourse, and the reason the king has enlisted three poor kids is because there is no one else to rely on after your daddy went missing. Everyone else just sorta gives up along the way.

My initial conclusion of this game was to commend my young self for the striking assessment, my five year old self would never get anywhere in this game between the English text, abstracted navigation and number crunching battle mechanics. Shining in the Darkness is a bona fide classic dungeon gauntlet endurance simulator, where you traverse vanishing point block tunnels and encounter enemies. I've played one or two games like this before, like the original Phantasy Star, but this time a new desire struck me. I wanted to draw maps. Maybe I'm just getting older and more patient, leading me to wilfully ignore easily available resources online.

By my recollection, this is the first time I've dedicated myself to playing a game like this. Usually I just resort to my sense of direction, which I've gathered seems to at least be above average, since anytime I go anywhere with anyone I always end up playing shepherd so they don't get lost. Worst case scenario I'll just fall back to mapping efforts by online heroes from years past. For Shining in the Darkness I persisted blindly about halfway through until I admitted to myself charting a map of the labyrinthine caves would be a lot easier. Luckily, the game allows you to spend 1 MP to see a chunk of where you've walked, meaning I could get neatly organized segments to copy by hand.

Perhaps my biggest takeaway from this endeavour was how much of the game experience was expressed through this map project. I spent just as much time slaying beasts as I did counting tiles and filling them out with my pencil. It became a natural counterbalance that provided vital pacing to the game mechanics. Walking, fighting, charting. In turn, through the principle of learning by doing, I gained a more intimate familiarity with the environments by just replicating them out on a sheet of paper. I found that while the map helped, I actually didn't need it much for backtracking because my drawings had helped me remember the layouts of the corridors anyway.

I guess the lesson learned is that while old design sensibilities may appear to be arcane and cumbersome when easier solutions exists, the obfuscation is part of the fun. The game hands me an intentionally hard to navigate world, shows me that it's fully capable of displaying maps of it, but still asks me to provide that dimension myself. Through doing this, I discover that drawing maps is both surprisingly enjoyable and cognitively stimulating. I realize that had I downloaded some pre-packaged maps online and used as my bible, Shining in the Darkness would've been a vastly different experience, one of monotonous meandering through endless fights while confidently striding along the known path.

Perhaps that's why the game was called Shining and the Darkness in Japan, it doesn't flow as well as the western title, but at the same time it poetically reflects this act of discovery. I am Shining, the game provides the Darkness, we work together, we must unify to become whole.

As for Dark Sol, he turned into a big monster boy and was vanquished by a spunky cartographer child and her two cohorts. The unknown has been made known and the kingdom is once more saved.

/Kiki

#shining in the darkness #shining force #sega #mega drive

56 notes · View notes

pourcap · 5 months

Text

thoughts: kr chapter 15 (pt. 1)

'If they come this way—’ said Nikandros in a low voice. ‘Hey!’ Laurent called out. (...) i bet this will make nikandors love laurent even more :)

(...) Brief visions of strangling Laurent weren’t helpful. (...) damen is the best protagonist ever

(...) Damen judged the distance between himself and the nearest of the approaching soldiers, his chances of killing them, of killing enough of them to even the odds for the others. (...) also does damen's mind ever not immediately go this route? imagine constantly being so on edge because you feel like you have to fight and protect because that's all you've ever known, and because you're the best at it so everyone's survival depends on how quickly you eliminate threat. so exhausting.

(...) ‘You are Charls the renowned Veretian cloth merchant?’ said the officer sceptically, as if this was a name well known to him. ‘No,’ said Laurent, as if this was the most foolish thing in the world. ‘I am Charls the renowned Veretian cloth merchant. This is my assistant. Lamen.' ummmm. okay. 'as if it was the most foolish thing in the world' made me laugh. laurent's brashness lol. also i absolutely love how laurent just went for the ship name, which is of course veeery far off from damen's actual name so they totally won't risk being found out at all

'I don’t suppose your men could aid us in our repairs?’ said Laurent. Damen stared at him. They were encircled by fifty mounted Akielon soldiers. Jokaste was inside that wagon. no way that's why laurent stopped them. is he insane???? i can 100% picture the way damen's staring at him.

just remembered "it's the game i like" so i'm guessing this turn of event makes sense

The officer said, ‘We’re patrolling for Damianos of Akielos.’ ‘Who’s Damianos of Akielos?’ said Laurent. His face was utterly open, his blue eyes unblinking, upturned to the officer on his horse. ahhhhh!!! oh god. also i looove when laurent puts on this faux-innocent look he used so much in book one. it's just so amusing to me bc he's such an asshole and i mean this very lovingly

(...) Nikandros had the slightly stupefied look that Damen remembered from several of his own adventures with Laurent. (...) can you believe i'm getting emotional over this? because damen knows laurent now. because laurent is known. for probably the first time in his life except for by auguste he has someone who really actually genuinely knows him and appreciates him for the way his mind works. i just love laurent and damen so much <3

Damen followed him in, acutely aware that he was being separated from his men. Laurent simply walked into the inn. such an interesting nod to how damen feels more comfortable in the presence of his men (whether that's because he feels the need to protect them or because there's safety in numbers in general) whereas laurent had to rely on only himself for the past years

(...) Perhaps he could overwhelm Stavos. He could negotiate some kind of exchange, Stavos’s life for their freedom. his brain just won't stop omg. imagine constantly thinking about how to get out of situation that could end in your death (also imagine how intimidating damen must look to an outsider since he's basically just always coming up with battle plans in his head lol)

'I can assure you. Charls the renowned merchant is already here.' noooooooo

'That is impossible. Call him out here.' ohh the audacity. laurent can be such a prince

Charls took one look at the unmistakable blue eyes and blond hair of his Prince, who he had last seen in Damen’s lap dressed as a pet in a tavern at Nesson. His eyes widened. Then, with a truly heroic effort: ‘Charls!’ said Charls. hahhaaha no way. bless the real charls <3

they're all charls :')

'Thank you, Charls, this man believes I am the King of Akielos,’ said Laurent. god he's soooo annoying i love him so much

'An agent of the King when he has raised taxes and threatens to bankrupt the entire cloth industry?’ said Laurent. Damen put his eyes somewhere where they wouldn’t meet Laurent’s, (...) i repeat: he's so annoying and i love him so much. also a fed up damen is so funny to me

'You speak very good Akielon,’ he said, loudly and slowly. ‘Thank you,’ said Damen. ohh that reminds me of that scene in book one when laurent had damen drugged and this guy told damen that laurent had an eye for detail or something lol

'(...) Nikandros is completely useless as the Kyros,’ Laurent said, loudly enough for Nikandros to hear him. ‘He doesn’t know the first thing about cloth.' oh my god laurent stop antagonizing your boyfriend's best friend!!!

Damen looked over at Laurent, who was deep in conversation, letting his eyes pass slowly over every familiar feature, the cool expression tipped with gold in the firelight. He said, ‘Did he?’ ‘Charls said, think of the most expensive pet you’ve ever seen, then double it.’ ‘Really?’ said Damen. damen stop getting horny pt. 34972387

'Of course, Charls knew who he was right away, because he couldn’t hide his princely style, and nobility of spirit.’ ‘Of course,’ said Damen. hahahhahaha awww i love charls and i'm happy that in the future he'll have some new tales to tell about this moment right now

'Maybe you could encourage Akielons to wear sleeves. You’d sell more cloth,’ said Laurent. Everyone laughed politely at the joke, and then speculative looks crossed one or two faces, as if this young cousin of Charls’s might have stumbled by accident onto a good idea. you can always count on laurent to find a new way to be a nuisance to akielos <3

ahhhh did laurent push their mattress together to sleep next to damen????? i'm crying. sobbing, actually <3

they're kissing !!! i love them soooo much i can't even put it into words anymore, my heart just goes "!!!" every time they're close to each other

Laurent didn’t seem to care, even seemed to like it. Damen pressed him into the wall, and took his mouth. Laurent smelled of soap and fresh cotton. Damen’s thumbs pushed into his waist. laurent being turned on by damen's sweat... honestly if we got laurent's pov, he'd probably be just as intense about damen as damen is about him. they're truly a match made in heaven.

(...) They had not before had the luxury of extended lovemaking, deliberate and unhurried as a First Night. His thoughts ribboned with all the things they had yet to do. damen is such a softie!!! he's seriously just thinking about all the things he still wants to experience with laurent. he's so cute :')

(...) It was charming, because it was clear that Laurent was unsure exactly what to do, yet, typically, had acted to take control of everything. again: he knows laurent so well by now! i'm so emotional.

'First time to entertain a lover?’ Just saying the word made him flush, and he saw Laurent flush too. god. goooood. godddddd.

(...) He watched Laurent react to his body. Virgins and the inexperienced tended to get nervous, which he enjoyed as a challenge to be overcome, hesitancy turned into eagerness and pleasure. It pleased some deep part of him to see in Laurent the flickering of a similar reaction. (...) hmmmmm. :)))))))) i mean, he's wrong obviously, but i am super happy that laurent gets to experience sex with a good man who he finds attractive and who he likes and who is, on top of all that, great at sex <3

And dropped to his knees on the floor of the inn. i'm getting teary-eyed over a blowjob. seriously. i'm just so proud of laurent and of him taking initiative because he wants to do this with and for damen !!!!

that description of the contrast between laurent's internal struggle and practiced skill makes me sick

#i keep forgetting tumblr has a character limit now 😭#capri #captive prince #laurent #laurent of vere #damen #damen of akielos #damianos #damianos of akielos #lamen

141 notes · View notes

dumbass-duo-showdown · 7 months

Text

DUMBASS DUO SHOWDOWN ROUND 1 BATTLE 5

JOSUKE HIGASHIKATA & OKUYASU NIJIMURA AKA JOSUYASU (JOJO'S BIZARRE ADVENTURE) VS SHOUYOU HINATA & TOBIO KAGEYAMA (HAIKYUU)

propaganda under the cut!

josuyasu

Josuke is fairly decent, but okuyasu, you know how in math, if you multiply a negative number with a positive one it is always negative, that is josuyasu for you. Josuke has 6 braincells and Okuyasu has -6734. Their first meeting was okuyasu trying to kill josuke, then he shows up at his house a few days later and goes "hey lets go to school! btw your mom is hot!" Josuke punches a plate of spaghetti because he thinks the chef is evil, they both fight a middle schooler who stole their cash. Okuyasu got the third most op ability in his part but he is too stupid (and kind) to realize it. Somehow they survive their entire part. They are thus far the second jojo and jobro duo to not lose each other. the second one? THEM IN AN ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE! (okay but okuyasu is swapped for koichi in that one, but still).

Josuke normally is pretty smart, but somewhat silly, but Okuyasu. Isn’t incredibly bright but he’s the best jojo character idc. Okuyasu brings out josukes stupid and then they are just besties and totally bouncing off each other’s stupid ideas. Idk what Okuyasu does to josukes brain but I’m here for it

I saw the post title and without reading anything else immediately went to submit them, only to go back and read the full post and realize they were included by default. They are THE dumbass duo. Ever. The worst protagonists for a detective story, but they dumbassed around so hard they somehow caught a genius serial killer. No matter who wins, they’ll always be the number 1 dumbasses in my heart.

they are the best of friends, which of course means they met by trying to kill each other.

They’re both so stupid. Like josuke isn’t that stupid on his own but he’s kinda dumb and when you put him with dumbass incarnate okuyasu they multiply each others’ stupidness. Together they are a menace.

Hinata & Kageyama

I love how at first it seems like Hinata will be The Dumb One and Kageyama will be The Smart One, but then no. Just, no, surprise girlies, Kageyama is just as much (if not even more) of a dumbass as Hinata and that’s beautiful of them.

They scream pre-pubescently at each other

They are babies. Not only are they emotionally constipated but they are just stupid in general. They thought a cell phone tower was the Eiffel Tower...

Outside of volleyball these two don’t know shit about shit. They’re helpless worms intellectually and perhaps even socially. They need help.

both of them have like. Volleyball Smarts. but off the court are so dumb like all the time. also their relationship with each other means so much to me. hinata is the person that can keep up with kageyama and wants to, that kageyama’s been waiting for. especially since his grandpa died a year ago and he has no friends. kageyama is someone who can set to hinata and also is hinata’s person to beat. they help each other grow as people while also not being able to tell twins apart even when the twins have differently colored dyed hair <3

#polls #round 1 #dumbass duo showdown #fandom poll #tumblr poll #tumblr bracket #tumblr tournament #fandom bracket #tumblr tourney #josuyasu #josuke higashikata #okuyasu nijimura #jjba #jojos bizarre adventure #hinata shouyou #kageyama tobio #haikyuu #kagehina

134 notes · View notes

stillness-in-green · 7 months

Text

On Heteromorphs & Heteromorphobia (Arcs VI - X , Hero Killer to Provisional License Exam)

(This post will also cover the bonus chapter “Tsuyu's Ribbity Diary.”)

Thank you all for your amazing response to last week's post, my goodness! I thought I'd found about all the audience I was likely to get for my harping about heteromorphic discrimination, so I was delighted to see a number of new names!

I do have to warn you all, if you haven't done much looking into my archives, that I'm pretty critical of BNHA these days, especially of the ways it insists on holding up individualistic solutions to problems clearly established as systemic in nature. That will become more apparent when I get into the post-war material, as the endgame is absolutely rotten with it.

This week, though, we'll start by getting out of the school to get a look at signs of and contributors to heteromorphobia in the wider world.

The Vs. Hero Killer Arc (Chapters 45-59)

Chapter 45:

Mina’s preferred alias, Alien Queen, in reference to the Xenomorph queen from the Aliens franchise, is turned down by Midnight. The reason for this is never made especially clear. Class 1-B gets away with a number of villainous or monstrous hero names, like Phantom Thief and Gevaudan, violent ones like Battle Fist, even an animal reference in Jack Mantis. But Mina, for whatever reason, gets pushed towards the indescribably twee Pinky instead. Does Midnight the R-rated hero not think girls should get to have hero names with some edge? Surely not; her entire persona is based on titillation. Length is clearly not a factor, given that Midnight personally approves Can’t Stop Twinkling. I don’t know exactly what went down here (from a Watsonian perspective, that is; the Doylist guesses are readily apparent and all eyeroll-inducing), so I will simply point out that a non-baseline gal wanted to name herself after a famous monster with acidic blood and was pressured into going with something cutesy based on her skin color instead. Bakugou’s choice gets turned down as well,[1] but he actually has “murder,” like, right there in the name; Alien Queen is quite roundabout by comparison!

Chapter 48:

Introduction of Uwabami, the Pro Hero gal with the head snakes. She’s a bit of a weird case. Given that all we know she does is find hidden people using the snakes’ keen senses, do they have some self-awareness that makes them able to communicate with her—a case somewhat like Tokoyami and Dark Shadow, perhaps? Does she just tap into their senses at will rather than being able to speak to them? Or are they rather just extensions of herself, with no particular consciousness of their own, and they function like what must be a fairly dizzying array of extra-sensory perception that she receives at all times? Whatever the case, she’s a model and celebrity, and thus our first clear example of a heteromorph who doesn’t seem to suffer for her looks. Her looks are, of course, quite accentuated, given that her hero costume is a low-cut evening dress with a slit in the side up to her hip. Other than the hair-serpents, she’s a baseline woman who checks all the boxes for modern beauty standards; she will serve in this fashion as a good predictor of other highly ranked heteromorphic Heroes.

Chapter 51+55:

Endeavor, as will be made clear in Chapter 55, doesn’t really have any idea what the Noumu’s deal is. As far as he knows, it’s just like any other villain—and yet in Chapter 51, he opens up with an attack that bathes the Noumu in flame anyway, and comments in 55 that he’s never known anyone to remain conscious after such an attack. While I think this mostly speaks to the general brutality with which villains are treated by heroes—much different from standard police practice in real-life Japan!—it’s nonetheless notable that the Noumu he attacked with such casual ferocity certainly doesn’t look very baseline to the casual eye, between the exposed brain, the significant height, and the crawling movement.

Chapter 56:

Midoriya is startled by Chief Tsuragamae’s “woof” interjections. He doesn’t comment on it out loud, so I’m not inclined to hold it against him (not like someone else I’m about to bring up), but it wouldn't be the first time he’s come across this kind of vocalization: Tsuyu makes ribbit noises pretty frequently.

Tsuragamae notes that the authorization of a certain class of people, called “heroes,” to weaponize their quirks against others was initially a heavily criticized decision, one which only garnered public support because those original heroes were careful to always obey the laws dictating the circumstances in which they used their quirks. He goes on to say, of using one’s quirk to inflict harm without explicit instruction from the powers-that-be, “Such action would represent a stunning breach of law.” Like Thirteen before him, he completely omits any mention of how such laws disproportionately affect heteromorphs, who can’t turn off a permanent physical trait, and, particularly in cases of people whose entire bodies are divergent, have little choice in whether or not to use their quirk in any sort of physical altercation that might lead to harm.

Shouto, angry over what he perceives as punishment for a good deed, calls Tsuragamae a mutt. The chief doesn’t react particularly strongly to this, but as the chief of police, you have to imagine he’s pretty used to the slings and arrows of public opinion. The incident passes without comment, but it will not be the last time we hear a Todoroki derisively referring to another human being as an animal.

There are some sweatdrops and exhortations to get the kid to cool it, but those were ongoing before the animal words came out.

Chapter 57:

Gran Torino notes that the age they live in, for better or for worse, is one of suppression, and that the situation with Stain and the League will draw people out who are influenced by that ideology. Gran doesn’t elaborate on exactly what sorts of people he has in mind—All Might says only, “Then heroes will deal with them,”—but it’s an early hint that there are people in this society who feel unjustly suppressed. Crucially, Gran Torino doesn’t even necessarily think those people are wrong; he just thinks it’s a necessary evil. But what, exactly, is it that he’s grudgingly accepting as inevitable for the sake of maintaining the status quo? And how might his circumstances need to differ for him to have a different opinion?

In Chapter 27, we learned that producing support goods requires a government license; here we find out, courtesy of Giran, that dealing in and producing support goods without such a license is a major crime. So if you, for any reason, failed that “rigorous examination” to get cleared for support goods for quality-of-life reasons, you’re unlikely to find someone who’ll just provide them to you out of sympathy provided you keep quiet about where you got them. Instead, you have little choice but to turn to black market brokers—all because the government doesn’t think your quirk is affecting you negatively enough to qualify you for support equipment. Again, this isn’t specifically about heteromorphs, but someone having an emitter quirk they can’t control well who needs the support item because they are choosing to pursue a career requiring them to learn that control is a very different case than someone who needs government support because of an immutable, always-on physical trait.

This chapter contains the first appearances of both Gigantomachia and Spinner, both fairly extreme heteromorphs: Machia for his size and rocky hide, and Spinner for animal traits considerably more prominent than e.g. Tokoyami’s bird head or even Tsuyu’s conglomeration of mildly froggy traits. Indeed, Spinner’s heteromorphic traits are so much more prominent than something like Jirou’s earlobes that it hardly seems accurate to even categorize their bodies the same way.

The sidebar for Daikaku Miyagi, the anchorman with the quirk that gave him two big horns who amputated one so that it would be less in the way during newscasts and other things that required there to be a camera on him. This in and of itself wouldn’t necessarily be notable, save that the same extra goes on to describe how the decision garnered some backlash from “a certain human rights group” who said that decisions like his fostered discrimination and were linked to the rejection of quirk-based society on the whole. Horikoshi further notes that he enjoys thinking about the lives and stories behind minor characters—even this far back, then, three and a half years before the introduction of the CRC, we have concrete evidence that the author was thinking about quirk-based discrimination and the politicization of heteromorphic features.

Chapter 59:

All Might drops some exposition about the Advent of the Exceptional, during which we see an image of a crowd full of implied-quirkless people holding up signs proclaiming their humanity and the monstrosity of those with quirks. Conversely, three of the four quirked people we see have obvious physical divergence from baseline human appearance. So from early on, that “monster” turn of phrase was heavily associated with changes in the physical appearances of those with special abilities. Later on, the PLF advisor at the hospital will tie these two things together explicitly.

The Final Exams Arc (Chapters 60-69)

Chapter 61:

Ectoplasm’s character sheet. The teeth are creepy no matter which way you cut it, but they look much more profoundly unsettling when they’re right there on his unmasked face, as opposed to behind a black cowl, where you can let your eye fool you that they are in some way part of its design. His hero costume, naturally, includes the cowl, but his daily clothes do not—I wonder if he ever tried to have a gentle talk with Shouji about why Shouji wears the mask even in his downtime? I wonder even more how much the teaching staff in general, and Nedzu and Aizawa specifically, actually know about Shouji’s history. o It’s also noted that Ecloplasm looks scary, but has received continued support after coming back to the job after losing both legs in a fight with a villain—we see this same pattern with Jeanist after Kamino. No word on how regular his support was before the traumatic double limb loss, though.

Chapter 66:

Nedzu, we find, was “toyed with by humans in all sorts of ways in the past.” Nothing we know about him suggests that he has any particular longevity, but his dynamic with Endeavor,[2] many chapters down the line, does suggest to me that he was at least on the staff when with Endeavor was at UA some thirty years ago. Thirty years is within the span of All Might’s career, well after society began to stabilize with the formalization of the Hero System. And yet, despite that, a sentient being, one with human—above human!—intelligence, was mistreated badly enough that he bears a grudge to this day. Nedzu is, again, not in precisely the same situation as a human heteromorph, but he serves as an indicator of what humans have, even in the age of heroes, been willing to do to those they think of as “animals.”

A shot of Koda and his mother, who look much alike. Interestingly, the biggest difference in their appearance is that she has horn-like protrusions that her son lacks. We’re a long way from the first quirk evolutions, and even farther from Koda’s quirk evolution, but we will later see Koda’s mother specifically tie those horns to her animal communication quirk becoming more powerful. This makes for another good piece of evidence towards Horikoshi having a grasp of heteromorphobia from early on, as the evidence is pretty good that Koda-mama got those horns as a result of a quirk evolution of her own, and those don’t happen under normal, non-stressful circumstances. More on Koda’s parents in a bit, as they're a pretty stand-out case in another way that isn’t immediately apparent here.

Can we call it foreshadowing for Koda defending Shouji at the hospital that Koda is wearing the same scarf as the main character in Horikoshi's Oumagadoki Zoo? Hmm. I'll leave that one to codenamesazanka.

Chapter 67:

A flashback panel to Mineta’s days in middle school. While I don’t doubt that there are P L E N T Y of reasons Mineta would be unpopular with the girls in his class, it is nonetheless notable that the popular boy getting showered with attention is perfectly baseline, while Mineta and his friends are not.

Note also that the cute heteromorph girl has long-ish ears and no other obvious divergent features.

Chapter 68:

Shouji and Iida are specifically called out to at the mall, trying to attract them as customers with claims that whichever storefront employee is hailing them can help them find anything they need. Midoriya mutters to himself about the difficulties of catering to everyone, given the many different types of quirks scattered across multiple age groups.

Crowd scenes at the mall show scattered numbers of heteromorphs, a somewhat higher number than usual for such civilian crowd scenes. The Kiyashi Ward Shopping Mall is noted for being the biggest and trendiest in the prefecture, with a variety that attracts lots and lots of people, so perhaps it’s no surprise to see somewhat more heteromorphs than usual there.

The Forest Training Camp Arc (Chapters 70-83)

Chapter 70:

Introduction of the Wild Wild Pussycats. A team of three Emitters and a Transformation-type, none of them in the slightest heteromorphic (give or take Tiger’s permanent :3 mouth), they nonetheless theme themselves after cats, including fake tails, big costume paw gloves, and cat-ear-esque headsets. It’s cute and unobjectionable in and of itself, but I do wonder what people like e.g. Officer Sansa think of it.

Chapter 71:

Shouji is missing from the hot springs scene. It doesn’t hugely stand out in the moment because Aoyama and Sero aren’t there either, but it does read a bit differently with the benefit of hindsight. Given the strong possibility that Aoyama is off doing Traitor Activities and Shouji is avoiding any possibility of having to torpedo the hot springs fun-times with an explanation of that time he was savagely beaten by people in his hometown right in an open street, it kinda leaves Sero as the only one who maybe just skipped for normal reasons, like that hot springs would gunk up his tape or something.

Chapter 73:

Bakugou addresses Ojiro as “Tail”—referring to him by his heteromorphic trait. He’s not even particularly angry at the moment; he’s just still nursing a grudge about Todoroki’s underwhelming performance in their Sports Festival match and wants to swap partners for the Test of Courage. Early Bakugou is very much a “judge a person by their quirk” sort.

Pixie Bob ushers Tsuyu and Ochaco into the woods for their turn at the Test of Courage by referring to the latter as Uraraka-kitty and the former as Ribbit-kitty.[3] While in the English, this reads as a baseline woman in a cat costume referring to the heteromorphic student by her animal-themed verbal tic and the baseline student by her actual name, uraraka is a fairly onomatopoeic way to say bright and cheerful. I would guess that Pixie Bob is probably referring to Ochaco’s personality here, which makes it somewhat less egregious. It won’t be the last time someone refers to Tsuyu via the frog sound instead of her name, though.

Chapter 75:

Mandalay telepathically compliments Spinner, calling him both cool and handsome. While I doubt he’s the only person in the world who’d react the way he does—he blushes, gets flustered, and missteps, giving Mandalay an opportunity to attack him—the moment does get some new context when you consider how everyone called him “the lizard freak” in his hometown. Approximately zero people calling him cool and handsome back there, one imagines! Having it immediately turn out to be a ploy likely informs some of the outraged anger in his response.

Chapter 81:

Mandalay points out that Spinner never used his quirk during their combat, implying that she doesn’t think just his lizard-like appearance or his claws “count.” Chalk another one up to the classification problems of “heteromorph” as a descriptive term. This will turn out to rather neatly illustrate one of the issues I’ve been talking about with regard to the way heteromorphs are unfairly disadvantaged by the current laws about public quirk use. Remember, a “Villain” is someone using their quirk illegally. So if Mandalay doesn’t think Spinner used a quirk here, and since he has no record, why does he get categorized as a Villain instead of just a garden variety criminal? Now, one could say that by associating with the League of Villains, Spinner is rather claiming the designation for himself, and we don’t know how the legal system will technically classify him, when and if he ever actually faces trial. To that, I would say to hold the thought, because Skeptic will eventually back me up on the, “Heteromorphs are unfairly targeted by Villain designations,” claim all but word for word.

BONUS CHAPTER 1: Tsuyu’s Ribbety Diary

We meet Tsuyu’s family, all various froggy types. They’re a cute family, but the husband and wife both being froggy kind of raises some questions about pressures that might exist about marrying your same “type,” or at least refraining from marrying anyone too obviously not. I’d be more willing to wave it off if not for two things. First, we get the same sort of scenario from Spinner’s character sheet, that his is “a family full of reptilian quirks.” Second, there are very few romances in the series between someone close to “baseline” and someone with a more extreme heteromorphic appearance. The most obvious, clear-cut, canonical example is Koda’s parents—his dad has slightly weird hair but is otherwise entirely baseline; we see him defending his wife from other peoples’ mockery. That, of course, is a single panel limited to a flashback inside a flashback, so not exactly very visible to the reader! The next-most significant one I can come up with is Natsuo and his mouse girlfriend, who has likewise been seen in one (1) panel, had no dialogue, and whose appearance and identity were so incidental the anime deleted her entirely. Who’s next? Well, if you assume all those No Comments from Kamui Woods and Mount Lady about their relationship are indicative of a relationship between them, they’d be another, though we don’t actually know what Shinji actually looks like under his mask, only the implication that it’s divergent enough that he prefers to cover his face. Next up on my tally would be Thief Takami and Tomie, but since the sum total of Takami’s animal traits are tiny little elbow wings, you can see how fast the drop-off is there. Compare this to the number of pairings/families we have between people of like type: Bakugou’s parents, Iida’s, Jirou’s, Aoyama’s, Tsuyu’s, Ochaco’s, Shouto’s, Toga’s, Spinner’s, and Tomura’s whole family on both sides. Then you get the ship-teasy stuff that’s more about crushes, people dating, or hints that are perceived as pointing towards epilogue romances: Deku and Ochaco, Jirou and Kaminari, Shindo and Yo, Gentle and La Brava, Miss Joke’s flirting with Aizawa, and Toga’s variety of crushes (among which Tsuyu is the most distant from Toga’s own body type).[4] I think Kirishima and Mina are right on that borderline, with Mina having a normal body type but a collection of minor but highly visible divergent traits. So like, the vast, vast majority of the romantic relationships in the show are between relatively baseline people. In that context, it sticks out like a sore thumb to me that Tsuyu and Spinner are both explicitly said to have the same type of animal heteromorph quality on both sides of their family tree. It’s not an incest concern or anything, just that I wonder what the pressure is on cross-type couples, or what social circles look like post-graduation.

Two classmates talk about how it’s hard to tell what Tsuyu is thinking; one of them says, with her eyes hooded and a kind of cool expression, “That expression of hers never changes. Maybe ‘cuz she’s a frog?”

Tsuyu tells us that she never really made any friends; while some of this may simply be because Tsuyu didn’t have much time to socialize, between hero training and looking after her family, it’s also true that all of her classmates that we see have baseline appearances.

This lasts until she starts getting stalked by a snake-headed heteromorph girl named Mangusu Habuko—a fellow loner. Tsuyu is initially frightened by Habuko’s behavior, but has an intuitive sense for what the deal is, that Habuko wants to be friends but is awkward and doesn’t know how to broach it.

When asked if she wants to be friends, Habuko flips out. She calls herself treacherous and untrustworthy; she calls Tsuyu a foolish frog and says she must be joking, and that she should choose her friends more carefully. She then immediately dissolves into tears. Somehow, I doubt all this self-loathing about her innate nature manifested out of thin air!

The Hideout Raid Arc (Chapters 84-97)

Something that’s observable throughout this arc is that we’re in another sequence, like the Sports Festival, where the percentage of people with heteromorphic features in the crowd shots tends to run a bit higher than the norm of the series to date. Unlike the Sports Festival, though, these crowds are just civilians, not heroes. So what’s the difference between Kamino and the earlier on-the-street crowd scenes? Well, the neighborhood the Noumu warehouse is in is a somewhat rougher area. Part of the visual shorthand for that is people in edgier clothes, stuff that’s indicative of districts with bars, clubs, sleazy hangout spots, and so forth, but another shorthand is an increased number of heteromorphs.

These panels are respectively from Chapters 87 and 92.

Chapter 87:

The character sheet for Kamui Woods notes that the story of his early childhood is “grand and compelling,” and that his story was made into a documentary. That, to me, has Inspiring True Story written all over it. Probably not coincidentally, Kamui Woods is another character whose face we’ve never seen. As more pointing in the direction of him having a childhood marked by severe discrimination, he’s not sure of his age—it’s given as “29 since he started counting.” So was he abandoned as an infant for his weird face? I could come up with other explanations, all equally over the top (extreme confinement, for example, that left him unable to properly mark the passage of time), but the fact that he can’t e.g. look up a birth certificate for himself suggests that whatever went so wrong for him, it happened very early. …Though I suppose there’s the possibility that he’s not human, but rather a tree that manifested a quirk. As documentary-worthy origins go, though, that feels less Inspiring True Story and more Educational Biopic About Rare Phenomenon.

The Provisional Hero License Exam Arc (Chapters 98-121)

Chapter 99:

Shouji’s room is shown, all but barren. He says that he doesn’t care much about owning things, but knowing what we come to know about his history, it’s easy to wonder if he really doesn’t care about owning things or if this is rooted in a childhood in which it was believed that anything he touched would be polluted. Not a situation that led to him being given much of his own, one suspects!

Chapter 103:

This chapter introduces Yokumiru Mera, from the HPSC, who gives an opening statement that has some very interesting ruthlessness lurking in its subtext. Particularly relevant to our current topic is his comment that in the modern era, the time it takes to resolve a given incident is incredibly short, so the test that year will be prioritizing speed. Prioritizing speed (wouldn’t want some other hero to get the metaphorical kill first, after all!) is a surefire way to guarantee that heroes are not taking the time to really examine all factors in a situation or make any attempts whatsoever at calm, considered de-escalation, but rather are just making snap judgements based on their biases and gut reactions. Guess what group of people that’s going to disproportionately impact? o Now, it’s notable that Mera says the test prioritizes speed, but the conclusion many others come to is that the test only pretends to do so; that actually, it prioritizes care and information gathering. Indeed, we find a few chapters later that the actual priority is teamwork, as requested by police higher-ups—the idea is to fill in the gap left behind by All Might with hero squads that work well together.[5] However, while the intention may be to gather those good at teamwork, it certainly doesn’t stop people like Shouto and Inasa from cruising through—and, in any case, whether the groups learn teamwork or not doesn’t take away from an HPSC rep telling them to their face that speed of incident resolution is one of the most important things to a modern hero and never following that up with any kind of amendment or clarification.

Chapter 107:

Introduces the HUC, or Help Us Company, professionals trained to act as victims in disaster rescue exercises. Given that context—what they’re communicating to students training to understand what “victims” look and act like—it’s extremely worth examining what they, well, look like.

God, this is so Yikes.

And having asked that question, we find that the only people in this group that might not be baseline—the ones with short, childlike statures—are dressed to emphasize that stature. The end effect is a crowd of “victims” with not a single heteromorphic representative.

Chapter 109:

Shiketsu’s class rep, Mora Nagamasa—the extremely hairy one—approaches Bakugou to extend an apology for Shishikura’s behavior during the exam. It’s noticeable here that, having matured somewhat since Early Series Bakugou, and having been approached in downtime in a reasonable manner, Bakugou manages to refrain from coming up with any demeaning nicknames centered on Mora’s appearance. Kirishima remarks internally on all the hair, but only internally; he’s much too polite to say anything out loud.

Chapter 110:

A big splashy introduction for the man ranked #3 in the Heroes Who Look Like Villains ranking, Gang Orca. He’s at the test to play villain and is, just as noticeably as all the play-victims are baseline, a heteromorph. At the time of his introduction, he’s ranked Number 10 in the Hero Rankings, but will be bumped out later on. This does, however, make him the highest-ranked known heteromorph who doesn’t have a human face,[6] with the possible exception of Kamui Woods—who, like Shouji, covers it with a mask.

Gang Orca’s character sheet notes that, while he’s a popular guest at aquariums, his intimidating face and “stony personality” always result in weepy children. He apparently finds this relatively upsetting (“lots of angst”) but, unlike Shouji or Kamui Woods, has not taken to wearing a mask, nor trying to tone down his personality on any level—to the contrary, Present Mic suggests much later on that he exaggerates it.

-----------------

Next time, I'll cover from the Shie Hassaikai arc through the end of Joint Training. Thanks for reading!

--------------------- FOOTNOTES ---------------------

[1] Initially. He sticks to his guns long enough that he gets away with it in the end, though.

[2] The big tell is that Nedzu addresses Endeavor as Todoroki-kun rather than Todoroki-san or simply by his hero name, but his observation that Todoroki-kun has “matured” (literally in the Japanese, “become an adult”) doesn’t hurt, either.

[3] Kerokero neko and Uraraka neko.

[4] You can get further out there with this, but by the time you get to e.g. Shouto and Momo or Ojiro and Hagakure, the ice is definitely getting thinner on whether you’re seeing groundwork for future wedding bells or just reasonably close male/female friendship. Your mileage may vary depending on how tightly attached your shipping goggles are or how cynical you are about shounen authors’ tendencies towards timeskip marriages. Also, I can’t be bothered to dig up and list out the crushes or shipping patterns among the Class B kids. Koroiro likes the mushroom gal?

[5] Note that Mera phrases this as being merely a stopgap until they find the next All Might. The HPSC is not so eager to change the methods they’ve come to rely on over the last thirty some-odd years!

[6] We don’t know enough for me to say for sure whether Wash is a heteromorph.

#bnha #heteromorph discrimination plot #my writing #bnha meta #bnha worldbuilding #huc for no. 1 group that needs to have mandated diversity hires #seriously there needs to be a lawsuit or something #where's that “certain human rights group” when you need them

77 notes · View notes