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yuri-is-online · 8 months

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Hi hi, Can you please to prompt 4 with Malleus,Vil, and Riddle?

4. You met someone really wonderful at the Masquerade Ball and have been ranting about how he was totally the love of your life to your abnormally quiet friend. Actually wasn't he invited too? Maybe you should ask him how that went.

Hello hello and of course I can, and I agree with the first ask you sent me. I was not really thinking of Malleus specifically when I wrote that prompt but it really does suit him doesn't it?

Oh also, welcome to the hell site. I noticed you're new from the few asks you sent me (I was so confused as to how a blank blog was talking to me), I hope you have fun with the content on here. New people are always welcome with me, I know all about being shy and uncertain of how to interact with people. I'll answer the other Malleus prompt you sent in after I have done some others, it was my bad for not realizing you were the same person haha.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, full shojo manga lack of self awareness here in Malleus's part (it is implied to take place before the Ch. 6 reveal), just don't think about it is Yuu's middle name. The rest of the requests can be found on my masterlist here.

Malleus

"Tsunotarou, you know a lot about gargoyles, right?" Such a foolish yet welcome question. Truly your unawareness of just who you are conversing with never ceases to amaze and infatuate him.

"Of course, I am something of an expert." He smiles, trying to keep it from showing the whites of his teeth.

"Oh well then you must be very happy to be in Diasomnia." Your eyes are sparkling, and he pauses. Yes he is very happy to be in Diasomnia, but not for the gargoyles. Briar Valley has long respected the legacy of the Thorn Fairy, and what better house could there be for the noblest of nobles than one that's very core is the spirit of nobility? But these are not exactly things he wishes to speak with you about, it would require detailed revelations he fears the consequences of.

"And what makes you think that, child of man?" Still there must be cause for your reasoning, and he does wish to hear it.

"Well your housewarden is one, isn't he?" You seem very pleased with yourself, but your mind is clearly very far away. Malleus stares at you, eyes wide in shock as he attempts to piece together what logic might have drawn you to such a conclusion. "I met him last night." Your dreamy sigh fills him with jealousy, just irrational enough that the thunder crack above you is quite small enough that he can convince you to remain outside of Ramshackle in conversation with him.

"Your mask is really impressive!" Your eyes always shone at the simplest displays of magic, it filled Malleus with a joy he could never quite find his fill of.

"Mask?!" Roars Sebek, his volume matching the pride rapidly feeling Malleus's chest. "Foolish human, this is more than a mere mask! This is a display of my lord's skill! A perfect recreation of old Briar Valley Masquerade tradition! His artistic talent has been woven though magic to bear his true face for the world to see-"

"That's quite enough Sebek." He does enjoy his retainers praise, but he has a task in mind that the over excited boy might- no will definitely endanger if he speaks further.

"But my lord!" Poor Sebek is torn between embarrassment, jelousy, and concern as he watches his precious lord observe you in the same manner one might a particularly expensive jewel.

"They have given me a most treasured compliment and I wish to reward them in turn." He bows, making sure to flourish his hand as he extends it, taking great pleasure in the little shudder that he only sees unaccompanied by fear in you. "May I have this dance, prefect?"

"Y-yes. You may." You seem in a daze as he takes you to the floor, just as unaware of the others around you as he is. It's wonderful, no matter how many times he visits you he has never had such a good excuse to hold you as this. Your scent, the weight of you in his arms, the way he can better familiarize himself with the subtle movements of your face is all much more real and overwhelming than he had ever imagined it being. It's all Lilia can do to drag him away, whispering teasing things about impropriety and duty to soothe the storm at his fingertips as he sees your friends scoop you up where he left off.

"He is a very handsome gargoyle. And so polite! But then I guess he is royalty so that makes sense..." The continued thunder has you inviting him in, mentioning something about tea he really can't be bothered to think about.

"No he isn't." Malleus pouts. "The nobility of Briar Valley has a reputation for being extremely dour and irrational."

"Oh. Well no wonder he seemed so happy I danced with him. Poor fellow must be very lonely." Oh if only you knew.

"Enough about my housewarden." Malleus declares without a hint of irony, bowing in a familiar fashion to prevent you from entering your kitchen. "He isn't the one you are talking to now is he? He isn't the one who you will be thinking about when you dream tonight." In a slight daze you take his hand, the living room fills with green fireflies as the storm outside slows to a halt as kinder, not softer emotions fill the young lord's heart. "He isn't the one your last dance is for, so focus on me, won't you?"

Vil

"This is why I told you to make sure whatever costume Crewel gave you came with a coat." Vil is beyond angry, with you certainly, but mostly at- life? The fact humans have an immune system that doesn't always work? You have no clue and your head is much too stuffed up to care. What you do care about is that Vil is here, and he really shouldn't be. Colds are contagious and Vil has so many things that he should be doing other than fussing over someone who is not in his dorm and not his responsibility.

"You could get sick." You say and he laughs, if you could see him, if he was not sat behind you on a bed in one of Pomefiore's empty rooms, you know the look he would have on his face. You would see his stupidly beautiful smug smile he has when he has something particularly cutting to say; instead you have to close your eyes and picture it as he pats your head dry just a bit more forcefully.

"Not my responsibility you say? You certainly seem to have a funny view of this." Vil has a word on the tip of his tongue. A word that's ambiguous, a word that would make his manager have a fit. If only she had been a fly on the wall during the Masquerade last night.

"My my, you seem a bit out of place." The tall stranger must be confused at your staring, but he seems more amused than offended. "Does my costume enchant you that much?"

"It reminded me of something." It would hard enough to explain to a friend what you are thinking of, harder still to a stranger. The scarlet costume could have been taken from a playbill, you find yourself looking him over for any sign of a folio. You highly doubt it's you the Red Death wants to capture tonight, but you cannot say you will protest too loudly if that's what he decides. "Sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

"Quite the opposite," the stranger does not ask you to dance, merely extends his hand and gracefully leads you off to the side when you take it, "so long as you praise me out loud you can look as long as you like."

"It's not like you got me sick." You sneeze into your tissue and Vil frowns, satisfied with your care but not with your answer. He had his suspicions that you may have made a... mistake in your assessment of your time at the Masquerade. But it did hurt him slightly to think that you did not know his essence well enough to have recognized him at once. "And I did get a costume with a cloak, I just gave it to the Red Death because it was too weird to see him without it."

"Mhmm I don't know." you say. It's such a shame Vil can only see your lips, he loves it when you tease him so much already it isn't fair he has to focus on something so tauntingly close and yet so far out of reach. "I think your costume is incomplete."

"Oh?" Vil makes sure to hold you close to him as the song ends, daring anyone to come close enough to try and steal your attention so he can laugh at the attempt. "What's your reasoning for that? Depending on what you have to say, I just might agree." You back out of his arms and make a frame with your fingers. "Kiss me." He begs silently. "Kiss me and leave a mark." But instead you unwind your cloak and fix it to his shoulder.

"Perfect. Now you really look like the portrait." And to his great despair you are gone.

Despite your earlier stated worries, you fall back into Vil's chest, tilting your back to look up at him. "When I'm not sick remind me to tell you about the Phantom of the Opera? I wanted to spend more time dancing with him, but I was feeling too much at home and got scared he'd vanish." Vil's eyes shine with a strangely familiar light, and he gently guides you under the bed's covers. Just before he leaves he kisses your forehead so gently it's all you can do not to cry.

"I think your phantom might be closer than you think." He murmurs against your skin and leaves you to sleep, tucking you under a mysteriously familiar red cloak as soon as your eyes are well and truly closed.

Riddle

"You will be too tired to do anything after the ball, so make sure to shower and go directly to bed."

It was good advice based off of a reasonable assumption, and technically you were not in fact physically doing anything. You were also quite tired, you had expected to spend most of the ball on the outskirts observing the display of feathers and paints but that was far from what actually happened. You don't think you had ever danced in your life as much as you had in the past six hours. It would be extremely reasonable to assume that after scrubbing yourself free of makeup and sweat you would be down for the count.

But you weren't. Your mind was running a mile a minute, eyes constantly glancing at your phone on your nightstand. It's an odd feeling, wanting to call someone and not being able to. It is also a feeling you have become deeply familiar with, the ache it produces might as well be permanently woven into your heart, you should be immune to the pain at this point.

This time though, this time the person you want to call could theoretically be within reach. This person was someone you could touch, someone you could hold, someone whose touch still lingered against your hands.

The little knight was just as awkward as you were, if he didn't immediately stutter out a protest you would have thought he was just as inexperienced with the whole formal party thing as you were.

"I know what I'm doing I just-"

"Then can you show me how to dance? I've been practicing but I'm not great at it." He stares at you, and you are worried you said something wrong until he laughs, it sounds smug you think but you can't be sure.

"That's the proper way to ask for a dance." He takes your hand in his as he bows, kissing it so gently you half think it was your imagination. "This is."

You pick up your phone before it buzzes, immediately sitting up in shock when you see just who is messaging you at 3:30 am on a Friday.

[Riddle] Are you still awake prefect?

[Yuu] Ace is that you.

[Yuu] I'm not covering for you if Riddle finds out you took his phone again (¬_¬)

[Riddle] What do you mean again?

The little knight's dance is stiff at first, but he relaxes as you continue. He has been guiding you to the center of the room, you belatedly realize. You must have looked frightened once you did. "It would be rude to stay in the corner during the slower songs." He squeezes your hand to bring your attention back to him. "It isn't against the rules to be bad at dancing, but it is to monopolize other people's space."

"Aren't you doing that right now?" You tease and he stops leading you, almost as if he hadn't even considered that.

"Are you not enjoying yourself?" He almost sounds afraid and you find yourself having to take over the direction of your movements.

"I didn't say that." Your knight almost seems to grow ten feet tall at your praise before he becomes aware of himself again and gets a bit bashful. But he does not take over again, content to let you set the pace of your dancing for the rest of the night.

[Riddle] Actually disregard that. Since you are awake, would you mind coming to your window? I understand throwing rocks is considered romantic but breaking a window would be most unfitting behavior for a housewarden.

You are tempted to tell him you are waiting for a message from someone else, but the unusual behavior has you at your window before you can even full form the thought. You almost drop your phone at the sight you see below you.

Riddle expected to have difficulty making eye contact with you. He expected to be teased about his failure to follow his own good advice, his costume has got to be a mess between the dancing he did with you earlier and the pacing he did once he got back to Heartslabyul.

But neither of those happen. Neither matters, instead you see him and the familiar scrap of paper you had given him with your number and a heart and fly down the Ramshackle steps into his outstretched arms.

"I'm so glad it was you I danced with tonight."

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #malleus draconia x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #500 followers celebration #malleus is just delulu enough to be jealous of himself and you cannot convince me otherwise #also i understand that malleus and vil's voice actors were actually in a production of phantom together before being in twst #as the phantom and Raoul respectively? or did i hallucinate that #anyway i just think vil suits the phantom role and will be making more references to that in the future

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ashlayan · 9 months

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Pleasantries

Tw: SFW, can be read as gender neutral tho written with a fem reader in mind, fluff.

Pairing: Wanderer x Reader

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"There's no need to exchange pleasantries. It's rather pathetic to force a conversation, just to occupy silence."

"Sure buddy," you say with an eye roll "so you've said a million times already."

The two of you have set up a small camp near the outskirts of Sumeru City, taking a rest after a long afternoon of clearing the fatui infested routes. You were sitting across from each other with a small camp fire between you.

"And yet idiots like you keep asking me pointless questions." He replies haughtily.

"It's what friends do dude, you chat together about stuff you like, or... " You smile mischievously. "Would you rather when it's my turn to cook, I make you a pile of extra sweet tricolored dango? Or what if, say, I hand them over to you as a gift in front of Nahida?" He glares. "Something tells me she won't just let you dump them somewhere." You say smugly.

"...I'd like to see you try."

"I'm just saying, that would definitely make you annoyed right? So you like, have to tell me your likes and dislikes." You pull out a notebook and pen from seemingly nowhere and prepare yourself to write; "Go on then don't be shy," you smile cheekily, "tell me everything."

He sighs. "...Fine, just to shut you up." He looks up towards the night sky. "I loathe overly sweet things, even more so if they stick to my teeth. As for favorites... I guess in that regard, the simpler the better."

The wanderer watches as you scribble into your notebook, it's cover turned to him so he can't actually see the contents of the page. "I see, and what drinks do you enjoy?" You continue.

"Something with a rather bitter flavor to it would suit me well. Any sugary drinks are certainly out of the question."

You hum. "Makes sense." You say distractedly, then flip the notebook and show him you had not, in fact, been writing anything he told you. Instead there were poorly drawn stick figures of the both of you holding hands and smiling. "Say, do you think I have a future in the art business?"

"Well, that's just downright awful." He scoffs. "No one would hire you. You lack understanding of basic human anatomy; the arms are too short, the torso too thin, the face is almost beyond salvation, and the hair... I'm not even sure it's supposed to be hair. Do better."

You fall out of your seat cackling, your whole body shaking. "Dang dude you're brutal!" It takes effort for you to subdue your laughs. You stand, but instead of returning to your previous seat you go sit on the log next to him, still giggling to yourself.

"Well, I try. You asked for my opinion, you should expect nothing less than honesty."

" 'K, 'k. So, what about you? Can you draw?" You sit next to him, but angle your body to face his.

"I've never been very good at it, to be honest. The only things I can draw are maps and blueprints. I've even used to have a rather elaborate sketchbook full of those."

"Oh?" You say, grabbing your notebook-now-revealed-sketchbook again, flipping it to a new page. "Were those from your fatui days? When you were planning... Fatui things?"

"You could say that. My drawings of my personal projects in particular were highly confidential. I only showed them to my closest confidants."

"I'm surprised you even had confidants, with that nasty temper you had back then." You pick up your pen and go back to your scribbling.

He crosses his arms "You're really testing my patience here."

"What?" You respond teasingly, eyes focused on your work in the sketchbook. "You're the one that likes honesty so much!" You challenge.

"Fair enough. Then I'll be upfront with you: your drawing skills suck. They're terrible. If you think there's talent in that hand of yours, you're lying to yourself."

"Mhm..." You respond distractedly, your sketchbook turned away from him like before.

"Are you even listening to me?" In a flash, he's reaching for the sketchbook to see whatever it is you're-

You slap his hand away, albeit not harshly. "You'll see when I'm done ."

"...Fine. Keep your damn secret. What could that page possibly be for? You still think you can be an artist, don't you?"

You look up at him sharply, and keep eye contact for a long moment, long enough he worries he'd actually managed to offend you, but then you go right back to the sketchbook, ignoring him once more.

"...You really are the most annoying person I've ever met." He grumbles.

That brings a chuckle out of you. "Funny I could say the same about you," you respond easily, then glance up at him with a soft smile "but you know, you're also my favorite person to hangout with.

"...Did you just make a romantic implication?"

"Maybe I did and maybe I didn't." You reply casually, going back to your work.

He raises a brow. "Hmm. Do you happen to have feelings for me by any chance?"

"Is that your attempt to get a confession? Or maybe..." You glance up at him with a smirk, "Fishing for compliments, wanderer?"

His face flushes a soft purple. Pretty you think. "That was absolutely not what I was doing, I was simply... uh..."

You giggle. "Either way," you say, rising from your seat and carefully tearing out the page you'd been working on, then handing it over, revealing a sketched portrait of himself, signed : What if I do like you? -(y/n). You take a step back, awaiting his reaction, feeling uncharacteristically nervous.

"What... He stares at the drawing in awe for a few moments ...How did you manage to capture my likeness this fast? This is almost creepy." He adds the last comment almost out of habit, clearly not meaning it one bit.

"Then I guess I should spend less time with you? That is the only reason I was able to draw you this fast... Maybe we should hangout less, since you find it so unsettling." You say with mock offense.

"No, that's not... Don't leave. And didn't you promise not to, anyways?"

He stands and takes a few steps closer to you and looks at the drawing again. "My hat... the sleeves... that's all correct. Are you, by chance, a professional artist in disguise?"

"Just a hobby," you answer, "though don't think I was born with special talent or anything, it took lots of practice."

"I..." He lightly runs a finger on the lines, careful not to smudge them, not that the material he's made out of can really do that. "It's beautiful. I could never replicate your passion to the craft, even if I spent my entire existence practicing. He looks towards you. "It's an honor to be the subject of your drawing. I'll keep it, as a keepsake."

That's unfair you think, flushing. "I'm glad you like it but..." You point at the signature, your blush deepening. "You're not gonna answer that? It's rude to keep a lady waiting."

"I was expecting you to confess directly if you did have feelings for me, this shy side of yours is quite unusual." He chuckles. "I've always found that directness of yours charming, to be honest. My feelings for you... are complex, but if I know one thing about you, it's that you always manage to surprise me." A smirk spreads across his features."

"...So what's your answer?" You ask carefully.

"I'm a bit surprised myself. I've never felt so... connected to someone. If you like me, even as just a friend, then my feelings for you will only increase. I enjoy spending time with you." He takes a long breath. "And... I think I've started liking you... romantically."

You sigh in relief, and start shifting your weight from leg to leg oh archons that was nerve-racking.

"I thought you liked being straightforward. You've been teasing me this entire time, why be nervous all of a sudden?" He says with a smirk.

You glared at his teasing, though without any real heat behind it, you shove him lightly on the arm "Shut up." You mumble.

He chuckles. "You really are adorable, you know that?"

You mock pout and play along. "I'm not adorable!" You speak in the most cutesy tone you can muster. "I am a beast to be reckoned with," You raise your pitch further, "a monster of nature!"

He bursts out laughing. "You couldn't scare a butterfly."

You halt, cutesy voice already gone and a dangerous glimmer in your eyes, you take one step forward towards him, your eyes not leaving his "Funny, you said I had horrible drawing skills yet look how that turned out." You take another step, and with your mouth now next to his ear you whisper darkly. "Do you want to bet?"

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, his heart started racing as he took a step away from you. "...Maybe I shouldn't have said that."

You burst out laughing. "Oh my gosh your face!" You say, happy tears welling up at the corner of your eyes. "I got you good! Pffffft-"

"...You suck."

You laugh harder, letting yourself slide down to the floor like before. "S-sorry, but hey! You're the one who underestimated me first!" You say gasping for air.

"You nearly gave me the equivalent of a heart attack, you little..." He sighs, his expression serious. "...So I suppose this means you like me too?"

"Your laughs die down, and you start regaining your breath, you raise your hand cheekily, motioning for him to help you up "What do you think?"

"...I think you can help yourself." He crosses his arms and looks away from you.

"Oh come on don't be like that!" You say grinning. "Just help me up and I'll give you your answer."

"...Fine." He walks towards you, grabbing your hand as he asks "So what's the verdict?"

Just as he starts pulling however, you bring him down on the ground next to you, and just before he has a chance to protest, you wrap your arms around his neck bringing your faces so close with just a few inches between you.

"...Woah, easy now. You really do have a flare for the dramatic."

He lets out a sigh in defeat, in another life, the empty cavity of his heart would have been thumping at the contact.

"But doesn't it make everything so interesting?" You say, slowly inching closer, your eyes glancing between his eyes and lips.

The Wanderer can barely manage a response, "...Yes. Yes, I suppose it does."

And then, you close the distance between your lips, his eyelids falling shut.

The moment your mouths meet, a feeling of pure euphoria washes over you. You can't help but close your eyes, sinking deeper into the kiss. He pulls you closer and you gladly let him, wanting to experience every possible sensation you could in this moment, your mouths locked together. Your heart races, pumping blood and joy through your body, making you feel like it would burst at any second.

After a long moment, you pull away slowly, already mourning the loss of contact but needing to catch your breath. "Well that was... Nice." You giggle at your own underwhelming response, fully aware the kiss was much more than nice.

"...Nice?" He repeats, looking down at you, his face a bright purple color as he tries to compose himself. "Is that all you have to say?"

"I'm just teasing, you're an annoyingly good kisser Wanderer." This better not raise his ego further.

He tries to act cool and unfazed, but it's useless. "R-really? Are you sure about that? I mean, it was nice, but... it was... Uh."

"Yes I'm sure." You say firmly, rising, and pulling him up with you. "It was perfect."

His eyes narrow as if he didn't quite believe you.

"Yes. It was." You insist , then, back to your usual teasing you say: "Or do you want more compliments oh great and wise Wanderer?"

He groans, covering his face with his hands. "You're going to milk every moment of this, won't you?!"

"But of course! Can you really call yourself my boyfriend if you weren't subjected to my teasing in your every waking moment?"

"Boyfriend?" He looks back up, his expression slightly confused, then "Right... Yes. That's... Gonna take some getting used to."

You sigh dreamily at his cute expression, then throw your arms around him in a hug and sqweel at his cuteness.

He remains still for a few moments, then starts gently stroking your head.

But at some point, you stop and pull away slightly, you don't let go of him however. "Wait! Would Nahida approve of me?"

You manage to catch him off-guard, not expecting you to break the embrace so quickly. "You want her to give us her blessings? Is that what this is about? I think, all things considered, she'd be more than happy to learn that I found someone who appreciates me as much as you do."

"Still, she's basically your mom!" You say, starting to drag him towards the Sanctuary of Surasthana as he squirmed in your hold. "We should pay her a visit. Oh! Maybe we can grab her a gift at the bazaar first!"

He sighs, then stops resisting, and lets you pull him along, knowing there's not a whole lot he can do to stop you. "You really want to involve her in this?" He sighs again."Very well. Let us go."

#genshin Impact #genshin community #genshin #genshin wanderer #wanderer #wanderer genshin impact #(y/n)#fluff #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #x you #x reader #scara

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tieflingtareon · 7 months

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My love, are you the devil? (Oh, call me a devil)

Chapter 16 | Words: 3.3k

Summary: Astarion found himself often surprised by his heroic companion. He had one goal. To become the favoured companion of the group, to earn the Tieflings loyalty, to make Tar'eons strength his own. Yet Tar'eon isn't like the usual target of his manipulations. Despite his naivety, he does not seem gullible. There is something very wrong with their 'leader' to begin with. Astarion isn't sure if he wants to control it or eradicate the threat it posed. But can he really do either when Tar'eon himself seems so...unwaveringly kind?

That devil is getting into his head, while others get into Tar'eons. He doesn't appreciate not having the upperhand after years of being at the disadvantage. He will find a way to make him see.

He is the one he should be listening to. Astarion would make it so, no matter the means.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50668558/chapters/127995079

Warnings: Self Harm/Self-Punishment, violent thoughts.

“A living vampire? A living vampire! A living vampire…” Tar’eon watched Astarion pace the small room, waiting for him to collect himself. He had a good feeling it was better to wait and feel it out. Astarion looked drawn tighter than his bow in battle.

After another couple of paces, Astarion knocked an old wine bottle off the dresser and growled when it didn’t break instantly. Like he'd been hoping it would shatter and ease some of the anger. Tar'eon didn't flinch. He'd been waiting for the outburst, patient to have Astarion come back to him once he wasn't so wound up.

“Cheap shit.” He cursed before sitting down on the bed, hands on his knees, a scowl marring his features. “…Cazador needs me. That’s why he’s trying to get me back. Without me, there’s no ritual to be had. I was the first spawn in his little farce. And the key to unlimited power.”

“As long as we keep you from Cazador, he won’t ever get that power.” Tar'eon assured.

“You don’t understand. He is — obsessive. He’s been working on this for two centuries. Which sure, is a short time for a vampire, but it is still…so much time. So much preparation...” Astarion sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’ll chase me to the ends of Fae’run. He won’t ever let me go. Not as long as I carry this scar…”

“We could have it removed. Find someone with the skill. Hells, Gales is a wizard, maybe somewhere in his tomes..."

“It’s a pact. An infernal one at that. It won’t just go away. It’ll come back. Devils are pesky like that. If anything, I'd have to make another deal to avoid the current one.” Astarion worked his jaw, flexing it with irritation before he deflated, hanging his head. “I have to take the fight to him.”

“You won’t be alone.” Tar’eon placed his hand over his and squeezed. “I’ll be by your side. We all will. This fight isn’t one you have to do on your own.”

“What do you suggest? We storm his palace and slit his throat while he sleeps? He’ll know we’re there the moment we arrive. We can’t beat him.” He sounded hopeless despite his righteous anger, fisting his hands.

“Yes, we can. We’ve taken on cultists and hellbeasts all on our own. A vampire lord? I might just break a sweat, but it’ll be worth it.” His humorous words coaxed a smile onto Astarion’s lips, obviously trying to stifle it, but Tar’eon sat closer, grinning to himself. “Have some faith in me. In us. We’re more powerful together than a pesky vampire lord with a kick for torture.”

“You’re incorrigible. You won’t let this go, will you?” Astarion chuckled. “Always the hero.”

“Always. I always want to be your hero, ph myirz.” Tar’eon tipped his chin up and smiled down at the almost hazy softness to his ruby eyes, lacking their sharp and cutting edges. Like he'd forgotten to put his mask back on. It made Tar'eons heart swell. “I told you. I want to protect you.”

“Because I’m oh-so-fragile, darling? I could end your life if I got a bit more greedy during my feedings. You know that, don’t you?” Astarion tutted, a glint of mirth in his eyes, that mask morphing back into place, and Tar'eon tried not to be bothered by the reappearance of it.

“I do. And no, I don’t want to protect you because you’re fragile.” He caressed his cheek with the back of his hand, deep adoration in his mismatched eyes. “I…I have many reasons why. But that’s not one of them. I know you’re capable. Strong. You're a survivor above all else. It’s some of the traits I like most about you.”

He didn’t want his blood on his hands. He was protecting him from more than just Cazador. Keeping him safe meant from himself as well. He never wanted his urges to turn against his myirz.

“You’re buttering me up, aren’t you? Did you change your mind about spending this night merely resting then?” Astarion said in a low, seductive voice, his fingers curling into the laces of his shirt. Tar’eon chuckled and took his wandering hand, raising it to his lips to kiss, from his fingertips and upon each joint until he reached his knuckles.

“No. I haven’t. Does my devotion to you always make you this antsy to jump my bones?” He huffed a soft laugh, enamoured by Astarion's playfulness.

“I mean, having a person bend to my wishes is quite fun.” Astarion smirked, eyes darkening at the idea. "And you do so so beautifully, my darling devil."

“Oh? Is that so? You enjoy making me a slave to your every whim? I never would have guessed given how...august you are." The sarcasm was weaved into his words and Astarion laughed, light and airy.

“Who said anything about slavery? If anything, I enjoy being worshipped. Am I not beautiful enough to sit amongst Gods, rather than mortals?” He ran a hand through his hair, pale curls falling upon his brow. A practised move.

“If I say yes, will you let me be the big spoon?”

“Oh, you’ll be big spoon whether you like it or not. I do not see the appeal of being a literal leech on your back.” Astarion barked a laugh at the very idea before his expression grew serious. “Are you certain you don’t want to? I won’t offer again if you say no.”

“I am. I don’t want to sleep with you, Astarion.” Tar'eon insisted for the third time.

“Fine, well…Can I ask why?” It seemed to be bothering the vampire, so Tar’eon leaned back on his palms and thought about it, taking his query seriously. He didn’t want to scare Astarion by admitting to the violent urges he’d felt during the intense kiss in the crypt. He wasn’t sure he was ready to even speak of it out loud without spiralling.

“Because I want to hold you.”

“So hold me. We don’t have to exclude a little fun beforehand.”

“Why are you so persistent about me sleeping with you tonight?” Tar'eon turned the question on him and Astarion frowned, looking uncomfortable.

“I simply don’t understand why you don’t want to.” Astarion wasn’t speaking the whole truth, and Tar’eon knew it, but he didn’t say anything. He wasn’t going to force it from the man. He preferred when Astarion came to him, ready to open up just that little bit further. It was more gratifying that way, to have the vampire chose to divulge his thoughts to him. It’s why he never used the magic of the tadpole with him, voluntarily at least, even if it twisted him up inside at times, not knowing what the man was thinking.

“It’s not that I’m against sleeping with you altogether, Astar. But the desire to be close to you in other ways is a higher priority to me. Especially tonight.” He wanted to commit the feeling of him in his arms, the ticklish curls against his lips and the soothing coolness of his flesh, to memory. In case there was a day he could no longer experience it for himself. Lest there be a day he had to part ways with Astarion, for the vampires own safety.

“Darling, sex is the closest you can get to people, full stop.” Astarion said like Tar’eon was naive, and maybe he was. He hadn’t lived nearly as long as Astarion, but he had learnt quite a bit in the short time he could remember.

“Okay. Maybe to you. Not to me.”

“Pray tell, what is closer than being inside one another?” Astarion looked exasperated, looking at him expectantly.

Tar’eon chuckled, “I could show you.”

“Absolutely not.” Astarion rolled his eyes. “I am not wasting time on such a ridiculous notion. Just say it plainly so I can laugh at you. It’ll satisfy me more than sex, if that makes you feel better.”

“Laughter can be better than sex. There’s a million things I consider to be better than sex.”

“Do tell.” Astarion propped his chin in his palm, appearing bored, but Tar'eon could tell he was focusing on him.

“Well...good food?"

“I suppose we can agree on that. But I do enjoy sinking my teeth into you when you’re filled up with all those lovely hormones.” Astarion purred.

“Good music.” Tar'eon continued, ignoring his flirtation.

“Gods, don’t even. If you ever start singing mid-fuck, I’ll rip your vocal cords out.”

“Astar, please stop relating things to sex.”

“Hard not to when you’re sitting there looking all kinds of delicious.” Astarion continued regardless, pushing the limits like he always did.

“You think you don’t look good? Because you do. You look gorgeous.” Illuminated by candlelight in the darkness of the room, orange hues flush against his pale features, against the ruby colour of his eyes, silhouetting his frame, draped in expensive silk...It was somehow twice as beautiful as seeing him beneath the light of the moon on their first night together. Before, he had appeared angelic but near untouchable. Something to revere, to awe and fear. Tonight, he looked softer, warmer, more real.

Tonight, he looked like he would breath the same air as him, looked alive, rather than something that would be beautifully preserved and unchanging until the end of time.

“Of course I do. I’m a vampire. We’re supposed to be alluring, sweetheart.”

“It’s not because you’re a vampire, Astarion. It’s not because you’ve got red eyes and pale skin, or even because you have fangs I’ve grown quite fond of. It’s because I like you.” Tar'eon tried to explain, unable to put all his feelings into words that Astarion would hear, would accept.

“What about me exactly? My devilish charm? My poetic words? My divine body?" Astarion leaned in closer, raising himself onto one knee as he toyed with his collar, brushing cold fingers along his hot neck as his lips rested against a pointed ear. He wasn't listening, and Tar'eon pursed his lips. "Or perhaps you like my tongue, and all the things it can do for-“

“Astarion, stop it." Frustration laced into his plea against his will, a hand on the mans stomach to stop him from breaching what little distance was between them. "Can’t you just let this be? For one night?” The advancing vampire bristled at the rejection and sat back with a glower.

“I don’t know how to do this, okay?" He said, voice tight with bitter resentment.

“Do what?” Tar'eon didn't understand why he was pressing the matter, why he was being so prickly over a simple refusal.

“This.” Astarion gestured between them with a scowl. “I don’t know how to be what you want right now.”

“I don’t want you to be anything! I just wanted to hold you, okay?”

“Well I don’t know how to do that.”

“What? Be held?” Tar'eon asked, like it was a ridiculous notion, something you just knew instinctively.

“Yes.” He hissed before his anger seemed to recede, looking rather self conscious now, like was unsure. Doubtful of what to do with himself when put in such a position. “I…don’t know how to be with you. You’re always so…I thought I had you all figured out.” He looked upset with himself, for not having all the cards in his hands.

“Well, perhaps not.” Tar’eon softened, reaching for his hand, but Astarion pulled it away, keeping both hands in his lap. Denying his comfort. “That’s not a bad thing, Astarion. We…this is new for the both of us. You know that, don’t you? We haven’t known each other long, in the grand scheme of things.”

“I thought you wanted me." Astarion didn't seem to be listening to him, not really, his eyes avoiding his. The distance growing wider, like a chasm opening up between them despite only being inches apart on the bed. "I don't understand why you suddenly don't."

"It's not that I don't." Tar'eon let out a breathless laugh like he could not fathom not wanting that intimacy with him. Truthfully, he wanted everything. "Astarion, I want you more than anything." He licked his lips, feeling the sting of the wound Astarion inflicted upon him. It was a pain he welcomed. A reminder of their connection, however tangled and knotted up it was.

"I could have you a million ways, and never be satisfied. I would...I would always hunger for you, always want more, but I could also be content with being given nothing." Tar'eon shifted, turning to face Astarion head on, needing him to hear his words, no matter how far away he may be. "You could refuse me every night for the rest of my life, and I would be happy to just be in your presence. I- I ache for you in ways I can't explain."

He swallowed hard, Astarions unreadable expression making his heart pound harder, butterflies and anxiety warring in his gut.

"I didn't want to tell you because I know it might scare you away. How...intensely I want you."

How intensely I love you.

Astarion was so still he could have been mistaken for an elaborate piece of art, for stone and marble. Tar'eon waited for him to speak, and seconds ticked on, dragging out painfully slow. Hesitantly, he raised his hand to touch Astarions face. He wasn't even breathing, but his inhale was sharp at the contact, breaking away from it and staggering away from the bed so fast Tar'eon could feel the breeze against his body. There was a sudden lack of warmth beside him, as ironic as it was. Tar'eons heart dropped.

"I...I need some air." Astarion finally spoke, voice rough as he turned on his heel and made for the door.

"Astar-" Tar'eon stood quickly, hooking his fingers into the crook of his elbow to make him stay, to make him speak what was on his mind before he took it with him and shut him out completely.

"Don't- do not keep me here." Astarion didn't even look at him, but he looked like he was trying to crawl into himself, smaller than Tar'eon had ever seen him. "I am not the one who should be here..." Tar'eons brows furrowed, not understanding his vague words. "So let me go. Now."

"Astar...Please. I'm not asking you to accept my feelings right now, I just...I needed you to know that I care about you. Past sharing a bed together, if that's what you had assumed."

"I said I need air, dammit!" The vampire snapped and pulled himself free, stumbling a few steps back with a heartbreaking expression Tar'eon could not name, not in the heat of the moment, but it felt like a sucker punch to the solar plexus regardless, watching Astarion turn to the door to flee. Flee from him.

Tar'eon expected a slam. Somehow, the gentle click of the door closing was worse. He swallowed hard, the weight on his chest becoming so unbearable he couldn't breathe.

He slowly approached the door, his hand brushing over the thick wood, tracing over the dips of its design. He knocked his horns against it and clenched his jaw, forcing the urge to cry back.

In doing so, another urge reared its head.

He held his head and furrowed his brow, the screaming echo in his mind ceaseless, his tadpole squirming, burrowing deeper like even it was trying to escape the violent wrath impending upon his mind. His vision was plague with images; Alfira's body, Nere's decapitated head, the sinking of the duergars body falling back, sinking into black waters. Bodies and bodies, stacked upon each other, the taste of blood filling his mouth, but it was a different taste to his own, a terrifyingly realistic memory to his taste buds. Gale's blood, rotten and metallic.

It continued, trying to drive him to madness as the thoughts forced themselves to the front and centre. Thoughts of squeezing until his claws broke past skin and bone, thumbs gouging into frightened red eyes, the satisfying sound of sinking his fingers into gore, into brain matter and squelching tissue, feeling cold blood run in rivets down his wrists.

He gasped, the ache like an anvil, mouth full of saliva with the desire to heave even as his heart pounding with the thrill of the kill, even the illusions of one. His gut was growing hot with anger, raging against the urge that wanted to control him just like the tadpole.

He bared his canines as he turned away from the door, refusing to follow after the man, lest he lose control. His knees felt weak, collapsing in on himself, his vision spotting. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he held his head, claws biting into his scalp. He realised the spots were because he wasn't breathing, holding trapped air in his chest, holding back the need to sob, whether from heartache or terror, he wasn't sure.

He opened his eyes and forced himself to suck in more air, his chest feeling ready to explode before he unleashed a roar, grasping the nearest object and slamming it into corner of the wardrobe, watching the wine bottle shatter on impact. Like it could scare the urge away.

He tasted blood once more, something more familiar. His own. He licked his lips, and recognised the taste was coming from above his top lip, rather than the puncture wound on his bottom. He reach up and wiped the blood from his nose, finally noticing the sting of the cut across it. He looked down at the glass at his knees and could tell which one had sliced him, a tag of skin caught on it's sharp edge.

He panted softly, finally able to breathe, but it didn't stop the whispers, the growing noise in his head, louder than the tadpole had ever been. Shakily, he stood, the neck of the bottle still in his right hand. It had turned it into a jagged, uneven thing. Useless for holding wine. He stared at the blood on his other hand, turning his gaze towards the full length mirror by the bed, his cloak, gifted to Astarion, hanging off the edge. He watched his reflection.

He looked like a beast. Hunched in on himself, blood pouring down around his nostrils and onto his mouth, the feral, terrified look in his eyes making it hard to reconcile himself with the image before him. He looked like something that might haunt the Shadow Lands, rather than something that was trying to lift it's curse. Something ghoulish, something monstrous.

He came to stand before the mirror, staring at his own face with burning intensity despite the fear making his stomach roil.

"I won't let you hurt him. I won't let you hurt any of them."

The urge still yearned for blood, screamed for it, thrashing against the bars of it's cage. Tar'eon would not let it free. He would not kill another innocent. He would not maim his friends.

"If you want blood; then you will settle for ours." He brought the jagged glass to his arm, pressing down until it surpassed the notion of pain and turned to agony, blood spilling down his forearm, dripping onto the floor in soft, wet splats.

It didn't silence the noise. The Urge. But it brought clarity to his own mind. Put him one step ahead of it, however precarious the step was. Threatening to crumble beneath his weight at any moment.

His left arm quivered, pain sharp and burning. He reached for his pack despite the agony of the action and fished out a healing potion with trembling fingers.

He looked at himself in the mirror as he pulled the top off, almost dropping it more than once, hand around the bottle slicked with his own blood. He shot it back and groaned, the relief a godsent.

He would not let himself be controlled by the monster in the depths of his soul. He would bleed enough to water a field as long as it kept his friends alive.

His life, a life he could not even remember, was not worth theirs.

It was not worth his.

#astarion x dark urge #astarion x mc #astarion x tav #astarion x male tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #astarion bg3 #bg3 tav #astarion #baldurs gate tav

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ryuichirou · 7 months

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Hey there, Ryuichi! 👋🏻

i hope you do not mind asking me this, but you're one of my favourite Artists 💕 and i noticed how frequently you post your art and it makes me wonder how much your drawing in your free time...?

I used to be an artist myself just like you, but unfortunately, i lost my passion for it specifically because of lack of time to do so, and i lost motivation 💔 (another reason might also be that i tend to compare my art to other talented artist which makes me insecure) i haven't drawn in years. I want to get back to it! but i just can't find the motivation like i mentioned earlier, which is why i wanted to ask you: How do you find the Time/Motivation to draw? and if you have any tips?

I'm also staying anonymous cuz I'm shy 👉🏻👈🏻

Hi Anon!

Thank you for such a sweet ask, I am very happy and honoured to hear that I’m one of your favourite artists.

To answer your question, I spend pretty much every free moment drawing, but that’s just because I am so used to drawing all the time. This has been my main activity for almost my entire life lol so I don’t really get art blocks or dips in motivation. But I still understand what you’re talking about.

To be honest, despite drawing pretty much all day, these days I have ~3 hours of free time drawing for myself (except weekends), because I spend the rest of the time working, which is also drawing… Although ~3 hours probably doesn’t sound like “having no time to draw”, it’s usually not enough for me, I guess? So I have to prioritize certain ideas and simplify sketches sometimes, with the idea that I’ll get back to them and fix/add to them later. So if you can get an hour or even 30 minutes of free time to just sit down and draw just a little bit, even if it’s just doodling some ideas for the future (remember that you can always come back to them later) or studies, it would be great, because it’ll get your brain working in that direction again. Don’t stress it too much; once again, even if it’s just a little sketch of a flying head, it’s something. Which means it’s good! Some days you’ll have more time and energy and you’ll draw more. Some days you’ll barely draw anything, but this repetition is still very important. I guess the first tip I’m trying to give you is that it’s important to have discipline and create a timeslot for your drawing, preferably every day or every other day. Just to kick things off.

When it comes to comparing yourself to others, yeah it can be a serious issue that kills your motivation. And it’s easy to say “just don’t do that”, but I’ll still say it in a bit of a different way: try to keep in mind that if this artist was able to do that, it’s not unachievable for you. I usually try to either get inspired by other artists or to analyze them, trying to look for what exactly there is that I love about their art and would like to do myself. But also, you don’t have to draw like them. It’s cheesy, but no one can do what you do other than you.

When it comes to the likes, because it can be upsetting sometimes when you look at the numbers that other people make despite you having similar content, try to either ignore it altogether (another “easy to say” advice, I know) or keep in mind that there are other reasons behind the number of likes and not just the art itself.

We usually look at the artists whose skill is so stupidly high that it doesn’t feel like a competition anymore lol So we can only look at them in awe…and think about how to recreate some of the effects from their work.

Another very important thing that I love to talk about is that you should remember how fun it feels to draw. Try to think what made you fall in love with drawing and what your favourite thing to draw was. Indulge in it, draw it as many times as you want. Draw any idea you have an inkling for, even if it feels weird or stupid; I genuinely think that it makes the creative part of your brain work better and makes you enjoy the process of drawing more. Art is hard, it requires discipline, but it shouldn’t feel as a chore.

Overall, I hope you’ll find both time and motivation to draw and to have fun with it. Good luck and thank you again!

Have a great day.

#replies #about drawing

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aspd-culture · 1 year

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alright. either all of you need to stop being so god damn relatable, or i need to reevaluate my entire life and see a doctor.

... i do have an (informal) NPD diagnosis, though, so i have no idea where that line is drawn since i know they can have some similarities, i think? so i might as well ask: do you or any followers have any info to share on how to differentiate between NPD and NPD+ASPD?

aspd-culture is

Yep! I can definitely help with that. A major characteristic of ASPD is self-esteem that is affected by very in-the-moment things; for example, if I am playing a video game and doing well, my brain will be pumping me full of good self esteem - "I am so cool and I may not be good at this game usually but if anyone saw me right now they would think I am such a good gamer everyone look at me I am getting a free trial of being a god" - but then, just as fast, if I mess one thing up I will spiral downwards into believing I am so bad at games that I should never touch one again, lest anyone ever have to witness the horror that is my terrible lack of gaming skills. This goes for pretty much anything including weird things like feeling better than everyone because I am forcing my body to stay awake even though it is tired while everyone else is controlled by their flesh vessels. This ego is also affected by other symptoms, so if I am successful at lying or manipulating, I am more likely to have an extremely elevated self esteem in that moment, and the opposite if I get caught doing one of those things.

Meanwhile with NPD, there is a somewhat more stable, episodic self esteem wherein for long periods of time there will be elevated self esteem with episodes of ego crashes. In the case of the two of them, anecdotally I have heard that those ego crashes become very easy to cause by things that would affect self esteem in aspd, and that those crashes are sometimes easier to recover from by exploiting ASPD's symptom based self esteem (not allowing yourself to get bored, being manipulative, successfully lying, etc).

So, if someone just had ASPD their arrogance would be more temporary and less intense (I am doing so well at this game my teammates are so lucky to be playing with me while I am doing this well), while if they had NPD it would be more intense (I am the best at this video game. My teammates are lucky to have met me, and I should invite them to a party - gaming term for a digital group used to make sure you're on the same team during team games for those who don't know - so that they can continue to benefit from me carrying this entire team and maybe if I do they'll tell me how great I am doing) and if they had both, they might think something in-between (I am the best at this game, my teammates should feel lucky that this game requires teams so they get to play with me. Maybe I'll invite them to a party so that I don't risk having a crappy team next game because then I won't want to play anymore and deal with an ego crash, and maybe if I do, they'll point out how my double kill basically won the last round for us).

NPD also often thrives on attention from other people, whilst ASPD comes with a disinterest and sometimes outright disgust or fear at the idea of interaction with people outside of what is necessary for convenience. Both tend to view relationships as transactional to some degree, but pwASPD are generally looking for more tangible and/or practical benefits from people, whilst pwNPD are generally looking for the good feelings they get from attention and praise from others. I don't have much info on how this specific symptom looks in people who have both.

A big one is that whilst pwNPD may disregard others' rights, feelings, opinions, safety, etc in favor of their own, pwASPD are more likely to disregard both others' and our own rights and safety in favor of avoiding boredom and/or gaining something. People with just NPD are unlikely to consistently disregard their own rights or safety whilst doing so is a part of diagnostic criteria for people with ASPD. Someone with both may think they are invulnerable due to their NPD, and because of that put themselves in situations that are dangerous even though that is a risk to themselves because they believe they will be able to charm their way out of the situation should it go poorly, or may disregard their own safety but never disregard their own rights.

PwNPD have a tendency towards jealousy and envy that is not as prevalent in ASPD, whilst pwASPD have a tendency toward impulsivity and irresponsibility that is not as prevalent in NPD.

Both cause a tendency to lie to and manipulate others for their own gain or to avoid their own loss, tend to come with low to no affective empathy (as well as cognitive empathy, sympathy, and compassion in some with the disorder, although many people eith either or both have some or all of these outside of affective empathy), and a fear or mistrust of others' intent. Both can also cause issues forgiving other people and can lead to intense but short-lived serious relationships (for example, getting engaged to or moving in with people quickly over and over, but not actually staying together long enough to get married).

ASPD causes issues managing anger and boredom that can sometimes lead to being seen as aggressive by others, whilst NPD causes issues managing self-esteem while alone that can sometimes lead to issues with dependency on others.

I am not an expert on NPD as I do not have it, so if any of this information is inaccurate for NPD (not that you personally don't experience it, but that I am entirely wrong about something) pwNPD feel free to let me know and I will correct it. Also feel free to add on anything I missed to help anon!

Edit: Correction from replies. Thank you!/gen

#aspd-culture-is #aspd culture is #aspd culture #actually antisocial #actually aspd #antisocial personality disorder #aspd #aspd awareness #aspd traits #npd #cluster b #anons welcome #comorbid conditions #comorbidities

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 1 year

Text

Meeting and Dating Dr. Daniel Schreber

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- Maybe you and Daniel met on the street. Or at your work. Or maybe just a coffee shop near your apartment. Maybe he was a stranger, a friend of a friend, a professional that you sought for one reason another: the list could go on. I could spin a tale at random and regardless of how implausible it may seem, you’ve probably; at one point or another, known it to be true; whether it be in this life or your next.

- But none of them are ever really true; not in the way they should be. Sure, you’ll believe them to be fact; instead of the carefully formulated fiction that they really are, but when push comes to shove, all they are are memories: memories that you yourself never created, memories that were created for you; created by the closest thing to a guardian angel someone in your position will ever have the pleasure of meeting.

- But where your story truly begins, the term “meeting” doesn’t necessarily apply. For two people to meet, they both have to be conscious, and considering the fact that you were nothing of the sort, it wouldn’t be fair to consider it as such.

- Alas, for lack of a better word, you and Daniel first “met” during the tuning: aka, the first time he entered your home and injected you with a new set of memories to base your entire existence around. The first time he laid eyes on you and found himself short of breath.

- In a few days time, you’d be moved into an entirely different home with no hope of remembering the former in the slightest, yet he’ll never forget the sight of you alone in that room; every last detail of it ingrained in his mind like the most important lesson he’s ever learned.

- Beautiful women aren’t scarce in your city and Daniel’s seen plenty of them; the type of women who could have been movie stars had they not wound up in the cage you called home. And yet, out of all of them, you compelled him the most. You were mundane, perhaps even a little flawed, and yet, to him you were perfect: a puzzle of interesting features that created a patchwork of beauty, beauty that few would take the time to notice yet many would learn to love.

- It isn’t often that Daniel allows himself to grow close to someone; his job makes it nearly impossible for him to do so even if he wanted to, yet he finds himself drawn to you against his own better judgement. He finds himself studying you, narrowing down exactly what makes you “uniquely you”; the inherent behaviors and morals and skills that you possess regardless of the situations you’re placed into. And he finds himself falling for those pieces of you just as much as he does your appearance.

- He soon grows protective of you; perhaps even a bit possessive. He finds himself creating memories that are sickly sweet; refusing to involve any tragedy or pain in your past so long as he can help it. If something horrid happens to you: if some accidental flaw in the systems sees to it that you suffer in some way, shape or form, it’s erased by nightfall; never to haunt you again.

- He favors you above everyone else; is constantly looking after you and seeing to it that you’re never harmed: he reasons to the overlords that you’re a control group, that you can show them the natural progression of a normal person living a normal life and they trust his judgement, unaware of his ulterior motives. He tries to convince himself that he’s protecting you because you’re pure, because you’re sweet and kind, and not because of some other selfish reason; but he knows deep down that that isn’t true.

- There’s a reason he can never bring himself to give you a boyfriend, a lover, a husband. Why he can’t bring himself to create memories of your first kisses or first times or whatever else one experiences in their youth. He can ignore the truth all he likes but that doesn’t erase it from history.

- The only person he can ever bring himself to set you up with is himself. He basks in the momentary bliss of your shared life and tries to enjoy the fleeting sensation of knowing you before it’s ripped away from him all too soon; lost to time as the tuning begins again. And yet, this experience is not without guilt and certainly not without risk, so he avoids it as much as possible.

- Instead, he’ll make it so you meet him by chance: enjoying the brief encounters that you share day after day; even if all they amount to is a few seconds of interaction between strangers. Almost always, you’re none the wiser: you might have a feeling that you’ve seen him before, a sense of deja vu that prompts you to pause and look at him for a second longer than normal, but never a life shattering realization; not at first.

- But at some point in time, you do remember him: he either neglects to erase your mind fully or your mind lapses momentarily and you greet him with a brightness in your eyes that he’s never seen before; a flicker of recognition that’s so foreign to your world that he struggles to respond accordingly. He racks his brain for the particular moment you must have remembered him from, and from there, the thoughts begin to surface; the idea that he should have you for himself in the way he’s always dreamed of.

- To him, your memory of him is a sign. If you didn’t hold some level of fondness for him, there’d be no reason for you to remember him and if your memory was going to continue to evade his attempts at changing it, then what was the point of trying to make you forget him. He could monitor you more closely if you knew him and protect you from your leaders; not to mention the fact that he’d be able to experience the relationship he’d always dreamed of.

- There’s very little Daniel can do without arousing the suspicion of your alien overlords and once he finds himself unable to plausibly deny his affections for you, he’ll find himself forced to confront them and ask their permission to keep you as his wife. Lucky for him, despite their constant studies, there’s still much about human life that evades their understanding; making it relatively easy for him to convince them of the importance of human contact and interaction.

- Thus begins his forging of the perfect relationship….

- Daniels imagined the details time and time again; planned everything out from start to finish, so much so that the story itself is ingrained in his mind like an actual memory rather than an elaborate daydream.

- He fine tunes everything to your liking; models everything around what he knows you’ll adore. You meet and fall in love in the way you’ve always dreamed you would: whether it be through one of your beloved hobbies, a particular book/movie plot, a casual encounter, etc. No matter what it is, it’s something you can look back on proudly and fondly and wonder how you got so lucky.

- He tries to restrain himself, reminds himself your memories must portray a version of himself that he can keep up with: that even though he’d like to be your perfect Prince Charming, he still wants to be honest with you and do everything in his power to form as real a connection as possible.

- One thing that Daniel knows for certain is that love cannot be faked; no matter how hard you try. You can convince a person of their physical attachment to someone, but you can’t create a genuine connection from scratch. You can be convinced you’re in a relationship but you can’t be made to feel like you’re in love.

- And that’s his reassurance that he made the right decision. You yearn to be around him the same way he yearns to be around you. You smile at him like you mean it, like there isn’t an ounce of disappointment inside of you, like you genuinely care for him. He can’t spot or remember a singular moment where you’ve acted as though you were merely playing an assigned role: and after years of being responsible for the casting of said roles, he can certainly tell the difference.

- Perhaps it’s because he knows you better than anyone else in the entire world; he can assume that it wouldn’t be difficult to fall in love with someone who acts as though they can read your mind, but even so, he knows that his observations aren’t prejudiced or obstructed by his own personal wants.

- You love him; regardless of his flaws and the reality of who he truly is: you love him as much as you love the person he convinced you he was and you love him as much as you love the things that are ingrained in the very fibers of your being. Against all odds, he found genuine love and very little could convince him otherwise.

- You’ll both remember all your firsts very differently; with you remembering the fabricated firsts and him remembering the real ones, and though he’ll think back on your first date fondly, nothing will compare to the first time the two of you kissed.

- You’d just woken up from your tuning; the first tuning that saw you become his girlfriend, and he’d discarded his briefcase before you began to wake up, watching you as you smiled at him warmly; blinking away the sleep from your eyes as he stood there nervously.

“You’re home.” You’d said happily and he’d smiled somewhat shyly, sighing in relief just quiet enough for you not to hear.

- He’d slowly approached the chair you were sat in and you’d pulled him down gently, pressing your lips to his own as he tried his hardest not to pull away out of sheer surprise. Alas, you’d still managed to sense his hesitation and asked if he was alright, listening to him carefully as he breathed shakily and swallowed softly, telling you that he “just missed you is all”. You’d merely smiled in response, kissing him again as he finally found himself able to return the gesture and kiss you back.

- After that moment, there was no turning back. And though he tries his best to keep your memories as similar as possible, he can’t help but thumb the wedding band in his pocket and contemplate whether he’ll have the nerve to slip it on your finger the next time he’s in charge of tuning your memories.

- For the sake of these headcanons, I’ll ignore the way the two of you met and just make the dating portion as in character as possible. They’ll most likely revolve around the idea that you’re relatively unaware of his occupation so try to keep that in mind as you continue reading.

- Though he knows the Strangers can view the two of you at any given moment, it still gives him a bit more peace of mind to save his affection for behind closed doors. He feels as though he could be putting you in danger by publicly linking himself to you; at least in a way that seems particularly genuine or romantic, so he prefers reserved Pda that looks more polite than intimate; affection that allows him to lie about your relationship to people who are none the wiser.

- Speaking of affection: Daniel is about as touch starved as a person can be. A simple caress or touch from you can make his breath hitch and a lump form in his throat in a matter of seconds. Hold his face in your hands and he’ll lean into your touch, immediately feeling as though everything is somehow alright again. Your gentle affection is like a drug; one that relaxes and grounds him like nothing else.

- Walking with your elbows interlocked or your hand clutching his arm; usually with him clutching his cane in the opposite hand.

- Lingering kisses pressed to your forehead and hairline.

- Daniels kisses always have a certain depth to them; an intimacy that makes kissing him in public a bit inappropriate. There’s a touch of clumsiness; the sort of clumsiness that comes with a lack of practice, and depending on the circumstances, there’s also either an air of desperation or a gentleness to them that you use to help determine his mood.

- Affection in itself is a good way to figure out how he’s feeling. Daniels a fairly secretive person; he doesn’t like involving you in his problems nor admitting to you when somethings the matter, so it’s best to try and learn the differences in his behavior. It gives you a bit more peace of mind and your silent understanding will visibly comfort him; even if he still refuses to speak about it.

- Sitting on his lap or the arm of his chair. It’s usually how you get his attention and start a conversation about something that’s worrying you: he’ll merely wrap an arm around you and insist that everything will be fine, patting your knee reassuringly as you sit in quiet thought.

- He typically just calls you by your full first name but on occasion, he’ll call you darling, dear or dearest as well. Sometimes; if he’s trying really hard to act normal or relate to someone, he’ll refer to you as “the old ball and chain” but it’s fairly obvious that the phrase is more sarcastic/put on than something he genuinely enjoys saying.

- Considering the fact that he typically has a job to do whenever you’re supposed to be asleep, it isn’t often that the two of you have the time to cuddle. But, whenever he does manage to get the chance, you’ll usually find yourself wrapped up in his arms; your head on his chest and his fingers tracing patterns onto your arms and back.

- Showering together. Like he said: water is the one thing that truly deters the strangers, so it’s only natural for him to enjoy the quiet and the peace of mind that comes with it; not to mention the obvious benefits of shared showers.

- Fetching him things; oftentimes without him asking. What are you gonna do, make him hobble across the room for something while you watch with perfectly functioning appendages? Be nice.

- Receiving calls from him when he’s out of the house. It gives him peace of mind to randomly reach out to you and ensure that you’re alright; even when there’s no real reason for him to be worried. On your end, it’ll just seem like he missed you and wanted to hear your voice, and while that is somewhat true, there’s also probably another reason for it as well.

- Visiting him at his lab/workplace. If you’re unaware of his real occupation then it’ll probably look a lot like a therapists office. But if you are aware then you’ll come and fluster him by appearing in his laboratory without warning; especially before the two of you begin dating.

- Speaking of: if you’d like to think that you knew about the Strangers all along, then you probably acted as a sort of partner in crime to him: either working alongside him to teach John or learning how to control the tuning yourself. I do sort of love the idea of Daniel slowly; and somewhat pathetically, falling in love with his coworker and/or his assistant.

- Helping him with his experiments.

- Helping to calm him down; even if you don’t know anything about his current situation. Sometimes, he’ll come home to you in a panic and just fall to his knees in front of you, clutching at you desperately as he tries his best to even out his breathing and avoid crying into your dress. It’ll scare you half to death but you’ll just have to reassure him that he’s alright and that everything’s okay; no matter how wrong you may be.

- Occasional spontaneity. There’s usually a reason behind his sudden decision to stay home from work and spend the day with you or go out for the night, but you’re almost always none the wiser. You’re just happy you get more time with the love of your life.

- Receiving flowers and other little treats and gifts whenever he returns home to you; things he’ll be sure to drop on instinct if he’s ever confronted with something shocking in your apartment.

- Going to the cinema and the theater.

- Dinner dates.

- Spending quiet evenings at home. Usually, you’ll just sit in front of your fireplace and enjoy each other’s company: reading from different books or having different mundane conversations.

- Listening to radio shows and records.

- Moonlit strolls; as if your strolls could ever not be moonlit.

- Him visiting you at your work and asking you about your day; even though he’s bound to know exactly how it plays out even before you open your mouth. He can’t deny how interesting it is to walk into an entirely different building than the one he’d entered the day before and see you acting in the role he’d assigned for you himself.

- Cleaning his glasses on your skirt and placing them back on his face, or taking them off to kiss him. The action makes him melt into a flustered mess.

- Him buttoning your shirts for you, zipping up your dresses, and clasping your necklaces. He likes how intimate the little acts are.

- He definitely keeps a photo of you in his wallet or office; or anywhere else that's safe and capable of being taken out and viewed at any given moment. He likes having a little piece of you with him at all times.

- Sweet affirmations, telling each other how much you love one another, openly admitting how much he’s missed you, etc. Romantic talk is common in your relationship and oftentimes sickly sweet; the sort of thing you’d be embarrassed to be seen doing because of how pathetically lovey dovey it makes the two of you look.

- For obvious reasons, he thrives in any scenario where a doctor is needed: whether it be putting eye drops in your eyes, making you a special tea to settle your stomach, or bandaging your wounds after a minor accident. Just caring, precise work that makes him feel needed and you feel cared for.

- It’s almost guaranteed that you live together; he wouldn’t have it any other way, and you probably adopt a pet together as well: a cat and some fish, or maybe a bird that serves as both a companion to you and an exercise in irony.

- You can insist you’re fine but he’s always one step ahead of you; picking up on your nervous ticks and pointing them out with a subtle flick of his eye. You’ll merely smile a bit bashfully and accept that he knows, admitting to what’s on your mind as he listens to you carefully. Sometimes it’s a pain to have a boyfriend who can psychoanalyze you but at least you never have to tell him how you’re feeling.

- I mentioned it before, but he knows you like the back of his hand: knows your thoughts as you think them and pulls the words right out of your mouth. Have a specific routine? He can write a schedule for you down to the very last minute. Favorite candy? He buys it the day you feel like having some. In a mood? He can tell the second he steps through the door. It’s like he’s found a way to tap into your brain….

- Daniel is always on your side, no matter the situation. He never lets you get deterred and always tries his best to help you figure things out: acting as a careful and comforting teacher whenever times get tough. Blame it on his occupation; he is a doctor after all.

- He likes knowing your every thought; even the arguably mundane things that should be of no real interest to him. Most of the time it’s to monitor what you know and remember, asking you to “humor him” as you chuckle and say “oh it’s nothing” or “it’s just sort of strange” after making like you were going to tell him something. You’ll think it’s just nonsense but his response, the way he goes quiet like he’s deep in thought before smiling and saying something like “that is strange” makes you wonder whether you should pay it more mind yourself.

- He doesn’t talk much about himself but on occasion, he’ll humor you: telling you about his backstory, his day to day life, etc. None of it is true of course, but it’s as true as any story he can spin. No harm in making up a lie when you can’t remember the truth; especially if it makes you happy.

- If he ever finds himself able to, he’d love to tell you how the two of you truly met and how he fell in love with you to an immeasurable degree. He’ll have to play it carefully though; of course, and he’ll have to do it one step at a time; unless he’s undeniably forced to do it in one fell swoop.

- There’s a moment in time where he finally admits to everything; nervous to the point of tears, explaining what’s happened in secret and what he’s done to bring the two of you together before telling you that he understands if you never want to see him again. And though it’ll take you a moment to process exactly what he’s telling you, you’ll ultimately tell him that you’re not leaving him just yet: watching as he blinks away the shine in his eyes and sighs like the weight of the worlds been lifted off his shoulders.

- A part of him feels as though he doesn’t deserve the happiness he’s constructed for himself. He wonders that if you knew the truth; the full truth, if you’d still be capable of loving him. He’s a traitor to his own kind, a coward, he’s ruined countless lives and you know nothing of that side of him nor the depth of his self loathing that you just barely pick up on. What would happen if you found out? Surely nothing good; though he could certainly hope….

- Daniels a fairly jealous person: mainly because of his fear that you’ll find someone you have a genuine connection with; a love that naturally exceeds the one he’s tried so hard to garner for himself. Most of the time, he’ll merely approach the two of you and passive aggressive say “oh, I see you’ve met my wife” or “if you’ll excuse us, we must be going” before dragging you off and away. By “morning”, you won’t remember them at all and they’ll be moved all the way across town.

- He’s protective in the way a father tends to be and it’s usually for good reason: telling you not to “talk to Strangers”, to call him when you get home, to not go out “tonight”, etc. They’re silly little things that you don’t think twice about so when he tells you to “humor him” it isn’t often that you refuse. Unfortunately for him, he’s never quite sure if it’s safer for him to stay close by or far away.

- Fighting is fairly rare between the two of you: your shared apartment is a refuge for him and he works hard to keep your lives stress free. But on occasion, you just won’t be able to stop an argument from happening; especially when you’re suddenly hyper aware of the fact that he’s lying to or keeping something from you.

- He’s always tempted to erase the fight from your memory but it isn’t often that he goes through with it; he only does so when knowing the truth will put you in danger. Typically, he just apologizes very earnestly and seriously and tries his best to come up with an explanation that’ll both keep you safe and placate you.

- He’s very open about how much he loves you: telling you that he does nearly everyday; amongst other things that would equate to it. He also loves hearing you say it back, and grows so used to you doing so that he’d probably question you if you didn’t; wanting to know if everything was alright.

- Marriage is a definite, but I also think he’d want to have his own little family with you as well. He’d dream about being a father but he’d never find the nerve to bring it up to you; feeling as though it isn’t fair to ask you about it before he’s able to be completely truthful with you.

#daniel schreber imagine #dr daniel schreber imagine #daniel schreber headcanons #daniel schreber imagines #daniel schreber headcanon #dark city imagine #dark city headcanons #dark city imagines #dark city headcanon #90s movie imagine #90s movie imagines #90s movie headcanons #90s movie headcanon

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shera-dnd · 9 months

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I LIVE!

Thanks to the help of the wonderful @saint-lily I'm back in business!

And I'm returning in style with my first Madoka fic

Honestly I can't believe it took me this long to write something for this fandom. Like I've been into Madoka since I was 14... jfc that was so long ago

anyways watch as Hitomi fumbles her way into a lesbian awakening and in the process discover the magical world of vampires, angels, demons, and so much more

Things have gotten strange since Hitomi started college.

It was all normal at first. Just her and her best friends, Madoka and Sayaka, enjoying their new life at campus. But then things started to change.

Sayaka began to act more possessive and protective of Madoka, in a way she hadn’t since the girl had been bullied in middle school. Hitomi worried that someone was trying to hurt her.

That’s when she saw who exactly Sayaka was protecting their friend from.

Three strange girls who followed Madoka wherever she went.

The first of the three had long dark hair, and impossibly pale skin. She seemed to avoid sunlight whenever possible, and had an unsettling smile that made it feel like she always knew more than she was letting on.

The second girl was tall, blonde and… well, busty for the lack of a better descriptor. Though she dressed in bright and cheerful colors, and carried a welcoming smile, there was still something unsettling about her. Maybe it was the way that beneath that smile, she always seemed so gloomy and low energy, or maybe it was the fact that she always kept her neck covered.

Then there was the last girl. Loud, brash, and always reeking of smoke. Her hair was long and dyed a bright red, with her sides shaved. She was always either eating, drinking, or partaking in some sort of vice. Hitomi was certain this girl would die of a heart attack at any moment; but no matter how many excesses she indulged in, she always stayed as skinny and healthy as ever.

Each girl alone would have been a little weird but no reason for alarm, but all three of them for some reason seeming to obsess over Madoka at once? There had to be something going on there.

Hitomi had shared her worries with Sayaka - she had shown a similar worry after all - but was quickly dismissed.

“Let me handle this,” Sayaka had said, “you should stay away from those girls.”

Now, Hitomi had always prided herself in being a sensible and responsible young lady. She followed the rules and avoided trouble as much as possible. But how could she just sit around and do nothing while her childhood friend was being harassed by these strange women?

The worst part still was just how friendly Madoka was to all of them; how she was spending all of her free time with them instead of with Hitomi. This, of course, had nothing to do with why Hitomi suspected them, no, it was just proof that Madoka was too sweet and innocent, and couldn’t tell that those girls had ulterior motives.

That was it. Hitomi had to interfere. She couldn’t just leave Madoka alone, no matter what Sayaka said.

And that’s how she found herself stalking that pale girl across campus one night.

Homura was her name, from what Madoka had told her, and she lived in an apartment just outside of campus. How some random goth girl could afford something like that was beyond Hitomi’s deductive skills, but it definitely didn’t make her any less shady.

As she followed after her, Hitomi found her attention more and more drawn to the woman herself. There was an unsettling ethereal beauty to Homura. Her every movement was both graceful and measured, with not a single motion or breath wasted. Her long, flowing, dark hair practically glowed in the moonlight as it flowed down her back like a pitch black waterfall.

And her smell.

Oh, Homura smelled like lilies!

Wait! When did she get close enough to smell her?

Hitomi stumbled backwards and shook her head. She was in a dark alley now, just her and Homura. At some point, in her trance, she had stopped stalking Homura and had begun to follow behind her instead.

Her abrupt motion must have warned her of her presence, because Homura giggled and turned around.

The way her hair whipped in the air, glittering white light reflected off black strands, it was almost enough to distract Hitomi once again. But, as mesmerizing purple eyes met hers, she knew she had to steel herself and focus.

“You know,” Homura commented as casually as one would bring up the weather, “it’s impolite to follow people like that.”

“You…” Hitomi tried to speak, but the way Homura’s eyes studied her made her falter.

“What is it, little mouse?” she teased, stepping closer to Hitomi.

“Y-You…” she tried again, but that only got Homura to step even closer, now looming over her.

She smiled the toothy smile of a predator ready to pounce on its prey. All at once, Hitomi’s suspicions were confirmed.

“You’re preying on Madoka!” She accused, shoving Homura away.

Homura only chuckled. “Oh, is that why you’re here? You’ve come to save poor Madoka?”

“She’s my friend!” Hitomi shouted, trying to seem more confident than she felt, “it’s my job to protect her!”

“You sound a lot like that little blue angel,” Homura mocked. Blue angel? Did she mean Sayaka? “So, I’ll tell you what I told her. I care about Madoka, and she doesn’t need anyone else’s protection.”

“No! I don’t believe you!” Hitomi challenged, even as she stepped away from Homura, “I know what you are!”

It was like something shifted inside Homura. Her expression hadn’t changed at all, and yet it felt like the amusement in her eyes had been replaced with unadulterated malice.

“Is that so?” Homura closed the distance between them in a single lunge, backing Hitomi against a wall.

Hitomi squeaked and screwed her eyes shut.

“Say it!” Homura commanded.

“Y-You are…”

Steel yourself. You have to do this, Hitomi, for Madoka. She braced against the wall behind her, opened her eyes, and shouted as loud as she could.

“A lesbian!”

Homura froze in place at the accusation, something Hitomi would have taken as a victory were it not for the position she was currently in.

Homura was hunched close to Hitomi, mouth barely an inch away from her neck. Her white teeth shone in the night, with two in particular, long and sharp like needles, threatening to pierce her skin.

Oh no.

Homura hissed and stepped away, her fangs shrinking back into her mouth. “Really!?”

“You’re a vampire!?” Hitomi yelled.

“You’re a homophobe!” Homura yelled back.

That caught her off guard. “N-No, I’m not.”

“You thought I was preying on Madoka just because I’m into women,” Homura accused.

“B-But you are,” Hitomi tried to argue, “you’re just entrancing her with your vampire powers!”

That's it! That’s why Hitomi couldn’t take her eyes away from her, why her mere presence seemed to entrance her, why she felt so disappointed that Homura hadn’t sunk her teeth into her neck and made her scream.

“Is that what you think I do?” Homura asked with a twinge of disgust, but before Hitomi could answer she turned away. “Your repression has ruined my appetite. Goodbye, little mouse .”

And just like that, she walked away into the night, leaving Hitomi frozen behind her.

What had just happened?

Was Homura… hurt?

Why did she feel guilty?

How was she the villain now?

And why the heck did she still want Homura to bite her!?

#puella magi madoka magica #hitomi shizuki #homura akemi #what is their ship called?#hitomura #homutomi #whichever one it is #fanfic #urban fantasy #vampire homura akemi

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bemtevis · 1 year

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Yessss to everything you said!! Like it was the best book in the series, but I feel like maybe the focus on a certain kind of romance and the abundance of characters really led everything else to be sort of brushed aside or easily sorted out??

Struggling to put it into words but I think it boils down to cc having these cool concepts but just not delivering. One of the reasons the way Elias' death happened in choi was so pointless was because we didn't get to see Cordelia interact much with her father beforehand, it was just an oh no! he's dead! moment for her to feel sad about and cause conflict with James, when it could have really made Cordelia grapple with realisation that her father was not who she thought he was, and had her deal with that face to face. While handled a little better, the lack of mourning for Christopher really just exposes how his death was just there for the sake of it, and there was so much more that could have been explored, and emotions that could have been drawn out if she'd focused on the grief for him??

Other than mentioning that he has experience looking after drunk people because of his dad, and the little bit about not wanting to run away like his father, Alastair as far as I remember didn't really speak about his trauma and seems great by the end and,,, happy for him!! but would have liked to see his traumas talked about a little more and taken a little more seriously by the narrative tbh. Idk, as I write this I'm like maybe I'm being super picky with this one but I guess I will always want more Alastair content lol

Thomas' character is also just a giant example of cc underutilising what she's created, like you've presented this character and set up for him to be a little resentful of the one-dimensional way he's viewed as the kind one. That's so interesting!! Lean further into that and show that that's why he appreciates how Alastair used to speak his mind and stand up for himself at the academy, and use it to inform their relationship and Thomas' own personal growth! She tells us he's grown into himself more at the end but she doesn't fully explore it or show it. Would have liked to have seen more recognition of his talents with language as well but she literally seemed to gift his farsi skills to James lol

Also making everything about Charles' sexuality and having to come out felt really weird, as him wanting to stay in the closet is honestly the only thing I have sympathy for. And Ari and Charles being mentioned to be friends, we were robbed

And also can't believe no mentions of Thomas' tattoo throughout like it just seems a little weird considering there is some build up there of its emotional significance and link to Alastair?? Anyways chot was a good experience but there are just so many things cc seems to have forgot about, sorry for the rambles lol I really should just make my own post

I come across as so negative here lmao I genuinely really enjoyed the book

Managing that many characters, plus their individual relationships, is extremely difficult to pull of, and it's clear that CHOT fell short on many aspects. An easy way to fix the aftermath of Kit's death was just not to kill him! It was so unnecessary! Or at least spare us a few more paragraphs to grieve him properly, ffs.

On paper, I can see why his death (and Elias', as you said) would be impactful. But you can't just have something that big happen without building up to it and giving it a proper conclusion, which neither of them had! With the CHOI deaths specifically, it seemed obvious to be that CC wanted to kill some beloved characters but not any of the main ones. That's why she hit us in the head with the 'Italian Shadowhunter' thing; so we'd create a connection to her, but it didn't work! We barely knew Filomena, and Elias, and that lady who was nice to Thomas! It just doesn't work, and it was such a waste.

No, I totally agree! I don't remember any specific quotes, but it felt like every time Alastair mentioned his past, no one even acknowledged it. I don't expect a whole section where he goes to therapy or anything, but it'd would've been nice to hear Thomas say "you didn't deserve any of that, you're so strong but you shouldn't have had to be, you can rest now" instead of a thousandth Thomastair make out scene.

Thomas was so underutilized! Once again, I understand the whole book couldn't have been focused on him, but Matthew's reaction to him being in love with Alastair felt like such a cop out tbh. And an easy way to solve it would've been not to have Matthew be so bad to Alastair in the first place! He can still deflect his own guilt and hatred onto him, I know that's a part of his character (that was also brushed off), but maybe not treat him like the Devil himself. Thomas' annoyance with being 'the kind one' was completely forgotten, when it could've been one of the best arcs in the series.

Absolutely, yes! It's like CC forgot what her own character was like. Harassing and cornering Alastair? Disrespecting his boundaries? The fucking age gap? Charles' choice to stay closeted was the only thing I respected about him, and yet Clare's vendetta against closeted people continues. It's a pattern and it's not a great one.

And Thomas' tattoo, yeah! CC gave Thomastair way too many things (the tattoo, songwriting, Paris, farsi speaking, Alastair's hair, the list goes on) then realized she couldn't possibly fit it all in one book so she just abandoned most of it. Also, I really wish Thomas would've given Alastair one compliment throughout the book. His inner voice tells him to shut up when he's being cheesy, but I wish he would've let something slip and Alastair would've been glad because cheesy is exactly what he needs, okay! Someone read poetry to that boy!

KJfjskdfjsd I get you, I bitch a lot but it was legitimately the best book in the trilogy. Thank you for the ask!

#chot spoilers #chain of thorns spoilers #chain of thorns #chot #the last hours #tlh #thomastair #tlh critical #tw death

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dereineschwarzerabe · 1 year

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Calyrex Found Footage!

A while ago i started looking at and drawing Pokemon's differently, they are essentially all monsters drawn in a cute simple artstyle, i prefer drawing things in my way so usually, i think about what similarities it shares with an animal or simply read the information available on the design, such as what the design is based on, it's a helpful guide for me to figure out how i draw them. Here we have Calyrex, one of the new Legendary that was announced to be part of a DLC, when i saw it was instantly captivated by the truly mystic aura when i watched the stream, it looked weird, i had no idea where if it was upside down, i was feeling like i looked at something that you should not encounter, it's the first time a Pokemon made me feel that way when i saw it. After seeing the official artwork i understood what was happening with this weird little thing and saw lots of people making fun of it or "fixed it", it's understandable, it does look ridiculous, but the fact something so ridiculous looking made me feel a sense of fear, made me fall in love with this. Anyways, let's talk about why it looks like that in my drawing. A lot of people say it's a Rabbit, Hare or well. a Jackalope, while i can see that in the face, it's not the impression i have, to me it is a Deer, so far i haven't seen any official information on what Calyrex is really based on, but regardless canon or not, i do respect other's view and interpretation. I started looking for references, i already had an idea how i will make it, finding ref's for a Deer was easy, finding legs was not so pleasant and then the question was, what is that thing on it's head and neck, I concluded because it is a plant Pokemon, it is supposed to be a bud. Once i had all the references, the process was pretty straightforward and i had the lines finished after a week. While working on it, i kept stopping and looking at it, it gave me a slightly unnerving feeling, i realized it looked unnerving, i was happy, that's the vibe i want to capture with it, i wanted to recreate the feeling it gave me when i first saw it and maybe make others feel the same. After Calyrex was done, the question was, what kind of Background? I knew it had to be a snowy forest, based on the new Area that will be added with it in it, but the thing for me was, i never really do backgrounds, most i do is furniture but i had no experience and i was unsure if making such a background would work with my lines. Then i made a decision, i will paint it, have i done such thing before? No. I looked for a snowy Forrest that would help me give some ideas what it should look like, once i had it, i started putting grey and white all over the place and made some brown lines and then kept adding stuff until it looked like a snowy Forrest. It was oddly relaxing and fun and there is really a lot of room to play with it. It is not perfect no, but it was my first attempt, i had no real painting practice before that but it did not stop me. It is easy to say "but i can't paint/animate/draw/ect." if you haven't done something before or are not skilled at it, but the majority of people who say that, can. Most simply lack the confidence to commit to something new or big, it is a reasonable fear but no skill is gifted, everyone starts somewhere, sometimes you just have to jump into it, often there is nothing to lose, you only will keep learning and learn how to do it better next time and so on, Life isn't eternal so try your best as long you can. Then after i finished it i added a filter on it to give it a night vision effect to add the cryptic vibe and there we have it.

#pokemon #Calyrex

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whiskeyworen · 1 year

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Happy New Years, everyone!

Welcome to 2023. The year we’re supposed to be wearing Fifth Element type clothing from Zardoz, or Legion of Doom BDSM gear from Mad Max. I suppose I should make some kind of resolution, or a list of goals to achieve for the coming year. Okay... let’s see. 1: Write more stories. I’ve been kinda lax lately, busy at work, mired in depression and lack of inspiration. So I need to do something to get my muse whispering in my ear again. I need to write...even if no one reads it. 2: New PFP. I need a new PFP. The one I’m currently using was one I commissioned from someone I’d considered a friend, but that friendship hasn’t existed for about two years or so. I’m kind of tired of seeing it, and since I have no artistic talent, that means I will need to commission an artist. Honestly the concept scares me, because of the artists I’ve dealt with in the past. As much as I admire and adore artists, telling them what I want to see makes me feel incredibly awkward. And I’m incredibly intimidated by artists that have actual queues of people commissioning. I feel like the window to get IN on that is so short. LoL. But I need a new PFP. So... I’ll have to start looking. 3. Character art Partially in line with getting a new PFP -- I’d love to get some of my characters drawn up by someone or someones. I don’t know what kind of art I’d want but I’d be pretty much open to anything, so long as it made me happy. Again, the whole commissioning process and queues scare the crap outta me. LoL. 4. New PC Been needing this for a good while, and I’ve held off for a long time because of PRICES... but I want to get a new PC soon. It doesn’t have to be absolute cutting edge, but I want it to be much better than what I currently have... and with 900% more capacity. Or more. I wanna be able to play my games at full power, full detail, and to have them installed without taking up massive chunks of my storage (or chunks that are negligible against a massive, massive capacity). I don’t want to have to sacrifice one game to install another. 5. Social I’m... not good with people. I’m an introvert with permanent serious face. As time goes on, I look around and see people around me meeting others, and I just... it’s not something in my book of skills. It’d be nice to meet someone. But I doubt it’ll happen. This is wishful thinking on my part.

6. Improve my life While there is nothing wrong, per say, in my life... it doesn’t feel right to me. I’ve been in a rut for about eight years. Everything has become stagnant for me. SSDD. I need to change it...somehow. That’s about all I can think up. Those are my ‘resolutions’. Sorta. Kinda.

#Happy New Years #2023 #2023 resolutions #personal goals

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cathygeha · 3 months

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REVIEW

Please Tell Me by Mike Omer

Not my favorite by this author but a solid story. The synopsis sounded intriguing with the therapist there to help a child that escaped her kidnapper and a serial killer on the loose. The first chapter drew me in and set the stage but as the characters appeared I started to wonder if I would finish the book as it went from one dysfunctional couple/family to the next.

What I liked:

* The idea of having a child therapist using play therapy as a main character and her part in the story – I was expecting someone with more experience, maturity, and less personal issues though

* Kathy’s resilience, ability to escape, and her coping skills after the trauma she experienced

* The setting of a small town with the tensions, gossip, and everyone knowing one another

* The relationship between Robin, the therapist, and her sister Melody

* Melody’s healthy relationship with her husband and children – they seemed normal

* Jimmie who owned the diner and seemed a central place in town – seemed like a solid person

* The way the play therapy gave clues to finding a serial killer – though it took a bit to believe it would unfold as it did

* That the evil doers were eventually found and dealt with

What I had trouble with:

* Robin’s dysfunctional family – her mother was a piece of work that Melody seemed to “see” and handle much better than Robin did

* The romance that suddenly happened – felt like there should have been more to draw the couple together and time for them to be drawn to one another

* That there wasn’t enough backstory to validate why the evil was done by the characters doing it

* Understanding how Robin’s ex, Clair’s husband, and Robin’s father could be so clueless and lacking in empathy

* The believability factor that was missing for me

Did I enjoy this book? Not as much as I had hoped I would

Would I read more by this author? Yes, if the synopsis appealed, I would give it a try

Thank you to NetGalley and Thomas & Mercer for the ARC – This is my honest review.

2-3 Stars

BLURB

After a year in captivity, a kidnapped child escapes—only to reveal horrific truths that lead her psychologist on a race against time in this thriller from New York Times bestselling author Mike Omer.

When eight-year-old Kathy Stone turns up on the side of the road a year after her abduction, the world awaits her harrowing story. But Kathy doesn’t say a word. Traumatized by her ordeal, she doesn’t speak at all, not even to her own parents.

Child therapist Robin Hart is the only one who’s had success connecting with the girl. Robin has been using play therapy to help Kathy process her memories. But as their work continues, Kathy’s playtime takes a grim turn: a doll stabs another doll, a tiny figurine is chained to a plastic toy couch. All of these horrifying moments, enacted within a Victorian doll house. Every session, another toy dies.

But the most disturbing detail? Kathy seems to be playacting real unsolved murders.

Soon Robin wonders if Kathy not only holds the key to the murders of the past but if she knows something about the murders of the future. Can Robin unlock the secrets in Kathy’s brain and stop a serial killer before he strikes again? Or is Robin’s work with Kathy putting her in the killer’s sights?

#Mike Omer #Thomas & Mercer #NetGalley #Murder #Kidnapping #Serial Killer #Miscarriage #Dysfunctional Families #Small Town Fiction #Child Therapist - play therapy #trauma #anxiety #insomnia #abuse #fictiton

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missroki · 4 months

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i’m sorry if this has been asked before, but do you have any tips on how to make your graphics or theme so pleasing? all your stuff is so so cute! 😖

hello! first of all, thank you, anon! you’re very sweet, i appreciate the kind words. in terms of tips/tricks, I have a few that i think everyone can benefit from:

first of all, please try your best to understand composition. knowing how to find balance in your graphics is key because you don’t want to overwhelm your readers or yourself. if something feels like it’s too much, take it away. or, take a step back and then look at it again. sometimes when we look at the same thing for a long time our perception gets all weird.

before you post, make sure to check the difference in colors on pc versus mobile. colors may look very similar on your computer and vastly different on a different device.

use pretty fonts !! if you use a font that’s not very attractive (comic sans) it can throw the entire graphic off because there’s this awkward eyesore. use pretty fonts! X2 i typically avoid anything that looks hand drawn unless it is really necessary for the aesthetic.

canva is your friend. i cannot stress this enough. plenty of people use photoshop daily (myself included) but it is a skill that needs to be honed and i’ve been using it for 10+ years. as someone with this knowledge, everything on my page? i made in canva. it’s so convenient that not using it would make no sense for me. i don’t have to constantly search for images and make gifs from scratch. if i, for example want sparkles, canva has an animated sparkle sticker that i can just add in an instant. play around with canva, i promise you it is way more than just a template site if you know how to use it. i highly recommend getting canva pro if you plan on using it as much as i do, but that’s not necessary for most people.

if it doesn’t bring you joy, scrap it. at the end of the day this is just tumblr and if making a specific graphic stresses you out or you just don’t like it… throw it out. start over. go do something else and come back to it.

here’s a short one but: make a side blog just for theme testing!

my final tip is more personal preference; banners for fics should be smaller than banners for events or series. it shows an obvious difference in the “importance” for a lack of a better words, of each thing. like yeah this is a fic but this? oh baby, this is an event!

i have so many more tips i could give, but that’s typically when i’m talking to someone directly because they aren’t sure how to proceed or how to get started on a graphic idea they have. if you ever want help on something specific (how to make a livestream graphic, a web core graphic, etc.) then feel free to reach out for more specific guidance. for now, though, i appreciate your question! hopefully this was beneficial to you. happy graphic making. sorin.

#‧₊˚ 🍓 ۫ ⭒ — the sorin show.#‧₊˚ 🍳 ۫ ⭒ — cook book.#‧₊˚ 🥞 ۫ ⭒ — unknown recipe.#tutorials

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caravans-jgls · 1 year

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“English Gypsy Caravan Decoration”, 1938

BY EDWARD HARVEY

AS a youngster I had an ambition to become a painter of Inn Signs and visioned a footloose life of joyous freedom wandering wheresoever I willed trading my craft for bread and board . I promised myself , I remember , an endless sequence of gargantuan meals of bread and cheese and ale which in the fitness of things were to be eaten outside the inn , whilst the local inhabitants admired my work and commented upon my paint bedaubed and eminently craftsmanlike person .Alas , maturity bringing a realization of ways and means threw a spanner into the works , and I discovered that this enchanting career was obsolete by a few odd decades . So , reluct antly I cast it away from me , but there was a wander - itch that would not be stilled , and it became inflamed beyond endurance by the chance remark of a Gypsy hawker at my mother's kitchen door . ' Us is better off than they rich ' uns , ' she said ; ' us can allus do as we've a mind to . ' Verb sap . And so in my wisdom or folly I revived my quondam ambition , breathed new life into it , twisted and tortured it to meet my whimsy , and wrought it into a point of contact with those whom I envied so much , the Romanies . Said I : ' If I can't paint pubs I'll paint caravans , ' and I decided that gay and riotous colour should be the gry that would carry me , & welcome guest , into the tans of Egypt .And as I planned it , so it was .I made careful sketches of caravan decoration and set out in search of unpainted wagons . Every bare vardo was a virgin field in prospect , wherein I might disport my frantic brush and unleash my cavalcade of paint pots . Whenever I found one I would coax and cozen like a veritable rokermengro until I secured permission to adorn it with some of my designs . I carried about twenty sixpenny tins of quick - drying varnish paint of various colours , a roll of specimen sketches and sundry oddments in a.rucksack .As a rule I received no payment for my work other than a share of the communal meals , and the Gypsies regarded me as a gentle Gorgio mug who had no more sense than to work for nothing . I was very proud on the day that ' Gypsy Tom ' Bibby of Tetley introduced me to his pals as ' that there dinnelo vardo mescro as I told you about . ' I knew quite well what a vardo mescro was , but dinnelo was a new word for me at that time . Tom was perfectly convinced that I wasn't ' all here , ' but it didn't worry me in the least . I took all as part of the game and eventually lived it down .I took myself rather seriously on this self - imposed work and became something of a purist in Gypsy design , insomuch that I never invented designs but limited myself to copying from other vardos . The only licence which I permitted myself was to adapt a pattern , such as elongating a square motif to fit into an oblong panel or combining a border pattern with a central ornament to make a composite arrangement .My greatest pleasure was on the rare occasions when I found a Gypsy craftsman actually engaged in painting or carving with out a copy , because I could then be reasonably sure that the work was really ' folk craft . '.In making this selection for the Journal I have used only those designs which I know to be of Romany origin , and in doing so have let loose a Pandora's box of hedgerow memories . Each has some particular point of interest or tale hung thereon .

PLATE I.THE FASCIA FRET or Barge Board was on a wagon at Oswestry Horse Fair in 1920. It was cut in inch - thick oak , but the point that aroused my interest was that the van had been built in the rough and taken on the road in an unfinished state . The owner , Darling White , worked on the ornamentation at odd moments between fairs , and when I met him had just cut one side of the fret with a keyhole saw , a laborious and slow procedure . He had drawn half the pattern freehand before cutting , but lacked the skill to make an exact copy for the remaining half . In his own words : ' Thissen ends wafody . All " skew wift . " It's too " femmer " 1 and won't make itself right . ' I volunteered assist ance , scrounged some blue sugar paper from a nearby grocer , which I stuck together to make a big sheet , using condensed milk in lieu of a proper adhesive , and made a template from which we scribed a duplicate of the completed portion . White was profuse in his thanks , but his parting words were a problem I have never solved . He told me : ' You done me a good turn an ' I shanna forget . When I go down Bedford come the turn o ' the year I wunna go on the drom . I'll have wagor put on a truck an ' tooken by railway thissentime . That'll do ye a bit o ' good . ' BEARER RAIL . I came across this on the back of Ambrose Mill's vardo at Breamore in the New Forest and it shone like a jewel in contrast to the rest of the vehicle which was smeared with a fruity mud colour like decayed treacle . About a dozen partly used tins of different coloured paint had been mixed together , covering power being more desired than beauty , and I (Continue in page 41, Journal of the Gypsy Lore Society, issue of 1938).

#text

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dyleeart · 2 years

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Everyone get out of the way I’m taking these kids to therapy

#i should have drawn something better but my time and skills are lacking #art #my art #digital art #the owl house #the owl house spoilers #toh #the owl house fanart #luz noceda #toh hunter #philip wittebane #hollow mind #wittebro #wittebane brothers

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merakiui · 3 years

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A Leaf Swept up in an Autumnal Breeze

yandere!kaedehara kazuha x (gender neutral) reader art credit - Tourou_7 on twt cw: yandere, unhealthy/obsessive behaviors, slight nsfw implications/thoughts, alcohol consumption, intoxication, spoilers for kazuha’s character story + inazuma lore note - i decided to write something short for kazuha as i analyze what we know so far of his character. hopefully the characterization isn’t too off! please enjoy nonetheless! orz

The moonlight casts its thin rays upon the calm, motionless sea. In the distance, fish surface and their movements are captured in the ripples that expand in the water, a minor blip in the otherwise tranquil atmosphere of the dark night. As if a god has taken a brush to the sky, utilizing its inky vastness as a canvas, the stars have been drawn in small specks—winking down at those who sleep underneath a blanket of natural light.

And you are caught up in the glorious shimmer, grinning widely as Beidou wraps her arm around you, pulling you against her as if the two of you have known each other for years. In reality, it’s only been a few months since you were discovered on her ship: a hidden stowaway with your Vision clutched in your hands and raw resolve etched into your body in the form of bruises and old scars. You’re a fighter and yet you also ran from something. Kazuha can’t quite tell what it is you’ve escaped. Whether it’s another person, a group of people, or even an entire nation, he’s certain it’s worthy of the risks that come with fleeing.

Your Vision shines brightly, a stark contrast to the dark color scheme of your clothes. He tries to place a nation to your outfit and comes up empty, his thoughts returning to Inazuma as though it’s the only place he can think of. And he supposes that’s true. The situation in Inazuma has clouded his mind with its strange fog, taking up residence in the nooks and crannies of his brain. Though he can dwell upon the past and the mistakes that led up to the downfall of a precious friend, he knows there is no use for such somber reflections during a happy celebration. Life moves on, as the common saying goes, and he cannot allow himself to remain trapped in the past.

During moments such as these, where he relives the horrible memory in vivid detail, you are a sweet balm that soothes the sting of loss. Even when you’re struggling to stand, face hot from the intoxication of good drinks in even better company, you’re a wondrous presence who chases away his doubts and worries.

Unknowingly, you cast a temporary shroud over those matters and he’s put at ease the minute you extend your arm in his direction.

“Kazuha! Come over here. Let’s dance!”

A hiccup interrupts your jovial giggle and Beidou chuckles before throwing her head back to drink what’s left in her flask. The aura of her ship is beyond lively. Men and women alike celebrate another successful week with drinks, harrowing tales of past heroes, and broken ballads sang in drunken tones. He can’t help the smile that sprouts on his lips. You’re such an outgoing person, always wanting to include him in your daily activities. And though he politely declines whenever you offer him alcohol, he has wondered what the appeal could possibly be.

Perhaps it’s the idea of losing your sensibility for one night, ignoring all reason for the sake of spending pleasurable moments in the confines of a warm bed, wrapped snugly in a lover’s embrace. Such instances are lost to intoxicating pleasure—buried under a hazy recollection come morning. But you haven’t done that sort of thing. Kazuha would know. He listens in while you’re relaxing—while you’re bathing and going about life on the ship without a care in the world—and his head runs wild with all sorts of fantasies. Fantasies he never would have imagined had he not met you.

To think you were just a mere stowaway, a trespasser who had snuck onto the ship and hid in the darkest corner, obscured by crates and chests. And he had pulled those crates aside in search of a few ingredients and his eyes met yours and you held your finger to your lips—a silent urge to keep quiet—and his heart skipped a beat.

It was a special meeting between two, which will remain locked away in his heart for all of eternity. A memory he regards with warm fondness. After much negotiation and a disarming conversation, you were soon welcomed with open arms as Beidou practically offered you to join her crew. You had nowhere else to go—no one else to see or protect—and so you agreed. And Kazuha felt a relief he hasn’t felt in a while, the sort of emotion that stems from almost losing something important.

The pure relief that comes and goes once he realizes you’re a missing piece in the puzzle of his life.

“You’ll trip,” he warns, pushing off from the side of the ship and walking over to you and Beidou. “It wouldn’t be wise to dance in your inebriated state. Surely you’re aware of this, no?”

“I can hold my alcohol.” Your wavering glare doesn’t reach him. “Don’t... Don’t think otherwise or else I’ll—ah!”

The majority of Beidou’s weight burdens your shoulders and you nearly almost crumble.

“You—“ she searches for a means to steady herself— “worry too much,” the captain adds, nodding in agreement to an unspoken statement. “It’ll be okay! Live a little while you’re still young.”

Kazuha sighs and easily slips between the two of you, hooking his arm around Beidou’s waist as he guides her to a barrel. The scent of alcohol kisses the air, clinging to your clothes and breath like an oversaturated perfume. Once she’s sat down, now fully determined to get the last few drops from out of the flask, the rōnin turns to you. He’s caught by surprise when your hands grasp his, your eager expression stabbing his heart with a dozen pins. He’s rooted to the floorboards, unable to look away when your face is dangerously close to his.

“You heard the captain,” you tease in a slurred voice. “Live a little.”

And he does. Or he thinks he does. Having traveled with Beidou, this is the current life he’s come to know and appreciate. But is it truly living if he feels unfulfilled in the process? To find a means for bringing back the familiar glow in a lonely Vision. To secure peace of mind and put his rowdy thoughts to rest. To one day return to the nation he was forced to flee, with you in tow. Are all of these things necessary in order to fill the gaping void in his damaged heart? Kazuha wonders if you also came from Inazuma. Perhaps you wouldn’t be so surprised to see the scenery if he were to take you there. Not now, of course. Sometime in the future, if such a future holds a changed Inazuma.

“I’m going to warn you now,” he mumbles, his fingers ghosting over your waist, “I’m not what one would call a dancer of skillful grace.”

“I don’t think that’s true, dear Kazuha.”

He blinks once and then releases a short laugh at the endearing term. “If you say so.”

“Enough talk.” You huff and pull him into your chest and he feels as though he could stay locked in this position for millennia. “Dance with me before...” A stilted pause as you nearly forget your sentence. “Before I turn in for the night. That’s it.”

Or before you get sick, he thinks, not so cheerful about the inevitable mess. But he’ll tolerate it because you’ve tolerated him. You never pry into his past, nor do you force him to answer personal questions regarding Inazuma and the Raiden Shogun. If you ever notice the way he lingers near your quarters, you don’t say a word. And if you hear his subdued moans as his hand moves in time with a picturesque fantasy of your nude form pressed against his, you keep your mouth shut. You are everything he could ever want and like the very ideal the Raiden Shogun wishes to uphold he wants to pursue an eternity with you.

Your movements are far from the precision you normally have when moving about the ship and it’s a very odd dance. Yet you spin him and he follows your unusual lead like an animal with tunnel vision. For a taut moment, the background noise melts away into obscurity and the two of you are the only people in existence. He stares at your face the entire time, ignoring the way your sandals crush his feet or the instances where he unintentionally returns the gesture. It’s certainly an awkward sort of waltz, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

And in this moment where no one else matters, he sees your radiance in the glow of the moon. You truly are worthy of the sun and the stars beyond and should you verbalize an outlandish wish of that nature he has no choice but to follow through.

Like a leaf swept up in an autumnal breeze, reminiscent of a ronin who lacks a place in the world, Kazuha allows himself to be carried on by the winds that rustle the sails and tangle through your hair, painting you in a backdrop that’s heaven handcrafted by the pickiest god. And where you have your wits, a lively Vision, and your confidence, he only has his blade, a dull Vision, and an inkling of hope. But that’s really all he requires.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere kazuha x reader #yandere kazuha #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere kaedehara kazuha #yandere kaedehara kazuha x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact kazuha #genshin impact kaedehara kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha

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