#(Except my beloved Orb)

[arabella-strange]

This whole "world leaders' summit in Vasselheim (redux)" is just making me remember the LIVE SHOW of Campaign 1, ep. 109 -- and when the gathering of the heroes (in front of the same Platinum Dragon Council!!!) included the teleporting-in of one Arcanist Allura Vysoren and the CHEERS that ripped through Gen Con when she appeared [1:29:56+]

and then the OUTRIGHT SHOUTS when Allura cut through the BBEG monologue of threatening the families of every major PC and NPC, and shouted, "That's ENOUGH!" [2:11:18+]

[ponderingmoonlight]

I'd love Obanai + Sanemi saving reader from a demon (like in the first episode??) You are awesome, thanks!

This escalated so quick damn, but hey, there you have a full on fic hehe - hope you enjoy <3

Sanemi saving your ass even if you don't want to

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,9k

Synopsis: You knew what you got yourself into when you let a demon capture you instead of your beloved friend. Little did you know that help already arrived, viewing you as nothing but a damsel in distress until suddenly, you turn into much more...

Warnings: (y/n) fell but I fell harder, just saw the movie and it's so AHHH, honestly Sameni's voice is so mezmerizing omg, however this includes violence and language, might incluce spoilers for the movie but if you haven't seen it already you don't know what's going on anyway lol, like all my demon slayer fanfics this includes ai pics of reader so if this doesn't sit right with you, I'd suggest to not read it

PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU NEED MORE SANEMI CONTENT

Your dirty cold feet pound against the muddy floor, haunted eyes darted towards nothing but sheer darkness. You still don’t know how you managed to keep the demon from kidnapping your best friend, how you’re still alive when at this very moment, this frightful creature his hunting you down like its prey.

So many innocent young women, one after another disappeared from your village nearby. Why did you never even think about the possibility that you or even worse, a person you love could be next?

Not until now. Not until you stared into the demon’s stone-cold red orbs when it began to run after you. Not until you were the one threatened to get eaten alive.

“Run! Run and don’t look back!”

“But (y/n), you’ll get killed-“

“I won’t. Leave it to me, tell everyone to lock their doors, just don’t come back!”, you screamed on top of your lungs.

“I’m getting impatient, stupid girl. You know you will get killed, right?”

Blood rushed through your ears, body threatened to fail you.

“If you want to kill me you have to get me first, stupid demon.”

How long have you been running for? Minutes, hours? You lost track of time completely with your body screaming, begging you to stop and take a break. The bitter taste of iron covers your whole mouth, blood sticks to your new Yukata like a second skin. Your mother will completely lose it when she sees the crimson discolouring on the white fabric.

“I’m having enough.”

If you ever see her again.

With a swift motion, the demon swings you over his shoulder, his claws digging into your flesh so roughly that you cry out. No, this can’t be the end. You can’t allow yourself to die like this: in the arms of a demon, without even fighting back. No one ever told you what to do, you were always able to stand up for yourself. Today will be no exception. Even if you get killed, you will fight back with everything you have.

“Shinazugawa…Something’s not right.”

Sanemi can’t help but look around, eyes meeting the countless demons around him. What the hell is this place?

“Yeah, I don’t like this, either. I’ve never seen demons swarming around like this.”

“Let me go!”, you yell, fist banging roughly against the creatures’ back while it drags you into what looks like a haunted mansion.

Your eyes widen when you feel multiple pairs of red orbs laying on your body.

“Demon slayers…”, you hear your kidnapper hiss through gritted teeth, turning his head over his shoulder.

Demon slayers? You’ve heard of them before, how they behead every demon coming their way, how desperately they fight for humanity. But…where were these demon slayers when all the girls from your village got kidnapped? Where are they when you need them the most? How absoluteley useless.

You don’t know what has gotten into you. Is it the anger, the grief? With a rapid motion, you dig your nails into the eyes of the demon until he lets you fall to the ground abruptly, groaning out in visible pain.

Everything hurts, a trail of blood follows you as you drag your body against a rotten wall. You feel your body giving in, all the stress, agony and exhaustion rushing over you like a wave. But no, you can’t give up right now. Not when there’s still a slight chance for you to survive.

“You little bitch. Eat her, I will leave and get her little friend.”

Suddenly, the urge to puke becomes almost unbearable. Countless demons come near you, their teeth exposed to the harsh moonlight. No, this is not how you want to end. You can’t die getting eaten alive by these creatures. But what else are you supposed to do? There is no way out of this living hell.

Except for the destroyed window a few steps away. This is your only chance. You drag yourself up, sprint over the rotten wood underneath your naked feet and jump.

Floors into the depths.

Away from the demons, into another certain death.

“Where is the girl?”, Sanemi questions harshly, sword oh so ready to behead that bastard of a demon in front of him while heading down.

Screw this strange place and the countless demons around him, he needs to find you, needs to carry you into safety.

“The girl? She jumped out of a window in order to safe herself. She’s probably dead by now.”

He lets out the breath he didn’t knew he was holding, blank eyes staring at the stone ground his blade has crashed instead of the demon. What was this place?

No, he can’t think about this right now. As fast as his body carries him, he gets out of that cursed mansion, eyes instantly finding your falling body.

Only metres away from crushing into the ground.

Oh, how much you wished it wouldn’t end like this. But maybe this was everything you could do, dying like this is still better than getting eaten up by a demon. Where are those demon slayers? You close your tired lids, enjoy the weightlessness for a brief second. It doesn’t matter now. Hopefully, the demon is long dead before you. At least you're dragging his ass with you…

“Hey, you aren’t dead, are ya?”

That voice…A male voice, without any doubt. So harsh and tempting at the same time that you can’t help but open your eyes in confusion.

Only to be met by purple ones. Male ones, to be exact. Are those...his arms wrapped around your trembling body?

“Let me go!”, you shriek.

It seems like all power that left your body appeared again while you miserably try to fight yourself out of his arms. Who is this man? Another demon, maybe?

“I won’t let you eat me!”

“Eating you? Are you dumb, woman? I’m a demon slayer”, the man in front of you barks, his hands roughly holding onto your arms in order to stop you from hitting him again.

“A demon slayer?” you repeat.

“Yeah, the wind hashira to be exact.”

Your gaze falls from his face to his exposed chest, his toned abs. He breathes heave while still holding onto your arms. Suddenly you feel so…hot.

“You are a demon slayer.”

With a swift motion, you free one of your hands and slap him so hard that he sees stars.

“It sure took you some time to get here! What about all the other women who died here, the countless young girls that were killed by demons you did nothing about? Why did you save me!?”

“I’m wondering that too”, Sanemi mutters under his breath.

Did you actually go inane? The way you look at him with your eyes completely furious, face and yukata smeared in your own blood. You can’t be serious about that, right?

“You should be thankful”, he finally hisses.

“Thankful!? YOU should be sorry!”

“Yeah, I’m sorry for saving you…you…you ungrateful thing!”

“I could have saved myself”, you argue.

“Oh, is that so?”

No, absolutely not. You would have died if it wasn’t for the wind hashira.

“Everything was under control”, you snap at him.

Nothing was under control. This was your last way out of your misery.

“Is it so hard to just be thankful?”, he argues.

“Who’s your new friend, Shinazugawa?”

“We aren’t friends”, both of you reply at once.

Your heavy breath hangs in the air, hands still clenched into fists. Deep down you know how wrong it is to snap at him, that the demon slayer corps aren’t responsible for the countless lives the demons took in this area. But still…Why does it have to be you they saved? Why not the girl next door who would have married the next day or the girl that was supposed to leave only days after she got killed? It’s not fair, it’s not enough, it’s-

You take a heavy step back when your vision starts to get foggy.

“I won’t catch that brat if she faints now”, the wind hashira grumbles.

“We both know you will.”

The last thing you see are his purple eyes before you fall straight into deep darkness.

-a few days later-

“She’s awake now, Shinazugawa. And she asked for you.”

He hates the way his heart skips a beat by hearing those innocent words from Shinobu. You didn’t leave his head. Despite the state of Oyakata-sama, despite the hashira training, despite the stinging fact that the king of demons himself will come for them, you were always on his mind. You, with your strong but feminine eyes. You, who jumped out of a window into certain death only to keep your body away from the mouths of these demons. You, who straight up slapped him. Was it your attitude that caught him off guard? He never experienced a woman saved by him being this ungrateful. Aren’t you aware of the fact that you would have died that night if it wasn’t for him?

“What do you want, brat?”

His words come out harsher than anticipated while your sight simply takes his breath away. Since he can remember, Sanemi was never interested in any women romantically. No, love is nothing but weakness, women mean nothing but trouble. But even though you glare at him with venomous eyes the second he enters the room, he can’t help but feel drawn towards you.  

“You’re a hashira, right?”

Your words sound just as harsh as his, your gaze meeting his with so much strength that it is him who starts to feel uncomfortable.

“Yeah, I already told you that-“

“Train me”, you interrupt him.

“I want to become a demon slayer and kick your ass.”

“You, kicking my ass?”

You grab the fabric of his uniform so roughly that he isn’t able to react, suddenly so close to you that he can feel the heat radiating from your body.

“Train me.”

“Fine brat. I’ll train you. But don’t think I’ll go easy on your ass.”

-bonus-

“Try to keep up, (y/n).”

His katana clashes into yours over and over, makes it hard to stand your ground. But still you fight back, your hands holding onto your sword so tightly that your knuckles stand out white. You just have to win. There is absolutely no way you’ll lose against your master again.

Especially since he’s your lover.

“Are you tired yet?”, he teases you with a smirk.

“Absolutely not”, you press out while dodging another hit just in time.

This won’t help. If you continue to fight like this, he’ll sweep you off your feet like all these countless times before. But what are you supposed to do? It almost seems as if Sanemi has no weakness.

Except you.

“But you’ll be when I’m done”, you purr.

That sudden change of mood catches him completely off guard, forces him to hesitate for the split of a second.

Enough for you to sweep him off his feet, your body resting on top of his while your blade hangs into his face.

“I won”, you announce triumphally.

“You cheated”, he protests underneath you.

“Demons play dirty as well. You need to be prepared for everything-“

All it takes his one swift motion for him to position himself on top of you, body forcing you onto the ground before you’re able to catch a breath.

“Imma show you how dirty playing really works, then.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @kayleegomez @ryva @baku2345 @komelrebi-san

[elizabethemerald]

Don't Sneak up on People with Swords

@im-totally-not-an-alien-2 made a prompt about Danny sneaking up on Jason Todd and @sky00asara made a comment in the tags about what would happen if Danny did that to Talia. So here is my version of that! Enjoy.

Talia al Ghul watched her beloved from afar. He was out, again patrolling his city for those he considered wrong doers. Her son was by his side. She scowled at how Damian’s fighting style had changed, softened in the company of her beloved. Despite her love for the man under the cowl, he had a tremendous ability to take even the most ruthless of killers and change them to spare the undeserving. He had even tried it with her. 

She was hidden on the roof of an abandoned tower nearby. The tower had succumbed to fire and was now condemned until the city got around to destroying it properly. For now it made the perfect place for her to observe her beloved and her son work undisturbed. 

“Excuse me?” 

Talia whirled, drawing her blade as she spun. Her blade moved fast enough to almost cut the air itself yet the small shape ducked under her stroke and back-pedaled quickly to move out her range. 

“Jeez! Why is everyone in this city so jumpy!” 

The voice more than anything made her realize that the person who had somehow snuck close enough was an actual child. Their black hair and blue eyes made her wonder if this was another of her beloved’s adoptees. Except surely this boy was too young to catch Bruce’s eye? 

“Well maybe you should not sneak up on people?” Talia hissed, her voice soft yet stern. To say nothing of how a child who couldn’t be older than five had snuck up on her at all. 

“Well maybe you shouldn’t brood on the roof of my home!” The child snarked back, just like one of the Bat’s brood would, completely unafraid of the blade still in her hand. Talia raised an eyebrow at him then looked around at the burnt skeleton of the building they were standing on. 

“This building is not fit for human occupation.”

“Neither was the last place I lived.” He said dismissively. “This place hasn’t even killed me yet, so it’s practically a paradise.” 

She was tempted to take the child’s words as sarcasm, yet something in the way he spoke made her think he meant it more truthfully. 

“You’ve died before?” Talia asked. She relaxed her hold on her blade, allowing it to rest at her side. 

“Oh yeah, I die all the time.” He said, then he looked at her curiously tilting his head first one way, then another. “You’ve died too, huh?” 

She nodded, now examining him closely, looking for the signs she would recognize. She could see the hint of a scar on the boy’s palm that might have caused a death. 

“What is it with this town that so many people have died and come back?” The boy asked, apparently rhetorically as he didn’t let her answer. “First the stabby Robin, then the stabby Batgirl, then Batman, and even Red Hood. It’s like everyone I run into is contaminated.” 

Talia’s eyes widened. 

“You can sense those who have utilized the Lazarus Pits?” She would have to inform her father about this child. He could put the entire League of Assassins at risk. The child before her just shrugged. 

“I have no idea what that is. Red Hood mentioned some kind of pit as well, but I’ve never seen anything like that. I just know y’all are contaminated with ectoplasm, though not enough to make a core.” 

“What is this… ectoplasm?” Another name for the Lazarus Waters? Had there perhaps been a Pit outside of League control? In the midwest somewhere based on the boy’s accent. 

“Oh it’s this stuff.” He held his hand out and Talia couldn’t help keep her expression of shock withdrawn despite all her training as his hand filled with the glowing green light of the Pits. He held the Pit Water in his hand then tossed the glowing orb to his other hand in a half juggle as if he weren’t carrying the League's greatest secret and weapon. 

Nevermind telling her father about this child, he could never learn of him. If Ras had the power this child had under his control the world would never survive. There was only one option. She needed to train this child to wield this strength. With the stealth he displayed in sneaking up on her and his power over the Pits themselves he could make an assassin like the world had never seen. He could be the next Head of the Demon under her guidance. She knelt down to the boy’s level, slipping her sword back away as she did so. 

“Tell me, young one. Are you living in this death trap of a building all by yourself?” 

“Yeah, but don’t worry, I’ve got it taken care of. I know I’m little, but that just means people are less likely to notice me. I’m able to steal all the food I need from that big box store down the street.” 

“Oh of that I have no doubt. My name is Talia al Ghul. What’s yours?” 

“Hmm. I’m Danny.” The boy seemed hesitant to trust her, which to be perfectly honest was probably a very smart thing to do, but at least she had a name for this gift of Lazarus. 

“Danny, how would you like to come live with me? You won’t have to steal any more, or worry about food ever again, and I could train you how to fight even better than the Bats.” 

He narrowed his eyes at her, looking her over closely. 

“Would I get a sword?” 

“If a sword is what you want, then once you were trained in its use I would acquire one for you.”

Danny looked like he was about to nod, but then he froze, his head tilting to the side as if he was listening to something. His eyes widened and Talia tensed. 

“Uh-oh. Fruit Loop incoming. I gotta go.” 

Talia half turned as she heard the sound of one of her beloved’s grappling lines catching on the building’s edge. By the time she had turned back to face him, Danny had completely vanished. She hadn’t even heard him leave. She stood and scowled as her beloved landed on the rooftop next to her. 

“Talia.” He grunted at her, glaring all the while. 

“Beloved. Must you ruin every nice thing in my life?” Talia snarled back. The boy, Danny, had the gift of Lazarus at his beck and call and Batman had scared him off. 

Bruce looked momentarily stunned at her fury, but quickly hid it behind his mask. However Talia couldn’t care less about her beloved right now. She just needed to lose him so she could return to find the boy. The boy who would change the world with his power. 

[kunikame]

warmth of the sun embodied in you. - ace t.

warnings : mostly narration, astral references, malleus mention, ace is my muse my most beloved im sorry i will never shut up about him, i love the sun i love ace trappola w/c : 1045

there was always something about ace trappola that simply demanded attention. 

it wasn’t something easy to spot, something visible to the naked eye– no, it was something intangible, something deep within him that simply made the people around him unable to look away. his presence simply pulled gazes much like magnets and metals.

some people say it's because he's “such an ass it has you staring”, but then why are their gazes filled with wonder? 

in the time you spent here, you’ve come to find the only person who looked at ace with mostly apprehension was riddle rosehearts, his very own dorm leader. it’s no wonder, really, with how much of a troublemaker the ginger is (and with how many rules he breaks), but even despite that, sometimes, riddle looks at him starstruck as well.

you find yourself questioning this reality. while ace is a dear friend of yours, and he has been exceptionally nice to you (excluding the times he wasn’t because that's just who he is), you still don’t quite understand what exactly about him just has you turning your head to look at the ginger instead of the blackboard crewel is breaking his back to write on.

and it is perhaps in that fateful classroom where you finally begin to piece it together.

there was always something akin to a spotlight placed on ace trappola– whether it be one you imagined, the light from a lamp, or just literally the sun's rays– he was always the main attraction, always eye-catching.

or perhaps, it's not that he placed himself under the spotlights, perhaps the spotlights placed him under themselves. perhaps they chased him, were attracted to him, like moths to a flame. except, shouldn't it be the other way around? no, with ace, it shouldn’t. with or without a spotlight he somehow seems to shine brighter than the lights in rooms he occupies, somehow seems to bring more light than the actual source– and if he’s not the moth, he must be the flame, it just makes sense. 

people didn’t look at him because he was an ass, they looked at him because that’s just ace. simple as that– he is ace trappola and you must look at him, you must pay attention to him. whether he’s performing his card tricks or just spinning a pencil in class, he needs to be looked at because he is ace trappola and his presence demands attention– not quite like malleus, whose presence commands the rooms he enters, but still does so, in a sense.

throughout the next few weeks, you continued to observe the ginger, desperately trying to piece the puzzle together, trying to dissect him and figure out what exactly made him what you know him to be.

it was on a particularly cold autumn friday night, way past your regular bedtime– though, that was a necessary sacrifice to make for the 1st year game night– when you believe you finally figured it out.

you sat perched on the wide windowsill of the lounge, staring at the moon and faintly visible stars, the only never-changing constant in this twisted wonderland that you could confidently say reminded you of home.

the white light radiating off the orb felt mostly cold, but there were some remnants of the warmth the sun shared with it, warmth which it reflected upon the Earth, upon you.

then there was another presence– one of the other 6 current occupants of the lounge.

“what’re you doin’ up so late? couldn't sleep?”

you hum, watching as he seats himself on the opposite end of the windowsill, “yeah, something like that.”

“thinking about something? or was it deuce’s snoring, ‘cause that wakes me up too, sometimes.”

“mostly just thinking. what about you? why aren’t you sleeping? i don’t hear deuce snoring right now.”

he huffs a short laugh, ruffling his ginger mop of a horrendous bedhead, “honestly, i was awake the whole time. Grim kicked me in the head just now, though, so i figured i’d.. relocate, for a bit. thaumark for your thoughts? or we can just observe the moon, or whatever it is you were doing, if you want.”

as you stare at him under the moons’ light, it’s almost like it’s not even the white ball in the sky that radiates the heat and light, but rather ace– but if that were to be the case, that would make him the sun, wouldn’t it? since it’s the primary source, it’s what makes the moon glow?

perhaps he is, perhaps he has been all along, you’ve simply been too blinded by him to truly notice– for as they say, you shouldn’t stare at the eclipse without the proper protection for your eyes. now, as you look at him in the dark, it seems all too clear, all too obvious to deny. ace trappola has always glowed in ways more than perceptible– there was always this bright halo, a warm aura of sorts, around him. ace trappola has always been an enigmatic being to the people around him, whether it be for his way of living, his personality, or simply his behavioral patterns– he was never easy to understand or to decipher, but that’s one of the primary things which made him so interesting. there’s an undeniable pull about him that sucks everything and everyone into his atmosphere, making everything simply revolve around him– much like the planets revolve around the sun. his touch is always warm, burningly so, like he sits in the sunlight, soaking it up, with the sole purpose of being a living human heater. 

and despite people saying it’s best to stay clear of him in fear of being pulled along with his shenanigans, if you were to be given a choice on your position in the solar system ace is the center of, you would choose to be mercury, for incineration is a small price to pay for loving the sun. if you are to lose your vision or crash and burn and fade away into nothingness at the end of everything, then so be it– least your ashes will forever exist in the same space as him.

“i was just thinking you held the rays of the sun in your palms, and it’s warmth in you.”

ੈ✩₊˚TAGLIST : @solxima @lunavixia @gabirii @erigaur @pomegranateboba //ask/comment or fill form to be added/removed! (if you’re in bold i can’t tag you)

[dragonsoulage]

Fighting with his beloved nurse...

feat. Giyuu Tomioka

Giyuu is not used to people that like him and that are concerned for him. He does not even understand why you were angry when he got hurt a little too bad for your taste. Afraid he would need to split apart from his favourite nurse. So you two ended up arguing

Hello world I am still sick but I wrote a little Giyuu stuff here. Idk why I feel like he always would think he is not good enough, poor boy so we need to show him that he is precious ✨ anyways I still suck in proof reading but have fun. That's just the first time I wrote something for Demon Slayer 💖

Wordcount: 2,0 k

Warnings: fluff, fighting, a little suggestive in the end

The situation was kinda frustrating. He just came back from a mission a few days ago.

You were a nurse around from the butterfly estate. Stunning, gorgeous, breathtaking...all these words that popped in Giyuus head when you appeared in his sight. But not only that, you were indeed a kind soul. Always gifting him with the sweetest smiles of all when he returned.

Slowly over the years you build a connection with him. He was a cold man, not really social, so it was not that easy. But you were kind from the bottom of your heart. Not even could harm a fly.

Patients you card for all said the same, you were an angel walking on earth.

But even angels can be mad, right?

You and Giyuu, never really named what this was between you two.

All you knew was that when he came back from a mission, and you saw him, you came walking toward him in a quick pace. Hugging him so tight to make sure he was really there. And Giyuu? He always breathed in your scent. One hand on your face needing to look in the depth of your orbs to make sure, you were there and wouldn't leave, like everyone else.

He grew attached, more than that he loved you. He cared deeply, and yet saying it out loud felt so dangerous.

That poor boy was afraid you would slip away when he wasn't careful enough. Although you would never fade, for what reason?

He may be quiet, but he listened to you, he loved when you were yapping around. Or even the deep talk you two had sometimes in the middle of the night, when you slipped into his room after your late night shift was done.   

But right now? Oh, you were mad. And why? He did his job, as a Hashira eliminated a demon.

But when he had been coming back it was so close that he could've died, you were freaking out...because you were afraid. "Don't act like that would've been nothing. Look at you." you scolded him, as he stood in front of you. You looked everywhere except his eyes.

"I did my job, you are fully aware that I am a demon slayer, what is the trouble. That's not the first time I come back and not be unharmed." he asked, his voice sounded nonchalant.

He wasn't sure how to respond to your subtle anger, especially not when he was wounded.

Probably he didn't even understand the fact that you liked him so much, that you were actually worried. You sighted trying to make the bandage sit a little better.

"Are you mad?" he asked you then, he sat there shirtless as you personally took care of his wounds. Just a little more to the left and his wound would have been critical. You didn't just see Giyyu as a demon slayer or Hashira anymore. You were afraid that someday, he wouldn't come back. Furthermore, you never doubted his talent, but you were worried.

"Do I look happy?" you asked him back, shortly narrowing your eyes. Now he sighted, he thought he did something wrong. Disappointing? Fighting not hard enough? Being not good enough because he was harmed?

These were his thoughts, although it was quite the opposite.

"You don't." he replied curtly, with a heavy voice, his head was making scenarios.

"Right I am not, when that demon would have hit you just a little more left....you would have been dangerously wounded." you meant while you reached around his torso for the bandage. 

  "I endured worse things. I don't understand why you are making a fuss." probably this was not the answer you wanted to hear. Or that anyone want to hear. You loved him, cared so deep for him. It was not a fuss, at least not for you. You saw a lot of demon slayers die in your job, and you didn't want to have him on the list. You were done with the bandage and looked at him, sad eyes coupled with angry ones.

"A fuss? Is that what you think I do when you get back?" You asked him, your voice carried a hint of annoyance. Both of you kinda talking, not straight to the topic. You were worried, and he thought he was not good enough.

"(Y/N)...you patch me up. You come looking for me, I don't mean that you don't do your duty as nurse I..." Giyuu was lost for words. Well, what happened when he came back?

Yeah, it was you, you took your sweet time patching him up carefully. Listened to his dangerous adventure and after that? Showering him with praise and kisses, just to see how badly wounded he is and when it was not, that exhausting, you gifted him with passionate nights.

He grew accustomed to this routine, always wanting to be good for you. Not a lot of people liked him or took even interest in him. Not at all. He was just so afraid he would lose you, before he had the chance to acknowledge his feelings.

"We both know I do more than that...it's not what I meant." you said, and you were done patching him up at least as good as it could get now, because after this he stood up, ignored the pain in his ribs just to take his haori and put it on.

Giyuus face had a slight scowl in his brows, his black long ponytail just slightly disheveled from the journey back and the exhaustion. The bandage around his lower torso, his strong chest showing off even when the haori was already over his shoulders. He made his way to the door.

"I know that we...we are having a thing. That you do more than every other nurse in this estate would do. I just don't understand what is different now then before...." maybe he even mumbled that to himself. With a sigh he opened the door ready to go outside, he was not good dealing with arguments. Not that he couldn't say anything, but with you, it was different. He didn't want to say the wrong thing. He couldn't even bear the face you made. This was when it hit you, he was not going because he was angry too, he was going because he was afraid he fucked up and didn't even know why. Your steps then went fast over to him, and you grabbed the door with your hand before you stopped him from leaving. Gently closing it. "What do you think will happen when we fight, Tomioka?" you asked him, clearly a whole different topic than before. You looked a little strict but your features softer now.   

  Should he be honest? That he was simply afraid he did something truly wrong and lost you? Well, this was at least what he was thinking. Losing that pretty nurse, that made him feel...loved.

"We split, isn't it like that? Not that it would be a surprise." he spoke then, looking everywhere, but not in your face.

"Look at me, when you talk to me. I taught you manners." you meant, it was sounding a little sharp but with that edge...you were softer now. You saw what his problem had been, he didn't got the fact that you were concerned for him, afraid he could die. You liked him too...maybe even more than like. Then Giyuu looked up, poor boy, he was so distance and cold until he met you. He loved your warmth, the way you made him feel prickly in his chest. The way you smiled, the way you brushed strands of his raven hair out of his face. The way your waist felt in his hands, when he pulled you close. The way you smelled when he nuzzled his face in your neck.

"Giyuu..." you started and used his first name, your sweet voice filled with a little regret that you didn't see it that he was insecure, afraid to even.

"Just because I am mad don't mean we split... I am sorry when I made you feel unwanted. It was not-" before you could even finish, he stepped closer, his one hand reaching out cupping your cheek. It was even enough for him to hear that you don't split. You were his only person he wanted to have close now, where he allowed himself to be close.

"You didn't make me feel unwanted. It was just...the way you scolded me, making me...fear I did something that upset you so much you would change your mind about me." he said to you, his voice was now lower. "And I don't want to upset you. I just can't change the fact that fighting demons is my job, and apparently I am quite good at it." he added.

You laid your hand over his. It was a tender gesture. Nearly like all the tension flew away suddenly.   

  "I was just afraid... I don't want to lose you. You know? I see demon slayers die every day... I like you, you know. You don't complain about my yapping, the way you hold me close. I like all these things, and I was just concerned. Sorry that it overwhelm me and that I was being too hard to you." alone the fact that you apologized because you maybe reacted a little over in such a moment. The fact you spoke out you didn't want to lose him, that you liked him. Giyuu was anything than good at expressing his feelings. He pulled you just a little closer to give you such a loving kiss on your forehead. Before his forehead rested against yours. He took a deep breath.

"Actually (Y/N), I like you more than just...like. That is why I fear you wouldn't keep me around when I wasn't good enough." it was a little plain, not the passionate confessing others dreamed off. But it was his confession. The way he told you he loved you.

"You are a Hashira, you are one of the best, the best. My best." you answered him before you then reached out and placed a kiss on his lips. It was sweet at first, all the feeling you two had poured into this kiss. All at once. Then your hands slid up his bare chest. You felt his muscles tensing slightly, the way he shivered when your cold fingertips went over his skin. Before you laid your hands around the back of his neck.

"So we are going back to the usual routine when you patch me up?" he then asked, with flushed cheeks his one hand had grabbed gently your waist pulling you closer. He was still injured, and in pain, at least with certain movements. He just spoke in between the kiss, loving the way your lips felt against his.

"Depends on how much are you hurt?" you asked in between before gently guiding him back to the bed for patients. Where he sat down. Looking up at you with such ocean eyes. It was always so cute when he blushed because he was excited. "Not that much...you could be on top." He suggested with a tone kinda desperate for you. He would lie when he said he wouldn't love the fact that after you patched him up that you gave him such a delightful treatment. You guided him to lay down and straddled his lap, your cute nurse skirt rising up a little, and his hands went to the new exposed creamy skin he found. Rough hands caressing you. You then tilted your head just a little. Maybe one round he could take before he really should rest. "Oh, is that so? Not so much? Well while I will try to make you feel better, you can just continue to tell me how much you like me, that's a deal right?" Your voice was sweet when you said that, the whole argument forgotten, but of course not the fact that he admitted he liked you more than just a bit. And you would use this now to your advantage and gifting him with his beloved patching up routine...  

[xxchaosjojoxx]

Spirit animal (Penguin x zoantype!reader)

A/N: I never saw the idea of our beloved Heart pirates with a reader who has their matching zoan type so I tried to do something. Like Penguin with a Penguin?? It sounds cuter in my head but I hope I managed it somehow.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. You just wanted to travel and see the world. But this damn weird looking fruit…why did you have to turn into a penguin? As you were walking through the streets, talking to yourself you could see the gaze of different people on you. And then suddenly they look at you with such greed in their eyes.  “This penguin…can talk…” And then you ran away. Why do you need to run away from some pirates? With your tiny feet you ran as fast as you could. You could hear their voices, shouting that you should stop right now and their footsteps coming closer. As you were to turn around the corner you bumped against something. As you were looking up you saw a mysterious young man. You couldn’t see his face clearly. He tilted his hand in confusion and you wanted to get up but those pirates were behind you.

“There you are, you little shit. You will make us rich.” This filthy hand came closer and you couldn’t do anything except closing your eyes and shivering.

Only after hearing a loud “yelp” you opened your eyes again and saw that this mysterious man was wielding a spear and he defended you.

“If you ever try to touch it again, I will end you.” His voice sounded so coldly and a shiver ran down my spine.

The pirates were mumbling. “His jolly roger…isn’t it the one from the Surgeon of Death?”

You looked at the mysterious man once more and they were right. It was the jolly roger of the Surgeon of Death, Trafalgar Law. Well fuck.

As the men were running away, the man kneeled down towards you.

“I have no idea why a penguin is on an island like this. This isn’t your typical living area, I suppose?” His eyes were still hidden from you. But you could see his smile plus his voice sounded much calmer and soft right now. There was a big hat on his head.

“You see, my name is Penguin. Maybe you are my spirit animal.” He grinned and you could feel your heart doing a little jump.

He tilted his head, chuckling. “Didn’t know Penguins could get flustered.” He stood up holding a hand towards you.

“What do you say? Should we bring you home?”

And without hesitation you followed him.

This is how you ended up inside the Polar Tang. To be more specific, sitting in front of Trafalgar Law himself, watching you with an unamused look in his eyes.

“To make sure, I understand everything: You found a penguin in this town?”

Penguin nodded his head. “And some pirates chased it?”

He nodded once more. “Yeah, I heard some gossip about a talking Penguin. But this little one here, didn’t make a sound at all.”

Law saw directly in your eyes. “Do you understand me, Penguin?”

“Of course Captain.” Law sighed. “Get out Penguin, this is confusing. I will check on IT.”

Penguin left with a disappointed look. “But please be nice.”

As you heard the door closing he groaned. “Do you understand me?”

What are you supposed to do? Talking? Nodding?  What noise does a penguin even make?

Law sighed once more. “Ok you are clearly afraid of me, but don’t worry I won’t hurt you.”

You nodded shyly and a soft and short smile was shown on his face.

“I just want to check up on you, is it ok?” With a nod you saw a soft blue orb surrounding your little body.

“Seems like you are healthy. Man, what should I do with you? I can’t abandon you. Penguin would end me for sure. But I can’t babysit you either.” He groaned and his fingers were gracing the bridge of his nose.

“Plus we can’t name both of you Penguin. This is confusing.”

You had no idea why this made you so angry but it did. With a little squeak you jumped down and while grabbing the nearest Pencil, you wrote down your name on the ground.

“Your name is y/n?” He asked confusedly and you nodded and tried to smile.

He was leaning down towards you. “You might be a smart one, but maybe you are just a human, who ate a devil fruit.” There was no way you could reveal it. You were too scared of what might happen.

“Well, I have no time for it today. We’ll figure it out tomorrow, y/n.” He was about to leave the room. “Oh one more thing. If my theory is true and you are just a zoan type devil fruit user and you try to deceive us, I’ll make sure that you meet the ocean very soon. So I’ll wait for you first thing in the morning. Get some rest.” With that he left.

Maybe he said the truth and they wouldn’t hurt you. But you heard enough stories about him and the heart pirates. So the only option for you was to escape the polar tang. It was surely late enough and they were probably sleeping. So you have to sneak out, get your human form back and then hope that he won’t ever find you.

As you were trying to find an exit, you could see the mysterious man on deck. “Sup Penguin.” He grinned. “Law told me that you are all healthy.”

You just looked at him. How are you supposed to leave right now?

Without noticing, he came closer and had a snack in his hand. “In case you are hungry.” His smile could melt your heart any time at this point. The next thing you remember, you were about to wake up. As you  opened your eyes, your gaze were looking around in a dark room. You tried to sit up but some weight was on your torso. As you were looking down you could see your torso and your arms. “I am human again..:”. With a smile you turned your head and froze up. A handsome young man was lying next to you in bed. “Right I wanted to escape but Penguin found me. I waited for him to fell asleep, guess I was sleepier than I thought.” With a soft sigh you tried to wiggle yourself out of his grip. He looked really beautiful, especially with the moonlight highlighting his face. You slapped yourself for thinking that way. Maybe it was too loud, he groaned and you were scared that he might wake up. “Shit, I have to transform back somehow. Come on. Come on” You whispered with a hint of panic in your voice. You closed your eyes for a second and suddenly you were back into your penguin form. Penguin moved beside you, snuggled himself closer to you. You could feel his breath on your face and you couldn’t help but be flustered and imagine how wonderful it would be to stay by his side.

“Maybe I should try talking to Law first and after that I can plan to escape.” You mumbled to yourself and closed your eyes til sleep overcame you. Maybe you could find a solution and stay with the man beside you.

What you didn’t notice was the redhead on the other side of the room, looking at you with wide eyes. “The fuck is going on here?”

[eldritch-spouse]

We’ve got tiny reader, tiny tce, what about tiny icon queen? 

“Oh, woe is me~ lost in a huge mansion spending what feels like an eternity wandering from room to room looking for my beloved”

Seriously though. Can you imagine how long it would take a shrunken person to make their way from a bedroom, probably down a flight of stairs, and into a dining room; where they finally meet up with their icon to show them what happened. 

The Queen is tiny 👑

Zizz is so in love with you like this. He was before, but now- You're literally plush sized. You have become his plush. He's going to put you in nice puffy clothes and nap with you held to his chest and just generally non-stop coo at you forever. He needs to kiss you on your tiny forehead at least twenty times a day or he will die.

Rinx is keeping you in his pockets. It's much easier to keep track of you at this size, it makes something in his little kleptomaniac, possessive brain very happy. Even though Rinx is the one with the orb-head, you'll find yourself the one being pondered intensely. He puts you on top of his tallest pile of riches and swoons to himself, giggling like a school girl.

Cero makes it clear that, although drastically smaller, you're still a Queen, and as such you must behave the exact same way. He'll get you smaller paraphernalia for the time being, keep carrying yourself elegantly. No, he's not carrying you because he likes the feeling of you on his palm, Cero just can't take your much slower pace. He has way too much fun putting you in a small dress but won't admit it.

Good news, Kalymir won't throw you at a wall. But intrusive thoughts tell him to squish you, so he doesn't hold you for too long. He does however, mock you the entire day. You're even weaker! It's hilarious to him. The King pins you with his thumb and index and watches you squirm to get out, biting and cursing. He wants a picture of you next to his DOOM guy figurine.

Vesper... Come on. You know he's immediately going to jam you in his slit. Get cozy in there, you're not leaving for a while, except when he really can't keep his cocks in anymore and doesn't want to crush you. That doesn't mean the debauchery is over, you won't be left alone for a long while, but you can rest on his fluff when you're too fucked out to care about anything anymore.

Vorticia orders her imps to lock you in a container she can't break, because she knows she'll just swallow you if she's left unsupervised with you for long enough. In fact, she spends the entire day trying to keep herself busy, a mixture of cuteness aggression and genuine hunger having her periodically stop to stretch her jaw around your container before she gets a hold of herself and apologizes.

Livius is squealing out loud. He might enter cardiac arrest at his young age. He gets you a little outfit like his and beads he can put in your hair yo mimic his rings. And then he just carries you absolutely everywhere like an invaluable treasure, hissing and snapping at whoever stares at you. With his Queen like this, there's nothing that could steal your attention from him. Why, he just has to wrap his hands around you and hide you from the world.

[exhaustedrebel05]

Whatever the weather

Arcane Viktor x Fem! Reader

a/n: Hi, so this is the first time I post something that I wrote, I hope you like it.

I do not own anything here except the product of my creativity.

��️Warnings⚠️: mentioned feelings of despair, chronic illness, fluff, new fanfic writer who wrote this on a whim, and possible bad punctuation.

Tell me if I forgot something pls

Summary: You bring food to Viktor in the lab and end up having a moment.

Definitions: Zaya means "little bunny" in Russian. At least, that is what Google told me.

And here we go...

The hallways of the Academy echoed with your footsteps as you made your way to Viktor and Jayce's lab. Well, more Viktor's than Joyce's now that he was more involved in the political side of progress.

Viktor tried to act like the absence of his friend and fellow Hex tech founder didn't bother him, but you knew that deep down it did. You could see it in the way he was returning to old habits of believing he had to do everything on his own.

Even though he did not, and was not on his own. Especially with his declining health. It is not the best idea to leave him alone for hours on end.

You all understood that it was better if they had a say in the decisions regarding Hex tech's future. In order to ensure that it is safe from ending up in the wrong hands. Hands that would use it to destroy lives instead of improving them.

Nonetheless, it left much of the work for Viktor to go through alone, but he never complained. Your beloved is a man racing against time and fate.

Trying to complete and discover as much as his delicate body allows him to. Powering through all of the equations and push backs that came his way.

However, he could only do so much running on maybe four hours of sleep and the academy's cafeteria food. Which is why you were here, at his lab's door, fully expecting to see him hunched over his current project. Fully focused. Tuning out all of the world in order to improve it.

Knowing this, you don't even bother knocking on the large ancient doors; entering the lab filled with papers and project pieces scattered in a sort of organized chaos throughout the room. And in the back of said chaos is Viktor, sitting at his desk exactly as you imagined.

As you walk towards him, you decide to stand beside him and attempt to make your presence known without giving him a heart attack.

Like you had nearly done that one time.

You swear that man nearly jumped six feet from his chair when you placed a kiss on his cheek. Thinking that he had heard you come in.

No response...

With a gentle sigh, you lean down towards him and call his name in a sing-song voice. Hoping to bring him back to your plane of existence.

You reach out slowly, twinkling your fingers in front of him. He takes notice, chuckling as your fingers gently tap on the side of his face - then his nose.

"Hello love," He says, looking up to you with those golden orbs that make your knees weak. He sets down his work and kisses your hand.

"Hi, care for a break?" You ask, showing him the container of home cooked food you had brought him. He turns his chair to face you completely. His focus filled expression turned into delight.

"Hmmm, I suppose I could indulge." He answers, raising a mischievous eyebrow reaching out to take the food.

You move the container slightly out of his reach. Eyes trained on his expression of confusion that turns into acceptance of your challenge.

"Oh, that's how it is?" He asks, amusement apparent in his voice and expression.

"How what is?" You reply nonchalantly as possible, trying to keep a smile from spreading across your face.

The amusement filled amber eyes became daring as a beat of energy filled silence passed between you both. You were not protected from what came next.

Slender hands find their way to your waist and tickle you with no mercy. You squeal and try to move away, but you are held in place.

"Nah ah ah! Zaya, you are not getting away from me that easily!" He states as he attacks you with another wave of tickles.

"I surrender…I surrender!" You gasp, breathless from your laughter.

He hums satisfied with his victory and pulls you close, looking up into your eyes from his seated position.

Your cheeks are flushed from his little attack, and your eyes are bright from your laughter. The moment eases his mind and body. He wishes the two of you could stay here, like this, forever.

His life is not easy. At times, the pain is too much for his body, and he wants nothing more than for it to stop. To find peace and freedom from his all too delicate state.

But then who will finish all the work?

Understand all of his notes and research?

Progress doesn't happen on its own, and Jayce has his hands full with his new role.

Then there was you…

He never expected anyone to have a romantic interest in him, much less knowing that his time may no- would be limited. That in the end, you would be left all alone...

That is what troubled him the most.

You told him you would cross that bridge when you get there. That you understood what it meant to love him; and he was loved nonetheless.

It wasn't always easy, but that is what it means to love someone. It is standing beside them when times are at their worst. When they are at their worst.

Being there to help them back on their feet and facing the challenge together. He also knew how fortunate he was to have what so many others only dreamed about.

You place a hand on his cheek and brush the wild tousled hair out of his face with the other. Bringing him back from his thoughts, grounding him to the present.

"Hey, come back to me." Your voice is as soft as your expression. Eyes gazing lovingly into his own, which were equally enamored.

He gently tugs your arms, signaling for you to come closer.

"I am here."

His eyes never leave yours as he brings you in for a passionate kiss. He doesn't know what the future holds, but he knows you both will cross that bridge when you get there.

[noirbriar]

Glorestor: 5 Times They Denied (Final)

+ 1 time They Did Not.

From the POVs of the various folks around the 2 elves who are convinced they are courting, or betrothed, even though they were told otherwise.

OOC as always is all on me and canon is super hazy now but ahhh I tried

The final part! Thank you esp @mae-it-be-an-evening-dhros @tamilhobbit @the-dreaming-plastic-dinosaur for following this indulgent writing of mine as part of me coping with things and being so kind to my first experiment writing based on Tolkien's works!

Sometimes, its the kindest ones who break the most.

---

6] Elrond Earendilion

Elrond is tired.

Here he sits on Celebrian's favourite bench in their balcony, watching the blazing crimson sun setting over the cliffs of his beloved Imladris. The light flooding the valley with endless red. Like fire, burning the skies, dripping into the water flowing endlessly, the life blood of all in this realm.A swallow chirps and lands on his shoulder, weightlessly and with ease.

Vilya pulses with every breath and each pulse of his fea as Elrond feels the fine well of power entangling around him. The Lord have been feeling the weariness of the ages sinking deep and clinging heavy on his bones.

The dull weight of it all drags on, settling on his spirit, plunging into depths unknown, rolling down and down, pulling into a deep, dark ocean beyond even Ulmo's reach.

Deeper.

And deeper.

And deep-

"-rond? Elrond!"

Elrond gets startled out of his darkening thoughts as the little swallow flutters off and faces the one face that he had always known.

One he and his brother have come to known as warmth and safety since they were but tiny elflings. Against the burning sky, Erestor stands before him, bent low with a gentle hand over his own, the one that bears the weight of power. The older ellon's cold hands cooling unlike the overbearing heat of his own skin. His slate green eyes dark, filled with a wide array of emotions unspoken, swirling in those orbs.

Right now, his Chief Councillor has forgone his usual heavy black robes, except for his elegant brocade robe of office over a tunic and leggings. The gold earcuff and feanorian earring shinning brightly.His twin blades strapped by his side and a crimson red scarf. No longer a mere advisor, Erestor and a select few of his staff have taken up the duty as the last means of defense of the Valley with the absence of Glorfindel and their troops.

Yet to Elrond, before him is not his Councillor and advisor, but one he and his brother have long recognised as another peredhel and claimed as kin of their own.

"Tor."

Elrond shifts and tugs Erestor down to sit beside him, the Lord of Imladris easing away the persona he carries.In his own private quarters, he cares not. The quiet guardian lets him, allowing Elrond to lean his head on his shoulder, his cold hand holding his own.The rare instance where Elrond feels the suppressed fea of the elder, the cold light bringing him familiar comfort. There was always something about the elder's fea he could never explain and he never knew why Erestor did so. Elrond never asked.

"You should not push yourself, Elrond." Erestor whispers.

"This land and many depend on me. As well as those further west. The darkness grows and without the strength of the land, it will be hard on our forces."

"Glorfindel and our warriors are more than capable of defending our borders against the wretched claws of evil and their ilk."Erestor admonishes gently, rubbing mindless circles on the peredhel's hand."You must rest, it will do us no good should you wear yourself thus. Arwen worries too."

"My precious daughter...always so sensitive and thoughtful. Even if I loathe to part from her, she has grown and found her own path. My sons, even if they have not made their choice to sail, they are finding their own place in this world. I cannot help but wonder...where does this leave me?"Elrond whispers his heartache in melancholy, closing his eyes and tries to ease the tension in him.

He is so, so tired. Like a thin piece of string, tattered and worn as time went on.

How he wished he could return to those innocent days! Safe and warm.There were days where he yearned for vague memories of the arms of nana, the hazy and distant gentleness of his adar's hand. Oh! How he longed for Celebrian's infectious joy and light. The ever smiling Celebrimbor's optimism. The ever practical Erenion and his laughter. In all that he had lost, he misses them the most. Dearest Elros by his side as they played with their strong Atto, with Atya singing enthralling songs and wonderous lullabies into the wild breeze.

His heart is so greedy and wants for them all. Fragments of light out of his grasp. Little fragments is all he craves.

"To be honest, when all is over, I had no desire to sail."

Erestor's words throws Elrond out of his maudlin thoughts like a broken glass, bringing everything to a standstill. The air freezes as Elrond's heart sinks, the younger elf turns harshly around as he hears the feanorian's proclamation.

"What?"

"I have long thought I shall fade here. On this very land where my Atar and my Amil have held me and my siblings in their embrace. " Erestor stares at the crimson dusk, "Where it all began, is where I will find my end. The only home I had. Where all my memories are, and have possessed all that I have ever known."

The string breaks.

"You can't!"

Elrond snarls, grabbing Erestor's arms, clinging almost like a desperate man reaching for a distant shore. The son of Earendil and Elwing feels that the abyss have finally caught him in its cold maw, the endless waves of loneliness and loss, regrets and sorrow that he have kept away for so long, now unchained in its fury. He had long known many of the old feanorians and the noldor have thought to remain in Middle Earth, with Imladris as their final Home. However, to hear those words from his longest friend, protector and kin-

The power beneath this land moans painfully with her master's sorrow, clinging to Elrond like a child seeking solace.

"Everyone I have known and love are lost and gone. Forsaken and abandoned! I cannot! I cannot lose you as well, Tor!"

Elrond gives in as he finally wails, wretched and tormented, ages of heartache and desires bursting forth. The remaining one finally starts to crumble under the weight he has borne.

Dear Erestor who watched over him and Elros, and sheltered them after Maedhros and Maglor were gone. The one they have taken as their older sibling. Who had held them in the cold, somber nights in Lindon, with battered bloodied hands and lustrous raven locks shorn from his head. Who mourned with him the death of their beloved Elros, and the fall of his legacy. The one built with him this haven and held his own children with the same gentle hands filled with scars. The one who kept him and his children going as Celebrain's ship sailed.

Elrond has had enough.

"I don't want to lose anyone anymore. Please, Tor. You are all I have left..." was all Elrond could plead with what selfishness he could find in him.

He is a healer, he has seen broken hurts and deep wounds buried in the soul, mending each unspoken pain little by little with what strength he carries.

But who would bear and heal the pain of the healer then?

"Oh, Elrond..."

The old feanorian caresses his face in tender hold, wiping away the tears he have not realised were there from his redden cheeks. Bathed in ephemeral crimson light, the two companions through the ages holds the other quietly.

"Do not weep." Erestor whispers into his ear as he embraces the younger peredhel in sorrow.

"I will not lie, that was my thought for the longest time, to remain in the land where my amil and my siblings have laid to rest before passing into the Halls. I am tired, truth be told. Yet with all that has happened recently... watching you, the young ones, even Bilbo and the Dwarrow and Edain, and all who have came to this haven we have forged...I find myself wondering, if I could find that courage that you all have shown to walk a different path?"

Erestor then turns back towards Arien, watching the crimson setting sun. While Elrond stares up wonder at this Erestor who is still that calm and mighty guardian, yet different all the same. Within his eyes, they seem to hold a different light. A light that he feels in their shared bond of kinship in their fea, a burning ember chasing away the creeping darkness that have grown far and deep away inside.

And Elrond feels.

Things then swiftly happen in immediate succession, like something in the distance shattered and mended. A change in the air as that unseen miasma of dread it lifts as the birds cry. Vilya shudders, the elven ring trembling in resonance, before finally dimming itself into almost nothingness.

The horn of the Valley resounds.

An age ends. Another shall soon begin.

---

The residents of Imladris awaits at the square for the troops returning, bearing the wounded and the lost, but triumphant still with news of the destruction of Sauron and his Ring. Elrond bears his mantle once more with his circlet and heavy robes embroidered with patterns of gliding stars, hollow still but no longer in deep woe.

Vilya remains silent.

Their Lord descends to welcome their armies and the Edain back Home. Arwen remains close by his side, dressed in silver and silk. His daughter, ever empathic and sensitive. Her quiet presence a balm after that release of emotions welled up and sealed in him through the ages, bringing about much relief to his weary heart.

Bilbo Baggins, even with his body growing old and frail now that the final connection as Ringbearer is lost, hobbles slowly beside him in careful steps. The Hobbit probably hopeful for some news of his nephew and the fellowship.

A long welcoming horn sounds and there beyond the bridge, they see Glorfindel, glowing with the light of Aman, leading their victorious warriors and the last of their wounded home. Elrond's heart gladden to see them safe once more. As the Lord of Imladris, Elrond breathes in deeply the refreshing clean air, ready to give a speech to welcome them all home-

Right before he could get a word out, a blur of a shadow darts out, his Chief Councillor leaps elegantly past the many steps and simply crashes straight into his Captain dismounting Asfaloth. His favourite crimson scarf falling and lays forgotten in his wake.

The Golden Lord would have fallen over by the sudden unexpected impact from being pounced upon him if not for his unnatural strength. The Balrog-slayer dropping his helm and swiftly catching the dark haired elf with a hand on his back and another placed almost naturally on his assailant's bottom with no hesitation. The startled warrior's surprised noise also does not hinder Erestor in the slightest as he wraps his arms around the taller ellon and greets him.

Head on with a hard kiss.

Elrond nearly chokes.

The world seems to stop in that instant. Not a soul breathes. Not even as the caravan and wagons of the wounded behind holler at what was on with the hold up from behind. Asfaloth simply snorts in disbelief with a shake of his great head only a horse can, and wisely chooses to trot further away.

Everyone else remains still. Not even willing to move a muscle as the couple parted after a long heated kiss before a stunned audience, heaving with adrenaline and foreheads touching close.Unbothered and unconcerned.The silence is deafening, before someone finally speaks.

"Marry me, Laure." Erestor whispers, breathless.

Glorfindel gasps. His eyes bright with emotions, wild and free. The Hero of Gondolin could only gaze at his partner wordlessly filled with a fierce passion and endearing love.

"Eres? You are certain? You know we do not have to. I care not for oaths or promises or ceremonies, but only you by my side. My fea knows only you, forever and always. I am content!”

"No!"

Erestor's hands clutches into the white cape of their Captain, his eyes fierce with raw determination, their unbridled Tempest.

"No more I shall fear of the unknown. Neither of Oaths nor Doom. Even if I am damned to the Void, even if I must claw my way out of the abyss, I will find my way back to you! It is you, and only you that I will hold till the end of all of Eru's Songs! I want to be one with you meldanya*. I am ready."

If there was a tear from either of them, no one could say for they were so enthralled by the words they share.

“My brave Eres! Have I not told you before? May it be in the light of grace or endless Void, all I care is you as you are. It will never change! If it is what you desire, then let us become one! None will keep you from me, for what use is my poor existence if I cannot keep my heart by my side?" Glorfindel smiles, holding Erestor close with no concern to the travel-worn state he is in. With a lighter, softer peck upon the soft lips of his partner.

“You need not protect me. Just, stay beside me, as I face what is ahead, that is all I shall ask. ” Erestor whispers softly. It was plain for all to see, even with that cool mein, their ever stern Councillor was basking in the raw light of love.

“That I can do.”Glorfindel returns with a soft laugh, eager and proud in their joy.

"I am sorry. I am sorry it took so long."

"Nay, it matters not for we are here at last, and what do you know? I am ready too." Glorfindel then pulls Erestor into a deep embrace.

"Let us be bound, Eres, and never be apart."

"Aye."

Elrond does not know why or how but watching this all unfold before his eyes, his two friends finally answering to those unspoken feelings that they have all long known felt like a refreshing air of relief for himself. The Lord can only give a loud laugh at the incredulous timing in the whirlwind of it all. Like a chapter coming to an end on its own.

Their happiness is so infectious and warm, that it urges the half-elven on with an unexpected impulsiveness as he descends down the steps to meet the couple. His arms reaching out and pulling them into a hug with his dear friends. Which causes the trio of Lords to nearly fall over into an unseaming heap if not for Glorfindel and Erestor pulling Elrond and each other safe on their feet on the solid ground.

"Mellyn nin! Does this mean we can safely deem that you are both together? After so many years, we are to have a wedding in the Valley then?" The Lord of Imladris smiles, feeling lighter than ever.

The couple shares a an uncharacteristically shy look, probably realising their open affections have been on full on display. The two shuffling awkwardly, as Glorfindel pulls back his golden braid and Erestor straightening his robes. Even as their hands remain clasped together through the motions.

"Aye."

"We are."

With that the dam breaks and there are cheers and roars from all around. The felicitations and laughter blooming and loud, even out beyond the gates, voices echoing far across Imladris.

Elrond even spots several bags of coin being passed around. Looks like the age old wagers have ended, one that he was unfortunately unable to participate out of fairness and status. His foresight definitely did not foresee any of this, Elrond can be certain, despite whatever one may believe. There were some hands passing over even to a rather eager Bilbo and...Arwen!? Elrond gives his daughter a incredulous stare of dismay with a raise of his brow, but Arwen simply wiggles the bag and mouths, "Aragon's!"

Right.

"But we will not be having a wedding."

The sounds all come back to a halt, leaving the birds to continue with their delightful song.

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!"

Everyone gets startled by the suddden aggressive shout and turns to its unlikely source. The ever polite and dutiful Steward of the House, Head Minstral of the bards, Lindir, stands in utter dismay and fury. A look of disdain upon his face with a hand clutching his robes in great horror. Elrond is rather certain its overly dramatic and very much out of character for the usually placid minstrel.

"No! No! Absolutely no! I have waited for an age for this and I refuse to accept-Its not how things are done! I made plans! I drafted songs! I will be vindicated! I WILL SEE A WEDDING!" Lindir declares with a glorious wave of his sleeves. Some of the household staff can be seen nodding in agreement.

Alright, he stands corrected with further observation. The little sleeve sweep was so much that he is reminded of Atya. Lindir certainly has enough flair to match with the Noldor he admires.

The couple can only simply blink blankly in response.

"But, we do not have the resources allocated for it, Lindir. Besides, we are short on time, we must prepare for our Arwen's wedding and for our House to journey forth to Gondor. There is also our wounded and our dead to care for, either way, it is not feasible at all." Their ever calculating and planning Councillor explains calmly.

"I politely disagree, my Lord Erestor."

Everyone now turns to Saelbeth who is the one to interrupt his mentor with a bow. His hands tucked in his sleeves as he steps forward from the group of councillors gathered.

"We not only have an abundance of resources stored, our staff and soldiers are more than capable and equipped to run autonomously. In fact, much of the preparations have already begun. Our household is more than proficient to handling the arrangements should our Lords be amendable in our suggestion."

Erestor narrows his sharp eyes at his protege, who is undaunted by the fierce look. As if the feanorian did not expect the efficiency he has implemented in this House to choose now of all times to work against him of all things.

Glorfindel gives a slight cough which sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

"We are also, able to oversee the duties of our troops as needed, if necessary." Deputies Laica and Thandor concurred from behind without prompt.

Which only earns them a careful glance from their Commander, one that the soldiers have chosen to disregard. Glorfindel rolls his eyes with an unbelivable shake of his head, muttering something along the lines of 'insubordination'.

"To be honest, Eres and I, we have both desired to only be wed simply by bonding. For our kin and friends here in our beloved home to recognise it, is more than enough." Their Captain elaborates, although this answer just seem to infuriate the usually calm minstrel even more, that the sindar is made speechless as he tries to breathe with his staff supporting him behind.

Elrond is a little guilty to find the whole situation a tad comical in any other circumstances.

"You will both not grant me the chance to witness an elven Wedding in my Home before I leave?"

They all turn around and come face to face with his daughter. Their beloved princess, their Evenstar, reaching out to hold their hands in hers. She gazes at her mentors and guardians with those gentle eyes, glimmering and full of hope under the golden rays of a new age of peace.

"Arwen-" Erestor began but Arwen urges him to listen with a shake of her head.

"Uncle Erestor, Uncle Glorfindel. Long have I wished to see you joined and blessed in ceremony. Will you not grant me this? Please?"

With that, Elrond can see the couple's resolve fall. Which was not surprising. For the two loved his daughter as though his children were their own since they were born. Elrond remembers the nights he and Celebrian handed his children to the two, watching them care for the young little elflings with so much care and selfless love.

Although that little spark in Arwen eyes is a little too obvious. Elrond gives his daughter an exasperated but fond look for that. It is somewhat reassuring to know his children all have not lost all of their playful innocence after all they have experienced in life and will carry them forth in what lies ahead.

Erestor manages to resist for a good while before giving a resigned sigh. He shares a knowing look with Glorfindel who returned with a wistful shrug.

"We can compromise, I suppose. Who needs tradition anyway in our haven, a Home for all walks of life?"

And compromise they did.

After mourning for the ones that have passed and comfoting those who grieved, the rest of Imladris sang for all, for those who cry and those who are to heal, and for everlasting peace.

Until the voices cease and raises once more in the flurry of excitement and chaos. The whole of Imladris prepares for the journey to Gondor and Arwen's wedding. Here in Imladris, where all of the elves from every clan have settled and called home for more than an age all prepare in their strange mix of elven customs hashed together in celebration.

On the night before their departure and their supposed wedding ceremony, Glorfindel and Erestor disappears, while Imladris makes merry in the name of the married couple.

The duo only emerges once more at the break of dawn, with Arien's greeting upon them. Glorfindel and Erestor appear, walking down the path from the sea of beech trees serenely, dressed in beautiful robes that Elrond has vaguely remembered from years long ago on one autumn eve. Their hair braided in a mix of noldor and vanyar patterns. They bear no wedding rings, but upon their brow, rests the circlet of their mate, with golden flowers shining against raven dark hair, and an elaborate twisting weaves gleaming upon glowing gold locks. It was plain for all to see, the marriage bond is complete and proud.

They stand before The Lord of Imladris and Arwen by his side, Lindir standing nearby bearing the ceremonial water from the Bruinen with almost the entirety of the Last Homely House welcoming the newly bonded Lords back with flowers. With bended knee, they greeted him and presented each other as their rightfully bonded mate, awaiting for his blessing. One that Elrond is more than eager to give, as he holds their warm hands in his.

Warm?

Under all that happiness, Elrond suddenly senses a familiar light in Erestor as well. Elrond feels, and is surprised to find Erestor's fea dancing unbound, like a little ember on a quiet eve. With Glorfindel's powerful light mingling through like blooming vines, caressing across the shared connection. He simply cannot put a finger to no matter how he tried. Although he is unable to give much thought to it with most of his House eager to approach and congratulate the newly wedded couple until the time comes that they must leave for the long journey to Arwen's future.

Elrond watches it all, as he had done through the ages. A sense of acceptance settles within him as he urges his mount on, taking the first step out of Imladris with his daughter and friends by his side, and the elves of Imladris following behind.

Elrond turns to the boundless skies beyond.

Everyone is finding their own path, its probably time he walks down his own as well.

---

Flags flutter in the wind. Sails are prepared, and the ships are ready. Elrond observes as everyone else bid farewell to friends and kin. He has already made his goodbyes to his children but as a father, it is still difficult to part with them, forever his and Celebrian's treasured little ones. Bilbo and Frodo are huddling with their kin while Galadriel and Olorin speak with Cirdan in quiet voices.

It is hard to comprehend that he himself is finally leaving these shores for some place he has only heard and never seen. May it be from tales in the books or words of others. The unknown seems so difficult to grasp now that he is facing it.

"Elrond."

Elrond turns and sees Erestor and Glorfindel approaching, probably done with overseeing things.

"Tor." Elrond indulges a childish whim, greeting his advisor the nickname out in the open. Before he is pulled into a warm embrace by his old companion.

"Be safe. Be happy."

"I will."

A press of their foreheads, the two part, before Glorfindel hugs Elrond as well.The warrior's arms folding over his form, strong yet gentle. Oh Glorfindel! Fair and selfless, who protected him and his family since the days of old, always cheerful and supportive. The defender of Imladris who sang so beautifully and made the flowers dance. Who also have the terrible habit of enabling little elflings with too much sugar and making him laugh.

He will miss them both dearly. His precious friends who have walked by his side.

"Send my regards to Celebrian and everyone there, alright?"

"Are you both sure you are staying?" Elrond asks once more, just to be sure.

Now that Glorfindel's duty is done, he is to return to Valinor. Erestor, now his husband and mate meant that he too, will sail with his beloved. Yet, the couple has elected to remain in Middle Earth and Imladris for sometime yet.

"Someone has to watch over Elladan and Elrohir. As well as those who seek to sail in the coming years, who will need guidance as they pass through the Last Homely House. Celeborn alone would not be possible!" Glorfindel remarks lightly in jest.

"It would not be long." Erestor reassures.

A bell sounds, and Cirdan calls for those looking to sail to finally board the ship. In that moment, the reality of the situation finally sinks in for Elrond like a skipping pebble finally falling into the water.

He looks back at his friends, who returns with an encouraging nod and a wave.With a deep breath, Elrond steps forward and onwards.

As everyone boards, Elrond notices Galadriel turning pointedly towards Erestor without a word. Who simply gives a small nod in acknowledgement to the Lady while Glorfindel keeps a hand proudly on his mate's waist. Galadriel gives a cryptic nod in return, and turns to board the ship.

As the hobbits follow along with Olorin, Erestor suddenly strides up, calling for Bilbo. The old hobbit and his nephew turns back towards the feanorian in wonder. It is then, Elrond sees Erestor removing his treasured earring bearing the feanorian star, bending down and handing it carefully into Bilbo's thin hands.

"I do not know what good this may do, but I hope it will aid you in what you seek in some way."

"And... should anyone ask?"

Erestor and Bilbo share a long moment in silence, before the old hobbit grips onto the gift with a new found strength in his old hands with grateful acceptance. Olorin watches on, curious and full of mirth, but wisely chooses not interfere as they move on.

The anchors are pulled. The wind picks up and the gulls sing an ode to bid them farewell.

Farewell to Middle Earth! Farewell to everything and all! As the Eldar and the ringbearers leave behind all they have known and onwards into another realm, into another journey unknown. The breeze grows strong and the waves rushes, pushing them on and into the light-

"Elrond!"

The Peredhel turns back and sees Erestor running upon the docks, robes in hand and shouting towards the ocean with little care for his usual decorum. Glorfindel following close behind, waving brightly and so enthusiastically, almost like a maniac should one stumble upon the sight.

"Go! My kin! We will be just right behind!"

"The journey will be awhile! Do not miss us! It will not be long and you shall have company to keep you busy, dear Elrond!"

Elrond blinks back a tear at his silly friends and laughs.

---

---

---

There was only so much one can do out in the vast and endless sea in close quarters with many others. However, Elrond has found comfort watching the stars and his Adar sail across the night skies, wondering in the quiet of his mind.

When the shores of the West are finally sighted, many are excited, though for a break in endless voyage or beauty of it, Elrond could not be certain. As they all clamouring and crowding on the bow for a glimpse of the blessed realm.

Yet the unexpected always happen when one least expects it.

With a loud cry resounding into the air breaking the peace, everyone on the ship are soon startled out of their watchful gaze of the their eternal home. Elrond jumps up, sprinting to the bottom of the deck to the storage where lies its source. Where a pale Frodo stares incredulously at an open box.

Galadriel arrives as well and they share a questioning look, leaving Olorin to quickly tend to the startled hobbit on the floor of the ship. Bilbo slowly joins in, offering a pat of comfort to his kin, though the old adventurer seems oddly calm by the chaos. Sounds of movement from the opened box increase with intensity, each rustling and rattling growing louder much like Elrond's own heartbeat. There is no foulness or evil in the air, but age old instincts has them on edge all the same.

With careful steps, Elrond approaches the crate first with Galadriel following close behind.

Cautiously, they all peer inside.

After all these years and in endless joys and unending sorrow, the half elven finds finally feels that burden upon him lifting, a light of hope and his being healing at long last. With quiet tears and a sob of delight, Elrond is finally able to smile again, full and free, as he dives in to embrace the beginnings of healing as his heart soared.

"Atya!"

---

*Quenya: my beloved

A/N: I probably could have polished things more but at this point, I think I shall leave it as it is. A rather odd final part I think but I tried? Thank you all for taking the time to read and comment and reblog, you all made my day with each one!

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6)

[lephamquynhnhu]

Millennial Aegis

Chapter 3

Jing Yuan x Fem! reader

WARNINGS/ TAGS: Arranged marriage, the reader has a default name, OOC, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word count: ~2300

Summary: He is so stubborn to give up on you, and you are too hard-headed to reciprocate his affection. When do you both stop torturing each other?

Note: I don't know how you can find my fanfic, but I am genuinely grateful for your support. This will be a short series, and I have already had an ending for it.

However, the general refuses to sleep, his mind falling into spiral thoughts and wandering to the golden day you two first met. 

"I didn't expect that a businesswoman could perry those blows fluidly. They were all perfect movements." - Lord Jing Yuan brightly praised as he escorted you to the Stargazer Navalia's clinic. 

"Father taught me Jujutsu to protect myself in many dangerous circumstances, and a merchant must know some martial art when traveling alone." You replied with a small smile, yet melancholy vaguely clouded your eyes, which Jing Yuan quickly noticed. Your father was a strict and conservative man, so his decision was ultimate. Growing up with countless rules and rigid regulations was the factor of robotic demeanors but resourcefulness in your personality.

Throughout the escorting time, the general loved listening to your distant dreams and seeing your smile, even if you rarely did. Therefore, Jing Yuan cherished each second of staying by your side; and he felt the path shortened more than expected when the two of you reached your destination. Since that day, he could not get rid of your figure, his mind kept rewinding your smile as a broken record, and a nice glow bloomed over his chest as he thought about you. Jing Yuan supposed he headed over heel for you because of the dauntless action and your intellect. Jujutsu was an art of self-defense, but you also used it to taunt the enemy's attention and protect your partner valiantly. 

However, the general did not gain any contact information except your name, so it took him two months to investigate your identity. He knew it was his fault when taking you against your will, but he could not afford to lose his beloved again.

"I vow to my name. By all my intelligence and power, I will protect and adore you forever." - Lord Jing Yuan silently declares as he kisses your lock lovingly. 

You finally woke up and saw him sleeping soundly beside you. His strong arms are wrapped tightly around you. Your body feels relaxed from last night's activities. As soon as you see his face, a shiver runs down your spine as the last-night event flashes back. You quickly turn around and start criticizing yourself. 

" We...we had sex" - The heat is creeping up to your ears again when you recall the general's lustful face pounding into you mercilessly. As you intend to move out, he hugs your frame even tighter. 

"Stay by my side a little longer, will you?" - The general still closed his eyes and murmured in the morning voice. You feel yourself blush harder as turning to him and argue that you both overslept and he should be ready to attend at the Cloudfort. You secretly felt grateful for regaining your sanity and confidence to face him. 

His Highness slowly opens his eyes and softly caresses your cheek, a hint of playfulness dancing in his orbs.

"Don't worry about it. We both got tired after all those fun times yesterday."

Your eyes divert elsewhere except those amber pupils as you gently remove his hand and let go of him.

"Very well then, you can stay as you wish. I will freshen up first."

The moment you start walking, sudden aching shocks to the very core cause you to stumble on the floor. Lord Jing Yuan quickly catches you before you fall. He helps you stand up and holds you close to him, wrapping his arms around you protectively. A knowing concern washes over his face. You politely thank him when peeling your body off him again to take the cloak covering your naked body and carefully stride up to the bathroom. After you leave the room, he sits on the bed, looking at the ceiling. He sighs deeply, thinking about what happened yesterday. A smile appears on his lips as he thinks about how beautiful you were last night. 

As soon as at the private space, you quickly wear off the robe and inspect yourself in the mirror. Three hickeys scatter on your collarbones, several toothprints on your shoulder blade, and a handprint faintly bruise your hips.

You gave an exasperated sigh and internally lamented at the consequence of a passionate night. When you finish freshening up and leaving the bath, your room has been cleaned and decorated with fresh flowers. The general is waiting for you at the dining table with a light meal. He is back in the usual military uniform. His tail hair also dripped off the water, showing he just had a quick shower in the other bathroom. 

You both silently have breakfast together but are lost in thought. When ready to go off, Lord Jing Yuan places his hands on your shoulders and leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours.

"A Zhi, I...- Before he completes the sentence, you interrupted with a light curtsy which implied no farther advance - "I'll see you later, your Highness." 

He nods slowly and says nothing, then before going to the Cloudfort, he turns back to bind goodbye to you, smiling softly.

We then live our plain days for the next one hundred years. Lord Jing Yuan keeps managing the Xianzhou. As for me, I coordinate the domestic affairs in his estate, sometimes being his temporary advisor. Thanks to the peace, I spent most of my time in Lord Jing Yuan's study room reading books or assigned to supervise some vicinity in Xianzhou Loufu. Through a century, I orchestrated him into countless decoys, yet the general never fails into them, even one. The general also attempted to close our proximity but never fruitfulness because I cleverly avoided his affections all the time. As a result, those trials gradually died away as he recognized there was no way I felt in love with him. 

Before the wedding, I used to tell Lord Jing Yuan that it hurt when love someone who did not love him, and it turned into truth. I could sense the sorrow behind his long lashes whenever facing me, yet there was nothing I was eligible to do. We still sleep in the same bed but are always people of two different worlds, and he never lays a finger on me again since the first night. We both are too stubborn, so the price to pay is spirit torture to eternity.

"General, her Ladyship...stays at the Exalting Sanctum and refuses to return the estate." - Yan Qing is his Highness's disciple adopted last year - reports awkwardly.

Lord Jing Yuan quirks an eyebrow at the young boy, and a small smile appears on his lips since this must be one of your traps. He genuinely loves and spoils you rotten, but the obstinateness needs a truce. The general decides to pick you up himself and quickly dismisses Yan Qing. 

Before Jing Yuan arrived at the Exalting Sanctum, streetlights and flower-shaped lanterns lit gloriously across Xianzhou. The ship is even more vibrant than daylight. When rendezvous at the guest room, it seems you have been waiting for him as you read books and leisurely sipped tea. 

"Three rounds of gaming chess. If you win any of them, I will let go of you. Or else, you must stop being stubborn and return to the estate with me." - He exclaims while sitting parallel to you with his chin resting on his palm. 

You perceive that he eventually has lost all patience because of the annoyance in your behavior. The general has fallen into your long-term end when suggesting this treatment and his bargain chips. You expressionlessly observe Lord Jing Yuan's face while carefully calculating the next move. His frame indicates seriousness, yet there is indescribable confidence in the general's eyes. "It is an enormous gamble when playing in his specialty. However, the reward is too good to be true. What a dilemma." - You monologue and start weighing the elements. 

"I accept the challenge, but you must concede me the first five moves in every round because I am on the disadvantageous side as playing your specialty." - You lower your voice when modifying the conditions prudentially. This factor will accumulate your victory and secure your safe point. "I will adapt to the general's playing style in the first round, plan the counteracted strategy in the consecutive wave, and checkmate him in the last game."

As soon as Jing Yuan quickly accepts and hums in amusement at the condition, you think the victorious goddess blessed your side. However, there is a fatal factor that you forget. 

"Checkmate! A Zhi, you lost." - he calmly declares after winning three solid rounds.

[That he would rather die than let go of you.]

You look petrified at the chess with a hollow mind. 

"Absolutely defeated..."

You unconsciously clench your hand so tight that the knuckles become white as a sheet of paper, and your palm threatens to bleed with the pressure of nails. "Lord Jing Yuan's style of playing chess is utterly peculiar. I could not get him because it constantly changed and nullified my moves." 

You feel like you have gone berserk. Everything crumbles. The general of Xianzhou eliminated your strategy with detailed tactics and underwent an entire century in only one step. Suddenly, a warm hand thaws your icy one, which brings you back to reality as His Highness unravels your fingers. 

"You are hurting yourself." - he gently massages your hand with a concerned look.

"My apologies, Lord Jing Yuan. I am just..." - Before you finish the sentence, Jing Yuan quickly removes his cloak to wrap it around your figure. 

"It is getting chill outside, my dear. And don't worry. We can rematch any time you want with the same conditions."

You surprisingly inquire again as if you misheard him. The general pulls you into his embrace and confirms his answer as he pats your head lightly. A glee appears on his face because of two things. You did not push him away or evade his affection as usual, and he found a new hidden aspect of your personality. He never expects you to be that competitive. 

"Let us head home. Little Jin."

You keep your words to the contract but rematch with him restlessly for the next 50 years. The loss counts up to 2573 rounds and shows no stop sign. Finally, you are bored with the repeating duty and head toward the botanic garden to refresh your mind with the old hobby. 

The garden is enormously vast and sublimely tailored to look like the epitome of a pristine forest with emerald color. The dazzling sunlight of early Summer danced through the slit of leaves shining the pathway, and cicadas started their iconic song. You silently rejoice as soft breezes with a faint floral aroma gently caress your cheeks. You began playing a folk song with a bamboo flute, then all your favorite compositions. Birds also sing their melody along with your rhythm. A sudden clap resonates behind your back when completing. You turn around and see Lord Jing Yuan looking at you, grinning happily. 

"Pardon me for my rudeness, your Highness. I didn't notice you were here." You quickly greet him with a small smile. A nightingale flies down to sit at his point finger, then mischievously jumps on his shoulder. The general watches the bird hopping up and down on his shoulder before looking at you.

"It's okay. Don't worry about it." - Jing Yuan's voice sounds gentle and soothing - "So, you are the musical master of Yan Qing? I saw a flute dangling at his side last week, yet I forgot to ask him."

You hum shortly as an answer to his rhetoric question and change the topic. After several dialogues, you learn that Jing Yuan usually stays in the garden to play chess with himself and accidentally hears you playing music. As your spirit is in a high mood, you suggest performing his requested songs. Time seems to flow slower to the general in this ardent Summer, and he feels this peaceful sentiment has not appeared for ages. There is always an invisible gigantic wall between you and him, but now, it is like a rendezvous of two soulmates after a century. Even if this short-lived moment is an ephemeral dream, Jing Yuan graciously treasures each second passing. As long as you stay by his side, nothing matters now.  

When fulfilling the performance, the general maneuvers his hands, and you are astonished by a hairpin in his palm. 

"I never expected my Lord can be a magician." - A light chuckle escapes your lips as you look at the ornament. It is an exquisitely carved camellia with ivory raindrops. The flower petal is as red as his hair tie, and the pistil shares the same color as Jing Yuan's eyes. 

"I intended to gift the bespoken hairpin to you this evening. But my lady is here now, so the wait is needless." - he gently pins it on your hair and smiles brightly as compliments you.

A bittersweet suddenly tastes on your tongue as you subconsciously touch the carved flower. It is sweet because no matter how many times you gave him your cold shoulder, Lord Jing Yuan's adoration for you never changes. It is bitter because you feel guilty, unable to reciprocate his love. The two of you were then immersed in gaming chess at the wood pavilion in the garden until sunset. They were no longer rematches because you wanted to play mere chess with him, and you could practically see the jubilant sparkling in his eyes all day. However, the happier he is, the more sinful you feel. At night, when you both settle in bed, you ask him why you cannot win even a single time, or at least let you win a round since they were not re-challenges. 

"Because losing to you means losing my lady forever." - There is clever wordplay in his answer as the general crosses his arms and stares at the ceiling. Although he hints at humor, you know that Jing Yuan is deadly serious and still clings to a sliver of hope of winning your heart. 

 "Hah...General is always stubborn, after all..." - You internally laugh, but it is humorless. 

[heartfullofleeches]

X

Yandere Grim Reaper [He/They] + Cursed Reader [G.N] Blurb

Summary: A Reaper mourns the lost of their beloved and pays them a visit

Warning: Character Death (sorta)

A matchstick strikes against the wall of a gravestone-

Kindling a candle burrowed in the grey sand devouring the stone. Bold letters engrave the same name nine time over on different slabs; the dates below just a year apart. The same headline marks each grave, luminated by ice blue as the remaining wicks are ignited.

Fighter. Friend. Lover.

No matter the age, the last word is always crooked. Disturbing the dead is the one sin in their heart. The hands that write can never make it truth through words alone. They promised their beloved they would no longer cry for them, but the flood of emotion drags the once heartless being underneath; their striking blue tears the only ounce of color in the monochromatic land.

Time does not move for them. It hides within glass and leaps from period to period, no comfort to be found in between. The reaper clasps their hands in prayer, offering its meaningless script in thanks to the cruel hands of fate for allowing their love to walk the earth another year. Their laughs remake them. Their tears destroy. Its a cycle they'd never tire of- till that dream came home.

"They're dead."

The sand figurines by the reaper's knees crumple into ash.

"Will you do your job this time?"

"They have one life left."

The stagnant air grows denser. "They should not have had more than one to begin with. The hand they were dealt is unfair, but the same goes for all mortals. Your foolishness and naivety are your only shields else you would be erased by now."

The reaper continues their prayer. The graves rattle in their plots, falling still when no reaction is given.

"Fine. Go to your mortal. It is clear you plan to make them one of us so balance with be restored once they perish for good."

Once again the reaper is left alone. They're always alone. Alone, alone, alone - but not for long.

-

Your right leg hangs out the window as you perch upon its sill. The height from here would kill you if you landed properly, but you've already had your death for the year and the morgue was so stuffy. Good thing you died in a pair of presentable pajamas, shame about your gloves though. Your body was in peak condition, so explaining the see through fingers would be pretty hard.

"Y/n..."

The lights flicker. An indigo glow rolls from the smoke cloud billowing from the empty cabinet in your little corner of the wall. Your heart rams against your ribcage as the smog blackens from the shadows and maneuver up an invisible frame to form robes wrapped around a skeletal body. Fear is the least possible aggressor for your increased heartbeat; the organ fluctuating along with the pulsing blue orb in the being's exposed ribcage. It steadies as the reaper joins your side, and takes your hand.

You collect yourself, clutching your shirt as you squeeze their hand for support. "Hey, Mad. Still get excited when you see me?"

"I'm sorry..."

"It's alright. It's the one thing I've gotten used to over the years, minus the mini heart attack."

Maddox picks their eyes off the floor and looks at your hands. Every digit is transparent except for your index finger. The first one to touch them when they first came to you.

"Did it... hurt?"

You shake your head. "No... It was a fire this time. They managed to put it out before it got to my door, but the smoke already reached me. I died in my sleep."

Maddox looks back to the ground. You stand up and onto your toes to make them face you.

"It's alright. Better than getting hit by a bus or falling down some stairs. I have the worse luck don't I?"

Luck is one way to put it. For crimes against humanity your ancestors were punished thousands of years after their own deaths. Every second child in your family was cursed to die on the birthday when life truly began for them. This decade was your turn, and your time came nearly ten years ago. You would've died that day, had the only one who ever cried for you not come to aid.

"I had a great birthday though. Cake, and I even made it twelve hours before I died. I wouldn't have made it nearly as long if it weren't for you. This is the last year, right? Once I die again, you'll take your heart back - and I come with you?"

For once, Maddox is thankful for their lack of facial features. "Yes."

"Hm. That sucks- but since I've taken good care of your heart, I know that whatever I'll be in good hands. Can you stay with me? At least for breakfast? I'm starving."

Maddox nods, hood masking his face. It still smells like ash, but it works well to hide their leaking eyes; shame dripping down their bones for the sins they have committed. The lives they've taken when they could've enjoyed the time you had, just to get you home sooner.

[starsh0cked]

okay so. two things!! first of all, over the course of january (and the beginning of february) i participated in the kirby oc secret santa, which was wonderfully hosted by @/moonverc3x. i was lucky enough to be the santa for @/starflungwaddledee, and ended up with two of my best pieces so far!!

these were CHALLENGING, though. which is where the second thing comes in!! under the cut, i'll be going over some of the sketches, drafts and phases of either piece! there's also a speedpaint. exciting!!

i'll be starting with my starstruck piece! the theme here was wanderlust - literally one of the most whimsical words i know - and generally anything to do with the stars. i had a few things in mind, but considering how long it sometimes takes to make artwork, i decided to roll with what inspired me the most.

this is the final sketch compared to the final artwork. certainly one of the crazier transformations i've done. i had a mental image of most parts of the artwork, from the material of starstruck's bow to the lighting cast by the stars. everything except for the grass (i hate grass!!) i ended up rendering the grass and background first, anyway.

doing the background before the rest of the artwork helps define the lighting and shadows! if i decided to draw starstruck before the background, i'd have to draw it according to the lighting.

weird explanation, but in summary: background before character helps the character look like a part of the environment! character before background means extra steps need to be taken before the character fits in the environment!

starstruck's bow was also a decent challenge! i'm a fan of bows and satin, so a satin bow sounded like a good idea. it was, but i've never drawn satin before. the workaround was an active satin study! i stared at a satin bow i found on pinterest and tried to understand how light spread over the material. it's quite interesting!!

you might notice that i flipped the direction of the shooting stars. this is for composition reasons!! i wanted to make starstruck the obvious focus, and while the contrast between her warmer palette and the background's cooler palette easily achieve that, i wanted to cement it. i also added little hand drawn sparklies everywhere. because i like it.

of course, i have to talk about the eyes!! if anything, i noticed that in all of starflung's drawings of starstruck, she had really glittery eyes. literally adorable. so i made it my mission to capture her feelings in her eyes!! i had a lot of fun making them super shiny and adding little stars in there. i also needed to pay attention to the subtle gradient, though - they fade from blue to pink if you zoom into starflung's artworks - and decided to keep it vibrant.

okay. thats all for this one!! i'd like to mention that in the original sketch for this specific pose, bandee was in the background. i really regret scrapping that now. oh, well!

time for morpho dee! i'll be starting for with the speedpaint for this one, mainly because it sort of explains some of the process by itself.

i restarted the shading... three or four times at least? so yeah. i was losing it on this piece. i'll be completely honest, i contemplated dropping it for the sake of meeting the deadline. it wasn't stressing me out, but i had studies to worry about too, and i was worried that it wouldn't be of great quality? but after some advice from my beloved older sister, i managed to turn the tide!!

this is a first for me, but everything here was a challenge. if you scroll through my account and the few artworks i've posted, you'll notice that i draw gijinkas far more than orbs. now, you may be wondering why this didn't pose so much of an issue for my starstruck piece! it's mainly because i chose a far simpler pose for her than i did for morpho over here.

for morpho, the artwork needed to be dramatic. i draw cutesy things - while i've always wanted to draw something dramatic, i've never pushed myself to do it. until this artwork! i went for a dynamic pose which would (hopefully) pull the viewer's eye towards morpho dee. that's what's up with the foreshortned spear! i also realised that the plcement of his feet would be quite significant to the artwork. you might not know this, but feet are my greatest enemy. i'm still trying to figure out how best to draw them for people or orbs, but i'm getting there.

after 'lineart' (which really ended up being a cleaned sketch - this was supposed to be linelessly rendered, but i gave up on that) the pose was no longer a problem. because the shading was! hooray!!

nothing has quite bewildered me like metal shading has. i've shaded gold. satin. cotton, fluffy scarves, shiny things, grass. yet metal shading continues to elude me! this was, hands down, the most difficult part of this artwork. i struggled to make sense of how the lighting was supposed to work, even with references. and every time i thought it made sense, i ended up with something i didn't like the look of. the solution? long breaks, more references and pinterest tutorials. i have no clue how i managed this, but we got here anyways. i finished it off by colouring the lineart according to the shading.

i have experience with drawing fire, at least! it was three or four years ago in an old artwork, but i have experience! i simply had to figure out how to work it into the atmosphere. for the glow, i duplicated the layer, gaussian blurred it and used a slight glow layer! i did something similar for the durst particles, but i used motion blur instead.

i also want to talk about the spear a little bit. you might notice that i added a bit of ambient glow around the blue gem. that was with the light intensity in mind, but also for a sense of realism! i also had to keep the pink light in mind, though. so i ended up using an airbrush to create a base for the lighting and i continued from there. i added a few scratches on the handle just to give it a bit more life, too.

and, finally, a one-to-one comparison between the sketch and the final! i have literally no idea how i pulled either of these pieces off, but i'm quite proud of them.

i recommend you drop by @/kirbyoc-secretsanta for other artworks! a total of 75 artists participated, so there are plenty of super cool ocs to adore over there and new artists to find!! this was my first secret santa experience, and @/moonverc3x made an amazing host (thank you for hosting, by the way!!) bye bye!!

[windor-truffle]

pokemans :) long ramble abt the symbolism behind the pokemon choice below the cut:

Asbel was actually a hard choice for me, his shonen-protag knight-wannabe basic bitch vibes are a little hard to pin down. I wanted to give him a normal type but also possibly a shiny one to represent how Asbel is simultaneously incredibly average (aside from the title he inherited and the powers Sophie gave him) and rather unique (personality-wise, people are drawn to his kindness and inner strength). In the end I picked Furret of the Walking Meme fame for a whooooole buncha reasons:

Firstly, though my pastel palette washes it down, shiny Furret is actually white and magenta instead of its usual brown and tan. It's actually kinda close to Asbel's ambiguous hair color and the white matches his cloak! Hooray for color coordination :)

Furret is the evolved form of Sentret, an early route normal type. Sentret is the scout pokemon and according to its dex entries it lives in groups and keeps watch over the others, akin to groundhogs or meerkats. In other words, it Proteccs(TM) (actually it only learns Protect via TM, like almost every other pokemon).

Strengthwise, Furret is... not good 😅 it suffers the gen II curse of having an abysmally low base stat total even for a fully evolved mon, with its best stat being speed followed by attack. Furret often serves as a utility or support mon instead, doing better in doubles where it can aid its partner with moves like Helping Hand (an Asbel move if I've ever seen one) and Follow Me (become a damage magnet for a round, a rather Asbel tactic). It can also run Trick, Sucker Punch, Knockoff, U-Turn, and Brick Break for more competitive settings, and its Frisk ability can scope out an opponent's held item in settings where that isn't given information. In gen IX it just recently got access to the previously exclusive hazard-removal/setup move Tidy Up (Asbel loves cleaning 😂) which could help Furret a little by boosting its attack and speed, either making its STAB(same type attack bonus) normal moves like Body Slam or Last Resort hit harder or possibly being Baton Passed onto another party member waiting in the back.

Furret has access to a shocking versatile movepool--- it can learn coverage moves for 13/18 types!--- but unfortunately lacks the stats to use them well, which lends to it being overlooked. In-game it can learn HM moves like Strength, Surf, Whirlpool, Cut, and Rock Smash, so it sometimes earns a temporary spot on the team as an HM mule 😅 (but that means it's HELPFUL! It can help its beloved partner navigate a difficult environment!) It can also set up rain or sun, it can Rest and Sleep Talk, it can run a Focus Sash Endeavor gambit, it can Toxic Orb Trick STABFacade. There's SO much Furret can do, the opponent will never know what to expect!! ...except an easy victory, because its stats are just terrible 😔

And that leads me to my final point of similarity, one that readers may have already noticed: Asbel and Furret are both SO underrated and I will defend them with my life 😤 The complaints and critiques against them are often valid, especially when compared to their counterparts like more nuanced protagonists or normal types with a BST above 415, but dammit that's my special little guy, can't you see his potential???? 😭 He means so much to me and he could mean so much to you if you could look past the initial scathing judgments of "this is silly, shallow, and not worth my time."

In conclusion, I love my pathetic little magenta guys 💜💜💜

[traaansfem]

Omg i don't think I've shown you ceru!!!!

Here is Ceru the Blåhaj next to Gator!!!!!

My beloved plushies (i used to have a waaaaay bigger collection but i got rid of them in a fit due to it being called childish °P, so i have like, Ceru, Gator, and like 10 more i think idk)

Ohh, the critters ... Precious!!!!!!!!!

I have all mine in storage somewhere. Except for the torso sized penguin. Who is so orb and pillow shaped and good to cuddle that I keep him on my bed.

Tragedy that so many of yours were lost...

Here's hoping for many more silly critters of various forms in your future!!

[desultory-novice]

heya dess!

about ten million years ago i sent you an elaborate ramble about galacta knight's moral status. this isn't calling you out for not answering (i literally sent you a wall of text) and my opinions have since changed anyway, but i remembered this recently and got morbidly curious about your own take on gk's moral status. dw though... if you don't want to answer this one either, that's ok!

I pride myself on liking every Kirby character. That said, I never loved Galacta Knight. Curse of the over-hyped character? He was too cool. Too beloved. "When's Galacta going to become canon??"

And, just to be petty/salty for a moment, that he had no concrete persona except "See something; kill it" but has been frequently (?) made into the softiest, gentlest woobie amongst the cast next to Kirby (also his existence influenced a lot about Kirby's portrayal in the fandom, ie: "When's he gonna get HIS wings???", and he and Meta together became the template for what everyone's Knight-sonas would look like, meaning that being a cool orb in armor became more commonplace than rare) just caused me to get bored with him real quick, I think? </SALT>

COUGH!

...But I did some looking back at Galacta for this ask and... I can see the charm! I still don't see the "wooby" part (Which I assume has something to do with the "wrongly framed" theory) but I'm growing to respect Galacta as a character of interest. With that out of the way, let's tackle some of the things you brought up in your old ask as well as my own feelings on where the Aeon Hero sits as "a hero!"

...

It's all very interesting, isn't it? One thing that stood out to me, doing some research on this matter for this ask is that Hyness's speech implies (at least, it implied to me) that one of Galacta's other great deeds alongside helping seal Void was defeating Nightmare.

("Nightmare of a Galactic Crisis" just seems too potently worded for me to believe otherwise. The Japanese even matches up.)

But if Galacta defeated Nightmare... what the HELL was Parallel Nightmare thinking by summoning him to fight on his behalf?! (Ignore the fact that Galacta immediately destroys him. The key is that Nightmare either thought he could control the Aeon Hero or that the Aeon hero would share his goals. Which is FASCINATING~!)

I can't help but think that Galacta's story has some serious twists...

There's another thing, that may be referring back to the "destroy a planet or two" thing and that's Galacta's sealing. He's sealed in crystal and of course some people have made the connection between Galacta's crystal cage and the fairies of Ripple Star. (Usually with the queen of the fairies having a MUCH bigger role than anticipated.)

But like, there's a thing I just realized was in his Planet Robobot flavor text that isn't in the English version. (I know it's a matter of the pause screen text not having enough room for the twice-as-long English but why's it always gotta be Planet Robobot XD )

"Records remain of his being sealed in many different eras."

One could argue that it's all the same sealing but why would multiple different eras need to record the same guy getting sealed if he were only sealed away ONCE. So, that's interesting. Galacta's seal was never permanent.(1) In fact, it seems to be frequently un-permanent. So they have room to cause villainous havoc between freeings.

(For a borb who looks like an angel, he's doing a really good job acting like your classic "Sealed for 100 years but never destroyed 'Demon King.'" I guess that's what makes him and Meta Knight such interesting compliments. The noble devil and the demonic angel? Well, we still haven't decided if Galacta's demonic yet.)

And speaking of the strength of Galacta's seal, I found a weird little detail looking up his fight in RtDL DX. (I had to watch a recording because I spent my whole fight with him screaming in terror and spamming guard because I had exactly one HP left and didn't want to die before reaching Magolor Soul. Thank you, Sand ability!)

In RtDL, the Crystal descends and Galacta slowly opens one eye and then the other. But this changed for DX! Galacta descends with both eyes open. Which shouts consciousness to me.

...I'm rambling away from the topic of whether Galacta is a hero or not. Don't mind me. I'll try to pivot back in good time.

Actually, let's pivot back a little now, because in USDX, he's not summoned from his crystal state, he's just summoned. Which makes sense because like... going entirely by the cutscene, it looks like Galactic Nova actually transports Galacta through time to fight Meta Knight. Like, Galacta in the middle of their villain phase!

We do see Galacta sealed in crystal immediately after this image is shown, but the Nova doesn't bring the sealed Galacta before Meta Knight. Star Dream does. I wonder if that's a difference in power between the two clockwork stars? But I think this "where Galacta was snatched from" is probably the real reason Gala utterly demolishes Star Dream but doesn't attack Galactic Nova. The Gala that Star Dream summons has already been sealed/betrayed/etc.

They don't trust anyone. The Gala that Nova summons is at the height of their "feared across the galaxy" phase but has not yet been captured or has reason to fear capture/re-capture.

...And then you have the Galacta that Morpho Knight absorbs. What's funny about that Gala, and kind of tragic, is that Gala seems to be the calmest of the three. I say this because they actually pause when Morpho comes near. They even look...cutely (!) confused.

So, did Hyness summon a Galacta that was even earlier in his timeline than the one Nova summoned? Which was earlier in his timeline than the one Star Dream summoned?

Although where in Gala's timeline is RtDL?? Galacta appears before us in crystal, is then released, and actually FLIES OFF after defeat without being resealed. Is this the Galacta that "destroys a planet or two?" The opening of the RtDL rift after the crystal prison reforms suggests that it was the Planet Robobot Galacta that would go on to appear in RtDL, who then flies off and... maybe it's that Galacta that appears in Star Allies, to meet his end at Morpho's hands...

By the way, I totally forgot that Morpho does the "friend heart"/"friend move" thing to Galacta before absorbing him! (Dess is beginning to think that maybe the reason I didn't have strong feelings for Galacta Knight is because I just never stopped to pay attention to all the little things that make them interesting!)

So Gala has an interesting timeline and we can see that their level of aggression really depends on where in the timeline you find them. I don't think they were a planet destroying monster when they were first sealed. At least, their most "murderous" incarnation (Robobot) is implied to have gone through some ~stuff~ even AFTER the sealing.

But the fact that (Parallel) Nightmare considers them a potential ally suggests that they were...hmm, "problematic" to certain people toward the tail end of their "Aeon Hero" phase. Those people probably being the Ancients.

La la la~ I smell a cover-up~ la la la~

And so, we're back to the "Galacta was framed?!" theory. To be honest, I don't know what was up with the image Galactic Nova shows us above of Gala in the smoking wreckage but it's important to note that we don't see WHAT it is that Galacta has destroyed.

And while the Magolor epilogue implies Halcandra was destroyed in a great meteoric firestorm of some kind, I would just like to note that Halcandra at that point would have also been potentially ruled (?) by a monarch who quite possibly wore The Master Crown. An object that has been as much as stated to have been poisoning/poisoned by the previous bearers so, yeah. I don't think Halcandra would have been in a good place, if a crown-bearer sat on the throne.

(And wouldn't killing a king and destroying their country/planet be considered something worthy of taking Galacta's title of "hero" away from them and labelling them a galactic level threat?)

So, yes. I think Galacta's "moral" status depends on where in the timeline you are. I don't think they were ever "evil" but I think they probably a dangerous sort of "good-hearted extremist" era in the past and in their later years, that devolved into an aggressive and paranoid "As far as I'm concerned EVERYONE is an enemy and you'd better believe I'm not letting them strike the first blow!"

There's some Gala thoughts to chew on!

Happy Birthday, Galacta Knight!

--

(1) Honestly, I wonder if the crystal thing is less of a "seal" and more of a curse? :Dess's mind hears "fairy curse" and starts vibrating: It could be something that affects them intermittently? We've seen Galacta be "destroyed" in USDX (amusingly, their wings "pop" off. Although that is the only time that happens so could be retconned) Anyway, it's not their destruction that causes the seal. Sometimes they just fly off after defeat too! (To destroy more planets??)

This implies there's another trigger for when they become crystal...

But speaking of the "crystal," RtDL DX in Japanese specifically mentions that their seal is actually made of "gem" - the same "gem" used in "Gem Apples." Which going by the Magolor Epilogue, gem apples appear to represent either a) magic power b) the soul or c) the Master Crown. I don't think it's made clear which exactly, because all three are kind of muddled together in Magolor's case. But the fact that there ARE those connections with "gems" + Galacta's "gem" seal activating intermittently is all just VERY interesting to me.

Now go and speculate away, my pretties~!

[spacemonkeysalsa]

I got so very baited recently, because I am naïve in the ways of internet trolls. Lmao and all that, but I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that a lot of people really do seem to genuinely believe that God Gale is a good ending, and then I wrote 2300 words about the three reasons it makes me super sad actually. Writing is a compulsive activity for me, I kinda felt like I had to or I wouldn't be able to think about anything else, or sleep.

My bait would be that I do consider ascending Gale to godhood a worse outcome for Gale than ascending Astarion is for Astarion, not because Ascended Astarion is at all okay, but because Astarion has zero good options in the first place. Gale has a whole range, so going with one of his bad endings feels extra tragic to me because there was potential for him to be as alright as possible for any mfer in Toril, whereas everything with the poor vampire is kind of a negotiation of different scenarios of complication and misery.

Anyway, below this cut is 2300 words of me feeling heavy about God Gale.

God Gale is a Bad Ending (in this essay I blah blah blah)

Three umbrella sads (meaning big reasons containing lots of little reasons)

First) DnD gods are all terrible, and Gale will not be an exception:

The themes of power and authority explored in Baldur’s Gate 3 all have fairly similar messaging. To be reductive: power corrupts and those who seek authority over others inevitably abuse them. This is introduced on both high and lower levels within the story, and on the high side of things, it’s with the gods themselves. The writers chose to include Mystra, a pretty universally beloved goddess who is considered “good” by the majority of DnD players. Mystra is then depicted as someone who grooms and callously discards her chosen. We also learn that she seeks some of them out when they are very young, but that's not a requirement for grooming. The power imbalance between any mortal seeking favor and the literal goddess that they worship is great enough that any close relationship would be inherently difficult to navigate. And from what we see Mystra has grown disconnected from the mortal experience, to a pretty alarming degree, in spite of once being mortal herself and keeping many mortal chosen close. She is not handling this relationship well, and is leveraging the power imbalance rather than trying to mitigate its negative qualities. The significance of this might be somewhat lost on people who are new to Toril and the gods of this world, but a lot of veteran DnD players actually found this to be kinda scandalous/”wildly out of character for Mystra” and they completely missed the point that Larian did this on purpose. It’s a very intentional way of making sure you understand, trust no bitch. (in this scenario gods are the bitches)

I don’t really think there’s much of an argument that Mystra did alright by Gale—but people do try to make it. I’m ignoring them for now. Resting on the assumption that we recognize that what Mystra did to Gale (both prior to the events of the game, and within the game’s narrative) was 100% not ok, I think it’s important to remember that there are endings in which Gale goes to Elysium with Mystra, has the orb removed, is even restored back to his original body from being a mindflayer ect. By all appearances, Gale seems pretty happy with this when it happens. But knowing what we know, he shouldn’t be. He deserves better. I actually love this—I mean, it’s awful and upsetting, but it’s perfectly tragic and appropriate for Gale. He’s not above delusion and weakness and mortal failings. He can become a god, and I actually don’t think I need to make much of an argument for why I don’t believe he would be an exception, because there is no exception, to this particular rule. Even Withers, by and large depicted as helpful, is aloof and ultimately responsible for the Dead Three being such menaces in the first place.

But, I’ll make the argument that Gale can’t be an exception anyway. Or, I’ll let Gale make it for me, by just saying that if you let him ascend to godhood and then talk to him about it at the epilogue party, it’s already pretty clear that he’s not an exception at all. He’s making excuses, he’s disconnected, he’s neglectful and unfeeling. I actually think it’s clearer to see when you aren’t in a relationship with him than when you are, which also feels right. His prior experience with serious relationships was with a goddess who made him her chosen so there’s probably some sense of romance to making his partner feel singled out that he might not even realize he’s performing. To the rest of the world he might be just another god with a domain that can be used for good or ill and who doesn’t concern himself with mortal suffering, but you know “the real him” and you know he’s good to you and that’s all you need to know.

Second) He knows now that he wasn’t enough as he was:

Gale’s desire for power seems like it’s something he’s innately had for a long time, but so is his sweetness and his ability to come down hard on himself for his failings. This is really nicely encapsulated in the letter that you get from Elminster at the epilogue party when he ascends, in which Elminster expresses his regrets over the part he played in Gale’s fate. (I’m just going to glide right past the fact that Elminster, Tara and implicitly Gale’s mother all think his ascension is bad, I do think that’s evidence, but I want to focus on my reasons, not theirs). To sum up, the letter describes Elimnster’s first encounter with Gale, featuring the eight year old wizard accidentally destroying flowers with Fireball and being very upset about it. To do a quick and dirty analysis of the coding here:

Flowers = good and beautiful things (also, the natural world and by extension the mortals in it)

Crying = Gale’s better nature showing through (empathy, something gods repeatedly suck at)

Fireball = power/harm he’s capable of, and power and harm are equivalent (supernatural/godly power and its destructive force against mortals)

That better nature is what we’re always trying to get at with Gale, and they make it pretty difficult because he’s the platonic ideal of a true neutral. And a) alignment in DnD can be difficult to understand, plenty of good characters do horribly immoral things without their alignment shifting, because what constitutes evil is relative to their “chaos—-lawful” positioning and b) I think people who believe Gale to be good aligned need to commit to an evil playthrough of Baldur’s Gate 3, keep him in the party, keep him close, and talk to him often, because he is so frighteningly good at making excuses for you as you play the role of an edgelord anime monster. He’s desperate and way more comfortable with all this than you might think, because he’s in the trenches now. When I killed Isobel in my embraced durge run, I would rate Gale’s reaction to that as being slightly less upset than Astarion and Minthara. Everyone hates it though, no one is ok with you killing Isobel, most of them straight up tell you’re a fucking idiot for doing it. Gale’s a bit less harsh. He’s “not sure” it was a good idea.

This isn’t related, but I just realize I REALLY want to hear Gale call me an idiot, is that anywhere in the game? Can someone tell me? Oh god, has this awakened something in me? Anyway, his better nature is someone who is both confident and capable, but no longer reaching for the next horizon, and the next one after that, no longer under the impression that he needs to obtain something unobtainable to be considered worthy of love. He’s still connected to the beauty of mortal experience, and still empathetic. He can cherish what he has and who he is, rather than serving ambition over all. The ending where he becomes a god is validation of his beliefs that he is inadequate as he is. You can fanfic a future in which the opportunity to prove otherwise arises (I did) but that’s where the game leaves you with him. There is no more. The Fireball and the power it demonstrated was more important than the flowers.

Three) He is not making you his equal, he’s the god of ambition and you are a mortal consort just like he was to Mystra:

This is probably going to be the “I was with you until” part. Sorry, it involves DnD lore.

I appreciate that most people simply will not be open to the idea that they misinterpreted what happens with Gale at the end of the game if you romance him, ascend him, and then go with him to Elysium. The “I know what I saw” of it all is really hard to overcome, but: 

I don’t actually feel like writing up an eh “academic” explanation of this again and I can’t find the email where I ranted about it to someone in private, so here’s an excerpt from my Wyll/Gale fic (it’s not posted yet, it’s going to be long and I’m editing) where I included the idea in a way that I hope is more entertaining than if I just wrote out an explanation of how DnD gods are made. Please don’t be too weirded out by the fact that it’s a conversation between Minthara and Wyll and that Wyll is in disguise but Minthara knows it’s him, and is implied to have gone to hell with her girlfriend Karlach, I promise all that makes sense in context:

~

“I must admit, I was surprised to learn that when Gale offered to bring you with him to Elysium, you refused him.”

“Who’ve you been talking to?” Wyll had confided in precious few people about that, and Minthara certainly wasn’t one of them, but then he realized the question was foolish. Karlach had been there for him right after, when his heart was broken. No one knew that feeling better than she did.

“Who else?” Minthara challenged, she had a peculiar look on her face and seemed eager to look away quickly. Then he remembered, she probably found the glamour off-putting.

“The two of you really care deeply for each other.” Wyll remarked.

“She cares for me in spite of her better judgment, in spite of her very nature, it seems at times,” Minthara mused, “I will conquer every layer of hell for her, as that is what is required.” Her eyes traveled pointedly over the collection of tents around them. A mere fraction of her company, but a formidable group of handpicked soldiers.

“Is that what this is all about? Gathering an army?” It wasn’t a bad use of the Eltan’s funds either. Wyll hadn’t expected to approve of Minthara’s mercenary endeavors, but here they were.

“It will take a lot more than soldiers—even very disciplined ones—to defeat archdevil legions. But, it is a start. One certainly cannot expect to raze the hells without soldiers.” Minthara took a long drag on her pipe, red eyes alight with the glow of the fire. “But, we were talking about you,” she gave him one of her accusing smiles. “You just and righteous types do so love to hide the subtle manipulation of changing the subject under the guise of genuine interest in others.”

“I am genuinely interested,” Wyll felt the burn of a blush. The drow was half right, after all. “I don’t know if there’s hope for the hells to ever be more than pure despair, but any improvements would have to come by way of a regime change. I wish you both every good fortune in your efforts.” He cleared his throat, “but fine. What did you want to know about it?”

“I believe I already know why you refused Gale. I would like validation, or a correction, if I’m wrong. But I rarely am.”

Wyll’s guts twisted a little. It wasn’t comfortable to imagine Minthara thinking about his ill-fated romance with the god of ambition, let alone having theories about why it had gone so poorly in the end. “Go on then. Out with it.” He steeled himself for what he imagined would be nothing less than agonizing insight into one of his most painful memories.

“You knew he was lying,” said Minthara simply.

Wyll released the breath he’d been holding and began to nod along as she continued.

“To become a god, one needs, at a minimum, extraordinary power, domain and worship. Sponsorship from another god doesn’t hurt, but if the gods were allowed to simply ascend anyone they lay with, the heavens would be chaos. Ao would never make such an exception.” Minthara smacked her pipe against her hand, loosening the remaining contents and letting the dust fall into the fire with a flare.

“My reasoning was more complex and nuanced than that,” Wyll said quietly, “but you are not wrong. I like to think that such a blatant deception would be above Gale, but I cannot say that I would put it past him to perhaps… put more stock into my ambitions than he should. I think if I’d gone with him, we would have had a few blissful days of happy reunion, and then it would be time to plan the process of my true ascension. I would have to approach it with a detailed mapping of how to acquire what I needed and ascend on my own merits. It would have been a pursuit for something I did not want, that would have likely failed, and cost me the remainder of my life. Everything else I held dear, everything I had worked towards, I would have to abandon. I loved Gale, but to ask that of me—I saw in that moment that he was too blinded by his own desires to understand the sacrifice he demanded, and the impossible expectations he was putting on me. On both of us, if I’m honest.” And he hated to even think about the alternative possibility, but if he was ever going to allow himself enough cynicism to voice it outloud, it might as well be in the presence of the exile Minthara. “Or. There’s always the possibility that he’d actually grown arrogant enough to think he could defy Ao and just… get away with it. In which case, he would have condemned us both to a fate of going to war with the gods and dying ignominiously. For what? I don’t want to be a god, and I never needed him to be one either. He was the one who decided it was a prerequisite to our just… being together.”

“To your first set of excuses, I would say you are being too generous,” Minthara narrowed her gaze at him and took a deep breath before she said, “but to your second, darker accusations, I think you are being too harsh. Gale may be arrogant, but he is also highly intelligent. Intentionally defying Ao would be very stupid indeed.”

“Not like defying devils.”

“Not at all,” Minthara grinned wickedly. “Devils live to be defied. That’s why they’re all so tolerant of coups in the hells. But the denizens of the heavens demand obedience, loyalty, deference, and they are not forgiving of defiance.”

Wyll found he felt better. Just having said all that outloud had made the tension between his shoulders loosen. For all her blatant tolerance of every evil, Minthara’s particular brand of judgment certainly left one feeling anything but judged. 

“Karlach was worried for you. As she would be. She saw your pain and wanted to make it better for you. But I was…. Proud of you. For whatever that’s worth. The choice was between pain, or lies. You would not live in a delusion, though it may have been very pleasant for a while.”

~

Yeah, basically that. You can argue he might be encouraging you to become his equal, but it could just as easily be framed as him requiring you to become such, in order to be worthy of being with him, and at no small personal cost.