#EVEN THE SHRINE OF LIFE???? THE FUCK HAPPENED TO IT

[tyrantisterror]

Wife Goals: Harley Quinn

Welcome back, fuckers. It's February, I'm in a bad way, let's talk about the unstable fictional women that I pine for, because fuck you that's why. Last time on this prolonged emotional breakdown, I talked about Ryoko Hakubi, the ancient demon space pirate from the Tenchi Muyo franchise. Today, I'll talk about someone I think we all knew would come up sooner or later - I have a whole shrine to her for fuck's sake.

Funny story - I didn't actually watch Batman: The Animated Series as a kid, despite being a child of the 90's. It, Power Rangers, and Gargoyles were the big 90's shows I just sorta bailed on (and I guess TMNT? I think of that more as an 80's show, personally, but I've seen some people lump it into 90's nostalgia too, so...). I just wasn't much of a superhero fan when I was a kid - superheroes were buff athletic masculine guys, like the bullies that picked on me, and they beat up weird-looking dudes who were obsessed with, like, monsters and spiders and shit, which I related to a lot more, so it just wasn't my scene as a kid. I had Godzilla for my hero-worship anyway, and it's hard to compete with Godzilla for my heart.

I did watch Batman Beyond, though, because it came on after Digimon and what else would I do with my Saturday morning?

Anyway, I don't think I actually saw much if any at all of BTAS until my teens. Pop culture being what it was, I was still loosely aware of Batman and his gallery of rogues, so I knew of Harley Quinn by that point, but I didn't have any particular fondness for the character yet, and even after watching some episodes she wouldn't become important to me until, like, after college.

And to understand why you kind of have to understand what was going on with Harley Quinn at the time. So, ok, Harley debuted in Batman the Animated Series, an exceptionally well-done adaptation of Batman that is specifically noted for taking the superhero comic world's devotion to maintaining a status quo super seriously. And by that I mean that essays have been written on the sort of Calivinist nature of morality in Batman the Animated Series, where if a character is a supervillain, then nothing they do, no matter how well-intentioned, will EVER allow them to break free of being evil. Poison Ivy wants to leave villainy behind and be a mother? Well, because she is Inherently Villainous, she can't help doing it in a way that involves mind control and gene splicing and crimes against humanity. Mr. Freeze wants to save his wife? Well, there's no way he can ever progress that goal without harming people with a freeze ray, and also every evil scheme he concocts to reach that end - a noble goal, mind you - will be foiled, leaving his wife still frozen on the brink of death. If you are a villain in BTAS, you will always, always, ALWAYS be a villain, no matter how hard you try to redeem yourself. The status quo MUST be maintained, no matter how tragic your situation is.

Which adds a meta-textual layer of bleakness to the already incredibly bleak life of Harley Quinn. Harley is a psychologist who fell in love with her patient, and said patient happened to be the Joker, i.e. one of the most notorious supervillains of all time. She turns herself into a supervillain to impress him, throws her career in the toilet in the process, and ends up being used as a disposable tool and punching bag by said villain over and over again. Harley suffers horrendous abuse from the Joker, commits horrible crimes to gain his favor, suffers terribly when she's caught by Batman, and basically repeats this cycle over and over and over and over again.

Because the status quo must be maintained, no matter how bleak your situation is.

It should be noted that, in the (intentional or not) Calvinist nature of the show, Harley's misery is clearly intended to be a direct result of her flaws. In Batman the Animated Series, pre-villain Harley is explicitly stated not to be a good psychologist to begin with - she was not smart enough to earn her degree honestly and slept with her teachers to raise her grades. Never ethical or talented, it's kind of treated as though her situation is her own fault for not growing as a person like she should have in the first place, which, uh... I don't think that element aged well at all, honestly.

But, luckily, Harley proved popular enough that the Batman the Animated Series take on her didn't remain the ONLY take for very long.

In fact, Harley's popularity grew so big over time that by the 2000's she got her own solo series, which came with a big problem to solve: how does Harley Quinn, a character who revolves around the Joker, who in turn revolves around Batman, work as a character without the two characters she was designed to orbit around? She's a moon, not a star, how can that work?

Well, Harley had to change, and that meant the status quo had to change.

Harley breaks up with the Joker and tries to, well, not go legit necessarily, but be a more low-profile kind of supervillain so Batman stops punching her in the face so much. More mischief and misdemeanors and less murder and manslaughter, and when she does kill someone it's, like, a serial killer or assassin, so basically fine. Because her relationship with the Joker is, like, the PICTURE of an abusive relationship, Harley becomes this picaresque figure, escaping from her chains to run free and rampant, and inviting us along for the ride.

And with that independence as a guiding theme, Harley got retooled a bit. She's always been a cheerful goofball, so it's not really out of character for her to help people now and then, albeit in a chaotic, mayhem-filled way. And hey, she has a degree in psychology - what if we just ignored the original intent and presented her as legitimately good at it? That brings a new sort of pathos to Harley Quinn, if she was a genuinely talented and dedicated person who stumbled once and paid severely for it - and it makes us invested in her quest to find some way to pull herself together after falling so hard.

And... that's kind of sympathetic, isn't it? It's hard to screw up worse than Harley Quinn did, it's hard to ruin your life more than she did, and yet here she is, still trying to pull it together in spite of that. She lives in a town so dark and depressing it has "Goth" in its name. Her ex-boyfriend is a killer clown who is infamous in-universe and out as one of the most cruel and monstrous villains of all time. Her resume consists of "psychiatrist who slept with her patient" and "moll for the most notorious serial killer alive." In many continuities she has permanently dyed her skin chalk white. You simply cannot fuck up worse than Harley Quinn has.

And yet she keeps trying. There's something heroic about that.

Harley has been beaten and abused by the man she gave up everything to be with, and yet she keeps trying. She is hated by most of the world because of her villainous past, and yet she keeps trying. She can never, EVER go back to the life she had, to the career she went to college for, to the stable, normal life she at one point wanted, and yet she KEEPS TRYING. She lives in the world of superhero comic books, where any significant change to the status quo is (almost) ALWAYS undone, where character development is considered a mistake that has to be unwritten, where redemption is impossible because once the narrative decides you're a villain that's what you will (almost) ALWAYS be...

And yet. She keeps. TRYING.

In a world that is determined to treat her as a punching bag, Harley finds a reason to smile, to hope that life will get better, to laugh and try and find love and happiness and joy. And her hope was so strong and so infectious that it changed the status quo. Harley being the Joker's punching bag hench-girlfriend used to be all she could aspire to be, but now? That's just her origin story, and she's become so much more than that.

She's a mess of Red Flags, an absolute fuckup of a human being, a terrible person, but goddammit, she is TRYING to be better, she is trying to make herself a good person, she is trying to make the world smile, and through all the shit thrown her way, she still believes in love and happiness. I don't just like Harley Quinn or crush on her the way I do with other fictional characters - I'm inspired by her. I strive to have some fraction of her resolve, her determination, her steadfast will to survive and thrive. Because if she can make it, if she can laugh so loud that the immutable law that is Comic Book Status Quo will bend for her, then dammit, any of us can do it.

...

Plus she's a hot lady in clown makeup who wears leather jackets and skin-tight acrobatic tights, I mean c'mon now almost everyone's down for that on some level

[ganondoodle]

i obviously didnt expect the story or lore to be groundbreaking, i know what franchsie this is after all, but i dont think you can fault me for hoping for a bit more nuance/interesting story, especially considering how they made a point keeping it vague and oh so mysterious when its all the same stuff again except zelda is gone (though i doubt they will keep it that way, im not through with the game yet do NOT spoil me on stuff, these are my CURRENT thoughts)

the gameplay is mostly fun, the music is great, and i do feel like the side characters were given more attention, which is great, but overall, so far, i feel a little .. empty, no in the sense that the world is empty, bc it absolutely isnt, but after having found all dragon tears that i know of i sorta lost the feeling of intrigue and a hollow one took its place i will form my final opinion on it once im all done playing the game which i am far from, but so far it really, unfortunately, feels like slightly expanded botw but replace all sheikah tech with sonau tech with no explanation given as to why the former is both nearly entirely gone and why no one cares anymore

so .. i did all the glyphs (but by far not all dungeons and theres still ton to do) and boi

i feel weird about saying this but i am … not invested at all in the story, like even the stuff with zelda (a plotpoint which i called out correctly right shortly after the beginning even lol) didnt get to me even a little bit and ganondorf feels even flatter as a character than before :I

[perilegs]

i rlly like reading higurashi so far bc it has its moments where something is said and you're immediately like "oh lol i know what's going to happen," and those moments are always almost too on the nose, like someone saying "i'll be back" in a 90s horror movie or something, but since there's so much silly stuff in the vn it kind of forces you to forget about what you know for a sec every now and then and only then reward you with proof of being right

[thetimetraveler24]

Sometimes I think about how people rank Jason as their least favorite because he’s “such a bland character with no personality”, but was he even allowed to have one in the first place?

He’s two years old when Lupa guides him to Camp Jupiter. He’s brought up to be the perfect soldier, the perfect Roman, the perfect hero. He doesn’t know life outside the legion. He’s the son of Jupiter, he has to be great. If he’s not, he’s a failure and a disgrace. If he is then he’s still not the best because there so many other heroes who did it better than him so he has to keep trying harder and harder even though no matter what he’s never going to be good enough because the moment he slips up he’s no longer the perfect hero.

The few times he actually tries to do something he wants, he’s only cut down. Changing the 12th legion to the 1st legion? No, you can’t do that. It’s tradition. You’re wrong. That’s stupid. Joining the 5th cohort? Why would you join those losers? You’re only hurting yourself. You could be great if you join the 1st cohort instead like a good Roman boy.

So why would he try to do anything that cultivates his identity? Why would he try to do anything that brings him joy if everyone around him is just going to suck it right out?

He has no best friends at Camp Jupiter. He has acquaintances. He has people he’s friendly with. Say what you want but Reyna was a coworker. Dakota was cool, Gwen was nice. But none of them make Jason want to stay at Camp Jupiter instead of Camp Half-Blood. He thinks of Reyna but only in terms of he doesn’t want to saddle her with the responsibility of picking a new praetor. He thinks about duty. When he is picking between the camps he’s weighing his options between doing his duty as he’s done his whole life or picking himself for the very first time ever and he picks himself.

And it’s honestly so fucking depressing that the first time Jason picks himself and is actually supported in his decision happens when he is sixteen years old. And most of the people supporting him have only known him for a month.

But then he saddles himself with duty and responsibilities because that’s all he’s ever known and Percy is dying and Jason is a good Roman and a good hero and his job is to sacrifice his life for everyone else because of course it is. So he takes on Pontifex Maximus to build shrines and temples to minor gods and goddesses (not that they shouldn’t be honored but… once again he’s sacrificing his identity for the good of everyone around him).

And then, just as he’s finally discovering an identity for himself—he likes physics, he’s learning about the mortal world and living in it, he’s becoming more than just Jupiters son and Juno’s perfect hero—he’s killed.

Jason never got to be Jason. He only got to be Jason Grace, son of Jupiter, Praetor of the 12th Legion, slayer of Krios, one of the Seven, Juno’s Champion, Pontifex Maximus. He always belonged to someone else and never himself.

All this to say, Jason is my favorite of the Seven and although he’s not the eldest nor a daughter, as an eldest daughter I relate so hard and feel very seen in him.

[sevilynne]

"B—but... Snivellus is a death eater..."

Listen here, you little shit. For Severus, he got neglected by BOTH parents (and it was implied that he was abused both physically and mentally as well.), gets bullied by two boys because he wanted to go to Slytherin (who sneers back and ends up getting bullied), almost gets killed and Sirius nor Remus gets any consequences other than detention (Really? Is his life worth detention and not Azkaban?), James flexes it to Lily and Lily starts believing James over the victim, Severus accidentally calls his bestfriend a mudblood over the heat of the situation (Lily was about to smile, when James literally used scorgify in his mouth), loses the person thay cared for him the most compared to others (Which Lily isn't even a good friend, so his life is messed up), with Remus and Sirius not maturing (Sirius still calls Severus "Snivellus", and Remus and Sirius spreading lies like "Severus was jealous of James" or "Lily never hated James," when it's the other way around!!! James was jealous of Severus because he existed and Lily was his best friend!

Now his blood supremacist friends are basically recruiting him, and helping him on the way! Basically, the "bad side" is his good side! They are the only ones who "cared" for him when he needed help! He was a death eater for a reason, and people manipulating him because he was vulnerable is a reason.

The audacity of stans trying to make a hotter version of Severus—Regulus? Regulus is basically a walmart Severus but Timothée Chalamet dressed up in wizard robes! If Regulus was told as ugly, nobody would boohoo care about him.

Y'all only hate Severus and love Regulus because J.K. Rowling never made a Marauders era movie! Regulus is basically a blood supremacist with Voldemort shrines and posters who'd call Lily a mudblood! While Severus is basically bullied on a daily basis.

You guys got to see Severus's good and bad things! Like him "bullying" children, but saved the wizarding world. Literally, maybe he targeted children, but so did Minerva! Minerva literally targeted Neville and locked him outside of the Gryffindor common room when there's an apparent psycho killer, and humiliated him infront of everyone! But we all never see that because we are in Harry's POV, she favours him—she only took points and she was apparently fair because Harry's BIASED!!! Just like how all Slytherins are portrayed because of Hagrid and Ron!!! She favours Gryffindor just like how Severus favours Slytherin, except she takes big points away (which is from Gryffindors she doesn't like) and when she's infront of the professors!

Severus is a morally grey character, and Regulus? We basically time skipped him, we skipped all of the bad things he has done while we never skipped Severus's, that's why you don't have a bad opinion about him, but really! In the Marauders timeline, Regulus was a Voldemort fanboy while Severus literally had stuff happening.

This is why you don't hate James Potter, you guys basically skipped HIS timeline and moved to Harry's, which Severus is portrayed to be this big bad bully until DH! And that's why Harry "Snape's #1 Biggest Hater" Potter's vision changed to "Snape's #1 Biggest Defender", just like how his vision changed from "My father is a great man" to "I fucking hate my own father".

But you guys are so deep into these fanfics like CR (Crimson Rivers) or ATYD (All the Young Dudes) that you all forget about canon lore! He physically assaulted, sexually assaulted, and mentally exhausted Severus! We're not throwing the SA word around, because lets think of this:

———

Lily let out a stream of mixed swearwords and hexes, but her wand being ten feet away, nothing happened.

“Wash out your mouth,” said James coldly. “Scourgify!”

Pink soap bubbles streamed from Lily’s mouth at once; the froth was covering her lips, making her gag, choking her —

“Leave her ALONE!”

James and Sirius looked around. James’s free hand jumped to his hair again.

It was one of the boys from the lake edge. He had black hair that fell to his shoulders and startlingly onyx eyes.

“All right, Snape?” said James, and the tone of his voice was suddenly pleasant, deeper, more mature.

“Leave her alone,” Severus repeated. He was looking at James with every sign of great dislike. “What’s she done to you?”

“Well,” said James, appearing to deliberate the point, “it’s more the fact that she exists, if you know what I mean...”

Many of the surrounding watchers laughed, Sirius and Wormtail included, but Lupin, still apparently intent on his book, didn’t, and neither did Severus.

“You think you’re funny,” he said coldly. “But you’re just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. Leave her alone."

Behind her, the Impediment Jinx was wearing off. Lily was beginning to inch toward her fallen wand, spitting out soapsuds as he crawled.

“Bad luck, Prongs,” said Sirius briskly, turning back to Evans. “OY!”

But too late; Lily had directed her wand straight at James; there was a flash of light and a gash appeared on the side of James’s face, spattering his robes with blood.

James whirled about; a second flash of light later, Lily was hanging upside down in the air, her robes falling over her head to reveal skinny legs and a skirt.

Many people in the small crowd watching cheered. Sirius, James, and Wormtail roared with laughter. Severus, whose furious expression had twitched for an instant as though he was going to smile, said, “Let her down!”

“Certainly,” said James and he jerked his wand upward. Evans fell into a crumpled heap on the ground.

Disentangling herself from her robes, she got quickly to her feet, wand up, but Sirius said, “Petrificus Totalus!” and Lily keeled over again at once, rigid as a board.

“LEAVE HER ALONE!” Severus shouted. He had his own wand out now. James and Sirius eyed it warily.

“Ah, Snape, don’t make me hex you,” said James earnestly.

“Take the curse off her, then!”

James sighed deeply, then turned to Lily and muttered the countercurse.

“There you go,” he said, as Lily struggled to her feet again, “you’re lucky Snape was here, Evans —”

“I don’t need help from filthy little Mudbloods like him!" (Severus is canonically a Mudblood because he has dirty blood—Muggle blood)

Severus blinked.

“Fine,” he said coolly. “I won’t bother in future. And I’d wash your skirt if I were you, Evans.”

“Apologize to Snape!” James roared at Evans, his wand pointed threateningly at her.

“I don’t want you to make her apologize,” Severus shouted, rounding on James. “You’re as bad as she is.”

“What?” yelped James. “I’d NEVER call you a — you-know-what!”

“[...], walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can — I’m surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK.”

He turned on his heel and hurried away.

“Snape!” James shouted after him, “Hey, SNAPE!” But he didn’t look back.

“What is it with him?” said James, trying and failing to look as though this was a throwaway question of no real importance to him.

“Reading between the lines, I’d say he thinks you’re a bit conceited, mate,” said Sirius.

“Right,” said James, who looked furious now, “right —”

There was another flash of light, and Evans was once again hanging upside down in the air.

“Who wants to see me take off Evans’s skirt?”

———

Now, let's see if this isn't messed up. This is humiliating! Why did Severus leave his female best friend when she was being PA'd and SA'd by a male! Why did he take out his wand too late? Why is he such a coward?

Gender roles do matter in this context, no matter if Severus considers this as SA or not, it's SA and he got his pants stripped down, but it doesn't matter, he's a boy isn't he?

If this was Lily, everyone would care, but no! It's greasy, slimy, old Snape, and he's a boy.

Sirius nor James used dark spells, but they were pretty much using hexes so it doesn't matter—they are basically baby DE bullies but Gryffindors.

Stop attacking Severus and start thinking about this, because he was just a boy.

A lot of people (Not all) cared for Harry when Myrtle basically tried to SA him, why not Severus? He was stripped infront of the whole school! (Not invalidating Harry's trauma), this is just so messed up.

[hazashiovo]

Oblivious, supportive fem Reader x Ayano Aisha, the reader really doesn't get that poor Ayano likes her. It would be nice if they are childhood friends and if Reader isn't a pushover or weak, just clueless as fuck when it comes to love.

After all, girls make shrines about each other all the time, right? And really, getting chocolate from your gal pal on valentines day is the best, good thing you got her home made chocolate too!

My first Yan sim request:D

Ayano Aishi x Female reader

Side note: this character is a yandere,wich means yandere themes might appear disturbing to some readers.

T/W: mentions of kidnaping,mentions of drugging, obsessive behavior,murder,blood, stalking, pshycothic behavior,mentions of self harm and suicide.

Ayano has known you ever since she started first grade. You being her only friend in school,and with time this friendship evolved.

Which made you and the dark haired girl grow closer.

Her behavior never made you uncomfortable around her, neither did her silence. Because in truth,you liked it better, the difference between you two matched perfectly.

Your out going and talkative personality tangling with Ayano's introverted and silent language.

Kids your age called her many names due to her lack of emotions,but every time you were there to send them on their way with a bruise or two, nobody talks to your best friend like that!

At first when she was little,the girl saw your behavior towards her unnecessary. Why were you trying to get close to her? She had nothing to offer back to you.

But as she grew, whenever you weren't around her there was this empty spot in her heart,and that dull feeling griping her soul.

Not long before starting highschool did she realize what this meant.

Her mother talked to Ayano about this,since she was a child.Of course you were her special person,the one who will fill her heart with joy and warmth.

You belong to her.

And nobody can convince her otherwise.

You noticed when she became more clingy to you during breaks,but what you didn't see was the way she was glaring down at any student who dared to look at you for more than one second.

You didn't ask questions when your things were 'Borrowed' and never given back,it's what friends do,right? They share things with each other.

There would be times when you felt followed,like a shadow was glooming over you, following your every move when she wasn't with you. Even if you turned around to ease your paranoia,not seeing anyone there made it worse for you.

People noticed how tight you were with Ayano,so they chose not to meet pats with you. After all the shorter girl was creepy,who would want to tangle in something so complicated, definitely not most of the students,that's for sure.

But some couldn't help but be curious, maybe the feeling of being with someone they shouldn't be excited them.

But it didn't matter to Ayano. How do I know? The student coincidentally died because of food poisoning.

Rat poison isn't a condiment,silly.

Nothing changed after the incident,you and Ayano were closer,yes, that's because she offered you more protection than before, promising something like this will never happen to you. Unless it has to

Oh and she was over the moon when you accepted her invitation for a sleepover over, barely waiting to see your beautiful sleeping face,maybe she could even steal a kiss.

It didn't strike you as weird when you accidentally found her little shrine.

Dedicated to you, you even found it cute.

It had some of the hair ties and pins Ayano 'borrowed' from you a long while ago, pictures with the two of you as little children,pre teens and one from the first day of school.

She even kept the doodles you drew for her couple of months ago. Awh,she really is a sentimentalist even if she doesn't show it.

When ayano saw you looking trough her prized possessions she swore she saw her life flash before her eyes.

Heart rate quickening and this panick taking place in her chest. What will you say now? You will definitely hate her and then you won't want to be her friend anymore. How will she see you if you won't be her friend? How will she confess her love to you?

Of course all those thoughts broke when she heard your chuckle. Mind suddenly clear from the anxious rambling in her head.

"Man, why didn't you tell me? If I knew you prized those moments so much I would have taken more photos!" Relief completely washes over her when she sees that grin on your sweet lips. Why was she over thinking in the first place? You never doubted her, you're her loyal friend.

Of course,if you ever were to be creeped out by her she would have to take you, she'd never allow you to leave. After all you two can have a wonderful life together, whether you like it or not.

But that's not the case now, fortunately she doesn't have to drug you and tie you to her bed. How fortunate !

She smiles, nodding and promising to ask you for more photos for her 'prized moments'.

More people started either going missing or end up dead. People who tried taking you away from her,can't they see? You belong with her, you belong to her.

Since people are so stupid,she has to make it obvious and spell it in their face.

Slowly, letters practically spawned in your shoe locker.

Love poems calling you the sweetest of names. You were intrigued who this anonymous fan was,you must say you even tried peeking to see who was leaving them,but failed each time.

Ayano on the other hand was overwhelmed by pride when she heard you rambling about your secret admirer, cutely giggling over one particular sentence or so.

But she also felt... jealous? It doesn't matter that she's the one who wrote them,but seeing you so enamored with this 'anonymous ' person annoyed her.

On occasions she started gifting you chocolate she knew you liked. Mostly doing it because she loved your happy little squeals and that hug that followed after. She loved the feeling of your chest pressed against hers so tightly. Often wondering how it would feel without the layers of clothes on top of it.

This was only a step further to her plan, this way it wouldn't be a shock when she confessed her undying love to you. You will realize she's the only one you deserve,and you'll accept her love,even return it!

By the end of the first school year you're ready for the final part of her plan.

Yeah the people in your class wonder how you two are not dating yet. Of course they can see how deep Ayano is in for you,but you simply can't.

Making you hers. After she worked so hard this whole year to please you and gain your affection (even if she already had it) she's finally ready to spill her feelings to you.

So here she is,hidden behind the Sakura flower tree, waiting for you to join her.

Your secret admirer called you here to tell you something important,right in the last day of school,in case something goes wrong.

She will leave with you in any case scenario, preferably hand in hand ,rather than taking you home in a box,oh well.

If all goes well,by this time next year you will be her beloved girlfriend,but if not, then you'll be in her basement accompanied by her. Easy.

"Ayano?" Your sweet voice calls out once you get a whiff of the dark ponytail behind the thick tree. It's now or never.

And there she goes, spilling her feelings to you hoping you will return them. Telling you how she wrote those letters meaning every single word that was written on the paper. How she spent her afternoons making the chocolate gifted to you.

This of course came off as a surprise to you, never really thinking Ayano would be able to fall for somebody , especially you. Her best friend since first grade. We're you just so obvious you never noticed the signs?

One look at her flushed face and hopeful eyes and you knew that you also liked her all along,you just chose to push those feelings aside due to your fear of them never being returned by the brunette.

Of course you accepted her confession,and returned it of course.

But if you truly knew the things she had to do to have you,never In a million years would you choose to be hers.

Bonus, slightly suggestive

Ayano didn't usually dream,but when she did ,you were the star of the dream.

Most of her dreams would end up with you on display for her. The next morning she would check you out and pout, thinking that it's a long way before she actually gets to see you and touch your naked body.

But a girl can dream,right?

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

An Arranged Marriage, part 7

(This is the second part posted on the same day! Make sure you didn’t miss 6!)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

M!troll x f!reader

1.2k words (tw for mention/suggestion of assault)

Zen’jan’s secret left you reeling and without a plan you left the city, but is the wilds really any better?

————

All the air left your lungs at his words, you want to scream but could not even manage that.

“It is alright” Zen’jan said trying to reassure you while getting up and taking a step towards you, finger still bleeding and dagger still in hand, “You are safe here, I promise! Please just sit and listen to me” he took another step towards you and reached for your hand.

“Don’t touch me!” you screamed at him, finally finding your voice. The clawing panic was rising in your throat, threatening to strangle you into silence again.

You looked at the man in front of you, the man who had been taking care of you and watching over you, it was like he was a complete stranger all over again. A follower of the Shadows, and avatar of the God of Shadows!

He looked visibly hurt and took a step back, “I am so sorry, I know I should not have sprang this on you, but please just listen to me, to Tsov’ka” slowly he reached his hand back out to you.

“No! Leave me alone!” you scrambled away from the shrine, away from Zen’jan. You did not know where you were going, but you had to get away. The brighter lights of the other shrine rooms and then the daylight blinded you, but once more being in the light comforted you and shook the deep chill out of your bones.

You kept moving, putting as much distance between yourself and the shrines, and hopefully Zen’jan. Nowhere felt safe, not home, not anywhere in the city, no one to talk to.

Out of the city it was then. You passed under the main gates that lead out of the ravine and into the surrounding grasslands. A few times you came out here with Bira, you knew it was pretty safe, especially if you followed along the small mountain ranged that housed the city.

For hours you walked, at first occasionally seeing people or passing by farms until they got fewer and fewer until you truly were alone. You did not have a plan, all you knew was that going back to the city was not an option.

You walked until your legs nearly gave out, collapsing into a sobbing mess, leaning against one of the very few trees in the grasslands for a needed bit of shade. It was a bit before midday when you had left, now the sun had moved fairly far along its path and would start in set in the next hour or so.

You curled up, maybe a nap would help you clear you mind a little.

“What’s a human doing way out here?” came a man’s voice that jolted you awake.

“Isn’t she the Lord Admiral’s daughter? The one that got married off?” came a second voice.

“Lucky day if she is” said the first one again.

You cracked your eyes open just enough to check your surroundings. Several human men stood around you, still not aware you had woken up.

“Whatcha figure she’s doing out here?” asked another.

“Who knows, who cares. You know the reward on her if anyone gets her back to her father? Set for life” answered the first.

Your father? None of it particularly made sense, you were tired and dehydrated, but at least this could be your way out.

“She’s a pretty thing, isn’t she? Shame she’s been ruined by a fucking monster” another chimed in.

“Speak for yourself, I’d still fuck her” the second piped up.

“Isn’t the reward for either bringing her back or for making it look like the monsters killed her?” came one of the previous voices.

“It is, it’s anything they can use to righteously start this war again. Get her home and let her father spin some horrible tales, or just kill her now and make it look like the monsters turned on her” answered the first again.

The War. It had only ended a few months ago. The death toll on both sides had been horrific, though most of the fighting all happened on the seas and grasslands surrounding the city here, and you had seen just how bad it was.

“Seems like a lot of effort to bring her back, another mouth to feed and supplies are already low. I say have a little fun with her and the just kill her” one suggested.

Your heart was racing, suddenly things were going sideways very fast. There looked to be six or so of them and only one of you, not good odds. You weighed the chances of bolting, though you were not sure if you could get away fast enough.

“Fine, it’s all the same in the end. Grab her and bring her back to camp at least though”.

You decided to take your chances, it looked like either die for sure soon or at least try to live. With whatever strength you could muster you leapt up and booked it, only making it a few steps before you were grabbed by your wrist.

“Now where do you think you’re going, little thing? And how much did you hear?” asked the first. He was an imposing man, the quintessential bandit looking type, as were the others.

You screamed, loud as you could until he placed a hand over your mouth.

“Screaming isn’t going to do anything, you’re miles and miles from anyone else, and you’re going to give me a headache with all that. Someone, knock her out”.

Before you could register anything else you were hit with a blinding pain on the back of your head, then blackness.

You awoke with a splitting headache and to the muffled sounds of voices.

“…in a bit, where’s she going anyways? Her hands are tied” one said.

It was dark, you had been tossed in a tent with your hands tied and left alone for now. Tears streamed down your face. You ran from the shadows, you heeded the teachings of the Light, why didn't the Light protect you?

It was getting cold with the sun down now, you could see the shadows cast by the fire poking under the tent, but its warmth could not reach you.

“It’s fucking cold, isn’t it?” one of the men asked.

“Toss some more wood on the fire then” another replied.

“And it’s fucking dark” the first speaker said.

“It’s nighttime, of course it’s dark you f-” he was cut off.

Everything was eerily silent for a moment, then the world was plunged into inky black darkness.

Screaming and snarling pierced through the stillness. Bloodcurdling screams of dying men and the snarls of something else. You held you breath and squeezed your eyes shut while you tried to block out the sounds of death. Fear gripped you and you just hoped whatever was out there would miss you.

Moments dragged to minutes, to what felt like an eternity until nothing but silence remained and the glow of the fire returned. Cautiously you peered under the edge of the tent, nearly retching at the sight. Blood soaked the ground in shiny puddles, men lay in shreds, mauled to the point of being unrecognizable amongst the viscera.

“I am so sorry” came a familiar voice at the door of the tent.

You looked up to see a figured cloaked in shadows, but it was a familiar one.

“Zen?”

And once more the world was black.

Part 8

[paintedonmyteeth]

Ghostface HCs ⋆｡°✩👻🔪

Wahoo, more Ghostfaceeee. Ghostface brainrot be really taking over tho gadayum, Danny gonna drill a hole into my fucking brain; unlike Pyramid Head as he pretty much made a crater. Smh, I’m rambling too much and Imma move on from that now — yeah slightly busy week but pushing through in the mean time and having Ghostface for some fuckin’ motivation. Some nsfw shit will be mentioned so MDNI and possibly some gore but nonetheless, this’ll be a fun one boys. ∠( ᐛ 」∠)_

OKAY getting this shit out of the way first but Slipknot do be hitting hard for me atm and I gotta say it’s either Vermilion or Prosthetics that give me massive brainrot and Ghostface vibes.

It’s a possibility I might even write a mini fic based off of Prosthetics ngl, now there’s a fuckin’ thought.

It’s either some dumbass banter or flirting between you and Ghostface, never an in between. Most of the time 90% of whatever flirtatious remarks comes out of Danny’s mouth is a joke, but at the same time he’s also not fuckin’ kidding.

“Baby what that tongue do?” “Lick my fingers. To turn the pages of the Bible for sinners like you.”

Get ready for some nightly fucking shenanigans because Ghostface is going to drop in when you least expect it.

Despite being the flirtatious bastard he is, Danny can get clingy at times.

Like this man could demand cuddles and if you refuse he will just tie you up and have his cuddles anyways because he doesn’t give a shit if you say no. He does what he wants anyways.

He’ll have you lying there tied up and helpless on your bed, listening to whatever fuckin’ rants he’s going on about, probably something about his night or maybe shit talking about another resident in Roseville he plans to kill in some few days. ┐(￣ヮ￣)┌

By the time he’s leaving he might’ve took something small of yours for keeping, not like you were gonna notice much of a difference anyways. And you’re definitely not gonna get it back.

Besides stalking his chosen targets for his next kill, Ghostface still keeps his tabs on you whenever he doesn’t happen to show up inside your home or phone in. Either he’d take some photos on random occasions while you’re in public, keeping lost items of yours, might’ve ended up building a small shrine out of that shit ngl.

It’s almost hilarious but at the same time it isn’t, because Ghostface swore to himself he would never build some sort of attachment towards his victims or anybody in general but then you came along and somehow changed that shit. 💀💀

Might’ve found out your text tbh so he could annoy you for endless hours during the day when he’s not around and playing himself as Jed and working at the Gazette.

Did I forget to mention how possessive he is??? Man’s honestly lucky to have some restraint and composure seeing some other people talking to you and breathing the same fuckin’ air otherwise he would’ve killed them already by the next night, this shit don’t apply to that drunkard who was harassing you the one Saturday night you went out to the bar with friends though. That shit was justified in his opinion.

There’s either two reasons and two reasons only why Ghostface would’ve made a drop inside your house, either this man is wanting attention from you and to talk, or this mfer is horny as shit. There’s no in-between.

Dude’s into kinky shit you name it, stuff like: bondage, blood play, knife play, things like that. Blood play might’ve been off the table for the first half however he might’ve brought it up some time around when you got comfy enough where you weren’t constantly having to get into some cat fight with the guy.

Might I add, the first time he met you and he was picking you off as one of his victims he got a fuckin’ hard-on from your fear and seeing the bit of blood smeared on your arms or cheeks while you were fighting for your life.

Mirror sex, semi-public sex, a quickie, phone sex, dude’s up for some small bit of risks and that mainly goes with semi-public ofc because he finds it fun and adds more spice to the situation.

He’s still paying close in mind wherever he does it so he himself isn’t getting caught in that position with you and shit would somehow escalate. He doesn’t do it often a lot but maybe to some rare occasion or something like that.

He likes hearing you beg and looking like an absolute flustered mess under him. 😌

Rough sex is also a big yes, he doesn’t do it gentle much but it might’ve happened in some rare chances even if you didn’t ask for it.

Mask stays on babes he’s not taking it off during sex.

He’s also pushing you to overstimulation because he can and will, and he takes fuckin’ joy out of it >:))

Gets a small power trip out of it too, knowing he’s the one driving you insane this way and making you plead for his cock.

Shhh that’s just his way of showing how much he loves you.

He’s pretty good with aftercare, cuddles in bed afterwards and a short nap in the mean time before morning where he’ll have to bounce by then and get to work.

☠︎︎༒︎✞︎🕸𖤐

[intothedysphoria]

Steve didn’t understand why people kept trying to push him towards Billy Hargrove.

It was like they didn’t think two gay guys could co exist in the same space without fucking, it was archaic. Besides, they hung out in completely different circles, bar being on the same basketball team.

Steve wouldn’t be interesting enough for Billy. Or smart enough. It was just Carol’s obsession with meddling so Steve ignored it.

He was watching the Lion King to revel in nostalgia when Dustin demanded to know how long he and Billy had been dating. When Steve looked blank, Dustin sighed and told him to check Instagram.

Tommy, the eternal troll had made a long post about his “favourite couple” which would seem sincere to anyone who hadn’t been friends with Tommy since the first grade. So now Steve had to do damage control.

Ignoring his mom’s texts about the “lovely new boy”, Steve decided to go on a quest to Billy’s apartment.

The Billy Hargrove Steve came across when he knocked was glowing with anger. The only positive was that the anger was directed at Tommy, not Steve.

He’d also evidently been cooking, judging by the smells coming from the kitchen. Steve sat himself under a shrine to Metallica and accepted a bowl of soup, poorly masking his confusion.

“How the fuck do we clear this up?”

Well that was the question.

Vehemently denying it would make them look guilty, ignoring it would make everyone just think of it as fact………..there was only really one option.

They played into it. Just a little bit.

A couple of flirty Instagram posts, some footsie under the table, everyone would realise how ridiculously not a couple they were.

At least that was the plan.

What actually ended up happening was Steve getting handsy with Billy in a club because he’d just realised a year long crush. Billy was presumably just super fucking horny.

Tommy was annoyed that they’d taken the joke back from him, which was really the aim, (Steve loved Tommy but god he was insufferable sometimes), but Robin didn’t seem so sure.

“Just check that you’re both on the same page with this Steve. You tend to get attached quite quick.”

Ugh.

With a deep feeling of reluctance, Steve sent Billy a voicemail, then hid his phone under his bed.

If he didn’t look at the phone, the problem didn’t exist.

It had become the Harrington way.

Over the next week, it had gotten so excruciatingly awkward that even Tommy apologised. And everyone was telling him to talk to Billy.

Even Heather who found listening to anyone’s love life a tedious activity said he NEEDED to see Billy.

It was the word need that got Steve to go over. Also the fact that it sounded like Billy had been crying.

Steve was not a fan of any type of scary conversations but the one with Billy was mercifully brief. And it didn’t end up including a lot of talking.

Having his next Instagram post as them kissing on the beach may have been corny but it was worth it.

[moyazaika]

could you imagine a rapper yandere that disses anyone that even MENTIONS their darling/"girlfriend" is a way that isn't worshipping. and he disses hard.

When I say "girlfriend" I mean, the rapper knows the name, address, occupation, phone number, email, etc, has a shrine full of photos that he hired people to take over someone that doesn't know anything about it.

reader is just another person who listens to music and knows his name in passing and his reputation for dissing anyone who talks "bad" about his girl. reader respects it, but doesn't really listen to rap so they move on with their life, completely unaware that THEY are the girl.

it's a complete coincidence that the features and traits that he raps about are the exact same as them. There are plenty of people with that trait.

and no one bats an eye that no photos of the "girlfriend" exists to the public. It's no surprise someone with his level of fame would want to keep their girl private.

"I saw you yesterday at your grandma's, it's a real shame what happened to your grandpops, I need some new fertilizer in my garden, been growing some bad crops, your girl Morgan so bad you're getting blowjobs from your grandma?"

*camera noises*

(I'm not a rapper, apologies for ✨cringe✨)

hey so please don’t apologise i actually fucking love this idea. 😭😭❤️‍🩹 this would be so so cute bonus points for being set in the early 2000’s so we’re in that era of pop and rap where it’s rlly just a few big names dominating the charts, the fun awards shows, cool fashion; y2k baby!

and in this new age of music you’ve got this chart topping rapper who (unlike the other guys in his genre) seems to be rapping not about his opps or his cars or his cash or his bitches but… how much he loves his gf. it’s incredibly endearing.

if only his gf actually knew she was dating him!

and when he stays on top of those charts, wins all those music awards; there’s bound to be jealousy and bitter envy. other artists complain. celebrity interviewers and journalists eat it up; “so what do you think of this mystery girl that seems to be the subject of all his music?”

his competitor rolls his eyes, “dumb as fuck, the both of them. always banging on about how lovely she is how pretty and smart she is… this bitch is a one hit wonder, you feel me?”

… he did not like that. drake vs kanye 2.0 ensues except this time there is no coming back for the poor soul who has the balls to say that. rapper ‘bf’ puts the poor guy’s life on blast.

‘industry plant? least i’m not a plant by the government / makin’ sure them anti bullying campaigns is working.”

okay, that’s not so bad right?

“your funny’s up, but your syndrome’s down, like your money after i put this out—but your dick stays up / when you drive ‘round and look for little boys to spend a night with in town.”

oh! well. looks like nobody’s going to mention this mysterious girl rapper bf adores so much ever again :’)

[baby-tini]

Mikey brain rot. So i was thinking about toman mikey bring reader to the meeting because last time some other gang found out about reader and tried to hurt her to get back at mikey so now he isn't leaving her alone at all (im not good at explaining sorry😭) anyway feel free to ignore if you want!

Don't worry you explained it perfectly, sorry it's so late 😭 Also this happens while Mikey is in Toman, but he's 18 and also Baji is alive in this because HE DIDN'T DESERVE TOO DIE, I'M STILL PISSED ABOUT THAT. TW- violence, implied violence

When Takemichi had interrupted a Toman meeting, by rushing up the stairs and shoving his phone in Mikeys face, Mikey and Draken were pretty pissed, until Takemichi had told Miley you were in trouble. Showing Mikey the text messages, Mikey, Draken and his division captions had rushed to the location you gave Takemichi. Their motorcycles speeding down the high-way as they weaved through cars. Mikey leading, naturally gets to you first, and the others follow in-suite. He's with you in seconds as he knocks one of the guys on their ass with a kick to their stomach. The guy, toppling over and falling backwards as the vice commander and division captions approached, Mikey handing you over to Takemichi as he told him too leave and take you somewhere safe. Mikey never did like you seeing him fight, your gorgeous eyes should never see something so.. brutal. From that point on, you were never allowed out of Mikeys sight. If he had too attend something urgent and genuinely couldn't be with you, he'd have Draken or one of his captions with you. More often then not, you're usually with Draken or Baji. Funnily enough, he'd rarely leave you with Takemichi, because Mikey acknowledges that Takemichi can't fight, and therefore can't protect you. You're safety comes before everything and everyone else. Everyone knows and understands that, they respect him for it, Mikeys first priority is always the people he holds close, but because Mikey holds you the closest, you're always priority number one for everyone. If you're ever in trouble and Mikey can't come, which has never happened before. Mikey has verbally stated that he expects everyone too drop everything and protect you. Because you are with, The Manjiro Sano, everyone sees you as an extension of him, and Toman will treat you how they treat him. With the same amount of respect, loyalty and they hold you too the highest of priorities, as expected of the loyal followers of Toman. That's why you always stand next to Mikey on the stairs of the Musashi Shrine, never an inch below. As I've stated, he's with you constantly, so he's with you at your house, you're at his house a lot. He doesn't go to class, so he'll just sit in your class, he dares the teacher too scold him or call a principal, because he'll beat them both up and just take you away. Manjiro was already pretty clingy but since... that happened, you're always with him and his friends. Even if you're with your friends, Mikey will be there, and of course he has too drag Draken along, sometimes Takemichi, but that's rare. He doesn't really care if your family does family night, he will barge in. Because, his thought process is, that you're his significant other, so obviously he should be invited. Plus, he plans too marry you anyway, so why not start a little early? He's also a very family-oriented person, so getting along with your family means a lot, unless, your family is shitty, then he genuinely doesn't give a FUCK. Although, he would be with you whether they accept him or not, but he would very much rather they accept him but more importantly the relationship he shares with you. You are the most important person in his life and he doesn't mean too come off as over-bearing but he needs constant update from either his friends, your friends or more importantly you, yourself.

[starberry-cupcake]

Here I am again, hoping this silly recap brightens your day a little bit, I'm giving you a gentle hug and a mug of your favorite warm beverage ☕

previously, in harrowcita del 9:

this happened

I somehow predicted @lady-harrowhark's tshirt in the one before that also, it was very funny, in case you missed it

CHAPTER 48

we're doing just one chapter again because this one was Eventful, fam

last we knew, abby pent was trying to lorraine warren the ghost out of harrowcita's bubble

my running theory was that the ghost was commander wake aka allegedly gideon's mom (none of that is in any way confirmed yet)

and ortus was about to say something

I said it might be poetry and, guess what?

I WAS RIGHT

you go, ortus, you recite that poetry

abby apparently takes that as a cue to do something and thinks ortus has too much faith in her

but ortus trusts her, there's a lot of polycule moments in this one

the sleeper/waker/slasher allegedly gideon's mom unconfirmed absolutely does not give a fuck about any of this, she's slaying them all with her "baggy orange suit and gun collection"

I need the suit to look like this so bad

harrow starts making constructs but killer bae starts turning them into ash in seconds

I mean, I know we need harrow to live and this woman is not supporting that idea but damn, she looks cool af

if you fought the emperor at any given point, amanda (I'm calling her amanda for now, I'll elaborate later) how did you lose?????

ortus is harmed, so harrow has to continue with the recitation in his place

so harrow continues to recite the nonius poetry, while abby chants in the background and everyone else waits while bleeding

it's a very involved artistic performance that we've got going on over here in canaan au river bubble

sleeper/waker/slasher/alleged commander wake alleged gideon's mom aka amanda (according to me) shoots harrowcita

but then abby is lifted in blue flames and seems to be holding an invisible book and everything gets all vib-ey

these are the exact vibes I'm picturing

(not because I have a print of that in my room)

so harrowcita is saved from getting shot in the head by a man with the Ninth uniform and a very stellar use of the blade

AND YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE WHO IT IS

IT'S ORTUS'S BLORBO FROM HIS SHOWS!!!!!!!!

matthias nonius is a short king who is surprised to be speaking in meter but is very happy to be here to defend the Reverend Daughter and fight like an expert killing machine

WHERE WAS ALL THIS FIGHTING POWER WHEN IT CAME TO KILLING THE EMPEROR

but not only is matthias nonius 10/10 at fighting (as advertised), the shrine ortus has in his head for him is helping to even the playing field with the waker/sleeper/alleged commander

she can't shoot anymore

"I killed wizard's filth like you all my life. I killed them with guns, and bombs, and knives, and gas, and when I didn't have any of those I just got in real close and put my thumbs through their fucking eyes. You can flick that little skewer around all you like, boy. I'll choke you with it"

SHE'S INTENSE, we can be certain that the Harrow Only Notes were hers

"I certainly hope you're a fighter. God knows you're not a debater"

you guys I'm a certified mati nonius fan right now

ortus is drawing little hearts in his poetry book and writing Ortus Nonius in it

"If all of her cavaliers were this excited for death, she was definitely the problem"

they just love you too much, harrowcita

so mati nonius and waker/sleeper/alleged commander have the most intense and entertaining fight ever

because lyctor fights are weak and boring

but this, this is cinema

harrow thinks that, if gideon had been there, she would have loved the fight but also she'd be terrible at running commentary of it

I disagree, gideon's running commentary is one of the things that keep us together as a society

"In life she must have had few, if any, equals. Her people—whoever they had been—must have cherished her as their finest champion."

gideon got some great fighting genes from all around, if my theories prove right

I mean, if her people are the people I'm thinking, they still have posters of her, so she must have been a big deal before she crashed in the ninth

SAD SHE DIDN'T KILL DR REVEREND EMPEROR JOHN THOUGH

BUT THERE'S STILL TIME FOR THAT

LIKE AN HOUR

harrow says mati nonius is "a poem" which is very nice of her to say

you go, short king

there's a lot of blood happening, also, which could be encouraging, since before this, the waker/sleeper/alleged commander wasn't bleeding at all

the room changes to become a ninth chamber and alleged commander changes clothes from the star trek orange suit to a different yet still orange getup and a golden mask

ortus's shrine in his head built for mati nonius is rewriting the possession

because nothing can pull you from the depths of despair as fast as your favorite blorbo

"My master in life was revenge, my mission is one of—Goddamn it, I'm not going to start talking like this"

more points for the gideon's mom theory

protozoa and ortus are now communicating telepathically, they are starting to put aside their rivalry and finding out they have a lot in common

enemies to friends to lovers speedrun

mati nonius loses his sword and goes feral

protozoa throws his cunty seventh rapier towards him, mati nonius catches it and ends the waker/sleeper/alleged commander

it all looked incredibly cool

once the enemy is partially defeated (let's remember she's supposedly tethered to an object that I think is gideon's sword), the body horror starts falling from the walls

it's described as "sausages flung from a height" which is...quite the thing

like, I get what that sounds like, but also, maybe I didn't wanna know

harrow looks at the face of the waker/sleeper/alleged commander and says it's the woman from the poster of the shuttle

YASSSS GETTING CLOSER TO MY THEORY

like, I still don't know if the woman from the poster is commander wake or if she is indeed gideon's mom, but I'm going all in on this theory

now we have a little intermission in which everyone is waxing poetic about everyone else

this is the canaan house we always wanted to see

protozoa is giving heart eyes to mati nonius, mati is giving respects to harrow, ortus is saying he wants to write a poem about abby, magnus is telling ortus not to flirt with his wife as a joke but ortus looks mortified

and abby says ortus did most of the job but she also points out she corrected some of his spelling

which might have been the biggest mistake in magnus's and abby's lives because they just destroyed their polycule

you can't treat the ninth like that, fifth, they take it personally

but ortus is vindicated because his oshi, his favorite blorbo, his biggest hero, tells him nice things

harrowcita goes to check on the ghost corpse of the waker/sleeper/alleged commander and finds some tags

one of which says AWAKE

I THINK THAT'S MAYBE A. WAKE

AS IN COMMANDER WAKE

and I'm naming her amanda, as previously established

it would go well with the ancient tumblr meme

the prophecy

sure hope this isn't the famous alecto everyone keeps mentioning because it'd ruin my prophecy

abby tells harrow the only way to get rid of her for good is to destroy the object to which she's tethered to

which I suspect might be gideon's sword, so fuck all this

we're meant to lose gideon and her sword??? absolutely not

let the woman kill the emperor instead

ALSO

surprise! mati nonius is besties with gideon the first

now, for someone who was sold out to be super serious and not an extrovert, gideon the first knows EVERYONE

he knows mati nonius, he probably also knows, to some degree of intimacy yet undetermined, the commander, he might be somewhat related to our gideon

the man is everywhere

basically, mati nonius and gideon the first had the same speedrun friendship that gideon had with camilla

they fought each other once and one of them thought "you're friend-shaped :) "

so, mati nonius is willing to go help gideon the first with the beast

because, as we have previously seen, no other lyctor is currently doing what they were supposed to

so, ortus says he'll go with mati to help gideon the first

abby and magnus want him to go with them to be forever happy in their polycule, but it's too late

abby has insulted his spelling and magnus has made him feel uncomfy with his joke about the flirting

HOWEVER protozoa has told him he actually likes him AND has quoted poetry HE WROTE HIMSELF

enemies to friends to lovers to soulmates

martita, who was there the whole time, ties her sword to her broken hand and says she'll go with them

martita is actually cool for a second house person

judith, you didn't deserve her

NOW THERE'S A PROBLEM

A BIG ONE

if harrow doesn't go back to her body, she'll get lost and lose her mind in the river

if she does, though, she's gonna kill gideon for good

harrowcita has a crisis and a breakdown

(and also stops for just a second to remember gideon rolling up her sleeves)

magnus compares the situation to a breakup he had with abby one time, which I don't think really encompasses the gravity of this situation, but ok magnus, it sure is similar

I mean, the breaking up part maybe but the level of gravity of the situation? idk man

I'm sure breaking up with abby felt this dramatic to you but...it's a little different

abby and magnus leave, telling harrowcita that jeanne said to tell gideon "hi" if harrow sees her first

which is super cute of the kid tbh

so, that leaves us with real!dulcinea

who is still here because

1) much like her lyctor counterpart, is very resistant to dying for good

2) she's determined to get vanished into nothingness and disappear into the very essence of existence, which I think sounds pretty cool

"The Seventh says nothingness is the only truly beautiful thing anyway, so nyah"

3) also: "Actually, I've got something to tell you"

I SURE HOPE IT IS A WAY TO SAVE BOTH GIDEON'S AND HARROW'S LIVES

FINGERS CROSSED

and that's it for this chapter!!!! next time, I'm expecting more gideon and yandere twin antics!!!

[donutfloats]

Wait, are The Fox And Ratau's friendship the "friendship turned mutually destructive that will never heal because neither can trust the other as they once did" variety of The Farmer and The Snake tale or are they the "trusting person helps someone in need, only to be betrayed once their help is no longer required" variety?

I'm pretty sure it's the latter, because yk its the Fox we're talking about, but can't never be to sure considering googling it will lead you to both versions of the tale, so that's why Im asking lol

Both if I were to be honest!

They were friends at one point, sharing similar situations (fucked over by gods)

The Fox however was using Ratau to get to the Red Crown, as it’s the only crown left that he has not tasted

Problem is that he maybe sorta kinda caught actual feelings, and started to care about the Rat, but when Ratau discovered The Fox’s plan he cut off contact entirely to them

So present day The Fox requests to eat Ratau with the thought that it’s because he’s the only being he can eat now that has a connection to the Red Crown, but really he still has feelings for Ratau and wants him close again

They were not healthy for eachother because of their relationship being built off of their dislike of the other gods

The Fox is basically in complete denial of how they feel, while Ratau has trust issues and deals with it by devoting himself entirely to The Red Crown

What would happen if Fox ate Ratau though?

My idea is below the cut (cw emetophobia, only mention of it)

So to explain why Fox would have this reaction I’m about to describe I have to quickly explain Fox’s motives for why they want to eat someone that’s related to The Red Crown

In my au Fox, when they were a mortal, was alive during The Great War. They saw gods die, homes burn, fields wither and seasons stop entirely

There was an intense famine during this time, perhaps a tactic used by Heket to dwindle the numbers of opposing cultists. Fox was amongst those starving

Desperate times called for desperate measures, so Fox ate the corpse of a dead god

It wasn’t the first time they had to eat a person, they were starving after all so there were plenty of bodies to pick from for a time, but the bodies rotted away and there were fewer every day. So when they found the body of a dead god they jumped at the opportunity

They discovered that it had a taste to it, something completely unique that made it stand out from mortal flesh- and he liked it

That’s how it started, every time he found a dead god, he’d eat their body. Time would pass, the fields would grow plentiful again, but The Fox still craved more of the godly flesh

So they made it their goal to taste every crown bearer, and if they couldn’t eat the crown bearer- they’d eat their disciple instead, ones who have consumed their gods blood and now had it course through their veins

That is why they wanted the Red Crown, it is the last one, the final course

With that explanation of Fox’s motives, this is what would happen if they were given Ratau and ate him:

Fox would discover that the Red Crown’s flesh tasted of… nothing. No bitterness, sweetness, sourness- hell they would have taken rotten

But it didn’t taste of anything, and they’re devastated about this

All this time, all this waiting, even eating the one person who ever cared for them- it was for NOTHING

So that sends Fox into a melt down, they want to take back what they had done, so they throw up what ever remains of Ratau

All that’s left is bones

That’s why you never see Fox again after handing Ratau to him, as he sits at the spot he spat Ratau up at. Having made a pitiful shrine with what ever remained of his body, and sits there: in denial of what he has done, hoping maybe Ratau will come back to life again one day like he always did when he was a Vessel

[hadesisqueer]

I appreciate The Dragon Prince because it gave me tragic antagonists or villains that I love (Claudia), villains that while I don't really like them I understand how they came to be and can feel a bit of sympathy for (Aaravos or Viren), villains I straight up fucking hate (Sol Regem) and villains that I don't really hate because when they appear on-screen I just sigh wondering how they can be so fucking stupid (Karim). They really give you everything.

No but for real, Karim's entire character arc consists of 'The risk I took was calculated but I am bad at math' because. He's so dumb. He keeps saying he wants to restore the Sunfire Empire to its former glory, but like-- how? What plans do you have for the future? Are you going to try to retake Lux Aurea? Because you can't. Oh, you want humans out? Okay-- how would that help to restore the former glory, though? You're just being a bigot?

The thing is that all Karim ever did was talk about his birthright —that's not even his birthright, actually, because he's the youngest sibling— and keep babbling about history demanding blah blah blah of people and how his sister wasn't a competent queen when actually it is the opposite. Janai proves, by allowing the architect to live while still giving her an according punishment, that she is a fair queen who chooses mercy and allows people to grow while still choosing justice; also, that she's more practical, because what good is a talented architect dead —who did something awful but still was sorta right about fire being dangerous around the camp— when you can just make her build a shrine so this kind of incident never happens again. Janai also had the Sunseed and plans to nurture it and help it grow, help her own people grow. She actually had plans for the future, and she had the patience necessary. She understands that you must learn from history but that it also doesn't define you, that you must not let it define you.

Karim doesn't get that. He was obsessed with history and the old ways. He didn't have any patience. And he didn't have any long term plans. Or even backup plans for when his plans inevitably failed, either! He was so convinced Janai would refuse his duel he was shocked when she actually fought him, and resorted to fighting-- with fire magic-- against someone who's fireproof-- again, no actual plan. He tried using an assassin to kill his sister, the actual person the assassin had a life debt to. He wants to steal the Sunseed, actively fucking over his people. When Ezran tells him to take his followers and start somewhere else, Karim refuses because he says he doesn't want crumbs off his sister's plate, but at the same time it's like-- that's exactly what you were gonna get, buddy. You wanna use Sol Regem to torch your sister's army. The only thing you're gonna rule over is the followers you have now plus what remains of Janai's, if they even accept you. So, yeah. Literally crumbs.

Also, again, he's so fucking entitled. 'What's rightfully mine' he's the youngest sibling, nothing is rightfully his, he's an usurper. Part of his demands being that humans leave and go back to 'their side of the border, where they belong', buddy, you'd be the king of the Sunfire Elves, not the King of all of Xadia. As king you could make humans leave your territory, but not Xadia. If a bunch of humans, hypothetically, befriended Moonshadow or Skywing elves and lived at the Silvergrove, or wherever the Skywing elves live, with them-- what, now you're gonna try to wage war against the the other elves, too, because they're not following your ways? You can threaten them with Sol Regem, sure, but also consider, because you didn't even consider it when you went to him-- he's an Archdragon, yeah, but the weakest of the Archdragons right now. Let's say Ezran and Janai follow through and give up and leave. They could go with Zym and head straight up to the Mushroom Mage and come back with Zubeia, the current Queen of the Dragons, right after she's done with her treatment. They arrive. Who's gonna win? A healthy Archdragon on her prime or an old, blind Archdragon that hasn't flown or fought in centuries? Also, once you give him the Sunseed he actually has no reason to be on your side, he already got what he wanted. Even if the Katolis thing didn't happen, he could've turned against you very easily. He likely would've done so.

He's an awful leader who doesn't actually care about his people. He disrespects other world leaders like Ezran immediately. He's an entitled, bigoted idiot who doesn't actually think things through and that actually makes him both incredibly annoying and very realistic, which actually makes me like him as an antagonist but still makes me let out a exasperated sigh every time he talks. Best part of him is that he's obsessed with going down in history as someone great when, with his actions, he's only going to pass down as the prince who tried to usurp his sister three times and failed the three times, each failure worse than the previous one. Lmao.

[phyx-m]

Beneath The Silk | True form Sukuna x Reader

🔗 Masterlist

Chapter 17: The Lies We Tell Ourselves

Content warning: suggestive sexual content

🔗 Songs for this chapter:

Under Your Command - Stina Nordenstam Hours - FKA Twigs

Chapter 16 | Chapter 18

No one else will harm you here.

Sukuna’s parting words have been all you can think about. You’ve spent countless afternoons turning them over, trying to decide if you can trust him. Strangely enough, you do choose to believe him—and that scares you more than you’re willing to admit.

The week following Sayuri’s attack, you keep to your chambers, only leaving when necessary—to bathe or to eat, which you're not surprised to do alone.

You haven’t seen the King of Curses since that night—since he healed you, since that strange moment of intimacy crawled between you two, or… whatever the fuck that was. 

Now, he's gone again.

When he disappears, it rarely lasts more than a few days, which makes you think he’s never too far. But today marks three days—longer than usual if you’re counting right.

For the most part, this doesn’t bother you. All you can do is track his movements and try to predict when you will have him within arm's reach again.

For killing purposes, of course.

In the meantime, you welcome this small reprieve. It gives you time to dispel the confusing emotions that have begun to slip through the cracks. There’s a growing need to shut them away—to seal them off, every look, every gesture, every moment. Contain them, avoid them, throw them away.

Guard yourself.

Though, you long for some sense of company, particularly Ren’s. You miss her, and she is nowhere to be found.

She took a damn knife to the throat for you, and you desperately want to talk to her, thank her, show your gratitude. You assume she’s resting in her chambers, not from the injury—she was healed—but from the trauma of it all.

In that lonely week, you spend your spare time writing letters to your sister, and the message always comes out the same: How are you? I miss you. Write soon. I love you.

It’s simple, yet no response ever comes.

Why?

It’s been a little over a month since you first stepped through the shrine’s doors, and you’ve yet to receive a single correspondence.

Not one.

This ongoing silence… something must be happening back home, but you have no idea what.

All you want to know is that Yuna is safe. The need to find out swells with each passing day, even overshadowing your task.

If you lose her, if you truly lose her, you’ll have nothing. What would you have beyond that? There’d be no life. No family. No love.

Nothing.

“Uraume,” you call softly one afternoon as you sit alone in the private dining space, trying to swallow tea past the lump of dread filling your throat. “Has there been any word from my sister? My father?”

The likelihood of your father writing is doubtful. The question is no more a shot in the dark than anything else.

A brief apologetic look crosses the pale-haired attendant's face before it settles back into its usual emotionless mask.

“No, my Lady. There has been no reply.” They pivot back to finish preparing your meal.

Right.

The words sting, but they don’t surprise you.

You absentmindedly nod.

That lump in your throat grows. If you open your mouth again, you might sob.

Not trusting yourself, you glance down at your gloved hand, clenched tightly around the silk of your kimono—one of the five Sukuna had gifted you. Lately, you’ve been wearing them in his absence, finding a small, bitter satisfaction in knowing he won’t see you in them. But the pettiness does little to stifle the unease of this situation.

Back home, something has to be wrong. It’s the only explanation.

You inhale.

“Yuna… she hasn’t written to me all this time…” you murmur more to yourself than anyone, your free hand tightly curling around the ceramic cup for stability.

Quietly, Uraume approaches, a wooden tray balanced in their hands. The warm aroma of the food—grilled trout, fluffy steamed rice, tender eggplant, and a perfectly peeled and sliced pear—fills the small room. You glance at the meal, noting how carefully it's been prepared. Having learned your lesson regarding the meat, you’ve slowly returned to eating it, if only to keep up your strength.

They place the tray before you; steam curls up. It looks delicious, but your stomach spasms at the sight.

"I don’t know your sister, my Lady.” They step back, casting their gaze across you. "But perhaps she is simply preoccupied. These matters can take time."

Preoccupied.

That could be true.

With no direct male heir in the Kasai clan, your father has had Yuna rigorously trained to marry into a clan of equal standing. You just hope that’s the reason for her silence—that she’s simply busy learning court etiquette or something ridiculous and mundane.

Still.

“It’s unlike her to stay this silent for so long,” you huff, frustrated, before finishing your tea and placing the cup down. “She would have sent something, anything, even if it was just a few lines…”

What if Onishi has done something to her? 

Your father loves leveraging Yuna, dangling her in front of his chief advisor like a twisted game. To him, she’s become nothing more than a prized lamb being led to slaughter. And Onishi—he's always given her those nauseating looks like he’s just waiting for the chance to sink his teeth in.

You pinch the bridge of your nose as if it could suppress the swirling paranoia.

Yuna is safe. She has to be.

You pick up your chopsticks but only stare into the food before you.

“Do you think… there’s a chance the letters aren’t getting through?” you ask, grappling for some thread of reason.

There’s a pause.

You turn to look at Uraume, who tilts their head, considering.

“It’s possible. We’ve sent the letters, but the journey can take time, and delays are not uncommon.” Their eyes flit to the cooling food in front of you. “Try not to let it trouble you so much, my Lady.”

You could, but you won’t.

With a twitch of your face, you attempt to pull a smile onto your lips.

“I won’t.” You lie.

These questions will linger, trouble you, and sit uncomfortably in the back of your mind until you can finally get a response.

As you continue to sit in the private room your meal goes untouched. Your stomach has pulled into a tight, hard knot, so you push the food around on the plate instead.

Every once in a while, the quiet is broken when an attendant enters, exchanging words with Uraume—always out of earshot, always with a tight frown—before slipping away again. You still feel like an outsider here, but there’s no real point in trying to feel comfortable.

Yet, you can’t help but notice your eyes occasionally drift to the empty cushion at the far end of the table, the one where the monster usually sits.

Without him, the space feels vacant… almost lonely.

Cold.

The thought startles you so much that a sharp snort reverberates up your throat, the sound harsher than you intended.

“My Lady?” Uraume asks, organizing some ceramic dishware off to the side.

“Oh...” Clearing your throat, you try to regain your composure. “Um, could I have some sake, please?”

Too many thoughts are drowning you right now. You need an escape to find some relief, even if it’s burying yourself in a haze of intoxication for a while.

Uraume picks up a bottle by its slender neck and a ceramic cup, then moves toward you. Their movement disturbs the dust motes circling in the mid-September light filtering through the paper screens.

One month.

You have one month remaining to kill Ryomen Sukuna.

You exhale.

They place the cup down, tip the bottle back, fill it to the brim, then step back.

“Thank you.” You take a small sip. The alcohol seethes all the way down to the bottom of your stomach in the best way possible, warmth alighting your body.

Warmth.

Your eyes flick up to the empty cushion again.

Where the hell are you?

You lift the cup for another taste of—

Knock, knock, knock.

Three very precise taps.

You set the cup aside.

Uraume moves and slides open the door.

“I was told you were dining alone, my Lady.” Ren stands there.

“Ren.” Your voice catches as you shoot to your feet, nearly knocking the table over like a fool.

She looks the same—stiff, rigid, stern. Her robe is perfectly arranged, without a single crease. Hair pulled back neatly, not a strand out of place. God, she’s a sight for sore eyes. She pauses at the threshold, her gaze briefly flicking toward Uraume before bowing.

You quickly round the table, hesitating as you approach her. Ren’s hands tighten in the familiar way she always clasps them in front of her.

You freeze. She, like you, values her space.

The thought of embracing her crosses your mind, but you hold back, clasping your hands behind your back and fidgeting with them instead.

An awkward silence stretches until Uraume shifts.

“Ren.” The corner of their mouth twitches as they speak her name. “I’m glad you’re finally up. You look well rested today.” They turn to you. “My Lady, I’ll leave you. If you need anything, I’ll be in the kitchen.”

You give a faint nod, grateful for the time alone with your attendant.

As they leave in silence, you reach for Sukuna’s cushion, pulling it closer to yours, plopping it down and fluffing it out.

“Please, join me.” You gesture for her to sit. But she looks at you as if you’ve committed some grave offence by disturbing and offering such a thing.

You can’t help but smile as you settle back into your spot.

“It’s fine. It’s just the two of us.” You offer the words as a comfort, not fully realizing their weight. With Sayuri gone, it is truly just the two of you now.

She hesitates but eventually lowers herself down. Her pale eyes remain distant as she settles. Her hands sink into her lap—your gloved ones do the same. When she does get comfortable, her back is so straight that it’s as if the cushion is made out of wood rather than silk.

“I haven’t seen you since that night,” you begin, unsure how to approach the subject. “How are you?” Not being well-versed in comforting others, you soften your voice as much as you can.

Ren eyes you, jaw tightening.

“I’m fine, my Lady—”

“Please, don’t call me that.” She stiffens, and you swallow. “After what happened, there’s no need for formalities.”

She nods weakly.

“What happened… what I did… was done out of duty, my Lad—” she winces.

Your eyes soften.

“It wasn’t just duty,” you say gently. “You stepped in… even though you didn’t have to.”

Her eyes flicker, hands clenching into little fists where they rest on her thighs.

“I did what was necessary. Sayuri… She took things too far. Everything had reached a breaking point, and she just—I should have known better...”

Her voice trails off.

You shift.

“Did you know? Before it happened?” You push your lips together, unable to stop yourself from asking. “Did you know that she harboured such feelings toward me?”

Silence.

Ren straightens, shoulders squared.

Three long heartbeats pass before she finally speaks.

“I… suspected something. Sayuri always seemed close to Master Sukuna, but I didn’t think she would go that far.”

You look at her closely, realizing there’s more to the story.

“You knew.” Your voice is more curious than accusatory. “You knew. And you didn’t say anything.”

Ren’s shoulders start to tremble.

“In the beginning, things were fine when I first arrived here, but not long after… she started twisting things. I felt confused, lost.” She clips. “Then you arrived—I didn’t think she’d actually—” She cuts herself off, exhaling sharply. “I should’ve acted sooner.”

You sit back, absorbing her confession. It all makes sense now—why Ren has kept her distance, always avoiding you. She feels responsible.

“You didn’t know she’d try to kill me.”

“I knew enough—” The words rush out, and there’s nothing but regret there. “I knew enough my Lady… I saw the signs. I should’ve stopped her before it came to that.”

Ren has been more of an enforcer than a companion, but now you can see the cracks and kinks in her once wall—the guilt, the pain of being manipulated by someone consumed by her own dark obsession. An obsession with someone who, in his own way, could drive anyone into a sublime kind of madness.

“You’re one of the reasons I’m still alive, and I’ll forever be in your debt.”

Ren’s shoulders tremble harder this time.

“I let her get too close.” She struggles to keep her composure as her eyes turn glassy. “I let her manipulate me. I let her do this.”

Exhaling, you lean across the cushion and place a gloved hand on her sleeve.

“Ren… it’s over now, all right?” You have to swallow at seeing her like this. “If it’s any consolation, we were both on the receiving end. She stabbed both of us. That practically makes us twins.”

A faint, rueful smile touches your lips, hoping to pull her out of her darkening thoughts.

She nods politely, though her expression is still strained.

“Here.” You rise to your feet, fetch another ceramic cup, and slide it towards her. “I think we both need this.”

You pour her a cup of sake, then sink back into your cushion.

Eyeing her, you lift your cup and take a sip. Ren does the same—

Her lip pulls back into a grimace.

“I’m sorry, my Lady.” She smacks her lips together before covering her mouth with her hand. “This is my first time tasting alcohol. It’s… disgusting.”

You smile.

“You’ve never tasted alcohol before?”

She takes another cautious sip, this time preparing herself for the taste, and nods.

“I grew up in a poorer region of the north. We didn’t have access to many things.” She pauses to consider her words, then takes another sip. “It’s also not something we are offered here either.”

“You’re from the north?”

You take a longer drink, surprised by this. She lived in your father’s domain. The thought of his neglect toward her region makes your skin crawl.

Her eyes lift over the curve of the cup.

“Yes, I am. Same as you.”

Your stomach lurches, and you reach for the sake again.

“We might need more than one cup.”

* * * * *

Halfway through the bottle of sake, the distance between you and Ren closes. Everything feels warm and light—your head, body, even your words. Ren manages to coax a smile from you; in return, you earn a genuine laugh from her.

It’s strange to experience such emotions here, at the shrine. You used to think it was a hellhole. But it’s starting to become beautiful in its own twisted, dark way.

Cups in hand and with alcohol humming through your veins, the two of you slip out into the garden, just beyond the private dining space. It’s a place you rarely visit, if ever.

Standing there, you smell the damp earth, like moss and flowers in peak bloom. Fresh and wild, with a hint of decay on the horizon. 

In your flushed state, you slip your sandals off, letting your bare feet meet the stones of the path beneath. The heat from the afternoon sun warms them, coaxing your body to relax further. There’s only the slightest nip of the approaching autumnal months that hangs in the air.

“You know,” you mumble, weaving through the flowers with a lazy sway. “This garden seems so out of place.”

Ren walks beside you, her face flushed from the alcohol.

Once she started to pour her own cups of sake, you realized she was rather enjoying herself. Her posture is now relaxed and less rigid. A softness taking place.

“Is it?” she muses, lifting a slight shoulder. “Maybe it’s here for that reason. A reminder that not everything in this place has to be hard.”

You hum, moving deeper into the garden, sake in one hand, kimono skirt in the other. The dark, burnt red fabric glints in the sunlight, highlighting accents set in the deep hue of a bellflower at midnight. Its sharp, angular tailoring adds to its elegance. In such a captivating garment, you certainly look the part of the King of Curses' wife.

“I’ve never seen you out here before,” your attendant comments.

You lean in to sniff a plum blossom.

“Well, I don’t usually come here. It feels like a distraction. And distractions aren’t really helpful for me.”

Especially one enormous, malevolent distraction.

Ren chuckles brightly, a lovely sound you aren’t familiar with yet.

“Distractions aren’t always bad, my Lady.” A glance at her, and you see a small, almost mischievous smile making its way across her face. “I mean, look at us. Drinking, wandering through a garden. If you ask me, it’s a nice distraction.”

You manage a soft laugh as the barriers you’ve kept up begin to fall, little by little.

“I suppose.”

You continue to walk, the comfortable quiet interrupted only by the sound of footsteps and the glistening of the nearby pond. Then, as if she’s been weighing her words carefully, Ren speaks again.

“You know… things have changed since you arrived.” She pauses, thinking. “Or maybe it started before.”

You cast her a sidelong glance.

“Such as?”

There’s a beat.

You take a sip of sake.

Ren doesn’t say anything as her eyes drift to wander ahead.

“Master Sukuna.”

That has you standing still.

You're unsure how your arrival has affected the untamable King of Curses.

“How’s he… changed?” you ask, disguising your curiosity with another more prolonged sip.

Ren, too, takes a drink.

“When you saw us with him on the night of your wedding, it had been quite some time since he last requested our company.” She takes a second sip. “That night, he was distracted… agitated.” She takes a third, nearly finishing her cup. “He never sought out Sayuri or myself since that night.”

What?

You blink, wondering if the alcohol is making her words sound like nonsense. But the look she gives you says otherwise. Brows drawn together, apologetic.

“That’s not possible,” you mumble, “I saw Sayuri go to him weeks ago.”

Didn’t she?

Ren shakes her head. 

Suddenly, your kimono feels too tight, the sun too hot, and your gloves more suffocating than ever.

“No. Sayuri told me he has refused her each time.” She pauses—your face tingles. “And I haven’t been with him either. Truthfully, I was never attached to Master Sukuna the way the others were—not in that sense. When the letter from your father arrived months ago, I felt… relieved.”

You down the rest of your sake, feeling it burn all the way to your stomach.

“I’m sure it has nothing to do with me,” you say, walking away.

Ren moves to catch up.

“I’m not so sure about that. He’s watchful around you. It’s subtle, but… it’s there.”

No. Nope.

The stunning late blooms, dripping in soft reds and purples, do little to help you stay grounded while the garden’s path seems to narrow, feeling smaller, more confined.

“You’re imagining things.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you’re pretending that something’s not there.”

You stop walking.

What the hell is this something, anyway?

You turn to face Ren.

“It doesn’t matter. It can’t matter… not really.”

Ren watches carefully.

“Why not, my Lady?” Her words turn too soft for you at this moment.

Why not?

Why not?

Blood roars in your ears.

“Because—”

I must kill him.

Because this is all a lie. Meaningless.

“Because… there’s nothing between us—” You feel like you might be sick. “Because this marriage is nothing more than an arrangement between him and my father.” You circle back along the path, heading toward the private room. “Because they both got what they wanted, and I’m nothing more than a trinket to be bartered off.”

A tool for two powerful, ambitious men. A tool for Sukuna to revel in your clan’s submission and a tool for your father to regain what was taken from him.

You walk faster, leaving your sandals behind. You need food, more sake, something.

“My Lady!” Ren hurries to catch up, but you keep moving, feet carrying you away. “It’s not just the way he looks at you.” She hesitates. “Maybe it’s not about us, your father, or anything else. Master Sukuna is holding back… as if he’s waiting for something.”

“Waiting for what?” you snap, your mind spiralling.

Ren stays silent.

Good. You need this conversation to end, never to be spoken of again. You need things to remain how they are. Distant. In name only. You need to protect yourself.

As you approach the door, you glance over your shoulder at her. There’s a frown on her face that makes you shrink.

“Besides,” you say lightly, trying to diffuse the tension as if this conversation hasn’t just shaken the ground beneath you. You grip the door and slide it open. “We haven’t even consummated this damn union. According to him, I’m too weak. Unfuckable. And that’s fine. I’m more than fine with leaving it at that.”

You step inside, watching as Ren follows, her eyes coasting from you to over your shoulder. That’s when she drops into a deep bow—one filled with respect. One not meant for you.

The King of Curses’ energy cracks across you, hard, right between the shoulders, raising every hair on your body.

Shit, shit, shit.

You turn.

On the cushion you dragged closer to yours sits the four-armed demon himself. He casually eats from your untouched plate of food, pinching a bit of rice and slowly sliding it into his mouth.

Your palms prickle with sweat as his eyes drag from the food to your body, taking in the kimono he gifted you. The bastard doesn’t smirk—at least, not openly—though the way he covers his mouth while chewing hints at some smug amusement.

He chews, swallows.

“Wife.” His voice, so deep, has your body tightening with warmth, urging you to squeeze your thighs together.

What the hell is wrong with you?

The sake. The sake is to blame.

Sukuna leans away from the table, resting his weight on his lower pair of arms. The movement parts the front panels of the dark blue kimono he’s wearing, revealing the slightest expanse of his chest and the black ink on his smooth skin. Your hazy eyes are drawn to the sight.

More warmth pulls into your stomach.

Damnit.

To hide your sudden embarrassment, you bow.

“You’re back.” You fiddle with your silk gloves and the cup in your hand. “It’s nice to see you again, Lord Sukuna.”

Silence.

Your head throbs, your vision swims, and you struggle to focus on the hem of your kimono, trying to push aside the earlier revelations.

“Tch.”

At his dismissive sound, you raise your head, as does Ren.

“Leave,” he orders, waving a lazy hand in your attendant’s direction.

“Yes. Of course, Master.”

Ren seems to know exactly how to act—proper and formal—while you struggle to remember the normal rhythm of breathing.

She places her cup on the side table and moves toward the door. Over Sukuna’s back, she glances at you, shooting you a look that says good luck. As if imparting all that information wasn’t enough. You’re surprised she isn’t grinning at the situation.

“My Lady,” she murmurs, and there it is—her grin.

Damn her.

Ren departs the room with a slight wobble. When the door shuts with a soft thud, it echoes too loudly.

Alone, you slowly turn your attention to Sukuna, who continues to eat from your plate, acting as if you don’t exist in the same room.

“That was interesting,” he drawls, not looking at you. “Bringing up our lack of consummation. Are you trying to embarrass me? Or yourself?”

You scoff.

"It wasn’t like that. I just—"

“You just what?” He cocks his head, voice deceptively soft. “You thought I wouldn’t hear? Or maybe”—he pauses, a cruel smirk cracking his countenance—“you wanted me to hear.”

Heat licks across your face at the acquisition and his capricious mood.

"Of course not," you snap.

Sukuna leans back, relaxing further, no doubt enjoying this little scenario.

“No?” He picks up another piece of food, examining it briefly before popping it into his mouth. “Then why bring it up?” He tilts his head slightly, his eyes trailing lazily over your breasts, then lower. “Unless… you’ve been thinking about it yourself.”

You clench your jaw.

"That’s absurd."

His gaze narrows.

"Is it?" 

“Yes, it is absurd. Besides—” You draw in a breath. “I wasn’t aware you were back. You have a habit of disappearing and reappearing. It’s rather annoying.”

He clicks his tongue.

You step closer, only to stumble a bit, but catch yourself in time. Still, the slight sway in your step doesn’t go unnoticed; his four eyes narrow.

“Annoying, am I? That’s funny, coming from someone in your position.”

You scowl. 

“Yes. Annoying. You’re always so—” You struggle to find the right word. “Elusive. Popping in and out. Coming and going.” Your hands start to gesture in frantic bursts with each word, his eyes following closely. “How am I supposed to keep track of you?”

Stop. Talking.

You wince, tongue loosening far more than it should.

Sukuna’s smirks.

“You make it sound like you’re keeping tabs on me, wife. How sweet.”

You grit your teeth, realizing how he’s twisting your words.

“That’s not what I—”

“Shut up and sit.” His eyes flick to the cushion beside him. "Before you fall on your face and embarrass yourself as you did at our wedding.”

That reminder has your mouth drying out.

“I tripped because you had me wearing that horrid kimono,” you retort, though you did intentionally get drunk to cope with that life-altering day.

“Kimono,” Sukuna snorts, “it wasn’t the fucking kimono.” He slams his upper left elbow on the table, pointing two fingers at you. “You drank an entire bottle of sake. Then that vulture swooped in to pick up the pieces and put his disgusting hands all over you.”

You scoff.

Is that jealousy?

"Nakamura? The man whose head you so graciously removed after he stepped in to help me up?” You take two steps closer. “Besides, you—” You stab a finger in his direction. “—drank all the sake during the ceremony. Then you left with the entire fucking bottle.” Why the hell were you even arguing about this? “That sounds awfully like you were watching me that night. Tell me, dear husband, who’s keeping tabs on whom now?”

You smile sweetly.

His gaze thins, and oh, you can’t describe the pleasure of seeing such a reaction.

He’s annoyed. Irritated.

It’s glorious.

Your smile turns feral.

“Sit. The fuck. Down,” he growls. "Now."

That douses it.

You sit quickly, a bit too heavily, the cushion softening your ungraceful descent. Sukuna’s eyes never leave you, drinking in every clumsy movement.

Tucking your legs back into a kneel, you place the cup on the table and then smooth out your garment, trying to appear proper.

“So, where do you go?” you ask, the lingering effects of the alcohol stoking your curiosity. “When you disappear like that, I mean.”

Sukuna cuts you a look, tilting his head slightly.

“Is that concern I hear?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I just want to know when the peace will be broken again.” You lie. “You leave, and when you return, the air shifts. It's… suffocating,” you whisper as if sharing a secret.

He stares at you.

You stare at him, realizing you’ve been blathering about nonsense. The need to escape his heavy red gaze grows stronger as he remains silent.

But then he moves.

Slowly, his upper left hand reaches toward the plate. Sukuna pinches a bit of fish and rice between his fingertips, giving the task care and devotion. Once he's done, he leans forward, extending his hand to you.

“Eat first.” There’s a manic grin on his face, the tattoos on his cheekbones lifting while his four eyes crinkle, glinting wickedly. “And maybe I’ll indulge your insatiable curiosity about where I go.”

Fuck that look.

Your nostrils flare.

Intoxication paired with the King of Curses can only lead to disaster.

Luckily, your rational side saves you. This scenario feels familiar. So naturally, hesitation slithers in. You tense, gaze honing in on the food poised between his fingertips before glancing up at him.

Something twisted overcomes his features. 

“Open up for me.” His voice is calm as he speaks.

You aren’t quite sure if that order has two meanings.

Still, you don’t budge.

“Wife—” That energy of his starts to make itself known, curling tight around your throat. “—I won’t ask again.”

Swallowing any pride left from this conversation, you lean forward. Your lips part, and you pull the food from his fingertips, letting it slide inside—savoury and salty. Sukuna pulls back but remains close, watching your lips move as you chew and swallow.

“There.” The points of his canines become pronounced. “Good girl.”

You glare.

”Don’t call me that.”

His grin widens, huffing a chuckle.

“Ah, so the brat doesn’t enjoy praise?” He selects a pear slice this time. The fruit becomes lost between his massive fingers. He leans in so his mouth flirts with the crest of your ear. “Would you prefer it if I degraded you? Put you in your place? Which is beneath me,” he murmurs, his voice hot.

Heat pools between your thighs.

He pulls back.

You clear your throat softly.

“No…”

You sound unsure.

“Hm, such a pity and a waste,” he coos, red eyes flaring. “Now—” The pear comes to sit at your bottom lip. “Be a good girl for me again. Open.”

Fuck, this arrogant man will ruin everything.

Licking your lips, you part them. While he gently places the bare fruit on the flat of your tongue, his eyes become hooded. Your mouth closes, tasting it, and his thumb brushes against the curve of your lip before he pulls away—a calculated touch that makes your skin ache with heat.

You chew and swallow.

“There, I did what you asked. Now, are you going to tell me?”

Something noxious pulses in his aura as he regards you.

“Northeast,” he says flatly, leaning back to put distance between you two. He rests his bottom arms out while his upper pair curves to rest on his thighs.

You blink dumbly.

“That's a direction.”

“My, my, aren’t you clever,” he mocks. You roll your eyes, and the corners of his stupid mouth curve in a way that makes it harder for you to look away. “Some of my territory has been raided.”

Raided?

You sit up a little straighter, looking at him—really looking. He’s telling the truth; what reason would he have to lie? And who is brazen enough to invade territory under the King of Curses?

It seems like a death sentence.

That thought makes you wonder about your own situation. If he knew the truth, how quickly would the betrayal have him acting? Immediately? Would he torture you before he’d kill you? Or would there be some hesitation?

Your eyes meet his.

“By who?” you murmur.

It’s rare to get anything from him, and you want more. Any information could be useful.

His lip twitches.

“You know how I feel about nosy creatures.”

“Oh, come on.” You give him a playful smile, eyes wide and innocent. “Tell me.” You tilt your head, exposing your throat, and his eyes skim down it, continuing lower to your chest.

He goes rigid, a scowl overtaking his face. The monster looks at you as if you’ve just affronted him, a heavy furrow settling in his brow.

Your smile withers, act faltering.

Fucking damn him.

Your eyes flit to the plate of food, lingering.

With all the elegance you can muster in your foggy state, you remove one of your gloves and pick up a slice of pear before scooting to the edge of your cushion. Sukuna watches you warily as if you might stab him—which, to be fair, isn’t entirely out of the question. You settle close enough that your knees brush against his shins.

You lean in just a little closer, your hand extending slowly, softly.

“Now you.” Your eyes fall to his mouth—the most rigid part of his face, aside from the mask. “Open.”

He stares at you, his lips drawn into a frown that you doubt you could pry open.

You edge closer, your gloved hand resting on the firm muscle of his calf as you lean your upper body forward.

His eyes narrow.

You tilt your head, angling for a better view of his dual visage.

“Please, my Lord,” you whisper, “allow me to feed you.”

A twitch at his lip—then, finally, he relents.

Your cheeks flush, blooming with colour, and your heart climbs into your throat as he leans in. His hand comes up, fingers anchoring around your wrist, holding it in place. He pulls you closer, your fingertips brushing against his mouth.

Ignoring the desire in his gaze and the way your own lips part, you gently place the fruit onto his tongue. His eyes remain locked on yours, following your every movement like a predator toying with its prey.

Your mind blanks as his mouth closes around your fingers. He takes a slow, wet pull, dragging the fruit from you. His throat and jaw work in tandem, and a low rumble rises from his chest. The sound animalistic, making your core clench.

Time slows, and you expect him to pull away, but the tip of his tongue teases across your fingers, and he only sucks them in deeper.

A scorching flush burns across every part of your body.

Crimson eyes don’t look away; he’s daring you to, but you don’t, even when you’re imagining his tongue tracing every part of your body. Down the underside of your breasts, flicking across your nipples, down further to your thighs, pushing between your folds, which are becoming soaking the more he continues this erotic play of his hot mouth.

You must be mad, or the alcohol is driving your body because you lean in closer, pressing your face near his, your weight sinking into him.

At last, he pulls your damp fingers free. He chews, and a burst of sweet-smelling fruit fills the air. He swallows, his throat working as thick, corded muscles ripple and flex.

A look of bliss swims across his cruel features. His frown softens, his red orbs fall heavy, and his expression grows relaxed, sated.

The room spins away.

Has he always been this beautiful?

You tilt your chin up, closing the space between you, the ripple-like pattern in his eyes becoming painfully clear.

His grip on your wrist tightens, pulling you into him with steady force.

You inhale, breath shaky. He’s calm and entirely focused on you.

Apparently, your stupid, touch-craving body hasn’t caught up with the conflict in your mind, because a dark temptation unfurls—something you’ve never done with anyone, something you never imagined wanting from this demon. You feel the agonizing desire to lean closer, to brush your lips against his. Just to feel your breath mix, to taste him, to experience his mouth on yours.

Yes, sake was a terrible idea.

You dip closer, eyes hooding.

He doesn’t move, but his fingertips press into your skin, beckoning you nearer.

And you do.

His bottom pair of eyes drop to the curve of your mouth while his upper ones stay locked on yours. You shiver.

“Tell me, brat,” he mutters quietly, his pupils widening, darkening. “What do you want?”

Goosebumps pebble the expanse of your body.

Your tongue peeks out to wet your lips. A noise like a guttural purr rolls up from his chest.

Fuck.

“I want…”

He arches his eyebrow, and inclines his chin, waiting for an answer.

Your heart races.

I want you to hold me down. To kiss me… to fuck me.

Instead.

“Who raided your territory?” It’s all your tongue can form.

Somehow, the air leaves the room.

A flicker of annoyance imperceptibly passes over his face, the muscles around his eyes twitching.

“Tch.” The grip he has on your wrist falls away. He leans back, pulling his leg from where your hand still rests, forcing you to retreat. “I told you. I don’t like nosy creatures.”

Your skin prickles, the withdrawal sending a tremble of embarrassment from your neck to your skull.

Sukuna says nothing more before he takes another bite of food, as though your small attempt at playfulness had never happened.

Heartbeats pass in stony silence, both of you shut off from each other, walls rising into place.

Finally, he pushes to his feet.

You look up at him, trying to gauge his mood, but his expression is unreadable, his presence distant, as if he’s already elsewhere.

“I’m leaving again,” he says, eyes meeting yours before pulling away. “But this time, I’ll be gone longer.”

Your irritation spikes; you want to lash out but remind yourself to hold back.

“How long?” you ask, knowing the answer will be vague and unsatisfying.

“A week. Perhaps longer.”

You frown, caught off guard. A week or more?

He takes a step toward the door, his back to you. His hand rests on the door frame, fingers curling against the wood as he prepares to leave. For a moment, he says nothing, and you think that’s the end of it. But just as he’s about to step out, he glances back, unsure.

“At the stables, there’s something waiting for you,” Sukuna mutters, “if you recall what I told you about running away, I expect you to heed that warning.”

Your brow furrows in confusion. You sit up, trying to make sense of his cryptic words.

“My Lord, what do you mean at the stables?”

“You’ll know when you see her. She's yours.”

What?

“Her?”

Before you can press him further, he’s gone, slipping out of the room, and the door slides shut behind him with a quiet thud.

* * * * *

Later, once the alcohol has worn off, you slip out of the shrine and head toward the stables.

A cool wind brushes against your skin, clearing the lingering fog from your mind. You try not to dwell on what happened—or rather, what didn’t happen—between you and Sukuna earlier. At least you only succumbed to the burning need you feel for him, not the nonsense Ren was spouting. For the most part, you managed to keep your guard up.

When you step inside the stables, you’re greeted by the familiar sight of the intimidating warhorses. An empty stall confirms Sukuna’s departure.

You continue to scan the rows of stalls, gliding past the beasts.

Then you see her. 

Tucked at the back.

A mare, sleek and strong, all long legs. Her coat reminds you of snowmelt, with a soft dappling of faded grey. She’s smaller than Sukuna’s mounts but perfect for you.

At the stables, there’s something waiting for you.

For you. She’s yours, and she’s beautiful.

You step closer to the stall.

Where did she come from? How did he acquire her? Or, more so, who did he kill?

You approach until you stand before the elegant creature. She flicks her ears, nostrils flaring to take you in.

You smile.

Then, something falls into place.

Weeks ago, at the beginning of the month, there was the man the King of Curses permitted to live—the one with the family, two children, one on the way—the horse breeder.

Sukuna never did tell you why he let him go…

Turmoil and emotion swell and lodge in your throat, but somehow, a laugh escapes.

“Idiot,” you breathe, swallowing the burning in your chest.

You extend a gloved hand to the mare, but she flinches, huffing softly. She seems skittish, so you take it slow, allowing her to warm up to your presence before stroking her nose.

Eyes drifting, they fall from her to the smooth leather of a bridle and saddle hanging on the wall, clearly meant for her. The craftsmanship resembles Sukuna’s own, but this one is much smaller and has more padding for comfort.

You stare at it, mind racing.

He’s just given you a way out—a horse that can take you anywhere, far away from here—far away from the shrine. Unless you heed his warning, you risk supposedly being torn apart. Would he actually come after you and do such a thing?

You swallow.

Nonetheless, you can leave. You can go home, ensure your sister’s safety now, and inquire why the hell your father has yet to send word here. It will take a three-day ride there and back. If you leave now, there’s a good chance you can outride the King of Curses and his horse. But that’s depending on where he’s gone.

Your hand lingers on the animal’s neck, the warmth of her body grounding you.

You think of your sister.

The mare tosses her head, snuffling.

You slip your hand away and pull the tack from the wall.

It’s decided, one way or another, that today you’re leaving. You’re going home. Then, you’ll return to the shrine as if you never left.

🔗 Chapter 18

[lavellansvh3nan]

A Letter from Dorian Pavus to Inquisitor Lavellan

//OOC//: I’ve always loved Lavellan and Dorian’s friendship. In my Inquisitor’s case, Dorian and Elliana are platonic soulmates, found siblings. The idea that Lavellan leaves for the Fade with no word to her dearest friend, I just know Dorian would be so pissed and so petty. I’ve decided to write a few letters back and forth between them, Elliana in the Fade with Solas and Dorian dealing with the aftermath of all that’s happened.

Enjoy!

Inquisitor,

I want you to know first and foremost, that you are a fucking fool and I’ll never forgive you. How do you think I felt, wiping off all the grim and kaffas from my body and having to hear from that damn witch Morrigan of all people, that you were gone. Spirited away into the Fade with him.

It was humiliating to have to tell the rest of our comrades. Especially Bull. He’s told me for years that given the chance, you’d do whatever it took to be with that..absolute fucking sham of a god and a man I told him there was no possible way you’d give you power over to him again. Guess who lost that bet? Do you know what that’s going to do to his damn ego?

And now, best of all, I get the clean up your mess! Who do you think is going to have to organize the South now that you’ve taken a convenient exit? Did none of this cross your mind, or has going eight years with no sex just completely ruined your rational thought?

*there are several more crossed out words, unusual for Dorian whose letters were always near and precise, just like his spoken tongue*

Ten years. That’s how long I’ve seen you suffer. Do you have any idea what it was like to watch you go through that?

After he’d taken your arm. Told you not to follow him. Threw you aside, because that fucking bastard didn’t think you were worth taking, much less sticking around for. I’d never seen you like that. Silent, despondent. After you gave the Inquisition to the Chantry, when we returned to Skyhold to move our people, it was like you weren’t even there for months.

That one day when you finally rose from bed. I was so relieved, seeing you actually want to leave your room. I was even proud, you know, when you made your way to the rotunda. I thought, this was it, you’d put him behind you, and we’d leave. Leave Skyhold, because that place was a shrine to him. To your time with him.

I wasn’t worried at first when you’d started throwing paint on his walls, destroying what he’d painted. When you flipped the table, took your daggers to his couch, then I grew a bit concerned.

Who cleaned you when you were covered in paint and tears? Who put you to bed again? Who stayed, when he didn’t stay?

Me. Was I not enough?

After that day, I made you promise me that you’d live, and that you’d live well, because we’d both be damned if he take up any more room in your life than he already had. And what do you do instead? You went with him.

No warnings. No explanations. No goodbyes.

When we were getting ready for the final push on Elgar’nan, you knew, didn’t you? That if you saw him again, you would leave us all behind. Leave me behind.

*there is a suspicious circular mark on the page, just beside the previous sentence*

Well, it doesn’t matter. You’ve made your choice. Mine is to retire in Minrathous and see if Iron Bull can behave himself around the Shadow Dragons.

I hope you’re happy.

I don’t know if you’ll even see this. When Morrigan told me there was a chance you would, I figured why not? At least you’ll get to see all that you’re missing. We’ll be just fine without you. It’s your loss, truly. I’m magnificent company, as you are well aware. I give you six months. Maybe less. Time works differently in the Fade, after all.

But if you ever find the Fade dull, or that fucking twit of yours abandons you again, just know I will be looking forward to gloating in person.

I won’t forgive you. I won’t hear your apologies.

With abundant annoyance, disgust, and love,

Dorian