#HES ACTUALLY IN THE SHADOW REALM HES JUST LIKE GONE

[bingobongobonko]

GRANDPA DOWN

[pocketramblr]

Thing is it's got to be about equality- if you add the fs dungeon to Legend's story you gotta add the realm of memory to Four's, which would actually mean he's previously time traveled to two other eras- and would thus recognize the downfall duo's worlds

[prokopetz]

Something I love about The Far Roofs is how much of a swerve its premise is if you're coming to it uninitiated.

Okay, so there's these talking rats with a culture of swashbuckling heroism – basic Redwall/Reepicheep stuff.

Also, there's a magical realm called the Far Roofs which exists above every human community, and that's where the rats go adventuring; a little weird, but you can see the precedents in popular fiction. It's like wainscot fantasy taken to its logical-yet-absurd conclusion.

By default, the game wants you to play as a fictionalised version of your (presumably human!) self and go up onto the Far Roofs to have adventures with the rats. All right, now it's coming together: it's like isekai fantasy meets The Muppet Show, with you as the obligatory human character, right?

Then we get to the nature of those adventures: the rats have this whole culture built around questing against beings they call "the Mysteries" – beasties with names like Harpy and Goblin and Unicorn. So basically it's a bunch of muppety rats on the roofs fighting Dungeons & Dragons monsters, and you go up and help them do it. Great.

And then you get to what the Mysteries are actually like, and... well, I'm going to let the following excerpt carry the weight here. (This particular bit of text also appears in a previously published work by the same author, so I'm not giving anything away that's still under wraps.)

Unicorn, which is named Numinous, dwells three steps away and beyond the world, but most often in the Farthest Roofs, where the Steppes of the Sky come down to touch the Vast and Earthen Court. There it is stepping upwards from the world, as it has always been stepping upwards from the world, caught in a moment of transcendent glory that does not complete. It simply is. Melanthios heard the footsteps of Unicorn. Melanthios heard the ringing of Unicorn’s bells. So Melanthios chased Unicorn off to the Farthest Roofs, and Melanthios did not return. Anton and Karel, who were his sons, were wiser than their father. They heard the bells but they did not follow. Instead, they memorized the scent. They gathered swords, and ropes, and nets, and they went out. They brought food and water and all manner of gear. They clung to the roofs with all four feet wheresoever after Unicorn they went. It proved no good. Anton looked up, and Karel to his brother. The world came down— That’s what Karel said. He had time to look away. He had time to bury his head in his paws. He did not see the fullness of Unicorn’s presence. He only saw Anton his brother become unreal. In the light of the moment of the Unicorn, Anton became as a paper figure in the fire. His reality burned out. His shadow seared into the roofs behind him. Where he’d stood, for just a moment, the Steppes of the Sky came down to touch the Vast and Earthen Court; and Anton was gone away. So Karel ran and Karel ran and Karel ran from the Unicorn; and all his life, he envied but was more fortunate than his brother.

These are gods. You're going up there to kill God.

Like, it's still silly wainscot fantasy with funny talking rats, but there's that tension. It's like if Fraggle Rock occasionally took a hard turn to serious cosmic horror – Lord Dunsany by way of Jim Henson – and that tonal juxtaposition was treated as something unremarkable.

Basically what I'm saying is go back The Far Roofs.

[thenightwolf51]

"Danny was born a Wayne" AU except he's Bruce's grand uncle. The result of a one time drunken affair, shortly before Kenneth Wayne's death, to a young unmarried woman who gave the baby up for adoption.

(Whether the Fenton's, and therefore Amity, were just ahead of their times or the DC timeline is shifted a bit so that DP happens in its cannon era is up to you. Dealers choice, though now that i know about her i just love badass widowed prohibition leader Laura Elizabeth Wayne)

Danny grows up knowing hes adopted and loved by the Fentons but something (dealer's choice) happens and he loses his family and friends (maybe the whole town goes too?). In an attempt to avoid a Dan situation he flees into the Infinite Realm and doesn't stop.

He just wanders, time passes in its weird Realms way, not that Danny truly notices. A protector spirit thats lossed everything it protected. Its a wonder he doesn't fade and he actually might've if it wasn't for his human side.

But its a tug at his core that brings him from his near catatonic wandering. Gone before he can even understand it but enough to shake him back to himself. Enough to know that hes nowhere near ready to go anywhere familiar so he continues on, his wandering no less pointless but at least he's aware again.

What feels like a relatively short time later he gets another tug, and this time he manages to follow it.

He follows it invisibly through a natural portal that drops him somewhere in New Jersey and all the way to a fancy hospital room in the gloomiest city he's ever seen.

In there he sees his half brother Patrick Wayne, though he wont figure out their connection for a few more years, holding little Agatha. She's adorable in her little dress and pigtails and her sweet face causes that familiar tug he recognizes from what must have been six years ago given the girls age.

Then a nurse comes in and hands a little bundle to what must be the mother (whos name i cant find) and Danny takes one look at the little core tugger who brought him here and just melts. Even without knowing yet that this is his last remaining family, his instincts latch on and he vows to protect and care for the Waynes.

And he does.

He finds his forgetful brother's documents and keeps Aggy company when everyone else is busy and soothes baby Thomas so his poor sister-in-law can get some more sleep. He ices fevers and bruised knees and helps on later games of hide and seek.

He very rarely becomes visible and only to the children. His grief over the Fenton's convinces him its better to protect his new family from the shadows.

Danny explores every inch of the manor, including secret passages and an underground cave system. He claims a forgotten room in the back of the attic as his own, which over the years fill up with knickknacks, heirlooms, and pictures of the family. Even a gift or two from Agatha, who hadn't stopped believing in their shadowy guardian like her brother did when Danny felt they were too old to see him without drawing suspicion.

The manor becomes his haunt and he always knows where each family member is within it. And when any guests have some no good intentions.

And when baby Bruce is born tugging at his core and with the bluest little eyes, he welcomes the fussy little thing. And makes sure dear Martha never knows just how fussy baby Bruce really is, otherwise she might've never had a full nights sleep.

Danny blames himself for not being there when Thomas and Martha die, and promises to never leave Bruces side, practically becoming the boy's living shadow. Watching over him as he gets older, secretly aiding him in his training. Danny feels a bit of pride when Bruce takes some inspiration from the old stories Thomas told him of the shadowy Wayne family protector when creating his Batman identity, glad his nephew still remembers him even if he hasn't shown himself since the now young man was six.

Danny continues to protect and care for the family in a variety of ways over the years even as the family grows.

Lightening Alfred's workload, softening Dick's falls, calming Jason's temper both pre and post pit, hiding Tim's coffee when the boy hasn't slept in far too long, providing plenty of shadows and hiding nooks for Cass, helping Damian hide the litter of kittens he found.

And no one seems to know he's there, except maybe Cass and he's pretty sure Alfred has been know since he first started working for the family. No one knows, that is, until Duke Thomas moves in and lookes right at him watching invisibly from the sidelines.

(@omnicrafts @dcxdpdabbles @hdgnj @ailithnight @nelkcats @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 i dont know, the main point of all this is that Danny's been protecting the Wayne family for decades and no one, except maybe Alfred, knew until Duke moved in)

[nightingale-prompts]

Sparing Batboy

First | Previous | Next

"You need to sleep." Bruce put his hand on Dick's shoulder.

Dick ran a hand through his disheveled hair. His eyes were dark from lack of rest.

It had been two days. Two days without a sign of Danny. Not even a glimpse on a street camera or his phone or clothes going missing. He's just gone. Evaporating into thin air.

"I need to find him," Dick said resolutely.

Bruce shook his head and opened his mouth to protest.

"Don't say anything," Dick said through clenched teeth. "You don't get to say anything about what I'm doing. You have done the same thing."

"Dick this is not the time to-"

"I said shut up! If you want to be helpful then go back to looking for him. Otherwise, leave." Dick said before jumping to another rooftop.

Dick knew at the end of the day he knew very little about Danny. He never asked because he knew it clearly hurt him to talk about it. All he needed to know was that Danny needed him. From the moment he first saw that watery smile on that kids face on his face when he invited Danny to eat with him.

Bruce definitely knew by this point that Danny and Batboy were the same. Especially when he asked where his grandson was while they searched. He hadn't said anything else about it. Dick didn't care at this point. I wouldn't change anything.

Part of Dick hated it. He has spent so many years comparing himself to Bruce. Trying not to become him yet still stuck in his shadow. To not repeat his mistakes.

Dick had made his fair share of mistakes and had paid for each one. He had lost so many people either from his own actions or not acting at all.

But what can he do now?

He just wanted to find his son.

He just didn't want to hear what came next. Commissioner Gordon called in with a clue…no it was a message.

A pair of wings splayed to mimic the iconic bat signal on a rooftop. The bloodied wings were severed at the base of the bone.

There were very few villains in Gotham that would do something so violent, fewer that would show off their act so brazenly. This kind of of senseless violence just to anger Batman was the mark of none other than Joker.

Joker had gotten his hands on another member of Dick's family. Flashbacks of Jason and Tim filled his mind.

And something just snapped.

In another part of the city, a certain clown glared at the limp body of the teen.

He had hoped the kid would at least wake up after having his wings cut off but despite his body state he slept soundly. He even had goons try to beat the kid awake but while the blood stayed any injuries disappeared instantly. Metas were a pain in the ass.

In the realm of dreams, Danny was comforted in the arms of the Nocturne. He got to visit his sister and friends in their dreams.

Jazz squeezed the life out of him as she asked him every question she could. Danny tried his best to answer each of them.

"Relax Jazz, I'm fine. I just can't come back. You know how it is. A grand destiny and all that." Danny said.

"But you're still just a kid Danny. You have school and-and-" Jazz said frantically trying to find the words.

"And I'm still going. Clockwork and Nocturne are teaching me everything I need to know until I take the throne." Danny wasn't ready to tell her about his new life.

She didn't need to know that he had a new family. Not when she was what he had to leave behind despite how much it kills him. There wasn't a day he didn't miss her or think of her. Nothing could replace her.

Unaware of this Nocturne and Clockwork watched as Danny dreamed within a dream.

"We should just kill the clown," Nocturne said resolutely as he peered into the material realm.

"You swore not to interfere with the mortals anymore," Clockwork warned.

"I'm not like you, Kronos. I can't sit idly by and watch this happen. I actually care." Nocturne said leveling a glare at the time ghost, his eyes blazing.

"So you care for the boy now? I thought you said you couldn't stand children?" Clockwork smirked his eyebrow raised.

Nocturne huffed shifting the blanket he had laid on Danny to cover him properly.

"I am close to mortals. It is what I am. Children tend to have the most innocent dreams. They have nightmares they don't know how to handle. They are fitful sleepers and cry before they wake. They can't parse dreams from reality. So much care goes into forming their dreams but at the same time, I must scare them. To remind them they should be afraid of the dark. I just can't stand to make them cry and lose those sweet little dreams." Nocturne brushed his clawed hand against Clock's cheek. "I don't understand how you do it. You let them hurt. You know what will happen yet you do nothing."

"It is my purpose. I care but all actions have consequences. I can't weigh the lives of a few for all. I asked you to put the boy to sleep to spare him the pain, at least for now. Had I not, I fear his fate would be darker." Clockwork sighed leaning into Nox's hand.

"Then let's kill that man. I know you want to my love." Nocturne's smiled wickedly eager to return to the living world.

"That is not our role. No, there is another who will come soon." Clockwork said pushing his malicious lover away. "Besides if the boy wakes you know he will undoubtedly cause untold damage. You know how much he hates clowns as is. There will be no coming back from that."

"You say that like it's a bad thing. I would be very proud." Nocturne hummed in delight.

(Am I ever going to run out of bat pics/gifs? Let's hope not.)

(Also gay ghosts dads. You're welcome.)

[bluerosefox]

Gothamites Never Really Rest

Small warning in this: very light swearing, light mentions of deaths, and tw light touching on the subject of abuse, like very light. But still an fyi.

Danny was used to his main Rogues (Boxy, Ember, Skulker, etc etc, you know those guys) showing up randomly and at odd hours, causing some chaos around town due to their own boredom or just wanting some fun (the more deadly ones were rare to show up and his main Rogues do at least respect him enough to give him the rest of the day off when they sense a ‘big bad’ fight), he fights them, wins, before he send them back to the portal. Then they rinse and repeat this for the next day.

So as he really wasn’t expecting, especially since he had just sent his ghostly quota for the day back to the portal a few hours ago (Boxy of course, and Youngblood (dressed as a Firefighter this time, though the ending for their fight actually ended on a good note. YB had been asking Danny about space, Danny kinda hoped YB will be an Astronaut next time cause that would be fun)), Johnny 13 (and Shadow) to phase into his room as he was heading to bed.

Honestly (he groaned when he realized who it was, dealing with Johnny, Kitty (and Shadow) during a ‘break up’ or ‘lovers spat’ always was a pain) he was expecting Johnny to just start attacking but before Danny could demanded to know what he was doing in his room Johnny hesitatingly asked if they could talk.

Now Danny, talking to his main Rogues, like legit talking was a very rare thing. But it has happened a few times.

With Johnny asking if they could talk, his face nervous but not in a 'I pissed off Kitty and idk where she ran off to again', Danny nodded and agreed.

"Hey, so like I know we all kinda agreed not to go roaming too far from Amity because of the whole government suits guys and bringing unwanted attention to us ghosts in the names of the Super Dorks but is it alright if Kitty and I head across the state for a few days? I promise we'll be back and stay under the radar..."

"What?! Why would you guys need to something like that?!"

"....."

"Johnny, look dude I know Amity can get boring sometimes but-"

"Someone killed Kitty's abusive waste of space father three weeks ago, you know that fucker that killed us in cold blood when he found out Kitty and I were enloping. Yeah him. We felt it, we felt him die and... kid I can tell you how our cores SANG about it when he croaked. Whoever ended him, they did so for us. It was a revenge kill... It felt amazing. Its why you havent seen us too, we... we needed time to process that." Johnny quickly explained and that shut any protest Danny had up, he knew a bit of the story how Johnny and Kitty died, and it was respectful to allow one's fellow ghost to talk about their deaths should they talk of it.

With a melancholy smile and a hand petting a chirping Shadow who sprung up to comfort his other half, Johnny then said "Kitty's been avoiding returning to Gotham for ages since we woke up in the Realms and whenever we found a natural portal back to it. She's always been terrified of running into him and even being a ghost she's still can't. But he's gone now, we felt his life end and he isn't a ghost either! Like legit, if he became a ghost we'd still be able to sense our murderer you know!... Anyways she wants to visits her old haunts and maybe see if we can find some old friends, see how they're doing you know. We won't mess with them or anything, just a small pop in..."

"We... We also kinda wanna find the guy who did it too... We could feel his emotions when he ended Kitty's old man and firstly let me tell you, rage. Like a lot of it. But also we felt his need for justice and... he felt familiar... like someone we knew and he knew us. That's how we know it's a revenge kill. Someone did that for us and well.... Kitty and I wanna thank him you know."

-x-x-

Meanwhile in Gotham about three week prior.

A budding Crime Lord had crossed out the face of a older man from a photograph pinned onto a corkboard, below and connected by red strings was two other papers as well. One held the newspaper clipping of two bodies being found in a ditch with the remains of a busted up motorcycle, a young male and female were reportedly found halfway buried in it. The male was reported to be a trouble maker from Crime Alley, knowen for stealing tires while the female was the daughter of a suspected mob boss.

The other string however, lead to a small, yellowed from age and tiny bit damaged photo of three people. The photo held two older, nearly out of their teens, male and female both looking like rough city street kids. A motorcycle could be seen behind them an it was missing a wheel. The young man with blonde hair was kneeling on the ground, his hands holding onto a tire iron and he looked rather proud, the young female was wearing red and had some dye in her hair and was smiling as she held the camera taking the picture in a selfie as best as she could.

In between the two was a young kid, blue eyes and black hair, a beaming smile on his face as his own hands were on top of a tire wheel. A wheel he had finally learned how to take off in record speed thanks to Johnny teaching him.

Green eyes that shifted for a second to teal stared at the photo for a moment before saying

"Hope you both are resting easily now. Kitty, Johnny."

[loucifersbitch]

He feels like he’s being weighed down. Like he’s under water or a heavy blanket. His limbs are heavy, and he can’t get his eyes to open. There’s muffled sound nearby, but he can’t make out anything coherent. He’s also really warm. Uncomfortably so.

Is this what death is like? Is he in Hell? Or something Hell-adjacent? Were all the fire and brimstone idiots he refused to give the time of day actually right about something?

But then the heat is gone and there’s a cool breeze that skims across his skin.

Does he have skin? Do people feel their skin once they’re dead?

He’s still debating with himself as he gets pulled further under.

~***~

What is that annoying, repetitive sound? Did he change his alarm? Why the fuck can’t he turn it off?

~***~

It hurts.

Why does it hurt?

He can’t even tell what hurts, but something fucking hurts.

If he could just open his eyes and get up to take some ibuprofen.

Also his nose itches. Why can’t he fucking scra-

~***~

“Fucking bees.”

~***~

He’s warm again, but it’s not uncomfortable this time. 

He feels safe. And alive. 

He doesn’t feel as weighed down anymore.

It’s difficult, but he cracks his eyes open. He’s - in the hospital? That’s definitely a hospital ceiling and hospital lights and hospital machines beeping.

He turns his head to the left - slowly - and sees his arm is in a giant cast. That explains why he can’t lift it.

He turns his head to the right just as slowly. He’s surprised to see a head of curly hair lying next to his hip, a large hand in his own. 

When he flexes his hand, the curly head pops up immediately.

The man looks at him with bloodshot eyes that clearly haven’t seen sleep in days. He’s young - not alarmingly so but certainly younger than Tommy. The stubble on his jaw has gone far past 5 o’clock shadow and has entered the realm of beard, making him look slightly older. But who -?

“Tommy?” the man asks. His voice is low and raspy, possibly unused.

“Uh,” Tommy says. His own voice sounds even worse.

Without hesitation, the man turns - without letting go of Tommy’s hand - and pours a cup of water from the pitcher on the table next to the bed. Then he brings the cup up to Tommy’s mouth, a bendy straw pointing toward him.

Tommy drinks slowly, his mouth feeling like parchment that’s been left out in the sun too long. 

“Thanks,” he says.

The man sets the cup down and says, “Yeah, so um, h-how do you feel?”

He thinks for a bit, taking stock of himself.

“Sore. Numb in places. I assume they’ve got me on the good stuff?” The man nods, a cute smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “But there’s also the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen sitting next to me, holding my hand. So all told, I’m doing pretty well.”

The tips of the man’s ears turn pink, and a cute blush spreads across his cheeks. Adorable.

“You don’t have to flirt so hard, Tommy. You should know by now, I’m a sure thing.”

Ah, so -

“So we’re,” Tommy gestures vaguely with his head, “together?”

“Uh,” the man laughs uncertainly, “for about six months now, yeah.”

“Oh.” Tommy’s eyebrows shoot up. “But you’re so…” He trails off, not really knowing where he was going with that.

“So…what?” the man prods.

“Take your pick,” Tommy says. “Young? Pretty? Out of my league?”

“Sweetheart.” The man says it like they’ve had this discussion before, but he’s smiling. “Don’t try to amnesia your way out of being with me. I called dibs forever after our second date.”

Tommy smiles lazily. “Dibs forever, huh?”

“Yep. You’re stuck with me.”

Humming as if he’s considering the pros and cons, Tommy finally says, “I guess I can live with that.”

The man’s smile is blinding. “Evan,” he says. “Evan Buckley. In case you forgot.”

It comes back to him then - a cruise ship rescue in the middle of a hurricane, a basketball game, a kiss, a first date that ended terribly, more dates that ended perfectly, slow dancing in the kitchen, long nights together that ended too soon. A call during a bad storm, total engine failure, glass and fear and rain and acceptance and trees and blue eyes and a smile like warm sunshine.

“Evan,” Tommy says, pulling him closer. “Baby.” He kisses him softly. “I love you more than anything. How could I forget?”

Evan has tears in his eyes and leans their foreheads together when he says, “Don’t ever do that again. I thought I lost you.”

“I’m so sorry, baby. I thought so, too. I thought I’d never get to see you again. I’m so sorry.”

The next kiss is wet with tears - Evan’s or his own, it doesn’t matter. They’re here, and they’re both okay, and they’re together. That’s all that matters.

“I love you, too, by the way,” Evan says once they pull apart. “Can’t believe you waited to tell me until after you almost died, but I’ll take it.”

“I’ll say it every day until I actually die, okay?” he says. He gets a smack to his good shoulder for his effort, but they’re smiling too hard for it to have any weight.

There’s a long road ahead with recovery and therapy and stubbornness and frustration, but they’ve got this. They’ll get through it all. 

Together.

part 1

part 2

part 3

also now on ao3!

[lilacxquartz]

my fanfic master list

hi — i’m lilac_quartz on ao3, i write mostly dark yandere but i also write a lot of other stuff in between. a lot of the content i post is nsfw. dark content is appropriately warned both in the list and in the post. most links lead to ao3, but recent uploads link to tumblr.

wanna read a series on tumblr? check out my chapter directory.

attack on titan

levi ackerman:

bitter tea leaves — dark abduction story, split pov, noncon warning

a brew so bitter — rewrite of the above, one sided pov, noncon warning

the walls of delusion — non explicit yandere

glimpses of shadows — abduction story with levi, noncon warning

power imbalance — you violated the dress code again, one shot, dubcon warning

vinland saga

askeladd:

forged through iron — adventure story set in vinland saga where you find freedom with askeladd, violence warning because vikings

jujutsu kaisen

choso:

bleed into me — a vampire finds you interesting

to desire — two little smut shorts

blood rush — a vampire sends you in for a time loop nightmare, noncon warning

first impressions — soft yandere choso wants to protect you

blur into you — choso smut

breeding kink — choso smut

shoko ieiri

please, don’t go — yandere shoko is tired of her friends dying, dubcon warning

love bites — shoko smut

so desperate for you — shoko smut

shower — shoko smut

pretty little trinket — while lost at sea following a shipwreck, you are saved by a strange bird-like creature

shoko ieiri & suguru geto:

guided affections — poly smut

satoru gojo:

a deal with a demon — an incubus proposes a deal

blessed with blue — biblically accurate satoru gojo in a mythical world sets his sights on you, warning for noncon and body horror

rivals — satoru gojo gets rid of his rival but also keeps them close, noncon warning

first times — gojo smut

speechless — gojo smut

suguru geto:

blood thicker than honey — geto is into you but you both come from non-sorcerer lineages, a little character study on the what ifs

you leave me so breathless — geto smut

to save a broken soul — geto finds you, a cursed spirit wandering around, his hatred for you is at war with his curiosity for you, noncon warning, violence warning

satoru gojo & suguru geto

those late summer nights (ongoing) — taking a teaching job in tokyo might have ruined your life, yandere geto and gojo fic, warning for noncon

roommates — gojo and geto smut, dubcon warning

free use — gojo and geto smut

on display — geto smut but gojo watches

kenjaku:

sentimental — you woke up with your memories gone and the idea that the geto you used to know, hurt you which makes this impostor all the more confusing. noncon warning

don’t make me feel alive — on the verge of death from an illness that was destroying you, you’re saved by a strange man with stitches on his forehead, noncon warning

betrayal — prison realm yandere imagine

chasing humanity (ongoing) — mundane au, serial killer kenjaku who searches for the meaning of life finds himself burdened with you, romance fic, but also lots of violence

uncanny valley — kenjaku claims they can make anyone see cursed spirits, violence warning, character study fic

medical exam — nurse kenjaku smut

using you — kenjaku smut

giving brain — kenjaku smut with the brain

under his authority — as you run from your stalker, he turns the tables on you in an unexpected way. dubcon warning.

mahito:

a sight for sore eyes — blinded from an accident, you begin to suspect your boyfriend isn’t actually your boyfriend, yandere mahito fic

seeing triple — mahito smut

hanami:

roots — hanami smut

sukuna:

untouched — uh oh, you’re on the menu. noncon and death warning.

fem!kuna milking — fem!kuna smut

double penetration — sukuna smut

kento nanami:

flustered by you — nanami smut

generalised:

choso’s accidental daycare — choso has a lot of responsibilities but he’s also just one guy, wholesome fic, fluff

board games — unc!kuna has babysitting duty much to his dismay, wholesome fic, fluff

toji fushiguro:

eat you up — toji smut

pregnancy woes — pregnancy fluff

period sex — toji smut

generalised x reader drabbles:

jujutsu kaisen scenario drabbles x reader

lilac’s bite sized yandere nightmares (ongoing)

chainsaw man

makima:

obey — makima smut, dubcon warning

pegging — makima smut

death note

L:

voyeurism — unknown to you, a stalker has been watching you all along, general warning

mob psycho 100

generalised:

not feline right — the three pick up a job at a haunted cat cafe, wholesome fic, crack and fluff

sousou no frieren

fern & stark:

the fox & the raven — fern tries to practice a spell, stark is the victim, fluff

frieren x himmel:

from the beyond, with love — character study on not losing hope

howl’s moving castle

sophie x howl:

howl’s moving floristry — a short wholesome imagine

stardew valley

maru:

gravity — maru has a unique birthday present for you, fluff, wholesome

haley:

the sun didn’t shine until you came along — despite finding success in the city as a model, life didn’t really click until haley met you

baldur’s gate

lae’zel x shadowheart:

when the stars align — shadowheart reads lae’zel’s future

karlach x shadowheart:

portraits — karlach feels insecure about herself and shadowheart makes her feel like a work of art

shadowheart:

worship you — yandere dark urge reader can’t quite let go of shadowheart

sovereign spaw:

mushrooms — spaw smut

lae’zel:

mirrors — lae’zel smut

silent hill

pyramid head:

trapped — pyramid head smut, noncon warning

gravity falls

bill cipher:

dreams — bill has a hard time letting you go so he teaches you a lesson, noncon warning

homicipher

mr. crawling:

love you, love you, love you — mr. crawling smut

mr. gap:

from the shadows — yandere mr. gap imagine

crossovers

noroi: the curse x jujutsu kaisen — requested horror crossover

jjk x rec — found footage imagine with satosugu and shokohime

jjk x from — horror mahito crossover imagine

mob psycho 100 x jujutsu kaisen — gojo finds he has competition with the world’s greatest psychic and it goes exactly as you would expect, humour, fluff, crack fic.

other

sicktember 2024 (jjk general & x reader)

kinktober 2024 (multi fandom)

flufftober 2024 (kenjaku x takaba)

[themissinghand]

aahghh i'm happy that your requests r open :33 i want to ask for a Jinwoo x sleepy male/gn reader.. basically the reader falls asleep somewhere but always wake up in the most random places. Bellion has found them sleeping somewhere in the shadow realm more than once and no one knows how they got there. it's actually concerning-

this can either platonic or romantic idc rly

take care!

Solo Leveling: Sleepy Bois are Cute Too!

Summary: 3 times that Jinwoo caught his partner falling asleep on him, and the one time he didn’t. Not in any particular order.

In which Jinwoo is worried, but you reassure him every time. 

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo x sleepy GN! reader

Note: Last one for 2023! Will be back in the new year :) 

Warning: None. Just fluffy goodness. 

★・・・・・・★

Jinwoo is worried about your sleeping antics.

He’s worried that when you fall asleep, he will never find you again. 

He took all the precautions, making sure there was a shadow soldier by your side when you fall asleep, keeping a tracker on you (with your consent of course!), and even taking you on his missions to ensure you don’t disappear on him. 

“Jinwoo-ah, don’t worry, I can protect myself.” 

Sure, you were an A-class weapon maker, and yes, you knew how to use your weapons well, but no matter how much you reassure him, Jinwoo is a protective person by nature, knowing how dangerous the world can be. 

He also knows how dedicated you are to your craft, spending days on end without sleep or food to create S-class grade weapons for the world to marvel at. 

But it was only more of a reason for him to protect you from those greedy hunters and associations! 

Perhaps that was where your sleeping habits stem from, the lack of sleep.

It didn’t start off this way, as at the beginning of your relationship, Jinwoo found you cute for dozing off like a baby. 

It was during a movie night, where the two of you cuddled on the bed, and holding each others’ hands. You dozed off very shortly after the movie began, and Jinwoo couldn’t help but pull you closer into a hug. 

Loving your warmth and the peace you bring, Jinwoo easily fell asleep by your side. 

Only to wake up with you not by his side. 

In panic, he rushed around the shared home to find you, only to get a call from his sister, and see you at his mom’s house. Apparently, Jinah found you sleeping in Jinwoo’s old room.

“It happens sometimes…but don’t worry! I’m usually safe.” Your reassurance didn’t make Jinwoo feel any better about it. 

The next time, it was when the two of you were bathing together. 

Jinwoo hummed, satisfied and relaxed, as you washed his hair, scratched his head, and massaged his shoulders. Your voice was soothing, as you told him about your next weapon idea. 

Until suddenly, he felt a hard knock onto his back, making him turn around quickly to see you dozing off. 

He withheld a snicker before he switched your positions, and had you lay on him. 

“(Y/N), how could you sleep in the middle of doing something?” Jinwoo whispered, and although he gently rocked your body, he didn’t bother trying to wake you. 

Jinwoo made sure you were comfortable, and finished the bath, before carrying you like a princess to your shared bed. 

“Jinwoo?” Your slurred words made him smile, and he placed a kiss on your forehead. 

“Bedtime, your favourite time is here.” 

“Yay~” Your dopey smile made him happy as he covered the both of you with a blanket. Jinwoo snuggled close, and this time, made sure to hold you tight, so you wouldn’t disappear on him again. 

Your little snores, and light breathing lured him to sleep. 

The next day, you were gone. 

This time, he searched the home, and even checked with his mom and sister, but nothing. 

This time, he panicked, and immediately searched everywhere for you. 

Like a parent who lost their child, he searched far and wide, until he found you sleeping on top of the Korean Hunters Association’s building. He immediately hugged you close, waking you up from your drowsy state. 

“Jinwoo? What’s wrong?” You who have just woken up from your long sleep didn’t understand why Jinwoo was hugging you so desperately. You patted his back as you rested your head on his shoulder. 

“Are you okay? How did you even get up here?” 

“What are you talking about-” Finally registering your current location, you were shocked. 

“This isn’t our home.” 

When Jinwoo registered your confusion, then acceptance (almost too easily), he couldn’t help but feel helpless. If you didn’t know how you got here, and he didn’t sense your disappearance twice in a row, Jinwoo knew he had to be careful. 

This was when you and him talked of the dangers and of the precautions you should take to ensure your safety. 

One time, Jinwoo had a nightmare. 

Of the times where he was still an E-class hunter, where he was still weak, poor, and helpless. 

Of the times where he had nothing to his name, but only shame and disappointment. 

He felt powerless, feeling the shadow of a cold blade cutting into his flesh and warm blood spill from his body. 

“Jinwoo!” 

He woke up to you calling his name and wiping his face. 

“Jinwoo! Are you okay-” Jinwoo hugged you tightly, knocking the air out of your lungs for a moment, as he inhaled your scent. 

He then noticed you wearing his hoodie, clearly oversized for you, and your messy bed hair. 

Then he remembers you, who had taught him how to use different weapons, and how to not get scammed by weapon dealers. 

From then till now, you have supported him, and he has found your talent in return. 

“There there, my little king.” Jinwoo smiled as he felt little pats to his back, and kissed the crook of your neck. 

“Thank you, (Y/N).”

“Always.” 

The next time, when you disappeared, Jinwoo knew where you were immediately. 

He didn’t panic, nor did he fret, though this time, he really did question your abilities as an A-class weapon maker. 

Were you really an A-class hunter at this point?

Jinwoo observed, perplexed, as you once again emerged from an unexpected slumber, this time in the shadow realm. 

With a yawn, you flipped to the other side on the throne, and without any sense of danger, you curlled into a ball, and fell asleep again.

Jinwoo quickly went over to you on the throne, and picked you up, before sitting down and placing you in his lap. He made sure you were comfortable before he looked to Bellion for any explanation. 

“My Liege, I…have no excuses. I was unable to sense any changes in the shadow realm and was unable to find out how Their Highness was able to arrive here.” 

Bellion, equally puzzled, knelt before the two of you, ashamed. 

“Bellion, stand. It’s not your fault. Even I can't sense when they disappear. But keep others updated on the situation.” Bellion nodded, before standing and leaving you two space. 

"How does this keep happening?" Jinwoo asked, and sighed, concern etching onto his face. Even so, he caressed your cheek, and woke you from your slumber.

Like a cat, he saw you scrunch up your face, and even pushed his finger away, before popping open one eye.

“Jinwoo? Where am I now?” It became a habit of yours now to observe your surroundings every time you woke up. 

“In my realm, in my castle, and on my throne.” 

“Huh.” It took a moment for you to process.

“How did I get here?” 

“No idea. But I'd rather have you here than outside.” 

“Well. This is new.” You ruffled your messy bed hair, before a hand pulled your chin back to face Jinwoo. 

“You were sleeping on my throne…were you thinking of me?” Jinwoo’s hand slowly cradled your face as he stared at you with intent. 

“Maybe?” You cheekily answered, before replicating the same action back. However, you steal a quick little peck to the corner of his lips. 

In the next moment, his mouth lands on yours passionately, completely taking your breath away as he pulls you in further and further, until you’re completely at his mercy.

Pinned to his throne, wearing his oversized black silk pajamas, and puffy lips, you realize that maybe you should learn to control your sleep antics. 

[wild-typo-turtle]

Threads - Part 11

Explicit (slow burn, 18+ only) - Rings of Power - Gil-galad x OFC (Elf)

Includes S2E8 of Rings of Power - spoilers ahoy!

Gil-galad had only taken a handful of steps when his gaze passed over yet another collapsed building. From the looks of things, it had once been an open, airy shop that had faced directly into the plaza. The roof had caved in, creating dusty shadows, and even his keen eyes might have missed the slumped figure had he not heard the tiny whimper from the darkness.

Eregion has been destroyed; Sauron is gone. And yet, the sun still shines, as the ruined city holds the last thing that High King Gil-galad had ever expected to find.

Themes: #Idiots in love, #love at first sight, #soulmates, #smut with feelings, #fix-it, #everybody lives

Content Warnings: Explicit content (parts 9 and 11), canon-typical violence; loss of parents; grief/mourning. This chapter also contains very light smut.

Tag List: @morganas-pendragons, @stellar-solar-flare, @the141bandicoot; @inyx-writes44, @melmel-fandom, @hufflepufferine, @shadows-and-flowers, @xcrybaby555x, @bespectacledhuman

Face claim: Keri Russell as Linnea

Part 1 (includes A/N and credits), Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9 (contains smut), Part 10

A/N: Well, I'm sorry everyone - I know I promised the wedding for the next chapter, but the file hit 10k and the flow was terrible, and so the first part is what you're getting now. I still plan to get the actual wedding out this week, likely Friday or Saturday! Thanks for your patience and I hope you enjoy this chapter. -WTT

Part 11

The afternoon sun bathed the weaving room, painting it in shades of soft, hazy pink and gold. The fabrics on the looms shone in the light; Linnea was working a white velvet on the velvet loom, and on the regular loom, she was just beginning a new test fabric in shades of grey. The sunlight turned it brighter, almost purple; she was mixing linen and wool for a soft, easy drape. And if she was successful with the charms she had planned, it would be a pattern she would share with the weavers that helped clothe the army.  

Her eyes anxiously passed over it. Her hands, idle now, twitched to work, to let out the nervous energy that filled her.

But this day was not a day for weaving.

Adabes and the servants had done their work well. All was in readiness; a sideboard had been moved into the room, and was laid with fruit and bread and cheese and various other refreshments. Wine had been set out, as well as water flavored with mint and lemon. The weaving room itself was immaculately clean, all of the tools and supplies neatly put away, all of the scraps of fabric and ends of threads swept up. 

A book sat on the table next to her, but she barely recalled the title. She had brought it to distract herself while she waited, but she might as well not have taken the trouble. There was no distraction possible.

Fortunately, she did not have to wait for long.

A stamp on the landing alerted her to the first of the arrivals, and her ears strained for a hint as to who it might be. She heard heavy boots, grunts - 

A fist thumped on the door, and it swung inward.

“The Princess Disa, of the Dwarven realm of Khazad-dûm.”

Linnea rose, and as she did so, the princess stepped into the weaving room. 

She was dressed in light grey, a silken fabric that flowed around her figure and draped in a way that made Linnea want to examine the weaving much more closely. And there was gold upon her everywhere: a heavy gold pectoral necklace with triangular pendants dangling from it, as well as gold bracelets, gold beads upon her gown, and even gold paint staining her thick dark hair and her fingers.  

Linnea wondered if such a thing had ever happened before. Disa’s husband, Prince Durin, had met and treated with Gil-galad. But had there ever been a meeting of an Elven queen and a Dwarf princess? If there had, it had surely been hundreds of years ago.

Disa stopped after a few steps, and she curtseyed deeply as the door shut behind her. 

“Lady Linnea,” she said. “On behalf of all Khazad-dûm, I thank you for welcoming me into your halls.”

It had been a careful plan that they had made together, herself and Gil-galad, debating various strategies for how they might receive the most important of their guests. They had considered a more formal dinner for this last night before the wedding, but had eventually settled on separate, more casual affairs, Linnea with the women and Gil-galad with the men. Even now, he was likely greeting Prince Durin, as well as the Elven lords that had also arrived in the last two days.

She supposed she should be grateful that there were fewer women for her to manage. Oropher had brought his queen, and his son had come as well, but Thranduil was not yet wed. And the lord of Lórien’s wife had perished some time ago. She had extended the invitation to Commander Galadriel, and to the commander of the Eastern Armies as well, but all told, she would not be working as hard as Gil-galad.

And with that thought, part of her regretted the other decision that they had made concerning that evening.  

She would not go to him that night. They would not take their tea together; they would not discuss their days; there would be no shared pleasure. They would stay and sleep apart, this final night. They would rise separately and prepare for the wedding, and only once they were ready would they see each other again.  

She knew her bed would feel empty without him. It had been easy to grow accustomed to his warmth next to her, the sound of his soft breath as he slept. But it added weight, if any needed to be added, that this was the very last night she would sleep alone. 

And besides that, it was probably a good idea to stay apart, after what had happened the previous night. After how near she had come to be standing there, greeting the Princess Disa, as a married woman. 

It is the second time Ereinion has done this. The first had had her nearly cracking her own spine in half at the feel of his tongue between her legs. And while that first time had been pleasurable beyond belief, it is even better now; with repetition comes perfection, and she lies there moaning and incoherent as he tastes her. Her slender legs are over his broad shoulders and his hand teases, two fingers slowly slipping in and out of her in rhythm with his lips and tongue. 

And once she’s had her pleasure, he slides up her body for a deep kiss. Neither of them is wearing much at all, and he’s on top of her, and her thighs are tight around his hips, and it would be so easy. 

So easy.

He looks into her eyes, and a word from her would shatter his resolve - what is left of it. She looks back at him, and a word from him would shatter hers.

And perhaps that knowing, that unwillingness to speak it but willingness to accept it, is what stops them in the end. What has him rolling off of her, wrapping trembling arms around her trembling self, holding her until the fire ebbs a little and they both have their breath back.  

It is not much longer to wait. 

She drew in a breath, and made her own curtsey to Disa, whose eyes widened at the movement. 

“Princess,” Linnea murmured. “You are most welcome, and I thank you for gracing my hall with your company.”

As they took each other's measure, she found that she liked the look of this Disa. Elrond had returned late last night, with Disa and Durin accompanying him; this was the first sight Linnea had had of the Dwarf princess. She had met more Dwarves than most Elves, due to the merchants that had frequented Eregion, and their ways were not so strange to her. There was a strength about the princess that ran as deep as the mountain she called home; she could be a formidable ally, if the seeds that Linnea was planting eventually bore fruit.

Disa smiled, folding her hands in front of her. “My husband may have made his grand protests, but he understood the honor you showed us with the invitation. If he'd kept saying no, I would have dragged him here by his beard. And he would have thanked me for it in the end.”

Linnea laughed; the words conjured an image of herself doing the same with Gil-galad, only by his hair. She wasn't at all sure she'd win that fight, although it might be rather amusing to attempt it.

“Please,” she urged. “Help yourself to refreshment, if you like. I am sure you must be tired from the journey.”

Disa needed no further encouragement. She made her way to the sideboard, looking appreciatively at the array of food that was laid out. “We did keep a fast pace. No time to spare, to get here in time. And we'll be needing to head home again as soon as the wedding is over.”

Linnea nodded. She could guess the reasoning behind it, the maneuvering for the throne that they had heard whispers of even in Lindon. Gil-galad’s thought to use their wedding as a message, inviting the prince and throwing their support behind the candidate most friendly to Elves, had been a sound one. Part of her disliked that they had to consider such things, but the rest of her knew that that was the life she had chosen. Almost everything would be political now.

“Then I shall do everything I can to ensure you enjoy your time here,” she said, smiling as Disa took a plate and began heaping it full. 

“You've certainly made a good start,” the princess said, popping a piece of cheese in her mouth. “A full stomach goes a long way to ensuring a smooth road.” 

Linnea chuckled again. Now that this first greeting was over, her nervousness was beginning to settle down, and she felt confident enough to join Disa at the sideboard and pour herself a glass of wine. She watched as the princess turned, starting to glance around the room even as she ate, and her heart fluttered with pride at the look on Disa’s face. The Dwarf woman was impressed. 

Her eyes landed on the frame loom, and she let out a satisfied sound. “I knew I'd like you when Elrond said you were a weaver,” she said, beginning to walk to the loom. “Do ye know what it's going to be yet?”

Linnea nodded, walking over to join Disa at the loom. “If all goes well, it will become the pattern for a cloak for Lindon's armies. It is something my mother was very gifted at - laying protective charms on the threads. I learned much from her.”

Disa's brows lifted, and the impressed look was back on her face. “I thought I could feel something from it. There's a sort of vibration, isn't there?”

Linnea knew that other Elves could feel the art to varying degrees, depending on their sensitivity. Most would have at least a feeling of safety and protection. But to actually sense the charms at work? She could do it, especially if it was the art of someone she knew well, like her mother and father. So could other weavers. But a Dwarf? 

She groped for words, stunned almost beyond speech. “How is it you can feel it?” she managed. 

Disa smiled, satisfied to be affirmed. “We Stone Singers use our voices to resonate with the mountain that is our home. Aulë granted us the gift to sing to the rock so that we may take from it properly and know where best to leave it undisturbed. This fabric has a song of its own, for those with the ear to hear it.”

A thousand questions leapt to Linnea's mind. If she had had her way, she would have spent every moment until the wedding the next day interrogating Disa about what exactly a Stone Singer was and what resonating meant. A fancy crossed her thoughts of arranging a visit to Khazad-dûm; the logistics and politics of an Elven queen visiting the Dwarves were second to wanting to witness this stone singing for herself. 

But then Disa hummed.

Linnea felt the fabric come to life at the sound, as brief as it was. The charms she had laid so far were subtle, more experimentation than anything else. But at the sound of Disa’s voice, the intensity increased tenfold; she could feel the faint protections even without touching the fabric. The magic radiated off the cloth, rolling off it in waves. 

Disa’s eyes had gone wide. She could feel it too.

All thoughts of propriety fled from Linnea’s head. She rushed to the loom, laying her hands on the fabric, the better to feel what was happening. 

“Forgive me, my lady,” Disa was stammering. “I did not know - “

“No.” Linnea was running her hands over the cloth, only half-hearing. “No, do that again…please…”

Disa hesitated, but finally did as asked. She hummed again, louder that time, and there was more effort behind it. The hum had dimension, and the fabric responded accordingly; it was like sunlight striking a piece of crystal, scattering rainbows in all different directions. 

She couldn’t help the smile, the grin that came to her lips, as the hum faded. She turned to Disa standing next to her, and the look between them transcended any and all difference between Elf and Dwarf.

There was another strike upon the door.

“Queen Tinnaril, of the Woodland Realm.”

Linnea straightened up, trying to calm her expression. The weaver in her grumbled at the interruption, wanting to ask Disa to hum again, perhaps even sing - and the rest of her laughed at that part, that she could even think of wanting a queen to leave her alone.

But she was a queen now, too. Or would be, by this same time tomorrow.

Tinnaril came through the door, her face betraying nothing of her thoughts - not even when she saw Disa standing by Linnea’s side at the loom. The queen of the Greenwood was of a height with Linnea herself; they were Sindar kin, smaller and shorter than their Noldor brethren. Tinnaril’s hair was icy blonde, the same as both her husband and her son, and her leaf-green eyes were shuttered as they swept about the room.

She was clad plainly. Oropher had desired to live a simpler existence than the rest of the Sindar and the Noldor, and his followers had merged with the Silvan elves of the Greenwood many years ago. Tinnaril’s gown was a sage green fabric, without embroidery or jewels; the cut fit her well, and she wore a filigreed silver circlet, but otherwise there was nothing to suggest that she was royalty.

Linnea had known such, and had dressed carefully for the day so as not to make Tinnaril feel uncomfortable or annoyed. Her gown was one of the simplest she owned now, a dusky lavender with only a small amount of gold detailing around the cuffs and the neck, and she had bade Pendes forgo any jewels in her hair. The only concession she had made to ornament was the thin gold circlet tucked in her curls.

Tinnaril had stopped a few steps from the door, and she carefully folded her hands in front of her. “Forgive me for the interruption,” she said, her voice even and calm. “I was unaware you were occupied, Lady Linnea.”

“No - of course not, you do not interrupt.” Linnea moved away from the loom, extending her hands. “Be welcome, my lady. And thank you for making the journey.”

Slowly, Tinnaril took the offered greeting. Her hands were cool and smooth in Linnea’s; she squeezed for precisely the correct amount of time, and then released.

Oropher and Tinnaril had arrived two days ago, and since then, Tinnaril had kept to herself. Linnea had sent messages of welcome, invitations to meet, but all of them had gone unanswered save this one. She wondered if Tinnaril had only come now out of a feeling of obligation. She had asked Gil-galad to tell her of the queen, that she might know what to expect, but he had had as little to offer as Arondir all those months ago.

I am sorry, melethel. I have met her seldom, and she spoke but few words. She lives apart from court. 

Linnea had known that from Arondir, but had still shaken her head in amazement, wondering how such could be. She could not imagine wanting to live apart from Gil-galad, and he had smiled when she had said so.

Nor I you. May the Valar grant that it is always so between us, my love.

Tinnaril was still standing there just looking at her, and Linnea fumbled for words. “Queen Tinnaril, this is Princess Disa, of Khazad-dûm. She and her husband Prince Durin are great friends of Lord Elrond.”

“I see.” 

Disa made another curtsey - although Linnea noticed that it was much shallower than the one the princess had given to her. “Your Grace.”

Tinnaril raised one thin blonde brow, making no move to return any sort of gesture, and Linnea fought the urge to gulp. There had been conflict between Oropher’s people and the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm; Oropher had moved his rule ever northward to avoid the expansion of the Dwarf realm. Linnea had counted on the goodwill of the wedding keeping things civil - as indeed it had, with helping to mend the rift between Durin and Elrond after Eregion.

Perhaps this had been too much to ask, as she beheld the chill in Tinnaril’s eyes. But on the other hand, she wasn’t leaving. 

“Do you practice a craft, my lady?” she asked, desperately trying to find words to fill the silence. “I believe you are aware I am a weaver. Princess Disa and I were just speaking of her art as well - she is what the Dwarves call a Stone Singer. I was not familiar with such.“

Disa nodded eagerly; clearly she felt the tension in the room as much as Linnea did. For a moment, Linnea appreciated the ludicrousness of the situation; she was more allied with a Dwarf princess than a queen of her own kind. 

“It isn’t spoken of much outside of our own people,” Disa said. “The work of the Stone Singers is sacred. We safeguard the mountain, and in return, it allows us to call it our home.”

Tinnaril’s lip curled slightly. “Your work has borne fruit, it would seem. We hear the ceaseless noise of Khazad-dûm throughout the Woodland Realm.”

Linnea’s throat tightened again, and her heart sank. Gil-galad had been working so hard to forge an alliance with Oropher; the Woodland Elves were proud and distant, those ties were as fragile as the finest-spun silk. This couldn’t be helping matters at all; for all she knew, she was not just breaking those thin threads but setting them aflame.

She had been shocked before. She had spent most of the last months in a state of disbelief. But what Tinnaril did next outstripped it all.

The Woodland queen turned, and Linnea's heart sank even further; she hadn’t thought that that was possible. She could feel Disa’s worried eyes on her as Tinnaril walked back towards the door, and she tried to think of something to say, anything - 

Tinnaril swung the door open, and she leaned out to catch the attention of the guards outside.

“Send to my rooms,” she commanded. “Fetch my harp. The brown leather case, near the hearth.”

Linnea stared. Disa stared.

The door swung closed again, and Tinnaril turned back to face them.

“I have lived with Dwarven noise all my days,” she said firmly. “If I must continue to be subjected to it, I would know whether there is any pleasantry to be had. My craft is my music, Lady Linnea, and if the princess consents to it, we shall make some together.”

Linnea turned slowly to Disa, who looked as stunned as she herself felt. The princess could not manage words; she simply nodded. 

Tinnaril’s lip curled again. But this time, there was warmth to it.

“Very well.”

It was long hours later when Linnea finally sat at her dressing table, letting Pendes comb out her hair. 

They had indeed made music. She herself could sing well enough, although nothing compared to Disa, but had no skill with an instrument. And so she had been content to watch and listen, and weave a little, as the queen and the princess had passed the hours in song. Galadriel had come by, as well as a few others, and they had enjoyed the music and refreshments. But none had remained for very long. 

It had reminded her of her parents’ shop, on those occasions when they had hosted musicians. The fabrics had seemed to weave themselves of their own accord, with the distraction of the melodies. And Taucion had had a fine voice; he had often sung along as they worked. 

The memories still hurt, a little. But they also reminded her - as had the afternoon - that she had the opportunity to make new memories. She could invite singers and musicians to her rooms, to spend the afternoon with the weavers.  

Pendes finished and bowed, and Linnea turned. Lavan was just coming in from her nightly circuit of Linnea's rooms, and she shifted to be able to look at them both.

“Is all ready for the morning?”

Lavan nodded. “Yes, my lady. We will arrive at the normal hour.”

The feast was set to begin at midday; her normal rising time would be ample to prepare. Her dress was hung carefully to air out, and really, there was little enough to do that was not part of her regular routine. 

She smiled at Lavan. “Very well. Then I bid you both goodnight.”

They bowed and left, and Linnea rose from the dressing table, slowly wandering back into the main room. It would be early to retire to bed, but perhaps it was a sound notion? The following day would be long and busy.

And the following night.

Her cheeks heated, as she settled herself by the fire, lacking anything else to do. She cast a glance to the side; she had her own kettle, and could have easily prepared tea for herself, but it was not the same any more. Evening tea was no longer solitary, it was a shared time, and the idea of drinking it alone seemed sad somehow.

There was a small stack of books on the hearthside table, and she glanced over them. She had been reading the works of Pengolodh, last of the Loremasters, in an effort to learn more about the history of the Noldor. But as captivating as the words were, having enough focus to read seemed the height of fancy.

Melethel.

That candle slowly lit in her heart, the one she'd become more used to feeling now. It was always there, banked and softly burning, but it came to life each time Ereinion reached out to her. She had an easier time hearing him than he did her as of yet, but that would come in time.

She smiled at the sound of his voice in her mind, settling back in her chair and closing her eyes. Meleth nín.

Was your afternoon enjoyable?

More than I had dared hope. She summoned a memory of Tinnaril and Disa together, experimenting with what Tinnaril had admitted was one of her own original compositions. It had been just the three of them at that point, Linnea at the loom, and it had gladdened her heart to see the differences between Elf and Dwarf put aside in the name of creating something beautiful. And she felt Ereinion’s happiness as he beheld it. And yours, aran vuin?

This time she felt him sigh; felt a touch of the weariness on him. As well as could be expected. Oropher is proud. He lost no opportunity to jab at Durin. I am grateful Elrond was there to mediate, otherwise I might have exiled them both from Lindon permanently.

Linnea laughed softly, her eyes still closed. I am sorry I was not there with you. 

You had your own work to do, my love. And by your account, you accomplished it admirably. There was a pause. I miss you. I cannot recall why we thought being apart tonight was a good idea, but I regret it now.

Do you think to tempt me to come to you? She chuckled again, letting him feel the warmth his words brought to her. We seem to have found a way around it, even so.

There was an answering chuckle, an answering warmth. I do not. I shall hold to our agreement. But perhaps…

There had been no specific images in her mind up till then, except for the memory of the prior afternoon. But a scent reached her nose, the scent of growing things and wildflowers, and there was a warmth all over her skin - as if she were outside in the sun. 

And finally, she could see it, fading in from the dark behind her eyes.

It was the field she’d taken him to, that afternoon after his training session. They were lying on the same blanket, in the same position; Ereinion’s head was in her lap, and her hand was gently stroking through his hair. 

“I think of this day so often,” he murmured. “How it was unlike anything I had ever experienced before.”

She smiled. The ósanwe had grown so strong; it was as if they were really there. She could hear the chirping of the birds and the buzz of the crickets. Ereinion's hair was like silk beneath her fingers, just as if she were really touching it.

“You had never laid in a field after a picnic before?”

She was teasing him, and he smiled up at her, reaching for her free hand and bringing it to his lips.

“I had never laid in a field with my wife,” he said softly. “I had never set my sword down after training, only to see my wife coming to me with a laden picnic basket. I had never felt so loved, melethel - until the next day, and the one after that, and the one after that. All the days since that very first, you have given me more love than the one before. I can only hope I do the same for you.”

She took their entwined hands and nestled them against his chest, right over his heart. “You need not wonder that for an instant,” she murmured. 

He sighed contentedly, closing his eyes, not speaking. She ran her fingers over the back of his hand, letting him enjoy the peace for a few moments before she spoke again.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?”

His lips curved. “More than I have ever been, for anything,” he said softly, eyes still closed. “I feel that I have prepared for this all my days. Even the night before my coronation, so long ago - I did not feel such. I had never expected to be High King. And it was a hurried affair, with war raging, and my chief concern was to have it done with.”

“I wish I could have been there,” she said, stroking her hand through his hair again.

“I do not.” His brow creased, remembering. “As much as I would have been glad of you, melethel. It was a hard time, and our people lost much. I would not have lost you as well.”

There was a catch in his voice. She had a guess as to its source, especially given the direction that their conversation had gone. His sister Finduilas, taken captive by orcs while he had still been a child during the Wars of Beleriand, and ultimately slain.

She squeezed the hand she held, and pushed out through the ósanwe, lighting her own candle in his heart to give him comfort.

“You never shall,” she whispered. “After tomorrow, we will never be parted, not truly.”

Her words brought the smile back to his lips, and he squeezed her hand back. “And you, melethel? Are you ready?”

In answer, she bent, pressing her lips to his. They might have been in a vision, in a place conjured by the ósanwe that was not real, but the kiss was no less warm nor loving for it. She felt him holding her hand tighter to his heart, returning her kiss, and nuzzling against her nose as she released his mouth.

“Yes,” she said simply. “I am.”

It was all she could say, and all that needed to be said. It drove the last of the long-ago shadows from his eyes, and he reached up, running his thumb over her cheekbone.  

“I am grateful for this time with you, but we should not remain here long,” he murmured. “It is not so taxing when we are so close. But I would not have you tire yourself tonight, not when tomorrow holds so much for us.”

She could feel it - just a slight drag inside her, a faint pull on her fëa. It was worth it, to have had even a few moments, and also worth it to know that this sort of an interlude was even possible. There might be times in the future when they would have to be apart, when this would be the only way they could be together.  

But it felt so good to be with him. This memory was precious to her too, and it was so calming, sitting here with her back against the tree. It soothed the restlessness she’d been feeling; after this, she could rest, and wake refreshed to everything that the next day would bring. 

“Let us stay a little longer,” she said softly, and was rewarded by his smile. “Just a little longer, meleth nín.”

Continue to Part 12

[formerlycookierunauprompts]

Yo, is me, I was one of the anons with this prompt

“Idea, reader cookie wakes up from a nightmare and runs into pure vanilla and tells him what happened to them, he reassures them that they’ll be fine, and offering them to stay in his room for the night…little do they know, for that is not pure vanilla…”

Uh-if ya wanna do it that’s cool

I'm pretty sure the last time you sent this the ask bx was closed but Sure! I'm happy to do it now.

Set in the Warden!Reader Timeline btw, plus Warden Reader Lore. Under the cut because it's pretty long.

Requested Prompts #46 - 💔💓

You are the Warden of the Great Seal, created by the Witches to keep the sealed Beasts in check. Nothing more, nothing less. You patrol the realm of the seal tirelessly, perhaps day in day out. But you never knew what time it was there, nor how much time had passed. You just know that it's long judging by Eternal Sugar's complaints. After all, you are the Warden of the Seal. Nothing more, nothing less. It was the purpose the Witches made you for, right? You are the Warden of the Seal. Nothing more, nothing less. " But there HAS to be something more, right?" A voice nags at you, interrupting your patrol. You cannot identify its source, its likely just one of the Beasts messing with you again. You're almost like a chew toy to them. You can't even begin to recount the amount of times you've been torn apart, you tend to keep your distance from Burning Spice and Eternal Sugar. But it's fine, they are contained. You're doing a good job. They can't escape, they won't escape. You can't escape, you won't ever escape. You are the Warden of the Seal, nothing more, nothing less. You aren't meant to be anyone else. But what if you are? You are the Warden of the Seal. Nothing more, nothing less. Who were you before you were the warden? You are the Warden of the Seal. Nothing more, nothing less. Can you hear that breaking sound? You are the Warden of the Seal. Nothing more, nothing less. Can you smell that scent? You are the Warden of the Seal, keeping the Seal closed is your job. Can you taste that fresh air? You are the Warden of the Seal. Can you see the empty prisons? You may just suck at your job. Can you feel that you're alive?

----

You awake with a sharp gasp, grabbing your spear from next to where you were laying down. A bed, your mind supplies you with. More specifically, it's a bed in the... uh, where are you again? Come to think of it, there isn't supposed to be any beds inside the seal. So then where are you? And what happened? " Miss Warden?" You hear a voice, you quickly point your weapon at the source and- Oh, it's just Pure Vanilla Cookie. You slowly lowered your spear. " My apologies, but it seemed like you were having a nightmare. Are you alright?" " I- I'm fine. It was just a dream after all." You deflect, and you swear that for just a moment you can see Pure Vanilla Cookie's eye twitch. You remembered where you are now, this was the Faerie Kingdom. It was the home of the Silver Tree, otherwise known as the seal, and you'd left the seal to chase after Shadow Milk Cookie since he'd escaped(momentarily, you remind yourself). The main problem, was that White Lily Cookie had re-sealed Shadow Milk into the seal without you. So naturally, you were on edge. " Are you sure?" Pure Vanilla questioned you. " You did look quite disturbed, Little Warden. If there's anything troubling you, then don't be afraid to tell us." He then offered with a kind smile, it was nice of him to do so in fact. Except, there was just one thing that had made you skeptical. Sure, it was something nice but... " ... 'Little Warden'? You muttered aloud, just enough for Pure Vanilla to hear you. Wasn't Pure Vanilla at least a head shorter than you? So then why would he... Actually, wait. Pure Vanilla hadn't gone through a growth-spurt, right? Because he was simply too tall- Wait. Your formerly appreciative expression falters into a neutral grimace, you could smell the ash from the flames of chaos outside. You could see the cracks in his disguise, in fact, you could even see the maze you'd been trapped in with your new allies sitting on the drawers as if it were an innocent snow-globe, the maze also seemed to be contained in said snow-globe. You point your spear at him again, now knowing who he truly is. " Shadow Milk Cookie." You said sternly. " Drop that disguise you're wearing, I know it's you." The beast wearing Pure Vanilla's dough smirked, a grin far too wide present on his face. " Well well well well well! I didn't think you'd figure me out so soon~!" Shadow Milk's voice came through, he'd completely dropped any pretense that he could have been Pure Vanilla in the slightest way. The beast then dropped to the floor with a splat, melding back into the shadows. It isn't too long before you can feel him curl around you, back in his true shape, resting his head and hands upon your shoulders. You staggered in his grasp with a gasp, your spear dropping out of your hands as you lost your footing. " How'd you guess it was me? My silly lilttle Warden?~ Come on, I'm just crumbling to know!" He chirped, holding your weapon just out of reach. " You..." You almost growled, not willing to entertain the twisted entertainer before you. " What have you done to my allies? Why am I here? Did you give me that dream?" You calmly(or maybe coldly?) questioned him, you know that you shouldn't give in to his tomfoolery. " Oh no no no no no my dear, dreamland isn't my domain, that would be Eternal Sugar's." Shadow Milk chirped, so then... Had all the beast's gotten out? You couldn't help but feel a pang of dread settle in. " As for why you're here, well, you refused to stay put in my silly little maze of deceit! You ended up getting out so... I decided to bring you here!" " And 'here' would be...?" You asked, tilting your head back to look at him.

" The Spire of Deceit and Truth!" He hummed. " Oh, and if you're planning on escaping then don't even try to! Each floor of the spire is it's own maze of deceit, it's almost impossible to get out!" He says, as if you can't just jump off the balcony. He detaches from you, letting you fall back onto your surprisingly comfortable bed. It's only now that you realize just how large everything's gotten, your reminder that you were just a crumb compared to the beasts. The shadows collect and grow in mass, eventually all forming together to make Shadow Milk's towering form. " Well, I have to go now! All of Earthbread is waiting for my next performance! So just stay put here, you cute little thing~!" He chirped, all before disappearing in a flash of blue light. And now that you're given a moment longer to think, you come to a realization. You failed at your job, if all the other beasts got out then... the seal would have to be broken, heck, maybe even destroyed. And now, you're probably the only one who even has a chance of wrangling them all back up. Hopefully the seal can be repaired... If it's not entirely destroyed.

----

And there we go! finally got this out. I got too busy playing side order for splatoon three but now I am back on the grind! Mostly. (It's five AM as of posting this, don't worry I did in fact sleep.)

But anyways yeah! reader angst! yippee! This takes place in a more sort of 'things are going bad but we may or may not get a bad ending?' timeline for the Warden!Reader AU. Aka where all the beasts get out and Warden!Reader gets trapped in the maze for a while before figuring out she's in Shadow Milk's stupid fucking maze.

But however will the little warden defeat the five great beasts? Well, that's for you to figure out. I'm just the prompt guy(girl).

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Second Chance Sorcerer

Chapter 1 - Phantom Tokyo

Summary: After surviving Mahito's Idle Transfiguration in the Shibuya Incident, Nanami finds himself in an unknown realm between life and death. Will he escape?

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Fem! reader

A/N: I can't believe I actually got around to writing this! *sobs*. I hope everyone does take the time to read it, and enjoys what I've created here. This will be a multi-chapter fic, quite different from the one-shots I've posted before. It was originally made with an OC, which can be read on my AO3 account, but all changes have been made to y/n here.

Thank you @actuallysaiyan for making the lovely title banner and for listening to me rant and giving me all the encouragement to finish this chapter. Everyone needs a cheerleader like you. 💜

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Nanami masterlist

“You’ve got it from here…Itadori kun.”

Those were the last words Nanami remembers saying before Mahito’s Idle Transfiguration fragmented his soul into smithereens. All he felt was pain, gut-wrenching pain as his soul collapsed and rearranged itself, piece after piece trying various combinations of alignment, trying to come back into some semblance of a whole, like chromosomes after being hit with a lethal dose of radiation.

His eyes squeeze shut, senses overloading as he prepares to meet whatever awaits him on the other side. Would it be a lovely afterlife like he’d hoped? Filled with long days on the beach, reading the backlog of books he’d been holding off on? Laying in the sun, no work, no obligations, just doing whatever he wanted to his heart’s content? He felt warmth against his chest, a bright light emanating from it, and for a split second, it felt like someone was calling out to him, a very familiar voice…

And all of a sudden it stops. With a thump, he crumples on something solid, his side colliding with the surface. Was this it? Was he in the afterlife? Nanami hesitantly opens his eyes and takes in his surroundings.

At first, it appears like he’s landed on a sidewalk that wound deeply into a very gloomy and derelict-looking city. He could make out buildings, traffic lights, and little shops tucked away in between these larger structures, all of them looking abandoned or in various states of disuse. Not exactly what he’d hoped for. Was this actually the Great Beyond? 

Nanami pushes himself to his feet, relieved when he realizes he’s not in pain anymore. Had Mahito sent him to a separate contained domain? He squints, trying to find his bearings. There was no sunlight wherever he was, but the street lamps were lit along the length of the sidewalk, casting shadows along the way. He cautiously looks around. The place looks strangely familiar…

He grasps his weapon, the blade having still been in his hand when Mahito touched him, and advances down the road. As he walks, he realizes with a jolt that wherever he is appears to be a phantom of his neighborhood. He recognized this road now, as he had frequented it so often. Up ahead was the grocery store he would go to every Saturday. And right opposite it, a little cafe he would sometimes wander into for their lovely croissants and artisan coffee. The more he walked, the more he started piecing together a map of this area, astonished at what he was seeing. This certainly couldn’t be a domain expansion. There was far too much detail resembling the real world and, although the place gave a foreboding aura, seemed to be unoccupied except for himself. 

He stops in the middle of the sidewalk, lowers his weapon, and tries to think. Logic was telling him Mahito had sent him somewhere, perhaps a sealed space, rather than kill him outright. But if that was the case, why was he healed? His entire left side which had been covered with fatal burns was gone, the skin healed over like new, his eye regenerated, hair grown back. His clothes and shoes had somehow been restored to their original condition, his glasses back to their position on his face. 

Things weren’t adding up. He continued to walk, then came upon a library he remembered passing by in the real world but had never really paid attention to before. Deciding this was as good a spot as any to glean information about his whereabouts, he enters, squinting through the darkness. Lines and lines of shelves stood neatly arranged in the building. Nanami walks between the rows, pausing in between sections for a brief moment before continuing his perusing. 

He rounds the corner, then quickly presses his back against a bookshelf as he senses an unusual energy signature fading away from him. So he wasn’t alone, and the thought wasn’t comforting. The energy didn’t match a human or a sorcerer, so he had to assume it was a special-grade curse. After his interactions with Jogo and Mahito, he didn’t know what to expect in terms of its abilities. He was tempted to escape but knew he had nowhere to go. If he was trapped in this domain what hope was there to escape this odd being he was sensing?

Raising the clothed blade with its polka dot pattern, he follows the energy steadily, not daring to breathe too loudly as he advances. It moves stealthily and silently, as though trying to elude him. This makes him immediately wary, sensing he could be getting lured into a trap. He follows at a distance, then stops as he comes to a reading section, the area cleared out and decorated with little chairs, poufs, and tables. Struggling to see in the dim light, he moves into the open, instincts screaming that he’s making a mistake. He pauses, trying to sense the energy again.

“It’s rude to chase one with a weapon you know.” A voice says from directly behind him. Nanami startles and spins around to face his pursuant, arms immediately coming before him to block an impending attack. Upon seeing the sight before him, his gaze fills with both fear and wonder, the being in front of him a vision of amazement. 

All he sees at first are a pair of piercing silver eyes that seem to probe the very depths of his soul. There’s a quiet insightfulness to them like he was looking into the eyes of an old friend, yet an unsettling intensity that made him feel apprehensive. The being appeared to lack a shape, but as Nanami took another step back, the light from the street lamps showed it to be made of wisps of black shadowy mist, neither fluid nor gas, swirling endlessly around it. 

Something within him tells him he shouldn’t fear this creature, yet all instincts were telling him to charge the attack before it got to him first. They stood, staring at each other through the dimness, before Nanami gathered his courage and asked, “What are you? A curse?”

The being huffs, as if it was an impertinent question. “What am I…Who am I…The question has been asked for centuries. Yet, even I do not have an appropriate answer…But I am most definitely not a curse.”

It glides silently over the floor, and Nanami instinctively raises his weapon. The being appears to look amused, based on the way those intense silver eyes glowed. “Put away your blade, Nanami Kento. The things I could have done to you once you entered my realm can’t be defended against by you, or even a special-grade sorcerer for that matter. I doubt even Ryomen Sukuna would stand a chance against me.” The smoky form billows, ebbing and flowing as it circles him. 

Not entirely reassured, Nanami puts his weapon back in the holder of his suspenders. There’s an odd feeling of reverence despite the eerie nature of the being. 

“I am what they call The Mediator, The One Before Death, or The Spectator.” It answers his question. 

“And where am I?” Nanami asks the shadow. 

“You are in between worlds, Nanami Kento.”

“In between worlds?” The blonde man repeated skeptically. Did such a thing exist? He had never given death much thought (beyond the dying part), and always assumed it was like being asleep one moment and waking up in paradise the next. To be in between worlds…had Mahito somehow just locked him away in another dimension that was a bleak version of his neighborhood? 

“So…am I…alive? But in another dimension?”

The Mediator looked at him thoughtfully, as though wondering how best to explain to him. “You are alive for now. But you definitely died, otherwise you wouldn’t have ended up here in my realm.”

“I died, and came back to life?” The sorcerer frowned at the obscureness with which this said. “That makes no sense. People don’t just arbitrarily resurrect from the dead. I was severely weakened. My soul was unprotected. Mahito’s attack should have killed me.”

“It did. However, something at that moment reversed the attack and restored the various fragments your soul had shattered into.”

Disbelievingly, Nanami started running his hands over his torso as though trying to find evidence that he had died. It was just…fantastical…impossible…He had survived Mahito’s attack? What divine intervention could have possibly saved him from something so deadly? As his fingers near his wrist, they brush over a small chain, hidden under the cuff of his shirt. He quickly undoes the button and looks incredulously at the small charm, an Aum symbol, dangling from the chain. 

“Y/n…” he murmurs her name softly. His apprentice. He now remembers her fastening one of these to not just him but to Ino and Itadori as well before they were deployed to Shibuya. 

“That’s probably what saved you,” the being said evidently, interrupting Nanami’s thoughts. “Whatever that is, it was imbued with a heavy concentration of neutralized curse energy. So when you died from the attack, that charm activated and repaired your soul.”

Nanami absently fingered the charm, trying to think. Y/n’s ability to neutralize cursed energy had improved immensely under his tutelage, he knew that, but he hadn’t imagined it to this extent. Her other ability included being able to manipulate any cursed energy she neutralized into forms of heat, summoning flames on her palms that towered at least  20 feet tall. How she had imbued the energy into the charm was anyone’s guess. 

“And I’m in between worlds.” He repeats again, trying to make sure he’s not misunderstanding the conversation.

“Indeed. Think of this as your own personal purgatory.” Those silver eyes bore into him like moons against a black sky, waiting to see his reaction.

Purgatory. Nanami pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, unable to fathom how insane this sounded. “I thought purgatory was for people who needed to be redeemed.”

“It is usually. But in your case, it looks like the veil partitioning the worlds got confused, seeing as how you left one dead, and then suddenly became alive in another. Death probably couldn’t figure out what to do with you so it sent you here instead.”

“So I’m stuck here?”

Despite the miraculousness of it all, Nanami couldn’t help but feel a twinge of irritation. He had been prepared for death for several years now. So much to the point that he had a will drafted, signed, and sealed, declaring all his possessions to be donated to charity since he had no other family or next of kin. A copy of the keys to his house had been entrusted to the lawyer who had helped draft the will. He had all his affairs set in order with the expectation that his death would be sudden and he was unwilling to burden anyone to deal with the repercussions. 

He had known he would die in the line of duty. He had accepted his fate the moment Mahito had laid a hand on him in the underground, welcoming death as a tranquil friend. His whole life had been struggle after struggle, a gamble, clawing his way to stay alive. All he could say was that he had been lucky so far. There had to be a moment when that luck ran out. He had been dreaming of knowing peace and death seemed to be the only option for that. 

“Does it bother you, that you are alive?” The purgatory being asks him curiously, noting his less-than-happy expression. “Most would rejoice at this second chance for life.”

The question hits Nanami with a gravity he hadn’t been expecting. “Most people haven’t lived my life. I’ve done enough. I’m tired. I’ve earned the right to a peaceful death.”

“And yet, it looks like someone desperately wanted you to live.” Those hypnotic eyes wander over to the charm dangling on his wrist. “Is that not reason enough? To not want to die?”

Disturbed by the notion, Nanami grips the charm. Y/n’s energy had kept him alive, unwittingly preventing him from moving on into the afterlife. Whether that had been her intent was debatable. Her desperately wanting him to live? It just didn’t seem likely to him. Sure, perhaps she didn’t want him to die in the way that people didn’t want others to die in general. But beyond that? He couldn’t fathom her being so consumed by the thought of his death that she would create a charm that essentially kept him alive after having his soul damaged to what should have been a point beyond repair. 

Y/n had a late start in her career as a sorceress, and certain concepts about it seemed to stymie her, more typically seen in a younger student than someone her age. He had repeatedly told her to not worry about him when he took her on missions, to value her life more than his. He drilled it into her head when he taught her self-defense, that if there was an opportunity to escape she should take it, the hand-to-hand combat sometimes leaving bruises on her skin because she’d been unwilling to take a shot at him. It always pained him when that happened, marking her, leaving those unsavory blemishes on her but how else was she going to learn that fairness wasn’t something that existed in Jujutsu? Her willingness to get a little scuffed up if it meant protecting him from a curse irked him. She was rather like a kitten unwilling to be shooed away from a reluctant petter. His lips curled wryly as he imagined her expression if she ever heard that comparison out loud. 

‘Don’t be so cruel Nanami san!’ She’d probably say, those large (color) eyes looking at him reproachfully. And for a moment, his mind’s eye couldn’t picture anything else except that; those large (color) eyes, and the shock in them when he told her that he didn’t think he’d live very long. She hadn’t said anything to convince him his mindset was wrong, but she did look like he had betrayed her by expressing his very honest and logical opinion. As though he had broken an oath to her by not saying he wanted to live long and prosper. 

Nanami gives himself a mental shake. This wasn't the time to be thinking about Y/ni's opinion on his death. The bigger task at hand now was figuring out what to do about his imprisonment in purgatory. 

All the while, the shadow hadn’t wavered and had merely continued to look at him work through his inner monologue. Realizing that Nanami had reached a limit, it said, “No, you are not stuck here. At least, not for very long.”

The sorcerer’s head snaps up at those words, eyes narrowing behind the green glass of his frames. “What do you mean, not very long?”

“Well, the neutralized energy imbued into that charm? It’s not infinitely going to remain contained in that. The seal broke when it saved your life, and it’s essentially trickling out little particles of it. It will run out at some point, although it’s difficult to say when that is.”

“And when it does run out?”

“You’ll die.” The being says simply. “And move on into the next realm. That’s the way purgatory is supposed to work. Cleanse you to be fit to live in the realm of death.” 

“And it’s unknown when that will happen?”

The shadow appears to ponder his question before offering a hesitant guess. “A few days, maybe 4 or 5 at maximum, based on the energy intensity that it's currently emitting.”

“And what am I to do for 4 to 5 days here?” Nanami gestures around the gloomy library, obviously not impressed with this arrangement. These extra days before his impending death somehow made a vein pop in his forehead. It was like a pre-death before the actual one.

“Well, you must have noticed by now that this is the neighborhood you used to live in. You are free to wander around here and experience your old life one last time. You can visit your apartment, take the subway and wander around the Jujutsu High campus, or watch a movie in the theater.” The shadow suggested, sounding like a pleasant tour guide for the afterlife. “Think of it as a vacation before your death.”

It struck Nanami as a little absurd but he strokes his chin, considering. “And that’s my only option? To experience my old life before dying?”

“It’s not the only option. You could go back and live.”

A pregnant pause hangs in the air at those words. Nanami’s eyes widen at the thought. He could go back to the land of the living? He hadn’t even considered that as an option. He only had death on his mind. Thoughts of living on a beach, days filled with no responsibility still flickered through his mind but at the same time…

“What is it about life that makes you so hesitant?” The purgatory being asks him inquisitively. 

Nanami opens his mouth but no words come out. Had he been thinking about how to escape his situation that all he had ever thought about was dying? It wasn’t unexpected of him. He had learned so long ago that life was mostly shit, with a few moments of relief folded in. At least it was for curse users. He remembers seeing all the people he knew die, how he had tried to escape from Jujutsu, only to be sucked back in because he knew he didn’t fit in anywhere else. When faced with the choice of remaining in a job of corporate greed, or one that endangered his life but was somewhat altruistic, the choice became apparent. He had returned to Jujutsu. Not entirely selflessly, but with the idea that it was the quicker way out of his misery. 

“Is there nothing you would like to return to?” The shadow presses. “Remember that you are a very rare case. Hardly anyone ends up in purgatory under your circumstances. I would hate to see a life go to waste because you don’t know what to do with it.”

A sudden memory comes into Nanami’s mind. A day of unexpected frivolity, when Y/n, Yuji, and Ino had convinced him to come along to an amusement park. It was an odd day but to his surprise, he hadn't hated it. Y/n had mostly stayed away from the roller-coasters, leaving it to Yuji and Ino, wandering with Nanami to the food stalls, closer in age to him than she was to the boys. It was a strange feeling of domesticity he had never experienced before, almost like they were a hodgepodge family of misfits. It was the closest thing he had experienced to a normal day in a long time. 

But days like that were rare. They were like sprinkles on top of ice cream. People could never have more sprinkles than ice cream. Life just didn't work that way. However, Nanami found himself contemplating his choices. Perhaps he had been so jaded that he thought life was wading through ice cream instead of appreciating the sprinkles? And here he was dreaming about sprinkles when he was stuck in purgatory. 

He sighs and shakes his head. “If I did go back, would it make a difference?” He asks doubtfully. 

The being’s eyes crinkle warmly, almost like it's smiling. “To one person, yes. And isn't that more than enough?”

The charm swings from his wrist like a pendulum. He considers the shadow’s words and feels his heart clench uncomfortably. The stakes almost felt too high, wagering his return to life on the chance that it would make a difference to Y/n. Well, maybe not just her. He frowns as he feels the energy in the trinket resonate for a brief moment when he thinks of her, as though it was trying to convince him to make the gamble. He had never quite paid attention to her energy signature before now, so concentrated within the tiny object; it felt like a warm cup of coffee on a lazy Saturday morning. He feels disconcerted that he could sense this now and it was making him want to change his mind about dying. He sighed deeply, feeling his resolve begin to solidify, even though it felt like he was making the wrong choice. 

“How do I get out of here?” 

The shadow has no features except its eyes, but if Nanami could assign it an expression, it would have to be triumph.  

“I’m so glad you asked.” It appraisingly looks at him, before continuing. “Perhaps you might want to let the lady know you’re alive.”

“Must I?” Nanami asks with a hint of exasperation. 

The shadow looks amused but continues in an even tone. “I’m afraid I must insist. It's better to give people a warning when you’re coming back from the dead. Prepares them for the prospect of seeing you again. Trust me, it’s better that way.”

“And how do I do that?” 

It merely continues to look at him with that amused expression and Nanami almost lets out a growl of frustration. “Listen. I died. Then I was told I wasn’t dead, but I’ll die soon. Then I changed my mind and decided I wanted to live. The least you can do is tell me how to get a message out of here.”

The purgatory being laughs; it’s an eerie noise, yet had all the comfort of a long-lost friend. “Very well 7:3 Sorcerer. It’s simple really. To send a message out of here, all you need to do is blend your cursed energy with the cursed energy of the person you’re thinking about going back to life for. Imbue this energy into a small object which will then find a way to its recipient.”

The elementary way this was said nearly cracks his temper. “Is that all?” He asks, unable to keep the bite of sarcasm out of his voice. 

The shadow chuckles at this, adding to his ire. “It really is. Just try focusing on something other than your disappointment of not dying today.” 

Nanami takes a deep breath and exhales through his nose trying to keep his composure. “A small object…” His hand grips the handle of his blade and pulls it out, eyeing it carefully. The whole blade wouldn’t make it. He just automatically knew it. But he wanted to make sure Y/n would recognize the message was from him. He fidgets with the blade, thinking, and then by accident, the edge of it comes in contact with the Aum charm. 

The blend of energy that shoots through him was a shock; a mix of the warm coffee on Saturday mornings, coupled with the calculated preciseness of a seasoned Q-grader who assessed those coffee beans. The polka dots spattered all over the cloth wrapping the weapon glowed at the edges for a brief second before the blade lost contact with the charm. 

Nanami observed the whole process with fascination. Dormant instinct took over him, and he moved his hand so that the charm now swung over the blade. Focusing on that combined energy signature, he purposefully touches the charm to the blade. Y/n’s neutralized curse energy flows into the blade, and he feels his own beginning to fuse with it. He concentrates on his ratio technique, and with a flash, all the polka dots lift off the blade, glowing with a pale sea foam green aura. 

“Find her,” he whispers to the dots, and in a hazy glow, they vanish. 

Nanami watches, as though in a daze, unable to believe what had just happened. He turns to look at the purgatory being.

“Message sent. Now, how do I get out of here?”

The shadow being had been looking at the spot where the polka dots had vanished. It swirls around and looks at him in the eyes. 

“By facing your deepest regrets.”

Animated lines and support banner by @cafekitsune

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[xerith-42]

I was wrong

It takes a lot to admit that, even more for me to admit that about MCD, but I was wrong about something in regards to this series. In a previous post I said that the worst episode of MCD was Season 2 Episode 95, because it was the culmination of the absolute failure that was Laurance's character arc. And I wasn't wrong about that, S2E95 is an objectively bad episode and I stand by it being one of the worst. But it's only one of the worst episodes of this series. Probably second or third worst.

The actual worst episode of Minecraft Diaries happens far earlier in it's run time than I anticipated. The actual episode that begins the degrading of every single main character happens within it's first season. The worst episode of Minecraft Diaries is Season 1 Episode 65, Our Fears.

For those of you who haven't watched MCD in a minute, or aren't insane like I am and recognize what happens in an episode from just a number and a thumbnail, this is the episode where Aphmau and Dante get chased into Malachi's abandoned castle and fall victim to his uncontrollable magic. A magic that shows people their greatest fears.

Now the concept of a ghost that forces the audience and the characters to come face to face with the leading characters greatest fears is a fantastic idea. I'm serious this is one of the best concepts for character work in the entire Aphverse. This is great, this can go so many good ways.

Aphmau's fear is pretty weak mostly because it shows her house on fire, nobody hurt, and Malachi comments that she's "Scared of losing the ones you love." My honest reaction to this was "She lost her house in episode 36 and didn't seem to care because her loved ones are safe. You wanna communicate that she's scared of people dying just show Zoey lying on the ground or something smh." It gets the job done, but not very well.

Dante's fear is the only one that's well done because it's an image of Gene about to rip apart the realm barrier in the Nether. This works surprisingly well despite only being one shot because it gets across Dante's connection to Gene and the Nether pretty well, setting up for the reveal later on. Dante's existence is this episode's single redeeming quality. And as much as I like the guy, he's not enough to hold up the episode after what happens next.

Now, dear viewer who presumably knows the plot of MCD because you've read this far into a post about this single episode, you know that at this point in the series Garroth has been found out by his brother and has the looming threat of the entire O'Khasis military on his mind all the damn time. Zane has already hurt members of his village in direct ways, and only didn't do more damage because he was called away for an emergency. Garroth has already failed to protect one lord, and he's nearly failed to protect another.

Laurance is a shadow knight. And even though the lore of shadow knights is still flimsy at this point, we know that they are very prone to killing lords, it's why Laurance renounced his position as head guard of Meteli and refuses to return. But that doesn't mean his desire for blood is gone. It just means it has a new target. Like say, the lord he comes to the castle in search of? That he has explicit romantic feelings for?

Again, this idea of forcing the audience and the characters to face their greatest fears is such a good idea, especially with these three, because they can all be interlinked. Aphmau fears losing her loved ones, Garroth fears failing to protect his people, and Laurance fears that he'll give into bloodlust. Are you picking up what I'm putting down? I don't know if I can make it anymore obvious where the show should have gone from here.

But, no, unfortunately Jesson wrote this series. So what could have been one of the best moments of character work in the entire series, instead became the beginning of the end for our would be love interests. I'm of course referring to how it's revealed that their actual "worst fear" is Aphmau getting with... Another guy. Not even her picking one over the other, just her holding hands with and kissing some guy that Garroth and Laurance DON'T EVEN KNOW!

And despite Laurance saying he's happy as long as he has Aphmau in his life, he starts getting enraged that another guy would have the audacity to kiss her. Even though the scene he's shown seems to be entirely consensual. And in response to this, BOTH OF THEM DECIDE TO TRY AND KILL THIS ILLUSION OF DANTE JUST FOR KISSING THE GIRL THEY LIKE!

AND THIS IS SEEN AS A GOOD THING BY THE SHOW!! Attacking this illusion breaks the barrier around the real Aphmau and Dante, and Garroth and Laurance are never punished for their actions here. Aphmau is barely concerned that her guards, the men she's willing to trust with her life, were willing to kill someone for the crime of kissing her. Hot fucking take, Aphmau maybe shouldn't trust these people after seeing that they're willing to kill a man over the crime of loving her when they want to.

And even hotter take, GARROTH AND LAURANCE WOULDN'T DO THIS! Both men have been shown to be highly protective over Aphmau, which makes sense it's literally their job to keep her safe, but that protective nature shouldn't cross over into actively interfering with her romantic life. They're fucking lucky it was just an illusion, what would have happened if Malachi used mind control? What if he was using Aphmau and Dante's bodies as puppets? What if Garroth and Laurance just killed an amateur guard whose only crime was being forced to kiss the girl they liked?

This is one of those writing decisions that truly baffles me. It was RIGHT THERE, HOW DID YOU MISS, IT (the perfect piece of character work) WAS THREE FEET IN FRONT OF YOU! The answer is that Jesson don't really care about the interesting character work, they care about tropes. They care about the main character being in a love triangle with two guys who equally suck but in different ways. They care about fans getting excited and debating over which ship is better. They care about pushing this love triangle onto viewers regardless of what makes sense for the characters involved because the writers fail to see the nuance of the characters that they fucking wrote the nuance of.

I fucking hate Episode 65. Easily the worst episode of MCD. Any episode after this when Garroth and Laurance act horrendously out of character in service of this love triangle (I'm looking at you episode 77, and episode 90, and season 2 episode 95, and season 2 episode 98), know that it started here. It started with episode 65.

Fuck this episode.

[kusagrasskusa]

MK Villains meeting/hearing about their (and your) child - PART 2

Erron Black, Shang Tsung, Baraka, Kano, Quan Chi, Shao Kahn edition! (Part 1)

This time, we’ll be featuring…

Shinnok, Dark Raiden, Noob / Bi Han (he wasn’t very good), Scorpion, Reptile!

Enjoy ;) @kryptofancientdreams

Shinnok

Shinnok: My child, where had you gone?

Child: My brothers and I have a plan to defeat you.

Shinnok: Then, I suppose they will have to go through with it without you.

—

Raiden: You fall from the light, sister.

Child: We are the children of Shinnok- you are just as horrible as I.

Raiden: You’re speaking just like him.

—

You: You promised our child the Netherrealm, then go missing.

Shinnok: A couple of inconveniences got in the way.

You: That human actor? Are you the same husband as before?

—

Child: I’ll kill Quan Chi myself if you can’t.

Shinnok: He is much stronger than yourself. Just wait until I win it over for you.

Child: *Pout* why! I can defeat you, so why let do it?

—

You: You need to talk to your son.

Kronika: Why so?

You: He fails to give [child] the gift of the Netherrealm.

—

Shinnok: Have you met your [sister/brother]?

Raiden: She is no sister of mine.

Shinnok: You may ignore the truth, but you know your place.

—

Child: You can't hide from fate.

Shinnok: My fate is not to die at the end of a worthless human's blade.

Child: A demi-god. And Cage proves humans aren't so wortthless.

—

Child: Brother! He escaped!

Raiden: Do you think yourself powerful enough to defeat him?

Child: Perhaps... If you can prove it.

—

Johnny Cage: Your daddy ever tell you about me?

Child: I tell him about you, actually, Ninja Mime.

Johnny Cage: Then be ready to tell him about this, got it?

—

Raiden: How does a human betray her realm?

You: If my child can have a father, that's how.

Raiden: A kind sentiment, with horrible reasoning.

—

Fujin: I had no idea we had a sister.

Raiden: If the reader has a thing for Shang Tsung and would like to see our sister...

Fujin: The author has a story for that? Can I check it out here?

—

Fujin: I won't call you mother.

You: I don't expect you to. You're a grown ma- God.

Fujin: Just making sure you're fine with that.

—

You: Give [child] back!

Raiden: I will not let you or Shinnok destroy my [sister/brother].

You: You fool! This is why Shinnok hates you!

Dark Raiden

You: Are you even going to be there for [child]?

Raiden: [She/he] can live without me. But [she/he] cannot live without Earthrealm.

You: I won't let you leave so easily this time!

—

Fujin: Where is your father?

You: I won't let you find him.

Fujin: The darkness grows over you too. I'm sorry, niece.

—

Revenant Lui Kang: I can never kill Raiden, but I make him live his life in misery.

You: He is finished with your whines, champion.

Revenant Lui Kang: And soon, I'll be finished with you.

—

Raiden: Where is [she/he]

Revenant Lui Kang: You took away my life, Raiden. Now I took away yours.

Raiden: And I will finish with this life of yours!

—

Child: Not. Another. Step.

Raiden: You dare cross me?

Child: You killed them, father. You are not deserving of the name, "Protector."

—

You: Your father's angry at you.

Child: You two have lost yourself in darkness. I trust you mi longer.

You: You forget: I'm not as merciful as him.

—

Cassie: so, you're dad's a god? Must be nice.

You: 'Til he becomes a dark God. Then it kinda sucks.

Cassie: Eh, my dad sees you as a daughter anyways. That's a plus.

—

Raiden: I never could have imagined it end this way.

Child: Father, you misunderstand!

Raiden: You helped a Reventant. You betray your realm!

Noob Saibot / Bi Han (seperate)

Noob: I am not your father.

Child: You may be dead, but you are still my father!

Noob: Bi Han is dead. You are just another orphan.

—

Child: Saibot is not as fun to play with. He's just a shadow.

Noob: I cannot always be with you, child.

Child: Then why did you ever hsve me?

—

Kuai Liang: My [niece/nephew]. You have my mother's eyes.

Child: I am not your niece. I was born to Noob, not Bi Han.

Kuai Liang: He is my brother and life, and in death.

—

You: You left me to raise a child on my lonesome.

Noob: I did what I must to protect [her/him].

You: You'd protect [child] better dead then alive.

—

Hanzo: It was a mistake. I was blinded by my rage.

Child: I actually came to thank you. I want to learn what you did.

Hanzo: How I killed your father? It went something like this...

—

Bi Han: I love you.

You: You have yet to prove it. Spend time with [child] if so.

Bi Han: That will have to wait until later, unless you can bring me home yourself.

—

Frost: I thought your dad said women weren't allowed to be heirs.

Child: No, no. He said bitches aren't allowed to be heirs.

Frost: Your family blood are all assholes.

—

Kuai Liang: I told you, we cannot waste anymore time.

You: If I can beat you, then I can take down my father!

Kuai Liang: Yes, but you can never bring him back.

—

Kuai Liang: So you finally settled down.

Bi Han: Correct, brother.

Kuai Liang: Let us see how prepared you are to raise a child, then.

—

Bi Han: Our daughter does not enjoy watching us fight.

You: You seem to forget; You are the leader, but I am the First Lady.

Bi Han: ...She will have the might of her mother.

Scorpion

Child: I understand. I will never mean enough to you.

Scorpion: I love you the same as my son. Never doubt that.

Child: Then why do you care for them more than me?

—

Quan Chi: It would be a shame for it to happen again, yes?

Scorpion: [Child] and Y/N are under my permanently protection.

Quan Chi: Protection... only worked so much, didn't it?

—

Raiden: You look just like your father.

Son: I am more hellbent than him.

Raiden: Then you can never be saved.

—

You: Who will it be, your dead family or your new one?

Scorpion: My dear wife, I am sorry. But I cannot let go.

You: I see. Then I suppose you won't be needing us anymore.

—

Johnny: I saw this chick on my way here. Literally, smokin' hot.

Scorpion: *angrly grips chain* It was you who harassed my daughter?

Johnny: *clicks tongue* Yup. Not good on my part.

—

Child: I wish I could've killed Hemuri and my brother myself.

Scorpion: He is no brother of yours any longer!

Child: Good. Then if I could kill him, it would be far less meaningless.

—

Scorpion: You took my child away!

You: Why would you care! We're meaningless compared to your dead family!

Scorpion: Bring [him/her] back!

—

Quan Chi: I thought I killed you a long time ago.

Child: That was my brother. I had come to avenge my father's clan.

Quan Chi: Then suffer the same fate.

—

Kuai Liang: Scorpion found love once more.

You: *smiles* He did. Although, he cannot look past what you had done.

Kaui Liang: That was neither I or my brother. Send the message.

Reptile/Syzoth

Cassie: So, what's your favorite bug to eat?

Child: Ew, bugs are my father's thing. I prefer the flesh of chickens.

Cassie: Huh. Gotta say, not what I expected.

—

Erron Black: *Whistles* Ain't you one fine specimen.

Daughter: Half Saurian, half [human/edenian/whatever]. *wink*

Erron Black: That so? Wanna come "put venom in my veins" girlie?

—

Takeda: I think I've seen this somewhere.

Child: Avatar? I get that a lot.

Takeda: Maybe... or furry conventions.

— (Enter Alice Cooper)

Johnny: I wanna kiss you but your lips are-

You: -venomous poisonnnn.

Johnny: Yeah, how do you kiss that guy anyways and not melt?

—(Exit)

Syzoth: *"My child" in Saurian*

Child: *"Father" in Saurian*

Syzoth: *:)*

—

Shang Tsung: I thought Reptile to be the last of his species.

Child: That was before he had me to a [human/edenian/whatever].

Shang Tsung: I must expirement with such a cross breed.

—

Jaque: I know Tiana had to kiss the frog to turn him human, but to have a child with the frog?

You: There's more than meets the eye, my dearest.

Jaque: Don't talk that close to me. Don't know where that mouth has been.

—

[nessacousland]

can i ask what was ur problem with treviso? i actually found treviso and the crows to be the most interesting faction out of all of them so maybe im just biased LOL

Okay, full disclosure: I was on vacation and didn’t get to play Veilguard until the 8th of November. Couldn’t take the potential spoilers everywhere, so I've been cramming these past few days to finish the game asap (I still did every side quest, had all factions at max strength and got the “best” ending etc. but didn’t do every chests/stats puzzle). By the time the Treviso questline concluded, I'd been fully marinating in the sauce of all the other criminally stupid quests, is what I’m trying to say, and Treviso was emblematic of every problem I already had with this game. It was my breaking point.

To start with, the questline is offensively generic and an actual insult to the players’ intellect. Painfully linear, cartoon villains abound and nothing of any substance was ever said during its run.

The moment Caterina told us about Lucanis’ non-death, I called Illario being the traitor. There were no clever misdirects, there were no other leads, nope, they showed us his hand *immediately*. Grandma First Talon of the murder guild has a clear favorite and didn’t tell the ‘spare’ heir about her suspicions? Yeah, okay. Repeat FAMILY as often as you want, you piss-poor Godfather knockoff of a questline, I ain't buying.

So, from the start, all tension is gone, I'm just sitting there waiting for the rest of these “capable” assassins who “rule Antiva from the shadows” to catch on to this incredibly obvious plot twist. Meanwhile, the quests had absolutely nothing interesting to say - about the Crows or Treviso. The first bad guy was, predictably, an evil evil Venatori, super more evil than the evil evil Venatori you've seen before, guys, she literally BATHES IN BLOOD. Omg, right? 🙄 (I found Tevinter infinitely more compelling when their entire ruling class were power-hungry tyrants out of self-interest instead of being hit over the head with the mustache-twirling villain/crazed cultist stick).

Mr. “totally not the traitor” kills Zara before she can tell us anything of substance, she dies,clearly shocked, calling him “Amatus”...AND NO ONE CATCHES ON. You can have Neve on the team, Bellara regularly reads Tevinter serials (the whole team has a fucking book club in the middle of an apocalypse), you can play a freaking Shadow Dragon Rook, but nah, nothing. We don’t even get to ask “Uh, what was that?”. Instead, we get to sit through more pointless missives/quests while the ever capable Crows are totally investigating the traitor.

Now, you could argue that the “Amatus” was a reward to tip off those of us who’ve played the previous games and know what the term means. But with a plot this threadbare and obvious…did the writers think they’re Agatha Christie here? Did they really think I was at the edge of my seat, desperate to find out “whodunit” and grateful for any crumbs thrown my way?

Well, anyway, we are told a million times over that super charming (where?) Illario is just “like that” every time he acts super freaking suspicious. (The funeral thing with Caterina's ashes was especially funny.)

You'd think those instances would start to add up and prompt someone - anyone - to start using their brains (don't we have a goddamn detective on our team?!), but NOPE. We have to corpse-whisper to progress this questline. One of the biggest ass-pulls they've introduced via this game in general, in my opinion (is this Forbidden Realms and we just unlocked the Speak with the Dead spell?) - and it acts as the deus ex machina here to finally give us a clue. Wow, thanks.

The entire sequence of Lucanis confronting Illario in front of the assembled mafia felt like something out of an Antivan play. So goddamn goofy. I thought that vibe was charming in Josephine's romance quest - Antivans live for the drama - but they wanted us to take this moment seriously. This is Lucanis confronting his “all he has left” (don't get me started on the Fade sequence - apparently we the players can’t grasp anyone's motivations without having them spelled out for us over and over again) for putting him through hell and changing his entire being forever. Should I be laughing right now?

To make matters worse,we're told that the Crows are the perfect killers who never leave a contract unfinished - and then Lucanis spares Illario because the humiliation is the biggest punishment??? Like, I'm fine with him faltering here, that’s human. But this should have had consequences. This is the murder guild we're talking about here. Lucanis’ parents were literally killed in a different house’s coup attempt. He was just made the head mobster, immediately showed weakness in front of the entire mafia and everything is just dandy fine??? Because FAMILY?

Another personal gripe with this is that - as always - Rook had zero agency. No matter what you do, Lucanis will forgive or spare Illario. Imagine if we had the option to convince him to kill him instead. Imagine the resulting resentment tainting our bond with him and having us actively engage with fixing or breaking it. Imagine us going along with his mercy but hashing out the painful consequences for his house with him. But that’s not the game Veilguard is.

Anyway, the quest then becomes even more ridiculous. We've long learned that a human traitor helped the Antaam claim Treviso overnight. Someone with great knowledge of the city and the necessary power to make it happen. Gee, I'm sure the human GOVERNOR regularly hanging out in the Crow headquarters or the market bitching about the Crows’ interference 24/7 - the ONLY town official we get to see - had nothing to do with it. Five scarves fluttered in shock out of five, great job, guys.

The Butcher thing was just…weird. Like, we get to hear and build him up as this totally different antaam leader, cruel but cunning and calculating, someone who will be difficult to dethrone. Only for him to show up out of nowhere and serve no other purpose than to move the main plot forward asap and die. Lol, thanks for your service, I guess.

Then Ivenci, for no fucking reason, decides that they, like any good cartoon villain, should reveal themselves to us just in order to gloat. Um, why don’t they simply order the Antaam to murder us dead right then and there? If Rook and their plucky team of friends are too powerful for that, why haven’t we taken Treviso by force already? But nah, lol, our plot armor doesn’t have any cracks yet, so they literally tell us to go away and try to disturb the gods’ plans, because those guys will totally kill us for them.

Now, we wait again. Excuse me, isn’t this a questline about assassins? Why aren’t we trying to, y'know, assassinate Ivenci? Cut off the snakes's head, how often have we heard this phrase otherwise? Nah, let's wait till we get another letter that shit is going down that the Crows totally didn’t anticipate and THEN let's confront them. (Ofc, the Crows’ investigation of the qamek stalled forever. Cause they’re incompetent.)

But the thing that really broke me…we KNOW Ivenci stole a bunch of special qamek. We run at them THROUGH A GREEN POISON CLOUD. And my Rooks's just like “Huhhh? Is something possibly messing with my mind right now?”. YOU STUPID POS.

And then, ofc, we end the questline and Jacobus pops outta nowhere to spare Ivenci because a good pirate never steals and a good assassin never kills, I guess. Jacobus founds his new house to basically become a big mafia family for orphans like him which everyone is super proud of, because, if the previous installments of the game have taught us anything, it's that the Crows are deeply concerned with the well-being of orphans. Whoop dee doo, the end.

Okay, more notes. It’s been mentioned plenty already that this game has completely neutered the Crows and turned them into edgy found family freedom fighters. Personally, I'm not okay with the explanation that this is simply a different house than House Arainai. Because what the actual fuck, game. Why is Ivenci the bad guy when they're literally right about everything?! Where's my option to agree with them that a fucking murder mafia shouldn’t be the ruling force of a town, let alone the entire country? Why is the municipal government the enemy while my non-Crow Rook keeps shouting “Viva the Crows”??? Are you really telling me that the Crows are the good guy mafia and House Arainai was the bad outlier? Is that what this is?

Look, I'm fine with allying with the Crows if that’s what necessity dictates. We're trying to stop the SUPER BLIGHT here. But don’t sugarcoat that this is us joining forces with the mob. The way Veilguard presents them makes me cringe cause they're basically just leather-clad incompetent fools larping as birds. Show us the reality of this alliance. Get into the nitty-gritty. Make this world feel real. God.

I *wanted* to like this questline. Out of every country in Northern Thedas, I've always been most interested in Antiva. The whole medievalesque guilds system and merchant princes, the mediterranean romance and drama, pirates and Crows, the snazzy outfits and Spanish accents, god, normally, I'm eating that shit UP. I didn’t even think twice about which city to save. Partially because Minrathous was better fortified and Venatori seemed like the lesser evil vs. blighted water, of course, but mostly because Treviso is absolutely gorgeous and Zevran and Josephine instilled a lot of love for Antiva in me that I just don’t feel for Tevinter. I also thought that the setup was very interesting - professional assassins turned into freedom fighters of their occupied turf. And it *would* have been if they had let them remain, y'know, the actual murder mafia they always were.

But aside from my gripes about the Crows’ portrayal, the entire questline was just a total nothing burger. This is the first time ever that we're actually in Antiva, our introduction, so to speak, and what do we learn about the place? That there’s strife and betrayal among the Crows? Um, yeah, Zevran covered that fifteen years ago. There’s nothing new whatsoever. Imagine if our primary goal had actually been to help the Crows free Treviso. That we're working to loosen the Butcher's grasp on the town via strategic assassinations (i.e. actual Crow missions) that also introduce us to Treviso's people/Antivan culture (taking out someone during a theatre play, for example! The drama!), the internal politics of the Merchant princes and the municipal government's struggle to keep this occupied city from imploding. Imagine us getting caught up in this web of intrigue as we get closer and closer to the Butcher and then suddenly, we're being played. And only *then* do we start to suspect a traitor among the Crows’ ranks and the whole thing unravels. Spitballing even further, why repeat the Crow/Venatori romance in a random side quest with random people? Why not have Zara and Illario be actually in love, but he kills her for his ambition anyway? And instead of taking responsibility for his actions, he blames Lucanis for forcing his hand? Or maybe, they both thought they were playing the other and as another power hungry asshole, Zara almost respects Illario for the hussle as she dies? *Some* messiness and drama? (Cause Varric’s initial narration sequence made Zara seem like this blood-soaked femme fatale but the actual narrative gave zero fucks about that vibe. Discount Countess Bathory wannabe).

That might just be what I would have wanted and nobody else, but I still maintain that anything would have been better than this cookie-cutter, baby’s first mafia story that is beat for beat exactly what you'd expect and have seen before.

Well, this was a long rant. I don’t intend to make a habit of shitting on things others enjoy on here, but my emotions are still running high after finishing the game yesterday and you did ask. Sorry.

[elrielbaby]

So, Azriel -

Carries Elain over the threshold of the Townhouse and then sits with her in the Garden of said townhouse when she is struggling after becoming Fae.

But Azriel doesn’t actually like her.

Also, Azriel -

Is the only one to listen to her when everyone else thinks she’s mad. Oh, also is the only one to figure out that she’s a seer and thus frees her from the murky realm.

But he’s just using her as a ‘rebound’

Again, Azriel -

Risks life and limb to rescue Elain from a situation that would very likely result in his death. Would have gone with or without anyone else. His wings are shredded in the process & still he carries Elain all the way back to camp until Rhys takes her from him.

But he just wants to have sex with her.

Oh and Azriel -

Stays up with Elain past 2am listening to her garden plans.

But he’s only interested in her because he believes it’s his ‘right’.

That’s without mentioning, how he answered her question during their first meeting, how he went still at the sight of her during ACOWAR (as Cassian did at the sight of Nesta), how his shadows lighten at the sight of her smile, how he takes the potatoes from her in ACOFAS, and makes everyone wait for her to sit before eating.

That’s without mentioning, how he made a joke in order to ease her discomfort during that same dinner, or how he refused to track L*ciens movements because of her.

Nor am I mentioning, his alarm when Cassian tells him of Nesta & Elain’s fight, and how his shadows swarm him OR how those very same shadows are poised to strike in her defence during another argument.

This notion that Azriel is some sort of ‘fuck boy’ is purely born out of peoples minds because I promise you, it’s nothing to do with what’s written in the book. People simply don’t like that he cares for, perhaps even loves Elain. I’m so tired of the wilful ignorance.