#The knowledge that in order to be accepted in this world you have to hide who you are.

[everythingundertheskycomics]

Pretend.

Hippo Crush

2/4

Previous

[thiefcatmoth]

pac: how do people around you see you?

general reading. pick a pile, listening to your intuition. if nothing resonates, leave this pac behind.

pile 1

soft and sharp, warm and cold, changeable, but combining opposites so harmoniously. you have the ability to hide secrets inside and surprise others with little unusual bits of your personality. you have an inner stability, the ability to accept the twists of fate and use them to your advantage. people think that in feelings you give yourself to the bottom, both good and bad. some people find you too authoritarian, but you have a natural ability to make (or advise) others to do what you need or want. despite the general impression, some see your fragile spiritual core, and some may even say that you give them your light. even if you do not plan to illuminate someone's life, it happens on its own. many people do not strive to see beyond the facade that you have erected and may not realize that you can hide wisdom, knowledge, depth of words behind jokes and light-mindedness, a mask that you deliberately put up for others.

pile 2

others see you as a loyal, hardworking person, although not without a hint of something… gloomy? not hostility, but something dark or gloomy. you work even when obstacles arise, your persistence is admired by others, maybe even became an example or a source of inspiration for someone. at the same time, a special feminine energy emanates from you - cool, fresh, even a little youthful. energy that attracts, like a flower in the morning dew, but not everyone likes it. in general, you give the impression of someone who is difficult to gain trust, you don't let everyone in your inner circle, some think that you are too difficult to find the keys to. I think they just do not realize that you choose people based on your emotions and your inner circle is so important to you in order to develop, learn and work on yourself.

pile 3

some people think that you are capable of doing anything with your own hands. every little bit of what you do - art, handmade, cooking, whatever - has a special uniqueness, everything is a meaningful masterpiece. people see great wisdom in you, even when your words are not liked or seem poisonous. in addition, you know how to use all your knowledge for good. some people think that you are overprotective? the energy of excessive care, maybe even an attempt to prove that your views on everyday life and the material world are the most correct. someone may think that you were greatly influenced by your ancestors, and that is why your advice, even when you talk about something modern, can be perceived as outdated, similar to ancient wisdom. they are never devoid of meaning. few will be able to understand that helping others and caring that you do is not your favorite thing or a way to show yourself. these are just intuitive actions.

pile 4

the energy of an intelligent but closed person. clearly with a mind of your own, with clear internal and external boundaries. do you like black humor or sarcasm? or maybe there are notes of healthy cynicism in you? people sense that there is a storm of energy hidden inside you, it seems to them that your inner strength and impulses are more than enough for your desires and goals. for the sake of your goals, you can be assertive, choose smart paths and apply your efforts correctly. but others think that you are too free with your time, as if you own it. and some catch too many flirting signals. there is something in your behavior that reminds them of a socialite. to someone you may even seem frivolous in those moments when you deviate from your mask and image. someone notices that you often change your habits, style, lifestyle, and not everyone will understand that this is not a burden, not forced. you are able to adapt to any physical changes, from food and apartment to clothes, workouts and weight. it's like you are changing subtly every day. just don't pay attention if someone ignorantly considers it insignificant.

thanks for the reading!

dividers by @strangergraphics-archive, all images are not mine

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPxDC prompt. Fae!Danny x Jason. Dead on main. Death of a Fairy Tale. or

"Oh no! This tricky hooman stole my heart! What should I do?" *becomes a leader of his court and, just in case, overthrows the tyrant Pariah Dark in order to allow marriages with representatives of other races and live happily ever after with Jay*.

~~~~~

 “You're not allowed to be here. This is not your territory.”

Jason barely had time to catch his breath after escaping from the hot dog vendor when someone noticed him hiding in the bushes.

There were no rides for children or food vans in this park, so Todd didn't understand why anyone would cling to this territory but the guy looked at him with obvious concern. And well, after the morning's adventures, Jay didn't have any energy for another conflict at all. This kid looked pale and thin, so it didn't look like fighting with him would get him anything.

“Calm down, I'm just passing by. What's your problem, dude?”

“I live somewhere ne...here.”

Jason rolled his eyes. It's clear that the guy lived nearby, but it's unlikely that he had a house. The lack of a T-shirt and shoes hinted that in front of him was also a street rat who most likely had not yet learned how to defend his belongings. Poor guy. But this is definitely not Jason's business.

However, did he really spend the night outside in the open air? Sleeping on the bench was a last choice even for Jason. This might be acceptable options in some quiet provincial town, not in Gotham.

“I mean, what are you doing outside?”

Young Phantom checks his glamour, but finds no flaws in it. This man in front of him must be very knowledgeable and experienced, despite his young age, since he immediately recognized him as not a human being. For Danny, who lived with other fairies in Fairyland all his childhood and came to this dimension for the first time, the outside always meant the world of human. Fae shocked and upset that he was discovered so quickly. Haven't people almost forgotten about their existence? The elders would swear a lot if they found out that he had failed. The boy carefully orders the vine and clover to cover the circle of mushrooms, hiding the front door from the human. He was the only one of the entire brood entrusted by Undergrowth to start a practice in a city where there are almost no plants and sunlight, and faeling did not want to let down the mentor who took him under his wing at all.

The old Fairies claim that people are mean and narrow-minded, but Danny himself is intrigued by these creatures and therefore hopes that he will be able to come to an agreement with the boy and to continue his research without obstacles. Danny intends to take the exam for the right to be called an adult fae this decade, which means he has no right to make mistakes. But still, forcing a guy to dance until he drops dead from exhaustion or make him wander along the paths of this small green area without being able to find a way out, as he was taught to get rid of pests at home, seemed too cruel. This boy, just like him, is still a cub and he is here by accident, not to encroach on their possessions. They need not quarrel.

“Don't banish me. I'm just trying to learn.”

“To do what?”

“To steal.” Danny blushes, realizing that such honesty was unnecessary. Stupid, stupid...People know that faeries can take their names, thereby gaining power over them. Now this cub will definitely decide that he has come to cause harm and he will not be able to learn anything useful and interesting. Phantom quickly makes excuses. “Nothing important! I only borrowed trinkets and fruits.”

“You're new to this, aren't you?”

“Is it that noticeable?”

“Pretty noticeable, yes.”

The boy looked at him almost pityingly. And the Phantom didn't like it.

That's how the spirits and other fairies used to look at him when they found out he was only halfa. Because of this fact, his abilities were belittled and not taken seriously too often. What's wrong with that? He's dead just like everyone else, even if not completely.

And now he's screwed up, not even because of his nature, but because of his sluggishness. It was especially unpleasant, as it was deserved. He should have spent his time more productively, but the flowers bred with the help of humans were so interesting and talked about their longing for the sun with such sadness that fae did not dare to interrupt them.

Jason finished both of the stolen hot dogs and leaved the park. The guy still follow him and stares intently, almost without blinking.

“Stop it. What do you want?”

“I study. You seem experienced. “

“People don't really like being stared at like this, in case you didn't know. Back off.”

“Really?”

Jason was ready to be outraged that the kid thought he was an idiot but the tramp from the park looked really puzzled. It seems that if he ever had parents, they didn't care about the boy, since they didn't explain to him that atypical behavior could add him problems. The boy is lucky that Jay is an asshole only when absolutely necessary.

“You're weird. Try to keep your mouth shut near others.”

“Okay.”

Jason took a few minutes to think and sighed. Todd could not leave this strange child alone, because damn conscience would not allow it. He can't survive alone. He will either wander after some other person and become a victim of trafficking or he will be at the beck and call of some assholes in the late afternoon. Jason cursed his bleeding heart once more and promised himself that he would keep the boy by his side no longer than necessary. Jay couldn't afford to be responsible for another mouth to feed. Summer has already come to an end and it was worth starting to save a little money and store things in case of early cold weather.

“If I teach you some of my skills will you promise to stay away from the places where I…work?”

“Maybe. Is this a deal?”

“Yes, if you'll agree, idiot. “

Danny nods and his new acquaintance continues.

“First of all, we'll get you shoes and some clothes. I don't need you to pick up tetanus and some viral crap.”

Danny smiles a little, trying not to make it too noticeable. Great trick.

He nodded to indicate understanding rather than agreeing, and the boy did not ask for verbal confirmation. It seems that he is not completely hopeless at deceiving people. Phantom couldn't wait to tell Clockwork or Frostbite about his success.

They wound through streets and rooftops for a long time until they reached other man's temporary shelter, and Danny had to admit that the man's decision to borrow more clothes was very clever. Strange sharp things and narrow bags of biological fluid were found between the houses disgustingly often. The elders are right about something? Danny must admit. Some people are nasty. They didn't even clean the settlement they live in properly.

A foul-smelling device for carrying things flew into the face of fae while he thoughtfully followed the boy telling him something about removing so-called tires from the iron inanimate horses.

“Dude, stop fighting with a trash bag. You'll stand guard while I give the customer the goods, okay?”

“Fine.” To be honest, the intern was ready to cry from the injustice of life and rush home, and he was only stopped by the desire to visit the observatory, which his new acquaintance mentioned when fae complained that because of the smoke and smog the stars would probably not be visible at night.

Danny realized that he did not regret his decision when, a couple of minutes later, he heard his human quarreling with adult specimen. Judging by the conversation, the man refused to pay the price for the things brought to him and even threatened to hit Phantom's guide. Danny was annoyed by this and decided to intervene a little. To his good fortune, on the balcony of this vile man there was a pot with withering petunias and they did not mind helping lil fae teach their owner manners. A slight whiff of magic and the pot falls on the deceiver's head and human begins to choke on the roots that climb right into his mouth. Danny giggles, congratulating his green comrades on their successful revenge. Other boy doesn't waste any time and grabs the bucks that fell out of the customer's hands and orders new boy to run.

Danny spent several days with human cub and really learned a lot about these creatures. Despite the fact that such a pastime was exciting, he needed to at least create the illusion of practice the fae skills.

It is dangerous to ask a person who knows who he is about this but teachers will be upset if he does not make an attempt. And despite the fact that the people around him seem scary, Nocturn will be much scarier in anger if he finds out that Phantom is such a loser.

“Ma- Can I have your name?” Danny muttered uncertainly and immediately panicked at his own impudence. “Sorry!”

“Jason.”

Todd was in a good mood, as luck had been with him for the last few days, and the new companion was not at all as useless as it seemed to him from the beginning. He was able to hide so well that no one could detect them, and managed to bring fresh fruits, vegetables and mushrooms to their safe house. However, there were problems with the last one, since this strange dude sometimes brought toadstools and satan's boletes to their apartment, which he managed to get from unknown places. Jason thought he was going to have a heart attack the first time he caught child happily eating raw fly agaric. Indeed, if Jay hadn't found him this boy would probably have died of poisoning in that park by now. Todd had to persuade him to bring only chanterelles, which he could confidently identify as edible and not fear for their lives every time the boy tries to help find food. And his padawan really managed to find them. In Gotham. Holy shit. Maybe this park, so fiercely guarded by the boy, was another secret area for Poison Ivy's experiments? However, poisonous specimens will not be wasted either, since you never know when you will need to defend yourself without entering into a fight, but acting more subtly.

“Real name! Real one!” The boy's eyes were as big as saucers and he became very worried and waved his hands as if trying to shake off invisible sticky threads from his fingertips. “You shouldn't say your actual name! Why did you do that? You shouldn't have given it to me.”

“There are a lot of Jason's around. Why do you care about that?”

“You're not just some Jason, you're my Jason, you're important to me. It's dangerous if someone has your name. Then that someone can make you do bad things.”

Tears began pouring down boy's face and Jason was surprised by such a violent reaction. Todd doesn't think there's anything to worry about, since he didn't tell the stranger his last name. He often introduces himself in different ways. Just, for some reason, something made him be honest this time. But how would this guy know that?

“Well…You're not just anyone. We're friends. I don't think you're going to rat on me to the cops or anything. So it's okay. “ Jay tries to calm the newcomer down.

“Friends?”

“Yes. Friends forever?” Jason teasingly holds out his little finger, offering a childish oath that he recently taught his padawan.

“Forever.” The boy supports the oath, and then, after thinking for a second, leans closer to Todd and whispers. "I'm Danny, just so you know."

“Good. I'll remember.”

The young fae is overcome with euphoria. He took the name! He did it! But that was all the other boy had, apart from a rusty tire iron, so it probably wasn't right or friendly to keep it. The human cub helped him. Danny couldn't keep such a gift. He didn't even really try to get his name. “Jason is your name.”

“That's right, buddy.”

“I won't call you that name.” Where I come from, even spouses rarely know each other's names. Danny wanted to assure his friend that he should not be afraid that he would abuse his power. “ I like you so I will take full responsibility for the possession of such a gift, don't worry.”

“Hah, in order to take responsibility, you already need to at least marry me as a moral compensation, given the number of brain cells killed by your antics. “

“Well, if I have to, then I will. When we're older.”

Jason snorts and shakes his head. It's probably not love, since they're just kids, but still, Jason thinks that if all autumn evenings were like this, he wouldn't mind spending his life with Danny, snuggling closer to the boy while they both bask under the same blanket. No matter how many times a day they managed to roll in the mud and fall into the trash can, the boy always gave off a light scent reminiscent of spring greens, which reminded Todd of something warm and cozy. Maybe a home? Although when his father was not in prison yet, his house smelled more like the stench of cigarette smoke and mold.  So Danny was more like a hope for a good home that they write about in books.

On their free evenings Jason usually entertained them by reading. Danny has always been an attentive listener, reacting vividly. After stroking the battered cover of a new book he found, Jason puts it aside. He's too tired today, and  just wants to listen.

Noticing this, Danny begins to chirp about his homeland. His stories are like fairy tales, too bright and colorful for the stone Jungle. Jay realized a long time ago that his friend had something like a defense mechanism. Todd himself snapped and fought when the world was too cruel, this guy escaped to his fictional world, where he was safer and happier. His friend could have been a great writer someday. The descriptions of Princess Dorathea and her cruel brother, pharaoh with an unusual passion for technology and ultra-recyclo vegetarian queen of plants were so detailed and vivid that they seemed true. Danny's imagination contained the whole world.

When the first snowflakes fall to the ground, Danny says that this means that his friend Frostbite will soon come to pick him up. Jason is honestly not ready for such a turn of events. He promised himself that he would not be around another boy for longer than necessary, but he managed to get attached. He hopes that this statement is just another one of his companion's fantasies and forgets about it for a while.

A snowstorm is raging in the city when Danny does not return home. The snowfall does not stop for several days, and Todd realizes that his friend left him, although all his belongings are left in their apartment. He hopes that someone really came for the boy, and not that in the spring his body will be found in one of the melting snowdrifts.  After a few months, when the canned homemade vegetables carefully cooked by Danny are coming to an end, and the mold, sitting alone  in a corner of the ceiling all winter, felt the first the warm rays of the sun, Todd decides not to waste energy on useless worries and hopes.

Soon, as Danny would put it, Batman steals Jason. Todd doesn't really trust the old man at first, but he teaches him to be Robin, and, well, Robin is cool. He's magic. Robin is an urban legend, a spirit worthy of being the hero of Danny's favorite stories. Robin is Jason's connection not only to the city itself, but also to his past. Robin does not need to think about whether he should grieve not only for his mother but also for his friend. Robin is more. There is not only strength and hope in this uniform, but also memories, nostalgia and  humanness. Therefore, Todd is not ready to give up the suit, even if he understands Grayson's displeasure. Because when he goes out on a patrol, the longing becomes less, and he feels that he is getting better and closer to something important. It helps.

No.

It helped.

And then he died.

And things are getting worse by the day, hah.

~~~A few hits with a crowbar later~~~

Jason learns about a new attempt of eco-terrorism relatively late, when he is officially called to help. Even so he stays at the place of the fight before the rest of the family. Firstly, because this time Ivy decided to start destruction from the closest to Crime Alley park, and secondly because Ivy's creations always pay little attention to him. Even the famous pollen has almost no effect on Hood.

Making his way through the furiously writhing vines, Red Hood notices the enemy and realizes that it is not Ivy, but decides that he will analyze the situation during the battle and rushes forward.

“Hey! Don't touch B, you.. “Almost flying into a guy with such a familiar face, the Hood slows down sharply “... pointy-eared.”

A guy with sparkling green energy in his hand and a vigilante with a pistols in each hand freeze looking at each other.

“Man, is it you?”

Snow-white hair, glowing green eyes, transparent dragonfly-like wings and razor-sharp claws are completely unfamiliar to Todd, but facial features, expressions and a bracelet with star pendants that Jay gave Danny for his birthday, adorning one of the impressive polished horns, allow to recognize him.

“Jay! It's been a long time, my friend.” Hearing Todd's voice, despite the sound changed by the helmet, the creature calms down. “You've grown up a lot.”

“And you're still so short. Wow. And, by the way, I can't believe you're still keep it.” Red puts the safety of the guns and then points one of them at the jewellery. “It's from a dollar store, nothing special.”

John says goodbye to the hope of a day off after the mission, cursing the manners of the bat and his offspring. Is a couple of days without the risk of interdimensional conflict really that too much to ask for?

“You gave it to me. That's why it's special.”

The creature smiles and Todd feels his face blushing. It's a good thing he's still wearing his helmet. Danny looks too…magical…in every sense.

“Do you know him, Hood?” Of course, Bat cannot stay out of the conversation when nothing is holds him back.

“No.”

“Yes.”  Danny denies the statement of Hood, proudly puffs out his chest and declares. “He was my first. He calls himself Hood these days? How strange.”

Bat gasps and exhales indignantly.

Jason quickly connects the fact that his friend is definitely not human with the possibility that Danny's stories were true.

“Name!” Trying to fix the chaos that his friend is trying to involve them in, Red Hood hurries to explain. “He's talking about damn name. I'm the first one who gave...”

“Oh, come on, spoilsport. He almost believed me.” The fairy winks playfully and Jason has to do his best to focus on the mission and not on the guy. “You're my betrothed anyway. And, hey, I collected the library as a wedding gift.”

“Hm.” Hood rolls his eyes. This joke about their childhood promise would have been hilarious if he hadn't felt the old man's rising pressure behind his back. So, returning to the problem, he still needs to get these two away from each other as soon as possible. Neither Danny nor Bruce has a calm personality, and Jason didn't want to start Danny's acquaintance with Alfred by giving first aid to these dummies. “So what's all the fuss about? Are you like um.. Ivy's pet-pixie or what?”

Now John Constantine, who carefully watched the meeting from the sidelines, almost feels his blood pressure rising too. Compare faeries with garden pests. What was Batman's son thinking about, showing such disrespect? He wanted them to have more problems or what?

“Hm? Who is Ivy? I've never heard of her. To be honest, I'm only here because our gate was disturbed.” The fairy chirped angrily and, with a nervous flutter of his wings, flew up to the bushes. His finger pointed accusingly at the crushed mushrooms that John and Batsy had landed on when they unsuccessfully attacked Dr. Isley. “But even though your companions' behavior is inexcusable, I don't blame you, of course. I am glad that we met again because of this incident, Tagetes.”

The Faerie circle...John hadn't seen this in years. Damn Gotham. He difenetly doesn't want the problems of this crazy city to fall under his and Shazam's responsibility. Now it is clear why Rogue disappeared so quickly. She probably knew about it and wanted to make them someone else's problem. Damn it twice, John should have sent a message instead of coming to Gotham to discuss business with Wayne. Being uninvited guests of such mischievous and malicious hosts does not bode well.

“You are lucky that the Fright Knight is not on duty today. But someone will have to answer for it. Is it really so hard to look at your feet? Or is this a deliberate provocation? I demand an apology.”

“No, enough games for you. They're a little busy chasing someone, in case you didn't notice.” Jason starts pulling on his friend's hand, intending to take him out of the park. Next to these paranoids, it's better not to ask an old friend about anything. “Only good little fairies are invited to my safe house to taste my signature lasagna today, so stop trying to give my old man a heart attack, okay?”

“Wait. Is this Willis?” The fairy's eyes narrow and he looks at the cloaked dark figure with disapproval.

"No, another jerk. B has a problem with adoptions and that's the reason I'm now part of his brood." Jason reluctantly explains. "He literally dragged me off the streets without consent after I tried to take the tires off his car."

“Oh my Ancients, he did what?! But you're mine! He had no right to steal you.” Danny indignantly rustled the leaves of the closest trees.

“I prefer to be considered as my own man, thank you very much.”

“Riiight…but still, speaking absolutely one hundred percent theoretically, who would you rather stay with, darling? If only you were mine~”

“Ja-..Don't let yourself be fooled, Red Hood. You can't trust him. Ten or even fifty years spent on a prank don't mean anything to this creature.” Bruce doesn't look happy with how at ease Todd is with the threat, but frankly, he rarely looks happy at all, so the crime lord doesn't attach too much importance to it.

"Wow. Rude. This is partially true, but it still hurts. Jason is a friend. I won't do anything to him and I don't demand anything from him. I can't say that about the rest of you. I was preparing for a long-awaited vacation, and because of your fuss I have a new bunch of paperwork to do. What can you say in your defense?"

The boy with the snow-white hair didn't look really upset, but just because there was still a smile on his face, it couldn't be said that he wasn't furious. Next to fairies, all human senses became enemies, not allies.

Despite the deceptive good-naturedness of merrily fluttering his wings guy, John was on high alert. Short-tempered, playful and obnoxious temperament were both a blessing and a curse when working with these creatures. Fairies skillfully searched for loopholes in contracts and in general were the best deceivers among those who could only tell the truth. Faeries prefer to bend victims to their will with words, but they are skilled users of the magic of nature and chaos. They also, despite the business acumen as strong as the alligator's mouth closing strength, were willing to play cat-and-mouse with those who dared to turn to him for help or just walk near their possessions. And this specimen was also clearly not one of the fairies that Morningstar had taken over control, since his energy reeked of Infinite Realms. Unknown territory. John urgently needs to come up with some ingenious plan to get everyone out of this fighting safe and relatively unscathed and…

“Fuck off, B. I told you he already has my name. If he wanted to hurt me, he would have done it at any time. You should show more respect for your future son-in-law, you know.”

“Jason, honey, since when do street rats hang out with bats?” Danny obviously didn't have much sympathy for the Gotham vigilante before, but because of his story, their chances of getting along tended to zero.

“Oh, come on, don't even start this conversation. What is more important…Who would I rather stay with? Hm…Let's say, um, theoretically, of course…If your fiance was killed by one very very bad cruel clown, what would you do, Stardust?

"I would tear clown molecule by molecule."

“Yes, yes! Right!” Jason pats Danny on the shoulder and turns to Batman. “See, that's how you should have reacted.”

Constantine: …What an Addams family. I'm leaving. I've already seen enough. If you get kidnapped, don't call me. Damn freaks.

Come with me now to see my world

Where there's beauty beyond your dreams

Strangers Like Me - Phil Collins

[furiousgoldfish]

How free are you? A Poll

Instructions: If the answer to the question is 'yes', give yourself 1 point. If the answer is 'no', take 1 point away. If the answer is 'maybe', or 'I don't know', or 'unsure', don't add any points.

Can you wear whatever you want, without having to explain yourself or worry about getting berated for it?

Can you choose what to do with your own time, without having anyone criticize or guilt you for it?

Can you choose what you eat every day, or at least reject the food you don't want to eat?

Do you have access to food that is nourishing, healthy and unlikely to cause any health issues in the long term?

Can you choose freely who you spend your time with, without reprecussions?

Can you choose what you do for a job? Can you change it without severe consequences for your financial stability?

Are you allowed to go wherever you please, if your finances allow for it?

Do you have a community of people you're connected to, who have the same or similar beliefs and circumstances as you do?

Do you have a network (or a family) of people who you consider to be 'your people', who accept you and care about you?

Will you be okay and taken care of in case of illness, injury, incident or a disaster?

Can you choose your own religion, or reject a religion, without severe social consequences?

Do you have knowledge of your basic human rights, and are you informed on what to do if some of these rights get violated?

Can you go about life without ever worrying about physical violence occuring from a person you know and are around?

Can you go about life without worrying about physical violence coming from a stranger?

Can you walk the planet without being self-conscious of your body and how you're perceived, and being objectified or devalued because of it?

Do you feel safe and comfortable in most of the places you exist in?

Can you get by without taking special measures, such as hiding, lying, escaping, locking yourself in, avoiding certain places and activities, avoiding certain people, changing your name, in order to be safe in the world?

Do you have safe access to communication with people you want to communicate with?

Can you access the money you need without having to ask or explain why you need it?

Do you feel safe that your basic physical needs, such as food, clothing, sanitary items, tools, shelter and utilities are and will stay accessible to you?

Do you have secure access to healthcare, without having to severely worry about the financial aspect of it, or about someone barring you from access?

Do you have reliable information about your own health, and about how the activities you do might affect it, both for better and for worse?

Are you allowed to change your mind about how you feel about the issues in the world, your own circumstances, people around you, your faith and your politics, without being outcasted from your group of peers?

Can you go trough life without worrying about a hate crime being committed against you, both by people you know and strangers?

Is your health and physical state of body stable enough to work a full time job?

Can you secure enough money to live comfortably, without your physical or psychological health suffering and deteriorating for it?

Can you comfortably communicate your needs, feelings, problems, struggles and affection to others, when you want to?

Can you speak your mind most of the time, without worrying about reprecussions?

Can you be open about your interests, hobbies, beliefs, sexuality, identity, politics and relationships with most of the people around you?

Can you comfortably speak about the circumstances and facts of your life, without being corrected or denied to name some of them?

Can you recognize when a choice has been taken away from you, and things have been decided for you? If yes, can you also walk away from this, and refuse to take on the consequences?

Can you comfortably place blame on the people who have caused you distress and pain in your life, without any pushback or criticism for doing so?

Do you have support, knowledge and resources you need in order to deal with grief and tragedy?

Can you feel comfortable and at ease around all people you are around with?

Can you freely confront a person in your life who has attempted to cause injustice to you, even if that person is in position of authority to you? Do you feel safe and able to do so?

Can you freely choose your sexual partner(s), or refuse any you don't want without having to worry about their feelings, assault, your financial situation or your safety?

Can you choose freely to undo any consequences sex had on your body, if you don't want it to be happening to you?  (abortion rights, skip if it doesn't apply to you)

Can you break up your relationships, parental bonds and marriages to other people without having to worry about survial, physical safety or keeping a roof over your head?

Do you have information and resources to immediately recognize red flags of being lured into a scam, exploitative work, grooming, abuse, sexual abuse, cults, human trafficking, or similar situations?

Can you live without being severely affected by human made-disasters, such as wars, chemical damage to the environment, mass destruction and shootings?

Ideally, in a functional society, a human being should have all of these freedoms. I understand for most, if not all of us, to have every single of these points is impossible. If you are in the negative points, your situation is dire and freedom has been stripped from you to the inhumane level. For reference, the score I got for this was 9! 39 or 40 would be the ideal, which I don't believe anyone will get.

If your answer is 'no', for questions about having access to information, having knowledge and resources, this isn't your fault. You are not solely responsible for figuring out every single aspect of it yourself, this should have been covered in your education and upbringing. Also, if you're underage, questions like being able to work a job, securing money and choosing sexual partners do not apply to you, you should instead be protected from having to worry about any of that until you reach the adulthood or age of consent. If you are having to worry about any of that, the answer is automatically no. If you have no worries about that, you can give yourself a point for each of these.

Disclaimer: This poll was made by one person, using personal ideas about freedom in this world, I am sure I forgot to include many things, please do add in the comments other perils to freedom that are not mentioned here. It is not a definitive statement on human freedom, only a reference point and a source of information.

[sirenmoontarot]

Shadow reading 🪞🥀🌑

What shadow aspect is affecting your life that you need to be aware of?

Hi! I am Alla, and today i pulled some ancient treasures from my hidden chest. Let’s see what the Oracles have to tell you! 🌊🐚🔮🌑

𝑀𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓅 ~ 𝒫𝓈𝓎𝒸𝒽𝒾𝒸 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ~ 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈

1. Bracelet

NEGATIVE REINFORCEMENT PATTERN

For those who picked this group, you guys might often get stuck in a negative reinforcement pattern; it may be in one aspect of your life or to your life in general. The reality is that you are doing what you are doing, not because you really want to do it but to avoid something that you don't want. Instead of doing what you are doing to get something that you DO want, you are more motivated by negative stimuli such as fear and insecurities to do what you are currently doing than by a goal or actual aspiration. This can also lead you to feel lost in life and make you seem like you are just running away from things without a clear compass north of having a firm grasp of what you want, being that the reason for what you do. This can also lead you to resentment and unfulfillment in your life.. For people in this group, the advice is to be less fearful and insecure and instead ask yourself what you really want to do.

2. Blue and white seashell

AUTHENTICITY

For the people that have chosen this group, the shadow and karmic aspect you need to work on is authenticity. You are not being authentic with who you are, nor are you being honest about yourself with anyone. Each person comes with a unique essence, like an energetic signature, and our unique purpose, thoughts, feelings, unique desires, needs, and role within the greater universe are embedded in that essence. Growing up we are made to believe that if we are certain way, we will be punished, and therefore it sends a message to our unconscious that showing the truth of ourselves is unsafe. That we have to mold ourselves in order to be acceptable and therefore, loved. Anything that is rejected becomes something we are vulnerable about, and then we become split, and hide those parts. We can only be authentic to the degree that we know ourselves, for this reason, it is important to look inside of yourself. Aunthenticity is when your inside matches your outside. It is the conscious mending of the incoherences and incongruences between your inner self and outer self; what you do and project to the world. You have to face yourself, the shame you feel about your vulnerabilities because you can only make a change to what is real. Unless you know and admit to what you really think, feel, and want to do, you are in an illusion, and you can't get anywhere. It is like building a castle in the air, it will crumble. What do you really think, feel, need, and want to do? What is real?

3. Pearlescent box

YOU DON'T KNOW BUT YOU THINK YOU KNOW

For the people who chose this pile, you guys often fall in this shadow aspect of thinking and believing you know the truth about a situation, what is going on in your life, but in reality, you don't know. The truth is far behind from what you are interpreting it. Or it can happen because you miss an important piece of information that can make you misinterpret a situation. It can make us misguide ourselves, making our lives harder. In this case is important that you allow some outside input, and not create barriers with others in order to listen to them, despite that sometimes we think we may have more knowledge than others, more experience, and its legit! But for you guys, sometimes you fall in this psychic trap that makes you stuck, and misjuding situations. And the truth is that, the reality might actually be better than you expect! To heal this, you need to accept that you are having a subjective view, thinking it is an objective one. You need to allow yourself to consider other people's perspectives, or other ways to approach the situation to enrich your view and actually see the reality of the matter, which is not what you are thinking, or telling yourself it is.

4. Greenish seashell

THE FAULTY COMPASS

For the people that chose this group, what you need to see is that sometimes, your emotions, instead of serving as an accurate guide--an inner compass pointing towards north— they mislead you. You might think they are a real perception of reality, of your truth, but in reality they are not. You might even confuse them with intuition, a gut feeling... Due to past experiences, your inner compass has been distorted and messed up, due to many reasons; thoughts passed on to us, information we are fed, beliefs we are conditioned to adopt, experiences we lived and the meaning we assigned to those experiences... Sometimes when all that emotion overwhelms you about a situation, it most likely is the faulty compass at work. It is important you get in contact with yourself again, with your personal truth, and with your emotions, to understand the why of those emotions to find alignment again and follow your internal guidance system, that will accurately lead you to happiness and fulfillment.

5. Silver hand mirror

THE FILTER

For you guys, you tend to see everything with a negative, detrimental or limiting filter. This can happen to certain situations in life or is it a general habit you have. This filter it is something that distorts your ability to see the truth, what is real about a situation. This can happen due to past experiences that condition and shape the way we see and live life. This can happen about anything, in jobs, relationships, etc. There can be beneficial or detrimental filters, but what we should know about them is that they make you believe your subjective perspective is an objective perspective of the situation. To avoid this, when you find yourself with the lens of this detrimental filter, you can understand why and how this filter appeared, and consider every other perspective of the situations at hand to get a more objective truth, and therefore make better decisions.

6. Seashell brooch

SELF H4RM

For you guys, who chose this pile, the shadow aspect that you need to be aware of, is how you engage in self-h4rm in many forms and multiple ways in your life. You might be used to being very harsh on yourself, not allowing yourself to be happy, to give you, or even feel deserving of what you want. You might think that by punishing yourself you will never do the same mistake again, or that you can do penance and be more likely to restore a sense of your goodness. If we grew up in antagonized households, we often learned negative mechanisms to cope with those situations that your child self didn't have the ways to properly handle. We maybe blamed yourself for what wasn't your fault just to avoid feeling powerless or like a victim , or to stay close and feel connected and loved by the person who hurt you. Or we may also be even making choices that harm us in favor of other people's best interests. If you chose this pile, be more aware of the ways you harm yourself, and ask yourself the question ''What would someone who loves themselves do?''

𓇬 𓇬 𓇬

Thank you so much for reading 🤍 wishing you love, and lots of blessings 💖🌌

🔮 Visit my shop to get a detailed reading, and more services!

Alla 𓇬 @sirenmoontarot

Beautiful pngs from @saizun

[mortal-ethos]

On a Minthara rant again. Content warning for talk of trauma.

I hate when people say "she's actually kind by Drow standards"

First of all. I hate that reasoning because replace "Drow" with any real life group and you'll get the picture of why it's bad, but I'm not here to talk about how D&D racism pisses me off by reflecting and encouraging real world racism.

Secondly, Minthara is a kind person, end of sentence. But she's not nice. She's not going to exchange pleasantries. If she thinks she can trust the person, respects them, thinks they're worth the effort, she is genuinely kind and caring. This doesn't just happen with Tav/Durge, you can see her take this role on with quite a few companions even if it's behind the colder, pragmatic exterior she's been traumatized to keep up. She may not be the most compassionate person, that is true because being compassionate is often met with being murdered in the Underdark. But she is earnest, she is thoughtful, she worries for the people close to her all the time because she's hyper-vigilant (again, trauma). And you learn if you romance her in Act 1, when you rescue her in Act 2, that she desperately craves connection and affection. You learn how she desperately wants someone to see her and care about her, she wants to feel safe around someone because NOWHERE is safe for her. She is sympathetic, you learn from her after you defeat Ketheric. She's very understanding and observant. She's not used to kindness and people treating her with such, because it's usually done as they try to stab her in the back or poison her. Being kind is about being intentional and mindful. She's not nice, but she's very intentional.

She was raised to hide her emotions. To not show any sign of weakness. To not trust anyone. She was raised with exceptionally high standards. I was raised very similarly (aside from the assassination attempts) and it's part of why I love her character so much and why it's so upsetting when people don't give her the attention she deserves and think she's just the Hot Evil Drow Companion TM.

For my background, I was raised with a strict military father. My mother raised me on true crime and Law & Order: SVU. I knew about the Manson murders, the Branch Davidians and the timeline of the siege in Waco, knew what was in Jeffrey Dahmer's blue tubs, I could pick Ted Bundy out of a lineup before I knew my fucking times tables. I wish I was fucking kidding. I thought the details of these serial killers' crimes were common knowledge until COLLEGE. I grew up terrified all the time. I grew up with super high expectations and was never good enough, but was still always the trophy child and needed to be perfect for them to brag about me. I grew up raised under the belief that if you don't have a certain trait or do things a certain way, you don't deserve to live. I thought I wasn't a human being for most of my life because I had shut down all emotions, and had suicidal ideation by the age of 4. I don't remember most of my life and I couldn't tell you what my happiest moment of my life was a couple years ago, because I couldn't remember any. I grew up always facing the door to a building or room so I could see who entered at all times. I was raised that you keep knives or martial weapons around you at all times in case of an attack.

Trauma like that doesn't fade easily, it takes YEARS and I'm blessed I found a therapist that I work well with and have been able to get out of that hazardous environment. Minthara hasn't. She's surrounded by war and death and threats at all times, and she hasn't had someone she can truly confide in, in a long time. People that have closed off due to trauma are often some of the kindest people you'll ever meet, but they don't know how to accept it or offer it themselves. They don't know how to feel emotions, and it's really scary. Add on to that the mental torture and abuse she suffered in the cult, along with physical abuse, and she's terrified. There's nothing in the world that she is more afraid of than Orin. If you romance her, what do you think she's most afraid of after Orin's death?

It's losing you. Losing that safe person, that person she loves, the person that she can allow herself to care about and show kindness to, the one she can accept kindness from without worrying.

Her writing is so fucking well done and tells you everything you need to know about her, I just wish people would listen.

[aventurineswife]

I'm in need of some tragic romance so is it possible for you to write Jing Yuan (and any more characters of your choice) with an emanator of abundance reader? I know we don't have any emanator of abundance in game yet so you can be creative with the reader's power or you don't have to write them at all

Bound by Abundance, Torn by Time

Summary: Jing Yuan, the Arbiter-General of the Xianzhou Luofu, finds himself drawn to you, an Emanator of Abundance blessed with eternal life but cursed with the inability to experience the peace of mortality. Despite the growing affection between you, you are haunted by the knowledge that his life is fleeting while yours stretches endlessly. When the Denizens of Abundance threaten the Luofu, you fight alongside him, but a fatal blow meant for him forces you to confront the cruel truth of your existence. In the end, your powers cannot save him, leaving you alone to grieve in a world where time moves forward without him.

Tags: Jing Yuan x Reader, Emanator of Abundance!Reader, Angst, Tragic Romance, Immortality, Mortal x Immortal, Hurt/Comfort, Battle Scenes, Slow Burn.

Warnings: Themes of Mortality and Loss, Descriptions of Injury and Battle Violence, Emotional Grief and Heartbreak, Major Character Death (Jing Yuan).

The sound of soft rain pattering against the leaves echoed through the Xianzhou Luofu, a tranquil rhythm masking the undertones of a galaxy steeped in tension. In the gardens of the Arbiter-General’s quarters, Jing Yuan reclined beneath a massive banyan tree, his eyes half-closed. His usual air of serenity was intact, though there was a weight behind it—a silent shadow that trailed his every thought.

And then, you entered.

You were unlike the other members of the Xianzhou Alliance, your presence an anomaly among mortals. The vibrant, otherworldly aura you carried marked you as an emanator of Abundance, a rare being who bore the blessing—and curse—of the Aeon of healing and vitality. You thrived amidst life's abundance, nurturing growth and vitality wherever you went. Yet, you knew too well the cost of such power: the inability to partake in death's finality.

“Still dozing, General?” you teased gently, your voice a soothing lilt that carried the warmth of summer.

Jing Yuan’s lips curled into a faint smile as he opened one eye to regard you. “Merely conserving energy. A general must be prepared, even in peace.”

“Peace,” you echoed, stepping closer. “It’s a fragile thing, isn’t it? You guard it so well, yet it feels as though it might slip through your fingers at any moment.”

Jing Yuan sat up, his eyes meeting yours. In that moment, the serenity you had always admired faltered, giving way to a rare vulnerability.

“You speak as if you know it personally,” he said softly.

You hesitated, the truth lingering on the edge of your tongue. But what good would it do to confess? Your existence was an affront to the natural order Jing Yuan upheld. As an emanator of Abundance, you could not age, could not die, and you carried the taint of immortality—an unwelcome reminder of the very thing the Xianzhou people feared.

“I know enough,” you replied, your smile a mask to hide your turmoil.

Yet Jing Yuan saw through it. He always did. “There’s a weight you carry,” he murmured, reaching out. His fingers brushed against yours, his touch grounding and warm. “You don’t have to bear it alone.”

Your heart ached at his words, for they held a promise you could never accept.

The months passed in fleeting moments of stolen peace. Jing Yuan’s affection for you grew, as did your guilt. He was a mortal man, tethered to the relentless march of time, while you remained untouched by its hand. His hair would gray, his body would weaken, and you would stay the same, cursed to watch the inevitable.

And yet, you stayed by his side, selfishly savoring the moments you could share.

One day, you found yourself in the Arbiter-General’s chambers. A report lay on the desk—a breach in the Luofu’s defenses by the Denizens of Abundance. The very path you were bound to.

“They’ll come for you,” Jing Yuan said, his tone matter-of-fact, but his eyes betrayed his fear.

“Let them,” you replied, your voice steady. “I won’t let them harm the Luofu. Or you.”

His hand came to rest on your cheek, his thumb tracing a gentle line beneath your eye. “You always speak as if you’re the shield, but you forget you’re also a person, someone deserving of protection.”

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes. “And you forget that I’m not like you. I’ve lived for centuries, Jing Yuan. I’ll live for centuries more. This is my burden.”

“You are more than a burden,” he said firmly. “You are—”

“Enough,” you interrupted, pulling away. “Please. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

The battle came swiftly, a tide of chaos that engulfed the Luofu. You stood at the forefront, your powers of restoration weaving through the battlefield like a thread of life. Soldiers rallied behind you, their wounds closing as you poured your essence into them.

Jing Yuan fought alongside you, a beacon of strength and strategy. Yet, amidst the chaos, your greatest fear came to pass.

A blow meant for him. A shield you raised too late.

He fell, eyes widening as blood seeped through his armor. Your heart stopped, the world narrowing to the sight of him crumpling to the ground.

You were at his side in an instant, your hands glowing as you tried to heal him. The wound closed, but his breathing was shallow, his strength slipping away.

“Why—” he rasped, his voice weak. “Why do you cry?”

Because I love you, you wanted to say. Because I cannot save you, no matter how much power I wield.

“It’s nothing,” you lied, tears streaming down your face.

His hand found yours, his grip faint but resolute. “You’ve always been a terrible liar.”

And then, his eyes closed.

You screamed, your power surging uncontrollably. Around you, life burst forth—grass, flowers, vines—all thriving in your grief. Yet Jing Yuan remained still, untouched by the abundance you commanded.

For the first time, you cursed your blessing. You cursed the Aeon who had made you this way.

In the end, you were left alone, the weight of immortality heavier than ever. The "Dozing General" was gone, and you, an emanator of Abundance, were left to mourn in a garden of your own making, forever haunted by the love you could not save.

[scary-grace]

PARIAH (part 3) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Shigaraki Tomura was buried three days ago, struck down at last by the affliction that’s haunted him all his life. Now, with muffled screams emanating from the graveyard and the same affliction striking down villagers left and right, the priest has ordered Shigaraki raised from the grave and put to death properly this time. It falls to Spinner, wracked with guilt over his best friend’s fate, to seek help from a monstrosity equal to the one that haunts Shigaraki — the witch who dwells in the darkest part of the forest. In other words, you.

Nosferatu AU, multi-POV, 10k+ words. Vampires, wolves, and witches, oh my! All the typical warnings one might expect for a fic about vampires. If you like Gran Torino this is not the fic for you.

part i part ii

part iii

You recoil from him with all the strength you possess, panic surging through you. You’re able to master it for only a split second – long enough to search out his vital signs, to confirm that his unconsciousness is a temporary state rather than a harbinger of his death – before your fear drives you back across the room away from him, so far that your back is pressed against the opposite wall. Even then, you can barely breathe. The taste of human blood still clings to your tongue.

It’s like nothing you’ve ever tasted before, potent and intoxicating, the way alcohol must feel to humans whose metabolisms can’t grasp that it’s poison. But the taste of the human’s blood isn’t why you’ve fled from him, or at least it doesn’t feel like the reason. When you bowed your head to his neck and struggled to draw away, you weren’t battling a desire to sink your teeth into the marks the Old One left behind. It wasn’t his blood that you wanted.

Or was it? The hunger is insidious, you were always told. It hides itself in whatever form it must in order to lure you into satiating it. When some new sensation, some new emotion takes hold, you must always assume it’s vampiric, not human. You need no other reason to stay as far from this human as possible.

But you can’t do that. You can’t leave him sprawled out on the table; he needs to rest, and eat and drink when he wakes up, and that means you need to have something to feed him. You have to find a place to put him that’s more comfortable, and you can only think of your own bed, often unused and certainly going unused tonight, regardless of where you put the human. The human – Shigaraki. You don’t know his given name, but you can still taste his blood.

That knowledge above all else is what spurs you to action. You seize the bowl of water you were soaking the bandages in and raise it to your lips.

If the Old One drank this, even in its diluted form, it would burn him alive from the inside out. You hold it in your mouth, eyes watering from the pain, until you can take it no longer. When you stumble to the front door, open it, and spit out into the dirt, most of your taste buds fall away with it, salt from the inland sea functioning the same as acid would. You won’t be able to taste anything for a while. But you can’t taste Shigaraki’s blood, and that’s the important thing. You’ll never be pure again, but you are clean, and clear enough of mind to assess the situation properly.

The longer you think about it, the worse it gets. If all you had done was clash with the priest over an innocent man’s life, that would be permissible, acceptable, necessary. But the man in question is the Old One’s chosen host, and you didn’t just rescue him from the priest – you brought him to your home and deliberately stripped the Old One’s essence from his body. Even if you were nothing but a witch dwelling at the edge of the world, it would have been desperately unwise to do.

But you aren’t a witch dwelling at the edge of the woods. You’re one of three surviving members of the order Academia, dedicated to the defeat of vampires and the preservation of humanity, and you’re supposed to be in hiding. The other two are Professors, and it’s their job to kill vampires. Your job is to stay hidden, to preserve Academia’s vast stores of knowledge within both the archive and your memory, and if necessary, to rebuild the order from the ground up if all the Professors are killed. At this moment, however, the Professors are safer than they’ve ever been. All the Old One’s thought is bent on claiming his newest host, and you’ve stolen him. The Old One is after you.

You haven’t just endangered yourself. You’ve endangered the order, after being charged with protecting it when you barely understood what that meant, and worse still, you can’t see how you could have averted this outcome. Any course of action that included rescuing Shigaraki from the villagers inevitably ends here. The only course that wouldn’t have was to let him die.

When you think of the order members you’ve known over your time as the lighthouse keeper, it’s easy to imagine what they’d have done. To a fault, they’d have left Shigaraki’s fate to Father Torino. But the order is meant to protect humanity, and Shigaraki is still human. More human than you are. More human by half. If you deserve to live, so does he. You straighten up, breathe deep, and force yourself again to assess the situation. You may not be a hunter, but you are an archive. You know all you need to know in order to survive this night. The rest can be dealt with in the morning.

You’re certain of it, certain that no matter how far out of your depth you feel, you have the knowledge to prevail – but when you step back inside and see Shigaraki still sprawled on the table, multiple pieces of your resolve falter at once. The idea of going near him again frightens you. You know to be afraid of your hunger, no matter its origins. But you aren’t a child, and even when you were, you never stooped to drinking human blood. You delay as long as possible, rearranging your bed and fluffing the pillows, before turning back to the table.

Shigaraki’s been insensate, but absent the Old One’s influence clogging his veins, he must be a light sleeper. No sooner has your hand brushed his shoulder than he jerks awake, flinching away, one hand held out to forestall you. There’s some mix of disgust and resignation on his face. You think of how many times he must have been woken from sleep by the Old One, how little his refusal would have mattered, and take a careful step back.

The fight drains out of him in a rush. He slumps back against the table, averting his eyes from yours. “I thought you were him.”

You shake your head. “I did not mean to unsettle you, just to move you somewhere more comfortable.”

“To move me. You intend to carry me?”

“That was the plan,” you admit. Your face inexplicably heats up, making you wish for your veil. “It’s not far. You can walk if you’d like.”

Shigaraki shakes his head. “Carry me if you wish.”

If he’d like, if you wish. You do wish. The degree to which you wish strikes you as somewhat unseemly, some obscure outgrowth of the hunger that stalks the edges of your consciousness. You gather Shigaraki into your arms, and unlike the last time you tried this, he cooperates fully, his arms winding about your neck and his body curled in against your chest. Shigaraki has every reason to fear vampires, but he trusted you to save him, even knowing that it would leave him vulnerable. He has every reason to flinch from a vampire’s touch, but he holds onto you.

You label every unfamiliar feeling as vampiric in origin, simply because it’s the safest thing to do, but the feeling that chases at the heels of your pity and sorrow for him would be unmistakable even if you didn’t. When you think of Shigaraki in the Old One’s clutches, the rage that sweeps through you comes from a single source, a thought you’ve never had about anything, let alone a human. Something visceral, unassailable by virtue or reason: He’s mine.

That is not a thought you should be having. You set Shigaraki down on your bed perhaps a little too brusquely, then try to make up for it by drawing the blankets carefully over him. Even that gesture is tainted by possessiveness, heavy with hunger. You draw back to a safe distance at speed.

Shigaraki watches you go. “If you meant to drink my blood, you would have done it already,” he says. “I’m not frightened of you.”

He should be. Right now you are. “I must take my leave of you. There is much to do to prepare for nightfall.”

That brings a flash of fear to Shigaraki’s pale face. “It doesn’t matter what you do,” he says. “You cannot keep him out.”

“This place was built to withstand him,” you say. You leave out that it was built to withstand him at the height of his powers, and that it was intended to be guarded by a dozen Professors every night. With the Old One’s decaying body and only you to stand watch, it’s a much more even fight. “I make the same preparations every night. And tonight we have an advantage.”

“What advantage?”

“As they sleep in daylight, vampires are truly dead to the world,” you say. “The Old One won’t know you’ve shaken off his control until he wakes up.”

It’s an advantage that will last only for the night, but that should give you time to plan something better. It occurs to you on your way out the door that Shigaraki will need to eat, and the bone broth you’ve been simmering since this morning will be ready by the time you return. You gather the supplies you take whenever you walk the perimeter and set off. Seventy-three minutes until nightfall. Courtesy of your vampiric nature, you always know how much daylight remains.

Your defenses are solid, as they should be. You check them every night, as you were taught to do by the last lighthouse keeper before he and the archive he protected were both destroyed. The vampire who did that wasn’t the Old One, and he was underestimated as a result — and after he destroyed the archive, he escaped. Mirai taught you much in life, but his death taught you an even more valuable lesson: When it comes to vampires, you must never assume you hold the upper hand. When it comes to vampires, you are always about to die.

So you guard against both, the unnamed vampire who destroyed the old archive and thrust you into this role before your time and the Old One your order has hunted through generations. The wolf-dogs trail at your heels as you scatter concentric rings of salt, as you string nets of silver lace between the trees, attaching a few silver bells to each one. If a vampire should somehow manage to encounter the nets without howling in agony, the ringing of the bells will warn you, too.

You plant an extra row of stakes around the perimeter of your fence, ensuring they’ll stick out at an angle. Sometimes it seems you spend all day making stakes, creating spool after spool of lace, but this is why. You could fortify your home ten times over and still have supplies to spare.

The wolf-dogs follow you through the gate, and you shut it behind them, draping it in heavy silver chains that you polish carefully each morning. You still have a few moments before nightfall, and it’s going to be a very cold night. You bring in more firewood than usual, confident that a human who’s been habitually drained of blood will feel the cold worse than you do, then step back inside, ushering the newest additions to the pack of wolf-dogs in after you.

You can’t rescue all the pups from Father Torino’s edict that they be drowned, but you save as many as you can, and the litter of five pups that was born out of season was the largest single rescue you’ve attempted to date. Their eyes were barely open when you recovered them, but now they’re approaching four months old, and they’re rambunctious to the extreme. You’d keep them outside if you could, but their coats are too downy yet to keep out the wind and rain, and you’d rather deal with them inside each night than let them freeze. Besides, they’re an excellent distraction from your other guest.

Or a distraction for him. While you’ve been wiping the last pup’s paws clean, the others have discovered Shigaraki, and before you can stop him, he’s patted the bed and invited all five up to join him. Naturally, they oblige, and you can do nothing but stare in exasperation.

Shigaraki catches you looking. “What? It was their idea.”

“I saw you. Don’t lie.” You can’t begrudge him, though; although the wolf-dog pups are crawling all over him, for the first time since you met him, he looks something approaching happy. “They’ll never leave you be. Not now that they know you’re a soft touch.”

Shigaraki laughs quietly at that. His voice is all but ruined from screaming, but he laughs, and you turn away in a hurry. If you get the pups their supper, they’ll abandon him, and the sight of him cuddling with them won’t produce any more awful feelings inside you. Shigaraki speaks again as you’re filling the pups’ trough. “As if you aren’t a soft touch of your own. For the rigidity of the priest’s convictions and the presence of so many wolves in the mountains, surprisingly few wolf-dogs are drowned in the village.”

“What are you implying?”

“That the village brats know to leave their half-breed pups unattended,” Shigaraki says. “It seems they have a great deal of faith in you.”

You had wondered why the rescues were so much easier of late. “That odd one most of all,” Shigaraki continues. “He must, to turn to you for help in the face of a vampire.”

You aren’t surprised at all that it was Midoriya Izuku who sought you out. After all, it’s in his blood. “Then again,” Shigaraki says, and you look up in time to see the pups abandon him and charge for their meal, “you are not unlike a vampire yourself.”

He doesn’t ask a question, but you hear one, and you choose to answer, where you would have obfuscated before. “Half-vampire would be the most accurate term. Conceived by human parents, born to a mother who was either bitten or turned.”

“I read of your kind. In Sensei’s library, before he locked it away.” Shigaraki’s eyes are intent on yours. “I would have guessed for myself if my mental faculties were not so thoroughly decayed.”

“You spent quite some time buried alive. Anyone’s faculties would be corroded,” you say. “What did the Old One’s books say about my kind?”

“They concurred with the priest. You are unclean,” Shigaraki says, and you snort. “Those who create a half-vampire are obligated to destroy it, or else their own existences are forfeit. Vampires keep precious few laws, but regarding that, they are inflexible.”

“Oh,” you say. “So that’s where the Elders went.”

“What?”

“The Old One used to be one of a cadre of master vampires, but some sixty years ago, all but the Old One vanished.” You called yourself the Old One’s fatal mistake, but it seems you’ve been fatal for others, not for him. “Do you think he would take a death sentence lying down?”

Shigaraki laughs hollowly. “He defeated his own kind, equals in power. You have no chance against him.”

“Then it’s good that I don’t intend to fight him,” you say. “Our task is simply to survive the night.”

Night will fall within seconds. You leave your conversation with Shigaraki behind and shut the windows, lining each windowsill with rough crystals of salt. With the loss of the sun, you feel your newfound impurity more acutely, and it did not need the assistance. Your instinct is to descend into the archive and hide until morning, but you must be here to look after your guest. Whose blood you’ve tasted. Whose name you still don’t know. At this point it would be awkward to ask.

You bring him a cup of water and some bone broth, then retreat with your own meal to the bench nearest the window. Shigaraki’s voice follows you. “Do you usually keep such distance from humans?”

It’s not because he’s human. It’s because he’s himself, and you’re drawn to him in a way you don’t understand. You don’t think you’d take his blood, no matter how close to him you got, but you have no idea what you would do instead. The thought crosses your mind that your human side might know the answer, but your human side is quiet. It always has been, because it was never your human side that the Academia wanted you for.

“I am comfortable with humans at any distance,” you say. “This is for your comfort more than mine.”

“I told you already. I’m not frightened of you,” Shigaraki says. “I know evil. It does not look like you.”

Not on the outside, no — but there’s something monstrous within you, something you bury deep. “Do you think evil comes from within, or from beyond?”

“Does it matter?” Shigaraki is drinking more than eating, but at least he’s consuming some of both. “The result is the same, either way.”

It’s quiet for a moment. “Within, I think. Sensei chose to become what he is. You didn’t.”

“I choose which side of my nature to obey,” you say. You think it’s important to tell Shigaraki, to warn him that you are not what you appear to be. “I never tasted human blood until yours.”

“I never asked a vampire to touch me before you,” Shigaraki says, and your face heats up. “Did you desire my blood?”

You shake your head, and to your surprise, Shigaraki presses the point. “Why not?”

“I don’t drink blood.”

“I asked if you desired it,” Shigaraki says. “There is a difference. Answer me.”

Some part of you bridles at being ordered around in your own home — the human part of you, you think. Your vampiric nature wishes to offer more information than necessary, and in your answer, you fail to tamp it down. “There are things I desire more.”

Shigaraki blinks. For your part, you avoid eye contact, staring down into your bowl of broth. It’s a poor meal. You should have made bread to go with it, but you were busy. Busy making mistake after mistake, endangering what scraps of the Academia still remain, opening yourself up to the baser instincts you’ve suppressed all your life. Your predecessors would be ashamed of you, your most recent predecessor most of all. Mirai would not have heeded Spinner’s call. He would have let Shigaraki die, and quite possibly saved the world in the bargain.

“I’m cold,” Shigaraki says into the silence. You set your empty bowl aside and return to build up the fire. The pups are mostly asleep, but at least one is still interested in Shigaraki, and when you take his own empty bowl away, you replace it with the pup he was holding before. “This is your bed. Where do you intend to sleep?”

“This night, I don’t,” you say. “I rarely sleep.”

“Why not?”

“Vampires rest during daylight, humans at night. There’s no time of day that feels natural to sleep.” When you were young, you slept days. Once the Academia found you, you slept not at all. “If you were concerned about putting me out, don’t be. You’re a guest, and you must rest if you want to be well for your friends’ visit tomorrow.”

Shigaraki studies you. The pup is already fast asleep and snoring in his arms. “What happens then?” he asks. You give him a strange look. “If I leave, Sensei will follow me, and all your work will be undone.”

“I will give you and your friends what you need to mount an effective defense,” you say. “I don’t plan to throw you out on your ear.”

You don’t want to throw him out. You want to keep him here. “Do you think we can find a more secure place to stay?” Shigaraki asks. “By tomorrow night?”

No. If you send Shigaraki away, he and his friends will die. “I must protect the archive,” you say. “If the Old One attacks at his full strength, all will be lost.”

“If he reclaims me, all will be lost.” An involuntary shudder travels through Shigaraki, and a corresponding chill drips down your spine. “It is in your interest to slay him, yes? When will you have a chance like this again?”

“You know little of slaying vampires,” you say sharply. “Say what you mean.”

Shigaraki holds your gaze for a moment, then looks away. “I feel safe here,” he says, and your innards twist so painfully that it takes a small miracle to avoid doubling over. “My friends and I will be safer with you.”

The human side of you answers him without hesitating. “Then stay.”

You go about your nightly work, struggling to maintain some veneer of reality over your increasingly tainted thoughts. Shigaraki is drawn to the safety you provide, not to you specifically. He would respond the same to any lighthouse keeper, if any of them were fool enough to take him in. You’re nothing special, except that you’re here. You could be anyone. There’s no reason for Shigaraki to feel the same magnetic pull towards you as you do to him.

He must be exhausted. You keep waiting for him to fall asleep, but every time you glance up from your work, you find him watching you, eyes half-lidded, expression relaxed. It makes you self-conscious. “What?”

“Sensei’s fatal mistake,” he says. “What did you mean?”

“It refers to an old text, written when vampires first arose to plague humanity,” you say. “The exact phrasing –”

It takes you a moment. “In their lust for death they sow the seeds of their own undoing.” That was it. You remember wishing for something more definitive. “Coupled with the avoidance of creating half-vampires, it was determined that half-vampires were the key to defeating the Old Ones.”

You remember Nana Shimura holding your face in her hands, smiling down at you brighter than the sun. You will be his downfall, she said. You will be our light. “It’s only a legend.”

“If it were only a legend, creating a half-vampire would not be punishable by death,” Shigaraki says. All the pups are napping with him now. They’re hard to look at together. You don’t like what seeing them makes you feel. “Who taught you this?”

“I had many teachers,” you say. “Professor Shimura was the first.”

Shigaraki’s eyes widen. “Shimura?”

Before you can say anything, before he can elaborate, a howl rises up from somewhere in the woods. It’s distant. You can tell by the way it echoes that the wolf is at the edge of the woods, but you know it won’t stay there. Wolves don’t set foot in these woods, warned back by the presence of the wolf-dogs and the scent of the direwolves. If one is this close, it’s being compelled to approach — and if it’s the Old One’s doing, it won’t be alone.

There’s a second howl, and a third. You hear a sharp intake of breath and glance away from the shuttered window towards Shigaraki, who’s gone pale. “Your defenses won’t work on them,” he says. “They’ll tell him how to find me.”

They will, if even one makes it within view of your home, and you won’t leave it to the wolf-dogs to face a threat you’re responsible for bringing down upon them. You decide on a course of action instantly, and scoop Shigaraki up from the bed, blankets, wolf-dogs and all. He puts up a desultory protest, but he’s shaking in your grip. You press the trick stone in the floor, impatience and frustration humming inside you, and you and Shigaraki are halfway down the hidden stairs before the doorway’s even opened completely.

It’s cold down here. So cold. You don’t want to leave Shigaraki here, but you brought the pups, too, and they’ll keep him warm. Your eyes adjust to the darkness quickly and easily, so easily that you almost forget that Shigaraki will need light to see. As you light the lanterns, the chamber below your cottage comes into view, and Shigaraki stares. “What is this place?”

“The archive,” you say. In the old archive, there were many comfortable places to rest and read, but in this one, hastily constructed in the aftermath of old archive’s destruction, has only uncomfortable stools and cold stone. “Once I leave and seal it, it won’t open until morning or my return. You’ll be safe here.”

“Where are you going?”

“To kill the wolves.”

Shigaraki’s eyes widen. “You can’t,” he says, as you wrap the blankets more securely around him. “You’re only —”

“Human?” You finish the sentence for him. “Only half. Stay here and rest. I’ll be back.”

“Wait,” Shigaraki says, and you pause in the act of pulling away. He seizes your hand anyway. His fingers are cold. “Come back. Say you will.”

“I’ll come back,” you promise. On an impulse you regret the moment you follow it, you raise his hand to your mouth and press your lips against his frozen fingers.

You might regret the impulse, but it soothes the need, the hunger, that’s been tormenting you since you closed Shigaraki’s wounds. Shigaraki startles, but doesn’t retrieve his hand. When you pull away at last, he’s reluctant to let go.

You seal the archive behind you, then seal the cottage doors the same way. Re-entering will be painful for you, with so much salt and garlic and rose in your path, but it matters not so long as it protects Shigaraki. What happens to you matters little, so long as you protect him. You take off your shoes to lighten your step, arm yourself with a silver knife and a quiver of stakes, and set off through the woods at a speed only the direwolves could match.

Your human side is incomprehensible to you, but your vampiric side is all too familiar, and as you run, you turn it loose for the first time in decades. You allow your senses of smell and hearing to sharpen, allow your eyes to adjust to the night, search out the spark of violence that always dwells within you and work to fan the flames. The possessiveness, too, works in your favor. These are your woods. The wolf-dogs following in your wake are yours to protect, and the human is yours, too. Whatever seeks to harm them will find you waiting, and even as your senses identify half a dozen wolves prowling through the woods, your resolve doesn’t weaken. Half a dozen. If the Old One wanted to see his host reclaimed and his mistake unmade, he should have sent an army.

The first wolf appears before you, hackles raised but facing the other way. You leave the knife sheathed, the stakes undisturbed in their quiver, and you attack with bared teeth and empty hands.

<- part ii

tagging: @stardustdreamersisi @shigarakislaughter @deadhands69 @cryptidfuckerofficial @f3r4lfr0gg3r @minniessskii @lvtuss @issaortiz @evilcookie5 @lacrimae-lotos @xeveryxstarfallx @aslutforfictionalmen

let me know if you'd like to be removed from the taglist! this one is all-purpose, but I can make one for specific fics if need be

[epiaphany]

not sure if anyone has pointed this out already and it's actually common knowledge by now, or if it's even done intentionally by the writers but i was rewatching 8x06 and i realized something while watching josh's speech to buck.

josh talks about the pre-glee world. how it was scarier, more confusing, and less accepting. and how buck was lucky to have his awakening in a post-glee world, unlike himself and tommy. and he talks about how in the pre-glee world, closeted queer people did things they're not proud of today in order to protect themselves.

and yeah glee is a tv show and it was obviously meant as a haha-we're-mentioning-another-ryan-murphy-show thing.

but it's also a noun. and do you want to know another word for it? that they repeatedly used in the same episode? that *someone* canonically thinks they're not worthy of and therefore hides behind beards? yeah you guessed right. joy.

so poor eddie has been stuck in a pre-gleejoy world of his own for a long time (his whole life?). but now he's finally allowing himself to feel joy, he's entering the post-glee world, and we're getting him OUT

[storydays]

Hazbin Hotel: Episode 1 p1

Overture

@avatar_lover

(3rd POV)

"Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates known as Heaven. It was ruled by beings of pure light. Angels that worshiped good and shielded all from evil. Lucifer was one of these angels. He was a dreamer with fantastical ideas for all of creation. But he was seen as a troublemaker by the elders of Heaven. 

For they felt his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world. So he watched as  the angels began to expand the universe in their ways. From the dust of Earth, they created Adam and Lilith. Equals as the first of mankind, but despite this, Adam demanded control and Lilith refused. 

Drawn in by her fierce independence, Lucifer found her and the two rebellious dreamers fell deeply in love. Together, they wished to share the magic of free will with humanity, offering the fruit of knowledge to Adam’s new bride, Eve, who gladly accepted.

But this gift came with a curse.

For with this single gift, evil finally found its way to Earth. With it, a new realm of darkness and sin, and the order Heaven worked hard to maintain was shattered. As punishment for their reckless act, Heaven cast Lucifer and his love into the dark pit he created, never allowing him to see the good that came from Humanity, only the cruel and the wicked. 

Ashamed, Lucifer lost his will to dream. 

But Lilith thrived, empowering a demon-kind with her voice and her songs. And as the numbers of Hell grew, so did its power. Threatened by this, Heaven made a truly heartless decision, that every year, they would send down an army: an extermination to ensure Hell and its sinners could never rise against them. 

But Lilth’s hope remained. And her dream was passed down to their precious children, the Prince and Princess of Hell.”

A pale hand closed the story book, as a young woman held a key close to her, looking downcast. “Don’t worry Mom, I’ll make you proud.” She whispered, gazing out the window, listening to the screams outside. 

“Charlie?” a voice called startling the young woman. “Augh!” she yelped, as her key turned into a cat, who ran away to hide. Charlie winced before turning to the other woman, “Vaggie! Did you hear all that?” she asked. 

“Uh, yeah. I was standing right there.” smiled the woman, pointing at the door. “Sorry, I get pretty worked up after an extermination happens. The story helps.” Charlie frowned, staring at the book. “I know, don’t worry. I enjoy your theatrics. Are you okay?” Vaggie asked, sitting next to the blonde demoness. “I’m fine, just–ya know thinking about family stuff.” “DId you hear your from your mom yet?” Charlie shook her head sadly. 

“Oof, how long has it been now?” 

“Not that long…only…..seven….years. Off doing something important, I’m sure.” Together the women stood up, to look outside the window. “But this kingdom was something she really cared about; something I care about.” Charlie hugged herself, smiling wistfully. 

“Well, at least you’re not alone.” Vaggie soothed, holding Charlie’s hands.”I just hope that what I’m trying to do here will work.” Charlie admitted. “It will. I have faith in you.” the white haired woman smiled, cupping Charlie’s cheek. 

“All right, come on. Alastor says he’s got something he wants to show us.” Vaggie walked out of the room, Charlie going to follow her, before hearing the church bell ring outside. She turned to look out at the clock as it rang, signaling the end of the extermination. Charlie sighed before heading downstairs. 

*Downstairs*

“Well, hello there, you wayward sinner!” A cheery voice, on the television, called out to a demon currently stabbing another on the street, making the two look around confusedly. “Do you like blood, violence and depravity of a sexual nature? Of course you do, that’s why you’re in Hell! But what would you say if there was a place that had none of that?” questioned the voice as more sinners popped up, varying emotions from annoyance to confusion. The camera then zoomed to reveal the hotel.

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! A misguided path to redemption!” the camera then pushed into Charlie’s personal space as she was mid conversation, before she noticed the camera and she smiled and waved nervously. A spider demon appeared behind her, using all four of his hands to give the demoness bunny ears behind her head and on the side. “Founded 5 days ago by Lucifer’s delusional daughter, Charlotte Morningstar! Come place your faith in her inexperienced hands as she tries to work through her daddy issues by fixing you!” 

The television showed a picture of Lucifer facing away from Charile as she hugged herself, tears in her eyes. Then it showed Charlie attempting to convince sinners to join. 

“Here we offer fun things! Such as somewhat functional staff.” The camera showed a grumpy cat demon who was clearly drunk as he face planted into the bar. A little cyclops woman scurried around him, chasing a bug with a giant needle in her arm, with a maniacal grin on her face, as she attempted to stab the bug.

“24 hour pest control! Custom rooms, and just look at this tacky parlor!” The camera panned out to show a piece of wood falling near the spider demon from earlier who was lounging on a couch, clearly bored as he examined his finger nails.  “Enjoy riveting conversation with our singular resident.”

The spider sent the camera a middle finger, making an effect of the word Wow appear on screen, changing to show a crudely drawing of the hotel with different notes and smiley faces with a large toothy grin. “Wow! All this and more at the Hazbin Hotel. Your last desperate attempt at salvation starts here!” On the screen, appeared: “Call now or don’t! I don’t care! We still don’t have a working phone!” 

The TV shut off as the audience in the room sat around, emotions varying from anger, shock, and disbelief. “So, what’d ya think?”asked a grinning deer demon, dressed head to toe in red and black. 

“I’m sorry, what the FUCK was that?” scowled Vaggie, arms crossed. “Uh, yeah, one note. Alastor…” Charlie started, ignoring how the demon’s smile tightened. “I mean, first off, thank you so much for making this, seriously, amazing, but um..” Charlie played with her fingers as she tried to explain her thoughts, “The tone was maybe a bit..off?” Alastor tilted his head as she continued. 

“We want people to WANT to come here. This makes it look–um..” “Bad. The word you’re looking for is bad.” Vaggie snarled, crossing her arms. 

“Funny, I was going for hilarious!” Alastor laughed. “It didn’t explain anything about how we’re trying to save demons, which is the whole fucking point!” 

“Vaggie is right, Alastor. The commercial was to let sinners know we are trying to save them.” called a smooth voice from another armchair. The male was sitting on the chair, his legs over the arm of the chair, and the cat from earlier purring in his arms, as he stroked her back. This was the Prince of Hell, Heir to the Throne, and Charlie’s big brother, (Y/N).

“Well, my dear (Y/N), I haven’t been active in Hell for some time, and everyone remembers me from my radio show. The proper way to express oneself!” Alastor turned to the TV with a clear disdain written over his ever grinning face.

“But you insisted on this noisy picture box advertisement. So I had a little fun with it.” “Oh fun, you had a little fun?” Vaggie snapped, before standing. “Well, this is not what we want to represent us. When you showed up here, a week ago, you told us you would help run this hotel. Instead, you’re mocking us. Nobody’s going to want to come to a place that a powerful Overlord like you thinks is a waste of time.” Vaggie hissed before the 4 noticed a red hand waving in the air. 

“What?” snapped Vaggie as (Y/N) started to walk towards the bar. 

“If’n you’re filimin’ a commercial, can I suggest you take advantage of the talented celebrity you have right here?” The spider demon from earlier, sat up lazily, grabbing the bottle of alcohol with him, and winked at the people, gesturing to himself. 

“Angel, you’re a porn star.” Vaggie deadpanned.

“A famous porn star.” Corrected Angel, as (Y/N) came back and sat next to the spider, with a strawberry Daiquiri in his hand. 

“I’ll have the horniest sinners knockin’ down these walls to get in.” The white furred spider grinned smugly, before swinging his legs over (Y/N)’s lap, clearly comfortable. “We are not shooting a porn as a commerical.” Vaggie said firmly. 

“Why not? Sex sells, don’t it?” Angel winked. “I swear, if you film me going at it with Sexy Princey or Mr FancyTalk Creep Voice here, you’d be rollin’ in participants to stay at this tacky hotel.”. Alastor laughed loudly before deadpanning. “Haha! Never going to happen.”

The bespectacled prince cleared his throat nervously, cheeks a slight red as he tried to compose himself. “A-Angel, we appreciate you wanting to use your ‘special skills’ to, um, attract folks to the hotel. But I–WE, meant to say WE don’t want to exploit you in that way.” 

(Y/N) smiled at the spider demon who grinned, leaning into the prince’s space, close to his ear, and purred, “But what if I want you to exploit me……..Daddy?” “HAHA! OKAY!”

(Y/N) yelped, before using his wings to quickly fly up and over by the bar, startling Angel who then smirked knowingly at the demon. 

Turning towards the girls, Angel continued to talk, “This body was made to be exploited, baby. I’ve got the arms, I got the stamina, I got the legs, I got the lung capacity. Oh, oh! I have the legs, the gag reflex, the holes, the chest fluff everyone thinks are tits..”  Charlie laughed uncomfortably as Angel continued talking.

(Y/N)’s phone started ringing, making the prince roll his eyes and walk away, answering his phone. “I’ll be right back.” 

He turned the corner, and grinned deviously as he answered the phone, “What up, bitch!”

*Back with the others*

“Hey, I have a question. If freaky face over there is so powerful, then why can’t he just make people stay here?” Angel asked suddenly, pointing at Alastor.

“Oh trust me, I can.” Alastor grinned darkly, briefly showing his horns.

“Why do you think I’m here?” A gruff voice called from the bar, making everyone turn to the bar, towards the grumpy cat from earlier. 

“You think I’d be cleaning bottles and listen to you fucks’ bitch and moan, if he wasn’t forcing me.” The bartender hissed as the little cyclops appeared next to him, grinning. 

“I like being forced.” She giggled. 

“Keep that to yourself, Niff.” grimaced the cat demon. 

“What, you don’t love being here with me, Whiskers?” Angel mocked, making a kissy face. 

“Call me whiskers again, and I’ll jam that bottle down your throat.” the cat threatened.

“Kinky! C’mon, keep talking dirty.” grinned Angel, narrowing his eyes at the cat.

“Angel, let Husk do his job. And no, we can’t force people to stay here; they need to choose to.” Vaggie stated. 

“I’m choosing to be here, and I think it’s all stupid. We’re in Hell, toots.” Angel shrugged, “That’s kind of the end of the line, ain’t it?”

“Well, maybe it doesn’t have to be.” Charlie smiled. “Just because no one’s ever made it out, doesn’t mean it’s not possible.”

Angel placed a hand on Charlie’s shoulder as he leaned down to her height. “Hey, whatever means I can keep crashing here rent free.” The women shot him a deadpanned look, and he scowled. “Crack is expensive.”

(Y/N) quickly came and grabbed Charlie by the arm, grinning excitedly. “Char, come with me!” Charlie yelped as her brother pulled her around the corner. 

“Woah, (Y/N), what’s going on?”

“So the leader of the Angel Army wants to meet…and I managed to convince Dad to let me send you to talk to them instead.”

Charlie tilted her head. “Why me? You usually take care of stuff like that.”

“Because, Char, you are the princess of Hell,and I think you’re old enough to start partaking in stuff like this. And.. you can use this as an opportunity to try to convince Heaven to give your Hotel a chance. “ (Y/N) prompted. 

“Ooh! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Charlie hugged her brother before rushing to tell Vaggie. (Y/N) going to lean on the couch, as Vaggie questioned Charlie. “But the extermination just happened. What could they want this soon after?” 

Charlie started singing and twirled Vaggie who replied dizzily, “Okay but just don’t sing to them.”

“That bitch is half way down the street.” (Y/N) and Angel laughed, with the others looking out the door, watching the princess sing. 

“Is she–?” Vaggie asked, worriedly.

“Oh, she’s dancin’.” Angel tossed his head back, drinking the bottle in his hands, ignoring Vaggie’s groan.

[mychoombatheroomba]

I'd Be Home With You (Krauser x GN! Reader)

You fought each other and both lost. It's not the ending you would have chosen, but it's one you're at peace with.

Word count: 982

CW: major character death, angst

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Never let it be said that life didn’t have a sense of humor. A bad one, maybe. A taste for irony in the bitterest sense of the word, but a sense of humor, nonetheless. 

You wondered if Jack remembered saying those words to you, years and years ago. You’d cracked some stupid joke, and the Major had rolled his eyes. Smiled. Spoke those words with an affection that had given you pause. You remembered that moment because it was when you knew that loyalty wasn’t the full extent of what you felt for the man. There was something else. Something more. 

You remembered that moment now, because it seemed so impossibly far away. It was a time you would give anything to go back to. 

You’re gonna be the death of me.

He wasn’t smiling now. There had been fury in his eyes as you’d fought. Fury and hatred and desperation. A madness you couldn’t name or recognize. It all faded now, as the realization set in. As the cold metal sank home, into his chest, just like he’d taught. Just like that, a passing joke was turned into something heavier. Inescapable. As your knife finally stopped at the hilt, you thought of those words. The death of me. 

The price of that death settled heavily in your gut, flesh and bone that was twisted and mangled and sharp enough to punch clean through you. Enough to make blood bubble up in your throat and spill down your chin with a cough. 

Krauser’s eyes, even fading, widened at the sight. Then washed over him a look of understanding. Acceptance. 

Equal exchange. A life for a life. 

His for yours. Yours for his. 

“Thought I . . . taught you better . . .” he managed, still standing somehow, the both of you leaning on each other to stay up. It was a house of cards, you knew, because the stone and earth beneath you was calling. Beckoning the two of you to, after such a battle, after so much hurt, to rest. You hadn’t wanted to do this. You’d tried - really tried - to make him see reason. To call back the man you knew. In the end, though, he’d forced your hand. Your mission, your orders, all of it pointed towards this moment. 

You should have had the strength to survive it. Krauser was right, he’d trained you better. He’d given you the tools you needed to fight and to live. He’d given you strength, a shoulder to lean on, an ear to listen. Major. Friend. Confidant. Partner. Enemy. Jack Krauser had been so many things to you, and now, he would be one more. 

He would be the last person you ever saw, and you the final soul to see him. At that moment, you couldn’t imagine it ending any other way. Falling on each other’s blades. You were sure you’d seen that film or read that tragedy. 

Now, though, even with the taste of ruin in your mouth, you just laughed. Even if it was a dying thing. “Taught me . . . everything I needed,” you said, gritting your teeth through the pain. Staggering a little as your legs started to give. You wouldn’t have to live in a world where you killed the man you cared for most, now. That knowledge, that weight, would be picked clean by whatever carrion birds would circle you by morning. There was peace in that. 

Peace enough that, as the two of you sank to your knees together, your blades still locked in each other’s flesh, you smiled. “Had you on the ropes.” 

Krauser’s head lolled forward a bit, the warpaint on his face doing nothing to hide the curl of his scarred lips. His gaze was unsteady, but he still tried to look you in the eyes as he spoke. “Look where it got you.” There was no venom in his words. No malice. No anger. Just him, however weak. The man you knew, once, who’d saved you just as you’d saved him. So many missions, bruises and cuts and broken bones . . . 

“Glad it’s over,” you said with another cough, admitting what had been burrowing into you for years. Freeing what you’d kept to yourself. 

You supposed you could have mourned what might have been. Even as you looked into his eyes, though, even as you imagined being so close under better circumstances . . . 

No. This would do. 

Because no matter what could have been, no matter how things might have ended up, you felt a little lighter as Jack huffed one of his final breaths. “Glad it’s you.” 

You should have heard those words under different circumstances, but this was alright too. As the world started to blur, it was enough to know that, even with all the fury that had built between the two of you, even with all the wounds you’d dealt and been dealt, it didn’t matter. That whatever he felt, beneath it all, there was care. Whatever name it took didn’t matter as you felt yourself teetering. As you nodded - or maybe it was just the world around you dipping and dancing. Either way, you knew your forehead rested against his for a moment as death reached for the two of you.

“Feeling’s mutual . . . Major.” 

Your grip on the knife was growing weaker. 

His eyelids looked like they were being weighed down. 

“Knew . . . heh . . .” he shook his head, “knew you were gonna be the death of me.” 

You couldn’t quite manage a laugh this time as you both fell. Even so, as your vision ebbed, as you felt your blood seeping out of your body, you weren't afraid.

Jack went before you did, the blade in his chest cutting the thread of your story together. Good, bad . . . none of it mattered. Wherever he went, you knew you wouldn't be far behind.

That was an ending you could live with.

A/N: The seasonal depression and Hozier are responsible for this ("In A Week" specifically)

[kolyubov]

HIII!! (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠)/ I so love how you write Fyodor!!! Could I request Fyodor with a wise and optimistic s/o??? (it can be oneshot, headcannons, or drabbles :3)

To add on this, s/o is able to keep up with Fyodor's daily rants about philosophy or literature that includes deep meanings. S/o is sophisticated and quite esoteric with their world views, always drowning themselves in knowledge but never really being able to just fall into pessimism from the amount of awareness.

I just love imagining Fyodor bringing up how all sinners should be exterminated while s/o just completely turns his point around by giving some optimistic thought like, "All sinners are capable of redemption. Virtue reaches its limits once it approaches the complexity of man." (whatever that means) and then Fyodor's all baffled because why is his s/o like this??? And he doesnt even mean it negatively. Hes just shocked.

I feel that Fyodor would find it so refreshing to have an s/o like that. He may be a dedicated man who wouldn't change his plans just because his s/o talked him out of it, but he would still deeply respect his s/o and their views.

I APOLOGIZE IF THIS REQUEST WOULD BE TOO HARD(⁠ᗒ⁠ᗩ⁠ᗕ⁠) please take care and thank youu!! ^_^

Fyodor with an optimistic s/o!

✧ pairing. Fyodor Dostoyevsky x gn!reader

✧ word count. 996

✧ contents. fedya in love

✧ author's note. HIHIII NONNIEEE!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ this request is so interesting! and thank u for liking the way I write Fedya, I try my best <3

I really like this trope. Fyodor being merciless about people and the reader being the complete opposite by being optimistic.

honestly I had to search what esoteric means,,, and I'm still not sure if I understood it correctly (╥﹏╥)

I hope you like this and I'm sorry that this took so long :((

It's impossible to change Fyodor's view of the world, the society, or its people. As much as you try to convince him of the opposite —with solid proof— of his negative beliefs in certain topics, he refuses to accept them. Of course, he utterly respects your opinion; you're very smart and he knows you have knowledge about whatever topic in hand you two might be facing, as well as many others.

You think it's maybe because of the way he lived; the things one experiences are the main reason why someone acts or thinks the way they do, most of the time. So, that means that Fyodor probably had experience meeting lots of people who were “sinful” and “foolish” as he describes them in every single deep conversation that the two of you have.

Aside from the debates, Fyodor adores being able to discuss philosophical things with you— his lovely partner turning serious as he speaks, carefully listening to everything he has to say with those big eyes just makes him fall deeper in love. He's never going to directly tell you how much he enjoys it, you just have to get the hint.

Currently, Fyodor was sitting on his desk, his ushanka resting on the table among a few documents scattered on the surface— documents with government agents' faces on them and long paragraphs, a lot of words were underlined with fluorescent highlighter.

He was completely immersed in his work until he felt a pair of soft hands massaging his tensed shoulders; which was enough for him to lose focus.

“Fedya, do you not feel tired?” Your words make him sigh. Maybe he was overworking himself again, but that doesn't matter when all of this is in order to purge the world from sin.

He closes his eyes, enjoying the gentle rub on his back that is eventually making him feel drowsy. Regardless of how dangerous of a man Fyodor is, the touch of his beloved reduces him into a soft lovesick puppy— though he tries to hide it.

A smile spreads across his face when you turn his head to the side, hooking a finger under his chin, and pressing a tender kiss on his cold lips that leaves him yearning for more when you pull away.

“Leaving so fast?” He asks when he sees that you're walking away. You might as well take responsibility for distracting him from his work. “Wouldn’t you prefer to have a small chit-chat with me?”

And since you have nothing else better to do, you decide to walk back to his desk, sitting across from him.

“You see, sweetheart, I have been reading these papers for the next meeting… All of these are government members who belong to the plague that must be eliminated from the world for the sake of it. They’re sinners.”

He leans back against his chair, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “Sinners tend to be selfish, only chasing their own tail in circles like a lost dog, doing anything for their own primal desires and then being hypocrites about it.”

A small laugh leaves his lips as he tilts his head to the side; Clearly, he knows this is the time when you're going to refute.

“People are not sinners forever...” You murmur while looking down at the papers, trying to give it a quick read, but Fyodor could perfectly hear your sweet voice in that slightly pouty tone.

Even as his partner you know you can’t change the way he thinks or stop him from reaching his vile goals, and as much as you don’t like seeing other people's lives slip away by Fyodor’s hands, you can’t do anything about it.

“Oh, love. I feel like if you were in my place, looking at all these faces and the stories behind them, you'd think otherwise.”

“No, Fedya.”

Fyodor's eyes widen at the way you said it, a stern tone that immediately gets his attention.

“Humans are fragile things, in body and mind.” You look at him straight into his eyes, not realizing how serious you sound by now, “And their mind can be corrupted by different situations they face during their short life…”

The man in front of you raises an eyebrow, carefully listening.

“That's how they turn “sinners”, by suffering through their life, but I think that they can be saved… not in the way you think, not by being exterminated… ending their lives is not the solution.”

“Then what do you think the solution is?”

Your eyes follow Fyodor as he stands up slowly, taking slow steps before standing behind you, “I'm all ears, dear.” The way he says it sounds menacing as he places a kiss on your cheek.

“Sinners are capable of redemption… There are a lot of ways one can be ‘saved’, some people might choose God, and others might choose their family or friends, but what matters is the capacity one has to be able to get out from the dark pit of suffering to stop being selfish and sinful.”

You don't dare to look at Fyodor, afraid of what he might think, afraid he thinks your optimistic way of thinking is just dumb.

But then you hear his soft laugh as he grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks with his thumb and index finger, “You're so cute.” A nervous laugh escapes your lips, and before you can speak, his lips are over yours.

Truth be told, he does take you very seriously, but his heart flutters each time you show that smart side of yours. Fyodor feels proud of having you by his side.

As he pulls away, he pecks your cheek again, “You surprise me every time, dear.” He walks back to his seat, still smiling softly at you.

“I'd like to keep talking to you but at the same time, I need to work… So why don't you help me choose who deserves to be my first victim to be saved?”

© 2024 pinklacydovey

[dinarosie]

What dates do you personally go by when it comes to the question of “how many years was Snape a Death Eater”?

There are no exact dates in the books — just scattered bits of information that let us make rough assumptions about the timeline, but nothing concrete. What’s your take on it?

Considering that it definitely wasn’t during school (1977), because back then joining the Death Eaters wasn’t something people tried to hide, and no one at Hogwarts knew he had become one.

So we’re looking at a timeframe between June 1978 and, presumably, December 1980 or January 1981. That’s a pretty wide range.

He could have been a Death Eater for almost three years, or just a year and a half.

What are your thoughts on that?

Sorry it took me so long to reply — I recently started my Master’s, and things have been a bit hectic. That’s why I haven’t been updating the blog as regularly as I’d like. Thanks for your patience!

My take is that Snape was a Death Eater for at most half a year, maybe up to a year.

I don’t think teenage Snape had the confidence or boldness to immediately present himself to Voldemort right after graduating. He was drawn to dark magic but actually approaching Voldemort and being accepted into that world? That probably took time.

Also, after Voldemort’s fall, Snape’s name wasn’t connected to any major missions or inner circle activities. He wasn’t among the Death Eaters who were arrested or publicly named. That really doesn’t sound like someone who spent much time actively serving Voldemort.

Even Sirius Black who was obsessed with Snape and always looking for something to use against him — didn’t seem to know he’d joined Voldemort. If it had been common knowledge or a long-standing involvement, I think Sirius would’ve absolutely used that against him.

And finally, when young Snape came to Dumbledore on the hill, Dumbledore chose to trust him. That says a lot. He likely hadn’t seen Snape involved in any serious missions against the Order, and didn’t consider his loyalty to Voldemort deep or long-term. He believed Snape was truly capable of change

[acourtofthought]

Just to address a few things first -

I love Feysand together and I don't hold their (Rhys's) past mistakes against them.

The way Tamlin spoke to Feyre at the High Lords meeting was petty and childish.

But for those who claim Lucien's actions with Hybern are unforgiveable and therefore will forever make it impossible for Elain to forgive him in order to accept their bond, I think we should compare two scenarios:

Rhys admits that he forced Feyre into their bargain as a way to defy Amarantha, a way to get back at Tamlin, and yes, a way to keep Feyre alive. Feyre acknowledges that she was a pawn in his schemes yet still fell in love with him.

Versus:

Lucien had no idea the sisters would be brought into things, that was all Ianthe.

He tells both Feyre and Elain that what happened was a mistake, that the sisters being brought in and how things went down was not their plan. One of Lucien's main goals was to try and save Feyre.

Rhys, in comparison, admits that it was his plan to use Feyre as a pawn to serve his purpose. There were aspects that benefitted her but most of it was for himself and his people.

Tamlin and Lucien believed Feyre was being brain washed and tortured, something she let Lucien continue believing when he found her in the woods, when she felt it was more important to protect the secret of who Rhys was under his mask. So they worked with Hybern in exactly the same way Rhys worked with Amarantha, with the end goal of protecting Feyre and helping their people:

The differences in these scenarios are:

Lucien and Tamlin never used Feyre or her sisters as a pawn versus Rhys who actively used Feyre as one. For good reasons yes but it doesn't change the facts.

There was no "Ianthe" in Rhys's situation. Rhys, as High Lord, made the decisions on his own and did not risk betrayal by sharing his schemes with others. He clearly made the smarter play compared to Tamlin who trusted Ianthe but.....

Lucien never liked Ianthe. Never really trusted her, never wanted her around. Just as Cassian, Az, etc. followed their HLs orders to hide Feyre's pregnancy, just as Amren and Mor chose to keep the mating bond a secret from Feyre, just as the IC all hid the information about Nesta's made weapons from her, those under a HL are subject to following the orders of said HL. It didn't matter if Lucien agreed with Tamlin about Hybern, about Ianthe, he had no power to challenge him. In the end, the decision to do what they did was not his call.

I think everyone in this fandom knows that the events of Hybern would truly not stand in the way of an Elucien endgame.

When Rhys used Feyre as a pawn on multiple occasions.

When Cassian told Nesta that everyone hated her and initially hid the knowledge of the swords from her.

When Bryce initially thought Hunt betrayed her in CC1.

When Rowan punched Aelin in the face and told her the world would have been better had she died as a child.

When Feyre fell in love with Tamlin even after he kidnapped her.

When Ruhn fell in love with Lidia despite the sins she committed for the Asteri.

I think everyone knows Elain's current behavior towards Lucien is not preventing an Elucien endgame.

Not when Nesta told Cassian she wanted nothing to do with him and slept with other males.

Not when Feyre was initially afraid of Rhys, said the night she kissed Tamlin was the happiest of her life, admits she wanted Rhys even UTM yet still accepted Tamlin's proposal.

Not when Yrene thought Chaol was to blame (by association) for the death of her family.

Not when you consider what Elide believed about Lorcans loyalty to Maeve.

Not when Aedion found out about Lysandra and Aelin's plot to deceive him in marriage and children.

Given the history of SJMs writing, there is nothing preventing an Elucien endgame aside from Elain's reticence over the bond and when an author like Diana Gabaldon turned an unwanted arranged marriage (for Claire) into a love story that has one of SJMs favorite male love interests, I think Elucien is going to be just fine.

[multifandomfix]

Being A Royalist And Dating Jack Sparrow Would Include

As a staunch royalist, you've always had a deep fascination with the monarchy and its history. You've kept your admiration for the crown a secret, especially from Jack. Him being a pirate and all, you know it likely wouldn’t be received well.

As your relationship with Jack grows it becomes harder to hide your ideals from him. Even though you’ve grown to see his way of life, that didn’t change your own views completely.

Eventually, you have to tell him that you’re a royalist. He visibly recoiled at first, but he still likes you for the person you’ve been when you’re with him.

Jack loves to challenge your beliefs, and you find yourself defending the crown's honor with fervor.

You sometimes try to introduce a touch of regal fashion into Jack's pirate wardrobe. He might resist at first, but he can't deny that it does make him look rather distinguished.

Occasionally, you convince Jack to accompany you to royal events or palaces. His attitude clashes with the decorum of these places, but you both manage to have a good time.

Much to your surprise, Jack occasionally shows a begrudging respect for certain royal figures, admitting that even pirates benefit from a bit of order and structure in the world.

You join Jack on his seafaring adventures, and your knowledge of royal history often comes in handy when deciphering cryptic clues or understanding the significance of ancient artifacts.

You're careful not to reveal your relationship to any fellow royalists, as they might not approve of your association with a pirate. It's a secret love affair that adds excitement to your life.

Despite your differences, your love for each other is undeniable. You both learn to accept each other's quirks and viewpoints, making your relationship a true adventure on the high seas.

For @skullr0se

Jack Sparrow: @iticaboopsyou, @dancingwith-sunflowers, @whither-the-wind-goes, @bluenystic, @puppy-coded, @fog-on-the-moon, @music-bird, @daretoscream7, @biximagyins, @danimorgan1708, @hotshot624, @witchthewriter, @thekirbishow

[epicfroggz]

"keeping company with the original sin, and a hatred that would not be confined" can you please share your interpretation of this sentence? I've been thinking alot of what the original sin and unconfined hatred mean but i couldn't find any explanation in the lore.

Yes, thank you for the ask! I have been trying to parse the meaning of this too. Firstly, what the “original sin” refers to, and secondly, what this “hatred that would not be confined” is about. Let’s break it down together!

(under the cut!)

“A malevolent snake writhed within Messmer, and so his very mother plucked out his eye and put in its place a seal of grace. Yet, having done so, her fear compelled her to secret away her child within the realm of shadow. Hidden away—keeping company with the original sin, and a hatred that would not be confined.” (Remembrance of the Impaler)

There is one other mention of “the original sin” that helps define it:

“Miquella set off for the tower enshrouded by shadow, abandoning everything—his golden flesh, his blinding strength, even his fate. All in an effort to bury the original sin. To embrace the whole of it, and be reborn as a new god.” (Miquella’s Great Rune)

With just the first item description, one may be inclined to believe the original sin is the Hornsent’s rituals against the shamans and Messmer’s hatred is simply hatred against the Hornsent for this act. But, this is only part of the truth. The other part is revealed by the second description, the very thing that Miquella is trying to bury: love. How it was not out of compassion or a desire to make the world a better place that Marika ascended to godhood, it was out of love and desire for revenge first and foremost.

The original sin is not what the Hornsent did—the original sin is Marika’s response to it.

This recontextualizes the description of Messmer’s remembrance a bit. He is “keeping company with the original sin” because this truth is only found within the veiled Land of Shadow, as Miquella had to go there to learn of it. Messmer is the keeper of this truth, for he defends Marika’s village and has hoarded the knowledge of it in his Keep. He knows firsthand that Marika is flawed. While this does not alter his love for her as his mother, it may have affected his faith in her as his god.

Consider the way this item description is written:

Prior to being “hidden away” in the LoS, Messmer had no reason to doubt his mother and her actions, for Mother must know best. But with time and separation, this perception wavers—without her company, all he has left is the pain within and around him. He realizes that it was not because it was best for him or because of some greater plan that she abandoned him here: it was solely out of fear. That is when the seeds of hatred are sown, grow, and ultimately, would not be confined (the transformation into the base serpent representing the release of this hatred). Hatred for Marika, who he curses upon defeat.

The word choice of “secreting” and “hiding” Messmer away, and how Marika does this after and despite mutilating him to implant the seal of grace, paints a rather negative impression of her perception of her son. As though his mere existence was something incredibly shameful that she had to hide from everyone. She used to make physicks for him, but stopped. Why? Because eventually her goals as a god overtook her love as a mother, and the Order ordained her to be afraid of snakes and flame. Likewise, it was to the benefit of her reputation to hide the truth of the original sin; sealing the LoS was like killing two birds with one stone.

It could be read as though Marika’s fear is fear that her son won’t be accepted even with the seal, and that she hid him away to protect him—this is a fair interpretation of her actions, but it certainly isn’t what Messmer thinks. Her attempt to implant grace into him wouldn’t have inevitably failed if he believed in her without question. Whether or not she did it to protect him, it was her act of abandoning of him that led him to break the seal, and we Tarnished were just the catalyst.

If you look at it that way, every time Marika tried to help Messmer, she ended up ruining him further.

-Froggo

P.S. This isn’t related but, the seal really is the only source of grace he has, for he loses his holy resistance in phase 2. And that fact just kinda destroys me on the inside.